#this is no soft all hurt

[lazylittledragon]

did somebody say dadkarios

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #galemance #dadkarios #pregnancy cw #just a man and his slightly terrifying wife and goblin offspring #the sign won’t stop her because she can read but she’s ignoring it #this was inevitable we all knew it was coming #i almost regret spending so much time on these but they’re so pretty #i love decorating the wizard tower #side note have you ever had a baby pull your hair it fucking HURTS #they’re out for blood from day one #spoilers for future stuff but poor cyra goes through fucking HELL with that baby and it looks nothing like her #also i'm fully a gale abs denialist. where's his tummy you cowards make him Soft

[luxaofhesperides]

Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?” 

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well. 

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #it was such a struggle to keep this one short but i WILL do it. it will stay below 3k words. i promised myself this #wasnt too sure what the surprise husbands trope was so i winged it lol. i hope you enjoy reading this anyways!! #its all about choosing love and choosing each other and taking care of each other in a bad situation #turning it into something good and soft and kind bc neither of u want to hurt each other and its nice to have someone always by ur side #its abt choosing each other every day!! #these two are out here speed running love while doing it backwards. icons. #thanks for the prompt!!

[kingkatsuki]

More fic ideas that I have absolutely no intention of writing.

Knight Bakugou who’s positioned to guard you. The King wants the best to protect his Princess, and Bakugou is the best. Besides, it’s not like the man had a choice, he doesn’t want to lose his job— or his life.

You hate to admit that Bakugou is good at his job, much better than the men that had tried to guard you before. Making it difficult for you to sneak out into the gardens in the evening to watch the stars, or to sneak into town for the weekend festivities.

You should hate him for ruining the routine you’d managed to work yourself into over the years, for stealing away the freedom that you’d rewarded yourself when no one else would offer you the same luxury. But somehow you can’t force yourself to dislike him, there’s something behind his cold and brash personality that has you inquisitive to find out more. Enjoying trying your best to rile him up or push his buttons— spilling your evening tea over his pristine boots, or dropping your towel in front of him when you prepare for your evening bath.

Knight Bakugou knows exactly what you’re trying to do, and he’s determined he won’t fall for your tricks— which is why he’s just as surprised as you are when he finds himself outside with you past curfew in the castle grounds watching the stars. But instead of staring up at the gorgeous night sky, he finds himself turning his head to the side to see how the moonlight glows against your skin. It’s just another thing that has now woven its way into your daily routine together, and as he walks you back to your quarters each night you like to fool yourself that it’s because he wants to, not because his life depends on it.

It isn’t long before the King begins to bring in suitors from neighbouring towns to vie for your hand in marriage. None of which are out of love, but a necessity to strengthen alliances between armies. Which is why it doesn’t matter if you even like any of them, because the choice won’t be yours. The men are scheduled to fight for your hand, and as you sit and wait for them to joust you notice Bakugou clad in full metal armour across the field.

The King positioned him as his strongest guard— because he is.

A man worthy enough to beat his strongest soldier is a man worthy enough to take his daughters hand in marriage. And yet as you watch every man come head to head with Bakugou he beats every single one.

And you think Bakugou has just beat these men because he wants to show how strong and powerful he is, but secretly it’s because he’s so in love with you.

You can’t tell whether your father is proud or annoyed at the fact, especially when Bakugou knocks the son, young Midoriya, off his horse. The man that you believed the King wanted to you marry, the most suitable alliance available.

It’s a few weeks later when Bakugou is sent away on a mission by the King. The head of an army sent out to pillage a neighbouring village who threaten to compromise the power of you’ve forged.

The morning he’s scheduled to leave is the first time he lets you kiss him, he lets you get that close. As though he’s wondering whether he’ll even return home himself. Standing in his quarters in the lower part of the castle, clad in your pyjamas and your feet freezing against the cold stone as he cradles you in his arms. Pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss as he finally allows himself to have you, even if just for a few selfish moments. Bakugou reckons it’s worth the risk of dying, to feel your lips on his again. A fellow guard, Kirishima catches you both as he takes Bakugou away from you— watching them ride off on horseback as you still feel the warmth of him surrounding you.

You stay awake each night wondering whether he’s even still alive too— whether you’ll ever see him again. The new guards are just as useless as before and you find yourself longing for his safe return.

It’s two months before your father has another man lined up as a potential suitor. Wondering who might fight for your honour now that Bakugou is gone, but you’re shocked when the King says there’s no need for such friviolity. That the wedding is scheduled, and it’s the right reason to strengthen the Kingdom. It’s not for love, it could never be when your heart belongs to Bakugou.

And even if you told your father about your feelings for his guard, it would be issuing Bakugou his own death sentence if he even managed to make it home at all.

But fate really can be a cruel, fickle thing— and as fate would have it Bakugou returns home the day you’re standing at the altar wearing a pretty wedding dress like you’d dreamed about, while you’re waiting to be betrothed to another man.

#but can you imagine the LONGING #like I’d love this from Bakugous POV??? #like imagine his thoughts when you drop your towel?!?! I’ll scream #and he wants to fight his feelings so bad #but when it comes to jousting he can’t help but jab the fuckers extra hard. knocking them off their horses and the wind out of them #and he starts thinking about how it would feel waking up beside you or plunging his cock into you #finds himself watching you in the wee hours when you’re fast asleep because it’s the only time he can look at you without you noticing #and it kills him to have to push you away when you try to kiss him and the hurt that flashes in your eyes #but he doesn’t want to die AND he doesn’t want to get you in trouble #because a life with you even if he can’t have you is better than not having you at all??? #knight bakugou #soft bakugou

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

somewhat satisfied with this... pretty butterfly man...

#didnt want to diverge too drastically from his canon palette #but butterflies never retain their caterpillar colors so. blue-green & pink howdy supremacy #and a lot of butteflies have black bodies/legs and also dark gradients on arms/hands Absolutely Fucks #so he gets fancy black gradients! and cool wings! #his wings were a Bitch to do ngl #also fluff... butterfly fluff... #in my mind the back of his hindwings have big ol eyespots on em & smaller ones on the forewings #which you can kind of see #scribble salad #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #howdy pillar #yassified howdy <3 #i didnt have to make him pink. but i did. for all of our sakes. #pink/teal is The color combo no i dont take criticism. im right. #its like the bad bitch version of red/blue #WAIT IMPORTANT QUESTION. googling if butterfly fluff is soft #probably... ive always been too scared of hurting them to pet the ones ive caught/held #theyre not as sturdy as moths or bees. both of which are very soft and i wish they were dog-sized #so i could have a honeybee pet. #GETTING OFF TOPIC ONCE AGAIN #howdy Is very sturdy tho! so it'd be totally safe to- #actually yknow what im gonna stop right there

[1v31182m5]

Lost Avatar AU original post

#Lost avatar au #I putted sYmbOliSm #aang's font and it's color changing based on his emotions #the knife and the apple #in the first shot he is holding them at the same height #on the second he's more excited and confident #his focus gets on to be the knife #then he gets confused again and gets them on the same height #the next shot is focused on the apple #the cutted one. #when he tries to get away from his emotions he holds the apple on the back and point the knife's sharp side to the camera #on the last shot with him being the weakest of all the shots we only see the cutted apple #so apple is to show his soft and hurt side while knife is to be more rock about it #atla #avatar #aah this took so long hope it reaches the right audience #avatar aang #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender fanart #atla au #kataang #katara #aang #katara x aang #atla aang x katara #atla fanart #avatar fanart

[legobenkenobi]

destroyed by Commander Cody and how he had a mind control chip in his brain and yet he stayed soft. he lost every single thing that ever mattered to him in one fell swoop and he didn’t stop caring about his brothers or the citizens he’s supposed to protect.

he thinks he did Order 66 on purpose and he still chooses every single day to be a good person and to be better than that because that’s who he is. he’s good to the bone and he always has been and always will be. no matter what. it’s his core trait. and nothing can take that away no matter how hard someone tries. i’m in pain

#commander cody #cody tag #sw #tcw #star wars #LOSING IT AGAIN #FUCKKKSJDHJSGDJAHDJAJSJJS #CODYYYYYY🙁🙁🙁🙁😭😭😭😭💥💥💥💥 #he’s so sweet and kind and soft #HE IS SO HURT AND YET ALL HE IS FULL OF IS LOVE

[red-dead-sakharine]

Tickles - Part 3

Raphael x Tav, RaphaelPOV, soft!raphael, gn!tav, fluff, hurt/comfort, body worship Haarlep and Korrilla have some screen time mood music

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 & 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring in the direction Tav had left in. Eventually he heard familiar steps next to him. Bare feet, with an audible sensual bounce to their pace.

"Don't." he warned.

"My, my, the sheets are so clean, did you even do anything with them?" he heard Haarlep's voice drone close to his right ear. He pushed the incubus away without even looking at them. Haarlep snickered. "Oh, it did not go the way you wanted, did it? Did Tav not let you have your way?" they teased. Raphael wrinkled his nose in annoyance - the incubus had no idea what they were talking about. Of course they'd think only of one thing that could happen in a bed. Admittedly, his mind would've went similar places before today. But what Tav had done was.... different. He could still remember their touch. Their gentle strokes. He ran a hand over his ribs, trying to capture the feeling. But it wasn't the same. He longed for more. He felt abandoned without their touch. Alone in hell. He never knew he needed this kind of... affection, but now he craved it like nothing else.

A hand snaked over his thighs, towards his still exposed crotch. He caught it and lifted it. "No." he told Haarlep, finally looking at the incubus next to him. His glare was murderous. He was not in the mood - ironically perhaps. He could have this anytime. That's what Haarlep was for. But he couldn't get what Tav had given him. He worried that he scared the mortal off for good. The thought of never experiencing their touch again filled him with dread.

Haarlep looked both surprised and confused, removing their hand and sitting back up from their prowling position. "What did happen in here? You're acting very strange."

Raphael scoffed and got up, pulling his pants back on as he did.

He wandered down to the pool, eyes set on a book near its edge. He picked it up and flipped the pages.

He knew this book, of course. Sometimes, when he got bored, he would flip to a random page and tell Haarlep to do whatever it said to mix things up. They had never bothered with the later chapters though. The 'post-encounter care' ones. He browsed through them, but didn't really find what he was looking for. It was all written in a way that strongly assumed there had been lots of action beforehand. Nothing really sounded like what his little mouse had done to him. He dropped the book with a loud thomp on a nearby table.

Raphael could feel Haarlep's curious eyes on him, before their voice intruded on his thoughts again, "Were you not interesting enough for your little mouse?" they taunted, "Did you just lie there and let them do all the work?" They laughed. Raphael shot them a murderous glare and the laughter seized, though a taunting smile remained. He frowned. He did just lie there, didn't he. But... that's what Tav wanted, right? They seemed happy to do what they did. Right? Should he have done something? Should he have... participated in some form? He didn't know. He didn't know what he could've possibly done with his face buried in the bed sheets and his mouse on top of him, caressing him. Doing all these wonderful things to him. What could he have possibly done in that moment? But Haarlep was right - Tav had done all the work. Was that right? Was that wrong? He didn't know.

He didn't know!

He roared in frustration and threw the nearest chair into the pool.

Haarlep took note and made themself scarce before they'd end up as an outlet for Raphael's violent frustration. Not the time to tease the master, evidently.

He kept thrashing in frustration. A wardrobe was incinerated, a table smashed in two. Another chair flew off the balcony. He tore through the bed; shreds of velvet flying through the room. A cushion was set on fire - burning feathers blew everywhere. He was frustrated with himself, angry at Tav for making him feel these feelings, angry at Haarlep for never preparing him for this kind of affection, angry at Hope, angry at Korrilla, angry at everyone and everything. Angry at the world. Angry at his father for whom he felt nothing but disdain. Angry at the hells. Angry at the heavens. Angry at this whole damn existence for making him the way he was.

Half a devil, neither here nor there. Better than his peers but not enough. Never enough. He had clawed himself far up the ladder, and yet - and yet - he could not escape his birth. His other half that had these disgusting mortal feelings and needs. That craved affection. Craved that softness Tav had shown him. He set the entire bed on fire, threw his bedside table into the flames for good measure. His angry screams echoed through the House of Hope, and everyone in earshot scurried away as best they could; knowing to stay out of his way for their own good.

Eventually he dropped to the floor amidst the destruction. Angry, frustrated, in pain, alone. Always alone. His mortal side wanted to cry. His devil one didn't allow it. So he screamed. And then he just sat there, doing nothing. Nothing.

The fires had burned out by the time Korrilla poked her head cautiously into the room. He still sat on the ground near the pool, surrounded by ashes. Like his heart. "Why were they even here?" he asked, not deigning the dwarf with a look. "They were looking for the little tiefling's contract." He narrowed his eyes, "Mol?" "Yes, that one." "Did they take it?" "No." He looked up at Korrilla, "No?" "No." she shrugged, "But they left something." He raised a brow at her. "The Archivist said they gave him this to give to you." she held up a small package, the unmistakable size and shape of a book, then dared to step closer to hand it to him.

He took the book and rotated it in his hands. It was wrapped in cheap brown paper. 'For protection, probably' he thought. His claws easily tore through the wrapping and he read the title on the cover, "A deep dive into the history of Cormyran poetry". His breath hitched and he gripped the book tighter. Why would they give him this? Not that he didn't understand the concept of a gift, no, he had just never received one. He sometimes called favors gifts when he handed them out, but that was not the same. And he had received offerings from clients and petitioners to sway him in their favor; but never a true gift. Given without purpose or hidden agenda. Just because.

"Should I... tell the Archivist to put it in the library?" Korrilla offered, trying to be helpful. "No." he pressed the book against his chest with one hand, while pushing himself to his feet with the other. Finally he had a look around, really seeing the destruction he had wrought. "Get the debtors to clean this place up." he ordered her and looked for his doublet. It had perished in the flames. No matter. He snapped his fingers an was well dressed once again. It was nice to have powers.

He headed for the exit. Visiting a few of his other clients would do him good; straighten his head. So that's what he did.

He kept the book on him the entire time.

Part 4

A day passed, and he felt like himself again. Suave and cunning and in control. He took a break, sitting outside one of Baldur's Gate's upper city taverns, drinking wine. Trying to go about his normal routine. He had just seen off a client here, who had signed a particularly satisfying contract, and he relished in his victory. Tav's book lay on the table in front of him. He hadn't even looked inside once, just carried it with him all day. He wasn't sure why.

Since he was taking a break anyway, he might as well have a casual read. Maybe the author was half decent. As he opened the first page, his eyes dropped to a hand-written note on the lower half:

From a tadpoled misadventurer, to an honest devil.

He stared at the words as if they were written in a language he did not understand. And maybe he didn't. Eventually he managed to tear himself away from the incomprehensible words and thumbed through the book. His brow furrowed in displeasure when he noticed a dog-ear on a page. Sacrilegious mistreatment of a book! He opened the page to get rid of the unsightly mark - and stopped. His eyes fell on the title on the earmarked page: "The cat and the mouse - dissection of an obscure lullaby" He frowned again and started reading the chapter, disagreeing with a lot of the interpretations the author had given. He scoffed, when he reached the end, and closed the book - leaving the earmark in place.

He stood up, finished the last gulp of his wine, and decided he would not so easily be defeated. He was Raphael, after all. Soon-to-be ruler of the nine hells! Whatever went wrong in the boudoir the other night, he would fix it. Tonight.

And so he went to prepare in his little retreat in the mortal world - the Devil's Den. He made sure his clothes were in order, and applied a fresh layer of perfume, combed his hair. When he was satisfied, he tucked the book away in a drawer of his desk - though before he left, he had one last look inside; read those befuddling words of a dedication again. Then he closed the book and the drawer and waited.

When night came and it was late enough for everyone to be asleep, Raphael sprung to action and teleported himself to the Elfsong Tavern. Right into the room, the tadpoled adventurers had rented. He heard a noise behind him and turned to see the dog, groggily looking at him, then alarmed. Before it could bark, Raphael used his magic to put it back to sleep. "Shhh," he whispered, and the dog went back to snoring soundly. Good.

He took a quick glance around the room to find his target. Everyone was asleep, well, almost everyone. The vampling looked up from his book, stared at Raphael for an appraising moment, smirked knowingly, pointed a finger towards one of the beds, then went back to reading.

Raphael looked where the spawn had pointed, and saw them. His little mouse, sound asleep. He prowled over to their bed and looked at them. Tav looked so peaceful and without worries. So calm. So soft. He noticed a book on the bedside table and read the title, "The Hells Unleashed". He knew the book - some semi-interesting read about the nine layers of Baator. Why would his mouse be reading this? He put the thought aside and focused back on his task. He had experienced what they had done to him the other night, it couldn't be that hard to copy those actions. Right? He looked them up and down, searching for a point of entry. Eventually he resorted to gently pulling their blanket off their torso and sliding a hand under their shirt. It couldn't possibly be that hard to emulate what his little mouse had done! He did his best, gently stroking their side, snaking his way upward.

Then everything happened at once. Tav's eyes popped open. There was a scream. They jumped back, hit their head on the bedpost. The dog woke up and started barking. Someone cast daylight. Everyone groaned, momentarily blinded. He froze. Tav moaned in pain. Something bit his leg. He growled and jumped up, kicking the owlbear cub aside. Astarion was laughing. The dog charged at him. Wyll plucked it off the ground mid-run, before it could jump on the fiend. Karlach rounded the corner, axe above her head and screaming bloody murder. He snapped and returned himself to the House of Hope.

This was the worst moment in all of history.

Raphael materialized in the entryway and just stood there, trying to make sense of what just happened. How in the hells did everything go sideways this badly? He blinked, confused, embarrassed, angry, frustrated, crestfallen. He was Raphael, future ruler of Baator! He had tied the threads of fate of countless mortals. Pulled the strings of many a plot, orchestrated such masterworks of mortal destinies... How could he fumble this badly in regards to his little mouse? What was wrong with him? Someone must have cursed him! Cursed him with some bad luck charm, or... or...

He remained there on the spot, mind reeling. Spinning his mental wheels. Not understanding. Not grasping what was going on, what made him so inept all of a sudden. Lost in thought, he did not know how much time passed as he stood there, thinking. Suddenly the portal to the entryway lit up. It finally pulled him out of his stupor. A moment later his little mouse appeared. Alone, and wearing their casual camp clothes.

He looked at them. They looked at him, giving him a smile. His mind was still swamped from what had happened, so it took him forever to say something. His mouse was faster.

"So that happened." they said, sounding casual, a hint of amusement in their voice. "You gave everyone quite the fright. Well, everyone except Astarion. It took him about five minutes to stop laughing." He kept staring at his mouse. How could he possibly start to explain that disaster? "What were you trying to do?" they sounded a little insecure, but apparently trusted him enough to come here alone and unarmed. 'Foolish', he thought. They were safe with him, of course, but not on the streets!

"I- " he tried to find the words, find his voice. He straightened up a little, got a grip, tried again, "I wanted to reciprocate, my dear. Was that not obvious?"

Tav laughed, "No. Not... not entirely." He frowned. They smiled. "You know, waking up to someone fondling you in your sleep is just a little bit creepy. You scared the living daylights out of me." Tav explained.

He frowned more, "That... wasn't my intention." he offered. It wasn't much. It was as if his mouse had an aura that prevented his brain from working, ever since they did those wonderful soft things to him. "I didn't mean to scare you. Not tonight, and... not the other night. I wanted you to stay. ...I didn't know how to convey it." he admitted.

Tav's demeanor changed a little, and they looked more at ease. "I was worried I had angered you." they explained. He shook his head, not comprehending, "But why?" They shrugged, a little lost, "You didn't say anything when I apologized for using Haarlep's body. And you were glaring and frowning at me. I took that as you not accepting the apology and being cross with me. And being on a devil's bad side is not where I wanted to be, so I figured it'd be better to leave, before you incinerate me." they admitted.

He shook his head and stepped towards them, "No, no, no, I wasn't cross with you! Well,... no. I wasn't. I was..." he paused. Should he admit it? He looked away, thinking. It took him a moment but he decided making himself vulnerable might be the only way to fix things. "I was frustrated with myself." He looked at Tav. Searched for judgement in their eyes, but there was none. They looked at him fondly, "Why?" "Because-" he took a deep breath. It wasn't easy to say this out loud. His inner monologue had been shut away tightly for a long time, but he felt it was necessary to share his thoughts with this one mortal, who has shown him so much affection. So much trust. He trusted them, too. "Because I enjoyed what you did to me. And I-- I didn't know what to do with it. And I," he paused, searching for words, "I hate that I enjoyed it so much. It is... soft. It's a weakness. This sort of thing has no place here in the hells." He stared at them, hoping they would understand. He could practically see the gears in their head turning, so he elaborated. "But I crave it nonetheless. I want ...more. I didn't want that moment to end. That's why I grabbed you when you tried to leave. I didn't mean to be harsh. I don't know how to..." his words failed him, so he just gestured at Tav, waving his arm up and down their form in a desperate hope they'd understand and fill in the blanks.

Tav needed a moment, but eventually they smiled at him and stepped closer. "Oh c'mon, you do know how to. You're the one who kept flirting with me, every time we met." He frowned, "That's different." "How so?" "It's talk. What you did was different. Nobody has ever..." he trailed off. It sounded ridiculous to admit it. He had lived for eons and never met anyone who'd treated him like this. Tav's expression changed to something almost sad, "Really?" He looked away and didn't answer. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and he looked back at Tav. So close now. "First time for everything," they whispered in his ear, then kissed him on the cheek. He felt light as a feather all of a sudden, and wrapped his arms around his little mouse, pressing his face against the side of their head. Inhaling the smell of their hair. Why was this so wonderful?

"Do you want me to do it again?" a whisper in his ear. He took a breath; struggling internally if he should really surrender to this craving. He caved and nodded stiffly, his slight stubble scratching lightly against Tav's ear. His mouse chuckled warmly and pulled away from his embrace, only to take his hand, "Come!" they pulled him out of the entryway and towards the boudoir, grinning with pure delight. His heart got a little lighter with every step. They had seen him. Heard his thoughts and doubts, and didn't judge. Maybe having just one person to trust completely in this world, wasn't such a bad thing.

They came to a sudden stop. "What happened here?" Tav's voice was thick with concern. Ah. He looked around the boudoir. The ashes and fire damages had been cleaned up, but there was still a good chunk of furniture missing. The new bed was there - it was the most important piece, after all - and Haarlep stood over a collection of half-burnt books, looking them through and throwing whatever they deemed disposable over the balustrade of the nearby balcony. A chair was still floating in the pool.

He cleared his throat and used his best casual voice, "Like I said, I was frustrated." He could feel Tav look at him from the side. Haarlep looked up, their face lit up as they saw the mortal, "Ooohh, has the little mouse come for another round? Whatever did you do to him last time? I just need to know." "You never will," Raphael butt in, before Tav could say anything, "Now, out." Haarlep acquiesced and slithered out of the boudoir, winking at Tav in passing. The mortal looked a bit confused but eventually recovered and continued towards the bed, dragging Raphael along. "As long as this 'frustration' is never directed at me, we're good." they said, looking at him sternly. He returned the look, "Never." he assured them. They smiled, pulling him closer.

[mood music]

"Right then. Tell me," they leaned into him again and lowered their voice to a whisper, "where did you enjoy it most?" They pulled away a bit to look at him. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again and looked away, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

They ducked their head into his field of view, "Are you... embarrassed?" There was mischief in their voice. He glared at them. "The future ruler of the nine hells, embarrassed to say what he enjoys most." They chuckled, then leaned in again to whisper, "I'll find out eventually, so you might as well just tell me. It'll never leave this room." They looked at him again. His eyes flicked down, then back up to look at his mouse. He couldn't quite bring himself to say it; it was too embarrassing how much he melted under this mortal's touch. Tav searched his face for a while, until eventually a smirk crept on their features, "Ah!" they exclaimed, "I get it. The most embarrassing of places." and their hands glided down his sides, lifting up the lower part of his doublet, finding the brim of his pants. They looked at him as if to ask for permission. He just stared back, feeling his ears get hot. They smirked and slid their hands into the back of his pants. Warm fingers trailing over his butt, holding it lovingly.

He knew he was blushing violently, he could feel it. But he loved the touch of those soft hands on his rear. If he could shoot beams of adoration out of his eyes, he would do so right now. Tav's smile brightened. Maybe he was shooting adoration form his eyes. Maybe.

The hands wandered a bit, stroking his southern cheeks. Eventually they retreated back out of his pants, moving up to his doublet and starting to unbutton. This time, he had no patience and with a snap of his fingers his upper body was bare. The mouse chuckled. He left the pants on, but looked at Tav, and threw an inviting glance down. They smirked with delight and commanded, "Lay down." He complied. They crawled on top, lips meeting his. A moment of surprise, then he melted into it. He opened his mouth, greedily poking his tongue at the mouses lips to seek entry. They pulled back, kissed his forehead, "Slowly." they demanded. He exhaled in disappointment, but he complied. Another kiss, slow this time. Just kisses. Eventually a tongue at his lips, asking gently for entry. He acquiesced. Tav's tongue met his. He loved their taste. They explored his mouth, invited him to do the same. He did. Slowly. Slow was good. More time to savor everything. He began to understand. They gently sucked on it, and he moaned. He didn't care this time. Let the mouse hear how much he enjoyed what they did! He could feel them smile against his lips.

Eventually they broke the kiss, looked at him with such love and delight in their eyes, he wanted to drown in them. He grabbed their head - cautiously! He needed to be more careful. Not rough. Not like with Haarlep. Soft and gentle. Like handling a delicate flower. He ran his fingers through their hair, and they closed their eyes, clearly enjoying it. He felt proud. He made them feel good, this was his work! He let them go, and they moved on. Kissed his adam's apple. His breath hitched. A little lick followed. He clutched their shirt. A little suck. He clutched it tighter, gasping. He didn't know at this point, but it would leave a mark - something for him to admire in the mirror the next day. They moved on, kissing their way down his chest. Getting lost in the tuft of hair there. Running their face through it, dropping kisses along the way. He moaned. He didn't care to hold back. His hands rubbed Tav's sides clumsily. They didn't seem to mind his fumbling. Whenever they looked up at him, they smiled. He was elated.

They moved on downward. Kisses towards his bellybutton. Another lick. He shivered. Kisses down his happy trail. A finger pulling slightly on the hem of his pants, kissing the forbidden zone. He clutched the sheets. Hands ran up his arms, rubbing gentle circles over his muscles. A kiss on his biceps. He looked at his mouse - hoping his gaze conveyed what he felt. They looked up at him, smiling. Always smiling. Eyes shining. He knew no sight more wonderful.

They climbed back up, kissed his temple. Gently nudging his head sideways, "Turn around." He complied, his heart pounding with delighted anticipation. A tug on his pants, he lifted his body so they could come off. Kisses on his back - he fell back onto the bed. Kisses down his spine, hands on his flanks. He gripped the sheets again, knowing what would come. Looking forward to it. Hands on his butt, kisses just above, then trailing down each cheek. He moaned. The kisses morphed into licks. He shivered, burying his head in the bedding again. "What you do to me!" he mumbled into the cloth and heard a slight chuckle in response: "You have the most beautiful butt in Baator." He wanted to respond but another lick on his right butt cheek turned his brain off. Fingers gently ghosting over his thighs, outside, inside. His breath hitched. A kiss at the inside of his knee. Hands running down his lower leg, then up the other. A kiss on the other knee. Hands ghosting back up his thighs, over his hips. Another kiss, another lick on his butt. He whined into the bed. A gentle suck. He didn't know where up and down was anymore.

Hands and lips ghosting back up his body, kissing, licking their way towards his head. A kiss on each shoulder, a hand in his hair, a kiss on his neck, a nose gently nudging him to remove his face from the bedding before he suffocated. He complied. Another kiss on his temple. A kiss on his cheekbone. A kiss on his nose. He whined. It was bliss. He was being tormented with bliss! A head pressing into the sheets next to him to find his mouth. Gently making contact with his lips again. A body sinking down on top of his.

His hand found Tav's and he interlocked his fingers with theirs. The mouse's other hand still ran through his hair, soothingly stroking, caressing, combing through it. Their lips still together, kissing, gently touching. Eventually they rested their head next to his, lying on top of him, still a hand in his hair, the other still interlocked with his. He smiled at them, and they smiled back.

He could stay here forever.

'cause this was rapture.

👉 Part 5

#fanfiction #raphael x tav #tickles rds #bg3 #haarlep #soft!raphael #raphaelPOV #the gif would have fit better as cambion but the game did not like the change in body type at all #no comfort without hurt #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #rds #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3

[naffeclipse]

Okay okay, so there was an ask about photographer y/n being jealous of some siren that Eclipse met. What about other flavours of y/n?

How would Humpback!y/n react to some rival? As they are portrayed as the most chill one of the bunch. Would they be completely unbothered due to their strength and size? Would they get annoyed by the siren?

Would leopard seal!y/n straight up jump into a fight with the siren trying to woo their mate? Would they get scared of being left alone again and imidiatly assume the worst? I imagine that would be a hard situation for them due to the abandonment they experienced from their previous relationship.

Would Harpie!y/n get scared or sad? After all Harpie is the most incapable of ,,defending" their place due to them being a ,,prey"', so I imagine they would feel hopeless in "show off your strength category" Would they went off to find the prettiest pebble for Eclipse? Would they find another way to show the siren they are the boss?

At the end of the day I imagine Eclipse cuddling and comforting his mate as well as assuring them they are his birdie, sending the message to the siren in question as well. But I'm curious how y/ns would react and handle the situation

Sending love!

Ohhh, jealousy!

Humpback Y/N is stoic regarding their jealousy, and though they wouldn't easily give away how green they are, they would silently mull over what Eclipse wants. There's someone of his own kind—not a natural-born enemy. Why have them when he could have someone closer in form to him? Humpback Y/N would act aggressively if such a siren showed up and attempted to woo Eclipse right in front of them, but Y/N would also ponder if Eclipse wants this orca siren when they're apart. Eclipse would gather that something's eating away at Humpback Y/N when they're together and his birdie isn't focused. Once he nudged Humpback Y/N enough to explain, he would be shocked that Y/N hasn't fought this other siren yet if they're so concerned about losing him! Y/N would say they were giving the siren the courtesy of mercy in case Eclipse would be happier. Such a confession would melt Eclipse; he would hold Humpback Y/N's face and tell them he has fought so hard for them. He would keep fighting for eternity just to keep them—don't worry. He's theirs entirely.

Leopard Seal Y/N would be ferocious and fierce to any suitor attempting to steal Eclipse away. Y/N has terrible anguish from the past coming back to life and is tormented by a future where she and her baby are abandoned—again. She would be furious at how much she wants Eclipse to stay for Sedka and for her. An orca siren attempting to sing to Eclipse would result in Y/N lunging for the rival's throat without hesitation. Eclipse would intervene immediately to shoo the other siren away and pull Y/N back. He'd hold her as he demanded to know why in the ocean would she ever try to fight an orca siren who was not attacking her or Sedka? Y/N would be seething before snarling that if Eclipse wants to leave her and Sedka, he should never have stayed with them in the first place! Eclipse would shush her, soothing her until she stopped trying to claw her way back to a violent encounter and tell her how he only wanted her and how he wouldn't trade her and Sedka for the whole world. They are everything he wants and needs, and he would not leave his family.

Harpy Y/N would be in shambles if another orca siren showed interest in Eclipse. Y/N has no way of chasing off a would-be suitor and would be inconsolable at the thought Eclipse decided the orca siren would be a better co-parent than her. She would be frantic and in near panic, watching Eclipse closely for any signs that he was going to take the babies and leave her behind. Mentally, Y/N would prepare a list of reasons to keep her around for him and the baby's sake. Eclipse would notice that she's much more apprehensive than usual and then ask what is causing her such grief. She'd burst out with all the arguments she'd been compiling to let her stay with him and the babies (which Eclipse would agree vehemently with each claim, much to Y/N's building confusion). In tears, she'd be trembling in waiting for his response until Eclipse burst out in laughter. Y/N would stare in her bewilderment. He'd pull her close and kiss her cheek with such adoration at her silliness. He'd tell her softly and gently that she is the only mother of Sun and Moon, and he quite loves Y/N. He would even admit that he has a bit of obsession with her, and no one else, orca siren or otherwise, is going to lead him away from her.

#apex polarity #humpback!reader #soft underbelly #seal leopard!reader #cardinal instinct #harpy!reader #humpback y/n is just wondering if eclipse would get tired of their back and forth of being *enemies* and want someone who's #ya know #like him—which makes y/n ache (until eclipse makes it clear he lives for their exchanges) #leopard seal y/n is angry and hiding all the hurt/fear under that anger until eclipse basically says cut it out #i'm yours and i'm also sedka's dad so get used to me being around because i'm staying forever (which is everything she wanted to hear) #harpy y/n is just welp ;-; looks like i'm out of the picture — but she's a silly birdie so eclipse has to remind her that he only has #eyes for her

[beanghostprincess]

Apparently it's canon that the Vinsmoke brothers can't handle complex flavors and they're very picky eaters, so now I can't stop thinking about them being embarrassed of telling that to Sanji (that AU of them trying to get along after they start developing feelings) because they think he'll laugh at them. So they deal with it in secret and eat their brother's food without saying anything bc they're just that proud until Reiju is the one to tell him. And he scolds them for being a bunch of babies and starts cooking simpler types of dishes so they can eat what they want.

#honestly thinking this is just product of all the experiments and surgeries judge put them through #i'm too soft for these siblings ngl it hurts my soul just thinking about their lives #one piece #black leg sanji #vinsmoke brothers #vinsmoke siblings #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke reiju

[shima-draws]

My brain: Haha yeah I dunno if I’ll ever get into One Piece I mean it’s so long and such a huge dedication timewise—

Me, already 13 episodes in: Um. Well,

#JFNSNFJSJD HELP!!! #Shima speaks #Okay I HIGHLY doubt I’m going to slog through over 1000 episodes. BUT. #I will watch a chunk of it #Anyway. I LOVE Luffy. And I LOVE Zoro. #They really made Zoro out to be this supreme badass who’s super edgy and cool #He is all those things. BUT. He is also soooo dumb. And I love him #His reactions are just so over the top #And I love his quarrels with Naomi #*Nami. Spellcheck PLEASE. #And the fact that he trusts Luffy so MUCH already #And that he has absolute faith in Luffy so even when Luffy is hurt! He’s like ‘Oh yeah he’ll be fine dw’ #Makes me soft. #AND AGAIN. HE IS DUMB (affectionate) #Love me a goofy gang of pirates #Also REALLY loving Usopp too #Gathers them all up #My kids now. #One Piece

[ghouljams]

THAT

the last tag

the # its not what Ghost needs at least

does Ghost ever tell Die that ? how does Die feel about it ? in your opinion, what *does* our Ghostie boy need ?

This is just my opinion and character analysis but what Ghost needs is a safe harbor, someone that he doesn't have to be Ghost with. What Hell thinks he needs is another weapon in his arsenal, and someone to cover his back(because the man is imho probably not taking great care of himself).

Die is a great compliment to Ghost, she's vicious, tactically smart, and enjoys her work. She's not, however, a good compliment to Simon; a man who's already gone through hell and doesn't need or want the reminder. A man who I think holds a lot of complex feelings over the man that he's become as Ghost, and who is desperately clinging to the idea that he's doing evil for the greater good.

Ghost is avoiding you. Which is a real testament to his abilities if you’re being honest. You’re quite literally tied to his soul and somehow he’s still managing to keep you from catching him. You thought things were going well. You finally got a decent meal, Ghost got to let out some of the meaner thoughts he’s had about you --you’re not examining that-- and everything should be totally good. Peachy even. So why the hell is your lieutenant dismissing you and brushing you off at every turn. You can’t even creep into his thoughts, he’s shut up tighter than a vault. 

Soap catches Ghost's arm in the gym, "You seen Die, I had a question."

"Haven't seen 'er all morning." Ghost tells him evenly.

"Liar," You whisper in his ear. He swats at you, smacking your arm where you're hanging on his shoulders. You know he prefers not having you draw attention, but it's a small team. It's not like they don't know about the devil literally on his shoulder by now.

"Right," Soap says, like he doesn't quite believe him, "That why your shadow's all-" He motions with his hand. Ghost glances over his shoulder, then at the ground, checking what Soap means. You wave a hand, your shadow following the motion. Ghost groans.

"Alright off of me, go on." He shrugs his shoulders and you drop back into his shadow with a pout.

“What’s your question?” You pull yourself up from the darkness, sitting on the edge and trying to give Ghost the same cold shoulder.

“How do I get one o’ ya’?” Soap asks. That’s an easy one, even if it is outside of your jurisdiction.

“You don’t,” Ghost cuts in before you can say anything. You turn quickly to face him and he’s not even looking at you, “Die, dismissed.” You open your mouth to say something and he jerks his head to glare at you. Soap looks between the two of you as you finally pull yourself fully from his shadow. Fine. You’ll find something more fun to do than sit around waiting to get a crumb of conversation. You can ignore Ghost just as well as he ignores you.

Except that you can’t. The problem with being bound to someone’s soul is you sort of can’t turn off your connection to them. You’re never off of alert, never not keyed in to Ghost’s heart rate, to his adrenaline, to the sound of his voice. Always prepared to respond to any stimulus or order. It feels unnatural even being just outside the room.

You settle leaning against the wall by the door. Your anxiety and instincts clash, your fingers twisting the fabric of your skirt unsure what to do besides wait to be called on. You don’t know how humans function without each other.

“You don’t want a demon Johnny.” Ghost’s voice filters through everything, “You’re a good man, don’t be so quick to try and give that up.”

There’s a short lived silence as Soap responds.

“I’m not, and that- She’s a bloody testament to it. I can’t even touch her without-” He cuts himself off, unwilling to say it and give the feeling name. But you can feel it, his spike of anxiety, the anger and bitter sadness that rolls through your charge. Then disgust, and suddenly you know why he’s been avoiding you before Ghost can even say it. You represent everything he’s been made into, all the violence brought against him, being forced to laugh at death, to live with death, to claw his way out of a grave to something almost resembling a life. Yet here you are holding the last nail in the coffin of his humanity.

“What else am I supposed to think? You want to know how you get a demon?” Simon takes a shaky breath, you cover your ears even though you know it won’t do any good, “You become such a monster that Hell sends someone to keep an eye on you. So, don’t tell me you want one of those things.”

There’s a commotion from behind the doors, footsteps storming your way. You fix your face, quell your emotions, before the door opens and Ghost comes out. Soap’s still talking, hot on his tail, looking upset.

“-say that Ghost. You think Gaz and Price-” He spots you and stops. You know what he was going to ask, you think it’s nice that he’s so kind. Kind enough to try and spare your feelings. Feelings you don’t have. You’re graded for combat. You’re just another weapon in a vast arsenal. Cold, unfeeling, inhuman. You’re supposed to be, anyway.

#this is just my read of the character but I don't think Simon is a particularly violent guy #or like he is but only in regards to his work #and I think it sort of triggered him a little that he got so violent with Die when they fucked #the problem here is that Die is a lot more human than either of them give her credit for #like Ghost said she isn't a proper demon #Simon needs someone that he can be soft with #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #x reader #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x oc #simon riley x oc #oc: die #demon!darlings au #hurt no comfort #It was really nice of Ghost to try and spare Die from hearing him say all that #really says a lot about him

[allfortheslay25]

Gumlee AU aka my comfort soft pastel no hurt all comfort Andreil AU

Baker Neil (who doesn’t have a sweet tooth) and Sweet Tooth Musician Andrew

(Instead of exy, Neil’s obsessed with baking)

Since this is a no hurt au I wanted a way to include Neil’s scars without making them scars so instead I gave him vitiligo where his scars used to be

#aftg #all for the game #art #doodles #fanart #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the pastel #comfort no hurt #comfort au #gumlee au #baker Neil Josten #musician Andrew Minyard #soft aesthetic #pastel

[sicktember]

It's Not Too Late To Join In The Fun!

Sicktember is a month-long whump/hurt/comfort prompt event that takes place in September. This event focuses on sick characters and their caregivers.

There are still about two weeks until the official start of the event- but hey! Being fashionably late never hurt anyone.

Link to the original post with a [text version of prompts]

Link to [Faqs] Post

Link to [#event faqs] blog search

Link to [How to Submit Content] Post

Link to [#2023 prompt clarification] blog search

Link to [#resources and advice] blog search

#sicktember #sicktember 2023 #all fandom event #hurt/comfort event #whump event #sickfic prompts #writing prompts #prompt event #30 days of prompts #fanfiction #fanart #sick characters #sicknario #whump tropes #sickfic whump #fever prompts #sneeze prompt #coughing prompt #headache prompt #soft whump #nausea prompt #whumpee and caretaker #all creative mediums welcome #OCs and OWs welcome

[hitlikehammers]

nowhere without you

rating: t ♥️ cw: post-final battle, hurt/comfort ♥️ tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, BIG emotions, even BIGGER love, as in: soul-deep love, softness; happy endings always ♥️

for @steddielovemonth day eight: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

(also probably the humble love-soaked endlessly-devoted beginnings of the rockstar!husbands in je ne regrette rien)

The weirdest part is how, in the aftermath, Eddie doesn’t speak. Like, at all.

Scratch that: it’s the weirdest and the most concerning part. Eddie makes noise, mostly pained kinda moans that make Steve’s chest clench, ache more the admittedly-decently-deep wounds slowly—but reliably, like, consistently—stitching themselves together, and Steve begs him to get looked at again, because something has to be wrong to cause those kinds of sounds but Eddie doesn’t even shake his head, doesn’t really move at all save that sometimes he trembles, and it’s…

It fucking breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s almost gotten used to stroking Eddie’s hair in silence—so wrong; worthy Eddie that’s just so wrong—and working any tangles out so, much as it’s getting a limp and greasy with days of neglect, at least it’s smooth; but he’s almost resigned to this for the long haul because he’ll weather anything he has to for Eddie and they’ll work through this, whatever this is, they’ll worth through it together and—

“How did you stand you it?”

The sound is more a scratch than anything, glass on sandpaper, and it’s down to Eddie lying where he hasn’t left for the last four, going on five days—as in, not once while Steve’s been awake has he existed without Eddie’s weight situated just so against his chest, sinuous and deliberate in where he presses against, careful as a rule of Steve’s worst injuries and delicate about how he rests against Steve’s body, but not…hesitant.

More, kinda…kinda desperate.

So it’s down to him being pressed so close and sure and unwavering that Steve feels him speak more than anything, matches the motion of his lips against Steve’s gown to words rather than the wind, or something outside his door to the halls of the hospital beyond; it’s down to the tension in the whole of him, the all-too-present shaking that Steve matches the scrape of the question to a hurt that’s…that maybe Steve doesn’t wholly understand just yet, but that really and truly does cut him deeper and closer and more critical at the core of him than the Upside Down ever could have clawed in: Eddie lives in him, nothing else can really…ever hope to be deeper.

“How are you,” Eddie rolls gravel across more words, and Steve’s missed his voice so fucking much, he didn’t realize how much until it’s here again for him to hear and hold but, Jesus fuck, it’s like…it’s like it’s drowning; like Eddie is drowning and then his breath is hitching, and oh, god, that voice is cracking around the edge of a sob, watery and wavering as he damn-near close to begs:

“How did you survive it?”

Steve feels it clench in his ribs, because he thinks he…he thinks he’s putting it together. The strain, the agony in that voice, that voice he loves so fucking much, from this man he loves with everything, but then—the way Eddie presses into him. The force, and the position, and the pattern. The way he’s been quiet, unfailing, but never…never seems distant, seems the opposite: seems focused; intent. The way Dustin had come in and caught him upon the things he’d missed in one of the almost-nonexistent windows where Eddie sleeps, hand lines alongside his sternum and head curled in the most uncomfortable pretzel Steve can imagine, forehead all scrunched and eyes squeezed shut so goddamn hard, looking like any sleep he manages is nothing close to rest by any measure: but Dustin had came in and told him Eddie was the first to him; Eddie ran faster than he’d seen a person run; Eddie’d looked devastated, broken when they’d caught up, and they’d been so afraid, feared the worst, and—

Steve’s starting to fit the pieces together. Maybe.

“No,” Eddie whines, pitchy and fervent and almost ear-splitting, like a wail of sheer gut-wrenching pain that Steve can’t find the reason for in the here and now because it’s just them in a hospital room, they’re okay, and his hand presses heavy, gentle around his wounds still, always gentle and so, so careful and Steve doesn’t know what’s caused the reaction, but then—

Then he can feel his fucking heartbeat for how hard Eddie’s pressing. It’s weird, how it makes him feel…strangely alive, the sensation of it kept and held like that, specifically in Eddie’s hand. And he’s not paying attention to the monitors really, tuned them out as quick as he could but when he listens, okay. Okay, maybe faster than normal, but Steve’s fucking worried, okay, he’s—

“Fuck, no,” Eddie moans and twists his head, no, not just his head, his ear and leans harder into Steve’s chest, his breathing shallow and Steve hates it but he doesn’t know what to do, how to help, what to fix because he’ll fix it if he knows, he’ll climb out of this bed and crawl on the goddamn floors of he has to, but he doesn’t know where to go, what to find, what demon’s left to slay—

“I’m just, I’m grateful you did,” survive, Steve survived…

He survived, like, now?

“But grateful’s such a weak word, it doesn’t,” and Steve takes a breath, and reaches, rests his hand on Eddie’s wrist just to see: his heartbeat’s somuch faster, it’s like a flutter of a flutter felt strong enough to break through skin, it catches in Steve’s heart just to touch—

“You’re so much stronger than I could ever, like,” Eddie’s going on, still breathless and fuck, Steve can see why; “fucking hope to be.”

Shit, but that’s…he wasn’t stronger, fuck, Steve wasn’t stronger than Eddie, Eddie nearly got eaten alive, Steve nearly couldn’t staunch enough of the bleeding, he almost lost—

Eddie keens, horrible and hurting and Steve stills: the monitor. The thundering of his own pulse at the memory.

How did you survive it?

Losing. Almost losing. That’s…that’s what it is.

That’s why Eddie’s pressed against his chest, his his head and his hand have been a fucking frame, goddamn, like, parentheses surrounding Steve’s beating heart, proof of life, Jesus—

“But I need to be,” Eddie’s voice is quiet, but steadier, and his chin dips like a nod to himself; “I need to learn how,” he’s firm with it; “for you.”

Oh, god. Oh…oh Eddie.

“I can’t ever lose you, Steve,” Eddie presses trembling lips to Steve’s chest and then presses close again, so close and oh: he wasn’t just intent where he’s been silent so long.

He was listening.

“Never ever,” he breathes against Steve, hot and damp; almost kinda breathless again, or still: “never ever.”

“Eds,” Steve begins, not even entirely sure where he plans to go, just knows he needs to do something, say something, but Eddie’s turning Steve’s hand in his, where he’d circled Eddie’s wrist; he’s turning it and mirroring the hold, gripping Steve’s wrist in kind.

“I couldn’t find it,” he gasps, and the sound makes the sob clear before Steve feels the wetness soak through to his skin; “I couldn’t feel it at all, you were, it,” he presses his fingers in hard, squeezes so goddamn tight, and Steve can’t…he doesn’t want to imagine what Eddie had to do, what Eddie found and felt, he doesn’t but he can, because he remembers the mirror image so stark, it took him so long because he couldn’t find a pulse either, he’d had to press on Eddie’s heart at the source and even then—

“I couldn’t feel you.”

Oh. Fuck. He—

“Oh, baby,” Steve’s elevated enough at an angle that he can at least kiss Eddie’s hair, barely brush his scalp but it’s enough, for the breath that punches from Eddie against his chest it’s at least something; “that’s…”

“I won’t survive that again, Steve,” Eddie sucks in, unsteady and drenched with tears, with sorrow, but also…also more than anything else, they’re filled up with so much love.

A love big enough to hurt that hard.

“And I can’t…” Eddie gasps, breath catching; “I can’t handle not feeling it,” and his fingers tighten; his hand on Steve’s chest and his cheek across from it press down that extra little bit so Steve knows his own heartbeat in those moments full and deep.

“Have to feel it always,” Eddie whispers like he’s telling himself, and Steve, and Steve’s heart through flesh and bone, some cosmic secret no one else can know: too sacred. Too precious.

“You can feel it any time,” Steve lets his hand fall from Eddie’s to cover the hand Eddie’s got splayed ln his chest, counting time; holds him there almost protectively: “all the time,” and he slips his fingers between Eddie’s and shifts his palm close to the beating, so he can still feel what he needs as he murmurs with his heart literally in Eddie’s hands, with his entire goddamn soul:

“All of me. It’s yours.”

Unshakable fucking fact. He doesn’t even have to will it, or hope for it; his heartbeat knocks that heavier against their hands for those words like it knows.

It knows.

“Don’t leave me,” Eddie bursts out, begging; almost something primal, and Steve can feel the tremoring of his lips where they drag against him; “please. I’ll do anything, I swear it, just don’t—“

“Be you,” Steve braves the whimper that comes from untangling his hand from Eddie so that he can reach for Eddies cheek and cradle him in closer, and oh, fuck, thank god: something in him sighs out and loosens, ever so slightly—finally.

“Everything you are,” Steve presses on, runs his thumb back and forth through Eddie’s drooping curls; “let me love you, past living and dying,” and Eddie’s breath catches, for that, but Steve holds him tighter for it, drowns him as best he’s able in the proof he needs so bad; “don’t leave me,” and Eddie huffs a little for that, like it’s beyond believing, impossible, and Steve smiles to himself for it, tries to lean enough to press the grin to Eddie’s head, hopes he manages as he murmurs there close:

“That’s it, Eddie,” and he lets his fingers spread wider, cradle Eddie all the more: “that’s all I need.”

“That and more baby,” Eddie answers him between the double-beat of his pulse, immediate; “you’re the music and the rhythm,” he nuzzles a little against him, and Steve smiles a little wider for it; “you’re the reason my heart beats,” and Steve finds that heartbeat for himself at Eddie’s jaw, now; a little calmer. Not much. But: something.

It’s a start.

”I don’t have a reason without you,” Eddie exhales, vehement; “I don’t want a reason, without you.”

And Steve should maybe push on it, or be scared by it: but neither seem right, not for this.

Not for them.

Steve just holds Eddie’s pulse under the pressure of his touch, and holds Eddie’s cheek closer still into his chest as he breathes:

“You’re my whole heart, Eds,” and he lets a second pass, and then another, for that heart of Eddie’s to pump evidence unshakable against him, to play the song and rhythm straight into his waiting ear:

“Was never going anywhere without you.”

♥️ ao3 link here

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #established relationship #established steddie #soul-deep love #soft #like: excessive softness #BIG emotions #happy ending #post-final battle with the Upside Down #hurt Steve Harrington #proof-of-life #Eddie’s feeling very fragile and desperate #Steve may be in a hospital bed but hell if that stops him from trying to fix what’s hurting his boy #if that means letting Eddie rest against his chest for all of eternity then that’s what he’s gonna damn well do #steddielovemonth #love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him #stranger things

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

wormie wormie wormie wormi-

#tiny little guy!!! teeny thing!!! #i imagine that wormie acts kinda like a cat mixed with a crow #also she Violently wiggles her whole body when she sees barnaby. thank you for coming to my ted talk #fully convulsing. acting as though she's jello in a centrifuge #and she Does Not Stop until she is held so barnaby has to figure out how to pick her up w/o hurting her #its very amusing in my mind... hes laughing his ass off as she flops all over the place #she doesnt make noise except for very brief quiet squeaks!! #also wormie is not technically female. no one knows what the fuck she is if anything #but barnaby started referring to her with feminine terms and it Stuck #kinda like finding a cool object and going 'oh she's neat' #yeah like that! #wormie lore hidden in the fantasy au... #scribble salad #wh fantasy au #im melting picturing barnaby holding her by the 'handle' #he commissioned the harness himself... made out of the same leather as his gloves! & the same etched design as his boots! #guys im so soft thinking about them.... barnaby and his little pet worm... #i imagine he teaches her tricks... carries her on his hat.... baby talks her cause she's just that tiny how could he not.... #im picturing a Scenario where barnaby full speed full force bodyslams eddie who was just walkin along #like Full Force. eddie flies back ten feet and leaves a groove in the dirt when he lands - everyone goes Hey What The Fuck Barn?! #but as soon as he does it barnaby is rushing over like 'omfg im so sorry but i had to - you were about to step on wormie'

[virgo-dream]

Some Mornings 🌙

dreamling / fluff / all comfort / gen / 1.1k+ words

A little gift for my friend @softest-punk!!! set in the universe of their amazing a/b/o regency au fic, A Man Of Good Fortune. This has spoilers for that fic!!!! Wrote this really quickly before bed. I hope it’s okay!! No beta but we don’t die we ball 🙏 edit: now also available to read on ao3

Some mornings are easier than others, when one finds themselves in the state Dream is currently in. He remembers how mornings were when he was pregnant with Orpheus; the bedroom always felt colder in the morning than it did at night, partly due to his bed chambers facing away from the afternoon sun, and partly due to the lack of his mate’s presence next to him in bed. The first few months were filled with a sort of dread, creeping up quicker every day that went by. Would all mornings be like this? The fear of knowing the answer was almost as bad as the realisation that he would not be proven wrong.

Things were definitely different now. Dream would usually wake up to the darling shape of Hob silhouetted by the gentle morning sun filtered through the curtains. He’d be kissed, gently, sweetly, every morning. Hob made sure to always wake up before Dream, to be the one to bring him breakfast, to help him through the nausea that would take over his stomach almost every morning. The bigger Dream’s belly got, the more admiration and awe he could see in Hob’s eyes. He found himself worshipped for the same reason he’d been previously discarded, and wasn’t that a blessing?

Some mornings were easier than others, for him. As winter slowly approached their home by the sea, some mornings became harder than most for Hob.

Dream could see it in the way Hob seemed to be hiding a slightly more intense limp than on a usual day. He noticed the tension on his husband’s jaw, the tautness of his shoulders, and how, by Hob’s standards, he seemed less cheerful than what Dream had grown accustomed to. Still, Hob insisted in waking up earlier than Dream, in bringing him breakfast in bed, in holding Dream’s belly to give his back a break; no matter that it would be on the expense of Hob’s poor knee and bad shoulder. Dream noticed the effort, as he noticed every new lovely grey hair and every beautiful line on the corner of his mate’s eyes when he smiled. He’d winced more times than Dream would have liked to, though.

———

That morning, Hob Gadling woke up to the silhouette of his very pregnant husband blocking the sunlight coming in from the window. He blinked his eyes slowly, being made aware, also, of the pain on his knee the moment his body decided to stir.

The sight of Dream’s belly was still a wonder to him. Hob remembered the moment he’d first laid eyes on Dream; he remembered how ethereal and otherworldly he looked. Hob also remembered the hollowness of Dream’s cheeks, his slightly chapped lips and the fragility in his gaze. Now, Dream housed a whole other being inside him, with fuller cheeks tinted rosy pink and eyes filled with newfound confidence. It was magical. It made Hob proud.

“Good morning, dearest.” Dream’s voice sounded like music to Hob’s ears. He watched as Dream leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Instinctively, Hob’s hand reached for his mate’s belly, almost in an effort to make sure Dream was real.

Hob had been trying to say some nicer things, more poetic, to honour Dream’s taste for endearments. He wasn’t sure if he was succeeding, but he was surely trying. “…do my eyes deceive me, or do I witness a solar eclipse?”

Dream raises a brow, and if it weren’t for the fondness in those blue eyes, Hob would have believed him to take offence. “Do you intend to say I am shaped like the moon now?”

“No! well, yes. But also in the poetic sense. There’s a celestial body shielding my eyes from the morning sun—“

Hob’s would have continued in his attempt to compare Dream to the moon, had it not been for the sharp pain travelling from his knee to his spine in his attempt to sit up in bed. Dream quickly comes to his aid, placing a hand on Hob’s upper back, the other clasping at Hob’s hand to help him sit up. “Dove, you shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I have noticed your discomfort in the past week, beloved. Not only I, but so has Lucienne. So has Orpheus.” Dream is careful not only in his aiding of Hob, but in the tone he chooses to deliver his words. “Do you intend to teach our son to hide his pain? To refuse care? How do you benefit from it? How do I, or our children?”

Our son. Our children.

Hob wasn’t planning to cry so early that day. He thinks of saying something, but Dream seems to have really thought out what he was about to say. There was a fierceness in the kindness of his tone, a gentleness to his fire.

“—I do not wish to chastise you, only to provide you with that which you’ve been so generous in giving me. I’ve not once felt the need to hide my discomfort from you. I would hope you allow yourself the same liberties.”

“Dove, I—“ Hob squeezes Dream’s hand. He’s unsure of how to deal with the emotions quickly bubbling up in his chest. “I’m your alpha. I’m here to take care of you. I’ve said it, I serve—“

“—at my pleasure, yes. And it will be my pleasure to care for you.”

Hob grins, and he can feel his nose getting stuffy from the tears now streaming down his cheeks. Dream is quick to wipe them away, coming closer to press kisses to Hob’s cheeks and to the tip of his nose. “Allow me this, dearest. There’s nothing that will bring me more joy than to see your pain relieved.”

“God, how I love you. Yes, please. I need it.”

———

Some mornings are easier than others. Dream found that taking care of Hob made even his own discomfort easier to bear. He wondered, as he helped his husband to the bathroom to wash his face, if Hob found the same comfort in taking care of him. He already had his answer, and it filled him with joy as big as his belly had gotten.

There was something else entirely new and fulfilling about helping Hob sit back on the bed, fluffing up his pillows and bringing in a warm blanket to keep his knee away from the cold. Lucienne was incredible help with the things that were more physically taxing, and Orpheus was just as excited to spend the day in bed reading with and to his dads than he would have catching frogs outside by the pond. Hob would sometimes reach for Dream’s belly, rubbing it gently and making circles with the tip of his fingers. Dream was glad to be able to offer comfort, no matter how small. He was falling in love again, as he surely would in the next morning, and every morning after.

Some mornings were easier than others. That morning, Dream would cherish forever.

#dreamling week #dreamling week 2023 #dreamling fic #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #dreamling #hob gadling #fluff #no hurt all comfort #this is for you soft!!!