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bratzforchris · 2 days

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Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”, “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort.

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits.

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face.

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest.

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself.

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate.

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness.

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back.

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better.

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow.

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter.

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled.

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup.

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything.

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee.

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered.

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade.

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined.

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?”

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red.

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted.

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door.

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again.

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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melyzard · 2 days

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The World is Amazing, Actually (Part 11 or 12, I lost count)

It's been awhile since I made a post about how fucking rad the world actually is, and amidst all the pandemics and climate change and economic troubles, I felt the need.

So:

Today’s Wild Place (The Earth is An Alien Planet):

The Danakil Depression, Ethiopia:

The Danakil Depression is probably the closest you'll ever be able to come to standing on the surface of Venus (without the crushing atmosphere, of course). Choking sulphuric acid and chlorine gases fill the air, while acid ponds and geysers pepper the landscape.

- Daisy Dobrijevic, published July 4, 2022

(BTW scientists recently discovered microbes capable of surviving in this toxic, extremely hot environment, which means...well, even if we kick the bucket, life will continue. There's something comforting in knowing that no matter how bad we screw up...life will go on.)

Today’s Incredible Feat of Engineering (look! at what! we made!):

Ouarzazate Solar Power Station in Morocco, which has gone solar in a big way.

(Which means they are making a huge contribution to helping fight toxic pollution, noise pollution, water use, land destruction, and carbon emissions. No really, there are charts. Reducing carbon emissions charts. Reducing irresponsible land use charts. Charts! Graphs! Data samples!)

Today’s Cool Life Form (the rare, the weird, the beautiful):

The Hispaniolan Solenodon.

A very rare, nocturnal, shrew-like creature that is one of the few mammals able to produce venom. Look at him! Look at his snout! He's just a little guy! He will bite you and run away on his back legs! He's rare, and endangered, but not gone! Not gone yet, bitches!

(Bonus: 10 Fun Facts About the Solenodon)

Today’s Bizarre Mystery (no, seriously, wtf?):

The Great Unconformity.

Hey, remember the Grand Canyon? Remember how we can see the passage of time through each layer, going back hundreds of thousands of years?

Did you know that apparently, on this massive record of earth's geological history, there's a chunk of time missing? Science has some hypotheses about how and why this happens (and yes, it's been found in more than one place), but they are really only hypotheses, and no one's really sure what happened to, oh, 1.6 billion years, give or take.

Today’s Act of Humanity (yes, we are worth the effort):

After fleeing a war, Ukrainians rush to help Mississippi tornado victims.

"They made the 16-hour drive south to donate bottled water and volunteer with aid workers, buoyed by the idea that they could help a community facing a similar struggle to theirs.

“We had to leave our home,” Pavliuk told The Washington Post in Ukrainian, in an interview interpreted by Hrebenyk. “And they don’t have a place to go back, either.”"

NEW CATEGORY:

Today's Good News About The Future (No, It's Not Too Late and Anyone Who Says Otherwise is Selling Something):

The Saiga Antelope, a species critical to the continued survival of huge swathes of grassland, that in 2003 was down to 6% of it's population and already extinct in it's natural habitat of China and Ukraine, has rebounded back to almost 2 million strong thanks to conservation efforts.

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digi-lov · 1 day

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Digimon Card Template->

Hey guys, I finally finished the templates! A few words to read before using, and more words under the cut if you will. I'd love to see any and all cards you create, so feel free to leave me an ask or DM! Also if you feel like supporting me a little, feel free to stop by my ko-fi->

First off, all fonts you need for the template are in the "Card Template Fonts" rar file. Remember to install them first before opening the files. Second, I recommend working with the PSD file in Photoshop, if you can. It has more and easier customization. If you use CSP, do use the CSP files. The PSD Text layers don't work in CSP, as well as certain other settings. I did my best to adapt the file to CSP, and it should work fine!

The Files have "HELP" layers in certain folders, I recommend reading them! Some of the Information I will repeat under the cut.

HAVE FUN! I wanna see lotta cards!

Okay, below the cut I'll leave some notes on how the Digimon cards are designed, as of the num <03> era at least.

Digimon cards have seven different colors. Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, Black, Purple, and White. White cards are rare and reserved for special Digimon/Tamers, and usually don't interact with other colors. For easier reading, Yellow and White cards have black text in their colors, instead of the usual white text. On multicolored cards, card including Yellow (or white in theory) have white text with a black outline. (before <03> if Yellow was the first color, the text was black with white outline instead, but they unified it with the update) The color on the left is considered the first color. Since the design update, the Card color is displayed in a color wheel around the Play cost. The digivolution cost bubble also recieved a color wheel, as well as the buble being split into the differen colors. Imagining it like a clock, the top color is the first, and then circling clockwise. Digi-Egg, or Lv.2 Digimon are always single color.

[tricolored cards have been introduced just recently and super rare. use sparingly]

Now to the Effects. The main effect is in white color with a black outline (also outlines on the keywords), while the Inherited Effect doesn't have outlines (unless it's a Yellow double color). If the Digimon has no Inherited Effect, there will be a small dash in the box.

Only white cards have black text in their main effect.

The effect text will start in the lower bottom of the image, not all the way at the bottom, and go down from there. If the Effect is too long it will move up.

Besides the regular evolution requirements, Digimon may have special "Digivolve" rules in their effect. This can make an evolution from a specific digimon cheaper, allow X Antibody Digimon to evolve from their normal counterparts, serve to overlook color requirements, or to allow evolution from certain traits, etc.

Some Digimon may also have an extra "Rule" in the bottom corner.

Ace Digimon will always have [Hand][Counter]<Blast Digivolve> effects. So far, they all had no inherited effects. They also have a significantly cheaper play cost than comparable Digimon, but in turn have the Overflow mechanic. EX6 introduced Blast DNA Digivolution, which specifies the required Digimon by name, and not just Level and color.

Lv.6 Digimon usually don't have inherited Effects, some might though, if they were made with Lv.7 evolution in mind. Furthermore Lv.6 Digimon pop out of their frame, even on the normal arts.

Now Tamers originally had neither traits, nor inheritence effects. But certain Tamers now do! Tamers with Mind Link effects, or the kids from Frontier for example, will have Inherited Effects.

Option cards have a grey backdrop for their effects, and the effect text is black. This black effect text carries over to full/alt arts, regardless of color. The have a (use) cost instead of a play cost. They can also have traits or rules, but it is rare.

#digimon #digimon tcg #digimon card game #digica #digisafe #デジカ #digimon card #digimon template #template #digi community #digi lov edits

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weaselle · 1 day

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@ffoxer howdy! happy to oblige :)

i used to have a dresser and a bunch of hangers in my closet and like, closet organizer thingamabobs, but instead of using any of that stuff my clothes were always in several piles around my room.

And i felt shitty about it all the time but couldn't seem to make myself the kind of person who kept their clothes folded and organized. My room was constantly cluttered with clothes like drifts of snow scattered and piled here and there. Like, i felt really REALLY shitty about that. Deep shame

any ADHDers and spoonies out there relate?

SO one day, i said to myself, what if i'm okay the way i am? What if i just need to refine how i already do things a little bit instead of insisting on reinventing my entire identity?

Did i really care about being the kind of person who's socks were rolled just so, and whose shirts were all folded perfectly and arranged by color or whatever?

What i did care about was not living in a cluttered, messy, unorganized, embarrassing space.

And it turns out my piles WERE an organization system. What's more, my piles were a system that had been shaped by the way i actually use my clothes, it was a system that made sense for how i live my life. And i bet it's the same for most of you who relate to what i've been saying so far.

There were the clothes that were dirty, the clothes that had been worn but could be worn again, and the clean clothes (often dumped from the washer to the bed with the intent of folding and putting away, then slept next to when that didn't happen, and finally transferred to the floor next to my bed or piled in my closet once i gave up)

These three piles (dirty, clean, wear again) made up my "i wear this stuff all the time" wardrobe, and then everything else was still in the dresser i never actually used, with a few remaining almost-never-worns hanging in the closet.

This made my dresser, essentially, just a bin of clothes i could label "rarely wear"

And the thing i hated about my piles was that they looked messy, and took up too much space, and cluttered my room, and anyone who came into my room instantly assumed i was a disaster of a human because that's what it looked like. And, honestly, that's what it felt like too.

But i could change all of that and still have piles if i just... put my piles in bins! Then they would clearly be on purpose. And contained. And on purpose contained piles aren't a mess! They're a tidy organizational system.

So i got rid of my dresser and most of my hangers and i bought four of those plastic bins with the lids that you can get anywhere from hardware stores to target. Now, if you want to inhabit a fancier lifestyle, you can get nicer bins, they make all kinds, from canvas to wicker to polished wood or whatever suits your style and budget, I'm currently using the plastic ones, but when i move i'm planning on getting something more like this

the point is, these bins contain my piles without me having to change the piles at all.

now instead of having to sort all that stuff into different drawers i just have 4 simple bins

1: clean clothes

2: dirty clothes

3: stuff i might wear a second (or third) time

4: clothes i almost never wear

remember how those first three piles make up my "wear all the time" stuff? Well, each of the first two bins are big enough to contain all those clothes (which for me is about two loads of laundry).

I have a smaller bin for clothes i've worn but could wear again. And the last one, almost-never-wear, is actually the biggest one. And naturally a couple almost-never-wear things still get hung in the closet.

So when my "wear all the time" bin is empty, that means the dirty bin is about full, and i just add the might-wear-again stuff to it and carry that bin to the washer. When it comes out of the dryer, i still follow my natural instincts to dump them in a pile and forget about them, it's just now i dump that pile into the clean bin, where they belong.

And when i'm digging for something in the bin and can't find it, just like when i would dig in my closet, i can just dump it all out on my bed to find things like i used to, but then it goes back in the bin with a sweep of the arm.

The clothes naturally sort themselves out this way, too. Say every time you go to do your laundry because you "have nothing to wear" there are the same few items left in the bottom of your clean bin. Well those are clearly part of your almost-never-wears and you can dump them in that bin before you wash your laundry. When the weather gets cold, i put most of my shorts and tank-tops in the almost-never-wear bin. I make room for them by taking out my everyday winter wear to go in the clean bin.

I can put the bins where it makes the most sense for how i use my room naturally. For instance, my sweatshirts and jeans i might wear again always used to wind up draped over the back of my desk chair, so now i put my could-wear-again bin right by my desk. If I want my room to be extra tidy, i just stack all the bins in the closet where the dresser used to be, which takes like twenty seconds.

and the BEST part is, because my bins are just the piles i was naturally already creating, my clothes stay in their bins, which is inarguably a system of organization, and my room is actually clean and orderly, no messy clothes piles in sight!

i did a similar thing with my paper piles and now there's very little clutter and i don't feel like a failure of a person about my room the way i used to!

I have accomplished Clean Organized Room without having to change who i am or how i live! 10/10 highly recommend

#my life #spoons #adhd #laundry

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ladykailitha · 2 days

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Well Met By Moonlight Part 13

Hey, guys do you all remember that period of time when I was working on this story but refused to show you snippets of it on WIP Wednesdays? Yeah, this is that chapter. (I'm pretty sure, anyway. Because this shit was super spoilery.)

We finally get what happened to Steve and why he didn't grow up as Pack. This chapter does get a little dark in its themes so be careful when you read and if you need specifics, DM me and I'll fill you in.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Eddie and Wayne landed in front of their trailer with a deft touch. Eddie still wasn’t over the joy of being able to fucking fly. Like sure when he was younger, Wayne would take him for flights occasionally, but nothing beat banking on a breeze as the wind lifted him higher and higher.

“Your boy’s got a mouth on him,” Wayne said gruffly as he walked up the stairs to their trailer.

Eddie chuckled. “Always had. Even in school.”

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “True enough.”

As soon as they were safe inside, Eddie asked, “Hey, do you remember that couple who took Stevie in when his parents died?”

Wayne frowned. “You mean the Franklins?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yeah, them. Why was Steve placed with them? And not, I don’t know, the pack?”

“Ah.”

Wayne went to the kitchen and pulled out a six pack of beers. “That’s a bit of story. Drink up, you’ll need it for this.”

Eddie opened up a can of beer and settled in for story time.

Wayne downed an entire beer and wiped his mouth off with his sleeve.

“Hopper had gotten bad,” Wayne began. “Like real bad.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. That was around the time I came to live with you, right?”

Wayne nodded. “It wasn’t just drinking. It was drugs, too. And not just weed, either. I’m talking the heavy stuff.”

Eddie nodded. He had sold said heavy stuff to Hopper just before he cleaned up with El coming into his life. When Wayne asked him why, Eddie told him that he had no idea what he was doing with it and honestly didn’t care.

Knowing what Eddie did now, he regretted it, but he was so close to being able to afford his Warlock that that was all he cared about at the time.

“Steve’s dad Clint Harrington was getting ready to challenge Hopper for the position of alpha,” Wayne continued. “He knew that he might kill Hopper, but at that point it probably would have been a mercy.”

Eddie nodded solemnly. Maybe if Clint Harrington had lived, lived to be the alpha, the town wouldn’t be experiencing the troubles it was now.

“So what happened?” he asked gravely.

“Allison’s father died out in New York,” Wayne said. “The timing of it was so suspect, Ed. Like, you know I hate conspiracies with every fiber of my being, because there rarely is one. But this smelled rank from the get go.”

“You think whoever had the Harringtons killed,” Eddie said, “you think also popped off Granpappy, too, don’t you?”

Wayne glared at him, but conceded the point. “Whatever happened to the Harringtons was bad, boy. Like their bodies were savaged–”

He stopped and his eyes went wide. “It was exactly like this morning. I couldn’t tell the scent then, just like I couldn’t now.”

Eddie nodded. “As near as I could tell, there wasn’t a scent to be had. Whatever it was who killed the Harringtons and attacked Patrick, didn’t leave behind a scent.”

“There are very few things in this world that leave a scent so minuscule I could barely detect it,” Wayne said.

Eddie nodded. “So what happened with Steve after they died?” He was interested in the other thing, but he was really worried about his boyfriend.

“The old mayor, Larry Kline and I,” Wayne said amused, “made the decision that the pack wasn’t safe for Steve. But despite what Steve thinks the Franklins weren’t human.”

Eddie frowned. “They weren’t?”

“They were Were too,” he said with wary tilt of his head. “Were-bat. We figured that with them being at least Weres would be able to teach him how to shift and how to shift back comfortably.”

“So what went wrong?” Eddie asked, moving closer to Wayne on the sofa. “Because holy hell, pops, if Steve had been human CPS would have been called and fast.”

Wayne drank more of his beer and then rubbed one eye with the other hand. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. There were no indications that Steve was anything other than a kid who’s parents died and was adjusting to it. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly happy, but we didn’t expect him to be, you know?”

“So what changed?”

Wayne drank the last of his beer and set it on the coffee table. “They were away on a trip and I don’t know if they forgot, didn’t care, or planned it... but Steve wolfed out for the first in his entire life when he was eighteen.”

“What?!”

Weres were supposed to shift for the first time when they hit puberty. Early teens for most of them. But to not shift until you were eighteen was just begging for the Were to go insane.

“Fucking hell, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie groaned. “Whoever this is is playing a long ass game. Jesus Christ. They were hoping he would go crazy, ending the Harrington line for good. So what happened?”

Wayne licked his lips. “Steve ran to me. He was frightened. Terrified out of his mind. Old Mack nearly shot the poor bastard as he came tearing through the trailer park.”

“Jesus H. Christ...” Eddie whispered.

Wayne chuckled. “It wouldn’ve done shit, it was just a regular bullet, it wouldn’ve even slowed him down.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. “So what stayed Mack’s hand then?”

“You’ve seen your boy in wolf form,” Wayne said, “can you imagine how beautiful he looked then? The cream of his under belly blending with the warm brown of his back and face as he tore down the gravel pavement?”

Eddie could imagine it in fact. Steve was gorgeous as a human, but as a werewolf? He was exquisite. It came from his mixed breeding of being born from another born werewolf and his turned wife. Born werewolves tended to be more timber wolf in their appearance. Almost dire wolf-esque. Big, with course fur and fierce. Bitten werewolves tended toward the smaller red wolves. Quick, slender, and cunning as hell.

Steve was a mix of these two breeds and it made him the most beautiful thing on four legs Eddie have ever scene.

“To fire at something so majestic would have been a travesty,” Wayne was saying when Eddie came back from his revery. “So Mack just stood there, rifle in hand as Steve made straight for my door.”

Eddie frowned. “Where was I? I don’t remember this.”

“You and your friends had gone to Indy for some concert or another,” Wayne said. “I don’t rightly recall.”

Eddie’s frown got deeper, he’d only gone to one concert with his friends in Indy because one of the ‘85 Hellfire Club members had gotten tickets for graduation and had taken all of them.

“Is that why you weren’t home when I got back into Hawkins?” he asked. “You were dealing with Steve?”

Wayne nodded and popped open another bottle of beer. He held one up to Eddie, but he shook his head. Eddie held up his still mostly full can. Wayne licked his lips.

“You’ll want to drink more of that,” he muttered.

Eddie did as he was told and it took the edge off of his anxiety but settled sour in his stomach.

“After I got Steve sedated,” Wayne said, “and yes it was fucked up I even had to in the first place, I went a paid the Franklins a visit.”

“That sounds ominous,” Eddie said flatly.

Wayne grinned. “They tried to tell me that they were frightened of Steve. That as a wolf he was much bigger than they were as bats. That all it would take was one snap of his giant jaw and they would be but a morsel to the boy.”

Eddie blinked at his uncle in confusion. “What now? His first change would have been a literal puppy. He wouldn’t have even been able toddle after them, let alone get within biting distance.”

Wayne huffed. “Right in one, boy. And if they had been teaching him from his first change on, he wouldn’t have thought of them as prey at all. Not even on moon nights.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“And then they tried to attack me,” Wayne continued.

“They did what?” Eddie squawked.

“They probably would have succeeded, too,” he said, “but apparently Steve is a hard wolf to keep down and followed me like a lost puppy. When he saw Dick Franklin raise a fucking yew stake to stab me in the back, Steve leapt on him.”

“Where the fuck did they get a yew stake?”

Wayne just shook his head. “The hell if I know, kid. But in comes this wolf and just snatches the damn thing out of Dick’s hand. He runs off with it Ella Franklin hot on his heels in bat form. Bats are fast and she catches up quickly. The problem is that in or out of bat form she knows she no match for Steve, so she tries to blind him by going for his eyes.”

Eddie’s hand covered his mouth as he listened to him go on about this horrible night.

“But despite what a lot of people think,” Wayne continued, “your boy ain’t dumb. He keeps his head down and makes right for the Creel House. He tosses the thrall on duty the stake and suddenly a werebat is face to face with Tammy Thompson, now holding a yew stake as Steve just continues running past the Coven.”

Eddie blinked. “I didn’t realize that Tammy’s family were thralls.”

“Just like the Perkins, Buckleys, and Hagans are hereditary keepers,” Wayne said with a nod, “the Thompsons, Carmichaels, and Bensons have always been hereditary thralls.”

Eddie was starting to think that he really should have paid closer attention to the hierarchies in school, they were a lot more important than he knew.

“Anywho,” Wayne said with a shake of his head. “Ella flies back to their house to find me beating the hell out of Dick. She manages to distract me long enough for Dick to get on his feet, but now it’s two against one and they’re still strong in their human forms, but wicked fast. I was able to take out Dick, the coward that he was, but Ella was proving to be too fast. She was going to get away.”

Eddie drank the rest of his beer and popped open another one. He leaned forward so that he was on the edge of the sofa, and his knee began to shake.

Wayne put his hand his knee to settle it, but Eddie stared at him wild eyed.

“I don’t have to finish if this bothering, Ed,” he said warmly. “I can give you the Cliffnotes.”

Eddie shook his head. “What happened next?”

“Just as she took flight, the thing they had always feared happened,” he said softly. “Steve’s jaws came down on her with a sickening crunch. Dick started spewing all sorts of curse words and things I didn’t understand. Something about how werewolves were a plague among the Weres and that they had to be exterminated and how if Steve hadn’t had my protection they would have drowned the bastard in the bathtub.”

“What. The. Fuck?” Eddie asked, can crumpling in his fist as it tightened on it.

“It didn’t mean anything until the events going on now,” Wayne said with a heavy sigh. He crumpled his can one handed and stared at the twisted mass. “But I think whoever it is who is trying to tear this community apart is getting desperate. They’re starting to make mistakes. And I think one day soon, this is all going to blow up in our faces.”

Eddie gulped, but nodded.

****

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911

@birbsauce @acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson #supernatural creatures

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ashdreams2023 · 14 hours

Note

Hello again! I was wondering if you still do requests and if so, can I request a Severus x reader but platonic? Like we've all read Sev being like a guardian of sorts to students but what if reader is like the prof that cares for Sev when he was a student? Like Severus' favorite teacher is reader cause not only is she smart and teaches well but she has a soft spot for Sevy and is one of the profs that punishes the marauders every time she catches them bothering Snape. Snape can see her as a mother figure that even up to the point that Sev actually became a teacher he still goes to her for his problems and she just babies him lol. (Reader was once the youngest teacher to teach in Hogwarts before Snape took that role)

Alright alright gonna do this now!

Platonic Severus snape x fem reader

All my respect

Severus had a rocky relationship with adults from a very young age that’s for sure, his home life and neighborhood left little in his faith for grown ups.

It was a rocky two first years when he couldn’t even trust his head of house let alone another professor, he felt uncomfortable if he had to seek his head of house for help, he preferred to suffer in silence, even if it meant having to sit in aching bruises from his bullies until he learned how to brew a cooling balm.

No one did a thing to genuinely help him, no one, he hated how everyone overlooked him, how They saw him just as a weird kid who others avoid for no reason but that they didn’t understand him.

That continued until his third year, after a brutal beating from Sirius and his wand almost snapping in half, he remembers it very clearly he was sitting in the hall feeling the entire world was against him.

Then you came, young looking and worried, at the time you were only 28 years of age, he knew you were the new hired substitute professor for charms.

He expected to be scolded and sent to his dorm but instead you kneeled down and without even asking a question tended to his injuries self, he flinched when you first touched his face but that didn’t stop you from applying some healing balm and checking his medical chart with your wand.

He was speechless to say the least, no one ever cared this much about him…even his mother…

"Tell me who did this to you and I don’t want any lies little boy" you tried to sound firm but he could tell you were still panicked about his state and what you saw on his medical charm, he was a scrawny malnourished boy "you can tell me, you’re not gonna be in trouble I promise"

Next thing he knows points have been deducted from the lions and he’s all healed up. Although that still didn’t make him trust you that easily.

But it kept happening, you stopped whoever was bothering him, looked out for him when he seemed a little off and much more, you didn’t rest until you got the marauders suspended from hogwarts for a whole semester because of that idiot and deadly prank.

You scolded him still but always with a gentle hand checking if he’s hurt or hiding an injury like he sometimes did.

"One of these days you will kill me with a heart attack!"

"They started it!"

Heck you even helped him get some rare plants for his potion making and recommended him to higher education, even after he messed up and used that awful name, you believed him, you saw the good in him and stood by his side.

He can thank you a million times but he still feels like it isn’t enough, even now at 35 of age, you’re 50 and still working in the same school.

He comes to you for guidance, he has tea with you every other day and you sit there smiling fondly as he complains and rants about his day, just like the little boy you once knew.

"With all my respect to you mother but these kids are insufferable" it takes him a minute to realize what he just said and he blushes crazily but you chuckle.

"Oh please, you’re the son I never birthed"

Severus sighs still blushing slightly from embarrassment "Isn’t it too late for me to call my professor mum?" He used sarcasm to hide his embarrassment.

You sipped your tea and leaned back on your chair "I remember when you were just a little lad, sneaking around to brew your outrageous potions and getting burned then coming back to me with a pout and tear stained eyes demanding I give you my cooling balm"

He smirked crossing his arms "I can make it myself now, I don’t need to be babied anymore"

"Oh? So you don’t your favorite tea cup?" She laughed softly.

Severus frowned dropping his arms, his tea cup, the one you bought specially for him because the design reminded you of a cauldron, it was childish and looked out of place in your neatly organized cabin with all the good China sets.

But he still went for it, he wouldn’t pick that one round tea cup and take it for himself, you would tease him about needing a grown up one but he would defend himself saying he would do just fine with this one.

"Well, good to know some things just don’t change sevy"

"Don’t call me that I’m a grown adult! I’m taller than you!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night sevy" fighting you was useless, he should’ve known better but he always felt light, he breathed out and let a small smile creep on his lips.

#imagine #severus x reader #severus snape headcanon #severus snape fanfiction #pro severus snape #severussnape #severus #severus snape x you #severus snape x reader #severus snape #snapedom #snape #snape fandom #professor snape #harry potter requests

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venuslcver · 2 days

Text

HIGH BY THE BEACH ⋆

pairing: boyfriend!pope x carefreekook!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend, pope, and you had been together for a while when he changes his mind about not going to college.

tw: fluff, implied sex, profanity (no use of y/n)

any type of interaction including likes, comments, and reblogs is appreciated! but ultimately not necessary. let me know if im missing any warnings!

“ok, baby! which one should i wear? this one or thissss one?” you questioned pope, holding two of your swimsuits in a display manner. one was a lilac-colored string bikini, the other being a cheeky, polka-dot one-piece.

you could never make a final decision for the life of you, only leaving it up to pope for his opinion. though, pope had known you long enough to know, whichever item you tend to show last was the option you had in mind. hell — most of the time you don’t even know that you prefer one option more than the others.

you wanted to wear the left one, pope concluded. no matter if it was clothing, makeup, nail color, or decor-related. not actually having input into the choices, he usually would just coax the answer out of you. it made it easier on him, besides he didn't give a fuck what you wore, because well... he would still find you beautiful dressed as the grinch. which you did a couple halloweens previously.

“uh… i don’t know — which one is more comfortable?” he asked, putting you on the spot, hoping to get an honest answer out of you.

clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth in deep thought — lifting each and inspecting it. trying to remember if it was uncomfortable or not the last time you wore it.

“well i… mean. huh. why is this so hard?” you said truly debating both options. making your final answer, “i would probably go with the right one being more comfortable”

“probably… and i’m just sayin’ this as a thought…maybe it’s hard because you have too many swimsuits”

letting out an obnoxiously high-pitched scoff, you halted your attention from the bathing suit debacle to pope, who was leisurely laid back on your rope hammock swing that you had in your room. you never took kindly to anyone, including pope, criticizing your inability to get rid of things, especially your bathing suits.

“firstly, i don’t have too many swimsuits, and one could never have too many of them. secondly, even if i did — how could that possibly affect my ability to pick a swimsuit?”

awkwardly looking at you, pope reluctantly replied, “you can’t keep up with all of them, making you not even remember the last time you wore them… and the last time you chose the right one, you were complain’n the entire time”

ignoring his truthful statement altogether, you thought for a moment. he was right. the previous time, you ended up bitch’n the whole time about having to hold the straps of the one piece to avoid flashing innocent bystanders on the beach. which was the worst, considering the excitement that you experienced when in the water. flailing around without a care in the world.

a light switched when you came to this realization, noticing that you were rather harsh with your poor boyfriend, who did not deserve that in the slightest.

“oh my god! you are right!”, you said squealing, right into hugging pope’s sitting body.

taking his face into your hands, before hugging him again, “i’m so sorry baby! you know i didn’t mean that, right?”

staying firm in the hug, while he pulled himself out of the hammock, “yeah, yeah i know you didn’t mean it.”, pope said brushing your rudeness off. you and him rarely argued, and if you did, you were talking within the next half hour, easily.

looking up at him with doe eyes, and an innocent cast appearing on your profile. an all-knowing look that pope was very familiar with. one of the ways that pope and you were able to get over any kind of tiff was by admitting to being wrong and taking the proper steps to apologize.

for example, this one time pope got all panicked at the future and started freaking the fuck out. which led him to harboring that he was in the wrong and mishandled the situation at hand. before slipping his hand into you. well... two fingers but either way! pope was giving in that way, regularly lending a helping hand to you when in need. it wasn't an obligation as much as a want. you and pope were alike in that way. always willing to put others first.

"c-can i make it up to you?"

sooner than later making it to the intended place of hanging out, the local beach on the outer banks. looking into the surrounding area in your eyesight, the beach was practically empty. a lot of spring-breakers had vacated the week before. having access to almost a completely bare beach.

you helped pope set up on the beach, before laying horizontally on his vertically propped-up body.

pressing a kiss on the crown of your head, that was in his lap. when he did the leaning down motion, you pushed the pineapple in your hand, to his lips. silently urging him to take a bite. to which he did.

immediately snickering when it ran down his face, halting laughter when it dripped onto yours. lucky that the acidic fruit juices didn't collect in your eyes. either way, pope was quick to wipe it off your face.

oftentimes, pope and you were silent when hanging out. you wouldn't per say it was a con, because it was due to being around each other every second, when not at work. though, when pope's dad, heyward, was short-staffed, you would offer a lending hand. taking a couple shifts, with pope. even, visiting each other at work.

along with packing an array of fruits to snack on, you also brought a weed. one of the conversations you had meant to bring up was the future.

pope was wicked smart, at least, school-wise. his choice of friends was questionable. and as much as you love your shared friends— they tend to be dumbasses. pulling pope down to their level. to which, a couple foul decisions led pope to not attend college— as he previously intended.

one late night, he admitted that he felt like "all the work he put in was sliding down the drain". which riddled you with resentment towards your friends. not that you cared what pope did. only that he was happy— which he wasn't at all for a passing time.

"pope? can i ask you something?"

"yeah— what's up?"

"d-do you have any idea what you want?"

"what i want?", pope asked, not understanding the question at hand.

"want for the future?"

looking at you bewildered, pope had no idea where the loaded question came from.

"uh — besides being with you, i have no clue.", a tinge of sadness rolled off his tongue.

grinning at his, rather, romantic proclamation, "o-ok, well, um i was expecting a little bit more of an answer, b-but that works for me"

"i-i'm worried... like really worried", he admitted.

coming off your high, out of your own fantasy land— that was induced by his heartfelt statement, "why?!"

still supporting his weight with one arm, he took the other and rubbed his face, "why shouldn't i be? i-i mean i was going to go to college, b-but now I'm just working at my dad's restaurant"

pope tended to self-destruct when his fears kicked in, sending him into overdrive. sitting up, looking at him directly in the face, "h-hey don't say that! one, you know that your dad would not keep you unless you were working your ass off! you're like the smartest person i know, out of anyone in outer banks, or hell, anywhere! a-and we'll figure it out."

set on helping understand that he and you would be good, you pulled a small baggie out of your beach bag, "ok?"

"o-okay"

"now, let's get high. and forget about everything, ever."

although he wasn't completely sure, he knew that you would stay by him, meaning he would be completely fine. if the world ended that day, he wouldn't have cared as long as he had you. well, and he would prefer if he had the other pogues and his parents.

#pope heyward #obx #outer banks #pope obx #pope hayward x reader #pope x reader #pope heyward prompt #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward fanfiction #pope heyward smut #pope heyward x y/n #⋆ pope heyward fic ⋆#boyfriend!pope

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annislittleshopofhorrors · 3 days

Note

�� probably doesn’t want to post more because she’s one of those gen Z types that wants to make it look like she’s never on IG.

For (some) of the younger generation , having a lot of followers and “engagement” while not having a lot of posts or “activity” is a flex. there was a period of time when you’d see the trend for gen Z and younger to have 0 posts on IG while having a lot of followers. They don’t want to look like they’re trying too hard or are “too online” such as double posting or posting too often.

🐟 wants to make it seem like organically people are interested in her because she’s so mysterious and rarely active. Except her and everyone else like her are “never online” repeatedly out themselves when they are always the first to like, comment, and engage on their friends posts 🤣.

when nobody knows who you are outside of who you married, and you never post anything about the person you’re married to who would give you clout, then nobody will remember who you are to give you the clout you so badly want.

She is a “public” figure and an “actress” so she needs to use her SM to promote her work and get engagement. She’ll also need to double post or do a more consistent post schedule if she’s trying to compete with all the other actresses in her bracket.

My genuine thought is that she’s hoping to either make her Hollywood debut stick by landing an audition (which she won’t because of her missing talent) and when it doesn’t, she tries to just fall back to “wife of” famous person. She’s not having much luck either way so I think it’s her going back and forth trying to see what sticks. That’s why it’s so inconsistent. For two days she seems like she’s suddenly all about her career then it’s back to following IG accounts that link her to him.

It’s a non stick situation where fame and clout are concerned but her questionable past, friends, old IG likes and posts and comments and of course, her C movie shower debut stuck like gum and tree sap under a shoe

Well, she used to be more active on IG (see my last post) but she tried to create that shy and innocent persona (she's the opposite!).

It's been two years and she still doesn't have a job or found a way to present herself. I don't know how long she wants to go back and forth but the Hollywood clock is ticking.

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oogalaboogalabich · 13 hours

Text

More Durgetash filth for you :) w/ canon durge.

Enver is feeling dominant tonight, more than that, he needs to rid himself of some pent up rage and you are all too happy to oblige him.

He has been wailing on you fairly hard. Fierce and merciless while you arent even bound, tempting danger more than you usually dare. However, your caution seems unwarranted for once.

You are completely blissed out in the sauce though and he cant get the reaction out of you he wants. He wants you to fight back. But that isnt going to happen today. For whatever reason, youre so relaxed under his brutality you fear you may actually drift off into sleep, despite the very very real beating youre getting.

Hes exhausted himself and youre just smiling up at him and bleeding. Its utterly infuriating. Entirely enchanting.

Gortashs good arm is shaking from exhertion and he looks cross as he does pleased.

"I was hoping for a little more fight from you, bhaalspawn."

"Feels too good" your chest is heaving with your ragged breath, your voice seeping from your throat like gravel and chocolate. "Dont want to scream..." Almost soothing enough to ease his ire. He wanted you to cry out today. needed it. Its so rare for enver to be in the mood for this. you feel a twinge of guilt, however small it is. But your still floating in a world off in your own right now, only half present.

"An exchange then." He tosses the tawse to the side and taps a crop under your chin a moment later, lifting it. "What is it you want, beast? How am i to wrench a scream from that pretty blue tongue?"

Your grin resembles more of a snarl, what for him pulling you out of your reverie. He asked you a question. You try to recall, but seconds ago may as well be hours.

"I asked you...*tap* what *tap* you *tap* want."

You stare up at him, and drink in his features. You do your best to ignore the red hot whispers of blood and death as they swirl and circle in from the corners of your mind, no longer silenced by the haze of Envers lash.

His lips have always been your favorite feature of his. Something forbidden to you for fear of destroying his greatest weapon in your teeth. Thin above with a lower lip that creates a meaty little pout whenever hes not scowling or smiling outright.

Your teeth are too sharp for him. Always. A healing spell could fix the damage, but it is his one prevailing fear. The loss of his voice, the use of his talented tongue, his ability to command.

An intolerable sacrifice he would never give freely. But he doesnt offer freely. Not tonight.

You speak before you mean to.

"A kiss."

Envers eyes visibly darken at that, if thats even possible.

"A kiss..." His smirk is one of incredulous surprise. His tone mocking, sardonic. He rolls his eyes, but looks so beyond pleased with this answer that it concerns you. you dont understand why, and you dont dare question him now...not until you have your answer at least.

"Please..." you dont speak this time. It comes out as little more than a rumble in your chest. As soft as it is, you sound positively feral, even by your own judgement. "Just one....gods PLEASE Enver."

Envers eyes have gone wide, his breath following a quicker rhythem than before. He knew he wanted this, despite his fears, he wants it as much as you.

The silence lasts far too long.

"Hold out your sword arm..."

"Env-" your jaw aches from the sting of the crop across it. You try to reign in your grin, to hide the teeth that enver would see...would remember and then deny you your wish. But your scailed lips peel back anyway, and your tongue lolls past them as your claws dig groves in the stone floor.

You lift your arm.

"Palm up...." you obey without question this time. He traces the crop in circles around the center of your palm. "An eye for an eye...as always with you isnt it?"

You draw in a breath that shudders with you.

"A weapon..." his tongue wets the corner of his lower lip. "...for a weapon."

You had never once begged him before. Not. once. Demanded, yes. Sarcastically denied any interest? Of course. Spent hours and hours on his knees in submission? Oh absolutely.

But this....this was better than he could have hoped for. A bhallspawn, the purest flesh of his gods mortal enemy.

Offering his own unholy hand in sacrifice for the kiss of a Tyrant.

Ten blows. Ten beautiful savage, flesh tearing strikes of twisted iron to your palm.

Each one alone is not enough, but by the time he reaches number seven, you can feel the very marrow in your bones beginning to bruise.

The eighth has you roaring at him like the animal he loves to reduce you to.

The nineth is aknowledgeable agony, something so deep even you cannot deny that little pleasure can be had from it. And you wonder if any kiss is worth this until you see the look on his face. Youve finally given him what he wanted. Its better than he could have imagined, hearing not a cry or a scream, but the gutteral roar of his dragonborn pet.

The tenth....gods but the tenth blow takes so long to come. You kneel there, shaking, anxious...eager even, despite the knowledge that the final blow will be far worse than any before.

And it is. Its saring white hot and blinding as the kiss that follows before you even realize youve been hit. You feel his gauntlets cutting under your jaw as he presses his lips to yours. You dont expect anything more than that. Enver has never once allowed even this. Too intimate.

You are both already so dangerously close to blasphemy every time you even look at each other.

But then you feel it, his tongue, gliding in past wicked teeth and coaxing yours to join it. You dare not move your jaw except to open it further at his behest, letting him do as he pleases. You feel it caress and flick freely with the enthusiasm and lack of skill one would expect from someone who doesnt normally allow themselves such indignity, especially as messy as this. You want to bite. Hells you must. Not. Bite. But gods hes got your tongue between those lips and-

And hes gone. You whine at the loss and care little that you must sound disgustingly pitiful. open your eyes to see him standing, smirking above you. His hair sticks to his cheeks and forehead, dripping with sweat same as what of his chest you are privilaged to see through the laces of his shirt. His gauntlets must be sweltering for him.

Indeed you can see moisture dripping from his wrists from under the golden cuffs. Its a wonder he was able to grip the crop so tightly.

He rakes a hand through his hair and slicks it back. Something you only ever see when on your knees...or when you have him on his.

He tosses the crop to the floor, unceremonious and callous as ever.

"Clean yourself up..." and meet him in the boudoir. the silent half of the command is present enough in the strained nature of his exit.

You dare only move when the door closes behind him, leaving you alone in his office.

You groan and collapse, rolling onto your back as a chuckle escapes you. You lift your hand to inspect it.

Your hide is only mildly bruised. The discoloration negligible.

but the damage beneath sings to you, makes your throat thrum in thick, plucking clicks of your vocal chords that resemble a purr.

You give your fingers an experimental flex, and suck in a hiss of air when your palm sends agony all the way up to your elbow.

Every flick of your blade for the next tenday, every sacrifice to Bhaal would be tainted by the taste of Banes chosen. The memory of the reward given for your tribute. Your sacrifice, mild as it is.

A sliver of dread slips into the back of your mind, and yet....you smile.

"Forgive me, Father..."

Worth it. So worth it.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash #durgetash #gortash x durge #the dark urge

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