#(quietly but firmly) I don’t want you to choose your life like that.

[queuestarter]

lapse

(finnick odair x reader)

cw: none

link to the request → finnick and reader get pregnant and have a shotgun wedding

open to finnick requests !!

“Wake up.”

You straddle Finnick’s hips as he sleeps, slapping at his chest to get him to wake up even sooner. He scrunches his nose at the gentle slaps, so you resort to the next best thing.

“Finnick,” you drawl, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him firmly. “Wake the hell up.”

His eyes slowly open, a smile growing on his face when he sees you on top of him. “Well, hello. Good morning to me.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t find it in yourself to get annoyed with him. “I have good news. Do you want to keep being annoying or do you want to hear it?”

Finnick flips you both over so that now he’s laying on top of you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and nuzzles his face into your neck. “I’m up for some good news.”

“Sure seems like it.”

“I am!” He insists. 

“I guess I’ll just say it then. We’re having a baby. I’m pregnant.” A smile immediately breaks out across your face. You haven’t said the words out loud yet, so just acknowledging it is making you ecstatic.

Finnick pulls away from where he was kissing your skin quickly. “What? Are you serious?” His eyes frantically search yours. When you nod, he sits up fully and starts punching the air.

“What are you doing,” you giggle, hand covering your mouth. “What kind of reaction is that?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” He continues to punch the air before launching himself at you. “I did that. That’s my baby in there.” He kisses your lips twice before moving down to your stomach, which is currently covered by one of his shirts. He lifts up the fabric before speaking to your belly. “Hello, baby. It’s me, your daddy. You don’t know it yet, but this is the best moment of my life.”

You bury your face in your hands. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“Let’s get married,” Finnick says suddenly, pulling away from your skin. “Right now.”

You pull your hands away from your eyes and look at your boyfriend. His smile is so bright and his entire being is just radiating warmth. Without much thought, you nod enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do it.”

Finnick’s smile only grows wider, which you didn’t think was possible. “Right now?” 

“Yes!” You insist, getting up off the bed. “Go get dressed.”

You pick out a little white sundress that’s been sitting in the back of your closet for years. You grab some sandals and pull your hair back into a low bun. Finnick chooses a flowy white top and a nice pair of pants.

You two leave your house hand in hand and make your way to the beach. Finnick carries a woven net and you carry a small bowl that will be filled with sea water.

The two of you stand on the shoreline, quietly whispering the words of your district’s wedding song to one another, each verse broken up by small giggles and wandering hands. Finnick drapes the net over your heads and you brush each of your lips with the ocean water.

When the two of you kiss, it’s salty and short, but you decide that it’s the best kiss of your life. There’s no one there to witness you and Finnick’s matrimony, but neither of you care.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” Finnick says, still under the protection of the net. “You’re everything.”

Your eyes well up. “I love you, Finn. You and this baby and this life we’ve built together.”

You two kiss once more before walking home.

-

#finnick odair #finnick request #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick imagine #finnick odair x y/n #finnick x reader #hunger games #thg finnick #lane's writing

[dross-the-fish]

Note: I got my tablet working briefly and was able to finish the lines before it crapped out again. Testing out a potential comic format to go with the drabbles. Don't know if it's going to be a regular thing but I thought I'd see how everyone feels about it. Adam’s Naming

The Creature sat in a chair that was uncomfortably small for him, his knees bent so that they nearly folded into his stomach. He watched anxiously as Watson pulled out his grooming kit and a pair of scissors.

“That mess of hair has to go, I’m amazed you don’t have lice,” the Doctor wrinkled his mustache as he methodically laid out his tools and began to separate the strands of black hair, first with his fingers to break apart the larger tangles without pulling then with a wide toothed comb.

The Creature, unaccustomed to being touched so casually, fought the urge to squirm away, “Parasites seem to find my blood unappetizing, I’ve never had to suffer their infestations on my person. A small mercy, I suppose,” he said.

“Be that as it may, I should hope that now that you are among people, you’ll be diligent with your hygiene,” Watson replied, grimacing as he picked up his scissors and snipped away the first oily lock, watching it pool on the ground in a snaky curl.

“I never anticipated that I would be among people. It is a foreign thing to be concerned with my appearance outside of hiding it from sight.”

“Have you really never had a friend?” Watson asked.

“No, never. The closest thing I had was a mere moment, I spoke once with an old blind man and he treated me kindly before his family drove me away,” the Creature fell silent, drawing up the memory of DeLacy’s smile and the gentle reassurance he’d given him.

“Do not despair. To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate, but the hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are full of brotherly love and charity”

It had been a lie, of course, but in the fleeting instance he had believed it, it had been so very beautiful to hear. Despite himself, the Creature had been unable to completely give up on wishing it could be true.

“What the old man gave me was no more than a crumb, but it was every sliver of hope I ever carried in my life and even now, after 100 years, I hold it in my breast and let it nourish me for want of richer food,” he confided quietly.

The scissors paused and Watson rested his hand on the Creature’s head, “Well, we’ll have to do better than that, won’t we? Seems to me a man ought to live off of more than crumbs. Let’s start by giving you a proper name, shall we?” he suggested kindly.

The Creature froze, his vision blurred and he could feel himself begin to tremble. This was not real, it couldn’t be real, no one who looked upon him and knew what he had done could offer him true kindness, much less give him a name. Victor had made him, had labored for months to bring him into existence and couldn’t bring himself to give him that! It was impossible! He refused to believe this doctor, a stranger to him, could give him that so easily. It was mockery, or a trick. It had to be. With a roar he shot out of the chair, sending it toppling, and turned to face Watson, incensed further when the old man didn’t flinch.

“Call me demon! Call me monster, or devil, or abomination! You know well that I have worn them all and each title has been fitting,” he hissed, lowering his head so that he was an inch from Watson’s face and the doctor would have no choice but to truly look at him. At his ravaged cheeks and the chunk of skin missing from the end of his nose. His torn, black lips distorted into a hideous snarl as he attempted to goad the doctor into screaming or attacking. I’ll kill you, he thought, show me you’re just like everyone else and I’ll kill you…

“Stop that this instant!” Watson snapped firmly as he righted the toppled chair, “Such carrying on, really. If you’re a monster or a devil now it’s because you choose to be. I’ll not entertain such utter nonsense. Now, you have a choice, you can sit in this chair, let me cut your hair and we’ll pick out a name for you or you can leave. I don’t care where you go but I have no patience for tantrums. If you want to stay with us you had better get a lid on that temper this very minute!” he tapped the back of the chair expectantly, never once breaking the Frankenstein monster’s gaze.

The Creature deflated, caught off guard and chastened like a child scolded by a stern parent. He sank back into the chair and folded his hands in his lap, the very picture of contrition. Watson softened and resumed his cutting.

“As I recall,” he said as he settled into a rhythm, the quiet snip of the scissors soothing his nerves, “You said to Victor that you ought to have been his Adam. Adam is a fine name; a good, strong, name and I think it suits you. How would like to be called Adam?”

Silence. A shuddering gasp, then in a small trembling voice, “I would like that very much…”

Watson leaned forward and gave Adam’s cheek a pat, not flinching at the exposed muscle under the ridge of his cheekbone but moved to pity by the wetness trickling down it, "Whatever you were, whatever you've done, put it behind you now. This is your new start, your second chance. Don't squander it, Adam."

#Frankenstein #Adam Frankenstein #John Waston #sherlock holmes #My writing #Crossover Au

[vivalarevolution]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷

Robb Stark x Targaryen Reader

Request: „Hi! Hope you're having a great day, if you don't mind, please could you write a robb stark x reader?‟

„can you do just a fluffy oneshot with robb where reader thought he was dead (they were betrothed and in love so reader was like still in mourning even tho it's been months since he died) and turns out he survived the Red Wedding along with Grey Wind and they just have this super fluffy and teary reunion and later that day reader just wanted to cuddle robb and never let go hope that makes sense!‟

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for Robb Stark. I put two requests together in this story from anons I hope you as well as them gonna like it. 

English is not my native language so I am sorry for any mistakes.

*Thoughts, memories, and other languages are written in bold italics.

He was standing in front of her. Safe and sound, and above all... alive.

She looked at him with a shadow of tears in her violet eyes. Her hands, cold and trembling, held his neck like a lifeline, helping her not to drown in the ocean of bitterness and despair. The man held her near him, wanting to have her as close as possible, never wanting to let go, his hands gripping the material of the white-haired woman coat. In a silent act, conveying the care he wanted to soothe the heart of the dragon princess.

But nothing was able to help her.

-I beg you- she whispered on the verge of hysteria -I beg you, Robb, don't agree to Lord Frey's proposal. I can not loose you.

-You will not loose me. I am yours and you are mine, now, until the end of our days -he replied kissing her forehead lovingly.

-I don't want the end of your days to end tomorrow night, I won't let it happen - the woman said firmly- The people of Westeros are manipulative, wherever they go, they look for a chance. To use, to take and...

-I am the king of the north, but I am also a man of honor - Stark tried to explain to her, running his large hands over her soft skin.

-My father was a king - the young Targaryen drawled through her teeth - He saw people as traitors, unconsciously creating them himself. He paid for it with life, not only his but also his children. Don't make the same mistake.

-I will attend this wedding - said the brunette, sticking to his sentence - You should go there with me, as the future queen of the north - he added, more quietly, even though the two lovers were alone anyway.

-In the morning, me and Jaelarys return to Essos - she announced to Robb's surprise. -Dany want to discuss further expanding our alliances in here. I can't keep her waiting.

-So you're leaving me?- the northman asked, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

-I haven't seen my sister in over six months -Y/n said, offended -I want to see if she's safe, I have to. She may need me.

-I need you - replied her lover.

-Now you're the king of the north - the violet-eyed whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth -Maybe when I come back, you'll be the king of all seven kingdoms -she added, connecting their foreheads.

She said this words trying to hide her anger, preferring to leave rather than listen, not knowing at the time that that conversation was their last.

Or so she thought.

-Gaomagon ao gīmigon bisa vala,mandia? (Do you know this man, sister?) Daenerys asked, waking the princess from her thoughts.

-Kessa (Yes) - she managed to say - Īles se Dārys hen Jelmor (He was the king of the north) - she added more quietly.

-Oh- only came out of Taragryen's mouth- I thought Robb Stark...died -she admitted surprised, trying to choose her words carefully in front of her already emotionally sensitive sister.

Y/n thought so too. Her grief and sadness knew no bounds since they had been awakened by the news of the death of Young Wolf, her beloved Robb.

-I'd like to talk to the king in private - the silver-haired woman confessed after a while, feeling her last particles of stability starts slipping between her fingers.

-Of course- queen of Dragonstone replied, sounding soothing and warm, wanting to reassure her sister from a distance.

The violet-eyed princess left the throne room without hesitation and, to the surprise of the oldest of the Starks, did not even looked at him. Her footsteps were quick and hard, each one bouncing off the stone walls of the castle.

She didn't have to turn around. She knew the man was following her, even if he didn't know where she was leading him.

When she was sure that no one would interrupt their conversation, only then did her footsteps stop.

As she turned around, Robb was able to take a close look at the changes that had taken place during their separation. Once full of joy and feisty face changed to a colder, almost indifferent expression. The eyes were more faded, deep down drowning in the sadness that Y/n had experienced.

Looking at her ,broke his heart and filled him with anger at the same time. It was because of him that the young woman found herself in this position, because he didn't listen, because he didn't came earlier but four years later, when instead of the stubborn girl for whom he was so crazy, he found her shadow.

Stark's first instinct was to embrace her fragile form, so he did exactly that. Taking her body to himself, he covered it with thick, black fur and wrapped his arms around it.

Y/n felt as if for the first time in a very long time she could breathe fully, as if her lungs were finally filled with the air necessary to survive. Her hands disappeared into the brunette's coat, holding on tightly, not wanting to let go.

-I should have listened - the northman said after a while -I should have been wiser...

-Robb, don't - the young Targaryen interrupted him, placing one of her hands on his chest, then lifting her head and staring into his blue irises -We can't change the past. What happened… I really thought I lost you - she confessed, the first tears in her eyes.

-They killed everyone...my mother begged them to spare me but in response they slit her throat and stuck a dagger in me- he replied bitterly, clenching his hands on Daenerys sister's waist -I thought it was my end. But Greywind found my body, dragged me to some hut. The old lady must have been terrified when she saw me, but she helped me anyway.

-It wouldn't be wise to ignore the king of the north and his direwolf -Y/n stated, and Stark smiled at the hint of sarcasm in her mouth that he loved so much -She saved you and I'm glad she did, especially when...- halfway through, she frowned ,putting on a serious face, it was obvious that she wanted to confess something.

-Princess - one of the maidservants suddenly interjected -Rhaella woke up from her nap, she's fussy. I believe she's calling for her mother.

Y/n left her former lover's arms at the words about her child. Smiling gently at the Dothraki woman, she nodded her head in understanding.

Watching as she leaves in the only direction she knew, the violet-eyed woman looked at the man out of the corner of her eye.

-Robb, I know a lot has been dumped on your shoulders, but I think you should meet someone - she announced quietly -It's important.

Northman at first thought he had misheard. 

That it wasn't about Y/n. Then the thought of a new dragon crept into his mind, but when he stood in the doorway of the chambers, he knew exactly who Rhaella was.

The young Targaryen with natural delicacy lifted the toddler up, cradling her in her arms, thus soothing her. The girl was a copy of her mother, inheriting every trait of the dragon bloodline.

Walking slowly towards the brunet, she involuntarily clenched her hands on the child harder, not knowing how he would react.

-Is she mine?- whispered the blue-eyed man, gliding his hand over the girl's ruddy cheek.

-Yes - the princess replied simply.

Y/n woke up in the middle of the night. Half of her bed was empty, causing her to awakening instantly. Where was Robb? Was it another nightmare, or was she slowly starting to lose her mind?

Her eyes quickly scanned the room. They finally found a man who held her heart in an iron grip.

Targaryen rose carefully from the bed, approaching him quietly. The king from the north greeted her, wrapping his arm around her body so she could shamelessly take his warmth for herself.

-Why aren't you sleeping?- she asked softly, kissing his jaw.

-I couldn't sleep - he replied, staring at the sea outside the window.

-Are you sure it's just sleep problems?- the princess asked, seeing the change in Stark after seeing his daughter.

-I...- he began, but couldn't finish, grabbing the stone balustrade, squeezing his hand around it -I can't stop thinking what would have happened if you hadn't flown away that morning and stayed with me. If you had participated in this carnage - he whispered, looking at Rhaella sleeping, unaware of anything.

-You didn't know, nobody knew that I was with child - the young woman admitted - The news of your death resulted in too much stress, my body couldn't stand it. Then I found out I was pregnant. You couldn't have known Robb - she assured, stroking his back.

-How can you be so calm, so forgiving? - he asked confused, looking at her like a lost child rather than a king.

-Because I can't stay stuck in the past any longer. I can't think what if. This world won't let me, I have to push forward not only for myself, but for people who need me Robb, you should do the same - Y/n stated, after a moment she kissed his lips lovingly.

-I love you my queen - he murmured, cupping her face in his hands.

-And I love you my king - replied Daenerys' sister, closing her eyes -Now and forever.

-Now and forever - Stark repeated, connecting their foreheads.

The impending war was at their feet, but tonight, at this moment, only their feelings and sensations mattered. Their touches of hands and brushes of lips. Their song of ice and fire. The Wolf and the Dragon.

#robb stark x reader #robb stark #got #game of thrones #asoiaf #house targaryen #house stark #fanfiction #targrayen reader #game of thrones x reader #daenerys targaryen #robb stark x targaryen reader #female reader #game of thrones fanfiction #robb star x oc #robb stark au #game of thrones imagine

[arofili]

Elladan + Elrohir, #21 break or be broken, winter

You can spin it however you like but I'm obsessed with the 'chose who lives/dies' trope being somehow spun with this prompt.

The one and only thing I can't cope with, with these characters, is when they choose different fates , one Human and one Elf. I hate that so much. Otherwise anything goes.

(AO3 is Elladan_E)

“Break or be broken?” snarled the wraith in its foul tongue.

Elladan cast aside his sword, not watching as it skittered across the ground and off into the chasm below. His gaze was fixed on his foe, and his brother in the spirit’s grasp.

“Break me,” he declared. “I will never harm him.”

The Nazgûl laughed, a wretched, breathless sound. Casually as one might toss aside the husk of nut, it flung Elrohir aside. Elladan tensed at the dull impact his brother made as he hit the ground, but he dared not look away from the wraith.

He thought he heard Elrohir whimper. That had to be enough. It had to be. If Elrohir had died...

“He lives,” the Nazgûl growled. “For now. But you, half-breed, shall live no longer.”

Elladan stood firm as the spirit approached. He had no more weapons; his bow was broken, his arrows spent, his sword swallowed by the depths of the wicked forest below. He held his head high as the Nazgûl lifted its scythe, ready to bring it down and sever life from limb—

El! No! El!

He flinched. Damn him, he flinched. How could he remain still and stoic when his twin’s voice rang panicked in his mind?

Don’t—El, please—

I will see you again, Elladan promised, bracing himself for the inevitable blow. They’d talked about their Choices, but hadn’t made them; it never seemed pressing. But now, with the end so near...

Well. So long as they made the same Choice, they’d never be alone.

And if Arwen Chose mortality...

Elladan! Elrohir screamed in his mind.

See you in Valinor, Elladan said, then shoved his brother out of his mind.

The scythe lowered. Elladan closed his eyes.

A great blow knocked the wind out of him, and he heard the Nazgûl scream—but it was too late. Elladan crumpled to the ground, and everything went dark.

~~~

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” Elrohir sobbed, clinging to him so tight Elladan thought he might stop breathing (again).

He was awake—he was alive. He was home, in Imladris, and his father was watching him with an exhausted smile. Arwen stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders, sorrow in her eyes.

“El,” he croaked. “I’m...what happened?”

“Grandfather Celeborn saved you,” Arwen murmured. “And Grandmama and King Thranduil drove the Nazgûl away. You’ve been asleep for...weeks. But you’re awake now. It’s going to be okay.”

“Your fëa is strong,” his father said quietly. “It...you healed faster than I anticipated. It is as if...”

Elladan swallowed. “I—I think...”

Arwen nodded sadly. “I thought so.”

Elrond wiped away a tear. “I cannot say I am not relieved,” he admitted. “But with our Choice comes sorrow, no matter the decision.”

“I just...I thought I was dying,” Elladan murmured. “And I knew...you would sail eventually, Ada, and Naneth already has, and...and...” He looked helplessly at Elrohir. “I wanted to see you again. All of you. But...El, I’m sorry. We always said we would Choose together...”

“We did,” Elrohir croaked, his face half-buried in Elladan’s shoulder. “I Chose, too, the moment you did. You’d have known if you hadn’t shoved me out of our twin-bond—”

“I didn’t want you to feel me die—!”

“And you think I wanted you to die for me?” Elrohir cried.

“None of us is dead,” Ada said firmly. He very purposefully did not look up at Arwen. “We are all together still. And we will be for a very long while yet. The Quest succeeded! As soon as you are well, Elladan, we will travel to Minas Tirith, and Arwen...”

“My Choice was made years ago,” Arwen said softly. “But soon I shall begin to live it.” She walked over to Elladan’s bedside and kissed both her brothers on the brow. “El. And El. I love you. I suspected you would Choose this way...it is good that Naneth will see her boys again, even if she and I are forever sundered.”

“Arwen,” Elrohir whispered.

“We love you too,” Elladan echoed, and meant it fully. “And no matter our Choices, we will always be family.”

#lotr #lord of the rings #lotr fic #elladan #elrohir #khamul #(thats who the nazgul is; this is set at the battle under trees) #battle under trees #arwen #elrond #choice of the peredhil #my writing #my fic #tefain nin #prompts #anonymous #elladan e #this was SUCH a great prompt anon!! ty!!

[nightcolorz]

18 >:)

HEHHEHEH THANK U SM FOR SENDING THE PROMPT KATE ILY, SORRY I TOOK SO LONG!! This ask is following an ask game where u can send me prompts from here: https://www.tumblr.com/nightcolorz/735473060637016064/drabble-challenge-1-150?source=share and I’ll write a Drabble!!

this Drabble is about Louis and Lestat book verse some time around the pl era.

18- Get over it.

The following silence was thick, in that old cliched way. Those eyes were dark, pupils pointed, looking into me. I’d never felt he’d looked at me so intently, like he actually saw me. And he was furious. “Excuse you?” I spluttered, like a plain idiot. It didn’t bear repeating, of course I had heard him. I felt that if I heard him say those things again I’d simply die. “Get over it.” He summarized his earlier statement. “Get over it soon, or I assure you, you’ll find me as lost to you now as I was then.”

I was thankful that I didn’t laugh. “Get over it? Louis.” It was condescending of me to explain. “My darling boy, my precious Angel. Be serious. You watched me be killed and did nothing. You even helped the killer discard of my corpse! Forgive me if I have a lingering bitterness. I should be the one forgiving you! Actually, I have, remarkably, given you an infinite amount of grace. Is that not enough for you, my love?”

He said nothing, only glared at me with a coldness so severe I felt a chill go up my spine. After a beat he spoke, quietly, with a commanding force behind his voice strong enough to take me back. “The killer…” he echoed. “Don’t you mean Claudia? Our daughter? The little girl you ripped from her mother’s arms and forced into a life of damnation, tormented an innocent to our hell, then caged so utterly to you that her only mode of escape was to murder? That “killer”, you speak of? That killer who would have never killed if you had not raised her too! Against my will? And you dare be surprised that I tell you to get over it. You dare resent me when I could not save you from the consequences of what you had done. You blame me? You wonder why I chose that innocent over the devil who’d stolen her soul? You should be thankful for how I have chosen to be with you now, after it all. Is that not enough for you, my love?”

I was stunned. I knew somehow, deep down in my ignorant soul, that he was right in his reasoning, right to tell me what was what, as I was being rather petty and cruel with my blatant passive aggression concerning things so firmly in the past. I’d been taunting him, needlessly, implying his inadequacy for allowing my murder all those years ago. And he had fought back, so fiercely eloquent. This is what I thought on, how far away all this business was, and how removed the man in front of me was from the boy who had stood helpless and cried, as if capable of nothing else, while I begged for him, bleeding out on the floor. I expressed this. “You’ve changed.” And as the words left me I realized that they were not what he wanted to hear. 

“Haven’t I?” He affirmed. “Are you surprised that I don’t sit silently any longer and take your abuse?” I shrugged. “A little.” I said. “I don’t know why I am so awful, to you and in general. It’s like there’s something within me that compels me to be cruel and spiteful when all I really want is to be with you and to love you and for all of it to be forgotten and alright.” 

We locked eyes for a moment, simply and honestly, without fury. “I just want you Louis. I don’t care about the past, I don’t know why I choose to be angry. I am just, you’re right, a devil.” Louis frowned patiently. “No.” He said, to my surprise. “I don’t know that you are. We are only…we are both half stuck in that draw of the past, and we must free ourselves, because we are different now.” I was enamored with his words, their unusual optimism, and the apparent love he felt for me. It was so precious that this was how it was now. I almost wondered I was still bleeding out on that floor, and that this was some fantasy I’d conceived as my spirit fired off its last sparks within my preternatural body. If only I could stop disturbing this bliss with my inherent awfulness.

“You are not that devil who took Claudia’s life any longer.” Louis continued. “That creature would’ve yelled or stormed out and hit one thing or another at my words. No.” He almost smiled. “You’re something altogether gentler and easier to love.” I wanted to weep. “And you are” I began “You’re not my fledgling any longer, if you’d ever been so at all. You’re the vampire I could never be. And I’m honored to be permitted to stand by your side.”  He fully smiled now. “And I’m sorry…” I tasted the word on my tongue, sorry. “I’m sorry for how it used to be. For Claudia, for everything. I want it to be better.”

“Lestat?” He asked after a bit of contemplative silence. “Yes, my Louis?” My response was immediate. “Could you pass me that please.” He requested, gesturing to a lighter sat unassuming and domestically on a nearby table. “Of course.” And so I passed it to him, and he took it, only to ignite a candle that he used to light the words on the pages of his very worn addition of John Keats. I watched the flame flickering safely by his side, saw those green eyes reflected as I have many times, within the flame, and I wondered if creatures such as ourself were truly ever capable of change—or if rather we got very close before we inevitably repeated the same cycles in unending loops for all of time. “I’d be content to watch this fire burn forever.” I thought rather insanely, before I went towards him and took my place in the red velvet arm chair by his side. 

#tvc #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #vc #Loustat #loustat #louis de pointe du lac #louis dpdl #lestat de lioncourt #lestat #iwtv #interview with the vampire #my writing

[blossom-hwa]

Hello! Happy 5 year anniversary on here :)

Could I request a Kang Taehyun for the drabble game with the prompt of royal au with arranged marriage? If that technically counts as two prompts u can ignore the last one ^^

I hope you are healthy and safe! Thank you for all that you've written on here ♡♡

hi love! thank you for the request and your well wishes, I hope you enjoy this!

5 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/TXT/Golden Child/Ateez/The Boyz member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!!

(read the sequel drabble, A Broken Contract, here!)

REQUESTS OPEN!!

~

Title: A Contract Deal

Pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of death

~

“Your Highness.”

Truth be told, Taehyun almost doesn’t recognize the voice when it comes. He’s rarely heard you speak - only the requisite greetings to his parents, a few whispered conversations with your family, a couple of words exchanged with your servants. Only twice have you spoken with him, each time never more than a few sentences, at that. 

But then he turns around, and he remembers. Right. Yes. That vaguely familiar voice belongs to you, his betrothed. 

Not exactly the person he wants to see most right now. 

But Taehyun was raised with manners, and like it as not, it’s not your fault the two of you ended up in this situation. You’re only pieces on the chessboard of the grand game of politics, your marriage arranged by the players, your parents. He turns fully to give you his attention, schooling his features back into a neutral smile. 

You don’t smile back. 

“Your Highness,” he replies, inclining his head. “Was there something you wished to tell me?”

For one moment, two, you only look at him steadily. Something dark and anxious flits across your gaze, and Taehyun wonders just what it is you need him for that you couldn’t hide your worry about it behind your usual cool, placid mask. 

Finally, you press your lips together firmly, still looking at him head on. “Is there someplace private where we could speak?” you ask. “I have some things I would like to ask you.”

. . . . .

Once in the empty gardens, after the two of you have asked your guards to step away, Taehyun gives you his full attention. “What is it you wanted to ask?”

Your fingers twist tightly into each other, though your expression has regained its usual mask-like pleasance. You are quite beautiful, Taehyun thinks. The moonlight shining down on your figure sets a subtle glow on your face, one that he thinks he could’ve found quite attractive if you weren’t in the situation you are now. 

His stomach twists. If only.

“I heard you speaking to His and Her Majesty earlier,” you say quietly. “I understand you don’t wish to marry me.”

Taehyun blinks. When would you have heard -

Oh. 

If he weren’t so well-versed in maintaining a straight face, Taehyun thinks he would have cursed. Just his luck that you somehow heard the argument he had with his parents this morning, the one where he told them on no account would he marry the royal of their choosing because he was done with them trying to control every moment of his life. He doesn’t regret the statement - he still means it - but despite himself and all his training in manners, Taehyun colors in embarrassment. He hadn’t thought anyone other than his mother and father would have heard that conversation. 

“I don’t blame you,” you add quickly. “It’s not as if anyone wouldn’t have qualms about marrying a complete stranger.”

Taehyun’s face still feels hot even after your assurance. “What does that have to do with the matter at hand?”

You take a deep breath. Your tightly twisted hands hover for a moment before dropping to your sides. “I’ve come to ask that you put a hold on whatever plans you have for stopping this marriage.”

It takes a minute for him to understand your request. You just said you didn’t blame him for not wanting to marry you, but - “You want to go through with this marriage,” Taehyun says, still half in disbelief. 

“Yes.” A shadow passes over your face. “Please, hear my reasons first.”

In silence, Taehyun listens to your story. Parents who always regarded you from a stony distance, who saw you as just a possible replacement should anything happen to your older sister, the first in line for the throne. An older sister who hated you for seemingly no reason, or at least none that you could identify. Assassination attempts that started when you were thirteen, poisoned wine and hidden knives and people finding their way in through your window at night -

The realization that it was your sister who was behind the attempts, for reasons you still don't understand. 

“I don’t know why she’s doing it,” you say quietly. “Our sages have already proclaimed that the stars shone on her birth and that she would certainly be the next ruler of our land. It’s not as if I pose any sort of threat to her throne - it’s hers, I’ve known that all my life. I don’t care.” Swallowing hard, you look him in the eye. “But I - enough people have died or been injured trying to save me, and I myself will most certainly die if I stay there. I need a way out.”

And you are my way out. 

You don’t say the words out loud, but Taehyun knows that’s what you mean. Suddenly, he feels a little dizzy. How can he be a lifeline for someone who doesn’t even know him?

“You can divorce me after a year,” you say. “After that I’ll just - disappear. Hide. My reputation doesn’t matter if I’m going to run, you can make up whatever excuse you want. But my sister doesn’t know this kingdom, and I need time to make a plan. All I ask, Your Highness, is that we remain together long enough for me to make that plan. I will not ask for more than a year.”

Taehyun takes a deep breath. “How can you be sure she won’t target you here?”

“I can’t,” you reply immediately. “But during the entire month-long trip here and in the two weeks that I have been at the palace, I have not been targeted once.” You swallow. “I would like to take this as a good sign.”

Mind reeling, Taehyun tries to think. Right now, you see him as some sort of lifeline from which to hang, just out of reach of your sister’s jaws. You say that you will leave, you just need time - but he didn't want the mess of marriage in the first place, and now he will have to combine that with the mess of divorce -

But he also can’t just leave you to die. 

“I understand I’ve asked a lot of you,” you say quietly, cutting into his thoughts. “It’s all right if you say no.”

Ironically, that’s what settles the matter in Taehyun’s mind. 

“I’ll do it,” he says. Your head snaps up, eyes wide, but he isn’t finished. “On the condition that you will disappear within one year of our wedding date.”

“Of course,” you breathe. “Of course. I -” You swallow, and suddenly your eyes look shiny. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Taehyun smiles uncomfortably as you bow your head. “You’re welcome,” he replies, trying not to listen to the voice in his head that’s telling him all of this will eventually go very, very wrong. 

#txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #txt taehyun #taehyun #kang taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #taehyun oneshots #taehyun fanfic #txt fanfic #txt oneshots #txt taehyun x reader #txt x reader #kang taehyun x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #angst #drabble #arranged marriage!au #royalty!au #cw death #a contract deal #5 year anniversary drabble game #lina answers #fightmegirl #blossom-hwa

[imapuppy5000]

Mary’s return part 2

Immediate and aggressive. How fun.

Rosa belongs to @mirconreadzztuff22

Sage belongs to @theacedragon0w0

Hazel belongs to @puffymucher

And Velvette is a character in Hazbin Hotel

Previous:

——————————————————-

Vlk shifted a bit at the quiet before Sage peeped up quietly, “Your um.. your ex?”

She nodded excitedly and nudged Mary forward. She didn’t talk much about her life but the group knew a little about Mary. Mainly the bad things. They had killed a child. They had no morals. And when arguments got heated they always resorted to violence. So needless to say seeing Vlk just radiating joy, her tail wagging furiously over this… at very least a terrible person, came as a shock.

Mary assumed the quiet was from awkwardness, they were never too good at social cues, and came forward. Hazel was the closet. She thrust her hand forward and shook Hazel’s firmly. “Mary Wright. All pronouns. Nice to meet you.”

Hazel was a bit shocked at the boldness but nodded regardless. “Names Hazel. Heard a bit about ya.”

“All good things I know.” Mary winked, casting a look back at Vlk whose smile faltered slightly. Mary frowned at the look but quickly fixed her face and went down the line, Velvette, Sage (she/them, Mary learned and was quite excited about), and Rosalina (who was a giant. Obviously Vickey’s taste.). “So.” The sinner stepped back and rocked on their heels a moment, “I am under the assumption you’ve all been great friends and partners to Vickey, and I’d like to continue and form a friendship with you but as the original I’m taking her back.”

Vlk froze a bit, mouth agape and tail tucking. Her mind stopped, she couldn’t process anything and the sudden noise in the room didn’t help at all.

Rosalina laughed at first, but when she realized this puny little runt was actually serious her blood boiled. “Who do you think you are?” She snarled as Sage wailed out, “She doesn’t belong to you! She’s been doing great without you.” Velvette, too, was furious with a shrieking, “You can’t take her. She’s ours! Fvck off, c*nt!” Hazel’s words were drowned out by her immediate and aggressive snarling.

Mary rocked a second more, watching the scene unfold with her hands behind her back. She gave Rosa in particular a little smirk and strode over to Vickey, which had Hazel on her paws and pacing forward. Mary grinned wider and came to a military stop by Vlk, turning around just as abruptly and using her lover as a shield between herself and Hazel.

“Hey hey.” Mary cooed, “Why all the aggression?”

“Ya can’t have ‘er. Come here coward.” Hazel snapped.

The others echoed the chorus and came up beside Hazel, all but Sage towering over Mary and Vlk.

“Why don’t we let her choose?” Mary’s hand on Vlk’s back brought her back to the present.

“Wha?” The fox whispered, looking between all her partners.

“Them or me?” Mary insisted, hand tightening just slightly over Vickey’s new scar.

Vlk’s eyes watered. “Can’t I have both? I just got you back, I can’t lose you again. But I love them all with my entire heart and I can’t lose them either.”

“Choose.” Mary snarled, face tightening into a familiar and terrifying expression.

Vlk hesitated further and was pulled closer to Mary, the demon shoved a sharp fingered hand into Vlk’s chest, where a scarred ‘b’ lay hidden beneath fur. “I OWN YOU!” Mary screamed.

Almost immediately the rest of the polycule was on them, pulling Mary away. Sage, as much as they wanted to help beat in the stupid demon’s face, rushed towards their girlfriend who was bent over, hand clutching her chest and sobbing.

Sage put a hand on her shoulder but Vlk flinched away, backtracking to years before. Not even an hour and she was terrified again.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay.” Sage whispered.

“Don’t hurt her.” Vlk begged quietly, “You can’t let them kill her, please, she means a lot to me.”

Sage bristled at the words, all too familiar. Even still she turned around, “Stop.” She yelled over the commotion of curses and screams.

Rosa paused, dangling Mary in the air by their shirt, choking them inadvertently.

“Don’t kill her.” Vlk repeated desperately when the eyes had turned to her. “Please.. please..” she fell to her knees and the polycule looked at eachother for a minute before Rosalina threw Mary down and they rushed to help Sage comfort Vlk.

Mary gasped for air as soon as she could breath, bruised, bloodied, and a little broken, but seething with rage. “Vickey.” She rasped angrily, “Come here. We’re going home.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you!” Sage snapped. “You’re lucky we’re letting you live, you better get out of here and never come back.”

Mary sneered slightly, forcing herself to stand on a broken ankle and limping towards the group. Hazel bristled and snapped her fangs at Mary.

“Vickey.” Mary started but was interrupted by a firm, “Her name is Vlk.” From Rosa, who put a hand out to stop Mary from getting any closer.

“Vlk.” Mary corrected between clenched fangs. “Look at me.”

The fox did as she was told.

“Breathe. It’s okay.”

A shuddering breath followed by a whine of confusion.

“You know the drill. Count down from ten, deep breaths.”

The polycule didn’t understand the sudden mood shift but it put them on edge. Regardless Mary was talking Vlk through her anxiety.

“Better?” Mary asked after a few minutes, hands clenching every time one of the polycule touched Vlk, rubbing her head, shoulder, or back, in a futile attempt to comfort her. Vlk hated touch. These so-called partners didn’t even know that simple fact?

Vlk nodded slightly and Mary smiled at her. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a few more days to decide. Meet me at that coffee place on the corner. And keep your little pack home.” She waved her fingers in disgust and disinterest before turning around and struggling back to the elevator.

The group watched her leave and Vlk slouched uselessly against Sage, tail wrapped around herself as a means of comfort. “They can’t make me choose. I love all of you so much..”

“They literally just tried to force you away!” Velvette yelped, angered.

Rosa held out a hand to quiet the group and turned to Vlk, gently cupping the fox’s face in her hands. “We’ll figure it out together. I promise.”

Vlk nodded quietly and leaned her face against a palm, relaxing slightly at the touch from her partners.

#hazbin hotel #oc #short story #vlk #writers on tumblr #hellhound #writing #fluff #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette

[kanerallels]

For the three sentence (or paragraph) fic challenge: Kanera but the AU is Hera was the jedi, not Kanan.

This, uh. This got longer than I expected, so it's going under a cut!

He’d thought the Jedi were gone, all killed when he was a teenager. He’d seen the wanted posters for the survivors, the warnings that they couldn’t be trusted, the propaganda— not that he’d ever really believed it.

And he’d watched them all dwindle, until there was no one left. It was just the Empire, ruling over them all.

But then, Kanan had come to Gorse. And he’d met the most incredible woman in the galaxy— beautiful, smart, an amazing pilot, and brave.

Finding out that Hera Syndulla was a Jedi wasn’t really a shock. He was certainly surprised, but it made so much more sense— the way she’d managed to pull off some of the tricks, flying and otherwise, that she had. The way she’d stared at him when he’d offered to help her, like she could see through him, before accepting his help. The fact that she was still traveling alone.

Even now, after dropping off  Zaluna, she was getting ready to politely but firmly send him on his way. He could tell. Kanan still couldn’t tell why exactly she’d let him help in the first place, but he knew she was usually a solo act in her fight.

As they made it to the hangar where her ship was waiting behind closed doors, Hera turned to him, her expression more hesitant than he’d expected.

“Wait,” he blurted out, and she lifted a curious eyebrow at him.

Kanan could have said anything. He could have told her that, ever since he first met her in that alleyway, he’d known he would never meet someone who called to him like she did. He could say that when she’d saved his life on the Star Destroyer, she’d practically glowed. She’d looked at home in the pilot’s seat, and using the Force, she looked like she had a purpose.

He could have told her that, when he was very young, his parents had died, killed by the Black Sun when they tried to fight back against them. He and his younger sister had changed their names and fled, living in fear for years. The Black Sun had never come after them, but it had been a long time before they’d felt at ease again.

He could have told her that the Jedi had saved his planet as a kid, or that he’d never liked the Empire, especially once his sister Devorah had enlisted when she turned 18, or that he’d never been one for a cause until now.

But all he found himself saying was, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Hera’s eyes widened in surprise for just a moment before she frowned. “And what makes you think I need help?” she asked, but Kanan could tell she was mostly teasing, with a hint of curiosity.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re incredibly good at what you do,” Kanan told her, deciding honesty was the best policy. “I almost believe you could do it all on your own. But that’s the thing— none of us can. We all need someone to watch our backs and take care of us. To help pick us back up.”

“And you want to be that someone?” Hera asked. “You know, it’s not exactly a sought after position. Not with— with who I am.”

He didn’t miss the slight hitch in her voice, the loneliness. Kanan understood it. “I do. For you, at least. And I’m willing to take the risk if you’re willing to have me around for a little while longer.”

Hera nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. Kanan could tell she was considering it, but not what she would choose. “It won’t be safe,” she said quietly. “I’m not safe to be around, not really.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Kanan said, “Considering the last few days, do you really think safety is my biggest priority?” Not my own, anyways.

That made her laugh, which had been his goal. “Okay,” she agreed. “But if things go wrong, I have the right to throw you out.”

“Absolutely. It’s your ship, after all, Captain.” But Kanan had a feeling things wouldn’t go wrong. He had a feeling he would stay with Hera for as long as he possibly could.

Call it a good guess, or fate, or maybe even the Force. Who knew? All Kanan was really sure of was that he wasn’t planning to leave Hera. Not if he could help it.

#thanks for the ask!! #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #jedi!hera #kanera #kanera is love kanera is life #the thing is i cannot imagine anyone but hera being the pilot #so we have hera the incredible jedi pilot #and then we have kanan. who is just some guy. but he wants to take care of hera if he can #and he's also a gunslinger and amazing at making waffles and adopting kids #star wars rebels #swr #writing stories is a kind of magic too

[titansandothers]

Story Snippet (Mad Mod and Terra)

(Part of a sequel story to something I haven’t even finished. For context: Mad Mod, through a strange series of events, technically adopted Tara, hoping to only do so temporarily until her new identity and life are sorted.) --- Mad Mod glowered down at the teen, arms tightly crossed across his chest. He took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled it in a long rumbling growl, lip curled into a deep sneer. Tara looked up at her guardian, brow quirked as she acted oblivious. "What did you call me in for?" "I'd tell you not to play dumb, but it seems you may genuinely be an idiot." The blonde's eyes widened a moment, before narrowing into a glare. "Excuse you?!" she retorted. "Excuse me?!" Mod recoiled before bending down to glare at her at her own eye level. "You stole from me!" There was a brief moment of panicked realization in her eyes before they narrowed again. "Whatever you think I stole, I didn't! You must have lost it!" She was lying through her teeth. "My late wife's golden emerald necklace? The first expensive gift I ever gave 'er? Oh, I take that out and move it around all the time! It's not like it's important to me and I keep it stored away for a reason! No!" If the concept wasn't ridiculous enough, he had video evidence of what she did. Tara shrunk down a great deal at his words, anger fizzling more into anxiety. Shit. She didn’t know it held sentimental value. The man was so rich, he could afford to replace anything with monetary value. Still, she wasn’t going to accept guilt. She could still get out of this and everything would be fine. “You… had a wife?” she asked quietly, genuinely curious and hoping to change the subject. If she could calm him down long enough to get out of the house, she could get his necklace back, hide it somewhere he could have plausibly lost or dropped it, and be off the hook! “Don’t change the subject,” he sneered. “N-no! I really want to know! You told me you had a life before your villainy, but you never really told me what. I was just… curious.” she spoke quietly, looking away. Mod’s eyes narrowed, looking down his nose at her. “Have you considered I never told you because I wasn’t comfortable enough with you yet?” ‘Yet,’ Tara noticed this word. Would he one day be comfortable enough to tell her? “You’re not learning anything now,” he huffed. “You’ve done a great deal on obliterating any trust I ‘ad in you.” It would seem not. Ouch. That really stung. The blonde was apparently close to having a proper bond with this man and she had just ruined it? This felt all too familiar... “So… I ruined another friendship?” she asked Mod, a weak smile on her lips as the tears formed in her eyes. There was a fleeting moment of worry when the Brit noticed her tears, but he was quickly back to his senses. “You are not the victim here,” he stated firmly. “You are facing the consequences of your own actions. You’ve already destroyed a city without punishment, but I will not allow you to escape any future repercussions.” So… he wasn’t going to let up... Well, since their relationship was already down the drain, she had no reason to appeal to him. If she was going to be miserable, she’d drag him right down with her. “And you aren’t doing the same thing?!” she barked, angry tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re a villain! By choice! You’re choosing to stay a villain! You joined the Brotherhood of Evil!” “I didn’t have a choice!” Mod roared back in her face. Tara stood her ground and argued, “There’s always a choice!” “Oh! You’re right!” he laughed, but with no humor. “I’d almost forgotten! I really shouldn’t ‘ave made such a bad decision! I should ‘ave just told the Brotherhood ‘no’; allow them to go through with their threats of revealing your identity and ‘istory to all, to make sure your past would forever haunt you!” This couldn’t be happening! He had to be lying! He was a criminal! He could never have meant well! It was a lie! A lie! She didn’t ruin anything! “No!” Tara yelled, hands clamped over her head. “You’re a liar! You wouldn’t do something like that and not tell me! You’re telling me now because you made it up! You just want me to feel bad!” “Oh, that’s a riot,” Mod shook his head with a false smile. “I’m the liar? Coming from someone ‘o can’t even tell the truth about who she is? By the way, that wasn’t even a lie. Not letting you know was for your own good. I was trying to protect you. I can’t imagine why I’d ever want to do that.” “You’re the one who told me to leave my past behind…” she reminded, the fire in her words gone. “I made a mistake,” he stated bluntly. “I thought you would use your second chance to be a better person. You didn’t.” “...Are you going to take my second chance away?” Tara’s voice cracked. Mod let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to admit what you did, apologize, return what you stole, and face the consequences?” “...Yes,” she relented. “Go on,” he looked down at her, arms crossed once more.

#taoip #optao #taostory #I swear it will make sense in context. #Mad Mod #Terra

[intjcanbelieveit]

Quartz

The thoughts I had that day were overwhelming. What if I could do this? What if I tried it and succeeded? Would it change the whole course of my life?

What if I failed? Of course, failing doesn’t make me a failure, but it definitely hinder my interest in trying new things again.

“Just do it already!” Smokey screeched from the bottom of the half-pipe.

I observe that, while it is just my imagination, the bottom of the ramp feels super SUPER far away. “I’m not sure I can do it guys…”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Smokey added. “You crack your knee and Azurite has to glue you back together?”

Carnelian elbowed Smokey who gave an eye roll. “You can always come down if you don’t want to do it,” she called up reassuringly.

“But I do!” I cried – trying to convince myself that I did. “You guys spent so much time carving and smoothing this out and I’ve never even given it a chance.”

“Well maybe we didn’t build it for you,” Pyrite chimed in. “Not everything has to be for everyone.”

That stung. Just because the 3 of them skateboarded on this ramp doesn’t mean I should be excluded from it. I had half a mind to tell them so when suddenly I felt a gentle push from behind. I lost my balance and screamed as I careened down the ramp and full speed on the board. The force of speed made me shrink down as I panickily grabbed at the edge of the board.

A chorus a voices shouted random bits of utterly useless advice to me as I crested the other half of the ramp, flailing. I scrabbled for the board as I felt myself falling away from it. I landed with a thud on my stomach as the board slipped through my fingers and rolled back down the ramp. It rolled back and forth in the basin until Smokey kick-flipped it into his hand.

Carnelian climbed the slope to inspect the damage to my mangled body. I slowly sat up and caught my breath and she took a look at my hands. “A few scrapes, but sandstone is nothing compared to raw quartz. Let’s see your stomach.” I gingerly lifted up my shirt and let her take a look then flinched as she swept off the particles of sand that had tried to embed themselves. “Yep, right as rain.” Her smile reassured me a little.

“Q that was a sweet ride!” Smokey laughed waving the board around. “Gotta show me how you get air like that!”

“She’s right, you know. You had some serious hang time,” Carnelian added as she helped me down the slope. I braced myself against her muscular arm. Maybe if I was as strong as Carnelian or and relaxed as Smokey I wouldn’t have been nearly as intimidated. But I did feel a little proud of myself that I did it…but then again, I didn’t choose it…someone pushed me. I looked around and noticed that Pyrite wasn’t anywhere to be seen, even the other side of the ramp. Did he push me?

Later that afternoon I ran into Pyrite in the training hall practicing stances with his double-handed scythe. Rather than ‘ran into’, I suppose I knew he was there. He always was at this time of day. I wiped my feet with the cloth at the edge of the floor then stepped up on the slate surface and tried to walk quietly and surprise him.

I watched as he gracefully yet firmly placed his feet and drew the pair of blades in and out away from his core in controlled sweeping motions. I apparently was the one not paying attention because he suddenly came upon me and aimed the curved blades at either side of my neck. I froze, by some strange instinct, even though I knew those blades couldn’t cut thought me.

“If you’re wondering if I pushed you this morning, the answer is ‘yes’,” he said without even looking me in the eye. “You need to step out of your comfort zone more or you’ll be a weak link.”

That was mean and rather harsh. I had intended to tell him so but he continued, lowering her scythes with a deep breath out – his eyes were closed. “You need to learn that taking risks is how you grow. You can’t learn to deal with everything by studying every aspect of it.”

Ugh. I hated how he got right to the heart of my problems. It was annoying how he could see through me like that. “Well, I can gather most of the information so I don’t make stupid mistakes.”

“Mistakes are the best teachers,” he connected the two ends of the scythes into a large single staff and held it in front of his middle

“Not in the middle of a fight,” I explained. “Or when it could cost you a limb!”

“We were made to be fixable. Plus, you’re in a safe environment, you can make mistakes here.”

Not in front of the likes you of, Pyrite-Garessen! A born natural at swinging sharp objects, punching, kicking, and all things active. I let out a snort.

“You can be mad all you want, but that won’t change the fact that you need to get better at fighting.”

“Why? Who is there even to fight? We live in the middle of freaking nowhere and any enemy we see we could have seen coming for miles!”

Pyrite slammed the tip of staff into the ground and turned to look at me. His squarish golden eyes drilled into mine for a moment as he moved toward me. “Do you want to know a secret?”

I felt suddenly uncomfortable and took a step back as he approached. His body shifted as he drew near, shortening his stature, but extending the length of his hair so that he could wrap his arm around my shoulders and bring me in close. He forced me into a kneeling position then folded his legs under his body likewise. “Azurite said that secrets are best kept to oneself…”

“I bet Azurite doesn’t even know this,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Ironwood-garessen, Azurite’s teacher and our creator? Yeah, he built us to be weapons for a nation of plants.”

I blinked in disbelief.  “No that can’t be. Azurite always said he was lonely and wanted company.”

“That’s only partially true. I found some of his old journals and read through the entries.”

“That’s rude!”

“Shh! Don’t interrupt! I read that he had been trying for years to build sentient rock forms to arm and protect the Etretian treetians. A group that was said to be protected by God but has essentially turned their back on him when he left them to die in the desert and be captured and torched by their enemies in the area. Because they thought he had abandoned them it was decided by the elders and the judges that they should build their own ‘rock of promise’ and started a program to build us.” I could feel his nervous excitement as he spoke, he tightened his grip on my shoulders.

“That seems a little far-drawn, Pyrite, I mean really.” I tried to shrug off his arm and straighten back up. “Azurite always taught us that God is near and never abandons those who are his. And what even is a ‘rock of promise’?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted letting off my shoulders finally. “I need to do more digging, and I was hoping you could help me with it.”

So, he was just getting under my skin so he could ask me to help him?

“And I wasn’t just saying that you need to be more outgoing to be mean.”

There’s that mind-reading again.

“I need you to be brave and help me research about this more. And you also need to be ready to fight, because if that’s what we were made for, then I’m sure there’s something or someone out there that we were supposed to fight!”

Why would we need to fight someone we don’t even know for some group we’ve never met? Would there even need to be a fight if we never ran into the enemy?

“Please, Q, you’re the best researcher I know. I need to have you by my side to solve this puzzle. And I have a plan I think you’ll like.” I raised my brows in expectation. “I want you to go to the school so that you can get into the Floating Library at Nosse and dig up those records. If anything about this project would be anywhere, it would be there!”

“The Library at Nosse!” I exclaimed. Pyrite quickly shushed me again. “The library as Nosse?” I repeated, mostly to myself. “It’s always been my dream to go there!”

He nodded. “And I think if you can convince Azurite to let you study with the scholars in the city, they might take you to the library as an extracurricular activity. If you can somehow convince them to bring me or somehow, you’re able to sneak me into the library, I don’t even ask you to look for me, I’ll find it myself.”

My mind whirled with possibilities. The most beautiful structure made by the hand of the treetians to be placed in the sky, protected so that nothing on earth could destroy the sacred knowledge held within. Very little was known by current treetian scholars about how they past societies managed to make such a large building float with the use of magnetics and pullies. The sacred building was only drawn back to earth once a year so that the top scholars in the world to access it works. What a dream come true it would be to be amongst them!

“So, are you in?”

I was brought back into reality by those expectant golden eyes looking up at my from under bangs of the same color.

“I’m in…”I hesitated, “so long as this research doesn’t hurt anyone. So long as it doesn’t change what we already have.”

“I can’t promise that,” Pyrite responded with an edge creeping into his words. “This could change everything for us, it could also give us the meaning of our lives! Tell us why we’re here and what our purpose is!”

Those questions bothered Pyrite? Questions of purpose and meaning outside of existing for its own sake? I wanted to reach deeper and pull out those questions when he stood up quickly and looked toward the door.

“Hey you two!” Carnelian called as she walked into the room. “You giving some secrete training advice or something?” she hung her jacket on a hanger on the wall and wiped her feet off before stepping on to the slate floor with them.

“Nah,” Pyrite said. “I was just giving her advice about skateboarding and how to build her confidence.” He patted my shoulder and smiled down at me.

Suddenly my insides tightened. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about this, was I? It was a secret between the two of us.

I stood up slowly, feeling the weight of this new knowledge settle into the place on my shoulders where Pyrite had removed his arm just before. How long has he carried this knowledge by himself? When did he decide to find Ironwood-garessen’s notes?

With new questions swirling in my head, Pyrite patted my back and sent me on my way announcing:

“Think about what I said, Q. If you ever need a confidence boost let me know. I am your biggest cheerleader, after all.”

#original story #story #writing #Gem story #gem dump #story dump

[dross-the-fish]

Adam’s Naming

The Creature sat in a chair that was uncomfortably small for him, his knees bent so that they nearly folded into his stomach. He watched anxiously as Watson pulled out his grooming kit and a pair of scissors.

“That mess of hair has to go, I’m amazed you don’t have lice,” the Doctor wrinkled his mustache as he methodically laid out his tools and began to separate the strands of black hair, first with his fingers to break apart the larger tangles without pulling then with a wide toothed comb.

The Creature, unaccustomed to being touched so casually, fought the urge to squirm away, “Parasites seem to find my blood unappetizing, I’ve never had to suffer their infestations on my person. A small mercy, I suppose,” he said.

“Be that as it may, I should hope that now that you are among people, you’ll be diligent with your hygiene,” Watson replied, grimacing as he picked up his scissors and snipped away the first oily lock, watching it pool on the ground in a snaky curl.

“I never anticipated that I would be among people. It is a foreign thing to be concerned with my appearance outside of hiding it from sight.”

“Have you really never had a friend?” Watson asked.

“No, never. The closest thing I had was a mere moment, I spoke once with an old blind man and he treated me kindly before his family drove me away,” the Creature fell silent, drawing up the memory of DeLacy’s smile and the gentle reassurance he’d given him.

“Do not despair. To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate, but the hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are full of brotherly love and charity”

It had been a lie, of course, but in the fleeting instance he had believed it, it had been so very beautiful to hear. Despite himself, the Creature had been unable to completely give up on wishing it could be true.

“What the old man gave me was no more than a crumb, but it was every sliver of hope I ever carried in my life and even now, after 100 years, I hold it in my breast and let it nourish me for want of richer food,” he confided quietly.

The scissors paused and Watson rested his hand on the Creature’s head, “Well, we’ll have to do better than that, won’t we? Seems to me a man ought to live off of more than crumbs. Let’s start by giving you a proper name, shall we?” he suggested kindly.

The Creature froze, his vision blurred and he could feel himself begin to tremble. This was not real, it couldn’t be real, no one who looked upon him and knew what he had done could offer him true kindness, much less give him a name. Victor had made him, had labored for months to bring him into existence and couldn’t bring himself to give him that! It was impossible! He refused to believe this doctor, a stranger to him, could give him that so easily. It was mockery, or a trick. It had to be. With a roar he shot out of the chair, sending it toppling, and turned to face Watson, incensed further when the old man didn’t flinch.

“Call me demon! Call me monster, or devil, or abomination! You know well that I have worn them all and each title has been fitting,” he hissed, lowering his head so that he was an inch from Watson’s face and the doctor would have no choice but to truly look at him. At his ravaged cheeks and the chunk of skin missing from the end of his nose. His torn, black lips distorted into a hideous snarl as he attempted to goad the doctor into screaming or attacking. I’ll kill you, he thought, show me you’re just like everyone else and I’ll kill you…

“Stop that this instant!” Watson snapped firmly as he righted the toppled chair, “Such carrying on, really. If you’re a monster or a devil now it’s because you choose to be. I’ll not entertain such utter nonsense. Now, you have a choice, you can sit in this chair, let me cut your hair and we’ll pick out a name for you or you can leave. I don’t care where you go but I have no patience for tantrums. If you want to stay with us you had better get a lid on that temper this very minute!” he tapped the back of the chair expectantly, never once breaking the Frankenstein monster’s gaze.

The Creature deflated, caught off guard and chastened like a child scolded by a stern parent. He sank back into the chair and folded his hands in his lap, the very picture of contrition. Watson softened and resumed his cutting.

“As I recall,” he said as he settled into a rhythm, the quiet snip of the scissors soothing his nerves, “You said to Victor that you ought to have been his Adam. Adam is a fine name; a good, strong, name and I think it suits you. How would like to be called Adam?”

Silence. A shuddering gasp, then in a small trembling voice, “I would like that very much…”

Watson leaned forward and gave Adam’s cheek a pat, not flinching at the exposed muscle under the ridge of his cheekbone but moved to pity by the wetness trickling down it, "Whatever you were, whatever you've done, put it behind you now. This is your new start, your second chance. Don't squander it, Adam."

Note: No art, unfortunately, my tablet is malfunctioning again. Sorry guys.

#Adam Frankenstein #John Watson #crossover au #my writing

[theprincessandthepie]

here’s how mary and her high school hunter girlfriend that i just made up in my head can still win

#I just think Mary should get to have a little the way I loved you moment.... #the passion and the conflict of both coming to terms with living a girl while you both go to chemistry class and hunt monsters with her. #*loving #the final blowout fight. I just want to be NORMAL! do you mean you want to be a civilian or you want to be straight? (quietly) both. #she sits with her eldest son who is older than her but has managed to live less of a life than her regardless as he drowns his grief. #(this is post ending but before they rescue cas from the empty and Mary is alive because of course she is #what kind of a writer would kill off-) #(softly) I loved a girl once. #I loved your father. but I loved her first. #and I think. part of the reason I chose your father to fall in love with was to run from her. #(quietly but firmly) I don’t want you to choose your life like that. #a few months later she runs into her and is floored. she was always reckless when they were kids. Mary never imagined that she’d make it #this far. there’s love there still but they’re different people. she’s older. she has a wife and she she doesn’t hunt anymore. #but she’s still part of that world. she ended up going to college and studied a bunch of different languages and she splits her time between #translating manuscripts for academics and spell books for hunters. #she says: Mary. it doesn’t have to be one or the other. you don’t have to be normal to be happy. but you also don’t have to shun normalcy #either. #they keep in touch. Mary offers her number to Sam as he assembles his network. she finds a place for herself as she hunts on occasion #but also spends time dedicating herself to learning about the world she’s been thrust into. she makes friends in her classes at the local #community college. #she dates a few boys. she dates a few girls. #and when she starts going steady with a boy she does it on purpose. just because she loves him. #she’s not hiding from herself. she makes him go with her to pride the one year she goes before she decides it’s too much for her. #but she LOVES the motorcycles and gets one of her own. her jacket says posse magnet on the back. #Mary #mine

[erodasfishtacos]

can you write something about cheating harry and yn acting like a proper couple in front of anna, like harry with his arm around her and kissing her head and stuff, and anna is just standing there fuming and maybe tries to get physical with yn

Love Your Broken Pieces

-

warnings: cheating; mentions of trauma and domestic abuse

if you enjoy please consider donating $3 to my ko fi.

(any donations over $15 get a guaranteed blurb written of their choosing!)

reblog, like, comment, & come chat!

-

YN really really didn’t want to go out.

She wasn’t going to tell Harry that because it was a celebratory dinner for him because he’d just won Entrperur of the yearand she wasn’t going to ruin it.

It’s not that she didn’t want to celebrate his achievement.

She was so so proud of him but her therapy session had got moved up a day because the therapist had to go out of town.

YN didn’t want to bother him so she had went herself without telling him.

It was trauma-focused therapy which meant it was intensive, draining, and overall triggering at time.

Today had sparked a new memory that she had suppressed and she was really struggling to get through the day without his support.

She shouldn’t need him for everything. It wasn’t fair to him.

So she’d sat on her bed for thirty minutes before she managed to pull on a nice dress before curling her hair - zoning out and accidentally burning herself lightly.

Harry had to pick up Anna, offered to pick up YN.

“Hey pup, y’want me t’pick you up on the way?” Harry had called while she was swiping on mascara.

“No, I’ll just Uber,” YN try to keep her tone light but couldn’t stomach sitting in the car with that disgusting woman right now.

“No, let me come get you,” He insists, always preferring to drive her around over some stranger.

“I really don’t want to be in the car with Anna, okay? Just drop it,” YN replies a bit too tersely.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“What’s wrong, puppy?” Harry knows her much to well.

She couldn’t help but bristle, “Nothing. I just have to get ready. Okay? I’ll see you there.”

YN shouldn’t have hung up like that but her hands were shaking and it was taking all of her might to pull herself together to go.

“It’s all your fuckin’ fault your mum hates me,” Her dad had spat at her, right in the kitchen after dinner.

“Fuck,” She mumbles to herself as she drops her lipstick and it rolls under the dresser.

—

She canceled two Ubers before she found a driver who didn’t seem intimidating.

It made her fashionably late, everyone already seated, and it doesn’t make it any better when Anna greets her.

“About time. Can’t even make it at a respectable time for your supposed best friend’s dinner.”

Anna and Gemma both make a grimacing face at the rude comment but Harry interrupts before they interject, “S’okay, Uber’s can be a pain in the arse.”

“Er, yeah. The Uber…” YN mumbles lowly, there was an empty seat across from Harry that had been saved for her.

She could feel Harry’s eyes following her, studying her as she kept her head down and looked on the verge of tears.

“You look too much like your goddamn mother.”

“What d’you want to drink?” Harry asks softly, tapping her foot under the table.

“God Harry, she’s not a child,” Anna rolls her eyes as she glances over her menu.

Harry glares over at her with a strict warning glance that she needs to change her attitude or there is gonna be an issue.

“Just water,” YN replies, swallowing hard.

He knows somethings wrong when she doesn’t bite back at her, instead looking down at the menu like it’s the most interesting thing ever.

Harry had already known by the phone call.

There were quite a few people at the dinner, constantly engaging him in conversation as YN kept to herself.

It’s after the appetizer’s arrive that he can’t stand her fake smiles and attempts to seem like she’s enjoying herself.

“Outside, now,” Harry says firmly, not a question but a statement.

“Harry, don’t,” Anna huffs, not liking the private attention her enemy is about to get.

“I don’t remember askin’ you,” He hisses under his breath before following YN’s retreating figure to the main entrance.

They end up in the small alleyway, “Tell me what’s going on.”

YN’s eyes are moody, putting back on a nonchalant expression that would work for anyone but him, “I’m fine, I don’t know why you’re making a big deal. Let’s go enjoy your dinner.”

Harry backs her up against the brick wall, hand over her shoulder, “We’re not goin’ anywhere until you tel me. M’not stupid.”

It triggers something because she starts sniffling, whispers, “You’re going to be mad at me.”

His hard facial features relax, pressing his forehead to hers, “Please pup, y’know I love you no matter what.”

“My therapist moved our session to today. I went and uh…” YN begins to full on cry, burying her face in her hands.

“C’mon, tell me,” He encourages softly.

“It triggered a repressed memory. I…I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you. I fuck up everything for you already,” She chokes out, letting him pry her hands away.

“Puppy,” He murmurs with a laugh of disbelief, “I fuckin’ wake up everyday because of you. You make my life worth livin’. I’m not happy unless y’are.”

“I just…didn’t want tonight to go like this,” YN sighs quietly, “One night without my trauma.”

“Hey, hey. We’re workin’ through it together, yeah? It takes time. Y’made the effort to come and that means more to me than anything else,” He says truthfully, tilting her chin up.

Harry melts a bit when she leans up to give him a lightening fast peck, “I am so proud of all your accomplishments.”

“Wouldn’t have done any of it without you, sweet girl,” He rubs a thumb under her eye to wipe off a streak of makeup.

They stand outside for a minute longer in a tight hug.

-

When they walk back into the restaurant, Harry quietly asks Gemma to switch YN seats which she graciously agrees without a fuss.

Anna is shooting daggers at YN while the change happens and Harry pushes in her seat for her.

The whole dinner consists of Anna fuming and hanging on every single movement between the two despite her hand on Harry’s thigh.

When he scoops up a bit of his mashed potatoes and feeds them to YN, laughs when she makes a face at the amount of chives mixed in.

It’s like he doesn’t even noticed the casual arm he occasionally throws around the back of YN’s seat as they chat.

“Harry,” YN scolds with a small smile when he steals a shrimp from her plate when she’s not looking.

Anna had shrimp too and he didn’t look once to do that to her.

“S’good, here, have a bite of m’steak. Know Y’don’t like it rare but s’good. I promise,” He encourages, cutting her a thick piece.

How the fuck did Harry know how YN liked her steak?

He didn’t even remember Anna’s favorite color.

“Y’gettin’ sleepy?” Harry whispers to YN towards the end of the meal, his lips are nearly brushing her ear and Anna pinches his thigh hard.

“Fuck,” Harry replies, flinching away from the pain as he turns to his girlfriend, “Wha’ did you do that for?”

“Can you pay at least a little bit of attention to me? I’m your girlfriend despite how much YN wants to pretend she is,” Anna says haughtily, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry is about to snap on her but instead YN speaks up first, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know jealously was on the menu. Eat up, Anna.”

Anna begins to sneer but Harry says, “Why don’t you go take a second in the bathroom? Then we can talk, okay?”

With a little stubbornness, she does - stomping away from the table without looking back at YN who had rolled her eyes.

“Y’on my menu tonight? A bath and cuddle sounds nice,” He offers to his love, thumbing her upper thigh.

“So nice,” YN agrees, “Can we use that sugar cookie bath bomb?”

“Of course, anythin’ you want, m’pup,” Harry hums sweetly, kissing the top of her head.

Anna is walking back when she sees it.

He’s cheating on me.

It flashes through her mind but she pushes it away because she reminds herself that YN is a pathetic little clingy girl who Harry wouldn’t ever like that way.

—

Later that night, Harry holds YN as she recount her memory.

Praises her for being so strong.

Kisses her because he loves her so much it hurts most days.

Assures her that he’ll love her even if she’s never ‘fixed’.

Promises that he’ll never let anyone hurt her again.

—

I’d love feedback 🥺

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar

#harry styles cheating #cheating!harry blurb #cheating!harry masterlist #cheating!harry

[bobastar]

here’s part one:

’𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙾𝙽𝚃 𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙸 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴-!’

𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚘 𝚇 𝚏! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

ఌ ఌ

you guys stayed for a bit until you calmed down. “you ready to home princesa?” he caressed the side of your face, moving his thumb over your cheek softly. you nodded and got up with him. you brushed off your dress and linked your arm with his. he held on to you securely, always checking if you were okay and actually ready to go home.

“are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he sighed and looked at you. “im fine, thank you cielo.” you kissed his forehead, letting go of his arm. you reached your porch and he was worried you’d be lonely. “if you say so bonita, have great dreams.” he kissed your cheek, then your lips and walked back. you smiled to yourself and went to your room, flopping on your bed. sighing heavily, you closed your stinging eyes, trying not to cry anymore.

— —

camilo walked back furious and disappointed in his abuela. how could she? he wasn’t going to let this slide, i mean that’s his girlfriend we’re talking about! no one gets to talk about her, especially about her looks. she’s so adorable, and caring, and her eyes…her delicate hands, god he gets so flustered each time he sees you, or hears your voice. abuela will regret saying those awful things to you.

he opened the door and just by a glance of his face you could just tell what was about to go down. julieta and pepa smiled to themselves as camilo sat across from abuela.

“what the hell was that Alma?” he told her crossing his arms. her eyes widen, “perdón?! you can’t talk to me like that.”

“oh but you can talk to my girlfriend like that? honestly, dime algo abuelita, what was going through your head when you decided to speak up.” he scoffed and laid back into his chair. stumbling over her words camilo shook his head softly and chuckled. “from what i can tell, absolutely nothing…why do you hate her? ella no te hizo absolutamente nada!” he stood up and hovered over the table, his hands firmly pressed down.

“i dont know why you’re acting like this camilo, clearly she’s doing no good for you except making you burst out-“ “WHY AM I ACTING LIKE THIS?!” he laughed sarcastically “oh i don’t alma maybe because you embarrassed y/n in front of everyone..”

“i didnt embarrass her, she did it to herself for looking like the way she is. really camilo, out of all las niñas bonitas escoges la más fea. you should be with someone-“

“no! don’t you dare finish that stupid sentence..” he gulped “you don’t get to choose who i love..! y/n is one of the only people who don’t care about about my what you like to call ‘blessing’ when in reality it’s a curse! you only care about this dumb power! and not for me… y/n has been there for me more than you have my whole life! she’s not only beautiful on the outside but she has a better personality than you.” his eyes were now watery and tears were coming down his face quickly. abuela was left speechless as camilo left casita to go with his novia.

he wipes his eyes as he walked down the streets. he didn’t feel bad, he needed to defend his amor. alma needs to see that she was in the wrong.

he reached the house and knocked on her window. the curtain was swooped to the side and showed y/n’s pretty face.

— —

“cami?” you opened your window. “ it’s gonna rain soon, come inside.” he crawled inside the room. “i think i know why it’s going to rain.” he sniffed and chuckled quietly.

“hey…” you closed your window and fixed your curtain. “hey what’s what’s wrong?” you went towards him quickly and cupped his face.

“im sorry, i really am y/n/n. i didnt mean for dinner to go like that.” he put his hand over yours, rubbing it lightly with his thumb. “i understand if you want a break or…”

“i would never want that to happen between us cami. you’re the whole universe to me.” you kisses his forehead. “i mean it. you didn’t expect for things to become they way it was. i don’t blame you.” he sighed shakily.

“can we just…cuddle?” he smiled softly. “yeah of course..” you went into bed and put your body under the sheets. he made sure to not make you uncomfortable and asked you if he could as well. “yeah of course.”

he took off his ruana and shirt, putting on an extra shirt he had. “are you comfortable?” he asked as he put his hands around your waist.

“mhm, are you?” you leaned your head on to his chest. he only nodded, taking in a deep breath, and smiling to himself.

his heart was beating fast, you could hear it.

he was so nervous to be getting so close to you.

“y/n…” he went down to your level and made eye contact with you. “you know i love you right? i didnt love you for you looks that was only a plus, but i love you for…you.” he smiled warmly at you.

“i love you too, ever since you tripped in front of me.” you laughed quietly. “we don’t speak about that day.” he joked and got closer to you.

you both leaned in and kissed. it lasted for about 5 seconds, until you both pulled back, smiling shyly at each other.

“no matter what happens, i’ll always be here.” he pulls you to your chest. “i’ll be here too.” your voice was muffled “always?” he kisses the top of your head. “always.” you kisses his neck softly.

“im counting on you to fulfill your promise when we have kids running around the house.” he joked. “i only want two kids.” you looked up at him. “hm…how about 5?” he smirked.

“im kidding amorcito..!” he looked down at you and smiled. “we can have two kids then.”

“and a cat, and in the house we can have a library.” you suggested. “and a pool, with some floaties.” he joined in.

“and we’ll grow old together, being just as happy as we are now, hm?” he played with your hair yawing. “i can’t wait to grow old with you.” you kissed his jawline. he chuckles softly and kissed your forehead. “me neither..”

#camilo madrigal #cute #camilo fluff #encanto #camilo my beloved #slight angst #camilo simp #encanto camilo #crying and throwing up #camilo x female reader

[saintodo]

𝐆𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒.

♡ note: this is a repost from my old blog!! i’ll most likely be reuploading some old stuff

♡ pairing: sasha braus x fem!reader

♡ word count: 2k

♡ warnings: large age gap, wlw content, oral sex, milf!sasha, babysitter!reader

Your job as a babysitter had quite a few perks.

One: The pay is good. You were rather reluctant to resort to babysitting as a part-time job but, desperate times call for desperate measures, especially when you’re trying to earn some form of income while putting yourself through your last year of University. So you were pleasantly surprised when you had been offered more than you normally would be compensated when babysitting.

Two: The kid you babysit, Kaya, is an absolute angel. Due to her rather withdrawn nature, Kaya typically keeps herself busy by quietly reading in her room or watching the television in the living room. As time has passed and Kaya’s slowly become accustomed to your presence, she no longer seems as apprehensive to interact with you as she once was. It’s obvious to you that she’s a good kid. Although she’d rather keep to herself, she’s always polite when you converse and sometimes she’ll even ask if you want to join her and watch a show together. She has pretty good taste in shows, you think as you watch “The Winx Club” together.

Three: Miss Braus is one of the hottest fucking women you’ve seen in your life. She looks fucking incredible for a woman her age and you were honestly shocked to learn that she’s as old as she is. Whenever you interact with the woman, you have to physically restrain yourself from allowing your eyes to lower; her shirts are always exceptionally tight, clinging like a second-skin to her tits. It’s only when she turns around to leave through the front door that you let yourself check out the older woman. She has a damn nice ass.

“Hello, Miss Braus.” With your tote bag resting on your shoulder, you step inside of the home as the brunette warmly ushers you in.

“Miss Braus makes me feel old. How many times do I have to tell you that Sasha will do just fine, sweetheart?” She complains, playfully scolding you as you slip off your sneakers by the entrance of the door. Her hands are firmly placed on the curve of her hips when you lift your head to offer her a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, Mi—Sorry, Sasha. Force of habit, I guess.” You bring up one hand to rub at the back of your neck, brows lightly pinching together when you survey the space to see Kaya nowhere in sight. “Eh, pardon me, Sasha, but where’s Kaya at?”

Although you’re well aware of how reserved her daughter is, you’ve come to expect Kaya to be curled up on the couch reading a novel whenever you come over to babysit her. You guys have fallen into the habit where you’ll cook her lunch as soon as you arrive while she reads nearby so it’s rather unusual that the blonde girl is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s at her father’s house for the day.” For a brief moment, the brunette’s expression pinches up: distaste for the blond man made evident on her face. You don’t know too much about Sasha’s ex-husband, just that he’s some renowned chef that frequently travels a lot. Niccolo is his name if you recall correctly. It’s not your place to pry so you choose to not ask any questions regarding the matter and listen when Sasha slips little tidbits of information regarding her ex-husband.

Wait. What?

“Kaya’s not here?” If Kaya’s not here then why were you still scheduled to babysit today?

You’re drawn out of your train of thought when Sasha places a gentle hand on your shoulder. You startle at the little amount of space in between the two of you.

“Nope!” She cheerfully exclaims as she slips your bag off of your shoulders. You’re left in a stupor, wondering what the fuck is going on, but you shake it off and follow Sasha, who has turned around and is now making her way in the direction of the kitchen.

“I thought we could chat today!” Her back is turned towards you as you take a seat at one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. She floats around the kitchen, grabbing items from the fridge and cabinets. Your eyes glue themselves to the thin sliver of skin that appears when Sasha’s shirt rides up as she reaches for something in one of the upper cabinets.

“O-oh, okay.” This turn of events is rather strange, but you’re not complaining. Sasha’s a really wonderful conversationalist: the conversation flows naturally between you two and you’re always left in stitches at the jokes she cracks. Also, you get the opportunity to openly ogle her with her back facing you as she cooks something on the stove. You’re not going to pass up on an opportunity like this.

“I’m making us some lunch, but it’s going to take some time to cook.” You’re knocked out of your reverie once again and quickly avert your gaze from Sasha’s ass to meet her eyes. You desperately hope you were fast enough that she didn’t catch you. Her expression doesn’t give anything away so you think you’re good.

“Sounds good to me! Thank you so much for making lunch.” Your mouth waters at the thought of eating Sasha’s cooking. Although you’ve never tried it, Kaya’s always boasted about how her parents are both great cooks. You’re looking forward to trying her food since Kaya speaks so highly of it.

“Of course, honey! It’s no issue especially for such a sweet girl.” Your thighs automatically squeeze together. You mentally thank a higher being that the counter hides your lower half because that would be painfully embarrassing for you if your employer saw how turned on they made you by uttering only two words.

You watch as Sasha floats around the kitchen, grabbing some more ingredients from the fridge and different cabinets before tossing them all together on the stove to simmer. You fidget in your seat, never one who was good at sitting still with nothing to occupy your attention. You feel that it would be rude for you to pull out your phone and scroll through social media in Sasha’s presence.

“There we go! Now we just have to let this simmer for a while,” she exclaims, turning around to face you and clapping her hands together. A pretty smile graces her face and her features light up when you return it with a grin of your own.

“Since it’s going to take some time, how about we get comfy?”

Sasha pats the seat next to her on the couch, prompting you to slip out of the stool you’re sitting on to join her. You make sure to maintain a respectable distance that Sasha effectively destroys when she scoots closer to you until your knees are brushing against one another’s. The lack of space between you two makes you more nervous than you’d like to admit, but you don’t move from your spot.

The air is stolen straight out of your lungs when Sasha places a delicate hand on your knee.

“You know, you’re not really discreet when you’re checking me out, honey,” Sasha notes.

“Huh—what?” It takes your brain a moment to process what Sasha’s said, especially as her hand steadily inches up your thigh. Once you realize what she’s said, embarrassment crashes over you in a cold wave.

“Oh my god, I am so so so sorry Miss Braus. Please forgive—.”

Your words die out when Sasha places the hand that’s not on your thigh on your cheek, forcing you to look her way.

“You talk too much, sweetheart,” Sasha affectionately chides before she presses her lips to yours, effectively shutting you up in the process. You’re frozen still for a moment. Is this actually fucking happening? When you feel Sasha move her lips against yours, you realize that yes, this is, in fact, fucking happening.

Any of your prior hesitations is thrown out the window when you feel Sasha’s hands slip underneath the hem of your t-shirt. Your tongue traces the seam of her lips before Sasha parts them, letting you in. Your hands rest on her hips, urging and guiding her to seat herself on top of your lap.

You smile against her lips as a startled gasp leaves them when you firmly squeeze her ass.

“Too much clothing,” she rasps out while pulling her shirt over her head. You’re quick to follow suit and tug your own t-shirt off just in time to watch Sasha unclasp her bra. Her breasts spill out from underneath the constraining fabric and jiggle before settling against her chest.

As much as you want to lean forward and lather her tits in attention, you’re eager to switch the position you’re currently in. Sasha’s back hits the couch’s cushions with a quiet thump as your frame leers above her.

Her eyes widen in brief surprise at the action, but Sasha’s not granted much time to think when you swoop down to kiss her again. It’s sloppier this time around. You have no clue when, or if, you’ll ever get this chance again and you’re determined to make the most of it. You want to ingrain the taste of Sasha into your brain.

Her hands tangle together behind your neck when you begin your descent down her body. You lick the bead of sweat trailing down the column of her neck and gently nip at the skin there. Not hard enough to make any marks, but just hard enough to elicit a gasp from Sasha.

“Fuck. Just like that.”

She throws her head back when you swirl your tongue around the hardened bud of her nipple while your fingers roll her other one. You lavish her tits in attention, sucking and nipping at them until blood rushes to the surface of her skin. When you lean back, you mentally pat yourself on the back. Her tits are a mess, covered in hickies of varying sizes.

You pepper kisses to her stomach, relishing in how soft and plush her skin is, before tossing her legs over your shoulders.

“You look so good like this, Sasha. So pretty and desperate for me to eat you out,” you coo. You hook your arms underneath her thighs, grabbing fistfuls of the fat of her ass until she’s positioned in a way you like.

“Hurry up and put your mouth on me already.” She tightens her thighs around your head and digs her heels into your back, urging you to get on with it already. If this was any other situation, you’d draw it out a little longer until Sasha was on the verge of tears and begging you to eat her out, but you’re feeling impatient. You can’t lie and say you’re not eager to have a taste of her.

Before Sasha can complain at how long you’re taking, you dive in. A startled moan tears its way out of her throat when you lick a long, deep stripe along her dripping slit. You lap at her cunt like a woman starved, devouring her whole. You circle her clit with your tongue before latching onto it.

“Shit. I’m so close. You’re doing s’good.”

Her back arches off of the sofa as her hands bury themselves into your hair. She digs the blunt edges of her nails into your scalp and the slight splintering pain has you moaning into her cunt.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Shit! I’m cumming.”

She sharply digs her heels into the muscle of your upper back and she cums with a loud cry. You hold her in place as she convulses, bucking her hips wildly as she rides out her orgasm. You gently suckle on her clit and run your tongue through her folds until she’s whimpering.

The incessant beeping of the timer that Sasha had previously set startles the two of you. From in between her thighs, you stare up at her with a crooked grin. A mixture of her juices and cum coats your lips and chin. Her eyes dart to the pink of your tongue when you lick your lips clean. You use the back of your hand to wipe your chin, which only serves to smear the liquid more.

“Thanks for the dessert, Sasha. I’m looking forward to tasting your cooking now.”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut #sasha x reader #sasha braus x reader #sasha blouse x reader #sasha smut #sasha blouse smut #sasha braus smut #holy.hymns #sin too much #shrine.attack on titan #saint.sasha braus #tw fem reader #tw age gap