#Emerald Ficlet

[amywritesthings]

a silver truce in snow. / a levi holiday ficlet

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Snow is a mythical thing in the Underground City. Now, on a Scout mission, you get to experience the real deal. Naturally that means starting a snowball fight with Levi Ackerman - but make it horny. tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, explicit language, snowball fight, secret relationship, kisses, power/authority kinks, sexual tension, implied sexual content, touch-starved idiots, friends to lovers, fluff w/a little slutty note: set in the universe of silver underground credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the fourth day of the twelve days of amymas 2023 !!

Snow was such a bitch.

Beautiful, something people in the Underground City would never get to see in the flesh, but such a bitch.

Carrying the last of the supplies up the mountain yourself towards the rendezvous cabin had been one hell of a choice.

Captain Levi was explicit about trudging on foot and leaving the horses behind, so it was up to the team to meet with the rest of the Scouts waiting with Erwin.

It's not a competition to get there, but of course it's a competition to get there before Oluo — not that beating him is hard to do.

Petra and the others are eons ahead, likely already nestled inside tonight's shelter. You move slower, somewhere between a purposeful and accidental pace.

Because it's snow. Real, tangible snow.

At first you were excited to see the flurry, experience the cold, for yourself — snow was just a fairytale in smuggled books for the kids in the Underground City.

Now?

Now you’re sinking one foot into another pile of snow, and you’re really over the novelty.

(You can’t remember the last time you felt your fingers in these mittens.)

“Tired already?”

A voice calls to you from the top of the hill, and the snow beneath your feet illuminates.

Your cold-worn chin lifts to the sudden array of light: Levi Ackerman stands over you, nose pink from the chill and brow quirked with interest.

The fire from the lanterns illuminating the cabin create a halo effect behind his emerald Scout hood.

His words are meant to be a jab, but you know what he’s really saying:

Sorry I couldn’t help.

Helping signals favoritism.

Favoritism would sell you out — to Erwin, to Hange, to the team — in five seconds flat.

(You could — and have — argued that most of the squad already has an idea. Forever bound to the cards held to his chest, Levi insists keeping your secrets to yourselves.)

“And you’re not?” you ask in an exhausted huff.

“I can carry supplies double my weight,” he replies in that playful monotone, “unlike someone I know.”

“Oh?” You exhale again. “You calling me weak, Ackerman?”

“I’m not the one out of breath, am I?”

Levi retorts in jest, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Well, then — if that’s how he’s going to be.

“You might wanna check on Oluo,” you add, taking one last step to land on flatter earth. You wipe the sweat off of your forehead with the back of your mitten and drop the supply bag to the ground. “I think I lost him down the hill.”

“He’ll make it up the mountain eventually,” Levi reassures, relieving the second sack off of your hands.

You relent, not willing to spoil the moment by pointing out that this can be considered helping.

“He’s all the way down the hill?”

He tosses the sack to the cabin’s stoop, then bends to remove the first supply bag from the snow. He tosses that, too, and fully turns to greet you.

His cheeks are equally pink from the cold, and you can't stop staring.

(It's adorable. He'd hate being called adorable.)

"Yeah," you nod.

Levi trudges through the snow towards you.

“All the way?”

"Yeah, why?" you repeat with confusion.

You see where it’s going as soon as he crosses the threshold into your orbit.

"And, Lieutenant, in your best estimation," Levi continues, feigning professionalism, "it will take at least ten minutes for Oluo to reach the Scout cabin?" 

A smile grows on your face, careful yet delighted.

“Fifteen minutes, Captain, at the very least.”

Your body is compelled forward when Levi loops an arm around your waist, dragging you to him.

The laugh on the tip of your tongue dies when he presses a freezing kiss to your lips.

It's risky, but you're so glad he's willing to take it.

When it comes to expeditions, your lives are a simple mosaic of stolen kisses and phantom touches. Alone time is impossible when you’re traveling on the road.

(Except it's just usually you who makes the first move.)

The dark-haired man sighs, breath hot in comparison to his lips, when you return the kiss with equal passion.

He turns his head to deepen the stolen kiss, eager for a moment — only a moment — where he can have you.

Everything feels warmer in this small pocket of two.

Emboldened by his spontaneity, you flick his lower lip with your tongue.

Without fail, Levi makes a noise of want.

His fingers under his gloves squeeze your side for foundation.

( Maybe tonight, if you’re quiet.)

Except you had your own plans.

Surely he'll veto a midnight tryst at your childish desires, but what you're about to do to ruin the moment was decided upon well before this surprise kiss.

Somewhere around the time of Levi leaving everyone else in the snowy dust and now, Gunther had taught you about things kids on the surface did when it snowed.

Build snowmen.

Make snow angels.

Snowballs, though... a packed little ball of snow, ready to launch at a moment's notice.

A fight.

Levi Ackerman was so focused on the two bags over your right shoulder that he never saw the traveling ball you'd made while climbing the mountain.

A sizeable weapon, not wholly round but resembling enough of what Gunther showed you on the road.

And now he's focused on the kiss that he doesn’t see your arm rise—

Slowly, without detection—

Abruptly you pull away, sliding back to create space.

His eyes belated flutter open, lips pursed in warmth by the kiss — then explode wide when he sees a glob of white.

Bam.

It's a successful first throw.

Levi stumbles, sputtering and wiping his cheeks and chin with gusto.

"James—!"

You back up with a laugh to the gray sky, all too proud of your accomplishment.

It’s a full belly laugh, giddy with childlike excitement that you managed to pull that off.

"That's what you get for going way ahead of the rest of us, Ackerman."

The hair framing his face is dipping with water, pout palpable.

He looks like a human-sized cat, sopping and annoyed.

“You little shit,” he growls, but it’s not out of anger.

It's determination.

He bends at the knees to gather snow into his gloves with quick precision, leaving you little time to run backwards.

“Where’re you going?” he calls. "What, you thought you'd get one hit and win?"

"Levi!" you shriek when he throws the first snowball.

Humanity’s Strongest doesn’t miss.

His snowball lands against your white trousers, wetting the fabric.

You use the hem of your cloak to try and protect yourself from the inevitable war you’ve started.

“I’m sorry!” you exclaim, unable to stop laughing.

(Clearly not sorry enough, since you reach down to start making up a sphere in retaliation.)

“Uh-huh,” he huffs, doing the same. “Should’ve thought that one through before you threw snow in my face.”

“You had us walk up a hill!” you call to him, and he holds up another snowball as a threat.

You continue sliding backwards, doing your best to quickly compact a ball.

You fail, miserably.

“So now my Lieutenant complains?” Levi asks, and a fire ignites in your belly.

You’ll never get over him calling you his. 

(Mine, he whispers in your ear at night when your wrists are pinned over your head, one crossed over another, as his other hand holds your chin in place. Levi has to make sure your eyes are on him and only him when he enters you, slow and deliberate, to witness your eyes flutter from the stretch. You’re mine.)

He throws another.

It hits you square in the chest.

Every time you throw another pathetic little snowball back at him, the dark-haired man easily dodges the attack.

He’s agile, focused, as he steps closer and closer.

You yelp again when you manage to finally dodge a fluffy puck coming right for your face.

Your hands shoot high, parallel to your head, to surrender.

“Truce!”

Levi squints, making up another snowball.

“A truce? I don’t think you get to call one.”

You take a leap of faith, dropping to your knees in the heavy snowfall.

Your clothes are going to be soaked right through, but you don’t care.

The look in Levi’s eyes when he realizes you’re giving up in this fashion is enough to make the chill running up your body worth it.

He nears, snowball in hand.

You lift your chin, your gaze meeting stern gray eyes.

You have to pray those cabin windows are as frosted on the inside as they look on the outside, but Levi blocks you from view as he stands directly in front of you.

“What are your terms and conditions, Lieutenant?” he asks, voice heady.

He rips the mitten off by his teeth, ripping it clear off of his free hand.

A pale hand reaches for your chin, thumb pressed against the center of your lower lip.

You don’t move, hot in the face from sudden arousal.

“I—”

His thumb glides along your frozen mouth, back and forth, allowing you time to contemplate your answer.

Nothing comes to mind.

You’re too focused by how warm the digit feels against your weather-worn skin.

“Speechless?” he mocks. “That’s unlike you.”

When you fail to speak again, Levi leans down to whisper in your ear.

“We can call a truce for now, but this? Isn’t over.”

All the air escapes your lungs when his lips press a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to your earlobe.

“Meet me at midnight, my door. We'll draw up a peace treaty, but on my terms."

That kiss turns into a nibble, and you make a small nose of desire.

Levi's voice is an octave deeper.

"Is that understood?”

If it wasn't so cold, you'd fuck him in this damn snow storm.

Unable to help yourself, you turn your chin and give a kitten lick to his jawline.

“Yes, sir,” you mock in return.

You’ve only ever called him sir to grate his nerves.

Now isn’t any different.

He pulls away.

"Good."

Opening his other gloved palm, Levi makes a point to show the readied snowball — only to drop it back to the pillowy earth below.

"I won't tolerate lateness."

Before he turns, you see it:

A grin, gone as fast as it appears, on his lips.

You can't help but grin yourself, heart racing at the night that lay ahead.

Yeah.

This fight isn't over.

And you'll gladly take the punishment that fits the crime.

.

#levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x reader #levi x you #aot x reader #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fic #captain levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin fic #holiday one shot #holiday fanfic

[putellas14]

It Was Only a Matter of Time, ficlet 2

"Babe!" you yelled, knocking on the bathroom door. "Are you almost ready?" Alexia and Leila had been in the bathroom for over an hour. All the girls were impatiently waiting in the living room to leave. Lola Indigo was having a private party and had invited them all to come.

"Just a sec!" Leila called out. She opened the door just enough to come out and shut it behind her. "Remember to breathe," she whispered.

"Excuse -" The bathroom door opened and Alexia stepped out. "Holy shit," you whispered.

"Breathe," Leila reminded you. She patted your shoulder and walked down the hall, yelling, "Chicas, vamonos! They're going to be a while."

"I -" you tried. "Uh. Shit." Alexia was wearing two tiny strips of black velvet connected with crisscrossing strings over her abs. Her hair was pushed back over her shoulders, her eyes deeply lined with thick lashes, her lips a deep peach. "Oh my god."

"Damn, baby you look good," Alexia said, running a hand down your side. You had chosen simple black slacks and an emerald blazer over a lace crop top that barely covered enough to be legal. She leaned up to kiss the corner of your lips. "I assume you like my outfit as well?"

You nodded vigorously, still barely breathing. You lifted your finger, turning it in a circle, because you needed to bring more pain on yourself. Lifting Alexia's arm over her head, she turned in a slow circle so you could see the full outfit.  You should've taken a breath before asking to see the back. There was even less in the back than the front.

"Alexia," you whined. "You look so beautiful."

"Yeah?" she asked, suddenly shy.

"My reaction didn't give it away?" you asked, smiling. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you pulled her close. "Can I just take a few photos before we go?" She nodded, giving you a small kiss, transferring some of the lipstick to your lips. You took way too many photos, loving the ones where she finally cracked a smile and laughed at your stupid jokes. It would be hours before you saw your real favorite though, a smoldering look thrown over her shoulder at you just moments before she'd laughed at herself for trying to look sexy.

Unable to help yourself, you pushed her flat against the wall with your hips and pressed a hard kiss to her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Anywhere but her lips, where she wanted you. When she tried to guide you towards her face, you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door, telling her it was time to go. If you didn't go now, you'd never make it out the door.

Throughout the night, Alexia's hand kept finding its way under your blazer, her fingers running across your bare skin at the most inopportune times. Like when Lola asked you what you liked best about Ibiza and you had to bite your tongue. Or when Vir asked how your mom was doing because she hadn't seen her in so long and you had to hold back a whine.

It didn't get any better the later into the night it got and the more Alexia drank. You'd learned very quickly that your girlfriend was a forward, extremely flirty drunk. It was a side of her you'd never seen before. And you were absolutely in love with it. She tried more than once to cop a feel on the dance floor. It was only when Leila called her out that you turned her, pulled her back flush against you and let your own hands wander where they wanted to.

You knew the signs that she was getting too tired. And decided to call it a night around 4am. Holding her tightly to your side, you let the other girls know you were calling a car back if anyone was ready to go. Only Jenni and Ana decided to stay behind because Lola was busy flirting with Ana and Jenni didn't want to leave her alone.

In your room at the house, you laid Alexia down on the bed. Moving slowly, you unbuckled her heels and dropped them on the floor. Going across the hall, you wet a few washcloths and brought them back to gently wipe the makeup off her face. You rubbed the wet cloth gently across her face until all the color was gone and just Alexia was left. Bending towards her, you pressed a light kiss to her cheek. She put a hand on your arm as you began to stand.

Looking at her, you dropped the towels on the floor so you could gently caress her cheek. "I love you, Ale." She tugged you down to kiss you. Slowly. Gently. Her hand tangled in your bun. It was the sweetest kiss, in complete contrast to the hard mouths and quick hands of earlier. You liked both but this? This was what you wanted forever. Your sweet, amazing girlfriend kissing you softly goodnight after a day spent together.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #futfem imagine #futfem x reader #fcb femeni imagine

[merotwst]

BEAUTIFUL STRANGER HERE YOU ARE ! -—fluff

‹ . savanaclaw ›

. ficlets

⇝awkward first meetings with beautiful strangers.

[ n: thank you for reading! this is sort of a modern au setting, please enjoy. not proofread. tw. mentions of thunder and lightning in ruggie's part ]

leona kingscholar ‹ savanaclaw ›

the cold of january seeped into the thickness of your jacket and you shivered as you found yourself sitting by one of the park benches. keeping an eye on your dog as it ran around the park, you watched as he went on about greeting strangers and playing with other dogs despite the chilliness that hung in the air. the puff of warm breath escaped your lips. it became visible as quickly as it dissipated into the air and it made you long for the warmth of home. the cozy couch you loved so much, sipping on hot cocoa with little marshmallows dancing at the top. when you stir they temporarily sink into the warm chocolate drink, but eventually come up to surface letting you know they're ready to be eaten.

you sigh dreamily at the thought. the remnants of your breath vanishing, you looked around to observe your surroundings. nothing was out of the ordinary, as per usual. your dog didn't seem to be showing any signs of stopping as he played with a child catching frisbees and rolling over in the frozen grass. you let out a soft chuckle, mentally thanking the random kid for doing your work for you. reaching out for the coffee cup beside you, you gingerly take a sip.

your eyes were closed, savoring the... bitterness? what was this? this was not your usual order.

you looked at the cup, trying to see what was amiss. and sure enough, you did. last you checked, your name was not ‘leona’. and as you lowered the cup from your lips you felt a shiver run down your spine. slowly you turned your head and directly beside you, a stranger you didn't even realize was there was staring directly at you. you flinched before setting the cup down slowly. you felt like a small animal with the way it felt like he was observing you.

“sorry.” you apologized, embarrassed. but just as you held your own coffee in your hands, the stranger had stood up. you ceased all movements. the man took a couple of steps until he was standing directly in front of you. he reached our his hand and gingerly pulled your coffee away from your hands. you look up to meet piercing emerald green orbs and you didn't even fight him. so mesmerised you were with his sharp gaze that your fingers went limp. was it out of fear or was it awe of how pretty this man actually was, you had no clue. but you had an inking it was a little bit of both. he had a sense of wildness to him that you couldn't quite put your finger on. although he did look menacing towering over you like that, he didn't seem like he had any ill intentions.

the man held the coffee in his hands before wordlessly bringing it to his lips and taking a long sip. your jaw dropped.

you could see his face contort into a look of awkward disgust. the way his eyes wrinkled and his lips turned up showed how he was most likely judging your taste for your own coffee.

“what?” you ask in an almost offended tone. the man shrugged, “it tastes like shit.” he answered nonchalantly and your eyes rolled at him with mild annoyance.

“i'm sorry for actually wanting flavors in my coffee other than pure, raw bitterness.”

“it does it's job of keeping me awake.”

“it tastes like shit.” you sassed, hurling his own words back at him without realizing it.

his lips twitched into a smirk as he shoved one of his hands into his coat pocket, “do you always say that to strangers after you just randomly take a sip of their coffee? that's not normal.” he remarked and you scoffed.

“well, not all strangers are petty enough to take my own coffee, take a sip from it as well then make checklist remarks on it. that's not normal.”

his laughter rang across the area of the park. he had such a pretty laugh you forgot for a moment that you were actually having a little argument with him. the man gave you a toothy, lazy grin before lifting your coffee up in the air in a gesture that says, 'well i'm taking your tastes-like-shit coffee with me and you can't do anything about it' before turning on his heel and walking away.

you didn't make an attempt to stop him. just watched him waltz away with your coffee in his hands. how do you even respond to an encounter like this? maybe when you figure it out, you'll call the card he left on the park bench with a number and a name that matched the one written on the bitter coffee cup beside you.

ruggie bucchi ‹ savanaclaw ›

you didn't think it was of much consequence when you left home without an umbrella. after all, there wasn't a cloud in the sky that morning. maybe next time you'd make it a point to watch the weather forcast while eating breakfast instead of some other weird thing that pops out your feed.

holding your hand out and feeling the heavy drops of rain hit your palm, you groan inwardly. there go your plans of bolting it over to the next store 50 feet away but significantly closer to a bus stop.

'stupid weather,' you thought, 'how could you just change your mind like that?'

kind of like how your date changed their mind on you last minute. texting you a hasty 'sorry, can't make it' on the dating app. you would have been more positively receptive to it if they hadn't canceled on you after you waited for them at the cafe for almost two hours. the rain didn't help, either.

just as you were about to give up and accept your fate of having to wait for the rain to finish pouring all cold and damped and cramped with strangers beside you in the same predicament, you felt a buzz in your pocket. twenty minutes ago, you texted some friends about your situation and you couldn't help a wide grin break from your expression.

'i'm on my way home' the text from one of your friends glowed from the phone screen speckled with a bit of rain but it was like a beacon in the dark to you, 'i'll drive by to pick you up. expect me around 7 mins'.

the minutes ticked by but it felt like hours and the rain only poured harder. your friend hasn't responded yet, so you assume they must be driving. you couldn't wait to tell them all about your shitty date and your predicament.

and as if on cue, a car pulled up by the cafe. the haze that the pouring rain brought made it harder to tell, but it had the same color and size and you reckon the model as well, of the car your friend drove. the rush of adrenaline mixed with the frustrations the day brought, you bolted from the safety of the cafe's cover towards the car. in one quick motion, you opened the door and threw yourself in the driver's seat. and without missing a beat, you started to talk.

“fucking hell! you know that person from three days ago i was talking to? they didn't even have the decency to tell me they wouldn't make it before we left our houses. they made me wait for two whole hours. two! i've practically gone through the entire drink menu they had in that damn cafe! i'm so pissed!” you exclaim while wiping your wet clothes and skin with a handkerchief, showing no signs of stopping until the person in the driver's seat responded.

“yeah? then what happened?” a voice unfamiliar to you asked. you whipped your head to the direction of the question. your jaw dropped. you had no idea who the guy on the wheel was. his big hyena ears flicked as he gave you a toothy grin.

“aw, you done talkinʼ? but we were only gettin' to the good part!” he said, teasing with a snicker and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. thakfully, the cold the rainy weather brought could make a good cover for the sudden flush of your face.

you whipped your head around, the reality of barging into a stranger's car and suddenly bursting out all your frustration in the ugliest form of word vomit started to sink in. you sputtered out, “s-sorry. i got in the wrong car. i was expecting someone else. i'll go—”

but just as you reached for the door handle, a streak of bright light, followed by the booming sound of thunder flashed up on the sky and you quickly drew back.

this was not your day.

“a bit dangerous to get out of the car,” the brunette in the driver seat said, his hand reaching to shift gears, “usually i'd ask ya to pay, but...” he turned around to the backseat and you followed his gaze which led to the form of a child in the backseat. his deep emerald eyes fixed directly at you. the sound of his tail hitting the leather seats mixed with the heavy patter of rain on the car roof. and then he broke out to a grin.

“who are you?!” the child exclaimed excitedly, shooting up from his seat and throwing himself between the driver's and passenger's seat.

“easy, cheka,” the driver said to the child, “don't go on screaming at them now.”

the hyena boy looked over to you this time, “if you can keep him entertained throughout the whole ride, i'll drive you home, free of charge.”

you weren't able to decline after your friend messaged you that they were too scared to keep driving while there was thunder and lightning so you agreed and kept the little boy named cheka entertained. he showed you his I.D. which you took a picture of and sent to your friends and family for safety reasons and you learned the driver's name is ruggie bucchi. it turns out they stopped by this cafe everytime he came to pick cheka up from school. ruggie does it for cheka's uncle, which the little lion talked about in abundance. but because of the heavy rain, they weren't able to leave the car.

“i knew i wouldn't be able to get out of the car in all this rain,” said ruggie, “but sure wasn't expectin' anyone to get in. shishi.” he said with a cheeky laugh and you could all but blush in embarrassment.

throughout the car ride, you learned more about him. he would always answer cheka with patience, ask you if you were cold and want the heating on higher and sometimes tease you whenever you flinched at the thunderclaps. despite his sly demeanor, ruggie was pretty nice and his company was pleasant. he was funny, too which added to his charm.

cheka talked the whole ride through which madethe atmosphere in the car much more delightful in contrast to the gloomy weather outside and before you realized it, ruggie had pulled the car over to where you lived.

“here,” the hyena boy said pulling a folded umbrella from under his seat, “use this.” he handed you the umbrella and you gave him a smile.

“i'm not giving that to you, though.” he added hastily. “i'll be collecting that tomorrow at the cafe. i expect to see you there.” he gave a toothy grin before unlocking the door on your side of the car.

“and i promise i won't stand you up like the person from your dating app.”

jack howl ‹ savanaclaw ›

the time on your watch read 1:15 am but you find yourself, eyes wide open and staring blankly at the shelves lined with rows of toilet paper inside your local supermarket like some lost puppy who wandered into a random building.

the isles were almost completely empty save for one or two nigh shift workers here and there and the occasional customer who had the same balls of steel as you to be out at 1 am.

for a while it was just you, the music from your headphones and the wall of toilet paper as you went through your list of other items to buy. then felt the metallic clanking of shopping cart wheels on the floor and felt the presence of someone behind you. they seemed to be picking out something from the shelves you had your back to. you didn't really give it any further thought. just another customer who preferred the dead quiet 1 am brought into the supermarket, you supposed.

you gave a small glance at the piece of paper on your hand and with one swift motion, crossed out the words 'ass wipers' from your list before you took a pack of three toilet paper rolls and tossed it over to your cart. grocery shopping in the unholy hours of the night—or morning, really—had plenty of perks. less people, less copetition on the soap detergents, less chances of having run-ins with karens, you get in and get out quickly. there's the risk of getting murdered on your way to your car in the parking lot, but really, when is there not? that can happen even during the day. and unfortunately for them, you haven't been murdered just yet and so you keep coming back at the midnight hours to buy your everyday needs.

besides, what were you going to do at home, anyway? stare endlessly at the ceiling for hours because sleep just wouldn't take you? yeah, might as well do something productive.

placing your hand on your cart, you started pushing it forward with you.

for a while you pushed your cart around, not really in a hurry to get the things you needed. you liked strolling along the isle with your music blasting in your ears. you softly hummed as you reached the chips section. you broke into a grin as you reached for the bag of corn chips. but before you could grab it, you felt a large hand on your shoulder and you let out a loud yelp.

you quickly whipped your body around and bumped into the shelves behind you, causing a couple of bags of chips to rain down on you.

before you was a towering man with wolf ears, occasionally flicking and his tail wagging behind him. you didn't move from your spot—like a cornered animal. dying in the parking lot is one thing, but dying in the junk food isle is a whole different story! maybe you could negotiate to at least move to the vegetable area before this massive hunk of a man pummeled you to death.

he mouthed something but you couldn't hear. for a second you were confused before he pointed at his ear and you realized you still had your headphones on.

you scrambled to remove them from your ears and the sound of his deep voice echoed through the area.

“sorry for startling you,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic, “i called out to you earlier but you had headphones on.”

“oh, sorry. did you need anything?” you asked and he nodded in response.

he pointed to the shopping cart beside you, “you have my cart.”

surprised, you looked at the card beside you and sure enough, a lot of the contents were not things you put in your cart earlier. the man pulled a cart beside him and looked over at you.

“i have yours here. we must have swapped earlier when we were in the same isle.”

your face flushes in embarrassment, realizing how much you didn't pay attention to your surroundings. apologies rolled out your tongue but he didn't seem to mind as much. in fact, he was nice enough to even help you pick up the fallen bags of chips from your little mini heart attack earlier.

you and the stranger parted ways and you didn't run into him for the rest of your shopping. not until you'd paid for your groceries and making your way out the door did you hear someone call out to you.

you turned around to see the same man walking toward you right from another counter. you waited for him by the door as he carried his groceries and jogged toward you.

“sorry for calling out to you again.” he said before scrambling through one of his grocery bags. you couldn't help another wave of embarassment wash over you when he pulled out a set of toilet paper rolls. you internally murdered yourself.

“sorry,” you stammered out, reaching for the pack, “i'll pay you back for this.”

he shook his head, “it's alright. it's not a big deal.” he let out a small smile as he adjusted his bags in his arms.

“thank you, sir.”

“jack.”

“jack.” you repeated with a smile, “thank you, jack.”

you introduced yourself as well out of courtesy and he gave a small 'nice to meet you' before offering, “i can walk you back to your car if you want. it's not really safe out there around these hours.” he said, ears perked up and alert as he looked out at the parking lot and you couldn't help a small chuckle.

“sure. i don't mind some company.”

the walk to your across the parking lit consisted of delightful conversation with jack. you found out he recently started grocery shopping at night because of the same reasons as you.

“so does this mean we'll see each other often?” you teased as he helped you place your grocery bags in the trunk.

“if we choose to shop at the same hour, maybe we'll run into each other.” he said, taking the question seriously causing you to smile.

“well, i always go around these hours,” you tell him, “and i don't mind having someone to chat with while i pick out my toilet papers.” you joke, waving the pack around and eliciting a laugh from him.

jack let out a sharp, toothy grin and closed your trunk for you, “that's a plan, then.”

note: please do not drink strangers' coffees, get in random strangers' cars or talk to strangers in the grocery at night. this is purely a work of fiction and it's much more dangerous irl. always be mindful of your surroundings and protect yourself. be careful and stay safe, everyone!

© merotwst 2023 | do not translate, plagiarize or reproduce without permission.

#. merowrites #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #jack howl x reader #jack x reader #jack howl #twst jack #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x reader #twst ruggie #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twst leona #twstnexus

[natalievoncatte]

This ficlet is a scene from a high school AU. A high school AU that doesn’t exist yet because I haven’t written it and between the pirate AU and another I’m working on, it’ll be a while before I get to it.

It’s still living in my head and it needs to be free.

Tonight. She was going to tell Lena tonight. She had to, because if she kept this secret another day, another hour, another minute, she would die. There was never going to be another night so perfect as this one. The sky was clear over their heads and ablaze with stars, the moon hiding her face in shadow.

Kara wished Lena could see it the way she saw it, see the waves of particles scattering across the upper atmosphere and the glory of the stars.

“I wish I could share it with you.”

Lena made a soft sound. She lay back against Kara, sitting in the sand between Kara’s legs. They were a good mile up the beach, far from where anyone would find them, warmed by the fire Kara had started.

“Share what?” said Lena.

“The sky. I wish I could give you the sky.”

Lena shifted where she sat, turning in Kara’s lap to lean her head on Kara’s shoulder and look up at her. Lena was so beautiful that there were no words in English that could express what Kara felt when she looked at her. Green eyes flickered in glow from the fire, their boundless depths alive with yet more light than the endless tide of stars above their heads.

Sitting there in Kara’s sweatshirt, her hands tucked inside the sleeves for warmth, she was everything. Kara gently, experimentally, brought a hand up to draw a stray lock of curly dark hair away from Lena’s face. It was crossing the line, but they’d crossed the line so many times during these last weeks of summer, the line itself had been scratched to nothing.

Lena still stared directly into Karan’s eyes, emerald vistas more spectacular than any vista on any world she’d traveled. Kara adored her, everything about her, from the soft dimples that formed when she laughed to the way she could solve calculus problems in her head.

She wondered if Lena would have been matched to her on Krypton. She didn’t think she cared what a machine would think.

“Kara?” Lena whispered, tilting her chin up, inviting. Anticipating.

It was the most natural thing in the world for the hand that tamed the stray locks to now take Lena’s chin in the softest grip, for the other hand that rested on her thigh to slide up and take a possessive hold on her hip. It was like gravity drawing time together as Lena’s soft lips met hers.

The kiss was soft, halting, as much a question as an answer, and yet in that soft brushing of lips upon lips, a simple close-mouthed peck on the lips, a declaration was made. Lena almost went limp as she relaxed, safe for the hand that reached up to gently gather Kara’s neck and offer a silent affirmation for her to continue.

The fire was low by the time Kara knew they had to go. They walked up the beach together towards where Lena had parked them.

“What are we going to do?” Lena asked.

It was as much that question that brought them back to the real world, as it was the asphalt of the roadside pull-off. The question had been hanging over them like a deadly weight for weeks. Lena was going to MIT. Kara was going to NCU. There would be three thousand miles between them, and worse than that, no more sneaking around Midvale, free Lena’s parents watching them.

“Anything,” Kara said. “I won’t give up on us, ever.”

Lena said nothing, looking a little green now as she took the wheel of her Mercedes, a gift from her father before he died.

Kara sat beside her and kept the silence, but couldn’t take her eyes from Lena.

So, she almost didn’t see it coming.

High beams flicked on behind them, Lena crying out from the blinding flash in her rear view mirror. There was a sickening crunch as the car slammed into Lena’s bumper, and the driver was twisting the wheel.

“He’s trying to run us off the road,” Kara said, too calm.

“Hold on.”

Lena was a skilled driver, as capable as she was in everything she did. It didn’t matter. They were driving along a cliff overlooking the beach, a good fifty foot drop to the sand below.

There was no time. The car rammed them again, and Lena screamed, her cries turning to pure terror as the car turned against her will at the jarring impact. It spun, the world flailing crazily around them, and then came the inevitable lurch as the Mercedes careened over the shoulder and began to roll.

Kara threw herself across the gap between them, pulling Lena into a fetal position, shielding her with her own back. The car slammed onto its roof and Kara grunted as the struts gave way and sheet metal pancaked against her. Lena was screaming, clutching Kara with such a painful desperation.

The car rolled and rolled, crushing in around them. Finally, it stopped, settling on its roof, against a dune. Lena gasped, drawing in a shocked breath.

“What… how…”

“Hush,” Kara murmured. “I have you.”

Lena looked into Kara’s eyes.

Kara… flexed. She planted her feet on the roof and pushed, digging her back into the console. Lena clutched her tighter as the wreckage shifted, the entire chassis of the car rising as Kara stood, finally releasing her arms from Lena’s body. She put her palms against the wreckage and braced her back and pushed.

With a shriek of protesting metal, the entire car lifted over her head. Kara rose to her full height, two tons of steel and plastic resting on her palms as she easily raised it above her head.

She threw it, heaving it away. It crash landed in the sand a dozen yards away, carving a crater in the earth as it landed.

“There they are!” a voice called. “What the hell?”

Kara knew that voice. Otis Graves. One of Lex Luthor’s thugs.

“Who cares? Boss said to finish them. Shoot her.”

“Kara, get-“

Muzzle flashes lit the night. Kara stood her ground. The bullets struck her skin with soft, almost metallic pings. Kara reached down and plucked a bullet from the air, half a foot from Lena’s head. She screamed.

Lena’s terrified cry drove her over the edge. She crossed the gap between her and the two thugs in half a second, her eyes blazing with red sun fire. Kara slapped the gun out of Graves’s hand, curling it into a useless ball of twisted steel before it hit the ground.

Then, she grabbed him by the throat, hauled him up, and threw him. He rolled across the sand, crying out as a bone crunched in the landing. The man with him simply screamed Jesus Christ! and broke into a run.

“Kara? Kara!” Lena shouted, “oh my God, you’ve been shot! They shot you!”

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

Kara slipped her arms under Lena and lifted her easily from the sand.

“Put your arms around my neck, and hold on,” she said, taking Lena in a bridal carry. “I’m taking you back to my house. We need help. Eliza will know what to do.”

“How? Kara, we’re an hour away by car!”

“Do you trust me?”

Lena pressed tightly against her, shaking.

“I will always protect you,” Kara promised. “Always.”

“I trust you.”

Kara flew.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #teen au #high school au #just a scene stuck in my head #Kara will always protect Lena #identity reveal #is it still an identity reveal if she’s not actually supergirl yet?

[thel0llip0p]

A World Without Sonic

a sonadow prime ficlet, you can guess what it's about.

**disclaimer: i'm not a writer and I did not proofread it lol. this was the idea for my next comic but i got lazy to draw it so i wrote it out instead for now.

tags? sonadow , character death/mourning, platonic shadamy, mention of: tails, knuckles, rouge, big, eggman

____________________

Shadow finds himself in the last spot he was in right before the prism shattering, his arms held out and empty where the blue hedgehog once was, feeling disoriented for only a split second.

The cave!

Wasting no time, the black hedgehog dashes away making his way up to his destination. His heart racing wondering if Sonic made it alive and intact. A pit in his stomach grew on his way over, fearing the outcome. Like Schrödinger's cat, unfortunately there was only one way to find out, whether he liked it or not.

He makes his grand appearance at the mouth of the cave, and without thinking calls out

"Sonic!"

"Shadow??"

His heart dropped. At the scene, Eggman and Sonic's friends all staring blankly at him, both parties equally confused. But sonic was nowhere in sight.

This left him no choice.

"Chaos Control!"

and he disappeared just like that, along with the Paradox Prism.

___

Warping to a secluded location unbeknownst to anyone except himself, he sheltered the prism.

I guess this will have to do for now.

Against his will, he supposed he'd have to be the guardian of this thing for now, not unlike a certain echidna and the master emerald but he knew he couldn't entrust the prism with anyone else other than himself.

Now that the prism was taken care of for now, he could finally think about the burden on his mind.

Sonic...

Did he really not make it ?

He refused to believe that the bundle of blue joy was no longer in existence. He couldn't leave things at that, this warranted further investigation.

He needed answers now.

And he first person that came to mind was...

____

"I really... don't know who you are talking about?" Tails pondered with a hand to his chin. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Shadow?"

"The name Sonic doesn't ring a bell? Really? Your blue hedgehog best friend? Try to remember."

"I feel like, it's supposed to be familiar but I don't really know. Nothing comes to mind. Sor-"

"Never mind, then."

Shadow walked away.

"Umm.. okay?" Tails shrugged him off, thought left a little dumbfounded.

On to the next one..

_____

"Hey redhead, where's your blue friend Sonic?"

"What did you call me?!" Knuckles didn't take so kindly to the nicknames and much less being interrupted during his midday nap.

"Where's Sonic?"

"Don't know 'im"

He sighed defeatedly and took his leave.

______

Tails didn't know. Knuckles didn't know.

Big and Rouge didn't know either.

Of course Sonic isn't going to be anywhere. He's not here. It's like he never existed. And even knowing this was venture was fruitless, he felt the need to ask everyone anyway, as if he was holding out hope for something.

How stupid. This behaviour wasn't like him.

And there was only one last person left, the only person who could possibly understand even a tiny bit how he felt.

____

"Oh Shadow nice to see you around. You don't normally stroll around so casually, did you need something?" Amy, oh so very cheerful as always.

"Have you seen Sonic?" Shadow was straight to the point.

"Sonic? Ummm.." she gave it some thought. She felt like she was supposed to know who that was and although she didn't, it did make her heart flutter a bit. "Is he your friend?"

"No, he's not my friend, just someone I'm looking for."

"Oh... well I noticed you've been asking and searching around endlessly. He must be someone important to you."

"...Yeah, I guess so." He melancholically looked off into the distance.

The two of them were sitting on a hill with a nice view of the green hill landscape.

"If you don't mind, can you tell me more about Sonic? Who was he? What happened?"

"He... was a hero, your friend.. everyone's friend.." he trailed off.

"..And I couldn't save him."

Tears began to well as he began to recall his last memories of their adventure together. A surge of pain growing in his chest and his suppressed feelings beginning to surface.

Amy turned to Shadow, concern on her face. He was normally never vulnerable with anyone but in this moment, for some reason he felt like he could confide in Amy with this. Even if he couldn't delve into detail.

"He sacrificed himself to save the universe, and now he doesn't exist and no one remembers him... except me." He did his best to hold back his emotions.

She listened to him with sympathy in her eyes.

"A world without Sonic, is not the same world at all. I can't imagine a world without him, and here I am. Here's not here anymore." Brushing away the tears, he turned away to hide his face from her.

Amy wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug.

"It's okay Shadow. I'm sure it's not your fault.

Knowing you, you probably did everything you could to try to save him. And surely Sonic is thankful for your effort."

He wanted to believe her but his emotions only welled further.

"It wasn't enough... I wasn't enough, and now he's gone. Forever."

She stroked his back, trying to comfort best as she could.

"As long as you remember him in your heart, he exists and lives on in your heart."

At this point , Shadow was basically crying into her shoulders, and although it was extremely embarrassing he couldn't help himself. The tears flowed like rivers, mourning the loss of the only hedgehog he saw as his equal, rival, possibly friend?

How could he live on like this ? First Maria, now Sonic.

His feelings of remorse, hopelessness and sorrow overwhelming him.

When would it end?

Amy's embrace brought him comfort, but oh how he wished he was in Sonic's instead.

He felt his sense of self drifting away until everything became black.

"Shadow?"

"Shadow ?"

Amy's voice tried to reach him but her voice sounding increasingly faint.

____

"Shadow ?"

A familiar voice...

"Hey you okay?"

"Nngh"

Slowly opening his eyes, he saw emerald green eyes looking down at him and a blur of blue and sunshine.

"S-sonic?" A sudden wave of relief came over him.

He sat up. "You're okay?"

"Of course I am?

He realized he had been sleeping on Sonic's lap? And oh, there was remnants of tears on his face?

"What was that about? Bad dream got ya?" Sonic teased as he layed back against a palm tree, hands behind his head.

Shadow sighed. "Guess you could say that," rubbing the back of his neck.

"I dreamt... you didn't make it back to Green Hill and everyone had forgotten about you. It's like you never existed."

"Oh you missed me so much you started crying in your sleep? Aww-"

Shadow grabbed his face with his hand, squishing his cheeks "Shut it, you." And kissed him.

"I'm just glad you're okay."

And the two resumed their peaceful afternoon by the beachside.

#sonadow #sonic prime #sonadow prime #fanfic #fanfiction #sonadow fanfiction #platonic shadamy #dropping this here and forgetting abt it bye #u kno its bad when an artist writes fanfic

[serenescribe]

(For Ficlet Frenzy)

Lilia had to go on yet another long mission but not without entrusting his infant son’s safety to Malleus and his fairy godmother Queen Maleficia. Malleus has to tend to his lessons for the afternoon so the queen watches over the baby.

By the time Malleus finishes his lessons and Lilia returns she does not want to part from the baby she grew so fond of- so much so that she has gone full grandmother mode and tries to keep Silver with her.

(Please make this super fluffy and cute!! I need to be nuked with cuteness)

[✐] ficlet frenzy note: this was written before chapter 7 part 6!

“Malleus. Where is Silver?”

Footsteps echo in the empty hall as Lilia strides down it, heart thumping against his chest as though rattling against jail bars. Even now, so many years later, he cannot help the pinpricks of anxiety that spike his blood at the thought of approaching her Majesty for anything; even if the queen places a great deal of trust in Lilia, continuing to call upon his assistance in spite of his retirement, it is still daunting to stand under her sharp gaze, emerald-green eyes that seem to pierce his very soul.

He’d left Silver in Malleus’ care when leaving for this trip — and to a greater extent, the queen’s as well, for this was her castle, after all.

So how had things escalated to the extent where Malleus was no longer Silver’s primary caretaker?

Before he realises it, he’s reached the end of the hallway. Lilia stares up at the tall oak doors looming over him. For the first time in quite a while, he feels small again, as though he has shrunken to insignificance, his power diluted and severed.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Lilia raises a fist, and knocks three times.

And after a while, he hears it: “You may enter.”

“Your Majesty,” Lilia greets as he pushes open the doors to the old nursery. Once, it had been a space for Malleus, the young prince living in it for many decades until he outgrew his nest and moved into sprawling chambers of his own. But now, a new life has been breathed into it: a cradle takes up the centrepiece of the room, a hand-crafted mobile spinning lazily above it, with dangling charms of dragons circling round and round. The rest of the room is taken up by deceptively simple wooden furniture, minimalistic in their appearance, yet sporting elegant carvings — such as the open toy box Lilia’s eyes flick to, numerous toys spread out across the carpeted-covered floor.

And what a sight it is, to bear witness to the Queen Maleficia, great ruler of Briar Valley, sitting on the floor and cooing at a human infant stacking wooden blocks! She scarcely pays Lilia any mind as he lingers awkwardly in the doorway, instead clapping her hands together as Silver finishes stacking a block. “Oh, how smart you are, my little sunshine!” she praises, reaching to wrap her clawed hands under Silver’s arms — a sight that makes Lilia wince, mind flashing through worst-case scenarios of claws slicing flesh — before lifting him up in the air. “You learn so quickly for a human,” she coos as Silver babbles excitedly, chubby fingers reaching for her horns.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Queen Maleficia raises Silver a little away from her, clicking her tongue. “Naughty, naughty! What have I said about touching my horns, hm, my sweet potato?” It is nigh miraculous that her voice lacks any semblance of anger or irritation, instead flooded with a sickening fondness; to touch the horns of royalty is a blatant breach of boundaries at best, and a crime punishable by death at worst. “I understand that they are quite beautiful,” Maleficia says, voice slicked with pride, “but they are truly sensitive, dear Silver; why not play with this instead?”

He watches as she places Silver down onto the mat before pressing another toy — a wooden dragon littered with scorch marks, making it clear who it used to belong to — into his hands. It is only when Silver is giggling and moving the wooden beast back and forth in the air that Lilia clears his throat, making his presence clear.

The change is instantaneous. As soon as Maleficia lays her eyes on him, her face twists into cool, impassive neutrality, the regal expression of an experienced queen. “Vanrouge,” she greets, her reserved voice a stark contrast to the babbling baby beside her, and her earlier display of sickening sweetness. “So you’ve returned.”

“Your Majesty,” Lilia repeats again. Sweat beads along the back of his neck, but he will not back down; he has to bring his child home, after all. “I thank you and Prince Malleus for taking such good care of Silver in my absence. However, I best be bringing him home now—”

“No.”

He blinks. “I— pardon?”

“Why not stay a while longer, Vanrouge?” Maleficia asks, turning away from him, her face breaking into yet another smitten smile as she reaches for Silver, ruffling his hair as he babbles excitedly at her. Lilia squints; did Silver just call her Malfi?! “There is no rush for you both to return home, is there? Besides, a growing boy like you, my tiny snowball—” She reaches to tickle him, causing Silver to erupt into a giggling fit, tumbling back onto the floor as he squeals excitedly, “—needs excellent food to grow strong and healthy.” Her eyes flick back to Lilia, and he feels pinned to the spot. “Is that not right, Vanrouge?”

“...I could not possibly deny such a generous request, my queen,” Lilia eventually forces out, eyes flicking between Silver and Maleficia.

“Good, good.” With two claps of her hand, Maleficia smiles at him. “I shall see you at dinner then, hm? Do not be late, Vanrouge.”

“I shall not. But… Queen Maleficia—”

“Yes?”

“I would quite like to… spend some time with my child.”

Lilia stares at Silver, silently pleading with him to glance over at Lilia and call out for him, only to be silently betrayed when the infant calls again for “Malfi!” Curses, he thinks, as Maleficia answers the call with a joyful vigour. Silver, how could you…!

“We shall see you at dinner, Vanrouge,” Maleficia answers smoothly, not even looking at him anymore. “Do pardon me for wishing to spend some time with my godson before he leaves, would you?”

And Lilia has no room to reply.

#my writing tag #ficlet frenzy #surprisingly i don't think there's any ch7 spoilers for this #twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfiction #twst writing #lilia vanrouge #queen maleficia #twst silver #malleus mention but he doesn't show up rip #THIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE PART 6 DROPPED AUGHGHHGHTHTGHGHFHG #queued posts

[leiascully]

Ficlet prompt. Black

Be well soon

What had leached the color from her wardrobe? Was it Missy's funeral, too soon after her father's? Maybe the shadows they walked in soaked into her suits until wool and silk and polyester all took on the same somber hue. She didn't remember making a decision to buy black and white and grey to the exclusion of all others, but when she opened her closet, it was 50s noir. Every so often, she ran across a relic of her past: a cardigan set in robin's egg blue; an emerald green sweater; a ruby red blouse. It was hard to remember the Dana who had bought those. Dana before cancer. Dana before Emily and William. Dana before losing Mulder: to Diana, so nearly, and again in the woods of Oregon, and again as they sat slightly too far apart in their house in Virginia.

Black was severe. It served her purpose. Pain had honed her to an obsidian edge. Black showed the glint of it.

She closed her closet door and wrapped herself in a soft grey robe the color of rain.

#my fic sort of #thanks for the prompt!

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Masterlist of Fictional Fancies

Bridgerton x Reader Series/Multichapter

Love to Spare (Anthony & Benedict, regency, romance) Touch (Benedict, regency, romance)

Young At Heart (Benedict, regency, fluff & romance)

The Field (Benedict, modern, lifelong romance)

Chiaroscuro (Benedict, vampire AU, angst & romance)

Standalone fics

These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You) (Benedict, modern, romance)

I'll Be Seeing You (Benedict, zombie AU, angst)

Almost Home (Benedict, modern, fluff & feels)

Two Lines (Benedict, modern, domestic fluff)

Locked Out (Anthony, modern, smut & humor)

Gala (Anthony, modern, suggestive humor)

Slide (Benedict, modern, whump & romance)

Still Going (Anthony, regency, feels and romance)

Earned (Benedict, modern, smut)

Take Me Instead (Anthony, modern, angst)

Benedict Bridgerton and family Series/Multichapter

A Brother's Love (regency, fluff & angst)

Willow Bark (regency, whump & angst)

Let Me Be Your Anchor - AOFAG reimagined

Chapter 16: Teatime

Standalone fics

Number Ten (regency, whump & angst)

Waking (ficlet, regency, Benophie)

The Night We Met (ficlet, regency, Benophie)

The Hunting Party (regency, action)

Emerald (ficlet, modern, angst)

Fever. Dream. (regency, romance, hurt/comfort, Benophie)

Marzipan (regency, fluff, Anthony)

New Crowns (regency, fluff and feels)

Priceless (regency, family feels, Anthony)

Through the Storm (ficlet, regency, A&B angst)

Blessed (regency, family feels, Benedict, Anthony)

A Special Day (ficlet, modern, Anthony, fluff)

A Bridgerton Carol (regency, Anthony & Benedict, Christmas, feels)

Magic in Our Bones - Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett smut

The Fireside

The Balcony

The Palace

Video Edits

The Bridgerton Brothers Detective Agency

Second Son - inspired

Double Bind - inspired

Succour - inspired

(Be)Longing - inspired

Benedict & Queen Charlotte

💙to be added to taglist(s), just ask! 💙

Find me on AO3

benophie_pie on IG (and TikTok) for more nonsense

#masterlist #fic masterlist #fanfiction masterlist #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton

[lady-rose-moon]

You're losing me || Loki song ficlet ||

A/N: I'm so sorry, I had to.

↣ MASTERLIST

“May I take your hand, my lady?” his voice rang in your ears before you could even process that he had stopped in front of you. 

Your wedding day to Loki was perfect, so many people attended and they were all there for you, to celebrate your union and the future that you would spend with the man before you.

Happily, you took the prince’s hand and allowed him to guide you into the centre of the room to perform the first dance, seamlessly falling into your positions as he began to lead the dance. 

The moment was breathtaking as you and Loki glided across the floor, your dress swirling around as you moved, the smile on your face illuminating the room as you stared into his eyes. His emerald eyes never looked away from yours, never wavered.

His hand was firm on your hip as he lead you across the dance floor, the delight showing in his posture and how he held you.

Say my name and everything just

Everything faded around you as you were back on the Statesman, staring up at Thanos holding his body.

Stop, you’re losing me

Your body froze, tears building in your eyes as you stared in shock, sword clanging to the floor.

Stop, you’re losing me

“No more ressurrections.” He said before throwing Loki to Thor’s feet.

Your heart shattered, your feet rushing over to the God of Thunder and your dead husband.

Stop, you’re losing me.

Your fingers reached for his neck, trying to find a pulse but there wasn’t one.

I can’t find a pulse, my heart won’t beat anymore… for you.

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loki-laufeyson-1054 @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @anukulee @eleniblue

#loki x reader #tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #loki #loki (marvel) #loki x you #imagines #loki angst #you're losing me #i'm sorry

[duskspring]

Poker Night - Secondo/GN!Reader Ficlet

On this clear night, the moon big in the sky, all the papas have gathered around a table for another one of their famous game nights. A few drinks have gone around already and if it wasn’t for Secondo’s big hand on your waist you’d probably have swayed off of his lap already.

His free hand holds a cigar and reaches for his whiskey glass on the table from time to time. He’s focused on the game, squeezing your body in a silent warning every time you start squirming too much. But it’s hard. He’s so close and warm and you need him. Any focus you had to give to the Lucifer knows how manyeth round of poker has long since disappeared. You just want to lay in bed with him, wishing to hold him close without that impossibly expensive, emerald green suit he wore in between you. Although, it isn’t a sight you would usually complain about. He was undeniably breathtaking.

Your head lands on his shoulder with a soft whine. His chest spasms with a briefly chuckle, the most notable reaction he has awarded you with all night. His hand moves a little lower to the side of you ass, causing you to start planting sloppy kisses along his neck.

He’s unresponsive for a little longer, always way to good at acting nonchalant at your advances. You swear, if he doesn’t start wrapping this up soon-

“Finito.” He says victoriously. That paired with Terzo’s quiet grumbling must mean that Secondo won the round.

He taps you twice. You follow the implied command and sit up straight again, both arms finding their way around his neck for added stability and contact. He makes unwavering eye contact with you while slowly picking up his glass and bringing it to his mouth. Then all of a sudden he’s moving fast, quicker than your tipsy brain can keep up with. The sound of the glass being roughly put back down is drowned out by the hand on the back of your head, forcing yours lips onto his. You immediately open your mouth for a deeper kiss, but don’t expect him to spit the burning alcohol straight into it. It takes a second to respond, by which time the drink is already setting the inside of your mouth on fire. You pull away in shock, making sure to close your mouth and quickly swallow.

He watches you carefully to make sure you’re okay, more surprised than he should be when you dive back in for another searing kiss. He tastes like a mix of whiskey and cigar smoke. The grimy flavors of his fancy lifestyle fuse together to create a detailed portrait of everything he is. You move on his lap, no longer sitting sideways but straddling him. The others in the room are forgotten about. Terzo would most likely have made a comment already if it wasn’t for the quintessence ghoul who’s lap he had found his place on top of.

Regardless, you don’t pay the outside world any mind in the moment. The extra sip of liquor makes your head swim, lost in strong aftertastes, groping hands and the strong musk of Secondo’s cologne.

No further rounds are played that night.

#this scenario just popped into my mind and I HAD to note it all down #Song inspiration and recommendation; Heavy Metal Lover by Lady Gaga #the band ghost fanfiction #papa secondo #ghost bc #papa terzo #omega ghoul #nameless ghouls #terzomega #ghost fanfiction #papa ii #papa iii #ficlet #the band ghost #papa emeritus secondo #papa emeritus the third #the band ghost fic

[soulofamy]

I HAVE AN ASHZOTH IDEA 🙋‍♂️

in the customization menu in mk1 all the roster members have their idle animations, and in syzoth’s he just kinda stands there while glancing around— but his fingers twitch a lot?? it’s a small detail that not a lot of people catch but it’s cute. anyways back to the ashzoth: i was thinking that ashrah would notice that one day and take interest in why syzoth’s fingers twitch the way they do. she’d definitely find it endearing, especially since it just seems to be a subconscious thing he does, and maybe it could lead to some hand-holding or something…. idk does that make sense

if you will, allow me to turn that into a little ficlet

It was during a training exercise when she noticed it, the small twitches of Syzoth's fingers as he stood in anticipation. Though he was not a student at the Wushi Academy, Syzoth was still welcome to join in on training whenever he pleased. He was Ashrah's preferred sparring partner.

Master Kai felt that it was important that Ashrah train more in her hand to hand combat. In his opinion, she relied too much on Datusha. She and Syzoth stood in the courtyard, standing opposite one another. Her eyes, as dark as the midnight sky, traced over his form. He stood at attention, with his hands loosely curled in front of him. With the way his fingers twitched, Ashrah could tell his senses were as sharp as ever. With a calming breath, she lunged forward for the first strike.

They gave their best efforts during this spar, but to any spectators passing by, they almost appeared to be dancing. Exhiliration coursed through her veins, both because of the fast pace at which they moved and because of the thought that at this moment, Ashrah had Syzoth's undivided attention.

They sat together against a nearby wall after their spar. Ashrah's legs were crisscrossed and Syzoth sat with one of his knees bent, his corresponding wrist resting on top of it. As Ashrah listened to him speak, she couldn't help but become entranced by the rhythmic twitching of his fingers.

"Why do you do that?" Ashrah cut him off.

Syzoth gave her a puzzled look. "...do...what?"

"That," she said, nodding her head in the direction of his hand. To illustrate, she held up her own hand to imitate the movements. "Are your fingers cramped?"

Syzoth frowned somewhat before holding his hand up to inspect. "I...don't know..." he responded with a cautious tone before returning his hand to its spot on his knee. This time, his fingers were still. "I suppose it's always something I've done...though I never paid much mind to it." The faintest shade of emerald kissed his cheeks. "...why do you ask? Is there-" a loud clatter from afar cut Syzoth off and drew his attention. His posture stiffened as he sat up and his pupils shrunk as he looked over at a student who had dropped the bundle of bo staffs he was carrying.

Ashrah's eyes moved from the student back to Syzoth. Once again, his fingers began to rhythmically twitch. The pieces fell into place in Ashrah's mind. Ever the battle-ready warrior, Syzoth.

Syzoth sighed and looked back at Ashrah. "Sorry," he said with a shake of his head. "I was going to ask, is there something wrong with it?"

Her lips spread into a smile and she shook her head. She sat up and turned to face him fully before bringing her hand up to join his on his knee, interlacing her fingers between his. "Not at all. I was merely curious."

#ironladders #mortal kombat #ashrah #reptile #syzoth #zothrah #ashzoth #angelscales #ashrah x syzoth #syzoth x ashrah #sorry this took so long!! #i hope you like it

[naffeclipse]

29 perhaps? I think it would be fun

“Let’s play a game.”

Detective!Sun & Detective!Moon x Vigilante!Reader (SFW)

“Ante up or fold,” says a low voice, smooth and dark, drawing out a special look in your eyes as you turn to face him. You toss in your chip, holding your cards carefully as you offer a sly smile to Detective Moon, but tonight, he’s dressed the part. In a pure black three-piece suit, a small bowtie included, he looks every bit as dark and scary as the other gamblers here. His fedora is now sleek and lacking any stars. He’s as dark as the night sky. If you didn’t know better, you’d say the shadow half of his face plate is hungry for a few wins tonight.

Warnings: Guns, slightly suggestive.

A/N: While musing over this drabble quickly turned ficlet, I listened to "A Night Like This" by Caro Emerald, which I highly recommend for some mood-setting music for this prompt!

#there's some illegal gambling #an ace hidden up a sleeve #an Italian card game played by a very interesting animatronic #and flirting #you can't forget the flirting in SJ #ao3 link #sleuth jesters #also boys in suits lets go! #different suits this time lol #and you get to wear a suit! #everyone gets a suit!

[nomorefstogive]

Our Dearest Sin: Chapter 2 "Eventually, We All Rest In An Oaken Casket.” 

Good evening dear readers, once again we bid you welcome to this mess of a fic of ours, with little else to say but that greeting, how about we go ahead and skip formalities and get started shall we?

Ah! We almost forgot, before we start this chapter we want to tell you all that if you ever want to use any of the ideas you see in this fic for some works of your own you are free to, so long as you let us know when it is done so we can see what you have made.

With that out of the way, let the show begin!

Also, @servalisms this is the Oak ficlet I mentioned.

Chapter 2: “Eventually, We All Rest In An Oaken Casket.” 

It was a multitude of things that contributed to a room possessing what could be dubbed a ‘Perfect’ atmosphere, however arbitrary and vainglorious such a descriptor was in the long run, for not one thing that exists in the plane of flesh and bone and blood and stone and steel can be labeled as perfect, yet the ambience of this room was a close contender.

The floor was of a stone that had been so meticulously cleaned that as opposed to its natural gray in coloration, it appeared to be more an off shadow of white, and so free of dirt and debris was it that one would be tempted to say it had been laid to the cold earth but that day were they none the wiser. 

Yet it was not the floor that so interested the arrival, rather it was what laid upon it, for before the door of heavy wood that lead into the room was a rug of dark emerald color, adorned with black and stark white designs depicting symbols and sigils who belonged to a language from realms beyond the White Sands, one whose name was known not to most including the arrival, yet well known was their meaning to the one who now stood upon the rug.

‘Beyond this point there lay the kingdom of bones. Silence here be thy virtue, disturb not those interred herein.’ 

As if in agreement with the rug there was no sound within the room, rather a total and perfect stillness held fast an iron grip to rival even the most power drunk of tyrants upon their nations over the room, so great was the stillness that for a moment the arrival dared not to breath for fear of upsetting some unseen threat should they do so.

Silently and carefully did they creep into the room, pausing but to remove their shoes and to sit them beside the door to the room as they turned to close the heavy wooden door, taking a moment to fiddle with the metal latch that adorned the dark wood as they did so, turning around to face the room in full but when they were certain the door was properly latched.

The walls, of the same stone as the floor, were similarly well maintained, though festooned were they with bookshelves and and sconces that held candles of a shade of white so pale that one would assume them to be bone were they not able to spot the beads of wax that dripped down the bone like candles and into the stained bronze sconces, the faintest smell of lavender and vanilla filling the room.

Cozy, that was such a word that under normal circumstances would describe the room, the dark wooden furniture of bookshelves and table and desk and chair, further accompanied by the carpentry station that lay against the leftmost wall, were all lovingly maintained and bore not even a speck of dust as they stood in stark contrasts to the pale stone.

Yet cozy the room seemed not, for the silence was to heavy, its weight to much for anyone to bear, there was no rustle of skirt and dress as one moved to and fro as they went about their activities, nor was the ancient brass gramophone filling the room, and hall beyond the stone walls, with haunting operas and soothing orchestras.

Indeed, the room could not be called cozy in this state, perhaps a more fitting word for it instead would be ominous, yes the ambience of this room was perfectly ominous indeed, for with the shadows cast by the candles seeming to be as writhing stygian limbs and digits that thrashed against the flickering flames for dominance over the room as they swarmed and writhed, coating all not touched by the warm light in a stygian morass that would have made lesser beings turn tail and flee from the sepulchral chamber could there be a more apt descriptor for the chamber?

Yet the arrival was of sterner stock, and so they silently crept around the room, navigating not by sight, but by memory as they did so, they turned to the side to avoid the chair that rested on the right side of the desk, and swayed just enough to avoid bumping into the stand the gramophone rested on as they neared the farthest corner of the room.

In dim candle light and writhing tenebrous feelers, that which laid there was all the more beautiful, the lacquered dark wood was mixed with cherry in a way that enveloped it in intricate designs made of the intersecting types of wood, the tarnished bronze hughes standing in rich contrast to the wood, though not as much as what lay within the object.

Rich white cloth was carefully inlaid within the box such that only the rim of the opening would be visible as wood from the inside, though such a thing would not be on the mind of the one who was laid upon the plush and pillow like fabric, nor would it be the weight of the gray and silver weighted blanket that would lay upon them, or the softness of the pillow below their head.

No, such things are as nothing to the dead after all. 

Indeed the arrival now stood before an intricately, dare one to say lovingly, carved coffin that dominated the space of the furthest most wall of the room from its position on the ground, its door ajar enough that the corpse that lay therein was visible to their blue-gray eyes. 

Even as they slumbered within the embrace of the coffin, the one within never ceased to steal the arrival’s breath from them.

Long locks of white hair with several streaks of black in it fell in a halo around their face, pale skin standing out in stark relief to the black gown that covered their body, visible but by the grace of their arms being crossed across their chest with their hands resting open just above their breasts.

The arrival idly reached out and laced their finger through their hair, delicately lifting the ivory locks to their lips to press a slight kiss to it as they inhaled the familiar scent of oak that accompanied the one before them, their eyes closing as they relished in the silken feel and scent of the locks for a moment before they tucked them back behind the ear of the one who rested within the coffin. 

Idly the arrival allowed their gaze to rake over the form of the resting figure, the weighted blanket and gown did little to hide the curves of the form, the tantalizing swell of full breast and of hips that beckoned for hands to caress them, of long legs that ached for the feeling of fingers and lips gliding across them in worship…

A low gulp resounded in the room like the crack of a rifle as the arrival delicately reached out their hand once more, gently cupping the skin of the figures cheek, trailing their thumb in small circles over it before they descended to trace down their neck as they lightly pressed their fingers against the bodies pulse point and-

A hand blurred with movement faster than the eye of any normal human could hope to perceive, cool skin meeting their own flushed flesh as they were pulled atop the formally still woman who rested within the coffin, mismatched eyes of bright green and violet slowly opening to gaze into startled blue-gray as dark lips curled into a soft smile as a throaty voice filled the room.

“Don’t you know dear one? Those who tamper with the dead, are bid to lay with them.” Barely had the words been registered by her mind when the young woman heard the door of the coffin close over them, the darkness that suddenly engulfed them broken but by the faint glow that seemed to emanate from the eyes of the woman who even now began to pull her close.

Dark lips ever so gently pressed against her own as glowing eyes became heavy lidded as blue-gray eyes fell close and pale lips eagerly surged forward to meet with the ones that pressed ever so gently against them, parting into a faint gasp as teeth nipped at the bottom lip, allowing for a tongue to slide into their mouth and begin to dance with their own as hands began to wander.

For moments there was not but a muffled moans as tongues dueled, though perhaps dueling was the wrong terms, for neither fought for victory and instead seemed to take turns exploring each mouth, at an unspoken sign one would wrap around the other and guide it into the opposing mouth so their dance could resume within a new ballet hall. 

Hands glided across bodies unseen, delicate caress and affectionate squeezes bringing forth yet more pleased sighs and moans that soon came to fill the coffin as the two writhed in their shared passion and delight, nerves coming alight with delight as hands began to grope and paw hungrily at bodies lost to the dark. 

Soon it was that the glowing eyes reopened to stare down into the similarly opened blue-gray eyes, their bodies having shifted such that those blue-gray eyes were now facing upwards into those glowing eyes, their blown pupils visible even in the darkness to the one who lazily began to palm the beast that rested above the thundering heart of her partner.

Idly the hand began to rub in circles, dark lips quirking up in delight as they both felt the hardness begin to rise as one of their partner’s nipple grew hard, but also heard their dulcet moans begin to fill their shared casket, their own arousal growing such that they let out a low groan as one of their hands drifted up and over skin yet concealed by far too much clothing to a gathering patch of dampness at the apex of unseen thighs. 

The breathy moan that echoed in the casket made the one whose fingers were idly caressing the gathering dampness bite their lip as hunger began to build and swell within them, the desire to devour the one below them till no more could they think or move and instead fell into the slumber of the dead alongside of them becoming too much for them to restrain any longer. 

“Let us hope you have nothing to do tomorrow my dear.” The throaty voice purred down to the young woman pinned beneath it as pale hands began to seize and pull at clothing till they could feel naked and flushed flesh writhing beneath them as their liver tried to conceal themselves in vain.

“Because you will not be walking out of here for quite a while, after all I have to punish you for disturbing my rest don’t I?” Those words brought forth a sharp gasp as a yet clothed leg moved to apply pressure to that damp center as dark lips descended once more, pausing but a hair's breadth from unseen ears as they spoke once more.

“Now dear Peresphone, let us see how much you can take shall we?” 

And with those words spoke, their lips descended once more as their hands began to knead and grope anew as moans filled the coffin till near when the sun had begun to rise, only then did they begin to die down into whimpers and groans of over exertion and pleas for mercy that were soon matched with coos of delicate affection as a flushed face was tucked into sweat covered breasts, hands delicately carding through blue-gray locks as humming filled the coffin. 

“Look at you my dear, all tuckered out.” Gently cooed the voice of Oak Casket as she gently stroked her lovers weary frame, smiling as she nuzzled into sweat slick locks as she felt Persephone latch onto her, lips fastened around her neck as she left yet another mark before hse pulled back and blinked up at Oak as she gave a low yawn.

“Oak…what time...is…” Her words trailed off as Oak Casket leaned down to offer a loving kiss, lightly caressing the Chief’s lips with her tongue before she pulled back, moving to cradle Persephone against her body and direct her to rest her head against her neck as she lifted the lid of her coffin.

“It is nearly time to rest my love, stay here a moment for me would you?” Oak asked to the woman draped over her, smiling at the low whine Persephone let out as she delicately moved her to rest atop the plush lining of her coffin as she gracefully rose from her coffin, uncaring of her nudity as she stretched for a moment before she reached into the casket and tucked the blankets over Persephone, smiling slightly at the scene and leaning down to press a kiss to the chief’s brow before she stood and moved into the shadows of her room. 

Perhaps she was gone a moment, or perhaps hours, Persephone could tell not, nor did she care for even a moment without feeling that ever so cool skin against her own and hearing the echoing of a powerful heart as hands caressed her was much to long for the chief, yet eventually she found herself drifting off from the weariness of the nights activities and into a blissful slumber.

Yet her slumber was not to be, for soon she felt weightlessness engulf her as she was lifted from the coffin by lean and powerful arms, tucked against a naked body as she was carried across the shadow laden room and to where a once concealed door had been opened to reveal a dimly lit bathroom.

Faintly her senses registered the smell of candles and steam blanketing the room, her blurry vision and weary mind registering as to just how perfectly the smell matched the ambiance of the shadows that were broken but by the flickering light of the candles that only faintly illuminated the room, faintly revealing a sink and a tub filled with water from whence the steam wafted. 

Soon she found herself drifting off again as she nuzzled into the body that held her close, awakening but when she felt herself being lowered into the water, yet still held in powerful arms as she found her body being caressed with a dampened cloth coated in a sweet smelling soap that aided in lulling her into keeping her eyes closed as she allowed herself to be pampered.

A low hum filling her ears alongside of the gentle sloshing and splashing of water as her body was cleaned, then her scalp was gently massaged as her hair was likewise cleaned, even the cascading of water brought over her body by a pitcher failed to make herrise from the haze of comforting bliss she was submerged within.

She was only able to rise from below those wondrous waves of bliss when she felt something smooth and cool placed against her lips, absently she opened them to feel something placed within her mouth as she began to chew what she recognized as a piece of an apple, a drink from a glass of grape juice soon being similarly swallowed as Oak tended to her until at last the plate beside the tub and the jug of grape juice were emptied. 

Soon thereafter Oak rose from the water, grasping a nearby blanket and beginning to dry herself off before she turned and pulled the plug out of the tub to allow it to begin draining as she lifted Persephone from the water, smiling to herself as she sat her down on a towel, her smile growing wider as she saw the chief try and nuzzle into the towel and pull it over herself like a blanket. 

Chuckling to herself, Oak gently began to dry Persephone off, smiling to herself at the mark she saw adorning the other woman’s body, the scratches and bite marks and hickeys and handprints, the sight making a feeling of satisfaction well within her, one that grew when she recalled that she shared those same marks all across her own form as well. 

Soon enough the chief was dried off, her weary frame lifted into Oak’s arms as she was carried back to the coffin and gently tucked in under the weighted blanket before Oak herself slipped in as well, holding Persephone to her in a firm and yet tender embrace as she laid one last kiss to her brow before she closed her eyes and joined her in blissful slumber, not to awaken till the sun was high in the sky and the day long begun.

Fin

#ptn oak casket #ptn female chief #cross posted on ao3 #path to nowhere #path to nowhere oak casket #path to nowhere chief #path to nowhere female chief #ptn

[serenescribe]

for the three sentence prompt, maybe malleus meeting silver for the first time?

[✐meme] three sentence fic meme [✐] ficlet frenzy

There are a great many emotions that spiral through Malleus' chest at the sight of the pudgy, slumbering baby all wrapped up and nestled in his guardian's arms. A poisonous envy, green as an emerald, the crown jewel of a dragon's hoard; a torrid rage, like a plume of smoke erupting from the nose of a dragon; a sticky misery, one that clings to his ribs, swaths of sadness swaying gently from bone to bone.

"This is Silver," Lilia says, keeping his voice level as he lifts the child towards Malleus. The expression on his face is impossible to pinpoint, a thousand different emotions swirling in those familiar red eyes — and yet, Lilia still smiles as he raises the human boy, murmuring, "Why not say hello to him?"

Malleus expects to feel nothing but a looming sensation of doom and gloom upon meeting the child, a sour part of his soul knowing that he has lost his guardian to this human orphan. And yet, when the baby's eyes flutter to reveal shimmering auroral irises, blinking wide, what is Malleus to do but stare in a stunned silence as the child reaches for him with its grubby little hand, curling tiny fingers around his own as it giggles to itself?

Another sensation makes itself known in his chest, worming through the ravaging thunderstorm of everything else: the warmth of affection, akin to a fireplace hearth crackling during the heart of a winter storm, the heat a lulling comfort.

"Hello, young Silver," Malleus whispers, a smile spreading across his face as he leans in, allowing the child to squeeze its— no, his little hand around his own finger tighter, absolutely beaming with joy. "Lilia must have been greatly blessed to find a child as lovely as you."

#my writing tag #tumblr drabbles tag #ficlet frenzy #twst #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst fanfiction #twst writing #waaaahhhh oh i made myself weak w this one ;;;;

[pr1-appreciation-month-2023]

And that concludes Private Recording 1 Appreciation Month 2023!

There have been lots of wonderful fanarts, fanfics and posts!

We love and enjoy our streamers' shenanigans and we love to share our favorite things about them as well.

It's been a blast, my friends.

Week 1: Favorite Streamer

Ze and Platy Fanart by henry-or-something ZeRoyalViking Gif-Fanart by hautedlife ChilledChaos Gef-set 1 by allianettemie5 ChilledChaos Clip by meevuis Chibidoki Origin Story Clip by meevuis "Knowing Me, Knowing You" Fanfic by youronlybean APlatypuss Clip by meevuis Elaina and Courtilly Fanart by apollo-the-story-teller Scooter Dooley Appreciation Post by heisttheblackflag CheesyBlueNips Clip by meevuis KYRSP33DY Ficlet by purgeshubble ZeRoyalDragon Fanart by pomellon Knovis Clips by heisttheblackflag Rat Chilled Fanart by apollo-the-story-teller Fooya Clip by heisttheblackflag Jeremy Dooley Clips by heisttheblackflag Ze and Chilled Fanart by nasekiro ChilledChaos Gif-set 2 by allianettemie5 Captain ChilledChaos by allianettemie5

Week 2: I'll Be There For You ('Cause You're There For Me Too)

Ze vs Jeremy Fanart by purple-fedoras Jeremy and Platy Phasmophobia Fanart by henry-or-something Tay Junk and Ze Fanart by hautedlife Courtilly and Side Moodboard by purgeshubble Chilled and Ze Dragon AU Fanart by pomellon "Break Out Of Your Burn Out" Fanfic by youronlybean Courtilly Kruz and Chilled Bennifer Crew Fanart by allianettemie5

Week 3: A Pet-Pocalypse

Kara's Snake Fanart by henry-or-something "Rules In Regard To Pets On The Skeld" Fanfic by youronlybean Buff Hashbrown Fanart by hautedlife Group's Cats Photos by heisttheblackflag

Week 4: What If…

PR1 Alternate Universes Edits by allianettemie5 Heathers AU by henry-or-something Chilled and Junk Indiana Jones AU by allianettemie5 "An Unweeded Garden" Fanfic by youronlybean "step to the left and shift your weight" Fanfic by heisttheblackflag Demon Ze and Angel Chilled Fanart by hautedlife Chilled and Ze Dragon AU References by pomellon

Week 5: Found Family

"How Chilled Became A Father" Comic Page by henry-or-something Forsaken Lineage by hautedlife "Bulletproof Bonds" Fanfic by allianettemie5

Week 6: It’s Free Real Estate

Chilled and Ze Diorama by henry-or-something Chilled and Junk Fanart by hautedlife Cheesy SquarePants by allianettemie5 "Shark Mages Are People Too" Fanfic by youronlybean PR1 Alignment Chart by allianettemie5 PR1 Group Fanart by hautedlife "Emerald Star" Fanfic by by youronlybean

All the fanfiction that's been written for this event can be found in the AO3 Collection.

Thank you all for participating in the Private Recording 1 Appreciation Month 2023!

Shout out for people that participated by posting for the event:

@henry-or-something

@hautedlife

@meevuis

@youronlybean

@apollo-the-story-teller

@heisttheblackflag

@purgeshubble

@pomellon

@nasekiro

@purple-fedoras

Thank you all who interacted, liked and reblogged posts, as well as people leaving kudos and writing comments on people's works.

Yours,

@allianettemie5

#pr1 appreciation month 2023 #private recording 1 #fanart #fanfiction #chilledchaos #zeroyalviking #aplatypuss #jeremy dooley #cheesybluenips #junkyard129 #taydertot #kara corvus #courtilly #sidearms4reason #kyrsp33dy #elainaexe #matt bragg #chibidoki #kn0vis #fooya #it's been a blast tumblr folk #thank you all so much #see you soon

[ellorypurebloodculture]

Is the Five Sentence Ficlets (FSF) gonna be only one a week or what other rules do you have for them?

FSF

Tom Marvolo Riddle/Fem Harry Potter (soulmates?)

I've updated my pinned post with info and rules. Thank you for asking, pen. 💛

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

"And this is my daughter, Heiress Harriet," Lord James Potter says as he introduces Harriet to High Lord Tom Slytherin at the Malfoys' Annual Yule Gala.

Harriet rises from her deep curtsy in a rustle of crimson organza and raises her head to say it's an honor to meet him, only for the words to die on her lips as she meets his gaze and his left eye instantly turns from emerald green to the vibrant silvery-gray she inherited from her father, Lord-Consort Regulus Potter.

Tom reaches forward and brushes his thumb across her cheek, beneath her left eye, which she knows is now emerald green, and rasps, "I have waited a very long time to find you."

Harriet leans into his touch, staring into her soulmate's eyes, and says, "I hope I'm worth the wait, Your Esteemed Grace."

He pulls her against his chest, wraps her in strong, warm arms, and says, "You're more than worth it, darling."

#ellory writes #five sentence ficlet #tom marvolo riddle jr./female harry potter #tomarry