#I just want a small low impact quiet life

[fallingstarwards]

The Someday Things I Am Waking Up For Every Day:

a very small house with a very large garden

a window seat where I can sit and read and watch the rain

floor to ceiling book shelves with a rolling ladder

a second dog to sprawl in front of the fireplace after a day spent outdoors

a corner with a spinning wheel and baskets full of yarn

cider brewed from my own trees, sold in local bars and restaurants

board game evenings with friends and good neighbors

weekends working a booth at the farmer’s market, selling vegetables, flowers, sprouts, yarn, plant dyes, etc

a quiet life filled with small joy lived for myself

#cottagecore #dreams and goals #to be ABSOLUTELY clear #i am NOT a trad person #I am very much a trans queer who wants trad handmaid’s tale shit kept 1000 miles away from my at all times #I just want a small low impact quiet life #i have been homeless on and off through my life #i know how to live simply and i will do so again

[garoujo]

TRY TO KEEP QUIET — GENSHIN IMPACT

feat : heizou, diluc, al-haitham, cyno + kazuha

♱ warnings — f!reader, exhibitionism, fingering, darknight hero diluc, teasing.

♱ note — this post is separate from kinktober cause i couldn’t help myself so consider this one a freebie <3

・✶ ｡ﾟSHIKANOIN HEIZOU

you couldn’t help the desire that seemed to consume you whenever you visited heizou at the police station. he knew exactly what he was doing as he flirted with you so shamelessly, luring you into one of the interrogation offices under the veil of ‘having something to discuss with his s/o’

“well how about if anyone asks.. we consider this, a new.. interrogation technique.” heizou whispers into your ear from where his body is curling over yours, his hips pressed flush against your own before he’s drawing back out of you with a languid roll of his hips. “what if we get caught? wont you g-get in trouble.” you’re trying so desperately to keep quiet, but you know he’s deliberately trying to pull the pretty sounds out of you that he loves so much when he sinks his cock back into your pussy — grinding his pelvis against your clit with a stifled moan.

“hm, there’s no need to worry.. if you’re able to keep quiet, that is.” he’s teasing you, you can tell by the low drawl that heizou’s voice takes and the way his lips deliberately ghost along the shell of your ear, followed by another deep kiss of his cock along the swollen spots inside of you as he keeps you pinned to the interrogation table. “oh, and i’ll make sure i’m the only one to see you like this.. call me greedy, i guess.” the pace he sets is anything but discreet, every wet connection of his hips into yours feeling like it echos around the small, darkened room.

“man alive, hnnn.. it seems you’re getting tighter.” heizou grunts, almost shamelessly before it breaks off into something whispery that makes your pussy squeeze around him. “you’re g-going to get us caught.” you’re barely able to hold yourself together but you still manage to tug playfully at his hair, but it seems to only make the detective above you feel even better as his cock throbs — lips grazing along the sensitive spots along your neck as he humps his cock into your pussy. “well now, i never said i’d be able to hold myself back, did i? it’s to be expected when you feel this good after all.”

・✶ ｡ﾟDILUC RAGNVINDR

you couldn’t help but feel lonely some nights, allowing yourself to take a stroll around mondstat, you felt safe there knowing it was being dutifully watched over. but some nights you’re lucky enough to run into the ‘darknight hero’ as he was known, and you think he deserves a reward after all the work he’s doing for your home town.

“do you have any idea what you do to me?” diluc grunts from where he’s pressing into you, his muscled body keeping you caged against the darkened alley wall behind angel’s share while he ruthlessly slams his cock into your stretched cunt, one of your thighs messily pulled over his hips while the other desperately tries to keep you upright with how good he’s fucking you. “how about you show me, darknight hero?” he’s powerless, weak, you were exquisite from where you’re blinking up at him — so beautiful on the end of his cock and he’s never felt so bested by anyone in his life like he does you.

“i f-fear i won’t be able to hold myself back.” “then don’t.” your reply is quick, making diluc grunt with the next intoxicating squeeze of your cunt around him — like you’re trying to convince him to let his desire for you consume him, even just for a night. his grip suddenly turns bruising as he keeps you pressed against him—your body jolting with each crushing thrust, driven by the weight of his trained body and you mewl, shamelessly when he glides along the sweet spots inside you that have you trembling, pretty tears gathering at your lashes.“shhh.. i don’t want us to be interrupted, sweetheart. ughhh.. i’m not done with you.”

the blunt head of diluc’s cock is kissing every part of you and you feel it thicken, throb inside you’re already clenching walls despite his words. you toss your head back against the wall, jolting when he suddenly slides a hand between your two bodies—the other squeezing your thigh to keep you upright as he messily rubs at your clit. “archons.. you are, beautiful.” the sensitive bud is already swollen and puffy from the grind of his pelvis, and you feel him press his lips to yours in the hopes of swallowing the pretty sounds you’re making for him. “is the darknight hero really a softie?” “only for you, it seems.”

・✶ ｡ﾟAL-HAITHAM

there was something alluring about al-haitham, the looks he’d send you as he made his way around the akademiya. you’d expect him to be a little more reserved as the scribe, so lead by example as a scholar but he’s just as daring as he is handsome, and he could never resist the sight of your pretty pussy spread around his cock.

“haitham.. you’re going to get us caught!” you gasp from where al-haitham is grinding his cock into your cunt, one of his biceps hooked around your hips as he keeps you pressed to the bookcase in a secluded corner of the akademiya. “oh, is that right? but i’m not the one being so loud, am i?” he grunts as his sharp gaze cuts through you — blown and heavy lidded followed by a deliberately, sharp push of his cock inside of you that feels like it reaches even deeper than it already was. you know despite his words, he wants you to be louder — to let him hear the pretty sounds he can dig up out of you.

“it’s not my fault you looked so irresistible, sweetheart. weren’t you the one who told me you couldn’t wait until we got home, or was that a lie?” al-haitham’s voice is wound so tight as he grits his teeth, the rut of his hips only growing heavier with the need that he feels lick at his spine — every thrust jostling the book case behind you as you try to grab onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “n-no, i needed you—fuck.” your voice comes out needier than you expected and you hear him chuckle in response, still finding the energy to tease you despite the spark of his orgasm in his abdomen.

“oh yeah? then let me feel you cum.. that’s what you wanted after all, right?” it’s almost a challenge, but his words are followed by a particularly sharp thrust of his cock before one of his hands smoothes between your thighs. you feel his fingers take their place between your folds, rubbing your puffy clit in sticky circles until he can feel you twitch around him, squeezing so tight it’s like you’re trying to milk him, your words reducing you to mumbled moans of his name and heavy breathes as his cock pushes against your sweet spots perfectly. “oh? don’t hold back on me now, sweetheart.”

・✶ ｡ﾟCYNO

you always thought it was charming how easily you could wind up cyno, when the adrenaline after a fight is still coursing through his veins and the first featherlight touch of your fingers along his bare chest has him heavy lidded. his cock twitching behind his uniform as he clears his throat to stifle a groan. “we should get going..” “not yet”

“hm, was this your plan to get me to rest?” cyno asks from where he’s sat beneath you, resting against one of the larger rocks in the desert as you grind yourself down on his cock — letting it kiss along your sweet spots as you his body rocks seamlessly with yours. he’s trying his best to remain composed but it’s almost melting entirely with the next tight, needy twitch of your walls around him, making him choke on a sharp groan as his hips meet each of your movements with eager humps of his own. “maybe, but i think you needed this just as much as i did.”

“you know i would.. n-never decline your offer.” it was so intoxicating watching the former general mahamatra crumble beneath you, his toes curling in the sand as he presses himself deeper against the brick behind him — trying to bite down on his lower lip as to not alert any enemies who could be lurking near by. “you sure you’re not just as needy as i am?” you gasp as you bounce yourself along his cock, pushing your chest closer against cyno’s exposed one as you feel his nails dig crescent moons into your skin — so overwhelmed by the pleasure that you always seem to dig out of him.

“heh, maybe.. after all, you might just be my weakness it seems.” he’s already so close, feeling something other than the desert heat burst and warm along his thighs as he trembles on a thrust, pulling you closer as he hooks his arms around your waist. the back and forth stutter of cyno’s hips into yours only grows needier, a little more desperate with the heat of desire sparking along his veins, your finger twisting in his hair as he lets his head fall back to moan. “ugh.. but i guess we can rest a little.”

・✶ ｡ﾟKAEDEHARA KAZUHA

anyone who didn’t really know kazuha would think that he polite and well behaved, but you knew that he was a tease because you were the one who had to deal with his neediness. feeling his wrapped fingertips trace their way up the inside of your thigh underneath the dinner table while he gives you a good-natured, innocent grin.

“oh, what’s all this from?” kazuha hums in your ear as he presses himself into your side, his tone a smooth whisper despite the teasing lilt that laces it as his fingers swipe through your folds underneath the table. your hands are gripping the edge as you both sit surrounded by his shipmates, but you feel like you’re about to lose your mind when you feel the blonde next to you slip his index finger into your flexing cunt. hearing an almost pleased chuckle from his lips when he’s not met with much resistance, and you can only suck your lower lip between your teeth in an attempt to stifle your moan.

“it’s like you’re sucking me right in, you’re so wet.” you couldn’t lie that you loved the way kazuha worshiped your body, always finding himself blown away by every part of you. but that also meant that it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you when you always looked so irresistible to him. “s-someone might see.” you gasp as you try to close your thighs around his wrist, but the featherlight touch of his other hand makes you melt when he squeezes at your thighs to keep you spread. “don’t worry about that, this sight is only for me ofcourse.”

your eyes are unfocused as you try to look around for any prying eyes, but you can still sense the dreamy look on kazuha’s face as he gazes at you, pushing another finger in to join the first before he’s angling them against the sweet spot inside of you, the one that has your thighs twitching and a pleasurable heat building in your stomach. you feel like you might pass out with how good you feel, a needy mewl escaping from your pursed lips as you try to cover it up with a cough — drawing some unwanted attention before you feel your boyfriend’s lips press against your ear, seizing the opportunity to avoid suspicion. “oh? are you doing okay? how about i take you to my room and you can rest with me a little?”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #cyno x reader #cyno smut #heizou x reader #heizou smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut

[fuxuannie]

* pairings : orpheus de ross x gender neutral reader

* prompt : a novelist is left to write about his feelings for the person who he loves dearly, surely he couldn't struggle doing that, right? (wrong.)

* authors note : i love orphy sososos much <3 first fic,, reqs r open ♡.

ORPHEUS was a man who could express himself better with a pen and paper rather than use his own words. He was more than capable of doing so, but some things tend to leave him tongue tied. And there was someone that he wanted to have them untie it for him.

You were someone who shared unconditional kindnes to Orpheus, at the time, he really didn't think much of it. He appreciated your kind gestures, but never reciprocated. It was until one day, you had written him a good luck note, and given it to him before his games would start within the day.

It wasn't much, but the little gesture left an impact. The next day, he had approached you with a small smile and a letter in hand, an expression that you didn't often see from him. Nevertheless, you smile and give your due thank you.

One letter turned to two, two into three and three to a box-full of little notes and letters that the two of you were exchanging in the span of a few months.

Orpheus had grown fond of you in that time, he'd never admit it, but he'd often miss you dearly, and would read the letters he collected in your voice while you're gone. and those of the manor knew it.

"Confess to them already!" Suggested Emily,

"Man up and tell them before someone else does." said Naib,

"Just take your time and confess when you're ready." Patricia sighed.

None of those ideas he was a fan of, mostly because it involved actually telling you how he felt. Which in truth, he didn't want to do, nor was it any of their business to be snooping on his love life.

But despite believing it was for the best to stay friends, his evergrowing feelings were getting harder to control, as the simple brush against your fingertips made him ever so quietly flustered.

snap snap.

The sound of fingers snapping caught his attention.

"Orpheus?" Alice, his dear friend called out. "You're usually not so lost in thought, do you have something in mind?" She asked, snapping Orpheus back into reality as he now recalled he agreed to meet her for tea. So currently, they were in Alice's room. She sat on her chair, while Orpheus sat on her bed across to her.

"Well, it's more.. someone." He replies, clearing his throat as Alice couldn't help but smile. "Oh? Have you found someone you're interested in?" She teased, but Orpheus remained quiet. His silence speaking much louder than the words he would never admit.

"You have?!"

"You of all people, should have been the last one to know."

Alice was immediately overjoyed, "I thought you would die alone and sad! Oh my gosh, who is it?!" she questioned eagerly. "One, rude. Two.. its (name)." He admitted honestly, not bothering to hide his feelings or anything of the sort.

Alice's eyes practically lit up. "(name)!? I knew it! You two have been spending an awful lot of time together, and the way you couldn't help but cover your mouth after speaking to them was such an obvious sign! You do not simply like them, you are inlove with them!" She accused him of his love crimes, and admittedly, he pleaded guilty. Hanging his head down low as he hid his red cheeks.

"Yes, I may or may not be inlove with them. But I.. I don't know exactly how to tell them. Actually, I'm not even sure if i want to" He puts his cup of tea on her desk. Almost mumbling that entire ramble as Alice puts her index over her lips, as if she was in thought.

"How about you write a letter? You seem to be good at it, and it'll be sweet! Sure, theres a difference using your voice in a confession compared to a letter, but at least they'll be able to keep your words and preserve it forever. It's almost like that the paper is a promise to them! As long as those words are written by you, for however long they last, you promise to stay true to the words you wrote." She suggests with a snap of a finger and a small smile.

Though the idea sounded really corny, Orpheus couldn't deny that it would've been easier. He was always better on paper than in person, and he couldn't deny that he could write a novel long confession for you. Cause thats how you made him feel, with a simple gesture of kindness, you had even the most stoic and calm man stumbling over his words. So surely, it wouldn't be the hardest thing to do.

If only he knew how badly he'd eat those words later. Cue to the fact it's 11pm, Orpheus' usually tidy and organized hair turned to a mess as he pushes it back for the 10th time. Crumpling the 16th paper and dumping it in the trash, usually Orpheus wouldn't mind a Writers Block, but the fact he asked you to meet him in the Dining Room tomorrow made him really stressed.

"Maybe I should call it off.." But even before he could finish that thought, he could already hear Alice's nonestop scolding about being afraid of his own feelings. But maybe he was, maybe he was afraid of his own feelings, very specifically the fear of losing you because of it. He's read it a thousand times in several novels, the guy confesses to the person they love and boom. They lose them. He didn't want that to happen, especially not with you.

However, Orpheus didn't want to be a man filled with regret. So he emptied his mind, grabbed a pen and he focused on one of the very few things that mattered in his life. You.

It's 6AM, the manor was playing classical music on it's exact cue. You sat in one of the Dining Room chairs, humming to yourself while waiting for Orpheus to arrive. While the man himself was having Alice tell him for the 100th time that his hair looked fine, but put his pants on backwards.

"(name)?" He calls out for you from behind, a hand on your seat as you turn around and smile. "Orpheus, good morning." You greet him as usual, his gaze on you is so soft. So warm and welcoming, he pulls the chair to your side and turns it so it can face you properly. "So, I wanted to tell you something." He began, trying to maintan eye contact with you as he avoided the urge to look away.

"(name), for the longest time, I-"

"I like you too, Orpheus."

He's not allowed to get another second in, and you look at him with the most serious expression on your face. "I like you." You repeated. His entire composure that he tried to build up all night melted. You smile a little at his reaction, watching him scramble to cover his mouth as a tint of red glows on his face.

You gently take his hand away from your face, and hold it in your own. "I'm sorry if I ruined the moment." You apologize, squeezing his hand as he's now left to show his entire world his very flustered expression. "No uh, actually I'm glad you did. I spent 5 hours trying to uh.. plan a confession and.. was left thinking of you and nothing else that I forgot to write something." He confessed, laughing to himself as his gaze was originally you and his hand intertwined together, but was pleasantly surprised to see you slightly blush.

"You.. were thinking of me?" You asked, "The question should be, when do I not think about you?" He answered.

There was a comforting silence, before Orpheus lifted your hand up to plant a kiss on your knuckles. Just incase that the lips was something you weren't ready for yet.

"Actually, I think that the question should be.. What now?" He said softly, and you quite literally pull him into a hug. "Take one step at a time. We'll figure things out together, right?"

He smiles, returning the embrace. "Right." He pulls away for a moment, looking you in the eyes and carressing your cheek before you gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Hah.. Thank you. For everything."

Maybe confessing wasn't such a bad idea after all.

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv x reader #idv x you #orpheus idv x reader #orpheus x reader #orpheus de ross x reader

[gothicscorpiohub]

Lost you

Genre: Romantic–Thriller

Pairing: Marvel Loki x Reader

Overview: Just after Ragnarok happened, Loki along with his wife Y/n, who is pregnant for a while, is on his way to Midgard. What he doesn't know is the plan of Thanos in action against his to derive the tesseract.

Loki sits across the table on his cozy couch in his temporary room in the ship, rereading through the Hamlet, his gaze follows the distinct dark words the vintage papers of the book holds but his mind however isn't attentive of the fiction, rather it runs through the disturbing possibilities of the near future.

It was not more than a mere hour when he saw his sister Hela and Ragnarok burn his realm Asgard into ashes, he saw the place which holds thousands years of his memories, turned into ruins. Asgard was a place he never thought himself to be emotionally attached, regardless it was the not so un- unique place where he spent most part of his life into.

He, as an infant was brought up by Odin to Asgard, to his mother, Frigga. Asgard was the place where he learnt taking his first steps, it was the place within the walls of which the sounds of his first words echoed, it was the place which holds the memories of his first fight with Thor, which he lost badly, it was the place within where Loki learnt about his true heritage, within where he was broken, betrayed, lost, within where he collected himself, within where did he gathered the courage to win up against the injustices of the realm,

except the mother realm of his is no more.

He, after knowing his true heritage of Jötunheim, never considered himself an Asgardian, but now he can't help wondering how much he was attached with his realm Asgard.

The fight had an extravagant impact on everyone, it hurted that many lost their lives but more disturbing fact is that many lost their knowns, and many lost their everything.

The only and most important thing that mattered was the soundness of his wife Y/N. He was terribly terrified of her safety during the war, she was undoubtedly an incredible warrior but at present atleast, he couldn't take any risks, not when she's five months pregnant.

"Darling," he said relaxing his back to the couch, his deep honeydew voice rumbling through his chest like a melody as he felt an soft, firm hand squeezing his shoulder. He couldn't tell how comforting this small action of his wife Y/N was. "You're fine" she said through her quiet, soft, assuring voice while giving out a weak and tired smile. He smiled at his wife's understanding, she knew perfectly when he was feeling low and when he doesn't want to talk about it.

He stood up to her and guided her to the bed of their room, seating her back against the headboard and taking her feet in his lap while sitting in front of her in the suprisingly luxurious bed on the ship. He kept a soft hand upon her swollen belly and began stroking it lightly, a smile plastered on his lips.

"I wonder how well have I acquired the good deeds to have you as my wife, darling." He said softly to her, she smiled "I've to ask this very question to myself several times a day for you, my king" her stomach then grumbled slightly, enough for the young king to notice.

It was then it hit his mind, wide eyed he said "You, my darling, in the chaos of the war, haven't eaten anything in– in two days!" She chuckled slightly, feeling tired. She pulled Loki towards her with his hands (assertively not putting the slightest efforts in the process) and gestured him to sit beside her, he still objected, panicked from inside for this pregnant belly haven't had meals for two days. "Darling, pardon me, give a minute, I'll find something." Frantically, he said. Y/n couldn't help admiring the cuteness of her husband, before he could make a move, she held his hand firmly. "That may wait a while–" she spoke calmly, her calm demeanor always turned to calm Loki with the base of his heart, her voice makes him let go all of his problems, she makes him feel to let go of everything and just to live the moment, with her. "I want to rest, if I have your consent" she joked weakly, exhaustion dripping from every word she used. Loki, instinctively guided her to lay comfortably and covered them both while conjuring a warm fuzzy blanket.

Loki didn't remember himself relaxing his head on the headboard and absentmindedly stroking y/n's hair slowly while she rests her head on his broad leather covered chest, while she's on the brink of falling asleep, or perhaps in a deep slumber already. He smiled mildly at himself, taking in the sensation of being– saturated–with everything.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After a few hours, when he woke up, first thing his subconscious did was to take in the unfamiliar surroundings, it took him a while to remember he was inside a ship in space on his way to Midgard. Then, his gaze rested on the calm sleeping figure of Y/n curled in a ball, clutching her swollen belly and Loki's hands enveloping her securely.

Getting off the bed was quite an task if you didn't wanted your loved one who hasn't got real sleep in days to wake up from deep slumber. To be honest , Loki didn't wanted to get off the bed but, the circumstances weren't those to resemble rest, it was just not the time for it. He covered Y/n properly with blankets and instantly conjured the bag he had prepared with Y/n and settled out some packages of edible arrangements on the table, wincing at the remembrance of his wife not having meals for days and that too during her PREGNANCY.

"How's lady Y/n, brother?" Thor asked concerned. "She's resting" Loki answered

"Understandable, she's suprisingly very strong." Thor complimented, remembering her intellects while they were in the war.

"That she inconsiderably is." Loki spoke proud of her for the billionth time.

"I'd dare say, broth–" Thor stopped mid sentence, as if something has got his tongue. Loki looked up from whatever he was doing to meet the direction of his brother's eyes. Through the glass above the control panel, a space jet seemed to advance just against their space ship, protruding more and more with evey second passing.

Loki probably did knew what it was, and he wasn't proud of it.

He was here

To take the tesseract

To initiate a war

He was here,

Thanos.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Heya, it's my first Loki x Reader fanfiction. Do let me know of you like it. Shall I create a second part?

P.S. If you're wanting to talk to someone, I'm always here to hear.

Second part's out:

#loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki series #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki season 2 #marvel #loki fluff #loki fandom #loki friggason #loki layfeson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #loki love #avengers #the avengers #thor odinson #thor #classic literature #my writing #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #book community #fanfic

[teaberrii]

Chapter 9: Suspicion

You and Dan Heng are a match made in heaven until fate takes him away from you too soon. Years later, you think you moved on with a mutual friend who shared your grief and stuck with you during tough times until you meet a mysterious man with a striking resemblance to your past lover and a hidden motive. You’re determined to get rid of him, but how are you going to get rid of a god?

Dan Feng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Genshin Impact and Honkai: Star Rail crossover

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Support my writing

Signora walks up the stone steps of the mansion and pushes the door open. The mansion is quiet, as predicted. She walks toward the living room, her footsteps quietly echoing throughout the house. As soon as she turns the corner, she sees a young man sitting on the couch with a book in his hands.

“Tsaritsa is spoiling you,” Signora says flatly. “Don’t you have school, Scaramouche?”

He shoots her a dirty look. “Looks like the traitor’s back.”

“Take a seat, Signora.”

Signora turns at the sudden voice, but she already knows who it is. Tsaritsa stands behind her in a dark blue dress. She walks past her, and Signora cautiously follows her. Tsaritsa takes the giant armchair while Signora sits on the couch opposite Scaramouche.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” Tsaritsa says. “I’m sorry all of us couldn’t attend the festivity. But I’m sure Childe made up for our absence.”

“Yes,” Signora says flatly, crossing one leg over the other. “He sure enjoyed himself.” She glares at Scaramouche. “Pardon me, but do you have to be here?”

“He does,” Tsaritsa answers.

“You heard the lady,” Scaramouche says with a mocking grin.

“Then, let’s skip the small talk, shall we?” Signora asks, turning her attention back to Tsaritsa. “What was so urgent that you couldn’t have called?”

“I’m sure you’re aware we have an imposter on our hands.”

Signora softly sighs. “And I’m sure you heard that from Childe.”

“Whose side are you on?”

Without turning her head, Signora shoots Scaramouche a look.

“Side?” Signora asks with a scoff. “I’m on no one’s side.”

“You were the closest to the brat out of all of us,” Scaramouche says.

Signora quietly scoffs just as Tsaritsa cuts in. “What Scaramouche is saying is that he hopes you won’t let your emotions get the better of you.”

“Word from the mutt is that you’re being all buddy-buddy with the imposter and his girlfriend.”

“Ah, I see where this is going,” Signora says flatly, ignoring Scaramouche and looking at Tsaritsa. “You’re scared that I’m helping the cute little imposter. Well, Tsaritsa… You wouldn’t have anything to worry about if you really had nothing to do with what happened to Dan Heng.” Signora leans back. “Are you scared of who this man is? Or… Are you scared of what he’ll find?”

Tsaritsa’s stoic look never leaves. Instead, she regards Signora with a stern look. “You should be worrying about yourself, Signora. This man… The imposter. He’s not who he says he is.”

“I don’t care who he is,” Signora says. “I just want to find out what happened to Dan Heng.”

“Then what if he was one of them?”

Signora slightly narrows her eyes. “One of who?”

“One of the people who isn’t supposed to exist.”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Yet, underneath her unfazed exterior, she’s asking all sorts of questions. She knows about the two suspicious men who entered Tsaritsa’s life a little before the accident and with Tsaritsa keeping their profiles low, Signora doesn’t know much about them besides the gossip that she heard from different people in the family. Columbina described them as “foreigners” while Childe said they’re “businessmen from out of town.” Regardless, no one tells her more, which is to be expected as she’s been growing distant from the family even before what happened to Dan Heng.

“Is this a confession?” Signora continues, “Whatever it is, it sounds like those men should be in jail.”

The mocking smile on Scaramouche’s face makes her want to punch him.

“Good luck with that,” he says. “Just because there’s a confession doesn’t mean they’ll be arrested. You still need evidence.”

“If it weren’t for them, Signora,” Tsaritsa says, “do you really think My Fair Lady would be where it is today? They pretend to be your friends… but all they do is end up stabbing you in the back.”

“I am where I am today because of their help,” Signora says, referring to Dan Heng’s family. “I owe them a lot. Whatever grudge you have against them… Don’t drag me into it.”

“Did you know they were going to sell it?” Tsaritsa asks calmly. “After promoting you and getting you to put in the work, they were going to kick you out and give the company to someone else.” Signora narrows her eyes. “Do you want evidence?” Scaramouche tosses a wide manila envelope on the table. “It’s up to you whether you want to see the truth.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Signora challenges.

Tsaritsa’s eyes turn dark. “The imposter doesn’t belong here. I won’t tolerate anyone who’s helping him. You’re smart, Signora. I’m sure you understand what I’m getting at.”

So, it’s either Dan Feng or her. Signora glances at the envelope on the table. If there’s truth in what Tsaritsa is saying, then Signora is stuck between a rock and a hard place as Tsaritsa’s motives are anything but pure.

“Fine.” Signora takes the envelope off the table. “But answer me this. Who are those men? What happened on that plane?”

Scaramouche’s eyes flash towards Tsaritsa.

“Dan Heng and his family are gone,” Tsaritsa answers. “But, what happened after the crash is a fate worse than death.”

Well, that leaves Signora with more questions than answers.

◆◆◆

A couple of days later, you’re still getting resettled into your parent’s old apartment. But, at least all the big things are out of the way, and it’s just cleaning and personalizing the space to make it feel like yours again. Dan Feng texted you earlier today, asking if you need help unpack. In response, you jokingly invite him over to help you. And you’re surprised that’s exactly what he does.

“What are you expecting me to do?” he asks, helping you reach a spot on an old bookshelf in the small den to wipe off the dust. “Sit here and enjoy tea while watching you clean?”

You smell the slight musky scent of his cologne. “Well, no, but—”

You turn around, and Dan Feng’s standing behind you. Your face warms as you see a view of his bare chest. Your eyes follow the necklace that disappears into his tank top, and then you hear:

“Cat got your tongue?”

You immediately look up and see Dan Feng looking at you. Then, you playfully jab him.

“Well, you’re standing a little too close.”

Dan Feng reaches past you and takes a book off the shelf before stepping back.

“I never knew you were into historical novels,” he says. He smiles slightly as he goes through the book. “Brings back memories.”

“Memories?”

“Ah… I meant that I read this book a long time ago,” he says, closing the book. “It was one of my favourites.”

In truth, Dan Feng knows the novelist who penned the famous novel that continues to become a popular adaptation and inspiration for popular culture.

“Really?” you ask. “Have you read the entire trilogy?”

“Of course. Have you?”

“Of course.”

Dan Feng smiles as he hands you the book. “Then, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a pop quiz.”

“And what do I get if I beat this pop quiz?”

“Anything you want.”

You slightly narrow your eyes. “Let’s be serious, shall we?”

“What do you want?” He glances at the necklace around your neck. “Besides getting to the bottom of what happened with Dan Heng.”

You turn around and put the book back on the shelf. “If I remember correctly”—you face him once again—"you’ll only be here for a year."

Dan Feng slightly tilts his head. “Since when would you like me to stay?” he asks teasingly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“I mean…” You take a small breath. “We’re friends now. And—”

“Oh,” Dan Feng says with a small chuckle. “Are we? I didn’t get the memo.”

You give him a deadpan look, and he smiles at you.

“I… I just think it’d be nice if you could stay,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “But, if you can’t, hey, it’s no big deal.”

Dan Feng walks until he’s in front of you. “I’d need a reason to stay.”

“Guess the scenery isn’t enough.” You slowly look at him and meet his eyes. “So? What about that pop quiz?”

And that’s when his phone goes off.

You resume cleaning while Dan Feng pulls his phone out of his pocket. The unknown number on the screen makes him slightly suspicious, but he eventually faces away from you and answers the phone.

“Hello, my little dragon friend.”

Sampo’s voice takes Dan Feng completely off guard.

"What the—"

You turn towards him, curious about the shock.

"Seems like human technology is the closest thing to magic nowadays," Sampo drawls.

“How did you get my number?”

“Oh, I still got a little magic left in me. Maybe not as much as I want, but hey, guess I can’t complain in a magicless, dull world like this one.”

“Why are you calling me?” Dan Feng asks flatly.

“Because I got a little piece of information that I think will interest you. This Aeon business… It no longer just concerns you after all." Dan Feng slides a hand into his pocket. "It’s not just Lan and Nanook we’re dealing with,” Sampo says with a hint of seriousness that’s unlike anything Dan Feng has heard. Sampo looks at the piece of paper in front of him. “There’s someone else.”

“Someone else…?”

Sampo looks at the ginger leaning against a car in front of him.

“No idea who," Sampo says.

“Well, what does this person have to do with them?”

Sampo looks at the piece of paper in his hand. “I think he’s controlling them.” Dan Feng’s eyes go wide. Again, you look at him. But this time, you walk over. “Look, I don’t know all the details. But, I’ll send you what I know.”

Then, the line goes dead.

Somewhere in the city, Sampo slips his phone inside his pocket and looks at Childe who gives him a little smile.

Back at your place, you look from Dan Feng’s phone and back to him.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. “Who was that?”

“A… An acquaintance, I guess you can call him.”

“An acquaintance? Well… What did they want?”

“He said it’s not just Lan and Nanook we’re dealing with.”

You don’t like the sound of that.

“So… There’s someone else? How do they know?”

“I know just as much as you,” Dan Feng mutters.

Then, his phone buzzes, and it’s a picture message. Dan Feng doesn’t try hiding his phone, so you get a good look at the chilling message on the screen.

Time’s ticking

You and Dan Feng glance at each other.

This was a message to Lan.

But from whom? And what is it supposed to mean?

“If this is proof that there’s someone else…” you begin. “I mean, anyone could’ve written this as a sick prank.”

“We shouldn’t disregard it, though.”

“What is it supposed to mean?” you wonder. “Sounds like they’re on a deadline for something.”

And does it have anything to do with why they escaped?

Dan Feng glances at you, wondering if your curiosity is something he should be careful about. But another thought hits him. How does Sampo know about this mysterious message? From Lan? Or someone close to him? And now that they have a new character in the shadows to worry about, what is this person after? 

“Whoever leaked this to this acquaintance of yours,” you begin, “it must be someone close to him.” When Dan Feng looks at you, he can see the gears turning in your head. “You don’t think it’s our Carrothead, is it?”

That almost cracks a smile out of him.

“‘Our’ Carrothead?” Dan Feng asks with a quiet scoff. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

You sigh. “I’m just wondering if this has anything to do with what happened to Dan Heng.”

“I don’t know,” Dan Feng answers quietly. “I wish I had an answer for you.”

◆◆◆

Dressed in black flare pants and a white blouse, you walk into the lobby of a large building—the headquarters of one of Lunae’s subsidiary companies and your temporary place of employment where you’ll work with the team on the design project for the next few months. There’s a large, open coffee shop to your right where you see people talking about work or lounging with co-workers. To your far right near the back wall is a small crowd waiting for an elevator—eight total with four on either side.

“Hi,” you say, reaching the receptionist’s desk. Then, you give her your name. “I have a meeting with the creative director.”

The young man grabs an iPad and taps through it a few times before looking at you. “Yes, I have you scheduled with him for this afternoon.” After a couple more taps, he opens a drawer and hands you a transparent card. “His office is on the top floor.”

“Thanks.”

So, you take the card key and head to the elevators.

It feels like it’s just yesterday that you’re getting resettled in your parents’s apartment, but days fly by and before you know it, it’s already time for you to meet Lan.

The conversation with Dan Feng in your apartment is still on your mind. While you’re dying to know about the message and what it could mean, you haven’t done anything to act on your curiosity. If Childe is the one behind the mysterious leak, why would he tell you anything about it? And how does he know about Dan Feng’s mysterious acquaintance? This leads to your biggest question. Who is Dan Feng’s acquaintance? You only have a name and a brief statement of how Dan Feng described him.

Sampo.

“He’s… neither friend nor foe.”

No one, including Dan Feng’s friends, wants to elaborate more on him, which raises your suspicions. You’ve even tried searching him online but came up with nothing. So, you drop it, despite the red flags you’re seeing. And that’s not the only suspicion nagging at you.

It was a chilly evening when Bailu invited you to their flat for dinner. Just a few days prior, Caelus had called it a “fated coincidence” that your flat and Dan Feng’s were right across the hall from each other. Bailu had also positive things to say about this “fated coincidence.”

“It’ll be so much easier to see each other!” she had said.

So, here you were. Sitting across from Dan Feng at a dinner table with plates of food on the table that was supposedly prepared by Bailu.

“Yeah, these guys don’t know how to cook,” Bailu said. “They’re still newbies at the craft.”

“We’re learning,” Dan Feng said calmly.

“And where did you learn how to cook, Bailu?” you asked.

“I taught myself! And now I’m teaching these guys.”

You’d wanted to ask more but this wasn’t the topic of discussion for the evening. Why you were really here was to discuss what to do with Lan.

“So, if the creative director is Lan, how will you nab him?” you asked. “I suppose you can’t just waltz into his office and cuff him.”

“Yes,” Zhongli said. “It’s… a little more complicated than that.”

You put your bowl down. “I see. I actually tried looking up information about him and Nanook online... There’s usually a list you can look up for wanted people.”

Neuvilette, who had been casually drinking his tea, put his cup down. “It’s a lot more complicated than you think. They’ve changed names and appearances. Frankly, we don’t know if they still look like the people we remember.”

“They must know we’re after him,” Bailu huffed. “But, don’t worry”—she looked at you—”I know you’ll be safe.”

“I, well, I hope so,” you said. “I would think if he kidnapped me, it would attract local maybe even national attention. I doubt that’s what they want.”

“We wouldn’t let you get kidnapped in the first place,” Dan Feng said. “But, it’s possible he’s acting on an agenda different to Tsaritsa.”

“You mean… The crazy family doesn’t know what they’re up to?” Bailu asked. “But… Why? I thought they’d be in this together.”

“There’s also that note you told us about,” Zhongli said. “If Lan is acting on a different agenda, would that mean no one knows about that note?”

“Or, is it him and a traitor?” Neuvilette asked.

Bailu reached over and grabbed a large piece of salmon with her chopsticks. “Well, why don’t we look at it this way? Is there a possibility of a traitor? If yes, who and why?”

You never get an answer, but something is nagging at you. You’re still not getting the full picture. Something’s missing, and it wouldn’t bother you as much if the suspicion falls on Lan. No. It bugs you that part of it lies with the group you’re supposed to trust. But one thing’s for sure. You feel safer with them, and you’ve learned to trust your gut more than anything.

The stares you get when you swipe the card that’s different from everyone else’s doesn’t go unnoticed. And as predicted, you’re the last one to get off the elevator. The sound of your heels echoes softly on the marble floor as you walk to the single room at the end of the brightly-lit hall that’s of a beige and white colour scheme with an antique placed in front of areas where the walls were a dark brown.

You reach a dark brown door at the end of the hall, and you hear something like drawers closing and papers shuffling from the other side. 

You knock once.

No answer.

Twice. 

Still no answer.

You’re about to knock again when you hear:

“It’s open.”

You enter and see a man standing in front of a large monitor. 

“Did I come at a bad time?”

He shuts a drawer. “No. you’re right on time.” Then, he gestures for you to sit on the couch and walks to the table with a coffee machine. “Coffee? Tea?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” you say, sitting on one of the black couches.

Regardless, he starts up the coffee machine and says:

“The team you’ll be working with will be arriving a little later, but I’ve been hearing a lot about you.” He leans against the table while facing you. “Your work and reputation are among the best in the industry.”

“While I’m flattered, surely you didn’t call me here just to compliment me on my work.”

“You’re right. I want to talk to you about Dan Feng.” You slightly narrow your eyes as he says your name. “How much do you know about me?”

Is this a trick question?

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re technically my boss at this point,” you say calmly.

“Dan Feng and I… No. Dan Feng and us. We go a long way back. Did he tell you?”

Looks like this is far from the work-related conversation you’re expecting. 

“How do you know Dan Feng?”

Lan’s smile is unsettling. The coffee machine comes to a stop, and he turns around.

“He and his friends were the ones who put us in jail.” The casual tone makes it sound like it’s part of a daily routine like cooking or laundry. You feel oddly trapped as he walks towards you with two cups of coffee. As if you’re playing right into his hand. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He puts a cup of black coffee in front of you. “Did that scare you?”

“What are you doing with Tsaritsa?”

Lan sits on the opposite sofa across from you. “We met by chance.” He quietly sips his coffee. “She helped us in our time of need.”

“Then, she’s also a criminal.”

His eerie smile almost makes your palms sweat.

“But, she’s better than them, at least.” Lan nods at your coffee. “You’re wasting a perfectly good coffee.”

You still don’t pick it up.

“What did she make you do?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“Do what?”

“She had you do something to the plane Dan Heng was on,” you say, clenching your fists. “Didn’t she?”

“You’re making some wild assumptions here.” Lan crosses one leg over the other. “What do you think she had us do?” He sips his coffee. “Come on. Give me your best shot.”

“You killed someone,” you say sternly. “And you’re treating it as a game?”

How fucking insane.

“Isn’t that what life is? One big game?”

“We’re done here,” you mutter, standing.

“Oh, but are we?”

The dangerous look in his eyes chains you to your spot.

“Even if you go to the police, they’ll never figure out how he was killed,” Lan continues. “Even if you have a confession, it won’t work without evidence.” A small, amused grin. “The human law is truly interesting.”

“Human law…?” you quietly ask.

“Looks like no one’s told you.” Lan puts his coffee down. “If you take a seat, I’ll tell you the truth.”

You look at him skeptically. “About what?”

“About who I am. Who Dan Feng is… because he’s been lying to you since day one.” He nods at your coffee. “Then you’ll know who your real friends are.”

Chapter 10

Tag list: @lunavixia @sunsethw4 @boomie-123 @aerithsthingss

#dan feng x you #dan feng x reader #hsr dan feng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #imbibitor lunae

[lale-txt]

Raffle Prize: Aftercare w/ Zoro & afab!reader

a/n: 3rd prize that went to @some-piece! they requested:

"would you be okay with writing aftercare fluff, Zoro treating afab/fem reader after rough sex (idk, impact play, painplay, just Zoro being extra Zoro, tbh details don't matter, it's just background for the core of text)? with maybe a little sprinkle of praise kink? idk just soft marimo hours :p"

i went a bit more descriptive on the smut part to set the mood (sweats) but i promise it's a good balance and i made it extra fluff in the end!

contains: ns.fw under the cut, afab!reader (no pronouns, cunt used to describe genitals), rough sex, penetration (reader receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex (no breeding or pregnancy implied), soft aftercare as requested <3

word count: 585

“There you go, babe, just like that.” 

Zoro’s cock was buried deep inside of you from behind, hitting all your sweet spots, drawing out vicious mewls from you. You arch your back a little more, your hot walls clenching unbridled around him as his thrusts get more sloppy. Despite your whimpering and begging he kept fucking you through your orgasm and at this point you had stopped counting how many it were. Every now and then he would hold still to feel the throbbing of your wet cunt around him, a low growl escaping his throat as he spanked your ass, the sharp pain of it making you cry out loud for more.

“Now be good and let me make a pretty little mess out of you.”

You hold your breath as Zoro’s hands dig deeper in the flesh of your hips, pulling you closer onto his cock. No matter how often he fucked you like this, feral, with insatiable hunger, you just couldn’t get enough of him, of his fingernails leaving red trails on your skin, drawing constellations between love bruises like a tiny universe itself. Maybe that’s why all you can see are stars with every thrust of his, hitting your insides a little deeper than before, until he cums with a groan and one hand in your hair, trembling as he is bent over you, biting your neck as he fucks you a little longer until his load is running down your thighs.

Both of you slump onto the mattress, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs. Zoro kisses your neck softly when he pulls out carefully, leaving a trail of kisses down your spine before he rolls over on his back. His face is flushed and his chest heaving, covered with a thin sheen of sweat. 

“C’mere, love.” 

He pats himself on the shoulder, opening his arms wide for you to crawl into them. You sigh in deep relief when he wraps them around you, holding you tight as you both just lie and breathe to the sound of your drumming heartbeats. Zoro leans his head against yours as you nuzzle yourself into the crook of his neck, finding calmness in his warmth and scenth, the feeling of coming home. He smiles when you hum softly against his skin, drawing small circles on your skin with his fingertips, being extra gentle on the parts that had burnt up under his touch previously. 

Between whispered sweet confessions he reaches for some water next to the bed, making sure you stay hydrated; he also offers to make you a little snack and draw you a bath which sounds tempting but you don’t want him to get up just yet. Instead he throws the blanket over the two of you, pulling it up to the tip of your nose as he kisses your forehead, gently brushing your hair out of your face. When you close your eyes and sink deeper into his embrace, he places soft kisses on your eyelids, mumbling over and over how he adored you and what a lucky man he was ever since you walked into his life.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to doze off together, tangled up in each other's arms; both of you smiling in your sleep even though no dream could be sweeter than the reality of sharing a love like you two had. Pure and warm, as free as the wind blowing your sails; sometimes quiet but always there. Forever.

#roronoa zoro #zoro x you #zoro x reader #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece smut #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #lale 1.5k raffle

[avelera]

There's a fake marriage fic you wrote from a while back and I absolutely love and obsess over it. In "Come live with me and be my love" how is Dream feeling about the whole "small town life"? Like I know we've established that the rumors are not the best, but have they enjoyed it at all? Are there any aspects in particular that they like about walking with humanity in that story?

Absolutely love your work btw!!!

So the "small town" aspect of "Come live with me and be my Love" is not quite done yet! In fact, the chapter I'm working on now is going to continue delve into the *mumble mumble oh god why didn't i ever name this place mumble* town life a bit more!

Gonna cut for spoilers and rambling!

I know you didn't ask about Hob but I'll quickly make an aside about him: Hob deliberately chose a really small, landlocked, agrarian town where he could sell books as a way to distance himself from the "shipping business". He figured that between going back to printing, which eventually brought him to "Mr. Fell" and bookselling, and going into business on his own from the urgings of Mr. Wentworth, that he'd found a quiet place where he could spend 5-10 years just... chilling. Being as self-sufficient as possible, in a low-cost rural area, where he couldn't hurt anyone, with a trade that he knows and that is about as far away from "shipping" as he could possibly get in terms of direct impact, and where he was nominally about as distant as one could be in the 1810s from a global evil that helped prop up the burgeoning British Empire that's about to explode in even further in the wake of the Napoleonic Wars.

Basically, I don't personally see Hob as a superhero setting out to right wrongs after he made his personal reparations, insofar as he could, to the people he personally wronged, but I do see him pulling inward for a time to reassess himself and the world at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution, when all of a sudden one man can in fact cause tens of thousands of people to suffer because of industrialized human trafficking, among other evils, without being a king or even particularly important, unlike Hob's early days as a bandit or a soldier where, yes he's killed and robbed and probably done all sorts of unsavory things but at least he did those on a largely individual basis.

So Hob's reasons for picking this town are, to me, sort of important for understanding what Dream does or does not get out of being there.

Anyway! I'm really passionate about Hob's headspace in this story so, to your actual question, is Dream enjoying this life at all?

Thing is, what Dream is going to enjoy about this life is coming up in future chapters. It's only been about a week (ugh) and Dream is still majorly reassessing a lot of his assumptions about what this bet would mean to take part in. He's falling in love with Hob on a level he never expected (he was entirely geared up for "fuck buddies" and that was it), he was expecting the human life part to be negligible and beneath his notice, only to discover it was far more complicated than he anticipated.

Dream's realizing there are consequences that come from his decision to pick Hob as a husband. He picked Hob as the human he'd most want to spend a year with, but in a "if I had to pick a human" sort of way. But Hob's immortality and friendship and good qualities with regards to Dream like his devotion and love, mean that Dream can't just fuck around, prove the point that he's fine with being human-ish for a year, without consequence. If he fucks up Hob's life, if he damages that friendship, that doesn't go away! Because Hob's not going anywhere!

So Dream is still much more in the, "Ok, what IS this year ACTUALLY going to be like, now that it turns out ALL of my assumptions about it were wrong because I deeply underestimated why Desire picked this particular setting and challenge for me and maybe possibly put more thought into planning this challenge, uniquely for me, than I put into my own plans for them if I won?"

To that end I will say: Dream just hasn't really thought about if he likes human life in this town in general yet. I'd argue that even by the end of this year, I'm not sure there's aspects of human life he's going to be particularly nostalgic for.

Thing is, this isn't Retired Dream AU. It's not like he's getting to skip out on work while he's here. Actually, Dream is doing all his usual work as Dream Lord but with 1/3 of the time to do it, as Hob sleeps at night, so if anything, he's even more overworked. This isn't a Dream who is bereft of powers, either. They're just dampened. So he's more annoyed at his limitations than he is having revelations about real human life. Because even Desire doesn't really want to live as a human, they're not doing this the way Death does it for a day, with totally memory wipe and no powers, it's at most a slightly depowered version of when Dream and Death went to the White Horse in the first place.

All the lessons for Dream have to do with Hob. Dream is seeing Hob in his (*nature documentary voice*) natural habitat: blending in as an immortal in normal human life. He's seeing Hob hold down a job, at a time when Hob doesn't have any sort of immortal reserves to fall back on, because he gave it all away as reparations and truly started again from scratch. So Hob losing his business isn't a laughing matter like it would normally be! Dream's having more time to hear Hob's life story, he's getting more opportunities for Hob to "come to his defense" and he's seeing just how much Hob cares and wants to do that.

Dream's real experience here, the thing he would look back on fondly about life in this town, is... the chance to see who Hob really is, and the realization that the person he meets at the White Horse is a very curated version of Hob, at best, and maybe not even as curated as Hob would like when Dream won't even pay attention to him for the full length of Hob's prepared report. He's learning what he means to Hob in this town, and what matters to Hob in general, and how Dream matters to Hob more than his job, or this town, or his livelihood, or any human concern. Like, it's not even close, Hob will drop everything to make Dream happy.

And that's a very novel experience for Dream, whose own wife didn't even move in with him when they were married!

And one last reason I'm not super able to say what this town means to Dream is, well, a year is a long time. A very long time to put up with small town politics. And the world is a very big place. And Hob may never get a chance like this again to live with Dream for a year.

So asking about the town is a little like asking about the starter zone in a video game ;)

#arranged marriage au dreamling #come live with me and be my love #dreamling

[ms-erin-kallus]

When the Weight's too Heavy but You Won't Let Go

Chapter 16

AO3 link ~ https://archiveofourown.org/works/44541196/chapters/136966204

Through the broken glass from the blown out windows of what was once someone’s home, a faint glow managed its way into the small room Kallus stood trapped in. The meager light afforded just enough of a break in the darkness for him to see the silhouette of a person blanketed within a large, black cape. Blended into the shadows and blocking his only means of plausible escape, they asked threateningly after a long, terse silence, “why are you following me?”

Even with the hood pulled down low enough that he couldn’t see their face, he could recognize that voice out of another million.

“Rhoan?” Kallus asked, almost unable to speak from his shock.

“I can’t believe that you were top of your class,” she quipped sarcastically. “You’re really bad at this.”

“If they catch you off base they will…” he trailed off as he intentionally ignored her insult to concentrate on the scenarios that began to run rampant in his mind.

To talk her way out of being off base and after curfew, considering the trouble that she was already in, would be an impossible feat. Even for him.

“What are you even doing out here? Why are you creeping around in the middle of the night?” he asked the still faceless voice.

A silence fell between them and the pause gave his mind time to catch up to the obvious, that’s why she’s risked being out here; what she was doing in that house.

“You’re trying to get off world.”

“Yeah, trying. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a massive orbital blockade thanks to you rescuing that girl,” she said sarcastically as she twirled her finger in a circle above her head. Her arm dropped hard to her side, “I can’t get out now,” she resigned with a quiet sigh.

Kallus’ stomach dropped to the floor. She can’t get out because of me, he realized as an unsettling feeling of dread came over him.

A single life or the whole cause? That scenario had become hard enough for him to deal with the further his foray into the workings of the rebellion went. But in their case, the situation they inadvertently found themselves in, he found things more than typically unbalanced and in his own selfish way.

“Look, I know that you mean well,” she told him and snapped his mind back to where it needed to be, “but you really should stay out of this.”

“Absolutely not-,” Kallus started before she suddenly turned and pulled the hood further over her head.

The door barely opened in her hand before something flew past her face and hit it with enough force to slam it back closed. Another rock of duracreet tossed up and fell back easily into Kallus’ hand as if to say ‘I can do this all night if need be’.

“Try it again,” he threatened with intent.

“Stop acting like a child,” she retorted as she rolled her eyes and reached behind her again.

Before she could even begin to turn the handle, the other stone sailed by her and impacted hard enough that the dilapidated metal exploded into myriad shrapnel.

Rhoan didn’t so much as flinch from it and waited a long few seconds before she turned around and glared at him, “now what are you gonna throw?”

“Myself if I have to!” Kallus snapped. “Rhoan, I am trying to help you from the force knows what,” he said a little gentler considering her penchant for violence when angered, and the fact that they were off to that kind of start. Yet again.

“I’m not asking for your help, I’m telling you that I don’t want it,” she said without conviction.

Deterrence wasn’t going to work for her like it had previously; he wasn’t going to let her get away from him as easily as he knew she could, but he didn’t know how. A picture of her file flashed through his mind as he searched desperately for anything that he could use in his favor before he lost her for good.

“I know how long that you have been here,” he blurted out, “17 bby. That’s a long time to walk away from, I know.” It was true; the only accurate information on her record was her work history. It was two decades of impeccable service that the Empire would simply ignore. “I know that you’ve only worked in departments that require skeleton crews.” Though he himself had only made a small handful of acquaintances throughout his career, she somehow had managed to have fewer, “I know that you’ve never had any real associations. That kind of self reliance would make asking for help difficult.”

With her hood still pulled down low, Kallus couldn’t gauge her reaction; her body language was even less of an indication.

Sunrise was quickly approaching, “we don’t have a lot of time.”

“No, I don’t have time,” she reminded him to reiterate that it wasn’t his problem and that she had no intention to make it that way.

Kallus let his head fall back annoyed. “You may be used to doing everything for yourself, but, whether you like it or not, you can’t do this alone,” he told her as he looked back down and took a deep breath. His next words were hard to say, and even worse to hear, “we both know what will happen-“

Before he could finish, she cut him off, “you make it sound like I’m going to be whisked away and executed mercilessly or something.”

Kallus couldn’t stop himself from yelling at her, ���you may very well be!” It was no secret that Tarkin loved to make examples of wayward employees and creativity seemed to be one of his specialties.

A terse silence fell between them again and Kallus swore that he could hear every beat of his pounding heart reverberate off of the barely standing walls around them like tiny seismic charges. Any harder and he was sure the whole structure would collapse around them.

Execution may have been an extreme, but he knew better than to hope for the best, and for some reason he couldn’t shake the feeling that his intuition was correct.

“I can get you out of here,” he told her as a plan began to form in his mind, “I will simply walk you straight to a hangar and onto a ship. If anyone dare ask, I will tell them that I have arrested you and am taking you to Coruscant to stand trial.”

That can absolutely work, especially at this hour.

The thought of her going back to the dome terrified him, but he couldn’t leave her in the city either. Especially after Konstantine had taken her advice and bolstered security pretty much everywhere that Kallus could attempt to smuggle her out of. If whoever was in that safe house couldn’t do it, then he couldn’t risk it either.

“They wouldn’t think twice about stopping us if we did it right under their noses and with conviction.” The Ghost crew had proven that time and again with their uncanny ability to sneak onto military bases and even Imperial war ships without notice. It was getting out that usually posed the biggest problem to them.

“And where are we supposed to go? Do you think they will let a defected ISB officer and naval captain just waltz away without chase?” she shook her head as if she absolutely knew that one day she would be caught by them. “They will hunt us down like game until they find us.”

Us was absolutely right. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, he wasn’t going to just abandon her to fend for herself alone. The majority of her life might have been spent on her own, but that wasn’t the case anymore regardless of the reciprocity of his feelings.

It was why he took the biggest, and potentially most fatal chance of his life.

“We can hide with the rebels.”

Even under the hood of her cape he could see the bewilderment in her eyes. “Are you fucking stupid?” she asked in a tone that wasn’t clear as to whether the question was rhetorical or not. “Do you really think they would simply just welcome you with open arms? They may be trusting to a fault, but you are ISB,” she reminded him. “That makes it different.”

The admission of his next secret he feared, might have been the tipping point that she needed to finally come to her senses and turn him in to protect herself. But he told her regardless, “I’ve been helping them.”

“Not for long enough,” she followed up quickly as she pulled the hood from her head. “It would take more than you realize.”

Kallus knew that she was right, that they wouldn’t accept either of them readily, but she had changed the subject again and he hadn’t realized it.

That was when he used the only other ammunition that she had given him.

“Would your family want you to throw away your life if you didn’t have to?”

Everything changed: the air felt colder around him as her posture instantly tensed and turned defensive. Even through the somehow darker darkness around them he could see the storm clouds that began to roil in her eyes. Yet, at the same time flashes of the despondent woman that sat across from him after the ‘events’ of the yacht party seemed to intertwine and create an unpredicted stoicism.

What happened to you?

Still, through that all, it felt to him as though she was also desperately searching for her answer before she finally spoke, “don’t you dare.”

The tone in which she warned him sent a chill down his spine and he took a small step back intuitively at it. His intent had backfired spectacularly.

Through the fog of his racing mind, coupled with the gloom that the long gone moons had left behind them, he didn’t notice that in one inarguably fast move, Rhoan had knelt to the floor, grabbed a rock of her own and threw it at him with surprising accuracy and strength.

Yet somehow, Kallus was able to duck out of its way and as he quickly stood back up to protect himself from another projectile, he noticed that the crouched position she dropped into had left her just vulnerable enough that he could rush at and possibly overtake her.

Her back slammed into the wall harder than Kallus meant when he charged her, but the panic was beginning to become uncontrollable. Both of her wrists were pinned against the wall at her sides before he realized that he had done it.

“Rhoan, please-“ he started before she quickly hit him with an intentionally vicious verbal gut punch.

“Looks like you finally got me where you want me.”

What she said hurt; he couldn’t lie. The continuous and unforeseen guilt that began to build up in him from that night forward would never cease. Somehow, he knew that she knew it too. That kind of intuition was an intelligently effective weapon that she had honed to perfection.

“That’s not going to work again,” he said quietly down into her ear, close enough that he could feel her body heat against his own reddened skin.

There was no response and he hoped it was the realization that he was both completely serious about her situation and that he was sincerely scared that he wouldn’t be able to do enough to protect her. That she would get hurt from his shortcomings.

Her wrists twitched in his grip, but he didn’t let go because he knew what would happen if he did. “You’re wasting time and we need to get back to the dome before anyone notices.” Kallus looked around nervously, “if they were to catch you in what could be construed as a rebel safe house,” he cautioned as he reluctantly pulled himself away from her warmth just enough to look at her to reinforce his concern.

Hazel green eyes focused back deeply into his own with a look he hadn’t expected, “I doubt that anyone will notice. They didn’t notice, or even care, when you disappeared on Bahryn,” she said somberly.

Kallus wasn’t buying her sudden concern for his well being and leaned back down, straight in her face. “Stop. Deflecting.”

Soft moonlight shone down onto a face quickly more recognizable, “what do you expect me to do, Kallus?” she derided him loud enough that he was sure the entire neighborhood heard. “I can’t get off of the planet and there’s nowhere to hide here, remember?”

“Rhoan,” Kallus began before she immediately cut him off.

“Look, it’s just minor assault,” she admitted more quietly. “Perhaps if I cooperate and show some well faked remorse-“

“I just caught you trying to escape the planet minutes ago!” he yelled. “How have you so effortlessly and indifferently decided to just accept what is about to happen to you?”

“Look, this is where I belong, where I need to be,” she paused for effect, ”my allegiances have never wavered because of emotions or fears.”

Kallus stared at her blankly, “you were just trying to leave.”

“I’ve come to my senses.”

With that, one of his biggest fears proved true, they had brainwashed her to the point that she couldn’t think for herself anymore. Escape was no more than a short lived reflex of self preservation.

“I know how much intelligence goes through you.” Droid maintenance didn’t appear to be an important job to most, but he knew otherwise. In actuality she held one of the most important positions on the planet and she did it without notice or bother. “You’ve seen what they are doing, you can’t deny that most of their actions are despicable atrocities of the worst kind and that they are multiplying exponentially.”

“Yeah, but those weren’t my decisions. I don’t work in the field or blindly follow their orders,” she said as she looked straight at him. It was as if she deliberately wanted to remind him that he had done those things, and he had done them recently.

Again, her words cut through him with surgical precision.

“I simply just pass on information to where I need it to go.”

Kallus shook his head, “I know that you still have a conscience, you’ve shown me that firsthand.” There was no way he was going to let her use something like that to get to him again. “And I’ve seen it more than once,” he reminded her.

I’ve seen it, Rhoan.

It wasn’t enough to sway her and she tilted her head at him knowingly, “I have the wit to understand the risks I’ve taken and I’ve come to terms with that.”

“But somehow you don’t have the understanding to know what they will do to you? I’ve seen those things, Rhoan, the ones that don’t get passed through messenger droids or stormtrooper gossip, and for a reason!”

That feeling he couldn’t shake only intensified with his heed.

“It’s only minor assault. From what I’ve seen about the guy, I’m doing the Empire a favor,” she said as if she had read his mind. “I may be a hermit but at least I’m not a dick that’s terrible at her job.”

“They won’t care about that! They won’t care about your career, Rhoan. They wont care how long you’ve served or how well.” Kallus could no longer control himself, “they will arrest you and most likely make an example of you!” he almost yelled in her face.

“This isn’t your problem, Kallus. You really need to stay out of it,” she replied simply.

“No,” he told her in the same matter-of-factly tone that she always used on him when she wanted him to know that she wasn’t going to argue further, “I’m not going to let this happen. Not without a fight, so it looks like that if you go down,” he grabbed hold of her gaze and didn’t let go so as to convey the gravity of what he was telling her, “then I’m going with you.”

For the first time, Kallus managed to leave her speechless.

Or so he thought.

“That’s just stupid,” she answered sarcastically.

Kallus cursed her under his breath as rage quickly began to overtake his panic. “I can’t leave you here; you don’t have to stay with me, but you are not staying here. I won’t let you.”

“I’m not leaving,” she retorted, unwavering in her decision. “I shouldn’t have even tried to go in the first place.” Her eyes fell to the ground, “I could’ve put those people in danger,” she said with quiet remorse.

It’s never herself, even when it needs to be.

“You need to think about you,” he pleaded her, desperate for her to come to her senses. “There is nothing here for you anymore.”

“Everything is here: my home, my job, my purpose,” she told him. “This has become my life.”

Rhoan, you’re smarter than this.

Kallus jumped on a potential opportunity, “you destroyed your place here when you let yourself lose control.”

Her head shook slightly as if she was refusing to hear the truth or accept her mistake before she looked up at him with complete resolve. “I’ll take my chances with the Empire.”

For the life of him, Kallus could not figure out what exactly she was holding on to there, on Lothal or within the Empire or whatever, wherever. There was no way that she could possibly think that what was waiting for her would be something she could simply walk away from. Especially if she thought that her service would be enough to save her. The Empire’s brainwashing techniques were impressively and terrifyingly effective. Kallus tried one last time before he would have to finally let her go.

“Rhoan,” he began as he searched desperately for words that he suddenly couldn’t find. “There’s no easy way to hear this,” he looked down at her helplessly. Whatever it was that she was holding onto, it needed to end. Quickly.

“It’s time to let go.”

“Do not assume that you may tell me what to do,” she snapped, unable to hide the raw emotion that suddenly dominated her in every sense that it could. The reaction wasn’t what Kallus had expected and he immediately regretted pulling her pain out from wherever she had locked it away for him to witness.

It was hard for him to watch her unable to control herself.

Kallus felt her try to shake loose from the grip he still held but he wouldn’t let go. The timing may have been as bad as it could have, and it may not have been his place, but she was going to at least listen to him for once. “You’re only hurting yourself.”

“I deserve it!” she cried up at him with the unequivocal anguish of someone that was suffering. “I deserve the pain and the guilt and the nightmares,” she growled as she stood up onto her toes and put her face straight into his.

“I deserve it all.”

Neither of them so much as breathed. Kallus because the part of her that he thought he wanted to see was broken almost beyond repair, and she at the realization that she had shown that to him.

Rhoan fell back down onto her feet, “It’s my penance,” she whispered as her head hung low. “It was supposed to be both of us,” she whispered so quietly the Kallus only heard us.

That’s when he realized that she wasn’t holding onto something, she was holding onto someone.

Kallus’ heart fell into his stomach as he felt the hardened stone held within his tight grasp suddenly melt as she conceded for the second time that night.

A wave of something within him, something that he couldn’t understand, suddenly surrounded and permeated all the way into his bones. It took over him so strongly that it felt as if he no longer held his own control. “Rhoan,” he said down to her affectionately, but was met with little response.

Her misery felt as if it was also his own. It was suffocating.

One of his hands let go of her and he gently used a finger to lift her still twisted face to his own, “it’s been long enough.”

Even through the darkness of the night he could easily see that her eyes glassed over at his words as she silently stared back at him. As a small tear fell down the side of her face, a knot formed in his throat.

Before he could realize that he had done it, Kallus let his fingers draw along her jawline and his thumb gently wiped it away before he let his hand cradle her head behind her ear. The usual tension that seemed to always radiate from her vanished and left behind an unforeseen calm and ease at his touch.

He prayed that it was progress.

Lost in the moment he hadn’t noticed that her freed hand was wrapped lightly around his forearm and her head tilted so slightly into his palm that he wasn’t sure if it really was or if he was just hoping that it had. Regardless, he did know that she wasn’t breathing.

A small, unsure sigh quietly broke the silence before his forehead leaned gently against hers. The two of them stood, one in quiet contemplation and the other in hopeful anticipation, as a warm breeze blew in from the window at their side and played at the loose hair that fell around her face.

Kallus could’ve stood there forever, but time wasn’t on their side. It never would be.

“Rhoan,” he said quietly, necessarily, but reluctant, to break whatever it was that had taken over.

Finally, he felt her take a small breath in before she looked up at him. The grip on his arm tightened but she didn’t move as he leaned down to fit his face into hers.

There was no intense excitement or metaphorical fireworks or even an uncontrollable heartbeat in his chest as he let the soft skin of her nose brush against his own. What he thought would be unbridled exhilaration, was instead a peace so serene it felt almost familiar.

The feeling was short lived.

As she gave into yet another defeat, he felt her gently shake her head as she pulled away from him. Her eyes fell as hard as her hand from his arm, and with it he realized that she had shown him the obvious.

Again.

As much as he wanted to say or do something, he didn’t. Whether she wanted to accept it or not, he had helped her make a small amount of the much needed progress that she was incapable of doing solely on her own.

He wasn’t about to shatter it with the necessity of what he wanted from her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered so quietly that he didn’t hear her before she turned and quickly opened the door to disappear into the cool night air.

Kallus stood immobilized in the doorway for what felt like an eternity as the darkest part of night fell heavily upon the city.

It’s time you let go too.

The Empire was going to take her, he knew it, and he would never see her again. Even if they didn’t, if she managed to get off world before they could, she would vanish and he would never get to look into that pair of tormented hazel green eyes again.

His own eyes closed as he took in a deep breath, you tried, he told himself as he walked outside into the stilled air and looked up at a sky littered with thousands upon thousands of stars. Make a wish, he thought childishly before a voice to his side startled him.

“Are you not coming?” Rhoan asked as she stood in the middle of the street. The dark hood of her cloak lay haphazardly on her shoulders and she still blended almost completely into the darkness around her as she stood motionless and anticipated his answer. It was as if she had been waiting on him the whole time.

“What?” Kallus asked, confused.

Her head nodded toward the dome, “it’ll be dawn soon.”

~

Before he knew it, the two of them were standing silently in a lift. As Kallus’ heart was forced deeper into his stomach by a ruthless unease, the cabin lifted higher into the dome,

the dome that he was desperate to get her out of.

The lights above them beat down upon him with an unrelentingly hot and harsh white brightness, and as the stagnation around him slowly pulled the air from his lungs he could feel the sweat begin to accumulate under his collar. It was a build up of something that he rarely felt.

Fear.

Rhoan suddenly turned and looked up at him with intensity in her eyes so strong that he could’ve sworn that the lights dimmed around them and mercifully allowed him to breath again.

Regardless, the forebodings still remained.

What felt like a slow eon of watching pensive eyes look through him she quickly and unexpectedly turned forward and pushed a button on the control panel, the level to her workshop.

“Rho-“

“It’s time,” she said simply without looking back up at him.

“Rho-“

“I have to get R3 first,” she told him more than she asked and he knew better than to argue it. “And do one other quick thing.”

Whatever gets you off of this planet.

“I,” she started before she stopped and took a deep breath to collect herself. “Thank you,” she told him quietly before she looked up to him, a different woman, and let the corner of her mouth raise just enough for him to notice.

“Rho-“

The lift doors opened and the undeniable sound of shifting body armor tore his gaze from her.

“Rhoan Rial?” a cocky voice asked from behind the four death troopers that stood in the hallway, two on each side of its source.

Without hesitation or even cognizance, Kallus grabbed Rhoan by the arm and yanked her backward hard as he intentionally positioned himself between her and the threat he wouldn’t allow harm her. “What is this?” he asked, barely able to hide the panic in his voice.

“That is none of your concern,” the man said sarcastically as he sauntered up to them, “agent.”

Kallus took a threatening step forward, his anxiety instantly melted away, as muscle memory instinctively kicked in. Menacingly, he lifted his chin as his hands clasped behind his back, “she is an important witness in an investigation that I am leading.” His chest puffed out naturally, the way it always did when intimidation was necessary. “An investigation spearheaded by grand admiral Thrawn himself.”

“Your investigation is no longer relevant,” the man that Kallus noticed wore no insignia and his cap pulled down low, scoffed. “She is coming with us.”

“Under whose authority,” Kallus snapped before soft fingers wrapped loosely around his tightly fisted hands.

Rhoan had stepped up against his back without notice, “I need you alive,” she whispered up to his ear.

Kallus looked down and to his side with only his eyes, “Rho-,” he began before he felt her lean her forehead against him and her hands squeeze his harder.

While he fell deeper into his terror, as he watched his biggest fear play out right in front of him, Rhoan had gently moved him to the side. Kallus couldn’t move as she easily stepped around him and toward their shared nightmare before he could stop her.

“Hands up!” a scrambled voice barked at her as she readily complied.

The person behind the dark, black armor grabbed her wrist and slammed her hard into the wall at her side with easy delight.

Kallus heard the sickening, and regrettably, familiar sound of her head hit the cold duracreet hard. They had pinned her so that she faced away from him and, for a moment, he was glad that she was. What he was watching was bad enough, but the look that he knew was in her eyes would’ve been too much for him to handle, and would’ve haunted him until his last breath.

Rhoan let out a pained cry as her arm was twisted forcefully behind her and half of a binder slapped around her wrist.

“She is complying!” Kallus screamed unintentionally as he stepped out of the lift to intervene.

“As I said before, she is also no longer your concern,” the mystery man snarked as Kallus watched her other arm wretched behind her as the trooper pushed her harder into the wall before she was bound and pulled violently back by her arm.

Rhoan stumbled at it and the trooper caught her by a handful of her hair and pulled her upright. The sound of pain that she made was Kallus’ moment of truth.

“This is completely unnecessary!” he yelled authoritatively as he began toward her with violent intent. Four stormtroopers he could take easily, but these weren’t the Empire’s typical soldiers and he wasn’t sure that his training and/or strength would be enough to compensate for the difference. Regardless, he was going to try.

I need you alive.

Kallus stopped his pursuit; it was another of the night’s many concessions.

The man in the typical, yet lacking, Imperial uniform simply and silently used the back of his hand to sarcastically push Kallus aside before he stepped onto the lift.

Kallus saw red when he was deliberately shoved out of their way as the troopers drove Rhoan on board. A blur of dark hair stumbled past him before the four sentries turned to face forward, two in front of her and two behind.

It was the last he saw of her, and he feared it would be ever.

As the doors closed on her, he felt like a part of him was going with her.

Kallus stood paralyzed by what he was sure was simply some sort of depraved hallucination. But it wasn’t, and a relentless tightness in his chest made each heart beat so hard that he thought he would vomit. The numbness in his hands began to crawl up his arms and he shook them uselessly as he desperately tried to regain any sense of composure that refused to come.

They dragged her away and all he did was stand and watch.

A quiet sound suddenly drew his attention to his side. At the end of the hallway, just outside of the large doors that led into the area where they stayed overnight, sat a motionless green droid,

“do something.”

A panic, that somehow left him clear headed, immediately set in and Kallus slammed the side of his fist against the button to operate the lift repeatedly until it could finally oblige him. When he stepped onboard and turned to look back to R3, they were gone.

~

A few unnerving minutes later, Kallus paced nervously in his office as he furiously scrolled through the crime blotter on his datapad, please please please, he repeated until he froze and the device fell from his hands.

AWOL`

#star wars rebels #star wars #alexsandr kallus #agent kallus #hot kallus #kallus #rebel kallus #star wars rebels fanfic

[girlinlotsoffandoms]

day eighteen - in remembrance

notes: woooo lawdy. febwhump did not go how I intended it to when I started, but I'm committed to finishing it out! enjoy this next chapter!

read on AO3 or below

Something was up with Kelly; Stella just didn’t know what.

There hadn’t been any rougher than normal calls, their relationship was solid, everything was good and yet, something was wrong. He was quiet and withdrawn, especially at the firehouse, and he wasn’t snippy per se, but he was a bit more irritable.

Stella had tried talking to him but he always brushed her off, insisting he was fine. She knew he wasn’t but she’d also learned, after all their years together, that pushing Kelly to talk about his feelings usually didn’t work well. Stella would just have to wait until Kelly was ready to talk. 

It took a few hours, close to the end of shift, but Kelly eventually came knocking at the door of Stella’s quarters.

“We don’t have any plans after shift, right?”

“Uh, no,” Stella answered, confused. “Not that I know of.”

Kelly gave her a small, half smile. “Good. I want to take you somewhere.”

Stella nodded. “Okay!”

Kelly left, returning to his own quarters, that small smile still on his face. Stella smiled after him but it was a sad smile. Kelly’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and she hoped their after-shift adventure would tell her why….and how to fix it.

… … …

Stella had no idea where they were going. Kelly hadn’t given her any information when she asked as they left the firehouse and the car ride was silent apart from the soft tunes coming from the radio. Not even the sights out of the windows gave her any hints as to what they were doing. 

She was thinking about all the places they could be going but Stella never imagined they’d end up where they did. To say she was shocked when Kelly stopped the car outside of a cemetery would be an understatement. Stella was so surprised by their location, she hadn’t even noticed Kelly had gotten out of the car until he opened her door for her. 

Quickly, Stella got out of the car to meet Kelly. “A cemetery?” she asked Kelly quietly. 

Kelly took her hand and led them down the main path. “I know, it’s a little weird but there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Stella quirked an eyebrow but nodded. This wasn’t what she was expecting.

Kelly continued to lead them down the path until finally, they veered off and came to a stop in front of a simple but beautiful tombstone. Stella’s heart stuttered when she read the name etched onto it.

Leslie Elizabeth Shay

“I know I’ve been a little off recently,” Kelly started. His thumb ran over Stella’s hand, as if to calm himself, and his eyes never left Shay’s tombstone. “It was Shay’s birthday yesterday and it normally doesn’t affect me this much but a lot has happened this year and I just…”

“You miss her more than normal,” Stella finished. “Because you wanted her to be there.”

Kelly nodded. “She was with me through so many low points in my life, I wish she could’ve been around for the high points too. She would have loved you.”

Stella smiled and laid her head on Kelly’s shoulder. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

After a minute or two, Stella turned towards Kelly and waited until he moved to face her. Stella used her hands to cup his face. “Shay would’ve been so proud of everything you’ve done and how far you’ve come.”

Kelly nodded because he did know that. It didn’t make things easier, especially when he still did stupid things that would have Shay smacking him if she were still here. 

“Tell me about her?” Stella asked sweetly and a genuine smile crossed Kelly’s face for the first time in days. 

He launched into story after story of who Shay was and how she impacted him and the others at 51. Some of the stories Stella had heard before, either from Kelly, Gabby, or someone else at the firehouse, but some stories were new. Not for the first time, Stella wished she could’ve met the blonde in person and thanked her for everything she did for Kelly. 

Kelly’s stories spanned over their time at the cemetery and the car ride back to the loft. There was still sadness in Kelly’s eyes but the light had also started to return. His smile was more genuine and his body seemed less tense than it was a few hours earlier. 

It was nearing lunch by the time they arrived back at the loft. After an easy meal (both too emotionally exhausted to do anything more than simple), there was one more thing Kelly wanted to show Stella: the contract video. He hadn’t watched it in a long, long time but he knew exactly where it was. No matter where he moved to, his contract video with Shay would be going with him.  

Kelly got it set up on the TV and joined Stella on the couch right as the video started. As Shay’s face popped up on the screen and her voice started to play through the speakers, Stella felt Kelly’s body relax into hers. She couldn’t help but feel comforted as well by the love, trust, and friendship displayed on the screen. As the screen faded to black, Stella turned to face Kelly. She cupped his face and repeated the words she’d said earlier. “Shay would’ve been so proud of you. I’m so proud of you and I love you so much. Thank you for sharing Shay with me.”

#febwhump #sev whump #mayday mayday #kelly severide #stella kidd #stellaride #leslie shay #contract video

[kinthinia]

Life Update

I don't really talk about my personal life online anymore, but I find myself wanting to today.

I used to shout into the ether over in my deviantart days, but I feel a little like I've outgrown that site. And also that site for writing is kind of dead, and didn't tumblr start out as a blog anyways?

I don't actually know the answer to that question...

Two years ago, I got engaged. I was working at a job I loved. What I didn't know at the time, was that the job I was working at was slowly, insidiously becoming more and more toxic. I was told when I signed up that it was a small, quiet office, and I really believed that. Mondays were the busy day, I did the scheduling for just two people, it was good.

But when I needed to get a sub to cover my position, they'd cover one vacation and often decline because the office was busy. Busy was the answer I kept getting back. And the people I worked for kept insisting the office was slow and how lucky I was to work in such a slow-moving office.

I made average, normal mistakes and was shamed in front of clients and given no way to voice how I was feeling because every reprimand was done in public in front of clients. I can't tell you how small that makes you feel.

This culminated in my work putting together a staff meeting and I was really excited to be able to voice my side of things, of how busy the office had actually started to feel for me, how I couldn't keep up with anything. But I couldn't quite pinpoint why. But instead, my employers sat me down and told me that I was the problem, that it was my mental health, that I had depression.

I didn't get to share my side of the story.

I went to my doctor. I was diagnosed with anxiety and low mood, PTSD, RSD and a handful of other diagnoses that have no bearing or major influence on my life that I can't even remember all of them. Minor doctor lingo stuff for putting feelings inside of boxes with a neat little label that is seldom useful.

I started seeing a therapist. She aslo agreed with my doctor that my anxiety and low mood weren't actually impacting me at my job, because my PTSD manifests in heavy masking and I would almost rather die than break down or fail at my performance based job.

I stopped writing. I just... couldn't. I had a window where I had a good thing going before it literally blew up in my hands.

I want to say, all of this was going on while I was knee-deep in planning a wedding.

A month and a half before my wedding, my work informed me that my hours were being cut. Effective within a week. They'd hired someone to replace me. They reminded me during this 'meeting' that I hadn't earned 23$ an hour as a wage because they'd noticed that I wasn't keeping up with the workflow. I asked in what way and they stated "let's not talk about specifics."

They hired a temp I had cover me for a week during xmas, the deadest week of the year and said that the office flowed so much smoother when she was around. Geez, wonder how that's possible.

For some context, I went from having 2 people who's schedules I booked. ALSO these people didn't tell me until maybe 2 weeks beforehand if they had a major meeting or anything going on, and I was expected to just know they had this as an issue.

Anyways. They hired my replacement at 30$ an hour.

I stuck it out because my wedding was less than a month away. I got married. My employers who were supposed to be in my party and show up, called like 14 hours before my wedding to cancel.

I was effectively let go while I was on my week off to celebrate my wedding.

I want to mention around this point I did start taking medication to some success.

I found a new job. I didn't transition well. I got another job. It's been nearly a year and I finally feel like I'm settling in and I don't have to worry about being stabbed in the back.

I want to preface this by saying, like the way I got hired at that initial job was because I was friends with the owner. The employer behind everything. Did you know she didn't even message me congrats until a week after my wedding that she was supposed to be in? Not even a condolence from her or her husband after my mom died.

And I'd known her husband for six years. Six years.

I'm obviously better off without them, that much is more than clear, but also....

Writing has been hard. Life has been hard.

I've been very... empty for the last two years. Despite my marriage being amazing, my husband is great, my wedding was amazing, everything else around that, including parts of my honeymoon have been an empty, agonizing.... blah. Blegh. A nothingness. The absence of warmth, if you will.

ANYWAYS it's been 3 weeks without that feeling. And I've started writing again. I'm 6 campaigns deep into Baldur's Gate 3. I like k-pop now.

If you made it this far, thanks for sticking with me.

#life update #about me #long #tldr life was sad #anxiety #depression #work life issues

[ghostbustermelanieking]

this is a stupid post to make, but i want to write it down somewhere. our flag means death has always been a really special show for me bc i started it when i was in a really low place, in an attempt to cheer myself up, and it worked. i rewatched that first season in a way i don't really rewatch stuff (and i rewatch stuff a LOT), and it brought the same high every time. i forced it onto my friends and most of them found the same joy in it. it didn't fix the things making my life hell at the moment, but it gave me something else to think about -- and it also had the advantage of intersecting with several other interests i had. similarly, when season 2 came out, i was in a bad place, that's only gotten worse over time. and ofmd was a bright spot, something fun to think about in the quiet moments. a distraction i haven't really had in a long time -- i pulled out of fandom a lot out of 2021, and these past few months have been my first step back in. and without going into too much detail, these past few weeks specifically have been hell. so the news of the cancelation feels like an extra gut punch -- the latest denial of things i enjoy, the latest in a string of disappointments (and i've had a LOT of disappointment lately). i know it's silly to be this upset about something this small in the grand scheme of things, with all the horrible things happening right now. i know it's silly for me specifically to be upset when this show meant a lot more to a lot of other people in comparison. but i don't think most fans would argue that the show was special, and that it left a huge impact on us; and i know a lot of people are sad rn. i'm really sad. that's just what i wanted to say. ofmd was/is a show that has made me happy in some very bad times. and i'm really really sad that i won't get to see how it ended.

#*new streaming service pick it up PLEASE #anyways. yeah. sorry i literally have no person in the state i can talk to rn and calling people upset about this feels insane #so this post #i'm gonna try to find something else to think about so hopefully i can salvage my night

[set-phasers-to-whump]

no one left behind

prompt: rope burns

whumpee: neal caffrey

fandom: white collar

hi here's an ol reliable wc fic...it unfortunately is not the best bc i am so busy and tired lmao. life is sure a thing this week. but we're managing. we're managing. anyway hope you enjoy!

Neal’s entire body aches. He doesn't know how long he’s been here, hanging by his wrists from what he’s pretty sure is a pipe. At first the pain had been sharp, the feeling of his shoulders being wrenched nearly out of their sockets, the strain on his muscles as he’d tried and failed to keep his feet in contact with the ground, the burn of the coarse rope against his skin. 

Now, though, it all just aches. He’s become used to the pain, such that it’s no longer sharp and overpowering. It’s just there. 

He wishes terribly that someone would come into this empty room. He can’t talk his way out of a situation if there’s no one to listen. 

He can’t wriggle his way out, either. He’d tried. Many times. The ropes are too thick and too well-tied for him to be able to move his wrists at all. They’ve gone sort of numb, in fact, from being pressed up against each other. 

He’s just stuck. He’d tried shouting, offering information, threatening, begging. Nothing had worked. No one had come. He hasn’t seen a single person the whole time he’s been here, wherever here is. He’d simply woken up, in complete darkness and with his head aching and fuzzy, in exactly the same position that he is currently in. 

He doesn’t know who has him. Why they have him. Part of him, the part that wants to be the cool con artist, the professional CI, is annoyed. He’s just sitting - hanging - here. And for what? The least his captors could do is give him the courtesy of knowing why they’ve taken him. 

But another part of him, the part that’s just Neal Caffrey with no strings attached, is anxious and afraid and hurting and wants nothing at all except to get out, to be somewhere safe. 

Nothing happens, for better or worse, for another similarly unidentifiable stretch of time. Neal wishes there was a window in this room to let in some light. Wishes he could hear anything at all besides his own breathing. Wishes the horrible ache would just go away. 

He is still completely alone. 

And then he isn’t. 

A door opens on the opposite side of the room, looking impossibly far away. He’d had no idea it was even there in the darkness. But it’s certainly there now, letting in a small amount of light which silhouettes a figure. 

He doesn’t know who it is, besides, he figures, someone involved with whatever’s going on. He wants to yell at them, wants to say something witty, to complain, to question, to plead. He wants them to let him go. To tell him what it is they want, so he can give it to them or figure out a way to lie about giving it to them. 

All he manages to say is, “please.”

The person comes closer. The light from the door isn’t strong enough to illuminate the whole room, and they pass into darkness as they get closer. Neal feels like he can barely breathe. His body tenses up, waiting for a blow. 

It never comes. Instead, he hears a familiar voice call his name. 

“Neal?”

“Peter?”

“Where are you?”

He has no idea how to answer that. “Here,” is the best he can offer. 

“There’s no light switch in this room, can you believe that? All this space and nothing to light it up. Just hold on, I’m coming to you.”

Peter’s voice does indeed sound like it is steadily getting closer. Neal learns this for certain when Peter walks right into him. 

The impact makes him swing slightly, makes the pain in his wrists and shoulders spike. He makes a low, quiet noise of pain that is nonetheless very audible in the silence. 

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m not bleeding.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m hanging by my wrists from…a pipe or something.”

“Okay,” Peter says, like this is totally normal, like everything is going to be okay. Which it is, Neal knows, now that he’s here. “I’m gonna cut you down.”

With sort of vague directions from Neal, Peter manages to find the rope that is tying him to the pipe. Once they’re both sure he’s not in danger of cutting Neal instead of the rope, he saws through it with a pocketknife. 

This takes an excruciatingly long time, and every tiny movement of the knife causes the rope to move, which causes a wave of pain to travel down Neal’s arms. 

And then, at long last, the rope breaks. Neal collapses to the ground immediately, the other end of the rope still tied firmly around his wrists. 

The impact hurts, sure, but it alleviates the strain that had been placed on his shoulders for so long. He’d be very content to just lie there on the floor for a long time, but then Peter’s next to him asking if he can walk. 

“Probably,” he decides. 

He can walk, it turns out. After some fumbling, Peter gets Neal to his feet. It feels weird standing up normally, both of his feet firmly on the ground. 

They walk closer and closer to the door, until at last they’re in the light. Neal looks at Peter for the first time. He looks exactly the same as he always does. He’s wearing the same clothes he was wearing the last time Neal saw him, which means Neal hasn’t been here too long. He supposes there’s some comfort in that. 

They pass through the door and into a hallway. In the full, almost blinding, light, Neal looks down at his wrists. 

The rope is still there. It looks like any other rope might. Brown and sturdy. He thinks he probably could escape from it now, but he’s exhausted and starting to feel shaky and it’s going to hurt, so he doesn’t try. Peter will be able to do it, anyway, once they’re out of here. 

They walk through a veritable maze of hallways until suddenly, Peter opens a door and they’re outside. It’s evening and there are other buildings nearby, all industrial. Neal turns around and looks at the place that had been his prison. It just looks like all of the other buildings. Nothing special at all.  

The Taurus is here, looking distinctly out of place in its surroundings. Neal wonders for a second about why it’s only Peter here - this seems like the kind of place where backup might be appreciated - but then Peter’s unlocking the car and telling Neal to sit down in the passenger seat and he stops thinking about it. 

Sitting down feels just as nice as lying on the floor. The complete absence of any strain on his body is wonderful. The aches are all still there, of course, but everything feels much more bearable now. 

Peter is crouched in front of him with his pocketknife, cutting through the rope for a second time. This seems to Neal to be a much quicker process than cutting him down had been. 

After a minute or two, the rope simply falls away. Neal flexes his wrists. They hurt, scraped raw and red. He stares at them and thinks about the fact that these fairly mild injuries are the only physical evidence of the pain he’d experienced. Probably this is a good thing, he thinks. Rope burns are easy to deal with. They aren’t even bleeding, much less threatening to leave scars. 

Peter drives them out of the industrial lot. Neal catches a glimpse of the sunset as they pull onto the road. It’s brilliantly orange, almost surreal after spending so much time in the dark. 

“Where are we going?” he asks, wondering whether there will be anything standing in the way of him simply collapsing into his bed and falling asleep for a very long time. He only wishes he didn’t have to go home to an otherwise empty apartment. He’s had enough solitude for quite a while. 

“Home,” Peter offers. “I’ll make up the guest room.”

Home, Neal repeats in his mind, turning the word over and over. The Burkes’ guest room. A big, comfortable bed and other people nearby.

Nothing in the world sounds better than this. 

thanks for reading! i did not do much editing so i am sorry if there's mistakes. also i fear tomorrow's fic will also be not so good bc i am again busy as hell...so unfair that school is kicking my ass when it's literally my birthday next week lol

#whumptober2022 #no.26 #rope burns #white collar #fic #neal caffrey #tied up #held captive #my writing #i say things #oughh. pain. it'll be fine tho. just busy busy busy

[amaranthhiding]

A Metal Pursued by the Witless is FINISHED!

(Yep, you read that right. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s done. I posted all three final chapters in one go.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43389420

Pairings: Sam/Rowena Rating: Explicit Words: 46,557 Chapters: 11/11 Tags: Adventure & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Action, Humor, Magic, Witchcraft, Curse Breaking, Travel to Exotic Location, Soft Rowena, Protective Sam, Protective Rowena, Mutual Pining, Sam POV, Rowena POV Prompt: SPN RarePairTober 2022 day 19 prompt “Fool’s Gold” Summary: Rowena shows up at the bunker after she has been targeted by a lethal curse with the sole goal of destroying her. Under the shadow of this ticking timer of doom, she and Sam are left with a handful of days to prevent a slow, painful death. The search for a cure sees them on a last-minute flight to Central America. (Or my attempt to escape the cold and gray of real-life winter by traveling to faraway places in my mind.)

Cover created by the author [The hidden jaguar silhouette in the image above is taken from silhouettegarden.com.]

Excerpt of chapter 9 under the cut:

For several long seconds, the silence was broken by nothing but the low hum of magic near the stairway. Then she heard something like a cough, certain it stemmed from the opening in the ground. Oh, bloody Hell. She really had to crawl over there in the most undignified manner, didn't she? At least the Coven wouldn't bear witness. That small reserve of strength she'd found somewhere inside of herself was used up like nothing as she pulled herself through the grass. Despite her own labored breaths, she tried to listen intently so that she wouldn't miss any further sounds from below. Her body seemed to consist of nothing but pain at this point and she just wanted it to stop, to receive a single moment of peace so that she could catch her breath again. But alas, she was well aware there were only two possible paths out of this for her, and one of those ended in Hellfire. The other… She heard a quiet splash, somewhere deep down in the darkness of the lower level of the ruins, followed by another cough. And then a breathless call of her own name, tinged in enough desperation that it touched that frozen spot inside of her which she'd only recently discovered was still alive. If she hadn't made up her mind already, she surely would have now. After one last glance at her dead nemesis who had so kindly shown her the way, she thought, 'To Hell with it all,' and rolled herself over the edge of that dark opening with all the elegance of a felled tree. As she dropped through the air rapidly, she thought that if Sam did even so much as hint again that he didn't have her trust, she'd forever remind him of this moment. Cold water broke her fall none too gently, causing new pain to surge through her body. The waves of her impact crashed down on her, surrounding her from all sides and pulling her deeper, ever deeper. Having lost all sense of direction, she struggled weakly in the doomed attempt to swim with a body that had given up on her. As water rushed into her lungs, she thought that maybe she should have chosen Hellfire after all. Then she felt an arm around her midsection that steered her back to the water surface where she coughed and wheezed for air even more vehemently than before. Sam's body was warm in the cold water, giving her a focal point as she got her bearings, blinking against the drops splashing into her face. Read the full story on AO3. @spnrarepairbunker

#spnrarepairtober #rarepairtober 2022 #yes yes I KNOW it's almost February #but this ended up running away from me entirely and has over 46k words! lol #Samwena #samwitch #sam x rowena #sam winchester #sam #rowena macleod #rowena #spn #my writing #a metal pursued by the witless #amaranthfics #amaranthart

[terrible-leviathan]

AU: SBI are all royals but the death of their youngest prince has caused them to kidnap Tommy’s best friend. Watch as the SBI go through the five stages of grief but firmly keep themselves at the Denial stage. 

---

It was a quiet night in the Antarctic Empire. 

The daily activities of the kingdom left all of them tired, snuffing all the fire and lights out in their tiny homes and shops that left a lull in the dark air. There were the owls hooting in the air and the gentle cricket sounds off into the distance as per usual. It would’ve been a normal night if not for the battalion of knights scattered among the kingdom. 

Techno had to hold back a sneer from forming, a heavy dread churning at the pit of his stomach that wanted to make him puke. Yet, he continues to glare at the big arching window, his frown deepening as he watches the knight bumble around looking for his runaway brother and his servant. 

Gods, what was Tommy thinking? If this is how Tommy wanted to get their attention then it’s the stupidest thing he has ever done. 

Techno was just sleeping soundly in his room till Wilbur barged in, his labored breaths and panicked face completely vanished the grogginess of sleep wrapped in Techno’s brain.

Without a moment too soon, they both quickly ran to his father’s private chambers. Everything seemed the same, the personal wall of the bookshelf on one side, a desk with gilded corners sat in the middle, a roaring fireplace on the other side with couches and chairs facing it, and two large overarching windows where you could practically see the entire kingdom, and, finally, his father.

To anyone else, Philza would seem calm, but Techno could see the tightness in how he clenches his jaw, his wings drooping in dread, and the raging ocean roiling in his eyes.

Neither of them asked, but they immediately knew...Tommy's gone.

In such urgent matters, there would be a loud bell ringing across the kingdom to alert their citizens. Normally, that bell would symbolize luck, fortune, and serenity, the Lady of Creation gifting them Her blessing through various ways but in times such as these it would symbolize dread and fear. So Philza, the kind hearted king that he is, didn’t want to disturb his citizens, especially when it was just Tommy running away. 

So here they are now, the kingdom as quiet and still as it can be as Techno glares over the kingdom through the window, Wilbur pacing back and forth for the hundredth time muttering to himself, and Philza trying to calm himself as he stares into the crackling fire pit. 

Techno wonders why Tommy would even run away from home. He held down the growl clawing its way out. Tommy had everything as any young prince would have, he had servants to his beck and call, he could request any expensive item and it would be brought to him immediately, he had a loving family, for fucks sake. So why would he-

A loud bang interrupted his thoughts as the large wooden doors were slammed open by a guard, dragging a struggling and bloodied cloaked figure as they tried pulling away from the tight iron grip of the guard, but to no avail. 

Without a hint of sympathy, the guard harshly shoves the cloaked figure, letting out a loud thud as their hood was pushed upon impact and revealing a tousled brown mop of hair and a clearly beaten face. But that didn’t matter when he saw the glint of a small emerald hair clip on the boy—the jewel only given to the members of the royal family and whoever they deem worthy. 

Tubbo. 

The guard speaks up, “Sires, I-”

With nimble and swift movements, the guard was immediately cut off by Techno pressing the tip of his scabbard at the guard’s throat. Wilbur would call him ridiculous for always bringing a weapon with him anywhere, but it serves its purpose well especially when it comes to bastards like these. Techno didn’t have to look back to know Wilbur and Philza were practically cradling the injured boy, so he just resorts to scowling at the quivering low life beneath his sword. 

The room was silent, only the crackling fire and Tubbo’s pained gasps filling the tense air. Though, Philza was the first to break the silence once safely depositing Tubbo on the couch with his head laying on Wilbur’s lap. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low and quiet. Most people often mistook it as the king being calm, but Techno could feel the fury behind those words.

“We-”

“I thought it was abundantly clear to never harm my children, so I hope you have an explanation for Tubbo's state.” Philza casually scans the room. “And a reason why my youngest son still isn’t here.”

The guard gulps, a small bead of blood already rolling down their neck from Techno’s sharp blade. Techno’s tempted to just plunge the sword into this pathetic excuse of a guard up until the hilt and watch them choke on their own blood. Such a pitiable person is not needed in his army, especially one that would harm his family. His grip on the sword tightens, practically white knuckled, as he resists his bloodlust. 

Though nothing could prepare him—or any of them—when Tubbo’s croaked and strained voice finally manages to stumble through the room.

“He- he’s dead.”  

A deafening silence filled the air.

“Tommy's...dead.” 

The admission was hush, quiet. But it felt like an ear-piercing shout that shattered every precious thing in the castle, including the family’s heart. 

For once, Techno’s sword wavers, Wilbur choked on his words, and Philza felt like his world was crumbling just like the day he lost his wife. No one spoke for a moment. An indecipherable look was practically carved on their faces as their eyes glazed over, trying to process whatever emotion they felt. Wilbur was the first to snap back. 

“Get out,” he practically pleads, the blank look on his face suddenly was overtaken by pure seething rage. “GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT.” 

The guard quickly scrambles away, shutting the large doors behind him in a hurry in order to evade Wilbur’s wrath, and in extension the family’s.  

Wilbur still had that look on his face, a fury so bright and burning that it could destroy everything that was standing. Though, it quickly melted away when he heard Tubbo whimper and curl into himself. He carefully pats the boy’s head, shushing him. Still staring at Tubbo, Wilbur quietly orders, “Techno, get the potions.” 

Without a care, he drops his sword, making a loud clang of noise as he walks towards his father’s desk and pulls the bottom drawer for the first aid kit, filled with potions and bandages. They always had one in each room considering how reckless and clumsy Tom- ...Techno’s movements are mechanical, stiff. Not sure if what he heard was even real in the first place. Despite that, he brought the kit to Wilbur and dumped himself on the chair. Philza is on the other singular chair, his hands running through his hair as Wilbur carefully made Tubbo drink the health potions. 

It seems the potions were already working. Tubbo’s busted lip scabbed over and peeled itself off. The bruises all across his face were starting to fade. The pain practically easing off Tubbo’s body as his breath becomes steady. 

Though, as much as Techno would like for Tubbo to heal first, he want- needs to know what happened. So, Techno broke the silence with a strained and scratchy voice, “What happened.”

Tubbo opens his mouth, but is cut off with fits of cough as he tries pushing himself up. With Wilbur’s help, Tubbo manages to sit himself back up, his eyes glossy as if ready to spill tears. “...One of the guard got us...pushed me into the tree, and Tommy got mad so he tried to attack the guard in return but before I could save him, the guard,” Tubbo pauses shifting nervously, “st- stabbed him through the chest, right where his heart is and- and pushed him into the river. I stabbed the guard, but it was already too late...He was gone.”

Only then, by the early sunrise where the cold dark blue sky started to fade and turn into a brighter shade of morning, did the loud bell echo through the kingdom. 

Signaling off: Prince Theseus is dead. 

#so i have a lot of notes on this thing so if anyone wants to ask about this au feel free! #my dark sbi au but them going mad has an actual reason #dream smp #mcyt #dream smp fanfiction #sbi #sleepy bois inc #philza #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #tubbo #dark sbi au

[late-night-secrets]

Anchor

Relationship: Kageyama x female Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word count: ~2k (in 1 chapter)

Description: In which Kageyama helps to re-define the meaning of life once its end was seen.

masterlist

Going out with friends went better than I thought it would. It was distracting, enjoyable, a piece of normality. I had missed this without noticing. But sitting in the dark cinema and having two and a half hours of nothing but a bass-boosted action movie with too many colors, fight scenes and somewhat funny jokes yet surprisingly little plot had made me forget.

And even afterwards as we went to grab some greasy burgers and fries and called it dinner, as we talked about the movie and its ups and downs, as Hinata tripped and spilled his freshly bought milkshake all over the floor, as Yachi apologized to the staff non-stop, as Kageyama and Tsukishima had nothing better to do than to pick on Hinata, as Yamaguchi and I were actually the only ones cleaning up the mess and convinced the orange-haired boy to buy us some cookies as an apology… I felt like me again. I felt like living again. Hadn’t had that feeling for a long time.

Felt freaking great.

“We need to do this more often!” Hinata exclaimed full of excitement, the milkshake incident long forgotten. He snapped another fry which instantly vanished between his teeth.

“We hung out together literally last weekend,” Tsukishima reminded him, a low scoff audible in his seemingly apathetic voice.

Hinata’s enthusiasm was as unstoppable as usual. “I know! But not all six of us!” His features beaming, he turned towards me, and once again I realized that the sun in his name fitted perfectly. “It’s more fun with all of us! You need to come next time again!”

Before I could react, Kageyama who sat next to me snarled at his friend. “Dumbass, it’s not like she doesn’t try, you know?!”

Vigorously Hinata shook his head so his bright locks would bounce around his face. “I know, you don’t have to yell at me!” Once again, he spoke to me. “No pressure, I just meant that we missed you and Kageyama! So, I really hope you’ll join us again.”

While Yachi nodded in agreement, Yamaguchi had noticed that Hinata’s wide gestures he made to underline his words came dangerously close to his newly bought milkshake substitute and took the cup out of the boy’s reach.

To my surprise his words warmed my chest, and I felt my lips forming into a small smile. “I missed you, too,” I honestly stated, “and I’d definitely love to hang out with you again. Like…” Like in old times, I wanted to say. But that was something only old people would say, right? As if years had passed, but it had only been a few weeks. “Like before.”

For a few seconds a heavy layer of awkward silence fell upon our little group. Everyone seemed to take sudden interest in the food in front of them. Shit, I ruined the mood, I realized gnawing at my lower lip. “Guys, I’m so–…”

The words couldn’t leave my mouth since Yachi quickly said, “Really, as much as I liked the movie, the dinosaur robot was too much.”

“Yes, I agree!” Yamaguchi blurted out without hesitation.

Tsukishima shrugged his shoulders and looked away. “Well, I thought it was… fine.”

“Fine?!” Hinata repeated indignantly. “It was awesome.”

“It literally had no impact on the plot at all.”

“Who cares about the plot? We’re talking about dinosaur robots.”

“Hinata, if you don’t watch out, you’ll spill another drink and I bet then they’ll kick us out for good…”

A quiet giggle escaped my throat which luckily no one caught. It was nice seeing my friends bickering like usual, seeing things going as usual. It made me feel like I could pretend that nothing had happened.

Silently I fumbled with the plastic package of my cookie as I half-heartedly paid attention to the conversation. But a part of me was lost in thought and for the first time in weeks, that was fine.

A sudden nudge at my cheek made me flinch in surprise. It was Kageyama who had poked me while the others were busy arguing about the relevance of a dinosaur robots themed amusement park. He offered me his vanilla milkshake. “I’m about to drink up. Want another sip before I finish?”

“Yes, thanks,” I gladly accepted. As I shortly sucked on the straw, I felt his gaze lying on my face. He had done this the whole evening, watching me, looking out for me. As he had done since we had started dating, and in the past few weeks more than ever.

“You okay?” He asked after I handed back his drink. His face was hard to read, but that was nothing new.

“Yes,” I replied a little startled. “Do I not look okay?” Out of reflex I touched the corner of my eye to see if a tear had slipped out, but my finger remained dry.

“No, you…” He played with the straw between his teeth, wondering how to phrase his impression. His words were always sincere, so I easily believed him. “You look happy. Wanted to confirm.”

Another smile. Apparently, my muscles didn’t forget and wanted to warm up after such a long break. “I guess, I’m happy.”

Kageyama looked into my eyes, the corners of his lips also lifting slightly. “Good,” he exclaimed. “That’s really good.”

Our small conversation, unnoticed by the others, got interrupted by a loud cry. Hinata had managed to spill his second drink.

(read the rest on ao3)

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu kageyama #fluff #kageyama fluff #hurt/comfort #kageyama is a sweet boyfriend #haikyuu karasuno #karasuno first years #kageyama tobio #hinata shoyo #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #yachi hitoka #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

[princesssarisa]

Character ask: Beth March (Little Women)

Not tagged by anyone; I'm just having strong Beth feelings that I'd like to share.

Favorite thing about them: The way she highlights the value of people who are easy to overlook or dismiss. Not only is Beth shy, quiet, unambitious, and self-effacing compared to her sisters, she’s clearly not “normal” either. She’s not just shy, but “afraid of people”; she’s been homeschooled because her social anxiety is too strong for regular school; she still plays with dolls and has imaginary friends at age 14; she has no desire to get married or have children and wants to always live with her parents. If she had lived past her early 20s, she would never have led a “normal adult” life, and for that reason she has low self-esteem and thinks she was “never meant to live long.” Yet her life isn't "useless" the way she fears it is. Her warmth and kindness, and the simple good deeds she does for everyone she knows, make an enormous impact. Everyone adores her, the lives of her family and friends are made better by her presence, and during her illnesses they teach her how much she matters as they all rally around her and care for her. I’ll admit, I relate to Beth much more than most readers seem to: as a person with autism, I’m also quiet, socially anxious, highly sensitive, less “grown-up” than other people my age, still dependent on my parents, single, with no full-time job, and without much drive to “achieve” anything (thank you, executive dysfunction). But I hope that my kindness and friendliness to others, and the small good deeds I do like volunteering to help the homeless, still give my life some worth. The emphasis on the value of Beth's life reminds me of the value of my own.

Least favorite thing about them: Not about her personally, but the views that so many readers take of her. I think most commentary written about her is terrible, especially when people argue that her death really is necessary because she’s not suited to this world. That’s just the opposite of the beauty I see in her story! I detest the way SparkNotes interprets her as a symbol of weak, insipid 19th century femininity, who “needs” to be killed off in the name of feminism, and it annoys me to think of all the students probably being taught to view her that way because they rely on SparkNotes’ study guides. Possibly even worse is the idea that she “needs to die” because she’s pathologically unwilling to “grow up,” or that “domesticity kills her” because she contracts her illness by caring for sick children, or that she’s not really happy in her domestic life but just lacks any “talent” for anything else, or conversely, that Alcott idolizes her as the perfect role model of passive, self-effacing femininity whom all her sisters need to learn to be like, making the entire book anti-feminist. (Nonsense – if any character in this book is framed as “the ideal woman,” it’s Marmee, not Beth.) More people who empathize with her instead of just viewing her as a foil for Jo should step up and write about her for a change!

Three things I have in common with them:

*I’ve always been socially awkward and solitary.

*I love music.

*I’ve always been “young for my age.”

Three things I don’t have in common with them:

*I’m not very good at sewing.

*I’m more of a dog person than a cat person.

*I can’t play the piano.

Favorite line: From Part 1, in response to Marmee suggesting that she doesn’t have a “burden”:

“Yes, I have. Mine is dishes and dusters, and envying girls with nice pianos, and being afraid of people.”

I like that she explicitly spells out that she’s not an impossibly perfect saint (even though countless readers still view her as such). Her intense shyness isn’t just “sweet modesty” but something she struggles with, she feels longing and envy like anyone else, and she dislikes tedious housework too.

And from Part 2, about her fatal illness:

“It’s like the tide, Jo, when it turns, it goes slowly, but it can’t be stopped.”

brOTP: Her sisters, especially Jo.

OTP: None.

nOTP: Mr. Laurence, or any member of her family.

Random headcanon: She’s on the autism spectrum. It’s not the only way to view her, and yes, I’ve read argument that she only shows traits of social anxiety in the book, not autism, and that only the 2019 movie gives her more autistic traits. But as a person on the spectrum myself, and based on the book alone, I think it makes perfect sense to view her this way.

Unpopular opinion: She’s a person, not a symbol. Yes, she’s the most idealized March sister because she’s based on Alcott’s beloved dead sister Lizzie. But she’s not “a two-dimensional self-sacrificing Christ figure,” nor is she a symbol of domestic femininity, nor of Jo’s fleeting childhood, nor of anything else. She’s a human being, and she has feelings, desires, likes, dislikes, quirks, and yes, even flaws, however small. She also grows as a person just like her sisters do: in Part 1 overcoming enough of her shyness to make new friends, and in Part 2 coming to terms with her illness and impending death. So many readers insist on seeing her as a symbol instead of a fully realized character, but I honestly don’t think that was Alcott’s intent.

Song I associate with them:

"Come, Ye Disconsolate," her favorite hymn.

“Some Things Are Meant to Be” from the 2005 musical – the duet she sings with Jo during their trip the beach, where first they enjoy fantasies together, and then Beth reveals that she knows she’s dying and comforts Jo.

Favorite picture of them:

This illustration of Beth with Jo, by Jessie Wilcox Smith:

This illustration by M.V. Wheelhouse of her sickbed, watched over by Jo:

This illustration by Frank T. Merrill showing her spirit being carried up to heaven by an angel (yes, it's cheesy religious sentimentality, but still beautiful):

This modern illustration by Elaine Gignillat:

Jean Parker in the 1933 film:

Margaret O'Brien in the 1949 film:

Eve Plumb (yes, Jan from The Brady Bunch) in the 1978 miniseries:

Claire Danes in the 1994 film:

Annes Elwy in the 2017 miniseries:

Eliza Scanlen in the 2019 film:

@littlewomenchannel, @thatscarletflycatcher, @joandfriedrich, @ariel-seagull-wings, @faintingheroine, @the-blue-fairie

#character ask #ask game #little women #beth march #louisa may alcott #tw: illness #tw: death #fictional character ask #fictional characters