#but alas I was not given that talent

[purplegn0mes]

The other day I was thinking about how cool it would be if Gnomeo and Juliet got like a short spin-off series, and then I thought it would be even cooler if I made one myself and included my OCs in it. Idk just a thought lol

#if I knew how to animate I would totally do it #but alas I was not given that talent #plus I would like need people to help me with it #cuz it would also require voice acting #and god knows my British accent is terrible💀 #and I can’t voice the male characters lol #and I don’t have friends that are willing to do any of this #so sadly the dream will have to stay a dream☹️ #gnomeo and juliet

[ithebookhoarder]

Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 

A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅

Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 

Masterlist

There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.

They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.

Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.

Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.

Then Eloise had come along.

As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.

Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.

Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.

So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.

“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”

It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.

You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.

She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.

“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”

“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”

“Traitor.”

“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”

“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”

“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”

“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”

“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”

“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”

“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”

“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”

The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”

The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”

“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”

“I told you.”

“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.

If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.

“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”

“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”

“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”

“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”

“Oh … joy.”

“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”

“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”

“How about… truth or dare?”

Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“

“But Benedict-“

“What’s truth or dare?”

Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.

Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.

By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.

Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)

You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.

You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.

That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  

Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.

“Now that… was fun.”

“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.

“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”

“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”

“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”

Benedict’s jaw dropped.

“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.

“I have my sources.”

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.

“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”

With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.

And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.

How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  

“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”

You all froze.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.

“Oh, darling. You’re home?”

“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”

“I went for a swim.”

“A - you went for a -“

“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.

In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.

You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.

“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”

“What game?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.

“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”

“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”

Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.

“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.

The silence was instantaneous. 

No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 

You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 

If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 

It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 

“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 

A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 

It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 

You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 

Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 

You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 

“Is that so?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”

Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 

Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 

In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 

Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.

If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 

You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 

You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 

Hard.

“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 

“Oh?” you croaked. 

You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 

Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 

You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...

With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 

To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  

“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 

“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”

“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 

“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”

“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”

You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 

However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 

You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 

Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 

In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 

“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”

Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 

“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 

“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”

“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 

You remembered what you’d forgotten. 

The chair.

“Anthony, wait-!”

The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 

No one moved. 

No one said a word. 

Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”

#Bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #masterlist #Violet Bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #jonathan bailey #colin bridgerton

[chrollohearttags]

LICK BACK

it didn’t take long before the rumor mill began to hit the last place anyone wanted it to. Chatter and discourse circulated among everyone over at AMG. From staff and crew to the top level..concerned about what it meant, not only for the PR manager and her clientele but the company as a whole. Honestly, it all seemed more like some sick, deluded fever dream. There was no way that a photo from years ago, taken completely out of context and held zero weight was creating all of these problems! Although they were both young and there were a lot of drugs and alcohol involved the night that said picture was snapped, they both were adamant in the fact that nothing came of it. There was no way in hell that she’d even entertain the idea of sleeping with EJ. The thought alone made her skin crawl. She didn’t see it for him then and damn sure didn’t now. And vice versa. And even on the off chance there was some forgotten one night stand…what did it matter now anyways?! They had obviously both moved on and there were zero romantic, sexual or otherwise feelings there. Whoever decided to dredge these up from the archives was either bored, miserable or mad as hell over something. Could’ve been a mix of the three..who knows. But what was certain, was that this had to be fixed and quickly..before everything fell apart!

pacing the floor of her high rise condo, purchased for work years ago, the talent scout nursed her glass of wine as she trembled. Fear and anxiety had taken over her entire body…her eyes bloodshot from crying for hours on end. Her heart felt as if it were going to explode from her chest..it was all too much to bear.

“So what are you going to do? Everyone seems to believe that something happened. Even if it was years ago, it’s going to be hard to convince the world that there’s nothing going on.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Vivi but I’m not worried about convincing the world of anything. They’ll talk and believe what they want regardless. I’m only concerned with what my husband and (y/n) thinks. They’re the victims in all of this…they don’t deserve to have to deal with it.” But alas, she was wrong. Although that was her main priority, she failed to take into consideration how the rest of her clientele must’ve been feeling. She was the public relations manager..the quintessential fixer who made problems go away…if she was knee deep in her own scandal, how the hell could they trust her to get rid of theirs? It was a nightmare!

finally feeling as if the unbearable weight had caught up to her, Mikasa plopped down on a nearby couch, where her aunt and creative director Vivian Ackerman was seated. The older woman would cradle her niece’s head onto her chest akin to the way she had when she was younger. In truth, she was the only adult in her life who had actually taken the time to see her as a child in her adolescence rather than some machine; the ideal artist who moved on everyone else’s time but with her, she could be herself. And right now, the thing she needed most was a shoulder to cry on. To let her frustrations out.

“He left for his tour last night..didn’t even say goodbye. Once social media started talking, he went to a hotel and didn’t say a word. But the look on his face? I'd never seen him in pain like that. When I called him..he didn’t even answer. But then I found his ring on the nightstand. That and the necklace I gave him when he first started playing in my band. He never took that stupid thing off for anything….I guess it’s really over, huh? I screwed up..”

she could feel herself slipping further into despair. The thought of losing the one man who’d always given her the world. The man she joked, laughed and had more fun with than anyone. Who saw her flaws as perfections, accepted her in any way. The love of her life, Jean was gone and now her sweet (y/n) was pissed too. She had blocked her everywhere and was refusing to answer her or Eren’s calls. He told her that (y/n) had someone send for the rest of her belongings and that she wouldn’t be coming back. And EJ was in worse shape than she was. Not even bothering to get out of bed. How could they possibly convince you or anyone else that this was all a huge misunderstanding. But what shocked them both was that there was a single post uploaded to her Instagram page with her on a private jet. Tan leather seats surrounding her along with some roses. She sat posed as if she were straddling someone’s lap and her bare back was facing the camera with her face out of the frame. And coiled around her? Were tattooed arms with some rather familiar looking ink. The caption simply read “having my way.” Comments were shut off for the post so no one could have a field day underneath but trust, the alarm bells were going off something crazy. But one thing was for certain…when it was all said and done, those two would be the ones left crying!

“You think that was a little too much?”

“For what they did? Please..they’re lucky their asses aren’t dead right now. I’d say they got off easy.”

because right now..you were on a flight, headed to Europe. Lying in bed, draped in sheets as they caressed your naked body. But the linen wasn’t the only thing touching you. Right now, those very same arms and hands from the photo were rubbing and caressing your body. Only after using them to bounce you up and down on him. Some might say it was one hell of an overreaction to something that couldn’t be confirmed but fuck it, it shouldn’t have gotten this far. And as for who was helping you exact this little cruel act of revenge?

“Besides…I think this is much better. They can sit and think about that shit while we have some fun. Not like it’s the first time. What do you think?”

“I think you’re right..”

that too would remain a mystery!

#I’m officially not shit #aot x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #musician x influencer au #eren x black fem!reader #aot au #black reader smut #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #aot imagines #aot drabbles #modern au #aot modern au #mikasa ackerman #eren jaeger #jean kirschstein #aot #sitting here giggling as I post this #musician au #black fanfiction #love y’all though #don’t jump me #snk au #snk imagines #snk eren #snk mikasa #aot mikasa #aot jean #aot angst

[heartfullofleeches]

Your alien captor enters your chambers carrying a collar in hand. The glow of its visor seems brighter than usual; likely due to the item in hand and the breakthrough its achieved. It stares at you, lifting its head to put the collar on. You can see a chip in the metal armor around its neck, a healing scar beneath the dent.

.-.. . - .----. ... / ... . . / .... --- .-- / - .... .. ... / -.. --- . ...

It presses a button on the side of the collar; the words that spill from the device familiar, but complete gibberish. A long string of numbers.

"Huh?"

01010011 01101000 01101001 01110100 00101110 00100000 01001000 01101111 01101100 01100100 00100000 01101111 01101110 00100000 01101111 01101110 01100101 00100000 01101101 01101111 01101101 01100101 01101110 01110100

They turn a small dial; the voice box crackling as they sound out syllables. Finally discovering the right channel, a deep, soothing voice comes from the collar.

"Testing. One, Two. Hmm. This seems right. You can understand me, correct?"

You nod.

"Wonderful. Words cannot describe how happy I am to finally be able to speak directly to you. You see, my kind is naturally gifted with the talent of conversing with over species, but alas my vocal cords were damaged some time in my past. I've tried to heal them myself, but I lack the medical experience. Enough of that. I believe I currently owe you a proper introduction."

The Alien kneels.

"My given code is Mono, but you may call me as you like. I am the current heir to the throne of my people, but more importantly, your future spouse. I have observed your people for quite some time, and found you to be my perfect match. I humbly offer you full access to my ship, and my unwavering loyalty. I look forward to our conversations, my dear Starlight"

#Mono my oc #yandere oc #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere x reader #alien oc #Yandere alien #yandere teratophilia #tw yandere #yandere monster #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

[boopshoops]

TWST OC INTRODUCTION - TCOAV

Ezra Goldspire - Who Knows Best

Name: Ezra Goldspire

Nicknames: Ezzie, Killifish

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Homosexual

Birthday: May 7 (Taurus)

Age: 362 (In canon and AU)

Height: 5'11 or 179cm

Voice Claim(s): Caleb Hyles

Twisted from: Mother Gothel/Esther Gothel of Tangled

Unique Magic: "What Once was Mine" Through the use of magical herbs and alchemy, Ezra is able to capture the likeness of himself and other individuals. He can share and change other's physical features with these concoctions, ranging anywhere from shoe size to facial structure to vocal coords. These changes last as long as he desires as well as under his own set conditions at the cost of requiring outside materials to complete. Typically the magic is contained in what appears to be a type of spice or powder, and the change leaves a mark/tattoo on the individual which the magic is cast to indicate what exactly was changed.

Grade: Primarily teaches Sophomores and Juniors

Class: Teaches art and music, along with being the homeroom teacher of class 3-D.

Hobbies: Alchemy, botany, herbology, singing, painting, playing the harp, improv.

Likes: Broadway, theater, pasta alla gricia, small spaces, spring, jewelry, floral arrangements, experimental learning, any music.

Dislikes: Crickets, wrinkles, scars, wasted talent, mumbling/whispering, tracking time.

Fears: Aging, other Changeling Fae, not being recognized by those he cares for, forgetting people.

Summary: As the most easygoing teacher on the entirety of campus, many of the students and fellow staff members view him as a scatter-brained daydreamer. However, his dreams filled with immense passion, as he desires for nothing more than to watch his student's talent blossom... and keep the bloom contained and protected in a glass case.

Now, don't get him wrong! He has the best intentions, of course. There are many, many scary people and places out there in this Twisted Wonderland. People who would take advantage of such bright minds. He is simply preventing that from happening. The man has been around for a long time and has been through his own share of ordeals, so he would most definitely know.

He has a big heart. While he goes about an odd, constrictive way of showing it, he does truly care. He has a hard time letting things go, and he simply wants the best for those he cares for. Ezra would spoil every single one of his students rotten if he were able. Even as a rather new professor at NRC, he wishes to guide every single one of them on the right path.

Outfit Inspiration

Author's Notes: ARGHHH MY BOY... Ezra is a very new character I made only a few months ago. He was created specifically for TCOAV, but alas I have grown attached. Given we already have quite a few gaslight gatekeep girlboss type characters over here, I decided to focus more on twisting different aspects of Mother Gothel. I particularly focused on her parental tendencies as well as her means of "caring" for Rapunzel. Whereas whether Gothel truly cares for Rapunzel or not is still up in the air, and they truly had a toxic relationship nonetheless, I wanted to make Ezra a more misguided but good individual.

#boopshoopsoc #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #disney twst #oc #twst wonderland #original character #oc art #ezra goldspire #digital drawing #digital doodle #digital art #oc profile #character art #original character art #boopshoopsart #boopshoopswriting

[venusandsaturnsrings]

can i contribute? foxboy childe and wolfboy diluc with a catgirl reader. wolfboy diluc being a bit jealous that childe's fox dna is a tad bit better when it comes to breeding you... but he'll force it.

YEAHHHHHH THIS IS THE GOOD SHIT!! ur dna naturally works better with one another but diluc is a determined man and must prove he's better than that stupid fox harbinger >:( hehe this is just over 3k words and also my 100th post!! eat up!!

contains: foxboy childe, wolfboy diluc, female reader, chubby reader, slight spoilers for diluc and childe's backgrounds

to mate was one of the most sacred actions amongst hybrids. it was a symbolism of true trust and love. there was nothing more special than bearing the kittens of another to you and it was often something you fantasized about when lounging in the sunshine. you'd let golden rays warm your skin and ears while your brain was lost in the thoughts of finally being loved and fully filled. one day you'd have the perfect mate, you were sure of it. but for now you simply appreciated the small pleasures of sunshine, fish, and your close friends.

it was always easiest to make friends with those genetically closer to you so, it was no surprise that as a kitten yourself, you befriended the fox down the street. the climate of Snezhnaya was beyond freezing but somehow that bright ginger boy was always able to make you feel warm and safe. perhaps it was his glowing personality or the way his ears always twitched in the same fashion as yours. regardless, he was always your very best friend. he was mild as a boy only to grow into a man more bold and fearless. you always justified it as part of his DNA when people asked as they didn't need to know the reality of his situation. despite the poor hand he was given, he always shone more brilliantly than any sunray that could ever hit your skin. Ajax was always the star you'd follow home and the beams of light you'd bask in. he was and is the most special person to you.

and so, making the move to Mondstadt was the most difficult moment of your life. you knew with his rank amongst the Fatui you'd never be truly leaving him behind yet it stung all the same. you were leaving the place with his life and younger years written all over it. where his energy and desires had sunk into the earth only to reverberate through your bones on the days you missed him most. here you wouldn't have the same comfort. you could take every gift he ever gave you and every item of clothing he sacrificed into your possession but nothing came close to being where his everything once was. you mourned for those feelings. alas, making this move was necessary for you. Snezhnaya was never a land where creatives such as yourself could thrive. the constant and sometimes mindless monotony of the people striving to create the best of the best technology in between freezing off limbs and fishing could no longer serve your mental any good. with everyday passing there you only found your mindset getting worse and no matter how hard you scraped up the bits of Ajax nothing, not even him, could fix you. Mondstadt was the place you needed to be. it was a land of bards, poets, and storytellers. it was the land of freedom. you needed to be somewhere that valued your talents and inclinations towards the arts. through letters and visit he made to help you pack Ajax assured you this was the right choice. he assured you he'd come visit and that he'd have some men looking out for you. even past distance and through slivers of breath he would keep you safe.

as things turn out, he was right, Mondstadt was the place you needed to be. with flat and warm planes of rock to bathe in the sun, ponds and lakes full of fish, other creatives, people that were always kind, and a rather large community already established of cat hybrids you finally felt like you belonged somewhere that didn't require you to be coddled in the arms of Ajax. home was no longer just a person but a place as well. metaphorically, you had two houses. one in Mondstadt and one with Ajax. sure, one was certainly closer to your heart than the other but to feel belonging was knew and welcome. making friends was easier here too. the Kätzlein family had practically adopted you the moment you arrived and Diona was pretty much your little sister. occasionally you had to wrangle her out of clawing patrons to death but otherwise she followed you like a small shadow. a cute small shadow. you ended up with a rather large circle of both acquaintances and close friends all of which Diona offered up unfiltered opinions about from her interactions with them. she didn't have a positive impression of most of the adults, with good reason, but you always took her word to heart. drunk words are sober thoughts, no?

regardless, it was only natural that you'd be introduced to the Cat's Tails' competitor and wine tycoon Diluc. you had initially thought he was socially distant and perhaps slightly judgmental but it didn't take long for you to deduce that wasn't the truth. through other residents and friends you learned Diluc was simply reserved and no longer as good with people as he used to be. it was almost strange to find out he functioned the direct opposite of Ajax but his mild nature was almost refreshing compared to all the other strong personalities of Mondstadt. much to Dionas chagrin he quickly earned the spot of your second best friend in the city. he's easy to be around and always treated you with a gentle nature you didn't often see. the wolf ears atop his head and blood flowing through his body had initially intimidated you but he was never the aggressive beast you associated wolves with. he would always scratch your ears if you did his, buy the nicest fish he could find to serve you, and create drinks in your likeness. all of the drinks were sweet and served with some floral on top; it was cute to say the least. you spent plenty of time around his manor particularly in his office while he worked. the window behind his desk was always ajar and had the curtains pulled back which made it a perfect place to lie around. Diluc even went through the effort of pulling some blankets and cushions together for a little nest you could curl up in and enjoy the warmth in. the silence was always comfortable and only accented by his pen scratching on paper or birds chirping. occasionally conversation would form usually when he'd ask if you needed a drink or food but for the most part you'd let him work without distraction. you loved the little nest and perhaps you got a bit too attached to it as when your first heat in Mondstadt hit that's exactly where you were.

you felt warmer than usual and couldn't stay still. it felt like your bones were vibrating in your body and your thoughts could only shuffle between Ajax and Diluc. you knew Diluc had mentioned some sort of meeting this afternoon he wanted you to be present for but it was hard to focus on the future when you were just so hot all over. initially you thought perhaps you were just not used to the summers in Mondstadt as Snezhnaya was so cold all year round. as your thoughts continued to cycle heat continued to pool in your lower stomach and between your legs. it was only when Diluc grunted and spun around to face you that you realized you were indeed going into heat. the low noise from him spurred a whine from your throat as you looked up to meet his indecipherable gaze. perhaps he felt conflicted over the situation, it was a tough one to be in for a hybrid that's so domineering by nature. weakly, you rose to your feet to excuse yourself from the room and manor but you're actions were interrupted by a familiar and desirable smell. a quick knock hit the door before it swung open. you would've recognized those ears and eyes anywhere in Teyvet; Ajax. so this was why Diluc had insisted you stick around for this meeting. he was thinly aware of your connection to the harbinger but you doubt he knew the true depth of your relationship. crossing the room to behind the desk Ajax wrapped you in his arms and close to his comforting body. a long and needy sigh left your lips as he squeezed you closely, hands rubbing your arms and back in soothing motions. he must've picked up your presence and heat faster than even Diluc based on the rushed movements. rarely did Ajax allow himself to purr but his head rested upon yours with calming vibrations coming from his throat. Diluc cleared his throat. your face stayed planted into the chest against you but you could feel the rotation of Ajax's head atop yours. the sound he made was irritated, followed by a snippy 'what?' and glare. the tension in the room had you feeling hotter by the second. unconsciously you had began grinding against the thigh conveniently placed between your legs. the friction felt overwhelmingly good. you'd never felt touch like this before and never from another person and it was good. one large hand grabbed your plush hip and pushed you harder against his thigh leaving you keening and needy for more. surely you wouldn't be tortured this way for much longer?

another hand grabbed you by the waist and pried you from the grip of Ajax. the whole world seemed to spin momentarily before you were placed on Dilucs lap, face now in his neck. one of his hand steadied you by your waist as the other slipped between your thighs to give you more of what you really needed. briefly you noticed his gloves were no longer on his hands. two of his fingers gathered globs of slick dripping out from your cunt while the other moved under your dress to push all of the fabric up above your chest. Ajax moved behind you to fondle your plump breasts and grind his length between your shoulder blades. the room felt stuffy as it filled with the musk of both the fox and wolf you were sandwiched between. embarrassingly, the combination of so much stimulation had you crying and your cunt drooled impossibly more onto the fingers playing with it as you came undone for the first time that afternoon. growls and grunts echoed around you while four hands greedily began shedding clothing from all bodies. even when bare and on full display you still felt your flesh burning. a flush was present across your face, ears, and shoulders and cooler hands rubbed over the areas softly cooing sweet nothings about your beauty. you did indeed look beyond that of a goddess with eyes lidded and limbs trembling. spit leaked from the corner of your mouth only for Ajax to lean over and lick it up before connecting your lips properly. you found yourself being pulled further into Diluc's frame as he propped you up gently to his chest with hips angled to take his sizable cock. the tip was red and leaking with the knot already partially swollen at the base. you could tell he was thick based on the way it slid and grinded between your folds so deliciously. Ajax massaged your ass cheeks from behind you. he pushed your hips back just a bit further to spread you open and spit straight onto your pussy. the moisture wasn't needed at all but the action alone was beyond erotic and had you mumbling for more through slurs and whines. both men softly assured you you'd get what you needed. from below you, Diluc began pushing his hips up and cock into you. if it weren't for your heat you'd certainly be crying from the stretch but it only added to your stimulation as you whimpered and shivered from the delicious pain. Ajax had placed his cock between your ass cheeks while slowly pumping it between them with small grunts as he ran a hand through your hair softly. the other was planted firmly on your left thigh to stabilize your form. if you didn't have three hands holding you up, you surely would have crumbled by now. once the squishy knot touched your hole the relief you felt was immense and had tears dripping from your eyes. finally, you'd get fucked and filled. Diluc set a steady pace as praise flew out of his mouth about just how good you felt and how happy he was to fuck your sweet cunt finally. small confessions of nights spent jerking himself to the thought of your squishy thighs littered his speech and only served to arouse you further. lost in the pleasurable feeling of his cock you cried when you felt his movement hault.

"please," you whimpered pathetically, "please don' stop. need more, s'not enough...." one set of hands smoothed over your flesh softly as the other spread your pussy lips further before wiggling a finger in alongside the cock already stuffing you full. an affirmative hum came from both of them before you felt another tip rub your cunt right on top of the one already inside. panic didn't even pass through your skull as a second thick and long dick stretched you open; painfully so. you sobbed pitifully at the feeling but you were so so very full. could you really complain? and you were taking them both so sweetly! as the two began to thrust at opposite intervals you were never left empty. one fat cock was always brushing the spots you needed most while your gooey cunt coated them both so pretty. Diluc's office chair would surely be left a mess once you were done by all of the slick fluids dripping onto it. both knots were fully swollen at this point and begging to be pushed into you properly. Ajax reached one hand down and around your tummy to rub quick circles at your clit. only a couple flicks of his wrist had you squirting and shaking over both of the men. with eyes rolled back in your head and vision blurred you sobbed and whimpered at the stimulation before biting down on Diluc's shoulder to muffle yourself the slightest bit. you'd never felt so good in your life so it was hard not to cry out so loudly. you had two huge cocks fucking into your guts so who could really blame you? the pounding continued from stuttering hips and through low grunts and growls. with such pleasure still rolling in waves you didn't even notice when Diluc raised a foot to kick Ajax away before sinking his knot deep into your cunt. his seed began to flow and fill your womb so full. you could hear upset and disgruntled noises but were too focused on finally being pumped up and pretty by a big knot still so deep inside you. one of Diluc's hands came up to cradle your head and plant a kiss to your forehead and lips with the softest smile you'd ever seen across his features.

"you'll be full of my pups soon enough, my love," he murmured sweetly. your tummy did flips at the knowledge that you'd finally been bred as your tail was lightly swishing behind you at the thought of being plump with such perfect pups from a perfect father. the loving moment was, of course, interrupted.

"not if i've got anything to do with it! that was a cruel move, mutt. bear in mind you may have filled her but she's certainly not designated as your mate yet. she's mine so back off, yeah?" if he could do it without hurting you, Ajax surely would've ripped the knot out of you and scraped your insides of the seed currently painting them white and full.

"we'll see what happens, harbinger." from behind you, Ajax snarled. he pulled on his disheveled clothing before throwing his jacket over your naked form and leaning to sit back on Diluc's desk.

"we've got a meeting to conduct still. i'll be taking her home once that pathetic knot of yours has gone down," you could practically feel the anger seeping from his form. "her home is with me, not you. you're like a replacement given to a kid when their favourite toy breaks except i'm not broken. i will be taking her back and you can cope with that you dog." Diluc scoffed with amusement in response but Ajax was serious.

perhaps your pounding wasn't going to stop here. <3

#foxboy childe #wolfboy diluc #childe x reader #diluc x reader #female reader #chubby reader #childe x reader x diluc #catgirl reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader

[kaigarax]

Yours Absolutely

Denji (Chainsawman) x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love by connecting with the heart of another."

        Let’s set the scene, it’s fall play season         Actors flood the hall         Through audition drama, vocal running         Our two names are called

“(L/n), (Y/n).” The young girl at the front of the room calls out into the crowded room. She has a clipboard clutched tight to her chest as she searches the room for the owner of the aforementioned name.

People are sitting shoulder to shoulder pouring over scripts, quietly reciting lines to themselves just barely louder than a whisper, and nervously shaking as they await for their name to be called next.

Denji finds himself to be in the latter of people, subconsciously bouncing his leg back and forth as he stares up at the ticking clock.

How boring.

Denji, no last name given, had lived most of his life by the whims of others. Being tossed around haphazardly as if he were an object instead of a person. It was, by all accounts, a pathetic life. And sure, Denji knew that his life wasn’t a good one but he didn’t exactly have any means of escape. One could even say that he didn’t even have any reference frame for what a ‘good life’ accounted for.

He was, for lack of simple terms, brash and naive. Uneducated.

So imagine his surprise when he was approached by an Idol Agency and offered a full ride scholarship just because he could carry a tune better than most. Oh, and in his own humble opinion, was a brilliant dancer.

The only issue was that his personality needed a little bit of work.

Oh well.

That’s why people learned how to act, right?

And he’d eventually meet someone that liked him for his personality, right?

Right?

The young girl from earlier with the clipboard slowly makes her way back to the front of the room, looking down at the clipboard for a second, looking up then looking back down again before calling out, “Denji.”

        Upon meeting you, I knew         I’d win the part but lose my cool         So they cast us as the lovebirds         And my heart, alas, the fool

Denji follows the young girl with the clipboard into the audition room hunched over and with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Denji was a reasonably accomplished singer. His small group, consisting of Aki, Power and himself, had gained a steady following on social media. They’d even had a song or two make it to the top of the poll charts. With their upcoming success, Makima, their manager, had decided it was time to start making waves in other parts of the Idol industry. For Denji that specifically meant plays. They had considered modeling, but Denji didn’t exactly have the face for that. Besides, singing was basically acting, right?

It’s not as if Makima would be upset if he didn’t get a major role anyway.

He’d already been bypassed at three other auditions and cast as a Townsperson B for a fourth. What would another side role be?

The young girl gives him a once over and sighs before announcing his name to the small group sitting together at the front of the stage.

Denji’s eyes land on you, (L/n) (Y/n), first.

It’s hard not to notice you.

You’re enchanting. Brilliant. Practically gravitational as you give him a warm smile and hold your hand out at him.

He’s pretty sure you’re introducing yourself to him but he can barely make out your words as you shake his hand with that warm smile, your bright eyes looking up at him.

He’s heard of you before. Makima’s said one thing or another about you. Something about a generational talent? He isn’t too sure. Wasn’t paying much attention at the time to her words, instead preferring to admire her visage. Not that the information about you would have mattered much in the first place. Afterall, Denji, before even having met you, had decided he would do everything in his power to make you dislike him.

If you disliked him then you were less likely to join their Agency and less likely to steal away Makima’s attention.

You brush back a loose strand of hair as you begin to recite the lines the director asked you to.

And damn.

You’re hot.

There go Denji’s plans.

        It’s a no-chance showmance         I don’t mix work with pleasure         You sway my stance         It’s unprofessional         I know that we can’t         But I’m drawn to your trance

“You’re here early, Denji.” You say, your voice soft as you hang your coat up and take a seat beside him.

Denji grins, “I got lost.”

You raise a delicate brow, “so you found yourself here accidentally?”

“Bang!” Denji shaped his hands into playful finger guns and raised them as if he just released a bullet or two, “right on the money!”

You laughed softly, “very you.”

He feels his cheeks warm at your laughter and has to force himself to look away lest you see the bright red blush upon his cheeks.

Who’d have thought that Denji would finally get cast as the male lead in the school play? Makima apparently was the only one not surprised when he brought them the news. They said he was chosen because of his chemistry with you. The play director, like most people, was enamoured with your performance and cast the rest of the play around you. Choosing people that would do their best to help you shine; and it seems that Denji seemed to fit that spot best if his role in the play meant anything.

When Denji finally works up the courage to look at you again he sees that you’ve fished a notebook from your bag and began scribbling notes.

He feigns a yawn, reaching his arm up before he subtly attempts to wrap it around you.

“Denji?”

He snaps his arm back, “yes? What? I was totally listening.” Startled slightly as you looked up at him.

You give him a curious look before smiling gently, “I was wondering if you wanted to run lines before the rest of the cast gets here?”

“Yes.” Denji nods dramatically, “definitely.”

He hates running lines.

        “Places in five”         Tickets to my demise         I’m passionately panicking         Falling or I’m fangirling         Why, why must we read these lines?         Admiring you is amateur         Call me out of character

Denji’s arms are wrapped around your legs gently as you rest your head on his back. Your arms, which are loosely hanging around his neck, are warm. Almost a little clammy. Your breath is warm against the back of his neck and his heart is beating, erracting, threatening to beat out of his chest.

Your hold around him softens as you laugh, “Denji.”

Your voice is soft as you say his name. So warm and gentle. Denji’s certain he’s never heard someone say his name in such a way before and it sends his heart racing. It feels so different from how everyone else says it. Sounds better than when anyone else says it.

“(Y/n).” He says in response, slowly and calmly in hopes of masking the erratic beating of his ever treacherous heart.

“That’s not my name.” You say.

“It isn’t? But it’s what everyone calls you.”

“It’s my name, but it’s not my real name. It’s what my mother wanted to call me but my father said otherwise.”

Denji laughs softly, “and what would you like me to call you?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I want to be your tomorrow.” You hum, nuzzling into the back of his neck, “I want to be all your tomorrows.”

…

…

…

“Um, Denji,” your voice is warm but doesn't hold the same sugary sweetness from just seconds before.

Denji raises his head, as he carries you away from the view of the audience “hm?”

“You missed your line.”

“Oh shoot!”

        We’re backstage for a quick change         And I catch you sneak a glimpse         There’s no cameras, no cast around         Our faces dimly lit

The lights are much dimmer backstage as Denji scrambles to throw the rest of his suit on. Whoever thought putting the dance scene right after the school scene deserves to be thrown in jail. Nothing less of the harshest of punishments, Denji thinks as he buttons his blazer up.

No, he takes that back.

The real person that should get in trouble is the one that decided a blazer like this would be the one that they choose to use.

All the little buttons do nothing but frustrate him further.

Whatever.

He’s not going to button it up at all. It’ll look better like this anyways. Fits the ‘cool’ vibe he’s given his character.

Who cares if the director gives him shit later.

Denji looks up, letting out a deep sigh.

In that second his eyes meet with yours.

You look away quickly.

Damn.

You really are so cute.

        I won’t make a move, I’ll claim I’m clueless         When our friends make jokes         But I swear you playing with my hair’s not         What the author wrote

“Say, (Y/n),” one of your friend’s teases, “is there anything going on between you and,” she points to Denji who’s standing a little off the the side talking with his own friends. Well, he’s not exactly talking to his friends, he’s eavesdropping on your conversation, but they’re talking to each other in front of him.

You’ve got three friends, or at least three friends that came to watch the show tonight.

A black haired boy who Denji might’ve mistaken for Aki if not for the way his hair sticks up haphazardly in every direction; a brown haired girl who clings to your arm as she teases you about one thing or another; and a pink haired boy.

Denji guesses they seem alright.

Thinks he could’ve even been friends with them if not for the way the pink haired boy keeps looking over at you.

“Denji?” You say his name ever so softly. Denji thinks that if he could he would just melt into a puddle on the floor in hopes that you might one day step on him.

“Yeah!”

“We’re friends,” you hum, a teasing lit to your voice.

“Did someone say my name?” Denji asks, popping up behind you and propping his head atop of yours.

You smile, “speak of the devil.”

He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

If only you knew.

        It’s a no-chance showmance         But as our bodies breathe         Together in the final dance         Audience evanesces         Reason be damned, you’re not far from my man

The dress you’re wearing swirls around you in bright colours, catching the eye of everyone on stage.

Denji thinks that even if you were dressed in rags, everyone's eyes would only be on you. He’d make certain of it.

Of everything, what likely pushed Denji into the starring role he earned in the play was his ability to dance. Likely the most important part of his character. He spends at least half the play dancing from curtain to curtain. Sometimes spending entire scenes dancing to the whims of your character’s woes. But he likes it that way.

What he prefers.

Knows he catches your attention every time he starts to dance.

Throughout the entire scene, every scene, your eyes will, without a doubt, find their way to him. And he’ll flash you his biggest and brightest smile.

This is the only dance where it’s just the two of you so Denji takes extra care to make sure that you stand out the most. Knows exactly when to do a half step in one direction instead of taking a full one. Knows to maneuver you slightly more to the left during this turn so you can miss that creaky spot on stage despite knowing that the director won’t be too happy. But the director won’t complain, not when everyone’s eyes are drawn to you - practically unable to look away.

        “Back on in five”         Tickets to our demise         I’m passionately panicking         Falling or I’m fangirling         Why, why do I mean these lines?         Admiring you is amateur         Call me out of character

‘RING’ ‘RING’

‘RING’ ‘RING’

Denji struggles to answer his phone, frantically searching through his different pockets. The ringing is loud and echoes throughout the room.

He glances briefly at the caller ID though doesn't actually see anything as he answers the phone.

“Hello?” Denji answered.

“Denji?”

His heart skipped a beat, “(Y/n)?”

“Where are you?” You asked, your voice loud, clear and out of breath.

“I was out for a run but I’m at the big tree by the cliff. Why? Where are you? You sound out of breath.”

“Really!” You took a deep breath, “that’s good!”

“Is everything okay?”

“Well, do you remember the other day? When we were talking about things we would regret if we never did?” You asked, your voice coming in and out in heavy breaths.

“Yeah?”

“Well I realised what it is that I’d regret.”

“And what’s that?”

“You.” Your voice echoes throughout the room as the music playing in the background suddenly stops. He turns away from the audience and towards you who’s standing beside him, your hands on your knees and your body moving heavily up and down as you attempt to catch your breath.

        Am I the Eponine         Or Laura Jean         I need a script for you and me         I want the lead         The harmony to your story         Re-write the plot         Give me the spotlight         A monologue before the curtains fall

Denji’s almost forgotten that he’s standing here on the stage as he stares at you. Your eyes shining as brilliantly as they did when the two of you first met.

You’re so pretty.

Truly a dream.

Denji misses his cue to start again, the musicians improvising quickly and replaying the bar they’d just played in order to accommodate. Another thing he’s going to get in trouble for - but none of that really matters to him. Not when you’re standing here in front of him with such a look in your eyes.

“(Y/n) what’re you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on a train right now?”

“I” you huffed, “I’d regret never telling you before I go for the rest of my life.”

Denji swallows, “telling me what?”

Then you look up at him and smile. It’s not the kind of smile you’ve given him every time before. This one’s softer. Warmer. Fonder. Dosen’t seem to have the same plastic filter as all the ones before.

And he’s over.

Ruined for life.

Will never be the same.

“I love you.”

        I was never acting at all         I was never acting at all         I can’t pretend to pretend         You’re all that I want         ‘Cause I was never acting at all

It’s the final scene.

The final act.

The final showing of the play.

The final time he’ll ever get to be here upon a stage with you. Well it might not be the last time but it’s unlikely that it’ll be the same. No guarantee that he’ll manage to steal the starting role alongside you again.

He’s supposed to smile and give you a hug.

Supposed to tell you he loves you back.

He doesn't.

Instead he moves towards you, which surprises you but you manage to hide your surprise keeping it only evident in your eyes as you raise a delicate brow. He tosses the makeshift prop phone in his hand aside and towards the audience.

He thinks it might’ve hit someone in the head.

Wraps his arms around you and pulls you in.

“Denji?” You ask, saying his name in that warm voice. The only voice he likes hearing his name from nowadays.

He doesn't need words for this as he pulls you in and brings your lips to his.

Fall in love by connecting with the heart of another.

---

Song: Never Acting At All Artist: Melina KB

#chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader #denji x reader #100 ways to fall in love

[insurrection-if]

Hiatus Ended

I am very sorry, truly. I cannot stress my apologies enough.

I'm back.

I am, honestly, somewhat scared to be returning after so much silence. Every day without a peep from me on this blog just seemed to compress this sense of guilt and unworthiness I felt towards the idea of returning at all.

My hiatus was not announced. It had not been planned. It was unfair of me to let it drag on so long without any notification that it was occurring. Everyone who has ever shown interest or kindness towards this story deserves far, far better than what I have provided.

I was not confident about this story, or my conveyance of these characters. I despised my writing. I toyed with some other projects behind the scenes. I experimented with Twine - and I have declared Twine to be my latest technological enemy (as I am horrible with it). It is very suitable to other stories I have in mind, but my effort with those stories and my taming of Twine are heavily scaled back for now.

My efforts at present have also largely been focused on my financial situation and future. Thankfully, my current circumstances have eased much of the financial stress I faced earlier this year. Though my current employment does not provide a very liberating schedule to work creatively, I do feel much more secure in my continued ability to write as a means of recreational enjoyment and fulfillment.

In my absence, it has come to my attention that this community has not given up on Insurrection.

This is an unbelievable wonder worthy of a good cry.

I cannot emphasize enough how meaningful this is to me. I do not deserve all the support shown to this story thus far. The IF community is overflowing with passion, creativity, and talent that I could never hope to match. And so, to have this much gracious interest extended to this story, I am helplessly and forever thankful.

Your time, your interest, and your presence hold a value far greater than a number on a screen could ever tell.

But, goodness, that number is quite something to behold!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, each and every one of you! I would like to celebrate such a momentous milestone in following but, alas, I am not the most creative of 'party planners' . . . nor am I even a decent one at that! (；´∀｀)

If anyone has any ideas, suggestions, or wishes for something to mark this occasion, please let me know! Otherwise, I simply wish to extend my gratitude as sincerely and deeply as possible to everyone who has taken the time to read this, or just about anything on this blog. It is a privilege for me to be able to share my ideas and writing with so many in a way I never could, or can, in my life beyond the screen.

Thank you! For your patience, your grace, and your belief in this story! Thank you everyone!

#personal

[c-schroed]

Podcasts I Adore - Re: Dracula or This Year, Our Friend Jonathan Has a Podcast!

"I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was very good but thirsty. (Memorandum: Get recipe for Mina.)"

I wanted to join "Dracula Daily" ever since I heard of it. To me, this is a stroke of genius; it's just the perfect approach to this book. I mean, not only is Bram Stoker's horror classic an epistolary novel with precise dates given for every journal entry or letter written by one of its protagonists, it also spans quite an ideal amount of time, i.e. roughly half a year. Long enogh to give it a feeling of something interesting and important slowly unraveling, short enough to not feel like too much of a commitment.

So yeah, I really wanted to join "Dracula Daily". Especially because I wanted to read the novel in English for years already (so far I've only read its German translation, because that's my native language). But, alas, I do not find the time so easily to add a book to my to do list, so I ended up not joining this lovely book club last year, fearing I'd miss out on most of the entries sooner or later.

Enter "Regarding Dracula". Right after seeing it for the very first time I knew this will be perfect for me. I already have a habit of listening to audio drama on my daily commute, and preferably in the form of fictional podcasts. So quite literally, @re-dracula had me at hello.

And gosh, they did not disappoint. Although I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed to find out that the format is more that of a classical audio drama, with voice actors speaking every line of their respective character. Originally, I was hoping for a more podcast-like approach, meaning that each actor speaks all of the text of a journal entry or letter, period. As if Jonathan would make a podcast instead of notes in his journal. I simply like it when audio fiction uses the possibilities of podcasts, and "Dracula" felt like something that could profit from this way of storytelling, too. So yes, I admit it: I was a bit disappointed. But not for long.

After hearing just a few sentences of Karim Kronfli as Dracula, I immediately understood the decision to breathe life into each character this way. I mean, I love Ben Galpin's work as Jonathan, but Dracula really, really profits from Kronfli's nonchalant but still breathtakingly powerful and confident take on this charakter.

And Mr. Kromfli is not the only one who makes a redefiningly marvellous job here. So far, all the voice actors go far out of their way to make me fall in love with each and every one of them: Ben Galpin's Jonathan is heartbreakingly relatable, Isabel Adomakoh Young's Mina is capable and charming beyond measure, and Beth Eyre's Lucy is just gorgeous. Yes. I'm in love.

In addition to all that talent of its cast, "Re: Dracula" also has a neat and absolutely on point score and sound design. And, just like the basic idea of "Dracula Daily", it really gives you a feeling of how time passes between the journal entries and letters. Haven't heard anything of Jonathen for a while? One does start to worry a bit. Lucy answering to Mina just two days after the Mina's letter? Wow, that was quick, I guess (not sure how quickly the postal service worked back then, though). Even if one has read "Dracula" again and again, I am sure this form of presentation can grant new insights!

So, if you, like me, are a more eager listener than reader, or if you happen to like close-to-perfection audio drama, then please give this a shot! I bet you, like me, will soon be finding yourself eagerly, yearningly awaiting the next bit of news from your good friend Jonathan, who hopefully soon returns from that terrible business trip of his. 9 out of 10 points.

#re: dracula #dracula daily #dracula daily deluxe #audio fiction #podcast #podcast review #audiobook #horror #classic #dracula #bram stoker #karim kronfli #isabel adomakoh young #beth eyre #i'm hooked #i'm so very darn hooked #schroed's thoughts

[falkarph]

DRAGON'S DOGMA 2 STARTERS

rp prompts taken from the video game dragon's dogma 2 by capcom. some have been edited.

❛ a good sleep will ensure we’re prepared for the morrow. ❜

❛ i shall go to the grave with a smile on my lips, for i have no regrets. ❜

❛ this is the second time i’ve watched over you like this, isn’t it? ❜

❛ as i understand it, 'tis boorish to speak when you’ve naught to say, so i shall hold my tongue. ❜

❛ we‘ll see each other again, you can count on that. and when we do, you’d best be ready for the fight of your life. ❜

❛ i had nearly given up on myself, yet 'twould seem i am not without talent after all! ❜

❛ i learned the words but this is the first i use them. ❜

❛ don't bring trouble to my door, you hear? ❜

❛ 'twas never my intent to deceive you. i simply feared that if i spoke the truth, none would wish to involve themselves with me. ❜

❛ i dare not enter the palace. but i would fain escort you to the castle entrance. ❜

❛ pray visit me if you’ve the time or inclination. ❜

❛ all is preordained. even my death at thy hands. ❜

❛ there’s no shortage of ne'er-do-wells out there, willing to claim their medicine the only cure that they might inflate its price. ❜

❛ what are you doing? unhand me this instant! ❜

❛ love is as twin to madness, they say. they are bound fast, as night is to day. ❜

❛ oh, unwring your hands, you fool. as if anyone in this palace would dare say a word against me. ❜

❛ i find myself on edge when you stray from my line of sight. ❜

❛ save your honeyed words, traitor! ❜

❛ you would leave one of your own to die? ❜

❛ my efforts led only to my own ruin. ❜

❛ i believe i cautioned you to keep your drunken revelry in check. ❜

❛ they say you should be thankful for your life, but simply being alive isn’t the same as living, eh? ❜

❛ 'tisn‘t the first time i’ve taught an unseasoned whelp the meaning of betrayal. ❜

❛ my vision’s growing worse by the day i fear. ❜

❛ if i had but better known your heart, i could have shared in your burdens. ❜

❛ 'tis not my conscience that called me here, oh no. i simply cannot stomach acts of cowardice. ❜

❛ doesn’t seem like you and i are going to share a drink anytime soon. a shame, really. ❜

❛ and what business have you here, in the nobles' playground? ❜

❛ we’re lost, plain and simple. ❜

❛ 'twould seem my time here has reached its end. can’t say i‘m happy about it. ❜

❛ i possess no ill intent, i assure you! i merely wished for a closer look. ❜

❛ alas, though he was a just and goodly ruler, there is not a single person alive who remembers his name. ❜

❛ it can be a blessing to forget—and to be forgotten. ❜

❛ the flesh may rot, the soul, fragment. yet power—power endures. ❜

❛ no one has any care for me beyond my title. ❜

❛ another dogged adventurer, come to take my life? many have tried, and, as you can plainly see, all have failed. ❜

❛ naught can be achieved without sacrifice. ❜

❛ follow me. and, pray, take care not to fall behind. one can easily lose their way here. ❜

❛ if e'er you’re in need of a hearth to return to … then let it be mine. ❜

❛ i may be past my prime as a fighter—but i can still teach. ❜

❛ s‘pose it must make you feel a hero, seeing the person you caught yourself sitting behind bars. ❜

❛ do you think you can exact change in this world through good will alone? ❜

❛ reckon your road‘s been a long one. ❜

❛ i so hoped you’d visit. is that strange? ❜

❛ such knowledge has been known to cost a man his head. ❜

❛ shall we hunt a few monsters to start the day off? ❜

❛ the world shall not change with my death. ❜

❛ wilt thou slay me, or be slain? ❜

❛ 'twas all a farce and i the fool, exulting in my wooden crown. ❜

❛ do as you will. i care not what befalls me now. ❜

❛ i never knew how vast the sky was ere i left home. ❜

#rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme #sentence starters #rp starters #rp sentence starters #my prompts #dragon's dogma prompts #dragon's dogma 2 prompts #i'll make one for dark arisen eventually #maybe

[meanbossart]

Another ask compilation!

There already is some! If you search up "orin the red" in my blog there's some art to be found of them together (after you scroll by all the essay length replies to asks I've gotten about her 🤦) and I definitely want to draw more of it in the future.

(This ask is referring to mine and @barbatusart comics, not my silly BG3 stuff, just in case anyone gets confused) ALAS, Sad Sack and Sortie seem to be what me and Nick have taken to calling part of the Unpublishable Triad: It's Gay, It's Violent, and it's too long. The point is that publishers don't want anything to do with it. We've actually gotten really close once, signed a contract and everything, but then the place gained some traction and decided they didn't want us in their repertoire anymore.

We've considered self-publishing again and again, but unfortunately we don't really have the financial means for something like that. We hope as we expand and entertain slightly less erm outrageous stories that we will come across some new opportunities.

(more asks below the cut)

AGREED, I don't think there's much of a way for me to both keep him in character AND keep her alive (since she has such a problem with Shadowheart) but if Shadowheart hadn't been mega racist I bet Lae'zel and DU drow would have had a lot of funny conflict (he would have relentlessly looked down on her blind faith) broken up with their mutual love for senseless violence. Probably at least 1 rage fuck in there before Astarion came peacocking in.

Thank you!

Not really, I don't really like dividing my attention with other things when I draw, not to mention that I do a lot of picking things up and putting them down again which doesn't seem very apt for art-streaming.

THANK YOU SO MUCH DUDE! I Nick is the sole writer behind the original series and of 95% of Sortie (I butt in there here and there because I'm also a huge Sal fan lol) so all the dope semiotics and symbolism are thanks to him and his big, beautiful brain. I'm beyond lucky to have found someone so talented to work with.

Thank you so much again for your patronage and support, I'm glad you have been enjoying the rest of our work!!!

THANK YOU!!! I draw a lot of inspiration from western comics, and I'm a big fan of the art of Sean Murphy and Jason Shawn Alexander. I was also reading JtHM and Hellsing in middle school which I'm sure caused some kind of irreversible damage to my psyche.

LOL, IT'S AN HONOR TO BE THE FREAK OF THE FANDOM, and it's a joy to hear that I've given you and your friends some good laughs. Thank you!

---

I have a ton of other sweet messages that I can't reply to individually without risking turning this into a LOOK-AT-ME fest, but as always thank you so much to everyone who decides to drop by with a nice word of encouragement, support, or just to let me know that they enjoy my characterizations, I very much appreciate it!

#ask #ask compilation

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Happy New Year!!!

I know it’s a little late, but I wanted to take my time to write this out.

It’s been just over a year since I started this blog!! That’s crazy… For the last twelve or so months, I have had a blast with so many amazing and wonderful people. I am truly so grateful to have found the brilliant community that I have on here. And I cannot wait to see what the new year brings!

Thank you everyone for all your lovely interactions and support!! I have loved connecting with you! I love writing on here. So thank you for reading and supporting me as well!!

Here are some specific shout outs to some very amazing people:

@daydream-cement For all the Gwen (especially Larissa content) you’ve made, Darling. You were my role model when I first got on tumblr for writing. Love you dearly, and we are all blessed to have you <33

@suckerforcate One of the first blogs that I interacted with as a writer on here. I loved reading your content, and you made me feel extremely welcomed on here.

@sevsnapes The whole reason I started writing on tumblr was because of you and your Snape content. My deepest gratitude. I hope you’re doing well!!

@littledollll I was so excited when I found you and your Gwen content! You are such a talented writer, love. I hope to have more conversations with you in the new year!!

@rrcenic My love, my bitch, my home. I love you dearly. And I miss you every second we’re apart. Sending love <33

@chaoticstateofaffairs We meet in my comments sections, and have been practically inseparable since. I am so grateful to you, Cat and Cal, you are fucking amazing.

@scream-queenlover Such a marvelous and beautiful soul and writer! Had so much fun writing collabs with you, and I can’t wait for our next adventure.

@weemssapphic My love, I am so grateful to know you!! You are a shining light in this world, and I couldn’t imagine tumblr without you.

@v3nusxsky We’ve shared some lovely conversations over the last months, talking and asking advice. Plus we wrote that really fun collab together! It’s been a treat to know you.

@pro-weems-places /@anti-bright-places You are such a sweetheart, and your blogs are so lovely. I totally have dm’d you on both accidentally multiple times, but alas, you are marvelous nonetheless!!

@storiesofsvu For tagging and inviting me to participate in your holiday 2023 bingo!! Thanks love! Hope to cross paths more often in the new year!!

@athenodora-sulpicia-writer I have loved our talks and your asks!! And you give the best recommendations. Hope you have a wonderful New Year!

@milfdilflover Sugar, you have given me unconditional love and I deeply thank you for that. You are a pure soul, and tumblr is so lucky to have you.

@neuroprincess I have loved all our conversations over the past few months!! You are so pleasant to converse with, sweetness. Hope the new year brings only more connecting between us!

@vioartemis My lovely, French girlie. I hope you’re well, and had a lovely New Years. Let’s talk more in the New Year!!

@la-muertas-lover Proud to have known you before you were la-muerta, as I have watched your blog blossom. Will always be here for you if you have questions or need advice, sweetheart!!

@inlovewithgreta My fellow MILF enthusiast, our hearts are both claimed by beautiful women… Honored to be on your New Years Post, that I couldn’t not put you on mine 🥰

@muffintopxs You, Darling, reached out to me, and I can’t get enough of your blog. Such great content. Hope to talk to you even more in the new year!

@clarkiewrites I have been honored to guide you and answer your questions this past year, love. You are so bright and tumblr is lucky to have you.

@agnessharknes Had a couple of conversations, mainly know you in passing, but your writing smashes. Hope you’re well, and sending love!!

And there are so so so many others!!! I’m sorry that I couldn’t mention everybody, but wishing you all a Happy New Years!! 💞💞💞

#happy new years #happy new year #new years #new year #happy new years! #happy new year! #new year 2024 #2024 #2024! #2024!!! #thank you thank you thank you #cissyenthusiast010155 talks

[lumax-mayclair]

I’m going through it right now, I know we all are. I finally managed to say to myself today that fexi are never coming back, they’ll never be a thing again and never have a story we can see, whether it would’ve been bad or good; all we have left is each other and I wish I were talented like you guys in order to participate in giving fexi what little life we can but alas I am not talented and what little story ideas I had for them now feel inappropriate given the circumstances (Fezco using, ash mural, themes of sue-of-side etc.) so I just wanted to let you guys know I deeply appreciate anything and everything you’re willing to give us. With as little pressure to you all as possible, I am eagerly waiting for the DWTS fic, for the East Highland Slasher fic, for the Taylor/Travis-inspo fic, for Freaks and Geeks au, GG AU, anything and everything. I check the fexi tag eveyday and I’ll do it as long as a can. Thank you guys for everything.💜

#fexi fic #fexi #lexi howard #fezco #lexi x fez #fez x lexi #fez #fezco euphoria #euphoria #angus cloud

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

two weeks ago // ben barnes

Summary: You and Ben broke up two weeks ago; you’re still not over it, but your friend convinces you to go to a party, and everything goes down when you see Ben there with a new girl.

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunken reader, heartbreak, angst, but a happy ending

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. This isn’t proofread, so I apologize for any grammatical errors this may have

main masterlist  |  ben barnes masterlist

You were well aware that it was a terrible decision.

Attending a party just a fortnight after parting ways with your boyfriend, knowing fully well that he would be there as well? Utterly foolish.

However, your friend Kiernan possessed a remarkable talent for persuasion, and against your better judgment, you succumbed to her coaxing.

Little did you know that this ill-fated night would soon become one of the most wretched experiences of your life, second only to the heart-wrenching night of your breakup with Ben. 

As you found yourself broken and tearful in the shadows, there he stood, radiant and resplendent, looking more magnificent than ever, with an enchanting blonde by his side, her arm intertwined with his.

The audacity of this man!

How dare he?

You swiftly exited the room before he could see you. The last thing you wanted was to grant him the satisfaction of witnessing your tears once more.

Kiernan was hot on your heels. “Y/N, wait! I'm sorry,” she said when she finally caught you. “I had no idea he would bring someone along.”

You offered a small, understanding nod. “Don't blame yourself, Kiki. It's not your fault. I just wanna go home.”

The memory of that fateful night reverberated relentlessly in your mind. The origin of the chaos remained a blur, a hazy recollection lost in the depths of your consciousness. However, there came a moment when tears streamed down your face while Ben struggled to hold back the tears that were brimming in his eyes. Despite the emotional turmoil, his voice remained resolute and unwavering. And within moments, he was walking out the door—not just out of your apartment but out of your life as well.

Maybe it was your fault.

Maybe you should have fought tooth and nail.

Maybe you shouldn't have given up on the slightest problem.

Maybe… Maybe you should have told him you loved him.

Oh, how desperately you wish you could go back to that night and change your mind.

But alas, it was too late now.

He had moved on.

It took him two weeks.

Two fucking weeks.

Maybe you were a fool.

Maybe you weren't as significant to him as you thought.

Maybe you fell harder than he did.

Maybe he didn't even fall.

Maybe he never felt a thing for you.

If he loved you, he would have spoken up, wouldn't he?

If he loved you, he wouldn't have walked away.

The first thing you did when you walked into your apartment was go straight for a bottle of vodka that you and Kiernan had been saving for special occasions. The pain in your heart begged for some kind of relief, and though you were aware that alcohol was merely a temporary and unwise solution, you consumed it without hesitation. The burning sensation as it slid down your throat was a harsh reminder of your desperation, yet you continued to drink until Kiernan swiftly took the bottle from your grasp.

“This isn't the answer, Y/N,” she said, her voice heavy with concern.

“I don't care,” you retorted defiantly, snatching the bottle back and taking another swig. "I’ve lost him forever."

Kiernan's face displayed a mixture of sadness and understanding. She knew all too well the depth of your feelings for Ben.

“Two weeks, Kiki. Just two goddamn weeks.” You slammed the bottle down on the counter, the weight of your emotions crashing down on you. The tears threatened to spill once more as the haunting images invaded your thoughts.

“He's a complete idiot, Y/N. You deserve better.” Your friend's words were meant to console you, but they only fueled the fire of longing within you.

“He's not. He's… he's perfect.”

There it was.

The first tear fell, followed by an unstoppable cascade.

“I want him back.”

Your friend stared at you, baffled. “What the hell, Y/N? Look at yourself. You're crying over him! He hurt you, and now you want him back?”

The irony wasn't lost on you.

You reached out, your trembling hand desperate to reclaim the bottle, but Kiernan swiftly evaded your grasp, maintaining a firm hold. The throbbing ache in your head intensified, a relentless reminder of the pain that consumed you. Was it the incessant crying or the potent alcohol that caused this torment? You couldn't be certain.

“It was a stupid fight,” you mumbled, the words barely escaping your quivering lips. In your heart, you knew that you had let your pride get the best of you, allowing him to slip away without a fight.

Yet, he too had succumbed to his own pride, refusing to stay and resolve the turmoil that had driven you apart. 

It was a tragic dance between two souls too stubborn to admit their mistakes.

“He was with someone else, remember?”

Of course, you remembered. The image was etched into your mind, an indelible mark that you were certain would haunt your dreams tonight.

Overwhelmed by a deluge of emotions, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of despair. Each wave crashing against your fragile spirit, threatening to consume you entirely.

Desperation surged through your veins as you pleaded with Kiernan, “Give me the bottle.” Your outstretched hand reached for the refuge that lay within its glass confines, a temporary escape from the anguish that engulfed you. But Kiernan, ever the vigilant guardian of your well-being, took a step back, denying you that solace for the time being.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice laced with determination. “If you truly want to find solace, then confront him and seek the closure you crave. But resorting to this,” she added, gesturing towards the bottle, “won't resolve your troubles.”

As Kiernan's words sank in, you swiftly reached for your purse, retrieving your phone with purpose.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna call him,” you simply said, unlocking your phone and dialing Ben's number.

Kiernan's eyes widened in alarm, but she was unable to snatch the phone from your grip in time. “No! You're drunk. You'll regret this come morning.”

You hushed her and patiently waited for Ben to answer on the other end. However, instead of hearing his voice, you were directed to his voicemail.

Sadness and longing turned into anger so quickly.

Guess he was too busy with his supermodel to pick up the phone.

So, when the beep signaled that you could finally record your message, you unleashed a torrent of emotions.

“It’s me… How are you doing, darling? I’m sure you’re having the time of your life at the party, but guess what? I'm not there. I'm here, drowning in my own misery. And it’s all your fault! You left me here, all alone, to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.” 

Your voice trembled with a mix of pain, anger, and raw vulnerability as you poured your heart out. The words spilled forth like a river in spate, uncensored and uninhibited. 

“Two weeks! Two fucking weeks! And you’re already parading around some bimbo! But heaven forbid you from being that public with me! I hope she's everything you ever dreamed of. I hope she's the best thing that ever happened to you because you sure as hell are the worst thing that ever happened to me!” The words rolled off your tongue, laced with venom. Kiernan stood there, stunned and taken aback by the unexpected eruption. Silence lingered for a moment, like a thick fog enveloping the room, before you found your voice again.

“You couldn't even pick up the goddamn phone. You were too busy flaunting your new conquest, leaving me here to drown in my own tears. So, congratulations, my love. You broke me. You pushed me to the edge, and now I'm teetering, unsure if I can ever find my way back. But one thing is for certain: I love you, you know? You’re an asshole, but I’m fucking in love with you! And I hate that I can't hate you. Not even now.” 

The fury that consumed your being gradually transformed into anguish, as vulnerability seeped into your voice. “Why wasn't I good enough, huh? Why wasn't I enough? Why did you make me fall madly in love with you, only to walk away? What was cheap to you, to me was all I had… You’re everything I want.” 

By now, tears have cascaded down your face, as if a floodgate had been opened. Kiernan approached you with a gentle caution, reaching out to retrieve the phone from your trembling hand, putting an end to the distressing call.

That was enough for tonight.

Sun rays found their way through the gaps in the blinds, piercing through the darkness and aiming directly at your face. Despite your eyes being tightly shut, the persistent light managed to infiltrate, causing a wave of annoyance to wash over you. Letting out a low groan, you buried your face even deeper into the softness of the pillow. Your head was pounding, pulsating with each heartbeat as if a thousand tiny drums were beating inside your skull. Flashes from last night hit you hard, like a haunting slideshow, further deterring any desire to abandon the safety and comfort of your bed.

“Rise and shine, sunshine.”

Interrupting your struggle, Kiernan's cheerful voice broke through the fog of your discomfort, causing you to emit yet another groan.

“I don’t wanna get up,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow.

“Well, lucky for you, I'm a thoughtful friend, and I'm not going to let you wallow in sadness, basking in your heartbreak,” she declared, pulling back the curtains to flood the room with light. “Come on, I made breakfast.” She clasped her hands together, urging you to leave the bed.

Reluctantly, you complied. You threw on your robe, realizing that you had been too intoxicated the night before to change into your pajamas. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you noticed the smeared makeup and disheveled hair.

Truly, you were a sight to behold.

“Here,” Kiernan said, extending a glass of water and painkillers as you entered the kitchen.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, accepting the offering.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you retorted, taking a bite of the avocado toast to soothe your queasy stomach.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” She probed gently.

“You mean, do I remember witnessing Ben proudly flaunting his new trophy? Yes, I do, Kiernan.”

“What about the phone call?” She asked cautiously, her voice tinged with trepidation.

Confusion furrowed your brow. “What phone call?”

“You don’t remember?” Kiernan's voice betrayed a mixture of surprise and worry.

Clearly, the memory eluded you.

Shaking your head, you implored, “What are you talking about?”

“When we came back from the party, you started drinking and… You were angry and sad… And I swear I tried to stop you, but… ” Kiernan's voice trailed off, her guilt evident.

“Get to the point, Kiernan!”

“You called Ben.”

Your body froze as your friend uttered those words.

Oh, no.

Oh, no…

“He didn’t pick up, though,” she quickly added.

Oh, thank goodness.

“So you left him a voicemail,” she concluded, and suddenly, your entire world collapsed.

“What exactly did I say?” You managed to ask, unsure if you truly wanted to hear the response.

“Well, you called him out for moving on so quickly; you told him that he was the worst thing that had happened to you… And you told him that you loved him.”

You buried your face in your hands, desperately wishing for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. After months of holding back those three words in your relationship, it was beyond frustrating that the first time you uttered them was in a drunken voice message, two weeks after the breakup.

“I can't believe this is happening to me...”

“Maybe he doesn't think anything of it,” Kiernan offered, trying to be helpful, but her attempt fell flat.

Despite the brevity of your relationship, you knew Ben inside and out. There was no way he would overlook that voicemail.

What a way to humiliate yourself... Thank goodness you at least didn't remember it.

It was clear that luck was clearly not on your side, and it became even more apparent when the doorbell suddenly chimed. Glancing at the kitchen clock, you realized it was half past nine in the morning. It was Sunday, and neither you nor Kiernan were expecting any visitors. 

“It’s him,” you said.

Kiernan raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. “How can you be so sure?”

“Who else would it be?” you replied, the weariness of the situation evident in your voice.

“Do you think he cares enough to show up here at this ungodly hour on a Sunday?” Kiernan questioned skeptically.

You shrugged. “He’s full of surprises.”

Which was true. Ben never stopped surprising you, both for better and for worse.

“Do you want me to open?” Kiernan asked.

Did you want her to open the door? It was a valid question, one that left you pondering your own conflicted feelings.

The doorbell rang once more, the sound becoming increasingly irritating.

Resigned, you let out a weary sigh. “Let him in.”

Kiernan approached the door, her hand reaching for the knob. And you were right. It was him. And he kept looking as radiant as the night before, only this time the smile was missing from his face.

“Hey, Kiernan,” he greeted your friend, his voice filled with a mix of familiarity and uncertainty. “Is Y/N home?”

The protective instinct within Kiernan surged forward. “Why do you want to see her?”

“I need to talk to her.”

Reluctantly, Kiernan swung the door open wider, allowing Ben to enter. You avoided eye contact with him; your gaze focused on your friend. At that moment, a silent conversation unfolded between you, the unspoken question, “Are you okay?” hanging in the air. With a simple nod, you reassured your friend, and Kiernan understood your wordless response. She bid her farewell and departed from the apartment.

Once you were alone, silence took over the room. Neither of you uttered a word. You could sense his penetrating gaze fixated on you, yet you stubbornly avoided making eye contact, choosing instead to focus on the coffee that had long since turned cold.

Ben cleared his throat. “Are you not going to say anything?”

With a nonchalant demeanor, you retorted, “You’re the one who came here. I have nothing to say.”

“You seemed to have a lot to say last night.”

Low blow.

You shrugged. “I was drunk.”

A hint of disappointment colored Ben's voice as he replied, “That much I could tell.”

“Then why are you here?” You questioned as your gaze finally met his. 

“There’s nothing between Alexia and me,” he said. “We are just friends.”

Oh, so that’s her name…

You scoffed, your eyes rolling in disbelief. “Yeah, right,” you replied sarcastically. “I don't give a damn. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“You sounded like you really cared in your message.”

“I don’t remember what I said; I was drunk… People do stupid shit when they’re drunk. Calling their exes is one of them.”

“You know, it’s not fair that you blame our breakup solely on me.”

“I'm not blaming you,” you sighed, feeling the weight of your throbbing headache and aching heart. “Nobody is.”

“Yes, you did. You said it was all my fault.”

You let out a groan, the pain in your head intensifying. This conversation was the last thing you needed right now.

“Why do you even care about what I said? You've moved on, haven't you? Go spend your day with your new girl!”

“Alexia and I are just friends,” he insisted once again.

“Well, if that’s how you act with your friends, I’m glad we are no longer together.”

His face contorted into a frown, clearly stung by your words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She clearly fits your type. I see you have no problem flaunting her around town,” you calmly stated, though your words dripped with underlying resentment. “I suppose your privacy isn't a priority anymore.”

“I don’t like what you are insinuating, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice heavy with displeasure.

“I am not insinuating anything; I am simply stating the facts. How many times have you gone out of your way to avoid being seen with me by the paparazzi? How many times have you refused to hold my hand in public?” Your frustration grew as you spoke the unadulterated truth, while he attempted to invalidate your feelings. “I guess you don't care about being seen with her and rumors circulating. So, it's evident that the problem lies with me. I’m sorry for not being good enough for you, for being beneath you in every aspect.”

“Is that what you think of me?” he inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. “That’s the kind of guy you think I am?”

“It's the image you're portraying,” you responded, resolute in your stance.

“I was trying to protect you!”

“How considerate you are… Well, thank you very much for your protection… Look where we are because of it.”

“Stop blaming me!”

“It is your fault!” You finally raised your voice. “You're the one flaunting your new fling just two weeks after we called it quits… It’s wonderful to see how much our relationship meant to you.”

For a moment, a flicker of regret glinted in Ben's eyes. “I never wanted it to end this way.” His admission was soft, almost defeated. 

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what could have been. You felt the anger still coursing through your body, but you knew that engaging in another pointless argument with him would only lead to more pain.

"It's too late now," you replied calmly. 

What’s done is done. And no matter how much you wanted to go back to that dreadful night and change your mind. The urge to rush into his arms, seeking the solace that had always been exclusive to his embrace had to be dismissed.

It didn’t matter, because he didn’t want you back.

“Is it?” he asked, his voice tinged with a glimmer of hope.

What?

He approached the kitchen counter, where you remained steadfast, having not budged from that spot since he had stepped foot into the apartment.

You furrowed your brow, trying to make sense of his words. His statement didn't quite match up with the situation.

“Is it too late, Y/N?” he asked again. 

“Of course, it’s too late. You’re with someone new,” you replied, your voice laced with a tinge of bitterness.

Ben let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “For the last time, I’m not dating Alexia.”

Your retort was on the tip of your tongue, ready to be unleashed, but before you could utter a word, he spoke again.

“We both got cast in a movie together, and they wanted us to go to that party as a pair.”

“You got the part?” You asked, momentarily forgetting about the situation at hand.

For weeks, Ben had been eagerly awaiting that phone call. Even during moments of doubt, you had been there to reassure him that he had done an amazing job during his audition, and it was only a matter of time before he received the call.

And you had been right. They called, and he got the role. However, you had not been there to celebrate with him as you had promised.

A small smile formed on his lips. Though subtle, it still made your stomach flip inside you. It held a certain charm that made it impossible to resist. 

“Yeah, I did.”

“Told you, you would,” you said. “I didn't peg you for someone who would pull a PR stunt, though.”

“I didn’t have a say in it.”

Silence hung in the air. While you were unfamiliar with the inner workings of the industry, you understood that actors often had no option but to partake in such stunts to capture public and media attention. You couldn't hold him responsible for succumbing to the pressure.

“She’s really pretty.” Your focus returned to your coffee, unable to meet his gaze, not when you were feeling this vulnerable and tears were welling up in your eyes.

“Yeah, she is… But she’s not you,” he replied softly, his words infused with genuine sincerity. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/N, and I wish I could go back to that night; I really do.” 

His confession compelled you to lift your head, locking eyes with him once more. At that moment, you realized he too was battling his own tears, his gaze reflecting nothing but honesty and vulnerability.

“I wish I could take it all back, take back the hurt I've caused you,” he continued, a hint of remorse in his voice. “And I wish I had told you I loved you.”

A lump seized your throat when you heard him pronounce those three words. Those three words that you had left in his voicemail—a message you had no memory of recording.

“Did you mean it?” he asked cautiously.

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

How could you not love him? It was as if a magnetic force had brought you together from the very first glance. A connection so strong, it awakened emotions you never knew existed. He had a way of making you feel special. Every second spent by his side was filled with joy, comfort, and a deep sense of belonging. It was impossible not to be drawn to his kind soul. Yes, of course you loved him, because he brought out the best in you and made you believe in love.

With a gentle touch, his hand extended to brush away a tear trickling down your cheek. The warmth of his hand against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, how badly you had missed his touch…

“I love you,” you finally whispered. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

As the words escaped your lips, a wave of relief washed over you. The weight on your chest began to lift, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

Ben's eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and joy dancing within them. A tender smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as he leaned in closer, his forehead gently resting against yours.

Those three words, so delicately uttered, felt like a dream to him. They held a different meaning than the drunken voicemail he had listened to. They felt real and genuine. It was as if the alcohol had merely blurred the edges of your emotions, while now, in this vulnerable moment, they shone with clarity and truth.

The walls between you crumbled, and all that remained was the rawness of your emotions. You found solace in each other's vulnerability, knowing that you were both willing to mend what had been broken.

“I don't want to lose you. I want to make things right; give us another chance.”

There they were. The words you had longed to hear for two weeks, and which you thought you'd only hear in your dreams.

He wanted you back.

And you wanted him back.

Yet, a sense of hesitation crept over you.

“I don’t want to lose you either, but we can’t just ignore what happened.”

He gripped your hand tightly as if he feared you’d slip away again. “I understand, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I want us to grow stronger from this.”

You traced the lines on his palm, feeling the warmth and stability that had been missing for these agonizing weeks. “It still hurts. How can you guarantee it won’t happen again?”

“I can't guarantee anything, but I can promise to be more mindful of your feelings. To communicate openly and honestly, rather than burying things under layers of bitterness and silence. I never want to hurt you again.”

You looked into his eyes, sensing the honesty that radiated from within, and you realized that the love you felt for him was stronger than the hurt that had led to your breakup. His vulnerability and his willingness to confront his own mistakes and grow from them spoke volumes about the person he was and the depth of his love for you.

“Let’s give it another chance.”

Ben's eyes filled with a sense of relief, and he released a deep breath he had been holding onto for far too long. With a tender motion, he closed the tiny gap between your mouths. 

Oh, how badly you have craved his soft lips… You almost forgot how good they felt against yours.

Your lips molded against each other with a perfect fit. The taste of familiarity and warmth danced on your tongue, blending with the electric pulse coursing through your veins. 

As you reluctantly pulled apart, you instinctively enveloped him in your arms. Your face nestled into the crook of his neck, taking in the comforting scent that was uniquely his. In response, he reciprocated the gesture, encircling you tightly in his embrace, drawing you even closer... 

“I’ve missed you,” you mumbled against his skin.

Oh, how good it felt to be back in his arms…

Ben let out a satisfied sigh, his embrace growing tighter as he murmured softly, “I’ve missed you, too.”

You held onto him tightly, savoring the moment. The past two weeks behind you, no longer relevant to the future that lies ahead of you.

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes oneshot #ben barnes one shot #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fic

[the-feels-assassin]

A Pern/Avengers Crossover (That No One Asked for)

So I was reading a recent popular book involving dragons and dragonriders, and thinking how much I like the Dragonriders of Pern better (lol), and of course my brain did it's thing. So here you have it. My definitive opinion on what sorts of people the Avengers would be in the world of Pern.

We're gonna start with Steve/Peggy/Bucky because I HAVE THOUGHTS:

Of course this is during a Pass, because Steve/Peggy/Bucky have to be during a time of War and a Pass is the closet we have to War in the Dragonrider sof Pern.

Steve Rogers: oh, Steve. Poor, tiny, sickly Steve. He and Bucky are fosters at a Weyr, but no one expects/wants Steve to bond a dragon because no one is confident this sickly kid is going to live through the night at any given time. So either they keep him off the sands during a hatching or he's up in the bleachers. But Steve, being Steve, we get a Jaxom or Keevan scenario. No one means Steve to Impress a dragon, but of course you can't communicate that to freshly hatched dragons. And so of course between the sheer determination of Steve pulling himself out of the infirmary (ala Keevan in The Smallest Dragon Boy) and the stubbornness of the dragon refusing everyone on the sands (ala Ruth looking for Jaxom), we get tiny Steve Rogers bonded to what will be the biggest, most powerful Bronze Dragon the Weyr has ever seen. Steve becomes a Wingleader and everyone expect he'll be Weyrleader one day when Peggy becomes head Weyrwoman. Which leads us to Peggy Carter

Peggy Carter: Peggy is a rider of a gold dragon, of course she is. She was fostered in a different Weyr from Steve and Bucky (hence the different accent), but due to injuries and deaths during the passes, she gets redistributed to another Weyr that is lean on Golds and their leading Gold and Weyrwoman are aging. Peggy will be the next Weyrwoman. She is Peggy Carter in every way, fierce and determined, and like Lessa she fights the leadership of her time to enable Gold dragons to fight. Because Peggy Carter is all about sticking it to the patriarchy.

Bucky Barnes: Bucky Barnes is solid and reliable and dependable. He Impressed one of those Brown dragons that's as big as a Bronze (ala F'nor and Canth). He is Steve's Wing-Second. And then something happens while they are fighting Thread. Bucky is hit. Thread takes his left arm and sears most of his dragon on the left side. His dragon jumps Between and never comes back. Everyone assumes Bucky went with him, dead.

Everyone, of course, assumes wrong.

So what happens to Steve?

Steve just fought Thread, the battle is over and he's beat, and he's just doing a sweep to make sure nothing got through. It's time to go home; he goes to jump Between. He accidentally jumps time. He envisioned something off--something in the stars, maybe it was a night jump?--and suddenly he's in the future. He has no idea how to get back. Steve Rogers is a bit of a legend. His arrival sends both the Weyr into chaos, but also no one really believes it's him. They need the Harpers to verify, since the Harpers hold the history of Pern.

Which of course...brings us to SHIELD.

Because we all know the Harpers are the Spies of Pern, and the Masterharper of Pern is the most powerful man on Pern (search your feelings, you know it to be true) so of course I'm saying that:

Nick Fury: Nick Fury is the mother-loving Masterharper of Pern. Look, I don't care if he doesn't sing or play an instrument that we know of in the Marvel movies. In the Pern novels, Robinton has his fingers in EVERYTHING. He is the puppet master. Nick Fury is the Masterharper of Pern. I will brook no argument on this. Which of course means all of our SHIELD agents are harpers. Yes. It's wonderful.

Clint Barton: I mean how could Clint Barton NOT be a harper? He grew up Holdless. He picked up his acrobatic, juggling, and archery skills as a Holdless kid. But a Harper (probably Fury) saw his talent and potential and recruited him to be a Harper. Sure the kid is partially deaf, but he's a natural with an instrument and a born-entertainer. He's also so darn personable. Everyone immediately likes him and trusts him and tells him things. So of course, of course he's a perfect Harper, a perfect person to collect information and brook trust with the Holdless, Holds, and Weyrs alike.

Natasha Romanoff: There isn't really an equivalent of the Soviet Union in Pern. Natasha grows up in the Southern Continent, maybe the child of an Oldtimer exiled there. I think like Menolly, Natasha naturally Impressed a whole little flight of fire lizards, because she is like that. While Natasha is raised in an environment where all those in the Northern Continent are the enemy, eventually she meets Clint Barton and is recruited to Harper Hall and to the cause of ridding Pern of thread forever (the Ultimate Goal).

Phil Coulson: Look he makes Harper Hall run. He mostly stays in Harper Hall while Fury is out doing God knows what, and it's Coulson who is keeping tabs and getting reports from Barton and Romanoff.

Okay but what about Tony and Bruce? They are the last two Main Avengers left.

Tony Stark: Obviously the youngest Master ever at Smithcraft Hall. Could be on track to be the next Mastersmith BUT you know Tony. He likes to work on what he wants to work on. He's a genius and we love him, but staying within an authority matrix or running one isn't his strong suit. Eventually he becomes the head of Computer craft, when he meets....

JARVIS: Obviously the AIVAS analog. Tony is just bitter he didn't invent JARVIS himself. In this AU, I think it's Natasha who discovers AIVAS, while messing around on the Southern continent, doing her undercover recon thing. She sends her queen firelizard (the only one with two brain cells, obviously) to report back to Fury, who immediately gets Tony down there via Dragon. And of course that Dragonrider is none other than Tony's best friend.

James Rhodes: Rhodey was raised in Smithcraft Hall, went to be fostered at a Weyr for a short period of time, mainly to learn more about the Weyr's needs and how Smithcraft Hall could better plug in and whoops, impressed a dragon. Tony is still mad his best friend "abandoned him" for a "giant lizard" (which really Tony is just incredibly jealous. Who doesn't want to be a dragonrider?).

Bruce Banner: Bruce is basically the opposite of Rhodey. He was a dragonrider and he lost his dragon fighting Thread. This has left Bruce teetering between suicidal depression and complete rage. He's found new purpose in Smithcraft Hall and has become friends with Tony, but there is just a pain in him that is indescribable and everyone who interacts with him can feel it. In this AU, General Ross is the Weyrleader of the Weyr that Bruce was in--Betty is still his daughter and a gold rider. But since Bruce's bronze dragon is dead, well, there is just really no future for him and Betty.

Okay that's it for now. I have no idea what happened to Bucky (how does he come back? What is a Winter Soldier equivalent in Pern??), and I have no intention of writing a story in this AU, but inexplicably this keeps coming to me.

#long post #Avengers #Dragonriders of Pern #crossover #an AU no one asked for

[myreia]

wip whenever

tagged by @galadae and @coldshrugs, thank you! 💖

tagging @bearlytolerant, @thevikingwoman, @impossible-rat-babies, @hylfystt, @allaganexarch, @birues & @roguelioness.

I'm lost in an Echo scene from Chapter 5, Aureia's family sucks. ✌️Stormblood spoilers-ish.

Laughter hums on Elgara’s lips and she returns to her paperwork with smooth, controlled movements. Kallias has always been easy to rile up. It is his greatest weakness—and it is easy to exploit.

“That possessive streak will be the end of you,” she says, tutting lightly. “Go about it then, if you’re so inclined. You don’t need my permission. I’m sure the legatuses would be overjoyed to hear of the death of the Warrior of Light. Perhaps if you offer them proof, they would even reward you.”

He snarls under his breath and bites his tongue, his riposte contained.

“Or does the thought give you pause? Do you fear, perhaps, that you aren’t strong enough? Is that why you’ve come here, crawling back to your mother, riddled with doubt and uncertainty?”

“I don’t doubt, I—”

Elgara sets her pen aside and rises from her chair, unfurling to her full height. She towers above her son, casting a long shadow across the observation deck’s floor. “Kira has something you don’t,” she says. “She has had it her whole life, it is what made her unique. Special. An asset. Your father and I sought to tap it, but we did not have the knowledge or the foresight to understand what we were dealing with. But Aulus mal Asina did. He was a visionary. And someone must continue his work.”

Red. Blue. Red. Blue.

The lights cycle, flashing over Elgara and Kallias, casting them into darkness. The solider inhales once more, her breath as sharp as ice. She presses herself against the door, gazing inwards, her form unnoticed in the shadows. A shiver ran down her spine at the mention of Aulus’ name. She recalls him, of course she does. She remembers his youth when she met him near two decades ago, bright-eyed and intense, speaking theories dismissed by his superiors as fanciful dreams at best and psychosis at worst. It was he who first spoke of Echoes and Resonants, of gifting the Garlean people the ability to control aether.

She recalls what he did to Krile. What he did to Fordola… and Zenos, too.  

How his life ended, screeching about data and souls with his dying breath on the floor of the Ala Mhigan palace. Forgotten and abandoned by the prince he had devoted himself to.

His research, as he called it, should have ended there.

Inside the observation room, Elgara approaches her son step by dreaded step. She may be no soldier, and yet she engulfs him. Outmatches him. Outwits him. Kallias is no small man, and yet compared to her imposing height he is so small. So insignificant.

“Don’t you see, Kal?” she says, her voice low and strangely soothing in its intensity. The voice of someone who can lull others into implicit trust by the sheer power of command and self-assurance. “Kira is a liability, but liabilities can be exploited. Her usefulness to Garlemald has not ended. You wish to kill her; I will not doubt your thirst for vengeance, it is more than understandable. But think on it. Kill her and we lose her forever.”

He grunts, the panicked sound strangled in his throat. “Have you forgotten what she’s done, mother? What she—”

“Shh.” She arrives before him and places a hand to his chin. It’s a gentle gesture; on anyone else it would be caring. But on her it is empty, a gesture of inspection and observation. “Capture her and our opportunities are thrown wide. We can reclaim what we have lost, you and I. Theorzen will be a name to be respected; no longer will it be spat upon like the rest.”

He closes his eyes, his expression still.

“You deserve more than the lot you have been given, Kallias. And she can gift you the strength you deserve to carry. The skills and talents that should have gone to you. A transference. A replication. A Resonant of your very own, one derived from the Warrior of Light. With it, you can have your vengeance. With it, you can outmatch even Zenos himself.”

His eyelids flutter and he grimaces, lip curling back. Then he crumples into her and clings, shoulders shuddering with the aftershock of silent tears. In this moment, there is no sign of the operative and the spy. In this moment, he is a child coming home.

It makes the soldier’s blood boil. Lost in her anger, she slips and cracks her forehead against the door, helmet banging against the glass. Her vision blurs red and her knees give out from under her. When she finally clears her vision, she finds herself huddles on the stairwell floor, looking in as Elgara enfolds her son into her embrace.

A spike of jealousy flares in the pit of her stomach. Unwanted. Unneeded. Unexplained.  

She curses her inability to do anything but observe.

Elgara cradles him, a hand resting against the back of his head, stroking his matted hair. “Bring your sister to me, Kal,” she croons. “Bring her to me and I can make it happen. I wish for it to happen. It should have been you all along.”

Kallias stills. His expression hardens, his lips pressed firm together. Slowly, one by one his fingers lift as he loosens his grip. The danger and the malice return, blazing bright in his red eyes. “No,” he breathes.

#ffxiv #writing tag