#i was telling bones that it was really special since shes the one that inspired me to try my hand at translyrics in the first place and ive

[moorishflower]

aulon raid (Hob/Dream)

this is a fic about worship and wanting to beat the shit out of nazis

it's inspired by Bishop Marcellus of Apamea and those twitter posts about the guy in the crust punk bar

Sometimes, and especially around holidays, when the University is quiet and bereft of students, Hob tends the bar at The New Inn.

Dream sits and watches him, how he moves so easily from patron to patron; conversation comes to him as naturally as breathing. He does not think it of himself, but Hob Gadling is a born storyteller, a man whose mere presence evokes memory and description.

A young woman with mascara smeared in runny lines beneath her eyes drinks shot after shot of tequila and tells the story of her now-ex-boyfriend while Hob leans across the bar, the rakish line of his spine and hips and buttocks at odds with his concerned expression. When she orders another drink, Hob touches her hand and murmurs something inaudible. She shakes her head, and he repeats it, insistent, and finally she relents. This story has a happy ending, Dream knows – she does not try to drive herself home. She avoids a car accident that would have left her sunk so deep in the Dreaming she would never wake.

Two men in their fifties order cosmopolitans – they knock their shoulders together, they laugh, they lean their heads close. Hob brings them their drinks, and one man raises his left hand to show off the ring on his finger. Hob is interested, lively, congratulatory; the man tells the story of how he and his new husband met, thirty years prior. It’s full of in-jokes and hidden, meaningful glances, of love sought in dark times, watching friends die, lovers die. Hob is sympathetic. “I remember,” he says, and both husbands laugh. “Really! I’m older than I look. I got my father’s good genes.”

This story also has a happy ending. These men are married. They have passed through dark shadows into bright sunlight, and will live the rest of their natural lives together. It is a story that might never have been told aloud but for The New Inn, a mixed drink, a friendly ear.

This place is a temple, Dream thinks. This place is a monument to human experience which Hob raised from dust and sorrow, shrouded the bones of his regrets in the living-skin of storytelling. He built this temple for Dream.

He sits at the bar and watches Hob go about his work. It has been several months since he set foot in this place for the first time, a warm summer day, a reunion, a friendship. “A hundred years, then?” Hob had asked, and Dream does not profess to truly read the minds of men, but even in that single sentence he had heard the trepidation.

“I have been told,” he’d said, “that friends meet more often than once a century.”

Once a year, he had thought. Perhaps more often, if Hob were amenable to visits in his dreams. How quickly that had changed – Hob is passionate, ebullient, he pours joy into every room in which he treads. Once a month had become twice, and then once a week. Come over for lunch, he’d said. Come over for tea. Do you like McVitie’s?

People dream of tea, of biscuits, the intimate ceremony of sharing a drink with a friend. Hob demonstrated for him how to dunk the chocolate digestives into his tea, and Dream did not tell him that he sees the long, unspooling thread of time stretching out before and behind them, that tea is a far more ancient thing than even Hob, that he has personally witnessed countless dreams of nearly this exact act performed by monarchs, celebrities, poets.

He watched Hob hold the biscuit in a delicate thumb and forefinger grip, and found it special because it was Hob.

If Dream be the Prince of Stories (and he is, and shall be, forever), then this, surely, is the happy ending: a bar built in his name, a tale uttered in his presence, a friend setting a drink before him and smiling. He has dwelt so long in the dark that even this simple kindness seems outrageous. More than once he has felt a too-familiar sting in his eyes.

Hob has never once begrudged him.

“All right, Dream?”

Hob is there when he looks up, his head ducked down to try and see under the fall of Dream’s hair, his eyes soft and concerned. It is nearly eleven o’clock, and Hob’s relief does not come until one; he looks tired, but no less friendly for it.

The thought sidles into Dream, a quiet thief, a cat at midnight: I want to kiss him. He wants to kiss the rough-stubbled cheek and the expressive lips, touch his tongue to the chapped spot on the lower where Hob has nipped himself raw, he wants to put his hands in soft clean hair and tilt his head back and drink all the gentle sounds he suspects Hob will make, sighs and groans and lustful exultations.

He takes the shot that is being offered. He sips it, because it is polite, and because it pleases Hob, whose expression is moved from concern to an aching soft fondness.

“Listen,” he says. “I know you keep your secrets, and that’s fine. More than fine. Just knowing your name is more than I ever thought I’d get. But if you want to talk, about anything…I’m here. For you.”

Dream is not a god, but nevertheless, in this temple built in his honor, he has been a cruel god. His most earnest and honest worshiper has gone six-hundred years not even knowing to whom he has prayed. Again, he feels the wanting, to kiss Hob across this bar, to whisper ardent forgive mes into his pleasing mouth. I will be different, he could say. I am already different.

The drink is sweet, spicy, warming. He licks his lips and chases the taste of cinnamon and almond, is surprised to find the rest of the shot is already gone. Hob looks terribly smug.

“Cinnamon toasty,” he says, and Dream pages through a narrow sea of dreams, warming drinks had with friends, winter holidays, the clink of glasses. Schnapps and amaretto. “It’s simple, but lovely for this time of year.”

Inside, The New Inn is warmth and comfort. At some point he will return to the Dreaming, where memories of snow have made themselves at home in a thick blanket over the palace grounds. For now, he gazes up at Hob and thinks of supplication; his wanting covers him like a dense winter jacket. He would lay this man out on the altar he has built, and in full sight of all other adherents he would profess him holy. He would kiss the center of his forehead, he would anoint him in the oils of this temple: water, sugar, hops, words and words and words.

The front door opens, and Hob is staring at him, his eyes first squinting, and then widening. More than a hundred years of nothing but his own reflection, and Dream has fallen out of the practice of mimicking human expression. Something must show in his countenance, and it sends a pang through him like a bare foot on broken glass, sudden, sharp, unwanted.

A person sits beside him at the bar, and Hob blinks, and his gaze skirts aside. Dream forces himself to affect breathing, and finds it, absurdly, comforting. To hone on the simple mechanical action of lungs and throat and nostrils.

“No,” Hob says. Dream refocuses, watches Hob sway back from the bartop, affront creeping across his face, disdain stealing through his mouth. He is not looking at Dream, but at the man who has sat beside him. “Get out.”

“Hey, I’m not doing anything. I’m a paying customer.”

“Don’t care. I said out, now.” There is thunder in his voice. There is an old and scarred-over hatred. There is anger. Hob reaches for a baseball bat that leans against the wall behind the bar, and Dream has never considered its use before, but now he understands.

In ancient dreams he has watched the destruction of a temple, a Bishop stood apart, waiting to pass judgment. He has watched this man committed to the fire by the very pagans he sought to subjugate. He has felt their fervent belief, he knows the shape of what they would do to defend their temple, their gods, their holy words.

Hob lifts the bat an inch higher, and the man gets up from his seat. His arms are lifted in defiance; Hob is broad-shouldered, straight-backed, his forearms are corded in muscle and there is the white line of a scar on his cheek from a longsword that has long since crumbled to dust, and yet Hob still remains. His hair is tied back in a small bun; he is filled with righteous fury.

“Fuck you,” the man is shouting. The two husbands have huddled together at the other end of the bar. The girl who will live tonight, and tomorrow night, and hundreds of nights after, has gotten up and moved closer to the door. “Everywhere else is closed, I just wanted a drink. Fucking fag lover bar. Not worth my money. Fuck you.”

“Get the fuck out,” Hob says, and the bat comes up, and he starts to step around the bar. He crackles with an energy that only Dream sees, but is easily felt by all who’ve set foot in this holy place. It is restrained violence, devout intensity, it’s faith.

The man leaves, shouting and swearing. His dreams are petty, arrogant things for a petty and arrogant man – tonight he will visit Dream’s kingdom and find nothing waiting for him but nightmares. So it goes.

Hob leans the bat against the wall. He pushes back a lock of hair that has fallen into his eyes, his bun come just a bit undone, messy and loose when he slides back in front of Dream.

“Sorry,” he says, “you had to see that. I swear, there’s more and more of them every year.”

“Them?”

Hob tilts his head towards the door. “Dunno if you saw his vest. Iron crosses, sig runes. Just a load of nazi shit. Hate that I have to devote part of my brain to remembering all their stupid little secret symbols.”

The husbands are bent close together again, talking quietly. The girl with the mascara has stepped outside; she is calling a cab. Hob is once again focused on him, wholly, irrefutably.

“You have to kick them out right away,” he says, musing. “It’s always a nice one at first, and you don’t want to cause a scene. And if you let them become a regular, then they bring a friend who isn’t so bad. At first. Then the friend brings friends, and they bring friends. And suddenly you’re a nazi bar, and they outnumber you.”

He rocks back on the balls of his feet, tucking his thumbs into the band of his jeans. Soft blue denim. A shirt for a football team that Dream does not care to recognize. He has gone sweet and soft once more, no hint of the reddened anger, the offense at the liberties that man had dared to take.

“You would defend this place so ardently?” Dream asks. He feels his voice like the rumble of a volcano. There is a fire in him, stoking higher and higher; he yearns, he wants, he turns towards Hob as mankind once turned towards the divine. “At the risk of injury to yourself?”

Hob tugs at his ear, a familiar gesture. His cheeks are flushed, Dream notes. He feels the edges of a daydream creep along the edges of himself – soft hair as black as midnight, a pale mouth opened in a gasp, a voice in his ear: You need not have come to my defense.

“Can’t die, remember?” Hob’s hand falls back to his side. He looks, suddenly, nervous. “Besides. Can’t have you visiting me in a bar full of nazis. Last thing I wanted when I built this place for you.”

And there it is, so plainly spoken that it hurts to think about. This place for you. This temple of stories, this pagan tribute, this venerated hall.

“Hob,” he says, and the man leans forward, his nervousness becoming concern at the shake in Dream’s voice, the resonating burr.

He reaches across the bar and grabs a fistful of Hob’s shirt. It is an easy thing to drag him forward, to stand up on the tips of his toes to give himself the best leverage, and Dream leans over the empty shotglass and finds the mouth that blesses him. He wants to climb atop this bar and drag Hob down onto him, wants to feel the heavy figure ground him in earthly delight. He wants to have Hob kneeling in front of him, he wants to kneel, he wants to take Hob inside his body, he wants to consecrate this place with the severity of his longing.

He settles for a kiss, for slotting his mouth to Hob’s mouth, the rough chapped patch, the warm scent of his breath, a hand cupped to Hob’s cheek against day-old stubble. He sweeps his tongue through and tastes devotion – it tastes like almonds, sweet and subtle. 

At the other end of the bar the husbands erupt in claps and whistles, and Hob draws away, his eyes wide and dark, his lips reddened.

“I’m,” he starts to say and his voice croaks. He tries again. “I am so sorry, everyone, but we’ve got to close early. Maintenance reasons. Right.”

“Looks like the maintenance has been a long time coming,” one of the husbands says. They’re finishing their drinks, they are standing to leave, they are looking at each other with unconcealed affection and no small amount of lust. Tonight, they will dream of each other. Tomorrow, they will tell the story of two young men in a bar, the flush of new love, of one coming to the defense of the other. He feels it like a pleasant bruise, a story about him.

“Dream,” Hob says. The name is benediction in his mouth. Traversing around the bar will take far too much time. Dream hoists himself up onto the bartop, sending the shotglass spinning away, and Hob is laughing, “You lunatic, I haven’t wiped it down yet, it’s sticky.”

He doesn’t care. In this hallowed place, this blessed temple of song, Dream pulls Hob closer and finds his mouth once more, wraps his arms around the strong shoulders, gets his hands into the remains of the messy bun and pulls it into loose silk over his fingers.

Hob tells the story of them with mouth and tongue and fingers tripping over bare skin, and Dream, worshiped, worshiping, listens.

#dreamling #the sandman #the sandman (2022) #the sandman fic #dream of the endless/hob gadling #dream/hob #my fic #sfw

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

Rated E for Elden Ring

So this was a funny little silly idea that somehow turned into a 6000+ word monster.  Don’t ask me how.  It is set in my Twitch AU or Gamer AU, where Ava is a Twitch streamer and Lilith is a lawyer.  They live together and are in love.  This originated from a small writing prompt about a month ago that you can read here, and I just got inspiration to expand on it.  Hope you guys enjoy!

Rated: E for Elden Ring (officially made this the title hehe)

//////

It was supposed to be a surprise.  That’s what you had planned for.  And you really did.  Plan, that is.  You thought of everything.  You picked out the day almost two weeks in advance, you changed your stream schedule accordingly so you would have most of the night free, you even covertly snuck peeks at Lilith’s work calendar to make sure the timing was right.  You did your research while she was away at the courthouse.  You hovered around the front door of your apartment building like a creep to intercept the package and hide it before she got home.  You even sacrificed your practice time with the new COD game to watch literal hours of tutorial videos to make sure you wouldn’t mess it up.  You did everything, all for her.

Lilith’s caseload had been driving her to exhaustion for the past month.  Her schedule had been packed wall-to-wall with difficult court battle after difficult court battle, and it showed no sign of easing up any time soon.  Being the most well-regarded civil attorney in the city had many advantages, but the price she paid to do it often seemed just as high.

You could tell that the stress was slowly wearing her down to the bone.  She was accustomed to working long hours, but this was excessive.  There were days where you barely saw her because she would leave for early meetings and not get back until you were getting into bed.  She was bristly by nature, but as the weeks wore on, she was becoming downright moody, grumbling and growling at the smallest inconveniences.  Three days ago, you caught her slapping the printer around when it had the audacity to jam.

It was all getting to be too much, and you wanted to try to help before it could get any worse.  But it was a tall order to fill, and for a while you weren't sure that you could do it.  You weren't a lawyer, and quite frankly you didn't know shit about laws and courts and whatever, so it's not like you could make her actual job easier.  You had briefly entertained a fantasy of breaking into the courtroom MGS-style and rearranging all of their schedules, but that was as far as you went down that avenue.  No, if you were going to pull this off, you'd have to utilize your own special set of skills.

You knew a large part of Lilith’s frustration was sexual.  It had already been a week since the last time you both had the energy and time to do anything, and for two highly physical people, one week of blue balls was tantamount to torture.  (You were feeling it too.  Your vibrator had seen more use in the past four days than it had since you started dating.)  So, you figured the best way to help her cool off was to, paradoxically, spend an entire evening having really, really hot sex.  Thus, the seed of your eventual plan was born.

Lilith wasn’t one for big gifts or grand gestures.  You suspected that any fondness she might have had for them was long ago drained out of her by her family.  This wasn’t really big or grand, but you put time into it, and you made your decisions with her in mind, so you thought she would appreciate it more.

Your grand scheme was this: Lilith was supposed to get home around 5, the earliest she's been able to manage in weeks, and you were going to be ready.  You had made the arduous trek to the nearest liquor store to find a bottle of her favorite wine and shelled out a tear-jerking amount of money to buy it.  When she got home, you would present her with a glass and coax her into relaxing on your couch while you went to do your stream.  Then, half-way through your stream, you would place an order out to the Lebanese place down the street to show up around when you finished.  Finally, when the stream was done and you were able to lure her in with delicious takeout, you would reveal your surprise.

That last part proved to be the most difficult, which you probably should have expected.  Even now, with thirty minutes to spare, you couldn’t resist peeking down your t-shirt to make sure the configurations you had painstakingly labored over were still holding up.

Who knew there were so many types of bondage ribbons?  Okay sike, you did, because this idea didn’t spring fully-formed from your brain meat on a whim.  What you didn’t know was just how many ways they could be used.  There was legit, like, a whole-ass art form about it  Your research had led you down a somewhat dizzying rabbit hole of bondage 101 and shibari tutorial sites, deep enough to have you sounding out terms like "loop chain", "gote", and "hishi karada".  You knew you wanted something you could hide under your clothes, and within that parameter alone there were almost too many options to choose from.  You settled on one that looked elaborate but that the tutorials promised would be easier than most: the diamond hishi karada.  This tie would see lines of silk criss cross along the whole of your torso and back, framing your tits, looping low around your neck, and forming a lattice that would hold securely for as long as you needed it to.

Once you decided on the tie, you picked out the ribbon.  Lilith was reticent by nature, and often kept her thoughts and feelings thoroughly closed off to others, but there were some things even she couldn’t hide from an observant eye.  One was that she was kind of obsessed with fine fabrics, the nicer the better.  When you first started dating seriously, she was quick to lavish you with gifts of expensive clothes, silks and cashmeres selected by hand and meticulously tested for quality before she brought them home.  (The very first time she did this was one of your favorite memories of her.  She showed up at your shitty studio apartment with a glare so focused and serious that you thought she was breaking up with you two weeks into your relationship.  Imagine your surprise when instead she stiffly presented you with a box from one of the most bougie boutiques in the city.  She was so serious about it that you couldn’t help but laugh at how severe her face was as she gave it to you.  You teased her about terrifying some poor shop girl before kissing the responding scowl right off her face.)

The second thing she couldn’t hide was her favorite color.  It showed up in little ways in her wardrobe, and around her space.  It was always just a touch, an accent, nothing that could ever be called overwhelming or garish, but you were quick to cotton on to it.  Lilith loved blue.  All kinds, but especially darker shades like navy and midnight.  It was evident if you knew what to look for, and therefore obvious to you since you made a hobby of watching everything your girlfriend said and did.  A blue blouse tucked neatly inside a neutral gray blazer, sleek silver jewelry crusted in tiny sapphires, an indigo phone case and small pieces of furniture, never larger than a lamp or the cushion of a chair.  Lilith was taught to restrain herself in every aspect of her life.  That was apparent almost from the moment you met her.  But she couldn’t suppress everything, and you had been working very carefully over the past year and a half to coax her into expressing more her tastes and interests.

So with that in mind, picking the ribbon was pretty easy.  You took some haphazard measurements of your body in order to select the right length, and you researched what kind of fabric would be strong enough for the activities you wanted it for.  The guides you read suggested silk (and boy, was it not cheap), so you found the brand with the right colors and the best reviews and paid to have it shipped as quickly as possible.

Now, you were here, finally triumphant after laboring intensely to tie the knots correctly and make the lattice fit comfortably on your body.  With fifteen minutes left, you busied yourself by doing a very cursory clean of the apartment before getting out a glass and opening up the wine.

This was where you made a mistake, however.  You had never been very good at patience or waiting around when you knew something was about to happen.  You were restless and fidgety by nature, and you would inevitably look for anything to occupy yourself with.  In this instance, that meant turning on some tunes with your mini speaker and dancing around the kitchen while you waited for Lilith to get home.  As a result, you didn’t actually hear her when she came in, and you only realized she was there when she put a hand on your arm out of nowhere while you were pouring the wine into her glass.

“Shit!” You yelped, spinning around without thinking, the mostly full glass still clutched in your hand.  You managed to avoid barreling right into her, but there was nothing you could do to stop the ruby-colored liquid from splashing out of its container and directly onto the front of her work suit.  “Babe, I… shit, you startled me!”

Lilith was silent, looking down at the wet mess you’ve just made of her clothes.  You saw her jaw tense, watched it tick to the side a bit as if she was grinding her teeth.  And then, she sighed sharply.  “Ava.”  She pressed her lips together in a tight line, looking like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it.  “No, it’s fine.”  She straightened up and started shrugging off her coat with stiff shoulders.

“Babe?” You asked tentatively, setting the treacherous glass on the table and taking a careful step toward her.  “I’m sorry…  I didn’t hear you come in.”

She nodded shortly.  “It’s fine, Ava.  The fabric is dark, it’ll wash out.”  The very obvious tension in her frame told you it was not, in fact, fine, but you were at a loss for what to do about it.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, watching her mouth twist angrily at the question.  “I-I mean, how was work?”

“Shit, like always,” she growled, grabbing the buttons of her blouse to undo it with rough movements.  You stayed where you were, not touching her just yet when she was so clearly upset and trying to contain it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she bit out, and then stopped.  She finished unbuttoning her shirt and let her hands drop loosely to her side, all while shutting her eyes tight and taking several deep breaths.  You waited, letting her regain herself the way she preferred to.  When she opened her eyes again, she looked calmer, but her attention dropped down to you; or rather, your shirt.  “There’s some on you,” she said, reaching out and ghosting her fingers over a spot on your abdomen.

You looked down and realized she was right.  While it wasn’t the theme park splash zone you’d just made of her clothes, there was still a decently-sized stain there.  “Crap,” you hissed and, without thinking, pulled up your shirt to get a better look at it, oblivious to Lilith’s eyes watching you like a hawk.  “This stuff comes out with peroxide, right?  Aren’t you supposed to mix it with the detergent—?”

“What’s that?”  You looked back up at her, only to find her eyes locked on your belly.  Oh.

“Oh, uh…”  Blushing hard, you tried to shove your shirt back in place.  “Uh, it’s nothing.”  Your efforts were thwarted, however, by her hands shooting out and catching yours before you could re-hide what you had inadvertently revealed.  Biting your lip, you let go, allowing her to lift your shirt back up again, baring the lower half of the ribbon tie to her inspection.  She just stared at it.  You could see her eyes following the many criss-crossing lines, seeing how they framed your stomach, stretched around to your back, and climbed further up your chest where the shirt still concealed them.

She was completely fixated.  You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, only that the gears of her brain were spinning like crazy.  You decided to just come clean, as clearly there would be no salvaging your initial plan of action.  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” you explained lamely.  “I was going to show you after my stream, but uh, well…” You smiled sheepishly at her, rubbing the back of your neck.  “Surprise?”

Lilith looked back up at you but didn’t say anything for a long moment.  Her fingers twitched against your waist, the pads pressing into your ribs.  Her eyes slowly dropped again, tracing a path back down to your belly that you swore you could feel like a laser on your skin.  With one hand holding you in place, she ran her middle and index fingers along the length of the deep blue silk, following the groove of it up your body and stopping just below where your shirt had ridden up.  She looked up again, wordlessly asking for permission.  When you nodded, licking your lips, she delicately lifted your t-shirt up over your breasts.

“This is for me?” She asked, voice quiet and accented with awe.  She caressed the elaborate lattice with her fingertips, so lightly that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching her every move.  She touched the knot at the center of your chest and pressed it against your sternum, provoking a shiver from you that had you leaning forward into her hand.  Her eyes were on yours again, and they were full of dark fire, raging with an entirely different emotion from the one she started with.  She covered the knot with her open palm while she used her other arm to pull you in close.  “You said you have a stream tonight?”

Lilith’s voice was painfully sexy in normal circumstances, but the raw desire in her tone was enough to make your knees shake.  “Y-yeah.  It’s not long, just a couple hours.  I… I could cancel.  It’s not a big deal.”  Please tell me to cancel, please tell me to cancel, please, please, please…

The corners of her mouth quirked into a crooked smile while you watched with captive fascination.  “I have a better idea,” she said, pressing that crooked mouth right up against your ear.  What she whispered to you then, hot and hungry and smug, made you flush pink from head to toe.  “Yes, Aves?”  She asked, smirking against your cheek, already knowing what answer you would give.

“Yes,” you whimpered.  “Yes, please.”

“Good girl,” she purred, stroking the ribbons again, making you whine.   She took a small amount of pity on you and pulled you in for a kiss.  It was slow and wanton and sweet, paradoxically letting you regain your composure while making you dizzy all over again.  When you broke apart, she said, “I need to get changed, and you need to get ready for your viewers.”  She pulled your shirt back down and rearranged it so the ribbons were fully hidden once again.  It was an oddly gentlemanly move, given the situation, but that’s just how Lilith was.  She pecked you once on the forehead before retreating to the bedroom, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen with a half-spilled glass of wine, a stained shirt, and panties you would definitely be throwing out by night’s end.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

“Yo-yo-yo, what’s up, nerds?  It’s ya girl Ava back again with Elden Ring!”  Jesus Christ, why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?   Stupid, horny brain.  Stupid, beautiful girlfriend.  “And guess what, peeps, we’ve got company tonight.  Chat, say hi to Lilith!  Lilith, say hi to Chat!”  Lilith was a solid presence against your back.  She was sitting in your gamer chair like she belonged there, lounging on it with you in her lap, held there securely by a single strong arm.

“Hello, chat persons,” she greeted coolly.  Immediately you saw the chat explode with excited messages, a mix of greetings and exclamations.  Your long-time fans greeted her with familiarity and spammed the feed with bat emojis, while your newer fans sent swarms of questions which were all some variation of “Whoa, is that your girlfriend????  She’s so hot!!!! 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀” or “You have a girlfriend??? Lmaoooooooo, no way, loser 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡”.  You could practically feel her smirking at these comments while the game’s menu theme started to play.  Her fingers skated evilly along the hem of your freshly chosen shirt, pausing occasionally to tug on the ribbons until they snapped lightly against your stomach.  You tried to distract yourself from this by bantering with chat, but there was nothing in the world strong enough to divert your attention from what was going on between your legs.

Because what the chat couldn’t see, what you had carefully positioned the camera to conceal, was your lower half.  More specifically, the apex of your thighs, where you were being stretched open by Lilith’s dick, practically staked on it while you soaked her boxers with your arousal.  Evil girlfriend.  Evil.  It was one of your biggest ones too, indigo blue and thick as all hell.  It didn’t see much use compared to some of your others, but when Lilith sauntered out of the bedroom holding it while looking at you like a mouse she wanted to devour, how were you supposed to say no?

The fullness was so much, too much.  You were struggling just to form complex thoughts let alone competently play a video game.  You had no idea how you were going to manage Elden Ring’s difficulty while also refraining from fucking yourself to completion in front of hundreds of people.

You did your best, practicing deep breathing exercises to keep your body relaxed while you loaded up your save and responded to messages.  Your Tarnished stood up from the Site of Grace you paused at last time, deep in the Altus Plateau, and you milled about checking your inventory for a minute while Lilith rubbed idle circles beneath your belly button.  Her muscular thighs were spread wide, keeping your legs open, and you had to make a conscious effort not to glance repeatedly at where your slickness was dribbling down between them.  At your insistence, there was a towel there to contain the mess (because you paid good money for this chair and you were not about to ruin it) but you knew that if you looked, it would only make things worse.

In the interest of self-preservation, you tasked Lilith with keeping an eye on the chat while you played.  It wasn’t much of a defense, as your girlfriend was unfortunately a very good multitasker, but it was better than letting her have total free reign to torment you as she pleased.  If only your own body would behave itself too, you might just get through this stream without incident.

You summoned Torrent and set off in the direction of Volcano Manor, intent on starting the dungeon there and taking on the Godskin Noble and possibly Rykard if you got far enough.  Along the way, you also figured you would try to take out the Ulcerated Tree Spirit on Mt. Gelmir to level up a bit.  This was where the problems started to occur, because Ulcerated Tree Spirits were a shitfucking, goddamn, bitch and a half to fight when you didn’t have a massive sex toy sitting in your cunt, and now that you did, well…  To say that your performance was lacking was a bit of an understatement.  By your third death, Lilith didn’t feel like holding her tongue anymore, and chose instead to mercilessly tease you.

“I see now why you’ve been cursing so much recently,” she gently mocked, earning a flurry of agreement and 💯💯💯💯💯 from the chat.  Then, when she snapped the ribbon against your skin and made you miss a very easy charged attack, she asked, “Why do you insist on using such a large weapon?  Wouldn’t it be safer to fight from range?”

“Well, duh, it would be safer,” you snarked back.  “But you’re not supposed to play these games safe.  You’re supposed to get the biggest weapon you can find and swing it at them until they’re dead or you’re dead.”

“I see.”  After two more failed attempts, you finally managed to kill the bastard, taking your runes immediately to the nearest Site of Grace to put them to use.  While you argued with chat about the merits of Strength/Faith vs. Dex/Int builds (Strength/Faith was superior, obviously), Lilith must have decided that things were too peaceful, because she chose that very moment to start rubbing her middle finger along the side of your clit.  You bit your cheek nearly hard enough to bleed to stop your treatise on greatshields from ending with a comically loud gasp.  She didn’t let up, stroking slow, torturous circles against you and occasionally dipping down to playfully frame the space where your pussy and her cock met.  She kept doing this, heedless of your fingers leaving nail marks on her knee, all while the towel beneath the both of you developed an increasingly large, dark stain.

Only when you were on the verge of insanity, bucking into her touch and riding Torrent into the stomp attack of a troll, did she show you mercy.  She withdrew her hand and wrapped both arms around you to still your canting hips, all while she rested her chin on your shoulder.

The chat was bumping, but even with the high traffic, you still managed to catch messages now and then saying stuff like “You guys are so cute 😍😍😍” and sometimes more nerve-wracking things like “Why does Lilith look like a dragon hoarding treasure? 🤔🐉”.  You did your best to ignore them and the warmth of your girlfriend’s body as you pushed on and finally made it to the start of the Volcano Manor dungeon.  You didn’t think you would get to Rykard or the Godskin Noble today, but you wanted to at least make significant progress in the dungeon before calling it a night, so that’s what you set out to do for the rest of the stream.

After two hours of playing (two hours of torture) consisting mostly of you fucking up and getting lovingly owned in chat for it, you wound the stream down and said goodbye to your viewers.  Lilith even offered them a stoic and detached good night, prompting a flood of “Good Night, Lilith!!!! 🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌” messages in response.  And she waited patiently for you to close everything up before speaking again.

“Is your camera completely off?” She asked, while her nails teased the skin of your ribcage over your shirt.  You bit your lip hard and nodded, even going through the motions of double checking that all of your recording equipment was shut off while she watched.  “Good.”

She moved without warning, shifting forward until both her feet were planted on the floor and then pushing you both up off the chair with nothing but her legs.  You yelped in surprise as you unexpectedly fell forward, catching yourself on the desk while your pussy convulsed around her huge dick.  She caught you by the hips to steady you, rubbing soothing circles into them and humming apologetically for the sudden change of position.  

“Alright, Aves?” She asked, leaning forward to brace herself over your back.  You nodded, but then whined pathetically when she tested your honesty with a push of her hips.  “Use your words.”

“Mm, I-I’m good,” you managed to stammer.  “You just surprised me.”

She hummed again.  “One good surprise deserves another, don’t you think?”  As she spoke, her hands slipped under your shirt and tangled themselves in lines of silk.

“I can take my shirt off,” you offered, trying not to shiver too much at the feeling.

In the dark reflection of your computer screen, you saw Lilith shake her head.  “No, this is good.”

She clearly had you exactly where she wanted you, but you tried to regain a little bit of the upper hand with a joke.  “You know, the point was for you to unwrap them.”  All you get in response is a firm smack on the ass.

“You’re my present, aren’t you?”  Her tone was imperious.  “I’ll unwrap you when I like.  Right now I want you like this.”  One of her hands traced a searing path over your ribs and onto your back.  She picked a spot between your shoulder blades where the lines of ribbon crossed and dug her fingers in there, taking such a firm hold that the silk was pulled taut against your tits.  Her other hand landed on your ass again, possessively palming the pink spot where she smacked you.

“Do you think any of your fans guessed what we were doing?”  She prompted, pressing her hips flush against you so the toy was buried up to the hilt.  “Do you think they realized what a little slut their idol is?”

“Y… your slut,” you moaned, pushing your ass back on her.  In the reflection, you could see the look of delight that took over her features.

“Mmhm, my slut,” she agreed, slowly pulling herself out of your cunt until only the tip lingered inside you.  Just as slowly, she pushed back in, ending the thrust with a burst of extra force that made you whine.  She did it again, using her grip on your back like a harness to pull you down onto her cock.  “When did you come up with this idea?”  You didn’t immediately respond, too caught in the maelstrom of sensations, and her free hand smacked you again.  “Answer me, Ava.”

“Ten days ago,” you whimpered, unashamed by the way you arched into her commanding touch.

“Ten days?”  She sounded genuinely surprised, even a little confused.  “How did you know I would be free?”

“I looked at your work calendar while you were gone,” you admitted.  “You didn’t have any extra meetings scheduled tonight, and I kept checking it to be sure.”

“Sneaky girl."  She started moving at a slow, teasing pace, carefully coaxing your muscles to adjust to the girth of the strap.  “Is that why you planned your stream this early?”

You nod.  “So we could, mmf, so we could have the night together.”  You ducked your head down so she wouldn’t see your face flush.  “That’s why I got the wine.”

“I was curious about that,” she said.  “You don’t like red.”  Her free hand was back to petting your hip while she maintained her hold on you from above.

“It’s, fuck, it’s not that I don’t,” you protested.  “It’s just not my favorite.  I can barely drink as it is, so I have to be picky.”  Because polyneuropathy is a fucking bitch.

She hummed again, thoughtfully.  “And how long did it take to learn how to do this?”  She asked, indicating the ribbons by yanking on them again.

“Four hours,” you admitted, the words trailing off into a whimper as your whole body was rocked against the desk by a powerful thrust.  You probably should have moved the towel to the floor, because you were positive that you were starting to drip onto the hardwood.

“All that just for me?”  The quiet awe from before was back.

You nodded fervently.  “All for you.”  Then, because the air felt a little bit too heavy, you added, “The knots were hard as shit to learn.”

She cooed sympathetically, but you could see her smirk turn devilish.  “Then it’s good you’ll be getting plenty of practice now.”

You shivered, a flurry of images from the tutorial videos swirling around your head like cartoon stars.  “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” she purred.  “You went to all this effort.  It would be a shame to let your new skills go to waste.”  Her hips started pushing harder, increasing their speed by mere degrees but burying her cock inside you with new intensity.  “You’ll wear it under your clothes again,” she told you, commanding you more like.  “You’ll be tied up all pretty while you entertain those enthusiastic little cretins on your livestream.”  Her free hand traveled up your body to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up until you were staring into the blank computer screen.  “They’ll watch you for hours, and never suspect a thing.  And the entire time, you’ll be thinking about me, and about this.”

You keened, shaking under her hands while she fucked you deep and hard.  “I always am,” you panted.  “Thinking about you.”

“Sweet girl,” she crooned.  “My perfect little slut.”  Her words ended on a rough grunt as she started grinding against your ass, revealing how affected she truly was by all this.  “I love fucking you this way.  Why didn’t we think of this before?”  She let your hair go so her hand could drop onto the desk on top of yours.  She twined your fingers together as she braced herself above your back.  She started moving faster, her other hand moving from your back to one of your tits, long fingers tugging harshly at your nipple.  The sounds of sex were becoming overpowering, echoing off the walls and making you extremely grateful that this apartment complex actually gave a shit about their wall insulation.  “You’re so wet, Aves.  Two hours I spent feeling you soak my lap, and somehow there’s still more?”

“Your fault,” you pointed out breathlessly.  “You wouldn’t stop teasing me.”

“You liked it.”

“My Tarnished didn’t like it.”

“What’s that term you're so fond of?  Sounds like a ‘skill issue’?”  She mocked, grinning right against your ear.  You huffed, craning your neck to the side so you could shut her up by shoving your tongue down her throat.  She allowed this, but retaliated smoothly by sliding her fingers back down to your clit.  You were unable to keep the kiss going after that, breaking off with another helpless gasp.  If she wasn’t actively turning your brain to mush, you would feel aggrieved at how effortlessly she played with your body and how easily you bent to her whims.  As it was, however, your brain was thoroughly mush-ified, and thus it had other priorities.

“Fuck, baby, please,” you begged, shutting your eyes tight while your face burned.

“Please?  Please what?”  Instead of doing the kind and reasonable thing of just giving you what you very obviously wanted, she did the opposite.  She slowed everything down to a standstill, holding herself stationary in your cunt, and when you wiggled around frantically to get more friction, she pulled you upright and wrapped both arms around you to cage you in place.

“Lilith…”  You whined petulantly, arching back against her and feeling the sweat on your skin soak into your shirt.

“Ava, be a good girl,” she chided firmly, pinching your nipple between her thumb and index finger over the damp fabric.  "What are you begging me for?"

“I’m so close, baby, please let me cum,” you pleaded, leaning your head back on her shoulder, baring your throat to her.

“You want to cum?”  You nodded wildly.  “I suppose I’ll allow that.  But you’ll do it the way I want you to.”  Without another word, she let you go, carefully pulling out of your pussy and backing away.  You were left standing alone, the cool air of the room raising goosebumps across your body in the absence of her warmth.  When you turned around, you found her sitting in your chair again, lounging in it just as she had before.

“Up,” she said, patting her lap and grinning.  “Facing me this time.”  You obeyed, stumbling forward on jelly legs and profusely thanking your past self for getting a gaming chair that 1) didn’t have wheels and 2) was wide enough for you to do this comfortably.  Lilith was kind enough to help you get into position, holding your waist steady while you carefully dropped back down on the strap.

While you were busy adjusting to the stretch again, her hands gripped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up over your head, tossing it into the same pile with your ruined panties.  Finally, you were naked before her, fully open to her appraisal.  And what an appraisal it was.  “Beautiful,” she whispered, tracing her fingers over the knots again.  She was still wearing her black undershirt, creating a sharp contrast between your two states.  It honestly made you feel a little vulnerable, being held open and on display while she was still partially clothed.  But the hunger in her eyes was gentle now, the hard edges of frustration and stress worn away.  As if sensing that whisper of anxiety, however, she was quick to reassure you.  “I’ve got you, love.  It’s okay.  Take what you need.”

You did exactly that.  You started out slow again, wrapping your arms around her shoulders to anchor yourself.  She buried her face into your neck, lavishing it with wet, heavy kisses.  She licked and nipped her way down your collarbone before taking the same nipple she had mercilessly teased between her teeth, sucking and biting it until the noises coming out of you could test even this building’s level of soundproofing.

The intensity kept ramping up and up.  You picked up speed until you were wildly riding her, and she grabbed the silk ties again to pull you down onto her with increasing force.  You could feel the pressure in your gut building to its breaking point, and knew from the way her breathing stuttered that she was getting there too.

“Fuck, that’s good, Aves, you’re riding me so well,” she growled.  “You can come when you’re ready.  I’ll be right behind you.”

As if flipping a switch, it seemed like her permission was all you needed.  You took the whole of the strap inside you and started to grind in her lap, all lucid thought fading away in your frantic search for completion.  “Baby, baby, it’s happening!  I’m—!”  You came with a long, tremulous cry, collapsing against her limply while she took over with her hips, using her powerful core and legs to drive up into you with near bruising force.  She grabbed your hips hard to hold them steady and buried her teeth in your shoulder, keeping you in place so expertly that no rope or ribbon ties could ever compare.

She came a minute later with a rough, deep groan that sent vibrations through your whole body.  Gathering you close, she released your shoulder and started covering the bite mark with open-mouthed kisses.  You were both breathing hard, your chests brushing together with the force of your pants.

“That was amazing,” she said, pressing her lips to every inch of your shoulder and neck that she could reach.  “My love, you did so well.”

“I did?” You asked, cringing just a bit at how small your voice sounded.

“Mmhm,” she murmured, petting your sweaty hair.  “You were so good for me.  You’re so good to me.  I didn’t…” She sighed.  “I didn’t expect this at all.  Thank you, for all of it.”

Her words made your chest feel curiously tight.  You buried your face in her hair to stifle this.  “I wanted to do something for you.  You’ve been so unhappy.”

She stilled, completely caught off-guard.  “I’m not unhappy,” she protested softly.

“I thought work—”

She shook her head.  “My work is frustrating, annoying more than anything.  The idiocy and rail-roading I’m expected to put up with every day is maddening.  But I’m accustomed to it.”

“It stresses you out, and makes you angry.”

“Because of you.”

“Me?”

“Mmhm,” she confirmed.  Her free hand began to trace circles in one of the gaps created by the ribbons.  “Because it keeps me away from you.  This past month has been so hard.”  You knew that, of course, but you waited quietly for her to continue.  “Before you, I never thought much of the hours I worked.  It was the job, and I was used to it.  I didn’t have anything at home for me to miss, apart from the occasional book.  But now I have you, and I miss you terribly, all the time.  Your clumsiness and your stupid jokes and your clutter.  Your laugh.  Your smile.  I miss the warmth when you’re not with me.  I was… very cold before you came to me, and I didn’t realize it.  Does that make sense?”

You nodded.  It did make sense.  You felt the same way.  Before her, your life was fine.  You had your cramped apartment, your job at the bar, the occasional hookup, and your little streaming channel.  It was barely anything, but you thought it was enough.  Until you met her, that is, and you realized that you could do better, could ask more from life than just subsisting on scraps.  You wouldn’t describe your life before as cold, but you would say it was small, too small to be what you really wanted.  But now it was big, in so many ways.  And most of it was because of her.

“I’m thinking about making some changes,” she continued.  “It can’t happen right away, but I’m going to try.  I’m pushing to become a partner in the firm.”

“Are you?”  You knew that would be a serious deal if she managed it.  Yes, she was one of the best and most sought after lawyers in the city, but it was another level to become a named partner in a firm.  “Obviously, you’ll get it.  They’d be idiots not to promote you.”

“I hope so,” she murmured.  “Until then, things will continue to be difficult.  I don’t want it to damage what we have.”

“It won’t.”  You pressed your lips into her raven hair.  “I know things are going to suck.  They’ve been sucking.  But I’m still here, Lil.  Everyday you come home, I’ll be here.  Promise.”

“I love you,” she whispered, pulling you back to look into your eyes.  “You know that, don’t you?”

You beamed.  “Of course I do.  I love you too.”  You kissed her then, curled up in her arms in your gaming chair.

So what if your surprise didn’t go according to plan?  This was the best outcome you could’ve asked for and more.

#warrior nun #ava silva #sister lilith #ava x lilith #avalil #my writing #twitch au #gamer au

[bosskie]

Anatomy, Bones 'n' Sentimentality

I been sketching some Molluck stuff but haven't posted them because been too busy or depressed for such since well, I just didn't know if these are worth posting but here they are. I'm also feeling better now, so better time for posting in this sense too.

These are from newest to oldest, so yeah, the first one, above, was just me trying to figure out Molluck's anatomy, yet again. There ain't just enough reference material for me to see his anatomy clearly... My sculpt isn't detailed enough to help me with some stuff, so gotta sculpt a more detailed model/sculpt, in 3D or from some clay.

And yeah, speaking of anatomy, I wanted to try to draw Molluck's skull but since I ended up drawing it in the middle of paper, I drew some more bones to him. Yes, not everything here is his bones but I just felt like adding his brain and the structure holding it in place but also his ears. I'm not an anatomy specialist but I believe that his 'brain cage' consists of muscles and flexible tissue, and other stuff like that. I have wanted to draw his skull for a long time, like maybe even for two years, and now I did it! I also had an idea of drawing his facial muscles but frankly, I feel like I need to learn more about anatomy before doing that...

Oh, and yeah, his skeleton somehow reminded me of that cartoony electric shock effect, so I ended up drawing him getting hit by lightning... I don't know if it would have looked more brutal if they did such an effect in AO/NnT... At least we could have seen his actual skeleton! Maybe I draw his full skeleton one day. I'm not sure of how his teeth actually go, just cannot see them clearly enough, like how many molar teeth he got but about 4 pairs of them, both up and down. I personally love his teeth and enjoy drawing them!

I have also said that I love Molluck's hands, so yeah, wanted to figure out his hand anatomy better. Looking at that reaching hand of his just makes me wanna grab his hand and hold it... Yeah, he got big hands compared to mine, though I'm not completely sure about the size difference but I bet that they are somewhat this big. His hands kinda look like feet too but hey, he walks on them! I took some reference/help/inspiration from some primate hands to figure out his palm since cannot see it well from the material I got...

I don't know if you find Molluck intimidating/scary, at least my mother has said that Molluck looks scary, and some other people... But I just somehow cannot get that vibe from him... Maybe if he was next to me since he is a head taller than me and his head is, well, big... But I don't know, he is so adorable and beautiful! Well, this is just how I see him... I have seen some people seeing him smiling being scary... But I only love to see him smiling!

Oh, and I have been reading some comments on Molluck stuff recently and found out that yeah, there do are people who would find me crazy because of my Molluck love, since one person's friends told them that they are crazy for thinking that Molluck is sexy... Actually, I must be insane in their opinion! Well, I don't care, just having fun. And I just cannot help that this Gluk has 'stolen' my heart... Locked tight to his vault! Just joking, I 'stole' his too.

But yeah, like I said, I'm starting to feel better now. If I just keep telling myself that I'll be nothing, well, I'll be nothing since I won't even try in that case... So, now I do see reasons to fight again or at least something pushes me to keep going. I still feel like I got a long road to get my stuff looking something 'professional' but I wanna keep going, try to achieve that level. Still don't know when I feel like I have achieved it since well, I don't personally see me having any special 'artistic talent', even I have heard since a childhood much compliments about my art and been even rewarded for my art; my art teacher in junior high school and high school (same person) really liked my stuff too and she rewarded me in both places when I was graduating. But still, I don't know why it's so difficult to see what the others see in my art... I don't even really like to call my stuff 'art' but creations but I guess that it relates my self-hatred since I don't really feel like my stuff is art... Well, I guess that this is something common among artists, not able to see own skills etc. Sometimes, I just feel like I cannot draw, like when I was drawing that first sketch, but I still just keep drawing until it looks alright. Man, art requires understanding a lot of things...

#molluck #oddworld molluck #molluck the glukkon #oddworld #art like a bosskie

[smallpapers]

What do you think will happen between Hunter and Willow in the first special?

Heya anon! Great question!! I hope they at least talk!!!

jkjk. I think there'll be a grimwalker revelation scene (hopefully just between the two of them). Some sort of wittewife-caleb parallels too. I can't say that I'm expecting them to become 'canon' AKA confession/ get together in the first episode though, maybe in ep3 if we are lucky. However, I'll be happy to be proven wrong. But we're definitely going to get a few blushes. So far huntlow has taken a show-don't-tell approach with all the crumbs, and i don't expect the S3 eps to be any different.

Oh and Hunter is going to tell WIllow that she inspires him. I'm betting all my bones on it. If I'm wrong you all are allowed to bully me.

But what I'm really hoping for is at least a few one-on-one conversations. They haven't talked to each other on screen since ASiaS, and the blurry "Willow, are you ok?" in KT does not count :)

#my discord party moots will understand my salt #LETHUNTLOWTALKINS3 #huntlow #asks #anon #thank u for asking about my huntlow thoughts because those are the only thoughts i have

[dearwriters]

Hi, Can I ask for some advice? Ok. I am a fanfic writer, but I want to start writing original fiction however I have three problems when it comes to that

1. I really like the tropes the author plays and I have ideas they could play differently But I always am afraid Of being accused of copyright because the overall idea the author has I love. But I would tweak a few things or many things but not the overall concept like for example this series the folk of the air I love the idea of a power struggle between fae and a mortal girl raised in the faerie world and Eventually becoming their queen and being enemies to lovers with a happy ending to their king. I’m afraid of being copyrighted with that

2. I really can’t see the characters with anything but similar names There could be changes like Jude Duarte could be Judith Durante a Filipina variant and she’s Filipina but I always like the name similarities. I do however would change a few family dynamics

3. It’s the characters personality I may change a few things But I always write it to how I see them

4. Basically I have ideas of scenarios and interpretation of AUs or canon divergence that could have been different in the novels but I feel if No one else writes it in the fanfic world the idea will disappear forever.

5. I’m afraid of not getting anyone to read it

Do you have any suggestions to over come them?

Turning Fanfic into Original Fiction? Inspiration vs. Plagiarism

So here's the thing: I tend to say "nothing is original". We as humans have been telling stories since our inception and when it comes down to it there are only a handfull of stories always told and retold in many different ways. In our quest to be original we often loose what was once special to our stories. For example: the Romance. "People falling in love" is like the number one plot ever. But we still write and read these stories. Because it's about the specific way these specific people fall in love.

Of course when it comes to inspiration, there is a point at which it can turn into plagiarism. Which of course we always want to avoid. And there's more to it that the blatant type of plagiarism that just copys the written words. Idea plagiarism is a thing but it can become quite tricky in art and depends on things like established genre conventions (like tropes that can be seen time and time again) and amount of overlap.

Another example: "Chosen one discovers new magical world they now have to protect from evil forces". A tale quite literally as old as time. Could apply to basically any YA story published in the 2010s. Are they all plagiarized? No. They just follow the same genre convention.

Now to your specific example.

1. Let's say the base concept of this story is: "an outsider living in a world that oppresses them, just to rise to the occasion and come out on top". That's a very basic concept and a story often seen. Making the outsider a human and the setting the fae world is the flavour given to it. The setting of a fae world, dangerous to humans is nothing new either. "Enemies to lovers" is a very common romantic trope, that can also be read in many stories. What you are describing here are merely the bones of the story. The question is how you will flesh them out. And as a writer of original fiction, it will be your responsibility to find your own style and voice, your unique point of view and special ideas, to make a base concept your own. Every idea always starts out with the basics and then evolves as you work on it. Ask yourself: What in this base concept is specifically interesting to you?

2. Now with the names is where things get dicey. I'm sorry to tell you this, but turning "Duarte" into "Durante" will raise at least some eyebrows. Combining barely changed names with a similar base concept will invite scrutiny. I'd advise you to think a bit about why you would like to keep the names this similar. It also doesn't really sound like you want to change up the cast of characters that much, besides some family dynamics. Wouldn't it be a disservice to your own characters? You have your own ideas and I am sure they would be just as great as your inspiration. You just have to allow yourself to work with your own creativity. I'm sure it would turn out even better!

3. Having different characters is great! I would just like to invite you to stop thinking about it as "changing" things. If this is supposed to be your original work, it's not enough to take an already existing work and "change" it. You have to build your characters, your world and your story from the ground up. This may just be a question of mindset! Yes, take inspiration wherever you want, but then let it go and do your own thing.

4. If it's specifically AUs and canon divergence of this work is fun to you, why not just write fanfic? Approaching it as an original work may do a disservice to what you are actually trying to do here.

5. Readership will find you, depending on what you intend to do with your work.

I hope this helped a bit. Have fun writing!

#dearwriters #writing advice #writing help #writing tips #novel writing #writblr

[ofstoriesandstardust]

in the works

peak behind the smoke screen into what’s to come...

last updated 03/24/24

Law and Order: Special Victims Unit

The Choices We Make

next chapter: the small moments

summary: All the moments where Allison and Diego think Elena might not be as bad as they originally thought. Or really, bad at all.

Sonny Carisi

ficmas day 10 - fairytale of new york

summary: Stuck working on Christmas Eve, Sonny reminisces on his first Christmas with you (and the many more to come).

Top Gun: Maverick

Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

and bound her in her bones

summary: Yo ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die.

The night sky was dark and stormy when the princess slipped into the sea, never to return.

The night sky was dark and stormy when another pirate arose from the sea, making herself forever known.

Don’t be mistaken.  

This story does not have a happy ending.

Lt. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

in my veins

summary: Rebel has a nightmare, making her question what’s real. 

superbloom 

summary: Bradley takes Sunshine to see the flowers that remind him so much of her

paint the sky

summary: In search of an adrenaline rush after she leaves the Navy, worlds collide when Rebel finds herself back in a hospital bed. (crossover with The Rookie)

car’s outside 

summary: Bradley lets Sunshine know just how much he doesn’t want her to leave again

the trials and tribulations of marriage

summary: Bradley surprises Sunshine after she gets her wisdom teeth taken out. 

i hear your s-o-s

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) A routine water survival training goes wrong.

flight risk

next chapter: chapter 9.5 - golden hour

summary: The Boston days. 

how do i tell you?

summary: The beginning of Sunshine and Bradley’s friendship. 

operation: boyfriend

summary: As Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend, you have long since resigned yourself to be just that: a friend. He doesn’t see you the way you see him. That’s all you’ll ever be: friends.

So, when Rooster takes on the mission of finding you a boyfriend, you let him. This is your friend, who just wants the best for you. Just wants you to be happy.

As date after date fails, you don’t have the heart to tell him that the reason they all fail is because everyone isn’t him.

everything that led to this 

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) The moments that led up to Rooster’s proposal.

and by morning, gone was any trace of you

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) You never thought you’d be clean of what happened, until you were. 

-

Or: A glimpse into Rebel’s healing. 

inspired by taylor swift’s “clean”

second chance pt. ii

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) The long-awaited Rebster wedding.

hold my girl

summary: You’re not injured. There’s nothing wrong, your head just kind of hurts. It’s not like loud noises or headphones or bright lights are making it worse or anything, it just doesn’t help. And you and Rooster very much aren’t dating or a thing or even close friends, so there’s no reason he should care all that much or be as worried as he is now. 

the lost moments

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) The unseen moments from “the in-between”

fat funny friend

summary: As your relationship with Rooster grows, so do your insecurities. 

an unofficial pt. ii to if only

inspired by maddie zahm’s “fat funny friend”

my heart is wherever you are

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) The five times Rooster visited his parents grave alone and the one time he went with someone.

and i don’t mind if it’s me you need to turn to

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) 5 times rebel does something for one of the daggers and the one time they do something for her

hiding in the shadows - Rooster

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) Rooster has a nightmare. Rebel’s phone is dead, but he doesn’t know that. Cue a panicked Rooster climbing through her window.

take your time

summary: You have no interest in dating a Navy man, but the pretty brunette at the bar doesn’t want your forever, just your time.

in case you don’t live forever

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) The goodbye Rebel didn’t get to have.

the great war

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) The night she nearly lost him.

ficmas day 12 - have yourself a merry little christmas - Rebel and Rooster

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) Their first Christmas as fiancé's, Rebel and Rooster reflect on Christmases past. 

mine

summary: (part of same mistakes-verse) “you made a rebel of careless man’s careful daughter”

a look back at Rebel and Rooster’s relationship 

inspired by taylor swift’s “mine”

the archer

summary: (Kazansky!reader) despite the odds, you and Rooster find a love meant to last

inspired by Taylor Swift’s “The Archer”

the aftermath

summary: Rooster isn’t sure he can handle any more loss. the universe doesn’t give him a choice. 

so this is how it ends

summary: “so this is how it ends, not with a bang but a whimper” 

despite your complicated history, Bradley doesn’t want to think of what it would be like to lose you. a routine training exercise gone horrifically wrong forces him to experience something he never thought he would. 

jessie’s girl

summary: Rooster has his eyes set on you, and only you. small problem. you’re Hangman’s girl. 

inspired by “jessie’s girl” by rick springfield

storm warning

next part: but i’ve found that time can heal most anything

summary: Jake’s sister makes a life-changing decision. 

deja vu

summary: (part of my SOUR series) “Do you think he gets deja vu, being with her?”

mirrorball

Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin

second star to the right and straight on til morning

next part: peter pan 

summary: You must reckon with what Bradley’s told you. 

take a look at what you’ve done

look after you

summary: After getting your wisdom teeth taken out, you turn to Jake to lean on.

bragger

summary: You’re jealous, what can you say?

maroon pt. iii

house of gold

next part: touch

bloodline

summary: Jake confronts his bloodline.

slipping through your fingers

summary: Jake’s there on the anniversary of your mother’s death.

heart like yours

summary: Bradley and Jake don’t see eye to eye when it comes to you.

human

summary: You’re only human.  

good 4 u

summary: (part of my SOUR series) It seems like Jake Seresin’s life has moved on quite fine without you in it. Good for him.

ficmas day 9 - you’re a mean one mr. grinch

summary: With a heart two sizes two small, it’s safe to say Jake Seresin hates Christmas. He thinks he’ll always be a Scrooge like that, until he meets you, when his heart grows three sizes more. 

ghost town

next part: run in the shadows (damn your love, damn your lie)

summary: On the run, Hangman learns more about his companion and what brought her to the life she’s living. Carolina finds it’s harder to shake her roots than she thought. After a close call, Hangman realizes he holds Carolina’s life in his hands, but that she hold his heart within her own.

love in the dark

summary: You love Jake, but you can’t love him from the shadows

jessie’s girl

summary: Rooster has his eyes set on you, and only you. small problem. you’re Hangman’s girl. 

inspired by “jessie’s girl” by rick springfield

nightmares

summary: Jake’s there after a particularly rough nightmare.

Lt. Javy “Coyote” Machado

you drew stars around my scars

summary: They always swore they’d never fall for each other. It was a fine line they danced, always claiming they were jsut the best of friends. Right up until that line was crossed, became blurry, and a friendship became more.

a rock and a hard place

summary: you find your soulmate in a certain lieutenant. but with a new deployment, you realize you can’t handle everything that comes with being a military wife and you have to make a decision you never wanted to. 

inspired by bailey zimmerman’s “a rock and a hard place”

hope ur okay

summary: (part of my SOUR series but the characters are from same mistakes-verse) Two moments in which Coyote and Rebel show each other true friendship and the one moment they realize they are all the better for their friendship.

The Umbrella Academy

The Choices We Make

next chapter: the small moments

summary: All the moments where Allison and Diego think Elena might not be as bad as they originally thought. Or really, bad at all.

Luther Hargeeves

matilda

summary: Luther didn’t know just what he had gone through until he was free from the Academy. 

inspired by harry styles’ “matilda”

mr. perfectly fine

summary: you’d gotten dropped into the ‘60s with Luther and a beautiful friendship blossomed. you worried everyday about Diego’s safety, just for him to be sleeping with another girl, one who was trying to kill you no less. when you find out, you turn to the only Hargeeves you feel you can trust. 

more than a number

summary: (plus size!reader) sometimes it’s not hard to think of your value and worth as anything more than a number on a scale. your boyfriend, who's no stranger to equating worth to a number, is there to remind you why he’s with you. 

ours

summary: the world didn’t want you together. still, the love you had was special and you wouldn't let it go.

inspired by taylor swift’s “ours”

i’m still here

summary: luther finds himself in life outside the academy, with you by his side of course.

inspired by “I’m still here (jim’s theme)” from treasure planet

smarts

summary: the family remembers just how smart Luther is

Diego Hargreeves

traffic lights

summary: you watched Diego fall out of love with you and with someone else

inspired Sara Kays’ “traffic lights”

backseat rider

summary: he’d been your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. maybe you had some harbored romantic feelings for the man, but you never spoke of them, knowing full well he wouldn’t reciprocate. now you wish you had as you watch yourself slowly become a side character in his life. 

inspired by sara kays’ “backseat rider”

mr. perfectly fine

summary: you’d gotten dropped into the ‘60s with Luther and a beautiful friendship blossomed. you worried everyday about Diego’s safety, just for him to be sleeping with another girl, one who was trying to kill you no less. when you find out, you turn to the only Hargeeves you feel you can trust.

Ben Hargreeves

ghost of you

summary: Ben is nothing more than ghost. you’re left to grieve someone who’s no longer there.

inspired by 5SOS “ghost of you”

let me go

summary: in a dire set of circumstances, ben is forced to make a choice he never thought he would have to. 

inspired by That One Scene from Avengers: Infinity War

#in the works

[dhampiravidi]

older!Jason Todd feelings

apparently I’m having thoughts about my guy today. Who can blame me? 🥰 here's a thing about him & my OC, Jayn, when they're a little bit older...

to start, his FC is Peter Gadiot. (yep, let that sink in.)

ANYWAY--

he's 50-something. when he really thinks about it, he's surprised that he's made it this far. Like all the other vigilantes & Gotham-centric people (including his own partner), he's got his own collection of scars (& foraged Batarangs), but that's to be expected. The usual suspects (Jayn, the old ladies in their* neighborhood, the Bats who were still kicking, and the nighttime escorts) always compliment him on his looks, even if he doesn't think he looks all that special. The Pit has slowed his aging; aside from some deepened smile crinkles at the corner of his eyes and slightly darker skin, he hasn't physically changed in decades. Ah well--there is the bone spur that future asshole!Tim had clued him into (long since removed), the scruff he occasionally lets grow in, and the blue that's slowly returning to his eyes in place of some of the Lazarus-tinted green. He still has the nightmares, and some things (prolonged laughter, horror movies, being surrounded by intense cold) still bother him, but Harley's really helped over the years.

he and Jayn said they'd never get married. They agreed when they were maybe 27 that having an actual wedding would just jinx things. If either of them died too early, the other would resurrect them, and yet...they both preferred to stay on top uninterrupted for a while. So, they had a date night (and day) spent mostly outside Gotham, one which ended with them getting tattoos inspired by Pride and Prejudice: “My heart is and always will be yours,” for her, and "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” for him. Well, that, and then they put their gelato to-go in the fridge before they had a nice round of sleepy sex. Now they've got matching ring tattoos--those were from their 25th not-anniversary last year.

she eventually sets aside her duties as CFO of WayneTech to run the Martha Wayne Foundation. It keeps her busy in a good way. She and Jason publicly live in the Wayne Foundation penthouse, which is close to all the venues used for charity galas and not far from all the places where Jason teaches. Because he wants to help as many as he can, he rotates between being an adjunct at Gotham U, an adjunct at Hudson, a teacher at a big high school (it'd been poor before "the Waynes" donated to it), and an online tutor...all for English and Drama. Jayn limited him to 2 jobs per semester and forbade him from working at Gotham and Hudson simultaneously. Still, she loves listening to his stories about the kids he works with. And they love their teacher, who wears graphic tees and ankle boots with button-ups, and who sometimes brings his pet to class.

the Red Hood isn't seen as often as the other Gotham heroes. Some of them are younger, newer vigilantes who find it comparably easy to fit nightly patrols into their schedules. Sometimes he envies them, missing the feeling of wind combing through his hair as he zips through the sky, or the combination of adrenaline, satisfaction, and relief that comes with saving someone from a creep. Well, he still experiences that stuff, just not as much. First off, the Red Hood is a reserve guy--he only comes out when Frostbite does, which is if shit has officially hit the fan (ex. planetary invasion, No Man's Land Part 2, the regular teams are out of commission, etc.). Then out come the pistols and gear, none of which he's ever thrown away (assuming it still works). Otherwise, he has to stick to riding his motorcycle, sparring with those who know about his past, and going on the occasional international vacation.

they stopped suiting up for patrol a few months before the twins were born. The kids were the result of a few steamy, excited, condom-less nights (some of which also involved getting high). When Jayn got the positive, she and Jason debated all the reasons why they should or shouldn't be parents, including having weird upbringings, living in a dangerous world, and noticing a little gap in their lives that seemed to want kids. Freddie Arwen and Lydia Wayne-Todd looked nothing like each other apart from their light brown skin, but Jason thought his daughters were perfect the moment he saw them. They still are, even though Freddie keeps bleaching the life out of her pretty, dark brown hair and Lydia's cooking typically tastes like stale refried beans. Both left Gotham years ago, but they make sure to visit once a month.

yes, the clown is dead. Yes, Jason was there when they dissolved the body using lye and water. Yes, he was slightly salty, seeing as how it'd taken the Bats forever to kill the creep. In the end, it'd been Ghost-Maker, Bruce's weird (yet impressive, from a crimefighting POV) ex, who'd been in Gotham tracking some illegal shipment. Apparently, Khan had been a good boy, following Bruce's rules until he completed his mission. About a half hour later, Joker was found dead. There was an informal, 2-day celebration all across the city, one where everyone was kind to each other, like a reverse Purge. It would become a holiday, much to Bruce's chagrin. Oh, well.

when Jason turned 30, Alfred finally admitted to the Bats that he'd been part of some experimental Brit super-soldier program, one that had slightly increased his intellect, reflexes, and lifespan. Not many of them were surprised.

#admin #jason todd #dc comics #dc universe #older!jason todd #jlw: headcanon #I just wanted to write a self-indulgent Jason x OC fluff thing

[redbone135]

For the Book Asks!

I; III; IV; VI; VII; IX; XIII; XIV

(Lol I SO did not have to write these on a sticky note first🙊🤣)

Used, borrowed, or new? Honestly, new is my favorite, nice crisp pages and blank clean margins to write all my notes in. But it's less practical - lately I've been doing ARCs and Gifts since it fits with my budget and the kind of book I'm trying to read is really expensive to buy new.

Paperback or hardback? Paperback, always. I know it's very dorky 90s James Dean wannabe, but I've normally got a paperback tucked into my back pocket. I don't like books that aren't pocket sized because they are harder to bring places and I don't like being without a book.

Where do you like to read? Everywhere. Not kidding. This week I have read in my office, in my car, in the park, in bed, at a fancy work event... I always have a book and I'll read everywhere. But I guess my favorite place to read is my leather recliner in front of the fireplace I built, with a cup of something warm and absolute silence in the house.

Old book smell or new book smell? Old book smell makes me sneeze and it kinda itches my throat. I suffer through it because some of my old books have sentimental value to them, but I vastly prefer new book smell.

Favorite series? I don't think anything can replace the Mistborn trilogy in my heart. It's a great series, but it's also taken on some very personal meaning in my life, and so I think that'll always be my favorite.

Book you won't read? I don't have any one specific book I avoid - but I will quit reading anything where a kid dies on page. I've stopped reading only a handful of books in my life and that's always been the reason. It's also not something I will ever do in my own writing - to the point that scenes where kids are hurt in my writing hold no weight to my friends because they know the kid is getting better or I wouldn't write it.

Worst book you've read? Probably one of the ones I've quit for the above reason. Worst book I've finished is rough though. I read a lot of ARCs and Indies which is a total gamble. There have been some pretty bad ones in that batch. I also hold a special hatred for Dune because I think it's way over hyped, and I suffered through the first book to impress a girl, even though it was complete gibberish, and then she wasn't even impressed, just wanted me to read the next one. So yeah - I'll go with Dune is probably my least favorite non-indie book I've read.

First book you remember reading? The Hobbit. My dad read it to me, but I remember it vividly. He did funny voices for the dragon and it just kinda stuck with me and created a life long love of reading - and also reading out loud. It might be the inspiration for my first tattoo - don't tell my mom :) The first book I remember reading on my own? That's harder, I've been reading since I was very littler, so I don't have a ton of memories of starting, and obviously I read picture books and stuff before chapter books, but I think the first chapter books I remember reading, because I got so into them I insisted on reading them to my mom before bed the same way my dad had read to me before he left, was the Charlie Bone series. It was my first introduction to a well plotted and foreshadowed series and I just became obsessed with the writing style.

#ask game #book nerd #also I promise I'm writing back to your message but I got distracted doing this and now I have to shower before an event I have today #But I will write back some time this weekend - I promise!

[wisemins]

The Beach, Palm Tree, Cool Off, and Feathers for Yelena 😊

BIG THANKIES BESTIEEE askin about mah wife huh? PERFECT IM IN THE MOOD TO GUSH ABT HER The beach 🏖️ - When was the last adventure/vacation/mission you went on with your f/o? HMMMM Alright our last little adventure was actually Yelena sneaking me into her place of work during a busy day to take an exclusive look at new BONES in the back. Dinosaur bones. Ones not quite on display yet. My recent liking for dinos had her itching to show off and impress me-- amaze me if you will, so that happened! It was fun, didn't get caught or anything just got to see some cool bones with my wife 😌😌 Palm tree 🌴 - What was the last gift you and your f/o exchanged, and what was the occasion? Yelena got me three very gorgeous rings! A sorta set type of thing-- it's cute, I love it. She likes them too, so that's also good, she likes my grabby hands if they sparkle. I also recently got her a new coffee mug, can never have enough of those as it turns out since she keeps a collection of them to assist in her caffeine addiction. There wasn't really an occasion! She gives me gifts fairly often and likes surprising me. I do too! She's just better at it LMFAO Cool off 🍹- When was the last time your f/o made you laugh so hard you could cry? (Or vice versa) Oh, lemme tell ya. This might be the stupidest thing I've ever cried laughed at to date but I'm also a child so-- what do we really expect here huh? Yelena is German and Russian, she's trilingual. Speaks German, Russian, and English all fluently (WOWIE what an inspiration mAH WIFE), and some words just sound...really funny. I have a thing for funny-sounding words. I'm an aspiring linguist so she frequently says things outside of English just to do it-- or to quiz me. One day I asked her to grab me a soda, very simple. She grabbed me a can and simply said: "Sprudel". I lost it. Completely. Tears and scream laughing at how funny it sounded. This was the first time she ever made me laugh so hard I could cry-- and it wasn't even intentional. She then clarified that it *actually* meant sparkling water but she thought the word would have been interesting for me to hear. She was absolutely correct and was now officially a comedic genius from that point forward. Now it's kind of our thing-- sometimes I call her a tall glass of sprudel like the cringe lord that I am and it always gets a smile out of her. (Hence why one of her tags is Sprudel, too special not to tag right?) Feathers 🦜 - What is something you look forward to in you and your f/o's relationship, whether big or small? AH. Good question, @ me. I look forward to anything that will make me fall more in love with her! The way she gets ready in the morning? I look forward to every morning, watching her walk around getting ready for the day. If she changes anything I'll notice, and I'll love her for it. Little things like that, the discovery of something I didn't realize was there, I live for it. I wanna love her more each day, and I always do. She's still rather mysterious despite me knowing her so well, and also her being my wife that helps me thinks-- but anything I can latch onto I will always look forward to. And all the cuddles, never enough of those. THANK YOU FOR ASKING BESTIEEEEE virtually talking your ear of now bcus ofc I would. WELL HERE'S SOME INSIGHT ON MY BIG ASS WIFE <3333 Feel free to send me an ask for this ask game!!

#starshine asks #❤️: Honey thief #❤️: Sprudel #GOD I LOVE TALKING ABT MY WIF E #MY LOVEEEEEEEEEE #i could go on and on #ugh #ANYWYASSSS THANK U EEVEE MY LOVE

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hush Hush~ /// Kazuha x reader (nsfw) GIVEAWAY PIECE

Hello all!! We have a very special book from a limited time release that is here to join our library! Give thanks @kazuhakitty for donating this book that is from one of our old collections! Enjoy loves!

donation note:

please may i get a kazuha x reader nsfw where we like yk ;)) on the ship and kazu keeps telling us to be quiet bc otherwise the crew would find out what we’re doing 😵‍💫 dom kazu oh and praise loads of praise please

OOOH WAIT he gotta put his fingers in our mouth 😞🙏

༻Kaedehara Kazuha༺

The Crux was currently on it’s way to Inazuma to import some new goods and talk more about the new rules of trade given that the Sakoku Decree was lifted, exciting Beidou a lot given that meant she’d get more business for her crew. It didn’t exactly excite you because it meant that your lover would be constantly busy and on the go, Kazuha was never in one place more than once.

He asked you after months of letters and small dates if you wanted to travel with him and couldn’t help but kiss you when you said yes, effectively making you a part of Beidou’s crew (which she liked you already so it wasn’t a problem). The sunset shown through the sails as the bow crashed against the waves, you were sitting next to Kazuha on the top of a decorative wooden dragon along the side of the ship

His arm was around your waist and head leaning against your shoulder, looking out at the mix of orange, pinks, and reds painting the sky. “It really is a picture of beauty, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Turning your head towards the samurai only to see him smiling at you, cheeks barely flushed, and laughing softly. You pushed his shoulder and looked away, “You’re always like this, don’t you ever run out of inspiration, zuzu?”

Running his fingers through your hair, his crimson eyes jumped to every part of you before landing on your lips, meeting your gaze after a second. The wind whipped around both of you, it was a light but warm breeze signaling the beginning of summer and more free time for fun.

“Not at all, not when my muse traveling alongside me.” A rare smirk came on his lips and cupped your face, bringing you in for a sweet kiss. Your giggle was muffled by his lips and you returned it happily, breaking apart for a bit to catch your breath before biting Kazuha’s lips playfully.

“You seem especially excited tonight,” Murmuring between breaths, pulling you into his lap so you were facing in-front of him and away from the view of the crew. Your fingers clasped his and you brought it up to your mouth, pecking it before explaining your usual joy.

“I was hoping since we haven't been intimate for a while that we could have some alone time tonight?” Your lover grinned and nodded, kissing the backside of your neck and getting up, extending his hand for you to take. Whispering when he guided you by your hips as you went down the ladder to the deck how he was going to spoil you, pleasuring you till you could only remember his name.

You’d been so good so he decided why not treat his beloved to a well deserved night of luxury, he had had some not so innocent thoughts over the past week that he’d buried down in order to get some tasks done. Now he’d let them flow freely, the image of your hot shaken post sex body below him sending some blood to his dick.

Oblivious to anyone else you both were going to turn in for the night and come out for dinner later on (maybe not to Beidou, she always knew what went on on her ship), once out of sight happily running to your shared room. The energy electrifying between the two of you and shocking you with every touch he gave you, silent pleas and desires being told with his crimson eyes.

Intertwined hands lead you to your shared room and smile when Kazuha pinned you against the wall, tilting your head up so he could get better access to your neck. Placing kisses and nips on your collar bones, enjoy the sweet sounds that fall from your lips.

“Now, pretty girl. Come here.” He guided you to bed and above him, having you straddle his hips. The wanderer patted his lips and motioned for you to strip, never breaking his gaze from yours.

A chill ran through you as you took off your bra and panties, your boyfriend came from the bed. “Such a good girl, being so obedient for me.” you preened at the praise given to you and you held back a moan, walking over to him and straddling his waist.

He lifted your thighs so that you hovered above his mouth. Reaching his head up and licking a stripe up your pussy, your head lolling back at the small shot of pleasure racing through your veins.

You sat yourself on his lips, practically melting once Kazuha got to work, sucking on your wet cunt like a man starving for something to drink. Expertly using his thumb to stimulate your clit and holding your waist down with the hold, preventing you from getting off his tongue.

“I bet you’ve been dreaming of this, dove.” Kissing the inside of your inner thigh and biting part of your cunt, “Having me absolutely ruin this hole of yours.” A loud moan interrupted him and he eyes snapped up to you, narrowing and thrusting his tongue against your walls.

“You need to stay quiet, baby girl.” Whining, you nodded and clenched your eyes shut, your hand fourth tangling itself in his cream colored hair.

The knot inside you tightened and you held in a cry, whimpering at the lust pushing your climax closer and opening your lidded eyes to Kazuha’s. He laughed, the vibration giving you further stimulation and murmured something, even though he had his mouth full you could understand him.

“Is my beloved gonna cum? Do you think that you’re allowed to cum?” Kazuha pretended to mull over the thought and enjoyed your pained expression, before smirking into your pussy. “I think you’ve been good enough. Cum.”

With that you felt the string snap, the waves of pleasure struck you hard and you bit down on your lip to hopefully quiet down. You don’t think you could live down the humiliation if Beidou or the crew found out about this.

Your thighs shook as you rode out your orgasm and your lover was still drinking up all your juices, thumbing your clit and cooeing praises at you . “Good girl.” “So pretty for me.” “Mine.” “Delicious.”

Sighing, you opened your teary eyes and smiled at Kazuha, trying your best to get off so he could sit. He turned you around and rubbed his dick along your pussy, getting it wet and poking the tip at your hole.

“You can make it one more round can’t you? You always look so pretty being fucked dumb on my cock.” You nodded, eager for another orgasm and sat down on his length, your eyes shuttering at the tightness of him stretching you out.

“Kazu- please~” That was all he needed to start thrusting his hips up and fondling your tits, setting a steady pace that drove you insane. Already sensitive from your first climax, you were overstimulated and failed to hold back some moans, gasping at how his dick kissed your cervix at every movement.

“More- mrph!” His index and middle fingers made their way into your mouth, stroking your tongue and moving back and forth. “Sweetheart, you need to be quiet or else you’ll alert the whole ship that you’re such a good little slut for me. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Shaking your head, tears pricked your face at the pain and pleasure building up in your body, the knot tightening and your pussy squeezing Kazuha’s cock. You rolled your hips and whimpered, being more careful of the people above you and pleaded, all of your words coming out in a jumble with his fingers still occupying your mouth.

The samurai smirked and chuckled before removing his fingers, a string of saliva connecting you both, tilting his head. “Do you think you deserve to cum again? You should be rewarded for being such a good little listener.”

“Yes. Please Kazuha, let me cum on your cock. It feels so good~ cum inside me- aH” He grunted, his pace faltering and clearly close to orgasming himself, “Alright darling~” You rolled your hips unsteadily, having him touch that one spot that drove you crazy and kept doing the same motion.

Your vision went white and you clamped a hand over your mouth to silence your lewd noises, your body shook as it climaxed once more and left you grasping onto Kazuha’s shoulders for support. He kept thrusting, the wet noises of his cock jamming your cum back into your cunt filled your room.

He kept going until he pulled his cock out, humming onto your stomach, white warm ropes dripping down your abdomen. Both of you panting to regain air and freezing when you heard footsteps walk down the hallway. Your lover motioned to stay quiet, a finger over his pursed lips, and breathed a sigh of relief when the noise faded away.

“Now my dear. You look up for another round, I say we let them know who you belong to.”

#kazuha x reader #kazuha kaedehara #kazuha smut #kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[merakiui]

So I hear a serial killer Jade 👀 go on. (Ooh as someone that likes tru crime this gave me an idea but I would love to hear more from u)

I have been watching a lot of true crime lately, so it gave me inspiration. I think Jade would be scarier as a serial killer than Floyd. Jade would tear you apart, piece by piece, slowly and methodically—starting with your mentality and working his way outside. Floyd’s kills would be dependent on his mood swings. Most of his murders would be a spur of the moment thing and they’re all violent and angry deaths. At the very least, you won’t have a chance to feel scared because Floyd’s quick about it (most of the time).

I’ll share my brief thoughts below!

(cw: yandere, female reader, pregnancy mention, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, mentions of murder/death/violence, kidnapping/captivity, mentions of blood/gore, drugging)

Ever since police discovered a body half-submerged in the river, his eyes gouged, face scratched, body bruised and littered with scrapes, people have started wondering who or what could have done such a brutal thing. The man was missing his left arm; it had been seemingly severed with a sharp blade and was wrapped expertly. Dark crimson bled through the bandages. There was also a gaping hole in his chest, exposing pearly bone and strings of tissue. His heart was missing. A few fingers had been chopped off and what remained was bandaged stubs, but other characteristics that may be used to identify the body remained intact. It turned out to be a man with a shady past. He’d had his fair share of run-ins with the authorities, but he had been on track for nearly five years now. Those who knew him claimed he had been working to fix his life.

In other words, he wasn’t anyone special. Just your random citizen stuck in a bad place at a bad time.

As the authorities work to piece together this crime and identify what truly killed the man (because there are so many possibilities as the coroner encounters new findings during the autopsy), the city is gripped with fear, curiosity, and disgust. Just what sick person could be capable of such a heinous crime? And why did they remove the man’s heart? Why was it so violent?

By the time another body shows up—this one is female—and police note that her heart has also been harvested from her chest cavity, along with some other organs (liver and intestines), they’re certain it’s the same person. Interestingly enough, her eyes were untouched, blindfolded with a thick strip of cloth.

Is it a cannibal? Is it a monster? No one really knows, and police haven’t the faintest clue on who to look for. Without a potential suspect, they’re stuck building the list from the ground up. Like the man, the woman was also no one of importance. She was a prostitute who had been disowned by her mother and, according to the autopsy, she had been two months into a pregnancy.

With the careful way the organs were extracted, police begin to wonder if the killer is connected to the organ trafficking business. They certainly seem to know their way around a dissection and human anatomy. Perhaps they’re someone in the medical field? It’s anyone’s guess, really.

But from comparing the bodies, they can see a few similarities. The hearts were removed, the eyes were either gouged or covered, and both the man and woman had been dumped in their respective locations after they had been killed. 

As police tell reporters they’re working to solve this case, someone brings up a valid question. Are there any other bodies out there that have yet to be discovered?

Police don’t want to assume that this killer’s body count is higher than what they’ve already found, but it’s a possibility they can’t scratch off the list. The killer targeted unimportant people, but who knows where and when they’ll strike next. If they can kill a pregnant woman so viciously, what’s stopping them from moving onto children? The elderly? 

They must be stopped. 

- - -

Jade Leech loves humans.

He loves their weaknesses, their vulnerabilities, their anatomy, their taste. There really isn’t anything special about his murders. He doesn’t do it for the thrill or because he’s trying to prove an outlandish point. He does it simply because he’s hungry. Because regular meals can no longer satisfy him and humans are so easy to capture and dismantle. 

Azul and Floyd do not know of his obsession and he intends to keep it that way. Both lead promising lives and his is so shrouded in darkness. Should a day come when he’s caught, it would spell trouble for those around him. Floyd has his face; the amount of hate and ostracism he’ll receive will certainly crush him. Azul’s business might even go down with Jade. After all, no one wants to be associated with a serial killer. Therefore, Jade has resolved to hide this world-altering secret from his brother and friend.

He wears a mask to hide his sharp teeth. He makes sure to take transformation potions so that the effect won’t wear off and his monstrous form won’t be exposed to humans. He is polite and respectful—an upstanding member of human society. He keeps his distance, he blends in with the crowd, and he only ever targets those who have been cast aside by society. Rejects in his eyes—people who are no longer cared for by the world. What poor, fragile things. Jade will be sure their sacrifices are not in vain. He will make an adequate meal out of them, and whatever’s left can serve as fertilizer for his dear plants and mushrooms. 

Although it is comical to throw a bone to the police every now and then. The two bodies he dumped—one in the river and the other in a waste bin in some dingy alley—didn’t taste edible at all. He supposes that’s what happens when humans ruin their bodies with alcohol and drugs and other harmful substances. They were of no use to him. They could not feed him. What sorry lumps of human flesh. They weren’t even worth becoming fertilizer.

He meets you through Azul. You’re Azul’s personal fitness trainer and every morning the two of you set off on your mile run. It kills Azul and he hates it, but he does it anyways because a good businessman ought to stay in shape. You’re so encouraging; you match Azul’s pace, you tell him it’s okay to take breaks, and you praise him for doing well. Your behaviors are genuine and kind; you care for Azul and his health. And after a year of this routine, it seems like Azul cares for you, too. 

Jade accompanies the two of you on your runs sometimes, as will Floyd if he’s feeling it. Azul can’t stand it when the two of them join in and he’ll get quite defensive about his reasoning whenever Floyd pokes fun. Jade finds it amusing to see Azul grow flustered and huffy over something so simple. It’s very cute. What’s cuter, though, is you. You’re not a reject, you’re important, you have connections. You’re conscious of your health, you treat your body carefully, and you’re very capable. You are, in Jade’s mismatched eyes, a premium meal. 

When you reach the end of your run, sweaty and thoroughly energized, and you lift your shirt to wipe at your face Jade can’t help staring at your stomach. It’s cute; you’re cute. Every inch of you, from top to bottom, has him salivating. He wonders what face you might make as he slices into you with deadly precision. What will your blood taste like? What will your heart taste like? What noises will you make? Will you scream and cry? Will you fight him? 

Alas, his interest in you is troublesome. People will notice when you go missing. They will come looking. They care about you. Jade supposes that securing high-quality ingredients will prove to be a challenge. This isn’t like the others he’s killed and eaten. This is different; this is risky. But he can’t stop his thoughts from running wild as he observes you from afar, noting how you move, how you interact with other humans, how you light up when you cheer for Azul.

He must plan accordingly if he wishes to take you for himself. In the meantime, he’ll have to settle for street food. 

Jade will have you. It’s only a matter of time. Patience is key, after all, and a skilled hunter like himself knows how to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike.

And when he does finally steal you away after months and months of preparation and practice, you’re horrified. Understandably so, considering his hobby is not legal or morally correct. He’ll console you in a soft voice, but it doesn’t do anything to soothe the fear. Now that you see him without his mask it becomes clear that he’s not entirely human. No human could have sets of teeth that sharp. His teeth are designed for shredding the toughest of flesh. 

You learn that he’s the serial killer everyone’s been talking about on the news. You also learn that his motive isn’t to kill you for the fun or thrill of it. He intends to dissect you, devour every possible organ and limb he can until all that remains are your bones and gallons of drained blood. He’s insane. And when he forces some strange liquid down your throat and you feel yourself growing numb and tired, you plead with a heavy tongue. He’s looking over you like a butcher readying his knives and, as desperation and fear mount, you blurt the first excuse that pops into your head.

You tell him you’re pregnant.

And why should that matter? Jade does not care about pregnancy or human children. But when he sees the tender way you hold your stomach, tears staining your pretty skin, he feels...something. Perhaps he’s conflicted. Perhaps the sight warms his cold heart. 

“Pregnant.” He repeats the word slowly, testing it on his tongue. “You’re pregnant.”

“I am!” You force your eyelids open, willing yourself to stay awake. The moment you fall asleep is the moment your life ends. You can’t let that happen. “I found out a f-few weeks ago. So please don’t do this. Y-You can kill me if you want, but please wait until the baby’s born. Please...”

Nine months. That’s the normal gestation period for human young. Nine months is a long time to wait for a premium meal. He’ll certainly grow restless within the first few months. What is he meant to do with your child once it’s born? Is he meant to devour them as well? He really has no use for a child, but if it’s yours he can make an exception for you. 

“Who is the father?”

“A-Azul.”

"Hm.” His eyes cloud over with an unreadable emotion. “Is Azul aware of this?”

“Not yet. I... I was going to tell him soon.”

Jade frowns. Things just became far more complicated than he anticipated. 

“Very well.” He sets his tools aside, peering down at you on the metal examination table. “You will live for nine months. I shall care for you up until the day you give birth.” His hand lingers on the largest knife in his collection, a subtle warning. “I’m certain you already know the consequences that come with an escape attempt.”

You nod frantically, weakly struggling in your restraints. “T-Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Jade's scrutinizing gaze travels from your face to your throat to your abdomen, and he lifts your shirt to observe your stomach. And then he looks back at you and, in a gentler tone, says, “What would you like for dinner? I’ll prepare something nutritional for you.”

You list a random food, slurring the words incoherently, before your eyes shut altogether and you succumb to the sedative.

You’ll have a few months to work out an escape—if one is even possible. Pray that Jade does not discover your lie in the meantime. If he learns that you are not truly pregnant...

It’s a race against the clock and Jade’s perceptive intelligence. 

#twisted chit chat #yandere jade leech #yandere twst #serial killer jade

[moneymasnn]

And No Matter How Hard I Try, It Will Always Be you...

A Mason Mount love story:

Part 1: How it started off...

Part 2: Vs how its going.

Part 3: How have you been?

Teaser:

You see typical teen romance, Y/n sees the boy that gave her life. The boy that helped her morph into the woman she is today.

He was her first kiss, the first person she lost her innocence too, the first person to show her what real love felt like. He will always remain in her heart as her first, but never did she imagine he would be her last...

From ages 15 to 18 y/n and mason shared an array of innocent touches and lingering kisses full of love. Young, vibrant love, the kind of love that makes you feel special and wanted, the kind of love you crave after reading a romance novel, the kind of love thats so delicate and fragile it can almost kill your once it’s gone.

So when Mason told y/n he was moving across the world for his football, she felt that inanimate sting that can only be portrayed in movies, her first heart break.

As far a young love goes, y/n will always treasure her memories with Mason. Like how she would get drunk and tell her friends about how amazing it is to feel that kind of love, or like how she cried on the tube when she saw on the back of a news paper how Chelsea had just signed academy star Mason Mount.

She never really felt love like that again, and she was okay with that, love like theirs was once in a lifetime, she was just happy she got to experience it for the most cherished 3 years of her life.

Safe to say Mason found that love again, but a different kind of love, the love he had for his daughter, Arabella.

He thought of y/n every once and a while, she was a huge part of who he is today, and every bone in his body wanted to thank her for that and find out how her life had played out in the last 5 years. When he saw her pop up on his instagram, happy and healthy, becoming a well known social media star, he spent the whole night stuck on his sofa listening to the vibrant sound of her voice in her YouTube videos.

But when they see each other for the first time in the flesh since 2017 will their love rekindle like before, or would they have simply just grown apart?

~~~~~~~~

I am so fricken excited to write this for you guys!! I’ve had it in the works for a while, it’s half inspired by one of my fave films the note book and have literally fell in love with the idea. I’m going to post the finale of flower girl first then chapter 1 of this fic will be out!🤍🤍

#mason mount fic #mason mount #masons mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine

[roger-that-cap]

wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader 

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park. 

yet another au by me... 

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened. 

  “S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand. 

  “What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.” 

 “Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

  “Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see. 

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife. 

  Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously  irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms. 

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them. 

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it. 

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings. 

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea. 

 You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream. 

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch. 

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you. 

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom. 

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose. 

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.” 

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world. 

 But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt. 

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut. 

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime. 

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” 

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once.  He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.” 

  His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?” 

  “Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.” 

 Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand. 

“‘I’m Bucky.” 

  For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.” 

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back? 

 “She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her. 

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.” 

  Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” 

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.” 

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.” 

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-” 

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”  

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see. 

 “She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.” 

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.” 

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth. 

  “I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

  She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention. 

  “Wanda.” 

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face. 

  “You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.” 

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic,  and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock. 

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.” 

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand. 

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.” 

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie? 

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power. 

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.” 

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?” 

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.” 

 Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.” 

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different. 

 It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather. 

  It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand. 

 Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

  “That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.” 

  “I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?” 

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look. 

“Are you into herbal healing?” 

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?” 

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.” 

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

  With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

 He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”  

You frowned. “What girl?” 

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.” 

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup. 

  There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes. 

  If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you. 

  You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck. 

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger. 

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was. 

She was silent. 

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?” 

 That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-” 

 “Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember. 

  “I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-” 

 She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin. 

  For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours. 

  You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it. 

   You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all. 

Wanda. 

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace. 

  “I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.” 

  The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you. 

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” 

  Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.” 

  “Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

   “A new life will do that to you.” 

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were. 

  She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves. 

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.” 

#wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #my fics #witch!wanda #marvel au #witch!au #scarlet witch #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #no idea what to tag this- #wanda x you #lgbt marvel #lgbt

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content. 

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses. 

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.” 

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.” 

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sequel #looking for a place to happen #au #biker au #biker!au #birch #biker boys of birch #MCU #marvel #thor #loki #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #captain america #tfatws #avengers

[mythicalninjas]

A Hard Choice To Make - Part 1

"Go talk to him. It's the only way to wash your emotions away." April, the reporter of Channel 6, advise you.

"No!" Your eyes went wide "No, I won't!"

"Then do you want to live with it stuck into you for the rest of your life?"

You lower your head, not knowing what kind of response you should give besides this not-desired possibility. April is right.

Since you met the brothers—three years ago—you have created a strong family bond with all of them, specially with the fearless leader in blue who your heart shines for. You knew that something within you is brougth to life every time Leonardo is around, and it is kind of torture because you literally fell in love with this terrapin.

But there's a doubt haunting you: Is Leo with the same feelings about you? The objection behind it is almost invalid in your point of view. He is the leader of his group, known as being the only one who tries to keep his brothers in line, making decisions for each time they are out for patrol, dealing with the most heavy and difficult choices and moments throughout their adventures. And you... You are just a human as you always say.

You sigh, turning your eyes back at April "Ya know, I have no idea if he feels the same about me. I'm afraid of how he'd react from my declaration."

April leaves her desk, and sits next to you on the sofa in the living room of her apartment. "Y/N..." she said softly, landing her slender hand on your shoulder "Soon or late he will know; but if I were you, I would go talk to him. He won't figure it out alone". You nodded, staring at the floor again with your mind lost in an ocean of thoughts and emotions. "Try, Y/N. Do not let it consume you; or it will get worse" the reporter rubs your shoulder and embrace you in a comfort hug.

"Would you like me to talk to him?" She offered herself.

"No! No... I must be prepare myself first."

April let's out a soft giggle "Okay. Take your time, sweetheart. Call me if you need help." She smiled.

You let the comfort of her embrace take you completely as a help to try to kick out your anxiety, but your nervousness insists to stay. How would you say to the most respectable man that you're in love with? How would he reacts? Will he treat you in a bad or good way? You knew he wouldn't treat you like an idiot or something but even that you are not secure.

A few weeks has passed since April's advice.

You and Casey Jones were called by Chief Vicent to attend a meeting at NYPD police station for a debate about Shredder after his sudden disappearance in the day that Technodrome has appeared in the sky. And for your surprise you're not the only one who were invited.

Your mutant turtles best friends are there.

And speaking of them...

"Hey Casey and Y/N!" Mikey was the first one who came up to welcome you both as you enter in the police station. "Finally you're here! Chief Vicent is waiting for you" the young brother pointed at up stairs of the building.

You and Casey went quickly to the second floor.

Arriving there, Mikey pointed at one of the several rooms throughout the large corridor. From outside you could see three shells facing the only door of the small space, and your eyes shone. In the middle of the three massive terrapins, a blue and well-written kanji with a pair of katanas.

"Y/N? Are you coming or...?" Casey called, noticing your behaving.

You froze, desperate about what you would do with that handsome man a few steps away from you—actually standing on the other side of the table.

Gulping, you walked behind Casey as you both enter the room.

"Good evening, Casey Jones." the blond-haired woman nodded from the other side of the rectangular table, facing you both "And Y/N" she nodded again, sharing a polite smile. Other three pairs of eyes landed on you while you stand beside Casey "Hey, guys" Donnie waved with that cute grin he has. "Hey..." Raphael said with a neutral voice; and finally Leonardo who, as Chief Vicent, shares a nod and a smile.

Oh God, that smile makes your bones shiver.

"So what are the news, Chief?" Casey asked, leaning above the table to watch papers and pictures scattered above it.

"We got a prove that Shredder must be still alive" she continued "We have captured Karai who was with him in the day that Kraang has arrived on Earth for the first time, and has confessed that Shredder was teleported into Technodrome. It was the last time she has seen him" she finished, glancing quickly at Shredder's picture on her right side and then looked up at everybody there present.

"Wait, wait..." The hot head turtle interferes "Last time? But how? Karai and Shredder used to work together all the time! Perhaps she is laying-"

"We don't know, Raph." The leader cuts his brother, then Mikey continued "Or maybe Shredder is working for Kraang.", Donnie moved his body a bit to stand face-to-face with his brothers and continued "We do not know if all those suggestions are valid, but I fear what Mikey said. Shredder must be working for Kraang."

Chief Vicent nodded positively, leaning above the table "I wouldn't discard this possibility."

The idea of Shredder working for Kraang freaks you out. Shredder is known for being dangerous, and Kraang is known for being deadly; and the two of them together is a nightmare.

After a few minutes of silence, Casey questioned "So, what are we gonna do now?"

"Wait. For now." Chief Vicent responded, not breaking her eye contact with the Shredder's picture beside her, and the room was filled with Raph's indignation voice "Wait?! How much time of wait?!"

"Raph, more respect!" Leo punch his brother's arm, murmuring and shaking his head in disapprove by his brother's behaving.

You tried to not giggle by their brotherhood behaving.

"We don't know..." Chief Vicent replied "but all we can do now is use what we have available to find Shredder; and Kraang. I'm highly doubt that Shredder isn't on Earth. Maybe he was brought back by Kraang. As you said before, Donatello" she pointed "the atmosphere in Technodrome is toxic for those who have a normal cardiovascular system. Hardly Shredder would survive in that thing out there".

"There's an interesting point" Leo continued "But It's been months since his disappearance and till now no one has seen him. For sure, if someone have, they would warn us."

"Or they would help him" Raph participated one more time "We don't know if someone is his follower."

"You mean a new Shredder?" Mikey asked, surprised.

"I would freak out if it is true." You said.

"Me too." Chief Vicent agreed, sighing.

The worst nightmare of the boys is that another (or other) person ended up like Shredder. For sure someone out there have inspired themselves on that horrible assassin and perhaps will keep on doing his dirty work as a next generation of the Foot Clan. It must be happening in any city, state or country right now.

After two hours of debate, Chief Vicent has decided give a break, and then back to the reunion.

You are checking out your Pinterest in another small room of the building to spend some time. But your is mind busy thinking more about Leo than paying attention to the pics on your social media. You just scroll down, the pics passing through your phone screen quickly; then your mind focused in flashbacks of your conversation with April a few weeks ago.

You want to confess your love for Leonardo. You want to face him and say how much you love him.

But why are you feeling something negative inside you?

You sighed, without knowing what to do. Your eyes lift from the screen and scanned the small room around you. There's a desk with a deactivated computer in the left and a cupboard on the right. Cupboard? Why is it here in a office? Maybe this room is used like a kitchen. And speaking of it... where's the coffee machine and other stuff used by workers?

You shrugged, ignoring it and paying attention to your phone again.

"Y/N?" A familiar deep voice called from the door frame. You jumped and quickly looked up at the person.

Actually, at the turtle.

"Oh, hey Leo" you smiled, pretending you didn't got scared by his sudden apparence. But he was giggling a bit "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" he came in, picking up a chair and sitting beside you.

Butterflies started to fly wildly in your belly.

"Come on, Y/N! Say something!" you thought. "So... How's things going?". "Really, Y/N?! Is it all you can say?!" You coursed at yourself.

Leo glanced at you and says confused "Um... Things are great. Thanks." he smiled.

Now is the time. You have to tell! You want to tell! But you're fucking afraid.

Your thoughts says to do not do it but your heart says yes. You took a deep breathe, rubbing your hands on your thighs nervously and finally looked up at him.

"Leo..." You called softly.

"Hm?" He looked back at you in the eyes. It seems that your heart will get out of your chest, and you could feel your cheeks burning.

"I...".

He just tilted his head, waiting for your answer.

"I... am gonna take some coffee. W-Would you like some?" That's it. You wanna punch yourself in the face.

He lift an eyebrow—at least you could see.

"Um... Yes, please". He answered, still suspicious about why are you acting that way. You got up from the chair where you were and walked out of the room, but before you could leave, Leo grabs your arm and makes eye contact with you, worried "Are you okay?"

"Why? Yeah! Why wouldn't I am?" You tried to act as normal as possible, but you couldn't hide it from him. This man can notice if something is right or not. And you fear that. You don't wanna mess your moment. You just want to relax with him, and not put more worry into him. Leo and his brothers are already dealing with Shredder's disappearance which is shaking them inside out frenetically. And the last thing you want is bother him with your love.

"I'll be right back." You gently released from his massive hand and left the room, leaving him alone.

"Damn, Y/N! What's wrong with you?" the whisper leaves your mouth and suddenly you bumped with another woman, hitting your shoulder with hers.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

"Oh, no. It's okay" the red-haired waved, grinning "I must apologize, I was distracted".

"Don't worry, I was distracted too." You giggled, then kept on your way to find a coffee machine which you have no idea where it is.

For sure your thoughts are torturing and preventing you by something you wish to do. You've been hiding your love for Leo for almost three years.

After ask a cob where to find a coffee machine you finally have found it in somewhere on the third floor of the police station.

"Okay, Y/N. You can do this" you whispered while you fill almost to the top two cups with the dark liquid. "You can do this. You can do this..." You continued to repeat, trying to fill you with courage.

"I'm ready. I can do this!"

Picking up the two cups with dark coffee youheaded back to the small room where the handsome man is waiting for you.

Stopping beside the door frame—you can't see what is happening inside the small room—you took a deep breath and get yourself ready for the long-awaited moment of your life.

Smiling, you walked in.

And froze.

Leo was there, as you expected, but he was kissing the woman who you accidentally bumped early on your way to get the coffee.

Your heart broke like someone has ripped it out from you.

It seems that the world has fallen under you; your body falling into an precipice.

You prepared yourself for three years for nothing. All the worries, expectations, and hopes you used to have, all that moments you've spent practicing what you would say to your best friend, all the great moments you and him spent. Three years of your life were wasted.

Leo and the red-haired woman broke the kiss and directed their eyes on you, surprised. You have to admit that you saw a light blush covering on his cheeks.

"Oh, Y/N." He said, smiling "Allow me to introduce you my girlfriend".

You felt a knot forming in your throat.

"Y/N, this is Melissa. Melissa, this is my best friend, Y/N." He used his hand to mention you and his girlfriend while introduce you both.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." Melissa waved.

"Nice to meet you, Melissa..." You shares a small smile, hiding your frustrating, and waved back.

You take a step forward to place the cup on the small desk next to you. Some drops of the dark liquid slipped out from the object "You should drink before it gets cold, Leonardo." You simply said, trying so hard to not cry. The leader got surprised when you said his full name. It's rare to you do it. Since you both got intimate—as best friends—you started to say his nickname as you do with the others. He doesn't understand very well the reason of your sudden change.

"Um... Yes, I will". He pronounced every single word slowly, tilting his head a bit as he looks at you. Melissa noticed your uncomfortable expression and asked worried "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"No!" you screamed mentally. "Yes! I am. I gotta go. Sorry." You whispered the last word, turning and heading out of the room, leaving the woman and your best friend together. Your eyes starts to get warm and a wet feeling of tears disturbs you completely; you refuse to cry in front of important and serious people from this place. So you forced your legs to walk fast towards the exit.

You were so distracted that you almost bumped Chief Vicent. You gasped.

"Hey, Y/N. We're going to back to our reunion right now. Have you seen Leo? I can't find him anywhere." the blond-haired woman asked.

"He-*deep breath* He's in that room." You pointed at the door in the end of the corridor. C. Vicent lift an eyebrow, studying your facial expression.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

"No, I'm not!" You gulped as see Chief Vicent's eyes going wide by your anger, then you immediately completed, "I'm not feeling good..."

But before Chief Vicent had a chance to talk to you, you lower your head and ran away, the knot in your throat and the pain in your heart growing up wildly.

You couldn't stay in that building anymore, not with Leo there. Not with the news of his sudden dating with someone. All you want now is go home, lay down on your bed, bury your face into a pillow, and cry like there's no tomorrow—well, actually there's no tomorrow for you.

How much time Leonardo is dating? And why April didn't tell you about it? Or any of his brothers? Do someone know about his dating? Or does he didn't tell to anyone yet?

You don't wanna know.

Actually you couldn't blame him because he has no idea that you are in love with him.

And now you have to deal with a new reality.

#tmnt #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles out of the shadows

[ddarker-dreams]

helloo

i’ve been trying to get more into reading (other than fanfics that it hehe) and i can’t seem to focus...and i see we both like horror so...

i was wondering...do you have any books you recommend or what are you’re favourite books? (or fanfics too if you’d like)

hello anon!!! admittedly, i neglected published works for the longest time in favor of reading fanfiction exclusively 😭😭 it’s only this past year where i started branching out into books/short stories again! if there are any other anons out there that have horror/thriller book recommendations, feel free to chime in, and i’ll update the list here accordingly! 

as for what i have read and recommend... 

The Castle of Otranto by Horace Wallace (regularly regarded as the first gothic horror novel, so i wanted to read it to pay homage to where my favorite genre came from! it’s old english-y, so it takes extra brainpower to get through, but i think it’s a classic look into the start of the genre). 

Break the Bodies, Haunt the Bones by Micah Dean Hicks (i think this falls more in line with southern gothic horror! this was recommended to me by a friend, and i absolutely adored it, i finished it in two days because i couldn’t put it down. it’s bizarre in how normal the characters treat the supernatural occurrences. also lots of good commentary on social issues imo, especially industrialization and the treatment of the working class. i don’t think i’ve ever read anything quite like it). 

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (quite possibly my favorite from this list, shirley jackson’s writing style is. idk how to even describe it. i’d never found myself so drawn into a world before. her descriptions are lengthy without feeling superfluous, like every word has its special place. i got attached to the characters very fast too. there’s a lot of ways to interpret this work and i’m grateful to the contributions shirley jackson made to horror novels in her life, especially how they explore different elements of womanhood through her protagonists. big recommend). 

Tomie by Junji Ito (this might fall more in line with manga, but since it’s horror, i still decided to include it. tomie is my favorite work by junji ito, followed closely by uzumaki and a few choice short stories. the changing setting from chapter to chapter really caught my attention, i felt like he was able to explore even more possibilities with that rather than sticking to a set cast of characters. the theories behind tomie are some of my favorite too). 

The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe (a short story, so hopefully that still counts. of course the writing is excellent, but something i found intriguing is the content’s of the story in regards to real life crime that took place centuries later. i love a lot of poe’s work, especially since he inspired many more gothic/horror writers after time, and that’s my favorite genre). 

in terms of fanfic, i’d recommend...

Business Before Pleasure by @redbeanboi (Giorno/Reader, rated E) (well this is probably the fanfic that i bring up the most in this blog and i hope jun hasn’t tired of me tagging them to sing praises of their work gtjkemr. i feel like if you’re a fan of reader-inserts, even if you haven’t watched JJBA, this fanfic is still worth the read. it’s insane the amount of detail and finetuning that was put into every sentence of this story, i’ve reread it multiple times, and i’m amazed for each one. jun’s been an inspiration to continue improving my writing for over a year now. i cannot recommend this fanfic enough, which is why i’ll continue to mention it without ceasing). 

Consequence by @archonanqi (Yan Zhongli/Reader, rated E) (i think i’ve lost track of the amount of times ive reread this fanfic . i could ramble for days, but how she writes zhongli is one of my favorite characterizations of him ever. she absolutely nails his dialogue and way of thinking. it’s a most blessed story that i can’t recommend enough!!! especially if you like yandere, then you’re going to absolutely love this). 

Paradoxical by @cryoculus (Kaeya/Reader/Diluc, rated E) (this is the fanfic that made me fall in love with kaeya . i don’t think i’ve ever found a character written so charmingly... the worldbuilding is wonderful too, you get the sense that the reader has a place in the universe specially carved out for her. every update expands further upon what’s been building up, and i can’t wait to see where everything is going). 

#recommendations #answered #Anonymous