#paras whisperer au

[ailingwriter]

Hey so remember my Paras Whisperer AU? Remember me making Pady Paracide and mentioning that Paracide have a low base stat total because all mushroom Pokémon do to balance out Spore being overpowered?

Well. (Glares at Toedscruel) Forget that. Paracide now has a BST of 500. Volo is fucking doomed.

#paras whisperer au #paracide #volo experiences true fear #toedscruel

[blue-madd]

New AU : genderbend vamp/human

Human princess Aynn is sold to vampire princess Zira to ease tensions between the two kingdoms or whatever and Aynn was kept locked up her whole life till she was old enough to marry so Zira makes her discover the outside world and magic and stuffs and it's fun

They are queerplatonic lesbians and Zira is mad protective of her wife princess

#i think they're the ones i love the most of all their AUs version for now #also Aynn has selective mutism but Zira thought she was mute for like months bc she has a v hard time talking #and when she talks she mostly whisper in her ear and she doesn't talk w other ppl bc scary #madd #paras rant #paraportal #paracosm : mixed AUs

[malkaviian]

empecé a hacer paletas de colores ah

#es que soy una mierda para volver a usar los mismos colores a ojo; y no puedo confiar mucho en el color picker #porque los colores originales terminan más claros luego de aplicarlos + mezclados y si uso el color picker... van a terminar más claros xd #así que bueno. feat el pelo de kaede del vamp au (???) #lilith whispers

[sassypossumm]

Stress Relief

Slightly smutty angsty/domestic 'stress relief' with Miguel... I have no idea where I got this from, but enjoy!!!

Miguel has been really stressed out. When isn't he stressed out, honestly, but he's been especially stressed out lately.

On the rare occasions he comes home, it's for nothing more than to grab a stale cup of coffee or a quick shower. It's obviously wearing on him, and you know he's beating himself up for how little time you've spent together.

The last straw comes when you come home to find him half dead on his feet, stuffing a stale Danish into his mouth. His exhausted features soften when he sees you, but his gizmo beeps and he yet again dashes through a portal with a rushed apology and peck on the cheek.

"Enough is enough." You grumble as a plan begins forming in your mind. Two weeks and several phoned in bribes later, Miguel is actually home. For an entire evening. And you'd be giddy with excitement if he weren't constantly checking his gizmo throughout dinner. And you'd gone to the trouble of making his favorite, Peppered Salmon and New Potatoes Au Grautin.

"Babe..." You tried to get his attention, putting down your fork. Miguel simply hummed. Your eye twitched and you took a steadying breath to keep from wringing his neck. "Your foods getting cold." Miguel flashes you an apologetic look and takes a bite, humming around the mouthful.

"Lo siento, mi vida." He mutters, taking another bite before looking back at his gizmo. You're not amused. Throwing down your fork with a huff, you stand and round the table, standing in front of him, hands on hips. "Nena, por favor. Just another minute,"

"You've been saying that for two hours, Miguel." His eyes snap up at your sharp tone, and he opens his mouth ready to protest when he takes in your stiff posture. Instantly his heart melts and he reaches for you.

"Aye, lo siento," His tone is soft, but you're not having it.

"You've been saying that for the last two hours too." His eyes widen at your tone, and he opens his mouth again, only to be met with your tongue bullying its way into his mouth, as you launch yourself into his arms. His sounds of surprise devolve into a practically depraved moan as he claws you closer, cradling you against his chest.

"Amor," He murmurs, leaving frantic open mouthed kisses down your neck. You rake shaky fingers through his hair, before remembering your irritation and tugging roughly at his hair. "Shock!" He hisses, jerking back to glare at you. "Para que era eso?!" You shift off his lap, and meet his glare with one of your own. Still stunned, he fails to notice you sinking to the floor between his thighs until you push as his thighs to make room to work. His attention flits to your position, and his anger melts into confusion. "Y/N,"

"I go to the trouble of bribing my way into a few hours with you, just a few hours." You growl, roughly unbuckling his belt. Miguel's eyebrows raise.

"You did what?" His words might as well have been back ground noise to you, as you grumbled under your breath, tugging at his zipper. Miguel's mouth went dry as he lifted his hips to let you all but yank his pants and boxers down. He watched you dumbly, as you looked at his cock in irritation before meeting his eyes, and his heart clenched at the hurt he saw.

"Do you think I like seeing you do this to yourself?" Your voice is sharp and you quickly sniff to keep from crying.

"Amor..." He whispers, trying to touch your cheek, but you bat his hand away and rest your hands on his thighs, rubbing at the hair on his corded thigh.

"I spent all afternoon making your favorite meal...and you've hardly taken three bites." Your attention shifts to his neglected cock, and you stroke it softly once. It twitches in response to your touch. You'd once quipped about his cock being 'touch interactive' but right now the thought soured in your mouth. Your brows pinch together and you again fix Miguel with an irritated glare.

"I wanted to make tonight special. Wanted to spoil you, get you to relax." You look longingly at his cock again, noticing it's slow awakening. "I adore you, and you are hellbent determined to neglect yourself." His large, warm hand cups your cheek, and you sniff as he guides your face up to meet his.

"Te amo." He whispers softly, running his thumb under your eye, catching a stray tear. You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head and places his thumb over your lips. "My turn." He says in the firm tone that sends tingles of pleasure down your spine even now. "You're right." He continues, surprising you, but it's what he says next that has you soaking. "And I'm sorry." You whimper, and his heart clenches.

"Miggy." Your defenses fall and you reach for him, irritation melting away, leaving you with only thr base instinct to feel him.

"Bebita." He growls gently. "Come here." You squeak as he pulls you roughly into his arms and licks his way into your mouth, pinning down your tongue with his own. You grip at his arms and shudder, trying and failing to catch your breath as your head grows fuzzy.

"I wanted to worship you." Your voice comes out a whispy thing against his lips drawing a primal groan from his chest as he sucks at your pulse before standing and hoisting you into his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you feel his hardness poke against your ass as he strides to the bedroom.

"You can worship me all you want, bebita." He growls, biting your neck as he kicks the door shut. Throwing you on thr bed, he quickly shedding his shirt before climbing on top of you possessively. "After all, we've got all night."

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel imagine #atsv #i don't know where this came from #i hope you like it!

[andypantsx3]

Deceiving the Duke | 5 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 3.2k of 30k words | 5th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

Over the next few weeks, you quickly grew even more familiar with Lord Shouto, though no closer to accomplishing your objectives.

Lord Shouto had taken to inviting you on outings, and asked for at least one dance at every ball you attended. You were always careful to utilize the time talking about Caroline, much to his persistent disinterest.

Time spent in more sharp-witted social circles than your own, however, made Lord Shouto very adept at steering the conversation his way, and more often than not, he found ways to turn things back on you. You found yourself divulging more facts about yourself than you had ever realized existed; dessert preferences—“Apricot cakes?” Lord Shouto had guessed with a horribly charming smirk—the previously promised list of your favorite novels, and para-political thoughts you later worried might reveal you as an outsider to the aristocracy.

In addition to Lord Shouto, Lady Asui and Miss Uraraka also seemed to have taken a liking to you. They appeared at your elbow almost as soon as you arrived to any party, taking you by the arm and leading you over to whatever corner they’d claimed for themselves, grilling you on Lord Shouto and any other gentleman foolish enough to ask you to dance, gossiping in return about their own would-be suitors, or other party attendees.

Through them, you learned which ladies had set their caps at which lords, which gentlemen were known for their wandering hands and were best avoided, and who had most recently snubbed who.

You were beginning to like them, the ease of their friendship, Lady Asui’s straight-shooter commentary, Miss Uraraka’s persistent cheer. They were good company. You would regret it, you thought, when the cloth had been pulled off of this charade and you had to disappear into the countryside.

Mrs. Utsushimi had noticed your newfound popularity, and had pulled you aside to whisper furiously about the danger to your operation. But her concerns were almost embarrassingly easily soothed, once she learned that you were taking any opportunity to speak well of Caroline, especially during any dance with Lord Shouto.

“They would make a beautiful match,” Mrs. Utsushimi said, her handkerchief clutched in one hand, vibrating with the force of her excitement. You could practically see stars in her eyes.

Some horrible little part of you rebelled at the idea of them together. You were surprised at your sudden impulse to squirrel Lord Shouto away for yourself, like a prize nut hidden in the hollow of a tree.

But obviously you couldn’t have him. And even if he had wanted you—once he learned of your deception, he’d hate you for sure.

That didn’t stop you from accepting his invitations, though—most recently for a promenade about the park. Ordinarily, you would have been the natural choice for Camie’s chaperone, in your capacity as a maid, but Lord Shouto, strangely, had seemed to think of this, supplying his elder sister, Lady Fuyumi and her husband—almost as if he had anticipated your household being short of chaperone supply.

“I recall the maid was indisposed at the time of my last calling,” he said vaguely when you asked, with a very carefully cultivated blank look on his handsome face that seemed almost…knowing.

But he couldn’t know, otherwise you’d have already been cast out of the capital and out of the Utsushimi’s employ.

Lady Fuyumi was incredibly kind and sweet. She asked you about your experience so far in the season, complimenting the stitching on your dress–which she could have no way of knowing you’d done yourself–and inviting you over for tea sometime.

Once you arrived at the park, she did you the good turn of walking some ways behind you and Lord Shouto. She chatted with her own husband just loud enough that you knew they were giving you some privacy.

She would make a lovely sister-in-law, and you found yourself jealous at the thought of Lord Shouto’s future wife. You hoped he chose wisely, someone who matched his thoughtful nature—you wondered if Princess Yaoyorozu was kind like him.

“There is an exhibit of Greek statues, at the other end of the park,” Lord Shouto told you as he fell into step beside you, his mouth turned up just slightly at the corner. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

You laughed, trying to scowl up at him for good measure and utterly failing. “You are incredibly presumptuous, my lord.”

Those mismatched eyes glittered down at you, a little bit mischievously. “Am I?” he asked lightly.

In direct sunlight he was even more beautiful than ever. His eyelashes left deep shadows over the tops of his high cheekbones, the colors of his heterochromatic gaze even clearer in the afternoon sunshine. He cut an especially dashing figure in his walking clothes–his shoulders broad under the dark fabric of his coat, the muscle of his legs almost too clear against his tight tan trousers.

Under his clothes, you imagined he looked exactly like the statues he meant to lead you to–a thought that had you flushing furiously under his gaze.

You sniffed imperiously, trying not to stare at him. “I should hope you would be more polite to Caroline, when you are reintroduced.”

Lord Shouto leaned in. “I should think you would not want to introduce her to any gentlemen you deem too presumptuous.”

You frowned. He always found some reason or another to avoid talk of Caroline.

Really. It was like he didn’t want to make her match! In your opinion, she was quite pretty. Tall, with large fawn eyes fringed with thick lashes, with tumbling strawberry blonde curls and a gentle manner. And she was the eldest sister besides, traditionally the sister with the largest dowry.

But Lord Shouto acted as though he did not care, finding excuse after excuse to avoid her at parties and in conversation.

“You know not what you are missing, my lord,” you told him.

He looked doubtful. “I believe I know exactly what I lack, Miss Utsushimi. I aim to remedy that by the end of the season.”

You almost tripped on the hem of your gown, your cheeks heating again.

A wife. He meant that what he was missing was a wife.

And he apparently had plans to obtain one by the end of the season!

You cast a sidelong glance at him, trying to determine what this meant. You did not miss the implications of him spending so much of his time with you, but the thought again was too absurd to consider. And there were the rumors of Princess Yaoyorozu besides. Even with him believing in your sham, why have the second daughter of an unlanded, barely-noble family when you could have a princess—the soon-to-be queen?

He was clearly associating with you in order to ward off other debutantes.

“Reign in your presumption by the end of the season?” you said, purposefully avoiding his meaning. “A bold undertaking, Your Grace.”

He laughed, a low rumbling sound that went right to your head.

“Your novels are not helping me,” he said in his low voice. “In fact, the hero always seems to possess presumption in spades. I would think you might have more tolerance for me, considering.”

You turned to stare at him, unable to help your delight. “You’ve been reading them?” you demanded eagerly.

Something like the hint of a smirk passed over Lord Shouto’s mouth, as if he knew how successfully he’d baited you. You couldn’t find it in you to begrudge him that.

“I have read three,” he said. “I can see why you like them. And also why they might be called a corrupting influence on young ladies.”

His tone was so carefully bland, you could tell he was teasing you. “You’re a corrupting influence,” you complained loudly. “Surprising young women in dark rooms, as I’ve said.”

Lord Shouto’s gaze flashed hotter for a moment, his smirk twitching even higher on the corner of his mouth—as if he liked the idea of being found a corrupting influence.

“You say it as if it is my habit,” he said. “When it’s happened only the once.”

You sniffed. “How am I to know that? You might have cornered half the ton.”

Lord Shouto stepped in front of you purposefully, so that you had to stop in your tracks, lest you bump directly into his chest. You gaped up at him, surprised.

He inclined his head towards you, as if leaning in to tell you a secret. “Half the ton has better aim, so I would not dare,” he whispered.

You laughed, grinning up at him helplessly. He looked rather pleased with himself at having drawn a smile out of you.

“The sculptures are down here,” Lord Shouto said, leading you off the path and onto a grassy slope that descended towards the burbling stream at the heart of the park. “Let me help you.”

He proffered his arm to you as he spoke. You could just see the shift of his strong shoulder under the thick fabric of his jacket and several butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach. Carefully, you reached out, taking his arm—and quite suddenly felt like you might faint, like a lady in exactly those novels you had just been discussing.

You could feel the shape of his arm under your hand, hard with muscle, flexing as he adjusted it for you. You hoped someone nearby was equipped with smelling salts, because you weren’t sure you were going to make it down to the sculptures. You clung tightly to his sleeve to keep you upright, heart racing.

Lord Shouto looked down at you curiously, those mismatched eyes sliding over you.

“I don’t want to fall,” you said quickly, digging out an excuse. A servant could very well descend a hill by herself, but you didn’t know if you were capable of unclenching your fingers from Lord Shouto’s bicep.

He led you down the hill, Lady Fuyumi and her husband descending after you, around a copse of trees to a patch of grass where the exhibit had been erected. There were roughly twenty statues in various states of deterioration, all equipped with their own carved plaques, explaining their stories and origins.

They had been laid out along a winding path that looped back on itself several times, leading the wanderer in a meandering but nevertheless purposeful course. The exhibition had clearly been laid out to tell some sort of story, but uneducated in the arts, you could not guess it.

Lord Shouto led you along the path, sidestepping families and chaperoned couples. You caught a few envious stares as visitors clocked Lord Shouto at your side, and you clutched his arm tighter in apprehension.

You also found very quickly that you had been correct: Lord Shouto was of a kind with the statues. Offensively, he was perhaps even more lovely than they were. The smooth marble of their skin, the strong cords of their fingers and throats, the sleek line of their muscle–it was all deeply reminiscent of Lord Shouto’s dashing figure–but even their features could not quite match his careful, clever beauty.

You resisted the urge to press your fingers harder against his bicep, as if to affirm he truly was a flesh-and-blood man beneath your fingers.

Lord Shouto led you over to the first statue, seeming to carve a path through the crowds like a blade. It was a marble carving of two sleeping, fat-cheeked children with wild curls, reclining over an unrefined hunk of the same stone. Little wings were folded across their backs, the feathers drooping down the other side of the stone. One of them was larger than the other, and looked to be swelling even larger–or maybe he was just taking a breath.

Lord Shouto bent over the inscription, some of which–obnoxiously–was in Greek. He flashed you something that might have been termed a smirk on anyone else before reading: “Eros, Greek god of love,” Lord Shouto gestured to the strange, swelling child. “And his brother Anteros, the god of mutual love.”

“Both sons of Aphrodite. In the company of Anteros, his brother Eros was said to grow larger. But if Anteros was away, Eros shrank back to his usual, smaller size. It is assumed to be a commentary on the strengthening of love by having one’s love returned,” Lord Shouto’s eyes flickered almost pointedly in your direction again.

You fought down a flush, appalled with your own sudden shyness. You might have liked Lord Shouto well enough, but love—love–-you did not dare. No matter how handsome or well-trained or attentive and kind Lord Shouto was.

It would be inappropriate of you to imagine any sort of feeling like that toward him.

You quickly schooled your features into a mask of disbelief. “You’ve made that up,” you accused him.

Lord Shouto blinked, a white eyebrow raising.

“Just because I can’t read Greek,” you sniffed at him. “Taking advantage of an innocent lady’s trust. Clearly it’s a commentary on infantile balloon disease.”

Both of Lord Shouto’s eyebrows rose into his hairline and his features went very still, as though he was suppressing a laugh.

“Balloon disease,” he repeated in a tone so bland and polite he might have been speaking to the king.

You flapped a hand at him. “I know a ballooning child when I see one.”

Lord Shouto hid his face in his sleeve, affecting a sudden cough, but you spied the tiny smile on his mouth when he looked at you again.

“Now be accurate or I’ll insist on a new guide,” you told him, not giving him any time to recover, and gestured him onto the next sculpture.

Lord Shouto cast you a long, searching look, as though he knew exactly what you’d just done to avoid a conversation on romance. But he offered you his arm again, and dutifully led you along.

Over the course of the next few hours, you slowly walked the course of the exhibition, Lady Fuyumi and her husband training behind you at a careful distance. Lord Shouto translated all the bits of the inscriptions in Greek, which you either accepted or discarded on a whim. He also helped supply some of the myths and stories the statues drew on, filling in the gaps in your knowledge neatly and expertly. You alternately spoke of the sculptures and the novels he’d read, and the level of careful attention he paid to both warmed you.

You liked the low, soft murmur of his voice as he explained things to you, and occasionally found yourself half-listening, getting lost in the shape of the syllables in his mouth, the deep richness of his tone.

You could imagine a thousand afternoons like this, clambering around some Greek ruins with Lord Shouto, listening to him patiently translate, watching him turn back to you with that small sliver of a smile whenever you added something ridiculous.

Eventually the two of you came to a statue in particularly good shape, a large man with a neat marble beard and a sly look in his eye.

“Dolos, the god of deception,” Lord Shouto told you, in a tone so light and devoid of any inflection that it sent a strange shiver up your spine.

You peered closer at his features, the shrewd fix of his mouth, his wiry curls, the sightless stare of his marble eyes. The god of deception–how utterly fitting that you should meet him here.

When you turned, Lord Shouto was looking at you strangely, those heterochromatic eyes glittering down at you.

“It’s…interesting,” you said, balking under his close inspection. “That they should have a god honoring such a thing.”

Lord Shouto’s mouth quirked. “Would you like to hear the inscription?”

You nodded, interested.

Lord Shouto read carefully, “Dolos was apprentice to the potter Prometheus, who had used all his skill to sculpt the form of Aletheia, the embodiment of Truth. As he was working, Prometheus was summoned away, leaving Dolos in charge of his workshop. Dolos used his time to copy Aletheia, completing a figure exactly like her, the same size and with identical features.”

You made sure to pay close attention this time, trying not to get too lost again in the smoothness of his voice.

“When he had almost completed her, he ran out of clay to use at her feet. When Prometheus returned, Dolos quickly sat down in his seat, shivering in fear–but Prometheus was amazed at the similarity of the two statues. He puth both in the kiln and infused both with life. But only Aletheia was able to walk, while her copy stayed stuck in her tracks, footless. It is like the saying a lie has no legs to stand on–something that is false can start successfully, but you cannot get away with it.”

A shiver really did crawl down your spine, then. “He created a copy,” you breathed, disliking the parallels between your own situation and the story. A lie has no legs to stand on–-you cannot get away with it.

But you had always known that. Your impersonation of Camie was always going to be discovered–you wondered if Lord Shouto would look back on this moment and see the twisted irony of it.

You hated to wonder how he would think of you, when all of this was through.

Any thought of wandering Greek ruins with Lord Shouto immediately vanished, and you drew in on yourself, remembering that your future only held the halls of a different home not your own, tucked away in the country where you would never see Shouto again.

If you were quiet for the rest of your interlude, Lord Shouto seemed to take it in stride, guiding you around the remaining statues and murmuring their inscriptions to you in his hypnotically low tone.

Eventually, Lady Fuyumi reminded Shouto that he had to dress for dinner–some invite higher in society than the Utsushimi family merited–and ushered you back to the carriage to deliver you home.

You followed obediently, your thoughts racing ahead through the end of the season, through the limited time you had left with Lord Shouto. This would all have to end so soon.

You didn’t know whether you should redouble your efforts to match him with Caroline, to end things sooner, or drag things out as long as possible, to carry the memory of this season with you forever.

You made polite conversation on the way home, avoiding Lord Shouto’s careful scrutiny, and chirped a sincere thank you as you approached the Utsushimi’s home.

It was only as Lord Shouto handed you down from the carriage at the Utsushimi’s front door that you truly realized the horribly romantic bent of your thoughts, the truth of your outing that you had been resisting the entire afternoon.

That you had liked your time with Lord Shouto, and that you wanted more of it–the one thing you could never, ever truly have.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x you

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Red Carpet

PAIRING | Husband!Young!Tony Stark x Wife!Pregnant!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.4K

SUMMARY | You're attending a movie premiere with Tony and are by far the most beautiful woman there if you ask him. From the beautiful dress to your baby bump, Tony couldn't be prouder to share your love with the world. When he goes down on his knees before you in the middle of the red carpet, he will officially make it one to never forget, and you will fall even more in love with your husband.

RATING | General (G)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship, use of nicknames (My Love, Sunshine)

A/N | This is a surprise and gift for my bestest and dearest friend and biggest supporter @ccbsrmsf1. Carol, quero começar dizendo o quanto sou grato por ter você em minha vida. Você se tornou uma grande parte disso e sou muito grato por você! Assim que você me pediu para usar esta foto do nosso homem, obviamente não pude recusar, e espero que você goste de babar nele enquanto lê minha história. Obrigado por estar na minha vida, e eu te amo 3000 💙

A/N | This is not proofread, so any and all mistakes are my own.

EVENTS Masterlist | @fandombingo | Caught on Camera Masterlist | @slumberpartybingo | Would you rather... Rain OR Sun

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist

"What do you think, My Love? Are we going for red or yellow today?" you ask Tony as you're standing in the middle of your walk-in closet, looking at your two dress options. He's wearing a black suit with a floral shirt, and both possibilities match perfectly, but you're feeling indecisive.

"Hmm, how about the red dress? You know I adore it when you wear the color of passion," Tony says as he stands behind you, his arms wrapping gently around your waist to find their home on your round belly. You're currently 7,5 months pregnant, carrying your second boy and third child overall.

"I like the way you think," you tell him as you melt into his touch. His warm body always feels so comfortable, and when he's holding you like this, it's so intimate in the best way possible. When you're about to say something, you can hear the pitter-patter of feet into your closet, notifying you that one of your other Munchkins is there.

"Are you going with the red dress, Mommy? It's my favorite color!" your daughter Orion says as she joins you and Tony in your cuddle, but she's on your side.

"Yes, Babygirl, I'm going to wear the red dress tonight," you tell her, basking in the love your husband and daughter are giving you. When you're about to ask where Hudson is, he comes in, too, joining the bundle of hugs. Your family now surrounds you, and you couldn't be happier as the butterflies in your chest go wild.

"As much as I love every single one of your hugs, I still need to get dressed for tonight," you tell all three of them with a chuckle, and they all let you go so you can get ready to go to the premiere for a movie in which Tony is playing the main character.

It takes a little while to be fully dressed and ready to go to the premiere, and you're excited to show everyone the finished outfit. Your hair is in a beautiful bun with a few pieces framing your face, and your make-up is light to keep the main focus on your dress - and, of course, your belly.

As you walk into the kitchen, you find Tony talking to Maria, who has happily agreed to watch the twins tonight. As you walk in, you feel like you're floating, which only intensifies when you see Tony's expression. His jaw is almost on the floor as he looks at you while being rendered completely speechless.

The red fabric hugs all your curves beautifully, and the off-shoulder look combined with the low neckline ensures every inch of your upper chest tattoos is displayed. Right above your right collarbone is one of the ones you're most proud of: Tony's name written in his handwriting.

"You look stunning, Sunshine," Tony whispers as he walks over to you. His mom is long forgotten as he only has eyes for you. The smile on your face hasn't been this big in a while, and your husband once again manages to make you feel like you're the center of the universe - which, in his defense, you are to him.

"You look amazing too, Tony and tonight is all about you, so I hope my outfit won't take too much attention away from you." You have never been one to enjoy the spotlight particularly, but sometimes, during nights like this, you make an exception and go with Tony to celebrate him and his achievements.

His deep, dark brown eyes look into yours, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tries to see if you genuinely believe what you just said.

"Oh Sunshine, my sweet, beautiful, amazing Sunshine. With the way you look tonight, there's not a single person who will even dare to look away from you. I am sure all eyes will be on you, and I am happy. Tonight is just as much about you as it is about me because I want to show off the woman I fell in love with, and I want to show everyone our love," he says with his hand on your belly.

"Okay, okay! Now let's go before I have to reapply my mascara!" you tell him with a breathy laugh, trying hard to fight against the tears threatening to spill at his beautiful confession. He agrees, and with one last goodbye to your twins and Maria, you're out the door and on your way to the premiere.

"Are you ready to walk down the red carpet, Sunshine?" Tony asks as he stands before you, his hands resting on your face to calm you down. The nerves are soaring through your body, and he helps to calm you down.

"Y-yeah, let's do this," you answer him after a deep breath, and he places a small peck on your lips before letting your face go and grabbing your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. After one last reassuring smile, you two walk onto the carpet, flashing lights everywhere.

The hand not holding Tony's rests comfortably on your belly, showing it off even more. Photographers left and right are shouting your husband's name, and he seems to revel in every bit of attention he can get. You look over at him, only to find him staring back at you with a beaming smile, and you lean in for a small kiss.

When your lips touch his, the crowd around you goes wild, making you feel loved. Of course, you have seen all the articles about you and Tony being Hollywood's power couple, but it only seems real once you attend events like this together. Far too soon for your liking, he pulls away, ready to move on to the next part of the carpet. What he does there, however, completely catches you by surprise, and you will look back on these photos with a huge smile later.

Tony sinks to his knees in front of you, his face level with your belly as he peppers it with a generous amount of kisses everywhere. His hands stroke it softly, and you can't help but laugh at your husband's weird antics.

It's no surprise he's proud of the fact that you're pregnant because of him, and this only intensifies it. Before getting up, he places his head against your belly for a few seconds with his eyes closed, taking in the moment. It's just you, him, and your beautiful baby boy in your belly - the rest of the world has fallen outside your little bubble.

"I love you so much, Sunshine," he tells you before placing one last kiss on your lips and moving on, ready for the interview parts of the red carpet. When you encounter the first interviewer, they immediately discuss what Tony has just done.

"So, Y/N, what did you think of Tony's actions just now?" the woman asks, and you laugh loudly before answering, shaking your head in response.

"Honestly, I wouldn't have expected anything else. Let's be honest: we all know he's a little crazy but also deeply in love. Not just with me, but also with our baby," you answer, and Tony nods in agreement, unable to take his eyes off you.

"How does it feel to be attending tonight's celebration with your beautiful wife?" she asks Tony, who blushes lightly as the woman calls you his wife. Sometimes, he still can't believe he got so lucky with you, and to call you his wife is the cherry on top for him.

"It feels amazing! She's there for me no matter what, during good times and bad, through rain and sun, and I wouldn't want it any other way. She's doing a great job building her career as a real estate agent while carrying our third baby, and I'm incredibly proud of everything she does. She's the love of my life, and every day, I thank my lucky stars for being hers," Tony tells the lady, who can't stop smiling at his answer.

"To have her by my side on nights like these is something I will never take for granted, of course, and I'm always deeply thankful for her, and I can't wait to grow old with her!" Tony finishes the interview before leaning in and kissing you again, this time more passionately than before.

"I love you so much, Sunshine," he tells you, and you tell him how much you also love him. This night will be unforgettable, and you're looking forward to many more nights like this one, as long as you can have your husband by your side.

#tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #tony stark x female!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark fluff #young tony stark #young tony stark fanfiction #young tony stark fanfic #young tony stark one shot #young tony stark imagine #young tony stark x female reader #young tony stark x reader #young tony stark x y/n #young tony stark fluff

[desomniis]

to ask for your hand (I just pray that its mine) | Chapter 2 excerpt

WIP | 2/5 | 12,099 words | Accidental Marriage in Vegas AU | Fluff | Angst | Drama

‼️WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD‼️

As Carlos slid into the seat next to him, Charles shouted over the music, "You're cheating!" Eyes wide with feigned anger.

Carlos blinked in genuine surprise. “What?! How am I cheating?!” Always the honest Virgo, never been one to play dirty—at least, not that Charles was aware of.

“You already got your kiss today,” Charles said, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

A smug grin spread across Carlos' face. "Well, I deserve more!" he declared, boldly capturing Charles' face between his hands and smashing their lips together.

“Oi! Stop this,” Pierre told them off, his tone askance. “I haven’t spin the bottle yet and you are kissing already? This is not fair eh?”

The crowd supported him. Charles, with a mix of reluctance and amusement, gently pushed Carlos back, rolling his eyes. “Alright, just spin it, Pierre.”

“Good, everybody wants to have their turn, eh? You don’t just skip,” Pierre said, pointing an accusatory bottle of tequila at him before setting it on the table

Before the bottle could stop spinning, Carlos suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him away from their table. They stumbled along the way, the world spinning around them. Carlos took him to a secluded corner of the floor, next to an empty small round table.

“Cahlos, what are you doing?”

“Say my name again,” Carlos demanded, placing his drink on the table, resting both his hands on Charles hips.

Charles chuckled. “What?”

“Again,” he pressed, his blown-out eyes meandering from Charles’ lips to his eyes. He was totally out of it.

"Caaah-looos," Charles drew out his name.

“I like how you say it,” he said, lips quirking up into a satisfied smirk.

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I always say it like that. Why are you telling me now?”

"Because now when I hear you call me, I remember this," he pointed at a reddish-purple mark just visible beneath the collar of his white shirt.

Charles snickered. He did do that. Although he expected Carlos to hide it more, not wanting anyone to see it. “Ah. It’s getting worse,” he said, leaning in for a closer look.

“And who’s fault? huh?” Carlos grinned, pushing Charles against the wall, caging him in.

Charles’ face, chest, neck, his whole body suddenly felt warm—no, hot. “What the hell, Carlos,” he said, a hand against Carlos' chest, their faces inches apart.

Carlos' eyes bore into him. "Kiss me,” he whispered, immediately softening his demand with a, “please.”

Should he? He’s drunk. Really drunk. It didn’t feel right. But those sinful lips and his expectant eyes, how could he resist those?

Putain.

It started with a gentle peck: one on the cheek, two on the lips. Then Carlos took it further, as he always did, softly tugging at the hair at the back of his head, his tongue effortlessly sliding into his mouth as if it belonged there. It made Charles' head spin, how easily Carlos opened him up. And as if that wasn't enough, Carlos yanked his hair, exposing his neck, running his tongue along the usual trail.

“Carlos," he moaned as Carlos' scorching tongue slithered from the bottom of his Adam's apple to the spot under his ear, savouring every inch of his skin and leaving him breathless. Carlos then tugged his head to the other side and planted delicate kisses along his neck, whispering sweet nothings.

On his collarbone, he muttered, "Charles, sei così bellissimo, you are so beautiful," he whispered.

On his neck, Carlos whispered, "Podría perderme en tus ojos para siempre, I could get lost in your eyes forever."

On his jaw, Carlos admitted, “I’m glad I kissed you,”

On his lips, Carlos confessed, "Your laugh makes my chest ache."

Charles pulled back, concerned. “What? Why?” he asked.

“Because it makes me too happy,” he explained with an idiotic smile.

Charles barked out a laugh. “You are very drunk Carlos. I don’t think you know what you are saying.”

“It’s true,” he said, going back to where he left off.

Fuck. Carlos felt good. Too good. If he doesn’t stop he was going to get—

Charles nudged him away. “We should go back,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Carlos asked, eyes concerned.

“Nothing. I just want—they might be looking for us.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Carlos groaned. “I just want to be with you here.” He went in for another kiss but Charles flinched back as he felt his crotch touch his. Well, shit. Now he knew.

Read the whole chapter here. Ask me questions!

#mine #my fics #TAFYH #16 #charles leclerc #55 #Carlos Sainz #1655 #Charlos #Accidental Marriage #Wild night in vegas

[honey-ca]

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: modern au, female x female, oral (fm), sex toys, admiration

"I-I can't take it anymore" Lily took it upon herself to lift your head sharply to let you know.

"Mmg, just a little more" you replied licking your lips.

You had lost count of how many orgasms you had given her, after she will come with the great news that she had gotten a high position in the Ministry of Magic, you decided to give her a reward for such an effort. That had been 3 hours...

You tucked your head back into her thighs and with the hand that wasn't gripping her waist, you started stroking her clit.

"No, no ah!" Lily stirred "I'm going to-I'm going to... " The words wouldn't come out of her mouth causing a smile to spread across your face. You quickly pulled away eliciting a moan from her.

"What are you doing?" she whined.

"Mm, don't be a brat" you grabbed one of her nipples and twisted it.

Seconds later you got up and opened the cupboard the two of you shared; you pulled a pink box out of the cupboard. You heard a sigh from Lily, causing you to snort with laughter. You sat down next to her and opened the box.

"What would you like us to wear today, Miss Ministry?" you asked lasciviously.

Lily sat up and with wide, teary eyes began to stare at the box full of toys. In less than 30 seconds she picked up the large double dildo. They didn't use it much, but you knew that when they did they both went to heaven.

"That'll be the one" you placed a kiss on her forehead "Top or bottom?"

"I want to ride you" she whispered with red cheeks.

Happily you put the box aside, stood where Lily was and sat up. Lily stood on top of your thighs with the dildo in her hand.

"Blessed muggle contraptions" you thought.

Lily pulled back a little so she could see your dripping pussy. She took one of the tips and rubbed it up and down. You shudder when you feel it, in this time all you had done with yourself had been stroking yourself but you were so focused on Lily that you forgot about yourself.

"Lily..., get it in now," you pleaded in rapt pleasure.

Lily sonrió ante tu súplica y comenzó a empujarlo hacia adentro, tus pies se encogieron por la intrusión y cuando Lily se detuvo, liberaste todo el aire contenido en tus pulmones. Una vez que Lily hubo asimilar lo que era suficiente para ella, se detuvo y se colocó encima. Levantó sus rodillas y ella misma dirigió el otro extremo a su coño rojo, realmente estaba mucho más hinchado y rojo que el tuyo. Definitivamente un placer para tus ojos.

Una vez que Lily insertó fácilmente el consolador en ella, se desplomó completamente en tus brazos buscando afecto. Sonriendo, agarraste las caderas de Lily y comenzaste a moverte en círculos. Lily sintiendo que empezaste a moverte también, y en un ataque de confianza se apoyó en tus hombros y comenzó a saltar arriba y abajo.

"Oh- oh, y/n!" Lily shouted euphorically.

You just enjoyed the view, seeing Lily in that state was always a treat. When you felt the dildo slide into your G-spot you screamed with pleasure and grabbed Lily tightly and hid your face in her shoulder. She hugged your head and began to jump up and down more roughly and deeply.

"Lily, I-I'm not going to take it anymore," you confessed softly into her shoulder.

Lily let out a small harmonic laugh and hugged you tighter.

"Me too, sweetheart" Lily pressed a kiss to your forehead "The two of us together."

Lily brought one of her hands to your clit already red from the friction and you brought it back to hers as well. The two of you together masturbating each other was enough for both of you to come. Lily collapsed in your arms still with the dildo in her, adjusting and resting.

You stroked Lily's silky orange hair proud of her and all she had accomplished.

"Lily, darling," you whispered softly.

Lily looked up with tired eyes and red cheeks.

"I'm so proud of you," you finished by placing a kiss on her nose.

#fanfic #smut #hp marauders #+18 or +adult only #the marauders #lily evans #lily evans potter #lily evans x reader #lily evans supremacy #marauder era #lily potter #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black #Lily Evans lesbian

[moiteneia]

Cell’s Moving Castle: AU Guapoduo.

g!Cellbit é um bruxo fugitivo. Vivendo escondido em seu castelo animado, possuí inúmeros nomes, disfarces e muita magia. Anos atrás fez um acordo com uma estrela, trocando sua alma e coração por proteção, mas aos poucos esse acordo, assim como fogo, está enfraquecendo, juntamente com a sua essência (a sua própria magia está se voltando contra ele).

Sempre acompanhado de dois garotinhos, Pepito e Richas, ele está a procura de algo ou alguém que ele viu em seu passado e que prometeu a ele salvar seu coração.

g!Roier é um jovem chapeleiro que vive sob a sombra de seu irmão. g!Doied é um gênio, o orgulho dos pais deles e vive no luxo e na glória, sendo treinado para lutar na guerra que assola o reino deles (o Rei g!Philza desapareceu e o reino acusa o reino vizinho - Capybara - de tê-lo sequestrado). 

Tudo corria bem, g!Roier se escondia das bombas, costurava chapéus e se escondia de todas as visitas de sua família. Tudo ótimo! 

Até que em uma certa tarde ele quase é atacado por dois soldados mau intencionados, mas, por sorte, alguém veio ajuda-lo.

-Guapito, onde você estava? Procurei por você por todo lugar!-Um rapaz loiro de enormes olhos azuis o pegou pelo braço e começou a leva-lo para longe dos dois. -Segure-se firme.-Ele sussurrou.

Momentos depois, agarrando-se no braço do outro, viu seus pés se afastando do chão.

XxX 

Naquela noite, g!Roier foi amaldiçoado por uma bruxa invejosa pela atenção que o Bruxo havia dado a ele e agora, sua aparência, tal qual sua autoestima, se deteriorou, parecendo mais um velho.

Agora, ele terá que fugir da cidade e ir em busca de refúgio…Talvez um certo castelo seja o lugar certo!

xXx ENG XxX

AU Guapoduo:

g!Cellbit is a fugitive wizard. Living hidden in his lively castle, he has countless names, disguises and lots of magic.

Years ago he made an agreement with a star, exchanging his soul and heart for protection, but little by little this agreement, like fire, is weakening, along with his essence (his own magic is turning against him).

Always accompanied by two little boys, Pepito and Richas, he is looking for something or someone he saw in his past and who promised him to save his heart.

g!Roier is a young hatmaker who lives under his brother's shadow.

g!Doied is a genius, the pride of their parents and lives in luxury and glory, being trained to fight in the war that ravages their kingdom (King g!Philza has disappeared and the kingdom accuses the neighboring kingdom - Capybara - of having him kidnapped). Everything went well, g!Roier hid from bombs, sewed hats and hid from all his family's visitors. Everything's good!

Until one afternoon he is almost attacked by two soldiers with bad intentions, but, luckily, someone came to help him.

-Guapito, where were you? I looked for you everywhere!-A blond boy with huge blue eyes took him by the arm and started to take him away from the two. -Hold on tight.-He whispered.

Moments later, clinging to the other's arm, he saw his feet moving away from the ground.

XxX

That night, g!Roier was cursed by a witch jealous of the attention the Wizard had given him and now, his appearance, like his self-esteem, deteriorated, looking more like an old man. Now, he will have to escape the city and go in search of refuge...Maybe a certain castle is the right place!

#qsmp #q!cellbit #qsmp cellbit #headcanon #q!roier #guapoduo #spiderbit #cellbit qsmp #qsmp doied #qsmp roier #AUGuapoduo #qcellbit #qroier #guapoduo au #guapoduo qsmp #spiderbit au

[fanfictionroxs]

HOTD greek mythology thoughts - Harwin as Hades

I love imagining Harwin as the sort of Hades of westeros. A chill dude. Lives in a haunted house where spirits come & go freely (Harrenhall). He enjoys their company even though he has limited spiritual connection to the other side.. or maybe he's just good at pretending while near the living to avoid frightening them and to avoid people gossiping about him. Harwin has no control over the dead, no one does. They are simply his silent companions whose unintelligible whispers have long become his comfort. Alys is the one who actually befriends them, plays with them, learns spells from them, unafraid to be perceived a 'witch'. Harwin tries to be show more restraint, but Lyonel still takes him away at a young age to King's Landing, hoping that if his son has more distance from that house and his older sister, he wouldn't go mad.

Still, Harwin's best friend is an 8 year old boy called Reggie Rivers who sometimes changes into a 22 year old bard singing the most melancholic yet melodious tunes. He is a lonely spirit who has been haunting the halls of Harrenhall longer than Harwin's father has been alive (in canon, I imagine Reggie waits for him to return for years and then he doesn't let the doors open when the fire starts so that Harwin would never be able to leave their house again and they could stay together in the afterlife. The lonely boy comforts his crying spirit and promises him that his sons would be returned to him in less than a decade).

Instead of Cerebrus, a three headed dog, Harwin has his three sons Jace, Luke & Joffrey. Joffrey is the first one to see a ghost despite being the youngest. It's because Joffrey Sr.'s ghost often hovered around him protectively, adopting him from the afterlife while smiling longingly at Laenor. Harwin is surprised because Dragon magic keeps the dead away pretty much.. he never expected his sons to have that side of a Strong in them despite all of them looking like him.

Rhaenyra is his reverse Persephone (more on the reverse part at the end para!) without the incest. Funny how the incest gets eradicated despite it being an hotd AND greek myth au. Though now I'm imagining how much Rhaenyra would enjoy calling Harwin 'uncle' lmfao.

Laenor is totally Poseidon because he's a Velaryon and has a good relationship with Harwin. Larys can be Zeus because shitty rapist little brothers. Alys, along with his other two sisters as Demeter, Hestia and Hera. I like the thought of Alys as another Hades.. or Demeter, since Alys's powers have a more broad spectrum.

Now imagine the Hades and Persephone kidnapping thing but reversed. Rhaenyra kidnaps Harwin, and Alys is pissed because that dragon bitch stole her little bro and decides to cause havok that brings westeros to its knees. So, ultimately Rhaenyra has to compromise so that Harwin spends half an year at the Red Keep and the other half at Harrenhall, keeping both women happy and less likely to commit murder.

PS VERY IMPORTANT! He can punch ghosts in the face! Harwin is the 'breakbones' of both the living world and beyond!

#hotd au #fanfictionroxs writes #house of the dragon #harwin strong #alys rivers #jacaerys targaryen #lucerys velaryon #joffrey velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #laenor velaryon #larys strong #rhaewin #hotd greek mythology au #lyonel strong #hotd #rhaenyra x harwin #harwin breakbones

[ailingwriter]

18 Nobles AU (Part 1)

(Why do I do this to myself)

This was partially born out of my other AUs, partially out of some of my disappointments with Gen 8.

Basically, this is an AU where instead of 10 nobles, divided between two clans and five areas, there are 18 nobles divided across three clans and six areas. This is probably going to need multiple posts, so I'll stick with new Pokémon and new Nobles for now. Even so, it's gonna be long so I'll stick it undrr the Read More.

New Pokémon!

Every Pokémon from Gen V onwards that were not in SwSh are present in the 18 Nobles AU (Don't ask how.)

Every Pokémon in the Platinum Sinnoh Dex that were excluded from Hisui in canon are retained here.

Since the Gen V starters are covered by the "Gen V onwards but not in SwSh" but the Gen II and VII starters aren't, those starters are added in anyway to prevent Gen V getting more attention than the other generations the Hisui starters originate from. However, Gen II, V, VI, and VII starters cannot be found until the post game.

Lastly, a few other Pokémon are included due to connection with the new Nobles.

New Nobles:

Lady Akaryu (Platinum Clan, Obsidian Fieldlands). Originating from my Akaryu AU, this is the only noble to be entirely original to Hisui, neither evolving from nor being a regional variant of an existing Pokémon. She takes a role similar to Lilligant or Avalugg, being the protector of the Platinum Clan settlement. She is Dragon-Fairy type, and carries the Pixie Plate.

Lady Swanna (Platinum Clan, Crimson Mirelands) Look, I know that Swan Boats are not in any way related to Hokkaido, but I was struggling okay? Lady Swanna is the first Platinum Clan noble you face. She is Steel-Water type, and gives you the Iron Plate.

Lady Paracide (Platinum Clan, Jade Flatlands) Originating from my Paras Whisperer AU, Lady Paracide serves as the Ride Pokémon for the new Jade Flatlands (which I will cover in a later post). She can stretch upwards to help you ford treacherous material or spring upwards to give you a burst of elevation. She is Bug-Ghost type and gives you the Spooky Plate.

Lord (Zangoose Evo) (Diamond Clan, Jade Flatlands) Look, I'm not great with Pokémon names, okay? This lord, along with Hisuian Zangoose, is Normal-Ice type and gives you the Blank Plate. Of course, he is closely tied to...

Lady (Seviper Evo) (Pearl Clan, Jade Flatlands) What else? Seviper have been chased off from the Hisuian mainland until recently. Despite making a comeback, they seem to be much less at odds with Hisuian Zangoose. This Lady is found near what will one day become Iron Island. She is Dragon-Water type, while Hisuian Seviper are pure Dragon type, and she gives you the Draco Plate.

Lady (Medicham Evolution) (Platinum Clan, Cobalt Coastlands) This evolution line is entirely based on the Dragon Warrior trope in many martial arts films, taking such a concept much more literally. This Lady resides inland, in a small cove in the northwest corner of the map. (By the way the maps are bigger.) She, along with Hisuian Meditite and Medicham, are Fighting-Dragon type, and she gives you the Fist Plate.

Lady Galvantula (Platinum Clan, Coronet Highlands) Loosely originating from my post about Emmet introducing Joltik to Hisui and them becoming an invasive species, Lady Galvantula is a regional variant of Galvantula that has adapted to an environment with low amounts of natural electricity. She is Bug-Fairy type and gives you the Insect Plate (Kleavor gives you the Stone Plate instead).

Lady (Noctowl Evolution) (Platinum Clan, Alabaster Icelands) This is the only new noble who outright replaces an existing Ride Noble, namely Braviary. She is Dark-Flying type and gives you the Dread Plate.

#my aus #aus #18 nobles au #akaryu au #paras whisperer au #if anyone has ideas for names for the unnamed nobles please feel free to share #first thoughts

[luvly-writer]

“You are my sunshine”

Part 40: This love of ours

——————————————-

Jason Todd x Latina! Reader

Social media Au

Status: Finished

Warnings: writing between pictures!

Author’s Note: AND A THIRD ONE!?!?!? We on a roll todayyyyyy!!!!! ENJOY!

Taglist: @lorosette @nanas-teatime @izukuisbaby @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @graywrites5567 @addictedtothefictionalworld @halleest @randobeetlehouse @prettyacademia00 @tamimemo @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @mxtokko

Series Masterlist:

——————————————-

a beach day was precisely what Jason and you needed after all the excitement of last week.

your trip had been going amazing and it was your last week here before going back to Gotham.

The first week you had spent it touring the island. Sometimes your mom would join you both, but it was mainly Jason and you. You wanted to show him all of the places you loved from your home. From beaches to plazas to San Juan and so forth, you showed everything you could to him and he adored it. Absolutely loved it. From the food, to the people, yo the music, Jason was at awe of your island. Spanish was rolling of his tongue easily and well let’s just say it was very hard to keep your hands off each other. The first week was amazing

The second, Jason met the rest of your family and boy did they love him. It is no secret that Jason is a sight for sore eyes. 6 foot tall, body that look like it was hand sculpted by Michelangelo himself to resemble a greek god, black hair with the white streak, dashing teal captivating eyes, straight white teeth, and now sporting a tan that made his skin glow, the Caribbean looked great on Jason. It’s no secret why sometimes you would wake up a little too late for things with you body a little too sore (wink wink). And because of that, the women in your family went wild. The second you brought this tank of a man home, you older cousins were left with their jaws dropped and your tias were already whispering with excitement. You had this one tia who was constantly competing with your mom for reasons you learned not to question long ago, who would constantly compare your achievements with one of your cousins, Sabrina, who was your same age to see who could one you the other and because of that your mother was busting with smugness. Her architect daughter who was a Wayne scholarship student and is a self made woman just brought home a man, that was not just attractive but the son of Bruce Wayne himself. You had warned Jason of this and seeing it himself, he was throughly amused. Oh his ego was through the ROOF. Your younger cousins were looking at him in awe, the girls with a small blush and the boys with admiration. Your tips were already smirking to themselves, thinking of which stories to share of their precious niece in order to welcome the new man into the family. And your grandmother, bless her heart, she clapped in happiness and rushed ti hug you both. “Ay mi niiiiiiña, desde cuando no te veo! Ay lo mucho q te e extrañado” she says as she hugs you tightly and you swear your heart fills with so much joy it will burst. She then turns to look at Jason and brings him for a tight hug and gushes over him, making him red in the face. “Ay pero que muchacho tan guapo! Dios te bendiga, espero q tengas hambre q hay mucho para comer” she said and Jason responded bashfuly, “Bendicion, dama, muchas gracias por recibirme en su casa”. Hearing the perfect spanish roll of him, big part of your family let out a sigh in relief. You smile at the exchange and once your abuelita leaves, you introduced him to the rest of your family. They adored him. The smaller kids would take turns on his shoulders, wanting to feel tall, the teens were all asking him questions. They boys thought he was the coolest thing to ever exist and the girls couldn’t stop telling you hot he was, making you laugh. Overall, it was such a nice night. At some point, you were too busy with everyone else, that you hadn’t notice Jason take you grandma and your mom outside for a sec.

You mom and your grandmother both stared up at him as he cleared his throat. “(your moms name) um (your grandmas name), las saque un momento por que quería pedirles su bendición para casarme con Yn, i know you have all been through so much and i admire your resilience, love, determination and strength, because of that, siento que son las personas indicadas para pedirles esto” he said and your mom brought her hands to her face, tears wanting to go down. You grandmother sniffed and took his hands smiling she said, “i never thought i’d live to see the day my darling granddaughter got married, thank you for making her so happy, tienes mi bendición”. With that she brought him to a hug, whipped her tears and left, leaving Jason alone with your mom.

Your mom smiled and whipped her tears, “Bueno, you are a good boy Jason, Yn has told me about everything, the whole fighting thing included” at that Jason opened his eyes but your mother shushed him before he could interrupt ,”don’t worry, cariño, confía que your secret is safe with me, plus im her mother coño, she can’t keep anything away from me. You are a good man, Jason. Sometimes we have to do immoral things to keep the one we love safe and that doesn’t make us bad. You and your family protect the city and the world i assume correct?” Jason nods and your mother continues, “then all i ask as i give you this blessing is to protect my little girl with the same passion and determination you put into your job. Esa niña es mi mundo, I got her out of the darkness, please keep her out.” She squeezes Jason’s hand and pulls him for a hug, Jason whispers in her ear, “I will protect her with everything that i have in this world, until my dying breath” and you mom pulls back whiles her tears and laughs. “Well, why don’t we go back to the party, i’m sure we will have even more reasons to celebrate soon” she says with a wink and both laugh. They walk back to the party where the celebrations continued.

After that party, everytime Jason and you were together, your mother and grandmother would send knowing excited looks to each other, waiting for you to make the announcement. The week carried on, with Jason and you enjoying time with your family. You went to the beach even more, visited el Junque, and went on road trips around the island. Your family adored him

Finally the third week arrived, and you both decided to stay the first two days in the hotel, it was at walking distance to a beach so you both had decided that on the second day you would go and have a picnic at the beach.

You had taken pictures, gotten in the water, laid down and read a book together, kissed, cuddled, ordered a pizza, the day couldn’t get any better.

You were busy trying to take pictures of the beach to send to the group chat you had with Nola, Barbara, Cass, and Steph, with your back to Jason.

“you know, some day, we should bring the whole Wayne Family here, they would love it! I mean now that you know my family, they will want to meet yours, and I just know Juan Pablo will want to show Damian all of the animals en la finca! Omg they would get along so well Jason! Although i would be a bit weary with Dick and his flirtatious tendencies with the girls, oh Lord they would be insoportable. What do you think?” you say as you start to laugh but stop quickly when you hear silence. “Jay” you say and turn around to find Jason standing there nervously, eyes watery, “oh my..baby qué pasó?” you say and Jason clears his throat.

“Yn, um you know, you flipped my life upside down the minute you came to it. I never thought I deserved good things. A poor kid from crime ally, who had the luck of getting adopted by a billionaire only to be killed a few years later by a maniac clown, and once I was resuscitated, i believed I deserved nothing. I believed that love was a myth, that love was a lie and that that lie would never ever deceive me. I have fought, I have killed, I have wronged and hurt people, and frankly, there were times I didn’t think i was a good man. Yes, my family has helped a lot, and i recognize their love for me, but you my dear, you were a breathe of fresh air in a world where i had been drowning for a long time. You were that light in the darkness, the calm in the storm. You are my sunshine in the midst of the darkness. You showed me i’m allowed to have good things and be loved. You helped with mending the bonds that had been broken with my family, you helped mend the heart that was broken by life, you helped bring life to the shell of a man i found myself being sometimes.” Jason sniffed, tears running down his face. You could feel your very own tears going down your cheeks, one of your hands was on you chest, above your heart, feeling the accelerated thumps of your heartbeat, and the other was covering your opened mouth. “Baby, mi niña bonita, mi princesa, mi sol, mi luna, mis estrellas, mi mundo, mi universo, you have bewitched me, body, soul, mind and heart, and I love you. I feel as if i’ve loved you from the moment we first talked and i wouldn’t be surprised if I did.” with that Jason got down to one knee, making you gasp and let out more tears, “Yn, will you do me the biggest honor and make me the happiest man alive in this whole fucking galaxy, and marry me?” You couldn’t form words and just smiled and nodded as more tears left your eyes. Jason stands up, picks you up, and kisses you, holding you as if you were going to disappear from his arms. He slips the ring to you finger and you laugh, “YES YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES!” you scream as you look at him in the eyes, happiness radiating of you both. “Te amo, Jason Peter Todd Wayne! Con todo mi ser!” you tell him and he nuzzles his nose to yours and responds, “y yo te amo a ti, Yn Ln soon to be Miss Yn Todd Wayne”. It turns out that this day could get better.

You laugh and quickly call your mom by facetime. Once she answers, you show her your ring and she screams of joy, showing your Aunt and grandmother, who both cheer. You laugh and thank them on their congratulations. Once you hang up, you take pictures and post it. Oh the batfam was going to flip! They had been leaving hints of you both getting married for the longest time and it seems their wishes were met.

Jason laughs as you both pick up your stuff and return to your room. You both shower and change for the fancy dinner being hosted by the hotel and laugh at the comments his siblings and Nola were leaving. That night, TRUST that both of you were left quite satisfied and fulfilled with your after engagement celebrations once you got to your room ;) ;)

<3

#batfam #batfamily #batfamily social media #batman #batkids #batfam socialmedia au #batfam x you #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #damian wayne #jason todd imagine #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason peter todd #jason wayne #jason todd x latina reader #dc social media au #dc batman #dc red hood #dc reader insert

[malkaviian]

me podés explicar por qué soñé con un juego al estilo omori en el que seba era el prota, damian su compañero y eris era el jefe final

#igual; cada tanto podías manejar a damian e incluso a la misma eris #especialmente si era para vencer sus 'something' #que por supuesto no me acuerdo cuales eran #también en la batalla contra eris aparecían los sobrevivientes del au de dr; recuerdo que matt servía para alentar a seba y damian #pero no eran parte de la batalla como tal #matt así de 'you can do it!! :D' a lo pep talk de aubrey que aumentaba un poco de hp #lilith whispers #los sueños de claire luego de que el juego de asesinatos haya terminado /j

[argent-l-p]

Facets of a Shattered Memory II

Series based on my interpretation of the Encanto Madremonte AU by the lovely @c-rose2081

Pt. 1

Summary: Starting from where part one left off, we get a look into Isa's life following her escape from Casita and what the next five years of her life were like.

WARNINGS: Blood, Violence, Injury, And A Bit of Death

______________________________________________

The first thing that came to her was a memory, it was the only thing that she could say with certainty was the first thing she could remember. It was dark, voices were speaking above her and she was being held. In her ear sounded a choir speaking in unison, the voice high and like the rustling of trees “Amor, cuando despiertes el mundo será un lugar nuevo, pero necesitas saber esto. Tu eras amada, tan amada que no lo podemos describir.” 

Another voice, lower with the sound of rumbling mountains echoed below it, “Tu nombre es Isa, nosotras the llamamos Amor. Tu eres nuestra y nosotros somos tuyas, nunca dudes eso.” 

She felt movement at her side and a hand stroke her cheek before she woke up for the first time. 

(Months of waiting, the heavens holding their breath as the hour draws closer, the jungle quiet in the space where glass shards fused with molten gold, the result buried beneath their roots waiting to wake up as the body is changed.) 

It was warm, not suffocatingly so, but enough that her body melted into a languid stretch, slow and pleased. She could feel the soft bedding beneath her and the dips of whatever lay beneath the barrier, it was firm and unyielding, but the nest added a softness for her aching body to relax into. Time felt like it stood still and passed so slowly all at once, the only suggestion of it going by was the feeling of the arm trapped under her body falling asleep. 

Oh.  

What a wonder. 

It was feeling that came to her first, muscles unused for so long aching as bones moved from their place of rest, the stretch of her body triggering sensation and she felt the soft friction of plants against her skin. She noted the gaps in sensation and moved her hand down to feel where her thigh met her hip, feeling the difference in texture and the way it would not bend under the force of her fingers. She felt where it began and where it ended and, in her heart, she knew this was something good; Something meant to keep hurt far and away from her, though she didn’t quite know why she knew, only that she did. 

(Somewhere in the depths of her mind, an echo of a forgotten emotion drifted like smoke. The faintest after image of someone's wail and the pulling on her body. As sudden as its emergence it flickered, pulled into golden light, and before it could be registered it was gone.) 

The tearing of the leaves beneath her body brought sound to her ears and with great speed her hands clapped soundly over her ears. It was so loud, the texture of the noise itself grating on her newly awoken senses before she slowly pulled them away, adjusting to the new input. As she sat up and opened her eyes for the first time, they moved in tandem with her ears, and it startled her to feel the muscles move of their own accord. With slightly unsteady fingertips she brushed along the shell and traced their pointed shape, wondering at the newness if her own body. Her eyes never stopped tracking her surroundings, it was dark and dim, but as she began to look for the source of light illuminating the space, she realized that there was none and that she could still see despite it. 

It was at this moment that she heard the faintest whisper next to her ear and even if it was sudden, all she felt was love and warmth and gold- 

“Levántate Amor. Te tienes que levantar para ver las estrellas.” 

And in her mind, she saw a vast expanse of dark blue skies and hundreds upon thousands of lights filling everywhere she could see. That was something she knew she had to see, a deep-seated longing to greet that which felt like a promise connecting her to the light-ridden sky. Determination filled her and blood roared in her ears as she pushed herself up, a slight snarl forming in her lips as she began to look for a way out of her ben of vines and leaves. It was then that she heard the singing for the first time, moving from the subtle notes it had been only seconds before to an ascending choir, rising in volume until it was all she could hear. 

Isa looked down and there under bare feet were coiling vines, some coming from her skin and others from the roots she had been cradled in, climbing up her legs. She could hear them as if they were only an extension of her soul and if she focused her sight on them, she could faintly see golden strings tangling in the movement of their length. Within her she felt something stir, a primal knowledge that they would move if she told them to, not just the vines but the roots of whatever it was that they came from, and with that she pulled on the golden light within her watched as her surroundings exploded into sudden movement all at once. 

The vines sighed and wrapped tightly around her as the roots rose in unison, their laughter low, their creaking heralding the opening of the ceiling above and then there was light.  

It wasn’t bright by any means, no, but soft and ghostly. She watched, her pupils dilating, as the light grew larger and the opening wider, until she could crawl out and then her senses were filled with the sounds of a choir’s breathy laughter and fond sighs. It was intense and she closed her eyes to center herself and then looked up into the dark sky and marveled at the sight of golden chords stringing the stars together. 

(In the spaces that were and yet were not, the heavens finally quieted the remaining wails of the mourning stars. They looked down at the girl who had been mortal and yet was now more Other, more like them, than her kin. They saw golden eyes where there had been the brown of her mother and her skin was covered in the Jungle and the Earth’s claim.) 

As the world took its first breath in the aftermath of what was avoided, a child and those who loved her stood at the beginning of a path that fate had not touched. Far away in a living house, a mother held the remains of her daughter's clothing to her chest and mourned a life lost. Months of waiting for news ending in the tragedy of her loss, but in the wake of this pain a new future began to form. The golden light in the woman’s womb pulsed and the child’s fate was linked firmly to the stargazer in the mountains. 

(The stars looked down and for a moment their light twinkled in concert across the sky, light dancing across the world. The road would not be easy, they saw, but in the grand tapestry of their world this change in what was to come was better than it had been before.) 

Isa’s ear flicked over to listen to something beside her ear and with one last final glance at the sky above, she moved deep into the forest, quickly disappearing. The only thing giving away what had happened in the clearing was the still open hole in the ground and then it began to close as the animals in the surrounding vegetation began to sing again. It was when the moon above began to dip from its zenith that everything returned to how it had been only hours before, and the only marking left was the overturned dirt at the roots of the tree. 

(Sometimes, a child lives, and the world grieves for one less person lost to fate.)  

As the days passed, Isa learned how to traverse her surroundings, gradually moving like the predator she had become. On hands and feet, she learned to stalk as the jaguars did and in the trees, she adapted their movements. Weeks passed and then a month went by, her mind and body adjusting to the world around her, but all throughout it, she could hear the gentle singing all around her as she ran through the green and when night came, she could hear that sweet voice again, a guide. 

“Mira la manera que se mueven mi Amor. Mira como sus garras se encajan en el arbol y haz lo también.” 

“Mi pequeno amor, ven al agua. Necesitas tomar algo, te va dar sed.” 

“Ven y siéntate en el sol, Isa. Te va ser bien.” 

It was always there when she needed to be reminded of her own limits and to teach her as she learned, sometimes layered with a deep bass from below or the whisper of another woman’s voice. They never scared her, not ever, instead it felt like the gentle caress of sunlight against her skin and every time it happened, she could feel the golden chords inside of her chest sway and she saw the plants around her grow. It fascinated her to no end, doing whatever she could to prolong the sight and the feeling, sometimes hours would pass by as her want for this was indulged. 

In some part of her soul, she felt like she should be ashamed of asking for this attention and in turn felt embarrassed for the time she spent lounging in it, but that thought was swept away before it could even reach full formation, the choir around her crooning assurances; she was a child still and none of what she wanted was too far out of reach. What she didn’t know was that as she slept in the cradles woven for her high up in the canopy, the Jungle raged and seethed as she restrained herself from bringing her wrath upon the head of Alma Madrigal. Her counterpart, the Earth, rumbled lowly green eyes sparking with the light of molten rock and far away, a volcano erupted slowly.  

(A constellation darkened for the grief they held for child who should never have felt wrong for wanting to be loved. Already her desperation for the slightest loving touch was enough to make them weep, a feeling echoed by their brothers and sisters around them.) 

The day came, months after emerging from that primordial womb, that she noticed a pattern with her surroundings. Without conscious thought she had been moving the plants around her at times when she needed them to follow her will; They were independent, yes, but they answered when she called.  

When it came time for her to learn about the gold in her chest, she listened as they told her to close her eyes and gasped as she felt the chords vibrate as if on the other end they had been plucked and played. It was different and new, but it felt right. Like whatever was doing it meant only to help and did so with love and care and warmth- 

From her right she heard the singing rise and fall, a voice breaking through the sound, telling her to focus and when she did, a rush of power coursed through her. It was warm and gold, chords sinking into her soul for the first time to bring forth the feeling of the tree beneath her and the branch she sat on, but only for a moment as she was brought back to focus on the chorus around her and the sweet voice calling her attention.  

She tugged when they told her to and imagined the branch she sat on bloom, fruit developing on imagined buds, heavy and ripe for picking. When she opened her eyes, she saw her vision made reality. Where the very end of the wood hung over open air, a white blossom began to rapidly form, its petals opening and from it, fruit grew. She had only enough time to register its rapid swell in size, when she realized it would fall under its own weight and lunged forward to catch it. The momentum of her movement almost sent her completely over the reach of the branch, but in the second it took for her doubt to manifest, she was caught by the branch rising beneath her.  

Fruit clutched in one hand and her opposite arm wrapped around the sturdy branch beneath, wide eyes looked down at what she made grow. Golden eyes lit up and a sharp grin spread across her face to replace the initial shock. She sat up as carefully as she could while observing the object in her hand and when she was sure she had balanced herself well, she took the fruit in both hands and brought it up close to her face. For a moment a hesitation came over her. What if it hurt her? She had not needed to eat since emerging from the nest and when she had needed to recuperate, only when she was truly exhausted, she laid where the sun graced the earth until she felt her energy return and drank water from the rivers when she felt thirsty. Even then, it was only when it was needed, so far only having done so twice in the months since being awoken, her exhaustion forcing her to rest and lightly doze in golden rays. 

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the giggling and fond sighs until she felt the slightest nudge, bringing her hand and the fruit closer to her mouth. Startled, she glanced towards where she felt gentle pressure, but saw nothing where familiar fingers pressed into bark and skin, the beginnings of vines growing ever to slightly. In the breeze she heard her protector murmur, “No tengas miedo, mi amor. Puedes comer.” 

And when she still hesitated, gentle hands cupped around her own and lips pressed to the crown of her head, the fruit brought to her mouth, and she took her first bite of food. At first, the skin of the fruit almost made her jerk back in surprise, the almost dry taste enough for her to not eat, but her canine pierced the barrier and suddenly something sweet dripped onto her tongue. Suffice to say she didn’t drop the fruit, but bit into it fully, pushing past the initial taste and tasting the meat inside and later when she climbed up into the trees to see where she was going, she noticed pollen falling from little flowers on her thigh. 

That was the first time she ate something of substance and though she didn’t need to eat at all, she still ate a bit every day. It was odd, she knew that the animals around her ate frequently, sometimes she would see predators taking kills larger than their bodies to eat in peace, but she never felt the hunger that they did. Did not feel the need to look for food the sate a pain in her stomach or to sink her teeth into something to bring a kill down, a predator without the need to feed. Isa was still young though, often being herded around by intangible forces and creaking trees, the plants around her hiding the small body learning to survive in a new world. 

Every moment spent under the vast star filled sky and weaving between ancient, sturdy trees brought its own lessons, but life is not always serene. Though the influence of the gods left Isa to learn her world, wide eyed wonder obscuring the inevitability of how the moments of life played out in dynamic melodies, a discordant note unavoidable. It came nearly a half year after the awakening, rain coming down on the canopy and thunder rumbling off in the distance clouds taking up the entire horizon. 

(A far-flung echo of a memory so faint only the vaguest feeling brought with it the notion of contained clouds and uniform weather. A childish chant of clear blue skies and the delighted shrieks of children playing in the sun, a whisper in the cry of the wind-) 

The crash of thunder and flash of lightning drew her attention above, the smell of rain and the coolness of the day enveloped her. She’d pulled herself up into the trees, the fog below obscuring her sight, only able to see so far ahead. Isa hummed as she set her sights on the far-off cliff-face, slightly hazy in the fog cover and mumbled to herself, her words carried off in the wind, “Ahi estas...” She’d been trekking for hours, the journey she’d been guided through longer than it would have been had she been older, often needing to stop, rest, and even eat more fruit to keep up her energy. That she’d made it this far, a third of the way, was a testament to how much she had grown in the past months. 

When she had awoken, she’d been akin to a newborn on shaky legs and sensitive senses, sometimes needing to be hidden away in a cocoon of secure vines when overwhelmed. Those early days were filled with rest, hidden by the jungle and the earth, listening to the chorus around her. As time had passed and she learned the limitations of her body, Isa had grown leaps and bounds, now able to traverse the landscape with occasional help from the roots and vines, having learned quickly that they followed her will after almost falling from a high tree and the entire tree having bent to cradle her. 

Another distant rumble shook Isa from her thoughts and she took a final glance to memorize the direction before scaling down and to the foggy jungle floor, her sight once again obscured and pointed ears flicking in all directions. With the canopy above already darkening the surroundings and the cloud cover overhead, it seemed as though the world had abruptly turned to night as she had reached the ground. With this is in mind she began to move forward, the world around her simply reduced to the sound of soft music, falling rain, and the passing vegetation. Maybe it was her inexperience with identifying distance through sound, the noise of thunder and rain, or simply a circumstance of being caught unawares, maybe a combination of them all, but Isa never noticed the pad of paws following her at a stalk. 

Isa was a predator, yes. Claws and canines were parts of her that she used, but she had never been in battle, she was young, inexperienced, and above all sheltered thus far in her existence; she was vulnerable, not unlike the young animals in the jungle, new to life and its challenges, but without someone to physically teach her despite her intangible choir. So, just like any other young animal, she was still prey to those so much more experienced than her. 

She didn’t have time to react, so it was when lightning flashed above, a small gap in the canopy allowing light to flash through, that she saw gleaming eyes and turned, eyes suddenly wide as she dropped low, watching the body of a jaguar leap over her. It yowled, a snarl pulling its lips back to reveal elongated fangs and she bared her own in return a sinister rattle erupting from her chest for the first time. It was sinister and it sounded like nothing like she’d ever heard before, but deep inside her, the gold in her soul burning and blinding, she knew that it was right.  

That same part of her, until then a slinking set of instincts from the shadows, began to stir and every part of her snarled at the threat being dealt. Quickly, that facet of her being woke up and suddenly she held her body with more grace, feet surer in their placement and muscles bunched up ready to spring; It was as if she had passed a threshold. The choir reached a crescendo, a pitch so high it felt like the stars themselves were singing and though she heard a note of distress in the song, she could also hear bolstering bass from the earth. 

It was then that her opponent visibly hesitated for a long moment, the change seen through its eyes letting her be seen as what she was; Something completely Other. But it was soon overcome and the hiss it let out as it bared its own fangs did not waver as eyes narrowed and fur stood on end. The plants growing in her skin shuddered and her ears pinned themselves to her skull, the space between herself and her opponent seeming to close until, like the lightning dancing above, they were on each other in seconds. 

(From above looking below, they saw what she did not feel, bark growing thicker like armor and where they cover her shoulders, it crawled up her neck. It covered her face in whorls, a mask and part of her body at the same time, meant to protect.) 

They collided with a slam, each gaining a violent purchase on the other and though the feline tried to snap down on her shoulder, Isa struck her hand into the side of its face. Where her nails had been sharp before, meant for the ease of climbing, they were dagger like now and the force of her strike sunk them deeply into their landing points. As it yowled, Isa’s grip grew tighter and her legs wrapped around its body, holding on as it began to move erratically, ignoring the hot pain of claws slicing into her back.  

It was only when they slammed into a tree that she let go and scrambled back, on her feet and hunched over golden eyes, a low and dangerous rumble vibrating deep in her chest. The jungle cat had backed up, staring at her and though the deep wounds on its face bled heavily, it did not falter and charged at her once again, its cry of challenge echoing off into the night. The fight did not end as quickly as it might have if Isa had been older and more experienced, but this heralded the beginning of who she would become and thought the jungle and her partner wanted to interfere, to help, the influence of fate held them back. 

Every blow was filed with sharp claws and the snap of teeth, bark crawling along Isa’s body, a slow growing armor that rose from her skin. There came a point where pain gave way to the numbing effects of adrenaline and she did not really feel the aching of her gained wounds, only feeling the way new ones appeared on her body as the battle went on. It became a blur of aggression and when she would later look back on the battle, she could not accurately say how long it lasted, only that she felt a bone deep tiredness. 

She’d had the upper hand for most of their battle having sliced three out of four legs to give her the benefit of its pain induced weakness. Where it seemed to struggle in the aftermath, she would worsen the injury count and she gained confidence when it continued to tire, but in her growing confidence she became blind to a fact she had witnessed so often; nothing was more dangerous than a cornered animal. Isa was doing well, yes, but she was so young, only really a child and by virtue she was not skilled in the art of combat nor defense. So, when she failed to see the desperation, failed to notice its gaze darting around and sharpening, she was not prepared for it to run into the vegetation. 

For a moment, she stood in disbelief and confusion, her tense stance loosening in the quiet. It took a few seconds before she realized that while the threat had disappeared, the nearby animals did not begin to vocalize and she began to turn slowly in a circle, eyes flickering from left to right trying to see movement and her ears followed suit. Isa’s. Heart began to beat faster than ever, the inability to locate where it had gone spurring her to panic and all she could hear was the blood roaring in her ears. 

Isa is young, a still inexperienced child in a world that had her fate tied to the land and the stars above. So, when she gave into panic and could not hear the movement above, the quiet growl of a stalking predator, the stars closed their eyes and her protectors held each other as it dropped onto her from above. She did not have time to run or dodge, only brace as she snapped her head up at the sound of a cracking branch and saw the danger coming from above. When they collided this time, it was the jaguar who had the advantage and sunk its teeth into her shoulder only barely stopped from reaching her neck by the instinctive reaction to flinch away from danger. 

Where before the adrenaline rush had prevented the pain felt in battle, it had passed enough that it could no longer shield her and she felt the blinding agony as claws tore at her thigh and fangs violently sunk into her. This was no longer a moment she had the upper hand; In this moment Isa became prey and she felt desperation leaking into her mind. All at once she began to thrash under the weight of her opponent, her right-hand balling into a fist to strike against its face as her left hand lay tensed in pain-induced paralysis. 

(Around her the choir wailed and the earth trembled as the child, their pequeno amor lay prone on the ground, fighting to stay alive, the hollow rattling of calls cutting off, replaced by shrieks. Their hands were bound by fate, the future waiting for what would happen next, but they called out to her as the crescendo finally crested and the golden chords grew taut, instinct taking over and her mind became sharp-)  

She did not think, not really. It was done in an instant, one moment crying out in pain and the next a sinister rattle echoing above the snarls on top of her. She did not really remember what happened clearly, only that her fear turned into rage and her hand was suddenly at its throat, claws piercing into tender flesh and her teeth cutting into its jugular vein, blood spilling onto her tongue. Isa felt it unlatch from her shoulder, a gag in its throat as it tried to get away, and she heard it give a gurgling cry as it tried to get her off. She did not let go as it slammed itself into the trees, only biting down harder and when it tried to go for her throat, she only held it away with her free hand, claws sinking into its face once again.  

It ends slowly, so different to how it started, but it ends all the same as blood continued to spill from her mouth onto the jungle floor, soaking into the earth. Golden eyes glowing behind a wooden mask slit, a dangerous focus and determination flooding them as she counted the seconds and stared up at the canopy above. The struggle begins to die down, its movements become sluggish, and where the sounds it was making had been normal until that point, they now held a wet gurgling quality to them. Isa kept counting, a steady rhythm, and when it gave a final spasm above her, it went limp. She waited and waited and waited, jaw still clenched around a mouthful of fur and covered in cooling blood until she felt and heard its heart stop beating, so close to its chest she could tell the exact moment it happened. It takes three hundred and ninety-five seconds, a little over four minutes she translates without thought, for it to end. 

Isa came back to herself slowly, like moving through tree sap, pushing the heavy body off until it slides to the side, but she doesn’t get up immediately. She laid there for what seemed like hours covered in the blood of her opponent and though a distant part of her felt like she should mourn, Isa in her entirety only felt relieved that she had survived. Propping herself up in one hand and clutching her thigh wound with the other, she lowly brought herself up to sit, gritting her teeth as pain flared sharply. Looking down at the cooling body beside her it suddenly registered that though she may have won this battle, she was covered in blood and the part of her that had woken up urged her to stand and leave, the scent of so much blood sure to bring in bigger things. Now taking in how small it was compared to others she had seen, she pushed herself up as fast as she feasibly could and began to move. 

With the urgency to get away, Isa remembered the cliff and the shelter she would have found there as she half-limped away, it may have been minutes or seconds, but at suddenly recalling what she’d been doing before her head swiveled left and right, looking for a clue as to where she was heading, ears listening for anything that may be coming toward her. Seeing nothing but green and thick jungle, she hissed in frustration moving a little faster until she heard moving water and almost throwing herself into the space as she stumbled over in her own pain. 

Stopping herself just before breaking out completely  into the open, Isa scanned the riversides and when she saw no animal nearby, she stumbled into the river. Holding her breath and closing her eyes as she ducked under the surface, she never saw the water wash away the now red water, too preoccupied with smoothing her hands down the places stained in red. The jungle around her tightened at the edges, restless to help and the plants in the water barred anything from coming towards her, still in the ways they should not be. It was only when her lungs began to burn for air that she rose to her knees and took a gasping breath, coughing up excess water and wincing at the sting of open wounds on her body. 

The haze of battle and the rush of new instincts began to fade, the rushing water seeming to sweep it away as her mind settled. The lightning overhead illuminated the sky above, its chaining branches stretching out like the roots of the trees and wind buffeted around her, dancing around to unheard music. In this moment sat in the river, soaked to the bone, and heaving for breath the light in Isa’s chest pulsed in time with the stars. For just a moment, Isa looked like the woman she would become, the future flickering over the present; a ghostly golden image of what was to come.  It could have been minutes, more than she must have registered really, but when she finally brought herself to equilibrium Isa hauled herself to her feet and marched towards the tree line. 

It didn’t matter that her body ached or that her blood began to run down her skin, all of that and more was shoved back as Isa climbed up on heavy limbs. She clenched her teeth as the wood contacted open wounds, but she soldiered on as she moved through the branches and into the canopy. It wasn’t quick, but when she crested the very last leaves, she breathed out a sharp sigh of relief as she saw the lightning illuminate the landscape. Sat there above the ground, she relaxed a little more and looked for the cliff she’d been heading towards before. She ignored the phantom feeling of claws and teeth cutting into her skin, looking this way and that until she caught sight of her destination and begun to move from branch to branch, willing each wooden limb reaching out for her to step on with so much focus she almost fell from the trees. 

Ever so slowly, she moved across the expanse of branches that remained between her and the cliffside, the flashing lighting the way as the storm continued to rumble above. The closer she got to where she needed to be, the taller the cliffside seemed to become and when she finally reached the base, its imposing height created a phantom pain in her arms, reminding her of days learning how to climb and run on shaky legs. She had come so far and though she knew that it was essential to reach the zenith of its height, where the jungle sung to her was safe, Isa also knew that she would not make it all the way, not yet. 

For a long moment, Isa stared up at the cliff and debated whether to find a different side with more handholds if she really had no choice but to climb, but then a small tugging on the gold in her chest caught her attention. Looking down at her feet, roots began to breach and cover the surface of the ground, starting to twine around her ankles. It was almost silly, the way Isa forgot about plants leaping to do her bidding, though her control was shaky and new. Hesitance to even think about committing to this plan warred against her creeping exhaustion, but as she looked up from the ground to the surroundings and the sky, Isa steeled herself and walked up to the rockface. 

Gently placing a hand off the cliff, Isa focused on the awareness of the plant life above and below, breathing deeply as golden chords laced themselves more firmly into her perception of the world around her. Recalling the way she connected to the tree, she let the power flow through her, the feeling so natural that she just knew that’s how it was meant to be and pushed her voice through to the waiting roots and branches.  

For a moment all was still and she thought that maybe it hadn’t worked, a crease forming on her brow as she whispered to the open air, “Por favor...” 

Then she heard the groaning and creaking of wood, loud and suddenly all around her as the trees began to lean down towards her, branches like the reaching arms of a loved one coming to lift her in the cradle of their hold. For the first time, the songs around her quieted and she heard something new begin to form and sing in time with the beating of her heart and harmonize with the rumbling of new instincts. As the branches reached her, they held still and Isa, worn to the bone and mind filled with new things to adjust to, stepped shakily onto it and told it to rise. Ascending the rocky wall, it felt like her heart was at once both beating with adrenaline and serene in the power she held, but overcoming all other feeling was joy. Joy that after so long walking she had reached her destination and joy at the thought of finally being able to rest from the battle she had been in, to heal her wounds in peace. 

Where the tree could not continue, roots broke from the earthen wall and lifted her farther as she stepped onto them, the rightness of the action spurring her faster and faster as a laugh bubbled up from her chest; It was exhilarating, it was exciting, and it felt like freedom. Reaching the very top, Isa stumbled a few steps forward and crashed to her knees, the brilliant high of her joy and the final remnants of her adrenaline fading to nothing but a effervescent bubbling as her mind began to fog over with her need to rest. 

(Something in the darkened night reveled in the unfettered feeling. Something that was denied and now reclaimed, laughed at the past and bared its teeth at the notion of being caged once again.) 

She would wake up hours later, wounds scabbing over, and new instincts woven into her being so thoroughly it was as if she had always had them. It would take time to relearn everything she had known before and even longer to learn about every new facet of herself, the day marking a year since Isa woke up in that dark cradle passing her by. The fight with the jaguar had taught her there were larger dangers than she was in this jungle and though she had won that fight, had clawed her way inch by inch to live, she was still young and inexperienced. The songs around her had changed just as she had, quieting itself to a low thrumming in the back of her mind for the most part, only a singular voice humming the melody louder than the rest. It spoke to her, taught her everything from the new perspective, steel hardening her voice and driven by worry, not that Isa knew that last part until many years later. 

It was arduous. 

Some days Isa would run for hours on end, a burst of energy burning through her and guiding her into a run, hours passing her by until she was caught in vines and roots. Little by little her stamina increased and alongside it, her strength as well.  By the time half a year passed since the jaguar, she could run farther and faster, though she most definitely was not the fastest thing around. Isa was still a child and even if she did have new instincts and had changed physically as well, her limitations had only slightly changed to accommodate the final transition into becoming more than she had been in the Before. Before waking up in the cradle, before knowing the melody of the jungle and the rumble of the earth beneath her feet, before knowing what it was to be cradled by a hundred different arms, before- 

(Memories that had tried to surface before, didn’t even make it to the surface as they lost their strength and surrendered to the dark, sinking down into the abyss where concrete memories were unmade into fragments of sense) 

Here in the valley where she had spent long hours dozing in the sun and watching the night sky change its image is where she grew into herself over the next few years, until one day, nearly three and a half years after having woken up, Isa saw something. 

Or should she say someone? 

It’d been from up and across a large gap in the trees that she had first seen someone that looked a bit like her, with warm skin a few shades darker than hers. It had startled her so much that she had nearly fallen from the nest of branches that she had been resting in, having grown far too big to even lay across a singular branch anymore. As it was, she had only just been able to use this method again, but she was never more grateful for the fact that the trees themselves would have warned her if she were in danger of falling. 

It was odd, like looking into the river and seeing half of herself in the body of another, but that description was wrong as well. From where she perched, she could hear noise coming from whoever this was and though she could catch snippets of words that she could understand there were some that sounded different that she had to take a moment to really figure out what they meant, like an echo of vague understanding. They were wearing colorful coverings so different from the fronds of leaves and bark that covered her own skin. 

They were shorter than her and though they seemed confident in their walk she could see that they had no muscle in their body to indicate a strength that would warrant it. It was quick and though she would have let them go, something told Isa that she needed to follow them, that the jungle was dangerous, and someone as ill prepared for it as them would be in danger just by being alone.  

So, climbing up until she was on her hands and feet, Isa crawled along the winding branches, following parallel to the person making the trek. Inside her chest, the golden chords seemed to settle as she watched over this new charge. As she kept pace, she felt the bark begin to creep up her neck and spread across her face, a mask falling into place as she kept watch out of sight and moved the vegetation to her whim. It was seamless, the way she moved beside them without this person being none the wiser, but to Isa it felt almost fated. As if her being there to keep them safe was what she had been meant to do, just as her care of the rainforest felt so right. 

As this person kept moving and she followed them silently, she got closer and closer until she could see them clearly and from above them.  It was almost startling the way she had to suppress a concerned whine and the instinct to drop down to figure out why she suddenly felt so tense at them being alone. Why did she feel so protective, like the jaguars were their cubs and the way she knew her invisible guardians were in the beginning? Looking around and casting out her awareness, she could not see anything around that would harm them, but something urged her to get them out, to deliver them where they needed to go and out of the dark jungle that they had been walking through. For someone like Isa, who had lived here in the jungle for years, had sharpened her teeth on the bones of animals that had hunted her and fought her way through every challenge, it was with learned power that she was able to walk through different places with her challenges halved.  

This person smelled like prey and though she may not have the same instincts as those of the predators who lurked in the dark, she knew with certainty that if it came to blows against one of the many dangers, they would not survive the fight and that made her heart lurch.  They would not be able to fight off a jaguar or run away from danger, not really. So, her soul becoming resolute, she closed the vegetation behind them as they moved, so slowly and noiselessly in the dark that they never glanced back to notice. 

Minute by agonizing minute passed at a pace of leaking sap and for every moment that she spent closing the trails that the inhabitants of the forest left behind, she cast her awareness as far as it could reach, intently focusing on monitoring all that moved. As she did so, the bark on her skin grew in whorls, covering her body. She almost looked like a living tree, were it not for the skin peeking through and the movement of her body as she flitted from branch to branch. If the woman had looked up, she would have seen golden eyes peering through her from the trees, but she did not. 

At least not then. 

It was as they were reaching the edge that Isa felt something begin to crash through the trees, hearing far before this person did and she found herself reacting on instinct. Muscles bunched and tensed as she prepared to drop down onto the jungle floor just as a young jaguar emerged from the trees with a growl that stopped her charge in their tracks, the scent of fear beginning to make itself knows as something dangerous entered the space. In truth had she been the only one there, she would have hissed at it, tried to scare it away without needing to fight it, but the moment she clocked the way it stalked her charge she had begun to let go of the branch. 

In the instance it took this person to register the danger coming from the tree line, backpedaling to try and get away, their sight was obscured by something else. 

Sara del Monte had only been trying to get home, the daylight having begun to fade when she realized she needed to get home. It would have been smarter to use the well-trodden and paved paths of the Encanto to get home, but she thought it would have wasted less time to get home on time to use a shortcut often used by her neighbors to get to and from their slightly secluded homes. It was a mistake to use a path she had not known at night, but by the time she realized that she was lost the light had already faded and she had no idea where to go. 

It had been a miracle she found the opening in the brush and the path by extension. It seemed that she only really knew where the path continued when she got close enough to reach out and touch the edge of a wall she’d thought had been there seconds before. It had gotten better after the first ten minutes; eyes having adjusted to the little light coming through the leaves. However, she was keenly aware of time passing, far longer than it should have taken to get home and she knew...the fact she hadn’t encountered any of the bestias nocturnas was worrying. 

Animals do not go quiet for no reason. They do it to hide themselves from the predators that walk the land, to try and survive as long as possible. 

It was almost inevitable, the low growling of something dangerous coming from her left, but still it startled her into turning to face the beast coming out of dark. She had started to back away, feet slipping a bit on the earth, when from above came a low, hissing rattle before she was blocked from sight. 

For a moment, she didn’t know what had happened, what had dropped down to join her and Jaguar, but before Sara could even begin to puzzle out what was in front of her, it rattled. It wasn’t like the soft rattling of a child's new toy, but deep and hollow, shaking her chest with the strength behind it. All she could do was stare wide-eyed at whatever was in front of her and the suddenly whining Jaguar. 

‘Dios mio....’ was the only thought running through her mind. It was a moment where her flight and fright instinct was torn in two, instead settling on freeze. Sara was not a big woman; she was one of the smallest women in her family. So, when whatever in front of her stood up and towered over her, head and shoulders easily clearing her own by a large margin, she could only stand and listen to the rattling. 

(Like the moving of the earth and the snap of breaking branches so large that they could be heard over the entire jungle. A hollow, deep sound that at once could be used to scare and to coo-) 

In a flash of movement, she was alone. Whatever it was that stood in front of her was gone and the Jaguar that had once been standing before her teeth bared, had disappeared. The only thing that assured her that it had even been there was the fading yowling heading in the direction of the deep jungle, faster than she could comprehend. She had stood there for long moments, trying to bring her heart back from the racing tempo it had begun to beat. Every attempt was met with stuttered breathing until she was breathing so fast her head began to swim. 

She had almost been attacked. So far from her home and nowhere familiar she had been face to face with something that could have dragged her into the dark never to be seen again had whatever been between her and it not dropped down. What had happened? What was that? Where was she? How did she get so lost? 

Sara wanted to go home to her family. To her mother and her little brother, where nothing bad would happen and she wasn’t stuck in the dark- 

A sudden low rumbling brought her back from the edge, soothing and shaking her chest with the vibrations. She sat up from where she had fallen during her panic and searched for wherever the sound was coming from with wide eyes filled with tears. Later, she would admit that had she not seen those eyes she would have believed that everything had been a trick of the mind and adrenaline saving her from death, but as the soft light of the moon streamed down from the canopy it caught on the golden, glowing eyes of something in the tree line.  

It was strange. For the first few moments that she had seen it, Sara had been prepared to run as far and as fast as she could to escape. But....they did not move any closer and in fact moved deeper into the trees. In a standstill that lasted longer than she could accurately say, neither of them moved; one struck still in startlement and the other to not scare. Those golden eyes looked at her and all Sara could think as nothing happened was, ‘they don’t look angry...’ 

Quite the opposite, she mused as her body untensed, and she took a small step forward in curiosity. They were higher up than anything she had ever seen with animals, almost reaching six feet. And the golden hue was more welcoming than terrifying in the moments she stared at them. The pupils dilated like a cat's eye when looking at something curious, like her own cat looked at her when she would come home after a long day at work. Really, all that was left to complete the image of the eyes was the noi- 

And that was when a low cooing, rumble shook the leaves, leaving a calming emotion in its wake; an imitation pf what a purr must be for whatever it was. Sara smiled, not able to help the grin creeping rapidly across her face at the familiar sound, but as she moved to take a step forward once again, the noise petered out and was replaced by a much softer rattle than the one it had made before while moving farther backwards into the trees. 

“Espera! Wait!” 

The eyes that had been moving back stopped and focused on her once again, a curious look in them. She hadn’t  a plan on what to do, nothing and everything on the tip of her tongue, but all she can say is, “A dónde vas?”  

She could almost kick herself for asking, but for all the embarrassment that begins to suffuse her body those golden eyes face her fully and tilt, like the face they belonged to cocked its head to the side. Taking another step closer, she spoke again, “I-I want to thank you.... si tu no hubieras intervenido-” she cut herself off, needing a moment to clear her throat and her eyes. Another rattle brought her attention back from where it had wandered and those eyes moved a bit closer, leaning down to be level with her own. 

In the lowlight, it wasn’t skin that she saw. Instead, the face that stared back at her was wooden and growing around it were plants sprouting from the sides, flowers blooming as she, because it was, stepping a little further into the light. She was covered in bark and her hair was intertwined with flowering vines, but what took her breath away wasn’t any of this. When she moved the jungle moved, the earth shaking with every step, and when she stopped roots wrapped around her feet, branches reached down for her and when she breathed it felt like everything around her did too; Like the very environment around her was her body and they were stood at its heart. 

There was so much caught in her throat, so much she wanted to say but a sudden cry from the jungle had he looking around in fear and moving closer to her guardian. Anything she would have said was locked away and as she looked back up at those eyes, they in turn softened at her scared expression and she stood up. 

They stared at her and in a moment the jungle began to move. Tree trunks leaned to the side, vines twisted themselves away, and the roots of so many plants shifted until a path carved itself out of the green and dark; a path more direct than the one she had been trying to find. Under her feet the ground began to shift and before she could even register what was happening, roots burst from the earth and lifted her into the grasp of the branches. It took her a moment to really recognize that the floor was not simply being turned but moving away from the clearing and along the path, the woman of the jungle keeping pace and overtaking her progress until she could see lights down below them at the end of the incline, she knew overlooked the town. 

Isa knew that she had to get this person down from where they were, but the only way she knew how to reach the lights as quickly as she needed was to be down the cliffside. Any other route would take her longer, especially as she was carrying this woman alongside her, and a command this long was still a little more than she could handle for long periods of time; at least for now. So, looking back at her, Isa closed her eyes for a brief second and listened to her ever present guides. 

(She was human, and they were not. She was not meant to know about them, not yet. Spirits or gods were never meant to be seen by them, but Isa was different. She had been flesh and blood before she had ever been theirs, like them, more than human-) 

La Madre Tierra reached out and her voice, the groaning of the mountains, “Sería mejor qué no se acuerde de ti, mi amor.” 

The Jungle, a chorus of a hundred different whispering voices and their leader, crooned in her ear, “Tal vez no completamente, mi amor.” 

And Isa knew, just as she knew that she was something more than the animals that wandered through the jungle and the person cradled in her branches, that this woman would sleep and her mind would cloud. She would remember the impressions of her being, would recognize that something other had come to her rescue, but Isa would not be revealed. Flowers bloomed on the branches of the branches and vines holding Sara up and her eyes grew wide in wonder, not noticing her rapidly increasing fatigue. 

She tried to speak, her eyes still staring at the the pale blooms, “Tan...He-hermosas...” 

The last thing Sara would remember among the collection of hazy memories of golden eyes, low rattles, and sweet-smelling flowers was saying one thing. 

“Madre....monte-” 

(Names have power, they cement themselves in the souls of those who are given them. Spirits and gods take the names that their people give them, a claiming of their gaze and being claimed in return.  

Isa was once flesh and blood, but she was more now; Something completely Other.  

Her Name was Isa and Amor, but now this name, falling from the lips of the innocent, was solely Hers.) 

In the coming hours, Sara would be found sound asleep at the edge of the town and Isa, looking down from the edge entrance of the mountains, breathed in time with the jungle and left the jungle of her childhood and off beyond all she had ever known. 

She would be back, her heart lying here, but a hundred different voices speaking as one and the sound of the earth rending would beckon her forward, guiding her into a new chapter. 

(Far away, in a house over-looking the town, a little girl stared up at a dim door and the face of carved on it. Wide eyes the color of her father’s stared up in unconcealed awe and for a moment, her eyes flickered a beautiful green.) 

The following two years were a whirlwind of memories that she cherished so much. Isa had known that she had been part of an extraordinary world, but she never understood the gravity of what she was. After helping the woman in the Jungle, Isa had grown curious. For a year she had spent time hopping in and out of the valley, going farther and farther out until she had made a patrol of every place that she had seen thus far, her awareness broadened with each step taken 

Time was not a concept that Isa really paid mind to. 

Isa was seventeen and her life had been defined by the cyclical changes that the seasons brought, and she had been changing alongside them. Where she had needed to climb, she simply reached. Where her feet had slipped, she gracefully crossed. Where she had strained to bring a vine to wrap around her, had needed the Chorus to aid her, the jungle did without thought. It was her body as much as her own was and the separation between what was her and what was golden chords didn't exist any longer. 

(Madremonte, they whispered in the dark of night. Gifts left at the edge of the jungle, taken by the time daylight breached the sky, and the memories of golden eyes and the moving of the jungle. Madremonte, they called her when lost souls found their way to Encanto with tales of raiders being dragged into the dark with the sound of an insidious rattle-) 

It had been five years since she had woken up and two years since she had guided her first person to safety. That time seemed like a lifetime ago and she was so different now to who she was then, so much faster and stronger than she had been. Predators that had once challenged her now stopped when they felt her presence, often either showing a sign of submission before something greater than them or avoiding her altogether, though she was noticing a much more relaxed reaction from them as of late. 

Her awareness was vast and though she was not omnipresent, she knew that if there was something that needed her attention she would know quickly as the whispers of her chorus would bring it to her attention if it was beyond her range of hearing. Isa was scarred in places she had not been before.

New ones crossing her body where the bark did not grow over them, and others only seen in the thick growth of it. The roundness of youth had left her almost completely, leaving hard earned muscle and a tall frame that reached a near seven-foot height. Her canines had grown and when she smiled, they poked out more than they had before; they had been put to good use in the past two years.  

Out there, where the cradle of her childhood ended, Isa had found villages and towns filled with people so close to the jungle that she had seen the beauty and cruelty man could offer. Often, women and children would wander into her domain, unaware of the silent presence that followed them, watching, learning. Isa had seen men set out, grim faced with their minds on finding food and followed them as they downed their catch, completely missing golden eyes from the tree line. She watched all of them and when they were lost, when they needed a miracle, she felt herself soften and provide. 

When families fled their homes, they found trails that led them through the jungle. They never noticed the trees falling on top of the raiders on horseback or the roots dragging those above them into the earth so quickly they had no time to cry out. When the starved searched for food, fruit trees grew near their homes, but it was with children that she acted. They were so in awe of everything around them, wide eyes, and so small compared to the world. 

It had started with a little boy, curly-haired and eyes the color of tree sap. He had wandered off into the trees and away from his home, moving farther and farther away until he had realized that he didn’t know where home was anymore. He had sat down on the jungle floor and cried, but around him the jungle slowly moved itself around him. He was so small and so precious, but he was so vulnerable here in her home where he could easily hurt himself, so Isa had dropped down and her mask retracted. It was odd having her face uncovered around people, but deep in her bones she knew that a child was the exception, would always be the point where she would break away from the normal and act. 

He had been afraid at first and she understood why, but as she trilled a soft rattle and playfully guided the vines to dance around and bloom, he laughed and reached for her. He was so small and in comparison, Isa was a giant to him, unafraid though he was, but oh how she melted when he giggled and grabbed her nose. Some part of Isa knew right then and there that come hell or high water, she would die before she let a child come to harm. She could have spent hours playing with him, but a far off where no mortal person could hear, she heard the cry of a woman calling out and the beginning commotion of others joining her call.

In the end, Isa had brought him closer to her chest with one hand and with the other she climbed into the trees with a leap. It was hard, moving with another attached to her, especially when he began to squirm in her grip, but as she began to hum a lullaby that she loved with the hope of calming him, he settled. She had gotten close enough to the calls that she could see light faintly moving through the trees. Moving back a bit, the roots of a large tree emerged from the ground, and she crouched down. 

Willing moss to grow to make a bed for him to lay on, she moved him a bit away from her and looked down at his sleepy face. She smiled and the sweet scent of a nearby flower flooded his senses, “Buenos sueños, chiquitin.” 

As his eyes closed and he went limp with sleep, she stood back up looking back at the lights getting slowly closer and disappeared into the dark jungle.  

(It was a crash in the jungle that drew them further in. 

When they found him curled up in the roots of the tree, they were relieved and, in the morning, when he was back home and his family asked him what happened, he would tell them how scared he had been when he couldn’t find home. He would tell them of golden eyes and a kind face, of soft rattles and the moving Jungle. He would tell them She saved him.) 

Isa had tried to remain hidden from the knowledge of those unlike her. 

(Some things walk into the light no matter how much you wish to hide them. Maybe not the whole of it, but fragments of things people saw while running like roots pulling evil men under...) 

Had never allowed people to remember her and sent them to sleep. 

(Or fruit appearing on new trees that weren't there before.) 

But for this child she had shown her face- 

(Sometimes it is golden eyes watching from the far shadows.) 

Her eyes- 

(And rarely, even the moving jungle) 

Her smile. 

(Whispers in the dark of shared experiences, belief growing through the years, gifts left at the edge of the jungle as offerings disappearing come morning.)

So, when she heard the cries of another scared child from her perch on the cliff and the low rumbles of a Jaguar getting closer, it was no surprise that she dropped everything- 

(Stopped watching the house on the hill and followed the pull in her chest-) 

And ran. 

______________________________________________

I have returned! It only took more than a year and whatever muse I was using to come back, but I have returned lol. Anyways, we'll be seeing Mirabel in the next part so be on the lookout for that.

#isabela madrigal #encanto madremonte au #encanto #encanto au

[calsnaps]

Vácuo Branco Sweet whispers

A muito tempo atrás, muito antes dos irmãos de Dreamtale precisarem existir, quando Core Frisk ainda não havia caído em seu Void, e Error não era nada além de um Sans comum, os planos de criar o Ink, nem haviam começado, horrortale não existia para poder passar fome, os humanos de Dusttale não haviam sequer brigado para começarem uma guerra, Chara não tinha nascido para saber o que era determinação, o botão de transcrever não era sequer um problema na época, e todo e qualquer criador, se juntavam em uma AU pacifica, para falar sobre seus planos e tomar chá, uma AU chamada Sweet whispers(Sussurros Doces), era uma AU composta inteiramente de Programadores talentosos, que em questão de poder, eram incríveis, considerados na época, invencíveis, se existissem na época de Error, seus códigos bugados não passariam de brincadeira para eles corrigirem e transformarem ele em um Sans normal novamente, terminar a AU de Ink seria um passa tempo divertido para pessoas tão bondosas, eles viviam em paz, e queriam continuar assim, mas, para existir tal paz, eles ajudavam outras AU de fora, acolhiam seres machucados ou com medo, e levavam para a AU Até que… Uma Criança acolhida, tinha uma alma Marrom Claro, e lindos cabelos Marrom escuro, ela tinha um sorriso gentil, até pisar na grama com aqueles pés descalços, quando viram os códigos da Criança, todos os programadores entraram em desespero, quem conseguiu fugir, fugiu, quem ficou se alto deletou e a AU foi desfeita, nada disso foi a Criança, mas sim… Medo por o que ela poderia fazer caso tivesse acesso a AU, essa é a história de como um Vírus, Trojan, ficou preso em um lugar chamado de Vácuo Branco, em forma de criança, ali foi palco da luta de Naps e Puzzle, mas de fato, Naps tem códigos que não podem ser acessados e Puzzle tinha todos os materiais que usava, baseado em arquivos fantasma, então ambos ficavam ilesos, mesmo que qualquer ser entre no Vácuo Branco, nada acontece com ele, o Trojan não consegue acessar seus códigos, mas, se construir algo ali… Saiba, você já era, se mate antes que ele use você para fugir dali e destrua o Multiverso!

#undertale #undertale au #alternate universe #sans undertale #sans #artists on tumblr #sans au #napstablook #undertale fanart #underground #underverse #past

[handsofred]

My current WIP's.

So I saw a post at some point showing the current WIPs that people have and those that they have posted. I kind of liked the idea so I thought that I would do the same.

Currently writing and have posted to AO3:

Signal in the sky - Steter (8/?) - Slow build, bad friend Scott McCall, Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, The Hales don't live in BH, Good friend Jackson, Emissary Stiles, The Hales all live, Peter didn't bite Scott, As Stiles spoke and recounted everything to the vet, Stiles thought it would be harder to tell it, but the words flowed easily as he described everything the best he could, from the letter he had gotten to the pack meeting before coming here. The more Stiles thought about it, the more he was feeling better, the weight was lifting higher off his shoulders as he breathed out freely. It felt like it was a second chance for him, like this had been the signal he had been waiting for in a long time.

I'm growing roots in the idea of you - Sterek (2/?) - Slow build, Emissary Stiles, Single father Derek, Fisherman Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek deserves nice things, ‘’Join the Emissary program they said, it would be fun they said. You’ll get assigned to California they said.’’ Stiles grumbled beneath his breath as he shifted on his feet. His hands were pressed as far and as deep as they could get in the large puffy jacket he was wearing, his eyes moving back and forth as he watches the bag carousal go round and around, bringing bags out to everyone but himself.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum - If you want peace, prepare for war - Sterek (16/?) - Female Stiles Stilinski, Tribal AU, Alpha Derek Hale, Good Peter Hale, Human Stiles, Stiles becomes pack, Warrior Stiles, Bad Scott McCall, Trigger warnings - loss of child, Fast asleep, the Alpha watched her eyes flicker under their lids with dream. Her mouth twisting down as her skin pulled around three large scars. From just above her left brow to mid cheek, he takes in the old wound, skin raised and jagged like claws. A war wound.

Scars and stripes - Sterek (10/?) - Single parent Derek, Soldier Stiles, Injured Stiles, Stiles has PTSD, Human AU, Alive Hales, Derek take cares of Stiles, Trigger warnings - Suicide attempt, Slow build He wished he could say that, he first saw him again at the school reunion he had gone back too, ten years after they had left high school, but in truth...it wasn't, and even so...it wasn't him who noticed him sat there, it was his daughter.

The Tattooed King - Steter (1/?) - King Stiles, King Peter, Human Stiles, Fae Stiles, Magical Stiles, Alpha Peter, Wolf Peter, Slow build, curses, warrior Stiles, Words whispered of pale skin and dark ink. They spoke of curses and lore, trailing through the night. Words spoke of a mighty king, one who slayed every time. They spoke of a wrath so strong that even his own men were afraid of him. Words spoke of a predator who hunted and captured in every step, of a king that was feared and loved together. Words spoke of a cold tune, echoing through colder hallways of night. They speak of a soul tainted and stained with the dead

Currently writing but have not posted.

Unpredictable - Sterek, - told from Scott's pov, time travel, Scott tries to change everything, blames Stiles for everything that has happened including the bite.

City of Shadows - Peter/Chris/Stiles. - Stiles can see the dead, Dead Laura Hale, Alive Derek,

If there's anything I've learned/ Flowers - Steter, Stiles/Chris briefly - Stiles is pushed out the pack, female Stiles, magic Stiles, Stiles gets the bite, slow build Steter,

It will never be the way it was - Unknown pairing - Stiles is in therapy, Trigger warning - talk of suicide and attempts,

Holding out for a hero - Steter - Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, Good friend Jackson, Bad pack, Bad Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Arget is the hero, Stiles gets attacked, Alpha Peter, Sane Peter Hale,

#handsofred #fics #current fics #WIPs #Peter Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Teen Wolf #Jackson Whittemore #fan fiction #work in progress #Bad friend Scott #Bad father Sheriff Stilinski #Magical Stiles #Human Stiles #Alpha Peter #Alpha Derek #Single father Derek