Tumgik
#not too happy with the colouring on this one........
molten-m122 · 2 days
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strings - l.n
Warnings: Fluff!
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: Y/N and Lando make bracelets together!
“Y/N, I wanted that one,” Lando pouted, nudging you with his elbow as his eyebrows drew together. “There’s more over there,” you said, pushing him back. Immediately, his expression cleared back into his happy little smile, picking up the “L” bead from the box. “What colour are you making it?” you asked, resting your head on Lando’s. “Orange,” he said simply, the string of the bracelet right up against his face, his lips parted and eyes wide with focus. A small smile crept onto your face as you watched your boyfriend, so engrossed in to the simple task, his chocolate brown curls resting perfectly on his head as he threaded the string through the bead. It was almost comical - the way someone with such an…adrenaline filled lifestyle, one that never slowed down, was sat beside you, barely moving yet somehow remaining productive. It was moments like these that you cherished. And Lando. Well, Lando. He was truly beautiful to look at. 
Bliss. It was nothing but pure bliss. The golden sun radiating through the windows, casting its godly glow onto Lando’s face, his eyes glimmering green with concentration, skin a warm yellowish-orange. “Is there something on my face?” Lando spoke suddenly, almost making you jump. “You’re staring,” he said, looking away from the bracelet, his bright green orbs meeting yours. His expression was between something of amusement and confusion, probably from catching you staring and confused as to why. “You’re beautiful, Lan,” you said, without even thinking about the words.
At first, he looks slightly taken aback by your honest and bold response - you weren’t one to usually be so forward with how you felt. “So there’s a mirror on my face?” he said, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. Your cheeks immediately filled with pink, how could you forget? This was the precise reason why you found yourself in love with the man sat in front of you. “I…” you realised you didn’t quite know what to say. You’d found yourself in the same position countless times in the past, and you couldn’t even say you hated it. “I love you Y/N Y/L/N,” Lando said, leaning forwards. His hands pressed against his own chest as his lips inched closer to yours, a small smile on his face. “I love you to, Lando Norris,” you whispered softly, leaning forwards too.
Lando’s hand wrapped around your wrist, slipping the bracelet onto you as his lips met yours, soft and warm. It was hungry or overly-passionate, it was sensual in a gentle kind of way. His hand reached your hair as you rested your on his shoulder, his curls brushing against your fore head. “Lando…” you mumbled against his lips, his elbow slipping away from you as it slid across the table. “Lando!” you gasped, the tray of beads spilling onto both of your laps. “Oh shit…” he muttered, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Enjoy finding orange heart beads for the next 3 years,” you snorted, kissing your boyfriend gently on the cheek as he blushed.
……………..-……………..-……………..-……………..-……………..-……………..-………….
“Lando, slow down!” you called, running after the brit. The rain poured down, of course god must have thought now would be a goof time to open up the heavens. “Catch me, Y/N!” he laughed, running ahead as he slowed down, seeing you do the same. The cold rain drops fell down slowly…pat pat pat. You didn’t see him stop through the haze, instead, your body colliding with the taller man. “Y/N!” he gasped, your head hitting his shoulder. Both of you stood in the same place, Lando rocking you from side to side slowly in sync with his body. “Oh Y/N,” he cooed, lifting your face slowly. “Lan…” you hummed, smiling softly. “I love you so much,” he whispered, kissing you gently. “Me too,” you hummed into the kiss.
Lando loved you. And you loved him. It was perfect.
350 notes · View notes
mysticmiav · 2 days
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It was Chilumi Fairy Tale week on twitter, and here are my pieces for it✨️🐳
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But the walls of that tower could not hide everything☀️
Day 1- Rapunzel au🍳
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Red is the colour of destiny🥀
Day 2- Red Riding Hood & Woodcutter au
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"It's... made of glass?"
Day 3- Cinderella au🥿
Don't stare at the perspective too much it doesn't make any sense
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He recounts stories of his travels to her⚓️
Day 4- Pirate Siren au✍️
Sooo happy with how this one turned out <3
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Salty depths hold secrets⚓️🌊
Day 5- Another Pirate Siren au, because I really wanted to draw their roles reversed; this time it's Pirate Lumine Siren Childe~
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"What's wrong?"🗡
Day 6- Ella Enchanted au! One of my favourite movies growing up~
For anyone that doesn't know the movie: the story is about a girl named Ella who, when she was born, her fairy (godmother-ish) casted a bleesing of obedience on her. Due to it, Ella obeys any order given to her no matter what, and, well, you can imagine how that goes when the wrong people learn of this information.
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The evening star is shinin' bright so make a wish✨️
Day 7- Princess and the frog au🌱
So my initial goal was to just sketch something for every day (since am busy w work and other projects) but it felt like I kept getting carried away each day, my sketches kept getting more detailed and all. So, for the last day, I wanted to lowkey-shitpost it and go for froggies chilumi!✍️
Alright long post but that's all. This was my first time actually making a piece for every day of those types of events & am happy with all of them🖤
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rinhaler · 3 days
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One Minute, It's a Beautiful Scene
CHAPTER SUMMARY : how has megumi managed to convince you to run away from the class and visit the local aquarium?
boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro
WARNINGS : 18+, PG chapter tbh!
WORDS : 4.5k
notes : I PROMISED I'D POST THIS WEEK AND I DID
       LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER
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You observe Megumi as he fills in the last few areas of the bear page. He laughs when he puts his pen down. It’s ridiculous, but he likes it. Yours on the other hand doesn’t compare to the purple dolphin you had done previously. Megumi definitely has you beat this round in terms of colouring. He takes your book again, flipping through the pages for another page to colour in.
“The red elephant definitely wasn’t your finest work, O’Keeffe.” he tuts, focusing on which page he’d like to colour the most.
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” you tell him, pouting like a petulant child at the nickname. It is so loaded and filled with hate. But then again, so is the man who keeps using it against you. He huffs, annoyed, just because you’re telling him you don’t like it won’t change a thing. You’re O’Keeffe, to him. Megumi likes it. So Megumi won’t stop.
“Here, you do this one.” he tells you, pointing at a page filled with different types of flowers. It’s cute, and the big sunflower in the centre is calling your name.
It’ll pass the final hour to colour in again at the very least.
You can’t help but smile each time you look over at Megumi. The song ‘Pretend We’re Dead’ by L7 is playing full blast through his headphones whilst he's poking his tongue out in concentration as he colours in an a unicorn.
So angsty and still so cute.
He scoffs when he notices you staring, insisting that you shut up.
“I didn’t say anything!” you giggle.
“Alright, O’Keeffe, focus on your flowers.”
You sigh, looking down at the page. The way your stomach twists and spasms is all too familiar to how you’ve felt ever since you first met Megumi. Looking at the flowers now, despite them not being your own creations, is causing you nothing but pain and heartbreak. Flowers were your muse. They always made you smile, feel loved, feel happy.
But now all you feel is disdain.
His eyebrow quirks and he looks subtly over his shoulder as he watches you close your book without finishing your colouring. He pretends he isn’t interested in what you’re doing as you pack your book back inside of your tote bag and fold the tray table back to where it belongs. You place your felt tips onto his table, manoeuvring your body so you’re facing the window and looking at the sea in the distance.
You’re close.
It’s difficult forgetting who you’re dealing with. Megumi Fushiguro is like no one you’ve ever met. Although there is a familial resemblance to Naoya, both arrogant and nasty, he is so cold and uncaring.
Most normal people tend to ask what is wrong when you begin acting how you are right now. Yuuji would be begging you to share your woes with him.
But Megumi Fushiguro is not Yuuji.
He’ll never ask, although you want him to so badly. You want to scream at him, make him realise what he’s done to you. How he’s ruined something as beautiful and ordinary as flowers for you. And he still won’t stop calling you O’Keeffe! He won’t ask, your only choice is to tell him. But you know it won’t do any good.
He just doesn’t care. And you can’t make him.
“I need some fresh air and a smoke. Why are we even going to this hick town?” Megumi grunts, finishing colouring the unicorns horn in a pretty pastel blue. You scoff, and laugh, earning another infuriated grunt from him. “What?”
“It’s not a hick town, idiot. It’s a coastal town!” you inform him.
“Same thing. Nothing to do but look at the beach and morons walking their mutts.” he huffs.
“You’re always on, aren’t you?” you laugh. “You can turn the angsty teen act off once in a while. It’s okay to like things. You might even like the place, the sea breeze is good for you.” you explain. He shakes his head, resuming his colouring. “I didn’t know you smoke…” you sigh, repositioning yourself so that you’re facing him.
“Nosy.” he says.
Maybe he has a point. But you never thought you’d be comfortable enough with your bully to sit and talk with him like this. You shrug your shoulders in an attempt to appear as if you don’t care, but the look in his eye tells you that you aren’t a good enough actress to pull it off. “You’ve seen me with coke on my nose and you’re surprised I smoke?” he states. Your eyes widen in horror as you remember seeing his dusted nose in the bathroom that day.
“Oh, I—”
“Everything in moderation. I don’t smoke or do drugs often. Every now and then to remind me I’m alive. Or when I’m stressed, I guess.” he hums as he explains. “You ever do drugs?” he asks.
“Nosy.” you tease back. A smile creeps onto his face, shaking his head with a pout as he considers you. “There was this one time when I got spiked…”
“Alright, shut up.”
“Are you ever going to apologise for how you’ve treated me, Megumi? Do you know what you’ve done to me?” you wonder.
It’s hard to talk to him. He’s so fucking unusual and mystifying you can’t help but lose yourself in conversation with him and want to know every inch of his aching soul. That’s your inner empath talking. But there’s a frightened voice within you that can’t let you forget what he’s done to you. Every single thing he’s done and you keep throwing it up in the form of words each time you remember. He asked you a question, and you couldn’t help yourself but remind him of what he is.
He’s a bastard.
A bully.
A monster.
He covers his ears with his headphones for the umpteenth time, disregarding your words and your existence entirely.
Something is telling you that you won’t be hearing from him for the rest of the journey.
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Somehow you managed to drift off whilst riding out the final hour of the ride. Megumi was happy with his unicorn colouring and admired it for a while as the vehicle slowed down so that it could park. The other students began to stand up and pick up their belongings so they could get outside sooner. Everyone seemed to be desperate for some fresh air.
The girls of your worst nightmares sauntered by you both. But the blonde couldn’t help but stop and look at the two of you. She sniggers, pulling the attention of the redhead to stare at you as well.
“Looking very cosy, Megumi.” she spits, a loathsome tone in her voice.
Megumi looks to his side, seeing you comfortably resting on his shoulder as you continue to nap. He doesn't want to wake you. But for some reason he let the girl’s comments get under his skin. He shrugs his shoulder, hoping it would be enough to wake you. You stir, but he notes you have no intention of opening your eyes.
“Get up.” he demands, using the full force of his hand to shove you away from him. The back of your head thumps against the window and your eyes shoot open. Your heart is racing at your unfamiliar surroundings, evidently forgetting where you are whilst you had been sleeping. “We’re here.”
“You didn’t have to shove me.” you tell him.
“I’m not your fucking pillow, O’Keeffe. I know princess is used to everyone doing whatever she wants, though, so I’ll let you off this once.” he tells you as he gathers his things. Before you can get out of your seat, he’s shoving his three coloured pages in your face and demanding you put them in your bag. He is a princess. A childish little bratty princess.
“Don’t you want to keep them?” you ask him waving them in your hand wondering if he’ll change his mind.
“No, put them in your book. They’re yours.”
He stands in the middle of the walkway, blocking everyone from getting ahead of him as he waits for you to get your things together and get off the bus. It makes you nervous, you can hear people complaining in the aisle about being held back and it’s your fault. Why won’t he just let them by? He looks unbothered, as always. His expression is telling you not to worry. But how could you not? He towers above you when you finally stand up and guides you out.
The salty air hits you like a brick through a window. You’ve never felt so alive. And you can tell by Megumi’s face he’s enjoying it too. He’s disgruntled when he hears your lecturer inform you that you’re five minutes away from an art gallery you’ll be spending some time at.
He wanted some time to stretch his legs and breathe in the air; it is a crushing blow to realise he’ll be trapped in a stuffy gallery immediately after getting off the coach. You all walk together in the direction of the art gallery nonetheless. But when you get outside, Megumi pulls you backwards and drags you away from the group so that you can hide around the corner.
“What are you—?”
He’s lighting his cigarette and leaning against the wall. His face instantly turns from tense to pure ecstasy. He snickers each time you look around, tense about being caught with him and not inside with your class. As if you aren’t adults. It’s like you’re scared about being caught smoking.
You are.
“Why are you so antsy? Here,” he speaks as he holds his cigarette out to you. Though you politely decline, he continues puffing away and tarring his lungs. “We aren’t teenagers y’know. We won’t get in trouble.”
“We’re meant to be with the group! You didn’t even tell anyone about—”
“Shut up.” he hisses, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with the bottom of his shoe. “C’mon then, princess, let’s get you inside before you blow a fucking fuse.” he moans as he storms ahead of you. Your legs work over time doing your best to keep up with his massive strides, still trailing behind him.
It turns out you were worried for nothing as you seamlessly re-join with the class. The two of you lingering in the back as your teacher explains what is going on. Apparently you have an hour to wander around and admire the work, and after that time you need to meet back up in the main room to listen to a speech from one of the curators here. Megumi rolls his eyes at that, immediately skulking off to the nearest elevator to hide on the top floor.
As much as you want to explore and admire all of the art, you know you’re easy pickings by yourself. The girls are eyeing you up like vultures the further away Megumi gets from you. You look between him and them a few times before rushing over to the elevator. He shakes his head in annoyance as he swallows liquid from an energy drink can he pulled out of his backpack.
“Little bloodsucker.” he mutters.
You ignore him, though, knowing it’s easier to listen to his insults than be involved with the girls downstairs. There isn’t much to look at when you step outside and onto the top floor. A few paintings and nothing more. Although there is a comfortable looking bench that Megumi soon makes himself at home on. You sit beside him twiddling your thumbs, unable to help feeling like you’re missing out on things.
“I’m not keeping you here, go look at the art.” he tells you.
“N-No…” you stutter, pulling your laptop out of your bag and searching the gallery up on the internet. “I’ll use my phones hotspot and… it’s fine. See, most of the paintings are on their website so—”
“It’s different in the flesh. You want to make some notes for your dissertation, right? Go look around.” he instructs.
“I don’t want to go. Those girls terrify me... They only leave me alone when you’re with me.”
“Well I’m here now. And there’s some paintings here, too. So go look at those.”
You suppose he has a point. There’s no one here but you and him. You tuck your laptop back inside of your bag and decide to look around.
He doesn’t take his eyes off you while you look at each painting and make page after page of in-depth notes. You’re smarter than he’s given you credit for. He hasn’t even thought about writing his dissertation. He feels a strange sensation in his chest each time you lean forwards and tuck your pen behind your ear as you study each individual brushstroke on the canvases.
He’s getting warmer, and he can’t stop smiling.
He tries to shake it away and drink more of his energy drink. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. About you. Why is he thinking about the time you kissed at your parents manor house?
Fuck.
He gets up, abandoning you as he strides towards the elevator again. It’s hard for you to put your things away and catch up with him, but you do. Standing side by side as the elevator descends to the floor below.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“Nothing.”
He sticks close to you as you wander from painting to painting. He even shields you from the girls when he spots them getting a little close, not that you noticed, too captivated by the paintings. They’re all so homely and sweet. The type of painting you’d see in a grandparent’s home. Mostly beachscapes and sea life. You turn a corner, and Megumi whistles as he studies the painting in front of you both.
“Wow…” you huff.
“It’s... big.” he follows.
“And so detailed.” you add.
It’s another beachscape, but with a ton of attractions included in the image. Amusement parks, restaurants, you name it. You’re scribbling down notes furiously as you take in every inch of the beautiful painting. Megumi, meanwhile, is more interested in the floor to ceiling window overlooking the town and bathing the painting in natural light. He notices something in the distance that makes him squint in concentration. His vision begins to alternate between the painting and the window. He takes your breath away as he drags you towards the window so you can see what he’s looking at. You begin to copy him as you look between the painting and the window, seeing what he’s seeing.
“An aquarium!” you smile, excited by the prospect of going.
“Shall we go?” he asks. You shake your head.
“We can’t,” you tell him as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and begin to walk towards the elevator for the final time. “we have that speech thing in ten minutes.” you remind him. When the doors open and you blend in with the group, your lecturer stands proudly in front of everyone.
“Feel free to look around for another ten minutes before the wonderful curator tells us about the history of the town and how it influenced the art on display.” he announces.
You turn to see Megumi standing with raised eyebrows.
Do you really want to stick around and listen to that?
Both his facial expression and your internal monologue ask you that. When there’s an aquarium down the road? Absolutely fucking not. He tilts his head in the direction of the exit, and you both casually walk towards it hoping to not get caught. Once outside, you begin to sprint together down the streets.
“You’re a bad influence.” you tell Megumi as you slow down now that you’re safe enough to walk.
“You feelin’ alright princess? Didn’t think you had this in you.” he taunts.
“Let’s just go,” you demand as you overtake him in your speed walking, “I wanna see some fish!”
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Megumi covers the cost of the admission fee, telling you that you have to pay for food. You remind him that you can’t be any later than 5pm or you’ll miss the coach home. He side eyes you as your phone lights up with a text. You reply with a cheesy smile on your face.
Why does he feel so fucking angry about it?
He feels even worse as you giggle with your reply.
“Who’s that? Yuuji?” he asks. Instantly cringing at his questioning. He shouldn’t have asked. He doesn’t care. Does he? Why did he ask?
“I haven’t heard anything from Yuuji since he left.” you sigh, wondering why he hasn’t made the effort to answer any of your messages yet. You hold your eyes shut as you try and dispel the negative thoughts from your mind. Smiling when your eyes open and excited to tell Megumi the truth. “It was your dad, actually.” you chuckle.
“Oh, yeah? You text with my dad?” he queries.
“Not really, he was asking how we’re doing and if you’re giving me any shit.” you explain.
“Gonna rat on me again?”
“No! I—”
“Ugh, you’re sick. You want to fuck each other so bad. It’s obvious.” Megumi pouts, walking away from you as he steps into the first room.
“I do not! I can’t speak for Toji and I wouldn’t blame him because, well, look at me.” you joke as you flaunt your body and your face sarcastically. “But I’m with Yuuji and I love him and I’m happy.” you speak a little louder than intended. He nods, but doesn’t speak. You think he’s more interested in the fish, which is fair.
You spend time in each room. Sometimes you stand together, and other times you stand apart. The rooms all link together, so you take your time exploring them all. From Amazonian fish to cold water ones. By the time you reach the warmer waters room you hear Megumi’s stomach begin to growl.
“There’s a café upstairs.” you tell him as you lead the way.
You point at the window while you wait for your orders to be brought to your table. It’s raining. His face scrunches in disbelief. It has been perfect sunshine all day. Barely a cloud in the sky and now it’s pouring down rain.
“I told you.” you remind him.
“Yeah, you did.”
You note the time on your phone, telling him that you should probably go back to your class soon. But he disagrees. You’ve got over an hour before the bus leaves and you still have a few rooms left to look at. You’re satisfied with your small plate of food but it’s clear that it has barely touched the sides for Megumi. Though he declines your offer to get him something else, he’s more intrigued by the prospect of looking at the sharks.
“Maybe we’ll see a purple dolphin.” he jokes.
He starts to think of all of the colouring you did together on the coach. And the flowers. Why didn’t you finish the flowers? They’re your thing. He calls you O’Keeffe for a reason. He picked that page specifically for you.
Were you just too tired?
“How’s your sketchbook doing? I bet you’ve got a garden growing by now.” he asks, distracting himself from annoying, niggling thoughts. You puff out air, unsatisfied with the question and your current predicament.
Flowers. Fucking flowers.
“I’ve fallen out of love with flowers...” you admit, earning a surprised expression from Megumi.
“Shame. What’s the reason?” he questions, oblivious.
“… You. Because of you, Megumi.”
He clears his throat, awkwardly. It’s not that he feels bad, he doesn’t, but it’s like a real look in the mirror. You aren’t joking with him like you had on the bus. You aren’t trying to get him in trouble with Toji. It’s earnest, it’s real.
You’ve stopped loving something that meant so much to you, because of him.
Painting flowers meant so much to you. It calmed you. Brought you joy, happiness, strength. And each time he harassed you, called you names, harmed you, destroyed that. It was like he personally ripped an individual petal from every single flower to exist.
You’ve lost love.
The world has lost its bloom.
He gets up, walking away from the table without a word. You’re never going to get a word out of him. You’ll never get an apology or an acknowledgement of what he’s done to you. What you’ve become because of him. That’s just something you need to come to terms with. You step out into the tropical waters display, a huge underwater tunnel showing you the sharks swimming over your head. The unpleasant conversation seems to melt away from you as you watch the sharks movements and rippling water above you.
The bright blue water illuminates both of you. Though you don’t pay attention to Megumi, he can’t stop staring at you. After torturing you for so long, he doesn’t think he’s seen you truly happy until today. You look like a totally different person to him with an earnest smile on your face.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” you query as you make eye contact with Megumi. He does nought but nod, looking above him at the sea life once again.
“Yeah.” he mutters, so quietly you can’t hear him. He watches you for a while as you take more pictures on your phone.
“Smile!” you tease, pointing your phone at him and catching him off guard. You manage to get one nice one, the rest you take are him covering his face. “Will you take one of me?” you wonder. He hesitates, but nods.
He takes a few as a shark swims behind you, handing your phone back to you to see if you’re satisfied.
“I think you’ve got a new muse.” Megumi informs you. You look deeply into the water, considering his words. Maybe he’s right. It can’t hurt to take some more pictures just in case.
“Come here.” you command him. He gets closer, but begins to retreat as you flip your camera to selfie mode. “Just one, stay still!”
He cracks a smile as you take a photo of yourselves together with the blinding blue water highlighting you both. You consider putting it on your story, but your stomach sinks at the prospect of Yuuji stumbling upon it. He watches you save the image and close out of it, keeping it for your own personal memories.
“Shall we get another coffee and then go?” you ask.
“There’s a gift shop over there.” he points. Your eyes widen. There is nothing more exciting than a gift shop. Regardless of how overpriced they can be.
“Okay. Coffee. Gift shop. Bus.”
“Sure.”
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“How cute is this shark!” you smile as you practically shove the shark plush in Megumi’s face. “I want it but—”
“Sure. Hurry up and decide while I go piss.” he sighs as he leaves you alone in the gift shop.
You become incredibly tense after you put down the shark. It was as soft as a cloud, but as the time draws nearer to 5pm, your nerves get the better of you. Where the hell is he? You linger outside the bathrooms for a little while, despite the fact it’s making you feel like a criminal, but he doesn’t appear.
The time hits 5:29 and you can’t help but wonder if he is back to his old tricks. Did he go to the bus alone and leave you stranded here?
You look out of a nearby window, and spot him standing across the road. A cigarette between his fingers on one hand and his phone to his ear in the other. Even from this distance you can practically see a vein bulging in his forehead. He’s yelling, furiously. He tosses his cigarette aside and continues talking as he walks back into the aquarium.
At that moment, your heart sinks.
Right as he walks inside, you see your class’ coach drive behind him and out of town. Fuck. You run faster than you ever have before, sprinting down the stairs and out of the building. You didn’t see Megumi, but you pick your phone up and begin to dial your lecturer again and again.
No answer.
You run back inside; searching each and every room to find Megumi again. In hindsight, it would have been a great idea to finally ask for his number while you were on the coach. He’s nowhere in sight, and you worry you’ll never find him at this rate. Should you wait outside for him? Stay in one room and hope that he finds you?
You rush outside into the torrential rain, tears streaming from your face. You aren’t sad, you’re stressed. You’re scared. Where is he? What the hell are you going to do? You’ve been left here and you’re stuck! How could they do this? How could your school just leave you here and not even try to get in touch?
“What are you doing out here?” Megumi asks, yet another cigarette latched between his teeth.
“Did you do this on purpose?” you accuse him, a dangerous scowl on your face telling him you aren’t playing around.
“I was just—” you cut him off as he raises a bag he’s holding in his hand.
“You knew we had to be back at the pick up site for 5pm. Look at the time! It’s gone, we’re stranded! What the fuck are we going to do?” you rant and rave as he continues to smoke casually.
“I don’t want to be stuck here in this weather with you. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Who were you on the phone to?”
“What?”
“I saw you from the window. Arguing. Was it Toji? Were you telling him your latest plan to make my life hell? No one can save me while we’re here. Haven’t you fucked my life up enough?” you begin to cry harder as the stress sets your mind into overdrive. Why did this have to happen to you? Why is he doing this?
“It wasn’t Toji. It’s none of your fucking business who I talk to on the phone.”
“But—”
“Shut up. Stop crying. Let’s go inside and figure out what we’re going to do.”
You suppose he has a point. Crying won’t solve anything, and maybe you were a little rash in accusing him. Not everything is about you. That’s what you’re sure he’s telling himself in his mind. That you’re a spoilt princess and making something about you which, in reality, didn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just an unfortunate circumstance that you missed the bus home. You need to figure out how to fix this.
You need to find a way home.
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© 2022 fuwushiguro | © 2024 rinhaler
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61 notes · View notes
schnarfer · 2 days
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The One - A Dieter Bravo Drabble
Dieter Bravo x f!reader
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Rating: Just light angst today lads (gn)
Word count: 838 words  
Summary: If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?
Content: Bit of emotional torment, drink and drugs references, Dieter POV, happy ending? Always Fleabag coded.
AN: Thank you so much to the truly wonderful @beskarandblasters for creating the taylor swift drabble challenge! I chose Folklore (MY BELOVED) and got given Dieter & The 1, which when I was woken up at 2am by my three year old, I found I had a flurry of ideas for! I hope you enjoy this little drabble that may well have been a fever dream? I absolutely love writing for Dieter, the trash panda of my heart 🖤 you can read my other Dieter's on my fic masterlist
Huge thank you to my darling @pascalssbabyy for reading and encouraging me in my madness!
Please do check out the whole challenge masterlist here
Dividers by @saradika/ @saradika-graphics
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The One
Dieter Bravo knows he’s not the one.
He’s the best sex they’ve ever had, the most debauched twenty-four hours in Vegas, the absolute worst boyfriend, the ultimate Met Gala date, the ideal stoned art gallery companion… but never, he’s never, been The One.
Sometimes he’s been The One before The One, like with you.
He wakes up alone in his bed for once. With bleary eyes he checks his phone, sees the date and feels an unpleasant lurch in his stomach, a twist of memory right in the gut.
Fuck it, he needs a spliff and he needs to get out of this fucking house. It feels airless all of a sudden, this ridiculous glass palace he’s hidden himself away in. He keeps his grey sweats on, scratches at his belly and goes on the hunt for his supplies.
So much fucking glass everywhere, the sun hurts his eyes and he pulls on the nearest pair of Wayfarer sunglasses. They’re too small for his face - yours. Shit. He keeps them on, continues the search for his weed tin, knows he left it somewhere last night when he was aiming for oblivion.
It’s in the den. The one comfy spot in this awful place. The cats come and sit with him as he skins up; he has vague recollections of being so high last night he was certain he could hear Chairman Meow’s thoughts. Was sure the little black cat telepathically told him that if he wished hard enough, you’d come back to him. You’d realise all the things he’d never told you. He gives Chairman Meow a good scratch on the chin, lights the spliff.
Dieter knows he is unconventional, a colour outside the lines kind of guy; unpredictable career, minor drug problem, pathological fear of commitment? You know, the usual. He’d thought that you’d loved that about him. Until you hadn’t. Until you’d decided you needed a more paint by the numbers kind of relationship; started feeling the need to tick boxes that Dieter wasn’t even aware of.
Now he’s satisfied that he’s stoned enough, he rolls into his car and asks his driver Pete to take him to the movies. There’s a Richard Curtis marathon on, your favourite. Might as well torture himself a little at the matinée.
There’s a moment in the car when he thinks he sees you at the bus stop and his whole body freezes, a ghost that sucks his soul right out of him for a whole half second. He didn’t though. You weren’t ever at bus stops, least of all today.
He realises too late he didn’t put a shirt on under his teddybear coat, so he’s a bit sweaty and overexposed all at once. Today is not his day.
The popcorn is salty sweet delicious, the film is exquisite pain. About Time, your comfort film. You cry like a baby every watch and now Dieter does the same, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as father and son walk down the beach one last time.
Fuck’s sake he grumbles to himself, why did he think this would make anything better? Worse. He’s made it worse.
He wonders back to the waiting car, rubbing at his eyes and pulling at his scruffy beard, contemplating just how alone he feels. He had always been on his own before you, but you’d begun collecting people, a little found family for you both. They did things like host supper parties, or lazy Sunday’s watching movies together, there was a picnic once. A picnic! He thought you’d been happy. He can’t drink rosé any more, makes him feel sick to his stomach; a reminder of your shared joy, wine drunk with friends who loved you both. It now tastes acrid in his mouth, bitter, like regret.
He leans forward, gives Pete a big Cheshire Cat grin, “Pete can you…”
“Mr Bravo, you gave me ten grand in cash and told me if you ever asked me to drive you to her house again, I had to take you straight to rehab instead. Is that what we’re doing today?”
Dieter lets out a dramatic sigh.
“No Pete.” He slumps back on the seat. Torments himself for the rest of the journey if there was one thing he could have done differently. If he had, would today be a very different day? He digs at the sweetness, makes it hurt.
“Fuck! Pete! Am I hallucinating?”
You’re there. Sat on his front step.
A mess of tears and puffy cheeks, a veil that has been cast aside next to you and a bouquet of white roses still hanging in your hands. White silk dress stained with mascara.
Pete stops the car and Dieter practically backwards somersaults out the door, one croc flying off, a combination of falling and running to you, a jumble of panic and confusion. Aching concern; he can’t stand to see you hurting, wants nothing more than to bundle you up into his arms and make the pain he can practically feel radiating from you, go away.
“Angel?”
You drop the flowers, bury your head in his chest, the remnants of popcorn still stuck to it but you don’t care, breathe him in. Your Dieter.
He kisses at your hair, tightens his arms around you, “I don’t understand?”
“He wasn’t the one Dieter.” You wiggle out of his grip, lean up to him and give him the softest kiss, “You are.”
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Little tag list of some Dieter fans: @sp00kymulderr @chronically-ghosted @luxurychristmaspudding @katareyoudrilling @toomanytookas @wannab-urs @ghotifishreads @bitchesuntitled @covetyou @futuraa-free @freelancearsonist @fhatbhabie @magpiepillsjunior
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ashsolar · 9 hours
Text
favourite thingᯓ★ln4
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most of the chapter is smut, so proceed with caution.
last chapter you guys🥹, i do have a lot more drafts but this will be my last writing project for a bit, the whole series was a bit too short for my liking but i really enjoyed writing this story.
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chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four
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Coming back to a place you once thought of as your home is never easy, what’s even difficult is saying goodbyes to the things you once cherished. It’s been years since your grandfather died and you know it’s time to sell the one thing you had been dreading to sell in order to set yourself free.
𐙚
chapter five
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You stood in a flower shop, surrounded by colourful flowers. Butterflies hopping from one flower to another for food. The scenery in front of you reminded you of that one trip to a garden in Monaco. You took each flower in your hand, smelling each one. The scent of the flowers was intoxicating. You had a small tin bucket in your hand, taking an orange tulip from a bunch and kept it in your bucket. Your bucket was filled with flowers that were in the colours, white, pink, lilac and orange by the time you reached the counter. You handed the silver can to the florist and watched in awe as she wrapped the flowers into brown wrapping paper, the flowers being wrapped into a beautiful and colourful bouquet. You hoped these flowers would last until they reached Lando in Australia. Walking out of the little shop, bouquet in hand, scrolling on social media, you came across a video of Lando with a blonde girl, it looked like a chicken shop date. You were familiar with the show, having friends and exes who had been on there before. You clicked on a video, and felt your stomach churn he looked so happy talking to that gorgeous and kind blonde. Insecurity bubbling in your chest once again. You switched your phone off and sighed, heading to a post shop, to send your flowers. You wished these flowers would be a big enough gesture to win Lando back but maybe nothing could fix what you did, no matter how hard you tried.
𐙚
You were sitting in your bed, rotting and watching the Australian Grand Prix, Max was out on DNF. The stakes were high. With Max being out the race was more competitive than ever.
You squealed when you saw that Lando finished on P3. You were beaming with pride and happiness as you clapped your hands together, your day had instantly gotten better, when you saw that smile on his face, though you missed the beard, his new look made him look even more handsome. Your smile widened even more when your phone screen lit up.
Thank you for the flowers they were just what I needed
I am glad you liked them, I am so proud of you
This maybe crossing the boundary, but I miss you
It's not, I miss you too
You knew, now was the right time to see Lando. You immediately booked the earliest flight to Monaco, ready to see Lando. It was time to take things further.
Bags in hand, you roamed around in the JFK airport, palms sweaty as you looked around, scared and nervous. You were ready for this, you knew it. It would be nice to see him, and relive a couple memories in your old house.
𐙚
The familiar breeze hit you as soon as you stepped out of the airport, the same sweet smell of the coast. Children giggling, stars illuminating the night sky. Expensive cars everywhere, girls and boys arms decked with shopping bags. Getting in your taxi, you rolled down the windows, letting the familiar air provide you solace. You didn't realise when you reached the house. You raised your hand to knock on the door but immediately retracted it. Turning around, your legs shaking. you were nervous and rightfully so. You took deep breaths, steadying yourself. You turned around towards, the large and posh door and finally knocked, you were greeted with a sleepy Lando, just like you were that one night.
"Y/N, what are you doing here".
You tucked a couple strands of your hair behind your ears, "I-I think I am in love with you" You spoke, your voice dropping a couple octaves as you see his eyes widen. You hoped his eyes widened in delight and not horror, "Say something, please'.
That's it, that's when he kissed you, the kiss wasn't like the kiss you both shared last time. This kiss was earth shattering, a kiss that took you to a world where no one was there except you both. You both released your pent up frustrations and emotions into the kiss. Both of your hands all over each other. Grasping at one another, as if one of you would disappear any second, and this would all just be a dream. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly, you wrapped your arms around his neck as your kiss got heated. You both stumbled back as he tried to close the main door. He lifted you in his arms, the scene looked life it was straight from a movie. Butterflies in both of your stomachs. He gently placed you on his king sized bed, hovering over you as he caressed your cheek. His eyes filled with love, nobody had ever looked at you the same way that this man in front of you was. Your hair was splayed in all directions, your lips swollen because of the force and pressure of your kiss, "You look so beautiful, in front of me like this".
"Lando". You whispered slowly, grabbing his necklace and pulling him into another kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist as your manicured fingers caressed his back.
"Tonight's all about you", He held you gently in his arms as he undid the buttons of your shirt and threw it across the room, groaning at the sight of your white lace bra. You looked like a fallen angel, like his guardian angel sent from heaven just for him and only him. You looked at him dreamily as he undid your jeans, removing your navy blue sambas as he climbed back up, leaving feather light kisses from your navel to the shell of your ear. His lips grazed the shell of your ear, "I missed you so much, I can't wait to show you how much".
You looked at him, boldly, "Then show me how much". You palmed his hard on through his sweatpants and gasped as he grabbed your hand and pinned it to the bed, "Not so fast princess". The nickname send waves of excitement through your body.
You threw your head back as you felt him grab your clothed breasts, rubbing your nipple in his pointer finger and thumb. He dragged the straps of your bra off of your shoulder. Your bare breasts being revealed to him., "Fuck". He was awestruck looking at the woman underneath him, panting, hair a mess.
He lowered himself down to your core as he rubbed his fingers over your clothed wetness, dragging your underwear down your legs with his teeth. He kissed your clit softly, he shoved his tongue inside, gathering your slick, your hands made their way to his curly locks, the action making him groan. That sound sent vibrations through your core. He shoved his fingers inside one by one, your moans increasing with each move of his finger. The pleasure being too overwhelming for you. You tasted just the way he had imagined, sweet and powerful.
He removed his sweatpants, as he looked at you as if looking for a sign, wanting to know if you were comfortable. You nodded. He grabbed his aching cock and shoved it inside your cunt, trying not to hurt you. Your nails grazed his back, as you moaned loudly, drawing lines on his back. You wrapped your legs around his waist again, the new angle taking you to heights you never knew possible. You pulled him into another wild kiss. Your touches were electrifying, bringing you both to an edge, you moaned and collapsed your head into his shoulder and pulled at his back. Everything pulsed, overwhelming both of your senses as you both reached your peak. He climbed off of you.
You both panting, trying to catch your breaths. He turned towards you and intertwined both of your hands together. His hand slowly crept on your back pulling you closer to him, You wrapped your arms around him. His warmth and scent providing you the assurance you needed, he kissed the crown of your head, as he rubbed your back, "Never leave me ever again".
"Promise" You spoke linking both of your pinkies together. You gave him a small peck on his cheek.
𐙚
You stood in the balcony, admiring the serene view. Your body clad in one of Lando's black hoodies. As you rested your shoulders on the black vintage railing. It was early in the morning, the sun hadn't come out yet but it was going to soon you knew it. You flinched when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, "Good Morning". He spoke, pecking your neck,"You know, I almost thought I would be waking up alone again".
You turned around in his grasp, and caressed his neck, "I never did properly apologise for what I did".
His hold around you tightened, "You don't have to". You shook your head, "No it's not, I was just scared about how I felt about you, the truth is I fell for you the moment I saw you".
He took in a sharp breath as he caressed your cheek, he grabbed you by the chin and pulled you into a kiss, "Let's go on a date tonight a proper one".
You smiled, "I would love that". You whispered pecking his lips, before dragging him inside, "Let's get ready".
𐙚
You roamed around in the streets of Monaco, shopping bags in hand and hopped from one store to another, in search of the perfect dress for tonight. It had to be perfect, classy just like you. You stepped in one of the stores. Rubbing your hands over the fabric of each and every dress. By the time you reached the dressing rooms, your hands were filled with dresses. Flowy, body con, you name it. You tried on each dress, admiring your reflection in the mirror. You came across this one red dress, it was tight at the right places, it accentuated your features in the best way possible. You smiled in satisfaction and bought the dress checking out of the store. You couldn't wait to see the look on Lando's face tonight.
𐙚
You sat on a chair in front of a mirror, doing your makeup. Lando was waiting downstairs waiting for you to get ready. You tucked your hair into a bun, you pulled some strands of your hair from the bun, to sharpen your features more. You put your hand on the railing as you walked down the stairs. The clicking sound of your heels, made him turn around, he smiled at you before his jaw went slack, his mouth opened widely. He walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, "You look stunning".
"You don't look bad yourself" You giggled
You both sat in his Mclaren, his hand resting on your thigh. You had shared so many memories in this car, all good ones and now here you are making way for new ones. The restaurant was located at a secluded spot on the streets. You and Lando sat in front of each other. You moaned in delight, as you tasted the Alfredo sitting in front of you, "And I thought you made noises like that with me and me only".
You blushed, swallowing the pasta quickly. He smiled and grabbed your hand from across the table, he caressed your hand, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, "I want to go to the beach with you" You spoke taking another bite of your pasta, "And I want a bite of your food". You laughed poking your fork in his plate and twirling the pasta around your fork.
You both sat in silence on the sandy shore, your head resting on his shoulder, "I've been meaning to ask you something". Your smile turned into a frown as you looked at him. A nervous pit forming in your chest.
"Move in with me, move to Monaco with me".
"What'. You gasped not believing what he just said
"I love you and I am sure of it, I want spend every moment of my life with you, let's start by you moving in with me".
𐙚
Five years in the making, if someone told you five years ago that you would be married to Lando Norris. You would laugh at their face but now you were expecting your first child with the love of your life. It all started with a matter as trivial as buying a house, then a search to find your hobby, your favourite thing, heartbreak and finally happily ever after. You were happy, happier than you had ever been. You were too dense to notice that your favourite thing had always been there in front of you. Lando Norris was the one person you cherished more than anything. He was your favourite thing.
fin.
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@eviethetheatrefreak🧡
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writingcroissant · 50 minutes
Text
The Lie of Windhaven | Azriel x reader [Part 2]
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The Lie of Windhaven [Masterlist] here!
Summary: Azriel has dragged her into a mess she now has to do her best to survive. People show their true colours, and others drop a name.
A/N: I did iiiit!! And we can all thank @bellaskhakhiskirt for the extra encouragement that had me finish this tonight haha. Thank you guys so so much for all your sweet comments on part 1!! I got a bit overwhelmed replying to everything, so just know that I read them all (sometimes multiple times a day) and they make me so happy! 🥹🫶
Word count: 4222
Warnings: language, canon typical violence and ✨misogyny✨, brief description of SA and physical abuse
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Previously:
“I have the right to demand her hand,” Azriel said, and her brows twitched closer together at his choice of words.
“I beg your pardon?”
The right?
Devlon swivelled around, furious that Azriel hadn’t yet dropped the discussion.
Elas scoffed. “Oh yeah? And what right is that?”
Azriel’s eyes met hers then, and the determination she saw reflected within them had her heart drop to her stomach. She knew in that moment what he was planning to do, the lies he planned to weave.
“No,” she breathed again just as Azriel opened his mouth to doom them both.
“She’s my mate.”
And just like that, every head within hearing distance turned to look at her.
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A beat of silence.
“No,” Devlon declared. “Absolutely not.”
Azriel held her gaze for a moment longer, as though willing her to play along, but she felt her insides boil with anger as he turned back to look at Devlon, his expression as collected as ever.
“Are you questioning the Cauldron?”
She knew what he was doing. The mating bond was held above all else—untouchable by any rules or previous alliances. If Azriel officially claimed her as his mate, no other male in the camp would dare touch her, and no engagement, betrothal or marriage would stand.
A fine plan in theory, only there was one problem.
It was a lie.
And to impersonate a mating bond …
Devlon had killed for far less.
The warlord’s attention still lay on her and she could see every last bit of his hatred burn bright as day in the black pits of his eyes.
“There’s no way she’s your mate,” Elas said, a deep crease between his brows as he, too, continued to look at her as though the answer would be found on her face. “She would not have accepted my proposal if she was.”
“She did not know,” Azriel said. “The bond only snapped in place for me when I saw her in the dining hall last night. It caught me off guard.”
“She cannot possibly be your mate,” Devlon said, his voice low and menacing, his eyes boring into hers.
“She is standing right here.”
Silence fell at her words. Silence so all-consuming, one could have heard a twig snap in the forest bordering on the camp’s north side.
Y/N regretted her words almost instantly, the look in Devlon’s eyes cold enough to kill, but part of her eased when she felt a presence in her back, tall enough to cast a long shadow. She didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Cassian. She could tell from Azriel’s lack of a reaction.
She hadn’t even noticed him rounding the courtyard from where he’d stood on the opposite end, but she was thankful for his presence, shielding her not only from some of the stares but also from Devlon’s immediate wrath.
“You want to be part of this conversation?” Devlon growled through barely parted teeth. “Fine. Be part of it. Come here, now.”
She did her best to maintain the slippery grip on her composure as she bridged the last remaining steps setting her apart from the three men. Cassian remained where he was, and she felt the distance grow like she was swimming further away from a safe shore and straight into shark infested waters.
Devlon never took his eyes off her, and when she stood close enough to their little group, she felt like she was shrinking beneath his calculating gaze.
“Did you know of this supposed bond?”
Her teeth clenched briefly, and in her mind, she cursed Azriel for dragging her—dragging them both into this situation.
“No, my lord.”
“And you accepted Elas’ proposal earlier today?”
“Yes, my lord.”
He hummed. “And this new … revelation,” he stated with a quick glance at Azriel. “You do not share the shadowsinger’s sentiments? You do not feel a mating bond?”
Her mouth clapped shut. What was she supposed to say to that? Of course she didn’t feel a bond. She didn’t feel it because it did not exist, but admitting to it would cost Azriel big time.
They wouldn’t kill him—he was too precious for that—but they’d punish him by punishing everyone he loved. And they’d start with Cassian.
He was powerful too, sure—powerful enough to receive seven Siphons of his own. But they didn’t adorn his armour yet, and he was neither a shadowsinger nor a future High Lord, which left him unprotected amongst his brothers.
“As of right now,” she began, her eyes flickering to Azriel for only a second. “No, my lord.”
“It did not yet snap in place for her,” Azriel said, and for the first time, a note of tension crept into his words. “Which means she cannot yet feel it. Surely, you’re aware of the technicalities, Devlon?”
“Don’t condescend to me, boy,” Devlon snapped. “I will have you whipped no matter how many shadows you wield.”
Silence settled once again, and after a long, tense pause, Devlon straightened his back, crossing his arms behind it.
“I want proof.”
Azriel remained quiet.
It was Elas who spoke next.
“You cannot mean to entertain this nonsense, my lord,” he said, his voice hard as he stared Azriel down. “She has agreed to marry me. I have her friends to bear witness.”
“Be that as it may, another has laid claim to her,” Devlon said, his mouth twisted as though every word tasted bitter on his tongue. “The mating bond must be honoured, no matter how … unfortunate a match. You will wait to wed her until I have something to either prove or disprove the existence of this bond.”
“What do you mean, proof?” Y/N said, hesitance in her words. “How would one go about proving a mating bond?”
The smile Devlon gave was cruel, and before she knew it, his hand had shot forward to wrap tightly around her arm, dragging her close enough for his breath to hit her face with the words he spoke next.
“It would do you good to remember your place, girl. You address me properly or I will have you stripped bare for a good lashing,” he growled low enough for his words to hum through her very bones. “Proof means proof. If this godsforsaken bond was real, you’d know how to prove it. For starters, our dear shadowsinger over here would feel everything you felt.” His eyes flickered to Azriel, though his grip remained bruising on her arm. “Perhaps we should test the theory right now?”
A blade flashed in his hand—one she hadn’t noticed him draw from the sheath by his hip.
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw ticked. “Cutting her will prove nothing.”
“Maybe not,” Devlon said, straightening where he stood, though his hand remained where it was. “But slitting her throat will do wonders to rid us of this little disturbance.”
“I leave for three days, and you start threatening to slit people’s throats, Devlon?” a new voice drawled, sounding almost bored.
Y/N’s eyes flickered to the side, and a wave of relief crashed over her at the sight of Rhysand standing next to Cassian. If there was one person who’d manage to get them all out of this unscathed, it was Rhys.
His wings were out, hands buried in the pockets of his pants, head tilted as he took in the scene before him. “I take it your news have not been received well, Azriel?”
The relief she felt dropped to her stomach like a stone.
Azriel remained silent, his attention resting on her.
“You knew of this?” Devlon’s eyes were ablaze as he stared at Rhys.
“Well, of course,” Rhysand said, sighing softly through his nose. “What part of ‘I can see into people’s minds’ has you baffled?”
A quiet snort sounded from the remaining crowd of onlookers, and Devlon’s face twisted with rage.
“I’m warning you now, boy,” he growled. “You might be the High Lord’s son, but he’s given me permission to treat you as I would any other soldier, so you watch your—”
“Fascinating,” Rhys drawled, picking a piece of lint from the cuff of his leathers. “But be that as it may, I can attest to the validity of this bond.”
She would throttle him.
Her eyes flickered back to Azriel and the calm gaze he kept on her.
She would throttle them both.
There was not the slightest hint of a doubt that somehow Azriel had managed to get Rhys on board with this moronic plan. Which meant that not only had he endangered her, but he’d also endangered his friends. Because if Rhys knew, she was willing to bet what little money she had that Cassian knew as well.
“He’s the shadowsinger’s friend,” Elas spat, features taut. “Of course he would say that.”
Devlon finally let go of her arm, though it was only so he could lift his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“I want you all out of my sight.” He growled.
“But, my lord, I—”
“Now,” Devlon snapped, shooting Elas a look that had his mouth clap shut at once. “You will not wed her until I say so. I require proof I can trust.”
It was Azriel who spoke next. “And what would adequate proof entail if the word of a daemati does not suffice?”
Devlon looked at him for a long while then. As though contemplating whether to cut out his tongue for daring to speak.
“I shall have a high priestess give her assessment.”
Once again, the blood ran cold in her veins.
No one in the entirety of Prythian knew bonds quite as well as the priestesses did. They would be able to sniff out a lie from a mile away.
“I will send for one first thing tomorrow morning and until she arrives, neither one of you is to wed this one.” His mouth twisted with distaste as he threw her a last withering look before turning to address every Illyrian within earshot. “Now, if I have to repeat myself one more time, I will have you all running lapses until the sun rises tomorrow morning. Get out of my sight!”
Y/N had just turned to catch the wide eyes of Lissa and Malina, her heart pounding, when another hand found her arm. This time, however, it was with the gentle grip of long fingers curling around the back of her elbow.
“Come with me, sweetheart,” Cassian muttered in her ear, and before she knew it, her feet were rushing to catch up with his long strides as he headed straight for the hut at the edge of the camp she knew belonged to Rhysand’s mother.
-
Her eyes were ablaze as Azriel stepped through the door of the hut, her fists clenched by her sides. Cassian stood at the small kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression grim.
Her mouth opened and Azriel knew what to expect.
“How dare you,” she breathed, and his jaw clenched at her tone. “How dare you ruin this for me. He was my one choice, Azriel. My one option.”
“He was not—”
“He was!” she snapped, her voice gaining in volume, her brows pinched in rage. “And even if he wasn’t, he was who I chose. You took away my choice and in doing so you practically guaranteed my death. I never would have thought you to be so cruel.”
“Cruel?” Azriel gaped at her. “I am doing this to help you.”
“I never asked you to!” Her voice began to wobble now, her eyes growing glassy, though her cheeks remained dry. “In fact, I explicitly recall telling you that we were over.”
“So you expected me to sit back and watch him turn you into an empty shell? A womb to be filled?” Azriel’s voice was of calm disbelief, his mask carefully locked in place to hide the burning anger that threatened to swallow him whole.
“Well, now you get to watch Devlon slit my throat once the priestess tells him that this bond is a load of bullshit, so thank you for that.” She laughed without an ounce of joy. “I hope you’re happy with that outcome.”
“He won’t kill you.”
“He will. In case you didn’t notice, he almost killed me today.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“You are not my knight in shining armour just because I let you fuck me a couple times, Azriel,” she spat, the fury now bright as day in the depths of her eyes, and Azriel swallowed at the impact of her words.
Silence settled—silence thick enough it threatened to drown him—and as he stared at her, he could see it all. He saw the deeply rooted fear in her eyes, the anger he’d caused, the desperation in the face of a bleak future, and he took a step back.
“I know,” he spoke quietly.
“Do you?” She stared at him. “Because I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t have gone and invented a fucking mating bond.”
When Azriel remained quiet, she rubbed angrily at the tear that had escaped her left eye to trail down her cheek at last.
“I need to go,” she muttered, walking around him in an arch as big as the room allowed to head for the door. “I need to speak to Elas. I need to apologise.”
Every part of him screamed to stop her from leaving. He didn’t want her anywhere near Elas and his rage, but he’d done enough for one day. She wouldn’t allow him to touch her right now, wouldn’t listen to his requests, and so he stepped aside and suppressed a flinch as the door fell closed behind her.
A few silent moments ticked by, and when Cassian spoke, his words rang loudly through the silent hut, though his tone was uncommonly gentle.
“Did you think this through, brother?”
A joyless smile twisted the corners of Azriel’s lips. “What do you think?”
-
“Elas, please,” she said, rushing to catch up with the Illyrian’s long strides as he headed for the hut he shared with three other warriors. “I swear I didn’t know Azriel was going to do that. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, I—”
The Illyrian scoffed. “A mating bond, apparently.”
“I didn’t know,” she repeated and hated the way her voice sounded as she did so. No part of her wanted to beg Elas for forgiveness when it was Azriel who’d dragged her into this mess.
She stumbled to a halt when Elas swung around, his eyes ablaze as he loomed over her.
“You didn’t know? Interesting,” he drawled in a tone so unmatching of the fury in his face. “But you are aware that you’ve been fucking him, yes?”
“I—” she broke off, her brows twitching closer together. “We had a … fling, yes. But it was over before I accepted your proposal.”
He stared at her, unblinking, and when her skin began to crawl, she curled her hands into fist by her sides, willing herself not to cower.
“I didn’t think it would matter,” she said matter-of-factly.
“It’s obvious that you didn’t think.” His voice dropped to a hum now, his upper lip curling in distaste. “Don’t assume for one second that I would have asked for your hand if I’d known that—”
“That what?” she hissed, her teeth clenched as she took a step closer, her anger getting the better of her. “That I have a sex life? May I ask how many people you’ve slept with, Elas?”
He moved before she could react, and his knuckles where sharp as he slapped her across the face with the back of his hand.
She gasped with the impact, her head swivelling to the side, her feet stumbling where she stood, the world around her suddenly swaying. He was on her then, gripping her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze before she could even think to collect herself, and her hand instinctively shot up to wrap around his wrist for stability. 
His nose was mere inches from hers, his next words a quiet hiss.
“That I’d be marrying a whore.” She felt his breath on her face, her jaw aching beneath the hard grip of his hand. But she held his gaze with quiet defiance. “I allowed you to keep your wings intact because I thought you knew where your priorities lie. I thought we had an agreement. We could have been good together. We could have been content.”
He took a deep breath through his nose and for a brief moment, she wondered whether he could smell the fear she so desperately tried to suppress.
“I shall still wed you once this nonsense is dealt with, but do not expect a marriage from me. You’ll do for carrying my offspring, but I have no desire to give a good life to another’s fuck toy.”
She felt her throat clog up, doing everything to will back the tears that threatened to shoot to her eyes.
“I was wrong about you,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “You’re just like the others. And I’d rather die than marry you.”
Elas hummed, and when the corners of his lips curled into a little smirk, her heart sank further.
“I’m guessing your chances of dying are pretty good once Devlon has proof that this bond is a scam—which we both know it is,” he said, the words almost sensual as they rolled off his tongue. “But either way, I staked my claim. I have your word, and I have witnesses to prove it. So in the unlikely event of your survival, you shall belong to me.” Lifting the hand he didn’t keep wrapped around her aching jaw, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, the gesture almost gentle. “And what fun I’ll have humiliating you as you have humiliated me.”
His eyes moved to her lips then and she could feel her bottom lip begin to wobble with the harshness of his words and the future they promised.
She noted the way he exhaled through his nose in a quiet scoff, and next thing she knew, horror coursed through her veins as he lowered his mouth to hers.
His fingers pressed deep into her skin, his grip crushing on the bones of her jaw, preventing her from backing away. And when his mouth covered hers and he pried her lips open for his tongue to lick deep into her mouth, she gave a choked sob.
She pulled on his wrist, her hands hitting his shoulders in an attempt to shove him off her, but she was too weak. She was powerless, as she’d never been allowed to train. And suddenly she realised why Illyrian males were so keen on keeping their women defenceless.
There was nothing gentle in Elas’ kiss; none of the passion she’d felt heating her blood whenever Azriel had kissed her. Elas was demanding—harsh in the way he claimed her mouth and unrelenting in his hold on her jaw.
He tilted her head back, forcing himself closer to her and his tongue deeper into her mouth. His teeth scraped harshly against her lips, and when he finally pulled back, she felt the sting of split skin.
The breath was tearing in and out of her lungs now, and immediately, she clenched her teeth hard enough to hear her jaw give a crunching groan.
Elas hummed again, tilting his head with an eyebrow raised in mockery. “Yes, you’ll certainly do.”
When he finally, finally let go of her, it was with a shove that had her falter where she stood.
Her eyes were burning now. But she wouldn’t cry. Not here, not in front of him.
Elas turned around, and as he headed towards his hut, he threw snide words over his shoulder.
“It’ll be interesting to find out what it is that has the shadowsinger so wrapped up that he’ll risk losing his life over a cunt.”
She stared after him, unable to move as she let his words sink in.
It was ironic, really. In his attempt to spare her from a future he thought as bad as it would get, Azriel had only managed to guarantee her a fate much worse.
It dawned on her then. That she’d spent the rest of her life in agony. She’d spent the rest of her immortal existence utterly miserable. At Elas’ mercy—assaulted, disrespected, alone. All he’d done just then had been a glimpse into the future that awaited her.
A sob tore through her—one she could neither stop nor muffle—and just when she was about to crumble entirely right then and there in the middle of the camp, gentle hands found her arm.
“Not here,” Malina spoke quietly. “Don’t let them see.”
A gentle tug on her arm had Y/N stumble along her friend’s side, until a familiar, dusty scent filled her nostrils.
The supply hut.
Perfect.
Her eyes flickered to the table she’d sat on last night and suddenly she felt the urge to laugh in the face of all the things that had gone wrong in less than twenty-four hours. It would have been hysterical, had it not been so … final.
It was Lissa who brushed loose hair from her face. Her big, round eyes were filled with concern, and at the wetness on her cheeks, Y/N realised that she hadn’t been laughing after all.
“He’s going to make my life a living hell,” she heard herself say, her voice hoarse, her tone dull. Despite the tears streaming down her face, she felt numb. Like her mind had been disconnected from her body.
“We saw,” Lissa spoke quietly, brushing her fingers through her friend’s hair in a soothing manner. “I never would have thought him to be so … vicious.”
Y/N scoffed weakly. Because hadn’t she known him to be a vicious fighter? She realised then that it had been naïve of her to assume he’d be any different when it came to his wife.
“You won’t end up with him,” Malina stated, and she sounded almost sure enough to be convincing. Almost.
“Please stop,” Y/N spoke softly. “I can’t take this irrational confidence from you too. It is futile.”
“Only if your bond to Azriel can be disproven, and the Cauldron never miss—”
“The bond does not exist.” A wave of exhaustion crashed into her as she lowered herself to the edge of the wooden table, lifting her palms to press the heels of her hands over her eyes. Her head was throbbing. She wanted to lie down. “Azriel made it up.”
Silence fell over the dusty little cabin. And it seemed to stretch on forever.
She didn’t want to lift her head, didn’t want to see the horror on her friends’ faces as they realised the true extent of her predicament.
“We’ll have to fake it, then.”
To everyone’s surprise, it was Lissa who’d spoken the words.
“You cannot fake a mating bond,” Y/N muttered.
“Oh, sure you can,” Malina said, and when Y/N lifted her gaze, she shrugged. “Or Azriel would not have attempted it. He’s smart, darling. Smarter than all of us. And he’s obviously trying to help you, so I’d suggest you follow his lead.”
“He went behind my back,” Y/N said, her forehead creasing. “And he ruined every plan I made for myself. For my life.”
“You despised those plans.”
“That doesn’t matter, he—”
“It does matter.” Malina sighed as she propped a hand on her hip. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. But I’m thinking you need to consider your current situation and set your priorities accordingly.”
Y/N lifted a brow. “What?”
“What I’m saying is you need to focus on getting through this first. You can be angry with Azriel later. What’s done is done. There’s no going back so you might as well go with it to try and save yourself instead of wasting time on holding a pointless grudge.”
“She’s right,” Lissa said tentatively, smoothing a warm palm down the length of Y/N’s back as she sank to the table next to her. “She could have said it a little nicer, but she’s right.”
Malina snorted.
“And besides, you only need to convince one person, how hard can that be?” Malina waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’ve always been convinced the priestesses fake it anyway.”
“There are only twelve, right?” Lissa asked.
“Yes, and Devlon sent for one he can trust to be impartial.” Malina scoffed. “You can say what you want about him but when it comes to the mating bond, he really doesn’t fuck around. He’ll have her flown in and all.”
That caught Y/N’s attention. Having a priestess flown in meant that she was too far to winnow.
“She doesn’t reside in the Night Court?.”
Malina tilted her head, a glint in her eyes. “You’re trying to steal his prized shadowsinger, of course he’s going to get someone that couldn’t have been bribed by Azriel or his brothers.”
Y/N lifted a brow at her friend. “You heard him say all that?”
“Oh, yeah,” Malina said, and a smirk stretched over her face. “You’d be surprised what they let you hear when they think you’re of next to no use to anyone.”
Y/N sighed through her nose and let her face sink back into her open palms, wincing at the tenderness of her jaw. She could feel the slight swelling of her cheekbone, a smudge of blood landing on her hand where she held it pressed to her lip.
Lissa’s interest seemed piqued at Malina’s words. “I thought most of the priestesses lived in the Night Court,” she said, curiosity in her tone. “Where is he flying her in from?”
“I forgot.” Malina waved her hand again. “Some super spiritual priestess temple. I heard him say that she’s their newest member. Ianthe, I think her name was.”
-
Taglist Part I:
@byyalady @tele86 @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @justrepostandlove @starriestarlight @tele86 @waytoomanyteenagefeels @ryekoo @azriel-shadowsingerr @amygdtjhddzvb @ohhellotherebumblebee @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @astarlitsoul @amysangel @fxckmiup @ruler-of-hades @whitewolfsbitch @threespacemonkeys @mell-bell @sillysillygoose444 @quiettuba @itsswritten @brujitafantomatico @badpvn @justrepostandlove @of-outerspace @bakananya @iamjimintrash @starseedsamurai @balsalmic-vinegar @secretlyhers @the-spine-of-the-world @lees-chaotic-brain @helloevilmuffins @cinnamonmelody @jediknightjana @acourtof-wingspan @nxgh1 @aactuaaltraash @marigold-morelli @thatsassyhufflepuff @darlingbravebelle @anxious-study @thisisew @that-one-little-soybean @brieflyclassymortal @isa1b2h3 @julesofvolterra @prettylittlewrites @i-am-infinite @thecraziestcrayon @spellbinding-snoozles
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wa-royal-tea · 3 days
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Previous | Beginning | Next
(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)
@thebrixtons​​
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Author’s Note: The story Alfie is reading to the children is loosely inspired by the Malay Folklore; Legend of Puteri Gunung Ledang
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Ginny (on the phone): Can we add fairy lights around the dance platform? Maybe some canopy curtains too?
Catalina: What colour do you want it to be in?
Ginny: Maybe white? Or do you have any other suggestions?
Indirah: I think white is good. Maybe we can hang the fairy lights on the curtains too.
Ginny: Ooh~ Good idea!
Catalina: Alright, do you have any other decorations you want to add?
Ginny: Well, I do have something in mind…
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*knock knock*
Rainier (from outside the room): Ginny? Are you in there?
Ginny: Yeah! Don’t come in!
Rainier: Why? What are you doing in there?
Ginny: I’m working on my dress. You can’t see it yet!
Rainier: *chuckles* Okay~ I made strawberry cheesecake for tea time. Come and eat with me when you’re done~
Ginny: Alright. Give me a minute!
Ginny *thinking*: Hmm the wedding dress is almost done. All that is left are the bridesmaid's dresses.
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*phone rings*
Alfie: Don’t pick it up.
Catalina: *breathless* It’s Ginny’s ringtone. I think she wants to talk about the wedding preparation.
Alfie: Urgh, cockblocker.
Catalina: *giggles*
Catalina: Hey, Ginny. What’s up?
Catalina: Mhm, I see…
Catalina: Oh, I think I already— *gasps*
Catalina: Wh-what are you doing?
Alfie: Don’t mind me. Continue the call.
Catalina: Alfie— Sorry, Ginny. Can you repeat that?
Catalina: *voice shaking* Y-yeah. I think red is nice.
Catalina: *gasps* I-I’m fine. I…I accidentally dropped something.
Catalina: *breathless* It’s getting late here. C-can we continue the call tomorrow? Yeah, okay bye.
Alfie: *playfully* Done already? I was just getting started.
Catalina: You are in a big trouble, Mr. Frederick.
Alfie: Ooh~ I’m so scared.
Catalina: You’re not sleeping tonight until I’m done with you.
Alfie: Is that a threat, Mrs. Frederick?
Catalina: *scoffs* It’s a promise.
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Indirah: Wow, you ordered more than usual. Are you getting the cinnamon roll for Alfie?
Catalina: Huh? This? Nope. They’re mine!
Indirah: Whoa, you must be very hungry. I thought you hate those?
Catalina: I just want to give it a try. They’re not too bad!
Indirah: *chuckles* I’m glad you’re enjoying them then.
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[Scene transitions to Lina and Alfie going on an engagement, maybe cutting ribbons for the opening of the children’s library? Alfie reads a book for the children.]
Alfie:…the King fell in love with the Princess after seeing her beauty and asks for her hand in marriage. But the Princess has set several conditions for him before she can agree to his proposal.
Ali: What are the conditions?
Hanna: Yeah! Tell us, Mr. Prince!
Alfie: The Princess’ conditions are; the King must build a golden palace for her to live in and a golden bridge all the way from Mount Belcoast to Mount Silvie for her to walk to and from. She then would also want seven barrels of tears from a young maiden for her to bathe in. And a bowl of the blood of the King’s young heir.
Hope: Whoa! That sounds crazy impossible!
Ali: Right? Why would she give him all that conditions?
Catalina: Well, that’s actually her way of subtly telling him that she doesn’t want to marry him.
Alfie: Exactly. And in the end, the King got the hint and returned to his Kingdom. He’d rather not sacrifice his child just to marry someone.
Hanna: Wah~ The King is a good dad! Just like my appa!
Hope: Tell us more stories, please!
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Catalina: You’re going to be a great dad one day, Alfie.
Alfie: Why’d you say that?
Catalina: You’re good with kids. And I know you’re going to be great to our kids.
Catalina: It’s just like a dream I had. You and the children, asleep on the bed after you read them bedtime stories.
Catalina: Just remembering that dream again makes me so happy.
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Ginny: *content sigh* This feels like a dream. Everything feels so perfect.
Rainier: Well, if it is. I don’t want to wake up.
Ginny: I can’t wait for our wedding. It’s going to be perfect.
Rainier: I know. I can’t wait too. We’ve waited so long for this.
Ginny: You make me so happy. I don’t deserve you.
Rainier: You do. You deserve everything good in this world.
Rainier: And I’ll continue to make you happy. Until we’re old and grey.
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ch3rries-n-cream · 3 days
Note
Hi! Could I request an angst oneshot about Kit Walker in Briarcliff please? :)
ahhhh of course honey, kit's an absolute sweetheart and i adore him so much honestly
a/n: so sorry this took so long for me to post lmao, sorry it's so short as well, I don't usually write this little :(
~ you said you'd never leave ~
kit walker x reader
warnings: mentions of torture at briarcliff but that's about it tbh
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You were beginning to lose all hope; truly. You never were one to be pessimistic. Though more days where you failed to feel the sun on your face again, or the rain kiss your cheeks, you knew your life may have ended then and there. Some people just weren't meant to get lucky.
You sat alone. Like you always did. You preferred it that way. It seemed as though others in the asylum were scared of you. The rumours that you chopped up your family in the kitchen of your family home spread like wildfire. Funny, you pondered. That the atrocities of people in this pit of hell based first impressions of you upon assumptions they convinced themselves was reality. You didn't mind. You never did. Not really.
You remember meeting him; the memory exploded in your mind like fireworks, bleeding crepuscular colours over the blank canvas of the dull ache the asylum reduced you to. For the first time in two years, you no longer felt lonesome. The steady aching of your heart longed for him. To touch him. To feel him. To love him. Kit Walker was undeniably the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. You think, now looking back, that's why it hurt as much as it did.
You remember it well. That incessant song replaying over and over in your mind. Though you'd learnt to drown it out. The music was loud but your thoughts were louder. He came and sat across from you. His eyes pouring into yours, the darkened hues warm and inviting. You swore then and there that you'd drown in them and die happy. Your heart thudded. Loud, beating. Had he heard it not? He most definitely did.
"The name's Kit." He smiled. His smile, like his gaze, was warm. Soft and sweet, too pure for a place like this. His voice dripped like honey, sweetening your mood. You were convinced he'd give you toothaches with a voice like that.
"Y/N." Your hands stayed placed in your lap, back straight. Your eyes fixated on him. The look of innocent adoration ignited the fire crackling deep within Kit's stomach. In some way, he felt guilty. He was married.
"I've heard about you." The words flower with ease. You maintained eye contact. You dared not look away; not once. Kit shifted in his place across from you, avoiding looking at your eyes. He felt vulnerable. The dullness evident in your irises, broken and bruised. Though he dared not ask.
These weren't the first words Kit wished to hear. Who hadn't heard about him? The grotesque image that had been painted about him sat heavy in his stomach, the nausea swarmed him like waves. Though unlike those crashing against shores, these waves are violent. Unpleasant.
"Funny," Kit responded, desperate to shift conversation away from him. "I don't think I've heard about you."
You cocked your head to the side, eyebrow raised in amusement. He's changing the subject. That much you knew. And you let him; he'd open up when he was ready. They always do.
He continued. "I definitely would've remembered if I had."
He smiled.
There it was. That's what got you.
Those perfectly crafted lines on his cheeks as he smiled. Basking in the pearly whites that he offered you. Through the mediocre attempt at flirting you could see it. Pain, guilt, innocence. All the emotions you could envision all at once. You understood him. Though you needn't want to pry, you couldn't help the subtle curiosity about him that spiked the more you two got to know each other. You relished in those moments. Cherished them. And for the first time, you felt hopeful again.
..............................................................................................................................
"Kiss me." He said it so innocently, looking down at you with heavy lids, sultry and desperate. Longing for any human connection he could conjure. Kit clawed at your shoulders, caressing your hands with such a delicate touch that would make angels weep with envy. You stared up at him from the place he remained between your legs, tracing his jaw with your finger, moving them to his lips. Your heart ached for him, as much he did you.
"We could get caught..." you hesitated. And for the first time, you appeared unsure of yourself. You wanted to, God how you wanted to. You couldn't fathom how desperate you were to feel his body pressed against yours, moulded together in perfect connection.
"I'd get caught a thousand times over if it meant kissing you just once."
You suppose it's what drew you to Kit Walker. His charismatic smile that had you melting on your own two feet. Or perhaps it was the way he cradled you so gently. Or even when he told you that he loved you. That when you were both free from this wretched place, he'd marry you and you'd be his and he'd be yours. You never were quite certain.
It was a colder night in November when you realised you loved him.
You guessed it was around 6am. You were sat in your cell, consumed by your own thoughts and before you knew it you were being called for breakfast. It was the usual, eggs and slice of toast. A small portion of berries for after if you were lucky enough. You often refuse it all together, the stale bread leaving an unpleasant aftertaste in your mouth. It was around 7am when you saw him. Covered in bruises, bitter red droplets painted his lips. His eyes were dark and heavy, he hadn't slept at all. He offered you a timid smile as he sat across from you.
You'd been here before. You remembered it all too fondly.
"What have they done to you?" Your voice was hoarse, like a whisper only Kit could hear. Your breathing was shaking, and you emitted the breath you were unaware you were holding. He merely sighed in response, looking down at the floor sheepishly, hesitant to meet your concerned stare.
"They caught us..."
It hit you.
He'd taken a beating for you. The scars on his back would be a constant reminder of the brutality he endured. And it was all for you. Thirty maybe forty whips and lashes of pain to symbolise the undying love he held for you and you alone. Your heart swelled in your chest, the blood pumped like a jolt of electricity igniting the passion deep inside you.
Is this what it felt like? To be in love?
"We're gonna get outta here." Kit had whispered so gently, like he always did. He embraced you with a strong grip, as though he seldom wished to let you go. You nodded in response. In desperation. Wild thoughts ran through your mind, swarming your conscience. You were finally going to get out of here. After all these years. With the man you loved.
..............................................................................................................................
Alas, it was true what he had said. He promised freedom. It had been three days, six hours and forty-two minutes exactly since Kit had escaped the asylum. Three days, six hours and forty-two minutes since he'd left you. Alone once more. His vow of freedom had become nothing but a web of broken promises, shattering your heart into grand shards and leaving you lost among the wreckage.
You'll be twenty-one tomorrow. You'll spend it alone. Enclosed by these daunting walls, broken by the pain of your first love lost. You dreamt of him that night. Those solitude nights spent with nothing but a blank mind became envisions of dark irises and dimpled cheeks. His voice rang like a bell in your ears, you remember it vividly.
"The name's Kit."
Though you let nothing but a single tear drip slowly down your cheek, watching as the droplet lay to rest on your knuckle.
Like said prior, dear reader, some people, perhaps, never were destined to get lucky.
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changingplumbob · 2 days
Text
York Household: Chapter 9, Part 8
Calista and Aaron try out this nectar making contraption then it's time for Kelly's birthday.
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CW: Unicorn zombie with minor carton gore
The Yorks are Italian so if you see them using words that don't look like English it's Italian, or what google assures me is Italian. Caro/Cara: Dear Buongiorno: Good morning Piccolo: Little one Tesoro: Treasure Nonno: Grandfather Nonna: Grandmother Si: Yes Grazie: Thank you Per Favore: Please Buon Compleanno: Happy Birthday
Calista: Buongiorno caro, Buon compleanno
Kelly: Grazie Ma. Pa, did you make my cake
Aaron: One chocolate cake, candle covered, ready for later
Kelly: Better go or I’ll miss the bus, can’t wait to rub my birthday in everyone’s faces!
Calista: He’s sure got enthusiasm
Aaron: Have you see Deanna yet Tesoro
Calista: No but Devin text half an hour ago saying she was heading home and Deanna had slept a good chunk of the night
Aaron: Ready to start our nectar empire?
Calista: *laughs* bring it on
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Aaron: So what do we start with
Calista: Harvesting and watering
Aaron: I meant after that
Calista: I think you need to clarify your questions councillor
Aaron: *laughs* Yes captain
Calista: Let’s do the apples while we get the hang of it, they’re probably going to be less successful than the grapes anyway
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The two get in and start stomping!
Aaron: It feels so weird
Calista: Come on amore, channel your ancestors
Aaron: I’m pretty sure they were all sheep farmers not nectar- UHHH
Calista: Oh and he slips straight on his butt, the crowd goes wild!
Aaron: It’s not like this is a flat surface
Calista: You’ll need a better defense than- UHHH
Aaron: I see you’ve decided to join my sit in
Calista: *laughs* I picked the wrong coloured pants for this
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Despite starting at the same time Aaron finishes his bottle first. They both do a second bottle of apple nectar, they all end up average  despite my thinking they would be poor.
Aaron: Here, I’ll clean this one and you start your grape nectar in it while I clean yours
Calista: You’re just showing off about finishing early
Aaron: Oh Tesoro, you know I show off about everything
Calista: Well maybe finishing early isn’t the brag you think it is. You’ve certainly never bragged about finishing early before. Normally you brag about lasting-
Aaron: Don’t make me sweat, the nectar will go funny
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Despite not feeling like it, Deanna got up, showered, and is working on the homework she was too upset to do last night. At least the lines of physics and comedy take her mind off Paris. Wondering where she is, how she’s doing, who she might have met… She pulls herself together and decides to head to campus early to get her presentation finished before classes.
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I mean if there is a good view while nectar making this has got to be it! Aaron and Calista each make a bottle of grape nectar for the cellar, and discover how more colourful grape splatter is to fall into. When they’re finished they head off to shower off the sticky, but being self absorbed and active sims they both try fit in a workout before the birthday party.
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Luna arrives early and assures Aaron her twins will not be attending the party, Alfred would get overwhelmed and Rilian is still somewhat afraid of Kelly.
Kelly: So this is it Bun Bun. Teenage time. Time to find out if my guesses will be anything close
Bun Bun: *sits in comforting silence*
Kelly: I am going to miss hugging you though. I wish it wasn’t limited to childish sims. Better do one more hug for luck
Calista: Table set, guests invited, cake out. It’s go time!
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Eliza: I love how your house is always tidy
Calista: That’s Aaron, vacuumed everything early this morning
Sims gather round and the traditional birthday song begins. Kelly thinks of his wish, blows the candles and… nothing
Kelly: Why didn’t the candles go out
Joey: Surprise! I got you fake candles for your gift
Kelly: *laughs fakely* Go get me water to put them out if you don’t want me setting you on fire
Joey: *laughing* warning heard
Candles out, time to spin!
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My teenagers get a trait rolled from their parents traits and Kelly has got the over achiever trait from Aaron. Blue is his last favourite colour, he likes basic furniture and style choices are hipster, rocker and polished. New likes include video gaming, malicious interactions, and flirtation. New dislikes include flower arranging, pet enthusiasts and classical music. He’s also rolled being pansexual with romantic attraction to female sims. I'm also trying out randomising the aspiration category and choosing from within that rather than randomising a specific thing (because he rolled Friend of the World, I don't think that fits) so he's going to be trying to become president (still in the popularity section)
Oh yeah and Deanna got a post breakup makeover.
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Anya: So what’s it like being old
Kelly: Weird. And kind of annoying
Drake: Your face is annoying
Kelly: You’re still mad about that sleepover comment? At least I didn’t age up with that makeup disaster on
Drake: Shut up! It’s just my party outfit
Chasity: I think Drake is just revealing his style
Drake: Am not
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Kelly: Grazie for coming
Devin: A thank you? Who are you and what have you done with my brother
Kelly then goes in for a hug, taking me and Devin by surprise.
Devin: You all good gremlin
Kelly: It just... feels strange to be this tall
Devin: Hate to break it to you but actually we’re all short
Kelly: Maybe. Something just feels off
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Luna: Are you hiding in here
Deanna: No. Someone just needed to fix the TV
Joey: And that had to be you because…
Deanna: Because I’m learning handiness for my degree. Why the inquisition?
Luna: I think your hair looks nice. Did you enjoy shopping with Devin
Deanna: I never enjoy shopping. But I am glad to have a proper skin shade now
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serenpedac · 1 day
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"comparing hand-sizes to hold their hand against the other's and then just holding hands" for Gabi and Farah please :) (no pressure!!!!)
PD!!! Thank you for the ask ^^
When seeing the prompt in the preview notification of this ask, my first thought was that I wanted to write this for Gabi and Farah, if there wouldn't be a pairing specified. And then you mentioned Gabi and Farah! That made me very happy haha! 
Words: ~460 Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Female detective/Farah Hauville Warnings: None
Read on Ao3 or below
“... and then he tried to run, but I saw him sneak away and ran after him and of course I was faster, so I did this move and tackled him and— You should have seen it, it was so cool! But then...” Farah’s hands flutter through the air, flashes of neon pink nail polish catching the sunlight, as she tells about an old mission.
Farah rarely sits still, Gabi has observed, her face changing expressions faster than Gabi can keep track of, her feet tapping a rhythm, her entire body moving as if she’s spilling over with life itself. Most of all, it are her hands that tell a story: the small, fiddling motions of her fingers during a boring meeting, the focused, precise movements when she’s concentrated on a drawing, or the wide gesturing she just stopped doing. 
Wait, she stopped? 
Above the hands that are suspended mid-story and mid-air, golden eyes are staring at Gabi from across the table. The twin buns on top of Farah’s head tip sideways as she tilts her head.
“What are you thinking, Gabes?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Nothing? Really?” Leaning her elbows on the table, Farah balances her chair on the front two legs. “That would be the first time ever you’re not thinking about anything.” 
Gabi pushes her hair away, only for it to fall right back across her forehead. Heat spreads up from her neck to her cheeks at being caught, at being known like this. “Alright, then, I was thinking about you. About your hands, if you want me to be specific.”
Farah holds one of her hands before her, lips pressed together in a pout as she considers it. Her nails are perfect, dazzling pink ovals against her dark skin. “You like this new colour? Morgan said it made her eyes burn.” The bright sound of her laughter fills the kitchen. 
“Did she, now?” It’s all too easy to imagine Morgan responding like that, and Gabi shakes her head with a smile. “I like it, it suits you.” She leans forward on the table to take Farah’s hand, pressing hers against it. The last phalanx of each of her fingers sticks out above Farah’s, her own nails blunt and square, the nail beds shortened because of years of nail biting as a child. They’re a far cry from the elegant and neatly manicured hands of the vampire in front of her.
With a quick twist, Farah turns their hands and raises them to press a kiss against Gabi’s knuckles. “I like your hands too, babe.”
An echo of the touch of her lips lingers, warm and soft and leaving Gabi’s chest aflutter. The warmth turns into something hotter, something glowing and molten, when Farah winks and adds, “You’re very skilled with them.”
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spatialwave · 2 days
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limoreau going to a pride parade
djfjdjdjsd this is EVERYTHING to me. pride parades are my safe space. this one isn’t going to be a full fic, more of a scattering of my thoughts 🩵
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this would be jordan's first time going to a pride parade. they usually spent pride month back home because university would wrap up and their parents would never let them go to something like 'that'. even as an adult, jordan was controlled.
marie quite literally said fuck that & invited jordan to the nyc pride march. cate, andre, luke, sam & emma tagged along, too.
the two of them would dress up in bright colours, something a bit out of jordan's comfort zone. they'd be wearing a tight black short-sleeved shirt, rainbow-coloured joggers and their pearl/chain necklace. marie would be wearing a similar outfit to match, but her necklace is a beaded rainbow piece that jordan made her.
their bodies would be covered in various colours of face & body paint, abstract and no clear designs, just colour.
jordan would be the type of pride-goer who is awkward at first and shy under the circumstances. by the end of the parade, they'd have a bigender flag wrapped over their shoulders and shouting in joy with the thousands of others with them.
the love that jordan would feel is astronomical. acceptance in all forms, love in all forms. having their friends, most importantly their girlfriend, with them celebrating pride for the first time publicly.
i imagine that they'd be in their femme form for most of the parade, a form that their father wasn't fond of. a way to say 'fuck you' silently. screw their father's fascination with weaponizing their gender.
the number of times they kiss marie would also be astronomical, never growing tired of the way she would laugh and smile as the paint on their face would smear with each kiss. their friends would watch them in awe, happy to see their love so genuine and free.
to wrap up the pride parade they'd go to a gay nightclub with their friends, spending the night with their arms around marie as they danced the night away. their heart full of love.
going to a pride parade completely changed jordan, for the better. screw the days when they allowed themself to be more than just a checkmark on the diversity box. going forward, they were unafraid to create hell on those who told them differently.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months
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The indescribable tension between an overworked and underpaid smut writer, and his biggest fan hater.
(for @frummpets)
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qosic · 8 months
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I put all my 愛 for the game into this one, to everyone who has beared my shouting about this modern classic for the last 4 years, I thank you!!!
Commissioned by Greg Chun (eng voice of Kaname Date) He will be doing a signing session at a later date where you can get this as a print, go follow him for more info on that!
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seagull-scribbles · 8 months
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They’re out of touch
[1/7] next>
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alkalinefrog · 11 months
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Before the thunder.
I’ve been obsessed with @sboochi’s Storm-Spirit!Hiccup ever since she posted it!! I definitely want to do some fanart of him with Jack later too! Go check out her original piece here!!
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banghwa · 1 year
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BARBIE POSTERS + HYYH (insp.)
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