#they of course meet again under unfortunate circumstances

[cherpot]

Blushes & Buttons

A TADC fic made with headcanons from @srrycomet and I!! Enjoy!

~

“Thanks for sticking with us through the funeral, Pomni.” Ragatha walked next to her friend, palms clasped in front of her. The taunting funhouse hall of bedrooms stretched on before them, seeming endless to Pomni.

Pomni looked up to meet Ragatha’s eye, offering a half smile. “No problem.” She made another small offer of a thumbs up. “Thanks for, uh… Inviting me?”

Ragatha smiled, but it wasn’t a fully whole gesture. Silence settled over them, and Pomni found herself itching with a need to break it. Ragatha wasn’t herself, and that needed to be fixed. Quickly.

“I’m… sorry about your friend. Ragatha.” The other woman’s name was added to Pomni’s apology as an afterthought. Pomni found that using the other humans’ names made her unreal situation seem, unfortunately, more real. It solidified the horror around her.

But Ragatha was the opposite of horrifying. And if any of this was to be real, Pomni hoped it would be her.

“I know I didn’t know anything about him,” Pomni continued, “but it seems like you guys cared for him a lot. And…” She sighed as the two came to a slow stop in front of Pomni’s bedroom door. “I’m sorry.”

Ragatha sighed too, a shaky breath that sounded like a dam shuddering under the immense weight of a flood. “Thanks, Pomni.” She smiled again, a little bigger this time. “You’re sweet.” Pomni, impossibly, found herself blushing. Blushing because a ragdoll said she was sweet. The whole thing should have been crazy. It was crazy. Yet it was the only thing that didn’t feel crazy.

And, Pomni realized, Ragatha’s cheeks were turning pink too.

No way, she thought, as she saw tiny red stitches appear on Ragatha’s face. Thick pink yarn danced across her cheeks in a zigzag stitch that Pomni couldn’t look away from. That blush was an accent on an embroidered masterpiece, and it was impossibly sweet.

A disbelieving chuckle escaped Pomni’s throat. “Hey, uh… anytime. I just…” She let out a breath. “I hate to see you feeling down.” She wondered if that was an odd thing to say to someone she’d just met, and under horrific circumstances, no less. But she had to try and help. “If you need anything, you can tell me, okay?”

Ragatha’s expression faltered, to Pomni’s horror. And… was that a detail in Ragatha’s stitching Pomni hadn’t seen before? No, she realized with a jolt. It’s a tear.

A tiny blue button had appeared in the corner of her eye, and it fell down her cheek and onto the floor. Stunned, Pomni watched as Ragatha’s hand flew to her mouth in dismay. Another blue tear welled up in her eye, falling out as if from an overstuffed pouch. It, too, plummeted to the floor, and a few more quickly joined. Button after button streamed from Ragatha’s eyes.

Pomni was never sure how to handle people crying. Laughter was something she knew better, something she could participate in with joy, or something she could use to settle herself when things felt uncertain.

Something to mask her fear with.

Fear seemed worse when coming from Ragatha, Pomni found. Already stunned into a panic, Pomni whipped her gaze around to follow the paths of the few buttons that had cascaded to the ground. They clicked off the hard tile, the sound almost teasing, and rolled away where Pomni couldn’t see them.

“I-I’m sorry, Pomni!” Ragatha wailed, and more tears fell from her eyes. The pink stitches on her cheeks seemed to grow darker in hue. “I tried to hold it in, I really did!” Her breath caught in her throat, creating a little sob that Pomni couldn’t take.

“I-It’s fine!” Pomni insisted, clearly floundering. “Just hang on! I’ll take care of it!” Finally, she settled on what was likely the worst course of action: she dove for the nearest button as it bounced along the hall. Giving up on it quickly, she whirled around to swipe for another button, which slipped just out of her grasp.

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry!” Pomni turned her attention to the floor, dropping to pick up the little buttons that were rolling every which way. “Don’t worry about a thing, okay?!” she insisted, her voice dripping in brittle yet ironic tension.

For a long moment, Pomni scrambled to pick up every button in her vicinity. She wobbled along on knees, in apparent denial of how pointless her actions were as she dropped each button into her gloved palm.

“I think I almost got 'em all! Don’t panic! Don’t-“

Pomni snapped her gaze back to Ragatha in surprise. Her sobs had gone staccato, lighter in sound and undeniably musical. Those sounds were no longer sobs at all; she was laughing.

Straightening her back, Pomni sat back on her heels, still awkwardly holding a handful of buttons. “Uh…”

Ragitha laughed in an impossible way: delicately, yet with her whole heart. Her lips were hidden behind one hand, as if protecting her smile. Eyes squeezed shut, her shoulders lightly shook.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Pomni!” Ragatha laughed, leaning. “You just looked so…” A fresh wave of laughter washed over her, and the tide sucked Pomni in forever.

Letting out an uncertain chuckle, Pomni set the buttons in a careful pile on the floor; only one rolled away. She rose to her feet, and the feeling of a heartbeat returned to her for the first time since she’d arrived.

The withered spot in her chest where her heart used to be was, impossibly, blooming.

Pomni stood before her new friend, fidgeting her nervous hands. “Well… I guess I made you feel better?” Somehow, it just made Ragatha laugh again.

Okay, Pomni thought, I could get used to this.

“Y’know… You’re really something, Pomni.” Ragatha giggled, sighing out the rest of her laughter. “Thanks for that.”

A genuine smile twitched at the corner of Pomni’s mouth. “You’re welcome,” she murmured. She was relieved to see Ragatha’s face free of tears and sadness. If she could keep it that way, she would. Even if it was an accident again.

Pomni faltered then, realizing Ragatha’s face wasn’t tear-free after all. A tiny blue button was caught on her friend’s stitching, right below her eye. “Oh-“ Automatically, Pomni reached for her, and didn’t stop herself until the last second.

“You’ve got an, uhm…” A button? A tear? Pomni was unsure what to call it, instead tapping her own cheek to point it out. “Can I grab it?”

“Oh!” Ragatha nodded, leaning forward slightly. Those pink, blushing stitches on her cheeks were still present, and there seemed to be more of them. Swallowing her nerves, Pomni reached out and gently plucked the button from between Ragatha’s stitches.

It came free suddenly and sharply, taking Pomni by surprise. “D-Did that hurt?”

“No, no!” Ragatha blurted, waving her hands as if to clear Pomni’s worry from the air. “Not at all. It was nice.” She seemed to be frantic all of a sudden, waving her hand again with more urgency. “I mean, it was nice of you to do that!”

Pomni wondered if the only thing that stood between her and abstraction was another glimpse of that blush.

“What I mean is…” Ragatha puffed out her cheeks and sighed, shaking her head.

Pomni’s heart fluttered.

“Thanks for being here.” Ragatha smiled.

Pomni smiled back.

#digital circus #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #ragapom #one shot #tadc fanfiction #pomni is a dork #and ragatha needs a hug

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

DC x DP Prompt

"I may think of you softly from time to time. But I’ll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again."

//Arthur Miller, The Crucible: A Play in Four Acts

Trust me, I know it's just a quote but I believe that this would be such a good concept for the Demon Twin AU.

Like, I just imagine a scene where Danny and Damian are standing across the street from one another, Gotham traffic bustling between them. The sky is dark, and the rain is pouring. They have places to be just like the people they were blocking by standing in the middle of the street. But at that moment there was no fear, hatred, envy, or jealousy between the two. Only soft sorrowful longing as venomous green meets electric blue.

But the moment is broken when their respective families come up to them asking what's wrong. They both say it's nothing and move in the opposite direction, barely acknowledging each other's presence.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dp dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #demon twin au #they of course meet again under unfortunate circumstances #but whether they or not they 'fix' their relationship is up to you #tbh they no longer loath eachother #LOATH not HATE #but lingering emotions is what keeps them apart #adopted Danny #adopted Jazz #good parents jack and maddie #it hurt me to type that #anyways jack and maddie dont know that danny use to be an assassin #only that he has a checked past and so does jazz #danny and jazz got adopted around the same time that's why they are so close #dan and ellie are apart of the fam #so is vlad because he got a redemption arc off schreen and is now in a kinda throuple situation with jack and maddie

[beelz-bub]

Here's the Dark Medieval Mystery Drama AU I mentioned before :D

I'm still working on the rest of the references but I'll shove a little story summary under the cut, if you have any questions I'd lovvee to answerrr

The basic plot is Scarab, who's known as The Crimson Knight, is sent to complete a secret mission for the Queen (who is Princess Bubblegum, her name is Queen Bonnibel), so she assigns Finn and Jake to watch over The Cube (a cursed magic item that poses a threat to the kingdom, The Crimson Knight's main job is to watch over The Cube). While watching over it, Jake gets curious and investigates it, only to discover Spectro the Wishgranter inside, who's a cool dude, and they become friends. The legend says that Queen Bonnibel in her early years asked for a wish from the cube upon its discovery only to be cursed with a horrible punishment, immortality with a cost (she suffers more pain the longer she lives).

The mystery drama comes in and Finn and Jake eventually look into it more, now protecting Spectro. They discover that it was all a lie, the Queen along with the Crimson Knight have been abusing Spectro's wish ability (he can give as many wishes as he wants). There's more to it, but I'm still working on everything lmaoo

- characters -

Queen Bonnibel - Human cursed by The Cube to be immortal, has lived for 2,000 years. (this is a lie, she's secretly made of candy, The Cube is just her way of staying in power. She takes advantage of Spectro)

Finn the Knight - a young but loyal knight, only here to serve and protect the kingdom from evil. Has previously fought the Lich, an evil necromancer that sought to kill all life. His success in the battle shot him up to top knight under Crimson.

Jake the Monster - A being of unknown origin, he is trying to find his real family and discover what he is. A brother to Finn, Jake is his companion. The two are always side-by-side.

Crimson Knight - A being of high power and status in the kingdom. The queen's top knight and right-hand man. A bug creature from unknown origin, he takes his knightship very seriously. While Crimson is being shown off around the kingdom, surprisingly, most people can't recall a time they've ever been in contact with him for more than a few moments. Finn has only ever said one thing to him, and then never saw the bug again (despite Crimson being his superior). His real name is Scarab, prefers Crimson Knight as a professional name.

Spectro the Wishgranter - A malevolent being residing inside of The Cube, a cursed magic item of great power. When given a wish, the wish maker receives a horrible punishment in return. The Cube is kept on lockdown deep inside of the castle, protected by the Crimson Knight himself so no one is swayed by the evil deity. (all a lie of course. Spectro isn't evil, he just has an unfortunate circumstance. His shadow is the evil part, a separate being from himself. When released from the cube, both beings are set free. Spectro is kept inside to keep his shadow on lockdown too. His wishes are never evil, you can have as many as you desire. When touching the cube you enter his domain and meet the Wishgranter, he's a nice guy, and never would hurt a soul.)

**The Queen is both in the wrong and is right to keep Spectro locked down. She just takes advantage of his wishes and lies about what he is to dissuade people from looking into him. Trusting that this evil being is being contained responsibly. Spectro's shadow does pose a threat to the kingdom if released.

#Roman Skies AU #Prismo #Scarab #Prismo the Wishgranter #Crimson Knight #Monster Jake #adventure time #fionna and cake #adventure time au #prohibitedwish #Prisjake #Spectro

[laurasimonsdaughter]

“Alright! Let’s just quickly go over your answers to our questionnaire in your application.”

As far as job interviews went, this one was rapidly moving up the list of utterly strange ones. For starters this was the fanciest office he had ever been in, and this was supposed to be an animal sanctuary. The amount of decorative pillows piled onto the chair he was currently trying to sit on would have been more appropriate for a lounge in a posh hotel.

The sanctuary manager – at least that’s how she had introduced herself – peered at the printed sheets of paper.

“So you have experience with animal handling?”

“During several internships, yes.”

“Wonderful. And horticulture?”

“I know how to keep a healthy habitat.”

“Excellent. And do you have any siblings?”

There it was, barely three questions in and already off the deep end. “Yes, three.”

The woman fixed two keen, dark eyes on him. “Three including you?”

“No, three besides me. I’m the second oldest, if that matters.”

“Ah! That’s alright then, Second of four, very good.”

By now he was looking at the manager with unrestrained wonder, eyebrows almost disappearing under his fringe.

“Well that all seems to be in order, just one more question—are you comfortable?”

He faltered, blinking. “I...well, to tell you to truth this chair could do with a few less pillows.”

To his amazement the manager’s face lit up with genuine delight. “Oh that is very good to hear. I do apologise for all that nonsense, but there’s rules against asking people about the circumstances of their birth, you know. Here, let me.”

He got to his feet, still rather stunned, and watched how the manager removed three pillows and, from underneath them all, a small green pea from his chair.

“There we are! Now, we’d be very glad to have you, you certainly meet all our qualifications, and I assure you we offer excellent terms and benefits. You clearly have plenty of experience with amphibians and birds, but you will need some on the job training, because apart from the usual frogs, swans and ravens, we also have clients in some of the rarer categories.”

“Clients? I thought this was an animal sanctuary,” he stammered.

“It most certainly is! Except our residents have not always been animals.” The manager smiled meaningfully. “You’d be surprised just how many people, especially royals, decide they would rather stay enchanted.” She looked a little embarrassed for a moment. “Which is of course exactly why I need to take certain precautions with my employees, you understand.”

He was pretty sure he did not at all understand, but he wasn’t about to admit that now. “Right.”

She peered at him again. “I do still need you to promise me not to fall in love with any of them.”

“Why on earth—”

“It’s happened before,” she said gravely. “We also have a couple of private parks, with a more human enclosure, I mean house, because we do get the occasional beastification.” She shook her head. “The last person we hired, well, our client was kind enough not to file an official complaint, on account of the whole finding his true love thing, but it was really very embarrassing.” He sat very still for a moment. “So, how many of those are there?”

“Beasts? Only two at the moment, since that unfortunate incident.”

“And your other...residents?”

“Hmm lets see, seven swans and seven ravens, three frogs, a stag, a hind, a fox and a bear. Well, and the cat, but she’s an exception, she lives in our head quarters and mostly looks after herself.” She gave him a rather worried look. “I haven’t scared you off, have I?”

He gave her a weak smile. “You promised me five weeks paid time off, so no you haven’t. But I am going to need some more information.”

“Wonderful,” she sighed. “In that case, let’s start with giving you a tour.”

#urban fantasy #urban fantasy professionals #laura drabbles #fairy tales #this one is a little rough still but it needed to get out there

[pix3lplays]

How about reader have to gave birth in a not convenient situation like maybe hiding from enemy? What would the hsr men do in that situation?

Oooh an intriguing scenario, thank you for the request!

Cw! Violence, pregnancy

-pregnant!reader goes into labor in unideal conditions-

Dan Heng: Dan Heng wasn’t expecting you to have no choice but to give birth on the Astral Express, but the baby was coming too fast for you to have any other choice. Thankfully the others on the Astral Express are there to support you, Himeko and Welt may not necessarily have a Ton of medical experience, but they manage well enough in supporting you through the birth, which Dan Heng will be forever in their debt for. He was, unfortunately, kicked out of the room you were in do to him being way too anxious and distracting them, but he’s allowed back in when the baby is born, and he gets to meet his beautiful child.

Jing Yuan: Jing Yuan and you are busy on a mission with the cloud knights and Yanqing when you feel it. You’re so far from a hospital though, and there are many mara-struck standing between you and the hospital. He doesn’t see any other choice. He gives a simple command to Yanqing, who nods firmly in understanding, readying his blades. Jing Yuan just…picks you up, following closely behind Yanqing as the boy leads the way to the hospital, protecting the two of you from any mara-struck along the way. It’s an Insane strategy, but hey! It works. Jing Yuan’s surprised that they made it to the hospital in time, but he’s going to pretend he had the entire situation under control. Even if you and Yanqing know he was freaking out just as much as the two of you.

Sampo Koski: You hated when Sampo dragged you into any of his schemes, and today was one of those days where he decided to do Just That. That’s when you felt it. The baby was coming, and you were currently being chased by the Silvermane Guards due to Sampo trying to scam the wrong Captain. You were, of course, freaking out while you told him. He was dragging you by the wrist when he suddenly screeches to a halt, shouting: “are you serious?!” You frantically nod, “what are we gonna do, Sampo?!” Thank goodness for those weird little smoke bombs he was so fond of. You’re unsure you would’ve gotten away in time if he didn’t have them. But thankfully he’s able to get you to Natasha’s Clinic in time for the baby’s arrival, just barely able to throw the Guards off your scent.

Blade: Oh, poor Blade doesn’t know what to do while you’re on a mission and you suddenly grab him by the arm and insist the baby’s coming. He’s busy fighting for both of your lives?? What do you MEAN the baby’s coming?? Well regardless, he has to do something, and do something FAST. He doesn’t know what else to do beyond try to get you somewhere safe, fending off enemies while relying on you to manage yourself. Somehow things work themselves out, but even Blade is shaken by the situation. By the time he’s finished cutting down the last enemy, the baby has been born, healthy and strong and it’s amazing you managed to do that all by yourself to be honest. He’s very impressed and proud of you.

Luocha: Luocha had Definitely not been expecting to deliver his own baby, but given the circumstances he didn’t have much choice. You were currently hiding from the mara-struck in a storage container when you felt the baby coming, and coming FAST. So he delivers his baby in a storage container, hoping the two of you were quiet enough for the mara-struck to not hear you, which was a lot to ask but once again, what choice did the two of you have?! It’s actually very successful thankfully, and the two of you can wait out the mara-struck, with your baby.

Gepard Landau: you were bringing him lunch, all the way out on the front lines, despite him telling you repeatedly that it was dangerous, and way too far from the hospital just in case the baby should come- And of course, while you’re visiting, you feel it. The baby is coming. THANKFULLY he did happen to have a medic on standby who could deliver the baby, but oh is the poor man stressed that you’re giving birth in a frozen wasteland instead of a nice, safe hospital. But what can you do? The baby is delivered safely, if not a little cold, but that’s okay, because as long as they’re healthy he’s happy.

#Honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #my writing #Dan Heng #Dan Heng x reader #hsr Dan Heng x reader #honkai star rail Dan Heng x reader #Jing Yuan #Jing Yuan x reader #hsr Jing Yuan x reader #honkai star rail Jing Yuan x reader #Sampo Koski #Sampo Koski x reader #hsr Sampo x reader #honkai star rail Sampo x reader #Blade #Blade x reader #hsr Blade x reader #honkai star rail Blade x reader #Luocha #Luocha x reader #hsr Luocha x reader #honkai star rail Luocha x reader #Gepard Landau #Gepard Landau x reader #hsr Gepard x reader #honkai star rail Gepard x reader #pregnancy

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Thanks for doing this (modern!Aegon II Targaryen x reader, past Jason Lannister x reader)

synopsis: What are the odds of running into your ex at a random bar in King´s Landing on a random friday night? Well, apparently the odds are higher than you thought.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, Jason being a prick

word count: 1.8k

a/n: I am still working on requests and outlining my first series, but I wanted to put out something in the meantime. I´m sorry requests are taking so long. Any way, I hope y´all like this nonetheless. <3

What are the odds of running into your ex at a random bar in King´s Landing on a random friday night? Too many people to count in this goddamn city and you had to end up next to your ex- boyfriend, your ex-boyfriend who wasn’t even living in this goddamn city. How did he even get here?! You would have asked if you hadn’t wanted to avoid any form of conversation so badly. Looking the other way, you impatiently waited for the barkeeper to give you your drink so you could leave for the back of the bar, where you’d hopefully meet some of your friends. Unfortunately, you found yourself addressed in a posh voice only a moment later.

“What a pleasant coincidence to meet you here!” Jason Lannister had obviously recognized you and was now moving in for a kiss to each cheek.

You gave him an awkward smile. The two of you hadn’t had the healthiest of relationships, followed by a messy break-up, and you had sincerely hoped to never see Jason again when he moved back to Casterly rock.

Accordingly unenthusiastic was your reaction to his attempts at making small talk, which he didn’t seem to mind, placing a hand on your arm and going on about his vacation plans. He was in King´s landing on vacation, staying in some expensive hotel, for three weeks, one of which was already over, and considering prolonging his stay.

His breath was hitting your face, smelling of the cigarettes he’d already smoked when you’d been dating, making you shift away uncomfortably.

“No, we were not. You didn’t give a shit about my wishes and feelings.” You deadpanned.

“Some nights I wonder what would be if we had not split up. We were good together.” His hand had slipped from your arm to settle on your thigh. You grabbed it and put it back onto the counter.

“Don’t lie to me. I loved you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, causing you to flinch away.

Instead of taking the hint Jason softly stroked down your temple, letting his fingers linger at the bare skin of your neck above the thin strap of your dress.

Under other circumstances, had anyone else, any random stranger gotten this close to you and touched you like this, you’d told them to fuck off, and maybe even punched them in the face if necessary, but with Jason it was different. Too many memories were being washed up to the surface. Some pleasant, many not so much.

Memories of soft touches like these, growing harsher the more you became filled with lust.

Come on, get me off.

Of course I care about you.

Memories of the same hands that’d held onto you scrolling through a phone, eyes fixed on the screen more often than not.

Memories of words whispered into your ear after every fight, after every make-out-session, at the end of every rushed phone call.

I love you.

Abruptly, you grabbed Jason´s wrist and again pushed his hand onto the bars countertop.

“Stop that.” you insist harshly.

“Why? You’ve always liked it when I touched your neck.” Gods how you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.

“I don’t want you to touch me anymore, Jason. We’re done. We’ve been done for three years now, get a grip.”

“No. I’ve moved on.”

Jason leaned in again, smiling charmingly like a shark. “We could go again. You’ve gotten hotter.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “And who is the lucky one?”

You opened your mouth to tell him that it was none of his business when a deep, smooth voice beat you to it.

The stranger leaned in for a hug, whispering into your ear. “You looked like you could use some help. Don’t worry, I got you.”

“Hey babe. Sorry, I’m late, Arryk almost burned down our kitchen.” Both Jason and you turned around to the speaker, a muscular, pale man with short hair of an even paler blonde than Jasons.

Aegon pulled back and turned towards Jason, keeping one of his hands resting protectively on the small of your back.

You felt like a stone had been lifted from your chest, may the seven bless this man. Smiling, you reciprocated the hug. “Hey, nuha jorrāelza. It’s alright.”

“Keep your hands off my girlfriend, will you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Jason Lannister.” He sounded like he had tasted something foul but couldn’t spit it out anymore, pointedly passing over Aegon’s challenge.

Jason looked the other up and down, taking in his bulk, obviously considering his chances in case the situation escalated. Jason was a bit taller than Aegon, but Aegon was decidedly more muscular and had an air of badass on him that Jason´s based-on-money confidence just couldn’t match.

“Aegon Targaryen. I’d say ‘pleasure to meet you’ but my mother taught me not to lie.” Aegon scowled.

You nodded, that was the perfect excuse to ditch your ex.

Then he directed his attention back to you. “The others are outside having a smoke, you wanna check in with them?”

“Bye, Jason.”

The chilly night air of King´s landing hit the two of you when you stepped outside, a welcome contrast to the stuffiness inside the bar. Aegon let go of your waist as soon as you were out of Jason´s sight, but kept up the protective demeanor.

“Are you alright? He didn’t do anything real bad, did he?”

“Don’t worry, no need to explain yourself. It happens.” He smiled at you, a warm glint in his lilac eyes.

You gave him a wry smile and a nod. “No, I’m fine. Thank you. I’m not normally that… helpless… That was my ex and… yeah…”

“What’s your name, by the way?” You felt your cheeks heat up. Right. You quickly tell him your name. “Alright. Do you wanna leave here? Want me to call you a cab or something?”

“No, actually, I’d like to go back inside. I’m not going to let that jackass of an ex-boyfriend ruin my friday night. Would you care to accompany me? In case he tries something again?”

He sounded genuinely concerned, it made your heart jump. If you were being saved from Jason by a kind, handsome stranger, you'd absolutely use the chance for a flirt. And maybe even more? You grinned.

Aegon gave you a look, then smiled. “Alright.”

Aegon nodded and offered you his arm, which you happily took. By now the bar had gotten fuller, people were filling up all of the booths along the walls and some had begun to dance in the free space towards the back.

“Do you want a drink?” You felt Aegon’s breath brush your ear as he leaned in so he’d be heard over the music. It was a nice sensation.

You shook your head though. “Later, let’s dance!”

“Thanks for doing this.” Your voice is so quiet it's barely audible over the music.

You were not only drop-dead gorgeous but also an amazing dancer as Aegon would soon realize. The two of you were moving perfectly in tune with the music, hips swaying, a wide grin on your face, and your eyes on Aegon. It was almost hypnotic, the mischievous spark in your gaze that pulled him in. Then the beat dropped and you broke out the raddest dance moves he’d ever seen in his life. You knew he was staring but he just couldn’t help himself. That was impressive. You obviously noticed, and laughed, raising an eyebrow and dancing up on him. Aegon shot you a smirk and a wink, leaning in and placing his hands on your hips. Your hands travelled up his arms, coming to a rest behind his neck.

His is as well. “Pleasure.”

Jason Lannister was annoyed. He’d been watching his ex and her new boyfriend dance for the last hour or so (don’t you even think about calling him pathetic!) and while he definitely wasn’t jealous, the two of them did seem to have an awful lot of fun together. They were alternating between ridiculous breakdance battles and basically dry-humping each other like horny teenagers, taking up the center of the dancefloor where people had formed a circle around them.

“Look me in the eye or otherwise we’ll have seven years of bad sex, don’t you know the saying?”

By the time the couple returned to the bar, Jason was sipping his fourth Solero, still watching them from across. The new guy had a hand resting on your lower back, holding you close, while you were laughing at something he’d said.

Picking up their drinks, they clinked glasses.

“Can’t risk that, can we?” they laughed at each other as they sipped their drinks. Your eyes were sparkling bright enough for Jason to notice from his spot, in a way they never had when the two of them had been together. Aegon was smiling like someone from a toothpaste commercial, teeth bright against his flushed skin. Jason rolled his eyes. He caught you shooting him a smug glance, then whispering to your boyfriend, who laughed and pulled you closer. You bit your lip, glancing down into your glass, and Jason knew that if he’d been closer, he would have been able to see the other’s blush.

When Aegon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, Jason downed the rest of his drink and left. He should have gone on vacation to the Riverlands. Or Essos.

You stayed at the bar until long after your ex had left, talking about life and the world, and taking dance breaks again and again. It was the wee hours of the morning when you stood at the subway station, about to finally part ways.

“Thank you for helping me out, Egg.”

He smiled and pulled out his phone. “No problem, really. ‘Twas a pleasure. Can I have your number?”

“What?”

“Yes. Definitely.” The phone screen was putting a strange blueish lighting to your face as you saved your number into Aegon´s phone. You looked up and grinned.

“Huh?” Aegon felt his cheeks heat up from having been caught staring.

He went to take his phone from you, but ended up grabbing your hand instead. You were standing way too close. This is awkward, he thought, but didn’t let go.

He looked up to find you staring at him. At his lips, to be exact. Aegon swiped his tongue over them reflexively. “You know…”

Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by a pair of soft lips being pressed to his. The kiss was warm and sweet, tasting slightly of the liquor you’d had earlier. Aegon used his free hand, the one that wasn’t still awkwardly holding yours and the phone, to pull you in a little closer, placing it gently at your waist. He could feel you smile against his lips before deepening the kiss.

When you pulled back, you were both slightly out of breath and smiling like idiots. A subway entered the station, making a whole bunch of noise.

You looked up. “That one’s mine.”

“I’ll try.” You grinned, stepping back. “Call me!”

Aegon nodded, biting his lower lip. “Get home safe.”

“I will!” He assures you and then the subway doors close behind you.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon x reader #modern hotd au #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd fic #hotd #house of the dragon

[7-wonders]

Just the Two of Us

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary: Anakin finally returns to you, and neither of you can wait for a better time or place to truly reunite.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Was feeling the itch to write for Anakin again, so whipped up a short little something for you guys. Hope you enjoy :)

The blue light from your holocomputer is beginning to hurt your eyes from how long you’ve had to stare at it. You’re close to just giving up on this draft, but you know that you can’t. Not when you’re so close to being done with it, and not when there are people whose lives may very well depend on what you’re working on. Such is the life of a senator of the Galactic Republic.

When a knock sounds at your office door, you blink rapidly when you look up, trying to get your eyes to adjust from different styles of lighting.

“Yes?” you call out.

“I have a visitor here for you, says you're expecting him,” the voice on the other side of the door says.

Your heart begins to pound. Is he really back? Could it be him? You won’t know until you say anything. “Come in!”

The door opens, and two people walk into your office. Immediately, you beam.

Anakin Skywalker nods respectfully. “Good afternoon Senator, do you have a moment?”

“Master Skywalker, come in! You’ve caught me between meetings.” You look behind him at your personal assistant, ever loyal and ready to politely show an unwanted guest to the door at your signal.. “Thank you, Ryssa. Go ahead and take lunch; I can make it to my next appointment without a reminder.”

 The Chiss woman smiles and nods before stepping out of the room and closing the heavy doors behind her. You press a button on the keypad sitting on your desk, and both you and your guest listen as the lock on the door slides into place. 

The moment that it does, your carefully-professional personas melt. In the time it takes for you to stand up at your desk (not very long at all), Anakin has already used his incredibly long strides to cross the room. He sweeps you up into his arms and you squeal, melting into the hug that he gives you.

Finally, after two weeks of being unmoored, you feel like you’re home.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his ear, not willing to release him from your embrace just yet.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Anakin’s the one to pull back first, but only so that he can look at you with that heartbreakingly-sweet gaze of his, the one that makes you melt every time you see it. It’s impossible to resist, and you lean in to kiss him for the first time in two weeks.

“Being apart from you is the worst agony I’ve ever known,” Anakin says against your lips, trying to simultaneously talk and kiss you.

“But we’re together again now,” you reassure him. “There’s no reason for us to worry anymore.”

Unfortunately, there will be reason for you to worry again. Anakin will get orders to a new planet or system, or you’ll get sent back to your home planet for a variety of senatorial events. In this time of war and strife, it’s inevitable that you’ll again be separated from each other. That worry, that knowledge, is what makes you hold onto him tighter. Though this may be temporary, you currently have him in your arms, and you’re not going to let go until you absolutely have to.

Anakin nods before kissing you again. Of course, since it has been two whole weeks since you felt his body against yours, and vice versa, it doesn’t take long for that innocent kiss to devolve into something a little more steamy. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t be complaining, especially when he crowds you up against the wall and begins to run his hands up and down your sides. Today, though, there’s one unfortunate matter holding you back.

“I only have ten minutes before my next meeting, Ani,” you explain, trying to get your hands on his chest so that you can push him off of you.

Anakin scoffs. “I can easily get it done for both of us in ten minutes.”

“I have to meet your best friend in ten minutes! We have,” you pause to moan into the junction of where his neck meets his shoulder as he sucks at the skin just behind your ear, “we’re going over our joint proposal to enact sanctions on the Banking Clan.”

“You say this as if Padmé doesn’t know about our relationship and hasn’t covered for us before.” 

Padmé Amidala had been the one to introduce you, back when you were a freshman senator and she had been kind enough to take you under her wing. She was so sweet, and would absolutely do anything for you and Anakin, which is why you always felt so bad asking. 

Anakin, however, shared none of the qualms that you did. Luckily for both of you, Padmé was a romantic and loved getting to help a relationship flourish, even if in secret.

“That doesn’t mean I enjoy doing it.” Still, you continue kissing him, relishing in how soft his skin is against yours as your hands slide under his robes.

“C’mon baby, just ten minutes. Then you’re off to your meeting, and Padmé’s none the wiser!” Anakin says this as if she wouldn’t be able to smell the sex on you, which she absolutely would. You can already see her little smile, the one that she gets whenever she catches you or Anakin being in love with each other, the one that says she’s so proud of her work.

“You’re such a menace.”

Instead of saying anything, Anakin simply proves your point by ghosting his knuckles over your clothed crotch, and when your knees buckle, he grins wolfishly.

(What? There’s a war going on that often keeps you and your lover apart for prolonged periods of time, and fingers and holocalls can only do so much)

“Am I?” he asks.

You nod. “A very sexy, very irresistible menace.”

His blue eyes light up. “So…are you saying yes?”

You glance at the clock on your desk. Even if Anakin keeps to his promise of ten minutes, you’re still going to be late. But it is tempting, you won’t lie. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t be a very big deal if I was just a couple of minutes late to our meeting,” you say with a sigh, the battle having already been lost by now.

Anakin laughs in delight and victory, fingers already working at unbuttoning your trousers. “I thought about you, about this, every night while I was gone.”

It’s very sweet, what he’s saying, but you’re too consumed by lust right now to want to listen. You grab his chin with your fingers and look at him. “Less talking, more kissing.”

He smirks, but does as you’ve asked. “Your wish is my command.”

•••

You stumble into Padmé’s office approximately twenty minutes later. In an attempt to throw her off your trail, you keep your head down and focus on the holopad that you’re holding, but you can feel her perceptive eyes tracking you nonetheless.

“Sorry I’m late, I was making some last-minute changes to the draft.”

“I’d say.” The smile in her voice is obvious, and you look up to see exactly what you knew you’d find were you to give into Anakin’s pleas. Blood rushes to your cheeks immediately, and you shift in your seat at the prickles of nervous sweat along the top of your spine.

“Don’t look at me like that!” you whine.

Padmé holds up her hands, but her smile only grows. “Like what? I’m just…happy to see that you’re happy.”

You shake your head and pull up the aforementioned draft. “Anyways, our bill.”

“Yes! Our bill.”

And so you get down to business, with Anakin on your mind and in your heart the whole time.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #star wars imagine

[dreamonseems]

King Haaland Part 1

Erling Haaland X Female Reader

Summary: Reader brought to Norway as a slave, and Erling buys her.

I'm literally going to make this a short story, but I'm having so much fun writing it. I'm making it into a few parts.

"Flytt jente (Move, girl)!" My captor's rough voice pierces through the air as he forcefully shoves me off the boat. With a mixture of fear and adrenaline, I quickly step onto the dock, my heart racing in my chest. As I regain my balance, another man, equally as imposing, clasps chains onto my arms, linking me to the other unfortunate souls who are now my companions. We form a somber procession, coerced to follow our captors through the bustling civilization that lies before us.

The sight that unfolds before my eyes is both awe-inspiring and disheartening. The docks are teeming with activity—boats of various sizes and shapes line the water, some carrying fierce warriors, while others, like the one I was just on, serve as vessels of human bondage. The air is filled with a sense of urgency and purpose as people move about their tasks.

We are guided past the array of boats, eventually reaching the grand gates of the bustling kingdom. The gates, ornately decorated, loom above us, a testament to the wealth and power held within. As we pass through, I can't help but feel a mix of trepidation and curiosity about what awaits us on the other side.

Once inside, I am herded into a line alongside my fellow slaves. A man, who appears to be in charge, meticulously inspects each one of us. His eyes meet mine, and he pauses, his hand suddenly gripping my face, turning it this way and that as if evaluating a precious object. "Kongen kan betale en høy pris for denne (The king might pay a hefty price for this one)," he remarks in a language I don't understand. My chains are once again tagged, signifying that I am to follow this man, and I obediently comply, my heart sinking further with each step.

The man leads me, along with nine other girls, to a massive log house. As we enter, the sounds of laughter and merriment wash over us. The room is filled with people seated at long tables, feasting and reveling in their own world of abundance. But at the very front of the room, on an elevated wooden throne, sits a figure who immediately captures my attention.

He is a man of striking appearance, his long blonde hair cascading over his broad shoulders, framing a face that exudes both regal authority and undeniable charm. His piercing blue eyes survey the room, effortlessly commanding the attention of those around him. It is clear that this man is none other than the king himself, and in that moment, I can't help but wonder what fate awaits me under his rule.

The man who led me there bows his head respectfully and addresses the room, his words flowing in a language unfamiliar to my ears. "Stor viking konge Erling Haaland, jeg bringer skatter fra forskjellige land for deg (Great Viking King Erling Haaland, I bring treasures from different lands for you)," he proclaims with reverence. Though I struggle to comprehend his words, one word rings clear in my mind—Viking. The very mention of it sends shivers down my spine, for in my homeland, tales were whispered of Viking marauders who arrived in their formidable ships, wreaking havoc and destruction upon villages and towns. They were ruthless, fearsome beings who brought kingdoms to their knees. If this man indeed was a Viking king, then my fate was sealed, and I could only expect the worst.

A surge of fear courses through me, intensifying the already dire circumstances I find myself in. I am overwhelmed by the weight of the situation, my mind filled with images of the horrors that may lie ahead. But just as despair threatens to consume me, my captor's rough hand reaches for the front of my dress, attempting to tear it away. In a desperate bid to retain some semblance of control, I react instinctively, grabbing his arm with all my strength, desperately trying to halt his assault.

"No!" I scream, my voice echoing through the room, a desperate plea for mercy. However, my captor is not swayed by my pleas. With a swift motion, he smacks me across the face with his free hand, the impact leaving a searing pain and a metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Tears spring to my eyes, a mixture of agony and indignation fueling my resolve.

"La gå jente, vite din plass, slave (Let go, girl, know your place, slave)," he sneers, his words dripping with contempt. Blood trickles from my nose, staining my torn dress, but it only serves to stoke the fire within me. In a surge of defiance, I muster every ounce of strength I possess and lash out, delivering a powerful kick to his midsection. He grunts in pain, momentarily stunned by my unexpected retaliation.

Seizing the opportunity, I seize the man's hand that still clings to my dress and sink my teeth into his flesh with all my might. The taste of warm blood fills my mouth, and I bite down with a primal ferocity, managing to tear one of his fingers away from his hand. A bone-chilling scream erupts from his lips, mingling with my own defiant laughter. The man recoils in agony, releasing his grip on me, and I seize the chance to spit his severed finger back at him—a grotesque symbol of my unwavering spirit.

In that moment, something within me shifts. If this was to be my end, then I would meet it on my own terms. I refuse to be a passive victim in this cruel game of fate. With a newfound determination, I brace myself for whatever may come next, ready to face my destiny with unwavering resolve and an indomitable will to fight.

"Drep henne! (Kill her)!" The man's chilling cry echoes through the room, a sentence that seals my fate and sends a shiver down my spine. The guards surrounding me react swiftly, their movements synchronized as they grab hold of me and throw me violently to the ground. I thrash and scream, my body instinctively fighting back against the impending doom that looms over me.

In the midst of the chaos, as one of the guards raises his axe, poised to strike me down, a commanding voice pierces through the air, cutting through the clamor like a sword. "Stoppe (Stop)," the voice utters, freezing everyone in their tracks. The room falls silent, every eye turning towards the source of the commanding voice—the king himself.

With an air of authority that demands attention, the king rises from his throne, his towering stature an undeniable presence in the room. He strides purposefully toward me, his gaze fixated upon my trembling form. As he kneels down, our eyes lock in an intense, unspoken connection. Time seems to stand still, and I find myself holding my breath, unable to tear my gaze away from his piercing eyes.

He reaches out, his hand enveloping my face, his touch both commanding and intimate. In an act of defiance, I summon the strength within me and summon a defiant spit, aimed squarely at his face. The crimson trail of my blood-stained saliva trickles down his cheek, and to my astonishment, a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Jeg liker denne. Hun er en modig liten ting (I like this one. She is a brave little thing)," he utters, his words laden with unexpected admiration. He releases his grip on my face, rising to his full height once again. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, his eyes never leave mine as he makes a decision that sends a wave of confusion through me.

"Ta henne. Hun vil være min nye slave (Take her. She will be my new slave)," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. The guards, now under his direct order, move swiftly, escorting me away from the chaos and into a room adorned with a solitary bed. They leave me there, locking the door behind them. The realization sinks in—I am not to meet my demise just yet.

Confusion swirls within me, mingling with a newfound mixture of relief and apprehension. I am now a prisoner, destined to serve as the king's slave. Alone in the confines of the room, I take a moment to collect myself, steeling my resolve for the uncertain future that awaits me. In this unexpected twist of fate, I vow to remain strong, to find a way to survive, and perhaps, against all odds, to defy the chains that bind me and regain my freedom.

The morning light trickles into the room, casting a soft glow upon the somber surroundings. I rise from the bed, my body tense and ready to confront any imminent threat. However, my guard quickly dissipates as a young woman, around my age or slightly older, approaches me. Startled, I prepare myself for a fight, but her calm demeanor and words catch me off guard.

"Calm down. You are safe for now," she assures me, her voice filled with a soothing familiarity. I take a moment to process her words, a glimmer of hope flickering within me. "You speak my tongue," I respond, my voice tinged with both surprise and relief. "We are from the same lands," she explains, lifting her sleeves to reveal the markings of our people adorning her arm. In that moment, a wave of relief washes over me, knowing that I am in the presence of someone who brings memories of home.

"I am Celine," she introduces herself, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and recognition. Gathering my composure, I proudly reveal my own identity. "Y/N, daughter of Drahseen," I declare, my voice resonating with a sense of lineage and nobility. Celine's eyes widen at the sound of my name, a glimmer of awe dancing within her gaze. "With your markings and the way you are dressed, I had a feeling you came from a noble home. But I had no clue you were the daughter of the great warrior Drahseen, the rebel prince. No wonder you are a fighter," she remarks, a mix of admiration and intrigue evident in her voice.

I recount the tragic events that led to my capture, sharing the story of my father's valiant efforts to protect our family from the wrath of a cruel king. "My father kept our family hidden, afraid that the king would find us and kill us. But we were discovered. I managed to lead my mother and siblings to safety, but I was captured and sold into slavery," I explain, a mixture of sorrow and determination coloring my words. The memory of our kingdom's ongoing conflict, torn apart by the ambitions of my father's treacherous cousin, stirs within me, fueling my longing for justice and restoration.

Lost in the depths of my thoughts, I finally voice the question that lingers at the forefront of my mind. "What will happen to me?" I inquire, my voice laced with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. Celine's expression softens, reflecting the weight of the reality that awaits me. "King Haaland has taken a liking to you. You will learn how to become his house slave," she reveals, her words hanging heavy in the air.

Though the prospect of serving the king looms before me, I find solace in the unexpected companionship of Celine—a reminder of the bonds that tie me to my homeland. As I navigate the uncertain path that lies ahead, I draw strength from the resilience of my lineage, determined to survive and, if fate allows, to play a role in shaping the destiny of my people.

After being led away, I found myself in a small chamber where I was washed, cleansing away the grime and remnants of my past. Emerging from the refreshing ritual, Celine presented me with a new attire—a hangerok, a traditional dress commonly worn by Viking women. Though it felt foreign against my skin, it was a symbol of adaptation to this new life. Grateful for the small comfort, I noticed that my precious jewelry, gifts from my father, remained intact—a necklace and a bracelet—a reminder of the love and protection I carried with me.

Led further into the depths of the dwelling, I found myself in the bustling kitchen. Celine became my guide, imparting upon me the skills of culinary arts, servitude, and the intricacies of comporting oneself in the presence of the king. Days turned into weeks, and I immersed myself in the teachings, honing each nuance to perfection. Yet, in those seven days, the enigmatic king remained an elusive figure, concealed from my sight.

On the eighth day, my fate took an unexpected turn. I was appointed the task of serving the king his dinner—an honor and a trepidation intertwined. As I entered the grand Viking hall, my trembling hand clutched the Mead, a potent beverage fit for this momentous feast. It was my duty to stand by the king's side, fulfilling his desires by filling his cup whenever he beckoned. As our eyes met, a shiver cascaded down my spine, an unspoken tension lingering in the air. He wore a smirk, an expression that both intrigued and unsettled me.

With bated breath, I approached him, my every move measured. Our eyes remained locked, an unyielding gaze that held the weight of unspoken possibilities. He finally averted his gaze, allowing me to fill his cup, but the tension between us remained palpable. The night unfolded, the king indulging in the feast alongside his comrades, while I dutifully served him. However, in a sudden twist of events, he unexpectedly pulled me onto his lap, his immense frame enveloping my small stature. Panic surged through me, and I instinctively sought escape, but his grasp tightened around my waist, rendering me powerless.

He returned to his conversations, seemingly unaffected by my unease. My eyes darted to the table, fixating on the knife he had used to cut the meat. A daring thought surged within me, and in a swift motion, I reached out and seized the knife. My heart raced as I brought the blade dangerously close to his neck, a desperate attempt to reclaim my agency. But he reacted with astonishing speed, gripping my wrist with a firm hold, exerting pressure that forced me to drop the knife. He turned to face me once more, that infuriating smirk still adorning his face.

"Vær stille, kjære. Jeg snakker (Stay still, darling. I am talking)," he uttered, his voice devoid of any flinching or fear. His calm demeanor in the face of my rebellion left me stunned, utterly perplexed. What kind of man was he, who remained composed in the face of a threat to his own life? The enigma surrounding Erling Haaland deepened, shrouding him in an aura of mystery and unpredictability.

Perched on his lap, the night unfolded in a haze of bewildering gestures. The king, defying expectations, took on the role of both host and caretaker, feeding me morsels of food and coaxing me to drink from his horn. Each action left me more perplexed, as the dissonance between his seemingly kind demeanor and my preconceived notions of him clashed violently within me. As the festivities drew to a close, his subjects dispersed, leaving only the two of us in the grand hall, our seats still occupied.

Seated comfortably, the king summoned Celine to serve as his translator, seeking clarification as he inquired about my identity. "Hva er navnet hennes?(what is her name)," he questioned, his eyes fixed on me. Celine conveyed his query and my name, her voice serving as the conduit for our communication. The king, unfazed by the language barrier, issued his decree with an air of authority, causing my heart to race with trepidation.

"Fortell henne at hun skal komme til rommet mitt hver natt for å sove. Rommet mitt vil være hennes kammer fra nå av. (Tell her she shall come to my room every night to sleep. My room will be her chambers from now on)."

he stated, his words hanging heavily in the air. Celine dutifully translated, and the weight of his command settled upon me. Fear and panic coursed through my veins as I realized the implications—sleeping in his room meant more than mere rest. It meant surrendering the precious gift of my innocence, an act that terrified me to my core. Tears welled up in my eyes as I berated myself for allowing him to perceive my worth, my vulnerability.

Yet, amidst the overwhelming emotions, the king continued to defy my expectations. He reached out, wiping away my tears, and offered a reassuring squeeze around my waist. "Jeg vil ikke skade deg, søte. Det vil ikke skje noe annet enn søvn,(I will not hurt you sweet one, there will be nothing but sleep happening.)" he murmured, his voice laced with a gentleness that caught me off guard. Celine once again conveyed his words, granting me a momentary reprieve from the tormenting thoughts that plagued me.

Relief washed over me like a cool breeze, easing my anxious heart. But even in that moment, questions gnawed at my conscience. Why was he being so unexpectedly kind? And why, against my better judgment, was I beginning to trust him, even if only slightly? The enigma of Erling Haaland, the Viking king, deepened, intertwining my fear with a glimmer of hesitant hope.

Part 2

#fanfiction #fanfic #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland #erling #erling haaland x y/n #erling haaland x you #erling håland #haaland x reader #haaland #erling haaland imagine #haaland imagine #manchester city #man city imagine #manchester city imagine #man city #footballer #football #soccer #love fanfic #love #viking #viking fanfic #viking famfiction #slavery #short story

[lily-blackstone]

Blood-Soaked Love

General!Lilia Vanrouge x Human General!Reader (Gender not mentioned)

Note: I wrote this shit like nearly a year ago probably and it's been sitting in my notes ever since so here's a slightly edited version hahaajajahjajakksbdhdjsksk

Description: Under the cover of darkness, only there can you embrace you lover. And there, you must end his life as well.

After all, as a General in the Human army, your loyalty to your race reigned above all else in your life. And to think you valued anything, even your lover, more, was nothing but a lie to yourself.

The leaves crunched softly under your feet as you walked towards your destination. It was late, having passed midnight hours ago.

You should've been asleep in your tent, catching up on some much needed rest during this small unspoken truce after the dust of war had settled for the night. The battle was unusually gruesome, both sides suffering heavy losses.

You suspected that if everything went as it should've, the next day would have no fighting, perhaps one or two small skirmishes at most but no full scale battle.

That is, as previously stated, if everything went as it should've.

But unfortunately, things would not go as they should've under normal circumstances.

Because the circumstances of your relationship with General Lilia Vanrouge were anything but normal.

Of course, the two of you just couldn't be what everyone else thought you to be. What you should be. You two couldn't y'know, absolutely despise eachother. View the other with nothing but pure malice and hatred for what each of you had done to the other. But of course, you just couldn't be normal about eachother.

Nonono, you guys just had to have a 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 after things got sidetracked during what should've been a very tense and formal meeting to arrange a truce. Why? Because a year before said truce and a year before the war, you two just 𝘩𝘢𝘥 to happen to run into eachother while undercover and then somehow accidentally help eachother and then share both of your first kisses-

So you guys just 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 be in a secret relationship for the past 3 months since that little meeting.

Seeing eachother only late at night under the cover of darkness, having to always be a hundred percent sure that absolutely 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 saw the two of you together.

Recently though, your meetings have been less and less frequent. From at least once a week to thrice a month if you were lucky. Confrontations in the battlefield were incredibly rare and both of you worked hard to ensure it stayed that way.

But, the decrease in your midnight randevouz's were to be expected. The war was getting desperate. Supplies, morale and manpower slowly beginning to dwindle on both sides meant everyone was desperate for a victory.

Including you.

And what you were planning to do tonight was precisely the reason why you were sure the unspoken truce would not last.

And so, as you stepped into the small clearing, your eyes locking with the man you'd grown love; a silence of mutual understanding enveloped the area. Not even the chirping of owls could be heard. Not a single animal, nor the trees dared to make a sound. Only the wind swept past, as if gently chiding you both to reconsider, or perhaps it was simply waiting in anticipation.

After what felt like an eternity, you stepped forward.

Lilia said nothing, only staring up at the moon as you sat down beside him, leaning against the tree he was under. The two of you sat in silence for a few more seconds before Lilia spoke up "The moon looks beautiful tonight, don't you agree?"

Gazing up at the full moon, you found it to be quite beautiful as he had said. "It is indeed."

Silence again.

Though, none of the silences were uncomfortable. But they were not comfortable either. Rather, they were... How do I put it? Ah, the calm before the storm. Both of you knew what was on the other's mind. You both knew what was coming, what had to be done. And yet, you both wished desperately in your heart for the opposite.

But unfortunately, the world was unkind. It was merciless. It had no obligation to listen to the whims of two people, so why would it?

Eventually, you stood up. Placing a hand on the hilt of your sword, you unsheathed it. "Lilia, I think it's time we ended this little game of ours" This stupid pathetic game of playing hide and seek with the rest of the world, trying desperately to somehow save a relationship which was doomed to fail from the very beginning.

Lilia stood up, unsheathing his sword as well. The two of you faced eachother, looking into eachothers eyes "Indeed. It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?" He said with a hollow smile and you gripped the hilt of your sword tighter. "Yes, it was an honour to have known you. But I truly hope that neither of us have the displeasure of seeing each other in hell."

And with that, you drove your sword forward, aiming for the heart you'd long since trapped within your calloused fingers.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge #Twisted wonderland Lilia x reader #Lilia Vanrouge x reader #General!Lilia Vanrouge #General!Reader #Angst #forbidden love #open ending #(Fancy way of saying I never bothered to write the ending)

[youthereader]

Near Zero part 5.

PAIRING: cillian murphy as j. robert oppenheimer x fem!reader

SUMMARY: 1.3k words. Brought on as part of the Manhattan Project, your old physics professor sees you in a new light.

RATING: E; (no smut in this part) mentions of infidelity

A/N: Although based on real life characters, this is J. Robert Oppenheimer as played by Cillian Murphy, a fictional character, and does not intend to be accurate. This is merely for entertainment. It's been months but I'm finally back! Thank you for your patience and Happy 2024!

masterlist

You remember Robert’s note every so often over the next week. You have little time to plan anything properly about your Santa Fe trip, but you fantasize when you’re alone enough. You have only been to the town on your way to Los Alamos months ago, and you were different then. You hadn’t known what this part of the world was capable of.

This dreaminess seeps into your life when you walk into the center of town to buy lighter fluid. You’re out of matches and may have to resort to a flint if you don’t hurry along to the store – and on the way in, you see Kitty, a basket in one arm full of packages from the butcher.

“You again,” she murmurs, flashing her perfect teeth.

She keeps the door open, people moving past both of you. She gives a nod to some women drifting past. It reminds you of high school.

“Robert mentioned something about you and the boys going off on a weekend trip next month,” she says, and you watch her face for any sign of suspicion. “But he can’t have you all to himself all the time, dear. I can’t have you over for my wives’ club since you’re so busy…”

Your eyes meet and you realize she absolutely does not see you as a threat. She’s trying to make friends.

“Unfortunately,” you say, though you’re pretending a little.

“There you go!” she laughs, hitting your arm playfully. “So, you understand my issue. We cannot go on knowing each other and not seeing one another. This town is small enough as it is…”

She trails off, looking behind her at the customers, something passing over her face.

“Did you know I’m a botanist?” she says eventually, glancing back at you. “I’m not just Robert’s wife.”

“Of course, you’re not,” you say.

“And I suppose you have no garden outside that godforsaken shack you’re in,” she goes on, having recovered from whatever she was feeling a breath beforehand. “I’m going to have to give you some type of succulent.”

“A succulent?” you repeat with a smirk.

“Yes, dear. A cactus. Something.”

You appreciate this, having someone that isn’t from T building to talk to. You give a shrug.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

“Yes, and then you can come visit us again to pick it up,” Kitty conspires, smiling again. “Or Robert can drop it off at yours…”

You think of him visiting your house under innocent circumstances, hoping the irony doesn’t show on your face. You clear your throat.

“I’ll let you go,” you say, and she nods.

“Suppose I ought to get back to the brat,” she sighs. “He’s with a neighbor. Unless you’d like to join me?”

You shake your head automatically. “I need to get back to work.”

Kitty rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard that one before. Ta-ta.”

You watch her leave, and then finally walk into the store. Your head is full of Robert again; he must have mentioned Santa Fe while passing through his house. You can picture him bringing up this idea as if he hadn’t come up with it the night of the dinner party. Your face feels warm, remembering his lips on yours, the way he caught your hand in his.

-

You light a cigarette as you leave for lunch a week later, almost running into a uniformed officer. He calls you by your last name and you glance up, confused.

“Ma’am, Colonel Nichols wishes to speak with you.”

You feel some colleagues’ eyes on you, aware of Robert being within earshot, too.

“Yes?”

You can’t think of what else to say, given that you see there’s little choice in the matter. The young officer turns his heel, and you follow him out. You suck on your cigarette, exhaling to the side as you exit the building, keeping a brisk pace so you’re not left behind.

You only feel mild irritation when you arrive at Nichols’ office, since he doesn’t care that your lunch break is only so long, and there are only so many opportunities to take it throughout a busy workday.

You should have gauged Robert’s reaction on your way out, as Nichols does not seem pleased to see you despite his request.

“Please have a seat,” he says, barely looking up from his papers.

You would rather stand. You would rather not be there at all by how cold he is, by how your stomach growls. You don’t often listen to your body’s signals when you’re in the labs, but now you can’t ignore your rising hunger. You take a short inhale of your cigarette before mashing it in the ashtray in front of you, taking the seat he offers.

“I understand you have requested a weekend pass,” he says, finally looking at you.

His eyes behind his spectacles are pale and assessing. The blue smoke of your cigarette still lingers above your heads as you place your hands in your lap.

“Yes, was my application efficient?” you ask, and he smirks.

“You have never requested a pass before this week,” he says. “Why is that?”

You glance away, unsure of whether this is a joke. He has no right to know such a thing, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, nonetheless. Admitting the truth, that you haven’t wanted to leave because you had no reason to, made your life sound so small and sad. You refuse the mortification.

“I’ve been busy, or is that not a good enough reason, sir?” you retort, and he blinks, unmoved.

“It has nothing to do with Dr. Oppenheimer being present among the visitors of Santa Fe?” he says.

You freeze, wanting your cigarette back, wishing you had known it would be this way. Was he insinuating something, had he seen something? Heard a rumor?

“Dr. Oppenheimer and several of my colleagues will be in Santa Fe,” you say, drawing in a breath. You let it go, to seem bored by his invasiveness. “Are we not meant to spend time with one another outside of a laboratory? I would have thought the Army endorsed that kind of morale building among its ranks.”

You’re laying it on thick and he notices it, frowning ever so slightly.

“Oppie might not even come, he’s so busy,” you add with a half laugh. “And Feynman was always more fun. He is not pathologically introverted.”

“I would have thought you have been described as such, before this pass request came through,” Nichols drawls.

“Not diagnosed as such,” you say, a smile on your lips that you let fall instantly, knowing it to be a disturbing sight to some.

You no longer wish to pretend.

“Will I be allowed to leave Los Alamos or not?” you ask, and Nichols looks down at his papers, an open file.

“For now, yes,” he says.

You stare at one another, waiting for the silence to be broken. You refuse to blink, to further unsettle him. You despise being controlled and have not felt this type of outrage in a while.

“You may leave,” he says, and you rise from your chair.

He adds as you turn your back:

“Be careful, with what you share about the project.”

You always are. You turn back, frowning at him.

“Of course. Loose lips and all.”

He gives his own false smile, echoing you: “Of course.”

-

You find Robert later, who takes your elbow and steers you back out, making a show of insisting you get something to eat like you originally planned.

“Will you have lunch, then, Oppie?” someone teases, and he laughs softly.

When you are alone in the hallway, you stop, your voices lowering.

“Nichols knows. How does he know?”

“A guard, perhaps,” Robert says, and he is not anywhere near as concerned as you.

You stare at him. “Robert, I am being serious.”

“As am I,” he says, and he touches your cheek, then your shoulder, sighing. “My darling, I’m sorry you’re put through this.”

“I’m a willing participant,” you retort, and he shakes his head, just the once. “Will you please enlighten me-?”

“I have a file. And they watch me,” he whispers.

You look towards the entryway to the hall you occupy, then back at Robert. A distinct fear settles into you, deep down, to your marrow. You suppress a shiver.

Thank you for reading! I know I vanished for a while, but I hope to write more consistently. I have a nine month-old baby and it's hard to find time for creative things, so I'm very grateful to anyone who's been hanging out for more of this story! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, hmu! 🥰

#j robert oppenheimer #near zero #cillian murphy fanfiction #fem reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer x y/n

[thesolarangel]

A touch of cinnamon and spice

Chapter 1

Summary: Eddie and Steve meet for the first time at college under awkward circumstances. Well, at least for Eddie.

1.438 words · Rated: G · College AU, no upside down · fluff, pining, getting together, cozy cute fall fanfic with minimum drama and zero angst or warnings!

Thanks again to @elronds-pointy-ears for reading my first unhinged draft and giving me some thoughts on how to deepen the interactions between them! @niennawept for beta reading my edited draft, you helped me so much, THANK YOU again! …. and for @lady-of-imladris for helping me choose a title! I love you guys!

Read on AO3 here

Chapter 1 · throwback · summer ‘86

“You’re kidding… College?” Eddie chuckled, staring at his uncle wide eyed.

They had been standing in the kitchen of their trailer home, a few weeks after Eddie had graduated, discussing where he could go from there. If it were up to Eddie, he’d just get famous with his metal band “Corroded Coffin” right away and tour the country, but these things didn’t happen over night. And it wasn’t like Wayne decided over Eddie’s life. He was of age, he could decide on his own. But Wayne’s opinion mattered to him greatly. This man had provided for Eddie for half of his life and he was deeply grateful for that.

Wayne crossed his arms and looked at him sternly. “Listen, kid, I know high school was tough –”

“That’s the understatement of the year, right there.” Eddie snorted.

He had managed to get his high school diploma on the third try. Keeping up with homework and studying for exams never came easy to him. He had had trouble concentrating and listening to what was being discussed in class and the teachers labeled him as lazy without even trying to get through to him.

When it came to math, history and other school subjects that Eddie found boring, it was almost like there was an invisible force pulling his attention away, keeping him from concentrating and it was very hard to fight that.

But eventually, with the help of a terrific new guidance counselor that had transferred to his school that year and the support of his uncle, he had made it somehow. Alumni of ‘86, baby!

“Eddie, you’re incredibly talented when it comes to the stuff you’re interested in. You’re creative, driven… I’ve seen the artwork you put up in your room… and you learned that puppet song within a week it came out.”

“Master of Puppets”, Eddie corrected him. And how could he not, it was a legendary piece by his favorite band.

“All I’m sayin’ is, would be pretty unfortunate if you wasted that kinda potential, son.”

He was right. Eddie did have a different mindset when it came to drawing, writing his own lyrics or shredding away on his guitar.

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” Eddie sighed.

A while later he had applied to a few public colleges in the area that had art programs. For his application portfolio Eddie had collected some design work he did for the promotion of their band, some pencil sketches and several elaborate fantasy drawings he did for his recent DnD campaign. And he had gotten in!

_______

October 5th 1987

Fall had always been Eddie’s favorite season ever since he was little. The deep red color of the fallen maple leaves was his favorite color and he secretly loved crunching the dry leaves under his boots. With every passing day of summer, he looked forward to cooler temperatures, horror movie nights and of course: Halloween. While planning his costume in his head, he put the hood of his parka over his unruly brown hair and made his way to class.

This was going to be his 3rd semester of studying fine art and so far he was doing really well, despite his own doubts. Learning about the subjects he was interested in and acquiring new creative skills had proven to be much more straightforward and uncomplicated for him than high school stuff.

College had given Eddie the chance for a fresh start. For the first time, he wasn’t the freak, the loser, the kid with the weird hair who listened to “devil” music. The university offered all kinds of programs and they had a big art department ranging from photography and fine art to design and film-making. So naturally, there were plenty of art nerds, film geeks and a variety of young people studying alongside Eddie. He fit right in and he had also made some new, real friends.

Jonathan, his roommate, was studying photography and English and wanted to become a journalist. He already wrote a weekly column in the school’s paper. Jonathan was the intelligent, kind, introverted type with short shaggy dark blonde hair and inconspicuous appearance. Eddie connected with him through his open-mindedness and his passion for music.

Argyle lived in another dorm down the hall. He studied film-making and worked part time at a local pizza shop from where he often swiped pizzas for them. He was a laid-back, approachable guy, who got along with everyone and also hugged everyone when he had the chance. With his long black hair, tall stature and colorful clothing, he stood out in most places.

Eddie thought he was very lucky to have met them since making friends had never been easy for him in the past. Both of them were very easy to get along with and they also had a lot of shared interests.

…

Eddie arrived at a seemingly empty classroom, illuminated by the bright morning sun. Several canvas stands and some chairs were set up for the students. He chose a seat and dropped his bag and coat on the back of the chair.

When he sat down and combed through his backpack for his pencil case, he heard something rustling from behind the nearby folding screen. Obviously not thinking this through, Eddie wandered over and found –

Oh.

His eyes landed on the muscular naked back of a stranger who was in the process of getting undressed. Eddie froze. Unable to take his eyes off of this guy’s athletic physique. His tanned skin was patterned with plenty of freckles that looked like stars in a beautiful constellation which Eddie desperately needed to explore. Those jeans hugged his butt perfectly and when he took them off, they revealed tight black boxer briefs and broad hairy thighs. Eddie wanted nothing more than to have his head crushed by those legs. Oh, what a way to go.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

A voice ripped him from his fantasy. Fuck.

The gorgeous stranger was now facing Eddie with both hands on his hips and a slightly cocky expression. Eddie noticed his beautiful hazel eyes, pouty lips and effortlessly styled hair. His strong chest was even hairier than his legs and a dark little happy trail disappeared at the rim of his underwear which displayed a significant bulge.

Fuuuuck.

“I’m so sorry!” Eddie almost yelled when he realized he had been staring. He could feel the burn of embarrassment on his face but like a deer in headlights, he stood there completely frozen.

The brunette smirked. “Don't worry about it, you're gonna see me nude in a minute anyhow", he replied in a smug voice. Eddie went even redder if that was at all possible.

Right, they were going to do nude sketches today, to learn some anatomy… Eddie felt he had already learned a lot.

“Alright, I’m gonna, uh… go, yes, I’m gonna go set up”, he stumbled backwards, averting the stranger’s view.

Little by little the classroom filled with students and their tutor arrived and gave them a quick instruction on sketching techniques when drawing from a live model. Two other students closed the door and blinds and placed a small platform in the middle of the room. They were ready to start drawing.

The handsome stranger emerged completely naked from behind the folding screen. He seemed very secure in his body, judging the way he stepped gracefully onto the platform, striking a pose the tutor had asked for.

Eddie tried so hard to look at him in a professional manner as he began sketching his beautiful body. He roughly outlined his proportions with some charcoal on his sketchbook. He tried to keep a straight face when his view landed on the model’s dick. And what a gorgeous one it was… Eddie felt his heart thump violently in his chest.

In a moment of carelessness when Eddie’s eyes wandered over his freckled skin upwards to his handsome face, their eyes locked. The brunette gave him a wink and held his view. If he was flattered or amused, Eddie couldn’t tell, his face was burning up once again and he tried to hide behind his sketchbook.

Focus, Munson. You just gotta keep it together for 20 more minutes!

His hand swept over the paper, messily sketching and filling in the model silhouette with charcoal. At this point, he didn’t care if the drawings turned out badly, he just wanted to get out of there, away from this awkward situation. Once he was done, he quickly packed up his stuff and rushed out of the classroom.

...

To be continued...

tag list: @starlady66 @bananaphanta @runawaymun @mistergandalf @fenharel-enaste @queenmeriadoc @elronds-pointy-ears @hbyrde36 @hammity-hammer @corrodedbisexual @spoookysix @rozzieroos @cranberrymoons

devider by @firefly-graphics

#steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #fluff fanfiction #steddie fluff #meet cute #awkward meet cute fanfic #college au fanfic #college au #steddie college au #spicy six fanfic #steve x eddie #autumn fanfic #fall fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfic writing #ao3fic #fanfic

[sharingoreozwithbeelfox]

A request if you want to do this, if you dont its fine.

The Celestial realm wanting to go to war again, and the brothers meet with the Archangels, MC reaction to their reaction

I am INCREDIBLY late and I am so so sorry for that. I think the OM hyperfixation is looming again so I'm gonna try to get through these requests I've left sitting!

Obey Me spoilers ahead!

I have no idea what would cause another Celestial War. Perhaps with Diavolo bringing such peace between the worlds, the same intermingling that doomed angel Lilith would happen again, and the older, less accepting angels would not be happy about that.

Diavolo is horrified at the prospect. He wants peace, and he fears that another Celestial War would reset everything he's worked for.

Lucifer, who cares almost as much about Diavolo's dreams as Diavolo himself, elects to go visit Michael and try to convince him to find a peaceful solution. He trusts that if he can convince anyone, it's Michael. They were almost brothers once, after all.

Despite Mammon being intimidated by Michael, he speaks up with surprising conviction. "C'mon, Michael. I may have been a good-for-nothin' when you were teachin' me, but I've learned a lot since then, and I've seen what a war could do. You don't want this!"

Leviathan backs him up on that. He's an admiral, after all.

Satan wasn't alive yet for the Great Celestial War, but he's seen the effect it had on his brothers. He may not have the receipts to give to Michael, who he doesn't know, but he supports his brothers 100%.

So does Asmodeus, and tho he remembers the war, I can't think of smth unique for him to say.

Honestly, Beel and Belphie may need to sit the negotiations out. I think talking abt the war while trying to prevent another one may get them pretty worked up.

Believe it or not, Michael does not want this. He doesn't want a war. He wants peace, too. He's intrigued by Diavolo's dream of unity, and by the new lives of his former allies. He regrets fighting against them in the first place. On his own, he's not impossible to convince. He just needs to worry about support from the other angels (save for Raphael and Luke, of course), especially the boys' father...

ig MC's reaction depends on your personal MC, but I can imagine it's a tense time for everyone. If the brothers bring you along to meet with Michael, it's a little unfortunate that you couldn't meet him under better circumstances.

#maymay #beel #lucy #belphie #levi #tannie #asmo #obey me #obey me michael #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me brothers #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #oreo crunches #oreo writes #oreo answers

[shallyne]

The Diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 6

CHAPTER 6!!!! EXCITING! This is now the time jump. Reminder: new names because new identities. Enjoy! Whole fic is on AO3

Words: 1.5k

TW: nightmares, mentions of death, mentions of guns

8 years later

November 20th

Dear Diary,

I am back! It's been a long time and a lot has happened but at the same time, not that much. There have been some rocky moments the past years but altogether life was pretty damn normal. Mara, Daisy and I all went to community college. Mara graduated with a degree in journalism and is now working at the Velaris Times while Daisy decided to work at a bakery that just opened in town after graduating with a psychology degree. I, myself, have started a zoology degree but I dropped out in the first year because it just wasn't possible time and money wise. Mara had just started working at the Velaris Times and Elain was in the midst of college so I decided to work instead of studying. Financially it was pretty tight during that time but we managed. We would manage again now that Mara and Daisy are working, I could go back to college but I am not sure if I should go back to zoology. It’s been amazing and incredibly interesting but it just wasn’t for me. There’s still the possibility of art school but I haven’t drawn anything since that day. I can’t paint anymore but the prospect of it is still lingering, hovering over me like the ghost of my old self. I’ll have to think about it but for now I am okay with my perfectly mid job.

Although our jobs haven’t been the only things in our lives that changed, Mara has met two girls who are now her friends, Emerie and Gwyn, with whom she now has a book club and Daisy met twins who she hangs out with all the time, doing her favorite things like gardening and baking. Their names are Nuala and Cerridwen and they work for some rich guy who just moved here.

I also made a friend, his name is Lucien. We met through my boyfriend, Tamlin. Lucien and I couldn’t really stand each other at first, he was such an asshole. Well, he still is but I grew to like it about him.

Tamlin and I met under different circumstances, he hit me with his car. It was just an accident because he was looking on his phone and when he helped me hobble out of the hospital, because he broke my foot, he asked me on a date and I agreed. He’s a perfectly nice gentleman. Of course he has his flaws but don’t we all? Rhysand didn’t. Especially my old friend who lied to me throughout our whole friendship.

Oh! I also tried to get Eras Tour tickets but they were quite expensive, unfortunately. Maybe someone will sell theirs or I’ll get some for a future tour.

Alright, time for dinner.

Later!

November 21st

N Mara brought a vacancy flyer home today for me. It’s for some fancy Lounge in downtown Velaris who’s looking for a waitress. I am absolutely underqualified for this position but she says I should try anyway because it pays well. We wrote an application together that sounded a little more professional than my previous ones, it is necessary if I want to work there.

Getting the job would help us tremendously, we could get a new couch AND afford the good toilet paper, wouldn’t that just be amazing? I can’t let myself daydream too far because chances are high I won’t get the job. Daisy said she’s sure I’ll get the job if they meet me but I’d need a job interview first so that is a big IF.I am trying to hope for the best but expect the worst.

We will drop the application off tomorrow and get a look at the Lounge. Pray that I won't freeze to death, it's COLD.

November 22nd

I haven't had nightmares for two years. I had a nightmare again. I just woke up, I have to write it down.

I was back at home and mom just died, we just got the news. Everyone was in shock, no one moved. It was so quiet.

The doorbell rang, I went to the door just like I did when they got dad. I opened it, I opened the door.

I shouldn't have opened the door.

But I did.

They stormed in, they held us at gunpoint.

I just told Rhys that he's dead to me

I wish he was here

Because I'm going to die. I was going to die, I knew it.

But he was there, I don't know how. I don't know how he did it but he was there suddenly. He would protect me, always. I knew that, I always knew that. I've just been angry. I know it wasn't his fault. He just wanted to protect me. I wished I could tell him, right then. But they killed him, right in front of my eyes. Because he wanted to protect me. He died because of me. It was my fault.

I tried to move, to protect my sisters. I needed to protect them, it was my fault that Rhys was dead. I have to protect them from the same fate but it's too late. I can still hear the gunshots ringing in my ears. One. Two. Elain, dead. Three. Four. Nesta, dead. I want to scream, I want to rush forward but I can't. I can't.

Then I was looking down the barrel of a gun.

Then I woke up.

I can barely breathe.

November 23rd

I was on a lunch date with Tamlin today, it was fine until a waiter spilled some water on the table and he went through the roof. It was only a little bit of spilled water, it hadn't even spilled on his clothes. It took me forever to calm him down. I hope the waitress is alright, I left her a bigger tip.

When we sat in the car and Tamlin finally calmed down he apologized. Then, which is very exciting, Nesta called me because a letter from the Lounge I applied to arrived just then and I told her to open it and tell me. The seconds she took to open the envelope and read felt like an eternity BUT they invited me to a job interview!!! Isn't that just so exciting? Never in a million years I would have thought they would even think about inviting me but they did! For TOMORROW. The reply and the job interview both went so fast, I can't wrap my mind around it. Tamlin seemed semi-interested in the news but I'm sure he will think differently tomorrow, he had somewhat of a bad day today.

I went home and instantly threw my good pants in the washer, they are drying now. I'm as excited as I am nervous, this job could change quite a lot for us.

I should really go to sleep, I don't want to seem tired during my interview.

I'm thanking the stars that they listened and answered!! Maybe fate DOES exist! (Okay, Feyre, calm down. You don't even have the job yet.)

November 24th

I've got the job.

Tamlin said I shouldn't take it and move in with him, that he could take care of me and my sisters. Nesta said she would rather stab out her eyes.

Although Tamlin and his proposal isn't what's worrying me right now, it's how I got the job.

Why I got the job.

Let's start from this morning.

I woke up at six AM because I've been so nervous. I prepared questions that could be asked and the answers, took a shower, ate breakfast, cleaned my room, put on some makeup and then got dressed and made my way downtown. My whole thoughts were about this interview, because it's important, for me, for Mara, for Daisy.

I was half an hour too early so I went and got a coffee. Unfortunately my nerves didn't let me sit still for more than two minutes so I walked up and down the street until it was finally time.

There was a nice lady, I don't remember her name, who led me to an office in the back because my interview was with the boss himself. The whole Lounge was so luxurious, even though I was wearing my best outfit it felt incredibly cheap in comparison but it was so tasteful, I kind of felt comfortable?

Then the lady knocked on the door and left, leaving me alone as I entered the office.

I knew instantly, right as I stepped into the office. It's been 8 years, we became adults, we grew up, but I knew before he looked up from his paperwork. I knew that a pair of almost-violet eyes would stare at me, a pair that was scribbled all over my old notebooks.

He did look at me, his eyes almost the same, but they seemed more dark and haunted now. But when he recognized me, he lit up.

But I was stuck there because-

What the fuck is Rhysand doing in Velaris????

Excerpt from a chat between Rhysand and Morrigan

Rhysand: I'm sending a car over, you need to come ASAP

Morrigan: What??? What happened?

Rhysand: I can't tell you over text, get in the car and come over here

Morrigan: Jeez, this better be good

Morrigan: I'm delaying my nail appointment for you

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #high lady of the night court #high lady feyre #feyre darling #rhysand #rhys #high lord rhysand #rhysand archeron #rhys acotar #high lord of the night court #feysand #archeron sisters #feysand fan fiction #feysand fanfiction #Feysand fanfic #feysand fic #feysand au #acotar fanfiction #acotar fan fiction #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #acotar au

[d4t-webserial]

D4T: Page 5 (Lu POV)

go here for more info on d4t

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On one of the rare instances that Lu told Alice about his life he mentioned the school he was going to, to which she excitedly told him she lives in the same city. This is awful, no matter how much he’s become a man, part of him will always be that transbian who wants to uhaul after the first date (and even more so fall hopelessly in love with your friend who’ll never like you back ;-;). Even the moment after this information came about she suggested they hang out, he brushed it off with a simple “hehe maybe later” but knew he couldn’t resist for long, he was under no circumstance going to being to able to deny his only close friend (and an upsettingly pretty one too) the opportunity to hang. 

Looking up at his ceiling he thinks about how over it is, when they meet she’s gonna realize how lame he is, and even if she’s fine with that he’ll be completely unable to hide his infatuation with her (he’s surprised he was even able to so far), and then she’ll be grossed out and not want anything to do with him. Life is hell. After a lot of pestering he agreed to hangout, at first she wanted to do it at her house (which is horrifying! what if he was a murderer, or a rapist!) but he convinced her to instead hang at a small restaurant near where she lived. He unfortunately couldn’t get her to untell him her address, but what can you do? 

After around 15 minutes of waiting for her, Alice finally arrived. Lu, waiting for her outside asked… 

Lu: “do you always come this late?” 

Alice: “well i had to walk here”

she looks at him pointedly

Alice: “if you picked me up it would have been easier.”

he doesn’t make eye contact

Lu: “u-um yea i g-guess… i just,, it uh,, would’ve seemed a bit strange no?”

Alice: “whatever you say”

They walk in and order their food. Lu can’t help but notice that her outfit tho masc enough to throw off her parents, is still incredibly attractive (and also that it compliments… nothing, absolutely nothing,... he’s normal). She looks up at him with a small smirk as she drinks, her eyes are stunningly b- no no nonononono. Taking a deep breath in, Lu decides to engage in conversation, because tho he isn’t good at talking, it is something to keep his mind… where it needs to be. They talk about the food they had and what they liked or disliked about it, they talked about the things that they usually do, friendship, hobbies, life and so on. And in that Lu had a brilliant idea.

Lu: “so have you been talking to any guys”

she picks at her napkins

Alice: “...umm there’s one i’m kinda talking to”

(jackpot)

Lu: “that’s sick! are you into him?”

she sits more upright and looks intently at her food

Alice: “ye, but it’s complicated…”

(fuck)

Lu: “how so?”

.

.

.

Alice: “i don’t think i wanna talk about this, with you”

Lu: “me?”

she goes wide eyed like she misspoke and quickly tries to correct herself

Alice: “or like, right now”

Alice: “right now i just wanna chill”

Lu: “o-oh o-o-of course, s-s-ssorry for uhh,, bringing it up”

Maybe his idea wasn’t so brilliant. He wanted to hear her talk about some guy she was obsessed with, so that his “supportive friend” drive would beat out his “god i love women” drive, but instead he touched on a sore spot… “with him” why him? did she still think he liked her (well he did but he thought was doing a good job hiding it), is it just like a guy thing, like this is something you talk about with the girlfriends not your dude friends? It was probably that. They sit in silent awkwardness for a while since he is completely unable to navigate social situations like this. Eventually the conversation picks up again, and it’s like nothing happened. After an hour or so hanging out Alice asks if he wanted to come hang at hers, he again insisted they didn’t know each other well enough but…

Alice: “cmon! we can even watch your stupid shows together!”

.

.

.

Lu: “f-ffine… for a bit…”

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#d4t #webnovel #web fiction #webfiction #web serial #webserial #romance #queer #trans #transgender #detrans #lu #lu d4t #lu d4twebnovel #d4t-webserial

[kazemiya]

hello hello!^^ may i request your last leo/hiiro work wirh izumi and mao? thank you have a lovely day!<3

★彡Summary: Izumi and Mao being jealous at a s/o concert

a/n: apologies for the last answer to this request i've been busy plus motivation wasn't quite there. i hope they aren't ooc tho, nonetheless, pls enjoy and thanks for requesting!

♡ Izumi

Izumi put aside time from idol activities to come and even if he sounds reluctant, trust me he's probably marking the days off his calendar

"I guess since I have a bit of time, I can go-" "oh oh it's fineee if your too busy I'll just give this ticket to Aira, I'm pretty sure he'll love to take it" before you can finish speaking the ticket is already snatched out of your hand

When the performance finally started, did you always shine so bright? He could almost feel himself falling for you all over again. Just harder this time, crashing on him like a wave.

Unfortunately for him, that night, he wasn't the only one who was falling for you... Your thousands, possibly millions of fans squealing your name over and over again.

Under such circumstances, how could Izumi not get slightly jealous. Just slightly or so he says.

"Heyyy Senaa, how did ya enjoy the concert?" you questioned, grinning.

"You were... fine, could hardly hear you from the crowd yelling your name so loudly" purposefully adverting his gaze away from you, mumbling that last part.

"But it's a concert, of course they'll be yelling- ohhhh" then realisation hit you, he was jealous. "Oh my didn't peg you as the jealous type"

His head whipped up to face you so quickly at your words, "wha- who said anything about jealousy?? The crowd was just too loud"

"Sure sure~ Your so sweet, coming to support me. I love you Sena" you giggled thinking back to the pouting Izumi you saw in the audience.

Izumi reached out to clasp you hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your hands, squeezing them a little. Bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss on your palm. This was his way of saying “I love you” back.

♡ Mao

Mao is honoured to be invited to your concert! It isn't everyday that he is given a break from his role as President in the Student Council.

It's even rarer to be able to attend your concert as the tickets usually sell out in seconds.

When watching your performance, the only thing he could think of in that moment is the infinite amount of praises he was going to proclaim to you when he finally meets you.

However, amidst those praises, there's definitely an unnerving weighing him down a little.

He immediately tries to shrug off the feeling, especially since he should be happy for you!

"Hey hey Mao!" you greeted him with a little wave which he immediately waved back to. Pulling you in by your waist, he enveloped you a tight hug. A little too tight.

Patting his back lightly to ease the tight hug, you asked "can't- breath-, why the tight hug today?"

"Just missed you, you did amazing as usual. Can we go home now? I have a movie night planned" mumbling into your neck. You cocked an eyebrow at his slightly clingy behavior. It wasn't unwelcome behaviour but it definitely wasn't familiar.

Pressing a kiss on his jaw, you felt his cheeks warm up a little. "Of course, of course you have my attention for the rest of the night!"

#kaze writes #mao x reader #mao isara x reader #mao isara imagines #mao isara #izumi x reader #izumi sena x reader #izumi sena #ensemble stars x y/n #ensemble stars fluff #ensemble stars imagines #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars

[lets-try-some-writing]

(sorry if this sounds too weird lmao)

do you happen to have any ideas on how cybertronians would be executed in the past and present? I feel like it isn't really touched on in canon (from what i've consumed atleast)

Dude no this is right up my alley. This is the kind of worldbuilding every good universe needs.

Thank you @spreadwardiard for helping me brainstorm this concept :D

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During the first age that came after the Primes fell and long before the Quintessons made their claim, executions were rare and a very solemn affair. Predacons were a far greater threat than any mech who lived alongside the groups of Cybertronians who roamed the surface, desperate to survive but one more cycle. Despite that, there were still times when using force to eliminate a threat too great was required. Not a spark looked on the act fondly, especially since in those days redemption was something that every mech was willing to try and assist in making come to pass.

However there were simply some times when eliminating an internal threat was required, and when those times came, it was taken very seriously. The mech who was to meet their end would first be granted one small final wish, be it to visit a place or to meet someone. After that they would be prayed for by all who cared for them and given the chance to make their final declaration before all those who they once resided with. From there the mech would be given a good last meal before being taken out into the wilds to the most beautiful spot known to their executioners. Only once to mech to meet their end had time to take in the glory of the world they left behind would they be swiftly and painlessly executed through either swift acting toxins or manual system shutdown.

This was the way executions were done. It was solemn and not a spark took joy in it. The loss of life was to be lamented, not praised, no matter the crime. But once the Quintessons came, executions changed to suit their desires.

Executions became more frequent and turned into a way of making a statement. The Quintessons started making shows of deaths they ordered, having the 'guilty' mecha presented on a stage before being cut down by blade or blaster. There was no reverence or solemn sorrow, no, instead all the deaths did was inspire fear. However under the Quintessons, it was not death the people of Cybertron feared. Compared to the dark and cruel things that could be done to the living, those who lost their helms to a sword were far better off. Not a spark wanted to be one of the unfortunate few cursed to endure empurata or processor alterations.

Death was, by comparison, a mercy. Executions under the Quintessons were to make a point, but they were still rather rare as the Quintessons much preferred turning troublemakers into their personal tools. It was enough to keep most in line.

Under the council though? Executions turned from being simply cold to downright cruel. Mecha were rarely killed outright, for that would be too simple and look too much like the Quintessons public methods of execution. No, mecha who earned the ire of the council were often given round about methods of the death sentence. Being sent down to do hard labor in the mines looked like a mercy to the public when in reality those sent there rarely came back alive. Being thrown to fight in the pits was nearly guaranteed to kill a mech with how brutal and rigged combat was. Then of course there were those who simply vanished under mysterious circumstances or happened to be 'sent off world' only to never be seen again.

Deaths under the council were rarely public, but they were present and quite common. To be killed outright was a mercy rather than being sent to the pits or the mines, much less to the medical centers for the council. Mecha remembered the Quintessons meddling, and the council were not afraid to follow in the pedesteps of their former overlords in some regards.

When the war started, death became so commonplace that executions were largely regarded as a part of life. Depending on the era of the war and the stakes, executions were more brutal or tame. When things were at their worst, executions were used as a way to improve morale to a degree, to give soldiers a sense of victory and closure after all the harm done. Torture tended to come first, then death by the blade of a mech who earned the right or was burdened with the task of ending the life before them. The Autobots leaned more toward quick deaths by blade and the Decepticons toward drawn out deaths to make a statement. But neither were very consistent in their methods and many grotesque ends came about from both factions.

During the war, death was more common than life. It was revered in a strange way and taken to the extreme when times were tough. Executions lost their fulfillment long ago, with little regard given to the loss of life after so long desensitized to it.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #pre war cybertron #cybertronian culture #death #executions #autobots #decepticons #this was interesting to consider #thinking about how much meaning was lost over time #so long spent with death being the norm #it must have changed things