#wlw story

[savannahsdeath]

katniss’ strap game??? (like a lil blurb or something ‼️)

MDNI ! just headcanons<3 warnings: smut (obv), strap on usage (r!receiving), referring to strap as 'cock' and 'dick', dom!katniss, katniss and reader are 18+

what? let's start with basic info; katniss definitely owns more than one strap, but i'll focus on her main one, which is most definitely green — that's her favourite color, after all. it's shape fits her posture, so not thick but not too thin, not long but enough to give you that strreetch. it's as realistic as some silicone could be, since she loves seeing how your body would handle every single detail. she refers to it as either "my cock" or "my dick", depending on the circumstances. she finds the second option more aggressive and stern, so she chooses this one when you were bratty or she had a bad day.

where? she isn't the type to wear it absolutely everywhere, though if she knows she might have a chance to use it, she definitely will put on an oversized shirt that will cover the bulge. she loves having romantic sex in the comfort of your warm bed but she's tolerant when it comes to places. let's just say.. sometimes, katniss isn't a person who cares a lot about morality.

when? when you're both in the mood, of course. to be more exact, katniss gets horny in pretty random moments. you might just watch tv together, relaxed in each other's presence, when she notices how hot her girlfriend is and decides to take action.

how? oh, she has two sides. as i mentioned above, she really enjoys romantic sex. she says how much she loves you and she thrusts into you like she means it. just you and her, the rest doesn't matter. but as i also said earlier, there are times when she has to fuck your bratty attitude away. if that's the case, she'll be rough, especially when it comes to her words! she talks a looot during and she expects you to answer, though she makes it difficult for you as a punishment. your thighs and hips might be bruised the other day, but she makes sure she knows your limits and treats you like a princess after. she finds aftercare really important <3

✧˖°

#sav w anons ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა #reqs open #katniss everdeen x reader #katniss x reader #katniss headcanons #the hunger games katniss #katniss everdeen #thg katniss #katniss everdeen x you #katniss everdeen headcanons #the hunger games #katniss x you #lesbian #lesbian smut #wlw story #wlw smut #wlw love #wlw

[storytimewriting]

Feminine Love

To love through femininity is a softer kind of love.

The delicate touch of my fingertips, only wrapping my smallest finger             around yours, just enough for you to feel me.

The curves of my body, soft and gentle when I hold you. Our bodies align like jigsaw pieces, folding into place when they find their missing halves.

I wrap pink ribbon around your wrist, tying the end into a pretty bow, pressing my lips to your fingertips.

You run your fingers through my hair, my hands twist yours into braids, long strands reaching out begging to be tangled together.

You cradle my face in your delicate embrace,             so gentle, like you’re afraid I may break.

Two sets of crimson stained lips press together. Soft, sweet, and welcoming like the pillow I lay my head at night, I find comfort with my eyes closed.

You smell so sweet, like fresh flowers in the rain, I am drowning in you and drinking you in greedily.

I have never felt a love so earnest, so real and sincere and true. I had never known love to be gentle until I was loved by you.

#author #writing #poem #poetry #girl things #wlw relationship #wlw story #wlw post #wlw #sapphic love #sapphic #lesbian #bisexual #love poem #poets on tumblr #original poem #writers and poets #poetic #dead poets society #poems #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #original poetry #short poem #reading #love quotes #quotes #love quote #love #lovers

[kirislovelygf]

wash day (tsireya x fem! metkayina reader)

contents: you and tsireya are gfs, you braid her hair, jealous reader, kissing, intimate date, flirting, wlw cuteness, tsireya oneshot, very short story <33

wrd count: 1047 words

̩͙✧ ₊˚𖦹

tsireya’s hair was always gorgeous. always put together, always smelling like the beach. perfect.

but that was only thanks to her mom and brother. she always hated doing her hair on her own.

but today, both ao’nung and ronal were busy. so she went to find her girlfriend to help her. tsireya’s usually long, softy, curly hair was neat and put together but today it looked like..

like she was struck by lightning.

so she woke up earlier than everyone and washed her hair like normal. even with her soaps and mixtures, it still looked like a bird's nest.

once it was ready enough, she went to y/n’s marui and quickly made her presence known by calling her name.

you could hear y/n getting up and yawning while walking to the entrance.

“reya! what are you- OH!” she jumped at tsireya’s unfortunate hair once she opened the curtain. in their year and a half of dating, she’s never seen her like this.

“oh! my.. what did you do to your hair? it’s all.. how is sitting up like that?” she asked.

tsireya sighed. “i can’t do my own hair, can you help me please?”

“sure. let me get a couple things.. wow, did you cut your hair with a pincer?” y/n continued.

“y/n!”

“okay! okay, i’m sorry-“ she chuckled. y/n gathered a couple of her products into a bag and carried it with her as the couple found a spot to sit on at the beach.

y/n sat atop a boulder as tsireya sat down on the sand so it was easier.

“i don’t know how you’ve gonna so long without doing your own hair.” y/n said as she gently began to comb through tsireya’s hair.

“i know. my mom or brother have always done it for me, and they never have a problem. well, ao’nung sometimes does..”

“so make him do it.” y/n chuckled. tsireya rolls her eyes.

she winced sharply before whining. “ow! don’t rip my hair out!”

“i’m sorry! sorry, your hair is super tangled. i’m gonna put some of this cream i made..” y/n muttered.

she gently dragged her hands over tsireya’s scalp with a cooling cream she made with ronal’s guidance.

tsireya sighed out while watching the ocean rock softly against the shore.

“what would you like your hair to smell like? fruits orr..”

“oh! kiri gave me this uhm.. what was it called.. a serum! it smells like a scent that sky people use.”. tsireya was referring to coconut.

“oh! kiri gave it to you. interesting..” y/n picks up the tiny bottle.

“yeah.. kiri brought it over from her human friends in the forest. it smells really good!” she smiled.

“oh.. so you like how kiri smells. maybe you can ask her to do your hair next time.” y/n said, flipping open the top of the bottle.

“come on! don’t be like that. kiri’s just my friend.” tsireya laughed.

“sure! a friend you think smells so good!” she responded in a mocking tone.

“y/n.” tsireya turns her head to look up at her jealous girlfriend.

“i’m just kidding. anyway, kiri couldn’t stand a chance.” y/n leans down and kisses tsireya’s lips.

tsireya blushed and puts her head down again.

y/n puts the serum into tsireya’s roots, but just a bit as it was an oil and she didn’t want her hair to get super greasy.

she then began the braiding process. hours and hours passed and y/n was only able to do two rows by herself.

“shit, my back.” y/n groaned as she tried stretching out her arms and back.

“who taught you to say that?” tsireya asked curiously.

“lo’ak. hm.. we might need help. or i can just do half of your hair braided and the back half down.” y/n said, holding tsireya’s head to look at how the hairstyle would look.

“so.. like normal?” she muttered.

“…yes.” y/n mumbled. there was a beat of silence.

“yay! i’d love that.” tsireya smiled brightly.

“okay! this will be much easier.” y/n nodded.

she finished braiding the front half of tsireya’s head and left the back of her hair hang down normally.

an hour before the sun began to set, the girls finally finished up after adding a bit more scents and accessories to tsireya’s hair.

“okay.. all done!” y/n picks up her mirror and held it in front of tsireya so she could see.

tsireya gasps and looks at her new appearance. “aw, y/n..”

“do you like it?” she asks.

“are you kidding? i love it! and you did the braids so well!” tsireya said, wanting to run her hand over her head but worried she’d mess it up.

tsireya smiled and stood up too quickly, causing her to get jelly legs.

she helps as she falls into y/n’s arms and the girls giggle as they try to stand up straight.

once they actually stood, they held onto each other's arms to support themselves.

“we should have taken a break at one point.” y/n chuckled

“yeah, i forgot. i was having fun talking to you.” tsireya laughed.

y/n smiled. she took tsireya’s hand and they stumbled across the sand to go back to tsireya’s marui to show her mom her new hair.

on the way there, kiri crossed their paths.

“hi, tsireya. hi, y/n.” she smiled.

“hi kiri!” tsireya responded. y/n tried so hard not to glare at her but she gave a weak smile and nodded, “hi, kiri.”

“wow, your hair looks beautiful. who did it?” kiri said to tsireya, gently holding one of her braids. y/n then glared at her for even thinking of touching her girlfriend.

“oh uh-“

“i did it.” y/n said proudly. “nice! you look very pretty.” she smiled.

“see you guys later.” kiri waved and walked away.

tsireya reluctantly glanced up at y/n. “you look so pretty! ugh, next time she looks at you, i’ll feed her to the ilu.” she grumbled.

“y/n! she was just being nice!” tsireya argued quietly so kiri wouldn’t hear.

“no, she was flirting.” she said, looking back at kiri.

“whatever, it doesn’t matter. cause i love you.” tsireya kisses y/n’s cheek and holds her hand before they continue down the woven pathways.

̩͙✧ ₊˚𖦹

#writing blog #atwow fluff #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #writers #avatar #atwow tsireya #tsireya x y/n #tsireya x you #tsireya avatar #tsireya x reader #tsireya #wlw reads #wlw story #wlw writing #sapphic #oneshot #avatar oneshot #atwow kiri #kiri sully #kiri avatar

[randomgirl005]

Snapshots (2018)

An underrated wlw movie. If you have not seen it yet, i don't know what you are waiting for!

#snapshots movie #snapshot #wlw movie #wlw series #wlw shows #wlw story #wlw ship #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw love #wlw art #wlw positivity #wlw edit #lesbian #bisexual #pride #queer #pride month #aestestic

[cozycryptidcorner]

The Bathing Pool (detail), ca. 1753, Hubert Robert

The Princess Who Lives as a Prince (wlw)

I’m gonna do this in the style of an imagine because the idea is juicy and you deserve to have some food in between writing.

Classical/baroque era but leans more heavily on neo-Roman style architecture and fashion

Your older sister was a nanny to the royal twins once they were weaned, so you ended up hanging around them a lot as a playmate. They were mostly identical, safe for the shade of blue in their eyes and the different placements of freckles. Before puberty, they would get mixed up often.

Despite being a lesser noble, you always seemed to get what you want, even with the twins. You were always a bit of a brat, even if a well meaning one.

Your friendship with the princess rapidly evolved into a codependent homoerotic bond during you teenage years, before you were sent away to receive a formal education elsewhere.

You don’t have confirmation of this, but you think the king arranged for it because you were getting too close to his children despite your less than stellar family name.

No one bothered to tell you that the twins got sick a few years after you left until you returned. Your mother says it was to protect you, but you know they wanted you separated from them.

You were in hysterics when you found out the princess died, but every attempt to reach out to the prince to grieve was met with silence. All you want to know is if you can have something to remember her by, but he won’t respond.

But you aren’t one to take silence as an answer, so your attempts to infiltrate the palace became sneakier and sneakier until you manage to get into the prince’s room, faking being a maid.

But the prince isn’t the prince, the prince is actually the princess. And you have a bit of a moment, grief shifting into anger because of how much you thought you lost.

She almost seems relieved to not have to pretend with you, but swears you to secrecy. Begs your forgiveness. Cries in your arms as you pull yourself together.

She tells you everything then and there, about how the country will devolve into a civil war without her family, how two noble factions are plotting their power grabs and pressuring her to marry.

Anyone she marries is a risk to the plan, because any extra person who knows the secret is a risk, but you have an idea.

Her surviving mother is none too pleased, but your proposal of marriage isn’t thrown out. You are a noble lady, even a poor one, and you do have a formal education, speak multiple languages, and your history with the princess means you are likely trustworthy. The king is bedridden and senile from an unknown ailment, and might die any day, so securing the “prince” a wife is of the utmost importance.

The two of you have a quiet, quick, unpopulated ceremony in the castle chapel, leaving many to speculate the nature of your union. The consummation was a private room where the two of you shared the same bed, hands to yourselves, then mussed the sheets too look like a night of Parkin took place.

She stiffly kisses you in public, as though to show people that everything is fine. Forehead kisses, hand kisses, and eventually right on the mouth. Your stomach tingles when her lips brush against hers and you once dared to pull her in for a second one, right in front of the court. She didn’t seem annoyed, though.

You see less of her than you thought you would, though, and it pisses you off. You thought you got your friend back, but playing the part of the future king has taken her away a lot. And you can’t even complain, because the queen doesn’t care if her daughter’s fake wife is at all happy.

Until an assassin crawls into you room at night, likely sent from one of the power-grabbing families. The princess is furious, pulls you from your room and patches you up in hers.

She is clearly fuming, and says that you’ll be sleeping in her room from then on. The extra security of being with the future king doesn’t matter to you as much as being able to sleep in the same bed.

One of her knights (who wasn’t in on the secret) notices that she keeps her hands to herself despite the beauty in her bed (at those words, you blushed, and her eye twitched oddly). She told him it was none of his business.

But he gave her a very special scroll that you opened once he left, promptly bursting into nervous giggles. Sex positions. You’re no maiden, but the blatant artwork turned your face bright red and hot.

She commented on it stiffly, but you noticed there were some… interesting instructions that didn’t necessarily involve… well, the man’s pillar. Your interest sparked.

Fingers and tongues. You squirm in your chair, knowing that she could touch you as readily as you touch yourself.

Do you like the idea? Your body is hot and dripping with the thought of her hands brushing between your thighs. Would she want to? You don’t know, and your stomach drops a little bit.

Yet another assassination attempt, this time when you were out with your attendants. If the princess hadn’t been near he to hear your scream, it would have been over. She gutted the assassin before they even had a chance to beg for mercy and all but drags you back to the palace.

You attend her bath and wash her wounds, fingers lingering on her shoulders and neck a little too long. Something in your body heats and grows wet with the sight of her nakedness. You want. You want, but don’t know how to say it.

“I see you as my husband,” you say once, trying to find the words for it. “Do you see me as your wife?”

“I see you as something more,” she says, elusively.

There’s a tension in the air. You know she feels it too, though you don’t know if she’s afraid to act on it or doesn’t want to. Does she find you as alluring as the men of the court do? You have a line of noblemen and merchants looking to be your secret lover.

“I hunger,” you say to her, “I need- I need to be touched and brought to ecstasy by another.”

Her shoulder tenses, her back turned. “Then find someone to do it.”

“I want you to do it.” You are barely more than a desperate whore, but you’ll beg on your hands and knees.

“A shame I don’t have the correct parts.” She says.

Fuming, you walk over to the bookshelf where she stashed the scroll, standing on a chair to reach the top. With an aggressive bump of your hip, you push her slightly out of the way so you can unroll the illustrations on her desk.

Both of you are heaving with heat as you point to a certain position where both participants are lying on their sides, the man’s hand snaking over the woman’s waste, fingers pushing between her folds.

Before you can verbalize what you want, she’s called away for something.

She’s back after you’ve gotten ready for bed, all tucked in the covers. She doesn’t say anything when she lies down, the bed sinking with her weight.

Then she’s close. Her breasts pressing up against your back, her breath on the nape of your neck, her fingers brushing against your hip.

“Do you want it?” She asks, and you know what she’s talking about.

“Please,” you say, opening your legs a little.

#reader insert #sapphic love #wlw story #reader imagine #oc/reader #story #reader insert story

[out-of-luck-and-minorly-stuck]

The Girl At Scoops Ahoy || Robin Buckley x You

(fem!reader x Stranger Things)

"Welcome to Scoops, what can I get you?" A girl in a sailor uniform plainly said, clearly bored while staring at the table counter, not making eye contact.

"I-Um, one scoop of chocolate, please" you smiled looking at her, trying to be friendly. You knew her of course, but never actually knew her full name, just Buckley. You sat behind her and admired her during your English classes for a year, 8th grade.

"Oh-kay, coming right up" She must have a rough day or something, you thought.

"I INTERCEPTED A SECRET RUSSIAN TRANSMISSION!" A curly haired boy abruptly yelled out. You turned your head to the boy, confusingly. The boy's voice was loud, getting all the unwanted concerned and confused gazes from the other people at the ice cream shop.

You heard the girl groan, still scooping your chocolate ice cream and when she was done, you handed her the money in exchange for your ice cream.

"Have a nice day" she said, still in her monotonic voice and most definitely, still no eye contact.

"Yeah, you too-" you smiled, glancing at her name tag that said, "-Robin" you said as you read the little name tag on her uniform, still grinning. Finally, her name.

She looked up to face you, guilt filling up her body for treating you like an apparent shit. Few minutes of interaction, you see her actually smiling. Your heart fluttered.

A smile definitely looks good on her.

"Y/N" you heard her mumble.

She knows you. How?

-

"Wait so you're saying that she knows your name?! Are you even sure it really is Buckley?!"

You sat on your bed, telling what happened earlier to your best friend, Maggie as she freaked out.

"Yep" You nodded, popping the 'p'.

"Oh my god! And I wasn't even there!! How dare you!!!" Maggie shook you by your shoulders, screaming.

"It's so hard to believe you right now, like are you fucking with me?" She calmed down, slowly asking you just to make sure.

"Why's it such a big thing, it's not like she even knows I fancy her..."

"Damn, at least she notices you! Steve even barely notices me!” Maggie huffed, pursing her lips and crossing her arms.

"Speaking of Steve, I think he works there" you pointed out.

"Steve? Steve Harrington?"

"I'm pretty sure you know which Steve I'm talking about"

"Oh my god, they're ice cream buddies?! Let's go there tomorrow!!"

#robin buckley #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin stranger things #steve stranger things #dustin stranger things #ocs #wlw #wlw story #wlw fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #scoops ahoy #scoops robin #scoops troop #scoops steve

[byleahgracie]

New story alert! I've started writing a sapphic romance fantasy/historical webnovel for Tapas' "True Love on Tapas" contest!

I'd LOVE if you could check it out and, if you have a tapas account, subscribe and give it a like and comment if you enjoy reading it!!

It's full of time travel, sapphic love, and a quest to save a world, mostly set in Regency England :D

#webnovel #portal fantasy #historical romance #romance fantasy #sapphic #wlw #gl series #girl love #lesbian romance #sapphic love #wlw story

[her-stars]

feeling inspired to finish writing my two vampire queens of rival covens who are conspiring to work together to destroy their common enemy story

#lesbian #wlw blog #lgbtq #wlw #lesbian vampires #queer werewolves #wlw textpost #wlw writing #wlw story #sapphic horror #horror romance #mystery thriller #girlswholikegirls #wlw post #nonbinary #medieval fantasy

[grrl-paz]

The Rose & Liv Inn - a story about two sapphic lovers who have owned an Inn together for decades.

#wlw #old lesbians #lesbian #lesbian stories #lesbian comic #lesbian love #older lesbian #cottagecore #cottagecore lesbian #wlw cottagecore #sapphic #bisexual #lgbt pride #older bisexual women #please give me likes i really want to continue this narrative #lesbian lover #girl in red #wlw story

[savannahsdeath]

➶ CAN I HAVE THIS DANCE?

K. EVERDEEN

summary: you and katniss dance at the finnick&annie's wedding <3

warnings: alcohol and language but its pure flufff, katniss has a huge crush on you but she doesnt really understand her feelings untill...

a/n: pleaaaase let me know if u guys liked it and want more katniss:pp this is for my fav katniss lover (hi i know ur reading this anon !!)🩷

katniss was sitting opposite peeta, with you on her left side and haymitch on the other. she hoped she could stop him from drinking too much that way, but she eventually gave up. finnick was getting married, after all - that's something worth celebrating, and if his way of doing that is by drinking, then so be it. you couldn't care less. what you cared about, though, was taking her away from this table. she didn't look happy at all, not even bored, just... somehow out of place. of course, she smiled at you every one in a while. how could she not?

you were sitting there, the prettiest girl in her world, wearing the prettiest dress she ever saw, joking with peeta and already drunk haymitch. she heard you giggling and her heart melted. you made the girl on fire feel like she was really on fire, burning more and more with each of your moves. the point is, she was sure that's a bad feeling, yet she loved it. she was addicted to it.

but you were clueless.

she scraped her fork across the plate, making a sound which hurt your ears.

you propped your head on your hands. "what's wrong?" you frowned, trying to see through her.

she immediately smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "nothing's wrong."

"uh-huh..." you hummed, straightening up and tapping your nails on the table. your eyebrows furrowed, hoping she'll continue, but that was all she had to say.

she looked at the freshly married couple and her smile slowly faded away. once her gaze came back to you, you weren't in your place anymore. you now stood behind her and tapped her shoulder.

haymitch laughed, apparently predicting what you are up to. she also chuckled, before turning around to take your extended hand.

she stood up, her eyes drifting between your eyes and lips. "i'm not the best dancer" she admitted.

"we don't have to dance dance..." you reassured her, slowly making your way to the parquet, dragging her closely behind you.

once you got there, you loosely wrapped your hands around her neck, propping them on her shoulders. she hesitated before putting her own on your waist, but you moved a little closer, making it less awkward.

"so, how do you like it?" you smirked, as the two of you started to sway to the slow music.

"well, i'm happy for finnick." she looked at him one more time. "and the food is good."

you giggled and nodded. "of course it is, peeta's the man behind the baked goods." you paused for a moment, licked your lips and bit your bottom one. "you just don't look like you're having fun."

"oh, sweetheart, i do." she shook her head and smiled. she seemed genuine, but you knew what you saw earlier.

you cleared your throat. "then, let me put it another way. what would make you even happier to be here?"

katniss raised her right hand and tugged a strand of your hair behind your ear. her moves were slow, so you could perfectly feel how her finger brushes your skin and lasts there for a few seconds, giving you goosebumps. "i think i'm a little jealous." she grinned.

"jealous?" you frowned, pouting your already dry lips.

"yes, jealous" she confirmed. "i'd rather have my own wedding— with flowers, a huge cake baked by peeta with a little, made of icing me on top. me and..." she stopped speaking as her eyes pierced your body and seemed to look somewhere behind you. you gave her a minute, before she suddenly came back to reality. "you know."

you smiled again, this time not from amusement but admiration. you moved closer, so you could whisper while knowing she can hear you. "i didn't know you want something so serious."

"i didn't know either, that's why i'm so upset." she whispered back, her tone raspy from the change of tone.

that makes sense, you thought. "and who do you imagine as your other half?"

she shrugged, obviously not wanting to talk about it, but it wasn't a valid answer for you.

"you can tell me" you pleaded. "i won't tell anyone— not haymitch, not even for peeta."

she thought for a moment, a good, long moment. "there's that one girl. do you want to see her?" she leaned in, putting her face next to your ear. "look behind you."

you discreetly turned your head, seeing nothing but a window. it was already late outside and the chandelier lightened up the whole room, so the glass worked like a darkening mirror. you saw nothing but your own reflection.

when you wanted to look back at katniss, her hands were already cupping your cheeks. you didn't have time to react, though you wouldn't stop her anyway. oh, no, you wanted that as much as she did... or more.

✧˖°

#katniss x you #katniss everdeen x reader #katniss x reader #the hunger games katniss #katniss everdeen #thg katniss #reqs open #wlw post #wlw #wlw love #wlw story #oneshot

[storytimewriting]

More Than Fucking

“Fucking” is too vulgar for what we do, But I don’t want to call it making love When I haven’t yet said that to you.

I could pretend it doesn’t affect me But I’m not sure it would be believable When you touch me so intensely.

You treat my body as a temple. You make me want to worship you- The way you have me shake and tremble.

I’ve never considered myself religious, But when I’m on my knees before you My emotions are prodigious.

While it’s too soon to call this what it feels, Just know I’ll never call it fucking- What we do is far too real.

#author #writing #girl things #poetry #poem #original poem #sexy content #sex poem #sex poetry #wlw post #wlw story #wlw #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #wlw love #sapphic #lesbianism #sapphic yearning #lesbians #bisexual #original poetry #my poetry #poetic #poets on tumblr #writers and poets #poems #poems on tumblr #short poetry #dead poets society

[kirislovelygf]

haunted, part 3 (ronal x fem metkayina! reader)

contents: you and ronal have been married for about 14 years and have lived with the metkayina happily ever since you left the forest. now imagine your surprise when your ex appears out of nowhere with the man she cheated on you with and the family they built together.

content also: family angst, ronal and reader being lovey-dovey, lo’ak x tsireya fluff :)))

wrd count: 2.6k

꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

i woke up from the nightmare of that night with a gasp.

i calmed myself down when i felt ronal right next to me. i look down at her head on my chest and hands wrapped around me.

i took slow breaths, staring up at the ceiling where the light of the stars poked through.

“mm..” ronal began muttering as she stirred awake.

she picked up her head, her hair wrapped in a silk covering and bags under her eyes from a tired day.

“are you okay?” she mumbled so badly, i had to hold back a laugh.

“it’s okay, my love. go back to sleep.” i whispered. she sighed and her head dropped back onto my chest, falling asleep not even a second later.

i couldn’t help but stay awake, staring up until morning. i got up once ronal moved away from me, turning for her back to gave me.

i picked myself up and went to sit out by the water.

tiny creatures swam around my feet, their colors contrasting with the coral that sprouted from the sand.

while watching them swim in unison, i heard someone rusting around. the weaving of the hut sounded as someone started walking toward me.

ronal sighed out and took a seat beside me, yawning.

“why are you up so early?” she asked me, putting her head on my shoulder.

i sighed out. “there’s something i need to tell you about neytiri.”

“okay..”

“i didn’t tell you the complete truth about how we know each other. i didn’t want you to be bitter towards her because of what happened between us all those years ago.” i said.

“…okay.”

pray she doesn’t kill me after this.

i sighed out before getting the words out. “neytiri and i were mates when i lived in the forest. we wanted to spend our lives together. until she met jake.”

ronal stayed silent and still as she listened to me.

“she was.. unfaithful. jake spent time with us learning how to be na’vi. and in that time, we became friends. but i started to see that neytiri was falling in love with him more and more by the day.”

“i endured months of her manipulating me into thinking she didn’t love him. then i found out they mated and i ran away. days later, that’s when i found the islands.” i said.

“hm.” she muttered.

i stared ahead at the water because i was afraid to see what her face looked like.

“i’m.. sorry for lying to you. it was a long time ago, and i let it go. i didn’t want you to be angry at her for me. especially since she came here with a family.” i sighed.

ronal picks her head up and i hesitantly look at her.

she’s staring ahead at the water, obviously contemplating on what to say.

“can i ask you..” she muttered.

“mhm.”

“seeing her again, after all this time, did it remind you of old feelings you had for her again?”

“no.”

“are you certain?” she looks at me.

“ronal, i promise i don’t have any feelings for her. neytiri betrayed my trust, but i’ve let go of that pain. and how can i have feelings for her when i’m with you?”

she scoffed and looked away.

“you don’t believe me?” i asked, laughing slightly.

“she’s your first love. it’s okay if-“

“she was the first but you’re the last. i’ll never love anybody again. no after knowing what it’s like to love you.” i smiled.

a smile breaks through her serious frown and she puts her head on my shoulder again.

“i’m sorry she put you through that.” she sighed out.

“it’s okay. now, i’m grateful she did what she did. if jake never came, and she never cheated, i’d be with someone who didn’t truly love me.”

“and you wouldn’t be with me.” she said.

i chuckled and kissed the top of her head, hugging her close.

“and i wouldn’t be with you. that’s a nightmare.” i said softly.

we stayed like this until the sun shined brightly and more na’vi started to wake up and get their day started.

during breakfast, i didn’t see tsireya. i hoped she got some food for resell before leaving the hut so early.

“do you know where your sister went?” i asked ao’nung.

“uh.. no.” he nodded. i look up from the pot of food to watch his expression.

“are you sure?”

“…yes.”

“ao’nung.” i spoke. he sighed and looked up at me.

“are you lying to me?” i asked, not believing he was. he’s never had reason to lie, neither of my kids have.

i’ve never yelled at them or punished them harshly, so they haven’t lied since they were very little kids.

“…yes.”

“..why?” i chuckled.

“cause she asked me not to tell you.”

i shrugged. “okay. well is she safe?”

“yes. she is.” he nodded.

“okay. as long as she gets home safe, i don’t care.” i shrugged.

ronal leaves her room with her hair drawn back. “you don’t care about what?” she asked.

“where tsireya is.”

“….i didn’t give you a daughter just so you wouldn’t care about where she is.” she deadpanned.

i looked up at her hesitantly and she just had a dead stare.

she looks up at ao’nung. “go find your sister.” she ordered.

he finished his breakfast in a couple hills before running out of the hut and diving into the water.

ronal sat down across from me and began eating.

“i’m sor-“

“no.”

“okay.”

we finished breakfast in silence before she gave me a kiss on the cheek and left the hut without even muttering anything,

i left eventually too, going to do some chores around the island. which included harvesting shells to make more clothes.

as i picked up pearlescent shells from the beach, i spotted tsireya and lo’ak seated together on some rocks, on the border of the reef.

they were smiling and talking, tsireya’s blush could be seen all the way from the beach where i was standing.

lo’ak looked like he was telling some exaggerated story, his hands flying all over the place.

i smiled at them before continuing to collect trinkets.

lo’ak’s pov

talking to tsireya is so nice. it’s calming. she’s not much of a talker like me, she’s a listener.

sometimes i feel bad but she assured me she likes hearing me talk. says it's nice. so because of her, i know my siblings hate me and tune me out every time i have something to say.

she told me to come out here to tell me something she heard but. started talking about my mom and then my brother and yeah.

she said it was about my mom and her mom and how they know each other.

“okay, so about our moms.” i said once we were done giggling.

“oh, yeah. tell me.” i shifted my body to face her.

my siblings and her and ao’nung and i, not including tuk, were trying to figure out the relation to my mom and their mom.

it started when y/n left so suddenly when she saw my mom.

since then, we’ve been putting together details to figure out how they know each other.

when we first asked my mom, she told me they “used to be friends” but..

i’m not sure. it might have been more than that.

“so i got up early to feed the ilu today and i heard my moms talking..”

“what did they say?” i asked her.

“i found something out. our moms were more than friends. you were right.” she nodded.

“when am i not. okay, what’d you hear?” i smiled.

“okay, it’s a lot. and it may change how you see your mother. and that isn’t my intention, just know, this is what i heard.” she said.

“it must have been really good if it makes me hate my mother.” i nodded.

she looks at me weird and laughs slightly.

“that’s not.. uh, okay. y/n told ronal that they used to be mates when she lived in the forest. they were in love. until.. your father came and your mother cheated on y/n with him.” she said.

i kept silent listening to her story, she winced a couple times, and i understand. my mom cheating?

that’s a lot to take in. and i don’t like my dad, but now i don’t like him even more cause of this.

i never could have imagined my parents would do something like this.

“when she found out they mated, she left and found the islands and stayed here with ronal. i guess they never reconciled because y/n didn’t ever expect to see neytiri again.” tsireya continued.

“… are you sure this is what you heard?” i asked.

she tilted her head softly. “it’s not that i don’t trust you, i do.” i assured her.

“i understand. but yes, this is what i heard.” she nodded.

“i’m sorry lo’ak.” she said quietly.

“no, don’t apologize. it isn’t your fault. or your mom’s.. it’s my mom and dad who need to apologize.” he nodded.

i thought about all the times i looked up to my parents. whenever i was scared, i thought “dad wouldn’t be scared..”

“mom wouldn’t be scared, so why should i be.”

i stopped thinking when tsireya put her hand on mine.

“i don’t know how to explain to my brother and sister that our parents..” i said.

“you don’t need to. talk to your parents first. listen to what they have to say.” she said to me.

“i will. but..” i look up at her.

“do you think your mom is happy now? with ronal?” i asked.

“from what i’ve seen, yes. they’re very happy together.” she nodded.

“that’s all that matters, right? at least she isn’t bitter after all these years.” i said.

“right..” she nodded.

“anyway..” i jump up and stand, looking at the beach.

“let’s go find some snacks. i’m hungry.” i held out my hand out for her to take and she does.

“where are the best fruits?”

“oh! on this side. come.” i smiled. we dove into the water and went to the island to find fruit to eat.

i could tell this wasn’t how she expected me to react. but i don’t want her to see me breakdown.

it embarrassing, i cry like a baby. i’ve known this girl for a couple months, i’m not going to mess this up.

we walked around the island, collecting fruits, before eating them on the beach. hen sundown came around, neteyam came looking for me and the three of us walked home together.

“oh have you guys found anything out?” he asked as we were walking.

“found anything out about what?” i asked him, acting clueless.

“about mama and tsireya’s mom.” he said, like it was obvious.

“uhh..” i glance at tsireya and she quickly comes up with a lie on the spot.

“no, not today.“ she said. he nods. “it’s ok, we’ll find something out soon.”

tsireya and i look at each other and she smiles at me.

we walked tsireya home and then got phone ourselves.

before we walked in, i asked neteyam to take our sisters somewhere.

“why?”

“i gotta talk to mom and dad.”

“oh.. are you finally coming out?” he winced. he pays my shoulder while i stared at him wide eyed.

“if you need me, i’ll be on the other side of the island. i can’t guarantee dad won’t shoot you and i’m not gonna be around to witness that.” he nodded.

“that’s not funny.” i slapped his hand off as he laughed. it was funny, but i’m not telling him that.

“okay, what’s actually wrong.” he asked.

“it’s something personal. i might tell you later, i don’t know, it depends.” i said.

“okay.” we stepped inside and i waited around for neteyam to get the girls.

they left without question. so, good to know they don’t care.

i looked outside of the hut and watched as they walked farther away.

“are you okay?” dad asked.

“oh, what? yeah. i am. i’m fine.” i said.

he looked at me weird and went to sit next to mom, who was cutting up vegetables next to a fire.

i sat a bit away from them and rubbed my

thighs nervously, thinking about how to bring this up.

they started talking to themselves about something else.

“mom..?” i muttered.

she looks away from dad to me. “hm?”

i sighed out. “i was with tsireya today.” i said.

she nodded and shrugged. “okay..”

“and she told me something today, and i thought i’d talk to you guys.” i continued.

they glance at each other and look back at me, well.. mom does, dad looks down.

“what did she say?” my mom asked.

“she told me something about you and her mom.” i said.

“ronal?” she avoids my eyes. she knows i’m not talking about her.

“no.. y/n. you and y/n. how you two know eachother.”

“i thought i already told you..” she said.

“yeah but.. i think.. i feel like..”

if i don’t spit this out, this is gonna take me hours.

“..you guys didn’t tell me the truth.” i said super carefully. i knew it wasn’t careful enough as dad looked up at me.

“what do you mean lo’ak?” he asked in a low tone.

“did you both know y/n? mom said she and y/n used to be friends but.. dad, did you know her too?” i asked.

they look at each other again and i see mom shake her head slightly.

are they seriously lying again.

“no… no i didn’t.”

“.…are you guys sure?” i asked.

they both look at me, surprised.

“you think i’m lying to you?” mom says angrily.

“lo’ak, what are you trying to tell us?” dad asked me.

i sighed out heavily. i’m never gonna be allowed out of this hut again.

“okay, i’m just gonna tell you. i know you guys are lying. tsireya overheard her moms talking and she found out that you guys weren’t just friends.” i look at my mom.

“you and y/n were together. before you cheated on her with dad.” i said.

they looked at me wide-eyed and scared.

“i wanted to talk to you to see if it was true and you guys lying.. if loved that what tsireya heard was true.” i said.

they kept silent. my mom was terrified. and dad was stuttering, looking for something to say.

“how could you guys do that? y/n is so nice and caring.. how could you break her heart like that?” i asked.

“lo’ak, you-“

i angrily look at my mother.

“i respect you so much mom. i love you guys so much but how could you guys have done something so terrible? you betrayed her trust and that made her run away from her family.”

“she chose to run away.” mom muttered.

i stared at her dumbfounded. “and you chose to cheat on her!” i yelled.

“lo’ak!” dad yelled.

“no, don’t yell at me like.. like i’m the one at fault. how can two people so respected everywhere they go, hide something like this?” i yelled. we were standing now and mom hesitantly stood between us.

“you don’t know what happened all those years ago. you wouldn’t understand, and you don’t need to. you’re just a kid and it’s all in the past-“

“is it? i saw how y/n reacted when she saw you guys for the first time. how badly did you mess up for her to look at you like that?” i said to mom.

she had tears welled up in her eyes and looked for something to say.

“lo’ak-“

i didn’t say anything to them as i walked out of the hut. i didn’t know where else to go, but i knew i didn’t want to be around my parents right now.

so before i knew it, i was standing in front of y/n’s hut, hoping they wouldn’t turn me away.

꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

#writing blog #atwow fluff #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #writers #avatar #wlw writing #kiri sully #atwow angst #ronal avatar the way of water #ronal atwow #ronal x reader #wlw story

[autistic-lesbian69]

if i wrote a wlw story and posted it on here would anyone read it? i’ve wanted to get back into writing for a while but i didn’t know if anyone would actually like to read it

i have a lot of it written already but i haven’t posted any of it, lmk if you would read it:)

#lesbian #lgbtq #queer #lgbt #lgbtqia #sapphic #wlw #wlw story #story #lgbtq story #queer writers

[peachy-panic]

Family Line - Chapter 1

Remember a couple of days ago when I put out a poll asking if anyone would be interested in a whumpy wlw/sapphic story? Well, here is this thing.

Tagging a couple of people that expressed some interest - but let me know if you want to be on an actual tag list (assuming this story goes somewhere :)) @hold-him-down @thecyrulik

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, predatory men, death in the family, fucked up family dynamics, rich people shit

Against her better judgment, Dallas Radley stepped into the elevator. Watching the metal doors slide shut grated on every survival instinct in her body, but taking twenty-seven flights of stairs was out of the question—not that she hadn’t briefly considered it—and the longer she drew this out, the more time she put between herself and a flight home. So she took a breath and did her best to ignore the hair-raising prickle on the back of her neck.

She just wanted to get this over with. More than that, she wanted to have never been involved in the first place. But of course, even in death, her brother succeeded in dragging her down with him. 

“This place is a shit hole.” 

She didn’t need to turn around to sense the sneer in her stepfather’s expression. Dallas flicked her eyes to the side, though, just enough to catch the line of him in her periphery. She rolled her neck, hard enough that a ripple of cracks were audible in the small space, but she didn’t grace him with a response. 

One hell of a shit hole, she thought. The luxury apartment building was a glittering circle jerk of sterile-sleek decor, a doorman in a suit worth more than Dallas’s entire wardrobe, and amenities that no one ever used. And she had only just seen the lobby. But of course, in his eyes, it was beneath her brother’s name, and therefore a disparaging mark on the whole family. 

Dallas had no doubt her mother would have agreed. The two of them were probably duking it out in hell about it that very moment. Really, Jared, they’re going to mention that godforsaken embarrassment of a place in the obituary. What will people think?

Never one for reading the room—or for giving a fuck what the room had to say—Charlie continued. “He could have taken over any one of our properties. I told him a hundred times.”

The problem with the penthouse being on the twenty-eighth floor was that this elevator ride took for-fucking-ever, and she was increasingly doubtful they would both make it out alive. 

“Have you considered,” she said as flatly as she could manage, “that his distance was intentional?”

His answering silence was somehow worse than his speaking. It was the kind of quiet you felt like the tip of a blade at the back of your neck. Still, she resisted the urge to turn around. 

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

She was sure it was just in her head, the way his voice sounded closer. There had been no shuffle of dress shoes on the tiled floor, no warmth at her back, but she could feel it anyway. 

Don’t turn around. Don’t give him that. 

The elevator bell broke whatever seal that had vacuumed the air from her lungs. She pulled in a breath, forcing her legs into unrushed, even strides through the open door. The clinking of metal on her boots followed her down the short hallway, making it easier to ignore the soft pad of dress shoes trailing behind her. 

Jared’s apartment was hard to miss; it was the only entrance on the floor. Dallas reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, fingers closing around the key card the building manager had given her. Despite the rush to get this done, she couldn’t help but pause. She had never seen Jared’s home. She hadn’t spoken to her brother in years, and it was even longer since she’d seen him in person. She didn’t let thoughts of her family bother her anymore—at least that’s what she told herself—but there was a haunted feeling in seeing the place he lived for the first time once he was already dead. 

No point in stalling, though. Before Charlie could come to a stop behind her, Dallas swiped the key in front of the sensor and pushed inside. 

Jared’s apartment was, unsurprisingly, massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows made up three out of the four walls, with a spiral staircase near the center leading up to a lofted space. The only real blessing was the bare-bones approach to minimalist decor. The place looked barely lived in, like the museum of a home rather than someone’s actual apartment, but that would prove helpful in the unloading process. The less time she had to spend in the same room with Jared’s father, going through her dead brother’s shit, the better. 

Charlie wasn’t even supposed to be a part of this. The only reason Dallas bothered flying home in the first place was because she was almost certain that Charlie wouldn’t. He had been overseas on a business trip when the hospital called him, and had so graciously passed along Dallas’s contact information. (She still didn’t know how he got it in the first place, but she made a mental note to change her number the second she landed in Vancouver). Jared was dead before Dallas even got to the airport, and Charlie had surprised her by showing up at the funeral. 

Sure, in a perfect world, it wouldn’t be surprising for a father to show up to his only child’s funeral. But the world was a far stretch from perfect, and her family was even further. 

And now, despite not helping with any of the arrangements—the cremation, the ceremony cost or the planning—he insisted on helping manage Jared’s estate. Dallas shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“It shouldn’t take long,” Charlie commented with the air of someone who knew what the fuck they were talking about. “I can have Miguel arrange the transport of the large furniture pieces tomorrow morning. We’ll take it to the upstate property. It can go in the guest house.”

“What about the furniture that’s already there?” she asked, running her fingertips over a cashmere throw blanket on the back of the couch. 

Charlie shrugged. “We’ll throw it out. It’s a few years old, anyway.”

It really should have been none of her business. She shouldn’t waste her time engaging in conversation that wasn’t entirely necessary, but she couldn’t help herself. 

“There’s a donation center twenty minutes away. They do their own pickup.”

He wrinkled his nose in a way she really should have seen coming. “So a twenty-five thousand dollar sectional can go to a secondhand store? Seems a bit of a waste.”

She didn’t bother pointing out the hypocrisy. Instead, she rolled her eyes and made her way toward the spiral staircase to check out the bedroom. As she stepped off the last stair, her feet skidded to a halt beneath her, nearly knocking her back down. She grabbed onto the railing to balance herself. 

“Holy shit,” she yelped. Because there was a person curled up in the center of Jared’s king size bed. The woman had her back to the doorway, long, red hair strewn behind her like a flood of fire. Her form was still and silent, the only indication of life in the steady rise and fall of her ribs. 

“What is it?” Charlie trailed up behind her a few seconds later, more curious than concerned. He came to a stop by her side, taking in the discovery for himself. “Oh.”

Dallas blinked, calling on a distant memory. A piece of mail. A wedding invitation. A flash of bright red hair in a photo with her brother, looking up at her from the trash can before the lid dropped shut.

“Jessica?” she said.

“No,” Charlie said. “Jessica died. Three years ago. I’m glad to see that the therapy I paid for went to good use. He clearly found some… uncreative coping mechanisms.” With more force than necessary, he tapped the leg of the bed with his shoe, jolting the girl. “Alright, sweetheart. Time to get up. Free stay is over.”

The girl startled awake, the line of tension in her back pulling taut like a puppet in strings. She scrambled up and onto her knees, and when she turned to face them, a stunned silence fell over the room. Dallas’s eyes narrowed in on the thin, metal band around her neck.

This girl in her dead brother’s bed was a Companion.

His Companion.

“Jesus, Jared.” The breathy sound Charlie made could only be described as bemused, and it set Dallas’s blood on fire. “That makes more sense, I suppose.”

The girl didn’t say a word, but the panic emanated from her like heat from a furnace. Her eyes—a preternatural green behind copper lashes—were wide and terrified, rimmed in red and puffy from crying. She was wearing one of Jared’s oversized Cornell tees, which draped to the tops of her thighs. 

“It’s okay,” Dallas said without really knowing why. She supposed she just wanted to say something—anything—that might take some of the fear out of her expression. “You’re okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”

The girl’s eyes snapped to her when she spoke, but they retreated back to Charlie as she parted her lips, opening and closing them twice before pressing them tightly together.

“Hey,” Dallas said, pulling her focus back to her. It made her stomach turn to say the words, but this was far from the first time Dallas interacted with someone in the system. Unfortunately, she knew how this worked.  “It’s alright,” she said. “You can say whatever you want to say.”

She hesitated another couple of seconds before she softly cleared her throat. “You… Jared? You know Jared?” Her voice had a rough, raw edge to it, as if she hadn’t spoken in days. 

“He’s my brother.” Dallas caught herself, grinding her teeth. Was my brother, she corrected internally. 

“He…” The girl blinked, dazed. “He didn’t come home. He hasn’t… he didn’t…”

“You didn’t call the police?” Charlie snapped. “Or anyone?”

The girl shrank back from his tone. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He doesn’t allow—I… I don’t have a phone. I’m not allowed to leave without him.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dallas said quickly, stepping between her and Charlie. She shot him a glare he didn’t seem to notice. “But there is something I need to tell you. About Jared.”

****

Dallas sat on the couch across from the red-haired stranger, the quiet heavy between them. The only sound was the faint carry of Charlie’s voice from the loft as he spoke with whatever fucking WRU representative he had on speed dial. 

He hadn’t seemed surprised, exactly, to discover an enslaved woman in Jared’s apartment, but he didn’t clearly hadn’t known about it in advance. In all likelihood, he was probably a little bit proud.  And Dallas… Well, it was hard to be disappointed in someone for whom your expectations were already below ground level, but some part of her had wanted to hope for more from her brother. They had grown up around Companion workers—in their home, in their parents’ company—and they knew how fucked up the system was. Even if he never admitted as much out loud. 

Dallas had been involved in the anti-contract system as a teenager. Never as much as she wanted; a protest here or there, a few letters to congressmen and reposts on social media. She had tried to get a little more into it in college. But since graduating, work kept her busy. And, as ashamed as she was to admit it, moving to Canada had been something of a mute switch for her. The system had been outlawed there for more than a decade, and it was easy to become complacent in a place like that. To pretend it wasn’t happening at all just because it was no longer happening in your own backyard. 

This… made her reevaluate that inaction. 

The girl was curled into herself, her arms wrapped around her legs in the corner of the sofa. Dallas had found a pair of joggers in Jared’s closet and shed her own leather jacket for her to wear. That particular pairing looked a little strange, but it was better than having her sit half-naked in the living room. In front of Charlie. 

“Are you hungry?” Dallas asked, unsure of how to fill the silence. It had been years since she was in the same room as a contracted Companion, but it filled her bloodstream with the same uneasy buzz as she remembered. 

She looked up at her, blinking her red, puffy eyes. The answer was apparent in her silence. 

“Have you eaten?” Dallas tried carefully. “Since Jared’s been away?”

Her pale fingers tightened in the fabric around her knees. “No, Miss Radley.”

“Dallas, please,” she corrected gently. “Or Dal. Let’s find you something to eat, yeah?”

The girl unfolded herself and trailed softly behind her to the kitchen. She swayed on her feet, leaning one hip subtly against the counter as Dallas scoured the pantry for something more than olive oil and seasoning. She could see her brother never quite got over his tendency to order out for every meal, but at least she was able to scrounge up some bread and peanut butter for a sandwich.

“Am I going to be taken back to the facility?” The question from behind her was so meek, Dallas almost didn’t hear it. 

She set the butterknife she had found slowly down on the counter, turning to face her. “I…” She swallowed. “I’m not sure what the plan is right now.”

At that moment, Charlie’s footfalls descended on the stairs. The girl’s posture went rigid. 

“Well,” he said, walking over to join them in the open kitchen. “This certainly makes things more interesting.” He spared a glance to the girl, then turned his attention back to Dallas as if she wasn’t in the room at all. “Apparently he has been contracting this girl on a rolling basis for the past two-and-a-half years. They’re only three months into the current six month term.”

The girl’s eyes had found a spot on the countertop and hadn’t deviated since Charlie entered the kitchen. Dallas eyed her dubiously, the sense of dread crawling higher in her throat. 

“What is their policy for this kind of circumstance?” Dallas asked.

“They have a couple of options. The first is a mortality clause, where fifty percent of the remaining contract fee can be recouped to the Keeper’s family upon early termination. The second is a transfer of title on her contract for the remaining duration. It only applies to legal or blood relatives and spouses, unless someone else is named in the initial contract. In Jared’s case, there was not.”

And there was the peak of the dread. 

Their options were to return this girl to the nearest WRU facility to be abused and assaulted and repurposed for a new sick fuck to take her home, or for one of them to claim her for themselves like a piece of expensive art in someone’s will. 

Charlie leveled his charming grin in Dallas’s direction. “I don’t suppose there’s any purpose in asking if your views on the system have changed since last we spoke?”

“Fat fucking chance,” she said. He laughed like she’d said something funny, then trailed his gaze back to the girl, who curled even further into herself. 

“What’s your designation, sweetheart?” 

Dallas tensed at the prospect of him speaking to her directly, but the girl answered smoothly and immediately. 

“Domestic, sir.”

“And how old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

That may or may not have been bullshit. WRU was known for not being entirely truthful when it came to the matter of age—in either direction, depending on the type of Keeper they were trying to appeal to. 

“Have you been in the system a long time?”

There was the slightest pause before she answered this time. “Since I was nineteen,” she said quietly. Dallas’s fingers squeezed down around the handle of the butter knife.

“Hm.” Charlie pushed back from the counter, nodding decisively. “That could work out. Molly’s contract is up in a month, and I wasn’t planning to renew anyway.” He was no longer addressing her directly. “Some overlap could be good. She could show her the ropes. Okay. Yeah. I’ll have Miguel handle the paperwork.”

What happened next was never the plan. Was never even the realm of possibility until she suddenly felt her mouth moving without her permission and heard the words in her voice as if spoken by a stranger. 

“I’ll take over her contract.”

Both sets of eyes turned to her, one full of apprehension, the other full of delighted surprise. 

“Oh, will you, now?” Charlie lifted an eyebrow, and Dallas swallowed back the urge to fling the butter knife into his jugular.

Instead, she fixed her eyes on his, refusing to back down. “Are you going to fight me on it?”

He held her gaze for a few long seconds, and she was prepared for the likelihood that the answer was yes. It wouldn’t be a hard-won fight, and they both knew it. He was a wealthy, respected regular customer of WRU’s services, and she was an outspoken protestor who lived outside of the legal zone. 

But then he broke with a chuckle. “Of course not,” he said. “I’ll even help you with the logistics, if you want. It can be a bit of a headache the first time around.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“If you insist.” He raised his hands, backing off. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Let me know if you need any help jumping off a fucking cliff, asshole.

As Charlie walked toward the staircase again, Dallas turned to the woman who would soon become her legal—if temporary—property, desperate to explain herself. But before she could, Charlie called out to her from across the room. 

“Dal?” He smiled, his white teeth showing in a viscous smile. “Your mother would be proud.”

#bbu #like bbu adjacent? #Family Line: Dallas & Dylan #whump #whump writing #lady whump #wlw writing #wlw story #sapphic story

[kyli-howard]

The Woman and Her Garden of Statues [A Short Story]

There were many names for the woman in the town nearby.

They would be whispered between friends during coffee. Or shared between families at storytime. Or scribbled on the wall of a public bathroom.

The woman in the mansion. The lonely woman on the hill. The woman who hid from the world.

She had become a folktale for the town, but no one truly knew her name. Or maybe they just never said it.

No one ever saw her, but they all shared this understanding.

She was painfully beautiful. Long hair that was soft to the touch and flowed perfectly in the wind. Kind eyes that held small secrets. A perfect mix of mysterious and inviting. Her skin was flawless. It would feel like silk if touched.

She was everyone's fantasy.

The definition of perfection that could haunt the vision of men and women alike. So many had sworn that they had seen her in their dreams. That she reached out to them, looking for the company that she had been closed off from for so long.

Curiosity was a natural part of living in this small town.

Wondering what sat in the large house at the top of the hill. Behind the iron gate, what would be found? Why would one woman stay there alone by choice? What could one woman do to make such a large home feel less empty?

Lyla was much like the people around her.

She wondered about the woman on the hill.

However, she never wondered why the woman wanted to be alone. She only wondered about how that life has treated her. Was she happy? Was she miserable? Was it lonely?

The questions seemed to circle Lyla's mind whenever she was just on the verge of sleep, tempting her to stay up until the early hours of the morning and come up with theories about how living that way could feel.

One night, everything changed.

The questions had gone beyond the verge of Lyla's tired mind.

Lyla had fallen asleep on her couch, not getting the chance to entertain her thoughts of the woman on the hill.

Her dreams had to pay the price for that crime.

Lyla found herself walking through the doorway of a mansion. She was looking for something, she knew it. She could feel the pulling in her chest and the slight tingle at the end of her fingers. Her body knew better than her mind.

She looked around the room.

Beautiful building. Wood floors and light walls. A staircase reached up near the front door. Gorgeous art lined the walls. Plants and statues took up many of the empty spaces. The light fixtures alone probably cost more than Lyla's car. If this was just the entrance, the rest of the house must have looked like a museum.

Lyla let out a breath. What was she trying to find?

Like answering the question that Lyla had yet to ask, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall upstairs.

"There you are," Lyla looked at the staircase. The air was nearly knocked from her lungs.

She had never seen the woman on the hill before, but she knew in her heart that this was her. Or how Lyla's brain saw her.

Long brown hair and kind brown eyes. A lovely dress that looked like it had been designed for her. Absolutely beautiful.

"Come on," the woman grabbed Lyla's hand and started pulling her through the house.

Why was Lyla here?

"I have some more books for you."

Lyla looked down at the book that she hadn't noticed sitting in her hand.

Yeah, that was right. She had been here to pick up some books.

The pair had made it to the study soon after.

Lyla stood in the doorway to the room, taking a moment to admire it.

A desk was made of dark wood, designed to match the bookshelves that covered almost every part of the walls. The chair at that desk had an emerald cushion with gold details, much like the couch that sat on the free part of the wall and the window seat that was behind the desk. Two more similar chairs sat by a small round table. Perfectly comfortable. Lyla could imagine spending her afternoons here with a book.

The woman had walked ahead of Lyla. She instead grabbed the sliding ladder and climbed up to one of the top shelves. So much grace that if Lyla hadn't seen the ladder, she would think that the woman had floated up.

The woman's hand grasped around a leather-bound book. It had been worn, the silver lettering on the spine had since been mostly scraped off and you could see the marks in the leather from where the book had been dropped or scratched.

Lyla watched the woman come down to meet her with a smile.

"Here it is," she said happily, holding it out to Lyla. Lyla traded books with her.

She gently opened the cover of the new book as the woman moved the ladder so she could put away the book that Lyla had brought back.

Lyla's finger traced the edge of the page as she studied the aged paper.

"Would you like something to drink," the woman asked, going to walk past Lyla.

"Umm," Lyla's brain felt foggy immediately. "I... I'm okay."

"Are you sure," the woman's eyebrows furrowed as she stepped toward Lyla.

Lyla nodded.

There was a tense moment. The woman stood in the doorway. Her gaze at Lyla shifted slightly. Lyla nodded but stepped back.

The woman stepped forward so she could reach out and touch Lyla's hand. Lyla looked down at where their fingers brushed against each other.

As she looked back up, the woman moved closer. Lyla couldn't figure out why she hadn't stepped back. She just didn't want to. Something deep within her chest told her that standing here was the right thing to do.

The woman leaned forward a few more inches. Lyla allowed her eyes to flutter shut.

However, as soon as her eyes shut, Lyla shot up on the couch.

She looked around her living room. The same old couch and coffee table. No gorgeous study with an endless selection of books.

She looked at her clock. It was almost three in the morning.

Lyla reached up and gently touched her lips. She could still feel the woman's breath on them. The idea made a shiver run up Lyla's spine. It was haunting.

That was the day that Lyla knew she could just sit in her room with her running line of questions. She needed to find real answers.

She got out of bed and showered. She pulled on some dark jeans and a slightly faded white shirt. Finally, she pulled on her black boots and a black jacket.

Soon, Lyla found herself in her small, arguably beat-up car, driving up the road that led out of town and into a forest.

She was quick to realize why people very rarely visited the mansion. If she hadn't been looking for it, she would have missed the dirt road leading to it completely.

Each bump in the road made Lyla hold onto her steering wheel a little bit harder. All she could do was hope that she wouldn't end up crashing into a tree. She wasn't a bad driver, but this road was truly dangerous to drive on.

A sense of relief flooded Lyla as the road left the trees and found a clearing.

She could now see the mansion that she had heard so many stories about. It was gorgeous. White stone walls with dark details. An iron gate was part of the large wall surrounding the property.

Mansion didn't feel like a proper way to describe it. It was a few steps away from being a full-blown castle.

Lyla drove up to the gate. She put the car in park just a car's length or so away from the gate.

Her black boots did little to mask her steps as she hesitantly approached the gate. The dirt shifted under each step, sounding like thunder compared to the silence around her.

She reached out for the iron gate, hesitantly wrapping her hand around one of the bars. With a deep breath, Lyla pushed on the bar, shocked to find it unlocked.

The gate made a loud squeak as Lyla pushed it. She decided that anyone who was there was aware of her, so stopping now wouldn't help her in the long run.

Once both sides of the gate were open, Lyla returned to her car. She slowly rolled forward into the driveway. She looked up at the building.

"Wow," she muttered, pressing on the brakes before putting her car into park and taking the keys out of the ignition.

The driveway had changed from just dirt to a layer of gravel. Each rock sounded like a falling bolder as Lyla got out of her car.

She took a moment to look around and admire the garden that was between the house and the wall. She hadn't noticed how far she had truly parked from the house.

The lawn had a variety of statues throughout it.

One was a man with a rake, back hunched over slightly. There was a hat resting on his head and a small grin.

Another was a woman by a line of hedges. She had a bandana tying her hair back while she held the hedge clippers open. There were a few stray branches that had latched onto the statue's arms.

The centerpiece of the yard was more beautiful than anything else.

It was a party. A picnic with all sorts of guests. They were all by some gazebo.

Adults with drinks in their hands. All talking and being friendly.

Children on the ground playing with a ball or wrestling.

There was even a dog by the steps to the gazebo, posed mid-bark.

There was so much detail to all of the statues that it looked like a photograph. A moment that had just been frozen in time. Wrinkles on the faces, veins on some of the hands, and the clothes looked like they were paper thin.

The artist was probably renowned for their work. It was better than anything Lyla had ever seen.

She stared at all of the statues as she walked over to the house. Lyla never thought that she was going to find herself in a Disney fairytale, but now she was thinking that she had stumbled into the newest live-action remake.

Her gaze only left the garden and the statues when she had to walk up the stone steps to the large wooden door.

It felt familiar.

Just like her dream.

There was another pair of statues in front of the house. A man and a woman smiling at each other. The woman's hands were resting on the man's jacket. The man's hands were resting on the woman's back. It was so easy to see the love on both of their faces. So clear. So simple.

She took a moment to look at the door. Golden details on dark wood. It made her smile. So beautiful.

She reached a hand up and grabbed one of the golden knockers. It was heavy and as it hit the door, Lyla flinched slightly. It was so loud that it sounded like she threw a large rock at it.

She let out a sigh and stepped back.

There was a minute of silence.

Just as she went to take a step back and admit defeat, there was a loud creak from the door's hinges.

"Hello," a soft voice called out.

Lyla turned around to face whoever had spoken.

It was her. The woman. The one that people had told stories about. The one that haunted the dreams of many. The dreams of Lyla.

She was just as beautiful as Lyla had been told.

The woman was wearing a white dress that puffed out from her waist to her knees. The sleeves were long and slightly see-through. Her hair was long and dark brown. Her eyes were a dark brown; black holes falling into the pupils. Gorgeous.

"Hello," Lyla responded quietly, studying the woman in front of her.

"Can I help you," the woman asked, voice sweet and smooth like a gentle melody.

"Umm, I- uh," she forgot any reason she had for showing up. She had to come up with something. Quickly. "I'm writing an article about you."

"Oh?"

That was stupid, Lyla thought. Why the hell would you say that?

"Yeah," Lyla said, nodding once. "It would just be about your life. Your history and story. Why you love this house so much. That kind of thing. All kind. If you're comfortable with that?"

The woman leaned on the door and frowned, deep in thought. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she weighed the pros and cons of letting Lyla in.

"You wouldn't share anything that I ask you not to," she asked.

Lyla nodded, "Of course."

The woman let her face relax as a small grin returned to her lips.

Lyla mimicked the woman's smile.

"Come on," the woman stepped back, welcoming Lyla inside. "I'll make us some tea and we can talk."

Lyla nodded and followed the woman inside.

The inside of the house was almost more beautiful than the garden outside.

There were beautiful hardwood floors that matched the shelving. There were deep green walls with paintings all along them. There was a rug on the floor that was a similar green with golden details.

There were more statues too.

There was one right by the door. A man holding out a bouquet. He was dressed sharply. There was a look on his face that looked purely like puppy love. Lyla wondered how someone could show so much emotion in a cut of stone.

She followed the woman through the entrance toward the back of the house. The hardwood flooring turned into white tiles. There was a pair of statues just outside the doorway to the kitchen. They were two girls, excitedly chatting about something. Each detail was clearly defined in their faces. Their clothes looked soft, even though they were carved from stone.

The kitchen looked like a museum.

The white tiles met pale yellow walls and white cabinets. The counters were all marble. The seats were dark wood. The light above the dining table covered everything in a wave of golden light.

There was a statue in the corner of some kind of chef with a baking tray of cookies. Lyla could've sworn that the chocolate chips were melted.

She took a seat on the other side of the island as the woman walked to another counter.

Lyla took out her phone so she could pretend to be writing notes. She had made up a ridiculous story, and she would be damned if she didn't commit to it.

The woman placed the kettle on the stove before grabbing two mugs from one of the cabinets.

"I should start by asking your name," Lyla said as the woman placed two tea bags in their respective mugs.

"Ella," the woman replied, turning her attention to purely focus on Lyla.

Lyla typed the name down. It was a fitting name. Like royalty.

"Do I get to know yours?"

Lyla nodded. There was this pause where her brain didn't seem to catch up with what her body had done.

Once she realized that she had nodded and not answered, she quickly stammered out an answer, "Lyla."

"Nice to meet you, Lyla," Ella grinned.

Something about how she said Lyla's name made Lyla's heart jump a bit. Like she was suddenly realizing that she was actually in the house and this interaction was in fact real.

"What questions do you have," she asked, pulling Lyla from her thoughts yet again.

"Right, right, my questions," Lyla muttered, looking down at her phone like she had them written down somewhere. By the time she had collected her thoughts, Ella was pouring water into the mugs. "Who else lives here? Or are you on your own?"

"Oh, it's just me," Ella replied. "But I have company."

Ella's hand motioned to the statue in the corner.

"I'm never lonely."

"They're beautiful," Lyla complimented. "Almost life-like."

Ella simply hummed, placing a mug in front of Lyla. "I didn't ask how you like your tea-"

"This is fine, thank you," Lyla waved it off.

In all honesty, she had never had tea before. It had simply never appealed to her. She was much happier with her too-sweet coffee and occasional energy drink. And now, as she sipped the tea and fought the urge to scrunch her face up at the taste, she assumes her disinterest was the universe protecting her.

"How long have you been here," Lyla asked.

"As long as I can remember," Ella shrugged.

"So, you inherited it?"

"Something like that."

Lyla paused for a moment. She wondered if she should push more at that answer. She decided against it. She had no desire to pick at a scab that wasn't her own.

Ella tilted her head at Lyla's pause. She took the moment to scan Lyla's features and grin to herself. The chances of someone as intriguing as Lyla showing up on her doorstep were so low that Ella felt the need to study her.

"How do you keep yourself busy," Lyla finally spoke up again. "I know you said you're never lonely, but you must have things that keep you occupied. Hobbies and such."

Ella nodded along with Lyla's statement. "I do a lot of art. A lot of dancing. Mostly reading. I will sometimes spend a whole day curled up in a chair with a good book. We all need an escape."

"What do you like to read?"

"Oh, anything that's interesting," Ella chuckled. "Actually, I just got done with something- let me go get it, I'm sure you'll love it."

Lyla tried to speak up as Ella left the room, "No, no, you don't have to- and she's gone."

Lyla sighed and laughed a little to herself. There was something comforting about seeing someone who had long been a mystery doing something that was so... regular.

When Ella came back, there was a book in her hands. She dragged a finger along the edge of a page she was reading. The smile on her face could stop the heart of any great artist. Nothing they could make would ever compare to the beauty of that smile.

She placed the book on the counter in front of Lyla. "Take it with you when you go."

Lyla was quick to refuse. "I... I can't do that-"

"Nonsense," Ella replied.

"It's your book. You just met me. I am not going to just steal it."

"I'll make you a deal," Ella offered. "Bring me back a book from your shelf. A fair trade."

Lyla paused for a moment, trying to force her mind to comprehend that she had just been invited back to the house after this visit. This woman knew nothing about Lyla. Well, the same could be said about Lyla not knowing Ella.

With a deep breath, she reached out and grabbed the book.

"You have a deal," Lyla decided.

"Good," Ella grinned.

The rest of the interview could be seen in two ways.

There was Lyla's point of view. The point of view that saw the entire visit as the equivalent of a dumpster fire. She stuttered over almost every word. Any time she made eye contact with Ella, all sense left her. She was left looking like a stunned fish until she come back to her senses and rambled out another question that she would make up on the spot.

Then, there was Ella's point of view. The point of view that saw nothing wrong with the event. She hadn't felt nervous around a person for a long time before Lyla found her doorstep. It was almost refreshing to know that such butterflies could still swarm her stomach. If the questions were fake, she never would have guessed. And that wasn't because Lyla was some great actress. It was just because Ella was entirely too distracted.

It felt like an eternity before Lyla finally put herself out of her misery for the day. "I should really get going."

"You'll be back, right," Ella asked, watching the other woman stand from her seat.

"Yes, absolutely," Lyla replied, probably too quickly. "I- I still owe you that book."

Ella nodded. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Lyla decided that she could get away with calling in sick the next day. "Sure."

Ella's smile warmed a part of Lyla's heart that she didn't even know existed.

Ella led the way back to the front door, wishing Lyla safe travels before closing the front door.

Lyla held in all signs of emotion until she made it to her car. She didn't want to risk being spotted acting like anything short of somewhat normal.

When she sat in her driver's seat, a heavy breath escaped her. As if the back of the seat had hit her with enough force to shove the sigh out.

Her eyes fell to the large house again. "Holy shit."

Lyla did come back the next day, a book under her arm.

And she would continue coming back for ages after that. Day after day. Short trips began to span hours of time. There were some days when it felt like she never left.

The two began trading books and stories, just like Lyla's dream had foretold. Lyla would often bring newer books. More modern stories. Ella had a deep love for the classics, often pulling books from her father's collection to offer to Lyla. They had formed a perfect two-person book club.

Lyla was learning more about the woman on the hill than she ever began to imagine. Instead of just history, she knew her favorite foods and drinks and books. She knew about some of the friends that Ella had watched come and go from her life. She knew what Ella had dreamed about when she was little. She knew about Ella's habit to wish on the first star of the evening, which she always seemed able to spot.

It was the best period of Lyla's life. This connection that never once felt forced. It all was so genuine and lovely. Nothing short of perfect in her eyes. After seeing so many friends and family go from her life, she expected to be more hesitant when it came to trusting that people wouldn't leave. With Ella, that trust felt like no question. No major task.

She wasn't alone in this perspective.

Ella's mind had long since decided that she was living her version of a fairytale. Lyla was her knight in shining armor of sorts. Instead of saving her from a dragon or an evil stepmother, she was saving her from her own loneliness. After all, how could one person find true happiness when their only company was that of statues surrounding the house?

Ella knew that she needed to hold onto Lyla. To what Lyla offered her. She couldn't risk losing something that had become as essential to her as breathing.

Her mind was made up while sharing a morning with Lyla in her father's old study.

She had gone far out of her way to keep the area from gathering any dust. She wanted it to be perfect for Lyla and her to enjoy. The deep green fabric was carefully cleaned, the book perfectly organized, the windows were made spotless. It was like the room of a dollhouse. Perfectly preserved to the point that it almost seemed fact. Plastic.

Lyla wouldn't have noticed the mess if there had been one. She was too focused on Ella walking around the room as if she were floating just above the floor.

On that day, Ella had gone out of her way to look especially nice. It was an important day. It required one to dress the part.

Lyla wished that she had tried harder to match Ella's carefully constructed outfit. Ella's fancy dress was facing Lyla's ripped jeans and old shirt that she had placed a jacket over to cover up the garment's age.

Lyla was in the middle of trying to silence her self-conscious thoughts while Ella was running her finger along the spine of the books on one of the shelves. She wanted to choose the perfect story for Lyla to have.

Lyla had never seen her so deep in thought. Her eyebrows furrowed together, almost looking like she was accusing each book of something as she considered them.

It felt like ages before Ella finally pulled herself away from the books, one with a dark cover held in her hand. She flicked through the pages, trying to spark memories of how she had felt while reading that very book.

She nodded before holding it out to Lyla. "I think you'll adore this one."

Lyla accepted it, flicking it through the pages. She caught the sight of a few names. A few lines that stuck out before even knowing their context. She nodded back. It wasn't as if Ella had ever steered her wrong before.

"I'm sure it will be amazing," Lyla smiled a little wider as she complimented it.

Her book had already been offered. It was sitting on her father's desk.

"Thank you," she added.

Ella smiled. There was comfort in seeing Lyla's smile as she looked at a new book. She needed to hold onto this feeling for the rest of her life. The warmth spreading through her chest. The nervous butterflies that twirled around her stomach. The way her face would heat up whenever they spoke.

She took a deep breath, her decision getting locked in her mind.

A truly unstoppable force.

"I feel like I should thank you," Ella said softly. "You've been so kind to me. Spending time with me, listening to me."

Lyla looked down for a moment. "Everyone deserves to be listened to. We all have a story to tell."

Ella nodded. "You have made me feel more accepted and cared about than I have been in a long time."

A silence fell over the pair. Both of them silently studied the other. How each of them stood, the beautiful parts of each of them, the flaws that have taken on such a perfect experience. Eyes and lips and hair were all perfectly arranged. Like they were each studying a piece of art in a gallery.

Ella slowly stepped forward. When Lyla didn't step away, Ella let her smile grow and continued moving forward. The two of them were now close enough to feel the heat and nervous energy radiating off of each other.

Ella reached out and took the book from Lyla's fingertips, tossing it to one of the armchairs so it didn't hinder the moment.

Lyla felt her breath pick up as Ella's lips barely brush against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, fully letting Ella take the lead.

Ella did.

She pressed her lips to Lyla's gently. Each movement calculated. Each moment falling perfectly into place. Lyla was entranced at the feeling of their lips brushing together. Everything that she could've ever wanted.

Ella's lips were intoxicating, Lyla decided. Soft and careful. Better than coffee in the morning or the sunrise or the sunset. No brilliant view, no good thing could be better than the feeling of Ella kissing her.

Lyla decided that she could spend her entire life like this. She would do so happily if Ella asked. As long as it meant that Ella never stopped kissing her. That's all she would require.

She mumbled out Ella's name, though she didn't know what she had been asking for.

Ella didn't respond or pull away. Instead, she grabbed Lyla's hands and guided them up to hold the sides of Ella's face. Lyla was happy to listen to her. To listen to her beautiful woman in the house on the hill. The girl with her garden of statues.

Ella pulled away slowly, taking a step away from Lyla. Lyla's lips were sitting open, trying to catch her breath through her dazed state. She had never imagined that a kiss could be that way. But she liked it. She really, really liked it.

She tried to voice something. Her feelings, asking her for another kiss, anything. But no words came out.

And her arms wouldn't move.

And her mouth wouldn't close.

And she couldn't blink.

Lyla felt something on her leg. Something slowly crawling up. Not just crawling up her skin, but actually moving in her blood. In her bones.

"Perfect," Ella said. "Don't worry, my dear. It'll all be okay. You won't have to worry about anything."

A small noise escaped Lyla's mouth. But that was it. Ella reached forward and touched her cheek.

"I love you," she continued. "Just like I loved everyone here. I had to preserve them. Keep them safe. I couldn't let the world take you away from me."

Another kiss touched Lyla's palm. But Lyla couldn't feel it. She finally could see what was happening. Gray was crawling down the length of her arm. In her heart, she knew what it was. Stone. She was turning to stone.

"My beautiful girl," Ella smiled. She truly thought this was an act of kindness. Protection. "You'll be so happy here. And I'll get to see you every day. My girl. Now, you can't leave me."

Lyla wanted to cry, but her eyes wouldn't produce any tears.

"I love you," Ella repeated, touching the side of Lyla's face. "I'll come back to see you soon. I'll read you a lovely story."

She walked out of the room a few moments later. At that point, the stone had reached every part of Lyla's body. A perfect, permanent fixture created out of skin and bone.

Ella ran through the house, down the hall, down the stairs, and out to the entrance of the house. Her smile only grew at the sight of her favorite statues. The man and the woman adjusting his jacket.

Ella almost bounced over to them.

"Mom, Dad, I found someone," she explained quickly, a wide smile taking up most of her face. "Oh, you would love her. She's so sweet and smart. She'll fit in perfectly here. And I get to keep her safe. Just like I kept you safe."

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to the cheek of each statue.

"I love you both," she said before standing up and running out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Ella spent her day twirling and dancing with her friends and family, perfectly at peace within the safety of her garden's gates.

A small little world that was perfect for the woman and her garden of statues.

#romance #magic #love #wlw #lgbtq #art #writing #writer #short story #story #original story #writers #aspiring writer #not a happy ending #wlw story #wlw post #sapphic stories

[out-of-luck-and-minorly-stuck]

Half Alive || Elinor Fairmont x OC

fem!Original Character x elinor fairmont [Alternate Universe]

There was once a girl who lived. A peasant, if you will, or so she thought she was. No one knew her parents, even her. But someone was nice enough to offer her a place to stay, a place that she could call her home. And ever since she was a kid, she had lived there and was given the name "Amelia".

Her life was normal, in the beginning. But as she turned fifteen, she had been getting some weird nightmares about this demonic-looking creature, a creature that's thirsty for blood and horror. She haven't slept for days, and days went weeks, and eventually, weeks went to months. She could take dreamless naps, but that's just it.

Tired, on her 19th birthday, she decided to go to the woods. Something had caught her eye that night. There was a womanly figure. It was dark, quiet. Which made things even worse. Her eyes stared at the figure, confused.

"Who are you?" She shakingly said.

"Oh, my dearest, Amelia. I’ve been waiting for you." the unknown woman said. She could hear a smirk in the voice behind that dark shadow.

"W-What?" A hind of confusion was evident on her voice.

"Your father betrayed me. I did what I had to do. And now, I’m going to do the same to you" Then the woman laughed wickedly at the shaken girl.

"I-I don't even know my own father! Who are you?!"

“A monster, as some of you, mortals would like to call it" She answered, slowly revealing herself under the moonlight, making her visible. She had this wicked grin on her face.

Amelia’s eyes widen in horror as she realized who the blonde woman was. It was one of the creature in her dream. Fangs, Claws, Superhuman Strength, what else?!

"Y-You're the creature in my dreams! Ple-please don't hurt me"

"That depends, my darling. What benefit would that give me? What can you offer, darling?"

The girl’s breath hitched, daring to think of a good answer that can potentially help her survive this. A slight pause surfaced between her and the womanly creature, her waiting for your answer.

"My loyalty..." the girl whispered, hoping it would be enough.

"Hmmm... I see. What else?" The woman smirked.

"You can do whatever you want with me, as long as I can live!" The girl cried out desperately, whimpering on her knees.

The woman hummed, surprised by the girl’s scared uttered words. Her brows raised, smirking in confusion.

"I'm surprised… You still haven't attacked me with your freaky powers yet" Her words stuck Amelie like a bold of lightning, leaving her with a grim, but perplexed look on your face.

"My pow- what?"

"Oh, babygirl. You are one of the descendants of the first monster hunter… So, they really haven't told you anything, have they?" She pouted sarcastically, her frame walking towards Amelia a little closer than they once were before.

"No..." the brunette girl looked down on the ground, but she felt a sudden hand on her chin forcing her to look up at the woman’s face.

The woman was indeed gorgeous. Especially those stricken red eyes that glows so vividly like blood, Amelia found herself drawn to them.

"I suppose, I could teach you a trick or two" The woman’s lips formed into a devilish smirk, looking down at the vulnerable brunette.

"Really?" Amelia’s eyes widened in hope. 

"Certainly, and I could also offer you something in return" The hand that was once on Amelia left from her chin. The woman leaned back, turned her heel and slowly walked towards the opposite of her, the sound of her heels clanking against the stone concrete.

"Okay..." Amelie nodded, her eyes looked at the woman in desperation.

"Immortality" Then the woman looked back at her, swiftly attacked her neck like a hawk, fangs deepening. 

Not so long after, she had learned that the woman was named as Elinor Fairmont. She found herself slowly drawn to the woman who made her her.

#original character #oc #wlw #wlw story #elinor fairmont #gracie dzienny #first kill #fem reader #juliette fairmont #netflix first kill #vampire #gay vampires #hollywood vampires #wlw vampire #wlw fanfic #alternate au #calliope burns #calliope x juliette #firstkilledit #very gay #lgbtq positivity #i love them #i love her #a little fruity #gracie abrams #ilovegraciedzienny