#Except i'm praying for my writer's block to go

[sunshinebingo]

This has been my attempt at beating writer’s block after following a few advices. Thank you so much @littlefishbigsea and @secret-third-thing for the help 🙏. And thank you @lulling-night-sky for listening to my whining 😅

Summary: When his mate barged into his office claiming to be sick, Lucien had to find out what she had and how to take care of her.

Word Count: 2k

Warning: NSFW

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Lucien’s eyes burned from reading these damn papers for so long. He had been working for hours. But he could not stop until after he had gone through all of them or they would add up to the work he would have the next day. Assuming that it was probably close to dinner time, Lucien set to work again, hoping to finish it all before he could join his mate.

The thought of spending time with Elain after made him even more determined to complete the task at hand. Since he had been busy the whole day and afternoon, Lucien intended to devote all his time and attention to her alone. But he had to be done with his work first. He grabbed a scattered piece of leather near his stack of papers and tied his loose hair up in a bun. For now, he needed to put all distracting thoughts aside.

The door to his office burst open before he could focus back on the paper before him. “I need a healer,” Elain loudly exclaimed.

“What!?” Lucien pulled his chair back in a panicked state. Was she sick? What was –

“Help!” She interrupted his thoughts as she quickly approached his desk. The back of her hand was pressed to her forehead and she wore a strange expression on her face. Elain reached him before he could stand and oh so gently dropped herself on his lap with a breathless, “Help! I’m fainting.”

One of her hands reached around his neck and the other came to rest on his chest. Lucien raised his eyebrows at the realisation of the act. Then, all his blood started rushing down to his cock when he really looked at her from head to toe.

His sweet mate was wearing a thin lavender nightgown with only her long loose hair to conceal her breast beneath the sheer fabric. Was it already time for bed? Lucien feared that he had again lost track of time. A glimpse at the partially covered window behind him confirmed that the sun was just starting to set. Then why –

“I need help,” Elain pleaded again.

“How can I help you my dear lady in distress?” Lucien asked, bringing a hand to inspect her beautiful face. His other hand wrapped around her waist to support her better.

“I feel…” Her wide doe eyes bore into his like her life truly depended on him. “I feel very hot.”

Lucien pursed his lips to stop a smirk. “Can you tell me more about your symptoms?” he asked as seriously as he could. Elain nodded and pulled his hand away from her face. She dragged his hand slowly down her body, starting from her neck, to the valley of her breast, going down and down until she stopped right between her legs.

“I’m feeling very hot down here,” she said innocently, still looking into his eyes. Lucien kept staring at her as he dragged his hand lower until he reached the hem of her nightgown at her thigh. He slipped his hand under the fabric and went straight to where his lady needed him most.

Lucien took a deep breath in at the first contact of his fingers against her centre. When he felt how wet she was, he decided that his work would kindly have to fuck off for the day because he had much more urgent matters to tend to.

Lucien inserted two fingers inside her and watched as Elain shifted on his lap with a whimper. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of her a few times before he removed his hand completely.

“I see now,” he said, ignoring the disappointed look on Elain’s face. For now. “I know exactly what you have.”

Lucien lowered his face to her ear. “You are horny. And you need to be fucked.” He bit the tip of her pointed ear slightly, then whispered, “Hard.”

Elain’s face flushed and she pulled on his shirt to make him face her again. “Where do you think I can find someone to fuck me?” She asked, using that voice that was filled with sweet honey.

This time, Lucien did not hide his wicked grin. Elain let out a yelp when he suddenly stood up while still holding her. He quickly swiped away all the papers from his desk before placing her down before it. He would deal with the mess later.

Lucien grabbed her by the waist and pressed himself against her, caging the top of her body between his arms and making her feel how hard he was for her. “No one else but me can fuck you, my lady.”

A second later, Lucien’s pants were down, Elain’s nightgown was gathered at her waist and his cock was sliding inside her wet centre. It started very slow. She let out a moan as his cock went deeper until he was fully in. He remained like that for a moment and just savoured the feeling of being inside her. It still amazed him, even after being this intimate with her for over a year, how easily and quickly Elain could make him this hard and make him empty his thoughts of everything else but her.

Lucien gathered all of her hair over her shoulder, leaving the other and her neck exposed so that he could trace his lips and tongue there. One of his hands went up her front until he could grab her breast through her nightgown and torture her even more. Elain reached behind her and tangle a hand in his hair. Lucien sucked hard right between her neck and shoulder when she pulled on his hair. The little vixen was getting impatient. And he had gotten painfully hard at this point. Lucien grabbed both of her hands and pinned them on his desk.

Then, as promised, Lucien started to fuck her. Hard. He showed her no mercy as he started pounding into her, going as deep as their position allowed him to. His office was soon filled by her loud moans and his groans mixed the sound of their bodies slapping against each other. The paper-thin fabric she was wearing was probably doing nothing to stop her from being marked where her skin was pressed against the wooden desk. But it would just give him another excuse to take care of her later. That did not seem to be bothering her anyway if Lucien had to judge by the lewd sounds she was making.

When he felt that she was close, Lucien fucked her faster. He leaned down on her and started kissing and sucking wherever he could reach her skin on her neck and shoulders. The strap of nightgown fell off one of her shoulders and down her arm. Elain held onto his hands tightly as her orgasm hit her.

Lucien kept moving until Elain’s body collapsed and she pressed her forehead to the desk. With the delightful view that she now offered him, Lucien released her hands to grab her ass instead. He gave her a few moments to catch her breath before he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. Her cheeks and nose were flushed, her eyes closed and her lips parted as she breathed through her mouth.

His other hand trailed from her ass to her front. Lucien started rubbing slow circles on her clit. His cock twitched inside her when he went lower and touched her where their bodies were still joined.

‘’Are you feeling better, love?’’ he purred in her ear.

Lucien slowly slid his cock out and went back in. He gathered the wetness at her entrance and brought his hand back to her clit. He teased her there as slowly and he moved his cock in and out of her. He smirked when a delicious whimper left her.

When he started to move back again, Elain chased him by pushing her ass against him. She turned her head to the side. Lucien could not resist the temptation of her lips when she brought her mouth close to his. He kissed her, tasting her tongue and lips as she started moaning again from what his hand and his cock were still doing to her.

‘’More,’’ she said when she pulled her face away.

Lucien pulled back until his cock was almost completely out. He gave her a final peck on the cheek and thrusted back inside her so hard that the desk creaked beneath them. And he started fucking her again. He stood up behind her and felt himself going even deeper than before.

She was so warm and wet around his cock that everything ceased to make any sense. Lucien got closer to the edge the more he listened to her cries of pleasure. He cursed when she tightened again around him. He pressed his hand harder on her clit, the other holding tight to her waist. A few more thrust and Lucien lost all control of his body. He came inside her with a loud groan. Elain followed as soon as he spilled himself in her. Her body tensed and her legs slightly trembled. She threw her head back and came on a silent gasp.

Elain’s dropped her head onto the desk again with a sigh. Lucien stayed as close to her as he could and rested his forearms at her sides. ‘’So,’’ he asked with his head on her shoulder, ‘’Better?’’ He was unable to gather more words than that. Elain did not respond but the giggle she let out was answer enough for him. This female would cause his death someday and he would still be grateful for it.

Lucien straightened up when Elain’s body started sliding down from under him due her weakened legs. Both of their clothes were sticking to their bodies from the sweat. Their hair were in no better state. He removed the leather that had almost completely loosened and let his own hair fall down his back.

He lifted Elain up to make her sit on his desk. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulled him close and rested her head on his chest. Lucien kissed the top of her head and held her close to him. It was not the first time that they were cuddling in his office half naked. Knowing his mate, it would definitely not be the last time that his work would be interrupted like this. Not that Lucien would ever complain.

A distant ding brought their attention to the door. ‘’Oh,’’ Elain exclaimed excitedly, pulling back from his embrace, ‘’Dinner is ready.’’

She hopped down and adjusted her nightgown and her hair like she was about to walk into a room full of people when they were the only ones in their home. Lucien took the opportunity to pull his pants back on. Elain took him by the hand when they were both presentable enough for the furniture and plants of the empty house.

‘’Come on,’’ she started walking towards the door. ‘’Let’s have a nice meal together. Then maybe I’ll get sick again by dessert.’’

Lucien snorted behind her. ‘’Will you be wearing this the whole time?’’ he gestured with his free hand at the nightgown that could barely be considered as clothing.

Elain turned to him while she kept walking down the hall. ‘’I can take it off if you don’t like it.’’ Lucien knew exactly what she meant from her saccharine voice and the mischief in her eyes. Damn him if that did not start to make him hard again.

‘’Maybe I will be the one getting sick next time from the torture you put me through.’’

Elain stopped. Her eyes travelled to his pants, a smile gracing her lips when she looked up at his face again. She stood on her tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. ‘’Don’t worry,’’ she said, surprisingly energetic again, ‘’I will take good care of you.’’ Then she turned and pulled on his hand again as she continued walking.

#elucien #elucien smut #and fluff #It's elucien of course there's fluff #This fic is my version of dancing around the fire and praying for the rain to come #Except i'm praying for my writer's block to go #I don't claim that it is good #I just claim that it is smut #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[musashi]

very sorry if youre getting this twice my wifi lost connection the first time i hit send so im asking again in case didnt get through. its a relief to see you say writers block is just a state of mind issue! do you have any advice for people who are still stuck in it to stop being that way? what part of my thinking has to change to get better? and this has nothing to do with the topic but thank you for being one of the few mayomei sickfic writers in western fandom! finally some good fucking food

honestly its a hard thing to advise because i quite literally just brute force 90% of things in my life out of spite. but i think just internalizing it is a good first step?

like. writer's block is. how do i phrase this. it's just a term we have invented for feeling "stuck." which can be useful, except... it has now kind of taken on a life of its own, where people kind of talk about it as if it is... a condition? something that you can "come down with" so to speak. but in reality all it means is that you are stuck. something isn't working.

why are you stuck?

that's the thing to figure out. some people get stuck by many things. some people are only ever stuck via one thing. but when you chalk it up to "writer's block" what you are basically doing is giving yourself an excuse to not examine it further. you are saying to yourself, well, it's writer's block, hopefully it passes soon. and you are taking away the agency from yourself to help it pass, giving yourself over to the whim of it. you are relenting.

i am bad at relenting.

this goes hand in hand with the other thing that annoys me to hear people talk about--"inspiration." a lot of writers consider this to be an opposite of writer's block, so to speak. sometimes its inspiration, sometimes its motivation, but much like with writer's block, they consider it this kinda nebulous cloud that settles over them and oh! suddenly they can create!

this, again, takes away the writer's agency. they are simply at the behest of writer's block and its opposite, motivation. internalizing this mindset pretty much guarantees that your output will stagger. that terrifies me. the idea that i must go long swaths of time waiting to feel "inspired" or "motivated" sounds like hell. writing, creating, making something is what keeps me alive, and i think if i stopped i'd die.

so, once again i reiterate: what writer's block is, is a writer being stuck. the writer needs to unpack why they are stuck. instead of just saying 'oh lol its writer's block' and leaving it at that.

for me, what i thought was "writer's block" was actually perfectionism and a dissatisfaction with how the story looked in my head vs how it came across on paper. i felt the words i was putting on the page did not match the story i wanted to tell, and i would lock up and feel foggy and uninspired. but when i did that, i was angry, because it felt like giving up, and i fucking hate giving up. i hate failing even more than i hate being stumbling and imperfect.

more than that, i was writing nothing. i came to a conclusion: as i grew as a writer, my standards would shift and change. therefore, there will never exist a timeline where i am 100% satisfied and proud of everything i've ever written. furthermore, this paralytic fear of not telling the story i wanted to tell meant i wasn't telling a story at all. i was setting myself up to fail regardless, so i may as well tell a story while i do it.

the choice came down to, write hundreds of shitty words that were not up to my own (impossible) standard, or write nothing and hope and pray that one day i feel "inspired" enough to get the story in my head out. from a purely logistical standpoint, i think anyone can see which outcome is favourable.

and then i wrote stuff. and, uh, it turns out literally no one feels the same about my writing as i do. i think it sucks shit but everyone else LOVES it and thinks its top tier. which, again, just logically that tells me that my opinion is biased--i'm sitting with the story all day, so it looks predictable and uninspired to me. but no one else has that viewpoint. everyone else is just eating that shit like candy. again, just logistically, this makes it a lot easier to talk down the voice in my head that says i'm not making good enough art. i can just give it a chocolate candy and be like, calm down, little thing. clearly i am.

so to loop it back around: writer's block is just a term people use as a crutch to avoid examining why they feel unable to write. i personally found that saying instead what i am actually struggling with literally instead of chalking it up to some nebulous affliction made me a much more productive writer. i have a general word count i want to make every day and regardless of how i'm feeling i try my best to hit it. and thats why i can just write 45645645 fics all the time like it's nothing.

anyways THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i will write mayomei forever if people keep talking to me abt it. they are so precious to me

#wendy rambles #wendy answers

[francis-writes]

I saw that you are talking requests is it possible to get reader (she/her) giving The Grabber a titjob. Because he been looking at her breast then decided to give it a try. Also can it be like pure steamy up to you. Plus i love your writing i read the Xmas one and it blew my mind away also Merry Christmas

A/N: hey, i'm so sorry i wasn't posting recently, i had a writer's block but i will try to post more often. I'm not proud of this story, i could write it better but i just needed to finish smth

You never expected that you would get kidnapped. And you definitely never expected that you would end up having a steamy romance with your kidnapper. But hey, who can blame you? You were the one in the basement. And you were incredibly bored. There weren't many things you could do, except for sleeping or staring at the wall. And your "host" was quite handsome - or at least he became handsome because you couldn't see any other human being. Well, at the end, you found some entertainment. And the Grabber wasn't complaining when one day you greeted him completely naked, with a tempting proposition.

Your relation has been going on for some time, you already spent a few passionate nights (or days; hard to say when you're locked in the basement) together. The Grabber visited you again but you didn't do anything lewd yet. He was just sitting in front of you, listening as you were talking about something from your past life. He wouldn't be able to tell the specific topic since he wasn't paying attention. Not that he didn't care about whatever you wanted to say, he just couldn't focus. The main cause of his problems was your shirt. Well, it was his shirt before but your clothes became to dirty and Al had to give you something to change. Buying something in woman's shop would be too suspicious so you endes up in his boxers and shirt. But it was too tight for you. To be specific, it was too small in the chest so you could fasten only a few bottom buttons and your breast were perfectly visible between unbuttoned shirt.

"Al? Are you listening?" Your voice brought him back to reality.

"Sorry, I got lost in thoughts"

"What were you thinking about?"

He shot a glance to your chest.

"About you, little dove" he replied smoothly.

"Thanks but I noticed that you were staring at my boobs" you unbuttoned bottom of your shirt and took it off "If you want to play, just say"

Al smiled, he loved your directness. He kneeled in front of you and took your breasts in his hands. The Grabber admired the touch of your skin. It was so warm, soft and delicate. So easy to cut. Of course he would never hurt you. At least as long as you were behaving well.

He began to caress you and took your nipple in his mouth. He was sucking on it and teasing with his tongue. You tilted your head back in pleasure.

When he finished, you lay down, spreading your legs, but Al stopped you. The sight was tempting but he had other idea to try. He took of his clothes and sat on a stool he brought here some time ago. You crawled to him on all fours, knowing very well that sight of you being so obedient and servile always pumped his ego (and other parts of him).

"Do you want me to start with a blowjob or sucking your balls?"

The Grabber ruffled your hair.

"We can do it later, but for now I have another idea. Did you ever tried titjob?"

You shook your head and smiled.

"No but I'm willing to give it a try"

Al moved his hand up and down his dick until it got hard. You spit on it to and then he slid it between your boobs. You squeezed your breast and started moving them up and down. The Grabber regretted that he couldn't touch your tits but instead he grabbed the edges of the stool and he leaned against the wall, praying that this moment would never end. You were bouncing up and down, your knees started to hurt but you didn't gave up.

Finally he came, spraying your chest with his cum. He was still breathing heavily but you could guess by the smile on his face that he was more than happy. You didn't want to bother him but you really needed to clean yourself so you asked

"Can you bring me some towel or a rag? I would like to wipe it" you pointed at your bust.

"I'd rather enjoy this sight a few more minutes, but if you really need, clean yourself with my shirt. I'll bring you new one later"

He seemed to consider something while you were wiping off cum from your body. Eventually he made a decision and said

"I will send my brother to shop so you will be able to take a shower before he comes back"

You freezed, surprised. He never let you leave the basement before.

"Really? You trust me?"

"I shouldn't have?" Al raised an eyebrow.

"No, don't worry, I won't betray your trust"  you quickly defended yourself "I'm just... honoured"

The Grabber smiled and caressed your cheek.

"You deserve that"

#the grabber x reader #the grabber imagine #albert shaw imagine #albert shaw x reader

[angelic-guardienne]

👁👄👁 just a quick update to say that yes i am still alive. i didnt realized i hadnt posted anything since july of LAST YEAR. aughhh

here's what i'm actively writing on:

modern au hashira/reader + a bug in the house (like cockroaches, wasps, spiders)

Sanemi/Reader my "was supposed to be a collab but I got writer's block for a year so now I can turn it into my own thing" loosely based on the song "Constant Repeat" by Charli XCX

breath of the wild yandere link au (🙏🏾 forgive me lmao) i was just reading too much yandere fics at the time of conception and wanted to write my own. hence

stardew valley alex/farmer story.

stuff that i'm desperately trying to drag out of development hell and am actively pondering

ffxv au, oc fic (it's hard to put this in any sort of succinct way but here i go) OC is a devout from the ffiii era (which is basically like expert white mage) who gets a prophetic dream about darkness eclipsing the world, so she goes on a pilgrimage to all the crystals of her world (earth, wind, fire, water) to pray and try to get some clarity on that prophecy. she meets a disaster during her journey and as she's dying, she wishes she could have been more help to her people/the world. so instead of dying, she ends up crystallized (a la zelda from ss) and wakes up in ffxv times with no memories except her name and some of her magic. so her goal is to get her memories back, help the boys on their journey, and figure out the prophetic dream she had and what she can do to help. this story has been in development since 2017 and was a completely different story at its conception.... now it's changed quite a lot and actually merged with one of my other "development hell" stories. i've been having many daydreams about it but it's been so long since i've played ffxv that it's holding me back.

january 7th: sanemi fic set after the end of demon slayer where he's trying to cope with a certain person's death

if you're curious to know more about any of this, feel free to drop an ask! i love talking lol

#admin note #ffxv #kny #botw #sdv

[internerdionality]

Can I ask if there is anything percolating in the Suffer a Sea Change series? That "pre-ship" tag is haunting me.

I am also equally haunted by the I'm Not Ready for Whatever This Is series. The impending poly situations. help.

Yes, you absolutely can, thank you for asking, and yes, there is! The latter will be out well before the former, but both are very much in the works.

I am kind of a classic case of ADD “takes on too many fics” kinda writer. Right now my top priorities/fics I feel driven to write are:

My winter exchange fic for the Sprizzy server (currently untitled, about halfway done, will be posted third week of January come hell or high water)

The next Stizzy installment for I’m Not Ready for Whatever This Is, which is going to be titled "Add a Flourish" (I was hoping for this next part to plunge into the SteddyHands but Stede wasn’t done wallowing in angst. Almost done, will be posted second or fourth week of January depending on how progress on the exchange fic goes)

Finishing Fuck it Through as a Crew (draft of the chapter is done but needs some heavy editing, also January)

Final chapter of Paid with Sighs and Rubies (about half done, aiming for late January/early February)

Always another chapter of my “Batman becomes a cat” fic, whenever I have time

Past that, things get hazier. I really want to get back to my Marvel time travel fix-it but I’ve been a bit blocked on the next chapter. I have a T4T4T modern GentleScribed that I keep meaning to finish but have barely touched since Season 2 came out. The next chapter of Burning Like Embers, Falling Tender is actually about half done but every chapter of that thing is a monster, now, so it still has a lot of writing before it'll be ready to post.

Annddd yes, the sequel to Soaked to the Skin, which is titled Cut to the Bone and explores Izzy and Lucius settling into Stede's crew and figuring out what Lucius being polyam actually means for them, while Ed wrestles with having lost Stede and Izzy! I have about 35K written for it, but most of that was drafted in late 2022 and very early 2023. I haven't had the motivation to work seriously on it for a while, I'm afraid, but I do really want to get back to it.

To be honest, I have some insecurities about it being not as good as Soaked to the Skin—I don't want to follow my baby with something that'll disappoint readers! But I'm hoping once I clear the decks from some of my top numbered priorities above (assuming they don't immediately get replaced with new plot bunnies, lol), I'll find the energy to focus on it again. I've had some beta readers go through the current in-progress chapters recently and they have been giving me some more hype about it!

(Although if it's the Ed/Izzy pre-ship tag that's haunting you, that plot thread isn't going to pick back up until the third — and final? maybe? unless I turn in into a quartet? — installment for that series, tentatively titled Struck to the Heart. Except for how, you know, his devotion to Ed is always driving Izzy's character and motivations. But they're not going to be in the same zip code at any point during Cut to the Bone. I'm so, so sorry. )

And then finally, down here in my purgatory, I have my "I swear I haven't abandoned you" fics like Unmoored (next chapter started, at least?), Dining is Pageantry, my three Good Omens WIPs, the sequel to Learning at the Foot of One of the Greats, the next chapter of What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor (I swear I'm gonna finish that fic one day, I swear), Praying on the Height, and that Rizzy cannibalism fic I keep promising HopelessScribe I'll finish :D

And below that I have my graveyard fics that I haven't worked on in months but really do want to go back to one day—the DC/Slayerverse crossover, the insane Dragonriders of Pern OFMD AU, my winter piece (from last year, oy) for Dragonmuse's Leda House series, and all my poor abandoned SuperBat wips!

#my writing #fanfic writing #fanfic wips #ask answered

[marvelyhp]

Still you | chapter II

Chapter II: The comeback

Synopsis: Y/n decides to help the Avengers despite their betrayal two years prior and her life makes a big shift once again.

Pairing: Y/n x Bucky Barnes and some Y/n x Sam Wilson

Word count: 5,997

warnings: cussing, some fluff

note: I know I took so long but I had writer's block. then, I got covid and I felt too awful to write. But I'm okay now so this is what I could come up with. Not my greatest stuff. the tag list is open :)

Side note: I would really appreciate hearing from you and your thoughts!

--------------------

We managed to lower two floors without raising suspicion or making too much noise. At least, James and I were pretty silent, whispering if needed. But of course, Stark always had to open his damn mouth. He had been talking all the way —pretty loudly too— and he just did it again.

“Where’s the grandpa with the bad luck of having you as a tenant?” The man didn’t know the meaning of whispering. Or maybe he did. He just wanted to make my life more complex than it was. I looked frantically behind me, praying he had not seen me sneaking out. At the sight of no one, a breath of relief exploded out of me. But it didn’t last long, irritation quickly dampening my already poor mood.

“Shut the hell up!” I hissed. My patience with the insufferable man wearing thin.

“Oh, relax. If he sees us, we’ll knock him out and blame you.” He mocked, a chuckle erupting throughout the hall and following the stairlike a draft of wind. My blood started to boil inside my veins and I felt the heat spread from head to toes. I was afraid to be reaching my tipping point already because this was nothing. Two years out of practice left me hypersensitive to his shit. I wondered how long I would be able to stand the insufferable mortal and regret hit me like a ton of bricks.

“He is a good man, Stark. We will not knock him out.” I whispered as I pressed myself against the wall. Twisting my head around the corner at the end of the hall, I sneaked a glance at the stairs and the visible space from the top. “Watch your step here. His room is right underneath the stairs. We don’t want to wake him up.

I walked forward, pressing my foot in the first step, praying the creak of the old wood would keep quiet today as it did some nights. At least that’s what I hoped but it wasn’t what happened. A groan broke the silence in the room and I knew that if he was awake, he definitely heard it. I waited a couple of seconds, alert to any noise. When nothing came, I advanced four more steps. I focused on the one shadow dancing in the wall and relief swept through me. He wasn’t awake.

I turned, thinking the guys were still up. However, I let out a gasp when Bucky’s face came into view, mere inches away from mine. Thanks to the startle, the foot I had dangerously close to the edge slipped.

My heart stopped as I thought about the fall and the inevitable bone-crushing pain that would come after it. The stairs were pretty high and even though they were wood, it was quite sharp. Splinters roamed everywhere. I waited for the pain and the strenuous sound. It was phenomenal, the first time I saw the team in two years and I would meet them in a body bag with a broken neck.

However, it never came.

When I opened my eyes, blue electric eyes stared back at me. Our faces were inches away from each other. A hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him to hold me from falling. I was hyper-aware of our breaths clashing against each other, making the most sinful of sounds. Our lips were separated by a small space, too close for my brain to catch up quickly. I noticed how his lips roamed my face, stopping at my lips slightly parted by the surprise. His eyes held a fervent fire and my breath quickened once I felt the inevitable rush of warmth roaring my body.

Coughing slightly, I took a step backward, stepping out of his grasp. I forgot all about the landlord as I scolded myself. The man looked at me and there I was getting flushed like a raging hormonal teenager. I looked at everything but Bucky’s face, why I knew still had his eyes on me except now his jaw was firmly set. I wanted to ask him what was going on inside his head but a hovering shadow at the top of the stairs captured my attention.

“What are you still doing up there?'' The man looked utterly confused standing at the top of the stairs surrounded by darkness. I wondered if it had to do with what he just witnessed.

“You care about that grandpa, don’t you?” His expression was one of disbelief. His body wasn’t moving as if in shock or trying to process the information he thought was correct. And it was, but he didn’t have to know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, unaffected.

“Of course you do. You care about the landlord.”

I whirled around as fast as I could with the incident earlier present in my head as a gruff voice filled the room. A short, stubby old man stood at the foot of the stair dressed in a white t-shirt and some basketball shorts. The ends of his hair stood up as if held by a string and maneuvered by a child. His narrowed black eyes stared back at us. His lips pressed in a thin line.

“Of course, she does, kid. Why shouldn't she?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. I followed the movement of the milk dancing in the glass on his right hand. I felt proud of the English I had taught him and how-- as much as I didn't want this to happen-- useful it would be. I looked back at Stark to find him gaping like a fish. Little croaks came from his throat but no coherent words came from him. It was the first time I had seen Stark speechless. “I’m an incredible landlord if I say so myself.”

He was.

I cursed inwardly. There were things I didn't want everyone to know. To a certain extent, I wasn’t ready for the team, for Stark, to find out that I wasn’t the monster he expected me to be. I wasn’t ready for him to look at me differently. Andrei had the power to change our whole dynamic.

It wasn’t that Andrei and I shared anything about life. Or at least I didn’t. Andrei liked to talk, to share his life with me, and try to make me talk. He said I was too reserved. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

It had been a warm evening. I could see the sun filtering through the windows. Shining onto the top of the show top and illuminating the cottage-like bakery. The dough in my hands stuck to my skin, lumps of a uniformed cream mass suffocating the fingers. The powdered white dust sat beside me and I felt irritated. I hadn’t thought about pouring it on the mixture before I touched it. ‘I was out of my element here’ I thought as I reached for the flour.

Andrei’s baker had abruptly called five minutes before work notifying him he couldn’t work his shift. His grandmother had fallen down the stairs and fractured her hip, hence his lack of concern for Andrei. He was the only living relative she had so it fell upon him to look after her. One missed shift would turn into dozens. The bakery was small and hidden in a remote part of Romania. The clientèle was not much besides those living in the small town from years ago, or even since they were born.

Everyone in town knew each other. When I arrived I had my doubts about staying in this place because of that same reason. I would be the talk for weeks and I couldn’t risk so many people questioning my presence. Except, I was lucky.

One evening, I sat in a small and dark corner of a bar near the outskirts of the town where it was most probable to see an outsider. Two men sat a couple of feet away from me, talking fairly loudly. Out of boredom and desire to know the people I might have been seeing every day, I heard and studied their moments. Taking notes about their behaviors and storing them far into the file I had on humanity. Their voices were cheery as they ate pastries that I was sure to not be from the small bar.

“This is so good! I can’t believe I haven't tasted a pastry this good since I left,” he moaned loudly in reaction to the puff on his hand. The crumbly dessert spilling powdered sugar all over his dark gray pants. “Andrei hasn’t lost his touch.”

“Who is this Andrei you talk so highly of?” The older male asked the seemingly young partner. The man wore an expensive suit, not one that could be found here and from what I gathered from their conversation, he had not grown up here. But his friend did. What he said next grabbed my attention the most.

“His bakery is pretty hidden in the town. Someone that didn’t know the road would not find him. He used to be a criminal, on the run and all that. But since he got out of prison he became a baker. the man sure has a gift. I don’t even know why he went to jail, because the man is a sweetheart. I think he was just dealt a bad hand.” The man kept munching on his pastry as he talked. The vowels all merging to create a soundless blob. I swore he said more but that was all I could understand and by the face of his friend, he understood less.

“It’s such a small town. Why was it never known?”

“I don’t know. Rumor has it that he was born here but left, something to do with his family. He came back years later, on the run from some people. People we assumed to be the police. Of course, the police followed his trail and eventually found him here. Two years later. He hid pretty well if, you asked me. He treats people with respect but he never talks about himself. He has always been reserved when it comes to his life, only telling small details that lead to nothing. You know, not enough to form a life picture…”

Before he finished talking, I was out of my seat, walking towards the pair. I plastered an innocent look on my face, one I had studied and perfected many times since coming to earth. I relaxed my posture, knowing I had been tense and tucked since I entered this town. I still can’t believe I was social before. Nobody would believe that if I told them now.

“Hey, those pastries look marvelous!” I said in a cheery voice when I reached the pair. Both of their heads whipped towards my direction, curiosity written in their faces. I could hear the questions in their head about me and where I came from and what I looked for in town. Typical gossiping mortals. I wanted to cut the tie between our heads, feeling bad about corrupting the men’s thoughts. But I couldn’t, not until I had what I wanted. “Do you know where could I find them?”

“Sure thing. What’s your name, sweet thing?” Sweet thing, that’s funny. If he had been into the American news he would not say that.

“Calypso. Do you know where the place is? Can you explain it to me?” I said, trying to hide the hurry in my voice. His thoughts were front seat in my mind, not wanting to miss a thing.

“So eager.” He chuckled. Instead of the route, I was expecting, he thought about my naked form and countless sexual images began replaying. I resisted the urge to impale his backside, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. I played his game. I battered my eyelashes and looked at him from hooded eyes. I bit my lip gently and walked closer. Sneaking a glance at his friend, I noticed he was no longer looking at us. He seemed uncomfortable and had turned to his coffee and pastries. I wish I had a coffee to turn to.

“Maybe you could take me there. If you remember the way, of course.” He smirked and grabbed the jacket slung over the wooden chair he sat on. His friend looked at us, startled as if he wasn’t expecting my response. However, the joy of his friend would be short-lived. Images of the way to the small bakery filled my head and I smirked. Before he could take my hand to guide me to his car I asked for the restroom.

As soon as I came in, my eyes searched for some window I could use to leave unnoticed. And I found it in the corner of the bathroom beside one of the huge black and white mirrors. I locked the door and hurried to open the window, sliding through the door. The darkness of the night didn’t face me but my alert was high. Everybody could hide in the dark. My heart rocked against my chest as I saw the same guy from early waiting beside his car. I hurried along the alleyway, pulling my hood up and hiding my hair, disappearing into the dark.

“Calypso, boy for you.” I was brought from my memories by the rough voice of Andrei. Whoever didn’t spend much time with him would think he was mad all the time thanks to his voice and forever furrowed white bushy eyebrows. I matched the furrowing of his eyebrows when he mentioned a boy. I had been careful enough to not get attached or get anyone attached to myself so the mention of another human being besides Andrei spooked me.

Suddenly, the thought of agents looking for me or the usual threats I had filled me with panic. I heard the thunderous beat of my heart. The tremble of my hands disrupted the beautiful form of the pastry in my hands. quickly cleaning and taking away the apron full of white dust, I walked to the front of the door.

A dark-haired man in his early twenties stood next to the door with a blue box in his hands. A white shimmering ribbon adorned the delicate box, wrapping silkily around it to form a well-done bow. The chiseled bone structure of his profile caught my breath as he looked to the small, underpopulated plaza in the corner of the rondure. The curvature of his roman nose and the thin shape of his lips sticking in his profile.

I saw him regularly at the small bakery. His usual was a Papanaşia with a black strong coffee. He left three dollars on the tip jar three times a week and I noticed if he was overly happy, he would leave a fiver regardless of the day or how many days he had tipped. I had seen him mad twice in the store. Seemingly, he was one of those guys that harbored every trouble inside in a chaotic turmoil. I knew because I had invaded his mind one of those times. Curiosity had gotten the best of me, knowing he was always the type of guy that carried the sun on his shoulder. Every time he caught my attention, I tried to remind myself that he could’ve been an agent sent by Hydra to kill me or worse, kidnap me.

“Hello. What can I help you with?” I said, confidence laced in my voice. The confidence I did not expect to have. His head whipped towards me. A smile broke on his face at the sight of me. I saw the fidgeting of the box in his hands and the sudden bobbing of his knee. He didn’t appear to be harboring any secrets, or at least not deadly ones.

“Hey. I know this will probably look very weird to you but I’ve been watch- I mean not watching but I just- I,” His stammering caused a giggle to leave my lips involuntarily. My hand immediately flew to my lips, hiding the smile corrupting my face. He lowered his face but not before giving me one of those smiles that could light up a world. God, I felt sappy. He looked at me once again. “I don’t know how to do this. I definitely didn’t think it through.” He chuckled. One of his hands came up to brush his face while shaking it, side to side. I could tell he was nervous, maybe more that I initially had been.

Seeing him stammer was the cutest thing I had seen since the little green and purple flowers that grew back home and surrounded our palace. So, I decided to help him a bit. “You could start with your name,” I said, trying to not smile too much. Agent, agent, agent…

“God, you probably should’ve done that first. Nice one.” He said, more to himself than for me to hear it. “I’m Razvan. It's lovely to finally meet you.” I shook his hand. It was rough yet soft with elongated fingers caressing my own small and thin one.

“Calypso.”

“What I meant to say, you know, before I shot myself in the foot was that you caught my eye since I first saw you. Now, I swear I'm not stalking you because it could be easy to think after the horrible introduction I just did. But, yeah, I would like to get to know you, if that’s okay with you.”

I did think about it. I swear I did. I thought about how he could be linked to Hydra and if you searched on the deepest paranoid corner, the Avengers. I thought he could’ve been just a random murderer whose floor I had shaken. My voice of reason said no. and with the saddest feeling settling my stomach, I told him what I thought. Or tried to.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t. You seem like the loveliest person b-but I…” For some reason, I couldn’t just say no. “Can I think about this?” That was the only thing that came out of my mouth while I tried to get the words ‘go away and ‘don’t speak to me’ out of my mouth. His smile faded a bit, but even then he tried to keep his positivity and bright personality on. I could feel the waves of disappointment once I started speaking but hope soon came flooding back.

“Sure. I'm a complete stranger coming here every day just to see you. I can see how that’s alarming. take your time.” He shook his head as if realizing what he had just said. He chuckled and I tried to give him a small smile. Before I could turn away and leave, I felt him touch my elbow. I jumped back.

His brows furrowed quickly. “Forgive me. This is for you. And please accept it.” I thought about refusing but this would only prolong this meeting, pushing me to accept a company I wasn't ready for. I took the small box, my hand already trying to open the shimmering blue box. “No, please. Open it later, more calmly and everything and you can tell me whenever you’re ready if you like it.” I gave him a smile, which he returned brightly before diving back inside the back of the store.

Once inside, I undid the delicate ribbon, watching it dissolve like seafoam by the lovely blue water. The glistening gold chain with a tiny, colorful Koi fish rested in the center of the box. My heart swelled and I felt a way I hadn’t felt since Bucky. He remembered what I had told him that first, and the only time we had talked before today.

The voice of Andrei brought me out of my stupor with a jump. A hand traveled to grasp my heart while the other held the box tightly.

“Razvan is nice guy.” His voice was gruff and deep like it had been since I had met him. He walked behind me and grabbed a pack of flour to dump beside me. I looked towards the other and realized I was running out of it.

“Do you know him?”

“Yes. Comes every day for two years. Great boy.”

When I didn’t say anything, he stopped cutting open the pack of flour and turned to look at me. “You too reserved. Not want to end like Andrei alone. Give guy chance.” That was all he said before he left. A tall wrinkly woman with short red hair calling out for him.

The last thing I thought that day after he left drove me to the same road he had set me on. I didn’t want to end alone or die alone for that matter. But what was I to do if everyone thought I was a selfish monster who just wanted to kill and bring chaos? The only person who didn’t feel that particular way was the same man I was leaving without saying goodbye.

Stark seemed to have gathered his words together because he suddenly began spewing some shit on Andrei. shit, he didn’t like it.

“The girl is no selfish girl. Only a fool like yourself would think so. Only a blind man would propose such a thing.” His brows were furrowed but Otherwise, he was calmly standing at the bottom of the stairs sipping his milk. He seemed like he would continue but I made sure to stop him

“Andrei, no.”

“I see. She holds you hostage and controls you, doesn’t she?” Stark countered, a smirk settling in his features. I pinched my nose, sighing loudly.

“You have to leave with this buffoon?” I walked down to his side, muttering an annoyed yes. “I’m sadder for you than him.” A chuckle escaped him as he hugged my shoulders with one arm. I tried to push him away but found no will to do so. I would miss Andrei. He felt like the father I never had. Worry settled in my stomach knowing I had been here and I would no longer be if anything happened to him. I hugged him back, despite my better judgment and the four pairs of eyes staring back at me.

“Don’t forget about me, violet. Nor dear Razvan.’ He told me after letting me go. I nodded before calling back to my two companions. Stark came down, slowly walked to the front door. Bucky at his heels. They both turned. Bucky’s face had some sort of emotion I couldn't decipher. I thought I could, but I doubt he would feel happy about finding someone genuine to spend my days with.

Stark, on the other hand, looked at Andrei as if he had grown an extra head.

“I’m confused. Aren’t you supposed to be dying at her touch or something? Are you sure she didn’t threaten you to act this way?” The funny thing was, he sounded genuinely confused. The skepticism in his voice hurt my feelings but the mere fact it was stark made me forget quickly. He was an insensitive prick with a personal vendetta.

“Take this fool away before I turn him into a human pastry,” Andrei commented. I walked towards them, chuckling. “Ai grijă, violet aprins.” Take care, fiery violet. The elder said before we shut the door behind us. my heart swelled at his words. I knew I would long for those quiet evenings where it would rain and we would sit down in the living room with a book, quietly enjoying our presence. We laughed and made new and invented pastries in the kitchen for days, always looking for new and innovative flavors. I would miss the man that had treated me like his daughter.

“Take care, Pop.” I whispered to myself. Not thinking a long-haired blue-eyed soldier would hear.

And just like that, we disappeared quietly into the night and I said goodbye to one of the most important people in my life.

James let me know they came in the Quinjet, that enormous thing I had refused to sit on two years ago. the walk was not far from where we were and we found it in a while.

The Quinjet was hidden behind one of the buildings next to the bakery. the gigantic thing sleeping while we arrived to climb up. clint stood outside, his arms crossed. that man always looked like he was in a power pose.

“Romania? What is it with chased people and Romania?” Confusion and genuine interest were written all over his face.

Barton had always been a friend before I knew the truth. Nat told me she had told him in a drunken stupor. he tried to talk to her about telling me but she didn’t listen. I didn’t hold it against him because I knew he wasn’t actively participating but he didn’t do anything either.

I shrugged. “It’s a good hiding place. too many criminals organizations for you to matter. nobody cares who the hell you are as long as you keep quiet.”

“Good shadow place.” Bucky added as he tried to help me get in the Quinjet. I ignored his hand, focusing on Clint’s face.

“Exactly.” My response was clipped. if he was fishing for a normal conversation he was in for a treat.

After a while, we took off. My legs became restless as I sat in front of Stark and Bucky while Clint piloted the flying thing. boredom pushed me to get up from my seat and walk towards the front of the Quinjet. that, and Straks glare along with the awkwardness of Bucky’s movements.

Clint’s focused face came into view as I sat beside him. silence engulfed the both of us before he broke the silence with some words I didn’t expect.

“We missed you.” it was a quiet remark but full of shocking force. I just sat there, wide-eyed looking towards the already clearing sky. I looked towards him and forced myself to respond. a scoff came out of me, causing Clint to look rapidly towards me.

“You have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. Nat was pretty shaken up when you left. we looked for you everywhere and decided you didn’t want to be found. that you needed some time. it took you longer than we thought.”

“You didn’t find me because you didn’t look. You don’t have to lie to me, Barton.” I said, masking the hurt I felt with anger. why keep lying to me? I knew they didn’t care sop they didn’t need to act as they did.

“What? we did loo-” He never finished his sentence since Stark’s voice boomed around the small space. he came to let us know where would land soon as if we didn’t know already. Clint was the pilot, it was impossible for us to not know. suspicion arose in my chest but I soon forgot it when I saw the massive compound below us.

✹✹✹ I would be lying if I said my stomach wasn’t fluttering and my hands trembled slightly. I subtly rubbed my hands in my jeans, hoping to get some moisture away. But, there was something else bothering me. It had been there for a little while. The emptiness in my chest divided in two, as though… I don’t even know. The doors slid with a swift sound and my heart rate hit new floors.

I tried to avoid showing any emotion I felt. Seeing them surrounding the long table, all in their daily clothing made it hard to remember. I couldn’t show the happiness of seeing them all right after two years. Nor could I show the excitement deep in my bones seeing Wanda’s face. I couldn’t forget the damage (situation) those high-held beings made to my heart.

I looked at them with a mask of indifference firmly placed.

Wanda was the first to step forwards, as I knew she would. I didn’t expect her to but a part of me screamed how she had been the only real friend through the year I spent in this cage. I resisted the urge to hug her, touch her, and receive the reassurance I so deeply wanted.

“I thought- we thought you were dead.” The revelation shocked me. It felt as though they couldn’t believe I was alive. But I was. The question was… why did they think so?

“Nop. Still kicking.” I replied.

“Unfortunately.” I heard Stark mutter under his breath. I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to kick him. I could make him feel a true kick in his brain. And his ass, too.

“Y/n!” A high-pitched voice came from the corner next to me. The smiley face of Pepper Potts came rushing towards me, engulfing me in a hug. My nerve endings shot and I prayed my instinctive responses wouldn’t go through. Fortunately for me, they didn’t. Before I could even think to hold her back—which I wouldn’t have done anyway— she stepped back. Smile intact and a gleam in her eyes capable of illuminating the whole room.

“Jesus. You’ve changed so much!” Her hands settled on my shoulder, holding softly and slightly shaking my shocked frame. “I missed you.” Her vice took a sweet edge and her head lolled to the side. Her eyes scrutinized me with the look of a mother who had just seen her child after a hard year abroad. I resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably out of her grasp. I wasn’t used to this.

“Honey, leave the feral alien alone.” Tony’s voice reached my ears. “We have important matters to discuss.”

“God, Tony. Give us a break. We haven’t seen the kid in two years.” Natasha’s ______ filled the room as I saw her taking steps towards me. I noticed there were no relaxed steps but tense and wary. Her eyes held a sort of apology mixed with caution.

I just stared. Deep inside I didn’t know how to react to someone I hadn’t seen in a long time, someone who betrayed me gets closer. Her body language told me she was sorry but still cautious of my reaction but I didn’t know if I should forgive her. Her right hand stretched towards my frame. I shifted uncomfortably in place, moving slightly away from her.

I saw her eyes roam my body, noticing the discomfort. She came to a halt three feet away from me. Her lips were pursed as she let her head drop for a second. She recovered quickly, extending her same hand towards me, this time to shake my hand.

“It’s good to have you back, Y/n.”

I took her hand in mine, shaking firmly. I nodded my head towards her. My lips pursed. The movement of Wanda’s body caught my eye. She stepped closer to me, her hands nervously trembling beside her big, red jumper.

“Can I hug you?” Hearing those words coming out of her froze the ongoing flow of blood through my veins. I was shocked, to say the least. I bet I looked like a gaping fish as an incomprehensible string of detached words escaped my lips. Everyone else seemed as surprised as I was. For completely different reasons I would bet. As Stark had said, they thought I was a free being.

She waited patiently, probably aware of the shock and ongoing battle I had inside me. She was the only one aware of my thoughts about showing anything besides contempt. And she knew why. But I sent it all to hell and for once, I did what I wanted to do. I nodded.

Her smile was worth enough as she moved quickly towards me, as though worried I would change my opinion. Her thin arms wrapped around my neck, my lack of height apparent as my 5’1 ass reached her shoulders. I resisted the urge to cry as I wrapped my arms around her back, relishing in a familiar face that didn’t hate my only existence.

“I missed you.” It was a whisper, only for me to hear. A small smile escaped my lips as hope blossomed in my chest. Hope that maybe I wasn’t a lost cause. Hope that maybe someday I could have a family.

“I did too, Red.” I murmured back. Careful to not raise my voice as I didn’t want anyone to know anything. I felt oddly vulnerable to be hugging someone let alone hugging someone in front of seven people. I noticed Vision staring and I gave him a subtle nod, a small smile creeping upon my lips. He nodded back with that usual blank expression not in compass with the feelings he harbored. After some time, I let her go before Stark had another remark to make.

I noticed Steve leaning against a far-away table, maybe ten feet away from where I was. His head lowered, eyes on the ground. His arms surrounded his build, hugging himself with a heavy frown on his face. He didn’t want to look towards me and I thought I knew why. He was ashamed of what he did. He was guilty anyway you looked at it. He was guided by Bucky to do everything. He followed the man despite knowing it was wrong. Not because your friend tells you to throw yourself out the window means you’ll do it. He knew full well what was wrong and right. He knew Barnes' proposal was as low as a man could get.

If he didn’t apologize and acknowledge what he did, he was dead to me. I mean, he had tried to apologize that day, but I was devastated and no words came through my anger.

There were a few handshakes and subtle nods here and there before I noticed a presence missing. I looked around for the usual big man with an overinflated sense of heroism but didn’t find him. He was big enough for anyone to spot him. I felt a pang in my chest and a tingle at the back of my head and I knew something was wrong. The air shifted and my hands started trembling slightly.

“Where’s my brother?” I asked, my voice slightly shaky. I tried to compose myself, knowing he had to be alright or I would’ve felt something.

“We don’t know. We couldn’t get a hold of him.” Natasha replied. I noticed the subtle worry etched in her face lines.

Suddenly, I understood that emptiness inside me. That swirling emotion unlatched to an earthy body. One of the connectors inside of me, besides bucky’s, was empty. It didn’t have any energy to connect to.

No.

No.

No.

I didn’t realize I began hyperventilating while the word repeated itself over and over in my head. My chest rose and fell quickly while the air got caught in my throat. My hand shot out to grasp anything in reach I could hold myself up with.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?” Wanda was the first to step forward and grab my elbow. Her soft touch didn't completely register in my sensory sense. The only thing in my mind was the heavy colorless fog swirling around in my insides.

The worst part was, I didn’t know which of my brothers it belonged to. I thought about them and how long it had been since I had seen them. Since I had been with them.

“Can you all excuse me?” I pulled myself together and without waiting for a response, I hurried across the room. I thought about the me that they just saw but somewhere deep down, I didn’t care.

I hurried, passing Steve's body. This time, he looked intently at me. I didn’t expect him to stand up and grab my shoulders. By this point, my vision was blurry and I tried hard to reconnect with the missing life essence.

“Y/n, I-”

“Can we do this later, Rogers?” I spat, cutting him off before getting my elbow out of his grasp. I left, shuddering and feeling a wave of anger rising in my chest.

What a good way to make a comeback.

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A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 4,040 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Song And Story Inspiration: Bittersweet-After 7

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @rideordiechronicles @pixie88 @txemrn @lucy-268 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @bebepac @imturaxamara @blackkingliamstan @queenjilian @secretaryunpaid @ridgy--didge @theworldofprompts @choicesficwriterscreations

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.

Prompt Time! Today I’ll be using @theworldofprompts prompt “What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?” it'll be in bold in black. Also I know that I can’t be the only one who’s excited that they picked the greatest Disney movie one-liner as a prompt.

(Also this series is a slight deviation of the original story. In the original story, the werewolf hunter is a woman. But in this series the hunter is a man.)

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

A/N 2: I had a time writing this chapter. Writers block and all out forgetfulness is a bitch! But I did it! *pats self on the back*

TW: paranormal activity. Communication with the dead. Reader Discretion Is STRONGLY ADVISED.

Chapter 22.) Reflection.

It′s crazy how you flaunt your passion.

When you let meaning of them worth take over you.

You stare into my soul like that.

Makes me wonder when you ain't get by the side of me.

It′s pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you, you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It′s bittersweet.

It had been 3 days since Naia was rushed to the hospital because of Wolfbane being in her system. Her parents, especially her mother, were both distraught and furious that their daughter had gotten herself caught up in the tireless war between The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory. Those three days felt like years to them. Both took turns sitting vigil over their daughter.

The only saving grace was that her condition hadn't changed. It hadn't gotten better but Laurie and Shane were thankful it hadn't worsened. They just wanted her to open her eyes. Laurie needed her daughter to wake up. She had to hear her voice again. And every moment that she didn't the more she went crazy. Laurie would just sit at Naia’s bedside holding onto her hand and pray Naia would squeeze her hand. The agony of waiting was going to kill her.

“Anything?” her husband asked as he entered the room with coffee in hand.

Laurie just shook her head no.

“It'll happen, baby. It has to. She'll wake up and we'll be able to breathe again.”

She never said a word to him. She just held onto Naia’s hand as Shane set the cup of coffee he brought her down. Laurie's eyes were red and puffy and her face was a mess. She blamed The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory but mostly she blamed herself. She swore to protect her daughter from all of this. To prevent her from going through the hell she went through over 30 years ago. And feels like she failed. A pain no mother wants to go through.

Laurie rubbed Naia’s knuckle silently, willing their daughter to wake up.

“Have you eaten baby?”

Laurie shook her head no.

“You should go eat something baby.”

“I don't want food. I want our daughter. I want her to wake up now.”

Shane sat beside her and placed his hand over hers.

“I know, baby. I want that too. I need it. You need it. But it's not good for you not to eat something.”

“I can't leave her! What if she wakes up and I'm not here?! I have to be here!”

Her frantic tone worried Shane.

“Baby listen to me! You need to go eat something. I'll be right here. I will watch over her. If anything happens I swear to you that I will tell you immediately.”

“But Shane—”

“No buts! Go eat something. Now! I won't let anything happen to her. I swear that on my life.”

Laurie looked at him before getting up and going to the door. When she looked back towards Naia, Shane smiled softly at her.

“It's okay baby, I'll keep her safe.”

Laurie nodded sadly before walking out the door.

Shane turned his attention back to their daughter, his worry, resentment, rage, sorrow, protectiveness, and anxiety all on high. His little girl. His flesh and blood. She hadn't moved or spoken since he last saw her. He was thankful for the hospital staff. They were able to get her allergic reaction to Wolfbane under control but she was still unconscious. None of the meds she was on seemed to be working.

It′s so easy to listen.

When your tongue is an innocent prisoner of war oh yeah.

And it might bе wrong but we never еnd that.

Damage is done, always pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's bittersweet.

It didn't take Laurie long to come back from the cafeteria. When Shane looked up she walked in with food for them both.

“I'm not the only one who needed to eat.”

Shane smiled softly as she handed him a sandwich.

“Still nothing?”

“Still no change. But I'm not giving up.”

Laurie smiled at her husband's resolve. They sat together and ate their food in silence. Their eyes went from Naia to the IV drip machine she was hooked up to.

“Don't worry baby. Our girl will wake up.”

“I know she will. She has to. And when she does…we have to tell her the truth.”

Shane looked at his wife confused.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re ready to do that?”

“Look at her Shane! She wouldn't be here, hell we wouldn't even be here if she knew the truth. It's time. So when she wakes up and is lucid enough to hear it we'll tell her everything.”

Shane took his wife's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Okay. If you’re ready and you're sure. Then I am too.”

Laurie offered him a small smile.

Yeah I know you know me.

That′s why you the only one can push my buttons.

Sometimes it's like you speak another language.

Got me like adios buenas noches baby.

Oh it′s pain and pleasure.

To love someone so.

So much you hate them.

Push me over the edge then.

To go catch you, your love is.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

I build you up, then knock you down.

It′s bittersweet.

(What you want from me, want, want)

You stay quiet and I get loud.

It's always bittersweet.

While her body was still, Naia was subconsciously awake.

“Naia…”

Naia slowly opened her eyes, and looked around frantically and confusedly. She couldn't see anything or anyone.

“What? Where am I?”

That's when she heard a woman's voice.

“I've been waiting to meet you.”

When Naia turned around she saw a figure she didn't recognize.

“Who’s there? Who are you? What is this place?”

The figure in front of her soon materialized into an elderly black woman. One that she recognized.

“Oh…my…God! You’re…you're…Delia?”

She smiled at Naia.

“Hello, my dear. It's wonderful to finally meet you.”

Naia’s jaw dropped.

“But how?!”

“I thought you…you died a long time ago!”

“I did. 3 years ago.”

“Wait! Am I dead?”

Delia laughed softly.

“No dear, you’re not dead. You are in the world between worlds.”

Naia blinked in realization.

“I was here with Roman. Where is he?! Is he hurt?! Did Trent shoot him?!”

Delia placed a calming hand on Naia’s shoulder.

“All will be revealed shortly. I promise.”

Naia took a shaky breath then nodded.

“Now come sit with me. We have much to discuss.”

Naia followed Delia to a bench that appeared out of nowhere. When they sat down Delia cocked her head to the side at Naia curiously. Making her feel super awkward.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No. I’m just curious about you. You’re as beautiful as I imagined you’d be.”

Naia couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up on her face.

“A ghost just called me beautiful. I must be hallucinating.”

Delia chuckled.

“You said we had much to discuss. What are we discussing?”

“You, my dear. Your connection to the town, the people, and especially Roman.”

“I mean I’ve been in town for a few months. I don’t know anyone outside of my uncle Trent and the Pack.”

Delia nods.

“And what are your impressions of them so far?”

Naia chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course dear. That’s why we are here.”

“I understand why my mom doesn’t want me around Roman. Because to be honest, he’s terrifying. But at the same time…I can’t stay away from him. I can’t get enough of him. He makes me feel safe. And loved. And wanted. And I…”

“Yes?”

“I care about him. A lot. But I don't know if I'm ready to give up my life for him. I don't know if I'm ready to be his mate.”

Deli nodded.

“It is a lot to ask of a young woman. I would know.”

“How did you decide Delia? Or was it decided for you?”

Delia chuckles softly.

“It wasn’t my intent to be Xander’s mate when I first came to Hunt’s Peak.”

Naia blinked in confusion.

“You’re not from Hunt’s Peak?”

“No. Originally from the Pittsburgh area.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I grew up in foster care so it wasn’t like many had missed me when I left.”

“So what brought you to Hunt’s Peak?”

“I was hired as a 5th teacher. I loved my job. Teaching children became my passion.”

“And how did you meet Xander?”

“I’ve always been a Wolfkin and I knew it was my destiny to become the mate to a member of The Pack but I never thought I would be Xander’s mate. But to answer your question, I was walking along the creek when I saw him and his father Ferdinand. We were smitten at first sight.”

“Oh…did his father accept you?”

“Yes, he did. And after some convincing so did his mother Cecilia.”

“When did Xander become Alpha?”

“Shortly after we met. Maybe 6 months or so.”

“Is that when you became his mate?”

“Yes. He courted me until he became Alpha.”

“Courted how?”

Delia smiled as if lost in a memory.

“He would come by the school. Regale my students in wild tales of werewolves as knights and kings and sorceresses and sorcerers. That sort of thing. But the biggest thing he did for me, was he planted a single night flower and let it blossom into a field full of them.”

“Sounds like he was a romantic at heart.”

“He used to be but when he became Alpha, responsibility and obligation replaced flowers and romance.”

“Was it hard?”

“No. Not at first. I always understood my role as The Alpha’s mate. And I cherished it. Becoming a sort of Den Mother gave me a purpose.”

“What changed?”

Delia looked at Naia with a new curiosity.

“He met your mother.”

Naia swallowed.

“Mommy told me how she met him.”

“I remember that. I remember when he told her no at first. I was furious at him. So I not so subtly encouraged him to reconsider not protecting her and your uncle.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Your mother was a child at the time. And your uncle couldn’t protect her as he should have. Only Xander and The Pack could do that.”

“She also told me about the day he offered her The Pack’s protection.”

“I remember when Xander told me about Bobby Giles threatening her. He was furious and I was disgusted. But we both knew that he couldn't just charge into town and rid it of him. Well, he could but it wasn't in his nature at the time. So he sent a few wolves in their human forms to investigate.”

“She told me that too. And the time that Bobby pulled a gun out on Xander.”

Delia snickered.

“The fool. He believed that his gun would scare Xander. But he learned the hard way that day.”

Naia shifted in her seat.

“Mommy showed me the necklace that Xander gave her.”

“I know about that. He gave it to her on her 18th birthday.”

“She also said that she was bonded to him.”

“She's right. She was bonded to him until he died.”

“Are you angry about that?”

Delia went quiet

“To be honest, I was very angry with her. Jaded and bitter even. But I realized after she left that my anger was misplaced.”

“Misplaced how?”

“After she left I found out that Xander was telling her that she was to be his new mate. And at that time your mother was a young impressionable girl.”

“He was manipulating her?”

“Yes, he played with her heart and preyed on it.”

“My God. Why did you stay with him for so long?”

“I was bound by Pack Law to stay with my mate until his death.”

Naia shuddered.

“Will that happen to me?”

“If you choose to be Roman’s mate you are bound by Pack Law to be at his side until his death.”

“Well, that explains what my mom said about you and Xander being married on paper.”

Delia nodded.

“If I was the mate of any other Pack member I could leave. But I was Xander’s mate. As was your mother. As yet…”

“She ran away.”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me about Xander?”

“What would you like to know?”

“What did he look like?”

Delia waves a hand and a picture of Xander materialized in front of them.

“Whoa…”

“That is Xander in all his glory.”

“He and Roman look just alike.”

Delia smiled softly.

“Yes. He has his father's looks and stubbornness but he also has my heart.”

“Will I meet Xander?”

“No my dear. You won't.”

“Crisis averted.”

“So, will you be Roman’s mate or will you go back to your life as a human woman?”

Just as Naia was about to speak another panel appeared in front of her and Delia.

“What's this?”

“Roman. He's trying to connect to you through your bond. We are about to look at life through his eyes. These panels that appear are what life is like.”

“Why can’t he connect with me?”

Instead of responding, Delia put a finger to her lips then pointed to the panel. When Naia looked at the panel she was transported into Roman’s mind.

She and Delia were looking at a memory of them.

She had convinced Layla to let her turn Buck’s into a mini-movie theater for the pups and their parents. To give them something fun to do. When Roman heard about it he was both curious and thrilled. The girls decided on watching Lion King. With Gino and popcorn in hand, Naia snuggled next to Roman.

“So this movie is about…cats?”

“The circle of life. And lions.”

“…lions are cats are they not?”

Naia shook her head at the memory before turning to Delia.

“I remember this.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. It was the day I learned that your son doesn’t like my impressions.”

Delia chuckled. They turned back to the memory and as they did, they came upon Naia’s impression of one of her favorite scenes in the movie.

“Hyenas. I hate hyenas. So what’s your plan for getting past those guys?”

“Live bait.”

“Good idea!…hey!”

“Come on Timon, you guys have to create a diversion.”

“What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?”

Roman groaned.

“Are you going to be like this the rest of the movie?”

“What? Gino likes my impression. You don’t like my impression?”

“…no.”

“Everyone’s a damn critic.”

Roman rolled his eyes. But he would soon find out which scene is her favorite scene in the whole movie.

“Hey! Who’s the pig?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Uh oh! Did he call him a pig?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Shouldn’t have done that!”

“Are you talking to me?!”

“Now they’re in for it!”

“They call me: Mr. Pig!”

And just as she got Pumbaa’s yell Roman clamped a hand to her mouth.

“Beloved…how am I to enjoy this movie you’ve chosen with your incessant talking?”

Naia just giggled as the panel changed to a more recent memory. One that Naia didn’t recognize.

“My…room?”

“Yes, my dear. This was just a few days ago.”

“But I don’t remember this.”

“Because you aren’t there.”

“What?! What do you mean?”

Delia pointed to the panel as it showed Roman walking into her room. He looked distraught as he looked around. Naia could feel his anguish in her chest. When his eyes fell on Gino sitting on the bed, she felt tears on her cheek as he held Gino close to his chest.

“I don’t understand.”

“The one he considers to be his mate is missing.”

“His mate? You mean me?”

“Yes, my dear.”

“But why is he looking for me?”

“Because your bond with him is disrupted. He’s trying to reconnect with you.”

“But why?”

Delia turned back to the panel as it showed Roman in wolf form curled up on her bed with Gino under his jaw. She felt his agony and his pain as well as his longing as he whimpered. He was missing her. He was needing her. Her presence. Her smile. Her laugh. It broke her heart. She stood up shouting to the panel.

“Roman! Roman! I'm here! I'm right here!”

Delia put a hand on her shoulder.

“He can't hear you. This is only a vision of what has already been.”

Naia turned to Delia with pleading in her eyes.

“You said that he couldn’t connect to me, why can’t he connect to me?”

With a wave of a hand another panel appeared. This one showed Naia lying in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV with her mother at her side.

“I–I–I…it can’t be! You said I wasn’t dead!”

“You aren’t Naia. You’ve been injected with Wolfbane. It’s a toxin that can be deadly but thankfully you were taken to the hospital in time to save you.”

“Injected?! How?!”

“You don’t remember?”

Naia stood there confused until it hit her.

“The tranquilizer dart! The one that Trent was using! Am I right?”

Delia nodded.

“If I’m on an IV then why haven’t I woken up?”

“Because the spirits aren’t ready for you to wake up yet.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Delia looked at Naia.

“Answer this. Why do you think you’re here?”

Naia didn't know how to answer that question.

“I don't know.”

As soon as those words left her mouth another panel appeared. This one was of Trent after he left the hospital. He was in his boss’s office going off about Wolfbane.

“What is wrong with you Moses?!”

“The tranquilizer! You said it was harmless!”

“It is harmless! It effects those beasts and their ability to shift!”

“What about humans?”

“It doesn’t effect humans!”

Trent eyed him with an intense yet calm fury.

“What is Wolfbane?”

Bernard blinked in confusion.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Answer the question!”

“It’s the name of the tranquilizer. It doesn’t effect humans.”

“Yes it does.”

“No it does not!”

Trent pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Naia was hit by one of the tranquilizer darts.”

“The young woman you brought here the other day?”

“Yes. She collapsed after being hit and is now in the hospital fighting for her life. According to her mother Wolfbane is a poison that you and Xander created.”

Bernard looked at Trent genuinely confused.

“Her mother?”

“I didn't stutter.”

“What was her last name again?”

“Evans.”

“I knew someone with that last name but it was a he not a she.”

“Probably her dad. Her mother’s maiden name is Roberts.”

Bernard’s face lit up.

“Roberts? As in Laurie Roberts? Zane Roberts sister?”

“Yes.”

“I knew that girl looked familiar!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know her mother. Which means Xander was right. She did run off with Evans. I can’t believe she finally came back home.”

“Is what her mother said true? That you created this with Xander?”

“Yes it is but he took it too far. It wasn’t designed to be lethal. I tried to stop him but you can see what good it did.”

“So Xander truly was a monster?”

“Ohhh yes my boy. A monster indeed.”

As she watched with Delia, Naia wasn’t entirely convinced that Bernard was totally innocent.

“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.”

“That’s Bernard Sayre for you.”

“Has he always been this way?”

“Oh yes. Even when I was amongst the living he and especially his motives were always questionable.”

“Why does the town let him do what he does?”

“Only the town can answer that.”

“I guess…”

The panel showed Trent in his cabin sitting on his couch with a bottle in his hand. Naia could feel his guilt and shame as well as his anger. His anger at his boss and anger at himself. He didn’t mean to hurt her. She just came out of nowhere. By the time he pulled the trigger it was too late. He didn't see her at first but when she dropped to the ground his heart dropped when she did. He wanted to be there at the hospital with her. To tell her how sorry he was. How much she means to him. How he wishes he could take it all back.

But at that moment he couldn't. All he could do was wallow in his festering grief and simmering anger. The same as Roman. This war had taken away a lot for both of them but this was the final straw. Trent wasn't about to lose to Roman again. And Roman had finally had enough of Trent being a thorn in his side. Both had subconsciously decided that this was an all-out war.

All of it broke Naia.

“They aren't serious are they?”

“Yes. Both are hurt and angry. Both at themselves and each other.”

“But I don't want this! I don't want them fighting!”

“Then you've found your reason for being here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me why you were brought here. My dear, you were brought here to heal what is broken.”

“You mean Roman and Trent?”

“And your family. Your mother, especially.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes. She is hurting. And angry. And confused. And you are the key to healing her wounds. And theirs.”

Naia nodded.

“How do I do that?”

“You can start by answering your mother’s prayer.”

Delia turned back to the panel that showed Laurie. When Naia looked up, her mother was holding the necklace that Xander gave her. She looking out of the window to the moon in the sky.

“Spirits of the earth,

I don't know if you can hear me or that I even have the right to ask this. But I come to you with a simple prayer. I ask you to heal my daughter. She doesn't deserve to be here. She doesn't deserve this. She's innocent. If you're angry with me for abandoning The Pack and my duties as Xander’s mate I understand. But I beg you! Don't make my daughter suffer because of me. I beg you, please bring her back to me. Let her eyes open again. Let her speak again. I just want my little girl back. I need her back. Please! Heal her.”

Delia turned to Naia with a question.

“Now that you know your purpose, are you ready my dear?”

“Yes. I am ready to heal all that is broken.”

Delia waved her hand and the panels disappeared. They were replaced by a doorway.

“Then go. Your mother is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Delia.”

Delia smiled at her.

“You're welcome, my dear. Tell my son that I miss him and that I love him and that I'm sorry.”

Naia smiled at her.

“I will.”

Naia stepped through the doorway and was transported back to her hospital room, just as her mother finished praying. She had moved her head slightly which both startled and excited Laurie.

“Naia? Naia baby are you awake?”

Naia’s eyes fluttered open and when she spoke her voice was weak.

“Mommy…”

Laurie had tears in her eyes.

“I'm here baby. I'm right here.”

Laurie was overcome with joy and relief.

“You came back to me!”

“I missed you, mommy.”

“I missed you too, baby girl.”

“We…have…much…to…talk…about.”

Laurie nodded resolutely.

“Yes, we do. It's time for you to know the true reason why I left.”

#choices #khoicesbyk #pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #fanfic #wolf bride

[bungou-stray-dogs-indulgences]

Hi Kenzi! (i hope it's okay to use your name haha) I was just wondering if you have any writing tips, because I wanna improve but I'm kinda lost on where to begin...writing is hard...

Of course! (And I actually love when you guys use my name, it feels much more personal and not like I’m just a faceless blogger throwing words at the internet.)

In general:

Keeping a commonplace book, which is simply a journal to write down quality writing you may find, is the best way to learn by ‘osmosis’. It’s the same idea as ‘if you want to write better, read good books’, except I like this method better because it’s more concrete, and helps you narrow in on the single best parts of a piece, rather than trying to learn from the whole. Any poems, sentences, or even entire short stories that blow you away, should be kept in a commonplace book for future reference. (I write down a lot of words I like, too: all of the words I zero in on during this Oda piece are ripped straight from my commonplace book.)

While reading, look for both the best and worst parts in a piece. No, I am not telling you to tear apart other people’s work, and you should not ever criticize unless someone specifically asks you what needs improving. With that said, finding weak points (and yes, we ALL have weak points) can help you avoid, or find and eliminate, those same weak points in your own writing. When you zero in on a high point, or strength, analyze what makes that part so amazing, and try to apply some of that to create high points in your own writing. 

Cut it out with the self-deprecation. Staying humble is important, and if you think you’re the best that’s out there, you’re never going to improve; but saying ‘omgomg this is so bad I’m the worst writer ever’ about everything you write is just as bad a stumbling block. Think of it this way; if you want to make a sculpture, you’re going to buy clay, or plaster, not solidified shit. Even if you carve something magical out of feces, it’s still going to be disgusting because it’s feces. Clay, while it might not be gorgeous at first, can be fashioned into a masterpiece. So, think of yourself as clay-maybe not the best, but not garbage, either- instead of shit-literally the worst ever- and you’ll create a positive mindset that allows for rapid improvement.

Keep excellent books in your writing area. When I’m feeling stuck, browsing a page or two of good writing can get the creative juices flowing.

Beg for constructive criticism. Does it hurt to have your writing picked apart and deemed insufficient? Absolutely. Swallow your pride, though, and ask what needs reworking, and your writing will improve by leaps and bounds.

In Actual Writing

Show, don’t tell. You’ve heard this billions of times, but its importance never fades. If I wanted to be told something straight up, I’d read a textbook. When writing for entertainment, you need to let the readers draw conclusions by themselves. This engages and enthralls them, and they’ll be hanging on your words. If you need help with this: scan your writing for the word ‘feel’. This is usually an indicator you’re telling. Ex: “She felt like she was going to be sick.” Yawn. Try this: “Stomach churning, she leaned against the wall, silently praying for her breakfast not to decorate the carpet.”  

Avoid adverbs. No, I’m not one of the ‘death to all adverbs grrrr’ people, but usually an adverb-verb pair can be swapped for a strong verb. Ex: “He laughed scornfully.” Bland, at best. Try: He scoffed, He jeered, or He derided.

Go into a piece assuming your reader knows nothing, but is devilishly smart. Not only will this help you avoid telling, and not showing, it also prevents from showing your hand too quickly. Picture that you’re James Moriarty, and you’re writing to Sherlock Holmes. You want to give him just enough information to play whatever game you’ve set up, but not see through and solve it without diving in. You and your readers are playing a game in which you want them to have a hundred ideas what may happen next, but never one, solid prediction. As soon as the reader figures out exactly what’s going on, you’ve lost. (This is not to recommend plot points coming out of the blue. Anything that may happen, or be important, needs to also have a set-up or it’s a cop-out. Play the ‘game’ with your readers, and play to win, but play fair.)

Cut out any sentences beginning with ‘There is.’ That construction breeds weak sentences, which you want to avoid with fiery passion. Other things to eschew: ambiguous subjects (i.e. it, that; use a specific object!), passive voice (’The enemy was defeated’; change to, ‘The enemy suffered defeat’), and using the same word in consecutive sentences (Mary was a cat lady. She owned many cats. Thesaurus.com is your best friend when you’re struggling with this.)

Follow these rules, and your writing will improve by leaps and bounds. Keep in mind that the number one rule, even if I didn’t get into it, is to practice, practice, practice. It’s self-explanatory enough that I don’t feel the need to elaborate.

I hope this helps, and good luck in your future writing endeavors!

#Not Imagines #Writing Tips #Admin Kenzi crawls out of the darkness