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deadfloweremojii · 3 years

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Every Morning Felt the Same

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𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Slight Yuki x F!Reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Angst

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: akito being akito

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3884

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I wrote this a while ago and I had no idea how long it was until now! After starting the final season I came back to it and spiffed it up a little and well... here it is!

Feel free to send requests!

Fic below the cut

I was walking to school as I normally do; listening to music. Left turn, right turn, wait at the light. Every morning felt the same. However ever since the beginning of this year I have started coming out of my shell. As unapproachable the girls have made Yuki Sohma we have somehow become rather good friends. It was awkward at first but I’ve gotten used to the staring from the “Prince Yuki Fan Club” garbage. It wasn’t as if I liked him, we were just close friends. I have gotten to know him and his friends over the last few months. Yuki and his cousin Kyo have a very interesting dynamic to say the least. It seems as if they are cat and mouse, but the mouse always outsmarts the cat.

It was finally time to go home; I could be considered lucky in that regard. I am an exchange student. I have my own student apartment that the school pays for me to live in. It can get fairly lonely on the weekends or during breaks. I’m fairly introverted and only really talk to Yuki and Co. during the school day. My japanese can be pretty rough at times, but I understand enough to get by. With winter break coming up I was preparing to celebrate New Years by myself like I have the past few years. It’s just not worth it to go home for the holidays; the break is too short to make the price tag worth it. I almost have grown to love being by myself; after a long day at school the silence is calming.

My normal path home is fairly straightforward, but the idea of the upcoming holiday clouded my mind. I had somehow ended up walking past my usual turn without realizing and continued on into the forest on the outskirts of the town. A cold gust of air brought me out of my trance; I looked around wildly unfamiliar with my surroundings. As I turned on my heels to go back the way I came; to my utter disbelief a white snake blocked my path.

Now I didn’t hate snakes, but I admired them from afar or held well handled pets. Very unlike any snake, or wild animal, I’ve ever seen it slithered up to me. I didn’t want to startle it, on the off chance it’s hungry so I stood as still as possible gripping my school bag against my chest. A cool scaly feeling enveloped my calf, as the snake slithered up it. I gripped my eyes shut, praying it just went away after realizing I was not edible. Then it dawned on me, it was below freezing, and snakes are cold blooded… and I’m warm blooded… NOW I'M A SPACE HEATER FOR A SNAKE!

I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped my lips as I felt the snake take refuge under my shirt. Whether it be divine intervention or my (un)lucky day a man came walking toward me on the frozen path. He was dressed in a simple yukata with shaggy black hair. He looked at me calmly and then to my… chest? HE’S LOOKING AT MY BOOBS! I looked down as I saw a little snake head pop up. He’s looking at the snake… Why is the snake looking back at him?

“I see you got yourself into a situation” the man laughed. He didn’t seem to be speaking to me, but almost to the snake?

“Yes, uh… please help” I whispered. I didn’t want to bother the snake for fear of it biting me. In my awkward fear I happened to answer in english instead of japanese. The man tilted his head, and I just assumed he didn’t understand me. I opened my mouth to repeat myself, but he cut me off.

“You’re y/n, right?” He said back in perfect english. “Yuki’s friend from school”. He talks about me?

“Yes, sir.” I said. “Is there any way you can help me? I switched the conversation back to japanese. It always felt rude to make someone accommodate me, even if I wasn't the best speaker.

“Come down the road to the house with me. I can help you better there” He chuckled. “And don’t worry about how you speak. Do what is most comfortable.”

We trotted along the path rather slowly, I did not want the snake to fall or worse. It was only a couple minutes. We exchanged pleasantries. The man was Shigure-san Yuki and Kyo’s uncle who they lived with. From my time being friends with them I’ve only really heard Tohru mention him a few times. I never really hear the boys talk about their family, it seems to be a touchy subject.

We finally arrived at the house. It was pretty nice considering it was in the middle of the woods. As we got inside the snake slithered down my leg and decided that the house was his now. I relaxed my tense muscles. I guess I didn’t have to stay very long. I looked around, still standing in the entryway. I noticed Kyo sitting at the low table and I smiled politely at him. He looked up when he heard the commotion.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, shocked. It seems visitors are not abundant here. “What did you do to her?!” he yelled at Shigure-san.

“Nothing! Why would I do anything to one of Yuki’s beloved friends?” Shigure shrugged off.

“Oh, um there was a snake…” I started. Yuki had just entered the room. He looked up when he heard the word snake.

“A snake here is it now, y/n-san?” he looked around… angrily? “What did it look like?” He blurted. I wasn’t very used to Yuki not being calm and collected. This was definitely a change of pace for him. I guess he really doesn’t like snakes. As I was about to open my mouth to answer, another boisterous man with long silver hair burst into the room

“Yuki-kun! Have you missed me? I wanted to come visit you but it was so cold! Without this fine lady I would have never made it” he swoons. The man walked over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the house, my shoes left in the entryway.

“Aw sweet, y/n-chan” He started, bringing my hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “Thank you so much for your kind nature! Without you I would surely have been left for dead”

Dead? I thought. I don’t recognize him, he kind of looks like Yuki. I don’t think I’ve ever met him. How does he know my name? The only thing I carried here was…

“The snake.” I whispered. I looked up to see familiar yellow orbs. “You… you were the s..snake” I stammered. “How is that even possible, humans can’t be snakes, snakes are snakes” I gripped my hair in my hands as I thought how this could ever be possible.

“My sweet love, don’t grip your beautiful hair” he said as he went to grab my hands. Both Yuki and Kyo shoved themselves between me and the strange man.

“Don’t touch her” Yuki said sternly. He shoved me behind him. I lost my balance and fell into his back. I heard a pop and a cloud of smoke appeared as I fell into nothing. In front of me was a little silver… rat?

“What?” I gasped. At this point I just assumed I was dreaming. “Are you supposed to be Yuki-kun now? I guess you are kind of cute.” I whispered as I scooped up the little thing. Kyo turned to Shigure- san.

“Look what you caused?” He yelled. “And you” he turned to the other man. “What the hell were you thinking?!” Shigure sighed. Looking at the man with his hand scratching his head.

“Well Ayame, I guess we got into an even worse situation” He laughs.

…..

“A curse?” I whisper. The Sohma’s had explained everything to me. I finally now realize more than I did before. Why Yuki was so shy, how Tohru acted when I talked about their home life. Why Kyo always seemed on edge. All of this bewildered me.

“So now what?” I asked shyly. “I promise I won’t say anything to anyone of course! I… I just don’t really know what to say” I looked down into my lap.

“Time to call Hatori I guess,” Shigure-san said as he stood up. Everyone had a solemn look on their face.

“Who is that?” I asked slightly afraid. “Am… am I going to die?” I looked up nervously into Shigure-sans eyes as mine began to water. “I… I promise, please” Tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Tohru, who had come home in the middle of this, offered me a tissue.

“Of course not y/n-chan” He said looking down seriously. “We just can’t have people knowing is all.” Ayame-san caressed my face and wiped away my tears.

“Do not worry, not a pretty little hair on your head will be harmed” He whispered to me. Yuki snatched me away from him.

“This is your fault to begin with.” Yuki said sternly. “Without your whole scheme we would have never been in this mess” This continues on for a while, Yuki being mad at what I now learned is his older brother, and Ayame begging Yuki to forgive him while still being a strange sort of arrogant. I just sat with Tohru, watching the whole thing unfold. Kyo had gone out shortly after this began, Tohru mentioned a Sensei so I assume it was martial art practice of some sort. Ayame-san turned to me and Tohru.

“I have an excellent idea” He sang out, almost twirling over to the two of us. “If we pretend to be together, there is a chance it will be okay!”

“T...Together? What do you mean by that?” I looked up at him, my eyes still a little puffy from before. “Like dating?” Shigure-san just walked back into the room as those words left my mouth.

“Who are you dating now? Ayame? So scandalous!” He wiggled. Yuki facepalmed, fed up with everything.

“You can’t think that’s possibly a good idea.” Yuki sighed. “First of all, I don’t want you anywhere near her, and second you’re almost twice her age. That would never work”

“An apprentice with benefits then!” Ayame hoisted me up and twirled me around. His arm wrapped around my shoulder but not enough to where our bodies were touching. His hand picked my chin up to look at him.

“Look at those sad e/c eyes.” he sighed. “You need some excitement in your life” He whispered in my ear. Yuki pulled me away from his clutches and looked into my eyes.

“Don’t listen to him.” He warned. His eyes were filled with pain. I wondered if this had happened to him before. Tohru seemed to know and be fine, so why couldn't I?

“I don’t want to lose my friends” My eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know what to do, I don't want to hurt you or your family, and I don’t want to lose you” I sob. I couldn't think straight enough to worry about japanese or anything for that matter. “I’ll do anything to just not be alone again”

The room was silent apart from my sniffling. The mood shifted to a depressing tone. Reality had sunk in. The Shomas realized either they try this or let this girl forget. I looked up over everyone.

“I’ll try anything”

…..

Over the last month going to work with Ayame-san was almost tiring. Although he seemed like an airhead, there is definitely something going on in his head that I just can’t guess. I assume it comes with his whole family dynamic. Although I was supposed to be his assistant, I feel like he was holding out for the whole “pretending to be dating” thing. Thank god he couldn’t touch me without becoming a snake; although that did happen a few times. Ayame-san as often as he could would be sure to “teach me” and “guide me” to what I needed to do. Mine-san seemed to keep him in check when we were in the studio, but when we had to run errands it was definitely towing the line.

Yuki always asked if I was okay first thing every morning before homeroom, and walked me home after I was done with Ayame-san every night. I assured him everything was fine. I didn’t want to lose my friends. It wasn’t that bad, it could be annoying at times but I feel like I learned a lot about myself and how to sew; so that's a plus.

One particular night after my apprenticeship, Mine-san pulled me aside. “y/n-chan, you’re doing really well. Most girls would have run for the hills by now!” she laughed. “You’ve gone from this shy little thing, to a young woman who can hold her own!”

“y/n-Chan!” rang out a familiar sing-song voice. Ayame-san waltzed out of the studio. “Do you think you can do me a favor?!” He sang out.

“I guess it depends on what it is exactly, Ayame-san.” I huff looking down the road seeing Yuki walking towards us.

“Well, I’ve been called to the estate. I was wondering if you would like to join me. Shigure said I should bring you!” He grabbed onto my arm and gave me puppy dog eyes. “You can meet Hatori!” Ayame chirped.

“Well I guess I can. If you really want me too” I said as Yuki neared closer. “I'll see you tomorrow then Ayame-san.” I called out as I ran towards Yuki.

“What was that about?” Yuki questioned as we walked towards my apartment. I hopped onto a small wall lining the sidewalk. With my arms out for balance I continued in front of him, spinning on the balls of my feet and walking backwards while facing him.

“He invited me to the estate with him and Shigure-san.” I replied, stopping in my tracks. “I said I would go.” I looked down at him nervously.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea y/n-san?” He looked up at me. He looked rather worried. I was starting to think that saying yes may not have been my brightest idea.

…..

The Saturday morning sun crept into my apartment window. I knew today was going to be… interesting. Shigure-san was nice enough to let me come over in the morning to figure everything out. Ayame-san told me he would have something for me to wear for dinner. Seeing his tastes in clothing it probably was not going to be fun.

When I arrived at the house, it was as rambunctious as always. Yuki and Kyo were lost in one of their usual arguments. They didn’t notice that I entered the house. Shigure-san looked up from his paper and smiled in my direction.

“Good morning, y/n-chan.” he chimed. The two boys looked over in the midst of fighting. I’ve seen them argue but I’ve never seen them fight. Both boys were breathing heavily; sweat rolling down their foreheads. This was rather surprising, Yuki is normally so calm, and collected. Over the past month I’ve learned more about him and my friends. Spending more time with him has made our friendship stronger. Although, it seems to be different now. Yuki has expressed his distrust of his brother. He has even started walking me to the shop, and even to school since my apartment is on the way. I’ve enjoyed spending more time with him… almost more than before. I shook my head at this thought.

“Is everything okay?” He asks endearingly, giving me a smirk. “Ready for your date with Ayame-san?” I blushed bright red at that comment.

“Uh… well… I didn’t think of it that way” I stammered. I brought my hand up to the back of my head, rubbing it sheepishly. Yuki snapped his head over to Shigure-san.

“No way, is that what he thinks is going to work” He seethed. “She never would have agreed to that if those were the terms. Isn't that right y/n-san?” Yuki looked at you sincerely.

“Well I… I wasn’t aware of that. I just assumed it was to meet Hatori-san” I looked down at my feet.

“Don’t worry kids” Shigure-san said as he resumed his paper “It’s just a ploy to allow y/n-chan to the Sohma estate.”

“So I have to pretend I’m dating Ayame-san in order to go?” I looked at Shigure. “Why did no one tell me” I huffed. He looked up at me and smiled.

“Because you wouldn’t have agreed otherwise”

…..

After a “fun” day at the Sohma house it was finally time. Ayame-san arrived with a bag with my name on it to wear. I looked inside; it looked like the pieces of a kimono. I looked up at him.

“I’ve never worn one before… I’m not sure how” I said shyly. Ayame-san snaked an arm around my shoulders.

“That’s okay my love, I can help you put it on for you.” he said coyly. Shigure-san also stood up. “What about me?” he added. Yuki came to my side and took my hand. He dragged you away from the men and up the stairs.

“Or I guess he could.” Shigure-san said defeatedly.

I have never been upstairs in the house before. It wasn't anything special, just everyone's rooms. Yuki still hasn’t said anything as he basically dragged me to his...room. I’m in his room. Those “Prince Yuki” bitches would pay thousands to be in my shoes right now.

“You can change here if you want.” He said shyly. Yuki looked away and blushed. “Tohru isn’t here, otherwise you’d be in her room.”

“I… I don’t know how to put it on” I stammered. “I need help” I looked down at my feet. Yuki took his hand under my chin and pointed it up. His gray eyes looking into my e/c ones.

“I’ll try my best.” He smiled. “There’s no reason for you to be embarrassed, Ayame should have known better. It was definitely one of his tricks.”

Yuki left the room to allow me to get the under clothes on. Once I was done I let him back in. The kimono almost felt like a large sweater. The material was soft and airy. Yuki with his cheeks dusted red, reached around me to gather the material in the way it needed to be. He tied a sort of belt near my waist to gather the fabric. It was not as difficult as I thought it would have been, but I would not have been able to do it correctly myself.

“Thank you, Yuki-san” I said as I pinned my hair up. I looked over at him and smiled brightly.

“Anytime y/n-san” he smiled back blush still sprinkling his cheeks.

…..

The Shoma Estate was huge. I felt like a small child as we approached. Shigure and Ayame walked in front of me, laughing about something or other. My nerves were boiling up, Kyo mentioned how intimidating it can be, especially if you looked out of place. Shigure-san looked back at me and noticed I was staring at the ground. He nudged Ayame-san's arm and pointed back at me. He twirled around towards me and latched onto my arm.

“You’re my date! You should at least look happy” He sang out. I looked around to see some women walking, giving me a disapproving glare.

“I guess I’m just nervous” I squeak. “This place is kind of intimidating” Shigure-san fell into step with us.

“Don’t worry y/n-chan” Shigure-san said “Everything will be alright in the end” He smiled. We arrived at the place we were supposed to meet. It was such a large house. I don’t think I’ve seen one this large since moving from the states. Once we entered, a man greeted us in the entryway.

“Ah Hatori!” Ayame-san said. “How are you! I’ve missed you!” he cried out as he went to hug him. Hatori side stepped and Ayame fell to the floor.

“I assume you’re y/n-chan” Hatori-san said to me.

“Yes, sir” I replied with a bow. Hatori shuffled us into the house and into a traditional dining room. Ayame-san and I sat down together. Hatori stopped Shigure in the doorway.

“Shigure, do you really think this is okay?” Hatori whispered.

“I sure hope so.” He replied.

…..

Dinner went well. It was just the four of us. I was so worried that there was going to be a huge amount of people. I’m so glad there wasn’t. The three men had been drinking, however Hatori-san seemed to be the only one with any sense left. Shigure and Ayame were being as loud as ever, saying risque things towards me.

As we were getting ready to leave, I heard a crash through the house. The sliding door was slammed open and a thin figure was hanging on to the door frame. Hatori immediately jumped to his feet and walked over to the person. The light in the hallway was off so it was hard to see. Shigure-san almost seemed to sober up as this was happening and got up and walked into the other room.

“Let me see her.” the person said as they clawed at the door frame. It looked like they could barely stand. Their robe falling off their shoulder allowed me to see just how thin they were. I shuffled back on the floor only stopping when I hit the wall.

“Let me see her.” they said again menacingly. Hatori-san looked over to me, there was pain in his eyes. I understood he couldn’t do much to stop them.

My heart raced as they came over. They grabbed my face leaving nail marks on my cheeks. My eyes started to water. I had no idea what was going on let alone what to do.

“What’s your name?” they seethed

“y/n” I squealed out meekly.

“You know they don’t like you. They never will. You should just stop trying” they dropped my face and I fell to my knees. I couldn’t stop the tears. Yuki burst through the door and looked on in horror.

“You’re right.” I whispered. Their words resonated with me. I wasn’t part of their world. They had so much more on their plate with Tohru already. They don’t need to worry about me. The person said something to Hatori that I didn’t understand and left the room. Yuki looked at me with tears in his eyes as he crouched in front of me. My tears fell like waterfalls as I cried into my hands.

“I’m so sorry, y/n-san. You should have never been a part of this,” he whispered as he grabbed my hands. “I really did like you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I’ll never forget you” he kissed my forehead.

Hatori helped me get to my feet and brought me into another room. I closed my eyes as I wiped the tears away.

…..

I was walking to school as I normally do; listening to music. Left turn, right turn, wait at the light. Every morning felt the same.

#fruits basket #fruits basket the final #fruits basket angst #yuki sohma #kyo sohma #yuki x reader #yuki angst #momiji sohma #tohru honda #fruits basket 2019 #akito sohma #furuba

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evilmortys · 3 years

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okay, so, here are my thoughts on the finale,

i’m gonna start with the things i didn’t like, just because of who i am as a person! my feelings are mixed, but... looks lovingly at evil morty. he truly was the only exception as usual ♥

i’m not going to lie, this whole thing felt. rushed. although some of rick’s meta commentary about not touching citadel shit because it was canon and he and morty were supposed to be going back to lighthearted one off adventures, and “the second he reveals that he’s evil, we’re out” made me laugh, it also felt very disingenuous and ham-fisted. having him do all these fourth wall breaks honestly took away from the impact of what this episode could have been, but whatever.

i just got the vibe that they wanted everyone to stfu about the citadel and evil morty, so they quickly stuck together this episode that dealt with fans’ demand in one fell swoop so they could move on from the existence of both plotlines. i honestly thought it was a bit wasteful since tales from the citadel resonated with a lot of fans and it was an interesting bit of worldbuilding with compelling narratives going on.

you already all likely know how irritated i am with morty’s character degrading so much once again. this entire season has been building him up to becoming so much more capable, only to wrench it away from him again by instead having his co-dependency with rick ramped up to the point it was literally out of character. this has come out of nowhere. at no point in the show’s entire run has morty ever been this needy with rick.

again, i feel like this may have been written around what eventually ended up happening at the citadel, with the revelation that mortys are ‘bred for forgiveness.’ it would have been far more compelling for our morty to have continued to go down the path of being decidedly unforgiving of rick’s bullshit, thereby making him deviate from the norm in a similar way to evil morty himself and implicating that the cycle of a morty going to these extremes is going to be repeated once again.

rick did not deserve or earn voicing the recognition that his dynamic with morty was toxic, and abusive. are you fucking kidding me? the smartest man in the universe only JUST clocked onto that? bullshit! he’s known all along, and he’s been using it for his own gain! he doesn’t get to just say it with that regretful voice as if he’s been clueless / oblivious to it this entire time. they just wanted the audience to feel sympathetic for him by throwing in this tidbit and a tragic backstory, as if that even sort of makes up for everything he’s put his family through.

abandoning the people you’ve hurt is ALSO abusive and toxic behaviour! he’s done it time and time again! how is acknowledging the fact that you hurt people, that you hurt your family, the people that love you despite the fact you objectively don’t deserve it, then ditching them once again instead of staying with them and improving as a person and helping everyone heal from what you’ve put them through, ANY BETTER?? he never changes!!

i also couldn’t really process the fact that rick just handed morty his portal gun like it was nothing-- i feel like him topping it off and using it behind rick’s back should have been a bigger deal than what it was. also, morty would not break a guy out of a mental asylum without a second thought. he simply wouldn’t do that.

we’ve fallen right back into the status quo of morty being stupid and rick being the smartest one in the room who always knows what’s going on, even when he actually shouldn’t for the sake of a few meta jokes. which is more annoying than i can put into words tbqh

obviously i hated all the parallels they were attempting to make between rick and morty having a romantic relationship and “breaking up.” never has morty behaved so uncharacteristically in any other episode of the show. it honestly felt disrespectful to all the growth he’s had as a character to reduce him to something so pathetic.

i guess this is less of a thing i disliked, and more of a commentary on rick’s character? but once again, his hypocrisy really leapt out at me once it was revealed that he always has a hand in bringing together beths and jerrys in order to ensure that more mortys will end up in the multiverse. i find it unbelievably sad that he’ll willingly ensnare the two of them in the throes of a relationship that he knows is likely to become toxic and cause the both of them to be miserable throughout their time together; they’re rarely happy / compatible together and always end up sticking it out for the kids. it also makes his constant shitting on jerry even more egregious and almost serves to call his love for his daughter into question for me. he’s using her as a means to his own ends by manipulating situations so she’ll meet jerry and they’ll likely end up together.

don’t get me wrong, i actually really loved the fact he had a hand in founding the citadel he now loathes so much, and i think the constant creation of mortys as grandsons ‘bred to forgive’ ricks is so fucked up and awful in the most intriguing way. it’s akin to him fiddling with the concept of keeping mortys in constant pain to cloak his comings and goings around the multiverse (on paper, morty, on paper!), except this time he did it in reality.

evil morty. oh my god, evil morty. my saving grace. my ray of light. i’m so, so, so pleased with the way he was handled. while i admit i was looking forward to more of a slow - burn thing, getting a bit of insight into his presidency and possibly exploring a dynamic with him and c-137 (we’ll get to that)... i honestly still really loved what ended up happening with him, even though i still believe on some level that they just wanted to tie up his narrative thread so fans wouldn’t remain fixated on him.

of course he did. of course that motherfucker rick created a boundary within the infinite multiverse that ensured he’d always be the smartest man within it as far as mortys and other people in his life were concerned. i’ve always found it odd that such universes were never brought up even in passing; the nature of infinite possibilities always dictated that someone smarter than him must exist out there, and that worlds existed where he was nobody special.

him being morally gray. i could cry. i was clinging on to the hope that it would be shown he hates ricks more than he looks down on mortys, and it absolutely was. while he was okay with killing and hurting mortys to achieve his own “selfish” ends, it’s clear that he’s unhappy with the cycle of abuse from their infinite grandfathers that pushes him to these extremes, loathes the concept that mortys are not supposed to defy their ricks. “if you’ve ever been sick of him, you’ve been evil morty too.” he hates ricks FAR more than he does mortys, and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands. he believes mortys are beyond help because of the way they stick by rick-- the fact they’re literally created with being yes-men for rick in mind.

he didn’t seek to make changes for the greater good of other mortys within the citadel. i think he understood on some level, it was impossible. i think he has this belief that other mortys are part of the problem, because they perpetuate the cyclic dynamic of toxicity and harm-- they don’t move to break free from it the way he does, and so he feels no guilt leaving them behind while he breaks into the aspect of the multiverse where rick has no power. it’s honestly heartbreaking that he’s come to have a mindset like that.

i think seeing c-137 reach out to help rick up once again instead of accepting what i hope and pray was a semi - genuine offer to join him as he departed was just yet another instance of him witnessing a morty doing the most to save the man who makes their lives a living hell. if he was truly unsympathetic, he’d have made no such offer. if he thinks a morty is capable of pulling away from the hold ricks have on them, he wants them out of this shit just as much as he himself wants to break free from it. i think he has the mindset that i know they tried to play it off with “haha the other seat’s a toilet,” but i don’t think that was the case and they were once again just undermining the moment for no good reason. SCREAMS!! don’t get me wrong what he did WAS selfish and evil. but in a way you can understand where it derives from

again, it REALLY irritates me they’ve undone so much of morty’s character just to ensure he wouldn’t end up taking evil morty up on his proposition. if morty had retained even a tenth of the character growth he’s been having from late season four until towards the end of season five, wherein it began to unravel, he’d have left rick. undeniably.

the yellow portal. oh my god............

it made me so fucking emotional to see that. he’s won. he’s free.

#rick and morty #evil morty #okay this isn't even all of them but it will do #alex talks!

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loveinterestcastiel · 3 years

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sursum corda

Part one of a new canon divergent series, “A Sacrament to Be Taken Kneeling”

Summary: the opening dialogue to the eucharistic prayer, or anaphora, translated to english means “lift up your hearts”, and is the beginning of a devout worshipper’s holy communion with god

Canon divergent from 6x22, this one is rated M for religious blasphemy, power dynamics, and mature subject matter (later installments will be rated E for violence, sexual content, and graphic depictions of blood). Honestly this is just a fucked up exploration of the catholicnatural that could have been if the spn writers hadn’t been cowards and had instead really leaned into the whole Godstiel thing, and his dynamic with Dean. I’m going to hell for this and you know what? That’s just fine with me.

It can be read here or in AO3! Enjoy <3

Castiel was brighter than the sun, and he was beautiful. He was the most terrifying thing Dean had ever seen, because somewhere in there, he could still see Cas, the old Cas. He let Crowley go. Dean was going to kill that demon, but- later. Later, when they got out of here and got Sammy put back together.

Then Castiel blew Raphael up with nothing more than a snap of his fingers, and their most formidable adversary, after all these months, was suddenly just a bloody smear on the wall. The last Apocalyptic threat, gone, just like that, leaving Dean and Bobby alone with a Cas-gone-nuclear.

They were so, so fucked.

Cas looked over to Dean, his face softening incrementally but still distinctly smug.

"So you see," he said, turning away from Dean and moving as if to inspect his explosive handiwork, "I saved you."

Dean Winchester is saved.

“You sure did, Cas,” Dean said faintly, drifting further into Cas’s orbit as if somehow compelled. Castiel didn’t acknowledge him, keeping his back turned, his spine ramrod straight. Damage control. Holy fucking shit, damage control right now. “Thank you.”

“You doubted me. Fought against me.” He slowly turned to face Dean, a mockery of their first meeting in that rundown barn years ago, tilting his head the same way, his blue eyes the same limitless color and just as mesmerizing, but somehow about a million times more unsettling. “But I was right all along.”

Dean’s stomach swooped. “Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry,” he added quickly, his breath shallow and shaky. “Now let’s just defuse you, okay?” he suggested, the words cumbersome and heavy in his mouth.

Cas narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. “What do you mean?” he asked icily.

Dean forged on desperately. “You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe, so before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.” Oh, he felt like he was going to be sick. Please, Cas, please just listen to me…

“Oh, no, they belong with me,” Cas countered, his tone almost patronizing, like he was speaking to a child.

“No, Cas,” Dean interrupted before his brain or his fear could catch up to him. “It’s- it’s scrambling your brain.”

“No, I’m not finished yet,” he said firmly, with the ghost of a cold smile tugging on his features. “Raphael had many followers, and I must-” Cas paused, choosing his words, “punish them all severely,” he finished deliberately.

Bobby’s eyes darted over to Dean. He was visibly horrified.

Okay. One last effort. Okay.

Dean shoved down his fear and tried again. “Listen to me.” He stepped closer to Cas, swallowing hard as his voice fought to stick in his throat and looking steadily into his eyes. “Listen- I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge. But we were family, once,” he pleaded. “I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times.” Castiel’s face remained impassive but Dean continued. “So if that means anything to you- please,” he begged, abandoning his pride. “I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too.”

Castiel wrenched his eyes away from Dean’s and cast his gaze down to the floor between them. Was he considering it?

“You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas,” he tried to reason. “Get rid of it before it kills us all.”

A beat.

“You’re just saying that because I won,” Cas mused, raising his gaze back up to look at Dean again, pinning him there like a specimen under a microscope. “Because you’re afraid . You’re not my family, Dean,” he said, closing the remaining distance between them until he stood less than an arm’s reach away, positively radiating power, the air vibrating with it. “You’re just… human.”

His eyes lingered on Dean’s face, tracing his freckles, his eyelashes. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it. Castiel’s face hardened into stone, his next words iron. “I have no family.”

The words rang in Dean’s ears, banging about his brain and battering it into despair. It felt like a small death, his heart pulling on his ribs as he floundered for a new angle to pursue.

And then Sam was there, behind Castiel, and he just stabbed him with an angel blade, and Cas was swaying just a bit with the blade still stuck in his back as Sam gasped for air behind him, clearly distressed and stumbling backwards.

Dean froze, horrified.

What the FUCK were you thinking, Sam?

But- oh. Oh god.

Cas wasn’t dead. It didn’t work. His brain buzzed blankly with a static-y sensation of bewilderment as Cas reached around himself and pulled out the blade- shiny, clean, utterly free of blood- with an alarming squelching noise.

"I'm glad you made it, Sam," Cas said in a distressingly level voice, placing the newly-extricated angel blade on the table in front of him before turning to glance at Sam. “But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore,” he said, matter-of-fact as could be, as if he hadn’t just dropped yet another massive bomb on their lives. Sam looked to Bobby, his eyes wide, and Bobby shrugged back minutely, similarly floored.

Look at me, Cas, leave Sammy alone, you’ve done enough-

As if he heard Dean’s thoughts- fuck, was he praying?- Castiel turned back to Dean and met his eyes. “I’m your new God,” he said, with an air of authority and immense self-satisfaction permeating his words. “A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Bobby’s eyes widened in the periphery of Dean’s vision as time seemed to swirl and slow down to a crawl- clearly, he hadn’t expected this either.

Sammy was strung out and swaying on his feet behind Cas, his eyes darting and rolling over the room as he rode out the hellish things that tormented him in his head, seemingly incapable of reacting to the gravity of the situation as what Cas had done put him out of his mind with fear.

In the span of a heartbeat, Dean made his choice. He had no choice.

He fell to his knees.

The crack of bone on hard tile was near agony. His gun clattered uselessly to the ground beside him as he shifted his gaze to land somewhere around the hem of Castiel’s coat. He couldn’t look at his face. Couldn’t meet his eyes. It was almost impossible to believe the terrifying figure before him was once his closest friend, and had saved him from Heaven and Hell alike before he had turned into whatever this was.

His throat was dry. He forced himself to swallow, drawing his tongue over his bottom lip as he tried to find the right words.

Bobby started to kneel, too. Survival instincts, probably. He’d have never gotten this old without them, anyway.

“My lord,” he began hesitantly.

The new God waved his hand dismissively at the title. “Castiel.”

“Castiel,” Dean corrected himself. Great start, you fuck up. “Cas, I swore my obedience to Heaven, once. To God, and his angels. To you,” his voice cracked as he risked a glance at the former angel. His eyes were like fire. Glowing. Unreal.

Bobby interrupted: “Dean, no-”

But Castiel snapped up a hand, palm out, and Bobby’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. “You will be silent,” Castiel ordered, his eyes never leaving Dean. He looked intrigued by Dean’s sudden compliance and admission. “I’d like to hear what you have to say, Dean. What can you possibly say to justify your lack of faith in me up until now? I could have cast you back into the pit, and Sam, too, had I not done this, all of it, for you.”

“I know you did, Cas,” Dean said. “Thank you. I- thank you. You were right, about everything, and I should have listened to you. I was wrong. I should have trusted you.” The words tasted like poison in his mouth. A part of him meant it. A part of him was just desperate enough to say anything. The rest of him wanted to see the cold monster in front of him dead. But how could he turn back now, without sentencing them all to death? If he played his cards right, he might even be able to save Castiel. Surely if he could get him to let go of those souls, he’d start to see reason, would be Cas again. But he was getting ahead of himself. Gotta think a little more short-term, right now. Band-aids and duct tape, not trauma surgery.

“I was blind,” Dean said, “and proud. I took you for granted, and I can do better. Be better. For- for you.”

He had never felt so weak. Groveling to his dad was different. He was his dad’s son, sure, but there was no love there. It was all survival, clinical, even his rage and his fists when Dean didn’t do enough to earn his mercy were detached. Duty and discipline and disappointment. This was different. It was hot with near-tears, messy and filled with grief for a man who wasn’t even dead. He wasn’t lying earlier when he told Cas he was like a brother to him. It was the closest comparison he had for what the angel was to his heart. He had never needed anyone like he needed Castiel- because he wasn’t Sammy, or Bobby, or Lisa, or Ben, or Cassie, or any other category of need. He was just Cas. And Dean wanted him in his life. Or he used to, anyway.

“I don’t know what I can do to make it right between us, Cas,” he said, his throat tightening slightly. “But I want to,” Dean offered, looking down in shame. “I want to be-” he choked out.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel asked, taking another step forward, the very picture of authority and control. One more step and Dean could reach out and touch him. The air was electric, heady with power as it positively radiated from his body.

He lifted his head to meet Castiel’s eyes in a pose of supplication, his knees aching, his eyes burning with tears as the situation started to overwhelm him. “I want to be forgiven,” he gasped out. “Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive us.”

“And Sam’s betrayal?” Castiel inquired, casting new fear into Dean’s heart. “He stabbed me in the back. And he has not knelt as you have. Why should I offer him mercy?” he mused.

“Look at him, Cas,” Dean said quietly. Sam was hunched over on the floor in the corner, holding his head in his hands, rocking slightly into the wall and pushing off of it again in a strange repetitive motion. “He can’t follow any of this. I don’t think he even knows where we are. It’s been getting worse as time passes. He was slightly more coherent an hour ago, but-” Dean shook his head. “I think he was just trying to protect me. I don’t think he even knew who you were, just- saw a threat and tried to take it out.”

Cas made a noncommittal little noise, glancing over to where Sam had retreated.

“Cas,” Dean said, drawing his attention back to himself. “He didn’t know what he was doing. Can you try to forgive him that?” he pleaded as the first tear escaped and ran down his cheek.

“And in return?”

“Anything,” Dean swore. “Just- Cas, please. I’ll do anything. I will, I swear it. Just please help Sammy.”

“It won’t be as easy as you think,” Castiel warned. “I want your trust, Dean. I want the bond we once had, and your submission to my better judgement, untainted by your... fear.” His voice turned hungry, reminiscent of when they worked that killer Cupid case last year and it turned out to be Famine. To be on the receiving end of desire of that magnitude was by turns exhilarating and horrifying. “I want your love.”

“Cas,” Dean said faintly, unable to tear his eyes away from his friend’s face even as Bobby attempted to fight his holy gag order from his place next to him. “I… I’ll try. For you,” he added, trying to add a note or resolve to his voice as his thoughts roared in fear and grappled with the idea, stuck on the precipice of this terrible new unknown he had run up against. But he truly had no choice. Sink or swim.

“I swear, Cas,” he said, raising his hand to his heart, “I’ll try.”

Castiel’s eyes softened. They stopped glowing.

Suddenly, for a moment, he looked just like himself. More than that, he looked heartbreakingly human.

He moved suddenly, sending Dean’s heart sprinting again for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

But he didn’t hurt him. He didn’t hurt Sam, or smite Bobby, or engage in any sort of holy wrath. He just kneeled, in front of Dean, and clasped his clammy hands briefly in his own warm, dry ones before shifting them both to his right hand and raising his right palm to Dean’s cheek, his eyes darting over his features with an air of disbelieving gratitude. It was so...

Castiel had lovely hands, Dean noticed. Strong, soft, and broad, with a gentle grip and long, agile fingers. So different from Dean’s own hands, already scarred from the last few years of wear and tear since his resurrection. Of course, he’d noticed before. Noticed that sort of thing about Castiel, how he used his hands to fight, to pray, to eat and to comfort, how they looked drenched in blood and how they looked at rest. How they looked striking a blow to his own face, and how they looked when he healed him. They were one of a million things Dean knew about him better than he knew himself.

“Oh, Dean,” he said softly, “That’s all I ask of you. Just try. Lift up your heart to me, and I will give you everything.”

Dean inhaled sharply, his chest tight as he leaned into the touch. "It's yours," he breathed out, "It's all yours, Cas."

Castiel smiled, and the world fell away.

Tagging in some people who I think might be interested, just dm me to be added or removed: @castieljew @dependsupon @autisticandroids @sunforgrace @heller-jensen @lateral-org @cactuscas @adhdeancas @icaruscastiel @holmesemrys @evermorecastiel @yana125 @faithcastiel @good-things-do-happen-dean @i-sing-for-me @whatevr-4evr @sonder-stars @jeanne-de-valois

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phantomchick · 3 years

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Naruto Fic Rec Masterpost!

The Last To Know by KuriQuinn Oneshot, Gen, Teen and Up, Team Seven, Sakura and Sasuke, Sakura and Team 7, Canon Compliant, Angst with a Happy Ending, trust, broken trust, forgiveness, hurt/comfort, this fic is fantastic and made me have so many feels for the characters as well as the bonds between them, Character Dynamics,

Summary: As usual, telling her the truth happens as though by afterthought. And this time, she's not taking it.

i'll always be there for you by RecklessWriter Oneshot, Gen, Itachi and Sasuke feels, sibling feels, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Big Brother Uchiha Itachi, a part of me niggles over team 7 failing a mission but I pretend that they ran into the hunter nin afterwards and Kakashi got the scroll back, it do be like that sometimes, Good big brother Itachi, Bad big brother Itachi, it’s complicated, Feels,

Summary:

He’s pressed against something warm. There are fingers carding gently through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Nii-san,” Sasuke whispers.

The hand in his hair freezes.

Sasuke gets thrown into a frozen lake. Itachi doesn't know how to stop being a big brother, even when he's supposed to be pretending he doesn't care.

The Beautiful Orange Thing by zafiro Oneshot, Gen, Naruto and Kurama, Naruto is a very lonely kid and the kyubi is a very lonely bijuu, Pre-Naruto Canon Era, chibi-Naruto, Naruto loves Orange, Kurama tolerates Naruto because he is Cute, sweetness and light, angst and fluff, so cute I wanna physically hug this fic to my chest

Summary: Naruto arrives at a weird place and finds something wonderful there.

Maslow by FriendshipCastle Oneshot, Gen, T for cursing, canonical child neglect, Iruka feels, Naruto feels, implied/referenced child abuse, but nothing worse than what’s in canon, angst, hurt/comfort,

Summary: The first four tiers of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Human Needs applied to Naruto’s depressing childhood. Alternatively: Iruka slowly becomes the best replacement mother a ninja could have.

take the fight from the kid by theformerone Oneshot, Gen, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Team 7, Canon Compliant, but can be read as divergent, Post Wave arc, Pre-Chuunin Exams,

Summary: Training with his team is different than it was before the mission to Wave. Sasuke notices how things have changed.

A Clean Break by GwendolynStacy Oneshot, Gen, Teen and Up, Hatake Kakashi and Team 7, Team as Family, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Team Fluff, Kakashi feels, Self-Harm via compulsive hand washing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Happy Ending,

Summary: Every member of Team 7 has their personal set of demons to haunt them. While Kakashi is always prepared to lend his students a listening ear, he still hasn’t quite figured out how to ask for help when he’s the one crumbling.

The Beginning and the End by QuinsValoria Oneshot, short oneshot, gen, THIS HAD ME SOBBING OVER KUSHINA AGAIN EVEN THOUGH IT’S SO SHORT, pre-canon era, angst, Dont worry kushina, Your baby makes it out just fine, cries into laptop screen, Hurt/Comfort,

Summary:

“Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.” —Robert Browning

Uzumaki Kushina is an amazing mother, even in the very short time she has left.

Kushina comforts her baby.

The Prince Of Leaves And Deep Water by RayShippouUchiha Ongoing, 3 chapter fic, do you ever read a fic with language that is so pretty and evocative that you just want to lean into it, like a kid listening to a piece of folklore that’s been passed down, it’s just beautiful to read? And the words slice and cut into your feelings in the best of ways, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, Kushina feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Uzumaki Lore, well worth the read even as a stand alone should it never update again, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canonical Child Neglect, Uzushio feels,

Summary: ‘Protect him,’ Kushina prays in the quiet of her own mind as she leaves; pleading silently to the old spirits from her childhood, to the things that the Uzumaki Elders used to whisper about in hushed tones.

‘Love him,’ Kushina begs of the things she only knows from instinct and half remembered stories, those things filled with the power of salt and sun and deep deep waters. Those things that live and thrive in the heart and soul of every Uzumaki who has ever breathed and battled and bled. 'Guide him, keep him safe for always. But love him most of all. My little prince of eddies and leaves.’

Left behind, left alone and cold where before there was only a soft sort of warmth and a steady kind of safety, Naruto wails.

Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip Completed, 5 Chapter Fic, Gen, Umino Iruka & The Rookie Nine, Iruka-Sensei, Feels, fluffy, I have so many emotions about Iruka being the best teacher in the elemental nations and this fic brought them all out to play, Excellence, Kakashi is a troll, a huge troll, like, he’s such a troll he’s a mountain troll, Asuma is a lesser troll, like he’s mostly decent but still infuriating so he’s a bridge troll, Kurenai is so cool that even when she’s trolling as is her right and duty as the jounin elite she is, the person she’s trolling still respects her for it, a river troll, the kids are so cute and young here, you can really feel Iruka’s affection for them, please revel in the wonderful that is this entire fic, revel I say

Summary: Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)

it takes a village by quillofferings Oneshot, Gen, snapshot series, angst, character insight, konoha 12, rookie 9, team Gai, team 10, team 8, team 7, repeating patterns and revelations, kinda gives a sense of the culture of a childhood in Konoha in a way that’s very quietly tragic, this story was written well before shippuden came out but it still reads mostly true to me, A Classic of the Fandom,

Summary: A Naruto snapshot series in the form of a oneshot.

spirals by nescione Gen, Oneshot, Team Seven, Generations, Team 7, Dai Nana Han, Spirals, Repeating Patterns, things happening the same across generations in repeating patterns is a big theme in the canon and lots of fic delve into it and play with the whole idea as a result, but this fic does it especially well, Team as Family, Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, A Classic of the Fandom, Summary: From the sannin to the present- a look at how history repeats itself, and how it doesn't.

this, and love too, will ruin us by RecklessWriter Oneshot, Gen, Itachi and Sasuke feels, Naruto Feels, Short and Sweet, Angst, Whump, Brother Feels, Sibling feels, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Naruto Uzumaki Needs a Hug,

Summary: Naruto remembers the first time he saw Sasuke and Itachi.

He remembers looking at them and thinking, I wish I had someone who loved me like that.

Ten Facts About Team Yamato by Lisse Oneshot, Gen, short and sweet, Team 7 feels, Team as Family, Dai Nana Han, Team Seven, Team Yamato, characterisation, short but solid, Ficlet,

Summary: On paper, their team doesn't exist.

Troubling New Developments by SicTransitGloria Oneshot, Teen and Up, hilarious, pre-shippuden, Team as Family, Kakashi pov, Team 7, AHAHAHAHA, Puberty hits the genin,

Summary: Kakashi takes a moment to wrap his mind around equating Ino’s chest with enemy shinobi while Asuma begins beating his head against the table and groaning about how he didn’t sign up for this. Rated for language and the general horror that is puberty

Of Harrowed Hearts by Sable_Scribe Ongoing and possibly (probably) Abandoned, Gen, Long Fic, we’re at 36 chapters in as of the time I’m posting this, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix It, Families of Choice, Team Seven, Team as Family, Bamf Kakashi, Good Teacher! Kakashi, Angst, Uzushio Lore, Fluff, Uzushio Feels, Uzumaki heritage, Bamf Team 7, BAMF Rookie Nine, Naruto's ability to make friends with giant chakra demons surfaces early, Rookie Nine, Rookie 9, Konoha 12, Naruto and Kurama,

Summary Naruto has been hearing the rumbling growl in the back of his head for as long as he can remember. He’s seven when he tries to talk to it for the first time. He’s the dead last, the failure at everything, so he doesn’t actually expect to succeed. And when he’s suddenly standing, knee deep in murky water and face to face with a demon, he has no idea what to expect. As it turns out, the world could use something unexpected.

Automatic by Dayadhvam Oneshot, Gen, Sand Siblings, Fluff, Team as Family, but also, Family as Family, Short and Sweet, A Classic of The Fandom

Summary: Gaara's shield defense is automatic: he has never had to consciously think about ordering the sand where it is needed. Kankurou and Temari have always known this.

As Is the Sea Marvelous by blackkat Mature, Gen, Eleven Chapter Fic, Warring States Era, Uchiha Madara/Senju Tobirama, Izuna Lives AU, everybody lives nobody dies, Hurt/Comfort, brotherly feels, sibling relationships, Angst With A Happy Ending, Insecurity, Self-Sacrifice, Imprisonment, Fix-It

Summary: Tobirama is willing to give absolutely anything for Hashirama and his dream. Including his life.

A Lesson In Trust by Live Gen, Oneshot, Shikamaru & Naruto friendship, academy days, trust exercise, fluff

Summary: All Iruka wants is for his class to start trusting each other, too bad Shikamaru would rather watch the clouds...

Snow Is Serious Business When Your Business Is Being A Kid by vulcanhighblood Gen, Oneshot, Iruka and Naruto, Umino Iruka is a Good Teacher, Uzumaki Naruto Needs a Hug, Fluff, Snow

Summary: Iruka's trying to teach his class, but the first snowfall of the year makes keeping their attention more difficult than he would have liked.

The Consequences of Winning by tabjoy13 Oneshot, Gen, Team 7, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi is a Good Teacher, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi Is Trying, Wave Mission

Summary: Three days. It had been three days since Zabuza’s attack, since Kakashi passed out, and since Team Seven took refuge in the bridge builder’s home. Three days and Kakashi hadn’t shown a sign of stirring. Three young genin are left with the question: now what? Cross posted on FF.net.

discendo docemus by llamallamaduck Mature, Ongoing, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Trauma/Ptsd, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Good Orochimaru, A lot of talk about depression and mental instability, Also Sharingan fuckery and assorted eye-trauma, rarepair, Itachi & Sasuke, eventual Sasuke/Ukitake, Itachi & Tsunade,

Summary: There are some things a seven-year-old psyche is not ready to endure. An S-ranked torture technique preformed by a traumatized thirteen-year-old is one of those things. Sasuke doesn’t enjoy hallucinating memories of his murdered family day in and day out, but he’s learned to be philosophical about such things. It’s everything else that’s the problem, really.

Nidaime Otokage by DuskBeforeDawn Ongoing, inspired by nukenin, Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Protective Hatake Kakashi, BAMF Hatake Kakashi, BAMF Dai-nana-han,Team 7, Team as Family, Non-Konoha Shinobi Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi is a Troll, Kage level Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi-centric, fluff, adventure, crack, mature, fun read

Summary: No one knew him.His father was still alive.His Sharingan acted like it had always been his.Kakashi was twenty-two years in the past of a different world.

French Kissing, the End of the World, and Other Impossible Ordeals by Tsume_Yuki Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Female Uzumaki Naruto, Time Travel, Uchiha Sasuke Being an Asshole, Protective Uchiha Sasuke, BAMF Uzumaki Naruto, Time Travel Fix-It, Smitten Uchiha Sasuke, grumpy asshole/cheerful optimist, this fic is literally just Sasuke being soft for Naruto, Mature but like it’s fiiine the author could’ve left it at teen and up and it would’ve gotten a pass at least from me

Summary: This is it, centuries of excellent genetics, of carefully selected marriages to maximise the potential of future generations and it’s going to be Sasuke who introduces idiocy to the Uchiha bloodline. The ancestors must be rolling in their graves. In which Sasuke is smitten, Naruto is a badass, and time travel happens.

No Tomorrow by Authorship Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Clan, Shisui Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Longfic, Completed, Found Family, Fix It, Mature, Time Travel, Fuck Danzo

Summary: The water was crushing, pummelling Shisui's broken form, even as it swept him further and further from Konoha.

And then Shisui woke up.

It's two months until the day he died. Two months to change the current of his life, of his Clan, of his village. And Shisui has no intention of letting history run its course.

¦ part 1 ¦ part 2 ¦ part 3 ¦

#Naruto #fic recs #fic rec list #fic rec masterpost

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holylulusworld · 4 years

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Past

Summary: Dean finds his perfect mate, only for her to run away from him. When Sam calls her after their last encounter she needs to decide to let her mate die or come to his rescue.

Request: May I request an ABO fic where Dean finds his perfect Omega but she rejects his advances at every turn until he triggers her heat with his rut making him her true mate and even when she's claimed she rejects him for a bit making him go feral until Sam snaps her out of her fear? (you can make up why she's scared). love you, hun!

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Sarah Blake, vamps

Warnings: angst, unrequited feelings, true mates, ABO, ABO dynamics, mentions of abusive past/sexual assault/non-con claiming, physical and mental abuse (nothing graphic)

A/N: Omega!Sarah Blake is the Sarah Blake from the show, but in a different role

Runaway Mate Masterlist

Funny how your past is catching up with you, tries to break you with little reminders.

While you watch Dean sit in his car to wait for his brother you let your eyes wander over it. He had a classic car too, but it didn’t look like Dean’s.

It was dirty, rusty and you hated to sit in it but seeing the Impala made you think of him and you felt pain shoot through the scar at your neck.

You know it’s impossible, you know there is no way he can be here, can go after you but still, your heart is racing.

With shaking fingers, you dial Sarah’s number to hear a familiar voice but for the first time, she doesn’t answer.

Dialing her number again you get up from the steps in front of your room and Dean is alerted. Your heart beats fast enough to jump out of your chest as you dial her number for the third time.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Shaking you look at Dean as he gets out of the car to run toward you. “Y/N, talk to me, Sweetheart.”

“I…we have an emergency signal or rather we always answer our phone, no matter what we do at the third signal, Dean. I dialed her number three times, but Sarah does not answer.”

Your voice trembles and for the first time, Dean can see the vulnerable and scared Omega shine through.

“Okay, tell me where she wanted to go to. We will check there first and Sam can try to trace her phone.” Dean runs toward his car, dialing his brothers’ number as you try to reach your friend once again.

Black…everything is black before the pain wakes Sam from the darkness. He can smell blood, dirt, and fear as he tries to blink his eyes open.

“You’re awake…” Coughing a young woman looks at him, fighting the shackles holding her to the ground.

“You’re a hunter too, I assume, just like the girl over there. She told me to remain calm, but they knocked her out as she refused to tell them anything about someone called Y/N.”

Sam’s eyes wander toward Sarah. He can see blood running down her forehead, but she’s breathing.

While the skilled hunter scans the room he recognizes two things, his shackles will not hold him for long and the girl looking at Sarah’s bleeding wound is a vampire.

“She told you…” Sam’s eyes are trained on your friend to make sure she’s still breathing.

While the vampire studies Sam’s stoic face the hunter tries fumble with the shackles, already picking the lock holding the chains.

“The hunter, she’s right. You should remain calm and we will find a way out of here.”

“I am so scared.” The vamp’s eyes dart between Sam and Sarah. She knows the moment your friend wakes up she will warn the way stronger hunter and Winchesters are know for not dying that easily. “What can we do?”

“Do you know what they want and who they are?” While the vamp looks at Sarah once again Sam let the chains around his hand slip off his wrists to silently place them behind his back. His feet are still bound but if must, he can take the vamp down.

“I don’t know anything, Sir. They came in here, hit the girl and asked her about the other woman. She refused to answer and then they left.”

Sniffling the vampire looks at Sam. She plays her role well, Sam gives her that, but he is not an easy victim to her sob story.

“Was that before or after they brought me here?” Searching the girl's face Sam fumbles the syringe with the blood of the dead out of his back pocket. “What’s your name?”

Maggie and it was before they brought you here. She was out cold when two large guys dragged you in and dropped you.” Nodding Sam waits for the perfect moment.

“How long are you here?” While the vamp looks at Sarah steering in her sleep Sam strikes. The syringe bores into the girl’s neck and she screams in pain.

“Hey…are you wake?” Watching your friend Sam frantically searches for the key to his chains. “I am a hunter too. My name is Sam, Sam Winchester and I know Y/N. We met during a hunt.”

“Sammy doesn’t answer his phone…” Slamming his hands onto the steering wheel Dean curses. “This is not a coincident, Y/N. Sam and your friend disappearing at the same time in the same town.”

“I am sorry, Dean. I guess she found me before I had the chance to take her down.” Blinking a few times, you look out of the window. “Or rather them…”

“Them…” Glancing at you Dean stops the car. “What are you not telling me, Y/N? I know you are after mama for a reason but so far, I didn’t ask. If Sam is in danger, I need to know everything.”

“You know I can’t tell about my past, it’s better this way. No one ever wanted to hear my side of the story. For everyone, I was an aggressive Omega not wanting to submit.” Voice bitter you dial Sarah’s number once again. “Every Alpha chose their side…”

“Well, I am not every Alpha not even close.” Giving you a soft smile Dean looks at you.

“Listen, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened to you. I would never force you to tell me. I have a huge package I carry with me too, Sweetheart, but we are running out of time here.”

“Mama…she’s…” Looking at Dean you search his soft eyes. “I would need to explain everything, but this would take us hours and as you said, we are running out of time, Dean.”

“Just the highlights then. You can leave everything out we do not need to save Sam and your friend, Y/N.” You hesitate, nibble at your lower lip as Dean starts the engine. “Fine, Y/N. I’ll tell you something about me first.”

Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he starts talking. “I sold my soul to save my brother. I was in hell for 40 years and one day, I broke and started to torture souls too. When I came back I had nightmares, I still have sometimes…”

Surprised by Dean’s honesty you look at him, really look at him and you can see the broken boy behind the tough hunter façade.

“I lost everyone, Y/N. Mom, Dad, Bobby - anyone I ever liked died or left me except for Sammy, and he just doesn’t know better…” Huffing you try to swallow the lump in your throat as you look at anything but Dean.

“At the beginning, I thought it’s my fate as an Omega. I believed that I just need to get used to that someone rules my life, tells me what to do or leave but slowly, I doubted being an Omega means what my life became.”

Dean’s heart clenches in his chest hearing the hurting in your voice. He wants to say something, wants to soothe the pain but he knows you are not ready to let him help you.

“All I can tell you is that one night, he tried to kill me, and I fought him. It ended badly…for him.” Your face is stoic, but your voice betrays you.

“I get it, Y/N. He was a monster but what I don’t understand is that you hate all Alpha’s only as one treated you badly. This is no excuse for his behavior or what he did to you, tho…”

Dean dials Sam’s number again, still ending on his brother’s mailbox he tosses the phone into the glove department.

“One Alpha…” Laughing bitterly you glance at Dean. “It started with my brother and father selling me to this monster. Or rather making a deal to rise in the ranks.”

“Y/N…” Gasping Dean tries to remain calm but the anger welling up is untamable. “I am so sorry.”

“I trusted them with my life. Till that day, they protected me, made sure no one ever hurts me. My father, he never treated my mother like she’s not equal as she’s an Omega and then one day…”

Snapping your fingers you look at Dean. “Poof, the gentle and caring family was gone.”

“I…” Voice cracking Dean blinks the tears away.

“At first, he was nice. Asking me about hobbies and shit but then he…” Sniffling you look away. Rather concentrate on the trees passing by than Dean’s sad face. “He forced his mark on my neck and everything else too…”

“Omega…” A low whine leaves Dean’s lips as he gives you side-glances. He can see the tremble of your hands and the pain tightening your chest.

“When he was done, he left for days or weeks and I prayed he won’t come back. Every. Single. Time.” Dean’s eyes drift toward you occasionally while you keep on talking. “One night, he…he crossed another line, or rather wanted to and I lashed out.”

“I won’t ask what he tried to do…”

“I was able to avoid getting pregnant and he assumed, I am infertile, Dean. That night he brought a young girl into our home or rather my prison. I saw the fear in her eyes and just knew, he would force her too…”

Sniffling you wipe the tears away. “I tried to call the cops, told them what my Alpha is about to do but…” Laughing bitterly you shrug.

“None of the Alpha’s believed you,” Dean asks and you shake your head.

“Oh, they believed me, Dean. But they laughed about me and congratulated my Alpha on his decision to get a younger mate.”

“Bastards…” Slamming his hands onto the steering wheel Dean curses. “They should’ve stormed the house. I would’ve done so…”

“I hung up and felt his hands on me. I…I reacted instinctively and pushed him away for the first time, I found the strength to fight back, because of the girl I had to protect. He tried to strangle me, but I was faster.”

There’s a hint of pride in your voice and Dean smirks as you tell him you ran into the kitchen and stabbed him with the cheese knife.

“He ended like a tiny mouse. Begged for his life, Dean and I knew he wasn’t the powerful Alpha I thought he was.”

“What has mama to do with all of this?” Your eyes meet Dean’s and you know you must tell him everything to save your friend.

“She’s his mother. Her grief about the loss of her perfect Alpha son and the hatred she always harbored toward me forced her to look for a way to kill me.”

Your features darken as you look at the world outside passing by. “I wasn’t the young and vulnerable eighteen years old girl they threw into the lion’s den. I am a strong and trained hunter, Dean. I killed two of her pack members when they tried to get hold of me.”

“And she did what?”

“I was not easy to take down, so she thought making her pack stronger would stop me, would bring me down but…” Smirking you give Dean a wink.

“I was a hunter and knew how to take vamps down. Mama tries to create a new and larger family, but I won’t give her the chance to do so. I will hunt her and every single member of her sick family down.”

“Why did she turn the girl if she supported her son’s abuse?”

“Mama, or rather Delilah believed I lied. I tried to tell her more than once that her son is a monster but she didn’t listen. Mama is after me believing I killed her gentle and caring son.”

“I will open the door and we will have to fight our way through. I think someone called mama is after us as she wants to get hold of your friend.”

“Mama…shit.” Sarah tries to follow Sam but she still feels dizzy and needs to press her body against the wall. When Sam wants to help she flinches away. “I can follow you, Sam.”

“I didn’t want to cross a line. I just wanted to help you. You’re injured, stay behind me no matter what. A friend of Y/N is a friend of the Winchesters…” Sam silently opens the door only to step into a sewer.

“You are a friend of Y/N?” Not believing Sam your friend eyes him suspiciously.

“I said she’s a friend, not Y/N sees me as one. I know she has problems trusting Alpha’s, but right now we need to help each other and find my brother and your friend. Dean is with Y/N and I hope he’s on his way as I assume we are running into a whole nest of vamps without any weapon…”

Runaway Mate Tags

@webcraft4eveh, @supernatural3002

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @sandlee44, @strayrosesbloom, @notyourtypicalrose, @thewinchesterco, @marvelfansworld @hobby27, @gh0stgurl, @flamencodiva, @jay-and-dean, @voltage-my2dlove, @spnhollis, @chonisberonica, @wittysunflower, @supernaturalenchanted, @shikshinkwon, @yolobloggers, @hhiggs, @laxe-from-outer-space, @ilovefanfic86, @linki-locks11, @eggingamazinglove, @trumpettay, @fandom-imagines1, @thenamelesschibi, @waywardbaby, @straycuties9, @drakelover78, @stuckys-whore, @zxph-yr, @i-love-superhero, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @deepmuffinspymaker, @katsav17, @heyitscam99, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @neii3n, @exo-nova, @cocklesbelli, @echoesofpassion, @lauravic, @shatteredabby, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @sea040561, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @shadowkat-83, @alltimesamantha, @officialmarvelwhore, @meganywinchester, @miraclesoflove, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @kayla-2000, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @spnwoman, @amiquette, @alexoloughlinlover32, @geekofmanyforms, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @atomicfandombomb, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @defenderrosetyler, @shortwinchester, @maybesomedaygayyyy, @tmiships4life, @sabascio, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @bunnybaby89, @pandabiiissh, @maddiedott, @lilulo-12, @theoneandonlymelol, @mblaqgi, @clawsandshotguns, @justsomedreaming, @cassiopeia-barrow, @its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters, @mscarter213, @jo-like-josette, @mep6811, @prettydeaneyes, @rvgrsbrns, @deanwanddamons, @tearsforhan, @skittlebittz, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @belovedcherry

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @negans-lucille-tblr, @deans-baby-momma, @thefaithfulwriter, @squirrelnotsam, @roonyxx, @neerness, @deansgirl-1968, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @woodworthti666, @thevelvetseries, @dreaminemz, @akshi8278, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @justanotherwinchester, @multisuperfandom, @jason-todd-squad, @jadesupernatural, @psychicforest, @luciathewinchestergirl, @magssteenkamp, @palefiregiver, @tranquility-or-chaos, @jxackles, @michellemxndes, @addictedtofictionalcharacters, @gabifernandessn, @waywardrose13

#Runaway Mate Masterlist #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #abo #abo dynamics #angst #mentions of abusive past #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester SPN #dean x reader #dean x you #alpha!dean #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x reader #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omegareader #true mates

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justadreamforus · 4 years

Note

Can I ask for lwj/wwx with abo pregnancy smut? Hehe thank you so much!

A/N: I wasn’t sure if you meant them having sex while Weiying is pregnant, or if you meant them having sex and Weiying becoming pregnant after, so I just went with the first one! Anyway, thank you once again for your request and I hope I did them justice~

PS: I might also post this on AO3 if you don’t mind

WC: 5, 702 words (this was longer than I thought)

When Weiying had first woken up in Mo Xuanyu’s body, he had realised the latter was an omega instantly, the coy scent of ripe oranges and summer skies giving it away. And when he had received a shoe to his face a minute later, several inappropriate curse words that would have made even his dearest Shijie flinch had flown through his mind. It wasn’t because he hated omegas, oh no, he was very much a gentleman to them, but the glaringly obvious difference in strength was enough to have his teeth grinding as he looked around his abode, shame and anger interwoven with each other.

Because omegas were physically weaker in all aspects, their golden cores taking longer to mature as their bodies were born soft, wide hips and fragile bone structures enticing alphas to mate them, pup them full. Which would have been fine, if it weren’t for the objectification of their body, the amazing blessed fertility turning them into breeding bitches every heat. And that had been the case for Mo Xuanyu, Weiying had realised with startling clarity as he sat in the middle of a ruined shack with barely a blanket for a nest.

It was cold, the scent of salt sharp in the air as Weiying had cautiously sniffed the material, identifying tears and the bitter tang of blood. This was the scent of depression, of an omega huddling underneath covers in stark fear every heat praying for salvation, and it had made his long gone alpha instincts snarl. His ire only grew more as he noted the treatment he had received from the Mo family, had glanced around the depilated shack with white fury as he finally understood the abuse his summoner had given him, the liberties they had taken with someone weaker, quieter, gentler.

But Mo Xuangyu had gotten his revenge, painting the Mo estate with blood, and Weiying was proud to call the body his own, alpha or not. Experiencing his first heat had been, well, interesting, to say the least, and mating with Lanzhan had turned his entire world upside down. It was fun, invigorating, life changing, and Weiying was happy to settle down into pillowed forts and hundreds of blankets, safe and comfortable within his nest at Cloud Recesses. It only got better at night, when he could snuggle into warm arms and bury his face into the crook of Lanzhan’s neck, breathing in the euphoric scent of sandalwood and cotton, a happy pleased alpha crooning into his ear.

He was starting to understand the joy of being an omega, why some would revel in their dynamic even with all the abuse they may have had to face. Because it was a power trip watching Lanzhan melt when he batted his eyes and pushed out his bottom lip, the alpha immediately caving and letting Weiying sleep an hour longer. It made a darker part of him crow with delight whenever he would pinch his inner thigh under a blanket, hidden from view, until his eyes began to water, and Lanzhan would drop his scrolls, rushing into their nest to thumb away his tears. Perhaps it was a tad mean, a little rude to play on the alpha’s overwhelming desire to provide, but Weiying had been dead for sixteen years, damn it he deserved attention!

And it wasn’t as if he had to do a lot to receive it. Lanzhan was happy to indulge him, happy to be distracted whenever Weiying would climb into his lap and mouth at his scent gland, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he kneaded Lanzhan’s thigh greedily. It was just so easy, letting his robe slide down one shoulder to show off his mating bite, proud and dark against his snowy white skin that would have his alpha sharply inhaling, fangs beginning to emerge. There was a certain level of intoxication to having Lanzhan listen to his every whim if he lowered his eyes just right, the satisfaction of having stone cold perfection give into his warmth, melting under his touch.

Don’t tell anyone, but it was also highly entertaining to watch Lanzhan’s calligraphy brush tremble, the alpha’s ears cherry red whenever he’s forced to look away, as if he could possibly ignore Weiying’s sobs as he fingers himself open, the scent of slick and an eager omega thick in the air.

However, he was beginning to think karma was finally finding his way to him when one robust heat later had declared him pregnant and heavy with Lanzhan’s litter. Suddenly everything was too much and too little all at once, and Weiying found himself swinging between cooing at his alpha and, well, dragging his claws through all twenty of Lanzhan’s robes whenever the other irritated him. Which would have been fine if it weren’t for the fact that Lanzhan irritated him plenty, something Weiying hadn’t thought would be possible once they were mated. They were in love for crying out loud! He didn’t know why or what the alpha did wrong to warrant such visceral hate at times, and his logical brain constantly found issues with his weird responses, but Lanzhan was having none of it. And neither, unfortunately, was his omega.

“Weiying-”

“I don’t want this blanket! I already told you I don’t like the texture! I don’t like it, don’t want it, don’t need it, don’t want anything to do with it!” Weiying snarls, fingers digging into the pillow he has in his arms like a shield as he glowers at his alpha from his cocoon, canines bared dangerously. He had been antsy since morning, pawing at the blankets and sniffing them carefully as he repositioned them throughout the day, but hadn’t been able to figure out what was wrong.

At first, he had thought it was the pillows, but the moment he had laid them outside of his nest his inner omega had begun to cry in earnest, and Weiying had practically scrambled onto the floor for them, eyes wild and scent heavy with distress. Perhaps it’s the bottom layer, Weiying had guessed, peeling back the cotton sheet that covered their mattress, aware that it was due for a wash soon. Except he had barely handed Lanzhan the sheet before his omega had screamed, no return it mine part of nest mine mine mine, and he had almost mauled the other in an attempt to get it back, fingers shifting into claws as he spat viciously into Lanzhan’s face. But the alpha was patient, so kind and good to me, what a man, my man, Weiying had thought dazedly to himself as Lanzhan offered him blankets, soothing his omega’s rising haunches.

And then he had offered that particular set of blankets and well.

“Weiying-”

“I hate it! I hate it!” Weiying shouts, chest heaving as he clutches the pillow even closer, violet eyes tracking the alpha who’s standing hesitatingly in the doorway, blankets behind the line separating both rooms. “Everything’s wrong,” he growls, and oh, everything is wrong, and suddenly Weiying is gasping for breath, eyes beginning to water as he sniffles, his bottom lip wobbling as he stares at Lanzhan, at his amazing alpha who’s trying and him, stupid omega who can’t even get a nest right, a nest where we’ll be having their pups and raising them and I’m a failure of an omega-

“Weiying is not a failure.” Lanzhan’s calm voice cuts through his thoughts, and Weiying finds himself letting out a wet gasp, choked laughter bubbling in his throat as he watches Lanzhan get on his knees, carefully placing the blankets behind him. “Weiying is trying, and that’s all that matters,” Lanzhan reminds him gently, and Weiying growls, a displeased rumble emanating from his throat even as the praise makes him preen, makes his inner omega purr.

“How would you know that huh Hanguang-jun?” Weiying mumbles peevishly, rubbing his eyes onto the sleeve of his robes as he glares half-heartedly at the alpha. “I’ve been here all morning,” he swallows, eyes beginning to fill with tears once more as he stares dejectedly at his nest, his pathetic excuse of a nest, “been here all afternoon,” he gulps, voice rising in pitch as his omega wolf paces, lips pulled back angrily because wrong, wrong, wrong, it’s all wrong, “and I still can’t fucking figure out what’s wrong!” With a loud yell Weiying threw the pillow, the low thump as it clipped Lanzhan in the chin emphasising his point as he hissed, inner omega growling and digging its paws into the ground because stupid, everything is stupid, everything is wrong, stupid nest, stupid omega, waiting in stupid nest for stupid alpha feeling stupid and angry and empty and-

Oh.

The realisation hits Weiying like a slap to the face, and with both hands busy cradling his baby bump now that the pillow was gone, Weiying barely manages to stop himself from tumbling backwards in shock. Because now he’s aware, aware of his hole that’s steadily licking slick, wetting his robes, scent muffled by the mountain of blankets he had added to his nest once he realised he was expecting. Because now that Weiying is paying attention he can feel it, feel the way his thighs are quivering and the way his hole itches, aches for something inside. Because now that Weiying has noticed, desire is welling up in him, calling for strong arms to hold him in place as something thick and hard sinks into his fluttering hole, for big hands to grab onto his hips and hold him down, breed him silly and god am I stupid or what?

“Lanzhan, I need sex.” Weiying says calmly, eyes wide, and is gratified to see Lanzhan choke, the alpha accidentally knocking his head against the frame of the door in surprise. It makes him want to laugh, and he can’t help the cackle that escapes him as Lanzhan hastily rights himself, back straightening even as the pink flush blossoming across his cheek bones give away his embarrassment. It’s hilarious, downright funny to Weiying because who would have thought I was angry because I wasn’t having sex and oh god I need Lanzhan to sex me up even though we already do it every day and Jiangcheng is never going to let me live this down. But those thoughts will have to wait, Weiying thinks as he licks his lips gleefully, eyes growing half-lidded as he casually runs a hand down his chest to his belt.

His action earns him a spike in Lanzhan’s sandalwood scent, the musk turning deep as the alpha begins to pay attention, spine straightening as he takes note of Weiying’s casual posture and splayed legs. Playfully toying with the knot, Weiying smirks as he slides his calves out from underneath the blanket, revealing pale lily legs, and accidentally chokes on his own scent, mandarin orange heavy with arousal, the sharp tartness of fruit swept away by the pinpricks of heat and spice. It’s alluring, practically engulfs the entire room, and that thought has Weiying grinning, fangs on full display as Lanzhan’s hands curl into fists, the alpha’s irises blowing out as his nostrils flare, breathing in the scent of slick, fertility and lust.

Purring softly, Weiying allows the tail end of his belt to slip through his fingers once, twice, watching indulgently as Lanzhan’s eyes follow his movements, the alpha beginning to pant even as the sound remains minimal, quiet. But it’s there, and Weiying is riding on that wave of adrenaline, on that fixated gaze as he winds the tassel around his index finger, shooting Lanzhan a coy smile. There’s a flicker of wry amusement in those honey gold eyes before they darken with desire, and Weiying doesn’t hold back as he lets out a desperate mewl, back arching prettily as he yanks away his belt with a single finger, opening his robes.

He’s wet, literally gushing, and Weiying feels himself gasp in relief as his heated skin meets the cool air of the room, baby bump proudly on display. It’s small, the curve not quite prominent enough for him to start waddling instead of walking, but it’s enough to force Lanzhan to hyperventilate, the rapid rise and fall of the alpha’s chest making Weiying’s lips curl into a victorious snarl. Slowly, he runs his fingers through the viscous translucent liquid, scooping it up from the inner junction of his thighs and drawing patterns over his skin. He makes a show of it, lifts his fingers into the air so Lanzhan can see the thick strands that drip over his fingers and palm, and when he’s sure the alpha is watching, completely riveted by him, Weiying pushes two fingers into his mouth and sucks.

“Weiying-!!” Lanzhan rumbles, voice tight, and Weiying smiles sweetly back at his alpha, eyes lowering demurely before he jams his fingers further into his throat, making him gag. It doesn’t taste like anything but himself, salty and a tad flowery, but it’s worth it for the way Lanzhan inhales sharply, hands reaching up to grip at his headband, the alpha vibrating with need. So needy, Weiying thinks greedily to himself as he shifts in his nest, rocking into the sheets and staining it with his slick, so desperate for me. Swallowing around his fingers and letting out a muffled moan, Weiying lets Lanzhan watch him taste his own slick, tongue chasing after the dripping liquid and sliding over his digits before he stops.

“Weiying…” Lanzhan whispers brokenly, and Weiying sweeps a cursory gaze over his husband before his eyes find the rising bulge between Lanzhan’s thighs. It’s pushing against Lanzhan’s white robes, and Weiying finds himself puffing his chest out proudly, preening at the answer from his alpha, at how much Lanzhan wants me in his lap, wants me spread and ready for him, and that image makes his mouth water. It has him palming his cock from root to tip, grinding into the palm of his hand as he locks eyes with Lanzhan, panting from exertion. The sexual tension in the air is palpable, but Weiying has always been a little cruel, a little mean. After all, how could he not be when his darling Hanguang-jun allowed him to get away with everything?

Which is why Weiying refuses him entry, refuses to allow Lanzhan into their nest, instead running his hands over his chest and pinching his nipples. Watching as Lanzhan’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping his knees as Weiying moans, thrashing from the tiny bolts of pleasure is riveting. It feels good, makes him whine and sob as he flicks them playfully with his fingernails, making them harden. He rubs them between his index finger and thumb too, twists and plays until they’re swollen and puffy, areolas pink and heavy, stopping only when a hysterical grunt escapes Lanzhan’s lips. Not too much Weiying, not too much, the omega reminds himself as he lets go of his nipples and heads over to his hips, pulling his thighs apart to display the part Lanzhan wants most, is salivating like an alpha in rut for.

“Weiying!” Lanzhan’s voice is sharp and furious, and Weiying does cackle at that reaction, eyes flickering up to meet incensed golden eyes as he traces his wet rim, massaging it with the pad of his thumb. His scent blooms even more, the mandarin orange bathing Lanzhan in desperate pheromones that’s a siren call to the alpha, crooning breed me, fuck me, don’t you want me alpha? Weiying’s rim gives way easily, how can it not when we do it every day, and Weiying arches with a relieved mewl when his finger slips in with a loud squelch. Patting his walls, Weiying lets himself adjust to the intrusion, the curl of his finger, before he drags it out and plunges it back in with a loud spurt of slick. Then, with Lanzhan quivering before him from the door way, Weiying begins to talk.

“Look at what you did to me H-Hanguang-jun,” he whispers breathlessly, biting back a smug grin as Lanzhan visibly flinches, “I wasn’t this lewd when I was here at Cloud Recesses w-was I?” Head rolling backwards in bliss, Weiying lets himself rock against his finger, hole fluttering greedily around his digit, “Was this what you wanted Lanzhan? All w-wet and desperate f-for you?”

“Ridiculous.” Lanzhan grinds out from behind clenched teeth, and Weiying grins, fangs and all as he spots Lanzhan’s canines grow, digging into the swell of his bottom lip.

“A-Ah you think so?” Weiying murmurs, panting as his hips begin to shake, rutting furiously against his hand, slim fingers curling in the deepest part of him and making sparks fly up his spine. “But you m-made me like this Lanzhan,” Weiying arches, ass grinding against the sheets as he spreads his legs, swollen rim clenching down greedily on his fingers in full view for the alpha, “you b-bred me, bred me every n-night,” letting out a sharp whine, the omega’s hips began to roll, thighs trembling as his head knocked against the pillows, “you knocked me up-ah!” Eyes rolling backwards from the pleasure that was steadily building in his lower half, heat swirling in his lower stomach, the omega whimpered into the blanket, latching onto a corner with his mouth as he fought through the tremors, legs twitching from his close orgasm. Now, his inner omega howled, and Weiying shuddered, head heavy on the walls of his nest as he sucked on the soft material, breathing in Lanzhan’s sandalwood scent, the scent of mate, love, protection, mine.

“Weiying-”

“C-Come here.” Weiying whispers, eyes bleary as he pulls his fingers out with a sickening slurp, more slick pouring out of his sensitive hole that has him spasming, mind blank as he whimpers into the sheets. “L-Lanzhan,” Weiying whines, and this time he raises his head to stare at his alpha, irises blown, and cheeks flushed pink from arousal, “come here.”

That permission, that command is all it takes for Lanzhan to snap, the alpha letting out a bloodcurdling snarl as he rips off his head band and practically throws himself into the nest. Squealing loudly, Weiying moans as a hot mouth engulfs his own, plush lips immediately prying his own apart and Lanzhan’s tongue plunging into his own. He gets a sharp nip on his lip for his troubles, for teasing, and Weiying whimpers as Lanzhan slides a hand under his neck, supporting him as he ravages his mouth. It tastes of home, of a furious desperate alpha, and Weiying finds himself pawing at Lanzhan’s robes, yanking the belt off and tossing it aside. More, more, his omega screams, and Weiying finds himself manically sobbing, canines snapping at Lanzhan’s ear as he snarls at the alpha to go faster, move, hurry up. It’s a scramble to get each other’s clothes off, and Weiying lets out a yelp as Lanzhan rips his to shreds, whimpering as the alpha snarls into his ear, angry and animalistic.

“Lanzhan,” Weiying whispers, chokes as the other runs his nose down the side of his neck, “Lanzha-ah!” With a low growl, the alpha sank his teeth into Weiying’s scent gland, the smell of copper and blood permeating the air as Weiying wailed, head thrown back in ecstasy and pain. It’s everything he needs, everything he has been craving for since this morning when he had woken up grumbling and aching, inner omega whining that something isn’t right, need something, something’s missing. His annoyance was now all melting away under his alpha’s careful ministrations, roaring desire making his omega preen and hum, leaving him pliant as Lanzhan spreads his legs and sets a pillow beneath his hips, taking care of me like always, touch gentle even as his eyes glow, amber glinting deliriously.

It doesn’t last though, as Lanzhan sinks two thicker fingers into him with voracious intent to drive him wild, scissoring Weiying open with rapid movements. “Hng, ngh, mmhng!” Weiying gasps at the sudden intrusion, mind turning blank with pleasure as he lets out a soundless scream, legs clamping around Lanzhan’s torso as he fights a delicious shudder that wrecks his body. It has his hands scrabbling over Lanzhan’s shoulders, eyes filling with tears as he bounces on those fingers, long and rough from hours of playing guqin, and it shouldn’t be amusing, but it earns a soft huff from Lanzhan, and Weiying laughs too, high and hysterical as he undulates, clenches tight around those fingers every time they try to pull out of his body.

“L-Lanzhan,” Weiying whimpers, and the alpha stills as the omega tugs at his hair, lashes dotted with tears as he heaves, trembling. “R-Ready, I’m ready, Lanzhan, please, alpha,” and with an answering croon, Lanzhan twists his fingers one more time, watches greedily as Weiying arches and wails, clamping around him as he fights through another almost orgasm, hole squeezing and fluttering around the alpha’s fingers. There’s another gush of slick, thick and heavy, and Lanzhan mouths at Weiyng’s scent gland, his bite mark as he pulls the omega’s legs apart for the final main course.

That move reveals Weiying’s core, his swollen puffy rim, and Weiying has to bite down on his fist as Lanzhan pries his hole open with his fingers, putting him on display for his mate. It doesn’t help that he’s lying on his back, that his womb is swollen from carrying Lanzhan’s pups, and shame, for the first time in his life, wells up in him as he feels his channel weakly spurt, slick dribbling out from his gaping hole. He tries to hide it, as he always does, but his face must show it all, for Lanzhan is leaning in, and Weiying sighs as the alpha rubs his nose against the other’s, rumbling reassuringly as he slides a large hand over the baby bump. Alpha is good, Weiying’s inner omega purrs, alpha will protect us, alpha has waited sixteen years for us, and with a soft sob because how lucky can I be, how lucky am I, Weiying cradles Lanzhan’s face and pulls him closer, kisses his forehead.

“Weiying?” Lanzhan questions softly, and really this is unfair, Weiying thinks to himself as he looks up at his husband, really looks up at the man who has risked everything for him. Those sun gold eyes that peonies and all the gold of Lanling Jin could never compare to, long butterfly lashes and that gentle taciturn mouth, all of it was his. From the sweat of his brow to the tips of those long flowy locks, that strong sturdy back that bore thirty discipline whip scars and that burn on his chest that Weiying would have shared back then, was all his. Sixteen years he had waited, this beautiful gorgeous man had waited, had held a torch for him, raised his son, inquired about him, lived through seasons calling his name from spring to summer to autumn to winter. Sixteen years, and staring at the slight frown marring Lanzhan’s face, the worry hidden in golden orbs that whispered is this okay, are you okay, tell me what I can do, made Weiying feel like a carefree child running around Lotus Pier all over again, lips trembling and heart just so, so full.

“Inside.” Weiying answers instead, voice small, and Lanzhan blinks as Weiying buries his face into the alpha’s neck, presses his lips against the shell of his alpha’s ear and says, “I need to feel you.”

“Mm.” Lanzhan murmurs softly, and Weiying isn’t crying, he really isn’t, as Lanzhan presses a kiss to his temple, the head of his cock rubbing against Weiying’s fluttering entrance. Nodding his head in permission, Weiying gasps, eyes squeezing shut as he feels Lanzhan move, cock nudging at his inner walls and gliding even deeper. He can feel the burning heat that follows, the stretch making him writhe as he feels Lanzhan’s cock throb within him, an answering pulse as he clenches down on it, overwhelmed. They’re doing the same thing, but everything is just so much more, and Weiying finds himself sobbing as his alpha’s cock spears through his wet heat, loud and wet amidst the little worn out cries and whines that escapes his lips, those sounds kissed away by Lanzhan, the alpha crooning softly into his ear.

“Lanzhan, Lanzhan,” Weiying babbles, tear tracks running down his face as he turns his head and latches onto the alpha’s scent gland, a desperate broken wail muffled as he laves at the raised flesh, walls trembling from where Lanzhan is sheathed in him. It feels like a million fireworks are going off, the heat of their bodies building on each other, cresting higher and higher the way drinking alcohol on a cold night always feels. It makes him dizzy, the beat of his heart echoing as he’s pressed chest to chest with his lover, the Wen sect scar a dark mark on a pure pristine canvass, a mark of ownership Weiying had placed on the alpha before he had even realised Lanzhan was his.

Sucking harder, Weiying trills, voice garbled as he breathes in satisfaction and happiness, sandalwood flooding his senses as Lanzhan slides a hand over his baby bump. The alpha caresses the curve lovingly, and Weiying lets out a wet laugh as those fingertips dance over his stretched skin, palm hot and steady. He can feel the answering churn, of pups twisting in response to their father’s touch and these are his children, Weiying thinks dazedly as he splays his own hand over Lanzhan’s keeping the alpha’s touch there. There’s life in him, and it’s his, his and Lanzhan’s, and this time Weiying can’t help but smile, eyes filling with tears as he purrs, kneading the alpha’s forearm sweetly. It earns him a happy chuff, Lanzhan’s own rumble escaping the alpha’s throat before he decides to move.

Grabbing Weiying’s hips, Lanzhan slides out and Weiying whimpers at the loss, nosing the base of Lanzhan’s throat as the wet sound of flesh meeting flesh meets in tandem with the slow drag of cock inside him. It’s sweet torture, feeling Lanzhan pull out, grazing his most tender spots and ignoring the way his walls clung onto the alpha’s cock, wet and leaking. It makes him weak and wanton, hips jerking upwards desperately as he mewls and paws at his alpha, screaming for attention. Inside, come back inside, his omega cajoles, hole fluttering prettily around air as Weiying looks up at the alpha through his lashes, light-headed. Lanzhan’s brows are furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat running down his temples, and beautiful, my beautiful wonderful husband, when he moves. And the sound that escapes Weiying’s mouth is visceral, unholy, as he feels Lanzhan’s cock dive right into his deepest recesses.

“H-Hah! Hng, hn, mhn,” liquid pleasure is runs through Weiying’s veins as Lanzhan begins to move, and while the other is quiet in bed, nothing quite beats the satisfied grunts and huffs of air his alpha gives every time he pulls out only to chase the tight heat of Weiying’s hole. “G-Good, Lanzhan s-so goo-ah!” Weiying whines, head lolling backwards as he feels his lower abdomen begin to twinge, his thighs twitching as heat pooled in his lower half and slick spurted out of him. Babbling, fingers still splayed over his baby bump, Weiying moves to touch his cock only to whimper as Lanzhan slaps his hand away, growling threateningly as he slows.

“N-No!” Weiying cries, bottom lip trembling as he rocks his hips weakly, each move punctuated with a gasp. “P-Please, alpha, a-alpha d-don-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as with a rumbling purr Lanzhan’s thrusts begin to pick up speed once more, a feverish light in those golden orbs as the alpha buries his head into Weiying’s neck and begins to mouth at his scent gland, tongue massaging that swollen flesh and raking his fangs across it. There’s no pain to it, only an overwhelming scent of lust, of sandalwood piqued with heavy flora, the scent after a rainstorm, and Weiying feels himself moan as Lanzhan’s grip on his hip tightens. It’s going to bruise, and a vicious sense of triumph runs through his veins as he drools, mouth gasping for air as he stares at Lanzhan, the esteemed Hanguang-jun with his eyes glowing and lips pulled back in a dangerous feral snarl, debauched, tainted.

I did that, he thinks delightedly, fingers entwining around ebony black hair and yanking greedily, I put that expression there.

“K-Knot m-me.” Weiying manages to utter through the rapid abuse of his body, words stuttering out as he pants, locking his ankles around Lanzhan’s torso and tugging the alpha closer. “W-Want a k-knot. W-Want Lanzh-zhan’s knot-hng!” It earns him a soft hum of delight, the light airiness of cotton making itself known as the alpha begins to move even faster, meeting his omega’s demands and oh it feels so good, Weiying thinks to himself as he keens, throwing back his head as he wails, hole wide open for his alpha to use. There’s something about this that’s finally scratching his itch, his instinctual craving that’s been gnawing at his insides all morning, and Weiying lets it be known, lets his alpha bask in the happiness that he’s satisfying his omega with every loud cry that accompanies his thrust.

“Weiying.” Lanzhan murmurs and the omega makes a soft inquiring sound that sounds more like a ragged sob, and the alpha croons, voice a melody as he knocks his head against Weiying’s. “Weiying.” Lanzhan repeats, more breathlessly, and oh he’s close, and Weiying arches, hips shoving upwards to meet his alpha’s as he gasps out “Yes, c-come on, almost-” and is greeted with the tell-tale swell of an alpha’s knot. Moaning, Weiying grabs onto Lanzhan’s arms and moves with renewed vigour, chest heaving as he bounces on the alpha’s cock, eyes rolling backwards as his thighs begin to shake, balls pulling tight. A desperate low “Weiying” made through gritted teeth is all the warning he gets before his alpha is shoving his knot inside him, and Weiying chokes at the fullness, rim stretching tight to accommodate the cock which lodges within him.

“Lanzhan, Lanzh-ah! A-Ah, hng, mmhng!” Weiying wails, spine bowing as he lifts off the nest, lips parted in a silent scream. It feels like he’s dying, spirit barely anchored into the mortal realm as pleasure erupts, sending his blood boiling with heat. Lanzhan’s playing dirty, grinding against his prostate and mean, alpha’s being so mean but oh how Weiying loves it. Thrashing weakly, fingers digging into Lanzhan’s biceps so hard he almost draws blood, Weiying is on the cusp of something, abdominal muscles beginning to curl as he’s fucked into his nest, the brutal abuse of his prostate by the head of his alpha’s cock making him drool and his thighs quiver. Please, please, his omega screams, wailing as it comes even closer to the high it’s desperate to reach, pup me, fill me, keep me full always, always-

A firm hand on his cock jerks him out of his thoughts, and Weiying squeals as Lanzhan begins to stroke him, head shaking wildly as his fingers begin to morph into claws, digging into his alpha’s white soft skin. “N-No,” Weiying gasps, eyes wild as he stares at his alpha deliriously, his curved womb blocking his cock from view and wobbling with every aborted shove of Lanzhan’s hips. Pupils dilated, and lips parted in a broken wail, the omega can only shudder as his alpha rubs the head of his cock, fingers ghosting his silt and making pleasure burn through him. It’s building, the tension in his abdomen, and Weiying can’t hold back his howl of delight as the pleasure peaks, cresting magnificently as he cums, sobbing on Lanzhan’s cock, teeth bared and eyes alight.

“Weiying, Weiying, Weiying.” Lanzhan chants, voice tight, and the omega whimpers as he feels his alpha abuse his prostate, pressure unforgiving. But this is Lanzhan, alpha, alpha who was so good, sated his omega so well, “Lanzhan,” Weiying purrs gently, fingers carding through Lanzhan’s hair as he noses at his alpha’s neck. “Lanzhan, I need you.” He whispers, voice weak as he locks eyes with glowing amber hues. And just like that the alpha is coming, breath hitching and body stilling as enlarged fangs find purchase on Weiying’s neck, the alpha shaking as he cums, spilling inside Weiying’s body in drawn out spurts.

It’s gone now, the need to pace and to shred and to have something. Was gone the minute Lanzhan gave a low grunt and snarled, nostrils flaring as his seed flooded Weiying’s hole. Shivering from the aftershocks, body oversensitive, Weiying can only murmur soft words of endearments, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and cotton, basking in the post coitus glow. “So good, so good Lanzhan.” He murmurs, voice soft, and Lanzhan snorts, the sound muffled from where his jaws are still clamped around Weiying’s scent gland. The overwhelming scent of mandarin has faded, Weiying’s omega finally sated, and slowly, like he’s handling something infinitely precious, Lanzhan carefully dislodges his canines. It’s sore, and the wince that escapes Weiying doesn’t go unnoticed as the alpha lets out a frustrated sound, tongue soothing over the mark as he looks up at the omega worriedly.

“It’s fine, really.” Weiying whispers, lips beginning to curl as he presses his forehead to Lanzhan’s, the headband still wound around his wrist. More than fine, his omega purrs, rubbing its head against the alpha, tail flicking lazily in happiness, alpha is perfect, perfect. Slowly moving the alpha’s hand back to his distended womb, Weiying blinks back tears as he feels the pups move, stirring slightly before nestling inside him. Mine, this is mine, he thinks, awed, and there’s no helping it as a tearful grin breaks across his face, as he rubs his nose against Lanzhan’s, heart warm and body perfectly sated. A low rumble echoes across the room, and Weiying huffs as Lanzhan pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around him and cuddling the omega close.

He’s lucky to have his Lanzhan with him.

“Hey, I don’t think we should let Jiangcheng name them. He sucks at names.”

“Mm. Whatever Weiying wants.”

So, incredibly, lucky.

#MDZS #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #Lanzhan #Weiying #Wangxian #JustADreamForUsMDZS #JustADreamForUs #mdzs fanfiction #A/B/O Universe #魏婴 #魏无羡 #蓝湛 #蓝忘机 #Alpha LWJ #Omega WWX

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fortheheavenssake · 4 years

Text

MM ANON II - 1

April 15, 2020

1. April 15

MM ANON …… doctor gone batty……… LA for dummies ……… Doctors Within Borders ……… social insistence ………… hugs not bugs……… absolutely isolated Kate. ……… “ not a whisper ma’am ……… St George’s chapel of course!!…………… with humility skippy, with humility.

Mm anon verified

MM ANON … to forgive Devine. To accept ones shortcomings is a hard pill to swallow especially if like myself your behaviour Is mired in self justification and blind contempt … it’s taken me a long time to ask forgiveness ……… and pride is a killer of the spiritual light. To those who can find forgiveness on their heart I thank them, humbly and sincerely. ……… MM ANON

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3. April 30

MM ANON ……… the only virus ………… wonderful children to hug…… magnificent isolation ma’am……… dirty Megan,clean Harry ……… will never be the same ………… big things for a future princess ……… home cooking ………… “ ground control to major Tom” ………. “ and wash your bloody hands!!!……… an archificial birthday ………… trooping the colours???

Thank you! Happy to have you back!😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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4. April 30

MM Anon

MM ANON …… Many thanks skippy ……… a privilege to return to you all ……… graciously thankful to pg , skippy and all anons. Callidus er populum

Welcome back….😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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5. May 1.

MM ANON … it’ll cost us thousands …… “ ‘‘tis the times’ plague , when madmen led the blind “……… 🎼 all the clubs have been closed down 🎼………… “ if you both don’t stop fighting I’ll send you to Madagascar “ ………… “ one makes ones bed”…………… “ well wash your bloody hands AGAIN!!”…………… “ there so funny on screen Philip” …… Quo victuals est super eam et irrumabo …………… next slide please.

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6. May 2.

MM ANON ……… bless all who come here……… stay safe ……… not sneezing season ……… birthday girls world following ……… sitting on the toilet screaming and howling ……… Plasma fantazma?……… 🎼give a little bit 🎼……… “ I swear ,I’ll send you to bloody Madagascar “……… “another top up sir”………” leave the poor man be Philip “……… “no ma’am not yet” ……… Wilfred!!!!!………… “ Bloody Wilfred!!”……… conspirators will spread another sort of virus.

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7. May 3

MM ANON ………Lucrezia Markle……… For her own well-being … she’s kicking and sedated ……… safety net for Harry ……… a very private LOCK-down ………” GATEWAY“intervention …… “NHS Catherine , Sterling work darling “ …………” yes ,I love Frozen 2” ………… PTA……… “ your experience would be valued ma’am”……… “ I myself am best when least in company “……… absque misericordia

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8. May 4

MM ANON …… granny flap…… delusions of gran-tour…… “ aye, some wantid er’ but Walt dis-ney “…… a p****hub offer worth millions …… a secret return …… Lottie leaded Cambridge assault ……… “ a very prominent speech for VE DAY ma’am”. …… unlocking the unlock able ………… 🎼day by day…🎼………… pause ,pray, proceed. …… optimistic optimism???

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9. May 5

MM ANON …… Thank Dear anon for interpretation …… and yes if you’re struggling dear pg … prayers and hugs

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10. May 5

MM ANON ……… “ hi Kate , how wonderful to hear your voice “😂😂😂………… Archificialy archificial. ……… 🎼but sometimes,ya get what ya need🎼……… “ if you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue “……… a Duchess,a Duchess and a Duchess walked onto a bar……… tunc non transiet ……… an infectious tube……… my my margarita ……… let go let god. ……… ( and Thank skippy).

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11. May 6

MM ANON ………… archificial anniversary ……… “she hasn’t a bloody clue “ ………I speak for Meghan ……… 🎼he’s a real nowhere man🎼……… “ the fool doth think he is wise…… “………… 🎼come fly with me (not)🎼……… A few weeks more …………” we do the outside first Philip” ……… Bloody jigsaw………” Sydney!!!!! “……… “ Mmmmm , interesting, a virtual Balcony “ …………… “ yes , a new medal is appropriate” ………… unlockdown!!! ………… “ give us a hug”.

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12. May 6

MM ANON ……… Sooooooo , where is Harry in the duck / rabbit video????????????????? An archificial attempt to ingratiate herself as a mother of a surrogate child. She looks a tad sheepish 🐏🐏🐏🐏🐏🐏🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑🐑. 😂😂😂😂

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13. May 7

MM ANON … Spider Sandwiches ………… the photographic phenomenon ………… “O Christ, she knows her way round a Cannon” ……… “ modest, small and incremental “ ……… “ she’s still spitting bullets over the duchesses children “ ……… “ my goodness, Charlotte trumps everyone”. ………… another modest outfit. ……… the books a flop, who would buy it? ……… “ dada duck duck”…………”ANOTHER sex tape!!!!! “…………… her irrelevant life………… desperately seeking ANYTHING………… a sad demise Rachael!!

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14. May 7

MM ANON …… dear and inquisitive anons ……… THE RIDDLES ARE “ ENTERTAINMENT “ only, a parody and lightness of spirit and soul! It’s a privilege to be here , by the grace of Skippy …………… enjoy!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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15. VE Day 75, May 8

MM ANON …… My mother was a plotter at Northolt fighter base in 1943 where she met my father who was a pilot, I remember her saying that the Polish pilots were the bravest men she ever met. ………… we shall remember them 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

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16. May 8

MM ANON …… The Queen, god bless her……… blackout ……… the king/ the Queen the nation ……… never give up, never despair ……… the home front……… 🎼some sunny day 🎼………… 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧………… 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸……… 🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦……… and all who fought ……… a day like no other……… at the going down of the sun and in the morning ……………… ‘ we shall remember them.

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17. May 9

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜MM ANON ……… Dear pg , your gracious tribute to the riddle. I Ended the post in tears ………………… respect.

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18. May 9

MM ANON …… “ it’s an unlock Jim, but not as we know it “……… on yer bike……… 🎼that’s life,……🎼………… Bar Wars………… survival of the fit-test……………”a vulgar mansion “…………… Spider sandwiches……… an emotional exhibition, Bravo!! ……… now that’s TRUE grit…………… be- bop-a-loo-la RIP��…… The Serenity prayer……thank you for this forum xxxxx…………… it will end ,…one day!!

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19. May 10

MM ANON ……… Rachel 43………… archificial 15 months ……… hospitality will become inhospitable ………… the R factor ………… “Henry, don’t do that”. …… return to school??? …………… no guidelines …………… be alert,the country needs lerts………… risk assessment!!! ………… an issue of safety ………… it’s the economy,stupid!! ………… test, Trace and isolate. ………… a silver lining 🌈🌈

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20. May 11

MM ANON …… Thrive???………… definitely Malibu ………wear a mask ………… confusing but amusing ……… a question of credibility ……… 🎼 we can be heroes ……🎼…” what ever happened to wrinkle cream?”……… love and hugs to all our anon friends ……… 🎼 now there are three steps to heaven 🎼………… Brave New World ……… a quiet Queen.

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21. May 13

MM ANON …… for saving my mother ……… father ……… grandmother …… grandfather …son ……… sister……… brother……… daughter ………… thank you for saving my life nurse / doctor /……… how can I EVER thank you all ……… from the bottom of my ❣ ……… I can never find the words ……… my gratitude is unending ……… god bless you all. ……… GOD BLESS YOU ALL!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

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22. May 13

MM ANON ……… “come on Kate, off to Queens”……… Charlotte goes first……… “George ‘ get your bicycle “……… 🎼bye bye miss American spy🎼……… 🎼listen , do you want to know a secret 🎼……… stay alert 🤣🤣🤣……… trains, planes and automobiles……… driving miss day-see? ……… FOUR!!!! …………… an art gallery,when??……… single prayers please.

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23. May 13.

MM ANON …………… to all who visit ………… riddles are entertainment only … a parody ,a light and fluffy expression. 🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂Thank you all for understanding.

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24. May 14

MM ANON …… school of thought ……… bulldoze in and takeover ……… Braveheart & Boris ………… dead theatre ……… GOT………… Charlotte summer ……… anticipation of antibodies ………… China???………… death of Hollywood ………… 🎼blow a little whistle 🎼………… we have no plan B……… I’m so bored ………… “ we’re gonna need a bigger fence”

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25. May 15

MM ANON ……… a lovely surprise ……… sweet Charlotte ……… it’s teaching Jim, ……………”Harry, you know you’ll always have a place “……………”he’s not happy Catherine “ ……… R1………… re-train………… clubbings, clubbed…… Tea-CHING…………… “ yes, that’s a really good question”…………2 metres for ever???………… a rally in Calais. ………… GBHMTQAOGC 🇬🇧🌈🇨🇦

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26. May 16

MM ANON …… “ I’m keeping my tennis shoes on”……… “I’m not getting out of bed for less than 3mill” …… cold nose undercover ………… a learning yearning ………… “friends thou hast, and there adoption tried “…… …… 🎼ya gotta give a little 🎼……………… “I’m not happy about them returning William “ …………… “ One needs ones hair attended too”………… “ I’ll bloody cut it myself !!”……… “ I know!! … SYDNEY!!”

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27. May 17

MM ANON …… a Diamond evaluator ……… Of no consequence whatsoever ……… straight to credits. ………… LA Confidential ………… 🎼no sir I don’t mean maybe 🎼…………… 🎼Don’t fence me in🎼…………… “ I want Adele you a story “……………… The man from U.N.C.L.E. Harry …………… “ ones lockdown sucks” ………… “ miserable without Boddys old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s slacking “.

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28. May 18

MM ANON ……… a personal loss………… the Dynamic Duo………… FPhishing……Nlcola Nike Snike ………… Hydroxy- foxy(do not do this at home)…………………” a suitable case for ( shhhhh) treatment “ ………… “ no comment “ …………… “ a game of cards old thing “…………… “patience Philip ……………” ………… ma’am , it’s Charlotte and George on tic-toc…………… “dance, gan, gan, you dance, … Sydney!!

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29. May 19

MM ANON …… Ana-adversity …… the gathering marital storm…………” first family visit will be the United States when normalisation hits ma’am” …………”life will return ma’am”……… Who is that? …………… guesting the testing ……… “ they won’t return early ma’am”…………… “one speaks to Catherine,daily , and the little ones” ……… “it’s interminable Sydney,” …” a Little top-up sir”

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30. May 20

MM ANON … Regarding the gathering of unhappy people, slutmeg only invited the men she had slept with , with their +ones ……… the members of the RF who attended treating it as a pantomime and a priceless observation of side- eyes and laughter. HMTQ look at slutmeg… EPIC. 😂😂😂😂😂😱😱😱😱😱

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31. May 20

MM ANON ……… 5 years old ‘ COVID security ……… transmission admission??……… 1st. June. …………… A pollution solution ………… free at last……… kiss 💋 me 😱😱😱………… another Father???…………… Spanish,French and judo 😂😂😂…………… lies,damm lies, and MM……… an expensive squat………… A Greece-y gamble. ………… “ is one sitting comfortably’ good, Once apon a time “

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32. May 21

MM ANON …… “what , seen at Lympstone “………… a Diplomatic retreat ……… A-Nul-ment………… NY bio-diver-city……… facegrime ………… Charles, a man for all see-sons……… thermal Heathrow ………… 1st Solo address ………… high-end-ing ………… “ clever children, such a lovely dance”……… “ no darlings gan-pops with Sydney “………… “ yes’ we’ll all bake a cake “………… “ pretty Jim-jams Charlotte “.

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33. May 22

MM ANON …… 88 two fat ladies ……… two blacked out Discovery’s in St Leonard’s ……… Priti Draconian …… pray,or else!! ………… gel my temperature ……… wash your hands then wrinkle cream ……… a memorial event ………… Hong-Gone…………” well, wake him up Sydney!!………… “bloody hell Sydney “ ………… “ sorry ma’am , Charlotte wants to play bingo”……… “ wonderful , clickerty duck”

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34. May 23

MM ANON …… 44 million? ………… anons’ how much on clothes?………… “still looked trash”………… evidences of past yachting 😱😱😱😱😱………… LA EX?? ………… “ in Exeter”…………… “ Josh Stones!!“………… a second peak? ……………not in Spain 🥳🥳🥳………… meanwhile in WC. ……… “ gan gan I want a tiara “ ………… “ and one day you shall “ ……… “ is nanny back Catherine?”……… “where’s my bloody slippers “ ……” your wearing them sir”

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35. May 23

ANON … As we all submit our little posts give a thought for the reason we can , it’s the ever faithful skippy and her eclectic forum ……… love, prayers, animals, history, royalty, and silliness ……… god bless you dear skippy 💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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36. May 24

MM ANON …… Cummings going?………Lottie nottie going ……… Harry’s 💡 idea……… “give birth? Incapable!! ……… “during yachting “………… “ I’ve seen the evidence “ ………… “ she lied to TBRF” ……… MOS knows!! …… 🎼we’re all going on a summer 🎼………… to pray or not pray………… “ Pleeeeez gan gan!! “……… “ one day you shall sweet girl” ……… “ next year , if things are admissible “ ……… “ he’s a tad grumpy ma’am”……… “ ignore him Sydney”

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37. May 25

MM ANON …… Charlottes WWWeb……… Rules, What Rules. ……… in flight,flight. ………… Tinsel down……… hugs not bugs ………… non essential retailers open ………… no pubs, sport , cinemas, theatres, …………… Cummings,a shaggy dog story. ……… a very angry electorate ………… “ I want to go school gan gan”………“let’s see your dancing “………”no, school gan gan!!……… “ Oooooo, whats mummy doing “ ………… “ Sydney, refreshments ‘please.

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38. May 25

MM ANON …… MEMORIAL DAY …IN HONOUR OF THEIR SERVICE ……………… 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇬🇧

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39. May 26

MM ANON …… Kate re-opening high street……… “excellent, as retail ambassador “……… W&K will have the public’s ear” …………”a late family tour ma’am’……… “ that’ll put a a Kate among the pidgins” …… “ a damaging tome sir “……… “ opening book shops, how’ll that work?……… “you can’t handle books……… “ o’ Philip, a quiet night”…… “ bloody hell !! What’ no tic-toc ?……… “nanny’s organised bingo”:…… “ ahhh, ……… Sydney ‘ something strong!!

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40. May 27

MM ANON …… KATE MIDDLETON IS A FUTURE QUEEN! She has three beautiful children and a loving husband, solid, grounded and intelligent. THIS IS THE FUTURE OF OUR MONARCHY ,I THINK SHE HAS MORE SPIRITUAL STRENGTH. AND WILL BE THE FOUNDATION OF THE CAMBRIDGE FUTURE. GBHMTQAOGC 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

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41. May 27

MM ANON ………”I get tired of Lottie tic-toc-ing” ………… “little Louis gets tired using the trampoline “……… “ I’m off to Queens,tennis “……… back on his Ducati……… Nanny is making 🥘 paella ………… “I’ve managed to acquire that box set ma’am” …… “ Gangs of London or The Sopranos“……… both ma’am”……… “bloody epic Sydney “……… “ is that bumbling Minister still running round the palace “……… “ tell him to piss-orf”……… “ top-ups”

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42. May 28

MM ANON …… MM drone ing on…… tittle Tatler ……… lockdown tour T-shirt ………… ahhhhhhh, rate!! ……… school digital haves’ digital have nots……… rid the clap!! ………… one metre ………… “ it’s football Jim, but not as we know it “………… “To his good friends, thus wide lle ope my Armes: ……… “ look Philip,it’s Louis bouncing “ ……… “they have a new dance”……… “ return of a routine“…………” Maria and Lottie swimming “ …… “bloody hydrotherapy on Sunday “……… “ I think that’s enough Sydney “

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43. May 29

MM ANON ……… looting/ shooting ………… “ tic-toc Nanny”………… “ ok! Charlotte, get Louis too” ……… “ George,do it properly “……… W&K , It’s a challenging schedule ma’am” …………” there having a bike day at Brands Hatch with Ducati “ ……… “ Nottingham cottage ma’am”………… “like old times ma’ am”……………” I’ll have a quiet word with Donald “………… “ not Philip, his diplomacy is wanting”………… “exiting times ma’am”……… “ one shall insist on compliance Christopher “

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44. May 30

MM ANON …………… another billionaire friend ………… she lies on lies…………desperate for attention ……… a roadmap to nowhere ……… up up and away ……… all white on the night …………LTA talks with Kate ………… MENSA with Charlotte??………… “ bright as a button ma’am”. …… “ not this side of the family “………” there coming over next week”………” Mmmmm , live tic-toc”……… fairycakes Sydney.

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45. May 31

MM ANON …… it Musk be love ……… nine elms………… agent provocateur ………… teetering on the edge………… body cams?? ………… amateur photographers unite ………… front line statue ……… 🎼I heard it on the grapevine 🎼………… “ no darling not today”……” we’re going to visit gan gan” …………”staying overnight ma’am” ………… “ a few days Sydney “………… “ tomorrow night, it’s a little concert Philip, don’t get grumpy “ ………… “bloody hell, I’m low on refreshments. “

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46. June 01

MM ANON … Balmoral Fern………… plastic Nile. ………… in the Bunker ………… Autopsy …………………Truth , Justice and the American way ………… WC welcome …………… “ would one know how to barbecue Sydney??” ………… William will oblige ma’am……”one prefers coronation chicken “…………… “unicorn sausages ,Lottie George??……… “just salad ma’am. “

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47. June 02

MM ANON ……… keep your distance ………” it’s a curfew Jim , but not as we know it “ …… “ A plague o’ both your houses “……… house today , gone tomorrow ………… “all lives matter “ …………… cut and roots and streaks ……… B&EC are reluctant to return ………… Minister misleads testing ……… office of national ridistics ……… 🎼I I see a bad moon rising 🎼………… blackout Tuesday ………… “ “wear a body-cam old thing, then I can pretend I’m riding “ …………… “one would look ridiculous Philip!!”……… “ Sydney, stop pouring “

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48. June 03

MM ANON …… 2020 another royal baby ………… development in Portugal ……… more charges eminent Minnesota ……… a wet summer ………… ISS a strange smell? ……… … London protests …………NAACP……… size 12 , and the shoes 👠 ……………” mummy , mummy- goes viral ………” we’ll old thing, I wasn’t expecting that ending “……… “ so enjoyable Philip ‘ anymore Sydney?……… “ I think Catherine has Peaky-Blinders ma’am” …… “ is it a bit GBH ? “ ……… “ yes ma’am”……… “Ohhhh goody”.

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49. June 04

MM ANON ……MM heartfelt acting……… W&K just heartfelt 💓………… the Tatler connection ………… 🎼stormy weather …………… 🎼………… MadDog…………2nd degree. X 4……………… 14 days to binge. ……… a Russian contamination …………vaccine summit ……… ”that’s a terrible selfie Philip, it’ll frighten her” ………” let Sydney do it!! “ ……… “take one together ma’am” ……… “ give me the bloody thing !! “ …… bloody tic-toc “ ………… “ one zooms” ……… “get him some refreshments Sydney”

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50. June 04

MM ANON …… “ Heartfelt video “ anything heartfelt in the life of MM is self indulgent. A selfish PR attempt to seem engaged in the national conciseness Her agenda …… “how can I make this about ME!!! “ this woman is so shallow. ………… a Caucasian of infinite insults. A pitifully example of insecurity and ego. A walking talking resentment. God help her!!

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51. June 5

MM ANON …… never look a gift bandwagon in the mouth…… everyone is crawling out the woodwork ……… “I’m covert 19 , fly me” ……… M&H on the March??? ………… over 40,000………… flight attendant/ ……… the dodgy R…………… mandatory masks ………… The Amazon too ??? ………… online celebrity … “ There here Philip “ …………” one has to distance darlings “ …… “ yes there lovely shoes” ……… “ look Philip, live tic-toc “………” it’s wonderful wonderful “ ………… “amazing, he’s shot up “ ………” shall we have a little refreshments?”

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52. June 6

MM ANON …… the battle of Whitehall ……… agent Provocateurs………new trading …… it’s a Sunday Jim ,but not as we know it ………… social distancing got wet……… antibodies have the answer ……… R is above 1 in the SWest Of England. 😱😱😱😱……… second spike😱😱😱………🎼when I was 65 ,it was a very good year 🎼………… “ look it’s mummies wedding “ ……… “it’s mummy gan gan” ……… “ yes , so pretty the coach “ ………” I want one “ ……… “ one day sweetie, one day” ………” will you come gan gan ? “ ………… “ I’ll try darling “.

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53. June 7

MM ANON …… I’d like to thank pg /LK and all the anons who attempt/ solve and interpretations of the riddles that skippy graciously lets me post 💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💓💓💓🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧Many thanks to all those who partake.

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54. June 7

MM ANON ……who’s her next favourite millionaire ……… Malibu?? ……… NYC??……… another sad video cry for help ……… archificial ( firsts words) 🤣🤣🤣………… mad / bad & dangerous to know ……… “ it’s me, me film me!! ………… “ turn around!! “ ……… “ he’s not letting her agenda rule” ………” this is not up for debate “………… “yes ones looking forward to traveling up there “ ………” get in touch with the Gillie” …………… “ can one travel to ones other residence?…………… “ can’t find my bloody glasses, Sydney!!

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55. June 8

MM ANON ……D.O.J.……… A Stern retort. ………… the sept. Soothsayer ……… A 14 day suicide for the trade………… in court today ……… Beatrice tooo tu!! …………… wonderful Wessex……… more photos from Kate??? ……… no fuss birthday ………… “ shall one suggest a gathering of 8 .” ………” no, silly’ Balmoral?? ……… MM desperatum iri videbatur……

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56. June 9

MM ANON ……… everyone and their brother,brother ……… wow!! What a photo Kate!!…………… little Louis gets a surprise …………… a well rounded future of three( four) ……… A birthday tic-toc dance………… “ do Catherine , come and bring the children “………… “maybe a change of routine “………… “ Both of you are an example hope”……… “ yes George,I’ll see if we can get to a match”

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57. June 10

MM ANON … Gone……………everything is now B&W…………… “ but’ tomorrow is another day”………… “ but old thing, I look like bloody Bela Lugosi” ………… “ shutup Philip”……… “ just Take the bloody picture “.………”they’ve hardly ever been on a train William “………… “ yes , they’d be very excited 😜 “ ………… 🎼we’re all going to the zoo tomorrow 🎼…………… she lies for exposure……… yachting’ secret exposure !! …………… this time it’s explosive!! ………… “ great scoop Beth.”

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58. June 11.

MM ANON …… dib dib dib……… one metre before July …………care-ing monarch online ……… 🎼What picture,what a photograph 🎼………… DOC museum of photography ? ………. Columbus falls……… “ I shall insist it’s the best TTC old thing “ …………a trace race. ………… Sunday Balmoral?? ………… “ plenty of fresh air for them” ……… “ in the lodge” ……… “C&C can stay here” ……………” your good at this zoom lark old thing “…………… “Group Of eight, a dinner party

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59. June 12

MM ANON …… for the anon who thinks she has superior knowledge of the riddles and has a problem with the wonderful interpretations of LK and pg. ……… I suggest you join the other ignorant anons who pay us a fleeting visit ……………THEN DISAPPEAR!! Skippy, we’re the ones who love you 💜💜💜💜💜

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60. June 12

MM ANON …… my BFF , sacked……… mr President,welcome ……… on mental health ‘ goal……… “they’ll still turn up old thing “………… “ they won’t see anything Philip “ ……… Boris,incandescent!! ……… “🍕 Pizza night children “………… “ thecrown old thing “ ……… “ NO!!” ………… “ we haven’t finished peakyblinders” ……… “ bloody brummies” ……… “ PHILIP!!………… Sydney ‘ we’re out of your refreshment sir “ ………… WHAT!!

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61. June 13

MM ANON …HMTQ was social distancing ……… beautiful in blue……… “ amazing bloody parade “…… to Broach the subject …… “ you looked magnificent old thing”. ……… KHAN GET IT RIGHT …… a WEE disturbing …… hugs 🤗 not bugs……… the China syndrome ……… open market 😱😱😱………… won’t ring Beijing …………… “ Ahhh, Sydney, you refreshed the refreshments “ ………” ignore him Sydney “………… “ I found an old vidio TTC , 1975 Old thing, our favourite hits” ……… “ those were ones days” ………” we looked the mutts-nuts old thing

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62. June 14

MM ANON …… Adeleville……… Westfield?? ………… Charlottes delivery …………… 🎼grab the cash with both hands🎼………… another scam charity …………… she’s a race… ist ………… she publishes the book ………………… we will destroy her, we have the tapes…… “ no more Mrs, nice ma’am!! “ ………… “ ones gloves are orf Christopher ………… “ it was a very good year,old thing “.

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63. June 15.

MM ANON ……… Shetland lift-off……… LIZA with a ‘ don’t know em……………” it’s shopping Jim, but not as we show it……… “ matter of fact it’s all dark” …………… first jet easy ………… Brexit,old white guys drinking a lot. …………… a moment of reckoning ……… a virtual Wimbledon?? ………… Catherine to the rescue …… “ Ahhh , a relaxing night old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s provided a new box set” …… “Boardwalk Empire” ………“ bit violent old thing” ……… “ Epic Philip!!”…… “ones usual Sydney “………… “great!! No bloody tic toc.

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64. June 16

MM ANON …… “she Ascot nothing on me” ………… para-thanks William ……… PC , LOST weight??…………Oxford,Oxford ……… STIR-oid ………U-Turn dinner …………… falling tragedy ………… the Paris peasants are revolting ……… ……… “ we can still dress-up cabbage 🥬 “ ………… “Anne, my yellow ensemble”……… “Sydney ‘ a photo”………… “that’s a keeper, old thing” ……… “ here we go , tic-toc, the three of them” ………… “O, and Catherine!!” ………… “ ehhhh, And William “ ………… “ make it a double Sydney “…… “ how entertaining Philip “

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65. June 17

MM ANON … Goal no goal, offside!! …………red zone……… rear ended,whoops!! ………… saliva sample ………… another rally?? …………… a £ 900,000 paint job. ………… madam NYC incognito …………ZOOM to William ……… mutant outbreak confirmed ……………… NDA bombshell. …………joining the UN? …………… Chile lockdown ………”how many episodes old thing “ ………… “ yes , that Nucky chappie is a tad violent” ………… “ she’s meeting at Wimbledon “……………… “ Nanny’s taking them to the zoo”

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66. June 18

MM ANON ……… “NEVER………… “ ………” mon dieu” …… 🎼some sunny day 🎼……… “ good to meet again Mr President “………air corridor ……… “ to be honest,he was an obnoxious old bastard” ……… world beating 🍒……… non app- licable …… “ Bolt-hole. ………… self interest ……… BOE- more money!! …………… pepper sprayed……… “ O Philip, it’s the last one “……… “Always Downton Abbey old thing”

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67. June 19

MM ANON …… HMTQ boost……… cup cakes in kings-him ………… Garden-send-her ……… September kids ………… hack Australia ………… Bei-ching ………… Charlotte & George together ………… no longer alert ?? ………… “ get packed Philip we’re orf soon” ………debt, what debt? ……… slave day………… ONS………… “ bubble bubble- toil and trouble” ……… 🎼teach your children well🎼………… “Sydney ‘ don’t forget my tigger PJs”……… 🎼swing low,sweet chariot 🎼………… “ Cabbage ‘ it’s tic-toc time”.

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68. June 20

MM ANON ……… Hello!! ………… “ It’s a rally Jim , ……… viva espana ………… 🎼drink, drink, drink,🎼…………… black wall……… MM , another agenda!! ………… bollotics ………… “ Kate and William,the children are with nanny “ ………… “ Dover Sole and lemon parfait old thing “………… cream caramel,and Irish coffee Sydney!! ………… “September 9th ma’am. …… “ Stay over Catherine “

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69. June 21

MM ANON … give us a hug………… Duchess of Cambridge Royal collection ……… in the footsteps of lord Lichfield ………… EOS C700 Christmas present … … “ slow the testing down”…………Kung-flu…………… Size matters………… reopening NYC……… “ get ya hair 💇🏽‍♀️💇🏼‍♂️cut” …………… “ 🙋‍♂️🙋‍♀️🍺 “ ………… Rachel for president?? …………… archificial daddy day?? ……… spotted in St Johns Wood.

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70. June 22

MM ANON ……… noose-car……… Ahhhh, Germany……… BOE-meltdown ………… free at last………… testing the TEST!! 🏏……… Terrorisk ………… ONE ,small step………”I think She’s turning Japanese”………… Saint Lennox …………… A rush of wind…………… “ well now you’re free to be reunited with the little monsters”……… “ bloody hell’ what a joy” ………… “ O Philip ‘ hugs 🤗 lots of hugs” ………… “ and live tic-toc , I can hardly wait “ ………” I’ll have to muster some liquid courage, Sydney!! “

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71. June 25

MM ANON ……”they seek him there” ……… your services are no longer required ……… street rumble ……… phwew, wot a scorcher………… we’ll fight them on the beaches ………… it’s sunburn Jim , but not as we know it ………… mutation sensation ……………🎼you’ll neeeeeeever walk alone🎼……………… sign on the million dotted line ………… take the TRASH out…………… “ a letter ma’am”.

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27 notes · View notes

capsized-heart · 4 years

Text

Little Lamb

Pairing: vampire!Wanda Maximoff x Reader, incubus!Quentin Beck x Reader

Summary: Your simple life in the Sokovian countryside is no more. The events of a single night disrupt the natural order of your world. God is silent. He always is.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: (oh boy..) violence, blood, gore, sacrilegious imagery, explicit smut

A/N: This is my entry for @thewritingdoll‘s freaky500 writing challenge! Congrats on 500 followers! <3 I wish I could have finished this before yesterday’s deadline, especially before Halloween since this shit is so dark aha

I had a lot of fun with this! I honestly wish I could have done more bc I could write about Wanda and Quentin forever..I feel like I had to restrain myself a bit. I really like how both Wanda and Quentin can see someone’s deepest fears and thought that dynamic would be really cool for an au.

I was also inspired to write this after seeing this beautiful moodboard by @tohomorii...you honestly killed it with that Wanda vampire aesthetic.

using the quote prompt, “He’s covered in blood again. Why is it he’s always covered in blood?” -harry potter and the half blood prince

Sokovia, 17th century.

Dawn breaks with rosy hues and warm, vibrant gold. The soft, streaky clouds of early autumn float lazily by, stippling the sky with pinks and baby blues. Your eyes follow a flock of blackbirds as they flicker across a patch of sunlit horizon in a melodious chortle, climbing and climbing beyond to lofty heavens. You smile.

Your purse jingles with the sound of newfound coin. You’ve had a productive morning at market, having left your family homestead yesterday afternoon for the day’s ride. You’d sold your stock of bread and eggs to Ms. Ryba, homemade jams to old Dmitri, trading your other goods for the groceries mother had asked of you. As a surprise, you’d also purchased a small leatherbound book for your papa, a new piece of stitching work and silks for mama. Gifts carefully wrapped in linen and secured in your saddlebag, a small bit of happiness glowing in the crook of your ribs. Your heart feels full. You finger the crucifix around your neck.

Times have been hard for you and your family. This summer’s harvest had been exceptionally low with heat and droughts. Money has never been a luxury and you’ve been broken with the disciplines of how to bargain hard, conserve, safeguard, and how to put the needs of your parents before your own.

These gifts will bring favor and approval to their eyes. A godly daughter. Honor thy father and thy mother.

You tilt your face upwards to the flushed morning, relish the fresh breeze tickling your skin and murmur a quick prayer of thanks.

O God, who hast folded back the mantle of the night to clothe us in the golden glory of the day, chase from our hearts all gloomy thoughts, and make us glad with the brightness of hope, that we may effectively aspire to unwon virtues, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

You ride atop Iryna, your family’s tender Carpathian pony now weighed down with your spoils, and watch the fields of your homeland ripple in red and honey light. Even Iryna seems to sense your good mood as her head bobs with her quick gait. You balance a basket of apples in your lap, a reward that you had purchased for her (and for yourself) after a long day’s journey.

This is a safe country, not at all uncommon for young peasant girls to ride to market alone. Broad plains and cut mountains, you’d passed your closest neighbors about ten miles back, welcome solitude on each homestead.

You like to spend your time on these rides daydreaming of riding in a royal procession as princess, or as cavalry returning from battle abroad. How you would be welcomed back home to your kingdom!

Smoke curls from your cottage chimney as the edge of your family’s property comes into view. You squeeze your heels against Iryna in encouragement and she trots faster, the promise of a waiting breakfast and the smiles of your mother and father urging you forward.

The smell of hay and manure greets you as you lead Iryna into the barn. You adjust your skirts, woolen tunic, riding cloak, and wimplet before dismounting, careful not to catch anything on your saddle or packages. You slide off Iryna’s bridle and feed her an apple, rubbing soothing circles into her neck as she devours the fruit, snorting happily.

You give her fresh feed, change her water, quickly removing your tack and supplies and turn her out into the pasture, whispering a promise to give her a thorough brushing later. She gallops away with a swish of her tail. With your arms full of supplies and balancing your bushel of apples, you kick through dust and dirt and enter your cottage.

You’re about to call out to your mama when your voice stops in your throat. The nauseating stench of rot fills your nose, familiar and ominous, like when papa slaughters the chickens for winter stock. Only this time it’s inside your home.

Your arms go limp and your packages fall to the floor in a muffled thud of wrapped paper. Apples bounce, scatter, rolling through soot and blood.

Your father lies crumpled, his strong body disfigured in a tangle of limbs. His skull has been crushed into a crown of grey matter and gore, leaking like tears down the planes of his face. His eyes and mouth hang open in a frozen, silent scream, twisted skyward in agony. Protectively draped over your mother in his final moments.

Your mother is spread-eagled with her throat slit open and her veil stuffed into her mouth, rosary beads crudely circled tight around her wrists in manacles. Her skirts have been torn, bunched around her thighs and you see violet bruises in the shape of hands.

You stumble to the hearth and wretch up bile and water. You heave, vomit, tears stinging your eyes and mucus dribbling down your chin until there is nothing left in your stomach but a wriggling pit of nerves. You can’t breathe, can’t think. Strength evaporates from your body and you sink in front of the cooling embers of the fireplace.

You look to the bodies of your parents. You don’t bother trying to feel for a pulse. You are numb.

You stay beside them until the light outside turns bleak and grey, until your legs ache from kneeling on hard wooden floor for countless hours. Slowly, finally, you wipe your mouth, lift yourself up.

You find the scythe used to harvest wheat. It feels good and heavy in your hands, makes you feel strong. You make rounds to the rest of the property with it tight in your grip.

Your homestead has been completely ransacked. What livestock that hasn’t been stolen lies dead, slain and swarmed by flies. You’re left with one cow, six chickens, two goats, and Iryna.

You salvage whatever raw materials you can. You return the scythe back to the shed, unused, the sharp, pristine metal gleaming a cool blue. Part of you had hoped that the intruders still lurked about. Maybe then you could have descended upon them with all the silent wrath of Jael, as she had killed Sisera.

You whistle a low blast. Iryna trots over to you, nuzzles your hand for another treat. It makes you smile and fresh tears to drip down your cheeks. You wonder if she can sense anything awry, sense that your entire world has been violently turned on its head. You don’t think you’ll ever crave apples again.

They’ll only taste of sin.

It takes you well into the night to dig two deep holes. The ground is frigid with frost and your breath clouds, fogging the air as you work the soil in an eerie echo of familiar, mundane times. Instead of the sun, the moon guides your hand. Instead of toiling the fields to lay in crops, you prepare the graves of your mother and father.

Sweat slicks your skin, dirt streaking down your neck and arms. The moon has dipped below the hillside when you finish, plunging you in complete darkness. You thrust the spade into the ground.

You are not strong enough to carry the bodies of your parents. You will have to tie them to Iryna and bring them here to the fields. But you cannot tonight with the last of the moonlight gone.

And tomorrow is the day of the Sabbath, your holy day of rest. You will have to wait to bury them.

You hug yourself tight. From the cold, from the juvenile fear of death and despair.

Did Christ not feel this way upon the cross? Abandoned by his own father? Alone?

And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" that is, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

You rise late. Fatigue still sits deep in your bones when you go and collect eggs and milk for your breakfast. You step over your mother and father. Splattered blood, now dry, ring around their heads in crimson halos.

You spend the day idly. You read the book you had bought for your father, practice your stitching with the embroidery hoop and silks meant for your mother. You heat water for a bath and sprinkle in some of the salts and oils she kept tucked away in her bedroom. You wash away tears and dirt and grime.

You relish the hot water as it seeps into your tense muscles, watch the milky surface ripple around your limbs. The cottage is quiet and seems to settle around you.

You were always the last to bathe out of your small family. You would be told to fetch and heat the water, waiting until your father finished, then your mother. By the time it was your turn, the bathwater was always cold and dirty. You were not allowed to change it out as it was costly and a waste of time. You would be quick to rinse.

Now, you sit until your fingers becomes wrinkled and pruny, your skin and hair fragranced with the smell of rose petals and lavender. There is no one to scold you to hurry up.

Iryna watches over you as you pack the last of the dirt over the burials. You’re both exhausted. You finish at midday. You finger the crucifix around your neck.

O God, grant unto us, in this dying life, that peace for which we humbly pray, and hereafter to attain unto everlasting joy in Thy presence; through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

You pass your days in solitude and in fear. You wonder if the bandits will return. It makes you pray harder, harder than you have in your entire life. You ask for forgiveness, for protection, for salvation.

The windy autumn nights bring chills and unease. The windows rattle in their frames, the cottage groans, and the goats bleat in the pressing darkness.

Visions of your murdered parents dance behind your eyelids. A crown of gore, blood red tears, suffocating rosary beads. The possibility of specters and demons and Satan’s lurking servants seem to hide behind each darkened corner. The homestead feels too vast, too isolating. You feel yourself slowly going mad, every howl of curling wind making you shudder in your cot.

You ask for companionship. A friend to share company.

A young woman’s voice calls out to you. The day is abnormally warm and you’re hanging laundry to dry in the sun when you first lay eyes on her.

She wears a riding cloak and veil, a pretty woolen dress of fine cardinal fabric. Her hair falls in loose waves down to her chest, catching the sunlight in a gleam of muted copper.

She leads the most magnificent looking horse you’ve ever seen. A towering black Clydesdale that stands eighteen hands high with a glossy coat and tail, powerful muscles moving with every stride. Curiously, you see no saddle or tack, only the leather bridle she uses to guide him.

When you approach her, the young woman asks if you are master of the house. You respond with, yes. She smiles and takes your hands in hers, inquiring if she may stay for a few nights before continuing her journey to the next town. She says she will pay you with coin and labor, with whatever help you may need around the property.

The gesture surprises you. Travelers are few in this stretch of country and your family has never housed one before. But, you think of how turning this woman away would mean another day’s ride for her until she reached the next homestead. As you’ve understood, these trails are no longer safe. Especially for a young woman riding alone.

When you agree to offer her lodging, she blesses you with another radiant smile and kisses your cheeks. It’s enduring, warms your heart and tingles your fingers still laced with her own.

As promised, Wanda helps you with your chores. She does not ask about your family or parents or why a young girl of your age could indeed be master of a homestead all by herself. You do not ask why a beautiful woman is traveling alone. Instead, she carefully listens to your instructions and assists you perfectly.

You’ve just finished gathering firewood when the two of you head to the barn to tend to your few and precious livestock. You muck out stalls, change hay and water. Wanda’s Clydesdale watches you from one of the extra stalls you’ve placed him in.

When Wanda tries to lead out Iryna, she flinches away and flattens her ears in a shrill whinny. It catches you both off guard and you quickly take the rope from Wanda’s hands before Iryna can hurt herself, placating her with a low hush.

“She does not like me.” Wanda frowns. It’s charmingly youthful, makes her look like a pouting child.

“She is not used to strangers,” you soothe, smiling gently. You return Iryna to her stall and slide the door shut. “What is your Clydesdale’s name?” You ask.

Wanda’s mood seems to lift instantly and you catch a glimmer in her hazel eyes. “Paimon,” she tells you. “Paimon is friendly to everyone, especially strangers. But, he loves pretty girls most of all.”

Later, you invite her into your home and the two of you relax your tired bones by the evening fire.

The days grow cold and dark. You and Wanda now share the bed of your late parents, bigger and warmer than your own. You awake each glowing morning with her slender arms wrapped tight around your waist, her face buried into the crook of your neck.

For warmth, you tell yourself.

Her sighs, her moans in sleep stir something in the pit of your stomach.

You’re unsure of what other reason you would prefer.

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

Wind and rain whistle against the glass panes of your cottage. It is a dreary, bleak morning of storm, one that has forced you and Wanda to remain inside. A fire crackles in the hearth and throws dancing shadows along the walls. You sit and read while Wanda busies herself with housework. It is the first time you’ve felt peace in months.

She returns from the pantry, setting down her washcloth and bucket with a faint groan. You look up.

Warm, flickering light highlights the skin of her collarbones and cheeks. Wanda has plaited back her hair to keep it out of her eyes, save for a few wispy strands that fall to frame her face.

You swallow, enraptured.

She catches you staring and her irises seem to glow brighter with firelight. She turns slowly, sauntering towards you with measured, delicate steps.

“Little one, didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s impolite to stare?” she whispers. She walks until she is flush against you and the fabric of her dress brushes your toes. Without looking away, she eases the book out of your hands and sets it facedown on the table. Your father’s bible.

Your mouth dries up, your pulse hammers.

Wanda tilts her head, her expression clouding. Then, she sinks to her knees to straddle you completely, arms winding around your neck.

“Sweet girl, when I ask you a question, I expect a response.”

Her fingers trace your jaw, looking down at you with a stern, flinty gaze. You find your hands holding the swell of her hips, pulling her closer.

“Those who see you will stare and wonder, ‘Is this the man who made the world tremble and shook up kingdoms?’” you recite into the ever closing gap between your mouths. She sighs, high and breathless, feel her overheated body slowly start to move against you.

Your lips and tongue meet in a tangled kiss. Your first. She tastes of myrtle and honeyed milk. You feel yourself falling when you gently cup this young woman’s face in your hands, kissing and touching and her fingers lustfully twisting into the nape of your neck. Dizzy, ashamed. Your skin is on fire.

You think of Lucifer’s wings burning away as He hurtled towards earth.

“I’m so thirsty, my love. Thirsty for you,” Wanda gasps. Her pupils are blown impossibly wide, ringed in red. Her canines glint in the darkness. “Will you let me drink?”

You remember Iryna’s skittishness, Wanda’s beast of a horse, Paimon. No saddle, no luggage. A lone, beautiful woman wandering the countryside with exquisite eyes and sharp, sharp teeth. A devil in masquerade who never intended to leave.

Slowly, you untie the strings of your dress’s blouse and expose your shoulders, the dip of your chest. Wanda’s lips part hungrily, the shadow of her eyelashes fluttering like feathers.

She sets you back and runs her fingers over the thin skin of your neck. Her touch is smooth, gentle. Then, she leans over you, keeping you still with a single hand wrapped deliciously around your throat, pressing you deeper into the wooden chair.

The bite of teeth, then white pleasure. Your vision rolls and you writhe against her in a fit of sighs and otherworldly bliss. Suction, flickering tongue, the obscene sounds of her mouth devouring you whole. You moan, cage her against your body and you hear her chuckle.

Blood trails down her throat and drips between her breasts when she finally sits back, sated. Half-lidded eyes gazing down at you with more love and adoration than you’ve ever known.

You are her blessed wine.

Take this, all of you, and drink from it,

for this is the chalice of my Blood,

the Blood of the new and everlasting covenant,

which will be shed for you and for all

so that sins may be forgiven.

Do this in memory of me.

“Amen.” she murmurs with a kiss.

God is silent. He always is.

Wanda pulls you atop her. She cradles your face, smooths back your hair as she looks up at you in the silvered morning light.

“Little one, would you like to live forever?”

The question takes you by surprise, makes you pause. She takes the opportunity to kiss your fingertips, arch her hips into you. It makes your breath hitch, but your mind is clear.

“As long as it’s with you.”

She grins, gleaming and bright, the first glimpse of sun you’ve seen in this godforsaken autumn.

“Oh, my sweet little bride, my princess of night.” she sighs.

“Yes,” you whimper.

She gazes into your mind and sees what you’ve always wanted.

Wanda prepares for the ritual that very evening. Candles, parchment, a single serrated knife.

She bathes the two of you in the shared tub, washes your hair and cleanses you, a mock baptism with soap and scented oils. Her fingers wander, coaxing pleasure as you lean back against her.

Finally, she guides you to the bed when the world outside stands cold, silent, watching, at the cusp between night and day.

Wanda eases your finger between her lips and pricks the skin with the point of her teeth. Her eyes flutter before reluctantly removing it, a string of saliva following suit. You watch the single bead of blood bloom and sign the parchment with a steady hand.

Cold air brushes your cheeks, skin tingling as if touched, breath in your ear. You feel your vision haze in and out of focus, a foreign sensation overcoming your body.

Then, a young man appears before you. He’s tall and lean and handsomely bearded, dark hair curling against his forehead, down the tufts of his chest and arms. His eyes, green and glimmering, inspect you carefully, tracing every curve of your exposed skin. You feel achingly vulnerable, pinned.

Your eyes trail lower and lower until…

You find that he is completely bare. You flush and turn to hide your face into Wanda’s shoulder. She chuckles, gently takes your chin in her hand and tilts your gaze back onto him.

“This is the flesh of Adam, sweet one,” she murmurs. “It is not shameful to lust. Did God not create man in his own image?”

Wanda reaches out her other hand in offering and the man takes it, lowers himself onto the bed. There is an air of familiarity between the two of them as they share a kiss of greeting.

“Welcome, Quentin.” she hums. She fondly runs her thumb along his cheek and he leans into her touch. Quentin’s eyes then flicker to you.

“Is this my gift?” he asks. His voice is soft, sweet like honey. Wanda hums again. Quentin smiles warmly, looking you up and down. Your blood ignites.

With one hand on both of your faces, she guides you and Quentin together. He kisses you, surprisingly soft and gentle, cradling your jaw with a touch that makes your stomach flutter. You hear Wanda moving, feel her touch.

Some of the tension wound tight in your shoulders evaporates with Wanda beside you. It encourages you to be braver, bolder as you kiss the incubus back more urgently, touch his skin. Quentin responds with a purr and tangles a hand in your hair, mouthing at your neck, tracing your puncture wounds with a soothing, possessive tongue.

He draws you upon his lap, still pulled flush against him and the heat of him so close to the most intimate part of your anatomy makes you timid, afraid.

“Relax, lamb.” he whispers. “Enjoy this, enjoy us.”

The broad touch of his fingers against you makes you mewl in surprise. Wanda hushes you with a soft kiss, takes one of your hands in hers. Quentin’s palm rests on the plane of your stomach, his other easing into where you’re most aching and tight, where a man’s strong touch has never breached.

He slowly guides your hips upon his hand, until his fingers glisten with your slick and your body starts to warm with the glow of angelfire.

“Keep going, little lamb,” Quentin urges into your ear. “You know how, don’t you? Those lonely nights when your parents lay fast asleep abed?”

You moan. Indeed you do. Nights where darkness was most suffocating and you prayed that God would turn a blind eye to your lust.

You shatter with the heat of hell rain. With your body still clenching and fluttering, Quentin lays you out beneath him, his eyes darker, lips turned up into a sly smile. You’re breathless.

He feels cold when he enters you, a sensation you would have least expected from a creature molded by burning sin and Lucifer’s fire. Yet, it pushes your poor, mortal flesh to the thresholds of pleasure and you reach for Wanda, keening. Wanda slinks closer and pushes your hair out of your eyes.

“How does she feel?”

“Like a dream,” Quentin moans, laughing. “You want Wanda and I both, lamb? I can see it in your mind’s eye. So needy, you are. I’ll give you what you want, lamb. You’re doing so good for me.”

You don’t remember waking up. A blood moon hangs in the sky.

You feel the lull of pleasure, of Quentin’s lush curls buried between your thighs. Your fingers catch on horns, his velvety tongue forked as it slips into you.

Your world blurs around you, dreamlike.

Again, you reach for Wanda and she laces your fingers together with a smile, kisses your damp forehead.

“Is this real?” you moan into her neck.

“As real as your God, sweet one. Are you ready to come home?”

You nod, drowsy with euphoria. You see Wanda take up the silver knife and again, you offer your hand.

You wince when she slices open your palm, watch the blood seep over and down your arm in great drops. Quentin lifts his head from between your legs, intoxicatingly beautiful with shining lips and heat in his eyes. He keeps his gaze on you as he drives into you again, as your hand stains his chest and neck with crimson, ravishing you again and again. You feel Wanda’s tongue and then the bite of her fangs.

You arch, reborn with the blessing of immortality and pressed between two demons.

You wonder how many times these two have completed a ritual like this, with Quentin’s powerful body covered in virgin’s blood.

His blessed cup.

And the Lamb will overcome them, because He is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those who are with Him are the called and chosen and faithful.

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claudiablanche · 4 years

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✧ ━━ the courts of switzerland present CLAUDIA BLANCHE VON SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN of GERMANY, the FIRST PROTECTOR of the TEUTONIC ORDER. the TWENTY-FIVE year old has been GUILEFUL and ABSOLUTE before the break of war but has now become HAUGHTY and POWER-HUNGRY. SHE is often remembered by her likeness to ELIZABETH DEBICKI and THE THRUM OF FARAWAY DESTRIER STALLIONS IN WARS BYGONE ; CALLOUSED PALMS SLIDING BENEATH A TORN SILK BODICE ; THE INVIGORATING WEIGHT OF A JEWELED CROWN RIGHTFULLY CLAIMED. the rumour mills of europe claim that her allegiance lies with HERSELF and that she is for WAR.

FATAL FLAW.

what retributive, wrathful seeds you have sown in your gardens of dark / how cruelly you have seduced your child to bite the fruits they yield.

tw: physical abuse

Before she was Prinzessin Claudia, announced for the first time in twenty-five years to an awestruck court that had believed her dead, she was Ritter Helena of the Teutonic Order, an iron-clad maiden who, on an ivory steed, single-handedly blooded and seized masses of territory for the Holy Roman Empire. There were other names, too, given to her for this particularly glorious era—War-Monger, Sun-Bringer, First Protector of the Empire, Prophet of the Father—but it was Helena by which Konrad called her. And where Claudia would have happily pierced his gut clean with her Christened blade, a younger, blinder Helena answered to no other name but the one he gave her.

After all, before she would conquer men and kingdoms in his name, she would conquer needlework and morning mass first as young Freiin Lena: knees rubbed raw from praying at an altar she’d rather spit on, mouth twisted permanently in rebuke, knuckles bruised purple and red by thin-lipped teachers who’d have subjected her to worse if it weren’t for the Emperor’s enduring favor. This is where she learned obedience—eventually, anyway. Before Konrad dragged her out to the battlefield for play, he taught her control and composure: the rhythmic precision of embroidery, the patience needed to recite page after page of Latin scripture, the necessity of being able to sit at a table without upending it in a fit; staining her gown in shades of spilt wine; cutting herself on the shattered glass. The maids who cleaned up Lena’s messes would whisper amongst themselves derisively: Now what kind of lady is this? What feral little thing has the Emperor plucked so lovingly from the filthy loins of war? Why does he continue to spoil her, when she presents nothing but unbridled fury, but monstrous rage?

And all the while, Konrad himself would watch Lena struggle, and cry, and snarl, with nothing but absolution in his eyes. Her wilderness, her chaos, her hurt—where did it all come from? Ah. He knew.

For before she was a Freiin, she was nothing at all. They said he’d found her tucked away in the rubble of a ravaged land, a weak babe fussing and keening for survival. They said merciful, pious Konrad had sensed something in her: a greatness, a divine calling, an affection that compelled him to rescue and take her under his wing. She was less than a daughter, but greater than a subject. She was given her own land and title, but denied the luxurious spoils other children of imperial favor enjoyed. In fact, she remained shrouded from the public eye for years to come: locked away in some undisclosed tower, unheard from and unspoken to.

It was harsh of him, perhaps, to begin at such a young age. Some would say cruel; others insisted it was a stern kindness needed to lift her into glory. To the little girl in the tower, it was simply how the world worked: in endless jabs and cuts, in broken bones and shorn hair—fighting tooth and nail, slammed to the ground over and over until it no longer frightened her to fall. Before she ever wore a gown, she wore armor; before she ever held a needle, she held a blade. Konrad’s best generals taught her, then would bring squires and older boys to drive the lessons home: in barracks, in stables, in dead black fields—

Day after laborious day, year after unrelenting year; he was teaching her, slowly, how to fight—but more than that, he was teaching her wrath. It was important to the Emperor that his weaponry was not only functional, but doused in a rich, dark fury that would ensure her success. He sowed these seeds of rage deep, deep within her: every split lip, cracked rib, denied privilege, clear prejudice a means to cultivate something truly, truly dangerous.

And he did. Perhaps, more than he has anticipated.

For now, Claudia is a woman truly worth fearing. The years have aged her like honey wine: she is a valkyrie on the field, a vixen in the courts—and carries with her at all times an inaccessible air of perfect, stoic control. Those who see her now, the poised princess returned to a joyous Germany, seated calmly at a table with nothing but a pair of cold blue eyes for accessory—they would not believe she is, deep down, made of molten ire. They would not believe the havoc she wrecked in the wake of the discovery of her birthright: the broken jewelry and splintered bed frames and torn shirts—and Konrad’s blood, caked beneath her nails from the one good swipe she got in before they finally subdued her. Since then, her anger appears to have dissipated, smothered out as she’s matured into a regal womanhood; but in fact, it sits like a fire in the pit of her stomach, both an engine and hazard.

She has grievances, an appetite for vengeance, an inability to forgive—and with all of that, an increasingly volatile, out-of-control temper to match.

TASTES.

what blood i cannot spill on fields of war, i lick from a lover’s lips / what violence i abstain from in daylight, i pursue beneath exotic moons.

tw: sex, unequal power dynamics, internalized misogyny

The Princess of Germany is, by unanimous agreement of anyone who is asked, an unconventional one. She is a knight, and a war hero, and stands at a height so great she—quite literally—towers over any suitor who would dare court her. Indeed, princess, for as short an expanse of time she has occupied the title, is one Claudia has decisively outgrown. Her most curious, and scandalous, point of unconventionality, however, has to do with her choice of companionship; or lack thereof.

At twenty-five years of age, Claudia is young for a knight, but old for an unmarried maiden. Predictably, she has refused any offers both prior and after her return as princess—and given her intentions to continue serving on the battlefield, has made it clear that marriage is and likely never will be a serious consideration. A declaration so bold would fare worse for someone positioned less uniquely than she, but such is Claudia’s stance on the matter—and so it has been respected.

Of course, being unwed does not mean the young woman is without an appetite. In fact, Claudia is an extremely sexual being: she is austere, unromantic, and wholly uninvested in anything but her own future—but possesses an energetic carnality and sophisticated sense of eroticism all the same. Men, however, do not interest her: in youth, they were her foul tormentors and fixed enemies; in war, her brothers in arms and family; and in womanhood, they have proven themselves to be her cunning keepers, her foolish kings, and her negligent gods. Men have consistently wounded her, betrayed her, or simply failed to measure up. No, Claudia finds them entirely unappealing, and more importantly, untrustworthy. If she had once harbored affections for any man at all, the feeling has been cleanly discarded of; at the very least, she refuses to acknowledge it.

Which leaves women. Women, with their soft voices, smooth skin, long hair—graced with an anatomy Claudia is familiar with, knows how to work with ruthlessness. They are not loud and brutish as men are—but rather, speak with their eyes and hands. Many are intelligent, and know the same truth as Claudia: that this world was not meant to carry them safely into and out of the world. So we must carry each other, and ourselves instead. Claudia even loved one such woman, a long time ago. But just as there are beautiful, precious women in the world, there are even more worthless ones. Conniving women who would see her ruined; desperate women who plead with her in the mornings to be saved and loved and lavished; unmemorable, meek, resigned women who have lost any agency of their own to better their luck. Women who take it like whores and don’t complain.

Then again, it’s oddly thrilling, isn’t it? To bruise her up, to hold her down until she shakes, to push her legs apart and tear her to pieces until she looks at you the way women look at men: helplessly, adoringly, fearfully. It feels briefly powerful to be wanted like that, to know you can hurt, and hurt, and hurt—and she won’t hurt you back.

REFINEMENT.

joan’s downfall: not knowing when to stop kissing God’s wrist, and start biting it. / who needs martyrdom? this is my empire. i strike the flint. i set the torches.

Claudia is a study in duology: she carries herself with both the graceful severity of a knight, and the coy entitlement of an imperial heir. Perhaps she is an unconventional one, but Claudia, in many ways, is a princess. She wasn’t ever pampered or swaddled in opulence, but raised all the same to believe she was deserving of it: every strike against her cheek, every bitter night spent shivering in the dark an unspoken promise of her worthiness. At some point, she understood why things were made so difficult for her: it was because Konrad believed she could do more, be better, rise to extraordinary heights. If an Emperor saw as much radiant potential in her—why oughtn’t she see the same in herself? Besides, few can say with Claudia’s same self-assuredness that they have worked hard enough to deserve anything they please.

Claudia, therefore, is not shy about her desires and standards of quality. She is neither spoiled nor overindulgent, unlikely to splurge on useless merriments, but is unabashedly particular with what she does feel is necessary and proper for a woman of her standing to possess. The few material goods she holds dear have each been carefully curated and adjusted to her exact liking. Her stallion is a white destrier, purebred and an unparallelled companion in warfare; her diadem a halo of luminescent gold, embellished with tasteful sets of Chinese jades, Portuguese sapphires, Russian alexandrites, each piece of jewelry imported from a different corner of her someday-empire. Her selection of gowns remain remarkably slim and extravagant for royalty, but each dress is tailored to immaculate perfection, cut from fine silks and dyed in rich shades royal purple, deep cerulean, vivid crimson. The same quality of care, if not more, is given to her armory and weaponry—each piece of iron casted and crafted under her watchful eye.

Some may call it vanity, but Claudia answers to dignity. She has always believed in excellent living: holding oneself in high regard the same way one is held to high expectations. When all is said and done, it would be unfitting to adorn a future Empress in anything less than the very best her Empire can offer.

#bgintro #( hi everyone! excited to be here hehe )

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lovedroughtff · 5 years

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Chapter 1~ Emotions

It's over and done But the heartache lives on inside And who is the one you're clinging to instead of me tonight? And where are you now, now that I need you? Tears on my pillow wherever you go go I cry me a river that leads to your ocean You never see me fall apart In the words of a broken heart It's just emotions taking me over Caught up in sorrow Lost in the song But if you don't come back Come home to me, darling Don't you know there's nobody left in this world to hold me tight Don't you know there's nobody left in this world to kiss goodnight Goodnight, goodnight

Sienna

I sighed, getting off of the ground wiping the dirt off of my knees, and making sure that I did the same for Brielle.

“Mommy, I’m hungry.” She said as I picked her up and started to carry her away from the gravesite

“I know, me too Bri, we're eating at grandma’s and baba’s house.” I told her once we got to the car.

She started to wiggle from excitement in my arms, which made me laugh on such a bad day.

“Cmon silly girl, we gotta go!” I said strapping her into her seat. Once I made sure she was secure, I walked around to my side to get in the car. But I had to pray first.

“Lord, please give me the strength today. I really need it.”

I looked at the tombstone again, and got back into the car before I started to cry.

Leaving the cemetery was a struggle, but I knew that I couldn’t stay here without breaking down like I did every year when I came. Today was the day that the love of my life, Julian was brutally murdered. He was my high school sweetheart, and it’s been seven years since he was killed, yet it hurts like it was yesterday.

My sisters were cooing over my stomach and rubbing, as I just told them that I was pregnant. Even though, I’m only 20 right now, I couldn’t wait to have this baby. Julian and I decided to keep the pregnancy a secret, especially since once we told our parents we knew shit would hit the fan. But also, to make sure that nothing happened to the baby.

I was four months pregnant today, and barely showing, and glad for it.

“Does Mama and Baba know?” Kristen asked,

I nodded, “Baba nearly put JuJu through the wall in the kitchen. I had to stop him from hurting him.” Chuckling at the thought.

Baba is Persian for Dad.

“Of course he would, you know Baba doesn’t play about us.” Rocky laughed.

We were all light hearted and cracking jokes and making up baby names for my and Julian’s child, when his younger sister called me. I picked it up still laughing with my sisters.

“Hey Jilly-“ I paused and sat up once I heard her crying.

“Sienna, you gotta get to St. Mary’s Now!” She sobbed.

“What’s the matter Jilly?”

My sisters were now concerned at the nervousness in my face and how my body stiffened while being on the phone.

“He was shot Sienna! You gotta get here now!”

“W-who was shot?”

I started trembling at the thought, that I knew exactly who she was talking about.

I didn’t even hear her when she said Julian’s name, I just dropped the phone with tears running down my face.

He was dead by the time that I made it to the hospital. Brielle never got to meet her father, and doesn’t know his side of the family.

I blinked coming to as I looked up and noticed we were at my parent’s house. I don’t even know how I got here. I really was on auto-pilot today.

I looked in the backseat and saw Bri knocked out cold and I thought it was the cutest thing, she looked so much like Ju it was scary.

I picked her up and carried her into the busy house that had all of my siblings and my parents. I laughed when Bash, my 14 year old brother, nearly ran into me.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Sissy.” He said calling my nickname once he realized who I was carrying.

“It’s fine Bash, can you take her to her room please? My daughter is heavy.” I smiled.

He nodded, “I think it’s a shame that she has a better room than I do, and I live here.” He laughed, carefully taking Bri out of my arms making sure that she didn’t wake up.

“Thank you Bash!” I said kissing his forehead, right before he ran up the stairs.

“No problem.”

When he was out of my sight, I let go of my exterior and frowned. I didn’t know how I was going to get through tonight like this. I was miserable and sad, all I wanted to do was fall asleep cuddling my daughter in my bed.

I left from the front of the house and started walking towards the living room and past the kitchen when I heard a commotion come from in there.

“Salvador! Please get out of my kitchen!!” I heard my mother yell, if she was calling Baba by his first name she really was pissed.

“Alright, Alright, I’m leaving!” He said with his hands in the air, retreating from the kitchen.

I laugh catching his attention.

“Oh Sienna! How’s my baby girl?” He asked engulfing me in the biggest hug. I smiled laughing at his excitement to see me and his thick accent.

“I’m fine Dad. Thank you for asking.” I mumbled in his chest, He gave the best hugs. I honestly felt myself smiling once he let me go.

“I know that Julian was a great love, and today is tough. But I know he is looking down on you and Brielle from above.” He spoke.

I nodded appreciating the words that he was telling me.

“You know I always liked him.”

That had me crying, “Baba, you know that was a lie, you tried to severely hurt him once you found out I was pregnant with Bri.”

He shrugged his shoulders and muttered things in Persian.

“Ay! Baba. What are you talking about!” Kristen yelled, I guess she heard him rambling when she came into the house.

“He said he liked Ju and I told him that was a lie,” I chuckled trying to hide my smile at the fact that my step-father was still rambling on.

Kristen just shook her head, “Baba, please. English.”

He rolled his eyes, “You understand me either way.”

We nodded, that was true.

“Salvador, Leave the Vivienne and Violet alone!” Ma shooed as she came out of the kitchen

He started speaking in Persian and waving his hands around, then walked off, still rambling. Mom was totally confused, but Kristen and I were damn near on the floor.

“What is he muttering on about.” Mom looked at us.

“Long story short, He said “Your Maman is crazy!” And started talking about you kicking him out of the kitchen.”

Mom rolled her eyes, “Your father is nuts!”

We both shook our heads and let mom rant while walking in the kitchen.

“Where you coming from Kris?” I asked her

She shrugged, “Daddy’s house, with all the other siblings. He says Hi and if you need anything to call him.”

I nodded, Her dad always cared for me.

My family dynamic is interesting to say the least. My mother is Valentina Harris- Jimenez and I don’t know who my real father is. My mom had me at 17 and from what she tells me, my father was extremely older than her and that when she found out she was pregnant at 16, she told my dad and he dropped the bomb on her that he was married with children, and walked out. She never saw him again. My mom doesn’t talk about my father and I don’t ask. Besides my mother and I, I have younger siblings consisting of four sisters and one brother.

Kristen is 2 years younger than me and her dad is Tony Hayes. He was like a father to me and then mom and Tony split up. He has 3 other kids by his wife.

Then there’s my baba. Salvador- But everyone calls him Mateo. He literally took Kristen and I under his wings and raised us with my mom. He also fathered my little sisters Rocky, Ari and my brother Bash.

Kristen and I love Baba like he is our own dad and he loves us just like were his own daughters.

“Hello, earth to Sienna!” Rocky snapped her fingers in my face

I rolled my eyes, Rocky and I hardly ever got along, she was always argumentative and I never understood that.

“Yes Raquel?” I was already annoyed.

She tightened her lips, “I was asking you if you were okay, being that today is the day your boyfriend got killed, but never mind then.” She walked past me, but not without bumping my shoulder.

“You don’t have to be a bitch all the time, Veronica.” Kristen called out.

“Dont give a shit Violet.” She called back

Ari was coming down the stairs with Bash and Brielle on her heels.

“I guess we know who got Baba’s temper.” She said

Ari came to hug me and Kristen picked up Brielle.

Before we could even talk, mom came out of the kitchen, “TIME TO EAT!”

I whispered in my head, “Thank you God”, because I could not answer another question about Julian.

Ace

Laying in my bed, I played in her perfect straight black hair that she had just got done. We were both sweaty and sticky, but it was fun to get this way with her.

“What are you thinking about?” Dahlia asked me.

I shrugged, “Nothing really, I like your hair like this.”

“Like what?” She shifted herself and the covers, so that she could look at me , but it just showed her naked body even more.

“I like it straight, I know you prefer curly hair but I like your hair straight.”

She made a mhm sound, and got up from the bed going into the bathroom. Sitting up, I watched as her fat ass swayed in my bathroom

“You like to tease me huh?” I called out

She poked her head out of the bathroom, “Of Course, why wouldn’t I, Papi?” She smirks going back into the bathroom,

Dahlia and I have had a very long on and off relationship since we were kids. We lost our virginities together, had pregnancy scares, went through a miscarriage, a lot of ups and downs. She cheated on me when we were younger as well, and I stopped fucking with her, for years. She broke my heart and made me become heartless, but I still love her.

A friends with benefits kind of situation. That’s all I can allow to happen, because I don’t trust her, but I still only want to be with her.

I heard the shower start, so I slipped on some boxers and shorts and made my way downstairs.

I was shocked when I saw Austin and Cash in my kitchen.

“Niggas, the keys I gave you are in case of emergencies only.” I was annoyed as shit that they were here. Especially since D is upstairs.

“This was an emergency. We were hungry.” Austin mumbled while shoveling my left over pasta in his mouth.

I wanted that, I smacked my lips.

“How long y’all been here.” I muttered while looking in my fridge.

“Long enough to hear you fucking some hoe.” Cash said, while looking at her phone.

“She’s not a hoe.”

I turned around to put the ingredients to my breakfast on the counter so I could start cooking.

“Who was it?” Austin asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” I mumbled.

I know that caused them to look at each other, because they got extremely quiet. After a few minutes of me cooking and Austin and Cash playing with each other, I was glad they didn’t ask me anymore questions.

“Ash!!” Dahlia called out, and I sighed, because I knew I was about to get an earful from my sister and best friend.

She came in the kitchen and stopped once she saw them.

Dahlia cleared her throat, “Hey Austin, Autumn.”

“What’s up D?” Austin said, he hugged her and I could tell that she had missed hanging out with him.

Cash didn’t say anything, except throw death glares at her.

Once her hug from Austin was over, she came and hugged me and kissed me on the lips. She whispered in my ear, “I had a great time last night and this morning, maybe next time we can do this without an audience.”

I smirked and laughed, “Lemme walk you out D.”

We walked out the kitchen and she grabbed the remaining of her stuff before walking out of the door. Leaving the house and going to my driveway, both of us were silent, until we reached the car. I spun her towards me and gave her a very passionate kiss. She moaned and I immediately wanted to bend her on the hood of her car and take her.

“D, you can stay.” I mumbled against her lips, grabbing her ass.

She shook her head, “I can’t I got shit to handle, and plus your sister would literally kill me.” She got out of my hold and started to get into the car.

“I don’t know why she hates me.” D mumbled.

That instantly pissed me off, “You know exactly why she hates you.”

Seeing me get irritated, she sighed, “I know, and I apologized many times Ash.” I didn’t respond.

“I love you.” She said looking at me, I didn’t respond again, I just stared at my feet.

I heard her hurt and looked up at her, “I love you too, call me when you get home.”

She nodded and got in and drove off.

I turned around to see Cash and Austin standing in my window. Cash looked pissed as fuck. I sighed knowing exactly where this was going.

Three hours, three hours is how long my sister yelled at me for messing with Dahlia. And she’s still fucking going.

“AUTUMN! FUCK! I get you! You don’t want me fuckin with Dahlia again. I get it.”

“No! You don’t because you were literally just fucking her a few hours ago. How could you put your dick in that bitch!” She yelled in my face.

She was taking this shit too far.

“Because I actually love her!! I wanted to marry her! You need to stop disrespecting her” I Yelled back

“How, How do you love her! You literally let this bitch walk all over you, she cheated on you constantly and here you are. Letting her back in.”

“Mind your fucking business Cash.” I mumbled.

“What? You mad? Cause you know I’m right? Huh.”

“Cash, stop.” Austin mumbled, He knew that if I got too mad that I would be on a rampage.

“No. You wanna talk about how you love that girl? That bitch didn’t have a miscarriage, she had an abortion and you know it.” Cash spat at me.

My head snapped to her, and before I could even do anything, Austin stood in front of me. He pointed to the stairs.

“Go cool off.”

I let out an angry groan, and stomped towards the stairs, I bumped shoulders with Autumn and walked to my basement door.

Before I left, “Both of y’all get the fuck out of my house and leave y’all fucking keys!” I yelled, and slammed the door.

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magnoliasinbloom · 5 years

Text

Lullaby

~~~

Claire finds herself pregnant and her life changed forever. Who will truly be there for her when she needs it?

~~~

AO3 :: Previously

Chapter 1

The pregnancy test showed two pink lines. Not even I could have fooled myself into thinking it was only one. There was the second one, insolent and bold. If I squinted my eyes, it looked paler, but not really. The tears came soon after, blurring everything in front of me. Oh God, no no no.

This is it, I thought, my life is over. What am I going to do? I slid down the bathroom wall until I was sitting on the floor, sniffling and crying. I was almost eighteen, about to start nursing school. I had it all planned out. My sobs threatened to overcome me, so I pressed my hand over my mouth hard. They turned into a stifled choking, a sound more like a wounded animal than a human might make. Everything else was too quiet around me, it was so late. If anyone had heard me, they would think I was crazy. And they would probably be right.

Waiting for that stupid test to tell me whether I was pregnant or not had been the longest, hardest two minutes of my life. I spent those two minutes reading the instructions on the box over and over, making sure that I would not misinterpret what I saw on the test. I’d thought it was bad enough going to a drugstore, way out to the far end of Glasgow where no one knew me, just to buy a pregnancy test, but I’d had no idea this was how it would turn out. I’d paced outside Boots in the freezing parking lot, getting up the courage to go inside up to the counter. And then that second line had appeared in the little window, next to the other pink stripe. In that moment, I felt something infinitesimal shift inside me, bending but not breaking. Then my heart started racing, my heart pounded, and the crying began.

A thousand different thoughts swirled inside my mind, each fighting for my attention, but there was no room for anything except my phone. I had to leave the bathroom to find it. I gripped the plastic indicator that had just turned my life upside down, tiptoeing out of the bathroom, even though I knew my parents slept like the dead.

I didn’t know what I was going to tell him, or how. I was afraid of what he might say. Bloody hell, I hated talking on the phone. But it was three in the morning, and there was no one else to talk to. I reached for the mobile like it was a snake, ready to bite me. I decided to hide in my tiny closet, locking the bedroom door behind me for good measure. I sat on the floor, not even bothering to turn on the light. The pregnancy test lay next to me. I called him.

It rang once, twice, three times… a fog tried to creep into my mind, a grey cloud riddled with anxiety as the mobile continued to ring and there was no answer. I prayed it wouldn’t go to voicemail. Nothing made me feel stupider than leaving a message. Normally I wouldn’t have, but this was urgent. I had to talk to him now; I needed to hear the only voice capable of rebuilding my world. Six, seven…

“Claire?”

“This isn’t happening, please tell me it’s not true.” The sound of his voice unraveled me completely. I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth. I started crying in earnest now, and even though I knew I was scaring him I couldn’t help it. I tried to find the right words to start with, but my mind went blank. He probably thought somebody died. I wanted to die.

“Calm down, what’s wrong?” His worried tone was soothing.

“Frank, it’s just that—that—I took a test, and it’s positive. It’s positive, I’m pregnant.”

“What? You’re pregnant?” He sounded confused, and I didn’t blame him.

“I took a home pregnancy test and there’s two pink lines. The box says it means I’m pregnant, but sometimes these things can be wrong. Should I take another one? Do I go to the doctor? What do I do?” I started to shake uncontrollably, the phone slipping from my sweaty hands. Cold shivers ran down my back, and I wasn’t sure whether it was shock or actual cold.

“Wait, wait, calm down.” Frank inhaled slowly and exhaled. God, I didn’t need him to break down, too. I could barely deal with my semi-controlled hysteria; I couldn’t handle his as well. “Everything’s going to be fine, don’t worry. Take it easy, Claire. Tell me.” His voice only shook slightly; that was good, very good.

“They’re going to kill me, they’re going to kill me!” They being my parents, of course. “Do you think they’ll kick me out? I have nowhere to go! I don’t have money of my own yet, Frank, I won’t be able to go to nursing school. How am I going to get a job? They’ll never hire a pregnant teenager!” All these thoughts stalked me, waiting for me to acknowledge them in my panic. I banged my head softly against my knees, fresh tears coursing down my face.

“Claire, it’s alright. Don’t cry.” I wondered how he could manage to be that calm. Maybe he was in a better state of denial than I was. “You’re not alone—I’m here with you. Listen to me, yes?”

Frank hadn’t hung up on me. He was still talking to me. This was good. A measure of relief flooded through me, and I thought I could breathe a little better. “You’re not mad?” I hated to ask, but I had to know. Becoming a father at eighteen was not ideal, either.

“No, I’m not mad. Actually, I think I’m kind of happy.” Frank laughed a little then, but quickly remembered that I was on the verge of a breakdown. “Is that what you thought?”

“Of course I did! I thought a million things!” I hissed. “What am I—what are we going to do? I’m all for a woman’s right to choose, you know that, but… just so you know, an abortion is not the choice for me.” There, I’d said it.

“I know, we’re not discussing that. What do you think we should do?”

“That’s just it, I don’t know. When do I tell my parents? How do I tell my parents?” I started crying in those annoying, choked little whimpers. “What if they throw me out?”

“They won’t throw you out, Claire. They love you, for God’s sake.”

“It’s a possibility I have to consider. Where would I live?” Where would we live, I corrected myself mentally. There were two of us now. I tried to wipe the tears away, but my pajama sleeve was already soaked.

“You could always live with me,” Frank suggested. He was lodged in university housing, and I had no idea how a baby would fit in the tiny apartment. “I can get a job as a research assistant to make ends meet. You could also find work, until the baby’s born.”

“Of course. I mean, we’re in this together, right?” The sense of relief at Frank’s response had left me feeling weak and hollow. I didn’t mind the hollowness, as long as it came with a brief reprieve for my fears.

“We are. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of things. I think your parents will be over the moon about a grandchild. You’ll see.” Frank yawned. “Try and get some sleep. The both of you.”

“Okay,” I laughed uneasily. “I’ll try. Love you.”

“Sleep. Bye.”

I held the mobile tightly in one hand, so hard I thought it might crack. With the other, I searched blindly for the pregnancy test. It was going to be a long wait until morning. Things felt only half-resolved. We hadn’t made any hard and fast decisions. That bothered me, lying like a heavy coat over my shoulders. The weight of a new burden.

But there was still time to talk. Nine months of time, to be precise. I have no idea how I was able to fall asleep that night. I wrapped the test in a wad of tissues and hid it in my nightstand drawer. I curled up on my bed and let my misery have me. I cried for me, for the baby, for my family, for everything that was about to change. I tried to distract my mind, to keep from thinking about the fact that there were two of us lying in the bed now. Exhausted from all the crying, I finally fell asleep. I would never be the same Claire that slept in this bed again.

One last thought crept in as I drifted away: How am I going to tell Jamie?

~~~

A/N: I’ve always thought about the dynamics of Claire being pregnant and Frank as the father. The focus is usually on Frank raising another man’s child. What if the tables were turned?

This story has been written for awhile--years, in fact. It’s all written out, so I can post every Saturday, while “The Midwife: Arc II” is in the works. Takers?

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #jamie and claire #lullaby 1 #trust me #yes Claire is almost 18

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theabominableblogger · 6 years

Text

Rewatching “Gotham” S4E21

*cue both of us with lots of yelling, reacting to frighting imagery, and just being done with everyone*

My sister watched it with me (as well as the other episodes left in my epic “Gotham” reaction series) so my comments will be in bold, and hers will be in regular font. Author’s notes courtesy of me will be bolded and italicized.

AN: I managed to record our reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post.

Sooo... to break your heart, Ecco is not in the rest of the episodes.

Noooooo...

But they [ the writers] explain like why she wasn’t there. They kinda explain that they still wanted to go into the Jeremiah and Bruce story line and finish that.

Ohhhh OK.

They wanted to finish that before they got into the whole [Jeremiah and Ecco dynamic]. Plus, basically what they established is that Jeremiah just wanted her to get out of the way so that he could do his plan and he’s like “OK, then we’re gonna do some shit!”

Sounds fair.

And I’m like “OK! You gotta look out for your boo first!”

‘Look out for your boo,’ I love it.

“Sources tell us Captain James Gordon was at the scene and is missing and feared dead.” Nope!

“I [Lucius] just got off the phone with Search and Rescue. Whatever blew Jeremiah's bunker was catastrophic.” *eyes widen in shock*

“I [Harvey] want CSIs out there pronto, and I want everyone looking for Jeremiah Valeska and Bruce Wayne.” You don’t wanna go looking for him [Jeremiah].

*softly* Nooooo don’t.

“Jim trusts him [Harvey], okay? So everybody get back to work.” Thank you, Harper! MVP!

*Harvey finds Jeremiah waiting outside the precinct* Oh shit!

Whaaa... how?!? What was the time span between these two episodes?

I don’t know...

‘Cause you would think it’s immediate!

Oh I love his [Jeremiah’s] coat!

Uggh. Look at the hat! The glasses!

I love that entire look.

I like the natural lighting too for this scene

“JEREMIAH! JEREMIAH!” Jesus God, he turned them all into stormtroopers!

Ohhhh that’s a great shot [the wide shot of Jeremiah vs the GCPD]

What voice are you [Jeremiah] doing?

It sounds like he’s doing the Hannibal Lecter voice

It’s Hannibal Lecter and Andrew Scott’s Moriarty...

Except without the Irish accent

*mouths along with Jeremiah saying “boom, boom, boom”*

“Don't compare me [Jeremiah] to that short-sighted psychopath.” Dude, we’ve met you for two months!

“I'm [Jeremiah] gonna create a new Gotham in my image. But every artist needs a blank canvas, so all of this has to go.” *leans back in frustration* This is like Theo Galavan in S2!

“Then everyone who dies screaming, who watches their loved ones crushed before them, will have you to thank, Detective Bullock.” *groans*

“Nobody has to die.” SURE JAN!

*eyes widen in shock when Jeremiah blows up the clock tower*

Hoooly shit!

And that was just the opener! We are in for some shit ahead!

“Me [Oswald]? I’d rather live.” *both chuckle*

Ah, I love Robin Lord Taylor.

“They ripped out my [Jongleur’s] fingernails.” *both yell in horror for a second*

“Normally, I [Oswald] would keep both of them for myself. But I find myself a bit short of the necessary manpower- or womanpower, if you will.” I knew you were gonna say that and it’s lame...

“Hugo Strange can fix Butch.” What I wanna know is where exactly is Strange operating now.

That’s a good question.

Because his ass is still alive.

I love how like sassy these two [Oswald and Barbara] are. It’s like, I don’t like Barbara, but she’s got so much sass.

She and Oswald kinda deserve each other honestly.

I know.

They’re each other’s bitchy gay best friends.

Oh yeah.

“Holy Mother of God, Bruce Wayne.” *gasps*

How the hell did he [Bruce] get out of the grave?

God, he [Bruce] is heartbroken! Your boy is heartbroken!

“I’m [Harvey] so sick of that freaking family.” *cackles*

That is a mood! That is a huge mood!

“Wayne Enterprises built those bombs?!?” *groans in frustration*

He didn’t know!

“Look, I [Harvey] know you [Bruce] feel guilty. But Jim Gordon was- is important to all of us.” God, they’re both hurting! So much!

“So go home. Be with Alfred. Be safe.” *whines* ALFRED ISN’T THERE!

I hate this so much

[INCOMING: ALFRED] Oh my God!

“Alfred, where have you been?” “No, not Alfred.” *leans back in chair* SON OF A BITCH!

*groans in frustration*

“I [Jeremiah] hope you [Bruce] didn't catch a cold in my brother's grave. I know those things aren't exactly designed for the living.” *flips off screen with both hands*

Wait, did he [Jeremiah] just turn it off? Did he turn the detonator off ‘cause he clicked it. Or he just set off another bomb.

I thought it was just an intimidation tactic. No, we would have heard a boom.

Oh.

We would have heard a boom if there was another bomb.

“Bruce, let’s get something straight.” Where do you get your [Jeremiah’s] outfits? That’s what I wanna know!

He was already a well dressed son of a bitch before.

I will raid your closet!

“[Jeremiah] You are insane!” *holding head in hands* I thought I was a Pisces...

*laughs* That is the saddest way I’ve heard anyone deliver that line

“Tell the police and I'll know. Just like I [Jeremiah] know that's where you [Bruce] are right now.” How does he know? Is there a spy...

I’d say he’s bluffing.

...on the inside?

*in unison after a good two seconds* HERCULES MULLIGAN!

And he’s [Jim] aliiive!

Well duh!

Leeeeee!!!

God, Jim getting up is such a mood!

He [Jim] grabbed a syringe as a weapon. He’s still konked out.

You are never going to deserve her [Lee], Jim.

“I'll [Jim] have to thank him [Ed] when I arrest him.” You are really terrible at repaying people!

*Jim rips out the IV in his arm* Don’t do thaaat!

Why did you do that?!? Why do people always do that?

“In my jacket I [Jim] got those [plans] from Jeremiah's office. They may give us some clue as to what he's planning.” And you know what, those were hanging in the background in the previous episode.

Yep.

*Jim goes back to sleep* That is the most graceful fall I’ve ever seen.

Selina!

“Bruce, I’m [Selina] gonna be here whenever you need me.” Aaaawww!!

*laughs in pain knowing EXACTLY what happens at the end of this episode*

“He [Jeremiah] wants something out of me [Bruce].” “Like what, to be your best friend?” Yep.

Yeah, actually.

*both gasp and reel back in horror when the first image of Alfred’s torture pops up in the tunnel*

*both immediately hold hands*

“[Lee] You brought him [Jim] here because you thought it would give us leverage with the GCPD.” “Yes.” “By holding him hostage!” *does a WTF shrug*

“This drawing is the key to Valeska's plan. We solve it and we trade the information for clemency.” How good is that gonna do you guys?

*shrugs*

“Or perhaps there’s something more going on.” That’s a safe bet.

Oh my God...

“What happened between Jim and I is over.” *groans in frustration*

“Ed, if this maniac levels half the city, it's gonna disrupt food distribution, water supply, power. The people of the Narrows will suffer the most. We can prevent that, while, at the same time, helping us out of this mess we're in.” OK, yeah, I’m with Lee.

Yeah.

I’m with Lee.

Yeah, that’s a very good point.

“Do it for us.” Don’t kiss him again.

Noooooo!!!

*Lee and Ed kiss* I die a little bit inside every time that happens.

Lucius really is the best.

He is the best.

“But how do we find it? How do we find this brain [the core relay]?” Foregone conclusion: you guys don’t find it.

Ohh that’s a good shot [of Jeremiah walking into the building]! That’s straight out of “Mask of the Phantasm!”

I love it.

*forms an imaginary box around Jeremiah* A LOOK! That is a look!

It really is. With the red gloves!

“I envy you.” You do noooot! Shut up!

“Call our friend. Tell him to kill the butler. He’s no longer necessary.“ *shakes finger at screen* MMM-MMMM!!

You better not! I mean, I know they don’t, but you better not!

Oh my God, I’ve seen this scene!

“Oswald Cobblepot. Barbara Kean. In my stronghold.” It’s less likely than you think!

“And is that my dear Jongleur with my core relay in his hand and a grenade taped to his mouth?” Yes that is!

Holy crap, no, he’s [Oswald] like twirling the [bomb] wire!

Yeeeeppp.

A+ hat removal

“It seems you [Oswald] have the upper hand.” OK, whenever somebody says that, immediately believe that you’re toast!

Those contacts [of Jeremiah’s] are just so unsettling.

They are.

*imitates the way Jeremiah is sitting*

I would like to know who dyed his [Jeremiah’s] hair.

*laughs when Jeremiah rolls his eyes whenever Barbara speaks*

OK, how do they not realize they’re being had? If somebody’s playing it that calm, immediately think something is bad.

“ Well, that and being vastly more intelligent.“ Yeah, he’s basically just telling them right there “Dude, what are you guys doing?”

Oh my God, Penguin, are you that dense?

He’s [Jeremiah] probably calling Ecco. He’s like “Oh my God, can you believe this bullshit?!?”

*chuckles*

Ecco probably dyed his hair. Headcanon. There we go.

“We’re not just gonna hand this thing over and let him destroy Gotham, are we?” “Of course not. Once we get the money, we kill Jeremiah and his people, give the core relay to the police, split the $50 million, and are hailed as the heroes of Gotham!” WHY ARE YOU ADMITTING THAT RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM [Jeremiah]?!?

I think that’s the boom mic. It was a little too close.

They’re saying this right in front of Jeremiah!

I know!

“Can you believe it? They put me on hold?” His phone wasn’t even on the entire time.

*jaw drops when Jeremiah pulls out the bazooka*

WHAT THE SHIT-

*jaws drop when Jongleur gets blown up*

*softly* WHAT THE F-

You realize you ruined your entire plan by destroying the core relay.

“ What’s insane about having a backup plan? Something Jongleur never knew about.” *imitates the way Jeremiah dramatically brushes himself off* Oh I’m sorry, gotta brush myself off!

“And whose fault is it that I changed my mind?” *grabs desk in shock*

I’m altering the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further.

“...kill these idiots.” And he just RUNS!

*chuckles*

Look at ‘im, look at ‘im! Nyoom!

Look at him go!

“Hello, Bruce.” Hi asshole!

“ I imagine you’re wondering, why is Jeremiah doing this?” *puts head on desk* I’M DONE!

“My brother once said, “All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy.” OK no, you don’t get to ape that- oh my God, they are literally doing the “Killing Joke” thing ‘cause he’s got all these things on the walls!

Aaauugghh!

*both put our hands on our heads in horror*

AAAHHHHH I HATE THIS EPISODE. I HATE THIS EPISODE SO MUCH!

*Scarecrow starts breathing* Jesus God...

*whines in shock behind hands*

“I’ve [Jeremiah] instructed Scarecrow to mix up something exceptional.” Oh my God,another one?

*slaps hands on desk in horror*

“Your butler is going to show you the path ahead.” *in unison* Noooo!

Nooo, we’re not doing this!

Noooo!

He’s [Scarecrow] got the fear gauntlets on [from the Arkham games]!

*both instantly freak out when Alfred gets sprayed with the insanity gas*

“I [Ed] want to make one thing very clear. If Gotham becomes a rock pile, I mind zero percent.” Pfftt.

“I’m only helping you [Jim] because I’m with Lee now.” “Fine. Whatever.” *chuckles*

You’re full of shit, Nygma.

“ Ed, Jeremiah Valeska is threatening to destroy half the city. You really think I care if you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you and Lee are a couple? ” EEEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!! YES!!

The man has a point.

“[Jim] You don't believe that Lee could actually love me [Ed], do you?” “Honestly? No.” OH MY GOD, JIM!

“[Ed] You're a psychopath and a murderer. And the fact that you need me [Jim] to validate your crazy fantasy means that you don't believe it either.” *claps excitedly* HOOOOOOOOO!!!

I don’t trust for a second that you [Ed] can carry on a relationship without hurting the woman involved!

“She’s with me in every way.” Freeze him! Put him in ice again!

Please, God. He did less harm that way.

Can we get back to the topic at hand thank you!

“So you're saying that she [Lee] wouldn't be with a killer? And yet she was with you [Jim].” *sits back in frustration* EEEEEDDDDD....

Noo, EEDDD... he’s saying Jim’s worse than him.

OK no...

*groans in frustration*

“Can we do this?” *raises hands in air* Thank you.

*Ed figures out the diagram* It’s a skyline.

Damn...

“Jeremiah lived his entire life in a maze. Now he's trying to remake the city into the place he feels most safe.” “It's actually rather elegant.” Jeremiah’s more of a Riddler than the actual Riddler.

*shrugs*

*shrugs* Yeah...

“Lee and I have some legal knots we need untangled. Before we spend the rest of our lives together.” I’m so done.

Screw you, Eddie!

I’m so done with you!

Now I’m reminded why I didn’t like you!

I liked him in the first half of S4, now it’s just like “Ugh.”

*cheers when Jim knocks out Ed*

THANK YOU! Thank you for that! I would have done it myself!

*gasps when the show cuts back to Barbara and Co. taking out the rest of Jeremiah’s goons*

Ugh, you [Oswald] are so boned...

*claps hands with each word* LET! US! MOVE!

“IS THIS OSWALD?!?” *chuckles*

*chuckles when Harvey abruptly hangs up on Oswald*

*Jim walks back in* Eeeyyy!

There he is!

*smiles when Harvey hugs the crap out of Jim*

“But what matters is, I have the locations of every bomb Jeremiah planted.” Oh he wrote them down!

Auugghh, Jim, when you’re awesome, you’re awesome, and when you suck, you suck.

*sighs* Yeah...

I’m gonna hate this very much...

Ohhhh fear gas!

Ohhhhhhhh, screw that noise.

*gasps when Scarecrow walks up behind Selina*

Aaand that’s him.

OH HE’S GOT A SCYTHE HOLY SHIT

He’s got a scythe...

LOOK AT HIM, HE’S SO COOL!

“I [Scarecrow] think our little experiment is about to get much more interesting.” Oh nononononono...

*Selina starts beating up goons* Oh, go, go, go, go!

“I [Harvey] need this, Jim.” Let him take it.

Ugghh, c’mon guys!

God, Scarecrow looks so cool...

*both freak out when Scarecrow starts swinging his scythe at Selina*

They’re pumping the hallway that Bruce is in with that [fear gas]!

*shakily* Yeah...

So he’s actually seeing a bunch of stuff that isn’t happening.

Yeee-eepp.

*covers hands in horror when we see more of Alfred’s torture*

This is like a Nine Inch Nails music video!

It kinda does...

Jesus Christ...

*both reel back in horror*

“Alfred?” Oh no, did they- noooo....

*puts hands on head in shock*

Noo they didn’t!

*both yell in horror when Fake Alfred gives himself a Glasgow smile*

It’s just fear gas!

It’s fear gas! It’s fake!

It’s fear gas...

It’s fake, it’s fake, it’s fake, fake, fake, fake, fake, fake!

*shakes hands in worry* Oh God...

I DON’T LIKE THIS EPISODE AT AAALLL!!

*sighs* I’m with you there...

*gasps when Fake Alfred slices Bruce’s sweater with the knife*

Oh my God, no...

Where the heck are they?!?

I don’t know...

*Selina finds someone locked behind a door* Is that where Alfred is?

“Brucey... give me a smile!” *jaw drops in horror*

Noo...

Nononononono...

Aaahhhh...

*both cover our mouths in horror when Fake Alfred gets shot and goes over the balcony*

“Scarecrow was just pumping his fear gas in here.” *keels over* I’m done, you guys!

*both keel over in exhaustion when Alfred appears*

That wasn’t him...

“Look, I’m fine. it’s me. It’s Alfred.” *sing songs* Huuuugggg him noooooww!

Please...

Aahhhhh....

“Alfred?” Give this boy a hug, pleeeasseee...

Aaahhhh....

I’ve seen this before, but I’m so worn out... I’m so worn out by this episode...

*sighs* That’s understandable...

We have 11 minutes to go... then we have the finale.

“I [Harvey] don't know what it's [the bomb] supposed to look like, but I think it is exactly what I'm staring at.” Disable it.

Could only wonder how stable that thing [the bomb] is.

*Jeremiah enters the room* Hooo... that is such a sharp suit...

*snorts in hilarity at Jeremiah’s little smirk of approval that he gives his followers*

“No, wait, Harvey, one of the breakers could be the supercharge fail-safe. Whatever you do, do not touch that one.” *raises hands in WTF manner*

Well, which one?!?

Vertigo shot....

Yeeeeeepppp....

“This is a message to the followers of Jeremiah Valeska. Jeremiah claims to have killed me [Jim]. Well, bad news, I’m alive.“ *leans back* Hooooooo...

The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

Whooooo....

“So, just know you’re worshipping a fraud. A pale imitation of Jerome.“ *jaw drops in shock*

“You did your worst, Jeremiah, and I’m still here.” Hooooooooooo!!!

Jim almost died and he’s so done with everything. Drag them!

Oh my God, this is gonna be so great.

*Harvey pulls out one of the breakers* He did it! Please tell me he did it!

*both laugh in relief when Harvey realizes he saved the day*

He did it! YA DID IT, HARVEY!

*Jeremiah realizes he done effed up* Oh schnap.

"SHUT UUUUUUPPPPPPP!” *gasps*

...Shit.

*jaw drops open and covers mouth in shock when Jeremiah starts to laugh to himself*

*under her breath* What the...

He [Jeremiah] just spit on that word [’fickleness’]

*shakily* This music is also very good...

*chuckles* [And he] Runs!

Oh, this is where he- yeeeeeeppp.

*jaw drops when Jeremiah purges his followers*

“Perhaps the outcome was not what we had hoped, - but it was worth the risk.” Everyone’s like “Oswald, shut up.”

Seriously though...

“Let’s go, Butch.” “Nope.” *raises hands in air* Thank you!

“.Ever since we [Oswald and Butch] teamed up, everything's gone to crap.” He’s not wrong...

“Except I [Oswald] do know where Strange is.” You’ve held out on this the entire time?!?

“And how exactly do we pay him [Strange]?!?” “I [Tabitha] can be very persuasive.” *sighs*

Stab him.

I think that’s a... desanctified church that he’s [Jeremiah] in

Could very well be, yeah...

Oh, he’s [Jeremiah] using an old map...

Yep.

“I [Ra’s] had a vision. Of Gotham in flames.” *sits back in seat* I’m done...

Who the hell...

“Together, we can make that happen.” Ohhhhh....

“Well, I [Jeremiah] appreciate the offer, but recent events have convinced me of the benefits of working alone.” You have a girlfriend.

Go to hell, Ra’s!

Just so you know, Jeremiah, you’re holding your gun way off. His arms are like super close to him; they should be fully extended when he holds the gun. Dude!

AN: His hair? WACK! His gear? WACK! His jewelry? WACK! His foot stance? WACK! The way that he talks? WACK! The way hat he doesn't even like to smile? WACK!

“Because, my boy, all this is not just about Gotham.” You are so full of shit, Ra’s.

‘Course it’s not...

“This is about Bruce Wayne.” Because everything in this GODDAMN SHOW IS ABOUT Bruce Wayne!

Gaaaahhhhhh...

“[Lee] Leave Gotham. Start a new life somewhere else.” A day late and a dollar short, Jim.

Wait, leave Gotham? The evacuation’s still going.

“But whatever happens after I [Jim] walk out that door, I care about you [Lee]. And I always will.” *puts hand to chest*

And the actors are married and you can teeeell!

God dang it, I hate this.

FRICKINNNNN’-

Go away, Ed!

NOOOOOOOOOOOO... go away...

Mr. Nygma, I formally invite you to eat from the bag of infinite dicks.

“Give it up for Harvey Bullock.” Yaaayyy! Yes, cheer for this man!

*both clap for Harvey*

After all the shit he’s had to put up with!

“Well, I'm [Alfred] gonna take a very long and a very hot shower.” Yes!

*leans all the way back in seat, thinking about the ending*

Are you OK?

No, I’m nooottt...

*Selina props her legs up on Bruce* Aaawww!

Oh oh oh oh...

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

*both start chanting “KISS” then cheer once Bruce kisses Selina*

Ohhhh man... they’re just ticking all the boxes for “How Do We Comfort the Audience After All the Shit They Just Saw?”

*laughs in pain knowing what happens next*

“Why do you [Bruce] think he's [Jeremiah] so obsessed with you?” Some shit!

*both laugh*

God, this was grueling!

*both yell when Jeremiah strolls in*

*both yell in horror when Jeremiah shoots Selina*

YOOOUUU- NO, NONONONO!

She’s fine though! She’s fine, because she has the um, the nine lives! [Selina] You’re good! You’re good, honey!

*Alfred beats the crap out of Jeremiah* Gooo Alfred, gooo!

BEAT. HIS. ASS!

Go Alfred go Alfred go Alfred-

Please, c’mon! C’mon!

*both sigh in frustration when the episode ends*

[Expletive]... this... episode...

9 notes · View notes

diveronarpg · 5 years

Photo

Congratulations, EMMA KATE! You’ve been accepted for the role of GERTRUDE. Admin Kaitlin: Oh my god you have no idea how long I have been hoping and praying someone would bless our dash with a Gen, Emmak, and I am so so so pleased that it is you who is finally going to bring her to us. There was a very quiet strength to the application that you wrote, making her a subtle kind of power player that I really admired. I absolutely loved that you made her CFO of Zhang & Co., giving her a position of such absolute authority that is still so quiet... wow I just loved that tiny little detail. Congrats and I can’t wait to see her on the dash!!! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Emma Kate

Age | 23

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | I’m on discord constantly and normally have a two-day response rate.

Timezone | GMT

Current/Past RP Accounts | Let me just slide this over to you in a suspicious brown envelope… nikborisov.tumblr.com

In Character

Character | Genevieve ‘Gertrude’ Zhang

What drew you to this character? |

I’ve been considering applying for Gen for a while, though I think one of the big draws to her was the fact that she is the opposite to Nick in many ways. If Nick is a seedling, reluctant to take root anywhere, then Gen would be a great oak with roots that span the length and breadth of Verona.

I also think that it’s interesting how much pride Genevieve takes in the status that her name has given her, though all of her merits are her own. From someone who had nothing, to a person who has everything at the tips of their fingers, it’s fascinating that she values her position enough to not abuse it (besides the numerous times she used the excuse of ‘work running late’ but… that’s neither here nor there).

It’s the dichotomy between her fierce independence and simultaneous reliance on men that I’d very much like to explore as well.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

Where do I start? Gen’s relationship with Henry, for one. She is well aware that she is all he has left, in terms of immediate family, though it is getting harder and harder to look him in the face when it serves as a mirror image of Howard in his younger years. It is hard to resist the pull that tells her to abandon the reminder of her husband’s death (and her chance of forgiveness), but she would not abandon her son - he does not need to lose a mother too.

However, this is also why I would like to consider the dynamic between her and Hector, and the above being a part of the reason that she is so grateful for him and what he does for her son. I’d like to see them get closer, and part of the reason that she is willing to let him into her life is because she can see a part of her old self reflected in him.

Eventually, she is going to have to find out that Cristian orchestrated her Howard’s murder. It would be the climax for several series of events; the tension between her lover and son that she has chosen to ignore, the choice to seek revenge or show mercy, and her chance at absolution even if Howard wouldn’t be there to absolve her himself.

There is a little part of me which would also like to see her unseated from her perch. Perhaps part of her past will be unearthed? Perhaps she will lose the trust of someone close to her? I’d like to shake her world like a snowglobe and see where the pieces fall.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | She’d get to see Howard again, so yes. And her canonical fate is… less than alive.

In Depth

The sound of her phone ringing permeates the silence, demanding her attention as it vibrates against the side-table, lighting up the otherwise dark room, as she wrestles against the sleep that weighs heavily on her eyelids. Genevieve unravels herself from the arms of her lover, the cold rushing to fill the space around her in his absence. It consumes her, seeping into her bones and robbing her of any warmth, once she reads the name on the display. Something was wrong. “Damiano?” The wince at how his name catches in her throat is involuntary, hating how it made her sound weak.

“I need to talk to you. It’s - well, it’s about Howard.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he,” the conclusion tumbles from her lips, coughing it out like water in her lungs afraid it would drown her from the inside out, once her dark gaze settles on the Montague Leader standing in the doorway of her home. Minute is the nod that confirms her assumption. “Murdered,” even smaller the correction - though like a bullet, the exit wound is far greater than the entry - tears clouding her vision as the older man envelopes her in a hug, swallowing hard against the lump that settled in her throat.

It is panic that cuts through the fog that swam at the edges of her mind, “Henry?” searching for the guiding light in the darkness, the thing that anchored her above all else. Tension oozes from her shoulders as Damiano assures her her son is coming, contrasting with the wetness dampening the apples of her cheeks that she only acknowledges after swiping at them with her hand. Genevieve did not shed tears from grief - for it would have been a futile attempt for that fiend to find emotion in a pool that had dried up a long time ago - it was the guilt that swelled in her chest which set hot droplets careening down her the lines of her face.

A hand closes around her arm, stopping her endeavour to enter the house as though fully aware of her intentions. Breathing out a sigh, she takes a brief moment to affix the mask of sorrow to conceal the annoyance evoked by the action. “I need to see him,” it wasn’t a request, both hands closing over one of his and squeezing lightly, hoping it would express what she was feeling. I can handle it.

–

Extras: I HC that Howard owned a freight company called Zhang & Co., with Damiano having been a co-owner he would have assumed full leadership. I imagine Gen as being the financial manager for the company, enabling her to deal with mob finances without arising suspicion and doing her job as Captain.

Genevieve keeps Howard’s old knife on her at all times, normally concealed in her boot, since it was returned by his friend after his death.

#accepted #accepted: gertrude

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brightlycoloredteacups · 6 years

Text

Resgination

@ivartheboneme

Brynhilda and the Murder Couple

Brynhilda sits on the toilet. She’d only try it once, she told herself. Despite the risks, she’d try it once, and then it would be over. She didn’t think she ever wanted anything so badly before. She refused to ignore a desire so strong. So there she sits, alone in her bathroom, waiting for the results. Leg bouncing in irritation. Why did these things have to take so long?

When the little timer on her phone goes off she jumps up and dives for the test. She pauses for a moment, closing her eyes. She doesn’t pray, she’s never prayed, but she hopes. She hopes to whatever is out there that this is the moment her wish comes true. She feels utterly foolish. She can’t say how long she stands there, eyes screwed shut, mouth forming the word ‘please’ repeatedly in the silence of her bathroom.

She cracks open an eye, looking at the test. Her shoulders immediately drop. The test is negative. “I’m not pregnant.” She says to the empty space of her bathroom. Of course, she isn’t. Having a family of her own was entirely too much to hope for.

Brynhilda drops the test into the trashcan and emerges from the bathroom. Looking about her home, she feels lonelier than ever. There’s not even a hint of warmth in her spartanly furnished home. Everything is cold and neat. Lifeless. Just like her. Just like her life.

For a moment, she thinks that maybe she should try being ‘softer’. Maybe talk in a quieter tone, say less than she already does. Maybe cover up her muscles. That might attract someone. She pushes that thought away harshly. That train of thought was nothing more than a last ditch effort not to come to terms with reality. It would attract the kind of someone she didn’t want. She sits at her windowsill, grumpy, and looks up at the stars. Even if she had the strength to completely bury the person she was, eventually, they’d ask about her scars.

She absentmindedly runs her fingers over her rough knuckles. Ylva pops up in her head, a flair of jealousy following, the image. Ylva had Ivar, a man who kissed her scars, her twisted kneecaps. Ivar and Ylva who’s depravity matched each other’s. Why couldn’t she have that? Why couldn’t someone hold her at night when Boggvir came for her in her dreams. Why couldn’t someone make her feel pretty, buy her stupid gifts and make her days a little brighter?

It’s simple, the voice inside her head says, you’re a dog. You’ll only ever be a dog, doing tricks on command. You’re good for two things, fighting and killing. Why did you ever think you could do anything else? Just because you wanted it enough? Please. She brings her knees to her chest and buries her head inside her arms. But I’m lonely, she thinks, so lonely.

She simply can’t understand it. She managed to find a friend. Two friends, if you counted Ivar on a good day. Yeah, the little voice says, two friends that-. She stops it in its track. She doesn’t want to think about this, she doesn’t want to ruin the image of Ylva in her head. She can’t, her friendship is the one thing she really has left in this world. Sure, the voice still whispers, but how long will you have it? She presses her lips together. That is a reasonable question in her mind. How long will she have it?

Ivar looks at Brynhilda with glee. There was only one time she’d ever looked so uncomfortably rigid. She’s in his office downtown, a rucksack on her back. Usually, she just plops down on a chair and puts her disgusting boots on the edge of his desk. She’s done it so much the corner is rubbed smooth. But he can’t come to care now. She’s about to ask him for a favor. From the way she was so stiff, hands behind her back, feet slightly apart, he knew it was going to be a dozy. Was it money? He hopes its money. She hates asking for loans, considering he’s the man that already writes her checks.

He’s working on his taunts when she speaks. “I’m turning in my resignation effective immediately.” His smile drops. “What?” He says. This is a joke, right? It must be a joke. “The original terms of our contract have been completed. Everyone that has tortured Ylva, their associates, all her enemies, are dead. She no longer needs protection.”

“What about me?” He asks, standing up angrily. Where the hell is all this coming from? Why is she just abandoning him like this. “If you recall,” Brynhilda says, “You told me once that you didn’t need my protection. You were fine without me before, and you’ll be fine without me in the future.”

“That was-”

“I thank you for the employment opportunity. Give Ylva my best.” She says shortly, stunning him. She turns and leaves his office before he can pull himself together enough to argue with her. “Brynhilda!” He yells, scrambling after her. By the time he gets out of his office, she’s nowhere to be found. He curses, and goes back into his office and tries to figure out what the hell had caused all this.

Had the last job he sent her on been too much? No, it had been a present for her, and she’d come back, face beaten but smiling. Had he said something? No, couldn’t be that either. Brynhilda was not one to shy away from challenging him. He wracks his brain for information, combing over the last year at least. Everything had seemed perfectly fine. More than fine when Brynhilda found out he and Ylva were expecting.

It couldn’t be the new baby. Could it? Ivar shakes his head, telling himself not to be stupid. Brynhilda had baby fever the moment she found out Ylva was pregnant. Hell, the woman had even paid for, and built, the entire nursery. She even started Ylva on a new diet plan. She was just as excited for the new Lothbrok as the rest of them were.

Ivar glares at the door. What the hell had gotten into her?

Ivar watched Ylva closely. His wife had been worrying her napkin since dinner had been set. Ivar had told her about Brynhilda’s strange behavior today. Until now, his wife hadn’t been too worried. “Ylva,” Ivar whispers, placing his hand on hers. “I don’t think Brynhilda is coming.”

“But she always comes,” Ylva argues. “I had Lars make her favorite. She always comes when he makes her favorite.” Ivar is going to try soothing her again, but doesn’t get the chance. “Did I do something wrong? Did I upset her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you haven’t.” Ylva’s sharp eyes turn to him. “Did you upset her?” Ivar presses his lips together in annoyance. “You’re always fighting with her. What if you pushed too hard this time?”

“We’ve gotten better.” Ivar points out. It’s true. His recent dynamic with Brynhilda changed when he did something stupid and she rescued him. Neither of them bring it up. Beyond their constant bickering, however, they haven’t had an honest fight in months.

Ylva continues to glare at him accusingly. “Don’t you think if I really upset her, she would’ve tried to kill me?” He pauses, thinking back on his relationship with his bodyguard. “Again?” He adds, shuddering at the knife incident. Ylva huffs and sits back. “But why didn’t she talk to me? I’m her friend. Friends tells each other stuff.” Ivar pulls his hand from hers and shifts in his seat. In the back of his mind, he’s cursing Brynhilda to kingdom come. “Sometimes,” Ivar starts, then stops, trying to find the right words. “Sometimes people need to do things on their own, figure things out for themselves. I think something may have happened recently, and maybe she just needs time to herself.” It was the only logical thing he could think of.

Ylva nods slowly, coming to terms with Brynhilda’s absence. He can still see the frown that furrows her face, but what else can he do? What can any of them do?

#ivar the boneless #vikings #ivars heathen army #ivar ragnarsson #keeping promises #ylva #brynhilda's saga #brynhilda #brynhilda and the murder couple

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hotelsweet · 7 years

Note

DARCE I FINALLY THOUGHT OF THE PROMPT I WANTED TO REQUEST FROM U!! literally,,,,,literally anything with the protective jake dynamic from maximum security,,,,i would cry so many tears,,,,i WILL cry so many tears,,,bless ur soul thank u in advance i love u dearly

on this week’s episode of Em Wants Me Dead,,,,

in all honesty I rewrote this a few times because I wanted to be completely certain I was hitting that protectiveness right but dear God this prompt came for my soul

anyway HERE

Amy shifts over in her cell bed, wishing to hell she couldrip this stupid fake baby bump off and sleep in an actual, comfortable bed. Sheneeds sleep, desperately, but all she can think about is Maura, and Figgis, andJake.

Jake.

The way he’d triedto protect her. The way he’dadmitted he couldn’t be here while she wassurrounded by these women.

It’s notthe first time she’s seen him protective, not byfar- but it’s perhaps only the secondtime she’s seen him act upon it. Thefirst time was years ago, not long into her job at the nine-nine. It’s perhaps one of her first memoriesof them as real friends, real partners. Warmth spills into her system at thethought of it.

It’sstrange, in a way, she thinks, the fondness this memory elicits- the first timeAmy knew that Jake Peralta would always have her back just so happened tocoincide with one of the saddest days of her life.

Shifting her head against a thin pillow, Amy lets her minddrift, finding the moment and replaying it, in every little detail, letting itlull her to sleep.

***

“Y’okay?”

It’s thisvoice, amongst a sea of others, that catches Amy’sattention. Her eyes rise from her computer screen, and it’s like she comes back to life,snapping out of a daydream; suddenly, she’sstarkly aware of how dry her eyes feel, from staring absently at her screen,and of the concerned expression with which Jake examines her.

“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat, “yeah. I’m fine.”

“Sure? Y’know, it’s almost the end of the day anyway, I don’t mind taking you home if you’re not feelin’ it.” Jake saysit simply, like it’s nothing, but she knows it’s a favour, a pity-offer.

“That’s nice,” shereplies genuinely, “but I’m really okay. Just tired.”

“Sure. Hey, I think there’s some takeout in the break room, ifyou’re hungry.”

“Oh, okay,” she says quietly, smiling gratefullyover at him.

She clears her throat again, attempting to expel thattightness in her chest, and stands up, deciding a snack and some cold water tothe face will wake her up a little-she’s still got work to do, and she’s not packing up any time soon.

As she moves, she subconsciously feels herself avoidingeyes. The whole squad’s beenwatching her, and she knows it. Just this morning, her grandfather passed away-and she would have been able to keep it secret, were it not for the fact thatGina had answered the phone this morning, apparently expecting one of Amy’s “nerdfriends” and instead being greetedwith her tearful mother.

It’s notlike she minds things like this interfering with her work day- in fact, she’s more distracted by the devastationaching through her mind and her body, like a numbness just waiting to build up intotears. It’s just the fact that everyoneknows, and everyone’s treading on eggshells around her.She’s barely worked here a year, justabout falling into a rhythm with everyone, and now, just because she’s not quite close enough with anyoneyet, it’s fallen into awkwardness.Even Jake, the biggest pain in her ass since she picked up this job, is beingunbearably kind.

Quickly, she heads for the break room, sighing to herself inrelief at the slight stretch in her legs from standing up and moving around, apleasant contrast to what must have been at leastfifteen minutes sat in silence.

Once she’s inthe breakroom, she finds herself exhaling deeply, finally out of sight fromeveryone else. On the table are a few boxes; some tacos, some chips, somefries- it’s bland, but it’ll do, she thinks, picking at itmindlessly.

It’ssoothing, filling her up quickly.

Right up until, that is, a piercing shout comes from thebullpen.

“HEY!”

It’s Rosa’s voice, but it’s too loud, too much of a warning.

Before she really knows what she’s doing, Amy’s feetare carrying her into the bullpen. It’s aperp, and he’s running- straight towardsher. Rosa’s on the ground next to herdesk, grabbing her shin and breathing hard through gritted teeth. She’s been hurt.

“Amy!” Rosa yells, and at once, Amy snaps back to life. With notime to grab her gun, she’sthrowing herself towards the burly man headed towards her, aiming to debilitatehim with perfect procedure- but he’s twosteps ahead of her, latching onto her wrist and spinning her round so she’s in front of him, held tightly infront of him with her arm behind his back.

“Let me walk and I won’t grab her gun,” he says casually, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.Come to think of it, Amy realises, he probably has. Her mind buzzes, her heartpounding in her chest, immediately thinking about what to do next. Knock himout? Make a move? Stay still?

The entire room is at a complete standstill- Rosa, Charles,and Terry all have their guns pointed at him, which only makes Amy feel sick;while those guns are pointed at him, they’repointed at her, too.

Her eyes scam the bullpen for Jake, but he’s out of his desk, nowhere to be seen.Great. Probably gone for a pee, entirely clueless.

She tightens a little, trying to pull away, but he onlygrabs her tighter, causing her to grimace a little. What a day- losing a familymember, experiencing her most awkward, sad, and slow day at work yet, and beingused as a meat-shield by a runaway perp.

“You’ve got five,” hesays calmly- his voice reverberates against Amy’s back,almost making her shiver. “Four,three, two- unf”

He’s cutoff as he drops to the floor.

Amy spins round to see Jake, holding the guy’s hand behind his back, keeping himagainst the floor with his foot. The whole room seems to breathe a sigh ofrelief; Rosa, though she clearly shouldn’t bewalking, heads straight towards them, and soon enough Terry’s moving over too. Jake, however,remains entirely focused on Amy, his expression still, and tense, and worried,entirely fixated among the chaos of the room.

Terry’smuttering something to the perp about CCTV, and the charges he’s just added for himself byassaulting a cop. Rosa’shissing curses under her breath. Charles is explaining the entire situation toMcGinley, who apparently missed the whole thing.

To Amy, it’s allan even thicker blur, stood watching it all happen, and directly in the middleof it all is Jake, his voice repeating over and over again at her.

“Amy.” His voice is quiet, but he’s allshe really hears.

“I’m fine, thank you for… for…” she says dismissively, moving awayfrom the centre of the bullpen, her head pounding. Air. She needs air.

Faster than she anticipated, she’s outside, sinking against the wall to her knees. Thelate-Autumn Brooklyn evening whispers a brief shiver down her spine, and herarm aches gently from where

His voice catches up with her, but she’s already lost herself, anxietythrumming painfully in her mind, pushing her until she’s curling up, her head dropping into her hands.

“Amy.” He’sbeside her, crouched down, his hand on her arm. “Did hehurt you?”

“I don’t-”

“Did he hurt you?” Jake’s voiceis firm, far more protective than she’s everheard him before. It has her a little taken aback, just for a moment. She feelsherself starting to focus again, the fear slipping away, and she looks up athim. His face is almost angry, brow furrowed, to the point where it almostworries her. She’s never seen him like this.

“No, I’m fine.”

“I could’ve punched him,” Jake mutters resentfully, rollinghis eyes. “I can’t believe it was you… andwith the day you’ve had, too”

“Has that happened before?”

“Yeah. Although, in my fouryears on the force, I’ve onlyseen two other runners.”

“Idiots,” she says quietly, pressing the backof her wrist against her eye. “Y’know, I could have dealt with that bymyself. I was about to go for his stomach with my elbow.” She knows she’s beingstubborn, but she’d rather die than look weak.

“Yeah, I know, are youkidding?” Jake says, smiling in thatway he always does towards her defensiveness. Any other day, she’d find it annoying. Right now, thenormality of it is so perfect it almost makes her cry. “I acted on instinct. Something about seeing you like thatmade me move, without thinking. Eh, I don’t know.”

“Probably a pretty stupidmove,” Amy grins, and he laughs alittle.

“Next time I’ll let you fight your corner.”

“Thanks.”

Jake laughs.

“No,” she interjects, “I meanthank you for helping me.”

“Don’t be stupid, anyone would have done it for their partner,for their friend.”

She smiles over at him for a moment. They don’t move, the noise of Brooklyn trafficfilling the silence between them.

“I think I need to go home,” she says quietly.

“Let me take you.”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“Amy,” he looks at her simply, “I’m not letting you go home alone. You’ve lost someone important and justbeen attacked.”

“I wasn’t attacked,” she mutters. Jake doesn’t reply, just looking at her,eyebrows raised. “Okay, fine,” she gives in. “I need to get my stuff.” She stands up and brushes herselfdown, inwardly praying she’s notsat in anything gross.

“Nope, I’m being a good friend now, this is it,this is my duty-” he jumps in, and before shecan object he’s running back into theprecinct.

Within minutes, he’s backby her side, leading her to his car, chatting about some candy store downtownthat sells the exact brand of Mexican gummy bears he likes, and it’s dark outside, and cold, and all sheneeds to do is sit in his passenger seat and listen.

And when she starts to cry, silently, letting this awful dayescape her, and he apologises, she knows it’s notfor his stories about candy. It’s forthis absolute bitch of a world.

In the darkness, she finds herself leaning across her seatinto his arms, and crying, for lord only knows how long, in a feat that neitherof them will mention for months.

He’s warm,and still, and accepting. Calm. Ready to be there for her, just as he’d been in the bullpen.

And though it’s along while before she’lladmit it, it’s the safest she’s ever felt.

Safest she’ll everfeel.

#my babes #get u a friend/lover like this #thank u for the prompt em I loved it <3 #my writing #jake x amy #b99 fic #asks #prompts #elsaclack

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