#evergreen intrusion

[makethatelevenrings]

First Christmas // D. Grayson x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: mention of canon-typical injuries, blood, assassins, kidnapping

Summary: You were stolen from your life years ago and forced to be an assassin. Eleven months ago, Nightwing pulled you out of your own personal hell. Now, you get to celebrate your first Christmas with him.

“Okay, what the fuck?” you voiced aloud as a ceramic pickle was shoved into your hand. Stephanie giggled hysterically while Alfred shot you a look of reproach and you mouthed an apology in his direction before fixing your attention on your boyfriend’s grinning face.

“It’s the Christmas pickle,” he explained. “You hide it somewhere in the tree and whoever finds it first on Christmas morning gets to drive the Batmobile.”

“I did not agree to that,” Bruce called from somewhere behind the massive tree in the corner of the living room. Sparkly tinsel hung from its branches and ornaments of various shapes and sizes clung tightly to the evergreen boughs. Soft music played in the distance, something about Santa bringing a woman a ring. The various Wayne kids were scattered around the room doing different tasks in preparation for the holidays.

You were out of your depth.

“Okay…and I’m supposed to hide it?”

“Yeah, we’ve all gotten a turn, so it’s your year to do it!” Steph chirped. Other than Dick and Damian, the cheerfully sarcastic blonde had become your closest friend once Nightwing got you out of the clutches of…

You weren’t thinking about that now.

Examining the tree, you hesitantly approached and glanced back at Dick. Spinning your finger in a circle, you motioned for him to turn around and he complied with a soft laugh. The dark green needles brushed against your skin as you reached into the tree and slipped the string attached to the ornament around one of the innermost branches. Bruce noticed where you put it from his side of the tree and he swiped a finger across his lips in promise of secrecy.

“Alright,” you said once you pulled away from the tree. “What’s next?”

Steph handed you another ornament and you paused, studying the picture hung inside the golden filigree facade. Bright blue eyes peered up at you from the worn paper held inside the frame and you knew without a doubt that this was Dick, probably around age ten.

“Really, Bruce? You still have this one?” Dick groaned as he peered over your shoulder. You didn’t flinch away at his sudden intrusion, having had time to get used to his antics. Instead you settled back against his firm chest and savored the feeling of his steady, strong form behind you.

Eleven months ago, you had been dispatched to eliminate a threat in Bludhaven. A vigilante by the name Nightwing was stirring up trouble for people close to your handlers. It was supposed to be a simple mission. In, eliminate, out, and let the world handle the clean up as you slunk back to your cell and awaited your next assignment.

But Nightwing was different from the targets you had dealt with in the past. Those were distant kills. Sniper shots and poison and explosives were all your former methods. He evaded every single one of your attacks. Forced to stay in Bludhaven for an extended period of time, you encountered a persistent neighbor by the name of Dick Grayson.

Your handlers increased pressure on you. It had never taken you this long to eliminate a threat and they were getting antsy. The longer you stayed in the world, away from the cold walls of the compound you had been taken to when snatched from your childhood bed and trained to kill, the weaker their control over you persisted.

And then you took a shot to the stomach meant for Nightwing. You told yourself it was an accident as you dragged yourself away and to your apartment, blood spilling across your hand as you attempted to keep pressure on the wound. Nightwing found you, somehow, and took care of you. When you woke up hours later, Dick Grayson sat next to your bed, his mask off but suit still on. You looked at him with tears in your eyes and whispered one phrase that would change your life forever.

“Please help me.”

Eleven months ago, Dick Grayson and his family helped shutter the assassin ring you had been forced to grow up in. Many of the other agents were given resources for rehabilitation and Bruce kept a close eye on them, but they were all doing well now that they were deprogrammed.

But you didn’t know where to go. There was nothing left in this world for you. Dick saw the conflicting emotions run across your face, reading you better than anyone could, and offered you a chance to stay.

Eleven months ago, Dick Grayson saved your life. Six months ago, Dick Grayson kissed you in the middle of his tiny kitchen as he showed you how to cook lasagna and ever since then, you felt safe by his side.

Now it was Christmas. Your first real Christmas you could remember. All of the other prior holidays had been staged for photos before you were sent back to your cage to wait for further instructions or for training. You never got to experience what everyone claimed was one of the happiest times of year.

Here you were, in Wayne Manor of all places, pressed against the man you had been sent to kill almost a year ago. The photo of young Dick stared up at you and for some odd reason, grief pressed against your throat.

Strong but gentle fingers slid the ornament from your grasp and Dick hung it wordlessly on a branch. He took your hand in his and called out that you two were going to grab some more cookies from the kitchen before he tugged you out of the brightly lit and loud room.

“Hey,” Dick whispered once you two were alone in the privacy of the kitchen. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” you whispered. “It’s nothing you can fix, okay?”

His lips pulled down in a frown. He hated not being able to soothe your aches and take away the dark thoughts that crowded your brain. Dick was a fixer, always had been. The oldest, the first Robin, the leader of the Teen Titans, and for a short time, Batman. He always had a solution to a problem, but even he couldn’t magically change the past.

You pulled away from his touch and turned to grab another platter of cookies. You were sure all the Batlings knew why you two left, but you didn’t want to come back empty handed. Dick watched you go with a resigned expression before following shortly after.

The next day, you woke up in Dick’s old bedroom to the sight of Damian peering down at you, Alfred the cat resting in his arms. The young boy merely deposited Alfred on your chest and left the room, leaving you bewildered but wholly accepting of the cat. Alfred had taken a liking to you when you first came to the manor and Damian begrudgingly accepted the fact that he had to share his cat’s love with you.

The bed was empty next to you so you figured Dick got up early to train with Jason or Cass, despite the fact that he had crawled into bed sometime around two after patrol. After cuddling with Alfred for a bit, you got out of bed and got ready for the day. Armed with a cat who purred contentedly in your arms, you made your way downstairs to find the dining room in chaos.

Which, granted, it was always chaos during mealtimes.

Bruce nodded at you, his mug of pure black coffee gripped tightly in his hands. Damian and Tim appeared to be drawing battle plans out of egg yolks and hot sauce on their plates as Duke nodded along. Cass sent you a wave and you raised Alfred’s paw in greeting, earning you a bright grin from your fellow child assassin.

Taking a seat next to Dick, who was in a heated argument about soccer teams with Jason, you found a beaming Stephanie Brown next to you. She loaded two waffles and some eggs on your plate without even asking.

“Thanks,” you said. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well, we’re not done decorating the tree yet, so we’ll finish that today, and then we need to do some shopping for the local secret santa. Bruce takes enough angels for three trees so we split up into teams to get all the gifts.”

You recalled the absolutely packed tree from last night. It looked like it was going to fall over from the weight of the ornaments strung on its branches. How the fuck could it hold more?

A small box landed next to your plate and you raised an eyebrow at Dick but he was focused entirely on his bacon. You gingerly pulled the top off of the box and gasped.

Baby’s First Christmas, the ornament read. A stork carried a small picture frame in a blanket and in the frame was a photo of you that Dick had taken a few weeks ago. Flour streaked across your cheeks and all over your arms, thanks to your decision to assist Alfred in the kitchen once. A bright grin was on your face, mirroring the one currently tugging at your lips.

You would never get back the years that were stolen from you, but that didn’t matter. You had here and now. You had a family.

Dick’s lips pressed against your temple as you leaned into his side. No matter what, you had him.

Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @havingarebelliousstage​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind @bunny-kawa​ @khaylin27​

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fluff #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing fluff

[ludi-cerealia]

Love! That red disease—Your spell and who’s caught it.

Welcome to my very first pick a card reading !

Breathe deeply, and choose the image that you feel most drawn to find out how you bewitch others and who thus lays spellbound. Remember to only take what resonates with you, and if you don’t feel particularly drawn to this reading, there may not be a message for you. Piles are Left to Right: Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3. Enjoy! :)

Decks used: Goddess Power Oracle, Language of Flowers Oracle, Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Deck, Black Moon Astrology Cards, Milo Manara Tarot, Claude Monet Impressionism Art Tarot, Light Visions Tarot, Children of Litha Tarot

Pile 1 — Sanctum

Your spell is one of banishing — of self-imposed sanctuary within which much arcane and occult is withheld; though the hermit was not present in your spread, your energy presents as opaque, detached, independent, and deeply complex. Look, don't touch, look into the abyss and find an abyss looking back. There is more to you than meets the eye and ear yet there is so little to read, yet others are lain bare before you; dismissed only as an act of mercy. You are not to be prevailed, and much of your allure draws from your mysterious character upon which one can only make conjecture and not much else. Almost determined to be elusive and yet effortlessly so, your nature appears bent on evading capture of anyone's unsolicited curiosity. Spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally it appears you are entirely detached; thus others come seeking yet shy away at moment's scrutiny. It may be that your magic is innate and outpouring, such that you may possess spiritual gifts that are distinctly shrewd to any means of unwanted prying; you may even preemptively ward your energy from evil eye. Thus others find you sacred and untouchable, perhaps even virginal for a few of you; their worship is one of distanced awe.

Thank you so much for letting me read your energy Pile 1! I saw an image of someone being startled or alarmed then looking around the room while I was tapping into your energy (which was rather difficult), so pardon for the intrusion if you sensed it!

(Cards: Sagittarius ~ I see, Leo ~ I will , Void of Course Moon~ Missing, Crow, Lilith ~ Independence, Connection ~ Forget Me Not, Detachment~ Sacred Lotus, Emperor, High Priestess rx, Five of Swords rx)

(Channeled song: Maze// Alina Baraz )

— Forgotten

As to who is caught in your spell, you may well already know; I heard that many have fallen at your feet but one is particularly scorned. This is someone waiting in the wings for you, Pile 1, someone perhaps you know through work or social circles that feels their attempts at getting your attention bear no fruit. It may be that they are younger or more inexperienced than you are, but it feels more so that they stumble and stutter whenever they're around you, utterly disarmed. However, despite them feeling unacknowledged or unseen, they are aware it is no one else's fault but their own for not approaching you formally or directly. I heard this may be a matter of workplace crush or admiration, more so a matter of seeking validation from your approval than anything deeply emotional. They believe that in due time that you will come to see them as someone worthwhile (I even heard opponent, so perhaps a rival of yours?), but I don't think they'll get what they want from you. I heard no one can.

(Cards: Page of Pentacles rx, Eight of Pentacles rx, Six of Wands rx, Seven of Pentacles)

Pile 2 — Alpha

Your spell is one that brings the earth to heel, but not by conquest; by the reins life is tamed in the palm of your keen hunter's hand. You bring wonder to the mundane as life's steady maker: grounded, practical, and resilient; your wisdom for living appears to know no bounds, and your patience endures evergreen never worse for wear. Your touch is a warm green, like spring, though one may think you jaded, your soul is found tender in your lukewarm gaze. To others you are a guiding star, a hunter's moon, the third man whose sound reason is sought in the thick of howling alps. In you others find a home away from home, a shelter stern yet welcoming. Others may wonder if you have an affinity for nature, that flora and fauna trail in your wake like wood nymphs of eld. They also wonder if you have a safe haven to call your own, that as you strive tirelessly in service of others, do you ever lay your weary head to rest? Does your caution know end? They wonder if there is an unseen danger known only to you, that belying stoic pride is a tired ghost that demands its due. Strong earth placements pertaining the benefics, particularly Virgo/ 6th house.

(Cards: Capricorn~ I use, Earth~ Stability, Fourth House~ Roots, Deer, Artemis~ Focus, Enthusiasm~ Delphinium , Honour~ Chinese Peony, Hierophant, Nine of Cups, The Star rx, Four of Swords (Seven of Swords))

(Channeled songs: Safe and Sound // Taylor Swift; Running With the Wolves // Aurora) 

—Lost Love

 This is someone who looks back fondly on the memories and journeys you share, halcyon days bygone. They miss you deeply, Pile 2, this is someone whose emotions for you run deeply, who at one point envisioned a perfect picket fence life with you. I heard "with you to the end of days" and "the one that got away", and I can't help but feel like the feeling is mutual. With the two of cups and eight of cups respectively, they wonder constantly about what could've been had they chosen differently. Would they have it all with you? What is everything without you? They see that you are well, it feels bittersweet but they tell themselves its better to believe it sincere than a facade. I heard knowing wouldn't make a difference, love is all they can offer but no more of what you deserve. They would not allow themselves even the fantasy of you, Pile 2, it hurts them to dream; and it hurts even more to fight for you. 

(Cards: Two of Cups, Eight of Cups, Seven of Cups rx, Five of Wands rx)

Pile 3 — Maverick

You make a tightrope walk seem like a cakewalk, Pile 3, you move with impeccable and eerie grace in life; as if method and madness found in you one merry union divinely orchestrated. Your magic is one of confusion, Pile 3, you leave others dumbstruck at every turn, as the can never quite know what to make of you. I heard that you're made of stardust, star stuff! You come into others awareness like a puzzle that abides by no reason, and thus begins their unexpected descent into obsession for closure and control; as if to capture you in mind is to capture you in your entirety. You take space with your grand presence Pile 3, and others seem aware immediately that within you is a deeper knowing; and even discern that within you too is a yearning for belonging, for community, that is beyond what they can provide. You have lived many lives and each skin you unburden with grace and dignity; there is no end to your power of metamorphosis. People are in awe that despite yourself in all your grand quirks and peculiarities, you are a social chameleon that finds welcome wherever you go, and yet remain a mystery unsolved all the same. However, as the saying goes, often nails that stick out get hammered down— People wonder if your past is a cross you bear :that your careful camouflage is not superfluous, but rather necessary.  The world is harsh but you have not grown harsher, rather softer; and that too is a wonder to be admired, that your curiosity survives experience.

(Cards: Mars ~ Action, Libra ~I balance, Uranus ~ Genius, Iris~ Communication, Black Egg, Balance ~ Camelia, Rebirth~ Secret Blue Lily, Temperance, Ten of Swords, Queen of Cups, King of Pentacles )

(Channeled song: crazy=genius// panic! at the disco, fallen alien// fka twigs)

As to who is under your spell, though the ten of cups was present in the spread; I was not getting anything romantic, but rather wistful. People from your past are seeing you shine Pile 3, and they wish you all the best despite having parted ways, they see that your journey has much further to go still, and they hope that your paths will join once more. If you think people from your past have forgotten or are not watching, they certainly are, Pile 3! Sorry that there wasn't much I could glean from the spread, Pile 3! 

(Cards: Five of Swords rx,  Ten of Cups, Six of Pentacles, Page of Swords)

I hope you enjoyed this PAC! I’d really love to hear how it resonates for you. Any and all feedback is welcome. If you liked my work, do consider tipping me .

#pick a card #pick a pile #pac #free tarot #intuitive reading #tarotblr #cerescore

[stupidsexymecha]

IPS-N Kidd

A sidegraded cousin of IPS-N’s Lancaster support frame, the Kidd was produced under a joint development contract by IPS-N’s Titan–Enceladus Field Project and Northstar Branch Robotics. The original pattern for the frame was bought off a mining commune that had rigged their support drones in a slapdash but ingenious neural mesh that both hardened them against tech intrusion and increased their operational efficiency many times over. Urban legend was that the original builder of the rig had used his drone team to bury caches of black-market Volador tech in several wandering asteroids, and out of extreme paranoia made his systems almost impossible to crack. To this day Northstar Branch Robotics tries valiantly to squash down persistent rumors that clues to the location of the caches are hidden in the Kidd’s code base. Designed to provide an aggressive, all-theater support solution to rugged field teams in hostile environments, the Kidd mounts a trio of powerful systems to ensure a broad operational envelope. The Jolly Roger semiautonomous personal orbital platform, bundled with every genuine-license Kidd platform establishes theater control in any open or near-surface environment. A squadron of bundled subalterns (along with an onboard maintenance suite) guarantees friendly support in any environment and provides a broad suite of tactical possibility. Finally, Titan–Enceladus’s SMOKESTACK heat sink pylon represents the cutting edge of IPS-N’s thermodynamic axiomatics, allowing users to offset surplus heat via the creation of a pinhole-window into an omega state of absolute zero. The Kidd is a popular chassis in Evergreen where it is employed as a subaltern command platform for civilian and engineering purposes. Its familiar bulk can also regularly be seen accompanying traders on their way to do business with the Gray Towns.

#lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancer smash or pass #mecha #tumblr polls

[p1nkcanoe]

dreamy bruises

[ mountain x secondo smut ]

summary: secondo calls upon his most massive ghoul for a favor. warnings: anal sex, rough sex, oral sex, facials words: 2014

!! for @copiasjuicebox since we've talked so much about secondo's gorgeous ass

Click here to read on Ao3 or read below:

“My ghoul,” Secondo sighs, almost bored in tone and inflection. He cranes his neck back where it's pressed against his mattress to catch the eyes of the massive earth ghoul who’s pushing the head of his dick agonizingly slow into his hole. “Get on with it, won’t you? I have paperwork in my office more interesting than this.” 

Secondo’s room is warm both in atmosphere and in temperature, lit by the grand stone hearth that crackles and burns bright, and Mountain is already covered in a thin layer of sweat. He’s nervous, has been since the tiny sibling knocked on the door to the den and requested that Mountain meet his Papa in his bedroom. “ASAP,” she’d said before turning on her heels and escaping back into the abbey. He’d thought he’d been in trouble, perhaps finally getting punishment for the marble bust he’d accidentally walked into months ago. What he didn’t expect was to find his Papa strewn out on his bed clad only in an evergreen colored robe and a glass of red wine in his hand, beckoning him inside and asking him to lock the door behind him. “I have a special request…” he’d said in that gorgeous, husky voice. Everything after that had been a blur. 

Mountain pushes in. It’s still slow, despite the obscene amount of lube that he’d slicked up his dick with, but Secondo seems to be pleased with it. He groans, grits his teeth as the ghoul slides in, drinking up the sting of delicious pain as he stretches around the biggest cock he’s ever taken in his life. His fists tangle expensive silk sheets between his fingers. Every muscle in his body is rigid and Mountain keeps petting at his sides, reminding him gently to relax, until finally his hips meet the back of his thighs and push into those round, hairless cheeks. He ghosts the tips of his claws over the small of his Papa’s back, listening and focusing on the sound of his breathing, the pound of his heartbeat, and waiting for him to open up completely so as to not cause him any real pain–or worse–bear him an injury. 

“Well?” Secondo looks back at him again. This time, it’s irritation etched onto his features. “Am I going to have to hold your hand through this or are you going to fuck your Papa?” 

Mountain stutters, repositions his hands on Secondo’s hips and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Papa. I wasn’t sure if you wanted time to adjust or–”

“I appreciate your hesitance, but if I wanted to feel mediocre cock I would've called for Water.”

Mountain frowns. Secondo is still so tight around him, still pulsing and spasming around such a large intrusion, and he desperately wants to give him at least a minute more to get used to it. Even Earth, the biggest size queen he knows, takes a moment to breathe before they really get started. But he also doesn’t want to get chirped at again, doesn’t want to make his Papa crane that pretty neck of his, so against his own wishes he pulls out until his head catches on his rim and pushes back in with a snap of solid hips. It forces a punched, ugly noise from Secondo’s throat and Mountain almost stops to ask him if he’s okay, but then he - “Again. Harder, faster.” And Mountain straightens back up on his knees and does as he’s told. 

The next few sounds are equally as ugly, equally as guttural, but Mountain doesn’t stop. He digs his fingers into Secondo’s hips, grips onto hard muscle and bone, and pulls back into every rough punch of his hips. It doesn’t take long before the man under him adjusts to the abuse, his lips pursing closed to show his pleasure through pretty hums rather than harsh vocalizations. He gives him a particularly hard thrust that jerks his body forward, sliding over slippery satin, and still, he offers him a pretty moan in return, pleased despite how his knuckles are as white as the sheets folded around him. 

His Papa is pretty like this, on his knees with his chest pushed into his own mattress. He’s not as beefy as Omega is, but just as tall, maybe taller. His body, thick with muscle and fat, is divine and the ghoul can’t help himself from touching. He runs his hands over the broad plane of his back, feels his skin and kneads it with the heel of his palms. His thighs are perfect, too. Just the perfect combination of muscle hidden beneath a solid layer of fat dimpled with cellulite and imperfection. His Papa is human. It’s a reminder of his mortality, his fragility… He loves it. 

Mountain could stay like this for a while, fucking into his Papa’s hole and exploring the shape and the foreign feel of his body, but in truth he’s getting bored. His thighs are stiff, uncomfortable from kneeling for so long, and his ass is beginning to cramp, so the ghoul pulls out almost completely and adjusts himself to plant his right foot flat against the mattress. He pushes back in and Secondo mewls at the slight change in angle. He’s more free to move this way. He has better control of his hips. The new position makes anything he’s given him before seem amateur. 

Large hands splay themselves back against his hips, using the leverage to pull him back onto his cock when he pistons forward. And Secondo seems to enjoy it. He squirms against the sheets, stretching his thick arms out in front of him to grab on to the edge of the mattress for some sort of hold that he won’t grasp. Mountain fucks him hard, rough, and can’t help but still feel a little uneasy about the punched and pained noises that fall from his lips. But he’d asked for it, told him hard and fast, so Mountain gives it to him. 

“More, my ghoul,” he forces out between thrusts, his voice strained and hissing through his teeth. 

“Papa, forgive me, but I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Hurt me. Make me sore. Bite me, scratch me, I don’t care–fuck your Papa like you mean it.” 

He does mean it. He’s really trying to give his Papa what he needs, but somehow he still manages to fall short. Mountain sighs, catches his breath before pulling out completely and using Secondo’s hips as a support, he gets up on both feet and crouches into an awkward squat. “My ghoul, what’re you–oh–!” Mountain lines his dick up with his hole and plants the other hand on his waist. He drops his hips and bends his knees and oh, it’s good. 

The new position and angle means that Mountain isn’t only fucking him, isn’t just thrusting his hips forward until they meet that pretty, round ass, but it mean’s that he’s dropping most of his weight into his hips and really drilling him. It’s rough, powerful, and every drop makes his Papa nearly scream in pleasure. He fucks him real good, puts everything he’s got into pounding his ass, and he’s grunting, growling deep in his chest while his muscles ache and burn in exertion. 

“Finally. I knew you were more than just a big dick. Finally, a gifted ghoul who can actually use the thing.” 

Secondo lets out a breathy little laugh after that like he can’t believe it and Mountain doesn’t know quite what to say. How many ghouls have been in his place? How many have been granted this privilege? He doesn’t know, isn’t sure if he wants to know, so he doesn’t respond. Instead, settling for leaning further forward and over his Papa, planting his hands on his sides near his fragile ribs and pressing more of his weight into him there. Mountain is a massive ghoul. Bearing most of his weight into the much smaller man and still expecting him to hold himself up is almost a loss. Secondo shakes. His thighs wobble, threaten to give out, and his back arches into a position that is clearly unfamiliar and harsh for him. The weight makes it difficult for him to breathe and suck in a proper breath but Mountain couldn’t care less. He’s too far gone himself, driven by his own need to cum and also maybe get some healing quintessence magic in him later to deal with the ache. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Secondo wheezes, punctuated by moans. “Keep going, keep doing that.” 

Mountain fucks his Papa so hard that his bed shakes against it’s wooden supports and the headboard slams against the wall. The noises that come from him are growls, feral and ghoulish in nature, and he digs into the sheets, chasing his own end. 

Beneath him, he watches as Secondo snakes an arm underneath his body to stroke his cock. He watches, enraptured by the movement of his arm as it glides over his dick, and licks at his fangs when Secondo curses at the stimulation, speeding up faster and faster and faster until his legs shake impossibly more and he cums with a shout over his hand and his expensive, silk sheets. 

“Papa, where do you want me to–”

He cuts him off before he can finish. 

“Pull out.” 

Mountain really doesn’t want to pull out. What he really wants is to keep pounding into his Papa’s ass until his balls squeeze up tight and he floods that pretty hole. But he’s not in charge here. Not in this room. So he forces himself up using the old man’s hips again and clambers down to his knees again. The ability to rest his aching muscles is almost enough to send him over the edge as is. 

“Help me up, won’t you? Then I need you in that armchair,” he motions to a crushed velvet armchair next to the fire. “I’m going to finish you off.” 

Mountain shuffles back until he’s able to stand on the wooden floor and he offers out his hand to Secondo, who takes it and uses it to shakily rise from the bed and onto the floor. He motions to the chair again and Mountain gets the hint, guiding his Papa to the spot and sitting. Secondo sinks to his knees before him. 

The first contact of his tongue against the tip of his flushed dick is like lightning. His mouth is hot, not as hot as Alpha’s or even Air’s, but warm and wet and good and he throbs when he wraps a hand around it. He tries to sink his mouth onto his shaft, to take him down, but it’s apparent that that won’t be happening. His lips go taut only two inches down before Mountain’s girth stretches him too far. It’s nothing the ghoul isn’t used to. Secondo rises back up towards the tip, sucks at it and uses his tongue to lick up his pre that wells in his mouth. He’s not the best at giving head, but it’s enough. 

Mountain groans when Secondo bobs his head over the small section of his length, using his hands for the rest of it, and it doesn’t take him long to reach his end. He feels it in his stomach, then feels it in his balls as they tighten up and he’s too slow to ask where his Papa wants it before he’s cumming hot and thick over his mouth, nose, and cheek. Mortification sets in quickly once the high fades away. 

“Papa–I didn’t mean to–” 

Secondo raises a hand up to shush him. “It’s good, my ghoul. But please, grab your Papa a washcloth and start the bath…” 

Mountain gawks, frozen in place, as he watches him drag a finger through the mess on his cheek and suck it into his mouth until it's clean. The glimmer of it, shiny with spit, is enough to snap him out of it and he jumps up, rushing to the bathroom to waste no more time. If he wants this again, he needs to make this the best bath of his life.

#title from sylvan esso's dreamy bruises #secondo #mountain x secondo #ghost smut #the band ghost smut #secondo smut

[masterqwertster]

🏴‍☠️ and/or 🫂 for the au tidbits

Evergreen AU Prompt

🏴‍☠️ Orym keeps a sharp eye on Liliana. Mother of his captain she may be, but he doesn't trust her.

It's not that she hired them for a smuggling job. Mostly. Orym's learned in his time on The Hellion that some things need to be smuggled for the good of others. He's also pretty sure Liliana's cargo is not that kind of job. Not with the imperious way she treats anyone not Imogen (and even Imogen is talked down to, though in the manner of a child rather than an inferior person not worth the time). The good kind of smuggling tends to come from worn-down but well-meaning and kindly folk.

No, the main reason Orym doesn't trust her is the way Liliana is trying to force herself into the role of a mother to Imogen without acknowledging her nearly lifelong absence in Imogen's life, or even seeming to notice that Imogen is her own grown woman, not a helpless child.

So when Orym notices Liliana's brow furrow in that same way Imogen's does when she's actively listening to thoughts, as the interloper stands on the deck over the Green Cabin, he heads on over to put an end to that mess in the making.

"She won't appreciate that," Orym says as he draws close, placing himself between her and Dorian at the helm, and crossing his arms over his chest.

"She ain't gonna find out, now, is she?" Liliana retorts with a threatening look in her eye.

Orym can't help but think it's the kind of look befitting of a cutthroat. Dangerous, if you aren't a dangerous fighter yourself. It's not nearly so terrifying, so cowing, as a sharp look from one of his mothers. More proof, really, that Liliana may have birthed Imogen, but she's not much of an actual mother.

"Maybe Imogen isn't as good at this telepath-psychic stuff as you, but I'm pretty sure she can tell when someone's poking at her brain all on her own," Orym evenly replies.

He doesn't mention that Imogen also wears an enchanted circlet under her captain's hat that prevents mental intrusion, so what Liliana's trying won't work anyways. Nor does he mention that the other mind Liliana will find in the cabin could potentially eat her alive. The galaxy depths of Ashton's mind have already nearly taken Imogen and FCG and Prism, and Ashton likes them.

"I'm just tryin' to get to know my daughter," Liliana wheedles.

"Then talk to her," like a normal person, he doesn't say.

And maybe that's just a Thing with psychic telepaths: they'd much rather take unfiltered information straight out of your head than attempt to articulate anything in words or let you consider your answer. Because honestly? Imogen pulls this shit too. If people don't answer her questions, if they're not fast enough to reply, if she feels their answer is lacking details, she dives right in to search for what she wants to know.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but she won't talk to me," Liliana scathingly says.

Right. Because the other problem is that–

"You don't listen to what she's saying. So is it really any surprise she doesn't want to talk to you when you just ignore what she tells you anyways?" Orym pointedly replies.

He watches the woman flinch back, thinks he feels the flutter of another mind brushing his own.

"I do listen," she insists. "Imogen just don't listen to me."

Orym huffs a sigh. Stubborn as her daughter, this one. It's going to take someone better at people than him to straighten this mess out.

🫂 "I can't believe you were living with an earth genasi," Cyrus says as they sit tucked away on Eshteross's airship.

"It's not like I ended up there on purpose," Dorian defends himself. "Ashton helped me out of a tight spot early on, took me in."

"And you didn't leave," Cyrus points out the obvious, brows furrowed.

"Well, I..."

Dorian trails off. It's difficult to describe the deeply buried elemental instincts that sticking around Ashton stirs. Yes, there's that disconnect of Earth and Air that makes his previous living situation so unbelievable to his brother. But there was also a sense of safety in the immensity of the power sleeping in Ashton's veins. Great wings to shelter under from the storm outside, if he's being poetic. A sense of belonging when Ashton checked-in with Dorian, asked him to help them.

"Well, what?" Cyrus impatiently asks as Dorian's silence stretches.

"Well, I– You know how we were taught as kids to sense the strength of another's elemental bloodline?" Dorian asks, completely changing tracks.

"...Yeah?" Cyrus warily answers.

"I don't think I've ever sensed anyone with a bloodline as strong as Ashton's. It's... I don't even really know how to quantify it besides immense. And it's scary. I won't deny that. A bit off-putting too because he's Earth and I'm Air. But also incredibly comforting when you know they're on your side," Dorian explains.

Cyrus gives him a blank look.

"I– It's– Look, I know it was unconventional. I went in thinking I'd take their hospitality for a few days, maybe a week, and be on my way. But it felt like a slightly off-kilter sort of right to be in Ashton's care. Like– like the stories mom would tell, about how the greater Elementals, the greater bloodlines and families of the genasi, are supposed to care for and protect those under them. That's how strong Ashton's bloodline is, strong enough to overcome the divide of elements," Dorian desperately tries to explain.

Cyrus gives his little brother a searching look.

"...Okay. I believe you," he softly says. "But I also think that's kind of terrifying, and it makes me worried for you."

"I'm alright. I promise," Dorian gently murmurs, pulling Cyrus in to press their foreheads together. "Ashton's rough around the edges, but good. I'm just going to miss them."

Cyrus doesn't say that that's what worries him. All genies, all greater Elementals, are collectors. And he's terrified by what may have collected his little brother.

#MQ&A #MQ AU machine #MQfic #high seas hells au #orym of the air ashari #liliana temult #partner swap au #dorian storm #cyrus wyvernwind #ashton greymoore

[vigilante-fangirl]

Lost in Evergreen: A New Assignment, Unlikely Allies Chap 2

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Prompt: You just can’t seem to catch a break

Warnings: Cursing, Dubious consent, Spoilers for season 1 finale of peacemaker

{Part 1 }

"You are!" you shout, unable to hold back your amusement at Adrian's stammering response. Laughter bursts out of you, and a mischievous glint dances in your eyes. "You chased me all the way here? Adrian, you really take your job as a 'restaurant police' seriously, don't you?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at him. "And how did you even get changed so fast? Do you keep that costume in your car or something?" Your laughter echoes through the alleyway.

Vigilante's face flushes with embarrassment, but he tries to regain his composure. "NO! Wait I’m not Adrian, I don’t even know who that is! He must be a great guy though. Whoever he is!” He says with frustration.

“It’s you?” You say with a smirk.

“UGH! Look! You ran off without paying! That's a criminal offense, so you have to pay!" he insists, his determination evident.

"Money?" you quip, raising an eyebrow playfully. 

"No, like god dammit, I'm going to kill you now," he sighs, frustration tingeing his voice as he readies his fighting pose.

His comment makes you laugh even harder, your amusement spilling over as you lean against the alleyway wall. "I'm sorry, restaurant boy, but you're not gonna hurt me, let alone kill me!" you taunt. 

"Just try and catch me, DORK!" you stick out your tongue mischievously before darting into the alleyway, inviting him to give chase. Vigilante grunts, his determination driving him forward as he sprints after you.

As the distance between you and Vigilante closes, you phase through a nearby dumpster, effortlessly blending with the shadows. Vigilante's eyes dart around the alley, searching for any sign of your presence. "O-okay! You're a meta-human, but that doesn't matter! I'm still gonna make you pay!" he declares, refusing to be deterred. He knows that you possess the ability to disappear and reappear at will, making you a slippery target. Yet, he remains focused.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blows in his direction, carrying a faint trace of your perfume. In that split second, you reappear behind him. With lightning reflexes, Adrian spins around, his fists clenched and ready for you to strike. You waste no time, channeling your phasing abilities as you lunge forward, your hand poised to strike his jaw. But at the last moment, Vigilante evades your attack.

As your fist passes through the air, Vigilante seizes the opportunity. He counters with a swift roundhouse kick, aimed for your stomach. However, you effortlessly phase through the blow, evading the strike. Unfazed, you phase your hand into his chest, disrupting his equilibrium and causing him to stagger backward.

"Got your heart~" you wink mischievously before phasing through another wall, leaving Adrian to grapple with the sudden intrusion and regain his footing. You continue to phase through the alleyway walls, shoving him playfully and taunting him along the way. "Woah! I can sense your malice? You must really hate me~" your disembodied voice echoes through the alleyway. "No matter, this fight is over! You think a trained hero like me would lose to you?" you laugh as you appear behind him, about to launch another attack.

In a split-second reaction, Vigilante spins around, attempting to grapple you, but his aim is a little off. His hands land on your breasts, and both of you freeze, shocked by the sudden intimate contact. A mixture of embarrassment and a blush colors your face, while Vigilante flexes his fingers in astonishment. "Woah! Just like in anime! That's crazy! I mean, what are the od-" Before he can finish his sentence, you slap him hard across the face, causing him to release his grip.

"HEY! Rude!" he exclaims, rubbing his cheek in disbelief.

"Y-YOU YOU PERVERT!" you yell, your voice filled with outrage. "Oh my gosh, you didn't want a fight. You just wanted to be a SCUMBAG! GASP! And that wasn't malice, was it? It must have been lust! I barely know you, you perv!" You continue to rant, slowly floating in the air, holding your chest protectively.

“And that’s why you dressed up like that so you could feel up vulnerable women! You’re no hero!” You yell.

“H-hey! I am a hero! I’m the Vigilante! I stop evil people like you!” He yells back at you pointing.

 "I can't believe I was actually enjoying our fight! I am out of here!" With a final indignant blow of a raspberry, you fly away at lightning speed, leaving a bewildered Vigilante behind. He tries to give chase but you're flying faster than ever.

You flew through the night sky, your senses sharp as you searched for your handler's location. But your mind kept drifting back to the encounter with the masked man, Vigilante. The memory of his touch lingered, causing a hint of a blush to rise on your cheeks. It felt like hours before you finally spotted Harcourt's aura emanating from an old video store called Henenlotter Video. "That... That can't be the base of operations," you grimaced as you landed on the roof of the building. Phasing only your head inside the building, you observed four people engrossed in a discussion. The room had a high-tech feel to it, cleaner than its exterior suggested. As you looked around, you tried to make out their faces, and that's when you noticed one of them was your handler, Harcourt.

"Okay, so Waller has sent a new recruit to join us on our mission. She's the extra help we'll be getting this time around," Harcourt sighed, passing around your case files.

Adebayo flipped to the first page, cooing at your young Justice League photo. "Aw? But she's just a kid?"

"That's an older photo from when she was fifteen. Trust me, Harcourt and I had to watch over that brat on missions, and she was anything but sweet. She used her weird empathy powers disguised as sweet little hugs and gave me depression for a week. The kid was a menace! Remember, Harcourt?" Economos grimaced.

"Don't remind me. But that kid is now older and a part of this team, so once she arrives, play nice. I don't want another Valle Esperanza incident on our hands," Harcourt warned. “Her plane should have landed hours ago? But she hasn’t texted me to pick her up? Where is she?” She would ask checking your location with your tracker. "That's weird? Why does it say she's right on top of us?"

“What happened at Valle Esperan-OH MY GOD!” Adebayo shrieked, pointing to the ceiling where your head was partially phased in.

"For the love of God, get down here!" Harcourt yelled, and you obliged. "God, okay, everyone, this is Ghostmaker tw-"

"Spectra! I'm Spectra!" you interrupted, landing defiantly on a desk.

Harcourt glared at you. "No? It's Ghostmaker tw-"

"It's SPEC-TRA! I told Waller I'm not my sister!" you shot back, your glare matching Harcourt's intensity.

"God dammit! Fine! Spectra, aka (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Her powers are listed in the brief. Flight, phasing, and you know the rest. And please, no one lose them this time, SMITH?" Harcourt scolded, directing her glare at Peacemaker, who wasn't paying attention, absorbed in the file. He pulled out a picture and studied it intently.

"She looks familiar. Wait, I worked with Ghostmaker before. Babe was a fucking smokeshow! Tall and built like an Amazon. Of course, I don't like my women too muscular," he smirked, then compared the picture to your current appearance. "Man, you really let yourself go, Ghostmaker? Plus, now you're shorter?"

Your anger flared. "I'm her sister! See, this is why I didn't want to be named Ghost-"

Before you could finish your sentence, a familiar figure in a costume emerged from the bathroom, holding an icepack to his face. “Guys, I don’t think the swelling is going down-”

"YOU!" both of you exclaimed in unison, and you instinctively jumped back behind Harcourt.

"You've only been in town for a couple of hours. How do you know Vigilante?" Harcourt questioned, annoyance evident in her voice.

“I slapped him?” You would say nonchalantly. 

“Adrian you said you got that from running into a wall?” Adebayo would question.

Vigilante would stand frozen trying to come up with something to continue his lie.

"Noo? I slapped him? Because he's the pervert who groped me after trying to kill me, might I add!" you accused, pointing a finger in his direction.

The team exchanged skeptical glances, unsure of whether to believe that Vigilante would engage in such behavior. Vigilante was shocked that his teammates and ‘best friends’ would entertain the idea that he would do something like that.

"Vig, did you?" Peacemaker asked, his tone filled with uncertainty.

"WH-NO! She stole from Fennel Fields and then skipped out on her bill! What's this criminal doing here?"

"Not denying the groping part, huh?" Economos joked, causing the tension to rise further.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Vigilante exclaimed, his voice filled with frustration. The team's suspicion only intensified.

"So you did grope her, dude?” Peacemaker would say with a joking smile. “Boobs or Butt? Because one is way worse than the other.”

“Smith!” Harcourt would yell at Peacemaker shaking her head.

Vigilante's face turned bright red as he stammered in response. "No! It wasn't intentional! It was a mistake, I swear!"

"Sure, sure," you said, rolling your eyes while holding your chest. "Bet that's what he always says... the JERK!"

Harcourt interrupted the moment, her voice filled with irritation. "Enough! We have a mission to focus on. Ghostma-Spectra, Vigilante, put your personal issues aside. We need to work together to take down our target. Let’s finally begin the debrief so we can leave before midnight…”

The next night, you were assigned to do lookout duty with Vigilante. There was a secret town hall meeting taking place in Evergreen. The mayor was suspected to be a butterfly or butterfly sympathizer, rallying up the locals. Some residents had taken to worshiping the butterflies as benevolent gods and providing them with a new food source other than amber. You and the team were tasked with finding and destroying this new sect and their food source.

“This fucking sucks… why’d I get paired with you!” you whispered angrily as you peered through the binoculars, focusing on the building.

“I didn’t wanna get assigned to you EITHER!” Vigilante whisper-yelled back.

“Both of you shut the hell up! Watch Adebayo and Economos as they enter the building. We don’t want the butterflies to catch on, and DON’T lose them! Smith and I will provide recon and investigate the building, and NO arguing!” Harcourt's voice came through the earpiece, trying to maintain control.

You pouted as you lay in the grass, still looking through the binoculars. Both of you sat in silence before Vigilante cleared his throat multiple times, seemingly wanting to speak.

“God damn! What!” you snapped at him, taking your earpiece out. Vigilante looked at you, his eyes wide before huffing and folding his arms.

“I didn’t grope you, by the way,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“What?” you sat up, frowning at him.

“Earlier! You made everyone think I’m the weirdo, but you ran into me. You... you practically put your boobs in my hands!” Vigilante raised his voice a little, actually sounding hurt.

"WHAT!" You blushed as you stood up, getting closer to him, sticking your finger in his chest. 

"Listen here, buddy! I did NOT! If I wanted to put my boobs in your hands, they would be!" You huffed as you went back to your binoculars.

"Wait, so does that mean you wanted me to grope you?" Vigilante tilted his head, looking confused.

"No, you dingus! I... oh, fuck!" You stared through the binoculars at the team running back towards you two, and you quickly put your earpiece back in. Harcourt's voice filled your ear, scolding you for not paying attention. The butterflies had discovered the team, and a gunfight had broken out. Harcourt was calling for backup, but you and Vigilante were too busy arguing. The scolding continued until the team returned to the base at the video store.

Fed up with Harcourt's lecture, you phased away mid-ear lashing. Although you messed up at the end of the mission, it was considered a success because the team had discovered that there were still butterflies and their supporters in Evergreen and the surrounding states. You sat out front on a curb as the group finished up their debrief. Adrian was the first to come out, looking for you. Once he found you, he fidgeted with his fingers, staying silent for a minute.

"Saw you got in trouble with Harcourt and the rest of the team," He finally spoke up.

You remained silent.

"I could drive you back to your hotel! They're finishing up now, but Harcourt is still PISSED at you," he chuckled, eliciting a long sigh from you.

"Why? Aren't I a criminal? Or are you gonna try more funny business?" you asked, rolling your eyes while still looking down.

He rolled his eyes at your statement. "I was trying to be nice! But you are right?"

"About the funny business?" You looked confused but had a slight smile.

"N-no! About being a criminal part!"

"Aw, you big dork. I'm kidding, and I'll go and pay in the morning. Once I get settled, of course. Ms. Waller gave me funds for a month," you explained as you got up.

"We can go together... just so I can make sure... you pay!" he stammered out. 

You shrugged as you walked up closer to him, examining him intensely. He tensed up with you being so close.

"Relax, I'm just examining your aura. Your intentions look pure, so I'll go with you tomorrow. Tell Harcourt I’m going to the hotel," you said, starting to float and quickly kissing his cheek before taking off.

Adrian held his cheek, looking bewildered. He jumped when he heard someone clear their throat.

"Dude creeping on the newbie?" Peacemaker teased as Adrian removed his mask.

"No! If anything, I hate her! She's so... WEIRD! Did you see that?! Now who’s the scumbag!" he yelled at Peacemaker.

"Bro! You gotta be kidding..." Peacemaker laughed.

#vigilante peacemaker #vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante x you #Vigilante x y/n #peacemaker #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #x reader #some ppl might be ooc like harcourt but i. imagine she takes on murn's role if there is ever a season 2 #spoiler also but Y/N isn't really all that good at fighting Adrian would have won if she didn't dip lol

[liminalpebble]

Violet: Chapter 18, The Nativity

Masterlist link

The holiday season descended upon their little London social circle in a great wave of mirth and relief. It glowed like a luminous hearth against the heavy cold and darkness of deep winter. Even Will, generally adverse to parties and social graces was feeling the festive spirit and enjoying the company of the few people he liked. Not to mention that the relief of Violetta no longer being his student was nearly palpable for the both of them.

The Reverend had shaken each student's hand as they filed out after receiving their final grades for the semester. Violetta was the last in line.

“Miss Vespero,” he said with a sly grin, “Thank you for an enlightening and challenging semester. I foresee you doing quite well in the world and wish you all the best.”

As she shook his hand, his thumb stroked a delicate little circle on her wrist which shot a spark through her.

“Thank you, Reverend. I hope I wasn't too disruptive.”

He smiled and looked to the floor, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Sometimes a little disruption is a good and necessary thing. It's been quite enriching for me. In any case, shall we declare our contest a draw and leave it at that?”

He looked up to meet her eyes inquisitively, and she raised her eyebrow in that impudent expression that drove him to animal madness. “No, Father. It's fairly clear that I've won. And I'm not a victor who is generous with sharing her laurels.”

He gave a crooked grin, a wink, and whispered under his breath, “That a girl.”

----

The Ambrose abode flared into rowdy life. The maids decorated and prepared for the upcoming parties, swaddling the mansion in red and green garlands while day after day callers came to greet the beloved couple and welcome them back. Violet was startled by all the commotion after having the grand home mostly to herself for so long, but the colorful decorations, laughter, smells of find food, mulled wine, and fresh evergreen were, she had to admit, a welcome intrusion. I think I needed a bit of this. I just didn't realize it, she thought to herself.

The first gathering was casual and intimate, comprised of those the Ambroses' considered their chosen family. They had invited Will's adult children and their families to the house for several cozy days with their father. Violetta was afraid it might feel a bit awkward, seeing this side of his life, especially considering that his oldest daughter was rather close to her age, but it all felt surprisingly natural. She caught herself gazing with warm admiration from the door frame as he sat cross-legged on the floor, making silly faces and cuddling his first grandchild (a baby boy who had just begun to crawl). Although the sight didn't tempt her in the least to have children of her own, it melted her heart with a new and unexpected wave affection for him. She had never seen this soft playful and completely unguarded aspect of him, overjoyed to be in his element, surrounded by his family.

The little group sat in a circle on the floor as the baby crawled around in the middle. They chatted over his coos and giggles while Jo spoke quietly to her father. “Papa, I worry about you out here in London. Are you sure you won't come back to Essex? I know you tend to be lonesome.”

Will finished making his comical expressions at his grandson then answered her. He was still gently holding his pudgy little hand as he gave Violetta the slightest knowing smile. “Jo, darling, I'm doing just fine here. Really,” he assured her, patting her shoulder. “I'm finding so much joy in teaching. I was a bit sad at first but it's turned out the be the breath of fresh air I needed. Oh! And the college has the most exquisite library!” Violet smiled to herself at that, but didn't dare to meet his eye. Jo nodded and grinned in tacit surrender, just glad to see her father uncharacteristically content. As she did, Violetta was stunned to realize how much she looked like Will, with her curious aquatic eyes and shy smile.

Jo noticed her curious look and asked sweetly, “Violet, what are you thinking, love?”

“Pardon me. I was just taken aback by how very much you resemble each other.”

The father and daughter looked to each other and chuckled. Will said, “you're not the first to see it. We hear it often.”

Violetta felt a tug and looked down to see the baby wrapping his little fist around the fabric of her apron. Giggling at her, he started to climb. Will and Jo smiled their matching smiles as she exclaimed, “Aww Violet, darling, little Emil seems to like you!”

“That's...that's sweet,” she said. The tiny human made her nervous. She had never been around children, especially not babies. Her aristocratic family was more in the habit of delegating the care of their offspring to hired help, and seeing them as rarely as possible.

“You're welcome to hold him,” Jo said.

“Umm...I've never tried that before. I don't know.”

Will scooted over to her, lifting his tiny grandson easily in his large hands, arranging her arms around him to support his head and body. “There,” he said kindly, “that's not so scary, is it?”

Violet looked to both of them, equally proud that she was doing it and red-faced with embarrassment that she was afraid to. “He has your eyes,” she said, looking first to Will and then to his daughter.

Will tilted his head in consideration, “Well, all babies have blue eyes for a time. They change after awhile.”

“I...uh...I'm ashamed to say with all the scientific curriculum I've studied, I never knew that. “

Jo laughed. “Papa tells me you were very studious and fearless in your classes, and yet little Emil here makes you nervous? I promise you, being around him is significantly easier than enduring my father's lectures.”

Will rolled his eyes at her playful jab.

Violet laughed. “Oh no. I see my reputation precedes me.”

Will elaborated, “Just a bit, I'm afraid. But not to worry. I've mostly said nice things about you behind your back, Miss Vespero. It was very satisfying to be challenged.”

“Mostly?” Violet said, and they all chuckled.

It was just half a second of a friendly glance, but Jo (just as emotionally perceptive as her mother always was) noticed something in it. It was so quick, so subtle. She wasn't sure if she had imagined it, but she thought she saw something between them. Jo initially felt a little jolt of surprise at the idea. It would be an unusual pair, certainly, she thought. But soon a feeling of contentment settled over her. She had only recently met Violetta, but she liked her immensely; a modern and progressive young woman like herself, sharing the same struggles for equality. She smiled with quiet thought as her father often did, satisfied that he might not be so alone after all. Jo decided he was in good hands if he was indeed in Violet's. And judging by that tiny glance, he was very much in the palm of her hand and probably head over heels.

All of their eyes suddenly followed the sound of the door bell, and a new guest being greeted. Violetta's enjoyment was abruptly snuffed out as Luke Garrett swung into the room. Had he even been invited today? She suspected not.

Luke crowed, “Hello, Violet, Ransomes. Aww...look at that. How natural you seem with a baby! It's a regular nativity scene in here,” then laughed at his own cleverness. (No one else did). Violetta gave him a glare that said, in no uncertain terms, that she would be throttling him if not for the infant currently occupying her arms. She stayed calm and simply greeted him politely, then excused herself to help in the sanctuary of the kitchen. Emil gave one last determined tug to her skirt hem, trying not to let her go, but Will scooped him away from her in that practiced graceful way all parents seem have a knack for.

As she came into the kitchen, Greta rolled her eyes in solidarity, handing Violetta a nearly empty wine bottle, encouraging her to finish it off right from the spout. She gladly obliged and then said, “thanks” wiping her chin irreverently. “I needed that.”

Greta winked. “I know.”

---

Charles Ambrose eyed his pocket watch with a scowl as they all milled about the large parlor sipping drinks. He had hoped that the act would hint to Dr. Garrett that it was well past time for his departure (from a gathering he hadn't been invited to in the first place). Katherine and Charles sighed to each other, communicating about it in that wordless way that long-married couples are capable of. Realizing they weren't getting anywhere with subtle manners, they simply tried to ignore him as much as possible and enjoy the other guests on this otherwise pleasant afternoon. Eventually a socially-exhausted Violetta escaped to the library, rubbing her temples and trying to breathe deeply, but the cause of her headache followed closely on her heels.

Garret swaggered in saying, “Fancy a chat, Violet?”

How she hated the way his grating voice wrapped around her name.

“I'd rather not, Luke,” she sighed out, exasperated.

“Oh, but I think we might have a good deal to talk about.”

“Such as?” she snapped, raising her voice slightly.

“We might want to lower our voices, darling. I'd rather not announce your secrets to the whole house.”

Violetta felt her red-hot blood drain from her face as it blanched to a nauseous sallow hue. He smiled like a snake.

“So who is she, Violet?,” he asked, swirling his drink with unbothered ease.

She?, Violetta thought, Thank god he thinks that. I guess he doesn't know everything.

“I have no idea what you're talking about Garrett.”

“Oh, but I think you do. Which lovely little London lady gave you all those pretty bruises. If that's what you like, you should have just said so. I could have happily given you some myself.”

Her eyes went wide. “Garrett! That was a private medical exam! Did you force poor Spencer to break confidentiality? You should lose your license for this.”

“Oh come on, Violet. Spencer and I share a practice. He didn't tell me and I didn't ask, but I happened to hear. Now tell me, who's the lucky lady keeping you from marrying me? Maybe that sweet little cook I saw you swigging from the bottle with, like a sailor? Maybe Martha, that little communist bother? She seems your type...troublesome.”

“You are not entitled to know my personal business, and I will not tell you.”

He shrugged, “Well that's your choice of course, but your family thinks rather highly of me. If I were to tell them about your little indiscretions I'm sure they would believe me. Not just that, but oh dear, they would be terribly disappointed! They might just beg me to marry to you to save your poor soul and save face. But don't worry, I'm no prude. If your girlfriend happens to be an attractive one, we might as well have a guest in the bedroom.”

She came closer and growled out, “You're disgusting. And don't you think my family would expect such threats of blackmail just to get my dowry? It wouldn't be the first time they'd heard unfounded rumors to those ends.”

He stood a hair's breadth from her face and grabbed her chin. “And what exactly do you think you could do about any of this, hmm? I guess there's always the convent since you don't need men anyway.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked, voice sounding more shaky and weak than she intended. “My family would give you a grant on your own merits. They do it all the time. Why are you so intent on ruining my life!”

He tutted, giving an exaggerated sad face. “Oh poor princess, a grant is one thing but a lifetime of funding is quite another. Oh, and I've changed my mind since my last offer. I was going to give you a life free of children, dedicated to whatever pursuits you desire, but you look soooo sweet with a baby in your arms. It melted my heart a bit to think how cute you'd be when properly domesticated. Also, it would be terribly unfair to deny the world the gift of a Garrett heir.” He tugged her chin roughly toward him and kissed her cheek. His breath had the rotten-fruit stench of too much brandy and she recoiled violently, backing up into the book-shelved walls.

“But most of all, Violetta. I'm encouraging you because I really am growing to like you, like this game...this little back and forth we have.” He came closer until she was cornered, pressed into the leather and paper spines, and said, “I know it's all a bit much to take in. I'll give you two weeks to mull it over while you enjoy reading all those rejection letters. Maybe then you'll consider your options with a bit more realistic clarity. Farewell, dear girl. See you soon.”

And then the beady-eyed imp was gone, swinging out of the house as abruptly and ungraciously as he had entered it. Violetta wasn't sure how long she stood there with her back against the books, staring blankly, with her mouth open. She could still smell his sour brandy breath on her cheek and dove into her pocket for a handkerchief. Scrubbing furiously until her cheek was raw, she still couldn't clear the reek him, the touch of him, from her consciousness. Finally she dropped the cloth and simply began to weep, the dark orbs of her eyes misting over as tears streamed down her face. She tried to stop and tried to keep her hiccuping gasps quiet. She could only be grateful that the hubbub of the little afternoon party drowned out her pathetic whimpers.

Before she knew it she looked up and there was Will in the door frame smile dropping into an expression of horror as he said, “Violetta, we're about start with....Oh god! Darling, what's wrong? Was it Garrett?? What has he done to you!”

She nodded, but was too distraught to answer completely so Will simply held her as she cried into the placid softness of his blue sweater. She forced herself to take deep breaths, filling her nostrils with the smell of Will's lavender laundry soap to replace Garrett's odor. Violetta composed herself enough to quickly explain everything that had just happened in a frantic whisper, knowing their private moment would be limited. When she finished, she still couldn't pull away from Will's sturdy chest as the tears fell. She took solace in the fact that if anyone saw them, they would simply see a vicar comforting a young friend who had just received some kind of terrible news.

Will growled out in a low but furious voice...one she had never heard from him before, “There's a special place in hell for that awful man.”

Taglist: @coldnique @muddyorbs @goblingirlsarah @acidcasualties @jennyggggrrr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @icytrickster17 @pati52 @marcotheflychair @ladyofthestayingpower @gigglingtiggerv2 @alexakeyloveloki @letsg00000honey @bitchyexpertprincess @lokisgoodgirl @sweetsigyn @lovelysizzlingbluebird @talklokitome @dragonmurray @peaches1958

#lusty vicar #lusty vicarettes #essex serpent #essex serpent fanfic #will ransome #will ransome fanfic #SAS

[kheldara]

everytime I've switched on the telly recently i've found some fuzzy 80s Robin Hood tv show airing, and it's simultaneously Quite Funny (everyone has mullets, Robin has the charisma of a plank, an often intrusive soundtrack), but it's also somehow quite enjoyable and evergreen in an early M*rlin-y way (episodic; nonsense pagan magic; Guest Stars doing all the heavy lifting, everyone running around nice english woods & castles, etc).

#robin hood

[damedechance]

not a star

Kallias x Viviane | Read on AO3

[Listen to the Playlist]

This year, I had the tremendous pleasure of participating in the @acotargiftexchange and creating a fic for @daevastanner! Izzy, I really hope you enjoy this little moodboard and oneshot. Happy holidays, and please stay safe and warm!

Summary: At the Southern Border of the Winter Court, Viviane spends Solstice battling the growing resentment she feels towards her childhood friend, Kallias, who has mysteriously reappeared in her life after being the one to assign her to the border in the first place. She sets out on a mission to prove to him that he was wrong, which inevitably lands them both in deeper trouble, as the unspoken attraction between them lies just below the surface.

You can read the opening below, but the entire fic is on AO3!

The Southern Forest laid sprawling before her, a great taiga with its towering evergreens that spiraled so far into the sky, their very peaks were obscured behind the wintry fog. The pines were magnificent pillars, their branches full and laden with snow. They stood packed so densely together that nearly every inch of ground was covered. If she climbed down from this turret, she would find the forest nearly impossible to navigate, with its labyrinthine paths and the air thick with icy, suffocating wind.

She’d been to the Northern Border, seen the steep mountains and climbed to their summits. Even for the most seasoned of climbers, the mountains were practically a guaranteed death–either by hypothermia or a horrific fall down the sharp, jutting mountainside.  But Viviane would contend that the forest was far more lethal. That unseen enemies, disorientation, and madness would wear away one’s soul long before the cold wore all the way through their bodies.

It was exactly what made the Southern Border so impenetrable. The forest was a beast all on its own, something few dared to broach. But in these years, even the most calculated of Winter’s enemies were growing heedless. Roaring, desperate soldiers from Hybern that had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Viviane supposed the forest wouldn’t look so ominous to her, either, if she had a ruthless general like Amarantha and nothing waiting for her at home.

And so she stood, high upon the topmost platform of the turret, and braced her gloved hands on the railing in front of her. Eyes rocking over every inch of the vast, unfathomable forest, and carefully scanning for any hint of intrusion or attack.

Such level of scrutiny was hardly necessary. Even on the night of Winter Solstice, the guards were as watchful as ever, and there were many eyes on the taiga tonight. Her guard was a formidable force, keen and powerful. They would have managed tonight’s patrol just fine without her.

In fact, her absence likely would have been more productive, in the long run. As it was, her unusually sharp and caustic demeanor was setting them all on edge. She could feel the anxiety in the air just as biting as the chill in the wind. She was well aware that it was her fault, that this stark contrast to her usual levity and compassion had flipped the dynamic.

Usually, Viviane was kind. She put her guards at ease by offering smiles, or inquiring about their families. On occasion, she had even been known to suggest sledding or group meals in their off-time, just to bolster morale. Viviane cared for the people who were under her authority, but more than that, she fought for the people under her protection.

A fact that at times warped and twisted in on itself. Brought fear and self-doubt instead of warmth and satisfaction. She had to protect them. It was her job. It was all she had.

Viviane’s hands tightened around the railing, and she ignored the way she could feel her knuckles practically splitting the skin that stretched over them as the cold metal bit into her palms. She wouldn’t allow herself to be resentful of the fact that this border guards was the only responsibility she had, now. Not even if that meant admitting that she had been cast aside, that everything else she had once cared about was now under the protection of someone else. Admitting that she couldn’t do more.

A few miles north, there laid a city. One that was just fierce and scrupulous enough to survive out in this taiga. It was where many of the guards went for a drink or a hot meal after their shifts. Where they slept at the inn, after one too many drinks made them far too sluggish to return to their tents at the border. It was lively and bright, a guiding light in this endless blizzard.

A visitor had arrived in that city that very morning, all too painful a reminder of everything Viviane longed for.

Which, perhaps, was exactly what her turbulent mood could be attributed towards.

She took refuge in the wind that slashed across her number cheeks, in the snow that fell over her head, clumped in the fibers of her fur-lined coat. The harsh winter was at least familiar enough that she could find comfort in it, even as the ends of her fingers lost feeling and she constantly had to suppress her shivering.

This was familiar. He was not.

Viviane supposed it might have hurt less, if she had never seen him again.

#acotar secret santa #acotar #viviane #kallias #viviane x kallias #winter court #fanfiction

[nonobadcat]

YANDERE ALL FOR ONE X FEMALE READER

Rating: While this excerpt is safe for everyone, the story itself is 18+

Entire Story TW: Noncon/DubCon, gore (non-reader directed), numerous kinks. Highly mentally and sexually abusive relationship. This story is absolutely not for minors and readers should consult the warnings/tags at the top before reading.

This chapter’s TW: Angst, Violence (non-reader directed), imagined character death

Read the entire story at: Archive of Our Own

Chapter 58 Excerpt:

You stomped your feet with a frustrated whine. “Why is everything I do so useless !?”

Yoichi took your hand in his and loosed a sardonic chuckle. “Talking to you is like hearing myself.”

“At least you stood up to your brother!” you snapped.

A curtain of white hair covered the young man’s face as he muttered. “No, I got locked in a vault for trying to stand up to him.”

You blinked. “Locked in a what ?!”

With a click of his tongue, Yoichi forced a grin and pointed up the trail. “So… the sun might be setting soon and it would be best that we find a flat spot to camp before then. We should really keep moving if you’re able, okay?”

“Did you say vault ?! As in a literal vault ?!”

Your companion’s eyes rolled to the ground as a sweat broke on his brow. His silence summoned forth a low ringing in your ears that crescendoed into warning bells screeching in your brain. 

“You…” You turned to face the young man. One shaking finger pointed at your own nose. “Y-you don’t think he’d…”

Green eyes refused to meet yours as he scratched the back of his head.

The sound of your shriek sent a nearby flock of crows careening into the sky.

Once you recovered from Yoichi’s terrifying reveal, he managed to coax you deeper into the hills. Each footfall fell heavier than the last as you trailed behind your over-attentive hero. Plodding progress was hard to make as what little light there was slipped behind the canopy of evergreens. Since your outburst, Yoichi had peppered you with questions and conversation that seemed more anxious than analytical. One word replies and half-hearted nods were all you could manage between the rapid fire intrusive thoughts taking potshots at your brain.

A vault.

An actual vault.

Not only could you believe it, but, without reservation or hesitation, you did believe it. The moment the bitter words slipped out of Yoichi’s mouth, they rang truer than your husband’s interest in Abrahamic religions by a long shot.

“Beaches or camping?”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

“For summer vacation as a kid,” your companion explained, raising one index finger on each hand. They wagged back and forth, beckoning you into the conversation. “Which one did you like better?”

“Oh…” Images of a fanged smile and the taste of Tiger’s Blood syrup flooded your thoughts. “Beaches, I guess.”

“You grew up in Niigata, right?” Yoichi frowned. “I suppose it was a silly question. You’re probably obligated to pick beach vacations, aren’t you?”

“Well, my aunt would be very mad if I said camping. She runs a shaved ice stand.” Your voice trailed off into a quiet murmur. “That’s where I met your brother.”

As your words stretched into awkward silence, Yoichi gave you a strained smile. “Well, let’s talk about something else then. What’s your favorite type of food?”

“Crepes.” The taste of fruit and cream danced on your tongue as soon as you said the word. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine yourself sitting in the Bandai shopping center, nibbling on the soft vanilla treat. However, the sweet memory turned into blazing embarrassment as you pictured the time your husband bypassed a bite of your ice cream to take a taste of your lips. With a groan, you smacked your forehead. “Seriously, this is insane!”

Yoichi raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

You buried your face in your hands. “Everything we talk about makes me keep thinking about him!” Your nails dug into your scalp as you tore at your hair in frustration. “He’s made my whole life about him for so long that he’s inside my mind!”

With a grimace, Yoichi patted your shoulder. “He does that on purpose, but you’re strong. You’ll get past it.”

You laughed bitterly and shook your head. “I’m not trying to let him in. He’s just—” Your words choked into silence.

“...he’s just there, right?”

You nodded before a low whimper peeled from your throat.

“Hey…” Yoichi wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “He’s done nothing but manipulate you for months. Of course it messed with you.”

“I don’t want it to mess with me!” you whined. “I don’t want him in my head!”

Yoichi squeezed your arm, pulling you into his side. He smelled like sugar and clean laundry. “I know.”

You sniffed back a load of fresh tears before wiping your nose on your already snot slathered sleeve. “I know, you know. You know better than anyone.” With a deep inhale, you glanced up at him. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get past him?”

A sad smile tugged at the young man’s lips. “With help from my heroes.”

Read the rest at: Achive of Our Own

@averydrunksatyr @shigashig @shig-a-shig-ah @weo0o @feral-creep @raygard-elvets @awkward-confused @vizhi0n @dokoni-mo @the-lady-writes-what @all4one @avelaste @diowithagun @yeunsstuff @river-to-swim-forever @lizthewitchh @0-ddball @catalystgaming27 @cityscapingly @imdatingyourdad @gxmblinqueen @villaincxmdump @yandereloveraw @seijohmilktea @kermitthekrog-blog@toughbook @fgkween

#afo x reader #yandere afo x reader #yandere shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #afo bnha #yandere x reader #bnha x reader #all for one x reader #bnha x y/n #yandere all for one #all for one bnha #a hypnotic nightmare

[butch-lionblaze]

Wc au writing, BlueQuince meeting and a lot of talk on how she loves:

(brief mentions of blood and lots of memories.)

Bluemoon loves in the way of a warrior, the only way she’s ever learned how to. She learned it from a father who was in her life like the passing storm he was, a distant drop of rain to an overpowering force tearing the trees from their roots. She never got her mother’s version of affection besides in the self sacrificing way. Her sister got that piece of her as well.

Her love is of service. A duty. She showed it by wrapping around those who were worthy and never letting anything get in. Or at least trying to not let anything in.

(The horrible feeling of cold crept in under her well made shell and stung. Ice, frost, snow, an impossibly small kit only covered in down succumbing to its greedy teeth. It’s little evergreen tail lost in the endless white winter around them.)

She knew the land that bowed to her step like its endless twisting trunks grew from her own body. An ever stretching expanse of green leaves and brown bark. The rocks under her paws were always the same. The birds singing above were always the same. The swaying shadows were always the same. It all held her like the warm pelt of another. She was alone yet so set in her place out here. She was of the moss and flowers, her blood pulsed and bled out into it all around her.

But the normal sound of her feathered fellow was cut off- and everything was new. Startling so.

(That same chill stabbed through the few unprotected parts of her and she felt herself shiver once again. No snow, no snow, no snow-)

Her legs warped and ran her forward. They didn’t need her brain to instruct their movement, they knew the ground underneath it, they knew to go before she froze to the forest floor. The act made her warmer. Blooming in her with an adrenaline that put her in overdrive.

Bluemoon broke out through a thorn bush, not even feeling its claws dig into her. And she was still hot. No longer from the forced movement that overtook her- no now it was from the anger that made her body bare up to fight. Thistleclaw stood behind his apprentice, the young naive Tigerpaw, instructing the striped kit to attack a scrawny little thing. It was shaking. The vibrations passed through the land and right into her own stiff stuck legs, like how she could sense a mouse hiding in a burrow. She knew the pairing of Thistleclaw with any young one would go bad but this. This was over the line. Sunstar had only done it to try and appease the enraged warrior after he was passed over for deputyship.

She felt herself barrel into Thistleclaw, paws against his back pushing him into the dirt, his grey fur tangling into her drawn claws. But instead she swiped her tongue to stop this- whatever this even was.

“Thistleclaw what do you and your apprentice think you’re doing?” She asked, letting her claws sink into the earth to hold herself in place while she spoke. He turned to her with a heat, his hatred for her boiling up once again. Tigerpaw stepped back and slunk down, suddenly realizing the white warrior was here. That wounded kit was still shaking and frozen in place despite being able to escape now.

Thistleclaw puffed himself up and pushed his voice to be more confident and less outright angry at her intrusion to his ‘training’. “I’m teaching my apprentice to defend his clan.”

“This is not how you train Thistleclaw. Defending borders doesn’t include attacking a lost kitten!”

All he did was give a lick to his chest, as if he was in the right. Tigerpaw still kept himself small. She couldn’t help but soften her expression when it went to him. “This kittypet crossed into our woods, and my apprentice was teaching it a lesson. Do you want more soft bellied pests in Thunderclan’s land? Taking our food when they have enough given to them for nothing? We would starve is all these collared self called cats decided they wanted to try warm blooded food for themselves!”

Bluemoon bristled at the way he spoke like he owned the tabby, and she hissed lowly at how he took this time try and call her weak. “The kittypets know the woods aren’t for them Thistleclaw and thrashing an innocent kit won’t stop the occasional hunting by them-” While she hated it, she steeled herself into a boulder and tried to end this.

“-And I would hate to have to report your bloodlust and bad teaching to Sunstar. If he saw this clear lack of honor he’d be sure to replace you as Tigerpaw’s mentor. Maybe to someone he actually trusts.” Her words hit like a falling branch, knocking his head in and making the grey tabby shrivel. A sneer showed across his previously smug face, that underlying grudge growing again. She knew if he forgot the power she had over him he would’ve thrown himself at her right here. He might’ve done it anyways, if he was entirely sure he could actually defeat her.

Instead of putting himself in a worse place he twisted his head to Tigerpaw and called the apprentice to follow him, slinking away with heavy paw steps.

Bluemoon had to hold herself from grabbing Tigerpaw and not letting him back alone with Thistleclaw. But that would’ve only ended with the two grown warrior fighting. If she saw him like that again though she would be sure to report him to Sunstar. And he knew that.

Finally, as the heat drained from her and into the cooler earth she looked to the injured kit. It was small, and almost all black with one white paw. It’s huge glazed over blue eyes burning a hole through her. That love, her version of it, reared its powerful head and almost took over all of her. She felt herself again in that stuffy nursery, in a nest she never imagined herself back in, with three little paws kneading her belly. That same exhaustion almost made her collapse beside the kit but she wasn’t there. She was here. And it wasn’t hers. Still she loved it despite the sharp part of her sinking its teeth into her and telling her to never get attached again.

She shook it out and drew a tongue over the hits head. Trying to stop its shaking.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” She cooed as she licked away the salty blood that welled from the wounds across the kits face. It would scar. That set the dying embers of anger in her belly back alight. But she tried to keep that away to focus on the current kit in front of her.

Bluemoon didn’t know really what she was supposed to do at this point. It was a kit from a house, the smell of those places mixed in with the milky scent was there, even under its smell of overwhelming fear. It was probably hungry too. And cold.

(The temperature of this mystery kitten made her chest tighten. Her nose was frozen again. It was winter again. It was winter again. The sound of the river distant as the grief stabbed into her gut. She couldn’t save-)

She pulled her head from the frost and tried her best to warm it up. Small and frail against her, almost lost in her longer coat. She could save this one. She could save this. After a bit of curling around the kitten in silence, the warrior pulled her tongue from the place it stuck to in her mouth. As if it would shatter from anything above a whisper, she spoke so soft the wind could’ve easily taken her words away.

“Where’s your home kit?”

It looked up at her. Blue eyes slightly less clouded over. “O’er the fence. One with the bush”. Its voice was small and shaky still, with that kitten talk that made her melt immediately.

“I’ll bring you back kit. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

The warrior walked the strange streets and felt so out of place. The ground wasn’t soft or kind or comforting in anyway. It was the most disconnected she’d ever felt. The stronger breezes felt like they could steal the kit from her jaws. She didn’t tighten her hold but she did puff herself up bigger to combat it. Tall branchless trees stood over her and glowed unnaturally. Little stars seemingly trapped in their tough cages illuminating the black paths that carved between the many houses all around. They’d lit up just a little while ago but they still freaked her out. How had twolegs been able to catch the stars themselves? And why put such forces into these strange traps? It was wrong. She imagined her sister’s own spirit stuck in one. That made her stomach twist so bad she’d had to stop and duck into a darker more compact trail to breathe.

Now out of her hold and a little less shaky, the little kit stood and stretched a bit. Though it was slowly and with its eyes watching her the whole time. As if worried she’d snap it in half for stepping wrong. They stayed there for a while to rest. The sound only that of monsters roaming the paths and other strange clanging noises Bluemoon had no idea about.

“Thank you Miss.” the kit said shyly, looking down at its paws with a little bit of a frown as if upset by its own tongue.

“No need for thanks kit. Those cats never should’ve attacked you. I’m sorry they hurt you hon-“ she swallowed the endearing term. She couldn’t get attached.

The kit looked at her again with those eyes. So so blue. She didn’t know if its eyes were just that color or if it was still young enough to have that innocent blue in its eyes. Either version made her angry at Thistleclaw.

It had a thought at the tip of its tongue, possibly worried at what saying it would do but wanting to anyways. Finally the kit gave in and spoke “My names Tiny.”

“Hello then Tiny. I’m Bluemoon.” The name fit the little kit but she couldn’t help but feel like the name was half thought. It’d be tiny forever. She’d of named it something more like Midnight, for its incredibly dark pelt and startling white paw- the fact that slipped into her thoughts made her shiver. Cold again. Always cold. This wasn’t her kit. The sooner she found its nest the sooner she could move on.

“Blue… but you’re not blue.”

Bluemoon couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Her mind moving past at least. “No I am not blue but that’s just what I was named. Moon makes it a little more suiting doesn’t it?”

The kit- no Tiny thought for a bit and then nodded. Still a little confused but not going to question her name. Funny little thing. Though she wondered about how considerate it was of its words. Most kits just said what they thought freely. It reminded her oddly of herself. She hoped this kit wasn’t too much more like her though.

“Tiny do you know the way to your home? I’m pretty lost here.” Bluemoon asked as she stretched, getting ready to start walking again. She wouldn’t like to be here all night, especially not with such a small kitten. It was most definitely hungry by now.

Tiny shook its head slightly but then lifted its eyes back up as if figuring something out. “It’s next to a blue one though. And its fence is brokn.” It said, a long yawn following the little description. Poor thing. But Bluemoon now knew she was looking for a blue house. Well the house next to one but that would be easier to find. The warrior dipped down and scooped up the kit carefully, tucking it closer into her fur so it was slightly more covered as she walked forward.

Bluemoon had found two houses so far but neither had a house next to them with a broken fence. Her paws felt shredded from the rough terrain and her muscles were sore, walking and holding a kitten for so long was really wearing her out. Finally after she climbed up on a roof she saw another blue house. If this wasn’t the one she’d start her way back home.

The building wasn’t far from the woods and she probably would’ve checked it initially if she hadn’t started her searching already farther into the twolegplace. The house looked like most of the rest of them. Plain strange walls. So many objects she had no words for. Before she went up to check around she said a small prayer. And then she walked forward, coming from the front to then climb into the fence to see into it. The yard was like most of the rest as well except bushes lined the back wall. It wasn’t that odd but maybe, just maybe this was the one? Bluemoon did a quick look around before jumping down and luckily only smelled cat here.

Her heart soared as her ears caught the wailing of a cat, an anxious cry that made her know she was in the right place. Carefully the white cat jumped down and set Tiny at her paws. Having heard her the one that was yelling came around, looking almost like she was going to try and chase Bluemoon off herself but switching immediately upon seeing the little kitten.

She was a chubby black molly with warm eyes and odder white markings. She was small in stature but something about her gave Bluemoon the feeling like she could’ve beaten her if she had attacked immediately.

“Oh Tiny! Oh my baby my baby!” She sobbed as she carefully wrapped herself around the kitten, frantically licking warmth into its skin. The mother switched back to defensive when she noticed the new wounds in her kits face. The fur on her back lifted and hackles raised, now launched up to stand over Tiny with the power of a protective mother. Blue backed off and made herself less threatening, which was hard as she was rather tall compared to Tiny’s mom. But before anything happened Tiny moved between them.

“Momma momma momma! It’s okay it’s okay! Blue bought me here. She didn’t hurt me she helped me get back!” Tiny cried, trying its best to look bigger and break through its mom’s anger. Luckily she listened. Tiny’s mother softened slightly but still pulled her kit closer to her again.

The two cats just stared for a second. The distant crickets chirping as if it was a normal night. She only wished it was.

But the black and white molly relaxed more at last and laid down, her head nudging the ground to tell Bluemoon to as well. “Thank you for bringing back my little trouble. I don’t know how to make it up to you. I don’t know what id do with myself if my baby never came home.” She said kindly, blinking gratitude into her gaze. Bluemoon blushed a bit and tucked her paws underneath her fur to be more comfortable looking.

“No problem miss-“ She started to say before the molly cut in.

“No need for any misses. it’s Quince. Any cat who takes care of my babies gets to know my name.” Quince said with a laugh that made her smile with just its sound.

“Well then Quince my names Bluemoon. It was no issue getting it home, I just hope Tiny’ll be okay with the scratches and all.” She finished saying, a smile across her face as she tried to not take too much complimenting. The kit never should’ve been hurt in the first place. Guilt grew in her again. Some amount of it always hurt in her, but she tried to keep it from her pelt.

Quince shook her head harshly “Bluemoon… you’re one of those outside cats aren’t you?” She asked with a little edge of unease in her voice again.

Bluemoon swallowed carefully, trying to figure out what to say exactly. How is she supposed to respond? She is of course but she didn’t know if the fire would leap back her new acquaintance if she said so. But she couldn’t lie.

“Yes ma’am I am. I’m a warrior of Thunderclan-“ She started to say trying to be as careful as she could, still not knowing how she should explain all that happened. “- but I didn’t hurt your kit. Another warrior did and I promise you he will get a punishment for it. Warriors aren’t supposed to attack any cats that can’t defend themselves, and are never ever to harm a kitten. If you’d like I can head back. All I wanted to do was make sure Tiny got to a safe place.”

The cat across from her clearly didn’t know how to respond either. She had started to bristle back up again but the fur laid down as Bluemoon spoke. And she now just watched, eyes searching across her own to see whether she believed her or not. Presumably she wasn’t worth attacking because Quince went back to being more comfortable, that gratitude glowing in her face again. She bit back her own thoughts on that. Better to not show a lot of herself to a stranger. Let alone the things that bother her.

“Well thank you then. I hope he is dealt with however you warriors deal with your own.” Quince passed another lick down Tiny’s face before she got up and took it inside, probably to rest. That kitten needed plenty of sleep after the day it’s had. A want to follow made her twitch but she bit it off again. That’s not her business. She wasn’t Tiny’s mother. For a bit she sat there in the grass waiting to see whether she was to leave or stay. It was darker with the strange light coming from the inside of the home into the yard. But she stayed mostly in the natural light, looking at the moon above her. Finally at last she decided it would be best to leave so she got up and jumped to the top of the fence. She could’ve gone under the bushes and out the broken part but the would involve more noise and scrambling then she wanted.

But as Bluemoon stood ready to make her leave Quince came back out from the house.

“Hey! Don’t leave just yet Blue- not without a final thank you.” The black cat called and Bluemoon immediately turned around. She didn’t know why. A deep part of herself told her to leave. She wasn’t even supposed to speak to kittypet’s in the first place, and now she had wandered through their domain for hours to give back a kitten. But what was a little longer in the end? Shoving it down she jumped back to Quince. She knew if her father were here he’d of grabbed her by the scruff and dragged her back like she was a kitten herself.

She stood in front of Quince who looked at her in a way that made her forget her father entirely.

In the round cat’s maw was a flower, its blue petals stiff but beautiful. It didn’t smell like anything close to other flowers.

“I don’t know if warriors have these sorts of things but it feels wrong to not give a gift for you bringing me back Tiny. It’s just a fake but it’ll never wilt.” Quince had dropped it on the grass and was looking right into her own eyes, and Bluemoon almost felt like she was blessed. The stars blinked above her as if to say, go on, to her. The warrior had never felt so lost for words. And despite only just meeting her she felt the same protectiveness well up and wash over her. She felt like a guardian to Quince and her kits. She felt like her only duty was to her. She was a loyal warrior and yet now she had another to care for. So much took over her that she simply blinked before grabbing the gift that felt more special then anything else in her life. And even though she hadn’t said anything to Quince the cat dipped her head and turned back around to go to her house with its warm light and odd smells.

Bluemoon barely even felt her body as she turned around and leaped over the fence. Didn’t acknowledge as the trees blurred around her and the stray plants brushed against her. She felt the rocks under her paws but she also now felt the cats that were far behind her.

As she made her way back to camp she stopped and sat under a tree she hadn’t visited in a while. One with five stones and beautiful moon flowers around it. Tucking herself in its sheltered scoop of roots, she slept. A new flower tucked right at her chest.

#this is all impulse writing so take it as you will #it’s also heavily impacted by how I think cuz I love blue and project a lot on her #no clue how tiny would be later in the au but I wanted to right this #also Bluemoon is very much aromantic. her version of love is of sacrificing and being the sword and shield for others #her and quince would be queer platonic #bluefur #Bluestar #wc fanfic #my writing #bluequince #quince wc #wc quince #stormfur #tiny wc #moonflower #thistleclaw #tigerpaw #mosskit #wc au #Warrior cats au #my wc aus #wc writing #warrior cats writing

[seancekitsch]

Love your last one 🤌 can I request a cute one, Adrian first kiss / first time? Maybe in Highschool?

hieee this was requested a while ago but its done

“Wait, you guys don’t believe us?” you ask, trying not to crack up.

You and Adrian had been making jokes for weeks now. You’d lost your virginities to each other in high school, and you knew each other in ways no one else could. You were the only one allowed to joke about the fact that he cried his first time, and he was the only one allowed to make jokes about the face you made the first time you gave a blow job and you acted like it was going to attack you. 

Its just the way you joked, you knew each other a little too well and so do your jokes. 

“Someone like you fucked someone like him?” Chris asks, and at first you don’t think anything of it. Chris really thinks anyone without his physique is inferior, but he’s trying to unlearn that, key word trying. 

You just lean across your seat and kiss Adrian sloppily across his jaw to punctuate your point. He just blushes wildly and shrinks inward.  Adebayo and Harcourst flinch, but they’re secretly happy for their wallets. They’ve had a bet going about this very topic. Sure, its been almost ten whole years since you and Adrian hooked up, but its not like the thought of a do-over hadn’t crossed your mind. Adrian… well, he’s filled out, and he’s a little more mature. Not really, but a little. You wish you could kiss him the way you want to, on the lips and. not just to make a point. For real. 

“Thats fucking wild,” Chris concludes as he sips the last of his beer, and John only reinforces his thoughts with a nod. 

“We were cute!” you try to argue, but Chris is already leaving to pay out his tab, which means Harcourt and Adebayo are leaving because he always pays for them, and when you look over Economos is sliding away to his car outside. 

“Not you too!” you shout.

“You don’t want me here, I promise!” he calls as he follows on the rest of the groups coattails to the parking lot, and climbs into his beige hatchback to try peel out of the parking lot without notice. He’s anything but inconspicuous. 

Things get cozy quickly in the wooden booth you and Adrian had crammed into earlier tonight. 

You stare down at your double CoronaRita, debating for a second pulling the overturned bottle of corona light out to watch it overflow. You don’t, because unlike Chris and Adrian, you don’t follow your impulses and intrusive thoughts. No, instead you sip long and hard from the straw and watch as the clear beer bottle starts to drain into the rest of the double margarita. Adrian similarly finds focus in his whisky sour with extra cherries. 

You were going to ask Economos for a ride home, your apartment being on the way back into town for his house.  Now? You were either going to end up having a sleepover with the man you had a stupid teenage crush on, or you were going to call an uber during the saturday night surge and end up paying thirty dollars just to go home and masturbate and not sleep like usual. 

A low whistle breaks your thoughts of calling an uber.

“I guess they either want us to hook up or call expensive ubers?” Adrian nails it on the head. 

“I think thats what they’re going for,” You also conclude. 

You love how Adrian isn’t afraid to call out the obvious, unless of course, he’s calling you out, which his lack of social cues definitely make that a valid option. 

“I mean,” he laughs, “Thats crazy, right?” 

“Yeah… crazy.”

Its awkward as you deliberate the uber, and then eventually call it as you both count down and finish chugging your drinks at the same time.

You’re quiet during the uber, which only went to your house because its the easier one to get to from the this part of Evergreen. Adrian’s eyes are on you as the streetlights pass, and you shrink under his gaze, smiling almost shyly in contrast to how you acted earlier tonight. 

“This okay? We can have a sleepover like in high school!” He sounds excited, but the entire idea makes you queasy. Back when you were fucking around in high school, you didn’t know what love was. You didn’t know what kind of feelings were out there, or the depth of what you could feel for Adrian now. 

The uber driver barely grunts in response as you thank him for the ride, and starts to speed off from you apartment complex before you barely have your purse out of the back seat. 

“Mi casa?” you ask.

“Is su casa?” Adrian responds, and it really does feel like deja vu. 

“Exactly.”

You push the key through the lock easily, and toss them and your purse towards the table to the side of your doorway as you and Adrian enter your dark apartment. 

“You know, you really should leave a light on. I mean, if a burglar wants to burgle this place they only have to look for the apartments that look like no ones home.”

“Is burgle really the word?”

“Do you care? Or do you want to get burgled?”

You stand corrected. 

“I’ll leave a light on next time.”

“I’ll watch your place if I’m on patrol.”

Your face heats up at that offer, you could handle your own, but the thought of Adrian taking special attention to you and your safety… fuck.

You turn to face him, and he’s… wow, entirely too close to just be friendly. You can practically feel his breath on your face as he towers over you. But, Adrian’s presence is never overwhelming or intimidating. He feels safe, like home, like a warm blanket. 

“I think they were right, y/n,” he says, lowly like a whisper. 

“What do you mean?” you ask even though you know exactly what he’s talking about. 

“About hooking up! Duh. We totally should.”

Your smile falters at this point. You place your hands gently, one on his pectoral and the other on his shoulder. You can practically feel his shoulders tense up, ready for rejection.

“If we hook up, I’m not going to want just that.”

His brows furrow, confused. 

“What does that mean?”

“If I take you into my bedroom right now,” you emphasize by nodding behind you at your open bedroom door, “I’m not going to want to let you leave. I-“

“Oh my god, do you like me?” he cuts you off, all smiles and no volume control.

All you can do is meekly nod, metaphorically handing him your heart to either hold very nicely or to beat with a golf club. 

“You do! Oh my god. I knew it. No, I didn’t. I hoped! Oh I’m not letting you go.”

He pulls you into the biggest kiss, and everything you’ve been missing for the past decade falls into place. 

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase imagine

[evergreemoonbeam]

Sanity has left the body today, she hung a sign back in 15 minuets, but I know she is tired, so I don’t believe it

My anxiety is fighting depression

Happiness is nipping at the heals of self-sabotage with a butcher knife again

Created by two beings who bred me out of hate, and their power struggle persists inside to this day

I do not blame her for needing to escape,

This place, that is a combination of organized chaos, intrusive thoughts & artist filled ramblings

It can be overwhelming

Especially in days like today where the voices are arguing

Each committed to captain this vessel though the ship is sinking

Most days inside this mind of mine the conversation is sparkling

Others, well it’s good to have an exit strategy

Evergreen Rose

11112023  

 

#original poem #poetry #my poem #writers and poets #spotify #over 30 #writblr

[cheesydelphox]

Ummm... Hi.

So on Fairy Tail: what are your thoughts on the dragon slayers? Not anything in specific. Can be the ogs and the completely bonkers time travel shenanigans, second gen and how in the world that technology popped up and for how long, whatever you want to share.

Umm...feel free to ask my on my head canons too.

I LOVE thinking about dragon slayers. They're fascinating to me. Specifically the concept of the motion sickness being a dragon slayer thing. Here's how I like to think of it;

The dragon slayers all have some sort of animalistic vibe to them, some less, some more. But the fact that they're essentially dragons in human bodies makes it funky when they come across something that a dragon wouldn't normally interact with, like a moving vehicle. My theory is that their human brains and their dragon bodies get mixed up, their human brains know that vehicles are normal and safe, while their dragon bodies are confused and scared as to why the ground is moving underneath them. The same happens to my dog in the car, but he doesn't know what a car is.

Individual dragon slayers? I have thoughts on them.

Natsu- He's actually my least favorite of the slayers, which is a controversial opinion. Not to say I don't like Natsu, I just like all of the others more than him. My favorite running gag that involves him is the one where he goes all "NINJA," it's really silly. I wish we got to see him playing straight man more, I'm kind of tired of Natsu being the butt of the joke all the time. (i also think lucy can do a bit better but that's a conversation for another day)

Gajeel- I like Gajeel a lot, and I really like his relationship with Levy, it feels the most realistic out of all the Big 4 ships. Gajeel feels the most like a normal person out of all the dragon slayers to me. He's an adult that has his shit together and I find that FASCINATING in the context of the FT series because there's not many characters that check the boxes of "adult" and "consistently has their shit together" when it comes down to it.

Wendy- I honestly have no feelings on Wendy. She's nice, but I don't spend a lot of time thinking about her. One thing I love though is how close she is with Erza. A lot of people make the mother-daughter relationship comparison with them, but to me they seem more like sisters. I would also like to say on the record that Carla is my second favorite Exceed. Don't get why so many people hate Carla.

Laxus- Second favorite slayer. I LOVE Laxus so much. His characterization in 100YQ feels like "Erza and Lucy's older brother" which is something I really appreciate. I wish we got to see him interact with the Thunder Legion in a way that wasn't him "protecting or avenging them" Because the Thunder Legion is STRONG and I wish Laxus talked about his cool strong hot friends more. Also like... we don't get a ton of them interacting as friends. Like, for example, Freed and Bix starting a stupid arguement over nothing and Laxus being confused as to why the hell they're arguing. Or Evergreen having some sort of relationship issues and Laxus being lost as to what to do. That kind of thing. We don't get that enough. Also I just think Laxus is kinda sexy and cool and I Like him a lot. One thing I see a lot in regards to Laxus is how the lacrima was inserted. People think the eye scar is from the lacrima insertion but I just don't agree. When he was fighting Kirin, the lacrima came from his chest. How did it end up there if it was inserted via the eye. I think the dragon slayer just eat the lacrima tbh. It makes more sense because they eat all other forms of magic power. Also a lot less disturbing to think about than "intrusive surgery on a child"

Sting- I've never been like an avid Sting fan, and the more I think about him, the more I'm confused. What defines "light" magic? How do his innate dragon slayer magic ability and the lacrima interact? Do they magnify his power or just make it easier to access? Many questions. I feel like if Sting was given more time in 100YQ he could become one of the stronger slayers. There's light everywhere and if he eats light to gain magic power, that's just like unlimited magic power. Right???? Another thing I find interesting is how he handled Lector's "death." His reaction wasn't as drastic as Future Rogues's reaction to Frosch's death. If anything, the Sabertooth master (i forget his name ooops) had it coming. Everything points to him being abusive and cruel to his guild in the past. I don't blame Sting for snapping. side note. nothing about Sting indicates that he's anything other than bisexual.

Rogue- I never found Rogue to be particularly interesting up until a few weeks ago, when I realized that out of the Twin Dragons, he's actually the weird one. Like I said, Sting didn't have an abhorrent world ending reaction to his exceed "dying." Rogue did. The boy's a ticking time bomb. The moment something goes wrong, BOOM. He's summoning a dragon army to destroy the world. Unstable as all hell. Rogue's a softie at heart though, and I've come to appreciate his bond with Frosch and hold it near and dear.

Cobra- My favorite of the slayers. There's just something about this strange gender ambiguous anti-hero snake person that fascinates me. I didn't think about her much on my first watch though the series in like 2020 but once I started getting back into it this fall I realized "holy shit I LOVE the Snake She/He/They." I already posted about how I identify with Cobra a lot but I'll say it again. Auditory sensory issues? Check. Kind of an outcast? Check. Affinity/overall association with animals? Check. There's more I could add to the list of course, but those are the main things. I really like how his relationship with Kinana was almost like an easter egg, a treat for people who watched the Key to the Starry Heavens arc. Doesn't impact anything at all story wise, but it's a nice little thing that I can hold on to. I have a feeling that Cobra is gonna show up in the next few arcs in 100YQ along with Sting and Rogue, since it's a very dragon-focused series. In an ideal world, they would have some sort of petty banter with Mest. I just think they would be good friends in a "this is my idiot" way. You get to decide who's the idiot.

So yeah. Long post but it's fun to write these. If you read all the way through, good job! You get a cookie. 🍪

#dragon slayers #fairy tail #cobra fairy tail #laxus dreyar #thunder legion #erik cobra #anime #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #wendy marvell #natsu dragneel #fairy tail gajeel #gajeel x levy #fraxus #kinana #twin dragons

[jemmahazelnut]

Let’s go home

Summary: It’s Lucy’s awards party and she just wants to know what Freed honestly thinks about her book. [Canon]

Link: AO3

Notes: Last fanfiction for the Fraxus Week. Prompt: Reimagine a canon scene

This is short and vague, but I hope you like it :)

Let’s go home

Lucy really wanted to ask Freed if he had read her book and what he thought if he had, but it seemed bad to ask such a question. Especially since Freed didn’t have to read it, and Lucy was pretty sure if he read it, he would tell him about it. Instead, Freed simply congratulated her on winning the award.

Which was fine, really, and Lucy was happy to have won that award - she still struggled to believe it - but there were some people she cared about their opinion the most. She couldn’t say exactly why, and obviously she was glad to know that people had enjoyed reading it, but having the opinion of critics or Levy and Freed made her feel prouder.

“Do you have to ask me something?” Freed asked. He was sitting next to her for a while, eyes turned to Bickslow and Evergreen, as he brought a glass of wine to his lips.

“Uh, well,” Lucy began, but she suddenly felt shy. Maybe Freed didn’t say anything about her book because he didn’t actually read it or didn’t like it. It was probably his way of being polite. “Are Evergreen and Elfman a couple?”

Freed frowned and turned to her, his expression slightly confused.

“What?”

“I know it’s none of my business, but they act like an old married couple,” Lucy smiled, deciding for the moment to drop the book topic.

“Actually, you’re right,” Freed commented, glancing at the sorceress, who was squeezing Elfman’s arm and saying something - probably scolding him. “And yes, they are a couple, officially,” he said. Lucy wasn’t surprised and looked at them softly, with a little envy in her eyes.

“I’m really happy for them, they seem to be good together.”

“Yes, although they’d be better off if Evergreen wouldn’t pretend she didn’t care,” Freed laughed a bit, and then glanced at her. “Are you trying to find gossip about anyone? I heard you talk about Gray and Juvia before.”

Lucy blushed slightly but didn’t lie.

“I’m just curious, and it’s fun to tease Gray when he gets embarrassed,” she admitted with an amused, mischievous grin, and Freed had nothing to argue. Lucy let her gaze sweep the room. “And maybe I’m a little in love with the idea of love, seeing it in other people is beautiful, especially if they deserve it and if they have struggled to find the person they love,” she said, her eyes fixed on Erza. She was thinking about her and Jellal, and she was pretty convinced that Freed had understood this too, though perhaps he didn’t know the details of their story.

“Mh, I can’t sympathize, honestly, I’m not interested in what other people do,” Freed shrugged.

“Liar” Lucy smiled and Freed frowned slightly. Lucy hastened to explain. “You are interested in Evergreen and Elfman.”

“It’s different, Ever is my friend,” Freed said. “I’m not particularly interested in Gray, Erza, Gajeel or Levy. I’m happy for them, but nothing more.”

“Mh, I’ll believe you” Lucy said and she looked at Laxus, who was talking to Cana, complaining about the alcohol that the brunette had spilled on him. “What about Laxus?” she asked after a while.

Freed frowned. “What do you mean?”

“There are a lot of rumors about him,” Lucy explained. “I heard that he has dated Mirajane, even though some think he has an affair with Cana, others say that something could be born between him and Lisanna,” she said thoughtfully. Freed blinked for a while but said nothing, and Lucy looked at him curiously. “Do you know something? You’re his best friend, if anyone knows anything, sure it’s you,” she said with conviction. Perhaps it was the alcohol that gave her the courage to ask those intrusive questions.

“Actually, I have no idea,” Freed said and Lucy looked at him in surprise. “Laxus doesn’t really talk about these things, but he didn’t seem interested in anyone,” he admitted, and sounded sincere. Lucy couldn’t be sure, she knew Freed wouldn’t betray Laxus’ trust if the Dragon Slayer wanted to keep any relationship private, but at that moment the alcohol made him more expressive than usual.

“Anyway, I think he will need a change of clothes. I’m going to help him” Freed sighed and Lucy let him go, seeing that Laxus seemed very nervous about the alcohol that Cana had spilled on him. The girl seemed just amused by that, and Lucy hurried to approach her friend before Laxus started yelling at her.

She dragged Cana away as Freed and Laxus headed for the bathrooms, and Cana immediately took another bottle.

“Lucy, you have to drink! It’s your party!”

“I’ve already had a drink,” Lucy said.

“Not enough,” Cana said, pouring the wine into two glasses, and Lucy decided to indulge. After all, it really was her party, she could afford it. Anyway, Natsu would have taken her home. It was the least he could do after the chaos he had created. By the way, where was Natsu?

Lucy looked for him, and while she sought him, she continued to drink. When she found him, the boy was fighting, but she laughed instead of scolding him, because honestly it was quite funny to see Natsu move over the table, especially next to Gray in boxers. Honestly, they were ridiculous.

“Lucy, are you okay?” Natsu asked and she nodded as she poured herself another glass of wine. She spilled some of it out of her and blamed Cana, who was laughing next to her.

“This is the Lucy I wanna see!” the girl exclaimed, dragging her to dance, and Lucy followed her, feeling lighter, and even more cheerful. She spent the evening moving among the various guildmates, dancing with them and laughing at their jokes, listening to gossip and drinking, until she tipped over against a chair. At that point, she understood that perhaps she had drunk too much, and that a little air would be good.

She got up hoping that no one had seen her and went out into the garden. She walked over to a bench, but before reaching it and sitting down, she heard voices and stopped looking around her. Only after a few seconds was she able to identify who they were and what they were talking about. Lucy wouldn’t normally have spied on other people’s conversations, but she was the topic of the conversation!

“Were you talking to Lucy about her book?” she heard Laxus’ voice, and Lucy saw the outline of his body sitting on a bench, one arm stretched behind Freed’s shoulders.

“Should I have?”

“Well, you’ve been telling me about that book for a whole week, forcing me to read it.”

Lucy blushed slightly. Had Freed really done it? So, he liked it, right?

“I knew you’d like it, and honestly it’s a lot better than any of the books you usually buy,” Freed said, and Lucy saw Laxus give the rune wizard a gentle nudge. “Don’t do this, I think I might throw up.”

Laxus let out a low laugh, and Lucy was a little surprised. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Laxus laugh before.

“Maybe you deserve it, since you criticize my tastes.”

“Yeah, but then you’ll have to take me home,” Freed said.

“I’d leave you here.”

“Cruel,” Freed commented coldly and Lucy heard Laxus laugh again.

“So, if you haven’t done a very long monologue on why that book is wonderful,” Laxus began and Lucy felt the pride flood her body at those words. “What were you talking about?”

Lucy saw Freed move, but she couldn’t understand what he was doing, because it was dark.

“Gossiping.”

“Were you gossiping? Seriously?” Laxus asked with obvious surprise and... amusement? Yes, it looked like he was making fun of Freed. It was similar to the tone Laxus used when he wanted to make fun of Natsu about something.

“In fact, she was gossiping. I just listened,” Freed said and shrugged. “We talked about you too,” he added later.

“About me?”

“Yes, some gossip about you. You know, you go out with Mira, Cana and Lisanna,” Freed said.

Laxus didn’t answer and Lucy held her breath, hoping they wouldn’t notice her presence and, above all, hoping Laxus wouldn’t get mad at her for the gossip. Not that he had any reason, she wasn’t the one who gave birth to those rumors.

“You know these rumors aren’t real,” Laxus said after a while in a low voice, and curious Lucy pushed forward to hear better.

“Of course I know,” Freed said.

There was another moment of silence and Lucy heard a rustle and saw that Laxus was moving towards Freed, perhaps wrapping an arm around his back.

“And, Freed,” Laxus added in an even lower voice, so much so that Lucy took a while to understand him.

“Mh?”

Laxus said something, but it was such a low whisper that Lucy didn’t understand it. She could only see Laxus’ head closer to Freed’s, and the arm that had previously rested on the bench was now wrapped around Freed’s back, perhaps pulling him more towards his body.

“Yes, I know.” Lucy heard Freed say, and she leaned forward to understand what they were talking about. “Me too.”

Laxus said nothing, and Lucy just wished she had Natsu’s hearing at that moment, because she didn’t understand what they were talking about and her curiosity was growing. Until she saw Laxus put his lips on Freed’s forehead.

“Let’s go home?” the Dragon Slayer asked and Freed replied softly.

“Yes, let’s go home.”

When they stood up, they were close enough that their shoulders were touching, and they said something in a low voice, something that was perhaps too intimate to be heard by prying ears, but that Lucy still wanted to know. And when they walked away, Lucy swore she saw their hands joined.

#fraxus #fraxus week 2022 #freed justine #laxus dreyar #fairy tail #fanfiction

[absensia-archived]

THE CORPSE SHE STRADDLED LISTENED PATIENTLY BUT NOT INTRUSIVELY TO THE CONVERSATION. IT LISTENED AS IF IT KNEW THAT A PROPER BURIAL WOULD COME, BY AND BY, AS SOON AS THE WOMAN, ITS MAKER, WAS FINISHED WITH HER BUSINESS CALL. THE WICKED, TRULY, NEVER RESTED. THE BUZZ OF SERAPHINA'S VOICE HOVERED LIKE AN INSECT BY CHARLOTTE'S EAR. IMPATIENT. INCONSIDERATE. THIS TIME OF YEAR, IT WAS TOO COLD FOR BUGS TO STILL BE AROUND. AND ALIVE. YET TO CALL THE OTHER WOMAN A BUG WOULD BE AN UNDUE INACCURACY. A MEANS TO AN END, THEN. AND REALLY, THE ONLY END THAT MATTERED: SURVIVAL.

I have something for you to do tonight. Where are you? Hard and a little bit harsh, was the way she breathed, hissing white clouds past teeth, catching her breath a huff at a time. Over the static and disconnected reality of their phone - line, it sounded more like sighs and dying breaths as the agent turned over answers in her mind. As per usual, there were too many. IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE. ON TOP OF A CORPSE. ACTUALLY, SERAPHINA, FUNNY THING! I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE I AM RIGHT NOW. because the only person who had any idea where this specific forsaken spit of wood, dirt, and shadow could be found was the laying dead beneath her weight. it looked up at her with eyes the ugliest shade of dull green she'd ever seen. charlotte passed a gloved hand over the corpse's face, closing its eyelids none too gently.

" Where do you need me to be? " It was typical of the agent to answer this way: practical yet evasive, both obscurity and objectivity intact in a single line. It wasn't as if the butcher herself was going to come and fetch Charlotte herself, not when the best Charlotte could do to report on her location was offer some poor descriptions of the nearby common evergreens, the angle of the moon, and the distance she felt it had taken the now - dead man to drive her out here in hopes of placing her, as close to dead as possible, in the deep grave gaping some yards to her right side now. even the quality of the dirt, though freshly dug, was too common to discern by eye alone.

As the buzzing promptly resumed, Charlotte canted her head and raised her shoulder as to keep the phone pressed to her ear. Her hands, bruised and battered as they were, began to busy themselves once again. Her work here wasn't done and with her needing to be elsewhere sometime tonight, she had better start multi - tasking.

THE NIGHT WAS NO LONGER YOUNG.

Charlotte pushed herself off the body, and as she was brushing the dirt off herself, took a closer look at the body. Clearly, it'd been in a fight. Lacerations ribboned about the skin of the hands, arms, and neck. An isolated wound on the cheek, under the eye, where a vicious thumbnail had dug in. But otherwise, the body was still in shape. DEATH BY ASPHYXIATION. hard on the murderer, but cleaner than most other means of dispatch. Charlotte considered where the body lay, the grave beside her, and the truck that sat quietly in the tree line, shrubs and bushes crushed beneath its tires. The plan had been to bury the man in the same grave he'd prepared for her. A quick glance at the hole told her that it was large enough to hold him. In fact, he had dug the hole so deep, Charlotte had no doubts that it could've housed several bodies if necessary.

He had certainly wanted to bury her deep. She supposed that was how badly she'd scared him. But burial took time. Time she no longer had. Leaving him there in the open was absolutely out of the question and so, that left her with one last option.

" Yeah, I'll be there. Can't say what time, but considered it done. And hey --- " Snapping of twigs and the rustle of dying leaves scrapped the thread of a connection between them as Charlotte opened the truck door and started it up. Her voice struggled past the earthly obstacles, like a woman speaking up and out of a literal grave. " You want another body? I got one, but it'll cost you on top of what you need me for tonight. Least you could do, given the short notice. " And the risk, but that was a given. Transporting a dead body meant risking getting caught with a dead body. The least Seraphina could do was make it worth the risk and time. . . " What d'you say? " /// @saintvampe, CONTINUED FROM HERE

#saintvampe #in. #let's get this bread? #char being too tired to bury this guy and asking sera to cut him up n sell him instead #creative problem solving blah blah blah