#there will be taglists for these stories

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part four)

(part one)(part two)(part three)

Eddie wakes from a thankfully dreamless sleep, his head on his pillow now, which is somehow far less comfortable than Steve’s solid chest. Speaking of… Eddie looks around; Steve isn’t there at all anymore, and Eddie is alone. He’s disappointed, though not entirely surprised, that Harrington’s left him again despite his promises. 

In fact, he’s honestly more surprised when less than two minutes into his wallowing in the empty room, the door is pushed open by none other than Steve Harrington carrying two trays of food, one balanced on each hand like a goddamn waiter. It’s kind of adorable, actually, Eddie thinks, and that thought surprises him a little too. 

“Oh, you’re awake! Good morning.” Steve sets one of the trays on Eddie’s lap. His smile is bright, though there’s a slight, uncertain wobble to it. “Shitty hospital food and shitty hospital TV, right?” 

“Right.” Eddie’s face breaks into a grin, something light unfurling in his chest. He glances at the plate of gross food on his lap then back up at Steve, and he admits, “You know, for a second there I thought you’d left again.” 

Steve shakes his head as he settles into the chair beside the bed with his own tray. “I promised you I’d hang out today. I’m a man of my word.”

“Good.” Eddie smiles and grabs a remote off the bedside table, turning on the TV. “Now for our mealtime entertainment, let’s see what’s on the shitty TV today.”

The television starts blaring some old black-and-white rerun of I Love Lucy. Eddie’s immediately about to change the channel, but then he notices the way Steve’s eyes have lit up. “Hey, that’s not shitty TV!” Steve says. “I used to watch this with my mom all the time when I was a kid.” 

Eddie snorts. “Of course you did.”  

Steve gives him an indignant look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” Eddie shakes his head evasively, shoveling a forkful of rubbery scrambled eggs into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything else. 

Steve just rolls his eyes, almost affectionately, like they’ve had conversations like this before. He chews on a flimsy piece of bacon and makes a face, nose scrunching up. “Ugh, you really weren’t kidding about the shitty food, though.” 

“Nope,” Eddie laughs, “I really wasn’t. Thanks for catering it though.” He swallows down another mouthful of food, and then adds with a little less levity, “And, uh, thanks for last night, too - for calming me down. Don’t think I’ve said that yet.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Steve gives a small smile, shrug, slight shake of his head, a tiny pinch between his brows like he doesn't quite get why Eddie even feels the need to thank him for that. “That's what I’m here for. I just hope I didn't cross any boundaries or anything, holding onto you like that.” 

Now it's Eddie's turn to give him a confused little smile and a head shake. “No, of course not. That was exactly what I needed.” He attempts to add some humor back into the conversation, jokingly quips, “Although, to be fair, I never did think that King Steve would ever be caught dead in a bed with The Freak.”

Steve had hazarded another bite of his breakfast, trying the eggs this time, only to choke on it at Eddie’s comment. He coughs, hits his fist against his chest, and hurriedly takes a sip from the water bottle on his tray. 

“Jesus.” Eddie tries not to take offense, assuming Steve’s reaction to be one of disgust at the double entendre. “That bad of a thought, huh?” 

Steve shakes his head and clears his throat, face flushed. “No, no, it’s not that, man. Food just went down the wrong pipe, is all.” 

“Uh huh…” 

“Seriously.” Steve gulps down some more water, quiet for a moment before adding, “You know I’m not King Steve anymore, right? Haven’t been for a while now, since even long before your memories end.” 

“Yeah, I know. You ditched Tommy H. and Carol your junior year, and then Nancy Wheeler dumped you and Billy Hargrove stole your crown and bashed your face in your senior year, I remember,” Eddie recalls. “But for the most part you were still well-known and well-liked, still this popular, pretty, rich boy jock all the girls still drooled over, so.” He shrugs. “Always figured ‘King’ still fit.” 

“Right…” Steve raises his eyebrows as Eddie lists off these events of his life, looking at him with a smirk of barely-hidden amusement. “I forgot you were obsessed with me.”  

Eddie’s jaw drops in exaggerated offense. “I was not obsessed with you.” 

“Were too,” Steve taunts.

“Was not.” 

“Were too.” 

“Was not.” Eddie chucks a piece of bacon at him. 

Steve gasps indignantly as the bacon slaps him in the face and tumbles onto his lap. “You child!” But he’s laughing, retaliates by flinging a forkful of eggs back at Eddie. 

The conversation devolves into a full-on food fight, shrieking and cackling as they pelt each other with flying bits of eggs and bacon. It turns out shitty hospital food serves far better as ammunition than it does as anything actually edible. 

A nurse chooses the exact wrong time to decide to come in and check on Eddie, walking into the room at just the right moment to be caught in the crossfire and hit with a stray chunk of egg. Both boys freeze. 

“Uh oh…” Eddie mutters under his breath. Just his luck - it’s not the young, nice nurse, Katie, who always laughs at his jokes, but Nurse Margaret, the old, mean one who he’s never once seen crack a smile. She flicks the egg bit off her shoulder, leveling them with a stern frown as she marches over. 

Eddie casts a furtive glance at Steve who looks back at him, lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh again, and Eddie feels mirth bubbling back up in his own chest too. He has to look away from Steve again before he loses it. 

He sucks his lips in, clamping them together between his teeth to hold in his laughter, and he stares up at Margaret with a thin-lipped, guilty, upside down smile as she chides them both for making a mess and scolds Eddie for exerting himself and risking reopening his wounds. Steve mumbles an apology and starts cleaning up the scattered bits of food strewn about the room while Margaret double checks that Eddie hasn’t, in fact, reopened his wounds or gotten worse in any way. Once the nurse is satisfied with both the state of the room and the state of Eddie, she whisks away what’s left of their food trays and stalks out of the room with one last disapproving look over her shoulder.

Then and only then does Eddie risk eye-contact with Steve again, and the two of them immediately burst back into laughter. Steve nearly doubles over with it, leaning against the trash can where he’d just been dusting off his hands. “Oh my god,” he chuckles out. “Her face when I hit her with that egg? I was so sure she was gonna kick me out.” 

“Nearly gave mean old Margaret an aneurysm, and that was just from hitting her shoulder,” Eddie snickers. “Imagine if you hit her in the eye or something.” 

Steve does his best impression of Margaret’s angry scowl and reproachful huff, and Eddie cackles. He laughs so hard his sides ache and his injuries hurt, wounds aggravated by the movement of his laughter, but he doesn’t care, the pain far too distant beneath the cushion of painkillers and positive emotion he currently feels so high on. 

“You’ve still got some egg in your hair,” Steve notices with another amused snort as he pushes himself away from the trash can and approaches Eddie’s bed again. He plucks the offending bit of food out of Eddie’s curls and smooths down the hair where it had been stuck. “There.” 

Steve’s fingertips brush ever so lightly against Eddie’s cheek when he fixes his hair. It sends a pleasant sort of shiver down Eddie’s spine, turning his laughter to breathless giggles just for a moment. “Thanks.”

Steve flicks the egg chunk into the trash before sinking back into the bedside chair with a soft sigh and a warm smile. “God, I missed this,” he says, “just laughing with you.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie returns the grin. For him, of course, this is the first time they’ve laughed together like this, but he has to admit he’s already rather fond of it. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed that hard.”

Steve’s smile turns nostalgic, like he can remember the last time Eddie laughed like that, like he was there for it. “It’s a good look on you - laughter,” he says, so quietly Eddie almost feels like maybe it wasn’t meant for him to hear. And Eddie can’t help but think that laughter is a pretty good look on Steve too, all rosy cheeks and shining eyes.

“How did we become friends?” Eddie asks, before his previous thought can take any sort of root. 

The nostalgia in Steve’s expression only grows. “It was the beginning of June, start of summer, probably only a few weeks after your memories stop. I was working at the Scoops Ahoy in Starcourt, that new mall that had just opened, and you wandered in,” he says, looking at Eddie with a teasing glint to his eyes, “because you were obsessed with me-”

“Was not,” Eddie protests immediately.

“Were too,” Steve laughs. “Anyways, you saw me in my stupid little sailor uniform trying and very obviously failing to chat up a girl at the counter, and you came in just to laugh at me, actually.” 

“Okay, that does sound like me,” Eddie concedes with a grin. He probably walked in there just for the sailor costume alone, if he’s being honest with himself. That’s something he’d kill to see - just for a good laugh, of course. “Do you still have that uniform? It might, you know, jog my memory a little if you were to bring it in one day,” he suggests slyly. 

“You and that uniform, man,” Steve scoffs and shakes his head like this is something they’ve talked about many, many times before, enough for it to become a predictable sort of annoyance, a longsuffering inside joke. “No, I don’t still have it. Threw it out first chance I had, not to mention it got totally ruined when the- uh, when the mall burned down.” 

Eddie’s eyes go slightly wide. “The mall burned down? While you were there?” 

“Yeah- well, sort of,” Steve falters, a shadow falling over his expression, and he shakes his head again. “It’s kind of a long story, and not the one I’m telling right now.” 

“Right, yeah, shit.” Eddie waves his hand as if to erase everything he’d said before. “Forget I mentioned it.” He, more than anyone, understands not wanting to relive bad memories right now. “Continue the other story. How did we go from me making fun of you to us being besties?”

The shadow lifts as Steve returns to that memory. “Oh, yeah. I told you the show wasn’t free and that you needed to order something or leave. So you bought a milkshake, which I somehow managed to end up completely spilling all over the both of us when I tried to hand it to you. You were livid,” he chuckles, “thought I’d done it on purpose, even though I definitely hadn’t. I felt so bad I insisted on helping you clean up. You were icy about it, but you let me show you to the sink in the backroom and accepted the jacket I lent you so you wouldn’t have to walk around with ice cream stains on your shirt all day.” 

“That’s quite the meet-cute,” Eddie jokes. “Are you sure you’re describing our friendship and not some rom-com chick flick you watched last week?” 

“Nah, true story, honest. It wasn’t a rom-com,” Steve says, and though he smiles, there’s an odd sadness to it too. He shakes his head and continues, “Anyways, you clearly warmed up to me after that because you came back the next day to return the jacket and apologize for being a bit of a dick before, and then you gave me this whole ‘you’re actually a good dude’ speech and told me to give you a call if I ever wanted to split a joint or something. I took you up on it that same night; it had been a rough day at work and I figured why not, so I came over and we smoked and we talked and we got along like a house on fire - better than either of us expected, I think. And that was our thing, then, after that - smoking and talking. Sometimes weed, sometimes just cigarettes, and sometimes we just smoked and didn’t talk, and then sometimes we just talked and didn’t smoke; until eventually we started doing other things together too besides just talking and smoking, we were just hanging out. At that point we were friends, practically inseparable, and then we-” Steve stops himself, a shade of melancholy reentering his dim smile once more. “We only got closer from there.” 

“That sounds nice…” Eddie tries to remember it, really digs deep in his mind for any sort of spark of memory or recognition in Steve’s words, but it’s empty. It all just sounds like a story to him, doesn’t settle anywhere real. It’s a good story, sure, one he’d like to experience, one he aches to connect with, but a story nonetheless, only words, only fiction. “I wish I could remember that.” 

“Me too,” Steve says, and Eddie hates how sad he looks, hates even more that he’s the cause of it. 

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make new memories, then!” Eddie declares with a theatrical amount of enthusiasm as he flashes Steve a bright grin, all in the hopes of chasing that sadness back off of his face. “Won’t we, my friend?” 

Success; Steve seems a little startled by Eddie’s sudden gusto, but he laughs and smiles, the real kind this time that shines in his eyes again. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

Eddie does his best to keep the conversation away from their past after that, not only in an attempt to keep the light in Steve’s expression but for his own sake too. It’s a strange thing to be reminded of the fact that he shares a history with someone and has no memory of it, to be around someone who seems to know everything about him while he feels as though they’ve only just met.

For the most part, hanging out with Steve is nice and fun and easy - there’s something so natural, familiar, about the way they talk, the way they banter, the way they sit together even in the silences. But sometimes Eddie will say something that makes a sadness flicker in Steve’s eyes again, or sometimes Steve will say something that makes Eddie wonder just what secrets this guy knows about him and his skin crawls with that old discomfited itch. They’re both quick with a joke, a redirection, whenever the other’s expression falters, though, like Steve is trying to make sure Eddie doesn’t feel uncomfortable just as much as Eddie is trying to make sure Steve doesn’t feel sad. 

Other visitors come in and out of Eddie’s room that day too: Dustin stops by with a portable cassette player and some newer heavy metal albums that came out during the period Eddie no longer remembers, which brings more than one source of entertainment as it also incurs Nurse Margaret’s wrath again when they listen to it too loud. Wayne drops in with some actually edible fast food for lunch and a deck of cards, playing a few rounds of a few games. Nurse Katie checks in on him to redress his wounds and she laughs at his stories of annoying Margaret. Even Steve has to leave a couple times, says he has errands to run or needs to pick up Robin from work, but he promises to be back each time and each time he is. 

Night has fallen now, and it’s just Eddie and Steve again, Steve sitting, as always, beside Eddie’s bed as they watch whatever cheesy old movie is playing on TV while Eddie fights off sleep. He fears it still; each wave of drowsiness that washes over him is met with a shiver in his heart that breathes ice into his veins and freezes him awake. 

After about Eddie’s hundredth attempt to suppress a yawn, Steve turns off the TV and looks at him. “Are you tired?” 

“No,” Eddie says, only for his lie to be almost immediately undermined by another traitorous yawn. “Alright, yeah, I am, but- I don’t want to sleep,” he admits. “I don’t want to dream.”

“Oh.” Steve’s gaze softens, sympathetic. For the first time unprompted, not waiting for a nightmare or for Eddie to ask like he always had before, Steve moves closer and takes Eddie’s hand. “I’ve got you, you know,” he says, the statement fierce in its sincerity. “It’ll be alright. I’ll fight off your nightmares with my bare hands if I have to.” 

Steve’s hand is warm against the chill in Eddie’s blood, the heat of his skin seeping in to thaw his fear. “I don’t think a nightmare is something you can fight,” Eddie says, cracking a smile, but looking at Steve now, he can almost believe it. 

There’s a new sort of spark in Steve’s eyes, protective, devoted, and it burns the way a fire in the hearth of a home burns, like something dangerous made safe just for him. Eddie suddenly doesn’t doubt, somehow, that Steve could fight off anything, even something as intangible as a nightmare, if it was threatening Eddie. With Steve here holding his hand, he somehow doesn’t doubt that not a single thing can hurt him. Not a single thing would even dare try. 

And not a single thing does. 

No nightmares make their way into Eddie’s mind that night, no bad memories stir in his subconscious. That night, instead, he dreams of Steve.

(part five!) taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list)

#aww look they're bonding #was gonna include eddie's dream at the end but it was just way too long so. that'll be the next part i guess #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic #<- tag to follow for this story for those who didn't make the taglist but still want to follow along <3

[peakyscillian]

Cillian Masterlist

Cillian Requests CLOSED

Please read Warning on my Main Masterlist.

Nearly all of my storys contain smut.

🤍 Requested 🖤 Smut

Cillian : One Shots

Date Night - Boyfriend!Cillian

Birthday Boy - Husband!Cillian Birthday Morning Treat. 🖤

Comfort - It's the end of Peaky Blinders & Cillian is feeling lost.

Magic - The worse period pains of your life so far? Soft!Cillian can help.🤍

Break - Based off writing prompts, Cillian & Y/N break up. 🤍

Unexpected - Everything that's worthwhile comes unexpectedly. 🖤🤍

Away - Cillian is living in Manchester for PB filming & that results in cute Skype calls. 🤍

Practice - Cillian needs help with a tricky scene. 🖤🤍

Hitched - It's your wedding day & Cillian finally gets to see your dress.(R)

Unwrap - Bad day? Cillian can help you. 🖤🤍 Public - Teasing you in public, Cillian ultimate fantasy. 🖤🤍 Heat - It’s too hot to sleep piled together in a bed.

Backseat - Expanded on my NSFW alphabet wild card. 🖤 When I kissed the teacher - Cillian has a fantasy 🖤🤍 Storm - Fluffy!Cillian x Reader. Needy - maybe you’re just a tiny bit needy.🖤🤍 Scars to your beautiful - an Angsty Cillian One Shot🤍 I miss you - Cillian needs to prove he only has eyes for you. 🖤🤍 Surprise - No plot just smut 🖤 Normal - Sometimes Cillian gets to lead a normal life.🖤🤍 Six Months - It's been a long six months for Cillian 🖤🤍 It's My Birthday - Birthday fic for @janelongxox 🖤 Solo - Cillian needs some alone time 🖤

Spice - Twenty years of marriage, maybe things need spicing up. 🖤🤍

Rebel - Cillian is trying to get his teenage daughter to like him again 🖤

Man Like You - Is Reader too young for a man like Cillian? 🖤🤍

Love Affair - Cillian and Reader fell in-love on set, can they keep it a secret on the red carpet.🖤🤍 First - There's a first time for everything.🖤 Fright - Why did you decide to say yes to Cillian when he suggested watching a horror movie? 🖤🤍 Explosive - Sometimes you just can’t wait. 🖤 From The Start - Christmas is the perfect time to tell someone how you’ve felt from the start. 🖤🤍 This Christmas - Starting new traditions this Christmas. Drifting - You and Cillian have been drifting apart lately. Part One | Part Two 🖤🤍 Caught - Mutually checking each other out - can only lead to one thing, right? 🖤🤍 Anxious Darling - Sometimes you just can’t shake the anxiety 🤍

Valentines - Cillian doesn’t believe in Valentines Day, but y/n is determined to make him see sense! 🖤

Easter - Easter with the family. Hungover - The morning after one too many drinks. 🖤🤍 Birthday - Just a filthy one shot for our mans birthday. 🖤

Match - The perfect match.

Babymoon - Cillian just can’t get enough of Y/N being pregnant. 🖤🤍 Daddy's Home - Cillian’s been away filming for months, finally he’s home.🤍 Proposal - Cillian is finally popping the question. 🤍 Sharing - “Because we drank too much last night” 🖤🤍 Part One | Two Medicine - Cillian and family time is the best medicine

Pink - Cillian arrives home early from filming.🖤🤍

Canvas - Reader has an idea, Cillian is definitely on-board.🖤🤍 Merry Christmas, Baby - The christmas party ends with an early christmas gift.🖤

Relax - Cillian knows how to make you relax 🖤🤍 Perfect Valentine - Cillian does something he really doesn’t want to do, so reader gives him something he really likes.🖤🤍 Quickie - A short smutty One Shot 🖤 Award Winning - Cillian actually leaves the house, Cillian’s not winning any awards for his acting but maybe for other things? 🖤

Kiss Me At Midnight - Everyone needs a kiss at midnight 🖤

Cillian : Drabbles

Thighs - Filth from my mind 🖤 Hands - More flith from my mind 🖤 Moving in - A little drabble requested 🖤🤍 Cringe - A drabble 🤍 Back - A little Cillian drabble 🤍 Rain - rainy days in with Cillian & your dogs 🤍 Guest - Wedding Guest Cillian Thirst - Reader introduces Cillian to thirst tweets about him 🖤🤍 Snack - Cillian just wants to eat! 🖤🤍 WAP - Cillian hears that song for the first time 🖤🤍

Morning - Cillian smutty drabble 🖤

Ready - Writing prompt ‘tying your lovers tie’ 🤍 But..what is a dilf? 🤍 Sweethearts - Young Cillian x Reader. 🤍 Selfish - Secretly dating Prompt, for Alex 🤍

Cillian : Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet 🖤 Fluff Alphabet POV: Cillian is your boyfriend this is your camera roll: Part One | Part Two | Part Three 🤍 Memes: Cillian is your boyfriend/husband you send him these memes 🤍

Cillian : Mini-Series/Series

The Date Series : Fem!Reader is set up on a blind date, follow the dates that happen after said blind date. (This will be an on-going series) Masterlist Adored: Cillian Murphy, Movie Star and Sugar Daddy. 🤍 ✨Twenty Five/Twenty Five (Completed) 15.09✨ Masterlist Bend The Rules: Cillian is unhappily married, to someone who doesn’t care about him, surely he can bend the rules? Masterlist ✨Fourteen/Fourteen (Completed) 24.04✨

But a number: Fem!Reader is a young actress but has done a lot with her time in the spotlight, shes also engaged to Cillian Murphy after meeting on set of a movie two years ago, Cillian however is 19 years older than Reader, this mini-series will follow how they handle the age gap, the press and close friends & families. 🖤🤍 ✨Four/Four Completed 17.06✨ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Family Series: One Day - A day on set, Cillian gets thinking. 🖤🤍 Day Off - Part Two of One Day. 🖤🤍 Oh, Baby - Why isn’t giving birth a mans job? ✨Three/Three Completed ✨

Treat you better: You’re cast as Tommy’s new love interest in Peaky Blinders, meaning you have to do all kinds of scenes with Cillian who you know well from the movie/tv circuit, your boyfriend who isn’t supportive is jealous. 🖤 ✨Four/Four Completed✨ One Two Three Four

Cillian : On hold Stories.

Last year: It's the annual Peaky Blinders Cast New Year getaway, but this year Willow would rather not be there. 🖤 ✨ON HOLD 05/04✨ Part One 02/01 Part Two (S) 06/01

What You're Missing: Reader & Cillian have been so busy, spending time together hasn’t happened, Reader needs to show Cillian just what he’s missing over the course of a week.🖤 Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurbs #tommy shelby #tommy shelby blurbs #tommy shelby fiction #my writing #writing #peakys #peaky story #blurbs #masterlist #tommy masterlist #thomas shelby #ts #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x oc #angst #headcanon #taglist #ntmynouis is my main account #smut warning #send requests #anon request #female reader insert #Cillian Murphy Masterlist #Pinned Post #peakyscillian updates

[phoward89]

I just wanted to thank everyone that liked and reblogged my Coriolanus Snow story Forever & Ever, My Darling Rose. If anyone wants on the taglist for upcoming chapters just let me know. Also, the story is cross-posted on Fanfiction.net because a friend of mine that doesn't have Tumblr asked me to post it there with the Coryo x OC format. Also it's cross-posted on AO3 in both formats. So, yea, this is cross-posted.

Anyways, hugs and kisses to you all. A writer loves it when their work is enjoyed. 🥰

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #head gamemaker! coriolanus snow #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow #coryo #thg #coryo snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!fic #taglist #thank you everyone for liking my story #Story is only gonna get darker and more twisted as the chapters add up #politican!Coriolanus Snow #head gamemaker! coriolanus snow x reader #head game maker!coriolanus snow

[ohraicodoll]

Ok LOVE the tommy and red hcs, I need to know how maria and Joel reacted when they found out tommy punched an asshole??

Tommy Miller was not scared of his wife.

But he was fully aware that she might not be the most rational in her current condition. So when he pulled up to his house after leaving Joel and Red's place, he'll admit he hesitated when he saw her standing in their doorway with her hands on her hips. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a finger, mouth pressed together sternly. "Inside," she bit out before turning on her heel. He wondered when being around Red had become the safer option, but swallowed his grimace and walked into their home. The whiskey Joel had given him had made him looser, more warm, and he tried to blame that on the sweat across his brow. When he gave his brother the run down of what had happened at the wood mill, he could see the surprise in his eyes. That Tommy had actually defended the woman and what that meant. Miller boys were known to be protective and it was just as clear as spelling out that Tommy considered her one of theirs. Red had been quiet but not unnervingly so, rolling her eyes at their jokes. Despite Joel being unhappy about what had happened (threatening that if he knew who did it, he was going to make due on Tommy's threat), the man was more pleased. Red was safe, the assholes got what was coming, and Tommy had protected the family. Drinks all around.

The air was still warm, windows slightly cracked to let in a breeze and Tommy wanted nothing more than to lay on the couch and sink into the fuzzy feeling from the alcohol. It felt all in all like a nice, pleasant day if it wasn't for the lighting coming off his wife and his hand starting to sting like a bitch.

Tommy followed Maria to the kitchen and chewed on the corner of his lip, shuffling in place in the silence. She only turned to the freezer and got out an icepack before shoving him into a chair none too gracefully, "You wanna tell me why the hell I had four different people tell me you socked one of the guys down at the mill?"

"Honey-" Maria held up her finger again and Tommy swallowed his platitudes as she aggressively put the icepack on his sore hand, "Don't you try that, Tommy Miller. First I have to worry about Red then Joel and now you're out here hitting people too?" "Those men were being aggressive and harassing her," he spoke up with frustration, "They needed to be told to back off." "Told, Tommy," she interrupted him, "the key word is told. Your fists weren't saying anything." "Well they certainly listened afterwards," he grumbled. She sighed, closing her eyes to take a deep breath, "You can't go punching people, baby. It doesn't look good and it doesn't help when she's involved-" Tommy scoffed, which probably wasn't the greatest move but he wasn't exactly known for being smart, "If it was Ellie or you, I would have done the same thing. She's family, honey. Like it or not. We gotta protect our own and those guys weren't gonna listen to reason-" "And you know that how?" She cocked her hip out with a raised brow, pursed lips, "Did they say that right before you sucker punched them?" "I know the type," he argued. He did. He'd seen it at the bars years before. Hands grabbing at waitress' waists, their hands, pulling and grabbing and their comments. Someone needed to teach them a lesson. Maria sighed, "You Millers and your thick heads." She couldn't help but shake her head and he thanked god for pregnancy mood swings for once. He could see the anger leaving her body completely and he gave her a grin, rubbing his hand on her belly and pulling her close, laughing when the grin became contagious. He had no doubt she'd bring this up later when the mood swung again. But he was in the clear for now and if he kept charming her, maybe she'd see his reasoning. "They're on probation, just so you know," she muttered, letting herself get pulled into the circle of his arms, "We could have just tossed them in the jail for the rest of the day. No more punching people or else I'm gonna throw you in there too. God help me if this baby ends up with all the Miller genes." Tommy grinned, "Yes, ma'am." At least the baby would have a hell of a family watching their back.

#Joel Miller x Feral Reader #Series: feral #Tommy Miller #Raicodoll writes #didn't do the taglist cause this is just a short drabble that doesn't really matter to the story #anon asks #asks

[chrollohearttags]

who wants tags for reverb??

#she’s almost finished #but I’m getting a start on the taglist #musician x influencer au #eren x black fem!reader #aot au #black reader smut #also wanna do a lil q+a for the chapter and story in general #only if y’all want to send asks 🫶🏾 no pressure

[ask-lu-wild]

Be gone sky

#pic #story #checking courage #The Royal Pibling’s Plight #That One Boy that Left Heaven for some Chick #handsome knights #hi I just added pronouns and genders to the links' tags in the taglist #as well as their current ages #remember this is still november 21 in the story #so 2 birthday pepo #if you have any questions about the taglist please send me an ask on author-main

[kitkatd7]

Queen of a Lonely Court

Possible series teaser below :))

I know I've been MIA for literally over a year but I'm back! Got a new phone during college, never re-downloaded Tumblr and forgot😅 anyway, please lmk what you think and if I should continue this story or not! I'm thinking of making it a Loki/Thor pre ragnorok story

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

She sat in her throne room, lounging on the stairs in the absence of her subjects, having no one to poise for. Good. Let them leave, she thought. The silent halls seemed to agree in their peace, undisturbed by bustling maids and couriers, chefs, seamstresses, and courters. To hell with them all. All she ever wanted was peace. If it took a kingdom with a queen as the only soul, so be it. Who said it took a people to rule to be ruler?

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Tags below! Please dm me or send an ask to be added/removed from the taglist. If your name is not tagged I couldn't find you.

Forever tags:

@leahs-reading-nook @saiyanprincessswanie @buckys-other-punk @kind-sober-fullydressed @notwithoutbarnes​ @malloryharris @itsunclebucky @teenagereadersciencenerd @chaotic-fae-queen @bugsbucky-blog1 @imma-new-soul @wonderlandfandomkingdom @fablesrose @coffeebooksandfandom @tom-hlover @rebekahdawkins

Crackheads:

@buckys-other-punk @hermoinesalvatore84 @chaoticpete @cheeky-foxx @babygurlbarnes @msgreenverse @maddeningmentalmess @mmm-tatre-tots @js3639 @peterpanfromlemonland @bonky-and-steeb @c-emma098 @imaspecialpersonwhoneedshelp

#kits writing #kits random stuff #loki x reader #marvel #possible story #queen of a lonely court #teaser #taglist

[kanerallels]

So I told my sister and a couple other people I would post this, and here it is! Just some ponderings about Kanan in the Hera is a Jedi au that turned themselves into a ficlet. Set mid-season one of SWR, and rated G!

Taglist: @firefoxtessa @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @heckin-music-dork @opalknight @cassie-fanfics and I'm also gonna tag @xxxcertifiednerdxxx, solely because you're accidentally the reason I wrote this. Feel free to ignore the tag, though! (also if anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, DM me!)

“What’s Kanan’s job around here, anyways?”

Hera barely glanced up at Ezra’s question as she removed yet another part from her lightsaber, which lay in pieces in front of her on the worktable in her room. “What do you mean?”

Frowning, Ezra said, “Everyone’s got a role, you know? Zeb is the muscle and Chopper’s the homicidal hacker droid, and Sabine’s the explosives expert, and you’re the Jedi and the pilot and the boss all at once. You’re all really talented, you know?”

A smile hovered at the edge of Hera’s mouth as she picked up a miniscule tool and used it to unscrew another part. “Flattering as always, Padawan. Your point being?”

“Kanan doesn’t really have a role,” Ezra said, watching her work. “Hey— couldn’t you use the Force for that?”

“I could,” Hera agreed, removing the part. “But I like to do it this way.” Setting aside her tool, she finally met Ezra’s eyes. “Why does it matter what Kanan’s role is? He’s here to help us fight, and that’s what’s important.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Someone say my name?”

Ezra and Hera glanced up as Kanan stuck his head through the open door, lifting a curious brow. “Ezra wants to know your role in this crew,” Hera said dryly. “Any thoughts?”

“Oh, obviously,” Kanan said. “Professional chef, and eye candy.” He shot a wink at Hera, who rolled her eyes, before turning to Ezra. “But in all seriousness— I’m whatever we need at the moment. That’s where I do my best work. Speaking of best work, how do enchiladas sound for dinner? I found some of those peppers you and Zeb love so much at the market, Captain Hera.”

“That sounds amazing, love,” Hera said, shooting him a smile as he slipped back out and down the hall. After a moment, she directed her gaze back to Ezra. “Does that answer your question?”

“...kind of?”

Chuckling, Hera said, “Well, if you’re still wondering, why not ask the rest of the crew? They might have some good insight. And you could always try meditating on it.”

“I think I’ll talk to the others,” Ezra said hastily, getting to his feet. Hera looked amused, but gave him a nod before returning to her lightsaber maintenance with laser-like focus.

The first crew member he encountered was Chopper, and Ezra knew better than to bother with him. Not that he’d care, anyways, the droid was crazy. Instead, he headed for the lounge, where he found Zeb cleaning his bo-rifle.

The Lasat directed a frown at him— but it wasn’t his real, “why are you near me do you want to suffer” scowl, just his all purpose “I’m pretending to be grumpy cause it makes me look cool” frown. “Thought you were training with Hera.”

“I was,” Ezra said, dropping onto a crate nearby. “But then I asked her a question—”

“You? Ask a question? Color me real surprised.”

“Ha, ha,” Ezra said, scowling at him. “Listen. I asked her what Kanan’s role was on the ship.”

“Really?” Zeb paused in his cleaning and glanced up, interest flashing through his eyes. “What did she say?”

“Why? Wait— do you not know either?”

“‘Course I know. Just curious about what she said.”

“Sure. Well, she said that it wasn’t important, then told me to ask everyone else. Kanan says he’s whatever he needs to be. Well, first he flirted with Hera, then he said that.”

Snorting, Zeb said, “Sounds about right.”

“So what do you think? What’s Kanan’s role?”

The Lasat shrugged, setting aside a cleaning rag. “Dunno. He’s just Kanan.” He glanced up in time to see Ezra’s scowl, and sighed. “Look, kid. You’re taking this too seriously. It’s not really about roles, anyways. It’s about why we’re here.”

“What do you mean?”

Finally, Zeb set down his bo-rifle. “You know, why we’re fighting the Empire.” He paused, his expression turning uncharacteristically somber. “You know why I’m doing it. And Hera’s pretty obvious, more than just the Jedi stuff.”

“She’s passionate about making stuff right,” Ezra guessed. “Well, what about Sabine?”

“What about me?”

Ezra and Zeb both looked up to see Sabine, carrying a handful of paint-covered rags and looked satisfied with herself. “Kid wants to know what Kanan’s role is, why he’s here,” Zeb said, nodding at Ezra. “Then he asked about you.”

“Seriously?” Sabine rolled her eyes. “Tell me you two aren’t this clueless. He’s here for Hera, obviously.”

“Well, I know that,” Ezra said, feeling himself flush slightly as Sabine ducked into the kitchen and returned without the rags. “But, like, does he have another reason? And what’s his job, you know? He’s kinda just some guy, not a Jedi or pilot like Hera, and not a master warrior like Zeb, or an explosive expert like you.”

“True,” Sabine acknowledged. “But not everyone in the Rebellion has to be as amazingly talented as we are. Most of us have a personal problem with the Empire. Could be Kanan does, too. But why does it matter?”

“I… guess it doesn’t,” Ezra said slowly. “It just didn’t make any sense to me that he’s the odd one out, I guess.”

Sabine shook her head impatiently. “You’re putting too much stock in the “everyone needs to be crazy skills” thing, kid. Look, Kanan’s a great shot, and a decent co pilot.”

“Amazing cook, too,” Zeb offered, and Sabine nodded.

“True. But what’s most important is that he has our backs. He looks out for us, in big ways and little ones. He knows what we need and he makes sure we can do our jobs well. We couldn’t do this without him. Got it?”

“I… I do, actually,” Ezra said. “Thanks.”

Kanan announced dinner was ready around an hour later, and the crew gathered in the lounge to eat. Hera took her usual seat, and Ezra dropped onto a crate nearby. “Did you figure out the answer to your question, Padawan?” she asked him, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Setting down his fork, Ezra said, “I did, actually.” He paused, feeling the crew’s eyes on him, but Hera nodded for him to go on. “Your role isn’t an obvious one like Zeb or Hera,” he told Kanan, who was sitting opposite them, his plate balanced on one knee. “You’re here to watch our backs and make sure we’re okay, and take care of us. You’re… kind of the glue that holds us all together. Without you, we wouldn’t have made it this far.” He looked at Hera. “Am I right?”

His master was smiling, first at Ezra, and then at Kanan, who seemed surprised. “You’re absolutely right,” she told him. “Well done, Ezra.”

“Not bad, kid,” Zeb said.

Shrugging, Ezra said, “Hey, Kanan said it first— he’s whatever we need him to be. I think that counts, right?”

Kanan let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Can’t argue there, I guess.” Shooting a wink at Hera, he added, “I still think I count as eye candy, though.”

“Of course you do, dear,” Hera said, rolling her eyes.

#hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger #sabine wren #garazeb orrelios #chopper swr #star wars rebels #swr #hera as the jedi au #kanera #swr fan fic #ezra: *tries to figure out kanan's role in the crew* #ezra: OH WAIT HE'S JUST THE DAD #i mean there's more nuance but that's basically it #DANG it's been a while since i got to use the old taglist. good times #writing stories is a kind of magic too

[artbyeloquent]

GUESS WHAT BITCHES (AFFECTIONATE) WE'RE COOKING WITH GAS!!

Transcript under the cut. Original post/idea.

All bad stories begin with a summoning circle.

That’s what Ramira do Monte had scolded when she caught Vivian in the Directed Study section. 

She puckered her lips like she’d just had a sour draught of potion while her eyes tooled Vivian head to toe. They lingered at the dismal shape of her hair, the dirt beneath her fingernails, and the muck flaking off her boots. 

Finally, her gaze came back to the spellbook clutched in Viv’s ashen hands. Bronzen leather embossed its seams, its title scrawled in Old Xelan. a complex lock which possessed no keyhole clamped its pages shut. 

“Let me see your DS slip,” she puffed, hand extending vexedly. “No professor in their right mind would sign off such a tome to a baccalaureate.”

Viv shoved her fist deep into her robes and produced a crumpled scrap of parchment. Ramira brought it excessively close to her fleshy nose and stared at it long and hard. 

“Professor Lambright?” she said suspiciously. 

“I’m apprenticing his research,” Vivian said, careful not to reply too quickly. 

“I won’t be doing anything unsupervised, Ramira. I mean, c’mon, without a Tombkeeper’s License? Do you really think so lowly of the dear Professor?”

Ramira’s lips pressed so tight they might well fall off. Her folly was and always would be an utter faith in the hierarchy. She thrust the tattered Directed Study slip back into Vivian’s calloused hands.

“You know what they say,” she harrumphed before repeating the immortal words.

It was easy to dismiss at the time. However, keeping the warning out as she traced sigils in goat’s blood was another task altogether. 

She hadn’t lied. Well, not technically. Lambright had asked for the book. He had wanted Vivian to get more hours into her apprenticeship docket. And sure, he’d be pretty pissed if she knew she had followed their lesson by drugging his tea and taking the book for herself.

But what else was she to do? It had been an insane gambit to even convince him a baccalaureate was ready for this kind of training at all, let alone make him think this particular book was his idea. She couldn’t chicken out after all she’d been through.

#sapphic goddess of decay story #to name later rip me #vivian and sarcinia #would you be interested in seeing this updated on ao3? please let me know if so!! and if i should put together a taglist!! #spilled ink #writeblr #writers on tumblr #monster girls #sapphic romance #eldritch x mortal #goddess x mortal

[ssa-sapphic]

Pairing: Emily Prentiss × (POC)fem!oc

Next Chapter: part two

Summary: When the bodies of several women show up all around LA, it's Garcia who aids the team in making the shocking connection that all of the victims look exactly like one of her favorite actresses, Sloan Hudson. Upon making this discovery, the team soon realizes that this famous celebrity might just be the unsub's final target, meaning that she is now in grave danger and needs to be protected. Unfortunately for Emily, her days of being a profiler are soon put on hold when Hotch assigns her to be Sloan’s personal bodyguard.

Warnings: Basically all that an episode of CM consists of. I don't really know what to specifically list, but if you have any additions or specific triggers, please let me know

Word Count: 4.3k

"Fairy Tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." - Neil Gaiman

A bright burst of lightning lit up the empty streets of San Francisco, nearly blinding a young woman who was running through the pouring rain. She had just clocked out of a late night shift at the local diner, and from afar, one could only assume that she was in a hurry to escape the cold rain and get home as quickly as possible. In reality, however, it wasn’t exactly the severe storm that she was trying to run away from at all.

Due to the overly obnoxious thunder—which seemed to echo indefinitely—it completely deafened the heart-wrenching screams that were escaping the young woman’s lips, as she quickly rounded corners and leaped over the puddles in her path. She didn’t dare look back, knowing that it would only slow her down and that the figure in the dark hoodie was more than likely still chasing after her. Besides, she didn’t need to glance at her attacker in order to know who he was. She already knew.

It was him.

The very same man she had seen earlier in the day, watching her closely as she waited on tables. She had felt his eyes on her as she carried plates of food to and from customers, yet, the mysterious man had vanished just when she was about to take his order next. She had thought that he just changed his mind about wanting to eat there. However, it was clear now, that the man hadn’t actually left like she’d originally assumed. Instead, he had waited patiently across the street until her shift was over, opting to watch her through the open window of the diner.

When closing time came around, she waved goodbye to her colleagues like she did every night, before she walked over to the bus stop.

Unfortunately, this night hadn’t ended up like the ones beforehand, where the woman would catch the public transport, find a window seat somewhere in the middle, and plug in her earbuds to provide herself with a little source of tranquility during the lonely ride home. No, this night completely took a turn for the worst, because as she waited at the bus stop, the mysterious man had followed her and took that opportunity to grab her from behind, attempting to shove a rag over her nose and mouth. It had completely surprised the young woman, and she immediately tried to yell out for help, but her sounds of distress were muffled from the piece of cloth covering her face. Within seconds, she had found herself getting lightheaded as the chemicals seeped through her nostrils and infiltrated her lungs.

Thankfully, though, with one last burst of energy she had managed to elbow her attacker in the gut, before fully breaking free from his grasp. She instantly ran in the opposite direction back to the diner, hoping that her colleagues hadn’t all left yet. However, deep down she knew that those odds were slim-to-none.

Her drowned out screams of help soon turned into agonizing cries as she finally arrived back at the restaurant, only to find it completely dark and deserted. Everyone had already locked up the doors and left for the night, meaning that she truly was alone, with no one there to help her. No one there to save her from the hooded figure that was drawing closer with each and every sob that broke past her paling lips. Any hope that was lingering in her chest, had now vanished, leaving her consumed with nothing but anxiety and trepidation. Her limbs trembled as she continued tugging harder and harder on the diner’s doors that just wouldn’t budge. She was locked out of her safe haven, like a sinner locked out of heaven itself.

She knew that she had to move though. She couldn’t continue standing there like waiting bait, she had to keep running. It was the only way to make this nightmare end. She prayed that some convenience store or shop would still be open at this hour where she could find refuge. Then she could borrow their phone, call the police, and finally be rescued from the sick bastard chasing her. It would all be over and she could go back home to where she knew her parents would probably be worrying themselves sick, wondering why she had yet to return.

But unfortunately that wasn’t the case for her, because sadly, the young woman took a wrong turn and was immediately met with a dead end. A dark and closed off alleyway that was ironic for the situation she had found herself in. She’d seen the movies, the crime shows, it never ended well for someone who was trapped in an alleyway after a suspenseful chase. It was definitely not what she had in her plans, but then again, none of this was. She didn’t plan to be stalked and attacked by some psychopath. Does anyone really?

All she knew for certain, was that she didn’t have enough time to turn around and go back the other way. In fact, she knew that she probably didn’t have much time left at all, because he was already drawing near. Whatever luck she had left was slowly dwindling away with each and every second that passed, and it didn’t seem like there was any other way out for her. At that point, she knew that she only had two options:

Surrender, and accept her unknown fate. Or, hide and get ready to defend herself with whatever makeshift weapon she could get her hands on in the junk of the alleyway.

It was now a life or death situation for her, which didn’t take a genius to figure out, and the young woman wasn’t about to give up just yet. At that moment, her initial shock and fear took a back seat, finally allowing her survival instincts to take the wheel. No matter what was to become of her fate, one thing was for certain, she’d be damned if she didn’t go down without a fight.

“Hey!!” JJ whined in protest, her mouth full of buttery popcorn. “Pen, why would you pause it right there? She was just about to kick his ass! ”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Emily gave her a doubtful face. “The guy’s totally gonna kill her.”

JJ looked at her peculiarly, her hand halted in mid-air after pulling out more puffed kernels from the bowl in her lap. “Wait, are you actually rooting for the bad guy here?”

Her question immediately made the brunette return the same look. “Of course not, Jayje.” She deadpanned. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. I mean it’s so predictable. You know what? Garcia hit play, would you? 5 bucks says I’m right.”

“Sorry gal pals, I paused it because this queen needs to take a trip to her privy chamber. Be right back!” The blonde replied, apologetically, before tossing the remote on the coffee table and making a beeline for her restroom.

“I told you not to drink the rest of the wine!” Emily called out after her, teasingly.

Penelope only waved her off as she reached the door at the end of the hallway and quickly disappeared behind it, leaving the other two agents to bicker with each other some more.

The three ladies were currently having a girl’s night consisting of wine, snacks, and gossip, something that certainly wasn’t new to their friendship. It had been Penny’s turn to choose what they watched next for the evening, and it was no surprise when she ultimately decided on a dark thriller starring one of her favorite actresses. JJ and Emily hadn’t seen it yet, nor any other movie that the actress starred in. However, they were already hooked on the one Garcia had queued up for the night. It was entitled, “Dining Out”, and though Garcia had spoiled half of the movie already, they still were intrigued to see how it would end.

Within minutes, the flamboyant blonde had returned and was quickly taking back her previous seat on the leopard-printed sofa.

“Alright, I’m ready.” She cheered, reaching for the remote once more.”

“Wait a minute,” Emily stopped her. “What’s this actress’s name again?” She wondered out of the blue.

“Sloan Hudson. Why?” Garcia answered immediately, before a sly smirk slowly made its way to her face. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

The suggestive wink that Emily received next threw her off guard and made her stumble on her next words. “Oh, uh, well yeah...sure. I-I mean, I guess, but that’s not why I was asking.”

“Mhmm. Really?” Penelope questioned, doubtfully. “So you weren’t planning on searching her name up on google and stalking her IMDb profile?”

“Or setting a photo of her as your new lock-screen?” JJ added on to the teasing, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Alright, you two. Knock it off.” Emily rolled her eyes with a smile, as she pretended to throw popcorn at them. She knew that they were just messing around with her though, so the atmosphere still remained lighthearted.

Truth be told, Emily had recently come out to the team, though they already had their suspicions about her preferences for women. (I mean come on, they’re all profilers. Of course they knew. That, and the fact that she wasn’t very good at hiding it anyway.)

Since then, however, they had soon become aware of her “type” and it was clear that this “Hudson” girl definitely fit into that category. Her hair was dark, and her eyes were light, a contrast that balanced so well against her warm and evenly toned skin. Her features were soft, yet accented with perfectly sculpted cheekbones and nicely shaped eyebrows that made it seem like she was personally chiseled by the finest renaissance artists in history. Her raw beauty was natural and effortless, which was something that Emily always found herself drawn to in a woman. She fit her type to a T, so of course JJ and Penny would tease her about it.

“I swear, I wasn’t asking with creep-like intentions.” She defended herself. “I just thought she looked familiar. I don’t know, maybe I actually did watch something she was in before.”

“Well she’s done a little modeling too.” Penelope added. “You might’ve seen her face plastered at the mall or something.”

Emily thought for a moment, trying to wrack her brain for a possible answer. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe that’s it.”

“Shall we get back to the movie? Perhaps it will jog your memory a bit more.”

“Actually, we might have to take a rain check.” JJ cut in, looking down at her phone seriously. “Hotch just texted. Looks like we have a new case and we need to be at the BAU first thing in the morning, which is weird considering nothing came across my desk yesterday.”

“Wait, what?” Garcia pouted. “But you all just got back from a case. Now you have to leave again? We were supposed to have brunch tomorrow and everything.”

“Sorry, Pen.” Emily sighed, patting her thigh comfortingly. “I promise we’ll continue where we left off as soon as we get back, okay? Right, Jayje?”

“Yes, of course.” The blonde smiled reassuringly. “I still gotta know if I was right or not about what happens next.” She added, nudging the brunette’s shoulder with her own. “But until then, duty calls. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

The next morning, the team arrived at the BAU and wasted no time in filing into the roundtable room just as requested. They had no idea why their presence was needed on what was supposed to be their day off. However, they were certainly aware of what their job consisted of, so they knew it had to be serious. Hotch was already in there when they took their seats, and being the one in charge of the briefing, he stood at the head of the table and wasted no time diving right into it.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m sorry to call you all back in, but you know I wouldn’t do so if it wasn’t urgent.” He stated, before clicking a button on his laptop, making three different images instantly pop up on the large monitor behind him. Each image held the face of three different young women seemingly young, all with dark hair, bright eyes, and tanned skin. “Jessica Dunning, Rina Mendes, and Sofia Lombardi, all went missing a week apart from one another at the beginning of the month, and each of their bodies were found the exact same way: A single stab wound to the chest, and various traces of poison in their systems.”

“Well it’s clear this unsub has a type.” Rossi pointed out, noticing the similarities in each of the victims. “Was there any signs of sexual assault?”

“So far, none.” Hotch quickly clarified, before clicking to the next slide depicting pictures of the actual crime scenes. “But the unsub did position all three of their bodies in the same way, post-mortem. They were found laying on their backs with their hands crossed over their midsection, and a bouquet of flowers in their grasp.”

“Seems like a sick and twisted version of Snow White, if you ask me.” Emily mumbled. “Only the prince never showed. Maybe it's linked to the unsub’s childhood? Could’ve read the story as a kid and favored it over the other fairy tales for whatever reason.”

“That would actually be a plausible theory.” Spencer chimed in. “Afterall, in the original story the Evil Queen orders the huntsman to kill Snow White using a dagger, which could explain the stab wound in these victims. Not only that, but she later on uses poison as well in the apple that she gifts her. It seems highly unlikely for those two specifications to be coincidental.”

“Why is it that crazy psychopathic killers always have to ruin sweet little innocent things?” Garcia mumbled to herself.

“Guys, maybe the unsub is a woman.” JJ spoke up. “I mean, if we’re really linking this to the fairy tale, it could all be an act of vengeful jealousy where the unsub is targeting women who might seem more privileged or better than her in some way.”

“That could very well be a possibility.” Hotch replied, nodding in agreement. “After all, the acts of remorse and tidiness shown here are typically all signs of a female’s work, so until we know for certain let’s not rule that out. Whether this unsub really did get inspired by a childhood fairy tale or not, there’s definitely a pattern here.”

“Uh, Hotch?” Derek questioned, suddenly catching the attention of the other agents in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, I agree that there’s obviously something going on here, but you mean to tell me we were called in for only three murders? Doesn’t it usually take more bodies to show up for us to be even thought of?”

“Normally yes, which is actually what brings us to our main concern.”

Hotch clicked the button on his remote and immediately a different young woman with dark hair just like the others showed up on the screen. “This is Kayla Shafer. She was reported missing last night when she never returned home from her usual late-night shift at the diner.”

“A d-diner?” Garcia stuttered out, nervously, before glancing at the other two women in the room.

“Yes, that is correct.” He nodded, before continuing the briefing. “She’s been a waitress there for a little over a year now. Her parents just assumed that she had gotten caught up in the severe storm that occurred last night but when she never made it home, and they never received a message from her, they called the police. It hasn’t been 24 hours yet, so they couldn’t file a report, however it’s safe to assume that the unsub has her. Meaning, that we only have a few days to find her before its too late. The LAPD needs all the help they can get so that’s why the Chief has requested our immediate assistance. We can discuss more on the flight there but for right now we need to leave as quickly as possible. In the meantime, Garcia, I need you to run background searches on all of the victims and see if they have anything in common.”

“Yes, Sir.” The blonde replied, already beginning to type away on her laptop.

“Thank you. Everyone else, please collect your things and meet at the jet. Wheels up in 20.” Hotch stated, before exiting the room and leaving the others to gather their files.

As everyone stood up and dispersed, Garcia managed to quickly grab ahold of JJ and Emily, pulling them to the side.

“Okay, please tell me I’m not the only one who is rightfully spooked here!” She whispered, anxiously.

Frowning, Em glanced over at JJ in confusion, before turning to face Penelope. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the latest victim, Kayla Shafer! She was attacked, in the rain, after her shift at a diner. That doesn’t seem the least bit familiar to you?”

“…Ohhh, the movie we watched last night…” JJ slowly came to the same realization. “Wait, are you saying you think that it’s somehow connected?”

“I don’t know, you guys are the profilers, you tell me!” The blonde exclaimed. “I mean she even looks exactly like the main character!”

“Hold on a minute,” Emily put her hand out to try and calm her. “I’m sure it’s just a crazy coincidence. It would surely cause alarm if all of the victims were waitresses at diners who were abducted the same way, but Kayla was the only one.” She pointed out, before flipped through the case file. “You see? Jessica was a barista, Sofia was a wedding planner, and Rina was unemployed.”

“Emily’s right, Pen.” JJ rubbed her shoulder, comfortingly. “It’s just a crazy coincidence. But if it makes you feel any better, you can tell us how the movie ended so we can be aware if anything else suspicious comes up in the field?”

“Yeah.. okay.” Garcia sighed. “I guess th— wait a minute. Jennifer Jareau, you better not be tricking me into giving away the ending! Our girl’s night shall resume as soon as you all get back, and only then can you find out. Emily, don’t you dare look it up either! As a matter of fact give me both of your phones. I need to install a firewall that will prevent you both from researching spoilers.” 

The two laughed as they sidestepped Penny’s awaiting hands, and began rushing away. 

“Oh, I see how it is.” She called out after them. “Just remember that I can hack into your search histories!”

The flight was around 5 hours, so there was enough time for the team to come up with a game plan. Together they all gathered towards the center of the jet as Garcia’s face popped up on the tablet before them.

“My sweets, you have been gone a total of 4 hours and I already miss each and every one of you. This building is not the same when all of your presences are lacking from it.”

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke in a friendly, yet stern, tone that told her she needed to focus back on the case.

“Right! My apologies, Sir. So, I ran the backgrounds of each victim like you requested but they literally have zero connections to one another. I searched from A to Z starting from the day that they were born, but the only thing they seem to have in common is just their physical appearances.”

“Alright, so he chooses random targets who all look the same.” Emily voiced her thoughts. “It could be that the victims remind them of an ex-girlfriend or family member in one way or another. Or, maybe they do remind him of a fairy tale, and he felt obligated to come to their rescue in some dark and twisted way?

“Actually,” Spencer cut in, meddling with his fingers. “I was thinking more about the Snow White theory and some of it just doesn’t add up. The huntsman never actually harmed the princess, he let her go. So if this really was related to those key details, it doesn’t make sense that each of the victims actually had stab wounds because that wasn’t in the story. Not only that but according to these reports, the poison found in their bodies wasn’t ingested, but rather, inhaled. If this unsub really is trying to replicate the story of Snow White, they’re surely doing an awful job at it. I mean, it’s completely inaccurate.”

“Well, Snow White was known for her purity and innocence right?” Derek asked. “It could have something to do with religion. Just like Mary was criticized for being a pregnant virgin, maybe the unsub is targeting morally clean women who he thinks are actually sinners.” He shrugged, before looking down at the tablet. “Garcia, were any of the victims tied to a church or youth group of some kind?”

“Give me one second,” She uttered, as she began typing away on her keyboard. “No, they weren’t. But fear not, my beloveds, because after a bit more digging into their lives I did find out some very interesting things. Jessica Dunnings, the 24 year-old barista, also doubled as a babysitter for her next door neighbors, Darrin and Claire Anderson.”

“Alright… so she was just trying to make a little extra cash. How is that important?” Derek questioned, causing Garcia to smirk.

“Well Sugar, if you call ‘doing the devil’s tango’ with Mr. Anderson while his wife is at work a way of getting a ‘little extra cash’, then consider her heavily rewarded.”

That piece of information made every one of the team member’s eyes widen in surprise. They knew Garcia was never one to beat around the bush, but her lack of a filter never failed to catch them off guard.

“Ah, okay.” Derek nodded, in understanding. “So you’re telling me these girls were the opposite of pure, huh?”

“Not necessarily,” Garcia replied. “Rina was actually as innocent as they come. She had good grades all throughout high school and even graduated with honors and multiple scholarships. She literally had no mean bone in her body and was actually a volunteer at various homeless shelters.”

“Definitely seems too good to be true.” JJ commented under her breath.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Garcia continued. “Her life wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. When she was 15 she was diagnosed with Leukemia and the doctors didn’t think that she’d make it to her 18th birthday. It was an uphill battle and she was constantly in and out of the hospital, causing her parent’s medical bills to skyrocket. Thankfully, she beat the cancer and made it to adulthood, and she even started a GoFundMe page to assist her parents with the bills.” Garcia’s voice suddenly fell quieter, as a slight whimper was heard from her end. “But it wasn’t even a month after her birthday that she was murdered.”

“God, that’s terrible.” JJ sighed, deep in thought. “I can’t imagine what her parents must be going through. The poor girl didn’t even get a real chance at life.”

Emily suddenly sat up, and let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding before quickly trying to change the subject. “Okay, so you were right, Garcia. These girls have literally nothing in common, other than the fact that their lives could literally be made into movies. I mean, the mistress and the cancer kid. I can probably think of five different films with those same story arcs. I don’t even have to hear about Sofia and Kayla to know that they probably had similar eventful pasts.”

Everyone nodded at her words, but it was Garcia who was immediately hit with an epiphany. It was a stretch, she knew that, especially given what Emily and JJ had told her before they left. However, it was seeming less and less like a coincidence. Now, she just had to muster up the courage to share it with the group without sounding ridiculous.

“The only accurate lead we have is in knowing that this unsub is clearly targeting young women with dark hair and light eyes, all with similar skin tones and features.” Hotch concluded what they already know. “They have a designated type. That means whatever the motive is, it’s most likely personal for the unsub, and we can see that they continuously show remorse with the bodies. Garcia, I want you to run traces of every woman in California that resembles the victims.”

“But Sir, that’s probably gonna result in thousands of women--”

“I know, but we have to start somewhere. The killings didn’t start until the beginning of the month so look into specific women who have any significance to the time frame. It’s a needle in a haystack, I’m aware. However, until we can gather more information at the scene enough to narrow it down, it's all we have to go on.”

“Well, actually, I, uh, may have some valuable information already for you.” Garcia mumbled, nervously. “I didn’t want to say anything, but the lives of these victims all seem extremely familiar to me. Like Emily mentioned, it's almost as if their lives could’ve all been the main plot to major-hit movies, and…I kinda think they were.”

“What are you saying?” Hotch asked, his interest certainly piqued.

Meanwhile, JJ and Emily both glanced at each other knowingly, wondering where she was going with this. They had assumed the latest victim was just coincidentally similar to the main character in the movie they watched last night, but they couldn’t deny that each and every one of the victims looked exactly like the famous actress that starred in it. Which is why, Garcia’s next words didn’t surprise them at all.

“Sir,” She continued. “I think this unsub could possibly be targeting a famous actress named Sloan Hudson. At first I thought it was just a coincidence, but the resemblance to all of the victims is uncanny. The real kicker, though, is the that it seems like every victim so far has lived the real life of some of the fictional roles she’s played in the media. For instance, Kayla Shafer was a waitress at a diner, and Sloan’s character in the movie “Dining Out” was a waitress at a diner too, both end up being attacked by someone. I originally believed it was just a coincidence, but after more digging and finding out more information, it’s not the only one. Sloan was also casted as a mistress, just like Jessica, in another movie entitled “Secret Secretary”, as well as a cancer patient, similar to Rina, when she guest starred in a surgical tv drama. I know it’s a stretch, and I’m probably not even right. It was just a thought, and I’m sorry. I’ll stop talking now.”

“You know, I actually think you might be onto something, Garcia.” Reid assured her, sitting up in his seat and already coming up with different theories himself. “If I remember correctly, Hudson was also casted as a wedding planner in that romantic comedy you dragged me to see last summer, and Sofia Lombardi was a wedding planner as well. So, without any other current leads I think it’s safe to assume that the unsub could very well be targeting her.”

“Okay, so I’m not just going crazy,” Garcia smiled to herself in relief. However, it wasn’t even a moment later that her smile completely faltered, knowing that Sloan was one of her favorite actresses. “Oh no...Hotch, if this is true we have to warn her. She could be in danger!”

 Hotch furrowed his eyebrows in thought as the others looked towards him.  “Alright,” He nodded. “This is definitely something we can work with. Do you know where she resides?”

On the other line, the rapid clicks of Garcia’s keyboard could be heard, and in less than a minute she already had her answer. “According to Google, she owns a luxury apartment in New York, but she’s currently in LA for her next film.”

“When does the filming start?”

“It actually started filming a few weeks ago. Her fans have been buzzing about it all over social media ever since the beginning of the month.”

“Well it fits the timeframe. So that could have been the trigger.” Emily pieced together. “It definitely seems personal. Perhaps an obsessive fan? Though, that still doesn’t explain the M.O or the end goal for all of this.”

“I think it’s safe to assume that Sloan is his end goal.” Hotch added, before turning to everyone. “Alright we need to know more about each of the victims and why this unsub positions them the way that he does post-mortem. Morgan, Prentiss, I want you both at the latest crime scene. Rossi, Reid, you two head to the M.E facility and examine the other bodies. JJ, you're with me as we meet with the LAPD. I need you to ensure this doesn’t reach the media before we get in contact with Miss Hudson. And Garcia?”

“Yes?”

“Good work.” He gave her a small smile. “Find a way to reach Sloan’s management team if you can, but in the meantime, I’m gonna need you on the next available flight to Los Angeles. You’re officially on this case.”

A/N: i’m really excited to continue this, so please let me know your thoughts and what you would like to see happen!

#reblogging/reposting my story on this new blog that’s not so new anymore lol #working on the second chapter so pls comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this specific fic #show: criminal minds #emily prentiss x fem!oc #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds fic #the show must go on 🎬

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL

AND I KNOW IT'S LONG GONE AND THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE I COULD DO, AND I FORGET ABOUT YOU LONG ENOUGH TO FORGET WHY I NEEDED TO.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, description of panic attack, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.7K+

☆ A/N: it'll be a short fic, i said. short and sweet and simple, i lied to myself.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The moment your name leaves his lips, you swear the world halts on its rotation. 

This was real. Every fear and every anxiety you had wrestled with over the last twenty four hours wasn’t for naught – he was here, sitting before you, breathing your name out like a sigh of relief when all you felt was pain. Stabbing, radiating pain. It’s even worse than looking at pictures and headlines of a stranger on a phone screen. Something about him suddenly being tangible, suddenly being real, sends you reeling. 

Lydia looks wildly between your showdown with the ghost of a man before you, “I’m sorry… Do you two- do you know each other?”

Not anymore.

“I-” you choke on your stutter. You’re frozen under his stare, going ashen as your head spins. Leave the room. Think of an excuse, get out of this room, run away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

It’s the world’s most pathetic excuse, but the only thing you can spit out before you’re turning heel and running, just as your body had so desperately craved. You nearly bump into one of the security guards you’d just bravely had a confrontation with. 

They’d demanded your phone, you had put up a fight. You had stood your ground. Had held your chin high, dared them to push further even once they had your cell phone in their grasp, and displayed all that self-assuredness you had curated in the last two years. Only to end up scampering past them like a wounded animal mere seconds later.

Pathetic.

Lydia calls out something after you, but it reaches deaf ears as you blaze down the hallway. Your chest is squeezing, as if someone had wrapped it in shrink-wrap and sucked all of the air right out of it, swathed so tightly you could feel every pounding beat of your pulse racing. Your eyesight completely blurs, not quite from tears but rather a mere loss of focus. You nearly knock over one of the god forsaken fake plants Lydia insists as a primary form of decor, hardly being within the right mind to reach out and right the oversized bush of green plastic. 

But you don’t have to. Right as your back collides with the wall off to the side of the plant, breathing only coming in short and miserable pants, a different hand reaches out to catch the plant. A ringed hand. 

When Eddie says your name again, it’s not a sigh. It’s laced with panic as you support your full weight against white plaster and stare at where knuckles wrap around faux wooden stems. 

“Hey,” he stresses, hand leaving your line of sight as he puts a large palm on each of your shoulders. You can’t look at him, not yet, “Hey, can you breathe for me? C’mon, big breaths.” 

This close, you can smell the cologne. It’s not even the same woodsy drugstore scent that had lingered on the pillowcases he’d left you to cling to while on tour. Even that, something so miniscule as what cologne he now wore, had changed. And the new and unfamiliar scent chokes you, turns your desperate gasps for air even more futile. 

You had walked out of that apartment two years ago, without any intention of ever being this close to him again. You’d sworn to yourself you’d never be this close again. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” he squeezes your shoulders within his hold ever so slightly, as if attempting to ground you, “You need to breathe.” 

Your eyes nervously find his brown ones. For a second, you recall summer days when the sun would hit them just right, turning them into molten honey for your tasting. Soft and glowing, warming you from the inside out so effortlessly. 

But there’s not a single shred of sunlight in this hallway. The dark brown falls flat against your vision. 

“I’m fine,” you very clearly aren’t, struggling to even get the words out into the air between you two, “I’m- I’m fine.”

He doesn’t fight you when you reach up to swat away his hands. He lets you, hands falling away with ease, touch retracting as if it had never burned you. You take the chance to look over the metal now settled on his fingers, and you realize he still wears all the same ones you remember so vividly. A cross, a pig’s face, an animalistic skull. But there are new ones added to his collection, adorned on his right hand rather than the left. Unfamiliar and odd, the bulky metallic additions are more plentiful. A silver snake wrapped around his pinky, a large spider with the body of a Magic 8 ball on his pointer, a bat spread eagle on his middle. There’s a chunkier one on his thumb, thinner ones added above a few of his second knuckles, but you can’t clear the haze of your vision long enough to pick up on the designs. You choose to focus back on the familiar ones instead, old and comforting even in your panic. 

New rings, new cologne, new habits – the Eddie before you is not the Eddie you once knew. 

“Okay,” he’s whispering now. You’re not even sure what excuse he used to follow you out here without causing a scene. Maybe he did cause a scene, surely a grander one than you. He had that privilege now; he was an untouchable rockstar, he could afford to raise a ruckus. “I… Are you sure?” 

It’s hard to believe there was a time he was a familiar comfort when all that remains now is the awkward distance between the two of you.

But when he takes a step back from you, the new cologne leaves your stratosphere and the new rings leave your field of vision, and the breaths finally come just a tiny bit easier. Still not enough to satiate your lungs, but enough that the headrush begins to pass. 

“I’m sure.” 

You try to insert such finality in those two words. As if whatever had just happened would fade and never exist, as if you could walk back into that conference room and take yourself off this project. You can’t. Eddie has a sense of control, a grip on his reality and the reigns of his choices, but you don’t. If you were to demand Lydia remove you from the project, you’d be risking termination. You’d be risking everything – and it may not be much, but you’d built it brick by broken brick these last few years. You’d salvaged what you had been able to out of the ashes of what had been, but it hadn’t been enough. It had hardly been enough for a foundation. You’d built up the person that now stood before him from practical scratch.

The weight of just how much you had to lose hits suddenly – the realization that this was happening and you had no control of it. 

But Eddie did. He had to. 

“You need to go back in there,” you start, voice still shaking and eyes still averted, “And you need to demand that they reassign you guys. You… You need-” you begin to stutter and fumble to find the right words. You could have lashed out, could have tried to pour salt in a wound you weren’t even sure still existed so that Eddie made the choice on his own. But your mind is muddled and you’re desperate, “Someone else can take on the project. You need to go and demand that someone else takes on the project.��� 

“What?” Not the response you wanted. Not the response you needed, “I- No.” 

Two years later, and he still found a way to do significant damage. 

Your eyes snap up, “What do you mean no?” 

“I mean no.”

“I haven’t asked anything of you. Not back then, not after everything happened, I-”

He cuts you off with a scoff. “Can’t ask for anything if you just fall off the face of the fucking earth.” 

You hadn’t noticed before, but as his walls begin to build, you realize that the prior interaction had been something vulnerable. Something where neither of you were on the defense quite yet like you’d always imagined a reunion would go. All that had mattered ten seconds ago was you being okay, him coming after you, making sure you were fine. He’d allotted you all the care and attention you had craved so terribly two years ago, nearly begged for until your knees had bled for. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, getting too distressed to think straight, “Please, for the love of God, just make them reassign the project-”

“I can’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head, “Do you think I’d put myself through this if I could help it? I fucking can’t. I have absolutely no control in there. I didn’t even-” he cuts off his sentence, looking you in your eyes, leaving more to be said. 

He didn’t even what?

“I can’t do anything about it,” he says instead of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, “Trust me – if I could, I would. But I can’t. So why don’t you say something?” 

It’s your turn for scoffing and disbelief, “I can’t. I’m not the one with all the power and glory-”

“Is that what you think I have?”

“That’s what I know you have.” 

You both go quiet as a battlefield fills the distance between you. All anger, all regret. None of the love or care that had once existed between you two exists here in this quantum plane of sharp words and deadly jabs. 

“Just- please ask for a reassignment,” you try with one final plea, eyes hard on him, “Say that that first impression left you unimpressed, I don’t care. She won’t fire me for that.”

“Once again, no. As it turns out,” his voice is low, dangerous, unfamiliar. A tone he had never used before with you, “Even the one with all the power and all the glory can’t make miracles happen. Sorry, doll.” 

He doesn’t await your response, leaving you on your own as you stay pressed against the wall and he’s walking away. 

What is the saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? 

You were certainly feeling scorned.

You felt ripped wide open, beaten and bruised and damn scorned as he leaves a conversation you weren’t finished with. You can’t tell which limb aches the most – the shoulder where his now strange hands had held onto you, your fingers that had curled into pained fists at your side to show you were prepared for a fight, your rib cage that still struggled to expand and accommodate the air now vacant of his cologne that you needed after your panic attack, or the legs that had once carried you away from Eddie Munson only to lead you right back to him. 

There’s nothing you can do, though, beyond composing yourself. You take the same big, deep breaths that Eddie had tried to coax out of you moments before. Your fists slowly unfurl and your palms rake against the side of your jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat of the interaction. 

Fine. If he wouldn’t help you, you could handle this. You could manage this project, plan a goddamn party for your ex-boyfriend’s new single. You would treat it just as you did every other previous project you had excelled at, and you would avoid all unnecessary contact with him just as you had with previous clients. 

As a matter of fact, you could probably get away with avoiding all contact. 

He hadn’t hired you. His management had. And, according to him, he had no real power in this situation. If he had no say in the matters, then there would be no reason to reach out to him.

You could do this. You could handle this. 

It’s a mantra of salvation that you repeat to yourself internally as you take confident strides back to that conference room, not even stopping for the guards this time before you burst back into the room when your imminent doom awaits. 

The repetition falters a bit when all eyes land on you as you take your first steps into the room. 

Your name comes out of Lydia’s mouth like a hiss, her teeth locked into a smile that would better pass into a grimace as she asks, “How nice of you to join us again. Please, take a seat.” 

“Of course,” you can’t look her in her eyes for very long, immediately rushing to sit at the chair she’d motioned towards. You haven’t spared Eddie a single glance – you haven’t spared any of the boys you’d once known a look. Instead, you look up to direct an apology at the only face you don’t recognize before you, “I’m truly sorry.” 

The older gentleman, wrapped in a certain kindness and warmth below his professional attire, smiles. And in an instant, his face isn’t quite as unfamiliar, “No worries. When Nature calls, right? Regardless, I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.” 

You can guess which hole in Eddie’s life he’s attempting to smother, which shoes this man serves to fill. He has more hair than his predecessor, but the grin is the same. 

If you picture the man he reminds you of back in Hawkins, you’ll surely begin to ache. 

When you reply with your name, you can hear a fragment of your youth in your voice. Better days spent in Forest Hills trailer park, loitering about a trailer as Wayne Munson asks you how well of an eye you’ve been keeping on his nephew. You’d always lie, say you were keeping him in line when you knew you’d spent the day following him right into trouble, like some sort of lost puppy. Like some sort of loyal soldier. It occurs to you that that’s who you had always been; a fierce soldier over the shoulder of Eddie, ever the brave commander. You would have followed him into battle without a second of consideration, you did follow him all the way to New York without ever taking a final glance at your hometown. 

You wondered if he had tried to replace you as well. You imagine it; the new and fresh face that replaced yours in picture frames, that laid beside him at the end of each night he returned home, that heard a whisper of I love you over the line to the backtrack of a sound rehearsal. 

Were there ever any bloody wars between him and his new lovers that could compare to the battles never fought between you two? Did anyone else in this world know the wounds of his gun never fired? 

The smoke clears. You still don’t look at Eddie, afraid to only see the commander you once knew. You force a smile, putting on a soldier's bravado that doesn’t fit quite right anymore. 

Bullets never fired, triggers never pulled, but the blood stained the same.

“So, where shall we begin?”

—

Matt does most of the talking for the next hour. Sheet after sheet of paperwork is laid down in front of you, your hand beginning to cramp from signing your name so many times, and the details are discussed.

A new single, set to release in three months. A release party that needed to be grandeur and garner the type of attention that Matt feared had been waning from the band due to radio silence on their music front. The outlines of the project were clear cut, simple enough, and you had yourself fooled just well enough that this would be easy.

You kept your eyes set on the prize and never once noticed the tomfoolery occurring between the band members. The words on the tip of their tongues that Eddie keeps quiet through quick kicks to their shins beneath the table, the individual hurt reflected in each of their eyes as you treat them no better than strangers. That treatment of Eddie, they understood. But them?

They could never understand. 

“What’s the name of the single, if I may ask?” you question as you look over one of your copies of the paperwork. Lydia had been eerily silent, allowing you to take the lead. 

Despite the rough start, it was paying off. Having a switch for your emotions can be a good thing, as it turns out. 

“You may,” Matt nods before turning to the boys. It’s the first time he's looked to them for answers during the entire meeting, “Shall I do the honors, or would you boys rather do it yourselves?” 

It’s a chance for all the members of Corroded Coffin to open their mouths without silent reprimanding from Eddie beneath the table, but he beats them to it.

“Dial Tone.”

You freeze your reading. 

There’s something in the way he says it that forces you to look up. As if he’s only speaking to you, and the rest of the room is a faded mirage for him to send away for these private moments. Still a commander, even when his bravest soldier has left him. 

“Sounds… interesting,” you murmur, taking a few seconds too long to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say, “Rolls off the tongue easily.” 

“It certainly does. Which, ironic, given the situation that inspired the song.” 

“And what would that be?”

You’re both wearing masks in front of an audience half made up of people painfully aware of your history, and the rest being painfully oblivious. 

Does Matt know about you? Lydia certainly doesn’t know about Eddie. 

“Words never said. Answers never given. Phone calls missed and never… returned.”

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. It feels a bit selfish, a bit self absorbed, to so quickly assume you’re the inspiration. 

But how could you believe anything else when Eddie is looking at you like that?

Hollow eyes, devoid of all the honey you once reveled in. Not so much of a stain of sweetness you swear you still taste on the back of your tongue. He’s looking at you with blame, well-deserved anger, and yet not an ounce of the guilt that should exist somewhere in those depths. 

“How riveting,” you play along, trying to swallow down the waves of emotions, “Sounds like it’ll really draw in your audience. Might even be relatable to a few.”

Answers never given. Like how someone could stop saying they loved someone they’d spent years planning their life with, like how he could stop calling so easily, how he could leave so easily. 

“Fingers crossed,” his forced smile in return is almost sinister, and you know it was the right choice to avoid speaking to each other until this moment.

There will be no contact. You know now that if you take on this project, which you technically have through law-binding contracts, that you won’t be able to be civil with Eddie. There is a history that can never be erased, mistakes made and wounds inflicted by both sides. Two worlds of hurt caused by opposing sets of hands that can only clash when they try to meet in the middle. 

But then Matt, sweet Matt that you had come to actually like during this meeting, has to burst your bubble.

“Right, well, the good news is the boys aren’t on tour for the time being, meaning there will be plenty of time to talk about the small details and how the single will come into play during planning,” he explains, happily and still so unaware, “As a matter of fact, I would like to emphasize just how much I would appreciate you including the boys, especially Eddie, in this ordeal. His participation would be very helpful.” 

Some silent form of communication happens between Matt and Eddie, glinting eyes and sudden frowns meeting raised eyebrows and fake smiles, but it’s not your concern. 

The last thing you want during this project is Eddie’s involvement. 

“Of course!” You need to think of an excuse, push for a way to keep him out, “But if Eddie is too busy, I’ll completely understand. I know that a single usually means an album, and that can be very time consum-”

“He won’t be too busy,” Matt interrupts, still staring at Eddie as if he’s daring him, not even questioning you singling him out as he does the exact same.

You recall what Eddie had insisted in the hallway, that his reach of control wasn’t as far as you had been assuming. 

Swallowing hard, you see another relic of Wayne Munson in this man – he wasn’t someone to argue with, “Right, of course. Eddie will be involved. Absolutely.” 

All the power and all the glory – but did it really rest in Eddie’s palms like you assumed?

“She has a point,” Eddie finally finds his voice, leaning back in his chair, trying to relax the tension from his shoulders, “I do have the album to work on.” 

“And now you have this. I’m sure you can find a way to multi-task.” 

Your comparison was accurate. It had been a while since you had seen another grown man capable of shutting Eddie down so quickly, tearing down his walls of affinity for challenging authority and reducing him to nothing more than a shell of his younger self. Matt and Wayne would have gotten along well. You doubt that they’ve met, but you know a bond would have formed between the common denominator of being able to subdue the once-rambunctious boy before you. 

Eddie pouts nearly the complete remainder of the meeting. And those foolish, bitter shards within you become determined to be the bigger person. To smile and nod along, even when you disagreed with certain terms discussed. To be agreeable, to be good, to be better. This new version of you has something to prove; that you’ve done better without Eddie, that you’ve changed into something that no longer aligns with who he is. 

It’s all for show, but you tell yourself no one can see through the cellophane disguise. 

The only remaining signatures aren’t required from you but the rest of the boys. A single contract is passed down the line, and each of them sign themselves away to the agreement. Line after line of swooping black ink locks the five of you into an entrapment, a crowded dance of newly made strangers who have no choice but to play pretend. 

Eddie makes it a deliberate point that he’s the last one to sign. Forces Grant to slide the prettily detailed paper right in front of him until it’s clear he’s making no move to pick up his pen, and the poor guy has to stretch a bit further and let Gareth take it rather than the stubborn rockstar. Only once Jeff’s own night-shade of ink has looped over one of the many lines does it return back to Eddie.

He looks you in the eyes for several seconds too long, pen crooked beside the paper on the table. You can’t take a single breath as you register how lifeless his eyes remain. 

He’s not the person you once knew, but you are no longer the girl that once saw the world in him. 

You will not drop to your knees before him, you will not worship the ground he walks on, you will not break. Certainly not first. Certainly not at all. 

There’s no final words before hands donning unfamiliar rings pick up a pen amongst the silence. Just the click of bringing the ink to life, and the soft scratch of promises that will not be kept. It’s nothing new amongst the two of you.

As a matter of fact, if the scratch of the pen could echo, it might just resemble the sound of the door on that haunted and vacant apartment closing for the final time behind you two years ago. 

—

“Do you two know each other?” 

You had been waiting for this moment. Once Matt had called for a quick break so that he could organize and make copies of all paperwork, you knew Lydia would be chasing you down. 

“What do you mean?” you question airily, topping off the small paper cup of water you had used as an excuse to dismiss yourself into the corner of the room, “Me and Matt? No, I’ve never-”

“Not you and Matt,” she moves to stand in front of you, your back to the room and the band, as she continues in an authoritative whisper, “You and the band – you and Eddie.”

“Why do you think we know each other?” 

Please don’t catch on. Please don’t notice. Please don’t make me admit it. 

Please don’t fire me. 

She retrieves her own water, moving as if she wasn’t having such an intense conversation with you at this moment. All a show for the clients, no doubt. You weren’t the only skilled actress in this room, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you ran out of this room when you saw him, maybe the way he ran after you without a word. Maybe the way the two of you spent a good ten minutes alone in that hallway, and how the rest of that band has been looking at you like you’re a ghost. Please don’t tell me you had a fling with Eddie before this. I really need my best person on this project, but I can’t have personal relationships interferin-”

“No, we don’t know each other,” you cut her off, ignoring the compliment and taking a sip to give your chance to formulate a better addition to the lie. It wasn’t really a lie, though, was it? “I promise it’s nothing, and it won’t interfere. I just…” I just hate him. I just miss the version of him I used to know. I just need you to take me off this project as quickly as possible for a reason that won’t make you think less of me or affect my future career here. “I don’t like the band, you know this.” 

“I knew you weren’t a fan of them, but…” she trails off and looks over your shoulder, no doubt surveying the band. When you stood up from the table, they’d all been feigning boredom as if they hadn’t been taking turns staring you down so intensely. You felt like an animal under observation. “I thought it would be a good thing. To have a neutral party take this on. Why, exactly, don’t you like them?” 

“ I don’t think he’s a good person.”

He as in Eddie. It goes as unspoken knowledge. And, technically, it isn’t a lie. Based on the headlines, based on his coolness this entire interaction, you don’t think he’s a good person. Not anymore. 

You can feel the four sets of eyes on you even now. Your exchange with Lydia has been too quiet for them to hear, but you know you’re still being watched carefully.

“You don’t have to think he’s a good person, but you do need to play nice,” Lydia reminds you. You open your mouth, prepared to argue that you had been playing nice when Lydia waves her free hand to stop you, “I know, I know. I’m not saying you haven’t been perfectly professional. You have been, aside from your… bathroom break at the beginning, but please just remember that.” 

You nod, stiff as ever. She was giving you more grace than you deserved if you tried to look at it from an outsider’s point of view. 

“Of course,” that tone of professionalism, that mask to hide the whirlwind of emotions. You could do this.

You had to do this.  

Choice is an illusion when Matt returns with the copies of paperwork, dividing the files up between himself and Lydia. Choice is an illusion as fake smiles are exchanged and pleasant goodbyes are offered. Choice is nothing but smoke and mirrors when all is said and done, and the entire group of you all stand outside the conference room, ready to part ways with a promise of next time, meaning the next meeting.

You never had a choice in any of this. Eddie did, somewhere along the line, but you didn’t. 

Lydia and you both hand over business cards to Matt’s waiting hands, a deliberate move on your part. You bypass Eddie’s expectant glare entirely. The quicker this is over with, the faster he’s exiting the building and no longer occupying the same room as you, the better. 

“We’ll be in contact,” Matt promises as he tucks the cards away carefully. 

“I look forward to it,” you assure him, as if you weren’t dreading every second of what those contracts had detailed.

Three months. You had just signed on to guarantee Eddie Munson being back in your life for three months. The thought makes you nauseous. 

Matt, ever the normal person, takes it as his queue to leave. Lydia has nodded, turned and began her short trek to her office as the band’s manager starts his journey to the elevator. Most of Corroded Coffin scampers after him, gazes on the floor as they retreat to a private space that will certainly be filled with questions. You almost wish there was a way for you to hear what will be said. The topic of conversation, undoubtedly, will be you. You and Eddie, Eddie and you. A pair of intertwined souls that had taken a sharp knife to your connection only to end up with Fate cruelly retying it on this dreadful day. 

Fate, and Eddie, it seems. 

His hand reaches out and catches your upper arm before you can escape the exchange properly. 

“Can we talk?” You stare at him blankly to hide the racing of your heart and pounding in your mind. Those hands on you, skin on skin, leaving an inevitable mark. An inevitable stain. “Go for coffee, go for lunch, just-”

“No.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. Your pause was only born out of shock. 

His eyebrows furrow, “No? What do you mean no?” 

It feels like a pathetic repeat of your interaction in the hallway, when you had begged him to save you from this doomed union. Except now, you hold the cards in your hand. The first sense of control you’ve been offered this entire time. 

“I mean no,” you repeat yourself clearly. Matt is halfway down the hall, and the boys trailing right behind him seem to fumble over their steps for a second. Jeff even goes as far as to look over his shoulder at the brewing storm appearing behind them, but clearly thinks better of intruding, “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want coffee, and I don’t want lunch.” 

End of story. 

Except, it isn’t, because Eddie’s face only twists further in pain, “We have to talk at some point-”

“Actually, we don’t. I’d prefer we didn’t. I think we can both agree it’ll be better, easier, for both of us to keep this strictly professional until we can go our separate ways again.”

He looks as if you had physically reached out and struck him. The force of your words nearly makes him rock backwards, face falling and mouth agape as he tries to grapple with the determination in your words. 

If you were a fool, you’d mistake it for a flash of disappointment. But it’s not possible – it couldn’t be disappointment, only arrogance. He had obviously been assuming you would just give in. Your change just hadn’t become clear enough to him yet. It would, in time. 

And now, the two of you seemingly had too much of it to endure. 

“Actually, I think we can both agree that’s a load of bullshit,” he crassly argues back once he’s regained composure, “You know that’s not possible.”

You shake your head, suck in a bit of the skin of your inner cheek between your molars as an internal encouragement to stand your ground, “It is. It’s not only possible, but is exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You heard Matt. We have to talk at some point, even if it’s just about this and not us.”

“And we will. We can talk about this project all you want, Eddie. But not over lunch, and not over coffee,” you swear you draw blood from your cheek as you take back on that tone of professionalism, ice cold and completely disconnected, “My preferred form of contact is email. I usually respond in a timely manner, even after hours-”

“Don’t do that,” he stops you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another one of your clients.” 

The metallic flavor floods the deepest corners of your mouth, overtaking the aftertaste of a honey you once knew on the back of your tongue, “That’s exactly what you are. One of my clients.” 

Just a client, and nothing more. A boundary must be drawn, or else there will be more blood spilled than a mere drop from biting your inner cheek. And you aren’t prepared to bleed for him – not again. Never again. 

He opens his mouth, as if he has more to dig out of the grave of this conversation, when Matt’s voice calls from down the hallway, “Eddie! C’mon! There’ll be time to talk later, we’ve got a meeting with the producer across town now.” 

His stance goes rigid, annoyance rolling off him in waves, eyes still focused on you. 

Maybe the reminder of time, the three month timeline, hurts him just as much as it hurts you. Maybe, just possibly, his arm has also been twisted in carving out a space for you in his life once more, whether strictly professional or not. 

He deeply exhales through his nose, “I don’t even have your email.” 

“Matt does. He has my card.”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t. How am I supposed to reach you through your preferred form of contact without it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

You mean to smile at him just as you would the owner of the bakery opening on Third Street, or the mother of a bride trying to share the weight of responsibilities for a wedding. It doesn’t come off that way, though – you can feel the sadness of it tickle the corners of your mouth before he’s even slowly turning from you.

You watch the figure of Eddie Munson walk away from you, and you begin to wish he were walking out of your life rather than only out of the building for the time being.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #maroon #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #i couldn't access my taglist response list for a few days so the taglists are NOT updated! they will be soon :) #half-assedly edited #i am now going to bed because i am the sleepiest girl to ever exist EVER #playing around with formatting don't mind me

[peakyscillian]

Tommy Masterlist.

Tommy Requests CLOSED.

Please read Warning on my Main Masterlist.

Nearly all of my stories contain smut.

🤍 Requested 🖤 Smut

Tommy : One Shots.

Razor - Absolute Fluff with Tommy.

Nightmares - Season one Tommy.

Moonlight - 'and he calls me moonlight too' Drabble 🤍

Die for you - Modern!Tommy. Song inspired.

Social, What? - Modern!Tommy discovers the gram 🤍 Safe Inside - Tommy just wants you to be safe 🤍 Jealous - Why does Y/N need to be jealous when she's the one marrying Tommy. 🖤🤍 (Part two of Safe Inside) All in - Tommy needs to stop playing games 🖤 Christmas Eve - Christmas is never simple with the Shelby’s 🖤 Ride - You just can't help yourself 🖤🤍 Not In Love - You & Tommy are definitely NOT in love, no way. 🤍 Hurt - Using Writing prompts. 🤍 Sweet Valentine - Tommy sometimes just needs to be shown how fun love is! 🖤 Untidy - How did Tommy get his wonky bowtie.🖤 On Film - Tommy just needs something to help him through long business trips. 🖤🤍 Sleep - Tommy hasn’t slept since returning from war. 🤍 Guidance - You & Tommy both need some guidance.🖤🤍 His Property - You know exactly where you stand with Tommy until those lines get blurred.🖤🤍 Vibrations - Modern!Tommy finds out vibrating panties are a thing, someone is going to have to test drive them. 🖤 Right Here - Tommy once again needs to prove himself.🖤🤍 Naughty Secret - You've been dating Modern!Tommy for a few months, he's about to find out something that he really loves about you.🖤🤍

Falling - Tommy & Reader are close friends, but what if they could be more? 🤍 Make Me - Modern!Tommy is in the dog house. Part One | Part Two 🖤 Santa,Baby! - Modern!Tommy in a santa hat, yes please! 🖤 Under The Mistletoe - Part of K's 2.5k Bingo Challenge. Back On Watery Lane - Being back in Watery Lane really brings back old behaviours. 🖤

Tommy : Series

Family Ties Masterlist - The Shelby's will do anything for family. 🖤 ✨Completed 16.04.23✨

Desire - Tommy is just too addictive 🖤

Tommy : Drabbles & Blurbs

Run - All Tommy ever does is run.

Partners In Crime - Part of Mar's 900 Celebration! Three's A Party - 🖤 Pizza & Champagne - 🖤 Sweetest of the Sunflowers - For K's 3k Celebration!

Lazy Mornings - “I can’t pull out when you wrap your legs around me like that.” 🖤🤍

Tommy : On Hold

Are you mine? - Soulmate AU. Tommy X OC. 🖤 ✨Currently not updating✨ My Girl - Tommy x Reader, Past Arthur x Reader (Hinted) Part One. ✨Currently not updating✨

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurbs #tommy shelby #tommy shelby blurbs #tommy shelby fiction #my writing #writing #peakys #peaky story #blurbs #masterlist #tommy masterlist #thomas shelby #ts #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x oc #angst #headcanon #taglist #peckyciills is my main account #smut warning #send requests #anon request #female reader insert #Cillian Murphy Masterlist #Pinned Post #peakyscillian updates

[sunset-a-story]

Last issue of Sunset Vol 1. Sunrise is up for general audiences!

Here.

Scott goes to LA, Reeve makes a private call, Darwin meets Anise, Neptune plans an op, Reeve and Alex have an awkward talk, and Vol 1 ends.

Sunset Volume 2. High Noon will begin posting starting April 26th for Patreon and May 3rd for general audiences!

Sunset taglist. I try to keep it to release updates, long excerpts, and character profiles. Please comment/dm for +/-

@chayscribbles  @elizaellwrites @revenantlore @clairelsonao3 @kahvilahuhut

@writeintrees @scribe-of-stories @stuffaboutwriting @cee-grice @ravenkake

@covenscribe @kingkendrick7 @theimperiumchronicles @void-botanist

@worldsfromhoney @oc-writing-corner @rewritingrosie @jacqueswriteblrlibrary @thatndginger

@words-after-midnight

#So excited for vol 2 you guys! adkdjflsksdkjs #sunset a story #serial fiction #slow burn #slow build #eta: taglist is being weird today and only works if I add a bunch of paragraph breaks :|

[purplexing-writing-and-concepts]

{Am I…a God? Neat}

-Chapter Two: Emergence Day & Cryo Therapy-

Polaris was concerned for its creator. Sure they had finally mustered up the energy to summon them home, but maybe it was a mistake. Watching (Y/n) float about the void space looking through screens and observing everything was a sight the creature thought they wouldn’t see again. It had been eons since the creator’s fall. Since that last horrific fight the remnants of it can still be seen in the worlds of creation.

The gelatinous creature hovered over (Y/n) shoulder noticing that they’d stopped to stare at one screen in particular. A warped jingle sounded from them as they noticed it was of Teyvat. (Y/n) hummed at them but said nothing. The current scene was of the twins being separated, playing on loop. Polaris knew of the twins separation but didn’t feel a need to worry as because of the divine’s blessing they’d always find each other again.

But it was worried about what could happen while the twins were separated. The creature knew that the twins were the only being keeping the cosmos and the worlds of creation stable since the Void’s death. If their powers were sealed away and them separated who knows what would happen to everything their creator made, including their beloved children.

This was the reasoning Polaris and a few other screen guardian creatures banded together to summon the divine once more. It was risky and resulted in casualties, the screen guardian of Teyvat was the only survivor. “Polaris dear…its not your fault…you did what was right…you all did…and for that I could not be prouder of my creations…Know you do not bear this burden alone little one..”

A hand was placed on top of Polaris’s body as a gentle and comforting warm embraced them. The aura of the divine was always something Polaris missed in the time it had to spend alone. A soft jingle rung out from it as it nuzzled into its creator’s hand. “I’m back now…but I am still weak…even so I must act now…I fear what damage this… Celestia has done is almost irreparable…”

A sigh could be heard from (Y/n) has they placed a hand on their chin to think,’ I need to reunite with my children but…if I don’t do so quitely I fear another Divine war will break out…I’m too weak to fight on that scale again for now…’ Thoughts ran through their head as they contemplated the best way to get rid of the parasite.

“Too think while I was away another one formed…and succeeded in conquering a world at that…well this world is still in its infantile stage so its no wonder Tevyat couldn’t defend against its invasion.” Polaris jingled at the thought. It’d lost contact with the Tevyat world guardian during the summoning but the last it’d heard from it was that it had secured a location for the creator to enter undetected.

“Oh well you are indeed a tactile screen guardian…hmm a form will suit you better..you have earned a metamorphosis…”

If Polaris could cry it would be. The last metamorphosis it had occurred ages before the Void's fall. When Teyvat was in its early stages of creation. Upon the world's basic finish in the sandbox Polaris was gifted with a new form, the one it is in currently. "Let's get started them well head to this location you mentioned.." Polaris released a series of jingles in excitement and gratitude.

A golden glow slowly began to take over the creature's form much like when it first reappeared after the Divine One's return. The light began to mold its body to be larger. It even felt new appendages growing. As the light dimmed the once duosion looking seelie looked like a Reuniclus-seelie hybrid. Smiling at Polaris (Y/n) removed their hand and floated smoothly towards the screen displaying Teyvat.

"Come now Polaris it is time we return the true natural order..." Letting out a warble sound Polaris glided over to its creator in glee attaching itself to their back as they both melted through the screen.

Their surrounding became distorted and fuzzy before the glaze faded from their eyes. (Y/n) hummed in approval noticing they were on the summit of Dragonspine. The area was chilly at best, odd that the sheer cold didn't affect them. It also seemed as though the area was still sealed off. The Skyfrost Nail sat in the middle of a ruin. A few ruin guards could be seen from their place. "I sense a few lifeforms around.. Polaris would you be a dear and gather everyone for me..."

Said creature floated off their creator's back and moved in front of them before doing its best salute and speed off to gather the creator's of Teyvat that were around the summit. Watching the young screen guardian gather the slimes, hillichurls, and their large frost Lawachurl (Y/n) couldn't help but smile sadly. This world was in disarray because of their absence.

While yes, they were technically dead, that didn't mean they didn't blame themselves for what has become of one of their precious worlds. Not to mention their children also got caught up in this chaos doesn't soothe them either. A sigh left them as they floated upwards towards the platform where Polaris had gathered the creatures. It was a rather adorable sight if (Y/n) would say.

The lawachurl sat behind all the other creatures with most of the hillichurls sitting in its lap with the cryo-slimes seemingly bouncing in excitement. Holding back a laugh at the display (Y/n) smiled. "Hello everyone...I've been away for while haven't I..." A grunt could be heard from the frost lawachurl. "Yes I know it was sudden...and I'm aware of the situation regarding Celestia..."

The group of creatures seemed to start buzzing with various displays of anger or disapproval hearing (Y/n) mention Celestia. "Trust that it displeases me just as much if not more than all of you of their intrusion.. for now I will need you all to help me prepare the grounds...I plan to make this my reside here alongside you all but I'd like for everyone to feel comfortable and at home."

As they finished the lawachurl stood to its full height, some of the hillichurls scrambling to do the same, before bowing. The other hillichurls followed suit with the slimes doing their own attempted bow. "Oh there's no need to bow..hehe I may be divine but that doesn't mean you are below me.." At their words the creatures relaxed and waited. "I'll be sending out Polaris to gather the other Churlenas and slimes of the mountain and have him lead them here..." With that the gelatinous creature once again saluted before speeding off the cliff of the mountain in a glide.

Continuing the speech (Y/n) softly floated to the side to show the ruins "I will ensure everyone's safety and make sure to rid of any unwanted visitors...in the meantime could you all, except the slimes I have a special task for you in a moment, help with clearing the rubble and moving the ruin guards." Receiving an array of nods and puffs of agreement they couldn't help the large smile that appeared on their face. "While you all do that..if the slimes are able, I'd like for you all to attempt freezing me for as long as you can..."

The group of slimes seemed confused before (Y/n) chuckled as they explained," I need to get back in touch with world's elements and this is the best way I can think that doesn't involve me getting involved with the archons and celestia..." At this the slimes bounced happily. (Y/n) could tell the creatures felt honors that their divine creator wanted their help getting touch with the elements. "Alright then let's get started yeah..."

Floating towards the slime as they made a circle around them, the lawachurl and hillichurls began moving about removing rubble and pilling it up near the Skyfrost Nail. Taking a deep breathe before taking a meditative position with their hands clasped in their lap, (Y/n) then spoke," Let's begin.." With their signal given the slimes began to blow cryo infused frost onto them as a small slime bounced itself into (Y/n)'s lap producing a frosty mist.

This went on for a while before a soft ice blue aura began to form around (Y/n)'s head like a circlet before it spiked outwards like sharp teeth. The aura then shattered like glass before turning into a cloud of mist sinking into (Y/n)'s forehead. With a gasp they opened their eyes quickly feeling a subtle cooling sensation around their body before it faded away. "So this is cryo...it feels different...than I remember.."

The small slime in their lap wiggled before it bounced onto their head making a noise that can only be compared to as purring, but it sounded like glass on glass, as it practically snuggled until it was comfortable. Its actions sent a smile to (Y/n)’s face as they moved themselves into a standing position, not that their feet were touching the ground.

They took a deep breathe before exhaling, a frosty mist expelling from their mouth as the tips of their hair glowed a fluorescent ice blue. “It kind of tickles….” They said as they softly twirled ensuring the little slime was safe before they stopped in their original position.

The other larger slimes gave warped chirps as cheers of excitement. (Y/n) turned as they heard of grunt from the Lawachurl. It was standing a but behind them holding four deactivated ruin guards. The hillichurls were still piling small rubble into piles, though the larger pieces were accounted for.

“Oh place them here I have an idea of what to do with them…” Gesturing to the open space in front of them as they moved aside for the Lawachurl to pass and put down the ruin guards. Said creature then lugged the old machines to the designated spot and dropped them unceremoniously.

Looking over the machine they noticed that they all each were missing a part that the others had. “How intriguing….but as they are now they won’t really protect much if anything…” Floating around the machines inspecting them each in more detail. “I have an idea.” Reaching a hand into the first guard’s eye socket (Y/n) rummaged around before grabbing its core.

They repeated the process for the other three guards. The cores were blackened in their deactivated state, with a small pulse of their divine aura the devices lit up a bright (Favorite Color) before floating from their hands back into the eyes of the guards. The aura then spread throughout the ruin guards’ bodies as it encased them like a liquid.

It seemed to condense the machines bodies into the cores before each color melded together into a diamond shape. Floating over to the newly formed core (Y/n) grabbed it and all but excitedly zoomed towards the Skyfrost Nail. Looking at it with a barely hidden smirk they placed the core onto it.

At first nothing seemed to happen, but then the glow from the core seemed to be transferring into structure. This caused bright cracked to appear on it as the bright blue ice broke away in unassuming chunks together. “Now to finish the job…”

Gliding towards the chunks of ice like crystal they moved them into the desired position. Then (y/n) moved back grabbing the core again, and all but yanking it out of the nail, as the nail collapsed in on itself. Smiling at they saw the Domain’s entrance light up they moved back towards their “Ice-sculpture” placing the core in its center.

Tapping the four cores (Y/n) formed 3 and placed them near the other four. All seven cores were now forming a ··⋮·· symbol. Nodding at the work they smiled before switching to a more serious expression.

“Okay…this is the hard part…” Taking a deep breathe they infused their hands with cryo before placing them on the core once more. Focusing on it as the ice chunks melded together they made sure the cores were bonded to the ice structure before removing their hand and floating backwards a bit.

“If I’ve done this right I should hear a—“ As (Y/n) tried to finish their sentence a loud,”Du…dU…gi…ccceEE” sounded out through the area. The seven cores in the face of the structure blinked in a peculiar pattern ad they all then blinked in unison. The ice sculpture then proceeded to float upwards off the ground and stay there.

“Let’s welcome our newest protector of Dragonspine…” The ice construct released another series of beeps before flying off like Polaris did. “It will make sure that any unwanted guests stay out of Dragonspine…fortunately it’s programmed not to kill..” Hearing this the slime all gave a cheer of happiness. The hillichurls cheered as well and the Lawachurl giving a gruff hum of approval.

Smiling at them (Y/n) nodded their head before a sharp pain shot through their head and flashes of scenes and people’s faces flooded their vision before suddenly stopping. “So…I’m still connected to my earth consciousness….this will be helpful..they seem to still be playing the game…what a wondrous way to tell the future…”

Rubbed their forehead as the headache subsided they sighed in exhaustion. They told the creatures they were going to rest for a bit, making sure the small slime was back with the others for its safety. They then moved to a cliff edge of the ruin that was up high facing the border of Liyue and Mondstadt as they took a meditative position.

“I’ll rest here for a hours and try to contact Paimon…the little fairy should have felt my arrival…and I can only hope she’ll help Aether reach the summit soon…” They then closed their eyes letting the tiredness over take them as they fell a dreamlike state, though they were still aware of their surroundings incase their attention was needed.

“Just a bit more….then we will reunite my dears…”

#am i a god? neat #creator is gender neutral #creator is old #creator is the twin's parent #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #sagau #this is heavily self indulgent #traveler is aether #Polaris a screen guardian #I'll get more into that later I promise #Help me story is getting out of hand #I need to make a taglist a masterpost and a story breakdown #who’s that pokémon #yes i added an actual pokemon this time because its one of my all time favorites

[luv-tiffanyblue]

Prologue

Synopsis: She was a lady born into French royalty and the royal court where she was highly beloved, only to meet her end at a young age and became a forgotten figure to history. The end she met became her stroke of fate as she was given a second chance to live again, forever. This is the story about (Y/n) De Auclair’s life where her new life gave her an adventure with a family and love that she never thought she would gain.

↳Jasper Hale x OC! Reader

Word count: 3k (3,055) words

Taglist: currently open; 5/10 positions (will be added more if more people are interested)

Content warnings: blood mentioned, drinking/ hunting for blood mentioned, Jasper feeling weird, & that’s all, but let me know if I missed any!

Moulage pt.3 ⚜️ Masterlist ⚜️ Chapter 1: Il Était Une Fois

Winter.

A period of quiet reflections and new beginnings of a new year as an old year ends.

The season is associated and centered with darker topics than the rest of the others. The cold and dark are the main symbols of the winter with despair seen as the last symbol. Usually, it can also be viewed as survival and the end of life as many living beings die or prepare to survive the harsh season to live to see gentle spring.

However, many may see it as a warning of their loneliness arriving soon. Not having anyone to enjoy the events that occur in the winter and having to be alone. Which might make them feel the longline with the view of seeing those around them be happy.

The winters in New York were known for their soft powdery snow that if it was picked up, would fall like pixie dust from your hands. The city’s snow had the purest white color out of all the states as it hails from their sky. From their sky, formed fluffy white clouds that were now a light gray, glooming over the state in exchange to produce their pure snow. And with that, it’s how the people of the city begin to change their daily routine from summer to winter.

Once the first snowfall lays on the ground, that's when the people of New York exchange their thin clothing for thicker clothes and the holiday festivities start. Every inch and corner of the city was to be covered by snowfall, as December started. Leaving their crystal water lakes and ponds to become frozen and turned into ice rinks for the people to enjoy. Snowmen with tophats and carrot noses start to appear on the sidewalk and parks, greeting those who walk by. Hot chocolate stands start to pop up around neighborhoods making the children beg their parents to buy them a cup.

However, the most popular and well-known holiday activity to do once early December hits is to watch the Nutcracker. It had become one of the favored Christmas time activities once it became introduced in the 1940s. The city was known for its performing arts and theater centers, so of course, the nutcracker was a new performing arts event that had now been added to the city's list. Almost every family tries to see it every year allowing ballet companies to extend show dates. Even travelers from different states come to New York to see it as there was a high chance no company there will host it.

Coming down from the upper north was a trio, a group of nomad vampires that contained two males and one girl. With one of the males being the mate of the girl. The three of them traveled not far to enter the city, wearing light winter clothing on their bodies compared to the New Yorkers. They got glances from the people as they walked by due to that, but the cold does not bother them as being a vampire and dead contributes to that factor.

The group of vampires was in the city for one reason only, which was to watch The Nutcracker, and then they could go back home. The only woman in the group, Charlotte, had convinced the two to watch the ballet as a way to celebrate the holidays. Of course, Peter, her mate, and Jasper, her close friend, had agreed to make her happy, which they did. As it was now why the trio was walking through the streets of New York City to the theater.

"It's up ahead on the street,” Charlotte exclaimed, gripping her mate’s hand tightly that making him wince. She picked up her pace to walk faster, dragging Peter with her who cannot take her excitement. As it is why, he hasn't said a word about her grip on him, so he wouldn't make her replace her excitement with guilt.

Peter looked behind him to lock eyes with his best friend, Jasper, as a way to plead with him to use his powers over Charlotte. He did love her and her excitement for the activity that they were going to do, but he could only handle so much of her. It was a way to calm her down before she would accidentally expose her abilities as a vampire due to her excitement. As well as Peter who was being treated as a rag doll by her the entire time of walking to the water with Jasper slightly behind them.

Jasper’s red eyes looked back at his friends with a hidden amusement behind them and a small smile on their faces. He just shook his head no to the side as his friend's antics entrained him. He did not want to be scolded by an angry Charlotte since she would know that he used his power on her. The reaction of Peters's face dropped at his answer made him let out a small chuckle from his lips with Peter not as amused as him.

And right before the trio’s eyes was the magnificent Palace theater located in the middle of the City. The Nutcracker's name was displayed out front of the building with the flashing bright lights lit up around it. People were dressed up in their formal evening wear as the sun had begun to set and were entering the venue. It made the three feel a little undressed, but they didn't care either way.

Charlotte began to walk towards the theater like a child in a candy store with Peter in hand as the giant lollipop.

While Jasper had a slower pace while walking to enjoy the scenery of the city as it was his first time there. His eyes roamed through the sights, the buildings, and the entire area around him until something caught his eyes. it was the ballet's official poster plastered onto the wall to show off to any on-lookers or to those that pass by.

The poster showed a single ballerina dressed in an icy blue-pink outfit and pink pointe shoes on her feet. A large award-winning smile appeared on her face as her light-colored eyes stared to the side. Her entire body was supported on one-pointed foot with the other behind her at a 90-degree angle and her arms reaching out. Above her body read the New York City Ballet company that represents Nutcracker with the dates, but it did not include who was the dancer on the poster.

Jasper could not help but felt intrigued by the poster that show the ballerina. He felt some type of feeling inside his body that he could not put his finger on and describe.

Expect, it might just be his hunger warning him to feed soon as he is surrounded by humans whose blood is pumping through their bodies. It also does not help that the ballerina has her neck stretched out showing her pale white skin that seems to glisten under the poster. It made his mouth somewhat water at the sight of her neck.

Yup. Jasper has to go hunting after this event with Charlotte and Peter. His hunger would probably get worse over time later, but he only gets that feeling when looking at the poster. He shook off that feeling when he heard Charlotte from afar saying his name, thanks to his vampire hearing.

“Jasper! Come on! We have to go inside and find our seats,” Charlotte quickly explained, still excited about the ballet even as they stood outside the venue.

Peter smiled moving his head towards the theater as a way to tell his friend to hurry up. He's also still in his mate’s tight grip as he just wants Jasper to catch up, so they could go inside and be free once they sit down.

Jasper looks forward to where the couple is and smiles at them. When he walks away from the poster, he could not help but felt weird letting go of that feeling he had. It felt sudden for it to go away quickly once he looked away and took one step back from it. The occurrence and feelings had slightly disturbed him but left it alone as he goes to keep up with the others.

The trio had entered the venue that was covered in Christmas and snow-related decorations as it was now the holidays. They were amazed by the popularity and cheer it brought to people while walking through the crowd. The inside contained a sea of people who were entering and leaving the restrooms or theater. It was rather a tight squeeze to navigate through for the three but they were able to go towards the theater and found their seats easily thanks to an available seat attendant.

Once they were seated and comfortable, they stared around the theater taking in the view as everyone started to get into their seats. Their view was perfect from where they were sitting, the seats were in the middle of the theater on the floor. It allowed them to set their eyes on the stage which was centered perfectly in the middle with no one's head blocking any one of them. Not to mention, their sight was enhanced as well due to being a vampire. Therefore, allowing them to see the stage in perfect vision with every detail noticeable to their deep red-colored eyes.

Charlotte's eyes could not help but stare at everything inside the theater and the stage. The scenery was completely new to her as she has never seen anything like this even before turning. "Isn't this place just beautiful to look at?“ loudly sighed the woman whose shoulders moved down from her question. "It is just gorgeous to look at,” Charlotte said, before adding, “even though we are a tad underdressed for this event.” Her hand slid down from Peter's upper limb to his forearm, slightly squeezing it while her eyes moved away from the stage and then to the other two.

That brought the two’s attention from what they were staring at to now her. They mentally agreed with her being underdressed, but they didn't care either way.

Jasper made a small hand gesture towards their surroundings commenting, “I do have to admit that I've never been in a place like this when I was with Maria."

"I've seen places like this in newspapers, but now I'm able to experience it. And with you two,” Peter added, patting Jasper's shoulder and squeezing his lover's thigh gently. He looked at Jasper due to him not leaving the Mexican coven not long ago and haven't been exposed much. So, he had to ask, “are you doing alright? Especially, with the huge crowds of people.”

Jasper gave him a small smile before answering, “I'm alright. Probably might have to hunt later after this." However, he didn't have the need or feeling to hunt for the next few days but just in case something might happen.

Peter nodded and was going to answer, but the music started to play aloud from the orchestra pit allowing the notes to fill the room. Which made Charlotte tug on his sleeve and her finger on her lips to hush the two. Their attention went towards the giant red curtain on stage as they wait for it to be drawn up.

The music began to reach the people's ears making their voices die down along with the mutters until it went completely silent. Now, the only thing being heard in the room was the music of the Nutcracker being played. The curtain was now being drawn up allowing the audience to see the set of the stage as the Nutcracker has officially now begun.

The Nutcracker in Jasper's opinion was that it was wonderful and entertaining to watch. Expect, the show just finished its first act which was about 40 minutes to an hour long, before they announced a short ten-minute intermission before they would move on to act two. It allowed the audience a small break to sneak in a stretch from sitting down or buying a snack before the show resumes again.

A couple of the trio had gone to see if any items of the show were being sold while Jasper stayed in his seat. He did enjoy the dancers and the show, but he could not get over the feeling from earlier. His body wanted to feel that urge and emotion he felt when he stared at that poster. He knew that he would be bothered about this until he could figure out what is happening.

As Jasper was deep into his thoughts, an announcement was made stating that the show would start soon and would like people to get back to their seats before the curtains are drawn back up. He noticed his friends coming back from the outside to where he was as the audience began to fill back up. And he began to mentally prepare himself for act two of the Nutcracker with how long it would be before another break was given.

Expect, a certain presence had appeared in his surroundings that he did not notice earlier and now sensed in the building. The presence was not quite strong around him, but he could feel it and wanted to just hunt it down. However, he could not just drop his plans with his best friends and leave early in the show. Jasper could only hope that the presence would stay until the end of the show and he could track the being with that presence.

The giant red curtains had drawn back up showing a now decorated land of sweets with the dancers in different costumes and the music playing loudly as ever. Everything was wonderful as Clara and the prince appeared again and the people welcomed him back with Clara. Multiple dances were being performed Jasper noticed the presence from earlier now became stronger.

He looked down at the booklet given to him earlier that contains the performances in the acts and started to go through them. His blood-red eyes went past act one towards act two seeing that the Waltz of the flowers was more than halfway done. A pas de deux dance next contains a guest soloist appearance as one of the important roles, the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Jasper looked back up noticing the waltz of flowers had finished with the music now changing into the iconic Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. The corps de ballet had moved back slightly from the center with smiles still on their faces. While Clara and the prince haven't moved and only looked in the direction of a new performer coming on stage.

The fairy's Cavalier had now appeared on stage where he smiled with his hand out to the side where he had come out of. This made everyone look to where his hand was reaching out to. A small pale hand reached out to the Cavalier’s hand, grasping it which allowed him to walk forward out to the center stage. He guided the person out behind him to show the one and only, Sugar Plum Fairy.

As they made it to the center of the stage, the two began to dance together to the music being played.

He noticed that the presence had become the strongest yet with a scent now appearing to his senses as it filled his nose. A soft, sweetly fresh aroma of white raspberries being freshly picked, daisy petals that are plucked, and a hint of sugar base musk pulled Jasper in. As soon as that fragrance hit him, all he wanted to do was pull that person with the scent towards him and hug them. it made his eyes almost black and roll back due to the feeling as the aroma did not help him.

When he got out of his trance, his red eyes located the owner of that intoxicating aroma and it landed right at the Sugar Plum Fairy. She had gorgeous (h/c) hair pulled back into a middle bun that was decorated in sparkles and a crown on top. it exposed her extended pale neck candy necklace wearing as a large smile appeared pink colored lips that reached her golden eyes. Her body had a beautiful handmade icy blue tutu with pink accents shown on the bodice and tutu.

Her skin seemed to sparkle brightly underneath the stage lights with every movement onstage. Her feet had on pointe shoes that looked to be new as she stood on the box of them, separating way from her cavalier. She became the diamond of the entire production as her partner went beside her to hold her waist to guide her.

Her features had away Jasper's attention the moment his eyes met her body and it never left her movements. When she extended any part of her body, it created the illusion of her being taller. The way she smoothly did the movements of the dance across the stage made it seem like it was easy to do. Especially, as if she had done it in her entire life just doing this single role. No mistakes could have been made with her being cast and only seemed perfect to the audience. Everything that the ballerina had done seemed flawless while captivating the audience, especially Jasper.

The entire time, the fairy was on stage, his eyes would not leave her, whether it be standing on stage or dancing he would only stare at her. He felt that if he looked somewhere she would leave and leave the faint smell of her scent behind. Inside, he knew that she would become important to him which was why his eyes were glued to her.

It was time for the final bows as every performer had bowed in order of their appearance. The only one left was the Sugar Plum Fairy as she walked to the front and went on one knee to the side, bowing deeply. The audience cheered loudly at her sight with Jasper standing up for her as he clapped loudly. While not moving his eyes away once.

As she moved her head back up, her golden eyes scanned the audience, only to meet blood-red eyes in return, right as the curtains were drawn back down.

Moulage pt.3 ⚜️ Masterlist ⚜️ Chapter 1: Il Était Une Fois

Fun facts:

Charlotte had to beg Peter and Jasper for weeks to see this ballet since November and the two agreed within the first week of December. (They cave in once she became very upset and acknowledged her weeks of asking).

Every poster (the one Jasper had seen) had to be hand painted after getting off the press where they had to match (Y/n)’s skin tone and paint over any of her skin showing as those parts seemed to be sparkling too much from the lights and flashes that it seemed to be too much for the eyes. No one could figure out had to fix it, even with the lighting until one suggest this idea.

Peter and Charlotte noticed Jaspers gaze at the poster and wondered why he was frozen like that, but they knew it wasn’t his thirst, so it had to be something else. *spoiler* they will later realize why after the show (this will be later written in the series, but not sure when)

Charlotte's begging to see the ballet is actually based off from a real life event experience that the author,Luvblue, had did where she begged her dad to see Sleeping Beauty the ballet with cousins which he would later agree to let her and brought the tickets.

A/n: Yay, the prologue is done no I hope you’re satisfied with it! The original idea for the prologue came from a fun fact I was going to publish, but transformed it into the prologue. As well as saying that updates will be very slow due to my writing process and other personal stuff (school and family and etc) that would take a majority of my time. I hope you enjoy the fun facts and the series so far!

Disclaimer: ©luv-tiffanyblue 2022 rights reserved-please do not repost/translate/modify/copy my work on other platforms unless changed in rules! Please look at my info about my other writing platforms!

🏷 : @superkittywonderland @darlincvllen @xcharlottemikaelsonx @xanniestired666 @who-actually-cares-anymore

#x reader #jasper cullen #jasper cullen x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight series #twilight story #twilight x reader #flaneur⚜️ #flaneur⚜️ taglist #series: flaneur #flaneur⚜️ series #series: flaneur⚜️ #flaneur #ballerina! reader #ballerina reader #vampire #twilight fic #twilight scenarios #Jasper hale fanfic #jasper hale x y/n #Jasper Cullen x y/n #Jasper Whitlock x y/n #twilight x y/n

[thelittlestspider]

a couple of sbsfg excerpts from today's writing session

warnings: gore, blood, disturbing imagery, implied violence, implied cannibalism.

taglist: @rosesonneptune.

Odile dreamed she was back in the catacombs. It was dark save for a few flickering candles. Somehow, the light only made the shadows seem darker, emphasizing the lack of light. Odile feared whatever hid there.

Time seemed to stop as she stood there in the dim candlelight, shivering from the cold stone hallway. Skulls grinned at her from the walls, jeweled eyes burning red in the half-darkness.

A shuffling sound came from the end of the hallway. Odile stared with wide eyes, sweating even in the frigid cold as whatever was coming shuffled closer and closer in the dark. Odile's lips trembled.

What looked like a human figure limped forward into the light. Odile screamed. It was a girl covered in blood, her limbs twisted and broken. Chunks of her flesh had been bitten off or cut out, exposing her insides. Her hands and one of her feet had been cut or violently torn off, the stump of her left foot dragging along the floor, leaving a trail of blood smeared behind it. She looked as if she'd been mauled by animals. But the worst was when she finally raised her face, letting Odile see it through her tangled black hair.

It was Marianne. Someone had cut out her eyes and her tongue, blood oozing down her face as she cried and wailed, reaching blindly for Odile. Odile took her in her arms, weeping for her friend.

"Marianne," cried Odile, over and over.

....

(this is scripted right now)

[Odile stares into Marianne's eyes, her own wide with fear. She grasps Marianne by her shoulders.]

Odile: Marianne, don't go out alone. It isn't safe.

[Marianne looks concerned.]

Marianne: What happened?

Odile: I had another dream. Something's coming for you, and I can't stop it. [Tears run down her face.] I can't protect you. I can't protect anyone.

Marianne: Odile...[She hugs Odile.] I promise I won't go out alone. [She strokes Odile's hair soothingly.]

[Odile prays it will be enough.]

#st bernedine's school for girls tag #i can't remember if anyone else wanted to be on the taglist for this story #but if you do just message me