#also might release some more oc content soon

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[yoonia]

foreword: 2024

Still here and writing ✍️

Happy New Year 2024!! 

First of all, I want to take this chance to thank everyone for all of their love and support. I know that I am barely present as of late, due to life getting in the way of my love for writing and being emotional for watching the boys enlisting. But thanks to you who are still following me and the new ones who have just found me, you became the reason why I’m still here and sharing my content with you all. 

Last year was rough for most of us. I witnessed a lot of authors stepping back due to having creative blocks or having big changes in life and priorities. I know because I had my own struggles throughout the year 2023. From losing my dearest pet, to moving to a new place and taking time adjusting, starting a new job, and I’ve also been busy planning for new things that I’ll be starting this year. Watch out for some good news that I’ll be sharing soon!

Though I might be busy with other endeavours, I will still be writing. My absence might get a bit more prominent at the start of the year, but I promise I’m not going anywhere. You might see me reorganising some stuff (my blog, Patreon, ko-fi) as I’m making changes here and there to create a more comfortable creative space for myself. I’m also determined to finish some of my long-awaited series, release some fic commissions that I finished last year but have yet to publish, and perhaps bring back some stories that are readers’ favourite.

As always, you can follow my writing progress and journey through my Schedule Post and my writing journal which you can find on Patreon. And for a bonus, you can take a sneak peek of the stories that I’m working on below. Just so you’ll know what to expect in the near future. 

Until then, 

Xoxo Dia

!!Bonus: Sneak peeks of my upcoming WIPs!!

⟶ Title | Alpha’s Inferno ⟶ Pairing | Namjoon x OC/female original character ⟶ Genre | Vampires!au, Werewolf!au, Alpha!Namjoon, Vampire!OC, Smut, Angst⟶ Summary | Alphas can only be stronger with a mate. Losing his Destined had almost sent Namjoon into the wilderness, to an illness known to shifters as the Mating Sickness. Fighting his illness, the Alpha continues to lead his pack of misfits all on his own since. Facing betrayals, living constantly with distrust, losing his allies, and finding his own pack slowly crumbling into disarray as he slowly succumbs into his sickness. But the war has turned enemies into allies, and hate becomes love, and he wasn’t completely ready to find the Moon Goddess giving him a second chance to find love in the form of the being that he had once distrusted the most.⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature

read teaser here

⟶ Title | Flux: Blindsided - from Flux! the series, final instalment ⟶Character | Yoongi x reader x Jungkook ⟶Genre | Polyamorous!AU, Smut, Angst ⟶Summary | Yoongi never knew that he did not only take your heart and soul when he walked out the door, but Jungkook’s as well. He had left the two of you behind by making you both believe that he was giving things up all due to his fear and insecurities. Little do you know that nothing is truly that simple. And it never really would. ⟶Ratings & Warnings | +18/Mature

read teaser here

⟶ Title | The Whispers in The Mist⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶Genre | Ghost!Yoongi, Reincarnation au, Angst, Mystery, Smut ⟶ Summary | He first came to you through your dream, luring you to find him, only to always wake up with his shadows fading with the rising sunlight. But when you can still feel his presence in the daylight, when you keep finding traces of his existence wherever you look, you start to wonder if perhaps he is more than just an object of your lucid dream. Perhaps what you have been seeing at night are your forgotten memories, and he is finally here to help you unravel every part of it, until you could finally remember who he really was.   ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; Dark topic, sacrilege, explicit sex scene (more warnings will be added as I continue writing this)

Teaser available on Patreon!

⟶ Title | G.H.O.S.T: The Hacker’s Tale — Carousel side story ⟶ Pairings | Hoseok x OC/female reader (feat. Yoongi/Jungkook) ⟶ Genre | Hacker!Hoseok, Assassin!reader, Detective!Jungkook, CEO Yoongi, angst, suspense, mystery ⟶ Summary | Always have an escape plan. Jung Hoseok has always been the curious boy, too smart for his own good, and has lived on the edge for as long as he could remember. Living in the shadows, he had operated under the name “G.H.O.S.T” and nobody had ever managed to catch his trail. All except for one man, who had not only given him a chance for redemption, but also a reason for him to survive, and you, the shadow that he had overlooked for a long time, but always ready to come out into the light before he gets far too deep into his own darkness.

Teaser 1 is available on Patreon; read teaser 2 here

⟶ Title | Bad For You: Undercover - A Spin-Off ⟶ Character | Taehyung x reader ⟶ Summary | They say only the strongest women can love men like him. You thought you could take the challenge, but what happens when life and everything around you challenge you back? ⟶ Genre | Stripper!au, Stripper!Taehyung, Smut, Angst, Mature theme ⟶ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

⟶ Title | Nefarious; In Motion - a side story ⟶ Character | Jimin x reader | note: with POV changes ⟶ Summary | Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life. For the past year you have been a member to the club, never once had they failed to help you indulge in your deepest and darkest need, the desire to embrace a part of you that you had never been able to show anyone else before. Tonight, however, you are met with a disappointment when your arranged ‘date’ had bailed on you. But just as you are ready to turn away in defeat, you cross path with the lovely attendant whose gentle gaze and soft smile have always been able to make you fluster more than any dates you have been with. You know that accepting his offer might cause some inconveniences for both of you, but do you really have it in you to say no?⟶ Genre | Sex Club!au, Gentlemen Club!au, Smut⟶ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

read teaser here

⤑ taglist | feedback

— © 2024 @yoonia​, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Changes afoot

Day 3 prompts: Family | Loyalty

For: @silmarillionepistolary

Rating: General Audience

Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Nerdanel, Maglor

Epistolary format: Journal entries and letters

Themes: Soft | Fluff | Hints of Russingon

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Summary: Fingon writes to Maedhros telling him to expect a visitor. A feast is held in honor of this guest, and both Maedhros and Maglor write their observations of what takes place before and after it begins. Maedhros later writes to his mother about their new guest, and his fears about his father.

A/n: OC name meaning

Indilien, wife of Maglor - Indil (Lily) | ien (suf. feminine ending; feminine patronymic).

This is also available on AO3

Letter from Findekáno to Nelyafinwë

249th day of Y.T. 1492.—

Beloved,—

I trust I have not wounded you by my delay in sending this letter, for my tasks have been many of late. Father cloisters himself often with my uncle, talking, but I fear such talk will bear little fruit. My uncle has grown weary of the many quarrels between your father and mine; he wants no part in them, and I am beginning to think he is wise to keep away. My mother, however, is afraid. She believes this all portends to some dark and terrible doom that is yet to reveal itself, but my father does his best to comfort her, saying all will be well in the end. Perhaps he is right, but my mother’s words weigh heavily on my thoughts. What if she is correct and my father is wrong? What if there is something dark and dreadful hiding in the shadows, biding its time until it is ready to consume us all? I try not to think too much about such matters, and I will write no more on them. Morgoth’s lies have already poisoned what we once had, and I will not give him the power to taint what we have slowly begun to rebuild. 

The cherry trees are in full bloom. My mother’s garden is aflame with brilliant little white flowers. Soon, that white will give way to crimson fruit. Do you remember, my love, how we would lie beneath those flowers while the others were away? How we admired the stars and talked and laughed and loved each other without a care in this world? I still go to those trees and lie beneath their laden branches. I think of your hand over mine, your lips warm against my own. I try to make myself content with the memories of you and me, but I find it is not enough for me. I will try anyway and bear up as much as I can until your father is released from his exile and I can take you into my arms again.

Yours in all things,

Finno.”

P.S.—My love, pray do not allow your heart to grow troubled when you find this letter being borne to you on swift wings. A change is afoot, and whether it is for good or bad, I cannot say. A visitor rides for Formenos even as I write this letter, and you will see them standing before the gates of the great keep your family calls home soon enough.

Letter from Nelyafinwë to Findekáno

251st day of Y.T. 1491.—

Beloved,—

I am not wounded in the least, my love, by the delay in your last letter. You are your father’s oldest, his heir. You cannot shirk your duties toward your family; it is something I understand. I must confess, your forewarning has roused my curiosity as to who this visitor might be, but I will not press you for more on their identity. We will learn of it soon enough, and we have room enough to spare in Formenos for a great many people. I hope my father will be pleased with this intrusion into our lives. Few things bring him joy now, save for us and the hallowed jewels. Forgive me for not writing more on this score. Fëanáro is my father after all, and he would not think highly if I revealed too much of his struggles to you.

I, too, think of the blissful moments you and I spent beneath the branches of those cherry trees. Sometimes, I sit by the window of my bedchamber and look at the sky and the many stars that adorn it. I think of the stars you and I would try to name whenever we caught sight of one we had not seen before. Then I wonder if you are looking at the heavens at the exact same moment as I am and if you are looking at the same stars as I am. I feel your absence so keenly, my love. I cannot rest or eat, or set my eyes on any task; you are a constant in my thoughts. I will try to endure our separation as much as I can until this dreadful exile is over and we can see each other again. Pray do not allow yourself to be troubled by talk of dark portends and signs of doom. Morgoth’s treachery has been exposed, and we are whole and well. Once we are reunited, I intend to show you that you had no cause for fear.

Written by the hand of he who loves you,

Nelyo.

Maitimo Nelyafinwë’s journal

258th day of Y.T. 1491— Just as my beloved wrote in his letter,a visitor rode up to the gates when Telperion reached his greatest bloom. It was grandfather, no less. He decided to come to Formenos and live with us after father sent him word of its completion. Other members of his household, his steward and household guard, and other servants mostly came with him.

Father was delighted. “Our family is now complete again!” He cried and embraced his father, our king. “Just as it should be! Come, my lord. Come with me, and I will take you to your chambers, so you can rest.”

Grandfather was just as pleased, though I thought it all rather strange. He left his queen and their children in Tirion and followed my father into exile. True, his other children were all grown and they were no longer elflings in need of a father’s guiding hand, but it still left a strange taste in my mouth to see grandfather leaving his other family behind so easily. And it must have wounded Uncle Arakáno to see my grandfather choose my own father yet again. Still, I kept my own counsel; now was neither the time nor the place for such questions. It would darken everyone’s mood—my father’s chief of all. Nevertheless, I will still listen to what they say; perhaps I will hear something useful.

Father commanded that we have a great feast in honor of grandfather’s arrival. There would be fine wine and delicate pastries, roasted deer and boar, and even fish caught from a nearby lake. Káno and his bride will sing and play the harp for us. Our little songbird and his wife, the Lady Indilien, ensconce themselves in their chambers, composing music and a series of verses in honor of the occasion. Once, I stopped by the door to listen. Káno was singing, and his lady strummed the harp for him while he did so. What I heard moved my heart in a way I could not imagine. My brother truly is the most gifted among minstrels—he is an elf who could rival the Vala ómar himself. 

His skill with the sword also improves. I teach him as much as I can; one never knows when one will need the use of one, now that Morgoth has escaped and returned to Endorë. During the first mingling of the lights, we make our way to the sparring yard before our other brothers have even opened their eyes, and engage in swordplay. Lady Indilien often joins us, but only to watch. My sister-by-marriage has little interest in hunting and fighting; music and singing are her greatest delights. She keeps herself content by sitting on the side and cheering for her husband. Káno made a wise choice, I think, by taking the lady to be his wife. She is patient and uncommonly kind, traits my brother desires greatly. I pray their marriage will be a happy one and that no misfortune darkens their doors. Now I must set aside my quill and ink. The hour of the feast is almost at hand, and I must prepare myself for it. 

Makalaurë Kanafinwë’s journal

259th day of Y.T. 1491— The feast was splendid. Everyone dressed in their finest robes, and even Tyelko conducted himself in a manner befitting a lord of high birth and rank for once. The cooks surprised us all by setting a tasty table. There were rich stews, soft bread, and fresh fruit, as well as meat and mead and wine for anyone who desired them. Father said little. It displeased him to hear that my uncle Arakáno now rules Tirion as its regent, for it was supposed to be him ruling in grandfather's stead, not his half-brother. Nevertheless, his mood revived not long after. Grandfather joining us in exile cheered him in no small measure. Perhaps he thinks that this is yet another victory over my uncle, another sign of how he will be first in grandfather’s eyes even when he is in exile, even after he threatened my uncle’s life. I like it not. Strife within our family grows day by day, and I fear it bodes ill for us all. My lady urges me to take no part in the quarrels of others. Alas! If only I could do such a thing. Fëanáro is my father. He is my father, and I love him just as much as I love my mother. I must, however, hold onto the hope that he will free himself of his anger and resentments and that our family can be whole again once this dreary exile of ours is at an end. Now I must go. There is something father wishes to show all of us. 

Letter from Nelyafinwë to Nerdanel

261st day of Y.T. 1491.— 

Beloved mother,—

We were told of uncle Arakáno’s change of station. Pray offer him felicitations on my behalf, and tell him I wish him nothing but success.

Mother, you will be pleased to hear that grandfather arrived safely and that all is well with him. There was a splendid feast. Káno sang for us, as did Lady Indilien. You should have heard them. They sounded so sweet together. Everyone cheered and asked them to sing and play for us again. The day after the feast, father took us to the cave that was found during the building of Formenos, and threw open high, iron doors to reveal a great vault. 

“After toiling many a day, it is now finished,” he declared with a great flourish, and he led us inside. Father had labored over the vault in secret, and none of us witnessed its transformation until he opened the doors for us. I wish I could write more on its many aspects, but father forbade us from doing so. Forgive me for saying this, mother, but father’s sense of mistrust has deepened even more. He bid Lady Indilien to wait outside while he brought forth the silmarils. Káno was ill at ease with this, for father’s wish sounded more like an order and less like a kindly appeal one would make to another. Still, he held his tongue, perhaps for his lady’s sake. Lady Indilien, however, did not seem to be offended by father’s command. 

“It is quite all right, my love,” she said, squeezing Káno's hand. “I am content to wait outside.”

After she took her leave of us, father revealed the hallowed jewels. They were as glorious as always, and their radiance was a wonder to behold.

“My greatest work,” father said, lifting them one by one for us to admire. Each jewel glittered like they possessed the light of a thousand stars, and their light shone like gold and then silver, and they bewitched us all with their beauty. “They must be guarded at all times, for never again shall I make anything to match their likeness and glory.”

We admired them one final time before father returned them to their secret chamber. The vault felt strangely darker in their absence, and the air grew a little colder. Then father rejoined us, and we departed.

Write to me when you can, mother. I long to hear more from you and of the great city I once called home.

Your son,

Nelyo.  

Letter from Nerdanel to Nelyafinwë

263rd day of Y.T. 1491.—

My son.—

The days seem to last longer here in Tirion. Perhaps it is because I am here, and you are all in Formenos. I miss you all so very much, but it heartens me to know your father is not alone, and you are all with him.

I rejoice to hear that Lord Finwë is safe and that his journey was without trouble. I have also passed on your kind words to your uncle; it lightened his heart to hear them. His task is not an easy one; the lies and false counsels of Lord Morgoth hold sway over many hearts, and discontent is still strong. We help him as much as we can to ease the many burdens that have been placed on his shoulders.

Queen Indis has taken her place as one of my students, and she is proving herself to be an apt pupil. We spend many wonderful hours together, and I am pleased to claim her as a friend.

As for your father, pray do not take his actions and disposition to heart. Lord Morgoth’s lies brought about a profound change in many who gave an ear to his false counsels, your father most of all. Perhaps, with him no longer under the influence of Lord Morgoth’s words, your father’s nature will return to its former self. I will write to your brother and I will counsel him as best as I can. I am also glad Káno has Lady Indilien, and I am glad you can call her sister. Listen to her, my son, and take care of your father. Write to me about anything that troubles you, and I will do what I can to aid you even from afar.

Your loving mother,

Nerdanel

[dcstinyscdgc]

RULES

This is a multifandom, multimuse, and multiverse blog. It is also selective, mutuals only, but please message if you are a sideblog so I can follow you appropriately! This blog is also not spoiler-free, the only time I may be tagging spoilers if it's an episode by episode release of a currently airing show, so if this is a problem, this is not the place for you.

General roleplay rules apply here: don't godmod, don't steal and claim something as your own, don't be an asshole, please come directly to me if there is something I need to correct so I can fix the problem as soon as possible. Triggers will be tagged appropriately; my own trigger is excessively graphic gore. Personals, please don't interact with any of my content. Minors, please go hang out with others your age as entering the adult space at a young age isn't as fun as you think it is.

Those who are strictly unwelcome here: racists of any kind, people who think pansexually is biphobic, xenophobes, zionists, and antisemites.

Crossovers and OCs are my life blood, and are 100% welcome here! Even if I'm unfamiliar with the fandom, universe, or culture, please tell me all the details so we can get creative and mesh together the universes as roleplaying is a collaborative hobby meant to be shared and enjoyed. Please be patient with me when I ask questions or become confused, I'm doing my best and am just trying to understand.

Plotting of some kind is preferred when interacting, it doesn't need to be extensive but I may pop into your DMs to help get a feel or idea for memes or starters I owe you from time to time. This is just how I operate, if you have something you prefer, we can find what works for both of us. Also when it comes to interactions, as I have a lot of muses and that can become overwhelming, when you can please tell me who you want or otherwise I'll randomize.

I reserve the right to drop threads at any time. This does not mean I don't want to write with you, there is plenty of other reasons why a thread might be dropped. And I'm always open to having multipe threads at one time, I encourage it, it allows us to have a range of muse combinations and plot bunnies.

When it comes to shipping, I adore all forms of shipping. In cases of romantic and or sexual, I do ship based off chemistry. Even if that chemistry is the two of us thinking x character fits well with y character and making barbies kiss. If you think two (or more characters) work together well or you want to experiment with something, you are more than welcome to throw suggestions at me.

I'm Lins (26, she/her, central standard time), this blog will be low activity blog, however you can almost always find me if we're mutuals on discord. That is my primary form of contact over Tumblr IMs, but I will use those if that's what's comfortable for you. I'm neurodivergent, so my spoons and attention span are sometimes all over the place when I am online.

Many of the graphics on this blog have been made by the loml, @roscvcins, an absolute doll and I love her and what she makes so much.

[dexteritywins]

untitled || todoroki fluff

a/n : uh so i know almost everyone love character x reader or character x character so dont get mad when you find out its x oc. her quirk is called cosmic energy heres the desc i came up with

- allows user to take and store forms of energy such as light, sound and heat from their surroundings which is than stored in their hair. it can be released to used a weapon or to propel themselves. as long as they dont have too much taken energy in me my hair goes back to normal. and the user can also put stuff in their hair and it works like lions mane (steven universe)

content warning : cussing, it sucks at the beg and gets a little better, you might get secondhand embarrassment, i used ‘i’ super often, oc is aizawas (adopted) daughter like every mha oc

timeline : its like right after they move into dorms like barely a week

————————————————————————

“hey todoroki can i do something with you real quick?” i walk up to him as soon as i walk into homeroom. he looks up at me.  “do what?” i had already set my bag down at my desk, now im pulling out my phone so i can show him an example.

“its trend from like a long time ago, this video is from 2023 i believe. but i just feel like it be cool.” i show him the video and its a tiktok of the ‘you drew stars around my scars’.

“and im not forcing you or anything i just thought itd be cute or something.” i say putting my hand on the back of head. “sure.”

‘ah! what did i hear him right?’

“wait what?” being a bit shocked he said yes so quickly. i just have to double check, maybe even triple.

“i mean sure, do you have a pen or marker?”

“uhm yea i do,” i put my hand in my hair, my hair lighting up around where my arm is, looking for a pen, “got it!” its just a basic bic pen so its easy to wash off.

making sure one more time, “wait are serious fine with me like touching your scar and just your face in general?” triple check it is.

he gets out of his chair, “yes i am fine with it.” then he sits on the floor, waiting for me to follow suit.

‘oh i didnt think of sitting on the floor, i was just gonna pull up another chair but that works!’

i quickly sit in front of him, by now midoriya, denki, sero, yao-momo, and bakugo have shown up, not paying any attention to us. but tsu and uraraka are paying attention.

“can you like hold you hair up like this?” i lift my bangs on the left side of my face, todoroki just nods and does it, “thank you!”

“mhm”

i lift my hand to his face, barely cupping his cheek, guessing his face is so warm from his quirk. since the cap was already taken off my pen so i raised it up to his face and start drawing stars.

barely had drawn 5 stars, “woah are you guys kissing!?” denki practically yells, catching everyones attentions. they all practically run over to us.

everyone who is standing - everyone here by now, except bakugo - had gotten over here. “no we are not kissing, shes drawing stars on my face.” todoroki speaks as i continue my progress, my face getting a little red. 

“it was a trend in the 2020s, of an american song by taylor swift.” i explain a little, not focusing on if im right and instead concentrating on drawing, im not about to let myself mess up.

most of the girls just kinda watched as i continued and everyone went back to their conversations. at some point a got a little to close to his eye and in turn he shut them. “sorry”

“youre fine. it just feels weird like i wanna laugh.” but instead, pulling the pen away for a moment, i laughed, “so it tickles?” 

“i guess so.”

by the time i had finished i had drawn over 30 stars all over his scar. “ahh stop this literally looks so cute! can i take a picture to show you what it looks like?” todoroki just nods.

picking my phone up from beside me and take a considerably good picture, “looks good right?” i turn my phone to him. now i think he looks even better than usual but i dont have to say that.

he just stares at it for a minute and then slightly smiles, “yeah i guess it does.” i can practically hear all the girl melt at that. i take one more picture with him smiling, definitely favoriting that later.

“well if you wanna wash it off you can, you just have to use soap.” he doesnt even think about as he shakes his head.

“ill just wash it off in the shower.” at that, i thought i was gonna die. like hes gonna keep it on all day, i mean i would too but…

the tell tale sign of homeroom offically starting can be heard, the door to the room opening. in walks aizawa with midnight and present mic. we all rush to our seats. iida forgot to tell us homeroom was starting.

“today we are-“ aizawa sensei pauses as he looks up, “todoroki what is on your face?”

“stars, am i not allowed to have drawing on my face? i can go wash it off.” he moves to get up before our teacher starts again.

“no no youre fine i was just wondering why.” 

“oh because satomi-san had an idea.” then i can immediately tell present mic is trying not to laugh as aizawa quickly sends me a look, like hes mad.

i cover my face out of embarrassment, ‘oh, cant wait to go home.’ i cross my fingers hoping he doesnt chew me out once we go home.

“mhm. continuing…”

- lunch time -

iida had seem to forget about this morning. just all of our morning classes.“todoroki-kun what are those stars on your face?” 

me personally, i am dumbfounded, “were you not here this morning, in homeroom?” i quickly say before todoroki has a chance of answering. i apologize for cutting him off before the pro heros son could even start.

“what do you mean?” uraraka physically facepalms, then midoriya follows suit. “i was present in homeroom, i was the first one there.”

“todoroki-kun literally explained it at the very start of homeroom.” uraraka then explains in place of todoroki having food in his mouth.

once midoriya finished chewing his food he piped up, “can i see the video. i was gonna ask this morning but you were busy drawing.” i nod pull my phone out of my hair and show him and uraraka the video.

“oh so its like supposed to make people more comfortable or confident with their scars.” putting my phone back in my hair, i nod. “i also just thought it would make todoroki look even cuter.”

urarakas jaw drops, all eyes on me. then i slowly process what i just said. i can feel my whole face heating up, “i mean everyone knows todorokis’ attractive so its not like calling him cute is weird.” im just digging the hole deeper, someone needs to cover it now.

“ok let me try that again, i just mean that like i believe, at least, every girl in our class thinks he’s attractive. right ochaco-chan?” i pray that shes the same wavelength as me. she nods, thank god.

“and so just…” i dont even know what im saying at this point. raising my hands up to my face i say, “nevermind just take that how you want to.” beside me i hear hagakure giggle.

“someones blushing~” she teases. turning to her i give her the dirtiest looks i can muster right now, but since shes, yanno invisible, it goes straight to bakugo. “what was that for loser? hah?” 

i finished my food a while ago, taken my dishes back to the counter so in front of me theres a clear space. i just lean forward, letting my head practically slam on the table. 

“are you okay?!” uraraka paniced voice says. i just hold a thumbs up, then reach in my hair, once again, for some gum.

i make the wrapper into a heart and give it to - after playing a quick and unlucky round of enie menie miny moe - todoroki. i just know my whole face and neck is red, confidence is key here. i sit up and before i say anything, “are you sure youre okay? thats a big mark on your forehead?” todoroki points out, across from me.

“yup, mhm totally fine, excuse me.” i get up and as i do, bakugo looks up, immediately starts laughing his ass off. i flip him off and  walk to the bathroom. 

-bathroom -

‘literally what was that. now hes gonna think i have a crush on him and i definitely dont. at least i think, maybe, i dont know. why wont this go away?!’ im trying to get the red mark on my face to go away but it just wont.

the bathroom door opens, making this even better, in walks mina. “girl what are doing?” i turn around and show her the mark. “it wont go away. and then i called todoroki cute and attractive to his face.” i cover my face with my hands again. 

she wants over to me, put her hands on my shoulders, “youre joking.” 

“im really not. so series of events real quick. im at the table, iida asks what the stars on todorokis face are, i show midoriya the video i got the idea from, he point out the purpose and then i say that i thought it would make him looks cuter too, as hes sitting right in front of me, i try to give hagakure a look and end up doing to bakugo, then i slam my head on the table, made a gum wrapper heart and ended up having to give it todoroki.” i take a really deep breath. 

“damn girl,” mina quickly glances at my forehead, “well the mark is gone.” i lift my hand to feel it and yeah its gone.

“thank god, now i have to go back cause then midoriyas ass is gonna get worried.” the pinkette just laughs, “have fun!” 

before i walk out i remember something. “youre joking…”

“what?”

“me and todoroki are paired up today for training, im gonna start bawling my eyes out.” 

- lunch room -

“its gone” i say getting back into my seat. “the marks gone.” 

- end of the day, dorms -

sitting on the floor playing mario kart with kirishima, mina, and sero, im starting to get mad. “i swear to god! stop throwing green shells at me fuck faces!” another one hits me, yell just out of anger.

“what the fuck! why am i the only one getting fucked this is some bullshit, 12th place cause of you absolute losers!” they all laugh and i can hear denki laughing behind me. 

“no because all of you always target me, i swear to fuck! you all decide, yeah let just fuck satomi over all game! here you play!” i turn and shove the controller at the blonde behind me. 

staying in my spot, denki sits next to me, playing as my character. “you get one race, i need to calm down.” 

“uh-huh, works for me.”

i get up to, i dont even know. going to the kitchen, i might look for some snacks, and just stand their, staring at the fridge hoping something shows up. “you shouldnt leave that open, it wastes electricity.”

“u.a. is rich i think theyll be fine man.” i close the door and turn towards the voice i didnt really process, its midoriya. “hey. do you have snacks?” 

“huh?”

“do. you. have. snacks. i want some.” i lean my back against the counter, thinking of people who have snacks. well their all down here so cant get any from them. “no i dont think i do, at least any you would like.”

“do you have chips like just original any brand?” midoriya shakes his head. sighing i go back to the living room, “hand it over kaminari.” he pouts before giving my controller back.

soon enough - not even one race later - im raging again. “every single fucking time, im the only one getting fucked, over and over! kirishima stop! agh! WHAT THE HELL YOU ARE SUCH BITCHES!”

from all my yelling we’ve amasses a crowd, consisting of midoriya, denki, bakugo, jiro, tsu, tokoyami, and yao-momo. and at this point im standing.

“YOU MOTHER FUCKERS I SWEAR TO GOD! GO FUCK SOMEONE ELSE OVER! MINA YOU BITCH THE HELL!? AGHH YOU ALL FUCKING SUCK, YOU WAIT FOR ME TO GET IN 2ND OR 1ST THEN ALL FUCK ME! I HATE ALL OF YOU!” 

i had noticed some of my classmates watching but who i hadnt noticed was todoroki coming down here. “eijiro kirishima you best keep one eye open tonight, same with you sero. im gonna fuckin get ya i swear.”

“how long has this been going on?” 

“about 20 probably 30 minutes.”

the race had finally finished and overall i came 9th while in order kirishima, sero and mina in 1st, 2nd and 3rd. a noise of just pure anger comes from me as a throw my controller at the ground.

except i dont here it hit the ground and its weirdly cold now. i look down to see ice, it caught the controller from slamming on the ground and breaking. ‘youre fucking joking me right now’ i just stare straight ahead, not really hearing anything, tune all their laughing and talking out. im about to start crying if i dont calm down right now. 

trying to do my breathing, i can feel it getting a little hot then going back to regular temperature. i pull my hands to my face, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. “im done, denki you play or something.” i walk of to the elevator but i can hear footsteps behind me. ‘open faster dammit, ok, walk instead, yup lets go.’ quickly putting on my slides near the door, i walk out and just go on a walk. 

so theres this thing i do that if i get too mad i start crying, i know “youre a hero in training, you need to get that under control” but it just happens. by the time i get back to the dorms only the girls are left downstairs so i just go straight to my room. instead of being able to enter my room, todoroki is blocking my door.

[totally-not-my-drama]

Welcome to my total drama blog

Again welcome to my Total drama art blog. This blog is mainly meant for my Total drama content I am doing be it art, stoys, AUs, etc. Everything related to TD is placed here! You can also ask me about certain things be it headcanons, questions to AUs or other things TD or me related!

My AUs:

Total Drama Omori (TW: suicide, sh, blood, horror)

This AU, as the title says, is an Omori AU with total drama characters and me and my friend @ragefulbutsweet OCs! It's alot like the original Omori story, but has certain changes in general since everyone still pretty much acts like their original selfs, plus some relationships "changed" and there is a bit more content/ context in this version. There would also come sometimes in which I think more gameplay wise and explain it like it was a real videogame! The specific tags for this AU are 'Total Drama Omori AU' 'TDO' 'TDOAU'.

Ever After High AU (title and tags in progress):

This AU is still in it's concept phase and I dunno when I get to work on it more but I won't give up on it! This AU is basically total drama characters in the Ever after high roles. And I warn anyone already for those who do not like the ship: Yes this is a Noco focused AU with Noah in the main role. The story is more slice of life with the main Focus of Noah, at the beginning Noelle, figuring out he is actually trans. I am still working on the story's but stay tuned for more! The tags for this AU are Ever after high AU and Eahau

Pokemon AU:

This Au actually happened out of the blue ngl, while thinking how a game like this would look like! Anyway This AU takes basically almost, if not all TD Characters and turns them into Pokemon. The Region is named after the camp so it's the Wawanakwa Region (This feels werid to write XD). While still in planning this might become a Y/N Story, with the goal to become the next Pokemon master! This AU has the specific Tag Pokemon AU.

Story's:

A story I am currently writing on (And hopefully finish like I want to) Is called 'Curiosity kills cats' and is based around @eavee-ry 's Island of the slaughtered AU and is about my OC Edith going to the island to figure out if these ghosts are real or not. I won't say more it's a surprise and will be released when The chapters are all done!

Original Characters:

The first (and currently only fleshed out character) of mine is Edith. She was first made out of the IOTS AU and just after getting into TD more did I put her into more Canon TD stuff (which makes it more AU stuff in a way) Anyway Edith has a specific passion for finding and proofing if the ghost storys on the internet she sees, are truly real or not! She has a more closed of personality but is very polite and humble but easily gullible and naiv.

Tag lists:

Omori AU: total drama omori au, TDO, TDOAU

Ever after high AU: Ever after high AU, EAHAU

Pokemon AU: Pokemon AU

Storys I am write: storys, fanfictions, fanfic, writing

All my art together: my art, fanart

OC's: (OCs name), Original characters, OCs

any questions asked and answered: Stara Answers, asks

Headcanons: Headcanons

That is all so far. I will update this whenever something changes. Hope to see you soon again

[fang-and-feather]

Sweet Heat

Fandom: Star-Crossed Myth

Rating: Explicit

Categories: F/M

Pairing: Zyglavis/OC

Words: 2437

Prompt(s): Christmas treats sugar rush and "A kiss under the mistletoe doesn't have to be where we stop.", from the "’tis the season for love" content creation challenge hosted by @xxsycamore and @voltage-vixen

Summary: Zyglavis didn't expect his girlfriend's sugar rush from the Christmas treats she might have overindulged into would turn into a new intimate experience for them.

This is a loose follow-up to Feather's Recovering my Star's Shine but is also an independent fic

Busy as Feather was with a multi-chapter crossover, she's finished her main plans and I'm just now fnishing my first... But at least I finished it

Not many people thought sugar could be worse than alcohol to make people go crazy. Zyglavis knew that his usually calm girlfriend could become quite electric at times. He’d seen her so full of coffee that she threw herself at work and, when forced to take a break, decided to decorate the house for Christmas in July, all to escape the nightmares plaguing her. He’d also seen her drunk, becoming clingy, and a bit tired, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with Rinka so full of sugar, though.

Maybe he shouldn’t have left her under the ‘supervision’ of the others when it was obvious the other girls were too busy to pay attention and the other gods didn’t think Rinka needed to be watched over unless she spent more than five minutes talking only to Ichthys.

But it wasn’t like he could have left his work aside for longer than he already had. He had promised to accompany Rinka to the charity event she had gone to in the morning, so he had to finish his work in the afternoon before their date.

Zyglavis should have known something wasn’t right when the volume of the songs went up, or when he found Rinka playing cards with some of the other gods and Reina. She wasn’t fond of playing games that relied partly on luck instead of pure skills and, although occasionally noisy, she was never that loud. But how could he have imagined the amount of sugar she had consumed in a couple of hours? He’d only made sure she hadn’t been drinking.

Through their date, though, he began noticing the other differences in her behavior. Rinka was extra giddy, speaking faster and laughing louder and more affectionate than she ever was in public.

Which led him to ask, while they were walking back to the mansion, what she had eaten or drank before they left, mostly trying to figure if someone had handed her something they shouldn’t, or from someone he wouldn’t have trusted such generous behavior from. Her answer, though, was a long list of the sweets she had prepared the day before to share and, apparently, she had eaten more than her own share of it.

There was no problem, though, right? She hadn’t done anything stupid or too embarrassing. And it wasn’t like she was drunk, either. Rinka was still on her rational side, just a little more energetic and open. They were going back and she would run out of that extra energy soon, or she would have an overdrive and shut down, like when she was drunk.

With that mindset, Zyglavis was shocked when they opened the front door of the mansion and Rinka stopped, briefly looked up and, giggling, pulled him towards her. When he, in surprise, didn’t resist, she kissed him, hard.

Rinka was never both this proactive and aggressive, especially where anyone could walk in on them. So, when she released him, Zyglavis also looked up, to see someone had hung a mistletoe over the door, and he remembered one of the other girls telling someone about how human couples had the tradition of kissing under them.

“The others should be back by now. Are we joining the party?” She asked him. That would be hard with the way she hugged him and nuzzled to his chest. “Because your scent is making me crave a different kind of celebration that may not be entirely appropriate for Christmas.” She looked up at him with glossy eyes and a very seductive smile he’d never seen before. “So… if you want…” she looked down for a moment, releasing him and one of her hands immediately went fidgeting with the keychain on her belt for a few seconds, before she looked at him again, with a softer smile and flushed cheeks. “A kiss under the mistletoe doesn’t have to be where we stop.”

As she reached for him again, he held her with one hand around her waist and was the one to kiss her, while, with his free hand, he snapped his fingers, transporting them to his room.

Rinka felt the world spin, and when it came into focus, she was trapped between a wall and her boyfriend’s body. When she kissed him back, Zyglavis seemed to relinquish control, letting her dominate the kiss.

She would have shied away from such behavior if the extra energy from all the sweet treats she’d eaten wasn’t making her body respond to her brain faster than she could asses what it was telling her so, instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and, on her tiptoes, with the wall supporting her, deepened the kiss..

There was a snap and the click of a lock as Zyglavis made sure no one would bother them. Feeling more confident with the security, one of her hands slipped under his clothes to touch his back, feeling his body shiver under her touch. The other hand moved to unbutton his jacket.

“As hot as I find you in your uniform,” she whispered, trailing kisses over his face, “especially with it a little loose, clothes like this are so much easier to take off.”

They had to part a little for her to remove the rest of his clothes, but as soon as they were off her hands were back on him, exploring his skin, her mouth trailing right behind in tracing the lines of his muscles, sometimes with soft kisses, others times leaving small marks. A low, almost imperceptible groan escaped Zyglavis when Rinka teased his side with the tip of her tongue while her hands worked to undo his belt.

Rinka would have liked to take it slower, but the extra energy in her system and the sight of the bulge in his pants were making her quite impatient. The winter clothes she was wearing were growing uncomfortable with the increasing heat radiating from inside her, but she insisted on using her energy to please him.

While she struggled, in her haste, with the belt’s buckle, Zyglavis stopped her, holding her wrists with one hand, the other caressing her hair, then her cheek, before cupping her chin and making her look up at him.

“Aren’t you eager?” His tone and expression were teasing, but his touch was gentle. “I love the enthusiasm, but I have other plans for now. You can have whatever you want later, if you behave.”

“Behave?” She chuckled, standing up when he gave her wrists a gentle tug. “I’ll try. But if behaving includes staying still and following orders, I can’t guarantee much.”

His only answer was once again pushing her against the wall and kissing her, taking charge this time. One of her hands once again explored his back, while the other reached to release his hair from its usual ponytail, combing through the soft locks afterward. Zyglavis, usually quiet, nibbled at her bottom lip, stifling a louder moan. He would probably deny it if she pointed out how sensitive he was to her touching his hair. It usually made him relax, but when he was already heated, Zyglavis seemed to find it quite pleasing, in the more intimate sense.

Zyglavis removed her upper layers rather fast after that, leaving only her bra and tights, for which Rinka was very grateful. Her clothes had been getting quite suffocating. Despite his own haste at that part, Zyglavis’ next kiss was as gentle as his touch that mimicked the position of hers, with a hand gently tangled into her hair and the other sliding down her back and teasingly pulling at the band of her tights.

“Zyglavis…” whatever she tried to say got lost in a moan when le let go and the band snapped back in place. It stung, but not enough to be displeasing.

“You are quite loud already.” He whispered, placing kisses along the shell of her ear. “Do you want me that much?”

“You are just teasing me on purpose.” Rinka protested.

Zyglavis chuckled, pulling back to stare at her, but she refused to look at him. One of his fingers traced her lips, and Rinka noticed she was pouting.

“Forgive me, my love. But you are acting so different and look so lovely flustered. Don’t worry, I won’t tease you for longer.”

Kissing her again, Zyglavis picked her up and Rinka warped her arms around his neck and lags around her waist while he carried her to the bed, laying her on the mattress without breaking contact. When she didn’t let go, Zyglavis chuckled and snapped his fingers again to get rid of the rest of their clothes.

Rinka tried to stifle a moan at the sudden contact of their bare bodies but, failing to do so, ground against him playfully, getting a low groan out of him. In response, Zyglavis ran a hand up one of her thighs, letting his nails graze her skin, which made her arch further against him.

He tried to pull away, but she still had her body wrapped around his. Zyglavis stopped touching her as much as he could, though.

“I told you to behave, didn’t I?”

“But you also said you wouldn’t tease me!” Rinka was sure she was probably pouting again, but unwrapped her body from his.

“I am not. As long as you behave.”

“Why? Do you dislike when I am like this?”

“Dislike it?” Zyglavis kissed her, rougher than he’d done all night, until she was out of breath. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you? I love you in every way, but when you provoke me like that, I feel like I’ll lose control and demand more from you than your body can take.”

The mood had gone from hot to purely romantic, but that wasn’t a problem. Solving things like that before they got into anything would make sure that, when they were done talking, they could start again with lighter hearts and minds and focus more on each other.

Zyglavis laid on his side and hugged her to his chest. Rinka reveled in his warmth for a moment before looking him in the eyes.

“I know that I’m only human, so I don’t have the same energy that you have, as a god, not only for this. I know I need much more to take care of myself. Food; sleep; more frequent breaks from anything mental and physically exhausting, but I’m not that easily damaged either, Zyglavis. You can demand as much from me as you need. Maybe not every time, but once in a while and especially in especial days like this. The things we do shouldn’t always be about me, my comfort or my pleasure. So,” Rinka pulled back a little with a playful smile and started tracing random patterns on his chest with ghosting touches, “how about tonight you take advantage of my sugar rush and think about what you want from me? I could handle twice as much of what we usually do and am a little less prone to being nervous if you want to try something different. I promise you I’ll tell you if I ever feel it is too much. It will be my extra Christmas gift to you.”

Rinka moved her other hand to his thigh, close enough to notice his cock still hard despite the interruption. Good, because she was warming back up fast, too.

“Are you certain of your words? I would rather not start something if we’ll have to stop in the middle because you are too tired. Although I will listen if you need to.”

“I am.”

The moment she nodded, Zyglavis pulled her into another heated kiss, one hand holding her, the other first cupping one of her breasts, then moving to tweak her nipple, making her moan into the kiss.

Then she tried to pull away, but the hand holding her moved to the back of her head, holding her in place. He changed from deep kisses to little pecks and occasionally softly biting her lip, both shutting her up whenever she tried to talk.

If both his hands were on her, who did the third hand parting her legs and the fourth that soon found her clit belong to? They didn’t have the warmth of a human body or the texture of one. Neither could she feel the body they belonged to. Except for something that occasionally poked at her from behind that, if she knew it was another male, could have been a cock.

When Zyglavis finally pulled back, he was also the first one to speak, his hand only resting against her chest now.

“You know I would never do anything to upset you, right?”

The hand teasing her also stopped and Rinka couldn’t tell where it had gone to or even if even existed at all while it wasn’t touching her.

Of course she knew. That’s why she wasn’t angry or afraid, just confused. If she had to guess and her boyfriend wasn’t right before her, she could have said it was him touching her, because this new touch felt like him, except that, even as a god, Zyglavis’ touch felt human enough.

Without either of them testing her, though, her mind cleared enough to connect the dots. It felt like Zyglavis because it was him. In a sense, at least.

He had taken her words ‘twice as much’ a little too literally and was using his shadow to create a threesome opportunity without the need of another person in their bed.

“I guess there can’t be anything more different than a threesome of two people?” Rinka laughed before kissing Zyglavis again.

The last thing her mind registered was a little surprise at him being able to make his shadow solid enough for this, before both pairs of hands were touching her again. She tried touching him back, but the double sensation of having her boyfriend in two places at once, four hands all over her body, his shadow’s cock between her thighs, sometimes rubbing against her entrance without going inside, made it even harder for her to focus on anything but the quick building pleasure.

But she wasn’t the only one. Zyglavis’ real touch faltered. He closed his eyes, breathing deeper and faster, groans escaping him a little louder than usual. It was obvious he could feel both the sensations of his real body and these of his shadow’s.

Rinka smiled, before a rougher touch to her clit made her moan louder and lose herself back into the pleasure.

Both of them had a Christmas night they would never forget ahead of them.

I also originally planned a longer and very different scene, but it seems I'm still a little burned out from my kinktober attempt for proper sex scenes... I like the results, though. Rinka (Amy, Linet other of her versions) is hard to write smut about because I imagine she is the most sexually shy and very vanilla of all Feather's OCs, even more than Hana, her younger sister, so I particullary love rare events that let me draw out a different side of her naturally

[lunasmusemenagerie]

Name: Nathaniel (Nate) Barinov

Race: high fae / human

Type: OC

Faceclaim: Rudy Pankow

Background:

Nathaniel, or Nate as it was the closest name to the variant his step father called him, was originally born to Jethro Gibbs and Ilyana Green. She was still pregnant with him when she packed her things and left to join a cult, finding the head of it, Nikita Barinov, quite convincing and like her, fae. While his lineage was dubious involving whether or not he was Nikita's son or Gibbs', Nikita welcomed him as his own regardless, training him as he did his first born and heir, Alexei.

From an early age, Nate showed himself to be quite proficient in weapons training and almost a prodigy with technology, even though that was a point of contention between his father and him, spending time he thought would be better used training rather than coding and cracking Cyphers.

One day, he was contacted by a government agency about some of the Cyphers he'd cracked and posted proof of as requested, saying that those cyphers were placed there as a way to recruit decoders for the NSA. He was 'chosen' as a new recruit. Nikita cleared him to go, as he now thought having someone inside the government intelligence agency might be of use to them. He passed training with ease, finding it a cake walk compared to what Nikita put him through as a child.

Working for the NSA, he was also put in touch with his bio father, who was a head agent at NCIS, and who tried his best in his own way to get to know he wayward cult raised son. Soon, he became the NSA's choice for any investigation involving NCIS as he had the best results.

Nate and a team were sent to an outpost on the Russian boarders in a fought over area in Ukraine, running interference for supply convoys when they were made by the Russian special forces. Nate and his team were captured and held, tortured for information. The conditions of the prison were deplorable, and more than one team member died from the wounds received as well as starvation, and other conditions. Nate doesn't talk much about this time, however there are possible reports of cannibalism amongst the captives to survive. Nate was sold off or traded off, he hadn't an idea, and delivered to the Cult of Cthulhu, where he was then identified as Nikita's son, and treated accordingly. His condition from the Russians made him weaker, more suseptible to their own torture to push him to become a vessel, since Alexei didn't break as they'd planned. Much of this time is fuzzy, or at least he claims so. He remembers much of it.

Alexei found him and freed him, brought him back to the current base of operations for Nikita, before he was released back to NSA and to Gibbs. Alive, and as far as the NSA knew uncompromised.

[creaturedom]

Real talk, I just saw some real nice fall fic prompts, if I reblogged that for my oc’s would anyone wanna see some writing on that?

[deliriousgeek]

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: A quiet evening meant for celebration is thrown into chaos. Y/n wills herself to play into the daunting role that comes with being Thomas Shelby’s wife, because it might be the only thing keeping her alive. 

Masterlist

Tommy lowkey feels very oc so idk how to feel about that. im not good at writing suspense...its also very long. ha :,)

Warning: blood, guns, knives, fights, usual peaky blinder violence

If anyone knew Y/n Shelby, then they would know that she can’t stand seeing dead bodies. Although in her case, having that reaction would seem ironic, considering her husband was Thomas Shelby. 

It was around 9pm when Y/n slipped her night robe off and lay back on her bed. Her night was just winding down and she was waiting for Thomas to get back. He said he would try to be home around midnight, and to not wait up. He and his brothers would be at the Garrison, celebrating Arthur’s return from prison and discussing what was to be done with the Jews and Italians next. 

Y/n knew it would be a couple hours for Tommy to be home, so she settled onto their bed and grabbed a book off her night stand. 

The room was bathed in a warm, orange and yellow light— the type of light candles can give. When she was home alone, Y/n liked to use candle light. It reminded her of a time before the war and before this gang business, when all she and Tommy had to worry about was getting enough candles to light up the dinner table. 

Half an hour had passed and Y/n had gotten through a decent number of pages in her book. She felt her eyes drooping and decided it was time to call it a night. She stretched and cracked her neck before turning to place her book on the nightstand. Just as she was about to place the book down, she heard a creak downstairs. 

She froze.

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be back until midnight and none of the Shelby family would come over this late without a call, that was their safety protocol. 

She listened for more creaking. 

After Tommy had bought their house he had insisted on replacing the creaky floor boards, but decided to keep a few. In certain spots, that could be easily avoided if one knew where to walk, the floor would still creak. It was a safety thing that Tommy and Y/n agreed would be good to have. If the floorboards downstairs still creaked after the first step, it wasn’t one of them. 

Creak...creak...creak...

That wasn’t Tommy. 

Y/n took in a deep breath as she put herself back into a sitting position on the bed. An intruder was in her house. At the moment, the Peaky Blinders had a lot of enemies. It could be anyone. Mostly, someone with a gun. 

She listened as the person made their way upstairs. She could hear them passing Tommy’s office, and the guest bedroom. This person knew where their room was, and she could only deduce from their movement’s that they were coming for her. 

Y/n was scared. She knew how to defend herself, but didn’t like doing it if she didn’t have to. Rolling her shoulders, she prepared herself for the inevitable. She’d have to fight tonight. 

To be clear, Y/n Shelby wasn’t unable to fight. She was a pro at throwing knives, which she preferred to guns; much to Tommy’s dismay. She knew how to shoot a gun and could decently fare in hand to hand combat, but she was still scared. Her heart beat in her chest quickly and anxiety bubbled to the surface. A normal reaction to knowing someone broke into your house to hurt you, or worse. Y/n assumed it was the latter. However, instead of letting her fear show, she turned on her fake calmness. A trick she forced herself to learn as Thomas Shelby’s wife. The alarm that was spread across her face vanished, instead being replaced with an eerily calm facade.

There was no point in locking the door. The person knew how to get past those if he made it into their living room. She heard their steps stop at the front of her door, she raised her book to her face, pretending like she was reading.

Act calm. She told herself.

Then, the door burst open.

Back at the pub, the Shelby brothers  were sitting around the table in the snug. Sharing laughs and taking on their third round of Whiskey.

“Alright boys,” Tommy began, placing his glass down and looking around the table. “We’ve had our fun, business begins now.” His content expression turned serious. 

His other brothers, and cousin Michael, cleared their throats and straightened up. 

“As you know, taking Arthur out of prison is a direct threat to the Sabini’s. It shows that even in London we have enough influence to get our own men out, if needed.”

The brothers nodded, and shared looks.

Tommy continued, “Getting Arthur out was our first move. Now it’s the Italian’s and the Jew’s turn but we don’t know when their next strike will be. So, from this moment on we have to be aware, alert, and ready for every—”

The door flew open.

Sir!” Out of breath, Isaiah stood with one hand on the door knob, looking at Tommy. 

“Oi!” Arthur shouted. “You know better than to interrupt!” 

Tommy nodded his head at Arthur, then turned to Isaiah. “What is it, lad.”

“Better be important,” John added. 

“Sir, the Italians are here. My dad spotted them making their way down the lane. They got a group with guns and a car. We best hurry.” Isaiah said in a rushed voice.

With that all the Shelby men stood and placed their caps on, rushing out of the snug. 

Upon noticing the urgency in which the brothers exited, the rest of the Peaky Blinders in the pub were at full alert, waiting for Tom’s next words. The crowd silenced as the brothers stood at the snug doors, facing the onlookers. 

“If you aren’t a Peaky Blinder,” Tom eyed the crowd, “leave.” 

Noise filled the bar again as chairs shuffled, cups were placed on tables, and the front doors opened and closed.

Tom didn’t speak again until there were only Peaky Blinders left. He pulled out his revolver and checked it, making sure there were bullets, before looking up again. 

“Battle formation, men. The Italians are here.” 

Then in a flurry of peaky hats and over coats, the rest of the men got into their positions. Some ran up the stairs to get the extra cases of shotguns and revolvers. Others pulled out their own handguns and checked them as well. The Shelby boys looked at each other, a silent way of saying ‘good luck’. 

Once Tommy deemed every one armed, he nodded to Arthur, who shouted to move out. 

The Shelbies were at the front, while everyone fell behind them in triangle formation. As they marched outside, they could see the group of Italians rounding the corner. 

It was rather intimidating. An outline of men and guns on shoulders, a rather sizable group at that, illuminated by the truck headlights that followed behind. It was a sight to see.

Darby Sabini stood at the front, a shotgun slung over his shoulder.

As the groups marched towards each other and came to a stop, a man behind Thomas called out to the front. “At your command Sergeant Major.”

A hushed tone of agreement spread throughout the group.

Darby stepped forward. “Thought you could come on our turf and get away with it, aye?” 

Tommy stepped forward as well, hands in his pockets. “It was meant as a friendly gesture, but I don’t think you have enough friends to know what that means.”

A small smirk made its way onto Tommy’s face as he stared Darby down. 

Darby narrowed his eyes, irritated at that remark. “I’ll show you what friendly means. Now!”

A hail of gunfire began and the sound of shots being fired filled the lane. It was chaos. Bullets flew and body’s fell. Punches were thrown and blood was spread. More men jumped out of the covered truck and ran to beat down the men on the other side. 

Tommy ducked and punched, kicked and shot. In the middle of punching a man in the gut he yelled, “Leave Darby for me!”

His men did just that. 

Thomas fought his way to the center of the fight, where Darby had just knocked out a Peaky Blinder. Tommy aimed his gun and walked forward, aiming at Darby. The fighting on both sides ceased.

“I didn’t bring a battalion to your town.” Tommy spoke clearly, in a raised voice. 

Darby aimed his gun as well. The two circled each other as men on both sides stopped to observe the interaction. They watched Tommy and Darby tread carefully, like two tentative predators waiting for their opposer to falter.

“You still showed up. That was enough.”

The two men were breathing heavily, a result from the brawls they just finished.

“What’s your purpose for being here, Sabini?” Thomas stopped pacing, his gun still firmly held up. 

Darby stopped as well. An obnoxious laugh left his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Tommy didn’t move. He held a blank face, but his eyes still watched Darby with intensity. 

Not waiting for a response Darby continued, “I’m reminding you that I can take away everything you have in an instant. I already put your brother in jail, which it seems wasn’t a good enough warning for you, since you stupidly had him released so quickly.”

Darby took a couple steps toward Thomas, gun raised. 

“Killing me won’t do anything. I got people in place to still ruin you.” Thomas stated, his tone flat. 

Darby lowered his gun, a sickly calm smile spread across his face. It was an unsettling sight that made Tommy begin to think something was off.

“Oh Tommy boy, I’m just the distraction,” Darby’s eyes noticeably darkened, “How’s your wife these days?”

Tommy’s eyes widened and his finger pulled the trigger.

Darby fell to the ground dead, a bullet was lodged in the center of his forehead. 

Then like a wave, the fighting began again.

As soon as the gunshot rang, Tommy saw red. He shot, punched, kicked or swung at anyone in his way as he fought to get out of the crowd. He didn’t bother shouting an explanation to his brothers as he ran to his car. 

Tommy shoved his keys into the ignition and started the car. Tommy slammed his foot on the gas as soon as the engine roared to life. The car’s lights illuminated the carnage left from the battle. The Peaky Blinders were the last ones standing, as Tommy expected, but paid no mind to. His thoughts too consumed with conjuring the hundreds of horrible possibilities he might see upon arriving home, all ending with a bloodied image of Y/n.

John and Arthur ran towards the car, causing Thomas to slam on the breaks. 

“Where are you going?” John asked urgently. 

“They’re going for Y/n.” Thomas hastily replied.

John and Arthur jumped on the side of the car just in time before Tommy could speed up again. 

Michael and Finn watched as the older Shelby boys passed them. 

“Great. So we’re left to clean up the mess.”

At the house, Y/n held her book to her face as the door burst open. She turned her head and was met with the sight of a man pointing a gun at her. His clothes were clean and he looked very young. Her eyes flitted from the gun to his shoes, then to his eyes, then back to the gun. 

“On your feet.” He demanded. 

“What?” Y/n feigned innocence, despite her struggle to keep calm.

The man, gun still held towards her, trudged over and ripped the book from her hands, throwing it onto the floor. 

“I said on your feet!” He yelled in her face, backing away so he was a few feet from the bed.

She stared into his eyes, an impassive look on her face. Y/n looked back down at the gun. 

With a purse of her lips and a shrug she stated, “I’d rather not.”

The man’s soldier esc demeanor nearly slipped at her blatant defiance of his orders. “It’s not an option lady! Get up.”

She chuckled. “Y’see, lad. I’ve been on my feet all day. Have you ever worn heels for over six hours? Rather painful you know.”

Her cocky attitude betrayed her quickly beating heart that was full of adrenaline.

In an effort to scare her, he menacingly stepped forward. “I ain’t afraid to hurt you lady, but the boss wants you alive. If you keep disobeying me, I'm allowed to use force.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh really, and who is your boss? I must thank him for not wanting me dead.” 

She knew she was playing with her life, but if this boy was as inexperienced as he looked, she would get the information she needed to warn Tommy. Granted, if she got out of this situation. 

“Sabini.” The man bluntly answered. 

Y/n swallowed. This wasn’t good. If Sabini’s men were here and not in London, she needed to warn Thomas immediately. Her heart pumped faster than she thought possible and every nerve in her body was on the verge of trembling from fear.

“I see.” Y/n turned her head to the foot of the bed. “Well, like I said, I’d rather not get up. Matter of fact, I’d rather keep reading. So be a dear and hand me my book, would ya?” She was stalling.

“C’mon lady, stop being stubborn. You don't even got a weapon to be making these demands.” The man sneered.

Y/n slowly adjusted herself so that she scooted away from the pillows that propped her up. She straightened her legs on the bed, her left crossed over her right. Then she leaned back on her arms, purposely pushing up her chest to show off her unbinded chest. Hopefully, he’d be dumb enough to look at her distraction, and he was. 

“Ah, well. It was worth a shot. I can tell that you're new to this whole— kidnapping thing. If you want to get better at it then you should learn this.” She paused before looking back at the man, “Always do research on your target.”

The young man’s brows furrowed, obviously confused. 

“If you did your research, like a good little gangster,” She began as she slid her left leg up off her right, causing her silk nightgown to slowly expose her leg. The man’s eyes roamed her leg once she stopped moving, leaving her left leg in a bent position. She reached for the hem of the dress and raised it further up her left leg, stopping until it got to her mid thigh, “Then you would know, that I’m always armed.”

In a swift and well practiced motion, Y/n grabbed the sharp, throwing knife from her thigh holster, and threw. The knife landed in the man’s chest, in his heart. Looking down at the knife, the man stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling onto his back. Blood quickly formed a growing splotch of red on his shirt. Y/n quickly stood from the bed to remove the gun from the man’s hand, she then crouched over him. 

She placed her hand on the knife handle, “It was a shame you didn’t do your research.” Then she pushed the knife forward, until she felt through the blade that it had really punctured his heart.

Y/n stood over the man’s body, gun in her hand, and watched the blood puddle grow. She backed away until her knees hit the bed and gave way. Letting out a shaky breath, she sat with the gun in her lap. In an attempt to avoid looking at the body laid in front of her, Y/n stared at the ceiling. 

The adrenaline began to wear off, and the reality of the situation dawned on her. She could have died, quite easily too. If her attacker had not been so inexperienced and if she wasn’t wanted brought back alive, she could have died. Then, she thought of her husband.

Tommy. 

Had the man lying dead on her carpet opened the door and shot, Tommy would have had to come home to her dead body instead. The thought of Tommy finding her body, cold and bloody, scared her more than death. She couldn’t imagine the pain of him being alone. He would blame himself for her death. He would say he couldn’t protect her, and he would loathe himself for the rest of his life. Tears began to prick her eyes and her throat tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away and for her erratic heart beat to calm down. 

She killed a man.

That’s the only thought she could process. Her emotions muddled her thinking. Never before had she used her knives to kill. She used guns, from far away. She used punches to knock people out. She used her knives to injure, but never before had she needed them to kill. She was slightly glad for the memory of Tommy coming back home from an errand, returning with the thin knife holster that he insisted she wear when he wasn’t home. She was also glad that she made it a rule for herself to never take it off unless Tommy was home with her. 

Then, the silence of the house was broken again. She flinched. This time, the sound came from the front door slamming open and muffled shouts that she could only register as her name. 

“Y/n! Y/n where are you?” The voice shouted.

She couldn’t pinpoint who it was, not in her boggled state of mind, but she knew it was safe. So she answered. 

“In the bedroom.” 

Her eyes were still shut and her head faced the ceiling when Tommy rushed in.

“Y/n.” His voice was slightly breathless as he took in the sight before him. 

The room was covered in warm, candle light, giving a complete opposite tone to the tense atmosphere. His wife sat on the bed with a gun in her lap. A man, with his wife’s knife in his chest, laid dead on the ground and a puddle of blood surrounded his wound. 

Y/n opened her eyes and looked at her husband. She could see the fear and worry that filled his eyes, his face in slight shock.

Thomas was relieved to see his wife unharmed, but he could see the tears that were threatening to fall. Her slumped shoulders were signs of exhaustion. The way her chest moved up and down with heavy breathes told him she was on the verge of holding herself together. 

Arthur and John came bounding up the stairs next, and found their places on either side of Thomas. 

Y/n’s voice came out void of emotion, but her teary eyes said it all. “One of Sabini’s men.” She stated before turning her eyes to the ceiling once more, trying to blink away tears. “Please get him out of my sight.” The growing puddle of blood made her want to throw up. 

“You heard her,” Thomas said in a low tone, staring at his wife with concerned eyes. “Get rid of ‘em.” His voice was just above a whisper.

Arthur and John stepped forward, grabbing the man by his arms and lugged him out of the room. Only once the man had been removed did Thomas walk towards his wife. Only when he wrapped his arms around her did she let herself cry. She let herself sob and express how truly scared she was when the man burst into her room, and pointed a gun to her head. 

Thomas held her close and kissed her head. He whispered in her ear that she was okay, and that she did what she needed to do. Holding her close, he told her he loved her, and promised to never let anything like that happen to her again. 

Masterlist

well I tried

Edit: Bro this blew up in less than a day with 41 notes. Thank you♡

[pandapupremade]

Babysitting Job (Familial x Reader)

WORDS: 2,154

CHARACTERS: Maria, Y/N, and brief cameos from Allen ( an oc belonging to @masterofmasters ) and Rennird. these are all characters from my webcomic, panda pearl

CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions/descriptions of food mostly, with mentioned body horror as well

NOTES: I tried to make this as ambiguous as possible in terms of the reader descriptions and such but I've never written a proper x reader. but this was fun bc it was familial and fun and i love writing Maria. reblogs are ok if u enjoyed! but absolutely no pressure.

-----

    You didn't really think much of anything at the time you took on this babysitting job, but now that you were going up the front steps to the manor you had...questions.

     For example, you wondered if you even had the right place. The woman on the phone - you recollect her name was Emily - had not implied anything about living in such a big mansion. Furthermore, you had no idea anyone who needed a regular ol' babysitter would live in a home so grand. Surely they could afford a nanny or something? Ah well. These questions, although not to be fully answered and also piling upon more questions to come, would have to be stuffed away as you approached the door.

    However, as you reached to ring the bell, you realized the front doors were already opening. You blinked at the short character who answered it, though, because you could've sworn they had...dog ears? 

     "Ah, you - you must be the sitter that - that Miss Emily called for, right? P-please um, do come in!"

    They would pull the door open further and step back, and you took that as your cue to enter. The inside of the building was thankfully less intimidating than the outside, at least, with the flower rimmed wallpaper...Still, the place was big...

     "I'm Allen," The dog-eared maid smiled, their accompanying dog tail wagging. "Um! Let me show you to Miss Maria's r-room..." You thanked them, and allowed them to lead you up the stairs to Maria's room. Maria was, of course, the child you had been entrusted to look after.

    Soon, you two arrived at what you presumed was her room, and Allen reached for the knob...Only to have this door swing open suddenly. A girl stood there - a purple haired girl with ...rabbit ears? Was everyone this house animal themed? You blinked a few times, but didn't have time to do much else before the rabbit girl grabbed your hands, a serious look on her face.

   "You there - yes, you." She released your right hand momentarily to jab you in the chest with her index finger, then grabbed your hand again. "Are you prepared for a good time?"

    You stared. You wanted to look at Allen for support, but it felt like this was some sort of test - if you averted your eyes from Maria without answering, you would fail the test....So you cleared your throat and spoke, with a bit of hesitation: "Y...Yes?"

    Maria visibly relaxed, smiling now. "Excellent."

    "Um, Miss M-Maria -" Allen interrupted, "Be on your best behavior for our guest, a-alright?"

    "Not to worry, Allen," replied Maria, "They passed the test." So it HAD been a test, after all...You feared what might've happened if you had failed. "Anyway, I'm Maria! What's your name?"

    You told her, and she hummed. "I see, I see...Well, I'll fix that..."

      ...Fix?

      "W-well, I have to go get ready...Nori is p-probably waiting for me..." Allen sighed softly. They turned to you with a bright smile. "Please make yourself at home." And with that, they scurried off, a small pit-pat of paws on the wood floor. Hm. Okay. Might as well have paws, and were you really complaining with a noise like that?

      ...You might complain just a little, actually, for you had not gotten to squeeze any toe beans. A missed opportunity! If only you had noticed sooner. You wouldn't have time to lament anymore, sadly, as Maria grabbed your hand and pulled you into her room. Which was purple. Quell surprise.

     "So, babysitter! Whaddya wanna do?" The rabbit girl hummed, "I have toys! Do you wanna see 'em? Oh! Or would you like to play dress-up?" She acted a lot younger than fourteen, you couldn't help but realize...More like a five year old... But she noticed you weren't answering, and looked back at you with a frown and an expectant, "Well?"

     You told her whatever she wanted to do was fine, and she tilted her head. "Really? You're sure? We can do anything I want?" ...Her eyes were certainly lighting up a lot. You hesitated, unsure if this was a good idea, but you confirmed that you would do what she wanted...

    And then, well, you ended up with some car keys in your hand rather suddenly. You looked to Maria for an explanation, but she was already gently pulling you along with a smile and a mischievous glint in her eye. You had a bad feeling.

.......

........................

    Bad feelings were right to have, because after leading you through half the house, you reached the garage. Maria gestured to one of the smaller vehicles -it seemed custom-made for someone her size...Or maybe even smaller? Were you gonna end up driving this thing?

    "Right this way," She insisted, "You can drive, right? You can teach me!" Now, whether you could drive or not was really irrelevant here; you should not be teaching a fourteen year old how to drive, even if this car looked suitable for her to drive and even if she was encouraging you.

    But also it sounded really cool. Maybe you'd give it a try - no, wait, what were you thinking?! If this car got even a scratch on it or if Maria got hurt, you could kiss your payment goodbye for this babysitting job! Also, you'd probably face charges of child endangerment. And possibly be accused of kidnapping, too, if you didn't get back before anyone noticed your absence. You expressed these fears to Maria.

    "Hmm...That does sound like a problem." Yeah, no doubt, but she didn't seem particularly concerned. Instead, she seemed disappointed. "I don't have gas money, either. This was a dead end, I'm afraid." You were thankful.

You were going to suggest something about heading back to her room, but there was an abrupt grumble from her stomach. You asked if she was hungry.

"Hm? Hungry?" She blinked, maybe not even aware of her own body's needs. "Oh! I guess I could go for a snack...Umm...Do you know how to make sandwiches?"

You replied that it depended on the type, and she nodded. "Then it shouldn't be too difficult for you to make the kind I like. C'mon!" And so, she headed for the door back inside. You hesitated for a moment, glancing around. Maria turned back. "...What's wrong?"

You told her you didn't know what to do with the keys to the car.

"Oh, just put them anywhere. Allen can sniff them out, so it doesn't matter if you lose them." ...What kind of mindset was that? "Now come on, come on! Maria is hungry."

For the time being, you resigned and put the keys into your pocket. Actually, you'd probably forget them, and Allen would come rushing into your house at some point "sniffing out" the keys. You quickly took the keys back out of your pocket and put them on the roof of the car. That was probably safer. Then you'd be good to follow Maria.

To the kitchen it was, then.

.......

........................

In the kitchen, you finally were able to ask what kind of sandwich Maria wanted. As she took a seat on a stool next to the counter, she hummed in thought and tapped her finger against her chin.

"Hm...Well, how about a baby carrot sandwich?" She paused at your slightly confused look. "...Do you not know how to make it?" You admitted you had never even heard of such a thing.

Maria sighed, and hopped off the stool again - it was literally a sort of hop due to the fact the seat was higher than it probably needed to be...Maybe it was for someone really tall.

"Well, I'll just show you then. First, the bread is over there -" She pointed at a cupboard, " - and I'll grab the carrots and lettuce." This was quite literally a sandwich with carrots, then? You asked if there was additional ingredients they needed.

"Nah, that's about it. Prep is very simple." Maria walked over to the fridge and peered inside. "Mmh, now where is...Aha!" She opened a drawer, pulling out a bag of mini sized carrots.

You supposed you should be getting the bread instead of watching this, so you did so. Thus, once Maria located lettuce, it was all set to begin.

"So first!" Maria declared, "We need two slices of bread. It can be seedless rye bread or white bread, but absolutely no wheat!" She placed the bread on a paper plate. "It is crucial not to cut it. We want a full sandwich."

"Next, place lettuce and.." she took the carrot bag and opened it, "Carefully remove baby carrots from their confinement. Be very picky about which ones you choose...If they look unsatisfactory, then do not use them in the sandwich." She began carefully spacing the carrots across the lettuce.

"Finally, place another leaf of lettuce, and pop that second piece of bread on top." She did so, and brushed her hands together. "And..." She patted down the sandwich, then glanced at you. "Give it a gentle pat for good luck, and that is how you make a baby carrot sandwich, my friend. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night."

You were a little confused, but she seemed to expect praise by how she was staring at you, so you obliged and complimented her cooking. Then, she smiled.

"Well, you've been a lovely audience. Oh, but do you want something to eat?" She looked worried now. "We spent so much time making my food, but..." You shook your head and told her you were fine. She frowned, but nodded. You both went to sit down at the table.

You sighed to yourself as you sat down, and as Maria crunched on the sandwich with a content expression, you stopped to think about some things. This job had been a bit intimidating at the start, but it seemed Maria was just an excitable and bubbly young teen. She wasn't too much trouble at all, and sitting here watching her swing her legs and eat with delight made you pretty happy yourself.

Then, Maria's long rabbit ears twitched, somewhat turning in the direction of the doorway. You turned your gaze that way too, but it wasn't for a few moments that you actually heard anything yourself. You heard footsteps, to be exact. Was someone else home?

Yes, someone was home - but you had to admit it was another odd house member. This one wasn't an animal that you could see, but he was VERY tall, with long black hair, and...two sets of arms. He looked a bit tired, walking past the two of you with a mug in his hand.

"Hi Tenty," Maria didn't even look up as she spoke, though her words were a bit garbled from chewing.

"Good afternoon, Maria. Don't talk with your mouth full, alright?" The man sighed, looking in the cabinet for something. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, that's my babysitter." Maria looked at you now, having properly swallowed her food and no longer talking incoherently. "That's Tenty."

"Rennird von Garnet, more accurately." Corrected the man.

"Tenty." Maria dismissed his correction, "Anyway, he's my bestie."

You were a little hesitant, and a bit concerned that Maria called him...Tenty? But you didn't openly ask. It seemed Rennird, who was pouring some sort of powder into his mug, already knew of your curiosity.

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm sure you have a number of questions regarding this house and its inhabitants." He glanced over. "Unfortunately, it is not my place, intention, nor of my interest to tell you." ...Thanks?

You began trying to speak, but it seemed Rennird's business here was complete upon his pouring hot water into the powder-filled mug. Was it hot chocolate? "Very well, Maria. Do behave." And with that, he left.

"Bye, Tenty!" Maria called after him. She then relaxed into her chair, sighing. "That was a good sandwich."

None of this was making much sense to you, but you were kind of starting to just go with the flow by now. You did ask, however, why the man who had entered hadn't been asked to babysit if he's home and all...Maria blinked at you, surprised.

"Hmm? Oh, he's busy with his experiments in the basement. Don't worry too much about it. He just came up for a cocoa refill. Dude is entirely addicted." She nodded her head knowingly...But uh, what was that about experiments?

You decided to once again just go with the flow. There'd be a good bit of that today, you predicted, and this was not wrong. It was fine and all, though - Maria was good company to be truthful, and you got less intimidated as the day progressed.

By the time Allen was home, you were exhausted though. You accepted your payment, Maria demanded a goodbye hug, and as Allen commented on the absence of their keys, you decided it hadn't been such a bad babysitting job.

It was a weird one, though.

[1kook]

commercial break ; EIGHT

this is part of my netflix & chill series! takes place a little after part 7 :)

SUMMARY You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.  WARNINGS unprotected sex, nipple clamps, overstimulation, pretty pet names for jk, oc is so fckin horNEE, both have a high sex drive, oc is obsessed with the koobies MISC flashbacks to jk’s ex gf yes you read right!, there’s backstory yuck, taehyung the bestie, jk is just so happy where he is now <3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.9k

NOTES finally after six months..... we get a glimpse of jk’s life pre-netflix n chill 🥶 also i just rlly wanted to write jk wearing the nipple clamps hehe 

Taehyung had warned him about this. 

“As hard as it is to believe,” he had said one night during their first year of university, haphazardly parked outside of a Wendy’s at three in the morning. Jungkook was trying to finish an assignment— early, always early —when he had been abruptly hauled to fulfill Taehyung’s spicy chicken sandwich craving. “Girls are hornier than guys.”

Jungkook remembers it so clearly. 

He had chuckled, had harbored this feeling of contentment, of belonging, with his best friend beside him, talking about the most mundane things. “No way,” he had said. He had only broken up with Haerim last month; his first girlfriend, his first heartbreak, all in his first year of college. So he wasn’t particularly bothered with women at the moment, and he probably wouldn’t be for a long time. He quite liked this life of solitude, the peaceful waves brought upon by the comfort of being alone, the occasional break in the water when Taehyung or Namjoon checked in on him. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, had always been concerned with women. A furious nod, huge eyes. “Dude, I swear,” he had exclaimed, and then had launched into a full feature recapture of how horny his then-girlfriend always was. Jungkook had simply listened— it’s what he does best —and nodded along when Taehyung continued his silly ramblings. 

He can still remember his thought process. 

Of course girls are horny. But Jungkook doubts they’re as horny as him or any of the guys he knew. Speaking for himself, Jungkook knows his sex drive is too high; too high for someone who’s only lost his virginity earlier that year. 

Haerim had once told him he asked for too much. And Jungkook understood, really; she was his first, and maybe he got a little too excited in his conquest to try everything, a conquest she wasn’t too keen on joining. “Do you even like me?” she had asked the night they broke up. “Or do you just want to have sex?”

Both, he remembers thinking, but that thought had felt like the wrong answer to give her. Her words had made him squirm, had made him feel so small. Was he asking her for too much? Was Jungkook too much— a handful for her to deal with? Jungkook’s love language had always been physical touch. He thought she understood that. 

They parted ways in the most mature way possible. A simple break-up, no hard feelings. Jungkook felt terrible. He had pushed her too far, had asked for too much. They aren’t as horny as guys, he remembers thinking. Or at least, not as horny as Jungkook. 

In the end, Jungkook remembers politely disagreeing with Taehyung on the matter. 

Until now, nearly four years later, with your hands circling his bare waist. 

He’d just finished nailing you into the mattress not even ten minutes ago, had fucked his cock into you until you were screaming so loud your neighbor had banged on your shared wall. Your lips are soft against his shoulder, the prettiest little giggle slipping past them. It’s pitch black outside, your room enveloped in shadows, but the warmth you press against his back is akin to that of the sun’s; Jungkook can’t think of a more fitting comparison. “I was thinking,” you purr, voice like warm honey down his throat. It makes him melt, has his eyes fluttering shut as your hands trace feathery lines against the waistband of his boxers. 

“That’s not good,” he manages to murmur, trapping your hand over his belly button. You make this sound, something between a satisfied hum and a moan; Jungkook wants nothing more than to spread your legs far apart and lick you down the middle. You shuffle closer behind him. He can feel your tits against his back, the hardened nub of your nipples. 

But it appears Jungkook isn’t the only one interested in nipples tonight. 

“The clamps,” you whisper, voice nearly lost under the thrum of the air conditioning, the steady beat of his heart in his chest. 

And in that moment, Jungkook truly understands what Taehyung had meant that night. 

They sting, terribly so, make him feel like someone is going to rip his nipples out of his chest at any moment. But at the same time, they make his toes curl, make Jungkook grind his teeth together in a feeble attempt to dismiss the pleasure. 

On top of that, the look on your face when Jungkook leans over you, the thin metal chain of the nipple clamps touching your chin, is enough to fuel his solo sessions for years to come. “Oh,” you gasp, trembling hand reaching up for the glittering chain. 

Jungkook hisses at the tug, accidentally bucks forward into the warm cradle between your legs. It makes you whimper, hand on his shoulder, the other holding onto the cruel device on his chest. “Fuck,” he bites, brows furrowed together as he glares down at you. 

“S- So pretty,” you slur, delirious. Jungkook’s not even inside of you, just has his cock resting on your hip. He thinks there might be a droplet of drool clinging to your lips. “Jungkook,” you breathe, finally lifting the other hand to his chest, thumb caressing the pretty gold clamp that is squeezing the life out of his nipple. It feels so good, and Jungkook is so embarrassed. 

You let him in soon enough, eyes trained on his flushed chest as he sinks into you. You’re still so loose, so wet and tender from the fucking he gave you earlier, from the two orgasms from before. He can’t comprehend how you’re still asking for more, capable of more, after he had spit in your mouth, bent you like a pretzel, and all but consumed your entire being in his earlier lust. 

He reaches the hilt and you tug at Jungkook’s clamps, make his chest jerk forward in surprise. “Fuck!” he chokes, hand on the back of your thigh around him. “Don’t f- fucking do that,” he begs, but it feels so good and you’re so entranced, he hardly thinks you hear him. 

It’s like you’re stuck in a daze, tiny mouth opening to release the sweetest little moans, eyes scarily trained on his chest. It’s like you don’t see him, don’t see Jungkook right before you, and for some reason… he adores the feeling. “Look at me,” he whispers, testing the waters. 

You spare him a glance, a supportive smile, and then it’s back to staring at his nipples. 

It makes Jungkook awfully hard. 

In a weird, roundabout sort of way, it’s like he’s being used. Like he’s nothing but a pawn in your lustful schemes, just a visual stimulus to help get you off; in short, it’s a teensy bit degrading. Dismissive. Whatever you want to call it. 

His dick twitches at the thought. 

And, like always, you’re in perfect step with him. Another tug at the chain, another moan torn from his lips. “So pretty for me,” you croon. It’s his line, you know it’s always been his line. Jungkook pushes deeper into you, but aside from a sinful cry, it doesn’t deter you. A wicked grin crosses your features, hand crawling around his neck to tangle in his locks again. “Tits all pink,” you shiver, tapping the pad of a finger against his nipple. Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head, bucks forward suddenly. 

“N- Not pretty,” he growls, pushing you down deeper against the sheets, like maybe they’ll swallow you up and he’ll be saved from your lewd ways. “You’re pretty.”

You chuckle, and then contradict the sweet tone of your voice with a harsh tug against his clamps. Jungkook all but howls, pistons into you until he feels your cervix kiss his tip, call him forward, practically beg for him to fill you whole. “Prettiest boy,” you whimper, tracing his swollen nipple with your finger as if it’ll soothe the prickling sensations that shoot down his spine, makes him rut deeper into you. 

Jungkook wants to cum so badly, wants to spill his seed down your insides until it paints every wall, kisses every inch, until it’s physically impossible for you to not be pregnant. 

But the worst thing is, Jungkook is so terribly spent from the early events of that night, that the mere thought of coming again sounds like it would be painful. Of course, Jungkook immediately realizes the hypocrisy in his statement— he frequently makes you come various times in one night, sometimes in the span of a few minutes —but he never thought he’d be on the receiving end of this— this— overstimulation. 

Your walls squeeze around him, your fingers playfully tugging at the chain in intervals until Jungkook’s back arches forward, hips grinding against your quivering opening. “Cum inside,” you pant, curling one finger around the wretched contraption that seems intent on killing him slowly. He groans, hips snapping at your offer. He wants to so badly, but his toes curl, stomach tightens almost ominously. “Maybe if you do it a second time I’ll get p—“

“Shut up,” he begs, gasping for breath. You manage to laugh through a moan, harshly yanking your fist towards you in a motion that nearly has him crashing down on top of you. “I can’t—“ he shudders, forearms trembling. 

“You can,” you encourage, ankles locking together at the base of his spine. His every being feels overwhelmed, head like TV static. His dick throbs, practically begs for another orgasm that Jungkook fears will tear him apart, leave him a boneless pile of limbs for days. And his chest— “look, Jungkook,” you purr, pinching the already tortured nub between your fingers, “look at your fucking tits” —feels like heaven. 

It only takes a few more rushed thrusts, your stuttering moans like music to his ears, and a particularly brutal pull of the clamps on his chest, before Jungkook is bursting. And it’s painful, just as he thought, makes him release the most airy, fluttery whine. It’s so embarrassing, and frankly surprising, how high his voice can get, but it makes you beam beneath him. “Oh, such a good boy,” you coo, catching him in your arms when he slumps forward, chest against yours. 

He’s as boneless as he predicted, jaw twitching as he tries to gather himself into an acceptable state again. “Fuck you,” he groans, hips jerking with the after shocks of such a stimulated orgasm. 

You laugh, carding your hands through his hair. “You were made to wear cute things like that,” you mumble, lips pressed against his temple. 

Before he can speak (not that he knows what he’d say), you’re tugging him back by his hair, looking like you’ll eat him alive. He wants you to. “The cuffs,” you murmur, nose knocking against his. “Let’s try those on you next.” 

You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. 

But Jungkook is the same. You match him so well, fill the gaps when he’s too shy, lay yourself out when he needs more. 

(“You ask for too much,” Haerim had confessed, staring him down from the doorway of his dormitory. The room had always felt small, but today it feels miniature. Like the walls are closing in on him; he can’t breathe. “I don’t think anyone in this world can keep you satisfied, Jeon Jungkook.”)

Your heel knocks against the back of his thigh, and he is suddenly made aware of the trembling lips of your cunt around his cock, still so wet— still so horny. “Again?” you ask so sweetly, fingers dancing across his back. 

Jungkook shivers. “Again.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[solinarimoon]

Fields of Wildflowers , Chapter 13

Fields of Wildflowers 

Chapter 13

A Sihtric x OC story

Previous chapters. | My masterlist

AN: Firstly, apologies for not updating or posting any original content for a few weeks.  I was on vacation and taking a small personal break.  But rest assured that this story will be concluded and that I have other content and other OC’s I will write for when this story is done.  So thank you for your patience and continued reading and support!  My timeline for events during the siege in Winchester is different from the show.  I almost combined this chapter with the events for the next one but they would have been too long.  Also, this chapter still does not feature much of Sihtric, but he will be in the next chapter! I promise! And the beautiful moodboard is from @serasvictoria. Check out her blog - beautiful and original work.

Warnings: non-con, male on female violence, self-defense violence, assault, sexual assault, I think that is all.

Word Count: 3553

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since learning of Eardwulf’s presence in Winchester and the disturbing images in her dreams, which had continued nightly, Cwen’s composure had begun to falter.  Shadows in lonely corners continually leared in the edges of her vision.  A loud noise or commotion was enough to startle a gasp from her lips.  While returning to the kitchens one evening, a dark haired man with a slim frame similar to Eardwulf rounded a corner, reeking of ale and stumbled into Cwen and Eadith grumbling to himself.  The encounter was enough to leave Cwen shaking like a leaf in a gale. For the rest of that evening, Eadith couldn’t coax a word out of her friend.

Eadith was truly worried about Cwen and tried not to leave her alone when possible.  The two women continued working in the kitchen and waiting for chances to sneak words to their friends.  Although there was no real news to relay to them.

The siege continued.  Sigtrrygr still had the upper hand and for all intents and purposes appeared to ignore Edward’s attacks on the walls outside.  Cwen and Eadith had managed to speak a few more words through the door to Lady Aelswith and were confident they were managing as well as they could.  Although held as prisoners, they were fed and given water.  They were not ill treated.  

A bit shockingly, Stiorra was being treated with even more dignity and respect.  Cwen had managed to volunteer to bring Stiorra food a second time from the kitchens.  All had gone smoothly and it had done Cwen some good to venture on the errand without the comfort of Eadith’s presence.   

Stiorra had embraced her and assured her of Sigtrrygr’s kindness and courtesy towards her.  And it was true that the young woman Cwen saw looked refreshed and lively.  Cwen thought that Stiorra seemed quite taken with the conquering Dane.  He, apparently,  spoke with her as an equal and conversed with her, challenged her.  And Cwen felt glad for the young woman.  Seeing the blossoming of a potential young romance did make her heart ache to feel herself once more in Sihtric’s arms.  She wished to move beyond the hard words spoken between them when they left one another. 

When she had returned from delivering Stiorra’s food, Cwen felt a bit more like herself.  Eadith had noticed the change in her friend as well.  That one errand on her own had brought back more of the determined and confident woman Eadith knew.  

Cwen still was watchful.  She still steadied herself and her breathing regularly.  But she had stopped her quaking and stuttering movements or being startled at every noise or turn.  Her nightmares had also lessened.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The chance to bring Stiorra her afternoon meal presented itself again several days later.  Frig had yet again barked an order to any kitchen maid available to bring bread, cheese, and water to the woman, Stiorra.  Careful to not seem too eager, Cwen had moved to gather the items and a basket in which to carry them all.

She paused just outside the door of the kitchen and gathered her breath.  She could still see Eadith through the doorway and managed a small smile before taking a steadying breath and moving on her errand.  Along the hallways, Cwen strode with confidence having become accustomed to walking the halls now occupied by Danes.  She held her head down to avoid unwanted attention but walked with purpose to avoid unneeded questions.  No one usually disturbed her or Eadith while they were about their business but all the same, Cwen thought it best to blend in and become unassuming. 

As she turned the corner, Cwen heard muffled voices coming from the room where Stiorra was kept.  Still several paces down the hall, she slowed her steps and strained her ears to better hear who was within.  Thus far, her path had not crossed with Sigtryggr while he visited Stiorra. It might be best to completely avoid arousing suspicion that they knew one another. 

But if Sigtryggr knew food should be on its way and she delayed it’s arrival would that not also be suspicious?

Cwen kept her head down and decided she would simply walk into the room and deliver the food.  She could then see how events unfolded casually.  Cwen was startled from her thoughts when the door to Stiorra’s room opened.  And a voice she recognized spoke.

“I would always choose fear.”

Eardwulf backed out of the door and turned after closing it again, leaving whomever else was inside shut away.

The man appeared haggard and dejected. Fearful even. 

As he turned, Eardwulf’s glare caught Cwen.  She stood transfixed.  A deer frozen after hearing the snap of a twig.

“What are you doing here?” Eardwulf sneered in a low voice as he stalked towards Cwen.

He reached a hand out to grasp at her sleeve, but it snapped life back into Cwen’s blood and she stepped to turn and run.

But he was himself too quick and easily grabbed her from behind and pushed her into an alcove of the hallway.

Eardwulf was quick to muffle Cwen’s cries with a hand over her mouth.

“If you are here then it means my whore of a sister must also be here.  What is the plan then, eh? Have you two in here to spy and to snoop?” Eardwulf prattled on about the injustices and failures he continually faced all the while never removing his hand from Cwen’s mouth. 

She stared, terrified at the man and his condition. Dark shadows rested in the hollows underneath his bloodshot eyes. His eyes themselves appeared deranged. 

Finally, Eardwulf paused while bringing his head to rest against Cwen’s brow. His hand still clamped across her mouth making it hard to breathe. The pressure of his fingers was bruising. 

“I will show them,” he whispered, not speaking to Cwen any longer but to some unknown collective. 

“They will watch in fear as I show them what will become of those who threaten me.”

He drew back from Cwen, catching her eyes. 

His breathing was haggard. Matching her own. 

Cwen cursed herself for having Sihtric’s knife hidden strapped to her calf. Out of her reach. 

Not like the knife Eardwulf now drew from a sheath at his waist and held up to her, the tip grazing along the dip in her clavicle. 

“Not a word, Cwen. You are coming with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cwen could not help but comply as Eardwulf led her, knife pressed against the small of her back, at the kidneys. The same place Sihtric had instructed her could incapacitate an attacker. 

Her mind worked feverishly trying to find a means of escape from him. Or to even determine what he meant to do with her. How and who was he planning to strike fear into?

But realization soon struck her as Eardwulf escorted her up a set of stairs and out into the rampart. Facing Edward’s army on the field below.  Facing her friends. Sihtric. 

“Edward!”

Eardwulf’s voice grated as he shouted for the king’s attention. 

“Edward! My Lord King!”  

Eardwulf’s focus was now on garnering attention from the king, his grip had shifted, clasping an arm tight around Cwen’s throat and the knife held in his free hand. Braced against the stonewall of the parapet. 

Cwen clasped her hands onto his arm desperately trying to break some of the hold he had on her. But his strength and size overpowered her. She watched as his fingers flexed and then gripped the knife repeatedly as he waited for any sign of reply from the king. 

And then she heard him. Crying out to her with such fear and anguish that it almost broke her. 

“Cwen!” Sihtric called, rushing forward from the base of the tree in the field.  Osferth and Finan were quick to restrain him, to stop him from coming in range of any archer's arrows.  What sounds followed in the next few moments we’re not words but the sounds of a man crazed. An animal desperate to act and protect what was his. 

“Is that your man now, Cwen?”

Eardwulf’s words were hot against her cheek. Cwen could do nothing but watch while Sihtric struggled and fought against Finan and Osferth.

“I have struck fear in him. The rest will follow,” Eardwulf paused, scanning the crowd assembled to watch on the field.  Edward had stepped out from the ranks of his men but had made no move to reply to Eardwulf.  Seeing this, Eardwulf shifted his focus.

“Lord Uhtred!” He now called. Taunting. 

“Lord Dane Slayer! Come forth Uhtred!”

Cwen watched helplessly as Sihtric finally stopped struggling against his brothers. He stared up at her, panting and flexing his jaw.  Then Uhtred was beside them and striding forward several paces in front of them. 

“We have your daughter, Uhtred.”

Eardwulf’s words stopped Uhtred in his tracks and caused the rest of his men to still. 

“She is almost as good a hump as this one here,” Eardwulf yelled the words while releasing his grasp around Cwen’s shoulders to shove her forward by the nape of her neck. 

Finding courage from his deception, Cwen yelled, “He lies! She is treated fairly and with respect,” but Eardwulf’s hand shoved her forward so that her head connected with the stone wall, dulling the last of her words. 

Feeling dazed, Cwen could hear shouts from the men below. Sihtric’s voice was chief among them. 

Then Eardwulf’s voice rose again over the shouts and protests.

“Now do I have your attention?” He paused while the soldier’s voices died down.  “We hold the city.  And we will continue to hold the city.  Do you know how Sigtryggr took your city?  I told him it was left undefended.  It was me!”  He paused here scanning the crowd and breathing hard.  His hand still held Cwen bent over, braced against the stone wall.

“Too often I was overlooked or underused.  Swept aside and discarded.  But no more!” His words were coming out desperate now, pained.  “Now you would have cause to fear me.”

Struggling to push herself upright, Cwen retorted, “you are nothing but a snake in the grass.  A coward.  That is why you will never rise.  You will never become anything more.”

Cwen could feel the anger radiating off of Eardwulf.  His entire body quivered with malice.  She knew she needed to keep him off guard.  Keep him impetuous if she was to find a chance to save herself.  It was a dangerous game to play, to goad him on, but if she did not then she was sure this would end badly.  

“Shut your mouth, whore!”  Eardwulf snapped while dragging Cwen back upright against him.

“Sigtryggr has the power here, Edward!  I have the power.” 

Cwen flinched at his words.  He had brought the knife back up to her torso, pressing against her breasts.  But it was clear his attention wasn’t truly focused on her.  Chaos and rage were emanating off of him.  Cwen could feel his breath catching and the sobs seizing in his throat.  The turmoil and fury he battled had won.

“And you will watch as I wield that power! I will hump this bitch now and then I will find your daughter, Uhtred, and I will hump her too.  And you will not be able to do anything to stop me.”

Eardwulf’s final words were bellowed at the crowd below.  It was then that Cwen felt the buzzing in her ears once more and time felt sluggish.  

She could hear the shouts from the men gathered below.  The din of the noise and the buzzing were too loud for her to pick out Sihtric’s voice, but she knew the anguish he would be feeling.

She felt as Eardwulf shoved her body forward once more, discarding his knife and bodily pressing himself against her.  He fumbled with the bundles of her skirt, reaching down to grab handfuls of the fabric. 

Cwen felt herself desperately try to push her body backwards, to gain any sort of leverage or purchase.  In her struggle, Cwen brought her leg up bracing against the wall.  And her hand brushed the handle of Sihtric’s knife.

With no hesitation, Cwen grasped the handle and pulled it from the sheath.  Bellowing, she drove the blade back with an upward thrust from her hip with all the strength her arm could muster at such an odd angle.  And she felt the weapon sink into flesh.  

Immediately, the pressure holding her against the stone eased.  Cwen ripped the knife from Eardwulf’s gut and whirled around.

Eardwulf’s hands were grasping at his abdomen where blood had begun to seep through his fingers.  

Cwen was vaguely aware of boots clamoring up the stairs to her left.  But she was more focused on the rush of adrenaline coursing through her body.  Eardwulf turned his eyes back up to meet hers and lurched forward, hand reaching for her throat.  And upon instinct, Cwen brought the knife up between herself and Eardwulf.   She felt the tremor of the blade sinking into flesh once more as she pushed the blade outward and Eardwulf’s own momentum came crashing against it.  The knife ripped past the flesh and scraped off of the bone, then tearing into his vocal cords. Cwen felt as slick, crimson gore seeped over her hand.

The buzzing had stopped.  The running feet had stopped.  The sounds of the shouts and yells from the field below were still slow and distant to Cwen’s ears.  Slowly, she pushed Eardwulf’s body away from hers and let go of the knife.  

Stepping to the side, Cwen watched as he dropped down on his knees and his head lolled forward.  Fresh blood pooled out of his mouth.   Cwen’s heart hammered in her chest and she felt a tingling moving along her body.  First in her toes, then along her fingers, and traveling up her arms.  Adrenaline roaring through her veins.

It was after a few more moments that Cwen became aware of the other person on the ramparts.  Raising her eyes, Cwen saw that Sigtryggr stood only a few paces away, surveying the scene before him.

He lifted his hands in a gesture of peace and slowly walked forward.  His eyes never left Cwen.  Not when he closed the distance between himself and Eardwulf.  And not when he stooped to grasp the knife handle, ripping it from Eardwulf’s neck.  The gesture brought a new spurt of blood and elicited several choked coughs from Eardwulf.  

Slowly, Sigtryggr grasped Eardwulf by the shoulders and pulled him up to his feet.  The man’s life was slowly ebbing away.  Cwen listened as Sigtryggr spoke to Eardwulf.

“Do you see what ruling through fear has earned you, Christian?  I doubt there will be any who mourn your death.” 

With those final words, the Danish conqueror grasped onto Eardwulf’s shoulders.  He moved to the stone and shoved the man bodily over the parapet to crash on the hard earth below.

The shouts from the Saxons died on their lips. And Cwen watched as Sigtryggr held out his hand to her.  The knife laid flat in his palm.  An offering to her.

“He can hurt you no longer.”  Sigtryggr’s voice was calm and low.  It was collected and composed.  And Cwen studied his eyes before she reached out to take the knife.  They showed only sincerity.

Once she had taken the knife and stepped back a pace to have some space, Sigtryggr turned his attention towards the Saxons.

“King Edward of Wessex,” he shouted, “That man did not speak for me.  And he is of no concern now.”  Sigtryggr paused here, searching the crowd to see if he could find Edward among his men.

“Come on out, King.  I have shown myself.  Now let us see you.  Come and meet me at the gate.  I wish to speak with you, eye to eye.  One man to another.”

Hearing his words, Cwen turned to scan the crowd.  But while Sigtryggr was searching for Edward, her eyes were hunting for Sihtric.  And he was there.  His eyes were trained on her.  Cwen could still see the desperation emanating off of him.  The overwhelming yearning to be embracing his lover while only able to gaze from afar.  Cwen felt it too.  A physical pull lifting off her chest that there was no choice but to resist.  Slowly, Sihtric’s gaze eased her breathing and Cwen felt the drain of exhaustion creep into her bones.

Sigtryggr’s next words caught Cwen’s attention.

“Bring the boys,” he spoke quietly to the guards standing along the stair to their left.

Cwen watched as Aethelstan and another young boy, Aelfweard presumably, approached.  Without hesitation, Cwen reached her arms out to envelope Aethelstan.  The boy embraced her wordlessly and headless of the blood Cwen noticed had begun to dry on her hands and arms, turning sticky.  Sigtryggr watched while Cwen held her arm out to the second child, offering him a bit of maternal comfort and presence as well.  Sigtryggr made no move to stop the boys nor even a face of disapproval.  His eyes held merely curiosity.

“Meet with me, King Edward,” he called, turning back to face the warriors. “Come,” he paused, seeing that Edward had stepped forward, “and talk to us at the gate. Your sons wish to see their father.”

After an interminable time, Cwen watched as Edward’s standard bearer shouted up that the king would approach the gate and treat with Sigtryggr.  

After he had confirmation that Edward would approach, Sigtryggr turned and gently ushered Cwen and the boys down the stairs, his men shifting to make room for their descent.

Cwen stiffened when she felt Sigtryggr place a hand on her back guiding her away from the front gate.  Almost instantly, the hand was removed.

“Forgive me, lady,” he paused, questioning as Cwen turned to face him, the boys still clutched tightly to her, “I do not know your name.”

Cwen studied the man’s face once more.  Standing closer to him, she could see more details surrounding the scars he wore along his brow and cheek.  She also saw a startling depth and gentleness behind his eyes.

“Cwen,” she replied, “My name is Cwen.”

Sigtryggr’s lips quirked upward slightly in amusement. “Ah, so you are one of the young women who traveled the countryside with Stiorra in Mercia while I took Winchester?”

When Cwen did not answer, he continued, “Stiorra has mentioned you on several occasions. She likes you.  Respects you,” he paused to turn and glance at some of his men and the gate, “I do not know how you came to be inside the walls, but it is of little concern.  And I assure you that no more harm will come to you.  I will have you taken to be with Stiorra.  But the boys will come with me.  I do not wish them harm.  And let us pray to all the gods that their father will see reason and help us avoid that outcome.”

Cwen moved to place herself in front of the boys, but Sigtryggr’s men instantly were on her, overpowering her.

“Stop!” Sigtryggr had held up a hand and yelled the command.  “You will unhand them.”  

His men obeyed him without delay and he approached her placing a gentle but firm hand on her arm.

“You must give them to me now, Cwen.�� Trust me when I assure you that I wish to be different from the Northmen who have come before me.  A better man than the Danes who have raped and ravaged your people.  I do not,” he emphasized the word, “want them harmed.  But this is what must be done.”

Sigtryggr held out his hands, one towards Aethelstan and one towards Aelfweard.  Cwen turned her face to meet Aethelstan’s eyes.  They boy nodded at her before reaching out and taking the outstretched hand.  He was followed closely by his half-brother and Cwen slowly felt them both slip from her fingers.

Turning to walk to the gate, Sigtryggr spoke to the man nearest him.

“Bring her to Stiorra and see that she is allowed to clean herself and be fed.  I will check that this is done later.”

“No,” Cwen protested, finding her voice frail and wavering.  But gathering her courage, she spoke once more, “No!”

Sigtryggr stopped and turned his face over his shoulder to watch her.

“I,” she stammered, hesitating, “I was not alone here.  Another woman, another friend of Stiorra, Eadith is here with me.  I must find her.  I fear for either of us to be alone.”  Cwen’s eyes searched Sigtryggr’s face, pleading.

After a moment, the Dane gave a single nod before turning back to stride towards the gates.

Taking one step backwards and then another, Cwen turned and rushed off to the kitchens in search of Eadith.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list.

Tagging: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @obipoelover @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world @evelynshelby @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @trenko-heart @0hsappho

[skzfairies]

yuri’s cloud #1

note: this is inspired a lot by @ateezjuliet ! please go check out her content, it’s really amazing and her work has inspired me a lot with my oc’s, so i really recommend you check her out :D. also, i edited the youtube cover myself...and i suck at editing so 😭 i’m sorry, i tried.

warnings: mentions of mental health issues, yuri’s hiatus.

— about

comfort crowd was released on july 1st 2020, and the song claim is comfort crowd by conan grey!

but yuri had written and produced this song during her hiatus and she released it as her comeback! there was no pictures of her anywhere so it was a big shock for her to all of the sudden drop this, and then right after wards KQ announced that she was coming back, and then a few hours later yuri was seen in public for the first time in six months!

note: i know i haven’t posted much about yuri’s hiatus yet, but i promise i will soon. but just so you all know, yuri first went on hiatus on january 28th, and she came back july 1st!

anyways, the music video has similar vibes to rosé’s gone, i don’t want to claim it as a what the music video looks like because it didn’t have as many different scenes, but it was similar to the scenes where she was in the dark hallway and playing chess in a sweatshirt (watch the music and hopefully you will understand).

also, it had similar vibes to deja vu bu olivia rodrigo too! when she enters the room with all of those square tvs, it shows a bunch of moments between ateez, rather that be concerts or interviews or vlogs, with yuri watching them and mascara down her cheeks.

at the end of the song when she was singing the last part, she was walking into a living room where all of the ateez members were situated. if you seen maria by hwasa, it’s similar vibes to that, once the song is over she walked into the room where ateez was just sitting on a couch together laughing. the camera moved to yuri slowly growing a fond smile at her boys, and then all of the boys ran to her and threw her into a group hug:( it even included all of their laughter in the scene, it was so cute....yuri said that she almost cried when they filmed that scene because it had been so long since she had been in a group hug since she didn’t stay in the dorms during her hiatus :(

and after the reunion scene was over, it was a black screen with a message from yuri saying: “it’s okay to lean on someone.” in both english and korean, and then it ended. yuri had also included a note in the description box of the video;

“Hello ATINY! it is yuri! i’m back after awhile, i missed everyone so much, so i’m happy to be back. after lots of resting and getting my mental health to a better state, i’m finally releasing this song. i written this song during my hiatus, it was something that comforted me and grounded me while i was away. i wrote it while thinking about my members, ateez. they are my comfort crowd, and so is atiny. i’m so thankful that i have amazing friends all surrounding me (yes atiny, that includes you :D), and i don’t think i could be the person i am today without you all. this song is really personal for me, it might the most personal song i have written and released, because i had my most vulernable and most cherished memories in mind while i wrote this. i hope that you all enjoy this song, and i hope it can comfort some. love you!”

i might do an explanation of the lyrics for yuri in a later post, because i have written some fics that tie into this song! i feel like it will probably be easy to connect them though, as long as you know the lyrics!

after writing this song, yuri had sent the draft of her singing it (it was her pure voice, there was no editing done to it, and it was just her true voice, so there was more emotion to it.) to the ateez group chat, and she sent the korean translations too and she just texted “for you.” and then didn’t say anything after that 😭

all the boys listened to it together and hongjoong read the lyrics to them, and a lot of them teared up (all of them did. they all cried.). they were all so touched they were just like :( yuri :(

they didn’t know how to react so they all facetimed yuri and she was like “NOOOO DONT CRY” and wooyoung was like “you send that song and expect us not to cry??”

might go further into that later :DD

— atiny reactions

this is atiny’s comfort song now ‼️‼️

but everyone was so shocked because they got a notification from ateez WITH YURI’S NAME ON IT ??? AFTER FOUR MONTHS ???

like... it popped out of no where... AND THEN HALF AN HOUR LATER KQ ANNOUNCED SHES BACK AND THEN SHE WAS SEEN IN PUBLIC WITH NEW HAIR A FEW HOURS LATER AND THEN THE NEXT DAY HER FIRST SELCA AND FIRST UNIVERSE MESSAGE

SO MUCH WAS HAPPENING AT ONCE

the tl was in CHAOS

yuri trended for like two days in a row

and it wasn’t a hashtag or anything just yuri herself so she was like 💪💪💪 MY POWER

[sofreddie]

Serendipitous Souls 14

Summary: They belong together. All of them.

Characters: Dean x OC!Reader x Sam, Chuck

Warnings: SMUT, Threesome, Unprotected Sex, Double Penetration, Fluff

Word Count: 1,744

A/N: What can I say? It's a self-indulgent fic and my fantasies get a little wild. 😉

"One need only ask," Chuck said with a smile as he appeared before them once more. Sam and Dean moving in unison to block Y/N from the deity, "I'm not gonna hurt her," Chuck scoffed at their defenses, "I'm here to bond you."

"What's the catch?" Sam spat. They'd been waiting for Chuck to show up, to enact some greater plan.

"Okay fine," Chuck groaned before snapping his fingers. Y/N and Sam both gasped. The feeling was familiar to Y/N - having gone through it with Dean - just without all the 'ceremony'.

"If it's that easy, why did we have to do all that other stuff?" Dean asked skeptically.

Chuck smirked, "I'll see you soon." With that, Chuck was gone as suddenly as he'd appeared.

Both brothers turned to Y/N with worry, checking that she was okay.

"I'm fine," she forced out, "Overwhelmed and confused but...fine," she breathed out, looking between them helplessly. Dean took the lead, turning her towards him, Sam standing by helplessly behind her.

"Do you still want this?" Dean asked hesitantly, "Want us?" he clarified.

"I do," she was quick to reply, a bit of that serum still thrumming through her, "I do, I do. I'm just having a really hard time getting my brain to function and work through everything."

They waited patiently as she caught her breath and shook her head, trying to calm her nerves and confusion. So much had happened. So much had changed. She prided herself on being adaptable, but surely this would test anyone's limits?

She took a deep breath and locked her eyes on Dean, "I do," she promised, more confident and steady, "I feel you both. I want you both."

"Yours," they both promised. Sam's lips kissed along her neck and shoulders from behind as Dean kissed her breathless, tasting of her mouth and swallowing down her moans in a way that had become so familiar to the two of them.

Dean stepped back, brushing a thumb over Y/N's wet and parted lips. He cast a glance over her shoulder to Sam. In a flash, Sam had scooped her bridal style into his arms from behind, making her shout in surprise before giggling.

Sam smiled warmly at her as he traveled down the hall with her in his arms, Dean following close behind. Her brain had only a moment to register they were back in her and Dean's room. Sam sat her on her feet but didn't let her from his arms.

"You're sure?" he asked, looking down at her. He wanted her so much, to experience the love and passion Dean had detailed to him.

"Yes, Sam," she urged, pressing herself against him.

"We belong together," Dean stated once more, seeing Sam's hesitancy.

Y/N took the initiative, letting herself go in the moment, as she pulled Sam's lips to her own. He quickly melted into it, humming with the satisfied buzz that was flowing through him. It was that surge, like Dean had described, slowly filling every inch of him.

As he pulled from the kiss and looked into her eyes, he felt it. The connection to her, with her. Their souls recognizing each other. He glanced at his brother. In a weird way, he felt more connected to him too through her. Dean smiled reassuringly at Sam.

None of them were sure if it was their acceptance or Chuck's interference that suddenly saw them all bonded. None of them really cared as a peace and contentment settled over them. The familiarity of their pieces coming together as one overrode all else.

Taking a deep breath, Sam felt more at ease, and more in control. He took a step back, holding Y/N's gaze as Dean began slowly removing her clothing from behind. The two of them almost putting on a show for Sam.

Once she was naked, Dean ran his hands lovingly along her curves, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. Her head fell back against his shoulder as he continued peppering kisses along her neck.

His hands trailed back up to cup her breasts, massaging them and tweaking her nipples. He looked to his brother and gave a subtle nod to him. Sam swallowed hard and began undressing, his eyes trailing over every inch of her body.

At this point, Y/N was a mess. She already felt more wound up and needy than she'd ever felt in her life. Dean's familiar hands and lips coasting her body, working all the little spots he'd discovered and learned in their short time together.

Before long they were all nude and laying across the bed, Y/N between the brothers as they lavished attention over her sensitive and responsive flesh.

"Wanna taste you," Sam mumbled against her skin as he worked his way down, leaving wet kisses to cool in the air. Dean grabbed her knee, hiking her leg over his hip, opening her wide for Sam.

Sam gave a soft kiss to her folds before opening her with his thumbs. Without warning he dove in, his mouth sucking and slurping away at her sensitive flesh. She squirmed against the brothers, Dean holding her tight and in place as he worked one breast with his hand, his teeth worrying at the skin of her neck relentlessly.

As Sam slid his fingers inside of her, she was lost to the bliss of the brothers attentions. She didn't notice the silent exchange between them. She didn't notice Dean reaching into the side table and retrieving a small bottle. She didn't notice the sound of the bottle opening.

"Want you here," Dean whispered into her ear as his fingers gently grazed her puckered hole. She gasped, his touch sending sparks through her but also making her a little nervous. They hadn't done that before. And she's certainly never had two guys at once before.

But she'd be damned if she didn't at least try.

"Yes," she breathily responded, feeling her climax cresting as Sam urged it from her. As she came, Dean took the opportunity to work a lubed digit into her from behind. Sam and Dean worked in tandem to guide her through her climax and open her up for them.

By the time they were all ready, they were shaking in anticipation and nerves.

Y/N went to move, trying to figure out a position for their endeavors, when Dean's hand held her firmly in place by the hip.

"Just like this," he said as he placed a tender kiss behind her ear. He grabbed her knee once more, opening her up as before.

"Tell us if you want to stop, okay?" Sam asked of her, cupping her cheek and making her meet his tender gaze, "We don't want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable."

Y/N smiled sweetly at Sam, her heart swelling from the care they were both giving her. She could feel them through the bonds and she was sure they could feel her too. With that in mind, she relaxed her heart, letting the walls come down and the truth of her emotions shine through.

She could hear them both gasp before Sam captured her lips in a searing kiss. He entered her slowly and smoothly, stopping when he could go no further. She felt perfect, so tight and warm. He kissed her again as Dean entered her from behind, just as cautious.

They all had to take a moment to adjust and catch their breath. The intensity of it all was almost too much to bear, the pleasure beyond anything they'd felt before.

And they hadn't even moved yet.

Winsync had never thrilled her more then at that moment, the two men moving in tandem in and out of her with long, smooth strokes. She could die right now and be happy. In fact, she might actually be dead and in Heaven. She didn't really care, as long as they never stopped moving, never stopped touching and caressing her.

Every inch of her body was a livewire, strung with tension and desperate for release. Sam and Dean drove her higher and further with every move, but kept her just out of reach of her blissful release. It didn't take her long to realize they were doing it on purpose, drawing out the experience.

Her desperation and frustration won out as she quickly found her clit with her fingers and began rubbing tight little circles. Sam grabbed her hand and pulled it away from her core, kissing the tips of her fingers before placing her hand against his chest and holding it there.

"Let us get you there," Sam breathed against her lips, kissing her once more.

"Need to cum," she begged, nearly delirious.

"Wanna cum together," Dean grunted, giving a harsher thrust. Sam groaned before too delivering a harder thrust. Y/N screamed out affirmations and pleas and Sam and Dean gave into their desires, fucking her harder and harder until she finally exploded in blissful release.

Her clenching drove them both over the edge, Sam following right after Dean as they emptied deep inside of her.

Dean was the first to move, withdrawing with a wince, before climbing from the bed to clean himself up and retrieve a washcloth. As Dean left the bed, Sam rolled Y/N to her back, resting his body over hers while still inside of her.

He kissed her breathless before Dean cleared his throat to interrupt, offering wet washcloths for the both of them. Sam reluctantly withdrew and accepted the cloth while Dean cleaned up Y/N.

She lay there, eyes closed and a dopey grin plastered onto her face. She couldn't believe that just happened. Happy couldn't begin to describe what she felt.

"You okay?" Dean chuckled, nudging his nose against hers and pecking her lips.

"I am the happiest, luckiest woman alive," she breathed out, eyes still closed as her grin grew. Both brothers laughed.

"Guess that truth spell is still in effect," Sam mused.

"We're the lucky ones, Babe," Dean added, pecking her lips once more. Y/N turned on her other side, curling into Dean's chest, letting him hold onto her.

Sam momentarily hesitated, just looking at the two of them, before Y/N's arm reached behind her, pulling Sam to her back and his arm around her waist. She hummed and settled into her spot between them, smile still in place as she drifted off to sleep.

Sam and Dean smiled and placed kisses upon her before following her into a peaceful, deep slumber.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

Serendipitous Souls:

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@xhannahbananax03

@440mxs-wife

@crist1216

@deans-baby-momma

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Chasing Providence {Dimitrescu/OC} Pt 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairings: TBA, at minimum platonic House Dimitrescu/OC, with some wlw side characters (also original, but not the focus of the story) Rating: T for mild violence and possibly triggering content Warnings: A character briefly threatens suicide as a means of prolonging a conversation (i.e. saying "if you don't listen, I'll ___") Additionally, this contains spoilers for Resident Evil 8. Summary: Months after being infected with a mysterious virus, investigative journalist Avaskian Caldwell is left with no choice: Xe has to get help, one way or another, from whatever remains of the Umbrella Corporation could be trusted. Or, perhaps, from the very person who started it all... Along the way xe'll have to get along with vampires, fight off would be hunters, befriend a hoard of cultists, all while performing the duties of an everyday servant. There's nothing xe won't try as xe's forced to chase providence. Notes: While this chapter features a somewhat talkative Ava, xe's normally selectively mute, and will be for the entire rest of the story.

1: Blood Runs Thick

“This can’t be it. No fucking way, bruv, are you sure you got the address right?” The journalist asked, eyes narrowed as xe stared out into the distant hills. One hand held a phone, currently without any signal, while the other kept a tentative grip on the van’s door handle. To their side was the driver, a middle-aged man with relatively little patience. When he replied, it was in a language the journalist didn’t speak, but could clearly understand as a swirl of profanity. “Alright, alright, I get it. Not like I could afford to pay you to take me back, anyway… I’ll just, uh, be going then. Try to have a nice day, eh, you old chap?” With that said xe opened the door, hopping out rather eagerly. After tucking xer phone into xer pocket, xe quickly gathered xer bags from the trunk, half expecting the man to drive off before xe had a chance.

Surprisingly, he stayed all the way until the journalist gave two hard pats to the van’s side. Then he practically slammed the gas pedal, speeding off in a whirling cloud of dust and kicked up rocks, promptly sending xer into a coughing fit. Curse these feeble lungs, xe thought, scowling. Absent-mindedly xe put a hand to xer throat, silently checking if xer, ahem, ‘wounds’ were still covered. Once satisfied, xe turned to the long, winding path into the village. Was this truly where the ever-elusive “Miranda” could be found? What in the blazes of hell was a scientist like herself doing here, in a mostly empty stretch of Romania? The thought sent a rush of anxiety to the journalist’s chest, as xe wondered if this “Miranda” would even consider helping xer. Xe hoped that, at the least, xer unique case would get her attention.

In the end, it took xer twice as long as expected to reach the village proper. There were no signs along the path, nor signs of life, other than countless dead birds, hung like falling leaves from every tree. Once, a display this gnarly would have made bile rise up in xer throat. But these days? After everything xe had researched? This was no hell, not when compared to the bombed ruin that was Raccoon City. Yet xe still cut xer hand when hopping the barbed wire fence, as if once again a rookie, too desperate for the truth to see the proper world. Fresh blood dropped onto the snow, but xe allowed xerself no wince nor complaint, instead focused on the figures moving in the distance. Strangers. Nay, sources. Someone would know something about the mysterious Miranda, even if they didn’t realize it.

So the journalist made haste, approaching as casually as xe could, considering the heavy traveler’s bag on xer shoulders, and the sturdy cane xe walked with. It was the latter that caught people’s attention first, as it click click clicked against the stone path. Before long there were several pairs of eyes on the journalist, some of them bearing thinly veiled hostility, others filled with nervousness.

“Who are you?” A man growls, stepping in front of a woman (his daughter, based on similar features, age difference) as he does. One of his fingers jabs into xer chest, daring them to take another move, carrying an unspoken threat within it. For a few seconds xe simply smiles at the man. Somewhat amused, xe hoped that xer natural charm would win the day, despite a quick glance telling them that most of these strangers were armed.

“I’m a journalist-” xe started to say, until the others moved their hands towards their holsters- “or at least I was, once. But I come asking for assistance, kindness from my fellow humans,” xe said, gesturing widely with xer arms. This made the others present pause, though the journalist wasn’t immediately sure that xe hadn’t just misspoken. Romanian was not xer first language. Or xer second, come to think of it. Oddly enough, however, it had clicked rather quickly in xer brain, as if xe had always been meant to speak it. “You may call me Avaskian Caldwell. Or just Ava, or just Kian, or just Vas, depending on your mood. Ah, but that hardly matters. I am here… to find a woman. Someone I have heard much about, a, how do you say… ‘marvel’ of science? They tell me she is called ‘Miranda’. Have I come to the-” xe do not get to finish that sentence. Before xe can understand what’s happening, someone has grabbed xer by the throat, attempting to life xer into the air.

For once in xer life, xe’s glad for the ‘extra insulation’.

“Fuck you, outsider, you don’t deserve to taint her name with your foul tongue!” The man shouts, squeezing xer throat, urged on by the jeering crowd. A smarter person would have been rather concerned at that point. But the journalist- Ava, as xe said- was not known for xer cleverness. That did not, however, stop xer from exhibiting cleverness. Taking advantage of xer ridiculous arm joints (which may or may not be doubled, possibly merely weird as fuck), xe reached into xer bag, ignoring the crowd’s scared reaction, retrieving an evidence bag. Inside of it: several broken vials, each marked with a symbol of terror. This is not a place of honor the symbol screamed. To the villagers, it meant something else, something older. To Ava? It meant the prophet of death, it meant Umbrella.

“I come bearing the sign of your village. I come bearing the scars of your Goddess,” Ava proclaims, raising the bag into the air. As soon as xe does, xe is released, the man scrambling backwards. Others turn away, some leaving, a handful gathering to pray. ‘Twas an odd display, but one that Ava preferred over a public execution. Only one person dares to approach: A woman, likely mid thirties, with dark eyes and darker hair. There’s a clear caution in her movements, as if it was taking all of her courage to not flee. “Do you perhaps know how I may reach Miranda? I am in dire need of her knowledge.” At this, the woman flinches, though her gaze lingers on Ava’s throat. It’s then that the journalist realizes xer collar was undone, exposing xer strange, ever-bleeding wound. The stranger does not speak until xe has covered the deformity.

“One does not simply reach Mother Miranda. But there are ways to get her attention, to ask for a, hmm, blessing,” she explains. With a sigh of relief, Ava starts to celebrate, eager to find a cure for what ailed xer. But the woman wasn’t done speaking, and her next words cut a thick line through xer hope. “It may take a few weeks, maybe less, but we can ensure your prayers are heard. Mother Miranda always rewards the faithful. Even those who start out as outsiders. In the end, all are welcome here, if they keep the faith in our Mother.”

“No, no, that won’t do!” Ava snaps, far harsher than intended. The woman flinches again, and xe starts to pace back and forth, trying to release xer pent up energy. “There has to be another way. Faster, more direct. I don’t-... I might not have time to wait. Please, please, anything you can do to help, even if it’s just pointing me in the right direction…” A gulp, eyes shining with unshed tears, a quiver of the lower lip. Falsehoods alike, directed for an honest purpose. Miranda was xer only hope for information- and, perhaps, for salvation. But the latter had never been Ava’s true priority.

“There might be one way, but it is dangerous. You’d be more likely to die on the path than reach your goal, if I am honest. Yet… if there is anyone in all the village who can grant you the audience you seek, it would be one of the four lords. If you are certain-” the woman could only watch as Ava nodded furiously, silently begging- “so be it. Follow me, but do not say I did not warn you. I do not want your spirit coming to haunt me for my act of pity.”

—————————

“An unexpected guest? How… delightful. Do tell me why you even bothered to drag this miscreant before me, Cynthia?” Lady Alcina Dimitrescu asked, with a scowl, staring down at the fragile human in question. Of all the things she had expected to find, once her head servant called her, this was not one of them. An intruder would have been more likely. Perhaps even more fun, if Alcina felt like letting her daughters join in the resulting feast. But this ‘thing’ was hardly worth her time. They were short, although admittedly somewhat plump, with a scent that implied illness. For once, she could not pinpoint the exact disease by smell alone. Not that she cared, really. ‘Twas simply… interesting.

“Please, allow me to introduce myself. You may call me Avaskian Caldwell, and I come with an… offer. With mutual benefits, I assure you, Lady Dimitrescu,” the journalist answered, giving a deep bow. Despite xer manners, Alcina seemed unimpressed, even irritated by the display. Still, she gestured with her right hand, encouraging xer to get on with it. “I am in need of a meeting, specifically one with the much beloved, dearly respected Mother Miranda. In exchange, I offer two things: The sweat of my brow, and the blood in my veins.” Much to xer displeasure, Alcina replied with loud laughter before fixing xer with a hard stare.

“Pray tell, little thing, what makes you think I won’t simply take your blood now, hmm?” She muses, cackling again, ignoring the way her servant flinched at the sound. But Ava did not waiver, instead simply reaching into xer sleeve. Slowly xe pulled out something metallic, speaking firmly as xe did.

“For one, Mother Miranda would certainly dislike losing out on this opportunity,” xe started to say, unable to stop xerself from smirking. Then the knife fully exited xer sleeve, dancing in the light, before pressing against xer own throat. It was certainly a unique threat. Instantly Alcina rises to her feet, only pausing when she realizes that she wasn’t the one in danger. “Secondly, my blood is worth more if I am alive. You see, I have a wretched ‘condition’, which does a handful of lovely, lovely, life-threatening things to this poor vessel of mine. But someone as intelligent as yourself could find plenty of use for my so-called ‘illness’. If you give me a chance to explain, that is.” Though she does not sit back down, or even nod, it quickly becomes clear that Alcina did not intend to interrupt. Yet. “Grand, grand! I do appreciate it, my Lady. Now, let me just grab the research I brought with me…”

Never once lowering the knife from xer throat, Ava digs into xer bag, forced to briefly clip xer cane to xer belt. Then xe retrieves a closed manilla folder, carefully handing it to the giantess in front of xer. Wordlessly Alcina accepts the item, opening it to peruse its contents, only pausing to put on a pair of reading glasses. A minute of quiet passes before Ava continues xer explanation.

“I heal faster than anyone else on your staff, guaranteed. Hell, I cut my hand down in the village, on some damned wire, and the wound has already closed back up, good as new. That means, of course, that if someone were to let’s say… remove some of my blood, well, it wouldn’t take too long for me to get more, now would it? Obviously there has to be some biological counter, some form of payment for my ability. The rule of equivalent exchange, and all that, yes? As it stands… I eat an extra slice of bread a day. That’s it. Nothing bad enough to cancel out the boon of my blood. My… extensive reservoir of blood. Interesting, yes?” Ava says, still as charming as ever, despite the indescribable terror in xer chest. If there was one thing that xe had learned as a journalist, it was how to hide xer fear. Which was plenty useful, in the current situation, especially when Alcina flips a page to reveal the one downside to xer condition.

“Don’t tell me you came all this way to try and deceive me. Here I was, beginning to think something of you, and you hand me a sheet that says it clear as candlelight: Your blood is dirty. Infected. I won’t be drinking it anytime soon, nor would I even consider allowing it to be used for my family’s wine!” Alcina is essentially yelling at this point. But Ava only takes a step forward, smile present but trembling, and gestures for her to turn the page. With narrowed eyes she does, quickly reading through the notes. Once, then a pause, then once more. Finally she closes the folder, setting it down upon her desk. “Fascinating. You are indeed a… unique case. I cannot guarantee you a meeting with Mother Miranda, and even if I do, it will be because of your condition. She will use you, as is her divine right to do, likely without ever once considering attempting to cure you. But if you are determined to meet her, well,” Alcina leans in with her own grin, sending chills down Ava’s spine, “I will not stop you. Here’s hoping you manage to give me plenty of blood before you ‘expire’. Cynthia, show her to the servants’ quarters. I expect her to be working by tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”

Although Ava could not help but twitch at the Lady’s choice of pronouns, xe had expected this. Eventually xe would explain the indefinite nature of xer gender. Or perhaps xe was doomed to die a horrific, tragic death long before xe ever had the opportunity. Either way, xe could not help but feel a small sense of elation, pleased to have made some progress towards xer goal. Three steps forward and two steps back was still, cumulatively, a step forward. In time, xe would likely come to regret this series of choices. But who among us could say they held no regrets at all? And if, in the end, this storyteller came away with one hell of a story… wouldn’t that outweigh the regret? Even if Ava did not know it, xe would one day learn a valuable lesson from the strange family xe now worked for: Blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb. Oh, and what a lovely covenant it would be.