#ashers snippets

[bassguitarinablackt-shirt]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN BESTIE TRICK OR TREAT

i have decided to come to your door outfitted as the amazing celeste ✨

WHY, HELLO THERE ARA :D WHAT A LOVELY COSTUME YOU HAVE ON

i choose....treat! and for your treat you shall have the official start to power doesn't guarantee glory/memories of a world long gone

The ruins were beautiful: pillars and arches reaching up into the clouds, the broken stone bridge standing tall as a reminder of the world that once was, with the vast blue sky and hormonal teenagers standing as a reminder of the world that now is.

[bassguitarinablackt-shirt]

ayyy thanks for the tag!

He grinned, not a smile- a grin. Jesse has no idea how people think of fifteen year olds as innocent, they're all little goblins who take joy in causing suffering.

"Here goes nothing..." He whispered to no one but himself. As he gripped the doorknob with one hand he felt Jackie grab his other, the door opened with a creak. Something felt off as he walked in, he ignored it.

Affection swelled in his chest for his two sleeping friends. There was no guarantee they wouldnt leave but right here, in this moment, they were there. (And maybe that's enough)

He blinked his eyes open, as light entered his eyes he felt a sense of wrongness. Everything about this place was wrong. The walls were white instead of the cedar brown he was used to, Corvus was happily sitting in his cage like always, Arty's bed wasn't where it should be; it wasn't there at all.

I was five when I found the girl who I would call my sister. It was a nice day in Valerine county, the sun was bright but it wasn't too hot, there was a nice breeze rolling through the town. I was roaming the streets, looking for someone nice enough to give me food, or perhaps a merchant who left their stall unattended. Just then, I spotted someone; a girl only about a few years older than me, she had straight brown hair that was falling down her shoulders, more importantly she was carrying a basket of apples.

"Well, how does it taste? Is it good? Too sweet, too bitter, too hot?" Nathalie asked, far too excited if you ask Orion, who resided in the kitchen. He, much like his sister, could not actually enjoy any of the tea or sweets prepared, so he decided to relax with a book after helping Nathalie get everything ready.

Loving you is the only thing I ever did right or maybe, even that too was wrong. Perhaps letting you into my life was the worst mistake I've ever made.

Honestly not sure how i feel about these but they're not the worst ive written?

Tagging @clearcloudlesssky @sneebl @imslowlydisintegrating @sm-writes-chaos @fire-but-ashes-too @enne-uni @the-teen-writer (no pressure!)

Seven Snippets, Seven People Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag @awleeofficial! This is a new one for me too ahaha

Rules: Post seven snippets and tag seven people!

I will use seven different WIPs!

Love and Other Lies

It's the dawn, and Ryn likes to believe that he rises with the sun, akin to the way a morning glory blossoms under the sunlight.

Blood Moon

The breeze blows softly outside, bringing with it the subtle scent of autumnal spice. Outside Julienne Toussaint’s open window, the midday sun beats down on the falling leaves stricken with lush gold, vibrant red, dull orange and crisp brown, making them seem to glow.

Cherry Blossoms (a short story)

“I love the nature here,” Angel smiled, eyes sparkling as they skated across the landscape surrounding them. “I get to tend to everything here, and it’s so beautiful to create luscious life out of nothing but a few tiny seeds.” He looks down at the hands clasped in his lap, fair eyelashes casting pale shadows along his cheekbones. “I love my plants. They are what’s left of my family.”

Troubled Waters

"Sometimes, when one walks along the thin line where the ocean rises up to meet soft sand, it's possible to hear a soft singing. It's said that the souls of heartbroken people are forever trapped in these waters. Sometimes the singing turns into wailing, broken noises showing pain, for the mermaids cannot cry."

Dynasty

“Love,” the warlock had told me, fixing me with his bright crimson irises, “love is the most powerful and most dangerous force to have existed. Love has killed more than every disease combined. Mortals will do crazy, unspeakable things in the name of love.” 

Part of Your World (a fic collab with @faceglitchsworld)

The island of Crescent-Moon is a delightful place to grow up. With turquoise waters hugging its banks and an intricate village filled with generous people, there is a place for everybody on the island, or at least that’s how Teresa feels. 

Creatures of the Night (a vampire fic I'm working on)

“Want to go out for a bite?” he says, a seductive smirk playing upon his lips. His crimson eyes burn into her, gaze resting near the hollow of her neck, and for a second, she's not entirely sure he’s talking about food.

These kind of suck I'm so sorry but I can't think of anything else that's newer that I've written.

I'll tag @dancinginsepia, @worldsfromhoney, @ashfordlabs, @bassguitarinablackt-shirt, @ko0l-k1dd0, @holdmyteaplease and @briannaswords only if you want!

[arrowfleur]

I’m a simple girl…I see Quinn with the Shaw pack & Sam n Darlin smut and I immediately had to send an ask🥰🥰

Hello Lovely anon! Thank you so much for the ask :))

I actually started writing the Sam/Darlin fic MONTHS ago and then we got a new Sam BA that was, almost, the exact same as my fic lol so i did end up having to start re-writing it! I won’t post an excerpt simply because I don’t know if you’re a minor or not, but I can tell you it involves Darlin working on Sam’s car and will be posted here when finished, for the 18+ folks!

As for the Quinn fic. It is an alternate version of how things could have gone down, focussing more on the blood bond and how the Shaw pack could use it to their advantage. It’ll include most things that Quinn fics do so expect a lot of hurt-comfort and some bad-ass fighting from the wolves and listeners!

It’s already pretty long and a multi-chapter fic so I’ll be posting it chapter by chapter once complete but I’ll share a snippet below <3

CW: heated discussion, mention of hunt’s and potential death

[mostboringcrossover]

The Yule Ball

Another bell another class, and Asher was eager to get out. The entire lesson he was yawning and blonking sleep from his eyes as he fought to stay awake and pay attention. Usually he'd love to sit in Professor Shahs class, but after an entire night of hunting down ashwinders and poachers after curfew, he was beat. Almost a year after Harlow and Rookwood were taken down, and still followers persisted. As the boy gathered his papers snd slung them into his bag, footsteps rapidly approached behind him. Then an excited calling of his name was heard.

"Asher!" A farmiliarly boisterous voice called from behind him. As Asher turned around, he jumped and yelped as none other than Garreth Weasley and Leander Prewett approached him, Leander more calmly than his other. Garreth stopped with a halt, his shoes screeching against the marble flooring. He slung his freckled arm around Asher shoulder and shook him frantically. "Are you excited?! Well of course you're excited, it' the yule!"

Asher reached out and grabbed at Garreth to get him to stop. "The- The what...?" Asher croaked out, holding a hand to his head in an attempt to cease the dizziness that was caused by the sleep deprivation combining with the shaking.

"The yule ball." Leander piped up, putting a hand on Garreths shoulder in a helpful attempt to get Garreth to stop shaking the poor boy. Garreth stepped back and let Asher go, flashing an apologetic yet charming smile. Leander began again, "The yule ball in an event that is meant to take place along the Tri Wizard Tournament. There's music, dancing, good company-"

"And girls!" Garreth interjected. Leander sighed like a dissapointed mother.

"Yes, and girls. Don't see why that's the most important bit." Leander bit the inside of his cheek.

"Oh- Well uhm- I don't know, guys... I don't think it would be much of my thing..." Asher tried to find some excuse, a way to get his friends to let it go, but Garreth wasn't having it. Garreth was the energy in the trio. He was always bright and sunny, while Leander was more cool and collected, if a bit emotional at times. The boisterous young man sprang into action, grabbing Ashers hand and pulling his towards the doorway.

"No way you're getting out of this! You spend so much time outside the castle! You need to work on your game!" Garreth argued, a sly smile on his face as he dragged the poor Asher out of the classroom.

"Garreth! Don't pull on him like that! You're going to pull his shoulder out of his socket." Leander followed closely, the two now talking loudly with eachother. Garreth vouching for Ashers lack of charisma, and Leander arguing that he needed to let Asher hand go and let him walk on his own.

"Guys! H-Hold on I- Slow down!" Ashers crying out was futile as he was dragged hopelessly out to the courtyard by Garreth to find him a suitable girl to go with to the ball.

Little did they know, none of the girls would compare to the one person Asher actually wanted to ask...

[no-more-tales-tavern]

Rough gif starters 10A Keyleth thought she could end the conflict before it could begin. She should have prepared more or not come alone. Now her body and mind were about to be another conquest for Asher, and she would not be the last before he was done. (@heroes-den)

Rough Sex Gifs: 10A

Keyleth felt the breath forced from her lungs in a sudden gasp, the firm and steady smack of hips against her ass making her whole body shudder and buck in place. Her hands pressed into the soft ground under her, bracing herself against the assault, while her gaze remained fixed on the shattered remains of her staff laying before her.

She had failed.

She had come here with the bold and heroic purpose of stamping out the rising coup and defeating their leader, yet he’d possessed power and skill she had not been prepared for. The fight, if it could be called that, had been swift, and within moments she found herself disarmed, disrobed, and shoved down into the ground.

A hand suddenly gripped tight to one of the large handlers of her headdress and she gasped as she was jerked backwards, her head arching up. Her breath caught in her chest again, and she found herself moaning as the hand’s mate smacked across her rear—her lips parting in a desperate cry of pleasure, her nails digging into the soft loam as she felt herself overwhelmed.

“So much for the wise and powerful leader of the Ashari~” Asher, the fallen aasimar conqueror, smirked down at her, pulling her back until she was pressed against his chest, her wild gaze tilted up to stare into his face. “Nothing but a helpless little whore, now, aren’t you~?”

Keyleth gasped and panted at his ruthless thrusts—her eyes were wide and wild as she stared up at him, heart pounding in her chest—but as her lips parted in reply, she felt them twist into a lewd smile, and felt the words tumble unbidden from her lips.

“Y-Yes~ yes~! Ah~! I’m your whore~! I’m your whore~! Fuck me, master~ fuck your helpless little whore more~!!”

The fallen Aasimar chuckled darkly at her lustful plea and immediately crashed his lips to hers, silencing her as he lifted her off the ground against his chest. His hips seemed to jackhammer more wildly into her plump and pillowy ass, intent on giving his new slave exactly what she craved—while the former Ashari leader felt herself melt more and more into the passionate desire for the man ruining her so good.

[aimedis]

STILL MAD AT ME, SWEETHEART? - MILO GREER/SWEETHEART

i said i'd write a fanfic from @stupd000 's post milo “you still mad at me?” greer sooo here it is. this is more of a drabble though 😭

(this one's for you @annahxredaxted 🫵)

cw - aftermath of an argument, snippet of the argument as well, tooth-rotting fluff, milo being milo

wc - 0.5k

Sweetheart rouses back to the waking world to the feeling of a hand cupping their cheek. Their eyes squeeze together before they flutter open slightly to see Milo standing in front of them.

"Sweetheart... hey," He whispers, an ever-present smile on his face.

They hum, closing their eyes again, "Good morning.."

Milo grins even wider, "Good morning. Sleep well?"

Sweetheart makes a noncommittal noise and they shift away from the edge of the bed, patting the pillow Milo would've been sleeping on had he not been on an overnight security gig.

Milo doesn't hesitate to slide into bed with his mate, having already changed into pyjamas. He doesn't move to hold onto them as he usually would, trying to tread carefully after last night's argument.

Milo sighs into the phone, "Listen to me, Sweetheart, it's literally not that big of a deal."

Sweetheart's voice comes in frustrated, "Yes it is, asshole. You always do this."

Milo scoffs, "No, it's not and I do not."

Sweetheart groans, "Yes it is. And you always say you don't."

"I do not!"

"You do! You don't have to cover for everyone all the time."

"Damn hypocrite. Seriously, do you hear yourself speak sometimes?"

They huff, "This isn't fucking about me, Milo. I'm just asking you to relax. This is the fifth time."

He raises an eyebrow, "And when I tell you to do the same thing, I'm in the wrong?"

"That's different-"

Milo laughs humorlessly, "It's fucking not, Sweetheart, and you know it. Stop acting high and mighty and go to sleep already," He raises his voice slightly against his better judgement, "You're being so difficult."

Sweetheart goes quiet for a moment on the other line.

Asher gives Milo a worried look, going to open his mouth when Milo waves him off.

"You're so damn annoying, Milo, you know that?" Sweetheart grumbles.

Milo sighs again, "Yeah, I know, you too. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

They breathe a hollow laugh, "I know. I don't wanna fight on the phone. Come home safely, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

However, Sweetheart reaches over to wrap their arms around him, their eyes still closed.

"You're so damn far.." They pout.

Milo hums, a smile still playing on his lips as he wraps his arms around their waist, "My bad, baby. You still mad at me?"

Sweetheart opens their eyes to look at their mate.

He looks beautiful, as he always does. The sun that filters through the curtains settles on his face and reflects off his eyes, making him look angelic. And his hair is messy from how he continuously runs his hands through it when he doesn't sleep enough. Even with the subtle bags under his eyes, he looks gorgeous. As much as Milo loves getting dressed up to the nines, Sweetheart has a special appreciation for a less put-together Milo. A Milo that's a little more comfortable breaking down and being vulnerable. A Milo that only they get to see.

"Furious..." they whisper even as they get lost in his eyes.

Still, Milo laughs, leaning forward to kiss their forehead, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Just keep your ass in bed," Sweetheart says as they snuggle closer to him, pressing their face into his chest.

"Ohhh yeah?" He smirks, "What are we gonna do in bed, huh-?"

"Go to sleep, Greer."

━━━━━━━━━━━━

blah blah milo sweetheart asher mention eyeroll eyeroll kiss innuendo sweetheart baby milo werewolf cuddles greer mwah mwah i love you sleep and post

[isheamiable2008]

🚨Onyx Storm Spoilers🚨

.

.

My initial thoughts and theories:

1) Naolin is venin (possibly the head venin), which means Sloane developed her siphon signet to be his balance.

2) Dain has a second signet. I don’t know why or how, but he does, and it will be one of the big six that is meant to be the balance to a dark wielder. Either that or he can develop his memory reading to be a full blown inntinsic. Sloane said he has too much power, so there is definitely something more there.

3) Sloane has a second signet too (obviously).

4) Violet is going to pull some Inception stuff next book. Maybe even dream walk with day dreams (she possibly already has)?

5) Bodhi turned venin, which meant there was no one left from their family to rule Tyrrendor, which is why Xaden married Violet and made her the Duchess before he took off. Obviously Violet did this willingly, but made Imogen take her memories of it, probably to keep it all secret and/or to not deal with the emotional pain.

6) Garrick is missing because he is stealing the dragon eggs that they need to make the deal with that one isle to get another army.

7) Berwyn is a dream walker, so Violet developed that as her second signet to be the balance to him (although I do think there is more to her second signet than what we initially know or think).

8) Melgren might actually be venin, which is why Aaric developed precognition (to be his balance).

9) Violet might be pregnant and carrying the heir of Tyrrendor. Theophanie said she reeked of his kin. She got dizzy and felt weird a lot in this book.

10) No clue how this would tie in, but could Lilith have had an affair? We see in the snippets at the beginning of the chapters that she was angry with Asher for taking Violet to be dedicated at the temple and she said she might not ever be able to forgive him, and then we also see her unsent correspondence that doesn’t have a stated recipient and doesn’t address anyone by name, but simply as “my love”. Weird. (Could just be her writing him letters after he died as a sort of outlet for her.)

11) Lilith knew someone who turned venin and sought to cure them. That’s why she was asking if there was a cure. Maybe she knew what really happened with Naolin (or at least part of it) and wanted to cure him for Brennan’s sake?

12) Theophabie implied that she had faced Lilith before, right?

13) Violet could still communicate and somewhat wield at times on the isles because she was bonded to Andarna and as the other irids said, Andarna IS magic.

14) The closer the isles get to the island of the irids, the more magic they have.

(I know I had more, but I can’t remember now. I should’ve taken notes while reading.)

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

Darlin’ nightmare snippet

Here’s a lil snippet I wrote about Darlin’s dreams. I don’t think this’ll turn into a full fic, it’s a very nebulous idea. Inspired by some convos with @romirola, my redacted writing bestie 💗.

The dream was always the same. You, shifted, panting, teeth bared against a threat. Something invisible, something haunting, something looming over you from all directions. You, turning, prowling, herding pack behind you, trying desperately to guard them on all sides. Sometimes it was David or Asher or Milo. Worse, sometimes it was their mates. Sometimes it was all of them, the whole pack, huddled together and helpless.

Sometimes it was just Sam, staring at you with those wide, silver eyes. Waiting. Expectant.

Sometimes you won. It felt like a game of cat and mouse, and sometimes you caught whatever was hunting them between your teeth. The crunch of it, the hot tang of blood in your throat, the weight of success drawing you back down to peaceful sleep. It was all so fucking satisfying.

Sometimes you lost. You never got hurt. It was always them. You’d turn to find Asher missing, you’d hear Milo’s scream somewhere unseen. You’d find David, his brick wall of a body broken down and twisted at your feet. You’d watch the pack snatched away one by one into the darkness around you. David’s little mate torn into pieces. Asher’s mate calling your name, crying out for you as their voice died along with them. The dark, dead eyes of Milo’s mate staring back at you.

You always had to watch, your legs stiff and unmoving, as it (whatever it was, you could never really see) consumed Sam. You watched every painful twist of his face, every splatter of blood, every dying gasp as he was snuffed out in front of you.

He always knew when the dream went that way. He said your heart rate tipped him off, but you thought it had something to do with the mate bond. There was no tangible, provable magic behind it, but you knew better. David’s mate had called you a half hour before Milo did on the night of the E&E, swearing that in their core they knew something was horribly wrong. Asher’s mate had doubled over in pain at one point, gasping out that Asher was dead, that they knew it, that they couldn’t bear it. You’d only find out later that that moment had aligned almost perfectly with Asher’s meeting with a particular shade.

So it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility that Sam’s core reacted to your distress, even if it was in a way he couldn’t articulate. He’s gently pull you towards him, wake you slowly, softly, murmuring comforts into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You’d told him about the dreams eventually, mapped out the variations. He listened to intently, nodding and not interrupting as you spoke.

“I just don’t know who I’m protecting them all from.” You sighed, pushing your hair back from your face. Sam contemplated it for a moment. That was something you appreciate about Sam. He chose his words carefully.

“What is it that Carl Jung says?” He finally asked. “‘Everybody in your dreams is you.’”

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Slow process is still process

Finally done with chapter 2 of draft 2.

5k/100k rewritten

It's been a long time since I shared any real snippets, so hopefully this one will do

"The man you've brought into our midst is not born of flesh and blood. Instead starlight flows beneath his skin. The vessel of a God, slumbering."

A God.

But he looks so... human. Sasha has felt his weight while carrying him. A tangible form that somehow ended up in a ditch and was able to be picked up by a random stranger. It all sounds perplexing and yet, Sasha has no reason to doubt the Sovereign's words.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"What do humans do with Gods aside from worshiping them?" The Spirit Sovereign's answer rings as true as the rising and setting of the sun. A pattern that has repeated itself from time immemorial. "But a vessel is no God, not truly. For that he needs to be awakened at Astra Lacuna."

While the Spirit Sovereign speaks in a calm and even tone, their words unleash in Sasha the instinct to run far away from this place. Let them keep the vessel, let them awaken this God from his slumber. It has nothing to do with him.

"You cannot run from ----" A deafening crackle drowns out the last of their words, as if the sky is splitting in half. It rumbles like an enraged beast, demands his attention and holds no qualms into taking it by force.

The same way it steals the air from his lungs, forceful and unyielding. A pressure forms around the crown of his head and tightens in an attempt to pulverise his skull.

The whole room is plunged in darkness for a split second before the Sovereign's blue light blinks back into existence.

Much like how Sasha tried to blot out the stars last night.

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @nekrops-shaped, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords

@sunshineomeara, @zonnemaagd, @cheeto-flavoured-pasta, @inadequatecowboy

[archive245]

Legacy of gods head cannons: Kiss the Villain

Gareth

- Gareth and Killian used to be really close before the whole mouse incident (FUCK ASHER)

- Like Gareth would let Kill sleep with him at night if he had a nightmere or would just fall asleep while playing lego or gaming together

- Like Gareth used to be Killians role model with how he always took care of him

- Like all older siblings he felt the need to care for his younger brother, that forced him to mature pretty quickly compared to others

- He kept trying to take care and protect Kill after the whole incident but since he kept distancing him from him, they both drifted apart and while kill developed a resentment towards him, gareth believed he deserved it and that he failed as an older sibling

- Due to his image of being the golden boy of the group and family he relies heavily on academic validation

- Prob cried several times (In secret obviously) if he got a bad grade

- Very this is me trying, the prophecy, and you’re on your own kid

- Always felt like the second chance, probably because as he got older he saw how everyone wanted killian, how all his past girlfriends prob slept with killian first, then after he dropped them they came to him and after a while he got used to that

- He never loved anyone romantically before kayden

- Loves call me by your name (prob his bi or gay awakening

- Reads and studies to escape reality

- Sucks at math, hence why he chose to major in law

- The stalker psycho genes run in his DNA, hence why he developed an obsession with professor lockwood

- I would die for gareth to be the one whose like “Your mine, let anyone touch you ill kill them” instead of kayden being the one whose like that

- I like to believe that hes Bi, but we’ll figure it out during his book 🤔

- Never takes naps, thinks their for the weak

- Surprisingly has a normal sleep schedule

- Compulsively cracks his knuckles when nervous, anxious or feels uncomfortable

- Mild to Moderate OCD nothing serious where he loses his mind if a colour pencil is in the wrong place but like likes to have things in order and in the same places

- Hates having things misplaced, it developed as killian would mess up things to mess with him over in the long run made him hate disorder

- Hates losing control, of literally anything, his emotions, his surroundings, anything

- Cold hands 24/7 365 probable due to consistently being in fight or flight

- Kill is known as the strategist but gareth is the ones who plan all the heathens stuff like for the initiation he was the one who set the time, place, text message, etc. Hes in charge of all the smaller details

- Wears the white dress shirts with sweaters, yk with the collar poking through (UGHHHHH 🤤)

Kayden Lockwood

- GLASSES GLASSES GLASSES

- From the limited snippet we got about him from GoF and GoR I definitely think gareth would make the first move, subtle hints like sitting at the front of the lecture halls, asking questions (or dare I say arguing with something Kayden said just to talk to him 🫢), going to every👏single👏office👏hours👏, etc very sublte things yk

- The type of professor to ask if you want to a dance infront of the class instead of a final exam

- Only uses blue pens (Idk why but yes) (switches to green pens after getting into a relationship with gareth, i wonder why)

- Very nonchalant i think, and would prob brush off gareth little crush on him because lets be real he prob had hundreds of students have a crush on him

- But little did he know gareth crush would be different from the others in was that yk be would follow him around in his car, and stalk around his favourite grocery stores

- That would prob get his attention and instead if being creeped I think he would be interested

- Doesnt drink, doesnt smoke but gets high off the feeling of winning chess games

- Doesnt do with technology (even though he’s in his early to mid thirties) and has a battle with the projector every lecture

- Gareth will definitely make fun of him for not getting Gen z slang

- Insomniac who lives off coffee

- Teaches criminal law, and was at a big city law firm before he became a professor

- Has a 4.5 on rate my professor, and one 4 review on his profile made him loose his perfect 5.0 rating, hes still very salty about that

♫ྀི love me like you do - ellie goulding, illict afairs - taylor swift, dirty little secret - nessa barrett, guilty as sin - taylor swift, love wins all - IU

[grilledcheezy92]

@gremlin-writes-angst had some thoughts on Brother's Best Friend AU Asher x Darlin and I got bit by the bug again.

Just some snippets of a WIP that probably won't turn into more

Hope you enjoy~

"You deserve better."

"You're just jealous that I'm getting dicked down."

"As if." It made his stomach turn to hear them talk like that. Like all they were good for was their body and the pleasure it could give someone else.

~~

"BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU. GOD WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?"

"You-" half a breath that could have been a scoff or a laugh. "You don't mean that. You can't mean that. Not that way. Right? You- you mean like a brother, Ash, right?" They were laughing at him. He'd just spilled his guts in word vomit at their feet and their laughter was coming in short little gasps.

He didn't answer, gaze skirting over their head.

Their laughter died off and he forced himself to keep his gaze up as he felt their hands on him, snaking up and around his neck, pressing themself to him, he almost melted feeling their lips against his jaw, the corner of his mouth. He could have given in, could have claimed their lips with his own, held their face like it was made to fit into his hands alone. He almost parted his lips, feeling their teeth graze against them. But then they breathed words against his skin

"I love you too." And he couldn't do it. He's seen this from the outside too many times.

Asher carefully, gently unhooked their arms from around the back of his neck and placed his hands on the sides of their rib cage to push them away.

"Don't do this," he said, barely above a whisper. "You can't play me like you do with everyone else."

"Asher?" He shook his head and stepped back.

"I've gotta go."

~~

"You know the reason you hide it from David. You can't even admit it to yourself and I'm lowkey kind of sick of watching it."

Asher turned away, trying to leave so his heart would stop breaking watching the tears streaming down their face.

"What happened to 'Because you're David's best friend'? I need you for real and you're just abandoning me? Because you can't fuck me?" That hadn't come out right. Both of them knew it.

"That is not-"

Neither of them had seen David until his fist was in Asher's face. Nor had they ever seen this level of anger rolling off him.

"Fuck."

"Shit." Asher Talbot could take a punch, but his best friend was strong and he'd never been on the receiving end of a serious hit. He was sure his face looked like a bloody mess.

"David, it's not- I swear-" Asher's face hurt more every second as he tried to stutter through an explanation.

"Get the fuck out of my face. And don't come back."

"David, please let me-" but he wasn't bothering to listen.

"I trusted you." David didn't need to raise his voice to make them both flinch.

[24kaicy]

Each option will come with a snippet/short story and drawing about the topic.

[winterandwords]

✍🏼 Nine Lines, Nine People

Thanks to @space-writes for the tag!

📝 Share nine lines from your story and tag nine people.

Here's a snippet of Aria getting out of prison in Name From Nowhere. It's a bit more than nine sentences, but some of the sentences are only a word long, so...

Unit seven’s a lab like all the others, a white and glass torture chamber, lit too bright and filled with machines. There’s a headset waiting for me, for another transmission. Transmission. Reintegration. Assimilation. All just fancy words for more fucked up shit that none of us remember right. Us. I’m on my own for this part of the process, but there’s still an us. And maybe there’s always going to be, even if we never see each other again. Even if they’re only ghosts to me. Even if I’m only a ghost to myself.

Tagging @aalinaaaaaa, @aether-wasteland-s, @afoolandathief, @ahordeofwasps, @anthros-vanitas-archive,

(new paragraph to appease the Tumblr link gods) @asher-writes, @aziz-reads, @ceph-the-ghost-writer and @charlesjosephwrites if you'd like to do it, with an open tag for anyone else who wants to join in 🩷

Reblogs, replies etc on my tag posts are always welcome, but if you're doing this tag yourself, please make your own post instead of using mine to start a reblog chain.

[taelonsamada]

Tidbit Tuesday

I’ve been tagged in so many “Snippets” “Micros” “Tidbits” and “Fragments” that it’s shameful I haven’t posted one in ages. And you all have been so patient. It’s only fair that I give SEVERAL pieces at once 😉 LOL So here’s 4 fics I’m working on atm!!

Leave It All On The Ice - Chapter 6

David tore across the ice, his gaze locked on the puck sent flying down the rink from the fight that had broken out behind the Dires’ net. His heart pounded as he raced to catch up to the puck, determined to sink it in the other team’s net and push their meagar lead ahead another point.

It was the Playoffs, after all. Being ahead by one wasn’t enough, especially not when they were in the last period of the game.

His focus on the puck kept him from noticing the player charging at him, catching David entirely offguard as a shoulder collided into his upper chest hard enough to take him off his feet. David’s back hit the ice and he wheezed, his entire world spinning. Rolling over onto his side, he braced a hand under him and struggled to sit up. Every breath was a stabbing pain, which he knew wasn’t good.

Shaking his glove free, he clawed his helmet off, taking in deep, sharp breaths. The noise around him was muffled as he struggled to focus again. From the way his chest and head throbbed, he was likely hurt enough that they’d bench him.

All thoughts of being benched were forgotten as he finally got his eyes to focus, and found himself staring at Tank. They were knelt over another player with one fist tangled in the front of the other player’s jersey, punching them in the face repeatedly with their free fist. They were also using their hold on the other guy’s jersey to yank him back every time they punched him.

~~~

Untitled David/Darlin Fic

He felt his phone go off yet again, even though he was staring at the pack in front of them and could see they hadn’t moved. Hadn’t stopped sending him that lazy, cocky smirk that drove him crazy, in both the worst way and the best way.

Their gaze hadn’t broken from his, their body (and oh, how well he knew that body by now) had remained entirely still, and yet he just knew in his core as he phone vibrated against his leg in his pocket that it was another message from them.

Containing an image he didn’t dare open while in a pack meeting.

~~~

Shaw Pack Tattoo Fic

Milo looked as if he were about to fall asleep, the bastard, despite getting a large rib tattoo. His already fully inked arm was draped over his eyes, so Tank would have thought for a quick moment that he was trying to hide a grimace, but then he stretched with a yawn, earning a gentle smack from the tattoo artist that earned a laugh and a quick apology.

Asher was talking to his artist the entire time as the poor girl did his thigh. Tank wondered if the artist was evening listening to him, or if she was just letting him ramble to keep himself distracted. They also wondered if he’d been serious about getting Jigglypuff holding a trophy to signify his latest victory.

As their own tattoo gun bit into their leg again, they briefly lamented no longer having Asher’s hand to crush in their grasp, closing their eyes with a slow exhale to keep from kicking their own artist. The feeling of a large hand taking theirs had their eyes snapping open in surprise.

David was standing next to their seat, looking the room over and likely checking on the rest of the pack. With his body angled in a way that hid the fact he was holding onto Tank’s hand.

~~~

Between You, Me & The Fence Post - Chapter 14

It was a massive relief to have the barn finished before the ‘big snow’ showed up, as Asher put it. The makeshift shelters were only going to hold up for so long, and while they didn’t get the same crazy amounts of snow other states did, there was still enough that piled up each year to worry about.

What was an even bigger relief for Asher was when he got to hand a check to David. The confused look on the taller man’s face was good, but what was even greater was the moment his eyes widened, the disbelief that bloomed across his face as he realized the check held the remaining balance for the barn.

David’s head snapped up at him, his mouth working soundlessly as he struggled to find words

“We all chipped in,” Asher said with a shrug and his usual cheeky grin. “We factored in the savings you already had saved up, but there should be enough there that you won’t have to drain them entirely.”

“Wait, what? You—Asher! I am not taking my own employees’ money to pay for—”

“For what?” Asher interrupted. “A freak accident that damaged our home? This place belongs to the Shaw family, but we all live here too, David. We love it, and we want it fixed. It’s not like this is gonna end up with any of us starving or homeless, you’ve seen to that.”

The foreman’s grin turned devilish. “Besides, I have it on good information that a very large portion of that came from a certain runaway who really wants to make sure their newest horse they were just gifted got out of the snow as soon as possible.”

~~~

😁 hopefully that makes up for my silence on here! And hopefully I get at least ONE of these finished soon!! In the meantime, tagging @zozo-01 @dominimoonbeam @glassbearclock @ejunkiet @romirola and @lovelylonerliterature cause I wanna see what you’re working on! And as usual, anyone else who wants to join in!

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

Deleted firefighter au snippet

Sooo… this was the first scene I ever wrote for the firefighter au. I had planned for Asher to be injured very badly in an attempt to mimic the Inversion. This was the scene I pictured, Sam as a paramedic doing what he did for Ash in the Inversion in the real world.

I ended up cutting this because I wanted Ash to be in his feet for the whole story and this would have happened early on, within the next few chapters of the story. It was a HUGE escalation that I couldn’t justify.

Here’s what you need to know: in this scene Quinn set a fire in a cafe that the 10-19 crew frequents. The crew responds and the baristas tell them somebody is still inside. Ash goes back in for them. It’s Quinn and he shoots Ash to get a clean get away.

I’m sad that I needed to cut this scene since I love it a lot, but it’s for the better of the story. I thought I’d share it here so everybody could enjoy it!

1.9k Words | Freelancer’s POV

TW: gun shot wound, blood and injury, gore, medical procedures, vomit.

And again, this is not canon to the firefighter au.

“I’ve gotta crack his chest.” Sam whispered. Vincent was spouting vitals so fast you couldn’t keep up. “I’ve gotta…”

David was shouting something incoherent, some desperate plea to save him, save him, do whatever it took. Maybe he was so overcome he couldn’t get his words out clearly. Maybe your mind wasn’t able to keep up.

You really wanted to go home. You were sweating and Sam had gone still and your shoulders were aching from the CPR and you knew it wasn’t doing anything.

The general rule of thumb was this; a puncture wound in the intercostal space was bad. Really bad. Only fifteen to thirty percent of people survived that kind of thing. It was outside of your nature, all of your natures, but you knew what you were trained to do. Pack the wound, make a big show of continuing CPR, clear loved ones away from the victim as quickly as possible, and hope that pressure and compressions were enough for them to last until you got to a trauma center.

More often than not, it was not enough.

Asher was bleeding out. Vincent was glued to the monitor, reading out his steady decreasing vitals like a mantra, like a prayer. Sam was still.

“Do something!” David had grabbed onto Sam’s uniform, spreading blood across the navy blue. “Fucking do something, Sam!”

“Somebody get me a knife!” Sam shouted back. He was moving suddenly, stripping his gloves and reaching for the industrial bottle of rubbing alcohol in his jump bag. “Vincent, you’ve gotta drive. Get on the radio, tell St. Pauls we’re coming in with an emergency thoracotomy.”

“What?” Vincent’s steady stream of vitals came to a halt. “Sam, we don’t- we don’t even have a scalpel, let alone rib spreaders, anti-” Sam ignored him, digging down into his bag until he retrieved a bottle of orange-red liquid and a pair of scissors. You realized after staring for a moment that it was PVP-Iodine, definitely not standard issue. You wondered somewhere far off what else Sam kept in his bag of tricks.

“What’s his blood type?” Sam asked sharply. Vincent had started moving, shuffling away from the monitors and towards the busses’ doors. David was just crying now, clutching Asher’s leg in his hand and making terrible, wounded sounds, like a part of him was being ripped away. “David, what’s his blood type?” Sam was shouting over him, kicking him halfheartedly in the shin.

“A Positive,” Milo appeared on David’s left and extended a small folding knife towards Sam. He looked a bit green at the scene, but swallowed heavily.

“Get him outta here.” Sam nodded towards David. “He doesn’t need to see this.” As he was speaking, Sam was moving faster than you thought possible. He cut away what remained of Asher’s gray-now red- DFD t-shirt, covered the knife in rubbing alcohol, and replaced his gloves. “Vincent, tell St. Pauls to get us as many bags of A positive as they can.”

He nodded towards Milo, who gripped tightly to David’s arm and started pulling him back. You watched the Captain fight for a moment before going still and quiet, letting Milo pull him away.

“Call his family.” Sam said more to Milo than David. “Get anybody who needs to say goodbye to Dahlia Gen within the hour.”

Milo nodded sharply once and slammed the bus doors behind him. You were left in the quiet, the only sounds being Asher’s heart monitor, the engine coming to life, and Sam’s heavy breathing. He took one breath, and another, looked up at you with sweat trickling down his brow.

“You seen one of these?” He asked. You shook your head. He picked up the PVP-I, spread it across the left side of Asher’s torso. “Keep your head. You’ve gotta be my ribspreader.”

“Sam, I-”

“I know you don’t think you can do this.” Sam nodded. He gripped the knife hard in his hands. You could see them shaking like they always did. “But I don’t care. You have to or he’s gonna die.”

You didn’t know if Sam was talking to you or himself.

He was shaking. He took one more breath. His hands went still.

He cut a long, straight line across Asher’s ribs. Ash didn’t stir, didn’t cry out. Sam reached over him and gripped your hands, pulled them over. He hooked your fingers into the cut.

“Work your way in while I cut. You’ve gotta pull his muscles back far enough for me to get my hand in.”

You thought you were gonna puke. Asher’s blood was hot against your hands. Sam went back in, cutting through the plane of muscle over asher’s ribs, and finally slotted his knife between the fourth and fifth intercostal space. You held on with as much strength as you had, and watched with a light head as Sam squeezed his hand between Asher’s ribs.

Sam’s bicep started to flex and relax, and you watched the pattern for a moment before you realized he was beating Asher’s heart manually.

“Okay,” Sam grunted, “okay, I need you to hold on with one hand and keep bagging him with the other.” You nodded and reached for the blue AMBU bag, smearing it with red.

“Three minutes out!” Vincent called from the front. Asher’s blood was dripping down into an impressive puddle on Sam’s shoes. Vincent didn’t let off the horn for a second. You could hear other sirens following you. You would bet that the entirety of the 1019 was hot on your tail.

“I’ve never done one of these before.” Sam whispered, his head turned down. He was smiling. “I’ve only ever seen one- no two? Two. One in med school on a cadaver, one on a GWS victim in my ER.” He was laughing. A hysterical, exhausted type of giggle. You felt your stomach tensing, trying not to join him.

Sam stopped trying to control it and finally let out a cackle that shook your resolve. You started laughing, shaking your head, counting the seconds in your head- one, two, three, one two three,- as you forced Asher’s lungs to work. Sam was breathless and flushed, his head tossed back as his hand kept working, kept squeezing, kept beating the heart in his palm.

“Then why-” you giggled out, “Why did you do it?”

Sam’s laughs began to die. He sniffled and sighed his way out, calming his breath. He looked down at Asher as the humor left him in one sharp breath.

“Because…” He said softly. “He’s David’s best friend. He’d never forgive me if I didn’t do everything I could to save him. And I wouldn’t forgive myself either.”

Vincent pounded the metal side of the ambulance twice with his fist. They were close, pulling in. Sam braced against the stretcher. You kept counting- one, two, three, one two three.

There was noise again as soon as the doors opened. Two doctors swarmed around as you stood, trying to hold on and keep bagging and pull the stretcher out all at once. Vincent pushed into the back, taking the bag from you as the doctors stepped in.

“Sam, you did an emergency thoracotomy in the field?” It was one of the trauma residents you guys delivered to often enough. His eyes were wide and wild as he looked down at Sam’s work.

“GSW to the left ventricle. I can feel the legion, but I’m maintaining a good heartbeat. This is salvageable.” Sam rattled off more things that you barely understood. Fuck, you were out of your depth. Your fingers hurt. You could feel your hands cramping.

“Let’s prep some rib spreaders!” One of the doctors shouted over their shoulder. “Hop on, guys, we’ll need you two in there until we get to the OR.”

Sam stood and swung his leg over Asher, straddling him as he bent to keep up his ministrations. You stepped up onto the foothold of the stretcher as Vincent and the doctors started to lower the gurney and rushed you into the hospital.

“Tell David we’re going straight to surgery,” Sam told Vincent as one of the doctors took over the Ambu bag. “It’ll be a few hours at least before we know which way this is going. Somebody tell William I’m here. I want Alexis Solaire on this, wake her up if you have to!”

You watched, your fingers cramping, as Sam shouted out orders like he ran this place. You knew that he was planning to be a surgeon before switching careers. You could picture him in the same green scrubs as the doctors around you, a stark white lab coat, comfortable sneakers for standing at operating tables, running through emergency halls. You could imagine him bending over patients and tying off stitch after stitch, sewing somebody back together, pulling a life back from the brink.

His uniform was stained. Yours probably was too. There was blood splattered on his face, up his arms. You wondered how long it would take to get out of his hair.

They rolled you past a set of double doors marked; “NO ENTRY BEYOND THIS POINT,” down a long, windowless corridor, and into a sterile room. Somebody reached around your face and tied a surgical mask over your mouth and nose, settled a scrub cap over your disheveled hair. You watched as they did the same to Sam, draping him in a light blue gown. They were trying to be sterile, even though you couldn't estimate how much contamination had hit Asher between the burning building, Sam’s hand inside of his body, and the ash that you could still feel clinging to your skin.

It occurred to you that this was a monumentally stupid thing to do. Somebody came forward with a long metal contraption. Two metal bars were attached to a crank. A rip spreader. You’d never seen one in real life, just in episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and Scrubs and the pages of your medical textbooks. The nurse urged your fingers away as she slotted the spreader around Sam’s wrist and started to crank, relieving the pressure and giving you a full view of Asher’s exposed lung, his heart, beating weakly in Sam’s hand.

You were really going to puke now.

Somebody grabbed you by the shoulders and started steering you out of the OR while they transferred Ash and Sam from the ambulance gurney and onto the operating table. Sam’s hand was still inside Asher as he swung his leg back over and stepped down, bending with effort to maintain his rhythm. The last thing you saw was a team of doctors and nurses descending onto Asher, Sam swallowed among them, before you were escorted out of the room and emptied your stomach into an offered bedpan.

You couldn’t recall if you’d asked for one, or if you just seemed like you needed it, but you were grateful nonetheless.

You walked back out towards the waiting room, still covered in blood. Vincent was waiting with a bag from the hospital gift shop. You changed into the fleece pajama pants and sweatshirt cheerfully inscribed with a cheery “Dahlia General Hospital: Where Healing Happens!”

You called Gavin.

You settled in for the night, your head on Vincent’s shoulder. You knew not you nor none of the dozens of firefighters squeezed into one corner of the waiting room were leaving until Asher was out of surgery.

One way or another.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

OC Kiss Week - Feb 10th - Desperate

I'll be sharing snippets (both canon and post-canon) of Sasha and Faro's love story in A Little Prayer for Dead Gods. So you can expect to see a lot of cute and sexy moments this week.

content warnings: kissing

'Making up for lost time' is one way to call it, another would be 'a dam bursting'. There is so much he wishes to tell Faro, but anything he can't tell him with his tongue preoccupied will have to wait until later.

After the flood has come and gone.

While their mouths are connected, Sasha's hands wander across muscular skin he hasn't felt in so long. He's still so warm and comfortable and smells like rain in the summer, the only home Sasha would ever want to return to.

Does Faro feel the same way about him?

He opens his mouth to welcome Faro inside and finds him digging his fingers into his hair, pulling him closer in their never-ending quest to melt into each other completely.

Faro's grip is tight, as if he's terrified Sasha will slip through his fingers and disappear forever.

'I'm not going anywhere without you. I'm yours. I'm yours. I'm yours.'

Even though he's unable to speak, he believes Faro will hear the answer to his silent pleas from the beat of his heart and his shuddering breaths.

His body lights up at every touch, more sensitive than ever, after their time apart. It's not fair, he wants this to last forever like Faro promised. But he won't be able to last long, enduring the undivided attention of his merciless God.

Faro bites down on his lip, not enough to hurt, but enough to drag a groan out of Sasha's throat.

He's harsh and soft, nipping one moment and going back to kissing the next, almost like he knows exactly how to mend Sasha's broken heart, one little piece at a time.

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @ravenekrops, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords