#brin writes things

[toxinsup]

poses: so on top of @repriez being my affiliate I am alsoooooooo gonna be ship exclusive with Brin's Chamber. So from hence forth any references to chamber, or Sabine in a relationship with him, for any reason if it comes up in a thread, it is Brin's Chamber bc i love her and a stupid french man

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a Chesshire reader x yandere demon slayers were they're out on a mission and come across demon reader and after the demon slayer sees the demons skill they want them but before they can get the reader, they vanished so now the slayers are after the reader on a search for them

(You don't gotta do this,I know it sounds weird but I thought of it and since I suck at writing I thought you could write it Please?)

Cheshire Demon Reader | Yandere Demon Slayer

You are like Tamayo, acting on your own from Muzan Kibitsuji. With a smile as wide as the crescent moon you can easily make yourself disappear long before the drop of a hat. Something you seem to use in order to avoid others from apprehending you both against demons and their slayers. You’re akin to a mischievous yokai that simply appears to mildly inconvenience the townspeople, who are probably well aware of you. But when confronted about you they just shake their heads and wave their hands–”Ah them? They're no problem, just a sneaky yokai that likes to play tricks but when it counts they’ve got our backs.” 

And you do, enough to attract the attention of the demon slayers whose targets are no longer existent. Wondering who or what is killing these demons that have been so hard to track down. Only to find your smiling visage disappearing into the dark of the night:

Kyojorou Rengoku

“WELL….YOU DON’T SEE THAT EVERY DAY!”

He’s been put on a mission to catch a demon on the run

Eating people and destroying the remaining lives in its wake

So he arrives greeted by the people who both curse and rumor about Cheshire (Y/n)

And when night hits he finds a civilian in distress 

Only to be seconds behind at the flick of your disappearing tail 

The demon is subdued and he can only look at the demon pleading to die

“Oh, flame guy! Don’t you have the sword that’ll kill that thing? Go ahead, I wanna see what it looks like to die that way.” “OF COURSE! I PLAN TO! BUT WHY HELP ME?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He’s persistent 

And he decides to keep finding out more about you

“Why don’t you make like a tree and leave flame boy?”

“YOU’D LIKE THAT RIGHT? THEN COME WITH ME, I DON’T THINK I’D BE ABLE TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU AFTER THIS!”

He loves you for your willingness to protect the humans around you

He doesn’t mind your mischievousness 

But he’d appreciate it if you weren’t so slippery to catch

“COME DARLING! There is no reason to run! I have no plans to eliminate you. IN FACT IT’S QUITE THE OPPOSITE!”

Tanjiro Kamado

Same mission 

He’s led by the scent of the demon

Only to catch another

It smells like Ms. Tamayo except its more curious

“Well well, who is this young sprout? I’ve never seen you before, what’s your name?”

You meet him earlier on 

He probably doesn’t realize you're a demon though

Instead blushing at just the way that you are 

Completely unaware of the way you’ve stolen his food

“Huh!? I just had it?”

“Ah, it must have been (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah, they’ve been awfully curious about newcomers as of late.”

 He doesn’t mind it until he’s getting slapped around by the demon

Ready to pull out all the stops until you intervene

Saving his life and further making him fall in love with you

“I-I-I–”

“Awww don’t get your kimono in a twist baby Tanjiro.”

“I–”

“Ciao.”

It takes some time away when he decides to pursue you

You’ve broken away from Muzan so it's a given that he should want to know more about you

Don’t mind the weird bets he tries to instigate with you 

“I-I-I’ll have you marry me! If I win you have to marry me!”

“Whoa whoa, that’s hilarious little boy…Let’s do it.”

Iguro Obanai

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to kill you, now.”

“Oh, will you then–!” 

You’ll have a blast with him

He’s such an antisocial outcast he’s perfect prey for your antics

He’s such a downer the townspeople are slow to inform him about your reputation

“Stop! Stop moving!”

“Ha ha okay.”

“No wait–don’t!” 

“Hehehehe.”

He gives up on killing you 

When you interrupt him again 

It’s to bring an end to the demon

And he quiets the attraction that bubbles in him when you terminate the demon

“Why…why would you save the people? As a demon.”

“ Don’t know. It’s fun here. And I won’t stand for anyone disrupting that.”

He figures he can take you 

After all, they let that stubborn kid keep one

Why can’t he?

“Just come with me and I’ll stop bothering you.”

“Hahaha, that’s hilarious. Why would I stop now!? This game of cat and mouse is one I’m quite good at!”

[sk3tch404]

Late Night Hanma Blurb

A/n: Thought abt this during an itty-bitty road trip today. Smoker Hanma does smth to the chemicals in my brain. Forgive me for any lengthy bad writing. I've had a long day and I just wanna yip yap about one of my fav crazies 🙇

CW: Hanma can give two shits about your lung health but chooses not to when he feels like it, intimidation, threats of forced drug usage, sometimes forced participation in violent activities, thoughts of lovers suicide/murder(?), and whatever other yappin I put in here.

Hanma who smokes a fuck ton and doesn't mind giving you the good ol' second-hand effects of it, but absolutely detests you doing it on your own.

He snatches the stick from your mouth and holds it up and away from you with a small grit in his teeth. Hanma glares down in some curiosity but clearly squints in irritation.

"The hell is this? Don't tell me I'm being a bad influence on you now. If I catch you with one of these again, I won't let you off the hook so easily. You got it, Y/n?"

When you retort, telling him it's no different from when he does it and it is your own choice whether he likes it or not, he merely scoffs with a tilt of his narrow head. Throwing down the cigarette, the sound of his sneaker stomping and scraping it out against the pavement echos through the air with an annoying presence. Shuji demands the rest of your stash with a looming stare that can only put you into a state of sinking discimfort.

"Come on, don't be stubborn. Ya know, if you wanna do it so bad, why don't you try the whole pack? Mine too since it's a shitload better than that cheap stuff."

Reluctant on suffocation and early lung cancer, you begrudgingly hand over your smokes to him. Hanma smacks down on the box with an evidently loud shot of noise and slides it out of your palm--- pocketing it. He stretches out narrow smile as he leans down towards you.

"See, now it ain't so hard to listen."

He's still ticked off by the fact you think you can do whatever to your body without his permission, but since Shuji is so generous, he'll let you learn from your mistakes. See, he can be nice.

Don't test him though. Next time you're caught defying his selfish wishes, he's beating you down with degrading language and probably also beating whoever was involved. The convenience store employee that sold you the cigs, vape, or maybe even chewing tobacco? Yeah he's taking out his held back frustration on them. Bro is jumping over the counter and tearing their shit up.

Avoiding him because of his brutal and honest-to-God psychopathic personality? Now that's just cruel. Shuji is dragging your ass by the back of your shirt and pushes you to his motorcycle. The leopard print on the back of the bike makes you wanna barf every time you see it, but you got to keep it down if you wanna have enough energy to deal with him. He'll take you out no matter where you are at in that point of time and make you remember who he is; who you think you're messing with.

"Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you? Aim for the nose. That's easy for amateurs like you. Actually, lemme show you how to really deliver a jaw breaker-"

Yeah, he'll show you just how bad it can get with some random thugs on the street. You should be grateful with how gentle he's treating you. Instead of ending up with facial fractures, you have nice dates and thoughtful gifts. He's even teaching you a few tricks. How lucky can you get?

"I'm all done. Shit, I'm starved. Let's go grab a bite to eat, kay?"

Hanma thinks the only way you'll ever keep paying attention to him is if he keeps you and your actions in line. If you go off doing your own thing, his usually unmoving heart can't just stand there and watch you slowly leave him. Despite the negativity be brings into your life, he actually gets really fuckin anxious when he doesn't know or understand what you're doing. It's so troublesome how you make him feel. Yeah, being bored as shit is bad, but seeing you, the only thing that could ever bring him down to his knees unwillingly, slip away with nothing but disdain for him? Fuck no. He won't accept it. Shuji would rather kill you and then himself than have to bear the strange feeling of pain, or what other people call heartbreak, by his lonesome self.

Should he ever say he loves you, that would be the point of no return for the both of you. His hands have you tight in his clutches. No way out, no way back in for anyone else.

[eloquentlytired]

the good cop chapter 2 ˙ dark!walter marshall

pairing: dark!walter marshall x fem reader

word count: 2k

summary: always two steps ahead, the best in the department and your wise mentor; nothing could ever incriminate walter marshall because he is the good cop. but that ceases to exist when you discover who is behind your shadowy nightmares.

warnings for this chapter: sexual tension - male masturbation - appearance of another henry cavill character (surprise!)

chapter one chapter two ... >>>>

___

The break-ins never stopped but the stealing did. In fact you suddenly had more things stuffing your apartment than missing. Well, not things. Flowers.

"What type of flowers?" Walter asked while writing something in his computer. You wanted to ask why was that important but it was like he had read your mind. "Flowers could mean something. You know how colours have meanings? Red for love,yellow for I don't know piss infection-"

You stiffled in a laughter. "I believe it means happiness."

"Whatever. Flowers?" He asked again, raising his eyebrow at you.

"Narcissus flowers.." You replied and he hummed, typing in his computer again.

A minute passed. Then another. Walter cleared his throat and began reading outloud.

"To the Greeks, the narcissus flower is a symbol of early death. It is the flower gathered by Persephone on her way to Hades, and it is thought to have a narcotic fragrance." Walter and you communicated silenty, your eyes telling more than your words. "I will die?" The question evaporated and silence filled the tiny office. Walter stared at you and then at the screen of his computer.

"Not exactly." He murmured.

"What the hell does that mean?" Walter side eyed you as you yelled and you immediately grew silent. He was still your superior and you ought to respect him.

"I don't think the myth is that important. It is the message we should focus on."

You nodded trying to compose yourself as you patted your cheeks with your hands. You felt and looked like a wreck. "The message..the message of the flowers.." Your rumbled on while shaking your head.

Suddenly Walter was not in his desk anymore. He was towering over your seat, slipping his fingers through your tangled hair. Yeah - you were a mess. "I am certain this isn't a murder message." You raised your head and looked at him as he caressed your hair, causing your entire body to relax somehow. Walter had that effect of making you feel so safe. Oh silly you.

"If they don't want to murder me then what..?"

"Desire." He replied simply and your eyes widened.

"The items missing from your house are very specific. And for whatever reason, you get these flowers everyday by the window along with a- what did you say it was?"

"A crumbled cookie." You replied feeling your throat going dry because of the way he was looking at you. Walter was the only one who had managed to ease your mind during this concerning case - and he was also the only one working on it too.

"Right. The cookie." Walter's fingers slid to the back of your neck and began massaging your nape. Your eyes fell shut for a moment and your mouth gaped. You could hear some shuffling around you but you didn't open your eyes until a warm breath was hitting your cheek and Walter was kneeling before you to look at you better.

Your faces weren't distant anymore and when you seemed not to mind, he leaned forward to press a reassuring kiss on your forehead. The action made your grip tighten around the arms of the chair you'd been sitting on for the past hour. "Sir-", "Walter." He cut you off and your eyes sparkled, and damn him for being so weak for you. "I think it's time to make a little bit of an upgrade." There was an unusual little smile on his lips and you took everything in from it ; the sweet words, the smile, the gentle gaze and how kind Walter had been to you.

He had spent day and night working on your case amongst others. It was visible in his eyebags and the secret times you had caught him dozing off in his office when you were bringing him coffee. Walter was working so hard for you.

"You're smiling." Walter pointed out amused.

"I'm not." You mumbled and tried to tilt your head away, to maintain some dignity in you, but Walter did not allow it. He kept a tight grip on your nape and forced you closer to watch the softness of your face.

"Been a while since I saw you smile." It was quite true; the case had taken its toll on both of you that you had forgotten how to do simple things. Even smile.

Your smile only grew and if it was possible for one to die from embarassment right now that'd be you.

The nudge of his nose against your jawline came as a surprise. You held your breath as Walter dragged his nose across your entire jaw before his cheek collided with yours. Your faces brushed and caressed each other intimately - your mind could not register what was happening. What he was doing to you.

Every countour and inch of your faces were touching but never your lips.

It was impossible for you to keep up with your shyness. You needed whatever this was - comfort or pity. You nuzzled your cheek against his and you heard him take in a sharp breath as you slipped your fingers from the chair to his biceps. His beard was soft against your skin and slightly overgrown; he probably had no time to care for himself. Because of me, you thought, because of my case.

"You're thinking." Walter whispered into your ear before nuzzling his cheek back against your own. There was so much intensity, so much intimacy, so much suffocation. Your fingers dug into his biceps and he hissed. You trembled. "I'm bothering you with this- you should assign the case to someone else."

His hand was wrapped around your jaw in seconds, pulling your face close to his. There was anger in his eyes but also something else. Something burning and aching. "I dare you to ask me that again." He growled and you shivered. He was so devoted, so trustworthy, so caring. Walter cared for your well-being. "I'm sorry,Walter. I just-" His fingers twitched against your jaw as you spoke his name for the first time; not sir or anything like that.

Damn him again. Damn him for what you did to him.

Something heavy landed in your lap, a tiny thing encased by a golden wrapper with your initials on it. Your missing lipstick. "W-what?"

"Someone brought it in yesterday. You shouldn't trust your pockets so much when you sit down for a smoke." Your cheeks felt hot; so this one was missing in the first place because of your carelessness... you murmured a silent thank you while clutching the golden case to your chest.

"Wear it." Walter suddenly said and used those large palms to pull your hair back, encasing them in a ponytail with his fist. You swallowed thickly and your stomach fluttered. "Right now?" You asked him in a shaky tone and he nodded.

His blue eyes watched as you put on your lipstick, the bright red causing your mouth to look even more kissable. His chest heaved up and down, a weird craze enveloping him as he observed you. You were so pretty and Walter wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

Once you were done, you put the lipstick back into its golden case and looked at him. Walter was breathless and you were simply shaking.

"Missed seeing it on you." He said and his voice was almost purring the words out; it made your heart stir with unspoken emotions. You smiled at him, a small but genuine gesture, and to his surprise you handed him your lipstick. "It is safer with you than me." You explained as one of Walter's hands wrapped around the golden case, his other hand still gripping your hair gently. "I might lose it to...the stalker. You can keep it safe for me,Walter."

Not much happened after. Walter dismissed you when your presence was needed for patrol and you murmured a soft goodbye to him as he stared at your red lips.

The office grew quiet. Walter slumped on his armchair and stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything.

The brush of your cheek against his, your scent, your lipstick. He was trying to make up for his shit but you had given it back to him. Because Walter was the good cop that cared for you.

He said nothing as he opened the golden case and placed the lipstick on his desk. The tip of the lipstick was a bit smudged, clearly used. You had used it minutes ago and now it was in Walter's grasp again because it was "safe" with him.

Walter unzipped his jeans and threw his head back silently as his hand wrapped around his erection. He closed his eyes and remembered you; the way you were gripping on his biceps, the way you spoke his name, the way you put on that devilish colour on your lips and looked at him right after. He hissed while tugging on his hardened member, thrusting his hips into his fist.

And then his imagination took a step further wondering how it'd be to have those red lips stretching around his cock, staining it with kiss marks. Would he hold your hair back in a ponytail like today? Would he just grip it and force his cock down your throat? Would you let him?

Walter came in his fist with a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling back as the last specs of his fantasy danced in his blurry vision. Walter, you had spoken it so sweetly, so shyly. He should have fucked you right there.

He cleaned up after himself and let the window behind his desk slightly ajar. His fucked mind needed the fresh air.

A sharp knock interrupted his typing. He stared at the clock on the wall. It was past midnight and he was the only one in the station aside from a single guard outside. "Come in." Walter said, his hand inching closer to the gun hidden beneath his desk.

The sight that greeted him was diabolical. Straight up shit.

Nothing could severely worry Walter Marshall.

Except one fucking thing.

"Marshall. I'm here to take your case." There was a battle between matching pairs of blue eyes and a tension that dipped in Walter's shoulders as if trying to make him kneel on the ground.

That's how he felt around that figure. The shaved head, the typical black sunglasses and the police badge hanging in a most unfashionable manner around his neck.

It made him feral. It made him fidgety.

Walter growled.

"Syverson."

___

author's note: hi yall! i hope u enjoyed the second chapter :D I was rlly excited for this one bc i wanted something chill with the most edgy ending so i think i achieved it. would love to hear ur thoughts. as always likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 !!!

[itsphoenix0724]

I don’t know if your still doing the bouquet event. But an orchid with Rhysand sounds wonderful!

Orchid (Rhysand x Reader)

Warnings: angst (don't hate me)

Word Count: 970

❀° Event Masterlist ❀°

A/N: Thank you for visiting my page, I'm so sorry this took me so long to write. Reader takes the place of Feyre in this fic so Nesta and Elain are her sisters. I have a very complicated relationship with Rhys idk why he's just super hard to write for me. Please don't kill me but this is angsty I'm so sorry. But I hope that you enjoy it <3

You haven’t been able to leave the nursery since you brought your baby home. He was perfect, the crown of inky black hair matching his father, with your eyes staring back up at you. You’re humming softly rocking the cradle back and forth as he sleeps, the knitted bat stuffed animal curled under his small arm. Your body tenses as your husband slips through the doorway, he utters your name and you glare at him without stopping your lullaby. 

“I will not discuss this in front of our son.” Your tone betrays nothing of your feelings, refusing to let anything show in his presence. Rhys’s face pales a shade but he nods and gestures with his head to the door. After giving a subtle nod you leave the sleeping prince in his cradle, safely guarded by moonlit dreams, and follow Rhys out of the room. You want for nothing more than a glass of liquor, preferably the strongest Velaris has to offer, as you stand across the study from your husband.  Alas, you are nursing so your desire remains a boiling headache sprouting in your temples. 

“Darling-” Rhysand starts, but you raise one hand and he stops speaking, snapping his jaw shut. You take a moment to look at Rhysand fully. His raven hair, so normally well-kempt, is run through and the purple half-moons under his eyes cast grotesque shadows on unnaturally pale skin. You’ve barely spoken to him in days since Nyx was born. 

In fact, you’ve refused to see any of the inner circle at all seldom your sisters.

“I am going to talk now. You are going to do nothing but listen.” You will steel into your spine, wishing your power to grant you the strength for this. Rhys nods once sitting in his chair and wringing his hands together in his lap. “You made me your equal, and yet you betray me. You force the hands of our truest friends to betray me.” You have felt a tidal wave of emotions since you found out what your mate kept from you. 

Anger, betrayal, disgust, but all you feel now is sadness. 

Sadness at the reaper that seems to have been following you through your first week as a mother, angry at your sister for snatching your family back from the cold iron of his grip. 

“You have proven that the members of this court will obey your wishes without any regard for me as your equal. Not only that, the worst thing about this is you were going to let us die in ignorance, after promising that I would always have a choice with you. That is what truly breaks me, Mate.” You watch your husband fall apart before you. The High Lord of Night crumbling and dissolving like salt in water. You want to go to him, you want to ease his sobs and tell him that everything is alright. 

But everything is very much not all right. 

“Why?” is the only thing you can manage to croak out, your tears finally cracking the damn that you’ve built to keep them at bay. Rhys stands, crossing the room and three wide steps, and wraps you in his arms. You try to fight it but you let yourself collapse into the warm embrace he offers. You wail, cursing the world and your mate, beating your hands against his chest half-heartedly. He cups your cheek a thumb running to wipe the silver from your eyes, but your hands remain limp at your sides.

“I have no excuse,” he swears sinking to his knees you follow him melting without the force of his weight to keep you upright. “I tried to do my best by Madja’s instructions. I did not want to rip the joy from you, but I had no right. I’m so sorry my love, so so sorry. I wanted to bring you the news with a solution.”  You still choke around your sobs, the solid iron you’ve built around the bond cracking just a fraction, letting some of its golden light shine back through. 

“You also had no right to send Nesta on that hike. Her intentions may have been egregious, but she is the only one who was honest with me.” Rhys’s lips press into a thin line, the topic of your sister always a touchy one, but he nods. 

“I’ll do my best to be better for you.” Rhys gulps around the tightening in his throat. You don’t know how long you spend crying on the floor of his study, Rhys soothing your hair before something finally lightens in your heart and you let go. 

Forgiveness. 

You realize after one heartbeat, then two, that this feeling is forgiveness. You almost collapse under the weight of it. You meet Rhysand’s eyes and let the walls of the bond fall and you feel the palpable relief, see it in his eyes. 

“You have to be better.” You mutter, and Rhys nods resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll do better for you. For Nyx. For our family.” He swears and you feel the burn of another promise singeing into your skin, the stretching wings of a dove appearing on your sternum, you can see the twin appearing on Rhys’s own skin. Finally, you press your lips to his and he melts hauling you onto his lap. His kiss is bruising, the bond between you both singing happily in your chests. This healing road will be long, and the trust you’ve built with your family now broken and fragile. But the road is visible, the fog of pain gone from the path you must take. You will forgive, no matter how hard it will be. Rhys’s hands are shaking as he presses a kiss to your forehead. After all of the pain.

Forgiveness is a welcome feeling.

[writingdotcoffee]

If you have other things in your life—family, friends, good productive day work—these can interact with your writing and the sum will be all the richer.

David Brin

[anitalianfrie]

Oh! Absolutely 20 for rosquez!

things you said i wasn't meant to hear - rosquez

this was difficult to write. like. really difficult. i fear it might suck. alas, it's all i produced.

Marc slowly walks through the corridor. The walls are rough, painted of a faded yellow, and the rigs and bumps push against the skin of his knuckles while he drags his hand against one of them.  

For some reason, they remind him of home. 

He’s not used to being here. He feels like an outsider- no, like a stranger, in between the sturdy walls of the ranch, old and stained. He can feel it, in his bones and in the air: it’s not his place to be in. It’s Valentino’s. But Vale told him, mouth sweet of promises and sticky with kisses, with his strong accent and his esses that he hisses like a snake, mi casa es su casa, and Marc, mouth stretched large in a laugh, believed him. 

He can sense it in the air, in its staleness, the bitter taste of distrust. Of quiet wariness. They leave a bad taste in his mouth. He can feel it in the polite words of Bagnaia and Bezzecchi, he can hear it when Vale doesn’t let him go get the bread from the baker and sends one of the boys instead. 

He can’t do much about it, and maybe that’s what’s worse. How he didn’t care about these people’s opinions up until he arrived there, and understood how much they meant to Vale. How much he wanted them to accept him.  

He finds himself missing Alex, when he thinks too much about it. 

His hand meets the end of the wall. His small moment for himself is over. The door in front of him is slightly opened, just enough for him to be able to see in the room. He can see the back of someone’s head, a mop of curly hair, too light to be anyone else’s. Vale is there.  

He reached down, to the handle, to push the door open, when a voice from inside the room stops him. 

“You should talk to him.” it’s Luca. He sounds– he sounds serious. It’s a tone Marc has rarely heard him use, in the week he’s been here. 

“I know.” 

Marc knows he shouldn’t stay there, the knowledge of being impolite drilled into his head by his mother from a young age, when she had found him hiding behind the kitchen door, eavesdropping. Still, something inside tells him: this is about you. You should listen.  

He’s too weak not to. 

He’s too weak not to worry. Who else should Vale talk to? The thing that stetches between them, thin like the thread of a cobweb, dangling in the air, is fragile and new. Marc knows it, and Vale knows it too. It’s there, and day by day they are putting down bricks, layers to build up on. But as of now, a too strong breeze might end up ripping it apart. Marc doesn’t have the certainty it will happen, but he also doesn’t want to try. 

“It’s just–” Valentino continues, “I can’t help but feel that this happening is my fault. That him feeling like this, is my fault.” 

Marc can hear Luca sighing from the other side of the door. 

“Listen. I’m not going to say that it’s completely not your fault, because we both know that it’s not the case. But keeping thinking about it– it will do you no good. Talk to Marc. Ask him how he feels, instead of doing your thing where you assume what everybody’s feeling without talking.” 

A moment of silence. 

Marc pushes with his knuckles against the wood of the door. It creaks on its old, consumed hinges while it opens slightly. There are three doors that do it at the ranch, and Marc has memorised them all.  

“Hey” he says, while entering the room, as if he wasn’t hiding up until one second before (as if he wasn’t a liar), and Vale turns his head and greats him with a smile. He reaches out with a hand and grabs him by the waist, pulling him closer, laying his head against Marc’s ribs.  

Luca gets up from his chair. “I’ll leave you two to it.” he says, before closing the door behind him.  

Valentino drags Marc down on the couch, until they’re laying on top of each other, chests pressed together. Marc can feel Vale’s hand on the back of his head, playing with his hair, while he brings their faces closer to kiss, and kiss, and kiss. 

Under his hand, Marc can feel Vale’s heart beating. 

Tu-tum tu-tum tu-tum, strong and fast like the sound of the hooves of a horse on the ground. 

Valentino doesn’t say anything. 

Neither does Marc. 

send me a pairing and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic

[displacerbeasts]

HI my name's brin and i've spent the last 4 years writing a dragon quest 11 post-post game fic focusing on how things could play out as the party grapple with this new peaceful erdrea. but it's mostly focused on serena and jade as i feel they are very under-utilised in the canon (and i feel like act 3 could really be the start of their character arcs rather than the end!) So here's some miscellaneous art i've done over the last year or so. one day the fic will be done and these can be enjoyed with full context but i thought i may as well post them for now as i make a lot of art for this and it doesn't really fit anywhere :-)

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Angsty ish request but do you have any headcanons on how the jjk boys would react to their partner being kidnapped?

Not sure if I would consider this angst, BUT I would 100% consider it fun to think about and write!

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna.

SATORU GOJO

How does Gojo react to you getting Kidnapped?

Not well. 

He blames himself for it.

If only he had kept a better eye on you, or if only he didn't have as many enemies, ect ect.

He puts that all aside pretty quick though. He still internalized it and feels it weighing on him, but first things first 

He needs to find you.

Gojo may be a laid back guy, but the moment you're in danger all bets are off and he's dedicating everything to finding you.

He's not above getting help either, using his many connections in high places to find you faster. 

He's a little bit reckless though, rushing things to get you home, even if he (unwittingly) puts your safety at risk

And God help the poor bastard that took you when he finds you (and he will find you.)

He's going to put that bitch in a domain expansion so fast his head is going to literally spin.

And probably melt from the information pouring into it ngl

Typically Gojo goes for the quick and painless route, but this guy doesn't deserve it.

After, he's taking you home and putting every precaution in place to make sure it does not happen again.

He's showering you in affection and apologies for ever letting such a thing happen. 

After that, he starts to train you in at least hand to hand combat basics so you're never vulnerable like that again

Suguru Geto

Pissed but quietly pissed. 

He's immediately calculating how to get you back.

He still puts on his facade of being ok though. Like nothings wrong.

To outsiders, he couldn't be less affected about what was happening and was only passively trying to find you

What they don't see is the amount of all nighters he's pulled, practically pulling his hair out to try and pinpoint your location.

He goes back and forth between blaming you and blaming himself. Blaming you because it's easy, blaming himself because, as far as he's concerned, he's it's true. 

He starts to doubt himself. Did you want to leave? Did he scare you away? 

He still has to have you back, so he can ask these questions himself. 

He's reckless to a fault, making decisions that he knows may get you hurt, but telling himself it's for the greater good to bring you home.

He's losing sleep, losing composure, losing patience, losing himself.

When he does find you the relief is instant 

And when he finds the bastard that took you away from him all that he has left is rage. 

The rage he's been holding away breaks out of him in a fiery storm

That was honestly the most pure aggression you have ever seen from that man.

Once you’re home it's business as usual. Of course the welcome home was warm and he made sure you knew that he was elated to have you in his arms again.

But other than that, no real changes

Well, except for the fact that late at night, when he's holding you close and can't sleep, he holds you just a little tighter than before

Kento Nanami

Nanami is above all else calm.

Panicking isn't going to fix the situation, and losing his head is just going to make it take longer to get you home. 

He doesn't blame himself or you or anyone other than the perpetrators because again, that would solve nothing. 

Nanami is here to get results not lose himself in emotion

Honestly he cuts off all of his emotion to get you home. He goes into robot mode to try and get the most efficient results 

He's also willing to ask for help and throw his weight around to try and bring you home. 

His morals are normally strong, but in this situation they start to get fuzzy. Fuzzy enough that he's willing to kill in cold blood. 

Now, here's the thing though: his number one priority is your safety. 

There is no use bringing you home if you're dead. So he's careful not to be reckless 

If it comes down to bringing you home a few days later or you being hurt in anyway, he's going to choose to bring you home later

Because in his mind, you're coming home either way. The only variable is if you come home in one piece or not. 

Once he finds who did this though, all bets are off. 

Once you're secure and safe (and preferably in a place where you can't see him) he's letting all that pent up emotion out

Rip to whoever took you cause that's Nanami's new target practice dummy. He won't kill them though. That would be too easy. He's going to make them wish he killed them

Once you're home though, a different emotion comes out of him.

He's just relieved to have you home. 

He's cuddly, he doesn't want to let you go ever again.

In fact, he took the next week off work just to be with you again.

Which means he's not leaving your side for even a second that entire week

Ryomen Sukuna

Pure. Seething. Rage.

How could you BE so foolish as to let yourself get kidnapped?!

Who the FUCK was dumb enough to touch his belongings?!

The room he's in when he finds out is trashed in his fit of rage.

His vision is red as he destroys everything looking for you.

He has no real strategy, his mind is in no condition for that. He's taking the leave no stone unturned approach. 

And by that I mean a leave no village un-burned approach. 

Sukuna may say he has no real interest in you, that you're just a replaceable toy he doesn't give a fuck about.

But his reaction to losing you betrays all of that. He won't rest until he's slaughtered whoever dared to put their filthy little hands on you. 

The thought of you being around someone else, touching someone else, smelling like someone else sends him into a black out rage.

He needs you back now to undo whatever the fuck that bastard did to you. 

Needless to say, he's too reckless to think about your safety. 

Honestly pray for the person that dared to touch you.

Because when Sukuna finds them, the clean up crew is going to need a sponge to get them to their funeral. 

I'm talking you hear screaming for you don't know how long before Sukuna came and got you, coated in a red mist.

And he's still pissed though no longer violently so. 

You stupid fucking wench, how the fuck could you have let this happen?!

When you get back, you realize you've basically been kidnapped again cause Sukunas leash on you just got almost unbearable. 

You're not leaving his sight, or him, ever again.

[sweet-villain]

Hello sweetheart, could you write something angsty for me but with a happy ending. I need to have my heart broken but put back together.

Torn ~ J.Q

Summary: Your best friend rejects you, it hurts but things turn around when he hears your going on a date with another man.

Tags : : @ceriseheaven @josephquinnlover0 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @stillfalling30minslater @alyisdead @witchy-munson

My Master List is in This Area

Angst to fluff

How could you not be in love with your best friend? He made you laugh. He made you smile. He made your heart flutter when he looked at you with those brown chocolate eyes of his. He'd always stand next to you or sit by you when he had the chance. Everyone told you that he's into you.

Yet, you've been to his apartment and spilled to him how you felt about him. But, here you were driving back home with tears in your eyes as you gripped the steering wheel. Your vision blurred with tears. You felt like he ripped your heart into pieces and threw it across the ocean.

" I'm in love with you" you shyly tell him. Joe's breath hitches and he averts his gaze looking anywhere else but at you.

" Oh...I don't know what to say.." he says, " Y/N..I love you too, but not in the way you do" Joe met your teary eyes as he played with one of his rings. " I'm so sorry" you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

" But explain to me why you'd always choose to sit next to me, flirt with me and you always have your hand on my thigh?" You asked.Your voice cracked as tears spilled down your cheeks.

" I do it with everyone, flirt I mean... I'm sorry" you looked away rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.

" I-I get it. It's fine...Uh.. I should g-go" you got up and putting on your coat as Joe watched with an apologetic look on his face.

The silence driving home was thick, unwanted and cruel. The only sounds heard was sobs coming out of your mouth. You heart ripped in two.

Was it you? Is something wrong with you? Were you not pretty enough? Were you not enough? Why didn't Joe feel the same? The signs seem to be there.

You parked your car in front of your apartment heading inside. You brushed past people shooting you worried looks along the way seeing the tears flowing down your cheeks.

The apartment felt cold and distant as you entered it, shrugging off your coat and shoes and not bothering to hang them as you rushed into your bedroom, falling into bed. Rejection hurt you this time around. Why? Because it was Joe, Joe has been your best friend for years. His parents loved you. Wesley loved you and his friends did too.

This one hurt because this one, you lost your best friend to tell him him how you felt. You would never be able to see Joe's face again, it hurts too much.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You entered the bar with a small smile on your face as the guy you were seeing trails behind you with his hand on the small of your back. It's been close to a year since the last time you spoke to Joe, saw him or even Wesley told you about how he's been doing.

Tonight you happened to be in a small bar seeing some friends when your eyes spotted him as he had a martini in his hands while talking with someone.

You avert your eyes as you focused on one of your friends as they threw their hands up and embracing you in their warmth.

" It's so good to see you" they said, moving back to look at you. " My, my. You are glowing. I haven't seen you this pretty" they said. You rolled your eyes as you nudged them with your hip causing them to laugh. The laugh had caught the attention of Joe who's eyes spot you right away.

His mouth a jar as his eyes widen taking you in. He's watching the way you embrace each of your friend, the smile on your face and the way you joke with them. A pang of hurt fills him as he remembers the last time he spoke to you. He let you walk out that door and out of his life.

He clenched the glass of his martini as his eyes find the man you came along with. Who was he? He growled underneath his breath spotting the man bring you close to him and kiss your cheek. Wesley who's sitting by Joe's side notices the way Joe demeanor changes in a blink of an eye. He follows Joe's line of visions and his face turns into a frown.

" Are you going to say something to her?" Joe hadn't noticed that Wesley had even spoken to him until he felt a nudge at his side. " What?" he asked. Wesley motions with his head towards you.

" Are you going to say something to her?" he asks again. This time Joe hesitates as he shakes his head. " No, I don't think that's a good idea."

Wesley hums as he stands up with his glass. He wasn't about to sit there and not miss a chance to say hello to you. He used to be your friend too.

" Where are you going?' Joe asks.

" Say hi to a friend" he says as he makes his way towards your table. To Joe's surprise, you turn your head to meet Wesley's gaze and a smile appear on your face when you see it's him.

Joe feels the green eyed monster begging to come out when he watches your interaction with Wesley wishing it was him. Your eyes move over to the table Joe was sitting at and immediately his eyes drop to his glass hoping you didn't catch him staring at you.

When you look away from Joe and listen to what Wesley was saying, he looked back up and watched you. He knew it was rude to stare but something about you tonight is different.

" You look happy" Wesley says to you. You shrugged with a small nod, nursing your drink in your hand.

" It's been better" you nodded again. Wesley sighs, " I didn't mean for us to lose touch like that. It's just I thought it would be hard having me around knowing Joe was around me"

" I understand" Wesley looks back at Joe.

" We still talk about you" he says, surprising you. You thought after you told Joe how you felt that he would forget about you and erase you from his memory.

" That's nice" he chuckled, he knows you really well.

" Look, I know you Y/N. I can see the look in your eyes that your begging to talk to him. He misses you and he knows letting you walk out his door was the biggest mistake of his life."

" I think mine was having him enter my life" Wesley frowned as he sighs again telling you he's going back. You nod wishing him to have a good rest of his night.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You stood by the trailing as you look up at the night sky. You needed some fresh air after a few drinks, the conversation with Wesley and having Joe be in the same bar as you.

" You look good" you heard that familiar voice that caused your eyes to close and gripped the railing tighter.

" Thank you" you responded not turning around. If you did, you might well up in tears.

Joe took out a cigarette from behind his ear like he usually does have one from time to time. He cups his other hand over it as he lights it.

" Do you want one?" he asks, fishing out another one from his pack and offering it to you. Without looking at him, you shake your head. He retrieves it back into the pack as he puts it back into his pocket along with his lighter.

There is silence between the two of you.

" Who's the guy?" there was that million dollar question that's been bugging at his heart not knowing who he was. You lowly chuckled as you turned your head for the first time to look at him. Joe swore he felt his heart flutter and his mind run back as he looked at you.

You were beyond beautiful.

" Just someone" you tell him, " not really your business Quinn."

" Sorry" he mumbles. Your eyebrow raised as you questioned him, " for what?" you asked.

His brown chocolate eyes turned to look at your once more. They are filled with sorrow. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him, breathe in your scent to see if it's the same, to have you smile at him and to have your arms around him.

He sighs as he rubs a hand down his face," For letting you walk out that door that day."

You chuckled, " You didn't feel the same way and I wouldn't blame you. I mean, who would want me? Not even my best friend wanted me."

Joe faced you as he stomped his cigarette on the ground. His shirt rubbed against your arm and the hint of cigarettes and mint hit your nose. Your heart clenched having him this close.

" I was stupid back then to let you slip through my fingers. I was scared.."

" Scared of what Joe?" you turned to face him, inches away.

" Scared of giving you my heart knowing you had it all along all those years since we were teenagers. Scared to commit to you, scared to share you with the world as mine."

" I was scared too but that didn't stop me from telling you how I felt" He nodded.

" You were always the brave one" a small smile appears on your face as you shrug. His index finger goes under your chin raising your head to look up at him. His breath fans over your face, " Are you dating that guy?" he motions his head towards the entrance of the bar.

" No, just been-" Joe cuts you off as his lips brushed against yours. Your breath hitches making you gasp feeling his lips softly press against yours. Your heart race having him this close.

" Joe" you muttered through the kiss as he placed his lips softly back on yours. When you returned his kiss, his hands fell to you hips bringing you flush against his chest. His head tilted to the side as his tongue licked your bottom lip asking for permission.

You let him in going to battle with his tongue, he wins as he explores every inch of your mouth. Your hand is balled up in a fist of his shirt, the other going into his curls earning a groan from him as he kisses you.

You pull away from his lips, lips hovering over his own.

"Joe" your eyes lock with his as his eyes look at yours with hope.

" Let's start over" he whispers against your lips. " Please" he adds.

You search his face to see if he's serious about this. You weren't about to have him break your heart again and when you spot no lies in his eyes or face.

" You got once chance, Quinn" his lips curve up in a smile as he leans in pecking your lips.

"I am not letting you slip away from me ever again" he nuzzles his nose against yours.

" Is that a promise?" he raises his pinky up your line of vision.

" Pinky promise" you laugh, hooking your pinky around his as he laughs against your lips too, pecking them.

[flaneurarbiter]

so I cracked open my document for worldbuilding/writing for the first time in forever today

and I realized that I can worldbuild to infinity, but I can't actually write the story to save my life. So, in an attempt to get me motivated to write the thing, here's some information on the dominant religion in my world.

Worships a pantheon of gods and spirits. The main difference between the two is that gods can be replaced, but spirits cannot.

Spirits are the embodiments of abstract concepts, while gods are more like people with supreme power over a concrete object.

Sometimes humans mash together similar gods and spirits, as seen with how Krunin and Brin got mistaken for the same person, but some are distinct enough, like the fearfully unnamed spirit of death and Rylai

 Society sees the daytime sky as more in tune with the earth, even having a myth about how the daytime sky protects the earth from the vast expanse of the universe. Hence why Fyrian’s title is “God of the earthly sky” The night sky is seen as more tied to the universe at large, since you can see all of the stars at night.

The story goes that both Greavi, Astrapulli, and Fyrian worked together to create humanity, with Astrapulli going on to take the roll of being the one to guide humanity on the road to advancements, Fyrian being Humanity’s protector and Greavi being the great provider.

Astrapulli and Fyrian are often worshiped together in a duality or balance capacity, especially in the leviathan kingdom. It’s actually half the reason the Leviathan Kingdom’s capital of Crenan was established.

The gods are worshiped in daily life at their specific shrines. People will go there and pray and leave offerings towards a god.

Not everyone regularly worships every god, but each god and goddess has their own holidays that are upheld

It might seem weird that there hasn’t been much mythical drift across time and various disruptive historical events, however the explanation of this is two-fold. First, the gods are actually real, and have made several appearances throughout history and prehistory and in every country, thus leaving humanity to make a more concrete mythical lore. Secondly, Yvine Ojan spent a lot of time codifying the myths from all across the continent, creating a relatively solid canon for the gods, and it’s only been slightly over a hundred years since she did that, thus not giving the myths much time to drift

Gods, and some spirits

Empyria-Goddess of music

Patron goddess of the L’norinette family

Constantly at war with Greavi for reasons forgotten by mortals

An'Tuska- Spirit of precipitation

Has a rivalry with Fyrian

Iapert-goddess of the sea

Merudi- God of wealth

There Is a week-long festival in the Ojalana empire that ends in a massive public ball hosted by the palace. This event, Called Deviti week attracts many tourists

Patron of the Ojalana Empire

Works closely with the spirits of plenty and deficit

Myrcid- goddess of justice and fair rule

Patron Goddess of the Ojalana Empire

Astrapulli- God of the universal sky

His left eye is the moon- which is also inhabited by Herun, the spirit of moonlight

Co-creator of humanity

Fyrian- God of the earthly sky

His right eye is the sun- inhabited by the spirit of sunlight, Degras

Co-creator of humanity

Greavi- Goddess of the natural world

Co-creator of humanity

Krunin- god of the eternal flame

Commonly depicted as a war god, representing the undying loyalty and determination of soldiers, as well as the destruction of war.  In actuality he is a god of immortality and fire as his epithet would suggest, war is actually controlled by the spirit brin-who is close friends with Krunin.

Pynis (pie-nis)- Goddess of rocks and earth

Rylai (ree-ly)- god of living spirits

Has control over the souls of all living and dead creatures (including plants)

The spirit of death

Goes unnamed out of fear that writing the spirit’s name will call it to them.

It incites a soul’s journey to the beyond-place, which hosts the true kingdom of Rylai

[mk-writes-stuff]

Get to Know the Writeblr Questionnaire

Rules: answer the questions!

Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks and @willtheweaver for the tags :)

Basics

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!

I’ve had a tumblr for like… six months now? It’s been a writeblr for four or five of those

What led you to create it?

I don’t remember why I made the account originally. I made it into a writeblr because I wanted someplace to ramble about my first original WIP in like five years

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

Y’all are so friendly and supportive! I love how nice people are and every comment I get :)

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

I jump around between projects more than I’d like. I swear I am still working on Seven Stations, I’m just also doing a bit of other stuff and being hella busy, which is why I haven’t made much progress on it. I haven’t forgotten it, I swear!

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

Can’t think of much, I’m pretty happy. I do love polls though. Something about clicking buttons makes the brain go brrrrrr

WIPs

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Always Seven Stations and Pirates’ Roost. They never leave me. I do also have another fanfic short I’m working on because it possessed my brain, but that’s a very short-term project

How long have you been working on them?

Seven Stations (the original idea) is about five months old now. Pirates’ Roost has existed in one form or another for about four years, and has existed in its current form for about two. My random short is a week old lol

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

Seven Stations was inspired by the concept of “lesbian noblewoman and her bodyguard who hates her enemies to lovers in space fantasy.” Pirates’ Roost was inspired by my obsession with Magic: the Gathering and started taking shape in its current form when my gf introduced me to her OC Merry and decided to move him to Ixalan. My short is inspired by the fact that I can’t stop thinking about Star Wars: the Clone Wars

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Uh. A lot. My WIPs are my special interest, so probably at least several hours a day

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

“Fantasy and sci-fi.” Sometimes if we’re in a longer conversation I’ll give them a little Seven Stations blurb, although it rarely goes longer than “space fantasy political drama on a set of space stations”

Characters

Name any characters you created.  Side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

Oh boy, okay. This is interesting because my gf created or had such a strong creative influence on so many of the characters I write about that I can’t lay claim to a lot of them. But here’s some that I at least came up with the initial baseline for, although she’s probably had her influence on most of them too (I can’t exactly remember for sure but I’m pretty sure on these ones):

Seven Stations: Belladonna, Cassie, Cassiopeia, Stellaris, Ricinus, Goldenrod

Pirates’ Roost: Len, Favin, Finley Albertson, Julian, Kiali, Morrigan, Skipper

Other MTG: Amaranthe, Viveri “Viv” Evern, Andreia Kozlov, Salas Nivar, Tendrii Lenira, Sorcil, Adana, Estrill, Astrilla, Valentine, Remi, Kaine Belnatsky, Ettie Strubins

Other fandoms: Brin Damson, Baresh, Trax

Other original characters: Celestine, Maia, Fellise, Rhea, Ashlin, Medlar, Dravite, Rokku, Falcon, Jesker

There are definitely more but there’s a sampling :)

Who’s the most unhinged?

For Seven Stations, it’s Cassie. In general, Viv and Astrilla are probably vying for the top slot. I haven’t introduced y’all to them but they’re both CRACKED

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Once again it’s Cassie. And Stellaris, he’s very relatable

Do you ever cringe at them?

All the damn time

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?  AKA, do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?

They refuse to cooperate on a semi-regular basis. I can usually tell when I’m fighting to justify the action I want them to do. That means it’s time for a change-up

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? And do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? For example, as Asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on AO3, etc.

Literally anytime for any reason. I love it. Asks and reblog dare my favourite, but I’m not picky :)

Interaction

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on WIPs, or vibes?

I follow writeblrs if I like the look of their stuff enough that I want it on my dash

What makes you decide against following?

Anything that makes me uncomfortable (ranging anywhere from weird takes to content I just don’t like). Or if I’m just not vibing with their stuff. But sometimes I miss cool blogs too because I don’t have time to check out everything

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Not super often because I don’t often see their stuff but I’m not opposed to it. Feel free to come chat with me even if you’re not my mutual :)

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Oh yeah. Both the people who tagged me in this have characters I think about. But also @illarian-rambling has phenomenal OCs - Sepo lives in my brain on the little shelf of my favourite traumatized fictional little guys

This was a fun game! @somethingclevermahogony @nixwithapen @touloserlautrec want to play? Blanks below the cut :)

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine! What led you to create it? What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community? What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you? Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash? Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately? How long have you been working on them? Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started? How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them? When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say? Name any characters you created.  Side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like! Who’s the most unhinged? Who comes the most naturally for you to write? Do you ever cringe at them? How much control do you feel you have over your characters?  AKA, do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others? Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? And do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? For example, as Asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on AO3, etc. What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on WIPs, or vibes? What makes you decide against following? Do you interact with non-mutuals often? Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @lazysaturdayonthebeach based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Rating TBC.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

---

Kili took the news solemnly. The jump gate was down for repairs and no one wanted to work on Christmas Eve.

Fili made him his favorite coffee with eggnog, a cinnamon stick, and a large swirl of whipped cream, but even that didn’t earn him a smile. He wrapped the younger man in his favorite blanket and let him stare out the window morosely until he was ready to talk.

On his way back to the cockpit, he adjusted the heat in his sleek black flight suit. It was getting a bit chilly in their little shuttle. The environmental systems were conserving power. They carried extra provisions and fuel, but a one week journey stretched to almost three weeks challenged their reserves.

Their delivery mission to Ceti Alpha 5 was supposed to be a seven day round trip. If things had gone as planned, they would have been home a whole week before Christmas to make cookies, wrap presents, decorate, watch the pageants and parades, and drink coffee with eggnog to their hearts’ content. Instead, they had been stuck in orbit while a huge sandstorm raged for four days. They spent the next three days helping with rescue efforts before finally making their delivery on the twenty-first. If they were very lucky, they might make it home for New Year’s Eve Eve with enough power to stay comfortable.

More importantly, they were running out of the food Bilbo had packed and forced to eat their emergency rations. There was no danger of going hungry, but the prospect of potato soup for Christmas dinner was depressing. At home, there would be roast beast, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, sweet potatoes, and stuffed mushrooms. And that didn’t include all the potluck desserts like bread pudding, fruitcake, rum balls, gingerbread dwarves, rice pudding, chocolate chip cookies, pecan crescents, and spritz cookies that guests would bring.

Fili slumped into the pilot seat and distracted his stomach with the thought of the silver hair clasp he had made for Kili. No braids ever stayed in his wild luxurious mane, but a well-crafted clasp could keep it under just enough control to be respectable for important outings. Not that Kili cared about that, or the gift. He would be just as happy with an ugly Christmas sweater as a mithril archery glove. Had he seen Ori knitting sweaters for everyone this year? He rubbed his brow and hoped Ori would use a color found in nature. Maybe he could suggest a rainbow set for the family Christmas picture for next year. He giggled at the image.

What did he have here that he could fashion into a gift? It’s not the gift but the giving that was important. Surely he could think of something. Not for the first time, Fili wished he was better at origami. He really didn’t think a cup or a hat would work though. Could he write a poem? No. Cookies! They had oatmeal. Surely he could make something. He grabbed his tablet and started searching for a recipe that might work.

After half an hour of changing search parameters to be more and more specific, he found a recipe for banana oatmeal cookies with walnuts. He was ecstatic! Two ripe bananas, a cup of oatmeal and some walnuts was all he needed. Mix ‘em, scoop ‘em, bake ‘em in a pan for fifteen minutes at 350 degrees. Fili practically skipped off to the tiny galley to hide the bananas before Kili had the same idea.

Kili, meanwhile, had similar plans. Instead of cookies, however, he was crafting a virtual Christmas. Using the holographic navigation system, he loaded pictures of snowy lanes near their home where they went riding, reindeer, old Christmas pictures, ornaments they had made as children, pretty much everything Christmasy in the family cloud. If they couldn’t get home, he’d bring home to them.

Even with the last banana and a half safety hidden, an idea niggled Fili’s thoughts. While searching for snowball cookie recipes, Fili had stumbled across information about Rigel 7 and its current snowball glaciation. The residents there had moved into the oceans and used the currents to create a power supply. Nothing could stop the grinding of the glaciers, yet life was finding a way. They had a thriving tourist industry, too. Understandably, space was limited and reservations were mandatory. Still, it was within a day’s travel. Maybe they would take pity on a couple of stranded sailors at Christmas. He sent off a message and started working out the route. The navigation system was acting weird and slow. He sighed and wondered what else could go wrong.

Rigel Excursions Cooperative messaged Fili back within an hour. They did not have accommodations available, but they did have docking space and room for them on a Christmas Day tour. There was even a dinner reservation available. Screw the cookies! He was taking Kili to Rigel 7. Gimli would be so jealous.

While Fili excitedly confirmed details with REC, every scrap of non-essential paper onboard was rapidly becoming paper chains and snowflakes in Kili’s careful hands. There wasn’t much, but by making them thin and small, he was able to create enough to decorate the small living space. The shuttle was really just a studio apartment with a cockpit, an observation port, and a tiny engine room.

Humming from the galley drew Kili’s attention. Fili was making two mugs of coffee with the last of the eggnog. What was he thinking? Kili was saving that for tomorrow’s celebration. Before he could complain, Fili pulled him into a tight hug.

Over their coffees, Fili explained the trip to Rigel 7. If they had to have Christmas alone, they might as well do it in style and have a great story to tell when they got home. He finally got to see the smile Kili had been hiding all day and reveled in the joy.

Christmas morning started with snow blanketing their viewscreen. They really didn’t have the proper clothing for the tour, so they opted to wear their flight suits under their slacks, shirts, sweaters, and jackets. The tour vehicle would be heated, of course, but neither of them was taking any chances with the health and safety of the other. They bought hats in the gift shop and grinned at each other from under knitted snowballs.

Kili plastered himself against the window for the entire trip. Fili leaned against him, watching the scenery and Kili. Besides the pristine expanse of endless snow where wooly mammals made occasional appearances, they also toured some of the underwater facilities. The variety of fish, cephalopods, jellyfish, and even some cetaceans was astounding.

On the way to their dinner reservation, Kili ordered a dozen more hats boxed up as souvenirs for the family. The clerk even offered to wrap them. He was definitely getting a picture of the whole family in those.

Their Christmas meal turned out to be at the finest restaurant in the resort. The buffet was huge. Diners in holiday dress mingled as they refilled their plates with wild-caught seafood, fruits and vegetables from the resort’s underwater greenhouses, pasta dishes, pastries, and even ice cream. They were so full that by the time they got back to their shuttle, they fell into bed and a sound sleep.

When Fili woke, Kili had strung the decorations and had the hologram running. It was almost like being home, minus the over excited children screaming and running everywhere. Indeed, the first thing they heard when they used the Rigel communications link to call home was screaming children. Bombur’s brood seemed to be using Bombur and Dwalin as steeds to race around the room.

They laughed and chatted for many minutes. They reassured Bilbo that they has purchased several excursion baskets from the resort caterer and would eat well on the trip home. As soon as the gate opened, they would be home in three days. Thorin promised that the family would host Second Christmas as soon as they arrived. Most of the presents under the tree, except for the children’s, were awaiting their arrival. Christmas just wasn’t Christmas with them missing. Everyone teared up and the call ended before any actual tears started to flow.

Kili bumped his shoulder into Fili. “What now?”

“Want to eat all the cookies and go back to bed until we get the call for our turn at the gate?” Fili suggested. Both giggled and started digging through the food boxes.

They did make it home for New Year’s Eve Eve. The party lasted three days.

[lchufflepuffcorn]

A Crown of Roots and Ice

Epilogue

Warning: Death, mention of grief, flashforward, descriptive anxiety-inducing moments, mention of wounds.

Words: 1, 867k

Author's note: The gif is not mine, as usual, it belongs to its owner/creator. This is my brainchild, the very first series I was able to finish writing IN MY LIFE. It took me three years, blood, sweat and tears, the love of all of my readers and the release of House of The Dragon for it to happen. I'm very proud of it, but that doesn't mean I won't change it someday ( by change it I mean rewrite some parts or add some things...) So thank you all for your support and your patience, I love you all very much.

Masterlist OGW Masterlist

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Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four, Part five, Epilogue.

Extra : Before Brin’s birth

Taglist: @aegonslover, @aemondsluvr, @yash98.

For love never falters when memories fade

It was a dark, cold night when the lady of the castle awakened, drenched as if she had run for miles. Something deep in her bones ached in panic. The lady couldn't fathom the reason for such a fright.

Her breath came in short, laboriously working its way from her lungs to the cold chamber, leaving her in clouds.

Heart beating erratically in her throat and the feeling of an imminent danger lurking still vivid in her mind, the lady of the castle choose to rise from the warmth of her furs to take a short walk. Hopefully, checking on her sons would calm her nerves if she saw they were alright.

For they were to be safe and sound, of course.

It had been many moons since her nightmares plagued her sleeping moments every so often. Shadows slithering in the dead of night, bringing cold and ice in their tracks. A muted grey light flashed before a freezing feeling in her bones. Red wine splattering in the snow. For months, she'd been woken up with cold sweat ruining the furs for the night, short and panicked breaths waking Bran in turn.

There was nothing he could do to ease her fright on those nights.

For weeks Lady (Y/N) had made her sons sleep between her lord husband and herself. It took a long time for Bran to convince her that their guards were adequate to protect them from anything. Even then, he offered her a long knife for her name day.

"You won't need it." He'd whisper on her neck one night, fingers sliding up and down her naked arm, in his best effort to reconcile her with the night.

"Hmm…" (Y/N) had humoured Bran but never took the knife from under the pillows. He never asked for her to either.

It was silly that the thing made her feel at ease when she slept alone in their room. For Bran was gone. Back to his duties once more. (Y/N) made her way silently in the castle's halls toward her son's shared room. Bran's knife swiftly concealed in her sleeping gown and furs still failed to ease her mood. The two guards were posted at the entrance, and a simple nod was given to her when she entered.

Her free hand had slithered its way to her belly, where a soft bump was starting to show.

Brin and Aeron were sleeping like she knew they would. Brin had his father's features, even at six years of age. Aeron held more of you, from your complexion to his mannerism. Nagga and Aeron's pup, Leviathan, named after one of their mother's many stories, curled at the feet of the boy's respective beds.

Nagga was the only one to open an eye when (Y/N) sat in the rocking chair near the door. She shushed him passing by, holding one of his ears gently between her fingers before settling. Covering herself with the embroidered duvet Meira had gifted her at Aeron's birth, the lady of the castle let her anxiety diminish at the sight of her sleeping sons.

Breaths evening to a slow, repeating rhythm, eyes growing heavy with the lack of stimulation, (Y/N) let herself get caught in the room's darkness and the duvet's warmth, finding herself floating in comfort for the first time in too many nights.

It was a bit later that the lady's eyes opened once more. Now in the shadowed room of her children. Her heart was racing, sweat rolling down in beads from the nape of her neck to her spine, yet an aching cold held the room captive. Her breath once more elevated before her eyes, paler in the room's darkness than the rest.

Lady (Y/N)'s eyes travelled from her eldest son's bed -closer to the door- then to her secondborn, farther away, scanning for anything moving that shouldn't be there. Nothing. She tried to bring warmth back to her nose. The room was colder than when she'd entered it.

A light 'thud' from outside made her heart in a tormenting frenzy, faster than it had already been. Instinctively, her hand clenched around the knife's handle and tossed the duvet aside as she rose from her seat. Her furs followed next. Arms free to move as she pleased, only encombered by the nightdress she wore. Moving from the rocking chair to stand closer to her eldest son's bed, she took the stance Bran showed her when she'd asked.

(Y/N) made sure, however, not to stand in front of the door, so she could keep the element of surprise like Walton had taught her long ago. Nagga and Leviathan stood right in front of the door, the fur around their neck raised and low growls escaping their throat.

Nagga moved first, jumping on the door (Y/N) hadn't known being opened. The dog must have surprised whoever had been on the other side, for a yelp echoed on the stone walls as the creature lashed at them.

A clatter soon followed the chaos, and a shadow slithered its way inside the room, slashing Leviathan's neck as it pounced toward it. Cutting its roar short, leaving only the wet choking sound of air and blood mixing.

Lady (Y/N) didn't need more time to think when she jumped forward, slashing with all her might at the grayish shadow before her. It tried to attack her too, but (Y/N) jumped back just like her older brother had once shown her. It stopped for a second, and the lady took action once more. Dark glare met icy cold emptiness for the first time before combat was launched.

Grabbing a limb and twisting to turn it towards her. She'd managed to pierce the skin, she thought, when a heavy hand threw her aside.

Cold consumed her ribs like a lake suddenly becoming ice, and the shock of her back meeting the stone cut her exhale short, and a cry escaped the woman's lips before she could stop it, but she made no movement to feel the injury. 'Must not show weakness.' Walton had once said. She hadn't had the chance to take a new breath or regain her sense of orientation when something heavy sat on her chest.

Lady (Y/N)'s hands rose instinctively toward those of her attacker. She caught them before the blade could break the skin of her neck, yet she could still feel the coldness of it too close to her throat for her comfort. Unable to release one hand to grab her knife, she tried using her legs to destabilize the thing on her.

"Mother!"

Nagga's growls and sharp calls must have woken the boys, (Y/N) knew it. The sobs she could hear were those of Aeron.

With a new desperation, she pushed the hands farther up and grabbed her knife, knocking the blade with her arm as she struck. Icy cold with yet a fiery warmth following it flowed in the armed she used as a shield, the weapon stuck in her shoulder, and a grunt left the lady. She didn't try to cower, instead trying to strike once more.

Aiming to hurt or destabilizing over killing just yet. It managed to push its damned blade deeper inside her shoulder despite the lady's trashing around.

Pushing what was over her to the side, she struck it again in the head. Then, again and again, she made sure it stayed down before turning to her sons.

"Stay here." Her breath was coming in short, and she must have twisted her ankle while falling, for pain shot through it as she walked.

The lady exited the room to join a whining yet still growling Nagga on the other side. It was slowly losing its battle against the assassin, blood wetting its fur as it had Leviathans.

Making the best of the crouched position her assailant was in, Lady (Y/N) lunged toward it and struck again, aiming for the face.

Once again, cold erupted in her, the lungs incapable of drawing breath for a short time. The assassin had lodged its blade under her breast. (Y/N) moved before it could remove the weapon and kicked at the creature to keep it away.

The commotion had risen the guards toward the boy's room, and soon, the second assassin was eliminated. All happened in a blur, and the lady was removed before it could resolve itself completely. With the danger now taken care of, she could barely stand alone and was forcefully escorted back to her room. Standing between two tall guards making her feel like she was a little girl again. They could not contain her before getting the maids to bring her sons and Nagga.

Apparently, they removed the bodies of the intruders and burned them. The two guards and Leviathan were brought out of the room to be given proper funerals. When mother and sons were finally bunched together, safe, warm and loved, the lady kissed both her boy to sleep.

While being fussed over by maesters, Lady (Y/N) asked for a crow to be sent to her husband. "So he'd be informed of the situation."

She also asked for her brother Urion to be sent a messenger informing him of the situation. Breathing was becoming laborious, and her cough sounded wetter by the minute.

In the letter addressed to her brother, the maester wrote that lady (Y/N) had not been conscious when her death occurred. Sleeping with her children, exhausted from the battle and the blood loss. It was also written to the man that Bran was yet to know about his wife's death, as his crow left four hours before Urion's.

Brin and Aeron cried their little heart out when a maid ushered them out of their mother's cold embrace once the sun came out. Maester somberly nodded their heads as they covered the lady of the castle's face.

Bran could remember the funerals held for her. The crown of roots placed on her hair, a dress in the Stark's colours and a blanket of her family's crest placed as if she was resting beneath it. He could remember the cold in his chest as he watched the fire take her form.

The empty hole it left in his heart as he clenched his son's shoulders.

He could feel the brief warmth of tears rolling on his face before the wind turned them into ice droplets.

Bran could also remember -being shaken as he was sitting in the chariot trailing him to King's Landing- the imagery of a Lady carved in the rocks. He could still see the stone sepulture, both as it was first and as he saw it when he was a boy. The eroded face was once detailed as his aunt was. The sculpture's hands crumpled from the touch of those her loss had hurt the most.

Bran could remember all those things of the ghost he saw that night when winter had lost. But he hadn't found anything relating her story in the archives of the Starks. Brandon's wife had never been mentioned. Only his firstborn Brin, well, Brandon, was named.

Bran could remember that her statue was the only one made with a crown.

And it made his heart soar.

[captainsophiestark]

Being the adopted child of the Jarvises would include...

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by @bandshirts-andbooks​ :) This is my first time writing headcanons, so hopefully they’re good and you like it!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: As the title says :)

Word Count: 1,096 lmao I’m incapable of writing short things

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: Special shoutout to @ghostofskywalker​ for beta-ing this for me (QUEEN ily) and for the addition about Bernard lol

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Ok, so as we know from Agent Carter, Ana and Edwin Jarvis both DEFINITELY want kids

As we also know, Ana can’t have kids biologically after she literally almost died from a gunshot

They would be SO EXCITED to adopt a kid, and probably started the process as soon as the Isodyne/Whitney Frost/Vernon Masters stuff got figured out

They would be SO. PROTECTIVE. Omg, you can’t even imagine

And the rest of the crew? OH BOY. But we’ll get to that later

Basically, these two are the best parents. Ever.

They’re both patient and kind and caring, and the three of you are absolute GOALS. I’m talking tightest-knit family ever

And like, you still argue sometimes, because everyone does. But no matter how much you argue, you know they both still love you so much. It never, ever hurts your relationship

Ana is so sweet and soft and kind

You can talk to her about anything

Peak Mom Vibes™

She’s always ready to listen with ice cream, cookies, and milk at the ready if you need them (or whatever your comfort foods are)

You can tell her ANYTHING and she’s ready to listen with no judgment, only kind understanding

She just loves you so, so much, and it’s so clear in every single thing she does as your mother

Edwin is equally kind and caring and loving, although in a slightly different way

Especially once you get into dating-age, he’s running full background checks on anyone you bring home with his SSR and Howard Stark connections

He just adores you and wants to make sure you’re safe and happy, and with someone as wonderful as you are

He’s also pretty easy to talk to though, and you guys share a bunch of special, unique traditions

Following him around in the process of taking care of the Stark Menagerie

Bernard adored you from the first day you met him and your dad’s still salty about it

Making THE PERFECT cup of tea and sharing it together in the living room as you listen to your favorite radio program together

Sitting and talking together over some leftover snacks, long after Ana has gone to bed, just sharing about your days and your lives and everything going on in them

He is low key the BEST dad, it’s incredible

Speaking of snacks, y’all definitely cook and bake together as a family

Like omg, the level of food coming out of your family kitchen??? InSANE

You become such a good cook just from hanging around in the kitchen with the two of them

And you end up loving cooking because they always made it a family event

You gather together, work on things in the kitchen together while talking about your days, eat together, and then do the dishes together

Basically, you three are absolutely inseparable, and you’re completely unashamed to say your parents are your best friends

Additionally, unrelated to Ana and Edwin’s parenting styles, the rest of the crew is so SO protective of you

Like, Peggy Carter would absolutely kill any man that made you feel unsafe/uncomfortable

You grow up calling her “Aunt Peggy”, which is its own kind of incredible, and she’s the fun aunt mischievous influence that we all need in our lives

“Aunt Peggy, this boy’s being mean to me at school”

“Punch him and show him who’s boss once and for all. Here, I’ll show you the right stance”

Daniel, although less chaotic, would also absolutely kill for you

Pity anyone you bring home, honestly

Daniel’s also a good person to go to with anything you might not want to bring to your parents, although there’s basically nothing you can’t talk to them about. He’s always kind and understanding, and if you tell him something in confidence, he never shares it with ANYONE

Jack is the Bad Uncle™ with all the shady skills and questionable advice to go with it

Ana and Edwin left him on babysitting duty exactly one time, and then never again

Still, he comes around for holidays and stuff and always teaches you fun new skills like how to hotwire a car, for emergency purposes only of course

He’d never admit it, but he actually has such a soft spot for you. He loves hanging out with you, and once you get old enough to know when to ignore his bad ideas, he’s on babysitting/chaperone/whatever else duty whenever Ana and Edwin let him take it

One time when Ana and Edwin couldn’t make it to be chaperones on a school trip, Jack volunteered to take their place, and it was an adventure to say the least. But that’s a different fic.

Howard has no idea how to handle kids, but he ends up absolutely loving you

Low key, you’re the reason he decides to have Tony after he gets serious with Maria

It’s just so FUN for him to have a kid around to pass knowledge on to and to share lab time with and everything else that goes with having a science child

Whenever you spend time with him, Ana and Jarvis pick up a few gray hairs from the new information he’s given you that can easily be put to use in terms of mischief

Like Jack, Howard is only allowed to babysit once or twice before Ana and Edwin realize it’s definitely not worth the trouble that comes after a babysitting session

With all your extended family at the SSR and Stark Industries, however, no matter how infrequently they babysit, you are SO. LOVED.

You’re the first kid brought into the mix, and everyone absolutely adores you

And you know you have at least 5 other parents who are hovering around you and ready and willing to help with any little thing besides your actual parents

But as much as that’s a wonderful thing to have, you don’t really need them, because Ana and Edwin are the best parents you could’ve asked for

They’re wonderful, even when you have challenging patches, and you love them more than you could ever express

The three of you are such a loving, tight-knit family, and you’re absolute goals for everyone else

Basically, being an adopted child of the Jarvises is a dream come true, to the same degree that you’re a dream come true for them to have as a child

They love you no matter what and they have your back through everything

Even if it’s not by blood, you’re a Jarvis to the core, and absolutely nothing could ever tell you otherwise

****************

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate​

[shearlin]

Word count: 2395

Chapter 6: Wind

First || << Previous || Next >>

A day late but it's here!

This is a silly chapter, a tiny break from having angst in the first section :) I really like it. It inverts the formula of the previous chapters but I think it turned out okay.

A bit of a behind the scene update: I... might have scrapped 5k words of the 9th chapter because I didn't like how it was turning out. I've planned out and locked a new outline for it, but yeah I am really slow to write something new (that's the reason I've prewritten this fic before posting it excluding that last chapter, because 9 weeks is plenty of time, right?) and I hope I will be able to finish it on time, but... yeah :/

Anyway, Wind chapter is here! Enjoy :D

Barely a day has passed and Legend was already fed up. Worst part? He only had himself to blame.

He was justified as far as he was concerned. Not only was Ravio clearly going through his stuff and renting his adventure gear - again - they also only had a half an hour or so to spare to make a detour to his house and allow Legend to swap his gear and for all of them to restock potions and arrows at Ravio’s shop. They were in the middle of pursuit of a group of monsters. Who knew, what would the horde do if they let them get too far ahead or if the chain would be able to go back to his house once they finish the job.

The standard argument he had with Ravio almost every time he returned home after the merchant decided to move in, about whether the rental of his old gear was a good idea or not took him… more than they realised. 

So he kind of… shoved everything in sight into his bags and stormed off.

Well, not everything everything. He had a very good and clear reason to pack every single item he did and to leave those he didn’t behind.

If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.

If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.

So here he was. In another Hyrule, a day later, in the middle of the clearing where they made a camp to rest in for a day or two after the hard battle, trying to sort through the haphazardly grabbed items and somehow make his bag manageable again. He swore to every deity he knew the name of, if he would reach for one thing only to take out something completely different that was in its spot one more time- he was going to lose it.

“Need a hand with that, vet?” Four asked, keeping his distance outside of the circle of chaos around the other hero, doing impressively well to hide his amusement at the situation.

Four, among the others, tried to appeal to his reason when he was stuffing six-adventures-worth of items into his pouches. Only the fear of possible retaliation from the man with an entire arsenal in his back pocket stopped the ‘I told you so’s from spilling out.

“Do not touch my stuff,” he growled in response, putting all his seeds with the slingshot and the seed shooter - I never use scent seeds. Why do I still keep them with the rest? - and fishing out yet another shovel from the pile on the left, from between the different rods and canes. He knew he wanted to bring a backup to avoid the awkward situation from a week ago, when they were lacking in the equipment department but by Din this was an overkill.

Maybe they had a point. Maybe talking with Ravio distracted him too much after all…

“Why do you even have this many shovels? And why did you brin-? The question died on smithy’s lips at the murderous gaze Legend sent his way. “I’ll umm… I’ll be over there if you change your mind.”

With that, Four retreated to Sky and Hyrule on the other side of the camp, the three of them watching the whole ordeal from a safe distance.It didn’t mean he was left alone. Oh no. Far from that.

Read the rest on Ao3!