#i am afraid to tag the rest of the fandoms

[astonmartinii]

friendship bracelets | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

charles' gf is beloved in the fandom for her love for frienship bracelets

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, charles_leclerc and 341,874 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: charles fell asleep mid craft session :(

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user3: she's everything, he's just ken

charles_leclerc: this is a false narrative, i was just resting my eyes and not allowing myself to distract you from your hard work

yourusername: i'd say you're a man of the people but your snoring is something else

charles_leclerc: I DO NOT SNORE TAKE THAT BACK

danielricciardo: i've taken enough flights with you charlie to confirm that you do in fact snore

charles_leclerc: i am being stabbed in the back so many times today you hate to see it

user4: i'm going to spa, guarantee me a friendship bracelet and i'll back you

charles_leclerc: done ✅

user4: charles marc herve perceval leclerc has factually NEVER snored in his entire life and any allegations that he has are both slanderous and libellous and you will be DEALT WITH IN A COURT OF LAW

yourusername: ummm what?

charles_leclerc: what colour bracelet do you want?

user5: what in the everloving fuck just happened?

lilymunhe: anyhow... y/n you are so sexy

yourusername: right back at you baby ;)

daniel3.jpeg

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 489,034 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

daniel3.jpeg: this friendship bracelet business is serious stuff, also charles and y/n being gross as usual

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user6: fuck romeo and juliet i want what these bitches have

yourusername: daniel do not underestimate the power of the friendship bracelets

danielricciardo: oh i'm not doubting it i saw a girl ignore me, jump across the hood of my car just to get one

yourusername: i mean i'm pretty sure that girl broke a toe, i paid for her health insurance

landonorris: people are breaking toes for these things?

yourusername: it was not the intent on my behalf, i just wanted a sister/brotherhood among fans

user7: don't make them so cute then

charles_leclerc: what do you mean gross? daniel, can i not be happily in love?

danielricciardo: i am happy for you charles but if i have to hear you break out in a sonnet about the smell of y/n's perfume or the colour of her eyes i will pull my hair out

yourusername: what hair?

danielricciardo: ????

yourusername: sorry i admit that was a low blow from me

user8: is that charles taking a pic of y/n in the last one?

yourusername: yes my lovely lil photographer

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari and 1,403,874 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

f1: make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it, you've got no reason to be afraid ✨ y/n and charles arrived at spa this weekend with the friendship bracelets that are coveted by f1 fans!

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user11: all the loser men in this comment section making fun of these don't understand how much of a stan FLEX it is to have one of these

user12: no jokes if i see someone with one this weekend i'm offering them out on the spot

user13: i literally only put mine on after the race when i got home cause i was so scared it would get stolen

alexalbon: cringey faves

yourusername: are you still annoyed i ran out last race before you could get one?

alexalbon: why did lily get one before me :(((

lilymunhe: girlies first

yourusername: what lily said

user14: all jokes aside the whole friendship bracelet thing has been great for creating a sense of belonging for girls in this sport and i can't thank y/n enough for giving us something that is uniquely ours in f1

yourusername: that honestly makes me so so happy, girls get a tough ride in all sports, but esp in f1 and i wanted to find a way to bring us all together and i actually wanted to ask if the girls (and guys) wanted to start making our own and start exchanging them at races :)

f1: we back this !!

charles_leclerc: lift the jewellery ban so i can wear mine in the car

yourusername: i can't allow you to put that extra weight in the car the sf-23 needs all the help it can get

scuderiaferrari: :((((

user15: LOOOOOOOOOL

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, charles_leclerc and 509,871 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: my heart is so full. first, charlie back on the podium where he deserves to be, i'm so proud my love, you'll be back to winning ways soon. second, MY GIRLS. words cannot express how happy i was to see you all exchanging bracelets and making new friends! i also received so many from you which will all go in my collection at home. safe journeys back and see you guys after the summer break.

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user16: it really is the summer of the girls and barbie

user17: i've literally never felt more included at a gp before, so many girls just introduced themselves to each other and i made so many new friends :))))

charles_leclerc: thank you cheri, i love you always

yourusername: you deserve everything my love

charles_leclerc: also thank you everyone for the friendship bracelets, we got given enough for the entire ferrari garage has one as well as everyone who worked in paddock club this weekend!! keep spreading the love <3

user18: never have i ever loved a couple more than these two

user19: i am allowing my parasocial relationship to go wild rn

danielricciardo: thank you for starting this y/n even if i thought it was a bit silly to start with but my arms are full and i'm FEELING the love

maxverstappen1: same here, p is enjoying all her new bracelets 🧡

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 908,673 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: back on the podium - i'm very happy with that, the best way to go into the summer! thank you for all of your support ❤️

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user20: my king right there

user21: the rocketships don't count so p1 in my heart

yourusername: prince of monaco doing prince of monaco things

charles_leclerc: makes sense since you're my princess

landonorris: GAG

yourusername: let us be cute, be lonely on your own time

scuderiaferrari: proud of you charles

yourusername: build a better car i beg

user22: speaking for all of us

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,098,673 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: suprised her with a trip to paradise and she's still making friendship bracelets

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user23: they're both so sexy i can't

yourusername: i love you but you can't take the hobby out of the girl

user24: she loves us too much to stop now

yourusername: they're not wrong ....

charles_leclerc: you love me the most though, right?

yourusername: of course!!

user25: oh to be them

pierregasly: invite lost in the mail i see

charles_leclerc: literally the romantic trip you helped me plan?

pierregasly: i still i want you to take me for pasta dinners?

yourusername: back off frenchie

note: ENJOY, i kinda love this but let me know what you think - i am getting to requests but this popped into my head and i had to write it before i forgot

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Sprout [Pero Tovar x f!reader]

Read on AO3

Sequel to Seed.

Fandom: The Great Wall

Ships: Pero Tovar x f!reader

Tags/warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, dirty talk, some angst and fighting but also making up with more sex, labor, you get it. Soft Pero!

Words: 5,999

Summary: After trying long and hard, you are finally pregnant. Pero is delighted, but now begins a time of waiting and fussing and, well, lots of sex. That's the plot.

When you finally become pregnant, you know it immediately.

It is eerie, almost magical, the way you just feel something take root in your womb. Not the presence of a person, but just something new, something growing. It is early morning, you awake before Pero, last night’s coupling still a warm, sticky memory on your skin along with his breath, his limbs so tightly wound around yours. You mean to rouse him with kisses and caresses, but then you feel it, and you just know. A blissful smile spreading on your face, you decide to relish this feeling for as long as you can, and so you just stay still and quiet, one hand on your lower abdomen. When Pero eventually stirs, hands and lips starting to claim you, you gently peel them off of you.

“I’m sore,” you whisper to him, accepting a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t be. I just need a rest.”

He pecks your lips again before releasing you to start the day. You hear him use the chamber pot, and when he comes back into the bedroom, he stops and looks at you, brows drawn together.

"What?" you ask.

"You look different."

"Do I?" You can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but in the same moment you decide not to tell him, not just yet. You want to be sure, live with this new presence by yourself for a couple of days.

"Yes."

He grabs his shirt and trousers, pulling them on while regarding you. You shrug innocently.

"Don't know what it would be."

That was all for that morning.

You tell him about a week later. The feeling of attachment deep within you had not diminished, and you have become more confident that it is real. During the entire week, you have gently turned down Pero's advances, citing tiredness and aches. Pero may be a loving husband, but he does not keep track of your monthly bleeding, and so he seems to have accepted that it's your time of the month, and been content with sweet caresses and kisses.

It's evening when you tell him. You're sitting together outside the house, facing the back garden. Surrounded by fragrance in the dying light, listening the first cicadas of the night starting the concertos, you feel that it is the right time to tell him.

"Husband," you start, lifting your head from his shoulder and facing him. "There is something I need to tell you."

His features are immediately painted with a wariness, like he is expecting bad news. Your sweet warrior husband, always ready for life to be full of hardships. You give him a reassuring smile.

"It's nothing bad, I promise."

"Then what is it?" he barks, hand squeezing yours like he's afraid you are going to get up and leave.

"I'm with child."

His eyebrows shoot up, leaving his eyes round and wide open, just like his mouth.

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," you giggle now, his reaction too amusing not to cause you mirth. "I am certain, Pero, that you are going to be a father."

His face is as raw as it was on your wedding day, the joy shaving years off his scarred features. He raises your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles before pressing your hand to his heart, and then his lips are on yours. You feel him tremble a little, from nerves, happiness, or excitement you don't know, but you pull him in for the kiss, and he relaxes in your arms.

He carries you inside and lays you on the bed, never stopping to kiss you until he has to, in order to pose a question.

"Can we...?"

"I think we can," you answer breathlessly before pulling him in for more kisses. Pero needs no further permission: he lays down over you, stealing your breath away with him kisses before sitting up to get you undressed. When you're naked before him, he leans down to trail soft kisses over your belly.

"My child," he murmurs, looking up at you, eyes shining. "You will take care of my child, won't you?"

"You know I will," you promise, shivering from the goosebumps of pleasure induced by Pero's bristly skin.

"And I will take care of you, wife," he vows, trailing light kisses down between your legs, which fall open to accommodate him.

He’s more gentle than usual, more perceptive of your mewls, the way your legs twitch, your grip on the sheets. It may not be his intention, but he ends up tormenting you even more with his slowness. It is a stark contrast to the frantic fucking of the past few weeks. His seed, shot inside you on a daily basis, has finally taken root, and he seems determined to nourish that little sapling as best he can. Even if that means teasing you at the brink of release until you’re sobbing.

“Pero…!” You’re writhing, trying to push yourself against his mouth for the relief you need, but his arms tighten around your thighs, rendering your lower body immovable.

“Hush,” he admonishes you in a thick whisper. “You have to relax, my darling, you can’t get overexcited.”

You press the back of your head into the pillow and run your fingers through your hair.

“Please,” you whisper desperately, “please, Pero, I can’t bear it any longer.”

You know he’s smiling from the curve of his lips against your sensitive inner thighs, and then he finally takes mercy on you. The orgasm feels stronger than usual, maybe due to the prolonged, sweet torture, or because of your condition. When Pero presses a kiss to your inner thigh, you almost kick him, your legs coming together to seal in the pulses in your pussy, and you turn over onto your side to get away. He lets you be for a moment, hearing from your breathy moans that you are unharmed, but he soon takes a gentle grip of your arm, and makes you roll onto your back again.

“My love,” he hums, dipping down to brush his lips over yours. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” you manage, and that works as enough of a reassurance for him to press his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet enough, but you sense the urgency in him, and his cock is hard and leaking against your thigh.

“Come to me, husband,” you mumble, opening your legs anew. Pero is instantly between them, guiding his cock into you. He slides in easily enough as he lays down over you, and you brace yourself for his usual brand of frenzy. He does, however, stay still, sheathed deeply inside you, as he cradles your face and kisses you. You are full of him, so full, and yet you want more, so you raise your hips to urge him to move.

“Patience, my love,” he reprimands you gently, kissing your forehead before moving his hips only enough to be able to push them into your again. “We have time.”

“I need you,” you pout, happy with how it makes him swallow hard.

“I know, wife, and you shall have me every single day, but we need to be careful. “ Another thrust, slow but so deep, makes you whimper. “We will make sure that the baby grows big and strong.” He thrusts again and your nails press into his back. “I will make sure that you are satisfied, my love, and that our baby is happy as it grows inside you.” One more thrust has you running your nails down his back. Hissing, he punishes you with a stab of his cock right up against your womb, and when you bare your throat to him, he dives down to suck his love marks into your skin. His hips move with more insistence now as he fucks you bruising deep, and when he releases his seed into you, he whimpers in a way you have never heard before. Your arms wrapped around him, you pull him down over you, forcing him to stay inside of you for as long as he’s hard. When he finally rolls off of you, he whispers his I love you first into your ear, then to your belly.

A couple of weeks later, you have your first morning of being sick. Pero had taken to a morning routine of greeting both you and your belly with kisses and caresses, but he barely touched you before you fly out of bed, barely making it to the slop bucket in the kitchen before your stomach turns inside out.

Pero hovers behind you, unsure how to help you as you retch into the bucket, but when you rise and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, he’s there to embrace you, combing your hair away from your face.

“Are you done?”

“I think so,” you tell him weakly, and he carries you back to bed and tucks you in before bringing you water. He then proceeds to building a fire, and making breakfast that he brings in to you.

“You don’t have to fuss,” you tell him, a little embarrassed at his extreme measures. “I’m perfectly capable of making us breakfast.”

“You need rest,” he tells you with a finality that you have never heard from him before. “Take it easy. You work so hard already.”

“No harder than you.”

“When I’m not escorting caravans, I don’t do much. Now eat, if you can stomach it.”

You can, and you’re suddenly ravenous.

After breakfast, you take your basket and go down to the marketplace to do your daily shopping, and when you return to find Pero outside the house, brushing down the horse, you sigh deeply as you put down the basket.

“Well, everybody knows now.”

“Knows what?” Pero asks, resting one hand on the horse’s strong neck. The warm sun has already turned his hairline damp, and he’s squinting against the light. You give him a what do you think? look, and he nods.

“I threw up the second I smelled fish,” you tell him, the sour taste still fresh in your mouth. “We’re having meat for the time being, husband.”

He shrugs, not having a preference one way or the other.

“Suits me fine. Are you well?”

“I’m fine.” You pick up the basket again and kiss his cheek, careful not to exhale what with your breath being so foul. “I’ll go in, put all this away.

“Leave the basket, I’ll carry it inside when I’m done with the horse.”

“I can do it, it’s not heavy.”

He glares at you then, clearly unhappy, but you kiss his cheek again.

“Don’t worry, Pero.”

But he does worry. And his worry grows with each day that starts with you throwing up. You are not showing, and the only sign of your condition, to him, is you being sick. He can’t feel what you feel, the presence inside you, although he tries every night, digging deep and slow into you until you’re begging him to cum because you can’t take it anymore.

That worry culminates one afternoon when he catches you carrying water from the well in your garden.

“Just what the hell do you think you are doing?” he glowers at you as you step in, burdened with one bucket in each hand. You stare at him, not even understanding what he’s talking about.

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t be carrying something so heavy!”

“Pero – “

“You need to be more careful.” He makes it sound like you have been living irresponsibly, and it makes you furious because he has never spoken to you like this before. That scowl of his would scare anyone else in the village, but not you. You simply put down the buckets, your hands coming to your hips as you scowl right back.

“Now you listen to me, Pero Tovar! I am not frail, I am not ill, I am able to perform my chores! I may be pregnant, I may not be able to keep my breakfast, but there is nothing about my state that is abnormal!”

He seems a little taken back with your response but collects himself quickly.

“You should be resting more,” he insists, “and you getting this upset isn’t good for you, either.”

“I am not getting upset, you are making me upset!” you snap, heat rising to your cheeks. “I am doing fine and I would be doing even better if you weren’t so hell-bent on making me feel like I was dying!”

“It is precisely to stop you from dying that I am being so protective!” he bites back. You clearly hit a nerve there, and you’re angry enough to keep pinching it.

“So I cannot carry water during the day, but you can nail me to our bed every night?” you spit. “That’s a very strange way of protecting me, is it not?”

His jaws move, like he’s screaming something new at you, but then he casts down his eyes, his frown still prominent and neck muscles bulging. You cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting for his next move, but he just mutters something before storming out. You stare at the closed door, not expecting his departure. Pero has not survived by backing away from a fight.

You go on doing your chores, your blood coming down from its boil, and by the time supper is on the table, Pero returns. He stands by the door, leaning against it like he’s unsure that he’s welcome, but you gesture silently at his customary seat at the table, so he comes and sits down. You serve the food, you both eat it, and not until your plates are empty does Pero clear his throat.

“I’m sorry for earlier.”

You meet his soft gaze, seeing the regret – but also fear.

“Husband,” you whisper, but he shakes his head.

“I’m so afraid of losing you, my love.”

“I know.”

“I have never had anything as… good, and beautiful, as you, and the thought of losing you…”

“I know, my love,” you nod. You know this fear, but you have not known the same hard life as Pero has, and that helps you in not being ruled by that fear.

“Losing both you and our baby…”

“But you won’t,” you cut him off, softly but with conviction.

“You don’t know that. There is so much that can go wrong.”

“I don’t know that, no. I just believe it. I believe we will be okay in the end.” You reach your hand across the table, and Pero takes it. “Can’t you believe with me?”

A small, hopeful smile lights up his face. “I’ll try.”

Leaving everything on the table, you take him to bed. As you undo his belt, the belt pouch falls to the floor, and you hear the clinking of glass.

“Fuck,” Pero grunts. “I forgot.”

He bends down to pick up the pouch, pulling two bottles from it. He exhales in relief when discovering that they’re not broken.

“What are those?” you want to know, eyeing the two bottles, one larger, the other no bigger than Pero’s thumb.

“I went to the midwife,” he tells you, rolling the small bottle between his fingers. “She says that a couple of drops of this on your tongue every morning will help with your vomiting.”

You pick up the bottle and pull out the cork. The sunny, sweet smell of oranges wafts out. You quirk a brow and look at Pero, who shrugs.

“It’s worth trying, don’t you think?”

“It is.” You put the cork back and close your fingers over the bottle. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s been hard for me to see you be so sick,” he confesses, hand coming to a soft rest on your waist. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s not so bad, husband,” you assure him. “It’s just in the mornings, and it’s not going to last.”

“I hope the tincture will help.”

“If not, you have another bottle?”

“Oh.” Pero holds up the bigger bottle, as if he had forgotten about it. “This is not medicine.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s oil for your belly,” he explains, and now his gaze turns soft. “The midwife said that as your belly begins to grow, the skin often turns dry. This is to help with that.”

You smile, your hand coming up to his bristly cheek.

“That’s so sweet of you, Pero.”

“I promise I’ll rub it onto you every night, starting now,” he vows with a mischievous little smile, and you giggle.

“I’m not showing yet!”

“The midwife said it’s important to start before the skin begins to stretch, so would you please take your clothes off, wife, and lie down on the bed.”

You laugh, but it’s not you who ends up lying on the bed, it’s Pero.

“You’ve been so good to me,” you purr, sitting astride him and teasing his cock hard by rubbing your cunt against it. “Let me take care of you now, husband.”

“Yes,” he swallows hard, “my love, please.”

You kiss the wet tip of his cock, nip at the head, trail the veins down his length with your tongue, make him whine and writhe and come apart for you. You give him only a moment to catch his breath before you take his cock in your hand and stroke it to keep it hard. Pero inhales with a hiss.

“Oh, fuck, careful…!”

“I am being careful,” you promise as you keep your touch light. “I just need to make sure that you are able to service me, husband.”

“Always,” he chokes as you sit astride him.

“My cunt is hungry for your big cock, my love.”

“Oh, please… please… ahhh!” You sink down on him, your wet cunt splitting open but taking all of him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you exhale in a loud moan. Your eyes have closed involuntarily, and when you open them, you see Pero looking up at you with awe in his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers, and you bend down to kiss him.

“I love you, too.”

His hands splay over your lower abdomen. “And I love you.”

You kiss him again and start to move your hips. Your love life has been less frantic since you became pregnant, but it is not lacking in passion. Your slow, meticulous grind reflects that, and when Pero reaches for the oil bottle next to him on the bed, you sit up straight and let him rub the oil onto your skin.

“You are so beautiful,” he sighs as he circles his rough hand over your soft stomach. “And you will be even more beautiful when you start to show.”

“Will I”? you coax him, and he nods.

“I want you to ride me like this when you’re big and round, wife.” His voice drops, and the way it drips hot honey down your spine makes you clench. “I want you to take your pleasure from me likes this when you’re so big that you can hardly move, and your tits are leaking milk.”

“And if I can’t?” you breathe. His eyes are molten coal when he stares at you.

“Then I will help you.”

With that, he slides hand to where your bodies come together. His oiled fingers dance easily on your nub, and with his help, you ride him home, taking his load deep into your slick, warm cunt.

Your nausea does not bother you as much the following morning. Pero credits it to the tincture but you know that something has shifted in your relationship, become easier and more earnest.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

You squeeze Pero’s arm against your side. “It’s a little too late for that now.”

“I can still tell them – “

“They need you,” you remind him. “So many people depend on you.”

“You are the most important one of all of them,” he points out, stopping in the middle of the street and turning to you. His free hand, the one that’s not holding the reigns of the horse, comes to rest on your slightly rounded belly. “You, and the little one.”

“It’s only a week.” You cup his cheek, stroke your thumb over his lips. “It’s not a long time. You’ll make good money, and I promise that I’ll rest.”

He raises his brows, and you laugh at his skepticism.

“I promise!” you hold up your hand to your chest. “I promise, Pero, you know you can trust my word, right?”

“I know,” he nods, now smiling, before dipping down to kiss you softly. The horse snorts, and Pero ends the kiss with a quick peck on your lips, before you once again take his arm, and walk to the town square where the caravan is getting ready to leave. Pero was early on asked to provide security for it, and even though he was loathe to leave you for an entire week, both of you knew he would. Winter is on its way, trading will come to a stop, and he will be free to spend the rest of your time at home.

You nod at familiar faces when you reach the square, but soon have only eyes for Pero as he takes you in his arms. You expect admonition and reprobation, but only receive whispered assurances of his love for you.

“You will take care of yourself, won’t you?” he finally asks, when the caravan leader is announcing departure. You give him a naughty smile.

“Take care of myself how…?”

He grins back. “You know how. I left you the oil, and the memory of me.”

“My own fingers are nothing compared to you, my love.”

“As my hand is a meagre substitute for your warm, wet cunt,” he breathes against your ear. There is time for a hot yet subdued kiss, and a quick caress of your belly, before Pero has to mount his horse. He blows you a kiss and is off.

The week passes slowly and uneventfully. It rains a lot, which means you keep mostly indoors, and it makes you a little restless. The baby is restless as well; you feel it twitching and floundering almost every hour that you are awake. It is a comfort, knowing that you are not alone, but you still miss Pero.

It is late night when he returns. You are already in bed but the sounds of the wagons returning to the village draws you out of bed. You pull a shawl around your shoulders, but don’t get dressed, loath to leave the warmth of the house to go out into the late autumn chill. It does not take long before Pero rides into the yard, dismounting midstride when you come out onto the doorstep. He rushes to you, lips on yours before he’s even wrapped his arms around you. His lips are cold but his breath is warm, and his body fits to yours perfectly, shielding you from the cold.

“Are you well?” are his first words to you.

“We are both well, husband. How about you? How was the journey?”

“Uneventful. I am unharmed.”

He falls to his knees, hands tracing the roundness of your stomach through the nightgown before pressing a kiss to it.

“Hello, little one.”

You feel the baby move, and then a powerful jerk. Pero flinches, then looks up at you, mouth open.

“Was that…?”

“Yes,” you smile, hand coming to cup the top of his head. “That was our baby, my love, saying welcome home.”

“Was it really?”

You nod, your smile growing wider as you watch Pero stare at your clothed belly, hand circling it in search of another kick. A light breeze sweeps across the yard, and you shudder.

“Let’s go inside, husband.”

He has to put away the horse first, so you prepare a small supper while you wait for him to come in. When he finally does, he forgoes any food, instead taking you to bed. Balls deep in you and kissing your breath away, he tells you over and over again how much he loves you.

Winter slows down the entire village, although you feel slower than ever before with each passing week. Your belly grows, and with it your tiredness. Your feet hurt, your hips hurt, you back hurts, you feel clumsy, and you're hungry all the time. Pero takes all your griping in stride, helping you with your heavier chores that you finally relinquish to him. He rubs your belly and breasts with oil every night, and pleasures you with his mouth, fingers, and cock every time you ask for it – which varies from day to day. Some days you cannot have enough of him, others you can barely stand the thought of sleeping with him. Your patient husband takes no offense at your ever-changing mood.

You realize very soon that you have been incredibly lucky in your choice of husband – not that you didn’t know that before, of course. When going to the marketplace and meeting the village women, your growing belly gives you a new role in the group. The younger women titter, the older give advice or tell crude jokes that make you blush.

“Glowing skin, hazy eyes,” one comments one morning by the vegetable stand, “and him looking like the king of the world. Neither one of you goes wanting, that’s for sure.”

Your cheeks heat up. The comment is spoken without malice, and in a pleased tone, but it feels like the speaker had direct access to your bedroom that morning, seen you come apart on Pero’s cock, witnessed him fuck his cum deep inside you.

You mumble something, and the older woman chuckles.

“I’ve had five, and my husband serviced me with all five of them. A father’s seed will make the baby grow strong. Your child will be born big and healthy, I can see that.”

The baby moves in your belly, bringing a smile to your face. You look up at the woman, see her friendly face, and thank her, before slinking away and finding Pero at another stand. He takes the basket from you, offers you his arm, and you walk home together. As you put away your purchases in the kitchen, Pero breathes life back into the fire, and you sink down onto a chair with a sigh. He runs his gaze over you, a frown on his face.

“Are you okay, my love?”

“Just a little tired,” you promise as you rub your belly. The baby kicks against your hand before settling down, maybe to sleep. You look at your husband, crouching by he fire, and clear your throat.

“Pero?”

“Yes?”

“Do the men in the village talk about… pregnancy?”

He looks up at you again. “What do you mean?”

“The women – “

“Women talk a lot of rubbish,” he scoffs, and you grimace at his dismissal of your sex.

“Sorry,” he immediately apologizes, and you glare at him to let him know that he is only barely being let off the hook. “Tell me, my love, what do they say?”

“They talk about pregnancy, how the baby is carried, what sex it probably is, cravings, pains, aches… and intimacy. And I was wondering if men do the same.”

Pero directs his attention to the fire for a moment.

“They do speak of the pregnancy, but more of the children once they are born,” he tells you softly. “They speak of what it is to watch a child grow, how to provide for it, the way you worry about it all the time.”

“But nothing of the pregnancy?” you press, and he shoots you a teasing smile.

“A little, but only things I will not repeat to you.”

“Pero, I am no dainty little thing that you have to protect!” you roll your eyes, and Pero laughs before putting another log on the growing fire, then closing the hatch.

“I do know that, wife,” he acknowledges. Coming to his feet, he walks over to you, and sinks to his knees before you.

“I will tell you what they say,” he rumbles, his deep voice making your heart skip a beat. “Many of them speak of wives who become voracious when heavy with child.”

His hands, warm and large, rest softly on your knees, and start to carefully separate your thighs. You lick your lips quickly, leaving your mouth open as your breath turns heavier.

“They speak of wives who crave cock every single day.” Pero lifts your skirt up, leaning in to kiss the inside of your thigh. “They say that fucking a pregnant wife is the best feeling in the world.” He presses another bristly kiss to your sensitive skin. “To fill her already full womb even more…” Another kiss. “To have her sensitive cunt wrapped around your cock… how she mewls underneath you as you fuck your seed into her… it is heaven.”

He looks up at you, eyes dark, a smug smirk on his lips. “And they are right.”

“Pero,” you beg breathlessly, your cunt dripping from his words, your body ablaze for his touch.

“Come here, my love.”

He pulls you down on the floor, and you help him undo his trousers to get his cock out. Crouching astride him, feet firmly planted on the floor, you sink down his length, Pero supporting you with strong arms, even he can no longer reach around you. You ride him with impatience, one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his leg behind you, your lips on his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

“My love,” he gasps, “take what you need from me, use me, just like that, use my cock…”

You whine before baring your throat and hanging your head back, chest out, Pero dipping down to suck a leaking nipple into his mouth. You moan as your body is in spasms from the sweet release, and Pero plants a hand on the floor behind him, and thrusts up into you, grunting with effort as he seeks his own climax. You encourage him with moaned filthy words of your own, choked out as he slams into you, again and again, until he grips your buttock hard to keep you still on his cock, and you feel him fill up your core.

He lays down on the floor after, pulling you down next to him to give you a sweet kiss.

“My darling wife,” he sighs before kissing you again.

“My darling husband,” you smile, a satisfied shudder running through you as his seed oozes out between your swollen lips. “I am utterly disheveled. I won’t be able to show myself at the sewing circle later today.”

“Good,” he yawns, pulling you closer. “It is a husband’s duty to keep his wife disheveled with his love.”

“I cannot argue with that,” you giggle, and he kisses you yet again.

It starts in the early hours of the darkest winter morning. You wake up from a sharp pain, and before you’re properly awake, you realize that your nightgown is soaking wet. As you sit up to light a candle, another stab of pain makes you whimper, and you drop the fire striker. Pero stirs and reaches for you, only to be awake and sitting straight almost immediately.

“It has started,” you whisper. “I’m all wet. Pero, light a candle.”

He does as he’s told, and you throw the covers to the side, finding that your water has broken. No blood, as you secretly feared, but only water.

“I’ll get the midwife,” Pero tells you resolutely, but you can hear the worry in his voice. “My love, are you in very much pain?”

“Not too much,” you reassure him, getting out of the bed as he springs up to get dressed. You pull your shawl over your shoulders and start walking around, as the women of the village have told you to do. The pains come in sharp stabs, but they’re manageable.

Pero looks desolate to leave you, but you wave him off with a smile and a kiss.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just go get her.”

When the midwife arrives, she gives you a quick examination before shaking her head.

“Go back to bed,” she tells both of you. “It’s going to be another day or even two before it starts, so get all the rest you can.”

“Are you sure?” Pero demands in his most imposing voice. The midwife does not even blink as she collects her things.

“Make her as comfortable as you can.” She turns to you. “Rest but walk around every chance you get. And if something seems amiss, come get me again.”

She takes her leave, and Pero grumbles about the lack of sympathy. You, however, have heard a lot more about labor, so you just shake your head at him.

“Help me change the sheets, husband, and come to bed. You heard what she said.”

“You are in pain!”

“It’s not so bad anymore,” you tell him truthfully, and start to strip the wet sheets from the bed. Loath to have you do it by yourself, Pero comes to help you, giving him something else to think about. When you’re back in bed, embraced and sleepy yet too nervous to rest, he caresses the roundness of your belly.

“I can’t wait to meet our baby,” he whispers to you.

“I feel the same.”

“What are you hoping for? A boy or a girl?”

“I don’t care,” you yawn, “as long as it’s healthy. Any child that is half you is going to be perfect.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Late in the following night, the contractions change, become more intense and frequent. You send Pero to the midwife again, and this time she stays. You have prepared during the day so there are linens and boiled water to be had. Pero is dismissed from the bedchamber, and you see that he wants to fight the midwife on that decision, but you just shake your head at him, and he heeds your wish. But when the midwife tells you that you are crowning, that the baby is coming, and the contractions are sucking all the strength from your muscles, you scream for your husband. He nearly takes the door off its hinges as he barges in, all but brandishing the sword he has not touched since his last caravan. He takes your hand between his and kisses it.

“My love,” he breathes, “my strong, beautiful wife. You can do it, I know you can.”

Your baby is born with a few pushes, and the first scream that cuts through the night makes your tears fall.

“You have a son,” the midwife announces as she wraps up the baby and puts it on your chest.

“A son,” you repeat, not really understanding the words.

“I have a son,” Pero mumbles, his voice thick. You glance up at him, but he is only looking at the baby.

“Pero…”

“I have a son.”

Suddenly, he spurts out of the room, leaving you to stare after him, mouth agape. You hear the front door slam open, and then Pero bellowing into the night:

“I have a son!”

You chuckle, tears streaming down your cheeks, and when Pero returns, his eyes are shining as well.

“My love,” he whispers. “My love. My life. I love you so much.”

You can’t speak, this is all too much, you are exhausted and hurting and happy and sweaty and bursting with joy. As the midwife retires to the kitchen, Pero lays down next to you, cradling the baby in your arms.

“My son,” he whispers, his voice thick. “We have a son, my love.”

“We do.”

“I will always take care of him, and of you, this I promise you.”

“You already do, my love,” you smile, and Pero kisses first your forehead, then the baby’s.

[bluishfrog]

HAPPY 1-YEAR OF DRAWING ANNIVERSARY TO ME!

(Warning: slightly longer post incoming cause sometimes I gotta be a sentimental bitch ok? So let's go on a little trip down memory lane.)

This day, a year ago, I made my very first fanart. It was dnf (if that surprises you, then welcome to being on my blog for the very first time). I drew a little frog face too so I could use it as a watermark (fun fact: I still use that very same first one).

I immediately put my drawing up on twt because I told myself that I wasn't gonna be afraid of having people see that I was at the very beginning of this journey and had no clue what I was doing. That instead of being bad at art, I was gonna be awesome at being a beginner who doesn't know shit.

I started with little doodles and silly comics and then I laughed way too long when the first drawing of mine that gained some attention was a dnf butt joke. At the time I was trying to balance shipping and non-shipping art so I didn't even draw dnf that much but in hindsight it's probably the only possible way this could have gone.

At the very end of August I woke up to @honelle56 caps-locking at me in my messages - I was very confused and tired (I am no morning person and I will never be, fuck off with your mornings) because Dranart liked my drawing of singing Dream. Dranart was my 17th follower on twt which is a useless yet extremely funny fact about my time on that hellsite.

I also drew human!patches because a) patches was and will always be my favorite dteam member and b) it was a really cute trend and while I do love drawing dream, george and sapnap, I was also quite happy to try drawing anything but a white man for once. And I really liked how the drawing turned out.

Much, much later, I tried to draw my first slightly more realistic looking drawing. I was extremely confused on how to draw anything like this. Especially their hair gave me tons of trouble but given my experience, I think it's not a bad attempt.

When hijacked smp started I obviously wanted to participate, and I drew c!blu who doesn't associate with any side in particular but instead serves soup to everyone who visits her tavern 'The Soup House'. She also wants to be paid in stories from all around the map.

One of the events I was most excited about was dnf week. I even collaborated with two talented writers and I drew the corresponding art for two fics.

(Fun or not so fun fact: when twt had like three hundred collaborative aneurysms about the situation at that moment, that was when I created this tumblr account. I didn't use it super actively (I guess I needed another situation to fully make the switch) but I at least started the account that now developed quite a bit since then.)

I didn't really draw at all through January and February and I actually kinda thought I would move on from that hobby and fandom (not because of negative feelings, just because I didn't really have the urge to create anything within this fandom) and then situations happened and now I am here; and for some reason that is beyond any logic and my understanding I am now even more insane about dteam.

Wild to me but we are rolling with it now, I guess.

Since I got here, I drew more than ever (I actually think I might have made more drawings in the month since I got here than I made the whole rest of the year). There's just such an active and funny community here that cares about fan works for the sake of creating and not just because a CC might see it.

Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me add more than 10 images in one post (maybe fortunately for everyone who has this monstrosity of a post on their dash). So if you want to see all the progress I made since I got here, you can look at everything in my art tag. For now, I will close this post with one of the art works from the past month that I like the most:

Can't wait to see what the next year might bring :)

Love, blu

[rrxaiky]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

HSR: Dan Heng x GN! reader.

WARNINGS/ TAGS: Tooth rotting fluff, no beta [ 0.2K WC ]

── THINKING ABOUT DAN HENG SPEAKING CANTONESE/ 广东话 TO YOU.

A/N: Another writing exercise. Hello HSR fandom, I'm alive sdiewfgif Fun fact: Cantonese is my first language, I still struggle to read the words, same w Chinese which is my second so yes, I am indeed a disappointment to my Chinese ancestors.

HSR MASTERLIST

Bits of light seeped through the curtains in the room you were currently in. You opened your eyes slowly, finding yourself snuggled in Dan Heng’s embrace. His arms tightened around you when you started moving. Afraid that you’d accidentally wake him up, you decided to stay. It wouldn’t hurt if it was just a little while. You found yourself drifting off to sleep not long after. You knew you had to get up, but oh well… 

A hand stroking your hair stirred you awake. You looked at Dan Heng with sleepy eyes, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before using his thumb to caress your cheek, then softly saying, “早晨，寶貝。對唔住若果我唔小心嘈醒你。” (Good morning, treasure. Sorry if I accidentally woke you up.) You shook your head and buried your face into his neck. 

“Good morning…” you answered him. Dan Heng smiled before chuckling. “Something tells me you don’t want to get out of bed yet.” He moved your positions so that he was sitting up, his back against the comfortable pillows while you rested on his chest so that you’d be able to hear his heartbeat. “Would you like me to read to you?” he asked, grabbing a book from the bedside table while continuing to play with your hair.

RBs & follows appreciated <3

[skylie-spiderlillis]

1, 5, 7, 15 for the dbda ask game :)

Thank you so much for submitting these questions!

1. My favourite character

It's Charles. Yeah it's very obvious from my profile picture, I'm a Charles fan all the way.

The moment I met him in the show/ trailer I got possessed. I knew he was going to be my favourite character and I was right. Also I'm in love(/nsrs. Well, okay, maybe a bit, but mostly not!) with Jayden Revri. God the eyes of this boy. And his face. And his everything.

Yeah Charles is very much my favourite.

After him probably Edwin Crystal and Jenny, with no particular order. I can't decide.

I'm extremely obsessed with Edwin as well, although he is vastly different from my usual type of characters, because a fencer (in my heart, George also confirmed! And I relate to him on that) + he's not afraid to be bitchy and he's so iconic and so many others stuff that surprised me about him. I love him.

Also Crystal. My love. My girl. Complex female characters my beloved.

And Jenny is an icon. What else can I say?

5. Character I relate to the most.

Well, it's Charles. Sorry the answer is clear cut lol.

His situation with his parents reminds me of my own a lot (unfortunately). I relate to him on so many deep and emotional levels. Some of the episodes hit me strong. I thought 3 was going to be the peak where we get to see his trauma although it's not a lot, and then episode 4 hit me like a train. Episode 5 (especially the end) has my heart.

I relate to Charles on so many levels.

I also relate to Crystal a lot, her journey is relatable. I feel her.

She's just as messy and complicated as anyone else in there, I get her.

7. Favourite headcanon from the fandom

Demiromantic Charles! I talked about it before and also tagged the post I saw it in that explains it really well. I love this. I wish I saw more fanfics exploring this.

Also I wish I saw more gender queer Charles Rowland.

But mostly demi Charles. I can't think of any other hc I saw I really like yet.

15. My favourite line

There are many, many, hilarious lines I dearly love. But I am going to go with an angsty pick, I think the line that broke me the most was a line Charles said in episode 1 I didn't see anyone talking about I think holds a major part of his character- "you are the smart one, and I'm the one that does shit like this." It deeply hurt me.

Let's talk about it for a moment, shall we?

Because Charles is smart. Many times he finds the solutions to their cases, Edwin often praises him for his brilliant mind and George himself said in a cameo only people he thinks truly deserves it- a compliment from Edwin is the highest compliment ever.

Charles is smart.

But he sees himself as this reckless, foolish, charicaristic. This sentence comes from so much self hatred. When things get complicated we see him turn again into the aggressive image he has of himself. He sees himself as waste. He holds Edwin at the highest place ever in his eyes "you are the smart one, you are better than this, you are better than me, don't step to my level I'm trash you are so much more I will do it for you" and it just hurts me how much he throws himself away in the process.

Seeing this line again in a rewatch and realise it definitely was a stab to the chest, now that it's known how much he hates himself.

I wish we talked about episode 1 more, it's a great episode that sets out so many important stuff for the rest of the show. We just skip over it because so much happened so quickly but there are so much stuff we need to unpack there.

[shysublimecoffee]

I prefer not to sound harsh, but Miraculous has become a fandom where I find more enjoyment in reading fanfics than watching the show. It feels like there's a lack of effort or an attempt to justify and rearrange elements, often ignoring past seasons and assuming the audience won't notice. The handling of Derision is a notable example, with more astute critics than me delving into their dissatisfaction and the evident retcons.

I didn't anticipate the show going to such lengths as portraying Gabriel as someone deserving of a statue, and it left a sour taste in my mouth to see the hero endorsing it. Adrien/ChatNoir's portrayal has become quite pitiful, with a peculiar shift where Ladybug takes on a significant role in the Agreste Saga despite her absence from that narrative. Ladybug, who isn't even part of the Agreste Saga, is the one delivering heartfelt moments. The decision to sideline Adrien and put him out of commission is disappointing. It's his story yet she the one who has to make it about her. She gets to shine along with a cool costume to boot.

There's a palpable bias from Astruc against Chloe, evident in the show's treatment of her character. Despite her being manipulated by Gabriel Agreste, the narrative blames her for becoming mayor, and the absurdity of the situation is magnified when everyone in the story goes along with it. The inclusion of a scene in Revolution where Chloe is crying is perplexing and frustrating, as it seems to perpetuate the negative and irredeemable image the show consistently paints of her. The added layer of her mother being horrid to her intensifies my annoyance, especially when sympathetic scenes are presented in a seemingly contradictory manner.

I mean you want her to be the worst but yet she has scenes like this? Why not go all the way wtf. Why give her depth only to take it away and then make her be so demonized in s5 and act like she was like this from the start. When she's been a joke

I hate to be critical, but seriously, it's hard to ignore how the Miraculous universe is just dripping with untapped potential. Five seasons in, and the movie outshines the show effortlessly. It makes you wonder about the writers' team and their approach—seems like they're just coasting on low effort for profit, and somehow, it's working, thanks to Miraculous inexplicable popularity.

The show's been beating the monster-of-the-week horse for five long seasons, lacking any creativity in crafting interesting villains. Gabriel, honestly, feels like a starter villain, and if they're going to make him the big bad, can we at least get some villains with a bit more pizzazz? You know craft creative interesting villains? KNDS, Original PPG, Totally Spies they got it so why not Miraculous. It's so damn tiring seeing the same old song and dance with Gabriel 24/7 monologuing to his wife and releasing the akuma I thought Mayura would be important but she's barely there.

It's not even an excuse kids do deserve better entertainment so why should Miraculous lower its standards. Marinette is very weird to me as the protagonist because her lovelife is more focused over everything I gauged her well enough to know about her that the rest of the secondary needs more of a spotlight to be cast on them. I like her but am I the only one who just skips when she starts the whining about Adrien and her plan to again get together it was cute at first now I fast forward to the more interesting part of the episode because it irks me i'm tired okay... what other facet of her character do the writers focus on besides her love life? I hope I don't appear to salt on her but Imma tag it just in case. I think she's in neutral treading to dislike because how can I come back from her gaslighting her boyfriends I'm sorry I can't.

You know what I'm afraid of that if Lila gonna be the next big bad they'll just recycle everything from Gabriel onto her. We'll have the same akumatizations same monster of the week formula only this time it's Lila.

I trust more in the fanfic community to come up with a better substantial plot than Miraculous could ever be. I know romance is a big part but the lore is so damn little it's season 5 are they ever going to expand more in the later seasons lol.

I'm tired from writing this long. Imma go to bed now.

[anemptypuddingcup]

❤️🤍Mari’s Introduction & Blog Rules!❤️🤍

❤️Hello! My name is Mari but you can call me Pudding or Pudding Cup. I’m a dyslexic twenty year old writer and artist with Sickle Cell Anemia. I love writing and sharing my fics up here on tumblr for people to read and enjoy. I only write for one piece and rarely other fandoms JJK, JJBA now, though if you dig deep enough you’ll find my tokyo revengers phase as well.

Again, I only write for One Piece and occasionally other fandoms JJK JJBA.

🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️

❗️||Requests|| are closed for finishing one sentence shorts.

Finishing current event submissions:

-One sentence shorts submissions.

Let me know if you want it non-con or not!

Check out my rules a bit farther down to see my exceptions. I only write one request at a time so I’ll get to yours as soon as I can. Feel free to choose any prompt and (one piece) character, I’m fully open to your ideas. They can be smut, fluff, angst or whatever you’d like!

I mainly write insanely detailed smut and fluff fics. If I’m free forming I usually go through a cycle though the main characters I write for are Monkey D. Luffy and Trafalgar D. Water Law. I’m not afraid of switching up characters from time to time.

I usually write for female reader since I, myself am a female. If requested, I will write for gender neutral reader…but I sadly don’t write for male since I’m not male. I may accept all genders in the future when I get better with the writing but until then,

Female only! Non-binary if requested.

❗️Check out my favorite imagines & fics i’ve written so far!

Amidst The Shoreline. Luffy Smut.

Stay Occupied. Trafalgar Smut.

I sadly won’t make a general masterlist though I’ve made a series master list for all the series I’ve created so far!

||Series Masterlist||

If you tap a tag on which character you enjoy from my writings, you’ll find all of the fics I’ve written for that character so far. Apologies for my laziness and how unorganized I am.

❗️Working on my Dream Demon Series & Wishes Aren’t Real Zoro Series!

Dream Demon Anatomy!

Wishes Aren’t Real. Zoro Series.

‼️Special 2k fic coming soon!

❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

‼️ Things I won’t or can’t tolerate in my fics due to the reader’s safety-

-🚫Scat or Piss

-🚫Pedophilia

-🚫Guro or gore

-🚫Incest or Step-cest. I do write for siblings sharing one person though.

-🚫you know the rest, the usual stuff other writers don’t like either.

‼️I allow non-con and dark themes! Please be careful if you aren’t comfortable with these topics.

🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️

🚫Minors or ageless blogs are not allowed here! Though I cannot stop you from reading my fics, please don’t interact if you’re under eighteen. There’s adult content that only adults can read.

Please keep in mind that I want everyone to feel comfy and safe here on my blog, I love all of my followers dearly so I hope you’re all comfy here. (Including non-followers who love my works too!)

Thank you for reading, please enjoy your stay here in my sweet and sugary hell.

Let’s fill that pudding cup of yours~

❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

[chocogi]

i am

slowly trying to get used to writing again

and unlike my moots who went from genshin to either hi3 or twst i kinda fucked off into the call of duty fanbase

Simon Riley/gn!reader — a tribute to the king of this fandom lmao

A ghost of a Ghost

You were told that your husband died. But then who is the man who showed up at your doorstep?

note; intented to be completely gender neutral, so if you see something suggesting otherwise, please tell me! aside from that, simon calls you love, luvie, and Junebug

The doorbell rings, snapping you out of your reverie, and you curse as you realize you've overmixed the macarons again.

With a sigh, you drop the mixing bowl onto the marble countertop, and wince when the drop produces a loud clang, far louded than you anticipated. Cracking your knuckles, you prepare yourself and walk over to the door.

Absently, you wonder who it is. Maybe it's the cute guy from work, but with how sweet and overbearing the man was, you're sure he wouldn't drop by without telling you. Maybe the shy baker down the block came by to help you with these godforsaken macarons.

A peek outside and you slam the door out of impulse.

Where is that gun.

Simon worries his lip, dropping his duffel bag beside him. "Love?" Thudding footsteps running away from the door are all he hears from you.

Another knock, and when no one answers Simon gently unlocks the door. "Luvie? What's wrong?"

He was expecting a warm welcome, like before he joined the taskforce, before Roba and the Mexican Cartel. You jumping onto him for a hug, a small Welcome Back meal with tea as he catches up with your life. Like you two always do. Did he do something wrong?

The door creaks, and Simon ducks to walk inside. The cock of a gun has him freezing, warm gaze hardening into a stone cold glare as his hand ghosts over his pistol's holster.

He falters. You're holding a 12-gauge shotgun, cocked and aimed at his head. He tries to take a step closer. "Love. Put the gun down."

"Who are you?" you snarl, fear hidden under anger in your eyes as your finger rests over the trigger. He is dead. A ghost. You were at the funeral. He is right in front of you.

No. Another one of your demons.

Oblivious to your dilemma, your cat trots over, sniffing and pawing curiously at Simon's pant leg. Simon slowly raises his hand to his mask and your gaze hardens further, adding pressure over the trigger. He freezes.

"Junebug, please. Put the gun down and tell me what's wrong." A hint of pleading seeps into his voice while he stares you down. The familiar nickname pulls your lips into a snarl.

"Don't fucking call me that. Who are you?" you demand, grip over the shotgun wavering for a moment. He sounds just like your husband, but the dog tags around your neck tell a different story than what this man protrays.

Slowly, he lifts a hand to his balaclava, and pulls it off. You freeze. The shotgun lowers.

"No." You back up. "No, this isn't real. I.."

Simon's eyes soften, confused but worried for his spouse's state. "Junebug," he tries, taking a step closer. You take a step back in response. "Come here, please?"

Tears blur disbelieving eyes and your hands shake. The shotgun clatters noisily on the hardwood floor. "You're not real," you mumble. You wobble on your legs, only managing a few steps back before sliding down onto the floor. "You.. you died."

"I'm right here, Junebug." He crouches low, right in front of you and your tears slide down smooth cheeks. "Do you want to check my pulse?"

"I buried you," you insist, "I have your dog tags, they held a ceremony and everything, I–" You choke on a sob, a thick lump blocking your throat. Your sight blurs with tears and you're almost afraid to touch him, afraid that your hand will phase through him like in the worst of nights and he'll disappear right in front of you again.

"Casket's empty, love. They didn't find a body, else I wouldn't be here," Simon chuckles, mirthlessly. He offers his wrist again. "Would you like to check my pulse?"

Shaky hands reach over for his wrist, weakly gripping onto scratchy fabric. You press your index and middle fingers onto his wrist and sob harder when you focus onto a clear, steady heartbeat, accompanied with a warmth you've missed for so long.

Rolling his sleeve a little higher, you spot a tattoo on his skin, a band around his wrist that matched the ink on your own.

"Simon?"

"Right here, Junebug."

You grip his hand weakly, shuffling his glove off and intertwining your fingers with his. His hand completely dwarfs yours, and old, tarnished wedding bands clink quietly against each other.

Simon's other hand reaches up to your face, gently wiping away fat tears as you try to calm down, stuttering over hiccups and stilted breaths. "You won't leave soon?"

He pulls you closer, tucking you under his chin and wrapping his arms around you. "'Course not. I'll be here whenever you need me, Junebug."

endnote; thank you for reading! criticism is always welcome and i hope the practise didnt feel too rushed. I will be separating this from my old masterlist just to feel kinda like a fresh new start.

[cloudcountry]

thank you to the three people that tagged me in the twst author spotlight ^^ irene, siren, and sapphy, thank you. i read what you said about me and i was very touched. i didnt think i would gain so many friends in such a short period of time, and you all deserve to be recognized for your contributions to the twst community!! :D

EVERYONE LOOK AT MY FRIENDS.

@tinyletterz, who has a beautiful soul and amazing writing. i've known her since my baby days on quotev writing for a fandom which shall not be named, and it's so such a pleasure being her friend. she writes twst x reader content and has a gorgeous series about flower languages that i think about a lot. thank you remy for helping me get accustomed to tumblr, you're the og!!

@shkrmpp, who was my first mutual that i'd never met before here. thank you for asking about jellyfish and being such a bubbly presence on my dash. shrimpy writes x reader content and creates adorable art!! their hair dye series with the leech twins is super cute and i find myself thinking about teh floyd part in particular very often ^^

@fukashiin, with the prettiest themes and the gorgeous art style. winou CONSISTENTLY writes absolute bangers that make me so giddy. this one in particular is one of my favorites, and her writing style reminds me of a soft summer breeze. she's such a bubbly person and its so fun talking to her, even if we don't talk often. ^^ she's one of the three people that keeps my deuce content afloat.

one could say many things about the beloved @hisui-dreamer!! from the way she adores her friends to teh way she writes, rinna is always soft and sweet. she radiates comfort and is such a soothing person, i feel so safe around her. she writes x reader content and every single piece is its own masterpiece. she's one of my closest friends on here and i wish nothing but the best for her every day.

@merotwst, who has a bucnh of adorable oc content (on @meromessy !!) and writes x readers!! ellie in on haitus right now takinga well deserved break. <3 but she writing is amazing and i am FLOORED whenever i see her art!!! it's literally so gorgeous and i don't understand how she does it. its crazy. how is so much talent in one person.

@siren-serenity is not only a lovely author of x reader content, but also a lovely friend. ^^ siren also has an oc named melody who is so cool!!!! she was the pastor at my wedding and fought TOOTH AND NAIL for that position LMAO love u renren!!! she really writes azul SUPER WELL and im so happy to have met someone so calm and soothing to talk to.

@officialdaydreamer00, aka nutmeg, is a rascal. an absolutely rascal but they're really the best. they have a yuusona with LORE and a bunch of really creative & cute events!! seriously nutmeg, nobody does it like you. if you want to see our favorite twst boys in strawberry dresses or recieve a pair of cute earrings, irene's blog is the place for you!!!

@the-v-lociraptor has STELLAR art. she was one of my firts mutuals on twst tumblr and i was terrified of talking to people but her vibes were very much "i am nice you dont need to be afraid" and sniffling scared me was like "OKAY I CAN TALK TO YOU" LMAO but yeah. she draws people so,,, full. thats the only word i can use to describe it. they just look s soft and alive and its really so amazing. i love her art so much!!

@siphoklansan is another artist!! i think about the art she drew from loona's heart attack with twst character weekly basically. it has been stuck in my brain since i started following her. sippy, its trully beautiful how you mix your culture and your art together. i remember you talking about it when you were drawing fairy gala stuff and it was just stunning. please keep doing what you're doing!! i hope your hiatus proves restful <3

@ceruleancattail is one of THE most creative writers i have ever met on this platform. every time i check out their account theyre talking about a new au or doing something different. they write x reader stuff and ar ethe biggest cater kisser ever (even if they wont admit it hehe!!) their writing is so refreshing, if that makes sense. their butler au is so goofy whaahwwahwah

@moonlit-midnight has the prettiest writing style :((( hannah is literally so sweet and it shows in everything you can find on this blog. THIS BLOG HAS PLATONIC FICS TOO!!!! DID YOU KNOW THAT?????? and even better, they're inspired by hannah's own friendships :((( literally the most wholesome thing. you can find x reader's here!!!

@iseethatimicy is an x reader writer and fellow azul kisser!!! she writes some really cute stuff for oour favorite silly little cephalopod AND AND AND AND HAS SOME OCS!!! THATA ARE SUPER COOL!!!!! shimiko and icy are both so cool and interesting 9EVEN THOUGH IM VERY SHIMIKO BIASED AAAAA I LOEV SIREN TROPES !!!!!)

@ryker-writes IS SO KIND. he gave me the sweetest set of flowers for his garden event :(( i still think about them and aaaaa i havent forgotten when he fought me over me being cool LMAO so goofy wahhwaawh!! HIS OC JAXON AND RIDDLE ARE LITERALLY SO CUTE :((( he writes x reader content & makes oc content!!!

@totallymem3 draws occasionally and omgggg meme's art is gorgeous. HAVE YOU SEEN HER DRAW AZUL. her art is so soft and its honestly adorable :(( meme is such a nice mutual too!!! like i met her on anon a while ago we've been besties ever since fr. HER ART REMINDS ME OF SPRING GO CHECK IT OUT PLEASE!!!!!

@z3llous is SO TALENTED!!!! another mutual that im liek WOW how do you exist??? he creates the most stunning twst fanart :((( THE OCTAVINELLE BIAS IIS SO REAL AND SO SO OBVIOUS BUT WOW.....WOW IS IT GOOD. zell is also a game developer and if you like cute little kitties and adventure games you should totally try it out here!!!

@cecilebutcher MAKES THE BEST OCS. creator of igor and saver of the universe. im not kidding igor saved the universe IDC WHAT YOU SAY ITS CANON TO ME. cece i sliterally the sweetest and soososososo creative i am eating up every crumb of igor content i get fed. OM NOM NOM. ofc junto is nice too and hes so sweet!!! GAHH you just put so much love and care into yoru ocs its so admirable :((((

@ang33333333l is another azul kisser that i became mutuals with a while ago!!! dolls love for sebek and azul is very sweet to see and her yuusona fauna is adorable too!! she also draws her yuu and characters sometimes!! :D she doesn't have a lot of oc content up on dolls blog yet but im looking forward to seeing more!! >:D

@leonistic deserves the most underrated writer of the year award. soru writes x reader content and is another super sweet mutual of mien (I KNOW IM SAYING THAT A LOT OKAY.) she writes aroace content and its literally feeds me. seriously. their aroace azul content makes me giggle and kick my feet and GAHHHHH !!! plus they have the patient to do matchups which is crazy and i love them for that ^^

@rains-asleep is the nickname master because he calls me straubs and thats such an adorable nickname :(((( HIS WRITING IS SUPER CUTE AND IT GIVE SME SO MUCH SEROTONIN (they write x readers btw!!!!!) they recently hit 500 followers (CONGRATS AGAIN!!!!!) and they also write for haikyuu, mha, genshin impact, and obey me!!!

@shinysparklesapphires is an artists that has a lot of cool ocs!! i believe navi was the first one i was introduced to and he's such an icon ^^ sapphy is also really into precure and produces a lot of content for the fandom!! i have yet to finish the precure series she recommended to me but its good so far and laura is the best so true!!

@datboredpencil has THE most STUNNING art. if you want idia x cater content this is DEFINITELY THE BLOG FOR YOU!!! each piece has so much love poured into it and i swear. YOURE ALWAYS LIEK "its a work in progress" BUT IT STILL LOTS SO LOVELY :((( YOUR USE OF COLOR IS JUST SO MUAH!!! CHEFS KISS!!!!!!! I ADORE IT

@twistwonderlanddevotee makes really pretty backgrounds!!! i actually used the isaac one she made for my private account AND ITS SO CUTE I LOVE IT I WANT TO EAT IT SWALLOW IT WHOLE MUNCH ON IT SHAKE IT AROUND LIEK A DOG TOY ANYWAYS. i am very normal about sofia's backgrounds. PLEASE GO CHECK THEM OUT its literally so unique?? like who else makes backgroudns liek sofia. Nobody.

@queen-shiba has an open inbox everyone!! you're welcome to send in requests!!! ^^ the queen of savanaclaw makes oc content for chuki, a really sweet kid taht deserves all the cookies in teh world :((( ALSO!!! she has an au for the tsavo man-eaters which is super cool!!! :O she passion for lions and tigers really is admirable and its nic eto see her talk about them :3

@beeirdos-buzzing-bogaloo has a gift when it comes to making ocs!! thule remains my favorite of the ones he has talked about because his design is just so neat!!! I LOVE THAT HIS NICKNAME FROM ROOK IS "MONSIEUR STARGAZER" :((( you have so many ocs that i havent even heard about yet...so im super curious to see what else you put out!!!

@dove-da-birb IS SUCH A GENIUS. they're one of my closests friends and their writing is SO BEAUTIFUL. they're also kidn of a little shit though so watch out /aff tehy write x reader content and draw sometimes, although i dont think theyve posted any of them. ^^ dove is SUCH a delight i promise you'll have fun every single time you talk to them. their energy is infectious and im genuinely really glad im the main target for their chaos. i would not have it any otehr way.

@ashipiko has such delicious art!!! the colors are always so vibrant and the way she draws is so unique. truly, a staple of both the twisted wonderland and as3! fandoms!! her energy is always upbeat and cheery, its hard not to smile when youre talking to her!! truly the biggest ace kisser on thsi platform (probably in the world too hehe)

@shyhaya writes for a myriad of fandoms!!!!!! hayami writes an azul thing for me that made me lose my mind IT WAS SO GOOD. PLEASE check out this blog. you wont regret it. requests are open!! ^^ even twst content aside, im sure you'll find something you like sich haya writes for so many fandoms!! talk about multitalented :3

@thehollowwriter has so many gems. quinn writes every character in twst so well, teh writing is so immersive and just ughhhh MUAH!!!!! every piece with azul in it is such a banger and it makes me giggle and kick my feet :3 LITERALLY THERE IS SO MUCH X READER FLUFF AND ITS ALL GOOD ITS A CRIME I DIDNT FIND THIS BLOG SOONER.

@cyath, who has some of the PRETTIEST art i have EVER seen. they draw stuff based on my fics all of the time and i adore it so much. examples of their art can be found here, here, here, and here. do you understand what i mean. do you get it. their art style is SUPERIOR and i ADORE IT!!!!!! they truly have so much talent like damn save some for the rest of us hello!!!!!

@crheativity writes twst x readers!! she's a beginner writer so PLEASE PELASE SHOW HER SOME LOVE!!! right nwo she has some heartslabyul content that i havent gotten around to reading yet but i am SUPER excited to go through them when i get the chance!!! rhea is super fun to talk to hehe <3

and lastly, @jade-s-nymph who organized this whole thing!!! rubia is on hiatus right now but i've seen some of her projects and a few of the things she's written and they're all really good!! there's a lot of x reader content on her writing blog and self indulgent nymphleech content on her personal blog :3

[deepspacedukat]

Hey DSD!

Nonny here, do have a list of any writers you would recommend and maybe even one or two of their fics?

Would love some more reading material and thank you so much if you do end up sharing with me.

Hi Nonny! Absolutely, I do! There are a ton of amazing writers, both here and on AO3, especially for Star Trek since it's such a long-standing fandom. I will absolutely list some of my favorites, but please do not be afraid to explore the tags both on AO3 and here on tumblr, because there are a ton of amazing writers that I haven't encountered yet, and I'm probably leaving some out unintentionally. (I'm so sorry! My memory is like that of a gnat at times!)

Also, on my pinned welcome post under the "Keep Reading" there's a link you can click that will (hopefully) take you to all the posts I've tagged on here as fic recs! So feel free to take a look at that too!

I highly recommend any/all stories by the following authors, and beneath their names I'll list 2-3 of my favorite stories from each:

@creature-of-the-stars - on AO3 here as ToeBeansMcGee

"Weeds Among Stones" <- this is ongoing and brilliant and amazing and i love it 🥰

"Oh, Don't Mind Us" <- this is a oneshot sequel to another favorite called "Be Still" which is a multi-chapter that I adore 🫶

"Keep Your Enemies Closer"; the sequel "Rekkhai"; and the follow-up "Beyond Fortunate" <- just pure perfection *chef's kiss* 🤌

@bigblissandlove1 - on AO3 here as bigblissandlove

"The Raptor's Descent" <- many chapters and it gave us S'Talon and just utterly delicious 😍

"The Assignment" <- a gorgeous oneshot that gave me emotions 😭💖

"Surrender To Me" <- a long oneshot that made me fall in love with a side character 💚

@horta-in-charge - on AO3 here as Horta-In-Charge

"X Minus 1" <- it hab sad, wet-eyed Weyoun, I mean, what more could you want??? 👀💜

"Broken Covenant" <- cannot words enough to praise this sufficiently, so just go read it 🧡

"Fantasy" <- the emotions omfg THE EMOTIONS 😭💖

@starrynightgardens - on AO3 here as jaylens_twin

"Proposition" <- this fic and it's epilogue are gorgeous and I have read it so many times 🫶

"Things Unseen" <- this is an amazing multi-chapter fic and there are so many emotions 💚

"Regenesis" <- I...there are no words, this is so amazing 💜

@leopardcoffee - on AO3 here as Leopardcoffee

"Ashayam, I despise you" <- beautiful, chef's kiss, excellent! 💙

"Maroon" <- it's a wip and a damn good wip 🥰

"On Pause" &lt;- the angst omfg 😭❤️

@crowfootwrites - on AO3 here as CrowfootWrites

"Devotion & Diplomacy" <- as far as I know, this is the first Star Trek fic they've written, and it's an absolutely gorgeous wip 💖

@stay-neurotic - on AO3 here as stayneurotic

"A Prisoner's Needs" <- how do I even words about this??? 🥵💜

The entire "Keevan and the Spy" series <- read the tags before you start; this scratches a very specific itch ❤️

The entire "A Hostage Situation" series <- read the tags before you start; this also scratches a very specific itch 💖

@maybeamultiverse - on AO3 as maybeamultiverse

"A Matter of Security" <- it has young Vreenak, so how could I not adore it??? 💚

"The Vulcan's Limerence" <- Solok/Sisko!!!!! 💙

"War Birds" <- this is honestly such a well-written Letant fic. ngl, the whole fic is fabulous, but the first three chapters live rent-free in my brain and they always will 🥵

@emilie786 - on AO3 as Emilie_786

The entire "Discs" series <- apparently I'm v behind in this series, but I've read the majority of it and I am SO IN LOVE WITH HOW THEY WRITE SHRAN 💙

"Paranoid" <- this is...how do I even describe how much I love this fic??? 🫶

"The Hug" <- god, this is just SO CUTE 🥺

@foreverforty2 - on AO3 as forever_42

"His Eyes Speak" <- read the tags for this one; honestly such an amazing fic! 👀 (have I even talked about this fic here?? if I haven't, then I've been very remiss!) to be completely transparent, I haven't read any of their other works, because (I believe) most of the rest are Star Wars centered, and I don't know pretty much anything about Star Wars.

@indignantlemur - on AO3 as IndignantLemur

"Emigre" <- obviously this is on there. a fabulous fic, excellent, wonderful, stupendous, glorious! if you like Andorians, this is the fic for you! 💙

"The Stars Keep Watch" <- badass Andorian from SNW my beloved 🥰

@sleepycat82 - on AO3 as MeowMeowPowPow

"Grace Under Pressure" <- a gorgeous Letant/Reader/Vreenak fic that deserve a ton of love 💜

"Emergency Surgery" <- istfg one of the few good things to come from PIC is Krinn, and I'm so excited to see where this wip takes his character 👀

"The Wager" <- I literally just saw that this existed and I'm about to go start it. 💚

@ericbogosbian - on AO3 as Vorta_Scholar

"Testing the Effects" <- yes i'm outing myself as a Data smut enjoyer, but this...it's good Data smut 💛

Any of their Sito Jaxa/Vorik works 🫶

"Reprieve" <- omfg this is some good smut that i honestly didn't know I needed til I found it!! 💜

@attention-bajoranworkers - on AO3 as beyond_antares

"Just this once (and then once again)" <- this is a gorgeous wip and it will continue to be gorgeous. Dukat smut, my beloved 💖

"Moments" <- such sweet Malcolm fluff 💙

@schn-tgai-scripted - on AO3 as SchntgaiScripted

"A Good Vulcan Husband" <- this fic has made SUCH A MESS OF ME (in a good way, obviously) 💚

"See A Need" <- this was the first Vorik fic I ever read and I will always recommend it. it has some smut, some feels...i love it 💛

"A Bad Vulcan Prophet" <- read the tags; I...I don't even...I just love it 🖤

@brokenblade-legendarycreature - on AO3 as BrokenBlade

"Exceptional Airs and Dances" <- MORE WIIIINEEE 🍷

"Make It Harder" <- I feel no shame for the copious amount of times I've read this particular Dukat smut 💖

"Spa Service (Relief)" <- I just...yep. 💜

@love-at-first-contact - on AO3 as Graphite_crumble

The entire "Gwemmer" series <- Hemmer and an OC being adorable af. what more could you want??? 🤍

The entire "Vorik and Juna" series <- this pair is just utterly precious. I love them 💛

"Together" <- Vorik/Reader/Taurik fic...omfg I just...I have so many feelings about this 👀

@shibonoku - on AO3 as Shibonoku

Literally any of their Vorik fics. they're just absolutely fabulous 💖

Also, any of their Solok fics 💙

itsthemirrorforme on AO3 (no idea if they have a tumblr tbh)

literally all of them. read the tags first, of course, but all of them!! 💜

WikkityTweak on AO3 (no idea if they have a tumblr)

"Holosuite Number 3" <- This is THE FIC that made me fall in love with Senator Letant 💚 the author mentioned a potential sequel, but they haven't updated since 2016, so...for now i'll simply savor this fic's existence.

"True Weakness" <- this is an awesome Solok fic 🖤

@eyes-of-the-fox - on AO3 as dhiamn_aehallhh

"Small Tales" <- these are gorgeous stories; the Soval/Forrest ones are my favorite 💙

Honestly, all of their Maxwell Forrest/Soval fics are gorgeous 🫶

@the-stags-cave - on AO3 as StagofRomulus - alternately find vem on Quotev here as Stag of Romulus

"Ahr'ehraet Hru'rhaarhno: Season 1" <- half Romulan McCoy!!!!!!! Also McCoy/Spock SCREEEEE 💜

Admittedly I haven't read all of ver works, but vey are such a great writer, I can't help but recommend literally all of those stories!!

[dira333]

Follower Celebration 300

My blog has grown a lot over the last few months. Thank you for every new face, every kind comment, every like and reblog. I read every tag, adore every comment and get excited when I see someone's face pop up again and again in my activities list.

I am aware that I haven't written all the requests from my last celebration yet, but 300 Followers is a big number and I wanted to do something to celebrate it.

The Celebration:

I'll open 5 slots for every fandom. It's not first come first serve, but rather I'll try and focus on some of the lesser-mentioned characters. (So to my Mr. Compress anon, please dare to request again!)

You can send in as many requests as you like, anon or not anon. I don't write NSFW. I usually write female reader. And I mostly write fluff, or Angst with a fluffy ending.

If your request seemingly didn't make the pick but you really want to read it, don't be afraid to message me about it.

You can choose prompts on this list, or you can send in an entirely new prompt like a song you love or a trope you'd like to see.

You can send in just the name of the character and let me figure out the rest

BIG HINT: My writing is always better when I have something to go off of for the reader's character. I have written deaf readers, readers with chronic pain, a reader who struggled with alcoholism...

Time frame: This isn't too serious but I'd say it's open till the 21st of January. Late entries will still be considered.

I'll write for the following fandoms:

Please request away, don't feel shy. If you don't want to request, please reblog it so others get a chance.

Thank you.

tagging: @shoulmate @revasserium @alienaiver @misfit-megumi @fuzztacular @missalienqueen @notsochillnerd @snuggleboots @bookishgalaxies @just-done-with-things @chelseaquake + the friendly Mr. Compress Anon

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Ten

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.3k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @legolasbadass @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Nina shared up at him with green eyes gone almost perfect round as she said, “I—I’m afraid I know not what you mean.”

“It took me a bit to figure it out,” he went on, “but you were there. That night my Company and I attempted to break into the armory and were caught. You were in the crowd, near the front, not far from where Bilbo stood.”

“No, I—I’ve never been to Esgaroth and I’m afraid I’ve no inkling as to who Bilbo even is.”

“Of course you don’t, for he was with me. But, I remember you, Miss Nina. You and another woman who bore a strong resemblance to you. You stood out, both of you, because of your hair.” 

As he spoke, he reached out to catch one of Nina’s wild corkscrew curl between his fingers. He couldn’t help it. He’d never seen hair that deep, almost burgundy color before and since she first joined them, he tried to remember where he’d seen it before. It wasn't until he came into her chambers and saw it loose about her face that the memory of a beautiful red-haired woman in the snow leaped to the forefront of his mind, for that was just how she looked that night. Her hair a wild tangle about her face, about her shoulders, with snowflakes dotting it like seed pearls. 

She shook her head. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

“No.” He let the curl slip through his fingers. It was soft, almost silken, and he had the maddest urge to gather it in his hands. “It was you.”

“Your Highness, I—”

“I know it was you, Nina. Tell me, what became of the woman who was with you? Who was she and what she to you?”

“She was my sister. She…” Nina’s eyes shone with tears as she met his gaze and his heart sank as she finished with a whispered, “she died in the inferno. I found her on the opposite shore the next morning and please do not make me tell you more about it.”

“I am so sorry,” he murmured back. “I did not mean for the dragon to take his anger out on your people. That was never my intention. It was the last thing I would have wanted.”

She pressed her lips together as her eyes overflowed, tears streaking over the curve of her cheeks. Without thinking, he brushed his thumbs along her cheeks, sweeping the tears from them. “Forgive me,” he whispered, cupping her face in his palms, tilting it toward his. “I know that means nothing, that my words are worthless, but I am so very sorry my actions led to the death of people you loved.”

Her lips trembled and she leaned into him, her head coming to rest against his chest as she dissolved into tears. He wrapped his arms about her, tucked her close against him and let her cry, his rough-hewn henley growing damp against his chest. 

Finally, she went still against him and when she lifted her head, her eyes were red and puffy. “I beg your pardon,” she whispered, swiping at her nose with the back of her hand. “I didn't mean to blubber all over a king.”

“Worry not about it,” he told her. “It is the least I deserve.”

“I just…” She drew in a deep, if somewhat shaky breath, and then offered up a sad smile. “It’s been a while since I allowed myself to think of Lenna. She was my dearest friend in the world and I miss her. So very much.”

“If I could go back and do that night over,” he told her, sweeping his thumbs along the remnants of tears still streaking her skin, “I would do things so very differently. And in the aftermath, I’d have honored my word without question.”

This time, when he met her gaze, he felt the oddest thing. It was almost as if the air were suddenly charged, as it felt before a lightning storm. But he heard no rumble of thunder and as the leaves shifted above their heads, it was to show a clear night, the black sky spangled with thousands of stars glinting like gemstones against a bed of black velvet. 

Her eyes were bright, brilliant emerald beneath their silvery veil of tears, but they drew him in just the same, and in a way he’d never felt before. That crackle in the air grew stronger and then he realized what it was.

He wanted to kiss her. 

He remembered seeing her that night in Esgaroth. Her hair caught his eye, that deep, glossy burgundy color and wild about her face, as it was now. He could not hear her, but he saw her look at the woman beside her, her sister Lenna as he now knew, and when she smiled, he’d swear he actually felt his blood grow warmer. That smile, so pure and raw in its joy, did something to him and he made a promise to himself that he would find out who she was and when he rid the world of Smaug and returned to honor his word, he would make certain someone introduced him to her.

Of course, that wasn't how things worked out. 

But now he had a second chance and he would not make the same mistake. 

His thumbs went still against her soft skin. Her lips, full and no longer trembling, were more inviting than any he’d ever seen before. And when the tip of her tongue flicked out against her bottom lip, he almost sighed with the sensuality of it. 

She held his gaze easily, and as he leaned toward her, she lifted those full, inviting lips in anticipation of their first kiss.

“Thorin, are ye in there?”

Dwalin’s voice broke them apart, had him leaping backward as if touching her stung him. Gathering his wits about him, Thorin cleared his throat. “We are, yes. Come in.”

The door swung open and Dwalin said, “I thought we were going to supper?”

“We are.” Thorin glanced over at Nina. “I just came to fetch Miss Nina.”

Dwalin arched a single brow. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” Thorin told him as he caught Nina by the elbow before she had the chance to refuse to join them. “Shall we?”

Fortunately, she did not speak up about not wanting anything to eat, and with any luck, no one would notice the hint of color along her sharply angled cheekbones, or that he’d probably not be able to stop staring at her. 

All through supper, Nina felt Thorin’s gaze on her. Actually felt it. Although she’d heard people say this, she’d never experienced it for herself until now. 

And if that wasn't enough, her doubts about her plan had grown tenfold since he stepped out onto her terrace.

He was going to kiss her. And what was worse?

She was going to let him.

What was wrong with her? How could she capitulate so easily? 

Because he apologized. 

And he meant it. She saw the agony he carried in his eyes, heard it in the softness of his deep, almost growly voice, felt it when he’d wrapped her in his arms. He wanted to take her pain from her and for a moment, his embrace had done just that. 

She had heard of dragon sickness, as whenever talk of the Lonely Mountain circulated through town, accompanying it was the speculation that the King Under the Mountain had succumbed to it for a time. No one ever came out from it though. Or at least, that was what everyone said.

Yet, he had.

He sat beside her at the long table they shared with Thranduíl and his son Legolas. From the corner of her eye, she saw him lean toward Thranduíl, who sat, of course, at the head, as they chatted. Dwalin across from them, alongside Legolas and while he on joined in Thorin’s conversation with the elf king from time to time, he mostly spoke with the younger elf.

Nina, who knew none of them, remained quiet, concentrating on the delicious supper of venison and root vegetables in a spicy sauce. It was the most food she’d seen in her life, even more than had been presented at Rivendell. 

She was in a quandary now. For so long, she’d thought of nothing but revenge on Thorin Oakenshield. She’d planned her life around it. She'd longed for the day when she took him out of the world and got paid a pretty penny to do so.

This was a twist she had not seen coming, and it left her at a loss.

The Thorin she had imagined was far different from the one she was coming to know. That Thorin was a monster in dwarf form. 

This Thorin was anything but.

Conversation floated around her, yet their hosts paid her no mind. They didn't know her, of course, where they’d had dealings with the dwarves before and of course, Thorin and Thranduíl shared the bond of kingship, although their relationship seemed formal at best. 

“So, how did you come to be in the company of dwarves?”

This came from across the table, from an elegant she-elf with red hair several shades brighter than Nina’s own. Tauriel, she thought her name was. She seemed to know Thorin and Dwalin already, judging by the warm greeting they’d each given the other when they first arrived in the open air dining room.

“Me? I simply happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

“She leapt between me and an arrow,” Thorin broke in, setting his fork down to lift his napkin to his lips. 

“Leapt between you and an arrow?” Tauriel’s dark eyes widened. “Where did this happen?”

“On the road to Rivendell,” Thorin explained. “An orc pack happened upon us.”

“An orc pack so close to Rivendell?” Thranduíl asked, his forehead furrowing slightly. “They do not normally come so close to either there or here.”

“Elrond said they’d been having a bit of trouble lately,” Dwalin explained, reaching for his tankard. “In their disarray, they have come bold.”

“They are no longer in such disarray.” Tauriel shook her head, bringing her napkin to her lips before adding, “The rumor is they are under new leadership.”

“Is that so?” Thorin asked. “Who?”

“I only know his name is Tarog and he is somehow related to Azog, but I know not how.”

Dwalin let out a heavy sigh. “Wonderful. One more thing for us to worry about.” 

His gaze alit on Nina and she hoped no one at the table saw her stiffen. When she met his stare, it was to see his eyes were those cold slivers of ice once more. Forcing what she hoped was a reassuring smile to her lips, she said, “You needn’t worry at all. Extra eyes and an extra blade, remember.”

“Aye, I remember,” Dwalin replied evenly. 

“We will be fine,” Thorin said, reaching for his tankard. He lifted it for a long drink, then set it back and wiped his mouth before pushing away from the table. “Now, if you will all excuse me, I am going to go and get some much needed sleep. I bid you all good evening and will see you in the morning.”

Dwalin also rose. “I think that sounds like a good idea.” He looked over at her. “What about you, Miss Nina?”

Her impulse was to say no, that she wasn't tired, but she had the feeling that would arouse suspicion, so she forced a smile and got to her feet. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Good evening, Your Majesty,” she directed this at Thranduíl, then bid the others a good evening as well.

Dwalin fell into step with her as they left the dining room. “Why was Thorin in your chambers earlier?”

“You would have to ask him what prompted it,” she told him with a shrug. “For I haven’t a clue.”

“It’s a bit concerning, about this Tarog, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know one orc from another,” she replied as offhandedly as she could manage. “Just as I don't know who Azog is or was. My dealings with orcs are only when they cross paths with me. I do not go in search of them.”

“Still, it’s odd, that they grow bolder, supposedly have a new leader, and yet, you just happened to be where they were as well.”

She stopped then. “What is it you accuse me of, Dwalin? Of being in league with this Tarog, whoever he might be?”

“I am saying it is a strange coincidence, is all.”

She glanced at Thorin, far enough ahead of them that he apparently didn't notice the whispered confrontation going on behind him, then turned her attention back to Dwalin. “Tell me, do you think it odd that I am supposed to be in league with that filth, and yet you saw me cut down as many as I could?”

“I saw nothing of the sort, lass. I saw you just happen to be between Thorin and an orc arrow.”

She rolled her eyes as if he’d obviously lost his mind. “And yet, he lives still and there is no sign of any orc pack here, is there? You should stop being so blasted suspicious, you know this? I’m growing tired of being accused of playing you false when you have no reason to accuse me at all. Now, if you don't mind, I’ll bid you a good evening.”

She shoved by him and marched to her chambers, and much as she wanted to slam the door, she didn’t. Instead, she just closed it by, dropped the latch in place to lock it, and moved to the terrace once more. 

The air was cold now, despite the fact that the earlier breeze had died. She sat on the wide railing, staring out into the dark forest, trying to calm her mind enough so that she might try to get some sleep. 

Her plan was in shambles now. She could still feel Thorin’s massive hands against her cheeks, could feel how gentle his touch was as he swept the tears from her skin. She had the feeling his kiss would have been just as gentle. Gentle, but tinged with hints of fire. And had Dwalin not interrupted…

Dwalin. 

He could prove to be a problem, though. He knew she wasn't as she presented herself, he just didn’t know how right he was to be concerned. At least, up until that night, anyway. Now, as she turned her gaze to her sword, still propped against the wall just inside the door, she had the feeling she would not be able to raise it against Thorin. 

But he could never know the truth of why she was there, of how she came to be in his company, and why she offered her services to him. 

With a low sigh, she let her head fall into her hands. How did it become so complicated? She had always thought that no matter how many times Thorin might apologize for that night, she would never forgive him. Her hatred of him and the anguish caused by what he had taken from her was simply too great. 

So, why did she only want him to kiss her so badly?

She was tired, that was all. Tired and worn out and it had been a long time since anyone held her. Come morning, after a good night’s rest, her resolve would renew and things wouldn’t be quite as complicated as they seemed right then and there.

At least, she hoped they would’t. 

It was amazing what a decent night’s sleep in a comfortable bed could do for a body. Her mind might still be a jumble of tangled thoughts, but as she lay there, atop a soft mattress, tucked between smooth, fresh linens, Nina could forget, if only for a moment, everything else.

A hint of jasmine hung in the air, wafted through on the light breeze that wound its way into her chambers. In the distance, birds chirped and the sunlight that filtered through the canopy of leaves was almost pure gold in its radiance. 

She stared up at the woven vines and limbs that made up the vaulted ceiling in her chambers and she smiled as several birds flittered through to nestle in those branches. For a moment, she didn't care if she ever left Mirkwood. For a moment, everything was perfect.

She stretched, then snuggled back into the pillows, which were as soft as the linens. Thorin had made no mention of when he planned to depart, and she rather hoped they’d stay a few days to regain a bit of their energy. 

That hope was dashed a moment later when there came a firm rap at the door. “Miss Nina?”

Thorin’s low voice sent a shiver through her, one that was equal parts delicious and disturbing. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

She sat up and tossed back the quilts, then got to her feet to pad over to the door. As she tugged it open, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him on the opposite side of the threshold, looking just as refreshed as she felt. “Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No. I was just being lazy.”

His eyes widened as they moved over her and she almost smiled. Her night rail was thin, but not immodest, although the pale blue ribbon holding the neck closed had loosened while she slept. Although the cotton parted, it did not show much more than just the beginning of her décolletage. Still, it was somewhat amusing, watching those pale blue eyes, fringed with such thick black lashes, widen, and seeing the hint of color that swept along his cheeks, above the dark hair of his beard. 

When the silence stretched between them, this time she did smile. “Thorin?”

He started, then offered up a sheepish smile. “I beg your pardon, of course.” He cleared his throat. “I came to see if you were planning to come to breakfast.”

Her stomach rumbled on its own, and she smiled. “I don't suppose you would believe me if I tried to say no, would you?”

“Not likely, no.”

“Then, give me a moment to dress and I’ll be out.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

He didn't wait for her reply, but bobbed his head and left her to dress in peace. 

It only took her a few minutes, since her meager wardrobe was little more than two changes of trousers and tops. Perhaps, if they would be there a few more days, she could sneak off to one of the streams and wash at least one change of clothes. The trousers had become conspicuously baggy. 

So she dressed in the not-so-baggy (although a bit dirt-spattered) trousers and the cleaner of the two shirts, then swept her hair back into a loose knot and secured it as best she could, which took some doing, as she only had a tiny handful of pins. 

Thorin waited for her, as he said, just beyond her door and she smiled. “You did not actually have to wait. I could find the dining hall.”

“I know but I dislike walking into a room alone. Especially here.”

“Why?”

They strolled along the walkway and he glanced down at her. “They stare.”

“Oh, no. Not that,” she drawled, nudging him with her shoulder. “How dare they.”

“I know, it sounds silly, but… My relationship with the woodland elves is rocky at best. Thranduíl and I are civil to one another, but there is no great love between dwarves and elves.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long and rather dull story, and one I’d rather not rehash, if it’s all the same.”

“I understand.” She stepped off to the edge of the walkway. “It’s so pretty here in spring, when everything begins to bloom. I’ve never been here before, and I had no idea what to expect.”

“The last time I was here was in autumn.” He joined her, resting both hands on the woven wood. “And it was anything but pretty. The air even seemed different. Dark and heavy.”

“I hear this place is enchanted.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. “It is, indeed. In some places, the enchantments are harmless, but in others? Dark magic is woven through them, so one has to take care.”

“Dark magic? Here?” She turned to him, her hip bumping against the rail. “Where?”

“One of the streams is said to be heavy with it, but I don't know which one. It’s best to assume they all are and avoid them. I know one is imbued with some sort of sleep magic. It knocked Bombur out cold.”

“You say that name as if I am to know who or what a Bombur is.”

That earned her a smile. “He is one of my people. We passed through here on our trek to Erebor.”

“And found out the hard way to avoid at least one stream. Why not just ask Thranduíl which ones to avoid?”

“At the time, he and I were not on speaking terms.”

“And yet he let you pass through his realm?”

To her surprise, a hint of color rose along his cheekbones. He shook his head, a sheepish smile coming to his lips. “Not exactly. We tried to get through unnoticed, but were attacked by spiders.”

A shiver rippled through her. “Spiders?”

“The size of houses, yes. The elves came to our aid, although I highly doubt that was intentional.” He linked his fingers, leaning on his forearms as he turned his gaze to the woods around them. “So, in the end we were not so much guests as we were prisoners.”

“Prisoners? One king to another?”

A dry laugh bubbled to his lips, one that was deep and low and although it contained no humor, it was hardly an unpleasant sound. And for the first time since they’d left Rivendell, he wasn’t dressed for the elements, but instead looked far more relaxed in trousers and a simple black rough-hewn henley. He’d pushed the sleeves up, stretching them about his thick forearms, and she had the strangest urge to trace along the muscle that ropes those forearms, to trace along the leather bracelet woven about his left wrist. 

“I was a king in name only, remember. My kingdom belonged to a firedrake from the north named Smaug. So, no, it was not one king to another. We would probably still be in the dungeons, had Master Baggins not thought to swipe the keys or had he not come up with the idea of using wine barrels to escape.”

“Wine barrels?”

“It was quite the sight, I’m sure. All of us crammed into those barrels, bouncing down the rapids, at the will of the currents.” His smile faded. “Orcs found us here and Kíli was wounded in battle against them.”

“Kíli?”

“My nephew. My younger nephew, to be exact. He was struck by a morgul shaft.” 

“What? Did it kill him?”

“It might have, had it not been for one of Mirkwood’s captains, Tauriel. She recognized the symptoms and knew what to do.”

“He was lucky she was there.”

“Indeed.” 

She shifted, leaning on one elbow as she smiled up at him. “I cannot picture you riding in a barrel, though. Especially downriver.”

“Had I not been there, I’d agree with you. But that was how we escaped imprisonment. We paid Bard to smuggle us into Esgaroth and then—” He cut himself off abruptly, turning back toward the woods. “Well, you know the rest.”

“I do,” she moved closer to him, “but you can speak of it, if you wish. I always wondered how you managed to get into Esgaroth without the Master knowing.”

“The same barrels. Only Bard hid us beneath pounds upon pounds of fish.”

“Ew.” Her nose wrinkled at the image. “That must have smelled awful.”

“Awful is not the word for it. But, we survived.” He went quiet again, just staring off into the woods. 

“Thorin?”

“What?”

“Were you lying at the time? When you promised to share the wealth of Erebor with us?”

He didn't say anything for a long time, but looked from the woods, to her, and back again as the silence stretched between them. Then, he drew in a deep breath, and exhaled in a long, slow sigh. “Yes.”

She thought as much but it still stung to hear him admit it. Before she could say anything, though, he went on. “I would have promised anything if it meant convincing the Master to aid us. My quest meant that much to me, to my people.”

He turned to her then, his eyes serious and dark, “But know this, it was never my intention to bring harm to anyone in Esgaroth. We tried to kill the beast ourselves. Tried to drown him in the gold he so coveted. But we failed and for that, I can never be sorry enough.”

She straightened up. “We should go to breakfast.”

“Nina,” he caught her by the arm as she pushed away from the railing, “you must know I mean every word.”

“I do, Thorin.” She looked up at him and nodded. 

“Good. And I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me as well.”

“I’m not angry with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened that night and I’ve gone on. You should as well.” Without thinking, she reached up to lay her hand against his solid shoulder. “But, you should also be careful. There is still a bounty out on you, you know. It did not die with Azog.”

His eyes widened, then sharply narrowed. “How did you know about that?”

“I overhead two men discussing it at a tavern in Bree. Why do you think I offered my assistance to you?” She glanced down at the huge hand still on her arm, and then met his gaze once more. “I don't know why he hunted you, but someone will look to collect on it. From what I understand, he offered a substantial amount so…”

“So… you were there… in the clearing… intentionally?”

She nodded, although her heart sped up as she waited for him to ask which side she was on, protecting him or collecting on the price on his head. “I was. I tracked you from Dunning. I tend to blend with my surroundings when I wish to, and no one pays what they think is a boy any mind, so I could slip through crowds and the like with ease.”

But apparently the thought never crossed his mind, for all he said was, “You followed me?”

“I followed you. I thought about approaching you at the Grey Bear, but then had a bit of a to-do with the owner and by the time I freed myself from it, you were gone.”

“A to-do?”

She nodded. It almost frightened her, how easily the lies rolled from her tongue. At one point, she’d have burned with shame for lying on so grand a scale, but at the same time, she couldn’t very well tell him to truth, either. “He thought I was skipping out on my tab. I just wanted to catch up to you and offer my service and he didn't want to hear that, so…”

He smiled. “You are full of surprises, do you know that?”

“I have my moments, I suppose.”

A soft laugh bubbled to his lips, his eyes going from sapphire to cobalt once more. “I imagine you do, Nina.”

He said it softly, the air between them crackling with a mysterious electricity. The fingers on her arm tightened. He pulled her closer. He bent to her.

His lips were warm and soft as they captured hers, the coarse hair of his beard tickling against her skin. He released her arm to slip his about her waist, to the small of her back, and tightened to pull her flush against him. His body was every bit as solid as it appeared, heat rising from him to sink into her as his mouth moved slowly against hers. 

One hand slid up, along her back, into her hair, where he dislodged several pins. Her eyes closed as he bent her back, his lips parting, the tip of his tongue brushed her lips and the sensation had her snapping open her eyes, and she abruptly pulled away from him.

Guilt twisted her insides at the confusion in his eyes. “Have I overstepped?” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “No, forget I asked that. Of course I’ve overstepped. And for that, I truly apologize.”

“Please don’t,” she told him, catching his hands in hers. “You didn’t overstep. But—”

She stopped, pressing her lips together. She’d been about to tell him the true reason why she was there, why she was in that clearing, but the words died on her lips. He would be furious and she would not fault him in the least. 

And truly, the only thing she wanted was to fall into his arms, to lose herself in his kiss, to fall into his arms and lose herself in him. Forever, if that was even possible.

If only it was.

“But what?”

She drew in a deep breath. “But… it would be a mistake for either of us to let anything happen, for either of us to even think anything could happen. A terrible mistake.”

She braced herself for his anger, just as she had for any of the boys of Esgaroth who thought to try to steal a kiss from her, only to find her shoving them away from her. More often than not, the boy in question blamed her for not allowing him to take liberties, although she made herself perfectly clear what would happen if any did.

But there was no anger, just a sense of resignation about him as he slowly exhaled and nodded. “As you wish.”

“We should just go and get breakfast and pretend this never happened.”

“Again, as you wish.”

A heaviness settled about her. “On second thought, I’m not very hungry. Do go on though, and eat.”

“Nina—”

“Please. Just—just go.”

Darkness slid through his eyes. “Very well. Remember what I said about this place. Do not do anything foolish.”

“I will. You needn’t worry.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

“Good.” 

With that, he turned and without another word, resumed his stride toward the dining hall. She stood there, rooted to her spot, and just watched him until he rounded a bend and she could no longer see him. Then, she turned back to the rail, bending to rest her forearms on it, just as he had only minutes earlier, and let her eyes close as her shoulders slumped.

How had this happened? It was all so simple. Find Thorin Oakenshield, end his life, collect the bounty from Tarog. That was it. That was all she had to do.

Curse it all, why had it gotten so blasted complicated?

Because he was not the monster she’d built him up to be in her mind. He was no more that monster than she was. He was actually the opposite—a fair-minded, competent leader who put his people before himself. He’d learned from his grievous mistake and was trying to do right.

He no longer deserved her anger, for he truly regretted what he’d done. She saw that for herself. Heard it for herself in his voice and his words. 

So now what? 

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Crying would solve nothing. It was a waste of time and energy and she had other things with which with to concern herself and a tryst with Thorin Oakenshield was not one of them. 

There was still plenty of ground between Mirkwood and the Long Lake. She would do what she set out to do and be done with it. Then she would collect her money, find somewhere she hadn’t been before, and begin anew there. 

But, even as she made her decision, she had the feeling she was about to make the worst mistake of her life. 

[islandtarochips]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!

Talofa everyone! I am IslandTaroChips or you can just call me Taro or Chips! I'm just scrolling around Tumblr for any inspirations for me to make any kind of Fanfic story that I'm very interested in (Which it's mostly COD). Let me tell you more about myself before you went on ahead of looking at the rest of my blog here!

Introduction: General:

· I am 23-years-old who loves any fandoms that I'm interested in · Creating OCs in writing is what I do (I can't draw but I'm learning to) · Writing fanfic or a short story about my OCs or any other people's OCs (For I know we all wanted to have comfort characters in our life or we wanted to comfort them) ·I am currently working at the moment and trying to help my family. So please don't expect me to get things done from here. ·I'm Samoan who was born from America and lived the rest of my life down in the Island (Doesn't know ALL of the Samoan language T-T) ·I really do love making OCs on any fandoms that is base with the Polynesian sides (Mostly the Samoan ones) and would love to share my culture with you guys here ·can write Y/n x Canon characters ·I'm a sucker for angst, fluff and romance

Fandom/Interests that I'm into:

- Call of Duty (Only the Modern Warfare that I know about but didn't play :D)

- Genshin Impact

- Honkai Star Rail

- Resident Evil

- The Last of Us

Some things I’m not Interested in:

·Not into writing NSFW ·Not into writing MLM or FLF ·Not into writing Spice either ·Not into writing a threesome or more kind of relationship

DISCLAIMER:

·You can interact with me if you would like but please be nice and kind before doing so ·If you are not and you decided to say something negative towards me. I will have to respectfully to ask you not to interact with me but if you don't respect that than I have no choice but to block you. ·If you would like to request of me writing a short story with your OCs x Canon or a Y/n x Canon. I would GLADLY accept it! But there will be boundaries for me not to do it. ·Letting you guys know that there will be some swearing words in the story ·JUST because I said that I'm not into writing MLM or FLF DOESN'T mean I'm disrespecting of who they are. For I am a Christian but I don't push my religion on here. For I only wanted to do some fun writing in here and expressing of what I'm passionate of.

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 OCs: (No Drawings I'm Afraid :,( I'm sorry...)

What is the Warriors Task Force?

Tiala "Shark" Toa 🦈📄 Captain Kanoa Toa 🇦🇸📄 Nigel "Squirrel" Harrison 🐿️📄 Agnes "Blast" Falagi 💥📄 Dr. Aelan Kalani ⛑️📄 General Alana Kalani 🎖️📄

Las Almas OC: Camila “Rosa” Flores 🌹📄

Shadow Company OC: Callie "Snipe" Graves 🇺🇸📄

Samoan Tattoo Ideas for my OC

Samoan Tattoo Ideas for my OC #2

Knowing the Toa Siblings (Oldest Edition)

Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War OC:

Koa “Hunter” Nikau 🔪📄

Aroha Arehe Nikau 📄

Here are the story that I did so far if you're interested of reading it:

Opt In/Out: If you want to be tagged for the stories that I'm creating. Either Canon x Reader or OC x Canon or some of my OCs lore backstory or other story related post. Then you may pressed up there if you want to be part of it. If not then that's ok! Thank you!

Farm AU (141 x Reader):

Farmer!Price x Farmer!Female!Reader 🚬📝

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

COD Characters x Reader

Obsessed!Makarov x Female!Reader

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

My OCs Stories:

The Blame (Kanoa's Angst Story)

The Warrior Within (COD Fanfic Story)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Operation Red Tide

Chapter One

Ok! That’s about it! Thank you for reading this far! Love ya!😘❤️

[atlas-likes-writing]

Febuwhump day five: Rope burns

Characters: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish.

Fandom: Call of Duty

Summary: After a rough week at the hands of the destructive Makarov, Soap has some wounds to show for it.

Word count: 686.

Tags: Whump, injury, burns, mentions of torture, mentions of kidnapping.

Authors note: This is a little shorter than my other ones but I like it regardless. I am VERY tired right now so this will be posted to my ao3 and connected to the rest of the prompts tomorrow morning. This is unedited so expect mistakes.

@febuwhump

That was not how Soap was expecting his week to go. 

This was not how Soap was expecting his week to end. 

He’s finally been rescued. After what felt like months (but was actually only six days), the 141 got a hit on his location and retrieved him easily. The SAS do specialise in hostage situations, after all. 

It’s a bit embarrassing to admit that Soap was pretty useless during his rescue. There’s no shame in it – the rest of the team have made that obvious ever since Johnny returned – but he cannot help but feel the pool of shame sloshing around his gut at how he practically let himself get taken. The others deny it, but the fact remains that he basically strolled into Makarov’s ambush screaming his presence at the top of his lungs with a giant neon sign pointed at his head that read, “Johnny MacTavish woz ‘ere.” 

He was tied up when they found him, covered in bruises and crying from the strain of it all. There is no shame in that either. When they undid the ropes that bound him, Johnny could not stop shaking. He’s shaken up even after all this happened, but since he’s come back, he has not spared his injured wrists and ankles a single look. He’s too afraid of what lies under his sleeves for him to dare. 

Until now. 

He’s in the shared bathroom in the men’s accommodation at base. It’s large, with about thirty cubicles lining one wall side-by-side and thirty sinks with mirrors on the other. Soap now stands in front of one of these mirrors after finishing his nightly routine before he goes to sleep on the piss-resistant green sponges the military call beds. His arms are still in intense pain, every movement of his body causing searing pain to shoot up his spine. He plucks up the courage to roll back his sleeves. His injuries look just as bad as they feel. 

Two rings of raw red skin wrap around his wrists like limpets. The aggravated skin is blistered and shiny and boiling to the touch. Soap can’t help but hiss in pain with the action. It’s been two days. He needs to clean it, or the burn will get infected, which opens an entirely different can of beans for him to sort out. He glances at the taps that sit on the white ceramic of the sink and the pink bottle of mango zest and passion fruit soap that was placed previously by its previous owner and forgotten about (Cleaning products don’t exist here. If you want soap – the item, not the person – you better get it yourself). No, he thinks. No soap. He chuckles to himself at the irony and reaches for the cold-water tap, turning it on. Icy water shoots out the metal, and Soap can’t help but dread the idea of putting his arm under there. He braces his arm against the side of the basin and bites his lip in preparation before he thrusts his arm under the freezing stream of water. 

When he does, he can almost hear his skin sizzling in the water. A searing agony dances up his nerves and Soap lets out a pathetic, pained noise that escapes his throat. Almost as soon as he puts his arm in the sink, he yanks it back out again, hissing in pain at it like an angry cat. 

Still, he must continue. He can’t simply not clean his wounds. An infected burn is horrendous to treat, and Johnny cannot be bothered to deal with the worry-wort combat medics who whitter over everything under the sun. He instead puts his hand under the water, gritting his teeth in pain. He removes his hand again, but this time after a longer stretch of time. He keeps doing it – in out, in out – until he eventually grows accustomed to the pain and just holds his arm under the stream of water for another twenty minutes. 

Now for the second arm. Soap thinks he might need a cloth to bite down on while he does it this time. 

-

AO3

[imogens-temult]

okay i'm sorry but the way i saw this post randomly in the 'theexpanseedit' tag and proceeded to lose my damn mind 'cause it was SO fucking beautiful and amazing and stunning and really did justice to her character and just ARGHHHH. and then. THEN. i came across THIS post and freaked out again 'cause. the talent????? MINDBOGGLING. and then. TURNS OUT YOU MADE BOTH OF THEM???????????????????????????????

...

...

...how?????????

(basically. i love your brain so much 'cause you are SO TALENTED. also. d20 fan? we have no choice but to stan tumblr user figuerothsfaeth i'm afraid 😌💖)

AHHHHH stop this is actually the sweetest messaged I’ve ever had 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I appreciate it so so much, i love the lil expanse fandom so anytime anyone comes to me that’s a fan I’m !!!!!!!! and thank you, i loooove getting to gif my beloved camina and the rest of them honestly 💜

AKSBDJSKSK im blushing but thank you sm, the way i am about to change this url ooops but yessss d20 is wonderful and i am always happy to find more people who love it too heheheheh 🥰

[ruiniel]

Remember

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Kokushibō x fem!Reader

Chapter Count: 1.5K

Rating: 🔞

Chapter Tags & Warnings: Blood, Mild Gore, Injury, POV Second Person

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX

On AO3

VI.

The path to the temple feels longer than usual. Once there, you waver. How does one make sense of all you’ve seen so far? The world, different to anything one’s known all their life, is an idea difficult to grasp for anyone. 

And if you told others, would they think you were out of your mind? The most likely possibility. All I can do is try not to be swept away by this tide of strangeness. The truth has to be lurking somewhere.

The building is silent at your arrival but for the faint tinkle of bells here and there. There are people inside, many of whom you assume to be devotees. There are adjacent huts which you heard offer refuge to those in need of it. The assembly lingers either in prayer or in wait.

You notice, for the first time, how dark it is inside, with only a few sparse lamps lighting the way. The space smells of agarwood incense, and soft chanting reaches you from a separate chamber. 

“Hello?”

“Greetings,” a kindly-looking man comes before you. “What might we help you with?”

“Is your master receiving today?”

“Oh, hmm,” the man looks behind his shoulder. “I’m afraid he is not here at the moment.”

“I need to speak with him. Will you please relay—”

“Hideo-san,” a soothing voice hails from somewhere. Despite its familiarity, apprehension coils in your gut. 

That maniac got to me with his ‘warnings’… You shake free of the sensation as the personage in question nears, or rather, glides over. There is, without a doubt, an allure to his presence, confirmed by the deeply blushing acolyte. 

He must certainly be well-loved among his followers. 

“Honored Founder, forgive me! I didn’t think you’d be in yet,” the disciple says, bowing his head in contrition.

“Please, don’t worry, neither did I! But here I am.” He takes in your features, bright eyes widening in recognition. “Greetings yet again! How good to see you! But…you look rather unwell. Has something happened?”

A sigh leaves you. “May we speak somewhere… in private?”

His smile is as lovely as it ever was. “Of course. Come, this way.”

The priest is not human. 

You smother the vexing reminder, following him deeper inside the pillared temple.

“... I see.”

You’d relayed the latest encounter with your unusual visitor, without mentioning your offering and his actions that followed, for now. There’s something in the priest’s manner, in the way he observes you this time, that keeps you from doing so. But you needed to tell someone, anyone, else you went mad. 

He tilts his head, regarding you with a pitying expression. “You’re being given no reprieve from this, are you?”

“I only want to know why these things keep happening. But…” But he seemed not to know either. Unless he was lying. And even then, why? “What I can say, is that he… confirmed your own presumptions from last time we spoke.” It still rings preposterous, even after you felt the strength of him biting into you. 

“Oh?” The fair face is the epitome of childlike wonder—so out of place compared to the rest of him, you now realize.

“About immortals, ones that feed on living flesh and blood.”

“Did he, now…? How very interesting. And what about you? Do you believe such a thing?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Honored Founder.”

The mild smile persists, but now it fails to bring you ease. His gaze drops to your collar, where a bandage barely peeks from beneath. His eyes, shining demurely in the barely lit chamber, swiftly turn sharp. 

There’s nothing aberrant about the person seated cross-legged before you, the handsome man with the birch-colored hair and rainbow gaze. Nothing at all... However, upon closer inspection, the comforting atmosphere of benevolence reveals a subtle peculiarity, akin to scented herbs concealing the odor of decay. How had these details escaped you before?

The air is dizzying, encroaching, frosty.

“I’m afraid I have nothing else to share on the matter,” he says, still smiling. His manner is amiable, but his eyes linger on the bandage at your neck.

“... nothing else? At all? I’m not even sure what to do, if…”

“No.” Kindly spoken, but definite. A long, pale hand points at precisely the area where the supposed ‘demon’ drank from you. “Owed to that.” 

“W-what?” He knows? How can he know? Impossible. Your hand flies to your injury even as you rise unsteadily to your feet.

The priest is still smiling his unwavering smile. “My dear, I like to think of myself as generous, and I do my best against leaving people mucking about in the dark, as it were… All I can say is this: the mark you now carry prohibits further involvement from me, or anyone else.” He rises as well, the smile as cutting as his eyes. “... from anyone, or anything.”

For a moment, for only a moment, the lamplight shines not on black pupils, but on something else; something you’d seen before, in another’s eyes. 

You back away. He keeps watching, unmoving, hands clasped before him. 

The room grows icier still. “I… I should be going.” 

“I agree. That would be best.”

You nod, trepidation making your limbs shake as you head for the sliding panel, stumbling out and never looking back.

You pace around your home, restless and shaking. Having made your way back, the peculiar encounter at the temple is still fresh; it makes your skin crawl. What is it about your injury that made that man retreat, when he’d been so forthcoming before? The subtle change in his demeanor had awakened all your worst instincts.

You try to steady yourself with distractions. Music comes to mind, but you can’t bring yourself to touch the flute now. What you felt today was dread, not dissimilar to the visceral one permeating the air when he is near. 

Nothing makes sense, so you hang on to the mundane to keep from falling apart. You take out the rice and set a pot to boil as the dying sunset fades through the shoji panels. 

It’s all right, I’ll… I’ll leave. I’ll sell this place, if I have to. I’ll move to a large city, start anew…

A crashing sound startles you, and your head swivels towards the source.

The entrance is blocked by a shadow. 

“Who’s there?”

The shadow shifts and lurches, revealing the form of a… woman? She walks closer, but no sooner does the lamp reveal her better than you freeze.

Her bloodshot eyes have an abnormal sheen to them, as though they’re made of glass. What appear to be fangs protrude from the snarling mouth, and saliva drips down her chin. With each passing moment, she appears less human and more like a wild animal, causing your hands to tremble despite the distance between you.

“I don’t know what you’re doing in my home, b-but I want you to leave.”

A growl is the only answer, followed by movements of frightful speed and agility. You dart out of the way, into the other room. Frenzied eyes seeking, you reach for the first useful object in sight: a sheathed sword set on its stand in a place of honor. 

There comes a mournful hiss as you unsheathe the weapon, grasping the handle with both shaking hands, as your father once taught you. You’d not done this in years, and the sequences are too rusted to rekindle in your memory. 

“Damn it—”

It pounces; you scream, gripping the blade as sturdily as you can, ready for the unthinkable.

Warm droplets splash your face; before you, time slows. There is one slash, the pale gleam of metal. The attacker falls at your feet, its body split clean in two. 

The author of the single stroke goes out of stance. He looks at you.

“Stand back.” The sword is still in your grip. It probably won’t do much against him, but what else could you possibly try now? The dripping warmth on your skin must be blood, and the last thing you want is him, close.  

He says nothing, does nothing. The sight of his dark-stained clothing compared to the last time you met fills you with horror. The choking smell of sliced flesh makes you gag in disgust. 

“I—” he says, and, to your surprise, stumbles forward, so unlike his usual grace. 

“Leave me be, why won’t you just leave me be?!” Your voice might be frantic, you can’t tell. You follow his every movement, taking in his appearance: face deathly pale, dark hair untamed, falling freely over his shoulders. He crosses over the fallen body, towards you, smashing its head underfoot. Each step is agonizingly slow. One blood-stained hand grasps at his own throat, his sword still held in the other.

When he’s so close that the curved point of your blade touches his chest, you see it: a deep, long gash, slit across his neck. The blood drenching his kimono down to his middle is his own, and so much of it.

Your breaths are loud and harsh. “Don’t come any closer, stop—what are you doing?! You’ll hurt yourself, you fool—”

He takes no heed of the sharp steel about to pierce his chest, nearing all the more, lips parting to speak words that won’t come. As he sinks to his knees and his own weapon clatters onto the floor, all you can do is stare in confusion.

This curse of yours—because that’s what he feels like—is panting as he glances up at you. His voice is so weak you barely hear him, and still wish you hadn’t. That disquieting array of eyes, fading scarlet and gold, burrow into your will. “…I need… your help.”

 The blade drops from your hands.

Part VII