#new tag alert children

[lesmissocials-fuckedup]

Today I present to you this gem from the Belgian les mis account, asking us what our prison number would be, which is. Certainly a move.

Translation : 24601 - Nordin (Javert actor in this production) explains why this is such an important number in Les Misérables. What would be your prison number? 🤔

Note : thanks again to @javertautismtruther for letting me know about this one ! I try to share the posts I can find, but I must admit Instagram posts and posts of non-english speaking les mis account often fly under the radar so if you ever see something like this, a heads-up is always more than welcome !

[wigglepiggle]

NO FUCKING WAY I MADE FIRELEAFY FAN CHILDREN. WHEN. WHEN DID I DO THIS. NO FUCKING WAAYYYYY I DID NOT NO

i never even shipped fireleafy i said i did because i thought you needed to ship something to be i a fandom back then. oh my god you cannot be for real. I didn't even look at the actual scratch project yet I just read the description and saw their names. firey leafy and icefire what the fuck is happening I never knew I made these stop

there's nothing wrong with fankids btw I just never had interests in them ever or so I thought apparently I'm discovering lore about myself up in here dude

[a-killer-obsession]

Afab reader B number 19 please

Sweet Little Cream Donut

Prompt: Breeding

Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship (kinda?), body worship, size difference, oral (reader receiving), loss of virginity, squirting, creampie, cockwarming

WC: 2.5k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

“I don't know what to do anymore, Brulee,” you sighed to your sister-in-law, blowing on your tea before taking a sip of the hot sweet liquid. You'd spent a great deal of time with her since your wedding to Katakuri three months ago, and you felt comfortable talking to her about anything and everything. She loved her brother and wanted him to be happy, just as much as she wanted you to be happy with him.

“Have you talked to him about it?” She asked, stirring sugar into her tea, making small clinks as the spoon rubbed against the edge of the porcelain cup.

“I mean, I mentioned a few times that Mama has been more than enthusiastic about grandchildren,” you placed your teacup back down on the gold rimmed plate, “but he just gives a huff and changes the subject. He barely even kisses me. Maybe I'm not pretty enough for him”

“That is certainly not the case!” Brulee exclaimed, “sister, you are beautiful! A woman truly worthy of my darling big brother! I think perhaps… perhaps he's scared of hurting you? Hes always been a gentle soul”

“Mama chose me for a reason,” you pouted, “my people are larger than most, stronger, and she knew how much I want children when she picked me, he should know I'm more than capable of holding my own. Mama isn't stupid, she didn't pick some flimsy human for a reason”

“Maybe it's time to lay it on thick then,” Brulee suggested with a mischievous smile, “buy some pretty new lingerie, sweet perfume, light some candles, seduce him”

“Brulee!” You giggled, not expecting the woman to be so forward, “shopping trip then?”

“Shopping trip!” She clapped excitedly.

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆

Katakuri was due in at any moment. He often had a meeting with Mama after dinner, as a Sweet Commander and the Minister of Flour it was important that he and the other ministers and commanders meet a few times a week to keep up to date with the happenings in Totto Land. Tonight was one of those meetings, so you'd had time to prepare for your grand scheme of seduction. Shaving every hair from your body, applying perfumes and lotions that smelt like baked goods, putting on a pretty new set of pink lingerie - a lace trimmed mesh mini dress and matching thong - and setting the mood with vanilla candles and soft music. Everything was ready and you paced the room nervously before finally settling on the edge of the bed, waiting for the heavy footsteps in the hall that signalled the approach of your husband.

Your legs rubbed together in anticipation, losing your virginity to such a large man was no small event, but it should have happened months ago on your wedding night, and you were more than ready for him to finally claim you. Not to mention, you were eager to present Mama with a grandchild - you wanted to fit in here, but the longer you went without signs of pregnancy, the more she subconsciously frowned in your presence. She was an intimidating woman, you wanted to please her.

Heavy footsteps and the unlatching of the door alerted you to Katakuri's arrival, and you stood tall as he entered. Your kind were large, yourself standing at 9 feet tall, but Katakuri was a giant of a man, almost twice your size at 16 feet. You picked at the cuticles of your fingers nervously as you waited for him to latch the door and turn to you, his expression unreadable as he noticed you standing there and took in your appearance and the romantic atmosphere. He removed his scarf slowly, he'd shown you his true face before the wedding, not wanting to force you into a marriage if you were going to be scared of him, and his nose wiggled as he smelt the sweet scents in the air.

“What is this?” He asked nervously.

“This is… me… asking you to take me to bed,” you tried to feign confidence but it was hard to form a coherent sentence or keep his eye. He languidly closed the space between you and fiddled with the hem of your dress, rubbing the thin silky fabric between his thumb and index.

“I take you to bed every night,” he stated.

“Kat… you know that's not what I mean,” your hand laid against his bare chest where his vest lay open, tracing one of the bright pink tattooed stripes that ran down it. He shivered under your touch and quickly took a step back, your hand falling limp to your side.

“I can't,” he said softly.

“Why not?” You pouted, feeling hurt at his rejection, “am I not pretty enough? Do you not want to give me children? Are you… are you ashamed of me?” A tear formed and rolled down your cheek as you admitted to the insecurities.

He was back in front of you in a flash, wiping the tear gently with his thumb, his large hand easily encompassing the entire side of your face as you leaned into it and looked at him longingly. “That's not it! You're beautiful, so unbearably stunning,” he quickly assured you, “I… I can barely keep myself from you, night after night, but I… I can't… I don't want to hurt you”

You held his hand to your face and blinked up at him, his sad expression looking out of place on his strong features. “You won't hurt me Kat, you have to trust that I'd tell you if you were hurting me. I'm not glass, I'm strong, Mama chose me for a reason. You won't hurt me. I want you, Katakuri, please”

His breath hitched as you found a new wave of confidence, running your hand up his chest and up to his jaw, tracing one of his sharp teeth with your fingertip, showing him how unafraid you were. Your hand ran back down as you circled him, Katakuri turning with you as though it were a dance, till his back was to the bed. You pressed against his chest and he let you move him, falling to sit on the bed as you climbed into his lap to straddle it. Raised on your knees you could just barely reach his mouth, and you pressed a hot, desperate kiss onto him, a small whine escaping him as you forced your tongue past his sharp teeth, wet muscles meeting and crashing against each other for the first time. You pushed the vest from his shoulders, letting it fall to the bed, and ran your hands over his body, guiding his hands to your waist before pulling him down by his neck so you could lower yourself to grind against his forming erection.

Your tongue ran up the scar on the side of his face till your mouth met his ear, tugging on the lobe with your teeth before whispering to him. “Breed me, Katakuri”

He made a possessive growl before grabbing your waist and flipping you both so you laid underneath him. His strong hands made quick work of your pretty new lingerie, tearing them from your body and revealing your soft bare skin that prickled with goosebumps as the cool night air touched it. Cool air replaced by hot wet saliva, his thick tongue ran over you, eagerly tasting and devouring every inch of you, making you moan and writhe as he sucked and nipped at your more sensitive spots, leaving marks over your entire body. The only place he avoided was your needy centre, teasing you and working you up as he touched and licked at your arms and legs and torso and neck, till finally he ran his tongue up your thigh and pushed your legs apart, groaning as he ran a fat stripe up your dripping virgin cunt. This flavour was all for him, nobody else would ever taste such delights, he thought to himself as he devoured you greedily.

You moaned and tugged at his short purple hair as he lapped and sucked at your sensitive pussy, rolling your clit with his tongue, his breath hot and vibrating against you as he let out satisfied groans and held your thighs around his face. He looked up at you with hungry eyes that had your hips rolling on their own accord, unintentionally riding his tongue as he grinned against you, careful to control your movements so as not to catch your soft plush thighs against his sharp teeth. You practically screamed from pleasure as his tongue bullied its way inside you, head falling to the pillow with a string of unabashed moans and back arching as he thrust it in and out of your tight entrance, before you suddenly shook and came on his tongue without warning. Katakuri made a contented growl and cleaned your release with his tongue, savouring your taste on it, his eyes closed and face relaxed as he drank you.

“So sweet,” he sighed, running his tongue through your folds once more like he couldn't get enough, “you're not ready for me yet though, I'll have to stretch that sweet tight hole a little more”

You moaned and bucked as he slid two thick fingers inside you, pumping you and scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, taking his time to get you open enough for him. He added a third, his tongue returning to your clit and distracting you from the slight sting of the stretch as he added a forth, the lewd wet squelch of your pussy almost deafening over the soft romantic music as he finger fucked you with increasing speed. One last flick of your clit with his tongue, and you were gushing around his hand, his brows raising in surprise at the volatile release before quickly lapping at it, his hand wet against your thigh as he held you tight to his face and groaned against you.

You were shaking and panting as he finally let your legs go, licking his lips and watching while your hips rolled off the bed, desperate for him to fill you. “Kat, please,” you moaned, “I want you so bad”

“I know my sweet,” he stood at the end of the bed and unzipped his pants teasingly slowly, kicking off his shoes and sliding his pants down till his monstrous cock sprang free, your breath catching in your throat at the sheer size of it. Your thighs rubbed together anxiously, wondering if you could even fit him all inside you. “I can't wait to fill you with my seed,” he purred as he climbed back onto the bed, your eyes greedily scanning every taut muscle that formed his large body, every tight corded bulge and curve that you craved to run your tongue over. You couldn't help but reach between your bodies and take his cock in your hand, so hot and hard, your hand far too small to wrap around it. He groaned and bucked into your palm, precum dripping from the tip as you stroked him experimentally.

“So big,” you whined, “want you to fill me up”

“I will, my sweet,” removing your hand gently as he began to position himself between your legs. Your eyes rolled as his fat tip pressed against your soaked entrance, his precum beading against you and adding to the lubrication. “You're gonna look so good when you're fat and round with my babies,” he purred, pressing into you devastatingly slow, your nails sinking into his forearms to make deep half moons as your pussy stretched around him. “There's a good girl,” he groaned as he fit more and more of his cock inside you, “so tight, so desperate to milk me for all my seed, I'm gonna give it all to you sweet girl”

He grunted and breathed heavy against your shoulder as he bottomed out, feeling the bulge of his own cock inside you as his abdomen pressed against yours. Your thighs shook at the sheer fullness, his cock pressing against every sensitive part of your walls and stretching you impossibly wide, every tiny movement making you whine as he collected himself, trying his best to hold back from immediately slamming into your virgin pussy.

After an age he slowly slid back out, only his tip remaining inside you before penetrating you again. He set a slow, deep pace, your thighs wrapping as best you could around him, pressing your heels to his ass and urging him to go faster. “More,” you whined, “more, please, breed me”

He let out a low groan and nipped your shoulder with his sharp teeth before grabbing your hips and slamming into you. You let out a shrill pleasured scream with every thrust, the entire island would no doubt hear you as he fucked you hard, your smaller body jostling back and forth with every heavy pounding of his fat cock. You screamed as an orgasm ripped through you, Katakuri grabbing the headboard for support as he groaned at the added tightness, never letting up on his brutal pace.

“Yes yes yes yes,” you cried, seeing stars and making deep scratches on his back and chest, back arching of the bed as he growled down at you, watching your tits bounce with every deep thrust, watching the way the membrane around your entrance pushed pulled with every movement, refusing to let his cock go, begging for him to release inside you. He held himself pack, his sheer willpower keeping him on the precipice, determined to make you cum one more time before he would reward himself.

“Gonna- gonna cum again-” you whined, barely able to speak through your panting, eyes glazed over, expression pained with a goofy, fucked out smile as your husband fucked the coherence out of you. Having only ever expressed orgasms by your own hand, you were in absolute nirvana, body tingling with the effects of three orgasms and quickly feeling the approach of a forth. “Want- want your cum- hnng- fil-ll me up, p-please”

“Gonna breed you good baby,” Katakuri groaned, headboard creaking under the strain as his thrusts became erratic and desperate, “fuck, gonna cum too, fuck”

The tightening of your pussy as you came put him over the edge, headboard giving out and snapping violently as he let out a roar and spilled out inside you, the sheer volume of his pent up release combined with his thick cock making cum immediately drip from your hole, Katakuri making final thrusts as your orgasm settled. He stayed inside you as he stilled, pulling back only a little as his cock twitched and made one last deposit, keeping himself as a plug so you had no choice but to accept his cum. You panted hard, laying against the soft mattress, willing your body to open up and accept his seed, willing it to take and make you round with his child.

“I love you,” he finally stuttered through heavy breaths, throwing broken pieces of headboard to the floor, sweeping away wood fragments with his hand and laying beside you, pulling you with him, cock still warm deep inside your cunt. “So beautiful… so sweet for me..”

“I love you too Kat,” you panted, arms wrapping around his neck and face nestling against his while rouge beads of cum slid down your thighs. “But maybe we should invest in a stronger bed,” you giggled.

[sunkissedbedard]

late nights | nico hischier

a/n: i have risen from the dead ! i wrote this fic inspired by one of my old ones from my previous blog and thought who better to write for this than our beloved nico ! not edited so i apologize for any mistakes ! i hope you enjoy & please send in requests ! 🤎

warnings: none! absolute fluff 🤎🧸

tags: dad!nico x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The wails of your newborn stirred you awake from your peaceful sleep. It had become a routine, the moment you had found a position that was comfortable for your healing body and your eyes grew heavy, the deafening sound of an upset newborn brought you right to your feet, rushing into the nursery to aid your newest addition to your growing family. What had made it even better, the clock on your nightstand had read three-thirty-five, exactly twenty-four minutes since the last time you had gotten up to soothe your daughter to sleep. 

You drag your hands down your face, then up towards your hair, entangling your fingers within and pushing it out of your face in frustration. Becoming a parent was something you had always dreamt of when marrying Nico. You knew from the moment your relationship grew serious that he was going to be the father to your children. But the extensive diaper changing, shocked you; who knew a small human could make that much of a mess, simply from breast milk. You knew you were going to be a good mother, learning each day that your daughter grew, but when all of your diaper changes, feeding, cuddling and soothing went to waste by the loud, heart-wrenching wails, it made you doubt your abilities. You questioned what it was that you were missing to decode the newborn, and how others made it seem so simple. 

You had tried every “New Mommies Club” suggestions, articles from professionals, and even resorted to your own Mother’s tactics; letting your baby cry herself to sleep. 

That lasted a mere five minutes before Nico urged you to check on your daughter, warning that he would find a way past the door you barricaded with your body, whether you were in the way or not. 

You listened to your daughter let out one more scream before both Nico and you cradled her and rocked her to sleep. 

You quietly padded your feet along the dark, hardwood floors of your bedroom, slowly pulling the door to the hallway open, being mindful of your husband, Nico soundly sleeping with his back turned to face away from you. However, that was after he had gained your attention by planting soft kisses to your shoulder to wake you and alert you of your crying daughter. 

Walking the short distance to your daughter’s nursery across the hallway of your home, you push the door open, seeing your daughter maneuver beneath her zipped up sleep onesie. As you approached, and turned the dim light beside her crib on, you watched her mouth open with a distressed look on her face, letting out a tired cry, making your heart ache and tears well in your eyes. You wished it was easier, you wished you could have a simple solution to allow her to sleep, yet nothing seemed to work. 

Your bottom lip pushes out as you pout and reach to grab your daughter from her crib, bringing her close to your chest and instinctively rocking her softly. Her cries were muffled by her face being against your chest, but she still let out soft whines. 

You rubbed your hand against the fabric of her onesie, making more attempts to put her to sleep while pacing the room. By surprise, it hadn’t worked, so you walked towards the reading chair Nico and you had placed in the nursery when decorating for your expecting child. 

Pulling a blanket from the basket beside the chair onto your lap and up to your shoulders to provide your baby and you more heat and comfort, you hum her favourite lullaby to calm her. 

After finishing the song, you planted a kiss to the top of her soft, peach-fuzz hair, “my angel,” you cooed, “please do Mommy a favour and go to sleep, it’ll be so good for you.” you attempted, although you knew she wouldn’t understand a single word that came out of your mouth. Your daughter still fidgeted in your grasp, making small noises, which you knew meant she wasn’t tired. 

“Why doesn’t Mommy pass our little munchkin over to her Daddy so he can try to put her to sleep?” You hear from the doorframe. You look over to see a shirtless, half-asleep Nico rubbing his eye to come to his senses as he enters the room to where you were, reaching his arms out towards you. 

You frown with empathy, knowing Nico’s efforts were because of his delicate and precise attention to you. It’s what you loved most about him. He knows every little quirk and pet peeve you have, knows you inside and out, so when he watches you carefully hand your daughter over him, he gives you a sad smile, seeing the exhaustion written on your face. 

Your daughter was only just past three months old, and ever since she has entered the world, she has been destined to be Daddy’s princess, and Nico loved it. He knew there would never be a moment missed where he wouldn’t do anything for his daughter. 

Nico placed your daughter against his bare chest, whispering soothing words into her little ear as he slowly paced the nursery, and after only a few minutes of you watching Nico work his magic, your daughter was sound asleep in her crib, and the two of you exited quietly back to your own bedroom. 

Nico finds himself under the covers again, the duvet covering just up to his hips, exposing his bare and toned chest, and you slide yourself into bed, laying against his chest with his arm falling behind your back, rubbing your side. 

“I don’t get it,” you mumbled against Nico’s chest, feeling the vibration of your own voice reverberate against your cheek and Nico chuckles at your remark.

“She’s a Daddy’s girl, what can I say?” 

“It’s not fair,” you protest, “just wait until we have a boy, then he’ll be all over me and want nothing to do with you.” You affirm with a confident nod, lifting yourself up to look into your husband’s eyes. 

Nico only grins, revealing his mood-changing smile, making your heart melt. 

“So you want to have another? You just gave birth, which is pretty life-changing if you asked me.” 

You shrug nonchalantly, “only 2 more months until we can start trying again. I want to keep making mini-versions of us.” You smiled. 

“I would give anything and everything to continue growing our family with you.” Nico says as he reaches his hand to your cheek, pulling your face down to his and connecting your lips into a soft, but intimate kiss.

You both pull away at the same time, cheekily grinning at one another.

“Anything and everything.”

[viking-raider]

Syverson Family War

Summary-> You've just gotten off a 12-hour shift at the hospital, only to return home and get swept up into a Syverson Family War, between your husband and three children.

Pairing-> Austin "Sy" Syverson/Reader

Word Count-> 3.2k

Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Light Teasing, Soft!Sy, SAHD!Sy, Nurse!Reader

Inspiration-> This Instagram Video (If this isn't Sy vibes, idk who Sy is!)

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

You were more than excited to be home after a nearly twelve hour shift at the hospital. Your back throbbed and your feet were screaming at the top of their arches from running up and down the ER department. You didn’t even bother gathering up your tote of stuff, as you got out of your car, since you had the next two days off. So, they would wait until a two hour long bubble bath and a nap with eternity.

But upon entering your modest, two story Ranch house, you were bombarded by silence. Your eyes narrowed as they scanned the dining room to your left and living room to your right, ears pricking up for the slightest movement from the bedrooms upstairs.

Something was clearly off. It was almost never this quiet in the Syverson household.

There was always some sort of ruckus or chaos in motion. Your husband blasting music in the garage, where he had set up a small work-out area or telling off whatever game was playing on the enormous tv in the living room. If it wasn’t Sy, it was a combination of your three kids. Your two boys wrestling each other over a toy or giggles, or your daughter discovering a new, little critter from the backyard and bringing it in, before promptly losing it. Or all three kids getting into mischief with each other somehow.

But when it was silent, you knew there were real shenanigans afoot.

You drew in a deep breath, mustering what energy you had left inside yourself, for Syverson Madness. “Guys! I’m home!” You called out, swinging the front door shut with a little more strength than usual, as you moved a step deeper into the powderkeg. “What are you nuts up to?” You mumbled to yourself, moving towards the living room, still trying to keep yourself alert for any kind of trap or scare.

Little good it did, as a strong hand suddenly grabbed your elbow and yanked you backwards into the dark portal of the laundry room door, with a yelp. The hand shifted to your mouth and the door closed with a soft click.

“Ssshh.” Sy cooed at you, moving his hand away. “Gotta keep quiet, Sugar Butt.” He chuckled at you.

You could hear the smirk on his bearded face, before he clicked on the tactical flashlight he was carrying. You looked him over in the dim light, discovering him in his full Army tactical gear, minus his bare feet. He even sported his night vision goggles clipped to his helmet.

“What in the he-” You were about to demand, scanning him again, but spotted one of your son’s Nerf Rifles strapped to his back. “Give me that!” You huffed, gobsmacked, as you took the light and started checking him and the laundry room out. “Good Lord, Almighty!” You laughed, shaking your head.

He had a Nerf pistol in his thigh holster, a pump gun on the dryer, a blaster beside that, and copious amounts of ammo on the washer, with pop grenades. Which you knew were filled with either baby powder or flour from the last time a Syverson War had been declared on the house.

You looked up at your husband, bottom lip trapped between your teeth for a moment. “How long has World War Syverson Seven been going?” You asked, completely amused by how lost Sy got into playing with your kids, and how much they loved it when he did.

Sy looked at his watch. “Since just after breakfast. Myles chose violence and shot Ada in the back, while she was trying to color a picture. Tears ensued, which caused Colt to declare revenge on Myles, in Ada’s name.”

“You got roped into this, how?”

“Ada got in on it, insisting she didn’t need a man to defend her honor…”

“That’s my girl.” You chuckled, smirking.

“It is.” Sy laughed back. “But, in defending her own honor, she shot me in the leg, while I was trying to get them to chill out.”

You nodded your head, seeing all the pieces fall into place. “Which, obviously, by the Syverson Code, requires you to defend your own honor.”

“Obviously, Angel!” Sy answered, faking outrage. “You should know that, after fifteen years!”

“Fifteen years, and I’m still jotting things down in the Syverson Code of Conduct booklet!” You laughed, shaking your head, there were a lot of things Sy lived and would die by.

They were many of the things that made your heart swell with love for the burly, ex-Army vet.

“So, how do I configure into this madness?”

“You just got home from a super long shift, Sugar.” He answered, brow pinching. “You’re an innocent bystander. I just had to save you before one of those hellions out there shot you.”

“My savior.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes and kissing him. “My back and arches appreciate you.”

“The Lair is off limits, per usual.” He informed you. “We just have to make it out of here and upstairs.”

“Quite the way.” You commented, mentally mapping your and Sy’s route out of the laundry room, through the living room and entryway, then finally up the stairs and home free to the master bedroom, which was referred to as the Lair, where you could rest without having to worry about the family war.

“All right, Captain, what’s the plan?”

He gave you the Syverson wink and reached over your head, there was a sharp click and from outside the laundry room, you heard the kids’ screech. Sy had thrown the power switch to the house, plunging it into the darkness. You chuckled, smirking, understanding his tactic now.

“Stay close.” He whispered to you, clicking his ammo to his vest on, before moving to the door. “The enemy is sneaky and uncivilized.” He said, pressing his body against it, listening carefully to the other side.

“Like their father.” You mumbled under your breath with a snort, huddling yourself against his back.

“I’d say more like their mama.” Sy commented back, reaching back to pop you on the bum, then slowly cracked open the door.

You shuffled out after him, casting glances over your shoulder every few seconds. It was easy going, getting through the living room. Sy had defended it mightily throughout the day, so the kids had become shy about entering their father’s domain. You trusted Sy to protect you, from everything, your kids included. Silly as that was to think.

“We have movement at 12!” Sy called out, catching your nine year old, Myles, through his night vision in his fort, consisting of the dining table and chairs that he was hunkered down underneath, belly crawling from one end towards the other, closing the gap between himself and the entryway. “He’s under the table. A sneaky little sniper boy.” He snickered, shouldering the Nerf-AR resting against his side.

You scrunched yourself up behind Sy’s wide and muscular back as Nerf Darts started whizzing by, striking the scuffed wood floor or sticking to the walls. Both Sy and Myles laughed maniacally as they shot at each other; tossing weak insults on top of it.

“Milk drinker!” Myles shouted, hustling to reload.

“Lizard eater!” Sy shot back, smirking.

“Now, boys!” You scolded weakly, snorting.

They continued their assault, Sy guiding you towards a pocket the bottom stairs provided coming down into the foyer, allowing you to take cover and him to shoot through the bars of the steps.

“Are you hit?” You asked, playing along with the game.

“Nothing I’ll die from.” He answered, reloading his weapons. “But, you can be a good nurse and kiss them all better.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“That’s cheating!” Myles yelled out.

“Well, If I was over there, I’d do the same thing to you, Bud!” You called back, planting a kiss on Sy’s cheek, his well-groomed beard tickling your skin.

“An aid relief truce then?” Myles suggested, poking his head out from under the table.

“Certainly not!” Sy barked back, popping a Nerf dart off over his son’s head, sending him scurrying back into his fort. “She’s my nurse! I found her out wandering the battlefield, unprotected. If you wanted her to be your nurse, you should have found her first, yourself!”

“I almost did! Before you kidnapped her!” Myles huffed, hotly. “You’re holding her hostage!” He suddenly insisted. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll rescue you!”

“Oh my, a hostage situation.” You sighed, licking your lips. “I appreciate your devotion, son.”

“Ha.” Sy scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, boy. I’m escorting this lovely lady to the Lair.”

As Sy and Myles argued over who was going to have the pleasure of accompanying you upstairs, you caught a slight movement behind you and Sy, lurking in the darkness of the living room; moving slowly. It vanished behind the couch, and for a moment you thought it was just Aika, but when something popped up over the back of the couch, then quickly ducked down again, you were then positive it wasn’t the old girl. But your Daddy’s girl, Ada. Of all the children, six year old Ada was the most like her father. She’d been attached to Sy’s hip from the moment she left your womb. Hanging on Sy’s every word, movement and action, that sometimes it spooked you.

So, watching her stealth around in the dark of the living room was both impressive, amusing and a tad terrifying. Especially since you knew the little hellion was coming for revenge on her father and brother. There were no alliances between them during a Syverson war. You were the only ally allowed to go between the four of them. Mending wounds, mostly pretend ones, but sometimes there were real ones. Sometimes, you’d team up with one of them, to take on the other three.

“On your six! In the living room, babe!” You warned, snagging the Nerf pistol from Sy’s thigh holster as he reacted, purely by instinct, removing one of his baby powder pop grenades, tossing it behind him without looking, trusting your instruction.

Ada startled, surprised that you had noticed her, followed by a cloud of baby powder obscuring her view. She came to a halt, upon hurdling the back of the couch, in an attempt to overtake you and Sy. You took aim and fired, the Nerf dart hitting her square in the chest.

“Nice shot, hon.” Sy nodded, patting your leg, then called out to his daughter. “Sorry, Cricket, but that’s a kill shot.” He told her, his voice soft, but uncompromising.

Ada huffed, pressing her lips together. “Not fair, Mama isn’t supposed to shoot us! She doesn’t have anything to avenge!” She protested, crossing her arms.

Sy chuckled, cocking his head at her. “Mama has her own special rules in our Wars, you know that, Cricket.”

“I’ll come kiss it better, but you know Daddy’s five minute rule.” You chimed in, feeling bad about it, you honestly hadn’t meant to hit her, it was just a lucky shot.

But rules were rules. You could go and kiss her boo-boo better, allowing her to enter the War game again. However, Sy had made a rule that anyone hit with a Kill Shot had to be dead for at least five minutes, before you could render aid to them.

“All right.” Ada sighed, before flopping to the floor with a dramatic sound.

“Where were we?” Sy asked, then nodded. “Right, Myles, kindly allow me to escort my Nurse upstairs.”

“No deal, Pops.” Myles replied, shaking his head.

“Can I just go upstairs on my own?” You asked, peeking at your son through the spindles of the stairs.

Myles was quiet for a moment, considering. “Only if I get to keep you to myself for an hour!” He finally answered.

“Oh, he drives a hard bargain, that son of yours.” You teased Sy, tickling the back of his neck.

“That he does.” Sy agreed, shivering, as he brewed over Myles' offer. “You can have her for thirty minutes!” He negotiated with him.

“Thirty minutes!” Myles barked in outrage.

“You have to go to bed in two hours, boy!” Sy reminded him.

“So, give her to me for an hour!”

You smirked and pressed your palm to the base of Sy’s neck, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear, so only he could hear you. “Let him have me for the hour, Austin. I’ve been gone for twelve hours, and they have to go to bed in two. It’ll give me a little bit of time with them.” You reasoned with your husband. “We’ll have all night together after they're asleep, and the next two days, when they're at school.”

Sy nodded, rubbing his lips together. “You’re right.” He whispered back to you. “All right, you can have her for an hour, after you let her go upstairs and do what she pleases.”

A muffled yes came from the dining room. “Deal! You’re free to come out, Mama!”

“Thank God! I have to pee really bad.” You chuckled, kissing Sy, before scurrying out of your hiding place with him and started up the stairs, as you reached the top, you wondered where your middle child, Colt, was.

The seven year old was oddly missing in action the whole time the rest of you were battling and negotiating downstairs. As you reached the top, a cry filled the air, startling the life out of you, before a fury of Nerf darts peppered you all over.

“COLT!” You howled at the boy, dashing for your bedroom door and taking cover behind it.

“Colt Nero Syverson!” Sy’s voice called up the stairs. “You know the rules about firing upon your mother!”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Colt’s soft voice whimpered in the dark to you. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s fine, little man.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Just mind yourself.”

“Okay, Ma.” He smiled, ducking back into his hiding place; his room.

“Oh, this family.” You sighed again, closing the door and rushing for the en suite, tugging off your shoes as you went. “Ooo.” You cooed, enjoying the feeling of the icy tile on your bare, throbbing feet.

Bladder empty, you splashed some cool water in your face, then got out of your nursing scrubs, replacing them with a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. You laid down on your and Sy’s enormous bed, dozing off for a couple minutes before getting back up to fulfill the promises you made to Ada and Myles.

“Colt, I’m coming out, please don’t shoot me.” You called through the crack you opened in the bedroom door.

“Okay, Mama!” He called back.

Coming out of the room, you stood at the top of the stairs, but frowned and turned, heading down to Colt’s room. “What are you doing, buddy?” You asked, peeking around the doorframe, seeing he had made a little barricade and was hunkered down behind his bed. “Why haven’t you come down to challenge your dad, brother and sister?”

“Oh, I have, Ma!” He answered, his smile showing off the two front teeth he lost a month before. “I’m just waiting for the most opportune time to go back downstairs to finish off whoever is left.” He sat up on his bed a little more, eyeing you. “How many of them are left?”

You smirked at him, slyly. “You know I’m not allowed to give away information to someone, especially if I’m not teamed up with them, little man.”

“Poop.” He huffed, slapping his mattress and sitting back. “Do you wanna be on my team?” He asked, hopeful.

“Sadly, your Papa had to bargain me off to your brother for an hour, so I could go to the Lair and change.” You informed him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But, how about this? When it’s bedtime, I’ll come and read to you, whatever you want.”

“Eragon!” He gasped, enthralled again.

“Deal.”

“Deal!”

“All right, wee man, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at bed time.” You cooed at him.

You headed back downstairs, pausing on the middle landing. “I’m coming downstairs, don’t shoot!” You announced to Sy and Myles.

“All clear!” They both called back.

You joined them downstairs, finding them just as you left them.

“Mommy, can I be alive again?” Ada called to you from her spot behind the couch.

“Yes, love, I’m coming right now to fix your boo-boo.” You replied, crossing the entryway and leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “There, sweet girl. All healed and alive again. Off you trot. Why don’t you watch a movie on your tablet, until bedtime?”

“Thanks, Mama!” She giggled, hugging your waist, then ran off.

With your daughter resurrected, you joined Myles in the dining room, and despite the soreness in your body, got under the table with him. “Just you, Colt and your Papa now, big man.” You told him, propping your head up on your hand. “Tough crowd.”

“But I got you, Mama.” Myles countered. “You can heal all my wounds.”

“Mm, that I can.” You nodded, casting your eyes past the table legs and made out Sy’s outline. “But, that’s about all the energy I’ve got for you. Bringing your sister back to life took a lot out of me. So, I can’t help you fight either of them.”

“That’s fine. I can finish them.”

You reached out and brushed your fingers through his tamed, black curls. “I have all the faith in the world in you, my sweet boy.” You cooed at him, lovingly.

“Moooom!” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Time’s wastin’, kid!” Sy called out.

“You stay here, mom. I’m gonna sneak around.” Myles said, wiggling back up the table towards the back entry of the kitchen.

“I’ll be here.” You replied, propping your head up on your hand, eyes drooping for a moment.

At least, you thought it was for a moment, until you felt a pair of strong hands grab your ankles and yanked you out from underneath the table, startling you awake from the nap you dozed into.

“Jesus.”

“Naw, just me, Angel.” Sy grinned, helping you up.

“Where’s Myles?” You asked, rubbing at the sleep in your eyes and noticing he wasn’t in his tactical gear anymore, but just a pair of shorts.

“Out cold in bed.” He answered, steadying you with his hands on your hips.

“But…” You frowned, glancing at the stairs over your shoulder.

“Colt came down not long after Myles tried sneaking around me through the kitchen.” Sy explained to you, a proud little glint in his blue eyes. “Took out both of us, the little rascal.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We found you asleep and they understood you had a long day, and would spend time with them tomorrow, after they came home from school.”

You pressed your forehead against his chest. “What in the world would I do without you?” You cooed, sighing heavily.

“I don’t know what we would do without you.” He replied, encasing you in his muscular arms and resting his chin on top of your head, rocking gently. “Let’s go to bed, love.” He whispered, scooping you up off your sore feet and carried you upstairs, to bed.

You moaned softly, sinking into the mattress as Sy tossed the blankets over you and kissed your temple, before joining.

[yandere-sins]

So, uh, this is actually the Sintember story I did... last year :’D It’s a year and four days old, but I had it rotting for so long. Not gonna tag it because the poor mod on Sintember doesn’t need to see something so long off, but I hope you guys enjoy it nevertheless!

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Implied Abuse, Implied Murder), Stalking, Obsessiveness, Posessiveness

Prompt: @/sintember Not again - You thought it was done, it was over. You survived, you moved on. And yet the horror continues. [Part 1]

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

It took the last of your strength to push the door back into its lock, your whole body leaning into the wood to fight off the raging winds outside.

Heaving a deep breath, you leaned against your only defense against the blizzard, chuckling and shaking your head at your own thoughts. Turning around, you faced the firepit in the middle of your cabin, red and orange flames crackling and dancing, the heat licking at your exposed cheeks, the only skin visible beneath the wool and fur keeping you warm outside.

It felt welcoming and inviting, and you sighed. Putting down the firewood you gathered from outside, you hoped it would dry before the flames died. It was a pain to rekindle a lost fire, but you'd manage. You had always managed; neither a blizzard nor an unlit fireplace would bring you down after everything you've been through. In fact, you much preferred it to the challenges of the past. You'd take the raging blizzard and being snowed in all the time over what you experienced at the hands of the madman you had fallen victim to.

Your memories had kept you awake for most of your life, but they saved you more often than you had thought them capable of. They had always kept you alert and careful, gentle but wary. It was sad that none of them could bring a smile to your face, and you envied innocent children and happy villagers alike for their countless, precious memories. But you had none. If they existed, they were horrifying reminders to be cautious. Maybe that was just how your life would always be.

Peeling off the layers of clothing, you sighed at the relief of warmth driving into your shakey bones and icy skin. It had been worth it, in the end, going through all the pain, the misery. Even though the snow reminded you of the cold winter nights spent in prison with your enemy, huddled together out of necessity, you were thankful for the blizzard as it kept you hidden. The feeling of his hands on your body would probably never wash off, but at least now you were alone. Alone and free.

The next village was so far down the mountain that they couldn't even see your little hut. You'd walk two days to reach it, and two to get back, so you kept your visits sparse, the conversations even shorter. The fewer people knew about the ominous person living on the mountain, the better, and you didn't really need them, only occasionally venturing down for a new sewing kit or fruit you've been craving.

Spring and summer were easy to handle, with a stream nearby for water, birds to shoot, and the occasional goat passing by to milk. Since you were all by yourself, you didn't need much, your garden keeping you fed most of the year. But winter was different. In autumn, foraging and harvesting was still easy. However, you'd never get used to the harsh winters alone, praying every day you wouldn't hurt yourself or you'd run out of luck up here.

But regardless, it was safe. That was your main priority. Some may call traversing through three countries before deciding to settle on a lonesome mountain over the top, but you knew better. You knew that if there was even the slightest bit of chance that your enemy could find out where you were, he would. So, you took the challenges of survival every day in return for your freedom. At least, it had worked. You'd been rid of him for years now, and you doubted that would change any time soon.

Poking the fire, the sparks flying through the air elated you.

You had found solace in the little things, like a burning fire, a hearty stew, plucking the first carrots you grew in your garden and eating the masses of pickled vegetables you cultivated. While you were busy, you didn't think of the past, didn't agitate the wounds it left. Perhaps it was too optimistic to say you were healing from the trauma and the misery, but at least you weren't confronted by it every day. Sometimes, ignorance truly was bliss.

And you deserved peace, until the last second.

After stretching your arms over your head, you leaned down to place the firewood near the pit, hoping it would be dry by the time you'd wake up to stoke the flames again. You looked forward to sleeping in your bundle of blankets, most of them knitted by you and warm as an oven when you slipped beneath them. Maybe tomorrow, the blizzard would have lifted, and you could see if there was any damage to your cabin that needed your attention as long as the good weather lasted before returning to the warmth and safety inside. Every day you got to plan it all by yourself for yourself, but you wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

That's why you jumped at the loud bang against the wood, halting in your tracks, wondering if you misheard. Maybe the blizzard had thrown a branch against your door? It couldn't be possible for anyone to come to visit in this weather, and wanderers would have to get far off the main trail across the mountain to reach your hut as well.

Bang, bang, bang!

This time, you were sure what you heard wasn't a coincidence. No branch or storm would make three consequent drums, with noticeable space in between. You felt your breath hitch as you stood there, motionlessly. Part of you wanted to inquire who it might be, but a bigger part just wanted to stand in silence, hoping they'd leave. There were many dangers when living alone, even if only a single one truly scared you.

"H-Hello?" someone called out from outside. The voice was shivering but youthful, and you felt a knot tie in your stomach at the thought it might be a lost child caught in the blizzard. You took a few cautious steps forward, listening, hoping for a sign that it was safe to open the door.

"Hello? I- I am lost... is there a place to rest tonight? Please, it's so very cold!"

Gnawing on your lip, you made a decision. Anyone daring to thread on a mountain in a snowstorm was foolish and weary of life. Still, they didn't deserve the freezing cold misery that would be dying in the blizzard. You unlocked the door, mourning the loss of warmth you'd experience any second now as you invited the cold and the stranger in, but you couldn't be responsible for their death either.

To your surprise, when you swung the door open, it wasn't the frame of a young teenager or that of a child that awaited you. The figure was lanky but hulking, covered in more clothes than even you had worn. The fur covered all of their body, face hiding behind a mask and under a hat, and the darkness made it hard to see their eyes. They didn't wait for you to invite them in, their body shaking as they took a deep, cold breath before they stomped their snow-covered boots into your wooden cabin.

You let them pass you, too surprised by their appearance to react. You honestly had expected someone younger, more fragile. Not someone seemingly in good health and strong. And thus the stranger stood, thickly veiled in fur and clothes that should have kept them warm but were now dripping as the snow clinging to them melted in the middle of your home, positioned like a statue.

"I-I'll get you a towel and a blanket," you mumbled, shaking out of the confusion and surprise. They still needed help, and though they appeared fine, you knew how tricky snow-related illnesses could be unless you prevented them at the earliest possibility.

Walking to your closet to grab what you needed, you listened to the shuffle of clothes behind you, not minding the stranger stripping out of their snow gear now that they were in the warm safety of your home. You were looking through your options, the presence of another person in your lonely life feeling strange, yet you were too focused on providing help to them to notice the floorboards behind you creaking.

"Found you~"

You yelped as ice-cold hands wrapped over your eyes, letting go of the blanket over your arm as you clawed at the stranger. Suddenly, the voice was much clearer and less youthful, and you were pulled back into a body that felt oddly familiar against yours.

"What are you--" you hissed angrily, prying the hands off your face and falling forward into your closet, hitting your temple against the wooden shelving inside. However, your body knew better, from years of experience, than to falter under the sharp pain, and you twisted around, looking into a scarily familiar face.

"Long time no see, my darling."

Your mouth felt like it had been filled with sand. You couldn't even gulp as you stared wide-eyed at your enemy, the very same one you ran from years ago. The exact same one you never wanted to see again.

"It was kind of cruel to leave me hanging, back at the prison, you know? It was so cold and so lonely without you, so I came looking for you the moment I was free. Ehh~? Did I make you speechless? Are you that happy to see me?"

"No..." you muttered, shaking your head. That couldn't be happening. No. No, no, no.

"You shouldn't be here... you can't be here! I left you... I left you there to rot! I traveled so far, how... How is this possible?!"

Even as your voice bordered on hysteric screeching, you felt the tears of frustration and defeat burn in your eyes. Your whole world shattered as you watched your enemy heave a sigh, his expression turning gentle, empathetic. Reaching out his hands he brushed them along your arm, your cheek, the cold prickling where your skin met. You flinched, jerking back, and he followed, always one step behind you. He was a liar, a complete and absolute liar, and you knew it from the moment he placed his thumb on your cheekbone, wiping away the tears. There was no bone in him that pitied you; his body and mind were filled with glee as he watched your misery bloom.

"Oh, dear."

Closing in, he trapped you between him and the closet, his cold hands cupping your face gently, but his nails dug into the back of your neck possessively. He won, and you both knew it.

"I told you I'll always find you. Took me a while this time, but you can't run from me. You're mine, remember?"

Oh, you remembered. You remembered too well the days lived in fear and the nights spent huddled together on the prison ground, forced into his arms out of need of warmth. The day the guards released you was the one where you swore you'd change your life around. That you'd no longer live in the perpetual horror this man installed.

But here you were as if nothing had changed at all. As if the years running had lost all their meaning.

"I'm so cold, darling," he whispered, even his breath was icy as he leaned in for a kiss. You knew exactly what he longed for, even if you didn't want to give it to him. He wanted the same submission, the same relenting as you had given him in prison, where you allowed him his freedom to assault you with his love. Where you couldn't have fought him even if you wanted to. And now that he had found you, you realized he hadn't changed at all. All he ever wanted was to change your life into the life he always envisioned for you two, where you were his slave, and he had free reign over you, finally getting what he had always wanted.

Your eyes darted to your bedside table.

"It's warmer under the covers," you mumbled against his lips, and he chuckled, rubbing his chapped skin against yours playfully.

"I didn't think you'd be this direct. I like it. Come, darling."

You allowed your enemy to lead you to the bed before climbing on his lap and gripping his hair to force his head back. "Where's this coming from?" he chuckled, and you felt sick just hearing his licentious voice. "No worries, I'll let you hold the reigns if it's what you want. At least for a while."

You'd hear no more words from his filthy mouth or stare any longer into the darkness swirling in his eyes. This had to come to an end, one way or another, but true to his word, he allowed you to guide him to lay down in your bed, hands falling to your thighs and grabbing at your ass. You felt the excitement tenting his pants beneath you, and you knew that in his delusion, he truly thought this was the moment you were caving to his desires, his demands of love that never existed between you two.

But instead, you slipped your hand into the drawer of your bedside table, feeling the cold steel of the knife you kept there for protection. Your past self had been so afraid of him showing up that you couldn't sleep without feeling it. Finally, your anxiety paid off.

You had learned your lesson; the fear would never stop as long as either of you were alive. You'd never be far enough away, never safe, never heal, and never truly be free unless one of you was dead. No one would find his corpse hidden on this mountain; no one would come looking for him, you were sure. And neither would they for you.

You thought you had done a great job getting away; had started to move on and get over what happened to you. But you hadn't. You couldn't do it again. Couldn't endure the horror to continue all your life and couldn't run away far enough to escape it.

You couldn't do it. Not again.

Never again.

[santrrl]

hello! i love your writing!!! saw your requests are open. logan with a reader with physical mutations? something like mystique or morph but they can’t turn it off. how do you think logan would comfort reader? thank you!!

Thank you sm 😭🩷!! And of course <33 I kinda based it on a mix of Randall from monsters Inc and mystique where if the reader has high emotions or scared than they shift if that's alright !!<3 as always bullet points and then another short ? Fic :)

L.H X MORPHING! READER

-the first time he sees you he ignores you, as you're just new, why would he see you different?

-until the outside of you turns slightly purple from embarrassment, as you were gawking at him.

-he turns around expecting mystique or something, but deep down he knows she isn't like this.

-as the days go past and you know eachother, sometimes he leaves out things to scare you to see if your mutation is truly reactive or not.

-fucker knows its mean but he probably pays kurt to jump out at you on the first day knowing you've not seen him before.

-things like fake mice, or your favourite foods in the fridge (don't ask how he knows he just knows.) Just to see you turn a color, or physically droop in dread, like a Bassett hound.

-it kinda amuses him, you being like a cartoon character sometimes, so he's not too hard on you. Hell now you're practically jumping out of your room fighting incase logan had planned to scare you.

-he's not the only one doing pranks though, if you're walking around blue from nervousness best know he's gonna ask you. "What's wrong bub? Whose scaring ya?" Teasingly, but if he had your mutation he would've went red hearing that Scott had left a note saying 'watch out' as a joke.

-HUNTEDDD Scott down and 'talked to him'. Against a wall. And against Scott's will.

-safe to say you weren't turning invisible anytime soon from him.

-if you ever got upset at it he'd definitely run to you.

-"Bub look at me, it's not that bad. If I can see I can help."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

-he secretly loves being able to see if you're okay or not because it gives him an excuse to be a hero to you

-if you're genuinly considering the vaccine that eventually gets out, he goes nuts. You're on the couch he's pacing like an angry father. "Like...why would you even? Theres- i- what. We're you. Thinking." He's so mad he doesn't even know what to say.

-hell pick you up and just kiss you at that point and say "no." Really angrily before leaving

It'd been a few months since you'd joined the school, familiar with everyone, but mainly Logan and colossus, as they were the ones you trusted most. Once the news started getting wind of you mutation and that you'd joined the xmen, you didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

"Newest xmen recruit.." "xmen seems to have dissapeared.." "should we be worried?" "I saw them go up and it was like...so cool mr news man! Like it disappeared" said many news stations, and you weren't exactly accustomed to being one of the trending tumblr tags.

"Bub, pete." Came Logans voice as he entered the kitchen. "Hello, logan." "Lo' " you smiled, yellow slightly entering your arms and chest. "You see the news?" He scoffed, leaning on the counter. "Yes.." you groaned laughing

As you all chit chatted, it was only a matter of time before Charles had called you to his office, some monthly test thing or something.

Colossus whom had almost never left his steel form anymore simply stayed put, knowing he was excluded, and you and logan went trodding to his office. "Scott giving you more hassle?" He grumbled quietly. "Nope.." you sighed. "Nothing I consider harassment." You smiled at him.

The day went on, test and test, and eventually it was time to go to bed, for you at least. Waving bye, you walked through the corridors, careful not to alert any children, before reaching your room. Laying there you felt off. Was it the test? Was it charles? Lo?

You couldn't get your mind off of it, and by now you were practically lilac, so you went up to find logan. As you trodded however you heard voices down the stairs behind your room.

"What the.." you'd start, and as you walk down, you saw something that made you turn invisible at the second. Logan had Scott in a mean chokehold, and you knew he was too mad to go near. So thus? You kept invisible. Stripped off all your clothes and walked down. The clothes would've made it obvious that you were there.

"Wanna repeat what the fuck you've been telling my girl huh?" You heard the struggle. His girl? The way he said it implied he was mocking Scott but...

"Cmon!" He groaned, before Scott slipped out and nearly fell straight onto you as he walked. "Listen ill leave her alright!? I just...wanted to take my mind off you know." He frowned as he turned and stormed off.

Forgetting completely you weren't supposed to be there, you spoke up. "So what was that about?" And logan nearly jumped at you in response. "Jesus, christ why are you here?" He groaned still pissed. "I got nosy." You shrugged.

"Wait."

"What lo?"

"Are you naked?"

".....maybe"

"Fucksake."

I WROTE ON PHONE SO SORRY<÷<3<3

[pucksandpower]

Hi! Can i req a soft launch with carlos sainz? Thank you🖤

Carlos Sainz x girlfriend!Reader - Instagram AU

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, and 12,638 others

yourusername gracias españa

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yourbestfriend girl i think we missed a chapter

yourusername hmm no i don’t think so

yoursister who? what? when? where?

yourusername someone. something. sometime. somewhere

carlossainz55

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 407,592 others

carlossainz55 taking advantage of summer shutdown

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landonorris wow no invite?

carlossainz55 no children allowed

carlandostan pls 😭

f1wagupdates new wag alert???

holysainz maybe they’re just friends

ticktocktifosi it must be nice being delusional

yourusername

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yourusername what a view

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yoursister does he have a brother?

yourbestfriend yep i get it now

gridgossip carlos liked 👀

paddockgirlie i saw that too but men are allowed to just be friends with women. we shouldn’t overanalyze

gridgossip i’m pretty sure that’s him in the photo though

carlossainz55

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 412,785 others

carlossainz55 an art appreciation post

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charles_leclerc smooth operator coming through

chillingwithchilli please tell us what you know

f1wagupdates i both love and hate soft launches

fightingferrari same! they’re so romantic but at the same time i want to know who it is right away

yourusername

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yourusername living my best life by your side

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yourbestfriend red is your color

yourusername i’ll be wearing it more often very soon

gridgossip carlos has been liking every single post, she posted from spain not long ago, she posted the back of a man who looks a lot like carlos, and now she posts a ferrari? it’s not a coincidence

f1wagupdates wait … could this be the girl he’s posting about?

carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 i found heaven in your eyes

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sainzmeup we can’t even see her face but the way carlos is looking at her omg 🥺

gridgossip we know it’s y/n. just give it up already!

club55 like it’s so obvious

ferrariflex maybe they want to do it on their own time. they’re entitled to as much privacy as they would like

yourusername

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yourusername six months with you ❤️

tagged carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 can’t wait for many more to come, mi amor

yourbestfriend six months and still no double date

yourusername during the off-season, i promise

gridgossip i knew it!

f1wagupdates finally!!!

carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 her first Grand Prix was one to remember

tagged yourusername

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yourusername so proud of you, my love

charles_leclerc thank god y/n finally came! i thought you were going to talk my ears off about her

tifositalk carlos is in his simp era confirmed

scuderiaferrari our new good luck charm

yourusername he doesn’t need luck but i’m always happy to help

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 42

The painting above is "Goodnight Hug," created by one of my favorite artists, Mary Cassatt. This piece is part of her renowned "Mother and Child" series, which includes a variety of paintings, pastels, and prints exploring the intimate and tender relationships between mothers and their children. These works are among her most celebrated and significant contributions to the art world.

Cassatt, Mary. Goodnight Hug. 1890. The New Yorker, 22 Mar. 1999, www.newyorker.com/magazine/1999/03/22/cassatts-children. Accessed June 28, 2024.

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 5.2K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

The gentle warmth of the April sun caressed your face as you reclined on the Townhouse balcony. You had taken it upon yourself to fill every inch of open space with a plethora of plants, each one showing off its first blossoms. Your prized purple hyacinths thrived and were now in full bloom, their fragrance filling the air.

The creak of the door handle alerted you to someone's approach, but you didn't bother turning around. At this early hour, there was only one possible person - Azriel, returning from his intense training session with Cassian. His strong hands landed on your shoulders in a comforting squeeze as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Good morning," he murmured against your hair.

You turned to face him, smiling up at him. "Morning!"

Azriel settled onto the chaise lounge beside yours, still dressed in his training leathers. His ebony curls were slicked back, held in place by beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He stretched out his wings behind him, basking in the warm sunlight. With a slight lean, he unbuckled his shin pads and tossed them aside with a clatter. Then, he extended one arm towards you, silently asking for help removing his vambrace. As you carefully unlatched it, your fingers traced over the red marks left imprinted on his skin from the tight straps.

“You know, you probably don’t need to pull them that tight,” you remarked as you threw the leather straps onto the ground. Azriel flung his other arm over to you in response.

“I also don’t need them sliding down when Cassian is actively trying to stab me with a broadsword,” he quipped back with a playful smirk.

As the second piece came free in your hands, you scrunched your face in concentration and shrugged. With a clang, the brace fell to the ground as you leaned back in your chaise, closing your eyes to bask in the warm sun on your face. Azriel pulled back his arm, running his hands over the damp, sweaty skin that had been trapped by the armor. The two of you sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes before you broke it with a question.

“Good session?”

“It was fine,” Azriel responded nonchalantly.

“Anything worth noting?”

Azriel let out a slight chuckle before answering, “I’m probably going to have a nasty bruise on my back tomorrow. Cassian whacked me pretty hard with that practice sword.”

You turned your head to face him, one eye opening while the other stayed shut against the brightness of the sun. “Need me to take a look?”

Azriel shook his head, “Nothing to see. Just a red mark right now.”

“Did you hit him back?” You asked, turning back to soak up more rays.

“Oh yeah. He’ll have a bruise of his own. Probably a couple,” Azriel replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

“Well, as long as you evened the playing field,” you concluded with a smile.

The warm rays of the sun kissed your skin, drawing out a contented sigh from you. After a long and harsh winter, the people of Velaris were finally basking in the glorious sunlight. From balconies to parks to the sidewalks, everyone seemed to be seeking out its gentle embrace.

"Did you just get up?" Azriel's smooth voice interrupted your peaceful thoughts.

You shifted in your chair, feeling the ache from sitting in the same position for too long. "Probably an hour ago," you replied tiredly.

Azriel chuckled at your disheveled appearance. "An hour awake and still in your pajamas," he teased.

You shot him a glare, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. The male was sprawled across the chaise like a lazy cat, his wings spread open behind him.

"I have nowhere to be," you retorted, turning back towards the sun.

"Laziness," Azriel playfully scolded.

"Hey now," you countered, "I see no reason to get dressed when there's no one to impress."

Azriel opened one eye and smirked at you. "You used to wear such beautiful dresses when we first got together."

"And you used to shower after training sessions before coming to see me," you reminded him with a laugh. "We've both gotten too comfortable with each other."

Azriel let out a deep chuckle from his chest. "You started it when you asked me to check on that red mark on your ass."

You scoffed, "Who else was I going to ask? You're down there often enough."

"Oh trust me," Azriel said with a sly grin, "your face-down-ass-up position is definitely a turn on for me. But when you asked me if the red dot on your butt looked infected and then made me touch it...well, let's just say I've never been more flaccid in my life."

Your eyes widened as you turned to face him. "You brought it up!" you accused, trying to imitate his deep voice. "You said, 'Hey, you have another nipple on your butt.'"

"I was just letting you know," Azriel defended himself with a chuckle. "It's not like you could see it!"

You couldn't hold back your laughter, the sound ringing out like music. "But seriously," you asked in sincerity, "did it go away?"

Azriel turned his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Let me see and I'll tell you," he replied with a wink.

"Oh," you raised an eyebrow, your voice taking on a playful tone, "so my body ailments are a turn on for you?"

"And just like that," Azriel sighed dramatically, "you ruined it." He leaned back and closed his eyes again, a smirk resting on his cheeks.

—

You stood in the elegant foyer of Whispering Haven, the first apartment complex you had built specifically for pleasure makers. The walls were adorned with parchment paper, filled with colorful scribbles and drawings from the children who called this place home. The front hall was a chaotic mess of abandoned toys, like a battlefield of stuffed animals and dolls. You smiled warmly as two little girls came bounding down the stairs on wooden stick horses, their laughter echoing through the space. Titania, the manager of Whispering Haven, called out to them with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Bryn and Oriel, when one of you comes tumbling down those stairs, don't come crying to me with those big tears! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, don’t be running on those steps!"

You chuckled lightly at her words. She turned back to you, slightly out of breath as she pulled a pen out of her red bun.

"I swear those two will be the death of me. Alright, where were we?" She asked, glancing down at the book in your hands.

"So we have seven new applications for housing," you began, dragging your finger down the list. "Three of them are single mothers with young children, one is a single father with his son who just turned thirty, and the remaining three are single women."

"We ain't got the space to take on all four here right now," Titania sighed.

You furrowed your brow in thought. "Is anyone planning on moving out soon?"

She shrugged. "Meliora mentioned something about wanting to move into something more permanent on her own in the next few months, but she's been saying that since she got here."

"I could check in with Relon over at the other house," you suggested. "She might have availability to take on at least one or two."

"If the single females are willing to have roommates, I could take on two of them," Titania offered.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the book in your hands and slowly looked around the room. The realization that you had somehow made this place come to life hit you like a ton of bricks. "I'll make some inquiries," you murmured to

yourself, trying to center your thoughts. Suddenly, Titania's voice broke through your trance.

"How you doing doll?" she asked, her ruby red lips already stained with lipstick.

"What?" you replied, raising your eyebrows as you turned to face her.

She smirked at you, "I feel like I ain't seen you in a while."

You shrugged and let out a small laugh, "We see each other like three times a week."

"Yeah, but I mean actually talk to you. Not just about this stuff" She gestured to the room around you.

You smiled sheepishly at her, "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

Titania reached out and ran a bony hand down your arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright, love," she said kindly. "You have time for a cuppa?" Her eyes lit up with excitement at the thought.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. In reality, you had about seven other things on your to-do list for today, but Titania was right - you had been so caught up in everything that you hadn't made time to actually see her. You followed her down the hallway and past the stairs into the large industrial-sized kitchen. With fourteen females and two males with children, as well as two single males living under one roof, the kitchen had to be massive. As you walked in, you saw Bryn and Oriel perched under the kitchen table, their stick horses tied to the counter handle as if it were a hitching post. They were giggling and playing together happily. Titania's heels clicked against the floor as she made her way to the stove, flicking on the burner and placing a kettle on top. You reached up to grab two mismatched tea cups from the cupboard. Each one was donated from a different store or restaurant in the city, but somehow it all came together to create a charming and eclectic collection. After all, no one living in the house matched each other either.

With a surge of courage, Oriel emerged from under the table and scurried over to Titania, her tiny hands tugging on the silk of her dress. Titania turned to look at her with surprise. "May I be of assistance, ma'am?" She asked incredulously.

"Could I have a snack," Oriel whispered eagerly.

Titania's eyes widened in shock. "A snack?" She exclaimed loudly. "But didn't I just feed you and Bryn lunch not even an hour ago?"

Oriel giggled mischievously, her eyes sparkling. "Yes, but I'm hungry again."

"No, no ma'am, I didn't just feed you for my own enjoyment," Titania scolded gently. "I distinctly remember you saying that you were too full to finish your sprouts."

"But now I'm hungry again," Oriel insisted, swaying back and forth on her heels and toes.

Titania rolled her eyes and placed her red tipped hands on her hips. "What am I going to do with you?" She muttered in exasperation.

Oriel simply laughed as Bryn crawled out from under the table to join her friend. "Bryn wants some too," Oriel announced proudly.

You had heard about Bryn, the nearly forty-year-old child who had never spoken a word to anyone. Some said it was because she had learned to stay quiet when her mother was soliciting males. Others believed she just couldn’t speak at all. It broke your heart to think of such a shy and isolated soul trapped in her own mind. But Oriel seemed unfazed by it all - in fact, she talked enough for both herself and Bryn. And despite their differences, Oriel was fiercely protective of Bryn. You had seen on more than one occasion Oriel straddling a boy twice her size, tiny fists wailing down on them after they had been bullying Bryn.

"Of course she does" Titania replied, looking down at the two happy, albeit dirty, faces. She glanced between them before sighing and turning to the cabinet, retrieving two wafer cookies from a jar. "Now if I give you these, will you promise to eat all of your dinner tonight?" She held the treats just out of reach from their eager hands.

The two girls nodded eagerly, bouncing up on their toes.

"I mean it, Bryn. All of your beans," Titania warned sternly. Bryn nodded in agreement. "I don't want your mothers coming to me later saying you didn't finish your dinner."

The girls promised to remember and Titania handed over the cookies with a smile. They scampered off happily as Titania called after them, "And don't go telling any of the other children that I gave you snacks. I don't want to spend the rest of my day playing snack dispenser." But the girls were already out of earshot, giggling and sharing their treats. Titania let out an exasperated sigh, her vibrant eyes rolling as she deftly plucked a wafer cookie from the plate and popped it into her mouth. She turned to face you, gracefully sinking into the plush chair across the long dining room table. The fragrance of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. Titania poured the steaming water into two waiting cups, the gentle clinking of porcelain filling the quiet room.

"So," she began, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her tea. "How have you been?"

You cradled your warm cup in your hands, letting the steam rise up and envelop your face. "Busy," you replied with a small smile. "But good."

Titania's warm smile mirrored yours as she took a sip from her cup. You couldn't help but marvel at how she never seemed to burn her tongue despite never waiting for her tea to cool. "And you and that guard?" she asked, raising a perfectly groomed brow.

With a roll of your eyes, you corrected her. "He's not a guard. He's the spymaster."

A mischievous glint appeared in Titania's eyes as she teased, "As long as he wears those tight pants, he can call himself whatever he wants."

You couldn't hold back a soft chuckle as you took a sip of your own drink. "He's very skilled at his job."

"I didn't ask about his skills," Titania clarified with an amused smirk. "I asked about the two of you. But if you want to share about the skills he has feel free." Titania winked at you.

Peering up at her through your lashes, you responded coyly, "We're doing well."

"How well?" Titania leaned an elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm.

"Very well." You arched an eyebrow playfully.

Titania grinned at you and cocked her head. "And he takes good care of you?"

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of your partner. "Very much so."

"And do you feel safe?" Titania inquired, her tone soft and caring. "With him?"

You nodded emphatically, a sense of security washing over you. "Absolutely."

"I'm glad to hear that, my dear." Titania reached across the table and squeezed your hand affectionately.

“What about you?” You asked. “How are things?”

Titania scoffed and motioned around the room, “This is how things are.” You laughed lightly. “I have a roof over my head, a belly full of food and for the first time, no odd rashes in my nether regions.”

After you had opened the first apartment complex, you had offered Titania the position of manager in hopes of getting her out of Pleasure Making. It was clear that the physical toll of the business was taking its toll on her aging body. Although hesitant at first, she eventually accepted the offer and now managed the complex full-time. And now, seeing her in this new role, you couldn't help but feel proud of her.

“I’m glad,” you sighed contentedly, smiling at her.

Her gaze drifted up to your forehead and she clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “What about your mate?” she inquired, pointing to your head. “Still causing trouble?”

You looked upward as if searching for an answer within your own mind. “Not as much,” you admitted. “I think I’ve finally learned how to block him out or maybe he’s just getting quieter.” You shrugged. “Regardless, I’ll take it.”

“Good,” Titania nodded approvingly, leaning back into her chair. “I’m glad to hear that.” She fell silent for a moment before asking tentatively, “And what about finding him? Have there been any leads?”

You shook your head sadly. Azriel had done everything in his power to locate Caelum and bring him to justice for Kai's murder, but the elusive male seemed to have vanished without a trace. You could only hope that he was far away or suffering in some dark, lonely cavern. "

“I'm sorry,” Titania said with genuine sympathy, her expression hardening at the mention of Caelum.

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to brush off the weight of the past. “It doesn't matter anymore,” you confessed. “I'm happy where I am now.”

Titania's smile softened into one of understanding. “The best revenge is not letting him affect you.”

“I don't even care about revenge,” you admitted, shaking your head as you stared into your steaming cup of tea. “I'm just grateful for where I am now.”

You couldn't bring yourself to tell Titania about Philip and the truth behind his identity. Part of you didn't want to know if she had been aware all along, and another part wanted to hold onto the blissful ignorance of pretending she didn't know. Perhaps one day, if the opportunity presented itself, you would ask her. But for now, it was enough to bask in the happiness of the present.

“Titania,” you continued, “can I ask you something?”

The female across from you peered up from her cup which she placed back onto the saucer with a clink. “Of course.” She said, but her tone was slightly incredulous.

You weren't sure where this question came from, but it tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop it

“If you could have done any other career, what would you have chosen?”

A faint furrow appeared between Titania's brows as she chuckled softly. The question was absurd, and you knew it. Titania had never had the luxury of considering other options for her life. Every day was a battle for survival, a constant struggle for safety. But now, in the presence of a strong woman who had overcome her circumstances and built a fulfilling life for herself, you couldn't help but wonder if she ever allowed herself to imagine the "what if's" of life. She sucked her teeth, her eyes not meeting yours. “I don’t know.” She said shrugging lightly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her bony arms.

You leaned forwards, “Anything, just if you could choose anything else."

Titania let out a sigh and gazed up at the ceiling as she considered your question. Did she envision herself in these alternate realities? Or did she simply imagine someone else living the life she wished she could have had? "My life wasn't unhappy," she offered finally, meeting your eyes again.

You were taken aback by her response and worried that you may have offended her. But before you could apologize, she raised a hand to stop you. "I had a very full life," she continued, reminiscing on all the experiences that made her life worth living. "I traveled, saw the world - or as much of it as I wanted to. I met wonderful fae, experienced life, ate good food, read good books."

You smiled at the contentment in her voice. Perhaps you had underestimated her struggle and discounted her as someone who was merely suffering through the world, not as someone who built herself around it.

"Life wasn't easy," she added with a hint of defiance in her tone, "and it certainly hasn't been handed to me. But if there was one thing I could have tried that I didn't get the chance to, I would have loved to be an actress." She nodded confidently, folding her hands in her lap.

You smiled lightly at her as she recounted everything that made her life so full. Perhaps you had discounted her as someone who was suffering.

“Life wasn’t easy. It certainly hasn’t been handed to me, and I don’t expect it to start being fair now.” She continued. “But I think if there was anything I could have tried that I didn’t get the chance to I would have loved to be an actress. “ She nodded, contently, her hands folding into her lap.

You tried to keep your jaw from falling to the floor. It made sense, with Titania’s eccentricities, her overall demeanor and command of a room. She was most certainly a personality fit for the stage. But to think of her, prancing around, wearing costumes and reciting lines someone else had written for her, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide it behind your hand. But Titania's scowl made it clear that you hadn't done a very convincing job.

She shook her head and sighed exasperatedly. "Oh alright," she said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Go ahead and make fun of me."

Your laughter bubbled up again and you apologized through tears of mirth.

"It's okay," Titania dismissed your apologies with a wave of her hand, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I know what you see when you look at poor old washed up Titania – no way could she ever be an actress." She shook her head and chuckled softly.

You managed to calm yourself down enough to speak without wheezing from laughter. "No, no," you reassured her with a wide grin. "That's not what I meant at all." You stifled another round of giggles before continuing, "I just never would have expected you to say that."

Her eyes widened, “Well what did you expect?”

You also didn’t have an answer to that question, perhaps you should have had one ready before you asked her it, but any answer she might have given you seemed absurd. She was Titania, the enchantress of pleasure and desire. Her aura exuded confidence and power, and no one dared to argue with her. She was fully and unapologetically herself.

But you searched for a label that would encapsulate her essence - something professional, rewarding, poised. “I don’t know.” You shrugged, trying to come up with an answer on the spot. “Healer?”

Titania rolled her eyes at your suggestion. “Sure.” She said incredulously.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, determined to justify it. “You’re empathetic, kind, you care for people.”

“That could also fit into thirty other professions.” She raised a sharp brow in amusement at your attempts.

“I know, but…” You searched for a better description, your eyes darting around the sparsely decorated room. The soft glow of candlelight danced on the walls, casting shadows that seemed to mimic the ebb and flow of conversation. “You always made me feel safe.” Titania’s expression softened slightly, her gaze meeting yours with understanding.

Her presence alone was enough to calm your racing heart and ease your worries. It was as if she had a special power, a way of soothing even the most troubled souls. You couldn't help but admire her for it. "You always knew how to get children to settle," you continued, "ways to get them to understand without words."

Titania let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes, "Let’s be honest, at this point, you've raised more than enough children and fought through more than enough childhood illnesses," you joked, trying to lighten the mood. "You should have a healers degree by now."

Titania let out a small laugh and scoffed at you, but as she returned her gaze to you there was an unmistakable warmth behind it that made you feel at ease. She always had that way about her, making you feel like everything would be okay no matter what. “Losing you was one of the biggest heartbreaks I’d ever felt,” she said softly.

You tried to keep yourself from looking astonished. This sudden shift, this sudden flood of emotions from Titania was unusual for her, but you just held her gaze, silently urging her to continue.

“You were so full of life. Every day you woke up ready to take on the world and announced that you were going to be a force within it.” She chuckled lightly, shaking her head in amazement. “I’d never seen a child with so much to give.” She averted her gaze to the table, where her fingers traced patterns on the dark wood surface.

“I think that was because I had you.” You offered softly.

But Titania didn't look at you, simply shaking her head with a small smile. "No, that kind of spirit isn't something you learn," she said with certainty. "You came to me like that. Just full of reasons to live, even despite what you had been put through."

You couldn't help but smile at her words, your gaze following her fingers as they continued to trace the patterns on the table. “I wish I could have grown up with you,” you whispered softly, feeling a small fire of anger for not having had more time with her.

Titania lifted her eyes to you, a sorrowful expression etched on her face. The lines of her brow deepened as she gazed at you with a certain intensity. "I don't," she said softly, her voice unwavering.

You met her own gaze as she continued. “You deserved more than the life I could give you.”

You shook your head no, but as you did, one of those long bony hands reached out to you, grasping yours. “I wouldn’t have let you live the life your mother had. Or I had.” Her touch was surprisingly gentle as her thumb traced your hand lightly. “I think that if your mother had continued on the road she had, without taking you away, you would have seen things your tiny heart couldn’t have handled. I think…” she paused, “I think that it would have been selfish for me to make her stay knowing how it would have hurt you.” You felt a rock forming in your throat as she continued, shaking her head. “It broke my heart when you left, but I think your mother knew that there was nothing left for you here. Nothing that would help you.”

You shrugged, your voice breaking slightly as you filled in the pieces she was missing. “I don’t know if it was much better after she took me.” Titania’s eyes shifted to yours, “I don’t remember much after we left.” You shrugged, “Just bits and pieces with her. I remember a lot more from when I was living with you.” You wondered silently if it was because the child who lived those moments couldn’t handle the memories of what happened to her in those woods, in those early years when it was just your mother and you. Perhaps it was the only way to keep you from falling apart. Perhaps your mind kept you safe by forgetting.

“But I do remember her crying a lot. I remember when we finally made it to the little village we lived in she would just spend days in bed, just sobbing.” You continued, Titania’s hand squeezed yours.

“I guess that’s the withdrawals she was going through?” You shrugged, “But I just remember crawling into bed with her and just crying with her. For days and days. But at some point I stopped crying, and I would just lay there with her, listening.”

Titania’s fingers began running along your hand again, but your gaze was empty as you searched through the small memories you had. “I think that the other villagers that there was something wrong, but it was such an isolated community that most everyone just kept to themselves. They all had their own issues that no one had the time to come knocking on the door of a stranger.” You shook your head, “But one of the only clear memories I have was leaving the cabin after a few days, when we hard run out of food.” Your eyes narrowed as you tried to pull back those images, “I remember going into the woods and finding some berries to help the ache, but they must have been poisonous because I just got so sick afterwards. But I remember going to another cabin, when I got better, and knocking on the door. This other female opened it, looking exhausted and overwhelmed with five children surrounding her.”

You laughed lightly at the image of this tired, disheveled female, not much older than your mother swinging open the door. Her eyes purpled underneath as three small children played at her feet, one of them whining and barely hanging from the hem of her dress while and a baby strapped to her chest, also screaming.

"I must have looked close to death because she immediately brought me inside and sat me down.” You shook your head, brow furrowing as you dug deeper, “The cabin was so small. I think there was only one bed in the whole place.” You chuckled. “It was tiny, I mean tiny. Only one room which was just covered in clothing and dirty pans and pots. And the children, gods the children they just whined like they had limitless amounts of breath in their lungs.”

Titania laughed, “As they do.”

You continued on, “I remember she offered me a biscuit.” You nodded as the picture continued to paint itself, “Yeah, she did. And she kept having to swat away the other children who kept trying to take it from me.” Perhaps they were hungry too, you thought. “But I wouldn’t eat it in front of her. I just kept telling her I had to take it back to my mother.”

Titania’s focused was solely on you, even as a small child ran in through the back door, squealing and screaming, clanging pans together as they exited. It seemed as though her only world was you.

“I don’t know how it happened,” you continued, “But I remember taking the female to our cabin. And the other children came with. And I remember she brought a basket of some food. I can’t imagine she had much to spare though.” It was a small basket, you recalled, with barely more than some slices of hardened bread and a few pieces of jerky. “She told me to wait outside with her children who were only slightly more civilized than feral. And she gave us a biscuit to share, which the other children immediately stole and ate. But she went inside, and was in there for a while.” It felt like an eternity, but as a child, five minutes felt like hours so you weren’t fully sure how long the female was inside with your mother. “But when she came back out, she was holding my mother up by her arm.” You felt your eyes go glassy. “She looked so pale in the sunlight. And she was so skinny. And her eyes were just,” you own eyes widened, “just bloodshot.”

You felt Titania gulp.

“But the female looked at me and smiled and she told me everything was going to be okay now. She said that she was going to help us” You let out a breathy smile, shaking your head. “I don’t know what she said to mama. But she seemed to change after that. She still had her bad days, and I remember her just being more quickly angry, but she actually started living again.”

You paused, blinking, sifting through memories that had disappeared from you. Titania interrupted your thoughts, “Do you remember what happened to the female?”

You flicked your eyes up to her, “I know she came to the house once a week, with her flock of rowdy children in tow,” you laughed, Titania did as well, “And I guess she was checking to make sure we were both still alive.”

“Did you know her name?” Titania asked.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head, “No,” you said, your voice hollowed, “I don’t remember it.”

Looking back on the memory as an adult you were now aware how much that female had done for you, for your mother. In a world that had been so cruel to the both of you, this one female, with almost nothing of her own, shared her food, clothing, blankets with you. You recalled how in winters when it was even too cold for the small wood stove to warm your cabin, your mother and yourself would go to her cabin, crawl into that too small bed with her children and herself and sleep with each others body heat being the only warmth. And now you couldn’t remember her name, and that brought a pang of guilt through your stomach.

“When did your mother leave?” Titania asked.

You shook yourself from the feeling of sadness that wormed into your belly. “I wasn’t that old. Maybe a little over ninety?” You offered.

“So you were with Caelum and his family for a while then.” Titania stated more than asked.

You nodded. “His mother took me under her wing.” You shrugged. “Until Caelum and I secured the mating bond.” Those memories, that small happiness when you felt a sense of family felt poisoned by knowing what came next.

Titania smiled at you, with a sincerity that warmed your heart. “You are raised by the world, doll.”

You shook your head, “No, I’m raised by those who know The Mother is cruel, and decide to ignore her.”

Titania chuckled, “What does she know?” Titania teased, her hand gripping yours tightly, “She’s just some bitch who hasn’t seen the world.”

To my readers, I miss my mom so this was more for me than anyone else: @thatacotargirl @mcuamericaa @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @caroline-books @sleepylunarwolf @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylaralchemist @darling006 @loglady00 @caninne @weepingwerewolf @that-one-bibliophole

[jrow]

May Prompts (6)

Part 5 here. Day 7 here.

Cold

He's cold.

He'd probably be fine if he had his coat, but he left that somewhere in the hospital. Under any other circumstances, he'd be livid about losing it. Today he's numb. It’s just a stupid coat anyways.

Perhaps a poet would say the cold is apropos. Perhaps John would say the same if he wrote about these events in a blog post. The thought makes Sherlock want to vomit (again).

Before she left for work, Molly had tried to convince Sherlock to wear one of John's jackets. Too small is better than nothing she'd said. But Sherlock couldn't bear to look in his friend's closets, let alone take something from him. Not today. He’s already taken far too much over the years.

So, here he is. Maneuvering the pushchair down the pavement, every inch of him growing colder by the second. Rosie is warm though, decked out in her full snowsuit and wrapped in a blanket. She looks adorable and he's noticed several other pedestrians smile down at her. She always smiles back. He does not deserve her. He does not deserve them.

Sherlock isn't sure how, but he had managed to keep it together as he explained to little Watson that her Daddy was hurt and had to stay in hospital. That the doctors and nurses were working very hard to help him get better.

His speech had been made a touch easier because, right before he gave his stilted explanation, he'd received a text from Mycroft alerting him that John was minimally conscious. For once he was glad Mycroft had eyes and ears everywhere.

Sherlock knows the stats and he reviewed countless articles last night. John regaining some form of consciousness so quickly meant he should survive. His cracked ribs and fractured sternum were never going to kill him and, at least so far, there didn’t appear to be any internal bleeding. It had been the head injury they’d all been most worried about.

The news had been a relief, obviously, but Sherlock hadn’t let himself absorb it. He had a job to do after all. So, that’s what he did. He answered all of Rosie's toddler-style questions, got her dressed and fed, and then bundled her up and placed her in the pushchair. Routine is good for children. Routine is good for him. He's taken her to nursery dozens of times before and it was strangely comforting to go through the motions. To clean up her cheerios when she threw them on the floor, to fight with her over needing to wear mittens (understanding he looked like quite the hypocrite … but he deserves cold, she doesn’t), to get her out the door with little to no time to spare.

He doesn't deserve her. He doesn't deserve them.

He is relieved John will live. Is relieved John will be able to hug his little girl again. But with that relief comes a new emotion. One he’s been trying to push aside like he always does, machine that he is. But like the cold, the emotion is spreading everywhere, right down to his bones. It is suffocating him.

Guilt.

Because it’s his fault. He is the reason John fell.

I have moved the tags to the comments since only some of them seemed to work each day.

[bamboozledbird]

HOWLING: TST Rewrite // Chapter 1

Characters: Thomas, fem!reader, Newt Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader (the slowest of burns) Word Count: 3.2k Tags: Mix of book and movie canon, newt!sister!reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, sad times are head my friends

A/N: I honestly do not know where this came from. Mostly from my middle school love of Newt probably. Purely maternal. I thought that boy was gay way before Dashner. So here is newt!sibling!reader, and of course, the angst of being in love with your brother's 'killer' :( I think this will be more like snapshots of instead of a full story, mostly due to my schedule, but I do have a lot of moments in mind.

This place is full of bad omens. Broken mirrors, red skies, night terrors that bleed into daylight. They say you’re safe here, but you felt more at ease inside the Spring’s looming walls than you do in this quiet bunker. The concrete is cold, and the steel surfaces gleam menacingly, even in the dark. You always tuck your fork from lunch into the waistband of your sweats, just in case something jumps out from the other side of the funhouse mirror. 

You count 13 new immunes today. You should’ve known then that there was something wicked brewing in the wind. 

None of them stand out to you at first; they look just as dirty and shell-shocked as all the others did when they first arrived. You’re sure you looked the same on your first day at the compound. 

You poke at your apple with your fork, chin drooping onto your knuckles as your eyes lazily trail over a boy with spiky hair. A few tufts are clumped together with sweat, and he somehow looks unimpressed and exhausted at the same time. Your gaze shifts to a tall girl with messy black curls. Her face is delicate, pretty, even through the dirt and scrapes on her cheeks. She appears to be the only girl in the group—poor thing.

Sighing, you roll the ache out of your neck until it pops, and your eyelids start to wilt with your alertness. New arrivals stopped being exciting after you realized they were all going to disappear, one right after the other. It was just a matter of time. 

Your eyes are almost entirely closed when they land on a boy in the center of the pack. His Henley is torn, soiled like everything else, and his eyes are wide—calculating in the way he studies his surroundings. You don’t know him, and yet you’ve never wanted to strangle someone more. 

It’s striking, the anger, and it suddenly occurs to you that you’ve been angry for so long there might be nothing left in you but this rage. How odd, you think distantly. How odd how something can build in an instant; how you can remember a feeling from a void of nothing. 

You don’t know the why, but you stare at the boy and you know he’s the who. 

You’re on your feet before your brain can catch up to your legs. The boy turns to you, and his mouth parts—most likely to ask why the hell your gaze is so murderous—but you hit him before he can utter a single word. A solid jab to his eye socket that sends a jolt of pain through your thumb to your wrist. The grinding of your snapped bone makes your empty stomach churn, and you feel a little woozy with adrenaline and low blood sugar. 

It’s a good punch, but you’re the one who ends up on the ground. The guard escorting the new group drops you with ease and pins your arms behind your back. A few kids come to the boy’s aid, gripping his shoulder like they’re afraid he’ll jump on you, but he doesn’t look angry. He holds a hand over his eye and stares at you, dumbfounded and confused, but not angry. Somehow, that just makes your scowl even more bitter. 

You’re dragged away from the cluster of new immunes and directly deposited in a sterile examination room before anyone has the chance to say anything. It’s hauntingly silent in the room, and your thin tank top does little against the chill in the room. 

You should be more worried about what your punishment will be—if they’ll send you away to where all the missing children go—but you aren’t. It’s just so…loud inside your mind, a million ravenous locusts buzzing, feasting on your ear canal. You can’t make out what they’re saying, what they’re trying to tell you—what you’re supposed to remember about the boy with the bambi eyes and a dark cloud casting a shadow over his face. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this much. For as long as you can remember, literally, dread consumed every one of your thoughts—no room for things like anger, hate, betrayal. You’re spilling over the missing pieces of yourself WCKD chipped away with their mindwipe. It would be fascinating if it wasn’t so awful.

Anger is a nasty feeling and so is weakness. They're bitter, poisonous, and you're afraid you might leak onto the rest of the kids in the compound. This feeling, this bright burning you’re trying to swallow, it's an epidemic of its own. 

A pair of guards with ridiculously large guns flank a mouse of a woman in a stark white lab coat. They’re there to protect her from you, you realize, and you feel like laughing. Two hulking men equipped with high-powered grenade launchers just in case you try to backhand someone else. They must be bored; there really isn’t much guarding for them to do in the middle of nowhere. 

You watch the doctor examine your thumb with mild interest. You’ve gotten used to the pain, mostly. You curse under your breath when she moves it, and the woman flinches like she’s been struck. You grin a little. You probably shouldn’t be so amused, but it feels kind of nice being on the other end of scary, even if it means being stared at like you’re a wild animal. 

The doctor mumbles something to someone in her earpiece, and they all move to leave. “What—that’s it?” you sit up on the examination chair and hold your injured hand to your chest. No one responds. They leave the room without looking back, and the groan that’s ripped from your throat sounds a lot like a growl. “So, I’m good? Nothing’s broken?” The steel door doesn’t answer your question, but the awkward angle of your thumb certainly does. Evidently, they just need you in one place, not one piece. 

The doctor could be coming back, but you’re impatient by nature; sitting around doing nothing after years of running for your life does that to a person. Besides, you’ve done this before. There were no white coats and examination rooms in the Spring; there were only your hands and a stick to bite on. A broken thumb couldn’t be that different from a dislocated shoulder and a sprained ankle, right? 

There aren’t any sticks in the room, so your shirt will have to do. You bunch the hem into a thick wad and shove it between your molars so that you don’t chip a tooth—and then you pull on your thumb until a sickening pop fills the silence like a gunshot. Your eyes water, and the fabric of your tank top is soaked through by the time you’re certain that you won’t make any noise. You release the material from your mouth and examine your work; the digit is certainly straighter, but the color and swelling are decidedly nasty. 

The whoosh of a door sliding open distracts you from bluing skin, and, for the second time today, you see a stranger and feel an overwhelming wave of familiarity. This time, however, it’s warm. You stare at him and feel the strangest urge to ruffle his floppy hair and crush him into your arms so that he can’t slip away from you. Again. The foreign thought strikes you in the heart, and it hurts. 

He sits down next to you, limbs loose and lax, and his head crooks down like a swan to examine your bloated thumb, “That doesn’t look too good.” 

“I haven’t ever punched someone before,” you mumble and lift a shoulder, “guess my form isn’t the best.”

Humming, he cradles your injured hand in his palm like a baby bird and looks around the room, “All this tech, and they don’t have a single bandage.” 

Your teeth catch against your bottom lip, and the constant gnawing starts to hurt almost as badly as your thumb, “Or the good drugs.”

He smiles at you, lopsided and familiar, and you feel like you’re home. “Surely they have some ice somewhere.”

It finally registers that he sounds different than the rest. You suppose that’s probably the first thing most people notice about him, but it’s a distant thought for you. You sound different too, after all. Your cadence isn’t quite as thick as his. You probably sounded more like him before your strong-voweled, mush-mouthed friends infected your inflection. You wish, strangely, that they hadn’t now.  

The corner of your mouth ticks up, “And to think, I never wanted to see another speck of ice again.”

He looks equally confused and amused. 

“Our maze,” you wave your good hand in the air, pulling a face as the phantom frost creeps up your spine, “it snowed all the damn time. Hated it.”

He lets out a low whistle, “I suppose sweating is better than freezing in hindsight.”

You give him the same look, and his face twists in a grimace that rivals your own, “The Glade was sweltering. Dreadful really, almost worse than the Grievers.”

“I imagine.” You nod sagely, face solemn, “All those boys and such a limited supply of soap.”

The boy’s head cocks back with his laugh, and it’s so heart-wrenchingly familiar you could cry. You really could. At least, you can blame any bizarre behavior on your broken thumb. 

“So,” he tilts his head, “Tommy.”

Your face wrinkles in confusion, and he nods towards your injured hand. Ah. So, the black eye had a name. 

“Tommy,” you repeat, far more glumly.

He smiles a little crooked thing, “I know he can be a pesky little shank, but thirty seconds hardly seems like a fair shot.”

“I don’t know what happened,” you say quietly, keeping your eyes on your lap and the ballooned, bruised proof of your guilt. “I saw him, and then everything went red.”

He hums softly in his throat, “Think you knew each other?”

“I don’t know.” Your cheek takes the brunt of your teeth’s abuse this time, “I don’t think I want to.” 

“Whoever he was before, whatever he did…he’s not the same,” he catches your eye, and the flash of hickory feels like an echo, “none of us are.”

You swallow and nod stiffly. He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s still a little irrational twinge of anger when burnt umber clouds the back of your lids. “Why are you here,” you finally say. Your voice is small, like a lost little girl, and his arm wraps around your shoulders in an easy, fluid motion. You sink into it, still feeling small, but it’s not so terrible now. He’s a comforting weight, a shield you turn into reflexively. “I socked your friend in the eye,” you mumble towards your lap, “think that entitles you to a little hostility.” 

He laughs again, and his chest rumbles with it, “I can’t quite blame you. I’ve wanted to do it a time or two before.”

“Hmm.” You’re unconvinced, and he tugs on your hair a little. 

“Come on, let’s get you that ice.”

You follow him, your hand in his, and feel a little dizzy. There’s a hazy scene layered over the present. A much smaller boy flickers over his long frame; they have the same sandy hair, the same sweet smile. The little boy tugs at your arm, pulling you down the dark hall of a different facility, just as cold. Just as scary. The concrete walls don't loom so largely in your peripherals when he clutches your hand. 

It feels like a fever dream, that place between consciousness and sleep, the lingering brightness when you squeeze your eyes shut—so real for something cloaked in so many shadows. 

There are two faces looking back at you when he turns over his shoulder, the soft cheeks of a child overlapping with the hard lines of a young man. “Newt.”

It’s an odd thing to say, seemingly unrelated to anything around you, but somehow you know that’s his name. You give your own without a moment of hesitation.

Newt looks at you, still and sure, “Had a feeling.”

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

One bag of ice and lengthy lecture later, you figure you should find Thomas and apologize—for Newt’s sake, not his and certainly not WCKD’S. You eventually find him sitting on a bunk. His face is clean, and his hair is wet, curling at the nape of his neck and over his forehead. Without all the dirt and blood, the purple under his eyes is stark against his pale skin. He looks like he hasn’t slept since he was dropped in his maze, maybe even longer.

You feel a little guilty when you see his black eye.

His head tips up from his hands when you step into the room, and his shoulders immediately tense. You hold up your hands and lean against the opposite wall, as far away from him as you possibly can be in the same room. “I’m not gonna hit you. Promise.”

His shoulders don’t relax, but his fingers uncurl and fall flat against his thighs. His jaw is tight, and you can’t help but notice how it sharpens all the lines of his face. He looks like he’s made of granite, a sculpture from a different time, a time before all this ugliness. There isn’t a lot of room for art in this place, this world; beautiful things don’t last long in the Maze, the Scorch, a society rotten with the Flare—but he has. You hate to admit it, but Thomas is striking. The bruising just makes him look more like a Greek antiquity, a tragic hero with a pretty face.

Thomas looks restless, looking at a spot on the wall just left of your head, and you realize that you’ve been staring for too long. Gritting your teeth, you glance at him and then look down at your shoes, “I’m…I probably shouldn’t have hit you.”

Thomas blinks at you, eyes big and brown…and bruised. You wince a little and fold your arms over your chest, shrinking into the wall, “I definitely shouldn’t have. Sorry.” There’s a part of you, one you don’t understand, that thinks this is more than he deserves. Another part wonders how the hell that’s possible.

He lifts a shoulder and looks to your right now. You aren’t sure if that means he’s forgiven you. You aren’t even sure if he heard you. He looks like he’s in another dimension, a glaze of isolation. You wonder where he’s gone; if it’s nicer there than it is here, or if it’s a bad place. A night terror leaking through the cracks.

Thomas licks his lip and finally looks at you. His face is grim, somber, like you’re visiting your own wake. “I saw you,” his voice is scratchy when he speaks. You’re curious if it’s from disuse or too much use. You’re curious about a lot of things; what exactly is this boy like? This boy who introduced you to the sin of wrath. 

You lick over your teeth and push yourself off the wall, “I figured.” He watches you cautiously until you sit down on the bunk across from him. “Question is, can you still see me?” You hold up three fingers to his swollen eye and hum, “How many?” 

His face remains solemn, not even a hint of a smile, and you sigh, “So you saw me?”

He nods and digs his elbows into his thighs, “In a memory.”

That gets your attention. “You remember things?”

Thomas gestures to his purpling eye, “Don’t you?”

“Feelings,” you pull your knees to your chest tightly, nosing into your kneecap, “just feelings. Not all the time, but sometimes I get that annoying itch you get when you can’t think of the name of a book, but you know you know it.”

He nods, “I get those too; this was different.” He pauses, and presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth like he’s waiting for the right words to roll onto the tip. He doesn’t look entirely content when he speaks again, but his struggle is valiant, “Griever venom...it made me see things—memories, like…a movie I’ve seen before, but I forgot the ending."

Your brow pinches, “Griever?”

Thomas hums a little, “WCKD’s cyborg guardspiders.”

Ah. You pick at some lint on your sweats, and a kittenish whine vibrates through your throat, “Lucky.” He tilts his head and studies you so seriously that a small grin slips through your stoic exterior, “Ours had wings.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Thomas’s face, and it’s nice enough you’re curious what a real one would look like. It fades once he starts talking again, “I know why you hit me. The mazes…they were mine—that’s what I saw. I watched so many of them…” His eyes fade, and you know he’s in the bad place. The place you go when you think about that day. The day half your friends were ripped apart by WCKD’s pets. 

Clearing your throat, you pull him back to the present with a quiet voice, "And then you saw me.”

He nods, and his throat bobs as he swallows, “And then I saw you.” 

The corner of your mouth tugs into a sad little smile, and his responds in kind. “I think I knew you.” Thomas chews on his lip and picks at his nails, doing his best to tear himself apart, “Not well…you were in a different group, but I knew you…because of Newt.”

Your eyes widen, “Newt?”

“I think…he was your brother—is, is your brother. You were close. Like twins.”

The fever dream is back. There’s sun-drenched flashes of a boy reading to you, pelting you with snowballs and laughing, eyes bright, nose pink. They’re too bright to see everything clearly, but it’s enough to wind you. 

Your eyes flutter open, and you see that Thomas is watching you carefully. Concerned. Odd, considering you broke your thumb against his face a few hours ago. “It could be a plant. Who knows what they put in our heads when they took everything away.”

Thomas tilts his head and then shakes it, “This is a good thing. WCKD doesn’t give us good things.”

Your eyes burn, and you aren’t quite sure why. “Is it?”

Thomas looks confused. It’s a common expression on the munies, confusion. Tends to happen when you don’t know who you are or where you came from. For some reason, it makes you sadder than it usually does.

“Come on,” you curl in on yourself, squeeze your shins tightly and peek at him over your knees, “why’d you tell me before you told your best friend?” 

Thomas looks down at his hands. Caught.  

You answer for him, “You and I both know the last thing that kid needs is one more person he’d die for.”

The solemn look is back on Thomas’s face, and you sigh, “You want me to trust you?”

He nods sharply.

“Don’t tell him. Don’t tell anyone.”

[sunfyresrider]

Festering Desire

Jake Sully X Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: After witnessing something you were not meant to see a new emotion began building inside you. It plagued your dreams, your thoughts and every part of your life until it reached a boiling point.  Tags: Minor description of injury, simping?, bad at communicating, wet dreams, minor jealously, confessions, neural link, smut, daddy-ish kink, p n v intercourse.  Author’s Note: This could have really benefitted from a Jake POV but I am so exhausted lately I couldn’t. Also, my smut definitely needs improvement, but I can/will improve that when I am not half asleep.

It was past twilight when you pulled yourself out of the river and began the long walk home. You escaped here for tranquility and a place to clear your head of unwanted thoughts. The Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully, had pretty much banned you from traveling after eclipse along with several other members of the clan, his children to be more specific. 

He explained it as a safety precaution since the sky people had returned but they rarely ever struck after the moons emerged. Your sister, Käani, said it was because you got too lost in your head and were a safety hazard yourself. You’ll admit you were cursed with clumsiness and the ability to completely forget your surroundings, but you’ve lived here all your life, and nothing ever happens after eclipse anyways. 

You wrapped your loincloth around yourself, basking in the time you spent alone. The bioluminescent plants beneath the water's surface always brightened the night so you never had to fear the dark. The forest was filled with noise every eclipse, animals much preferred to roam in the comfort of darkness. You were wrapped in a shroud of warmth as you skipped your way home, becoming distracted by various plants all around you. Your home was nothing short of stimulating, always something beautiful to look at or to play with. 

A Kenten laid on a large plant, blissfully unaware of your presence. You snuck up behind it, waiting for the proper time to pounce. Slowly, it veered its head in your direction, gazing at you cautiously. Your tail began swishing through the air excitedly, waiting for it to do the thing. The kenten blinked slowly before you gently blew air towards it. It’s fans spread almost immediately, flying into the air in a circle and eliciting giggles from you.

You began to chase it deeper into the woods, forgetting about what might be waiting for you. It led you all the way into a part where the bioluminescent barely shined and the original animal noises you heard were hushed. Its fans retracted and it disappeared into a nearby tree, leaving you mildly disappointed. You let out a deep sigh, your ears falling flat against your head at the loss of it. 

Your feet began to turn to walk back home, for real this time. Until you heard a twig snap in the distance, your ears shot up alerting you to a nearby noise. It was far away from where you were, but it faintly sounded like an animal whimpering in pain. It made your heart ache hearing such noises, you knew you should ignore it and forget but it was impossible. You slowly crept towards the noise; in case a larger animal was feasting on it. 

The closer you got to where the sound originated the more Na’vi-eaque it sounded. A woman moaning in pain to be more precise. One thing Jake Sully taught everyone was no man left behind and that involved ones left in the eerie part of the forest too. You saw a faint light from the corner of your eye, quickly you turned to locate its origin. The thing you saw was beyond words, leaving you had frozen in place. Your feet planted themselves firmly into the ground, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull. 

The Olo'eyktan had a woman’s legs wrapped around him, thrusting into her at an intense speed. It felt as if your skin was set ablaze, a swirling sensation beginning to form in your gut. Your mouth hung agape at the sight, shocked by what you were witnessing for the first time. You blinked once, twice, before backing away and stepping directly on a branch. The sound echoing through the once quiet area. 

As if on cue she spotted you, her eyes locking onto yours, and letting out a choked yelp to signal your presence. It shocked you out of your daze, fear shooting through you as he began to turn. You took off, sprinting in the direction of your tent and avoiding any further unwanted interactions. At several points you felt sharp plants cutting you as you made your ways towards your bed, but it did not matter. All you could think about was escaping Jake before he knew you saw anything. 

Once you arrived you practically lunged onto your tent, securing the flap that granted you privacy from the outside world. You nervously paced around your room, panting from all the energy you had excreted. You shook your head violently, trying to banish the image from your mind entirely. The sounds of footsteps approaching your tent made you dive onto your mat, curling up into a ball and pretending to sleep.

You tried to steady your breath, burying your face in your arms so they couldn’t see you. The flap opened silently, you felt someone peer in before slipping away just as quickly. You prayed to Ewya it was just Käani making sure you arrived in one piece. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to forget what you had seen and letting sleep take you away. Since his mate had died, he had become a bit of a man-whore. Instead of accepting the emotional comfort he so badly needed, Jake fucked his way through many women of the clan. Mainly other widows as they understood each other's stance. Käani, who understood the ways of sky demons better explained they were relationships without strings attached. 

Käani knew many things. She taught you everything you knew, purposefully leaving out select details. Unlike humans, information about sex was not as easily accessible. A person would have to ask another who had experienced it what happened and that was far out of your comfort zone. It would be incredibly awkward, not to mention it made you look clueless. 

She did tell you enough, the different appendages, what goes where, and most importantly how to make tsaheylu with your future husband but you stopped asking her questions there. How exactly everything was performed was lost on you, though you hoped you would simply figure it out in the heat of the moment.  Except, now you knew exactly what to expect from intimacy with someone else. 

༺♡༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺♡༻

There was a warm sensation in between your legs. The feeling of something hard entering an area you never gave much attention to. Your core felt as if it was tingling, causing your body to squeeze around something. You grasped at their arm on instinct, pulling them closer to you. An appendage moved in circles around your clit, eliciting sensations you had never felt before. His mouth moved to suckle at your neck, pulling soft moans out of you. You practically melted into him, wrapping your legs around his warm body and pulling him closer. They were large, so much larger than you, “babygirl,” he whispered into your ear. You lazily opened your eyes, looking up to see who was bringing you such pleasure...

... "Jake?"

Your body jolted awake, your eyes scanning for any intruders. They landed on Käani, who in your tired state looked blue, just like Jake. 

“Ahhh! She shouted back, “Ahhh!” Her voice ripped you out of your nightmare, you narrowed your eyes at her. “What are you doing here?!” She threw her arms up in the air as a response, “Why are you screaming at me?!” You settled down, pulling your legs up to your chest in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. You winced as an ache spread through you, your eyes peered down at your body which was covered in bruises, small cuts and dried blood. 

“I was trying to prepare some balm for all your wounds before you decided to shout.” Your cheeks burned bright as you remembered last night, you hadn’t even noticed the damage you had done to yourself whilst fleeing the scene. “Oh, sorry tsmuke…” She scooted closer to you, huffing as she pulled your legs towards her and slapped on healing cream to your injuries. Käani was judging you, her eyes boring into you as she tried to decipher what happened. 

“Should I ask or assume you are living up to the name of self-safety hazard?” You kicked her in reply, making her chuckle quietly at your expense. For a moment you tried to keep your lips sealed, harboring his secret for him. But your sister was nothing if not persistent and if she didn’t get it from you now, she inevitably would later. “I saw Jake with a woman last night.” Her eyes shot open, forehead wrinkles gracing her forehead as she stared at you. “No shit! Were they…?” 

You nodded your head silently in reply, watching her mouth open wide as she stared at you in shock. Käani slapped your leg, “who was it?! Don’t tell me it was Ninat.” You rolled your eyes, the drama between Ninat and your sister was never ending. Both of them were in a constant quiet battle to be the best singer of the clan… Käani, having youth on her side, was winning by a vast majority. “No, I couldn’t tell who and I don’t want to discuss it any further.” She raised her eyes at your reaction, “You’re jealoussss.” Käani shoved your arm suggestively, biting her lip trying to refrain from laughing. “I am not!”

She leaned in, pretending to sniff the air.  “I can smell it on you! You’re jealous he’s not showing you that type of attention, huh?” You swatted her hand away, “You’re so gross! It is not like that.” A faux pout formed on her lips, her hands clasping her heart. “Aw you’ll hurt Jake’s feelings if he hears you say that.” That made your ears perk up, your tail beginning to sway behind you.“What do you mean by that?” A sly smirk crept its way onto your sister's face, you hated when she got that look. You could practically hear her thoughts,‘I know something that you don’t know’. 

“You know Jake always gives you extra attention during training and his hands always linger on you longer than normal. He practically watches your every move when you're in his line of sight and don’t get me started on how overprotective of you he has become.” That made you slump back against your tent, thoughts whirling around your head like a storm. “Jake probably pretends all those girls are you.”

Käani was like a devil whispering in your ear, encouraging thoughts you should not be having about your Olo'eyktan. It was impossible for him to fancy you, not in the same way he loved his late wife anyways. Not only that, but you were also younger than him by a noticeable amount. But it did nothing to ease the thing stirring within you, a strange desire beginning to form that you had never felt before.

You were scared of the unfamiliar feelings boiling inside you, the thoughts you had about a man who had already mated once and had children!  They were only thoughts, as long as you did not act upon them then you were safe, you told yourself. She patted your leg, scooting backwards to the exit, "I see I have lost you,” Käani stood up, stretching her arms and gathering her things. “I’ll leave you be for now but don’t even try to skip out on the celebration tonight.” You nodded your head silently as she strided out of your tent as if she owned the place. 

༺♡༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺♡༻

The camp was alive with music from Ewya, bonfires setting the forest alight with their glow. You held tightly onto Käani’s hand as she pulled you through the crowd, fighting for a log to sit on. You tried to avoid the nervous pit forming in your stomach, Jake was here somewhere. 

You didn’t have the heart to face him, spending the entire day safely tucked away in your room. Times like this were rare, especially since the sky people came back. The entire clan was happy, carefree as they celebrated. You should be feeling the same, enjoying the night for what it was but you could not. Your heart ached, knowing the reason why, a lump forming in your throat.

Whereas you were on a mission to avoid someone, your sister was actively hunting men down. Atan was her current best pick for you, a strong warrior with excellent beading skills. When you were younger you used to have a bit of a crush on him, but feelings change like time. Käani heartedly disagreed, scanning the crowd for any sign of him. Whilst she continued singing praises about him in your ear, your eyes locked onto a familiar face. 

Jake Sully was watching you. 

You swallowed hard, unable to look away from his dark eyes. It felt as if he was staring through you, deep down you wished you could be invisible. He looked especially handsome tonight, his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat across it. His long dark hair was braided neatly behind his head, the braids complimenting his strong features. He smiled politely, his eyes twinkling. Your mind floated back to your dream, the way his lips felt against your neck and the feeling of his body pressed against you.

You looked away quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. Your ears flattened against your head, that was a wildly inappropriate thought to have at this moment or any moment for that matter. Käani turned her attention towards you, raising an eyebrow at you and following your gaze. "Lover boy is looking at you, tsmuke.” You nudge your sister with your elbow, huffing, "shut up."

She giggled to herself, leaning in close as your eyes focused on the ground, “And he’s coming this way!” Your eyes snapped up, staring at her in disbelief. Before you could protest, or attempt to make a mistake, he was standing right in front of you. Käani quickly stood up to make a place for him, she nodded her in respect, silently reminding you of his position. "Sir." Jake happily nodded back, taking his place behind you and watching your sister walk away before he spoke.

“You didn’t join us for breakfast this morning or show up to training.” His eyes gazed at you quizzingly, an incredulous look plastered on his face. You lifted your leg, showcasing the marks on it without thinking of the implications. “I hurt it last night, Käani demanded I rest.”  

“Last night?” The memory flashed back in your mind ripping you out of your drunken stupor. You scramble your words together, speaking fast. “Not after eclipse… I swear.” His face softened as he looked at your body, his fingers gently tracing a cut near your knee. He felt so warm, a strange feeling rose in you, causing you to shiver. You blinked slowly, praying to Ewya he didn't notice. "You need to take better care of yourself, what if this had been more serious?”

You weren't sure if he was scolding you or sincerely worried, both options made you nervous. You mumbled, “sorry, Jake.” His fingers slowly pulled away from your skin, creating a cool void you were beginning to hate.“Are you too injured to dance with me?” His eyes seemed to glimmer in the firelight, a stupid grin lighting up his face. The way his lips curved had you memorized, your eyes glued to them. It was impossible to say no, you nodded your head excitedly.

You followed behind him as he led you through the crowd, weaving between the many bodies. He gently tugged you closer to him as you danced, guiding you around each other and pressing against one another. You couldn't help but notice how strong he felt against you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to the beat. Käani’s words echoed through your head ‘lover boy’ and ‘he imagines those girls are you’ as you danced with him.

You peered up at him, admiring the way his lips parted as he took a deep breath. The way his eyes lit up and pupils dilated when he stared at you.  A burning desire began to bubble up inside of you, a feeling you had never experienced before. It was like Ewya herself was pouring her fire inside of you. You lowered your gaze to your feet, suddenly embarrassed about your feelings towards him. "You seem flustered today,” his fingers brushed your cheek, tipping your chin back up to look at him. "What's the matter, baby girl?"

You dared to look him in his eyes, feeling the camp starting to spin around you. “I- I am not,” you fumbled your words. He watched you for a moment, a Cheshire grin spreading across his, making your heart stop. "Oh really?"  His body inched closer to yours, your heartbeat picking up speed with each passing second. You nearly choked on air, you wanted to say something witty but all that came out of your mouth were a series of broken words. "I, uh... Uh-" a new wave of nervousness washed over you. Jake took another step closer, his body pressed up against yours, his hand holding your waist tightly.

“Jake! Ma’Olo'eyktan,” the shrill voice of none other than Ninat pierced your ear lobes. You snapped out of it quickly, pulling away from Jake as if you were burned. He cleared his throat, forcing a polite smile as she quickly approached. "Ninat, is everything okay?" Her eyes focused on you for a moment, an unpleasant scowl plastered on her face. "The hunters request your presence immediately. They want to celebrate your recent achievements.” 

Jake nodded his head, "I'll be right there." She left without another word; you turned your attention back to Jake who seemed annoyed by her interruption. "I’m going to find Käani.” He gave you a faint smile, "I'll find you once I'm done with this.” You didn’t give a proper goodbye, instead quickly turning around and making your way through the crowd, bumping into people as you tried to escape.

༺♡༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺♡༻

You did not return to the celebration or participate in anything that may involve Jake the next few days. Jake had been giving you an alarming amount of space, though his attempts to communicate were all futile at best. Käani was greatly disappointed with it all, constantly reminding you that it was your time to shine. 

The past several nights you could not escape the dreams that invaded your mind at night. Your peace was sorely disrupted as the thoughts consumed you at every waking moment. If his head was not between your legs, then he was inside of you. If Jake was not on top of you, he was beside whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Sometimes the dreams weren’t of sexual nature at all, which scared you the most. You would be doing mundane things with him like flying, playing with the children or simply laughing enjoying each other’s presence. 

It further proved what you were feeling was not hormonal nor would it go away so easily. You tried to remind yourself he was widowed; you were just a kid to him but there was always that seed of hope. 

The combination of Jake merely existing and Käani’s constant presence was driving you to insanity. You couldn’t imagine how he would react if he ever found out what was going through your mind. Which is why tonight, you decided to escape to what remained of the spirit tree. You hoped to find solace in a place where Ewya was so prominent. The great mother does not take sides and she does not involve herself in things so trivial. You still hoped this place would give you something to ease your mind. 

You sat in front of the tree, bowing your head to show your respects. For a moment, there was silence. You opened your eyes and stared at the light in front of you, watching the tendrils dance around each other.  Then you heard the sounds of leaves cracking beneath someone’s soles. “She’s alive,” You didn’t have to gaze at him to see the grin creeping onto his face. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as he took a seat beside you, he peered into the sky. "I was wondering when I would see you again.” You continued staring at the tree in front of you, “You know where to find me.” 

Jake let out a disappointed breath, knowing the expression on his face faltered. "Have I done something to upset you?" You let out a shaky breath, "it’s not your fault." He watched you closely, you felt like he could see right through you, peeling back each layer and finding the deepest secret you were hiding. Your eyes slowly moved towards him, "Jake... I," your voice trailed off, searching for the right words to say. You took a deep breath, letting the air slowly escape your lips. "Do you like me," the words tumbled out, leaving you in a state of vulnerability. 

You glanced up at him, you were met with a soft smile, a strange twinkle in his eyes. "Of course, I like you," he replied so quickly you weren't sure what to do next. Your mind scrambled, trying to formulate a proper response. "I don't mean as a friend.” He leaned in closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek as his eyes bored into yours. "As what?" You were painfully aware of his every movement, the warmth of his hand and the smell of the herbs he was wearing today.

“More,” you spoke quietly, not wanting to hear the reply you were hoping for. Jake’s thumb brushed your cheek softly, your ears flattening against your head as you felt yourself losing control. "I have always liked you." His voice was as gentle as his touch, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. The weight of his words hung in the air, all the uncertainty and fear that had plagued your heart suddenly disappeared, replaced by warmth.

You took a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours, and mustered the courage to speak your truth. "I want you," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing.  The connection between you deepened, the air crackling with an electric energy. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Jake leaned in closer to you, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck. "You can have all of me."

Your lips pressed against his cautiously, your heart hammering in your chest as you pressed into him. His lips parted, his tongue tracing the curve of your lower lip. You let out a shaky breath as you felt yourself begin to lose control, his hand moved to the neck of your neck and pressed you closer into him. You kissed him deeply, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you mounted his lap. 

You pulled back, panting heavily as he mourned the loss of you. “What is it,” Jake whispered into your mouth. You felt your heart ache at the thought, “you’ve already mated… we can not-” He hushed you with another deep kiss, his hands reaching around to grab at your queue. “I’m still part human… which means I can.” His voice was full of sincerity, as he pulled his forward, slowly you watched them interlock. The way you felt was indescribable, you could feel every heightened emotion, every throb of his heartbeat, every rush of blood, and every bit of pleasure.

He moaned against your mouth, your fingers tangling themselves in his locs. You were able to feel the warmth radiating off his skin, your thighs squeezing around his waist as he ran his hands across your back unlacing your top. You gasped against his mouth as his fingertips danced along your bare back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You began to move your hips slowly, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he suckled on your neck. His lips parted from your neck, a faint growl escaping his lips, “you’re so perfect, babygirl.” He gripped the sides of your loincloth, untying them with haste, you shivered when the air hit the wetness between your thighs. 

Jake gently eased you on the ground, maneuvering himself in between your thighs. He gazed down at you for a moment, admiring you in the moonlight. The way the moon illuminated your skin and hair, how your body shone with a sheen of sweat and the way your eyes seemed to glow. His finger slid against your folds, "so wet already." You shivered, a whine escaping your throat. "Jake-"

"You've never been touched like this before, have you," His cock prodded at your entrance, the head slipping inside of you. Jake moved his hands, placing one on your hip while the other gripping your thigh. You let out a loud scream, the feeling of being stretched making your legs weak. “N-No,” you whimpered out.  Jake pushed you down, his cock forcing itself into your tight cunt. “You’ve been a good little girl waiting for me huh?” 

He groaned; his cock burying itself deep inside of you. "That's right, baby. You’re doing so good for me." Jake’s hands moved to your waist, moving you up and down his cock. "M-Ma’Jake, ahh!" You cried out, each time he hit your center. You gripped onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "S-so pretty," his words slurred. The once holy area, meant to connect with Ewya, was filled with the sound of your skin slapping together and the sounds he was ripping out of you.

Your cunt began to tighten, a sickly-sweet heat building inside of you. "P-please," you cried out. He slowed his thrusts, biting his lip hard "not yet, princess" he pulled you on top of him, his length filling you completely. "We’re gonna cum together." He rammed himself into you, hitting the spot inside that made your legs turn to jelly. Jake moaned, "s-good babe." He bounced you on his lap, admiring the way your breasts moved with each thrust. Jake slipped his fingers underneath you, rubbing at your clit. He continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for how good you take him.

Jake gripped your hips, slowly lifting you off his cock and slamming you down again. The forest began spinning as you felt yourself nearing climax, the sweet agony building up inside you. "That’s it,” he hissed, "Cum with me, babygirl." You whimpered loudly, the coil in your stomach tightening. His words made your mind go blank, his finger began rubbing faster against your clit, and the heat in your core was nearing its breaking point. “Ah- Ah- Jake!” Your eyes rolled back into your head as the coil snapped, pleasure racked your body. Jake’s thrust became sloppy, until he buried himself deep inside you, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He growled as he began filling you with his seed, your body collapsing on his. You laid there, tangled in each other's arms, as you slowly came down from the high.

His cock slipped out of you, cum dripping from your womb and down your thigh. Jake pressed a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek, "my little princess," he grinned, "You should have told me how you felt sooner." Your entire body felt sore, yet you were completely at peace. Jake kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and making you melt. "I’m never leaving you alone again."

[bambiraptorx]

Welcome to Not Quite Hidden AU. This is a poll-based story. Word count: 504

There are many things that Draxum isn’t a fan of, and small children and grocery shopping are among them.  Not that he hates either of them, of course, it’s more of a mild dislike than anything else; something that must be dealt with occasionally but can generally be ignored.  Annoying as both of those things can be, they are a part of life.

Combining them, however?  Rather more than a mild dislike at this point.

He pins his ears back under his helmet and grimaces as he tries to compare the cost of two boxes of crackers and ignore the shrieking from the aisle over.  Someone has been letting their horrid little offspring run rampant for the past ten minutes, and if they don’t do something Draxum will.  A supermarket is not the place for kids to be running around and playing tag, much less for screaming!  If one of them even gets close to him he’s going to—

A small giggle alerts him to the presence of one of them.  Oh, great, they’ve infiltrated this aisle too.  Once the others catch up to this one, it’s going to be nothing but noise.

Something tugs at his train.  “Mister?  Whatcha lookin’ at?”

Draxum twists away, yanking the fabric away from the small hands and glares downward.  “None of your business, you little—”

A small green face stares up at him, pouting slightly.  It’s a young turtle, wearing little more than an oversized tunic that still doesn’t quite manage to escape the rips and tears of being forced over such a spiky shell.  He has a good deal of spikes, actually, small reddish points scattered across his shoulders and arms and larger ones on his elbows.

Titan above, the boy looks like one of his.

The child stares at Draxum, his eyes flicking back and forth, and suddenly brightens.  “You have arm sharpies too!”

And yes, Draxum does have spikes on his gauntlets, but that does nothing to explain why this turtle looks so achingly similar to what Draxum’s would have been at this age.  Might have, really, he doesn’t know for sure.

“Raph!  Raphie!  Raph, Donnie’s it now!”  Another child barrels around the shelves and all but skids behind Draxum.  This one’s a turtle as well, with a smoother but more decorated shell and small yellow splotches across his face and limbs.  Draxum’s breath catches.  Another, so similar too?  How is that possible?

He’s about to ask them a question—clearly they know each other, and he’s always hoped that at least one of his specimens might have survived somehow—when a short ferret yokai turns the corner, two more small turtles trailing behind him.  

“Boys, where did you go?  I told you not to run off again—” his semi-desperate call trails off as he catches sight of Draxum.

Draxum stares at the other turtles—a softshell, and a slider.  Exactly like his own. There can be no doubt now, these are Draxum’s turtles.  But how did they all make it out, how are they all here?

Info:

I decided to try a new format for an au. This is going to be something of an interactive, choose your own adventure type story. Also it was originally based on this post lol. Feel free to ask questions if you're curious!

Next

[kykyonthemoon]

Limerence

(noun) — a mental state of profound romantic infatuation, deep obsession, and fantastical longing.

⋆˚✿˖° This chapter is a part of a mini-series of dark fairy tales and romance sets in another universe. It consists of three chapters, each with a Male Lead and is separated from one another.

⋆˚✿˖° Character x Reader/MC, from another (OC's) point of view. Reader/MC's pronounce is "she/her/hers".

⋆˚✿˖° Warnings & tags: 16+, MDNI, angst, hurt, thriller, obsession, major character death, dark fantasy, dark fairy tale, necrophilia.

⋆˚✿˖° Howard is my OC.

⋆˚✿˖° Read more chapters:

✦ Rafayel's ✦ Zayne's

⋆˚✿˖° Masterlist

⋆˚✿˖° My friend Cery made an art for this fic here: x

Chapter: The Sleeping Beauty — in which he paints this world blue for his Queen

⋆˚✿˖° Word count: ~3k

There was something about the lakeside cottage which scared Howard to the bone.

That area was formerly abandoned, dingy, damp, and home to numerous insects and reptiles. Few people ventured there except to hunt or fish. An ideal spot for Howard and his fellow children to hide and play when they did not wish to be found out by their parents.

Yet a few months ago, when a young couple bought the property and moved in, all of a sudden it was transformed into a paradise. A variety of peculiar flowers and plants bloomed, forming a meadow surrounding the cottage. The warm light emanated, and the aroma of tea and baked delights consistently made the kids drool. They were occasionally handed sweets by the new owner, and everyone of them was bribed in this manner, oblivious to the fact that their headquarters had just been taken from them.

Nevertheless, that was not what bothered Howard. That cottage made him anxious because, in addition to the abrupt change that he had yet to adjust to, he felt little sympathy for the new owners.

The brain of a ten-year-old child prevented him from generating an answer for this. He knew only one thing: there was an odd vibe beneath the new neighbors' tenderness, as if they were keeping some sort of secret that they wanted no one else to find out. His hunches were usually right.

“Here's your pie.” The husband said as he handed Howard's friend a hot, fragrant loaf of pie. “I'm sorry, kids, but you must find somewhere else to play. My wife is not well. She's in need of a quiet place to rest.”

All the children nodded, except Howard. He paid close attention to his neighbor. The man appeared youthful, clothed simply and comfortably. With his bright hair and blue eyes, he made people feel at ease and cozy. His beaming face appeared quite amiable, and the way he dealt with the children indicated that he was a trustworthy person. However, in fairy tales, witches frequently disguised themselves as nice people as well. And the person who took away these children's playground was clearly not a decent one, even though according to the law, they had every right to do so.

Howard's reluctance was not enough to stop him from returning to the lakeside cottage. He appreciated this location and the tranquility it offered. He went about nearby alone, inquisitive about the area and its new residents, but did not dare venture forward to alert them. On average, he would see the husband awake at about midday. He went into the forest to harvest fruits and hunt, and they occasionally ate the fish he caught in the lake. On the contrary, the wife was rarely seen. Howard sometimes caught her figure sitting at the window, staring out. He was unable to see her face properly, but he had the impression that she was really beautiful and gentle.

On pleasant, sunny days, the neighbor would maneuver his wife's wheelchair out into the heart of the blue flower field he had planted. He rested next to her on the ground, listening to the birds sing and told her about everything that had transpired here, including the children.

"Isn't this area quite calm? You enjoy it here a lot, don't you? I do too. Children come every now and then to bother us. But fret not; I told them to find another place to play. It appears that they are effortless to handle... Such adorable little ones."

The husband paused for a moment. He took a hold of her hand and caressed it. “Children could be a source of delight. Do you also wish we could have a child of our own in the future?”

There was no response from his wife, but he smiled as if he had heard her heart.

Aside from the two odd neighbors, Howard was intrigued and horrified by the flower meadows around their property. He had never seen such flowers blossom in this land before. They were an elegant blue tint, similar to forget-me-nots, but at night they emitted a soft glow under the moonlight. They eventually extended from all sides of the cottage to the woodland and the edge of the lake. They appeared pleasant at first sight, but Howard was alerted the moment he attempted to pick one.

“Don't touch them.” The neighbor said, now known to Howard as Xavier.

“Why is that?” The boy inquired promptly.

“…” Xavier gave not an instant answer. It seemed that he was finding words to explain it to a child. “It's best that you stay away from this place.”

Howard pouted. He did not like the feeling of being unwelcomed.

“Are these flowers poisonous?” asked Howard once more.

“These flowers are for healing… Don't damage them, kid.”

"Oh is that so." The youngster nodded. If the flowers were used for healthcare purposes, he would be more cautious around them. At the same time, he was intrigued about what diseases these flowers might cure.

The peaceful days continued to pass. After a few conversations, Howard realized that his neighbors were not as frightening as he had imagined. They were just a little odd. Xavier did not have any official employment; he simply stayed at home and relied on his hunting talents. He must have chosen to live this way since his ailing wife required particular care. Howard was tremendously curious about his wife, though. Especially after one afternoon when he happened to meet her by the window.

That day, Howard spent his time pursuing his family's mischievous cat. That cat was quite old and sick. Yet for some reason, she managed to find her way to the neighbor's cottage and slept soundly in the middle of the flower meadow. It was said that when a cat knew he or she was about to leave this world, he or she would flee to a place where the owners could not discover. But Howard prayed that day would not come soon enough.

He called the cat from afar, but the animal paid no heed. After a while, he entered the neighbors' private space.

The cat laid close to the couple's open bedroom window. Howard stared for a while, fearful of being caught and chastised. Not seeing Xavier's shadow anywhere, he felt secure in moving on.

Someone sat beside the window. Howard suspected it was the wife. She did not move even though he was certain that in her sitting position, she would have seen the boy approaching.  She simply remained there like a statue behind a thin curtain. Howard was hesitant and intrigued. He halted when he was only a few meters away from her.

“Erm… Hell, ma'am… M-May I bring my cat home?…”

He held his breath and waited, but she did not answer. Perhaps she was asleep. He saw her and Xavier by chance several times previously, and in those moments she also remained silent. Her condition must have caused her to be like this. He once had overheard grownups discussing how her entire body was immobilized and that she could not even talk at times.

Without seeing any reaction from the neighbor, Howard reached down and scooped up the cat. At that time, a powerful breeze blasted through the area, causing the curtains to lift. Howard looked up, but the dust in the air caused his eyes to squint. He could barely see a portion of the pallid face of the woman seated in the room. Her eyes were closed.

Then, blocking his view of the window was a familiar tall figure. It was Xavier. He flashed the child an expression of rage.

“Get that cat out of here. Now!”

It was the first time Howard had seen him angry. Although the neighbor remained cordial, the tone of his words dismayed the child. In an instant, he pictured witches consuming children in his head. But Xavier was much more terrifying than that. Howard instantly embraced the cat and fled out of their meadow.

For the following week, Howard refused to enter the area surrounding the neighbors' cottage anymore. He occasionally came across Xavier around town on his way home from school. The man had reverted to his regular state, even waving at Howard despite his intentional turn in another direction.

However, Howard's cat was fearless. She continued to stray off to Xavier's place frequently. One time, the youngster caught the animal on her way home in the early morning, in her mouth a blue flower that only blossomed in his neighbors' meadow.

“What are you doing?” Howard yelled at the cat. He removed the crushed flower and discovered a glittering blue tint in the animal's tongue.

The cat must have swallowed the neighbor's medical plants. Howard kept this a secret because who knew how enraged Xavier might be if he found out? Perhaps there was truly enchantment in those flowers. His family's elderly cat, who had been severely ill, suddenly became healthy again. She ran around and lived with them for a very long time, surprising everyone, but Howard kept his mouth shut.

That was presumably one of the neighbors' mysteries, which the child eventually came to respect. He stopped being inquisitive, but something about the cottage still made him shiver every time he passed by. Perhaps not because he still feared Xavier, but more because of his wife.

One brilliant sunny day, Howard happened to see her sitting alone in a flower meadow. She turned away from the child and appeared to be reading a book. Initially, Howard intended to just observe from afar. By coincidence, the book in her lap glided to the ground. Howard was concerned, unsure if he should come and help or just leave. He glanced about, but failed to locate Xavier anywhere. Perhaps he had gone into town or was hunting in the woods.

Howard went to help the neighbor. He thought about having his whole body paralyzed like that, it would truly be a curse. What would become of him when he could no longer dance and play? What would happen when he could only watch life pass in front of him while remaining motionless as a sculpture? He wondered if the neighbor could still feel the warm sunlight embracing her. What a pity! Pity for the husband who was at her side day by day, taking care of her. They were too young to have suffered such a tragedy.

When Howard approached her, he detected an unusual aroma. The scent was comparable to their flower field, but with a really nasty undertone. The stench made him think there was a dead animal lying somewhere. The youngster leaned down to take up the book. It was not an ordinary book, but it featured characters and illustrations that he could not comprehend. Yet another kind of language? Nevertheless, it was not appropriate to delve into other people's affairs, so he closed the book and returned it to the wife.

Only then did he get a close look at her. And it required all of his courage to stay on his feet.

Seated in the wheelchair was a person, or he did not know if she was still a human then. He still recognized her appearance; still seemed like what he had seen a few months earlier, but half of her face was lost. Howard saw half of the skull covered in pale skin, while the other half had rotted just completely. The white bones were utterly visible, from the cheeks to the chin. Howard claimed to have seen her collarbones exposed with no skin covering them, despite the fact that the majority of her body was clothed in heavy layers of clothing. She presumably lacked a heart inside all of that. 

She was a dried skeleton draped in decaying human skin.

Cold sweat streamed down Howard's spine. He trembled and placed the book in her lap, where her decomposing hands were nicely positioned. Before he could shout, he heard the rustle of trodden leaves behind him. Bewildered, he whirled around to see Xavier emerge from the forest, wielding a sword.

It was unimportant if he had been apprehended yet. Howard sprinted all the way home with all the strength left in him. His fever reached forty degrees celsius, and from that day on, he vowed never to return to that wooden cottage by the lake again.

“My dear,” Xavier's warm voice like the sun filled the room, which included a bathtub full of flowers in the center. He lifted his loving wife from her wheelchair and tenderly dipped her into the bathtub. The cool blue water enveloped her entire body. He put in a few other necessary details before kneeling alongside her.

“Today is our five hundredth day on this planet.” Xavier used his hand to catch the magical water and let it fall through his fingers, touching his beloved wife. “Do you like this place?”

The wife was silent as she always was. Her eyes closed, allowing Xavier to soak her hair and face. Half of her face had decayed, revealing bones and teeth. But it was of no significance; as soon as this ritual was over, she would revert to her original beauty.

"That neighbor kid saw you." Xavier's voice rang evenly. "He raced away. But do not be sad. "To me, you are always the most beautiful person."

Xavier picked up a flower from the water and set it in her hair. Nothing in this universe could compare to her. Even if her physique had changed. Even if she was only a withering skeleton.

"I always love the way you look, no matter what."

Xavier's hand continued to repeat the ritual of taking water and pouring it all over her body. Moments afterward, a new layer of skin began to develop around the decaying remnants.

"Worry not that others would discover our secret. That child wouldn't open his mouth. Even if he does, I have a way to silence him. Nobody will believe him. All of this was due to my carelessness. I left you alone out there."

The rustling sound rang out again as Xavier bathed his wife. From head down to neck, body and arms and legs. Her body was gradually restoring under the effect of the magic water.

“I apologize to you, my Queen. From now on I will never let you be alone."

He kissed her forehead. The water was as blue as the flowers outside their cottage, covering her exposed body. He planted them for her. As long as they grew, she would not perish. They would be together forever. Nothing could separate them anymore, not even death.

Xavier, the Crown Prince of Planet Philo, was to wed the girl he loved. Yet fate tore them apart, as she endured a terrible disease and did not survive much longer.

“Wait for me. I will go find a cure for you. When I return, we shall hold the wedding immediately.”

Xavier whispered beside her sick bed before departing. He and his fleet had discovered traces of a legendary flower, said to have the ability to cure all diseases. He traveled light years to find it and returned, only to find her lying cold in a coffin.

It was supposed to be their wedding day, but when he came back, a funeral was all that greeted him.

Her family members told him that she could not wait for him, and all she wanted for him was to forget about her and move on. But, how could he? He had no desire to go through a single day without her.

He refused to accept her demise, grasping the flower in his palm, he stole her coffin.

They traveled to another world where no one knew or could track them. He performed the wedding ceremony for only the two of them. Then he planted the miraculous flower he had found and utilized it to nurture her. It failed to bring the dead back to life, but it did keep her body from withering. As long as the magic from these flowers lasted, she would forever be young and beautiful.

They would live, happily ever after as in a fairy tale. She was his Queen. For her and only her, he could paint this whole planet into a blue meadow.

“Stay with me… Please…” He begged. His tears combined with the poison created from blue flower petals that he poured over her body. He held and kissed her eyes, lips, then fingers, and hands. He wished to feel her warmth again.

Yet that warmth had been lost, along with her soul. What Xavier could hold on to was only her body, which no longer felt anything, including his love.

Many moons later, the woodland transformed into a fascinating forest of blue flowers. Everyone was drawn to its beauty, yet only those who had witnessed the horrors concealed deep inside the forest held its tale in high regard. The tale of Sleeping Beauty and her Prince.

Howard, now an elderly man, had returned to his hometown after spending several decades far away. He could still recall the path back to the wooden cottage by the lake. In fact, the blue blossoms led him back.

Perhaps, his neighbors no longer lived there. Possibly it was his old eyes that were deceiving him. Howard saw that nearby the cottage was the silhouette of a familiar woman still, the most beautiful flower in that meadow; she was sitting and reading a book. And, always at her side as a shadow, that young man with the same features as in his childhood memories placed a hand on her shoulder. He gently turned his head, glanced at Howard, and smiled.

[stawpny]

I’m bored and ao3 is kinda dry (atleast for the wttt ny tag)

so here are some NY ships I NEED to see more of 🙏

—

MassYork: ok, I used to be almost totally opposed to this, seeing them having more of a brotherly relationship but with history n stuff it’s kinda not possible. But anyway, probably my main ship for now, bc OHMYGOD “nobody can kill you but me”? GET OUT, GET MARRIED, PLEASE.

like if it’s Mass/Cali/York or Mass/Jersey/York I will eat it up.

no questions, it is already in my mouth. I am eating the fuck outta this.

GeoYork: in my mind they have a cute dynamic. I feel they would be best friends as younger colonies and then have a very complicated relationship until they finally get together. Slowburn kinda, also kinda they have been in relationships dozens of times but something always happens. and isn’t Georgia called the “Empire State of the South”? or am I just hearing things

peach + apple? cobbler + pie? idek but I love them

TexYork: guys pls. southern gentleman and city boy? literally perfect for each other. they would make fun of each other endlessly. accents, vocabulary, actions, plus so much more because they’re very different.

TX taking York to his ranch to meet bro’s cows??? yes please. I’d like to meet Betsy too .

^TexaCaliYork: also a fire ship (see what I did there?) like the ship above, but with the hipster in it aswell. Texas and Cal constantly bicker like children and York sorts it out like a teacher would.

NY: you hurt his feelin’s, go apologize.

TX, scoffing: fine, but don’t expect me to get along with him after.

(spoiler alert!! York forces them into a cuddle pile afterwards to get over there lifelong beef)

IlliYork: they’re enemies, they’re lovers, the whole kit-and-caboodle. they’d switch hats sometimes and hold each others hand when they’re in their cities. they’re idiots and the Midwest and the Northeast hate them for it. It’s kinda gross but in a good way.

they’d be the couple who like hold hands in public but not make a single move other than that to show that they love the other. absolutely no kissing in public, they would just sit there in silence with a death grip on the other’s hand. they would totally insult each other to the face and then say, “Love you, tho.”

FloYork: fun fact: they are absolutely insane together. They influence each other and constantly say stupid shit. Florida would force York outta his comfort zone from time to time but the inner extrovert masked by New York’s fake introvert personality will do it almost willingly. he puts up a “fight” but he would deadass do it bc he thinks this shit is hilarious.

NY would be a little like Florida even if they weren’t dating. like NYC is absolutely batshit so that would mean York would have to be a little too.

NY/CA/TX/FL/LA: little crazy, ik, but I remember reading fics abt these five (including gov, but I’m still questioning if he would be in here or not) and absolutely devouring them. spectacular ship. it’s like a little bit of everything, except the Midwest and the other western states, but almost everything. I would love to see more of them.

they would def fight over each other. (who got to hold hands with who, who got to sleep/cuddle with who, etc.)

—

I’m not forcing you to give into my opinions, but if u like these, I like you 😼

some of these hc’s are not entirely mine, some were influenced, tho most are from the rotting part of my brain

I hope u use these ships in the future or I might spontaneously combust

(spoiler alert 2!! I will still explode [out of love] if u write about them)

ily guys

[aristocratic-otter]

Hey, for once I’m posting early!  Thank you to : @blackberrysummerblog, @rimeswithpurple, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @artsyunderstudy,

@roomwithanopenfire, @larkral, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @wellbelesbian, @letraspal,

@prettygoododds, @bookish-bogwitch, and @whatevertheweather (good to see you back!) for the tags over the last two weeks. 

The summer has been good for me. I’m getting organized and having more time to write! I’ve started the new fic I teased a couple of weeks ago (the one that I was waiting to start until Heart in The Well finished). It’s probably going to be my angstiest one to date, fair warning. 

Here’s one snippet from each of my WIPs 

From Saving Simon Snow: 

“So, you think,” Bunce says slowly, “that the act of casting a spell is calling more magic to the area?”

“Kind of,” Simon says.” His lips twist and he tugs at his sleep-matted curls as he tries to work out how to explain himself. Then he shakes his head. “Actually, no. Not calls more magic. More like takes the magic that’s already there and concentrates it. Gives it a shape. Like, Normals are the source of magic, right? And they produce magic in and of themselves, but they can’t use it. It’s just, like, loose and spread out around them as they go about their lives. But then mages, we use words to give that loose magic a form, and that pulls it together, right? Pulls it into the shape the mage wants it to have. And so doesn’t that mean that Mages are pulling magic from the magical atmosphere each time they cast a spell?”

From Snow Fox: 

Every nerve in my body is on alert. 

I sent the boys home. They’re probably not the reason I’ve been betrayed, but right now, I can’t trust anyone. 

Except Simon.

I need to get to Simon. 

But first…I need to make sure I’m actually alone.

From TikTok Dancer: 

He’s dancing alone. His friends are there, running the music and cameras, but they’re also different. Quiet and focused. Also, if I’m reading their expressions correctly, they’re just a little bit worried, as they watch Simon dance. 

The whole thing makes me feel unsettled and oddly light. Like there’s a bubble of helium in my chest that will soon lift me right off the ground. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that Simon Snow never takes his eyes off of me when he dances. 

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

When I’m feeling greatly daring, I travel back to our home beach. I stop a distance away, and stay behind trees or rocks, but it gives me some comfort to watch the flicker of shadows in the firelight as Simon moves around performing his evening routine. It’s the only time I allow myself to watch him. If I see him during the day, my priority is to stay out of sight, but there’s little danger that he’ll go traipsing about looking for me after dark, so the darkness is my ally.

It hurts, to see him. But it’s a pain that fortifies me. After a few minutes watching him, I’m able to rest more peacefully knowing that he’s safe and well. The pain of missing him subsides enough to let me continue to live without him.

From Cupid’s Shield:

 “Baz, fight it. You have to. The anathema—”

Now I know he’s aware, in some form. I see fear on his face and tears forming in his eyes. But, at the same time, he’s reaching up to the collar of his own shirt, and ripping it away from his skin. 

That’s it. He’s helpless against Cupid’s spell. He’s going to lose everything because a fucking god with a grudge tore his free will away.

That’s probably my fault too. I pissed Cupid off. He must have hunted down Baz because I was immune to his arrows. That means it’s my responsibility to fix this. 

“Please,” he whispers.

From The Rat and the River

I’m aware that I don’t need to be out of bed right now. Simon Snow will be completely fine without me seeing him off. I could probably sleep for the hours the team will be gone, as there won’t be much for me to do until they’re back. 

Like I could sleep when Simon is out there. In the hot zone. 

It’s a sensationalistic term, “hot zone,” but it captures how I feel about the area of highest risk of infection. Hot, as in getting in hot water or hot as in playing with fire. 

Also hot as in Simon Snow is the hottest man I’ve ever known, even in a shapeless white positive-pressure suit, but that’s irrelevant right now. 

And from my new project, untitled as yet, the following: 

I feel myself slipping. 

Other than the daily cup of blood with a bendy straw, I haven’t seen light in weeks. Maybe months. And for the last several days or weeks, I’ve not even had that. I’ve woken up from a doze to find the blood already inside the coffin with me. I spend more time drifting, semi-conscious, than I do actually awake and aware now.

After all, there’s nothing good about being awake and aware. 

Tags and shout-outs to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed,

@frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @martsonmars, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22,

@moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade,

@upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget,

@confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost,  @thewholelemon, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi,

@hushed-chorus, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt (happy birthday!),

@cosmicalart,  @cutestkilla (also happy birthday!), @theearlgreymage, @alexalexinii, @Iamamythologicalcreature,

@emeryhall, @ileadacharmedlife, @messofthejess, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @best--dress,

@nausikaaa, @youarenevertooold, @j-nipper-95, and @facewithoutheart