#pastelwrites

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Cain Trusted God, Once || Sg Ish

What have you done? Your father's boy Your mother's son

The deep woods were quiet. Nothing, nothing but the low rumble of life surrounding them in excess, the creak of the bunker-door propped open. 

The modded medic watched the younger generation- slipping in and out like clockwork as hours drag on. Mimosa returned with Mimi at some point, whispering for her to go ahead inside- her voice firm and soft.

Percy’s was like that once. His was like that... once.

He shuddered.

He turned his head, looking to his double. His double, who huffed when he was caught humming a prayer to himself- one he finally could touch without feeling as though he dirtied it, anymore. The double who’s hair held the red of their mother; the double who wore his heart on both sleeves, to help hide the scars from limb transplants he only mourned in the dark after drinking from a mason jar and sharing a cigar with his oldest friend.

His oldest friend... and now his. Still somewhat new double.

“I’d ask if you’re alright but. You aren’t.”

“No.”

A hard swallow as the gentler of the pair’s voice rasped into the air, rasped like a man who had cried his heart into silence. Into heatdeath. The modded medic rubbed his own chest- feeling the nanoskin shiver from the minor fluctuations in the ambient temperature.

“...I... We should. We should get inside, dawn is coming.”

“No.”

“Ratchet-”

“I said no.”, he whispered, “I said No, and you will. Listen. Do you understand me? I will not hide, I will wait until you are all safe and then I am. I am going home.”

“Double, you can’t. They’ll still be crawling all over the place and-”

“And? I’ve faced worse odds. I’m the medic who lost his hands. I’ve survived being abandoned by a vassal of God himself.”

He whispered his words, he whispered his words like the last plea of a death row existence and turned to lock eyes with his modified double; a twitch to his lips as modified eyes flickered a little brighter as though facing a threat, not a familiar face.

“Besides.. We need information. You heard the. The kids-”

The tears begin again. He does not react. His hands dangle limply against his sides and he leans against an old growth oak.

“The kids need information and.. and I can catch a mole. I did in Ma’s garden for years. The only difference is these one’s scream louder. Longer. Scream for God.”

“Ratchet.”

“They’ll scream for God, I know they will.”, he whispers, “And if they don’t.... I’ll make them. I’ll make them demand he watch.”

“Ratchet, no. I know you’re hurting. I know it feels like dying but you. You can’t risk it, can’t risk them. Us. Everything.”

“I won’t.”, whispers Ratchet, another twitch of a smile, “We. Won’t.”

The cocking of a gun is cruelly loud and the modded medic turns like a twister to be met with the ice cold sniper of the Trion, reawakened in the worst way.

Eye rimmed in red and face frozen in deathly disdain. He stares down the double of his first love with nothing behind his gaze, no remorse nor grief left in his battleworn body to fuel him. Nothing but spiritual coolant and the kind of abandonment you only feel when someone locks the door behind you.

“I already have one chosen.”, he says quietly. His voice is flat, emotionless, “I heard Mimosa discussing interrogation. I told her I will not stand for children to do my job.”

The modded medic swallows hard, as something flickers behind the good eye. As the reticule flickers to life.

“Do not try to dissuade us, wrookie.”, he says, his voice a hiss, “My reflection already tried. You would do well to tend him- He looked terrified.”

“Wh. What have you done-”

“Nothing, to him. But I have much to do in other places. CMO, attend. We have a walk to take.”

Ratchet nods, “To a picnic, I’d guess.”

“Something like that.”

The laughter is cold. The laughter is broken and wrong and something deep within unholy modifications shivers and recedes and for the first time the Right Hand of a False God feels an old and unfamiliar feeling: Fear.

“That’s. That’s enough.”, says the modded medic as he grabs his doubles arms- just above the wrist, never touch the scars, “Come on, come along- we need to get inside and make real plans and-”

“Is it enough?”, asks the broken CMO, looking at his double with sky’s eyes clouded by a new and cruel storm, “Will it ever. Be enough? Look what they stole from me, took from me. Look what they have done to me and mine and tell me again that That’s Enough. Do it, with no guilt, I dare you.”

The modded medic swallows again, feeling nausea prod at his empty stomach as he recognizes that tone, those words, that demand.

“Pretend you didn’t see us leave.”, says Ratchet with a wide smile like a benevolent angel, as though his burning sword did not stand with rifle ready and waiting, “You never saw us leave, right? Figured we needed air, no idea where we went. Now go back, go AWAY- Leave us alone, let us do what we need to.”

Ratchet jerked his hands free as his expression hardened like Lucifer’s gaze as he fell, “YOU were the one they followed to our world ANYWAY.”

The modded medic felt as though he’d been slugged in the throat- the lump heavy and stopping his voice like a champagne cork as Ratchet strode by him and Perceptor followed suit.

He turned, watching them leave and felt his hands tremble at the straight line of his double’s back, the measured silence of his steps through the overgrowth.

His heart ached. He wondered if this was how Abel felt, when Cain’s wrath silenced him for longer than forever.

How brazen, the comparison- as if he would see heaven after any of this.

He turned on his heel, listening for Percy as he jogged away from the scene of his own death. He would give Perceptor credit- he was talented at hiding his presence, even as he traveled; but with modified eyes and hunter’s senses there was always a trail to follow. A trail to follow to a not quite carbon copy of the permafrost sniper as he hugged himself and trembled.

Blood was smeared across his face as he shook.

“Percy!”

He looked up slowly, swallowing with effort as he blinked his shock away to speak, “The blood isn’t... Isn’t mine.”

Ratch gently cupped the mutagen carrier’s face in his hands, willing the peeking claw attachments away, “What happened, where is it fro- ah.”

The splatter on the tree trunk behind Percy spoke in tomes ancient and removed from the divine.

“He... I think he broke.”, whispered Percy, “In forty eight hours, he broke them all, what. What can we do.”

“...Put them together. I hope.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left of him to put together, darling.”, whispered Percy, “He... Something shut down, in him. Like it had in me back. Back when...”

“...I know.”

“He saw First Aid’s bandages being changed.”, continued Percy, tears welling up already, “The wound is... Love it’s going bad. It’s going very bad we need to. We need to transport him. Get him to a refugee settlement, somewhere with medics and real equipment but he refuses to go.”

Ratch sighed, growling behind his ribs and next to a heart that only recently seemed to beat in the right tempo.

“Double-dear saw and he just. I saw him shatter, I swear. Like a mirror after you hit it with a boot. Or, well. A fist.”

Percy glanced to the splatter of blood against old bark.

“I found him, out here, far enough away that no one could hear him- he was trying to force himself to cry, to feel something. He’s bitten down to the bone on two knuckles and when that pain didn’t work he. Well.”

“Broke his hand.”

“Nearly, yes. A familiar tactic- I remember the days Stormy used to destroy the body they rebuilt, as if to get them back for his own survival.”

Ratch nodded, his hands on Percy’s shoulders now.

“Did... Were you able to. To stop them, precious?”, asked Percy, “He was. He was talking insanity- something about taking prisoners, interrogation- he heard Mimosa mention that information would be useful and just...”

“Decided he knew what she meant, and took matters into his own hands.”

“...Yes.”

“...I couldn’t stop them. Ratchet is... Is broken, too.”, he whispers, pulling Percy close, “I recognized the way he broke, too.”

“Is.. Is that what it was like... watching us fall apart, do you think?”

“I couldn’t tell you, love. But I think so.”

Percy sighed, burying his face into his dearest’s chest, “...I want to go home, to the condo. I miss our bed. I miss the kitchen. I miss my fancy coffeepot with the little mugs.”

A weak laugh, a desperate attempt from them both to keep their heads above the surface of despair.

The sun rose high. The sun fell low.

The modded CMO refused to lie, he looked down as the truth fell from him the way blood drips, the way ink stains. He heard the horror in First Aid’s gasp; he heard the terror in Kiki’s crying and he  winced at the feeling of Dani’s long fingers curling in his shirt and trying to shake him as she screamed her rage and fear into his new kind of cowardice.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispered as Laudanum watched him with an unwavering gaze.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispered as his own Aid looked away in disappointment.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispered as Drift stared at him with a tilted head and bright eyes.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know how to save myself.’, he pleaded without words when everyone stopped listening.

The sun rose high. The sun fell low.

Ratch sat with his head in modified hands, worrying his lip with his fangs until he was suddenly hauled to his feet by Ironhide- not his Ironhide, no; the more vulgar one. the louder one, the one who felt everything with the force of a shotgun blast. The one who sprinkled his joy and rage like salt shot.

“YOU COULDA STOPPED HIM DAMMIT, YOU’RE STRONG ENOUGH!”

“Ghhk, n- No I couldn’t have you IDIOT- What, was I supposed to break his legs?!”

“YOU COULDA DONE SOMETHING DAMN YOU-”, another hard shake and a few buttons pinged off of the modded medic’s shirt and let him breath at the haphazard angle, “Y’R A MEDIC TOO GOD DAMMIT YOU COULDA FIGURED SOMETHIN’ OUT WITH THAT FUCKIN’ COLLEGE EDUCATED BRAIN’A YOURS!”

“I WASN’T ABOUT TO PUT A BROKEN MAN ON HOUSE ARREST IN THE DAMN WOODS!”

“LET HIM DOWN, TWINNY-BOY OR I’M BUSTIN’ YOUR FUCKIN’ SKULL!”

“YOU KEEP THE HELL OUTTA THIS; THIS ASSHOLE COULDA KEPT MY RATCHET SAFE AND FUCKIN’ DIDN’T-”

“YOU COULD’VE TOO BUT YOU RAN FASTER THAN ALL OF US IRONHIDE, NOW SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN OR I’M MAKING YOU SIT DOWN.”

The new bellow shook all three of them to the core. Drift stared, eyes hardened and blade out as he sharpened it with smooth and practiced motions.

“All of you, sit. Sit DOWN.”, he snarled, “We have all been through ENOUGH and like it or not, Ratchet and Perce made a CHOICE. So we have to cope with that choice and keep pushing on until they come back.”

“OR WHAT, Y’DAMMN HIPPY-”

The modded medic grunted as he was dropped, overbalancing and thudding against the wall before sliding down it into a sitting position before a heavy thud sounded.

Ironhide wobbled, nose slowly beginning to leak blood as Drift flexed his hand.

“Ironhide, you have one chance, do you understand me?”, said Drift, level and cold, “Sit down and shut up. Or you’ll be joining my husband’s mother. Three seconds, make your choice.”

“You fuckin’... cold and callous and vindictive sonuva-”

Drift reared back for another strike before Lock scrambled between them, shushing them both loudly.

“Shaddap calm down you fucking dickheads- Hear that?!”

Silence, heavy and thick. A light tap-tap at the bunker door, a gentle tug to the handle. Everyone’s silence grew, some of the siblings covering their mouths as they breathed.

“Is anyone in there?”, sounded a voice, familiar and tired and Mimi scrambled to her feet and charged to the pull-lock and hauled hard. Another tap, and a tug on the handle at the loud clunk of unlocking and the bunker door eased up and open.

“MAGNUS!”, sobbed Mimi, “MAGNUS SI-SI AND RATCHET VANISHED AND-”

“Primus, okay heeeeeey- Hey now.”

The ex Enforcer hopped down easily, uncaring of the ladder, and dusted himself off as he looked around, “...Good god. What.. What happened here.”

“We were attacked.”, said QD quietly, “They found where we were hiding and attacked us with little... squads, I guess? And... And they took Stardust. And Pulsar, but we got him back but... They shot Aid.”

Magnus hissed through his teeth as Aid was steadied by a double, Seeing the leaking wounds through the bandages over the young father’s chest.

“We had to hide here, Mimi got us here when the last attack hit and... and...”

Quickdraw, QD’s mirror image, cleared his throat, “We’re up against my world’s Prowl, S-Sir. He’s... Out of his mind. He’s known as the Primal Zealot, a blind follower of our Optimus and. Well... He has Stardust; and he’s put her through what I and my siblings all had to endure too, save Mimosa.”

“And what’s that, young man?”, asked Magnus calmly as the sounds of movement above them grew louder.

“Advancement chamber. He pushed her age up higher so he could safely have her memories probably modified; adjust her personality. Turn her into, uhm.”

“He turned my daughter into who I used to be.”, said Stormy, “And she tried to kill us with revamped artillery. Burned down the home, most of the homestead actually- and. Nana Val, Nana Ana, and Nana Aurora helped us get away.”

“Good, good- where are they; I’ll work on getting them out first given their age-”

“Gone. They used themselves and a stolen transport as a distraction.”, rasped Whirl as he looked up at Magnus from where he still sat, silent, “So they are gone.”

Magnus’s face fell, “...May they. May they rest easy; in. In eternal peace.”

“Save your prayers, Enforcer.”, said Whirl, “They died burning, like our home. Like everything always does.”

He fell silent once again, and Magnus reached out to gently put a hand on Mimi’s head and ruffle hair that needed hot water, “What was this about Si-Si, young’n.”

She looked up at him- no longer a one time escapee from what felt like ages ago, no longer an angry young woman with chips galore in her shoulder or a brutal and vengeful big sister- but a broken young thing who’s pushed too hard too long.

“He blew up, Magnus. Like. Like back on G N-N-Nine and... And he left, with his rifle. And Ratchet.”

“...Oh no.”

“His eye- His face it looked the same as the day he came HOME and-”

Drift sighed, massaging his temple as he swore under his breath.

“And then, Twochet over there told us that Ratchet looked.. crazy. Dead eyed. Was talking about catching moles and God and-”

“Yeah, sssssh, Yeah I understand. Have you kept everyone together this long then?”

“I-I. I tried but. I got us here and now I just. I can’t do anything everything is breaking down but. But my double...”

Magnus paused, slowly turning his head to lock eyes with the... infamous Mimosa. She stepped away from the makeshift strategy table and walked with a soldier’s steps.

“Get us out of here, get us to safety and get First Aid to a medic... And I’ll tell you all everything I know.”, she said quietly, “I know the last you and I interacted I was abducting children and had full murderous intent but... Things have changed over the months. Weeks.”

“I.. See.”, said Magnus cautiously, before a cacophony sounded above ground. Alarmed, the bunker rapidly emptied as each one clambered out into the dying daylight to see a few lines of leftover soldiers aiming a weapon at two figures... and a bodybag.

“HANDS UP!”

Magnus felt his heart drop as he saw a pair of hands with sticky black gloves raise up... followed by a bare pair saturated in darkening red.

“Stand down, down all of you- That’s Sniper Perceptor and CMO Ratchet, point your weapons AWAY.”, he snapped, waving for the pair to move closer. Their steps were measured, even and slow. The bodybag behind them rattled lightly.

The family stood in fearful silence as Perceptor reached them first, giving a lazy salute to Magnus- uncaring of the stains covering his once-crisp pants. Ratchet plodded slower, staring down and silent.

“...Perceptor, what’s in the bag.”, asked Magnus cautiously.

“Intel.”

“...Perce, what kind of intel. And should I put on some bio gloves.”

“Come off it old man. I don’t take trophies anymore and you know it.”

The words grated over the nerves of those present.

“So. What is it.”

“I lifted a few of the comms used by the other side. Jailbroke them while Ratchet... carried out our intended operation.”

“....Perceptor. What did he do.”

“Nothing you’ll know, Magnus.”, answered the CMO as he tossed the rattling bodybag at the Enforcer’s feet, “Nothing anyone needs to know.”

“Did... Did you learn. Anything, double.”, asked the modified twin, pushing forward to stand in front of a man who so resembled what the mad medic once was.

Ratchet smiled with no mirth, no joy. Nothing but an involuntary motion of the mouth and the double remembered predator animals bared their teeth before sinking them into soft bellies.

“I learned what I need to know. I got what I needed to get.”

“...And that. That was?”

“They screamed for God, double. And he ignored them, too.”

The words were heavy. Brutal. A threat and a prayer and all manner of opposing forces at once as the recovered mad mod medic reached out, gripping his double’s arm though it was slathered in blood, and gently tugged him to follow.

“Come on, come back now-”

“I don’t think I can.”, said Ratchet, his voice still soft as Magnus cleared away the gathered and directed the small convoy of scraped together soldiers and the family they rescued, “I don’t think I can ever come back. But I don’t regret it, I can’t.”

“You. You have to, you know- otherwise you’ll... You’ll lose yourself.”

“I already lost myself. I lost Ma. I lost too much of Aid- he’s alive but look what he had to pay.”

“...If you don’t come back, Aid will lose you. And we both know he. He can’t take that, Ratchet. Not now. Especially not now.”

The look he received was empty. Magnus called to them both.

Ratchet pulled his arms away from his double, straightening out his shirt-

Said double looked at the bottom hem, the soft cotton hem and recognized the pattern of the stains. The pattern of battered hands clutching tight to it and he looked up at Ratchet’s face again.

Before the ex CMO began walking towards Magnus’s voice- he once more smiled. His teeth were bright, almost sharp in the dim light of the fading sun.

Ratchet took his leave at a brisk walk, ,and his double followed- looking and feeling as though a phantom had tapped the core of his heart in warning.

He had know, always- they and the doubles were... reflections. Warped reflections on occasion but reflections all the same.

But to see his own collapse in such vivid details on a face not entirely his own... Felt blasphemous.

[mochikofi]

Twilight Personal Favorites!

𑁍 masterlists

Twilight masterlist - @americancowgirl19

Twilight masterlist - @cherryglossie

Twilight masterlist - (ineedmorefanfics2)

Twilight masterlist - (kimi240302)

𑁍 series

Daylight - Demetri Voltur - (kimi240302)

Wildest Dreams - Paul Lahote - (atlas-of-a-human-soul)

𑁍 Oneshots/headcannons

Period - Volturi's - Oneshot - (loveswrites)

Uno - Volturi's - Oneshot - (loveswrites)

Time - Volturi's - Oneshot - (loveswrites)

Child. - Volturi's - Headcannon - (volturissideslut)

Spills and corset. - Volturi's - Oneshot - (

The tracker, the fighter, the witch - Volturis - headcannon - (averagewriter-inthedark)

Volturi Kings/Poly - headcannon - (volturissideslut)

Sister - Queen - Volturi Kings - twoshot(?) - (americancowgirl19)

Who's the dad? - Volturi Kings - Oneshot - (the-dawn-star)

All the glitters. - Volturi Kings - Headcannon - (the-volturi-diaries)

Mate - Volturi Kings - headcannon - (twilightfansofcolor)

Bunny - Volturi Kings - Oneshot - (grampstaxidermy87)

Foursome - Volturi Kings - Oneshot - (cherryglossie)

Headcannon - Volturi Kings - (imaginingmanyfandoms)

Wooing - Volturi Kings - Oneshot - (mx-pastelwriting)

First time in bed - Volturi Kings - Headcannon - (mx-pastelwriting)

Worm - Volturi Kings - Oneshot - (demetris-cocksleeve)

Morning - Volturi Kings - Headcannon - (mx-pastelwriting)

Bisexual - Volturi Kings - Headcannon - (the-dawn-star)

Wives - Volturi Kings - Headcannon - (the-dawn-star)

Childish - Volturi Kings - Headcannons - (the-dawn-star)

Childish - Volturi Kings - Headcannons - (twilightt-fantasy)

Hit-On - Volturi Kings - Oneshot - (twilightt-fantasy)

Poly - Volturi Kings - Headcannons - (twilightt-fantasy)

Burn - Volturi Kings - Oneshot - (twilightt-fantasy)

Midnight snacks - Volturi Kings - Headcannons - (Twilightt-fantasy)

Big boobies - Volturi Kings - Headcannon - (cherryglossie)

Size - Volturi Kings - Headcannon - (cherryglossie)

The princess & the king - Aro Volturi - Headcannon - (averagewriter-inthedark)

Human mate - Caius Volturi - headcannon - (carlisles-girl)

Love of a cruel king - Caius Volturi - Oneshot - (kimi240302)

Similar - Marcus Volturi - Headcannon - (volturissideslut)

Naked - Volturi Guards - Headcannon - (imaginingmanyfandoms)

Our forever - Alec Volturi - Oneshot - (kimi240302)

Little things - Cullen Family - Oneshot - (the-twilight-diaries)

Period - Cullen Family - Headcannon - (creelmalfoylaufeyson69)

Flirt - Cullen Family - Headcannon - (charliedawn)

Nails - Cullen men - headcannons - (long-lost-cullen)

Coven mate - Cullen Family - Oneshot - (Congratzams)

Tomorrow - Cullen Family - Oneshot - (loveswrites)

Chaotic - Cullen Family - Headcannon - (carlisles-girl)

Okay and? - Cullen Family - Headcannon - (carlisles-girl)

Sick - Cullen Family - Oneshot - (loveswrites)

Too much - Carlisle cullen - Oneshot - (zmxchs)

Ludicrous - Carlisle Cullen - Oneshot - (velvetcloxds)

Sir - Carlisle Cullen - oneshot - (little-diable)

Shy - Carlisle Cullen - headcannon - (witchthewriter)

Clumsy - Carlisle Cullen - Oneshot - (homeofthelonelywriter)

Art history - Carlisle Cullen - Oneshot - (highwayorgantrade)

Perfection - Carlisle Cullen - Oneshot (specialagentlokitty)

I've got you - Carlisle Cullen - Oneshot - (marvelouswriter)

Hush now - Carlisle Cullen - oneshot - (little-diable)

Nsfw alphabet - Carlisle Cullen - (heyyyitsgrey)

Lies washed away by the pouring rain - Carslisle Cullen/Jasper Hale - oneshot - (little-diable)

Yandere cullen brothers - headcannon - (angelsworks)

Birthday! - alice cullen - Oneshot - (another-fantasy-world)

Sub - Alice Cullen - headcannon - (fairydxll)

Dating jasper - Headcannon - (kaylawritesfics)

Regrets - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (undercoveravenger)

Crush - Jasper Hale - Headcannon - (slytherbun)

Honesty hours - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (highwayorgantrade)

Exchange Student - Jasper Hale - headcannon - (nymphastoriasblog)

Texas - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (little-diable)

Texas 2.0 - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (little-diable)

Drops of water - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (little-diable)

Consequences - Jasper Hale - oneshot - (little-diable)

Primal instinct - Jasper Hale - oneshot - (little-diable)

Break my baby - Jasper Hale - oneshot - (little-diable)

Another one - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (little-diable)

Trust and lust - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (joelsgeetar)

Figure it out - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (k1nd4g4y)

Darlin, i adore you. - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (joelsgeetar)

Cold. - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (joelsgeetar)

Tell me all the ways to stay away - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (joelsgeetar)

Insomnia - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (junkdrawerfics)

Simple moments - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (junkdrawerfics)

Crushing - Jasper Hale - Headcannon - (wintervalewriter)

Accident - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (joelsgeetar)

Headcannon - Jasper Hale - (buckybarnesb-tch)

Awkward - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (the-twilight-diaries)

Stand up challenge - Jasper Hale - Oneshot - (mychemicalimagines)

Polar opposites - Jasper Hale - Headcannon (americancowgirl19)

Innocent - Jasper Hale/Edward Cullen - oneshot - (ameliora-j)

Sharing a mate - Jasper Hale/Emmett - (little-diable)

NSFW alphabet - Jasper Hale - (ineedmorefanfics)

Dream - Edward cullen - Oneshot - (sage-exe)

Chaotic imprint - Wolf Pack - Headcannon - (fatiguing-thoughts)

Being paul lahote's imprint - headcannon - (nymphastoriasblog)

Just leave it to bella - Paul Lahote - Oneshot- (bangtanmix73)

Wolf form - Jacob Black - Headcannon - (qdbs-writes)

Wet clothes - Jacob Black - Oneshot - (t-h-i-n-g)

Secret - Jacob Black - Oneshot - (maladaptive---daydreamer)

Notes! All of these are not mine, the users of the author is in the "()".

Navigation.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Hello! I am doing Kinktober this year; here is the month's menu.

Minors do not interact!

1 ☆ 𝘽𝙚𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙟𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙑𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨

2 ☆ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙍𝙖𝙘𝙚: 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙡 𝘿𝙞𝙭𝙤𝙣

3 ☆ 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙚𝙭: 𝘽𝙤 𝙎𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧

4 ☆ 𝘽𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙡𝙚 𝘾𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣

5 ☆ 𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙀𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠

6 ☆ 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚: 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

7 ☆ 𝘽𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙜𝙚: 𝙍𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚 𝙆𝙧𝙖𝙮

8 ☆ 𝙎𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙪𝙨 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

9 ☆ 𝙁𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙎𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙎𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙩

10 ☆ 𝘾𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙎𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙚

11 ☆ 𝘽��𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙: 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙎𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙝

12 ☆ 𝙋𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙗𝙖

13 ☆ 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚: 𝙃𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙖 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙬𝙨

14 ☆ 𝘾𝙖𝙧 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

15 ☆ 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠

16 ☆ 𝙎𝙚𝙭 𝙏𝙖𝙥𝙚: 𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧

17 ☆ 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝘿𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙪𝙨 𝙇𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙣

18 ☆ 𝙃𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠: 𝘿𝙪𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙑𝙖𝙣 𝘿𝙚𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚

19 ☆ 𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙮: 𝘼𝙡𝙛𝙞𝙚 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨

20 ☆ 𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮

21 ☆ 𝙏𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙙: 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙩

22 ☆ 𝙈𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙗𝙖𝙡

23 ☆ 𝙊𝙪𝙩𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧: 𝘾𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙖/𝙋𝙖𝙥𝙖 𝙀𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙨 𝙄𝙑

24 ☆ 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚: 𝙔𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙪 𝙐𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖

25 ☆ 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 & 𝘼𝙡𝙛𝙞𝙚 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨

26 ☆ 𝙂𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙁𝙖𝙩 𝙂𝙪𝙢/𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙤 𝙏𝙤𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪

27 ☆ 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙊𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨𝙢: 𝙍𝙚𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙚 𝙆𝙧𝙖𝙮

28 ☆ 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝘿𝙤𝙜𝙨

29 ☆ 𝙒𝙖𝙭 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮: 𝙀𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧

30 ☆ 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙉𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙝

31 ☆ 𝙑𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙒𝙖𝙧: 𝙅𝙞𝙢 𝙃𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙧

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their work being copied, translated, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

[chiefdirector]

Chiefdirector's Top 23 of 2023

Heres my favourite fics, in no particular order, I read this year, (they may not have been posted this year)

Soulmate (Gabriel x Reader) by @blurryhoney

2. You're doing that now? (Tim Mcgee x Reader) by @specialagentmonkey

3. Built on a fault (Marko x Vamp!Reader) by @theyreonlynoodlesmike

4. Lover Come Home (Thomas Thorne x Reader) by @multifandomfix

5. Missing Her (Jethro Gibbs x Reader) by @hotch-stufff

6. Flashes (Jack Gibson x Reader) by @just-my-fandom

7. Finding my way to you (Matt Murdock x Reader x Foggy Nelson) by @raelwrites

8. Merry and Bright (Tim Bradford x Reader) by @fluentmoviequoter

9. nothing could protect her, not even her little red hood (Luke Danes x Reader) by @imyourbratzdoll

10. Don't You Dare (Eddie Diaz x Reader) by @megalony

11. Bittersweet (Eddie Diaz x Reader x Evan Buckly) by @megalony

12. Agents Dinozzo (Tony Dinozzo x Reader) by @slutforsilverfoxes

13. we're gonna be fine (Finnick Odair x Reader) by @rafeology

14. Phone Calls (David x Reader) by @kurt-nightcrawler

15. Untitled (Hank McCoy x Reader by @mx-pastelwriting

16. Four Slaps and a Kiss (Dwight Schrute x Reader) by @profeyandere

17. Perfect Pair (Aaron Hotchner x Reader) by @ssahotchnerr

18. Big Jim (Jim Hopper x Reader) by @hopsgirl

19. Blood for Blood (Ao Volturi x Reader) by @the-volturi-diaries

20. Goat Legs (Charles Xavier x Reader) by @companionjones

21. Fluff Alphabet (David x Reader) by @blueberrypancakesworld

22. Untitled (Harvey Specter x Reader) by @youvebeenlivingfictional

23. As the Crow Flies [part two - part three - part four] (Alfie Solomans x Reader) by @solomons-finest-rum

[thepastelpeach]

What Once Was, and What Now Is

hey so, like, i haven’t written fanfiction in forever but i was so inspired by everyone’s fics based on my animatic, so i decided to throw my own thoughts into the broil! sorry if it aint the best, seriously this thing tried to go in like, seven different directions. anyway, enjoy!

Virgil lands with a huff, groaning around the air rushing into his lungs to replace the breath just knocked out of them. His backside hurts from the impact and he can already feel bruises forming on his pale skin where he wasn’t quick enough to deflect the blows.

Sensing movement in front of him he cracks open his eyes, having previously squeezed them shut in anticipation for the fall. A sword glints just below his chin, the sharp tip inches from his throat, and he follows the blade up to glare at the one wielding it.

Roman smirks back, his normally impeccable chestnut hair and uniform awry. His chest heaves with exhaustion, a thin layer of sweat gleaming on his forehead, but his warm brown eyes are alight with mischief and amusement. Said amusement boils into chuckles as he lowers his sword, replacing it instead with an olive branch in the form of an offered hand.

“If it makes you feel better Ol’ Fearful, you almost posed a challenge this time around.”

Virgil scoffs bitterly, but allows the knight to pull him to his feet, “What an achievement, a knight beating a simple messenger boy. You must be so proud of yourself, Sir-Sucks-A-Lot.”

Roman just laughs louder at the venom dripping from his words, knowing full well there’s no actual heat behind them. Virgil busies himself with dusting the dirt from his clothes and retrieving his own sword- a duller practice sword that pales in comparison to Roman’s intricately crafted one- to hide the flush that usually comes to his cheeks upon hearing the knight’s laugh.

“Come now Virgil,” Roman says, sheathing his sword and approaching the other man with a hearty clap on the back, “to still think of yourself as a lowly messenger boy after all this time would be an insult to my excellent tutelage!”

Virgil allows himself a moment to soak in the physical contact before shrugging him off with a huff and an exaggerated eye roll, “You praise yourself as if you’re actually training me to be an knight. Sorry to burst your bubble Princey, but I’m no one’s squire, let alone yours. Remember, we agreed you’d teach me the bare minimum on how to defend myself, nothing more.”

He notices the way Roman usually preens at that particular nickname, but doesn’t comment on it as the knight quickly barrels the conversation forward, “Well of course I know you’re not an actual knight-in-training, but if you’d only apply yourself more I’m positive that would be a possibility for the future!”

Virgil’s catches the laugh in his throat, disguising it as another scoff, “Thanks, but I think I’ll save the heroics for the more-” he gives Roman a pointed look “brashful and annoying.”

“I’ll have you eating those words soon enough, my Dark and Stormy Knight!” Roman proclaims with his usual dramatic flare, drawing his sword again with a flourish and a set grin.

Virgil groans, but drops down into a defensive stance regardless. He’d really rather not go for another- what was it at this point? Forth? Fifth?- round, but he finds he has trouble saying no to the fanciful knight when he looks so eager and happy to just be around Virgil.

So when he rushes forward with a louder than necessary battle cry, Virgil just grins and raises his sword to prepare for the oncoming blow.

There’s a loud metallic echo of steel on steel followed quickly by the sounds of a sword scraping along tile. Virgil barely has the time to register his weapon being knocked from his hands before he’s being kicked to the ground, landing on his back with a sharp cry of pain.

He struggles to push himself up on his hands, his entire body aches and the blood dripping from the cut above his eye causes the cracked floor to blur below him. Or maybe it’s the pain in his broken ribs that’s causing his head to spin, it would certainly explain why it’s suddenly extremely difficult to breath.

Regardless of the cause, he does manage to sort through his scrambled thoughts enough to hear the click click click of heels on tile growing closer. He keeps his head bowed, still unable to look him in the eye, even after having spent what seemed like hours getting his ass kicked by him.

He chuckles above him, a dark and twisted sound that causes Virgil’s stomach to tie itself into knots for entirely different reasons then it used to. Virgil fights the urge to curl in on himself, partly because he doesn’t want to appear weak(or, well weaker) and partly cause he’s not sure he even can without passing out from the pain of moving.

He, however, sees through him and tsks almost in disappointment, “Giving up already, Virgil? I can’t say I’m surprised, you never were very good at sparring, despite my best efforts to teach you. It would seem even I can’t fix every failure.”

The words cut deep, deeper than any wound he’s been inflicted on this battlefield, and Virgil silently curses the burning behind his eyes. Virgil hadn’t ever realized how much the truth could truly hurt. In the end Virgil had failed. Failed to lead the people when they truly needed him, as evident by the cries of pain, for help, he can hear even from inside the deserted castle foyer. Failed to protect his friends, his king. He can almost see them now, Logan and Patton clinging desperately to each other as they navigate a crumbling palace in search for their monarch and friend.

Worst of all, as he finally looks up into the eyes of the man looming over him, he realizes he’s failed the one he loves the most.

Roman, his Roman with the perfect chestnut hair and white uniform and warm brown eyes, does not stare back. Instead it’s a creature who bares his face, which is covered in dirt and blood, and speaks in a broken, twisted version of his voice.

His usual white knightly attire has been replaced with a more regal uniform composed of blacks and greys, now coated in a thick layer of dust and ash. The scarf still secured around Virgil’s neck suddenly weighs ten times heavier.

A flower crown rests uptop his head, the petals of each rose a dark, consuming black. Thick thorns dig into into his scalp, thin dark veins branching out across his skin from the point of contact. Virgil notes that they seem longer and thicker than when he first saw them.

Apparently tired of his appraising, Roman raises the tip of his sword under Virgil’s chin -the cool metal causing him to flinch- and tilts his head up to finally meet his eyes, the one place Virgil was trying his best to avoid.

To starve off the inevitable, Virgil squeezes his eyes firmly shut and can practically feel Roman’s frustrated growl in his own chest, “Look at me Virgil.”

He refuses and for his disobedience is rewarded with a thin slit to the underside of his jaw as Roman slides the edge of his weapon along his skin, “Look at me, look at your king.”

Shaking and fearful of the sword inching dangerously closer to his throat, Virgil obeys. The tears he’s been trying so desperately to keep at bay rush down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the grime, as he looks into glowing yellow eyes. There’s nothing behind them, no warmth or chivalry or dumb pet names, and Virgil sobs.

The cold of the sword disappears, quickly being replaced by equally cold fingers as Roman kneels down to coo softly at him, those empty yellow eyes now unbearably close, “Now now my precious pet, there’s no need for that. I do so hate seeing you in pain.”

His fingers tighten into a vice like grip around his bruised cheek and Virgil screams at the white hot flash of pain that shoots through him. Roman laughs over his whimpers, wrenching his hand away and wiping it on his shirt as he stands back up with a flourish that, in any other situation, would have Virgil fondly rolling his eyes.

Now he just keeps his head bowed, defeated and completely broken. He had already failed, whatever came next he would deserve.

He hears as Roman drags his sword across the floor, feels rather than sees him settles the blade against the back of his neck briefly before raising it above his head, recognizes the sounds of it cutting through the air.

Virgil just closes his eyes and braces for the oncoming blow.

[infaethable]

“i love you. this has been the worst conversation of my life, possibly, and i am going to take immediate steps to make sure nothing like it ever happens again.”

he steps forward, placing his hands on gorgug’s shoulders, and stares into his eyes.

“step one…” he pauses for emphasis, “please stop talking about how hot the ball is.”

-

[or: one day riz is going to stop dressing entirely like an extra on newsies and people are going to notice. five times someone else noticed and one time fabian accepted that he does too.]

[id-rather-be-writing]

I won camp nanowrimo! My goal of 50k was hard to tackle that all went on in my life this month, but I did it. I started yesterday off with 42,000 words, but I told myself I had come too far to fall short. Not quite sure how I banged out 7,000 after work before 9:30pm but I did it. I’m so proud. I feel like a queen this morning! Hope you all did well on your goals! And remember, even if you didn’t make it, the progress and hard work you put in this month was amazing and you should still feel very proud! https://www.instagram.com/elles_novel_experience/p/Bw6u13oH-R7/?igshid=8xxptfpb0gf8

[willieowinsbury]

as op of that post who is highly ivested in riz that would love to hear about the height discourse... (elemental cheerleader voice) tell me more about that

OK. so we KNOW he's at least four foot! because kalina is somewhere in the upper fours, and riz is canonically only a few inches shorter than her! so he's not that short! he's not tiny tiny! i don't understand why people make him toddler sized <3

[pastel-writes]

*i chuck this at you guys*

A new fic!

[ao3feed-fabriz]

in the passenger side of your best friend's ride

by PastelWrites

There’s a tap against the glass next to his head, and Riz jumps, and cranes his neck to look out the window.

Adaine is there, crouching so she can be at his eye level, and she gives them both a once-over. Adaine takes in the way Fabian looming over him, the way Riz is perfectly tucked in against his body, and she cocks a brow at him.

"I think this is a pretty decent present, Riz.”

-

Adaine is sick of watching Riz pine over Fabian, and decides to take matters into her own (and the rest of the Bad Kids') hands.

(Or, as summarized by my friend who requested this, 'not saying the bad kids should lock them in a van til they talk about how in love with each other they are but-' and then I wrote 4.9k for it. Takes place after Sophomore Year, with only mild/referenced spoilers!)

Words: 4963, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Fabriz 'Ficlets'

Fandoms: Dimension 20 (Web Series)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Riz Gukgak, Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Adaine Abernant, mentioned - Character, The Bad Kids (Dimension 20)

Relationships: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster

Additional Tags: Getting Together, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff

Published: June 22, 2020 at 10:14PM Read on Ao3

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Sunwarmed Nectarine || Demon Slayer

It wasn’t hard to realize- Love’s the death of peace of mind.

“Aw, come on Shinobu!”, she pleaded, hands together and eyes bright with honesty, “It’s always best to be prepared, and keep our skills sharp!”

“Yes, I... suppose so, Mitsuri.”, is the calm answer as Shinobu dries her hands, untying the strips of fine linen that kept her sleeves out of the way of her work, “Lead the way.”

“Hooray!”, squealed the pink-tinged hashira before she grabbed Shinobu’s hand to pull her along, “Come on, the boys just left the sparring room free!!”

“Ah, no weapons?”

Mitsuri giggled, suddenly awkward with a hand absently going to a heavy braid, “I WOULD’VE but... big bro- I mean, Teacher said it wouldn’t be wise just in case I got, well. Nicked.”

Shinobu raised an eyebrow before giggling, “Ah- Yes, I suppose he has good ideas on occasion~”

“Shinobu! He’s quite smart, he just forgets it sometimes!”

“Of course, Mitsuri.”

Mitsuri felt her cheeks warm at the way Shinobu’s glossed lips formed her name. She shook her head slightly, swallowing hard before clearing her throat and discarding what she wouldn’t need.

They faced each other in their uniforms- no haoris or decorations needed, feet bare against the tatami. They faced each other for a heartbeat, for the length of one deep breath.

Shinobu could feel herself soften, let her peripheral pull in every detail of the woman in front of her- the curve of a hip, the swell of her bosom, the way her lips parted as she exhaled. A shiver raced down the insect hashira’s spine- and then they moved.

Each strike cold and calculated from either side, each narrow avoidance of contact pulling at heartstrings pulled taut for eternity as they chased and fled in equal measure from each other; Shinobu ducked a strike just barely before throwing one of her own and glancing the blow off of Mitsuri’s collarbone and earning a squeak of surprise as she stumbled.

Shinobu paused, blinking lavender-accented eyes as braids gave out in a cascade of color; hair falling thick and heavy as a siren as Mitsuri’s gaze hardened almost playfully.

“Good one, Shinobu.”, she said, breathless from their earlier speed.

Shinobu’s breath caught in her throat, she cleared it and nodded after forcing a smile to prevent her jaw going slack.

They stood again- calculating and wicked in the sweetest way- sugar syrup laced in something they refused to name.

They clashed again- delight and demand blurring and mixing as their blows lost their calculating edge and became almost teasing; excuses to touch each other in a language that needed no words. Strikes at the face became excuses to brush fingertips near smooth necks, the midsection an excuse to be close to a higher heartbeat or the round of a hip.

Shinobu’s hairclip gave way- letting her own shorter waves flutter free like a hawkmoth’s wings as she pushed close to Mitsuri- her smile unwavering and almost elegant in its accidental sultriness before suddenly Mitsuri’s back hit the tatami with a loud thud.

Shinobu pinned one of Mitsuri’s arms to the floor with an almost vicious strength belied by her frame and there they lay- Shinobu straddling Mitsuri’s firm waist and the tips of their noses touching as they panted; breath mingling between them like perfume.

“I think-”, a panted breath, “That I am victorious, Mitsuri.”

“Y-Yeah.”, was the soft answer, green eyes gilded in the soft light around them, “I... Maybe? I think so, yeah.”

Shinobu tilted her head, a lock of hair falling over her eye as she took in the sight below her- Mitsuri’s hair spread in roiling watercolor waves like the painting of old masters- delicate strokes and blended lines and the insect hashira once again felt her breath catch.

“You.. don’t understand how lovely you are, Mitsuri.”

“No, I... I do.”, was the answer, “But I wanted... I want to know how lovely you think I am. I want to know what you think of me-”

“I am the silent echo that follows your laughter.”, she says, her lips brushing over Mitsuri’s with every word, “I am the moth that flutters around your comforting light. I am the monarch made of yearning and you are the cosmos blooms I orbit, hoping for just a taste.”

Mitsuri felt her heartbeat rattling her ribs before she moved her head to press their lips together. Shinobu gave a soft hum of surprise, and then of shock as a rock of hips and a push of elbows resulted in Mitsuri lounging between the insect hashira’s spread legs and each curve pressed against the subtle figure Shinobu hid beneath her uniform.

The kiss jarred apart, then returned full force with a soft gasp between them as hands buried in hair and clutched desperately at the color of spring and summer and safety between cherry blossoms and aged wisteria.

Shinobu pulled away with a rapid whisper of, “You shouldn’t you’ll end up-”

“I don’t care.”, said Mitsuri with a waver to her voice, her emotion bubbling over like cordial as she buried her face into Shinobu’s neck and breathed in the smell of flowers and sword polish, “I don’t care, I don’t care- please, just let me kiss you until I can’t please-”

“My sk-skin!”, gasped Shinobu, “Where my skin is dry is safe-”

Mitsuri hummed, burying her face against the cool smoothness of Shinobu’s neck and wriggled her arms to wrap around the smaller Hashira as she felt slim ankles lock together and legs close around her waist.

Mitsuri felt her lips tingle, and grinned- using her sleeve to wipe away the scented oil she used as a gloss to mitigate the poison transfer; and she heard Shinobu giggle sweetly.

“...Did you plan this?”

“...Yeah, I did.”

“Well thought out, Mitsuri.”, she mused, freeing her hands to pet over unbraided hair, “...But why?”

“You are the only person who... who never said you loved me for what I DO for you. Only the things that I am.”

The embrace tightened, “...It made me feel. Wanted. In a way I’d never felt before.”

Shinobu felt her face grow warm, all the way to the shell of her ears and she wished she could hide in her haori, “I... I see-”

“How long, Shinobu?”, asked Mitsuri with that brush of innocence in her words as she looked up with decidedly coy eyes, “How long have you wanted in the garden?”

An answering sly laugh, “Now.. That would be telling.”

A kiss to Shinobu’s chin before Mitsuri pulled away, “Then knock at the gate after sundown- I’m sure it will open.”

And with a nymph’s giggle, Mitsuri spirited away with a flutter of cherry blossom petals and snatched her carefully bundled possessions before bounding out the door with all the spryness of a march hare.

Shinobu sat up, blinking for a moment as she tucked her hair behind her ear before the innuendo clicked in her mind.

“A-Ah. I see... well played, Love Hashira.”

Outside the door, familiar flame-bright hair was reflected in windows as Tengen looked up- Kyoujurou simply stepping aside and raising his free arm as he spoke with his opposite hand touching his own throat.

“Hello Mitsuri! Now as I was saying-”

“HELLO RENGOKU GOODBYE RENGOKU I HAVE TO GO BYE BYYYYYEEEE.”

“The hell was THAT about?”, mushed the flashier of the two as Kyoujurou bellowed a laugh from the bottom of his chest. Both witness Shinobu take dazed steps from the room Mitsuri had bolted from- and were overcome with snickering.

[mx-pastelwriting]

𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙡𝙚 𝘾𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣

𝙍𝙚𝙙*=𝙎𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩/𝙇𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣/𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩!

𝙊𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚~=𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

𝙋𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙡𝙚^= 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙤𝙧 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙊𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨/𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨

Picnic~ GN! Reader

Summary: Having a picnic with Carlisle on his day off.

Warnings: Fluff, Established a Relationship

-

Hunger^ GN! Reader

Summary: Carlisle hungry black eyes leaving you in the cold night air.

Warnings: Established a Relationship, Little Angst, Carlisle being a vampire

-

Blonde Haired Stranger^ GN! Reader

Summary: Hitchhiking your way through forks, luck hits you at night as a kind man offers you a ride.

Warnings: Hitchhiking, Stranger

-

Biting* GN! Reader

Summary: Carlisle being to close to your neck as he cums in you.

Warnings: Smut, Biting, Blood, Vampire & Human

-

Trust^ GN! Reader

Summary: As Carlisle friends arrive your glued to his side as they look at you with hunger.

Warnings: Vampire & Human, Established Relationship, Vampires, Fight-or-Flight

-

Thrown Blood^ & Liquid Sliver^ GN! Reader

Summary: Being pregnant with Carlisle still new things to learn from having a hybrid child.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Vampire & Human, Throwing Up, Being sick, Blood drinking, Crying/Tears, Blood bag

-

No Promises~ GN! Reader

Summary: Hurting yourself on something, then Carlisle helps you.

Warnings: Render Injured, Domestic Carlisle, Doctor Carlisle, Established Relationship, Talk of Blood, Fluff ig

-

Dark Eyes~^ GN! Reader

Summary: Coming home from a trip to your dark eyed lover.

Warnings: Fluff, Carlisle hungry, Black (Hungry) eyes, Worry, Talk of starvation, Light Angst

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

Sleep Headcanon~ GN! Reader Summary: What its like to sleep with Aro,Cauis,Marcus, and Carlisle

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship

- Morning Headcanon~ GN! Reader Summary: The Volturi Kings when you wake up with them. +Carlisle (You can't forget the eye candy)

Warning: Fluff, Mention of being watched while sleeping, Established Relationship

-

First time in bed* GN! Reader

Summary: First time in bed. Minors do not interact!

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Establishing/Established Relationship

-

Finding out their a vampire~ GN! Reader

Summary: Finding out their a vampire.

Warnings: Fluff, Established a Relationship, Vampire bitting, Mentions of blood, Some fluff

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their work being copied, translated, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

[thepastelpeach]

Of Crowns and Thorns: plots and stuff (cont.)

sorry that this took so long, it was in my drafts forever

About a month later nearly all the castle staff had roses given to them by the Head Knight

It was hard to walk through the halls without spotting at least one person with a flower somewhere on their person

And even then Virgil felt no reason to be worried, not with the pleasant air that had been brought in by Roman’s continued kindness

He did find it a little strange when he walked into town for supplies, as he was set to embark on a week long journey soon, and found a good portion of the citizens also had those same dark red roses

But he pushes it to the back of his mind, after all who was he to judge when the same flower lay securely in his pack

It was a few days after Roman had first started handing them out that he had approached Virgil with a rose in hand

Roman had already tried to give one to the others in the little group

Logan had refused, as he found little trinkets such as that unnecessary and that Roman did not need it to prove he cared

Patton also refused, though it crushed him to, on account of being allergic to roses

Thomas had actually accepted the gift, but it remained on his desk where Roman had placed it, untouched on account of how busy Thomas currently was

Virgil accepts the flower, flustered despite that it wasn’t necessarily an intimate gesture as Roman had already given out dozens of them

But he spots the blush on the knight’s cheeks as he hurriedly excuses himself and he counts them even

Virgil, ever overly cautious, is sure to trim the sharp thorns, careful not to prick himself

And then he places it in his messenger bag, where it would stay unless he found a moment to himself where he would be able to admire it without worrying about anyone seeing his absolute lovestruck expression

When Remy had caught him gazing lovingly down at the plant as he packed for his journey the next day he refused to let his former apprentice live it down

“Girl you are so whipped and you’re not even tapping that yet.” “Shut up like you’re one to talk, I’ve seen the way you look at Picani.” “The tea spiller had become the spilt, I’m so proud of you.”

Roman was waiting at the gates for him the next day, wanting to see Virgil off

And for the first time, in the early morning light before Roman has had the time put himself together for the day, Virgil can see the exhaustion on his face

His bags aren’t as black or defined as his own(spending endless nights worrying about everything in existence will do that to you), but they carry a weight far heavier than Virgil’s

But he still smiled just as bright, if not a little crooked, at Virgil and wished him a swift and safe travel

And Virgil wants to ask him about it, about the weight in his eyes and the stiffness of his shoulders, but the gates have begun to rise and if he doesn’t set out now he’ll be behind on his deliver

So instead he returns Roman’s smile with a smaller one of his own and a promise to be back soon, resolving to confront Roman about it when he returns

And once he’s rode a good few minutes outside the city he reaches into his pack to rub a petal of the rose between his fingers, trying to find comfort in it

It’s a few days after Virgil’s departure that Roman is confronted by the strange man, this time in the comfort of his own room

The knight had been sitting hunched on the edge of his bed, staring unblinking down at the rose clutched delicately in his hands

That sickening feeling from weeks before never went away, despite Roman’s best efforts to smother it, but strangely he found that the more roses he handed out the less the feeling seemed to bother him

The gratitude, the absolute love and adoration he received from those he gifted a rose to, seemed to pour through him, mixing with the sick feeling into something Roman could not understand

It was addicting, the praise, and Roman was infected by it

By the desire for more

More praise, more respect, more love, more more more more

Had Roman been in his right mind he might’ve aquated the feeling to a disease that was consuming him

But he wasn’t, so he let it continue to spread, infecting his everyday life

It kept him awake into the early morning hours, fantasizing about a world that loved him, that worshipped him

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by a sudden voice arising from the shadows in the corner of his room

He looks up just in time to see a haunting yellow glow in the darkness, followed shortly by the stranger he met all those weeks ago stepping out of the shadows

Roman jumps to his feet, acting more on his years of knight training and instinct than actual thought

But he found himself frozen in place as the stranger, this man, this creature, slithered up to him

“You’ve done well, your majesty,” he coos, gliding effortlessly around Roman’s prone figure, “For a moment I had worried you would not accept my offer.”

Roman knows he should be afraid, should be fighting to get this man out of the palace he somehow managed to sneak into

It’s his duty as a knight, as the king’s protector, as Thomas’ friend

But instead he feels his body relax as the man speaks in that soothing hiss, his voice worming its way into his mind and turning everything fuzzy

“But it seems I had no reason to be concerned,” the warlock continues. “The people love you, I hear them sing your praises in the streets and in their homes.”

The man steps in front of Roman, reaching into his cloak as he says, “I believe it is time you received a crown fit for the king you’ve proven yourself to be”

And he pulls out a flower crown comprised of red roses, similar to the one laying on the floor where Roman had dropped it

“For you, your majesty,” the warlock gives a graciously bow, crown raised in an offer and Roman eyes it hesitantly

But that same feeling that had been tormenting him for weeks causes a glaze to fall over his eyes and any hint of hesitance to flow from his mind

He reaches almost robotically for the crown, taking it from the warlock’s hands and placing it uptop his own head

Instantly the thorns cut into his skin and for a brief moment all of Roman’s senses come rushing back to him so he can feel the blinding pain splitting his head in half

He collapses to his knees with a heart wrenching shout, clutching at his hair and curling in on himself

The roses rapidly drain of their beautiful red hue until all that remains is a deathly black and veins start to grow from where the thorns pierce his skin, pulsing a soft purple

Through the blur of tears Roman sees the shoes of the stranger edge into his vision, that hissing voice just barely managing to pierce through the deafening static in his ears

“I promised you a kingdom, but I never said I’d give you an entirely new one”

And then, darkness

Outside we see, just as suddenly as he had reacted, Roman go completely still

Slowly he rises to his feet, his arms hanging limply at his sides, and stands at full attention

His bangs parts so we can see the blankness of his stare and the faintly glowing black of the veins branching out from where the thorns dig into his forehead

And then that stoic expression melts away, replaced by a devilish smirk

Roman strides over to his table, not seeing the figure that watches the scene with a smile, and grabs his sword

He pauses, spotting his reflection in his vanity mirror, and scowls

Reaching up he tears the red sash from his chest, walking to his open window

He tosses the sash into the air, watching it for only a moment as the wind catches it and carries it away, before turning around and striding out of the room

Afterall, he had a false king to deal with and a kingdom to rule

And Roman, from within his own mind where he’s forced to watch his body carry out this scene, cries

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