#this brought to you by catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I cleaned the tub

[notbecauseofvictories]

apart from anything else, it's amazing to me how loving a person completely and utterly transforms them. they are never just some person; they become your person, you can't look at them without seeing it.

[permanentswaps]

A Second Lease - The Wedding

See the original from @mrwavellswaps here. Its probably my favorite story ever.

Five years had passed since I made the decision to seal myself into my son's body permanently. And let me tell you, it's been nothing short of ecstasy. Today, as I stand here in front of the mirror, adjusting my tie, I can't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. It's my wedding day, and I'm about to marry the love of my life, Sean.

As I straighten my tie, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I can't help but pause and appreciate the sight. I turn slightly, flexing my biceps, admiring the sculpted physique that now defines me. The reflection staring back at me is a testament to the transformation I've undergone. This body, once my son's, now mine, is a masterpiece – sculpted muscles, flawless skin, and a confidence that radiates from every pore.

With a smirk, I run my hands over my chest, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath my fingertips. I lift my shirt slightly, revealing the chiseled abs that now adorn my torso. It's a sight to behold, one that fills me with pride and satisfaction.

"You're looking good, Jay," I say to myself, unable to tear my gaze away from the mirror. I straighten my shirt and adjust my collar, feeling a surge of excitement as I prepare to embark on this new chapter of my life. Today is not just about marrying Sean; it's about celebrating the journey that has brought me to this moment.

There hasn't been a single day where I haven't felt thankful for the choice I made. I can still vividly remember the day I proposed to Sean. We were hiking in the mountains, surrounded by breathtaking views. I got down on one knee, my heart pounding with nervous excitement, and asked him to spend the rest of his life with me. The look of joy on his face as he said yes will forever be etched in my memory.

Meanwhile, my dad's life hasn't been as rosy as mine. Every month that went by, he still went back to the woods, hoping against hope that he can reverse the swap. I can't say I blame him. After all, since I've been in control, this body has only gotten better. But unfortunately for him, no matter how many times he threw coins into that mystical well, it still never worked.

As the years went on, I noticed he began to look older than before. Whereas I kept my hair neat and trimmed and – in my eyes – quite youthful, he let himself go a bit. His long hair was still handsome, but definitely aged him up.

As he struggled to hold onto his youth, I eventually succumbed to a bit of guilt and couldn't keep the truth from him any longer. I came clean about what happened – about how I made that wish and sealed our fates. And let's just say, he didn't take it well.

"I made the choice that was best for me, Dad. It's time you accepted it," I stated firmly.

He stormed off, cursing me as he walked. "This is how you fucking repay me?" he shouted. "And why does that make any sense? Even if you wanted to keep my body forever, why would you make it so that the well wouldn’t work on me anymore?"

You might be asking yourself the same question. Why did I make both our bodies impervious to magic? Well, to be honest, I needed to ensure that I would be the only Jay – no other versions to detract from the attention. Nobody to take away the perfect life that I was living. And someone to stand in my place, so people wouldn't make my life a hassle coming and asking what happened to my dad.

Looking back, I can't help but acknowledge the brilliance of my decision. I mean, come on, look at me – I'm hot, young, and irresistible. But I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to let myself keep this version of it forever. But hey, I still look amazing, and that's not changing anytime soon.

As for my dad, he refused to come to the wedding. I'm not surprised, really. Ever since I came clean about what happened, our relationship has been strained, to say the least. But you know what? It's no bother. Because at the end of the day, Sean is all I need.

As I stand in front of the mirror, lost in my thoughts, the sound of the door creaking open breaks the silence. Sean's presence behind me is electric, his hungry smirk sending a jolt of anticipation through my body. As he wraps his arms around my waist, I can't help but smile, feeling his warmth against my skin.

"You clean up well, babe," Sean's voice is like velvet, low and husky. His fingers trace along the contours of my chest, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth of his breath against my ear sends a thrill through me as he whispers, "But you know what would make this look even better?"

Before I can respond, our lips meet in a fiery, passionate kiss, igniting a blaze of desire between us. With a teasing tug, Sean rips off my shirt, leaving only the tie around my neck. "You're one sexy hunk," he murmurs, his gaze filled with hunger as he takes in my exposed chest.

Moving towards the bed, Sean takes hold of the tie, using it as a leash to guide me, a silent command that I'm more than willing to follow. As he lines up his cock against my eager hole, I can't help but marvel at his size, every thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"You've been putting in extra hours at the gym, babe," Sean chuckles sexily, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "I can tell."

He keeps pounding me. Its so good I can hardly stand it.

"God, Jay," Sean gasps, his voice strained with pleasure, "you feel so good."

Hearing him use that name, Jay, ignites a fire within me, fueling my desire as I flex my muscles, showing off for him.

As our passion builds, reaching its peak, we both find release our massive loads together, our bodies moving in perfect harmony as waves of ecstasy wash over us. In the aftermath, Sean's fingers trace patterns across my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "You're amazing," he whispers, his voice filled with reverence and adoration.

As Sean puts his shirt back on, I can't help but voice my concern about staining it. But he just chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't worry, babe," he reassures me, "it'll dry. And then, when we're on the altar and dancing the night away, it'll be our sexy little secret."

Later, as we stand at the altar, preparing to exchange our vows, my mind drifts back to our passionate encounter. Aside from being extremely horny for him, I also feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and happiness that Sean brings into my life. Becoming Jay and making his life my own was definitely the right decision. And as Sean and I embark on this new chapter together, I'm ready for whatever lies ahead.

[risingoftime]

INTRUDER 🕷 HOBIE BROWN

a/n: my inbox for requests is now closed! I have quite a bit that I need to catch up on. if you already sent one in, don’t worry I’ll be working on it! ₊˚⊹ 18+

During exam season, you have had one of the most stressful times of the year. Hobie was supposed to come over to celebrate completing your last exam, yet you haven’t heard from him since noon. Hobie had always been a shite texter. It was now closer to midnight, and although this wasn’t surprising, you still worried if he was okay. Music blasted throughout your bathroom, drowning out your thoughts as you entered your bedroom to change. Without looking, you collided with a body, causing your towel to drop to the floor. 

Hobie stared at your naked body in complete awe. He innocently went into your bedroom to surprise you with food but walked in on you exiting the bathroom instead. Hobie wasn't sure if he should avert his eyes or simply run out of the flat. Your facial expression mirrored his complete and utter shock. It took everything in Hobie not to let his eyes wander over your perky breasts and supple skin. 

“Hobie, look away, damn it!” You shrieked. Your face felt hot with embarrassment from watching his eyes grow with lust. Hobie looked up to the ceiling as you rushed to grab a robe. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself! Just forget I’ve seen you naked before,” he declared. But, the image was now implanted into his brain. The way your skin glowed from your favourite lotion, the sweet scent radiated off of you. The smell itself enticed Hobie, making him needy for more. He felt his dick harden at the thought of you being naked in the same room as him. Very aware that the tent in his pants was prominent enough to be noticed by you. Fuck it. Hobie turned to watch you as you slid on the black silk robe. In such a rush, you didn’t bother to put anything on underneath. He tried his hardest not to think about how easy it would be for the robe to slip off.

“You could’ve called!” 

“Could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” Hobie smirked. If he had called you earlier, Hobie wouldn’t have been able to glimpse the beautiful body you hid underneath your usual attire. Sweatpants and an oversized tee, in his opinion, that’s when Hobie found you the prettiest. Although it wasn’t his intention, the sight of your nude body topped everything. 

Better than he had imagined in the late nights when he had felt alone. Hobie knew harbouring such feelings for his best friend wasn't right. Yet it wasn’t like he could control it… or at least that’s what he had told himself. Clearing your throat brought him to reality, and Hobie realized he was staring. 

“This is not a free show,” you stated. Although your voice appeared confident, your body language told another story. Hobie analyzed your inability to keep eye contact and the conscious placement of your arms across your chest to hide your erect nipples. He placed the pizza box on your desk, “Does food count as payment?”  Hobie joked in an attempt to break the ice. He always knew how to make light of any situation, especially one like this. 

“It depends. Did you order pineapple on it?” 

“Yeah, only half. I know how picky you can be.” He noticed your wandering gaze from the pizza box to himself. Hobie wasn’t gullible. He noted how your eyes paused on the growing tent in his pants. A mixture of curiosity and lust swirled in your expression. The tension in the air was palatable; you could practically taste it. You wondered how it would feel to take Hobie into your mouth and taste his cum. Hobie licked his pierced lips, sharing the same sentiment. You cleared your throat and lightly shook your head, failing to shake off the lewd thoughts that littered your mind. “That’s good 'cause I’m starving!” Your voice came out a pitch too high and louder than anticipated. 

Hobie watched as you walked towards the desk, towards him. When your body brushed the front of Hobie’s pants, his hand gripped your hip, keeping you in place. The thrum of your heartbeat overtook your senses, and all your mind could focus on was Hobie’s touch. The simple stroke of his fingertips toying with the loosely tied silk ribbon around your waist made it too easy to become enraptured. Hobie could hear your heartbeat thump loudly in your chest. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. 

“Admiring" was all Hobie said. 

You turned to face him with raised eyebrows, baiting him to continue. Hobie looked down at you and kept his hand firmly on your waist, bunching the fabric of your robe to one side. More of your skin is exposed for him to see. “Hey!” you exclaimed. 

“S’wrong? I’ll show mine if you show yours,” Hobie was needy and desperate to see your naked body, thrilled to take any chance to have you to himself. “Sit down on the chair,” you instructed softly, growing tired of him always making you flustered. The sudden change of attitude took Hobie aback, but didn’t object. In a swift motion, you removed your robe and climbed on top of your bed to face him, bare and vulnerable. 

“I want you to watch.”

“Just watch?” He sighed. 

You simply nodded, unsure if you could trust your voice to come out. This was a first for both of you, and you didn’t want to lose momentum. With open legs, use one hand to slowly glide your fingers down your lower stomach until they graze your clit. Your eyes remained on Hobie as he shifted in his seat, trying to ignore his aching desire. You rolled your hips against your hand, eliciting a low moan from your mouth, playing with the wet slickness that spilled in between your folds. “Such a pretty pussy,” Hobie groaned. The sight of you touching yourself made him feel hot and heavy. Hobie’s dick throbbed against his jeans, practically begging to be handled—a sweet punishment for walking in on you. He dutifully watched as you worked up your nerves, edging to climax. Observing your fingers gliding in and out of your pussy as your breathy moans echoed throughout the bedroom. The sound of your orgasm erased everything. Hobie couldn’t think of anything else, but he had wanted to illicit such a reaction. 

“Please,” Hobie whimpered. 

“Please, what? Use your words.” The shift in power dynamics ignited a fire within you. You didn’t know that Hobie could be submissive and utterly vulnerable, a side of him you had not seen before. “Please… let me fuck you” Hobie’s voice was barely above a whisper; it was unfamiliar territory for him to plead. Hobie might like to be in control, ahead of everyone except you. He relinquishes all restraint. A thin line he rarely crosses. Narrowing your eyes on Hobie, you don’t dare break eye contact as his dark gaze tracks your every move towards him. “Not yet,” you command. 

Getting down on your knees, you separate Hobie’s legs and settle yourself in between them. Your hands graze his thighs, slowly moving upwards and closer to his crotch. Unbuckling his studded belt, you tease him by stroking his cock through his boxers, lightly gripping around his thick girth. You can feel his dick jerk under your fingers as Hobie tries to hold back his sensitive nerves from making him finish in his pants. The mere sight of you bent down in front of him with his dick in your hand was doing him wonders. Your curls were expertly slicked back into a bun so he could see your dark brown eyes as your tongue swirled around his tip. Licking off the pre cum that coated Hobie’s skin before taking the head of his dick in your mouth.

“Agh fuck baby,” Hobie groaned. You took all of him in as he moaned loudly and convulsed in your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. You pull back up and wrap your hands around the base of his length, groping Hobie before swallowing him again. Your head bobbed as Hobie thrust into your mouth, unable to hold back. He was practically spilling onto your tongue. Hobie’s hands gripped the chair handles while keeping eye contact with heavy-lidded eyes. Dangerously close. “God-“ Hobie couldn’t hear anything else above you sloppily slurping his dick.  His whines did nothing but encourage you to suck harder. Your pussy pulsed around empty space, desperate to feel him.

Yet you remained patient, craving for Hobie to melt on your tongue. “I’m gonna- babe, I’m gonna come,” Hobie rasped. His hand-drawn to support the back of your neck as he continued to fuck your mouth. Hobie’s skin was smooth and soft compared to the rest of him. The hardness of his desire twitched before releasing streams of cum down your throat. Hobie let out a broken gasp as he continued to look down on you, watching with parted lips in the form of an “o.” Hobie’s eyes alluded to one thing: pure lust. His gaze ignited a fire inside you that you didn’t even know was lit. He lowered his head to brush his lips against yours before deepening the kiss. Hobie only paused to lift you off your knees and onto his lap to straddle his waist. His warm member is still slick with your spit as your folds glide along his length. 

You could hear Hobie’s staggered breath against your ear as he tried to hold onto the little composure he had left. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth,” Hobie whispered. Your cheeks grew hot from his bluntness. Feeling shy from his words was ridiculous when your actions earlier were nothing but innocent. Hobie kissed you intensely as if he believed you would’ve vanished before him. His tongue was demanding yet soft against yours, tasting himself with visor. Hobie’s hands gripped your ass while he moved his hips up to meet your core. He moaned into your mouth from feeling your wet pussy on his dick. The feeling of his cock becoming hard sent shivers throughout your body.

“I’m tired of waiting; I need you inside me.” It hadn’t mattered how close you were to each other. Your bodies still leaned in for more. Never enough. Your heart beats fast against your chest, loud enough that you are sure Hobie could hear it with anticipation of him aligning himself to slide inside you. You watch his abs flex beautifully underneath you.  He had wanted this, and God knows how bad he craved to feel your tight pussy wrap around him. Hobie’s body had gone still once you took in his full length, a stillness that only he could evoke. Taking it all in, silently admiring and immortalizing the outline of your curves as you sat on top of him. 

“Fuck, you’re so, ah-” Hobie was at a loss for words once you began to grind yourself up and down. His eyes rolled back, blissed out. No one has seen this vulnerable side of him but only you. Hobie cursed under his breath, holding you in place to feel the depth of each stroke. Both of you are in perfect sync. You thought him everywhere as he positioned himself to thrust into you vigorously from below. Slower and harder. Your walls clenched as your core tightened. “Say my name when you cum” Hobie rasped. Every tingling sensation sent you screaming and pleading for more of him. More of anything that he would provide, you would selfishly take it. Concentrating with one of his hands on your waist and the other groping your breasts was hard. As ecstasy rippled through, your fingers dug into his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Hobie!” You moaned. The sound of your wet pussy and Hobie’s whimpers filled the room. His hips stuttered, but his movements didn’t subside while he continued to push you further. Hobie bit his lip at seeing you undone on his dick. He wouldn’t be able to get the image out of his head. His eyebrows drew together in deep focus. He was holding back. “Let it out. Come inside me.” Hobie’s eyes met yours before his lips came over yours again, fierce and thorough. Pushing forward towards his own pleasure, beyond his own control. The sound that escaped his mouth could only be described as lewd. Hobie buried himself inside you, filling your pussy with his cum. The warmth of him dripped inside as you rode out the final waves like an aftershock. It never mattered how many times you fucked. You always craved him even more than the last time. To hear him sigh your name like a dying prayer.

navigation | hobie request ₊˚⊹

[poraphia]

"A Heart-Shaped Necklace."

heartbroken!wilbur x newlywed!reader 1971 words • 8.11.23 cw ~ unrequited love, heartbreak, depictions of vomiting. Reader uses she/her pronouns! wilbur soot masterlist

I was going to give you a heart-shaped necklace after a gig in Paris, but you met your future husband, and it wasn't me.

♡♡♡

“Will, seriously, we don’t have to do this, mate.”

I clutched the brim of the toilet seat. The bottomless pit in my stomach served me no good other than throwing up what little breakfast I had this morning. My temples pulsed as I could do nothing but kneel over what disgusting mess I’d created before me. I shook my head, exhaling a shuddered sigh. 

“I promised her. I promise we would perform…” I mumbled in a croaky voice. With what strength I could muster, I reached over to flush the toilet before standing up with wobbly knees. To prevent myself from stumbling I leaned against the stall’s wall, backing up a bit to unlock the door and to face my band mate. 

There stood Joe. The man that agreed to ditch our previous band to start Lovejoy. The man that has seen me through every breakdown and tear to my heart when I would catch a glimpse of her face at my shows. The man that has been with me through thick and thin. He gave me a half-hearted smile, but it wasn’t enough to hide his furrowed eyebrows and eyes glossing with concern.

“Will–”

“Joe, please!” I begged. I brushed past him and made my way toward the sink, washing my face to fight back the nausea. “I just– want to be there for her, okay?! I want to give her the most perfect day possible. I want her to feel like– like she’s on top of the world! And if performing for her and–” I choked on my own words, stumbling in my nonsense. “H-her fucking shit husband.” I propped myself on my elbows, staring at my reflection before looking at Joe. “Then fucking fine! I don’t even give a shit about him?! I care about HER!” I shouted, slamming my fists onto the marble counter. “ITS FUCKING FINE!”

But who was I kidding?

I put my head down, clenching my jaw to avoid any sobs that would’ve dared to escape my lips. Joe, with careful steps, approached me, placing a hand on my back. My quickened breathing started to ease down. However, that painful ache in my chest that felt like boulders pressing down my body remained. If the weight were to suddenly manifest in front of me, with open arms I would’ve accepted its crushing embrace, accepting the sweet release of death.

Yet here I stand in the bathroom with my bandmate and friend crying over what loss I had no way of preventing.

I’ve loved (y/n) since our first gig.

We had been friends for a while before that, but I distinctly remember telling her that my first performance will be the next day, and within the same hour, she called off of work and made plans to drive all the way to Brighton to come see me. Once she made it, she brought us cold bottles of water and showed nothing but her undying support.

When we had finished the performance, she ran up to me, and with open arms I engulfed her in the biggest hug, mumbling bits of gratitude in her ear as she exchanged back with praises. I felt like the happiest man on Earth. Nothing could strip away what joy she brought me for she has seen me through scrapped lyrics and broken guitar strings. 

I planned to confess to her on stage.

It was envisioned perfectly in my head. After our performance in Paris and the stage had been cleaned out, I would ask the stage crew if I could borrow the set for another hour. I bought roses, a mini stereo for us to listen to our favorite music, and a golden necklace to profess my love to her.

And oh, how I imagined her smile.

I was so giddy that day too. My heart was dancing in my chest and my energy reflected it like a mirror. I woke up early before everyone else despite the jetlag. I had the widest smile on my face each time I would brush my hand against my pocket, and there rested the velvet box which I shall present to her later. I told my bandmates my plan over soundcheck and they all cheered me on. There was not a single doubt she would say no.

That was until during the concert.

In the midst of me performing consequences, I searched among the crowd to find that face. That gorgeous face that would never leave my dreams. Eventually… I did find her. My eyes widened as I looked over to Joe, who caught the same sight as well. My heart, once pumping a lovesick melody, came to a stop and dropped onto the floor below me. There she was, with hands wrapped around the neck of a man I’d never seen. Their faces were just centimeters apart as those lips I only daydreamed of kissing were parted just for him. It felt like the world around me stopped moving, and despite the screaming crowd in front of me, I was only listening to an ear-ringing screech and my heart beating in my ears.

Painfully, I strained out,

“I’m yours. I’m yours! I’M YOURS!”

I liberated my pain and anguish in the final verse of The Fall. Thousands of fans screamed and cheered for me, but I was only met with lonesome. I looked over to (y/n) who was now clapping and cheering as well. The man still wrapped his arms around her.

I smiled at her, and she smiled at me back.

I didn’t dare to face her after the show. As soon as I left the venue I buried myself into hotel blankets and pillows as if this grief was pinning me down by the neck, choking me into this mattress as I lost all strength to get up. The next morning Mark noted that she was looking for me, but I shook it off. 

It took me a while to even face her again. When she asked me what happened that night I lied through my teeth and told her I was sick for a long while and didn’t want her to get sick either. It took persuasion like a lawyer to convince her, but she accepted it in the end.

I took in a sharp inhale, and looked up to meet Joe’s gaze. He looked over at his watch. “We’re going to be going on in ten. Are you ready?”

I looked back at my reflection, squeezing my eyelids shut to blink away the tears. Every breath I took felt like a shudder. My voice only came out in weary croaks. But still, I stood up straight and looked back at Joe.

“Give me five minutes.”

With what sanity I had left, I freshened myself up by washing my face and pressing down my suit and tie. After some soft encouragements to myself and convincing myself that I look fine, I pushed open the door and was again met with the dim-lit reception littered in white floral decor. People were happily dancing under the shimmering disco ball. Friends and family were laughing with one another at different white rounded tables topped with bouquets. Chefs were working promptly as they dished out all sorts of fresh foods for the ravenous guests.

But what stood out the most was the bride and groom, (y/n) and Jared, sitting at a long white table by themselves. They smiled at each other lovingly, holding each other’s hands on the table with their new golden bands wrapped around their finger. I bit the insides of my cheek, having to rip my gaze off of the couple, and headed toward the small stage where we were placed. Mark and Ash exchanged worried glances at the sight of me.

“Will, are you—”

“I’m fine.” I quickly muttered to Mark. I looked over to Joe. He checked his watch before nodding toward me. Ignoring the worried exchange of glances from my bandmates, I tapped on the microphone, grabbing the reception’s attention. The DJ ushered down his music.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, we are Lovejoy.” I spoke in a low voice but forced a smile as I talked. “I’d like to, uh– congratulate the bride and groom over there. Hi guys.” I slightly waved to them as the guests cheered. (Y/n) grinned at me, and I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach. I looked down at my mic, determined to keep my focus.

“I’d like to especially thank (y/n). She’s been with me since we started this band, and I– I couldn’t be more thankful.” I looked back at her again, and there she was. Her stunning white gown was decorated with rhinestones. Her hair was styled beautifully, flowing gingerly with the soft AC cooling the venue. Her lips were colored subtly with a shade that matched her gentle skin.

What was missing was a pretty heart-shaped necklace that was supposed to be given to her after a performance in Paris.

I cleared my throat. “We’re Lovejoy, and this is Call Me What You like.”

I spent the next twenty minutes with the band as we performed various songs from our different EPs. My heart slightly ached with each song I shouted into the mic, knowing that most of these songs' meanings have changed over time. A breakup album dedicated to the United Kingdom? More like intense jealousy of wishing to get in between my friend’s healthy relationship because I’ve longed for her more than anything. 

We were nearing the end of our performance, with our last song “It’s all futile, it’s all pointless.” A song that she loved even before the band began. A song that she would ask for me to play when she used to visit my apartment. A song she asked me to teach her as she sat between my legs with her back pressed against my chest and I would guide her hands and fingers from behind. I closed my eyes and talked through the lyrics. The noise soon started to drown out. No longer there was an audience in front of me with guitars and drums to accompany my vocals.

I was back at my old flat, and there (y/n) sat on my couch as I sat on the floor. I was smiling up at her with fingers pressed against steel strings with my thumb rhythmically strumming down.

“We’re getting to your favorite part.” I noted. She giggled, kicking her legs.

“I know!” She beamed.

“Ready?” I asked, scooting closer to her. She nodded. With voices harmonizing we sang the final run of the song. I couldn’t help but stare at her. How she closed her eyes while she sang. How she fiddled with a pillow in her lap with a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Her eyebrows slightly furrowed, concentrating on getting the lyrics perfectly.

My only wish in this world is to drink in that look once again. To have a moment like that again.

I felt the tears pricking at my eyes as the memory fades out. The music and crowd crashed into my senses, and soon enough, I was back at this dreaded venue. With what passionate rage I had left, I belted out the final words. Her favorite part.

“Eat my rent!”

”and eat my food!” Her faded voice echoed back.

“And eat my dues–! 

“and eat those kids!” I screamed out the last words, straining what little voice I had left, letting the tears roll down my cheeks and onto my blazer. The band riffed into intensity as I felt the inside of my pocket again, the box still there. The guitars, the bass, the trumpet, and the drums, all halting to an end–

I looked up and smiled at her.

“And maybe use a sextant.”

♡♡♡

a / n ~ angsty hehe. this is my fav fic so far. reblogs are appreciated :D!!

[requiem4adrm]

Hey! I'm not sure of your rules, so pls disregard this if it goes against what you write, but could you write both Leon and Luis (separately) comforting a reader who used to self harm? Again, I completely understand if you're against writing that. Have a lovely day!

I hope your day was lovely as well! Thank you for this request, and I hope it meets your expectations!

WARNING: This post involves mentions of self-harm and suicidal thoughts so if you are sensitive to this DO NOT READ!

Leon Kennedy + Luis Serra x f! reader (past self-harm)

Leon:

You had been going out with Leon for a couple months now. He was basically the man of your dreams. Although you had spent such a long time together, you had never wanted to have sex or even show a lot of skin to him. He didn't mind this, he knew that when you were ready you would share these things with them, and never pressured you into anything.

Eventually, you finally caved and decided to try and be comfortable around him. You had invited him over and had decided to wear a short sleeve shirt and some pj shorts. You were feeling confident and courageous for deciding to trust him with this.

This was until you caught a glimpse in the mirror and saw all the faded scars that littered your skin. Your cheeks turned red and tears welled up in your eyes from the shame and embarrassment you felt.

"How could anyone love someone as messed up as this?" You thought to yourself.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you just stared at the broken skin, so distracted that you didn't hear Leon announce his presence.

He found you standing in front of the mirror crying, his eyes softening at the sight of your skin and the tears rolling down your face.

"Baby? What's wrong?", he said as he walked over to you.

"Go away Leon, you shouldn't see me like this." You sobbed to him.

"I'm not going anywhere, pretty girl, until I know what's got you so upset."

You turned to him and looked him in the eyes. His face was full of worry and concern, which only made you feel worse.

"This was supposed to be a good thing for me, Leon. I wanted to try and be more comfortable around you because even though you've told me not to rush anything, I wanted to prove to myself that I could stop covering up around you," You paused to catch your breath.

"But as soon as I saw myself it was like all the horrible thoughts came back to me. I was so close Leon. I feel so ugly, and ashamed, and-and I don't know what to do anymore." You wiped at your eyes to stop the tears but they just kept pouring the more you talked.

Leon was quiet as you spoke. Sadness casting over him at the sight of you sobbing your heart out.

"Can I hold you, pretty girl?" He asked gently. You shook your head yes and scrambled into his arms, where he wrapped you tight and rocked you back and forth.

"I want you to listen to me, baby, ok?" You nodded your head into his chest in reply.

"I want you to know how proud I am of you for trying for me. You are the bravest, most beautiful person I have ever met. I want you to know that I love every single piece of you, including the broken ones, and that my love will never change." You sniffled softly into his chest.

He gently grabbed your wrist and brought it to his face, giving each scar a feather-light kiss.

"I want you to know that your scars don't define you, that they just prove that you survived the darkest time in your life. Look at me, baby." You brought your eyes to his face.

He let go of you and began lifting up his shirt, showing you his torso littered with scars from countless missions and near-death encounters.

"Our scars tell a story. Different stories, but they both have the same ending; we won and survived. They show that we are strong and brave. I hope you believe me, and if you still aren't ready I'm not going to push you to do this for me. I love you either way." With that, he left a soft kiss on your forehead and wrapped his arms around you again.

You just couldn't understand how you found the most kind-hearted, beautiful soul to ever exist, and how he chose to give you his love.

"I love you so much, Leon." You whispered to him, feeling his arms go tighter around you in response. You both spent the rest of the night holding each other, finally at peace and basking in each other's love.

Luis:

You had been home with Luis when you decided to take a shower. He was taking a nap on the couch so you figured it would be the perfect time to wash up. You washed quickly, not wanting to wake him. 10 minutes later, you were stepping out and wrapping yourself in a towel. You made your way to his bedroom and began to dry off. You had just finished putting on your bra when the bedroom door swung upon.

You froze at the sound, eyes locked onto the doorway where Luis stood, mouth agape and eyes wide.

"I-I'm so sorry I didn't know you were in here!" He stuttered out.

Your heart began to race, your mind going a million miles an hour. You had wanted to show him your scars on your own terms, but now your secret was out forever. Your eyes watered slightly as you began to sniffle.

Luis noticed the change immediately and went from embarrassed to concerned in a second.

"Cariña, please don't cry. Come here." He grabbed the throw blanket from off the bed and wrapped you in it to help cover you up. You sank into his warm arms almost instantaneously; your anxiety lessening in his embrace.

"I've known the whole time, mi amor." He spoke softly.

"W-what? How-"

"When you sleep you tend to remove your clothes if you're too hot..."

You two sat in silence when all of a sudden you began to giggle. Luis followed suit and began to chuckle until the both of you were laughing.

"I can't believe this... I thought you never knew, and I was waiting to show you." You looked into his eyes as he smiled and brushed your hair behind your ear.

"I didn't want to tell you I found out, because I knew you would come to me when you were ready."

Your eyes watered again at what he told you. You couldn't possibly understand how there was anyone as kind and beautiful as Luis.

"I wanted to show you so bad, but I was so afraid you'd be disgusted with me." Luis's arms wrapped tighter around you at the thought of you being afraid to show him your deepest secret.

"I could never be disgusted with you, mi amor. To me, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. How could I ever be disgusted with the one thing I love most in this world?" He placed his palm on your cheek, his thumb rubbing gently on your face.

Tears slowly made their way down your face; you were so overjoyed, and feeling so loved by him that you didn't know what to do.

"I love you so much, Luis Serra. I don't think I'll ever feel as much love for another person as I do for you."

With that, he smiled and laid his forehead against yours, the both of you closing your eyes and just enjoying the moment. That night was the night you knew Luis Serra would be your husband for the rest of your life.

---

Hey yall! Hope you enjoyed this. I kinda took two different approaches to it and I wish I could've done better but I kinda ran out of steam when writing about Luis lol. I felt like I just rushed it a bit but oh well. Anyways, you guys have an amazing night/day whateva, and if u have a request plz submit it. I love seeing requests :3

[stevenose]

this must be the place

steve x reader

contains: gender unspecified reader; mainly fluff, some kissin’!; friends to lovers; idiots in love; self doubt/body image issues; two dumbasses realizing they’re obsessed with each other; sfw!

authors note: this is a gift to @unbetaedimagines for donating to my kofi! if you donate i am happy to write you a drabble for our angel baby steve as a thank you - link in bio :) thank you for all of your support, jasmine!

“I’m so over it.”

“Over what?”

Steve’s throwing Nerd Clusters up into the air and catching them in his mouth, laying down on the cushions of your couch. You lay on the loveseat beside him, curled in on yourself, a movie playing on the television.

“Being like this.”

He misses his Nerd Cluster and turns to face you, propped up on his elbow. “Being like what?”

“Just me.”

Steve figures this is sparked by the movie. A romance, one he absolutely should not have brought from work. Not when he’s laying adjacent to you and yearning to touch you, feel you, hold you. Physically five feet apart, metaphorically a universe away. He throws a cluster at you now, frowning when you don’t even glare at him.

“Hey,” he says, sliding off the couch and crawling to sit in front of you. “What do you think’s wrong with you, huh?”

You close your eyes. Something as gorgeous as Steve shouldn’t be so close to you. His chocolate irises melting into yours. So soft and sweet. “Where do I start?”

He pouts. “There’s nothing wrong with you. What makes you think that?”

“Nothing in particular. I just - ugh. You don’t need to know. I’m being dramatic because it’s fun.”

“I want to know.” He rubs a circle onto your wrist. “What’s the problem?”

You sigh. “I just haven’t even been able to look at myself in the mirror lately. I have - I have to shower with the lights off because even a glimpse at my reflection… it makes me sick. And then -“ and you laugh a little, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve got someone as pretty as you sitting in my living room, choosing to spend time with me, and I guess I just don’t get it. How I’m lucky in that regard and no where else.”

Steve doesn’t answer quickly, which worries you. You peek an eye open and he looks hurt. You panic, sitting up. “No, Steve, you aren’t doing anything wrong, I just -“

“How could you think that?”

“Think what?”

“That you’re not beautiful?”

You squint at him now, a little suspicious. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “I don’t get it either. I don’t understand how not-pretty you feel. You’re the prettiest person anywhere we go. People stop to stare at you-“

You scoff. “You can comfort me without lying to me.”

“What are you talking about? It’s true - just because you don’t notice it doesn’t mean I don’t.”

You scoff again. “Why would you notice?”

His lips pull into a line. You stare at each other. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say.

“Because I don’t like them looking at you.”

“Well I don’t, either -“

“No! No, not like - just, give me a second, okay?”

You furrow your brows and shake tour head. “Steve, what the -“

His lips are on yours. You hardly process it before you pull back, shoving at his chest, making him topple over onto his ass. “Okay, asshole,” you grit. “Not fucking funny.”

“What?!” he asks, pulling himself back up. “I’m not trying to be funny, I’m - I’m trying to show you because I’m ass-backwards at words-“

“Show me what?”

“That I like you! That you’re beautiful! That - that hanging out with you is one of the only times I feel comfortable, ever. That hearing you laugh is what I chase every day of my life. That -“

“Huh?” you interrupt, shocked. “You’ve never shown any interest.”

He laughs humorlessly. “Again. Just because you don’t notice doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. You’ve been so caught up in how you feel that you haven’t been able to understand no one else feels the same about you. I don’t feel the same.”

You stare at him, trying to comprehend. “Steve, people like you don’t like me.”

He gets up on his knees, getting close to you again, cautiously like you might bite. “Wanna bet?”

When his lips are on yours again, you let yourself feel it. You try to swallow all of the doubt, the urge to run, and just feel his lips. He’s moving slow and gentle and tender. A warm palm cradling your cheek. You lean into it, letting yourself be overtaken by it, the warmth and comfort. If he didn’t like you - if this was a bad joke - he wouldn’t be kissing you like this. Or looking at you like how he was. Or wasting his time. And Steve isn’t a liar. The realization of it catches you all at once and you gasp a little bit, letting Steve slip his tongue between your lips for just a moment. It’s dizzying, you want to chase it -

You’re suddenly falling off of the couch, crashing into his lap. He grunts as he falls back, catching you, both of you caught off guard.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice laced with worry.

You start laughing, because he’s so sweet, even though you’ve totally embarrassed yourself and he’s still holding you like you’re a precious gemstone. He follows you, giggling, eyes all scrunched up and handsome smile showing teeth.

“Do you mean it?” you breathe.

“Of course I mean it,” he promises softly. He leans forward again, eyes flicking down to your lips. “I can keep showin’ you, if you want.”

With his mouth back on yours, you feel at home.

[laylasmoonchild]

Heavenly

Summary: This was a request 💘 Reader is getting ready for bed & Sam gets her all hot and bothered, simple as that, daddy kink, breeding kink, OOF, enjoy, ya filthy sluts!

WARNINGS: 18+ Smut, Oral (F & M Receiving), Sex, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex, Daddy/Little Kink, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Mutual Masturbation.

——————————————————————————

I sat at my vanity, in a black silk nightgown, cream colored lace detailing, lining the edges. Slowly removing each velcro roller, one by one. I was too focused on the outcome of each curl to recognize anything else, maybe just the faint record playing, but really nothing more but each tendril falling at my shoulders once released. 

I saw a shadow in my peripheral, I looked up from my hands in the mirror and up behind me. Sam was looking back at me, leaning in the threshold of the doorway. A smile creeped onto his lips as my hand froze on the last roller.

“Oh don’t mind me.” He let out a breathy laugh, entering the room more, still watching me.

I smiled and continued, looking back at myself while I removed it, letting my hair free. I combed my fingers through the curls, looking up once more to see Sammy in his black t-shirt and pajama pants, still looking gorgeous in his bed-wear. He came closer, standing behind me. I looked up at him, doe - eyed through my lashes. He leant down, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck, earning a squeal from me. 

“Sammy,” I protested, he stopped for a minute, moving all of my hair to the opposite side, to give himself more access.

“You know I love to watch you while you get dolled up for nothing.” He said softly.

“Not nothing,” I turned around on the bench, facing him as he lowered to his knees, looking up at me with his pitch black eyes.

“You do your hair before bed, that’s for nothing, doll.” He smirked.

“I do it so I won’t have to do it in the morning, okay?” I playfully rolled my eyes, turning around once more to grab my bottle of lotion, his favorite scent on me.

He stood up as I pumped some of the lotion into my hand. Reaching over me for the bottle. I started rubbing the lotion into my arms, seeing him rub lotion between his hands. I turned to him, sitting with my legs at the end of the stool, Sam once more dropped down to his knees. 

“May I?” He motioned his hands to my legs, I nodded. He began slowly rubbing the lotion into my calves. Sammy loved to give me massages anytime he had the chance, he said it soothes his hands from playing instruments… Not sure how, but I love his hands on me so I won’t question it.

After he finished the right calf, he got some more lotion, watching his hands as he warmed it up, I felt that familiar feeling between my legs form. He began running his hands along the sides of my thighs, I reclined a bit, holding myself up with my hands that planted behind me on the stool. He brought both hands to my left thigh, slowly massaging it. I let out a slight sigh. 

Sam looked at me with a lazy smirk. “What? You like that?” He licked his bottom lip, tugging it with his top teeth.

“Yeah, thank you baby.” I smiled at him, my eyelids getting heavy with lust.

He smiled, continuing his motions, slowly getting closer to my core then back down. He began the same movements on my right thigh. I noticed him trying to catch a glimpse in between my thighs and up my night gown. As Sammy crept his long fingers up my thighs, I instinctively spread my legs open, letting my head hang back and letting out a louder sigh than the last one. His hands applying more pressure, I felt air hit my hot core.

I threw my head up, flushed cheeks and a little embarrassed at how pornographic I must look from his point of view, a little too exposed. 

“Oh no, cmon, baby. Don’t act innocent now.” His mouth hung open as he looked up at me then between my thighs. I let out a small laugh and reached out for his face, tracing his lower lip with my thumb.

“You look heavenly down there,” I said softly. 

He smiled, spreading my legs more. Having a full display of my still clothed pussy.

“And you look so beautiful, spread open like this, just for me.” He kissed my thumb, sending a thousand electric bolts through me.

He pulled me by my hips, bringing my ass right to the end of the stool. My nightgown slid up to the tops of my hips from this, legs still spread. He pulled my panties down my legs and tossed them across the room. I lifted my legs to drape them over his shoulders.

His head dipped between my legs. His mouth attaching itself to my clit. 

“Oh, fuck.”

I felt him smile while sucking on my clit, he loved praise. He began pumping his fingers in and out of me, then keeping a steady come hither motion. I threw my head back, mouth hung open letting guttural noises escape it. My right hand combed through his hair, and began tugging it lightly. My legs would tighten around his head every now and then when the pleasure felt too intense.

My nipples hardened through the lace, aching for attention. The strap of my nightgown fell down my shoulder, I took the opportunity to slip my fingers between my lips to collect some saliva, bringing them down to my left breast, pulling down the night gown to expose it. I started playing with my nipple, adding to my arousal.

Sam pulled away from my pussy to see what I was doing above him. He let out a groan watching me touch myself.

“Baby, you taste like fucking heaven… Your pussy is so tight around my fingers, you know that?” His voice was raspy and soft. I pinched my nipple and twirled it between my fingers, biting my bottom lip to muffled the squeal that would escape it while I nodded.

I felt my orgasm approaching as he went back to sucking my clit while flicking his tongue.

His fingers sped up while I felt another moan bubble in my throat.

“Sammy, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, I’m cu- FUCK” My legs clamped around his head again, my walls contracted around his still moving fingers.

He hummed, sending more vibrations through me. As I came down, my legs released him and he pulled his fingers out. His mouth detached from me.

I reached out for him, needing to taste his lips.

He stood up and kissed me passionately, letting his tongue slip into my mouth and run his hands up the sides of my body, pulling me up into him. I wrapped my legs around him while we still kissed and his hands held my ass and he walked me to the bed.

The record that was on stopped while the sounds of our kissing filled the air.

He threw me onto the bed, looking down at me while taking off his shirt.

“Look at my girl…” He lowered his pants along with his boxers. Slowly pumping his hardened cock while I spread my legs wide for him. I smiled, bringing my hand between my legs, collecting some of my cum and spreading it to my clit, rubbing it lightly.

“What about her?” I moaned

“S-such a good girl for me.” His hand tightened around his cock.

I nodded, bringing a finger into my mouth, sucking on it and staring into his eyes. He groaned

“You want daddy to fuck that little mouth before he fucks that pretty pussy?” 

I sucked on my finger harder, rubbing my clit faster and nodded my head at the same speed.

“Get on your hands and knees, baby. I won’t forget about you, c’mere” He continued pumping himself while I stopped what I was doing and crawled to him.

I looked up at him, mouth wide and tongue out. He thrusted into my mouth, a little too deep at first, making me gag.

“Sorry, baby, I’ll take it easy, yeah?” He slowly thrusted just the tip, wiping the tear that formed. My hand jerked him while I arched my back. My other hand, holding his balls, making him moan. Sam put his hand on my ass, squeezing it and giving it a hard smack. I groaned around his tip, tongue drooling.

“My girl loves that, huh? You love when I spank you?” 

I nodded while I moaned in response.

He spanked me harder, still thrusting while I worked him.

I felt his cock twitch and my pussy pulse. I needed him to cum inside of me.

I let off of him and looked up at his face, that was pure sex.

“I’m close, baby, you want me to cum inside of you?”

“Yes, Sam, I need you.”

“Turn around for me?” He asked.

Sammy knows I’m a sucker for missionary, even when our sex is filthy, I love the sweetness of it, I look up at him with a pout.

“Don’t wanna mess up your pretty hair” He gave me a wink, earning the same eye roll I gave him earlier.

I stood up, still on my knees and wrapped my arms around his neck, looking into his dark eyes. I kissed him lightly.

“How thoughtful my daddy is.” I snickered, leaning in for another kiss while his hands went up my body, lifting my nightgown over my head, leaving me naked like him. He squeezed my breasts, lightly rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. I moaned into his mouth.

“Only for you, little girl” He smiled, tapping my ass to signal me to turn around.

I did as he wanted, arching my back, fully raising my ass and laying my face sideways onto the bed.

“Was that little stalling act to make sure you had more time with me fucking you? Because your pussy’s too tight for me not to get back to where I just was, baby” He laughed, holding onto my hips with one hand and lining himself up with my dripping entrance.

I laughed a little, shaking my ass lightly, so he’d smack it, which he did. 

Sam thrusted deep into me, making both of us call out for each other. I spread my legs more, making sure he had full access.

I started playing with my clit, rubbing it fast to catch myself up with him. He fastened his pace and reached out for my hair, putting it into a makeshift pony.

He pulled me by my hair, raising me. 

“M-might mess your hair up a bit, a-actually.” He sarcastically laughed with me while fighting back moans.

He continued fucking me, and I felt his cock twitch once more. 

I continued rubbing my clit, moaning out for him.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I love you, I love you, baby” His voice soft and raspy, still fucking me like a slut.

“Do it, Sammy, cum in my pussy, I wanna feel you. I love you so much, give me your babies, cum for me, please!” I cried out, so desperate for him.

“I’m gonna give you them, baby, oh fuck, fuck, oh-“ He came deep inside, slapping his hips against my ass as hard as he can, sure to leave bruises for both of us. I felt him leak out of me as he pulled out.

I flipped over onto my back, Sam joined me onto the bed, over me on his knees and out of breath. 

“Sammy I need to cum again, please” I practically slurred, needing my second orgasm.

“I didn’t forget, mama, open your legs”

I did as he instructed, he brought some of his cum that leaked out of me to my clit, rubbing it with his thumb and fucking my pussy with his fingers.

“Oh, Sammy, FUCK” I threw my head back.

“Love when I fuck my cum back into you?” He kissed my neck and sucked my ear.

“Fuck, yes. YES, YES, YES, oh my god, I love your cum, f-feels s-so good.” I was a moaning mess, the pleasure was so intense.

I felt my second orgasm take over my body as it convulsed under him.

As I came down from it all, Sam collapsed onto me. Kissing me passionately and lazily. He brought his fingers upto my mouth, letting me suck them clean. I moaned in ecstasy.

“We taste good, huh?” He smiled, looking down at me while he slowly took his fingers out of my mouth.

“Heavenly.” I batted my lashes at him, smiling weakly and trying to catch my breath.

He smiled again, kissing my lips.

“Heavenly.”

[burnthoneydrops]

The Sun and the Moon I (e.b. x original character)

Synopsis: The presentation of two young girls into polite society should be a joyus occasion. Unfortunately, it is not for all.

Requested: No?

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2906

A/N: Here it is! The start of my Eloise series! I hope y'all enjoy and remember, feedback is always appreciated!

The morning sun is catching in the window at just the wrong angle, as I shield my eyes from its burning rays. I hear the stairs creak underneath the floorboards of my room, and I know that my hope of sneaking past my aunt is long gone. She is already awake, therefore making it impossible for me to do anything without her catching me first. Though I should have figured that my aunt would be similar in nature to my mama when it came to watching me, I thought that perhaps this fresh start would have meant some more freedom. Sadly, I was incredibly mistaken. There is a knock at my door and my dreams of hiding under the covers all day are quickly crushed. 

“Miss? Lady Moore is requesting your presence in the dining room,” one of the maids, I believe her name is Natalie, informs me. 

I groan, not hiding the fact that I dread getting up from this very position. When that does not seem a sufficient enough answer for Natalie, I call back that I will be down in a second and I can hear her footsteps pittering down the hall. More importantly, away from my door. I do not bother changing, as I have learned that anything I brought in my suitcase is insufficient for my aunt. Though I should be more accustomed to waking up in the earlier hours of the day, as work on my family’s land requires all hands at all times, but knowing that this work is going to be different is what seems to keep me entrapped in my bed. 

Aunt Moore is, however, just as strict when it comes to punctuality and even more so with presentation, which means if I am not up soon, I will most definitely hear about it. I finally rise from my bed, tossing the heavy blankets over to the opposite side, and set myself down on the wooden floor, the cold sensation waking me up a bit more. My descent down the stairs has my feet dragging across the rug that lays down the middle, but they are quickly picked up when one of the maids looks at me like I’ve suddenly grown a second head. My aunt is waiting for me in her favourite chair and I greet her with a small ‘hello’ so as to not startle her with her back turned. 

“Ah, good you are awake. The date for your presentation to the Queen is fast approaching and your selection of dresses is still horrid. Therefore, we will be making a trip to the modiste today,” Aunt Moore explains, her hair perfectly pinned as usual. It takes all of me not to roll my eyes in silent protest. Being poked and prodded with needles as itchy fabric is held against me is not my idea of an exciting day, but I suppose it is one of the many things I am to grow accustomed to should I continue to live here. 

“Apologies that the clothes one wears for farm work are not suitable for more elegant endeavours,” I reply. 

“And we will have none of that tongue of yours,” Aunt Moore adds, choosing to say nothing more on the subject. 

“Yes Aunt Moore,” I reply as she dismisses me with a wave of her hand. 

Natalie joins me as I walk back through the hallway, and she tells me of all the possibilities we could put together for today’s look as we make our way back up the stairs. I try telling her that none of it is necessary, but I know she does not listen to me. She has worked here long enough to know just as well as I do how set my aunt is in her ways about how we are each to look, and seeing as she had no children of her own, I am the one subjected to all her biggest dreams and desires. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I am greeted by my unruly hair and grimace a bit. Perhaps a little bit of upkeep from Natalie would not go amiss. 

I let Natalie work her magic, and try and follow along as best I can in the mirror, but how one has the patience for all of that is something I will never understand. 

The Bridgerton Residence, the same day

“Must we visit Madame Delacroix again, Mama?” Eloise whines as she drags her right foot across the carpet. 

“Indeed we must. Your premiere season cannot be spent in old fabrics, therefore we are to get you an updated wardrobe,” Lady Bridgerton explains, hurrying her second youngest daughter down the hallway.  

“But surely no one has that great a memory that they will remember every dress I have ever worn?” Eloise tries. 

“You clearly underestimate the Cowpers,” Lady Bridgerton sighs, alerting the footman that they need the carriage brought around. 

For once, Eloise decides not to rebuttal as the two of them get into the carriage. The only thing saving this horrendous adventure is that the sun is shining, the warmth being something Eloise was grateful for. It somehow makes the ride less laborious, as before she knows it, her mother is pulling her out of the carriage and into the lobby of the modiste. Eloise is hoisted up onto the raised platform so that she may be viewed from all angles and it takes everything within her not to roll her eyes so far back that they fall into her skull. The shiny jewels and feathers were already loud enough, must she also be placed high so everyone can see her? It is something that has truly confused her every time, but there are some things you do not fight Lady Bridgerton on. Fashion is most certainly one of them. 

“I think this one will look lovely,” Lady Bridgerton remarks as Madame Delacroix holds out a periwinkle fabric with a few transparent decorations on the skirt. 

“I agree Lady Bridgerton, it will look most charming indeed,” Madame Delacroix nods in agreement, holding the fabric up to Eloise’s skin. 

“Let us carry on with it then,” Eloise replies. 

Madame Delacroix, though already having her measurements in her book, starts to take them again, claiming that season dresses must have different qualifications than regular dresses, therefore making the measurements vary slightly. Or something like that, in all truth Eloise stopped paying attention after the first few words that were emitted from Madame Delacroix’s mouth. As she stares into one of the many mirrors, there is a ringing above the front door, signalling another customer. Two pairs of shuffling feet make their way from the street outside, and as Eloise turns her head, she sees a girl with the most uncomfortable look on her face as, who Eloise guesses is her mother, grips her shoulders from behind. Eloise cannot place who these two might be, while though the mother looks slightly familiar, the daughter’s face does not bring anything to the forefront of her mind at all. 

She is pretty though, Eloise comments internally, her lighter brown hair in a half bun, some pieces falling down around her face. Her dress of choice looks rather dull in comparison to the bright coloured fabrics in the store, and it doesn’t seem to fit her properly either. The girl’s eyebrows quirk in a strange way when Madame Delacroix starts pulling gently on her dress sleeve, assessing the situation at hand. The mother gives the girl a little tap and she straightens up, pulling her feet together uncomfortably tight. Madame Delacroix tells them to wait while she finishes up with the Bridgerton family and the girl glances over, catching Eloise’s eye before her mother drags her to one of the chairs near the window. 

“Who are they Mama?” Eloise asks as her mother makes her way back to the platform from looking at more fabric colours. 

“Lady Moore and her charge,” Lady Bridgerton replies. Before Eloise can ask any more, the conversation is cut short by Madame Delacroix’s return, her muttering a short apology for the delay. 

Aideen’s Perspective 

The bright fabrics around the building are blinding in comparison to my shabby dress, and I can feel Aunt Moore’s embarrassment seeping through her pores from having to be seen with me. I catch the eye of the girl on the platform quickly as I am pulled away to the waiting chairs, and I can’t help but notice the way her eyes light up from the sun coming through the window. Though as she is turned back to the mirrors, she looks just as frustrated at the whole ordeal as I am, which provides me with some comfort that I am not the only one. The girls we passed on the street looked simply overjoyed to be dawning their newest fashion, but all I could think about was how itchy it looked on each of them. If the goal is to meet a suitable man to whom I am to wed, I do hope he is charming enough to make the pain of the presentation worth it. 

After a while, the girl and her mother are making their way to the front desk, where the modiste is running through their order, making sure everything looks correct on the piece of parchment she has scribbled on. Once they reach an agreement, the mother grabs the girl by the elbow and guides her out the door. She turns her head, her chestnut hair swishing slightly as she looks back over her shoulder and we once again make eye contact. Her light pink dress brings out the warmth in her cheeks and I can feel my own getting warm under her gaze. The moment is brief, as the modiste, who I quickly learn is called Madame Delacroix, approaches us, guiding me onto the same platform from before and pulling out some measuring tools.

The Bridgerton Residence- a few days later

“Let her come out on her own!” Violet Bridgerton tries her hardest to raise her voice above her gaggle of children.

“Is this the plan?” Daphne questions as she steps closer to the group. 

“Daphne! Thank goodness you are here,” Lady Bridgerton remarks, though it does not seem to have calmed her down much. 

“She’s requested time,” Anthony informs his younger sister. 

“We do not have time,” Daphne reminds them as she steps closer to grab the doorknob. 

“No offence, Sister, but I believe you are the last person she would like to see,” Benedict interjects, positioning himself between Daphne and the door. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Daphne questions, looking more than slightly annoyed. 

“Are we sure she is even in there?” Hyacinth butts in. 

“Of course she is,” Francesca replies. 

The siblings continue to bicker before Francesca brings the conversation to a halt, claiming to have heard something. Anthony, fed up, goes to reach for the door again, but is unsuccessful, this time because the door is being opened from the other side. Three maids, all with varying degrees of disgust on their faces, pace out of the bedroom, leaving a concerned family waiting behind. Eloise emerges slightly behind them, dragging her feet a little as she walks. She rolls her eyes as she is greeted by her family, the train of cream fabric trailing behind her. 

“If one of you utters a single word,” Eloise starts, punctuating every few words with an exasperated sigh, “let us get this over with”. She picks up her train and marches out of her room, past her family who, thankfully, are heeding her request for silence. 

The carriage feels suffocating as all four Bridgerton girls and their Mama sit facing each other. Eloise appears as though she wishes to crawl out of her skin, and Daphne decides now might be the time for some sisterly advice. 

“Just remember to remain composed. And control your emotions. Her Majesty does not take kindly to any hint of hysterics. I found a small smile works best to appear open and approachable but not too eager. Now let us see it”. 

“No,” if Eloise could emit lasers from her eyes, now would have been the perfect opportunity. 

“She’s practically melting,” Hyacinth notes from her place beside Daphne. 

“Here, allow me,” Francesca grabs the fan from Hyacinth, reaching over Daphne in the process. 

“And your curtsy dearest, tell your sister how you managed such balance,” Lady Bridgerton asks Daphne. 

“Simply locate a stationary object and keep your eyes set,” Daphne explains, though no one believes Eloise is truly listening. “You have natural gifts-”

“Do not patronise me, and give me that!” She points at Daphne before grabbing the fan from Francesca, fanning herself aggressively. 

Aideen’s Perspective 

Standing in the long line of girls in frilly white dresses and feathery head pieces almost makes me want to run out the door. I feel as though I am sweating profusely though I cannot say anything in fear that Aunt Moore will have my head. I take to fanning myself with my glove, though I am not entirely convinced it is doing me any good, and I notice a blonde girl with a rather snooty face scoffing at me as I do so. I stick my tongue out at her and feel a sharp hit on my shoulder. Aunt Moore has caught me in my antics and harshly whispers for me to stop, so I might not draw any more attraction to myself than I already have. 

“It is not too late. You can say I’ve collapsed, or have gotten something unmentionable on my gown, or that the feathers affected my sense. Anything, Mama, to get me out of doing this,” I hear a girl desperately plead with her Mama for her chance at escape. I glance over and notice the same chestnut hair from the modiste. My eyes linger on her for a second, not that she is any the wiser, but Aunt Moore pushes me forward as yet another girl is announced to see the Queen. 

“Lady Moore and Miss Aideen Watson,” the announcer calls as the doors open, and all eyes turn to me and Aunt Moore who stands slightly behind me. My chest begins to rise and fall at a faster rate, and I feel as though my head is spinning. Somehow, I manage to move my feet one in front of the other, holding my dress so I might not trip. 

“I did not know Lady Moore had a daughter,” A mother mutters to my right. 

“It is her brother’s daughter. You remember the one who moved out to Ireland, supposedly chasing the love of his life,” her friend replies as I take another step forward. 

“Oh yes. Poor man following that maid all the way across the channel. What a shame,” the initial mother comments and I use all my energy in that moment not to turn my head and glare at them. The other families are looking at me as I slowly parade myself down the aisle to the Queen, who from her place on her throne does not look too amused by my presence. 

I curtsy once I finally reach the end of the aisle, and I nearly fall as bending down has caused me to lean forward just a tad too much. Luckily, I do not end up with my face on the floor, but the Queen does not say anything and I am escorted out of the way. Aunt Moore grips my elbow as we are moved to the sidelines and while she doesn’t say anything directly, her rather tight grip tells me all the disappointment I needed to know. 

“The Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton and Miss Eloise Bridgerton,” are the next two called behind me, and I stand on my tiptoes to catch a glimpse. The girl from the modiste is standing where I was mere moments ago and looks fit to collapse right there and then. Her breathing quickens as she is now faced with the Queen and she glances quickly at who I can only assume are her family on the side. 

“What is the meaning of this?” the Queen demands as she is handed a slip of paper from a man who has just walked in the side door. People are shuffling around to try and see what is going on as a smile forms on her Majesty’s face. “I have seen enough,” she calls out, effectively dismissing the room. 

“Does this mean I can go?” the girl, or Eloise as I now know, asks as she grabs her dress. 

“I do not know what this means,” her mother replies. Eloise takes this as her cue and runs back out the main door, looking positively joyful. 

The little sheets are being passed around and as Aunt Moore grabs one, I try my hardest to look over her shoulder at what has enraptured the attention of the entire room. “Lady Whistledown” is printed on the top along with a silhouette of a woman with pinned up hair. 

“Lady Whistledown?” I ask Aunt Moore, who is visually scanning the sheet with rapid speed. 

“She has returned after all,” is all Aunt Moore chooses to say on the subject. 

Dearest gentle reader, did you miss me? 

Given the buzz in the room, this whole adventure might be turning out to be more exciting than I thought. Oh what a season this might be.

[elslovers]

the one - E. Williams

a/n hello my loves apologies for falling off I have just been in a writing slump but I decided the perfect way to pull myself out was with a series I had been wanting to write for awhile of on shots inspired by Taylor swift songs - as ur certified switftie tlou writer it is my duty this is angsty but no better way to start off than some Ellie folklore angst I hope you enjoy

" and if my wishes came true it would've been you"

Your hand clutches the stem of your wine glass, makeup-caked eyes, and a weaker spirit than you possessed less than twenty-four hours ago. Chaos is so intense it's almost peaceful, like when something moves so fast the human eye can't see it. That's how losing Ellie has you feeling, spinning so fast you almost think you are standing still pacing, and you know your pacing, but your mind is somewhere else. You only stop when you catch a glimpse of yourself in your vanity mirror.

" I guess the greatest loves of all time all time are over now"

Your body sinks into the memory of your meeting you'd always been a romantic dreaming up the great love affairs you would have with the cute barista because she said she liked your bangs or the pretty girl who lived down the hall from you freshmen year it wasn't uncommon for you to fall fast and hard which is what made Ellie so Wonderfully different you weren't free falling into fantasy you were content in reality with her from the moment you met you were her waitress and she and her friends who would soon become chosen family had been hogging a table all night at the shitty little diner you worked at ordering nothing but hot cocoa and fries for the table you usually would mind but from the moment you saw her you started saying a prayer that shed be there till close she would smile at you every time you brought fresh cocoa for the table finding a new aspect of you to compliment shyly each time, you saw the eyes her friends made giving her a look of stop fuckin around and make a move and when she saw you dip into the bathroom she made her move.

you remembered it all feverishly a little hazy in some parts but some moments so sharp with hurt you were washing your hands when you saw her walk in from the mirror a smile turning up on your lips - was she here for you? You recall thinking these moments were fuzzy, her mind racing too much to remember the small talk you made, but when her lips crashed onto you with hunger, you made sure to remember everything the way her calloused hands held your cheeks, the way she didn't hesitate the way she backed you against the wall and after what felt like only a second pulled back and gave you a smile that seemed to say she already knew she had you and then kissed you again just as starved as the first Ellie has a talent for kissing you every damn time as she might never kiss you again

from that moment on it was just you and Ellie

until it wasn't

"and if you wanted me you really should've showed"

The problem with loving someone like Ellie is the love being loved more than their lover, or at least that is what you had gathered after six months of loving and losing at the same time she has a wandering eye, always had, always will, but she was yours. That's what you assured yourself of when she started hiding her phone more. She was yours. It's what you told yourself when she stopped asking you to accompany her to the house parties she sold at. She was yours, but Ellie belonged to everyone and no one all at once. She was never really anyone. Her friends would say how impressed they were. She'd made it so long that she was never good at monogamy, and you would always say she was good with you.

because god was she good with you

good until she wasn't until she was good with the girl she promised was just a client turned smoke buddy you prided yourself on being cool unattached the type of girlfriend Ellie wanted the kind who didn't panic (or at least didnt let her see) you kept yourself so cool the girl she told you not to worry about found her way into the bed you shared found her way inside the girl you thought would make you never be shared again

good until it wasn't

The screaming her begging you not to leave you, throwing her shit into the hallway of your apartment, demanding she get the fuck out. The girl who Ellie could still taste on her lips, running for the hills as fast as she could, was all still fresh in your mind, an open wound bleeding out memories you try and drink away. 'How could you be meant to sound solid and angry like a proper woman scorned would sound? You try to sound like the hell these women are supposed to give, but it comes out weak and broken, followed by a sob and trembling lip as you try to preserve whatever dignity you have left - how could you be so blind? "Baby- she's nothing. I swear she's nothing." ellies pleading, but it is disregarded because, at that moment, you feel like the one who's nothing "Honestly, Ellie, if that's how you treat girls who mean nothing, then what the fuck am I- six months, and then you meet some girl and take her home." you sun onto the bed sobbing for her to leave until she shut the door of your once-shared home for the last time

"but if you never bleed your never gonna grow"

you spend the next three weeks bleeding day drunk in your bed cycling the five stages of grief one after another day in day out it hurt in a way you'd never felt pain before the betrayal the worst of it all it hurt more then losing her

but you let yourself feel it all because somewhere a part of you knows if you don't feel it now you'll be feeling it for the rest of your life

" I'm doing good i'm on some new shit"

Two months feel like a lifetime, like you've been walking around watching your whole life on a film screen with a projector that never entirely comes into focus - but after two months of grief, you want to bloom again. You want to be the version of yourself you were before Ellie broke your heart and took your light with you. The pains are still there, but it coexists alongside a fury to not let her win

so step one is to do your hair how you used to big rollers, pulling them out into perfect curls. Step two is to do your makeup in a way that makes you glow light and airy as the sun gave you her blessing to outshine her, and three, go to a party knowing there is a 50/50 chance she'll be in attendance and not caring either way

the music is loud in your chest, the bass a welcome replacement to the pounding go your heart. You always made it a rule never to go out alone, but getting over Ellie seems to require breaking some rules 

you take one shot after another, stopping when you reach the happy place of drunkenness of not being too sure you are standing on solid ground 

you dance alone, and you dance against people. You dance with people until you've settled your eyes on a girl who could make you forget who made you like this in the first place

she's pulling someone by the sleeve of their flannel, and after a moment, Ellies figure steps Into the red and blue led lights of the dance floor

god, Williams, you always did have good taste

the familiar feeling of emotions flowing out of you serves as a reminder that no amount of bleeding will heal this wound

not yet, at least

your frozen mind is willing your body to move before she has the privilege of seeing you of being in the same space as you, a privilege you swore to both her and yourself she would never have again - but you rooted to the floor, and in an instant, her eyes are on you filling with an emotion you can't place

before you know it, her strides are strong coating across the dance floor, leaving the girl who two minutes ago you were plotting to take home in the dust

she's by your side in an instant, and you want to run - you need to run, but you can't bring yourself to feel the spark you just got back draining faster than you can stop 

"Angel," her voice is loud but gentle over the music, and her words make your stomach churn Ellie and alcohol have always been a sour mix

"you don't get to call me that anymore" There's no gentleness in your words, no harshness, neither its matter of fact, which somehow hurts Ellie more than if you were to scream at her

"I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, but it's months, and your all that's on my mind. I see it; okay, you're the one. I got caught up, and I lost sight of that," her voice is begging, a sound you used to adore but now just makes you want to vomit

you were the one

but she wasn't

"your right- I was. I was the one, Ellie, and we- use, this fuckin love was something, and if I got everything I wanted, it would've been you. It would've been sweet if you could've seen it was me all along, but you couldn't, and now I'm the one that got away, not the one you get to have"

whatever force that had been holding you there let go allowing you to walk out of that party prepared to finish the bleeding and move on to the growing.

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

A Study of Tattoos

@house-of-mirrors here's my fic for you for the @fallenlondonficswap! I hope you enjoy!

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,290

Summary: An academic has an encounter with a spy, and can never go back.

Contains: The great game, Judgements, tomb-colonists, the khanate, permadeath, and brief mentions of zailors and implied intimacy.

Ao3 Link

It has been weeks since I saw her.I was not supposed to open that door. She had been redressing, pulling her blouse back on when I noticed them. Dozens of tattoos covered every available inch of skin, some overlapping even, like the sketching book of a Bohemian who could not yet afford a fresh one. My mind has since become that sketchbook. They fascinate me. I look for tattoos everywhere I go now, hoping to catch a glimpse of more. Sometimes I do.

I have found out more. She was a surface runner. A spy. Staying in the Neath for as minimal time as possible so as to not die, and lose her usefulness. My accidental involvement with her has set off a chain reaction which I do not understand. A chain reaction which I must understand. Ripples have consequences. 

My final term is nearing an end. My professor, a demanding man who always oversees every minute detail, is demanding a long-form research project. I will choose the coding of tattoos to demonstrate my academic expertise.

***

I have made an error. Examples of spy tattoos are hard to find in full for one simple reason: It is vital that they be decoded only by the intended recipient. Even after one is put onto the body and then delivered, it may still be decoded by others to find out a plan. I had to figure out a method that would enable me to find these tattoos.

I bumbled around Wilmot’s End for near to a week. I would pin any spy I could recognize as such with conversation, like an amateur entomologist clumsily practicing on an abundant species. I realize, only now in the aftermath, the flaws in my method. At the time however, I was stumbling through, unseeing, blunt and broad in my brushstrokes.

I did not realize what would be the consequences of my actions. The game I was playing was not long enough. One of the spies began to spread such a storm of scandal that my own professor booked me a ticket to the Tomb-Colonies! As such, I leave today.

***

I have been here a week now, and made friends with a very old Colonist. They are dead now. I watched them crack open, like a cocoon made not of silk, but rather of dusty bandages. Before they died, however, I was permitted to see beneath those bandages. I had been explaining my thesis, and how my attempts at finding samples was what brought me here, when they told me they had something that might help. Indeed they did.

As part of my research, I had studied tattoos extensively. In addition to the time I spent in Wilmot’s End, I had also spent an entire week staking out Clathermont’s parlor, watching those who came and went. When the Colonist unraveled their wraps to show the aged parchment of their skin, I saw tattoos and symbology I had never come across before. I took very detailed drawings, noting everything from direction to color to location.

***

I am back at the University. The Colonies gave me the time and space to think. I took some gifted rags back with me. I wrap myself in them now, and keep a scytale of my notes. Depending on where I choose to wrap them, I can disguise many messages.

***

I have gone through the entire libraries of both Benthic and Summerset. They contain hardly anything about spycraft, and even less about what it looked like before the Fall of London. This place is hindering my research more than helping it. I will go back to the Tomb-Colonies, this time of my own volition. I tire of things happening without my understanding of how or why. I will learn, and I will grow.

One of my classmates is a pawn. He is clearly a spy, but he never operates of his own free will. Is there a way to, in this game? If so, I will find it. If not, I will become it.

***

Once more I am here among dust and moths. A Tomb-Colonist who reminded me of my Aunt spoke with me. I ended up asking her about older tattoo works. She pointed me across the Zee.

“There, in the Khanate. My granddaughter traveled there once. Its people are descendants of those who escaped that last fallen city.” She gave me some of her wrappings, to fill the gaps in my own. I thanked her.

I will spend the remainder of my time here, constructing a false identity with which I may enter the city.

***

I wonder. Was I pointed to the Khanate by chance? Am I still part of someone else’s schemes? Perhaps, like a puppet that resents the one who claims to be her master, I will take up a blade, sharp and precise, and slice off both blindfold and bindings in one neat cut.

***

My disguise is complete now. The Kindly Colonist had parting words for me.

“They will use every last part of you. Death, true death, will not be the end. They will use your memory to haunt and persuade others. They will use your tombstone as a dead drop. They will use your dying breath to pull in another. You cannot love or be loved. Travel safe, and if you do try to escape… Do not do it partway. You cannot have a foot in each world.”

She gave me a small cloth bag. There is a scrap of irrigo fabric inside, which causes a fog in my mind.

***

I have found a captain willing to zail my false identity East. I study the crew’s backs and shoulders, looking for ink.

***

My disguise has held so far. It is a good thing I have learned not to be reckless. My second day in port I saw a junior pawn removed by the White and Golds. I have a growing distaste for them. I played shatar for much of the day. Unlike London, tattoos are kept much more secret here.

***

I intercepted a message today. I danced with a charming woman all night long, and used our intimacy to make a study of her tattoos. The shapes themselves are smaller here, but still just as detailed. They know how to prolong usefulness. The symbols are different as well, though I see similarities reflected in the tattoos of the zailors who brought me here.

***

Last night I dreamt of a chessboard. I was clothed in ruby armor. A man in ivory approached me.

Once within arm’s reach, the world around me transformed into a glittering castle. I could see checkered fighting out of the windows.

Someone guarded him off to the side. He talked carefully and with precision, and explained many things. How he was interested in my development, how I moved across the board quickly for a mere pawn. How he had arranged all of this. His eyes were blue like snow as he dropped carelessly back onto his self-proclaimed throne.

His right hand twisted, and marionette strings tightened against my limbs. I grew furious. I did not want to be controlled. He was not allowed to manipulate my life.

He spoke of bleaching my ruby vestments, and his eyes gleamed. They glowed such a bright light, in fact, that it burned to look upon his shining throne.

My fury kept me grounded. I wanted nothing more than to snuff out that bright white light. I snapped my strings, and all at once, his castle folded and faded, like crumpled notes.

A man who reminded me of someone I once knew rushed up to me. His armor was deep ebony. I looked at my tattooed limbs, and saw that so was mine.

I woke up.

[blackbloodteeth]

121 Soul ideas (Pt. 1)

For fun and because I love ramblin' around, I've decided to share all the newer prompts I had stored for the March of Madness event that I hadn't really brought up anywhere. Since they don't need to be left open for interpretation anymore, I've even added some more info to some of them. Honestly might return to some of the ideas myself some day, but if anyone gets inspired by anything feel free to do whatever haha

Since this list is pretty long, I've gone and split this up into two parts, which you can find the second half here.

———

Soul and Maka are rivaling hitmen constantly at each other's throats, however they are so evenly matched that neither can manage to outplay the other. One day, one of them finally figures out how to defeat the other, only to start to reflect on their long-going rivalry now that there's a means to put it to an end.

2. One day Soul wakes up to find that everyone in the world has vanished. In the original idea this is inspired by, it involved a short story of wandering around to find where everyone went, eventually leading to seeing people still inside the mirror and the character (in this case Soul) realizing he's trapped on the wrong side.

3. In his desire to protect Maka, Soul ends up turning into a monster and losing conscious awareness of himself in the process. Maka can only watch on in horror at the devastating power he now has.

4. A King Kong-inspired AU where Maka gets separated from her exploration team while on a previously undiscovered island, and ends up finding a giant ape (that being Soul) who is curious about her. Soul actually lives with his brother but had been lazing around by himself, and he is quite friendly and eager to show her some of his favourite views before she has him take her back to her team.

5. Every winter Soul leaves to live in the woods, as he turns into an inhuman creature for the entire season. His conscious mind most likely "sleeps" during this period.

6. Soul returns from his long-term Death Scythe training, and finds that during the time Maka had been simultaneously training her Grigori soul, she'd also picked up archery to expand upon having different ways to use Soul in fights. Mostly had been a one-shot idea where the two are eager to see each other again and compare their strengths since they were last together.

7. Due to his hunting instincts, Soul starts to lose control of himself whenever he smells blood. I had shark inspirations in mind for this one, however it's up to interpretation if he's a demon weapon.

8. Soul needs to consume at least a little bit of blood to use his inner power. Maka's blood has an unusual effect on him, however.

9. Due to demon weapons being more carnivorous (and probably more like actual demons), Soul needs blood as his main source of iron, which weapons need a lot more of. Human blood is more effective in maintaining good health and staving off hunger.

10. Soul and Maka investigate the ongoing case of livestock being taken and eaten. After splitting up, Soul however ends up not coming back once night falls, and Maka catches a glimpse of the thing responsible. Idea was initially werewolf related, however the details are left to interpretation.

11. Soul believes he has died and become a ghost, only for him to actually still be alive the entire time.

12. After Soul eats a witch's soul without knowing what it is, he discovers that he's actually a demon weapon when it results in his soul "overflowing" due to becoming bigger than his body, giving him superpower-like abilities including manifesting his scythe form outside of his body. Originally a doodle idea that I didn't get around to.

13. Soul wakes up in the middle of the night when a serial killer sneaks into his room after being attracted to his soul, which ends in Soul managing to kill the murderer in self-defense and waking up his family. This was a one-shot idea I had related to the previous idea, however it works as its own separate idea.

14. Soul finds he loves dissecting all kinds of things and seeing how they tick, but doesn't understand why.

15. Bloodborne-inspired AU where Soul is much like the Orphan of Kos, abandoned by the river after his mother passed away giving birth to him and sorrowfully looking up at the moon every night.

16. While investigating an abandoned lab with Stein, Kid, and Maka, Soul ends up getting forcefully taken by one of the machines after they accidentally start it up, and his body ends up getting near-perfectly duplicated. His soul, however, does not.

17. AU based on Exit 8. Soul finds himself trapped in an endlessly looping hallway and must find the differences to progress, only going forward when that iteration of the hall has no anomalies. Unbeknown to him, Kid is monitoring him as this is actually a test.

18. Soul has the ability to move objects telekinetically like you would in VR, however he mostly just uses it to be lazy. A potential idea I had for this world is that powers like these are usually restricted outside of their homes due to how easy to misuse they are, which contrasts with Soul using it in the most mundane way imaginable. Hey I mean couch snacks are couch snacks.

19. Soul loves the smell of the freezer, however this ends up getting him in trouble when opening it up for too long and too often causes ice to start spreading into the rest of the surrounding apartment.

20. Soul and Maka run a diner at the edge of the multiverse. Bonus points if they act like an old married couple.

21. Soul and Maka challenge each other to seeing who can beat a Sudoku puzzle first. After a few rounds, Soul’s puzzles start containing strange symbols and he finds out that he must complete the puzzle he started or he can’t leave.

22. After riding his motorcycle out to take a walk in the woods, Soul unknowingly encounters Siren Head until it's too late and he's then grabbed by it. The shock ends up turning him into a scythe (an ability he didn't know he had) and only saving him because the sudden transformation startles it, causing him to be dropped and letting him escape back on his bike. This was originally a one-shot idea that ended up changing a bit as I thought of it as an art piece as well.

23. I had a dream of adding a prompt where Soul turns into a werewolf and eats someone's livestock with the phrase "Sorry Maka, I was so hungry." Seems to be based on the earlier one where Soul and Maka investigate the missing livestock case.

24. As a prank, Soul pretends that he laid an egg when he woke up that morning. When he continues to incubate it for the joke, it hatches into something unexpected.

25. In a Wonderland, the “Mad Hare” is keeping “Alice” captive at a tea party, and must decide if he will let her go or take her soul to finally leave Wonderland for himself.

26. After finding out he’s a demon weapon, Soul travels through the Nevadan Desert on his own to find the elusive Death City, and sees some strange wildlife along the way.

27. Soul is a circus performer who works alongside a Clown (as in the kind like in Soul Eater but not with the same lore), and despite him feeling more at home here, he’s lately been struggling with feeling like he doesn’t fully belong when he sees the other troupe members start to have deeper affections for each other. And then Maka comes along.

28. One-shot idea where Soul is watching the cicadas call at sunset before Maka joins up with him, and it leads into the joke of Soul saying "Trees are screamin' again." These two are scholars in some sort of alternative time period, and Soul is taking a break out in the grass while Maka, as usual, is carrying far too many books/scrolls.

29. IT-inspired AU where child Soul is lured into the drainage by a reality-bending clown, however because Soul isn’t afraid of all the fun circus-y stuff (and because of his sharp teeth), the clown decides to just keep him instead.

30. After finding a cool rock stashed away in a tree in the woods, Maka takes it home and leaves it displayed in her living room. As it turns out, Soul's soul is inhabiting said rock and has now been awakened, making him haunt her apartment. Maka is oblivious to him being there, and because he can't really be detected or have much influence on the world, Soul ends up mostly moping on her furniture because he's lonely and depressed. Eventually though, she starts to see him after something causes her to "connect" with him and leads to them steadily interacting. At the height of the story, it is revealed that Soul was merely cursed to be trapped inside the rock after wishing he could be left alone, but now he wants to break free with the two having ended up befriending each other.

31. Partly a joke idea based on a video of a small group of people trapped inside a room with a pig-masked chainsaw murderer outside, and them escaping by just phonk walking out with the killer not knowing what to do. I'll leave this one up to your imagination.

32. Everyone’s always joked about how “it’s the humidity that’ll get you” until Soul gets pursued by the fog.

33. Soul is coerced into joining along in karaoke night because people (especially Maka) love the sound of his singing voice. He, however, does not and spends the night trying to figure out how to worm his way out of singing.

34. Based on the one hypothetical scenario where "if aliens invaded, would you fight them or try to hide," except it's actually occurring for real. I think this idea made me wonder if DWMA has any protocol for if aliens ended up being real and invading.

35. Post-canon idea where Soul and Maka end up going on a break of sorts to improve their connection and resonance when it gets worn thin, though things turn a little awkward when the "mind" and "body" portion involves close-contact social activities such as back massaging each other and soaking in the same hotsprings together.

36. Soul finds a plush rabbit that turns out to contain the soul of Maka who'd been sleeping before he took it home.

37. Soul and Maka, whom have never met, are being arranged to marry very soon. Soul dreads this because the wedding rings will bind them for the rest of their lives, however he comes to realize that Maka is far more dangerous than his family is.

38. A one-shot I call Who's Afraid of the Were-turkey. It's a Thanksgiving-themed idea where there's a local urban legend about a "man turkey" that will catch you around Thanksgiving if he finds you during the full moon, and will either eat you if you've eaten turkey or simply turn you into one if you anger him. While Soul's a little more wary of the possibility of this tale being true, Maka wants to debunk it after their idiot group of friends kept going on about it, and drags him along to disprove it once and for all. As it turns out, following the neighborhood turkeys was probably a bad idea when they all corner them and summon the Man Turkey. After reigning his judgement and the two are swarmed by the turkeys, they wake back up covered with scratches and bites, and the turkeys are nowhere to be found. They both look up when they remember the moon if full, and decide to hide under their jackets while returning home.

39. Another one-shot idea I've had for a long while where after Soul and Maka get stranded on a snowy mountain during a trip with no way to contact anyone for help, Soul reveals he is a were-animal and willingly changes to keep her warm for the night. Given there were two different iterations of this idea, I don't mind it being more open to interpret for the time being.

40. …Okay apparently I did have the other iteration on the list hah, can't say I wasn't tired by this point haha. After Soul and Maka get separated from their friend group in the mountains, they decide to seek refuge in a small cave for the night and Soul reveals he is a werewolf as he willingly transforms to make sure she’ll be warm during the snowstorm.

41. Another one-shot idea, where Soul's mother is on the run with her infant son while being hunted, as demon weapons are seen as actual demons in this world. To save him, she drops him off at the door of a church before running the other way to distract her pursuers, leaving him crying in the rain before Spirit (who is a part of the church to hide his own weapon nature) quickly takes him inside when he catches on to what's happening. At first he's nervous about there potentially actually being a demon baby as Soul has started growing in sharp teeth by this point, however he's soon taking a liking to him when Spirit's presence calms him, and he carries Soul further inside to help dry him off.

42. Another one-shot idea, where a young Soul is taken to the square with his brother to watch a young Maka be publicaly executed for being a witch. Despite the pleas of her father and Maka's tears, the fire is lit until suddenly it goes out, the crowd then parting as dozens of arms reach up from the ground, all running away as Soul walks up to Spirit quickly freeing his daughter. Now with her back in his arms, he thanks Soul for saving her while the strange hands return to his shadow, and offers him to come with them to live a new life. Soul turns to see Wes is already gone, and quietly nods, fleeing into the shadows with his new family.

43. After Soul gets convinced to skip school on his first day, things are all fun and games of being one of the cool kids until he gets turned into a donkey. Pinnochio-inspired AU.

44. Soul and Maka take on a special training assignment where they must face their innermost fears separately, and then together.

45. Soul is the Pied Piper, able to control any living creature with the sounds of his music playing. He doesn’t like to speak much as Black Blood is his sickness. May take place after the events of spiriting away the children of the town that refused to pay him for his service.

46. Had one prompt listed that was just me picking out any of my SoMa Week prompt ideas, such as "Catharsis" where a non-linear story interweaves the events of Soul playing piano for Maka after he smashed a mirror, and "Confession" where Soul finds Maka sleeping in a way that reminds him of the scene of Juliet being "dead," causing him to ramble out his feelings about Maka until it turns out she wasn't ever actually asleep.

47. Sekiro AU where Soul has the form of a wolf in the shape of a man, and Kid is Kuro. Was noted that it didn't have to be lore-heavy since it would've probably been loosely described for open interpretation if this had been chosen.

48. When a curse is spreading where people suddenly turn into animals, Soul ends up afflicted by it and turning into a wolf, a common but highly feared iteration. As fate would have it though, he finds himself waking up the next day as a human despite that being completely unheard of, with only the vague memory of a hand and the face of a girl having been in front of him.

49. The gang decide to set up a game of water balloon tag. This was originally an idea I had long ago where it was set up like the Hunger Games simulator, except just… water balloons haha

50. One morning Soul gets a frantic phone call from his best friend Maka, and quickly bicycles over to her house with a couple Poptarts still on hand. He's surprised to find that not only has she apparently woken up as a Kadabra, she's talking to him with just her thoughts, and he soon offers her a remaining Poptart of sympathy.

51. Soul and Maka go to investigate a wrecked house for an assignment, and once inside, their reflections begin to move and start messing with their heads.

52. Soul suddenly wakes up in the display case of a museum, not knowing how he got there.

53. Soul is a cyborg that utilizes DWMA's recent tech which operates on the power of one's soul, in turn making a literal phantom limb that is able to be used physically. When he gets infected, however, his false arm begins to act strangely.

54. Soul was once a spirit of the forest, now reduced to being only a nature park. He is wary of humans, but approachable to those wanting to help preserve and restore nature, although part of his skittishness stems from a dark look-alike that seems to be his direct counterpart and a spirit of pollution.

55. Wes is the dragon of the West Winds, Soul is the dragon of the East Winds. The two travel around on their respective halves, however sometimes they end up clashing and causing great storms.

56. Fern Gully-inspired AU, where Soul gets shrunk down and meets the fae of the forest.

57. Having been owned by a witch his whole life, Soul suddenly finds himself not knowing what to do when said witch is killed during the confrontation with a lone weapon in a suit of armor. The warrior, despite being heavily injured, refuses his help, and not being used to the concept of free will, Soul decides to follow her anyway until she passes out. Having carried her the rest of the way to have her injuries treated, he lingers around afterwards to help her recover back to health, and finds out more about who they both are.

58. After Soul jokes about wishing he had the memory of an elephant, he ends up getting turned into a small elephant.

59. A story like The Three Little Pigs where little piggy Soul lets a big bad wolf inside when he claims to be here to talk to his parents. After keeping him company like a proper guest, because Soul has been raised with good manners, his mother comes in, terrified, and the wolf simply leaves her with a warning to look after her son a little better as he was put in a good mood. It's then revealed that this is Soul retelling having unknowingly met Free when he was a kid to Maka.

60. A young Soul gets lost in a crowd and separated from his parents until a strange man finds him and offers to help reunite him. Soul isn't really aware of what's going on, but the strange man has them both avoid the dangers lurking around them (part of the cause of why Soul ended up separated), and soon enough gets him back to his family as promised. When Soul tries to point out the stranger that helped him, however, the man has already completely vanished.

[that-fandom-godess]

A Russian Rose

Chaptre Quatre

The next five days go by and I am walking on fiery eggshells the entire time. I cannot risk angering Oliver and he decided that I would go with him into town today. He 'helps' dress me this morning and tightens my corset far too tight. "Oli, can you loosen it a bit. I can't breathe well."

"If you didn't eat yourself a whole cow every day, than I wouldn't have to do this." I had been eating a bit more every day, but just because I was hungry.

He goes to pick up my skirt off the bed and I reach behind me to feel the tie and to possibly loosen it, but it is tied in a knot. "Oli, did you tie it in a knot?"

"Yes, because I can't trust you to not embarrass me again with your weight. I tied it so you wouldn't bother loosening the only thing keeping your figure in shape." I raise up my arms and he slides the skirts over my head. "This is taking too damn long. Maria!"

Poor Maria came in to fast and nearly fell flat on her face. "Yes, monsieur?"

"Finish dressing her, I have to make sure they pulled up the correct carriage." He checks his pocket watch. "And under no circumstances will you loosen her corset or I will send you straight to a poor house."

"Of course, monsieur." Oliver leaves us alone and Maria finishes dressing me in a cream colored spring dress. She pins my hair back and puts a bit of make up on my face. "You look beautiful."

"You tell me that every day." I use a handheld mirror to look at myself.

"I tell you because your sad excuse of a husband doesn't." I set down the mirror and stand up, my corset digging into my ribs.

"You mustn't let him hear you talk like that." I grab a perfume bottle and spray just a bit on my neck. "I know he can be cruel at times, but he has good reason to."

"I know you only say that because you don't believe it." She hands me my fan. "I hope you listen to that little voice inside you one day and be rid of that monster for good."

"Me too."

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

We are walking through the crowded streets of Paris, looking into shops and flaunting our wealth. Oliver is meeting up with his business partners and wanted me to look my best. I catch a glimpse of the burnt down opera house that save me less than a week ago. We come upon two men talking next to a carriage. "Monsieur Tremblay, Monsieur Abadie!" Oliver calls out to them and they look up at us from their conversation.

"Monsieur Ivemore!" Their attention turns to me. "Madam Ivemore." They shake Oliver's hand and I offer my gloved hand to both of them and they kiss it. "I have brought my largest carriage. I want us to be comfortable as we discuss big plans."

"I still don't understand why we couldn't be in the office."

"Dear Armand, it is because we have places to be. The office cannot just grow legs and carry us there." They all laugh. The coachman opens the door for us and Oliver gets onto the coach first. Armand follows and then Lenard. I am last and I gladly use his hand to help myself in. Getting into the carriage is much more difficult when I have a corset tied tighter than the Louvre. When I sit down, I can feel the corset become even tighter and my breasts be pushed up to be on display. I cannot fix it if I wanted to.

They start to discuss their business plans and where they think they should put their money. I am uninterested in the conversation and look out the window. My thoughts wander back to the Opera House. How is it that a place so feared can hold such beauty underneath? Not only that, but the fact that the Phantom Of The Opera was still alive baffled me. He couldn't have been a ghost because he could touch me. How was he able to stay alive and not been caught this whole time?

I guess I was too lost in thought because the next thing I knew, my husband's elbow jabs my side. "Anna, pay attention."

"Sorry, I was just thinking." I swallow hard.

"What were you thinking about?" Armand asked me with a laugh.

"It was nothing." I don't want the conversation to surround me.

"Of course it was, women never have any good thoughts." That earns a roar of laughter from inside the carriage. "That's why they have to be told what to think." That earns another wave of laughter.

Luckly we arrive at our destination and I am the first to get out. I notice we are on Rue De Rivoli and there is a building for sale right in front of me. The men get out and head straight to the building. They start discussing the space and if it will work in order to expand their business. I absently follow them around and allow my mind to wander back to the Phantom Of The Opera.

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

Before I know it, it is time to leave. We all pile back into the carriage and return to the place we were picked up. They say their goodbyes and Oliver and I start to walk home. "Oli, can we walk a bit slower, I can't keep up."

"If you can't keep up, then you will walk home alone." I start to fall behind and Oliver keeps walking.

I stop and try and catch my breath. My head feels like ice and I can't tell if the world is rocking back and forth, of if I am. I lean against a building and close my eyes, trying to make everything better. I just can't seem to get a good breath in. I open my eyes and try to make it home. I make it about a block before staggering into an alley. I can't let anybody see me like this or else they would tell my husband and I would be reprimanded. My vision starts to become spotty and I feel my legs turn to jelly. I turn and can faintly see the Opera Populaire just another block away. I try and muster up as much strength as I can and make my way there. Maybe Erik can help me.

I make it to the opposing street before I become too weak to go on and I collapse. I do the last thing I can think of. I scream. "ERIK!"

Everything goes black.

[its-the-ratdawg]

Perhaps you fear what will become of your life before. What will become of the years you spent seeking acceptance from the very cattle you longed to feast upon?

Do you think they'd be disgusted, its-the-ratdawg? Do you think they could even begin to grasp the sheer ecstasy that fills your imagination at the mere thought of sinking your teeth into them?

I could never be disgusted with you. Such a sight would be truly mesmerizing, and I find myself almost relieved that you haven't succumbed to these desires just yet. How beautiful it would be if, in that inevitable moment, I could bear witness to your initial act. To share in the intimacy of your first coup de grâce, where destiny intertwines with mortality. To indulge in the sight of the blood as it streams down your face.

It will make the hunger go away. It always does. You will never feel a greater sense of peace.

I've long forsaken the desire for normalcy, but this eternal starvation you feel, will never cease.

Unless you jump.

Know that if you dare to embrace the abyss, I will be there, standing unwavering in the depths, ready to catch you. Always.

All my life I’ve just wanted to be understood. Accepted. I just wanted to fit in, even if it meant I wasn’t honest.

Maybe it was all a waste. Maybe I was never meant to fit in.

But maybe, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe those years are what brought me here. Here to you.

Darling, I know they’d be disgusted with me. They’d be horrified. A glimpse into my imagination, into my cravings, that could take away their appetites forever.

They would never see me as one of them again. Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps, I acted the part so well that I fooled myself.

But I still didn’t fool you.

I couldn’t fool you. It would be like trying to lie to a mirror. I can’t keep you from knowing me and I don’t want to. You’re under my skin already, and you know the horrors that lie within. You love them. You revel in them.

I think this is what they call “snapping,” dearest. But maybe this isn’t me breaking. Maybe this is me coming together. Becoming.

And I want you with me when it happens.

I want you to see it in my eyes when I finally succumb. I want you to smell the blood I spill. If my newly embraced madness is a bonfire, I want you to stand in its glow and watch proudly as I consume. Devour. I want to mesmerize you with my violence.

I always thought I could put that moment off forever, but you call it inevitable. You’re telling me there’s no reason to put it off anymore.

I thought I could carve out these parts of me, toss them out like mangled, useless bits. But I can’t and I don’t have to. I don’t want to.

I can’t stand to starve anymore, my love.

I have to jump. I have to meet you in the depths.

[xxembeyroxx]

Yandere Genshin Impact harem

“Heyy! Y/n over here!” My little sister desperately tried to get my attention. Ignoring her, I continued walking. I loved my sister but I was tired from the exams, so the most appealing thing right now was my bed.

“Fine, I'll just go to the park by myself! Hmph!” Without another word she ran off, Leaving me to go play.

“Sis! We can play at home!” I shouted. giving chase to my sister, who wasn’t looking where she was going. She’s going to get hit! Picking up my speed, as a car near my sister. Everything was happening in slow motion. Just as the car was about to make an impact I pushed her out of the way sacrificing my own life for my sister’s.

(location shift brought to you by heizou’s climbing sounds)

“Huh…? Where..  Am… I..”?  Ahead of me there was nothing but pure black. Trying to move, I realized I was paralized. Was I just going to sit in this black void forever!?

“Fear not my child, I only wish to send you to your set world. So that you may continue to grow in a safe environment, of course.” A calming voice surrounded me and the darkness.

“...Why? Why….. You.. do what..?” I questioned, still a bit dazed by what had happened.

“You are my flesh and blood dear, I need to teach you to… nevermind what i just said. I’ll see you soon. Have fun!” My conciseness fading, i don’t make another sound, falling into a deep sleep

(location shift brought to by my bestie not coming to school today)

Waking up I find myself in a small cabin, outside there is a  flower field of Rhododendrons, Honeysuckle, and black roses. On the bedside table next to a vase of carnations  I found a note. it looks like it was written in a rush

Deariest Y/n,

You’ll find that you're in a new reality, please take the time to learn tevatian before you venture out into the world. It should be quite easy with your intelligence, and the books I provided. This is a time for you to learn and grow. Also if you come across a purple-haired wanderer, try to befriend him, he is not what he seems. 

Lots of love, Lotus

“Oh.. Okay then.” After reading the Note I decide that if need to learn a new language, 

I will do it in style.

(female) Putting on a light (favourite colour) dress that had a white lace trim around the edges. Underneath the dress, I have a pair of white stockings that has bows where the straps and socks(?) meet. 

(male) Putting on a light (favourite colour) shirt that had a white lace trim around the edges and clean white shorts. Underneath the shorts, I have a pair of white stockings that has bows where the straps and socks(?) meet

“ Let’s do a mirror check, before I brush my hair.” I murmur to myself. Wait wait wait “WHY DO I HAVE CALLA LILIES GROWING IN MY HAIR!? …Wait nobody’s going to answer me, I live alone.” avoiding the flowers I comb my hair, and put it in a braid. The Blossoms made to look like a flower crown with a few I could’nt get tucked into my braid. Finally happy with my looks, I start to study the foreign language. 

(Time skip brought to you by me because the paragraphs I made were really boring!)

Humming along to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star I take my regular strolls through the woods behind my home. The birds chirp and hop beside me as if I was a princess. 

Suddenly I catch a glimpse of a purple-haired boy yelling at two hooded men with a blond passed out in the back. A small floating child was trying to wake the blond up but to no avail. Perhaps I could get Gado to help him. Wait Gado only hel-

[newbie-whumping]

So something most of you probably don't know (and frankly, not your fault! I usually don't talk about myself on here) is that I really love Billie Eilish. Realized today that she released a new song and holy shit the mental PMV for this -

Anyway, as such, say hello to a whump songfic :)

Sometimes you look the same / just like you did before the accident

It's been years since Gaster died, years since they've all been finally, finally free of that man. So much has changed - Asriel can walk again, mostly without help. Kat is smiling again and purring as strong as she ever had. Ky is physical, and as ever, Brooke's best friend - and yet so much is the same. Looking over at her husband's sleeping face, she smiles. Sometimes, especially when they're asleep, it's just like when they were kids having sleepovers at Asgore's, huddled together in a cuddle puddle.

God, she loves him so much. She loves them both so much. She sits up, careful not to disturb either, and heads into the bathroom for her morning routine.

When you're staring into space, / it's hard to believe you don't remember it

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she splashes water on her face and pauses for a moment, halfway to reaching a washcloth. Out of the three of them, she feels she looks the most different. She's grown her hair out, a personal act of healing, since she usually kept it short during the rebellion. She still has a scar across her cheekbone that strains to reach the bridge of her nose - a souvenir from a particularly annoying run-in with the Secret Police. There's lines marking her skin, testaments to her aging. Remarkable how fast that seems to happen for someone in their thirties.

Brooke shakes her head, her hand finishing the motion of grabbing the washcloth to dry her face off. She proceeds to use the toilet and then shower. She's been getting lost in the past a lot lately, thinking a lot about the rebellion, about things that could've been, could've changed. About Kat in the hospital, all but lifeless, struggling even with the hope Ky brought. About Asriel and his hobbies, the track meet he never got to attend because of the accident. She doesn't know if he remembers it that well. He never claims to.

Woke up in the ambulance; / you pieced it all together on the drive. / I know you don't remember calling me, / but I told you even then you look so pretty. / In a hospital bed, / I remember you said / you were scared, / and so was I

She sat in the chair next to his bed, more numb than she wished she was. He wasn't awake yet, and she just waited. It felt like hours, weeks, seconds, before he finally spoke.

"Hey B."

She glanced up, shifting to sit straighter. "Hey fluffy boy." She managed a weak smile, which he returned.

Silence prevailed for a while. "Your mom's doing okay," she finally said.

"I know. She came in earlier. She doesn't really remember how we crashed; people seem to think it was a drunk driver."

"Do you?"

He paused. "I don't really know what else it could've been," he responded. "Mom didn't just randomly lose control. Or have an episode. They usually don't happen when she drives, y'know?"

"Yeah." Brooke had a suspicion that was partly a product of Gaster's doing. As ever when it came to him, though, she had no proof. "At least you get to rock a hospital gown."

He cracked a smile. "Leading the fashion front this year."

"You totally could. You could rock anything." She smiled in return.

He laughed a bit. "You're biased 'cause you love me."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"If you say so."

They fell into a comfortable silence. After a moment, she asked hesitantly, "Do you remember anything about it?"

He shook his head, wincing a bit. "No. I know it was bad, though. Couldn't even heal me with magic."

"Guess that rules out the upcoming track meet then, huh?" Brooke tried for a bigger smile. She knew he would be fine, he'd come back from worse. He came back from dying so many times; whatever injuries came from the crash, he'd get over them easily.

He looked away. There was a beat before he responded. "Might not do track next year."

"You'll be better by then," she shrugged.

Asriel sighed then. "No. I don't think I will."

"C'mon, Azzy. It's not like you to be pessimistic," she frowned.

"I'm not being pessimistic, Brooke. You know I'm not." He looked back at her, green eyes holding a world of exhaustion.

"I don't know that, actually." She felt anger starting to bubble up, brought from annoyance. "Cause it really sounds like you are."

"I'm really not. Doing track next year would be a miracle," Asriel persisted.

"I don't see how. You're gonna heal up in maybe three months tops, and I know you're gonna be itching to get back into it."

"Stop it," he said.

"Stop what? Trying to remind you you aren't hopeless?" Brooke's voice rose. "I'm not doing that, Azzy."

"Stop trying to act like everything is fine," he said, voice hardening.

"Everything is fine! Not now, but it's gonna be!"

"No it's not. Stop acting like it."

"I'm not gonna stop, Dreemurr! You're not acting yourself!" Heat and anger were seeping into her voice.

"I'm not going to be able to do track, Brooke! Not ever!" It was his turn for his voice to rise.

"One car crash isn't the end of the world; Jesus!"

"How am I supposed to do track when I'm paralyzed, Brooke?" he shouted.

She froze, the sudden silence deafening. "You're what?" she managed.

His anger still showed on his face, despite his voice returning to an inside level. "You didn't know?"

"I - no. No one..." It was like the anger was punched right out of her, replaced by shock.

"Well. Now you know." He looked away again.

Brooke tried finding something, anything to say. Finally, she managed, "I'm sorry."

He shrugged bitterly. "Sorry isn't gonna fix me."

"I know." She was quiet.

After several minutes, Asriel spoke again. "You know, I've lived through so much. Done so much, things I'm not proud of. Lived through so many timelines. But I think right now I'm something I haven't been since... Since Chara died, and that whole - fiasco." He finally looked back at her, and the vulnerability she saw there broke her heart right along with his next words. "I'm scared, Brooke."

She went to respond, to hold his hand, to offer reassurance. She never got the chance as a nurse entered, looking concerned. "Are you alright, Asriel? I heard shouting."

"Yeah. We're fine." His voice had returned to the tired tone from before.

The nurse took a look at the heart monitor, then at the clock on the wall. Addressing Brooke, it said, "Asriel needs to rest. It's getting late."

"Okay." She glanced at him. He had returned to looking at the wall. She got up. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure." He tried to smile at her. She offered one back.

Brooke nodded thanks to the nurse as she left. She felt tears prick her eyes and fought them back.

In a standstill on the 5, / thought it was unusually early traffic; / usually I don't panic. I / just wanted to be on time. / When I saw the ambulances on the shoulder, / I didn't even think of pulling over. / I pieced it all together late that night

Brooke still remembers that conversation more vividly than she wishes she did. It was such a hard thing to accept. Especially when she'd realized that night that she'd seen the ambulances around the crash site on the way to visiting Kat.

Her mom had rocked her as she'd cried on the couch. They were sixteen at the time - she felt so childish for needing the reassurance, the comfort - but it was nice to be held after Toriel's call. Her mom knew how much Asriel means to her - they'd been dating, of course he meant so much to her.

And I know you don't remember calling me, / but I told you even then you look so pretty. / In a hospital bed, / I remember you said / you were scared, / and so was I

The worst part had been being the one to tell Kat. The small monster had been in love with Asriel since... Well, none of them are really sure. Brooke thinks it was when they were going through the Underground, Kat thinks it was when he regained his body, Asriel thinks it was sometime long before either of those. Brooke and Kat disagree with him on the basis of him getting time confused a lot where the Underground is concerned, aside from when she'd been there.

The look on Kat's face had been pure devestation. Brooke couldn't even hold her hand because of the restrictions the ward had, and that still hurts to this day. She'd had her own mother, but Kat couldn't even be comforted by her best friend. The best she could settle for was asking for updates, and she did, constantly.

Brooke dresses and pulls her hair into a ponytail to dry, heading for the kitchen. She casts a glance at the bed as she passes - Asriel and Kat are still asleep, with the latter snuggled up to the former, as always. Brooke smiles a bit and continues on so she can make breakfast.

What if it happened to you on a different day? On a bridge where there wasn't a rail in the way? Or a neighborhood street where the little kids play? Or the Angeles Crest in the snow or the rain? What if you weren't alone; there were kids in the car? What if you were remote, no one knows where you are? If you changed anything, would you not have survived? You're alive, you're alive, you're alive

She gets to work on some hash browns, choosing to make them from scratch instead of grabbing the bag from the freezer. It's not something she does often - usually Azzy is the one to put more effort into food - but it feels right today.

Her mind continues to think about the past, stubbornly centering around Asriel and the accident. Even today, they don't know how the crash happened. She, Kat, and Ky are pretty certain it was engineered by Gaster - Asriel lost his ability to reset around the same time, not that he tried to use it much once they left Mt. Ebott - but whatever investigation went on was quickly wrapped up, and there was never enough evidence gathered to be conclusive. So the official statement is that it was a drunk driver hit and run.

In some ways, Brooke is glad that it happened near the town hall. Night Vale is many things, with many different levels of danger in any given area. The town hall is relatively safe. He and Toriel could've been out by route 800, somewhere where there wasn't a railing, and they could have gone spiraling into the desert. It could've been near their house, where kids have always been known to run around and play. It could've been out in Desert Bluffs, so vastly different from Night Vale at the time, when they had a blizzard or pouring rain; it could've been somewhere on the way to a different town entirely, somewhere they didn't have connection to Night Vale, somewhere no one would be able to find, it could have been in Radon Canyon where few can survive without masks or air, they could've been destroyed by the day's calamity, anything could have happened and he would've been gone right alongside Toriel, two people who have been there for her and loved her even if she wasn't a monster or had any obligation to them and how could she have lived and how could Kat have lived she loved him so much she loved Toriel so much it would've destroyed her Brooke could've lost her too and she's panicking now she knows she is it's okay Asriel is alive he's alive he's alive he's -

A gentle touch to her back has Brooke whirling around to fight because here, now, it's inevitable with Gaster in charge, and she's already holding something so she swings and -

She finds herself immobile and then turned carefully, sees the brown-tipped ears come into view followed by the cream head and baby blue pajamas and then she turns and -

It's just Kat, looking at her with a face full of concern. "Brooke?"

As she takes reality back in, Brooke recognizes a burning smell, and a burning sensation in her hand. She reflexively drops whatever she's holding, and it clatters to the floor.

And I know you don't remember calling me, / but I told you even then you looked so pretty / in your hospital bed / I remember you said / you were scared. / And so am I

"Are you okay, love?"

Kat, sweet Kat; always concerned for others even when she could be in danger. Brooke tries to get her mouth to work properly, but it won't cooperate. She dimly recognizes she has full control of her body again, and that she's leaning against the counter.

Kat moves to rest against her, both supporting her and giving her the ability to ground by purring and letting her run her hands through her thick, soft fur.

"The hash browns," Brooke finally manages.

"I moved them, don't worry babe." Kat butts her head gently against her wife's.

"Thanks."

Kat nods, hopping off the counter and taking Brooke's hand. She leads the human over to the couch, where she proceeds to cuddle up and continue to purr. Brooke resumes petting her, feeling the anxiety slowly ebb away.

"I was trying to make the good ones," she says after a moment. "Did they burn?"

Kat hesitates. "I think they did," she admits. She sits up, reaching for Brooke's hand. "I think you burned your hand, too."

"It's fine," Brooke says, flexing it and immediately feeling the burn flare up.

"May I?" Kat glances up at her.

Looking at her wife, Brooke can't find a no in her, so she nods. Gently, always gentle, Kat takes her hand in her paws. They glow for a moment, and Brooke feels the pain fade. It helps to bridge that last bit between her and reality as well, and she kisses the top of the cat monster's head. "Thanks babe."

Kat smiles at her, but it fades quickly. "Are you alright, Brooke? You weren't answering me, and you were really startled."

The human exhales slowly. "I... Got a little too caught up in the past," she says, adding quietly, "Thinking about Azzy."

Kat nods, leaning against her. "He's okay now. We all are. More or less," she adds as Brooke snorts.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are." Brooke smiles faintly. "He up yet?"

Kat shakes her head.

"Good. I don't want him to know about the hash brown failure."

That gets her wife to giggle. "He'd eat them anyway, you know he would."

"Yeah, but he shouldn't," Brooke snickers. She gets up. "Wanna help me with something simpler?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Probably scrambled eggs."

"Sure."

[casspurrjoybellbittner]

Wreckless - The Jacuzzi

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I'm not gonna lie... lying in a pool of semen and lube and sweat is not the way I prefer to spend my time and I'm 100 % sure that Finnegan agrees with me but neither of us move for a few minutes and even then it's only to separate a bit and lie on our backs.

I find his hand and hold it while we catch our breath.

"I want the toy back," he murmurs and I'm surprised.

I don't mind, obviously but I'd been mostly kidding.

Not about fucking him again, that's no laughing matter but I haven't even figured out if it'll be tonight or the morning.

Tonight is looking good.

"And to shower the yuck off and get in the jacuzzi."

That sounds really good.

The only slight problem is that it requires us to move.

"I don't want a huge house, glad the bathroom is close by."

Shit, I hope that doesn't fuck with his 'Little headspace'.

I need to stop mentioning adult things that he has to worry about.

He snorts.

"That's what my master is for, Emmett."

In what may be the sexiest show I've ever seen, he re-lubes the vibrator and slides it back in.

"Can't waste the master's juice," he says, smiling.

I suddenly have a little bit of energy so before I go over and start something I'm too tired to finish, I get up and wobble into the bathroom.

I start the shower, use some mouthwash and tie my hair up.

"Come on babe, let's rinse."

We do a good bit more than that.

First I exchange 'Finn's' toy for a more waterproof plug and we both decide that soap is a must.

Afterwards we wander into the living room buck naked.

"I don't wanna wear shorts," 'Finn' says and I agree.

"I doubt anyone can see us but I think towels are a happy compromise."

I grab one, tuck it around my waist and go out to start the water.

Luckily it's cooled off enough that I can make it fairly warm and twenty minutes later we're both in.

'Finn' brought water and a bottle of wine but no glasses so we're just chugging right out of the bottle.

The jets pounding against my back are heaven.

"This is so nice."

"Feels really good. Wish I had some toys. Can I play with your hair?"

That's a lot at once and he currently has a toy that's being well used but...

"Sure."

I give up my back jets and spin around so that I'm in front of him.

"Whatever you want, kiddo."

Mental note, always bring toys.

Non-sexual ones.

Well and those.

So sure, toys.

I take a few sips from the bottle, this is probably the most expensive wine I've ever had and wrap his feet around me.

His hands feel really good in my hair and against my scalp.

They felt really, really good earlier too.

"I loved you pulling my hair earlier, darling."

"Me too. Lots."

He gives it a quick tug and then leans up and kiss my cheek.

"And you were wrong, Emmett, you said I wouldn't like the second part but I did. Super lots."

Super lots.

He's cute.

"I'm glad."

"I made you feel good. I'm a good boy."

Damn, he needs to stop.

Empty balls or not, damn.

"Yes you are. I'm proud of you for taking my cock so well."

"I miss you but the plug is nice. Scoot up."

I oblige, who am I to say no to a request to 'scoot'?

"I'm hungry."

"I'll order us something. What sounds good?"

There's no way I'm leaving this room unless it catches on fire.

"I want a hamburger... a huge hamburger. With exta cheese."

I saw them on the menu earlier, no problem.

He's gonna have to wait a bit though because I'm not getting out yet.

Besides, he had ice cream so he's not actually gonna die if he has to wait an hour.

"I'll get you one when we get out."

We soak until the wine is gone and then finally drag ourselves out of the tub.

I feel like I'm floaty, like gravity isn't working quite right because all my muscles are jello.

He hops under a blanket and finds Avatar, the last Air-bender on TV and becomes completely engrossed.

I order dinner and clean up the mess we made earlier.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I'm now sporting a french braid down my back.

Peter would laugh his ass off.

I'm surprised he did such a good job.

"Where'd you learn to braid, Finn?"

"My sister, she always makes me."

His use of the present tense jumps out at me and I'm glad he's fully back in headspace and enjoying his weekend, especially since I messed it all up earlier with the medication freak out. 

I'm not going to fuck it up again.

I want him to be 'Little Finn' at least until we're home tomorrow... if I can manage it. 

Once we're back in Baltimore... we may need to talk and handle some things but for now it's just us.  

My cell-phone rings and I glance at the name flashing on my screen. 

It's Harris. 

"I'll be right back, darling." 

I go into the bedroom and answer. 

"Hey."

"Hey Locke, how are you?"

He always asks me that and he's one of those people that really want to know.

He's living over in California now, in Los Angeles I think. 

He's a social worker or a therapist or something and his new career is perfect for him. 

I always tell him that 'I'm fine' but this time I get to say...

"I'm really good. How are things in sunny Cali?"

"Warm. I hate it but it's good for the leg."

"Glad it's helping, Harris. How are you feeling?"

"Eh, it's still attached," he jokes. 

"When are you gonna come visit?"

"Not this week" I tease. 

But actually, it does sound good.

He's been asking me for six or eight months, since he headed out there.

I'm way too busy but I wonder if it's something Finnegan might be interested in once things settle down. 

Will things ever settle down? 

"But maybe this winter, if I can swing it."

"Good. Hey, keep in touch, Locke and thanks again."

"You can stop thanking me, Harris." 

He won't but I really wouldn't mind. 

"You would have done the same for me."

"Absolutely but I didn't have to. Hasta pronto and Locke?"

"Yeah?"

"Congrats on the boyfriend."

"Thanks, Monk... I'll talk to you later."  

Of course Finnegan asks me who it was, as soon as I head back out to the patio. 

"An army buddy of mine."

"You guys still talk? That's good."

"A few of us, yeah. The guys I was closest with."

 But that's not true... I just talk to the guys who make the most effort and are easy to reach. 

I'm saved by a knock on the door. 

"Dinner time." 

Shit, I need shorts.