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serenityinstone · 3 months

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Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down.

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment.

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur.

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror.

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did.

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup.

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.”

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

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iluvmissmaximoff · 7 months

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I’m confused about us?

Inspired by this mood board I made 🩷

This is basically just ooc Billy and literally doesn’t fit into the show’s storyline at all but I love me a good cowboy so I had to write about him.

Tags: Dom!Billy Sub!Reader punishments are given, spanking, smut, oral (m) lemme know if I missed any!

It’s 18 something (?? I have no clue when the show is set in) and you’re 19 when your parents decide drop you off with a man you barely know. William H Booney. They said “he’s a the son of some good friends of ours and they said he’ll straighten you right out” I don’t need straightening. You think. Geez you steel one truck and a bottle of liquor and suddenly everyone thinks your a problem. When you were first introduced you thought “hey maybe this won’t be so bad” You. Were. Wrong. Within the first 30 minutes your parents had left you, you couldn’t stand him. He came and sat down in front of your spot on his couch, Ok listen here little girl. He said, You frowned. Little girl? You thought. These are my rules. Follow them and you and me will be just fine. He smiled. No.1 please don’t steal no trucks or anything I have enough trouble with the neighbors around here I don’t need you making that worse for me. 2 Dont back talk me. There is nothing I hate more than an undisciplined girl. Your frown deeper. Though.. I guess that’s why your here isn’t it? He laughed like it was funny. You scoffed. No I’m here because my parents expect me to stay home and clean or embroider. You laugh, And that’s not something I can do every day. Oh? Speaking of that. You’re not gonna be goin out for the first two weeks. WHAT?! You said shocked. Yes mam I think it’s exactly what you need. He said patting your thigh. I need to not go outside? You asked rudely. No you need to realize you only get what given to you. Now I want you to understand if you break any of my rules you gon be goin over my knee that minute young lady. You understand? He asked. You turned red, w-what? You said hoping you misheard him. Yes mam I don’t know about y’all city people but right here when you misbehave you don’t like what happens to ya. N-no you don’t understand, my parents would never let a strange man do that to me. S-so call my daddy and he’ll tell you you’re not allowed to do that to me. You said almost confidently. Sorry sweetheart your folks were real clear I should do whatever need be to make you behave. Tears came to your eyes, but as long as you’re good you’ll be fine. You can do that right? You said to yourself.

No. No you can not.

Less than 24 hours later you found yourself over his lap, it happened because you saw some boys going on a trail ride through the window, you saw one of them had a flask. You thought how bad do I need that, you had been up since 5am thinking about Billy, how blue his eyes were how commanding his voice was (how good he’d fuck you) but that he’d probably never want you. He apparently he saw you as a little girl. Ugh I don’t like older men anyway (wrongg) you thought. As you tried to quietly sneak down the stairs and out the front door. You saw it was locked with a padlock. Shit you thought. Your eyes darted to the window. You smirked, I don’t know what he was thinking I can fit out of these windows easy. As you were lifting the window up all you saw was two hands towing over you and pushing the window back down. Your heart almost stopped. He leaned down to your ear and said. Now what do you think you’re doing little girl? He asked darkly. Uhhhh. before you could come up with an answer. He had picked you up and put you over his shoulder. You squeaked Ah! You yelled. Put me down!- he did in fact put you down… just over his lap. No! You yelled. Oh hush. No need for a tantrum now. I’m not having a tantrum! I’m a grown woman and you can’t do this t- you were cut off by him putting his hand over your mouth. You tried to wiggle your way out but he easily lifted up your skirt. And you felt a warm hand on your bottom. His hand rose, and fell quickly, alternating cheeks. If there was anyone else in the house they would have definitely heard the loud smacks! Billy was giving you. And your muffled cursing. After about 4 minutes of him doing this you were about to cry. You tried to get away but to no avail. He easily pulled you back to position and gave you two extra hard slaps. And kept going. He finished soon after you started crying. Your bottom stung. Nobody had ever done this to you before. It didn’t hurt that bad but the humiliation hurt He brought you back up and sat you on his lap, you quickly adverted your eyes down as to not make eye contact. But he harshly grabbed your face smooshing your cheeks together, listen, he said dominantly like he was scolding a child. This or worse is gon happen every time you disobey me , you let out a light sob just thinking about it. So I’ll let you decide whether or not you want this kind of stuff to keep happening.

No I really do not you thought.

It was two days later when you ended up in this position again. Billy had jokingly bought you an embroidery kit. And you had not so jokingly told him to fuck off. So he threatened to wash your mouth out with soap… what ? You said. I said you better watch your tongue or I’m gon have to wash your mouth out. He said dominantly. You suddenly felt very wet.. and figured what’s the worst that could happen? There are other things of yours I’d like in my mouth more sir. You said in a lustful tone, while looking up at him from your spot on the bed. Literally two seconds later he was unzipping his pants, he used your mouth roughly holding your hair in a ponytail. After he had came in your mouth and regained himself. You stood up and grabbed his shoulders, pressing yourself against him your body asking him for more- huh? You thought as he quickly sat and pulled you down and back over his knee. W-wait Billy- you tried to protest as he cut he off. Hush. Was all you heard before your skirt was lifted and smacks rained down on your poor bottom. “Luckily” for you it was a lighter one than your first but you were still confused. He was spanking you like a disobedient child. Not like a woman that had just sucked him off. “I’m confused about us” you thought.

This is it for today I’m totally planning on making this a series so request anything that would make sense in the story line once I get a few I’ll write part two so the more yall request the faster I’ll write. Also if you guys want to make any mood boards more this id love it! Also my request have been a bit wonky lately so if it doesn’t seem to be working just dm me please! Thanks for reading!

#coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #spank me daddy #sir kink #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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rotten-pup · 4 months

Text

18 + Only, minors will be blocked, you are not welcome here

☆About Me☆

You can call me Rot. I'm 21, he/they, transmasc and this is my horny blog! This will be my general horny content blog where I'll post/reblog the stuff I like however I will separate some of my interests and kinks onto other blogs. I am pre-t and pre-op. Generally just queer but I like people of any gender however I do lean more t4t

My asks are open for anything! Send me stuff!!

My dms are openish. At this time I'm not looking to sext and heavily flirt. I'm going through a lot and will be slow to respond most times. I really only have the brainpower to hold conversations about my special interests or if someone infodumps to me and I get to ask questions.

I'm comfortable with most masculine or feminine terms when referring to the parts of my body, I don't usually have a preference. I'll update this when I find something I don't like! I should probably add on that I'm a switch/vers in theory, mostly a sub/bottom in practice as I'm not confident enough to fully dom/top quite yet.

(rest of this post is a work in progress, bear with me please)

Without any further ado; list of content/kinks I like that you may find here(list incomplete):

Absolutely Yes: Petplay, Degradation, Praise (giving) Bondage, Impact play, Breeding, Somno, Edging, Overstim, Oviposition, Humiliation, Primal Play, Intox, Light CNC, Mommy kink??

Sometimes/Maybe: Choking (receiving), Praise (receiving)

Hard Limits: Scat, Death/Slob Feedism, Inflation, Raceplay, Feet

Kinks that will be mostly likely on a separate blog that I still like: Hypno, Knife play, Heavy CNC

Outside of all that, I'm going to list my sideblogs and tags down below and any other information I see fit so this intro isn't too long! (ps: if you know me from my previously deleted blog, feel free to say hi, I'd love to talk to y'all again, I was going through a really rough patch and honestly I'm so sorry I just disappeared)

My tags:

- rotposts: original content

- rotbarks: answering asks

- rotspeaks: non horny, rambles, or unrelated content

My sideblogs:

- @barkandbarkandbark : vent blog, rambles, literally anything just me talking to the digital void

Just a little more about me:

- @boymommy-brainrot : Mommy kink blog, a mostly gentle softer vibe, pics of me will also be on here

*Mommy is mostly a title, I like taking care of people and being gentle with them and just making them happy through acts of service. My kink is in no way an incest thing and as much I may use certain terms/words it is also not a ddlg thing either

Major theatre nerd, musicals, plays, plays with music, don't matter I love them all! I've acted in a few local shows, I've ran lights, I've staged managed, done a few other things. I'm really into dungeons and dragons and other ttrpgs and board games, and card games like magic the gathering. I love to draw and I love my silly little ocs I've made. If you upload your ocs or your fursona on your blog, there's a chance I might draw them, I like making art for others when I have the time.

Uhhhh, idk what else. I'm currently playing palword, this war of mine, overcooked 2, lethal company, escape the backrooms. However I do have many other games and if you ever wanted to play, just dm me, I'm down to find sometimes as long as we've talked a bit first and we vibe! I have major brainrot for Dead by Daylight right now so so badly

Oh yeah I fucking love robots I absolutely love robots and puppets I'm surprised I'm not like into fnaf more but man I just want to scream they're so cool.

I'll probably think of some other things to put here idk lol

#rotposts #rotbarks #rotspeaks

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astolfofo · 1 year

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deja vu, Jamis vu

BSD beast au x reader. Based on the end of the beast movie. AUTHORS NOTE: SO. ITS FINALLY DONE. ITS 4AM I AM ON IPAD TUMBLR AND UHHHH… I tried to edit this. but. TUMBLR WAS BEING AN ASS. and the two hours I spent editing this went down the drain. Mere words could not describe the grief I felt at 3:37 in the morning. I would have screamed if I weren’t so zombieified. Then, I tried to be paitent and edit it another time, but tumblr was like: haha no. so it didn’t save. I swear it’s not my fault if you have a stroke while reading this. I sacrificed my sleep for an entire week to do write this. Please give me some credit for my suffering. /lh

Also keep in mind. I have watched the DA movie and the beast movie a whopping total of 1 time. It’s probably very off from what I was trying to communicate, cause I legit have no clue what goes on in the light novels... spare me the slander.

Last thing, I tried something new with this one, so there’s weird ahh switches between first person and 2nd person in this. Idk how good it is, lmk if i should never do it again.

Tw: head injury, murder, blood, suicide, yeah I think that’s about it.

word count: 6.8k

To all the Chuuya enjoyers out there, I’m sorry for being a disappointment.

Tags: @redeemingmygloryintopurgatory

I’m wet.

Im standing outside his door, knocking as it rains outside, without an umbrella, cold, and of course, drenched.

Helplessly, I knock on his door, hoping for a response from him. I know it’s pointless, by now. I should cut him out of my life by now, I should… leave him. He’s not a good person, he’s part of the Port Mafia, for the love of god… I’m scared of him. He could crush me at any moment. Hell, he breaks into my house so frequently, and even though he’s done no harm… he could kill me at any moment. So why am I here? Shouldn’t I be relieved that he hasn’t shown up at my apartment for over a month now? I… just can’t…

Lightening splits the sky in half and the sound of thunder cracks in the air.

Your fist slides down the window pane of the door. It makes a terrible sound, and you wince in pain from the sting of the friction. You should just go home. It was obvious Chuuya wasn’t even home, he never was. And if he wasn’t even home, how would he even answer the door? You regret coming here in the first place, you didn’t even know why you chose to. Was it out of worry? Was it because you had to say something to him? You couldn’t remember by now, it was all on impulse.

Chuuya had broken into your apartment countless times. Still, no matter how many times you’d snap at him, how many times you’d emptily threaten him, or try to push him off the balcony, he still came back the next day, unphased. You couldn’t get rid of him, no matter how hard you tried. And after many days, you had learned to accept that someone could break into your home at any given moment.

And you had no knowledge of how he knew you, let alone knowledge of how he even got your house key. Or maybe he picked your lock. You couldn’t be sure and you really did not want to know.

Every day, you’d come back home from work, and Chuuya would be sitting on your couch, drinking your wine (much to your own distaste). You’d usually give him a dirty look, and he’d glare in return but you’d say nothing. You preferred not to talk to him, and Chuuya wouldn’t raise conversations by himself. He always sat in the corner of the room, observing… scrutinizing every move you made. On the rare occasions when you had managed to start a conversation with him, it was always painfully awkward.

You once remember asking him why he was here, what he wanted from you, and his true intentions. Chuuya looked at you in an amused manner and stared out the window.

“Why I’m doing this? You’ll find out yourself when the time is right.”

By the time you had woken up, he was always gone. As if he was never there in the first place. The only thing he’d leave was the wine glass he’d drink out of, and your clothes you had hauled back from the laundromat messily folded, in your drawer. Occasionally, when it warm out, he’d leave the window open. They were small actions. Meant to be noticed, but not returned.

The splashing of rain intensifies, as you stand on Chuuya’s porch. He’s not home. You can’t stand here forever. You have to get back home before it’s too late.

What a great way to spend my time off work.

But you wanted to try one last thing before you left. Maybe his door was unlocked the entire time. Although you would doubt it, it was worth a try. It was so stupid to do this, all of it was. But your curiosity is getting the best of you, and you desperately wanted answers. Answers only Chuuya could give.

So, you grip the door handle and twist the doorknob. Much to your shock, the mechanics of the door click, and the door opens.

Chuuya had left the door unlocked. He forgot to lock his own door. You take a step up, and stand in the doorway. The rain is still hitting your back, and you groan realizing that you’re dripping water onto the floor. Quickly, you step in and shut the door. You twist the lock, ensuring that no one else would come in.

You sure hope Chuuya wasn’t going to come home tonight. The thought of it made the hair on your neck stand slightly.

You take off your shoes which are drenched in water and stare in the mirror. You’re soaked to the bone. Your clothes are completely see-through. You’d need to change them. That could wait, though. If the rain stopped, you’d go home as soon as possible.

Okay. Quick in and out it is. I need to find my spare key, and I need to find what happened to him after the explosion in the sky that day. The one that happened on the top of the… port mafia building. You shudder. I wonder what happened. It was so bright that it looked as if the sky exploded for a second. The next thing you know, everything is back to normal… except it isn’t. A dead body is found at the bottom of the building.

Followed by that, I never saw Chuuya again, but many people that were close to me have been avoiding me. When asked why, they avoided my question. There isn’t a strong connection there, but I think… that all of these events are connected somehow. Chuuya never appears again, and the fact he works for the Port Mafia, definetly does not help.

Additionally, the Armed Dective Agency sent me a letter to be wary of Chuuya. With no additional information. There’s something going on here. Something is wrong. Something terribily wrong.

And I’m scared.

Apprehensively, you take several steps inside the house. You keep getting the feeling that you may get caught. But you don’t hear anything at the door. It’s a painful paranoia.

You inhale and exhale.

I’ll start looking for hints first. I don’t need an answer right away. One hint will be able to give me lots. I’ll start from his room, that’s where people are most likely to hide things.

You walk as quickly as possible across the empty corridor in the house. His house is eerily empty. There isn’t much in it, just a lot of furniture, a shelf of wine, messy papers and a few books placed sparsely across the rooms.

You walk up the stairs, which slightly creaks under your weight. You try your best to ignore any noises and try to stay focused. As you reach the top of the stairs, you see his bedroom, which is the first room at the end of the staircase.

You walk towards the room, you open the door and look around. Chuuya’s room is surprisingly fuller than the rest of the house. There is a dresser, with several items stacked on top of it. It has drawers, which you assume were full. His closet was also filled with clothes, with various hats on the shelf above in his closet.

Chuuya’s bed was neatly made, giving the impression that he had not been home in weeks. Unoccupied, cold, and abandoned. Yet you felt a temptation to lie in it either way. Your eyes dart to the dresser again, and you look at the various items spread out on it. None of these are of much use to you. Besides the gun that seemed unused.

Your hands move to the drawers and you begin to search them. In the first one, there was nothing. Just a bunch of stationery, and papers, some of which had blood on them. You shudder in disgust and move on.

You struggled to pull the second drawer. After a moment, it slides open and you look at the inside contents. You stare at it, wondering if you open it. There is no address on it, and it isn’t sealed.

You have a bad feeling about this, but your hands move faster than your brain. You pull out the piece of paper and read its contents.

The letter is addressed to you. It doesn’t include much. Just A single sentence that holds an address.

And then it hits you.

Chuuya had been planning this for a long time. He had purposely left the door unlocked, left his house empty, and left you because he knew you would try to find him one day.

It infuriates you more than you expect. But you can’t stop here. You’ll go to a specific location.

Just to be sure, you look in the third drawer, you see your spare key, as well as a lock cutter.

Its dark now. It’s still pouring. You have no choice to stay here for tonight. Begrudgingly, you curse yourself for dragging yourself into this. Still, you were in too deep to back out now. Whatever happens, will happen.

You wake up.

You're lying on Chuuya's bed, in his clothes, begrudgingly. Your own clothes are discarded onto the floor, dried during the time you had been asleep. Still, you don't exactly feel like changing into them. It felt too gross to wear them.

You shake your head. Now's not the time to be thinking about that. You sit up, and stretch your arms. Then, you walk towards the desk again, and look at the address. You take note of the address, and take your spare key. Before you go, you flip over the paper, ensuring that you didn't miss anything. There's another sentence scribbled on the top of the paper.

I know you're reading this. You want to know why I'm gone, and why I did this. The address that is provided will help you, but it will not give you the answer, nor will I be there.

…What?

You read the sentence over and over again. The words sink in, making you feel conflicted. You knew you were getting yourself into a certain kind of danger by doing this, but you didn't expect it to be this risky. Hell, you didn't even know where the man was now, and not to mention… the location…

You look at the location again.

It's on the street where the explosion happened. And you're no fool. If it was on that street, it meant it was that building. There were no other possibilities. You doubt it would be any other one of those tall skyscrapers, anyways. The one where the explosion happened was the only building Chuuya had any affiliations with.

Which was going to be incredibly difficult to get into. Let alone, to the top floor. You'd be dead even trying to set foot into the door. It wasn't worth your life for this. You should forget about it and go back home.

You look through the paper again, hoping there might be something more to help you. Sighing, you came back with nothing. I suppose I really have to go through with this, don't I? There's no turning back.

The walk to the Port Mafia's building was rather short, if you were being completely honest. It was located in the heart of Yokohama, and was one of the tallest buildings there, if that told you anything.

You stand outside the building, as the apprehension and fear build up inside you. You had never felt as much of a need to run from anything, as much as you did now. The doors, despite their grandeur size, and large glass design, looked uninviting. Almost like doors to a bank vault; the kind of doors that told you, you wouldn't be able to get out, as soon as you stepped in. And from various things people has told you throughout the years, the Port Mafia keeps people it's had come into contact with. It's more powerful beyond belief.

It doesn't need to control you. You'll be forced into being pliant for them, simply by fear. No one can betray them. Death is almost a guarantee if you do.

And recently, they had also become violent as well. You might as well be walking yourself into a death wish.

But your feet remained rooted into the ground, and part of you remains determined to see this through. So you take a deep breath and walk into the building.

You try to remain calm as you push through the doors, into the lobby. You pray Hou won't be swatted with bullets as soon as you enter, but much to your own surprise, there's no one in the lobby. It's completely empty.

It doesn't feel right. You wonder if what happened. Well, it's not your business anyways. You couldn't care less. You just needed to find whoever Chuuya's office is and-

"Who are you?"

shit. you curse under your breath. "I-I'm," you turn around to face the person talking g to you. As soon as you do this, the man's eyes widen, and you acknowledge away slightly. "Sorry… um… do you know where Chuuya is?"

You had never felt so idiotic and out of place in your life. You can physically feel your heart pounding inside your chest, as you pray you don't look too suspicious. You can't mess up here. Though the man you are currently talking to isn't holding any firearm. That may just as well mean he has even worse methods to kill you off.

"He's not here."

of course, he isn't. You think to yourself. He wrote that in his own letter, or whatever you call it.

"He's been arrested." The man looks you directly into your eyes, and as on instinct, you look down, too scared to actually look at him. A few moments pass in silence.

"Can you… perhaps tell me why?"

"After the previous Port Mafia executive committed suicide, Chuuya was forced to lead the Port Mafia. He hated the job greatly, and he eventually…" He stops himself.

"Go on." You mutter.

The man tilts his head and looks at you again. "Are you sure? If you want to see him… it's better just to see for yourself." He stops for a second.

"No… please tell me. Tell me everything that you possibly can."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Fine then. If you insist."

"Chuuya lost his control over himself. He slowly became more, deranged, if you will, as time went on. After the old executive killed himself, Chuuya had no one left. Or at least, that's what we saw. His orders became more and more irrational, often just resorting to killing everything, and slowly, he eventually broke. He went on a rampage, as you've probably seen, Yokohama is not safe with him around. He almost destroyed Yokohama in its entirety, and it took serveral organizations to stop him. I don't know the exact details after that. He remains locked up underground."

You feel as if you had been doused under cold water. You didn't only have your question answered, but that also explained several other things as well. You try to recollect your thoughts while figuring out what to do next.

"By the way, you look familiar."

"How so?"

"I don't know, to he honest. You look like someone who used to work here. Maybe my mind js tricking me, though. You look too weak to be here."

"Yeah," you force out an awkward laugh, "I could never work here for the life of me."

"Figures."

another awkward pause, as you stare at the man.

"I assume you need Chuuya's location, don't you?"

You nod.

"Here." He hands you a piece of paper, with an address messily scrawled onto it. "Although, I don't recommend going to see him, tell the guards you are a relative of his. Hopefully, it will convince them enough to let you in. Though, if you want, I'm sure you can attempt to knock the guards out. Chuuya's well… very restrained so he won't hurt you."

"Ah… thank you."

"Don't mention it."

You bow and leave.

"Hey wait-" the man calls out, his voice echoing through the empty lobby. He seems hesitant to ask something. You stop and turn around. "Yeah?"

He looks down, and awkwardly avoids eye contact for a second. It's at this moment you realize he's a man with short, white, hair, as well thick bangs that were cut into a slant. He’s rather short, and he’s wearing a long jacket.

He looks… familiar. I wonder why.

“What’s your name?”

You stare at him for another moment before answering. “It’s Y/N.”

You could have sworn you had seen a face of surprise from him for a second, but it could have been your imagination because the next instant you blink, it’s gone. “I see,” he says slowly. “Be careful then. He’s not the same as what you may remember.”

As… I remember? What….

“Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Just go to the address, and everything will make sense.”

“Hey wait-”

He’s already turned his back and left on you. You’re left with so many more questions than you started off with, and dread creeps up you again. There was a warning tone in his voice, almost as if telling you to do this was a terrible idea. That you were going to be landing yourself in scalding hot water, and you wouldn’t be able to get out. You knew the risks from the start, but…

You quickly unfold the paper, and look for the address. Once again, the address is written in the center of the paper. You carefully look around for any other writing on the paper.

It’s completely white. Blank. Except for one sentence on the bottom: It’s never too late to back out.

And you stare at it, and think about the several cryptic warnings you received from this man. So… you’re telling me, that after that explosion happened in the sky… a dead body, the previous executive was found. Then shortly after that, Chuuya became the executive of the Mafia. He hated it. But he had no choice and was left alone to do it. Eventually, he lost his sanity and mind and the Mafia… I guess? Because very corrupt, violent, and unsafe. It took many people to stop him, and how he was arrested in an underground cell. At this address.

It’s clear he’s cutting something out. He said to be careful. Of course, if Chuuya has lost his mind, I need to do that. But he empathized that I should be wary of him. Also, he said I looked familiar, and he also looks familiar to me. He mentioned something about… me remembering? Have I known Chuuya for longer?

But he also said that only Chuuya has the answers to all my questions. So that means in other words, he knows what happened during the explosion, he knows that Chuuya has been breaking into my apartment and he knows more about my entire predicament now, than I do.

Just… who exactly is he? How and why?

You cut yourself off from those thoughts.

Ugh. this is ending up being so much more complicated than it was supposed to be. You thought in bitterness. So basically, I’ll go to the address, and get the answers to my questions. Sounds simple enough. There’s no need to overthink this. Maybe i’m just being paranoid. What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, a lot. But I’ll just ignore that for now.

You turn around and walk towards the door again. To be honest, you don’t want to know what might happen once you see him. You were already nervous from the implications the man had told you moments ago, and you were coming to realize there were some things that you noticed when you were in Chuuya’s house. Things that you maybe weren’t supposed to know about or see.

In the bottom of the drawer… there were documents. Documentation of everything that happened on the day of the explosion. A bright light illumined the sky, followed by the dead body found; the previous port mafia’s executive; Dazai Osamu. The two closest people to the explosion were a member of the port mafia, Atsushi Nakajima, and a member in the training of the Armed Detective Agency, Ryounouske Akuwatagawa. They are believed to be the cause of the explosion.

No one knows the exact events inside the Port Mafia on that day, except for the individuals involved in the actions that happened. According to the Armed Detective Agency, Akuwtagawa had barged into the Port Mafia to challenge the Port Mafia Executive. He accordingly, fought many individuals in the Port Mafia, a body count is yet to be determined. Data from thereon forth is unknown until the individuals reach the top of the building, where the most notorious event stated above occurred.

Additionally, after thorough examination of the body of the previous Port Mafia Excuetive, it can be concluded that he had committed suicide by jumping off the building.

The document ends there, and the paper is ripped in half.

It felt like every meter you travelled towards that location was walking towards a terrible, yet inevitable fate. The drive there, dragged on and on as if mocking you for your choices. You find yourself counting down the seconds until you can arrive at the location given.

Oh, how you wished you had stayed at home instead of seeking him out. If only your morbid curiosity hadn’t gotten the best of you.

You’ve lost track of the time you’ve spent on the train, only waiting for the loudspeaker to announce your stop. The location you figure you were given led you to a rather remote area, likely in the outskirts of Yokohama. If not further. The man had told you he was locked underground, completely isolated from everything.

You found that part the most unsettling. If they needed that many security measures to keep him in place, it was likely he was completely gone. Gone beyond saving. If he had succumbed that much to his own grief and madness, it would be a question of whether he would still remember you or not.

You look out the window again, enjoying your last moments of peace.

This is the eerie calm before the storm, isn’t it?

Moments after you think that, the train halts to a stop at the last station in Yokohama, and you get off. Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, and you’re not sure if you can stop it.

You try your best to remain calm. Force yourself to keep going. He’s special to you. You can’t lose him, even if you hate him. You need him. He’s the only one who still cares.

And above all, he’s the only one who remembers you at all.

And so, you go. You take all the correct turns. You try to walk as quickly as you could, to arrive at the destination. You keep going, and going and going until…

You’re here.

It’s one of the better buildings on the outskirts of the city, yet… it looks incredibly unsettling. It’s a mundane building, one made from standard concrete, and glass. Yet. As you stand so close, you see cracks in the building. The door is partially cracked as well.

Well, I’m here already. Whatever happens, happens. I may die in there, still, before I die, I have to know the answer. The answer… why can’t I remember? Chuuya. I want him to tell me, what he did to me. Why he came to my apartment every day. Why he’s… he’s…..

Oh. My hands are shaking. Surely I cannot be this terrified can I? I will do this even if it kills me.

You pull the door open and enter the building. The piece of paper told you that it was on the lowest floor. Your footsteps echo in the empty building, and it feels creepy no one is here.

Huh. Gives some Deja Vu, doesn’t it?

You proceed towards the elevator at the end of the hall, and press the down button. Almost instantly, the elevator makes a “ding” noise, and the doors open. You quickly step in and look for the lowest button. With a deep breath, you push the button, and the door closes.

You stare at your face in the mirror. You look terrible. Pale and your hair is completely dishevelled and a mess. If you didn’t know any better, you’d look like you were sick. You had been extremely anxious about this for an entire day, after all.

The elevator doors once again slide open.

Here goes nothing. You sigh. I’d better hear you talking today, Chuuya. You have a lot to tell me. And you’d better tell me it all.

You step outside the elevator. There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing, and no one here. The halls are empty, and the strong scent of stale air, combined with dust fills your nostrils. You feel like coughing for a second, but you hold yourself back. You didn’t want to make any noise to give away your presence. You take another step.

Despite what the man said, it was clear that there was no one else there. No prison guards, no other cells inside. It was clearly a floor made, simply to detain one individual in particular. Isolated, and secure enough that they’d never be able to escape. Deep enough underground that they’d never even know where they were.

Your footsteps tap loudly against the concrete and echo everywhere around. As you walk down the hall, the lightbulbs behind you light up. The man had told you it was in the deepest part of the prison. However, what he didn’t account for, was that you had no idea how this floor was organized.

Not to mention it was starting to get creepy really quickly. Although there should be nothing else in here, you were starting to get the sense that there was something dangerous that might lurk in the air. You tell yourself it’s probably just the dark and your own fatigue and you were imagining things.

The emptiness of the entire building creeps you out. It’s eerie. It feels like you were lead into the wrong location, and you were walking into a dead end. It almost felt almost like a trap that you had been lured into. And every second, the floor grew significantly more eerie. The lack of any presence and the darkness despite the very few lightbulbs attached to the ceiling enhanced that.

I should be getting close now… right?

You were. You could see a light at the end of this hallway, which was illuminated with an orange light. It must have been where Chuuya’s cell was. There was no other place as illuminated as this, and there was no reason for it to be.

You had gotten this far. There was no reason you should be stopping now. Should you? The answer… you had always looked for, you could get it now.

Chuuya always hid something from me. He has never answered once, one of my questions. He’s never told me why he comes to my house every day, he never told me once why he was gone. For as long as I remember, I’ve been coming back from my job, and seeing him there. But one day, he disappeared. No reason why, no reason of how. He just did.

But apart from my job, there’s another piece missing to this puzzle. There’s something else that I’ve always wanted to ask him besides why he’s gone missing, and the explosion which I already had the answer to. He knows me, better than I know myself.

What was I before all of this happened?

I know there’s something before all of this. It just doesn’t add up. The man I saw in the mafia looked familiar. The building itself was in a place that I had felt I had been in at some time before. There’s deja vu there.

But when I first walked into the apartment, the first day before I saw Chuuya, I had jamais vu. A familiar place, that I didn’t know. And consequently, I couldn’t remember much before that. So what-

“I know you’re there, (Y/N). You’ve been standing there for quite some time.”

Shit.

Your thoughts are cut off by that voice you instantly knew. Chuuya was indeed, there. But his voice didn’t sound the same as you remember. There wasn’t any of the snarkiness, or egotistical attitude in his voice anymore. Instead, his voice was laced with aggression, and a malice that made you hesitant to even come forward.

You open your jaw to speak, but almost if Chuuya knew, he spoke before you. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to know why I left you, don’t you? I assume that someone has already told you about what happened on the day I stopped seeing you, and I’m sure you know all about the aftermath of that.”

You feel like you are doused in cold water. How did he know? Did he plan all of this. You want to open your mouth and tell him to slow down, but he continues, anyways.

“And you’ve been having deja vu for several days, too. You feel like you know the Port Mafia building, you feel like you recognize everything you saw, including my home.” Silence, as he pauses for a second. “So why don’t you… come and face me, and I’ll tell you what actually happened?”

“Chuuya-”

You hear no response. You sigh and walk towards his cell. You’re not ready to hear this, and you’re not sure you can face him.

He’s different. He’s not the same anymore. He sounds more violent, his composture is much less controlled than it was before. What…what happened to him?

And then you approach his cell. He’s got cuts everywhere, specifically the gash on his face. You instantly feel the need to run away, to get this image out of your mind. He was thin, his face was significantly more gaunt than it had been the last time you had seen him. And the most unsettling thing was how he was kept. Both arms were harshly chained to the ceiling and the wall. The chains were wrapped around his arms several times (you would assume most likely to stop him from breaking free), and they cut deeply into his arm. Then his body was also tightly bound to a chair, and his legs were bound to the chair’s legs. His body you noticed, was bound so tightly to the chair, you wonder how he still managed to breathe. Still, nothing would be as unnerving as to look at as his eyes. They were not dull per say, but they were empty. Not in the hopeless kind of way, but in the tormented sense that he had been tortured so badly that it would be unlikely he ever saw the light of day again.

Truly, he was a lost cause. You could only describe him as tortured and traumatized, as you couldn’t glance at him a second time.

“Hey. You done oogling yet?” His voice came out as almost an aggressive snarl, and you instantly look away. “Look at me.” You do your best to look at him, while trying to avoid looking at any part of his face in particular. You didn’t want to see it. Truly, you don’t want to look at him in any way whatsoever. So you settle on looking at a corner of his hair. The only thing that was still familiar to you.

“I said look at me. In the eyes.”

You don’t want to.

Chuuya sighs. “I know I probably look terrible right now, but please. Just do it. For the sake of me. Just look me in the eyes. It’ll probably be the last time I see someone for a long time.” He draws that last sentence out for longer than you expect, and you start to feel uneasy again, but you try to ignore that and ask him the question. The question you had been dying to ask for an undefined amount of time.

It’s a second before you can really bring yourself to ask it. “Chuuya. Where are my memories?” your mouth tightens… “Who am I? Why did you… do this?” You take a deep breath, to stop yourself. “Just tell me. Please.”

There’s another stretched-out pause before Chuuya responds again. “I knocked you out.”

“You… you what? N-no… you’re kidding right?” Your voice wavers slightly, before seeing Chuuya’s face again. He’s dead serious. “Why would you do this?”

“You were in danger. I couldn’t help it, alright?” He yelled, and you flinch. He takes a deep breath in again, slightly more calm, and continues. “Let me explain.”

“You were part of the Port Mafia, (Y/N). In fact, you, me, and Dazai used to be assigned to the same team all the time. Of course, it was always despicable working with Dazai. He never told us about anything, instead only telling us what to do, while he schemed about whatever he damn chose.”

“You can’t be serious…”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Do you think I’m joking right now? That I’m making a story and pulling it out of thin air for fun? You wanted answers. I’m giving them to you right now.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Chuuya ignores you and goes on. “Out of the three of us, you were always the weakest one, without a strong ability, nor any supportive abilities, however, we always had to drag you along anyways. To every mission gaven to us. Dazai would always make a plan, and we’d have to follow through. And if any of us ever messed up, we’d always get into trouble.”

“I bet you wanted to know how you got that bruise on your arm, that’s never healed, huh? Well, it’s cause you messed up one of the missions, and one of the higher-ups broke your arm. It never completely healed, and it was a warning that you should never mess up again.”

You look at your arm, where the ugly purple bruise marred your skin. It had never healed, and you couldn’t do anything heavy with it. Although it made a lot more sense than the reasoning you were told, you found this all too unreal. There was no way you were a mafia member. You were always weak. There would have been no reason for you to join. But even past the static buzzing in your brain, you could make out everything he said feeling familiar. As if your memories were just behind a wall you couldn’t break through.

“Still, I wasn’t able to do anything at the time, and Dazai didn’t care too much for you. The damned bastard treated everything and everyone like a chess piece, and played them as he wished. You were constantly treated as the runt of the three of us, and often used as the punching bag when missions weren’t successful. But, over time, you managed to become more ‘competent’ and not ‘drag us back’.”

“Of course, that all was, until the Dragon Head incident. All you need to know was that it was a bloody fight, and most of us were sent to deal with it.”

“As always, we were sent to deal with the mess. Dazai and I were obviously vanguards during the entire ordeal, and you were backup. When we had found the person behind it all, I used my own ability to kill him. We had won, but just barely.”

“You had managed to find the location of the man first, but you didn’t notify us. This person later told us that you actually refused to tell us. Ultimately, you botched Dazai’s plan, and almost destroyed an entire city, because you didn’t follow his instructions. Of course, Dazai was disappointed, even if he didn’t say anything. He essentially dismissed you, and planned to go back, and remove you from the Port Mafia. But, I didn’t want that.”

“So after a very long fight with Dazai, I managed to make a compromise with him. You would not be killed for betraying the Port Mafia, however, you wouldn’t be allowed to go back. But if I told you this, you would have rather accepted death, since the Port Mafia is the only thing you have ever known. You couldn’t go into the real world since you have no identity there.”

“So later that night, while you had looked like you were at least, partially asleep. I had no choice… but to give you severe head trauma, which would make you lose all your memories.”

There’s an unspoken silence between the two of you. You had always been told that your head was fragile. When you tried to think about your childhood or teenage years, your head would fill with static and it would hurt. Never had you ever expected it to be… this…

“You must be shocked. You probably think I’m not being serious, or that I’m joking. Well, I’m not done yet.”

“You were in a coma for years after that. For about two or three years, if I remember correctly. I had to make sure that you wouldn’t remember anything, so I bashed your head, pretty hard against the concrete. I brought you to the hospital after that, and told them that you had been injured badly, because you had attempted suicide. A balatant lie, but I couldn’t tell the doctors any more than that, otherwise I would have been detained.”

“For several years, you stayed in the hospital, completely unconscious. I’d visit you everyday, and see if you would wake up. At one point I had considered just giving up. But eventually, you did wake up. But, you didn’t have an identity in the real world, let alone education, or anything that would let you survive. When you were discharged, I paid a company to forge you a fake identity, which is what you live by now.”

“I’ve watched over you for so long, (Y/N). You once asked me what you needed to be protected from. I didn’t answer that question because I didn’t think it was the right time to let you know the truth. Alas, you’ve come searching for the truth yourself. The Port Mafia was after you for a long time. I had to constantly monitor you, you were constantly on my mind every day. And even when you were discharged from the hospital, I still had to watch over you while you slept. They wanted to kill you. I didn’t want you dead, in fact how could I?” Chuuya laughs in bitterness. “I loved you for a long time. I did all of this to make sure I’d be able to see you happy, for once. And you were. You moved into society rather nicely. You were simply not meant to be part of the Mafia, despite the potential in your ability.”

“You have the gun I left on my desk, didn’t you? You knew you had to take it because you might have been in danger.”

“Chuuya… stop.” You’re still in shock, but you know you’ll never properly remember any of your memories now. You can only trust him. Whatever he says, you have to believe. He’s not lying. He never was lying.

“That was Dazai’s gun. The gun he left before he killed himself.”

“No… please. Stop. Chuuya. Don’t do this please…”

He chuckles. “I have no merit in my future, I am simply left to rot and die here. You wouldn’t understand, (Y/N). I spent so much time in my life for you, that it would have been simpler to just kill you. But I can’t do that.”

“But in a life where you don’t return any of that to me isn’t worth living either…”

“CHUUYA,” you scream. “Stop this. Don’t…”

“So shoot me please. I know you’re dying to do it. You brought the gun with you, you wanted to kill me. I know you do. Why? You’ve reached into your pockets serveral times while I was telling your past. My life is hopeless, completely doomed. I’ve lost everything I once had, except for you. And I can’t even see you now.”

“So kill me. Put me out of my own misery.”

He smiles, in a twisted sort of way, expecting you to shoot.

“You won’t regret it.”

And it’s true. You were planning on killing him, but you don’t want to now. But if what he said was true, you were also ruthless as he was. You had to make a choice, quickly.

Your hands move faster than your mind, and you can’t stop yourself.

You shoot once. Once at his chest.

You can’t bear to see what you did.

But you also can’t see control what you were going to do next. You hear another gunshot being fired, and you weren’t if it was from yourself, or maybe someone else in the floor.

Your vision stops and you feel yourself falling to the ground.

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thana-topsy · 6 months

Text

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @mongoose-bite ! Thanks so much, crunchy. :)

I'm tagging whoever else wants to chime in! I lose track of who all on here I should be tagging lol. Or who might actually want to participate in such a thing.

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How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 643,096 words Mostly written within the last 5 years!

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Breathing Water - My flagship fic for the longest time. It still holds up 4 years later! And I'm still simping for Neloth.

Halfway to the Sky - Coming in with only about 30 kudos less than BW, I'm always tickled and humbled and just so honored that so many people like this story.

The Shadow Over Solstheim - This one had the most kudos for the longest time just because it's my oldest multi-chapter fic. Baby's first foray into something more than a smutty one-shot! My writing is unpolished and my lore knowledge is amateurish at best, but it's just so full of verve.

Hollow Men - A fic I honestly didn't expect many people to read due to the subject matter, but one that's near and dear to my heart.

Invictus - The bonkers, off-the-rails sequel to Shadow Over Solstheim in which Topsy discovers TES Lore in real time as they write. I don't think I could ever write something this free again even if I wanted to. I'm too burdened by knowledge (much like Teldryn).

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to almost every comment, but sometimes I get stuck with Comment Paralysis and they just pile up in my inbox until I'm thoroughly overwhelmed. I read every single comment and blush and kick my feet excitedly, though.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm... I don't really do angsty endings. I like pleasant, contented endings, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes open-ended. But I guess Dreamers, my Hadvar/Ralof fic as it currently stands, has the angstiest ending. At least until I manage to finish the final chapter...

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Uhhhh... They're all pretty happy, from my perspective at least. Maybe Finding Mara takes home the gold for happiest ending. (Erandur takes home the gold, too -snerk-)

7. Do you write crossovers?

I have written exactly one crossover and it's the oldest fic on my AO3 (from 2014). Otherwise, they're fun to think about, but nah. Not really.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

If you count an entire series of callout posts, years of harassment, and people jumping to conclusions over a fic they never even read, then the answer is yes.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. All kinds, but generally smut with a purpose. "Porn with plot" as they say. I write smut that zooms into the characters' heads, prys open their wants and desires and fears and insecurities. I write smut that can get a little hyper-realistic, to the point of sometimes being kind of gross. I write smut as a form of raw expression, people at their most vulnerable, literally stripped bare. It's one of my favorite things to write because it is an endless exercise in character study, in boundaries, in what it means to consent, and how the lines between who we think we are and what others perceive us to be get so easily blurred.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, they've gotten away with it.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, once! Someone asked if they could translate the first chapter of Halfway to the Sky into Russian.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, back when I first joined the TES fandom. Two of my fandom bests at the time co-wrote a couple of stories with me. One is posted to AO3 (Ceasefire), and the other was a horny, whirlwind, feverdream of a fic that the other author and I mutually agreed we would probably never share with the greater world lol. We are still bests to this day and I often revisit that fic in awe and bafflement of our energy.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

It's so tough to choose, honestly, but I gotta go with Neloth/Teldryn, because it just took me by surprise and spun out into something so wild and wonderful.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I never say never with my WIPs. If I've learned anything over the past 5 years in this fandom, it's that I'll pick an old WIP up on a whim. I do wanna get back to my Arvel the Swift WIP at some point. I also started working on a Dark Brotherhood-centric fic last year, too. And so help me Talos I am going to finish Dreamers.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. People talk in my head and I just write it down. It usually ends up sounding pretty natural. And pacing. I feel like I manage pacing pretty well and can make good calls as to when a scene is dragging or we need to skip forward in time a bit.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Wordiness. Relying too much on "feeling" words. Telling instead of showing more than I need to. Repetitive sentence structure. My goal in 2024 is to become more direct and succinct with my writing style.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Eh... I've done it before. I threw in a lot of Dunmeris and Ta'agra back in the day when I was first writing TES fic, but I'd say just use italics and translate what's being said. Or, alternatively, if the POV character can't understand what's being said, don't even use dialogue, just mention that it's being spoken. It's all gobbledygook to them anyways.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Yu Yu Hakusho (in 2004)

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I'm monogamous with my fandom currently, so I'd really love to write something with Cicero, because it's been a long time coming.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

That's really hard to choose. They're all my favorite when I'm writing them. Each fic is its own little relationship for me. I don't write things unless I'm absolutely in love with what I'm writing. So they're all my favorite, in that sense.

#fic writer interview #fanfiction

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brianwashere · 11 months

Note

if your requests are open, could i have benrey with a s/o who's also part of the science team ? i love your writing and thank you !

Uhhhhh YURRRRRRRR. Benrey Benrey Benrey. Love that little freak (affectionate). I wanna put him under a microscope and study him.

Alrighty I did HCs bcc it just felt right and I wanna work through my inbox.

You uhhhh need a player 2?

-you first met bcc you were a scientist and when you checked in he asked for your passport.

-you were confused, but luckily you got the company email so you had your passport on you

-xe was immediately enamored by you

-less in a “man I love him” and more of a “man he remembered his passport. I should give him my PlayStation tag.”

-so it nervously asked for your PlayStation tag

-you had to explain you were an x box user

-he nearly considered losing interest in you then and there.

-anyway

-you’re good buddies with Gordon, you’ve even met Joshua

-so when you and Benrey start dating he’s pretty off put

-he expressed his concern to you but he never even brings up breaking up with Benrey bcc it’s your life and obviously Benrey makes you happy

-even if they’re very very weird

-Coomer and Bubby knew from the beginning that Benrey liked you—he didn’t tell them—they just knew

-they just watched it happen and said not too subtle things

-“oh young love, don’t you remember those times, Bubby?” “I can’t even remember what I ate last night.”

-Tommy was very similar

-“oh look at that, Benrey’s sweet voice is red and pink around you! Red to pink means ‘I think you’re pretty neat!’ :DD”

-even Sunkist knew what was up

-before you got together he’d catch you as you walked into black mesa and say “I don’t think you uhhhh now where you’re going there, pal.” And he’d walk you around black mesa, purposely misleading you so they got to spend more time with you

-when you do get together it’s probably a very awkward and confusing confession

-Benrey’s like “so uh…I need a player two”

-“Benrey, I already told you I have an x box…”

-eventually you two get there though

-Benrey constantly uses sweet voice around/on you (if you’re ok with it, obviously)

-it’s xer love language

-when you first see him in a form that’s not his human-ish one you’re obviously alarmed but after the initial shock you’re very curious

-you are a scientist after all

-it actually makes xem feel really good about themselves

-it is startling to wake up in the middle of the night and see some humanoid figure in the top corner of your room with 30 fluorescent eyes all staring at you

-“you alright, babe?”

-“hm? Oh, yeah. Just watchin you..”

-you figured out they actually don’t sleep

-all in all it loves you to Xen and back

#benrey x reader #Benrey x male reader #hlvrai benrey #hlvrai x reader #hlvrai x male reader #science team #fanfic #fanfic writing #science team reader #science team x male reader #male reader #benrey hlvrai #benrey

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onomatopiya · 11 months

Text

writer tag game!

hiiii thank you @avi-why for tagging me this game seems so fun :D

1. is there a common piece of writing advice that you disagree with? alternatively, is there one you think (generally) most people should follow?

oooooh okay! generally i dislike any hard absolutes like "don't use adverbs ever" because i mean. no piece of advice like that will ever be universal and it's important to consider what Your Piece of writing needs rather than trying to fit a set of ~arbitrary guidelines~

as for advice i think works, i think consistency in writing will always be key to improvement. i like. very heavily stagnated in actual writing after covid (i was like. good lord i was 15 then. wild) because i got bogged down trying to make my book Perfect. and i think if i had actually written more during that time i would be a much better writer now! more writing = more improvement and practice makes pretty damn close to perfect etc etc

2. you can have dinner with any author, living or dead. but the catch is that after the dinner, you and that author will team up against a third writer in a no holds barred cage match throwdown. which 2 authors do you pick?

OOOOH ok. i'm currently very enamored with andrew joseph white and lee mandelo's writing because they both write GORGEOUS prose so maybe one of them? OOO or r.f. kuang . i think tolstoy should get got in the cage match. cry old man

3. have you ever experimented with poetry, plays, or screenwriting? what was the result?

YES i have and now i have a web series. help girl this was not supposed to be longer than a short fiction piece and yet. also shameless self plug you can read my web series about a dead girl haunting her own narrative HERE: https://gloryburning.substack.com/

i do want to experiment more with poetry though!!! that's one medium i haven't really dipped my toes into so to speak

4. what type of rancid twitter discourse would your current wip generate?

oh god what discourse WOULDN'T rr spark. i definitely think having an aroace mc weaponize someone else's attraction to him is probably um. discourse worthy. my top fear is that someone unironically ships lahar (romance and sex repulsed aroace) with anthony (horrible white savior who has no semblance of self) some other notable things that happen in the book:

diversity loss the capitalist kendall roy ass character (anthony) is gay

people of color get to KILL

ruh roh! tragedy :(

horrible horrible body augmentations with dangerous and ableist implications

so much murder. so much assassination. god bless

5. what author would you love to be compared to? what author would you hate to be compared to?

OOOOOOH . uhhhh i love so many authors oh god. i do love neil gaiman i would be so floored if someone compared me to that guy. OH and terry pratchett . probably would not want to be compared to like. jkr. booooo

6. design the ideal piece of merch/swag for your wip.

oh this one is so me bait. i have serious merch and then deeply unserious merch

7. free space: what's one thing you really want to talk about in your writing that no one ever asks about?

I LOVE soulmate horror and just. idk taking different concepts and hitting them with my aroace beam. i love aroace horror i love aroace people. and i think there should be more weird aspec fiction

and question time. putting them below the cut along with tags

what's the first story you can remember writing? how does it compare to the way your writing has evolved? where do you see your writing going in the future?

what parts of yourself (if any) have gone into your current wip? alternatively, how would you fare if you were suddenly dropped into your own wip?

what's one quality of your writing that feels completely unique? what's one thing you want to improve upon in the future?

make or share a meme that you feel captures the essence of your wip.

what are your goals as a writer? do you want to publish? is your writing for your eyes only?

which of your characters is your favorite to write and why?

free space: feel free to be self indulgent--do you have any aus or your wips? if so, what, and if not, what aus/fanfic would you write of your work?

tagging: @macywrites, @cream-and-tea, @saltwaterbells, @coffeeandcalligraphy, @wren-is-writing, @encrucijada, @snowinks, @chayscribbles, @cuntylittlesalmon, and anyone else who wants to do this

#writeblr #tag game #writblr

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grudge-core · 10 months

Text

Checkmate

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

tag: Brutal, betrayal, mafia

tropes: angst, enemies to enemies. pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader A/N's note: so it's my first time writing fan fiction on Tumblr feels kinda weird. but I tried my best summary: Jungkook is the heir to a mafia empire, the most notorious in the whole of Seoul. You are an undercover rookie sent in to infiltrate your select team and bring the empire crumbling down.

part 1/ part 2/part 3

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"I have a mission for you." Kim Namjoon says while looking at the screen on the table. "You will see and do things that no one should ever see." he explained "Don't let that shit get to you" he looked up from the screen staring at me with a cold brown gaze.

"Who's the target, sir?" I asked with a firm and confident voice. He turned his screen around and showed me a picture of a man "The boy, Jeon Jungkook". The boy looked completely innocent but then again I should be careful with his tactics. "The heir of Jeon Jung-Hyung, Soon to be the King of the mafia empire." he looked at me as I fixed my glasses "The allegations of his crimes are drug dealing, murder, illegal importation of guns and vice versa." Namjoon said "His side-kicks, Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Jeon's mother passed away when he was very young, two or three years? She was murdered by her relatives. Her death made him like this" he sighed "but remember you're job is to work logically not emotionally" then there was a knock on the door "Come in" Namjoon said with a loud voice. in came my senior Jung Hoseok, he gave me a little smile which I gladly returned. Hoseok gave a file to Namjoon "Sir, here is all the information we could find about Jeon Jung Hyung and his son" "Thank you, Lieutenant Jung, you may leave" Namjoon opened the file and looked through it. "L/N you may go now," he said without looking "Yes sir" I was about to leave when "Y/N, I trust you" he looked at me with a little concern in his brown eyes. "Thank you sir for trusting me, I'll do my best to get a hand on him" I reassured him and exited his office.

I sat down with a sigh leaving my lips. I looked at the time. it was almost lunch time, I'm not hungry but I also not full so I continued to do my work on the Jeon case. After a while Hoseok Hyung came behind me "hey y/n, I'm hungry u wanna come with for some Tteokbokki and gimbap? drinks on me." He smiled. "uhhhhh....sure, I need a break anyways" I smiled back at him.

"So how are you gonna handle the Jeon case" he said while taking a bite from his Tteokbokki "I'm still thinking..." I took a sip from my drink. Well if you ever need a good detective one of my friend is best in the town" he said while chewing "first chew your food or else you'll choke" I said while stirring my Tteokbokki, Hyung swallows his food and says "His name is Kim Seokjin, he's a detective for 6 whole years so he is pretty experienced and you know what he's handsome too" he whispered the last part. "I'll talk to him, give me his number and address" I took a bite from my gimbap. he threw a smirk at me and i obviously know what that means. "don't you even dare Hyung, I'm not gonna talk to him because he's handsome alright?" I shook my head.

I plopped on bed closing my eyes for a bit then suddenly my phone rings. I took my phone from the dressing table and looked at the caller id. Kim Namjoon. I picked up the call "yes sir" I said with my usual firm voice "y/n can you meet me at the fountain, please I need to talk to you about the case" meet? at this hour? "sir but isn't it too late?" i said with a frown on my face "uhhhh...okay?" I get up from the bed "and make sure to take the ally ways" ally ways? Everyone know that ally ways are not safe at night, then why the heck is telling me to take the ally ways? "sure sir" I took out a pocket knife and my gun and also some bullets. you never know what will happened next.

(I'll probably make many parts of this series so stay tuned!)

#BTS #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #jung hoseok #mafia au #jungkook x reader #enemies to enemies

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andromedadoesntwrite · 8 months

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Twenty Questions: Fic Author Edition

Thank you @bodyelectric77 for tagging me! I always love participating in these fun things. I am quite new to fanfic though (two months more or less) so I'll do my best to answer as much as I can <3

1-How many works do you have on ao3?

2-What's your total AO3 word count?

23,538 words

3-What fandoms do you write for?

The Hunger Games. But I'm not closed to maybe writing for others.

4-What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Cold Coffee

Fated From The Start

I've only published two atm :)

5-Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yesyesyesyes

I absolutely love comments. No matter how long they are I appreciate them so much. To know that people read my stuff AND that they like it AND wanna let me know, it completely makes my day. So I try to answer all of them, even if its just to say thank you. I especially love when the commenter references a specific part of the fic that they liked or made them laugh. It hits a spot.

6-What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

uhhhh.

at the moment I don't have any out. None of my fics have ended lmao. But something may or may not be in the works. Idk, not sure yet.

7-What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

once again, none of my fics have ended but I think Fated From The Start's will be the happiest.

8-Do you get hate on fics?

No at the moment, no. But if I keep writing its possible I will. But we'll cross that bridge when it comes to it.

9-Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Nope. Not really my strong suit or focus when writing. I've written a few suggestive scenes but nothing too intense or graphic. It's very difficult to write good smut so kudos to all writers who do.

10-Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11-Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No and hoping it stays that way lmao

12-Have you ever had a fic translated?

13-Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

14-What's your all-time favorite ship?

Honestly Everlark. I really like both characters individually and think they're ship is pretty fitting. But if you had asked 12 year old me, she would've said Marshal lee from Adventure Time and me.

15-What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

There's a piece about Katniss not liking Peeta back till they were much older and both married sitting in my drafts buuuut I don't think I'll ever get to finishing it.

16-What are your writing strengths?

I actually don't know lmao. At least I'm not sure when it comes to fics. But I've been told I'm good at evoking emotion when it comes to sadness in other pieces I've written. I guess I still have to develop them.

17-What are your writing weaknesses?

I can get impatient quickly, leading me to sometimes not expand on something at first and just quickly writing it out. It sucks. And in the end slows me down even more. Since I have to come back and write things over. So a lot of times my descriptions fall short. It cringes me out when I read something back that I wrote in a hurry.

18-Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I would love to. I'm actually trilingual but Spanish is my first language so I'd love to write a fic in it. I think some things are just better written in Spanish, at least for me. Maybe one day I'll include it in one of the fics.

19-First fandom you wrote for?

The Hunger Games

20-Favorite fic you've ever written?

Fated From The Start! It's the one I spend more time in.

This was super fun and I'm tagging @thelettersfromnoone should they choose to do it, and anyone else who sees this since the rest of my mutuals have been tagged <3

#everlark #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #ao3 fanfic #tag game

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mell0bee · 3 months

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tagged by @candiedjellybean thank u dude!!! im p sure ive done this tag sometime last year so will be interesting to see if my answers have changed

Are you named after anyone? unfortunately, st. brigid of ireland, but also apparently it's a name thats been in my dad's side of the family too? either way my parents knew of the name due to irish catholic reasons. yipee! though im cool with it bc st. brigid used to be the goddess brigid from irish myth, and also both of them were badasses <3

When was the last time you cried? .....genuinely i think the last time i cried was in like. early march when i watched the holdovers? i think? taking a break from college has greatly decreased the frequency at which i cry lmao

Do you have kids? no sir

Do you use sarcasm a lot? i guess yes? probably about as much as the average person (this is not sarcasm)

What sports do you play? i do not play any currently (though i probs should. i am built like a twig and a strong wind will knock me over.) but as a kid i used to play soccer which i hated and was god awful at and softball which i liked more but i was also god awful at and mostly spent my time hitting foul balls and playing with the grass in right field. but it was fun!

What’s the first thing you notice about people? uhhhhhh. uh?????? if they're wearing a cool outfit or have cool hair or smth? idk man. i guess i dont rlly think abt it?

What’s your eye color? brown

Scary movies or happy endings? uh. both? am p sure my tolerance for horror is a lot higher than most people and im always down for a tragedy but i also like happy endings too. though from a writing perspective happy endings are significantly easier to pull off than sad ones (& more common. hero's journey and all that).

Any special talents? uhhhhh im double jointed in my thumbs. also i can put my foot behind my head. is that a talent? im also working on my sudoku time, i think my lowest time for master difficulty is around 6 mins 30 seconds? which is uh. above average?? i think???

Where were you born? idk apparently they cloned me in a lab somewhere

What are your hobbies? lately playing a lot of video games, writing (mostly fanfic), art stuff (mostly drawing but am learning how to use watercolor), uhhhh.... ttrpgs but i havent gotten to play in a while sadly

Do you have any pets? dog!!!!!

How tall are you? 5'3

Favourite subject in school? science

Dream job? ahahahah funny you should ask that, i say, having been doubting my choices in career aspirations and my post-undergrad 5-year plan that i've had since high school for the past 7 months, (please send help. but. for a serious answer. i think i still want to do science research? just maybe in a softer science like psych even tho my undergrad is bio & neuro???? idk. unsure.)

tagging uhhhhhhh candiedjellybean already tagged most of the ppl i usually tag sooo @halflingkima ? i think i tagged u last time too lol. & anyone else who wants to do this!!!

#bee post #lmao sorry for the lore dump for the name question i could talk on and on about the christianization of irish pagan gods #also st bridgid was probs partially inspired by st lucy and st lucy is also really cool.#i may be excath but they rlly did go hard with the stories of women associated with fire gouging their own eyes out <3 #anyways. lmao. enough completely unprompted catholic saint lore. i unfortunately know way too much about this subject. keep scrolling.

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chrisbitchtree · 2 years

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The One with the Cute Barista and the Gross Drink

Harringrove Harvest Day 5

Prompt - Pumpkin Spice Latte

1.5k-G

***

It had started with a dare from Robin. They’d started the stupid little game to pass the time at the cheese shop that they both worked at. They took turns daring each other to do things like tell every customer that came into the store that they liked their eyebrows, or to wear their apron backwards until someone said something about it. Nothing harmful, just a way to get a laugh during the long, quiet hours.

One afternoon, the shop was completely devoid of customers, so it was decided that Robin could continue to work on the cheese board she was putting together, and man the cash if anyone came in, so that Steve could run and get them coffee at the Starbucks across the street.

“Can you get me one of those cake pops?” Robin asked, as she fished a $20 from her purse and handed it to him. “And I have a dare for you! You have to ask the barista what they recommend, and whatever it is, whether you like it or not, you have to order it.”

“Ugh, I just wanted to get a cold brew,” Steve pouted. “And isn’t it my turn to dare you?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

“Nope,” Robin replied, shaking her head. “Yesterday, you dared me to sing that customer’s total to him, remember?”

Steve chucked. Oh yeah, that had been a funny one. Robin was bright red by the time the pretty brunette girl had left the shop with her blocks of cheddar and Havarti.

“Fine,” Steve sighed, marching out of the shop. At least he wouldn’t have to pay for his shitty beverage, he thought as he pocketed Robin’s money. Thank goodness for small favours.

As he walked into the shop, he was so focused on trying to decide if he could get away with stirring salt into Robin’s drink and blaming it on Starbucks that he didn’t even notice the beautiful barista standing behind the counter until he was face-to-face with the gorgeous blond. He must have been a new hire, because he would have remembered that beautiful, blinding smile if he’d seen it before, even in passing.

“What can I get you, pretty boy?” he asked, leaning into Steve’s space.

“I’ll take a caramel ribbon crunch Frappuccino and a birthday cake pop, and what do you recommend?”

Uhhhh, how about a pumpkin spice latte? Customers have been ordering them all day long, so they must be half decent.”

Steve unfortunately knew from experience that they were just about the worst thing he’d ever drank, but even though Robin would never know, he was going to stick with the dare, plus, if a guy this hot told him to jump off a bridge, Steve would probably do it.

“Ok, one grande pumpkin spice latte, thanks.”

“Coming right up, doll,” the man, whose name tag announced was named Billy, replied, winking at Steve.

It made Steve feel a little weak in the knees. It felt like it had been forever since anyone had flirted with him, and honestly, it felt really good to feel wanted like this.

Steve and Billy exchanged a few more flirty comments, then Steve left the shop, figuring he should get back, in case any customers had come in. As he exited the shop, he turned back to take one more look at Billy and found him staring back. He gave Steve a small wave, and with that, Steve was off.

“I think I’m in love, Robin,” Steve said, between gulps of his drink. Pumpkin spice lattes really were disgusting, but to fulfil the dare, he had to finish it.

“With who?” She asked, rushing to the window of the shop and straining to see into the coffee shop.

“The barista,” Steve replied, pulling Robin away from the window. “I think he’s new. I don’t recognize him.”

“Well,” Robin said, grabbing her drink and humming happily as the first burst of sugar hit her tongue, “the dare was worth it, wasn’t it?”

***

That had been late August. Steve had spent the next month visiting the coffee shop at any opportunity, chatting with Billy until the blonde’s manager started to glare at the two of them. Unfortunately for Steve, Billy had proudly announced that he remembered his order from the first time they met, and he kept making Steve pumpkin spice lattes.

Of course, Steve didn’t have the heart to tell Billy about the dare, so he kept drinking them, saving his beloved cold brews for when Billy wasn’t working. Through talking with Billy, he’d found that the other man wasn’t just hot, he was ridiculously smart, funny, and sweet, and Steve found that he’d drink any number of pumpkin spice lattes if it meant that he got to talk to Billy.

Thankfully, Steve’s perseverance paid off when about two weeks ago, he’d gone into the Starbucks and did his usual flirting with Billy, who handed Steve his usual PSL, only this time there was something besides Steve’s name on the cup. Written in black marker was Billy 555-1177 Call Me.

Steve walked across the street to the cheese shop, a grin on his face, shoving the cup in front of Robin for her inspection the second the customer she was serving left.

“Thank fuck!” She cried, excitement on her face. “Do you know what this means? I don’t need to hear you obsessively dissect every single word Billy says to you! I’m free!”

They toasted Steve’s luck in love with their drinks and did a little happy dance behind the counter before they got back to work, Robin heading to the back to work on cheese platters, and Steve awkwardly serving the customers who had walked in just in time to see his terrible rendition of the funky chicken.

***

Steve waited what he thought was a respectable five hours to call Billy, forgoing using his last break to call the blonde, and instead waiting until the second he walked in the door after his shift.

“Hi, I’m looking to speak with a beautiful blonde barista with a shockingly gigantic brain and an incredibly perky ass?”

Billy chuckled on the other side of the line. “Who’s asking? I only answer to Bambi eyed brunettes with killer legs and great senses of humour. Do you know any of those?”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh as he took a seat in the overstuffed chair in the corner of his living room, hugging a fuzzy pillow to his chest.

The chatted for at least an hour, finding out they had more and more in common the more they talked. They’d both played t-ball and high school basketball, they were both swimmers, they’d both moved to Chicago for school, only to drop out and take some time to work and rethink what they wanted to do with their lives, they both liked comedy movies and Tom Cruise, they agreed that peanut M&Ms were best, and they both still had a soft spot for Winnie the Pooh, well past their childhood years.

Eventually, Billy said that he had to go to sleep, but not before asking Steve out for the next day. They made plans to go on a walk in the park before going for a dinner and to a movie.

“I’ll pick you up at 5, pretty boy,” Billy said.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Steve replied, before hanging up and picking back up his funky chicken from that afternoon before calling Robin to rehash the whole conversation.

***

The next afternoon, just as Steve finished rearranging his bangs and applying one last coat of cherry ChapStick, the clock struck 5, and Steve headed out to meet Billy at his car, where Billy would leave it parked while they went for a walk. He was shaking so heavily with excitement that he could barely get the key in the lock.

His excitement was dampened slightly when he stepped out of the door and noticed Billy was holding a Starbucks cup.

“I got you your favourite drink!” He said proudly, holding out the cup.

Steve couldn’t do this anymore though. It was now or never. “I really hate pumpkin spice lattes,” he quickly blurted out.

Billy had a surprised and quizzical look on his face. “Then why would you…?

“Because it was a dare. Robin dared me to go to the Starbucks and drink whatever the barista recommended. But I didn’t except to think the barista was beautiful, and then fall for him, and then want to make him happy. Then it went on for so long that I didn’t know how to tell you. I’d do almost anything for you. Except drink another one of these.”

“Anything?” Billy asked, as he unceremoniously dropped the drink into the closest garbage can.

Steve nodded.

“Then how about you kiss me?”

Steve happily obliged.

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove fic #harringrove harvest #chrisbitchtree writes

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gertsonsource · 10 months

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I’ve been directed here for answers to my questions. I looked through every post and it has just led me to even more questions.

what is going on? please I- I don’t understand

oh dear lord. i... i don't know where to begin? or how much to explain/how much i can explain? i assume you mean about gertson, specifically, given this blog's name, but... okay, like i will genuinely try, i promise, but. it's. hmmm.

okay. well. first off. hiii. it's gert. hello. hi. hello hello hi hello :)

secondly, this. uhhhh. this is gonna get. hmmm. a bit. nsfw. alright

so honestly there's no gentle way to put this. it starts with the lizard sex threesome.

it had something to do with the "gecko with pearl earring" painting, i genuinely don't remember what, i think it might have been in a voice call, which then somehow became "geckson and gackson (gecko jillson and gecko jackson)" which somehow became me, gert, personally having a torrid and passionate love affair with geckson and gackson (hence: gertson).

i made a fake ao3 doc about it (tags/summary/etc--it was very explicit lmao). geckson and gackson became my weed smoking girlfriends. somehow we relocated the threesome to under maren's bed. the joke grew. more fake ao3 docs and jokes about it. the polycule also grew to incomprehensible levels and i genuinely have lost track of who's involved at this point (the pinned post should be mostly accurate but i think there have been a few other additions not inscribed there, such as a cardboard cutout of someone, i don't remember who, that had the jeepers stache drawn on it) but i know we (me, geckson, and gackson) have married milk and schrodinger's jeepers continues to be both within and without of the polycule perimeter. we are forever pursuing maren as we are under maren's bed (threat), the mothman is our sometimes lover when he passes through, etc. we've built a whole fucking lore. it's elaborate. gertsonverse is expansive and rendered in loving detail.

that's not even getting into the adjacent cursed fucking crack ships/polycules/fake ao3 docs (the Carse, crawlings/jeepers and The Plunger, curtainfest, etc)

Some Relevant Images: (MILD NSFW WARNING)

pictured: gertson (with my old discord pfp):

you can ask for the fake ao3 doc if you want (private ask or thru discord) but i promise you it's so cursed your crops will wither upon coming within five feet of it and it's also ..... quite. nsfw

#gertson #[deep sigh] unfortunately #or gleefully #you know whichever

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friend-of-giants · 10 months

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Lines Tag Game

Tagged by @elfinismsarts to post some choice lines from my fic! I guess I will tag @mareenavee @paraparadigm @thana-topsy @boethiahspillowbook @wildhexe @archangelsunited @rhiannon1199 @rainpebble3 @snippetsrus @thequeenofthewinter @thelavenderelf and anyone else who wants to participate, consider yourself tagged! I'm pulling lines from both Into Ash and Ascent from the Ashes.

Also most of these lines are actually snippets and this got super long sorry not sorry

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

Into Ash Ch. 5 "Realizations"

“I didn’t ask for your help, but thanks,” [Wren] said, giving [Teldryn] a little smile. Her teeth were goofy and uneven, almost rabbit-like, and she rarely let them show, but Teldryn thought they were an endearing feature of her otherwise plain face.

“It was nothing, sera. Now, let’s get going before Neloth pisses himself.”

Neloth’s face contorted as if he had just smelled a fresh pile of netch dung. “What? I do not piss myself, you fools!”

A line from your fic that makes you sad

Into Ash Ch. 6 "As Hermaeus Mora Intended"

"These people you lost, who were they? If you don't want to answer, I understand."

Teldryn’s question struck like a slap to the face, though it did not hurt as much as it once would have. Time had dulled the sharpness of the pain and left only a hollow ache in its place, an ache she was trying to forget. She blinked, then fixed her eyes on an unassuming mound of snowberries at the table to gather her thoughts.

How much should she tell him, if anything? Why did he even want to know? He was only a mercenary and likely didn’t care, but something about him had changed over the last week. She felt a new sense of security with him, and had found herself speaking more openly with him since that day at Nchardak, when she had proven to him exactly who and what she was.

He had changed, and she almost felt as if she could trust him. She supposed there wasn’t much to lose by opening up a little.

"My family," Wren began after a long moment of silence. "Not the one I left behind, but…” Her attention turned from the snowberries back to Teldryn, to the light from the fire shining off his goggles. He remained quiet, the only sound around them being the crackle of the flames and the angry wind rushing against the roof.

A low, gravelly whisper broke the silence and cut her off before she could even open her mouth again. “The one you were trying to make?”

His words caught her off guard, spoken as if they were plucked straight from her own tongue. She nodded slowly, and blinked back tears that were beginning to form. “Something like that. They’re gone because of me. I’m not meant to have that kind of life, not with what I am.”

A line from your fic you're proud of

Ascent from the Ashes Ch. 7 "A World Worth Living In"

There was something about the vast Rift forests that calmed her in a way that nothing else could quite compare to. Perhaps it was the trees rising around her, white-gray trunks reaching for the skies topped with quivering clusters of leaves in every fiery shade imaginable. Or maybe the sweet scent of old, decaying leaves that covered the ground in a soft blanket, or the crisp mountain breeze that swept through to rustle them.

Far from those who hated her, who cared for her. From those who saw her but did not know her name, and from those who did not even know she existed. She was one with the wilderness, everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The forest was hers today, there to stand guard and keep a vigilant watch, to take in her secrets and let them blow away in the wind, never to be heard by anyone except the Gods.

And Dagon, of course.

A line for your fic you think could have been better

Uhhhh most of the first 3 chapters of Into Ash, honestly. I'm planning a rewrite as I had absolutely no idea what I was doing at the time of writing those chapters lol

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

I hate Rolff, alright?

Ascent from the Ashes Ch. 10 "Respite, Part 1"

“You make me sick,” Rolff snapped. “Don’t take kindly to women talking back to me, ‘specially not some disgusting gray-skin whore.” His cold, hateful eyes fell upon Teldryn once more, who was still flabbergasted that Wren was handling the situation with such a level head. Teldryn himself resisted the urge to leap down and beat him, but she was right. Rolff wasn’t worth the effort. “How much you pay for her? I'd ask for my coin back if I were you."

Wren's posture stiffened and she scooted away, putting a small gap between herself and Teldryn. "I ain't doing that anymore, now get out of here."

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

Into Ash Ch. 7 "Awakening"

Wren nodded again and turned away to head into the bedroom, whimpering softly. Teldryn tsked. "Great job, n'wah, you made her cry."

"I did not try to," Frea said, confusion showing plainly on her face. "What I said should not have hurt her."

"I don't think you hurt her. Something tells me she doesn't get thanked very often."

"Oh," remarked Frea, glancing in the direction of the bedroom, where the occasional sniffle could be heard floating out. "I thought she would be used to the praise. She has defeated Alduin, yes? I do not understand."

Teldryn got up and stretched. "You'd be surprised. People can be very ungrateful to heroes. It's a sad truth that wears you down over the years."

"We were planning a feast in the event of her safe return, but I do not want her to cry again." Frea grinned slightly. "Perhaps we can find another way to thank her."

"No," Teldryn said softly, peering around the doorway to check on the Dragonborn, who had made herself at home in the bed once again. He saw a smile on her lips, despite the tears trickling down her cheeks. "I think the feast will be fitting. Make sure there’s plenty of salmon."

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

Ascent from the Ashes, Ch. 8 "What Guides Us"

There were a thousand things to be said about [Teldryn's] relationship with the Gods and Daedra, with Azura in particular. He hummed thoughtfully and gazed back out over the waters, to the torchbugs that still flickered and danced along the shores. Most people were small and insignificant in the eyes of the Gods, just as the bugs were to men and mer.

But as the mortal races would often catch an exceptional specimen in a jar and hold it dear, so had Azura chosen Teldryn, her champion, the savior of Morrowind and all of the Dunmer people. Through all of his trials, from the shining, glorious moments to the times where the darkness had surrounded and suffocated him until he had screamed for the merciful release of death, Azura was there. She always was, and always would be.

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

Ehhhh, without being too spoilery (as the scene itself is super graphic), have this single line. Inspired by a similar line in Stephen King's Misery, which I thought might perfectly describe the feeling of having ones leg chopped off lmao

The pain was screaming, and so was she.

A line from your fic that's shocking

According to Kel, it's this scene since I'm not a fan of horse death lmao

Ascent from the Ashes Ch. 10 "Respite, Part 1"

Giving a hasty tug on his horse’s mane, he wheeled his mount around and rode hard back the way he came from. He had to make it to her before the guards did, he had to.

The pounding of the gelding’s hooves against the road and the rush of wind in his ears were the only sounds he could hear, until a sharp twang caught his attention, followed by the sickening sound of bone shattering and a squeal from his horse. The gelding staggered for a few steps before he crashed to the ground, and Teldryn was thrown from his back and tumbled to the dirt beside him.

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

I know this scene got people thinking and theorizing of what the Thing is. I want to talk more about it but i CAN'T! Not yet! Absolutely down to hear peoples guesses though!

Ascent from the Ashes Ch. 5 "Withered Away and Crumbled to Dust"

"I was cleaning up one day and found this. Thought you might want to keep it."

Wren squinted at Lydia's closed hands, and her fingers parted to reveal a piece of soft golden cloth. Upon recognizing the gift, the blood in her veins froze instantly, and it was as if something had forced the breath from her lungs and replaced it with ice. She knew exactly what this thing was and where it had come from, but she did not want to acknowledge that it was here, right here in front of her.

“W-what makes you think I want this?" Her voice was small, weak. A shadow of what it could be. Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes, and she blindly reached out, grasping at nothingness, until Lydia's hands found hers and pressed something soft into her palm.

“You need this," Lydia whispered, her voice crackling. Wren felt fingers comb through her hair and warm lips on her forehead. It did little to comfort her. “Take it. It belongs with you."

Wren clutched the piece to her chest, kneading it between her fingers. It was incredibly soft and should have been an object of comfort, but now only served to suck the life from within her.

#tag games #my writing #my fic #into ash #ascent from the ashes #wren indoran #teldryn sero #neloth #lydia #skyrim #skyrim fanfic #tes fanfic #tesblr

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