#10.ladys fanfics

[itsladyj]

in the stained glass of these whispered hopes // FFXIVWrite 2021

a collection of prompts focusing on my Warrior of Light, Jazzele Danzleikr, a Veena Viera hailing from the snowy forests of the Skatay Range. these fills primarily follow her lore and background, as well as her relationship with G'raha Tia, from their ARR beginnings to Shadowbringers and before Endwalker.

some prompts are explicit. most are angst filled and heartbreaking. every single one lingers with the traces of pure love and hope.

these still remain some of my most favorite pieces i've ever written, and i really hope you'll come to enjoy them too.

thank you for reading! and reblogs are appreciated!

Prompt 1 of 31 ♥️ START HERE ♥️

[lady-lostmind]

Bittersweet

Love is: Missing each other.

a @steddielovemonth prompt Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 891 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Steve hurries in the door, throwing his bag down and rushing to the phone, snatching it off the hook. “Eds?”

Eddie’s voice rings through the line. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

Steve sighs, slumping against the wall, heart still pounding in his chest. “Thought I was going to miss you. I got out later than I thought.” 

Eddie sighs. “You kind of did, baby. I’m sorry. I’ve been calling for like twenty minutes. We have to leave soon. I just…really wanted to hear your voice so I’ve been stalling.”

Steve feels a lump form in his throat and he tries to push back the tears welling in his eyes. “Fuck. Okay, I’m sorry. I uh– fuck.  I miss you.” 

Eddie pulls away from the phone and Steve can hear a muffled argument happening on the other end of the line, probably with one of the guys from the band. Eddie comes back, full volume, and clearly frustrated. “I miss you too, Stevie. I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll try to call tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, I lov–” Steve sighs as the dial tone rings out in his ear, and slumps against the wall. 

He hates this. Hates that he only gets to talk to Eddie for a few minutes every couple of days. Hates that every conversation is rushed. Hates that he feels anxious if he’s out of the house for too long, not knowing when Eddie might get the chance to call. 

He hates that he kind of hates the band. That he hates this tour. Because he’s thrilled for Eddie. He is. He’s so glad that he’s getting to live his dream. That the band got signed. That the tour is almost sold out. He is. Eddie deserves for all his dreams to come through. It’s just– things are moving so fast. And they were just really settling into a life together and now…

Steve just misses him. He misses him so fucking much. Misses coming home to his crazy loud music. Misses falling asleep in his arms. Misses the way he would hop up from whatever he was doing to give Steve a kiss goodbye. He misses him all the time. 

So, yes. He’s so happy for Eddie. And wants nothing more than for this to go well. He hopes he’s having the time of his life. It just also…really sucks.

–

Eddie shoves Gareth who just hung up on Steve, and tries to grab the phone back from him. “What the fuck, man. He’s going to think I hung up on him!”

Gareth rolls his eyes, holding the phone out of Eddie’s reach. “We’ve been waiting on you for like half an hour, man!”

Terry sticks his head out of the bus. “LET’S GET A FUCKING MOVE ON!”

Eddie sighs, dropping his hold on Gareth and rolling his eyes at him when he just stares at him, waiting to make sure he’s actually heading back. Eddie turns around and jogs over to the bus, hoping they make a pit stop early tomorrow before Steve heads to work. 

No one ever tells you that having all your dreams com true is going to like, kind of fuck up anything good you already had going on in your life. And Eddie had it fucking made, okay? He landed Steve Harrington. Steve motherfucking Harrington. And this tour is fucking it up. 

Sure, it’s fucking amazing. It’s everything he ever dreamed it would be. Playing to thousands of people a night, hearing them scream the lyrics to his songs back at him. Getting to do the whole rockstar thing. Which, okay. That’s maybe being a little generous still. They’re not playing sold out stadiums or anything. They’re not fucking Metallica. But like, they have fans. They’re selling out venues. Sure, small ones. But a sold out show is a fucking sold out show. And they’re making like, actual real money. Eddie can say that he is a professional musician. Because he is currently supporting himself with his music. And that shit is cool, okay. He is goddamn ecstatic about that shit. 

But he misses Steve. A lot. And he hates that he can hear the hurt in his voice every time they talk. He would never tell Eddie. But he can tell. That this is fucking killing him. And he’s not doing so hot himself. Turns out you get used to it when a pretty boy is constantly smiling at you and giving you kisses when you walk by. He’s in fucking withdrawl, okay? Plus like…he was getting laid. Like, regularly. That’s not something he ever thought he’d have. He misses snuggling up to Steve at night, their hands wandering, and getting to hear Steve’s voice turn all breathy. 

And it’s not just the sex. He misses the sex, okay? He’s only human. But he misses Steve. He misses their shitty little apartment. He misses going to pick him up from work and take him to dinner. He misses the way Steve hums in the shower. He misses when he gets all sleepy when they watch a movie on the couch, clearly dozing against Eddie’s chest but insisting that he’s still watching. He misses the way he lights up when Eddie walks in the door, going all puppy eyes and smiles. 

So, yeah. He gets to be a rockstar. But he misses his fucking boyfriend. 

[traintrainingmontage]

So the Story Goes

"Hmmm, so you want to know the true story of Lady, or as we call her, the Lady of Gold? Well, alright. I'm not in steam yet, so take a seat and listen. But I warn you, this is the oldest known version of this legend, and I'm sure that it will be quite different from what you've heard..."

The Lady of Gold is the patron saint of not just engines, but all living vehicles. The engines, the coaches, the lorries, and even that helicopter... all of us owe much to the Lady. But long before she was a saint, she was actually revered as a goddess.

Yes, ancient people, including many on this very island, worshipped her as a goddess of fire and travel. It was her flame, her lamplight, that saw weary travelers down long and winding roads, day or night, and protected them from the beasts and much worse things that stalked the darkness.

You see, dear, the Lady loves people. All humans and their creations are of great interest to her, and that's why she watches over them on their journeys, always eager to see where they go and what they will do when they get there. However, because fire is her very nature, it is best that she watch, and never touch. As a younger goddess, this bothered her so, but thanks to a certain event, the one in this legend--yes, the one I am getting to right now--she has come to accept it.

One day, a certain smith--he'd be called an engineer, now--caught her attention. He'd been devoted to her since his youth, just like his parents before him, and he made carriages. Well, the smith had recently lost his wife, and his child had left to find more work, so he was all alone. He wept bitterly for several days and nights, the ashes of his forge cold and his workbench dusty.

One night, the goddess heard his weeping. The depths of his sorrow pulled at her heart, and as she looked, she could see that this was the house of one of her faithful. Curious, the Lady descended. She crept down his chimney, igniting his forge as she settled into it, and asked him, in her sweet voice, "I greet you, dear smith. I have heard your cries from even up in the heavens. Please, my dear, whatever is the matter?"

The smith looked over in shock, and for a long moment, his great sorrow was overtaken by wonder, for his dark forge was now aflame in a golden glow so beautiful that he thought he was dreaming. "I... I..." he stammered, willing himself to speak before the one he knew to be the goddess he served. "My good Lady... my wife has left this life, and without her, I am but a wretch. I have no inspiration, no dream... I am no longer fit to be in your service!"

At this, the smith wept once more, and the Lady's heart ached. She wished that she could reach out and console him, but alas, she could not... unless.

It was at that moment that the Lady had an idea. "Oh, dear smith, your loss brings great sorrow. However, I beseech that you not retire yourself from my service just yet; instead, I would ask something of you, something that I believe you can do."

"Make for me a metal body," the Lady commanded, "one that can contain my fire, such that I may travel this world alongside you all. It has long been my fondest wish. I shall help you to the best of my ability."

The smith's interest was piqued, and for the first time since his wife had died, the desire to forge something stirred in his heart. "As you wish, oh Lady," the smith replied, his tone reverent. "I shall do whatever you ask."

Time passed, and the smith toiled away at his goddess's request. As he worked, the smith found that his heart had become light with renewed purpose. While he missed his wife still, the Lady's request reignited his passion, and he vowed that he would do her proud.

Hm? What did the Lady look like? Well... nobody knows quite what her body looked like. Some say she was shaped like a steam engine; others say she was more of a bipedal, vaguely human-like giant. However, everyone agrees that whatever shape her body actually was... she was beautiful.

The smith finished his work, and it was the best that he'd ever created. The Lady was just as pleased, and she settled happily into her new form, overjoyed at the thought of finally being able to meet the humans she'd only been able to watch from afar. She carefully moved herself from the forge into her metal body, and began to test it. To her delight, it worked just as she wished, and she and the smith soon set out on a journey to see the world. Wherever she went, gold dust would appear in her wake, serving as a blessing for all who stumbled upon the paths she treaded.

However, the good times could not last. You see, there is one more character in our story, and he is one to be wary of.

There was another man in the smith's village who loved the smith's wife. He had requested her hand in marriage, but was rejected. Despite this, he continued to watch her, always begrudging the fact that she had married the smith.

After she died, this man was also burdened by immense anger and grief. He was roaming around, trying to find an outlet for his pain, when he stumbled across the smith's workshop. Expecting it to be empty, he was instead shocked to see that the smith was creating something far beyond his ken, something... divine.

The man, overcome by anger, gave in to utter foolishness. Skulking away from the workshop, he headed for a clearing, where he called forth a demon--a demon of envy, no less. He promised it his soul if it could sabotage or destroy the smith's work, and the demon readily agreed.

Demon and fool followed the smith and the Lady as they roamed the world. While the fool attempted to gather gold dust, it only served to burn his fingers, and the demon merely laughed a terrible laugh as he continued his pursuit.

Finally, after many months of traveling, the Lady and the smith arrived at an incomparably beautiful meadow. It was lush and green, with flowers blooming everywhere the eye could see. The Lady closed her eyes, taking it all in, when suddenly, she turned to look behind her.

However, she was a step too late. A terrible claw grasped her, and crushed her against the dirt, causing the smith to stare in wide-eyed horror. Above her, the demon grinned, looking down on the Lady as the fool ran up, cackling madly.

"Man, that was too easy," the demon grinned. "Look, it's nothin' personal. But this guy wants revenge, and I wanna be a god. So, if I kill ya, he gets what he wants, and I get your divinity. It's a win-win. You get me?"

The Lady's anger was clear. The meadow was rapidly wilting beneath her as heat rolled off of her, but the demon didn't let up. Instead, its claw only clenched down harder, causing her to groan in pain as the metal began to deform. "How... how did you..."

The demon grinned its toothy smile. "You didn't think twice 'bout sealin' yourself in some moving metal box. You could never sense me while stuck in somethin' like this!" Once more, the claw clenched around her, piercing the metal. "Now... any last words?"

"Yes..." the Lady murmured, and instead of anger, there was only sorrow in her voice as she looked over at the smith, who met her gaze with one of worry and confusion. "I'm... so very sorry..."

And just like that, the Lady's mortal form burst apart, with a glorious wave of heat and light overtaking the entire meadow as her true form appeared once more.

---

"Wait, wait, wait!" 12-year-old Bethany Rushen, who had come to visit the Skarloey Railway with her grandmother, held up her hands in protest, causing the old engine to pause. "Skarloey, are you seriously telling me that Lady just... exploded?"

"That's what happened, yes," the No. 1 replied with a grin, rather enjoying the look of stupified disbelief written all over the girl's face.

"But what happened to the smith? And the fool? And... and the demon?"

"Well," Skarloey smiled sadly, "about what you'd expect. The demon didn't die, but he was terribly injured. As for the humans, they died instantly. The Lady felt so terrible about what happened that she vowed never to take mortal form again, and that she would do everything in her power to prevent such a tragedy in the future."

Bethany nodded sagely. "That makes sense. So what did she do?"

"Like I said in the beginning, she was a goddess of fire and travel. Over time, humans figured out how to make engines like me, and when they did, that's when the Lady had another idea. When vehicles are made, she gives every single one of us a spark of her divine flame. Then, she gives some of us her blessing, and that's what gives us faces and protects us and all of our passengers and crew from being hurt in accidents."

Bethany frowned, the wheels in her head turning. "But... if you all have her blessing, why do accidents even happen?"

"Remember what I said about the demon?" Skarloey replied. "As the story goes, he didn't die, but he was weakened, and he's been trying to get revenge ever since. Legend says that much of the troubles on railways and roads are his doing. A lot of trucks, and sometimes other engines and coaches, have his blessing instead of the Lady's."

"I see..." the girl hummed, shifting in place as she processed the story. "Then... what about the vehicles that don't have faces? Like your twin?"

The old engine smiled, happy that Bethany was taking such an interest in an obscure legend of the railway. "They just decided that they didn't want the Lady's blessing. After all, it's a lot of responsibility. Having her blessing means that... well, certain things take notice of you."

"Like the demon," Bethany whispered.

"Yes, like the demon," Skarloey echoed gravely. "Some engines prefer to not call the demon's attention, along with the attention of... other things, to themselves and their railways. Other engines would rather accept the Lady's blessing and be strong enough to protect people themselves, come what may."

"Wooooooow..." Bethany murmured, clearly impressed. "But... wait. Isn't the Lady of Gold a saint? She's the patron saint of all of Sodor's railways, right? How did that happen?"

Skarloey made a huffing noise, like he was trying to find the right words. "After the events in the legend, the church declared that the Lady wasn't actually a goddess at all, but a Saint. Over time, though, they decided that they weren't sure about her sainthood and took her off the official feast day calendar. However, Sodor and much of the rest of the UK still celebrate her, and on her Feast Day, it's said that you can find gold dust on the tracks as proof that she still watches over the humans and their creations."

Bethany squinted her eyes and pursed her lips together, seemingly displeased. "Well, that's dumb! Goddess or Saint, she's still super cool, and I'm glad we celebrate her anyway."

Suddenly, her expression shifted from annoyance to a more thoughful look. "But when you said that her story was different from what they showed in the movie, you really meant it, huh? I can't believe how much of her story they got wrong!"

Skarloey simply laughed in response. "Well, you're a smart girl. I'm sure you understand why they wouldn't want to show children a movie where one of the main characters blows up and people die in the end."

His young listener sighed in resignation, kicking her feet as she stood up from her seat. "No, I guess not." She then looked up at the old engine, a smile spreading across her face. "But thanks for telling me the real story, Skarloey. I'll be sure to remember it!"

The crimson engine grinned and winked at her. "As you should! It's thanks to her that we can all do what we do!"

As Bethany waved good-bye and headed off to find her grandmother, who was no doubt catching up with the now-retired Refreshment Lady and her own granddaughter, Skarloey hummed comfortably and waited for his turn to be steamed up. "It's a good story," he mused, "even if there's a lot that I left out about the Lady. That said..."

"I'll save my tales of the fey for another time."

[aberooski]

An excerpt from a future chapter of Your Princeton Is In Another Castle:

- Chazz

[brick-boats]

So now that it’s been about a week since the release, I’d like to go on a spiel of the different aspects and headcannons of my script.

**Spoiler Warning**

A THREAD

So my main goal for this project was to rewrite all the scenes in chronological order. The way the original movie was plotted had different time jumps all over the place, which was confusing to follow. My aim was to make a story flow smoothly from start to finish.

Second main goal was to expand on all the characters, especially reintroducing P.T. Boomer. The humans needed just as much of a bad guy as the engines did with Diesel 10. Not only did I give the engines more screen time -for a movie about Thomas-, but for the humans too.

That being said, I found a lot of the human characters in the original movie were just so muddled and boring. And when watching/reading the director’s cut they had more potential, but unfortunately Britt Allcroft gave them too much unnecessary exposition.

One that went overboard from the director’s cut was P.T. Boomer, he was shown as an excessively comical villain that was more of a joke than a threat. That however gave me the inspiration to make him the original Schemer from Shining Time Station. A name which he hates.

Burnett Stone was also a greatly wasted potential. Britt only portrayed him just as a sad man, but in the director’s cut he had much more emotion and passion! I certainly gave him reasons to be sad about. He is a man broken by the loss in his life, but protective of Lily.

Lily was definitely the most interesting to write. The original & director’s cut had some lackluster writing and acting, but it gave me inspiration to portray Lily as high-functioning autistic. She is smart and clever, but easily gets emotional and overstimulated.

Patch was the most blank template of all. I portrayed him as a country boy with a heart of gold. He cares a lot about his friends and Shining Time, and after learning about Burnett’s secret of Lady, his loyalty pays off in the end.

Billy Twofeathers was a greatly missed opportunity. Not only is he wise, kind, and experienced, but he stops at nothing to protect Shining Time and the nature around him. Something very spiritual and important to his Native American heritage. A no nonsense gentle giant.

Stacy Jones was honestly one of the better written characters of the original film, despite having little screen time. She also cares deeply for Shining Time, and loves to help others. I gave her some more moments being a helpful guardian to her friends.

Mutt…oh Mutt… I don’t know why Britt was trying to force a magical sentient dog trying to change fate for Shining Time by “making Lily to get on the wrong train” or “being at the right places at the right times”. In my story he’s just a dog. A good boi. Simple as.

===

Now for the engines! Thomas and his friends deserved a lot more spotlight. Britt did ultimately make the right decision by including just the core 6, minus Edward. The director’s cut honestly did not have a good place for Edward plot wise. It’s sad but it was for the best.

I -did- however give Edward a small roll at the start and very end of the script. I do headcannon he took Sir Topham Hatt and Lady Hatt off to the mainland for holiday. Another small cameo is George the Steamroller near the end with Diesel 10, just a little nod. ;)

Unfortunately, like Edward’s original role, I couldn’t find a way to include Duck into my script. He and Edward were just there in the director’s cut to overly-explain to the audience what was going on in a toddler-esque way.

In the director’s cut Duck also clashes with George again and references the season 5 moment where George causes Duck’s truck to collide with Gordon. Which was a weird addition if TATMR was intended for audiences -outside- of the Thomas fandom, so how would they know?

Overall, George being originally written as a tertiary villain going around smashing all the buffers was just silly tbh. I axed it out in favor of his little cameo in my script. He’s tired of Diesel 10 complaining and states his hatred for railways, true to his character!

Splatter and Dodge were two wasted characters! I did them some justice by writing them as proper henchmen…Hench-diesels? They’re not completely braindead, just silly little goons. But once Diesel 10 and Boomer pair up -with intent to cause harm-, Splodge says enough!

===

And last of all, the Conductors. Goodness gracious they were the real diamonds in the rough. I had to cut a lot of nonsense out, especially the soccer ball/baseball bat moment with Mr. C… that gold dust hits hard, huh? I couldn’t even make it work in a dream scene.

Junior wasn’t as bad. I just tweaked some moments here and there to make more sense in the story. Example how he “put party poppers down Thomas’s funnel” is a moment we don’t even see on screen. I included a gag where he just puts them under Thomas’s wheels to spook him!

As for Mr. Conductor the 1st and 2nd, just some nods to George Carlin and Ringo Starr’s roles in Shining Time Station. Carlin being the grandfather and Starr being the father to Alec Baldwin’s. I know it’s not the original chronological roles but I like it better this way.

In conclusion, this whole project was the result of almost 2 months of hard work from me to the fandom. A love letter for TATMR for its nostalgia and happiness from my youth. Britt had some wild ambitions, but it just needed to be… Rerailed. ;D

Thank you for reading!

[perspicaciouspen]

making a return to fanfiction with a feral little painted blue THING. i reread “the solace of the night” by goldilocks23 and next thing i knew, we were here. please read that piece first if you somehow haven’t managed to already.

rated E—please be mindful of that.

[virq-qgo]

Wolverine x reader

Uh, yeah i know its been like two years LOL. Literately after posting my last fanfic my dog died of cancer. Got like super depressed lmao.. anyways i watched the new movie and i creamed my pants so i had to write the absolute worst fanfic ever. So like this is a warning, its been two years since ive touched my computer and my skills aren't that good anymore.

summary: going to the bar undercover with the man you hate the most had a twisted turn, not expecting to get shot or telling him your feelings.

warnings: cussing, bad writing, random character death, bad writing, not proof read, and this is really long for no reason..

You didn’t quite understand why you were being dragged along with this so called “mission”

It was just one bad dude who robbed a place, so why were you at a damn bar with the person you hate the most. Everyone was aware of this. You two couldn’t be in the same room together without an argument that almost leads to a fight. So why are you here?

So sitting on the bar stool with a glass of water in your hand, a skirt you were wearing too short and a top that left the mind to wonder. What made the whole situation worse was that your worst enemy was sitting next to you, the wolverine aka Logan Howlett.

You knew he was enjoying this by the way he was ordering shot by shot, it was disgustingly attractive the way the man could pour down the hardest liquor down his throat. Rolling your eyes, you focus back on the bartender, watching him make drinks and showing off to the drunken girlfriends or wives. Obviously ignoring the wicked glares he received from their partners sitting next to them.

“Hey, bartender.” you hear Logan call out. “I need something a little harder than this.”

“Nothing for the beautiful lady sitting next to you?” the man behind the counter smirks as he poured a drink for another customer. Totally ignoring Logan's request.

A soft polite smile sits on your face while trying to stuff down the unpleasant feeling you got from the bartender. “Only if it's on the house.”

“For you?” he smiles, “you can have whatever you like.”

Your eyes crinkle from disgust but to the bartender it was from joy. “Oh, you know how to touch a woman's heart.”

You hear Logan scoff while feeling his dark eyes on you. It’s been 10 minutes since you two have been here and you're already getting underneath his skin.

“Something wrong Logan?” you call him out, turning to face him instead of the creep you call bartender.

Logan rolls his eyes as he tosses his head back and downs his shot. “Show a little boob and wear a tiny skirt, and you get anything you want.” 

“Yeah, I would say you should try it. But you don’t have much to show..”

“Is that how you got here, getting passed around the team?”

 “Yup,” you say with a sarcastic smile on your face while pretending to count to the number 8 on your fingers. “Just gotta get into your pants and then I get my reward.”

Logan looks at you with a face of disgust not sure if you were messing with him or not. “Excuse me?”

Just as soon as you open your mouth to make a smartass comment. A sudden yell echoes across the room then the sound of wood breaking. Both you and Logan twist around to see the scene. There you see the “bad guy” you guys were supposed to be after. He had just brutally smashed someone's head into the table, successfully breaking the table in half.

“That a murder.” the words fall from your lips when you see the broken piece of the table

through the poor soul's head.

“Shut the fuck up you fucking clown. That's our guy.” Logan responded in a whisper. But when he didn't hear a snotty response he twisted his head to look at you, only to find your seat empty. Instead he saw you walking towards the scene, causing a deep growl to fall from his lips. Finding himself to chase after you.

Typically, you would leave this stuff for logan. But the guy was instantly on the run. And you didn’t really have a choice but to chase after him. “Hey excuse me!” You yell at the bad guy, instantly frowning as you see the blood cover his hands and shirt.”where do you think you're going, dude? Breaking that table and killing that poor guy? What an asshole!”

The bad guy looked at you, his brows furrowing. His body filled with rage. Who do you think he is and calling him “dude”. If you were here to stop him, then so be it. But you were just a girl, and women are weak. You were easy to dispose of. “Listen lil’ lady. I'll give you a quick death if you leave me alone.”

“I don’t think so, I need you to come with me anyways.”

The man sighs as he hears the words fall from your lips, “How annoying.” he thought.

“Hey, don’t you fucking run off on me like that.” You hear Logan say as he walks up next to you. Making you roll your eyes and turn your head to face him. 

It was so quick to happen you couldn’t even process it, the only thing that processed that very moment was the ear ringing bang that echoed through the air. Then Logan shouting your name. You remember seeing him running away, his face looking angry. It felt like you were standing there for hours, like you were zoning out. Then you remembered him, the guy you were supposed to get. But as soon as you took that first step, that's when you felt it. Burning pain spreads through your body making you want to cry out. Your hand instinctively reaches out to where you feel the pain, not expecting your hand to be bloodied when you pull it back to inspect it. 

You got shot. 

Now you remember why you guys were supposed to basically kidnap this guy, he was a mutant. His abilities were dangerous. The way he fought was with guns and his bullets being made by his blood, it's how he killed people. It was poisonous.

Soft curses leave your lips as you press your hand tight against your wound, but your blood was still pooling out. You felt weak, like you could barely stand and keep your eyes open. You felt as if you were gonna drop dead at any given moment. But you had to help Logan, you two were supposed to do this together. 

The first step you took, you felt your knee give out. Sending your whole body to the ground, but the impact never came. Instead you feel a strong pair of arms lift up your weak body, your eyes see logan. But you refuse to believe it was him. He wouldn’t do this. Why was your body seeing things?

“You idiot! Why did you run off and chase after him like that? You know you don’t have any special abilities to protect you if he attacked you, so why?” He yelled, Logan was truthfully more scared and worried than angry. He was running as fast as he could to the jet to get you medical aid. But he only had so much time to spare before your body was consumed by the poison.

“What happened?” your voice was soft when you asked.

“You were shot in your chest! I can see the huge fucking hole!”

“I can feel it.” Even though you were basically dying, you couldn’t help but make a simple joke. “Y’know, even though you’re a total dick. You have good arm muscles. I like the way they can hold me so tightly. I feel like a princess.” you smile “If it takes getting shot and dying for you to

care, then maybe i should get shot more often.”

Logan frowns as he hears your comment, still rushing to get you to the jet as fast as possible. “You’re so fucking stupid, you’re not dying. If you wanted me to hold you in my arms then all you had to do was ask bub.” 

A weight of relief went off his soldiers once he saw the jet, he was right there. But when he looked at you, he saw that your hand was pressed against his chest and your eyes were on him. Barely opened. “Hey, stay with me.” he comments. “Keep your eyes open, please. We're almost there!”

Your eyes scrunch together as you see his lips move but no words come out, it didn’t help much that you were fading in and out of consciousness. Growing up, you were told not to be afraid of dying because you could die at any given time. Despite all the missions you’ve been on and how many times you were knocking on death's door. You were never afraid. But today was different, why were you so afraid? Maybe it was because you're dying pathetically, or the fact that you're in the arms of a man you’ve fallen in love with.

“I’m sorry.” you tell him, your voice soft and weak. Blood drips from your lips and down your chin. Your hand grabbing his shirt. Everything was going by so fast. In the middle of a deep silence, you look up into Logans eyes, knowing these might be your last moments together. Pain rushes through your body and words fly out of your mouth before your brain can catch up, and you’re saying what you’ve always wanted to say. “I love you.”

He freezes, shocked at your words. He looks down at you, taking in your face, and the pained look on it. You can see his brain racing like a speeding train, and his breath catches in his throat. “You’re an idiot. Why did you wait till this point?”

“I- I thought I would have more time.” was all you managed to say before shutting your eyes.

Finally, Logan runs up the rail of the jet and sets you on the cot. Watching the aids surround you, immediately taking quick action. With the flight there and taking you into emergency surgery. They finally came up to Logan, who fell asleep in the infirmary's waiting room. Telling him that you were okay and would make a good recovery.

Without wasting a single second, Logan rushed to your room. His heart dropped once he saw your frail, weak body. Connecting to different types of wires and IVs. He felt terrible, guilt consumed his body as thoughts raked his mind, he could've prevented all of this, all of your pain. Only if he was faster.

Logan found himself staring at your body, wanting to reach out and take your hand. He pulled up the chair by your bed and sat down, his eyes switching from your resting body to the monitor. Finally mustering the courage to take hold of your hand. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t quick enough, I should’ve been the one. But I was so fucking slow, in my own god damn bloody mind.And  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I love you back, I was just so scared. Scared that if I told you, I would never get to tell you so again. I was so fucking selfish. But holy shit, I'm so in love with you. It hurts so much. But I'll make sure to tell you every single chance I get. I love you.”

“You better get started.” you say with a smile on your face. 

Logan looks at you in a state of shock, not expecting you to be awake. Without holding back, he basically launches himself onto you. Wrapping his arms around your weak figure, wanting to hold you tight but being so gentle with you. “You’re okay” he breathes out of relief, “You’re an idiot, but you’re okay.”

“I love you too by the way.” The smile on your face was wide, you were in so much pain. But you were so happy. Never in your life did you think you would be here, but here you are. In the arms of the man you’ve pretended to hate for so long.

“Oh shut your pretty little mouth.” Was all he said before pressing his soft warm lips against yours. 

If someone had asked you what it was like getting shot, you would probably tell them it hurt really fucking bad and wouldn’t recommend it. But if they asked you on a personal level. You would tell them that you would do it again if it meant that you got to see Logan care for you. But it still hurt like a fucking bitch.

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of My Hero Academia

Greetings, friends! The ending has been announced for beloved shounen manga My Hero Academia by Kohei Horikoshi, and I thought it would be a nice opportunity for everyone to express their love of this amazing series! So I am posting a series of prompts for everyone if they would like to participate in this little fandom challenge.

The idea is that, on each day listed, you will create and post something with respect to the day's theme. By create, I mean whatever your heart desires. It could be a fanfic, a fanart, a fanvid, a moodboard, a diorama, a meta post, a screenshot, a poem, a drabble, a few sentences of reflection, anything really! Whatever your brain dreams up! The only requirements are that it qualifies as some sort of fan creation for MHA and that it pertains to the day's theme. The final day of the event will be the official release date of the final chapter of MHA: August 5th, 2024.

Any given day may have multiple prompts. You do not have to do all of them (unless you really, really want to), rather you may pick the one prompt that inspires you the most! And feel free to interpret each prompt however you like. For example, on day 8, you may wish to interpret "line" as a spoken piece of dialogue or as a drawn shape such as the way Horikoshi does creative paneling. On day 11, you could interpret "name" as a nickname, a code name, the kanji in a character's name, or any special meaning in a character's name. Let your imagination run wild!

You may skip out on days if you wish or need to. You may put as much or as little time and effort into this as you like. You could start working now to make some big works, or you could use this opportunity to do a little daily journal project. The sky is the limit! The goal here is to spend some time thinking about MHA before it ends and to make a collection of little fanworks for everyone to enjoy in the process!

Please tag your submissions as #14DaysofMHA (ideally as the post's first tag) so that everyone can enjoy them!

Without further ado, here are the prompts! Thank you @siflshonen for the assistance brainstorming them!

Fourteen Days of MHA Daily Prompts

Day 1 (July 23rd): Family, Home, House

Day 2 (July 24th): UA Academy, Education

Day 3 (July 25th): Weather, Light Fades to Rain

Day 4 (July 26th): The Ladies

Day 5 (July 27th): Quirk, Special Move

Day 6 (July 28th): Minor Character

Day 7 (July 29th): First Impressions, Just One Bad Day

Day 8 (July 30th): Title, Lyric, Music, Line

Day 9 (July 31st): Legacy, Story, Past, Childhood

Day 10 (August 1st): Emotion, Heart

Day 11 (August 2nd): Symbol (of), Name

Day 12 (August 3rd): Face, Smile, Humor

Day 13 (August 4th): Future, Growth, Change, Evolution

Day 14 (August 5th): Anything you want

Feel free to send asks if you need clarification on anything. I will try to edit in any new information to this original post for everyone's convenience!

[itsladyj]

new fanfic: yours was always meant for a brighter day

» Giveaway fic for the lovely @mischiefmilly

» F!WoL Au Ra x G'raha Tia • 2.4k words » Warm & Fluffy & Very Mild Angst » Starlight Celebration 🎄❄️💫

✰ summary ✰

—for all that he was sorry to ruin her surprise, the mere fact it’d been so purposefully written in Xaellic, a language he was not supposed to know, on a note he very clearly was not meant at all to read— And well… for her sake, he would not tell her that he could. 

G'raha is a little more bilingual than Dagasi expects him to be.

»Read Here

🌺Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed that! If you're looking to support me, I offer snippets and unpublished drabbles over on my Patreon for just $2 a month 💜These help me work on my more personal fics between comms! Thank you so much for your support!

Reblogs are appreciated!

[thatoneweirdgirl17]

Okay I came up with this at work because I was left alone with my thoughts for 10 hrs.

Imagine a feyd x single mom reader except the baby is Paul’s. Reader used to be a servant in caladan and eventually her and Paul messed around, she approached lady Jessica in confidence for help but instead got sold off because Paul getting a servant girl pregnant was not part of her plan. Later feyd kinda saves reader from the a-hole who bought her but in reality he was there to kill the guy for betraying the baron and saw reader and decided he wanted her. He finds out she’s already pregnant but instead of killing her of getting rid of her he kinda hides her away so he can have his own secret lil family (maybe as a way to cope with the childhood that was stolen from him). Feyd has his harpies protect and hide her and the baby and over time the girls bond (baby is having the worlds most protective and feral aunties). Eventually reader tell feyd who the baby’s dad is and explains how she ended up at the a-holes house. Feyd finds the situation hilarious but still decides to protect reader and raise the baby as his own (not really out of love but more as a jab at Paul like haha I have your toys but they do eventually grow to care about each other, maybe not love but definitely a codependency). When the baby is born he immediately becomes attached to her (I must protect this tiny creature) which is a new emotion to him.For a couple of years baby girl grows up seeing feyd as her dad. Eventually the events of dune happen and right before Paul is about to stab him, feyd says something along the lines “ go ahead and kill me in front of your daughter”. Paul is understandingly confused until a lil 4-5 year old comes running out to feyd screaming daddy and using the voice to make Paul back off. Everyone can instantly see who her biological father is since she has his hair, eyes and is able to use the voice. Feyd would definitely have a shit eating grin when Paul learns that his mother is the reason his daughter grew up without him. Paul tries to approach her but she turns her head and says to feyd “daddy I wanna go home” and Paul’s heart just breaks at the realization that he lost his daughter before he even knew about her. Paul can’t kill Feyd since he would loose his daughter even more and they basically create a custody agreement where Paul can come and visit her every month.

Please if someone turns this into a fic tag me so I can read🙏

Edit: I am planning on writing this out but give me some time since it will be my first fanfic since high school

@dreamlandcreations @triluvial @austinbutlerslovers @sansaorgana @purejasmine @sebastianswallows

[welcomingdisaster]

in-universe silmarillion 'rpf' tag simulator

🌟 igwiongirlxxoxoo Follow look i'd be a hypocrite to say anything against rpf on this webbed site but i did think we had the fair & wise judgement to not send fanfic to eonwe on twitter??

💜 elfcontrol Follow

👻 bluebirdiestelf Follow girl i am begging you please go read eonwe's twitter you will emerge a changed elf. 80% descriptions of weaponry 10% barely-contained desire to go and fight morgoth right the fuck now 10% the reason we ship him with arafinwe in the first place

🌈 sirion_sapphic Mutuals the slash they sent him was feanor/melkor 😬😬😬

🔮 elda_heritage_posts Following Elda heritage post.

🌬️feeeeacalimë Follow does it.... does it have to be...

🔮 elda_heritage_posts Following It's not optional.

(3,401 notes)

⛅ birdsmith Follow what i've tasted of desire || nerdanel x indis || e || 2.1k

nerdanel returns to the royal palaces slightly flushed, her freckled skin and sizeable muscles glinting under laurelin's light. she knows her lady--her queen!--waits for her, and can no longer suppress the longing rising in her chest. it is wrong and yet it is so right....

[read more on ao3]

⛅ birdsmith Follow bringing this back after feanor doxxed me ✌️✌️ #come at me bitch i got no gems and no ships and im gonna fuck your wife also #cant cos ur dead?? sucks to suck lol

(91 notes)

🔥aaaaaveryscarydragonaaaa Follow cracks me how people make such a big fuss about shipping maedhros with his brother. hes been to angband he doesnt give a shit

💎 dwarffucker4000 Follow

🔥aaaaaveryscarydragonaaaa Follow wow sorry my bad i'll stop writing about how the big bad kinslayer gives his brother little kissys lest i wreck his mental health shining elbereth get OVER yourself

(38 notes)

🌸 ofthewoods Following

sweet thingol x reader headcanons 🥺

would gaze into your eyes for 100 years

grows long silver hair for love of you

wakes up every morning from sleep (thing elves need) and gives you good morning kisses (in elven tradition)

read more #not ok to reblog #mel writes

(4 notes)

💠ofthehouseoffinrod Follow not to be a tinfoil hatter or anything but there's just no way in hell finrod did not love beor with literally every molecule of his elven soul. like try to read "a second ode to a friend lost" or like even the eulogy without seeing that i fucking dare you

#there is no platonic explanation for that #gnawing on the bars of my enclosure (52 notes, replies turned off)

🌻sweetflowersofspring Follow

(431 notes)

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Jump then fall

Aeron Bracken x Reader

Disclaimer: I wrote this for my sister who happens to love the wee pretty Bracken, Taylor Swift and Baby's Breath flowers. Please let me know if you'd like a second part.

Description: Aeron and Y/N meet as children and are quickly inseparable. Circumstances separate them until they meet again as adults and Aeron is immediately infatuated, but believes his feelings to be unrequited.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Final Part

Warnings: female reader. Mention of insecurities over traditional gender norms. Extremely inexperienced fanfic writer. A truly heinous amount of Taylor Swift references if you don't listen to her music. Specifically Enchanted, Mary's Song, Peace, Jump then fall, and All of the Girls You've loved Before

Aeron found his eyes wandering back to Y/N, as they ceaselessly did whenever he knew she was near, drawn as a moth to firelight. He watched the satin fabric of her dress shift as she weaved through the gathered throng of lords and ladies, the tendrils of her hair sway as she pushed it carelessly over her shoulder, her face alight in a gentle smile that had his heart clenching painfully in his chest. He watched as she came to a stop in front of her father, handing him the goblet of wine that had been the purpose of her venture across the hall, that had her brushing so close to him that he could smell the faint perfume of gardenias woven throughout the braids in her hair. He had steeled himself against stopping her in an attempt to engage her in conversation, but had been unable to avert his traitorous eyes from her entirely, try as he might.

So lost in simply gazing at her was he that he was startled when her eyes abruptly met his own, a sign he must surely have been gawking rather than discretely stealing glaces as he had oft found himself doing of late. A full moon had passed since they had been reintroduced as adults grown, an absence of 10 years separating them from the friendship of their youth. His Lord uncle had sought to present her father to him as a loyal bannerman, returned from years of service to the crown spent in Kings Landing to support the Bracken cause against  the Blackwoods. His words fell on deaf ears for instantly his focus was drawn to the young lady arm in arm with her father, her eyes as familiar to his heart as his own, despite the progress of time.

Enchanted by her delicate beauty and the sweet smile she directed towards him, it was her easy humour and immediate enthusiasm to engage him in recollections of their childhood that saw him falling into a chasm he knew he could not, or did not want to, prise himself from. Since that first look he had found himself entirely unable to look away. Nevertheless, he presently averted his gaze to the walls of the Great Banquet Hall, desperately focusing on tracing the elaborate designs on the Bracken Stronghold's golden tapestries. The light tread of footsteps he could instantly recognise as belonging to Y/N sent his heart racing as they brought the object of his senseless and surely unrequited adoration ever closer to him.

Time seemed to stop as he watched Y/N walk towards him, frantically trying to gather his thoughts so that he might string a coherent sentence together. Stopping a pace in front of him Y/N beamed up at him. "I trust you are having a pleasant evening good knight." Returning her smile nervously with one of his own he bowed his head respectfully despite their difference in status. "Indeed my lady, and I trust you are enjoying your evening?"

He was pleased that he had not stuttered at least but his tone was rigid and overtly formal when he had known hers was lightly teasing, most assuredly so as her face fell slightly. "We were once friends. I should like to be so again should you allow." Her expression was hopeful and he regrettably took note of an underlying semblance of hurt. Had she noticed his self- imposed isolation and avoidance of her and thought it a reflection of some sort of infraction on her part? That had not been his intention, rather he had hoped to avoid strengthening feelings he believed to be unrequited.

Before he lost his courage entirely he replied "I should like that as well." Y/N's face lit up once more, her eyes shining brightly under the glow of the candles that lit the hall. "Good, then may I prevail upon you to meet me under the Brackentree on the morrow?" Aeron wanted to throw all sense of caution to the wind just for the moment to acquiesce to her request. What harm could there be, he could surely manage a friendship with her at least could he not? And he found himself steadfastly agreeing "Should it please you."

The next day Aeron found himself waiting for Y/N under the golden Bracken tree that was their old haunt. A cold mist had settled over the land and the grass glistened with fresh morning dew. The sun cast an amber glow that warmed him as he waited, silently anticipating the light tread of Y/N's footsteps. Spotting her at a distance yonder they exchanged shy smiles as he walked to meet her halfway. "My lady" Aeron began before Y/N cut him off "You know I am no Lady."

"You are to me" Aeron interrupted, growing in boldness. Her eyes snapping to his, Y/N softly spoke "Just y/n please."

"Y/N then." Her name left his mouth, solemn and with a reverance he hoped she could not hear in his treacherous voice, though he could. "Thank you Aeron" she replied, grinning up at him then. He had heard her speak his name many times in their youth but no prior instance had such an instant affect on him. To hear it now stirred in him a feeling of contentment so intense he felt his mouth part in a silent gasp of shock, quickly schooling his features in case she caught him gawping like a fish. He followed her gaze back to the Bracken tree, it's conflagration of red and yellow leaves lightly fluttering in the gentle breeze.

"This used to be our tree, I remember it fondly. Do you?" Her question struck him as tinged by an air of insecurity. Did she think he could so easily forget her or the happiest period of his childhood, spent playing at knights taking turns to craft tales of dragons and princesses, the Targaryen dynasty being an object of great fascination to them both. "I remember it well" he assured her, prompting y/n's soft smile.

The Bracken tree held a special significance for them both, having been the place of their first meeting. Aeron had been a boy of four and ten, ambling about his Lord uncle's lands on a warm summer afternoon when he had come across Y/N, a girl who could not be more than ten years old, clinging to a branch high up in the tree for dear life, her knuckles white from her grip, her eyes tightly shut. Aeron could not understand how this girl could have found herself in such a precarious situation, immediately sparking his curiosity and so he called up to her. "Good day young miss."

The girl's eyes snapped open, startled and then at once hopeful. "I wish that I could wish you good day but it does not feel so. I find myself in a bit of a scrape, I am stuck you see." "I do indeed see, and how did you come to find yourself in such a scrape?" He called back, slightly amused by her defeated tone and the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Promise not to laugh."

"I promise." He was not sure he could promise in truth but he was eager to hear how the girl had come to find herself in her current predicament.

"My cat got itself stuck up the tree and I climbed up to retrieve her. As soon as I reached her she climbed back down, which is when I realised I was afraid of heights...so now I'm stuck."

Aeron could not stop the laugh that left his lips but quickly quieted as Y/N shot him with a savage glare.

"You promised not to laugh" she pouted and even as a boy he could not help but want nothing more than to see her smile instead.

"Apologies my lady, I will assist you if I can" he exaggeratedly bowed with a flourish and a hand to his heart in the hopes of amusing her.

"Do you think you can climb back down?'"

The girl looked briefly down and immediately shut her eyes, shaking her head frantically.

"No, I don't think so."

Slowly walking up to the base of the tree he held his arms out.

"You must jump then. I will catch you."

He tried not to let her scoff and look of raw panic and disbelief insult his dignity too much.

"But I'll fall."

"Yes..into me."

"What if you don't catch me and I snap my neck?"

"I assure you form that height you could break an arm but certainly not your neck. And I have promised to catch you."

She studied his features for what seemed like an age but could only have been a few seconds, seemingly trying to gauge his sincerity before she started to loosen her grip and raise herself into more of an upright position, legs dangling over the edge of the branch she rested upon as she firmly grabbed the trunk of the tree.

'"You're sure you can?"

"I don't see that you have another option" Aeron teased raising his arms higher up towards her.

Breathing deeply through her nose she nodded.

"OK, I trust you."

When she jumped Aeron caught her as promised, the momentum of her fall causing his arms to shake briefly before he readjusted his hold and lowered her to the ground, maintaining a grip on her elbows to steady her. He caught her gaze as she looked up at him in what he thought was a mix of awe and gratitude, or perhaps simply relief at no longer being airborne.

"You caught me."

"I promised you I would."

"Y/N"

"What?"

"My name is Y/N. What's yours?"

"Aeron Bracken, ward of Lord Bracken."

The young girl's eyes widened for a moment before she replied.

"Thank you for rescuing me. Would you like to meet here tomorrow and I can show you my cat. The one that got me stuck?"

A few years her senior, her response was that of a child seeking a friend. Used to being overlooked in his own home, having lost his parents at a young age and growing up under the gaze of a rather stern uncle whose expectations he never seemed to meet, Aeron found his heart warmed by Y/N's offer of friendship.

"Should it please you."

Stalking off immediately towards his home he could not know that the two of them would become inseparable from this first meeting. The two would meet daily at the Brackenwood tree to pour over tales of knights and stories of Targaryen dragon riders. Otherwise they would invent quests that would see them running about the Brackenwoods until the sun began to set. But they could often be found simply sitting comfortably in silence together, a level of intimacy Aeron had failed to find with another. Two years later y/n's father was called to serve as a knight at the Red Keep in Kings Landing, taking Y/N with him, despite her protestations, and Aeron could not but suspect his Lord uncle had been involved in their parting, having persistently chided him for neglecting his duties to amble about the Brackenwood with a girl he viewed of no importance.

Aeron's thoughts were sharply brought back to the present as Y/N suddenly turned away from him and abruptly began to walk downhill away from their tree and towards the Brackenwood. His brief moment of surprise at the suddenness of her actions was short lived as with a glance back in his direction he realised she meant him to follow her. His height advantage allowed him to catch up to her in  few long strides before he slowed his pace to match hers. Aeron felt her shoulder lightly brush his arm and it was as if he had been struck by a lightening bolt and he glanced down to see how close the rocky terrain had brought them.

Instilled with an uncharacteristic surge of confidence at Y/N's clear lack of discomfort a their proximity he lifted his arm out towards her. "May I offer you my arm, the terrain is uneven and you are like to trip in your skirts." Levelling a sweet smile at him that he felt sure could rival the light of the sun and had him thanking the gods for mustering up a semblance of courage to offer in the first place, Y/N gently entwined their arms, lightly placing her smaller hand on his bicep. "Thank you good knight, you are most chivalrous." Her tone was familiar and jesting, but Aeron rejoiced to see a light blush grace Y/N's cheeks.

For the first time Aeron began to hope that perhaps his feelings were not unfounded, that he could hope to find them reciprocated in time. The intensity of his infatuation with Y/N had always been matched only by his assurance that his feelings could never be returned. Y/N was beautiful and kind, always so patient and with an intelligence and wit that had her consuming his every waking thought. Whilst his Lord uncle's heir by virtue of his uncle having no living son, he felt what he believed to be his deficiencies acutely.

He had but recently been appointed a knight, he was all too aware that this honour was not bestowed upon him on account of any great swordsmanship or feats of courage on his part. Aeron was tall and while lean he was not without strength or any skill with the sword. But it was his preference for exploits of the mind, his propensity to while away the day in his uncle's library rather than in the training field that separated him most definitively from the other Bracken knights. At the crux of the problem, however, was his introverted and shy temperament that had plagued him since childhood and had him stumbling over his words whenever Y/N was nearby.

He had convinced himself that he could never deserve Y/N and resolved to keep his distance, exchanging few words and replacing the words he wished he could speak to her with fleeting glances across a Banquet Hall. How could he, in good faith, present himself to her as an option when she surely sought a match that would grant her protection and security, whilst he could barely muster up the courage to meet her gaze now as upon entering the Brackenwood she began to speak of her purpose for their current course?

"I apologise for unceremoniously dragging you into the woods, I do recall there used to be a bushel of baby's breath flowers to the east of these woods. I was quite fond of them as a girl and should like to gather some, there is no such flower in Kings Landing."

"I remember, my lady."

"Aeron" She scolded.

"My apologies...Y/N."

"You remember?"

"I do, we walked this path often to gather your flowers. I distinctly recall you proclaiming yourself the Princess of Brackenwood and myself your sworn protector to guide you safely through the woods." Aeron found himself slipping into the playfulness that had characterised their childhood friendship the longer he was in Y/N's presence. Her resounding laughter had his heart soaring.

"Ah, so you do indeed remember. I had feared you'd forgotten me entirely. We have barely spoken since I returned to the Riverlands."

"Of course not!" He quickly protested but paused when he spotted her own playful grin and he realised she was just teasing him.

"It appears that in my great wisdom even as a girl you were well appointed for I never came to any harm in these woods with you by my side. Though I am no princess and am surely in no need of a sworn protector I am most grateful for your company now."

"I would still keep you safe" Aeron assured Y/N for that was something Aeron was at least most certain of. He tried to keep his tone light, enjoying the levity of their current course of conversation and not wishing to derail it.

"Why thank you good knight" Y/N laughed, briefly turning her head to rest it lightly on his shoulder before retracting it once more. Aeron's heart soared at the unexpectedly affectionate gesture, wishing she would lean into him again.

They walked in silence for a time, but it was not an awkward and uncomfortable silence Aeron had feared. Instead it was one of two people who understand one another, filled by a sense of familiarity and shared intimacy. Y/N had never bristled at his quiet and reserved nature before and Aeron was struck by the realisation that mayhaps he had been wrong to expect her to do so now as a woman.

Coming across the broken trunk of a tree they had often sat upon, taking turns to read to one another from the books Aeron would spirit from his Uncle's library, Aeron lowered his arm from Y/N's. Jumping lightly over the trunk he proferred his hand to help her over the obstacle. The feeling of her warm, soft hand placed atop his own had him forgetting himself entirely. Looking down at her hand delicately placed on his he suddenly felt sure that hers was made for his, their hands intertwined and all the stars aligned. Realising he had been holding her hand longer than was strictly necessary, he cleared his throat, tucking her arm back over his to continue their progress.

"Aha" Y/N delightedly removed herself from his grip to traipse over to the object of their quest. Content to just watch her as she happily began to gather up the flowers she had always favoured so much, Aeron stood off to the side until it became obvious that Y/N could no longer contain the copious amounts of flowers she had gathered within her arms. Stepping forward he called to her "Can I be of assistance? You can deliver them into my arms." Y/N paused to consider, then promptly deposited half of her loot into his arms. "We shall both carry them, my mother too will be most pleased."

As they set their path for the return journey Aeron hoped and prayed to the gods that they would not come across his friends, who would surely laugh at him for his current state, or god forbid the Blackwood hooligans that terrorised the Bracken borders. His long hair and delicate features, combined with his lack of interest in becoming a fierce warrior had been the grounds for Blackwood insults previously and an armful of flowers would surely provide ample fodder for those craven scoundrels. Even so, he was certain it would be worth it, just to be at Y/N's side. A newfound confidence rose in him. He may not ever be a fearsome warrior but he could yet be brave. He would set aside his insecurities, his fears, and he would win Y/N's affections for himself if he could.

[witheredoffherwitch]

Y'ALL CAN EXCUSE RACISM?

Let's get one thing straight: I have no part in this chaotic mess (infact, I have blocked all the accounts mentioned below), but it's grinding my gears how it's devolving into another petty fanfic drama: case 607. I know this drama is getting the attention for certain individuals who are demonstrating mean girl behaviour and gossiping about other writers behind their backs. However, I am solely focused on addressing the racist and discriminatory remarks made by these individuals in the leaked text messages.

For those not in the loop, there's been a huge drama in the fanfic community involving leaked text messages from a group chat of four prominent members. In these messages, two users - Fae and Bel - have admitted to sending hate anons and talking smack about other writers behind their backs. Two other members left the group after it was revealed that B tried to make amends with someone who these two, Em and Ange, don't particularly care for. As a move to clear their names, Em exposed all the texts, trying to prove that Fae and Bel are the real villains here.

But wait, there's more! In these same chats, Bel not only mocked fellow non-English speakers but also bragged about sending rat emojis to an 18-year-old Pakistani writer who was already receiving racist anons. While everyone is focused on getting back at these two women for being shady af, it's mind-boggling how Em and Ange are suddenly jumping on the anti-racism train.

These two ladies stayed in the same chat as a fellow Pakistani writer was driven away because of racism, knowing full well that one of their own was contributing to it, and said NOTHING! Zero discouragement, no condemnation - they only hopped off when things got personal.

So here it is… I've had it with all of you hypocrites. You praise and encourage these women at every turn, feeding their egos like they're the second coming of Beyonce. But let's not forget who's always stirring up drama in this fandom - hint: it's these same people with a sense of entitlement the size of a planet. The issue is groupthink and y'all have all jumped on the bandwagon. You're worse than HBO's marketing department because just like their shitty teams, everyone involved here SUCKS ASS. You don't have to pick a side because they are all petty, mean losers. Bel and Fae are facing the consequences of their actions, which they rightfully deserve.

However, Em's exposé on Bel's racism seems more like an opportunistic move and it's disappointing that so many of you are supporting it. It's a predictable cycle now; there will be a half-hearted apology, an announcement of a hiatus, and then tons of people will flock to their inboxes to shower them with praise and excuses. It's ridiculous! I know there are many who feel the same way as me but are afraid to speak up because they don't want to upset the "village elders" and risk losing their connections and engagements. It's a joke atp!

Instead of taking responsibility for their own wrongdoings, they will come up with a list of 10 different cyber crimes by others to divert attention from their own nonsense. These very same women have confessed to creating multiple fake accounts, secretly stalking servers without mods noticing, and constantly harassing individuals through anon messages.

Yet, we are supposed to consider them as examples of moral integrity and ethical behavior? 😒

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.4k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things starts to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

An: So, initially I was going to post the other fanfic I did with Fuckboy! Leon, but I thought it was bad and decided not to post it for now. But I still have plans for it.

I intend to do several chapters on this fic(I'm sucker for royalty AU), I don't know exactly how many but I plan to do more than 10 or 15, since I have a lot of stuff I want to put in. Most of them are not comforting.

This is a thank you to the 200 followers, which by the way is almost 300 by now. I'd like to genuinely thank each and every one of you<3 And I hope you enjoy this story, because I'm genuinely excited about it.

Prologue

Royalty wasn't for everyone, that much was obvious to those who already lived in this reality. A world of appearances where everything was perfect, people, everyday life, relationships. But that was a facade, the reality took place between closed doors.

It was never clean, the backstabbing behind the king's back, the betrayals, the lust that hid behind the elaborate and sophisticated costumes. But in the end, what mattered was how beautiful that royal family was to its subjects, honor being a crucial element to maintain.

Faced with all this, the Italian prince, Leon, was well aware of the dynasty's sacrifices. He was already aware of his duty, and knew that at some point his life would take a completely different turn from what he had expected. As the only heir, he knew that it wouldn't be long before his father wanted him to marry, after all, he had to carry on the line. The honor of the kingdom had to continue, and he was the only one who could.

Although he already knew that the burden of succession would come to him one day, he just didn't expect it to be so soon.

Leon was a man known for his accomplishments, despite his young age he was a brave man, as well as the incomparable beauty he contained. Sharp features, a piercing blue gaze, a prince who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He had a unique authenticity.

Yet he still couldn't fit in with his surroundings. His eyes staring at the chandelier, seeing how decorated everything in the castle was. Seeing the expensive clothes of each of the invited guests, the glittering dresses of the ladies who were there. He watched the people walking around the hall, seeing how comfortable they were in that situation.

But not him.

The evening was planned to be perfect, days and weeks of planning went into making this great event happen. All the most important royals were present at the castle, from the most prestigious dukes and duchesses to other kings and queens.

Today was the day that the Italian prince, Leon, would be presented to his future wife. He was the rightful heir, the next to rule his own kingdom. That's why the ballroom was perfect, every last detail thought of and worked on to create the perfect occasion.

To show off the future rulers of the country. The next ones who would take care of that kingdom and prosper it. It was a more than necessary moment to demonstrate the future couple.

Despite all the sophistication and dedication that the queen put into the celebration, Leon didn't seem to be at all excited or happy about the situation. He was sitting in one of the royal chairs, taking small sips of the most expensive wine, his expression sullen and bitter.

He didn't ask for any of this.

The day when the fates of two royals would cross, intertwine and become one. A marriage that would unite them, a commitment that once made could not be broken.

If he was being honest, he didn't even want to be a prince. This royal life didn't suit him, all these comforts and perks that didn't seem to fit in with anything he liked. A forced life, just because he was born into this family.

From where he was sitting, he could see you coming. The beautiful British princess, dressed in the most expensive of dresses, hair tied up in a bun. The ornaments that shone on you, as well as the enchanting smile that could melt even the hardest heart. At that point, all eyes were on you, curious and expectant. Everyone there was close to the soon-to-be queen.

Admiring your features, he couldn't deny that you were beautiful. Your sweet features, your face that exuded the purest grace and youth. Your way of walking that seemed to make you flutter with every step.

Still, you weren't her. You weren't the woman he loved. The only one capable of bringing a genuine smile to the skeptical man he was.

You weren't Ashley Graham, the princess he had fallen madly in love with. The one with whom he had sworn several vows of love, the one with whom he had promised to spend the rest of his life.

And there he was, preparing to marry another woman. One he didn't even know, or have any proximity to, and even worse, to marry a woman he didn't love. No matter how much he protested this to his father, nothing he said was listened to.

'You're going to marry her, whether you like it or not.' Words that still echoed in his head, and seeing how close this marriage was, he felt the weight of the situation on his back.

Yes, he had always known that this moment would come. His duty as a prince, to follow what was prescribed. What fate was supposed to have in store for him, even if he didn't believe in it.

But all his thoughts vanish once he hears a sweet voice calling him:

"Your Highness." The tender feminine voice coming from your lips, along with the elegant curtsy you made.

He blinked a few times, holding back a sigh out of politeness. Like the gentleman he was, he rose from his seat, returning the bow to you.

"Good to see you here, Your Highness." He says courteously, even if it's a lie. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was keep up appearances.

It was hard not to notice the prince's beauty, his handsome and charming face, his eyes the lightest shade of blue you'd ever seen. His blond hair was just as captivating. No wonder he was one of the most desired.

You felt lucky to be the woman who would marry him, even though you knew that the prince already had someone else in his heart. Rumors spread fast, especially when it came to a family as important as his. But magically things remained under wraps, even though the suspicions of this secret relationship were well-founded.

You always knew that like most marriages, you wouldn't marry someone you were in love with. But you still had a glimmer of hope that you could make him like you, at least a little bit. You hated to think that maybe your marriage was a ruin like all the others.

Love and royalty didn't go together, yet you wanted to try and make it something unique.

"Would you like a dance?" Leon asks, snapping you out of your deep trance of thoughts.

You nodded with a polite smile, holding his warm hand as he led you into the middle of the hall. The classical music that echoed through the space, as other people danced and celebrated, gave the place a joyful atmosphere.

As soon as you were in the middle of the ballroom, all eyes were on you. With a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, he bowed and began to dance with you.

One hand on your back, the other intertwined with yours, your bodies very close, your faces almost touching.

His feet moved in sync with yours, both of you moving gracefully. Whirling around the ballroom. The two of you waltzing all over the place, keeping smiles and gentle glances for each other. Acting as if you were a couple in love, making silent vows. His eyes not leaving yours for a minute, his hand briefly squeezing yours, the moment seemed magical. In a way you never imagined it could be.

His cologne filling your nostrils, the heat emanating from his body. Everything about him seemed to draw your attention, as if it were a temptation.

You could feel your heart beating fast, the butterflies in your stomach that showed your clear nervousness. But still you didn't stumble once, your grace and elegance being whispered about among the guests.

His eyes staring into yours, a slight smile at the corner of his lips. This dance was a demonstration of the cooperation between the two countries, the union that was about to take place. A reason to be honored.

Despite the delicacy of the moment, the fluidity with which you danced, the mesmerizing sophistication of your movements. The way your dress dragged across the floor and danced with you. The passionate look you insisted on seeing in him.

You knew it was a lie. A damn lie.

It was confirmed once you saw his eyes light up, the outline of a sincere smile forming on his lips. At first you thought it was directed at you, but that feeling was crushed when you decided to take a look back.

There she was, the breathtaking Highness Graham, the blonde who had captured Leon's heart. The girl who wore a delicate white dress, with sophisticated and expensive accessories, enhancing her beauty. She stood among the others, just admiring him with a beautiful smile.

She knew she had his heart in the palm of her hand, so she couldn't feel the slightest bit jealous of you. He belonged to her.

You felt it in the way he admired her, in the way he looked at her in a way you couldn't even dream of. He was hopelessly in love, to the point where he even forgot you were standing in front of him. His body just moved on automatic, as if his focus was only on Ashley, only on her.

Although you wanted to pull back a little, you couldn't. The waltz wasn't over yet, it was a tradition, and you had to go until the music stopped. You couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart, the feeling that you had already lost a battle that hadn't even begun.

Nobody said you could have his heart.

As he twirls with you, he seems to focus his attention on you once again. Just for a brief moment, he was smart, he knew he couldn't give too much leeway for other rumors to spread around.

It was imaginable that the marriage would be a failure, since both kingdoms only saw it as an opportunity to increase business. However, you didn't expect to get this response so quickly.

Destined for an unreachable man, who was so close and yet so far away. How cruel could fate be?

And so you continued, keeping up the play of a couple in love, dancing and waltzing around the room. His gaze shifting between you and her, just as his expression changed with every glance. For one he gave a polite smile, for the other he gave a genuine one.

And you already knew who was who in the story.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waltz was over. You are presented with a round of applause, whistles and sincere words of approval for your union.

This while you waved and smiled, then bowed to each other, a sign of respect from both sides. As well as showing your gratitude to each other for the opportunity to dance. Etiquette and tradition, which you were following to the letter.

As soon as the applause stopped, Leon held out his arm for you to take, so that he could guide you to the place where the king would give a speech about the future marriage.

Consequently, you and Leon would officially become engaged. There were many looks on both of your faces, so many that you couldn't even count.

One in particular caught your eye, the same woman who had captured Leon's attention earlier, Ashley Graham.

The subtle smile, which was soon reciprocated by Leon, although discreet, you were able to perceive this small exchange between them. You couldn't deny the lump that was forming in your throat as you tried to let the situation sink into your head, that you would at least understand how it would go on.

As you walked through the great hall, stepping on the expensive marble, making your way to where the king would make his pronouncement. Walking through the crowd of distinguished guests who were there.

You noticed him looking at you from the corner of his eye, as if he were analyzing you from head to toe. It wasn't as if he was judging you or anything, it seemed more like the look of someone who wanted to look at his future wife, as if he was thinking about how things would be from now on.

Which you didn't even know what it would be like, either.

It wasn't long before you arrived at the King's chambers, a polished and expensive place, you could feel the sophistication of his throne just by looking at it. The place was perfectly tidy, the carpet had no fuss at all, perfectly done. Every butler and waiter duly took their places, bowing as you walked.

It seemed that the king had already started his speech, but he hadn't gotten to the important part yet. First, he had to give a statement to those attending the event, nothing more than a courtesy to them for being there, as well as reinforcing his duty to his kingdom, and to each of his subjects.

A while later, the king stood up, raised a glass of wine and said loud and clear:

"Tonight is a special night," then his gaze falls on the two of you, and he smiles broadly, "My heir, my only son is going to marry."

Despite the obvious, a round of applause echoed around the room, whistles and compliments. Which caused you and Leon to smile at each other, acting as if the happiness was genuine, as if you weren't two unacquainted people about to get married.

As soon as Leon's father saw the general reaction, he raised his glass and said, "Cheers."

Enough for another wave of loud sounds and murmurs from people. They seemed to be very happy about the future of the kingdom.

Leon then gave you a hug around the waist, swirling you in the air. Even his smile changed, and you believed even for a second that it was real.

"We'll be happy," Leon murmurs, loud enough for the people around you to hear and giggle at the new couple.

"Yes, of course." You say with a sweetness in your voice, buying his conversation. Deep down you wanted it to be real, but you knew the shadow that stood between the two of you.

It was a lie, a facade, and maybe it would never be real.

[brick-boats]

Happy anniversary to the US release of Thomas and The Magic Railroad!

My rewritten script is now available to read either by the link below or by scanning the QR code.

Please like, reblog, or comment your thoughts. I appreciate your support!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1cOqrKfkoqXWh14twtziItmJgLvkKFd42ah3J6MZqGTI/edit