#I DIDN'T say Gardener INVENTED the word

[lovesickpvppy]

- SUMMER SONG -

word count: 1.2k

plot: leon is back from college and you have some fun together ; )

warnings: oral (f receiving), fluff, awkwardness, re2 leon !

notes: haii, hope u guys enjoy this !🤍

you met leon on a hot summer day, sweat dripped down your neck as you planted some flowers in your garden, a family has just moved into the house beside yours, specifically his family . you still hadn't met any of them yet but you wanted to, lucky for you right when you got up from your knees leon was passing by your gate, you waved at him and he waved back, your first interacting with your neighbor! now that was three years ago . you had just finished high school and college was right around the corner, leon on the other hand was visiting his parents for the summer, he was now twenty one years old, a three year age gap wasn't that bad, right?

his parents had so generously invented everyone on the block to they're house for a pool party or rather a barbeque, you chose your swimsuit and put on your sandals, you and your parents made your way to they're home, knocking on their door . when the door swung open instead of seeing leon's parents like you expected you saw him, fuck what were you gonna say, luckily your parents could tell you were stuck and they started to greet him, he stepped aside, letting you come in, they're house was big, not like rich rich big, but definitely big

leon guided you to they're garden where the pool and everyone else was, you sat down on a lawn chair and unexpectedly leon sat down next to you . you immediately panicked, your mind racing while thinking about what to say, 'how was high school?' leon broke the silence, you quickly thought of a short response, 'oh, good...I think' he chuckled, 'how was college?' you asked, 'fun, stressful too' you nodded your head, the silence was comfortable but leon got up and patted you on your shoulder, 'you want something to drink?' you looked up at him from your seat and nodded, 'use your words' he gently demanded, that caught you by surprise but before you could think words were already coming out of your mouth

'I would like a glass of water' he smiled and nodded, walking off to go get the both of your drinks . minutes later he came back with two plastic cups, one with water and the other one with beet, right he could drink . he stopped in front of you, 'you wanna sit by the pool?' you were to focused on how good he looks in the sun to form a sentence, all you could let out was a weak 'mhm' before standing up and taking your glass . you sat down at the pool, dipping your calves in the water and sipping on your drink, leon sat next to you and leaned back, fuck he looked so good, you thought as you tried your absolute best to not stare

he started to make conversation, yet the conversation was mostly him talking, but you didn't mind, you could listen to him talk for hours . suddenly you spaced out, completely lost in thought, you don't particularly know about what but you do know it was about leon, maybe it was about his eyes, maybe his hair or maybe his hands, 'you look really pretty in your bathing suit, the colors suit you' his words broke your train of thought, 'huh?' you whipped your head in his direction, 'I said, you look pretty in your bathing suit '

'oh' you awkwardly cleared your throat, 'thank you', you wanted to giggle like a school girl, leon kennedy just called your pretty, sure it wasn't actually that big of a deal, he probably calls a bunch of girls pretty, especially with all the college girls he was around . 'you wanna go inside? I can show you my room' you thought about it, was going into his room really a good idea? probably not but that didn't stop you . holding his hand you slipped away from the rest of the people, he led you to his room, up the stairs and first door to the left

you sat down on his bed, he started to show you all his collections, he looked so cute explaining all his stuff to you . you giggled at every dumb joke he made and nodded as he talked about all the "interesting" facts about video games, you could get used to being around him . once he was done he sat in his desk chair, 'so...' he trailed off, it was an awkward situation, a pretty girl was in his room and he'd spent ten minutes geeking out on her . with all the thoughts going through your head one of them came out of your mouth, 'leon I want you' his head perked up as you said that, did he hear you right?

he chuckled and stood up, he slowly walked over to you, his pointer finger and thumb capturing your chin, forcing you to look up at him, 'what did you say?' he said with a light smirk on his face, fuck, he was forcing you to repeat yourself. I... want you' you cringed as you said it, you couldn't believe you actually let that slip out. his thumb traveled up to your cheek, he gently caressing it, he took in the sight of you, your eyes wide and your lips parted, 'pretty' he mumbled before crashing his lips into yours

it took you a second to register what was happening, when you did you kissed back, his lips feeling like heaven against yours. he gently and slowly pushed you onto his bed, his hands placed on your hips with his fingers digging into the bone. you winced or rather moaned when he bit your bottom lip, he chuckled against your lips. your hands trailed up his spine to his hair, your fingers gripping on to it as the kiss became sloppy, he hooked his finger on the waistband of the bottom part of your bikini, 'can I?" you quickly nodded

'yes, please get it off' you whined, he slid it down and kissed the inside of your thighs, he hooked your legs on his shoulders and gave your clit a kiss, you moaned from the stimulation.

he licked a stripe from your the bottom of your cunt to the top before sliding his tongue inside you, 'fuck' you whined out in pleasure, he replaced his tongue with his two of his fingers, curling them inside you, your hips bucked and you dug the back of your head into the pillow below you. his mouth quickly moved to your clit, kissing and licking it, he was practically making out with your pussy

his fingers slid in and out of your gummy walls, you felt an intense feeling bubbling up in your stomach, 'leon, gonna cum, please don't stop' he complied to your request, he curled his digits into you on more time before he felt your clench around him and cum, he help you through your orgasm, your mouth agape and your eyes shut as you came. he gave you clit one last kiss before sliding his fingers out of you, licking and sucking all your juices off them

you regained your senses and opened your eyes, he roughly kissed you and messaged your tits, 'wanna make you cum too��� you said inbetween kisses, he shook his head

'you can do that another time'

another time?

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Oh! What if when Adam was made, he was already made chubby? He was the First Human, the prototype if you will, and they were experimenting with humans and how they should make them. They make Adam on the chubby side, much bigger than anyone else in Heaven, but they aren't happy with how he looks.

So they make Lilith much skinnier. Lilith doesn't like him at all based on his appearance but one day while Lucifer is visiting the Garden, he notices Adam crying by a river.

He's never seen so many curves on...anyone before. He's used to stick thin angels in Heaven. Adam has so much more to hold...

Lucifer decides that he wants Adam, I'm imagining him a bit darker because he does take advantage of Adam's innocent nature to touch him, and he will. He just needs to get closer....

XxX

Adam was crying at the river, tears in his eyes. He didn't know why Lilith was avoiding him but no matter what he did or said, she always said that he wasn't good enough. Ugly. A new word she invented just for Adam. Something undesirable.

He poked his stomach with a frown. He understands angels are perfect. So then why does he feel disgusted by his own appearance?

Adam: I don't understand why everyone hates me...*He sobs. He didn't know what to do.*

Unbeknownst to him, he was being watched by a pair of blue eyes...

Awwww! Poor Adam :( He doesn't know any better he was literally made that way. What a bunch of bitches.

Yeah me too, but first a little fluff as a segway.

-

Lucifer watched from a good distance, if the other human was woman than this was man. His eyes trailed all of the lovely curves that Adam had on display and Lucifer was bewitched by the sight.

But why was crying? From what he's heard Eden is supposed to be a perfect paradise with nothing negative to take place. Constant happiness and tranquility. So why the tears?

Maybe this could be his way in! Finally introduce himself and if he makes things better maybe he'll let him touch him? Even just a little? Lucifer really wanted to place his hands on those hips.

Ever so careful as to not startle him, Lucifer went over to finally make his presence known. "Excuse me."

Adam jumped, he was so lost in his sadness he didn't notice the angel that came over. "Y-yes?"

"You're Adam right? I'm Lucifer, why are you crying?" He sat down beside Adam who sniffed sadly, his honey brown eyes still lined with tears.

"Lilith said that I'm ugly....." Lucifer frowned, was that skinny bitch blind?

"Now why would she say a cruel thing like that? He made you to be perfect and in His image. Why, I'm looking at you right now and you're the most beautiful being I've ever laid my eyes on." Lucifer reached out and wiped a tear. Oh his skin was so soft!

And that's just the skin on his face.

Adams lip wobbled, "Really?" If an angel thought he was beautiful well.....

Lucifer smiled, "Of course, I'd never lie to you."

[hwasoup]

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist !!

songs to listen along with: the beast, etc..

art credit goes to Marbipa

OMG guys, I literally hat to let this one sit and marinate for a while even though I typed it out like so long ago. AND I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TO ADD THE SONGS FOR LAST CHAPTER, DW I DID THOUGH. Ugh and I literally also just found out that i had a textbook for a class, i didn't deep dive into the syllabus. AHHHHH regardless I hope you guys enjoyyy !! our favorite characters have finally met!!

like always tell me if you’d like to be tagged !!

prev | ch.4

warnings: wrongful incarceration, bargaining, yelling, really bad british slang, mexican spanish (im sorry y’all im venezuelan ☠️)

word count: 3.3k

Chapter 3: The Beast

After going through the thick woods, trusting Felipe to take her to where she needs to go…

Y/N makes it deep and far in the woods and stops Felipe from galloping when she spots her father’s wagon. She looks at all of the scattered food, items, and even his invention. In worry, she clutches on Felipe’s reins tightly and directs him to keep on going. After riding Felipe some time, the air gets thicker and fog covers the entirety of the forest. She then notices Felipe starting to trot and make his way down a gravel path. She looks around the dead trees and notices the large gates and the grand castle in front of her. “What is this place…” she says nervously. Felipe then starts nickering and anxiously moving as he didn’t want to go inside the gates. Y/N had to get off to comfort the horse and calm him down. After a few moments, she turns around and peeks inside the gate to see her father’s hat. She opens them and she reaches for the hat and holds it tightly in her hands, her worry now increasing for him. “Come on Felipe, we have to go inside” 

She mounts the horse once more and goes inside the gate, going through the garden until she makes it to the steps of the castle. Y/N then gets off Felipe and carefully goes up the stairs, grabbing a large stick from the stairs as a weapon incase if she needs to defend herself. She then makes it to the top and carefully opens the door. Peering inside she walks in hesitantly, as she looks around. 

“Look Jess…it's a pretty girl” 

“I can see that Miles, I lost my hands.. Not my eyes” 

 Miles then peeks at Jess and whispers “but what if she’s the one who’ll break the spell ?” Y/N turns around confused at the sound of whispering “Who said that ?” She looks around to see nobody except for a candelabra and a clock. She quietly approaches the two of them looking at the inanimate figures confused at what she heard. Her thoughts however were shunned as she could hear her father’s cough from a distance. In her desperateness to find him, she takes the candelabra and goes to look for him. Jess looks at Miles being taken and she simply sighs. 

Y/N follows the sound of coughing to a set of stairs, as she gets closer she then peers into a hall that goes up a tower. She anxiously walks up the stairs as she yells out “PAPA ??” She walks up the stairs faster as the coughing gets louder “ERES TU PAPA ??”  Y/N then gets to the top of the tower and gasps seeing her beloved father inside a dungeon. She throws the stick to one side and places the candelabra on a nearby shelf and places it there. Y/N then gets on her knees as she looks at her father in relief after searching for him “Oh papa, que paso?? what happened to you, your hands are ice cold..” she says holding him tightly through the metal bars. Mauricio looks at her in awe and simply says “how did you even find me ?” 

“That doesn’t matter, we need to get you home !” 

“Y/N please…listen to me it’s not safe here, you must leave at once! This castle is alive !” he says in a whisper, tightly holding onto Y/N’s hands. Y/N looked at him confused until she heard a deep growl echoing in the distance. She grabs her stick once more from the floor and looks around the dungeon. She firmly grips onto the piece of thick wood, as she gains the courage to look around and protect herself and her father. “Who’s there, WHO ARE YOU ?”

“Who Are YOU?” 

The voice of a man echoes throughout the dungeon, his silhouette appearing in the distance. “I’ve come for my father..” Y/N says with determination in her voice. The sound of someone coming down the stairs is heard in the dark dungeon. “Your Father….is a thief”. Enraged, Y/N yelled out “LIAR!” The silhouette has now fully come down the stairs and standing before her, his silhouette still only seen “He stole a rose..” Y/N raises an eyebrow appalled at his words “I asked for the rose, punish me not him !” Mauricio looks at his daughter and shakes his head “No, Y/N don’t… he means forever, apparently that’s what happens around here cuando uno elige una bendita rosa” 

Y/N even more appalled turned to her father and back to the silhouette “A life sentence for a flower ?” A loud roar is heard as it approaches her even more, she steps back a little but not entirely to stand her ground despite the small shivers down her leg. “I received eternal damnation for one” the figure said, the growl in his voice becoming deeper. “Then take me instead” The figure growls and looks away and angrily says “YOU-” his expression then softly changes as he was shocked at how willing she was. “Tú....Tú tomarías su lugar?”

Y/N bites her lip and nods a whimper coming from her lips releases in her voice “If I did…would you let him go ?” The silhouette’s voice became a bit softer but still gruff in its dominant position “Yes, but you must promise to stay here forever” he says. Y/N looks down and blinks thinking of what to do next, she notices there’s a light right between them, separating the two from fully seeing each other. “Come into the light” she demands. The silhouette becomes smaller as she starts to see two large paws, she then looks up to see not a man but a beast with the horns of a goat, a thick mane that covered his entire body and crimson red eyes that peered into hers.  Y/N covers her mouth in shock and turns to her father dropping the stick yet again to hold his hands. “No, Y/N to te puedo permitir que hagas esto” 

Y/N kisses her father’s hands and approaches the Beast, her voice faltering to a whisper “you have my word..” The Beast then growls and opens the door dragging Mauricio out and pushing Y/N in, not even letting the two share a proper departure. He then drags Mauricio all the way out of the castle and throws him inside a carriage “Take him to the village” Mauricio cries out to him “SPARE MY DAUGHTER PLEASE!” The Beast ignores him and growls as he closes the carriage door “She’s no longer your concern…” Mauricio cries out to him to let him out, but The Beast was already walking back inside his castle. 

After a moment, The Beast is seen walking back inside the castle on all fours with an annoyed expression on his face. Miles had already hopped down halfway to meet him. “So, Uh Sir ?” 

“WHAT” the Beast growled out. Miles cowered a bit but then adjusted himself “soo uh since the girl is going to stay with us for quite some time, erm umm” he rubs his other two candles together “I was thinking that y’know you wanted too uhh, bring her to a more comfortable room” he says with a sheepish smile. The Beast growls at him and keeps walking up the stairs ignoring what he said. “Or not” Miles says. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Up in the tower after a week ….

Y/N wept as she whispered comforting words to herself. She thought about all of those times with her father, how he told her that home is where the heart is. But she wasn’t home, she was lonely and locked away. Her face drained as she thought of making the tiny dungeon her home, tears kept on spilling out as she thought about her poor father, all alone with nobody to lean onto in her terrible village.

She then sees a shadow loom over her and notices its The Beast. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye..I’ll never see him again..” her tears taint her cheeks that have been stained from the grime of the dungeon. “I-I’l never..see h-him again..” she says in between sobs. The Beast then looks at Y/N and a bit of guilt plagues his mind. He scratches his head and then considers what Miles told him earlier.. “I’ll show you to your room..” he says softly as he walks out the dungeon. 

“My room? But I thought -” 

“You, YOU wanna stay in the tower ?” 

“No..” she says softly.

 “Then follow me..” The Beast says.

The Beast then guides her out of the tower and back into the castle, taking Miles with him along the way so that he could light up the hallways. As Y/N is escorted, she looks around the castle and its statues and notices how dark and lonely the place seemed to be. Her eyes stare fearfully at a statue of a hideous gargoyle and speeds up to catch up with The Beast. 

The Beast heard her gasp and looked behind to see a single tear falling down her cheek, he looked back in his direction as he felt a bit more guiltier. “You should say something to her y’know” Miles says softly. The Beast nodded and turned to her “I..uhh…I hope you like it here” he looked back at Miles to see if it was ok. Miles then looks at him encouraging him to say a bit more. “The castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you would like…except the west wing.” Y/N’s curiosity perks up and she asks “what’s in the west wing ?” He growled out “IT'S FORBIDDEN”. His voice echoed out into the empty halls of the castle. He then takes her to a suite and opens the door for her. “If you need anything…my servants will attend you.” Y/N walks in and looks around the room. She then turns back to him and softly asks “but what’s your name ?” The Beast looks down as he didn’t want to remember his name, as he isn’t human or anything similar to his name. “It’s Miguel..”

Y/N nods as she looks back to the room and looks around. Miles then in a corner of Miguel’s viewpoint whispers “dinner, go invite her to dinner” Miguel nods and he tries to find the best way to speak to her “YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER…Th-THAT”S NOT A REQUEST” he says gruffly as he slammed the door. Y/N in shock of his words looked back at the closed door and back to the room. Spotting the bed she runs towards it and throws herself onto the pillows and cries her heart out. She hasn’t even realized that it has already started snowing outside signifying the start of winter.

About a couple of hours later, There was a soft knocking on the door. Y/N who was too busy crying hears it and softly says “who is it ?” She then hears a man’s voice “Its, Peter” Y/N approaches the door and quietly opens it and peers outside. She didn’t see anyone until she saw a serving cart with a tea pot and a small cup. “Oh wow you’re very pretty ma’am” he says politely with a smile. “I thought you would like a small cup of tea” Y/N backs up surprised at the sight and bumps into the wardrobe. Hearing a voice from the wardrobe she looks at it in shock “ooh, watch it ‘ere mate” Y/N backs up to her bed and sits down surprised. “B-but, this is impossible!” 

“I know mate, but ‘ere we are. Oh and the name’s Hobie” Y/N looks around in awe and surprise and just sits, processing the whole situation. The little teacup then spoke, “I told you she was pretty daddy!” Peter chuckles and pours some tea into his daughter “alrighty May, go and hand it to her, gently without spilling” Mayday happily hops to Y/N and waits for her to pick her up. “Why… Thank You” Y/N takes it softly. She then takes a sip of the tea and hums softly, enjoying the taste. “Wanna see me do a trick ??” Mayday then giggles as she breathes in and blows bubbles into the tea. She gets scolded quickly by her father though.

Peter chuckles and looks at Y/N. “Y’know, that took guts kid,” Hobie nods and agrees with him “the whole castle’s buzzin ‘bout it.” Y/N sighs in disappointment “but, I’ve lost my father, my dreams, I’ve lost almost everything..” Peter smiles and gives her a warm smile “aww, don’t worry kid, things always turn out better in the end.” Peter then realizes that he’s still supposed to be in the kitchen “oh crap, i forgot i’m supposed to be helping in the kitchen.. Anyways it was lovely meeting you” he says as the serving table wheels away from her room and leaves.

“Well now, let's get somefink good for youse to get dressed for the old geezer ‘ere.” Hobie then opens his drawers and sees some moths fly out “m’bad dovey” He then pulls out a nice dress for her and says “ ‘ere ya go, somefink pretty for you dovey” Y/N looks at the dress and smiles softly “oh, that’s very kind of you Hobie, but i’m not going to dinner” Hobie then shrugs and puts the dress back inside his drawers “aight then, youse definitely gonna make that geezer more laughable” he says. A small pattern is heard walking inside the room, Jess walked in and took a breath. “Come on honey, dinner’s waiting” she says trying to lighten up the mood. 

Down at the dining table however, Miguel is pacing back and forth anxiously waiting for Y/N’s arrival. He then growls annoyed “What’s taking her so long ....I told her to come down…” He then looks at Miles and a smaller candle who’s named Lyla. “aww come on Miguel, you do realize that she’s literally lost her freedom and her dad like last week” Lyla says, stating the obvious. Miles then nods and says “soo uhh, Sir, Haven’t you thought that this girl.. Might be the one who could break the spell ?” MIguel looks up to the two candles “OF COURSE I HAVE..I’M NOT STUPID” Miles then smiles and says “Then you fall in love with her, sheee falls in love with you, and POOF! We’re human! We should be back to normal by midnight !” he says with a confident smile. Peter on the table however, digresses on the situation. “Miles buddy, it's not that easy y’know… these things take time” Miles then frowns and softly says “but, Peter ...the rose is already starting to wilt..” 

Miguel then looks down and sits on all fours and grumbles “Oh, it’s no use..” he runs a paw through his large mane “it's just that she’s just so beautiful, and i’m well.. WELL LOOK AT ME” he says with a snarl. Peter then sighs and looks at Miguel “aww come on Miguel, you have to help her see through all of that” Miguel then growls lowly “I don’t know how” he says as his ears flatten to the sides. Lyla then grins and pitches in “then how about a quick lesson on how to be a gentleman 101: Sit up and try to be kind.” Peter smiles and also shares a few thoughts “oh then don’t forget to give her a sweet smile, come one show me one Migs” Miguel then proceeds to give the most toothiest and quite horrible smile, even Lyla had to step back a little out of surprise. “Now don’t scare her, charm her” Peter says. Miles then blurted out “Oh, OH and impress her with your intelligence!” Miguel looks at all four of them trying to absorb the information, his mind whirling at almost everything that he has to do, that just seemed utterly impossible. The quartet continued to bombard him with a whole bunch of manners until they all said at the same time “and the most important of all, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER!!!” Miguel wipes his face from the small bead of sweat that was forming. 

Then, the sound of a door is heard opening, Miguel looks up in anticipation but is met with only Jess coming inside. “SO, evening everyone..” she says nervously. Miguel then raises an eyebrow “Well ? where is she ?” Jess takes a deep breath in, just knowing how Miguel is definitely going to react “soo, she’s…yea she’s not coming”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT ??!!!!”

Outraged, Miguel leaves the dining room and runs as quickly as his legs and hind legs could take him, all the way upstairs and into the east wing. Peter yells out “Nononono, WAIT MIGUEL !” 

Miguel manages to outrun them and make it to Y/N’S door and basically smacks it as hard as he could “ I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO COME DOWN FOR DINNER” y/n behind the door responds to him “I’m not coming” she says with a little huff in her voice. Miles, Lyla, Peter, and Jess just facepalm and shake their heads in disappointment. A sigh was even heard from behind Miguel from the huge letdown. “YOU BETTER COME OUT, OR I’M- YO VOY…VOY A ROMPER LA BENDITA PUERTA !”

Miles whistled and just said “so, just a quick suggestion , but uh….that really isn’t the best way to impress a girl..” Jess nods and sighs “Miguel just for once, can you actually just be polite to her?” Miguel gestured to the door “But, she is being so DIFFICULT”  Peter then comes beside him and softly says “gently Miguel, you’re spooking her..” Miguel groans and lowers his tone at the door “Will you come down for dinner ?” he closes his eyes hoping that she would say yes to this tone in his voice. “No!” Y/N says. 

Miguel’s eyes widened and his ears shot up in surprise and he gave a look pointing to the door as he tried to prove his point to the servants. Miles then says “suavemente y gentilmente…” 

Miguel then takes a deep breath and tries again, “It would give me a great pleasure, if you would come out and join me for dinner.” He looks up to the door slightly hoping that she would come out this time…although his temper is starting to boil. 

Jess coughs “COUGH- we say please- COUGH” 

Miguel rolls his eyes and softly says please

Y/N simply says “NO, THANK YOU !” Everyone watching the interaction watches in shock as they know he’s going to blow. 

Miguel then belts out “YOU CAN’T STAY IN THERE FOREVER”. 

Y/N on the other side of the door yells out “QUE SI!”

Miguel snarls and roars out “FINE THEN GO STARVE FOR ALL I CARE PINCHE DESGRACIADA”

He looks down to his servants “IF she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all” Miguel then growls out and runs off away to his room into the west wing. He opens the door annoyed and just grumbles to himself “I ask nicely but she refuses, like que quiere?? que yo hago? BEG ??” In a flurry of rage, he goes to a table where the enchanted rose is encased in a glass dome. Beside it is his magic mirror that was gifted by the enchantress. Miguel then grabs his magic mirror and looks into it “ensename la niña” 

The mirror then glows a greenish blue color and shows him y/n sitting in bed being comforted by Hobie. “Aww come on Dovie, the old bloke ain't so bad..” Y/N however was sitting in bed dejected and not too convinced. “I don’t want to though...I don’t even want to do anything with him!”  Miguel, shocked, puts down the mirror as he feels that same familiar feeling of hopelessness takes over his mind “who am I fooling…she’ll never see me as anything other than .... than a monster” he says as his voice shakes. He looks at the rose and sees a petal that slowly fell down and wither making the castle shake and crumble a bit.

“It’s hopeless…”

taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n, @badbishsblog, @faimmm, @opalwitchart,

[alottiegoingon]

peanuts

lottie matthews x gn!reader

summary: the one where you bring pb&j sandwiches for lottie everyday since you were 9.

warnings: so much fluffiness i might throw up, short silly fic, lottie and reader are childhood friends and secretly in love, no crash, lottie has a bad relationship with her parents, cute little unexpected ending i guess?, english mistakes, not proofread

you and lottie were friends since you were nine years old.

you remember being inside the car with your parents when you moved to new jersey. the roads were bumpy before you could make it to the city of wiskayok. still, you insisted on carrying a book with you during the entire trip, knowing that you would feel nauseous in no time. your parents warned you but, as the quiet and moody kid that didn't want to move, you ignored their advice.

trying to focus on anything else besides your upset stomach, you place the book titled "matilda" by roald dahl, in perfect condition, by your side and decide to enjoy the view outside as the car moves along from the backseat. it wasn't a lifesaver but it was better than feeling your head heavy as you read the tiny words in the paper.

the houses were all the same. boring, lifeless and with a few flowers or bushes outside just to bring some color. what a lame city, you thought. no colorful houses, fun playgrounds or a nice park in sight. but that changed at the exact same moment as you saw lottie's house. a perfect planned garden in the front and impeccably painted walls capable of telling anyone that the house was pretty, yes, but the people living inside of it were superior. liking or not, the house was pretty but not as far pretty as her.

lottie was upstairs in the window of her bedroom when you saw her, you couldn't decide if she was staring outside like she was waiting for something or just watching people go by as if she was trapped inside. either way, she waved at you and, hesitantly, you waved back.

the following years consisted in sleepovers, movie nights and little discussions in the book club you two invented. safe to say that you became best friends almost too immediately.

lottie was a loner when she was home with no one to watch her except for a old lady that worked for the matthew's as a housekeeper or a nanny. you never knew and she was scary. playing pranks on her was almost a daily occurrence and an invention of lottie. like dyeing her clothes pink or switching salt and sugar and watching the distorted face of pure horror and agony in lottie's parents faces during dinner, when they invited you over. you and lottie had to cover your mouth or look down to not laugh but couldn't ever not exchange glances across the table.

her parents knew, of course. "your parents must be waiting for you. it's late isn't it?" was lottie's moms way of telling you to leave. you would say goodbye to lottie and hold her hand extra tight, knowing that the second the door closed behind you, you would hear her parents scolding her. you could see a curious mix between fear and excitement in her eyes when you were about to leave and you thought that that would be the last time she would prank that poor lady, but no. she would always come up with something new. deep down you knew that she was just craving attention from her parents and she would be glad to accept some mean words from them if it meant that they would talk to her instead of disappearing in work.

every day after the pranks were the same. the next morning, you showed up at school with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. one for you and the other one for lottie, of course. maybe it was your way of supporting her as you could. as a nine year old, peanut butter sandwiches were your favorite and you would always eat them if you were feeling sad. you never knew why she would eat it entirely and as fast as she could, kiss your cheek and run away, telling you she was late. it was lunch time and she was nine. what could she possibly be late for?

but the smile on her face exposing her teeth shaped like little fangs every single time she saw you with a simple extra sandwich on hands made just for her, became your new favorite thing in the world.

during your teenage years, nothing changed. almost nothing. lottie was still a loner at home but was kind of a popular girl at school. not like your other friend jackie, but still popular. you and lottie tried for the wiskayok high yellowjackets; a girl's soccer team. you both made it to the team and quickly made some new friendships but nothing as close as what you two had. you were popular as well, sure, but you didn't care about that. it took you a few weeks to realize that jackie was popular because of her personality. you, lottie and other girls were popular because you were on the team.

regardless, after every unsuccessful exam, every bad moment with lottie's parents, every failed practice day, you were right by her side holding a sandwich with silly drawings made out of peanut butter and jelly. despite being best friends, you were both changing. different hair, different ways of dressing, different ways to look at each other. the only thing that never truly changed was the smile on lottie's lips and it was exactly like how you remember from when you were nine.

there was that one day when lottie had an awful day at practice after a fight with her parents last night and she was sitting on the aluminun bench in the locker room. she had her head down and her dark curls styled in low pigtails.

"hi." you sit by her side. she looks up and you notice her red eyes. "hi." she whispers. lottie would never let people see her in vulnerable moments but near you, she wouldn't hide a thing.

"should i go to your house in the middle of the night and dye your parents clothes pink like when we were kids?" your voice was playful but you knew that if the answer was yes, you would happily do it.

you feel your heart beating faster as you hear lottie's breathy laugh and feel proud of yourself for making her happy now. then, in a few seconds, the weak smile faded and the locker room fell into silence.

"do you think i'm a freak?" her words make your heart shatter. lottie would tell you everything, except from that one big secret thing that she was forbidden to talk about by her parents. you never mentioned it after noticing how she would get uncomfortable. or after noticing how her parents would always change the conversation to something else if she was blabbing too much. or when you saw a small orange bottle with pills inside with a label that said "charlotte matthews".

you take a moment to think of something to say until you realize that there was no right thing. lottie just wanted support. she needed your support. "i think you are strong." you say. you knew that she didn't have a choice, she had to be strong. but yet, it was something you admired in her.

"lott, i don't know what is happening and i won't ever force you to tell me. but i know you for years now and i know what you are." she remains quiet but at least she's still looking at you.

"you are so smart. brilliant, actually. you are great at soccer, you have an amazing fashion sense" you joke "a heart of gold."

"and you are beatiful."

lottie says nothing but you can see a subtle spark of relief in her eyes. instead, she hops closer to you and rest her head on your shoulder. you do the same, gently laying your head on top of hers. you were staring at that same old boring blue locker in front of you when you feel lottie's hand grabbing yours. you feel nothing but euphoria when she intertwined your fingers together as your hands were placed between you two.

your smile was so wide that you were actually happy that lottie couldn't see you. and you couldn't see her face as well but something was telling you that she was also smiling while her thumb was Involuntarily caressing your hand. you weren't sure if that was something that best friends did, at least not in such an intimate way. but you were hoping that it meant something more.

you hear steps getting louder and realize that practice was over and the girls were coming to change clothes. unanimously, you two distance yourselves from each other just in time and, taking a quick glance at lottie, you see her face entirely red.

"are you okay, lottie? we were worried. jackie said that she can dismiss you tomorrow." shauna gets closer to you two, touching lottie's shoulder and squeezing it softly in reassurance.

"it's okay. i'm all good." she looks up and smiles at her friend.

you stand up and grab your backpack, pulling out a small paper bag with something unmistakable inside. lottie and shauna look at you and still feeling a bit shaky, you handle it to lottie with a shy smirk and lots of mumble.

"peanut butter sandwich. to make you feel better, you know the drill, right?" you laugh awkwardly and lottie's cheeks that were just going back to its original color, got pinkish again. the same old smile was also there.

"thank you. movie night tonight?" she asks full of hope.

"absolutely. can't wait to watch drew barrymore in scream." you nod excitedly. later that night you would find out that she would only appear in the screen for ten minutes and lottie would make fun of you for that.

after you left, shauna tapped lottie's shoulder to catch her attention. she looked at shauna but her hands were carefully holding the paper bag against her body as if she was taking care of something precious.

"i thought you were allergic to peanuts?" shauna furrows her brows.

"yeah. but it's their favorite."

[ineffabildaddy]

there is no other way to say it (E, 1.5k) - a good omens ficlet by ineffabildaddy

happy birthday @brenna! here's a little gift for you, which is also available to read on ao3 as linked above!

summary: Aziraphale considers the history of the word 'mine', and what it means to him.

1,503 words. cw for sexual content

comments and reblogs are treasured!

-

Before the beginning, the word 'mine' did not exist.

After all, nothing belonged to any of us angels, not really. Even our names - like our robes, and our responsibilities - could be rescinded, or indeed changed, at any time.

If an individual identity was not permitted under any circumstances, then anything which could be described as 'yours', whether physical, emotional, or philosophical, was certainly out of the question. There was simply no need for such a word, so it hadn't been invented yet.

Because we were all working for a common cause, no one had conceived of competing with one another. Of course, there was an established hierarchy, but the angels further up the food chain were even more afraid to stand out than the riffraff. So, there was never a cry or a plea for victory to be mine, as it were. And if there was no sense of competition, there was also no plotting or planning or scheming or machinating, which meant the phrase vengeance shall be mine would not have come in handy, either. All told, we managed perfectly well without the word, myself included.

Until you.

I met you, once, before it all went sideways. We crossed paths only briefly, but during our encounter I found myself grasping for something that I couldn't quite reach. A space in my mind which seemed reserved for something yet to come, something I flew towards at full pace for what felt like hours without actually drawing any closer to it.

After we parted, I swiftly forgot about the blank canvas I had coveted, this desire to know something that couldn't be known. I judged that this fight was destined for another.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I realised the error of my judgement on a singularly hot afternoon in Eden. I was restless, that day, and I felt as if I should search for something to quell my boredom; what, precisely, I didn't know. I was hoping the object of my pursuit would become clear to me once I had found it, and so I flew down from my position guarding the wall and padded barefoot through the garden with no particular path in mind.

The leaves shooting out and up from the trees either side of me were sticky and heavy with condensation, while the sun dazzled so brightly I had no choice but to take cover behind a tall shrub as I approached the edge of a clearing. Shielding my eyes from the light's unrelenting glare with a flattened hand hovering over my forehead, I could make out your figure lounging against a boulder in the full heat of the sun. Your oval pupils were blown wide, and I had never seen a blaze so fierce as the one which, at that moment, swiftly rippled back and forth across your serpentine irises. You were tucking a crimson strand of hair behind the slightly sunburned tip of your ear, laughing low and sleek and textured; I would have compared the sound of your voice to velvet, had I known that such a luxurious fabric would exist sometime in the future.

After tearing my gaze from your form with great resolve, I shifted my focus towards the left and discovered you were conversing with Eve. A longer look around the area confirmed that Adam was nowhere to be found, which puzzled me, because he almost never left his counterpart's side. Abstractly, I wondered what he was doing, and then what Eve could possibly be saying to keep you so enrapt and amused and fascinated all at once.

Then it came. This thought I had never had before. It was suddenly settled in my mind, as if it had been there all along, taking root calmly within me, refusing to parade itself around like the myriad of other new concepts and feelings I had learned since arriving on Earth a short time earlier.

Mine, the thought said, as if it possessed the power to speak in and of itself. Only once, not so quickly that I couldn't memorise it but not slowly enough for me to truly grasp its true nature. And then it was quiet inside me again, and I tilted my head to the skies, squinting in the face of the bulbous star lighting the Earth as if God would peep out from beyond it and explain what I had just experienced.

Had God planted this word in my head? Had God sent it down to me because I was destined to be the first creature on Earth who used it?

If there was anything I had learned over the course of my fragile existence, it was that there were no accidents. Not where God was concerned, and in those days, God was concerned with, well... everything. This couldn't possibly have been random, and yet I couldn't make sense of it.

I snuck another glance at you, searing, furtive. Eve was sauntering away, and your eyelids were drooping languidly shut once you had reclined on the boulder. My footfall was light as a feather as I turned on my heel and crept back towards my post.

Three hours later, I returned. Twilight had fallen over Eden, and I supposed the rest of the world, too, though it felt at that time as if the world ended exactly where the scorching desert began. You hadn't moved from your perch, though your eyes were open, now, as you sat cross-legged, prising flecks of dirt from your fingernails.

I stood beside you. I asked you if you knew of the word 'mine', and if so, what it meant. You shook your head and replied, "I'll tell you something I do know. Something Eve told me today."

Before I could manoeuvre the subject back to its intended course, you began. I hadn't blushed since the day you lit up the stars, but, my, did I blush then.

Though we didn't really know what it was for, we both agreed there was no harm in trying it. So we did, following the method Eve had related to you. Your back thumped lightly against the long shoots of grass covering the earth as you lay down beside the boulder, my flaming sword resting above your head, and you were kind enough to hold the hem of my robe up for me, pressing a hand to the swell of my stomach while I eased the cock God had lovingly made for me into your slick cunt. You talked me through the details, urging me to move within you, to withdraw and then spear you again and nudge you right there until you gasped so sharply into the night air it gave a sleeping bird a fright, the sweet crescents of your tits trembling violently beneath your clothes.

There it was again, while I spilled my gold-flecked essence into the tight, hot core of you. Mine. I wanted to say it aloud this time, but words failed me while we pulsed in harmony with one another.

The next day, you finally did what you had come to Eden to do - that is, make some trouble - and everything changed. I wanted to go over what had happened the previous night, to confess that I still couldn't banish that elusive word from my mind, but we knew Heaven and Hell were watching, so we talked of other things instead. Flaming swords, fruit trees, important things that we rightfully should have been discussing.

It just felt terribly urgent, this problem I had. Selfishly, it felt more important, more tangible, than good or evil or original sin. But before I knew it, we were going our separate ways, and I was bound to my independent duties just as intensely as you were bound to yours.

By the time I learned what mine meant, it was far too late for me to act upon my newfound knowledge. Long gone were the days when we were safely sequestered in the garden, with all time in the world ahead of us and the innocence to proclaim we didn't really know what we were doing.

But then I ran into you again, years later. You had new things to show me, and show me you did, after night fell over the plains of Mesopotamia.

When I slid the thick head of my cock gently out of your warm mouth, stuttering a breathless thank you, you smiled, paying no mind to the droplets of gold and white sheening your reddened lips.

"The pleasure's all mine," you said, and even in those tumultuous times, I was still certain that there were no accidents.

It occurred to me, then, that perhaps you did have the answer that afternoon in Eden, when I asked you the meaning of the word. Perhaps your conversational pivot was your attempt to show me you understood it the only way you knew how.

That word wasn't meant for us, back in those days. But God did what she does best, and pretended not to notice.

[theladyofshalott1989]

Synopsis: Read the epic tale of Damien Evans, a young orphan (and former Squib), who, through numerous trials and tribulations, learns that a true wizard isn’t measured by the power of his magic, or the seeming lack thereof, but by the strength of his heart.

Featuring… the Keepers as the Muses, the Founders of Hogwarts as the Gods, Death as the Fates, Ranrok and Rookwood as Pain and Panic, Professor Fig as Philoctetes, and last, but certainly not least, Sebastian Sallow as Megara, everyone’s favorite damsel in distress.

COMPLETE

Word Count: 36,441

⚡ [ Wattpad Link ] ⚡ [ AO3 Link ] ⚡

A short excerpt from Ch. 5: "I Won’t Say I’m In Love (Or, Sebastian’s a Goner)" follows:

"So, this is what heroes do on their days off," Sebastian said, inching closer to Damien, each step enveloping him deeper in the fresh scent of the great outdoors, along with a subtle hint of something sweet---perhaps Damien had spent time in the many gardens that surrounded the castle today. Sebastian fought the urge to breathe in deeply, to immerse himself in the intoxicating scent of this young wizard, Damien, Sebastian's Goldenboy.

No, stop! Stop that, Sebastian! He chastised himself fiercely. Sebastian couldn't fall in love with this boy: not now, not ever. His freedom was more important. He could pretend---he had to pretend---but he'd already resolved not to get tangled in any more emotional connections. Look where that had led him before: expelled from Hogwarts, his twin sister and his best friend gone, Sebastian, shunned and exiled, working for Salazar Slytherin himself. Anyway, Damien deserved better.

"I'm no hero," Damien said, toeing the floor with his boot.

Sebastian blinked, suddenly aware of the heat rising in his chest. What was this feeling, so sudden and new?

"Sure you are," he said, mostly to tamp down his confusion, but also because it was true. "Everybody at Hogwarts, everybody in Scotland, I presume, thinks you're the greatest thing since wand holsters were invented---"

He would have gone on, but Damien cut in. "I know." He glanced back up shyly, fiddling with the clasp of his robe. Sebastian couldn't look away. "It's... it's crazy, you know. I can't go anywhere without being mobbed, I mean---"

Aha! Here was Sebastian's chance. He plowed forward before he could second-guess himself. "You sound like you could use a break." He brought his hand up, lifting it to Damien's shoulder and clasping it lightly. Damien's eyes widened at the touch, but he didn't pull away, so Sebastian kept his hand there, savoring the proximity between them.

Oh yes, the sweetness in Damien's scent was definitely flowers. Daffodils. Probably of the honking variety. They may be loud, but it couldn't be denied they had a heady, stimulating aroma.

"Think that professor of yours would lose his wand if you disappeared for a Butterbeer or two this afternoon?"

"A Butterbeer or two?" Damien repeated, his jaw visibly slackening.

"Yes, at the Three Broomsticks. Sirona's an old friend. I could get us a discount, although... your presence alone would probably guarantee us one regardless."

Damien chuckled nervously. "I don't know... Fig's got the rest of my day scheduled out."

Sebastian withdrew his hand and waved it around in the air. "Ah, Fig, Shmig. Just stick close to me. A simple Disillusionment Charm, and we'll be gone before anyone knows we were here."

For the briefest of moments, Sebastian thought his cavalier, devil-may-care attitude hadn't worked. But then, the apples of Damien's cheeks tinged pink. He took a breath, then nodded.

Perfect.

Sebastian grabbed Damien's hand before they both vanished from each other's sight. At least, that's what he told himself. He gave Damien's hand a quick squeeze, just to ensure Damien was ready---no other reason, of course---then Disillusioned himself and made his way toward the exit, Damien's fingers still laced through his.

Sebastian may not permit himself to believe it, but as smitten as he was with Goldenboy, he also couldn't shake the strangest feeling that Damien was going to be the death of him. But he was suddenly so warm and fuzzy inside that the thought fled his mind. Funny sensation, that.

"Should we tell them, Percival?"

Percival clicked his tongue. "Now, now, Niamh. That would be a spoiler. Mum's the word."

"Fine."

I guess we'll merely leave you with this: Sebastian may or may not have been correct.

[happyhauntt]

stay, i pray you — nikolai lantsov.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: nikolai has a decision to make. anya makes it for him.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: takes place during seige & storm just after sturmhond reveals himself to be nikolai. angst, hurt/no comfort, pre-established relationship. this one's gonna hurt.

─── word count: 2.1k.

     "I've had an idea."

     The military encampment at Kribirsk is as familiar to Anya as the freckles on Nikolai's nose, the garden of her father's estate, the brittle ache of her injured knee. Crashing the Hummingbird had not been part of the plan — and her body had certainly not appreciated the impromptu swim in the nearby lake — but the First Army officers had recognised her and Nikolai, affording them all the honours of their stations and escorting them to the commander's tent.

     Anya hadn't felt all that comfortable with it. She may have been Lieutenant Corporal before her discharge, but it has become increasingly difficult to love the army that raised her while it serves the country that abandoned her. General Raevsky had once been her commanding officer. She and Nikolai had served under him on the northern border, oh, how many years ago now?

They'd both been green as grass, infantry grunts who'd never handled a rifle, never fired a shot or seen a battlefield begin to bleed. Raevsky greeted her like an old friend when they stumbled onto shore, asked how she was fairing as if he hadn't seen her only a few months ago, before she helped the Sun Summoner flee Ravka by smuggling her onto a ship bound for Novyi Zem.

     The tent Anya finds herself in is small but serviceable, with clean, fresh clothes laid out on the bed and a small plate of food waiting on the table. Nikolai disappeared shortly after their arrival, most likely to offer up an explanation to the commanders, but when he finally reappears, he finds Anya combing out the knots of her damp hair with her fingers, changed into a clean, loose shirt and army-issue trousers. She feels as if she never left the army and the thought makes her nauseous.

     "You have an idea?" She raises an eyebrow at him as he steps tentatively inside, allowing the tent flap to fall closed behind him. A playful smirk dances over her face. "Given that your last idea sent us crash-landing into a lake, I must admit I feel a little apprehensive."

     He huffs at her, an almost-chuckle that sends alarm bells ringing in her mind. A jibe like that would usually send him on a ranting spiral, fussing all about how his invention hadn’t been the reason they crashed and had, actually, worked exactly as intended for the majority of their journey.

     Teasing him is easy, and the way he smiles when she does sends warmth pouring through her. Seeing him so subdued is… troubling, to say the least. He hangs up his sword and crosses the tent to perch on the edge of her bed. His eyes remain fixed on the floor the whole time.

     Kneeling in front of him, she allows her fingers to graze over the bruise blossoming on his cheek. His eyes fall closed for a moment. "She really got you, didn't she? Our dear Sun Summoner has a mean right hook."

     "Believe me, I know. Scrappy little thing." Nikolai flexes his jaw and opens his eyes, and all once, Anya knows. It's written in the tiny lines between his brows and the quirk of his mouth and the ache in his eyes.

     "What is it?" she murmurs. Her fingers linger on his face, and he leans into the warmth of her, just slightly. Her knee protests, but she doesn't dare try to stand up. "What's happened?"

     He swallows roughly. "I've told you before, haven't I, about coming back here and helping Ravka. About fixing it before it's too late."

     Whispered conversations in a dimly-lit cabin flutter through her mind. Wishes pressed against her skin with kisses, hopes and dreams caught up in a lover's embrace. I could be better than Vasily, he'd said, and she had believed that, the way she believed the sun would rise in the morning. I could save Ravka.

     She hadn't told him the truth, then. She'd taken his dreams and folded them up into her own chest, to keep safe beside her heart, but she hadn't wanted it the way he did. Anya would sooner see Ravka burn. She cannot bring herself to feel mercy, not where this Saints-forsaken country is concerned. Not after it abandoned her when she needed it most.

     Now, she nods. A damp tendril of hair falls past her eyes. "I remember. You said you... you would find a way to convince Vasily to step aside, and your father would make you the heir. But it wasn't a plan. You said you didn't know how you'd do it, yet. Just that you wished you could."

     She may never forget it. The panic that struck her, bone-deep. The way his ambitions have haunted her ever since. He may not have known it then, but a ticking clock had been set that day. Anya never knew when their time would run out. Only that she would never be ready for it.

     He smiles, now. A rueful thing. There is no need to hide with her, no need to put on that winsome devil-may-care act he wears like armour. She is not a politician he can sway to his side, nor a danger he can charm his way out of, and yet he smiles at her. She is so beautiful, and soft, and she's not wearing her armour, either. Not here, not with him. There is nothing to smile about, and in a few moments it will all be different, but right now she is his, so he has to smile. He has to.

     He may weep, otherwise.

     "Kolya." Her voice is so quiet, barely more than a whisper, and he is so sure that she knows, already, without him having to breathe a word.

     His throat goes horribly tight, an invisible hand wrapped tight around his windpipe, as if that will stop his confession. His eyes flit to the roof for a moment. They start to sting.

     "Alina's power is the key to Ravka's survival," he says. Every word feels like lead on his tongue. "The Apparat has turned her into a living Saint, and the people love her. If I'm to make a bid for the throne and convince Vasily to step aside, it can't just be that I'm the best man for the job. That won't matter. But an alliance with the Sun Summoner might sway the odds in my favour."

     Anya watches him for a long moment. He holds his breath as time stretches, and eternity seems to pass before she even blinks. She withdraws her hand, allowing it to rest lightly on his thigh. The absence of her touch lingering in his face burns like a fresh bullet wound.

     He wonders if you can die from missing someone who hasn't gone anywhere yet.

     "An alliance with Alina." Anya narrows her eyes as the pieces click together in her mind." You mean—"

     "I'm going to ask her to marry me." His throat feels rough as sandpaper. "A political marriage, in name only. The game has changed and Alina is the only one who can level the playing field."

     He keeps talking, but Anya can hardly hear him. Her brain began to buzz with white noise the moment she heard the word marriage, as if her skull is home to a thousand angry wasps and someone suddenly decided to shake the nest. She can feel her blood rushing in her ears, her heartbeat thudding in her throat, but she doesn't dare give herself away.

     Anya Kamenev is a soldier, but she is also a future duchess. Her mother would be proud to learn that all those etiquette lessons didn't go to waste. Summoning a decade of training, her old governess' instructions rattling through her mind, her face remains delicate and empty. Not a muscle twitch or a quiver of her lip, not a hint of sorrow flashing in her eyes. She might as well be carved from marble. Her heart sits in her chest like a stone.

     "Nastya." The nickname he gave her in their army days is salt in an open wound. Nikolai reaches for her, grasps her hands in his as if she is all that can anchor him to this world. "I don't know what to do."

     "Of course you do." Somehow her voice is gentle, even though she feels jagged at the edges, like touching her might make him bleed. An instinct tugs at her, to curl her fingers around his own and hold him just as tight, but she can't bring herself to move. "You wouldn't bring it up to me if you hadn't already thought it through. You're a clever man, Nikolai. The cleverest I know, and don't let that go to your head. You know what you have to do now. You just want my permission to do it."

     Is it crueller, somehow, to ask for permission? To hand over her heart, and the knife too, as if that will make it hurt less when he carves it from her chest?

     A wet laugh bubbles out of him. "Trust you to keep my ego in check even now, Anya."

     "Someone has to," she says. She heaves herself into a standing position, wincing as her knee cracks and tiny bolts of lightning spike up her leg. "Although I think Alina will do a brilliant job. I don't mind handing over that responsibility to her."

     "Don't." Nikolai is on his feet in a moment. One hand remains in hers, his grip tight as a vice, but the other curls around the back of her neck. His thumb brushes softly over her cheek. The warmth of it makes her shudder. "Don't say that like you're going anywhere. I'm not sure I can do any of this without you."

     "Of course you can," Anya murmurs. Saints, she isn't sure the torture she endured at the hands of Shu Han's scientists hurt this much. If she closes her eyes, she can almost believe he's taken a blade and gutted her right here, like a fish on the deck of his ship.

     A ragged breath tears out of him as he says, "Alright, perhaps I can. But I don't want to."

     When he kisses her, it doesn't feel like a kiss goodbye. It doesn't feel like their last kiss in a thousand. There's a ferocity to him as he clutches her, teeth clashing, but that doesn't change the truth of it. He can hold her as tightly as he wants, but they both know she has always been smoke in his hands.

     “I would give you anything,” he says against her mouth, pressed together like hands in prayer. She feels his breath stutter against her tongue, hitched with a sob he will not set free. “Name it. Palaces and jewels, the moon, a temple built in your name, the heads of every man who ever harmed you served on a silver platter. Name it and it’s yours. Just stay.”

     Your heart. The tear slides down her cheek unbidden, and he kisses it away as he has done a thousand times before. She catches his lips with her own and kisses him again, fingers tangled in tendrils of his hair, still rough with saltwater no matter how many times he washes it. Your heart, your hand, a life with you away from this Saints-forsaken country.

     She’ll stay. She will, because Anya is a soldier, and though she no longer has any loyalty to Ravka, she still believes in him. And there is no pain in the world that could hurt more than abandoning him now, no matter how much she wishes she could.

     “Anything.” His voice, barely a whisper, a plea to those forgotten saints who have never seen fit to bestow a miracle upon them. “Anything, my darling.”

     He sinks to his knees before her, presses his forehead to her stomach. She leans and kisses the crown of his scalp, lingering a moment to breathe in the salt and sea of him. Ravka will never know how lucky it is to have a prince so loyal. She doesn’t know what they’d done to earn such devotion.

     “I know.” Despite the tears, her voice is deceptively still. Your heart. But he had already sworn it to his country, long before he ever loved her. “I want the same as you, Nikolai; peace and prosperity for Ravka.”

     He snorts against her stomach. His arms wrap tightly around her middle. “Liar.”

     “Always.” Pushing him away would not be the worst torture she has endured, but she worries it will scar her far longer than any blade could.

[inchidentally]

https://www.tumblr.com/piastrisms/738775293993549824?source=share

I NEED YOUR ANALYSIS OF THIS VIDEO! PLEASE <3

okay listen this has spun me out into a whOLE thing so let's take another trip down a road I like to call Why is the Non-RPF Real Life Relationship between Oscar and Lando So Endearing and Boyish and Sweet:

so my absolute favorite thing about Lando's face when he's relaxed or in his natural element is how absolutely every. single. emotion. he's feeling is broadcast at equal volume. his vulnerability is a massive part of his charisma. but! he has to have the right habitat! streaming, Youtube, his lifelong friends - those are the right habitat.

F1 is not naturally the right habitat.

when Carlos found Lando on his proverbial driver's doorstep he did not know what to make of him and Lando was barely able to squeak out a few words around anyone new or when a camera was around. but! Carlos trained Lando into how to bounce a dynamic between the two of them just like he'd been doing with his last awkward baby, Max. interestingly Max was much more excitable and eager to please of the two and Lando's intense shyness took a LOT of work to get past. but once Carlos had gotten the drift of Lando's super silly sense of humor it was smooth sailing. and then with Daniel it was even easier because half the time Daniel knew he was expected to carry the conversation. it's interesting because Lando allowed a bit of that old shyness to come back and it definitely disarmed Daniel a bit in a satisfying way. but thanks to those big personalities, Lando found his F1 self and even started to deal back and lead occasionally. of course DTS and a lot of media pilloried him for this because apparently what Carlos and Daniel do naturally is seen as snottish and bratty for him to do. the Youtube/streamer personality where he felt so safe did not at all translate onto other platforms and media.

so it hasn't been smooth sailing for Little Lando Norris to know how to be as a person in F1.

cut to 2023 and with the advent of Oscar we've seen a slow dismantling of Lando's F1 PR personality completely in his content with Oscar over the season. their very first unboxeds Lando was still wearing his guarded PR face and assuming he should lead and carry all the content. it was still sort of around for the Jenga/Garden Games challenges but had started to soften around the Austin filming (including the Finish the Lyrics classics). at some point, Lando truly realized that Oscar would still be fond of him even when Lando was in a terrible, low blood sugar type mood (Tic Tac Toe etc) and oh wow!

their content could really just be Lando being whatever he was feeling that day/that moment and Oscar smiling and finding him funny/cute/fascinating! that was enough! he didn't even know that was allowed! (and maybe it wouldn't have been if Oscar wasn't there to bolster him)

and that's when we started getting unguarded, authentic Lando instead of entertaining Lando. and it's because Oscar was the person next to him representing all of us, trying to tell Lando that we just wanted to see him. we didn't care if he was 'on' or not. he's just an interesting outdoor cat we want to watch go about his life.

which is why we got Lando letting himself sit and stare right back at Oscar like this.

where we can see his expressions do that slow blossoming thing, and right in full view of just Oscar. it's the anti-DTS material because it isn't open to the camera and easy to manipulate. narrative television hates when two people go into quiet, subtle communication because it can't be made into a false dramatic arc. (trust me they'll invent one using chopped up footage and even more chopped up commentary lol they always do but it'll be uphill work)

but when you contrast this with the nonstop, quick back-and-forth Lando has with Carlos and Daniel it's where we pick up on the something that's so unique to Lando with Oscar. it's wrong and making way too big an assumption to say it's a closer friendship bc you can't quantify other people's friendships that way. but it's very, very different to those friendships. and the biggest difference that we on the outside can see is that Lando allows himself to determine exactly How He Will Be. and that might change from one minute to the next! and that doesn't always go down well with most people!

but every time, no matter what, Oscar smiles and laughs and everything Lando does is alright. he gets it. Lando means no harm and he's got a good, warm heart. if he likes you then that won't change just because his mood changes.

like their end of season message. Lando went from doing a great job summarizing his thoughts for the viewers, handed it over to Oscar and just... watched. didn't get bored and stare at the camera or off into space. I actually compiled just how often Lando spends staring openly at Oscar into one long gif lol:

he fully knows he's still on camera but he turns himself into a viewer instead of bouncing around and off of what Oscar is saying. Oscar gave him that, he can give it right back.

and there's no specific Lando-Oscar dynamic like there is Lando-Carlos and Lando-Daniel. hell, Lando's got a dynamic with just about anyone. except! Max F, Martin Garrix (and probably quite a few of his friendships that we're never actually even shown) and Oscar. with those people we see Lando be precisely whatever he's feeling at that moment because they'll either indulge it or enjoy it depending on how good or bad the mood is. if it's Lando, it's all good.

I feel like there's a commonality with those people of being quiet but strong as opposed to the big and bold of most of the F1 drivers on the grid. Max F absolutely has obvious similarities to Oscar (I still love how much he sided with Oscar when he watched the 'most likely to' video). I don't know a lot about Martin but it's literally a DJ's job to be enough apart from the crowd to read it and they set the energy passively through what they spin. Oscar is a fun guy who loves being around the people he cares about but he's never The Guy that it all turns around.

and for their own reasons, they find Lando inherently fascinating and lovable. whereas Lando has to inhabit Carlos', Daniel's, George's, etc etc worlds because they are in themselves The Guy Everyone's Watching just like Lando. Lando has to share. he has to figure it out. but guys like Max F and Oscar do not have the energy or interest in being The Guy. they'd choose privacy over popularity every single time if they were made to. and actually come to think of it, they have actively chosen privacy at the expense of popularity quite a few times.

because let's look at Oscar's face when Lando teasingly brings up Oscar's sprint win:

Oscar gives Lando that genuine, affectionate smile and ducks his head because he wants Lando to know that he appreciates it. in truth, that Sprint win was hailed by wider F1 community as being a massive achievement for a rookie in the Max V era of dominance. they both know that it is. but Oscar didn't posture or show off about it and for that Lando has made sure to bring it up on his behalf time and again. Oscar gave him that, Lando can give it back to him.

which is even sweeter going back to that post race video because Oscar gives Lando that same affectionate, private smile. he's had to throw the video's content over to Lando and Lando gave him that big affectionate smile first because this is how they do these videos. it's always awkward - especially if their results that day weren't great - but they know that together they can do these videos and share a laugh over how absurd it feels sometimes.

and the hint of a private joke between the two of them is there early on and you can just feel Lando relax into it.

and when you skip all the way to their last race media duties and this interview, it truly surprised me how much Lando kept checking in with Oscar - the rookie! -as he was answering. when he found himself giving boring PR answers he threw in a joke that he knew Oscar would crease up over. sure enough it loosened them both up.

and like, that's where the vulnerability and openness comes from now with Lando. he's got a teammate who is basically the same age, who gets him and who actively wants Lando to just be Lando. who clearly threw Lando at first by inadvertently foiling those attempts to establish a dynamic or a bromance. who Lando probably at first thought was just shy and awkward. but Oscar stayed true to who he is and kept that door open for Lando to eventually walk through.

so when it's the two of them, it's everyone else who's on the outside looking in. they're just being themselves. if that doesn't make everyone else feel entertained or happy they honestly don't care - and will probably share a secretive little smile about it.

it's also why they sometimes do that twinning thing and creep everyone out asfgjlaflsgjf

[hikarry]

Consider: Aziraphale finding out about the Montero video clip

"Angel!" Oh dear. Whenever he sounded this excited it was never good news. "Do yourself a favor and sit down, yes?"

"Yes. Good morning to you too, my dear."

"Uhum." Aziraphale was not exactly used to being manhandled, but whatever was on Crowley’s mind and was causing whatever frenetic energy this was, made him very inclined to indeed force the angel to sit down on the big chair, holding him by the shoulders and pushing him down very unceremoniously. "I found something hilarious."

"Is that so?" Crowley sat on the arm of the chair, crossing his legs in a probably not very comfortable position, but after 6000 years Aziraphale was of the opinion the demon had not a single bone in his corporation.

With a swift motion he grabbed his phone from his back pocket and typed something quickly. Aziraphale was looking at the phone, more out of politeness than anything else. He had no idea what was going on on that tiny screen.

"Yes." Crowley couldn't help but snort, even though the supposedly funny thing was not on display yet. "It's a song. An oldish one at that, I don't know how I didn't find it earlier."

"Oh, bebop?" The angel let his body relax against the back rest of the chair. "You know you and I have very different tastes when it comes to music."

The demon clicked his tongue in response, quite clearly not paying enough attention to form proper words. He snorted again when he finally found whatever it was he was looking for.

"The song isn't the point. It's catchy, but not my thing." He leaned over Aziraphale, arm against arm, putting the phone in front of both of them. "I will give you 5 seconds to guess what is it we are looking at."

"5 seconds? That's sound a little unfair, don't you th-" Too late, the video had began. Aziraphale actually made an effort to try and amuse Crowley, just this once. There were a lot of clouds and very vibrant colors. Some type of garden with Greek like ruins. "A garden? In Greece?"

"A garden, yes. In Greece, no. Keep watching. Last chance."

The video kept rolling and Aziraphale could physically feel how constricted like a spring ready to jump Crowley was becoming beside him.

"Oh, a snake! It has your colors, doesn't it? Are black and red snakes natural in nature?"

"Focus, angel."

Right, focus.

"It's a big snake."

"Yes. A snake. In a garden. Hm?"

"Yes, I can see it, Crowley. I'm not-" Okay, yes. Snakes didn't usually turns into humanoid creatures. In a garden...gasp. "Is this supposed to be the Garden of Eden?! And you?!"

"No, not me. Inspired by me, more like. But yes! Exactly!"

"The Garden didn't look anything like that. Greek architecture had not been invented back then yet."

"And pink grass had?"

"...Do I show up?"

"Nah. There's enough songs about angels."

"I beg to-." Right, stuff was going down hill. "They...turned you quite sexual, didn't they?"

"Not me. Inspired by me." Yes, details. "And I am the demon of Temptation. What's more tempting than sex?"

"A good Oscar Wilde first edition, for starters." Aziraphale mumbled, but Crowley clearly heard.

"Right. Oscar Wilde. I thought we were talking about me."

"I thought you said it wasn't you?"

"Ngk. Technically not me. Anyway, that's what I wanted to show you. But-" He pulled the video forward slightly. "Let me show you what humans are doing with the imagery of Lucifer nowadays."

"Is he...going to Hell down a pole?"

"You've heard of pole dancing?"

"Yes. Mrs. Sandwich enlightened me." The angel adjusted the glasses on his nose, leaning slightly forward so he could look closer at the video. "Didn't you have some boots like those back in the 80s?"

"Myeah. Similar."

"I never saw you wearing them again. Whatever happened to them?"

"Probably in the flat somewhere. I haven't been female for a hot second."

"Your point?"

Crowley looked down at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"What?"

"Are you saying you can't wear them anymore because you've been male for 4 decades?"

"Well-"

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but," he pointed at the video. "That looks like a young man to me."

"Hm. Touché."

"What is he doing now?"

"That's called a lap dance."

"He is dancing in the lap of Satan?"

"Maybe he would have been a better boss if he had been given a couple of lap dances between the millennia."

"...is this allowed?"

"I don't see why not. I like the sense of humor." As the video ended, he put it back again on his back pocket.

"I was right. It was bebop."

"As I said: not my thing either." Aziraphale folded his hands on his lap, the movement being closely watched by the demon besides him.

"I see you are still inspiring generations. Humans always did make interesting artwork with your resemblance." Crowley didn't answer. Aziraphale stayed quiet a couple more moments, waiting for him to say something. "Crowley?"

"Yeah. So. Hm." He seemed to have been snapped out of his own thoughts, laying his hands on his knee and slightly leaning towards the angel. "About those boots-"

[adam--official]

please yap about the story/lore/project

You may not know this but I am a yap GOD. Sir you have opened up an entire can of worms. Let's do this

(disclaimer my 1 am ramble and subsequent Story are Not meant to actually represent any biblical figure or any religion, I just like the stories and think the text has a lot of cool potential. I don't believe that these characters would actually be like this, had they existed. I'm agnostic so that part is up in the air)

Basically. Adam and Eve are made by God, they frolic for a while before the snake comes and has them eat the Golden Fruit (quince). They're naked and banned from Eden. You know the tale.

Readmore cause this got longgg

Despite my annoyance with Ben Sira, Lilith does exist in the story — as a demon. Kinda. She shows up in the garden and is aware of Good and Evil™ but kind of doesn't give a shit. God doesn't know she's there. She was created by the Morningstar in an attempt to one-up God, which doesn't work. Lilith does have a human body, but being created by an Angel, she lacks an immortal soul. (Still debating whether or not to include a Hell. I think I have to) Lilith isnt evil, in general demons aren't inherently evil, but because God didn't intend for them to exist, He decides their existence is evil and bad. "Demons r evil" is basically heaven propaganda

Anyways Lilith and Eve have their doomed yuri situationship in Eden. Adam and Gabriel are super into each other

Gabriel is a major asshole in this. I'm taking his characterization from the Book of Enoch (which I really like so I'm incorporating the lore). Huuuge dick. Dangerously repressed. He/I can't use standard swear words bcs they're all very culturally specifically (most are things that are considered taboo, but because this is Eden, there are no taboos ,because they don't know the difference between good and evil) so I have to get creative. He's a dick. But he's also got crazyy issues going on that I'm too sleepy to articulate properly. Let's jusr say. Things go Poorly

There's some stuff with the Fruit of Knowledge that involves snakes, idk. Forgot if the snake is being influenced by the Morningstar or if it's just a talking snake. I'll have to reread Genesis (again .auguhh)

Post- being kicked from Eden ,Adam and Eve do, in fact, bone. Out pops Cain. And then out pops Abel. Theyd be called Irish twins if Ireland existed at that point.

Cain farms the land with Adam, Abel cares for the livestock with Eve. Adam is a really chill (kinda pathetic) guy in here, and Cain takes after him, so I'm really hoping the rock murder thing comes as a sort of surprise despite having been canonized 10,000 years ago.

I asked myself what the most fucked up version of the mark of Cain could be (the thing that god marked him with so that nobody would kill him) and it involves lightning. That's about as far as I got

Anyways Eve is pregnant with Seth while the whole Cain and Abel thing goes down, she and Adam are kind of not thrilled about the whole situation so my man Seth is raised by parents who are suuuper emotionally fucked io . Also he's a prophet sorta thing so that's cool, he gets visions and ends up starting a freaky sex cult. After all his children die he gets into politics. He invents lobbying .

Adam and Eve havent invented contraceptives so they have more kids including Abra (I made her up), Mat (made him up), Salma (made her up), Rand (made him up), etc.

I tried to find some way to work around the whole incest thing, since Cain goes off East to Nod and finds a wife somehow. I really didn't want it to be his sister and the only other thing I could think of is that there are other Gods with other legit Creation Myths. So I get to research that .

Book of Enoch is canon so after a few generations we get to dive into Gabriel's codependency issues during the Flood. Azazel is sent to superhell to be tortured for eternity, his brothers are all killed, it's fucked up. Noah builds a boat, Utnapishtim builds a boat, Ziusudra builds a boat, so many men build boats and since there are multiple canon gods I don't know which man is going to build the boat. They all end up atop mt Ararat so is it like. Is it like a big man boat party. Is God and his choir of angels and all the Sumerian gods and fucking the Babylonian ones all gonna show up. How would that even work. That'd be so funny imagine God trying to deal with Ishtar. That'd go so badly . I guess I'll figure it out

Anyways thank you for asking 🙏 if you got this far, I commend you. I referenced a lot of mythology in here so I'm maybe going to go to bed, if you want to know whether I'm referencing a Text or whether I'm just making something up or whether I'm stealing it from Supernatural just lmk !! Feel free to ask literally anything. I was born to Yap

[artofhazbinhotel]

heyyy you can do a guitarspear short in the garden of eden (where maybe, if you want, Lute will be a curious angel about the new creation/Adam lol)

Here we go! Hopefully it was worth the wait, I had a lot of fun writing this :)

Alone sat a man, alone for the second time, while his wife had been condemned for her sins he wasn't, she was banished and he wasn't. He wouldn't be alone if his kids were awake but the late night silence was better than their cries about where their mother went. He blamed Lucifer for what happened to Eve, not her, she was just listening to a man and that's what she had been taught, if only Lilith learned that, maybe she wouldn't have chosen Lucifer over him, she was too difficult for him. He likes to think he's the one who wanted that to end, not her. The lake he sat by in the grass reflected the moon and he cupped some of the water to his mouth to drink, drinking away your sorrows hadn't been invented yet but he'd try.

He was interrupted by the sight of an angel slowly flying down to him, he wanted to be annoyed but she was kind of hot in his opinion. Long light silver hair, golden eyes with thick lashes, a flowy dress of black and white patterns and matching black and white wings large enough to support her. She landed in front of him and took a seat next to him in the grass, quiet for a minute, like she was thinking of what to say. "I'm sorry about what happened to Eve" she finally said. He sighed, "Geez does all of heaven know? I must look like some fucking loser." She tilted her head "What does fucking mean?"

Adam snickered running a hand through his hair "Oh right, I made it up, it's like something you add before a word to make it sound cooler, what do you think?" He looked at her for approval, he'd always assumed angels would be bigger until he saw Lucifer and now her, she's tiny. The angel thought about it before offering an awkward snicker in return "I like it, maybe I'll use it" He offered a high-five with an enthusiastic: "Hell yeah!" But she wasn't sure what to do so he took her hand and make it tap his for her then let go, it fell back at her side. "So what's your name?"

"I don't have a name" Adam's eyes widened in offense for her "That's lame, what about I give you one?" She smiled and nodded. Adam took her in again, what words come to mind? The animal names were made up, she should get something that doesn't exist yet. "Lulu.. no that's dumb. Light. Already exist." He tapped his head before snapping his fingers, "Lute!" Her eyes lit up, to have the person she's been watching from afar give her this gift was a warm feeling. "I like it"

"Well, it's nice to meet you Lute" "Nice to meet you too, Adam, I always wanted to but it didn't feel like the right time." He tilts his head, "What do you mean?" Lute sighed "As an angel the only way I can access this world is if a soul needs me, I jumped at the chance" "I guess that makes sense, but does that mean you can't visit unless I'm sad?"

Lute paused before answering, "I can sneak out" The human was kind of impressed, "Risky, I like it" Before their chat can continue a small pair of hands tapped Adam's shoulder lightly but several times. He looked down to see Abel, not very old yet. "Hey buddy, what you doing up?" Abel sat beside his father and pointed to Lute "Who's the pretty lady daddy? Is she our new mommy?" Lute blushed embarrassed and shook her head "No no, I'm just an angel-"

Abel stumbled over and snuggled up to her wing "You're like a birdy" Adam picked up his son "Hey you can't go getting all handsy with the ladies unless they're into it" Abel nodded and Lute stood. "I'm sorry to cut this short but I really should be heading back, I have a lot of responsibility up there" Adam looked at Abel and joked "See? Look what you did" Abel just immediately started crying"Wait fuck- I was joking!" He bounced him panicking, Eve was so much better at this parenting thing than he was.

Lute didn't judge, she'd have no idea what to do with a tiny human either. She waved goodbye and so did Adam. Her wings spread and she went back up, he was looking forward to seeing her again, it was the first time he'd felt happy in a while. Okay back to the crying baby, he just kept shaking up and down like a protein drink "Hush little baby don't say a word-" awkward singing ensues.

The two continued their meetings until eventually Adam's death came, Lute watched from behind the gates to welcome him as he was let him in. She took in his new appearance, golden wings and a considerable height boost. "I can show you around" She suggested but he was just excited to see her and lifted her with ease, crushing her against his chest. "Lute! This is great, now we can hang out all we want!" The other angel blushed being so close and tried to shove away, wings flapping rapidly. "Yeah- great- you can put me down now."

Adam nods and sits her down "Oops sorry" He laughed as she fixed her hair. Their conversation was interrupted again by something mirroring their first, it was Abel. "You look so majestic father! I missed you" Adam ran over and ruffled his brown hair, it matched his own. "Not too bad yourself, look at those wings!" Lute watched them with a small smile, it was sweet to see the reunion Abel always talked about, she never filled the mother role in his life, but she did let him ask about his father, she'd never complain to talk about him.

[domquixotedospobresblog]

He loved to imagine his children running around, he loved to invent words without any meaning to give meaning to something that he himself had also invented, he liked to play with imaginary boys and girls, he would look for them around the house, under the bed, in the bedroom, in the yard or behind a closet, he would scream like crazy, one, two, three, I found another one, she was on the other side of the street doing the same, every day the games had a kind of purpose, they prepared the life that one day the two would have, in the afternoon they would go out the window and shout at each other, since they lived on opposite sides of the street, I won today she would say, me too he would lie, since he only found three, the other child was so invisible he ended up being forgotten in the garden behind the rosemary bed, but she didn't know, they agreed to have eight children, she played with four and he had fun with the other four, and if she knew that he forgot the youngest in the garden all night, even with the rain that suddenly fell, only if They met at school and from there they chose the game of the day. Today was to take the children to the doctor. Their health was good, at least most of them. He took the opportunity and said at the end of the afternoon that the little one had pneumonia. Why could that be? She fell asleep worried about her son's illness. She only calmed down when they met and he said that the boy was fine. It was just a child's game, but a mother is a mother, whether biological, adoptive or imaginary. Today was the day of their wedding, in the couple's game. The groom was ready, the bride was ready, but late. Families. Rings made of tapioca biscuits, a rain cake with lots of sugar, two matchsticks on top symbolizing the bride and groom. The guests and the priest were the vegetables. Everything was ready. The afternoon arrived. The game was over, or almost over. The two went out the window and shouted together, "Yessssss, there you go!" In their imagination, they became husband and wife.

Jonas r Cezar

[neverending-poolrooms]

i havent even put out hte promo you gave us yet i wanna get a request in first .. could we get a diving suit mixtive of Spinel (Steven Universe) and Subspace (Phighting!) ? No face claims , we already have one .3c no pressure and no rush !! /g

thank you in advance either way , - @toxin-filled-bahs

## LEVEL 2 ; DIVING SUIT

>>> Spinel (Steven Universe) / Subspace (PHIGHTING!) Requested by ; @toxin-filled-bahs Why are there lockers here...?

Level 1 ; Poolrooms

Names : Spinel , Subspace , Pink , Bubblegum , Cerise , Orchid , Coral , Create , Comet , Crystal , Garden , Brugmansia , Oleander , Nerium , Azalea , Lilium

Pronouns : He/Him , She/Her , H3/H1m , Shy/Hyr , Shi/Hir , Heart/Hearts , Fun/Funs , Play/Plays , Game/Games , Poison/Poisons , Toxic/Toxics , Toxin/Toxins , Inject/Injects , Gem/Gems , Dae/Daemons , For/Ever/Forevers , Forever/Forevers , 🩷/🩷s , 🌹/🌹s , 🧪/🧪s , 💉/💉s , 💖/💖s

Age : Ageless , says 30s for simplicity. Age regress to 10-15

Orientation : Queer , Bisexual , AroAceflux

Gender : Transfemmasc , Bigender , Boygirl , Girlboy

Species : Inphernal , Spinel Gem / Gem

Roles : Fragment Developer , Artisan , Playmate , Obsession Keeper , BPD Holder , DPD Holder , Solitarian

Source(s) : Steven Universe , PHIGHTING!

Level 2 ; Diving Suit

Likes : Robotics , Types of poisons and toxins , Medkit , Pink Diamond , Singing , Biology , Science overall , Researching random topics

Dislikes : Abandonment / Being abandoned , Medkit , Pink Diamond , Sleeping , Boredom / having nothing to do , Broken or lost items , Fronting alone

Fronting Triggers : Playing (high energy) games , Hanging out with hearts FP (if applicable) , Creating anything

Typing Quirk : Doubles exclamation marks and question marks. Capitalizes words / things that are important to toxic. >>> The quick brown dog jumps over the lazy fox!! My Invention!! Aren't They so cool?? My Gem?? What about Her??

Basic Personality : Curious , Cocky , Allocentric , Creative

Faceclaim : N/A

We hope you like hyr!! It was fun to relearn about Spinel for this :}}. Banger songs as always. Also, we didn't respond to the compliments about our theme but - thank you!! We really appreciate it!! :33 Oh & we almost put Spinelspace as a name, but decided not to. Too silly to not mention it though.

Credits ; [Top Divider] ★ [Water Dividers] ★ [Bottom Divider]

[evesaintyves]

Trick or treat! 🍭

thank you @annabtg !!

i know you like jily so im writing you a @jilymicrofics i guess? i've never really written these two characters before except as guest appearances but here goes

(863 words)

Scouring charms were invented by a man, it's obvious, because it takes about nine passes to get the dried-up spat-out Pablum off the wall. James thinks the mess is cute and she should leave it—it's almost like art, he said once, the spatter-pattern of flecks on the wallpaper. He was raised with house-elves and never learned to clean. Right, our little Jackson Pollock, Lily muttered, and James didn't know what she was talking about.

Every day he disappears into the box room and polishes a broom he hasn't ridden in months. Sometimes the two of them duel in the back garden, with Harry in his highchair behind an iridescent bubble of defensive spells. James rarely gets a shot past Lily, but when he does, Harry cackles in his strangely bawdy toddler way and smacks the biscuit crumbs around on his tray. It can feel a bit like they're ganging up on her. James swaggers up, clears up her boils or whatever else he's hexed her with, and then murmurs in her ear, why don't we put him in his cot and have a lie down?

It wasn't so long ago that she'd have giggled and dragged him upstairs by the hand. Now she says I really ought to degnome the garden, they're digging up all our leeks, and for just a second there's a look on his face like he might suggest they just do it right here in the garden, but he doesn't. He doesn't offer to help, either. He scoops Harry up, takes him off to build a castle with the blocks she's always somehow stepping on. She zaps the gnomes with disproportionate venom and spends most of the afternoon outside.

This life looks so much like what she'd imagined, little cottage, ivy climbing round the door, kitten and baby and husband cuddled up in the big downy bed, but it feels so different—like when you look at a photograph and your face is asymmetrical and weird, different from the mirror, familiar but wrong. These curtain-twitching, lay-low, you're joking me Mad-Eye he's been a mate since forever days of known unknowns and unknown unknowns and nightmares, constantly, of being chased; worse, almost, this ennui of stuffing nappies down the overflowing bin and picking up the hundred socks James somehow peels off daily.

When she was a girl, the morning glory on the chain-link fence used to turn their purple faces to follow her. She still remembers, and sometimes recites in her head, the fussy formulas for wolfsbane, veritaserum, the little trick for making a paste of aconite with the side of her knife.

Even Petunia, these days, is leaving her boy with a sitter and going to cocktail parties, holidays by the sea—that's what Mum said in her very last letter, anyway. She sounded so proud. Lily used to think she'd done well for herself, pulled off quite a trick, married for love and got money in the bargain, but now she might as well be in some pebbledash in Cokeworth, sweeping the kitchen lino. At least she'd get to go out to the shops.

Ten scouring charms later, she can still feel the grit of cereal bits when she runs her nails over the wall. The wallpaper's going discoloured, there, and it's hard to tell anymore what's paisley and what's Pablum. Lily half-remembers a story she read, or maybe heard about, where a woman falls ill and goes spare looking at the wallpaper in her sickroom. The thing is, Lily can't imagine being bedridden, going mad. Who has the time? Who would do the laundry?

I feel like a waste of talent, she whispers to James that night, in that shifting awkwardness before sleep, when she's wondering if he'll reach for her and trying to decide if she wants him to. This time he does: slides his hand down her arm and interlocks his fingers with hers.

You're not a waste of anything, he tells her. He presses a kiss to her neck and then buries his nose in the hair behind her ear. After a minute: This isn't a waste. It's like school. Like detention. We just have to get through it so we can go on with life.

I never got detention, she says.

Well, I'm sorry. You missed a lot of fun.

Lily snorts.

Seriously, James says. Maybe I'm just stir-crazy, but I actually miss it.

You just miss chatting shit with Sirius.

Well yeah, all right? But I miss those times. Even the boring, shitty times. One of these days—

Lily rolls her eyes. Oh, stop.

—No, let me finish, one of these days Harry will be off at school and we'll be moaning, oh, I miss when he was just little, getting peas in the carpet—

You're not the one cleaning up the peas.

Well, you're better at that sort of thing. But I do about three-quarters of the nappies.

Lily sucks her teeth. That's true.

See, he says, sounding delighted. We agree!

Harry and the kitten are both snoring, and five minutes later, James is too. When Lily finally closes her eyes, the paisley-swirls and speckles are there inside her eyelids.

[grandhotelabyss]

The substack on "seperating the art from the artist" was interesting. But one detail lead me to a question - childrens books.

I know it was mostly used to mock people who don't want to engadge with anything "icky" as the demographic probably likes to say, but still.

So the question is, should books for kids be squeaky clean, be these gardens of eden were no evil shows its head, till they grow into the maturity which will let them confront the barbarity of literature vis a vis reality?

One could already use this as a segway to argue the opposite - that with the amount of adults not being able to deal with literature going against their provincal pseudo-morals, children should be "trained" from young age to not be like that - the point of childhood is paradoxically to grow out of it, even if many dont want to.

But on the other hand, and this may reveal myself to be the object of the previous high-nosed snot shower:

I kinda do feel "icky" when I think about all these kids books that try to be "hehe, I'm gonna show kids the real world!"

Like that Matilda author, forgot his name, I remember a year ago there was some fake drama about censorship which ofcourse was stupid but still

I do feel some kind of spite, that irony, that want to be subversive that goes against the idealised view of childhood.

Or maybe my realistic view - with all the cruelty and unavoidable misery - but that wants me to say, "why expose them to more of it?"

Because intuition tells me that those "edgy" childrens book have a simmilar ethos as a teenaged kid trying to teach a todler swear words, or to do a roman salute or whatever, this corrupting of the innocent for the sake of it.

But maybe this whole ramble is just the result of a Lacanian wish to crawl back into the vomb, my lile of Preussler's books just a want to become the little ghost who just can fly around in his eternal castle never growing up.

Still ofcourse I get that it is absurd to rant against Matilda with all the childrens media going way further in many ways and the fact that even I as a young child easily acceseed stuff I wasnt supossed to.

So maybe I answerred my own question - maybe there shouldnt even be childrens books in the first place, just books that are more and less apropriate for younger and yet younger kids.

(Also they should burn all those obviously on porpuse braindead picture books, you know the type lol)

Yes, as I discussed here, I didn't really read children's books unless made to and don't find it to be all that appealing a category. People thought comic books were like children's books, so I was happily reading Grant Morrison's occult phantasmagoria, Frank Miller's post-apocalyptic reactionary satire, and Alan Moore's Freudian traumatology of the archetypes at the age of five and six—and I wouldn't have it any other way. Anyway, the writers who shifted children's books out of their moralizing paradigm and into neo-modernist aesthetic integrity in the late 19th century tended to be either quasi-pedophiles like Carroll and Barrie or figures like Potter rather deliberately trying to expose children to the tooth-and-claw realities polite society otherwise evaded. Children's primordial innocence was a useful historical construct, the slowly evolving joint work of Christianity and the Enlightenment, and we are rightly suspicious of those who would tamper too much with it today; but it was a historical construct, it has produced its own return-of-the-repressed shadow (it's likely generated as much pedophilia as it's ever discouraged by inventing the taboo to be profaned), and it has been carried to unconscionable extremes of life-aversion and anti-intellectualism in our time (e.g., the "brain" doesn't "finish" till age 25 or whatever other ridiculous scientific myth of permanent incapacity we're supposed to believe based on the latest spate of fake "studies" these days). People are probably just people at any age from the onset of consciousness forward—I am aware of no great shift in the core of my identity since about the age of five and never thought of myself as a child—and, because there is alas no protecting everyone from everything in the end, they should at least be armed with knowledge and cultivation at the earliest possible moment.

[author-orchids]

~The Princess And The Dragon~

So sorry about the chapter not getting posted yesterday, I cannot stick to a schedule for the life of me and when I finally got to it, my laptop was dead. I was originally planning to post three chapters today to make up for it but I very quickly got very overwhelmed so what I am going to do instead is post one chapter today and I will post two more chapters before Saturday

When I use italics, it is usually to show a thought. But I also use Italics for two of the three chapters I'm posting this week to show that it takes place in the past. In those two chapters, the characters thoughts are shown with non-italicized text. Just pointing this out to avoid any confusion when y'all are reading

The part of the post where I go on and on mostly about what I'm thinking while I edit because I simultaneously can't take myself seriously and also take myself far too seriously v

I seem to be abysmal at writing fight scenes so chapter four as you're seeing it now will most definitely be very different from how it would be if/when I ever get to the point of publishing my work as an actual book

I hate coming up with time period appropriate clothing what do you mean hoodies weren't invented until the 1930's what am I supposed to put my guys in

^ why I like dragons better, I don't have to put them in clothes

^^ the words "trousers" and "tunic" save the day, my beloved

As much as I hat my own writing, I could never hat chapter four, because it introduces Orion. My blorbo. My scrunckly skrimblo. My favoriteest boy. My little guy.

^ "My little guy" the 200 year old, HEAVILY traumatized, 6 foot tall witch

~Chapter Four~

Fury beat her wings, flying farther and farther away from the island that the marrow tribe of bone dragons lived on in the north. She flew, the flat expanse of the green meadows only broken by a house she spied as she flew past. Fury didn't believe she was being followed, but she was scared and it was better safe than sorry.

She heard a thump in the distance. Fury turned back and saw one of those bone dragons had landed outside that little house. Fury pivoted and turned back. She recognised that dragon, Fang, and with her sharper mountain dragon sight she could see Fang standing over a person. Fury sped back and collided with Fang in a bone-shaking impact.

Fury took quick note of her surroundings. To her right was the side of the person’s house, with a tree and some garden beds. On her left the sun was just beginning to set, behind her that person was scrambling away, and standing in front of her was Fang.

“You really are the heroic type, aren't you?” Fang hissed, “You fled from training with us, but you attack me to save a little witch?”

“Unlike you, I believe in doing the right thing.” Fury said, getting into a fighting stance. Fang did not say anything more before she pounced.

Fury rolled with Fang, attempting to pin Fang underneath her. The witch had run away in time to not get crushed, Fang threw Fury off of her, Fury dug her claws into the ground, slowing her momentum in just enough time as to not destroy the wall of the house. Fury moved as if to take flight, Fang did the same and Fury then ran towards the bone-white dragon and slashed with her talons for the weak spot where her wing met the side of her body, now vulnerable with her raised wings. Fang hissed and bit her in the back. Fury jumped back, and dogged each attack made by Fang’s talons and teeth and tail. 

Fang pushed Fury farther and farther back. Fury did not have time to brace herself before Fang threw herself at Fury with full force, enough so to throw her backwards to collide with the tree. The thick, armor-like scales of Fury’s back were barely enough to protect against the impact. A loud crack sounded, thankfully not from her own back, but from the tree behind her. It fell backwards with a loud thud that shook the ground. Fury did not allow herself a moment of distraction as she shook off the impact and lunged for Fang.

Fury dodged attacks from Fang, both dragons moved with swiftness and efficiency. Fang had herself behind Fury, Fury swung her tail and it connected with the side of Fang’s face. In the split second that Fang was distracted by this, Fury turned around and lashed out with her claws, leaving long socrates on Fang’s chest that dribbled a stream of blood. Before Fang could react Fury threw her whole weight on Fang’s foot, there was a crunch sound that told her she was successful in breaking a bone.

“Don't fight a battle you can't win, Fang,” Fury said. And don't make me take your life, Fury thought. Fury wished to never take a life, even if it was Fang. But would it be so bad? To kill Fang? Maybe, maybe not. Fang took a step forward, and immediately cringed when she put weight upon the foot that was indeed broken. Blood still continuously flowed from the claw marks on Fang’s chest, as well as from the scratch on her side. Both dragons were peppered with smaller, far less significant cuts. Fury hissed at Fang, and Fang took off, her wingbeats rustled the grasses.

~

Fury had caught a rabbit, skinned it, and was roasting it over a fire when the witch finally woke up. Fury was no good at guessing the age of witches, but he looked like a human would in his early 30’s. His hair was silver, and his eyes were a sapphire blue. The witch wore black trousers and a long-sleeved tunic in a vibrant color that nearly matched his eyes. There was an unfortunate-looking wound on his arm, as a result of Fang’s attack, surely. Fury had tended to the wound as best she could with what she had, medicinal herbs foraged from both the Pale Island and from the forests of the continent- all things Fury made sure to have with her at all times. Fury had to be very careful as to not cause more damage with her large talons.

He had fainted when Fury and Fang fought. “Oh thank gods you’re alive!” Fury said when she saw him stir. “What happened? I remember that dragon attacking me, and then you showed up, and…” He said, looking beyond Fury to the area where the two dragons had fought, chunks of grass and dirt -and bits from his garden beds- lay torn up from the battle. “Well I tackled Fang- that's the name of the Bone dragon who attacked you- and you fainted not long after that.” Fury answered. “Why were either of you here?” He demanded. 

“It’s a long story…” Fury sighed,

“Then make it a shorter one.” He growled.

“Fang is of the marrow tribe, the fiercer of the two Bone dragon tribes. I am a traveler, I was at the Pale Island to learn from both tribes of the Bone dragons. The Marrow tribe wanted me to do some… some bad things to be titled as one of them. So-” Fury looked towards the sky and the setting sun, “-So when the sun had risen and they were all asleep, I left. I didn't know Fang was following me, and if I did, if I had any idea that this would happen that she would attack you, I would never have come anywhere near here.”

The rabbit Fury was roasting finished cooking, Fury sliced it in half with her claws and offered one half to the witch. He accepted both the explanation and the food.

“So dragon… your name?” He asked, they both began picking at their food. “Fury,” she said, “and you?” “Fury? I can't say that your name entirely matches who you seem to be,” he paused, “My name is Orion.”

~

“What are you doing?” Orion asked the next morning when he’d seen Fury poking around in the flower beds. He now wore a black shirt with long loose sleeves and dark gray pants. His hair that was previously shoulder length was cut short enough that now it barely grazed his ears.

“I’m fixing your garden, it's my fault this all got messed up after all.” Fury said, and paused as the witch stopped to look at her, how she put the torn up chunks of dirt and grass back into the ground to the best of her ability, the splintered wood borders of the garden beds she now inspected, “It's the least I could do.”

“What? No, no, you don't have to do that,” Orion said, shaking his head.

“It’s the least I could do,” Fury repeated, “I caused harm to you and to your property, it would be wrong to leave without righting that. I insist.”

“You also saved my life, there is nothing you owe me.”

“I wouldn't have had to save you if I hadn't put you in danger in the first place.”

Orion paused, “I… i- if you insist.”

~

“So, Fury, you mentioned you travel to learn about the dragon tribes that aren't your own right?” Orion asked Fury the next day. The day before the two had sparse chat, during which Orion had told Fury that if she really felt she had to help him, if she insisted on fixing things, she could use the wood from the felled tree to repair the borders of his garden beds.

Fury noded, while she pieced together what could be salvaged and what needed to be replaced. 

“What are the tribes like?”

“Well, the Desert Dragons are clever, they have to be in order to outwit the other beasts in the desert and the sun. They build beautiful towns on oasis and on the border between the desert and mountain kingdoms. I visited their tribe first when I left the Mountain Palace.”

“You lived in the Mountain Palace?”

“I'm not a princess if that's what you’re thinking,”

“Obviously.”

Fury rolled her eyes, “I worked there, so I had a room.”

“Can I ask what your job was?”

“I was captain of the royal guard, then the Mountain Queen’s personal guard.”

“And you left?”

“I preferred the life of a nomad, many of my tribe do. My Queen herself spent time as a traveler before she took the throne and even supported my decision to leave.” Fury answered, “Can I ask why you live alone in the middle of nowhere instead of being the head of a coven, your type are pretty rare.”

Orion fidgeted with his hair. The color of a witches hair was a signifier of their power, Orion’s silver hair placed him in the second most powerful category of witches. “I’m just not a big fan of other people really,” he said, “so often they are loud and annoying,” he looked at Fury, “You are pretty alright though,” he paused, “I- that was supposed to be a compliment.” Fury grinned, “Thanks, you are pretty alright yourself Orion.”

~

“How did you even do this?” The witch asked Fury later that day. He ran a hand along the carving Fury had started on the wood, intricate patterns of leaves and flowers and swirls. “Do you not like it? I'm sorry I- I can get rid of it if you don't-” Fury started, and was cut off when Orion said “No no, I love it this is beautiful. Amazing, actually. But how? These designs are smaller than your talons!” Fury gestured to the knife strapped to her front leg, “Just one of the many talents I acquired in my travels.”

~

That night Fury was staring up at the stars. Is he mad? Fury thought, does what I'm doing make up for me being the reason he was attacked? Does he hate me? If the situations were flipped I would hate me. Should I just leave? “I like watching the stars too.” Fury startled when she heard Orion suddenly beside her.

“How long have you been there?” Fury asked, unsure how she hadn't heard him. “Did I scare you? I didn't mean to.” He was sat down beside Fury, and they both sat in quiet silence and watched the stars.

~

The next day Fury told Orion about all the different dragon tribes. He first asked her about the Treehopper tribe, which was the second tribe she had ever visited. Then she told him about the other tribes, deciding to tell him in the order she had traveled to them, the sea dragons, the Featherwings, then finally the Bone dragons. They chatted like friends until Fury had left to catch something to eat.

When Fury returned, Orion was just staring at his garden beds with his arms crossed. With the short sleeves of his Purple tunic, Fury could see the real bandages with which he replaced the medicinal leaves Fury had used on the wound on his arm two days ago.

“Hey Or-” Fury had begun to say. “Leave.” Orion cut her off. “What's wrong Orion?” Fury asked. “Just go away.” Was all he said. “Orion, did something happen while I was gone?” 

“Just leave already. Go AWAY! Get out of my face, get off of my property. Get. Lost.” 

“Orion, what is wrong, what did I-”

“What did you do?” He waved his arms in a gesture to everything around him, “This!” He finally turned to face her. “ Everything! All of it! You're doing all this as if you owe me? It infuriates me! You are acting as if you owe me your life! But I’M the one with the life debt to YOU! You really think you owe me? Then do me a favor and fuck off. Go away and never come back unless you have something that can settle the life debt between us so I’ll never have to think of you again. Go. Away.”

Fury silently walked to where she had previously discarded her brown bag, put it back around her neck, and flew off. A few tears fell from Fury’s eyes as she flew away from the witch she had begun to consider a friend.

~

“And that Twigling, is when I flew here and met you.” Fury told Orchid. “I wonder why he snapped on you like that?” Orchid said. “S’pose I might find out soon enough.” Fury answered.