#I regret not being able to read this book sooner

[thatonecrookedsmile]

So, I've recently been reading Fade To Black for the first time, and I'm making more and more progress. And at the moment I'm currently am, I have already read chapter 21 of this book.

I just wanted to put on record here that I became a different person after reading this chapter. I have been changed. I was saddened. And most importantly, I was destroyed. (ok, that's a pretty heavy word. I didn't cry, but feelings were definitely felt). This book goes hard, I believe.

Oh and also, since I got past chapter 23:

Joey Drew. I'm Gonna Kick Your Ass. Sleep with your eyes open tonight.

That's all. Have a good day everyone.

[madame-fear]

Hi i was wondering if you could write an nsfw head cannon of jacaerys and his wife reader and what their intimate life is like, and like talk about stuff they do.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : headcanons, smut + slight fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : : jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; p in v, unprotected sex, sex from behind, bootfucking, breast play, creampie, slight mentions of mirror sex, oral sex (both receiving), mentions of you riding him, praising, slight mentions of spanking.

: ̗̀➛ Okay, so, for starters. Your intimate life naturally came after you were both officially married, and the bedding ceremony came. To respect your privacy, the two of you already had a chamber of your own to share, and you would be able to be as intimate as you wished.

: ̗̀➛ Initially, Jace would’ve been very soft and delicate with you. It’s in his gentleman nature to be careful, especially with the woman who was now his wife, and he so adored. Things would’ve gone slowly, but surely. And perhaps, there would’ve been a bit of foreplay and kisses before starting anything.

: ̗̀➛ Jace would press sweet, teasing pecks all across your cheek, going down to your jawline, focusing on giving your neck attention with his kisses — especially in a particular spot of your neck where Jace notices it makes you squirm and gasp —, and goes to your collarbone, savouring your skin with each peck.

: ̗̀➛ All the while, of course, Jace’s hands softly move behind your back, playing with the laces of your nightgown as he leisurely unties them, letting your gown become loose from your body, and fall from your shoulders. Being the gentleman he is, of course, Jacaerys would constantly ask you if you’re feeling comfortable with what he’s doing, if you want him to stop, or keep going; all with the most sweetest voice you’ve ever heard.

: ̗̀➛ His coffee eyes would look up at you admiringly, just like a fascinated puppy. You don’t want him to stop any sooner — if anything, the way he teased your skin by pressing soft kisses and caressing it leisurely with the tip of your fingers, merely got you all wet and needy for him. To which, you gave him the green light to keep going.

: ̗̀➛ And my god, you didn’t regret it. The second you approved for him to keep pleasing you, his hands rather desperately pulled down your gown, low enough to just expose your breasts. His mouth immediately took your hardened nipple in a delicate manner, using his tongue to tease it very lightly, and his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin to leave some lovemarks, using his hands to pinch, twist, and rub your nipples.

: ̗̀➛ Pretty little hushed whimpers & moans would continuously escape from your lips as your eyes flutter shut, and you throw your head back; feeling your cunt grow wet and needy. Each sound that spurred from that beautiful mouth of yours, simply made Jace grow harder for you, with an overwhelming need to fuck you right there, and make you shout loudly his name for everyone to hear who you belong to.

: ̗̀➛ And so he did. By the time Jacaerys had already feasted a bit too much on your delicate skin and sweet breasts, his mouth abruptly pulled away from your tits after some minutes, making you gasp, and his firm yet gentle hand pushed you onto your back against the mattress, getting on tip of you, and fucking you fervently throughout the entire night, cumming in and out of your body several times.

: ̗̀➛ After such lovely bedding night, getting lovingly yet roughly fucked by the eldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you would’ve gotten more and more used to explore your intimacy together - whether it’s privately, or... Even publicly, being a bit more bold.

: ̗̀➛ Jacaerys absolutely adores having you all submissive & needy, as much as it pains him to hold himself back from taking you right there all for him. So, whenever he’s either studying, reading in High Valyrian, or simply reading a book - he will absolutely have you sitting on the floor, whining and begging for him to take you.

: ̗̀➛ You look beautifully endearing just like that, and Jace will tease you by making you sit on top of his boot, and rubbing your needy moist cunt, bootfucking you. Continous desperate whines would escape from you, begging for him to fully take you - but not just yet. Jace prefers having you clinging to his leg, and seeing how you rub yourself with the tip of his boot.

: ̗̀➛ Jace always knows exactly what you like, and what you need. And he keeps the perfect balance between roughness, and gentleness at the same time. Part of him loves treating you as if you were the petal of a rose, or made of glass - delicately and lovingly. And another part of him simply wants to fuck you like a whore, like you need and want to get fucked, rough and disgusting. This, however, doesn’t mean he will not respect the boundaries you’ve set for each other, and afterwards, he will always ask you if you’re okay, and feeling comfortable.

: ̗̀➛ Sex from behind happens often, and I dare to say it’s one of his favourite positions, after having you riding him. The feeling of you becoming weaker with every pound of cock buried deep inside your pussy, continously hitting your soft spot. Expect his hands to always firmly grip your waist violently in a possesively controlling manner... Or, perhaps, one of his hands gropping your breast while he plays with your stimulated nipples. That feels pretty good for both of you.

: ̗̀➛ And speaking about sex from behind! During this position, I can imagine he would like fucking you right in front of a mirror, making sure to change the speed in which he penetrates you just to see the different expressions in your beauteous features. His hand would hold your chin occasionally, forcing you to stare at yourself through the mirror being fucked by him, as he whispers just how much of a good girl you are, taking his cock so well and obediently.

: ̗̀➛ One of his many favourite things to do in bed, is having you go down on him, and him going down on you. The way your hand forms a fist around his throbbing cock, gently masturbating him as your lips press delicate smooches on his leaking tip, moving your mouth all the way down to his cock with small kisses until you decide to finally take him in your mouth makes him go absolutely feral for you.

: ̗̀➛ It would take Jacaerys all the efforts that he has to not grip harshly from your hair, pulling it back, and violently face fuck you until you’re deepthroating his shaft and maybe even gagging a bit. It hurts not doing so, but he prefers to treat you like the true future Queen you are. The way in which your tongue strokes his cock leisurely while you’re going down on him with your mouth provokes him to loudly groan, and chant your name under his breath. As expected, his semen spurs all over the inside of your mouth, your tongue, and the roof of your mouth.

: ̗̀➛ Or, if he’s feeling a bit too aroused, he will quickly pull out from your mouth at the feeling of his seed being released, and come all over your precious lips, chin, neck, and chest. The sight of his own cum dripping from your chin and neck, some sticky drops falling to your tits, is enough to make him feel proud of himself. You’re all his.

: ̗̀➛ And when Jace has to go down on you? Man, he for sure knows how to take your aching pussy. His hands would be harshly gripping your hips, as his plump lips press playful kisses all over your inner thighs, moving upwards until he meets with your wet core.

: ̗̀➛ There, he would sweetly place kisses all over your moist folds, working up until he meets your glistening clit. He would then carefully rub the rim of it, and slowly work his way in to meet your throbbing core. His tongue would flick against that sensitive spot, and then he would move his mouth back towards your entrance, where he would suckle at your slit, selfishly drinking from your dripping slick while he eagerly fingerfucks you.

: ̗̀➛ It’s just as if Jace knew exactly how you like to be treated; pampering each bit of your sensible core with such fervent adoration. Jace does it like nobody else does, and you can go down on him like nobody else as well. You’re the perfect match.

: ̗̀➛ The eldest Velaryon Prince would also absolutely adore having you riding him. Especially because you tease him by telling him that you’re finally learning on how to properly ride a true dragon... And because he likes the way your tits bounce when you’re on top of him. And, of course, the sight of the bruises Jace leaves on your hips after firmly holding you down on him is also a very pleasant one.

: ̗̀➛ Jace knows how to treat you when you’re such a good girl for him, so obedient — and he will be so gentle, loving, and adoring. But when you’re a bit feisty with him, thinking that you can misbehave around him, Jace will never doubt on having you laid all across his lap, harshly spanking your ass until your flesh is red and swollen, occasionally rubbing his palm across your aching cunt teasingly.

: ̗̀➛ And when you accept your punishment, his pulsating cock would fill you up so delightfully. Pounding violently in and out of you continously, making sure his cock hits deeply against your G spot just to have you shaking, whining, and whimpering under him. Seven Hells, the way you moan his name in that ruined state is so, so pretty. And Jacaerys would cum several times inside of you, to the point you would feel comfortingly and overwhelmingly warm, until his hot semen is oozing out of your abused pussy, dripping down your inner thighs.

: ̗̀➛ I think Jace would pretty much be up to anything. Want to be tied to the bed while he fucks you and you can’t do anything about it? Sure, he will do as you please. Want to be choked? Okay! Jace will be happy to oblige. Want to be tendered softly, and fucked with love and adoration as he praises you in between kisses? Say no more. Jacaerys absolutely adores you, and that’s an understatement.

: ̗̀➛ Your sex life will be pretty much open to anything, and of course, his only focus will be in making you feel satisfied, comfortable, and loved. Jace would never do anything to get hurt you or make you uncomfy. 💗

♡ taglist : ♡

@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @hopelesswritergall @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[ilovetulips]

fem!reader x older!tattooartist!eddiemunson

part 1 here !

WARNINGS : smut mdni. phone sex :)). age gap mentioned !! if u dont like dont read. basically the same as pt. 1 but shorter.

hope u all enjoy !! ♡ ♡ ♡ (p.s my reqs are open)

———

eddie hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. ever since you walked in and seduced him like a little minx. he knew it was ‘unprofessional’, yet if anyone else were out into that position, he’s certain they would’ve done the same.

such a sweet thing like you, and such an opposite man like him. you were younger, sure, but you were oh so sweet and fully aware of what you were doing when you first met.

you, similarly, can’t get the picture of that mess of curls out of your head. his lips, his hands trailing up your skirt, the small crows feet either side of his eyes. even his dick for gods sake. something about him was so enduring… so enchanting. you couldn’t help yourself.

it had been 5 days since your last and first interaction with eddie munson, and it has been replaying in your head nonstop. but there hasn’t been a call yet, and now you’re starting to regret your sudden outburst of confidence.

i mean, you had ended on a really good note - he finished your tattoo, you payed at a discounted price because he said you’d already gave him enough ‘payment’. but why hadn’t he called you back…?

had you come off too strong? maybe he did that with all of his clients… could you just be another one of them? what if he just didn’t care about you? you were obsessed with him but did he even think about you and—

ring ring.

no, it can’t be him. that’ll be too convenient of a time right? it’s probably work.

you trail over to the phone on the wall, lazily dragging your legs after laying in bed all day. it was about 10pm, your day being well spent in the comfort of your room. you were expecting a call from work too, so you had already lost hope for eddie and assumed it was your boss calling you.

“hello?” you say sweetly down the phone, spinning the lean your back against the wall.

“missed that voice, hi sweetheart.” your heart stopped. the world stopped. it was actually him - you’d been dreaming about hearing that voice again and it was finally happening right now.

“y’there y/n?” you twirl the cord around your finger.

“hi, eddie.” a high pitched voice sounds down the microphone, not registering in your mind that it’s yours. your heart is quite literally pounding in your chest now.

“sorry about not calling you sooner sweetness, been busy. i’ve missed you.” the heat rises to your cheeks faster than it ever has. you feel like a girl in high-school with a stupid crush.

“s’okay, i’ve been busy too. m’glad you finally called me though.”

“oh yeah? you missed me sweet thing?” now he just sounds cocky.

“mmm, i wouldn’t go that far.” you smirk.

“i see how it is…”

silence. it consumes the both of you. it’s not the awkward type, you feel as if you are just flourishing in his company through the phone.

“m’being serious when i say i missed you. couldn’t stop thinking about you, y’little minx.” he lets out a breathy laugh at the nickname, and it could quite possibly be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. you become aware of your clothes feeling too hot, and your thighs clenching tightly.

“i missed you too. nearly came to your work to book another tattoo just to see you.” you giggle slightly and bite your lip, sounding ridiculous and wanting to stop yourself.

“that obsessed already baby? gotcha hooked. should’ve came down, last time was definitely something.” as if your face couldn’t get anymore red.

you laugh down the phone, not knowing how to respond to that unforgettable day. heat pools underneath your small bedtime shorts.

“maybe you should’ve called me earlier, we could’ve done something… i’ve missed you.” your eyelids clamp shut, afraid you’re starting something you won’t be able to finish.

eddie was sat there, stunned and shirtless in his bedroom of his apartment. and let’s be honest, the plaid pants he was wearing as pyjamas weren’t leaving much to the imagination as his boner presses against the stitching. as soon as he heard your voice, he couldn’t help himself.

“fuck- you can’t say stuff like that t’me sweetheart. m’going crazy over here.” your statement didn’t leave much to the imagination, and ended with him rutting his hips into the air to get some sort of release. he lets out a small moan at the feel of his leaky tip touching the thin material of his pants.

the growing tension was absolutely suffocating, yet neither of you wanted to make the first move and wanted to relish in it until it snapped.

now you aren’t going to pretend like you didn’t hear him moan, because you most definitely did. before you even knew it, your nipples had pebbled against your small shirt, and slick was coating your thighs.

“watcha doin’ right now, eds?” the innocent act only made him worse.

he was still circling his hips, the waistband of his pants falling lower and leaving his happy trail becoming more and more exposed. you were circling your finger around the harsh indent of your nipple over your shirt, biting back a moan - both pleasuring yourself slightly but not fully committing yet.

“d’ya really want me to answer that, angel? cause i think you can hear what m’ doing.” he finally caves and pulls his hardened length of out his pants, precum dribbling down the tip in beads. just like the sick fuck he is, he moves the phone down to his hip level and starts rubbing his cock. “f-fuck, wish you were here touchin’ me right now.”

your receiver fills with sounds of eddie’s slick cock being rubbed, the sound of his spit and precum mixing to soak his dick perfectly. the sounds leave little to the imagination, as you trail your fingers down to your waistband to your dripping cunt. the jolt of pain that rushes through you when you brush over your throbbing cunt forces a moan to escape your lips.

“not so much of an angel are ya sweetheart- shit.” he bucks his hips into his fist, fucking his hand to the sound of your little pants. “touchin’ yourself to the sound of me. dirty girl.” the smirk in his voice evident.

“n-never said i was an angel—“ you slip your finger into your tight hole, plunging it all the way until you feel that spongey spot on your walls. it elicits such a sweet moan that eddie thinks he’s gonna cream himself right then and there. “n’ you started touchin’ yourself to the sound of my voice you perv.”

his hand speeds up, the moans spurring him on even further as he whines into the microphone of the phone. “fuck- missed your pretty noises so much. so so so much.” he hisses. “you gonna slip another finger in, baby? fill yourself up so it feels like me.” he wouldn’t admit that the nickname ‘perv’ was really making it difficult for him right now.

you nod despite him not being able to see you, and do what he says. “miss you touchin’ me. haven’t stopped thinking about you eddie.” your brain was starting to fuzz over, any words that could leave your mouth doing so.

he bites down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood as he holds back from blowing his load. edging himself so you could finish at the same time. judging my your moans and your fucked out voice, you weren’t far off.

you pump 3 fingers in and out of you, massaging that spot inside of you while your thumb works on your clit occasionally. the pressure was building in your tummy to quick you didn’t even have the chance to tell the boy.

“shh shh sweets, don’t worry. m’ gonna see you this week n’ make you feel so- fuck- so fuckin’ good. you want that?” at this point, you could only reply with chants of ‘yesyesyespleasefuck’ and high pitched moans that made eddie’s hand flood with the familiar hot liquid while yours drips out of you.

your back arches off the bed as you drop the phone onto the bed next to you, your pants and moans filling your room as you come down from your high. listening to it almost made the curly haired boy hard again as he imagined how you looked right now - fucked out eyes falling asleep and glossy red lips from biting down on them.

“lick ‘em clean, princes. wanna hear you suckin’ on them fingers nice n’ good.” so you did, making it a point to pop off your fingers obnoxiously loud with a ‘mmmm’.

“you promise to see me this week?” you practically whisper down the phone, not wanted to sound pathetic despite the fact you literally finger fucked yourself to the sound of him.

“i promise, my sweet sweet girl. i’ll take you out somewhere real fancy and—“ you cut him off.

“no. i don’t want fancy… i just wanna do something with just us two. maybe watch a movie or somethin’.”

it sounded like absolute heaven to him. “of course, baby. i’ll call you tomorrow. thanks for helpin’ me get off.”

and with that he hangs up, leaving you red faced and slightly horny again at the thought of what you just did.

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

Hi there! Can i request platonic HCS of the Stellaron Hunters x blind teen reader?

So the reader is around 13-14 and was recently blinded by some monsters that scratch their eyes badly

How would the Stellaron Hunters take care of them? How long would it take for them to get attached to the teen?

Ofcourse! Appologies for this taking so long!

Characters: Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf

CW: Blood, big injury

Theme: Angst? I am not all that sure

Reader: Young Teen Male Reader

A/U: None

Premise: The reader is now blind and the Stelleron Hunters help them

THIS IS SFW

...................................................................................................................

Before being blinded:

You were a traveler. Always trying to find your place in the many worlds that you traveled too. It was hard when you were so young and never settled to make those relationships others had. However walking this new land with unknown monsters was not a good idea. Maybe if you went with others it would have been fine, but here you were alone facing a hoard of monsters. You weren't new to monsters, but these kinds seemed way more aggressive. It wasn't what you were expecting. You had basic knowledge of fighting things however this seemed out of your league. Before you knew it it attacked you off guard. Blood streamed down your face; you screamed in agony. You screamed and hopes of somebody would hear you. All hope was diminishing his blood drip down your face. You couldn't see anything anymore your eyes weren't there. However as if all hope was lost a glimmer of sunshine came. The lady with purple hair seem to fight this monster for you well another girl with silverish hair brought you to safety. Here you met the Stellaron Hunters. They were here to save you.

...................................................................................................................

KAFKA

Kafka is more protective of you

She doesn't baby you however

She knows really well that you are capable of taking care of yourself but she helps when you have things that you can't do

Takes on a mother role however more of an aunt

Takes you on missions however set you aside

You mostly stay at the ship though

Spends a lot of time with you

Teaches you things through speaking and giving you experiences

Tries to tell you that despite you being blind that you were able to accomplish anything

Feels guilty about not getting there sooner

Mostly takes walks with you

She's a very outdoorsy person

Listen to you all the time whether it's something silly or serious situation

Makes others take you seriously despite you being blind

Clever tries to babied you get to punch from her because she doesn't like you being babied for you being blind

...................................................................................

SILVERWOLF

She's very nonchalant about it

Doesn't really make a big deal out of it either

Treats you the same as she would treat anybody

Other indoorsy person so it doesn't really go out with you

When you do we'll go out though she keeps an eye on you through a camera or drone

Not in like a creepy way more of like surveilling you to make sure you're safe and so she can come in and or alert Kafka

Gives you books that are in Braille so you are able to read them or will read them to you

Very much like a big sister

Tolerate you more than anybody else

I'm looking at something to try to describe it to you in the best way possible

Doesn't it really regret not doing something however does regret alerting Kafka to late

You two tend to have a lot of deep conversation about things to try and distract each other from certain things when overwhelmed

Doesn't seem overprotective of you but deep down she does Panic a lot when you go out on your own

When someone tries to baby you she she says that you could do so much better than they could

Whenever given a chance she's slightly brags about how amazing you are despite adversities

...................................................................................

BLADE

Very much like a big brother

Makes it his repsonisbliy to take care of you

Refuses to take you on missions

Let's you walk around the area though unless if there are reports of monsters near by

Is accidentally overprotective of you

Doesn't mean to be but he just wants to keep you safe

Asks Kafka for a lot of guidance since he sees her as a sort of caregiver

He is always there when your in trouble

No matter what he is ready to kick ass for you when you want him too

After a while though does trust you enough to join him on missions

Still really protective and paranoid

Teaches you all he can about martial arts and such

Gets really upset when people baby you for being blind

Glares at people endlessly and silently threatens them

Will always give you affirmations when you doubt yourself and you believe them because he is not one to lie

...................................................................................

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[blueraineshadows]

*slams credit card on the table*💳💥 💳💥 i would sell my soul for a continuation of where seb and mc left off after he slipped that ring on her finger

😆 gotta love a cliffhanger! Here is the fic where Seb slipped a ring on her finger ---> HERE

Picking up where Seb has Apparated MC and himself away from the confrontation in Hogsmeade, and they are now in his Feldcroft cottage. NSFW 🌶🔥❤️

She didnt know how long they had sat, kissing, on the floor. She thought that maybe it could never be long enough. They had so much time to make up for. But then, Sebastian stood and held out his hand to her. MC took it and he helped her to her feet. He cupped her face, gently. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. The adrenaline of facing up to William like that had worn off, and tiredness pulled heavily at her, but she felt safe. "If someone had told me I would be standing here with you at the end of the evening, I would have thought them quite mad."

"Same," he said, smiling. His thumb brushed against her cheek, his smile fading. "Any regrets? I mean, what he said about your reputation, your job. Would he really make life that difficult for you?"

"He might," she sighed. She put her hand over his, her finger tips grazing gently over his knuckles. "But I could never regret leaving with you. I just wish I'd had the nerve to find you sooner."

"Well, we're together now," he said. "Let's not worry about William tonight. He can't get to us here. We can figure out our next move tomorrow, but whatever it is, I am going to be right there with you. And next time, I wont think twice about hexing his arrogant mug."

She nodded. At his mention of being here together, alone, her eyes drifted towards the curtain that closed off the sleeping area of the cottage. Her pulse skittered and she looked back at him.

"There are two beds," he said. He really had a talent for reading her like a book. "We don't have to share one if you'd rather not."

MC was reminded of the offer William had made to her only that morning, the very reverse of this one, trying to convince her to share a bed with him. The very thought had made her blood run cold.

Now, standing here with Sebastian, she realised that the thought of being parted from him, even if only across the room, was too much to bear right now. It had taken them years to finally be able to hold each other. How was she supposed to let go?

She cleared her throat. "Is there somewhere I can freshen up?"

"Of course," he said.

He warmed some water for the basin, and found a shirt for her to wear. When he went out to fetch some more fire wood, MC went behind the changing screen and began to loosen the ties for her dress. The corset was so tight, the back having been laced by William's house elf, a grim mouthed little thing she hadn't much cared for.

MC tugged and gave a frustrated groan at the blasted thing. She hated corsets and frivolous silks. She missed the freedom of cotton blouses and duelling trousers, much preferring sturdy boots to little kitten heels. She kicked off the offending heels and tugged the stockings from her legs.

The sound of the door announced Sebastian's return, and MC paused to peek around the changing screen. He put the logs in the basket before kneeling before the fire, feeding it to boost the flames. A swirl of chill night air had come into the cottage behind him and goosebumps spread up her arms.

She bit her lower lip, watching the way his shirt moved across his shoulders as he stoked the fire. Her intake of breath was a little shaky, and she pressed fingers to her collar bone, smoothing along the skin he had kissed, remembering hia searing kisses. She shivered.

She ducked back behind the screen, turning to face the wall, hand pressed to her throat against her fluttering pulse. "Sebastian?" She called. "Would you mind? I could do with a hand."

She heard his footfalls as he approached, her heart in her mouth, but she didn't turn to look as he paused by the screen. She could hear his breathing, feel the burn of his gaze on her back. "Could you help loosen the laces of my corset, please? It's too tight for me to do it properly."

"Of course, seeing as you asked so nicely." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

He joined her behind the screen, and anticipation made her body burn, the seconds stretching between the pause of his step and the feel of his fingers on the laces.

Her own fingers toyed with the silk of the gown, the bodice of which was pooled at her waist. He tugged at the laces, a knuckle brushing against the skin of her back, and she felt the corset begin to loosen. She sighed a little in relief, her breasts relaxing after being squished behind their bonds.

Once the corset was undone, her hands fluttered in front of her breasts, nervous. Should she hold the corset in place and dismiss him? Or, should she let it fall away from her flesh? She felt the last lace pull free and the corset sagged. She realised she was breathing a little faster, the sound soft in the confined space behind the screen.

Sebastian placed a warm palm between her shoulder blades, the touch gentle, and then his hand smoothed up to the nape of her neck. She sighed again, closing her eyes. She felt her breasts tighten at the touch, the peaks hardening against the loose corset.

Then, he was sliding the pins from her hair, slowly, one by one, his fingers easing her locks free to spill down her back. Another shiver washed over her at the feel of his hands in her hair. It was intimate, personal, and it filled her with a need so strong she could almost taste it.

His hands cupped her shoulders, smoothing down her arms to her hands where he linked their fingers. He lifted her arms just enough and the corset slid forward, exposing her. He was closer, she could feel the heat of his breath at her ear, it was as fast as her own soft gasps. She squeezed her fingers around his, hungry to feel those hands on her skin.

The heat of his mouth moved lower and he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him more access. His lips moved, his kisses becoming firmer at her willing invitation. The corset slid to the floor, forgotten, his hands releasing hers to skim her waist, sliding smoothly over her skin to settle below her breasts.

Her head fell back with a gasp, the movement lifting her breasts, begging for his caress. He was so gentle, a whisper of skin against skin as he cupped her, a thumb teasing softly over one hard nub. She moaned, the sound so close to his ear, it made him exhale sharply.

So intent was she on the feel of his hands caressing her breasts, she hadn't even realised that one of her own arms had reached up to thread fingers through his hair. His caress moved to her sides, finger tips smoothing over the reddened marks where the corset had pinched her. He bent to press a soft kiss there, just below her breast, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin.

She turned, needing to see him, his face was soft, his eyes darkened by his desire. She felt a sudden shyness, her arms hovering in front of her breasts. He held her close and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "We can stop," he whispered. "As much as I want you, I would never do anything you didn't want. You're safe with me."

She fiddled with the front of his shirt. "I want you too," she said. She felt a blush warm her cheeks. "It's just...I've never done anything like this before. I've never..."

She swallowed and looked down, but he caught her chin with gentle fingers, lifting her gaze to his. "Never? Not even with your fiancé?"

She shook her head. "He wanted to, but I couldn't. I didn't want to because...he wasn't you."

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise, he even blushed a little. "I'm not sure I deserve such an honour."

Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she wondered how many girls he had kissed, how many times he had taken one to his bed. It hurt her heart to think of it, but how could she blame him? He had owed her nothing. But, how could she ever live up to the girls who had come before her? She wanted to please him, she wanted him to feel the pleasure that he gave her. The brief touches she had already tasted held so much promise, her body burning desperately for him. She wanted to return that.

"Can you show me how?" The words were a whisper. "I don't want to disappoint you."

He held her face. "Listen to me," he said, firmly. "You could never disappoint me. You must never think that. Look at you! You're beautiful, just one look at you sends me spiralling. It drove me crazy seeing you in the pub earlier, so close and yet so out of reach."

"When you touch me it's like I'm going to be swallowed in flame," she admitted. "I've never felt like that with anyone. Just you."

"I have to admit, I do like the way that sounds," he said. A gleam entered his gaze. He leant his forehead against hers, his eyes on her mouth, his breath hot. "Mine, and only mine."

Her pulse fluttered and she stared at his lips, her tongue sliding to wet her bottom lip. "Will you take it?" She breathed. "Take what is yours, please."

The passion in his kiss seared through her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, claiming her as she had asked. She clung to him, arching her body to feel the warmth and safety she craved from him. He tugged at the last fastenings of the dress, his patience now gone and he yanked hard, the rending of torn silk reaching her ears. The dress sank to the floor and he lifted her out of it, carrying her to the bed.

He placed her on top of the blanket, pausing to shed his own clothing before joining her. Her eyes were greedy, taking in the toned muscle, the soft trail of hair that led down below his navel. And, of course, the hard shaft of his arousal.

She leant up on her elbows, a little breathless at the sight of him, even a bit intimidated by the size. She squeezed her thighs together at the thought of him inside her. But then he was kissing her, his mouth tasting her skin, moving down to take a breast into his mouth. She gasped, her hips lifting to aid him as he slid her underwear free. Now, they were both naked.

She pulled him against her, moaning at the feel of their skin finally pressed together. She moved against him, delighting in the friction.

"You feel so good," he gasped. His hand moved to her hip, rocking her against him, his arousal digging eagerly against her thigh.

She smoothed her palm over his behind, moulding it, loving the feel of it after admiring the way it curved through the fabric of his trousers. She moved her hand over his hip, hovering close to where he throbbed eagerly for her. He took her hand and guided her, wrapping it around his length. She looked down, fascinated, as he showed her how to stroke him. A sound left his throat and she smiled. She was making him feel good. It made her feel empowered. He wanted her and she could give him what he needed.

He returned the favour, his fingers seeking out her heat and she gasped, her thighs instinctively parting for him. He stroked with slow, deliberate caresses, her slick spreading to ease his teasing. She couldn't help the sounds that fell from her lips, her head fell back, and she was like a desperate, wanton thing. He swirled over her clit and she cried out, a pressure building as he stroked to a rhythm that had her panting and clutching at him.

She didn't think it could feel any better, but then he slid downwards and she stared, wide eyed as he moved his mouth close to where his fingers worked. Heat flooded her cheeks at the intimacy of this gesture and then he was kissing her there. His tongue replaced fingers and she thought she might actually die, the fire inside her flared so dangerously. She was soaring to a height that made her head spin, her pelvis rocked, the need to grind against him almost unbearable. "Sebastian," she panted. Her fingers gripped at his hair. "Oh...oh..."

She felt the dip of his fingers, probing gently, sliding slowly into her as his tongue drove her higher. He pumped his fingers, twisting and curling them, picking up the pace. She could hear the wet, desperate sound of herself, the pressure almost unbearable but Merlin's beard, she did not want it to stop. Her arm flung out, fingers gripping the blanket, tugging at the fabric as though she was about to slide off the edge of the world.

And then she felt a deep clenching sensation, fiery waves of delicious release washing over her, and her eyes squeezed shut, an animalistic sound bursting from her lips. She was breathing so hard and fast as her body became fluid, sinking back into the mattress, spent.

Sebastian withdrew his mouth and fingers, she whimpered, not just at the loss of him, but also at the little pulses of aftershock. He gathered her in his arms, pressing kisses to her breasts, her neck. His hand smoothing along her waist and down to spread her leg wider for him.

"You're amazing," he whispered. He kissed her mouth, his lips and tongue hot and wet. She could taste herself, and wondered briefly how he would taste if she took him in her mouth. She moaned, her hips flexing. She felt him reach down, the press of him against her slick folds.

"Relax," he urged. "Deep, even breaths. You're doing great, so fucking perfect."

He moved to kiss her ear, his tongue sliding along the outer edge. She could feel the fire reigniting, the coil of her need twisting into life. He pressed into her, his tip nudging gently, in and out, easing her. "That's it," he whispered into her ear. "Good girl. I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to make you mine. Is that what you want?"

She flushed hotly at his filthy words. Her breathing hitched madly in her throat, her body arching greedily. "Yes," she moaned.

He pressed in deeper and she felt the sting, the stretch. He stroked her, kissed her ear, easing back out and then in again. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned. "I need you."

She gripped his hips, lifting her own to meet him, her heels digging into the bed. With each gentle slide of him, in and out, the sting lessened. She moaned as the new, full feel of him began to send waves of tingles deep inside her. She glanced down, watching as he thrust.

His face was set in concentration, his brow creased, his lips parted with his pleasure. She could see the restraint he was clinging on to. The sting was gone, and he felt so good, so right.

"More," she urged.

He met her gaze. "Does it feel good?"

She nodded. He watched her, eyes lidded, and he thrust deep. She groaned and he slid right back, for a desperate moment she feared he would pull out all together, and she sank her finger nails into his hip, urging him to stay in. He smirked and thrust firmly, sinking all the way in. Her moan was his reward.

She couldn't tear her eyes from his as he kept up these deep, hard thrusts. She could feel that pressure building, making her soar higher again. This time, she knew what it meant, and anticipation tingled on her tongue.

He looked down at where they were joined. "Oh fuck," he panted. "Fuck, yes."

His words sent sparks of flame through her. Who knew she liked dirty talk? The rough edge to his voice was a massive turn on, she wanted more. She slid a palm down his chest, her finger tips trying out a teasing pinch of his nipple. He moaned, the sound giving her a thrill, so she pinched again, harder.

He shifted to lean on one elbow and then he began to thrust harder, faster, his other hand reaching down to grip under her knee. He bent her leg up, easing her open so she could take him even deeper. She felt the slide of him against somewhere deeply sensitive inside of her and she arched, his name spilling from her lips.

Her release gripped her, a sudden deep clench that made Sebastian utter a low growl, he buried his face into her neck, his teeth biting down into her skin. She whimpered, stunned at the raw emotions rushing through her, her body pulsing around him. And then he, thrust deep, holding himself there as he spurted his own release. She could feel the throb of it, her arms holding him close, his heart thundering against her chest.

For a while they lay quietly, holding each other, savouring the closeness. She nestled her face against his warmth, breathing in his scent, feeling a tension slide from her. This was absolutely where she belonged. She had known it back in the Three Broomsticks, and now it was confirmed.

She brought her hand up to look at his mother's ring on her finger, no, her ring. He had given it to her. He wanted her by his side forever. "When do you leave?" She asked.

"We leave in two days," he said. She looked up at his choice of words. He smiled. "How do you feel about Italy?"

"Isn't that where you just travelled from?"

He nodded. "It is, but I want to take you there. I want to see it all again through your eyes."

Her heart danced in her chest. This was actually happening! "I will need to fetch my things, and say a few goodbyes, Poppy will have wondered where I ran off to."

"We can do all of that," he smoothed her hair back from her face. His eyes grew serious. "I will never forget how you stood in front of me, blocking me like you did. When you reached back for me, holding yourself to me..."

He paused, swallowed hard. "I already knew I loved you, but what you did, it said more than any words. When he caught us, I thought you would have gone to him, but you didn't."

"I realised it was what I had always wanted," she said. "I had to stop letting William make my choices for me. It would always be you, Sebastian. Always."

....*....

When MC awoke, the bed beside her was empty. Immediately, she sat up. Wrapping a blanket around her, she moved out from behind the curtain and saw Sebastian with an owl, a letter in his hand. "What's that?" She asked.

He turned to her, pulling her closer to kiss her forehead. "Good morning," he said. He held up the letter. "From Ominis. I sent an owl after you fell asleep last night. This is his reply. He is meeting us in London when we collect your things."

"Really?" It would be nice to see him again, she realised. "What about William?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about him," Ssbastian said, his smile smug. "Ominis thought him a right prick, and has already used his connections to make sure he won't be a problem. Your reputation is perfectly intact. As for William's..."

MC widened her eyes. "My goodness! But, why would Ominis do all that for me?"

Sebastian frowned. "Why would he not?" He took her face in his hands. "I love you, he knows that, and he also cares for you, he wants us to have what we have always wanted. Each other. Like me, he would do whatever he had to in order to keep you safe, happy. People care about you, MC, people love you. You will never have to suffer the likes of William again as company."

Her throat felt rather thick all of a sudden. "Thank you."

"Ominis is also going to bear witness for us," he said. He slid a thumb over her lips, pressing a kiss there. "After collecting your things, we will marry. We can leave for Italy as man and wife. If you still want to, that is?"

"Oh, yes, Sebastian," she said. She wrapped her arms about him, the blanket slipping free of her grasp, but she didn't care. She was no longer shy of him. She clung to him, his arms strong and warm as they held her close. "It is exactly what I want."

[mychoombatheroomba]

I'll Be Missing You

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 44

Leon writes his letter to Sherry and you both continue to heal in different ways.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

He finished the letter just before lights out. You helped, even if you insisted that it hadn’t been much. 

It helps to have someone listen to it, Leon had insisted, reading you the words he’d written and rewritten until at last he was satisfied. You’d done your best to point out what you thought Reed and Hellman would want more vague explanations about, suggesting how to phrase some things. Otherwise, your supportive expression and quiet nods were enough. 

The letter, though . . . that would never be enough. It would never convey all that Leon wished to say, or all of his regrets. It would never right the wrongs that began that night in Raccoon City. 

It was a start, though. 

Sherry,

I will never be able to apologize enough for not writing back to you sooner. I’m sorry, I promise if I could have, I would have. 

I am okay. I can’t tell you everything, but just know that I’m okay, and I’m so glad to hear that you are too! I’m so glad that you’re feeling better! Told you that you would! You’re a regular Supergirl! I know it’s frustrating, not being able to go back to school. Just keep studying. It’ll be easier when they let you go back that way! I know I probably sound like a boring old fart, but it’s true! 

And hey, tell you what? I don’t want you missing out on all the fun. Go ahead and watch Star Wars without me! You can write back to me and tell me all about what you thought, if you want! In fact, that’s my mission for you! Watch as many movies as you can! Read as many books, and just have as much fun as you can! I want to hear all about it! 

I wish I could tell you what I’ve been doing these past few months or tell you about the people I’ve met. I wish I could have written to you sooner. I wish a lot of things.  Just know that I’m going to be trying to keep people safe, just like Claire did for you. And know that I didn’t forget you. Never could. I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit you. Someday soon, I hope. Until then, please keep writing to me. I’ll write you back every time, I promise!

Don’t get into too much trouble, okay? 

But even if you do, I know you’re smart enough to get out of it. Just stay safe, okay? Talk to you more soon, hopefully! 

I miss you too.

- Leon

It wasn’t perfect, but you nodded your approval as he finished reading it aloud all the same. “I think that’s good.” 

“Not too much?” Leon asked, eyes betraying his worry. 

“I’m not exactly an expert on writing letters.” 

Leon could sympathize. “Neither am I. Obviously.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d written home because . . . well, there was really no home to write to. He’d wondered if that was the same for you, but there had been enough painful memories resurrected that day. He wouldn’t ask. Maybe you’d tell him eventually, but the two of you had given the fallen their due deference. It was their day, after all, but now, Leon wanted to think of the living. 

He wanted to think of just how lucky the two of you were to have survived all that you did, because he’d come so close to never knowing you at all. He’d nearly lived in a world without you - something that in just a few months had become unthinkable to him. 

The thought of leaving you in a few weeks was painful enough in his heart. When this had all begun, he’d never entertained the possibility that he’d finish his training before you. You’d been here longer. Trained harder. You were the best and then . . . well, you both knew how easily disaster could befall you and change everything, didn’t you? He didn’t want to leave you behind. Not now. Not after all that the two of you had shared, and all that he wanted to share with you still. But he couldn’t heal the broken bones in your side any faster. All he could do was try and remind you that he was out there. That he would think of you every day. 

“I can write to you,” he offered. “When I . . .” he didn’t even want to say it, just as you didn’t want to think about it. Leon saw your expression fall, something in your eyes going a little distant. You were worried. He could see it. He would be worried too, he supposed. But maybe if he wrote to you . . . 

You didn’t say anything, at first, just listening to the ever-playing radio. 

“I mean, if you want-”

You didn’t give Leon’s doubt time to grow, and he was grateful for that. “I do.” Your answer was simple and straightforward, as it always was. 

And as always, it made Leon smile. “I will, then.” 

“You’d better.” There was something in your voice. Strained. Brittle. Ready to break. Your voice had sounded like that throughout your entire tale of what happened that night in Finland. Then, as now, you hadn’t been able to look Leon in the eye as you spoke. 

So, he reached for your hand, his brow furrowing as the skin to skin contact made your nostrils flare and your lips purse. Like you were resetting the mask you wore. If that was what you needed right now, even if it hurt to see, Leon understood. That still didn’t stop him from holding your hand, even if for just a few moments of silence. 

Moments that ended when you spoke, your voice soft. “And you’d better be careful, too,” you finally said, and the desperation of your words . . . it gave Leon pause because he’d never heard you like that before. 

He knew exactly why you were making that demand of him now, too. He knew it was because the memories of those you’d lost weighed on you still, because you cared for him. 

Because you didn’t want his to be a story you told and mourned in a year. 

“I will be,” he agreed, but when you finally turned to him, he knew that his words weren’t enough. 

“You have to be-”

Your name slipped from his lips, and he leaned in, his free hand finding your cheek. Making you look into his eyes fully so you would know the sincerity of his promise. “I will be.” Because he wouldn’t leave you alone. He would come back to you, he could feel it in his bones. Whatever other fears he held, he couldn’t let you be another unwalked path, another what if in his life. Another joy taken from him. You wouldn’t lose each other, he would make sure of it. 

You would be different. 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he told you, and he could see you fight tooth and nail for even the tiniest of smiles to form. And when he still saw doubt in your eyes, he leaned in further. You always were someone who preferred action to words, anyway. 

The kiss didn’t last as long as he’d like, but it, like his letter, was a start. A promise. 

You searched his eyes when you separated, and Leon felt such a beautiful pain in looking at you, because he knew now what you’d been through. He knew what you’d lost, he knew what you feared to lose. And he knew exactly why you asked your next question. 

“How can you believe that so easily?” 

Honestly, Leon didn’t know. He had expected only death and pain in his future when he’d been forced to join STRATCOM. He went to sleep every night fearing that he’d relive Raccoon City, and now he was a few weeks away from facing it down in his waking hours too. He had prepared himself for that. What he hadn’t prepared for was you. Your presence and the friendships he’d forged despite the odds . . . if he could find something good in this hell, then maybe not everything was lost. “Not saying it’s easy to believe,” he grinned, “but I do anyway.” 

You scoffed a laugh at that, shaking your head but not moving away. “I hope you’re right, then.” 

“So do I.” He had to be. 

Because the world owed you both that much. It owed you the chance to heal, even if only a little. It may not give you much of one, but . . . well, if it was a lifetime of dressing each other’s wounds, of putting each other back together . . . then maybe he could find it in him to face what was to come. 

Maybe he could have hope again. 

⧫⧫⧫

“You’re looking better.” 

You tried not to frown at the words, because, encouraging as they were, “better” wasn’t healed. It didn’t mean you were back in fighting shape. You still had several weeks before that was the case. Still, after the weeks of rest you’d already endured, it at least was starting to hurt less to breathe. That was something. Seeing the x-rays of your slowly healing ribs was something of a comfort too. To you, to Doc, and to Krauser, who stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a wall on the far side of the room. 

“Should be on track if you keep the rest up like you have been,” Doc told you, though you knew the report was for the Major as well. 

Krauser had been . . . well, he’d been quiet these last few weeks. Since Memorial Day, really. You’d seen him mostly at night when the two of you set up for the next morning’s lessons, but even then, there hadn’t been many words exchanged between the two of you. A few months ago, that wouldn’t have bothered you. Now, though . . . well, things were changing, weren’t they? 

“I’d still give it a while,” the Doc went on, “but you should be okay to move a bit more in two weeks, give or take.” Two weeks and then you could start training again fully. That meant four before Leon’s graduation . . . 

“Good,” Krauser cut in, his voice curt as it had been the few times he’d really spoken to you these last few days. “Then I want you with the new recruits in melee drills. No fighting, but you’re going to be giving notes. Watching their technique.” 

Your brows furrowed as you looked towards the Major, and you were hit with a feeling of deja vu. And a feeling of confusion, because when Krauser had pulled you in to spar with Leon’s old squad, he’d done it to get you more practice. Watching people fight wasn’t useless in developing skills, you knew, but so much of the extra help you’d given Leon had been because you could physically cross blades with him - him and the rest. If you couldn’t actually fight, though . . . “Not sure how much help I’ll be to you if I can’t demonstrate.” 

“Not me you’re going to be helping,” Krauser corrected, somehow sounding more displeased than he already had been recently. “Reed and the other instructors are taking over their combat drills for the time being.” 

And just like that, you were pissed off too. 

“What?” Your voice took on a tone of incredulity, your focus completely turning away from the Doc because the sheer notion of Krauser not being the main instructor-

The Major’s frown didn’t lessen, but he shook his head and clarified all the same. “Just for the new blood. Hellman and I have things to set up, so we needed to reallocate responsibilities.” He pursed his lips together, then his chest rose as he took a breath. “I need someone watching to make sure he’s not teaching them bullshit.” 

Because he didn’t trust Reed. 

You couldn’t blame Krauser for that. You sure as hell didn’t trust the agent either. You wouldn’t even agree to help that bastard in any way if it weren’t Krauser asking - if you didn’t know that he had his reasons. As it was, however quiet the Major had been with you these last few days, this set your mind at ease because if he didn’t trust Reed, this request proved that he did trust you. So, there was only one answer you could give. “I’ll do what I can.” 

Krauser nodded, his expression that had been so stormy as of late calming just a touch. A moment, that’s all it was, and then the Major pushed off from the wall, his expression resetting once more. “Good,” he said simply, and was about to show himself out when the door opened in front of him. 

Someone you didn’t know stepped in - a man about your age, his face drawn in an expression of pain and one hand wrapped around his wrist. One of the more recent recruits, you realized. His eyes widened though, as soon as he caught sight of Krauser standing in front of him. “Major! Sir! Sorry. I was told to have the Doc look at-” 

“Then what are you wasting time talking to me for?” Krauser deadpanned before stepping aside, making way for the young soldier to scurry past. 

He’d taken a bad fall from the obstacle course, he explained. It didn’t take long for the Doc to have a rudimentary diagnosis. “Probably a sprain,” he informed the soldier, then looked your way, finding you ready and waiting. “You know what to do?” 

“Ice it and wrap it,” you answered, already moving towards the door. 

Once there, Krauser stopped you with a raise of his pale brow. “Been playing medic, too?” He said it like he almost couldn’t believe it of you. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have, either. 

“You told me to make myself useful,” you shrugged, glad that you could pull off that small movement without being in agony, now. 

By the smile Krauser gave you, you could tell that he was glad too. “Well then get to it.” 

You surprised yourself by giving him a smile back. “Yes, sir.” 

He was gone by the time you returned, allowing you and the Doc to wrap the recruit’s wrist in peace. Your work was observed and approved of with a nod . . . and a surprise when evening fell. 

You’d never thought that half of a homemade sandwich would look so good. 

The Doc looked more than a little amused as he handed it to you, no doubt because of the surprise on your face. “Fair payment for fair work,” he told you. “But not a word of this to anyone. Can’t have people thinking I’m running a deli out of the med bay.” 

You nodded, taking the first homemade meal you’d had in . . . well, maybe in years, with an eagerness you hadn’t expected. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Doc.” 

You already had your fair share of secrets to keep, after all. What was one more? 

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Chapter Index

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Took a little break from tumblr, but I'll be updating regularly again! Also, we're almost caught up to ao3 now! Anyone reading and enjoying this deserves a medal for putting up with how long this shit is XD But seriously, I so so appreciate anyone reading this story, I have loved writing it, I hope you all have loved reading it!

[the-witty-pen-name]

Edward Nashton (The Batman) x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

College AU

Warnings: Stalking & other creepy behavior, Manipulation, Incel/Misogynistic Mindset, Alcohol and other substances, Descriptions of Smut and Masturbation, Cursing

As usual, this is unedited and if there are any tags or warnings I may have forgotten to include, please let me know.

THIS IS AN 18+ STORY WITH DARK THEMES, PAY ATTENTION TO WARNINGS AND MINORS DNI

You’re so sweet. Soft and warm, and everything that just clouds his focus. He’s memorized every curve, and the natural sway when you walk into a room. It’s like sunshine when you smile, and he notices the way they gravitate towards you. Of course they do, they all do. He’s not naive enough to believe he’s not the only one who wants to be near you. It’s effortless, the way people are drawn to you. But it’s in vain, every time, polite rejections that leave people somehow liking you more. You’re loyal, such a good girl for him, because you know you’re his.

His first impression of you was stereotypical. He pegged you to be another daft popular girl who has clawed her way to the top of the social ladder. Superficial and dumb, being able to use your looks for everything. His observations of people and their trends led him to assume, which he regrets. Somehow, you break the mold, everything he’s observed about social hierarchy out the window. It’s infuriating at first, because you’re just so nice- like god just made you out of a small piece of heaven. Fuck, and you’re so smart.

The first time you interrupted the professor in lecture to correct him (politely, of course- a sweetheart) he thought it was puzzling. You were puzzling. A challenge to figure out, to open up slowly and unravel. It started out innocently, just the sheer curiosity gnawing at him. You were a mystery, and he needed to satisfy that curiosity that was becoming more and more bothersome.

It’s easy to find your full name on the professor’s class roster, all he needed to do was pretend to have questions during office hours. The dimwit goes to get coffee and he’s able to sneak a peak at the list without disrupting anything on the desk. It goes perfectly. And one search on Instagram takes him to your page easily. Except it’s a good damn book dedicated Instagram. Irritating, honestly, but he applauds you for keeping your actual account private, which is the second account in the list of suggestions. It’s dumb that you can’t zoom in on profile pictures.

For now, he settled on lurking at the bookstagram, as you called it in the bio. Cute. That night at home instead of working on his other projects, he stayed up reading each of the long captions you’d written out reviewing each book you had read. Some of them he recognized as ones that were very popular, others were classics, some graphic novels, it was a rather eclectic mix of genres. He liked that. No non-fiction though, he made note. Interesting. He can’t blame you for that.

Once he worked his way through your page, he ends up ordering a few of the titles on Amazon. He’d usually opt for the library, which he used for some other titles you said you liked that he placed holds for. But to get started sooner, the two day shipping was a godsend. He figured he’d have one with him in class, keep it on his desk, carry it around campus with the cover outward, an attempt to catch your eye. Strike up a conversation, figure out something else about you.

He also found himself wanting to read some of these just because of how your posts made them sound. However, his main motive was to use them as a prop in an attempt to have an excuse to talk to you. He would lure you in to him, so he doesn’t have to go out of his way. It’s more natural this way. You’re the social butterfly, fluttering around being outgoing and sociable while he was the quiet one. The mysterious, reserved one. It makes more sense for you to reach out to start that first important conversation than him. And with a copy of a book you rated five stars in hand, he thinks it will work out just as he would like to.

He’d document your schedule as close as he could manage. Observe your daily routine, where you go, when. That way he can plan where he can run into you. Running to the campus coffee cart between classes for you to see him casually reading Madeline Miller or James Joyce or Ottessa Moshfegh or Fredrik Backman something else you’ve read that’s just popular enough to not make you suspicious.

Edward is very good at being invisible. It’s not even something he needs to try at. He’s gone his whole life being naturally ignored, dismissible. He can hide in plain sight as he marks down the time in his journal when you are leaving your third and last class of the day. He sits at the picnic benches outside the dining hall that are on the far side of the quad. From here, he can see almost all of the main campus. It also helps most of the building are comprised of large windows. He can watch you in your dorm building, right up to your floor until you disappear behind your door.

It’s up to him to imagine the rest of your routine as he walks back to his own dorm. The things you do when your doors are closed and you realize you’re alone again, your roommate spending the night with that quarterback boyfriend of hers.

He imagines everything. The way your backpack thuds and how you kick off your sneakers and leave them haphazard on the floor by the door. Your bra off in one fluid motion and tossed into your hamper without even having to look to see if it went in. You sit at your desk, and feed the pet fish you aren’t supposed to have. Naughty girl. You get started on your work right away. Getting the tedious chore out of the way so you can surrender yourself to your bed. Most people just give in to that temptation right away. Not you. You opt to sit incorrectly in your chair, and change from one obscure position after the other (that’s why your back hurts by the way, darling) until you’ve written your last discussion post and submitted the last paper. Then, you enjoy yourself. He imagines you might love your routines. He can put himself right there on the bed, paperback book folded in his hands that is ignored, because he’s so focused on you.

You’re someone whose routine involves a lot of walking back and forth. From the bathroom, to your dresser, to the bathroom again, to your vanity, to your closet, until you’ve successfully paced around the room enough times to spark the carpet. He’ll tease you, his own routine more carefully constructed and requires much less products- although he can imagine himself adding more once you share with him the things he should be doing.

You’ll walk around in your favorite little pair of pajama shorts- or better yet you might steal his boxers to sleep in. Paired with his shirt, and he’s enraptured with the way your chest strains the material. He thinks you’d look really cute with the towel wrapped around your hair fresh out of the shower, walking around the room brushing your teeth desperately looking for something that is never in the right place. Then the towel strewn over your desk chair and he watches intently as you care for your hair. And the way you apply lotion head to toe, and the way the sweet scent of it fills the whole room. You’d get shy when you finally notice he’s been looking at you. It’s so fucking cute. He can hardly stand not holding you when you look at him that way.

He’s probably screwed himself, not thinking about the side effects of using a scented lotion until after he’s finished, but he can’t even find it in him to care right now. His heavy breaths fill his room, and he needs to clean himself up. It’ll be fine. It was worth it, he thinks, to have something that smells like you to allow him to slip into his little fantasy. His whole room smells of strawberry and brown sugar, and he just wallows in the way the empty feeling in his stomach just makes him yearn for you. That time it all felt too fucking real.

His mind almost scares him, how the imagines he conjures up can become like memories. He knows they are a figment of his imagination, but sometimes that line between his false memories and his much more depressing reality becomes more and more blurred the more he dreams of you.

It finally happens the next time he’s outside having his lunch. He’s sitting under a tree in the quad, occasionally taking bites of his sandwich but the book he’s reading is taking up the majority of his attention. He’s gotten lost in the pages, and he doesn’t even remember the rest of the world exists until a shadow steps in front of the sun, blocking the light from hitting the pages he was engrossed in.

“I loved that book,” a voice says. He can hear the smile in your tone. You’re actually acknowledging his existence. He needs to give himself a pep talk before he can even bear to look up and face you.

“I o-only just started,” he says sheepishly, looking down- adamant on staring at a blade of grass in front of him.

“Cool,” you reply, “You need to tell me what you think of it, okay? See ya, Eddie.”

Eddie? No one in his life has ever called him Eddie. He detested being called Eddie until this exact moment. He hated the nickname, always thinking it was childish and demeaning. But not when you say it. It’s so sincere, and so nice the way the syllables fall off your lips. Just you. You are the exception to his disdain for it. He’ll be Eddie for you- your Eddie. Loyal, devoted, head over heels for only you Eddie.

He thinks about all the ways he wants to hear you call him that. In-between laughs, slapping his arm playfully when one of his jokes makes you laugh. A lighthearted chastising, your head tilted in skepticism as he tells you about all the elaborate plans he’s made for the future. A choked sobbed in surprise and excitement when he gets down on one knee. A breathy, whispered moan in his ear when he’s fucking you gently, pulling you apart, or a scream out in ecstasy when you’re begging him to let you cum- shit. He places the book on his lap, and pretends to check his phone while he waits for when he can get up. He groans at how painful it is, to not be able to have you now like how he wants.

It’s not like he makes it a habit to follow you. Sometimes, it’s a pleasant surprise when it happens all on it’s own. However, more often than not, it’s not up to chance. It’s a calculated, meticulous plan to execute the ideal rom com meet cute. You deserve that. The movie perfect romance where he, the right guy, magically is ushered in under quirky circumstances and somehow the meetings turn into feelings.

This is too Pretty in Pink, the god awful frat party in this huge house on campus. He still can’t believe he got in. But as luck would have it, roommate’s quarterback boyfriend needed a few passing assignments to keep from failing Calculus. And with that, Edward Nashton has somehow managed to score an invite to the biggest Halloween party of the semester- and of course, you’d be one of the many attendees. However, you don’t need an invite. You’re expected. These are your friends and you run in their circles. Also, any girl who shows up on this doorstep tonight is going to get in without a fret- no invite or name drop needed. He on the other hand needs to convince the two surly guys at the door he got an invite from their surly friend and after a while of back and forth they reluctantly let him in.

He’s elbow to elbow with tons of sweaty, gyrating strangers as he tries his best to navigate the house. The stairs, the hallways, every room is packed and the flashing lights also obscure his vision. There’s a deejay in the common room, the speakers blasting electronic music are making the floor vibrate. He is so out of his element, but he’s here for you. Because he’s a good boyfriend to you, and he goes places he doesn’t like but that makes you happy.

He’ll gladly hold your bags when you go shopping. He’ll think about everything you find important. Color, texture, finding the perfect things… he will wander with you for hours until you’re happy. He’ll absolve any worry. He will never tell you the rather poor shape of his finances at the moment, but it’s not important. Anything you want, he’ll let you just charge his card. You’re worth it.

Book stores. He knows how often you frequent them from the time you spend together, and the library- based on the barcodes on the pictures you post on your Instagram. He’s even got your card number memorized. He’ll bring you there, find a corner and just read together. You seem to be more into contemporaries, it will be a good balance. He tends to favor more classics himself but he’ll appease you and let you tell him about whatever book you just read- cover to cover, fuck spoilers. He just wants to watch the way talking about it excites you.

He hangs back, just resting his back against the wall. He still hasn’t seen you yet, but he’s content to wait, you too have all night. He watches as people dance and try to yell over the music. The flashes from cameras make his eyes hurt. He’s never observed a more self-absorbed crowd. They chug down whatever mystery concoction they have in their red cups and he hopes that you know better than to trust whatever is in there.

There’s puffs of smoke from a girl in leather pants and basically a top that might as well be a bra as she passes around a joint for her and her friends to share. It stinks up the whole house, and he just knows he’s going to reek of it. He looks down at his phone, trying to pretend he’s doing something. Anything to make himself look indifferent and not at all desperate and out of place. He’s not sure how well he’s doing.

You’re holding a can of something. You’re a smart girl to choose something here where you can break the seal yourself. You hold it in a way where your palm covers the open top as you let your friend weave the two of you through the crowd, giggling amongst yourselves. You look radiant when you’re like this. Happy and carefree from letting just a little bit of your inhibitions down. You work so hard, you deserve a little bit of fun. He just wished it wouldn’t be places like this. He doesn’t understand how everyone here can just keep to themselves when just you passing through the room disrupts the atmosphere. You smell like peach body mist, and it just hits him back against the wall when it wafts by him.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle as your friend drags you past. You offer him a friendly smile, and hold up your High Noon as a wave he thinks. Either way, he couldn’t care less. You look so beautiful, and you smiled at him. You’re happy because of him. You’re happy he’s here. His chest puffs up slightly in pride, and he can feel himself naturally stand up a little bit straighter.

“I finished the book,” he calls after you, instinctively reaching into the inner pocket of his coat to take out his copy- to give you his annotated copy. By some miracle, you hear him. He can see your eyes light up, and you signal to your friend to go on without you.

“Did you like it?” you ask excitedly, shouting over the music, leaning in closer to hear him. His breath catches in his throat and he’s not sure he can muster up enough air to answer. He finally manages out a yes, and you look confused- clear you can’t hear him. “Let’s go outside!” you say over the music and point towards the kitchen. He gulps and nods, following your lead.

Crowds just seem to naturally part for you, and your presence is met with hellos and other greetings. You smile, and acknowledge each person who acknowledges you and you just make it look so effortless. He trails behind you closely, trying hard to not stare. You push open the back screen door, and there’s a small back porch. You’ve clearly been here before. He wonders what has brought you back here. A fight, a messy breakup, just needing air, or maybe it’s the stress you must feel being so obligated to make appearances. Either way, it’s a special place, and he’s so honored you’re sharing it with him.

“Much better,” you note, the sounds of the party muffled. “So you liked it?”

“Y-yeah,” he fumbles trying to take the copy out of his coat. He somehow manages to hand it over to you. “I uh, thought you’d want to look through my notes.”

“Cool,” you smile, “Definitely. Thanks.” You tuck it under your armpit, opting to give him your full attention. “What was your favorite part? Ah, none of my other friends are readers and I’m desperate to talk to someone about it!”

His brain short circuits when you say the words ‘I’m desperate’ out loud and he pretends to clear his throat. You also said ‘my other friends’ which clearly implies Eddie is a friend. That’s it? That’s okay, he tells himself. Good girls like you go slow, and he knows that you’re worth it.

“I really loved- uh, I underlined it,” he begins, and gestures to the book. You hand it over and he mumbles a small thanks, pushing his glasses up. He flips through the tabbed pages, and searches until he finds the right page.

“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”

He looks up, and the way you are looking at him has him convinced you know. You know that quote pulled every single thought that he ever thought of you and put it there in black and white. The way he feels the tension between the two of you rise as a silent lull clouds gently over the two of you- like you’re the only two people here. Every painful reminder of the false memories he conjures feels like they are slipping away, and his mind is ready to make tangible ones with you- memories he can feel, and experience with all his senses.

“That’s one of my favorite passages too,” you muse, and he nods. He’s sure his face is as pink as your top that he’s just noticed how it fits so snugly around your chest just oh so perfectly- fuck are you even wearing a bra?

“Yea- uh..” before he’s able to even respond, the screen door creaks open and someone calls out your name. The interruption seems to startle you both slightly.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” the guy says poking his head out. Muscular, tall, backwards hat and a tank top with arm holes that almost reach the waist of his… ah, camo cargo shorts. Seriously, sweetheart, where do you even find these people? Oh, a mouth breather as well…

“No it’s okay, Chris, um,” you force a smile, and take a step back from him. Your attention now focused on the frat boy who looks like he’s trying his hardest to spark a thought by rubbing his two final brain cells together. “This is Eddie,” you say, introducing him, “We’re in a class together. We were just talking about a book we both read.” He purses his lips together and forces a closed lip smile toward this other person.

“Eddie, this is my boyfriend Chris.”

Boyfriend.

The large doofus has the audacity to just jerk his chin upwards as some form of acknowledging Edward’s existence, before he steps out onto the porch to press a kiss to your lips, and Edward feels like his entire world is just going to collapse in on himself at any moment.

How could you have a boyfriend? You made no attempt to see him these past weeks, or Edward would have seen. How could this major fucking road block not have reared it’s ugly head until now? You have a boyfriend, and it’s not looking like he’s going anywhere the way he’s snaking his arms around you from behind. You wiggle out of his grasp, not comfortable with the PDA which he can appreciate at least.

“Nice to meet you,” he manages to stutter out before sliding the book back into the inner pocket of his jacket. “I’m gonna be heading out soon anyways so-”

“It’s so early though!” you pout, “It’s too bad, but we’ll hook up at the next one, yeah?”

You have no idea how you’re able to take his breath away. It gets lodged in the back of his throat and he feels his cheeks redden. He knows what you mean, nothing sexual or physical by any means, but fuck- he could swear you do this on purpose. Your little innocent phrases with double meanings, and your suggestive stares, and just how fucking sweet you are.

“Y-eah, f-for sure,” he blushes, making his leave heading down the back stairs. He cuts across the back yard to his dorm building to call it a night.

You’re right that it was early, but there was no point in sticking around that cesspool of a house if you were just going to be tongue tied with that fucking guy for the rest of the night. He’d rather not see that. He needs to devise a new plan. A way for you to realize you’re wasting your time with this loser, and to realize that your Eddie has been there this whole time- patient and just ready to worship you if you only let him.

[somethingsteff]

🍄 and 🖍️ please!

Full list here!

🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Hmmmm. Fanfiction writing/reading + unwanted help (or criticism) = eventual true love.

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

The previous ask made me want to post a sentence from my wip that is currently only an outline, so I had to go back and actually write something. And then I decided "I do what I want" and wanted to post more than a sentence. 😂😂 Thanks, Pal!!

Anakin walked out of the movie theater feeling… incomplete. His friends were all talking about where they wanted to eat in the food court now that the movie was over, but his head was still swirled up in the plot he'd just seen unfold.

What if Ewan had gotten to Hayden sooner? Would he have been able to stop his fall to the dark side? And what about Natalie? Why didn't she trust Ewan more when he came to help? He was Haydens master, his mentor! Surely if the two of them had only-

“Anakin! Are you listening to us?” Ayla was waving her hand in front of his face. “What time is your mom picking us up?”

He snapped his attention back to his group of friends. Padme hadn't been all that interested in coming to see Star Wars, but between Ayla, Kitster, and himself she had been convinced to tag along. She only looked like she mildly regretted it.

“She'll be here in…” he looked at his watch. “Another hour. But she said that if we still wanted to walk around after she got here that she'd stay in the book store for another hour to wait for us.”

He hoped it wouldn't come to that, though. He wasn't sure how much he could participate in their conversation right now when they all seemed content to just not talk about the movie.

It wasn't even that he had any build up going into the film. He'd seen the first two movies when they came out and liked them just fine. Well enough that when the third one got announced he was the catalyst for this outing, but not so much that he needed to go on opening day or anything. But something about this one stuck to him. He couldn't shake the questions and ideas that were tumbling around in his head.

What if Hayden had been sent with Ewan to go after Grievous? What if someone else had gone entirely? Would Ewan have kept Hayden from meeting with the Chancellor? Or would Hayden have ended up telling Ewan about him being a Sith instead of going to Samuel?

Anakin continued to ignore his friends while they all ate, picking at his own fries and offering an occasional “mmm” in response to their attempts at drawing him into conversation. Eventually they stopped all together and contented themselves with discussing their upcoming school year. Another reason Anakin was glad to tune them out.

Padme and Ayla were a couple years older than Kitster and him and were starting their third year of high school, but for the two boys it would be their first. Anakin had been avoiding the topic whenever possible, but Kitster seemed excited to speculate what their classes and teachers would be like. Anakin was more than happy to leave him to Padme and Ayla's advice. He already knew his plan; keep his head down, work hard to get good grades, maybe join the robotics club, and just focus on getting out the other end. The strategy had always worked well for him in the past.

Besides, right now all he could think about was where he might find some message boards online to see what other people were thinking about Star Wars…

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 2: Saidin

I am running out of pictures so rapidly it's alarming. It's as if I've moved beyond the territory of the show and the comic books and so all we've got left is text, which is apparently terrible for engagement. Also terrible for engagement is warning people about spoilers, which is why I won't tell anyone who doesn't already know that this post contains spoilers for the whole of The Wheel of Time series. Come right in and make lots of outraged replies about how I've ruined everything for you instead.

This chapter starts with the dragon's fang symbol, probably because it's literally called "Saidin" and Rand will be fucking things up with it.

All the women who came insisted on speaking to Moiraine immediately, and alone. The news that Moiraine chose to share with the rest of them did not always seem very important, but the women held the intensity of a hunter stalking the last rabbit in the world for his starving family.

It's almost like they're working for an Aes Sedai, and not just any Aes Sedai but one of the few left who tries to live up to the old standard. I'd think that pretty important too unless I was literally dyingn of thirst.

Or ever, he added to himself. Moiraine had kept them there all winter. The Shienarans did not think she gave the orders, not here, but Perrin knew that Aes Sedai somehow always seemed to get their way. Especially Moiraine.

I get that you're stir-crazy bro but do you really WANT to be wandering the wilderness in the middle of winter, fighting battles that you can avoid by staying still? What alternatives do you have other than "Don't do what Moiraine wants because she's Aes Sedai"?

“The Tinker woman is going to die,” she said softly, eyeing the others near the fires. None was close enough to hear.

It's times like this you can remember why Min doesn't particularly want her powers. She's probably seen quite a few people who were going to die soon by this point, just because when you walk by so many people in a city it's bound to happen sooner or later.

“Is that her name? I wish I didn’t know. It always makes it worse, knowing and not being able to. . . . Perrin, I saw her own face floating over her shoulder, covered in blood, eyes staring. It’s never any clearer than that.” She shivered and rubbed her hands together briskly.

I wonder if these omens she sees are realistic enough to be as traumatizing as seeing the actual thing.

He thought of the wolves. No! The scouts would find anyone or anything trying to approach the camp.

Good job helping fulfill Min's prophecy, Perrin. Things might have been different if you'd used your resources to your fullest advantage.

She had told him; she had tried warning people about bad things when, at six or seven, she had first realized not everyone could see what she saw. She would not say more, but he had the impression that her warnings had only made matters worse, when they were believed at all.

Poor Min.

It had made him cautious and careful, and regretful of his anger when he let it show. “I am sorry, Min. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I did not mean to hurt you.” She gave him a surprised look.

Really I think my problem with Perrin is that it's very obvious that he has completely over-corrected for problems in the past to the point where he's now too afraid to do much of anything on his own.

“Strange,” she said softly, “how you seem to care so much about the Tuatha’an. They are utterly peaceful, and I always see violence around—” He turned his head away, and she cut off abruptly.

And again, it's other women tearing Perrin apart with words much more than him hurting them physically or emotionally. Perrin's problem is that at heart he absolutely agrees that violence is damaging even in self-defense but he exists in an Age where that self-defense is very necessary.

She rolled her eyes at Perrin, a wry twist to her mouth. “All I wanted was to live as I pleased, fall in love with a man I chose. . . .” Her cheeks reddened suddenly, and she cleared her throat.

1. Min, almost no one chooses who they fall in love with. 2. You're lucky you're blabbering in front of Perrin and Loial and not anyone with an understanding of love because for all your "don't like to talk about your visions" thing, you sure are signposting it for everyone.

The Ogier looked at them, suddenly shy, his ears twitching. “Promise you will not laugh? I think I might write a book about it. I have been taking notes.”

Really, you could argue that Loial has hardly been swept up into the ta'veren stuff at all yet. If he'd met anyone so interesting as Rand and crew, he might have chosen to go traveling with them anyway. After all, his choosing to leave the groves had nothing to do with them.

Uno, who could hardly say a sentence without a curse, spoke now with the deepest respect. The others echoed him. “Honor to serve.” Masema, who saw ill in everything, and whose eyes now shone with utter devotion; Ragan; all of them, awaiting a command if it were Rand’s pleasure to give one.

While Rand of course dislikes this treatment, I do think that having to deal with this for a few months is the start of his arrogance. You can't be treated like this by every normal person you spend time with without it starting to rub off on you.

And aside from Moiraine and Lan, there were only the three of them—Min, Loial, and him—who did not stare at Rand as if he stood above kings. And of the three only Perrin knew him from before.

It's rather unfortunate that Perrin instinctively understands why Rand needs him here and tosses that aside much later on in the story. All three of the boys seem to backslide a bit as a result of what happens to them.

A man—a thing!—everyone was taught to loathe and fear from childhood. Only . . . it was hard to stop seeing the boy he had grown up with. How do you just stop being somebody’s friend?

Prejudices - even really rational ones like "Don't trust the dudes who can and will melt you in their sleep" - tend to have a hard time sticking around in the face of empathy, which Perrin to his credit does have a lot of. It's why he's a little better at dealing with this stuff than Mat.

He began to laugh mirthlessly, his shoulders shaking. “I have the duty, because there isn’t anybody else, now is there?”

Rand's not going mad from the taint here, but rather from the reality of his position finally setting in. The weight of the world is on his shoulders so it's understandable that he's cracking under the strain. And that more than anything is why Moiraine is right to have him wait - if he did go out onto the Plain in this state he'd probably snap in battle instead of thrive like he has before.

Perrin almost laughed himself, in confusion. “If you agree with her, why in the Light do you argue all the time?” “Because I have to do something. Or I’ll . . . I’ll—burst like a rotted melon!”

Like Perrin, Rand's big problem in this sequence is that he doesn't have any viable alternatives and just whines a lot instead. There's a lot Rand could be doing (more training with Lan, trying to learn politics from Moiraine, studying with Loial, etc.) but instead of dedicating himself to his fate he just laments all the deaths that are happening in his name instead. This is naturally only going to lead to more problems down the line.

Rand shivered; despite the chill, there was sweat on his face. His eyes were still shut tight. “Oh, Light,” he groaned, “it pulls so.”

Nope, this isn't taint madness either (I will be doing my best to demonstrate to you why NONE of his craziness in this book can be chalked up to that specifically). Remember: Rand is a wilder and he's still in that awkward "could easily draw enough power to burn himself out because he doesn't even know the proper exercises for starting out with the power" phase.

Rand stood with his head thrown back, his eyes still shut tight. He did not seem to feel the thrashing of the ground that had him now at one angle, now at another. His balance never shifted, no matter how he was tossed. Perrin could not be certain, being shaken as he was, but he thought Rand wore a sad smile. The trees flailed about, and the leatherleaf suddenly cracked in two, the greater part of its trunk crashing down not three paces from Rand. He noticed it no more than he noticed any of the rest.

The land and Rand are one, so he externalizes his temper tantrum out onto the world to avoid having to acknowledge his actual feelings.

Rand looked around as if seeing things for the first time. The fallen leatherleaf, and the broken branches. There was, Perrin realized, surprisingly little damage. He had expected gaping rents in the earth. The wall of trees looked almost whole.

And of course, Rand hasn't really addressed any of his internal issues so while he's a little disheveled, nothing has actually changed.

“They’re always there, dreams,” Rand said, so softly Perrin barely heard. “Maybe they tell us things. True things.” He fell silent, brooding.

Rand is of course also snapping under the pressure of Ba'alsy's TAR campaign. The lack of good sleep is already catching up to him here and it's not going to be getting better anytime soon.

Ah well. Next time: News!

[ifjgh]

The first character of '78 is my favorite Italian Nerd, Attilio Moretti.

Here's some basic info! <3

Goes By: Attilio Nicknames: Tilly, AM, 4-Eyes DOB: Feb.14th, 1956 Age: 22 (until Valentine's, then he's 23 for the rest of the story) Gender: Male (He/Him) Sexuality: Bi/Pan Ethnicity: Jewish, Italian Occupation: Student (Business Major), Volunteers at the Library, Tutoring, Possible side-job, Possible Waiter at Family Restaurant Socioeconomic Status: Fairly rich family, everyone jokes that it's because of Mafia connections, but his family just runs a genuinely good restaurant Place of Birth: Sicily, Italy Family: Has a younger sister and brother, Mother (Jewish) and Father (Italian), big extended family Height: 5'8“ (5'10” with shoes) Weight: 140 lbs. Disabilities: Extremely Near-Sighted, would be almost blind without his glasses Fashion Style: Soft/Preppy/Nerd, usually sweaters and a button down. Glasses needed (see previous point) Coordination (or lack thereof): Horrible coordination, even with glasses, can't catch a single thing thrown at him to save his life even if it's a pen, always fumbles Personality Type/Trait: Logistician - Practical and Fact-Minded, Very Reliable. Bit of a Know-It-All, and cocky about it. Introvert/Extrovert: Introverted, but can open up if dragged somewhere with someone he trusted and not left alone. Intelligence: Above Average, except when it comes to social situations, smartest out of all of the Main 8 Self-Esteem: Slightly Below Average, doesn't hate himself, but he doesn't think he's good enough for the MC beyond friendship, aka he thinks MC could do better. He does however see himself as an intellectual superior amongst the guys though, and will brag about that. Hobbies: Reading, Studying, Helping Keo with basic Tech Tinkering, Cooking, Collects Rare Book Printings Skills/Talents: Cooking, High Intellect, Good Problem Solver/Mediator Loves: Reading and Learning about other cultures, Helping Others, Being Right, Relaxing Alone, Finding Rare Book Printings for his Collection Phobias/Fears: Being Wrong, Someone loosing Trust in him, Being Alone Forever, Unwanted, Unloved, Large Groups of Water Angered By: Bullying (Syd, in general), Ignorance Pet Peeves: Untidiness, People not Listening to Him Obsessed With: Getting good grades, Being Right, Cleanliness (I'm starting to think he has some type of OCD, very “everything has it's place” type of deal), Learning as Much as he Can about Everything he Can Bad habits: Bragging about how Smart he is, loyal even too a fault, saying ”I told you so!!!“ while not actually helping with fixing the problem, Ignoring people if he thinks they're a waste of time Desires: Life-Long Companionship, Success, to have a Family one day, Intimacy, Experience Flaws: A bit of an Ego with his intelligence, doesn't always think about other's feelings if it means he'll be right, Clutz, Quiet, a bit of a Coward (ex: won't stand up for himself if Syd goes too far), has an outward-directed desire to please others but at the risk of losing his own identity Secrets: The crush he's had on his Best-Friend (MC) since they were kids, he'd practically die if they knew, let alone if they reciprocated those feelings. Anyone finding the ”Adult“ books in his collection. While his direct family doesn't have ties to the Mafia, doesn't mean his extended family doesn't. Has a pretty intense scar he got back in High School thanks to Manzo on his left hip. Regrets: Despite the previous point, he wishes everyday that he could tell MC about his feelings, and that he wishes he told them sooner. Meeting Syd. Not being able to say no to doing BeeDee's homework, because of his more surface level crush for her and need to be liked Accomplishments: Got in on a scholarship, had the best grades in his former High School. Won a local cook-off, and still has the tiny trophy in his room. The rare printings of Kafka's works and "La Divina Commedia" that he has in his collection. Languages Known: Fluent in Italian and English, and is slowly picking up some Vietnamese and 'Ōlelo Hawai'i (from hanging out with Keo) and some Japanese (from being roommates with Manzo)

(Things are subject to change the more I get things fine tuned, I've also kept some things secret for the time being. - Crow <3)

Bonus! Basic Profile Sheet, for funsies! X

[herebedragonsbooks]

Storyteller of the month: October, Alice Oseman

Every month from now on I will be publishing a post talking about a storyteller (a writer, director, musician… mostly all kind of artists) who I admire and/or whose works I deeply enjoy. This is a mere way of spreading some online positivity, give some content recommendations and show my love for the people that bring to live the worlds I adore to get lost in. For the first post of this kind, I will be talking about Alice Oseman. Hope you like it 🫶🏼

Alice Oseman is a British writer, illustrator, and screenwriter who is known for their graphic novels Heartstopper and their standalone novels Solitaire, Radio Silence, Loveless, and I was born for this, among others. Their books are an incredible accurate portrait of adolescence at the same time they talk about deep themes like bullying and mental health problems. And of course, we can’t forget that they played an important role in how the LGTBQ+ community has won more representation in YA literature and TV in recent years.

 I thought that starting with them would be a good option, since I have just finished watching Heartstopper first season and I recently read Solitaire and Radio Silence. Yeah, I am in my Osemanverse era, and I am going to make it everyone’s else problem 😅 So, without further ado, here is why I love their work so much.

I was introduced to this fandom in a completely unexpected way, through finding a cute picture drawing of Charlie and Nick hugging each other with the words “I want a relationship like theirs” edited above it on Pinterest. I didn’t think much about it, I didn’t even know anything about the books nor the series back then. I just smiled, said to myself that the art style was really cute, and keep scrolling through the app. After that, many Heartstopper related drawings appeared on my dashboard, and I finally decided to give it a try and read it online. Now, I can say without exaggerating that Oseman’s stories are some of the most heartwarming I have ever seen.

Finding myself enjoying this type of content was really strange for me at first, why for? Because until a year I whole heartily believed that I hated romance books (except classic literature ones) just because I felt they were nothing like how imagined being in love would be like for me (Sugarcoat relationships between plain main characters? Thanks but no 😓). That was my first mistake, Heartstopper is not your average romance novel. Yeah, ofc it talks about love but not only romantic love! Loving yourself (with your quirks and little imperfections) your family, your friends… They are also important topics in the Osemanverse, that I really needed to read and learn about.

Alice's books taught me that everyone deserves to be accepted and cared about. That even when anxious thoughts creep inside my mind, there will always be someone to listen and help me go through it. That I could learn to love myself if I tried. That sooner or later I will be end up finding my people. It also made me more aware of the LGTBQ+ community around me, and it was incredibly helpful to tear down some stereotypes that media or other people have made me believe about queer people.

For some personal reasons I related in some aspects to three characters since the begining, Charlie, Tori and Aled. It may sound weird, but seeing them overcoming their problems and finally being able to grow up as the wonderful people they were meant to be was so touching for me. I am really thankful to the author for telling their stories, because no one could have talked about these topics and have reached as many readers as they did. Reading these books made me realize that I was not alone and that I could do it too. So thank you from the bottom of my heart Alice Oseman, really

To finish with, I will say that I recommend their books to anyone who wants to have some new comfort characters on their list or enjoy this fluff, hurt/comfort type of literature. Give it a try, you won’t regret it!

Thanks for reading, until next month! 👋

[sabineelectricheart]

White Rose, Preserved Forever

Summary: Sebastian might have conquered death, but his wife has not, and will not undertake the same method. Alas, if there is one way, there can be another.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Let us pretend that horcruxes really solve the problem of death, since they seem to operate under that logic.

“What will you do after I die?” She whispers, a lifeless doll in his lap.

It is a fair question to be asked. If Rosalie has one certainty in her life, and she probably only has the one, it is that she is going to die before Sebastian. Probably at his hand, too, but even if he learns some self-control, the fact he is going to bury her and not the opposite is beyond any consideration.

His embrace is neither warm nor comforting. In his arms, she finds nothing but hard edges and cold stone, for rarely is the embrace of someone like him is soft or welcomed. Especially that of one that has gone down the path so far as he has done.

A dark wizard. Nay, a Dark Lord.

At her random question, his hold tightens around her even further. She does not have to turn her head to know he is frowning. He always is, when he gets silent like this.

“Why do you ask this?” He eventually says.

Rosalie smiled sadly, almost wistful for a time that has gone by. She knows that she has never known him as an innocent man, but she misses her illusion that he could be redeemed. His path may be reversed, or so she hears from the books she read, but she does not find it likely to sincerely regret and repent from the acts he has done.

“I am but a human, Sebastian.” She says it with all the poison deserving of a name that she wishes she could dissolve into nothingness, like rain into sea. “I do not have a horcrux like you, nor I intend to make one. Since I have to murder someone with killing intent to split my soul, you should not be able to make one in my stead, either. Sooner or later, like all those who are mortal, I will return to dust.”

Sebastian exhales at that, the soft breath of him wisping over the nape of her neck. She trembles a little, and he rests his head on her shoulder. His weight is solid, too solid, like stone.

“What?” He rumbles, radiating vibration through her body. “Do you think I should have a contingency plan? Do you think I should cure death on a more… Clean manner just for you, my love?”

“I do not presume to know a superior’s thoughts, milord.” She demurs, voice barely audible in the too-loud silence of his abode.

All the tales of being spirited away could not compare to the real thing, of that romantic elopement of magical lovers for a life of freedom far away. Only, she was not spirited away. She was led away by her own folly, thinking that she could control, that she could influence this man, until he, like a rattlesnake, had her surrounded, and then bit.

She would say that Ominis had the right idea, to fight Sebastian at every turn, to warn him until he was blue in the face, to refuse knowledge, but Ominis is now dead, and Sebastian has a Horcrux. She might be physically alive, but is in no different position, after all.

Ominis is dead, murdered by his best friend so many years ago, and Rosalie has to live to bear with the consequences of her mistakes. If Sebastian has his way, that is going to be a long, long time.

It was through that laceration of his soul, this murder, that the horcrux could be made. He argued at the time that there was no other killing he was willing to do that would hurt him further. Such horrifying act, the pain it caused him, made it ideal for the intention he had for the piece that splits off, placing it on a beautiful necklace, his mother’s heirloom, kept by Anne before her passing, that now permanently adorns her chest.

Through death, he becomes immortal.

“Would you wish, then, for me to return you back to your family?” The man ponders.

She allows herself to have hope, because that is the only thing she has left. The expectation of an after-death release.

The woman closes her eyes. “And if I say yes?”

He does not answer for a moment. One moment of silence, too brief for her liking, and he lifts his head from her shoulder.

“‘What will you do after I die?’ I find that there is no need to entertain this line of thought.” He muses.

“So, you have no answers?” She asks, almost in mockery, too light for him to become annoyed, but too clearly for it to go unnoticed.

He laughs, a small earthquake echoing at her back. “All things that are mortal fade, but what of mortal turned immortal? Does a white rose preserved in amber also wilt? There are more than one way to revive a corpse, and you know that I am proficient in quite a few.”

At that suggestion, Rosalie shakes. Chills pass down her back. What does he know that she does not? Too many things. Too many powers. Can he truly turn her immortal? She will never be free of him then. The thought leaves she struggling for air.

“You… You cannot! It is not natural, it is not possible.” She wailed.

The silver of her necklace glares in the sunlight, pulsating in energy and will to be reunited with the rest of its matter, as he caresses her waist. Right above her ribcage. Delicate bones that could shatter with just a touch, if he wished.

“It is not a matter of can or cannot, my dear.” He says softly. “It is a matter of dare or dare not.”

His lips press to the line of her throat. Her breath quickens, but Sebastian does not care about her comfort and desires. He never does. On her skin, he lays a soft kiss. A promise.

“A matter of dare or dare not, and you will find that there are few things I do not dare.”

*_*_*_*_*

Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist

[solarsavoy]

Sorry if this is a lot but 🏅👮😈👨‍👧‍👧✨

It's never too much! I'm happy to answer all the asks!!

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

I haven't been too happy with my fics lately tbh, however, I was really proud of finishing Karmagisa week back in July. I was really worried I wouldn't, considering my recent streak of updating irregularly. (Guess I'm just like every other fic write now. 😅 I just miss being able to keep up with posting regularly, because then I got regular comments which are like my lifeblood.) But yeah, so, Karmagisa week.

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

I still don't think any of my other fics will have anything on Students of Despair. However, if I do it right, Pandora's might be worse in that respect. The reason is the same for both: I'm going to be googling a lot of dead body stuff and possibly adding in methods of killing. Yeah, that's probably gonna get me arrested. 😅 So if I do, somebody please point out this post to the police so they can see that this was in fact the intended purpose and I wasn't googling that stuff because I wanted to do anything.

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

Strangely no? I did initially wonder if my readers would hate that I don't feel the need to make every ending happy, but I actually think that makes readers more interested, not less. (Looking at you, tuuli. XD)

There is one thing though. I love writing whatever ship the story may call for for the sake of the story. I won't change it just because some people don't like a certain ship. This makes me sad because I'm not intentionally trying to ever hurt someone for writing about a ship that I love and/or appreciate (because strangely not all ships I include are ships I personally ship, like NagiKae, but I do appreciate them) but as a writer, I feel it's my obligation to follow the story. I don't always know where my ideas come from, but it sometimes feels like if I'm not following the story, I'm disrespecting the thing that gave me the idea in the first place. Maybe that's weird, but I also attribute my inspiration to write at all to the same thing that gives me ideas. If I try to write a specific idea just because I want it, it's very hard to write without the backing of my muse. (It's hard to write at all lately, but that's a separate issue.) Anyway, that's less of speculation and more of a fact, but I do wonder if it hits more readers than I'm aware of. I know not every person is going to like every ship, but I still feel bad.

👨‍👧‍👧 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic? 

Oh, all the time.

In fact, there's a round of questions I ask literally every new person at one of my jobs. 1. How old do I look? (because they often guess I'm around 20-25 when they're actually a decade off and it makes me feel young XD) 2. You like books and reading or anime and manga? And then their answer to 2 will direct how the next part goes, which is either "I wrote a book and it's an isekai!" where I then blabber about my book for 30 minutes, or "oh, which anime? Have you seen Assassination Classroom? Great, cause I write fanfiction for that!" and then I proceed to blabber about that for 30 minutes. I do this because otherwise I never bring it up and there've been a couple people that were disappointed they didn't know I wrote/drew sooner, so I've just decided on this introduction of "yes, I draw, I write, I'm awesome, please check out my stuff" and then I proceed to never bring it up again because I haven't practiced my social interactions beyond that first one. (Did I mention I'm socially awkward despite being very chatty? Well, at least I got it out. I'm very bad at marketing otherwise.)

It always touches me when they ask how my art/stories are going later and it makes me not regret my word vomiting introduction as much, so I keep doing it. It helps because otherwise I feel way too into myself, introducing myself like that, like I'm a salesperson selling my stuff, which I am essentially doing. I know this, but no one will know about my stuff if I don't talk about it so, this is how I do.

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

Deep, intuitive (as in with the characters), and smooth (usually because of flow and/or how smoothly I tend to do AUs or mix ideas in crossovers).

Thank you for the ask! Love you Hailey!!

[lantur]

I've had a couple of wonderful evenings lately.

I got to play pickleball with @broomchickabroom and @northshoretragedyeagle (and Derek!) last night, and then we sat together and ate fresh-baked peach cobbler and banana bread. It was a perfect evening with great people. I went to bed feeling so much better than I had all week.

I got to see my beloved nieces tonight and I got SO much time with my favorite little niece, playing sticker book together and reading to her.

These are the bright spots I'm holding onto and that give me hope for the future. I had something else happen earlier this week and earlier today that was more difficult.

I had a good mental health day for once on Wednesday, probably because I talked to two friends that day. My mom emailed me later that night and truly threw me for a loop. For context - she has been heavily pressuring my husband and I to have a child ASAP ever since we got married in September 2020. We've been firm on the fact that we're not ready yet and are taking our time to be emotionally ready for this lifetime commitment of being parents.

The email she sent was... difficult. She resumed the pressure to have a kid ASAP, in light of my dad's diagnosis with aggressive stage four cancer. It went beyond her previous entreaties for us to have a kid ASAP.

"the greatest regret of your dad's life is that he won't be able to see a grandchild"

"just the thought that you are expecting a child will nourish his spirit and give him the hope to go on"

"you have nothing to lose and so much to gain by having a child sooner - a once in a lifetime chance to give your father a priceless gift as he approaches the end of his life."

"this might be the one and most significant gesture you make as his only child"

"sometimes in life, we set aside our plans and life routines and conveniences because life asks something special and something greater of us, and we respond and rise to the occasion."

I let my mom know that Derek and I have in fact been thinking about it since my dad's diagnosis, but we have a lot of concerns about pregnancy during such an emotionally fraught time. Namely, our main concern is the very real possibility that my dad might pass away while I am pregnant, before the baby is born, and what it will do to me to be grieving the loss of my dad WHILE undergoing the tremendous emotional, physical, and mental challenge of pregnancy. (While also having type 2 bipolar disorder and alternating between episodes of depression and hypomania.)

My mom flipped out. She said "the time is now" to have a kid, and attacked Derek and I for not caring about my dad's wants. She said that I don't care about my dad, only Derek - who would be the father of my child, the person who raises this child with me, forever. She said that a dying man's wishes don't factor into our decision at all. She said that "for ONCE, just once," in my life, that I think about my father, "because he doesn't have the luxury of time while you figure out if this choice is right to you. The big question for you is, does he matter enough to want to do this for him? The answer is obvious that he does not. He lives on borrowed time, but you are unwilling to step outside your own time frame."

My mom has had massive outbursts of temper periodically for the past 10+ years. She's said a lot, a lot, a LOT, of very hurtful things to me since my teens and throughout my twenties. Things that I've been dealing with in therapy for almost 3 years. I've dealt with it. But this was too much. I became very distraught after this entire interaction on Wednesday night. The emotional manipulation and accusation that I don't care about my dad was too much, especially as I've already been struggling tremendously this summer since my dad was diagnosed.

I spoke to friends about this situation yesterday and spent time with friends. I didn't speak to my mother, though I called my dad twice a day to talk to him, as usual. She sent me a text this morning accusing me of "putting her in the doghouse."

I had a phone call with her and told her how inappropriate, offensive, and hurtful Wednesday night was, and how it is just a long (decade+ long) pattern of behavior - of "normal behavior" and getting along for a few weeks or a couple of months, only to culminate in an explosive display of temper. I told her the truth about how her temper has affected me and told her that I cannot continue to deal with this. I told her the same thing 6.5 years ago, after I moved out - that the outbursts of anger would alienate me, and to please try to moderate that, and she said she wasn't willing to change that behavior, and she would express herself in the way she pleased.

The truth is, my mom terrifies me because of her anger, because of these unpredictable displays of anger, and that's why I've tried to distance myself from her over the past 6.5 years. She's seen me try to distance myself, and she's been so angry about that. Every time I've tried to reconcile with her and give her more chances, she blindsides me again with another incident.

Long story short (lmao, this was not a "long story short," it's been a long story) she doubled down and refused to apologize, or to make any changes to her behavior. We are now estranged. I will stay in touch with my dad and will not be in touch with her.

It's difficult, it's painful, but nobody in my life has ever hurt me more than my mom has. Repeatedly, over and over again, since I was in my teens. I'm not in a point in my life where I can tolerate emotional abuse any longer. I'm already going through enough pain with the prospect of losing my dad.

I couldn't see my therapist yesterday or today because she's on vacation for Labor Day. I'm not going to lie, it's been hard, but I've made a lot of difficult decisions and life changes since my dad was diagnosed. I'm looking forward to therapy on Tuesday.

[yoomiii123]

The Runaways - Part 3: To rescue a friend

Read this on Fanfiction.net , AO3 , or right here on Tumblr!

Summary: Peter's PoV of the night he went back for Jasper.

Word Count: 2'625

Trigger Warnings: none

Rating: PG

“Look, there it is!”

A thousand crystals sparkled on Charlotte’s hand as she lifted it and pointed towards something in the distance. My eyes didn’t follow; my gaze captured by the bite mark between her thumb and index finger. We were so close now. With a bit of luck, I could be back before sunrise tomorrow, maybe even sooner. All I had to do, was—

The loud thump of Charlotte’s ornithology book being closed startled me from my thoughts. “You’re not listening at all, are you?”

“I’m sorry. Please, tell me about the log-bird you spotted.” I placed my arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. The dry grass below us rustled as her body dragged over to mine.  

“Loggerhead shrike,” she corrected and placed her head on my chest. “But you’re not really interested in it.”

I smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead. “You’re interested, that’s good enough for me.”

“Usually, I would buy that, but you’ve been distracted for a while now. I told you we didn’t have to go this far south if it bothers you.”

It’s not Mexico that bothers me. It’s who’s down there.

I sighed and sat up. Charlotte slipped from my embrace and rolled over to her back, looking up at me. She was at ease, happier than I had ever dared to hope. The last four years had been everything she ever wanted, and she told me so regularly.

I had worried about running at first; about not being able to give her a home or something to hold on to, except for the few things we carried on our backs. But by the time we figured out that the world wasn’t at war, that this immortal existence wasn’t about constantly fighting for livestock, we had gotten used to it. She loved travelling, running up and down the continent, discovering something new every day. And I was more than happy to follow. To see something more of the world than just my small hometown in Arizona and the greater Monterrey area, where I had spent the first years of my second life.

But unlike Charlotte, who felt free like the birds—her newest obsession—, there was still something holding me back. I had done my best to confine that part of me to the darkest corners of my mind for the past five years, but with every happy moment we shared, it inched closer to the light. I hadn’t been able to lock it up again once we reached Texas. It was at the forefront of my consciousness now, ever present. This regret, this guilt over leaving my brother.

“I have to go back for him.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Charlotte responded immediately; her body tensed, and all serenity left her face. She was on her feet in an instant, arms crossed and eyes furious. “Absolutely not.”

I sighed. This conversation hadn’t been fun the first three times we had it and I doubted it would turn out differently this time around. But I couldn’t push it off any longer. “I owe it to him, Char. He saved your life. And mine, twice!”

“We owe him nothing. He didn’t save us; he just decided not to kill us. That’s the decent thing to do, Peter. Most of the vampires we met over the last years did the exact same thing, yet I don’t recall us owing them anything.”

“It’s different down there,” I tried again, though I already suspected it would be useless. She never saw a real battle and I was eternally thankful for that. But it also made justifying Jasper’s actions to her very difficult.

“That’s no excuse. You were down there too and yet you treated us with some respect. He didn’t care at all.”

That’s where you’re wrong, I thought. Jasper did care, she just didn’t see it. She wasn’t there for the fights. For the purges. She didn’t see the way his eyes mourned, the way he kept vigil over the burned bodies of his soldiers. But I did, and I was convinced he wouldn’t stay if he knew that Maria’s tales of war had been a lie.

“You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?” Charlotte spat. Her jaw was clenched tightly now, her expression unreadable. But her eyes revealed just how betrayed she felt.

And despite how much I cared for her, she was right. Nothing she could say was going to change my mind. I had lost brothers before; I had to try and save this one at least. “I can’t do this anymore if I don’t, Char. I can’t be happy knowing I didn’t even try to help him. The regret is eating me alive.”

“And what about me? Losing you is going to eat me alive.”

I had no words. I wasn’t going to lie to her and promise I would come back. I knew that there was a very real chance I wouldn’t. Even if I made it down to Monterrey without incidents, I could run into Maria first. Or one of her newborns. There even was a small risk that Jasper had a change of heart; that he would kill me the moment he laid eyes on me. I had spent countless days agonising over these possibilities, and I had come to terms with them. If there was the slightest chance that I could save my brother from another century of pointless war, I had to take it.

“So, you’re choosing him over me after all.” A tearless sob escaped Charlotte’s throat.

It pained me to see her like that. I wanted to hold and comfort her, but she recoiled, wrapping her own arms around her tiny body as if she was trying to keep herself together. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

I ran a hand over my face and turned my eyes to the sky, silently hoping to find an answer written somewhere in the clouds. But the blush-pink endlessness just stared back at me through the leafy canopy, wordless. There was no other way, nothing I could say to ease her pain. My actions were going to hurt her, and I was ready to accept that.

“At least let me come with you,” Charlotte whispered after a minute of agonizing silence. The sorrow in her voice went straight through my chest and clutched my dead heart, crushing it. She had come closer; was almost within reach of my arms now.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip. “No, I cannot risk that.”

“So, you can go and throw your life away to save a monster, and I cannot even try to protect the man I love?” Bitterness laced her words like a serpent’s sting.

“It’s safer this way. I won’t be able to focus on myself if you’re down there with me,” I replied, reaching for her hand again. She pulled it away.

“And if you don’t come back?”

I swallowed my grief down, but my voice still didn’t muster the encouragement I had hoped for. “You’ll figure it out. You’re strong. And smart. And we’ll always have the last five years.”

She was in my arms within the blink of an eye, wrapping hers around my waist so tightly I was glad she’d lost her newborn strength years ago. “You better come back. I don’t want to figure it out without you,” she muttered.

I rested my chin on the top of her head and memorized how it felt to hold her. Me either.

xxxx

The sun had long gone when I left, my initial plans to be back before sunrise squashed by the sudden reality of losing my mate and leaving her to fend for herself. But despite all of the pain, my resolve didn’t waiver. I had to do this. Not just for Jasper, but also for us. I couldn’t spend an eternity living with regret. That wasn’t fair to myself or Charlotte.

I pushed my legs to the brink, only stopping once to replenish my strength before crossing the border. Avoiding big towns and keeping to the woods and mountains as far as possible, I worked my way towards Monterrey, praying to the only god I knew that Jasper would still be there. If he wasn’t, there was a good chance that this endeavour would end before I even had a chance to talk to him.

My worry spiked when I came across the scents of at least six vampires just a few minutes outside Valladares. There was no trace of Jasper and Maria with them, so either they had replaced me or there was another army this close to Monterrey. Either way, it didn’t bode well for me. I slowed down, paying more attention to my surroundings, keeping my eyes out for scouts. But there were none. I passed the Cerro Tía Chena to the west without hindrance and crossed through the valley towards the city just as the first light appeared on the horizon.

There were more tracks now, and they quickly mixed with the blood of humans starting their day. I made it halfway around the city before the sunlight became too worrisome and I had to hide in the poorly protected basement of a nearby farmhouse.

I crawled through the narrow window again at sundown, hungry and nervous. My scent had been lingering in the area for an entire day now. It was very likely that someone had followed it. The eerie feeling of eyes on my back didn’t disappear, despite me not being able to make out any red eyes in the small crowds of people going after their evening activities. Eventually, my thirst drove me to risk it. After running for five hours and hiding for almost triple of that, I was famished. And that one old woman walking her dog just smelled too good.

After carrying the corpse out to the Parque Nacional and burying her alongside her pet without incident, I was positive that my fears had been for naught. If someone was watching me, they would have attacked before I hunted on their territory. The thought was just as comforting as it was troubling. The chances that Maria and Jasper had moved on to God knew where were rising by the minute.

I checked the barn next, but it was abandoned too. There was only one more place I could go to now; a small cavern system to the south of the city. This was where I woke up after being turned. It was my last shot.

I had just crossed back around the city and disappeared in the trees of the forest, when I suddenly heard another set of inhumanly fast feet behind me. Someone had picked up my trail. After all these hours, my luck had run out.

I pushed on, hoping to find a small clearing or plateau ahead. A place where it would be easier to spot the attackers coming for me. But the other vampire was fast, he was closing in. At least his were the only steps I could perceive; my pursuer was alone. I jumped over a fallen log and hid behind the next best boulder I could find. There was no way I would outrun him—or her.

Just as I stopped, the forest suddenly turned silent. The other set of steps had disappeared as well, and there was nothing audible now, except for the distant buzzing of the city. Did I get away?

No, of course not. I realised my mistake a split-second too late, just as a white flash descended from the tree above and landed on the forest floor just a few feet away. My body instinctively braced itself for the attack as my eyes scanned the opponent for any weaknesses when I suddenly recognised him. His posture seemed off and his skin was even more mangled than when I last saw him, but there was no mistake. The man crouching in front of me like a wounded tiger was my former brother in arms. “Jasper?”

“So, it is you. I didn’t believe it at first when the scout told me a ‘tall gringo’ was walking around the city as if he owned the place.” The small smile that danced on his lips as he straightened up was enough for me to lower my guard fully. Still, there was a heavy air around him, trying to drag me down. I doubted that it was a conscious effort, he didn’t look like he was going to attack anymore. Still, it was odd for him to his control slack like that.

“Where’s the girl?” he asked before I could figure out the right way to greet him.

I smiled; he remembered her without contempt in his voice. This was a good sign. “Charlotte’s fine. She’s waiting for me up north. It was easier to do this without her.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You should go back to her, Peter. It isn’t a good time to be around here.”

“I will, after I’ve told you what I’ve come to say.”

Jasper’s eyes darted around, as if he was scanning the area for danger. Wasn’t this their territory anymore?

“You better be quick about it then. Maria has people watching me. It won’t be long before they find us, and you’ll best be on your way by then.”

I raised an eyebrow. Maria was watching him? Things certainly had changed. But he was right, there was time for questions later. After, I convinced him to come with me. Hopefully.

“She lied to us,” I started. “The world is not all territorial fights and newborn armies. Charlotte and I have been living peacefully for almost five years now. We haven’t seen a fight since we left here.”

Jasper’s eyes stopped racing and focused on me. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not, I swear. There are covens up north too, but they coexist amicably. No bad blood and certainly no armies. Most of us live as nomads though, it’s easier to hunt when on the move. And it’s also quite fun to discover what the world has to offer. I saw snow for the first time a few years ago, it was quite the experience.”

“Coexist amicably?” he echoed, running a hand over his face in disbelief.

I nodded. “Yes. We’ve had a lot of interesting conversations. Some even invited us to hunt with them. It’s not at all like it is down here.”

“And the Volturi?”

“We haven’t heard a word of them either.” I carefully reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. Jasper flinched at first, but he didn’t brush it off. “Look, I know this place—Maria—is your home. But it doesn’t have to be. You could come with me, travel with us. Get away from this pointless war. We—”

“Okay.”

Disbelief slipped from my tongue before I could stop it. “What?!”

“We should leave immediately, before Maria learns of this,” Jasper said. “Unless you changed your mind?”

“No, I— Of course, let’s go,” I stuttered, dumbfounded by how easy it had been to convince him.

My mind was still trying to wrap itself around what had happened as we ran down the mountain. Jasper led us in a big circle around the city before we headed north. And even though my legs were still tired from the sprint yesterday, running had never felt easier. The chains of regret that were holding me back for the last five years had been cut, I had my brother at my side again, and nothing would be able to stop us from leaving this wretched place behind. 

All I had to hope for now was that Charlotte would eventually forgive me for this.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

(TW) Cancer (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

A Cough You Can’t Shake (ao3) - Emptylester (timelordangel)

Summary: The tours are finished and wrapped up into two films and a book, but Dan’s re-branding might be something unexpected. As the most eventful year of their lives comes to a close, Dan finds himself with an unexpected diagnosis and a best friend he just can’t fathom leaving

Far Too Young To Die (ao3) - rainbowchristy

Summary: Phil didn’t think much of Dan’s sudden obsession with playing Panic! songs on the piano. He didn’t think much of Dan’s long sleeves or his lack of uploading. Well, that was until he found Dan’s journal and became concerned for his safety.

Happy Mistakes (ao3) - mollieblack

Summary: Dan’s mother is terminally ill and all she wants is for her son to finally find someone to settle down with, so when there’s a misunderstanding and she thinks he and Phil are dating, Phil panics and goes along with it, if only to keep her happy in her last days. Neither of them planned on her getting better.

In a Hospital Bed (ao3) - happilysurviving

Summary (tw): Dan is in his last moments and Phil comes to visit him, not ready at all for what unfolds.

Kitchen Tiles (ao3) - ahlohomora

Summary: He regrets not realizing sooner, he regrets not listening to his heart more closely, he regrets not picking up on a single one of the countless little but painstakingly clear signs, regrets not being honest with himself until now. But it’s of no use, because it is what it is, and all they have now is a few weeks. After all the months and years, now all they have is weeks.

Outside of the window (ao3) - Im_Innocent_I_Swear

Summary: (tw) Dan has had a lot of headaches lately, and when he suddenly wakes up without being able to see, he and his boyfriend Phil rush to the hospital. Turns out that Dan has a terminal disease and he will only live for a couple of weeks. He has to stay in the hospital, and because Phil isn’t family, he is only allowed to come an hour a day. And every day Dan asks him to describe what’s outside of the window. And Phil does. But in the meantime, when Phil is home alone, he feels worse and worse. He was going to lose the love of his life.

round and around and around and around we go (ao3) - theweirdesthingss

Summary: “I just didn’t tell them that abroad was heaven.”

The Swing At The End Of The World (fanfiction.net) - uhnonniemiss

Summary: AU where humans are given a watch at birth that shows you how much time you have left before you die. The year is 2025, and Phil’s watch has ticked down to his final day, so Dan helps him carry out his last wish.

when it feels like nothing else matter, will you put your arms around me? (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: “Sorry.” Phil says.

His father wraps his arms around him, and the embrace feels warm. It’s an embrace that he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s like when he was a kid and something scary happened and his father just held him like nothing could ever hurt him because his father was there protecting him.

“It’s okay.” His father quietly whispers into his hairline. “It’s okay.”

He didn’t know how to tell him all the things that he wanted to say, like: I don’t know how to stop my thoughts from spiraling out of control. What if the medicine makes it worse? What do we do if things don’t get better? How do I live in a world that doesn’t have my dad in it?

“Let’s just enjoy right now.” His father says, and he doesn’t let go of him.

You Can’t Tackle Your Demons on Your Own (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: Dan is obsessed with a series of books by the amazing author, Phil Lester. He spends his time at the coffee shop he works at reading the books over and over again in the closet. When he meets a new co-worker who is also named Phil, they go on a date. Little does Dan know, he’s sharing a cup of coffee with the author he’s considered his best friend for years. As he gets to know Phil, he finds that Phil is housing a destructive secret. Why did Phil apply to work at The Brew Bean in the first place and what happens when Phil starts breaking away, piece by piece? Can Dan save his beloved author or is Phil going to fall slowly and hopelessly into loneliness and despair? All the while, Dan is falling in love.