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colleendoran · 8 months

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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

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harrysfolklore · 9 months

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new year's wish - blurb

a/n: happy happy new year loves ! wrote this little blurb about one of my favorite tropes and i hope you like it, let me know your thoughts <3

gif by @harryisart

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2011

It was a tradition between your friend group at this point.

For the last two years, you've been celebrating New Year's Eve at Jonny's place, all of you getting together to celebrate and reminisce about your memories together.

You loved your friends to pieces, your group wasn't exactly huge, but you've made a bond so special over the years that no one could easily break.

However, you surely had a different and deeper connection with your best friend, Harry.

You met Harry the first day of middle school, and ever since your first interaction you've been inseparable. As time passed and you got closer to Harry, you began noticing some changes in how you felt. His laughter made you feel happier, his support meant a lot more, and being around him felt different—like something special. Sometimes, you found yourself admiring him in a way that went beyond just being friends. You started to realize that your feelings for Harry were growing into something deeper than friendship, something you hadn't felt before. It was like a secret you kept in your heart, waiting for the right time to figure out what it meant and terrified that making a move would ruin your friendship.

"Hey! I was looking for you." Harry's voice interrupted your train of thought, making you move from the fireplace you've been standing for the last few minutes.

"I got cold outside, wanted to catch some warmth." you said, looking at your curly haired best friend.

"The countdown is about to begin," he let you know, "Let's go with the rest."

You followed him to where your friends were hanging out, sitting next to him.

"What's on your mind? You're really quiet."

You took a moment before replying, "Just thinking about how everything's going to be different next year, we're barely going to see you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, a frown appearing on his face.

"You know, the band is taking off and you're going to be so busy," a confused look took over his face, "Don't get me wrong, I'm so proud of you, we all are. I'm just going to miss all of us here together, at Jonny's place."

"Come on, none of that," he said as he noticed a pout making its way to your face, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you to his side, "I'm always going to be around, you won't get rid of me that easily," you laughed at this, "Next year we're all going to be right here together and nothing's going to change."

And as the clock counted down the seconds till midnight you wished for one thing: I wish he doesn't forget about me

2013

"Hey, stranger."

"Hello to you too, miss"

Harry's voice echoed through the speakers of your car, making you laugh as you drove the streets of Holmes Chapel, heading to your favorite wine shop.

"Are you coming to Jonny's place for New Years or are you going to spend it with your famous friends." You joked, and even though you couldn't see him you knew he was rolling his eyes.

"Of course I am, that's every year," you smiled at his words, "Besides, I need to see you so I can tell you all about this girl I'm seeing," and just like that your smile quickly faded, and you were glad he couldn't see you because you could swear your face dropped along with your heart, "I'm super thrilled, we hit it off right away and I honestly can't wait for you to meet her."

You weren't sure how many seconds passed in silence from you,but soon enough you heard Harry's voice asking if you were still on the line.

"Yeah, just got distracted by the traffic," you lied, "I can't wait to hear all about it, I'm glad you're happy."

New Year's was days away but you already had your wish in mind: I wish to be the girl for him someday

2015

There was just one thing in your mind as you sat on the bar stool with a drink in your hand: this year sucked.

That year, Harry had a super busy time with lots of success. He kept in touch, but it wasn't like before, your talks became shorter, and you didn't hang out much. You understood he was busy, but it felt different, you missed him and the fact he didn't show up for New Year's hit hard

On top of that, the headline "Spotted: Kendall Jenner and Harry Styles Getting Handsy on a Yacht" was the first thing you read in the morning, and it hurt.

You weren't even celebrating at Jonny's place, which made the night even more depressing for you, your friends insisted on trying something different and celebrate at a rooftop bar instead.

Maybe you held on to nostalgia too much, but you missed the old days when everything was simpler and you had Harry next to you.

"Hey! Countdown is about to begin, what are you doing on your own?" Ellis, one of your closest friends, called for you making you hop off the stool and join them.

"Everyone has their wishes for the new year?" Jonny asked the group, and you knew exactly what was the only thing you were going to wish for: I wish things would to go back to how they were

2019

"Look who finally showed up!"

Jonny's voice made everyone turn their heads towards the door, where a cuddly looking Harry stood with a bottle of wine.

"Hello to you too, mate." Harry said, making his way toward his best friend and giving him a hug.

After letting go of Jonny, he locked eyes with you and wasted no time to pull you close and wrap you around his arms.

"I missed you," he mumbled against the crown of you head, where he placed a small kiss, "I'm sorry I haven't texted, you know how chaotic album releases are."

You smiled with a tingle of sadness, Harry had just released his second album 'Fine Line', one that he described as having sex and feeling sad and that mainly talked about his most recent breakup.

A breakup that you helped him get through even though your own heart was being obliquely broken by him once again. But at the end at the day, he was still your best friend and there was nothing in this world you wouldn't do for him.

"It's okay, you're here now." You let go of him and squeezed his arm one final time before joining the rest of your friends in cheerful conversation.

Like every year, the night flew by and before you knew it you were a few minutes away from midnight, so you took that as a cue to look for Harry who had been absent from the room due to his phone ringing.

"H? Are you done with your phone call?" you asked, getting close to him, "Is everything okay?"

"It was Camille," he said, turning to look at you and showing you a small smile, one that gave away his contentment about it, "She said she wants to talk in person, to work things out."

"Oh that's, that's good I guess." You tried your best to give him a fake smile.

"It's more than good, this is great!" his smile widened as he moved from his place and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to give you to where your friends were calling for both of you, "Never thought this year would end like this."

His words echoed in your head as you stood with your friends who counted down the seconds until midnight, and a single wish came to your mind: I wish loving him didn't hurt so much

2023

The familiar setting at Jonny's place made you feel comfortable and at ease, no matter how busy your lives had been that year, your friends would always show up to celebrate the new year together and that was something you deeply cherished

This year had been extra special, with every aspect of your life blossoming, but there was a certain thing that made 2023 a great year: your relationship with Harry.

You two had become even closer that you were before, you had always been best friends who shared everything but things felt different now.

Maybe it was the way you exchanged looks that lasted a bit too long, the accidental touches that sent shivers down your spine, or the things you both didn't say but felt.

You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Harry finally felt something more too. But your intrusive thoughts, the fear of ruining your friendship and the amount of times you've been heartbroken over the years kept pushing these thoughts away every time they popped up.

"Praying to the God's above that Harry finally kisses you at midnight?" Ellis' voice almost made you jump on your spot on the couch, she plopped next to you with a beer on her hand and a cocky smile.

"Ellis! What are you on about!" you complained, making her roll her eyes.

"Come on! We all know that's what you wish for every birthday, and we've noticed that he can’t keep his hands off you tonight, walking in hand in hand and all."

It was your turn to roll your eyes, but you could feel your stomach twist at her words.

After a few more drinks and not so subtle teasing from your friends about you and Harry, you slipped away for a bit, needing a break from the noise. Soon enough Harry spotted you by the window, looking up at the stars.

"Hey," Harry said standing next to you, you smiled as you felt his arm wrap around your waist, "The countdown is about to begin."

"Let's go join them then." You moved from the window and tried to head towards the living room, but Harry's hand grabbing yours made you stop on your tracks.

"Actually," he avoided your eyes, focusing on the scenery outside for a moment, "I've been wanting to talk to you about something, I don't even know if this is the ideal time but-"

"Hey," you cut him off, finding his eyes and giving him a tender smile, "It's okay, you know you can tell me anything."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, about this year and everything that changed, especially between us," he began, his voice soft yet determined, and your face full of confusion and anticipation.

"These past years have been a whirlwind," Harry continued, "But in all the chaos and changes, there's been one constant, You. And I've been blind to not recognize what that means."

Your breath caught in your throat and you could swear you felt your palms drench in sweat.

"I've wasted too much time not acknowledging it, not admitting it to myself and hurting you in the process," Harry spoke again, his voice laced with a tingle of sadness. "I cherish our friendship deeply, but I've come to understand that what I feel for you goes beyond just friendship. It's something deeper, something I've been too oblivious to see clearly for my own selfish reasons."

His words hung in the air, you could hardly believe what you were hearing, the words you'd secretly longed for so many years, spoken by the person who meant the world to you.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you, I've loved you for longer than I realized, and I don't want another year passing without telling you."

Tears welled up in your eyes and without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. It felt like the weight of the years of unspoken emotions was finally lifted, and in that moment, everything felt right.

"I love you too," you whispered, your voice filled with a all kinds of emotions. "I've always loved you, Harry."

From afar, you could hear the cheers and celebrations of a New Year, the clock had reached midnight and your friends already made their wishes.

And as you finally kissed the man you loved after he confessed that he loved you too, there was nothing else you'd rather wish for.

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taylor-titmouse · 9 months

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2023 Book Retrospective

it's pretty much the end of the year, and i've never done this before, but i wanted to take a look at what i managed to do in 2023 and share some of my thoughts on it! i published five novellas this year (though i didn't actually write one of them) plus the public release of the demo and first huge update to You're A Mage on Monsterfuck Mountain. that's a lot!

so let's dig into all that. this will contain some spoilers for the books, because it's hard to talk about them without talking about what's in 'em, so maybe check out my itchio first and grab anything you missed! (but also.... perhaps wait until this weekend before you buy anything. shh.)

You're A Mage on Monsterfuck Mountain, released in March

TECHNICALLY, the demo was finished and available on patreon around the end of last year, and didn't become public until I'd finished the garden update, which i did finish this year. and what a massive fuckin THING that was. 60k words! 50 illustrations!! the biggest thing i ever put out and technically finished, and the beginning of a move to being less afraid of writing "weird" sex. there was so much bee sex in it. arguably too much bee sex in it. which i'd left entirely til last to do which meant i was writing nothing but bee sex for weeks.

this was the first time i let myself really indulge in writing dubcon for the bad endings, and it was a lot of fun. very often it was more interesting than the deliberately horny routes, because it meant writing a way to be put in the situation, and also making it hot every time. i'm very much of the philosophy with dubcon that even if the situation wasn't Ideal for the character, they're still going to get good sex out of it. i believe i put it at another point as, i'm here to write the pleasure of helplessness, not suffering. to that point, the dubcon endings for the armor, the dryad, and the queen bee were my favorite bits from this.

the fact i never got a second update out this year is a big regret. i finished a bunch of the routes for it, but ultimately i wanted to have things i could release! shortly after publishing the demo and update, i officially put my webcomic on hiatus so i could focus more on my graphic novel, and also spend more time on my writing. having that extra time is probably the only reason i was able to write as much as i did this year, and i didn't want to spend it toiling away on a serial project i couldn't release for months at a time.

which leads us to the release of my first novella of the year...

House of the Risen King, released in April

now this is when i truly said "i'm just going to write what i think is hot and interesting and not worry about how it's perceived!!" and went whole hog on exhibitionism and monster dubcon cult horror. house was mostly inspired by the ending of Hereditary, and was originally going to be more poltergiesty and played more straight, with vee being harangued by a bunch of horny ghost-demons and nothing more sinister than that. but i've had cult shit percolating at the back of my brain forever, and i wanted to play with ideas i'd first developed in shadow in the shelves with rituals and shadows, so here we are! the scene of hettie fingering vee in the bathtub while vee's god-fucked out of her mind is my favorite.

fun fact, the original seed for this book was actually going to feature max and mortis, my photographer/model couple (that link goes to cohost because i wasn't posting here yet when i was drawing them the most). the idea was they'd go do an urban exploration shoot and mortis would start getting fucked by a ghost while max filmed it, but the more time i spent with those characters the less i wanted to involve the supernatural. which meant i never wrote their book, and had to make a new character to do the idea. and then it wasn't even that idea anymore.

that's writing, folks

Roger Crenshaw: The Dogs at Duskfall, released in June

... which makes it ironic that the next book is one i didn't even write! r/l monroe @mortalityplays has been my friend for years, and was my editor for a long time (until he got a REAL JOB and didn't have TIME to edit anymore. sobs, cries, kicks a stone and walks into the distance). he's also always been an incredible writer, and for my birthday this year i asked him to write me something. i asked with the expectation of a little short story about our old tabletop RP characters, or a fanfic scene for one of my books he'd edited.

and then he wrote me 20,000+ words digging into the character of roger crenshaw and who he is that perfectly summed him up and tied all his stories together, such that i don't think i ever need to write another one. he did it, he wrote the perfect ending to roger. AND he did it using my favorite of his ocs from our tabletop campaign, AND there's some really hot and sweet smut in it. AND HE DID IT IN LIKE TWO WEEKS.

i loved it so much that i asked if i could illustrate and publish it as an official novella, and to my delight he agreed, and it was so so nice to collaborate with him on it. even if it meant beating our heads against the wall for 30 minutes about the placement of certain images on the page.

this was a great tragedy. i'd drawn the vagina one first, but an image earlier in the book had to be moved, which affected the placement of everything else. the vagina image had been perfectly at the start of a new page, and then suddenly it wasn't. so i had to do the penis one instead for better placement. tragic!!!

it's hard to pick a favorite scene in something written entirely, lovingly for you. how can i choose between the characters' pitch perfect semantic arguments on the nature of folk lore, the millenium princess-ass memory hopping, or the really really hot smut? i can't. i love it all. thank you r/l for being so good at what you do and writing this for me, i'll treasure it always.

The Dragon Double Feature, released in May

apparently this came out in may, and not july. i don't know why i've been convinced this came out in july. oh well i can't be bothered to insert it on top of the roger one.

anyway. THIS book. this book exists because i believe at the time i was a bit blocked, and wanted to just write SOMETHING. for a long time i've had the idea of a dragon wrecking a princess' wedding and fucking her in front of the congregation just sitting in my back pocket. it was the 'i know i could just slam this out if i wanted. i don't have to care about it it's just sex and then it's done' fallback idea, and i finally did it!

and then it was too short. i don't like the idea of publishing anything less than 10k words for full price, so i was like. okay. alright. i've always thought fucking an eastern dragon would be hot and have this other idea i was going to use for roger (back when i had an idea for every monster possible for roger), let's just write that. kenta is only kenta because i took a poll for what body type i should pair with a dragon (he was 'big boy', i think the other options were twink, older woman, and average woman). and i was also Really into the movie inu-oh at the time, which is probably obvious with kenta being a blind musician, lol.

the musician and the waterfall was tougher to write because i didn't have a clear vision of how it should end or even how they should fuck (the mechanics of fucking long noodle dragon have challenged me for years) but i'm ultimately pleased with it. it would have been a long time since i wrote something sincerely romantic, and it was nice to go back to it. i'm a HUGE romantic at heart.

both stories are pretty much one extended scene so it's hard to pick a favorite moment from them, but i will say i'm very pleased with how i approached writing the musician and the waterfall, specifically in the challenge i set myself to never use visual description kenta couldn't reasonably guess. writing from the POV of a blind man made me focus in on different senses and ways to describe them.

this book is also, as of right now, my best seller. which is great! i love that for me.

The Dragon Double Feature 2, released in July

okay i guess THIS one released in july.

anyway i got stricken with the curse with this one. a lot of people wanted me to write a sequel, but i wasn't going to. and every time i say i'm not going to do something, i end up doing it. it's so annoying. this one only happened because i wanted to write a SHORT! a SHORT extra for patreon describing kenta and wakatake's first time having sex as humans.

and then i wrote too much preamble describing their time on the beach. and then i got emotionally invested in unpacking their actual relationship, and also added a third character with mrs arakawa, and had to bring it all together into a story that was coherent and had something to say about the way they loved and ALSO ended in a THREESOME because WHATS THE POINT OF INTRODUCING A THIRD CHARACTER if they aren't all going to FUCK TOGETHER!!

it was tough. but i'm really, really happy with it in the end, and think it's one of the best things i've ever written. my favorite scene is definitely them playing with the hermit crab on the beach. metaphors babie.

the gundrid/eveline story is fine too. lmao. i NEVER PLANNED TO WRITE ANOTHER WITH THEM!! i only did it because the idea of publishing a sequel to a story from a double feature without writing a sequel to the other half of the feature was insane. and now eveline and gundrid are some of my most beloved characters, to the point of writing another book featuring them...

The Tenebrous Tower, released November

yet another book i'm pretty sure i was like 'i don't need to write this. this character doesn't work for a story on his own, what am i ever gonna do with him' and then i dumped a bunch of fantasy characters into a jar with him and suddenly i had a story. I ONLY MADE ROMICK BECAUSE I WANTED TO DRAW FUCKED UP WIZARD PORN AND MY ONLY OTHER OPTION WAS A GRANDPA!!!

anyway i started writing it as something to do on vacation, and it was just gonna be a bunch of dungeon bdsm vignettes until i hit on a throughline and suddenly i had a story and an emotional arc and damn i did it again. i did it again. i have a book.

i was expecting this one not to do very well because it had multiple prerequisites, but because i am a master of my craft i made sure to write it so you didn't need to read those. and then people read it without reading those. so it worked out anyway and now it's done just about as well as dragons 2. the people love romick, but they especially love the idea of him being destroyed. maybe someday. maybe someday. (except on patreon, where it's already happened)

the final vignette with the doll is, of course my favorite. i think it was a lot of people's favorites.

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

and that's everything i published this year! honorable mention to my novel starbuster, which i'd written most of last year, then spent all of october this year revising with the intent of finishing it, only to run out of steam by the time i was done revising it. so it's exactly where i left it last year. just better written. god it would be nice to finish that fuckin thing next year.

my goals for 2024 are, of course: release more books!! i have a big project i've been working on illustrating for the past month that i'd like to release in january, and i've also been working on a spin-off one-shot with mrs arakawa and an oni. i think this coming year i want to Try to blast through some of the one-off ideas i developed this year so they'll quit banging cowbells in my brain. like the sleeping garden. it makes me insane i never actually wrote the sleeping garden.

anyway if you actually made it to the end of this, thank you!! if you've bought all of these books, double thank you!!! i've been able to pay my rent and expenses just with my adult work this year, and it's been amazing and fun and super fulfilling. thank you for supporting me in 2023, here's to a horny 2024!!

#tt talks writing #taylor titmouse

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monstersandmaw · 4 months

Text

Hello lovely friends and supporters! Thank you for your patience while I finish off this absolute behemoth of a story for you! You voted in the poll for a deep sea merman and a gn reader, so that is what I wrote for you.

All 13k words of it!

It's a new corner of my fantasy realms, with new characters I'm excited to introduce to you!

Content: gender neutral human reader becomes a part of a bandit gang made up of non-humans and struggles a little to find their place. On a new venture for the gang, the human becomes essential to the plan to smuggle a product from the Absolute Deep all the way to the capital, and in the process, they forge an unlikely relationship with a certain Deepfolk merman. Featuring some minor violence and threat to life, a near drowning, and mention of biting and very mild blood during nsfw, messy hand jobs and some oral, as well as some self-worth and self-deprecating humor on the human's part.

Wordcount: 13,324

Extract:

The storm had mostly blown itself into quiescence overnight, though the air was still thick with salt and the wind carried gusts of seawater thinned with errant raindrops that spattered onto your cheeks and dribbled down your collar until you shivered with almost every step.

There wasn’t another soul out on the main Cliff Road that stretched the length of the Saraghin Coast and then dipped inland to become other roads that headed towards the capital. After close to three miles of walking in the pre-dawn gloom, you'd begun to think this ‘Arnak’ wasn’t going to show. You’d also completely forgotten about Nil trailing you until you saw the faintest flicker of a shape out of the corner of your eye and your hand went to the blade snugged in against your hip on reflex.

A lanky figure emerged from behind a gnarled rowan tree on your right and stood regarding you, motionless, for three pounding heartbeats before sliding back behind it, and you exhaled shakily.

“Bloody hell,” you hissed, not sure if they could hear you or not, but you suspected they weren’t human and probably had really good hearing. “You scared the shit out of me, Nil.”

Something like shards of glass scraping together sounded on the wind, and you shuddered again.

Another half a mile or so down the road had you certain the selkie was going to be a no-show, but just when you’d begun to entertain the idea of turning around and heading for a warming drink, and maybe a tumble in the sheets with that minotaur barkeep to warm you up even more, you caught sight of a figure sitting hunched on a rock ahead of you, with the spotted sealskin of a leopard seal selkie shimmering in the grey light of the waxing dawn.

“Took your fuckin’ time,” the huge man growled as he got to his feet at your approach. “Avis said ‘before dawn’.”

“You didn’t give her a point to meet me. I’ve been on the road since well before dawn, friend. Shall we go?” you said with a firm but not unfriendly smile.

He just rolled his dark eyes and turned away without a word.

The man was massive, and built like the boulder he’d been sitting on, with colossal shoulders and a soft middle that belied the strength underneath. His iron grey hair was tied back in a low bun, and sections of it drifted across his eyes in the wind. He could have been anywhere from his late twenties to his early sixties for all you knew.

Your companion said nothing whatsoever to you until you reached a tiny, switchback path in the cliff a couple of miles later, where he abruptly stopped, gestured with one salt-tanned hand, and said, “Good luck, human. If you survive this and I ever see you again, I might buy you a drink at the Three Eyed Rat myself,” and walked off in the direction of Saltwater Bite without another word.

For a long moment, you stared after him with your heart thudding in your throat, but with a deep breath for courage, and the knowledge that there was probably a shadow-less creature within earshot to help out if you got into trouble, you turned your attention to the cove below.

The slate grey sea still churned with the remnants of the storm, waves shouldering their way up the beach and raking their foaming wake down the gritty shingle shore in a relentless rhythm, but there was no sign of anyone down there. The whole thing felt horribly like a setup, but you tried to tell yourself that Avis and her crew liked you by now, and you had your uses too. You filled a niche in the group that no one else could. She wouldn’t give you up to the authorities or to a spy or even a rival crew so easily.

You hoped.

The switchback path took a while to navigate safely, and by the time you had made it to the bottom, the sun had just started to rise above the horizon, way out to sea. It cast a weak, silvered-bronze look to the water and to the wet, dark rocks, and made each of the pebbles beneath your boots glint like lost diamonds from a shipwreck. You picked one up and turned the ordinary stone over in your hand before lobbing it as far as you could out into the water.

The flat, bottom half of an empty oyster shell caught the light and you stooped to pick that up next, fitting it into the curve of your index finger and flicking your wrist so that it skimmed the waves. Well, it skipped twice, and then chopped into the waves and flipped over, disappearing out of sight beneath the water.

“Are you Avis’ human?”

The grinding, scraping voice came from the rocks somewhere to your left and you all but screeched in surprise. Your whole body jolted and you whipped your head around to stare at the rocks, but there was no one there.

“I’m not anyone’s human,” you fired back, defensive mostly out of surprise rather than any real outrage. “Where are you?”

A coarse, slightly wheezy laugh was your only reply for a moment, then, making a small bow-wave ahead of them in the water, a hand appeared around the rock.

The skin was grey and speckled, but it looked almost chitinous, and it reminded you of the kind of fancy gauntlets the armoured knights wore at jousting tourneys. As more of it appeared, you followed the line of that muscular arm, up its body to a shoulder that was equally armoured, with spiked protrusions like a fantastical pauldron, until the figure pulled itself around the boulder in the water and regarded you from pale, almost blind-looking eyes.

The creature before you was like nothing you’d ever seen. If a sea dragon had mated with a shark, its offspring might have come close to this, but there was something of the monstrous merrow in their clearly bipedal body, and behind them in the water, like the spined tail of a sahaugin, floated a thick tail.

Your jaw must have been hanging open because the creature laughed that shattered glass laugh again and you blinked yourself back to the moment.

They had no real lips, only a slightly pinkish mouth that showed a double row of teeth, again like a shark’s, and they cocked their wedge-shaped head curiously at you. “Shark got your tongue, little human?” the creature snickered. “You weren’t expecting one of the Deepfolk in person then, eh?”

“I…” you faltered. “Forgive me,” you croaked, forcing yourself to speak. “It’s not often I find myself completely lost for words. And you’re right. I thought perhaps another selkie, or one of the shallower-dwelling merfolk would be here to deliver Avis’ shipment.”

“I’ve brought it personally for you,” the Deepfolk grinned, showing off all those teeth. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was to have a predator leer at you like that from the water, but it was what it was, and you hid it as best you could. “Are you going to come in and get it?”

Read all 13k words of it over on Patreon right now!

#monthly story #mermay #deep sea merman #deep sea merfolk #deep sea mermaid #monster romance #monster romance patreon #monster romance stories #exophilia #human x merman #human x merfolk #merfolk

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hauntedwitch04 · 11 months

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Lucifer I

Nyx Acheron x reader

Words: about 5.0k words

Warnings: blood, death, murder, sad things in general, shitty biological family

Author's note: This is a request by a follower on Wattpad, that I personally loved and I wrote this during the night. It's not complited, the second part will be out soon, but it was getting to long. Hope you like it loves, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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"Say one more word and I swear I'll cut out your tongue." You say looking at the young prince of the night, who reciprocates by looking at you amused.

"Uncle Az, tell your hound dog to stay put." Nyx replies, as he rises from the chair in the meeting room we are in. For a moment you forget about him and end up looking around, and you wonder if little te knew this would happen to her in the future, if she would believe it. When Azriel found you, hiding in a cave not far from the Illyrian camp from which you had escaped, he was shocked at how long you had lasted alone in the woods. It had been weeks now since you had managed to escape what was left of my family, yet you still had not managed to wash away completely the blood of your sisters that had remained under your nails.

After your parents had died, my father in battle and my mother in childbirth, the chief of our tribe had decided to assign you to the only relatives left for you and your sisters namely your uncles, evil and mean people who had only money in mind and how to accumulate more and more of it, and because of this however small you were, you had to start working right away. Also living with you was our mother's mother, a bigoted and unintelligent woman bound by the stupid traditions of the barbaric people of which I am a part, who from early on you knew would present a threat to your wings. Not a day went by when she did not complain that you had not yet bled or find ways to make it happen, but you in response had studied every book and document you could about it and made sure to find every remedy you could to delay the arrival of what would spell the end of your last freedom. And the same you did with your sisters when they began to grow up, honoring the memory of your parents by asking them for help every night.

After spending years and years being a slave, on your twentieth birthday you woke up with red-stained blankets and immediately a new fear took its place in your body. You could already hear voices coming toward the room you shared with your sisters, and without a second thought you had jumped up waking the other two girls and telling them to take what you had prepared to run away. Within minutes you were already running through the woods, looking for a safe place to live for a while until you figured out how to do it. Over time you had also learned to hunt, and so you were not afraid to live in the woods; what you were afraid of was your family.

A little over an hour had passed when you heard voices coming from behind.

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you. You know we have to, it's time for you to become a real woman." Yelled your uncle in an obnoxious, sarcastic voice, and you only increased your pace, which soon turned again into a hopeless race dragging your sisters toward what you hoped would be salvation.

"Do you really think those wings make you somebody! You are nothing if a little slut trying to escape from a future that is already written! Hurry up and I promise I won't rip your wings off, just keep playing hide-and-seek and I'll take all the time I can to do what I want with you!" Yells your uncle again, before laughing out loud. "Do you think we haven't found your stupid plant books, to delay your bleeding, do you think we're that stupid? That alone could be enough of a death sentence for you, do you really want to make your situation worse!?" He continued, and you felt a cold chill run down your spine. For a moment you thought about turning yourself in, then the image of all those girls you had seen suffer or even die for what they had done to their wings came into your mind, and so you began to run even harder, until you found yourself in front of a cave. You had found it a while ago, trying to catch something in the woods, and it had seemed like a good hiding place. You told your sisters to go inside, while you went for a second to retrieve some weapons you had hidden in a hollow log two minutes away from there, intimating to them to keep quiet if they did not want to be discovered. Yet all was in vain.

One minute. Sixty seconds. Twenty blinks. One moment.

It only took a moment to kill your sisters. Your uncle found them, and because they tried to escape he killed them on the spot, stabbing them in the stomach.

You arrived at the moment when you saw the youngest among the three of you fall, the one who being the eldest daughter you had the pleasure of holding first, while the middle one was already on the ground lifeless. You saw in her eyes the life slip away, like sand running through your fingers.

"So you won't run away like your useless sister." Said your uncle, looking at her handiwork before turning away. "Where is he right now, anyway? He abandoned you, he doesn't even have the courage to face me, yet he has the courage to leave you here to die." He continued.

"Turn around asshole, and face your fate." Whispers your sister, dying, amid blood spit on the ground and moans of pain. "I hope his blade is as sharp as your tongue." She continues, before telling you with her lips that she loved you, and then letting the life that animated her flow out of her.

Your uncle turned and for a moment his face was crossed with pure and simple fear, coming the anger that animated your face. A few simple sword movements, and in a few seconds he was in front of you on his knees, praying to your goodness, which in his regard had left you years ago. Blood gushed from his lips like lava from a volcano as you watched life fade away behind his tar-black pupils.

"I hope you will suffer as much as you made us suffer, and that Mother will have a special punishment for you. You killed the only family I had left, and for that I will take from you what you took from me: life." You said, looking down into his eyes. He spat in your face in response.

"Do you think you are so much better than me? You too will take the life of another human being, even your hands will be stained with blood, you and I are not much different." He said, before spitting more blood at my feet. "Besides, do you really think they will not notice that I am not going back to the village? Do you really think they won't come looking for me and find you here with all these dead people? Do you think you'll get away with it? O deluded little bitch, they will kill you, and then there we will be in the same cage before Lucifer."

"See you in hell then." You whispered before finally cutting his neck and letting his blood create a pool at your feet.

For hours you felt like an automaton as you carried your uncle's body out of the cave and buried it not far from there. Once you had stowed away all the earth, you turned to where your sisters still lay and for the first time truly felt their death strike you with an axe blow to the chest, whereas before you were too busy still brooding over anger and revenge. In a few steps you found yourself on the ground, your hands grasping their bloody clothes as you clutched them to your chest, crying hot and bitter tears. You screamed in every language you knew against every deity you remembered, as you begged anyone to take you in their place and let them live their lives. You spent the whole night crying and screaming, so much so that by morning you had no voice left. Once the sun came up you realized what you looked like. Your arms were completely bloody, especially your hands, where blood had even gone under your fingernails. Long minutes passed before you conceived the fact that you had to bury your sisters as well. This time, however, was different. You found a beautiful clearing full of lavender flowers and laughed at the irony. You had always loved lavender very much, and your sisters always teased you about it, and now the place where they would find peace would be just that. You slowly dug two pits next to each other in the shade of a willow tree, and gently placed their bodies, wrapped in blankets, as tears continued to stream down your face. You looked one last time at their bodies, so small and helpless at that moment, before covering them with the earth. Once finished you lay there on top of them, waiting for the dead to come for you too, feeling guilty for their death and for killing a man, seeing the blood still staining your hands. You screamed, cried again as you had done the night before, then you heard a rustling in the plants, and like a vision your sisters appeared to you holding hands with your mother, surrounded by shadows. By now it had become night, but you did not even realize it too engrossed in crying.

Immediately you were frightened by the scene and jumped to your feet, then you calmed down and realized that you had not gone crazy, but there were really them in front of you. You ran toward them, and tried to hug each of them three times, failing, and falling all three times into the void. Immediately the tears came back to you.

"I thought I was dead. I thought I had atoned for my sins, and instead I'm still here. I don't deserve to live, please do something help me." You asked, kneeling in front of them, looking down, and at that moment you felt like a gust of wind settling on your shoulder, so you looked up and saw that your mother had placed her hand on his shoulder and was looking at you fondly.

"My child, do not think that our death is your fault. You, on the contrary, did everything you could do. You must keep fighting, you cannot let yourself go like this. You must live for us, too." She said, but you shook your head, not believing you could.

"I am not so strong mom, I allowed them to hurt them. I-I don't think I can go on alone anymore. I am not strong enough." You whisper, as you go back to slump on the ground.

"Don't even think that. You have come this far, you must live for us too. We will never abandon you, we will become your janitors." She said making a gesture to indicate the shadows that surrounded her and your sisters. As if they understood the topic of conversation they moved toward you, twisting like a snake along your arms, until they reached your ear and whispered something to you. You were not even surprised to understand them, no matter how surreal this situation was. You watched intently as those night-colored pythons came to life around you, until you looked up again and saw that your mother was now retreating with your sisters, back to where they had come from.

"Where are you going!? Don't leave me!" You screamed, getting up and running toward them, but the shadows held you, like worried hands holding someone dear.

"You can't follow us where we go love, now we have to go back where we came from, we have already been away too much according to the rules. Take care dear and remember we love you. Enjoy every second of your life, don't remember the past, create a new future." Those were your mother's last words to you as your sisters waved goodbye, also with tears in their eyes.

At that moment I became a shadowsinger.

And so you returned to being alone, in the middle of the night, surrounded by shreds of darkness that moved with a life of their own.

"My lady must go and wash the blood off her clothes, and she will attract wild animals." The shadows say in your ear, as they urge you to get up. You resist a little at first, to be guided by them, who like an invisible wet nurse took care of you, for the first few days where you still had to get used to the situation. A week later you were fully back to yourself, and nothing could stop you. You kept moving from one place to another so they would not find you until one morning you heard a rustling among the plants, but your shadows that time told you something different that struck you.

"Honey, this time the one chasing us is someone like you." They said, as you were setting a new trap to catch some small game.

"Like us, you mean another shadowsinger?" You asked confused, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to know.

"That's right honey." They replied, before going forward.

A few minutes passed before a man, an Illyrian, emerged from behind the plants, but you soon realized that you did not know him.

"Hello." He said first, smiling slightly as he put his hands forward to show you that he had no hidden weapons to hurt you. "I would just like to talk to you."

You looked at him wary, then you saw a shadow emerge from his back, exactly like those adorning your shoulders, and immediately you felt understood. You saw his shadows go to his ears, as if to report something to him, and immediately his eyes widened as his face changed, looking at you with sorry eyes and a sorrowful smile on his lips.

"You are also like me. "You affirmed as you approached, he without warning embraced you, holding your slender, exhausted body in his mighty arms.

"I'm sorry." He said in a choked voice as he gently stroked your back. "Who has passed away?" He asked, trying to understand how you had managed to get what for him was a curse.

"My mother and sisters. They failed to protect them. My mother I failed to save all those years ago, while the others I left alone, and my uncle killed them." You whispered, as you let go in his arms in a desperate cry.

"Then you really are the girl from the village they are looking for." He said as he looked into your eyes, and you saw tears forming in his, as if he also remembered at this moment a past and distant pain, still alive in him though. "They sent me to find you, saying that a crazy dangerous murderer, but I think they actually are." He continues laughing, before asking another question. "Where is your uncle?"

"I killed him." You said in a hard, impassive voice and then looked at him coldly, or at least tried to, but the fear you were feeling clearly shone through your eyes. "I will accept whatever punishment you want to give me, but please don't take me back there. I ran away because they wanted to clip my wings, and now I'm afraid of what they would have in store for me, and I suspect it's worse than death." You asked, as more tears ran down your face.

He shook his head, before taking off his jacket and laying it on your shoulders.

"My dear, you will come with me, I will never take you back to that shitty place." He said softly as he stroked your face, and for the first time you felt the scars adorning his palms, and you were shocked by the contrast between his soft voice and his rough skin.

"I am Azriel, the High Lord's chief spy, and you will come with me to Velaris, where I will teach you everything I know about the shadows we share. After all, I've always wanted a little sister, and I'm sure Cassian will be impressed with your skills as well." He said, as he pointed you to a place in the forest devoid of trees. "I have to warn you though, we're a little crazy as a family." He continued, but you froze.

"Wait, I have to do something first." You said before running one last time to that lavender field, to which you had gone every day to see your sisters.

"It's not goodbye, it's goodbye. I will be back soon, as soon as I can. I love you all. I will live for you." You confessed at their graves, amid sobs before returning to Azriel.

He looked at you with compassion and together you took off into the air, and only when you arrived in Velaris did you realize that your life had really changed, and that a new adventure was beginning.

"Hey baby all right?" You eventually hear Azriel's voice, concerned, as he leans over the table to take your hands. You are the only one with whom he shows physical affection, trusting only you, and of course Gwyn, whom you regard as a mother.

Over time your relationship has proven to be more like that between a father and a daughter than between a brother and a sister. He has from the very beginning taken care of you, and you of him at times when he needed it, you have always supported each other, and a bond flows between you that is stronger than just a blood bond. You look into his eyes and see his doubt gripping him, but it still does not invade your mind, leaving you space. Nyx also seems to have quieted down. You and he have never gotten along too well, ever since you first met. You have been part of the Inner circle for ten years now, but the two of you only met five years ago, since he was studying on the mainland before that.

He, from the beginning saw you as a rival, and even being a couple of years younger, felt that his place as a protected and beloved prince of the court was being undermined by you.

He never understood the real reason why his uncle took you with them, and that was also because you had never shared your story with anyone outside of Az and his mate, not wanting others to see you as weak.

"Yeah all right, I was thinking about how not to kill that asshole during the mission." You say, trying to sound convincing, and apparently succeeding because everyone is giggling, outside of Az and Nyx who don't look very convinced.

"Oh come on Lucifer, we both know that the better of the two is me." He tries to comment, but you can still read the uncertainty in his eyes not believing your words.

"In your dreams Acheron." You answer, trying to let the nickname pass.

The next day, at dawn you find yourself on a mission in the woods near where you had grown up. A feeling of fear covers your heart and mind ever since you set foot here. Like a flooding river, memories of your childhood wash over you. Rhysand didn't know this place was steeped in trauma for you, or he wouldn't have assigned it to you, but if you had told him, you would have proven yourself unequal to your role as his court's deputy spy chief, unable to separate work and private life.

"We need to go to an Illyrian camp nearby, apparently there has been some insubordination." Nyx tells you, not remembering that you were also at the meeting her father had to describe the mission. "Hey, you look pale, are you okay?" He asks worriedly, turning to look at you.

"Since when do you worry about me Acheron? Aren't you getting soft?" You say, stepping past him as with confident steps of someone who has been down that road a billion times before, you move like a snake, with elegance and fluidity, through the trees of the forest. Out of the corner of your eye you see the boy step into a trap, which has been there since you were a child, which an old hunter always puts in that hole.

"Be careful putting your foot there, there is a trap." You say atonically as you continue walking. He stops and looks carefully at where he was about to walk to see that indeed you were right.

"Well I'd say you're mellowing, too, honey. Is the cold-hearted witch thawing out?" He asks with amusement as you without stopping or turning around give him the middle finger.

"I love you too baby." He continues, in response to your gesture, and you shake your head in response as you can't suppress a silly little smile appearing on your face.

"How did you know there was a trap anyway, it was really very well hidden." Comments the prince of the night, as he takes great strides to catch up with you.

You pause for a second, thinking whether to tell him the truth or tell him to go to hell again. You don't know what is getting into you but this place makes your head spin, and you feel like a poor, lonely, helpless girl again. The shadows surround you like a shield since you arrived, as if they, too, sense the familiarity of that place. You look into his violet eyes, which in the little sunshine coming in through the tree foliage, take on a lavender-like hue, and again it feels as if a prick comes sharply into your stomach and knocks you to the ground.

You see in his expression concern and sincerity, and this sends your system into a tailspin, which, as if it were nothing, opens up a deep, private part of you to him.

"I grew up here, I know these woods well." You say not looking into his eyes, too caught up in your emotions that are running through you right now. The shadows close even tighter between you, almost creating a cocoon.

"I didn't know that." He replies.

"Nobody knows, nobody but Az and Gwyn." You counter.

"He found you here then." The boy affirms, while in the shadows he tries to look around.

"Yes, not far from here." And you almost can't hold between your lips <<and near here I buried my sisters, a little farther away instead is the cave where they died at the hands of my uncle, whom I killed and buried near there>>, but fortunately you manage to hold back.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you really knows what to say, until you decide to confess other things.

"Nyx, the village we are going to is the one I ran away from when I was 20 years old with my sisters. Everyone there hates me, but I don't even think they would recognize me, however, I wanted to tell you before you see doing something stupid and reckless for no reason. At least you know some context, it seemed right to tell you." You say as you resume walking, but he grabs one of your two wrists with his hand and stops you.

"How come you ran away?" He asks with a seriousness you think you've never seen in him before.

"They wanted to take away the only thing that made me free: my wings." You answer with equal seriousness as I see his jaw twitch in anger.

"Who wanted to do this to you? Your parents?" He asks as disgust is evident from his tone.

"No, it's a long story." You try to answer without giving too much information, but immediately you feel something, guilt, making its way inside you. "Maybe someday I will tell you, but this is neither the place nor the time to do so." You continue, before starting to move along the forest. Nyx does not counter and follows your steps silently, always, however, staying close to you and in silence, as if she has that at this moment, the slightest thing could destabilize you and that you need someone right now, who without your asking, should help you survive from drowning in your memories.

You arrive at the village shortly after, and for a moment you feel like you have traveled through time. Nothing has changed since you left, and that gives you the chills. Immediately people begin to look at you askance, and within seconds you find the village chief standing in front of you. He is still the same as when you were there, an elderly gentleman with poor eyesight and a big heart. He was the only one who supported your choice to keep your wings, but the council had overtaken him and there was nothing he could do about it, he had confessed to you once while your family was still waiting for you to bleed, but he was already deciding your future. He looks at you with squinted eyes, trying to focus on your figure.

"Hello, we are here about the small riot that happened here a few days ago. The High Lord sent us." Says Nyx casually, with a smile on his face. You had decided before you left not to say your identities right away, so as not to arouse hatred as soon as you arrived, but you obviously hadn't told Nyx about why, though now he knows.

"Oh certainly, this way guys." Says the elderly gentleman, smiling at us. "But you didn't have to go to all that trouble, it was just a bunch of stupid kids who decided to make some trouble. There was no need for the High Lord to send any of his people, but we really appreciate you coming." He continues, as we cross the main street of the village.

"High Lord Rhysand is keen to let it be known that he is always available to his subjects when needed." Nyx replies very diplomatically, as he has been taught. You stop and stare at him, as you walk along, and think that deep down all those girls falling at his feet are not wrong. He is one of the most handsome boys you have ever seen, if not the most handsome of them all, with those violet eyes and perpetually disheveled night-colored hair. He is smart, but at the same time reckless, funny and kind, in short the perfect boy everyone dreams of. Immediately you freeze, and blush when you realize what you're thinking. You hear the shadows laughing in your ear, hearing your thoughts, and you under your breath curse them. You look around and realize you've stopped in front of what used to be your little piece of heaven: the bookstore. It was a tiny, musty place, and full of dusty old shelves, and run by a sweet and loving little lady, whom you treated like children.

When you were little, you spent hours in there, so much so that eventually the lady hired you as an assistant, making sure that your aunt and uncle didn't force you to stop going to that place to go to work.

It was never very busy, but it had a small circle of trusted customers.

Now, however, it is a ruined place. The window glass is broken, and the now-worn sign has fallen down. The shelves have all fallen, one on top of the other like bodies of soldiers wounded in battle, piled on top of each other. A dusty mist fills the store, while on the ground one can still see marks left by flames, while nothing but ashes remain of the books.

Nyx seeing that you stopped, stops in turn, apologizing to the village chief, and coming to see if you were okay.

"Hey, are you okay Lucifer? If you want, you can wait in one spot, and I'd be back to you in five minutes, I swear I'd be quick and then we'd run right out of here and not look back. You don't have to do all this if you can't." The boy says sympathetically as he takes your hand in his. That gesture makes you turn toward him, and then look at the older gentleman who has also turned back, and he looks at you smiling.

"I felt like I knew that smile." He says, looking at you as he strokes your face with one hand. "It seems like a lifetime since you and your sisters left. I see that life has treated you well." He continues happily, and you feel a pang in your heart.

"Life apparently has only treated me well." You say while remaining vague, and immediately he seems to understand, and with a sweet gesture, typical of a grandfather toward his granddaughter, he kisses your forehead lovingly.

"I'm sorry little witch." He whispers, and you smile at the nickname, which he had given you when you were still playing at making potions out of mud in the camp.

Nyx meanwhile was looking at you more and more confused, but he does not ask you anything, realizing that this is not the time for his questions. The shadows move agitated, too caught up in all those emotions.

"What happened to the bookstore?" You ask worriedly. "Is the lady okay?"

"She passed away shortly after you left. Her family did not take care of the store and let vandals destroy it." Confessed the elderly gentleman, sorry.

You are about to respond, angry at the people who allowed part of your childhood to be set on fire, when you hear a voice from down the street that chills the blood in your veins, that of your aunt.

...to be continued...

TAGLIST

@winchestergirl222

• @nothingimportentreally

• @duda

• @itsmeseph

• @lys-neyr8

• @nyotamalfoy

• @anonimusy

• @marigold-morelli

• @luna-1-3-5

• @esposadomd

• @thotd-f1

• @humanpersonlasttimeichecked

@backups-backups

@daeneeryss

@hjgdhghoe

@theviewfromtheotherside

@e_dollly

#acotar x reader #imagine acotar #nyx acheron x reader #nyx archeron x reader #hauntedwitch04's writing

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undead-merman · 2 years

Text

This was a Patreon request from Usotsu: “I remembered you once wrote about Bullboy Kylar and a vet pc, may I request a continuation to that, if that's ok? Maybe with the pc having to keep him without much of a choice since Kylar isn't being productive anymore and he also has become violent towards everyone in his farm but it's just a little calmer with pc's presence? Bonus points if pc brings Kylar to Alex's farm and everything gets even worse, lmao. I don't mind if it's goes more towards SFW or NSFW. Thanks in advance.”

The original post

Bullboy Kaylar Moving to Alex’s farm with Vet GN-Reader SFW & NSFW

Taking him off Remy’s hands

It was during your last visit did you hear Remy tell you that they were looking to re-home Kylar. It was too much work and he wasn’t providing enough to stay on the farm. He was running a business, not a charity. Not to mention the little shit had caused a handful of injuries that had some farmhands in the hospital for goring.

You felt bad for the little guy. Constantly nursing some kind of injury, and the farmers were never gentle with him. Harsh and somewhat cruel, you couldn’t just let him leave. You talked with Alex, and they agreed. They were looking for another bull and even if he didn’t give milk he would be cared for at this farm and give the little guy the life he deserves.

There was a heavy tension between Remy and Alex and you knew that just moving Kylar wasn’t as simple as asking. You had to strike a deal. You had to do some things you weren’t proud of and you would have had to do worse if you weren’t their vet.

But that day game where Alex grabbed a trailer for him and when he ran into your arms and took him outside of the fence Kylar’s eyes when wide with wonder. His face just right now was worth the trouble you went through.

You had to sit with him in the trailer he kicked and panicked otherwise. He held onto you so hard, not understanding you were taking him to have a much better life. He was trembling against you, and you certainly noticed his cock poking against you even with how high stress this was. Kylar would be Kylar even when stressed. Your touch did help calm him down a bit.

You and Alex lead him to the pen for him, lined with extra soft bedding. Kylar was blown away by it and fell asleep almost instantly. Both you and Alex couldn’t help but smile at his sleeping face. It was heartwarming and Alex ruffled your hair and made a nice dinner for the both of you that night. A little bit of both of your favorites.

Adjusting To The Move

Kylar was shy and meek at first. Only really perking up when you were around and with you appearing every day his mood improved faster than you were expecting. His blood pressure was at an all-time low and he was gaining weight.

He did have that habit of humping you when you did medical checkups on him and they looked painful sometimes. All flushed and painfully hard with precum almost gushing from his slit.

The stones in his hooves gradually got less and he was careful with the bandages. He has gotten a little glow to him, looking so much healthier in this new environment.

When you finally introduced him to the fields he still seemed rather happy despite it being a smaller plot of land. Though he didn’t seem to get along with any of the others. A little bit of a loner, though you hoped that would change.

After a month or so he finally seemed ready to produce and as both you and Alex stood there attaching the milkers Kylar didn’t take his eyes off you. Mooing and trying to fuck the machine. Even with his smaller testicles and prior neglect, he spewed so much. Even Alex was impressed that this little guy could make so much. He compared to your finest and biggest girl.

The Quirks Of The Bull

He grew slightly more comfortable around the farm and while he was still a loner, he did always come up to the fence line and wait for you to come out before work. He leaned into the pets you offered and always waited for you to come home. Alex made a joke that he made a little ditch from pacing around the fence waiting for you.

Kylar did have attachment issues. He was overly possessive of you and would headbutt the other cattle when you did checkups on them or push them over when they were coming to get pet. Though you noticed Kylar always acted pathetic when you or Alex went to scold him.

Speaking of Alex, he never seemed to like them. Tolerating them was more the word for it. His face would drop when Alex came in and would huff when you and Alex chatted. If you weren’t separated by a face or gate by the time Alex left he’d knock you over and grab your hips to grind his bare cock into your ass. The precum drenches your pants and his cum coats you, even reaching the back of your neck.

If you did ever end up bottomless around him he’s on your like glue. Mouth right on your genitals and feverishly shoving his face as close to you as he can as he devours you desperately. Drinking every little drop of fluid you secrete. Or if he hadn’t seen you all day his cock was pressing right at your rim, Pushing in without prep. It would always hurt like hell and it was like he was trying to make up for it with gentle licks of his long tongue, though it never helped as he brutally ruined your hole and stuffed you so full of cum your stomach bloated and it gushed when he popped himself out.

Should you have ever let him do it willingly, he was gentle. Hands shaking as he held your hips as his cock slipped into you. Both of you are grateful for the lube you used beforehand. His fingers fumbling on your tummy and trying to find his cock inside you and every time he found it he pressed down and mooed so happily.

He was one to pass out right after cumming so if he ended up catching you bare you were able to squeeze by him without a fuss.

Alex did seem to like him even if he was a troublemaker. He made some profitable milk. Alex often talked about finding him a nice breeding partner. If only Alex knew.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #kylar the loner #bullboy kylar #tw: noncon #tw: abuse #tw: neglect

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icypantherwrites · 8 months

Text

It is finished.

Words I wasn't sure I was ever going to be able to write, but at 11:51 pm last night they became reality.

Bottled Ocean is finished.

I am really, really proud of myself for being able to come back to this story. I started writing it in all the way back in May 2020 so it has been almost four years from start to finish and it's been a really long, bumpy road. So much has happened over those four years and the story went from a vibrant, engaged audience when it first published to, if I'm lucky, one or two engaged readers and maybe five reading it total. It's been really hard to put forth the energy into writing such a monster of a story (it is officially over 250,000 words long) knowing that there's no one there really to read it and even now I'll be lucky to have one or two engaged readers for it.

But it is done. My legacy after writing over 400 fanfictions in the last 7 years is not an incomplete story. It's something I can look back on and be proud of that I wrote that and as anyone knows, 250,000 words is not a small undertaking.

I had promised myself that if I went back to writing this I would finish the story before it began publishing again on Patreon (which resumes today) and then life hit. I had Covid the last two weeks and felt really terrible and dizzy and unable to focus. I thought writing fight scenes was hard, bah, writing fight scenes while you're distracted by the word 'sword' because it says 's-word' and going off on a tangent of swear words you think pirates would say while still trying to write a fight scene is hard. I kept going.

I reached yesterday morning and realized that I still had at least four chapters to write and I wasn't sure how I was going to do it and even if my deadline was self-imposed I was going to fail it.

I didn't.

Outside of taking breaks to walk the dog (it reached 42 here in Chicagoland and for this time of the year that's practically tropical) and guzzling down over half of a 2-liter of Dr. Pepper and trying to drink water in there too, I did it. I sat down, wrote my ass off, and a little over 16,000 words of the most pinnacle parts of the story as it all comes together and concludes I did it. I am exhausted and I honestly didn't even recall most of the final chapter so I went back and read it this morning and not to toot my horn but damn I'm a good writer, and I am just so relieved and happy it is done.

I am done too. My writing journey comes to an end with this story (I'll still for sure be posting on Patreon for the rest of 2024 though with my insane backlog and of course Bottled Ocean and some works on AO3 too) and I'm hanging up my keyboard. It has been a long seven years full of the good and the bad, the bright spots and the dark, but I can look back at this chapter of my life and see that I wrote over 3.2 million words worth of stories to share and I feel...

I feel content. And relieved and honestly my wrists are aching from pressing against my laptop all night, but I am happy. Thank you to all who came on this writing journey with me, who have been with me since As Color Fades Away posted in 2017 or stumbled across my works this year. It has been a life-changing seven years of writing.

I'll still be around here posting updates and hopefully, maybe, trying to get a few of y'all to bite at Bottled Ocean and join me in reading my final fanfiction, but this author is finally, finally finished and it is the start of a new adventure.

Thanks everyone ♥

#writing #fandom #author #bottled ocean #icypanther #swan song #vld #voltron #lance #langst #whump #hurt/comfort

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jarofstyles · 2 years

Text

Cozy

Hello… we’ve got mountainrry author and hairdresser y/n here 🍂 I hope you enjoy!

They’re sweet babes.

Check out our Patreon!

WC: around 3k

WC/ around 3k

I hope you enjoy. I will do a part 2 if you’d like 🔮

—-

If there was one word she would use to to describe Harry, it was Cozy.

Y/N had never met someone who was so… soft. So warm in her life. He radiated the heat and comfort that a fireplace did on a snowy winters day. It made a lot of sense, considering where they lived.

Harry thought better in the woods. Being a writer, it was easier to keep his mind at ease when he was mostly alone. He had tried a plethora of places to try and write. Coffee shops worked out alright at first but the smell of coffee was too tempting and it messed with his stomach. The park was beautiful but one too many footballs to the head made him rethink it. It was a step in the right direction, though. Nature seemed to soothe his racing mind and have him be able to focus on the words he was writing versus the thoughts swirling around his head.

It had been trial and terror but somehow, he had managed to write his first number one best seller when he spent a month in a cabin in a mountain town. The inspiration never seemed to dry up, and it prompted him to take the generous earnings he made from the freelance writing he did on the side to buy his own cabin, not too far away.

It was this beautiful town he was eternally grateful for. It’s his oasis, his home, and where he met his lover.

Y/N had been a beautiful surprise packaged in a hairdressing apron. He had let his locks get overgrown being holed up while he wrote. It was to the point that his mother told him she would fly out to take scissors to his head if he didn’t go and get it done as soon as he could, which resulted in Harry taking his cell phone and searching the nearest salon.

It landed upon Sweet Thang. A smaller, up and coming salon in the little ski town he now resided in. The reviews looked fantastic, his mop needed a trim desperately, and it was only 10 minutes down the mountain. So he hopped in his truck and got down to thee town, finding a space on the street and headed into the salon, only to get the surprise of his life.

Y/N was immediately someone who he wanted. He was blown away with just how soothing her voice was, how she had managed to knock him out of his quiet, reserved space he usually got into when writing and made him want to talk. Which he did. Harry chatted and laughed with the pretty hairdresser with magic hands and the ability to relax him with her voice and a simple head massage. He had never clicked with someone so quickly in his life, which led to him asking her on a date after the best haircut of his life.

A year later, he was deeply in love, moved to the same little town they met and writing his 3rd best seller (fingers crossed) while he waited for her to come back home. Sitting in their dining room, his laptop sat on the oak table while the snow fell on the growing blanket, inches piling up soon. The man had woken up after she left with a kiss to his forehead and decided to work in their brightly lit common area today, needing the slight change of scenery. He moved about the house depending on the mood of the scenes he was writing.

His ears perked up as he heard the garage door mechanics pulling up, alerted to the fact his soon to be wife was now home. They’d moved fast, sure, but Harry didn’t have a single doubt. Their first date, he knew she would be his. Of course it was probably a bit of the romantic in him, he was a fucking writer after all, but he adored her. Worshipped the ground the woman walked on. He stood from the chair, stretching his back and winching at the cracks before making his way to the kettle. Every day she went to work, he made sure to have the kettle going when she arrived home from work. Her post day ritual of her herbal teas was adopted by him, taking down two mugs as his body giddily waited for her to walk inside.

“Honey, I’m hoooome.”

The sweet voice brought a grin to his face, leaning his ass against the counter as he watched her plop her snowy boots on the weather tray and hang her tote bag on the hooks harry had installed after he had tripped on her totes one too many times. Considering he stayed home most of the time, he was usually the one to work on the house. She was on her feet all day anyways.

“There y’are, mt gorgeous girl.” His voice traveled to her as her socked feet padded over to his tall frame. Immediately, she sank into his warm embrace, snuggling into the soft sweater he had put on to keep the chill out. He always chose the coziest things, but especially because of this moment. The time of day she would come home in the winter and seek out his heat, his comfort. A soft hiss left his teeth as he stroked her cold hair, pulling her closer as he kissed the top of her head.

“Freezing’ out there, isn’t it? Even just putting stuff away in the garage got you all frosty.” He sighed, not liking her being cold at all. Harry kept the fire stoked all day, taking breaks for his own brain to feed the fire and mess around so the house was toasty for his love to come home to. He had never felt such a compulsion to take care of someone before Y/N. Now it was a pleasure, second nature.

“Mhm. But I knew you’d have it feeling good at home.” She got on her toe, giving a peck to his lips before burying her face into his neck. Her cold nose made him wince but he didn’t pull away, instead enjoyed how she rubbed it back and forth on the heated skin, Y/N knew how creepy it sounded but she never felt close enough. Part of her wanted to crawl under his sweater and simply listen to his heart and feel his hands run up and dow her back for the rest of time.

“Made sure the fire was on all day. I’ll have to chop some wood tomorrow, though. Tea water is on for now,, wasn’t sure if you’d want jasmine, chamomile or mint.” She usually switched between the three while harry settled with his standard.

“Thank you, my angel.” Y/N sighed against his neck, kissing delicately over the vein there. “I can see you’re writing the softer stuff today.”

Harry had a series of predictable patterns. If he was writing lighter, softer things, it was in the brightly lit dinging room, open to the living room. Intimate scenes he wrote at the desk of their bedroom. More intense, dramatic scenes would be written in his home office. There was a space for everything. Outdoors in the summmer would be a wild card, though.

“Mhm. More world building. Dynamics forming. You know the same old.” He sighed, inhaling a deeper breath as she let her weight sag into him. He stroked over her back, going under her cardigan to the thin black tee shirt she had underneath. Y/N smelled like shampoo, the green apple and mint kind. It was his favorite thing, he thinks. “Made some muffins this morning for breakfast. And I’ve got pizza cooking in the oven now. Made the one with the peppers for me and your specialty one for you.” It had been a later day at ther salon as the holidays approached, and Harry tried not to complain. She had the whole week off starting now, and he knew her hands could use it.

“How’s your wrist?” Her wrist had been giving her some trouble lately with how much she moved them, Harry suspected some carpal tunnel. He knew all too well about it considering he had his bouts with it and typing. “Wear your brace today?”

A black bandage covered wrist escaped from behind him, raising up to show his eyes before going back behind him to cling to his solid form. “Yeah. Bothered me when I was using the scissors most but the brace helped. Don’t say I told you so.” She pepped, hiding her face in his shirt because yes. Harry had in fact told her so when she had been skeptical.

“I would never.” He smirked though, and she could feel it against the top of her head. “M’just glad it made it hurt less. Don’t like my girl in any pain. I remember how badly it can hurt. Remember? That’s why you showed me the wrist elevating mouse pad. Worked wonders for me. No shame. You’re working hard, but that’s why you’re getting your break now, hm?” He gently peeled her back so he could look at her face, polished fingers cupping her warming face. His glasses were on, a favorite yummy look of hers on him, stubble growing on his jaw. Harry looked delicious, if she did say so herself.

“Yeah.” She sighed, moving her hands to rest on his shoulders. “And that means you’ve got to take more breaks during the day to give me attention.” She blinked at him a few times, utterly serious. Harry could get into the zone and forget the house was bringing around him, so she wanted him to be aware.

“Of course. My favorite little distraction will be walking about. Probably in my sweaters because on top of being distracting, she’s a silly little thief.” He squeezed her cheeks together to make her lips pout, kissing them sweetly as she humphed in protest. “Plus, think I need a trim myself. So I hope you’re well versed in using kitchen scissors to cut-“

“Do not finish that sentence.” She placed a hand on his mouth. Her faux snarl melted when he kissed the palm over his lips, letting it move to scratch the stubble. “I like this. Keep it for a bit, for me. At least this week.” She felt it under her fingertips, moving back and forth on the texture of the hair on his chin and jaw. It was a personal favorite of hers, when he let it grow out just for her.

“Hmm. I can.” He smiled lazily, leaning his cheek into her touch. “But then I don’t want you complaining about carpet burn down there. Know your thighs are extra sensitive to it. I plan to spend all my free time there.” There was that mischievous glint in his eyes, but for once she was looking forward to said shenanigans. When they surrounded her pleasure, she truly couldn’t complain.

“Oh? Is that the type of week we’re having?” Manicured nails gripped his soft sweater, kicking a leg up behind her as she batted her lashes. Y/N looked ridiculous but he loved her, so he just laughed, pinching her hip lightly to make her cut it out. The little yelp was cut off with his mouth, successfully quieting her with a sweet kiss. Slightly obnoxious when he made a ‘mmmmm’ sound against them, making her want to giggle but refusing to pull away.

When she found an escape, a gasp was exaggerated at the extended kiss. “You tried to suffocate me!” The accusation held no weight, flopping right back on to his chest. Harry’s cheeks were slightly sore from the size of his smile. Moments like this, the domestic and cute were things he often dreamt about. Now he had his forever muse. The sole inspiration behind half of the feelings of love and yearning in his writing.

“I would apologize….” He trailed off, sneakily grabbing under her thighs and picking her up to set her ass on the counter. “But I am not sorry.”

The beep of the oven cut her off, Harry leaving her sitting on the island while she kicked her feet in protest.

It was something else. Watching his hand slip into the checkered oven mitt, sliding the pizza pans out of the over one by one and setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was incredible and her mouth was already watering, thinking about how good it had been last time. Harry was an incredible cook, especially with his spin offs to Pinterest recipes.

Watching him bop about the kitchen was somewhat arousing, too. Seeing his broad back as he picked things up, set them down, cut into things. Watching him pop a finger into his mouth to ‘clean it off’. The concentrated look on his face and the purse of his lips when he tried to get exact measurements. Y/N mourned the loss of that experience today. Damn work.

“Sexy little househusband.” She cooed, peeling her cardigan off and tossing it onto the nearby stool. He loved sitting her on the counter instead, and every time she tried fo ask why he would shush her. So rather than fight it, she accepted the inevitable. “Making me food when I get home, cleaning the house. It does things to a woman, y’know.” Twirling a strand of hair around her finger, she made a show of looking him up and down- because god damn, those pants did him some real service- and she giggled at the raised brow he gave her while he put the overhead fan on.

“Oh? You are something else.” He sighed, returning to her open thighs. His hand settled on her hip while the other grazed her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the opposite. “I’ll gladly be your sexy little househusband. As long as you let me write my books that sell millions of copies and sit in my chair while you do the head massage thing…”

He was so cute. Y/N had learned early on that her cause of death would probably be him.’ Harry being too cute’ plastered on her headstone. It was a nice way to go out, she thinks.

“Oh, you’re good.” She mumbled, taking each side of his face in her palms and squeezed a little to make his lips push out, kissing the wet pout. “Too good. I’m gonna give you such good head tonight. Mind blowing. Show stopping. Ridiculous. Pizza and being cute. Too much for me to handle.”

This made Harry perk up. Immediately. Of course it would- but he was particularly fond of her mouth. The things it could do and the words that came out of it. It was a never ending stream of love that flowed from him right to her, and it always felt matched. Reciprocated.

“There will not be a single complaint from me.” He said, slightly slurred because she had his lips squished with her hands on his cheeks. “Sounds good. Perfect? Actually. Let me block out my calendar. Next chapter can wait. Please.” He leaned forward and caught her lips again, the hands on her lover's cheeks loosening as he tugged her body to be flush against his. Indulging in a dirtier kiss, a hand straying to his hair and brushing it out of his face while he slipped under her tee shirt to feel the hot skin of her back again. Harry swore he would never get enough of this. Even in its simplicity, it was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

“Dork.” The word was mumbled against his lips, the buzzing feeling in the now slightly swollen flesh making her smile. “That was too sexy of a kiss. I need to eat some pizza and take a shower before any sort of intimacy happens. I smell like developer and shampoo.” She pushed his chest a little, making him sulk. Harry didn’t care either way, but he wanted her comfortable. Plus, in his mind, that meant she was going to put on sexy panties. Or none. He would love that.

“Fine. I need you fed and energized. The week break is going to be a lot of fun for us… so I need to make sure your in tip top shape. Especially if you’re going to be living with me inside of you. My beautiful girl…” he sighed, eyes taking in her face again. “Got spoiled rotten with you. Didn’t I?” The switch between dirty and sweet could give anyone else whiplash, but Y/N simply grinned.

“You did indeed. Now feed me and let me shower, househusband. Let me start this week off with a bang.” The woman didn’t even need to look up to know his mouth was open to retort something filthy. “And you should keep that mouth quiet if you want it to happen.”

Y/N didn’t hear a peep as she plated the pizza, smirking to herself all the while she heard the snap and crackle of a new record being put on.

She was home.

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #Harry styles fic #Harry styles au #harry styles writing #Harry blurb #Harry one shot #Harry fic #Harry fanfic

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nextinline-if · 1 year

Text

A Chance Encounter - Constantine Short Story

There's still some time left on the poll but Constantine is clearly going to win (big shocker lol). Here is the first short story I ever wrote for Patreon and for Next in Line. I hope you enjoy <3

Warning: violence, blood, death, war

The world spins as Constantine flies from his horse. A kaleidoscope of blue, gold, red, and black swirls in his vision. Until it's just black. The sounds of the battlefield have been replaced by ringing. A groan escapes his lips as he tries to push himself up with his left hand while his right-hand searches for the hilt of his sword.

“Looking for this, little Knight?”

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face. He stumbles up and turns around, his icy blue gaze landing on an Arandale soldier who grins as he spins the missing sword. Constantine blinks several times, hoping the world will stop spinning.

It does after a few seconds and he spits, blood landing on the ground around him. Even after all this time, he hasn’t gotten used to the way iron tastes. “Wouldn’t be much of an Elite Guard Knight if I need that to kick your sorry ass,” he growls at the soldier.

The soldier’s eyes narrow, rage rolling off him in waves. He sticks the Kinght’s sword in the ground, drawing his own from his hip. “Let’s put that theory to the test,” he replies, a smug smirk on his face.

Constantine takes a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of the war around him. Until he can no longer hear the clashing of swords or the dying cries of his comrades. He sends a silent prayer to Gaia. This could not be the moment before his death. He would not allow it.

The thud of the other soldier’s footsteps float to Constantine’s ears as the soldier moves toward him and throws his weight into his sword, but the Knight moves at the last moment, leaving both of them off balance on this foreign land.

And although the young Knight was larger than this other man, he was still nimble enough to kick the soldier’s hand, knocking the sword to the ground. The soldier lent down to retrieve his sword, but Constantine grabbed the man’s outstretched arm, locking it in place as he wrapped his other arm around the soldier’s neck.

The man struggled, his gasping echoing in the air around the pair. He desperately sought to fight the Knight’s arm away with his free one but it wasn’t long until Constantine had control of both arms and held them behind the soldier’s back. Then came the sound of snapping and the soldier’s neck went limp.

Constantine drops the body and hurries to retrieve his sword before looking around the bloody field in search of his horse. He finds her, her eyes fluttering as she tries to fight the inevitable. An agonized sigh leaves his lips as he kneels in front of her, his steel in one hand. “I’m sorry, girl,” he whispers as he runs his free hand through her mane. Nausea rises in his throat but he pushes it down.

He stands and swiftly plunges his sword through her chest. Then he turns on his heels and strides away. This was far from over and he knew that to linger even a moment on the pain of the necessary deed was to invite death.

One slain enemy after another turns into hours until finally, the light begins to give way to the night. The sounds of the dying are less frequent now. Still present but if he closes his eyes at the right time, he could have the illusion of peace. And he did just that as he embraced the shadow of a tree. But a strangled screech causes his eyes to snap open. Flames fill his vision as he rushes toward the sound.

A pair of distraught eyes meet him across the wall of flames. Two soldiers are circling a young man. Constantine runs through the flames, his armor and speed protecting him for the most part, although his cloak succumbs to the flames. The boy’s eyes widen in surprise and one of the soldiers turns to look, their eyes landing on the Knight.

They smirk as they turn their body toward him. Constantine wastes no time attempting a blow. But it falls short. As the minutes tick by, the sound of the growing flames knot his stomach. He glances over to see the boy barely holding off the other soldier, who towers over him. The Knight clenches his jaw as he directs his attention back to the one in front of him. He parries a strike, arms aching. But this is no time to think of rest. Or his next slumber will be eternal.

A surge of adrenaline propels him forward and the tip of his sword plunges through the neck of his opponent. He moves around the body, heart pounding in his ears.

The boy stumbles from the weight of the enemy’s weapon coming down on his sword and he falls to the ground. The soldier moves in for the final blow but Constantine intervenes from the side, knocking the sword out the soldier’s hand and then shouldering him hard in the chest. The Knight takes advantage of the soldier falling to the ground and sticks a hand out to the boy.

But just as the boy stands, the Arandale soldier grabs a dagger from his boot and plunges it into Constantine’s abdomen, in a place of weakness that his cloak previously kept hidden from view. He drops to one of his knees, a hand pressed against the gushing blood.

The boy gasps, eyes wide as he watches the Knight’s blood spilling over his fingers. Constantine swallows, only able to hear his heart in overdrive as he grabs his dropped sword with his other hand and thrusts it behind him without looking.

It makes contact with the soldier’s stomach. Constantine looks into the boy’s eyes. “End this.”

The boy’s eyes widen and he looks behind the Knight, at the struggling soldier who is preparing a final blow of his own.

“Now,” Constantine growls.

The boy heeds his command, tears rolling down his cheeks as he parries the soldier’s swing before his shaking fingers tighten around the hilt and drive it into his heart.

The Knight looks over his shoulder, a groan escaping his lips. He watches as blood pools around the fallen body. When he’s certain the chest is not rising, he uses his free hand to push himself up and turns to the boy, whose face is full of anguish.

Constantine sighs, remembering his first kill. And his second. And his third. And how it took years for him to stop seeing the faces of each new one when he closes his eyes at night. But there are still many faces he cannot forget. He puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What’s your name?” he asks gently.

The boy blinks and turns to look at him. “James…just James. And yours, Sir?”

The Knight smiles a little. “Just Constantine is fine, James.”

James nods and then looks back at the body before turning his gaze back to the Knight. “Thank you for saving my life.” Before Constantine can respond, James' eyes move to his bloody hand. “Let’s not linger, you need medical attention.”

“We should find some horses,” Constantine supplies.

“Okay, I’ll lead the way,” James says.

The Knight chuckles. “Sure you know your way back to camp?”

James’ lips twitch. “I’m not an imbecile.”

“Hmph.”

James rolls his eyes and starts walking in the direction of camp. They stick to the shadows until they come across two Arandale soldiers resting with their horses. After a successful sneak attack, the two ride off toward Castelon’s camp.

A sigh escapes Constantine’s lips as his vision begins to blur. James looks over at the Knight, his brow knitted. “Just a bit longer, okay?”

“Yeah,” Constantine responds, his voice weaker than he intends.

A few agonizing minutes later they come to a stop. Constantine lets out a grunt as his feet hit the ground. James wraps an arm around him and insists that Constantine lean on him. “You sure?”

James huffs. “Yes, I’m sure. Do I really look that weak?!” Constantine’s lips twitch, but James cut him off before he can respond. “You know what? Don’t even answer that.”

“James! There you are.”

An authoritative voice grabs their attention. Constantine’s breath catches in his throat when his eyes land on the crown sitting atop the man’s graying hair. The Knight pulls away from James and drops to one knee, biting his lip to contain the pain as he sticks his sword in the ground. “Your Majesty,” he says, voice dripping in awe as he stares at the sandy ground.

“I see you’ve met my son,” the King says. Constantine’s head snaps up and his eyes land on James. Both shock and pride surge through him. He had protected his future King. And not many could say the same.

James smiles at Constantine as he grabs his arm and pulls him up. “Save me would be more accurate, father.”

The King beams at the Knight and gives him an enthusiastic clap on the shoulder. “Then we shall drink in my tent tonight,” he announces, before taking his leave.

After escorting Constantine to the field hospital, James refuses to leave his side and waits for the doctor to tend to his wounds. “You don’t have to stay, Your Highness,” the Knight tells him.

James chuckles. “I wouldn’t dare leave my hero behind. Besides, my father wants to drink with you after this.”

Constantine glances at the Prince. When he decided to become a Knight, he never imagined that he would ever cross paths with his King, or his future King for that matter. He’d only hoped to raise his station in life by fighting for his kingdom. “I assumed he was only being polite, Your Highness.”

James grins. “My father doesn’t do ‘just polite.’ And the Highness stuff gets old real fast, stop it, would you?”

The Knight shakes his head and turns his gaze away from the Prince. “As you wish…”

A couple hours later, James and Constantine are walking toward the King’s tent. The doctor had advised Constantine to rest because he’d lost so much blood. But he couldn’t do that. When would he ever again have the opportunity to drink with his King? He only hoped he wouldn’t pass out from exhaustion. The other Knights would never let him live it down if that was the case.

But he needn’t worry about that - because the night was only full of ale and stories of Castelon’s royal family. A few hours where he forgot there was a war waiting to be waged again when Aurora rose the sun.

The King laughs and takes a sip of his ale. “That’s the perils of twins, Constantine. They gang up on you! Keep that in mind in case you ever have children.”

The skin around Constantine’s eyes crinkles as he takes another sip from his own mug. “I shall heed your words, Your Majesty.”

“Please,” James says, “my father over exaggerates. Besides, being a twin is the best thing about life.”

Constantine raises an eyebrow. “And why do you say that?” he asks. The King’s eyes bore into James.

James looks down into this mug, a small smile on his young face. “Because I have someone to fight for and to live for.”

Silence wraps around Constantine as he considers the Prince’s words. He’d heard that siblings could be protective of one another, but he was an only child so he didn’t know what that felt like. But there’s something else about James’ words that leaves him questioning the meaning. “But don’t you have the throne to fight for? To live for?”

James glances up from the drink, his expressionless eyes meeting the Knight’s curious blue ones. “The throne is only meant for us to die for, my dear hero.”

My Patreon is currently paused due to my focus on completing chapter 2 so it's not possible to subscribe at this time.

#Patreon short story #enjoy #thanks for all your support <3 #interactive fiction #james verissimo #constantine dimas #hopefully my writing is a little better now since I wrote this in September lol #short story

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cocrante · 6 months

Text

I Start Over With You

[SOLANGELO FANFIC]

summary: After the great battle against the forces of Gaea, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter had formed a long-lasting alliance. Everything had gone well, and everyone was ready to start anew. This included Nico, who, after confessing his feelings to Percy, was prepared to open a new chapter in his life—perhaps the happiest one the Fates had ever written.

note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Mondays and Fridays. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:

Reblogs are highly appreciated c:

[CHAPTER 15]

NICO STOOD STILL, GAZING INTO THE DARKNESS THAT SHROUDED HIS NEW ROOM. That room seemed to have grown colder after the message. He sighed before lying down on the bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and thinking about that one boy who could unsettle his mind with just one smile. He tossed and turned, wanting to try to really sleep for the night.

He fell asleep around three in the morning, with Will's sad eyes on his mind, somehow looking shattered. He had never seen that expression on that sunny face before. He was certain that whatever Will hadn't been able to tell him that night in the woods must be something important to so affect the son of the sun god.

With his head full of thoughts, he managed to fall asleep. It didn't seem like a long sleep to him; it felt like just five minutes, but the alarm clearly stated otherwise. He got up with a grunt, dressing and preparing for the first day of school.

He brought along a few things, some pens and a notebook, hoping they wouldn't start lessons right away on the first day.

The outside was kissed by the cold morning rays, slowly awakening the city. Nico took a deep breath of that air that seemed to smell like true Rome.

Lost in his memories, he made his way to the school. There was already a hustle and bustle of people on the streets accompanying younger children, and then there were older kids in groups making their way to the building. The building looked very welcoming; he hoped the inside would be too.

Finding his classroom was a real challenge. The school was larger than he had expected. But once he found it, he went to sit in one of those desks at the back of the class, near the window overlooking the courtyard.

Soon, the classroom began to fill with boys and girls, all cheerful and excited to start the year. They filled the air with warm and contagious laughter, asking each other how they had spent their holidays, ignoring the war that had just passed.

Then the bell rang, and with it came the teacher of the day. She introduced herself as their literature and Latin teacher, and then went on to outline the program they would be tackling throughout the year.

The morning seemed to fly by, perhaps because it was just an orientation day. Nico wrote down some notes on a piece of paper, names and class schedules along with the names of the books to bring.

During the break, someone had tried to strike up a conversation with Nico, but it died down when he mentioned which camp he came from or that his father was Hades. He was already used to those reactions; he had seen them in the eyes of his companions at Camp Half-Blood, although by now they had gotten somewhat used to it there.

He left in the afternoon, heading towards his new home. Outside the building, his sister was waiting for him, wearing the usual purple T-shirt from the camp. He smiled at her, hugging her as he always did when he saw her, then inviting her to come up.

Still, the apartment was empty; he had nothing to offer her except running water. He would make sure to stock the pantry the next day.

At the table, they began to talk a bit about school, how the first day had seemed to him, which according to Nico had been considered "normal" or rather, it went more or less as he expected. He also mentioned those two boys who had come to talk to him. Hazel shrugged, accustomed like him to the same welcomes.

"Speaking of more pleasant things" his sister changed the subject. "Jason sent a message to Reyna a little while ago, he said he'll come tomorrow to see how the work is going" she told him.

"Good" he managed to say, not expecting him to arrive so soon.

"Anyway, aside from Jason, what happened yesterday?" she asked, with that kindness that seemed to have been forgotten. Nico sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know Will Solace?" he lowered his gaze slowly, wanting to lift that weight off his chest.

"Yes, by sight" he replied. "Has something happened to him?" she asked, immediately concerned. Her brother shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, he's fine" he reassured her. "We spent time together, as friends" he told her everything, about the week in the infirmary, then about the canoeing, archery and even fencing lessons. He didn't spare her a single detail of those days spent smiling again. He also told her about the awkward conversations with friends, and there Hazel had to refrain from blushing, in those times people were really very explicit about certain things. "Then there was capture the flag" he said with a sigh, also telling her about that night when he had held his hand in the dark. "And that's not all" he lifted his gaze, resting his arms on the table. "On the hill, before coming here yesterday" he began, recalling in his mind that warm and pleasant memory. "Well, he kissed me. Right here" he pointed to his cheek, which still seemed warm.

Hazel remained silent, nodding at her brother's words. She knew that look; it was the same one she had when she got lost in memories of Sammy's smiles. "Nico, do you like him?" she asked.

The son of Hades didn't answer immediately, but the answer was obvious, clear as a fresh water spring. "Yes, Hazel, I like him" he confessed, unable to meet her eyes. "I like him in a completely different way than I liked Percy" he said, lifting his gaze to her amber irises. Pluto's daughter pursed her lips slightly, she wanted to see him happy finally, much like everyone else. She wanted to do something, but she knew she couldn't interfere in her brother's life; she would never forgive herself. "Nico, you have to tell him" she reached out, taking his hand, locking her eyes with her brother's dark and brooding ones.

"Hazel, I can't" his voice trembled; he had been there once before, hating the pain that emotion brought. "Who's to say he feels the same way?" he asked more to himself than to his sister.

Hazel didn't respond, Nico's question was a difficult one.

"No one tells you" she replied. "But you should try, from the way you've talked about him, it seems like this Will is looking for a different kind of relationship" she smiled. "Trust what you feel and tell him" the girl added, placing her hand on his wrist.

"I don't know, Hazel, I don't want to lose him as a friend" he looked at his sister, revealing his biggest fear.

"Trust me" she smiled.

Nico sighed and lowered his gaze. He knew Hazel was right, and so were the others. In a corner of his mind, he also wanted to talk to Will about his feelings that had developed over the course of the summer. Even Zephyr had warned him about his own feelings. He had to be honest and talk to Will, he couldn't keep it inside. "I'll try"

Before it got dark, Hazel said her goodbyes, hugging him one last time before leaving the apartment.

The boy went to his room, putting on something more comfortable, then glanced at the books still sealed in plastic wrap on the desk. He hadn't had a chance to take a peek yet. He randomly picked one, removing the protective film and started reading a few pages. They weren't bad, the words were large and spaced enough for him to read without them starting to blur together. Of course, it was still a struggle; his vision started to blur after the first two lines, but at least what he read more or less stuck in his mind.

The next moment, he remembered the schedule for the following day, where he had marked the books he needed to bring. He put them in his backpack, which suddenly felt heavy.

He resumed reading, occasionally flipping through some pages, eagerly awaiting Will's Iris message, and as he had thought, the air folded in on itself, revealing a window into the son of Apollo's room.

"Hi" Nico greeted.

"Hey!" Will replied, instinctively spreading his lips into a contagious smile. "How was the first day?" the boy asked, taking a seat. Nico shrugged, closing the book. "Normal, I think" he replied, briefly recounting what he had also told Hazel, mentioning those guys. Will couldn't help but let out a gentle laugh. "I've already told you, when you greet someone, you have to smile. Just like I do" he gave him a quick demonstration, still stretching his lips into a smile. Nico rolled his eyes, shaking his head, wanting to keep up the banter. "I swear, I tried. Smiles don't work even with me" he sighed theatrically.

"Then they must be blind, because you have a nice smile" he said, without any hint of joking. Will really meant it.

Nico was taken aback by that statement, then chuckled. "You must be blind too, it's not true that I have a nice smile" he replied.

"I like it" he said seriously. Once again, Nico fell silent.

"I like yours too" he murmured, trying not to lower his gaze due to embarrassment. Will smiled gently at him. "Thank you"

They remained silent for a few moments, with Will occasionally parting his lips as if to say something and then closing them as he reconsidered. It was Nico who broke the awkwardness, clearing his throat first.

"So—" he said. "Will I ever get to know what you wanted to tell me?" he asked, with a slight smile. Will's lips trembled a bit, he had been pondering it all day, even discussing it with his mother, whom he couldn't hide anything from. She had advised him to tell Nico, just like his half-siblings from Cabin Seven.

The boy took a long sigh, reorganizing his thoughts. Nico stared at him, patiently waiting to hear what he wanted to say that night, when they had accidentally held hands.

Will met his gaze, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He was convinced it would eventually burst out of his chest. "Well—" he began, stuttering a bit. "The thing, Nico, is that I—well, in a way, I admire you" he said, cursing himself for being so cowardly, but he couldn't bring himself to tell him the truth, not there, not in that barbaric way. He would tell him one day, for sure, but he would do it with the real Nico, not with a projection of himself that couldn't even touch.

Nico looked at him, slowly lowering his shoulders and slightly parting his lips as if to utter a weak "oh". A part of him was disappointed to hear this, he had hoped Will would say something else, something he had thought and hoped for all day. It seemed he had been so wrong.

The two talked a bit more before Nico asked to end the conversation, saying he was tired and that the next day would be a very heavy one. It wasn't entirely false, but he couldn't bear another moment looking at those blue irises, not now that he was sure Will considered him only a good friend.

"Shall we talk tomorrow?" he asked before ending the conversation. Nico didn't respond; at that moment, he wasn't sure if he wanted to spend another night talking to Will, who "admired" him only. "Maybe" he replied vaguely, his gaze now lowered and his eyes slightly stinging. "Will you call me?" he asked, extending his gaze in an attempt to see those dark eyes again, which he knew didn't only contain sadness but also joy.

Nico simply nodded. "Goodnight, Solace" he said, trying to sound stronger than he actually was.

"Goodnight, Nico" the boy replied, his voice sounding more subdued, he should have told him what he really thought.

The son of Hades looked away, quickly passing a hand over that steam-made window, thus wiping out the light from his room.

[CONTENTS]

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20

#🖇️ : fanfiction #i start over with you ☀️☠️#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #riordanverse #percy jackson #pjo #pjo fanfiction #camp halfblood

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artwithoutblood · 2 months

Note

i did publish a thing for patreon [that i dont use anymore] that was supposed to be a sex game about dorian and erebus at a christmas party but they just went to erebus's office and chatted because i cant write sex

I thought it’d be more like Dorian reeling around obnoxiously hitting on the few colleagues he doesn’t dislike and trying to dance on things not meant for the purpose. Trying to swing around the poles of the floor lamps.

His hat is gone. Erebus is chasing him and growing increasingly agitated because Dorian has stolen Erebus’ collar chain and is wearing it around his head

He basically would. Maybe not the pole part but the rest I could see.

I'm using this below to paste the thing I wrote. It wasn't finished.

a few familiar faces. a few faces that blend in with one another. erebus is one of them, and he certainly doesn't want to be there. but it's rude to live with two demons who are organizing a party and not join in on the festivities.

aeron doesn't like to host parties. at their own events, they sit in a corner, legs crossed with a cold glass of water in one hand. their eyes gaze emptily into the crowds, consciousness scanning faces and bodies that are a million miles away.

genesis always has to beg them. dissonance loves the lights, the music, the celebration. he's grown to love christmas because of his time with his children over the years. "people in the human world get together and have holiday parties! they drink n' dance n' wear stupid outfits! they even do it at work! ain't that crazy, aeron? we've gotta host one. please? we can do it in the gallery!"

delusion agrees, as long as it's far away from any of the breakable art. they settle on a banquet hall, used often for receptions or special exhibits. aeron decorates with colorful lights and decorative pine needles. genesis caters food and puts together the perfect playlist of classical piano and ambient drones.

erebus never liked fancy suits. sure, his usual attire was regal, elegant, fit for an archivist who spent centuries combing through books. but the suit that scarlet had crafted for him was far beyond his usual dress.

"i had made this for your predicessor," she had explained to him when he begrudgedly came to pick it up, "but since he's…gone, i thought i'd modify this for you. to fit you better, y'know."

delirium always hated being compared to dreams. he just had to swallow it.

the suit was beautiful, emblazened with appliques of snakes, ancient words, and images of the sun. the brooches on each collar were handcrafted from celestial silver, meant for the demon of dreams and repurposed for erebus's small stature. beautiful shades of green and black and gray, matched against silver jewelry.

familiar faces pass by erebus as he stood near a row of paintings, away from the drink tables and towards a corner's emptiness. diana handed erebus a glass of water and told him to call her over if he needed anything. graves staring with empty eyes, empty words, and a small platter of cake in his hand. aeron runs their fingers through his hair and thanks him for coming. xinyue talks him down from his anxiety by filling his head with thoughts of the next few days and what work erebus can do once the party is over. that puts his mind at ease.

he treats himself to small, strawberry tarts, seated in his own corner. most attendees ignore him. and that's just how he likes it, sitting as quiet as one of the corpse statues that line some of the halls outside of this cheerful place.

erebus has always been used to eyes on him. he assumes aeron is always spying, even if delusion isn't doing it actively.

but tonight is different. erebus looks up, finds aeron in the crowd, and breathes a sigh of confusion when he realizes the painter has their full attention on a man that erebus has never seen before.

who's looking at him then? he scans the area over and over, puts down his dish and stands up to do so. sweat drips delicately down his forehead. erebus never thought he'd miss the prying eyes of delusion, replaced by something foreign to him.

all erebus had to do was look right in front of him. across the long hall is another man, adorned in similar glasses and a muzzle over his face, leaning against a bookshelf and swirling a fruity drink in his hand. he presses the straw through the bars of his muzzle and to his lips, stealing another glance at erebus.

he has met dorian a few times in the past. librarians of different fields come to know each other, share their knowledge. dorian just barely leaves his domain, deep in the circles. he occasionally visits the gallery to admire aeron's newest handiwork. the two of them exchange art for knowledge, sometimes vice versa. dorian has joined them for dinner before, but all that heresy does is sit patiently, drinking tea and listening patiently to whatever comes from delusion's mouth.

they lock eyes for a few moments before dorian breaks it, closing them to indulge himself deeper in his tea. what does heresy want? erebus isn't sure.

but he sighs. he knows he has to do the hard work of reaching out.

erebus stands in front of dorian, arms crossed, foot tapping gently against the floor. dorian doesn't notice him - on purpose, of course - waiting for delirium to speak for himself. erebus sighs, defeated.

"are you going to explain yourself?" he asks, his brows furrowed.

dorian pushes the bridge of his glasses further up his nose. "hm, explain what?"

"you've been staring at me from across the room for at least five minutes now. is there something on my face?"

"besides your pretty eyes, no."

erebus hasn't been able to blush in centuries, but he knew his ears would be burning red at that if he could.

dorian just laughs. "i'm teasing you, erebus. i've just been debating on whether or not i move to talk to you, but i was too absorbed in this drink…"

"that you were too lazy to move and walk over to me?"

"that's right."

but why talk to me?" erebus doesn't seem to understand why anyone would care for his presence at this party other than his own coworkers.

"a few reasons," dorian places his drink on a nearby table. "first, you're the only person here who looks just about as lonely as i."

"you don't have people to talk to, dorian? you're important. you're one of the most important people here, i'd say."

"you know i'd say the same about you, head archivist."

"erebus. just call me by my name." he clasps his hands together, gently squeezing his palms together.

"erebus." his name is heavy on dorian's lips, slow, said with a soft taste of pine in his voice.

"…you aren't pitying me right now, are you?" it's what erebus hates most.

"no…" dorian shakes his head. he eyes the exit next to him, where the lights grow dim and the music would dissolve into silence. "i can talk to anyone here whenever i'd like. but you are a rarity. even at archives receptions, you are holed up in your office or pretending to be busy so no one approaches you."

"you of all people should know how important our work is," erebus is frustrated, eyes darting away from dorian, hoping that someone will grab him by the arm and whisk him away from this obligation.

"i do. of course i do," dorian nods, "but…"

"but what?"

"is it wrong that i've wanted to get to know you? know you past the formalities of work?"

"heresy is a liar, you know. why should i believe you?"

"i'd like you to use my name too."

erebus swallows. his eyes land on aeron, who is in the middle of putting on a haphazard theatric performance of some horrible story that happened to them recently. aeron notices immediately and locks eyes, smiling, waving their left hand.

god, sometimes his roommate is so innocent.

"why, erebus, are you acting like i want to hurt you?" dorian is serious. he may have been teasing earlier, but his eyes are dark, lips now neutral as opposed to curled upright in his default smile. "is it because everyone else you've ever met has wanted to hurt you? or, at least, that's what you think is happening?"

erebus swallows hard. he looks through dorian, rather than at him.

"because…i'm not here to do that," dorian shakes his head. "especially not here, surrounded by people. in fact, i rather admire you and your commitment to your work. but even so…"

erebus can't bother to look at him right now.

"i can tell you want to talk about other kinds of things. you love your books, but you love other things. but you don't feel like you're worth it past what you're good at. i'm right, aren't i?"

delirium falls silent, his head to the floor, inhaling deep breaths despite no longer needing to use his fragile lungs. dorian does not break the silence between them. he waits for erebus to speak.

and erebus does. "but why does that matter to you? why do you care?"

"do i need to have a reason?"

erebus rubs the dark circles under his eyes.

dorian makes his intentions clear. "i'm asking if the two of us can exit this loud, crowded room. i want to sit down with you, alone, and i want to hear erebus talk. not the archivist, not delirium, but erebus."

erebus looks back up, locks eyes with dorian. "you want me alone?"

"so i can focus on all of you, yes."

delirium will admit he would much prefer to be pulled away from the loud noise and the heat of other bodies. erebus can already feel the weight lifting off his chest, only to be replaced with nearly equal weight, all from one person: dorian.

erebus gives in. "fine."

dorian smiles.

erebus leads dorian down the hall, and the music that encapsulated them starts to fade. he knocks every so often against the wood finishings of corners, of the frames of old paintings. dorian cocks his head in confusion.

"i have a door somewhere between here and my office," erebus explains. doors are like small portals. genesis hides dozens of them in their shared space, all so he can steal trinkets and food from the other two members. he steals erebus's teabags and areon's sewing supplies, but he gives nothing back in return.

eventually, an old painting of a boat, ravaged by a stubborn sea, glows blue with absolute light. a small door opens, and erebus bows, inviting dorian inside.

"can i get you something new to drink?" erebus asks, "i know you just had…what were you drinking?"

"a shirley temple," dorian responds. erebus's office is small, ornately decorated yet humble all in the same visage. it was much like erebus was, strung with books on every wall, with globes and keys and small vials of ink leaving the place in its own orderly disarray. erebus pulls the chair from behind the desk to the front, allowing dorian and erebus to sit on equal footing. "i'm alright. thank you."

erebus nods, makes himself a cup of green tea with jasmine, and sits down.

it takes a few minutes, a few spits of reassurance from dorian for erebus to talk. sometimes, his eyes never leave the swirling liquid inside his teacup. eventually, erebus unravels. he talks about his greenhouse and all the plants he's been growing inside. he talks about his collection of antiques from before his own demonhood, all related to the stars above. he talks about some novels he's read, not novels he's written.

erebus has never been very good at reading emotions.he checks dorian's eyes, his mouth (or what he can of it due to the muzzle), but dorian does not break eye contact once. he sits with full attention on erebus, only moving to settle deeper into his chair. there seem to be stars in his eyes, admiration circling those irises of his. erebus swallows, adjusts his glasses, continues.

does dorian like it? is this just a ploy to collect information on him? erebus didn't really care; his mouth were running faster than his brain was.

but the intense staring, mind swimming…it makes erebus anxious, after an hour or so of infodumping all over this man who was barely more than a stranger.

"am i…bothering you? you look disappointed in me."

dorian refuses to break eye contact (erebus's worst nightmare) as he reaches two of his fingers up to his face. they slide between the bars of his muzzle and swipe gently over his own black lips. "i'm not disappointed in you, erebus. not at all. i'm disappointed in myself."

"why is that?"

heresy stands, his intricately-embroidered coat unfurling with him, revealing shimmering spider lilies and camellias. he gently pushes his glasses further up his nose. erebus is cautious and takes a stand as well, moving his body away from the chair.

"dorian? is everything alright?" erebus asks, but he fears his question will fall on deaf ears.

erebus has always been shorter than dorian, but as dorian approaches him, those silver-plated high heels on his feet, erebus realizes the size difference much clearer. it doesn't take long for erebus to find his back to a wall, with dorian placing one arm next to erebus's head, preventing any escape.

"i'm just disappointed that…" dorian breathes a heavy sigh. any twinge of shame lies behind that muzzle and refuses to leak out. "…i can't kiss you right now."

erebus's eyes go wide. "i'm sorry…?"

in most situations, erebus would have fished a pair of scissors from his pocket and driven them straight into dorian's chest. two problems arose:

one: he doesn't have his scissors, because this wasn't his usual outfit. he must have left them in the pocket of his uniform.

two: he doesn't really…want to, no matter how much his voice swims in confusion.

they sit in silience, whose pressure never bursts or dwindles, and dorian stares with those stars still in his eyes.

erebus is the first to break the silence. "why?"

dorian does not answer at first. that makes erebus anxious.

"…please let me go."

dorian responds immediately. "i'm trying to find a way to explain this that would help you understand. if i tell you that i have no reason, you'll panic. if i tell you it's because you're beautiful, alluring even in your mystery, you'll deny it. if i sit in silence, contemplating an answer, your hands will shake, as they do now."

he locks his fingers with one of erebus's hands. delirium's limbs make small tremors. dorian remedies this by pressing his forehead against delirium's. erebus's eyes light up, confusion being sprinkled with…wonder? relief? he wasn't sure. all erebus knows is that someone is using his name, is holding him and singing him sweet praises that he's never heard in his life (this isn't true, erebus just was not receptive, but that barely matters when heresy pins you against a wall in your own office).

dorian's hand slides back to erebus's face, gently cupping his cheek, thumb running along his jawline. "if you're so anxious, i can stop, we can return to our conversation, and we can pretend this never happened."

erebus does not respond for a long, long while. his mind was swimming, trying to drown his own complex. dorian was, without a doubt, beautiful; something about his mismatched eyes, his black lips, his off-white skin, it was all beautiful. dorian makes himself irresistable just by his existence, and erebus was still trying to wrap his head around why dorian was interested in someone as boring, mean, and hard to obtain as erebus.

maybe the last part was it. it didn't matter now. the bird has caught the snake, right on his own grounds.

erebus raises a hand up to one of the long pieces of dorian's hair. the rest had been tied into a delicate bun and secured with silver hair accessories, save for two sections that trailed down to his chest. his eyes focused on the variations in colors of dorian's hair. peach, off-white cream, gray, strawberry blonde.

"is…everything alright, erebus?"

"pretty."

"what?"

"your hair is pretty."

dorian laughs. "you really think so?"

"yes."

"it used to be curly," dorian explains, "but i suppose the first death and the ash somehow flattened it. thankfully, it's still soft.

"i like it like this," and erebus brings the hair to his nose, inhaling the scent. dorian smells like patchouli and rose with a hint of vanilla.

heresy's ears light up with red, making the silver jewelry glow even brighter.

"for someone so touch-averse, i'm surprised you had the nerve to…sniff my hair?"

"i like nice-smelling things. it puts me at ease." erebus opens his eyes and looks back up at dorian, and the anxiety flushes back in.

"you're a little weird, don't you know that?"

"i…i'm sorry." erebus looks embarrassed.

"no, that's a good thing. i like that."

#dorian ask #erebus ask

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harrysfolklore · 2 years

Note

please you write beautiful, so I have to ask you to make a imagine of harry and the reader where she and he write together sweet nothing like taylor and joe, thanks 🥺

sweet nothing

something lovey dovey for valentine’s day, i love you <3

MY PATREON | MASTERLIST

Your relationship was still a secret to the world.

They knew about you and Harry working together for his album, Harry's House, but they didn't know about the feelings that sparkled between the two of you, the shared kisses and intimate moments. They didn't know about your sweet nothings.

Sitting by the piano, with your writing journal and pen in hand, you reflected about you and Harry, about how last July you escaped from the busy life and the spotlights, and went away to your cottage in Wicklow, where you spend every second together, falling more and more for each other. You thought about how one night as you stargazed, he told you that your eyes reminded him of the tiny fireflies he used to watch growing up, and how you both promised that whenever life got overwhelming you'd always find home in each other.

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

The words came to your mind smoothly as you scribbled them down in your journal, during the last few months, you've found out that writing about Harry was the easiest thing in the world.

You were in love, and your songs reflected it.

"Busy there?" his soft voice made you turn you head towards the door, he was leaning against the frame with a relaxed smile and a fond look on his eyes, you couldn't help but melt at the sight, everything about him radiated comfort.

"Just writing songs," you said as you made room for him next to you on the piano's bench, he kissed the side of your face tenderly once he sat next to you before speaking again, "Love songs about me?" his cheeky remark made you let out a breathy laugh, he was right.

"What makes you think you're any good of a muse, Styles?" you decided to tease him, even though he had been your only muse for the last few months, just as you have been his.

"Baby, I'm a great muse! Stevie Nicks said it herself!" his words made you laugh again and you moved your hands to brush away a loose curl from his forehead, taking the opportunity to press your lips to his for a moment. You could never get enough of the other, and you cherished these moments when it was just you and him wrapped up in your little love bubble.

"Remember that poem I wrote on our way home from Wicklow?" you said after a few minutes of silence, with your head against his shoulder, "I do, you never showed it to me tho." his voice was soft and quiet, as if he didn't want to break the tender ambiance around you.

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "what a mind" This happens all the time

"It is about how I find safe heaven by your side whenever life gets hard" you let yourself be vulnerable, at the end of the day, Harry was the one who taught you that being vulnerable was part of being human.

And Harry could only look at you in pure love and adoration, he felt so lucky that he found someone so honest and real, someone he was willing to protect and take care of.

"You're my safe heaven too, baby. Nothing else matters if I get to come home to you and your sweet nothings" he confessed, every single one of his words touching every fiber of your heart.

You stayed like that for a while, your head against his shoulder and his hand softly caressing your back, scribbling lyrics on your journal and playing soft melodies in the piano. The world outside was full of pushing and shoving, but as long as you got each other you would be alright.

They said the end is comin' Everyone's up to somethin' I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shovin' You're in the kitchen hummin' All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

taglist: @cucciolafaerie e @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles story #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles headcanon #harrysfolklore #harry styles drabble #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fan fiction #1k #hsfolklore archive

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afpwestcoast · 3 months

Text

9:30 Club, Washington, DC, 6/15/24

At the pre-show Patreon meet-up I told Amanda about Melissa’s theory that if the crowd sings along to Weezer before the show it will be a good crowd. Amanda said they should do that on purpose and put good sing-along songs on the pre-show playlist. She crowd-sourced suggestions, and one of the first was ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ by Queen.

“Would people really sing along to that?” She asked. “YES!!!” was the incredulous response (I actually almost thought she was joking at first).

At the show the playlist proceeded as normal. Weezer came and went with nary a peep from the crowd. We were worried. And then it happened. ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ came on and the entire place erupted in song. It was so enthusiastic that the crowd actually applauded themselves at the end. This segued directly into The Doors’ cover of ‘Alabama Song’ — originally by the Dolls’ patron saints: Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill — which is the song they take the stage to. Needless to say, the crowd was pumped. This show was being livestreamed by a professional company, and the presence of multiple cameras added to the theatricality of both the band and the crowd. It was high energy, with plenty of extra flourishes, but with a few minor hiccups that allowed the band to showcase their adaptability. In my humble opinion this is the recipe for a perfect Dresden Dolls show!

Annotated Set List:

Good Day

Sex Changes

Gravity

My Alcoholic Friends

Amanda paused to explain the livestream, say hello to the folks watching online, and give a shoutout to Headcount, who were on site registering people to vote. “We’re really thinking about singing our lungs out this evening, whattaya say?” was Brian’s response. <cheers>

“This is a song about my ex-boyfriend!” Amanda exclaimed, by way of introduction. Backstabber Missed Me

Mrs. O

Astronaut (A Brief History of Nearly Nothing) (Amanda Palmer cover)

Brian: <texting … on a banana> Amanda: Brian are you texting? Don’t text at the show. Put that banana away. Brian: <turns back, continues texting … on a banana> Amanda: There’s no texting in Punk Cabaret. Brian: <skewers banana on the high hat, then spins it so it travels all the way down to the cymbal, leaving a trail of banana slime> Amanda: Ooooh! It’s a symbol! Crowd: <laughs> Brian: <ba-dum CHING!> Amanda: I’m serious. Put the banana away. Brian: <throws banana over shoulder> Amanda: Um … welcome to our show! So here’s the weird thing about the Dresden Dolls: We’re a very … silly band. Brian: Yeah we’re just getting to the weird part.

“We booked these shows for a purpose,” Amanda explained, “and then we decided to stream because this is the last show we’re playing this spring. We don’t have another show until late October, so we are going to completely fuck you up tonight.”

Welcome to the Internet (Bo Burnham cover)

Mister God

Houdini

“I wrote some really sad songs in New Zealand and I didn’t think that any of them would be Dresden Dolls songs cuz they were like … they were just fucking long, piano-y, cathartic ‘fuck my life’ songs. But this one made the cut.”

Whakenewha (pronounced Fuckin-A Fa)

Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover) (Brian on guitar, Amanda in the balcony, with a fan)

“Is it possible that anyone was at our very first gig at IOTA in Washington, DC in like 2002, I think?”

It was, in fact, possible.

Pirate Jenny (Bertolt Brecht, lyrics; Kurt Weill music)

- Housekeeping -

They tried to start the next song, but the keyboard had lost power. While Jaron was fixing it Amanda told a story.

“I’ve had two or three people come up to me in the last few months at shows and tell me something with tears in their eyes that has brought tears to my eyes for real, which is like, someone would clasp my hands in their hands and say, ‘I just have to tell you I was raised in a punishing born-again Christian family and the Dresden Dolls were my first secular band.’ And I’m like, ‘EXCELLENT!’ What a good first secular band to have! And anyway, if you believe in Jesus kind of so do I; he was just like, ‘Be nice.’”

Mandy Goes to Med School (Brian on guitar and drums to start) There are three embellishments that occasionally get added to this song: a jazzy piano interlude, Brian leading the crowd in the ‘hi de ho’ chant from Cab Calloway’s ‘Minnie the Moocher,’ and an excerpt from ‘Careless Whisper’ by Wham! Often they just play it straight with none of these, but they occasionally add one or the other for a little spice. Tonight, after the abortive start, they did all three and it was sumptuous. Coin-Operated Boy Amanda riffed on the Jaws theme, then teased Girl A, before breaking into the song.

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

Girl Anachronism As she had the first night in Philly, Amanda started with a little ‘Call to the Post’ before hitting the afterburners.

— —

As the band returned to the stage I said, “They’d better do ‘Sing’ because I’m not sure I can survive anything else.”

Sing (Brian on guitar to start) Thank god!

After the show Amanda came out for the traditional Patreon group photo. I was just coming up from the basement bar with a drink and didn’t really know what was going on. I was trying to make my way through the crowd when I looked up to see Amanda towering over me. And then she just start falling forward. I put one hand in the middle of her stomach, but I had a drink in my other hand. She did a sort of flip and landed with her head on my left shoulder, spilling my drink all over me in the process. “You’re an asshole,” I said.

“So are you,” she replied. “That’s why we get along so well!” I said.

Photo Gallery:

In My Mind at the Patreon meetup.

Pre-show front row selfie (by Scott Hanes)

The most expressive drummer in the world!

Brian lends a helping hand.

Just … don’t ask.

A silly band indeed.

Amsterdam

Amanda comes to the front of the stage to talk to a fan who was present at the first Dolls show in DC in 2002.

Brian channels his inner Vanna White.

That’s some serious side-eye!

Amanda has serious hattitude

The Dresden Dolls introduce their new drummer: Cousin It!

War Pigs!

That’s a wrap!

Betsy gives Amanda a shoulder massage after the show.

Post-show selfie with Amanda and Michael (by Scott Hanes)

After party! (by Betsy Cacchione)

I fuckin rock. Apparently. Thanks Kitty! (photos by Michael McComiskey)

#dresden dolls

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wthtorke · 2 years

Text

Abyss (Pt. 2)

Kjuhte won the voting on my Patreon last month so I wrote a second part to his story!

(Part 1)

Healing from your wounds was the easiest part of life on the ship. The training was hard, socializing was worse, and keeping up with everything seemed downright impossible.

You had things to do while you didn't have a stable job. You mopped floors, took out endless amounts of trash, helped in the kitchens, served people, helped in lab cleaning, and ran just about any errand asked of you.

While you didn't have a degree in anything, the Interspecies program offered numerous courses for anyone with the will to do them. They were not college degrees, but stagnating wasn't something you wanted. Free time was a tight spot, but you took nearly all of the 'short - medium' term ones, hoping if you took enough of them, a door would open somewhere in the ship for you.

You were dead set on getting a permanent job, and while there were geniuses among your people, you weren't one of them. Not that you weren't smart and capable, but neurosurgery and advanced piloting weren't on your resume, so to say.

You stared at your datapad back in your cramped quarters, sitting on your dingy bunkbed while another three humans snored away in their bunks around you. "Human job opportunity applications" flashed in blue, with a yautja transcript under it that you guessed was a translation of the title. You scrolled through the listings trying to imagine yourself in any of them, trying to find one you could get with your current skills.

Junior Engineering (Lower deck engines)

Messenger (Cockpit crew)

Messenger (Engineering crew)

Docking operator

Cook (Upper kitchen)

Server (Upper kitchen)

Supply stocking

Supply distribution

Nurse

Housekeeping (Upper human housing ward)

Medical assistant

Medical assistant?

Y ou frowned, then hummed, clicking the tab.

Job Duties -

Schedule appointments

Obtain blood samples

Perform data entry and update

Measure and record vital signs

Sterilize exam rooms when needed

Job Requirements -

Must be of age - 21 human | 120 Yautja

Detail oriented

Must have completed all basic through advanced first aid Interspecies courses

Understanding of lab sampling and handling

Understanding of basic yautja culture

(1/2)

You fumbled for your course's certifications, reading back and forth to see if you had missed any mandatory requirements, double-checking everything before becoming hopeful.

Filling out the application was the easiest part. You signed the terms and uploaded your course certificates and your resume. You winced before quickly hitting 'send' and shutting the datapad off, throwing it away from your lap like it'd bite you, and going to bed right after.

You worked the next day, going back and forth between the numerous tasks and errands they asked of you when, in the middle of your 'shift', your human wrist gauntlet went completely silent. You sat in a quiet corner near the lower living quarters, munching away at a sandwich as you stared at it. Did it break? You usually had a list of tasks- even if you hadn't completed the one you had at hand yet, they were assigned automatically.

You frown and take another bite of your sandwich, looking quizzically at it like it could give you answers before a single beep had you looking back at your wrist.

'Log change_... New Worker Assignment: Med bay.'

Med bay?

MED BAY!

Another beep.

'Current Job Title: Medical Assistant - Location: Yautja ward. Supervisor: -'

"What?" You said, mouth half-full. "Yautja ward? But-" You frowned, "But it said it was a human job?"

'Instructions: Seek the head nurse in the Yautja ward_.'

You jumped up from your spot, eating the rest of your lunch as you jogged to the nearest elevator, briefly checking your teeth on its shiny panels before making your way to the med bay.

It was the first time you set foot in the hospital without an injury, and for once, it felt nice. The hospitals were spotless, bustling with nurses, doctors, and patients. The reception was in the middle, where both humans and yautjas checked their patients in. On top of the reception stood two signs.

Human ward on the left. Yautja ward on the right.

You looked at your gauntlet once more and turned right. Going through the people, you reached the first nurse post, where yautjas worked fast on their systems, people coming and going, grabbing supplies from the post's stock or a datapad to call for a patient. So far, the only humans you saw were maintenance or housekeeping, and one single emergency nurse was going through their patient's medical history to the yautja nurse taking over.

"Excuse me, I need to see the head nurse. I'm the new medical assistant." You say, one of the yautja nurses looks up at you, nodding and looking back at their screen. "Follow through to the end of the corridor, turn left, catch the elevator to the second floor, end of the corridor on the right."

You nod and say your thanks, moving quickly past the busy people and heading to the office you were appointed to. You stand before the open door and peek your head inside, seeing no one. Were you at the right place?

"Behind you."

You jump a bit, turning back, "Oh sorry, I'm here to see the head nu-" You choke on your words as the very doctor from your little musings was standing there, looking rather unimpressed with your gaping. "I- the-, the head nurse-"

"He's busy. I came to retrieve you personally since you are to be my assistant anyway."

What.

"What?"

"You are my assistant. You applied for the job, I chose you. Follow me." He says, already walking down the corridor. You stood there stunned for a few seconds before jogging to catch up with him.

"I-"

"You have a big assortment of certificates under your name. I hope you paid attention to the classes. I will need your experience." He says. You nod. "Yes, sir-, everything is valid." Did people not pay attention to the courses? How could that even happen?

"Good." Kjuhte takes a turn and enters the elevator, you jump in beside him. "I had no idea I was applying to be your-, ah, personal medical assistant, sir-"

"Call me Kjuhte or doctor. Not sir, and specifying that would have left room for choosing and favoritism. Things are to be impartial. No external reasons for acceptance or not."

'I would have applied sooner if I knew it was you, so there’s that.' You think, remembering your first encounter with him, walking down that corridor, and how everything seemed to slow down with his presence. Kjuhte had a hard exterior, cold, even. He had walls up, and so far you didn't know about anyone who ever managed to break them or be on the other side of it. He seemed…lonely; but at peace with that like he wanted it to be that way.

"You are not required to start today, seeing as there was a severe delay in the system and they ringed you in late. However, I'd like to give you a quick run of things, since we have some precious minutes to spare."

His voice made your ears ring. It was deep and almost...velvety. Not what you're used to coming from a Yautja, but certainly not unwelcome, you felt. The way he looked at things also made your hair stand on end like things held secrets from him. Secrets he would find out with his eyes alone. You didn’t doubt he had that ability. You just hoped to God you wouldn’t have to lie to him; those eyes would see right through it.

“Yes sir-, um-, Doctor Kjuhte.”

He nods, “Good. This way.” The elevator door opens, and you realize you’re one floor higher than before, following him out of it. “Your job will be to keep me updated on cases. You will organize and update files; I work day and night, though your shift hours shall remain fixed. The reason for your hiring is the upcoming Chiva season. Surgeries will increase, and I will need all help possible.”

You nod, “I’ll do my best. Is there any particular way you’d like things done?”

“I don’t expect you to do perfectly right away, but I do appreciate and reward effort. First, you’ll do a round of checkups on my current patients, take any samples I might have asked for during the night and get any ready results and bring those to me, and if I’m in surgery, you’ll kindly leave them at my office, which is here.” He presses his gauntlet to a door panel, and you marvel at the inside.

Kjuhte’s office is spacious; the dark walls lit up by yellowed spotlights on the ceiling set a calm mood for the office, so different from the buzzing of people on the floor below you. He had shelves with books, miniatures of bones and skeletons, and some lizard-like specimen poised on wood plaques, a tiny diorama surrounded by collections and collections of books; some human, some yautja, some you had no idea where from.

At the center of the office stood his desk and chair, with two smaller, simpler chairs in front of them. Behind his desk and chair is a glass wall, giving a view of space. He walks to his desk, his black cape following him as he walks. “If I’m not in surgery or checking my patients, I will be here, always.” You nod dumbly, trying so hard not to gape at him. “The datapad with my patient’s files will be here at my desk every morning, in it will be your tasks. I will write your tasks only in the first days. I will not baby you forever.”

You gulp, “Yes, doctor.”

“Any questions?”

You shake your head, then consider again, “Well, yes-, will someone else be working like me? Another assistant, maybe?”

He shakes his head, “I only needed you.”

Oh.

“I see.”He turns his back to you, gazing at the stars, closing his hands together on his front as his cape shields the rest of him from you. “You are free to go. Rest and eat properly; your first shift starts tomorrow.” He says; you nod, turning to leave when you hear his voice again. “Assistant?”

“Y-yes?”

His tusks click as he turns his head slightly to acknowledge you again. “You do not answer to anyone in this hospital but me. Understood?”

Your mouth goes dry, “Yes, understood.”

He nods at you, turning back to the stars.

#yautja #Yautjas #yautja x human #human/yautja #predators #predator #alien vs predator #Aliens vs predator #The Predator #Headcanon #yautja/human #Kjuhte stuff #Alien #Aliens #alien relationship #yautja boyfriend

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hauntedwitch04 · 5 months

Note

Hi 😊

Could I ask for a Castiel Novak x plus size reader smut, please??

Castiel seems like a cute puppy by the way he looks.

Reader is super insecure about her body but she wanted to do Sam and Dean a favor and went to a bar/club with them. Some skinny chicks come up to reader and bully her cause of her body, when Castiel arraived and protects reader. They are talking outside, go to the Motel and castiel praises her body from head to toe

A/n: Hiii! I'm so sorry to be this late, but uni is killing me and I had litterally wrote it between train stops :) I hope you like it and respect your idea, with love Becky

Angel

Castiel Novak x plus size!reader

Words: about 1.7k words

Warnings: a bitch (she is a vamire so literally a monster), hating about your look and just a super cute and fluffy Cas ;)

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist-Join the Taglist-Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

You knew that this choice of yours wouldn’t have brought you anything good, but no one could say no to Sam’s puppy eyes. You cursed the entire friendship with the Winchester brothers the moment you sat at the bar.

They had a new case, a vampire it seems, that seduced women at this bar where you are right now, brought them home and then killed them. And obviously the second they understood that they needed a decoy turned to the third resident of the bunker with soft eyes and a question on their lips. Now you are sitting on a very uncomfortable chair, in a little skimpy dress that leaves little to none to the imagination of who you have near. You always had a bad relationship with your body, and when you saw the dress that Dean bought for you to go on the hunt you just wanted to run away and hide in your room feeling the little confidence that you have dissipated. Castiel on the other hand, felt your discomfort and didn’t really understand why you felt like that and decided to ask you about this feeling. “Why do you feel this bad? Dean has a great taste in dress, with all the porn videos-” Said the angel looking at you, while you felt your cheeks become red with embarrassment.

“Yeah Cas we have understood.” Blocked him Sam, while he turned to look at you, with a concerned look. “Hey, by the way you don’t have to do this, you know it right? We can always find another way to hunt this vampire down.”

You tried to find the courage to say what you felt to them, but the feeling of letting them down was too bad so you put a fake smile on your face and just lied another time to them: “Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just, I don’t think that this color suits me, you know.” You responded, and within a second, with a snap of his finger, Cas changed the color of the dress to your favorite, while still looking at you with his eyes, of a light blue that the same sky was jealous of it.

“Thank you, so much better now.” You said, taking the dress from Dean's hands, and going to your room to change. After you arrived, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath, thinking of how you will find the courage.

You are lost in your thoughts when a man comes near you, and asks if you know where the bathroom is . You smile at him and give him the direction to find it. He smiles back at you, and thanks, before going where you told him. You return your attention back on the drink you have in your right hand, since you decided that there is no way you are doing all this shit sober. Dean and Sam are close by, just a few meters behind you, looking for signs of the monster you are hunting. You feel the phone buzzing near your hand, you look at it and you see a message from Sam.

<<Everything ok?>>

<<Yeah, he just wanted to know where is the bathroom.>> You texted back at him. You are about to ask him how long you have to stay, since you are starting to get really uncomfortable, when a hand takes place on your shoulder, and makes you turn in the direction of who is touching you. You see its owner is a young and pretty woman, with long blonde hair on her shoulder and a fake nose. You are concerned if you can even breath from how small the little dress is, her fake boobs look like they are gonna explode from the pressure.

“What do you think are doing?” She ask you, and you look at her, while you don’t really understand what she is talking about.

“Sorry, I think you are talking with the wrong person?” You say, trying to go back in the comfortable position you found moments before her arriving.

"No, bitch, I'm really talking to you. What do you think you're doing, hitting on my man? Well you are so wrong. Do you really think someone like you could ever be interested in anyone, I mean have you seen yourself in the mirror? The poor guy would certainly get crushed if he tried to sleep with you. And don't you think this dress is a bit too much for you, you certainly have a lot of nerve to put on something like this showing everything that is wrong with you.-" The girl is interrupted by you, who quickly grabs your things and runs out of the club. Dean seeing this abrupt escape calls you on the phone to find out if everything is all right, not having heard, but having seen that a woman, not very kind in her own words, had approached you in a threatening manner. You, as usual in these cases, lie to your friend saying that you merely couldn't stay inside the freaking club anymore and would be back inside in a few minutes, trying not to let him hear through your cell phone the urge you have to cry.

Once the call with Dean is over, alone, you finally burst into tears, releasing the tension you had been building up for the past few minutes.

You spend a decida of minutes sobbing in the farthest, darkest corner of the parking lot, hoping no one sees you, when you suddenly hear a rustling of wings.

Turning around, you see Castiel, looking worriedly at you as you try to wipe away the tears left on my cheeks.

"Dean and Sam found the vampire; she was the woman who attacked you. Her victims must have been girls she had seen at the bar, and taken in a rage of anger and jealousy, she killed them." He explains, not immediately asking why you were put that way.

"Great, I would say case closed. Come on it's time to go home." You say then walk to where the Impala is parked, but Castiel rests a hand on your arm and stops you.

"The guys sent me to see if I was okay."

"I'm perfectly fine. That woman did nothing to me while I was at the bar."

"Maybe physically, but I can feel that you are in pain. Can I help you in any way?" The angel asks, and you can't help but melt at his words. You've always had a slight crush on Castiel, ever since the first times he helped you and the brothers, unable to deny that he is a charming man, but since he's been spending more and more time with you the simple attraction has evolved into much deeper feelings. Feelings that you are afraid to externalize to the beautiful angel in front of you.

"Yes quiet Cas, everything is fine. Only you know what they say, the truth hurts." You comment as you give a fake smirk. Castiel looks at you confused as he bends his head slightly to the right.

"What do you mean the truth? What did that woman tell you?" The angel asks, suspecting that there is much more to it than you try to hide.

"Nothing, really, never mind." You repeat, but this time Castiel is not fooled by your matter-of-fact answer, and laying two fingers on your forehead, he sees the events that took place just before: the painful words of that girl and all the sadness you felt at hearing them.

When he pulls away from you, you couldn't tell if the angel is more angry or pained as he looks at you. Quickly and without warning, he wraps his arms around you, and you can almost imagine the feel of his wings wrapped around your body: soft and fragrant, like his clothes.

"Sorry, I know you shouldn't look inside other people's heads, however, you were lying to me and you are hurting, and I couldn't leave you to suffer, but I had to know why you were suffering so." He tries to explain, before holding you tighter in his arms, and moving his head from the crook of your neck so he can look you in the face. "Don't believe a word that woman said. You are the most perfect living being I have ever seen, and believe me I have seen many throughout history, but nothing I have ever known compares to you. If I didn't know what angels are, I would say that you are one, in fact if they asked me I would say that you are my angel." She confesses at the end in a whisper so light that you could swear you were imagining it, but confirming her words are her eyes looking at you with such adoration that you feel you could almost catch fire.

"Cas...I don't know what to say I-"

"Don't say anything then." He tells you, smiling. "For once try to take a compliment without saying anything in return." He continues, and you can't help but blush and lean your forehead against his chest to hide the blush that had appeared on your cheeks.

"In fact maybe you know there is one thing you could say." He says a few seconds later, as you stood in silence for a moment enjoying that moment of calm.

"What?" You ask curiously, as you raise your face to look into his eyes, not realizing that your lips are extremely close.

"You might say yes when I ask you in a little while if you would like to go out with me tomorrow night, to eat at that restaurant you like so much." He proposes, as he looks intensely at your lips and with difficulty pulls away from them to look into your eyes. You can't help but giggle.

"You really do spend too much time with Dean." You comment, shaking your head.

"Maybe, but at least it taught me how to tell the girl I love how I feel." He says, before leaving a kiss near the corner of your mouth and then untying himself from your embrace and walking toward the car, leaving you shocked standing still in the same spot for several minutes.

"Hey, are you okay?" Dean asks you, who without your noticing had arrived next to you. You simply nod. "Well then it's time to go unless you want to have a romantic date with the cop at the station." He comments, winking. You blink and realize that you really need to get moving.

After all, a date tomorrow you already have.

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