#all she did was give a comment about the garden its not that deep

[the-fruit-bandit]

Tbh I'm already sick of all the Nira hate.

This woman canonically raised her family up from the gutters, raised a son to be someone educated and empathetic towards the common people, had the bravery to challenge a decade old dynasty at her very first Renouncment ceremony and to keep questioning the ruling family throughout the Trials to ensure a fair fight for her child.

And yet, people think her some crazy evil witch who wants the throne for herself, even though it was stated several times that's not the case :/

Was she kinda mean to the Earis? Sure, but they aren't a very good person themselves, and they were a bully in the past.

Did she kinda force Zaros into participating in the Trials? Sure, but her reasoning was explained several times after, if she didn't do it then NO ONE would and they'd have to wait who knows how many decades until the next opportunity.

She's really not the monster some of yall make her to be.

[moonlightazriel]

Do you love me? /// Aemond X F!Reader

Summary: Ever since the accident, Aemond has been insecure about his appearance, but things get even worse when he hears those nasty words reach the ears of his future wife.

Warnings: Nothing much, just angst

Word Count: 2,2K

Notes: Okay, I was rewatching HOTD and became obsessed with Aemond again, but the difference is that this time I’m a writer and decided to give it a try on writing for him cuz why not? And yes, it’s based on that lovely scene from Queen Charlotte, who cares?

Main Masterlist

“Perhaps you should not get too close, my lady.” The man behind her warned, but she couldn’t help, her feet carried her closer to the giant animal. Its leathery nose sniffed her scent before the large dragon rested its head on the floor.

“They are fascinating creatures.” The beast’s golden eyes watched her closely as she extended her arm, letting her fingers brush slowly over the dragon’s nose. Vaghar huffed, the warm breath fanning all over her body, and she smiled as the dragon allowed her to continue.

“You think so?” Another voice, deeper and serious, sounded but she didn't bother to turn around, a hushed whisper was shared and the sound of boots sounded against the stones.

“Of course they are. And those afraid of them are fools.” She replied, and a low chuckle sounded, she liked that sound. “My father told me tales about King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, when they did us the honour to visit our family, how those beautiful creatures flew over our home.” She kept rambling. “I have been dreaming with them ever since, being so close to the stars, feeling the breeze in my face, perhaps I might ask my dear husband-to-be for a special ride, if he bothers talking to me, ever.” She turned around, regretting every word that left her lips as Prince Aemond stood before her.

“I am sure he will consider such a request from his future wife.” She felt the heat in her cheeks, slightly embarrassed for what she had said.

“Your Grace.” She bowed to her betrothed, and the Prince gave her a small smile, watching in delight as she rushed out of the dragon’s pit.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

His soon to be wife, was a true beauty, her hair was always falling in curls behind her back, she was always wearing dresses in various shades of blue to honour her house, a true born Tyrell. She had left HighGarden when the Hand suggested that the King should marry her to his second son, to strengthen their alliances, Aemond would do everything to fulfil his duties to the crown. A marriage for allies, never for love.

But as he spotted her walking quietly by her Lord Father’s side as they entered the throne room, he knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to fall in love with her, a kind, well educated and beautiful lady.

She never looked at him with disgust, always seemed rather interested in what he spoke and how he carried himself, he had caught her gaze fixed on him as the two sat by the library to read, more times than he could remember. He knew she didn’t deserve a scarred, one-eyed prince as a husband, and she was too gentle to say so, he knew deep down that she would never love him. And he accepted that, as long as he could call her his wife.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“What is it like, Lidia?” He stopped in his tracks as he heard her sweet, melodic voice coming from the garden.

“What, my lady?” The servant replied and the other woman sighed, if he closed his eye, he could see her blushing, the red tainting her face, until it reached the roots of her beautiful hair.

“The first night after the wedding!” She lowered her voice, and he heard the servant giggle. “You’re married, are you not?”

“I am, my lady. I can assure you that it’s going to be fine, Prince Aemond will take good care of you.” The reply came and he smirked with that.

“But, my lady..” A third feminine voice sounded, one he did not recognize. “Do not forget to ask for him to keep the eyepatch, you will not want to be looking at that deformed face on your wedding night.” The comment was followed by a few women laughing. His heart twisted in his chest as she didn’t say anything.

He was used to the looks, the whispers, the frowns and the ladies in court running away from him, but the idea of her being one of those people, it hurt him deeply. He left without waiting for her reply.

“You should watch your tongue.” Y/N pointed to the lady. “Or else, Vaghar might want something different for dinner, and I heard that the meat from the Stormlands’ is quite good.” She turned her back to the group, marching towards the Keep.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She stood by the door, the fancy nightgown hugged her frame as she shivered in the cold night air. Aemond looked at her, his lilac eye glowing in the dim candle light.

“We do not have to do anything.” He simply stated. Y/N looked at him confused, with her eyebrows knit together in a lovely frown.

“We have to, it is what’s expected from us, Lord husband.” She said, walking closer to where he stood, next to the big bed.

“Duty, right.” It was all that left his mouth for the rest of the night as he laid bare with her, only the eyepatch covering his insecurities, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he touched her with adoration and worshipped her body as he made love to her. But the way she didn’t look at him, how her face would contort in something he didn’t know what it meant, this told him everything he needed to know.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How was it, my lady?” Lidia asked as she brushed through Y/N’s locks.

“I was so scared that I could not even look at him, and Gods help me, I am still not able to walk properly, it was really painful.” She said, looking at the woman.

“It is normal, when you do it again, it will be less and less painful, until all you can feel is the pleasure growing in your belly.” Her toes curled in excitement as she thought of going to bed again with her husband.

But it died as soon as a servant handed her a note, in his fancy handwriting, he stated that the two fulfilled their duties graciously, and now she should go back to her chambers. She felt the tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, what she might’ve done to offend the prince?

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N wandered alone through the halls, it’s been months since she had a proper talk with her husband, he was always too busy to be near her, so she would spend her days alone, reading, embroidering, sometimes alongside her dear sister Helaena, or having tea with the Queen.

It was in one of those afternoons that she felt something was wrong, the warmth in the Keep was too much to handle as she sipped her tea, the Queen was speaking with Helaena about the twins.

“Excuse me, Your Grace…” she said, suddenly feeling everything spin around her.

“Are you okay, sister?” The princess asked, noticing how much paler she looked, and the sweat coating her forehead.

Y/N couldn’t muster a response as the ring in her ears got too much and her body collapsed. She blinked, feeling the fresh air coming from the windows in the Queen’s room. She felt embarrassed as she noticed the Queen, some servants and a Meistre, all of them looking at her with worried eyes.

“Are you feeling well darling?” Queen Alicent asked, squeezing her hand.

“Yes, your Grace, perhaps it was the heat?” She inquired, her eyes landing on the man in front of her.

“I am afraid you are wrong, my Lady. You are with child.” The older woman smiled at her, leaning to hug her. She felt her whole body shaking, a child was a blessing, but how would she tell her husband, who doesn’t even acknowledge her, that he was going to be a father?

“This is great news, I am sure Aemond will be just as happy.” Alicent spoke, getting up and urging everyone to leave the room.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Come in!” The Prince answered, and Y/N pushed his chambers doors open. She gasped a little when he turned to her, she barely got to see him for months, and he was just as handsome as she remembered, this time, the eyepatch was discarded and his scars and the sapphire eye were on full display, he was beautiful. “What are you doing here?” He asked, starting to turn his back to her.

“I am with child.” She blurted and he stopped, his lilac eye looking at her, she walked closer, until she was right in front of him, she grabbed his hand, placing it on her belly. “You are going to be a father.”

“That is great, I am sure the King is very happy.” He said, walking backwards and removing his hand, the smile that tugged at her lips quickly vanished at his reaction.

“What about you? Are you happy, Lord Husband?” She inquired.

“I am thankful that we were able to do our parts in this court.” It was all he said. “I am busy, you should go back to your chambers.” It broke her heart hearing that, when his own was almost bursting out of his chest with happiness. She looked at him incredulously, tears sliding down her pretty face.

“Did I do something to offend you, Your Grace?” The pain was evident in her voice.

“Not at all.” His tone was dismissive.

“Do you love me?” She inquired, stepping closer to him once again.

“What?”

“Do you love me?” She repeated, louder and firmer this time.

“I am trying to protect you.” She looked hurt, and angry.

“Do you love me?”

“I cannot….. This conversation is leading no..” She interrupted him.

“Do you love me?” The question hit him hard, of course he loved her, more than anything, but all he did was out of love for her.

“Y/N, please. Stop!” He begged, she paced around the room, breathing heavily.

“Is it because you do not believe that I could love you?” She fixed her gaze on him once again, tears falling free from her eyes. “I do.” He almost repeated the words to himself, she loved him.

He looked at her without saying a word, not knowing what to even say, but she continued.

“I love you Aemond, in fact, I love you so much that I will do as you wish.” He looked at her confused. “If you do not love me, all you have to say is you do not love me, and I will go. I will go back to my chambers now, I will stop bothering you, I will go back to my life and we can have our separate lives and I will have this baby alone. But first, you have to say that you do not love me!”

She was sobbing, while she hugged her own body, shaking, all the sadness pouring from her soul.

“You have to tell me that I’m utterly alone in this world.”

He looked at her astonished, his heart ripping in half at her confession, how alone and isolated she must’ve felt all these months, he always thought he was doing the right thing, sparing her from having to be seen by his side, his lips parted and the words left his mouth before he could stop himself.

“I am a monster, everyone knows that, I don’t deserve you, you deserve better than this.” He pointed to the scar.

“Do you love me?” She asked again, tired.

“You do not wish a life with me for yourself.” He felt the tears in his own eye. “No one wishes that.”

“Aemond!” She protested. “I will stand with you between the heavens and earth, I will tell you every day that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, that your scar doesn’t scare me, and that I love you just like you are. “Her words were so pure, honest, that his heart jumped in his chest. “Do you love me?” She asked for the last time.

“I love you.” He shouted, so loud that his throat burned. “From the moment I saw you with Vaghar, I have loved you desperately, I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, Y/N. My heart calls your name.”

He couldn’t hold himself anymore, closing the distance between the two, he held her face in his hands, pulling her closer as he kissed her, her lips tasted like salt and cinnamon, and they were so soft against him, she held him too, afraid that he would disappear, that they would go back to that torment.

“I am so sorry for everything, I wanted to be with you, hold you in my arms everyday. But I could not, what they spoke, how they looked at us.” Y/N looked at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying.

“I do not care for any of them. All I care about is you, about us, and the family we have now.” He rested his hand on her belly.

“I heard them talking, the day before our wedding, I thought you agreed with them.” He confessed.

“You what?” She raised an eyebrow. “In fact, my love, after those nasty words about you, I threatened to feed her to Vaghar.” He looked at her, smiling as she traced the scar on his face.

“Perhaps I should take you flying to compensate for the time apart. As I remember how badly you wanted that.” He offered and she smiled brightly at him.

“It will be an honour, my Prince.”

[praxcrown5]

Carstober Prompt 21: Crash

Trigger warning: harassment, attempted suicide

Excerpt from my fanfic. Year is 1937, and Doc's mom, Annette, isn't dealing with life very well.

Annette left home quietly, not even bothering to close the garage door. 

Sam was still asleep after their most recent siring attempt; the act taking a lot more out of him than usual…which was surprising since she was, once again, leaving his side with an empty plasma condenser. 

Ahhh yes, her husband: the largest, strongest truck this side of the Mississippi.  He could carry loads all across the country, but he could never seem to drive one home.

She snarled at her own, bitter wit and coasted to the end of the driveway. 

It was late in the evening, and the moon was just starting to crest the pines.  Despite it being fall, there was a wintery chill in the air.

She took a deep breath, letting the cool air cycle through her TR system.

What now…?  She thought, sadly.  She had already tried talking Sam around to visiting the clinic and, when that didn’t work, bringing up the topic to her in-laws.

After that…the harassment got worse.  Most of the Longhauler women wouldn’t talk to her.  The men were more sympathetic…mostly on account of her being a damn-good mechanic—you didn’t want to offend the person changing out your piston belts, after all.  But, even so, they only made small talk. Her mother-in-law had become especially cruel, gossiping about Annette to anyone who’d listen, slapping Annette with snide, degrading comments when they were alone, introducing Annette at parties and social gatherings as her “barren” daughter-in-law. 

Despite all of this, Annette had tried her best to remain positive.  She forced herself to get up every morning…with no partner to snuggle against, sang to herself at dinner to beat back the oppressive silence of their empty home, cleaned and tended the garden to keep herself busy when she wasn’t working and did her best to smile and give her clients the best automotive care possible…despite hearing them call her things like “gold-digger” behind her boot. 

She’d been maintaining, thanks mostly to her father and brothers.  Her father, especially, did everything that he could to make her feel loved and appreciated…but, ultimately, he couldn’t solve her problems.  He couldn’t make Sam get his siring cable repaired.  He couldn’t stop Claire from spreading gossip to the rest of the townsfolk.  At the end of the day, the best he could do was lean against her and tell her that it would get better. 

Somehow.

Someday.

Tears started pooling in the corner of her eyes.  She had been clinging to this notion, whispering it to herself like a personal mantra whenever doubt began to rear its ugly head. 

It’ll get better.  It’ll get better.  Someday, It’ll get better...

Will it, though?

Annette gritted her teeth and started her engine to try to banish the thought from her mind…but it clung to her like cheap grease.  Will things actually get better? 

Her fuel pump squeezed painfully, fearfully and she gunned her engine, kicking up gravel and dust as she turned out onto the road, heading south, flicking on her headlights only as an afterthought.

Annette and Sam lived in a large, converted barn about fifteen minutes from town.  As she sped down the old logging road, the terrain grew more rugged, with tall black pine and oak replacing the smaller saplings from the reclaimed Dawson Woods.  The road began to switchback, ducking around steep exposures of sedimentary rock, but always gaining in elevation.

She was driving more recklessly than she probably should have been…but she couldn’t help it.

For years she had successfully managed use the “it’ll get better” mantra as a wall to block out any thoughts that might argue otherwise.  Working long hours at the shop and taking on extra work from the clinic helped to reinforce it. 

And up until tonight, the integrity of said wall had never been undermined.

Annette reached the top of a prominent, east-west trending hill that the locals called Oracle ridge and paused to catch her breath.

You’re not sure…are you?

Annette closed her eyes, fighting back tears.

Sam was only home for a week this time, so Annette wasn’t expecting much, surely not another siring attempt.  But…he offered…because he knew that having a child meant the world to his wife, and he was willing to keep trying in the hopes that they’d somehow be successful.  It was the first time in their two years of marriage that he’d done something like that, made an effort to show her that he cared, a rare expression of vulnerability when he had always been forced to be “strong” and “fearless.” She eagerly accepted his offer, and as they made love, the hope that she saw in his eyes and the compassion that she felt in his touch rejuvenated her, made her think that there was still a chance.  That the planets and the stars would align just for them and they could have their happy ending. 

And then she waited. Hours and hours of waiting with giddy anticipation, faithfully hoping for a factory notification.

She was going to be a mother! It was going to happen this time!

But…it didn’t. 

And, for the first time in her life, the voices on the other side of the wall began to make themselves known, hissing and spitting at her through a spiderweb of newly formed cracks.

Wiper fluid was leaking freely down her fenders and her breath came in ragged sobs. 

It’s not going to get better.

Annette shook her front end, trying to dislodge the thought.

It’s NOT going to get better.

Her eyes shot open and she revved her engine.  It will!  It HAS to! 

Sam won’t go to the doctor.  His parents won’t force him to go because they believe that you and your father are lying to them.  So, logically, every future siring attempt will fail…and your life will always be just miserable as it is at present.  It’s an exercise in futility if there ever was one.

No… No it’s not… Annette’s throat constricted

It’s hopeless.

Annette froze. 

Hopeless.

The wall shattered.  All the rogue thoughts that she’d tried to keep bottled up broke free and surged through her brain with the force of a tidal wave. 

If nothing is going to change, what’s the point in trying?  In caring?  You care so much about other people…but they don’t seem to care much for you, do they?

Panicking, Annette gunned her engine and tore down the ridge.  Her model wasn’t particularly fast on account of its weight, but the steep slope combined with her Cadillac standard V8 made sure that when she hit the first switchback, her tires had to really scrabble for traction.  She cleared the curve, but just barely. 

You’re pathetic.  A waste of metal desperately clinging to false hopes and yearning for a life that you’ll never have.

The ghostly outlines of trees blurred in her peripheral vision.  Another switchback ahead, not as sharp as the first one, but even so she could feel the literal edge of the road under her rear tires, the loose scree falling away to tumble down into the river below.  

Really, is running all you can do? 

Her eyes narrowed.  Another switchback.  Another close call, though this one came with a jolt of pain and a loud snap as she clipped a rock with her left back tire.  The snap must have been her coil spring, because from that moment onward, her body seemed to list to that side and she’d bottom out on every dip and rise in the road. 

A Sudden dip.  Something large and sharp caught her undercarriage and tore the metal; the pain made her eyes water, but rather than slow down, she gunned it harder.  Red line.  Her engine was straining under the stress, and she was starting to feel nauseous as the hot metal began to effect nearby systems.

Annette, you’re a coward.  You always have been.  You could have stood up to your in-laws, but instead you kept your chassis low.  You’re pathetic.  So pathetic, that your family just stood by in silence while you suffered.

No!  My father stood up for me!

Your father stood up for the Glenrunner name.  Not you.

Annette counter steered the last curve, almost skidding into the river, but her flattening left rear tire helped keep her on the road.  There was another sharp pain, this time further up into the axle; she could feel hydraulic fluid running down the inside of the tire.

She was on a straightaway, now, heading for Timing-Belt Bridge. There was a sharp turn on the other side, the sort of turn you had to make at less than twenty miles per hour, otherwise you’d end up hitting a wall of limestone.

Time seemed to slow as a deadly realization sunk its claws into her brain.

By the time her tires tore into the concrete of the bridge, she had reached sixty miles per hour.  Even with her left rear tire about to give out, she would still be doing sixty as she hit the curve on the other side. 

No. More. Pain.

Her engine screamed.  Her vision was blacking out and she was starting to taste oil and other vital fluids in her mouth… 

And then…the lights.  Right in front of her.  Head-on.

Instinct kicked in.  She slammed on her brakes, but her momentum kept her going forward.

[breadvidence]

Okay finally getting around to the prompting:

I think about Valjean/Myriel a lot, but I can’t quite get it to work, and I also get overwhelmed thinking about the amount of work it would take to somehow wrangle that into a healthy (even just for LM/canon era standards) power dynamic, and also the religious aspects, and—

Maybe if you go to the other extreme and write <1000k in isolation, you can get around that? (… and maybe I should also give myself permission to do that, tbh)

(I wouldn’t judge if someone did write the pairing with a fucked up dynamic, but I don’t personally want to read that with this pairing.)

As with anything else I prompt: brick or whatever adaptation is fine, canon or modern era is fine, I trust your Skills! Only request is Not Excessively Sad

((You troublemaker! This was never gonna be only 1k. I came—closer than far?))

Late in the year 1817, a letter was delivered to the house of the Bishop of Digne in the evening, which his sister read to him, his eyes having already begun their decline, such that not two days prior while trying to decipher a note under uncertain candlelight he was heard to comment to the housekeeper, madam, it is even bets whether it’s games [jeux] on the page and eyes [yeux] in my head or the opposite. 

The letter originated with a woman who made her home in Étaples—his connection with whom might have caused them some embarrassment in their youth, but which had become in the passage of fifty years quite tender—and detailed the conduct of a local businessman, charitable, of great faithfulness, with a certain skittishness about women, which limited his use to her, and to her pet causes, which proved most unfortunate, the businessman's pockets being very deep, to have sewn up their mouths against her elegant little fingers. Her attempts to leverage her local men to confer with the fellow had proved fruitless. Would sweet Myriel perhaps exert himself, as being both impressively holy for the good man’s sake and coltishly free with women on her behalf, in extending the influence of the crook?

He wrote to Madeleine, and received back in short order a letter of which his sister commented, This fellow has a palsy, I think. Look how the trembling of his hand shows in his writing. For all its brevity, it struck him with a humbleness sweet and unaffected, a sincerity of thanks, and he dictated to his sister a response which redoubled the respect shown to him, though the letter ended with Madeleine urging Monseigneur, you need not concern yourself with the pleasantries you opened your letter with, which are meant for someone much different than this simple man, who is pleased simply to be called ‘monsieur’, and given direct instruction, as a good farmer might direct his day-laborer in the field, who needs wisdom to know where the soil should be amended, or tilled, or left to rest, or planted with cover, or browsed over by the livestock. 

The next day, with a very bright sun and clear skies to aid him, Myriel looked over the letter in the garden, and saw what Baptistine politely declined to describe: that, in addition to the wavering of his pen, this Madeleine wrote with the large and uneven hand of a man come to literacy late in life, with an uncertain orthography to match. He recognized by some of those peculiarities that the author spoke with a Brie accent, of the rural type. Two years near after that moment of contemplation, he asked Baptistine to find the first letter from Madeleine in his effects, and had it folded, and put into a kind of medallion, which he wore about his neck. She did not question this; she did not question her brother much; and in any case, she had read two years of many letters aloud, and taken in dictation her brother’s half of the correspondence.

She asked, once, Would you not caution M. Madeleine against committing such passion to the page?, in a tone of mercy, as the untouched address those afflicted by a great and hideous illness. 

In the matter of schools for little children I think him quite incorrigible, he replied, for he wishes he had his own children, and must find some outlet. Tell him, will you, that I sign this letter with a kiss—and bring it to me, that I might not make a liar of myself. 

Madame Magloire, much laid up in those days with gout, said from her warm corner by the fire, She means the talk of embracing in dreams, monseigneur, with the strong loins pressing close and such.

He cannot help, said Myriel, having dreams, or loins.

One matter created obscurity in the correspondence, and for Myriel, doubt: Madeleine could not be found in Montreuil-sur-Mer at those times when the Bishop of Digne might have taken leave of his duties to visit. These unhappy coincidences, the urgent nature of what called him away in each instance, did not convince—but the anguish expressed over the unavoidable separation did so. This obscurity became illuminated, and the shadowy worm within it therefore prompted into pupation as when Spring reminds what crawls of its potential for wings, in the year 1821, when Myriel dictated, The doctor here says I would be quite better served at lower elevation, where it is less cold in winters. 

Come, then, Madeleine returned. Baptistine apostrophized on this, He is very bold in tone, but—poor, darling man—his hand shakes worse now than it did even at the start. 

On his arrival in Montreuil-sur-Mer, helped down from the diligence, Myriel understood at once: he had met Madeleine before, under circumstances that Madeleine did not wish known, for he had set aside his old cassock for a modest gentleman’s outfit, and had never described his countenance, but quicker than Baptistine could have made a sign, there came a glad cry of greeting, stifled too late, and when he opened his arms, a close embrace. His hands, which sometimes grew troubled with heat and soreness, were kind to him that day: he clutched at strong shoulders, unashamed of what another man might call weakness of the knees, and he knew to be the dizzy transportation of love. Where before did this strong body present itself to him? He cared not, in the moment, though his agile mind would seize upon the mystery again.

They toured the town, Myriel’s hand in the crook of Madeleine’s elbow to guide him, and his voice to keep him here, a puddle—here, a child, oh, let me give him a coin, a moment, monsieur—and in the space between their bodies a heat that decades’ clerical chastity on the one hand and a lifetime of abnegation on the other could not suffice to snuff. Madeleine’s voice, low and sweet, grew rough in its weariness, unused to so much exercise, and persisted, and he said of himself, I am sorry, monseigneur, that you cannot see the smile that I wear for you, which has so shocked Widow Firmin. There is no sadness in it.

Myriel asked of him, Are we alone?

But for your sister, Madeleine returned, cautious.

And Myriel reached out, and traced his lips, and said, You have lied to me. There’s some sadness yet. It is very precious to me, to feel you, but where does this sorrow come from?

Madeleine kissed the fingertips offered to him, and did not answer, but directed their attention to some other matter, the school for the children of abandoned women, which had been Myriel’s first influence upon him, through the request of the friend in Étaples. He had detailed before by letter the story of a factory woman fallen far by his inattentiveness, his guilts moderated by Myriel’s response, and now said shyly that he would like to introduce them, Fantine being dear to him as a daughter might be, and her little girl—he spoke of the child with awe, like a mother with a newborn in her arms. An excellent distraction, for love finds joy in the loves of the one whom it adores.

Not until night fell, and Myriel had been given a bed all heaped with blankets and unwonted luxuries to which he submitted with fond grace, did the final banishment of doubt come. He said to the near-silent shadow: “I hear you, monsieur. A blind man’s ears ought to be pointed, to warn everyone of their sharpness.”

“The moon shone on you thus before,” Madeleine replied, in a rough Brie peasant’s tones, “but this is not how my body urged me to touch you, then.”

Myriel felt breath upon his forehead, and then the press of lips, soft and firm. Madeleine was not a man who hesitated, when he had finished with doubting.

Heat on his cheek, the words, “I still have your silver, monseigneur.” 

“Sit beside me, my heart,” replied Myriel, who understood at last which sin his lover feared, and that it was not he, and forgave him his hesitations, his imperfect understandings, his haltings—of course; for they were both of them men, no more, and no less.

“I feel I should kneel,” Jean Valjean replied, in a tone of confusion. “Once, I would have knelt.” Instead, he sat, and reached out his hand to rest over a heart that beat steady and sure and quickening. As we draw breath to speak of what followed, we hear in our ears, gentle, a voice behind which is the rustle of wings, hush, that bids us to silence.

[aspenonpawzzz]

ALL OF MY AU'S

Phantom of bonesborough (PoBb): talk alot Abt this au, fiction-kin-type is from here, werewolf hunter. I talk Abt it here @phantom-w0lfbane

Wispers on the wind (Wotw) Au: the duology

A whole garden of flowers (ahgof) [WIP]: 12 years pre-canon, hunter disapeared, and was replaced with Maple, a omni-genderfluid, "system" (explained in brother au) pan orientied aroace nerd grimwalker. maple is the grimwalker that phillip likes the most, least ab#used and is the most Phillip (due to hair color) looking. instead of becoming the Golden Guard, Philips made them the Platinum Peacemaker. Phillips gave it a heart transplant, allowing them to do some magic, but she can't do some of the more draining/ diffcult spells. he looks like a (depending on the day) andro, masc, fem, or all/none mix of hunter, Phillip, and @catboymoments huntlow child. tracks IF she went to hexside/ special interests are oracle, illusions, and poitions. he is 15 physically, tho she was "born" Abt 6 months after hunter dissperred. instead of a wolves and cardinals for hunter, foxes and starlings are maples symbols. Platinum peacemaker outfit is a gender neutral GG out fit, with black inplace of white, deep violet =yellow, gold= dark silver. instead of a barn-owl mask, smybolising wisdom, helpfulness, and death of the unworthy, the PP( noo) mask is a phoenix, which smybolises rebirth, second chances, the afterlife.

My name carved in a rock (mncir)[WIP]: Ahgof's brother story, about this Au's hunter, a demiace biro boyfreak he/it (called graves [gray for short] in this) who 12 years pre-canon was "kidnapped" by Darius, but lost, and fell into a titans blood pool, entering the inbetween, and meeting collector. Graves learned many wittabane and Phillip things, and is far more unhinged than canon. he is still 16, but far less mentally stable. it watches luz and the gang, and TRIES to help (cause he has conversed with kings dad before like 3 times) out giving hints, using the wind. oh did I forget to mention that it can control the wind in this AU? yeah, so he uses that to push importiant papers toward luz, whispers things in the gangs ears (sound like that little voice in ur head but its the wind saying it but not out loud? that makes sense?). the main hexsquad can kinda hear it, but not really. maple however, being a grimwalker so having a intamite relationship with death, hears it quite well! maple mistakes this as a system, and gray plays along. it meets luz when she enters the inbetween in "yesterdays lie", and luz pulls him out, ignoring its demands to stay. he stays tho, and after a little bit freaks cause he's like "oh shit maple " and maple has not heard for their head mate gray in a minute. graves doesn't spoil the whole "phillip is Belos" stuff tho.

deviltown (syshun)[WIP]:

ok this is a stupid self-indulgent au where hunter is the Evenader system with 3 alters. everything happens like canon, but system style.

Flint: "Hunter". he/they. biromantic demisexual. Trans demiboy. mostly canon. front-sticky, host/core.

Xander: "The GG incarnate." it/its, doesn't mind he/him tho. caedo-triple a battery. (aroace, Agender). standoffish, robotic, jumpy. trauma holder/ protector

Juniper: "Me but a head mate for a hunter" they/it, red fox alterhuman. apothisexual, arospike. sarcastic, aloof, wild-card. no one knows. nobody understands juniper.

oh happy day (ohd) [WIP]:

s3 happen, but flapjack lived.thats it. that's the whole au.

Partners in Crime(PiC) [irl au, I live in this one kinda]

my world. i live in this universe lol yes I am insane inside my head is a house ? building? thing that's cool and connected to The Inbetween.

I live there with PiC phantom (from PoBb) because he was a OC that got sentient. I do stuff like see universes. I "copy" peoples au OCs and theses ones know Abt my life. I am a chaotic entity that sarcastically comments on hunter AUs lives because I am the titan and the archivists combined. phantom and I have an almost Luz and hunter pre-kings tide relationship. I made this because the brainrot is too strong and I am a INTJ with a hero/god complex.

Wolf Warren (ww) [Oc AU]

An owl house swap AU in which all of my OCs are in their respective places (my gg oc=hunter, exc)

Fox Fort (FF) [swap au]

a swap AU with my main (insert character) AU eg. phantom for Hunter.

WILL ADD MORE WHEN MORE COME!

[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 23: Roots

The first few months after she lost Pedro were especially hard for Alma. Not that it was ever easy, per se, but she could barely function at the beginning. Somehow she got through the winter. Her babies grew, the seasons changed. When spring came, she decided to plant a tree.

She couldn’t exactly point to a reason why. It was springtime and she wanted to mark the start of a new season with new life. She wanted something to commemorate their survival, to show their resilience could stand the test of time. She wanted something permanent in her life; something strong that would live on after her and her children and her children’s children. A tree with roots that would grow large and keep the tree stable. Roots like the ones she was hoping to establish here. Roots to replace the ones so cruelly torn up by la violencia. The symbolism was nice and easily visible. Honestly, Alma was awful with plants, but she figured she could learn. Trees didn’t require much from her. If only Pedro was still here! He was the one with the green thumb.

Okay fine. She planted the tree to feel close to Pedro. When she felt the earth pass through her fingers, it was almost as if he were lacing his fingers through hers. When she patted down the dirt over the seed, it was as if he were patting her back to comfort her. Watering the seed was like a release of all the tears she had held back. She was no good at this; she lacked the patience. Pedro was the patient one who could nurture plants and coax out unexpected beauty. But she did her best. She took care of her little tree, watching it go from seedling to a strong tree, towering over them all, its roots deep and spread wide in the ground.

Every day she would check on it and see if it needed anything. Sometimes it needed water. Even after Pepa had gotten her gift, Alma had refused to use it to care for the tree. It was private. Not to be shared with anyone.

Eventually, she got the hang of it. Her tree grew, and she expanded her botanical collection to include flowers. Those she freely shared. Alma’s penchant for plants became well known in town.

One day, Alma was walking through her garden, checking on her plants and her tree, when she saw Isabela watching her shyly from the side of the house.

“Isabela.” Alma set down her watering can. “What a nice surprise.”

“Hola, abuela.” Isabela gave a tentative wave. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking care of my plants,” Alma answered.

Isabela’s dark eyes gleamed, her curiosity piqued. “Can I watch?”

“Claro que sí, mija.” Alma patted the earth next to her. “Come, sit.”

Isabela sat down next to her. “Those flowers are so pretty,” she commented. “I bet it’s very hard to take care of them.”

Alma considered the point. It certainly had been hard in the beginning, but she learned over time. “It’s easier than you think, Isa. All you have to do is make sure that you give them water and sun so they can grow.”

Isabela frowned. “What about food? How do they grow without food?”

Alma chuckled. “Plants make their own food. They use the sun and the soil to make their own food and grow.”

Isabela made a face. “The soil?” She asked skeptically.

Alma nodded. “They take the good things from the ground with their roots and use those things to grow.” Alma held up a little seedling she was about to plant in the ground. “See its roots?” She pointed to the fledgling web of roots stemming off the plant. “They bring the good things to the plant. This plant has small roots, but when it grows, its roots will too. The bigger the roots, the stronger and healthier the plant will be.” Instinctively, she glanced over at her tree, giving it a fond smile.

Isabela followed her gaze. “Are trees plants too?”

Alma laughed. “Yes they are.”

Isabela’s eyes grew wide. “Wow…that’s a big plant.”

“It sure is.” Alma’s eyes crinkled around the corners. “It’s had a lot of time to grow.”

“How old is it?”

“How old do you think it is?”

Isabela screwed up her features in thought. “A hundred years old!”

“Not quite.” Alma stifled another laugh. “It’s about 32 years old.”

“Oh.” Isabela nodded solemnly. “Isn’t that the same age as mamá?”

The child was astute. “Yes it is.”

“But it’s so much taller than her.” Isabela looked up in awe. “Because it has big roots to feed it, right abuela?”

“Right.” Its roots had spread under the soil into an intricate network, growing wide and drawing upon the earth to nurture the tree and make it strong and stable. Now it was immovable, practically impervious to damage.

“We should have roots too,” Isabela declared. “It sounds way easier than eating.”

“I don’t think your mamá would appreciate that,” Alma teased, wiping some dirt on Isabela’s nose. “You know how hard she works to cook for you.”

Isabela wrinkled her nose, rubbing away the dirt with her palm. “I know, abuela, but I’m not always hungry.

“You have to eat to grow, just like the tree. You just use your mouth instead.”

Isabela rolled her eyes, but didn’t press the issue. “So what are you doing now?”

“I’m planting these little flowers. They needed to be inside first and now I can plant them outside to grow bigger.”

“Can I help?” Isabela asked eagerly.

“Of course. You can help me dig holes to place the roots.”

Isabela’s chubby fingers scraped away the dirt, leaving dirty crescents under her nails. “Like this?”

“You can use a shovel, mi vida.”

“I don’t want to. It’s more fun this way.”

Alma’s laugh rang out around them. Pedro had thought so too. Perhaps someone in the family would take after him. “I’m sure it is. Just make sure you wash your hands when we go inside.”

“Okaaay.” Isabela whined. She focused intently on her task. “Are these flowers going to grow as big as the tree?”

“I don’t think so. They’re not the same kind of plant. They’ll be smaller but they’ll have lots of bright colors.”

“I like bright colors.” Isabela smiled, patting down the dirt lovingly around a seedling.

They finished up together. Isabela was surprisingly helpful, taking to gardening like she’d been born for it. As they stood to go inside, Isabela addressed the plants. “Bye bye, plants. Make sure you eat with your roots so you can grow big and strong.”

Alma giggled at the thought. “I’m sure they will, now that you reminded them.” She threw one last look at her tree, which had been growing here for over thirty years, just like their family. Like the tree, they had strengthened and grown over the years, using the good in their surroundings to heal themselves.

They had strong roots too.

[georgette-mademoiselle]

Mod: (( what Georgette first thought of the clones when she first meet them))

hantengu never really mentioned them to georgie it wasnt until she decided to join him in one mission where they then all appeared.

When she first met sekido that grimace glare of rage was enough to not want go go near him for a good while

Aizetsu would be the very first clone shed get along with the most especially since they both share in common there sadness but georgette tends to keep that side of her closed of limits or so she trys

To georgie aizetsu was somone that always kept more to themselves and not talk much he was always gazing out the window almost as if lost in thought he looked so peaceful. And thus she walked over and tried to make conversation with him even though she was shy and didnt really know what to say worried he would just find her annoying or bothersome but she managed to converse of him about something hed be interested in like how long does he train with his spear to if he gets along with the clones well. Since then theyve been close.

The second clone she would get along would be urogi and at first she was spooked alot by him because everytime he came flying to her to greet her its as if he was about to grab her by his talons and drag her to the air and throw her like an eagle hunting for prey nearly giving her a heart attack. She found him to be cute with all his joyus demeanor yet on edge but one day during his lookout session while flying she got the idea maybe she could bond with him by flying with him to. So as if she where summoning her sycthe through her back she used flesh manipulation to create them as wings and flew of. This surprised urogi as he had never seen her do this nor any of the other clones had. she would spooked him as he did to her but then laughed finding it amusing that she managed to be an equal at bieng playful.

The third would be karaku and my god did she not like him at first his constant teasing and flirty comments combined with his mischievous and carless nature to bring her down nearly wanted pull her own eye sockets out. At first she wouldn't say anything until he kept poking the bear and one day she just turned grabbed his uchiwa and smacked it across his face sending him miles away squashed like mosquito. He returns a couple minutes later to go. " WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!!??" Then she would walk away and only give him the finger "🖕" he would not let that slide and came up to her grabbing her wrist tightly until she apologized and then she came up with an idea and that was to pull him foward as he was still gripping onto her and gave him a surprise kiss on his lips the immediate shock on his face was enough to let her go and run back to his room it was then she giggled and realized perhaps teasing him back wouldnt be such a bad idea after all. Since then she went from not liking him to having a very deep soft spot for karaku especially since hes the clone of pleasure himself she decided not to take anything personal anymore. There always teasing or being playful with each other now a days always trying to outreact one another.

And then sekido...as stated his rage on his look was enough to never wanting to be near him always giving him space rarely wanting to be in a room with him especially the things shed witnessed what the clones go through on a daily basis with him. But at times she had to intervine whenever an argument got bad with one of the clones or when he was about to throw a punch. It was hard at first his words where blunt and harsh for her to take sometimes and then one day when she was about to head out into the porch he was already there looking frustrated yet calm as he stared into the rose garden. But just as soon as georgie could go back inside he turned and signaled her to sit with him. She blinked this was the first gesture of something kind hes ever done to her so she sat with him and at first it was just silent until she spoke " e-erm...d-do you also like roses?...'" what a stupid question she thought no way hed be interested in something like that " only the thorns..." Why thorns she thought? It was silent again until she spoke again " you like the thorns because they perhaps represent strong will and protection?" Sekido nods finally she found something to bond over with him and thats how they spend all night together talking about such topics until they had to go inside before the sun sets. If the first time went well could the second time be the same? The answer yes and no it seemed to her that sekido tend to show his soft side more when they where alone only this was because shed learned that the others would make fun of him for it if they ever saw him this way. The next day she would talk to sekido about offering some kind of therapy session for him something to help distract him so the anger could cool down he scoffed at this idea saying he didnt need to be coddled or be treated as if he was weak she assured him that's not the intention that she only wants for him to feel calm and not be a danger for himself and everyone in the household so he finally gave in in these sessions with her and ever since then there relationship has gone from friendship to something more romantic.

She loves these clones equally but sekido has and always will be her favorite

She rarley sees zohakuten and when she does he says nothing but horrible things to her and wishes she never stayed with the others. Despite all this she hopes that one day just once that he would view her as his adopted mother.

Dividers by @/elryisia

[lexa-griffins]

Quiet, shy Lexa uses Halloween as an excuse to finally come out of her shell and wear a slutty costume to a party where she meets Clarke

Lexa has been avoiding parties since freshman year of college. She finds no value to dancing drunk people grinding on each other as they try to get lucky. Not to mention the hallowen version of that, a thin excuse to wear as little as possible and have it be socially acceptable, all to have sex with someone you night not even recognize the next day.

And yet, here she is, standing at the doorstep of the biggest mixed frat on campus, wearing what might be the sluttiest woodland fairy costume she could have find.

Its her last year of college, fuck it!

She wanders for a good hour and, as she suspected, she absolutely hates it here. She has swatted about four hands away from her ass and has had one very friendly conversation with a girl suddenly turn into a near fingering ride she did not sign up for.

She's outside by the bushes, questioning if she should leave or not after she finishes her drink when someone sneaks up behind her.

"Not many bushes for the garden fairy to hang out by inside?" The voice is right by her hear and makes Lexa startle, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you there."

Lexa turns to face Clarke Griffin. Fratgirl extraordinaire, she is also a senior and president of the frat. They have barely spoken despite sharing many classes and being dorm neighbors for a whole year. Lexa finds her beyond hot, sparkling blue eyes and an easy smile. And right now she wears a firefighter costume with a simple black bikini top covering her chest, contrasting with the yellow baggy pants and helmet on her head. Despite the softness of her stomach Lexa has seen her at the gym and knows there is a hardness below it.

"Shouldn't you be inside entertaining guests." Lexa comments, motioning inside where the music is booming.

Loud cheering comes from inside as the vague image of someone being given a lapdance can be seen.

"They seem plenty entertainted to me." Clarke smiles, "you however do not. I dont think ive ever seen you at one of these."

Lexa shakes her head with a closed smile, "Not really my thing."

"And yet here you are. Looking really good if I may add." Her words slur just a bit and Lexa can tell she is a few drops past drunk.

"Thank you. You look..." Lexa tries to think of a word that isnt /sexy/ or /hot/, "very authentic too."

Clarke flashes her a bright smile at that and Lexa can feel her legs shake and her heart beating faster.

"Thanks! You're Lexa right?"

Lexa nods, her smile growing slightly bigger at the fact Clarke knows her name.

"Im Clarke." The girl introduces herself and Lexa has to hold back a chuckle. Who /doesn't/ know who Clarke is.

"I know who you are Clarke, everyone does."

Clarke seems almost bashful at this, bringing her hand to sctrach the back of her head, "eh, I mean you always seemed to not really care who i was so I thought id introduce myself."

Lexa's heart flutters again but she says nothing.

"So why did you decide to come this time?"

Lexa shrugs "its our last year of college and I thought I might as well pretend I had some fun. Even if I'd rather stay behind this bush all night than go back inside.

Clarke chuckles, a low and deep chuckle that makes Lexa feel something tingle between her legs.

They stare at each other for a minute, and Lexa is hyper aware of Clarke eyeing her costume - or lack the off - fully. She has to admit it looks great on her. The fake leaves that make up the bra give her a wonderful lift and the skirt in so short it could classify as a belt. She made a point of adding some glitter to her skin that shines now underneath the low light of the patio.

"That costume looks so fucking good on you." Clarke comments once more, eyes hodded as she stares at Lexa's body.

"Youre drunk." Lexa states although she cant deny how Clarke's stare is affecting her.

"So are you. Your words are more loose, youre ususally so uptight when you talk."

Lexa stares down at her cup, already empty. Maybe she has had one too many.

When she looks back up, Clarke is right in front of her, her chest touching her. Lexa closes her legs firmly, feeling herself growing wetter. She shouldnt.

"You're so hot. The beautiful kind of hot."

Suddenly Lexa feels something poke her. Looking down, she can see Clarke's pants have become a tent

"Clarke...."

She can feels Clarke's breath on her face, her hand on her hip. Their lips inches away.

"Tell me to stop and I will." Clarke whispers.

Lexa closes the gap.

She feels so fucking free right now.

She throws her arms around Clarke, pulling her closer to her. Almost immediately Clarke's hands find her ass, using it as leverage to hold Lexa up into her arms.

"Fuck, I knew you were strong." Lexa moans as she wraps her legs around Clarke's waist.

Clarke chuckles, cocky, before slamming their lips together once more.

"Wanna see strong?" Clarke asks with a smirk and Lexa nods rapidly. Quickly the shorts she wore below her skirt are gone, her wet cunt bare to the autumn air. The sound of clothings hitting the floor follow it and she feels Clarke's hard cock against her.

"Take a deep breath my little fairy, im gonna make you soar."

The colors of the lights coming from inside the house all blur into one as Clarke slams her dick inside of Lexa repeatedly, the shorter girl somehow able to move her hips upwards and she moves Lexa up and down on her dick.

Its sloppy and fast but the thrill of being sressed up and being a bush while a party happens so close by is enough excitment to leave Lexa close to the edge rather fast.

"Ah, Clarke, im gonna cum!" Lexa moans in Clarke's ear, probably louder than she should have, but the loud music muffles her moans.

"Fuck, me too baby, im so close."

With one last thrust Clarke buries herself inside of Lexa fully, cumming hard inside. Lexa locks her legs with as much strength as she can manage around Clarke's waist, bringing them impossible close and sending Lexa over the edge.

"Clarke? You're here?!" The sudden voice alerts the two girls someone is close. Without much time to react, Lexa hops off Clarke in search of her shorts. She slides them on, realizing just as they are in place she is still filled with Clarke's cum. Shit.

"Oh, there you are." It's Octavia, one of Clarke's frat friends, "who's this?"

Lexa looks up to see Clarke fully dressed as if nothing had happened while Lexa shifts on her feet, feeling Clarke's cum drip on to her shorts. Fuck.

"Oh this is Lexa, we have a few classes together." Clarke says casually, "She was about to head out so I was just saying bye to her."

Lexa nods at Clarke's excuse, glad she's giving her an outing given her... state.

"Yeah, sorry. These just arent really my thing." Lexa apologizes, voice somehow steady.

After some quick goodbyes, Clarke accompanies Lexa to the front. As Lexa gives her a polite goodbye, Clarke grabs her hand, forcing Lexa to turn around. They are once again face to face.

With a roll of eyes and a smile, Lexa closes the gap between them again.

"Dont be stranger." Clarke whispers as they pull away, a hand finding Lexa's core from behind and pressing on it, feeling the wetness she created gather between her legs.

Lexa moans softly before pulling away with a shy smile.

"I'll see you Clarke."

She still doesnt like frat parties. But oh doesnt she looove that frat girl.

[seigephoenix]

Kinktober 2024: Choking

Almost at an end! 3 more days left! Then I shall be insufferable as Veilguard comes out! Also as a note, this relationship is not healthy and is toxic to its core. It's not supposed to be portrayed healthy at all and both know it. They know it isn't healthy but still make active, consenting choices to be in it.

Ship: Uldren Sov/Selene Corinnj Content Warning: choking, p in v, toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship Length: 2.1k

Uldren grasped his chin while studying maps of the Cosmodrome.  Jolyon stood with him as they debated about the best way to go about extracting an artifact that would help pinpoint the Black Garden.  Jolyon hated that Uldren was so obsessed with the place, he was even ignoring his own sister’s warning about looking into things.

“It’s too quiet.  That means Selene hasn’t been by lately,” Jolyon commented just as the doors slid open.

“Don’t rejoice too hard there Jolyon, sir.”  The slow drag of the word grated his nerves.  Both men turned and froze in their tracks as Selene sauntered in the room.  Royal blue shimmering fabric clung to her curves, pooling in a deep neckline that showed off her ample assets.  Jolyon wasn’t exactly sure how the hell the dress was being held up, probably through prayers.  She walked towards them and the dress slid away from her thighs clear up to the curve of her hips.  Selene paused next to the desk, keeping one gloved hand resting on her hip.

“What the hell are you wearing Corinnj!?” Jolyon demanded only to get her scoff in answer and a dismissive wave towards him.  “Don’t dismiss me like that!”

“I’m here to inform you that I will not be joining your little push into the Cosmodrome.  I’ve got a mission of my own,” she said and held out a wig with curling midnight locks.

“Of course my sister sends you on a mission when I’m one step closer to getting the relic,” Uldren complained but Selene shrugged.

“Sorry Your Highness, but the queen’s orders take precedence over yours.”  She bent over and Jolyon hurriedly covered his eyes while Uldren’s eyes zeroed in on her cleavage.  She settled the wig over her hair and strategically placed some curls bouncing over her tits.

“How is it possible that your breasts didn’t fall out?” Uldren asked as he leaned closer to examine the dress.  Selene scoffed and pushed his face away from her.

“As if I’ll give away trade secrets.  Anyway, you two are on your own tonight.  I’ll see you later.” Selene spun on her heel towards the door.

“You sure you can pull off a mission with that attitude?” Jolyon sneered and his jaw dropped as her entire demeanor changed.  Gone was the sarcastic soldier that would sooner punch you than answer a question, and in her place was some sultry siren.  She blew them a kiss and saucy wink before the door slid closed behind her.

“We’re going to that party,” Uldren said as Jolyon let out the most exasperated sound he could manage.  “What?”

“You’re chasing after Selene, hasn’t she already been in your bed once?” Jolyon asked as he pointed at the door.  Uldren thought back to that weekend and heat clenched in his belly.  They’d been trapped by a storm and that night still haunted his dreams.  She’d made him crave her and he hated that he did.  No doubt that was Mara’s plan, and it galled him to fall in line with it.

“I want to see who she’s eliminating tonight.  Perhaps we can mess up the mission,” Uldren said.

“And get a favor from Selene if we confess to accidentally stumbling upon her mission, thus saving her from the queen’s Wrath?”  Uldren nodded and Jolyon gleefully rubbed his hands together.  Sjur gave them the information they needed and off they went.

“This just got more entertaining,” Mara said after Sjur told her the men took the bait.

Gala for the Awoken nobility

Selene looked around at the party and spotted her quarry early, and that unsettled her.  He was usually late to these kinds of things, but was on time that night?  She slipped into the bathroom and adjusted her dress, making sure her chest was on a beautiful display.  The aura patterns flickered over her skin and she’d added a dash of body glitter.  A dash of body glitter that degraded with the smallest hint of moisture and functioned as a paralytic while also being undetectable in autopsies.  Selene had built up quite the resistance to it, which allowed her to use it in missions, but it also helped she had a thin layer of transparent silicone under it.  After a last minute check of herself in the bathroom, Selene made her rounds in the foyer.

“Did you see?  The prince is here,” one woman whispered to Selene.  Selene felt her heart lodge in her throat.  What?  “Maybe I can get his attention.”

“Oh please, you know Corinnj holds his attention these days.  The queen’s little whore would be the one he had his eye on.”  Selene kept the smirk off her face at the sneering comments.  She’d heard worse and they weren’t too far off.  Though she only slept with her marks if she had to.

“You know if you say that Sjur will punish you!” Another woman hissed in worry as her eyes darted around the foyer.  The second one scoffed.

“I’m not worried about that, so long as the queen doesn’t order it, you’re safe.”  She waved dismissively again and watched Uldren and Jolyon make their way around the small room.

“What about you?  Are you worried about Corinnj?  Those perky tits of yours won’t get you too far in life,” she said gesturing towards Selene’s chest.

“I’m not worried about Sjur.  I’d be more worried that the queen’s top assassin finds out what you’ve been saying.  Everyone knows that Corinnj doesn’t take kindly to slights made against her.”  All three women shuddered in unison and agreed it would be best to not let Corinnj catch wind of their gossip.  “Oh, looks like the prince is coming this way.”  All three snapped to attention and Selene took that opportunity to slip into the crowd without being noticed.

Two Hours Later

Selene walked out of the room she’d finally lured the target into and huffed in relief.  She paused as she saw Uldren standing there and arched an eyebrow.  “Can I help you, Your Highness?”  Selene tried to brush past him and his hand lashed out to grab her upper arm.  “Careful there princey boy.”  Selene narrowed her eyes at him dangerously.  Uldren thought of a predator just before it pounced or when it was cornered.

“We need to talk.”  Selene saw a few more partygoers headed down the hallway and she cursed his stubbornness.

“Fine.  This room is unoccupied.”  Selene practically shoved him into the room, thankful that she’d disposed of the body already.  She shut the door behind them and glared at him.  “What do you want?”

“Why did you have to kill that man?”  Selene blinked a few times at the question and blew out a breath.

“As if I ask why.  The reason I’ve lived as long as I have as the queen’s assassin is that I don’t ask stupid questions like that.”  She turned her back towards him as she observed the small room they were in.  A perfect place for seduction, it almost made her want to roll her eyes.  “Now why are you here?  I thought you and Jolyon were going to raid the Cosmodrome for the relic?”

“Not without someone who knows Vex tech,” he answered and Selene laughed.  What a paper thin excuse.  Jolyon knew enough to get them through that mission.  “Did you sleep with him?”  Her lips curved up.  Now they were getting to the crux of the reason he was pissed.  She sauntered over to him, spreading her fingers out over his chest.

“Jealous?” Selene asked sweetly leaning in with her face tilted towards his.  His arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers fisting in the shimmering fabric of her dress.  “And how you would react if I said I did sleep with him?”  Selene gasped when he jerked her against him, leaning down until their noses touched.

“Did you?” Uldren asked quietly but Selene merely smiled in return.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”  Selene smirked when his other hand grasped the front of her throat and squeezed.

“You are insufferable.”  His only answer was the twinkling in her eyes as she silently laughed at him.  He wanted to hate the vexing woman, but all he wanted was to have her under him.  No matter how much they bickered, how much they hid from each other, all he wanted was her.  His fingers tightened around her throat.  He could feel how excited she was with her pulse racing against his palm.  The hand at the small of her back reached up and eased the zipper down, letting the dress pool at her feet with a sharp twist of his wrist.

He looked down at her body, noting the body shimmer on her chest.  “Paralytic?”  She nodded and he gently peeled the silicone off and tossed it aside.  His hand cupped her breast, savoring the weight and feel of her against him.  He felt her moan against his hand feeling a rush of power go through him.  He stepped back and gently pushed her towards the large bed.  “Bed, now.”

“So bossy.”  Selene stepped backwards with his hand still on her throat.  “What are you going to do?  Spank me?”  The taunt had his eyes darkening as he stared down at her.  She wasn’t wearing any underwear, not with that getup she’d had on.  He shoved and she fell backwards on the bed.  Selene merely grinned, running her hand up her body while spreading her legs in an open invitation.

Uldren clenched his fist in frustration.  She could get him hard with just one simple look, and it annoyed him how easy it was for her.  He’d get on his knees begging if he wasn’t careful.  He shed his clothes and knelt between her legs.  “Take that off.”

“My wig?  Now why would I do that?” Selene asked cheekily but her fingers pulled it off easily, allowing her silver hair to fall around her face.  “But since I’m feeling indulgent, why not?”  Uldren hand reached out and grasped the front of her throat, tilting her face towards his.

He could see the amusement in those blue eyes, but also the hunger.  She wasn’t as unaffected as she liked to play.  His other hand reached between her legs and it was his turn to smirk.  She was soaking his fingers and her body shuddered when two fingers slid inside.  “You’re turned on.”

“Maybe I am,” she replied hoarsely.  His hand tightened until the air was cut off.  Selene groaned against him as the burning built in her chest fueled by a small dose of panic.  Uldren released her throat as his palm massaged her clit, sending euphoric waves through her body and her walls squeezed his fingers.  He gave her a moment before squeezing again.  He kept it longer this time shuddering when her body reacted more strongly.

“I want to feel you.”  Selene’s back bowed when his cock slammed to the hilt inside her.  Her fingers twisted in the sheets, tangling as the heat tangled inside her body.  His grip relaxed and the gulp of air had her giddy.  Her body felt weightless and hazy with the oxygen rushing back in.  “You shouldn’t feel this damn good.”

“Hmm, sweet talker.”  Selene’s chuckle was cut off by another squeeze, this time was a little rougher.  Instead of panic, she felt anticipation shudder through her.  Her back bowed when his hips rocked against hers.  The head of his cock hit deep inside, rocking against her until stars exploded behind her eyelids.  Her hands itched to feel him, to run over his shoulders, and rake down his back.  She refrained.  Selene squirmed when the burn got too much and Uldren released her throat.

Selene’s head fell back as she let out a soft moan from the orgasm.  The euphoric rush fueled her body as the heated pleasure crashed through her body.  A needy whimper trembled off her lips with each wave.  Uldren cursed as his hips snapped against hers and his cock pulsed inside.  His forehead dropped to the mattress beside her and they both reigned in their breathing.  Both looked up as the voices drifted by the door with raucous, drunken laughter reached them.  Selene pushed at his shoulder.

“I have to make my report,” she said but he stubbornly refused to move.  “Uldren…”  She hissed when his hand slammed her down onto the bed but she met his angry gaze defiantly.

“Addressing me like that?”  She scoffed at the indignation in his voice.  “I should have you punished for it.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.  Go ahead then Uldren.  Do your worst.”

[midnightshade]

Title: Deal with the Devil

↷Synopsis: Uro Takako, the leader of the Sun, Moon, and Stars unit for the Toh, is visited by a peculiar man with an even stranger offer

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,542

Warnings: Implied Era Typical Misogyny

Author's Note: N/A

Masterlist

reblogs and interactions are incredibly appreciated ♥︎

The afternoon sun shone high in the sky, bathing the land with its warm, golden rays and casting long shadows. A gentle breeze picked up, carrying upon it the sweet scent of the gardens and rustling the leaves of the trees that surrounded the Fujiwara estate.

A young woman sat alone at the edge of the Courtyard, her face drawn in a peaceful countenance as she held herself with relaxed poise, eyes closed as she soaked in the sunlight that cascaded over her form.

The sound of approaching footsteps disrupted the tranquil atmosphere. Though she felt no aggression, years of training kept her cautious. She made no attempt to move, though her fingers twitched in preparation to grab the blade tucked discreetly within the folds of her Kimono.

"Are you Uro Takako?"

She opened her eyes and looked to her unwanted companion, finding a young Nobleman standing before her.

He stood tall with a handsome face, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he gazed upon her with dark eyes. Long dark hair cascaded down his back, pulled back to emphasize the ugly stitching that ran across his forehead.

Countless Nobles visited the Estate each day for business, but this man escaped identification. Her memory was sharp, but as she studied him, she realized she couldn't put a name to his face.

She gave a measured response, voice cautious though not outwardly hostile. This man seemed unnatural in a way she couldn't place. "That depends on who's asking."

His smile widened at her comment, and he introduced himself, bowing politely in a single fluid motion. "You can call me Satsuma Takashi."

'You can call me'

She narrowed her eyes at his bizarre choice of words but made no comment on it. She instead focused on the flicker of unease she felt deep in her chest. By all accounts he seemed like a typical Noble, he didn't even seem particularly strong, but she felt as if she were in the presence of something awful, and no matter how hard she tried, her eyes kept landing back on the stitching along his forehead.

Despite herself, she answered the man, confirming his suspicions. "I'm Uro Takako. Why are you looking for me? Most people come to speak with the Head of the Estate."

She watched as he looked back to the Main House, his gaze thoughtful before glancing back at her. "I have no interest in anyone there. You're who I came to see. I've heard a lot about the Leader of the Sun, Moon, and Stars unit for the Toh, and I wanted to sate my curiosity."

Her position became a topic of contention early on. Putting a woman such as herself in a position of leadership caused a lot of outrage, even among some lower members of the Fujiwara Clan. Perhaps for that reason, his words only caused her to grow defensive.

"Did you come here just to gawk at me?" She asked, her voice flattening into something far less polite

He raised a hand in an attempt to placate her, giving an apologetic smile. "I meant no disrespect. I traveled this far just to meet you. In fact, I have an offer I'd like to make."

"I'm not for hire," she said curtly, watching as he waved his hand dismissively.

"You misunderstand, I don't want you for a job, but I do think you'll be interested in a project of mine."

Takako stared him down. She didn't respond immediately, mulling over her words before asking, "What project?"

Satsuma's smile returned. "I'm conducting a ritual of sorts; a Culling Game where participants will compete to see who among them is the strongest."

"What makes you think I have any interest in your game?" She asked.

"I've heard quite a few stories about you; your cunningness and your ferocity in battle. You take pride in your job as an assassin. You can see this as an opportunity to prove you're worthy of your position."

His smile faltered as Takako stood abruptly and moved to leave, brushing past him as she walked away.

"I've heard enough. Do you seriously think I'm arrogant enough or desperate enough for the approval of others to participate in some madman's games? I know my worth, and I have no interest in participating. Goodbye."

Takako only made it a couple more feet before she stopped, feeling a notable shift in the atmosphere. From behind her, she heard Satsuma sigh before giving a small chuckle.

"I see now I approached you in the wrong way. I apologize for that. Let me be more straightforward with my intentions."

She turned to face him, unable to hide her shock. He looked exactly the same as before, but something about him was undeniably different.

The wind picked up, colder this time. She suppressed a shiver when she saw the smile he wore. Unlike before, this smile fit him far better. He looked at her as if she were some experiment . Despite herself, she returned it with her own grin, a surge of excitement running through her, something deep and primal that could only be born from fear.

She finally moved, walking back towards him only to gesture for him to follow her. "This way, then. We can speak somewhere more private. This had better be worth my time."

He followed without question, and when he moved, Takako noted that unlike before, she could hardly make out his footsteps.

She led him towards the treeline, away from any would-be eavesdroppers before she turned to face him, leaning back against a tree and crossing her arms, gesturing for him to speak.

"As I said before, I'd like to conduct a Culling Game—"

"And as I said before, I'm not interested in some petty competition. You have to make this worth my while."

He seemed unbothered by her interruption, dipping his head in acknowledgment before continuing.

"I understand. Allow me to explain. This will be beneficial, not only for you but for the Toh."

Takako raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure?"

"Several Shaman have already agreed to participate. You are an important figurehead within the Clan. Despite any arguments made about your position, your talents are feared and respected. You'll have a chance to further prove your worthiness while also cementing the power of the Fujiwara."

Takako lowered her head, a laugh bubbling up from deep within her chest before she lifted her head to meet his gaze. "Playing on my loyalty? You've done your research."

He returned her smile and for the first time it reached his eyes. "Is it working?" He asked, a note of amusement lacing his voice.

Takako smiled at the audacity but didn't confirm it. "I'll admit, I am intrigued. It's an ambitious idea, but I need more information before I agree to anything. How exactly is this going to work? When will it take place?"

"The time the games take place will depend entirely on circumstance, but they won't begin until later. They could take place anywhere between a few centuries to a millennium from now."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, almost waiting for him to start laughing, but the silence that followed told her this wasn't a joke. "How is everyone meant to compete if we're dead?"

"I fully expect those who agreed to pass on," he began. "Participants will be resurrected to partake in the games."

"Resurrection? Is that even possible?"

"It is. Players will enter into a binding vow with me. It will allow me to give them a new vessel once the time comes. Rest assured, you'll retain all current memories and abilities"

"How exactly do you plan to resurrect us if you're dead?"

"You don't need to worry about that."

Her skin prickled at his words as if someone had walked over her grave. Without meaning to, her eyes returned to the stitching on his forehead. She didn't ask why, not wanting to know the answer.

His voice drew her from her thoughts. "So, are you interested?"

She would be lying if she said no. Her interest had been piqued, but a single question clung to her mind. Refusing to leave it unanswered, she asked, "Before I say yes, I want to know why you're doing this. Why go this far?"

Satsuma tilted his head as if amused by her question. It seemed to her that not many people asked him his reasoning. After a moment of consideration, he said, "I'm curious."

"You're doing this just for curiosity's sake?"

She wasn't convinced. She didn't even think he was convinced with his own answer, but he didn't indulge her any further, simply saying, "Think of it as an experiment."

She frowned, not exactly satisfied with his reply. "One more question, who are you really?"

"How are you so sure I'm not who I say I am?" He asked.

"Don't insult my intelligence. I knew something was off about you from the beginning."

He laughed, delighted by her response. "You're more perceptive than most, I was right to seek you out. My real name is Kenjaku."

Kenjaku

She repeated the name under her breath. Learning his actual name only confirmed her curiosity.

"So, do we have a deal?"

"I'm in. What do I have to do?"

[bluemoonfantasiesiii]

Vincent had a small smile before walking to stand beside him and look down at the doorway to the land of the deep "and I was wondering where did I hear his voice before" he said calmly.

"That Ronin was one of those few occupying Tsurumi Island and he was chasing after me when I slide down into some open space and he stopped immediately and slowly turned to leave saying something like 'good luck in surviving' or something up that line"

"When I looked at the free piece of ground behind me I saw nothing but a tall and slightly wide hole in the middle of the air, nothing to hold it or make it, it was just there like an abyssal portal.. or something.. when I went closer to it, you could say half a way only, I heard a roaring voice it was all rumbley at first then it did tell me to go away which I asked 'is it bad for me here?' The voice was quiet for a bit before a huge Wolf in gold colour came out of that black hole thing with the body of slim dragon and looked at me while i didn't move from my spot as curiosity got the best of me yet again~" he slipped his tongue out for a second before continuing calmly

"he asked me as he got nearer to me 'can you hear me, human?' He asked and I nodded 'yes, who are you?' I asked and he started laughing, moving around me calmly I dare say he was amused by my reply 'how come? You are not a khaenri'ah not even Gold's child' he sounded delighted for some reason 'I'm surely not' 'then how?' He asked 'I don't know, but how about you tell me who are you and I tell you something you want to know about in this time line?' I suggested a deal and he seemed to think about the matter before nodding and that when I asked to draw him while I answer his question which he allowed me to do"

"He said 'I'm the great Wolflord of the rifthounds, Garmr. Now tell me About Durin, strange human. He is a dragon no one can miss his glorious sight' and then I told him the normal story known by all in Mondstadt which he just started to tell me more about himself and ask in return for few things and the last thing I asked about was the flowers 'Inteyvat' which he gave me as a reward for my strange will to stay and speak to him" he said before looking at Nigredo and add

"Then when I left the arena like ground some riftwolfs popped up from nowhere to attack me but they just stopped mid way and approaches me slowly one of them disappeared just to reappear suddenly under my free hand from my Lance and I believe that Ronin saw that and thought I tamed them. Hehe silly~" he commented on the man's thinking lastly.

"You could say, that one riftwolf came on its own wish to me, I didn't do anything but patting its head calmly since it was my first time being this close to one without attacking me let alone I was so curious about them. The other just went off. And this is the whole story" he said with soft smile to his gardener friend.

Nigredo visibly short-circuited at this information.

“There’s no way that was really Garmr!” he said. “There’s no way! He was always such a dick in the past!”

“There are less vulgar words for it,” Durin chided, “but holding a civil conversation is indeed out of character for him. Perhaps his time spent in isolation on that island has taken a toll on his confrontational nature. I am beginning to think we should visit him.”

“Oh sure,” Nigredo sneered. “That island’s already riddled with ghosts. What’s two more, right?? Durin, give me a fucking break. What would he even think of me now? I mean, look at me!” He gestured to his shadowy imitation of Albedo’s Favonius alchemy uniform. “I’ve gone totally native! And how the hell would we explain Albedo? Do we just stroll up to him and say ‘Hey, Rhinedottir killed me, sent Durin to his death, which is why he’s in this sword now, and then survived the damn apocalypse so she could build my replacement, and at some point I came back to life for no apparent reason’?”

“Do you not think he deserves to know the state of our home and our family? He is still our brother.”

“I don’t think he deserves anything, to be totally frank, Αδελφός. Ugh, but I am painfully curious about something… There was something that got brought up at dinner that’s bugging the absolute shit out of me…”

[nickitxrres]

Nicki did not pay any attention to Isaac as he climbed the fence to reach the release. She couldn’t risk looking up to make sure that he could get the door down. One mere second of distraction could be the difference between surviving or being turned. Her machete was like an extension of her arm as she sliced and diced any Walkers that were moseying their way towards her and Isaac. Of course, every one she took down, two more took its place. She didn’t know how much longer she would really be able to hold them off but she was not gonna give up. It was not in Nicki’s nature to roll over.

The only sign she got that Isaac was remotely successful was when she heard the loud rattle as the door began to draw closed. But even then, she didn’t stop. Walkers were still coming and if any made it through before he got the door closed, they would be coming straight towards her. The sleeves of her arms were coated in zombie blood. She could feel droplets hitting her face every time she swung her arm back. But blood never bothered her - you couldn’t be a Raider and be queasy at all. The only thing bothering her was she was sure she was going to have a hell of a time cleaning it out of her hair. That was a problem for later after they survived this.

Nicki was ready to take a breather but then the door jammed. Fuck, she thought to herself. She saw the zombie stuck in the door and, thinking it was what was keeping the door from falling, she cleaved it and it fell into pieces, but the door still didn’t move. “Of course this would be the one door in this place that doesn’t shut,” she muttered. There was no way back now, only through. It wasn’t the greatest plan but it was the only other plan. Other than staying in this killbox and hoping that the Walkers didn’t overrun them. Staying still got you killed. It was definitely better to be on the run. “Go, I got you,” she said.

She watched as Ike crouched under the door. Hands were reaching for him and she cut them down without a moment’s thought. She cleared the way a bit before following after him as well and running through the Garden Center. It was much more open, rows upon rows of dead plants and picked over tools. She could make out the exit at the other end - through the horde of infected coming right at them. “Race you,” she smirked at Isaac before jumping onto the raised beds where the flowers once used to bloom and glided across towards the exit.

Any zombie dumb enough to try and reach her was met with the end of her machete and fell like the sacks of fertilizer laying around. When she got to the end she jumped, her boot landing on the top of the head of a Walker and propelled herself forward as she turned and cleaved its skull in. Ike had left his own trail of Walkers in his wake and if they weren’t currently in the midst of a life-or-death scenario, she would be making some comment about the efficiency of how he swung his bat. But there would be plenty of time for that after they got out of this.

Nicki skidded as she got to the door and tried to pull it open. Of course it wouldn’t budge. “Maldición jodido hijo te puta,” she muttered as she slid her machete back into her sheath and pulled out her crowbar. Her arms threw back and she wedged it into the crack to push. If the door wasn’t going to budge for her, she was gonna rip the damn thing off its hinges. Her muscles were straining as she put all of her might into the damn door. She could hear Isaac behind her bludgeoning the Walkers. She could do this - she had to do this. With a yell and a push the door pried open and she pulled it open. “Ike, let’s go!” she yelled, holding it open for him. Nicki waited for him to run through before following and slamming the door closed.

Now out in the open and a solid barrier between them, she doubled over and caught her breath. “Fuck, that was close,” she muttered. She took a deep breath and stood up, sliding her crowbar back into its holder on her back. They couldn’t hang around there long. The longer they stayed out there, the more prepared the Sunfacers were going to get. But she did have time for one thing - or well, two things. Sauntering over to Isaac she had a pure look of determination as she slapped him. “That’s for being an idiot and jumping in after me! Cabrón, you could have gotten yourself killed!” But before he could come up with any witty retort she was grabbing his jacket collar and yanking him down to kiss him hard. Yeah, she couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. Although she did yank him back, keeping her fingers curled in his collar. “That’s for saving me, tu gran idiota.”

He would've been as pissed as Nicki was if she'd trapped herself with him, but from high up on the industrial shelving, Ike had seen the mounted roll-down shutters. And once he told Nicki about them, she grimly redirected her energy to keeping the biters off his back as Ike bundled some of his leather jacket around his hand and half-climbed the swung-open gate so he could jam the end of his bat against the manual release for the roll-down.

Even with the gloves he habitually wore, even with a couple layers of leather, the razor wire still sliced into the back of his hand, but it wasn't anything bad enough to slow him down. All of his raiders were approaching inhuman in their ability to work through pain and injuries and seeing the kind of horrible shit that would give other people months of sleepless nights.

With the roll-down engaged, Ike was able to grab the handle at its edge and pull it down further -- except that it stopped about four feet shy of the ground. "It's fucking stuck," he grunted, tugging and hauling as the shutter gave an unholy grinding noise and refused to budge. Ike watched Nicki put down a walker that had been halfway through, bent over with the roll-down pressing against its back, and said, "We can't get out of this blind alley they trapped us in," he said, looking at the gate at the far end -- more razor wire and barbed wire at the top, no less. "And we can't stay. She's gone to get the adult Sunfacers."

Ike looked down at the gap, at a biter crawling beneath it to try and get to them. He crunched his bat against the top of its skull, then knocked its face off, saying, "We gotta go through the fuckin' Garden Centre and all the walkers milling around in there. We need to get out and double back through the sandwich shop again so we can take care of all the Sunfacers and get our god damn supplies."

They'd come far for this; the potential of the haul was enormous. Ike wasn't about to abandon the entire job and run for the hills, and he knew that would be anathema to Nicki too. "Once more unto the motherfuckin' breach," Ike said, and crouched down to weasel himself below the roll-down gate and through.

[midgardianweasley]

The Royal Ball

The Royal Ball

Loki laufeyson x Fem!reader

Summary: There is an Asgard ball being hosted in the palace, Y/N is yet to find a date to accompany her. She’s disappointed when a certain God doesn’t ask her, however, what happens when he sees someone else getting a little too close for comfort throughout the night?

Warnings: lil bit angsty, self doubt, JEALOUS LOKI, fluffy ending

Word Count: 3.3k

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Requests are open loves <3

Y/F/N - Your Friend’s Name

It was a beautiful autumn’s day, crisp brown leaves were falling off of the large trees in the courtyard and scattering the cobbled ground. Loki and I had been wandering around for some time now, discussing everything from the books we’ve been reading to the dreams that have come to us in our sleep.

“And then this huge ghost thing was chasing me around the halls! and if that wasn’t weird enough, you popped up-”

“Ah, seeing me in your dreams are we, darling?”  Loki chuckled, taking great pleasure at the fact that he had made an appearance in my subconscious, completely ignoring my distress at being chased by a supernatural being.

“Funny you should say that, right after seeing you, I woke up. The sight must’ve given me quite the scare.” I scoffed, a smile unable to stop itself from making its way onto my face, eyes meeting his, face etched with shock. With a hand to his chest, he spoke again in disbelief.

“You have truly offended me, love. I never knew you had this side to you.”

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” I winked, nudging his side slightly with my elbow.

“Really? Can you produce illusions?”

“No.”

“Look inside other people’s heads?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Turn yourself into a snake to scare your eight year old brother?”

“I still can’t believe you did that”

“My greatest achievement yet.” He smirked, the memory never failing to amuse him.

His stories always had me in awe of his capabilities, even if it was to give his brother a long-term fear, it was still an incredible talent. Whenever he tells me of his latest adventures or tricks, I always think of how well his title fits him. God of Mischief. Maybe that’s why I liked him much more than what a best friend should, not that I'd ever admit it. Not to him anyway.

We soon found ourselves standing next to one of the windows of the hallway, the crystal clear glass giving a beautiful view of the city of Asgard. From here, you could see the Queen’s gardens, full of flowers in all different colours and types, grass cut to perfection. You could see the families in the town, walking around the different buildings, children playing. It was lovely to watch, seeing everyone enjoy the seasonal weather and the light bounce off of the windows, it was ethereal.

“I never get tired of this.” I sighed, voice only slightly above a whisper

“Tired of what, love?”

“Just, this. This view, this kingdom, it’s incredible.” I looked up at Loki, trying to see if he was seeing the same beauty that I did. He was already looking at me when I met his eyes and upon seeing the way they sparkled, I assumed he did.

“Actually, speaking of the Kingdom, I have something to tell you. There’s-”

Abruptly stopping him from continuing his sentence, voices were heard from the other end of the hallway, though we couldn’t make out the words until they came closer. We gave each other a quick look of confusion before turning to see where the commotion was coming from, hearing the quick and heavy footsteps before being able to put names to the faces.

“Loki! Y/N!” A deep voice bellowed. Was that Thor making all of that noise?

Before I could process any more information, a blur of a pastel pink dress was in my face and hands were placed on my shoulders. I smiled down at the slightly out of breath figure using me as a support stand, it was Y/F/N.

“Wow, Y/F/N, you sound much different than when I spoke to you yesterday, did you drink something funny?” I chuckled, receiving a glare from my friend and a quiet laugh from the God beside me. Thor soon appeared next to Y/F/N, hands on his hips and head thrown back as he tried to compose himself.

“My God, Y/F/N, you run fast.” He pants.

“Care to tell us why you’re both running like madmen through the palace?” Loki speaks, one eyebrow raised in curiosity and what looked a little like concern.

“We..had to..tell you..there’s a ball..next week.” Y/F/N spoke, a bit more stable now, but still in between breaths.

I felt my eyes widen, a ball? I didn’t know Asgard held balls.

“Father is opening up the palace next week to neighbouring kingdoms, in hopes to be closer with them, open Asgard up to more trade opportunities, build relationships and whatnot.” Thor explained, emitting a loud sigh to come from Loki.

“I was just about to tell her, brother. Thank you for interrupting.” He rolled his eyes, half joking, half serious. I reached up and patted his shoulder gently, a small smile on my face.

“Maybe next time Lok” He nodded in response, I didn’t get a chance to comfort him much more before I was being pulled away by Y/F/N. With a small huff of surprise, I gave Loki a glance, silently apologising for our conversation being cut short, receiving a shake of his head in reply, affirming me to not worry about it.

“So.” she begins. “We need to find you a date and a dress. I’m thinking blue. I’m wearing purple so it’s probably best to avoid that one. Hmm. let’s see..oh! I know! we could- Y/N? You listening?” I snapped my head around, not missing the sly smile that was plastered all over my friend’s face.

“Y/F/N, don’t-”

“Loki! He has to be your date. You could wear green and match! If he’s even going to wear green, I'm sure I can get Thor to find out, I assume they’ll get ready together. And black accessories! I have so many ideas.” She clapped her hands, over-excited about the opportunity to plan this evening for us. Except for one minor detail.

“That sounds great, Y/F/N, it sounds wonderful, you’re just missing something.”

“Missing something? Oh, if you mean our hair then i’ve already-”

“No, not our hair. Loki hasn’t asked me, and I doubt he will.” I spoke, the second half coming out more as a whisper, my heart dropping a little at the thought. He’d never really expressed having those kinds of feelings for me and I'd always seen him be close with different girls around the palace, he’ll probably ask one of them.

“He might ask you, you never know what’s around the corner.”

“I guess so, we’ll have to wait and see.”

And that was the last we spoke of it before she went into full planner mode again, while I continued to ponder over all of the thoughts running through my head. I mean, he could ask me, right?

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

He didn’t.

After talking about it with Y/F/N, I had a glimmer of hope that maybe I was wrong, maybe I hadn’t noticed something that she had, that Loki would approach me and ask me to be his company for the evening.

I spent the next couple of days with him, hoping he would ask me, everytime a pause would appear in conversation, maybe he was finally going to do it. And everytime, a little bit of the hope I had, had fizzled out.

I’d even considered other reasons as to why he hadn’t asked, maybe the King didn’t want him and Thor to have dates so that they could mingle with members of the other kingdoms. Of course that theory had flown right out one of the Palace’s windows when Y/F/N told me that Thor was going to be her date. I was right then, he wasn’t wanting to go with me.

I guess I understood, I’m the best friend, we’d always been that. I think a part of me just thought that maybe he, like me, wanted something a little more. Clearly, I was mistaken.

Y/F/N and I had been getting ready for a while now, our hair was styled to perfection, our dresses were on and both of us were fully accessorized. We were looking at ourselves in the mirror, doing spins and curtseys and gushing over how good the other looked.

“You look amazing tonight, Y/N, really. Loki is missing out.”

“Thank you, and I'm sure his date is beautiful.” I spoke, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress, trying to avoid the subject and the twisting knot in my stomach at the thought of him with someone else all night. “You look incredible! You were right to pick purple, it’s definitely your colour.”

“Y/N’s right, you look gorgeous.” Thor declared, leaning against the doorway sporting a black suit and a dark purple tie, the perfect match with his date’s dress. I could feel my eyes light up when seeing how happy the simple, yet effective comment had made Y/F/N. Rushing over, she engulfed Thor in a hug before leaning up slightly and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Ah and can’t forget, Y/N, you look stunning tonight.” He gestured to me, arm almost scanning me up and down.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” I laughed. “You both head off, I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure? We don’t mind waiting?” Y/F/N questioned.

“Don’t be silly. You guys go on ahead, I'll meet you there.”

With a nod and a wave, they were off. They really did look like a perfect match tonight. I continued to look at myself in the mirror, fixing any stray hairs, flattening any kinks in my dress. Realistically, I was probably trying to prolong leaving for as long as I could. I was excited, but I was turning up on my own while everyone else had someone, it was a bit nerve-wracking. I still wanted to look my best though.

“Stop trying to convince yourself that you look good, you could literally blow an army of men away by looks alone.” A voice spoke, I spun to see who was speaking, the flash of green was enough to decipher who it was.

“You look lovely tonight, darling.” He grinned, the pet name had set off butterflies in my stomach.

“Thank you. As do you.”

“Well, I did put in an effort, nice to know it’s appreciated.” He joked, a breathy laugh left my lips, entertained by his words.

“Yes, well, I'm sure plenty of others will too.”

“The eyes will never leave me, I'm sure. Unless they’re on you, then I'd be surprised if I get even so much as a glimpse in my direction. Someone is a very lucky guy tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, confused by his statement.

“Well, they get to be beside you all evening, it’s a beautiful view.” He winked.

It could’ve been you, I thought. I knew he was joking, however that didn’t stop the fire in me from igniting.

“I could say the same for you, someone is a very lucky girl.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know if she ever thinks otherwise.” Joking, again.

So he had asked someone. Albeit disappointed, I'm happy he’s happy. Though I still wish I was the girl in question, I couldn't stop him if he was interested in someone else. That wasn’t fair.

Giving him a brief nod and a tight lipped smile, I picked up the front of my dress a little bit and made my way out of the room and downstairs to the ball. I could still enjoy myself, the night is young, I've got this.

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

“It was crazy! And let me tell you, my dad was so angry with me. He didn’t let me serve Turkey again after that year.” Charlie, a guy that I had met an hour or so ago, finished his story of the Christmas horror he had, allowing me to relax for the first time that evening. Up until now, it had felt like all I’d seen was either happy couples, or stares from across the room. Usually the second and usually Loki. The same Loki who had a girl’s arm linked with his and was looking at him like he held the world in his grasp. I broke the gaze, finding it difficult to look at the pair for any longer, as I turned back to Charlie so he could have my attention again, a lazy smile was present as he took a sip of his wine.

“I don’t blame him, really, it sounds like you started a riot!” I exclaimed, sending us both into a full on belly laugh, thinking back to the story. This continued for another five or so minutes, laughter turning into a low chuckle, as if we were about to be told off for how loud we were being. Just as my hand had reached his arm to help hold me up, saving me from laughing myself into the ground, Loki and his date had made their way over.

“Enjoying ourselves, I hope?” He beamed, taking one look at me before giving his full attention to Charlie.

“Yes, yes we are, thank you. How about the two of you?”

“Ye-”

“It’s been fine, yeah, good. So, what’s your name then?” Loki interrupted, his date having no choice but to leave him to respond instead.

“I’m Charlie Fernsby.” He held his hand out, greeting Loki. A gesture that was very awkwardly not reciprocated as he let his hand fall back to his side before Loki spoke up again.

“Charlie..Charlie, now, isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“Loki!” I scolded, giving him an evil side glance, what was he doing?

“No, no it’s okay. Yeah, it can be used for girls too, but it's common for boys to have the name Charlie.” Polite as ever, he responded. A mischievous look made its way onto the God’s face. Oh no.

“So, I take it your parents wanted a girl?”

“I- I’m sorry?”

“I assume your parents wanted a girl, considering they’ve given you a girl’s name?” I rolled my eyes, this teasing was unnecessary.

“Charlie, let’s go and get a drink.” I tried to tug him away, only to be halted by another sentence leaving my best friend’s mouth.

“It was only a question, I'm sure he doesn’t mind answering, do you Carl?”

“Charlie.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said-” I tried to interject, but he was quick to stop me

“I know what I said, Y/N, but I'm speaking to him. Let him answer the question.”

Loki’s date was long gone by now, she’d left to speak to another group of people, presumably another few couples, leaving us three to have this discussion, thing, whatever you would think to call it.

“I’m just saying, maybe they would’ve preferred a daughter, seeing as they’ve very obviously made that clear.” He beamed, expecting me to join in and agree with him, I don’t find this funny. At all.

“Can you excuse us, Charlie? Loki, A word.” I pointed to the door, giving him a look implying for him not to test me.

“I’m in trouble. Wish me luck Carlos.”

“Charlie.”

“I know, that’s what I said.”

I pushed him all the way out the door, into the hallway and round the corner so as not to disturb everyone else’s evening. When I’d made sure there was no one else around, I looked up at the Asgardian, my arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, I wasn’t impressed anymore.

“So, are we out here for some hide or seek, or?”

“What the hell was that in there?!” I raised my voice slightly, his need to always make everything a joke wasn’t working this time. He had his night, his date, he didn’t need to come over and insult mine.

“What was what, darling? I was making conversation.”

“You were making fun of him.”

“No, I showed some concern about his parents choices, that’s all. Friendly advice if anything.” He looked a bit more frustrated with me now, as though he was stating the obvious and it was going over my head. I wasn’t having it this time.

“No, Loki. You weren’t and you know you weren’t. You had your date, she was fine, you were fine-”

“Well-”

“Let me finish. Everything was fine. Until you caught sight of me having a friendly conversation with another guy who wasn’t you. But guess what Lok, I’m allowed to do that! I’m an adult, I can speak with whoever I like!” My arms were all over the place now, my frustration was starting to show itself, it seems I had a bit pent up.

I saw his lips move, I heard something, but it was so quiet I couldn't make it out.

“Speak up, Loki. I can’t hear you.”

“I said, if you think he was just being friendly, you’re clearly out of your mind.”

Is he serious?

“Are you- Loki, you have no right to make a judgement on who and how and why I interact with other people. Not that it should matter to you anyway, you’ve spoken to other women before and I've never said a word or tried to stop you. Why does this matter so much?”

Silence.

“No, please, go on, tell me, enlighten me as to why this bothered you so much tonight, because trust me, I'm dying to know, truly.” I was shouting now, I just wanted answers for his behaviour, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.

His hands had made his way into his trouser pockets, eyes looking everywhere before settling on mine. He looked conflicted, I wanted to drop it when I saw his troubled gaze, but I couldn’t go back in there without an explanation.

“Ple-”

“I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, love? That I was so uncomfortable seeing some you get close with some guy that I had to embarrass him in front of you? Something I'm sure my father won’t be so impressed to hear, but there, you’ve got your confession.” His voice had gone much louder than mine, taking me by surprise, so much so that it took me a minute to process what he had said. He liked me?

He turned to leave, I assume because I hadn't said anything for a matter of minutes, but I gently grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards me. I looked up into his eyes again. I was so close that you could see the specs of different colours spotted in them, they were flawless. This view beats the Asgard view anyday.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Worried I guess. We’d never spoken of moving past friendship and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I’m more than interested, Loki.” I grinned, my smile meeting my eyes, never leaving his.

“Not Chelsey?”

“For the love, it’s Ch-”

I couldn’t say his name, a certain pair of lips had stopped me from doing so. As they molded against mine, my hands went up to tangle themselves in his hair, his hands falling to my waist and pulling me closer, I didn’t even think that could be possible. We pulled away when we needed to catch a breath, foreheads falling against each other, smiles painted on both of our faces.

“I bet I'll be in your dreams again tonight.” He whispered.

“I bet I'll be in yours.”

“Always are, Darling. Always are.”

taglist: @horrorxweasley

[ragnarachael]

kinktober — day twenty-one; dirty talk with loki

paring: loki x reader

warnings: a modern au i guess??? not really good dirty talk bc when i wrote this i was SO OVER writing smut so i’m apologizing for that

notes: today is the day my friend LITERALLY gets hitched. it’s only poetic i make it themed about weddings. anyway, a crazy day ahead for me!! love u all!!!

kinktober tag list: @theaudacitytowrite @thinkingth0ts @minssmutblog @abasiclokiwhore @user8292 @itsz-justea @lanablakee @marvelmysterywoman @geeky-politics-46 @stardust-galaxies @milly-louise @agustdowney @aenother @dtrl2003 @writewithmarites @pennywiseass @ssstilesreid @thehuntresswolf​ @iwannafeelallthatloveandemotion​ @remuslupinsmoon @lalaooopsie

kinktober masterlist | feedback | kinktober taglist is here! fill this out to be apart of it! | ALSO! day 31 i’ve deemed as FOLLOWER’S CHOICE! click here to be taken to the follower’s choice poll and cast your vote!! (VOTING CLOSES OCTOBER 26TH!)

Loki’s been torturing you all day between the events of the day. You were one of the bridesmaids for this wedding, and he was a groomsman. It seemed only perfect that the universe would match you up with your one night stand from months ago, didn't it?

“You look gorgeous in the dress,” he’d start during the rehearsal, the two of you walking arm in arm down the aisle in the empty ballroom your friend picked as her venue with you months ago. “Can’t wait to see what it looks like on the floor of my hotel room.”

“Shut up,” you’d hiss back, discreetly nudging his ribs before you parted to your respective sides of the platform you were to be standing on.

There were other comments you really ignored, trying to get this wedding done and over with so you can go home to your cat and recharge your social battery. But during the actual ceremony, it seemed to get worse.

“What if I were to bend you over one of these tables,” he muses once you’re alone at your assigned tables at the reception. “Reckon they’d be mad?”

“Probably,” you reply, crossing a leg over the other under the skirt of your dress as you sip at your vodka soda. “With how my luck has been running, the table would break though.”

“Mm,” Loki hums.

It’s silent between you two for a moment, before he speaks again. 

“You know, we could just...leave.”

You turn to look at Loki, in shock and kind of confused as to why he would even offer such a thing. “The reception hasn’t really started yet. She would kill me—”

“Who said we wouldn’t come back? I haven’t told you my plans for the garden.”

Tilting your head, you adjust your sitting position, raising a neatly sculpted brow that has somehow maintained its shape.

“The garden?”

“Yes.” Loki’s smiling evilly now. “The garden. You would leave here first, and I would follow before dragging you to this one little bench that’s secluded but not too far from here—”

“How long have you been thinking about this? Christ,” you huff dramatically, taking a gulp of your drink once more. “You’ve planned too much of this.”

Loki gives you a pointed look, clearing his throat.

“Anyway. Find the bench and have you lay back so I can fuck you until you’re begging to be dripping with my cum for the rest of this shit show. What do you think?”

You blink slowly at him, trying to really process what he’s saying here to you. To be honest, you’re all for it. It sounds like a whole treat you’ll love to experience. And to be fair, he did show you a great time during your night together months ago.

Finally, you take a deep breath and place your glass down. Loki’s face is looking more hopeful than anything, and you try to keep your excitement down as you come to terms with your choice.

“Alright.”

[pixie88]

Home swee...yeah, maybe not!

Chapter 16 - The Neighbour.

A/N | Sorry its been a while, hope this makes up for it.

Comments & reblogs welcome!

Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Summary | Dean and Alana are in the UK....

Check out previous chapters Here!

Word count | 2.7k

Warnings | 18 + Only! Angst

Pairings | Dean x Alana.

Enjoy!

Twelve hours later...

They pull up to the house, "the driveway is like a road" Dean says as he gets out the car, "that's what living in the countryside is like" the taxi driver Rupert opens the boot, Dean pulls out his wallet handing him a note.

Dean pulls out the bags from the boot, Alana looks up at the house Dean makes his way over to her, "you ready?" he asks her, she looks at him, "whatever my Mother says please ignore her, she hasn't got a filter and doesn't think before she speaks!" she looks at him worried.

He cups her face, "there isn't anything she can say that will put me off you," he presses his lips to hers, "now come on, I can't wait to see all those baby photos" he winks at her, she rolls her eyes.

She knocks on the door, when it swings open she holds her breath "Alana!" her sister squeaks as she pulls her in for a hug, "Fifi!" She wraps her arms around her sister. Fifi pulls away "this must be Dean" she turns to him with a bright smile.

He holds out his hand, "Dean this is my sister Fiona, Fiona this is Dean" she smiles and takes his hand to shake it "Please Fifi, I hate Fiona!"

"Nice to meet you Fifi!" Dean smiles at her, "where's Mum and Dad?" Alana asks her, "Mum is faffing in the kitchen, Simon has taken Dad to Tesco to get some cider and the kids are in the garden. I saw you pull onto the drive and came out before she did" Fifi moves to the side to let them in.

"I'm guessing she's warned you about our Mother?" Dean chuckles, "she can't be that bad? Right?!" Fifi pulls at "yeah, she is that bad!" face. "My Dad will love you!" Alana pecks his cheek, "Mum! Alana and Dean are here!" Fifi calls out, "coming!" she calls back before they hear footsteps heading their way.

She appears from the kitchen with a big smile "Alana! My baby girl!" She wraps her arms round a reluctant Alana, finally letting her go Ronnie turns to Dean, "Ohhh! He's handsome isn't he!" Her Mum wiggles her brows at her daughter who rolls her eyes, "you must be Dean?" She holds out her hand, Dean smiles, taking it before placing a kiss on her cheek, "nice to meet you Ma'am!"

"Manners too, and a firm grip! Maybe, you could teach this one a thing or two and it's Ronnie" she smiles at him, "you two are in Alana's room, why don't you two take your cases up and I will fix you a drink!" she rushes back into the kitchen.

"Don't leave me too long with her" Fifi warns her as they make their way upstairs, "she doesn't seem as bad as you make out," Dean teases her as she pushes her bedroom door open, "give her ten minutes!" she puts her case on her bed. "I'll win her over," he winks at her, "good because this jet lag is kicking in and I'm a bitch when I'm tired"

"You're telling me like that's news to me, sweetheart!" He nudges her, she narrows her eyes at him, "I'm messing! We got jet lag as an excuse if she gets too much...hey, we can even have a code word, it has to be something we wouldn't use normally"

"What about pumpkin?" She nudges him, "as long as your Mum hasn't made pumpkin pie!" He chuckles as she rests her head on his shoulder, he kisses the top of it, "I doubt it! It's not a thing here," she sighs as she gets up off the bed.

Five hours later...

Ronnie was playing nice, Pete was in deep conversation with Dean about cars, Simon is playing football with Adrian, Isobel is on her phone when Alana sits down next to her, "so your Mum tells me, you have gone and got yourself a boyfriend?" Alana lowers her voice so Simon doesn't hear.

Isobel pulls her eyes away from her phone to look up at her Aunt, "he's not my boyfriend! He's a boy I'm friends with!" she grunts at her, "maybe if she focused on her own life instead of mine..." Isobel cuts herself off realizing she had said too much.

"What do you mean by that?" Alana pinches her brows at her, "nothing can we forget I said anything?!" Isobel pleads with her, not wanting to push anymore Alana  changes the subject, "how's school?" Isobel's face changes relieved "I'm actually really enjoying drama class"

"Just like your Mum!" Alana winks at her, this peaks Isobel's interest, "really?" she questions her Aunt not quite believing her, "yeah, she did drama as one of her GCSE's. She played Sandy in the end of year show"

"What? She never told me!" Isobel says wanting to ask so many questions, "yeah, I think Nan has a tape of it somewhere. Go and ask her to show you it" Isobel gets up and rushes over to her Nan.

Alana wanders over to her sister who's watching Simon and Adrian playing, "come on then, how are things with you?" Alana leans against the wall with her sister, snapping her out of her thoughts, "huh? Oh...yeah, great. I see Dad has stolen your boyfriend," she teases her sister, "one he's not my boyfriend...not yet anyway and two I can tell when you're lying!"

"Neither of you have spoken about it?"

"No, but I think I might soon, but stop deflecting and answer my question!" Fifi looks over to Simon, who just scored a goal and back to her sister, "I think you should, he seems like a good guy and god knows you haven't had many of those recently. Yes, I know you can tell when I'm lying. I hoped I got better at it, but I guess not." she sighs, "sister secret?" She looks at Alana waiting on her to agree.

Alana puts her fingers to her lips, pretending to lock them with a key and hooks her little finger in the air for Fifi to take, she hooks hers around Alana's. This was there secret handshake when they were going to tell each other a secret the other could never share with anyone.

"At the moment it feels more like a friendship than a sixteen year married" Fifi whispers so no one else can hear.

"Like friends or friends with benefits?" Fifi rolls her eyes at her sister, "just friends...no benefits at all! I think Custard is having more sex than I am at the moment," she huffs, "wait?! Custard, your cat?" Alana looks at her trying not to laugh, "yes, the bloody cat! My neighbour knocked on my door last week telling me, she thinks her cat Millie has had his kittens!"

Alana howls at her sister, "come on, things can be that dry?" Fifi glares at her making Alana realizes she's serious, "have you tried it on with him?" She quizzes her sister, "now why didn't I think of that!" Fifi mocks her, "hey, no need to get snarky with me"

"I sorry, it's just...I don't know what to do," she could see it was upsetting her, "have you spoken to him about it?"

"Yep, he just says he's tired...which I get because he works long hours, but now I'm thinking he just doesn't fancy me anymore!"

"Bullshit! Have you looked in the mirror?! If he doesn't fancy you he wants his bloody eyes testing!" Fifi laughs at her words that make her feel a tiny bit better about herself, "hey, I'm taking Dean to meet Chloe and Elliot at The Oak tomorrow night, get Mum and Dad to baby sit and come out. Get a few drinks into him, drinks make everyone horny!" she nudges her.

"Ok, I suppose we could do with a night out" Fifi smiles at her, "if that doesn't work, turn up at his work dressed as a slutty student! I bet that will make his pencil stand to attention!" Fifi howls with laughter, "you're terrible!"

"I maybe, but I got you to laugh!" Alana winks at her, "Alana could you help me take the plates in?" The pair heard their Mum calls over, "right, remember what I said" she winks at her as she makes her way over to pick up the plates from the table to take into the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later...

Dean realizes Alana hadn't come back out in a while, worried her Mum had finally got to her, he excuses himself from the table, taking more plates with him and goes in search for her as he steps inside just inches from the kitchen he can hear the pair talking.

He stops to listen just in case she doesn't need his help, when he heard Ronnie say "Alana, I just mean you deserve and can do better than some grease monkey! Sue's son is a banker, I could get you a date! Don't get me wrong, he's easy on the eye..but he's someone you sleep with and can show you a good time, not really marriage material and he lives in America how will that work if you want to move back?" Dean doesn't stick around to hear the rest, he places the plates on the dining table, grabs his coat and makes his way out the door.

"Mum!! Dean is the best thing that has happened to me in a long time and I will not, I repeat not, have you look down your nose at him! Instead of encouraging me to date someone with loads of money, maybe you should encourage me to be able to support myself, with or without a man. I wouldn't care if he was the trolley man at Walmart, he is worth a hundred Isaac's or Rick's in their poncy suits and as for where we live we will decide together! If you can't be happy for me...m-maybe we should head home!" Ronnie is rendered speechless knowing there is no room for argument.

She shook her head a little embarrassed and runs her hand over her face, "I guess you must really love him?" she looks up at her daughter who is nodding. "I get he's not polished like how you picture my all my boyfriends to be, but he's honest, kind, sweet, and I think he's the one!" she may have spat it out, but it doesn't make it any less true, she believed he may be the one.

"Well, if that is how you feel, I know nothing I will say will change that!" Ronnie smiles at her thinking maybe she was a little to harsh on Dean, "I better head back out!" Alana turns and makes her way to the garden.

As she walked outside she noticed her dad Pete and Simon were chatting among themselves, she looked around, but she couldn't see him, pinching her brow together "Dad? Where's Dean?" Pete looks confused, "I thought he was in there with you girls? He went in with more plates!"

Fuck! He must have heard! She cringes at the thought of him hearing her tell her Mum, she thought he might be the one. She wanders into her room to check if he's there, but he isn't, she pulls out her phone and dials his number.

It rings a couple of times before he answers, "Dean! Hey, are you ok?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, I'm fine. I just needed to clear my head! Everything just got a bit intense..." she can hear him smile.

"She's not scared you off?" she started biting her fingernails.

"She couldn't even if she tried!" he chuckles.

"Good! You know, if you went left as you come out the drive and then right, there is a pub on the right halfway down the road!"

He laughs, "I think I see it! Alana, I'll be back soon. Ok sweetheart?!"

"Yeah, yeah of course! Dean, I-I love you!"

"I love you too gorgeous!"

She hangs up.

He crosses the road, walks into the thatched pub.

It's small and quiet the barmaid smiles at him, "Alright lovely!" he takes a seat the bar "hey! Could I get a double whiskey, please?" she nods picking up his bottle from behind her "not from around here are ya?!" she asks pouring the golden liquid into the tumbler. "Nah, Lawrence, Kansas!" he hands over the cash as she pushes the tumbler across the bar, "One of the locals has come home from there with her...Oh wait are you Dean?"

He looks up at her "sorry, Pete said Alana was coming home with her boyfriend!" He smiled. Of course she knew, Alana said it was a little village where everyone on knew each others business.

"Yeah, that's me and you are?" he takes a huge gulp of his drink before pushing it over "Leona, I guess you've met Ronnie then?" she laughs, Dean looks up at her "Yep! Another please!" she pours him out another and places it in front of him "this one is on the house! Especially putting up with her!"

"Thanks! Has she always been such...?"

"A snob?!" she laughs, "yeah, she has, but as snobby as she is Alana and Fifi are two top girls!" Dean takes another sip of his drink "yeah, Alana is pretty special! Just a shame about her Mom!" he shook his head. "She didn't like you then?" another local walk in. She pulls him out a pint "Alright Bob!" he smiles and takes his pint "can you make me a tab?" she nods as Bob wanders over to a free table.

"She called me a grease monkey!" he frowned, "in front of Alana?" he nods. "Whoa! She's brave!" Dean pinches his brows together "I didn't stick around, Alana doesn't know I heard her." Leona laughed, "you aren't Alana's usual type which is probably why Ronnie is being a cow bag and I've known Alana for years she will stand up for anyone she loves. I think it’s a good thing you aren't like Isaac and Rick those two were dicks!"

"Can't argue about Isaac, but she never really mentioned Rick before?" Leona looks at him as if she said too much. She starts to busy herself, "Leona, who's Rick?" he calls over, Leona takes a deep breath, "look maybe you should talk to Alana?"

"Please?" Dean looks at her pleading, she sighs, "Rick was a dick, his name suited him perfectly! I don't like to speak ill of the dead. He and Alana were together two and a half years, after a year together, she seemed to pull away from everyone. I think her sister asked her out on New Years Eve Fifi begged her to come out and she was late back, no one heard or saw her for weeks. She finally appeared he had taken her away to a little village up north where she said she couldn't get any signal, she barely spent five minutes with her family before he'd call her and ask where she was and when she was coming home. She'd always left after that, a year or so later she left him and got her fight back, he begged her to take him back, but she stuck to her guns and refused. He even blackmailed her, he said he'd kill himself if she didn't take him back, she never believed he'd go through with it..."

Leona sighed, "she was in here when she got the call about the crash, he'd drove his car off a bridge along the A41 by pass...she blamed herself for a while, Ronnie didn't help she kept going on at her saying shouldn't have let him control her the way he did, why didn't she tell someone what he was doing to her or his threat to kill himself"

"Really?!" he asked, shocked "you've met her, is it really that surprising? I had Alana in here crying her eyes out thinking she was weak, that she wasn't good enough to find someone who would treat her right...then she jumped on a plane to America and when she did come home she was her old self again...until that Isaac broke her heart even then Ronnie blamed her" Leona smiled at him.

He got up from his stool, pulled out his wallet "no, it's on the house, my dear" he smiled "thanks!" nodding at her before making his way back to her parents house....

Chapter 17

@secretaryunpaid​ @aussieez @munstysmind​​ @palmaviolet​​ @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer​​ @rookiemartin​​ @deandreamernp​​ @leigh70​​ @reallyloudstudent​​ @peonierose​​ @pixie-b​​

[wizkiddx]

supercluster

this is my entry for @hollandsrecs 'toms birthday fanfic fest' event - go check it out!!! I know its a early but im v bored so have it now. also im acc kinda really proud of this one, any feedback would be v appreciated 🤍

the prompt was: 'you and tom are best friends and you tell him that you love him on his birthday'

summary: its toms birthday but he has a few things to get off his chest and into the night sky, y/n joins in with a bit of a revelation too

best friends -> lovers

warnings: mentions of alcohol, bit angsty but promise ends all fluffy and a shit tonne of dialogue

wc: 3.5k ishhh

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Everything got a little too wild and stuffy in the living area, Haz and Harry screaming sweet caroline, whilst Greg (Tom’s stunt man) was pouring *another* round of shots. The sweatiness and clamminess of the room meant Y/n took a moment to escape, sliding out the double doors, and closing them softly behind her to ensure no one would notice her little escape. Something about the midnight air, the slightly dewy smell of the neighbouring fields, felt like it was refreshing Y/n from the inside out. When she turned around, back facing the fancy rented house, she was slightly shocked by Tom standing in the garden. It was his birthday party after all. In all honesty, Y/n felt a bit guilty she hadn’t noticed he wasn’t in the thick of it with his brothers and castmates.

His silhouette was set against the clear night sky, the stars extra prominent this evening and the moon casting a soft glow off the left side of his face, exaggerating the natural contours of his jawline and cheekbones. Clearly, he was enraptured by the sky, staring up at it with a thoughtful look on his face.

And Y/n recognised that look instantly; she knew what he was doing.

In fact, he had taught her to do precisely the same thing. As kids, the Hollands, Y/n’s family and another two families from the local area all went camping together. It was an annual event, ‘the Kingston collective camping adventure’ as Dom had named it. Y/n couldn’t remember a year when they hadn’t gone actually - it was that much of a tradition.

One year, though, when she and Tom were about 9, her mothers’ due date coincided with the camping dates. So, sensibly, the decision had been made that Y/n and her brother would just be looked after by the Hollands - whilst her mum and dad were safely tucked up in bed at home, awaiting the arrival of her littlest brother.

Y/n, her brother Alex, and Tom were all sharing a tent, and it must’ve been at least midnight that Tom was awoken by shuffling and zipping up of the tent. He’d realised she was gone through sleepy eyes and, without a second thought, went to go find her. Sure enough, she wasn’t far away, not even 50 metres from the tent, crouched on the grass. Immediately Tom’s presence had been noticed, making Y/m quickly snivel and wipe her face.

“Are you upset?”

“Go away Tom.” The comment didn’t do a lot, though; instead, 9-year-old Tom had planted himself down next to her - his pyjamas getting wet on the moist grass floor.

“Are you missing Auntie Sarah and Uncle Mike?” In the same way that Y/n called Nikki and Dom auntie and uncle, the Holland boys mirrored the nicknames for her parents. Y/n replied with a long sigh before hiccuping, failing to control the stream of tears. Yes, he was right - this was her first night away from her parents- but she wasn't about to spill her heart out to the 'stupid boy' who had stolen one of her marshmallows that evening. Tom’s little brown eyes swelled, looking slightly terrified and out of his depth, whilst with all his 9 years of wisdom, trying to come up with an answer.

“Do you want to play football to forget about it?”

Unsurprisingly Y/n shook her head violently. Tom cursed inwardly at himself for saying the wrong thing, apparently football wasn't the answer to everything. The two children went back to silence until Tom had the metaphorical light bulb moment. “My mum told me something for when I got to sleepovers? Look!” He grabbed Y/n’s little hand, extending it upwards towards the night sky.

“No matter where you are, you’re all looking at the same stars too, right?”

Tom jumped a little before looking over his shoulder and recognising Y/n with the softest smile that grew across his face. Y/n slowly walked to his side, arms crossed over her chest to try and keep the cold at bay, joining Tom in staring up at the starry expanse.

“How do you always know?” Tom spoke in a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. It was true, she did always know - but his question was somewhat irrelevant. They'd spent most their childhood together, they were as easy to read as a children’s book to each other.

“Missing home?”

“Sort of, I got my own slice of home with the boys and-and you but… pads, mum dad yeh, feel like on your birthday your always supposed to see your family.”

Although Harry, Harrison, Sam and Y/n had managed to fly out to surprise Tom on his birthday- prior commitments meant his parents and youngest brother hadn’t been able to make it. They four arrived yesterday, greeted by a very shocked and pretty emotional Tom - who had clearly been missing the sense of home somewhat. He’d been away shooting a film, then straight away launching into press for the next spiderman movie. It had been a long while since he’d been in London - half a year in fact.

This time too, he’d been away without a single family member or friend - that was another truth he’d learnt about growing up. Your friends and family, they all get lives of their own. Tom used to be a trailblazer, the first to get a job, the one everyone was super proud of. They still were, of course, but didn’t dote on him in quite the same way - everyone had their own shit to deal with. It was yet another reason Tom wasn’t welcoming his birthday as much as he usually would.

“Your parents did always spoil you rotten.”

“They spoilt you worst and you’re not technically their kid.” Y/n rolled her eyes, even if it might slightly true - muttering a ‘touche’ at the brown-haired boy next to her. Their families had always been close; naturally the adults seemed to gravitate more to the kids that weren’t their own. The ones who you could ‘give back’ at the end of the day. It just so happened Nikki and Dom had always loved having Y/n around, maybe a bit more than anyone else.

“Have you had a good birthday then? You should be in there with Greg pouring that shitty vodka down your throat.” Y/n questioned, whilst shrugging back toward the house, the dull thump of Jacob's playlist just audible. Still, both stared upwards, standing close enough that their upper arms were both pressed up against each other. She expected a jovial answer, but even from his tone, it was evident there was something up. He sounded…weary?

“I’m bloody glad you all came...don’t get me wrong, I love Z and Jacob and everyone but….”

“Shitty week?”

“Shitty birthday week of promo and press.” Tom scathed, and Y/n nodded. Even if she couldn’t understand what was so bad about press, she knew that Tom hated it passionately. And in the same way, he loved all his castmates dearly, but they hadn’t known him his whole life. They didn’t understand why he did every little thing; their values lay just that bit apart. It just wasn’t the same as being surrounded with his family - you and Harrison adopted Hollands too.

“I just feel like I’ve spent all week trapped in a room answering the most stupid, irrelevant and inconsequential questions... Everything’s just so surface level and fake and, and I-“He cut himself off, for the first time meeting Y/n’s eyes. In all honesty, Tom got a bit caught up in the stars reflecting off her piercing y/e/c eyes before changing tack.

“Will you do me a favour?”

This wasn’t spoken with the normal Tom tone. It wasn’t joking or jovial; it wasn’t an ‘off the tongue’ thing. This was spoken with such seriousness and gravitas coming from his deep voice that Y/n replied equally truthfully.

“Always T, you know that.”

“Will you please ask me a personal and serious and deep question?”

She got where he was coming from too.

Clearly, even though the evening was supposed to be a light piss up in celebration, it had instead unearthed some darker thoughts that Tom had been harbouring away. Perhaps he never even realised he needed such seriousness, or perhaps with his castmates he hadn’t felt comfortable exposing himself like that. Either way, Y/n was going to respect him now. It was technically his birthday, too; the clocks had already struck 12 - it was now his day.

It wasn’t tricky to think of one; she’d often wondered the same question of him - never with the opportunity to ask. The question popped into her head again, almost as soon as Tom asked for one.

“Okay…. What’s your deepest regret that makes you feel guilty for feeling because in the grand scheme of things, it minor? Like such a 'first world problem'." What do you regret that’s just completely selfish?”

Tom immediately stiffened, his jaw tensing as he worked through his thoughts in his head. Scared she’d pushed it too far, Y/n averted her gaze back to the sky, chewing her bottom lip slightly. It took a moment, but then she saw Tom turn towards her, in the peripheries of her vision. With a tightly closed-lip smirk on his face he joked “If your gonna ask questions like that, we better sit down.”

And so they did, both sitting crossed legged on the ground, knees brushing against each other. Just on the grass lawn, almost mirroring themselves all those years ago as kids in that camping site. Y/n wondered if she should offer to play football instead - to cheer him up.

“Missing out. I miss out months at a time. Miss out on seeing mum and dad, miss out on the pub quizzes with the boys, miss out seeing you… I mean, I didn’t even know you had a new job until you mentioned it this morning. I miss out on time with nana Tess and all my grandparents, and that’s scary cos… well, every time I go, it could be the last time… I don’t know, I just… I get so much, get to travel, to see the world, but… sometimes it feels like I’m sacrificing the foundations. And without the foundations….”

“The walls come crumbling down.” Y/n finished off his sentence quietly, barely whispering the words - but from Tom’s nod of agreement, it seemed like she’d hit the nail on the head. There was silence for a beat till Y/n whispered to him.

“Well, happy birthday to you” Trying to bring the mood up a little, she bumped his shoulder, and Tom chuckled breathily.

“Seriously! This is helping me out. I-I just need to get everything out and start my 25th year fresh.”

“Hey, if that’s all you want, I’m getting a refund on my present- we can just get deep and interview each other.”

“I’m game, except I’m keeping the present too.”

“Just because it’s your birthday and I’m a bit tipsy, I’ll allow it.”

“Okay, well then, Y/n L/n”, He spoke formally, leaning in closer and making her giggle a little. “What’s your biggest regret?”

“Honestly?” Tom just repeated her in reply, but this time it was a statement.

"Honestly."

He really was going deep too. No holding back now. Y/n sucked on her cheek before replying. “Not travelling with you when we were 19… I was just so determined to get to uni and start grown-up life, but… well, grown-up life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I should’ve tried to stay a kid longer, messing about on your film sets and pretending it was work. I think I would’ve learnt more from seeing the world with you.”

“Well, I am very knowledgable.”

“Shut up, you drop out- who didn't know what a drag race was.” She wasn’t wrong, and whilst yes, he had dropped out to be a film star - he was still a dropout. (with exceptionally poor knowledge of RuPaul) He scowled, then leaning back on his hands, so he was half reclined on the grass as Y/n thought of her next question.

“Whats your biggest worry?”

“Easy.” He chuffed, making Y/n furrow her brows at him. Clearly, he’d already thought of this. “That I finally settle down with the love of my life, and then the fans or press or paps ruin it.”

It made sense; every time Tom had gone public with a relationship, it had ended in a minor car crash. Typically it was also the girl who got hurt; she was the ‘victim’ in everything. Though Y/n had seen first hand the effect it had had on Tom - he never made it out damage-free.

“You make it sound like you’ve already got this dream girl queued and waiting.”

“I wish”, Tom sighed, as Y/n took the opportunity to completely lie down on the grass, staring up at the dark abyss. She’d always loved the stars and had become a bit of a geek on them as they’d grown up too- and maybe it was all down to Tom on that camping trip. Following suit, Tom copied her, his head resting on his hands that were crossed behind his head, taking in the moment of pure peace as they lay on the grass.

“You see that bright one there?” Pointing up, Y/n shimmied closer to him so that he definitely saw the same thing as her. “It’s actually not one. Look closer.” Humming, Tom shifted a bit closer, so her shoulder slotted under the side of his body just the teeniest bit. It meant he could follow her direction and squinted up at the little patch of the sky.

“ 5…maybe 6? What is it?”

“The pliedes supercluster…. basically a big group of stars that all were born from the same place- the same stellar nursery.”

“But they’re moving now?” She hummed in confirmation to his question, briefly glancing at the way his eyes were fixed on the sky. For the first time he seemed genuinely interested in hearing her stories of the stars. It usually was an eye roll and ‘you’re so lame’.

“They’re called the sibling stars… like everything in life, as they get older they drift apart but…. but to us down here? They’ll always be associated together because they have a gravitational effect on each other. They’ll always have their thing tying them together. Like an invisible string.”

“Sounds like you’re being metaphorical.” Tom chuckled, expecting a taunt back but receiving nothing except a gentle agreement.

“Theres also actually 7. The last one people can only sometimes see… it’s a pulsing star, so comes and goes.”

“They do that?”

“Yeh, and no matter what… if you can see it or not, it’s always there. Always having an impact on its family.”

Biting his lower lip slightly, Tom repositioned his head slightly, Y/n’s words taking time to be fully absorbed. He was sure she was making parallels to him. Barely there, appearing and disappearing, but always a part of the family.

“You are being metaphorical.”

“Maybe.” She whispered shortly. “Metaphors depend on who’s listening and if they draw parallels to their own life. It’s subjective. You can’t tell anyone what is and isn’t metaphor…. it takes the beauty out of it.”

“Right, sure... But if you were…. me, harry, Sam, pads, you, Haz, Tuwaine? That the 7?” Y/n held back the little smile at his words. Tom wasn’t as ‘head in the clouds’ as she was- he was literal. Also, he was bloody stubborn when he wanted to be.

“I wasn’t being metaphorical T.” He knew she was lying. She knew that he knew. But it still helped him, made him feel a bit better. That he was always, in some way, having some effect... lives always intertwined with the people he cared about the most.

“Tell me another story about another star.”

Time for the rest of the night kind of got lost. The two young adults just lay on the grass, entirely in their own little world, using each others body heat to keep themselves warm through the early hours. Neither felt remotely tired, Y/n whispering her little stories of both the myths and science of the old stars, pointing out each planet. Meanwhile, Tom listened in awe, for once not taking the mick out of her incredibly geeky hobby. Instead, he found himself getting fascinated by all the little intricacies Y/n was so passionate about.

It was only when the stars began to fade, as orangey-red hue started to seep up from the horizon the either noticed the time. It was now the morning of the next day, the house long since had turned silent behind them - presumably, everyone finally passing out shit faced.

As the stars’ light was overtaken by the rising sun, Y/n ran out of stories; the two settled into silence - neither quite ready to go to bed yet.

“It’s still my turn,” Tom spoke into the sky before pivoting his head to look Y/n in the eye, seeing the confusion in her furrowed brows. “It’s my question to ask. My turn.”

“Aren’t you sick of my voice yet?” There was absolutely no reason that they were both whispering. It wasn’t like anyone was trying to listen or that they’d disturb anyone else my talking normally. But it was nicer that way. It felt calming... intimate even.

“One more. And then you get one more… and then we really should probably go to bed.” He didn’t want the night to end; he was immensely enjoying this weird grey time between being 25 and 26. But it was cold, Tom could tell Y/n had started to feel it a little more. To be fair, she was only in a floral day dress, not much in the way of warmth. With a hum of agreement, Y/n smiled lightly at him, urging his question.

“Whats the biggest secret you’ve kept from me?”

With a bit of a scoff, Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, trying to draw some strength she wasn’t sure she had. It wasn’t like she needed to wrack her brains to come up with it - she knew instantly. Almost painfully too.

“Uhm, honestly?” Now even more intrigued, Tom nodded, using his foot for nudge hers - encouraging her to speak. “Probably how much you mean to me.”

“Oh” He couldn’t help it; the sound just slipped out his mouth without checking with his brain first. That answer had just been so unexpected. He had honestly been thinking that it would be something about how ‘fame had changed him’. After hearing that, Y/n turned her head up the sky again, feeling like her cheeks were on fire with embarrassed heat. Tom knew he had fucked up.

“No, I… I didn’t mean- just just ask me too.” With a sigh, Y/n waved off his stumbled answer as he tried to cover himself.

“This is stup-“

“Ask me!” For the first time in 5 hours, Tom spoke at an normal volume - but it felt painfully loud, like a shout.

“What’s the biggest secret you kept from me?” Her tone was defeated, but nevertheless, he answered.

“How upset I was when you didn’t come when we were 19. I got why, but it was still annoying. Felt like you were picking uni friends over me-“ At this point on any other evening, Y/n would have interjected and argued. None of this situation was normal, though, so she chose to hear him out. “- I know it’s stupid, but…. I guess that’s how much you meant an-and still mean to me too.”

There was silence for a couple minutes, waiting whilst the sun started to peep over the horizon, the lone witness to an otherwise very private conversation. That was until Y/n barely spoke, more like mouthed 2 simple words.

“I lied.” The intensity of the way Tom stared at her made Y/n wish that the sun hadn’t been so bright, that they were back in the darkness that hid her face more. “Biggest lie I’ve told you … that I’m not in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t see because she couldn’t face looking at him, but Tom’s face erupted into the most prominent, toothiest smile. Whilst Tom was enjoying the moment of being absolutely ecstatic, Y/n was waiting for a response- feeling her world come crashing in. That she'd just destroyed one of the most important friendships in her life too.

But then he said the opposite of what she thought he would.

“I lied too.”

That had her attention, whipping her head toward him as Tom rolled onto his side on the lawn, balancing with his head resting on one hand. “I lied that I’ve not been completely under your spell since we were kids at that campsite, and you were homesick.”

Y/n’s heart was literally in her mouth, brain overwhelmed but one overriding thought oh so bloody clear.

She’d lost control of everything, arching up to mirror Tom. Using one hand, she reached out to cup Tom’s jaw, to which he instinctively leant toward - until their lips were mere centimetres apart, hot breath fanning over each other.

Y/n no control as she whispered those 3 words against his lips. No control at how immediately after he pressed his to hers; no control as Tom guided her to roll on top of him, knees either side of his torso as his strong arms wrapped around her back.

Once again, time was lost between the two, only pulling apart when their lungs burned for oxygen.

“For the record, I love you too.” Grinning from ear to ear, Tom used one hand to gently stroke his thumb across her cheek, switching his focus from her left to right eye - in wonder at how the early morning sun reflected from her y/e/c irises. He’d always thought she was beyond beautiful, but when she was this close to him, with the sun rising behind her in such a way - she looked damn ethereal.

“Happy birthday T.” Nodding in agreement, Tom chuckled before finding her lips once again, whispering against them.

“Yeh, happy damn birthday to me.”

~~~~let me know what you think ;) ~~~~~

tagging: @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove @crossyourpeter