#and after that she'd only play more of it out of obligation. and her only priority would be finishing it as quickly as possible

[mapis-putellas]

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Alexia was sprawled across the couch, her head resting comfortably on your lap, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The TV was on, but neither of you was paying much attention to it. You had one hand absently stroking her hair while the other lightly traced shapes on her back beneath her hoodie.

It had been a long day for her with both training and media duties, but now she looked perfectly at peace, her eyes half-closed, her breathing steady, almost as though she was only second away to succumbing to sleep. You smiled to yourself as you shifted your fingers just slightly, drawing the shape of a heart between her shoulder blades.

"Guess," you murmured softly, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Alexia's brow furrowed, her lips curving into a faint smile as she tilted her head to look up at you. "Mmm... un círculo?"

You snorted, shaking your head. "No, it was a heart, silly. Pay attention."

Her smile widened, but she didn't open her eyes. "Lo siento," she mumbled lazily, pressing a kiss to your thigh. "Try again?"

You rolled your eyes fondly and began to trace another shape. This time, you drew a star, your fingers gliding lightly over the warm skin of her back.

"Guess," you prompted again, glancing down at her.

Alexia stayed silent for a moment, then hummed. "Hmm... una flor?"

"Alexia," you groaned playfully, flicking the back of her head lightly. "You're not even trying!"

She chuckled, her voice low and a little raspy. "I like it when you do this. Why guess?"

"Because it's a game," you countered, drawing an imaginary line down her spine and watching her shiver beneath your touch. "And you're supposed to play along."

She turned her head slightly, peeking up at you with a small pout. "But I like when you tickle my back."

You laughed softly. "Okay, how about this? If you guess properly, I promise I'll keep tickling your back afterwards. Deal?"

She seemed to consider this, her lips pursing slightly before she nodded. "Vale," she agreed, settling her head back down on your lap.

"Good," you said, your fingers moving again. This time, you wrote the word "love" in English, carefully tracing each letter.

Alexia shifted a little beneath your touch, clearly paying attention now. When you finished, she was silent for a moment before turning her head to look up at you.

"'Love'?" she guessed.

You beamed at her, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. "Yes! See? That wasn't so hard."

Her lips twitched in a satisfied smile as she nestled her head against your lap again. "Okay, otra vez."

You obliged, this time drawing a simple smiley face on her back.

She laughed softly. "Easy. Una cara feliz."

"Correct," you said, grinning as your fingers started another pattern. You kept the game going, drawing hearts, stars, and even letters. Alexia guessed most of them right, and when she didn't, it was because she was deliberately trying to prolong the moment.

After a while, you leaned forward slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You're cute, you know that?"

Alexia tilted her head back to look at you, eyes warm and full of affection. "Tú más," she said simply.

You laughed softly, tracing one last word on her back: "forever."

"Para siempre," she murmured without hesitation, her voice quiet but certain.

Your heart swelled as she turned her body slightly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You slip an arm beneath her neck and shoulders, hoisting her up a little so more or her torso was resting in your lap and her head was resting against your chest.

Just like you promised, you slip your hand back beneath her hoodie and begin grazing your fingers up and down her back. You feel her exhale of content through the material of your shirt, and you knew she'd be asleep in just a matter of moments.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @wileys-russo @mead-iocre @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[averycutesalamander]

finished the 2.6 story and promptly blacked out and wrote this in a feverish haze. minor gore warning (it's really mild but still). also this is up on ao3 if that's your preference. comments always appreciated but not obligated 💕 xoxo love yall

Boothill tries not to sleep very often. 

He doesn't particularly need to, either; he can get away with around a dozen hours every week if he pushes himself – which he often does. The only time he sleeps with any consistency is when he's with you, in the interim between his long journeys away. 

He doesn't often have pleasant dreams, but when he does, it's always when he's sleeping by your side. His particular favorite is an impossibility, as dreams so often are. 

He's back on Aeragan-Epharshel, playing with Clementine. She's a bit older, now – around ten. She's still just as sunny as she always was – though he hasn't quite managed to get her to stop tugging on his hair; perhaps he should be content with her progress so far, considering that she never pulls hard anymore. He's outside with her on a blessedly warm fall day, painting stones with the pigments you made by hand; the holidays are a few months off, and Clementine wants to paint customized stones for everyone she can think of, aunts and uncles included. (She told him very decisively that she'd make his rock on her own. It has to be a surprise, obviously.) He'd argue that her painting is far better than his, but he still makes one for you – a messy collage of your favorite colors on a shiny black stone, forming a smeared mimicry of the night sky. 

When she tires of that, he hauls her up onto his shoulders and heads inside to badger you, disturbing your reading. You banter; you chat; you help Clem clean up, then dot her little forehead with kisses until she laughs – that sweet, warm laugh, like the chime of a bell. After that, he helps you out with dinner, the aroma of casserole filling the entire house. Clem lingers by your feet, clinging to your pants as you chop vegetables plucked from the garden that morning. She looks up at you with those dewy doe eyes, pouting dramatically until you relent and give her small chunks of veggies; you're so used to her habit of begging like a dog for scraps that you bring out a little more vegetables than you need every time. He watches on with a tender, lovestruck smile, perfectly content. 

When he woke up from that dream, it was to the silence of your bedroom, his eyes burning and his chest aching something fierce. He looked down at your sleeping form sprawled over his body, your limbs tangled and your face soft with sleep. With his hands shaking slightly, he shifted to hold you just a little tighter against him, savoring your weight, your warmth, your smell.

That dream will never be a reality, but at least he can fulfill some morsel of it. 

It's rare for him to be so fortunate as to have sweet, peaceful dreams like that one – despite the irreconcilable yearning they're tainted with. Most dreams – such as the one he's having right now – are not so pleasant. 

Smoke clogs the air, so thick that it burns his lungs. Flames press in on all sides, licking at his heels, searing his skin. The smell of death, of burnt hair and flesh, of ash and misery, is so oppressive that he feels like he's suffocating under the weight. A cacophony of screaming echoes from all around him, cannon fire bursting in his eardrums, but through the noise, he hears it – the shrieking wail of a child in pain, piercing straight through his heart. 

He's running, clamoring through the fire, stumbling over the rubble of destroyed homes and corpses whose roasted, blistering hands grasp uselessly at his ankles, their croaking voices begging him for help; his instincts urge him to obey, to haul them out of the fire and carry them to safety, to tend to the wounds of his family – but he knows in his heart that there's no use. There is no safety here, nowhere to bring them, no way to treat burns so fierce that they've bared bone and sinew. 

But there's a dash of hope in his heart, because that girl's crying is so clear, so crisp – he must be close. Yet no matter which way he turns, no matter how fast he runs, no matter how far he sprints into the carnage, he can't find her. Her cries turn sharper, more anguished; she sobs his name, pleading, begging, but her voice only seems to be getting further away. His chest heaves, his tears evaporating from his eyes before they can spill, his flesh melting from his bones in a slurry of fat and muscle. Why can't he find her? Where is she? Why did it come to this? Why, why, why–

“It's okay, bee.” 

A soft voice echoes in the back of his head, nearly muffled by the deafening noise battering him from all sides. He collapses to his knees, completely spent, his whole body disintegrating into ash. He's burning, he's burning, but so is Clem – he can hear her screaming, louder and louder, piercing clean through his skull. He has to find her, he has to get up, he has to–

“Wake up, honey. It's okay. I've got you.”

The voice is a little louder now, and it feels like his body cools slightly, like the flames have been slightly dampened – but a moment later, they roar back to life with a vengeance. This can't be happening; this can't be real. He can't– 

“Wake up.”

He jerks awake with a gasp, his whole body shaking like a leaf. He can hear your voice in his ear, your arms wrapped tight around him, his head nestled against your chest as you slowly rock him back and forth. He's already clinging to you, arms locked around your waist, but he pulls you in even tighter, desperate for an anchor. His breathing skips as he sobs, not a tear to be found, his body aching with phantom pain.

It takes a few moments for him to even process your words. “You're alright,” you murmur softly, stroking tenderly through his hair, your other hand tracing soothing circles into his shoulder. “Shh, shh. It's okay.” 

Mindlessly, stupidly, he blubbers your name, nearly incomprehensible in his distress. 

“I'm right here, baby. I've got you.” You tighten your hold slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Breathe with me, sunshine. Can you do that?”

You take a deep, slow breath, your heart beating steadily in his ear. On instinct, he mimics you, his lungs stuttering in his chest. The air of your exhale tickles his hair, and his own warms your skin, taking with it a bit of his tension. Inhale, exhale; slowly, his hydraulics begin to relax. Inhale, exhale; his hands grow a bit steadier, his palms flattening against your back. Inhale, exhale; he swallows heavily, the fear bleeding out of his veins. 

The two of you stay like that for some time, your breathing keeping him grounded, letting him clear his mind. “I'm… I'm sorry,” he rasps, so soft that it's nearly muffled by your skin. 

You shush him softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, honeybee.”

He doesn't even have the energy to rebuke you; as the terror flees his body, exhaustion rushes in to fill the gaps. After a moment, he murmurs, “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'm okay.”

He can practically feel the gentle, concerned furrow of your brow. “Are you sure? I don't mind staying up to talk with you, if that'll make it easier.” 

He shakes his head, burrowing a bit further into your chest. “You're helpin’ just by bein' here, honey.” Slowly, he begins to rub circles into your back, just as you're doing to him. “This is just fine.”

He can sense your hesitation, can hear it in the beat of your heart. He lifts his head to kiss your collarbones, shamelessly savoring the scent of your skin. 

“I'm okay,” he whispers. “Just get some rest for me, sugar.” 

You're silent for a beat before finally sighing, your body relaxing against him. “If you say so.” You lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Promise you'll wake me up if you want company, alright?” 

He smiles, a tender, shaky little thing, then presses his ear to your chest. “Sure thing, pumpkin.”

Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for you to drift back into a light sleep, your breathing deepening, your heart slowing next to his ear. Your natural rhythm soothes him so efficiently that he might've fallen back asleep if he weren't actively trying to stay awake. He distracts himself by stewing over your plans for tomorrow, how he'll spend his precious time with you. 

He'll make you breakfast in the morning, he decides – though he'll have to be careful not to disturb you. He always loves watching you wake up, and he's sure it'll be even better if it's to a fresh plate of food. 

Yeah, he thinks, his lip quirking fondly as he nuzzles into you a bit more firmly. That'll be good.

[halfway-happyyy]

sunday morning vignettes {frank castle}

who doesn't love a little morning sex? felt inspired to whip this up. it's short and sweet, and slightly smutty.

"I like my scrambled eggs and bacon, served by someone that I love." - 'give me that simple life', lorez alexandria

Her favourite mornings were the ones where she awoke to the feeling of his gaze already on her. When she couldn't be sure if he'd just woken up or if he'd been watching her for a while. She had asked him once why he did it, and after a long period of silence, he simply murmured - “I'm trying to memorize every inch of you just in case…” he never told her what the just in case was, but she knew. 

She turned on her side to view him fully, and decided that she liked him best like this. Alive, and warm, and so strong, next to her. She reached forward to trace a fingertip down the crooked bridge of his nose, and watched him smile into her touch. 

“You're something else, you know that?” she asked. 

Frank scoffed. “Somethin’ else is right. More rough road than man, most days. Don't know why you stick around, sometimes.” 

It hurt her heart to hear him speak that way about himself but she forced a smile regardless. 

“I think it’s mostly because you make a mean kimchi fried rice.”

The laughter that rumbled from him was low and warm, the mere sound of it akin to her favourite song. 

His brown irises glittered brilliantly in the warm sunlight pouring through their bedroom window, and she noticed that they were a lighter shade of umber than normal; his biggest tell that he was content. 

“Your mama ever tell ya it was rude to stare?” He simpered. 

“Course she did. But she also had an affinity for devastatingly handsome men, so I think she'd give me a pass.” 

They let the silence collect between them before she confessed that she wanted him. She was playing it coy. It was absolutely more of a need than a want, but she was sure he already knew that. 

He happily obliged her, shifting her onto her side, and easing himself to the hilt inside of her. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, and stayed anchored in her for longer than usual, reveling in the feeling of her all-encompassing warmth. Reveling in the notion that like this, they were two halves of a whole entity. 

“Missed this, baby.” 

So did she. He could be gone a day, a week, or months on end, and it would never take her long to miss the closeness. They fit together like he was made for her, and on mornings like this, she truly believed that he was. 

She reckoned she could live in this moment for the rest of her life; the sharp sting of being fully filled by him, blunted by the repeated brush of his lips against her neck. There was the person she was when Frank wasn't around, and then there was the person she was now - her favourite version of herself. She had no choice but to bloom like a flower under his devotion. 

His hand snaked around the front of her body, to the spot just below her belly where it rested while he continued fucking into her. 

He gently pressed down against her and whispered, “God, I can feel myself right in here,” The pressure was enough to cause a string of nonsensical curse words to spill from her slack mouth. “You take me so well, sweetheart… feels so damn good.” 

She knew then that she wasn't long for this particular world; could tell by the pleasure unraveling deep in her belly like a ball of yarn out of control. She tightrope walked the precipice of her release, knowing Frank would be the one to get her there. 

“You're close, sweetheart,” His husky voice as it traveled across her neck and left goosebumps in its wake, caused her to tremble against him. “and I want you to let go when you're ready. Want you to give it all to me, yeah?” 

She nodded earnestly, for the only sound she was capable of making was a desperate, mewling whimper. 

“Attagirl- that's it, keep going. Breathe through it with me, and ride it out. Feel everything.” 

More often than not, his voice and the words that flowed along with it, was the catalyst for her orgasms. This morning was no exception. She felt every inch of his cock as it moved inside of her, and suddenly she stilled against him, arched her back, and came around him with a series of breathless, high-pitched sighs. 

“Jesus,” Frank groaned, as he continued fucking her through it. “So beautiful like this, sweetheart.” 

She couldn't speak; could only focus on the delicious push-and-pull of him inside of her - so good it bordered on painful - “want you to come for me, Frank.” 

He didn't have to be asked twice. He pressed a last scorching kiss to the nape of her neck and stilled against her, allowing the waves of his orgasm to consume him whole. He stayed pressed against her long after he'd finished, and when he did eventually pull away, she felt his loss keenly. 

“Is it strange that I only feel completely whole when we're together like that?” She breathed. 

Frank waited a beat before kissing the rounded curve of her shoulder. 

“No, because I feel the same way.” 

While he drifted back into a shallow sleep, she rose for the day, in search of caffeine and some food. She settled on bacon and eggs, queued up her current favourite playlist, and got to work. It didn't take long for the scent of percolating coffee and frying bacon to rouse Frank, and he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wordlessly. 

“Hello, you.” She turned to beam at him from her stance in front of the stove. 

He pushed himself from the doorway to wrap his arms around her. 

“Hi, baby.” 

She gestured to their small wooden table. “Go sit down, hm? I'll make you a plate.” 

He pecked at her cheek and did as he was told. 

When she went over to pass him his plate, he caught her wrist in his hand. “I know I don't say it enough, but I wanted you to know that I love you, sweetheart. In case the sky falls on our head.” 

She caressed a palm to his cheek and smiled. “Love you too, Frank.” 

Love you always.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Do you have any professor Wanda thoughts?

Oh, absolutely I do!!! (me blushing bc i have a hot professor rn)

She wears glasses when she's reading from the board or flipping through the required text, and you love the way her hair looks when she slides them up to rest on top of her head

The first day of class, she came wearing a tight cream turtleneck with layered necklaces and brown slacks with boots, and you fell in love instantly

She always wears a lot of rings, and you find yourself getting even more distracted during class, since she talks with her hands

You make any excuse to talk to her after class, asking a lot of questions about the required readings or assignments, until she just smiles warmly at you and tells you to come to her office hours while resting a solid hand on your shoulder

You think her office is decorated perfectly, all autumn colors and plants lining the bookshelves and window, a large desk in the middle of the room with papers strewn over it neatly

You're awkward at first, but eventually you find yourself sprawling on her couch as the semester wears on

Wanda fucks you over the large desk in her office one time, and you can never look at it the same again

She seduces you slowly, pressing her thigh against yours while she went over the textbook, her hand brushing yours when you created flash cards together for the midterm

It wasn't until one late evening, when the rest of the staff had left for the day and campus was basically dead, that Wanda finally made a move on you

You'd looked up at her so happily when you got a practice question right, that she couldn't help but kiss you

Your relationship only grows stronger from there, as it was your last semester of college, and Wanda was a relatively young professor (still older than you though, which you teased her often about)

After you graduate, you move in with her, having found a job in the neighboring city next to your University, and you spend your weekends reading with her, your hand tangling with her hair as she idly scratches your back

Wanda's favorite role play is Professor x Student, and you happily oblige, the knowledge that you'd lived out this fantasy only making it all the more exciting

One time, you eat her out beneath her desk, her glasses fogging as she desperately tries to focus on grading assignments (She gives everyone an A on the assignment, claiming she'd misplaced the papers, but you knew it was because she'd crumpled them up and smeared red ink on them in the throes of ecstasy)

Anyways, you live happily ever after being academic nerds ♡

[akutasoda]

“the longer you wait, the closer you get to suffocating”

--love wasn't necessary to be a stoneheart, and so he buried it deep beneath facade's. so far below that he couldn't recognise the signs of love even when they were staring right at him.

--warnings - gn!reader, angst no comfort(?), some fluff, unknowingly pining??, maybe ooc, wc - 1.8k

--a/n: i think im allergic to making him happy :/ anyway i feel like this is kind of rushed but rrghhh (shouts to the amazing @mitsvriii and @theother-victoria for proofreading)

aventurine never loved.

the stoneheart never knew the embrace of a loved one, soft-spoken genuine words, or even what it was to even recognise the signs. love was a foreign concept. something that wasn't needed in the world of contracts and lies, it was something that could be used against you, to punish someone foolish enough to think with their heart and not their brain.

he didn't need it anyway. in some distant past of golden sands and gleaming smiles, love was common. childlike wonder and affection was exchanged between families and those considered family, but that didn't last long. scorching flames rained down upon them, loved ones buried beneath the serene sands and forgotten.

the love made it hard to let go. traumatic to watch as every single person the boy cared for succumbed to pain and death's cold embrace, his tears did nothing. they didn't convince those that started the massacre to stop, to spare even one shred of the boy's livelihood because they didn't have love. the massacre was only a means to an end - emotional attachments were insignificant.

the scars never healed, the sights were forever engraved into the young avgins mind. the only time he could really dwell on them however was in the rare moments of silence he had. from his life as a young avgin to his life as a stoneheart, at every step and every turn something happened to him.

for someone blessed with luck, it never felt like it. they say that the end justifies the end, but he would prefer the end never arrived if he had to go through all the suffering and misfortune to get there. it was as if his luck only worked if he went through mental turmoil and struggle beforehand.

no matter what he lost, it all turned out for him in the long run. but was losing everything he had worth the luck that allowed him to live on with those memories?

---✩

you'd met through mutual acquaintances, those who weren't as afraid to let people into their lives - namely topaz.

he'd caught a glimpse of you with topaz as he roamed the halls of one of the IPC’s main buildings. naturally he was intrigued. aventurine had never seen you before and, judging from how close you and topaz were acting, you must have been of some importance to her.

topaz was approached by her colleague after you'd bid farewell a while ago. she had no obligation to actually tell him who you were, topaz liked maintaining a good work - life balance and you were a part of her personal life, aventurine was mainly a part of her work life. however, she obliged anyway, she trusted him more than the other stonehearts.

it was a short explanation, you were simply a friend of hers that she'd asked to stop by because work was piling up lately and topaz couldn't have seen you otherwise. topaz could see aventurines interest from a mile away, uncharacteristic coming from him, but she knew that he would play it off as a passing intrigue - still out of character in her opinion.

but topaz wasn't as blind as aventurine insisted he was and so perhaps she deliberately tried to ask you to visit her just before she knew aventurine was going to be around. she wasted no time in subtly introducing the two of you properly, before anyone knew it, you and aventurine proved to be an unrivaled match.

it was almost shocking how quickly you worked your way into the stonehearts life. developing a closer relationship than with anyone else aventurine knew - even topaz was shocked. soon it was like aventurine had known you since before he adopted such an identity.

you gave him a warmth that he could only dream of now. one that a previous form knew of well but now, it was a foreign concept. he couldn't recognise the signs, see what everyone else saw when you two were around each other. your constant affection was a clear sign that you were friends, but eventually somewhere along the line, that friendship blossomed into a longing for something more.

you tried subtle advances, hints and such to suggest a genuine interest in aventurine as something more. everything you laid down, he didn't pick up - if he did, he didn't show it.

however, aventurine was blind. a fool when it came to looking emotions in the face, unable to see the signs and pushing anything that bubbled to the surface as far down as possible. aventurine didn't need anything other than acquaintances or business partners - friends were a wild exception but even he sometimes denied it mentally.

everyone that knew it well enough knew, it was glaringly obvious. even to veritas as he watched the stoneheart perk up at the notification his phone showed him. undoubtedly a message from you, basing the assumption on how quickly he responded or how he smiled like a dumbstruck fool.

about half an hour ago, aventurine barged into the doctor's office and slumping down in his chair. ratio didn't care, too used to it by this point and too focused on the current problem that plagued his mind and caused him to work tirelessly to solve.

it was about ten minutes ago that aventurine resigned to his phone after ratio's lack of interaction with him - he sighed as the doctor clearly saw more interest in his equations. now, he was messaging you.

“any developments” ratio’s voice snapped aventurines head up from his phone, looking quizzically to the doctor

he paused “what do you mean?” slowly setting his phone down

now it was ratio's time to sigh “you and your obvious infatuation” pointing toward the stonehearts phone

“what? no.” a nervous laugh escaped him “acquaintances, that's all we are. you're thinking too much into this doctor”

to ratio, aventurine was clearly in denial. dismissing the situation at any given time and so he went back to his equation - it was more entertaining than fighting with aventurine’s denial.

“fine, forget i asked” ratio began to shift his entire attention away from the gambler. aventurine stared at the doctor for a bit too long

he could sense the other man's gaze and so ratio merely sighed “let me offer you some advice gambler”

aventurine almost wanted to laugh, veritas ratio offering him emotional advice. a rather comical situation in his opinion

“you have to put your heart out there, it may be broken but that's how you know you have one” ratio’s words halted him, staring almost wide eyed as the doctor retreated

maybe he should've taken that advice.

---✩

when aventurine was first assigned his mission for penacony, he immediately told you. there were no specific details involved, just that he was going away for a bit due to work and so wouldn't be around. it wasn't entirely uncommon for him to do so, and you merely acknowledged it and wished him well, a safe return even.

unfortunately, aventurine hadn't told you a key detail. he never planned to return. guilt consumed him when he didn't tell you, hearing you wish him well really set it in, but this was a choice he made. one that he was determined to not go back on.

as soon as opal gave him the whole mission brief, he knew what had to be done. accepting the mission meant accepting his fate, both him and opal were very aware. neither of them stopped aventurine however.

but aventurine didn't know how you'd react. he could guess that it wouldn't be well, seeing as barely anyone would react well to someone they cared about telling them that they planned to never return after a mission. so aventurine withheld his real intent in order to save you the trouble.

aventurine didn't want a fussy send off. admittedly the way he planned to go would be anything but quite or lowkey, but he knew that you'd try and stop him. to convince him to change his mind and find an alternative that would involve him seeing another day.

but you didn't know.

aventurine reciprocated your genuine smile when you wished him well before he finally left for penacony. that would be the last time he saw that smile.

---✩

penacony was flashy, he expected no less from the planet of festivities. bright lights, billboards, unique food on every corner and varieties of people. they would all be the witnesses to his planned spectacle, the more the merrier in his opinion.

he couldn't miss the way that his eyes lingered for a beat more than they should on certain stores. the products inside temporarily making his thoughts drift back to you, making a mental reminder to himself to buy it for you later but reminding himself that it would be pointless - although his subconscious would make him buy it and immediately sent it to you.

even in the chaos that was penacony and it's guests, you still found a way to wind up in his thoughts - bringing his thoughts about the mission to a temporary halt and having a moment of respite. brief memories flashing in his mind that made him stop and smile, the sentimentality getting to him.

but it wouldn't change his mind.

aventurine never allowed his emotions to get in the way of work. you wouldn't make an exception. he stopped caring for his own life ages ago, time and time again it was beaten into him and it was the only way he could've gotten this far.

emotions had never done anything but hurt him, caused him more pain than worth. he was no longer kakavasha. he was aventurine, one of the ten stonehearts and they valued results, not petty feelings. no business deal worked out when you let your heart get in the way.

no plan worked when every minute he was thinking about what could've been. aventurine was being dumb, you wouldn't love him. all those signals were simply you being a friend, nothing more - and he should be happy that you even saw him as such. aventurine shouldn't be wishing for more.

a heavy sigh escaped him as he snapped out of his thoughts. the lights at clock studios theme park seemed brighter, tauntingly so, as of they were out to mock him with happiness that could've been and yet he still chose the darkness of death. tucking his hand behind him, shaking, he stepped heavy steps toward the stage.

the show must go on.

---✩

it was cold.

pitch black endlessness illuminated by the symbol of nihilty’s form.

he looked down at his hands, shaking more than ever and he wasn't even putting his life on the line, then he looked up.

kakavasha.

had he died? were these the final moments of aventurine?

he'd soon learn they weren't. and as that emanator walked away, he realized that he lived. he failed. and yet, was it really a failure if he could see you one more time?

maybe, just maybe, he could finally own up to his feelings.

rest of the "series"

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[aardvaark]

leverage rewatch: s1e6 "the miracle job"

its cute that they're all being invited to sophie's plays apparently, though clearly it's not so much as invitation as it is an obligation lol. but it's cute she wants them there and they all go and try to pretend it was good. i mean, parker says "it was like a horror movie" lmao but that seems to be her attempt at praising it.

eliot saying that sophie's play was THE worst night of his life, including times he was actually tortured, is always hilarious to me.

the first maggie mention!! she's the one who calls nate to tell him that his priest friend paul is in hospital.

nate thinking he has to convince the team to take the case (since it's kinda a personal favor to a friend after all), but they're all very much in already! they're well and truly past needing to be convinced. and we're only at ep 6. compare this to the wedding job, ep 3, when nate doesn't want to take the job and they all (besides sophie) want to bail partway through.

eliot being excited to take hardison to face a gang. "let's get you out in some fresh air. get you off the computer. come on!". love that his argument is that getting into a fight would be good for hardison's health.

hardison: i rappelled! did no one see me rappel?? sophie: i heard about it. on the one hand she's saying that to soothe him, which seems sweet, but on the other hand, she's likely only doing that to encourage him to leave with eliot to face that gang lol. this season especially, many of her nice gestures tend to be either a little manipulative or shallow. which just makes sense - she's spent her life looking out only for herself, ultimately alone no matter how many people are around her. her default mode is to manipulate people into what she wants them to do, without even thinking about whether that's necessary or hurtful. it's just her job. it's gonna take a lot more than six episodes to change a lifetime of ingrained beliefs about other people and the world.

hardison gets to punch someone!! not only does he notice the guy's shoulder being off, he also knows it's dislocated, where nate just sad it was "messed up". i love seeing hardison apply his intelligence to problems outside hacking, cause it really goes to show how he's so quick-thinking and a genius in any situation.

for the record, gina bellman spent her early childhood in aotearoa, so i can only assume she's doing a decent job of the kiwi accent.

also i love when sophie looks all offended when the marks don't immediately play into her con lol, even though she's well aware this mark would likely brush her off - that's the whole point of setting up the elevator con. but she still makes this face like "uh! wowww, rude," lol.

who let parker choose the drugs to give this guy lmao?? like of course she laced them with speed, that's on the rest of the team for assuming she'd stick to just caffeine. when has she ever done anything by halves?

and that pays off a few mins later when nate says "parker, i need you to go to the hospital and keep father paul there no matter what [pause] up to a point" lol. he's learning. doesn't help that she has the most evil grin ever when he says that lmao.

and THEN it immediately turns out that parker took his words as permission to poke the priest with needles and take his blood. i wonder what she did with his blood...

hardison being able to make those fake statues too! he is ridiculously talented.

sophie having to remind nate that he never actually cheated on maggie is a little funny to me. and he's saying he was tempted and acting like he did something terrible and she's just like "dude i was there". but that scene's also so very bittersweet cause at this point she really is just waiting for him and here she tells him not to take too long, and, well...

i like how the actor playing this week's mark really takes the comic evil to its logical extreme. he looks feverish almost, in a frenzy. and the team has psychologically destroyed him and he's STILL coming up with new plans for bibletopia, probably the most capitalist hellscape christian-flavored invention imaginable. on that note, i also liked the priest and his arguments with nate, which you can tell comes from frustration with wanting to help a grieving, depressed friend who won't help himself. good guests this episode.

"it's the vatican" *parker, hardison & eliot immediately disappear*. i love the little implication there that they've each wronged the holy see at some point, enough to run off.

okay 1) the team using the confessional as a hiding spot, love it, and 2) parker refers to the confessional as "that closet" lol. apparently she knows that zeus is a god who strikes people down with lightning, but she doesn't know what a confessional is. i love how it's pretty much impossible to predict what things are within her realm of knowledge.

parker as an angel!

i LOVE the arc that the mark's assistant, tomas, has over the course of this episode. yes, good, take down your boss!!

sophie dropping the accent! god that really makes her scary. it's like she's saying, "just to be clear, the last few days have been a complete and utter lie, and there's no one who's got your back".

i like the way the team all watch nate light a candle (something catholics do for the dead), sincerely sombre. probably partly feeling for nate, partly thinking of their own grief. parker watches especially carefully, and takes a big breath in like she's overwhelmed. makes me think of how she suppresses her grief over her brother and so much loss she's experienced in her life.

eliot seems to put a hand on nate's shoulder as they exit the church. he also knows a thing or two about grief.

[runnning-outof-time]

Hii! Can i pls request a arthur Shelby x wife!reader where the reader isn't involve in any of the business of Arthur and his family and during the vendetta the italians kidnap her to kill her as revenge but Arthur and his brothers come in time and Arthur comfort scared reader?

Hi anon! I hope you don’t mind the formatting of this - I’m trying something out in hopes that it’ll help me get these requests shared. It’s not quite a structured story, but it’s also not quite headcanons - it just kinda showcases the major plot points of the story along with some added supporting details … whatever it is, I wrote it! I hope you enjoy!

When The Day’s Done | Arthur Shelby x Reader

**gif credit: @/sparksetfire, who sadly deactivated**

Summary: Arthur meets a woman when he moves out into the country. She stays behind when he must return to Birmingham to fight the vendetta because they feel that it's safer for her to stay here. Their decision turns out to be the wrong one, and now Arthur must save her.

Warnings: season 4 spoilers, kidnapping

Word Count: 2777 (way longer than I expected)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Arthur met (Y/N) when he moved out to the country.

**Linda's not present in this story, but he'd still move out there after the events between seasons 3 and 4 finished. **

Ada - with the help of Polly - would have a big hand in prompting this move. They both know that Arthur could be better, and that what he surely needed was to be away from the smoke of Small Heath. And they were correct.

It didn't take long for them to meet.

(Y/N)'s house was the next one over - down the street that is - and she met Arthur when she opened her front door to find him one day.

Arthur had met her father prior. He already had an established farm, and that's something Arthur's hoping he could create for himself now that he's got this land. So (Y/N)'s father had told him to come over and that he'd show him around in hopes that some inspiration would strike Arthur.

(Y/N) still lives at home with her parents. She's got a job within their community - running the farmer's market that all of the local farmers bring their goods to (her father included) ... it's just easier for her to stay at home, and her parents are quite happy that she chooses to as she's an only child. They like to keep the family close.

So back to Arthur meeting her at the door. Knowing how Arthur is, I'm sure you could picture how he reacted when he came face fo face with this beautiful woman instead of the older man he'd met earlier in the week. Yeah, he suddenly doesn't know how to form a complete sentence.

(Y/N) finds it adorable. And she goes to get her father when Arthur finally manages to get out what it is that he's there for.

She makes sure to ask her father about him once he leaves, too. Like she pretty much plays twenty questions with him. Her father obliges and answers what she asks...and he's got that look in his eye too - like he has an inkling of an idea as to why she's asking all the questions. (Y/N)'s too oblivious to catch it.

The next place Arthur finds (Y/N) is at the farmer's market. He's getting some things that he needs and she, of course, checks him out (in more ways then one, if we're being honest).

He's actually able to strike up conversation with her this time around - asking her about the market and how long she'd been working there. And she happily shares answers with him. He ends the conversation with "well if it all goes right, you'll be selling my things here too."

To which (Y/N) responds with "if you're following my father's advice, you'll be growing things in no time."

She leaves him with a sweet smile and then kicks herself once he exits the market. Since when have I ever been so giddy over a man?, she thinks to herself.

Little does (Y/N) know that Ida, one of the older women in the community, watched the entire interaction with a knowing look...she can read these two like an open book.

And it just so happens that Ida's one of the women in the village that loves to gossip.

The first person in Arthur and (Y/N)'s circle that this gossip gets to is (Y/N)'s father...yeah, probably the worst person it could have reached. He overhears it when he's at one of his fellow farmer's home. The fellow farmer's wife decided to bring it up as a topic of conversation, surprising (Y/N)'s father.

He doesn't even wait to speak to Arthur about it. It's during one of the evenings where the two men are meeting, because Arthur's still getting a handle on the whole farming thing, that the older man decides to bring it up. He comes right out with it, too - "whatever your intentions with my daughter are, you'd better be an honest man about it."

Arthur's surprised, to say the least. But he doesn't deny the interest he has in (Y/N). He puts on a serious face and nods, saying "I will, sir." (Y/N)'s father nods in response.

So the next time Arthur sees (Y/N), which happens to be when she answers the door to find him on her family's front stoop - again, Arthur asks her to dinner.

And that's the start of a lovely relationship.

He's careful with who he tells. He wants to leave his life in Small Heath out of it for the most part. Sure, in some ways that's doing a disservice to (Y/N), but this new start has been good for Arthur.

He tells John and Ada, who are both incredibly happy for him. Finn just kind of finds out one day when he's visiting his eldest brother, and he's got nothing bad to say about it. He'd tell Tommy too...if Tommy wasn't so hard to reach. Polly is also hard to reach during this time, but he does mention it to her.

They're truly inseparable from the start. (Y/N) feels bashful at the fact that she practically lives at Arthur's home now, but Arthur repeatedly tells her that he's so incredibly happy that she's staying with him.

It's during these months that he's the happiest he's ever been. His little farm is flourishing (thanks to the help from the farmer's daughter and her knowledge), and he's sure that he's now with the love of his life.

The move that he was initially feeling uncertain about has turned out to be one of the best decisions he's ever made.

About three or four of these blissful months pass before Arthur's meeting with (Y/N)'s father again. This time, however, he's got a question that doesn't involve farming.

He wants to ask him for his daughter's hand in marriage.

He does everything in proper fashion too - sits down with him, professes how (Y/N) makes him feel and even shows the ring that he'd picked out a few weeks back.

(Y/N)'s father essentially has to agree to Arthur's questions twice because the latter doesn't hear him the first time. He's too busy going through the speech he'd prepared to take into account that her father could answer before he finished it.

And when he does hear his answer, he's immediately relieved.

He wastes no time in asking her. In fact, he does it that evening while they're enjoying some time out on the grounds of his property. Of course she says yes!

News of the engagement spreads like wildfire throughout the village. Some think it's way too early for that step, but others - particularly those who have known (Y/N) and her family for some time - think it's perfect.

(Y/N)'s so excited to plan their wedding, and Arthur's eager to allow her to have anything she wants as part of their big day.

She pours every ounce of herself into the planning and preparations over the next few months.

All of the excitement, however, comes to a screeching halt near Christmas of 1925, when a Black Hand comes in the mail.

To be clear, by this point Arthur's told (Y/N) about what sort of business he was involved in prior to moving out of Small Heath. He felt that if he was going to truly be with her, she deserved to know every part of him.

Sure (Y/N)'s not exactly enthused to learn of the types of things he'd done in the past, but anyone was easily able to see that he was making a good faith effort to separate and distance himself from every part of that lifestyle - besides keeping in touch with his family, of course.

When it's decided that the Shelby's would move back to Small Heath to face the vendetta head on, Arthur insists that (Y/N) stays back in the village. He hopes that the Italians don't know much more about his life there than the address of his home.

There's some hesitance from (Y/N), but she ultimately agrees and moves back with her parents as Arthur heads to Small Heath.

The distance is tough for the two of them. They've essentially gone from being each other's everything every day for the past year to not having any contact whatsoever.

And so while hell's happening in Small Heath, (Y/N)'s living a normal life back home. Things go on like this for some time too...until one day things change.

The - for lack of better terms - hit gets put out after Arthur kills the two men in the basement of the factory.

Two strange men were hanging around the farmer's market for the entirety of (Y/N)'s shift. She feels something uneasy about them, but tries to shake it off and focus on helping customers and whatnot.

They bring her to a stop on her walk home and force her to get into their car, driving off without a word.

(Y/N) decides to stay quiet and remains relatively calm. She doesn't know what these men want, and hopes that if she's compliant with them, they'll let her go.

Unfortunately things don't pan out that way.

The drive feels like it goes on forever, and it's dark by the time they make it to their destination. Because of this - and the fact that the men were forcibly dragging her to the doors - (Y/N)'s unable to catch any defining markers of where she now is.

She's dragged into a dark room, where the only piece of furniture is a wooden chair. Nothing is said as she's shoved into the chair and the men begin tying her to it. "What do you want from me?" she finally asks.

One of the men smirks, glancing at his counterpart before responding, "I'd get comfortable, sweetheart, you might be here awhile."

With that the two leave her tied to the chair, nodding to the man that she now notices is sitting by the door of the room.

A decent chunk of time passes - (Y/N)'s not sure how much because there's nothing that could tell her - before the door opens again.

A different man walks in this time. He's wearing a nicely tailored suit, a fedora, and as he comes to a stop in front of her, (Y/N) can see that he's chewing on the end of a matchstick. A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he gets a good look at her.

"Who are you?" she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.

"You don't know me, sweetheart, but I know all about you," the man answers, "and your family."

This confuses her even more. "What do you mean?"

The man responds quickly, "Your husband killed my father. I want to know where he is."

"I don't...I don't know where he is," she says while trying to hide the fact that her heart is beating out of her chest.

The man just laughs at her statement. "See I don't believe that."

"It's true," she quickly responds, the desperation in her voice not helping her.

The man shakes his head, a wicked smirk forming as he looks her over. "Let me put this as simply as possible: you have twenty-four hours to give Arthur Shelby to me, or it'll be you who dies next. Understood?" (Y/N) doesn't answer. He gets really close to her as a look of annoyance spreads across his face. "I said: do you understand me?" The cologne he wears is almost too much for her to bear. Her face wrinkles together for a moment, hoping if she holds her breath, he'll just leave. But he doesn't.

So she opens her eyes and locks them onto his. "I do," she finally answers, her voice steady despite the fear that's coursing through her.

"Good," the man smirks, finally stepping away from her. "You'll tell him when you're ready," he states, motioning to the man who'd been watching her since she was placed in the room. "I'd do it sooner than later, sweetheart," he suggests, laughing to himself as he exits the room.

(Y/N)'s left with a startling decision now. She truly doesn't know what to do, or if there's even a way out of this.

Back home, people are talking. (Y/N)'s absence isn't hard to miss. At first it's thought that maybe she's gone out for the day, but worries skyrocket when she hasn't returned by the evening.

Her parents waste no time in contacting Arthur, even though it might not be the best move.

(Y/N) told them of the way she was instructed to get any urgent information to Small Heath - by calling the factory they owned and placing a message.

When Arthur receives this message the next time he's at the factory, he immediately knows something's wrong with her. There wouldn't be any other reason why (Y/N)'s parents would be the ones sending out the call.

They manage to send one of Aberama's men out to gain more details, and what information is brought back to Small Heath instantly makes Arthur's blood run cold. His fiancée was in danger. Everything else could wait...what needed to happen next was they needed to find where she was being held.

— ••• —

(Y/N) doesn't give any information to the man appointed to watch over her. She wasn't going to give her fiancé up. She holds onto hope that something'll happen before her time is up.

The man sitting by the door keeps a steady watch on her. (Y/N)'s surprised that he hasn't nodded off to sleep yet, as he hadn't been switched out for anyone else.

It all happens so suddenly. One moment, the man was turning his head to investigate a scraping noise that he heard just outside the doorway. The next, there's a man with what (Y/N) makes out to be shoulder-length hair peeking out from under a fedora pressing a gun to the seated man's temple.

The breath gets stuck in (Y/N)'s throat, but she doesn't panic.

"You speak and it'll be the last thing you ever do," the gun wielding man threatens the seated man. As expected, silence follows. "She's in here," the man then proclaims, making more footsteps sound in the corridor.

The voice that comes next has sobs of relief leaving (Y/N)'s mouth. "(Y/N)," Arthur calls as he rushes to where she's tied up. "(Y/N), love, I'm here."

"I...I didn't know what to...I didn't tell them anything," she stumbles over her words as Arthur works quickly on untying her from the chair. The second her hands are released, she falls into his arms.

"I've got you now. You're ok, you're safe," he whispers into her hair as she clings to him.

"What do I do with him, boss?" the man, who's still pressing a gun into one of her captors' temple, asks.

"Dispose of 'em," a second man responds. A slight struggle ensues, but (Y/N) doesn't move to see what happens. She stays put in Arthur's arms.

Time passes and the couple stays put. Arthur's thanking every god he knows of for keeping (Y/N) safe. (Y/N)'s still trying to get a hold of her emotions. Keeping them bottled up for this long while she was tied up is catching up with her.

"I didn't know if you'd come or not," she finally says some time later.

"I'll always come," he assures her, his voice gravelly as his emotions catch up with him. "When the day's done, I've got you, darlin'."

His comforting words made her finally lift her head from his chest. Her teary eyes found his and she couldn't help but smile. It felt like they'd been apart for years. Something quickly became apparent to her as she took in his appearance.

"Arthur..." she paused, letting out a mixture of a laugh and a sniffle, "your hair." What was all one length and longer was now shaved short on the sides but kept long on the top. She just had to reach out to feel it, wanting to confirm that it was actually real.

Arthur's brows furrow in confusion for a moment before he realizes what she's talking about. He can't help but chuckle as he feels her fingers run through his hair. "I cut it. Hope you don't mind, love."

"I don't," (Y/N) answers, shaking her head. "I love it."

Thank you for making it through…whatever this was. I appreicate you sticking with it. I’m not sure how many more fics I’ll write in this format but I will say that it really helped me get an idea I was originally struggling with out.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @ce1iat

@christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

[littlelovelunette]

Fuck Vi with a strap? 😼

Roped Up

Contains smut, strap, clit play, rope play, spanking, mommy kink, cliffhanger ending

All throughout the sex you and Vi have had so far it was Vi dominating you and never really the other way around. Seeing Vi you could almost just tell that she was going to be submissive as fuck as a bottom, so you knew you had to try it out.

But you needed to play your cards right, that woman was so stubborn, and she'd definitely not want you seeing her vulnerable submissive side so soon.

After Vi got back home from a long day, she only greeted you a little and plopped on the bed exhausted.

Vi could feel you undressing her but didn't pay much heed to it because it was you and continued to sleep, slipping deeper into her slumber.

She was so tired.

You couldn't help feel sympathy for her, tracing and playing with her hair for a bit before you put your plan into action, hands move precisely and gently as you first tied her wrists.

Her fists were her biggest weapon after all. After you finished tying her wrists, you pulled the rope up over her head and tied her legs to the bedposts. She looked so vulnerable this way, damn...

You undressed yourself and put the harness on, moving the dildo slowly between her folds. She was already dripping.

Vi stirred a little, hands tugging at the ropes and then her eyes snapped open and she looked down, "Shit, doll, untie me, right now," she attempted to sound intimidating but a bit of arousal was already creeping onto her voice, "Shhh, let mommy take charge," you said, shushing her with a finger before you flipped her onto her knees.

Vi gasped as her face pressed against the pillow she's never been taken like this by anyone before. She felt the dildo against her slit and shuddered.

"N-No," she managed to croak out before you finally pushed your hips forward and slammed the dildo inside her pussy.

She let out a scream followed by a strangled moan, damn was Vi so vocal as a sub.

"Like mommy's strap deep in your cunt, huh?" You reached your hand down and toyed with her clit while you continued slamming the dildo into her hole.

Vi tightened on the dildo faltering your movements a little but you knew she was trying her best to be on the receiving end. Vi gasped as you fucked harder into her, making the bed creak and she tries to spread her legs more to give you better access.

"S-So deep," Vi stuttered out, tears in her eyes as you continued your reckless assault on her hole, her clitoris was throbbing and swollen when you turned her on her back. Your eyes locked onto her nipples and you grabbed them twisting and pulling at her nubs as she screamed and writhed against the dildo, grinding up against it pathetically.

"More mommy please, ruin my hole," Vi begged, hips thrusting up hopelessly as she tried to bring herself closer to the edge, "Oh, goodness yes mommy," she cried out and moaned super loud as she came undone on the silicone toy not even giving you a warning before hand earning a swat to her ass.

"Bad girl," you chided, slapping her ass again.

"Sorry, mommy," Vi mumbled looking up at you shyly making something inside you melt, "That's a good girl," you cooed and continued thrusting the dildo deep into her hole

"I'm a goodgirl, yes, I'm a goodgirl," Vi gasped and screamed as you slammed the dildo deep, the tip of the silicone toy kissing her cervix with each thrust and it made her scream even louder.

She looked adorable, her tough exterior reduced a crying, begging puppy-like state. As you continued fucking her, you looked done at her and noticed how she has her eyes squeezed tightly.

"Eyes on mommy," you said and she obliged, opening her teary blue eyes.

"You close?" You smirked and Vi nodded, that was enough for you. You pulled her legs up and continued thrusting harder and faster before she gushed her liquids out all over the dildo and soaked the sheets, "Mmmm, so good for mommy yeah? C'mon," you got over her and made her suck the strap which she did happily, tasting herself on the phallic toy.

"Did soooo well for me," you giggled and got off of Vi, taking the strap off and slowly beginning to untie her, as you bent down to pick up the fallen clothes, you gasped as Vi grabbed both your wrists, pinning you down to the bed, and holding your wrists up with one hand.

"Where do you think you're going, mommy?" Vi smirked.

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

I make four Milf Models on the list (and a Fifth on in Shiranui) and then I go and find Six more 'Mature' Gems! Dammit...

Anyways let me introduce the Six new candidates.

1.) Cattleya (Queen's Blade)

Not gonna like, I know noithing besides that she has huge tits, glasses and is a blacksmith with hella muscle... That is more then enough! I would make her son and Jaune friends, and Cattleya is the only woman the Arc trust to forge their weapons and upkeep them. Her son Rana is one of the only people Jaune trust around his sisters.

2.) Kie Kamado (Demon Slayer)

So truth be told, I have not watched Demon Slayer... And this woman and her four dead kids are why! Like THE FUQ!? Jesus man this crap broke my heart, I... I just moved right along to happy anime cuz that shit makes me sad as fuck... So yeah they would live in Ansel, and she would be Juniper's best friend and one of the very few women he can understand the sheer difficulties of raising a small team of children. But worst, because she has to do it alone... Then Grimm attack, and while everyone else is trying to protect their own. Little Jaune rushes to help his best friend Tanjiro and his siblings! Auraless and with only his families sword in hand that he can barely wield the two boys actually manage to kill a Beowulf and proceed to get them to the safety of the Arc House.

3.) Shizu Shinazugawa (Demon Slayer)

DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!!! Seriously this woman somehow had a worst death then Kie! SHE ATE HER KIDS!!! WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL!!! OH! AND LETS NOT FORGET THAT SHE WAS GETTEN BEATEN BY HER HUSBAND!!! God Dammit, at this point I'm starting to think it's a good thing pig boy was raised by boars. If his mom had been with him instead of abandoning him in thew woods (I assume) she'd probably be dead too! Much less lightening whiney bitch I swear don't give him a tragic backstory too! I do not want to like him... As for shizu, Imma play the Cardin card, and say the two older brothers are bullies in Ansel. Lashing out at others because of their abusive father and of course Jaune is a very ripe target, the envy of the pair because of his kind strong father. Jaune is mad, but after talking to his sisters he decides to invite the boys over to dinner, and try to be friends, after all like his mom says, friends are just strangers you haven't met yet. And besides... Their like him and Tanjiro, he heard they have a lot of siblings too. They should make a club together! It is as little Jaune is having these thoughts that he stumbles upon it... then father beating them, them and their poor mom! And much like with the Ursa Jaune rushes in. And gets beaten within a inch of his life, but doesn't stop, grabbing forks, spoons anything he can get his hands on... Telling them to run, to get his dad. Papa Arc does come forward and what he finds is his son, bloody, beaten barely able to stand, but standing he is, and protecting the poor lady with a broken leg from her evil husband... And then the man is gone, his head taken, the Arc Patriarch not hesitating for even a second.

4.) Ruka Rengoku (Demon Slayer)

'It is the obligation of those born strong to defend the weak. Don't ever forget that..'

That Fucking Line! That Fucking Line Right There Makes Her Hotter Then The Other Two! Oh and what do you know, another piece of shit husband!

Okay, so I get he only turned piece of shit cuz she died bu-NO! You Know what, Fuck that Your Son Died Cuz You Couldn't Step Up And Live Up To Your Wives Words! Fuck You!!! That Drunk Bastard Insulted her memory and made her have to suffer meeting her son FAR TOO EARLY!!!

There is no way this woman doesn't hate her husband from beyond the grave! So here what would happen, Shinjuro would snap earlier then like when his wife is first diagnosed with the disease. At first he tries to stay strong but then begins to drink, then gets pissed when told nothing can be done!

And then in his denial he tries to force them to leave to Atlas, to hopefully find a cure or way to treat her... But Ruka refuses, Ansel needs them, negativity has been on the rise and Grimm have shown up more often. So he begins to drink and rant, and rave and Ruka watches her husband betray both himself and her faith in him.

And then he leaves, taking her with him one night, in desperation kidnapping his own wife against her will, her body far too weak to resist to take her to Atlas forcibly if needed. He uses a favor Papa and Mama Arc owe him to watch his kids while he's gone (Lying and saying he convinced Ruka)

And it is as he was gone that Ansel was attacked, his sons forced to fight, children like them, Jaune, little Tanjiro and the Shinazugawa brothers barely managing to take his place, but not without injury.

When he returns, he isn't met with scorn, nor blame... Not from anyone, except his wife! Ruka will not forgive him, and would rather die alone then married to him... He leaves, bitter angry but knowing she was right. And it was as this was happening that her son brings Jaune to her, the boy noticing several cuts and bruises she'd received from her forceful travels... He reaches out, and uses the power he discovered while the held off the Grimm.

The power that let mere kids like them fight and barely make up the difference her Ex-Husbands absence... His Semblance, Aura Amplification, every doctor had told her her disease wasn't treatable because her body simply lacked the strength to fight it, her immune system was too too compromised and her body too fragile by that point to maintain.

But Jaune's power, it's strength was one of a nature to empower others, to share with them his strength, his vigor, his will and soul, and Jaune wouldn't stop sharing his strength until it was enough to save her!

It was the logic of a simply youth, if he could kill monsters as big as Grimm, he refused to let small ones so tiny and weak take one of his friends moms! The same woman who told him he could be a huntsman! No! That said it was his duty to be one! Well What Kinda Huntsman Couldn't Save a mother!

5.) Rinko Iori (Gundam... Apparently -///-)

I...I did not know she was from a anime... I firmly thought she was a hentai mom... But no, apparently she is from Gundam. Well, I think I've said enough and these pictures hopefully speak for themselves...

I'd say she is a Argus mom, and helped Saphron and Terra navigate raising their first kid.

6.) Mirelia Q Melromarc

She Is A Queen! (Literally!) but no... Like seriously she is best girl, she showed up and everything, oh everything just turned pure euphoria for me. And God Damn She hated her husband! I wish they went more in on how thoroughly pissed she was in the anime like they did in the light novel.

Seriously a fucked up daughter and husband... just... Fuck man, and seriously FUCK BITCH For What She did! (If you read the Web Novel you know what I'm talking about) And fuck Trash too! Y'know it was so he could have a redemption Arc.

Fuck that, as far as I'm concerned those two need death like I need air. Naofumi is her (Only) daughter's fiancée. Which means she's in need of a new consort, a noble, strong, kind one who has a sharp wit.

[delphi-shield]

a little dream of me

Leon Kennedy x Reader x Jill Valentine Fluff wc: ~1.8k

pics from @/thisdastampdoesnotexist. gif from @/onlyasimp4-2dbitches, dividers from @/adornedwithlight

who else is up romanticizing the mundane⁉️ (<- bone crushingly lonely) this has been in my drafts forever and I was finally appropriately sleepy enough to finish it. used this fic to get back into the swing of things so it may be a lil clunky

content: fluff without plot. midday naps. established poly relationship (jill/reader, leon/reader, jill & leon). minor relationship squabbles. reader specified to have a cat and also tits.

summary: everything is a competition with these two - including who gets to keep you company while you nap.

It had seemed like the perfect day to catch up on some work. No plans, no obligations, no desire to fight the traffic. Jill had offered all of the above. She'd woken you up early with insistent kisses at your neck, mumbling her plans for a morning hike. You'd rebuffed that idea quick with an unintelligible murmur, nuzzling deeper into your pillow.

That set the tone for the day. You were still in bed by the time she was back from her hike, had only traded the warmth of your bed for the indulgence of a shower with Jill. Your face pressed between her shoulder blades, warm water cascading down. You trusted your weight against her frame, made her question whether or not you had fallen asleep standing up.

“Leon's coming over around noon,” you'd told her, words pressed into her back.

“Yeah? You two have big plans?”

She felt you shake your head. Your arms squeezed around her waist, drawing her muscled body back into you.

“Just gonna hang out here. I'm gonna get some work done.”

Fat chance, Jill thought. She kept that to herself. If she pointed out that you seemed much more inclined to have a lazy day in, you'd push back and work too hard. She was just going to let you have your illusions of productivity.

Case in point: the sunny morning haze had tempered into an overcast sky, stringy cotton candy clouds rolling into puffy, over-whipped dollops. Leon had showed up with a light lunch in hand, passing you a warm bowl of soup and Jill a cup of coffee. He settled next to you on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

It doesn't take long for your first yawn to breach containment. You snatch the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over your lap. You dropped your laptop on top of your thighs. Still playing at the idea of work while consciousness bled out of you and into the cushions. Jill caught Leon’s eye, smirked, and turned back to her own work.

Leon laughs. He warns, “you’re playing a dangerous game.”

Maybe he was right, but telling him that was a surefire way to never hear the end of it.

“I'm just chilly,” you yawned. You pounded out a few more lazy keystrokes to prove yourself. Hope this email finds you well, you draft. Phew. Hard work.

As if she knew you needed a break after that grueling labor, your cat appeared on the cushion next to you, tail curled up behind her. She gingerly closed the distance, careful paws immediately turning heavy the moment she climbed onto your stomach.

Your laptop nudged halfway down your legs, pushed lower and lower as your cat had stepped forward and demanded more real estate. Frantic keystrokes turned to gentle, loving pets. Your laptop wobbled, balanced precariously on your shins, your cat stretching down the seam of your legs and pushing it even further.

Devious little creature. You had whined and protested while doing nothing to move the little beast from your lap. She pushed any hope of productivity away from you, and you scratched under her chin.

The final death knell for productivity sounded - the first distant rumble of thunder rolled in through your open window. All the work you had hoped to catch up on was slipping through your fingers, washed away by the patter of rain against the rooftop.

Leon rescued your laptop from toppling to the floor, shutting the lid and laying it to the side. He mussed your hair playfully, just to feel you swat weakly at his hand. He knew damn well what the next words out of your mouth were.

"I think I'm gonna take a nap," you declared, right on time. Your hands scooched carefully beneath your cat, scooping her into your arms. A gentler awakening than dumping her on the floor when you pulled your legs back, to be certain. She mewled quietly, little trill pealing from her when she bunts her head against your shoulder.

Now, here arises the issue:

“Be right there.”

“Coming.”

Jill had already risen from her chair. Leon's feet had landed on the floor. They freeze, turning to look to each other. (Oblivious to the issue, you plod down the hall, cooing to your cat.)

Leon groans as he stands, hands slapping his thighs.

“That bed ain't big enough for the two of us,” he says, wiggling his fingers by his hips like he's ready for a stand off. Out of habit, Jill scans him for weapons. Left his every day carry in the car this time, at least.

That bed is probably big enough for the two of them, realistically. The one time they tried, they had technically fit. You had been in heaven, all wrapped up in the middle. Warm and safe, wrapped up with your lovers. Meanwhile, Leon's - and I quote - gangly fucking muppet legs kept bumping into Jill, his ‘talons’ scraping her. Jill had thought she was kissing the backs of your fingers, your soft skin against her chapped lips - only to realize too late that it was Leon's hands.

It had been too close for comfort. They'd decided not to do that again, that they'd take turns and live with it. Jill had gifted Leon toe nail clippers to show that she held no ill will; Leon had lifted her chapstick.

That peace was on pause for the moment. A naptime was on the line, with no clear invitation extended to either of them. Leon is tempted to pull the ‘you live together’ card, try to sneak into your bed on a technicality - but he decides to play fair.

Leon’s fist drops heavy into his palm. “Let’s settle this.”

Jill cracks her knuckles.

“Whoa, hang on– rock, paper, scissors, not beat, maim, bludgeon. Is that how you settle things at the BSAA?”

“I always win.”

“I have no doubt.”

Jill extends her fist, taking mercy on him. No beat down today. Just rock, paper, scissors. He might actually stand a chance now.

He thinks of what motivates him - what he's fighting for, the prize on the line.

Leon could picture blanketing you with his weight, hands slipping up your waist to curve against your ribs. There's no need for a blanket; he runs hot, has a furnace-like warmth he's happy to share with you anytime, anywhere. Conversation is pointless and light, your voices mingling and muddling together in the space between you. Coherence is gone, but he curls his fingers against your ribs to pry a giggle from you. It's hard to find the time to slow down but he relishes the way that time sputters to a stand still on lazy afternoons, your fingers trailing down his spine, slower and slower until they finally stop. Maybe you're not the prettiest sleeper, but it's pretty to him. He slips in and out of sleep, head cushioned on your pillowy tits.

Leon takes the first round. Rock beats scissors - he goes so far as to bop Jill’s fingers with his fist, making a crunching noise. Jill isn't amused.

“Best two out of three,” she insists, eyes hard.

Jill has a different picture in mind. Hands pushing your hips to the mattress, a blanket tangled between your limbs. You giggled when you told her you actually intended to nap, that it wasn't an excuse for a quickie. Jill could change your mind. It would be easy. But your fingers pet through her hair, scratch at the nape of her neck, and she swears she could purr. She noses up the valley of your chest, plants a kiss dead center, and pillows her cheek against your tits. She had never been one for naps, but she grasped every moment of serenity with you tightly, watched half-lidded as your eyes fluttered shut. Her head rises and falls with your breaths. She could stay like this forever, if you let her.

Scissors beats paper. Leon throws his hand up.

“Scissors twice in a row? Who does that?”

“Me.” Jill shakes her fist, drawing his attention back to the game. “Stop stalling. I'm ready for my nap.”

“Yeah, we'll see,” he mutters.

Time slows. Surely she wouldn't throw scissors again. Who would do that?

Jill Valentine would. She would commit to the bit. She's trying to throw him off, trying to make him think she's mixing it up so she can sneak in and win. He's underestimated Jill's ability to stay the course in the past before.

Jill throws scissors. Leon throws rock. He hisses out a contained, appropriately excited ‘yesss’ as he pretends to crush Jill’s scissors again.

She rolls her eyes, tamping down a smile. She waves him off, turning back to the kitchen table.

“Yeah, whatever. Have fun.”

“Oh, I will,” he insists, already backing down the hall to the bedroom. His gloating grows quieter, trying not to disturb your rest - the smug effect diminished by the fact that he's practically whispering. “Gonna sleep for three hours. Get my cologne all over the pillows.”

Leon nudges the bedroom door open gently, and–

“Goddammit,” he mumbles.

You're already asleep. That isn't the problem. The problem is your cat is curled up on your chest. Right in the valley of your breasts, where he wanted to be. He'd been so concerned about Jill that he had forgotten his biggest competition. Taunting him, the cat stretched out, paws pressing against your chest. She curls back in, rolling onto her back, belly presented.

A trap, he thinks. He shuffles over silently to pet the enticing belly fur all the same. Furry little traitor - she places a paw against his wrist, claws flexing. A warning - don't fuck up my nap, I got here first.

Leon risks kissing your forehead. Your cat allows it, her eyes tracking his every movement. He drags himself back into the living room, throwing himself down onto the couch, slumping.

Jill peeks up from her work, brow furrowed. Before she can ask what's wrong, Leon pipes up.

“The cat beat us to it.”

“She weighs 10 pounds. You can't move a 10 pound cat?”

Leon props an arm up on the back of the couch. He levels her with a skeptical look.

“Are you gonna move her?”

Silence. Jill would rather stick her hand in a jar of barbed wire than try to move your beloved menace from your chest.

“Let's just watch a movie.” Jill shuts her laptop and drops onto the other side of the couch.

“That's what I thought.”

When you wake hours later, the house is silent. You hadn't expected to wake up alone. The storm had settled into a gentle flush of rain, the house dark and cool in the midday storm. You stumble from bed and wobble down the hall, searching for at least one of your partners.

You find both of them crashed out on the couch, Leon squished against one arm, Jill against the other - and your cat taking up the majority of space curled up into a ball on the middle cushion, napping away.

[burningcheese-merchant]

I need Eternal Sugar x Hollyberry content, please!

Dug to the bottom of the inbox mountain for this one lol. hollysugar-merchant, coming at you live 🫵🗣️🔥 (is that what the ship is called? HollySugar? I don't actually know, that's what i got used to calling it)

Eternal Sugar, being a musician, likes to play songs on her harp for Hollyberry. Eager to please, she at first went out of her way to pick up Hollyberrian tunes, knowing that Holly's people and culture are already quite musically inclined and believing it would win more of Holly's favor. After enough reassurance from Holly that she doesn't need to "impress" her (she just loves that Sugar can play something and is good at it, and she cares enough to want to play for Holly), Sugar allows herself to just play whatever song she has in mind at the time. Her goal had always been to serenade Holly and make her happy - and she always succeeds, which was all she wanted, anyway

Lots of brushing and styling each other's hair for fun, I can imagine. Eternal Sugar looks extremely feminine so it's easy to ascribe the "girly" affinity for makeup and hair and fashion and things of that nature to her. She'd love to dote on Hollyberry in this manner: just relaxing in their room, chatting with her while she brushes her hair. And Holly is happy to oblige, because she enjoys it and Sugar is really adorable when she does this

Hollyberry tries to encourage Eternal Sugar to go out and do things a lot, just in general. She can be (and often is, because it's Holly lol) a bit much, which leads to Sugar sort of digging her heels in and maybe them bickering about it, but Sugar at least acknowledges that Holly means well. Old habits die hard, is all. (Harder still when you're a Beast lol)

Sugar is very, very clingy in bed (sleep-wise, you perv lol). She'll curl up next to Holly, wrap her arms around her tight and not let go for anything. Good news is she's not super physically strong (not compared to Holly, anyway), so it's not that big of a hassle to peel her off when it's time to get up. Bad news is Sugar sleeps like the dead, so it's almost impossible to actually get her to wake up and start the day with Holly like Holly wants/prefers. And if/when she wakes up and notices that she is no longer glued to Holly like she was when she fell asleep... oh boy. It's Whinin' Time lol

Sugar finds Holly's family very cute. Her son in particular, just because of how much he resembles her. She dotes on him (and the others, of course; she also loves Princess very much, she's even more like Hollyberry than Royal Berry is) whenever she sees him. He and his friends and family get used to her presence and even welcome her to some degree after they stop being terrified of her lol

Sugar can be quite jealous, and doubles down on that jealousy when the one causing it actively does try to get in the way of her and Hollyberry. She goes back and forth between liking Wildberry and disliking him (Wildberry just dislikes her lol). She is sweet towards Jungleberry until the latter's mostly unshakeable distrust of her becomes a little TOO apparent. It is On Sight with Pitaya Dragon lol (she is VERY unhappy with how often Pitaya wants to spend time with Holly, even if it's only in a friendly capacity and the romantic threat is entirely imaginary. Pitaya just does not like Sugar in any way, shape or form; not really out of concern for Holly's safety or anything, he just thinks she sucks, there's really nothing else to it)

Sorry these are kind of lame :/ there's not enough for me to work with wrt Eternal Sugar. I'm sure I'll think of better things whenever she's added to the game and we actually see what she's like

[yandere-fics]

♡ Pauline Teacher/Student ♡

"Y/N, please meet me in my office after your classes are over." Having everyone assume you were a delinquent with horrible grades was a small price to pay to be able to see your favorite teacher after school every day, no one would ever assume she held you gently in her office, explaining the questions you'd got wrong on purpose just to see her, before fucking you so hard you couldn't even remember what she'd explained anyways, sure it sucked having her think you were stupid but your dean was going through a rough time and you just wanted to cheer her up so if fingering her idiot student so hard you lost conscious and had to nap in her office was what cheered her up then you were more than happy to oblige her, after all you loved her since she first took over as dean of the school and you saw how much she loved magic despite only being able to use curse herself and everyone was so mean, lying that such a wonderful woman had killed her parents for the position, you'd run to her and told her that your professors had been spreading rumors about her and she'd laughed, a laugh you wanted to hear for the rest of your life and so you seduced her, you pretended to need tutoring so you could come onto her and then you'd continued to pretend you were stupid to the point no one would work on group projects with you, you'd tanked your reputation but it was all worth it in the end.

"Idiot, don't move, you're supposed to be focusing." The ruler came down on your back as you tried to bounce on her strap that was currently buried deep inside you, she'd picked a large thick one this time, something about simulating a high intensity situation so that way when you took tests in the future you'd be able to think even under the pressure, you weren't really paying attention to the reasoning, you just found it really hot when she still attempted to teach you when she could just fuck you instead, she really was so sweet, so concerned about your grades and your future, you almost felt bad for deceiving her and pretending your grades were worse than they were.

"I'm sorry, professor, can you explain it for me just one more time?" You looked back at her with a pout as she let out a sigh of frustration. "I'm sorry, I focus better when I cum, can I please move?"

"If it's for the sake of you learning, then go ahead, idiot." Unfortunately for you, Pauline had already caught on that you were just pretending to be dumb a long time ago, not that it mattered to her though, once you graduated she'd make you her wife so she didn't care if you were smart or dumb anyways, she was just going along with your role play so she'd be able to keep you, after all you'd likely leave her if you knew she wasn't actually all that sweet, if you ever learned that she actually did kill her parents for the position. By the time her poor idiot found out it would be too late, and that thought really did cheer her up so you did accomplish your goal after all.

[thechaoticdruid]

Hello! A scene rewrite for your consideration (no obligation of course!):

Astarion’s siblings’ reactions when they break into the party’s camp at the Elfsong Tavern and see Astarion and Winnie cuddling in bed. After the fight, Winnie asks him about not having empathy for the other spawn and Astarion says his line, “No one ever looked out for me. No one ever said a kind thing to me…you’re the only one.”

angst/hurt/comfort?

Thank you for your amazing writing! ❤️

Forever

Pairing: Astarion x Named!Tav (Winnie)

Note: I hope you don't mind, but some of it is word for word from the game while some is changed a bit, but it's pretty much the same context. This is literally one of my favorite scenes in the game! Also please ignore that the photo is not set in the same place as this oneshot. The oneshot takes place in the Elfsong!

Content: Violence, Fluff, slight angst with comfort. Nothing too bad!

Winnie had never thought she'd feel safe enough to sleep peacefully, undisturbed. Not since before the attack on the Lost Grove, her childhood home, did she ever truly feel safe. Today had been particularly tiring since Winnie, Astarion, Jaheira and Karlach had been on the trail of Jaheira’s friend Minsc. Karlach seemed super excited to meet him, apparently he was some great hero or something. Winnie had never been too educated on Faerûn’s heros. They didn't tell stories of them in the Lost Grove. Now she was resting up in their room in the Elfsong, snuggled up in Astarion's arms as he played with her hair, face nuzzled into his chest. The two of them laid on the bed together hidden away from the view of the others as the drapes closed off the room they were in. 

Astarion was awake watching over the human druid as she dozed off in his arms. The sound of the Elfsong’s ghostly songstress lulling her to sleep. Astarion leans over and plants a chaste kiss on her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender and cherry blossoms, the druid’s signature scent. 

For a while she was in a peaceful slumber, but the wicked don't sleep, someone was here to disturb her rest.

Astarion’s pointed ears detected the sound of footsteps and the scent of undeath hit him hard. 

His siblings had come for a visit, slipping in through the curtains that separated them from the rest of their sleeping companions. Glowing red eyes gazed over at the couple in curiosity.

“Astarion? Finally we've found you.” A tiefling female said as she stepped through the curtains. She was followed shortly by what appeared to be a shirtless human male. The two immediately noticed Astarion curled up around his sleeping human love. Astarion mentally cursed himself for allowing his siblings of all people to witness him in such a vulnerable moment. Cazador was the last person that needed to know of his relationship with Winnie.  

“Looks like he found himself a pet mortal.” The man murmured. Astarion slipped away from Winnie and stood in front of her. 

“Oh, her? She's more of a convenient blood bag, really.” Astarion bluffed, hoping his lie would make sure Cazador didn't see Winnie as a means of leverage to use against him. Winnie shifted, exposing the faded bite marks upon her neck.

“Nevermind that brother, you're coming with us.” The tiefling said before she and the male began to corner Astarion.

Winnie slowly shifted, unconsciously feeling around her bed for her lover. Her eyes blinked open as she suddenly heard the sound of shouting. 

“GET THE HELLS AWAY FROM ME!” Astarion snarled. Winnie leapt out of bed now wide awake as she noticed Astarion backing away from two unfamiliar intruders with his fangs barred. 

“Peace brother, we've come to take you home.” The tiefling said. Winnie glared at them and moved over towards Astarion's side.

“The master needs all seven of us for the ceremony, come with us and be reborn. We'll live again.” The man said.

“You're not taking Astarion anywhere.” Winnie growled out, taking a step in front of him protectively.

“Our master needs him for the Rite. He must attend.” The tiefling woman said.

“Oh, I'm well aware of what the master needs. But don't we deserve better?” Astarion spoke up.

“Better? What do you mean?” The other male spawn questioned.

“After these centuries of torment, I know what you all want, more than power, more than to walk in the sun.” Astarion looked at the other two spawn before a devilish grin formed upon his lips. “You want to see him dead.” The other spawn looked at one another as Astarion continued. Winnie rose an eyebrow at Astarion, curious about what he had to say. “The Rite of Profane Ascension will be mine and he won't see a scrap of its glory. I am going to complete the ritual as the Ascendant and then I am going to kill him!” 

Winnie's eyes widened in surprise. He was really still trying to go through with this despite all of her warnings. Winnie wasn’t a stranger when it came to killing, but his siblings were under Cazador's control just as much as he'd been. Whatever their sins were, they weren't their own. At least that's how it was in Winnie's mind. 

“This is your chance. Name me your new master. We will get our revenge and you will live again.”  Winnie could see the lie in his smile, the hunger for power was clear as day. He'd throw them to the wolves for his own gain.  Normally Winnie would be sickened by such a rotten scheme, but being that it was her lover cooking it up she just felt disappointed. 

“Astarion, you can't be this cruel. You're asking them to die for you in that ritual.” Winnie looked at him, eyes saddened. Astarion tensed as he looked back at his lover's round puppy-like eyes, the soft pout of her lips nearly making him cave.

“Don't look at me like that. With the sweet little ‘disappointed I'm not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can't take it.” He glared back at her slightly. “I can't be what you want to see in me.” 

“Die in the ritual? Whatever are you speaking of? We're going to cheat undeath.” The tiefling said, looking quite puzzled.

“Cazador is lying to you. He needs your souls to complete this ritual!” Winnie exclaimed, “why else do you think he wants Astarion back so badly?”

“The master doesn't need to lie to us. He controls us completely. Why go through the trouble of giving us hope?”

“Oh, I don't know…Maybe because he's a sadistic piece of shit?” Winnie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at their ignorance.

“Shit. She's right, we're doomed.” The male spawn said. “Alright, we'll help you. Just tell us what to do.” Just as he was about to speak further the tiefling woman began to cry out in pain, her body glowing red.

“The bond’s hold. He owns us. We have no choice, we must obey. Get out of here, Astarion!”  She shouted before the other male began to glow red as well.  Winnie tensed, the sound of the front doors to the connecting rooms slamming open sent her into survival mode. Almost immediately she dropped down, wild shaping into her direwolf form with a loud howl to alert the others. 

Astarion quickly grabbed his rapier from under the bed as his tiefling sister came at him with claws. Astarion's blocked her with the blade, slashing her across the chest and kicking her back. Winnie immediately jumped on Astarion's brother and sank her teeth into his shoulder. While the other members of their group fought with the other invading spawn, they were able to slip right past them and make their way towards the room where Astarion and Winnie were locked in combat. 

They lunged at the transformed druid, sinking their fangs into her flesh and draining her of her precious ichor. Winnie released the spawn, jerking back with a high pitched dog like whine as the other spawns mobbed her.

“Winnie!” Astarion pushed his sister out of the way and rushed over to the druid as she was forced out of her wild shape and into her human form. The arcane trickster kicked one of his siblings off her before casting scorching ray and hitting multiple of them with it. Winnie had to take a moment to regain her composure as her head was spinning from blood loss. 

This is bad….Fuck…If only the sun was….Wait a minute!

“Sol Invictus!” Winnie suddenly cast daylight on one of the nearby chairs, sending intense beams of light at all of the nearby vampire spawn. Their skin began to sizzle and scorch. Astarion's siblings immediately made a run for the exit, disappearing into mist before they could be turned to ashes. Winnie huffed a bit, eyes glancing around at the blood and damage caused by their uninvited guests. 

“What a mess. Well at least you've met my family now.” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his hair. Winnie crossed her arms and glared at Astarion.

“Oh come on, you're not still pouting over this!” Astarion whined.

“That was low Astarion. Lying to them like that.” Winnie huffed out.

“I don't know why you're so upset. They're only six vampire spawn!” 

“Can’t you at least be a little sympathetic to others who suffered the same as you?” 

“None of them would do the same for me! 200 years or torment and no one ever said a kind thing to me! You're the only one.” He said, gesturing towards the brunette haired druid.

“Astarion.” Winnie frowned, a saddened look in her eyes. 

“Other people don't have a heart like you….You're you….No one is like that.” Astarion said softly before suddenly feeling a soft hand on his cheek as Winnie looked into his eyes.

“Star, there are so many wonderful people in this world who will love you as much as I do. You just need to open your heart to them.” Astarion placed his larger hand over Winnie's. 

“Don't sell yourself so short. I'm doing this for you too, you know. To make sure we're both safe. Forever.” Astarion smiled sweetly as he gazed lovingly back at his druid before adding a firm, “for good.” Winnie smiled at him, eyes growing soft.

“Your sweet words aren't gonna change my view on this I'm afraid.” Winnie smirked, “but I am rather happy to hear you want to protect me.” 

“Stubborn little thing.” Astarion murmured before leaning in to kiss Winnie's forehead. “I saw you get bitten quite a few times. Are you alright?” 

“I feel woozy I guess, tired.” Winnie admitted, before receiving another forehead kiss. 

“Wait here, I'll go get you something to eat.”Her vampiric love hummed.

“Ooh! Ooh! Cheese!” Winnie said giddily as her partner rolled his eyes with a smile before walking off to fetch her some food. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Taglist for Winnie's during campaign oneshots:

@vixstarria , @paganwitchisis , @kerwin290710

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

Narissa Andersen

A/N: This is a pretty detailed backstory of my thunderbolts* oc, Narissa "Nessa" Andersen. If this piques your interest and if you'd like me to write the fic then do let me know in the comments because oc x character fics generally don't get many reads.

Also, this was written before any of the characters were names so there's really not a single mention of Nessa's name.

Read the whole thing below

TW: Mentions of blood and self harm (I deeply apologise for not adding a trigger warning sooner)

She picked up the pen with a sigh and reached out for the notebook she poured out her soul in. The notebook had patience, willingness to listen, the notebook cared.

It wasn't something she'd ever attained from a person.

She had realized it at a young age. Realized that no one would ever listen to her, no one would ever truly care how she felt

And once she'd realized that, she had stopped screaming it from the top of her lungs, she had stopped waiting and wanting to be heard, to be seen.

Her mother cared more about her next high than she did about anything her daughter had interest in

She kept her alive, gave her all the things she needed to remain that way. What more could she possibly wish for?

On the days it got bad, she learned to pick up the pieces her mother would leave behind. She started walking home from school at age seven because her mother would be passed out on the couch and had no track of time, or would be at a whole different corner of the city working odd jobs.

At age eleven, she started doing all the things her mother was supposed to. She cooked and cleaned and made the dump of their apartment a place where she could survive.

And eventually, she started to pick up after her mother's mess.

She would put a blanket over her on days when she couldn't get up from the couch, held her hair back as she threw up her entire meal, brushed her hair and cleaned her up when she couldn't do it herself.

She didn't do all of it because she was ever told do, she just felt the obligation to do it.

Her mother would have her good days too, days when she'd actually spark hope in her daughter's heart, hope that she was actually getting better.

She would clean the house, make her daughter's favorite dinner, picked her up from school. She even made terrible jokes to make her daughter laugh.

But whenever the struggles of living would become too much for her, she'd pick up the bottle again.

And the cycle would repeat.

Her daughter didn't quite understand it, the meaning of her life.

Whenever she would see kids her age go out on trips, whenever she would hear them talk about the future, she couldn't help but wonder how they all knew so well what they wanted.

And why she didn't knew it at all, what it was the she wanted

She hadn't ever been allowed to want anything.

Everyday was pretty much the same, the same routine, same thoughts.

She couldn't even imagine a life out of that cycle.

"You just need to find your purpose" her guidance counselor had told her at age fifteen.

So she had.

Well it wasn't exactly a purpose, just something to look forward to.

She started shifting her focus towards studying because in studying, there was always something new to learn, something to look forward to.

There was always a quiz to study for, an exam to give, so she did.

Eventually she took to playing piano when she'd found an abandoned one at school that no one had ever bothered to give a chance.

A dusty, crooked old thing.

And when the chance to break out of the cycle had come, she had taken it.

She'd been accepted to a university at New York.

And for the first time in her life, she could see the way forward, see the future she wanted to have.

For the first time, she had wanted something.

When she'd told her mother, she'd only lifted a shoulder, had looked up at her with her tired eyes and said "It was only a matter of time".

When she'd stepped out in the world, the big city, her whole perspective had shifted.

For the first time in her life, she had experienced thrill, excitement and for the first time, she was eagerly awaiting something.

And just like every other thing in her life, she'd given college her all. Got the best grades she could, passed each test, every exam.

She'd eventually made a friend too.

She wasn't antisocial really, she spoke to her classmates, kids passing by her in the corridors, had conversations with her roommate.

But the girl she truly cared for, the one that truly mattered to her, was much different.

The girl had made her feel like she mattered, the girl had cared for her, had liked her for who she truly was, and not the fake stories about her high school life that she would tell everyone.

The girl had made her feel wanted.

So she'd confided in her, spilled out her soul to her, drop by drop.

At age nineteen, she'd gotten the call from the local hospital, telling her they'd found her mother in her apartment, passed out on her couch just like all the other times. Except this time she wasn't coming back 

Her mother had od'd. 

Which was ironic because she'd actually called her two days back, had told her about the new job she'd gotten at a waitress, had even made friends with her colleagues.

And surprisingly enough, that was the longest conversation she'd ever had with her mother.

She didn't cry at the funeral, she didn't cry until she went back to the apartment to pack her whole childhood in a box and had no idea what to do with it. 

 There was a weight that had settled in her chest, one that was never going to leave her.

Her best friend had offered to accompany her but she'd simply refused.

It was her own burden to bear.

At age nineteen, she had actually started to love college. She would go out with her best friend on the weekends or sometimes just stay in, watching old romcoms together.

For the first time, her life has started making sense.

She had found her purpose.

But then it happened.

Her best friend was gone, her screams ricocheted through the walls as they had pulled her back, away from her body that was merely a hollowed out carcass now.

She went to class, ate the same cold meals because she had no willingness to heat them up, slept the whole weekend, and did the same every week.

The cycle had found it's way back to her.

Her scholarship was nearly over.

"Do you have no other assets to rely on?" The dean had asked her., to which she'd only shook her head in response.

She hand nothing, no one to rely on, not anymore.

She didn't feel anything anymore, her senses had gone numb as one felt after accidentally sitting on their hand for too long.

She hadn't fallen into the habit willingly, it had happened first when she'd accidentally cut her hand during dinner.

It was then she'd realized that she finally felt something, realized that she liked the pain, the sight of the blood pouring out like a slow stream.

She'd tried many different ways, keeping her hand on a burning pot for too long, "accidentally" dropping things on her feet, but nothing quite made her feel like the way that sharp little thing did.

She could feel again, even if it was just pain.

The pattern went on, getting better some days, when she would be able to stay clean for days, weeks even. But then again on a quiet evening, the blade would find it's way back into her palm again.

At age twenty, her life had turned upside down again

She heard of some experiment, some organization that would run tests on you for research and would pay her for it.

She was desperate, she needed the money.

But even more than that, she needed the pain.

The whole endeavor had left her with abilities she didn't quite understand, and soon enough, she was made to do jobs she didn't quite understand.

But she did it anyway, because nothing really mattered anymore.

Her purpose was gone.

But then the offer by shield came and without thinking much, she took it.

She started spending time with Natasha Romanoff whose company was something she'd grown to be found of. 

Natasha saw as the sister she had lost, and she began seeing her as the one she never had.

So when Natasha had asked for her help take to down hydra and stop the winter soldier, she'd agreed.

And she hadn't looked back ever since.

But everything has changed now. 

Too much has happened ever since, Ultron, the sokovian accords, Thanos, the blip, the five years, Natasha's death.

After it all, she no longer believes her life can do anything surprising to her anymore,

Until she enters that vault in the middle of nowhere, not knowing that her life won't ever be the same again.

[kangals]

Does Stellina get car sick?

Been doing some research into collies and someday want to have one :3 I read that they get car sick easily, but maybe that person just had a collie more prone to car sickness..

Also how do you handle barking? I actually really like “talkative” dogs but I also want to be sure I’m able to stop them when necessary.

One more thing, I saw they love being with other dogs. Do you think it matters if it’s another collie or could it be any dog? I know it’s circumstantial really, but I have a small breed so I wonder how they generally do with little guys in your experience :)

Don’t feel obligated to answer this, only if you want to <3

Thank you ;3 I love your blog

stellina used to get car sick when she was a puppy - probably until she was about 4-5 months old she'd start drooling and puke even if we were only in the car for a few minutes. i gave her bonine (OTC antinausea med) per her breeder's recommendation, and after a few months she grew out of it and hasn't had any issues since then. it's pretty common for puppies to get carsick and grow out of it later! some dogs don't grow out of it, but that's not too common. and then you have dogs like kep, who have never had a problem with it.

barking also depends on the dog - some are REALLY loud, others are more quiet. stellina was super barky as a puppy and a teen, if she was the slightest bit excited or anxious or frustrated it was BARKBARKBARKBARK and it was very annoying. you just have to kind of handle it based on the situation. it depends why they're barking, but in general you want to teach them that barking will not get them the thing they want - for example, if a puppy starts barking because you're eating food and they want it, then puppy gets removed from the room and can only come back in (and eat food) if they're being quiet. puppy barking at the cat, puppy gets removed from the room the cat is in. puppy barking at another dog while out on a walk, puppy gets walked the opposite direction and asked to sit and calm down. puppy barking at the neighbors in the yard, puppy gets put inside. etc. it's just a lot of drilling over and over that barking = no fun. it took stellina until she was 2-3 to stop yelling about everything, and she's great now, but it was trying.

or you can get a dog like kep, who has never had an issue with excessive barking outside of yelling when neighbors walk past the yard (in which case he gets brought straight inside). it's really dependent on the individual personality. both dogs are very chatty though, which i honestly like! they make a wide variety of grumbles and yips and chewbacca honking sounds, it's very silly. if you're getting a collie from a good breeder, who's breeding for stable, non-neurotic dogs with easy temperaments, you probably won't need to worry about a non-stop obsessive barker.

my collies get along fabulously and they love playing together, but collies are really great dogs with pretty much all breeds (they don't love super rough-and-tumble physical play IME, but that's about it). stellina has lived with chihuahuas and really liked them, she always wanted to play but they weren't interested lol. and kep is the same way - they're both very friendly and engaged with little dogs, but will also back off when told to. you can get the odd dog who is dog/same sex selective, but it's quite uncommon to have a collie who isn't safe around small dogs and cats.

if you have the chance to find some local collie shows near you, they're a great chance to go talk with some breeders and meet some dogs! most breeders are happy to chat your ear off about their dogs. i think collies are absolutely fabulous (obviously) and super easy to live with in most homes!

[vivillainous]

exploring the tragedy of alcifras

one of the things i often think about when exploring alcina & fraser's dynamic is the concept of potential. often times, people fall in love with the concept of what someone could be, rather than who they are at their core. i ask myself: is loving what someone could be considering loving them?

that's where the dilemma of alcifras comes in. upon their first meeting, alcina only engages with fraser due to miranda's influence. in fact, much of their relationship develops in the way that it does because of her design. think of it like this: the whitaker conspiracy is a large machine, and alcina + fraser are simply two cogs inside it. miranda is the operator, carefully crafting and controlling the narrative fed to our reader. what does this mean?

to put it simply: alcina's role is to guide fraser where miranda needs her (straight into her arms, which spells death) yet, somewhere down the line she finds herself feeling conflicted with the idea. in her mind, she knows it was always meant to end this way. with fraser gone, and miranda's research one step closer to being complete. however, much like miranda herself, alcina gets swept up in fraser's personhood.

there is undoubtedly an element of romance to it, yes. the way they've connected on common interests, fraser's own curiosity (as opposed to fear) over alcina's condition, whereas many others have instantly resigned themselves to slaughter. there's this feeling there, of the potential of what they could be, perhaps, if fraser were to live.

if alcina were to turn away from what they've planned.

however, she shirks that that idea the moment it eclipses her mind. not for a lack of caring, no, but because her fealty lies with miranda. her debts are to miranda. she owes everything to miranda. or so she'd tell you.

one of the reoccurring themes with alcifras against mirifras is the aspect of choice. alcina chooses to conceal the truth from fraser, out of her own perceived duty to miranda. she chooses to hunt fraser for miranda. in the end, with all her actions, she chooses what miranda wants over her own heart. time and time again.

whereas with mirifras, there is no obligation in place. no loyalty or the weigh of responsibility. miranda, by all accounts, would rid herself of any one of the four lords given the opportunity for even a perceived chance at eva's return. especially after falling so deeply for fraser, she cares little for their input. the difference is stark, to both the audience and fraser herself.

i think, in the rawest way, alcina's love for fraser was not enough in its current state for her to risk turning on the person she idolizes. of course, for her daughters, she'd cast miranda to the stones in a heartbeat. but fray? well...

there will come a time, years from more the fool me (the unwise lord)'s timeline perhaps, where she will realize the beauty in risking it all for the one that sets your heart aflame. as of now, where we stand, on the cusp of chapter 10, she is unwilling to reach her hand out and spare the woman she loves from betrayal. that, ultimately, is why alcifras is a tragedy.

if they'd met under different circumstances, if things had played out just a bit differently...

who knows what could've been?