#and i opened ps after 2 months for this lol

[katronautt]

pedro pascal characters be like...

[white-poppie]

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎯⎯⎯ Part II of the '𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇' series

SYNOPSIS: In the bleakest times of your life, there kindled a little ember in you. Tsukiko, moon child, you were coping, one way or another. But dark clouds claw at the litte light of hope in your life as you come face to face with Suguru again.

TW: crying, teen-pregnancy, panic attacks, lactation, depression-like symptoms, post-partum, adoption,, self-loathing, su!c!dal ideation, jealousy, mentions of suguru's twisted ideals of a perfect jujutsu society, big sad :(

A/N: Thank you for all the support to this series!! Ps! look out for the symbolism in objects, i used big brain power lol. Plus I am sooooo sorry for delaying this so much

NOTE: reader is in her last year so she'd be around 17-19 :) This big sad will build up to happiest happy in the last part so bear with me.

WC: 4k lmaooo

Series masterlist Pt1: 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Part 3 Now playing: Part 2

The child, a baby girl, lay giggling and cooing in your arms as you look down at her with warmth in your eyes. She's the spitting image of an angel with her wide and expressive eyes, her small nose, a sharp arch exactly like her father, pink flushed cheeks and a tuft of soft dark black hair on her head…She looks exactly like Suguru.

She is a talkative baby, her little pink lips opening and closing wit soft 'pops', thats quite literally talking, what even is the difference when you are holding a squishy 2 month old? Her hands and movements are disoriented, jerky, flailing her chubby little arms and legs without care.

Her tiny hand reaching up to grab at your strands of hair, her big eyes looking curiously at your hair, observing how it moves with her tiny wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart, let mama do shopping for you." you whisper to the tiny baby strapped to your chest as you go around picking the essentials

She looks up at your voice, her lips almost forming a little pout and you can't help but coo lightly at her cuteness. You resist the urge to snap another photo and send it to Shoko to which she would always reply with a boring thumbs up emoji, but you know well how she smiles after seeing her god-child.

"Let's see what we have... we got the diapers, baby oil, flour, we got the veggies and other stuff...ah pear, we should get some pears." you say to the baby. It was difficult to think singularly in singular pronouns, it was the two of you-- it was 'us', 'our' through and through.

You walk down to the fruit isle, looking for some pears. Eventually you find the last pack in the thin mesh. Your hands reach forward to grip it and so does another. Your heart ceases. There is no way you wouldn't recognise that hand. The faint tan under which lie a constellation of protruding green veins. Fingers with a naturally large nail bed, the skin around it slightly discoloured. Suguru. There was no doubt it was him, you didn't even need to look up or rather you didn't have the strength to.

You suddenly wanted to laugh. You felt like a tragic greek hero, comung across your beloved, a bit too late. Orpheus and Eurydice, Hyacinthus and Apollo. Achilles and Patroclus. But the real tragedy was, as the poets said, "I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

"Suguru..." You whisper out breathlessly as you finally dare and look him in the eye.

His name leaving your lips like a plea tears straight through his chest, his heart aching at the sound of his beloved's voice again. He can't help but feel his heart racing as he looks at your face, drinking in the sight of your tired but radiant face. "Y/N," he murmurs out.

He feels sick, how instantly his sleep-deprived body finds solitude at the sight of you. Relief flooding into his lungs, spreading throughout his veins like a chasm. Its shattering, he feels like a man who was lost in a desert after having left his paradise for a mirage of an oasis.

His body is on fire, his muscles searing to envelop you, to somehow make you melt into him and never let go. His vision blurs, watery, and then suddenly, his breath stills, when his eyes fall onto the soft bundle safely strapped to you chest. An appearance uncanny similar to his, its alive, living. His ears buzz in trepidation. On one hand you stand in front of him and he wants to fall on his knees and tell you how miserable and lonely he was, how being the villain in everyone's story, including yours doesn't bother him anymore, but that child...

"Is that.." he murmurs, but his voice trembles more that he would have liked it to.

Your eyebrows etch into a small frown, you almost want to scream at him for even asking this question. "Obviously." You reply your eyes darting to the aisles in the mart.

His breath stutters and his palms turn cold. No, no, no, no, no. A soft gasp leaves his mouth. The revelation tumbling down him. he had thought of everything. He was ready to face anything, and every consequence, and yet somehow some way he had forgotten to calculate a variable. A variable that was a variable that you, a variable was his child.

He killed his parents without hesitation, left the walls of the quaint house he grew up in all sullied with but somehow the sight of you with his child brings him to his knees. He wants to sob, rest his head on your knee and shakily kiss you and the baby in forgiveness.

"That's my child..." he says, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. With his silken black hair and nose bridge, the same bright black eyes he had as a kid....that's his

You take in a deep breath and nod, your heart pounds in your chest till it aches. "Tsukiko." You whisper out, your voice hoarse as you look at the little girl

Suguru has to bite his lip just to keep himself sane, memories of that bittersweet night flooding in and he feels he would topple over the pear rack.

"Tsukiko...she's named Tsukiko..." He says out and his hand shakes. That's his blood, his daughter and yet he is the farthest thing from a father. Seeing her so close to you, the way you are fussing over her, it has his throat run dry by the intensity of a ground marred from rain, a rain that fell always but now doesn't fall in the courtyard of his heart, leaving all the plants of humane emotions, wilting and dry.

He can't help but murmur out, "A pretty name. It suits her." He whispers out softly, gently reaching out a hand towards the small child. "May I?"

You look at him as a strange anger wells up within. You want to refuse, yet you want to cry in his sturdy arms, for him to envelope you so hard that you can't breathe. You want to beg him to come back, and yet you want to slap him and tell him to never show his face.

You want him to stay, to apologise for letting some as young as you go through pregnancy alone. You want him to apologise for leaving you in a state where the shadows around you seemed to warp in oddly threatening shapes, where intrusive thoughts had you so scared you had to call Shoko or Satoru just to listen to their voice, so that you feel real and don't end up doing anything stupid.

You want him to go back to your dorm room in jujutsu high, where all of his belongings are untouched like the day he left.

You gently unclasp her from the carrier. “Support her neck, she’s only two months old.”

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently takes the child into his arms, watching as you gently unclasp her from the carrier and gently place her into his arms. His heart hammers in his chest as he carefully and gently supports her small, fragile neck, feeling her small frame in his arms. Tsukiko blinks her wide eyes in confusion, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.

You feel anguished, thinking of what life could have been if Suguru had never left for his goals. What if you hadn’t lost half of your soul that day.

His heart aches as he holds the small baby in his arms, thinking of all the moments he will lose out on seeing now. Never seeing her first steps, her first words, never reading her bedtime stories, never having her call him ‘daddy’. He will never get to see her experience the feeling of pure and unbridled joy for the first time, or seeing her face light up at all the small, everyday things that make children happy. He knows he has missed so much already, and the thought of missing more...

His heart aches and his breath catches in his throat as he feels the small child’s bottom lip tremble slightly, her head turning up to look at you with a conflicted look in her eyes. He can feel her small frame quiver slightly in his arms, probably still confused by the fact that she is in a stranger’s arms, but she isn’t crying to get away from him. The fact that she’s not crying to get back into your arms makes him want to laugh and sob all at the same time.

"Tsuki." You whisper out as you gently brush your fingers on her face. For some odd reason you don't want her to cry in his arms. After all the pain he has inflicted on me, Iyou still don't want him to be hurt by his girl crying to get away from him.

You take a sudden breath as your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, and suddenly you feel so small, so alone. With Tsuki away from your chest, even though she is right in front of you, you feel a strange fear of abandonment.

His heart races as he feels your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, your fingers leaving a scorching heat in their wake even though you’re only brushing against his arm. Your fingers are icy cold, and it’s just then that he realizes that you have tears streaming down your face, the droplets running down your chin and dripping onto the linoleum flooring of the grocery store. Your shoulders are trembling and you’re trying to hold back your sobs, but he can hear your strangled breaths.

"Give her back to me and leave." You whisper out as you bite your lips. Its not fair, It hurts so much. You have been so strong until now, taking care of everything, but now he is here and everything is rushing back like a riptide, knocking you off your feet, making you fall face-first onto the sand

He can feel his eyes widening in shock as your strangled words reach his ears, his heart aching painfully as he holds back the urge to cry out. He watches you struggle to stop tears from streaming down your face, watching the way your shoulders tremble as you try to hold back your sobs, watching as you fight back the urge to just hold the baby and run back to his arms.

"Geto." You murmur. Not Sugu, not Suguru. "Give me my child back," You whisper as you look at him, your hand clutching your chest as it aches so painfully. "Are you having fun seeing me make a spectacle of myself in the middle of a mart?" You croak out, but your voice doesn't waver.

His heart breaks as you call him ‘Geto’ in such a cold, detached voice. He gulps and hand the baby to you, his hands immediately feeling so empty, thats his daughter, his little girl. He wants to hold her, kiss her head, kiss the beautiful woman who brought her to life, but he is going to make a new world, and when all that is done, you would all be a family....

You gently tuck Tsukiko back in the carrier as he hands her to you and walk out of the mart, towards the exit. The groceries forgotten. You will buy them some other day. Each step is so difficult.

You wanna go back to him, cry in his arms, sob and hit his chest. Standing underneath a stop as you dial your phone to Satoru and he answers. "Satoru...can you pick us up?" you murmur tiredly, your voice hoarse

The moment he heard your voice over the phone, Satoru felt his heart dropping to his stomach. He can hear the way your voice is strained and hoarse, and he can sense the way that you are on the verge of tears. Satoru swallows the lump in his throat as he stands up from his desk and grabs the keys off his desk. “I’m on my way.”

You nod and cut the call, staring blankly at the clouds. You hear the automated door of the mart open and look at Suguru exiting the mart, three polybags in his hands as he walks up to you and keeps two of them on the ground. You look at the bag...its all the things in my cart and the pears.

Your lip trembles as I look up at him, eyes bleary. Tsukiko is now peacefully asleep against your chest. Her faint smell, that of baby powder and milk...It lingers from Suguru too, your head pounds.

He faintly smells like her too now and the way he looks at her, like he is aching, his eyes begging--- they are peading in the same way as they were on the night which lead to Tsuki. I wish I can have what I love, but to protect what I love, I must make a society where those I love ⎯ sorcerers: you, Tsuki, Satoru, Shoko ⎯ are safe

"Go, it's about to rain soon. You'll catch a cold if you get wet." You whisper out tiredly.

His heart aches as he watches you whisper out your words, the exhaustion plain on your face. He can’t bear to see you struggling and forcing yourself to be strong when he is the sole reason for your pain. And as he hears your tired voice, he just can’t help the way his hand reaches out to gently brush the tear away from your cheek. “Y/N…don’t cry,” he whispers.

You look at his hand caressing your cheek before a soft sob escapes your mouth. His touch making goosebumps rise all over your body. “Don’t do that, you have no right to when you decided to leave….” You say as you weakly push his hand away, but it’s so feeble and weary that it’s like a gentle nudge.

A fresh wave of tears builds in your eyes, and all he wants to do is draw you into his arms and hold you until your sobs fade away. It kills him how weak you are, how weak his leaving has made you. He wants to hold you and never let you suffer like this ever again. But how could he after he’s the one that caused this pain to begin with?

His phone rings, an unfamiliar contact name flashes on his screen. Mimiko with a little childish flower emoji next to it.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach; to the point that you feel as if you are having morning sickness all over again.

"That's your girlfriend?" you ask with a soft chuckle, as you don't feel this ugly cold wave wash over you, you feel your limbs stiffen, your teeth chattering at how cold I feel.

Its as if your heart has closed off, putting up a barrier around it and locking away all those painful emotion that he has inflicted on you. He looks down at his phone, seeing a picture of Mimiko and Nanako, the little girls he rescued and adopted 11 months ago, smiling in the caller ID. "Y/N..no..."

"You don't have to defend yourself y'know." you say with a fake breathy laugh as your hand supports Tsumiko's sleeping head to your chest. "Not that it matters anymore."

He bites his lip as he stares at your expression, his heart being "I’m not gonna defend myself but...those are my kids, not my girlfriends," he says softly.

Your eyebrows furrow as your grip on Tsukiko tightens instinctively. "...What?" Its too much. Its way too much for you to handle, your ears ring uncomfortably, yet you try to stand firm.

"Mimiko and Nanako..." He swallows nervously, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I-I found them, when I left you. They are sisters. Their parents were murdered, and they were in such horrendous conditions that I just had to rescue them," he stutters, feeling a sudden uncomfortable rush of warmth on his cheeks from his heart racing.

"I see, uhm thats very nice of you." You mutter with a little smile. "Having two daughters, must be nice. something positive amongst all that you are doing..." You say, but your throat runs dry. He has two daughters. That’s basically a family. He is raising them out of goodwill and love, it’s optimistic.

Your heart aches as you think about Tsukiko. Her mother still stuck to her past, clinging to her lover.

Most of the days you can't tell the date from start to finish. You blankly do all the work, function normally but trapped in this surreal dream that you can't snap out from, until your back hits the bed and you stare at a picture of you and Suguru on the bedside. Finally crying, showing some humane emotion after acting like a non-sentient being.

He has two daughters. Who first had happy lives with their parents until they tragically died, and were taken in by an equally loving caretaker.

Your expression turns from shock to something a little more painful, a sad half-smile that looks like it’s masking the emotional turmoil that he can see building up beneath it. He can see the way that your shoulders droop a little, your head bowing just a fraction more towards your chest. He can see your fingers tightening just slightly around Tsukiko, "Yeah..it is...” he murmurs out weakly.

“I am glad…every child deserves a home.” You mutter genuinely, but you feel so so terrible, like the worst person on earth that you am jealous of those little girls. Those little kids who get to live with their adoptive dad, a happy life. Full of joys and laughter. While Tsukiko was born in such despair. So much pain. Her mother, her godparents; everyone suffering in the tumultuous Jujutsu society. But what about Tsukiko, who's only fault was being born, why does she have to experience this tragedy?

Suguru's heart shatters as he watches you silently struggle and hold back your tears. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He did this to you. He did this to you, and now his two adopted children are getting the life that he ripped from you. That he denied you. There’s so much you already hear from people, about your character. When your only crime was being in love

“I won’t tell her that you have kids when she grows up.” You say with smile. “Wouldn’t want her to think she’s not a good kid and that’s why her dad left her for other children who are better than her. She’ll think her daddy didn’t like her.” You mumur. “Kids can be particularly fragile…who would know better than a mother who’s a kid herself?”

His heart drops at your cold, quiet words, his breath catching in his throat, tears building in his eyes at the pure agony that he can feel in your words. The way you’re already resigning yourself to being a single parent all alone. The way you can only do this because you’re still a damn kid yourself. Suguru heaves breathlessly as he gulps, his bottom lip trembling. The words don't leave his mouth. He should just ask you to come with him, to live with him, to be together as a family, a big family.

“At least raise them well Suguru…the two of them should get a safe environment. You look down at Tsukiko, your fingers gently brushing the little hair on her hair. She’s so tiny, hasn’t even gotten hair on her head fully.

Suguru's hands shakes as he takes a step closer, just basking in the sight of his beloved and his daughter. "Yeah," he mutters. "They are good kids, my girls..." he says in a faint whisper as a soft smile graces his face at the sight of Tsukiko's pudgy cheeks.

What a mighty child, she can stop world wars, she has him stopped and he is the closest thing to be a cause of a war in near future.

My girls? Your knees buckle at the words. “Ah I see… they are your girls.” You can't help but be bitter at his phrasing as you look at our little Tsukiko. She looks so much like her daddy. From her eyes, nose, hair, skin…she is a replica of him and yet he’s never had the chance to call her his child. It’s so cruel.

He feels a sharp spike of pain shoot through his heart at your words. His girls…not our girls. His girls. He doesn’t have the right to have you call them our girls. They’re just his. All because of him.

“Will she ever be your daughter Suguru…?” You can’t help but mutter so shakily, your voice quivering like a child’s as tears roll down your eyes…you feel so small it’s embarrassing.

A soft breathy sob leaves Suguru, he can't do this, he is goddamn monster. The sound almost makes you flinch as you look up at him. He sucks in a deep breath and holds it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “How could I...she’s…” he struggles to get the words out. “She’s ours. She’s ours and she’ll always be ours.”

Suguru sakes his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, he so goddamn dizzy. "She is my daughter, Nanako and Mimiko are my kids." he says, the change of a synonym making such a huge difference in the meaning.

"And you- you are mine, you have no- no idea who difficult it has been, I can't even try to compare, but I've missed you so goddamn much." his voice cracks. "And its so lonely, the girls they see me staring at your picture everyday and I tell them that's their mother. When they ask where you are, I tell them how I messed up- left to protect you, because you do not agree with my ideas, I thought you would be better off without me, that you'd move on slowly. But there's my daughter and I feel so guilty. You cannot move on, not when she is a reminder of me, of us. Of our youth."

The tears don't drop, but they pain is etched on his face, deep frown and upturned brows. You breathe out and shake your head. "I can't-" you murmur and he bites his lip, his index finger lightly running on Tsukiko's palm.

"I know." he says, "I just wish- I just wish I had more time, with you and Tsukiko." he whispers in the same soft tone as he conflicted eyes look into yours as if to say. Come with me, leave the jujutsu society, just us, our family.

But leaving with Suguru meant betraying everyone. Satoru, Shoko, Yaga sensei and the entirety of the sorcerers who work day and night for the future. A safe future from people like Suguru. Who heedlessly killed thousands of innocents.

"Go," you whisper out. "the girls must be waiting." You pause, your fingers shakily finding his and his eyes widen. He firmly squeezes your hand, the warmth of his hand against yours rouses and inexplicable pain and fondness in you.

"Satoru must be arriving." you mutter.

He nods his head slowly as he steps away, his voice thick. “I love you." he whispers out. The same words he had denied you the privilege of last time as he leaves...

Moments later a panicked Gojo pulls over, alarmed by your call before his eyes widen as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy. His best friend, the strongest along him. Gojo can feel a cold shudder wash down his spine as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy in the air, his breath catching in his throat as recognition hits him instantly, realising what may have happened.

You are sitting on the seats on the bus-stand as he comes close.He steps closer to you, his heart breaking upon seeing the dried tear tracks that are on your cheeks and the look of brokenness and despair in your eyes. He kneels down in front of you and gently rests his hand on your knee, his eyes gentle as he looks at you. “Y/N....” he whispers.

“Satoru…” You whimper softly, your voice cracking out of desperation and relief.

He quickly reaches up to pull you into a tight hug, his heart aching at the small, whimpering whisper of his name from your lips and the way your breathing hitches and a choked sob escapes your lips, the rest of your body quivering in his arms from the force of your tears. His arms are locked tightly against your body, keeping you pulled firm against his chest as you cry into your hands and he gently strokes a hand up and down your back. “Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.”

He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remains...

A/N: I sincerely apologise for the pain, but I don't have enough money for everyone's therapy.

EXP: Pear symbolism: In Chinese, the word li means both pear and separation, so it's said that to avoid a separation, friends and lovers should not divide pears between themselves.

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were

Chapter 2 

A/N: Background into the What we were story. Mentions of cheating, character death.

PS I didn’t mean to make you all hate Natasha 😭 I’ve just had this story for a long time in my mind and wanted to write it. Baby’s been through it and I promise in other chapters she’ll be better if that makes sense lol.

Six Months Earlier

It was a warm spring day. Flowers were blooming. In no time, grass would grow back to cover the grave.

As Clint’s coffin was lowered to the ground, it felt like time had stopped, or it had been altered.

You were all pretty much retired. The Avengers were a thing of the past.

So why was he on that mission with Kate Bishop?

Carol, still grieving over Maria, only sent flowers.

Natasha was away from everyone else. No one could approach her, not even you. She’d only talk to Anya or Laura.

It felt like she was punishing the team. 

You are all to blame.

Natasha almost threw Kate across the room the minute she tried to apologize.

That was the first wedge between her and Yelena.

She ignored everyone’s disapproving stares as well. And you knew what that distance meant.

Nothing and no one would get in her way to avenge Clint.

You were scared.

And rightfully so.

Natasha didn’t sleep, barely ate and simply stopped being present in your lives.

You heard her scoff and protest everytime you brought it up.

Laura is raising three kids on her own. And you think you have it hard?

One day, you begged her to come with you to therapy.

It could be good for us.

She agreed, if only to shut you up. Natasha never made it to that first session, nor did she apologize for her absence.

For the first time in your life, you could actually picture what it was like in the Red Room.

No feelings, no humanity.

Just a mission.

Before summer break, you asked Yelena to organize a family trip to celebrate Anya’s birthday.

Maybe Natasha could speak to Alexei or Melina. Maybe they’d understand.

Natasha refused.

“It’s for your daughter’s birthday,” you pleaded.

“We’ll do something else. Just the three of us. I promise”

Because she looked ashamed for the first time in months, you believed her.

It was a lie.

Yelena flew the next week, agreeing to look after Anya until school started again.

Your plan was simple; you’d help Natasha find all the information she needed. You’d finish the mission and then go back to normal.

The day after Yelena and Anya left, you went back to the Compound.

That’s where your wife was most nights, alone. Even Bucky had moved out years ago.

Still, you remembered every corner of this building.

It was your home, a long time ago.

Yours and Natasha’s.

Your first kiss, your first night together… It all happened here.

Curious about the things left in your old room, you walked over there, not even bothering to knock.

And there, you found Carol putting on a shirt and shorts, while Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.

“Shit” her skin paled the second you locked eyes. “Y/N, please”

The room was spinning, you couldn’t breathe and you were certain your heart would explode any minute now.

Natasha ran behind you, pulling you by the wrist to make you turn.

She was screaming, crying, begging. All the things you had done for the last four months to keep your family in one piece.

Going to Wanda’s old room, you locked the door, barely listening to her pleads on the other side.

It was the strangest feeling in the world. Your energy was drained, as if you’d come back from a mission and were fatally wounded.

Natasha was still there when you opened the door, a couple of hours later. You couldn’t feel your face and your voice sounded foreign as you spoke.

“You have until tomorrow to move out of the house”

“Please, don’t”

You walked past her, without sparing a single glance her way.

Were you dreaming? Because you didn’t feel anything as you left the building, driving straight to Bucky’s house.

But when he opened the door and you could see how concerned he was, you finally broke down.

Your family was destroyed.

And you couldn’t save it.

/

Taglist: @wandabear, @thatonebrazilian, @canvascoloredin

[sinning-23]

Glass Chandelier

Warnings: swearing, depictions of violence

Notes: Hellooo! This series is gonna be sorta gut wrenching or at Leary I’m gonna try to have it be lol. Let me know if your like to be added to a tag list and enjoy!

Ps. Pls ignore any spelling errors I did my bestest

Introduction

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Evening at the Baratie was as busy as usual. The brunch rush had well started and patrons tumbled in sitting at their designated tables they more likely waited months to get. It was a bit brighter than you would have liked but the booth you're sitting in is just right. Night time was more your speed at the floating restaurant but the waiter from last night had piqued your interest. As an attempt to see him again, you came in a bit earlier.

You sit, cross-legged and slightly impatient, hoping to see a mess of slightly wavy blonde tresses but he never shows. Part of you feels silly for entertaining the idiot but you simply couldn't resist an opportunity like this.

-the night prior-

"Fancy a drink with me after this?" He asks, smiling right back at you as you remove yourself from the booth and stand before him.

Your fingertips dance across the collar of his blazer and you cant help but to flick the hair that falls in front of his face away. He watches, cheeks tinting even darker as you flatten out his attire.

"I fancy far more than a drink.”You tease, circling him as he tries to find the words to respond to your far-from-innocent comment.

The blonde only chuckles in response and tries to fight the smile that creeps over his face. Damn, did you look good walking away.

Your head snaps towards the restaurant entrance as the doors sound as if they not only swing open but are slammed into the wall behind them. The other customers didn’t seem to notice, still enjoying their meals. As a reoccurring customer, you were well aware of the ‘No fighting inside’ rule they followed seeing as you’d watched that same waiter and many others break up a fight before they could even start. You reach for your pick, seeing not one or two, but three fish men that looked far from friendly stop down to the main floor.

If the current customers were paying attention before they were now as the slightly larger one lifted the man who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time out of his chair and threw him across the dining floor. It would be wise to leave now and you weren’t the only one with the same idea.

However, a sharp and quite threatening, “SIT DOWN” booms returning most to their seat.

Zeff, the man you’d grown quite close with as a reoccurring customer had stepped out amid the commotion, eyeing you and hovering his head a firm shake. If he knew you he knew you’d leave one way or another but this situation was different.

He was well aware of your ability to protect yourself but three against one wasn’t fair and these ‘gentlemen’ seemed far from it. You heed his advice, crossing your legs and sitting back down to sip your drink.

“If you don’t bring me that straw hat by the time I finish my meal, maybe I’ll start adding some of these nice folks to the menu.” He threatened, narrowing his eyes at your defensive frame.

How entitled did you have to be to not only ruin everyone’s meals with this nonsense but threaten to harm them as they are already cowering in fear?

It took less than a few minutes to finish you drink and once you were you had already removed yourself from the booth and was walking toward the exit. A hush falls over the hostages as your heels click against the tile.

“And where are you going?” The fishman who you’d learned was named ‘Arlong’ growls, the two lackeys eyeing you as if you spat at them.

Arlongs patients ran thin with humans if there was even any to begin with. So for you to not only NOT be afraid of who he was and what he could do to you while simultaneously ignoring his threats was enough to piss him off beyond comprehension.

“Leaving, I finished my drink. I thought that was obvious?” You speak, turning on your heel as the screech of the chair sliding on tile makes you stop again.

Reaching for your weapons would give you away too soon. The ice picks were more of a close combat weapon so until you were at the required amount of space, revealing them just to appear big and bad wasn’t wise. It was never really an option to begin with considering being flashy wasn’t your forte.

You were accurate and precise…calculated. That’s what mattered most in a fight. Sure raw talent and strength were great to have but critical thinking skills, common sense, and planning were things that weren’t quite easy to come by.

He’s towering over you now, your eyes scanning the surrounding area as well as his current physical state. If Arlong could throw a grown man damn near 30 feet away he’d surely break you in half without a second thought.

“Don’t you know who I am girl?” He growls, his fists clenched at his sides as you act as if he’s not a threat. It pisses him off more.

“Yeah, I just don’t care.”

He reaches for you, his hands going for your neck but you’re quick to duck, pulling the sliver of metal from your garter. You slice upwards, the point sliding from his ankle to mid-thigh. A hiss leaves his mouth as he tries to reach for you again but you slip between the opening of his two legs left before dragging the needles point down the left side of his back. A gasp leaves your mouth when a second pair of hands snatch you from your current position. Damn it.

Your arms flex and before Alrlong can even raise his fist your feet are off the ground and kicking firmly into his chest. It wasn't enough to fully push him back, just make his scoot maybe an inch back. You take the chance to flip out of your captor's grasp, Legs locking around his neck as you lift your pick.

Air leaves your lungs when you hit the floor of the Baratie and you feel the drink you'd previously finished rise up your throat after a swift kick to the stomach that sent you flying.

"Allow me to make an example. We all know fishermen are superior, but you just don't truly know the extent of that." Arlong growls, lifting you by your hair as you groan, pain shooting through your ribs.

His teeth sink into your shoulder as you thrash, doing anything you can to get him away despite the pain. Your flesh tears open, and the smell of your own blood fills your nose as it slides down your back and arm. A silent scream is stuck in your throat and when he finally decides to tear away a sizeable chunk he drops you, the thudd making patrons flinch.

The restaurant doors burst open for a second time and your heart almost bursts out of your chest when your blonde meets your injured frame. You managed to sit up against a pillar, pulling part of a tablecloth apart to dress your wound.

The straw hat Arlong had been looking for had stepped down, conversing with him briefly as the waiter seemed to pale just looking at you. It must be bad. You flash him a smile forcing yourself to stand as a bang sounds from beside you.

And when Arlong breaks Zeff's leg with a swift yet powerful kick, hell breaks loose.

You force yourself up, grab your picks, and sprint towards one of the two lackeys seeing as the blonde waiter was occupied with the other. You jabbed in his direction, missing by mere inches. A punch to your gut makes you gag and falter, the pain in your ribs shooting to the pain in your shoulder.

You growl, grabbing a discarded fork and jabbing it into the large-lipped fishman's calf. You stand, grabbing him by the collar before stomping your foot over the fork, diving it deeper, tearing a sizeable gash in the process. With a clenched fist, you wind up and punch as hard as your could before landing a final kick to his chest.

“BLONDIE!” You yelp, scrambling to get the waiter on his feet as he groans, his fans gripping his ribs.

Slinging his body partially over your uninjured shoulder, you also groan, limping to the kitchen the double doors whilst the straw hat boy and Arlong had moved outside. His lackeys followed. You sit the blonde down, immediately going back out to help Zeff. Pain shoots through you again as you huff, any adrenaline warns off now and you fight tears.

The kitchen is quiet, only the sound of the waiter's heavy breathing and your own filling it up as Zeff leans wearily in his chair. You whimper, touching the raw and open wound with a warm towel, the color becoming a deep red with every drop of blood it soaked up.

Hot tears slide past your cheeks as you to try and find some sort of reflective surface. The young blonde only limps after you. With steady hands he lifts you onto the counter, being mindful of the obvious injuries you’d earned in the fight.

Despite wishing you were dead instead of in excruciating pain, the action makes your heart flutter. He is much larger than you, his frame wider than you remember. His waist is a lot smaller too, it being seemingly curved and leading right to a pair of thighs you'd managed to lay your eyes on. The veins running up his arms look awfully tempting as they lead right down to a large pair of hands, one adorned with a ring.

His nails are trimmed and surprisingly clean. It's clear he takes care of himself, the smell of cigarettes and spice fills your senses. His lips are moving but you can’t hear any sound and his eyes are so concerned looking at you. Blue....so soft and so blue. His eyes crinkle at the side when he smiles...

“Hm?” You quip, cursing yourself for swooning when he gives you a faint smile.

After rolling up his sleeves, his fingers move along your torso, gently touching your sides as he repeats the question.

“What’s your name darling?”

His voice sounds so much better than you remembered. He's focused, fighting a grimace as he rinsed and rang out the cloth that's now soaked in your blood.

His hands are stained with the color, but so are yours at this point. He returned the towel to your injury, getting a fresh one soaked with warm water before brushing it over the palm of your hand oh so gently.

"Why, you wanna take me out on a date?" You tease, eyes meeting as you both share a smirk. "Well you just helped fight off 3 fishmen all of which were twice your size. I wanna know who I'm thanking for that." He speaks, the gentle caress of the towel stopping when his index finger lifts your chin.

A heavy sigh and grumble forces you to turn away. Zeff was still slumped in the chair watching this whole scene play out and quite frankly hed rather not watch his 'son' flirt with one of his more favorable patrons.

Perhaps the flirting could come to a brief pause. You open your moouth to answer and flip the question but he's already back out the door when someone come yelping for help.

Something about "Luffy" being thrown into the ocean and needing saving?

________________________________________________

Taglist: @waannty @strangermeats (yall reblogged i assumed you'd want to be notified of the next chapter lol)

[gothgoblinbabe]

Hi gorg! Hope You are doing okey... Really love You Logan Stories, i was wondering if you could make a story with this idea;

it would be like a next part or smt of "Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts" where Wade, Y/N and Logan are watching the Kardashians while having dinner on a friday night, Logan still can't believe Wade and Y/N like it, and like reader explain to Logan why they are famous and that Kim K did a s*x tape before the show realesed, Wade makes a silly comment to reader like "you has a big ass and def could be a Kardashian" after that when Logan and reader are alone for some reason they feel like it to make a s*x tape and do it. Of course it's a forbidden secret that won't leave their months and have to be extremely careful of Wade not finding it (ngl he would def watch it if he finds it lol)

Hope you have a great night/evenning/day 🌷✨🩷

Babes. I fear you’re cooking and I am at the table writing down the recipe holy shit

This is such a good idea I’m absolutely going to do this oh my gods you don’t even know I’m like pacing in circles in my living room rn w my hands together like a cartoon villain

I am absolutely gonna start on this asap and I can’t guarantee when it’ll be up BUT I’m gonna aim for the coming week so just keep ur eyes open!!

Also here the link to da OG post if you haven’t read it!

Ps you’re such a sweetheart THANK U for sending in anything at all but on top of that sending in the gold that is your request 🙏🫡💗💗

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[dollycxre]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ you'll see my face, in every place, but you can't catch me now.

-> "Make a wish."

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩

airi, she/her, minor, animal lvr, daydreamer, infp, multifandom writer, omniromantic bisexual, half-dead, half fairy, child of hades, always open to moots :3

-> rules

(a/n: im a minor so don't be freaky)

ps. fic ideas are appreciated, especially for fandoms that aren't pjo! (and you can just send me random thoughts about characters as well, I love that sorta thing)

-> PERCY JACKSON (BOOK SERIES)

magic in the making...

-> PERCY JACKSON (TV SHOW)

magic in the making...

->HEROES OF OLYMPUS

Yandere! Athena x Demigod! Darling - general hcs (fem reader)

yandere PJO! Hades x demigod! darling - general hcs

yandere! Hestia x fem! mortal! Reader - ♡ general hcs

yandere PJO! Percy Jackson x demigod! darling X yandere HOO! Jason Grace - general hcs

->TWILIGHT SAGA

magic in the making...

->TRIALS OF APOLLO

magic in the making...

->DORK DIARIES

magic in the making...

->MAGNUS CHASE

magic in the making...

->GREEK MYTHOLOGY

magic in the making...

->SEDUCE ME THE OTOME ( WOMEN ONLY)

magic in the making...

->HARRY POTTER HOGWARTS MYSTERY

magic in the making...

->CHALLENGERS

magic in the making...

->THE HUNGER GAMES

magic in the making...

->THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES

magic in the making...

->SCREAM (ALL 6 MOVIES)

magic in the making...

->TCOAAL (THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY)

magic in the making...

a/n: I don't support the incest part of this game so nothing for that!!

->JENNIFER'S BODY

magic in the making...

->PROJECT SEKAI

magic in the making...

->KPOP

A/N: I will only write for girl groups!!

magic in the making...

->PRETTY LITTLE LIARS

A/N: only the girlies!

magic in the making...

->HEATHERS

magic in the making...

->GIRL FROM NOWHERE

magic in the making...

->CARMEN SANDIEGO

magic in the making...

->AMERICAN HORROR STORY (coven, murder house, asylum, 1984 and apocalypse only!!)

magic in the making...

->MCU/MARVEL

A/N: once again, I will only be writing for the females!!

magic in the making...

->MIRACULOUS LADYBUG

magic in the making...

->BLUE LOCK

magic in the making...

->SPY X FAMILY

magic in the making...

->DDLC

magic in the making...

->EVER AFTER HIGH

magic in the making...

->HARRY POTTER

magic in the making...

->THE FOLK OF THE AIR

A/N: ask me about these after a couple of months, I still need to finish the series lol

magic in the making...

->ALL FOR THE GAME

magic in the making...

->MLP

magic in the making...

->FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S

magic in the making...

->OMORI

magic in the making...

->A GOOD GIRL'S GUIDE TO MURDER

magic in the making...

->DANGANRONPA 1, 2 AND 3

magic in the making...

->YANDERE SIMULATOR (maybe, I definitely don't support that pr3dator yand3v, so I probably won't write for this much or at all)

magic in the making...

->MANGA/MANHWA/MANHUA

A/N: please ask if I write for the specific one you want first!!

magic in progress...

!! IMPORTANT A/N: The fandoms listed below are the ones I won't write for very often or when I do, it'll probably not be reqs or asks ♥ !!

->GENSHIN IMPACT

magic in the making...

->HONKAI STAR RAIL

magic in the making...

A/N: The requests for Hoyoverse games are currently closed <;3

->BROOKLYN-99

A/N: I'll write for everyone except Holt, Kevin, Sarge, Boyle, Hitchcock and Scully

magic in the making...

->MODERN FAMILY

A/N: I don't write for Luke, Manny and Jay

magic in the making...

->ENCANTO

magic in the making...

->WEDNESDAY (NETFLIX SHOW)

magic in the making...

->YOU (NETFLIX SHOW)

magic in the making...

a/n: I used to keep up with this show only from 2018-2022 so I still gotta watch the latest season, so no reqs for that yet!!

!PLEASE ASK IF THERE'S A PARTICULAR FANDOM YOU WANT ME TO WRITE FOR THAT ISN'T MENTIONED HERE!!

[neospokenworld]

SPRING ANIME 2024 FINAL THOUGHTS

So just like I did months ago with my first impressions post, here are my final thoughts on every anime I started watching that was ongoing this season. I'm gonna list them as they end to be more organized and not have it jump around, so before we start, here's a quick section about the anime I dropped:

Astro Note: I forgot it existed past the first episode not gonna lie lol, I'll probably resume it in the future since it was a fun first episode but other than that nothing else to say

High Speed Etoilé: I wanted to like this so badly, the story could've been interesting but from what I saw it never hooked me at all, plus the 3d was very rigid so overall it wasn't as good to continue

Spice & Wolf: This is one I'll surely resume in the future, I was liking what I was seeing but one day I just lost track of it and never returned. What I saw left me with a very good taste so this is one that I have to resume someday

Okay, now we can begin:

DUNGEON MESHI

Started watching this one when it was at episode 18 and caught up to it really quickly. I honestly wasn't expecting to like it for some reason but as soon as I started it I knew it was gonna be a fun ride altogether. Nice characters, a good story, excellent animation (I mean it's Trigger but this is like my 2nd anime from them) and food that I would 100% eat if it was real lol. I'm glad it's getting a 2nd season because I really wanna see how it continues

BARTENDER: KAMI NO GLASS

This was beautiful, what else can I say? I mean I knew that this anime would be different after watching the first episode, even joking to myself while watching it ''This is premium anime'' lol. Everything from start to finish had this soothing vibe to it that I absolutely enjoyed and not gonna lie I think from episode 6 onward it knew how to push the right buttons on me to make me more and more emotional, by the time I finished the final episode I was on tears of happiness hearing the credits. I don't know how the original was but I think this is a gem of an anime that surely deserves to be talked about more

YORU NO KURAGE WA OYOGENAI

It never stopped delivering peak, back when the first episode aired I knew it would be something special, and while it felt just a little aimless past the episode of their first concert, I think in the end it wrapped up the main points kinda nicely. This is a show that got me feeling emotional on a near weekly basis and always knew how to share banger episodes. Even if it wasn't yuri in the end it was still a beauty of an anime in my opinion, it only needs to polish a few small things here and there to be basically a masterpiece imo and hopefully the manga that is coming along with it can do it

SHUUMATSU TRAIN DOKO E IKU?

This was such a fun ride overall, I gotta admit back on the first episodes I had a feeling this would be something that would break me when they were close to Ikebukuro, but even if in the end it didn't it was still a really good ride from beginning to end. One thing I liked was how the conversations between the girls were a bit faster than in most anime out there, I don't know but that made them feel more natural to me, it was cool to see all of them interact with the weirdness of the world and ngl this finale actually moved me a little lol. Not the best but still a pretty good one all in all

PS: Both the Opening and Ending here are severely underrated, Ga-Ton Go-Ton is on my top 3 for OPs this season and Eureka is easily my favorite ED for the season, both of them are just so good both visually and musically it's surprising to say the least

Part 2 will come when the other 4 end, so probably early next week

[x-populuxe]

First-lines-of-fic meme! I was tagged by @destinationtoast. 😘

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

So...I have published ten fics total, and rather than posting the first lines of every single one of them, I’m going to mix this up and do my five most recent as well as my five current WIPs, because I have somehow become a person with five substantially written WIPs, I cry. (This is clearly an attempt at public accountability, help lol).

All fics are X-Men, of course, and unless otherwise marked, Charles/Erik:

Published!

1. “to put the world between us” (25K words, actor AU)

The drive should take two hours, but Erik manages it in ninety minutes, using his powers to floor the gas pedal as he scrambles the occasional police scanner. When he whips into the hotel parking lot in a spray of gravel, Emma’s mental greeting is half is half warm, half weary.

2. “Unlived Histories (The Double Vision Remix)” (18K words, remix, time travel)

Erik didn’t know it then, but everything started to change on Charles’s sixteenth birthday.

3. “Correspondence” (13K words, part of a canon-divergent series set in 1963)

When Charles wakes, he stretches out his mind and then his arm, groping at the opposite side of the bed. Erik isn’t there, though the sheets are still warm.

4. “What We Inherit” (20K words, David & Charles, father-son bonding)

David first starts to suspect that something’s up when his father gets a phone call very early on Tuesday morning.

5. “the way it travels in and keeps emitting light” (29K words, accident and recovery, enemies to friends to lovers)

Erik lets himself into Raven’s building on Friday evening, waving a hand as the locks click open. As he rides the converted freight elevator up to the top floor, he sinks his powers into all those sturdy old pulleys and gears—one thing on the long list of reasons he prefers Raven’s apartment to his own.

WIPs!

(obviously these are not set in stone)

1. The “Charles bailing Erik out of jail” fic I am currently writing for @ikeracity for Fandom Trumps Hate! (Ike you get a sneak peek lol) (ps I'm legit obsessed with writing this fic rn, thank you again for your prompt):

 “One phone call” is only a thing in the movies—but the cops don’t give you unlimited phone calls, either. This turns out to be a problem when all your friends were either arrested alongside you or are completely fucking worthless.

2. Multiverse/time travel fic that begins 8 months after the events of XMFC:

They’re moving quickly through the woods that surround the facility when Emma slows and makes a clicking sound with her tongue. Erik holds out his arms to halt the rest of the group.

3. Sequel to “What We Inherit,” still about David & Charles, but also with some (semi-hostile) cherik as well:

It’s a beautiful late-summer day, with a bright blue sky stretching above the sandy dunes that extend from the house out towards the Atlantic.

But David can’t see any of that right now, because he’s sitting in his bedroom, reading a book.

4. Media AU (trust me, this first line makes sense in context lol):

DAVID REMNICK: This is The New Yorker Radio Hour. I’m David Remnick.

5. Big Billions AU I started writing in early 2020 🥲 that I’ve finally picked up again this year:

Crowds, the common wisdom goes, are one of the truest tests of a telepath’s strength and skill. Never mind that there’s far more to telepathy than brute force and blunt shielding—with a packed train or a busy bar or a stadium full of revelers, it’s easier to see just how effectively a person can block out other minds.

This is a fun exercise, especially to look at patterns! Tagging @rozf, @gerec, @ikeracity, @midrashic, @joshriku, @arcanewinter, @jackyjango, + anyone else who wants to do this! (If anyone else wants to put their WIP opening lines out there, join me!!!!)

[nardonotes]

16 sep '24

8:18pm

IM SO TIRED!!!!! MY BODY HURTS!!!!!!!! I WANT TO SLEEP BUT I ALSO HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO DO!!!!!!!!!! (ᴗ_ ᴗ。) but today my alarm woke me up at 7am but i stayed in bed till 7:40... i slept well too and had a crazy dream but i forgot what happened,,, i just rmbr it being crazy (good-ish?) to the point where i wanted to go back to sleep to finish it but ended up just forcing myself out of bed,, fufufuff~ and THEN i went to class :< which is actually a :> cause it was fun! i did some black and white designs for design class and the two hours passed by so fast,, after that i had a 3 hrs break and just walked home, rest for a bit, then went out to town to send my cv to this photo printing shop (fujifilm) for my work experience. they said they dont usually take work experience (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) but it's ok cause i have two other places i can apply for work experience (it's mandatory in my course) i been going to fujifilm for years now, literally since it opened too, they know my name and email off by heart cause i always get my film develop there so i really hope they let me in!!!! it's only till christmas sniff.... BUT ANYWAYS, after i gave them that- i went to buy a sketchbook cause my lecturer said it would be a good idea just to have one where i can draw whatever and i bought one (1) pencil LOL.

then had a 2 hours class right after, but it was chill. nothing too serious and just worked on updating my cv and cover letter :3 after class, I WENT HOME AND ATE :D i dont usually like chicken but THIS CHICKEN WAS REALLY FUCKING GOOD MAN,,, i had it with rice and it was so filling. and while i was washing my dishes, my sisters arrived home and AFTER THEY ate,, we went to the park with my sisters friend and her baby. he's so big now sniff,, i rmbr when he was literally a few months old and tiny af. now he looks about 3 years old but hes only 1 years old. they're leaving to live in amsterdam in a month or two and it's so sad cause i only just got closer to her. it's ok tho cause amsterdam is close enough, and her parents still live here so she'll be in and out i think :)) we got gelato before going home and i got kinder bueno flavoured (THE LAST SCOOP TOO) it was so good. i dont usually eat ice cream out of the blue like that, i usually get a drink instead but since it was just a scoop i had some.

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

what a long ass day fr,, i know im going to sleep good tonight too. i bought Notes of a Crocodile, The Analects of Confucius, and The Temple of the Golden Pavilion on my kobo (ereader). I do plan to buy the physical copies of all three, but not right now and it was just cheaper to buy it on the ereader.. I've read a few chapters of the temple of the golden pavilion before but never continued but my bestiana spoiled the ending and now i want to finish it bc the ending was a good ahh ending (imo). i can't wait to read before i sleep tonight,, reading so fun huhuhhu..... (⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝)

these days, i've been really into my lil tech stuff again and i really want to homebrew a ps vita. i homebrewed my old nintendo 3ds but sold it for a [REDACTED] reason lol. i think a ps vita is cooler anyways. i also been really into micro journalling and coding. btw i cant code but i do like listening to ppl talk about coding and what they've coded. i wish i was smart enough to do allat.. i think i could if i really put my heart to it but right now i'm really liking my course. ill probably talk about it some more in the future but for now, i have written a fucking book and nobody reading allat!!! so im going to do my little me time before bed time and then go to sleep ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

goodnight to me, and my precious bed, and my precious favourite girl in the world and and and- [GUNSHOTS]

[protoindoeuropean]

@erikag59

Oh yes, people are indeed generally quite surprised when they hear about a party forming 3 months before the elections and then winning.

But for us in Slovenia this "experimental" approach comes as no surprise, because that has already happened before ... twice

To bring out a graph I've already posted here before:

These are the results of the parliamentary elections since 1992, with the paries approximately ideologically arranged: the aquamarine of DeSUS serves as an approximate centrist dividing line between the left-leaning parties below it (DL is a notable centrist exception, but I liked its downward curve there lol) and right-leaning parties above it)

There's quite a mess in the bottom part of this graph. That is the left-leaning voting block, which has chosen to rally behind a different party in every consecutive election after 2008 – following the collapse of LDS, the OG centre-left party that ruled from 1992 to 2004 (with a short, half-year intermission in 2000), back in 2006~2007 – being dissapointed with the results each time:

PS, which won the most votes in 2011, was established a bit more than 2 months before the elections by Zoran Janković, the mayor of the capital Ljubljana (2006–2011, 2012– ). What followed was one of the weirdest sequences of events in Slovenian political history* (though definitely not the weirdest one).

SMC, which won the most votes in 2014, was established a bit more than 1 month before the elections by Miro Cerar, a highly respected legal scholar.

LMŠ, which didn't win even close to the most votes in 2018 (but ended up leading the government), was the party of the mayor of Kamnik, Marjan Šarec, who had worked as a political satirist before going into politics himself (most prominently, he was a famous imitator of Slovenian politicians – well, mostly:

). His national-level political project started a bit earlier as a surprisingly effective challenge to the incumbent Borut Pahor at the 2017 presidential elections (though the latter did end up winning), carrying that political potential into the 2018 parliamentary elections.

GS, which won the most votes in 2022, was, as mentioned, established 3 months before the elections by Robert Golob after Janša made him (practically out of nowhere) into his direct opponent (the the post in the link above).

So, the continual emergence of left-leaning parties at every election is not a surprise anymore at this point, it's a pattern. Which can be frustrating, but it does also mean that when people (especially in the foreign press) see the consistently high results of Janša's SDS and think that that means that party is going to win the next election, that's deceiving. Despite SDS's consistent results, we've only had right-wing governments for about 8 of the 33 years of independent Slovenia (1991–92, 2000, 2004–8, 2012–13, 2020–22).

*In 2011 Janković failed to form a coalition and we had to endure 1 year of Janša, before his govt collapsed and PS did eventually take over, with its then-president Alenka Braušek becoming PM – the Janša govt collapsed because of the opening of a corruption investigation regarding both Janša and Janković; Bratušek took over PS while the charges against Janković were being investigated. In a turn of events that are hard to conceive of, a year later, when the corruption commission didn't find anything, Janković challenged Bratušek for the presidency of the party, while she was the sitting prime minister of the country. She lost the party election, splintering the party in two, with a significant part of the PS membership (including Robert Golob, interestingly enough) following her in forming her own party (ZaAB, later SAB). In the process, she resigned as PM, triggering snap-elections. PS, which received 28.51% of the vote in 2011, failed to reach the 4% threshold in 2014 (literally decimating its support down to 2.97%), falling into obscurity, while ZaAB did get into parliament (barely, with 4.38%).

Bratušek was again successful with getting into parliament in 2018, before being swallowed up by Golob's GS in 2022 (quite literally: after its electoral failure, SAB – together with LMŠ – officially merged with GS in June 2022). She is currently the Minister of Infrastructure. Janković is still the mayor of Ljubljana.

[ae-neon]

May I suggest a chaotic (?) ship idea?Since the UtM plot is giving a struggle?

Feyre×Tamlin (the OG and the best🥺)

Nesta×Rhys (Cursed but also intriguing asf-the true enemies to lovers if you think of it)

(I also always have thoughts of Nesta×Amren which is another cursed one but also not sensible to the plot ig)

Elain single fae/human and with grayson and helping build human-fae relationship or whatever(yes I'm the same anon who suggested this before if you remember)/or if she has to be Fae for the plot or something and has to be paired-Cassian.It's a new ship to me.Or Lucien.Really anything you want honestly.There are so many ways you can take her considering we don't really know much about her Canon wise.

Basically it follows canon somewhat where Feyre gets taken and Nesta follows and later after coming back they go back Utm because Feyre and Tamlin and maybe we can say Nesta goes for Clare?(idk I'm terrible at stuff like this😭)

Though if we do have Nesta×Rhys then maybe the Rhys' abuse of Feyre UtM should be dialed back/removed?Because I just can't see Nesta being with someone who would do that to Feyre.Though would be completely okay to see him morally grey as long as it is acknowledged by the narrative.

I hope this makes sense-It's 4AM here and I've been up for over 24 hrs....on another note uour world building posts have been absolute art🤌🏻

Whatever you do with this rewrite-it is going to be so good!!!You're so creative like omg-

Also hope I'm not being overbearing or rude with this message.Sorry if the tone is off.

-Vote change anon here btw😭

I have been signing some messages and not signing others but I think I will just think of a name to identifying myself with soon enough lol.

Ok.I'll leave it here.I'm exhausted-and I feel like I'm rambling and I'll regret it later on when I open tumblr when I'm more awake.

Hope you had/have a great day :)

And that none of this was too weird-I clearly went off track😭

My lovely anon

I won't lie, the OG ship is so tempting - especially when considering really playing into the Ballad of Tam Lin.

(I ship that cursed enemies to lovers ship)

Elain is a wildcard for me. But she'll probably end up being the biggest insight into the mortal lands worldbuilding.

Spoilers?

When Nesta leaves to go after Feyre, she tells Elain to:

Go stay with Clare (who then introduces her to Graysen)

Go south to the Capital if she's not back in a month (but comes back in a month)

Go south to the Capital (and that's where Elain is until book 2)

I haven't decided yet.

UtM interactions are gonna be different while still including some canon elements. Hope you trust me.

PS hope you sleep well and find a cute anon name

[kosmicplumbobs]

Obligatory Simblr Intro

NAME = Kosmic or Luna

ASPIRATION = Knowledge / Family

LTW = Total World Domination

GENDER PREFERENCE = Pansexual

TURN ONS | TURN OFFS = Intellects & Gamers | Imbeciles

OTH = Simming

SKILLS = Singing & Art-ING lol

ABOUT ME =

I am a very chill and relaxed person. I often keep to myself a lot but have recently started to open up more and am attempting this thing called socializing lol. So I've been playing Sims since a few months after the Sims 2 came out. They actually sold it at the school book fair that year and after seeing a friend of mines install it on a school computer, I was hooked. Been a fan ever since. I own 2, 3, and 4 (though now that 4 is free to play now that doesn't mean much to say you own it but I did get it for free back when they gave it out for free). I actually haven't played Sims 4 due to not having a compatible pc for it so me and my dinosaur pc has be thriving playing Sim 2 & 3. I've also played spin offs. The Urbz for the ds was pretty good. I owned Sim City for the ds for a while but got bored with it real fast. Same with Sims 3 for the DS. I preferred the pc version. I did play the Sims 2 DS version a relative had and it was pretty good though I never got to finish my save.

My earliest memory? This would be the weekends where made a Sims 2 neighborhood from scratch by stealing the lots from the base game neighborhoods and then I made all the families myself. Made about 6 or 8 families before playing them rotationally. Didn't even know that was a thing at the time and my rotations were sporadic. But that was some of the best fun I ever had. I made little storylines to go with the families in a notebook and also used the notebook to record the days spent in the rounds. Though at this time I made things complicated and tracked the rounds by their ages and not the days lol. It wasn't until a few weeks after that I would discover the amount of lore the game has and custom content. The amount of hours spent reading lore posts and downloading cc would be time well spent lol. I absolutely love the creativity the community has grown to become.

So about this blog? It's something I've been wanting to do for a while but life hasn't been the best for me to really dedicate time to a blog or getting to even play. At first, I just made this account to lurk. But now, I really just want a place to share my gameplay among those who will appreciate it. 😅 I don't have many people I can actually talk to about sims who genuinely seem interest and not just being nice about my excessive sims chatter. So here I am lol. Hopefully this blog journey lasts. But more importantly, I hope I can just have fun sharing and creating sim memories within the community. I think that's about it lol. Anyways, thanks for reading and happy simming!

PS: This is my simself, Luna Moone (not my real name). Or rather she's the closest thing to a simself I can come up with. Hopefully she looks good. 😊

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

<3

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵̹̜̣̒͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋í̸͇̩͔̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

[mistertf2xreaderfluffballcake]

OMG I DIDNT KNOW WE COULD SEND IN ASKS!!!

:D could you write about sniper confessing? :D if u have the time? :3

Ps: I love your writing :3 hope ur day is going good :3

Oh Hello! Welcome to my blog! Yeah! Request are allowed! Also I am doing very well :)) Thanks for asking! Hmmm Sniper....This will be interesting! Perpare for some cheesy writting!! Be perpared.

Sniper. He was such a shyyyy boy. He was so shyy around you! God help me. Every time he sees you his stomach just twists around like crazy. He thinks you are so perfect. You are kind, wholesome, patient, gentle, etc. Your smile is a masterpiece!! Lord help him. He...has liked you for a long time (same for you) He needed to confess his feeling to you. He can't keep it in for too long.

He had such a hard time confessing! He was overthinking so much! For a whole dang month, he was planning the confession, he even practiced in front of his mirror! lol. He is such a dork.

He already had the base of his confession done, it was going to take place in nature (yep) He wanted to make it perfect!

Confession day comes~

Sniper was so much shy and quiet around you these days. You wonder why. Did he perhaps felt umcomfortable around you?

You walked in to your room, then somethng caught you eye. There was a bow on your door. what the hell. You walked towards it...it had a note on it. You opened the paper carefully ''Join me at flower field location, today 3 p.m. -Sniper''

You blushed. The flower field was your happy place you always went their with sniper. But then you realized something you looked at the clock. OH SHIT! It was 2 p.m! it was in one hour! Fuckfuck fuck (the flower field was pretty far)

You quickly perpared to leave, you quickly did you hair. You just did traning so you know...messy hair. You then quickly left to the flower field.

You arivved at 2:45. Damn thank god I arived early.

You looked around the flowers... they were your favorite. You remember making flower crown here when you first joined the team. Then you heard ruffles. !?

You looked back, there was sniper holding something behind him. He was blushing. He is so cute...

You finally spoke ''Hi sniper!'' when you called his name his heart skiped a beat. ''Hi s/o...I want to tell you something that I have thinking about for a very long time.'' Your heart so fast right now.

~After a few momments~

''S/o, you are the most loveliest person I have ever met, your kindness had been making me feel different. I am in love. i-I like you s/o. Will you be my lover?''He then pulled out a flower behind his back. It was swaying with the wind.

You took his hand to yours. ''I-I like you too sniper :)'' R-Really?'' ''Yes, I have liked you for a long time now...Are you sure you want me to be your lover, there-'' (you were worried, he deserves more, you were inscure) He said out loudly ''s/o! You are the first and last person I will ever love! You mean the whole world to me!'' You were bright red he is so sweet, ''Sniper...can you bend down for a moment...''

He did as told and went down, you then kissed his forehead. ''I love you, sniper :) I am happy to be your lover'' ''I love you too s/o and I am happy to be your boyfriend''

For that whole day, you chilled with sniper at the flower field. You guys made flower crowns with each other and had so much fun with him. When guys went back to the base you guys were holding hands the whole time in till part you entered the base. You both let go and smile at each other. The whole team can't stop and wonder why both of you are such in a good mood.

P.S : Even to this day you still have the flower sniper gave you, you made it into a necklace/bookmark.

Wooo! That was nice. Damn I am on a roll today. I hope you enjoy this. Here is a flower crown for everybody who is reading this! (/*'▽')/ You deserve it queen/king/your highness!

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Tower

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | two

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re apart of the Refugee Relief Movement, an intergalactic organization providing aid throughout the systems, and you find yourself assisting at a resettlement camp in Lothal when disaster strikes, changing your life forever, intertwining your path with that of a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter.

Word count: 3.7k~

Rated: Mature

Warnings: descriptive violence, blood/injury mentioning, danger, mature language

Notes: Hi y'all, welcome. This fic is going to be set during Season 2 of The Mandalorian, and will be what I like to call ‘canon adjacent’. ALSo, this chapter is very much so Reader focused, setting up the scene and the general pacing of the story, but naturally, Din will be more and more featured as things progress. I’m a sucker for backstory and a slow burn, so ye be warned. Please feel free to reach out to me. :) I’d love to hear from you lovely little beans. Be safe out there, friends.

Lothal was a planet all too familiar with occupation.

You remember seeing a quote somewhere that read ‘Look no further than Lothal if you want to see what happens when the Empire takes control of an entire world’; and although the Imperial chokehold had loosened when the Empire fell, the planet, even all these years later, still found itself gasping for breath. 

Off world migration from the Core Worlds had been popularized since the expansion of the Imperial government bureaucracy, which brought booming business opportunities for the fortunate few, but as the rich became richer, the poor grew poorer. The Lothalites were forced out of their homes, off their own lands—refugees on their own planet; forced to resettle and relocate with nothing but the clothes on their back and the possessions they could cram into their pockets. The only heirlooms passed on from generation to generation were that of poverty, tall tales of former splendor, and the greatest of ancestral traumas: disillusionment.

The truly desperate turned to crime, and what couldn’t be solved by back-dealings and blaster fire was managed with fear mongering and the bitter flair of xenophobia. There was always a species to blame, and it was always the one who seemed to be doing better off, no matter how slight the margin. 

Greed. Fear. Despair. These are the currencies in which the galaxy trades. 

And so it was then, and continued to be, cycle after cycle. History, always finding clever ways to repeat itself.

On bad days, pollution still loomed heavy over the atmosphere—remnants of the fires from the Imperial occupation still clinging on to Lothal’s weary bones. She had been stripped during that time; gutted and strung up by her feet to dangle from the Empire’s meat hook, exsanguinated slowly, drop by drop, until she had nothing left to give. Her resources and minerals and ore and water and seed, robbed. Pillaged.

She’s free from it now, but the scars remain— the planet remembers. Her people do not forget. Like muscle memory, they all ungulate to this synthesized rhythm they can’t seem to shake, day in and day out, wandering. Forever unsettled.

The planet had always had a diverse population and had become something of a safe haven for other abandoned people fleeing their home worlds, determined to find somewhere - anywhere - for them to survive. Lothal provided that for them. It wasn’t rich or bountiful by any stretch, but it was simple and safe—safe in the way hidden things in plain sight are. One could blend into the crowd of many, unique faces, of all races and backgrounds; you could be anonymous, if you wanted. You could be free.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here in Jortho. You had been with the Refugee Relief Movement for the better part of what felt like forever, and they had transferred you to this planet not six weeks ago. You were out on rotation; the RRM sends someone new twice a cycle for the span of a month or two to varying locations to supply rations, aid with the influx of refugees, organize resettlement lodgings, and generally be of assistance when and where you could. However, your tenure on this temperate planet was coming to a close, and soon you’d be flying back to the headquarters on Coruscant before being bounced to another post somewhere out among the stars. 

You love your job. You know it’s unpopular to say, but you do. It’s fulfilling and impactful and indescribably special. The individuals you meet, the stories you hear, they’re invaluable— priceless and precious, like handmade trinkets crafted by the fingers of a child; you press them all to your heart, holding them there. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get to you— the weight of it; the plights of all of these people, all of these lives, burdening your conscience. It isn’t always painless— you aren’t immune to it. Even so, on most nights you manage to sleep easy, tucked away aboard the transport freighter you flew in on with the batch of settlers newly assimilated into town knowing Maker, at least you were doing something— anything— everything you could.

And really, to call Jortho a town would be an insult to all towns everywhere—but ‘town’ has a certain charm to it that ‘refugee camp’ simply did not, and it gave the people hope. Pride, even. That they belonged somewhere.

You suppose that’s all anyone wants. To belong. 

A feather soft gust of wind tickles the golden blades of prairie grass as the sun, bleary and tired, starts dipping from the sky. The crickbeets begin their song early, trilling, sensing Lothal’s moons still coyly tucked away, hiding somewhere along the horizon. A smile adorns your face, private and serene, as you bring a bowl of broth up to your lips, humming when the warm liquid meets your tongue. You sigh, contented, taking in the sights before you; how the dusk blurs the aromatic air, making it opaque, the shuttles docked across the way from you casting long purple shadows onto the flat plains, the snowcapped mountains in the distance bordering the cant of the planet’s surface, nestling Jortho in a shallow valley.

You feel calm, at peace, and take another sip.

An easy moment passes, and it’s the last one you get before silence stalks up from behind you.

You don’t notice it at first, like any patient predator, it goes undetected: the white noise, the nothingness— until finally, you do and then suddenly it’s everywhere. On top of you. Smothering you. Goosebumps stipple your skin and you bristle. The insects have stopped chirping. The breeze has stilled. The air hangs dead. 

And then—

Chaos.

You’re hit with a blast of crushing heat, the sheer power of it picking you up off your feet and onto your side, sending your body careening into a nearby structure. Your shoulder takes most of the blow, but your neck still snaps backwards unnaturally, the back of your head colliding with the stone wall behind you with a dull thwack. You let out a groaned cry at the impact, the wind knocked out of your lungs as you crumple to the ground.

For an instant, your vision goes white, stars popping and fusing out in front of your pupils, and it’s like you can feel everything and nothing all at once, hollow but overwhelmed, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift asleep— Maker that would feel like a luxury, just right here on the damn dirt. And you almost do, you almost let yourself slip under and sink— until you hear a piercing scream from somewhere close. 

Immediately your eyes shoot open, desperately blinking away the blurriness that threatens to over take them, and you try pushing yourself up by the heels of your scraped hands, failing once - twice - before finding your footing. You’re shaky at first, uncoordinated and dizzy and redownloading bipedalism, before that sweet drug of adrenaline starts to course through your veins and finally, finally, you take in your surroundings. 

The ships that once stood across the field are gone, obliterated, and in their place only metal ribcages remain—empty carcasses like dead birds splayed on their backsides, imploded from the inside out, their bits strewn all around you. 

Your breathing comes hard and heavy, fighting down panic, and cloudy eyes search through the thick black smoke billowing up in stacks, trying to pin point the source of the scream you’d heard just moments ago. You cough a strained wheeze, sputtering against the charred air, and wade your way through the debris— it’s only then that you realize the magnitude of the explosion. It’s not just the landing bay, it’s half the kriffing village. The buildings that neighbored the airfield had been decimated, burning roofs and crumbling fixtures, homes collapsing onto themselves, scorch marks and shrapnel branding the outsides of the shanties left standing.

It looks like a battlefield. You’ve seen holovids of this—what war can look like, how it can ruin a people… But you’ve never had to stand in the middle of it, head on. 

Your heart drums against your chest as you break into a hobbled run, desperately scanning the area for any signs of life, up and down, left and right, straining against the waning daylight. It’s then that you hear your name, urgent and frantic, and you whip your head in it’s direction, knees nearly buckling in relief. You immediately recognize your friend Hareem, brandishing her arms at you, waving you over to her. 

“Thank the Maker, you’re alright!” the Balosar cries out, trembling hands finding purchase on your shoulders, bracing you. You don’t know if its for your benefit or her own, but either way you’re grateful for the grounding pressure; for the first time since the initial blast, you feel solid, like you won’t just float away, atomized and weightless. Worried, you look her over. A sliver of fresh scarlet blooms from her scalp, a small line trickling down past her temple, but she otherwise looks relatively unharmed. You grasp onto her wrist, squeezing firmly.

“What the hell happened?” You ask, voice low and pitched, wide fearful eyes drilling into her.

“T-There was a man-” And she shakes her head, mouth clamping shut, deep wrinkles framing her face.

“Hareem,” you reassure, giving her another squeeze. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

She tries again with a steadying inhale, “I-I saw him. A-a man. He had a device with him, and he set charges, and Maker I don’t know— I don’t know— it went off a-and he ran towards the center of town!” The Balosar is in hysterics, tears spilling down her dirty cheeks, and it takes your brain a moment to catch up, to wrap your mind around the words she’s stuttering out. 

A man. 

Device. 

Charges.

A bomb. This wasn’t an accident; this was an attack—and he’s still kriffing here. You cup her cheeks, thumbs rubbing against the pale skin, smearing away the blood that’s nearly dripped to her chin. Your friend’s gaze is flighty, everywhere and nowhere, and you try giving her a smile, but you’re not quite sure you manage it.

“Hareem? Hareem. Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re alright…” You peel your eyes off her to glance around hurriedly. “We need to find cover.”

///

You’re holed up in one of the few remaining homes on this side of the encampment, crowded into the small space with three other survivors. All four of you, packed in and silent and petrified. Unsure of any further threat, you stay completely still. Helpless. Laying here, idle, for whatever awaits you behind that feeble, wooden door. You feel like prey for the wicked, just passing the time.

Minutes inch along like this—or maybe its hours; time moves eerily different when you’re attempting to become invisible—and eventually, you almost begin to relax.

Almost.

But a new sound breaks the din, hard to recognize at first, indistinct from all the commotion outside their hut, but you hear it. You all do. The youngest of you, a teenaged Devaronian, grips onto the hem of your shirt, knuckles creasing with anticipation. You tense, spine going rigid. Footsteps. They’re slow, guarded, but they’re getting closer. You bring an arm up, for all the good it’ll do, creating a human shield in front of the boy at your side. Closer. Someone behind you muffles a whimper. Closer. A Bardottan you hadn’t even met until today let’s out the faint whisper of a prayer, lips barely ghosting over the phrases. Closer- 

and then, nothing.

They’re here. You can sense him, see his shadow sweep across the gaps in the entryway. You all hold your breath, as if the air is being syphoned out of the space… And the door is flung open, nearly breaking off it’s hinges as it slams into the inside of the house, shuttering the rickety walls with a jarring bang. 

You don’t know who looks more astonished: you four, or the Mandalorian before you, dripping head to toe in silver plated armor, pointing a blaster directly at your head.

“Where is he?” He asks, hard edged and modulated, and it’s more of a demand than a question—but he lowers his weapon all the same, holstering it at his side. You gape at him, guppying wordlessly. “Volcur X’elo. The bomber. Where?” He hasn’t moved an inch out of the doorframe but he’s still managing to loom over you, completely filling up the archway, shoulders set and impossibly intimidating.

You gulp, finally finding your voice. “In town, i-in the center of town…” Kriff, you had not idea if that intel was good or not, but it’s all you think to say. Seeming satisfied with your answer he turns on his booted heel, cape whipping behind him, leaving just as soon as he arrived. The dust barely has time to settle as the door teeter’s on its hinge, its rusty squeaks filling the void in the Mandalorian’s wake.

“Fuck,” you hiss, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, doubling forward, propping your palms up on your knees.

///

After deliberating it with your group, you all come to the agreement of braving it outside. Better to be out under the open sky than die under a concaving apartment, clambering over each other to get to the exit. After all this, at least your dignity was still partially in tact— normally, you reckon you’d chuckle dryly at that. But you don’t. 

Can’t. 

You lead the pack through the mazelike streets. The sights that once seemed so familiar after weeks of living here become like strangers to you, and you sleepwalk through Jortho, snaking down paths marred by rubble and fallen wreckage— you haven’t seen any bodies, but maybe that isn’t true. Maybe you’re just too scared to notice them. Maybe they’re there, hovering just outside of your peripherals, haunting the corners of your vision… 

You keep your head fixed forward, jaw clenched.

Your feet move on their own like this, only vaguely aware that the red-skinned boy still hadn’t let go of your tunic. You forge on. Have to. You have to. Your only purpose on this kriffing planet was to help these people, to bring them aid, and if that means simply planting one foot in front of the other, then so be it. You take side alleys, double backing here and there, ducking under canopies, looping around yourself, only stopping when you catch a glimpse of beskar, the orange setting sun glinting off the surface of his helmet.

And he’s not alone.

You freeze suddenly, as do the rest, and the Devaronian bumps into you, stumbling under his lanky legs. Some paces in front of you, the bounty hunter has the other man, this Volcur X’elo, by a punishing grip on his shoulders, shoving him forcefully out in front of him; his wrists are bound and he’s fitful without the stabilization of his arms, his feet staccatoed and flailing wildly beneath him as the Mandalorian marches him forward. 

The wind shifts, and on it you can hear the bomber rant madly, only catching snippets of the vile nonsense that spews from him.“- like swine, they are a plague to the system! And they must be purged from this planet, and the next, and the next— every last filthy one!” You spare a glance to Hareem, to find her watching the scene in hypnotized horror, but your eyes snap back at the sound of something maniacal, drawing your attention. It’s laughter. The zealot begins to laugh a twisted, mocking cry that makes you want to vomit. “You might have me in binders Mandalorian, but you’re too late. You’re too late. This isn’t over!” He’s practically giggling, gleeful and demented. Disturbed. “You’ve only found one.”

Your blood runs cold. 

Only one? Oneoneoneone, one what-

The realization hits you with a punch to your gut. He’s only detonated one of his bombs. Somewhere, nearby, there must be another.

Without another word, the Mandalorian whips the smaller man around, pulling him sharply by his collar to collide with his breastplate, completely dwarfing him with his beskar frame. “Where is it, X’elo?” Nothing. Only laughter. High pitched, terrible roars. He tries again, patience ebbing. “The bomb. Now.” X’elo’s head tilts back and he howls another crowing shriek, keeping private his own sick joke, as if clutching a secret to his chest with slimy hands. 

The bounty hunter had heard enough. He clearly wasn’t getting anything more out of him, and with a quick strike, he rears his blaster and pistol whips the terrorist with it. The body drops. Volcur X’elo crumples, unconscious, blood streaming from where he was struck. You hear the Bardottan behind you stifle a cry with her fist. 

And with that, Lothal’s sun disappears completely, stealing away the last of it’s light as it furls into itself, shrinking out of sight. The dark ushers a new wave of dread, creeping over Jortho like a miasma, poisoning the very air.

The Mandalorian wheels around, searching for his heading in the labyrinth of the town. Others have gathered now, poking their heads around corners, stealing glimpses through windows. He turns, his head on a swivel. “Where is your power generator?” he demands, addressing the small crowd, but you’re all too stunned to speak. “Anybody. Generator. Now.” There’s something new in his voice, something muddled, and it takes you a moment to interpret it. It’s desperation, you realize, tinny and deep through his vocoder, and with a surge of adrenaline you move forward, furthering yourself from your group. You swallow. “I-Its this way.” Upon hearing your voice, he spins around, his visor latching on to you, and with a nod you both set out. 

“Watch him,” the Mandalorian growls past his shoulder, stepping over the bounty’s limp body.

///

You’re still not really sure how he knew where it’d be, you wonder to yourself, gravel crunching under foot as you both trudge on, an eery quiet settling over them. You’d say it was a lucky hunch, but judging by the way the Mandalorian carries himself, you doubt luck had much to do with it. 

You had led him to the power generator hub on the other side of the sad excuse for a city, traveling in tense silence, and when you came upon that tall, bulky machine he sprang into action, circling it until he found what he was looking for. The bomb. You stood back, rooted there, and after some grunting and rewiring— or maybe he just hacked at it with a vibroblade, you had no idea; his wide frame engulfed his work and you couldn’t tell what he was up to, all you knew was that his methods proved successful— the man managed to disarm the second device. You had thought you noticed his shoulders release, slumping with relief, after the red flashing lights on the rudimentary interface flickered and then went dark.

And so here you are. The two of you, bathed in the bright light of Lothal’s twin moons, their bellies hanging full in the blue-black night, illuminating the trail of blood staining the dirt beneath your boots as the Mandalorian roughly drags the body by his ankle behind him— through the exploded rubble, through the fragmented lives of the people around you, already displaced and estranged. They’ll all have to move, you think, pack up their lives, or what little is left of them, and relocate. Again. The thought sinks in you like a stone, sobering you. 

Even with the weight of a fully grown man to lug, the bounty hunter is still a few long strides in front of you and your eyes are trained on the unconscious form, taking in the way his mouth lolls open like an animal, his hair matted with thick blood, eyes rolled back into his head. You’re talking out loud before you even realize it.

“How sick do you have to be,” you mumble, transfixed. Your voice, it’s not angry; no, shock has effectively robbed you of that— it’s not anger, but bewilderment. Quivering, broken bewilderment.

“H-How hoodwinked and warped you’d have to be, how disturbed... For you to think like that. To do all... all this...” 

“Hey,” his gruff voice shakes you from your trance, and you blink up at him, tearing your eyes off the body. “Focus,” he urges, and you can only nod dumbly back at him, suddenly feeling a ripple of nausea slither through you.

The ramp to his ship is lowering as they come upon it and you plant yourself at the base, feet seeming to stop on their own accord, and frankly you’re not really sure why you’ve even followed him this far in the first place— always a step behind him as he hauled his bounty all the way through the vestiges of Jortho, across the arid prairie to where he first touched down. Maybe it’s because you feel untethered, unmoored, and all of his steeled surety is like a lighthouse, a beacon, guiding you away from the rocks. 

He heaves X’elo up the ramp and you’re left standing there, staring unseeingly into the durasteel, becoming more and more aware of the ringing in your ears. The longer time passes, the more it’s as if you’re underwater, the background blurring into the foreground, sound gargled and far away. A high pitched buzz pinches your ear drums, and it takes you a moment to realize the Mandalorian is calling out to you, trying to get your attention.

“— Dala.”

Does he sound annoyed? Kriff, you think he might... If you had your wits about you, you might be able to recognize it. But as it stands, you don’t. You’re not here, not all of you. You’re splintered. Suspended.

“Hmm? Sorry, what..?” Your mouth is as dry as Jakku— parched desert tongue darting across your cracked lip, tasting soot and ash and something metallic. Brow furrowed, you touch a shaky finger to the flesh and when you pull it back, crimson red dots your skin. 

Oh, you think, numb. Huh. 

Your eyes skitter back up to the Mandalorian, towering over you, nearly at the apex of the incline, and his stance is broad and his fists are clenched. You’re almost positive he’s glaring down at you through his visor, and you don’t even know the man, can’t even see his damn face, but you can tell he’s peeved— Maker, just how long had you been ignoring him?

A scratched noise comes through his helmet’s vocoder and his next words are clipped, punctuated. “I said, do you have a way off this skug hole?”

[mmvalentine]

Hi, it's CoN rhys and First Kiss anon, come to terrorise you with more weird promp requests😈haha. Okay so like no pressure at all lol, but would you consider maybe writing a Hades/Persephone type fic for Feysand? You're such a brilliant writer and I love all your fics. But seriously no pressure at all. Bye! 🖤

Hello sweet thing! I finally got inspired to start on this after reading @asteria-of-mars's latest masterpiece, and I have to say I'm enjoying it! I think you're my lucky charm anon because your other prompts First Fall and Fuck You, Feyre Darling are now two of my favourites. Anyway here's a soft and Gods inspired piece x

Pomegranate Part 1

Rhysand strolls through along the border of the Spring Court and gazes over the fields of flowers. Although he will always favour his own territory, even the Lord of Night has to admit that Spring is pretty.

It is twilight now and the dusk is settling in. The girl in the field notices Rhys watching her, and smiles shyly. He lifts a hand, and she walks over to him.

“Hello you,” she says. Her voice is soft and high, like falling petals, and it seems to reach right into Rhys.

“Hello little one,” he says back.

“I’ve seen you walking around here,” the girl tells him. “Do you come to see the wildflowers?”

“Yes,” Rhys replies, “although there is one particular blossom that is much more beautiful than the rest.” His eyes wander to the fresh bloom on her cheek, and he is not lying.

The girl drops her gaze as she smiles, and the loss of her blue-grey eyes is more than Rhys can bear. His hand darts out of its own accord, and gently lifts her chin.

“You have such stormy eyes, for a season so tranquil,” he says. She ignores him.

“I know who you are,” she tells him. “My father says to stay away from you.” Rhys’s brow furrows.

“Your father… did not like my father.” His face lightens. “Then again, I did not much like him either.” He grins, and the daughter of Spring tilts her head to one side to watch him. “And you?” he says. “What is your name?”

The girl feigns scandal. “What a question!” she says in mock horror. “Give you my name, so you might enchant me to follow you?” Rhys’s lips curl upward.

“I could just steal you away right now. No one would know.”

“My father would come after you.”

“How would he know it was me?”

“Because he didn’t like your father.”

Rhys’s eyes light. “But he might like me if he got to know me. Many find that they do.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

Rhys is grinning again now, despite himself. He puts his hands in his pockets.

“But you know my name?”

“Yes Rhysand, I do.”

“Mm. It sounds so good when you say it.”

“Well maybe I’ll have you follow me around.”

“I might do it anyway.”

“Still think my father might like you?”

“I’m not scared of old Tambourine.”

The girl giggles at that, and the sound of it rings in Rhys’s ears for minutes after.

“I’ll tell you what,” she says. “Come and see me tomorrow. If I spend a bit more time with you I might decide to trust you with my name.”

“Spend time with me now, I’m not doing anything.”

“Well I am,” she says. “Now go away and leave me be.”

“I don’t think I can leave my court two evenings in a row.”

“Then you’ll never know my name.”

“But that’s hardly fair!” Rhys protests. “You already know my name, should I not have something of yours?”

“Fine,” she says, and steps in close. Rhys barely has time to be surprised, before she stands up on her tip-toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Now you have something of mine too.”

And with that she wanders off, leaving Rhys standing in the field of flowers with his fingers on his face.

//

The next day, Rhys walks through the Spring field but didn’t see the girl. He thinks about the way that he had teased her, and wonders if she might have stayed home and laughed at him. Then something grabs his ankle, and he almost falls.

“Hello you,” the girl says. Rhys stares down at where she is lying amongst the long stems.

“My favourite flower,” he said. “I almost stepped on you.”

“The evening is warm, come and lie down with me.”

Rhys glances around, and finds the field empty again. He gets down on the ground and lays his long legs out beside her. Above them, the sky is peaches and cream.

“Why are we lying on the ground?” Rhys asks. The girl surprises him again by taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his.

“Because from here you can hear things growing in the earth,” she says. “Listen.”

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply. Rhys tries to listen too, but is distracted by the freckled serenity of her pale face in the stretching shadows.

“You’re not listening,” the girl scolds, without opening her eyes. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare? We hardly know each other.”

“But you’re holding my hand,” Rhys points out. Now she does look at him, and he could drown in the ocean of her eyes.

“I’m a child of Spring,” she says, and then gives him a smile so lovely his heart breaks. “And Spring is the season for love.” He falls for her, just a little, right then and there.

Rhys rolls onto his side, and brings his thumb to her lower lip without letting go of her hand.

“My court is Night,” he said. “No wonder we’re friends.”

The girl shoves Rhys lightly in the chest. “Night is for lust, not love,” she teases. “And we’re not friends yet.” She goes to pull her hand out of his, but Rhys catches it back and she lets him.

“Then tell me how I can be your friend.” The girl’s eyes sparkle.

“Visit me again,” she says. “My father is very… protective. And I am lonely.”

“I can do that.”

The girl picks up his other hand now. “Visit me everyday.”

Rhys laughed. “I’ll visit you every day, for a month. If you tell me your name.”

She frowns at his fingers, even as she strokes his knuckles.

“For six months,” she says.

“Two.”

“Five.”

“Three.”

“Four, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

Rhys grins at that. “Deal,” he says. He untangles his hand from hers, so he can slide it behind her hair and cup the back of her skull. The daughter of Spring looks up at him through lidded eyes.

“Your cheek, Rhys,” she whispers.

“But nights are for lust,” he says, and then kisses her open mouthed and hungrier than he meant to. She tastes of rosewater and sweet pear. The girl’s arms twine round his neck and pull him closer, and without thinking he rolls her on top of him. Her weight is delicious along the length of his body, and the evening breeze blows her honey hair across his face.

Finally, the girl pulls back and looks at him from above. He tucks a curl behind her ear, and she flicks his nose for taking more than she had offered. Rhys thinks she might tell him off, but instead, she just says, “Feyre. My name is Feyre.”

****

Read Part 2

PS Big time thanks to everyone who reblogged some of my fics after I asked for some extra love for them!!! I appreciate it so much and hope you enjoy this new thing. I reckon there might be... seven parts.

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