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senualothbrok · 5 months ago

Text

Revelation

Gif by @dolceaspidenera

Summary: Gale shows Aurora she has nothing to hide. Sequel to Progress and Promise.

"Wreathed in morning light, sitting astride you, her every blemish and bulge is on display. She is exposed. Doubt disturbs her gaze.

You must banish it.

“I want to see you, Aurora.”

You take hold of her hand, swirling your tongue across the pads of her fingers. “All of you. Just like this.”"

AO3 link

Word count: 3.8k

Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Gale x female OC (Aurora). Aurora is in recovery from an eating disorder/body dysmorphia.

More disclaimers: Body worship. Hand and finger kink. Woman on top/cowgirl. Vaginal fingering.

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When she rustles beside you, your hand darts out by instinct. Buried in your bedsheets, you hear faint shouts from the docks outside, the morning call of seagulls circling overhead. Aurora has always been one to rise early, much to your chagrin. You prefer to cling to the comforts and luxuries of the night. You reach for her, groaning into your pillow.

“Early,” you manage, as your fingers dance across her hip. “Stay.”

She laughs, a huff of affection. As she retreats, you open a sleep-blurred eye. She is shuffling speedily into her slip, her auburn hair spilling over her shoulders. Strokes of golden light linger on the contours of her face. Even after all this time, your breath still catches at the sight of her, here and yours. The space she has left beside you is an ache, whirling with her scent of lavender and rain. The fragrance of home.

“Come back to bed, Aurora,” you rasp.

She smiles, amused, forbearing. You mourn the cascade of white silk over her curves. Never before have you hated a piece of flimsy, spiteful fabric as much as you do now. You could disintegrate it with a thought, were it not for Aurora’s wishes. You yearn for the constellations of freckles below her breasts and navel, trembling beneath your touch.

“I need to get to the market, Gale. I want to get you those pastries you like. And I need to get some paints and ink.”

You grizzle, shifting onto your back. After the discoveries of last night - a secret mole on the innermost curve of her thigh, a snug spot that made her body sing - you cannot think of anything less appealing than leaving this bedroom. Not for a thousand ancient tomes would you trade such reveries. Not even for signed first editions.

“All that can wait.”

She is reaching for her robe, draped lazily on a chair beside your bed. Outside the paradise of your bedsheets, Aurora cannot bear to be naked. It saddens you, how difficult it still is for her, though your love burns in every caress of skin and tongue and soul. This goddess in all but name, the north star blazing in your blue-green sky. In your haze, it seems the greatest injustice to watch the covering of her perfect form, so recently bare and flushed against yours.

It will not do. No, you cannot bear it. You spring awake, your mind and body united in their purpose. With a crackle and flicker of your fingers, her robe whizzes into your grip. You draw yourself up against the headboard.

Aurora can be playful. You discovered it soon after she moved into your home. It was a delight, to step behind the veil of solemn reservation, to see the twinkle in those appraising eyes. There was the joy of novelty in her, too. She had never had the chance for mischief, under the yoke of illness and her mother’s cruelty. Now, she relishes the opportunity to tease and tickle, to nip at an earlobe or ghost over a nipple. To rise to the challenge of desire. You are almost certain she will play your game.

Her lips part in surprise for an instant. Then she frowns, an impression of disapproval. “Gale.”

There is something about the intensity of her furrowed brow that makes you want to grin. It is almost theatrical. Supremely endearing. You resist the urge, mirroring her frown instead.

“Oh.” You smooth out her robe in your lap, deliberate and measured. “Did you want this?”

“Gale.” Her tone is stern, but her gaze is tender. She bites her lip, a telltale sign that sparks through your thoughts and steels your resolve. Heat simmers beneath your skin, the thrumming arousal of half-sleep that swells. “Come now.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You come now.” You tap your thigh briskly. “Come here.”

She narrows her eyes, silver flashing in a grey sea. For a while she waits as you tilt your head, your lips curled in appraisal and expectation. She pulls at her slip, her arms hovering over her belly, a habit of concealing beauty she believes to be ugliness. A habit you are bent on helping her to break, even if it takes a lifetime.

The standoff does not last long. You knew it would not. With a sigh, she climbs onto the bed, grasping for the robe which you snatch away from her once, twice, three times. You are deft and quick, and she is small, and it is easy. She glares at you, shadow daggers without an edge.

“Come closer,” you drawl.

Her cheeks are dusted coral now. You laugh as she clambers onto your lap, her slip riding higher and higher up her thighs as she clutches for the prize that you suspend frustratingly beyond her reach. A shoulder strap falls, her lowered neckline dancing over the dark skin around her nipple. The trail of freckles between her collarbone and her cleavage is a torment, stirring your ever-present compulsion to follow where it leads. You linger on the peaks pressing through the silk that clings to her breasts, almost translucent as she jostles. There is a gathering within you, a tingling in your groin that is spreading into your core. Your growing hardness twitches against her as you wet your lips.

You feel her sharp breath, warm and sour-sweet, the tightening of her lean calves bracketing you. The gentle, subconscious roll of her hips as her eyelids flutter. You sense, once again, that she cannot resist you. Rare are the occasions when she tries. You only have to ask, and she will open to you, like the blooming bud of an unseen flower, kept in a vault to which only you have the key. She is yours, and always will be.

A jolt of desire, red and raw, pulses through you.

You fling her robe onto the floor. She does not move towards it. You seize your victory. A gasp escapes her as you press down on the velvet soft cheeks of her ass, her arms falling around your neck like an anchor. As she buckles forward, her thick waves form a curtain around your faces, streaked with faded light. She is everything, and there is nothing else but her.

Aurora is quiet. In the early days, your only guide to her arousal was the catching and quivering of her breath, the tensing of her flesh, the rippling of her features. Through pants and pauses, you learned the peaks and troughs of her pleasure, and in the discovery, found that she, too, was embarking on uncharted territory. Until you, Aurora’s only experience of intimacy was to mask herself with a Glamour, lying still and silent to perform a role she never asked to play. Before you, she had never known the topography of love and desire, the twining of mind, flesh and soul with another.

She had confessed, later, that you were the only one to have brought her to climax. She had never before felt that explosion of ecstasy - singular and earth-shattering, entirely alien. You remember the long, lilting moan that dripped from her, echoing the first taste of her release. And though you felt sorrow at her story, you swelled with pride. Yours is the only flesh to have joined the marvel of hers, naked and unglamoured, and brought her to bliss. If you could wear this as a badge of honour for the world to see, you would.

Yet at times there is still a hesitation in her. Not just a shyness, cemented by years of isolation, when her body was always a punishment and never a privilege. But a hint of shame. A deep-seated suspicion that you will turn away.

To have beheld Aurora in all her glory has transformed you. You could never turn away.

Your hungry mouth finds hers, open, wet and willing. You clutch and pull at the offensive fabric that stubbornly separates her skin from yours. Heinous, wretched thing. You could tear it off, rip it with your teeth. As her tongue glides against yours, she does not seem to notice your frenzy. Her delicate fingers weave into your hair, setting every fibre alight. She whimpers ever so softly as you lap and suck at the corner of her lip, her chin gleaming and moist with your spit, and all at once you are rock hard, possessed by the feel and smell and taste of her. You wrench and tug her slip upwards, drawing back slightly to whip it over her head.

Aurora pauses. Flushed and breathless, she looks down, and you know she is registering her position. She is not cloaked by your writhing limbs, or obscured beneath the bedsheets. Wreathed in morning light, sitting astride you, her every blemish and bulge is on display. She is exposed. Doubt disturbs her gaze.

You must banish it.

“I want to see you, Aurora.” You take hold of her hand, swirling your tongue across the pads of her fingers. “All of you. Just like this.”

She shivers. For emphasis, you press her hand firmly against your cock. It throbs, free from the constraints of clothing, seeking her like a beacon. Her touch is a surge of electricity, and you cannot stop the groan that spurts out of you. Her grey eyes are almost black, dilated with unmistakable longing.

“Please,” you whisper.

You would not ask if you thought she was unwilling. If you saw displeasure in her hesitation, and not a residual fear of rejection, an anticipation of disgust. And you must show her, again and again, that you could never respond to the miracle of her beauty with anything but the most all-consuming love. You will never stop showing her.

In the steepling of her brow, you sense a shift. The shell of trust and love peeking open. She arches backwards with the easy grace of a swan, and you are the lake beneath and around and within her. You peel her slip off with a slow and gentle reverence, your breathing stilted by awe. She closes her eyes, and you are entranced by the arc of her lifted arms, the web of her lashes, the starry patterns of her dappled skin. The sheen of desire adorning her mound.

She is, as always, a revelation.

“I love you.” Your voice is a prayer. “Every part of you.”

You do not let her hands fall to conceal the softness of her stomach, the stretchmarks around her hips and breasts. All the parts you cherish which she yearns to hide, dazzling stitches in the glorious tapestry of Aurora. Her eyes glimmer as you clasp her hands against the bristles of your beard, holding her fast. An eternal affirmation. A promise you will keep making until the end of your days.

You are safe. You are seen. You are loved.

Her eyes widen as you push your tangled bodies away from the headboard. Raised halfway on her knees, she steadies herself on your shoulders, as though balanced on a tightrope, with only you to keep her from falling. Every muscle within you clenches with a building ache as you bend upwards to clasp her close. You run your tongue from the nook behind her earlobe to the heave of her breast, swirling a circle around her nipple.

“I love this part,” you murmur, sucking at the hardened bud.

Her breath seizes, arousal thrusting against uncertainty. As she tilts forward, you lean back on an elbow to savour the gift of this moment - the fullness of Aurora bare and naked before you, the undeniable quiver of faith, hope and love that vibrates through her flawless form. You circle one arm around the small of her back, and the warmth of her hands gliding up your neck and into your hair sends a spasm through your gut. When your tongue catches the salt around her navel, sweeping over each mole and freckle on her midriff, she stiffens. But you trust.

“I love this part,” you repeat.

You plant wet, starving kisses on the dimples of her belly, dark corners which Aurora so fears to tread. She tenses with apprehension, hanging back slightly. You look up at her, open mouthed, your tongue still flickering from its feast before. You hold her gaze as your fingers snake over her hip bone, through her damp wiry down, to her molten core. Her folds are hot and slick, her clit smooth as a nectar-coated petal. She shudders, toppling back into you as you find it, sending a pulse from the tips of your toes through the deepest recesses of your balls.

“And this part,” you groan into her skin.

You can smell the salt tang of her desire now, and it is intoxicating. You hum, half-drunk, as you lap at the curves of her waist, tracing swift whirls around her fire with your lithe and expert fingers. With them, you can summon the mightiest storm, reduce enemies to dust. You can raise up and tear down. But no spell could ever come close to this most masterful of skills, reserved for her alone.

She lets out a whine, short and needy - that precious signal, the spark which stokes the raging fires within you. You cannot hold it any longer. You grab her hand in your slick-soaked fingers and wrap it around your cock. You are fully erect, veins throbbing, a desperate bead leaking from your tip. In her slender fingers, you are a giant, growing stiffer by the second. You are invincible.

If she had any reservations about her effect on you, there can be surely no doubt now. In this moment, there is nothing you want more. You are nothing more than an all-consuming ache for her. She looks at you half-lidded, a gossamer string of saliva trickling from her parted, plump lips.

“Yes,” she pleads.

You are panting as you guide her hand, aligning your length against the dew of her entrance. She lowers herself onto you so delicately that you feel like clay in a sculptor’s hands. Her walls are so smooth, so tight, against the head of your cock, and the pleasure is so piercing that your elbow buckles under you as you writhe. She falls forward, her arms trembling on either side of your head, her tongue a helpless flurry inside, outside, around your eager mouth. The mattress shivers beneath you. You see how her mind narrows to a pinpoint, drifting from the flaws she imagines and longs to hide. You feel the grinding of her hips, inviting you deeper inside her. Every sign of her unravelling snaps a frayed nerve inside you.

“Yes, my love,” you manage. “Take your pleasure.”

She withdraws a little, confusion flitting across her features. A fleeting awkwardness. You remember that this is not a position Aurora is accustomed to, nor is the control and rapture that comes from it. All at once, you are gripped by a singular determination. You will show her, or help her learn herself. You will help her reclaim what has been lost to her, all these long and lonely years, before her comet blazed into your world.

You lean upwards, your hands resuming their placement on her ass. She stares, wide-eyed, unsure. You send your thoughts out to her - trust me - and her lips ease into a faint, halting smile. You finally understand the purpose of all those meaningless dalliances of your youth, when you fumbled over and finessed the techniques of love. They were all for her. All for this.

You draw your knees up and shift your pelvis. You feel for the swollen pearl of her clit against the top of your shaft. You have memorised its contours well, so well you could seek it out blind. Aurora is your favourite topic of study, a masterpiece you will never stop unveiling. And between the sheets, this gem is her centre. When you find it, you angle yourself so every surge of your cock will grind against it. She sucks in a breath, and you smile at the confirmation.

“Does this feel good?”

As you thrust up into her, you push her hips down to swallow your length. A blush flares on Aurora’s cheeks, deep as the pink of her folds. You grit your teeth through the compulsion that engorges you, the tremors of need through your muscles. On the third stroke, she bites her lip and rolls her eyes back as she takes your fullness inside her.

Gods, you think to yourself. You cannot hold on much longer. One moan, one whimper, one gasp as she arches back, and you could let go and fall off the edge.

You remind yourself that you must not. You must hold on for her.

“Take your pleasure, Aurora,” you rasp.

She moves slowly, tentatively, chasing after the movement you have set. You cup her breasts as they sway, pinching gently at her nipples, thumbing at the freckles nestled within their smooth, silky undersides. Rapt and voracious, you watch for signs of growing tension seeking release. A wrinkle appears between her eyebrows, the mark of laboured concentration. The drag of your cock inside her is an ache that rubs you raw. But there is a faltering in her rhythm as she rises and falls, a frown that betrays her mounting anxiety.

You realise, with horror, that she has slipped into a performance, and she feels she is failing.

She stops. “I'm sorry.” She looks away. “I'm not very good at this. I'm not sure-”

You lurch upwards to catch her words with your mouth. You speak your reassurance through the tender dance of tongues, the shield of your arms around her. You are furious with yourself, incandescent, to have put herself in this position. To have made her feel that she could do anything to let you down. It is unconscionable.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, moving back. “I didn’t mean-”

She cuts you off with an embrace. The force of it winds you. Aurora is small, but she is not weak. Her resolution has a firmness that has always stilled you. She nuzzles into your hair and neck, sealing tiny kisses along your Adam's apple. She soaks you in, and you are buoyed by the strength of her love, pure and unwavering.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You cannot ignore the sincerity in her voice. Her love is larger than your anger, greater than any foolish mistake you could make. Before her altar, you lay down the burdens of blame. You press your lips to her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. You had wondered if it was all too much for her, if you should stop. But her fingers are ghosting over the base of your cock, and her mouth is almost greedy when she tilts your chin down to taste your moan.

“What feels good?” you ask, when you pull apart to breathe.

She struggles to answer. The question is a continual discovery, its waypoints not formed from words. But you know some of them already. You can remind her.

“Does this feel good?”

You brush your lips across her fingers, widening your mouth as you take two, then three, into your wet warmth. You swirl your practised tongue into the space between them, sucking one in softly, the other more firmly. Her gaze darkens, the edge of her thumbnail bearing against your beard as it glistens with your spit.

You are wizards. It was not a surprise to discover your mutual love of fingers, those graceful channels of power and wonder. She had been surprised, at first, to find out all the secret spells they could cast. Her clear delight filled you with a fervent satisfaction. You know, as you press your fingers into her open mouth, that this will drive her wild.

Her eyes wrench closed as her tongue glides down the length of your index finger, weaving and winding across, desperate for more. The shine of saliva on her chin mirrors the moisture that streams over your spasming cock as she licks and sucks with increasing hunger, whining as you plunge her digits deeper into your mouth. As you savour every inch and groove of her, your thoughts slow to a trickle. You are coming undone.

She begins to rock, echoing the rhythm of your fingers. The flame of her desire burns over in tiny oscillations of her hips that shudder through your girth. Wider and stronger they grow, following the fierce current that takes hold of her, banishing all thought and doubt. You keen, her walls tightening and clenching as she flinches, the top of your shaft aching from the bulge of her clit and the friction that mounts as she rolls faster and faster into you. Her whimper rumbles through the pads of your fingers, and you hear the slick, heavy sounds of her arousal everywhere at once.

“Gale.” Her voice is torn with need and pleasure. “That feels so good.’

Her words are a spell. A door swings open inside you, breaking from its hinges. She senses it. Your hips snap of their own accord, thrusting to her quickening pace. All the love and lust within you gathers into the power between your legs, a roiling river ready to burst its banks. You gulp and suck, your teeth catching on her knuckles, your fingers pressing down on her flurrying tongue. She shakes as her wetness convulses around your surging cock, the twitching urgency of climax pulling her off the precipice. You gasp out a muffled cry, clinging to the last vestiges of the dam inside you as they splinter, one by one. She throws her head back and cries out your name.

You explode inside her. It is a shattering of every sensation that you have ever felt, an unleashing of yourself in bursts of blinding ecstasy. You spasm against her, a chaos of incoherent murmurs through the aftershocks of bliss. Your chest heaves, your vision fogs, your skin tingles against hers. And when your eyes meet again, a haze of awe and wonder cocoons you.

There are many things you want to say as you lie beside her. Her gaze is bright and gentle as sunlight on snow, her tousled hair a waterfall winding through your heart. You want to tell her that you love her with the fire of a thousand suns. That no night sky or grand illusion could ever hold a candle to her beauty. That she is your beginning and your end, and every instant with her is the most magical of revelations. But you do not.

It is her moment. Her milestone. You sense the memories that ebb and flow within her, the tide of your love washing over her wounds. You listen to the lilt of her breathing, the swell of the sea, the drum of your heartbeat. Her robe and slip lie discarded on the floor as the morning wears on. You trace the footsteps of her freckles, while she maps out the drifting down on your skin.

“I think I could do that again,” she says finally. Her smile is light with mischief.

You grin as she melts into your arms.

-----

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thisisnotthenerd · 11 months ago

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and now the best battles of the intrepid heroes go head to head

feel free to give reasoning/propaganda as you like!

the sidequest poll

quick episode descriptions:

arcade ambush: fighting biz in the arcade. the failed perception checks. getting sucked in and out of the games. riz in the palimpsest. beating a nat 20 in the box of doom. shooting off biz's fingers on the count of three.

broadway brawl: the show must go on. misty having the performance of a lifetime. queen titania. i may be little but i am fierce. esther in the rafters. don confetti. ricky, naked, bodyrolling on misty. stephen sondheim riding a bear. subduing titania with a waist trainer.

blast from the passed: after the trial for gorthalax. completely indecipherable battle. bill seacaster kills gilear. johnny spells can't get a word in edgewise. statistically i have just a good a chance at rolling good as any of you. toxic masculinity is dead, i dance now! riz is blasted off the ship into the iron city of dis.

boys' night (Roll20Con): just the lads, going to a party, where they are supremely uncool. extorting gilear for alcohol [uncle pappy's dag nasty rocket hooch] emergency poem for ragh and corey. stealth mode down the highway. chungledown bim is back. fabian falling under the car with the liquor. warping space time and going to the lan party.

deep bleu sea: peppermint batman is invisible in the darkness. primsy is attacked. jet sends stilton to the bottom of the ocean. shenanigan time. the boats sinking and shifting. cumulous appears. throwing the cheese marauders to induce a dexterity check. can i use swirlwarden to get back into the boat. annabelle in the yogurt

treachery at gramercy: fighting around the umbral engine. ricky's bat counterspell. pete surges twice. cody is a mounted combatant who read dante's inferno. tony simos is a crazy level 20 open hand monk. pete has subtle spell. ricky says tony get fucked and does 90 damage. kingston's spirits of the city. sofia stunning everyone. cody meets lucifer and makes a new contract. sofia pulls dale out of the past and into the present.

battle of the brands: the gang buys truly so much stuff. you are required to do a certain amount of drugs. barry is the angel of mercy. the sisters of the cosmic veil having a bikini party. taking kublacaine. we are the ball. barry taking brutus to the finals on a nat 20. nat 20 death save from aurora nebbins. margaret speaks to the plinth and then is down to 1 hit point. skip crits on the plinth. free teleportation shenanigans are not allowed. gunnie casts explosion. barry rapid shots the plinth and does product placement. operation slippery puppet. am i getting ocean's'd 11'd on my own fucking show? what the fuck is happening? a real son of a bitch is no more. sundry sidney has saved the dog!

terror on toy island: a soft little touch. mer-king's insect plague. no daddy. pib getting the little guys. i'm so fucking scared! the water surges around the mer-king. the terrible dogfish is here. daddy-meter is spinning. pinocchio crits to figure it out. pinocchio screaming to wake the dead. it has asthma! and another thing, with the eyes! you were about to instantly die. gerard is wearing full chain mail in the ocean.. rosamund & ylfa are swallowed. the sea witch shows up. murph causes a nat 20. call of destiny. rosamund gets the eye with a seven. i'm a lion in the water. pib's acrobatic crit. one v. one.

#dimension 20 #battle episode of all time #fantasy high #the unsleeping city #a crown of candy #fantasy high sophomore year #the unsleeping city chapter ii #a starstruck odyssey #neverafter #d20 poll #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 spoilers

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anjelicawrites · 11 months ago

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True Love's Kiss

Series masterlist

Chapter II

Paring: Maleficent!Aemond Targaryen x woodland fairy!reader

Synopsis: you try to find somewhere to hide and surprise Aemond.

Warnings: none.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns used.

When you depart, still shrouded by the veil of the night, your whole family is silently crying, as well as the queen, who has kept princess Aurora in her arms until the very last second and has forced you to take her from her arms. She looks distraught, aged ten years in a handful of hours, the king, standing by her side, stares at you with eyes darkened with madness. You are so afraid of the consequences of their foolish decision: the law of hospitality must always be upheld!

For a fleeting second you wonder why the king has addressed Aemond with such venom in his voice, but it’s a hazy thought, soon overridden by other concerns. Like finding that woodland again, the one that called you on your way to the castle, oh so many hours ago.

You and your people had traveled for days to arrive in time to the christening, yet you had stopped when you passed nearby the patch of land, not mesmerized, but you had felt something, like a pull, unlike the rest of your family, a power forgotten for too long now calling you, and you alone of all the magical folks.

Carefully, you try to locate that source of energy, letting the horse go on his own, too focused on that pulse in your head, like a second heartbeat, to truly steer the animal, until you can feel that dormant magic again, its colors exploding in your head like a star, showing you the way.

You curl your hands around the reins to guide the horse on the right direction, hoping that the collective spell your family cast over you, worked and protected you from one specific prying eye.

Your family’s collective effort worked, you were discovered the second the spell on that patch of land disappeared when you entered the woods.

“You should see this.” Vhagar’s voice is raspy and old, yet beloved to Aemond.

“What is it?”

He walks briskly to where the water receptacle stands on its column, Vhagar, in her human form is watching with rapt curiosity, her decrepit body kept in a vertical position by the knobby rod she’s clutching in her arthritic hands.

“It can’t be happening.” It’s all Aemond manages to say.

“Yet it is”

“It shouldn’t!” Aemond bends his back closer to the water, where your image floats alongside the gentle waved. “What are they hiding?”

His eye focuses on the bundle strapped in front of your chest, his magic trying to enhance what his eye can’t see, until a strand of his hair falls into the water and you disappear.

A curse escapes his lips

“I wonder how they managed.” Vhagar says, almost amused.

It has been such a long time since anything surprised her and twice in the same day, you manage to complete the feat. Quite the surprising little woodland fairy you are.

“We’ll need to investigate.”

In his younger years Aemond would have already teleported himself, his emotion besting him. He’s now older and far more calculating, most important of all: he’s alone, he can’t take any risks.

“If we can enter.” Vhagar reminds him.

“We never tried, all these years.”

“No one set foot there. No human or otherwise.” Vhagar adds. “What makes you think it’s going to be any different now?”

“Because it did for them, and for the little beastie.”

“Maybe it works only with them”

“Why? Because that ridiculous woodland fairy is special? Destined for greatness?”

“They are courageous. No one tried to stop you, they did, armed only of their weak magic.”

“It’s because that fairy doesn’t know what’s good for them, like all their kind!” Aemond spats. “They aren’t special.”

Vhagar levels him with a stare, still such a young heart, burning with emotions. She’s far too old to remember how it felt like.

“Shall we go, tomorrow?” She asks, her knobby hands tight on the head of the cane.

“Yes, we shall.” Aemond heads for his bedroom shaking his head.

He’s seen you and princess Aurora strapped against your chest, bundled up under layers and layers to keep her warm, in the water. Such foolishness! He’s not going to harm a hair on the child’s head, not when, in sixteen years, he’ll see the desperation on he father’s face. Aemond’s revenge will taste so sweet.

You moan when the canopy of leaves open to let you enter, the magic if the forest seeping through your pores and you bend over, every fiber of your being burning with such power, every nerve coming alive in ways you’ve never experienced. You have to grab your horse’s mane, or you’ll tumble down and you can’t afford that, not with the precious cargo strapped against your chest!

Aurora whines when she’s squished between you and the horse, her small lament snaps you back into yourself and you manage to take a hold of yourself and stop the horse. What is this place? You wonder. Who used to live here and leave such a mark?

Aurora whines again, you can feel her tiny head try to move and just fall against your bosom, her mouth open, hungrily looking for a breast to suck; you swear, she’s still a small child, for what you know about human biology, they tend to eat often. Her nanny had given you bottles of milk for her, your magic had kept them from going bad, but now you need somewhere warm to feed the child.

As if pulled by an invisible string, your internal compass forces your head to turn, your eyes seeing a path covered by the overgrown vegetation. Could it lead you somewhere? Not that you expect to find any magic folk, or even humans living here, but maybe you’ll be able to find some sort of temporary shelter, at least for today.

You are tired, having to counterfeit Aemond’s spell had drained you, and then the long ride here and the weird reaction of your body to the forest! You need to sleep and gain your energies back; the child as well, needs to rest properly and eat and have her clothes changed. What have I gotten myself into? You feel tendrils of uncertainty spread: maybe your mother was right, perhaps you should have gone back home and leave this mess for the humans to solve. You shake your head, what ifs will not help you now, you have to do it.

Almost by himself the horse heads towards the overgrown path, and you let it: you don’t have a direction, this might as well do, as long as you can find some sort of refuge for what remains of the night: you are so tired your eyes are closing by themselves!

You might have fallen asleep, lulled by the gentle movements of the horse’s body and its warmth, waking up with a shudder when the animal stops in front of a run down cottage. You can see the ivy growing on the old bricks and the moss on the roof, the stone steps are broken and the windows are so dirty it’s impossible to look inside. The whole ensemble would look creepy, if it weren’t for the pull you feel towards it, as if you can see through the rough exterior.

Aurora wails, desperate and hungry, forces your hand: creepy or not, the place has a roof and walls, you can spy a chimney and you just know that the hearth works; if you are lucky you might even find a hole where you can fall asleep.

To your immense surprise, the furniture are old and dirty, but are there! An abandoned cottage like this, should have been stripped barren of all objects not nailed down, instead everything is where it is supposed to be granted, there’s spiderwebs everywhere, but those you can easily deal with using a sweep of your hand; you are just happy you’ve found a place for yourself and the child!

You can’t help but open your mouth at the firewood piled next to the hearth or the fact that all the furniture are still in the cottage: how’s that even possible? The place is abandoned, there’s no trace of life here, yet no one has barged in and ransacked the place. Why?

You’re running on the fumes of your magic, nevertheless you let tendrils of it poke at the energy the cottage is exuding and all you can feel is this low, calm hum, a leftover from someone who had wield magic and has passed away.

Aurora starts screaming and your connection to the cottage breaks, before the old stones can tell you all their tragic story.

If you hadn’t to care for a newborn child, you’d probably focus more on why your powers reacted to the forest the way they did, or why no one stumbled upon the cottage or ransacked it, but you had to soon realized how demanding human newborns are, when you have no one to share the burden with, while caring for the cottage and revamping the vegetable garden in the back, before the food Aurora’s parents had given you, finished.

Truth to be told, if you weren’t running around like a headless chicken, you would have felt Aemond’s presence hiding in the shadows, observing your disorganization with a smirk on his lips.

Aemond taglist: @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #true loves kiss

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jake-s-azaleea · 3 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied

Duskwood one shot

pairing: Jake X mc

warnings: I'm the best writer y'all know

a fanfic I promised in the comments of an incorrect quote 🤍

(if y'all didn't get it, the title is from a Taylor Swift song)

***

As time flowed onward, the band of companions who weathered a profound loss gravitated towards one another, forging bonds more profound than ever. MC relocated to Duskwood, taking up residence in a dwelling near Lilly's place of employment, while Jessy and Dan found themselves employed at Phil's Bar, with Jessy immersed in administrative tasks behind the scenes. Cleo remained dedicated to her mother's ventures, and Thomas... his frequent companionship with Hannah hinted at a blossoming connection. Their unity grew steadfast as they discovered solace in each other's presence.

Jake, still evading capture, continued his fugitive existence. With the case concluded, he no longer needed to risk himself as he did in the past, allowing him to slip away for extended periods, evading detection until his trail could be picked up once more. The winding roads beckoned him toward his elusive destination, guiding him to where he felt he truly belonged- Next to her.

It's been a year and everything feels normal. The Pine Glade Festival was getting closer and Jessy planned a whole day of activities for them.

They were all staying at Aurora at a table listening to her and the perfect fantasy she imagined.She looked like she was getting her colour back into her face after all this time. She looked more content, her eyes reflecting a newfound sense of peace. It's a subtle shift, but one that speaks volumes. She was destroyed after the incident and didn't speak to anyone for a whole month.

a part of her died in that fire.

But now they were all so invested in her plans for a perfect day. The road to the waterfall was now opened and she wanted so badly to go there. the others just agreed and smiled at her.

A few days passed and the Pine Glade Festival came. They were supposed to meet there at 6 PM.

***

You grab your phone, keys and wallet and head towards the center of the town. The sun lingered in the sky, casting its gentle glow over the town, its pale rays painting the streets with a comforting warmth. As daylight stretched its fingers across the rooftops and cobblestone paths, the town seemed to bask in a tranquil embrace, a serene moment captured in the soft light of day.

You get there pretty early, but your train of thoughts is stopped by the sound of your phone buzzing.

Jake: I see you.

You sigh, your lips curving into a small smile. 'Of course you do' you thought to yourself.

You glance around and catch sight of him standing by a terrace, clad in a black hoodie. Despite the distance veiling his eyes, his shy smile is unmistakable, a subtle yet intriguing expression that hints at hidden depths beneath the surface. You sprint towards him, your heart racing with anticipation, and envelop him in a tight embrace, your arms encircling his neck in a moment of closeness and connection. The rush of emotions floods through you, mingling with the thrill of the unexpected encounter in the midst of the mysterious setting.

His gaze meets yours, a silent exchange of emotions and unspoken words

"Hi there"

"Hello, MC."

"We should get going, the others must be waiting for us."

"After you." he said smiling, his gestures expressing for you to lead the way.

You two walk in a comfortable silence most of the way until you see the others in distance. As you approach them, Jake's gaze meets yours:

"How are you feeling?"

"I will be fine"

He sighs and puts his hand on the small of your back, slowly closing the distance between you and your friends. He knew what this day meant to you. Losing Richy must still sting after all this time and being here after a year... Perhaps torture.

"Hello guys"

"Hi, MC! Hi, Jake! I'm so glad you could make it here" Jessy exclaimed happily.

"Oh, me too, you have no idea" you said smiling warmly.

You warmly greeted everyone and embarked on a journey through the festival, immersing yourself in every game and delight it had to offer, savoring each moment of joy and excitement. You anchored yourself in these moments, enjoying them wholeheartedly next to your friends.

You found yourself in a spot where the music was enchanting, and the atmosphere was filled with joy as people danced and had a great time.

Thomas and Hannah flew like two lovebirds towards the platform and started dancing, their movements as light as a feather. The sheer joy radiating from them was truly enchanting, spreading like a sweet melody through the air: it was just intoxicating. Jessy led the charge, followed by Cleo, Lilly, and Dan, while you and Jake strolled behind, soaking in the magical moment. The scene was filled with energy and excitement, creating a vibrant and lively atmosphere.

As you were walking quietly and listening to the music, you decide to break the silence.

"Do you dance?"

"No." he said without looking in your direction.

"Oh, alright."

"Ask me anyway"

"Do you want to dance with me?"

"Yes." he said glancing at you.

You smiled, maintaining eye contact as you got to the dance floor.

He extended his hand for you to grasp, guiding you onto the platform. As the music enveloped you both, you began to dance as if the melody was composed solely for the two of you. With each note, Jake skillfully led you in the dance, creating a harmonious and captivating rhythm between you.

After a few songs, a slow one began, and he drew you near, enveloping you in the gentle embrace of the music. The closeness between you two added a layer of intimacy to the dance, intensifying the emotions shared in that moment.

"When did you learn how to dance?" you asked.

"I figured you might want to dance today so... I did my research."

"You learnt to dance for me?"

He said nothing in return but tightened his embrace.

Maybe home has a heartbeat 🤍

****

I just loved writing this

prompts to @duskwood-mc-art for inspiring me to write it

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channieskies · 5 days ago

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕴𝕴𝕴: 𝕺𝖚𝖙𝖗𝖊́

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)

Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy

AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU

Word count: 6520 [Reading time: 27 Minutes ]

Networks: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society

Synopsis: You get the shock of your life, finding out just who and what you are. The veil is peeled back and thing start to become a little too clear for you.

CHAPTER INDEX

The back patio door swung open hard, pulling you both from the intense staring contest you were unwittingly having to see who had barged into your space. You mom stood at the threshold, her eyes as wide as saucers. “What have you done?” She shook with something akin to both anger and disappointment. “Y/N! Why did you do it?? Why?” She yelled, shocking both you and Chris. You stood and backed away, walking further down the steps and away from her wrath. You’d never seen her this angry before. She was normally the calmest person you knew, easing her way through even the toughest situations. “Why didn’t you wait for me? It’s my duty to take care of them! Now you-” She heaved the heaviest frustrated sigh. “God, what have you done?!” She dropped her head, her fingers tangling in her rust colored hair. “I guess it’s time to give you the talk I’ve been dreading since the day you were born......"

A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.

Last night felt like a fever dream. There was no way that your date-that-was-not-a-date with Chris unfolded like that. A kiss? A kiss shouldn’t have had that type of hold on you. The type of hold that had you touching your smiling lips just at the thought of it. You felt your bed dip ever so slightly, eyes traveling down to the intrusion. It was that damn cat again. What was it with that cat in your room? Did your mom make it chill in here while you were away or something? Socks came up to you, and put her paw on your hand, making you lower it. She then proceeded to boop your lips with her nose. “Was… was that a kiss?” She didn’t respond in the usual way she did, she just snuggled up to you, her cute face tucked into the crook of your arm. She must have really taken a liking to you, being that she was being affectionate with a complete stranger. Well, maybe not a complete stranger, you did introduce yourself yesterday. You stayed in bed, cuddled with your mother’s boss's cat, just petting her silky fur as she purred against you.

Just like the day before, there was a soft knock on your door before you mom peeked her head in. “Are you ready? I’ll be leaving in an hour or so for work.” She sighed looking at your form, still under the covers, still in pajamas. “You owe me, remember? You know this is important to me. So please, don’t disappoint me and say you aren’t going. ” Was it Sunday already? Gosh the weekend flew by in the blink of an eye. Your eyes flashed to the wolves you encountered the night before, your heartbeat quickening at the thought of the way it looked at you. You shuddered at the thought, wanting to push the memory as far down as you could get it. “You’re meeting my boss, so dress nice. Nothing with weird slogans or holes in it. Just.. just dress appropriately, okay?” She called for Socks, who quickly moved away from you and off the bed to your mom. “You've got an hour, young lady. Not a second more!” A hefty sigh passed your lips as you will yourself to get up and get out of bed. As a child, you would spend your weekends reading to other children in the pediatric ward of the hospital. You continued that tradition even in college, up until you left town abruptly.

It took you fifteen minutes less of the allotted time to get ready to go with your mother. You’d settled on just a plain, beige top and some army green cargo pants, so not to ‘embarrass’ your mother. As a matter of fact, she was the one cutting close to the hour she’d specifically told you that you had. “Okay, I know. I know.” Her large pink framed glasses sat on the edge of her nose as she searched the living room for something. Your mother was known around the hospital for her eccentricities. She kept her hair short and often colored a rusty color. Her glasses changed with whatever outfit she had on that day. So today they were pink, matching the yellow and pink Hello Kitty scrubs she planned for today, with her bright yellow crocs. She spoke, pulling her keys from the bowl she kept near the front door. “Grab Socks and let’s go, I don’t want to be late. Even though I’d blame it on you anyways.” All you could do was chuckle and shake your head, you knew she would absolutely blame it on you if she was late. She swung the door open and headed out to the car in her usual dramatic fashion, while you collected Socks from where she was lounging around.

Your mother drove like a bat out of hell to make sure she could find a good parking space at the always crowded city hospital. The last time you were here, your grandfather took his last breath, leaving you with a small hole in your heart from losing him. Guess it goes to show that all the men in your life eventually leave. If not by death, then by peacing the fuck out like you were some kind of leper they didn’t want to catch a case of doom and gloom from. With Socks in her carrier, you followed your mom in. After getting your visitors pass, you made your rounds, saying hello to old faces you hadn’t seen in months, even meeting some people who were new to you, but seemed to know everything about you. Your mom really had a knack of talking a little too much about you. Especially when you received several, ‘I feel like I know you’s’ from people you’d never met. You and her would have to have a chat about that later. As per usual, you were on volunteer duty. Your mom had found the perfect job for you to do while she waited for ‘Dr. Jay’, as she affectionately called him, to finish his first set of rounds.

With Socks on her leash, you perused the pediatric ward, looking for any child that needed ‘Kitty Care.’ According to one of the second-level nurses, Dr. Jay coined the phrase after Socks had made her first great escape from his office. She found her way to the playroom, where several children took turns playing with her. He noticed that after the kids spent time with Socks, some of their labs were better. So he brought her in twice a week to do her kitty nurse duties. Even when he was out of town, your mom took on the role of bringing Socks and taking her around. You guessed that it gave her something to do, other than work in her garden or do volunteer work.

You swear those were the only things that woman did, besides gossip about you, of course. You sat in the much too small chair as the children gathered around to play with the sweet cat. She must’ve loved her job, you could feel her purring in your lap, vibrating her calm energy into both you and the kids. They had been telling you how long they had been in the hospital and what they were in for. Some even went as far as to tell you their favorite things, some of which you’d never heard of. But then again, you were probably old enough to be their mother at this point. Especially taking in consideration that your baby would be the same age as the youngest in the room if he or she would have survived.

You probably wouldn't admit it, but it was nice to be around people, albeit little people, who had such a positive outlook on life. They were happy, despite whatever circumstances put them in this awful place. “It’s Dr. Jay!” One of the little girls said, her perfectly round little cheeks tinting with blush. You and Socks’ captive audience dispersed one by one, each of them heading on the other side of the hand painted partition. You put Socks down, so she could run off and greet her owner and proceeded to follow behind closely. You heard his deep chuckles before you saw his face. You were expecting, hell, you didn’t know what exactly you were expecting, but it wasn’t the man who greeted you. He was kneeling, talking to the smallest of the children when his eyes met yours. He looked up slowly and you stopped in your tracks.

This was Dr. Jay? You assumed he would be like any of the other bosses your mother had over the years. You thought he’d be some old man who had been a doctor for over half of his life. This man didn’t look a day over twenty-five, how the hell was he a practicing doctor? With his trendy gold rimless glasses, jeans far baggier than any doctor you'd ever seen before, and a graphic tee to blend his not a doctor look together under his white lab coat. This is the person your mom wanted you to dress up for? He ran his fingers through his thick hair, pushing it back just for it to fall back in his flawless face.“Dr. Jay, this lady had Socks with her! She's really nice! She's nurse Jenny's daughter.” He broke the searing eye contact he held with you for longer than he should have, with a chuckle, showing off his deep dimples.

Yes, that's what this man needed, dimples. He had to be God’s favorite, if you believed in that type of thing. He stood to his full height, which towered over both you and the children. “Ah, you must be Y/N. Your mother talks about you frequently. I feel as if I know you.” That makes him and everyone else in this damn hospital. His voice was unsuspectingly deep, and very smooth. You could listen to him talk in absolute gibberish or list off whatever medical jargon he knew and not have a problem with it. There was something about his eyes that pulled you towards him, you didn’t even notice you moved until one of the children pulled on your shirt. You looked down shocked, you could have sworn you were a few feet back from them and not in the little half circle they had formed around the doctor . “It’s nice to finally meet the woman behind all the stories your mother tells us.”

You were enraptured by his stunning beauty. What was with this place importing all this beauty after you left town? Christopher was one of the few attractive men you knew. By few, you mean, just him. There weren’t too many other people you were physically attracted to. You fell for your exes because of personality, as hard as that was to believe now that things had ended horribly. “I’m Jaehyun, or Dr. Jay, whichever you want to call me, is fine.” He extended his hand for you to shake and that's when you noticed you hadn’t said a word to this poor man. So much for making a good impression on your mom’s boss. No wonder she told you not to embarrass her, you were downright shamefully staring at this man.

“Wait- You're her boss? I thought you’d be much… um… older and much less handsome. She really omitted that part entirely.” You laughed, feeling that embarrassing heat creep up your neck to your face. Smooth. Real smooth. Sometimes your thoughts escape their mind prison through your mouth, unfortunately. “I mean- It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Jay.” You took his warm hand in yours, trying to avoid speaking again. As soon as your fingers grazed him, you had this overwhelming feeling of deja vu, like being caught in a never ending knot, intertwined like the interlaced branches that held together your handed down, moonstone necklace. When his hand enveloped yours, scenes flashed past your briefly closed eyelids like someone fast forwarding through a movie. Cultures and languages you didn’t know or understand, moments you'd never been a part of, people you didn’t know, all of it was foreign to you, but you were seeing it as if it was through your own eyes. As if you were the main character of whatever period piece you were being compelled to witness.

Have you known this man? Tears lined your eyes as you watched all that could have been. Or what was? You didn’t know, you didn’t remember any of this, this was the first time you were seeing anything of it. At least the first time in your lifetime. The last thing you saw was him crying at the bedside of whom you assumed was someone he deeply cared for, as the surroundings faded to darkness, dressed in clothes from a time period you didn’t recognize. You pulled your hand away quickly, rattled. What the fuck was that? You shook your head, trying to erase the fragmented realities that just passed your mind. But you felt dizzy with all of the information buzzing about in your brain. You felt lightheaded, overwhelmed with the information overload.

You snatched your hand back, afraid of what would come next if you continued skin to skin contact with the handsome doctor. “Are you okay?” He reached his hand out to check on you, but you quickly moved back. You couldn’t manage many of your mental faculties, so you just nodded in response. Did he see what you saw? Was he plagued with the same visions of what looked like the past as you had been? What in the empath hell had just happened to you? You could have sworn shit like that only happens on Charmed. You wanted to know if he saw or felt the same things you did, but at the same time, you didn’t want to stick around and find out, just in case you were tangled in some weird destined red string of fate type situation. Fate was laughable, especially when it came to the love bit of it. You wanted no parts of that.

You said your goodbyes to the kids, telling them you’d come back another time and left both the doctor and Socks in there with them. You could feel eyes on you as you passed by the large windows that surrounded the playroom. But when you looked back, no one was watching you, they all seemed preoccupied with Socks to even notice your existence. You booked it to where you last saw your mother. You waited until she finished with a patient before you informed her that you weren’t feeling well and would head back home on your own. She didn’t argue, shockingly, and actually told you to take the car. You declined, you knew how late her shift ran, and didn’t want her stranded here until you came to get her. Plus, it was only a thirty minute walk back home.

An hour had passed and you still couldn’t shake the fragments of a past you shared with Dr. Jay. Or someone's past with Dr. Jay. The concept in itself was strange. Past lives? Your grandmother had mentioned it a few times, but you could have sworn that the lady was a little senile with the crazy things she used to say. Witches, vampires, werewolves, hybrids, magic, you name it, she believed in it. She once told you a tale of how your family came to be, that you were cursed to be the caretakers of mythical creatures. What a sham, right? Clearly that couldn't be true, you'd volunteered plenty of time throughout your life and never once met anyone out of the ordinary.

Just regular people needing regular ass help. According to family lore, your ancestor, Enid something-another, was a witch. She owed a blood debt to someone who saved her from capture and a life of servitude. She’d told you that was the reason that the first born daughter was rooted and grounded to New Orleans once she inherited her powers and was taught how to wield them from her mother (or whatever power holder was before her). Your grandmother had broken the mold by having twin daughters, which was unheard of in your family, she often commented how she taught them both, but when the oldest twin died, she had to pass the torch to your mother.

Your mother. Your mother and all her Mrs. Frizzle like glory. That lady was many things, a witch she was not. Well, unless she cut you off in traffic, then yes, she was exactly that. No, your mother had been a mother, a nurse, a saint, a sister, a daughter, a lover, even a sort of botanist with her love of ugly plants. But there would never be a word that described her less. Witch. Ha, fat chance. Your grandmother, okay. Maybe you could justify that. With all her weird home remedies that she brewed over the open fire of your fireplace. The weird charms and crystals that decorated what is now your room.

The strange incantations she would say and the talismans she used to stuff in the seams of your clothes and other items to keep you safe, yes, your grandmother could have very well been a witch. But that's as far as you would have taken it in this family. So that bit of lore, you took with a grain of salt. You’d just chalk whatever you’d just experienced up to something weird going on with your hormones, and get past the weird feeling that lingered in your chest. You decided the best way to get over it would be to sleep yourself over it. You closed your eyes, hoping to drift off to lala land on a magic carpet or cloud, whatever got you there fast enough. But as soon as your eyes closed you started to hear the spookiest sound. It was like someone was scratching at the wall or the wood of a coffin.

Why was this happening to you all of a sudden? This town had its share of ghost stories, but why did it seem that you were being haunted? You closed your eyes tighter, straining to keep them that way. Gosh you wish you’d unpacked your white noise machine, you’d drown out that stupid sound with soothing rain at the highest volume. Then came the knocking. WTF? Your body shot up, glancing towards your door. The noise was inside the house. The noise was coming from outside your door. Was this how it ended for you? Being patient number two in the zombie apocalypse? You didn’t believe in vampires or werewolves, but zombies? Very plausible in your opinion.

You couldn’t be concerned about how the thought of zombies made no sense, blood suckers and moonlight making humans change into wolves was something you couldn’t wrap your head around. It sounded chimerical, like some writer's delusions being taken seriously and spread all over the world. Against your better judgment, you climbed out of the comfort of your canopy bed and stalked over to the door. You didn’t dare open it, that would be full of stupidity on your part. Why risk getting your face bit off?

You sank to your knees, then laid on the floor. You peeped past the small gap under your door to see who or what was outside of your door, just to be greeted by white paws that looked like little socks. You opened the door to be greeted by the cutest little head tilt and meow from none other that Socks herself. “I left you with your papa, ho-how did you get all the way here?” You scooped her into your arms, and she nuzzled into your embrace. “Did you walk all the way here pretty girl?” She meows loudly, confirming. “You are brave, you know that right?” You stood to your feet and headed to the bed, laying across it and snuggling up to the cat. “I saw Something when I touched your papa. Like.. flashbacks? I guess- I honestly don't know what to call them.” You explained while she watched you and simultaneously groomed herself. “It was weird, honestly. I hope I didn’t freak him out. I was trying my best to remain at least kind of calm, but that was a hard ask…” You trailed off, wondering why the heck you were explaining all of this to a cat who just walked miles to get to your mom’s house of all places. Like she lived here and not in whatever expensive place the doctor lived in.

“You must really like it here with momma if you walked all the way here.” You laid on your arm as you stared at the beautifully unique black and white kitty with heterochromatic eyes. “Does momma treat you well?” You smiled, knowing that she did. She wasn’t unkind to anyone, that included animals just as much as humans. You always admired her love for people, knowing that you didn’t share the same love. Hurt and trauma tended to do that to a person. You used to be like her, but after your father’s tragic passing, and the way it was swept under the rug just because the person who caused that was in the mayor’s family, you’d lost faith in humanity. After falling in and out of love over and over, you’d lost faith in that as well. You were out here on this lonely island, expecting no one would ever find you and rescue you from the secluded hell you’d been living in for the last few months. Your phone buzzed on your bedside table, you turned around to answer the text that had come in.

|Christopher: You up for a late night drive or something, later?

Your brows creased. After last night? Did he forget the kiss you shared? It was still fresh on your mind as if it had been a few minutes and not almost a full twenty-four hours ago. You mustered up the courage to reply, you couldn't just leave him on read.

|You: Depends. Where do you plan on taking me and what are your intentions?

It took him a few minutes to reply, the chat bubble appearing and disappearing again and again.

|Christopher: Someplace I’ve never taken you before. And as for my intentions……

|I’ll pick you up around 9 pm

One thing a man would always have was the audacity. Even your dear friend Christopher at the end of the day, was a man. But you couldn’t help but smile at his obvious avoidance of your question. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

You waited for Chris on your porch, taking in the sights and sounds of your street as it bathed in moonlight. The streetlight on the corner flickered on and off, it had been that way even before you left town. It’s amazing how some things change while others remain the same. You rocked on your great-grandmother's rocking chair, the one she had made herself. One that you hoped your mother would pass on to you, because of the beautiful marking she had all over it. Your mother had once told you they were protection runes. There were little things carved all over your house into the wood of the doors and windows. Apparently your great-grandmother was very paranoid when it came to demonic possession or something. Because what else would she need protection from? You checked your phone, it was well past nine and Christopher was nowhere to be found. That was unlike him in every sense of the word. He hated being a burden to people around him, so being on time was one way to make sure he wasn’t inconveniencing people. Even with all these years of knowing him, he was always either early or right on time, you don’t think he was ever late on his own accord.

You checked your phone again, to make sure he hadn’t called or text and you just missed it, but nothing. You were starting to get worried. What if something happened to him and he couldn’t call? You shook off sending yourself into a spiral and just called him. It rang and rang, before he picked up on the last of them. “Y/N, I-I’m so sorry..” His background sounded noisy, chaotic. People were yelling in what seemed to be panic. “I.. don’t think I’ll make it-” Someone shouted for him in the background, alarm was evident in their shaky voice. “Is your mom home?” He was apologizing for not being able to make the date that he planned, while also asking if your mom was home? What the entire fuck was going on with him? The hurt and disappointment that started to swirl in your chest was causing tears to brim your eyes.

“You stood me up and you’re asking about my mom? Christopher- What the fuck?” He sighed, you could hear him shuffling, but he didn’t reply at first. You were starting to replace all the other feelings with anger. What was his problem? “I thought you were over me leaving… Why are you being like this to me? I apologized time and time again.. Why would you turn around-” He cut you off.

“Is she home? I need… we need her help.” His worry was evident and as sad as it was to say, but it helped to quell that anger that was starting to suffocate you slowly. “Jeongin.. He’s hurt and I don’t know who else to call, she said she’d always help-” Jeongin? The youngest of his roommates? The kind but blunt little cutie that you wanted to take for yourself? How was he hurt? Now your mind really started to wonder just what he had gotten into with his friend instead of getting ready for his planned late night drive with you. He choked out a sob and it was like your call to action. Hearing him this sad squeezed at something deep inside you, made you hate hearing him in pain.

“Where are you?” There was more shuffling, like he was looking for a street name or something.

“A few blocks from your place.”

“Bring him. I’ll see what I can do.” Your mom used to patch you, your neighborhood friends, and random strangers up. You had watched her so many times, you were sure you could recreate the steps with ease. Anything to help.

“Thank you…” He hung up and it only took a few minutes for your silent street to be drenched in the grumble of his truck. How eight people fit into the bed and cab of it, you had no clue. Must have been a magic trick or something. They were loud as they shuffled past the wrought iron gate that led to your porch. Christopher carried Jeongin in his arms bridal style. He was carrying a full grown man in his arms and making it look extremely easy. But you couldn’t focus on that right now, the boy's life was in danger. There was blood everywhere. You got a glimpse of the wounds as the street light flickered on in the distance. You gasped. He needed a hospital, not a nurse or the nurse's incompetent daughter. You opened the door to the house, letting them in. Crowding the small home, the boys rushed to toss all your mothers nicknacks off the table and Chris laid Jeongin down on it. Seeing the gaping hole in the boy's stomach made you freeze in place. How could someone do this to such a sweet boy? He groaned and writhed on the table in pain. It felt like the oxygen and sound had been sucked out of the room as well as the sound as you took in the sight of him. All of the boys were lined up around the table, looking at you expectantly. You could feel their panic and it caused you to do so in turn. You swallowed hard, your heart picking up its pace, palms getting sweaty from the thought of fucking the boy with the gaping wound even more.

What if you couldn't help? What if your hands were connected to death instead of life like your mother’s? You had lost your baby. Clearly nurturing something to fruition wasn’t in the cards for you. Your vision blurred even more as someone stepped into your field of view. Warm hands settled on your shoulders before a forehead was pressed to your own. “Please, Y/N, just try. Please… I.. don’t want him to die. None of us do. We know you will try your best, yeah?” His muffled voice slowly brought the sound back with each word he spoke. You nodded, eyes focused on him as he looked down at you. He pressed his lips to your forehead in chaste kiss. “What do you need me to do?” Taking a deep breath in, you started to delegate things for each of them to do. You scrubbed your hands and found the closest thing to surgical gloves you could, black kitchen grade ones would have to do for now. Towels, several bottles of distilled water, saline solution, a pillow, and pain medication from the medicine cabinet. You, on the other hand, took to your mothers herbal cabinet where she kept all her home remedies. You’d seen her in here plenty of times, but being the one in here felt oddly familiar. It was like she was guiding you to grab the things that you’d need, sage, rosemary, thyme, cinnamon, calendula, centella asiatica, boswellia, manuka honey, and lamb ear. You grabbed the mortar and pestle and took it to the table, you began breaking and grinding the plants and herbs together into a paste.

“Someone bring the palo santo candle off of the living room table, it will help to get rid of whatever bad energy is holding this wound.” You took a bottle of water and poured it over a towel, you handed it to Minho so that he could clean the space around Jeongin’s gaping wound. You were normally too scatterbrained to multitask, but you were doing it now as if it was second nature. Like you were born to handle situations like this. “Okay, some of you are going to have to leave. Sit in the backyard or on the front porch if you want. But I need space. Chris and Minho can stay.” You centered yourself in the moment as the rest of the boys reluctantly evacuated the tiny house with groans of disappointment. It was just you and your two helpers and a currently unconscious Jeongin. “Chris, hold his arms, Minho gets his legs. This might be unpleasant.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you gathered the macerated herbs, honey and flowerlet mixture into your hands. You were going to have to pack to wound with the mixture before placing the lamb ear over it and actual bandage wraps over that to keep everything in place. Minho and Chris shared a look and took their positions as told. “Ready?”

It was a fight to get Jeongin to stay still as you tried your hand at helping his wound. But miraculously, Chris and Minho did a fantastic job at keeping him stationary. He was now resting in your bed, while the rest of the boys were littered around your house, doing their own thing while they waited for him to come to. You were perched on the back steps, looking up at the waxing crescent moon, a glass of whiskey in your shaky hand to calm your very frazzled nerves. You just did dining room surgery without a medical license, and you had no idea if the boy would survive because of you or die because of you. You raked your fingers through your hair and sighed. You needed a cigarette, just to take the edge off of these sharp ass feelings you were currently being overwhelmed with. You were even tolerating the cool night air, glad to be out of the suffocating house. How did he even end up like that? It wasn’t normal. His wound didn’t look like a knife made it, not even the most jagged of knives could have ripped him open like that. It looked like someone tore into him with… claws of all things. Your mind drifted back to that night on the road on the way back from Chris’s place and the large wolves that crossed the road that night. Could that have been what happened to Jeongin? Wolves got him? A shiver went down your spine, just to be replaced by the warmth of someone's hand. You startled. “My gosh- Christopher, you can’t sneak up on me like that!” He chuckled lightly, his feelings seeming a little lighter than they did earlier.

“I thought you would have heard the screen door.” He took a seat right next to you and pulled you into him for a comforting hug. His hand found yours, fingers wrapping around it, easing the tremors that caused it to quake. He was the epitome of comfort, always finding a way to give solace to your turbulent mind and heart. “Jeongin just woke up.” He kissed the top of your head as a way to express his gratitude. “Thank you for fighting for him so fiercely. I don’t think he could have waited for your mom’s shift to finish.” He sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. You could always tell when there was something on his mind, even now. “I think I should tell you what happened… I owe you that at least.” You pulled away to look at him, missing the warmth from his body almost immediately. You nodded for him to continue. “He was attacked. Hunted… really.” Your head snapped to his face to make sure you didn’t hear that wrong. “Jeongin and Seungmin went into town to see a movie.. But after it ended, they were confronted by this.. Pac- gang. They were asked to join them, but when they declined..” Your face morphed into one of horror while he remained calm. “They went for the one they knew would put up the biggest fight. They had more people than they boys thought… and they ended up pinning Seungmin while they.. Cl- cut into Jeongin. Telling them to take this as a message and a warning. Follow or die.” How could he be so calm about this? You had steam coming out of your ears. You were seeing red, Jeongin just wanted to see a movie with his friend and this is the outcome? You grit your teeth, trying to hold in your anger. “They beat Seungmin up after doing that to Innie. We found them in the alley behind the theater about an hour after they didn’t check in.”

You were seething. All this just because they wouldn’t join whatever gang of idiots did this to them? How was that even an incentive? That would make anyone more fearful of what they had in store for them if they did join. “Do I need to get my uncle to find out who they are? I can make a few calls and have their info to you within the hour or…” He stopped you, a soft smile facing his plump lips.

“We’ll get it taken care of, don’t worry. Changbin is gathering intel as we speak.” You were glad that Christopher had finally found his people. He struggled after coming here from Australia, even with him being the friendliest person you’d ever met, he still had people that didn’t like him. (Shocking, I know.) He’d even had beef with a rugby player, a violent mother fucker who you also couldn’t stand, Vaiden. That dude always acted like he had the biggest cock known to man and anyone should be thankful he was offering it to them. When he pushed up on you at a party after you ignored his advances, Chris fought for your honor. It was brutal, they pummeled each other on the concrete of the fraternity row. You still to this day can’t tell who won, because they were equally matched despite Vaiden being much taller and having at least a good fifty pounds on your dear friend. If it wasn’t for the cops being called, you were sure they would have killed each other. Him and his friends tried their best to make it hard for Chris, but he always persevered somehow. So with him now finding some other friends, besides the likes of you, was nice to see. He seemed at home with the boys. Like he was finally able to be himself out in the open instead of in the confines of yours or his dorm room. “We’ll take him home tonight, to make sure both you and him get a good night's sleep. You worked hard and you deserve to sleep in your own bed, with clean sheets of course.” You shook your head. His hand found yours once again, his fingers drawing patterns on your skin. It was probably as comforting to him as it was soothing to you.

“Jeongin can stay as long as he needs to. I just want him to get better. Plus, he needs to get all the rest he can while he recovers. I can sleep with my mom or take the pullout if need be.” He smiled at you fondly for reasons you wouldn’t understand. “If you want, I have my old sleeping bag, you can stay and use that.” It wasn’t like it would have been the first time he’d used it, he’d slept over a few times for the holidays since traveling back to Australia was a big hassle. Plus there was almost never enough time in a holiday for him to get there, have a good time, and get back. So most of the time was spent with you and your mom in this cramped little house. You smiled thinking about all the good times you shared with Chris. It didn’t matter if you were both too broke to afford food and had to go halfsies on a meal from McDonalds, you had each other through the hard times. You missed being in the trenches with your best friend. “It’s up to you, Chris. I’ll go with whatever you want.” He looked at you then, only to notice your eyes were already on him. He looked at you deeply as if something in your eyes would give him the answers he needed.

“Wait- did she just say Jeongin was up and walking?” Your head snapped in Chris’ direction as he looked at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“About that…”

PREVIOUS CHAPTER⇠☾⇢NEXT CHAPTER

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.』

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bun-lapin · 1 year ago

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Confessions

Summary: Silver confesses his love to you.

A/N: Sixth one shot complete, featuring Silver! I had trouble getting started on this one because Diasomnia as a whole is very mysterious to me (which is very on brand). But I really enjoyed thinking about some of the knightly aspects of Silver's character.

Confessions series: Rook, Kalim, Idia, Floyd, Vil, Silver, Leona, Trey / AO3

In the last few hours before sunset, the sun hangs heavy and golden in the sky. You methodically step your way through an overgrown field of grass and watch soft shadows trail behind some of the taller vegetation. Off in the distance you watch the horizon rise up into a low hill, crested by a large and ancient tree. The forest’s edge behind the giant tree is like a dark smudge against a sky painted with the pink and lavender hues of descending daylight.

A soft breeze passes through the field and sets the tall grass around you into a whispering, swaying motion. Their movement reveals a figure clothed in black, previously hidden, laying stretched out and still in the middle of a grassy ocean. You smile with quiet understanding and your feet lead you directly to the sleeping figure’s side. After carefully kneeling down, you reach out towards a black gloved hand laying on a broad chest, gently rising and falling with deep, drowsing breaths. Gently shaking his hand, you call out softly, “Wake up, Silver.”

You watch his eyes slowly open as Silver peacefully awakens and then turns his head to look at you. The slight movement causes his fair hair to sweep across his brow like a veil, obscuring and then revealing in one motion the mysterious aurora color of his gaze. He gently smiles up at you and whispers around a small, happy sigh, “I was just dreaming of you.”

You return the warmth in Silver’s smile with your own and ask with mild amusement, “Why were you sleeping in the middle of a field? It took me quite a while to find you today.”

Silver closes his eyes with a slightly dejected expression and drowsily explains, "I was thinking about something important and I looked up into the sky to better concentrate on my thoughts. I suppose I must have nodded off after that."

You tilt your head questioningly and ask, “What were you thinking about? Is it something you can share with me?”

Silver opens his eyes and briefly looks skyward with a serious and slightly conflicted expression. You watch a series of emotions rise and then fall across Silver’s face as he seems to carefully consider your question. After a few more moments of thoughtful silence, he apparently comes to a conclusion and turns his head to look up at you once more. He smiles with a gentle light in his face, eyes half open yet full of wonder as if still looking at a dream. He pats the ground next to him and softly asks, "Here. Lay down a moment and look at the sky with me?"

You give Silver a curious smile and a raised eyebrow in answer but regardless, you lay down in the grass next to him without any objections. You set your head down softly next to his and you look up at the sky as instructed. Laying comfortably on your back with your hands relaxed at your sides, you feel a reassuring warmth against the side of your body closest to Silver.

Once you’re settled into position, you hear a soft rustling as Silver shifts his body, closing the minimal space between the two of you and gently placing his shoulder against yours. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his arm raise to point at the sky and he asks quietly, “"Look up there. What do you see?"

You take in the sight of the sky, filled with the shifting colors of sunset and golden white, billowing clouds. “It’s very beautiful,” you say softly. Glancing at the general area of the sky that Silver is pointing too, you playfully remark, “That cloud over there looks like a teapot.”

Silver laughs lightly and drops his arm to his side. “You have quite the artistic eye to see a shape like that in the sky.” He turns his head to look at you and his voice drops to a whisper. “Now, shall I tell you what I see?”

You turn to look at Silver and see that his half open eyes, still heavy with lingering dreams, are sparkling with anticipation. You smile gently, settling into the peaceful stillness that surrounds the two of you, and silently nod to him. A small, quiet smile flutters across Silver’s lips and his clear voice rings out softly, resolute.

"When I look at the great expanse of the sky, from one edge to the other, all that comes to my mind is kindness. Although it may not seem like it at times, there is always good to be found in this world. It shows itself in secret, hidden ways to those who look closely. From the way the sun rises every morning, to the rain that falls over the living land, lately I have always been able to find kindness and warmth in a world that is often called cruel and cold.”

Silver pauses for a moment and studies your face with an expression of quiet joy and appreciation. He then closes his eyes and drops his head carefully against your shoulder. His voice, directed downwards into your shoulder now, sounds far away, as if heard in a distant dream of longing.

“I’ve spent quite some time puzzling over why I’ve been able to think like this. And looking up into the sky today, I finally realized the reason. If there is an inherent kindness in this world, it's because of love. It's because of you. It's the simple fact that you are here in this world, and that I love you."

Silver lifts his head and your gaze is immediately drawn to the fierce adoration in his eyes and the determined strength of his brows. You feel a pleasant, electric sensation of surprise jolt through your body at the intensity of the emotions on his face. Acting instinctively, you swiftly sit up and turn to face him. Silver mirrors your movements with smooth grace and the two of you sit silently facing each other, surrounded by the sighing sound of grass swaying in the wind and the fading radiance of sunset.

After a moment, Silver extends his open hand towards you and, in turn, your hand rises up to softly meet his waiting palm. Closing his eyes with a small smile, he lifts your hand to his lips and brushes a light kiss against the back of it. Silver then slowly lowers your hand but continues to hold it tenderly in his. He opens his eyes, revealing their aurora color suffused with gentle desire, and speaks softly, like he is addressing an ethereal vision.

"My love and my dream, you are everything. In the mornings when I wake, you're the first light of dawn. In the golden afternoons, you're the echoing laughter of good company. In the evenings after training, you're the tranquil silence and peace I breathe in. You’re everywhere, your existence is everywhere and everything to me."

Silver slightly shifts his weight as he leans himself closer towards you. Reacting on impulse, you lean towards him in response and his smile blooms wide and bright. While softly stroking the back your hand with his thumb, he whispers, "You have become, or maybe you always have been, the most precious part of my world. For one so irreplaceable, so dear, I don't have much to offer. I have only my life to give you and this vow." He raises your hand and gently presses it to his eyes, shut tight with solemn determination.

"I swear to you, for the rest of my mortal life and every life after, I will protect you and cherish you. I pledge to you my ever enduring loyalty and devotion. My love, for all eternity, I offer you my heart."

You silently trace your gaze down the length of your outstretched arm, a thin bridge connecting you to Silver’s form. You focus on the strength of his broad shoulders, lightly rising and falling with his steady breathing. A soft breeze rushes through the field around you and, for a briefly shining moment, you feel as if the land and sky have encircled the two of you in a deeply comforting embrace. You sigh softly with serenity and Silver lifts his brow from your hand. Seeing the expression on your face, he silently smiles with mirrored peace and wonder in his eyes.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst fanfic #twst silver #silver x reader #gn!reader #fluff and romance #bun-lapin écrit

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watchinghallmark · 4 months ago

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Summer Nights 2024 Lineup

The movies seem... interesting.

JUNEBUG

Saturday, August 3 (8 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Autumn Reeser (The Wedding Veil), Aaron O’Connell (The Haves and the Have Nots)

When an eight-year-old version of herself starts appearing to her, Juniper (Reeser) begins to realize that her life is not what she had hoped it would be as a child. Young Junebug pushes Juniper to achieve her dreams, to start writing again, and to collaborate with the cute artist Alex (O’Connell) that she recently met to get her life back on track.

🐞 I feel like this could be really cute. Autumn seems very excited about the project so hopefully that's a good sign.

MY DREAMS OF YOU

Saturday, August 10 (8 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Skyler Samuels (Aurora Teagarden Mysteries), Kapil Talwalkar (Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist)

Grace (Samuels) has recurring dreams about a handsome stranger named Michael (Talwalkar) due to a mix-up in Dream Central. When they finally meet in person, Grace is shocked to learn he has no idea who she is.

😴 I'm really excited about this casting! Kapil was great in ZEP and it's great to finally see some diversity (Hallmark you're sucking so bad lately with that).It sounds like it could be fun and also a little nutty which I like.

A COSTA RICAN WEDDING

Saturday, August 17 (8 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Rhiannon Fish (My Norwegian Holiday), Christopher Russell (Operation Nutcracker)

A clumsy maid of honor (Fish) gets help from her handsome nemesis (Russell) when things go awry at her best friend’s Costa Rican wedding.

🤵👰 The fact that they even describe her as clumsy... oof. Rhiannon can be hit or miss, especially when they have her play an idiot so often. Her paired with Chris is certainly not helping matters either.

THE MAGIC OF LEMON DROPS

Saturday, August 24 (8 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Lyndsy Fonseca (Nikita), Ian Harding (Pretty Little Liars)

When Lolly’s (Fonseca) Aunt gives her three magical lemon drops, she gets to experience what her life would have been like if she had made different choices and lived those unfulfilled dreams.

🍋... what? I feel like this is code for some hallucinogenic drugs but ok. Love both actors though so I'm interested.

HEAD OVER HEELS

Saturday, August 31 (8 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Rebecca Dalton (Good Witch), Olivier Renaud (Romance with a Twist)

A suburban girl at heart, Addison (Dalton), is off to prove herself in the world of high-end fashion footwear when she lands a life-changing internship at an Upper East Side studio leading up to the star-studded New York Fashion Week. Addison is determined to hold onto her integrity and her family values while struggling to balance it all and forge a path to success and romance, although she may fall head over heels while trying to make her dreams come true.

👠Yawn.

JAZZ RAMSEY: A K-9 MYSTERY

Friday, August 2 (9 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Rachel Skarsten (The Royal Nanny), Corey Sevier (Take Me Back for Christmas)

When Jazz Ramsey (Skarsten) and her crime detection dog Zeus stumble upon an old crime scene, the K-9 trainer, her star pup, and ex-boyfriend and lead detective Nick (Sevier) are thrown into the investigation.

🐶 Excited about this!

NELLY KNOWS MYSTERIES (wt)

Friday, August 23 (9 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Pascale Hutton (When Calls the Heart), Kavan Smith (When Calls the Heart)

When an unusual handwritten letter arrives at Nelly’s (Hutton) office, she identifies the handwriting as belonging to her childhood friend Dahlia (Sarah Grey, The Secret Lives of College Freshman), claiming her boyfriend Blake (Julian Haig, Dial S for Santa) is being unfaithful. Determined to help, Nelly wants some answers and rushes to Blake’s home only to find his dead body. When Dahlia becomes the prime suspect, the new, handsome Detective in town, Michael Hogan (Smith) must work with Nelly to prove that her childhood friend is not the killer everyone believes her to be.

📫A Pascale and Kavan mystery??? It's all I've ever wanted!

What do you think about these movies? What are you most excited for?

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hallmark-movie-fanatics · 4 months ago

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Hallmark Announces Its 2024 Summer Nights Lineup – All New Premieres in August

Premiering on Hallmark Channel:

JUNEBUG Saturday, August 3 (8 p.m. ET/PT) Starring: Autumn Reeser (The Wedding Veil), Aaron O’Connell (The Haves and the Have Nots)

MY DREAMS OF YOU Saturday, August 10 (8 p.m. ET/PT) Starring: Skyler Samuels (Aurora Teagarden Mysteries), Kapil Talwalkar (Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist)

A COSTA RICAN WEDDING Saturday, August 17 (8 p.m. ET/PT) Starring: Rhiannon Fish (My Norwegian Holiday), Christopher Russell (Operation Nutcracker)

A clumsy maid of honor (Fish) gets help from her handsome nemesis (Russell) when things go awry at her best friend’s Costa Rican wedding.

THE MAGIC OF LEMON DROPS Saturday, August 24 (8 p.m. ET/PT) Starring: Lyndsy Fonseca (Nikita), Ian Harding (Pretty Little Liars)

When Lolly’s (Fonseca) Aunt gives her three magical lemon drops, she gets to experience what her life would have been like if she had made different choices and lived those unfulfilled dreams.

HEAD OVER HEELS Saturday, August 31 (8 p.m. ET/PT) Starring: Rebecca Dalton (Good Witch), Olivier Renaud (Romance with a Twist)

Premiering on Hallmark Mystery:

JAZZ RAMSEY: A K-9 MYSTERY Friday, August 2 (9 p.m. ET/PT) Starring: Rachel Skarsten (The Royal Nanny), Corey Sevier (Take Me Back for Christmas)

NELLY KNOWS MYSTERIES (wt) Friday, August 23 (9 p.m. ET/PT) Starring: Pascale Hutton (When Calls the Heart), Kavan Smith (When Calls the Heart)

To read the entire article over at Soap Opera News click this LINK. And there's an article at TV Insider as well, click this LINK for more on that.

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handoverthekawaii · 10 months ago

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We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 27

Taglist: @theaudacitytowrite @hom3landr

“Good morning, New York,” says the woman on the TV. “Coming to you live from an undisclosed location, this is the news desk of Viridi Aurora.”

“Viridi Aurora?” you ask aloud, unconsciously repeating her words in your confusion. Viridi Aurora, as in, the ecoterrorist group?

“They must have highjacked the airwaves,” says John, snatching the remote from the countertop and beginning to surf the channels. Just as he predicted, the woman’s cold eyes stare out from the display at every frequency, the picture only stuttering slightly from one feed to the next.

“Our feature story this morning should come as no surprise,” the woman continues. “Despite dire warnings about the catastrophic impacts of climate change, global leaders and everyday citizens alike continue to turn a blind eye.”

As she speaks, a montage of clips begins to play in one corner of the picture. The visceral images of roaring wildfires and cleaving glaciers cause a feeling of familiar horror to wash over you, followed closely by a cold tendril of dread. An ominous thought fills your mind — What the hell are they up to?

“Our stance is unequivocal,” the terrorist declares. “Humanity itself is the perpetrator of these grievous crimes against nature. All people, in all societies, in all nations bear the burden of guilt.”

“Recognizing this, Viridi Aurora has long petitioned for acts of personal responsibility. Every individual must ‘do their part’ to cut out the cancer — the human cancer — from the body of Mother Earth.”

“But how have our exhortations been repaid?” She is getting more agitated now, slamming her hands on the table to punctuate her words. “With ostracism!” Slam. “Hatred!” Slam. “Apathy!”

“No more.” Your eyes dart over to John at this veiled threat. One of the woman’s hands disappears under the table, reappearing a moment later holding a gun.

“The United Nations General Assembly was called to order fifteen minutes ago,” she says. “And fifteen minutes from now, Viridi Aurora commandants will drop ten tons of weaponized anthrax from a cargo plane into the skies above Manhattan.”

[continued on AO3]

#ao3 writer #fanfic #homelander #the homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander the boys #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys homelander

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solas-backpack-mug · 1 year ago

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solavellan/solas song recommendations

+ short analyses

judas by lady gaga - partners in crime type solavellan. lavellan is enthusiastically helping solas tear the veil down. it's hot

bury a friend by billie eilish - solas is disgruntled by his failures and cannot figure out why lavellan cares for him. he is plagued by guilt. solas knows he has a duty to the people he doomed and he must fulfill it even if it would kill him. lavellan already knows too much about him but they are so captivating. edgy solas

paradise by coldplay - solas is wishing for a perfect elvhenan where everyone is free but it is out of his reach. he finds comfort in dreams

running with the wolves by aurora - sad da:dw era solavellan. the veil is in shambles. lavellan is saddened by solas' actions but sympathises with him

wolf by first aid kit - solavellan kid scenario. solas is sad, lavellan is tired. they're so divorced

#dragon age #solas #dragon age dreadwolf #solavellan #song recs #dragon age inquisition #lavellan #solas backpack mug

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addisonxoconnell · 4 months ago

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[female & she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [ADDISON O’CONNELL]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [DAKOTA JOHNSON]. You must be the [THIRTY-FOUR] year old [THERAPIST]. Word is you’re [OBSERVANT] but can also be a bit [DETACHED] and your favorite song is [CIRCLES BY PIERCE THE VEIL]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY DRIVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it @aurorabayaesthetic

warnings: mentions of suicidal ideation, parental abandonment, miscarriage

basics:

full name: Addison Renee O’Connell

nicknames: Addy, Ida, and Teddy used exclusively by her siblings

gender: female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: heterosexual

aesthetics: a lingering hint of perfume in every room she visits, a never-ending supply of notebooks and pens littered throughout her house, small lamps of warm light shining in corners to hide her messy life

age: 34

date of birth: april 1 1990

zodiac sign: aries

residence: aurora bay drive (due to her husband)

occupation: therapist

appearance:

faceclaim: dakota johnson

height: 5’7

build: slim athletic build with most of her strength in her arms and legs

eyes: blue

hair: dark brown

piercings: both lobe and upper lobes of ears, nostril stud, and a navel piercing

tattoos: left arm sleeve, ‘777’ tattooed above her right antecubital, 'bite me' tattooed on her butt cheek,

other distinguishing features: though her siblings look more like their mother, Addison looks most like her father

style: she’s very much into jewel toned colors and goes for more comfort than what’s in fashion. In a way, she’s settled nicely between the all black attire of her brother and the brighter colored attire of her sister

personality:

traits: observant, melancholic, thoughtful, quiet, aloof/detached

labels / tropes: the caim, the metanoia,

mental health: up in the air if she’s honest

physical health: the only reason she’s where she’s at physically is because yoga and kick boxing keeps her emotions in check

likes: French style hot chocolate, knitted blankets, yoga on the beach, weekly personal spa day at home, pastel highlighters, and the months of October and November

dislikes: the overwhelming smell of alcohol when someone drinks too much, the brightness of the afternoon sun, her parents, and cold food

fears: turning into her mother, spiders, her husband leaving her, and too small spaces

hobbies: reading smutty romance novels and fantasy novels, daily word search puzzles while she drinks her morning coffee, half ass attempts at knitting which end up as an incomplete project collecting dust, smoking at least one pack a day (she’s supposed to be quitting)

skills: considers herself an average yoga master, decently good at surfing, knows how to make homemade pasta and usually pairs it with her homemade alfredo sauce,

quirks: when nervous she twirls whichever ring she finds first on her hand, she needs coffee before any interaction with anyone including her husband, she likes to keep some money in her wallet just in case something goes wrong with her card

family:

mother: Janey O’Connell

father: Keith O’Connell (deceased)

siblings: Arkin O’Connell & Eden O’Connell

birth order: Arkin, Addison, then Eden

spouse / lover: soon to be wc

children: none (has had 3 miscarriages)

pets: a cat named Lady

notable close relatives: Nikki Keaton, Erica Manning & Serena Keaton

faves:

ice cream flavour: brownie batter

time of the day / night: early mornings

weather: rainy weekends

breakfast food: yogurt parfait

dinner food: salmon alfredo pasta

colours: teal and gold

wanted connections:

Childhood friends

The best friend who's been there from the start

Her own personal trainer at the gym

Her usual tattoo artist that she will only go to

Her girl gang

Neighbors

People she does yoga with in the mornings

Her own therapist

Her current husband (it will end quite messy)

Her high school ex boyfriend (a love will blossom here in the future)

A frenemy in which they have to get along with each other either bc of family involvement or possibly husband involvement

High school enemies that never really got over the betrayal so they continue to hate each other (maybe a boyfriend was stolen)

Husbands personal assistant (in the future he will leave addison for this woman due to having his baby)

biography:

Addison O’Connell didn’t think she’d live past the age of eighteen. She didn’t know what would suffocate her first - the never-ending grief of a life she’d never get, or the hole left in her heart from when her father left. It does sound quite selfish if you didn’t know the whole story, and you didn’t understand that at one point for a brief second, she did have a piece of happiness before it was ripped away.

Addison was born three minutes after Arkin. Mostly a surprise for the O’Connell family, as they were certain a baby would fix all of their problems (but not two babies). She grew up as being always waited on second to her brother. He seemed to be the loudest of the two, so he got anything and everything first. Not completely understanding it until grade school, she tried to follow in his footsteps and be loud and demanding as well. This resulted in a spanking and to be quiet. In all of her life, she never tried it again after that. A lesson was learned very quickly and probably wasn’t the best one for her young mind. Things weren’t going to be fair for her. She tried to be jealous of her brother. She tried to want more for herself, but it turned into wanting more attention than anything else.

Addison did everything she could to make her parents want to love her. She tried cleaning the house after school, doing all of her homework, and even figuring out how to make breakfast one morning (it was burnt toast). It never seemed to work. She was never met with a loving hug or any word of praise. It didn’t matter what she would do because her parents simply didn’t care. A fact that no one else in the world seemed was out of the ordinary. As if everyone avoided their children, when she knew her friends’ parents were completely different.

It wasn’t until their third child, their third attempt at fixing a horrible marriage, that their father had left. Addison never knew if it was from getting cold feet at having another mouth to feed or another soul to crush. A harsh statement, but as she didn’t feel anything but disgust for the man. It wouldn’t have been right to try to convince herself it was anything more honorable. A father he claimed to be, she didn’t see any resemblance of the fathers of her friends. There could have been a small light of hope that if part of the problem was gone, things could’ve been better for the O’Connell family. It eventually died out, with their mom having two jobs just to stay afloat in the two-bedroom apartment. The added stress meant more nights they’d find their mom passed out, either in the bathroom or sometimes in her bed. It left Addison and Arkin to raise a baby mostly on their own.

This had more of an effect on Addison as she continued to grow in the same environment that didn’t change if she was there or not. Besides keeping Eden alive and out of harms way, there wasn’t anything else needed from her. Arkin had his own life going on, and he didn’t necessarily need her as much as she needed him. She grew relaxed in her studies, the former high scores were slowly turning into more and more red marks and concerns from teachers. She started to sneak out at night after everyone had gone to bed. She tried to fill the hole her father left with anyone she could convince of being with her. The rumors going around certainly had its own troubling affect on her, but it only served as more fuel to stop trying.

Surprisingly, she continued her life at Ocean Crest before her brother was able to help turn everyone’s life around. No, she didn’t do any better in school and would be an awful student if college was ever in the future. But, Addison figured out, finally, that things had an effect on Eden and that maybe she might need to set a better example to follow. She could say it was the spite of proving her parents wrong. To show her mother how to actually be one when she wasn’t consumed in her own grief and despair. But two very important people would say otherwise. Her brother and sister wouldn’t have let her leave without them, and she didn’t want to leave them alone in the world. Not after everything they had been through together, it was just about a tradition at this point to stick together.

The idea of college never really appealed to her, but it was a way out. It was something new and different, and maybe she’d find a better version of herself out there. Which she did eventually find. It took some time and a few new habits gained instead of continuing on bad ones, but Addison O’Connell was able to turn her life around. She decided to become a therapist with the idea of helping people who really wanted a way to be better and not knowing where to start. She doesn’t know how much Aurora Bay might need her, but she wanted to be there for someone else like her. Addison wanted to be that person she never had as a child.

#addison || bio #suicidal thoughts mention tw #miscarriage mention tw #parental abandonment tw

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