#chapter 1260

[calekinnieplus]

Before he could consider what to say, the brass eyes hidden in the shadows emitted another voice:

“Your fate has intersected Amanises, Leodero, Adam, Amon, Herabergen, Aucuses, Medici, Ouroboros, as well as ‘Him’…”

With regards to the true names that the brass eyes had mentioned, Colin Iliad, Derrick, and Lovia were no strangers to the names. They knew that the first was the Evernight Goddess, followed by seven of the eight Kings of Angels. Furthermore, there was no lack of Sequence 0 true deities in the present day. This left them somewhat stunned. They couldn’t believe that Gehrman Sparrow would’ve crossed fates with so many high-level existences who exceeded Sequence 1.

MY BOY GEHRMAN OUT THERE FACING INCREDIBLY POWERFUL ENTITIES AND LIVING TO TELL THE TALE

LEGENDARY RANK FR FR

[wildemaven]

fifth anniversary : a curated love | dieter x poppy

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader (nicknamed Poppy) words: 1260 warnings: 18+ blog; smut adjacent or the build of it (nothing really graphic depicted), fluff, dieter and poppy being smooshy and very much themselves, reader is non descriptive but goes by the nickname Poppy, I think that’s it notes: god I love these two! I’ve missed them something fierce, so it was nice to revisit them— especially on such an exciting occasion. Thank you all for your endless love for them. It truly makes me giddy that you love them as much as I do!! Another big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for reading over this like she did every single chapter of the series 💕

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Creativity continues to bloom endlessly with Dieter in your life. In all aspects.

The gallery has been lucrative and busy, far beyond what you had expected when taking it over. Juggling the rotating parts of running over-booked art classes and sourcing new artists to spotlight, all while you’re teaching a rambunctious class of first graders and Dieter gathers scripts for new roles left and right. The chaos of life has you both feeling like two worn passing ships in the rough sea. Each day only allotting enough time for a quick good morning and good night.

When Dieter is away on location and the sun has gone down, you find yourself tucked away in your little home studio late at night. Your phone propped against the window with his handsome face on the screen as he reads over his lines while your paint brush moves aimlessly over the paper.

No amount of distance could sever your need to stay connected to each other.

But it's when the universe seems to align perfectly, nights like tonight, both of your schedules free of duties and obligations, that's when you find yourselves collaborating on a thrilling endeavor.

Your little home studio dimly lit. Candles scattered around the room. Flickering distorted shadows project across the walls. A warm aroma of dusty cedar and woody citrus melds with the musky aura emanating from your steamy bodies.

The wooden tabletop is rigid and uneven beneath you. Layers and layers of color, added since Dieter’s arrival into your life, massage into your back. Each dried nodule of paint, pricks of memories you’ve created alongside Dieter, aid in the pleasurable sensations streaming through you.

“Oh— fuck! Dieter—” The bristles of the new paint brush Dieter had gifted you fan out pressed against your skin, an ample amount of pressure used when Dieter drags it across your hardened nipple. The course hairs of the brush paired with cool wet paint on your overly sensitive peak, has your back arching off the table and your head tilted back, making your enjoyment more evident.

“You look so fucking good like this, Pops.” Dieter muses.

He leans on his arm, supporting his upper body as it hovers over your exposed form. His attention alternates between the languid brush strokes he's creating and your reactions to his touch. The very definition of an eager artist with a newly acquired blank canvas, ready to create a colorful masterpiece.

Dieter’s eyes, brimming with creativity and ardor, study your form like a painter studying his muse. Each ardent stroke he paints onto your skin is an affirmation of his adoration— a testament to the connection you share. His fingers, stained with hues of love and longing, trace the contours of your body, creating a symphony of colors that only you two understand.

His breath hitches as he looks down at you, admiring his work. You. His masterpiece. A silent vow passing between you. The air in the room now rich with the scent of paint and the undercurrent of your shared intimacy.

"Beautiful," Dieter whispers, his voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the room. His eyes, shadowed yet shining, meet yours as his fingers slide through the drying paint, tracing the path his brush had taken, goosebumps erupting in their wake. Each touch sends an electric thrill coursing through your veins, amplifying the connection between you two.

You remain silent, wearing a faint smile as you look up at him, basking in the way Dieter is so consumed by the moment.

"Ah! Wait!! No!! Stop!!" A fit of giggles infuses the blissful atmosphere as your body jolts and writhes when Dieter touches a hypersensitive spot on your torso.

"What! Are you— Are you laughing?" Dieter's movements halt, taken aback by your sudden burst of laughter.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry— you know how ticklish I am right there. Sorry, I didn’t mean to break the mood.”

"Fuck—I'm sorry. I was so lost in the moment. I didn’t even think— I just wanted this to be perfect for you." Dieter hangs his head, dejected by the ruined moment.

“No! No— Babe, hey— it’s perfect!” You tell him. Your hand sliding up the length of his arm, then reaching up to cup his face, pulling his attention back to you.

Dieter surprised you with dinner at the same restaurant where you had your first date. You both laughed and cried, reminiscing about how far your relationship has come. After exchanging gifts and sharing a passionate kiss, Dieter took your hand and led you to the studio room. A romantic setup awaited you, a room filled with memories of the past few years. This was where you both shared your first 'I love you's, a marriage proposal, and countless hours of artwork and late-night conversations. Each memory etched into every corner of the space.

"Yeah, but you're laughing, not the reaction I was hoping for. I was hoping for some of those sexy little moans you do or even 'Oh Dieter, don't stop keep going you sex machine'. Damn, Poppy. I’m sorry I ruined this whole moment."

"Dieter, stop. First of all, I'm never going to call you a sex machine, no matter how much it turns you on. So you can forget about that fantasy. Secondly, you didn't ruin anything. I'm enjoying myself, completely— I promise."

"Really?"

"Yes, Dieter. You planned this whole special night for me. Plus, you went and got me those paint brushes I've been wanting. And the way you’re using them on me right now— everything is perfect.”

A few months ago, during a visit to a major art supply store in Los Angeles, you mentioned you wanted them. Dieter suggested you get them, but you decided you didn't need a new set right then and chose to wait.

"Not just any brush. They're made from wood too, which makes them extra special. Especially on a day like today." He loved how your face lit up when you opened the gift. You dropped the gift, threw yourself into his arms, and kissed him with endless gratitude.

"How so?" You ask, as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer until he's just a breath away.

"5 years. I looked it up and the 5-year anniversary is wood. I might have not figured that out until after I bought them— but that’s beside the point." He whispers, his lips softly brushing against yours.

"Oh— well, how apropos." You reach down between your bodies, grabbing a handful of Dieter's hard cock straining behind his comfy lounge pants.

Dieter's eyes flutter and his body tenses as you grip him firmly. "Fuck, Poppy!" His voice strained with pleasure.

“Happy Anniversary, Mr. Bravo. I'd appreciate it if you fucked me now."

"Mmmmm— I'd love nothing more than to make love to my wife." He says before his lips slowly mold over yours.

It’s a curated masterpiece. A creation of you both, crafted meticulously in slow unhurried movements and pure euphoria as the hours burn through the night on your fifth wedding anniversary. It becomes more than just mingled breaths and paint on skin, more than just vows reaffirmed five years later. It's persistent love. An ongoing commitment. A strong declaration to your beautiful connection. It's a tangible imprint of your shared moments, silently narrating your story together.

[delicatebarness]

bring him home | chapter four

Summary: The beginning of the support groups, and a mission with your sister.

Warning: MCU Spoilers. Mentions of Grief. Violence. Car Crash. Guns.

Word Count: 1260

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A/N: It was quite fun to write a mission with Natasha.

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Surrounded by community leaders, counselors, volunteers, and fellow Avengers, you sat at a large wooden table in a conference room filled with tension. The topic of discussion was that of establishing support groups for those still trying to grasp the aftermath of the Snap. 

“So, we all agree that there’s a real need for this,” said the head of the community center. Her voice held a lace of hope, though her eyes were weary. “But we need to decide on a structure, the goals, and how we reach out.” 

You nodded, a weight of responsibility once again settling on your shoulders. “I think the focus should be on creating a safe space, a space where people can share their stories,” you said, your gaze not once lifting from the piece of paper in front of you. “They need to know they’re not alone, there are others who understand.” 

Several others around the table gave verbal acknowledgments. A tall man, who had lost his wife and daughter, spoke up. “We need to provide resources for the ones struggling to find their footing. Assistance with job placement, mental health service, and even social activities… rebuild a sense of community.” 

For another hour, the discussion continued, and ideas flowed freely with contributions of thoughts and suggestions. There was a clear plan of action by the end, in two weeks the first meeting would be held. 

And you would be leading it. 

~

It was supposed to be a routine mission with Natasha, to extract Dr. Ivan Petrov from Iran. The mission was critical, he was a nuclear engineer who contained vital information, and Natasha trusted your skills, yet she insisted on having you by her side, wanting to keep you close. 

As the two of you crossed the Ukraine border, near the outskirts of Odesa, Natasha kept her eyes sharp, scanning the road and surroundings. In the passenger seat, you sat equally alert, with Dr. Petrov in the back. The tension in the car grew as the landscape was barren and quiet. 

Suddenly, a ping echoed through the air, a sharp and metallic ping, causing the car to swerve. The tires under you were shot out. 

“Hold on!” Natasha shouted, gripping the wheel. She used all her strength to control the car as it spun out of control. Skidding, the vehicle careened off the edge of the cliff.

As you plunged downward, time seemed to slow. Unbuckling your seatbelts, you and Natasha used your precise training as you gained speed. Natasha grabbed Dr. Petrov as you kicked open the doors, and you all leaped out before hitting the rocky ground below. 

After tumbling down the slope, Natasha quickly assessed your surroundings. You watched as the smoke rose from the wreckage, the car lying in a twisted heap below. With no sign of your attacker, you all knew you had little time. 

“Get up,” she commanded, steadying you to your feet. “We need to move.” 

Following her lead, you moved around the slope using the sparse trees and boulders to seek cover. Rustling came from behind you, causing your attention to snap as a figure emerged from the shadows. 

He wore a mask, but his arm was unmistakable– Soldat. 

“The Winter Soldier,” Dr. Petrov whispered, his voice tinged with dread. 

A chill ran down your spine as your mind filled with the memories of him. Standing before you, a ghost of the past, the man who made you what you are today. 

Natasha tightened her grip on Dr. Petrov, narrowing her eyes as she assessed the situation. Conflict etched on her face, should she protect, fight, or survive? She was a force to be reckoned with, however, similar to you, she became wary in the presence of this man. 

With her firearm steady in her hand, she positioned herself between you and the Winter Soldier, with a calculated grace and her gaze locking with his. As she prepared to to defend, you sensed her uncertainty, this wasn’t just another target, this was someone she knew… someone she had once trusted around you. 

He stood motionless, his expression hidden behind the mask, yet his eyes pierced at her. You could feel his gaze burning through her as if he could see you hidden behind. 

“Nat, he’s different,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. “It’s Soldat.” 

The air thickened with tension, the impending danger was a feeling you couldn’t shake. He stood before you, silent and imposing. Natasha’s eyes flickered with recognition, her grip tightening ever so slightly on Dr. Petrov. 

But, before you could react, the Winter Soldier moved. He raised his weapon in a fluid motion, aim locked on Natasha. You watched in horror as time slowed. The sound of gunfire echoed, stillness in the air. 

Natasha staggered backward as the shot rang out. Disbelief flashed across her face as his bullet tore through her abdomen. She fought to stay on her feet, stumbling, her grip on Dr. Petrov faltering. 

“No!” you cried out, lunging forward, you reached to catch your sister as she fell. Her body collapsed against yours. 

Her blood began to stain your hands as her breaths filled with desperation. The doctor stood frozen in shock. 

“Soldat, please!” you cried, raw emotions straining your voice. “It’s me! Spiderling!” 

Your desperate plea for recognition hung in the air, yet it seemed no semblance of humanity broke through the facade of the Winter Soldier. His weapon and gaze stayed fixed on Natasha. Blocking her injured body with yours, you prepared for him to deliver another blow. 

It was then he spoke, “Run,” he commanded, “Run and don’t look back.” his tone was devoid of emotion, his gaze unwavering. 

You knew you had no choice, your sister’s life hung in the balance, once again you obeyed his orders. Gathering your strength, you helped Natasha steady herself, leaning her weight against you as you began to retreat.

~

Two weeks later you were stood in front of a packed room, each person carrying their weight of grief and loss. Looking out at their faces, the weight of responsibility carried heavy. 

You took a deep breath as you began the meeting, you tried to keep your voice steady as you addressed the room. “Thank you all for being here today,” you started, as you rifled through papers, “I know that each of us has experienced unimaginable loss in the last year and a half. But, today, we come together not just to mourn, but to support one another in our journey,” you paused, clearing the lump forming in your throat. “Our journey toward healing.” 

A palpable sense of emotion filled the room as you spoke, shared sorrow and pain heavy in the air. But beneath it all, a small glimmer of hope. 

Throughout the meeting, you listened as people shared their stories, trembling with emotion as they recalled memories of loved ones. You tried to offer words of comfort and encouragement. 

You felt a sense of pride wash over you as the meeting started to draw to a close. And, in the weeks and months that followed, the groups offered a lifeline to those struggling to cope. This was exactly where you were meant to be, standing with and for fellow survivors. 

For Bucky, all he wanted was peace, and you knew that seeing you support these people in finding that peace would have brought him a sense of contentment. He may not have been able to be here with you physically, but he was with you in your heart.

---

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[acourtofbooksandshadows]

Not So Routine- Chapter 9

Summary: Between Mor and yourself the day is full of surprises.

Pairings: Eventual!Nessian x Afab!Reader Current!Mor x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, fighting and swearing.

Word count: 1260

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A soft hand was running up and down the skin of your arm when you woke up. You let a quiet content moan slip pass your lips as you nuzzled into the warmth beside you. A soft laugh filled the space around you and a small smile adorned your lips. The hand on your arm stopped and you groaned out in protest. 

“Why’d you stop?” Your voice cracked around the words due to how dry your throat was. 

“Now that you’re awake I was going to see if you wanted to go and get breakfast. Unless you want to stay in and eat here.” Mor kept her voice low enough to keep the peaceful atmosphere but loud enough to be heard clearly. 

“We never go out to eat.” You pulled away from her and narrowed your eyes on her face. It never really crossed your mind that you could go out to eat breakfast with her. The relationship you had was kept under such tight wraps that it didn’t seem like a possibility. 

“Well you’ve got the day off work so I figured maybe we could make a day out of it.” You gave her an utterly confused look because you hadn’t had a day off in a long long time. You felt no need to take days off. Even when your best friend insisted you do. 

“I don’t take days off.” Curiosity crawled along your spine and into your mind. 

“I sent a note to the shop that you would be taking the day off. Your best friend was ecstatic at the idea and didn’t protest for a second. She even threatened to tie you to your bed if you attempted to go in anyways.” Mor gave you a mischievous smile, you looked at her and wondered why she had gone to all the trouble. Then your mind drifted to the ordeal of last night and you understood. This was her way of getting your mind off of things. You placed a kiss on her cheek before standing up. 

“Where would you like to eat?” You felt a prick of longing and sadness nestled within your chest and you fought to block off the bonds. You hadn’t even thought of doing that last night. So you were sure they had felt everything you had. Which scared you more than the memory itself did. You heard her name a nice brunch spot in town as you made your way into your bathroom. You brushed your teeth and made quick work of brushing your hair out and putting it in a braid before you left the tiny room. 

“I need to stop by the house of wind after breakfast. If that’s alright with you?” You shrugged your shoulders and told her you didn’t mind. You both got ready in comfortable silence, she wore a pair of your casual pants and a nice red flowy camisole and light jacket with them. Even though the outfit was utterly relaxed she looked absolutely stunning. You wore a pair of pants and a sweater. Brunch went smoothly and the both of you walked towards the house of wind in a relaxed manner. 

“We’ll have to winnow up there. But you have to make sure to catch yourself from the fall.” She hadn’t expected you to be so graceful when you landed. It had taken her years to master the free fall land. But you, well you landed it perfectly. 

“What do you need to grab?” You asked her as you walked into the house. 

“Need to grab a book from the library. But we should make a shortstop.” You studied her face for a moment before realization dawned on you. She was tricking you into something, you weren’t sure what it was but the glint in her eye gave you enough proof there was definitely an ulterior motive for your stop today. But you didn’t ask her what it was as she led you through the house and to the roof, which was filled with females and one male.

Your breath left you in one foul swoop as you gazed upon your mates. Cassian had a look of determination and authority radiating off him as he surveyed the group in front of him. He was watching as the group of women spared together. Nesta was up against a gorgeous Illyrian female. She was perfectly honed grace as she glided across the ground, dodging attacks and performing ones of her own. You turned to Mor when you heard her let out a long sigh. Her eyes were fixated on the Illyrian female and you realized that her detour was as much for her as it was for you. 

“You should ask her out.” Your words were a whisper in the wind and had Mor not been so close she wouldn’t have heard them. She shook her head sadly however. 

“I don’t think she’s interested.” You’d never seen her quite so sad and there was no way you were gonna let her continue her pouting. You turned back to the group with a new determination flickering through you. 

You watched as the winged female flipped Nesta onto her back and held her by her throat. You fought down the urge that built up inside you to go over and tear the winged females throat out. Nesta was okay and smiling as the female helped her stand. So there was no need to go feral, you told yourself. 

A flirty smile marked your lips as you walked up to the pair. You noticed out of the corner of your eye Cassian straightened up. A flicker of confusion whipped down the bond connecting you two. But you didn’t let that stop you. Nesta stopped smiling when you approached and gave you a narrowed look. 

“Hello.” A perfectly flirtatious and inquisitive lit was in your voice as you faced the Illyrian. You ignored Nesta completely even as jealousy whipped against your bond with her. You held out a hand and the female took it lightly. You pulled her towards you ever so slightly and she gave you a bewildered look. 

“Uhm hi. I’m Emerie.” Her words were hesitant as she looked at Nesta’s glare and then over towards Cassian who looked ready to level the rooftop they were on. 

“That’s a very pretty name for a very pretty female.” Her eyes were wide in the wake of your compliment. “Mor and I are planning to go to Rita’s for drinks tonight. We would love it if you would accompany us.” You fluttered your lashes at her and watched as shock filled her features. You could tell she wanted to look at the blonde standing in the doorway behind you, but she kept her eyes on you instead. 

“I think I can make that work. Nesta, would you and Cassian like to join us?” You kept your surprise under wraps as you turned to the seething female next to you. You gave her a lazy smile and she returned it with a scowl. 

“We would love to.” It was Cassian that agreed to the proposal. Every ounce of confidence within you flew away. 

“Sounds great. We’ll see you there.” The words were rushed out as you turned and headed back towards Mor, a whiff of Cassian’s scent finding your nose as you passed him. A groan got locked in your throat as you tried to contain the emotions raging through you. As you passed through the door with a surprised Mor you wondered what the fuck you had gotten yourself into.

A/N: This part was shorter but the next part is longer and has a bit more meat to it! Thank you all for reading and as always likes, comments, reblogs and follows are much appreciated.

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[thewriterthatghostedyou]

Chapter 1

Happy Halloween! I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter! It is a little smaller than I would like so I am also going to release chapter 2 today as an extra Halloween treat!

Word count: 1260

Warnings: mention of past violence

Divider by @zaldritzosrose

The repairs of Bitterbridge were slow and arduous but you felt a peace at being home. If you squinted long enough at the halls filled with lightened red stains you could almost hear your mother scolding Edric for tracking in mud or your father’s booming laugh.

“My lady,” Your handmaiden, Gaella, looked at you with concern as she laced your corset tightly. “You aren’t truly thinking of attending, are you?”

You sighed heavily, the letter containing a summons to King’s Landing feeling heavy in your hands. “I have no choice. As easily as Aegon allows me to keep Bitterbridge, he could just as easily take it away.”

“But you’ve only just returned.” Gaella was your mother’s handmaid, and survived the sack only by hiding in the castle’s secret passageways before escaping to Old Town until returning was safe. You had almost cried tears of joy at seeing her familiar face upon your return.

“I know.” Your shoulders fell as you spoke. “But the repairs are ahead of schedule and shall continue as planned thanks to Lady Tyrell.” The clever lady of Highgarden had taken pity on you, alone with no family and decided to aid in funding the reconstruction of Bitterbridge.

“You are welcome to join me if you’d like.” You turn to face Gaella’s older face lined with slight wrinkles. “I could really use a friend there.”

The older woman shuffled on her feet before nodding slowly. “My lady, I will follow you wherever you ask.”

You gave her a grateful smile as she finished and you stood in front of a cracked full length mirror.

“We leave tomorrow at first light,” You said, brushing your skirts out. “Take the rest of the day to pack and prepare.”

Gaella curtsied deeply before walking towards the door. “I will be ready, my lady.” She promised confidently.

You shot her a wordless but thankful smile as she left and found yourself lost in your thoughts, rereading the letter in your hands for what must have been the hundredth time.

Lady Y/n Caswell,

You are cordially summoned to attend the celebration marking the end of the Dance of Dragons and the triumphant ascension of King Aegon, second of his name, to his rightful throne.

Alongside the festivities, both Princes will be choosing an eligible lady for their brides. As Prince Aemond’s own lady wife passed in childbirth alongside the babe and Daeron has come of age it is the Crown’s wish to see the Targaryen line grow strong once again after such needless loss.

A group of such eligible ladies has already been decided by the council and as a young lady of a reputable house under the Tyrell banner you will be considered alongside other ladies for this honor.

The celebrations shall begin in a month's time and your attendance is expected to mend the fragile relationship between House Caswell and the Throne.

You scoffed in disbelief at the words that did not change no matter how many times you read them. You knew that your invitation to the capital was only given out of expectation and to further prove your loyalty to the Green King. And as for the last half of the letter, you felt bile rise into your throat. Daeron had burnt your home to a crisp and his army slaughtered your people. And from tales you heard about his older brother you knew that he was no better.

You knew that such news; however unappealing of an offer it was to you, was being met with much joy and planning by the other houses in the realm. ‘Good.’ You thought to yourself with a tired smile. ‘Perhaps they will keep the two princes busy while I go through the motions.’

Leaving your chambers to meet with the carpenters tasked on the reconstruction of your keep, you took the long path down to the grand entrance, refusing to pass the roof that your beloved mother had hung herself from in despair. Perhaps one day the stabbing pain you felt at her loss would fade into a duller sensation, but today was not that day.

The month spent on the road was long and boring. And you found yourself switching from riding in the carriage to being on horseback in an effort to change your scenery. Of course this impromptu trip did not excuse you from the large stacks of letters and missives that you were required to pour over as Lady of your house. Bills and requests for aid filled the majority of your day as you worked ceaselessly to aid your people in whatever way you could.

You had never expected to find yourself back in the capital after the events of your last stay and your mouth grew dry as the familiar keep loomed at you from a distance. The once Black banners that hung from outer walls were replaced with a garish green and you bit your lip nervously as your carriage pulled up to the entrance.

A young squire, dressed in Hightower green, approached you with a welcoming smile before leading you to one of the many guest chambers that the Keep had. Although you were not opposed to his help, the Red Keep was a building you knew as well as your own ancestral home and the memories within it made you want to retreat to your rooms immediately.

You spent the rest of that day pacing and exploring the new rooms, finding that you had been provided with a washroom, chamber pot area, bed room, and seating area which seemed rather grandly decorated for a lady of a lesser house. Especially one that had sided with Rhaenyra.

‘I suppose that there are worse places to be imprisoned in.’ You thought to yourself while eating dinner in your seating room. Laughter and joyous conversations were able to be made out through the thick walls and it was obvious that the rest of the King’s guests had taken their dinner in the main hall to begin the endless preening and idle flattery that they believed would raise their station.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to eat with the rest of the court?” Gaella had asked as she set a platter of roasted goose glazed in honey in front of you. Your mouth watered at the sight of the meal and were relieved to see that the chefs in the Keep were still as skilled as they had been months ago.

“Absolutely sure.” You grabbed your utensils and sliced into the meat with a scoff. “King Aegon does not require my presence for his ‘celebration’ until the morrow and seeing as I have no desire to torture myself more than necessary, I plan on remaining away from the court as much as I am able.”

You popped a grape into your mouth after you spoke and chewed it slowly. “Besides, the royal family have more important guests to worry about than me. I will gratefully allow them to monopolize their time.”

Now, with an old tome about the histories of Asshai by your side, you ate in relative comfort. You were alone, yes, but you found that you had gotten used to the feeling as the war had gone on. You had only just arrived back at court and you already lulled yourself to sleep that night with thoughts about returning home as soon as you could. The pleasant dreams chasing away the regular nightmares you had of water forcing its way into your throat as you sank deep into the Gullet.

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[zephyra-in-the-house]

hi!! I was gonna ask if it’s not a spoiler, roughly how old were macaque and wukong when they met in Second Chances? also I love ur story and can’t wait until the next chapter!!! I hope everything’s going good!!!

Thank you! Things could be better at the moment but we're working through it 💪

In any case, I have been meaning to make a proper timeline of major events for Second Chances for a while now. So, since this question was asked twice, I finally got the motivation to draw up a rough timeline!!

(Disclaimer: These are not exact dates/years. They're just rough estimates of what happened and when. Also, there is a slight spoiler if you squint.)

The timline goes as such:

4300 years ago- PIF was born

4000 years ago- Macaque was born.

3930 years ago- DBK was born.

3900 years ago- Macaque left the village he was born in.

3800 years ago- Wukong was born on FFM.

3500 years ago- Macaque joined Sijumu.

3100 years ago- Wukong began training under Shifu Subodhi.

3000 years ago- Macaque was forced to bond with the shadow lantern (Yong Ye).

2901 years ago- Macaque escaped Sijumu.

2900 years ago- Macaque arrived on FFM (The Solar Eclipse).

2700 years ago- Snowy Days

2400 years ago- A group of assassins found Macaque and injured both him and Wukong (beginning scene of Ch. 3).

2300 years ago- Macaque and Wukong found their scarfs. (Shopping scene in Ch. 11)

2250 years ago- Wukong “borrowed” armor and Ruyi Jingu Bang from Ao Guang.

2000 years ago- They met DBK.

1800 years ago- Founded the Brotherhood.

1500 years ago- Wukong got recruited by the Heavens only to be positioned as a stable boy.

1400 years ago- The War on Heaven began.

1350 years ago- Princess Iron Fan was tried and acquitted for having relations with DBK.

1260 years ago- PIF and DBK got married.

1220 years ago- The 8th and final siege on Heaven ended with Wukong becoming subservient to the Jade Emporer in Heaven.

1200 years ago- The siege of Flower Fruit Mountain. Wukong was captured and thrown into the furnace while his home was burned.

800 years ago- Macaque left FFM to find Wukong.

700 years ago- Macaque was killed.

~502 years ago- DBK and PIF found out that Macaque has been dead for over 200 years. DBK went on a rampage and was then sealed under what would become Megapolis.

400 years ago- Macaque was revived by the Lady Bone Demon.

350 years ago- Macaque and Wukong met again for the first time since Macaque died.

100 years ago- Macaque was taken in and healed by Wukong on FFM.

1 year ago- LBD was defeated.

So, to answer your question, Macaque was 1100 years old and Wukong was 900 when they first met~

Thanks for the question!

[chilaios-bi]

Title: Hunger (That Is Not Your Own)

Author: MistakesWereMade (Lilmia_Casand)

Rating: Not Rated

No Archive Warnings Apply

N/A

Fandom: ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi | Delicious in Dungeon

Relationships: Chilchuck Tims & Laios Touden

Characters: Laios Touden, Chilchuck Tims

Tags: Vore, Soft Vore, Safe Vore, No NSFW, SFW Vore, Hurt/Comfort, Pred Laios, Prey Chilchuck, Unwilling Vore, Unwilling Pred, Unwilling Prey, Monsters, Tentacle Monsters, Same Size Vore

Language: English

Words: 1260

Chapters: 2/3

chapter 1 under the cut

Laios didn’t recognize the monster, it was fast, and large, but its main body was hidden somewhere he couldn’t locate.  Blue tentacles that all ended in different shapes emerged from the walls and wherever there was a gap in the stones beneath the party’s feet.

Laios tried to analyze the creature, slicing off limbs that got too close.  He quickly determined that it was looking for something.  Its tentacles seemed to be able to see somehow, and each one acted fairly individually, was it possible that each one was an individual monster?

And then one of the blue things managed to wrap around Chilchuck, lifting him into the air.  Laios launched himself forward without a thought, slicing through the appendage.  As Chilchuck fell the short distance to the floor a tentacle wrapped itself around Laios and lifted him up, Laios tried to turn and slash it with Kensuke, only for Kensuke to be ripped out of his hands by another tentacle that seemed to split into what could almost be fingers at the end.

Marcille let out a shout of fear, Laios twisted his head and saw that her staff had been knocked away, Senshi chopped through several tentacles with his ax as he tried to reach Marcille.  Laios attempted to bite down on the tentacle holding him hostage, but it had no give, it was like biting thick leather.

Senshi was captured and his ax dropped out of reach, and Laios felt his heart stop in his chest as Chilchuck started cursing, Laios tilted his head, and yeah, they were all being held up in the air, far enough off the ground that getting their weapons was nearly impossible.

He tensed as a new tentacle examined him, it seemed to be checking…his height?  Laios frowned, he needed to figure out how this monster worked before anyone died.

Once it was done, it moved over to Marcille and started examining her as well.  New tentacles sprung up and started pulling Laios’s armor off, Laios squirmed, trying to prevent his defenses being removed, but he couldn’t break the grip the monster had on him.

The tentacle that was examining Marcille moved on to Senshi, and then finally Chilchuck.  Laios winced as the last of his armor was removed and dropped onto the floor of the dungeon. The creature tugged at his shirt consideringly, as if debating if it was armor too, before it tugged it off with frightening dexterity.

The tentacle examining Chilchuck finally seemed satisfied, it slipped away, vanishing into the wall.  Something was off about this whole encounter…

Then a new tentacle appeared, it had some kind of sucker on the tip, which latched onto Laios’s forehead and began to glow.  Laios thrashed for a moment, a last-ditch effort to escape, only for the light to somehow pour into him, settling under his skin for a moment before vanishing.  The tentacle then retreated, leaving Laios panting from his attempts to break free.

Then Chilchuck was being dragged over before his small body was slammed into Laios, knocking the air out of both of their lungs.

The monster seemed to be deciding something, comparing the two of them somehow, why was it doing that?  What goal could be accomplished with two adventurers?  Was this unique to how it interacted with humans or would it have attacked a group of smaller monsters the same way?

Laios was yanked out of his thoughts by a tentacle approaching his face again, this one didn’t have anything special about it from appearance alone, but…

It wrapped around his jaw and pried his mouth open, Laios made a startled sound and tried to bite down on it again but could get his jaw closed.  Laios growled in frustration, but it sounded weak without being able to move his mouth properly.

The tentacles were moving Chilchuck again, who had started thrashing wildly as if he’d realized something, but despite all of the cursing, if he’d made some sort of connection he wasn’t sharing with the group.

Their only hope was that Marcille could pull off a spell right now despite being restrained.

And then the top of Chilchuck’s head was being pressed against Laios’s open mouth.

What.

Laios blinked…what was the monster trying to do?  Chilchuck wasn’t going to fit in Laios’s mouth, but clearly the monster had forced his mouth open for a reason—

And then impossibly, Chilchuck’s head began to push into Laios’s mouth.  That wasn’t possible!?  How was this happening??!  Laios tried to use his arms to push Chilchuck away, but they were too firmly trapped by his sides at this point.

Laios made a panicked sound as the entirety of Chilchuck’s head was somehow shoved into his mouth by the monster.  Chilchuck was kicking his legs wildly, the only part of him free to move at this point.

Laios could hear Marcille screaming something, but his mind couldn’t parse out her words, the panic in his chest was like a loud buzzing in his ears as he felt something large enter his throat.

This had to be a nightmare, right?  This couldn’t be real?

Laios felt frozen, he wasn’t choking, he could breathe just fine, he wasn’t ripped apart by what was happening, impossible thing after impossible thing.  This monster was somehow manipulating reality.

Chilchuck’s voice suddenly slammed into Laios’s brain, rattled around inside of his head.

“Laios!  FUCK!  FUCK!  This isn’t happening!” followed by dozens of swear words in half-foot.

Laios felt something wet drip down his cheek, oh, he was crying.  It didn’t feel real, none of this felt real.  Maybe he would wake up and he wouldn’t have failed everyone so badly—

Chilchuck was now as much inside of Laios as he was outside.  Laios hadn’t swallowed even once, but that didn’t seem to matter.  He could feel Chilchuck’s weight shifting, moving lower in his chest.

Laios whimpered.

In seconds his stomach began to feel heavy, full and it hurt like he’d over indulged, not like an entire person was being forced down his throat.  Nothing hurt.  Everything should hurt.

Slowly the rest of Chilchuck slid down into Laios’s middle, the skin of his belly taught around its new cargo.  Without the tentacles restraining him, Chilchuck squirmed, he didn’t thrash oddly enough, Laios’s mouth was released and it snapped shut without his say-so, his jaw exhausted from being forced open for so long.  Surely if Chilchuck kicked hard enough he could break free?  Laios doubted his organs were strong enough to contain a living thing as large as a half-foot.

Laios tried to move as he found himself being lowered to the ground, but the world felt foggy.  He was full, way too full.

His belly was swollen and heavy, and he could see Chilchuck shifting beneath his skin.

The tentacles released him, and Laios found himself lying on the cold floor of the dungeon.  His whole body ached.

Laios whimpered, closing his eyes, he could hear noises that he assumed were Marcille and Senshi panicking, but he couldn’t do anything.  Laios realized vaguely that he was falling asleep, although passing out might be the more accurate term.  Something inside of him felt like it was glowing golden, like it was wrapped around Chilchuck who was safe and warm and protected…

Laios had the odd thought that that wasn’t true, but the weight in his belly dissuaded him from that notion, of course Chilchuck was safe, Laios was holding him inside, protected by layers of flesh and muscle…

Somehow, even behind his eyelids, the world went dark.

[tragedycoded]

Previous plan of breaking up Chapter 28 (Hofer POV) into two chapters and then making each half longer is backfiring.

New Chapter 28 works just fucking fine at 1600 words. It'll be fine next draft.

Chapter 31 is 1260 words and something's missing but my reading comprehension is so dogshit today that I can't tell what needs to happen to make the chapter not feel undercooked.

[ao3feed-matchablossom]

In Your Arms

by kirizonos Kojiro always knows how to make Kaoru feel better, especially in moments of anxiety and worry. Words: 1260, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: SK8 the Infinity (Anime) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom, Nanjo Kojiro | Joe Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom Additional Tags: DK matchablossom, Parties, clubs, Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom Has Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship source https://archiveofourown.org/works/57368527

[dreamy625]

Overture and beginners - chapter 1

In early 1979, a junior typist at GEC Traction meets a curly-haired apprentice from the machine shop

Words: 1260

Content: Mentions of casual drinking in this chapter

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

Katie supposed she’d known Steve Clark for most of her life, though to be honest she hadn’t paid much attention to him at school. He’d been in the year above, and she’d only noticed him in the morass of spots and football boots that was fifth form boys because he was always hanging round the music rooms when she was there for choir practice. He’d had hair grown just past his collar, which was against the school rules, and she’d wondered how he got away with it. Linda, one of the more boy-crazy members of her class, had tried to cajole him into joining the choir, but he’d just shaken his head shyly and melted away into one of the practice rooms. 

A few months after she’d started as the most junior of junior typists at GEC Traction, she’d recognised him in the canteen. His hair was longer and curly now, but definitely the same boy. He was sitting with the other apprentices from the machine room, a rowdy bunch that she made careful efforts to avoid because they were known to leer and whistle at any female employee who had to venture onto the factory floor. This lad, she couldn’t remember his name just then, seemed to be on the edge of the group, smiling along but not really joining in with the banter. She watched him for a minute or so as the queue inched its way towards the serving hatch, before getting distracted by the choice of soup or cottage pie.

It was months later when she encountered him again, at The Wentworth just round the corner. She usually steered clear of the pubs near work on Friday evenings - they tended to get rowdy and it was mostly just an opportunity for the boys from the machine shop to try and cop off with the girls from the electrical workshop - but it was Maureen’s last day before she left to get married, so all the women from the office who didn’t need to rush back home to cook someone’s tea had come out to celebrate. Katie had planned on staying for just one drink before her date with Gary, but everyone was in a party mood, and some of the older ladies started telling salacious stories about the managers, and suddenly it was gone seven o’clock. She used the payphone in the corridor to call Gary’s house - he hadn’t come home yet, but she left an apologetic message with his mam, maybe slightly exaggerating how much of a friend Maureen was, and returned to the gathering guilt-free. 

By the time it was her turn to buy the next round, the pub had filled up and the throng around the bar was two-deep. She exchanged an eyeroll of fellow-feeling with the customer queuing next to her and then had a moment of recognition.

“You work at GEC, right?”

“Yeah, machine shop. You’re there too?”

“Yup, in the office. I type. Actually, I do more tea-making than typing.”

“Well that’s a useful skill for a Yorkshire lass,” said the young man, and cringed inwardly at such a dad-like comment.

“Actually, I think we might have gone to school together? Wisewood? You did music or something?”

Steve studied her face. “Oh yeah,” he said, nodding, “you do look familiar. You were in the choir?”

“Yup, mezzo-soprano, fourth from the left.”

“Do you still sing?”

“Only in the bath! Do you still play…” She realised she never noticed what he was actually doing in the music room.

“Guitar. A bit. ‘M in a band.” He almost mumbled the last part.

“Oh, cool. I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name?”

“Steve, Steve Clark. And you’re...?”

“Katherine. Well, Katie to everyone who’s not my parents.”

“Nice to meet you, or meet you again, Katie.” He held out his hand in a cramped elbow-up handshake, as they were still trapped in the press of people around the bar. “Are you here with…?” The question tailed off.

Katie gestured to her table, where it seemed another of the apprentices was trying to chat up Janet (120wpm shorthand and E-cup boobs, one or other of those impressive attributes making her an object of great fascination to the men in the factory). “With the girls from work. And it looks like they’ve made a new friend.”

“Oh that’s Charlie, loud but harmless.”

When they reached the front of the queue, Steve, ever the gentleman, let Katie go first. And when the drinks arrived, he offered to help carry them.

“What about your drinks?”

He flapped a hand dismissively. “They can wait. They’re all drunk enough anyway.” He turned towards the table but then looked back. “Do you play pool?”

“Yeah, badly. Why…”

“Badly’ll do.” A mischievous smile formed on his face as he headed to where the women were sitting.

Depositing the drinks, he leant in and whispered in Charlie’s ear. 

Charlie grinned at the suggestion. “We challenge you ladies to a game of pool - if you win, you get to go on a date with me!”

“That was not what I…” 

“And what happens if we lose?”

“You have to go on two dates with him!”

“Hey!” Charlie elbowed his mate in the stomach, but it didn't stop Steve from laughing.

Katie and Janet agreed to the challenge, if not the 'prize' and, with Caroline from Accounts chaperoning in case the boys got handsy (with four grown kids of her own, she had moved on to mothering all the unmarried girls in the office), they moved to the pool table in the corner.

Katie was, as she'd admitted, pretty terrible at pool. Steve was good, and the boys won the first game easily. As they were racking up for the rematch, Charlie suggested they mix it up, him with Janet, and Steve and Katie together. This was a transparent excuse for Charlie to try his best moves on his teammate, putting his arms around her to ‘help’ her line up her shot and somehow always needing to get to the side of the table that meant squeezing past her. Janet put up only token resistance, despite Caroline's disapproving stare. Katie found herself noticing how Steve’s awkwardness vanished when he was concentrating; there was something graceful in the way he moved around the table, and he smiled just as easily when he mis-hit and potted the white as when he made a tricky shot. His skill and Charlie's distraction meant they won the second game, with Steve claiming he was the overall champion, having been on both winning teams. He declined the 'prize' but, from the looks they were giving one another, it seemed like Janet would happily take his place.

"So, um…"

The question he was building up to was interrupted by a passing slap on the back from one of the other apprentices. "We're going for chips, you coming?"

With a glance at Katie he hesitated for a second before shyness got the better of him. "Err, okay, be there in a sec," he called. Turning back to Katie he asked, "I guess I'm off then. You alright getting home?"

"Yup, Caroline and I get the same bus so we'll go together."

"That's good… um… do you think you'll be here next Friday?"

"Oh, yeah, probably. I come in here a lot." (Massive lie.)

"Cool. So… maybe I'll see you then?"

"Sure." 

She smiled and his carefully nonchalant demeanour was torpedoed by a broad grin. He raised his hand in a half-wave as he turned and took quick steps to catch up with his mates. 

Chapter 2 >

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Will there be a tomorrow?

by MasterWuPinkGString "He found Tim, unmoving and sprawled out on the cold hard ground. Hood thought he was dead at first, but after more of an inspection, he was breathing, but bleeding out. He needed medical attention, now. " Words: 1260, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Tim Drake (DCU), Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Kon-El | Conner Kent Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Trust Issues, Gun Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort via https://ift.tt/MFP9Okb

[calekinnieplus]

At this moment, he felt fortunate that he had already taken care of Shadow and restored his spirit to its complete state. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to completely restrict his Virtual Persona. When he was imagining how to do the greeting, he almost blurted out “Hi, Sassy.”

PFFFT KLEIN LMAO

[ginnyrules27]

Hey Ginny, any snippets for ToF, CL, StoF and HaH?

“Thank you Mal,” Sammy said as Smee gave Mal a small smile; the Smee twins still happily occupied with the arcade that had appeared with Ginny’s arrival. 

“You’d do the same for me if Hadie needed protection,” Mal said with a small shrug. 

-Truth or Fiction (chapter 112)

“Thanks Chad,” Mal said and took the offered bottle before taking Bianca back from Ben; smiling slightly as Ben faked a pout at no longer having his daughter in his arms. She leaned back in her seat and smiled as Bianca began to eat. 

-Choosing Life (chapter 59, currently 3353 words)

They could have left, especially after word had gotten out that Frollo had sired a daughter.  No, the Isle had not found out about Jessica Hook potentially being Frollo’s but rather Frollo had sired another daughter. Milah had immediately argued that they shouldn’t leave the poor girl in Frollo’s clutches but it was shot down by Hook and Hades. 

Hook’s argument, that they would only be inviting Frollo’s ire to be focused on them once more, had seemed to be the stronger of the two arguments however Hades was rather proud of his point that taking the child who was rightfully Frollo’s (no matter how much it disgusted them) would have made them no better than Maleficent stealing Malionë. 

-Small Twist of Fates (chapter 39, currently 1522 words)

“I understand you like swords, my good man?” Emir asked. 

Harry chuckled. “Like might not be the best word to use but yeah, I like ‘em.” 

“You wanna spar? My big brother’s been teaching me some moves from his junior league ROAR practices.” 

-Half and Half (chapter 40, currently 1260 words)

[dhr-ao3]

Wunderghost tips: the best ways to terrify wizards

Wunderghost tips: the best ways to terrify wizards https://ift.tt/5ebgwhI by Dashimba Neville Longbottom is missing. His girlfriend Luna Lovegood is crying in the waiting room. Remus Lupin is away on his honeymoon. Draco Malfoy is trying to get used to his new job. Hermione Granger, a gifted inventor, builds poltergeist traps in the attic of an abandoned fire station in London. Auror Draco Malfoy is forced to work with her to find Neville Longbottom, get a promotion, while trying not to die in an antique store possessed by dodgy crazy spirits. Words: 1260, Chapters: 1/20, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Teddy Lupin, Neville Longbottom Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood Additional Tags: Humor, Romance, Simp Draco Malfoy, Genius Hermione Granger, Auror Draco Malfoy, Aurors, Enemies to Lovers, Detectives, Ghosts, Ghost Hunters, Halloween, Magical Artifacts, Idiots in Love, Partners in Crime via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/nLCdBHh October 31, 2024 at 12:25PM

[ao3feed-jaydick]

all in good fun

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60171922 by Eriord The game was simple; whoever could make Dick come the most in a single week, got to take him to bed on Sunday.   _________ For Omega Dick Week 2024: Day 6 Gotham's Most Eligible Omega | Pack Omega | Bitching Words: 1260, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Only Dick and Tim are really in this first part, Free use omegas, Normalized Incest, aged up Damian Wayne, Pack Omega Dick Grayson, Omega Dick Grayson, Alpha Jason Todd, Alpha Tim Drake (DCU), Alpha Damian Wayne, Alpha Bruce Wayne, this is very silly, All the trigger warning associated with a free use universe, Mildly Dubious Consent, Cockblocking read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60171922

[ao3feed-twiyor]

Pretty little scars

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/icRkpND by MDSpencer Twilight has always been a man. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his doubts Words: 1260, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: SPY x FAMILY (Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Anya Forger Relationships: Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess Additional Tags: Trans Loid Forger | Twilight, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Period Typical Attitudes, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, top surgery, Coming Out read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/icRkpND