#feelings on a page {drabbles}

[nottspocket]

A comic for @bkdk-and-extras because he wrote a drabble that ate my brain; go read it it’s right here.

Anyway I took way too long on this, but I hope you enjoyed!

[rosedforbes]

I've been working on this for an embarrassing amount of time, but i finally mustered the courage to post it! this a gift for @galvanizedfriend , my favorite autor, moot, and dare I say friend, on tumblr! Yokan, I'll never stop saying that your fictions are the only thing keeping me sane at the moment, and they've always been a tiny lantern during some tough periods of my life. I really hope you'll like this little Drabble about Kleve 🙏

DISCLAIMERS: Eve is NOT my character, she's from Yokan's series The Wolf ! also, this is my first time ever writing a fan fiction, and English is not my native language, so please, have mercy.

maybe there's a god, after all.

That's the thought that has been crossing Klaus' mind for sixteen years, every single time he looked at his little girl.

After his experience with Marcel, Klaus has realized that raising a child into his own reflection is not a smart move. In fact, if Eve had turned out like her father, it would've been the very end of the whole human - and inhuman - species. Luckily for everyone, his beautiful princess is essentially the mini version of the only woman who shares the custody of his immortal heart with her: Caroline.

They couldn't be more similar if they tried. Like mother, like daughter.

If it wasn't for some specific details that Eve couldn't have taken from anyone but him, Klaus thinks that people would start questioning if Caroline made Eve by herself, without the contribution that is usually required to create another living creature.

That, is all him.

Even if he's quite proud – and grateful — about how Eve's turned out just like her magnificent mother, Klaus can't help but smile when he witness the appearance of one those details he mentioned before: the fondness for art, the passion for swords duels — a voice in the back of his mind reminds him of something Caroline said about this specific factor, "it's called fencing, Klaus. You don't need to kill your opponent anymore to prove your victory." or something along those lines —  the constant presence of dark humor and sarcasm in any of her conversations, and her gigantic, stormy blue eyes that are accompanied by a pair of dimples and a wicked little smile whenever she got something on her mind.

Something that Eve clearly hasn't taken from him though, is her way of showing emotions. Just like his wife, Eve wears her emotions like a second skin, which leads to her being a terrible liar. If she's happy, then the room will light up as soon as she enters it, and everyone can't help but be drawn to her joyful behavior. On the other end, if she's feeling sad, angry, or any other kind of negative emotion, then... Well, she would keep her mouth shut and open it just to make salty remarks, keeping an annoyed — yet adorable, if you ask him — little pout on her face.

That's how Klaus knows that something is wrong.

As soon as he sets foot in the compound, he's greeted by a very common view: Freya and Eve, sitting around the table of the living room, reading and chanting spells.

Normally, Klaus would walk towards them just to make them aware of his presence and to steal a kiss on his daughter's cheek as a brief salute, but he soon realizes that Freya is the only one writing down something in witch gibberish, while Eve is just quietly looking at her aunt, with a frowned expression all over her face.

His little wolf is so caught up on Freya's doing that she doesn't notice him until he's behind her, trying to understand what kind of spell his sister is casting, with a hand gently touching her shoulder. Eve tenses up at the touch, turning her head to look at him almost as fast as a regular vampire. As soon as she sees him though, she relaxes a little bit, offering him a tight lipped smile.

"Hey, Daddy," she says, voice so quiet and hoarse that he probably wouldn't have heard her if it wasn't for his vampirism. " 'm sorry, didn't hear you coming in."

Hearing Eve talking with such a tired and low tone makes his heart explode with concern. She's pure sunshine, his daughter, this cloud of negativity does not belong to her. Nonetheless, he tries to mask his thoughts with a tight lipped smile, looking down at Eve, "Don't worry, sweetheart," He says, moving his eyes to his sister, who hasn't left hers from the grimoires spread around the table even as he introduced himself, "Freya, care to explain what's happening or do I have to guess?" He asks with a tone that indicates nothing but irritation.

Klaus arches his brows in confusion, his gaze switching between Eve and Freya, as to ask for one of them to elaborate what he just heard.

Freya finally looks up, if only to send him a not-so-friendly glare, but before she can snap right back at him, Eve takes word, looking at him like she's about to have a nervous breakdown "Apparently, I'm on house arrest until the Jury," she indicates Freya with her eyes, before turning her attention back to him, "tells me otherwise."  She concludes, and the exasperation of her tone is almost touchable.

It's Freya the one that, with a sigh, steps in. "Some witches have been messing around with a kind of magic way too difficult for them to understand, leading to an imbalance that covers all New Orleans." She explains, rubbing her hands on her temples. "Long story short: right now, every witch in New Orleans is having trouble controlling their magic, especially the younger ones like Eve. In addition, being the tribid gives her an enormous amount of power which is hard to control on a good day, so it's better if we keep her under control, in a limited and safe space."

Eve rolls her eyes as soon as Freya concludes, shifting her position to show him the magic-restraining bracelet on her wrist. "I haven't seen this freaking bracelet in years. I thought I was finally free, but no, some dumbass witch thought it was a good idea to mess with something way too big for them to understand, turning me into a fu-"

"Language." Both Klaus and Freya interrupts her, giving Eve a warning look.

she glares at both of them, visibly annoyed.

"turning me into a freaking bomb." she grumbles, looking down at the pages of the grimoires.

Christ, Klaus thinks, he's losing points as the cool parent.

"Dad?" Eve says, looking at him with an arched eyebrow, like she's expecting something from him. "Are you still here? You haven't threatened anyone since you heard of this, and it's more concerning than a bunch of low-level witches messing around." She concludes.

Klaus takes a long sigh, pulling out his phone from his pocket to send a message to Caroline and the rest of the family. It takes all of his willpower to not storm out and look for this gang of inconsiderate witches, accompanied by nothing but his fury, showing them the treatment that is reserved specifically to the ones that put his daughter in a bad mood, but he recognized the fact that this situation is already unsteady, and there is no space for his impulsiveness, yet.

Well, the sarcastic remarks are only funny when they're not directed at him.

"Trust me, Eve, I have lots to say, but none of it is appropriate in the presence of a child." he retorts, switching his attention back to Freya. "I've sent a message to Caroline and to our siblings, they should all be here in about 40 minutes."

Freya simply nods, gathering all the magic stuff from the table. "I'll call Vincent." she stands up, giving a kiss on Eve's head. "I'm pretty sure he's more informed than us at the moment. Besides, another witch would be helpful."

"what am I? a ghost?!" Eve snaps when Freya disappears in her own bedroom. "I can't use magic, I'm on house arrest, this handcuff is back around my wrist and I haven't even had my daily bignets!" she explains desperately, curling on herself, resting her chin and arms over her knees.

Klaus can't help the low chuckles coming out of his mouth, something that earns him a dirty look from his little wolf.

"I'm glad you find my misery amusing. Father of the year, really." Eve says, enunciating her pout even more.

"Not at all, sweetheart. To be completely honest, I would love nothing more than to go fetch those witches myself and show them what happens when someone dares to upset my daughter," Eve promptly rolls his eyes at that, but he sees how she's trying to bite back a smile.

"However, Your mother would eviscerate me if my impulsiveness took place in a delicate situation such as this one."

"Then what do we do while waiting for mom to come home?" Eve says, and truth to be told, patience has never been a strong suits of her.

"Well, I did get that new painting set you've mentioned lately." He says with a grin, observing how Eve's pout changes to a wide smile between record time.

"The pink one?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"You're the best!" she chirps, jumping from her chair to wrap her arms around his waist, the bad mood evaporating completely from her body. Klaus can't help but smile when he looks down at his daughter, holding her close to him. Oh, how he wishes time would stop, just to remain like this for at least a decade, with his little girl safe, sound and happy in his arms, where no bad intentions can reach her.

"Come on, sweetheart," He says, grabbing her hands "let's see if those colors actually blend on their own." he concludes with a wink, leading her towards the art studio. He knows this happiness is going to be short-lived, but the least he can do is to keep Eve's mind occupied, distracting her from the stress of this situation. As he enters the room, Klaus notices that he's running out of dark red acrylic.

Well, it appears those witches are going to be useful, after all.

[sisterdivinium]

Now is the time to place your bets on whether or not this hyper self-indulgent doctor superion Vampire the Masquerade AU fic will or won't get to 100 handwritten pages...

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

[tvckerwash]

bros I'm not gonna finish my rare pair week project in time

[ddagent]

"Subtext" (Teaser)

As excitement bubbled up inside him, the Bentley pulled into the visitor bay right by the school gates. The driver’s side door opened. Aziraphale’s heart clenched. He knew the grainy black and white picture splashed on the back cover of all Crowley’s work; he had memorised the snake tattoo on his right cheek; the cords of his throat. He supposed, in all honesty, he expected a black and white version to stumble out of the driver’s side. But Anthony Crowley was living colour. His hair was a shock of red, falling over his shoulders. His eyes were shrouded with thick, black sunglasses. Skinny jeans. Blazer. Silver scarf. Hips that moved as if they weren’t attached to the rest of him.

Aziraphale’s mouth went dry. He had always had a professional respect for Anthony Crowley. Perhaps, indulging in a fantasy or two, thought they might be friends. But the warmth settling low in his belly went far beyond friendship. Aziraphale’s gaze slipped to the languid roll of Crowley’s hips as his path curved around the front of the Bentley and he came forward to address Aziraphale. Good Lord, please have a voice like a mouse. A muppet. Anything to stop me fantasising about you all day.

“Aziraphale Fell?” Oh, fuck. No one had ever said Aziraphale’s name in such a fashion before. Crowley rasped the syllables; they fell from his tongue like honey. Aziraphale managed a squeak in response. “I’m here for an author meeting?”

[savage-rhi]

Magensia?

[astraveil]

would love to know the dynamic between Astra and Y'shtola

HOO BOY I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM ACTUALLY

Y’shtola and Astra weren’t exactly close in ARR; comrades, sure, but on a level most would consider just cordial. Getting to know each other better through the ordeal that was pre-Titan events and commiserating with the absurdity of it all, the two grew closer over time and would have certainly considered themselves good friends by the end of 2.0.

After ARR and the events of the Crystal Tower raids specifically, Astra was a fucking MESS. Heavensward was essentially the peak of her self-destructive behavior, throwing herself headlong into danger and into the arms of whoever she deemed fit for a night (with the okay from Aethis, of course). This included Y’shtola.

Even if the both of them look back on that time with a bit of regret, as neither of them were entirely in the best headspace when it all unfolded, both Astra and Y’shtola understand the importance of opening up to each other more than they did in the past.

They’re close now, a certain desire to protect the other blossoming between them even if it largely goes unspoken. Y’shtola is often the one that reminds Astra of the importance of taking care of herself, the whole of Shadowbringers opening her eyes to the lengths Astra would go to protect and not worry her friends and loved ones, especially at the cost of her own health and safety. It frustrates her, but she understands where it comes from, many a conversation being had between them as if they’d always been close from the start. Fraught with a certain tension at times, closer than most would consider a simple friendship to be, but then again…a lot of things in Astra’s life are quite complicated. They’ve learned to live with it, never broaching beyond that unless they were both absolutely certain they needed more than just each other’s company at any point (this includes parts of shadowbringers. things were stressful).

Even in the face of Astra’s near-death in Endwalker, Y’shtola would always stay just close enough by her side as she recovered over those few moons, helping where she was needed and reminding Aethis and G’raha to not run themselves completely ragged in the face of it. She could’ve sworn she heard Astra call her Shtola in the wee hours of the morning at least once, beads of sweat on her brow and locked in the midst of a dream, most likely…whether or not she hallucinated it from stress, she’s never been quite certain.

In summary because I’ve been yapping long enough, Y’shtola holds Astra’s well-being in incredibly high regard and vice versa. They’re essentially ride-or-die for each other now, even if Y’shtola isn’t afraid to chastise Astra’s more reckless decisions.

[teatime6519]

Can imagine buying cringe couples items like matching socks and sweaters for you and Levi. You two laugh at how weird it is and wear them anyway. Then one day Levi plays along and buys matching couples tea cups. Instead of it being cringe though you see it as sweet and every morning you have your tea in your matching tea cups.

[whumpshaped]

copy pasted my drabbles again. were getting up there boys

[nostalgia-tblr]

lukewarm take but i blame all those "every oneshot shoved into a single work, showing up in every search forever more" compliations on people who talk about fics being "just a oneshot" and similar statements that imply anything less than novel-length is a silly, pointless piece of nonsense that does not deserve its own post with its own tags and its own summary.

[imperatorisaureinova]

Teeth sank into flesh, piercing bone. Snap, crunch, snap, crunch, snap, crunch. Almost melodic the sound echoed like a macarbe instrument trough the empty room.

A tongue swirled and twisted, tangling around a broken limb, pulling it towards a gaping maw, teeth clamping down. Snap, crunch, snap, crunch, snap, crunch.

Was it his maw? Was it his tongue, were those his teeth? Familiar yet so foreign, they were his yet they were not.

It tasted like nothing, it smelled like nothing, it was not flesh, but scale, it was not bone but wood, there was no beating hart, it was a stone. Snap, crunch, snap, crunch, snap crunch.

An eye glared at the golden mask, cracked, broken, the remains of a cape scattered about.

It was a failure he growled, it was a failure, the other echoed.

He, no, they, needed to make a new grimwalker.

[whump-queen]

🌹

oo more maya content

WIP Preview #7 (ask game)

From: The Boy in the Alleyway: A Nice Gesture (1)

It’d been a month now, and things in the apartment were getting worse. That ever-present knot in Claire’s stomach twisted impossibly tighter by the day.

The pet’s eyes were looking even more sunken lately, his cheeks more hollow. His injuries had healed, but she swore there were new bruises welling up in their place.

[next >>]

[orcelito]

Thinking about rereading Sentido before I reread ITNL

I peeked in the last chapter and I was like "damn ok this is actually kinda good"

[cheswirls]

updating fics list (not completely lmao) and probably it would be a good idea to compile all the oneshots i wrote directly on tumblr and port them to my ext harddrive. just in case

[astralis-is-typing]

Even though you don't post fics anymore I'll love your work forever bae <333

Jisung being the type of bf who'd find any opportunity to kiss your neck...don't get me wrong they start of innocent gradually turning sensual until his face is buried into the nape of your neck...hands holding onto the curve of ur waist like his life depends on it

"Sungie what do u think ur doing?"

A beat of silence...

"Expressing my love for u...?"

He'd giggle out, playfully pouting when he realises u've read through his actions