#fics for grimm

[the-artist-grimm]

Brainworm won't leave me, about angst of your Narilamb but on the other side of the coin.

So Imma just write about it even if I should be sleeping right now. Do what you wish.

Fate is irreversible. The Lamb would die a sacrifice, even the God of Death couldn't prevent it. Sure they had delayed it; allowed the Lamb to show the Bishop of Old that their fate was already written. But with it done, there's nothing stopping fate to strike once more.

The Lamb could feel it in the air, in the bones. Perhaps the crown had allowed them to feel the presence of an end. And theirs was soon to arrive.

Perhaps Narinder still had hope, that their weapon could return after their sacrifice. That the Lamb could be kept by his side and that of his kits. Yet the Lamb knew better than to rely on only hope.

The Lamb's heart was full, of love for who is now considered family to them. For Narinder, Aym and Baal. And for them, The Lamb would do it. Sacrificing their life for their freedom. For the kits to finally see the world the Lamb has told them so much about. For Narinder to feel the rain against their fur once more.

With a resolve of steel, the Lamb is ready, in an outfit they've carefully curated for their last moment. Perhaps it is full of old memories; inspired by any remaining traditions of the sheepfolk who will soon vanish with the Lamb. Maybe something akin to marriage; as they have accepted that they would never see the day of their own and that the freedom of their loves should be the happiest day of their life.

With a sad smile, the Lamb dedicate their death to the three person who fills their heart with love. Ripping it from their chest and crushing it; letting the large amount of devotion they had for their God, and the Red Crown, float back to its rightful owner. The Lamb swore they heard the screams of Aym and Baal, calling for the first time their Baba. They could feel a pang tug and their heart, even if no longer in their chest; never knowing before how much they longed for the both of them to see the Lamb like a parent.

Their weapon discarded, both kits rushed to the Lamb's side, begging, pleading for them to not leave; grasping at the Lamb's ever colder body.

Maybe in a moment of clarity, The One Who Waits sheds their gargantuan form for that of a more reasonable one. They are silent, whirlwind of thoughts and emotions flying through their head yet they chose to ignore most; going straight for the Lamb. Tears already flowing unbeknownst to him. Maybe they were the Crown's.

It's kinda funny, the Lamb never thought they would had been able to hold Narinder in their arms fully; yet even in this form he is as beautiful as the day they first met him. The Lamb smile softly at him, barely hearing him talk about promises to bring them back, cursing himself for his greed and his stubbornness, that he shouldn't had ignored his feelings when really the only thing he now desired was fading infront of him.

Maybe, just maybe, the Lamb can reach for a goodbye kiss. Not the one they had dreamed of, but it was their last chance before vanishing into the same ashes that covers the entirety of Narinder's realm; leaving now three black cat free, yet so cold and alone.

THIS IS AMAZING WHAT THE HECK. ALSO HOW ARE YOU IN MY HEAD (adding the angst art first in case people don't wanna read my lore dump lol)

Like Anthea WOULD have died had Narinder not let slip just how much he cared about them. He didn’t confess his love-he wasn't ready to do so just yet, but upon seeing the lamb break down in the ruins of their home village shortly before they'd started on Silk Cradle, seeing them finally let all the years of grief and anger and guilt take over and swear that no matter what they’d get him and the kits out-that while they couldn’t save their family they would save his even if that meant their death, in the ‘good’ ending sort of speak (which yeah has the betrayal but it leads both to grow and eventually be happy again), he tells them no-that freedom isn’t worth it without the lamb leaving the gateway alongside the twins and himself. He would not accept any outcome that didn't have them by his side.

Having spent their whole life giving up things for others, Narinder essentially saying he’d give up his freedom, the thing he wanted most, for them was what made the lamb want to try and have a future. Because here was someone who wanted Anthea by his side because he cared for them, and they realized they wanted that too. It's why in the good end Anthea starts weaving a courtship sash for Narinder, because while they didn't bet on his feelings being romantic, that admission was what made them realize they'd long fallen in love, and it was the one thing they could do to show just how much those words meant to them. A promise in return to be by his side as well in whatever way he'd have them. A promise to live.

Had Narinder held his tongue and not given into the impulse to say ‘no’, or had he instead told the lamb that their fate was to die, then Anthea would have laid their life down one last time. They might've realized they'd fallen in love sometime before that, but the desire to see their beloved and their children free would've outweigh the desire to be 'selfish' and want to be free with them.

5 chains bound the god they’d grown to love, and though 4 were linked to his siblings the 5th metaphysical one could only be unlocked by the sacrifice of a devout heart. It had been Shamura’s final failsafe. They knew that Narinder may be able to kill the bishops in his rage, but had counted on him never finding someone willing to sacrifice themselves like that.

But the main theme of Crimson Angel is expressing your feelings, and in the bad end, neither Anthea or Narinder learn to do so. Narinder keeps his love close to his chest, while Anthea loves the one way they know how-through sacrifice.

So yeah thank you for the fic and I shall now add it to the little metaphorical trinket box of ‘fanart/gifts to look at in awe'

[eahtheramblings]

Ok but like, imagine if Grimm tried to turn back time on legacy day to stop Raven from refusing to sign, only for another student to end up rebelling each time.  On the first time loop, He rewinds to an hour before legacy day and has the main snow white characters move to the back of the line with an excuse of saving the best for last or something of the sort. He assumes that since she’s a teen and everyone else will sign before her Raven will give into peer pressure and sign without a scene. But then halfway through Hunter, who wasn’t moved because he plays a more prevalent role in the red riding hood story, slams the Storybook of Legends shut and declares his unwillingness to live a life of violence and to live without the love of his life, thus causing the daughter of Cinderella who just signed the book to fling herself into his arms. Unexpected, but Grimm rationalizes that if he just moves Hunter to the back as well then it’ll all be fixed. Highschool relationships tend to be short, and legacy is more important after all. So on the second loop he moves all the snow white characters to the back, and sits in the crowd with the tension finally leaving his shoulders now that the main problem has been diffused. Except it hasn’t been diffused, because Briar Beauty watches her story play out in the book and in a fit of hysterics rips the binding in half once she sees a reflection of future self in the mirror, with tired eyes wearing clothes a century behind the time reminding her violently of her mother. And it just keeps happening. On one run through Cerise Hood tears her cloak off and reveals her true heritage as a wolf, causing pandemonium on the crowds. On another Darling Charming somehow takes a sword out of her long skirt, and severs her page from the book, declaring she refuses to be a damsel anymore. On one incredibly harrowing timeline everything was going fine until Kitty Cheshire refused to sign, giving him a nonchalant shrug and a taunt of “better rewind again” while her ever present smile haunted him. It gets to the point where he rewinds to a month prior to legacy day, spending that month keeping Ashlynn and Hunter away from each other, Bribing Kitty, separating Cerise and Ravens class schedule so that their friendship can’t form and pushing Darling to take on a damsels in distressing honors project with Apple in hopes his top student will rub off on her. In the end his efforts are fruitless however because somehow Apple is the one to rebel, apparently having fallen in love with Darling sometime in that month. just, the chaos if it all.

[grimm-writings]

Hi there!

I'd like to request something for the Laios party x reader where reader licks rocks like how archaeologists sometimes do to determine if it's a rock or a fossil. They just won't stop licking stuff. One moment you are just having a chat and walking side by side and the next reader grabs a rock and licks it. How would they react to their crush licking things that are certainly not food?

“stop licking the damn thing!”

…ft! touden party x gn! reader, platonic izutsumi & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, grimm doesn't know shit about rocks

…wc! 342 ; 400 ; 405 ; 344 ; 303 = 1794

…notes! this ask enraptured me i had to complete it posthaste. i’m not an expert in archeology or geology, but i hope you enjoy! 

Laios

“Ooh, can I have a lick?”

His ass does NOT give a fuck.

You could do anything and he wouldn’t be fazed I’m dead serious.

Honestly, once you do it in front of him he’d steer the conversation towards your study and how you figure out each time what is a rock and what is a fossil.

He may not fully take in all the information you give him.  This isn’t a topic he’s admittedly too interested in.

Honestly he’d probably take up some of your advice and see if he tastes monster he can figure out certain things about it.  Considering most monsters are made of raw meat, he has to be held back by your fellow partymates.

Someone (Chilchuck) usually has to encourage you to not “enable his behaviours.”

Overall, Laios simply does not judge!  He’s open and welcoming, and will even take part in your study with you!

(It’s an added bonus that he really likes how you explain things to him…)

Almost like an eager dog, Laios leans over your shoulder to look at the stone in your hand.  Prepared to explain yourself, like usual, you take a breath. “May I?” he interrupts you.  You still for a second.  Does he mean…? You slowly lift the rock up to the taller man behind you.  You don’t have any words as he leans down to give a small lick. You’re almost flattered from how open he is to it. At the taste, Laios’ eyebrows furrow, and he seems to seriously try to dissect the flavour.  He hums and tilts his head to you.  “Salty?” “Yeah,” you reply, slowly growing a bit more comfortable as you get an excuse to talk about your study, “so that means this rock might contain evaporite minerals.” Laios smiles slightly, leaning back to his full height to converse with you in a more casual position.  “Which are?” Your conversation continues, with Laios taking mental notes that he’ll hopefully remember for later next time he comes across a monster. Maybe if you find a gargoyle…

Marcille

Sorry she is so judgemental.

You are so lucky she likes you or else she’ll loudly give her opinion on how gross it is.

Well, that is until she learns the context as to why.

She’ll still be a little bit unsure, wondering if it’s proper conduct at all.

Marcille is trying her best, she really is, but you can’t just end a conversation so suddenly because you saw a rock, licked it in front of her, and said “hm… sedimentary.”

She wonders every day what she did to deserve such an… interesting taste in crushes. 

Though, like all things, give Marcille some time and she’ll warm up to your habits a bit more.  It may even be that she’ll be wondering about her study of the dungeon, running her hand along the wall, and thinking that she could call out to you to taste the wall and tell her the material.

She may not try out the method herself, but she’ll at least tolerate how you do it.  There’s a science behind it, after all…

Marcille stares as you lick your lips and hum to yourself.  Her mouth is a thin line and she’s trying her best not to come out with a disapproving comment. “Any… interesting findings…?”  She stiffly asks instead, gripping Ambrosia as if you’ll try licking her to figure out the levels of Mana too.  You can never be too cautious, even if she is only made out of wood. You smile at Marcille, either blissfully unaware of her austerity or pretending to be.  You hold up the stone in your hand and outline something with your finger.  “I think if we break this, we might find some fossils inside it.  You can keep it for your research if you want.” Marcille’s ears perk up slightly at that.  “For… me?”  She asks aloud, as if there’s anyone else who’d be interested in dungeon rocks.  As soon as she processes it she’s flushed and avoiding eye contact.  “I mean, this is your field of study, not mine!  I couldn’t possibly…” But you take her hands in your own, and place the fossil in her palm.  Marcille’s breath hitches when you take her fingers and fold them over the stone. “I trust you to come up with something.”  You beam at the elf, and she thinks that she might just have to take a chance in your skills.

Chilchuck

Not exactly open to it, not entirely critical about it either…

…But you will get a bit of a look whenever you do it.

He might be more the kind to make sure you aren’t outright doing it at stupid moments.  You better not get any ideas looking at those statues!

Sometimes you’ll be about to hold the stone up to your mouth, and right when your tongue is about to touch it, you’ll hear Chilchuck sigh a “don’t.”

Honestly this guy is treating you like a dog with something it shouldn’t have in its mouth.  Don’t worry, worrying and fretting is how he shows his love.

Even if he doesn’t like admitting to it…

If you try to explain how licking things helps in your study, Chil is inclined to raise his eyebrow and say that your field must be full of weirdos.

Then again, he’s the one who likes you so maybe he shouldn’t be too harsh…

He’s willing to let you do what you need to do but that doesn’t mean you’re free from his scathing commentary.

Crouched down, you analyse some rock in front of you.  It stands out a fair bit from most of the other geodes down here.  What could it be…? You lean in, your tongue grazing the stone slightly, and you lick.  The tip of your tongue familiarises itself with the taste.  Maybe metamorphic…? “Are you serious?”  You freeze at the sound of Chilchuck’s boyish voice.  On your hands and knees licking rocks isn’t exactly the ideal position to be judged in, even as you turn to look at the half-foot, arms crossed.  “Senshi is in the middle of cooking, no need to resort to eating rocks.” You roll your eyes.  You’re used to how Chilchuck treats your study at this point.  “I was just curious.” Chilchuck scoffs, walking up to pull you by the back of your collar up onto your feet again, which you do with some coercion.  “Yeah sure,” he says, “just wanna confirm you haven’t completely lost your marbles yet.” You look up at him, and squint.  Holding back a laugh, you mutter, “was that…?” “No, it wasn’t a dad joke,”  Chilchuck sighs, leaving you to your devices again.  “Just don’t do anything stupid when no one’s watching.” He hopes even as you giggle and confirm, you won’t notice the bright blush blooming on Chilchuck’s cheeks and tips of his ears.  How embarrassing…

Senshi

Also winning the dgaf war I fear.

He’d watch you lick some of the rocks you had picked out from your travels while resting.

It comes as no surprise that it then crosses his mind if the flavour changes when cooked, which he asks if he can do with some of your selection.

You can use your imagination on how Marcille and Chilchuck reacted when told that today’s dinner is … just rocks.

(Laios is disappointed that it isn’t any cool monster rocks.)

One delightful montage later, and ‘tis finished!  Since they are for your research, Senshi insists you have the first bite.

Crunch… and oh, such unique flavours!

You gush to Senshi about how this is a major breakthrough in how different minerals react to cooking conditions, and he gives you his observations too.

Honestly, just sort of wholesome bonding!

“Aye, this one cooked easily, while this one took plenty more time.” You nod eagerly as you watch Senshi point to two different stones.  “That’s because one is an igneous rock, which is magmatic.  The other is a sedimentary rock, which carries different minerals from lakes and oceans.  Separation in cooking must have resulted in different reactions!  I wonder how different metamorphic rocks would react…” As you mumble to yourself, Senshi happily continues his meal-making, occasionally responding back to you with hums and comments about what else each observed in his experimentation. Even when you had finished up your meal entirely, you thanked Senshi with the widest grin on your face.  He couldn’t help but be just a little flattered when you go on to joke that you should bring him home with you so he can help with your research. In return, Senshi listens to you, and hangs on your every word as you explain your findings to him.  Even if not too nutritious of a meal, the minerals from the rocks provide some calcium and other such buffs! And well…  If he can keep that happiness prolonged with his cooking, then he’s doing a very good job providing for you indeed!

Izutsumi

“Why are you eating rocks?  Looks gross.”

Make way for the #1 hater…

Izutsumi refuses to listen to any such rationalities you make about your study or why you lick rocks (even though she’s the one who asked), she’s still finding it icky and weird.

You’d have to fight fire with fire when it comes to her, you’ll question why she does some habits she does in return – such as licking her hand.

She’ll look at you like you’re stupid, before telling you that it’s a way for her to clean herself and notice if there’s anything caught in her fur.

“Ah, so like how I would lick rocks to identify anything embedded in them too!”

…How dare you try to rationalise yourself with her own logic, heathen.

Jail for reader.  Jail for 1000 years.

She’s not one to so readily accept other people’s weird quirks, but eventually she has to find that she’ll look stupid if she doesn’t…  It’s a bit of a dirty scheme, but it works.

“Come on, Izu, just give it a try!  I promise it just tastes like water.” “What kinda water?!”  She shoots back. You pause.  “W…Water?” This is how the argument between whether or not water has a flavour comes to be.  Izutsumi insists that some water tastes icky while others taste nice.  You have to explain that this pure water simply doesn’t have a taste.  She doesn’t believe you. In fact, Izutsumi makes you give the sedimentary stone another taste before affirming, it just tastes like water.  She’s about to grab your shoulders and shake you.  What kind of water?! It takes plenty of encouragement and an immediate failsafe orange juice Senshi squeezed out for her to ‘get rid of’ the taste when you get Izutsumi to taste the stone. She still hasn’t forgiven you… 

[speaking-riddlish]

Thinking about how Riddlish is handled in cannon and in fics. I've seen people just put random things that happen to ryhm anytime they want someone to be speaking Riddlish and it's like, a minor pet peeve of mine? But every time we see Riddlish spoken in cannon, it kind of makes sense in a way? Like, if you think about what is said, and try to piece together any symbolism based on context, you can kind of understand what they're saying. Like Maddie said, "Riddlish is not an exact language". Putting together the metaphor and symbolism gives you the general idea of what they're getting across. And whenever a fic does this well, it's like an instant favorite.

Let's look at and dicect some cannon examples (I've always kind of found these facinating):

"Feathers and Friends, together alone!"

"Feathers" could refer to Raven, since she's named after a bird. She also has feathers fairly prominent in her character design, so it'd make sense for Giles to say this even though he doesn't know her name yet.

"and Friends" probably refers to Maddie, since she's known him for a while and is presumably his friend. It could also refer to their friendship, and maybe even be a way of including Raven in.

"together, alone" They're here with him, joining him in his solitude.

Putting it all together we get "Raven and Maddie, you're here! You came to visit me!" Which lines up pretty well with Maddie's translation of "he says it's nice to have us here!"

"Can a musical chair change its tone, when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?"

"Can a musical chair change it's tone" The music in musical chairs is integral to the game, yet the song played does not come from the chair, but from the people playing. The tone of a musical chair is something fundamental about itself, and also something imposed by something outside itself. Can it change? Can something change something about itself that someone else has decided is fundamental?

"When the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?" A tablet of granite inscribed with something is literally that thing being written in stone, another reference to destiny and inevitability. And what's written on that stone is a bone, is death. Death is what is written in stone. Death is supposedly inevitable here.

From Raven's tone and terrified body language when asking Maddie to translate for her, it's fairly clear that the thing that wants to change is referring to Raven.

Putting it all together we get "Can Raven change from what others have said she's supposed to be, or is death the inevitable consequence of that like we've been told it is?" Which lines up pretty well with what Maddie was asked to translate: "What'll happen to me if I don't sign the book, am I really gonna disapear?"

"The king that sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies"

"pages of sky" is in reference to the book, and maybe the fairytales themselves. The sky is often used to symbolically reference heaven and the divine. The book, determining people's destinies, fits fairly well into that category. It's almost like he's referring to the book as being from above.

"The king that sings with pages of sky" would then be Headmaster Grim. He's in a position of authority over the students like a king is to his subjects. He "sings with" the book/the stories with his constant insistence that people must sign the book and follow their stories, speaking in unison with them.

"fears too much" this part is fairly clear, Milton's paranoid. The consequences he thinks are inevitable aren't as inevitable as he claims.

"the dawn that rises with" would mean something like "the consequences of" or "the fallout from". Then there's one of two ways the rest could be. "lies" could refer to that which is contrary to what the stories say will happen. If you take the stories as "truth" then changing the stories would be "lies". Or, "rises with lies" could mean the consequences coming from Milton's lies being brought to light. The dawn rises as Milton's lies rise.

Yet the whole thing sounds rather foreboding, giving the impression that something is seriously wrong.

Bringing it all together, we either get "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's paranoid about what'll happen if you don't. But those fears are unfounded. Also something is very wrong." or "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's afraid of what will happen when people find out why you don't need to (and its emplied that that reason is something very bad)" This lines up fairly well with Maddie's translation of "There's something wrong with the book, and if you don't sign, your story will continue... I think". I like the touch that Maddie wasn't as confident in this translation, since the last phrase is more ambiguous. It's not really clear how the foreboding tone integrates into the message without more context than Maddie has, so Maddie doesn't really know what it means.

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers. But the cage holds both, to die and to wither."

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers." The baby bird and the snake are two very different creatures, they move and interact with the world in two totally different ways. Most people also would look more favorably on the baby bird than on the snake.

"but the cage holds both, to die and to wither." the cage doesn't care what is inside of it, it will indiscriminately hold them both captive. The things that make the baby bird different from the snake, and the adorable charms of the baby bird will not free the baby bird from the cage, nor will they protect the baby bird from the grisly fate that awaits it in the cage.

The context is also relevant, since she's talking to Alastair and Bunny, two of her subjects who have just been arrested, but also two of her daughter's friends.

Putting this all together we get "Yes, you enjoy privileges that others do not have, but my affection for you will not compromise my judgement. You are not above the law. I am not above punishing you like I would anynother citizen." While we don't have a cannon translation to compare this to, it seems to make sense. Its immediately followed up with her letting them off with a warning, and despite this interaction, Bunny later tells Lizzie that her mom really is a good queen, but that the curse has stressed her out. I think the Queen of Hearts probably made exploring illegal to protect people from the curse. If she really is a good queen, then this type of objectivity ("I don't care if you're my daughter's friends, crime is crime") would make total sense.

[buckylovinglokivariant]

Casual (pt. 2) >> Johnny Storm

pairing: johnny storm x popstar!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k

summary: Johnny always meant to keep it casual with you but unfortunately for him, he wasn't so good at sticking to his word this time.

warnings: reader gets dangled off the empire state building but i think that's it-

a/n: @fwskullz asked me to write a part two so here it is! sorry it took so long, i did in fact move to college-

read part 1 here!

“So I really messed up.”

Even though the concert had finished a few minutes ago, Johnny’s eyes were still glued to where you were just performing center-stage.

“No kiddin’, Bic-Head,” Ben chuckled. “I ain’t never seen any of your exes so ticked off ‘atcha. And you’ve had a lot–and I mean a lot–.”

“Thank you, Ben,” Johnny growled, whirling around to face the other man. “We get the point!”

“I don’t know how you’re going to get out of this one, Johnny,” Suzie winced. “She looked really upset with you.”

“I didn’t even know the two of you broke up,” Reed blinked, always the one out of the loop.

“Technically we were never really together,” Johnny halfheartedly defended himself.

“Johnny,” Sue cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “She wrote a song about you called ‘Casual’. I think it’s safe to say that’s precisely what she’s mad about.”

Johnny groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“I’d better go talk to her, huh?”

Ben clapped him on the shoulder with mock sympathy, briefly knocking him off-balance.

“Yeah kid, I think you’d better.”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were backstage in your dressing room after the show, seated in front of the vanity mirror as you brushed out your hair, when there was a knock on your door.

“Come in!” You called in reply, putting your brush down nonchalantly as you were used to these sorts of various intrusions preceding and following a show.

You watched the door through its reflection in the mirror and leapt from your seat when you saw the first person through the door.

“Sue!” You cried happily, dashing over to wrap her in your arms. “I didn’t think you were coming!”

It was sort of true. You really didn’t think she was coming, but only because you’d forgotten that you’d invited her in the first place. As you held her in your arms, the day you delivered the tickets to her began to trickle back into your memory. It must have been at least four or five months ago now but even still, you can’t believe you forgot. It wasn’t until you heard the door shut that it finally occurred to you: if she was here, then most likely so was–.

Your eyes flew open over Sue’s shoulder and you immediately locked eyes with the blond man leaning against the doorframe, flanked by Sue’s boyfriend Reed and his best friend Ben. You gave Johnny a pointed sneer as you pulled away from Sue, stepping around her to first embrace Reed and then completely ignore Johnny as you sidestepped him to plant a kiss on Ben’s cheek.

“What, no greeting for an old flame?” Johnny opened his arms toward you.

You turned, considering him for a moment before plastering on a fake smile and approaching him slowly. Instead of the warm embrace he expected though, as soon as you got close enough you greeted him with a hearty slap across the face.

“Thought that when I told you to go to hell, the ‘and stay there’ was implied,” you snarled.

“Okay, that’s fair,” Johnny cringed, rubbing his cheek which was now burning red. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve worse than that but seeing as your family’s here, consider it a compromise.”

You turned to the other three who were watching you with a combination of shock and awe and smiled, gesturing at the seating around the coffee table at the center of the room.

“Please, sit! It’s really been too long since I’ve seen you three.”

You led the way, occupying a plush armchair while the other three squeezed onto the couch across from it. Johnny, who you were very purposefully not looking at, hovered somewhere back across the room, investigating the space as you spoke.

“So what mayhem have you three been getting into across the galaxy?” You smiled conspiratorially.

“Oh you know,” Sue waved you off. “New planets, weird plants, alien races—the usual. You on the other hand have been on a world tour! I want to hear about that.”

“Oh gosh,” you giggled, allowing yourself for the first time in months to have missed this—missed them. “Wow um, performing a lot, of course. Partying at night, writing on the rare occasion I have downtime. Speaking of, what did you guys think of that new song?”

“Personally, I loved it,” Ben chimed in immediately, smirking patronizingly at Johnny. “I mean, that last part—“

“The outro?” You suggested.

“Yeah, that!” Ben agreed enthusiastically. “Absolutely brutal. I’m sure whoever you wrote it about feels real sorry now.”

“Thank you, Ben,” you replied earnestly. “Even if he didn’t care about me before, I’m sure he does now.”

“I always cared about you!” Johnny piped up indignantly from the corner.

“Did you guys hear something?” You asked the three sitting across from you. “Must have been the wind.”

“That’s really mature, you know that?” Johnny snarked.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you!” You snorted. “Now please keep it down over there—I’m trying to catch up with the members of your family who aren’t lying, manipulative pieces of shit.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Susan stood up, Reed and Ben following suit.

“Wait, Sue, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “I was out of line, just—.”

“I didn’t say he didn’t deserve it,” Sue sighed, crossing to your side of the table and kneeling to rest your hands in hers. “Look, I’m not sure what happened between you two and I’m not going to pretend I do. Whatever you’re feeling is valid and I have no doubt it’s probably justified too. But just… do me a favor and hear him out, okay? He’s a boy and he’s stupid but he has a good heart. Whatever happened, he feels awful about it and he wants to fix it. Just give him a chance to explain himself, please?”

You glanced over Sue’s head to where Johnny was watching the exchange. When he saw you looking, he pressed his hands together and mouthed ‘Please?’. As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t deny the flicker of affection that sparked in your chest.

“Fine,” you conceded, standing to open the door for Sue, Reed, and Ben. “You get five minutes and then I’m either letting you three back in or kicking you all out.”

They followed you to the door and out, Ben first, then Reed, and then Sue after she stopped to hug Johnny and whisper in his ear: “You're welcome. Don't mess this up.” When they were finally out the door, all three gave Johnny various pointed looks as you shut it behind you, leaning against it with your arms crossed and eyebrows raised in reluctant anticipation.

“Look, I was an idiot—I am an idiot,” he opened.

“This is a surprise to absolutely no one,” you quipped. “Go on.”

Johnny sighed, running a nervous hand through his blond curls.

“I didn’t realize you were the best thing in my life until you were gone.”

“I broke things off with you months ago, Johnny. Why here, why now? You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” He asked genuinely.

“God dammit, Johnny, you could have tried!” You forced down the lump in your throat. “As someone who stopped seeing you because I didn’t feel wanted, you’re not doing a great job of convincing me I was wrong about you.”

Johnny hung his head, knowing you were right. Hell, he didn’t realize he missed you until a couple of hours ago—how was he going to convince you he really wanted you back? But the next thing you said gave him an idea that would either make or break your relationship depending on how well he stuck to his word.

“I mean, how would you even start a relationship with me right now, Johnny?” You thought out loud. “I’m on tour, I’m in a new city every day. And it’s not exactly like you can drop everything and follow me around given your line of work.”

“I have an idea.”

You looked very much like you didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him, but you looked intrigued too. You nodded, urging him to continue.

“I’ll wait for you.”

You barked out a disbelieving laugh.

“You’re kidding, right? Johnny, I’m on tour for the next three months. You’re telling me you’re not going to see a single girl that whole time?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. You think I can’t do it?”

“No, Johnny, full offense but I really don’t think you can.”

“So I’ll prove you wrong. And when I do, you’ll owe me a date.”

You squinted your eyes at him, not believing him at all but willing to let him at least try.

“Fine,” you sighed. “If you can wait for me—and I mean really wait, I don’t wanna see you with another girl in the tabloids or on Instagram or anywhere—then I promise to go on one date with you. No promises after that.”

“Yes!”

He pumped his fist and you shook your head exasperatedly, extending a hand for him to shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Lowell Spencer.”

“In the spirit of apologies, I’m going to let that slide.”

“How kind of you.”

You shook on it.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

If you had known three months ago that your deal with Johnny would end in you being dangled off the Empire State Building by New York’s villain-of-the-week, you might have reconsidered your decision. You hadn’t even been in New York when you woke up that morning—you’d been preparing for the final performance of your tour in Los Angeles. Unfortunately for you though, distance is nothing to an alien who can create portals out of thin air, and thus instead of celebrating the final night of your tour with thousands of your adoring fans, some space freakazoid was threatening your life in front of millions of people on live television.

You didn’t even know what the guy wanted. He’d been monologuing obnoxiously at you since he yanked you from your dressing room and through the portal to New York but apparently there weren’t any public speaking classes in space because you had absolutely no clue what he was on about. Odds are, he probably wanted to take over the city or something but whatever it was, you only hoped that Johnny would figure it out in time. The man (if you could even call it that… what were aliens’ stances on gender?) holding you hostage had made it very clear that you were the bargaining chip for Johnny specifically. As it were currently though, the flamebrain in question was nowhere to be found. Three of the four were gathered high up in the air on one of Sue’s invisible forcefield things but it was evident that wherever Johnny was, he was too preoccupied to come save your life. Figures.

You couldn’t really hear much over the combination of blood pumping in your ears and the wind rushing by but from what you could see, it appeared as though everyone around you was doing an awful lot of talking as opposed to saving like you were hoping for. Thinking on it though, given that you were over a thousand feet in the air, how much saving could the other three really do without Johnny? It wasn’t like any of them could fly. Did this mean you were doomed? Your train of thought seemed to be corroborated by the sudden rrrrrrrip of the back of your bodysuit that the villain was suspending you by. The tear didn’t rip through the costume completely but you squeaked pathetically as the separating fabric dropped you closer to your impending doom a thousand feet below.

Realistically, you realized you should have alerted the Three to your escalating problem but in the adrenaline of the moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth, let alone make any voluntary noise or coherent commentary. How did they (and Johnny) do this every day? Performing for crowds of thousands was a walk in the park compared to this. This was horrible. If you made it through this, you were going to tell all four of them how grateful you were for the sacrifices they all made on their mental health.

Once again, your train of thought was interrupted by a bigger, louder rrrrrrriiiip as the costume tore some more. You tried harder to say something, anything but looking down and seeing the city over a thousand feet below you stole your breath in a not-so-pleasant way that had you both choking and hyperventilating at the same time. You managed to tear your eyes away from the ground and over to the Fantastic Three-Fourths but by the time that happened, you were only able to squeak out a “Help” before your costume split clean in half and you were falling backwards through the New York City skyline.

If anyone were to ask you, you would most definitely not recommend freefall. Why anyone would do this willingly was beyond you. If it wasn’t before, skydiving was definitely off your bucket list now. Though you guessed that maybe it was different when you chose it as opposed to having it thrust upon you in the form of some deranged, costume-wearing alien. Forget gratitude, you thought. I probably won’t live through this but if I do, I’m going to give Johnny a real piece of my mind. 

When you asked Johnny about it later, the thing he said haunted him the most in the nights that followed was the sound of your screams as he pushed his flames to grow hotter, stronger, begging them to help him gather velocity and just please god get to her in time—. You don’t remember screaming. All you remember is the force of the wind against your back and the brightness of the sky above as you plummeted rapidly toward the concrete below. It happened in the blink of an eye—one moment you were certain the puffy clouds above would be the last thing you’d ever see, and the next, your vision was bombarded with red hot flames and your stomach swooped as you were swiftly grabbed around the waist as Johnny changed direction.

He flew you both around the corner so the Empire State was out of sight before making your descent back onto solid ground. You swayed on your feet for a moment, Johnny’s arms shooting out to catch you when your knees inevitably buckled. He pulled you in even closer to him, tucking your head securely into his chest, and you allowed it for a beat as you caught your breath before suddenly tearing yourself from his grasp and pounding your fists against his chest.

“Where the hell were you!” You seethed. “I almost died, Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm!”

“I know, I know,” he tried to take hold of your wrists, gently caressing them with his thumbs, but you ripped them away to continue beating your fists against his chest.

“Three months ago, you said you would wait for me but here we are three months later and you couldn’t care less that I was being dangled over the edge of the freakin’ Empire State Building—!”

“I was in LA,” he defended as you continued talking over him.

“—So much for second chances, huh? What’s your excuse this time? You were away visiting your hot model friend in Ibiza?”

“I was in LA!” He repeated louder this time, trapping your face between both of his abnormally warm hands and tilting it to face him.

You stopped short, taking in a few breaths as your mind struggled to catch up with his claim.

“What the hell do you mean, you were in LA?” You squinted at him in suspicion. “I thought superheroes didn’t take vacations, what were you doing in LA of all places?”

“Waiting for you to perform,” his eyes stared into yours with a devotion so intense you almost didn't believe you were looking at the real Johnny.

“What?” You blinked in disbelief. “Johnny, if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking, sweetheart.”

The corners of his lips tilted up nervously, self-consciously. You didn’t think he was capable of it, but there he was. Your eyes flickered rapidly between his, trying to catch him out in a lie, but you couldn’t find one. You couldn’t help it—you kissed him. And damn, if it didn’t feel good after over a year of angst and pining that you thought would never be requited. After a moment of letting your mind run away from you, you pulled away from him, resting your hands over his pounding heart and your forehead against his.

“Wait,” you panted. “You really haven’t seen any other girls in the last three months?”

“Haven’t had to when I knew I had you waiting for me.”

He went back in for another kiss but you used the leverage of your hands on his chest to hold him away from you.

“Ah-ah-ah, not so fast, you temptress.”

He chuckled darkly, eyes fluttering lustfully between your eyes and your lips.

“You swear you haven’t seen any other girls since I last saw you,” you confirmed.

“Not one,” he squeezed your hip affectionately. “I swear it.”

You couldn’t help it any longer. You sunk your fingers into his golden curls and pulled him back to your lips, smiling when you felt how he melted against you. Unfortunately for you though, this wasn’t the time for your happy reunion. Johnny frowned and looked adorably confused when you pulled away again.

“What did I do now?”

You giggled, giving him another peck for the road before gently pushing him away.

“You gotta go save the world, Flamebrain,” you backed away with a flirty wink. “I’ll be waiting.”

And even through all your hardships, as Johnny flamed on and flew back toward New York’s newest resident space loser, you couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

[the-grimm-writer]

I went to send you some thirsty ideas and my internet cut out 😩 not the universe trying to stop this…!! There are so many possibilities- like you were just talking about JJK and there’s some SINFULLY lovely characters there- Nanami with his perfect husband look and act just to have his cute little wife tied down to his bed, open and waiting for him to get home and that’s why he rushes after clocking out… gojo who wants you so overstimulated you can’t even hope to try to escape even if you want to- try running away while in his domain baby, let’s see how far you get… geto running his freakish little cult, one day spotting you and thinking you look so perfectly innocent… so corruptable, but you just won’t give into him no matter how nice he is, so what other choice does he have but to snatch you away???

There’s also the cute little Halloween killer, who gets away with everything including murder all because of the holiday. People are so stupid, absolutely blind to his crimes even when he’s still dripping with his last victim all because he matches the season- and unfortunately you’re no exception to that. You blindly approach him ooing and awwing his “costume” and praising his stature because he’s SO big and SO tall- he suits a slasher costume perfectly! You ask to take a selfie with him and he drags you in close, taking advantage of the closeness to press himself against you while you blush and squirm and struggle to take the photo. He watches you scamper away after, with a little wave. Unfortunately with that photo you won’t be seeing the last of him any time soon, but he’ll let you have your fun for now.

Dw I get it I'm moving so the universe is trying to stop me to. 😭

But we shall never!

.

Gojo would honestly be such a freaky yandere just because of how chill he is while being an absolute powerhouse. Like just him showing a glimpse of his domain expansion would have his poor darling too shaken up to even try and get away from him 🥺

And Geto running a cult is honestly so underrated, like the POTENTIAL. How he thinks you're the perfect match for him and uses all of his connections to keep you stuck with him now matter how much you try and run away there's no escaping. and don't get me started on the breeding kink he has (it's canon he told me). How he's determined that together you'll have the perfect children that'll fix everything. <3

.

Also kinda unrelated but the going up to the slasher and taking a selfie with him reminds me of the scene in Terrifier where that girl goes up to Art and sits on his lap and takes a selfie with him lmao.

But instead of getting brutally murdered later on, I like the idea of the slasher just being totally entranced by the way you blush and nervously giggle when he pulls you in close. How you thanked him and then immediately rushed away afterward like you're a shy school girl that just confessed to her crush.

He can't help but be fascinated. Such a sweet, innocent looking thing like you was obviously attracted to a big, scary man like him. And unfortunately for you that captures his attention. You're in for a long night when he sees you go back over to your friends.

You have a big smile on your face as you show them the picture and walk away with them, nobody realizing you're being followed. And he wonders how long that pretty smile of yours will last once he has you all to himself. <3

[paper-beats-writers-block]

For a fanfic to be considered Snowbaz it must include:

“Snow,” “You called me Simon before”

“And then he kisses me”

some form or iteration of “Baz… you’re-you’re wearing jeans”

mention of Simon’s love of butter/scones

[pato-roldnart]

a little something for @orange-peony fic Hiding

I can’t get enough of them  🥺 🥺  ❤️❤️

Go read this cute fic here! 

[voidsiblings]

Ordered a commission from my sister of @grollow's Grimm (aka Firefly) from Red Sky At Morning! (posted here with permission)

After having his heart severed from his body by his sister in an act of treachery, the god of Nightmares attempts to make a place for himself in the waking world and among cultures that he's never understood. Along the way, kingdoms rise and fall, and one god learns what the others of his kind have never truly understood--what it means to truly be mortal. Witness the birth of the Grimm Troupe.

[anonymous-dentist]

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away there lived a brother and a sister in a hollow tree in the forest. The brother was older, and so he took to working to provide for himself and his sister, much to the sister's annoyance.

Every day, the brother would leave his tree to sell leaves in the market. Every day, he would come home with half a penny, and he and his sister could afford rice for dinner.

One day, the brother's business was interrupted by a rather rude customer: a little brown tabby cat who stole his leaves away like the wind!

"Come back here, you mangy cat!" the brother shouted, and he ran after the cat, waving his stick around like a sword.

(For, you see, the brother dreamed of being a knight in the service of the Eternal King so as to provide for his sister better. He did not yet know that doing so would never be possible for one like him.)

He chased the cat, but he lost it in the crowd. Returning to his corner of the market, he discovered that his leaves had all been blown away in the commotion, leaving him with not even half a penny for his day's work. He and his sister went without supper, and they slept in the cold.

The next day, the brother set up in his corner with a fresh load of leaves.

As had happened the day before, he was rudely interrupted by the cat. It stole his leaves away, he chased it, he returned home with nothing.

"I need to kill that cat," he told his sister.

"No!" she exclaimed.

She slapped him. He slapped her back. The man outside watched.

"Bring that cat home," the sister instructed. "Tell it we have all the leaves it could ever want here."

The brother and his sister went without supper for a second day, and they slept in the cold.

The next day, the brother remembered what his sister had told him. When the cat appeared, he told it, "If you come home with me this afternoon, you'll have all the leaves you could ever want."

The cat listened, ears twitching, and it waited. The brother went home with a half-penny, and he and his sister ate rice for supper, the cat played with the leaves in the forest, and the man outside chose.

The next day at the market, the brother set up his leaves, and the cat stayed with him all the while.

Towards the end of the day, the king came to the market with his royal guard. The brother watched with wide eyes, imagining himself in such fancy armor and with the pay to match.

"Be warned!" the king said. "Be wary of going into the woods! There is a bear, and I would rather not any of my perfect citizens be eaten."

That night, the brother went home with a half-penny for his sister, and they had rice for supper.

"A bear?" the sister asked. "I hate bears."

"I don't know," the brother replied. "I think they're cool. Even if they do eat annoying little girls."

He growled, and he chased his sister around the room, and the man outside knocked at the door. But the children in all their merriment heard nothing.

But the cat did.

The next day, the brother left for the market with his leaves and his cat. But the cat had its eyes wide open, searching the woods.

"Stop being so paranoid," the brother said. He tapped the cat on the head annoyedly. "Bears don't eat cats."

"No, but they do eat little boys," said the man, sliding up next to the brother. "I would be careful, if I were you."

The brother was naturally frightened, but he was also a knight in training. Basically. So he stood up straight, and he looked the man in the eye, and he said, "Don't worry, I'm not scared!"

"Good," said the man. "There isn't anything to be scared of."

The cat hissed. The brother grumbled and kicked at it.

"Isn't he your friend?" the man asked.

"No," replied the brother. "I don't like animals. Especially cats."

"Oh, well that's good," said the man. "Because I would like to buy you."

He was looking at the cat, and so the brother assumed that he was intending to buy the cat. The annoying, annoying cat.

So the brother grinned and nodded. "Okay! I need to go to work now, but you can come to my house tonight to get it!"

"That sounds fair," said the man. He extended a hand, and the brother took it. "I will see you tonight."

The brother blinked, and then the man was gone. The cat, unfortunately, remained.

The brother went to the market, he sold his leaves, and he went home with one half-penny. He and his sister had rice for supper, and he didn't tell her a thing about the man in the woods or the cat. She liked the cat, and he didn't want to deal with another argument when they would be getting enough money out of the exchange for rice and beans for supper.

At midnight, as the sister slept, the brother heard a knock-knock-knock at the door. Outside was the man, and next to him was a large cage.

"In here, please," the man said.

The brother tried to usher the cat in, but it wouldn't get close to the man or his cage. So, angrily, he picked the cat up and crawled into the cage with it.

The cage's door slammed shut behind him.

"Well, that's convenient," said the man. He crouched in front of the cage, and it was only now that the brother noticed the pure black of his eyes and the unnatural stretch of his smile. "I was thinking an owl, but a cat will do just as well."

It was the brother's first cell, and what an important word that would be for him in the future.

But, for now, he held his cat close to his chest, and he cried as the world went dark around him.

The next morning, the sister woke up to her brother missing and a bag of gold coins on the bed he used to lay in.

[letraspal]

Our birthdays are just the celebration of all the years that came before and the welcoming of a new one. Happy Birthday Baz Pitch!

(And happy birthday to the woman who brought him to us, @rainbowrowell)

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

My Father's Eyes

The first chapter of the fic is finally up! It's just over 20 000 words and it's my first Spider-Man fanfic.

[starfall-spirit]

Smoke and Mirrors

@officialfeysandweek Day 2: Mirrors

Read on Ao3 // Dark Feysand Masterlist // Feysand Week Masterlist

Fic Cover //🎨: @amnevitahdrawsstuff

Summary: Curious as to how Feyre vanishes from her locked room night after night, her father promises the choice of a bride to whoever can piece it together. The problem, with each night of dancing she falls deeper into the thrall of the Court of Nightmares—and the High King has never been one to share.

TW: Dark!Rhys, mind control, non-con, murder, and further manipulation in later chapters. The dove is dead, my friends. Read at your own discretion.

“There was once upon a time a King who had twelve daughters, each one more beautiful than the other. They all slept together in one chamber, in which their beds stood side by side, and every night when they were in them the King locked the door and bolted it. But in the morning when he unlocked the door, he saw that their shoes were worn out with dancing and no one could find out how that had come to pass.”

~The Shoes That Were Danced To Pieces, The Brothers Grimm

Chapter I

Feyre

“What is that?”

Feyre looked back at Elain. “My new mirror. Do you like it?”

“It’s… a statement piece.”

“It’s hideous,” Nesta scoffed from the doorway. “Not to mention ancient. It doesn’t even suit your room.”

“Yes, well, that’s because mother decorated my room, isn’t it?” Feyre snipped back, still slightly bitter even after enduring the bright color scheme for years now. She finished straightening the oddly shaped mirror over her dresser with a slight smirk, one finger following the curve of the border.. “I think it adds character.”

“I think it looks like something out of the Court of Nightmares.” Feyre and Elain turned to their sister in confusion. “You’ve never heard the tale?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a ridiculous story meant to make children behave. In the Court of Nightmares there lives an evil High Lord who demands his sycophants snatch up children who are a terror to their families. The same is said for women who don’t save themselves for their husbands.”

Feyre scrunched her nose, exhausted with the obsession the men in their family’s circle seemed to share regarding marriage. Their father did enough to ensure that, locking them in their rooms the moment the sun set each night. The things she’d give to see a starry sky for once in her life. She didn’t see what use their astronomy lessons were when they’d never seen a clear night sky.  Perhaps that would change with their social debut. She wasn’t thrilled with the concept, but their mother had finally convinced their father that the three of them would soon be deemed too old to be marriageable, particularly Nesta, who would turn twenty-five that spring.

She let herself wonder for just a moment if her husband would let her have more freedom when she was caring for their home or if he would be as fond of the tight leash her father kept. Hope only stretched so far when it came to the “gentlemen” of high society. 

Before she could let her imagination unfold on the subject the door swung open without warning, their mother standing in the doorway with her seemingly permanent scowl in place. “Girls, why is it that I still see three dresses where the seamstress left them this morning rather than on your bodies. Feyre,” she snapped. “My gods, you haven’t even bathed! I should have known allowing you to go to the market this afternoon was a mistake. One I won’t be repeating. I—What is that ghastly thing?”

“A mirror, Mother.” Though she itched to make some quip about the woman’s narcissism, she managed to hold her tongue. “You said I could select something of my choosing for my birthday, did you not?”

Eyes narrowing, she huffed. “We will discuss its removal later. Go,” she ordered. “I want you bathed and dressed in half an hour. Your maid will bring your gown.” 

Muttering something incoherent, she ushered Elain and Nesta from the room. Alis was there a moment later with a wry glint in her eye and a garment bag in hand. “At least the dress will suit your coloring this time.”

“Yes,” Feyre murmured, drawing the gauzy gown from its protective bag. “At least there’s that.” 

It was lovely. Though she loathed to admit her mother had decent taste in anything, formal wear was her strong suit. It seemed Feyre’s debut was important enough to consider colors that wouldn’t leave her looking washed out. The faster she found a husband, she supposed, the faster she would be his burden rather than her parents’. An odd wife instead of an odd child. 

“A home of her own to care for and a taste of motherhood will give her a dose of reality,” she’d once overheard. “She’ll learn her purpose one way or another.”

She was content enough to follow her mother’s command, bathing quickly and donning the dusk blue dress just in time for Alis to see to her hair and cosmetics before her mother returned, a sharp nod the only thing resembling praise that she’d earned. “Good enough. Shoes, then join your sisters in the hall.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She glanced over her shoulder to the back of the room, trying to catch a glimpse of herself before going downstairs for the evening, gasping softly at what peered back at her. “What is it?”

“I—nothing,” she claimed, gathering her cashmere shawl. “I’m ready.” But even as she shook off the unease that had settled over her, she couldn’t erase what the mirror had shown her. An obsidian throne crowned by twin serpents she knew would be deadly if given life, and seated on it an otherworldly male wreathed in shadows of his own design. In that fleeting moment she couldn’t make out much of his face. Only a pair of violet eyes that seemed capable of peering into her very soul. The feeling followed her until she greeted the winter sun.

Ushered into their family carriage, Feyre barely concealed her huff when their mother began rattling off orders for the evening party. Hearing it all before, it took an impressive effort to actually pay attention. 

How the woman could manage to talk through a forty minute carriage ride was beyond her, but she and her sisters didn’t have a moment to get a word in even if they’d wished to. “And most importantly, you are never to reject an invitation to dance. Gods know each of you need every opportunity you can get.”

The door swung open, the straight-backed footman offering a hand to help each of them down, as their father was not in attendance this evening.

“Smiles, girls.”

~~~~~

Feyre had never been so thrilled to hear her door lock behind Alis as she was that evening. After playing the games of the court for hours, all she wanted was a bit of quiet, even from her dear confidant. To think, the next ball they’d been invited to was only days away, hosted by the very man who seemed so keen on getting to know her. Tamlin certainly didn’t seem like the worst suitor, but there still seemed to be something missing.

Unless she was being a foolish romantic, hoping for a love match.

“Gods,” she groaned, moving to her vanity to remove her makeup. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Long day?”

She shrieked at the silken male voice that filled the room, frantically searching the space for someone who may have hidden in the curtains or under the bed before she was shut in for the night. Cauldron, she was in nothing more than a nightgown and a man was in her room. “Relax, darling. I won’t hurt you.”

“Wh-who are you?” Perhaps if she locked herself in the bathroom she’d be safe, if confined. 

“Now, Feyre, we’ve met already, haven’t we?” She froze, trying to place the voice without a face to show for it. She had never really believed in magic, but now… “I’ve seen your dreams, learned your wishes. I could grant them too.” 

Slowly the pieces began to fit together. The voice with no body, the throne in the mirror, the vendor’s hesitation to sell to her that morning—his superstitions she’d brushed away. “It’s cursed, girl. Every time I try to throw it out it ends up right back in my stall, I swear! Tomorrow morning you’ll think I’ve stolen it from you.”

“I was waiting for the right buyer to claim it,” the voice claimed. “I’ve been looking for you for a very long time, darling.” She could hardly breathe—felt dizzy in her rising panic. “Look at me, Feyre. Look in the mirror.”

Slowly turning, her eyes locked with his. There were no shadows this time, leaving his face and body unobscured. She realized he was likely the most beautiful man she’d ever seen—not that she had much experience with grown men beyond those present at this evening’s ball. But a more important note to make was not how he compared to human men, but to those of his own kind. Because while the contours of his face and broad build might be something one could look beyond, the pointed ears beneath his raven black hair, could not.

She stumbled back, part of her fearing whatever magic he possessed would allow him to breach the glass between them and snatch her from where she stood, virgin or not. “You are a faerie.”

“Now, so quick to cast judgment, darling. I’ve done nothing to harm you, have I? I promised I wouldn’t and if you know anything about my kind then I’m sure you know a faerie’s word is binding. I cannot lie to you, pet.”

“Is this how all fae choose to communicate with mortals, or do the rest find us too plain for their entertainment?”

He chuckled. “All that matters, darling, is that you are worth my attention.”

She swallowed. “And if I do not wish to have your attention?”

His charming grin broadened. “I have been honest with you, Feyre. It’s only fair that you return the favor. If you did not crave my attention you would have been screaming at that locked door the moment I identified myself.”

Feyre pursed her lips. Though his words rang true, she didn’t appreciate being called out. She did crave company, she realized. Even after the exhaustion of the evening, the years of lonely nights outweighed the social strain of a single evening. 

“You have announced your presence, but given no name or title.”

“Darling.” His amusement softened to something she couldn’t quite label. Not that she had much need to. His title wasn’t important at the moment, just that she listened to him. Each word he spoke was true after all. “Much better. You’re a lovely thing once those hackles fall, aren’t you.”

“I—”

“Come closer, little mate. Let me see you.”

Another step brought her to the dresser and couldn’t help but reach up to the glass, her palm flush against the faerie’s. It was the strangest sensation when the mirror’s face rippled beneath her fingers, but the soothing hold over her mind did not waver. That is until her hand met the familiar warmth of human flesh, a calloused palm cradling her soft fingers.

“And now you’re mine.”

That strange hold snapped, reminding her of her caution—the fears born of instinct and stories told, each and every one a warning to heed. “What did you do to me?”

The faerie only smiled, squeezing her hand tighter and pulling her into his dark world.

~~~~~

Perhaps it was the strange means of travel, perhaps it was her fear. Either way, Feyre was dismayed to find herself waking curled up on a set of silken black sheets, clearly having lost consciousness long enough to be carried into someone else's home. Not carried—abducted. 

She shivered, pulling back the edge of the flat sheet just enough to ensure her clothing was still in place, immodest as it was on its own. Scanning the room to make sure she was truly alone, she scurried across the room to snatch the robe thrown over the cracked armoire. She’d just finished tying the oversized garment when she sensed another presence in the room.

“Show yourself,” she demanded, attempting to be subtle as she scanned the room for anything resembling a weapon. “Enough games!”

“As you wish, darling.”

The space behind her warmed slightly, the solid male form behind her unmistakable. “Who are you?” It was a small miracle, Feyre supposed, that her voice was steadier than her hands as she pulled the neck of the robe together until it pressed flush to her throat. “Why did you bring me here? I have not—I wouldn’t—”

Despite their truth, Feyre couldn’t summon the words that may change the course of her fate. She knew what made a noblewoman valuable on the marriage market. If she could just convince this faerie she hadn’t ruined herself…

“It’s not your virtue I’m concerned with, Feyre darling.” A mark against her childhood stories, if he could be believed. But why else would he abduct a human from her home. “Beastly as most of our customs and traditions may be,” the man continued, “the society I’ve found a home in might be considered progressive in comparison to your human beliefs.”

Feyre turned to face him. “Society.” She retreated another step, praying he hadn’t seen her eyes dart to the fireplace a moment ago—and the iron poker beside it. Which of them would be faster, she wondered, if she could keep her intentions secret long enough to wield the makeshift weapon? What color would he bleed? “You are a lord, then.”

His lips curled into a half smile, as if her assumption of his status was amusing. “Something like it. The caste system you know is a bit different from our own, I’m afraid. But we’ll get back to that.” He took a step towards her, giving her an excuse to draw closer to her goal. The cowed girl he seemed keen on controlling would become a woman with a weapon. “First—”

Feyre didn’t let herself hesitate. The moment her hand closed on the poker she turned the sharp end on her kidnapper with the intent to wound, if not kill. 

Only for her body to fail her. Her mental freedom was claimed just as swiftly, cold talons forcing their way past the brittle wall she had seemed to create through her own instinct rather than practice.

“Oh, my pet.” His thumb pressed into her wrist and her hand spasmed, the iron rod clattering against the wood at their feet. “What are we going to do with you?”

She would have been trembling, if she had control of herself. Perhaps it was a small mercy then, that he had this hold over her. “It doesn’t have to stay this way.”

“What do you mean?” she managed to grit out.

A slow smirk bloomed across his disgustingly perfect face just before he reached for her. His large hands were feather light as they followed the curves of her body, finally settling on her hips. The heat of them could have burned straight through the thin fabric of the robe maintaining her modesty. And the way he looked down at her… she wasn’t quite certain how to describe that look. The claws holding her mind began to retract and at last she could think—could breathe again. 

“So dramatic, my pet.” Her eyes snapped back to his, her demand lingering on the tip of her tongue before she thought better of shouting at him. He had used his magic against her twice now. He could certainly do it again if she caused trouble. “Smart girl.”

“You can read minds.”

“Read them, control them. It does wonders in keeping the unruly… we’ll say compliant.” She shivered again. “You’ll do well to remember, my darling Feyre, that I am always with you.” Because even now, her body once again her own, a shadow had taken root in her mind. She had a feeling it would make itself at home for a good long while. Until she discovered a way to block him out. The faerie chuckled. “Perhaps in a century or two you’ll find yourself strong enough. If all goes to plan.”

She tensed. “To plan?”

“Later, little one. For now—” One hand slid to her front, fingering the knot keeping her stolen robe closed. “—I’d like to strike a bargain.”

~~~~~

Rhysand

“A bargain?” the girl sputtered. “You really think you’ll get away with this? My family—”

“Your family doesn’t believe in magic, darling. Who's to say their wild little rebel didn’t learn how to pick her bedroom lock and run into the night to avoid a loveless marriage? If they aren't convinced in the beginning, persuasion is my specialty as you now know.”

His little mate didn’t need to know the truth behind his curse. It wouldn’t change the fact she belonged to him—would remain here at his side in the end. Stubborn as Feyre Archeron may be, Rhys had never picked a battle he couldn’t win.

All this victory would take was persistence and a firm hand. The rest would fall in place on its own, starting with the girl and ending with her fool of a father.

“Please,” she began to beg.

He tutted, pressing a finger to her lips. That wouldn’t do. At least not yet. “The details,” he finally purred in her ear, dropping one hand to cradle the same wrist he’d gripped to force the poker from her hand, sweeping a thumb tenderly over that trigger point until she shivered against him. She may not be aware of their bond, but she responded to it all the same. “Each night when your handmaiden departs, you will let the mirror bring you here. Two wraiths will greet you in this room and prepare you for the evening’s activities.”

“Activities?” she whispered, her warm breath grazing his cheek.

“You will dance for me, darling. Some nights before my court. Others may be for my eyes alone, here in this very room. You will be painted with the symbols of my court, dressed in my colors, drunk on my wine.” Her eyes widened when the back of her knees hit the bed, apparently not having realized he was slowly guiding her across the room. “You will belong to me from dusk till dawn, starting tonight.”

Her thoughts were overridden with panic, limbs flailing the moment her back met his sheets. “If you fail to comply, you will lose your privilege to return to the human realm. If you fail to arrive I will cross the veil between us and drag you here myself.”

“You can’t do this!” she cried, still attempting to break free of his hold, even as he successfully immobilized her.

“I’m the High King, darling.” Leaning down, he licked up her neck, delighted when she once again shivered beneath him. “I can do anything I please.” ~~~~~

Feyre

High King. Feyre wasn’t quite certain how different that was from a regular king, but she did know one thing. She had finally found the sort of trouble she couldn’t slip free of. “I—” She choked on her words, startled by the fingers that grazed her clitoris. “What are you doing?”

She tried to wriggle away, only succeeding in further stimulation.

“Providing some encouragement.”

“I’d be ruined.”

“Say yes, pet, and that can be prevented.”

Those talons once again breached her mind, this time gentle, encouraging, as he suggested. “You’re cheating.”

A snap of his fingers and her clothes were gone. “Yes,” he purred into her mind, that cruel mouth leaving a hot, wet trail of kisses from the soft spot behind her ear all the way down to her shoulder. “And I have no intention of playing fair until you agree to my demands. You’ll dance for me, darling. One way or another.

“You. Are. Mine.”

Two thick fingers sank into her and she gasped, kicking and squirming until she felt him brush her hymen. “Please,” she panted, closing a hand around his wrist, not that she had the strength to stop him.

“I’ll give you ten seconds, darling. Agree to live between my land and yours and I will wait to claim you. Try to defy me…”

She would belong to him in every sense. “Ten.” She’d be trapped in this realm every hour of every day for the rest of her pathetically short life. “Nine.” The High King’s whore. “Eight.” Serving his every whim before his court. “Seven.” To agree to the bargain would bring her back into society’s marriage machinations. “Six.” Likely standing at the altar before she turned twenty. “Five.” She may end up loathing her husband rather than loving him. “Four.” But what kind of person would she be if she left her family entirely? “Three.”

“Wait.”

“Two.” His fingers pressed a little farther into her.

“I have conditions!”

He chuckled against her breast, those clever fingers dragging just so. “Of course you do, darling. Do begin.” His hot mouth closed over her nipple and she whined. She should hate this. She should really, truly hate this.

“I’m waiting, Feyre.”

She loathed him. Why could she not loathe his touch just the same?

“You can’t—y-you—”

She was already lost to the pleasure of his touch. She had no chance now of forming a coherent sentence. His teeth pinched down hard on her nipple and she cried out. Better then, to embrace that mental connection. To submit to it. It was a lovely feeling, trusting the talons tightening by a fraction, those subtle shadows from before fading to make room for their solid counterparts.

She let the thought flit across her mind, that he would not leave his realm with the intention of harming her family.

“As you wish, little mate. So long as you come to me and keep our little secret, your loved ones will be safe.” Her left arm warmed slightly, from her fingertips all the way to her elbow. “Now you bear my mark,” he crooned, his satisfaction crystal clear.

An odd feeling niggled at the back of her mind. Saying that this was wrong. Offensive. She couldn’t quite grasp why. Any smart man lays claim to what belongs to him, doesn't he? The more obvious, the better. “That’s right, darling. It will remain glamoured to human eyes. Except for yours. We can’t have you forgetting for a moment who you belong to.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @whatishowedyouinthedark // @sajirah // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

The first couple of you that I tagged aren't normally on my list, but I added you because you've been so invested in my snippets. Let me know if you want to be removed or kept on permanently.

[grimm-writings]

HI IT'S EAVESDROP ANON YOU GAVE ME AN IDEA what if izutsumi and reader faced the succubi together, and izu sees that one of reader's succubi looks like chilchuck !! maybe she promises to keep it a secret, but also talks to reader about it? bonus points if izu and reader have a sort of unspoken mother/daughter relationship :')

to the grave

…ft! chilchuck x fem! reader, izutsumi & reader

…tags! headcanon format, slight suggestive points, motherly reader

…wc! 623

…notes! give it up for One Whole Request Complete omfg. sorry for how short it is eavesdrop anon it’s been a rough few weeks for me 🫶 this is absolutely not my best work, but i did what i could!

“Come on… I know you always thought about how I’d look underneath you.”

Hearing the words come from his mouth renders you still.  It’s his face, his voice, yet completely wrong.

You had thought he had somehow recovered and came back to help you, but of course it isn’t as easy as it appeared.

You’re lucky to have Izutsumi with you.  If it weren’t for her pushing you out of the way to claw at the succubus, you probably would have dropped all pretence and leaned down to where you had Chilchuck – or the succubus, rather – pinned to the floor to kiss.

Still, you can’t miss the look of absolute disbelief she gives you.

Silence fills the air as the succubus is reduced to nothing more than slob on the floor.  You refuse to look at what, to you, is eerily similar to Chilchuck’s visage.  Disturbingly so.  For just a second, you consider reaching out to it (him?) again.  However, Izutsumi is quick to swat you away. “Hey, we have a mob incoming,” she tells you.  You are about to retort, interrogating if she even felt remorse for hurting someone that looks like your ally, but Izutsumi’s quick to interrupt.  “We’ll discuss this later.” She leaves your side.  Preparing your weapon with a deep breath, you prepare to fight off the waves of succubi ahead.

It’s only when you and Izutsumi assemble all the bodies of your allies does she finally speak up.

She really isn’t interested in the ‘hot gossip’ like Marcille would be.  In her own rough way, Izutsumi is more just expressing worry for you.

She doesn’t overall react to the fact it’s Chilchuck that you saw.  It was just sort of an “Oh!” before she remembered that this succubus will steal your life force.

“So, you just wanted to protect me?” At your conclusion, Izutsumi growls.  She faces away from you as she drags over a succubus to drain into Senshi’s pot. “When you put it like that,” she grumbles, “it makes it sound all virtuous and sappy.” You laugh, reaching over to pat Izutsumi’s head.  “I appreciate it very much, thank you Izutsumi.” Maybe it’s the fact she just had to confront this ‘mother’ the succubi took the form of, but the cat girl feels at ease when you show affection to her.  She sighs, giving up on the argument quicker than she normally would.

That is to say… she wouldn’t not tease you.

She’d hand you some of the milk, poured into a bowl.  “Here, for Chilchuck.”

Your face contorts in confusion.  “Why me?”

“So you can get all close and intimate and stuff.”

“Izutsumi.”

She wants to support you both!  She just… doesn’t really care.

The party has woken up, and by now Marcille has spoken up, “what were your succubi like?  Laios?  Oh, what about yours?” She turns to you, her green eyes glimmering with curiosity.  Cheeks and tip of her ears flushed, it’s hard to miss what exactly she’s on about. You sheepishly laugh anyway, your mind recalling the lowered eyelids, the words spoken to you by the succubus.  “I don’t know if I…” “Hey, don’t pressure her to say things like that.” Chilchuck’s voice cuts through the air, and makes you jump.  He’s at your side, shooing Marcille away.  “That stuff’s usually private for a reason.  If she wants to say, she will.” It doesn’t go unnoticed how Chilchuck doesn’t say a word when Marcille instead asks Laios for details on his succubus, though. Though you should be glad Izutsumi isn’t awake to see this.  If she was, she’d be rolling her eyes and bemoaning how nauseating the pining was to herself.  So, maybe taking things to the grave is for the better.

[rebelliousstories]

25 Days of Ficmas 2024

You know the drill!! This year has been a whirlwind for new characters and it was so difficult to narrow down on older characters. But I hope you enjoy this years fics!

Frost (December 1st) Sean Renard

The streets of Portland are covered with slippery ice, and fresh falling snow. What happens when a man and a woman collide?

Coal (December 2nd) Luke Alvez

How do you keep a festive fire going in the winter? With festive flammables of course!

Toys (December 3rd) Bernard the Elf

A simple mistake leads to a welcome change.

Decorating (December 4th) Monroe

How many boxes is too many boxes of decorations?

Snowman (December 5th) Spencer Reid

Snowfall means that Spencer can not go into work today. With the roads closed, what is a girlfriend to do?

Spices (December 6th) Marko

Christmas time brings out a variety of smells that Marko’s human girl is more than happy to introduce him too, and even have him introduce her to some.

Christmas Eats (December 7th) Wade Wilson/ Deadpool

The merc with the mouth knows no bounds when it comes to the wonderful treats at Christmas time.

Tidings (December 8th) Logan Howlett/Wolverine

A snowy night. A warm diner. A hot meal. And a reluctant helper.

Fruitcake (December 9th) David

A simple childhood favorite that reduces lesser minds to fit of giggles.

Cheer (December 10th) Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

It is his first Christmas alone. Not completely alone, but alone enough.

By Any Other Name (December 11th) Dwayne

There’s a certain charm of learning about different traditions and cultures around the holidays.

Rooftop (December 12th) Donnie Darko

It’s not snowing, and it’s not terribly cold right now. But a quiet night on the roof is much needed to get away from the shenanigans down below.

Vacation (December 13th) Cooper Howard

How do you take your white Christmas; snow or sand?

Family Time (December 14th) Aaron Hotchner

With Jack getting a little bit older, it’s up to super dad to keep the magic alive.

Advent Calendar (December 15th) Nick Burkhardt

Twenty-five days till Christmas. Every day, a new treat.

Vintage (December 16th) Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

No matter how old he gets, there’s something so nostalgic about drinking a coke from a bottle on the beach for the holidays.

Sweet Treats (December 17th) Robert “Bob” Floyd

There’s a new favorite Floyd when the couple comes to the Dagger team potluck.

Sleigh (December 18th) Paul

It’s on one cold night in December that the boys and girls in the cave realize, they need to tell Paul there’s more than one version of sleigh.

Milk and Cookies (December 19th) Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Watching the nieces and nephews, Hangman feels a weird feeling making the cookies for Santa.

Mr. And Mrs. Claus (December 20th) Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Oh the running joke on the base about the one couple that likes to decorate for the holidays…

Spirit (December 21st) David Loki

Getting Loki into the Christmas spirit is like pulling teeth. But a few days off might change that.

Online Shopping (December 22nd) James “Bucky” Barnes

Trapped in his own home, there’s very little that he can do to express himself, or show that expression to anyone else. But Sergeant Barnes ain’t no quitter; he just has to navigate a new world.

Seasons Greetings (December 23rd) Remy LeBeau/ Gambit

Being so far away from home at the holidays, it was not something that most people could do. But leave it to a Cajun in love with another Cajun to bring home to him.

‘Twas the Night Before… (December 24th) Poly!Lost Boys

Christmas Eve is finally here, and Laddie is being introduced to a Christmas classic whether the boys like it or not.

Oh Christmas Day (December 25th) Sean Renard

There was something magical about spending your first Christmas together, especially after not celebrating for so long.

[gochizo]

woOWWW here's the art i made for chapter 2 of Kamen Rider GRIMM!!! I worked extremely hard on both it and the new chapter so if you have a chance definitely go check it out :3c