#have a lil story time outside of the tags for once since I am feeling nice and less shy than usual

[explorevenus]

piercing porcelain, crimson sap ♡ vampire!steddie x reader (pt. 1)

recommended listening - dracula (nate sees cassie) - labrinth

this part is generally sfw but the bulk of this series will be nsfw (18+) - so minors dni !!!!! or i will call ur mom

word count - 5k

description - in a fantasy world, reader is from a small, remote village. for many years you have been drawn to the mysterious mansion in the woods, the very same mansion you were warned against visiting for so long. you’ve tended to the neglected garden since you were young, growing attached to the strange, abandoned structure, only to one day find out the mansion isn’t as vacant as you’d thought...

tags/warnings - vampire!steddie, dark!steddie, innocent!reader, fem/afab!reader, pet names, no use of (Y/N), stevie is a lil cold at first but he warms up i promise, eddie is v manipulative lol, implied hypnosis, no smut yet but i promise it’s coming, fantasy elements obvi

a/n - ok i know this premise is done to death and like somewhat out of left field for a fucking stranger things fic but HEAR ME OUT. HEAR ME OUT OKAY. i am a SLUT for sexy mysterious vampire boys and i’ll be DAMNED if i don’t turn steve and eddie into sexy mysterious vampire boys at least once before i die. thank u for understanding and if u see this and it flops no u didn’t ♡

taglist - @urlbitchin​

my masterlist ♡ ​

part 2 coming soon ! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist :)​

fic below the cut, thanks for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡

-venus ♡

Growing up in the woods, you were always taught to avoid the decrepit old mansion that hid away in the shadows of the tall trees, a warning you would heed with great caution as a child, but not so much as you grew into your teenage years. 

You were 15 when you first felt the urge to rebel, or rather when you first failed to fight it off. Restricting yourself to only the outside of the property, to make yourself feel better about your choices, if anything, you had set off along the overgrown path that winded northeast and just down the valley, into a remote corner of the wilderness where the decaying building loomed tall, quieting the forest around it.

Based on all the horror stories you'd been told over the years, you expected to find the place teeming with evil spirits, or perhaps grotesque monsters; but, it was silent as could be, utterly vacant by the looks of it, and at first, rather underwhelming. You thought to yourself that maybe that was the point of all those hyperbolic cautionary tales that the elders passed down, to build up this great big image of what evil might be hiding away here, only for the purpose of letting down those expectations later. You were ready to give up and walk home, disappointed by your findings (or lack thereof), when you caught sight of a beautiful jungle of plants out of the corner of your eye-- they were bursting through the gaps in an old iron fence. It was a long forgotten garden, and as luck would have it, plenty of the plants there were invaluable for your alchemical endeavors.

Every now and then you would slip away and return to the garden, mindlessly sifting through the salvageable ingredients, and as the years went on you'd made a habit of tidying up the weeds where you could, too. Your interest in alchemy hadn't fully extended to an interest in gardening, so you weren't the most experienced by any means, but it was amazing what the smallest loving touch could do for a long forgotten place. Not to mention, the ridding of the weeds allowed the more sought after plants to properly flourish. It became your own private place, your own little slice of heaven, untouched by anyone but yourself. You loved the community you'd grown up in, but you felt an immense comfort near that strange mansion.

In your adulthood you only began to spend more time at the property, caring for the precious plants and dreaming that the mansion was yours, dreaming that you were not a village witch thieving ingredients for a living but the mistress of a beautiful household, gardening for pleasure in her overabundance of free time. It wasn't so much the material that you wanted, no, but the freedom-- freedom from the dangers of the woods, freedom from that constant worry of being unable to provide for yourself, for your village. It was nice to fantasize sometimes.

On this particular afternoon, it was overcast when you were readying yourself to leave the village, so you saw it fit to bring an umbrella. The prospect of rain didn't bother you a bit, or change your plans to visit the mansion at all-- it had been too long since the last rainfall, so both yourself and the plants were sorely needing it anyway. You lifted the hood of your soft cloak over your head and stepped outside, flower basket in-hand and toting a leather backpack full of various gardening supplies.

Cutting through the trees to that fading old pathway, little rocks and twigs crunching ambiently beneath your boots, you looked up at the grey sky above to see that it was only continuing to darken on the horizon. Thick black clouds loomed in the distance, swallowing up every last bit of sunlight and visibly unleashing buckets of rain upon the northern end of the mountain range, and they were barreling closer at a rate highly noticeable to the naked eye. You briefly considered turning back, but decided to stick to it anyway, given the worst case scenario was having to walk home drenched.

That old iron fence creaked loudly in greeting as you entered, even louder than usual due to the moisture in the air. You closed it softly behind you and made your way over to the patch of nightshade that you'd been tending to. You propped your umbrella up on the stump of a nearby tree, crouched beneath it, and got to work pulling up weeds as little droplets began to fall around you. The petrichor was delightful and comforting, and the rainfall softened the earth enough to make it just a little easier to uproot things. It didn't take long for you to settle into a comfortable autopilot mode as the droplets became gradually larger, and more plentiful.

Eddie and Steve liked this kind of rain.

Any kind of rain was favored, of course, but today was unmistakably a treat. The clouds were so dense and blackened with excess that no sunlight could hope to shine through. There was much excitement to be had on darkened days such as these, for a creature of the night-- the ability to roam during waking hours provided an entirely new insight into the lives and routines of their prospective cattle, and as a bonus, the moisture in the air tended to strengthen certain scents. 

But, in a more wholesome light, it was quite nice to reminisce in the long faded memory of their own mortality, to pretend, if even just for one afternoon, that their hearts may beat with vitality as they once did, that their bodies might once again hunger for fruit or pastries instead of thick red blood. It was a perfect day for a stroll, Eddie thought, and if they were to happen upon something suitable to dine on in the process, well, that's all the better...

Unfortunately, for his own skeptical reasons, Steve didn't seem to agree. He felt that it was too much of a risk to be seen by anyone, that it would blow their cover, and perhaps his paranoia was not entirely unfounded, though Eddie hesitated to give in. Not only had it been a while since the last good rainfall like this, but it had certainly been far too long since they'd found a new plaything, and Eddie was becoming... rather restless. The last few cattle they'd brought in hadn't really wowed him, as they were chosen more out of necessity and convenience than pleasure, and in turn, it took hardly any time at all for him to grow bored with them. Eddie needed something new, something exciting to keep him entertained for much, much longer than that. The weather provided the most enticing opportunity to stalk around, it was a shame that Steve was so adamantly against it. He could really be no fun sometimes.

Eddie was sulking around the mansion while Steve worked away in the upstairs office-- he had taken the additional waking hours as an opportunity to get ahead on his obligations, which was quite characteristically responsible of him, but Eddie couldn't bring himself to sit still, knowing that such a golden opportunity was being wasted. He could only rearrange the liquor cabinet so many times, let alone the furniture-- the exterior of the mansion was to remain untouched, to maintain the illusion of vacancy. With each passing second, the temptation to slip out for a bit to hunt while Steve worked was picking away at him.

Tossing the idea around, just for fun, of course, Eddie approached the nearest window and drew back the heavy red curtains for a peek outside-- just a scan of the property couldn't hurt, right?-- and as his mocha eyes followed along the treeline surrounding the property, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but he froze in place as he picked up on an intriguing scent. Curiously, Eddie cracked the old window open, letting in a draft of the cool, fresh air, and just as he'd hoped, it carried with it the sweet smell of living flesh. The stars couldn't have aligned more beautifully-- there was a human nearby.

To avoid alerting Steve, Eddie quickly sealed the window shut once more, slinking away up the stairs for a better view from the windows in the master bedroom. They were bigger than the ones in the hallway, had a much higher vantage point, and more conveniently, faced the single overgrown path that led to and from the property. Truthfully, he hadn't expected to find much-- Eddie didn't really consider himself lucky, and he knew that the powerful scents carried by the humid air could sometimes be deceiving. 

Still, just as he'd done before, he drew back the curtains and cracked the window, peering outward, noting that the human's scent was stronger here. It was floral and saccharine, like fresh lavender and juicy peach, laced with ribbons of intoxicating iron. Eddie's lashes fluttered as his eyes slid shut in delight, and he allowed himself a moment to breathe in deeply with an open, slightly watering mouth.

His eyes opened again and immediately caught sight of movement on the ground below. Eddie couldn't believe his eyes at first; crouched beneath an umbrella in the garden was a pretty little witch, muddying her slight hands in the thick weeds with no evident knowledge of the mansion's occupants. She wore a pale pink cloak that matched her boots and her umbrella, the white frills of her dress poofing out from beneath it, pointed elven ears peeking through her hair. Eddie could hardly fathom leaving the girl out in the rain-- after all, she must be freezing...

Eddie briefly considered asking Steve for his opinion, but had a sore feeling that he knew what he would say, and it wasn't likely to be in his favor. Deep down, he knew that it might be a reckless move, but the aroma in the air was all too enticing. With every passing second he was losing grasp of his better judgement. The temptation was far too much, and so it was that he gathered an umbrella of his own, and decided he would rather ask for forgiveness later. His sleek black dress shoes went from tapping elegantly across the hardwood floors to sinking into the wet earth. While he wasn't exactly thrilled that his expensive shoes had been exposed to the elements, he knew that the reward could be well worth it. Conveniently, too, the softness of the ground masked the noise of his movements, allowing him a bit more time to observe the girl in her relaxed state. Eddie approached the little elf slowly, not wanting to frighten her. She was so absorbed in her work that she hadn't even looked up.

In all honesty, the girl's unmoving focus and lowered guard brought a little smirk to Eddie's face. Finally, he asked aloud, "My, sweetheart, aren't you cold?" His voice was so warm and sweet, but somehow chilling, too.

You startled, freezing in place as your eyes raked up the length of his body before you-- he was so tall, with long legs clad in nice black slacks that fit him sinfully well, and contrasted to his pale white skin in a way that gave him a nearly unnatural glow. His alabaster face was framed by wildly curly, dark hair, tucked into a messy low bun behind his neck. You couldn't find the words to speak-- he was certainly stunning, a sight for sore eyes, but you had definitely not expected to see anyone out here, let alone in this weather, and it was even weirder that he was able to sneak up on you.

"Oh, you poor thing, you're shivering..." The mysterious man frowned, crouching to your level, fingertips tracing along the underside of her jaw. Little did you know that he was feeling for your pulse. "Why don't you come inside and warm up, hm? We'll get you out of this rain and into some dry clothes."

Inside...? You were only puzzled further-- as far as you knew, this mansion had been vacant for decades, and it certainly looked the part. The garden was far from the only section of it that had fallen into disrepair. The circumstances of this situation were overtly suspicious, but there was something about him that just made it so hard to say no. The mysterious man was equal parts haunting and alluring, comforting and hazardous. Before you could say anything, he reached forward to wrap an arm around your shoulders and then began to usher you indoors.

Shutting the heavy oak door softly behind you, the man rested a hand on your shoulder from behind. "May I take your umbrella?" He kindly asked.

"T-Thank you," You blushed, shakily handing your umbrella over to the man, suddenly being washed over by a feeling of guilt for dripping water all over the beautiful hardwood flooring. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone lived here--"

"Shh, it's quite alright, angel," He soothed, hand sliding from your shoulder to your collarbone as he stepped forward, and twisted around to face you. Every movement he made was so enchanting, so graceful, you nearly tripped over yourself as he was stepping out of his muddy shoes. "I appreciate the company. It's not often we get visitors out here."

You were then given absolutely no time to ponder the implication of the word 'we' as the man asked for your name. Somewhat warily, you gave it to him. He hummed contentedly, testing the name out on his tongue, and he was very much pleased with how it felt.

"How pretty," He mused. "And how sweet of you to take such good care of our garden... it's nice to meet you. I'm Eddie."

You were immediately flustered at the praise, cheeks flushing bright pink as your eyes darted somewhere else, drinking in your surroundings-- perhaps the outside of the mansion was falling apart, but the inside was truly beautiful. Dark, but beautiful. Intricately carved wooden furniture decorated the space, fine paintings adorned the deep blue walls which flickered a warm orange with cozy candlelight, and the ceilings were so high that it made you feel particularly small. It looked almost regal. 

Eddie gently reached for your hand, bringing you swiftly back to reality. "Why don't you come upstairs and we'll get you out of those wet clothes, hm?" He asked, but he was already leading the way-- again, there was something unnaturally persuasive about him, and it went far deeper than his unparalleled beauty. You rounded a corner and began to ascend the winding staircase, the fine wood creaking softly beneath your steps. 

Clearing your throat nervously, you finally mustered up the courage to speak. "Do you live alone here?"

Eddie shook his head, leading you down a hallway at the top of the staircase. You followed obediently. "I have a roommate, an... old friend, named Steve," Eddie explained over his shoulder. "He's working away in his office, but I hope we see him soon. I would love to introduce you."

Of course, Eddie was well aware that your scent would soon breach the door to Steve's office, that it was only a matter of time until he'd follow it through the house until it led him to the both of you. He knew Steve would be angry with him, but he also knew Steve would have a hard time saying no to such a pretty meal laid out just for him. Eddie was willing to take that risk.

One of two thick oak doors creaked open before you, revealing an immaculate master bedroom. The windows were blocked with heavy black drapes which matched the dark, plush bedding, complimented by the stained wood floor. The walls were painted a deep, navy blue, shrouding the room in darkness save for the soft light of a bedside lamp crafted of Tiffany glass.

"You have a beautiful home," You spoke softly, eyes fixated to the many intricate details of the space that seemed endless, every flick of your eyes uncovering new treasures to be admired-- paintings, trinkets, candles long burnt down and dripping hardened wax down their bases.

Eddie chuckled, gazing at you out of the corner of his eye as he rifled through the closet for something you could wear, though it was hard for him to make a decision. You looked so adorable in your soft colored clothes, even drenched in rain and speckled with earth, and he sadly didn't have anything that matched your gentle appearance.

"Thank you, doll. You're very sweet," He finally replied, and as the words left his lips he noticed your polite manners. You observed your surroundings quietly, hands clasped in front of you as you made the noticed choice not to overstep, not to touch anything without permission, not to look too closely at any one thing. 

It came as a surprise to him when he felt his cold heart swell. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a way about someone he'd tricked into his home for a quick meal.

He brought his attention back to the closet, giving up on his own side and choosing instead to rummage through Steve's-- yet another decision he might come to regret, but at least Steve was more likely to own something soft and colorful. Almost immediately his eyes landed on a thick yellow sweater that would surely warm you up. Eddie plucked it off of its hanger and turned to hand it to you.

However, you were lost in an oil painting on the wall, wide eyes glassy with wonder as you looked over each brushstroke of a glowing crescent moon over a stream of rushing water. Eddie and Steve had acquired that painting so long ago that Eddie couldn't even remember where it came from or who painted it, but just how mesmerized you were by the piece was art enough for him.

Eddie cleared his throat to gather your attention, holding the sweater out for you. "Here, this should help you warm up," He smiled, careful not to bare his teeth. He didn't want to scare you off now. Only moments ago he simply wanted to bleed you dry, but now he found himself wanting to taste you, savor you, perhaps even keep you.

Oblivious, you took the garment from him with a smile, amazed at how soft it was. You thanked Eddie quietly before turning around to shed yourself of your dress, undoing the thin ribbons that secured it in the back before letting it slip gently down from your shoulders. You stepped out of the soaked piece carefully, thankful to your past self for choosing to wear tights and thin shorts beneath it, and as you pulled the cozy sweater over your head you delighted in the near immediate warmth that came with it. Shortly after, you gathered your dress from the floor and turned to face him.

"Thank you. Is there somewhere I can hang this to dry?" You asked.

Eddie tried to conceal his smirk as he answered you, "Well, I would say you could hang it on the clothesline, but..." He gestured toward the window which was concealed behind the thick drapes, but the sound of fat rain drops pattering against the glass was clear. "You should stay inside until the rain lets up, hm? I'd be happy to light the fireplace for you."

"I don't know... I should probably get back to the village in case the storm gets any worse," You spoke reluctantly, casting your gaze to the floor in disappointment, a move that was not lost on Eddie. "I might need to help cover the crops. I don't know what we'll do for the winter if our harvest is flooded."

Your disappointment communicated a couple of things to him-- one, you truly wanted to stay and spend time with him, and two, it was likely you'd be easy to convince to do just that. Of course he understood your plight, though he hadn't really considered the struggles of everyday, living, breathing people in a long time, but selfishly...

"Well, how many people live in your village, sweetheart?" He asked. You looked up at him, tilting your head quizzically. He chuckled, clarifying, "I don't get out much. I wouldn't know."

You had to think for a second-- you'd never really counted-- and when you landed on an estimate you were comfortable with, you obliged. "I don't know exactly... 45 or 50, maybe?"

Eddie hummed, crossing his arms casually. "That's a lot of hands. I'm sure they'll fare just fine without your help for a few hours, yeah?"

You pondered for a moment, just beginning to part your lips to accept his offer to stay for a while when another voice cut through the air, disapproving and materializing out of nowhere: "Eddie... What do you think you're doing?"

While you startled at the unexpected voice, jumping slightly where you stood, Eddie could only grin, turning slowly around to face the man in the doorway.

Only logical, you surmised this was the 'friend' Eddie had told you about earlier-- he was tall and athletic, square jaw and long lashes with fluffy brown hair that wisped over his face. The top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a thatch of dark hair over his strong chest. Your mouth dried-- the two of them were strikingly, devilishly handsome, especially together, and suddenly you felt your cheeks heating up with confusion over your own feelings and embarrassment for causing a problem.

Eddie's response cut your internal dialogue short. "Stevie! There you are," He greeted innocently. "Remember how you mentioned the garden looked like it was coming back to life? Well, I found the culprit," He joked, gesturing to you as he introduced you by name. Your face burned even hotter.

"...And you found the culprit wearing my shirt?" Steve asked.

You felt your heart sink into yourself. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know-" You stammered, but Eddie raised his palm to quiet you and spoke for you instead.

"Come on, Steve, look at her... Poor thing got soaked in the rain! Besides, doesn't she look adorable in yellow?"

Suddenly you felt hot for a different reason. You looked down to the floor to hide your face-- little did you know they could both hear your heart pounding. Still staring at the floor, you spoke up again, a little louder this time. "Um, I'm sorry for intruding... You can have your shirt back and I'll just go. I didn't mean to cause any problems."

As you looked up to make your way toward the door, you accidentally locked eyes with Eddie. An unexpected wave of calm washed over you, stopping you in your tracks.

"Nonsense, sweetheart," Eddie said. "You're not intruding at all."

Steve gave him a look that missed you completely, a look you wouldn't have been able to read anyway in your trance-like state. You couldn't really manage to speak, let alone interpret the silent communication between two men who were obviously so close with each other that the most subtle physical cues could speak a thousand words. 

Eddie put a hand on your shoulder. It was cold.

He smiled at you confidently. "Would you mind giving us the room for a moment, doll?"

Your feet were carrying you to the door before his words even fully sank in. Your gaze lingered on Steve for just a moment as you passed by him on your way out-- he was intently watching you go, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. You weren't sure how to feel about that.

Plopping down to sit at the top of the staircase, you tugged at the sleeves of the yellow sweater and wondered what kind of conversation they were having. It was overtly obvious Steve didn't want you there, but Eddie seemed quite sure of his ability to change Steve's mind. Having just met him less than an hour ago, you didn't know him well enough to trust his judgment on that. 

A tall grandfather clock ticked rhythmically down the hall, echoing each passing second. You picked idly at your tights just to pass the time, hoping Eddie's offer to light the fireplace for you would still be in the question, should Steve decide you could stay. You could faintly hear the timbre of their voices muted by the thick wooden door, but you couldn't make out what was being said or even discern the emotion behind it. All you could do was sit there, practicing your patience. Part of you wondered if you should just leave the sweater in your place and go, if it weren't for the fact your dress was still in the bedroom and you had no idea where Eddie put your umbrella.

You were too absorbed in your thoughts to notice the hallway had quieted. Apparently you were also too absorbed in your thoughts to notice the sound of the bedroom door opening.

"You do look rather cute in that sweater," A voice startled you from behind. Clutching your chest, you turned to face the source of it, surprised to find Steve. He was noticeably calmer and offering you his hand to help you up. "I might just have to let you keep it."

Shocked, you blushed as you took his hand, rising gently from where you sat. His hand was cold too. "T-Thanks," You stuttered. "I'm sorry if I caused any problems-"

"You didn't," He cut you off with a warm smile. "I promise. The apology is mine-- I'm sorry for coming off the way I did. You didn't do anything wrong."

"There you go, Stevie," Eddie chimed in from the bedroom doorway. You were beginning to sense a pattern that they had a unique ability to sneak up on you. "See? I knew you could play nice."

Steve shook his head, giving you an exasperated look that communicated quite well to you that Eddie was no stranger to successful persuasion such as this. "Let's get that fireplace lit, shall we?"

Guiding you down the stairs by your hand, Eddie trailing close behind, Steve led you to the parlor and encouraged you to make yourself comfortable as he knelt before the fireplace, stacking nearby logs of firewood into the soot-stained enclosure. Eddie was quick to replace Steve's hand with his own, leading you over to the couch. He offered to brew some tea for you, which you eagerly accepted, and as he made his way to the kitchen you found yourself sinking into the soft couch and watching Steve turn the gas valve at the bottom of the fireplace, striking a match to set the lumber alight at last.

Steve sat on the couch to your left, leaned coolly against the arm. The light from the fire cast a flickering orange glow over his handsome features.

He asked you about how you'd found yourself here, what measures you'd taken to revive the garden and what your village was like. He seemed hesitant to tell you much about his own past, other than that he came from a family in the city that he wasn't particularly close with. You let it slide, figuring there was much more to it than that, and you didn't feel comfortable prying.

Soon Eddie returned with a hot cup of tea, cautioning you to be careful of its temperature before he handed it off to you. You hadn't asked what kind it was, but it smelled delightfully earthy and herbal and a little bit minty, sure to chase the chill from your bones. You thanked him with a polite smile as he sat on the couch to your right, cradling the warm porcelain in your hands.

The three of you continued to chat, learning more about each other as you all became comfortable and opened up a bit. You learned that Eddie plays guitar-- he promised to show you sometime. You learned that Steve used to be an incredible athlete. You learned that the two of them met in school, that they hated each other at first, but have since been inseparable for a longer period of time than either of them could recall. You told them about your family, about your aptitude for horticulture. You promised to teach them how to care for their plants.

The conversation came to a comfortable break, the parlor draped in silence other than the pleasant sound of wood crackling in the fireplace. You were a sip or two away from finishing your tea when Steve leaned forward, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear as he asked, "Do you believe in the supernatural?"

It was an odd question that seemed to come out of nowhere. You nodded slightly. "I mean... yeah. Living in the woods for so long, I know quite well that there are many things on this Earth that nature couldn't possibly explain." You quietly sipped your tea.

"Does it scare you?" Eddie smirked, planting a cool hand on your knee. Suddenly you were feeling nervous under the pressure of their attention. You finished the last of your tea, leaning forward to set your empty mug on the coffee table.

"Not really," You replied, eyes focused on the fire. "Everything in nature requires a balance. Light and dark, hot and cold..."

"Predator and prey?" Eddie added.

You tensed a little bit, nodding. "Sure, that's a great example. It's all Gaia's will."

"Even if you were the prey?" Steve asked.

"Y-Yeah, I mean, of course," You hummed, wishing now that you hadn't finished your tea so fast. You needed something to fidget with. "It's all Gaia's will," You repeated.

Eddie's hand repositioned from your knee to your thigh so smoothly that you almost hadn't noticed. "Hmm... What about pain and pleasure?"

Steve's yellow sweater was beginning to feel rather hot on your body. Your breath hitched in your throat. "Absolutely," You answered innocently, although your voice shook. "It all contributes to a delicate balance."

You weren't stupid. You knew where they were going with this... or at least you thought you did. Oddly enough, as you'd answered just moments before, you weren't scared.

Maybe if you'd really known what you were in for, you would have been.

[sixofsol]

@johaerys-writes tagged my main (@heypax) for this, but since ive talked about my fics more on this blog i decided to do it here instead !

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

26!

2. What is your AO3 word count?

151,778

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I mean, I haven’t written anything for anything but six of crows since like year back… But! I do miss writing patrochilles, and tsoa is the fandom i’ve written the absolute most for! If we’re looking back, I’ve written hadestown, steven universe, haikyuu!! and a bunch more years ago.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

we were shotgun lovers // I’m a shotgun running away - six of crows, wesper, 772 kudos

like moss climbs a tree - song of achilles, patrochilles, 446

i want someone to try, and let me down easy — six of crows, wesper, 405 kudos

from the outside looking in - the song of achilles, patrochilles, 371 kudos

twisted roots and sunny days, the song of achilles, patrochilles, 363 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

YES if i dont miss when i get them (i dont have the email motifs on) i always do ! it means so much someone commented and i always love having a lil conversation about this thing that i wrote.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

as much of an lover i am of hurt no comfort i very rarely write it lmao but a lot of my tsoa fics had sad endings. autumn’s coming around is the first one that popped into mind, but that’s at least slightly open ? i’ll hold your hand while you drown, less so.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I feel like a lot of my fics have equally happy endings haha, the one that came to mind was our hair tangled in the breeze, simply because its a happy ending canon complaint tsoa fic which is a feat lmao

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope the closets ive ever come was when i was 12 and people were like nice story but god your grammar and spelling is terrible! which was fair!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

nah I’m a fade to black kinda girlie

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I never anymore but well,, Once upon a time i was 14 and obsessed with glee and sherlock and well….

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as ik

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope !

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

nope, but I would enjoy trying!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

…this is hard because wesper has been running around in my head for a year but simply cause ive been obsessed with patrochilles longer im still gonna say them

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will?

I’d love to continue for everyone im about to prove wrong, and I think I even have a mostly finished chapter lying around somewhere, but I’ve just not had the inspiration rip.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m good at writing characters in general, especially when it’s from their pov. first person pov my beloved.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m not really a person who uses a lot of metaphors of writes flowery language, but i wish i was!! i love very beautiful language and poetic writing but i just don’t do that that much im pretty straight forward, which isn’t a bad thing but I wish i could expand a bit more.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

takes me out the story way too much, it’s fine if it’s like one word every now and then but nah. ive read a couple of young royals fics, and as a swedish speaker its a bit jarring to suddenly have swedish words there lmao

19. First fandom you wrote for?

If non published count, harry potter. if only published, glee!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

i’m gonna be fair to myself and choose one for soc and one for tsoa.

autumn’s coming around for tsoa and a fire died last winter for soc, which ironically are my least popular fics in the respective fandoms!

thank you !! and im tagging @leglesslouie @jackwolfes @wesperbrekkered @deathless--aphrodite

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Vikings + Gn!Thor

A/N: Since this is a Gn!Thor story, I wanted to take some inspo from the multiverse in the mcu.

Tags: @alicedopey, @bragisrunes

A little backstory: In this, the gn!reader is basically from a parallel universe where Thor grew up genderneutral. They still fell in love with Jane, but here, they can shapeshift their appearance to match the way they wanna present at that moment of the day. Jane is very bisexual and muscly.

Gn!Thor is trying to find an anniversary gift for Jane that is ~different~ and ~special~ bc she deserves it and finds a necklace with glowing stones. Perfect, they think, and then they touch it and are thrown back in time.

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Ragnar

Skeptical, of course

He also doesn’t know if he even believes in the gods (or just gods)

Accepts your gender identity quicker than the fact that you are from Asgard and can control thunder (even if you show him)

Eventually, you’ll become good friends

Not worthy lmao

Lagertha

She knows what to do when gods come to her hearth

Welcomes you and lets you in

Listens to your stories over the best beef stew you’ll ever have in your life

Takes a quick liking to you and shows you around

Worthy if we ignore everything past season 4b and her sleeping with Rollo (not slutshaming here, it's just the lying about it for me)

Aslaug

She knows you’ll come to Kattegat before you know you’ll come to Kattegat

Has a room prepared and everything

Sits down with you and has the kids leave you alone if you want, but she’ll be so happy if you answer all their questions and let them attempt to lift the hammer

Ofc she’s okay with your identity, she’s a völva ffs

In the running for worthy, pulls a Steve Rogers

Bjorn

I am not a Bjorn apologist

Does not realize who you are even if you grilled him with lightning

Gender outside binary bad, how fuck?

You better take your immortal patience with you

Not worthy, he abandoned his daughter and several of his wives

Ubbe

Gender neutral? That’s a new thing he should tell Hvitserk about

You’re a god? Cool, now help him find his stepchildren

Chill, as always. Supportive, as always

Does not go around shouting out who you are

You will feel safe, and that is a threat

Worthy if he reevaluates the Margrethe-situation and takes care of her even though she might be a lil cray cray

Hvitserk

I don’t think Hvitserk is cis tbh

Idk, he gives me questions gender on a Thursday afternoon vibes

Maybe genderfluid?

You can shoot lightning bolts? Can you grill steak to perfection with that power?

Absolutely worthy, and you can try to fight me on this. His addiction does not make him any lesser, and that’s on fucking canon. The worthiest person out there

Sigurd

Gender neutral? He also fucks with that

Wow look at you making the aslaugssons reevaluate their gender

Is chill with you being a god, but won’t make a big deal about it

Doesn’t want to lift the hammer to see if he’s worthy

He’s struggled with proving himself for long enough

Ivar

Does not understand your gender at first and when he does, he shrugs and says ‘well, that just sounds like Hvitserk’

Obsessed with the fact that you’re Thor, but more bc

Lightning = viking time atom bomb

Not worthy, and does not care

Well, maybe worthy after season 6

Floki

Absolutely understands your identity

And that you’re a god

Knows immediately, in fact

He might make you feel a little uncomfortable

Once he gets used to you, he’ll calm down

Also not worthy for obvious (escalates every fight) reasons

[tillthelandslide]

Broken

Anon request: “hi love, hope you are doing well.. I want to request you something.. Can you please write a fic/series where Henry's Gf dies.. and he is absolutely devastated and a mess since then ..He remembers their fond memories, her immense love for him.. He is left to live the aftermath and misses her..(intense angst) I think with your writing this will be loved by all.. Please consider this request.. Love you <3″

A/N: This was honestly such a hard one to write, imagining Henry to be like this honestly broke my heart, I was literally a sobbing mess the whole way through. This was very different for me but I’m glad I expanded my horizons and wrote this. I would say I hope you enjoy it but I don’t think it's appropriate.

Also I know you asked for it to be Henry’s gf but I started writing it and it became wife so sorry. Also I usually write my stories as “you” but I’ve been wanting to switch it up a little so my stories don’t seem too repetitive. 

Also I listened to Goner by Twenty One Pilots (one of my favourite bands) whilst writing this so if you wish to listen to that, to add to the mood, ’ve added it.

I love you all so much - L

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(if you would like to be added to my tag list, feel free to message me, if you are new to my blog then I post Henry Cavill fanfics and make Henry Cavill fake Instagram posts, my requests are open so feel free to request anything and I will try my best to make your vision come to   life. Edit: requests are still open but there might  be a delay as I am working my way through the current ones and all  other stories I am writing)

Broken : Henry Cavill Fan Fiction

Warnings: mentions of death, severe angst, crying and sobbing Henry. Please do not read this if you think it will impact your mental health. Mental health matters and always comes first. Here for anyone who needs to talk 

He had never believed in the idea of the human heart shattering into a million pieces... until he lost her. This dreadful event had been the downfall of his once perfect life. 

Darkness. That’s all his life was now, the existence of her had changed his life, she was his saviour, his salvation, but the loss of his one true love, that destroyed his life. She was the brightness even in the darkest of times and places. Everything he had loved before, he despised now, everything reminded him of the woman he once held in his arms, the one he was lucky enough to call his wife. He was convinced he would never be the same again, he felt like his heart had been combined with hers and when she left him, his heart left him too. He hadn’t expected this, he had expected to grow old with her, have 4 or 5 children and several grandchildren to carry on the couples legacy. She had promised him that’s what would happen. She vowed to love him until their final days, and he had underestimated when that day would be.

Here he sat, in their garden, a cigarette between his fingers, bringing it up to his lips and taking a deep puff, the tar slipping down his throat and coating his lungs with filth, she’d scold him if she were here... but she wasn't. He knew it was bad for him, but he didn’t care anymore. He needed an escape, he didn’t want to feel anymore, he wanted all the agony and anguish to disappear, leave him like she had.

God knows why he blames himself but he does. She had her whole life left ahead of her and this cruel world stripped that from her, removed all opportunities for the both of them to live a full and happy life together.

“I miss you my love” he says, to the sky, the darkness perfectly resembling himself, the stars in the sky seemed to be dimmed, apart from one, which was glistening brightly. He had decided that was her, watching down from heaven. Heaven was another thing he hadn’t believed in until his world collided with hers. She was this angelic being and had to have fallen from heaven, there was no other explanation to her beauty, her perfect personality, one in which complimented that of his wonderfully. She was the kind of person that bettered those around her, made them whole, made them purer. 

Tears emptied from his eyes and he sighed, his hand which was holding his cigarette thrusting into his deep curls, curls he hadn’t washed or brushed in weeks. He didn’t think he could cry anymore, but here he was, water running down his face like a flood, amplifying his red and bloodshot eyes, the deep and bruising bags underneath his eyes a reminder of his soul crushing pain. His hand moved back down, slipping the tip of the cigarette back in between his lips, sucking it.

“God I fucking miss you baby” he says, his voice completly broken, he sounded like a character in a show or film, a different person alltogether and he supposes he is now he’s without his wife. He hears a knock on the door and swears, picking up the ash tray and walking with it, inside his house, where he plods to the door, swinging it open and seeing her best friend.

“Fucking hell Henry” she says as she sees him, the lead in her hands attahced to the collar around his dogs neck, Kal looks up at him making him turn away, even Kal reminds him of her and he can’t deal with him at the moment, hence why her best friend was looking after him. She closes the door behind her, following his trail back outside, releasing Kal from his collar, letting him roam the house.

“Thought you’d want to see Kal” she says, sitting outside with him, it was freezing and dark but she bared it, picking up his pack of cigarettes and taking one for herself.

“You don't smoke” he grunts, flicking the ash at the end of the cigarette into the ashtray.

“Neither do you” she quips back, making him raise his eyebrows, putting out the cigarette as it reaches its end, pulling one from his packet and lighting it instantly, needing his lungs to be filled with the poison.

“If she saw us now” her friend says, making him sigh, more tears falling down his face.

“Fuck” he says, wiping them away, the last thing he needed was her friend seeing him completly destoryed, she would for sure tell his family and hers and that would damage him even more.

“Henry” she says, sympathy laced in her voice.

“I miss her so fucking much” he says, making her reach forward and take his hand.

“Me too” she says, not knowing what to say, but she squeezes his hand, making him tear it back not wanting the attention.

“You don't understand,” he says, making her scorn him.

“Of course I don’t. It’s not as if she was my best friend. For fuck sake Henry, I’m trying to be here for you, its what she wanted” she said, looking away, her eyes landing on that same twinkling star, taking a puff from the cigarette.

“Well she’s not fucking here so who the fuck cares” he spits.

“Amazing. She wouldn’t have wanted this” she says, standing up, taking one last puff of her half used cigarettes, stubbing it out before leaving him.

“Wait” he says, stopping her in her tracks, she looks back, her eyes falling over his face, tears now streaming down his face, she walks over to him and his hands reach out to her, they’ve never done this but she knows he needs it, so she wraps his arm around him, his tears sinking into her shirt as his head rests against her.

“I’m so sorry” she says, tears springing in her eyes too.

“I can’t live without her” he sobs, his voice cracking making her heart ache for him.

“Henry” she says as she hears Kal crying behind her. Henry pulls away and looks at the dog, his face falling, the dog's large eyes looking into his.

“Hey buddy” he utters half heartedly and the dog walks up to where he’s sat outside, Henry puts out his cigarette and his hands begin to pet the dog's head.

“He’s had his hair cut” he says, making the friend nod.

“Yeah, he needed it, I know she usually takes him on Monday’s so I thought I’d take him” she says making Henry frown.

“Shit, did you tell Caroline?” he says, talking about the groomer she usually takes Kal to.

“Yeah” her friend says, a frown on her face too.

“I forgot to tell her.” he says.

“It’s okay, it’s the last thing you needed to remember” she says, referring to the long list of people Henry had to notify.

“We need to sort out the funeral, I can plan it if you’d like?” she says, making Henry shake his head, still petting his dog.

“No that’s okay, I should do it” he says, his voice breaking as he sobs loudly again.

“Henry, she'd hate to see you like this” she says, her hand gesturing to the man whose features looked uncanningly like another person.

“Well she’s not fucking here is she?!!” he shouts making her friend flinch.

“Sorry” he utters, dropping his head into his hands.

“I just wanna be alone” he says.

“No you don’t” she says, dropping down to her knees, placing her hands on his knees so she’s level with his face.

“Talk to me, she asked me to be here for you and that’s what I tend to do” she says caringly.

“Well I don’t fucking want you here, I want her and she’s fucking dead” he shouts, knocking her back, her hands landing on  one of Kal’s paws making him yelp.

“Shit, I’m sorry” he says, to her best friend and to Kal.

“I’ll just fuck off then” she says, giving up. The dog looks longingly at his dad as she storms inside, before she comes back with the lead clipping it onto the dogs collar, slamming the door as she leaves the house.

“Fuck” he shouts, standing up from his chair. He walks back inside, looking around his house. His hands land on a vase containing flowers from his mother and he throws it aggressively against the wall, the noise ringing out dramatically in the empty house. It smashes against a picture on the floor, the picture falling loudly to the floor, the glass from the vase and the frame smashingly loudly making him swear.

“Shit” he says, walking over the picture frame, picking it up, the shards cutting his hand, but he doesn’t flinch at the pain, no amount of pain could hurt more than that in his heart. His fingers push the remaining shards of glass off the picture, revealing a picture of him and his wife on their wedding day. A small smile appears on his face as he scans her face, she looks genuinely ecstatic, that's how he will always remember her. His lips are pressed against hers and he carries her down the aisle, a smile against her lips and he remembers the moment like it was yesterday. It was the best day of his life, their friends and family were there to celebrate the union of the couple, it was the day she promised to love him forever, promised to be his faithful and loving companion until death does she part.

“We didn’t know it would be so soon huh love?” he says, chuckling despite it being far from funny. He places the frame down, deciding to clean the glass up later, he no longer had the dog to worry about and he didn’t care if he got hurt by the sharp shards. 

His eyes drift to the other pictures that frame the walls, the one he had taken of her at their honeymoon, her naked body completely covered by the beach water, the waves crashing against the shore perfectly, making for the perfect picture, she had that same smile on her face and Henry’s lips lift up momentarily at the sigh.

“So beautiful” he says, looking at the picture.

The next is a picture he had taken of Kal attacking the beauty with kisses.

“That was taken after the first time we shagged '' he says to himself, chuckling at the memory. Laughing loudly when he remembers all the times she cringed when he used the word shag. They had shut the dog out wanting to save him from the sight of the two of them making love. Henry had gotten up moments after the wonderful moment when he heard his dog crying at the door, he had opened the door and Kal had jumped up on the bed, kissing her face as soon as he saw her, Henry had picked up his phone almost immediately, he remembers framing the picture on the wall but she had taken it down to cut part out (because her breasts were in the picture). 

He looks at the next picture and he thinks this might just be his favourite, it was a picture of her being carried by his brothers, they had played a game of rugby and Henry was worried she would get hurt but she beat his team and his brothers picked her up to celebrate her winning the final shot. They were all laughing and so was she.

“Oh how I loved your laugh baby” he says. He walks to the kitchen, grabbing the first aid kit from the cupboard and quickly cleaning and wrapping the wound, before  picking up a notepad she kept there, finding a fluffy pen she used and he began writing.

“My love,

No words can truly express how much I miss you, no words can describe my pain. So I’m not going to speak about that. I’m going to talk about how amazing you were, how amazing you will always be. The moment you walked into my life, I knew I was done for. You turned my word upside down baby. I know you were the one the moment I met you, I knew when you said my name for the first time, I knew when we kissed for the first time and every time since, when it felt like fireworks. In films we constantly see these epic ideas of love and me being the pessimist that I am never believed in them. But then I met you. And oh baby did that change. Our love was epic, and it always will be. I remember the first time you met my family, you were so nervous, you bit your lip so much that it bled. But the moment they met you, they loved you, you became one of us, that was the moment I knew I wanted to be your husband. I remember being so excited to meet your parents, because I was so curious to meet the people who shaped you into the wonderful person you are… were. I remember asking you to marry me and I was so fucking happy when you said yes, the moment you became my life will always be the best thing that has ever happened to me. And part of me is convinced that it’s the best thing to happen to anyone, anywhere. I will forever be grateful for the time I had with you but boy do I wish we had more time. I will love you forever and a piece of me will always be absent. I ask you to look over me. Heaven is one lucky place because now they have you. I was and always be your husband, your Henry. This world has no idea how lucky it was to have you, you will forever be the love of my life and I will continue to count my lucky stars, everyday baby.

Forever yours,

Henry

[planetesastraea]

Just Light and Noises, Dear

Read on AO3 - "It's always like this. When the sun shines, you can’t be stopped. When flowers bud, you flirt your way up to the shore and when they wither, you ride back inwards on paths covered with leaves. You find inspiration in these dying things. Thunder, though - thunder brings regret."

Written for Witcher Writers' June prompt: Thunderstorm.

-

Watching the coast line from the inn's doorstep, Jaskier shivered. Another flash broke the sky into two and he closed his eyes, counting out of habit  1, 2, 3, 4,  before thunder made itself heard again. It growled from afar as a warning, a second sooner than before.  I am coming.

The rain was beating the cobblestones at a ferocious rhythm. If the few steps leading to the inn's front door were probably responsible for more than a few drunkenly twisted ankles, their existence made entirely sense at the sight of the puddles growing fast on the small street.

In the early morning the good people of Rochelle had risen from bed and started working. The wind was turning, they said. The storm will hit today.

Every week since the beginning of the season a group of townspeople had gone off to check on the dykes. Around the small town any shallow ditch had been dug deeper, any fallen tree moved away from the rivers, all to ensure that the rain would find its path back to the ocean.

Cattle had been secured, wobbly windows had been boarded, and the people who could not help outside had spent the day hard at work so that everyone would get a hot meal tonight - and so that none of the children would wander off.

Now everyone had settled in, gathering the youngest and the elderly by the hearth of their homes for tales and songs over the sound of thunder.

Under the porch at the back of the inn, Jaskier could still hear the music going. He was thankful that he wasn't the only one in town capable of telling a good story. The last few days before reaching Rochelle had rather been on the quiet side and performing every night to pay for his stay had been an abrupt change of pace. His voice was grateful for a moment of rest and the tip of his fingers welcomed the cool droplets of ale slipping down the side of his tankard.

"Don't worry, bard!" the innkeeper said as she stood next to him on the threshold. "It won't flood forever. Give it a few days and you'll be back on the road."

Marga wasn't technically the innkeeper; her daughter was doing the actual innkeeping work. The inn had been passed on from one generation to the next for longer than people could remember, welcoming lost sea crews and wandering travellers.

Marga didn't do much of the housekeeping anymore, her bones aching too much for washing dishes, her back too bent to deal with the sheets upstairs. But she was keeping the inn - quite literally, keeping it alive with her wits and keeping it safe from idiots and drunkards who would try and disturb people's peace when they needed a hot meal and a roof.

"I'll be staying a bit longer actually," Jaskier answered. The elderly woman watched him from where she stood. She was two heads smaller than him and yet it felt like he needed to look up to reach her eyes; as if she was surveilling the world from the height of the many years that now were behind her.

"Didn't you say you were staying until the new moon?"

Jaskier’s eyebrows raised and he smiled carefully. “I did."

"Maybe you forgot to look at the night sky, bard, but that was a few days ago," she said, eyes piercing.

Straightening against the doorway, Jaskier tried making himself stand a little more decently while still keeping his shoulders relaxed and his stance casual. He couldn’t figure out what to do with his hand and the whole thing ended up feeling terribly awkward. He cleared his voice. "Have I overstayed my welcome, Marga?"

"No, no," she said, waving off the thought. "I'm just wondering. What does a young man like you find attractive in staying in a small town like ours."

"Ah," was all he could answer.

"You're always singing about adventures, travels or court matters. One would think you’d miss these. Or that they'd miss you."

Jaskier hummed, his eyes finding focus on the smallest bubbles in the foam of his ale.

"I don't think they do," he said quietly.

Marga sighed. "Ah, you, poets. You’re like birds, aren’t you? Always moving with the weather!"

"Pardon?"

"It's always like this. When the sun shines, you can’t be stopped. When flowers bud, you flirt your way up to the shore and when they wither, you ride back inwards on paths covered with leaves. You find inspiration in these dying things. Thunder, though - thunder brings regret."

Jaskier laughed, startled. “And how do you know so much about poets?”

Marga eyed him from the corner of her eyes and he might have seen a playful light in them. “As you may have noticed, I was not born yesterday.”

Jaskier smiled at her, the pressure of the air closing in on his chest. Maybe she was right. Maybe thunder brought regrets.

He felt an urge to take a step outside in the wind and let the rain wash over him.

"Maybe I was just thinking of the people out there,” he said instead, shrugging. “In the storm, I mean. There must be some. I just hope they find shelter somewhere."

"Right,” she said. “As I was saying.  Regret ."

A sudden flash lit up her profile, obscuring her deeper lines and drawing shadows on her grey-pale face, making her a sight of horror tales. Jaskier took a sharp breath in, refusing to acknowledge a startle, and shook his head as he looked away.

“I’ll tell you what I tell the children,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “It’s just a storm, dear. It’s wind and rain and hail and clouds, nothing we’ve never seen before.”

“And thunder.”

“What?”

“You forgot the thunder.”

Marga huffed, her fingers clenching around his arm.

"I'll tell you what thunder is. Once in a while, hot wind comes up from the south and cold wind descends from the north. And when they meet-" Thunder clapped and a voice at the back of Jaskier’s head envied the perfection of Marga’s timing. "-a thunderstorm happens! The winds start going insane, light shatters through the sky and that noise booms through the continent!” Her tone softened. “But that's all there is, dear. Lights and noises. A performer like you should know. It's just a big show. You wait long enough and it dies down."

Jaskier sniffed and nodded.

“And then it’s water under the bridge, uh?”

“Quite literally, yes,” she said.

“And what if- what if it isn’t?” A wave of anger washed over him. “What if it floods and- and- what if the thunder hits a forest and everything catches fire? What if homes get destroyed and roads disappear and friendships of twenty years get broken, what happens then?” he stammered.

Marga waited a moment before she answered. The wind caught one of her white curls and made it dance against her cheek.

“Everything can be fixed, dear. And everything worth fixing should be.”

Jaskier sighed and closed his eyes against the mist. His eyes returned to the horizon, the dark blurry line of the coast barely visible through the night. Steady, the rain kept going.

“Maybe I’ll leave in a few days. Once the roads are clear.”

Marga hummed. “Get back inside before you catch death, will you?” she said and disappeared through the doorway.

Jaskier watched her leave and fought a shiver.

A flash of light appeared again and he counted.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

The storm was moving away.

Maybe he’d leave in a few days, once the roads were clear.

Or maybe a bit before that. His boots had walked some muddy paths, they could go through some more.

-

Tagging a bunch of peeps for a lil boost, let me know if you want to be on / off the list :)

@oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co @lovelyrita1967 @teresa-of-ficwill @whispered-story @fangirleaconmigo @myidlehand @alllthequeenshorses

[hoefette]

All the petty things I hate about fate!winx and their shitty universe/world building because

I'd added most if these in tags of other posts but I'm still so mad lmao

The way characters, Aisha and Mrs Dowling specifically make references to explicitly human or American things like instagram and Harry Potter

These people are from a different dimension for ffs why are they concerned with or are even aware of this very earth-specific shit? Do they teach earth classes at school over there?

I understand not wanting to have them be oblivious so Bloom wouldn't have to explain it to them, but it simply could be ✨omitted✨

Why would you go out of your way to date your work like this lmao ew

Ms. Dowling calling Tinkerbell an air fairy.. I cannot breeve with the stupidity why did they keep that in there

Why is Ms. Dowling.. the headmistress.. teaching classes? Where are the other teachers?

We ended up with a trio of antagonists (I guess you could call them that?) by the end of the season anyway so why not give us the trix, why have the characters play double roles as friends of our protagonists and also the villains/bullies? They clearly wanted a delinquent trio, in which case they could've gender bent the trix if they wanted to keep all the unnecessary sexual tension.

It just feels like the production team was lazy, they didn't want to hire more actors, they didn't want to bother with making the world immersive or lived in or believable at best, they just didn't give enough of a fuck

They wanted to make this show and attatch Winx to it for.. what? Like did you even google the main plot points? The abridged version or sparknotes to get details on the very literal, basic characteristics of our main characters or their roles or the world they inhabit????

It lacks wonder and intrigue.. I mean Bloom moves to another dimension, a school for fairies and we don't see her marvel once at anything.. and that's because she might as well have been in Switzerland because she's in exactly the same environment she would've been in over there anyway.

They could've said Alfea was in Europe and I'd believe it because nothing about the setting makes it feel otherworldly. I'm sorry but I'm not impressed.

Why do the teachers and graduated specialists communicate via facetime ?? In the magic dimension. ??? Why do they text each other and those texts then appear on screen like .. oh look, like a bad netflix teen movie ????? HELLO ??? it's the way technology and magic could've blended in so seamless into the world THE WAY IT WAS ALREADY DONE/SHOWN. Missed opportunity. it just takes you out of it imo every time you see the ugly, bland, gray text bar. Some fucking flavour pls I'm begging

How stupid the specialist must feel clonking around with the skinniest shreds of armor, plastic swords on their backs and battery powered flashlights and cellphones in their bags. R we larping?? I know I'd be laughing and asking why we hadn't already come up with something more effective .. idk like guns. I'm surprised I ain't see one gun in there.

In the beginning Ms. Dowling says some nonsense about fairies having lost the ability to transform to explain why there are no wings, which means they could've transformed before. So are we to assume that this supposed to be set in the time proceeding the original then?? Because something is not adding up with where they should be as a magical society technologically if that's the case

How does the production team want to keep the dark academia vibes with torches lining the walls and also want them to be face timing each other, presumably from miles and miles away in the dark forest???

Pls pick an aesthetic and stick to it everything was so unnecessarily dark. Where do they charge their phones since it's the only device we see that is the slightest bit modern and dont fucking tell me they charge it with magic I will punch you in the face

Why is there only one major monarchy that we are shown? Why are Solaria the only ones contributing to the efforts to defend the school and where is this mysterious battalion we never see lmaoo it's all so bad its laughable.

Is this set in the kingdom of Solaria? And why does the queen of an alleged interdimensional superpower monarchy pull up in black SUVs??????????? Why does she pull up with Andreas?? Is he not the king of Erakleon?? Where are his soldiers and his battalion and just?? Huh!? The world just feels empty like nobody lives here fr

Are we supposed to believe that the specialists get paired up with fairies just as a normal occurence and that they have to 'trust each other' and not because the plot demands it suddenly half way through when all we've seen so far are the fairies doing normalish school and homework, and the specialists outside, being physical everyday all day. This was never even implied that they'd have to work together apart from when we see the faculty as youngins with Rosalind. But even then.. it's like well why are they even together lmao? Is this a special team formed from Rosalind’s protégées? Were they formed after graduating from Alfea or what is this?? Are they the ONLY team of specialist/fairies hunting every single burned one?? What?

Are we now supposed to buy that Musa is being switched to 'support' because that's where her strengths lie and not in combat?? Are we supposed to believe that these girls know hand to hand combat?? When was this established? We see Terra wrapping some baby vines around a dude and I'm sorry is that the practical application of her power? Is this what the fairies are supposed to do once they graduate? Or is it just a switch in curriculum because of the threats outside the barrier?? This is never made clear.

Because if not then what's the point of this?? Why do they suddenly have endless classes together when the expectation was never set for the fairies to be like soldiers or out in the field fighting ?

Where exactly are they supposed to be what was the purpose of including Aster Dell and why is it a joy ride away from Alfea lmao?? Where Bloom is from and also not from?? Plot pls make it make sense

Why are fairies from another dimension vaping or smoking weed?? They are not human so why are they engaging in specifically human vices, yol couldn't come up with anything else to characterize 'delinquents'?? Very lazy very como se dices.. no effort. Nothing a little more spicy yol could invent, at least change the name and some properties holy shit did yol even try ??

So its fairies everywhere, having a lil party in the east wing of a phat castle.. and they are playing beer pong and dressed in t shirts and jeans..

Can you hear me screaming? Can you hear me vibrating with rage?

Not one floating decoration or magical anything in sight. Just purple lights and subpar vibes

Stella's costume design: tragic. I won't discuss further because we don't have the space or time but just know that it was absolutely atrocious and I hated it. Giving very debutante vibes

The entire budget going to that lame transformation sequence that was not a transformation sequence and those horrible, barely-there fire wings

Edgelord bloom and all her fucking leather jackets. Why do 30 yo, white cis men think girls exist in a binary? They could keep her earlier characterization and make her a hothead.. Bloom literally screamed herself into a couple power upgrades in the original come ooonnnn

Let girls be feminine without it being a character flaw what is wrong with yol its 2021. They could make her more mature, more angsty or whatever the hell else and not style her like that

The way Aisha's abilities flipflop between episodes and scenes. Very inconsistent. One minute she's struggling with a drop of water and the next she is moving an entire body of water for her bestie Bloom to fake transform because the plot demands it. Why even add in her struggles at all if you're just going to ignore it?

Why was Stella with them in that scene? She didn't do anything literally.. Aisha pulled the water and she did .. nothing.

Who the fuck is Rosalind? Why would they add her in,, to add nothing to story? The company of light was a thing, they could've plucked one of them hoes to be the antagonist. Why did the winx club need their own Delores Umbridge? Valtor was right there if you wanted an evil educator type character.

The camera work was so bland during the down beats, stagnant and fixed during a fairy party and erratic and ugly and disorienting during the fight scenes

I'm not getting over the fairy party because it was a good opportunity for the production and everyone else to show the differences between where Bloom was and where she is now but instead it just looks like a regular teen high school party?? This could have been set in Switzerland fr.

Everyone's just kind of standing?? You mean to tell me these people are from all different places in the magical dimension and their customs are all the same? They all throw parties like this ??

White and flavorless I am very bored

I guess the main question or takeaway I have is just.. who is this for? Because everyone, including the showrunners keep saying that it's for us, the fans of the original. But apart from the characters sharing some names, there are really no other similarities. So again, who was this supposed to appease or placate or satisfy? Because it sure as hell wasn't the winx club fans.

Overall, this feels very much like something I wrote and probably published on ff.net when I was 13 because I thought girls couldn't be taken seriously if they liked pink, and injected angst into everything that didn't need it and had no idea how to structure scenes or dialogue. It's just bad, objectively and N*tflix will keep making shit like this because apparently some people have bad taste??? Idk yol, be easy

[xpao-bearx]

Part 1 HERE

NOTE: OMG I really wasn't expecting for the previous first part of Heavenly Sins to blow up as it did, but I just wanted to give a huuuge THANK YOU to all of you amazing folks!! 🥰🥰🥰 Your support truly means so fooken much to trashy ol' meh and y'all are the reason I am writing this story series in the first place :')

I do have my ideas, but I still don't know much yet of what to do or even how long (or short) this story will get. So, if you would continue to give me your mindblowing support, it would seriously mean the W O R L D.

I do, however, very much enjoy writing Negan in particular so far. He's one of my absolute fave characters ever and JEFFREY DEAN FUCKIN' MORGAN NEED I SAY MOAR?!? 🥵💕💕

But this second part will be focusing a bit more on our beloved sheriff Ricky boi! Of course, Daryl will also get some much deserved love and attention tho I think he will appear in the story a lil later on.

Also, if you ever feel compelled, you are more than welcome to take some inspo from this story and make your own imagines and such! I'd love to see 'em, so please tag me 😁

P.S. There won't always be long ass notes like this, only if I wanna say something or bring up whatever is important. Also, if you wanna be tagged on any new/future story parts, then just tell moi and I will dedicate the latest one to the people who wanted to be tagged!

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @buttercandy16 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 2

After your little spiel, you haven't spoken to Negan since then. But on the way home after church, you passed by his house and found him tinkering away on his motorcycle (which you previously learned he interestingly named Lucille) in the garage. Not being able to help yourself, you paused in your tracks and just curiously watched him for a while.

His leather jacket was off, revealing a plain white t-shirt. The shirt was quite tight, and you noted how it perfectly hugged the taut muscles of his chest. Your eyes then slowly trailed to his toned arms, adorned by tattoos you wished you had a better look at. He stopped briefly, placing his tools down before grabbing the hem of his shirt and wiping the sweat on his forehead.

You didn't even think twice as your eyes dropped, hyperfocused on his abs. He wasn't the buffest guy out there, but he was lean and fit and--to put it bluntly--hot. A part of you screamed bloody murder to get a grip on yourself, to just turn your stiff body around and proceed on home. But another part completely squashed down those protests without even a fight; as if your pathetic excuse of a resolve wasn't even meant in the first place.

"Take a goddamn picture, darlin'. It'll last longer."

Your head snapped up, meeting the tantalizing hazel stare of Negan. His lips were curled in a smug smirk, and nevermore in your entire life have you wanted to both slap and kiss someone so badly.

But you only clicked your tongue, shooting him a sharp glare before (at last!) turning and walking away as you hid your blush. In the distance, his amused chuckle begrudgingly sounded like the sweetest fucking music to your ears.

♡♡♡

You woke up at 7:05 a.m. like you typically did the next morning, Monday. It was the dawn of a new week, and while most people dreaded it you actually didn't mind it so much. You had your job to thank for that.

Sure, it wasn't always easy, but it was worth it in the end. You loved teaching and spending time with the children, and you were even more ecstatic since you knew Judith was going to be at the daycare.

As you finished eating breakfast and preparing for the day, you grabbed your bag then went out the door. You opted to walk again today, the weather far too beautiful to miss plus the daycare really wasn't that far away.

Eventually arriving at your destination, you approached the daycare building's doors with a little spring in your step. Once inside, a young woman with her blonde hair high in a ponytail smiled and waved.

"Hi, Y/N! Goodmorning!" Beth Greene greeted energetically.

"Morning, Beth." You chuckled, the girl's radiant smile infectious. You've known Beth for some time now, especially since the Greenes were one of the oldest families in Alexandria and they were well respected. But you got along best with Beth, you thought she was the friendliest and she was also the latest hire of the daycare.

Stashing your bag away in your personal locker, you fixed yourself up a bit before getting your nametag and sticking it on your top. Looking up at the wall clock, you read that it was 7:50 a.m. Perfect, just in time for the kids' drop-offs.

You waited outside with Beth and the rest of the daycare workers, until finally the parents started rolling in. It was the usual; some of the children were wailing, snot snivelling down their nose as their embarrassed parents tried to tug them away from clinging onto their legs. You could only offer a sympathetic smile as you tried to help, while other children were much more relaxed and didn't even spare a second glance at their parents as they were dropped off.

"Well, that's about all of them." Beth piped up.

"Wait, we're still waiting for Judith." You said, searching for the toddler. "Rick said she'd be here."

Beth checked her watch, her brows creasing a little in worry. "That's odd. Sheriff Grimes is never late when he's dropping Judith off."

Just as she said that, there was a honk that disrupted the peace. You and Beth both spotted a crying Judith being held by Lori, the woman appearing utterly exhausted before her eyes locked with yours and didn't waste another second dashing towards you.

"Please don't run when you're holding Judith. Also, no honking is allowed on the premises." It was hard for you to keep the malice out of your voice, but you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back since you miraculously managed to not make it sound the worst it could get.

Lori raised a brow at you, but only handed Judith over to you. Judith immediately quieted down when she saw it was you, you cooing gently at her as she giggled and snuggled up comfortably against your chest.

"Rick will be picking her up later." Was all Lori said, pressing a quick peck on Judith's curly little head before parting ways. As Lori rushed back to the car, you saw Shane in the driver's seat shamelessly attack her neck with fervent kisses and you couldn't restrain an eyeroll.

"Fucking bitch..." You grumbled.

"Uh-oh. Bad!" Judith giggled again, clapping her hands gleefully.

"Right, right. Bad. Don't copy me, okay?" You laughed, completely forgetting about your aggravation as you rubbed your nose with Judith's and went inside.

♡♡♡

The rest of the day rolled along splendidly. No one threw a tantrum and for the most part, all the kids properly shared the wide assortment of toys and even did their activities orderly and on time. So, you decided to indulge them with a small yet much sought after reward.

Painting.

When it comes down to children, painting can be utter chaos. But you figured since they were being so good, you'd allow it. At the daycare you worked in, painting was quite a rare occurrence and that only solidified how much the kids adored it.

Once the materials were set out, it was a dizzying flurry of excited hands grabbing anything it could latch on to. As the kids went about doing their creative business, you found Judith all alone sitting in the corner playing around with some blocks.

"Whatcha doin' there, Judi?" You asked, sweetly calling out her nickname. "You don't wanna paint?"

"I wanna, but not with papers." She replied, shaking her head.

"Oh? Then where do you wanna paint?"

"I wanna paint on faces, but no one wants me to!"

"If that's the case, then I'd be more than happy to let you paint my face." You smiled.

"Really?!" Judith's whole face lit up, jumping up and wrapping her tiny arms around you as tightly as she could. "Thank youuu!"

You chuckled, ruffling her hair and watching as she happily gathered some paint and brushes.

♡♡♡

It was finally the end of a long day, and your face felt a bit itchy from the paint Judith put on you. But it didn't matter; as long as the little girl was happy, it was the best damn day ever.

You were holding Judith's hand as you waited outside for Rick to pick her up, and once he came up with his car Judith beamed.

"Daddy!"

"Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a nice day?" His face looked tired, his greying beard making him appear slightly older than he really was, but his smile was genuine as he carried Judith in his strong arms.

"The bestest! Y/N lemme paint her face!"

"She did, huh? What did you pai--oh my god."

You bursted into laughter at his reaction, flashing him a toothy grin. "In the words of Judi: You're a pretty tiger! Grr!"

"Now that you mention it, I can see it." Rick joined in your laughter, nodding his head. "Looks like we've got a talented lil artist in our hands!"

"Daddy, I wanna paint your face next! You can be daddy tiger and Y/N can be mommy!" Judith proclaimed.

You and Rick flushed pink at the same exact time, but Rick was quick to clear his throat and change the topic. "A-Anyways, Y/N, how 'bout me and the kids give you a ride? Thank you for today, by the way."

"No problem, and sure! Thanks so much."

As you settled in the passenger's seat, two hands covered your eyes from behind. "Guess who~?"

"Hmm..." You hummed, making a show of thinking. "Are you an elf?"

"No!" The hands were removed, Carl popping his head out from the backseat to look at you as he laughed. "It's me!"

"Oh, sorry! You're just so short, I thought you were an elf." You teased good naturedly.

Carl huffed, sticking his tongue out at you. "Y'know, in a few years, I'll be way taller than you!"

Once Rick was done buckling Judith into her carseat, he took his place in the driver's seat and drove out of the premises. You just talked about anything that came to mind: work, the weather, Alexandria's local shops, etc. To anyone else, maybe it seemed like regular boring conversation. But speaking with Rick was truly one of the highlights of any of your days. He was extremely easy to talk to, and he never failed to cheer you up. And it was obvious Rick was the same. He was allowed to simply be himself around you; to loosen up, momentarily forget about the stress and sometimes even the woes that came along with being the town's upstanding sheriff.

As you were nearing your home, Carl decided to cut in.

"Y/N, can we stay at your house? It's been a while since we had a sleepover." Carl asked, his baby blue eyes identical to Rick's alight with hope.

It wouldn't be the first time Rick and the kids would be staying over. You were very close to the Grimes family, sometimes even almost considering them as your own. You didn't mind it. Since you lived alone, it can get pretty lonely. And having people around surely brightened up the house and made you keep your sanity.

"I don't mind, but you gotta ask your dad." You chuckled.

Carl turned to Rick, pouting and giving his best puppy dog eyes. Rick rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress an inkling of a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. But let me drop you and Judith off with Y/N first. I'll be back, I just need to get some extra clothes and essentials."

"YAY!" Carl cheered, Judith following suit as they both raised their arms and hollered.

"You're so whipped for them." You laughed, shaking your head as you looked at Rick.

"I ain't denying that." He sighed dramatically, grinning.

[sylvie-writes]

Bad: The Unfortunate Ending

Inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella

(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)

A/n: this is my first attempt at angst so here we go... 

Disclaimer: not part of my fall writing, this is just a lil something bc I needed to write, it makes me happier after days as today. 

Warnings: Cheating, mild profanity, shitty angst & writing. Ransom being an asshole (rip all the soft Ransom stories I’ve written)

Series Masterlist

Never in a thousand years would you have seen yourself sitting in Boston’s most expensive and high end restaurant, a steak simmering at 500 degrees laying out in front of you, and the Ransom Drysdale sweetly smiling at you.

“Wait, before you start eating, I have something to ask you, love.” 

Was he gonna break up with you?

Ransom reached over his plate to reach your hand gently bringing it to his lips while maintaining eye contact with your shocked expression, soon calming.

Oh whew.

The man then set down your hand, and folded up the napkin in his lap before rounding the table, getting down on one knee. Your eyes were already welling up with tears, making it impossible to see all the people staring at you and Ransom.

“(y/n) (l/n)...

… … ...

Will you marry me?” 

After his adoring speech, the four little words came out and the man on his knee was staring up at you like you were a goddess. Overwhelmed, you happily spewed out the words of acknowledgement while Ransom slipped the lavish diamond onto your ring finger, kissing the now ringed finger before scooping you up from your chair, the two of you in a deep kiss amidst the cheers.

A few months later the two of you got married, and everything was a dream. You had a lovely house, and a husband who was practically your closest friend. The two of you spent all your time together, told every joke, talked all the time. Believe or not but Mr. Fancy Pants had preferred that you got married sooner rather than having an extravagant wedding ceremony. 

So that's what you did. One lovely Monday morning, you and Ransom drove to the courthouse, in the beamer, as if it were just any other day. 

You thought then and there, that this was it. Life was finally playing in your favor...

 All the little gifts you gave

I call it over compensating

Feeling just like a princess

Every answer was always yes

You had me living in a dream

 “Oh Ransom!” You played with the little puppy down at your feet, a red ribbon adoring it’s small, yet fluffy neck.The little thing jumped into your arms, causing you to lift off the floor, walking closer to Ransom. 

“Why did you get me a puppy, Hugh?” 

He just cheekily smiled and shrugged, walking by to kiss your cheek. “No reason!” 

You just laughed it off before going outside to play fetch with the energetic fur baby. 

Ransom always treated you for no reason, at times you really hated him for it, but not once would he ever let up.

About four months into your marriage, Harlan had invited you and Ransom to some writer’s charity gala, a black and white party, meaning Ransom was gonna rent a tux and you’d find an overly priced yet attractive dress. 

So, one Saturday afternoon, you and Ransom went to the mall, getting fitted for your clothes. You weren’t about the name brands like Ransom was, but today, Ransom now had full advantage to shower you in expensive clothing having already picked his tux yesterday. His sneaky little plan to go dress shopping with you.

“What about this one?” Your husband held up a black slip dress designed by Prada. Curiously you walked up to him, checking the tag to see its $1,000 price. In all honesty, from the looks of the dress, you had assumed Ransom picked up a simple dress. Sure, it was pretty but you weren’t about to pay that much just for the name. For what it is worth, you could sew and tailor the damn thing yourself. 

“That’s ridiculous, Ransom. I’m not about to pay that much.” 

You went to go walk off before you felt Ransom’s hot breath in your ear.

“Who said you were paying?”

Turning around, you playfully pushed him in the chest to which he laughed and peppered kisses all over your face.

“Ransom! Stop, you’re making a scene!”

He pulled away for a minute, your giggles ceasing.

“Let me treat you and I will stop.”

Quickly, the man resumed his attack, your pleas soon becoming words of compliance.

“Fine!”

His signature smirk danced across his lips, while his free arm snaked around your waist ushering you to the tailor’s stand. 

 What's forever long to you

Did you say that to her too

Making sure that I'd never know

Callin her while the shower goes

 It was a little after midnight and Ransom wasn’t home yet, today he had been out with some friends, not inviting you. Your only company for the day was your precious little puppy, who was curled up against your stomach. The endless worry had kept you up all night as you mindlessly stroked the puppy’s back, trying to calm your own nerves.

Eventually, an hour later, the hallway light shone under the door, Ransom coming in. He was met with your worried look and came to rush over to your side.

“You scared me to death, Ransom. Two hours ago, you were supposed to be back!” 

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry baby. Now, get some sleep, I love you. Forever, my love.”

Ransom gently pulled the blanket over you, kissing you goodnight, then heading off to shower.

Turning on the shower, Ransom pulled the phone out of his pocket, scrolling to the bottom of his contacts and dialing, Blair❤️. 

“Hey baby, today was amazing Ranny!”

A deep chuckle left Ransom’s throat, the woman on the phone giggling.

“I know, angel. You are the best, love ya forever, Sweetheart.” 

Blair continued to gush over the phone, recalling the earlier events of the day at her house where Ransom had spent the whole day. (leaving that sentence to the eye of the beholder.)

Shower, and you, long forgotten, Ransom spent the rest of the night talking to the woman, leaving the bedroom to go downstairs, assuming you were already asleep.

Ironically, that night, you dreamt of all the times you and Ransom would stay up just talking and laughing...

Then crawl back in bed, it's a shame

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 It was 4 am, and Blair had fallen asleep on the phone, leaving Ransom to bid her goodbye and get some shut eye himself. 

It was like sleeping next to a stranger, the warmth of the bed now gone. Coldness, replacing the loving embrace.

About two months ago, your work gave its employees a week off for the holidays. It was once in a blue moon that you got to see your family, so you seized this opportunity. You wished your husband could have come, but Ransom had to stay behind to help Harlan with an upcoming novel. In truth, Ransom never saw himself reverting back to his bad ways, but who knows what entices people to change.

One night, Ransom went out for a drink, a young lady, about twenty-seven years old, came up to the sulking man. He was drowning his sorrows in a couple of beers, wishing he were there with you. Oh how he missed you!

“Hey stranger.”

The sultry voice hit too close to home for Ransom, a voice he knew all too well.

And let’s just say a few drinks later, he came to remember his old fling as Blair.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

It felt like you were living a hallmark movie, and never would you have thought any different.

Your feet were propped on the Ransom’s lap as the two of you laid down Uno cards on the coffee table. 

“Ransom?”

“Yes, darling?”

You set the Uno cards in your lap, adjusting on the couch so that you’d be straddling Ransom. The man brightly smiling at you, enveloping you with his muscular arms. In complete bliss, you leaned forward and kissed him, a slow and intimate kiss. Time completely stopped as you were just in your own little world. 

He treated you so well, you’d never be prepared for the heartbreak that’d ensue. 

 I wasn't catching on to you

Blinded by your lips so smooth

Excusing all of your gotta goes

Leaving me to be all alone

 “Do you really have to go, Ransom?” 

Your arms were wrapped around the man’s neck, pleading for him to stay. A small frown made a way onto his lips before he leaned in to kiss you deeply, pulling away from your lips while you were still trying to catch up. 

“I gotta go.”

With that, he rushed out. A business meeting was it? Or was it Harlan? You couldn’t remember. For the past two months, you’ve been accepting all of his excuses, soon all of them blending, yet in the end you were always left standing in the house, alone with your dog.

It's okay, you told yourself. Sure he forgot your birthday last month. It’s fine.

As long as he didn't forget your wedding anniversary next month, everything would be fine…

Right?

 Then you took my heart just the same

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 No it wasn’t fine. He forgot your anniversary. He forgot you. In the mornings, he’d no longer stay with you, instead finding an excuse to rush out, no kisses, not even hugs, Rarely did the two of you talk and soon, it became your new normal.

You should’ve known better.

 Every word you said you was sweet but you was lying

Everything you covered making up just to keep to me from crying

Another late night, Ransom had gone to help his mother at some dinner party for her business, or so he said. He left early this morning, claiming he was gonna help set up and that he’d be home by 8. Yet, here you are, watching the 11 o’clock news, waiting for your husband’s arrival since he had left you with radio silence all day.

Suddenly, the door flew open, a sloppily dressed Ransom, stumbling in, clearly piss-ass drunk.

“Oh you're awake!”

You walked over to help him sit on the couch, just as you were about to turn off the lamp beside the couch, you noticed a tint of red lipstick on Ransom’s lips. You hadn’t worn any lipstick today, right?

Tenderly, you traced your thumb over his lips, as his eyes gazed into yours.

“Ransom, what’s on your lips?”

In a poor attempt, Ransom went to grab your hand, missing and instead grabbing your shoulder, leaning in to kiss you, instead getting your ear. 

“It’s nothing, (y/n).” 

His head was laying on your shoulder, as he was about to fall asleep, his energy suddenly gone.

“Really? It seems like something, you have a woman’s lipstick on your lips for god sake!”

Ransom then perked up and hugged you tightly, whispering reassuring words to you. Drunkenly, his words mashed together, causing you to barely understand his “comforting” speech. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart, I’d never do that to you.”

Sweetheart, a name once reserved for you, now unknowingly shared with another woman.

Believing his lies, because why not? He had never given you a reason not to trust him, not yet anyway.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

 That very next week, Ransom had to leave once again, this time a boys’ trip to the club. You thought nothing of it, now used to his absence, keeping to yourself with the dog and some friends.

Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a sandwich and lemonade out on the front porch when a Maseratti pulled into the driveway, a familiar man stepping out.

“(y/n)! Is Ransom home?”

The man pulled you into an embrace, leaving you confused at his presence.

“Why are you here Oliver? Ransom said he was out with you and James.”

Oliver just shrugged his shoulders, he too jumping to the same conclusion. At this point you were just seeing red, storming into the house, Oliver following. You practically were stomping holes into the hallway for your footsteps were as heavy as your heart. Maybe all along you had been suspicious deep inside, maybe you just never wanted to believe it.

Then finding Ransom’s phone in his nightstand, you came back into the doorway to meet Oliver. If your suspicions were true, you’d like to at least embarrass the dumbass in front of his friend. They all knew he was a playboy at heart, but after you, every one had assumed he’d matured somewhat. 

Clearly, they were all wrong.

Your husband was the biggest idiot in the world, making his password your anniversary date, for he was so forgetful. You found this hilarious, because he forgot your first wedding anniversary, god you were so naive. 

Was this wrong? Sleuthing through his phone?

Sure. But it could never equal up to what you were about to find. 

Opening text messages, 50 unread, all from you, your messages definitely ignored as a woman named Blair was at the top of his messages. 

You gagged at the heart by her name, one that used to be by yours. Scrolling through the texts, you found yourself growing angrier by the minute, finally, you just lost it. With great vehemence, you slammed the phone against the floor, making it shatter everywhere, Oliver and your dog, slightly jumping.

It was then that it hit you.

You crashed to the floor, crying hysterically, as the world came crashing down with you. Oliver, crouching down on the floor, trying to calm your sobs.

Tonight you were gonna confront that backstabbing, no good, cheating son of a bitch.

 Tell me the truth

Was it worth it was I worth it for you

'Cause we were perfect we working til you

Forgot to tell me you been seeing someone else for six years

It was 9 pm and you hadn’t expected Ransom’s arrival for another hour or two, so you spent the time packing your bags and drinking some coffee, preparing yourself to tear the man a new one. 

This time, there wasn’t a slammed door signaling Ransom’s presence, rather soft footsteps and his low voice, like the old days.

Ha, the one time he gets home early. Ehh you were ready anyway

“Hey babe! Oooh can I have some?”

Before you could answer, Ransom took your mug and a few swigs of coffee, handing it back to you, placing a kiss on your head. In utter surprise, you looked up at the man who just smiled down at you.

“You look I haven’t kissed you in weeks, my love.”

And with that he pecked your lips quickly, walking to the counter, you still trying to process what had just happened. 

It was true. He hadn’t kissed you in weeks.

No, you weren’t gonna let him win this time.

“It’s because you haven’t.”

Confusion swirled around on Ransom’s face, allowing you to continue.

“You haven’t kissed me in weeks. But you have kissed Blair, I'm sure.” 

The coffee mug in his hand dropped onto his foot, shattering, leaving you smirking at the small victory.

Heartbreak can make one go insane. Afterall, you are losing the one person you loved most, losing yourself along with them. 

“For months I have put up with your bullshit…” 

A good ten minutes passed of you yelling at Ransom, the man unexpectedly letting you finish.

“You’re a cheating, son of a bitch.”

Angrily, you ripped off the wedding ring, now noticing Ransom wasn’t even wearing his, for god knows how long too. Once upon a time, he’d proudly wear it all the time.

“(y/n) wait--”

Ransom grabbed your arm before you slapped him, the man slightly stunned.

“No. I’m tired of your excuses, I’m tired of letting you win. You and Brittany, should have an amazing life together, that is if you can even commit to her like you told me.”

A whisper of defeat left his mouth.

“It’s Blair…”

“The hell with it! You broke my heart Ransom! I knew it was too fucking good to be true. DAMN IT, I LOVED YOU.”

Hysterically laughing, you looked like a mad woman, lowering your voice just a bit.

“You know what makes this hurt 2x worse? I thought you had actually loved me too, because it seemed like it.”

You broke into tears, your heart in a thousand pieces, rushing away to grab your bags, Ransom not even trying to fight, knowing you're too strong this time. He let the best thing that ever happened to him slip away. 

Ages ago you could remember the lovely times with the man you once would die for, yet...

Your love was just an illusion. 

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

I wish that you would've treated me bad

Truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

a/n: maybe i should stay away from angst bc this sucked.

Updated a/n: this is gonna be a series! If you’d like to be on the taglist lemme know!!

[wondersofdreaming]

Dumplings 101

Characters: Henry Cavill x female reader

Word count: 1.179

Warnings: Mentions of being sad, depressed, homesick. The rest is pure fluff.

Author’s note: I miss my mum so bad today, and I listened to ‘Homesick’ by Dua Lipa, which made me miss her even more.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader and her parents who are figments of my imagination.

Tag: @katerka88 @littlefreya @hell1129-blog @mitzwinchester @mary-ann84 @valkavill @sciapod @henry-cavlll @luclittlepond @iloveyouyen @trippedmetaldetector @radaofrivia @omgkatinka @gothwhopper @fcgrizi @alyxkbrl​ @singeramg​ @onlyhenrys​ @henrythickcavill​ @madbaddic7ed​ @palaiasaurus64​ @queenslandlover-93​ @magdelen69​ @shellbilee​ @mis-lil-red @vania-marie @tumblnewby

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It had been three years since you last saw your parents. They lived far away, while you had moved to London to study. You had ended up falling in love and stayed, even moving in with the man of your dreams.

You talked to your parents at least once a week through video chat and your mother texted you every day through a messenger app. She would send memes, jokes your dad had thrown at her that day, or simply just a message of love, telling you she missed and loved you.

You hadn’t felt homesick in a long time. But one day you were walking through Chinatown with Henry and the scents of the food reminded you of your mum’s cooking.

Henry, the sweet and caring attentive boyfriend, noticed you were feeling a bit gloomy and sad. He asked what was on your mind, and you would answer that you felt a little homesick.

A few weeks later he came home from grocery shopping, which had taken two hours longer than it used to. He walked into the kitchen and laid out all the ingredients he had bought.

“Ground pork, spring onions, garlic, coriander, chilli, ginger, Chinese cabbage. Honey, why have you bought these things?” You asked him curiously, watching him take out the flour and potato starch.

“You told me yesterday that you missed your mum’s dumplings, so we’re making some,” he smiled and reached at the top shelve for the largest bowl you owned.

A light went on in your head. All the ingredients matched perfectly with your mother’s dumpling recipe.

“Henry… did my mum give you her recipe?”

“Yes? Why?”

“She guards that recipe like a dragon protecting its treasure. How did you do it?”

“Well…”

The doorbell saved Henry from answering, as you went to open, puzzled by who it could be. Outside stood your parents.

“Mama?! Papa?! What are you doing here?” You hugged both and clung to them for dear life.

“Invite us in and we’ll tell you everything,” your father chuckled and patted your back. He waltzed inside and patted Kal, who happily wagged his bushy tail.

“What’s going on, Henry?” You asked him as he and your father shook hands.

“Your sweetheart of a boyfriend called us a week ago, saying you were awfully depressed and missed us. We took two weeks off from work and flew here, arranged by Henry and everything. We’re even staying at the hotel just a few blocks over.” Your mother chipped. She went straight to the kitchen, “And something about you wanting my gyozas, so I gave him the ingredient list, but not how to make them.”

“See, I knew something was going on when he said you had given him the recipe.”

“Today, I am going to teach you two how to make them, then you won’t miss me as much, dear.”

“I’ll always miss you, mama.”

Your mother smiled softly. She pulled out an apron from her purse and asked Henry for a notebook and a pen.

“First we start with the dumpling wrappers…”

She quickly took over the kitchen, as any cooking-loving mother would do. You measured the ingredients while Henry kneaded the dough. Your father sat at the two-person table, where you ate breakfast with Henry, and played tug with Kal. You and your mother stood at one side of the kitchen island, while Henry worked the dough, his muscles on display.

“Here you go, dear, you’re drooling,” your mother handed you a napkin. Your cheeks blushed a crimson red, but Henry just smiled at you. He knew it, the cheeky monkey, what effect it had on you when he showcased his biceps.

“There, it’s all smooth,” Henry handed your mother the dough. She inspected it and approved it. After wrapping it in film, you moved on to the filling.

“My mama taught me how to chop everything nicely, so it will have a nice mouthfeel when you take a bite of the dumpling. But we’re going to use your meat grinder.”

You put the meat grinder attachment to your kitchen machine. You put almost all the vegetables through and had this wet mixture in the end. Henry was tasked to shred the small block of ginger.

Your mother added soy sauce, sesame oil, and black pepper as seasonings to the veggie-mix and then added the ground pork and ginger. She mixed it thoroughly and set it aside.

“Mama, how do we know how much soy to put in?” You asked.

“You can always panfry a little of the filling and taste it, dear. Henry, be a darling and roll the dough out for me.”

After your mother was happy with the thickness of the dough, you used a small bowl to cut out circles. She filled the dough with a teaspoon of the filling and showed you how to fold it closed, making it stick together with water on the edges.

The first few attempts were disastrous, you kept overfilling the dough and ended up with ground pork all over your hands. Your mother showed you over and over again until you got the hang of it. Henry, on the other hand, impressed you with his technique. He shouldn’t have been able to work with such a delicate dough, but the way he folded the edges so gently, made you wonder how he did it with his large thick fingers.

“Well done, Henry. Looks like you’ve tried this before,” your mother praised him.

“Not really, but it is a little similar to working with pasta,” he smiled. You had been nervous to have him meet your parents, but now you knew there had been nothing to worry about. He was turning on the charm, full throttle.

You went in search of a pan with a lid while your mother and Henry gushed over filled pasta. You heated up the pan with some neutral oil and added the gyozas in a circular pattern. When the dumplings had gotten a golden and crispy bottom, you added water and put the lid on, letting the dumplings steam and cook.

“Henry, will you set the dinner table, please?” You interrupted the two food-loving talkers. Henry smiled and went to grab the plates.

“Let’s make some dipping sauces,” your mother clasped her hands together and went to work. Your father helped Henry with glasses and chopsticks.

10 minutes later all the food was on the table, with you sitting next to Henry and opposite your parents. You thanked for the food and started putting food on your plate with your chopsticks, your parents doing the same, while Henry had a little more difficulty using his.

“Here, you hold it like this. One in the crook of your thumb and sitting at the tip of your ring finger, the other sits a little higher and nestled between your middle and index finger.”

He did his best and would learn with a little more practice.

“So, these dumplings are the ones that you can eat without getting tired of them?” Henry asked.

“All day, every day.”

[cherrybracelets]

Ghost Girl

intro // gg masterlist

spencer reid x bau!reader

word count: 2.5k // warnings: typical cm violence, nothing too graphic in this part! 

summary: before your time in the bau, you worked on a very secretive and dangerous task force. you thought that life was in your past, almost four years later without a word of who you used to be. that was until today, when  everything came back to haunt you. 

an: this is just a small lil intro to this fic!! obvi this is regurgitating the emily story line i know they sound similar but once we get into details it will be different! lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

There were days where you could forget. Days where the memories somehow faded to the back of your mind. You were able to pretend you were okay. 

Today was not one of those days. 

You were with the team in Seattle this week, working on a suspected serial killer couple. The case was one of the more open and shut ones; not many twists and turns, the duo made it quite easy to find them. Sometimes there were cases like that, played right by the book, making the jobs of you and your fellow profilers quite easy. 

So as you stood in the conference room of the Seattle Field Office, taking down photos from the boards as the team prepared to leave, having no idea how the next 24 hours of your life would unfold. 

“Hey, did you remember to call Casey and let her know we’re on our way home?” Spencer asked you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your cheek. You could feel Derek rolling his eyes behind you, a habit you had gotten used to since Spencer was not shy with PDA. 

“Um, yeah, she said she’d stay until we landed so she can make sure they all get dinner,” you responded, assuring Spencer that your plethora of pets were being well taken care of by your pet sitter. 

Spencer smiled happily, taking his warmth away and heading out to the hall. You watched him leave, your boyfriend of two years now, the room feeling so much emptier without his presence. 

You felt your cell vibrating in your back pocket, taking your mind away from already missing your boyfriend, even though he literally walked out of the room ten seconds ago. You pulled your phone out cautiously, hoping it wasn’t an emergency. 

You didn’t recognize the number, but you instantly knew the area code. Boston. 

You felt sick to your stomach as you continued to watch the call go unanswered. Who the hell would be calling you from Boston? 

You finally answered after what seemed like hours, carefully closing the door to the conference room and locking it so you could be alone. Whoever was calling, it couldn’t be good news. And you couldn’t let anyone else hear. 

“Who is this?” You whispered into the phone, your voice shaky and harsh. 

“It’s me.” 

The voice held the same nervous tone that yours did. You felt your heart stopped as you heard his voice, a sound you thought you would never hear for the rest of your life. 

“Wade… what’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry to have to call you about this, (Y/N). But you need to know.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Zack Philips escaped from prison last night.” 

There was silence, for what seemed like an eternity. Your brain flipped over the words, not sure how to handle the information that was just shared. 

“How is that possible?” You finally managed to get out, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“We believe he may have had someone helping him on the inside. Me and Alicia are trying to figure it out.” 

“This can’t be happening. He was supposed to rot in there,” you gasped, your eyes swelling with tears as horrible memories of him came flooding back to your reality. 

The sound of Hotch shaking the locked door handle, trying to enter the room you had barricaded yourself in. You quickly hung up the phone, trying your best to compose yourself as you unlocked the door and let your supervisor in. 

Apparently you aren’t as good of a liar as you thought, because he could immediately sense the tension clung to the air. He closed the door behind him, assuming the sensitive nature of your worries. 

Aaron Hotchner was one of two people that knew about your past before you came to the BAU. You were hoping that you would never have to tell another soul outside of the task force you worked with, but it seemed that Aaron would have to know if you were to work in his Unit. 

“Wade Jefferies just called me,” you admitted, still shaking your head in denial. 

“Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” You had a sense that he somehow already knew what you were going to say, a certain look in his eye as if he knew it was only a matter of time before your past came back to bite you all. 

“He escaped prison.” 

“How long ago?” 

“Last night, sometime. I’m not sure when, exactly.” 

The two of you shared a glance, a mutual look of ‘Oh, shit.’ 

“Do we need to involve the team?” 

The team. You couldn’t even imagine them involved in this. It was your battle before you came here, and you promised yourself you would never let them get wrapped up in it. Especially Spencer. It was hard lying to him every day about who you were, where you had been… but you had no choice. And you still had no choice. There was no way you could involve them. 

“I don’t think we need to do that yet, Hotch. We don’t even know where he is. There’s a chance he could just go into hiding.” 

“You know Zack Philips better than anyone. Do you believe that’s what he will do?” 

No. He would come look for you. There was no doubt in your mind. 

“I’m not sure. But it’s not this team’s responsibility either way. Wade is getting together with the other members of the task force. I’m sure we’ll be able to track him down.” You avoided his eyes, knowing if he caught a glimpse at your face, you wouldn’t be able to lie for much longer. Hotch nodded cautiously at you, not entirely believing your story, but knowing better than to press the conversation any further. 

Although Hotch knew details of the case, there were still many things he was in the dark about. If he knew just who this man was, there wasn’t a chance in hell he would let you handle things on your own. Part of you was glad there were parts of this you kept hidden, all to yourself. Only you knew what he was truly capable off, which was why it was extremely dire that you found him. 

∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗

Spencer knew there was something off with you. He had been dating you for two years, and you’d been living together for almost one. There was no way he wouldn’t notice a dramatic shift in your demeanor. It was even more suspicious watching Hotch glance over at you every few minutes on the plane, a look of concern pasted on his face. 

Something was wrong, something that you were refusing to share with Spencer. 

He tried to get you to talk, begging and pleading for you to share whatever was on your mind. But all you would give him is a slight smile, assuring him you just weren’t feeling well. 

“The time change, it always makes me feel yucky,” you assured him as you walked into your house, letting him know you just needed a hot shower and a good night's sleep. 

Spencer kissed you before you headed up the stairs, watching you closely as you ascended into your bedroom and walked anxiously into the bathroom. He heard the water turn on, and he felt a little better, trying to convince himself that there wasn’t some big secret you were hiding. 

What Spencer didn’t hear was the quiet phone call you tried to make as the steam from the shower filled up your master bathroom. You dialed Wade’s number anxiously, tapping your foot on the tiled floor as the phone rang. 

“Are you someplace private?” He asked, no time for kind greetings or small talk. 

“Yeah, I’m alone. What have you found out?” 

“According to a trusted source, Zack got on a plane this morning that’s headed for Washington.” 

“He’s coming to us. Should be easier to find him,” you said, trying to convince yourself you all had a chance. You brought him down once before, it was possible you could do it again, right? 

“I talked to the Director. He wants all of us back together, working non stop until we find him.” 

“I can’t disappear, Wade. What am I supposed to tell the team?” You looked around nervously, hoping to god you were quiet enough so Spencer couldn’t hear. 

“I actually think you should stay right where you are. Chances are he will stake us out, and if he sees you…” Wade trailed off, not wanting to say what he was afraid of, but you knew. If he saw you, if he knew the truth… none of you would make it out alive. 

“Is there any indicator that he knows who I am? That I’m alive?” 

“As far as we’re concerned, he believes that Lindsey Grimes died in prison.” 

You flinched when he said her name, the person that you once were so long ago. You had laid her to rest when you joined the BAU, convinced there was no way she could come back to haunt you. 

“(Y/N)... we won’t let him hurt you,” your former boss assured, his voice sounded confident enough to make you calm down a little bit. 

“Call me if anything happens.” 

“I will. I need you to take care of yourself, okay? Be cautious, but don’t be suspicious. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

He ended the call, allowing you to set your phone down and shut your eyes. All of this had seemed like one continuous nightmare, your brain unable to believe any part of this was real. You had to trust Wade and your former team, though. They kept you safe all those years ago, you were sure they could do it again. They had too. 

There was so much more at stake, now. You weren’t some 22 year old agent begging to make a name for yourself, all alone in the world and willing to take on any project that came your way. You had a family, somebody you loved. You couldn’t let Spencer get hurt, you would die before you’d let Zack near him. 

A part of you wondered if you should tell him, let him in on that part of your life. Maybe he could help. Maybe they all could… 

But if something happened to any of them, you would never forgive yourself. You had to protect them first. 

∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗

Two days had gone by without another word. Somehow, you were working a case that kept you in DC, which made you even more nervous. You were hoping that if you got out of the city, you and the whole team would be much safer. If Zack really was in DC, you were better off as far away as possible. 

But you couldn’t control where the BAU was needed. And besides, two days without a word was good, right? If you were in danger, if something was wrong, they would tell you. At least that’s what you spent the last 48 hours trying to convince yourself. 

You had almost pushed it out of your mind, able to do your job without distraction. That was until you received a text from Wade that made your heart stop. 

‘We need to meet, now. I’ll text you coordinates. Be there in 10.’ 

You looked around at your team, carefully chipping away at your current case, no idea of the impending doom you faced. You looked around for Hotch, needing to at least explain to him why you needed to leave. 

Once securing his approval, you snuck out of the office, texting Spencer that you were making an emergency coffee run and would be back soon. He responded with a quick, ‘Ok, love you!’ that made you feel nauseous as you drove away from the team and to the location Wade provided. 

When you arrived at the small park, you found a bench not too far from your car and sat down, eagerly awaiting your fate. You looked around for Wade, unsure if you would even recognize him after four years.

After a few minutes of waiting, you started to feel uneasy. He was late. Wade was never late, especially to things he planned. 

Something was wrong about this. You looked around nervously, not another soul in sight. You started to slowly stand up from the bench, hoping to make a quick path to your car and get out of here before anyone noticed. 

But it was too late. You felt a strong hand grip your shoulder as you began to stand up, fingers digging into your flesh as they pushed you back down onto the bench. 

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” 

You turned towards the hidden man, confirming your suspicions. You could tell it was him, just by his touch. It was rough, not an ounce of kindness seeped through him. 

“Zack…” you whispered, refusing to look him in the face. 

“Lindsey… oh, that’s not right, is it?” He chuckled, walking around the bench and taking a seat next to you. 

“How did you find me, Zack? You’ve been out less than a week…” 

“Oh, (Y/N),” he smiled, turning towards you and cupping a cold hand on your face. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” 

“How long have you known?” 

“Well, I’ll be honest, you had me fooled for quite some time. Most of the evidence could’ve come from anyone… but one day, my lawyer was going over something with me, and there it was. So small, I should’ve missed it. Hell, I probably had, a hundred times. But that day… that day I was thinking about you. Because that was the day they told me you’d died.” 

He looked up at you, a hint of real pain shimmering in his evil eyes. It felt genuine, a part of you so badly wanting to believe there was still a piece of humanity in him. But you knew how capable he was of faking emotion, how he could break you down with just a small glance… 

“My lawyer looked at me and said, ‘They know about Buffalo.’ And that’s when I knew. Because you, my sweet (Y/N)... you were the only person that knew about that.” 

“What do you want, Zack?” 

“Well, I’m feeling exceptionally generous today, so I’d like to give you some options.” He smiled devilishly at you, any semblance of humanity you thought he had drained in that moment. 

“You can come with me. We can chat for a bit, you can own up to every lie you ever told from that beautiful place of yours. And then, I’ll kill you of course.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making you flinch as he touched you. “If that doesn’t sound good, I can kill every single member of your little team one by one until you give in. And I’ll start with that pretty little boy of yours… what’s his name, Spencer?” 

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” you snapped, the thought of him anywhere near Spencer making you shake. 

“Do you think I don’t have people on my side, (Y/N)? If you hurt me, there are fifty men ready to finish this job.” 

You wanted so desperately to not believe him, to think you could end this all with one bullet in his head. But you knew the power he had over people, the influx of his followers willing to give their life to him. He was right. If you touched him, you’d be facing an army of unknowns trying to harm all of you. 

There was no choice. You had to protect your team. You had to protect Spencer. 

“I’ll go with you. Just promise you won’t hurt them.” 

[thethirteenthcrow]

The Shyan Shipping Society Writing Challenge ✍️💕

Hello dear shippers! 

My name’s Zhalia, a fanfic writer on archive of our own. you might know me from my stripper!Ryan au, or the cinderella au or from the many comments i leave on your amazing works.

Since October, i’ve been hosting very lowkey writing challenges on the Shyan Shipping Society Discord server. and i figured, i’d let good ol’ tumblr get a piece of it!

this is a fun lil' challenge to practice your writing with random prompts!

(shout out to @helloitsvehere​ for making the amazing header here and sorry to keep bugging you on it but it looks really amazing now darling <3)

✨RULES✨

✧ the challenge is held at monthly, we don't want to pressure anyone too much and we want to give you enough time to work! on top of that, the minimum amount of words for this challenge is 50, which is a very low bar, it's no school, this is for fun!! also don't worry if you miss a month.

✧ from the day we set the prompt, you have one month to meet the challenge. with this, we request a chapter or a start. if a prompt inspires u to write more than a oneshot or one chapter, feel free to expand as much as you can outside the challenge! everyone is requested to post their submissions on the same day (so say we start at october 1st, then you're only allowed to submit your submissions on october 31st, no sooner). We then hope to announce the new prompt on, for example, november 1st to continue the cycle, but it may differ at times.

✧ There are no specifications to your writing. you may write however you like, a story, a description, a poem, anything is allowed. you're free to write in any rating, be it G or E-rated. we prefer M/E of course, cause we're thirsty like that. if you’re an artist, you’re free to join too! more elaboration in the FAQ below :D.

✧ if you have ideas for prompts, please DM me on Discord or mail me on thethirteenthcrow@gmail.com ! i love to hear em <3 (keep reading for more information on the challenge)

i can’t wait to see all your lovely works! i’m really stoked to see and chat with you and learn all that’s going around in your wonderful minds.

much love, 

Zhalia💖

✨FAQ✨

o   What is the Shyan Shipping Society (Server)?

The shipping society is a discord server owned by @bradpistachio​ where a bunch of shippers gather to chat about anything: their lives; the boys; other fanworks like fanfics and fanart; annoying antis; we have a writing lab to talk about your own works, and much more! The server is filled with amazing artists like madamecrimson, @helloitsvehere​, @pizzacastella​, sonzaishinai and many more. The server is an active and welcoming community. In the server, I also roll out the updates for this challenge and answer all your questions. Will we see you there?

o   Do i need to join the server to post?

It's not required! The server is a lil' bonus, a place where you can talk with fellow shippers about anything, but also where i will be reminding you of the challenge. We have handful of channels dedicated to this writing challenge, so it might help you out. It's also easier for me to follow, and whenever you have questions i will reply faster there than anywhere else. But, again, it's not necessary.

o   If i join the challenge once, am i required to join every month?

Most definitely not! You're free to join and leave whenever you want. Sometimes a prompt doesn't inspire you, or life dragged you away from writing and that's completely valid! This challenge is supposed to be a fun way to motivate you to express yoursef through your art, but it's not school so don't ever feel pressured :).

o   What tags do i include, what are the ratings we work in?

There are no required ratings and/or tags for you to use. In general, the prompts are all focused on Shyan, but if you'd like to add Standrew as a background relationship, feel free!! If the prompt is Watcher-oriented, but you feel like you need a bit of that spice that Curly brings with him, i encourage you! On top of that, you're free to choose whichever ratings you feel fit best. Personally, i mostly live off of M- and E-rated fics, but if you're uncomfortable with graphic descriptions of anything, and would rather keep it a fluffy G-rated fic, then knock yourself out! I believe you know what's best for your work!

On the shipping server, the prompt will have a set of recommended tags, these are ideas i'd write the prompt in, but they aren't mandatory. If it says 'friends to lovers' but you'd rather write 'established relationship' then feel free! It's your work after all.

o   Is there a minimum and/or maximum word count?

There is a minimum word count of 50 words right now, to show that you're seriously participating (i mean, wouldn't want "he smiled, they kissed, they fucked, the end" as a fic, right?). Your work does not have to be finished in order to fulfill the prompt, you can write one chapter, or one paragraph and edit it later when you have more time. If a prompt inspires you enough to write a long fic about it, don't feel pressured to finish it within a month! Take your time!! All we ask is for you to have written a start, and post that to the collection.

o   i am no writer, but i’d love to make art for this in another way, is that possible?

Of course! originally the challenge was only made for writers, because the server was filled with a majority of writers. however, over the past few weeks we’ve had a handful of artists join our little community as well, people like sonza and @berakangkang​. Sonza has blessed us by filling the October prompt as well, so if you’re an artist and you’d like to participate, please join! we love love love your art. honestly. the server goes wild on fanart. 

o   When do i post my submission?

Everyone who joins the challenge, posts their submission on the same day. This is the last 48 hours of a month - CET timezone. The next prompt will have been rolled out a day before we open submissions, so you can get familiar with it for a day or two before starting on it.

o   I don't think i'll reach the deadline, now what?

You can contact me privately about this through our discord server - for fast replies - or via my email (thethirteenthcrow@gmail.com). I will open the collection for you so you can submit it later. Keep an eye on the deadline though, a challenge won't be reopened a month after the deadline.

o   I have an amazing idea for a prompt, where do i submit it?

On the discord server, we have a channel named 'prompts-and-ideas' where some of these prompts even came from, you can submit them there and @ me so i'd know it's for the writing challenge.

If you don't have discord or don't want to join the server, you're free to mail me your idea with Shyan Shipping Society Prompt Idea as subject! I look forward to your ideas!

here’s the link to the parent collection on Archive Of Our Own, where you can always find the new prompts for the next months, and where you can post your work once i open the collection.

i can’t wait to see your works! i’m very excited to see what you all can come up with <3

ps,

this is the first time i host a writing challenge like this. i’m still learning my way around ao3′s function to make prompt meme challenges, and there may always be little bugs in the system, because i have but a small brain. i rely on carl-bot to remind me to post and open submissions and everything, to keep it running smoothly. i am trying my very best to make this fun for everyone. also i crave feedback, so if you have any comments, complaints, ideas, critique, please hit me up!!

oh and yeah i am very inactive on the tumblrs because i don’t uh catch the vibe of this platform but i’m trying. i’m trying. 👉👈

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Night Terrors, pt. 2

WARNING: While there are no torture flashbacks in this section, Pt. 2 continues to deal with PTSD, as well as some phantom pain and a character who lost a limb in combat. If you are uncomfortable with this, please do not read, as I do not wish to offend anyone. I understand that PTSD and phantom pain are very real issues that many have to deal with, and I have no first hand or even second hand experience with PTSD, only night terrors, and I am getting all my information regarding how someone might react during a PTSD flashback episode, how to help them during one and phantom pain from the internet.

Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

(Secondary reminder that this is part of my first stories for the current iteration of Modern Inheritance, and I’ve learned a lot since this about war trauma, PTSD and post-war life and difficulties. I tried my best to be respectful and sensitive.)

Part 1 // PART 2

~~~

Glenwing jerked, tearing himself from his waking dreams. He had heard the thunderstorm long before, and had not been bothered by it, but a new sound was echoing through his home. It was uniquely different from the storm outside, and the difference unsettled him.

Beneath the rumble of the thunder and the crash of the lightning he heard a faint ‘thudthudthud’ from his living area.

“Who the hell…” Concerned, the elf tossed off his sheets and pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers. After more than seven months of learning how to do simple tasks both with and without his prosthetic, Glen managed to get the pants on only a few seconds slower than he would have with the prosthesis. He deftly pulled on a plain white t-shirt to cover the end of his scar covered shoulder, the prosthetic on its stand beside his bed, and made his way to the front door.

Instead of the louder bangs that he had heard earlier, the only sound emitting from the door now were a series of soft, regular 'thunk…thunk…thunk’ noises. He frowned, confused, and peered out the viewer into the night.

It took him a long moment. He first only saw rain and brief flashes of lightning. Then he saw a sword lying in the mud, a shaking hand holding it in a death grip. A new sound, soft and pleading, reached his ears now that he was closer, and with a shock he threw the door open to the raging storm.

Arya tumbled into his home, drenched with rain water from head to toe and clothed in her casual, day-to-day combat gear. There was blood and mud on the side of her face, the red liquid gushing from where she had been repeatedly hitting her head on the door. Besides the cut she looked physically sound to him, so he crouched low to the ground and slipped his remaining arm under both of hers in a cross chest carry and gently pulled her fully inside the house.

Once she was inside Glenwing returned to a crouch and, supporting the woman’s weight with his chest, slipped his head under one of her arms as shifted his grip to her opposite side. “Hey, can you hear me? Arya?”

“Let me die….” The woman’s head lolled against his shoulder, eyes half open. “It hurts…can’t do it again….”

“Not going to happen, Cee-Oh. You’re a tough lil’ spitfire of a lady, so we’re going to stand on three, okay? One, two, three!” Glen heaved them both up, staggering as the added weight on his uninjured side nearly unbalanced him. He managed to get to the couch and fall backwards, wincing as his former commander’s elbow dug into his stomach. “Good job, Ari. Good job.” A flicker passed through Arya’s eyes at the words.

“It hurts…” The woman gripped his shirt, appearing a little more aware of her surroundings. “Glen…I can’t do this….”

“Take it easy, Arya. Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Can I take your jacket off? You’re soaking wet.” Arya shook her head, looking terrified at the very idea. “Okay, that’s okay. Can we at least get you washed up, rinse out that cut on your he–”

“NO!” The shout came both verbally and mentally, a short spike of terror that left a sizable dent in his mental defenses. Glenwing leapt off the couch and away from his friend as a pistol suddenly appeared between them, torn from the belt slung haphazardly from shoulder to hip. “No water!” She shouted at him, a mixture of fury and pure fear on her blood streaked face.

Then the gun slipped from her fingers, the color draining from her skin as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “'Think ’m gonna be sick.”

Glen carefully moved behind couch and to the kitchen and snatched up the bucket he used for cleaning. He came back around and set it in Arya’s lap, grabbing the pistol and unlatching the belt as he did so. She didn’t comment, only slid to the floor and dry heaved into the small bucket, coughing and sputtering as nothing came up.

When she finished, shakily curling into a half ball on her side, Glen sat cross legged next to her on the floor and leaned against the couch. “You okay?”

Arya shook her head. “It hurts.”

“Your stomach?”

“Back. Head. Everything.”

Glen nodded. Her difficulty speaking and combat ready attire had already clued him in on what was happening, feeling an ache in his chest as he watched her try to fight the flashbacks and phantoms in her head.

“Can I touch your shoulder?” He asked softly. The woman nodded, and when the male elf gently set his remaining hand on her arm she grabbed it and held onto it as if seeking a lifeline back into the present.

They sat like that for a long time, the rain pounding on the roof and the thunder rumbling through the forest.

Arya slowly seemed to relax slightly. Her grip on Glen’s hand never released, but she moved closer to him, her upper back lightly brushing the outside of his leg. He took it as a sign that she was feeling a bit more grounded and asked, “Can I heal your head?”

“Yes.” She mumbled, exhausted and pale. Whatever she had seen and felt had ripped through what little progress in sleep she had made, and it left her cold and shaking. “Please.”

“I might need my kit.” Glen told her softly, squeezing her shoulder. “I need to get up and get it. Will you be okay?”

“…Maybe.”

“Do you want to hold on to something? Dog tags? A pillow?” The medic smiled as his former CO reached up and dragged one of the small pillows off the couch and released him. With her free hand she clutched at the dog tags around her neck, running her thumb over the raised letters of each. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Using slow movements Glenwing pushed himself up, grabbing the couch armrest for support. His knees and his lower back popped as he came out of the hunched position, and he rolled his neck as he retrieved his prosthetic from his room. The ruddy orange and white streaked limb locked on with a familiar click and hiss and the medic flexed his metal fingers, touching to tip of each one to his thumb in the now automatic check on the link to his nerves.

Satisfied with his findings, Glen opened his closet and pulled out a dusty backpack similar to the one Arya had in her room. He unlocked it with the thumb scanner and dug out his belt and the attached medkit, then grabbed an armful of towels. He was about to return to the living room, stepping out into the short hall, when the closed door across from his room caught his eye.

'That might actually help.’

A few moments later he was back at the couch, setting his collected items down. “I’m back.” Arya nodded a little and Glen sat, patting his leg. The woman scooted closer and rested her head on the offered knee, familiar with the methods he’d had for caring for head wounds she or Fäolin would acquire in the field. “I’m going to ask you a question that might scare you. There’s all sorts of debris in this cut. I can rinse it out with cleaning solution or I can clear it with magic.”

Glenwing saw the other elf’s throat convulse, and for a moment he was afraid she would slip back into her memories or start gagging again. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she gripped her tags in a white knuckled grip as she shook her head. “No…water. No water.”

“Clear it with magic, then?”

“…Magic.”

As Glen gently moved her mud caked hair away from the still trickling wound, his mind reverted back to that of the battlefield medic and bodyguard he had been before that night months ago. The cut wasn’t deep, but like all head wounds it had bled profusely. The mud had helped stop the bleeding somewhat as it dried, and with a light touch he gently brushed the larger pieces of dirt away before breaching the flow of magic in his mind and murmuring a spell to remove the debris from the gash. Once it was clear, he set about healing it completely.

“There.” Glen set his hand on Arya’s arm as the last bit of skin flowed together. “All healed up.” To his confusion, Arya shook her head. “Are you hurt somewhere else?” She nodded. “Tell me.”

The woman hugged the pillow closer to her chest and buried her face into it, pulling away from her friend. “Back…Back’s open again.”

Glenwing felt a tingle shoot down his metal arm. There would be much more blood if the scars on her back had opened. He almost asked ’are you sure?’ before he caught himself, one of his own memories giving him pause.

He sat in Rhunön’s shop, remaining hand clenched at his hip as he screamed at the sky “It still hurts!” Then the wizened blacksmith had marched out from her forge, interrupted from shaping the plates of his prosthetic, and slapped him across the face hard, shouting for him to unclench his fingers. When he finally did she seized his hand and slapped it on the end of his stump, her rough fingers holding his in place.

“Feel that?” Rhunön had snapped. “It’s gone! You have no nerves down there anymore. It hurts, I know. But you have to make your brain remember that it is gone.” Glen had shivered and tears streamed down his face as he did as she told him, rubbing the thick pink scars that marked where his shoulder now ended.

And the pain had eased.

If it felt real to her, he had to show her that the past was not lingering in the present.

“Alright. Then we need to take your jacket off.” Arya shivered but still eased herself up from the floor and pulled her arms from the sleeves, shedding the garment by tugging the hem on the back so that it fell from her shoulders.

Just as he had suspected, Glen saw no blood on her shirt as he moved to sit on the couch behind her. The wet olive green fabric was darkened by rainwater but showed no telltale, pitch-black patches where blood would have seeped through.

“Arya, I’m going to pull the back of your shirt up, okay?” Glenwing warned her as he brushed her loosened braid over her shoulder. When she gave a shaky nod of approval, he carefully pulled the cloth up until it was midway up her back and held out his hand by her side. “Give me your hand.” When she paused, Glen touched two fingers where he knew the Yawë was inked into her skin. “Vae hávr yawë, fyrn-darmthral.”

She relaxed, the undeniable truth of his words putting her more at ease, and let him take her hand.

Slowly, gently, Glenwing guided Arya’s hand to the exposed skin of her back. She flinched when her fingers first brushed it, then sucked in a breath when he ran her hand over the first scar, the burns that raked her side. When she didn’t react beyond that, he continued, letting her fingertips glide over the healed rents in her skin.

Finally, he touched her palm flat against the center of her lower back. Her fingers felt blindly for open wounds but only found scar tissue. Glenwing released his hold on her hand and let her feel along a nearly inch wide hypertrophic scar that reached to her hip, checking under her own control that what she felt was real.

After a long moment, Arya spoke, her voice no longer strained with pain but slightly disbelieving and oddly awed. “They never opened.”

“They never opened.” Glenwing confirmed, again abandoning his spot on the couch to sit next to her on the floor. “How do you feel?”

Arya was silent, then she grunted, “Sore as all hell.”

“That’s expected. You headbutted my door hard enough to make a Kull proud.”

“I probably woke up half of Tildarí hall.” The woman groaned and put her face in her hands, mortified, then pulled back with a mildly surprised expression. “I’m covered in mud.”

Glen couldn’t help but grin a little. “Yes. Yes, you are. You wouldn’t let me clean you up. You, my friend, are in desperate need of a shower.”

Arya shuddered from head to toe and her eyes flicked to the window, where rain continued to pour down from the heavens. “I don’t want to be near water for a while.” She rubbed her upper arms as goose bumps flared over her damp skin.

“Here.” Glenwing picked up the jacket he had retrieved from the closed room.

His friend accepted it gratefully and pulled it on, then froze. Her pupils first contracted then dilated in a split second, and for a moment Glen feared his action had triggered another attack. Then Arya hugged her sides and tugged the hood over her shoulder, inhaling a scent that Glenwing couldn’t detect and smiled slightly.

“This is Fäolin’s, isn’t it?” She didn’t look at him with any anger or accusation, only a strange relief as if the scent of her lost love had chased away the final demon lingering in her mind.

“Yeah.” Glenwing gently grinned back at her. “I figured you could use something familiar.”

“Thank you, Glen.” They sat together in comfortable silence, the fluffy towels bunched around them on the floor seeped in their body heat. “What time is it?”

Glen checked the digital readout on his arm. “Ah, almost Oh-Four-Hundred.” Arya started to stand, apologizing profusely for waking him up in the middle of the night. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down. “Hey, hey, stay! I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while. You nearly beat my door in with your head, so I need to watch you for signs of a concussion.” He chuckled. “I’ll need your help fixing the dent you put in the paneling when morning comes, too.”

Arya paused, considering it. It was still raining, and she didn’t want to risk triggering another episode by going out in the deluge. Plus, she very well couldn’t go back home until she had washed up, which might be some time in coming as the very thought of even wiping her face with a wet washcloth made her throat tighten. She could change clothes from the go bag she kept in Fäolin’s room and just tell Islanzadí that Glen had called her over early in the morning for another lesson on how to repair his prosthetic. If she even asked.

“Okay, fine. Can I take the couch?” A flicker of confusion flashed across Glenwing’s face, and he started to gesture back towards the closed room in the hallway. “I don't…I don’t want to sleep in his bed without him.” Arya murmered, jamming her fists into the pockets of Fäolin’s jacket.

Glen’s face softened. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that. You can take the couch. You know where everything is, right?” She nodded. “Okay. I’ll keep my door open, so if anything happens all you need to do is call me and I’ll be out here in a heartbeat. All set? Okay.” He smiled and stood, patting his former commander on the head while she swatted his arm in good natured retaliation. “Good night, Arya.”

“Glen, wait.” He turned to see Arya leaning with her arms folded over the back of the couch. She touched her first two fingers to her lips. “Elrun ono, Glenwing-Vor, fyrn-darmthrell.” And she added in the common elvish tongue, “For everything. You pulled me out of a second hell.”

Glenwing bowed with his orange fist twisted on his chest. “Onr astorí, Arya, fyrn-darmthral.” He straightened and moved into his room with a tired wave. “Sleep well.”

And for the first time in weeks, she did.

Translations

(Most of these are very rough and cobbled together from words that are similar to what I was trying to convey with a few alterations, so it is not exact.)

Vae hávr yawë, fyrn-darmthral– 'You can trust me, war-sister.’ Literally translates to 'We have a bond of trust, war sister.’

Elrun ono, Glenwing-Vor, fyrn-darmthrell– 'Thank you, Glenwing, war-brother.’ Vor is an honorific for a close male friend

Onr astorí, Arya, fyrn darmthral– 'You’re welcome, Arya, war-sister.’

[mulletcal]

flowers, maybe daisies, might relieve the gloom. - an a.i blurb

a/n: i lowkey blame @sexgodashton​ for starting this whole mini series of boomer!ash things, but i also adore this because boomer!ash is soft as hell.  and also a lil d*ddy but we don’t need to talk about that.  title is from wait by sweeney todd bc i love it.  alternative title was gonna be from L.G. FUAD by motion city soundtrack

word count: 

warnings: ashton irwin being a thirst trapping, lemon stealing whore. i’m kidding it’s just a solo ash fic w no smut but some mild ash thirst trapping.

-----

‘ashtonirwin started a live video.’

Ashton didn’t often go live on Instagram, but this shelter in place order had left him ultimately bored - writing a song every day before noon, sure, but anything after that was a blur.  Occasionally he would have interviews or live-streams with the band, but on days without that he was left alone with his thoughts, and his thoughts weren’t always the safest place to be; so talking to fans it was. 

It was going well so far, simply asking fans how their quarantine was going - bringing some of them into the livestream so he could talk to some face to face.  One girl in particular had caught his attention when they began to discuss hobbies she had picked up during the time she’d spent at home.

“Yeah, I’m learning to garden.  I have a tomato plant that is just starting to sprout actual tomatoes, so that’s kind of exciting,” She had said, a nervous laugh escaping.

“Well, I would hope that your tomato plant is sprouting tomatoes, it would be a little concerning if it was growing something else,” Ashton replied with a chuckle, the girl giving a small shrug but still laughing along with him.

“You should look into it if you’ve got the room at your house, I bet it would feel rather rewarding to be able to cook something with your own fresh vegetables.”

“Would save me quite a bit of money too.  Can I grow yeast? I’d like to learn how to make my own bread but here in L.A. you can’t find yeast anywhere.”

The conversation continued like that for a few minutes more, Ashton taking only a couple more fans into the livestream after that to talk to before he decided he should probably do something else productive with his day.  Something like learning to garden. 

It surprised Ashton the things you were able to order online during this time - soil being the main thing.  He also read that saving coffee grounds would help, and he was excited at the idea of his insane coffee habit wouldn’t be completely useless.  He ended up buying seeds for tomatoes, mint, sunflowers, lemongrass, and zucchini.  The lemongrass and mint was specifically for Calum, realizing he would be able to dry the plants out once he had harvested them so he could make the man his very own tea.

When his package finally arrived, Ashton spread the packages out, sliding them across the table as though he was some card dealer in Las Vegas.  Thinking the fans would find it amusing, he took a picture of the spread and added it to his story with the caption of ‘pick a card, any card…’.  Maybe it would only be funny to him, but it did prompt a fire reaction from Michael.

It seemed as though the reaction from fans were positive though, them taking to Twitter to let him know their excitement about his new endeavour.  That’s where his weekly livestreams began.  He would show everyone the progress he was making with his plants, and just in general him chatting with fans.  Ashton never really thought of how refreshing it could be to just talk to the fans, without the worry of time restrictions or anyone’s personal safety in the way; in fact, it left him rather inspired, loving their fans even more if it were at all possible.

A particularly warm day in L.A. left Ashton wondering if he should go out to the garden that day - but it was the day he would normally livestream, and he was excited to show what he was up to that day.  Ashton wanted to plant another tomato plant, and also the lemons on his infamous tree had enough for him to make some lemonade so he was going to go through that as well.

Clad in some cut off jeans, or as Calum so affectionately called them his jorts, and a white tank top, he pulled up the live option on Instagram and waited for the people to begin to filter in before he started to speak.

“Hey guys! Just gonna wait for more of you to filter in before I actually head outside, but I thought that since you guys love my lemon tree so much, I’d make some lemonade.  Fuck, I sound like a YouTuber.  Is that gonna be my next career, is just YouTube tutorials on how to make shitty lemonade?” Ashton laughed to himself, slicing the lemon so he could juice it, ignoring the comments he saw about murdering his lemon children.

It didn’t take him long to make the lemonade, making mild conversation with the fans while he stirred in a little bit of sugar and some cheat mint he had ordered while waiting for his own to grow.

“Alright, now that I’m waiting for that to cool, probably best we go outside and check on those tomatoes, hm?” 

It had been weird at first, talking to himself; but he quickly realized that he talked to himself anyways, even without the phone in front of him, so it couldn’t have been too weird for anyone who could overhear him.

“So I wanted to plant another tomato plant today, because everyone can use a friend right now, you know?” He looked into the camera, a smile spreading across his face when he saw the flood of cute little emojis that followed.  “M’gonna be like the Bob Ross of gardening. No mistakes, only happy accidents or whatever it was he said.”

Ashton began to work away at his garden, building up a sweat in the process.  It wasn’t until he leaned back, glancing at his phone did he see a text from Michael flash across the top.

‘Mate, Crystal said stop thirst trapping the fans.’

Ashton’s brow furrowed, unsure of what the text was saying, “Okay so I just got a text from Michael - what’s thirst trapping? And am I currently doing it?”

Of all the comments that followed, he noticed one that said ‘I mean… I’m not gonna say either way but take a look at yourself and get back to us’.  Another one told him that it was when someone wears something in order to provoke risque texts, or gain attention from someone.

Ashton pouted, looking down at his appearance.  He was kind of sweaty, but he didn’t think that the fans would mind him being covered in dirt and sweat, it’s not as though they had to smell him.  Though, he would admit that he needed a shower. 

“Well, since my tomato plant has been… planted next to its’ friend, and I’m apparently thirst trapping you all, I should probably go shower and clean up.  Is me mentioning a shower thirst trapping as well?” Ashton rubbed his face over his hands, a small huff leaving his lips, “I don’t know… Fellow youths, tweet me and lemme know.  Also, may hold a poll later on what to name these guys.” He flipped the camera around, struggling for a moment, to show the sunflowers that were starting to sprout, “M’thinking of naming one Denise.  Just seems like a Denise.”

After his small speech was over, he ended the stream, grinning to himself.  He hadn’t meant to show off his body in such a way, but it was funny to know that even with him hardly doing anything but be himself they still lost their shit.

Glancing around at his garden, he felt himself swell with a mild sense of pride.  He was still a ways off from seeing any fruits of his labour (literally), but it made him feel good knowing he did something with his time at home, instead of slipping further into his mind which wasn’t always the kindest to him.

Ashton realized that when he was gardening, it was similar to songwriting in a way where all of his self doubts and fears went away and he could just pour himself into it - the reward being well worth the risk in the end.

Once his shower was done, he sat outside in his backyard, sipping his lemonade and enjoying the sunshine - realizing that having to stay home wasn’t all too bad, if it meant he could reset his mind, and do some small part to help how he could during that time.

tag list:  @haikucal​ @talkfastromance4​ @softbabiestan​ @boyfriend-cal​ @calum-uncrowned​ @wildflowerirwin​ @irwindoll​ @gosh-im-short​  @thesubtweeter​ @heavenisapeach​ @ridingcthood​ @loveroflrh​ @mantlereid​ @inlovehoodx​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​​ @g-l-pierce​ @thecurlsofgod​

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Wonwoo: Protector (Part Six)

Characters: Wonwoo x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, a lil crack at the end, smut (idk it’s pretty vanilla, biting/marking, cockwarming)

Word count: 3,068

Summary: If there’s one thing Wonwoo hates, it’s feeling helpless; like there’s nothing he can do to stop somebody he loves from getting hurts. It’s happened to him once before, and he swears it’ll never happen again. Especially not after he meets you.

Tag list: @choiminjae0325​​​​​ @heolykpop​​​​​ @fullsun-donghyuck​​​​​ @yoonbabe-d​​​​​​ @exuwu​​​​​ @lets-get-1t​​​​​​ @sooooofrench​​​​​​ @vintageot5​​​​​ @sehunnies-hunnie96​​​​ @luvhannie​​​​ @childfmoonn​​​​ @wobwobkpop​​​​ @henloimawierdobye​​​​ @dirinast​​​ @hhhhwww7​​ (if you wanna be added please send an ask or a dm!!)

Unable to tag: @uglyratlmao @joshwoah

Previous | Next | Protector Masterlist

Everybody was trying to forget about the banshee. They hadn’t heard anything from it since that night, and a few weeks had gone by. Wonwoo kept his focus on keeping your mind off of the events that happened with your home, and making sure you were safe. He still hadn’t spoken to you about what Jia insisted he tell you, but he figured it wasn’t the best time with everything going on.

Wonwoo also had to stay inside for a while. It wasn’t like he couldn’t go out to stretch his legs, but the alphas were nervous about him, Chan, or you going outside and running into a werewolf hunter that may be in the area thanks to Donghae. So he was sitting inside with you a lot, which was making him antsy. He couldn’t sit still and often became fidgety. He paced the house, and he even kept himself moving when he was sitting down. His fingers would drum against his thighs, the couch, the table, even against your skin when he pulled you to sit in his lap with him. The boy could not sit still for the life of him, but you couldn’t really blame him. Still, it could get a little distracting sometimes.

“Are you going to calm down anytime soon?” you giggled as you felt Wonwoo’s fingertips tapping against the outside of your thighs.

You were sitting between his legs on his bed, a book shoved in your face as your mate scanned the pages from behind you. But his constant fidgeting, his soft hums, and the grumbles of content coming from him were becoming a bit distracting. It wasn’t the bad kind of distracting where it was annoying, it was just something you were paying more attention to than your book.

“No,” he replied honestly, his fingers still tapping up a storm on your bare thighs. “I don’t think you understand how bored I am, _____. I literally can’t sit still.”

“I think you need to get that energy out,” you decided, closing your book and putting it off to the side.

You noticed that Wonwoo at least didn’t seem as stressed and distracted as he was back at your house, and you thought maybe it was because he was back in the same house with his sister -- and with you always with him, he couldn’t go out of his way to argue with her. He could focus on other things now – things that his instincts told him to do a while ago, but he couldn’t because he was too depressed over his sister. Now, those things were at the forefront of his mind, and he also knew that they’d be a great way for getting out this energy you were talking about.

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, his fingers starting to tap their way toward the inside of your thighs. “What’re my options?”

“Some of the boys are outside running around, I think,” you noted, hearing playful barking every now and then. “Probably to keep Chan entertained while he’s on lock down.”

“Is that it?” Wonwoo wondered, his voice lower and closer to your ear now, causing tingles to rush over your body. “You just want to go outside and watch me ‘run around’?”

“Well…did you have something else in mind?”

He hummed softly, pretending to think about it before he spoke, his fingertips softly caressing up your thigh, “I think I could show you better than I could explain it, but I’d like to have permission first.”

“Permission?”

“_____, I don’t think you know how long I’ve been pushing down these instincts because of everything else happening. I want you completely, and I want your permission for that.”

You snorted, turning in his lap to playfully whack his shoulder, “Jeon Wonwoo, that is the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said!”

“What?” he laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “You should’ve heard the story of how Josh asked Lilly if he could mark her. He asked if she was into biting.”

You let out a laugh, your head dropping to Wonwoo’s shoulder, “God, he’s more embarrassing than I remember.”

“Don’t start talking about your memories of Joshua,” he whined, his arms snaking around your waist to pull your body flush against his. “It’ll ruin the mood.”

“What mood?” you scoffed, figuring the mood had already shifted from what it was, to playful and giggly. “You brought it up in the first place, anyway!”

Before you could even get out another laugh, you were pinned flat on your back, Wonwoo’s hands holding your wrists down. He was leaning above you, his golden eyes spotting red already as he eyed you.

“Tell me if you want me to stop...” he told you lowly.

Slowly, you nodded, trying to process just how Wonwoo was able to shift the mood back so easily. But you didn’t have any intention of telling him to stop. Truthfully, you’d been wanting this as long as he had.

Wonwoo leaned down, his lips pressing softly against yours. He hummed into the kiss, and you could just feel how happy he was. His lips started moving from yours, down to your jaw, and down to your neck. His kisses were soft but eager as he tried to kiss every inch of your exposed skin that he could.

You felt his hands release your wrists to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging it up to expose more of your skin. A soft growl emitted from his chest as he looked you over, his lips moving lower toward your breasts.

“I really wanted to do something romantic for our first time,” he mused, his hands holding your waist and rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs, “but I just held everything in for so long…”

You opened your mouth to reply, but you words were cut off as his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around. Your eyes fell shut as you let out a sigh, your hands moving to his hair and carding through it. One of his hands moved up to your other breast, toying with your nipple with his thumb and forefinger. 

His hips impatiently rolled into yours, and you could feel him getting harder through his pants. He groaned against your skin at the feeling, thrusting into your clothed core. You let out a gasp at the sudden movement, causing him to smirk and glance up at you.

His lips moved elsewhere, moving down to your stomach and leaving open mouthed kisses there. They went lower and lower to your hips where he stopped to suck a mark right above the waistband of your shorts. You let out a soft whimper as his teeth nipped at your skin, your hips raising to him as your arousal pooled between your legs.

For someone who claimed to have been waiting so long, he really wanted to tease you beforehand.

Wonwoo chuckled at your eagerness, letting his tongue run over the forming red mark on your skin as his fingers pulled your shorts down. You lifted your hips to help him, your heart beating quickly in anticipation – and Wonwoo could hear it. He took his time slipping the clothing down your legs, raising his eyebrows almost mockingly as he watched you biting your lip as you waited.

Your mate hummed as his eyes drifted over the wet spot in your underwear, his red eyes darkening as his fingers slipped down between your legs, “Love, you’re already so wet for me. I didn’t think I’d have this much of an affect on you.”

One finger slid into your heat while his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. You let out soft moans as you reached up to cling to Wonwoo, hiding your face in his neck. Once he had you worked up enough, he added a second finger and began to scissor them inside you, stretching you out for him. You whined out his name, and he pulled away a bit to look at you.

“What is it, love?” he murmured.

“I need you,” you told him, causing him to grin almost evilly at how desperate you sounded, “I’m ready Wonwoo. Please, just I need you inside me.”

“What I wouldn’t give to hear you keep begging,” he sighed happily as he took his fingers out of your underwear. He stuck his fingers in his mouth, locking eyes with yours as he sucked them clean. “Or to keep tasting you.”

“Wonwoo…” you whined as your cheeks turned a deep pink.

“But I can’t wait either,” he decided, finally taking off your panties as he sat up.

You sat up as soon as you were completely naked, reaching for Wonwoo’s button-up that had the first two or three buttons undone already. You managed to get them undone despite your sweaty hands and shaky fingers. He smiled as he watched you, licking his lips as how badly you seemed to want him. His erection was becoming increasingly uncomfortable in his trousers but he couldn’t move away from you yet; he just wanted to watch his beautiful mate.

Once his shirt was undone, your fingers moved to the buttons of his pants. He slid his shirt off, dropping it to the floor where he’d left your clothes. When his button and zipper were undone, he stood to shove his pants off and let them pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them and knelt between your legs, stroking his hardened member as he stared down at you, laying on your back as you waited for him.

“God, you’re so beautiful, _____,” he mumbled, his deep red eyes scanning your body before coming back to your face with your hair splayed out around like a halo. “I’ve never seen anything or anyone as beautiful as you.”

Heat rushed to your face, but you didn’t move to cover the blush. Instead, you reached out to grab Wonwoo’s hands and pull him down for a kiss. He laughed against your lips, kissing you sweetly to distract you as he let go of one of your hands to line himself up with your entrance. You felt his tip rubbing up and down your slit, making you gasp at the feeling. He took that opportunity to deepen the kiss right as he slowly slid inside you. He could feel your body tense, probably from the stretch, so he paused his movements to let you adjust.

You felt his chest vibrating against yours from how good it felt to just finally do this. You knew as a werewolf, mating and marking was a huge priority for him. Both of you knew that you both were completely okay with it, but you both also had things to worry about. You never pressed Wonwoo to do anything because you knew how worried he was about Danbi, and even you were worried for their relationship. He didn’t want to do anything since your house was burned down, but you were doing your best to come to terms with the situation, and try to see the bright side of things: at least you could always stay with Wonwoo now.

As he waited for you to adjust to his size, he moved his hand to your clit, rubbing soft, slow circles to bring you some pleasure. You moaned into the kiss, your hands weaving through his soft locks.

“I-I’m okay,” you said with a shaky breath.

You didn’t know why you felt nervous. Wonwoo was somebody you loved and trusted – more than anybody, actually – so why were you so nervous about this? Maybe because it was your first time together and you wanted it to be perfect? Or maybe just because sex just made some people nervous?

Slowly, Wonwoo pulled his hips back before moving them forward at the same pace. He groaned, his face dropping into your shoulder, “God, you feel so good. You’re amazing.”

The speed of his hips picked up gradually, his lips wandering the expanse of your neck and chest. He tried to stay quiet, wanting to hear your moans and sighs and mewls as his hips snapped into yours with more and more intensity, but the growls and snarls that bubbled in his chest were hard to contain. 

His fingers sped up with his hips, his ministrations on your clit keeping pace with however hard and fast he decided to go with his thrusts. It wasn’t long until you were clinging to Wonwoo while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, trying to get you closer to your release, as he wasn’t going to last long, either.

“Are you going to cum for me, love?” he asked lowly, one hand holding himself up while the other continued to rub quick circles into your clit.

You nodded, whimpers coming from your mouth as you bit your lower lip, “I-I’m so–”

“I know, baby,” he cooed as his fangs elongated, grazing the skin of your shoulder. “Close your eyes and say my name nice and loud. I promise you’ll hardly feel a thing.”

Your hips bucked up, moving with his until your orgasm finally hit. You were unable to keep your eyes open as pleasure washed over you, and Wonwoo’s name fell from your lips. That was when you felt the slight sharpness in your shoulder, somehow intensifying the feeling of your orgasm.

“Oh god, Wonwoo!” you gasped, stars exploding behind your eyes as warmth filled you, and you heard Wonwoo let out a loud moan as his hips thrust messily through both your orgasms.

You came down slowly as Wonwoo’s fangs were removed from your shoulder. He laid on top of you while his tongue swiped over the mark, healing it faster. His weight was comfortable even though he was heavier than you, and you enjoyed playing with the soft locks of his hair. His hands held your hips, comfortingly rubbing your skin with his thumbs. He was even too tired to pull out of you, but neither of you seemed to mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his cheek resting on your shoulder as he looked up at you with his now-golden eyes.

You nodded, your eyelids starting to droop, “Better than okay.”

He chuckled quietly, starting to trace meaningless patterns on your skin. Outside, you could still hear the pack playing and running around to pass the time until they got tired out or bored -- whichever came first. You could also see the sun was starting to go down outside your window.

“Did you want me to get up?” Wonwoo wondered in a murmur. “Like…do you want to go clean up or something?”

“Can we nap first?” you asked, letting out a sleepy sigh. “This is comfortable.”

“I agree,” he decided with a smile, letting his own eyes close. “I love you so much, _____. Things are going to start getting better.”

“I know they will,” you agreed, starting to slowly drift off to sleep. “Things will always be okay as long as we’re together. I love you.”

“I love you more, my beautiful, marked mate.”

-

The only reason either of you woke up was because of the clap of thunder you heard. You jolted up, causing Wonwoo to roll off of you. He fell on the floor, but he was more concerned with covering his ears than caring about where he landed. The sound shook the whole house from how close it was, and it was followed by a bright flash of lightning that shone through the curtains. You let out a little scream from the surprise.

Wonwoo looked up from the floor, immediately going to you to comfort you, “Are you okay?”

You removed your hands from your ears, looking around, “What the fuck was that?”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Soonyoung shouted as his door hit the wall when he slammed it open.

The wolves gathered in the hallway again. Wonwoo and you joined them once you were covered and decent. The pack had obviously heard the thunder before, but they wanted to get to the bottom of who was doing it now. This was the third time it had woken them up.

“Which one of you fuckers is doing that?” Soonyoung demanded, looking around angrily at the pack – though it was hard for you to take the alpha seriously with his bad case of bedhead that caused his dark hair to stick out in all directions.

“The lightning?” Seokmin wondered.

“No, the slight wind outside,” Josh replied sarcastically.

“Yes! I wanna know who the fuck is striking the house with lightening!” Soonyoung demanded.

“Well,” you spoke up, knowing a bit about this thanks to Beom, “we can rule out Seungcheol, Joshua, Soonyoung, Jihoon, Minghao, and Chan. They already have powers, and they can’t have more than one.”

Suddenly, Seungcheol’s door opened, and out walked Jooyeon with a pocket knife. She looked more pissed off than afraid like she had before, but also like she had barely slept, if at all, “Whoever it is, can they stop?”

Junhui frowned, “Jooyeon, why do you have a knife?”

Seungcheol walked up behind her, his torso bare as he yawned and plucked the knife from her hand, “I told you to stop sleeping with this under your pillow.”

While the mated couple retreated back to their room -- the other mated couple hadn’t even come out since Jiwoo was crying again -- the rest of the pack continued to stand in their respective doorways, wanting to know who had the obnoxious power that was startling the pack and shaking the house.

“We’re not going to get anywhere with this!” Jihoon called over everybody’s bickering. “Let’s just go back to sleep. I don’t want to be awake longer than I need to be.”

“Amen,” Jeonghan scoffed before swiftly shutting his door.

“Besides, we shouldn’t ruin the night after Wonwoo finally marked _____,” Hansol smirked.

Heat crept up to your cheeks as your hand went to your neck where Wonwoo’s mark was now. The pack all looked at you, realizing that they did sense Wonwoo on you more strongly than before. They just hadn’t noticed sooner because of the situation.

“Wait, you fucked when we were all home?” Soonyoung gasped.

Seungkwan made a face, “Don’t call it that!”

“Yeah, goodnight, Soonyoung,” Joshua said as he walked over, pushed the alpha into the bedroom, and closed the door on him.

[kihaku-gato]

Random Webcomic Reccomendations

This post is dedicated to bringing to the spotlight several webcomics

(some would be considered webmanga but I’m counting them too since they are primarily presented on webcomic websites) which I’ve been enjoying that I hope can get more traction/fandom with this post. Due to my personal tastes I can say many/most have a sci fi or fantasy theming as well as some (definitely not all) have wlw as well.

Since this post will be quite extensive, I’ll first start with a “table of contents” for those who don’t want synopsises or ramblings, but instead just want titles and want to just check them out themselves.

Bybloemen

My Dragon Girlfriend

Sanguine

Straylight Tiger

Cariciphona

Amongst Us

Kiss It Goodbye

Mokepon

Seven Miles Down

UnDivine

Bybloemen

Hosted on its own website under hiveworkscomics

This is a historical semi-fantasy set during the infamous Tulip Mania period of Dutch/European history when people would pay an arm and a leg for even a single potentially valuable tulip bulb.

In this setting we follow two devils Basil and Ludwig and their avian familiars strut into the action, pretending to be foreign investors getting in on the tulip hype, probably to ensnare some desperate souls, all the while keeping man and beast alike from catching sus that they are not as human as they claim to be.

As of writing this the story is just starting up but is already making quite the unique statement. The distinct black and white artstyle is clearly holding homage to the historical “Woodcut” printmaking style in how it’s drawn, lined, and textured, which is a refreshing way to artistically state that the comic is “set in the past” w/o doing just grayscale or sepia tone that one is used to seeing for media set in historical times.

The interactions between the devils as well as the animals they can communicate with so far have been quite amusing.

If you don’t directly use hiveworkscomics for your usual webcomic browsing (so don’t get notified by it) they do have both a tumblr and twitter which frequently announce/link its updates. Bonus following their twitter/tumblr being you get to see occasionally “sketches” (I say that term very loosely) of the characters outside of the webcomic series if you’re into that.

 My Dragon Girlfriend

Available on Webtoons and Twitter

Fantasy alongside modern era setting. It is primarily a wlw webcomic series about a human girl named Christy who is swept off her feet by a dragon girl named Dani, semi-magical/mythical wlw hijinks ensue. It’s hard for me to pin its identity entirely, cause while I wanna say it’s a “Slice of Life” the webcomic is at the point where Dani is fighting a werewolf tooth and nail so it’s hard to pin. It’s clearly romance genre, as even if Dani and Chirsty end up together lickity split (a blink of the eye compared to the slow-burn of most romance stories) there are other wlw subplots going on with secondary primary characters which you’ll be routing for.

It has its steamy moments and implies sex but not so far as to show full-on nudity of the main characters characters. Though there is some nudity of some of the monstergirls such as the fawn girls on the other hand it does not beat around the bush with, but luckily takes the nudity in a natural non-sexual way Correction as of writing this; only the Twitter version shows nudity, they had to censor with bras on Webtoons cause it got flagged.

If you want it hotter/steamier, sign up to the artist’s patreon. It’s definitely a nice softish wlw webomic if you’re craving a lil monstergirl flavour.

 Sanguine

Available on Tapas and Webtoons

Full-on adventure fantasy setting set in a world where magic and mages have been persecuted to the point of going into secrecy.

It stars a cute red-riding-hood-like implied secret-royal (that was too much a mouthful) lady named Red, and a tall gorgeous beefy secretly mage lady named Morgan which Red has dragged into her shenanigans with.

It’s early to call this a wlw gem as of the current updates, but it is tagged as lgbt+ so take that with potential further wisdom.

This webcomic uses colour a fair bit to set its tone/mood, but otherwise has a very comfy/warm feeling about it somehow, like some of those old comics/webcomics/novels you would welcome to read while snuggled under blankets. Also the outfits are REALLY nicely designed, and I could definitely see some peeps having fun cosplaying many of these characters.

As the story slowly progresses I am holding with baited breath to how Red and Morgan’s interactions/relationship may or may not evolve, as I am totally an absolute sucker for “friendly/bubbly naïveish character dragging along the cool/grumpy don’t-get-involved character that has a hidden soft heart” trope.

  Straylight Tiger

Available on Webtoons and Tapas

WARNING- while infrequent this one has some blood/gore that will shake you up, though it puts it where it would be most sensible to. Lucky for you most blood in this series is not the usual human-red blood which tones the edge down.

It may have lots of fantasy elements but this one definitely holds its identity as Sci Fi. Set in a futuristic cyberesque city full of both good and bad superhumans (one group being animal shapeshifters and the other being elemental casters), there is an extremist cult out to wreck havoc in the city, so a company responds by recruiting a handful of individuals from all 3 races to make a secret task force to eliminate the threat.

The main character in this story is a secretly-a-tiger shapeshifter named Angeline.

This is probably the most visually colourful of the webcomics in my list and is really using it to charge up its stylistic sci fi setting. Best way I could compare it to; you know those glow-in-the-dark cyber avatars you occasionally see in VRchat? Straylight Tiger matches that visual energy. Of listed so far this is also the most action-packed webcomic on the list. I could almost call it a Trigger-like comic but luckily unlike Studio Trigger it’s not into going nuts on fanservice.

If you’re craving your superhuman sci fi action, this one should at least be checked out. I want to say there’ll be wlw at some point, but it’s too early to call, and if it does I would not expect it to be a major arc when it has larger fish for plot points to deal with.

If you’re craving wlw of at least mc and her weapons-savvy human friend, I highly recommend you checking out the artist Flying Frappe’s twitter to get some sating for you wlw cravings for the two.

 Caricophona

Available on webtoons as well as its own webcomic site

Tragic fantasy setting starring a supermagical woman named Veloice as she is hunted by an Assassin. I tag it as there is an undertone of death in some of the arcs, which give this colourfully magical world a more sombre tone. Among the webcomics on the list this one may be steepest when it comes to catching to speed of the world’s setting/rules/hierarchies but once you do you’ll hunger for this more.

I can’t entirely make a perfect comparison for it (Full Metal Alchemist is as close as I could compare and they are still as different to each other as apples and oranges) but it really has that rich nostalgic old manga style/world/tone to it, and its most welcome to as well.

The world building is rich, and Veloice is a mental/magical powerhouse even if at times she has a fragility about her. The fact she’s a Caricophona; magical beings which tend to either get persecuted or expire early at age from their own condition, definitely helps with giving her a almost “glass canon” energy about her.

While those points have definitely helped hook me in, the thing that tends to excite me the most in this webcomic is Veloice’s interactions with the assassin who’s been send to kill her, named Blackbird. The tension between them, the fact Blackbird both wants to toy with her, Blackbird’s somewhat flirtatious nature towards Veloice OMFG I EAT IT UP!!!! They have such a enemies to lovers feeling to them (though no, they are not lovers- we can dream though) which just gets you so excited.

I should also mention there are two other “primary characters” in the group. Two rich naïve kids ready to help Veloice however they can. You grow to like them (even if they hit tropes that may strike a nerve if you’re tired to their character type), but the mvp of this webcomic for character and interaction has to be Veloice and Blackbird.

 Amongst Us

Available on webtoons and its own website

Say you like Veloice and Blackbird from the previous webcomic, but find the hefty fantasy setting a bit too much, and you’re more for the romance? What if I told you the artist was galaxy brained enough to make a chiller AU? That is what Amongst Us is; a music college-set slice of life with a slow burn romance between Veloice and Blackbird. They’re dorky, their cute, and seeing some of the characters you’re familiar with in Caricophona in a different setting is nice to see.

In some ways Veloice is less proactive in Amongst Us but still feels very in-character of her. The webcomic would end pretty quick if Veloice were to get-to-the-point with Blackbird after all (granted with how we see them in the future together at the start of the webcomic it’s not like they have to be in a hurry anyways).

Seeing a wlw / slice of life set in a college setting rather than a high school setting is extremely welcome. Please, more of this.

 Kiss it Goodbye

Available on Webtoons

Slice of Life high-school beginnings of wlw romance. The artstyle is good, the characters are lovely. We know canonically that they end up together (as the webcomic starts with them in the future where they are a couple, as they begin to weave the story to their curious friends wanting to know how their romance came to be).

It’s not an unwelcome Slice of Life.

 BONUS / HONORABLE MENTIONS

 Mokepon

Available on h0lyhandgrenade’s website

I have honestly not read this one in a while and dropped it like, several years ago, but it was interesting and is still ongoing, so I had to mention it. Set in the Pokemon universe, it stars the main character who has been thrown into the pokemon trainer career while absolutely wanting nothing to do with it. Ends up becoming a rocket grunt which is an interesting change of perspective from many pokemon fancomics. It has old-nuzelocke energy though it is not a Nuzelocke. Be prepared for the brutality as you cry for the pokemon (especially his pikachu). The undying loyalty of his Charmander as he himself struggles with his position as a trainer/grunt is interesting. He is definitely not the usual pokemon trainer protag you’re used to.

 Seven Miles Down

Available on Webtoons

A completed oneshot psychological horror where a girl takes her submarine to the deepest unventured oceanic trench in the world. Tragic end, but horrors can be like that. The psychological nature of the horror is an interesting angle. The rounded cute style may throw you off but it works.

 UnDivine

Availabe on its own website via hiveworkscomics

This comic has since been cancelled from continuation, but is the webcomic to set me off in making this list, so it will still be mentioned in memory/tribute, and is the grand example of why you should interact with the webcomics you read as well as share them; there is a good chance they will not hold on their own without fan interaction and traction. Excuse me as I just use two full-on pages cause I’m wearing out on this list and browsing through tons and tons of pages for highlights wears a peep out.

Modern-set religious fantasy on an island where local their religion may be more than it seems. Stars a boy named Daniel, and Esther the Demon girl. From what can be gleaned the Demongirl knew the “god” of the island’s religion and was double crossed, so has a bone to pick with them and their “angelic” entourage now that she’s free when she got accidentally summoned by Daniel.

This webcomic loves its use of blood, but your grow used to it after a point. The setting is interesting, and its also cool to see how the “angels” are far from the usual “pretty human-like” in their true form and are instead more monstrous than you could say even the Demon Esther is.

A lot of what makes this comic interesting, outside of the “revenge against a god” main plot going on, is how messy the characters can be.

Daniel, Esther, and the one angel named Manual are all pretty interesting in how they interact with their roles that they’ve been put in and how they react to others, and are all very morally grey complex characters.

Daniel is an angst machine who tends to really wear himself out (though how he’s positioned/pressured by the world doesn’t help) and shoot himself in the foot a lot, and that’s even before Esther “turns” him into her lil monstrous pawn, not something you commonly see in main characters from the get-go.

Esther (the tall blondie) while being a Demon ready to get her vengeance on is in many ways naïve/childlike despite her powerful nature, and despite using Daniel as her pawn is shown to grow to have feelings/care for Daniel which is very interesting for “The Contracted Devil” position.

Manual…. We haven’t gotten to see a lot but it’s clear he’s meant to be the angelic hero position but its clear he does not like the position, and he also has a thing for a human woman named Rosamaria but we have not gotten to see why that’s the case.

This webcomic didn’t get the traction it needed to keep going, so was recently cancelled by the artist.

[clockworkgraystairs]

I just went a read all your pregnant Jurdan hcs and my gosh, they were so amazing!! If you want and can, could you write one where Jude and Cardan tells the court of shadow crew personally about her being pregnant. I feel like they are her second family tbh.

Hi there!! Sorry it took me a long to write this, but it’s finally finished!!

You’re totally right, they are like a second family to her and deserve all the love and respect! 🧡

Also, thank you so so much for your lovely comment!

Scheming great schemes masterlist

Read on AO3 here!

Tags: @thesirenwashere

If I was supposed to tag somebody else PLEASE forgive me and let me know! (it’s like 2 am and I’m not thinking straight rn) 

SCHEMING GREAT SCHEMES:

The Court of Shadows finds out Jude’s pregnant

(aka Cardan is being overprotective again)

Three weeks had passed since Jude learned she was pregnant. Still, they chose not to make the official announcement until the Full Moon festivities, which lasted almost a week. 

Cardan’s wish was to shout it from their balcony the same day his wife had told him, and then throw a revel for two full weeks. But Jude had convinced him to wait, not wanting to make more fuss than the strictly necessary, which being honest, was going to be a lot. 

At the moment, only three people besides her and Cardan knew about it: Vivi, Taryn and Heather. Even if Jude was dying to see Asha’s incredulous face she’d decided to make her wait until the official announcement. Telling her before would make her feel important. Jude was decided to show her the exact opposite. 

Still, she could feel Asha’s eyes following her everywhere, always calculating. Almost suspicious. Could she know something already? And if she did, why staying silent?

Jude inhaled deeply and lifted her hand to her belly, she needed to stop being so paranoid. 

Her mind kept thinking about it while she entered the Court of Shadows hideout. Jude usually went there when she wanted to train or work without being bothered. It was calm and quiet and-

She stopped in her tracks as she realized the place was not empty. In fact, one could say it was quite crowded.

The Ghost, Roach and the Bomb stood in the middle of the room, and to Jude’s surprise, Cardan was in front of them. They were serious enough that she could almost believe there was a war approaching. She rushed to them with furrowed eyebrows.

“This is top priorit-” Cardan paused, noticing her. “Jude.”

The others turned and nodded, welcoming her. Still, something alarmed in their eyes that made Jude’s shoulders tensed immediately.  

“What’s wrong?” She asked. 

She reached Cardan, her fingers itched to take his, but this was a serious meeting. Maybe later. His expression was unreadable, one that he usually had when his mind was solely focused on a single issue.

“I meant to talk to you later but, I guess now is a good moment as any. From now on, Jude, the Court of Shadows will be your personal guard.” Her what?! She stared at her husband wide eyed. “They shall accompany you on every step and make sure nothing will-” 

“Personal guard?” What on earth was going on? She gazed back to the others, looking for a reasonable explanation. “Did I miss something?”

The Bomb stepped forward and gave a slight bow. “You have my word Your Highness, that no harm will come to the High Queen, no matter the threat.” 

She looked at Jude solemnly, frowning a bit. 

Ok she’d definitely missed something. 

“Can someone please explain why am I to be protected?” Jude crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at Cardan.

He cleared his throat, looking back to their friends. “Your safety has always been important to me, wife.” 

She didn’t buy it, he wasn’t even making eye-contact with her. Suddenly, something clicked inside her brain. 

That idiot.

“Cardan.” 

“Roach and Ghost, you will be with her at all hours. On council meetings, one of you will be inside with her and the other one outside guarding the door. When she retires to sleep, one will be outside the room and the other may go to rest. You-”

“Cardan” She repeated louder this time. He didn’t answer.

“...will report to me of every suspicious movement around her, no matter where it comes from.” He turned to Bomb. “Lilliver, you will be in charge of the perimeter, you are the best at it. Also when Jude needs to bathe or something, l trust you to be with her and assist if she-”

“Oh my god, stop!” Her fists were now tightened at her sides. She wasn’t sure of who to punch first. 

“Jude” The Bomb started, her voice soothing. “It is ok, whatever threat is coming we will not let it reach you.”

“Is there an actual threat upon me, my King?” The way she was glaring at him could make dozens run for their lives, but he just returned her look with strange adoration. She wanted to slap him so hard. 

“Come on Queeny, you can let us protect you for once.” Roach teased, standing next to the Bomb. “It will not make you look less terrifying than usual, no offense.” 

“No one will dare to question that.” Cardan concealed, with that irritating and charming smile of his.

“I am not saying…” She sighed. “I do not need any protection. Whatever nonsense Cardan told you please just forget it.”

“They shall not.” 

Cardan’s voice was back to that autoritary tone. When she get to be alone with him…

At some point the Bomb had approached her and took her hand. “If something is frightening you Jude, we can start investigating it immediately.” 

“I am not scared!” Jude jerked back her hand. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she groaned deeply. “I’m… gods… I’m pregnant ok?”

Raising her gaze again she found the three of the Court frozen in their places. Roach and the Bomb mouth-opened. The Ghost with an eyebrow raised. All of them wide eyed. All of them turning to Cardan in a single motion. Jude found herself biting down a laugh from their incredulous faces. 

Cardan shrugged as if it didn’t change anything. Still, the intensity of his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. 

After a couple of seconds in complete silence, something finally exploded. The Bomb let out a sharp squeal that startled even Roach before throwing herself at Jude in a tight hug, which she answered a little clumsy at the beginning, unused to such displays of affection from her. 

Roach laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh I see now. I knew there was something odd about all of this but…” He swore, still cackling. “Congratulations you both!”

On the other hand, the Ghost looked as if he’d just solved a big mystery. “Ah, I noticed Taryn was keeping some sort of secret from me, got me worried for a while.” He sighed and smiled at the couple, congratulating them as well. 

In all of that time, the Bomb hadn’t let go of Jude, murmuring surprise words and happy nonsense about teaching their baby how to hide and be a spy. Jude didn’t know if being delighted or terrified, but couldn’t contain her smile at her friend’s joy. 

At some point, the Ghost, who Jude never noticed leaving, came back to the room with food, wine and juice. That last one probably for her. They sat on the cushions and carpets and talked, teased and laughed, Jude telling them the story of how she’d found out she was pregnant.

Cardan, who had already came down from his ‘King mode’, joined their happiness and jokes, thanking them for their words. He reach for Jude, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. Watching her with something between love and wariness. “I hope you all have a better understanding now of why her security is priority from now on.”

Jude rolled her eyes, and took his hand. “I get your motives, but you’re really exaggerating, I do not need… well, all of that!”

“Oh no no, stop right there Jude.” Roach said. “Not even a cold breeze is going to touch that belly of yours, I am telling you.”

The other two nodded in agreement. The Bomb suggesting something about not letting anyone even approach Jude without proper previous inspection. 

She stared at them wide eyed. Those traitors. Cardan flashed her a triumphant grin.

Roach noticed Jude’s betrayed glare and shrugged. “Sorry lass, but even if we were not given royal commands to protect you, we would anyway. It may seem like you do not need it now but… it is not of public knowledge yet.” 

“Once it is,” The Bomb continued. “It will be impossible to guess the reactions among the folk. Better to be prepared for anything.”

“Thank you both, my wife is a little stubborn. But I will not take any risks.” Cardan’s grip on her hand tighten a bit. His voice so soft and full of gratitude it made Jude’s chest shrink. 

She sighed, knowing any further excuse would lead nowhere. She really understood, still, being guarded the whole time felt strange. Could she deal with it?

Unless...

“Don’t you think that making Lil stay with me while I bathe is a little too much?” She asked, taking a casual sip from her cup.   

Cardan pulled her closer and laid his chin on her head. “When it comes to you, my love, there is no such thing as ‘too much.’” 

Jude nodded. Raising her hand she started caressing his jaw, trailing her movements down to his neck, slower every inch. She muttered “I just thought you would be a better companion for me on that moment, that’s all. You could keep me close and... well observed the whole time.”

She practically heard his heart skip a beat. He swallowed, and made a low growling sound intended only for her. 

Someone cleared his throat, making them look back at their companions. 

The Roach was trying so hard not to laugh while watching the Bomb. She’d stopped chewing her food and stared at nothing, dramatically uncomfortable. The Ghost kept eating as if he didn’t hear anything, a mocking little smirk on his lips.

Heat climbed up Jude’s cheeks, she hadn’t realized they were being that obvious. Then again, it wasn’t like Cardan didn’t enjoy the attention. 

He chuckled, probably knowing what she was thinking, and raised his cup. “To you, my friends. For everything you have done for us, and what you are still willing to do. I will never find a way to show you how thankful I am.”

Jude mimicked him, her cup filled with grape juice. “You are family to us too, please never forget that.”

Glasses were raised, a couple of tears spilled and more hugs were given. This was one of those moments when Jude didn’t feel like the world was folding over her. She could breathe easily, and laugh in that little bubble of trust and love. Worries like ruling a kingdom, the former Court of Teeth, Lady Asha, nothing mattered now. Just this, just them.

Soft lips pressed to the base of her neck, startling her. She turned to Cardan as his arms surrounded her. “You look happy.” He mumbled. It was not a question. 

Jude cupped his cheek and grazed his mouth. Behind her, the Bomb said something like: “They just keep doing that in front of me, gods why?” 

They ignored her. Cardan chuckled, his chest shaking against hers. 

“I am.” She answered, finally pressing their lips together.