#i did skip on but it's a wip and i may take it down

[thebiggerbear]

WIP Wednesday - 9/18/24 - Beau Arlen x Reader

A/N: Something I've been working on since late last year. Any specific spoilers have been taken out.

Warnings: a smidgen of smut/implications; language

Your phone buzzed from where it sat on the floor, presumably where you’d dropped it the night before as you both stumbled into the room, lips and limbs locked while clothes flew everywhere. The vibration broke into your reverie when you heard it again. It was probably Jenny texting you to check in. You really should move to get it to answer her, but you hated to disturb Beau after such a late night, where you’d kept him going like the damn Energizer bunny. Plus, you were nice and warm here against him, all cozy and snuggled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you and pinning you to him, the cold chill of the morning kept at bay. You were in no hurry to leave your toasty cocoon, or to rush back to reality. You burrowed your head into his chest and closed your eyes, content to stay there. There was no way you were moving right now; you’d text Jenny as soon as you could muster the courage to move one bare foot from under the covers and place it on the cold ground.

A minute later, you began to have all-too familiar pangs and you nearly moaned in frustration. You were going to have to get up whether you wanted to or not. You mentally cursed out your bladder and attempted to carefully extract yourself from Beau’s grip. You were just about free when his arm suddenly tightened around you and brought you back towards him, his eyes open and intent on you. “Where’re you running off to, sweetheart?” His voice was deeper than usual, evidence of sleep still masking it. He had phrased the question in a teasing way, like always, but underneath you swore you could detect a tiny layer of hurt. As if you would have just skipped out the door while he was still asleep, no note left behind, no goodbye, nothing. Sure, you both may have had one hell of a one night stand, but he was still your best friend; you could never do that to him.  

You slipped your fingers up into his hair, tenderly stroking his scalp and making his eyes close halfway. He loved it when you did that. “To the bathroom,” you reassured him, noting the relief that began to saturate his features. “I really have to go. I think my bladder might explode.”

He had been pressing a tender kiss to your wrist when he let out an amused chuckle. “It’s not going to explode.” He released you and gave you a warm smile. “But all the same, you should go take care of business.” 

You gave him a nod and got to your feet, grimacing. You had been right; the floor was cold as hell. You grabbed his shirt and quickly slipped it on, only doing up a few buttons to give you basic coverage. You glanced back at him to find him watching you, his smile suddenly melting into a smirk and his eyes darkening slightly. Uh oh.

“Make sure you hurry back, darlin’.”

You watched as he placed an arm behind his head and laid fully on his back, making the very obvious tent underneath the sheet covering him stand tall. Your eyes widened slightly and you felt the pangs of something else stirring, flooding you with memories of just how well Beau had fucked you with that last night. You pressed your teeth into your lip to keep from moaning out loud when you saw him move the sheet away and wrap his hand around his erection, slowly sliding his hand up and down. 

“I thought you were going.” Your eyes met his and you could see the teasing gleam that was all too present. 

Normally, you would have teased back but right then you couldn’t care less about his cockiness. All you did was want. You felt a familiar ache between your legs that you had felt last night and it wasn’t the soreness. Besides, two could play that game.

“I suddenly don’t have to go anymore.” You made your way back onto the bed, slowly crawling up his legs to right where his hand was, wetting your lips with your tongue. 

His free hand lifted your chin to look at him. “Go. Like I said, just hurry back. Or I’ll come in and take care of this in the shower while you watch.” Seeing his dark gaze and hearing his voice dip in register, in addition to the very naughty images he put in your head just then, you were tempted to mount him right there, your bladder be damned. 

“You know, I’m technically a guest and a guest should automatically get breakfast,” you purred, running your fingers teasingly up his length until they met his. 

“Breakfast, huh?” He suddenly lunged forward, smacking his hands onto your ass and pulled you into his lap, making you squeak loudly in surprise. He yanked his shirt down enough to engulf your nipple into his mouth, eliciting a gasp from you and forcing you to coil your fingers into his hair, holding him that much closer to you. You felt his erection rubbing into you from behind and you moved back against it, moaning quietly. He released your nipple with a pop and trailed his lips up to your neck. Your fingers tightened their grip on him, and you began to rock yourself a little more fervently against him. You wanted him badly, and if you didn’t get what you wanted in the next few seconds, you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“Baby,” he murmured into your ear. “I’ll give you all the breakfast you want if you go take care of business and come right back.” He nibbled at your earlobe and then moved back to your neck, feasting on that spot he had found last night and making your eyes cross.

Fuck.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this upcoming work.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[feralkwe]

first 10 lines challenge

rules: post the first line of the last ten (or as many as you’re able to) works you’ve published and see if there are any patterns!

i was tagged by @azems-familiar

gonna tag @yamisnuffles (when she's back), @icescrabblerjerky (when they're back), @leggywillow, and @zeph0r (because i want to encourage her!). also if anyone else wants to play, feel free!

you

Elidibus' eyes—Ardbert's eyes—shifted from cold and narrowed to... something else entirely.

bad at love

The sun blazed over Iq Br'aax, and Kit happily turned her face up to meet it.

memories bring back memories

Lahabrea had, as Elidibus could have predicted if anyone had cared to ask, failed.

absence

The quiet beneath the Tempest sometimes stretched on so long that Emet-Selch forgot sound was an option.

let us listen to the moon

It had only been weeks for Kit, both prior to and after arriving on the First, but it had been years for the other Scions.

dream on

"There is something different about you."

what about us?

Thancred was gone when Kit woke up.

thnks fr th mmrs

"Kit? What are you doing here?"

to the edge (and back again)

At first it was warm.

i don't think there is really a pattern here. sometimes i like a short, punchy opener, sometimes i like a challenge of stringing clauses together, i guess. i also tend to introduce the pov character right away if i can, but not always. huh. fun.

thanks for the tag! 8D

[littlemochabunni]

1-800-TROUBLE

Serial Killer!Suguru Geto x Bimbo!Fem reader

Content: MDNI, WIP, (lowkey... probably highkey..) bimbo reader, blood and homicide mention, fuckboys victims;

smut might include: daddy kink, breeding kink, degrading + praise, c-pies, possibly knife play idk yet.

WC: 644 so far

On your way home from a party you take a few wrong turns, and when you try to call your…. Overprotective boyfriend your phone dies before you get the chance to tell him the cross streets you’re at. With it being late on Halloween night, most of the house porch lights are off your feet continue to carry you down this foreign neighborhood until you hope to see someone could help you. Tear begin to sting your eyes with each street corner you turn, and the nip fall air strips you of any warmth from your cropped puffer jacket Suguru made you wear before you left. You definitely wish you listened when he warned you repeatedly to charge your phone too…

Police sirens are blaring in the far distance from where you originally started which means only one thing… “One of the officers can take me home!” Right…

Trying to follow the sounds to guide you out of the maze of houses you’re lost in. You find a group of men sitting in an open garage, drinking with the tv on in the background. **Although you know Suguru told you not to talk to strangers especially when they’re drunk, what other people were around that could possibly help you?**

“Excuse me? Hi, I’m like super lost…Can I borrow your phone or a charger please?” Every one of their eyes graze over your body before meeting your eyes, and of course the man that looks like the embodiment of a Chad speaks up first, “ooo a sweet bunny girl like you all alone? Need me to come warm you up?” You glance around the garage spotting the space heater near the couch he’s sitting on and a bright smile appears on your face. “It would be nice to get out of the cold while I charge my phone!” You happily skipping inside the garage to sit near the heater and immediately feel so much better now that your off your feet… Little did you know that with this little interaction…. you won’t be back on your feet anytime soon.

All eyes are on you and your like a innocent hare unaware of the foxes preying in the tall grass.

“So you gotta a name sweetheart?” Asked the store-brand version of Derek Shepherd. “Uhh I’m a bunny, duhh?” The men all blink at you before bursting out in a fit of laughter. You don’t understand how that was hilarious, but you’ll take it as a compliment. “Funny and cute… But seriously what’s your real name?”

Hearing that emergency number Suguru always tells you to remember if your lost coming from the braking news announcement about some house party incident. You focus on the tv and ignore ‘Chad’s’ questions, “Hey can you turn the tv up? I think I know that number.” The extra quiet man, who remains you of your friends creepy uncle Lester, turns up the tv and it retells the gruesome murders of the house party that just occurred half an hour ago….

“The next image we show may disturb some viewers…”

Grumbles and tsk scatter among the men around you as they get a glance at the gruesome writings on the wall. You squint your eyes as you notice a simpler stamp Suguru uses when he writes you love letters…. Your stomach drops at the thought of someone using that beautiful stamp for something so… horrifying.

“This message along with a description of the women and the phone number were left at the scene of the crime…” The woman proceeds to describe you from the hair on your head to the holographic boots you’re wearing. The men in the garage are too drunk to realize that you’re exactly what the killers wants, “Please if anyone has any information regarding this women… please call: 1 (800) 876-8253… That’s 1-800-……TROUBLE… Again that number is 1-800-876-8253…”

a/n:Might not be the entire planned posted I wanted but it’s some of it…. it still counts right?🥹

tags: @etherealxmaya @tojisbutterfly @fuyuaika @peachy-dove @hoshigray @bontensbabygirl @tophamhat-kyo @princess-of-fuckup @moonieper @dondake-senpai

[missmonsters2]

—Just Like Silk

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is a rigid person. She wears the same type of clothes everyday, eats the same thing every morning, and always wears her hair in braids. You find something exhilrating about undoing all those things—undoing her.

Warnings: the intimacy is real

Masterlist || Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: just a little something as I cry over my other wips 🫶 Likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated 💘

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday will never be the type of person to say the words, 'I love you,' even if she feels them. They could build in her chest and claw at the back of her throat, but they will never make it past her lips. 

The words themselves are incomprehensible. It carries too much and nothing at the same time, and Wednesday may never be ready to release them into the air where she can't monitor them. 

Love is flexible, and Wednesday is a very rigid person. 

The day starts the same way it always does. She wakes up at exactly 6:15AM, dresses in her monochrome clothing, and braids her hair neatly. After ensuring her bangs are brushed four times, she wakes Enid up before leaving for the cafeteria. 

The cafeteria is usually empty at this hour, with many students still sleeping and dreading their day. It's something Wednesday likes to soak in the quiet morning hours. She gets a tray and grabs the same thing she does every morning: a slice of toast with jam, much too sweet, and orange juice that will undoubtedly taste horrid after brushing her teeth. 

Wednesday's about to leave when her eye catches a small cup of fruit. It's filled with slices of strawberries and grapes, seemingly the last one, as the other cups are filled with apples and bananas.

Wednesday clenches her jaw, her hands tightening on the tray slightly. She begrudgingly grabs it, places it in the top left corner of her tray, and briskly walks to an empty table. She can already hear the miserable moans of students who are already awake and feels herself relax at it. 

As she grabs the little packet of salt and rips it open, someone slumps beside her on her left.

"G'morning," you mumble sleepily as you fight back a yawn and rub your right eyelid delicately. 

"You've been up early." Wednesday skips the greeting as she sprinkles the salt on her toast. "Why?"

You smile lazily at her and rest your temple against your hand on the table. You point at the fruit cup on her tray, and Wednesday makes no movement to suggest you can or cannot take it, but you do. 

"Because if I'm not, you'll have grabbed the fruit cup for nothing," you tell her as you pop a slice of strawberry in your mouth. 

"Are you suggesting that I'm grabbing it for you?" Wednesday's tone is threatening, and her eyes are narrowed at you. 

"I would hope you are," you pop a grape into your mouth. "I'll be upset if you're grabbing fruit cups for other people. That's a terrible thing to do to your girlfriend."

The words do something to Wednesday, making her both miserable and filled with pride. 

All of this was new to Wednesday, but if she was honest, the beginning of you didn't disrupt her life. Yes, there had been times she was vexed because of you and what you made her feel, but you didn't disrupt her rigidity. 

Wednesday had still woken up at the same time, did the same things in the morning, and ate the same foods. 

Until recently, it seemed. 

Usually, you weren't up until just before the bell rang, often forgoing breakfast for sleep. Then suddenly, you showed up one day, five minutes after Wednesday sat down. You didn't have much of an appetite in the morning, but you looked on in envy at one of the students eating a fruit cup with strawberries and grapes as they typically were the first to be gone. 

And Wednesday had watched you stare at the fruit cup. 

"You think too highly of yourself," Wednesday's narrowed eyes relaxed. "I'm merely taking it to deprive others—"

You shoved a grape into her mouth, smiling innocently as Wednesday looked murderous.

"You should eat some fruit in the morning, ma diable. It's good for you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You've been disruptive lately, and you know it. 

It's hard not to push Wednesday's boundaries, knowing she'll let you in it. She may grumble and threaten your life, but she quietly does. She may never tell you she loves you but, quite frankly, this was better.

You had woken up early one day on a whim, and it had nothing to do with disrupting Wednesday and all to do with the fact you simply missed her. And then the next day, when you showed up early again, Wednesday had been waiting for you with a fruit cup. There was no promise you'd be there early again, but Wednesday had done it, and that could only mean that she hoped you would be there. 

So, sacrificing some sleep for your murderous girlfriend, who always saved you the best fruit cup, was well worth it. 

And now, on a Thursday evening with it pouring outside, you were about to be disruptive again. 

You watched as Wednesday typed stoically, her hands never hesitating. She worked methodically, the story endlessly pouring from her mind and her hands working in tandem. 

When Wednesday returns the carriage, you see your opportunity. 

"Wednesday," you call softly from her bed, grabbing her attention as she looks at you without moving her head. 

"What?" Wednesday looks back at her paper.

"It's raining."

"Stellar observation."

You smile at her. "It's raining, so come keep me company."

"We are in each other's company, are we not?"

"Come actively keep me company."

Wednesday furrowed her brows, her lips pursed in displeasure. She turned fully to you, and you knew it could go either way. "You know I write every day for an hour," Wednesday reminded you.

You nodded. "I know, and tomorrow you'll have an hour, and the next day after that, and the next day after that." Sitting up, you look at her more clearly. "But today is the only Thursday evening with thunderous rain and my shifting desire for you to keep me company."

"Are you saying you won't want my company the next time it rains on a Thursday evening?" Wednesday's looked even more displeased and threatening. 

"I suppose we'll only know the next rainy Thursday," you nonchalantly retorted. 

It was silent as Wednesday debated it; your breath caught in your chest. When she sighed, you smiled wider. Wednesday stood up and walked over to her bed, sitting at the edge rigidly. 

"What do you want to do?" Wednesday asked to deflect how weirdly awkward she felt right now. "I've had enough of beating you at scrabble, so not that."

You chuckled without answering as you leaned over towards her, lifting your hand gently to grab her braid and dragging your hand down softly until it reached the end. 

"Wednesday, I've never seen you with your hair down," you commented.

Wednesday remained rigid.

"Yes," her voice was stiff. "I only take them out before bed."

You hummed, playing with her braid. 

"Wednesday," you called softly again, and Wednesday almost wanted to command you to stop saying her name like that. Except, she can't. She enjoys the way you say it.

"Can I undo your braids?"

The rain thumps against the window roughly, and Wednesday was glad it covered how harshly her own heartbeat was against her chest. It beat with a mission to break her rib cage. 

"You can say no," you told her softly. 

Wednesday closed her eyes. As much as the word 'no' was in her vocabulary, she nodded once stiffly. You pulled at her, and she let you guide her to sit further on the bed. You sat facing her side as you softly grabbed a braid, gently removing the black elastic at the end. 

Wednesday braids her hair so often that it stays in its form without the elastic. But as you start to weave your fingers through the strands of her hair, gently undoing the work she'd done this morning, something starts clawing at the back of her throat. 

You looked at Wednesday as her hair fell like water through your fingers. Her eyes were closed with concentration, and every time she swallowed, you could see it. 

It was silent as you worked on the second braid, dragging your fingers through her dark hair. When it was in their neat braids, they were contained and distinguished. But undone, they were wild waves and slipped through your fingers unless you endeavored to tame them. 

You continued to run your fingers through her hair, even after the braids were undone, watching as the strands slipped from you.

"Your hair is just like silk," you said just seconds before there was a crack of thunder. 

Wednesday didn't comment. Her hands were tightly gripped in her lap to the point where her knuckles were white. 

You brush her hair over her shoulder, the waves cascading down her back like beads of water. Your hand slid against her jaw as you cupped the back of her neck. 

You pulled and pulled at her, and she let you until you were sharing the same air. 

"Wednesday," you murmur, your lips brushing against hers. Wednesday visibly swallowed, her eyes opened and intently looked at you, but you're looking at her lips. 

You kiss her tenderly, then. It would've been more chaste if Wednesday hadn't insisted on pressing against your lips more firmly and lingered. When you pulled back, your thumb caressed the bottom of her lip.

"Wednesday," you said her name, and Wednesday didn't think you knew how disruptive it also was in the way you said her name. "Your lips are soft just like silk, too."

"I see this has been your agenda all long as of late," Wednesday's voice is quiet as she basks in your scent and cold fingers. You had such terrible circulation, and she's obsessed with it. "You're suave at being disruptive."

Wednesday bit your bottom lip before her tongue smoothed it over. 

"Just like silk."

[onceuponastory]

ball of fluff - bucky barnes

Plot: Bucky tells Y/N how he met Alpine. Pairing: BestFriends!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (but maybe there's something more there... 👀 it's me, of course there is) Warnings: A few mentions of Bucky's past as The Winter Soldier, and how we was used and controlled without his consent. Also includes mentions of how Bucky hates himself for what he did, and the nightmares he has. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: Hey, I finally finished a WIP, hahaha. And it's another episode of "this was supposed to be a drabble but it's over 1k words."

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Morning.” Y/N smiles, walking into the kitchen at Avengers HQ. The room is mostly empty, aside from Bucky. He lounges on the couch, scrolling through his phone and laughing to himself about something on the screen. When Y/N sits beside him, he murmurs a greeting before immediately going back to laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s just Alpine.” Bucky replies. “Look, I got him a new toy mouse a few days ago, and he’s already destroyed it.” He grins, holding out his phone to show her the picture. Y/N leans in, laughing when she sees the picture, especially the satisfied look on Alpine’s face. It’s nice, seeing Bucky laughing like this, sounding so happy. Although, it is a little weird.

Because Bucky looks so intimidating usually, the master of a death glare. And yet here he is, making cute cooing noises and laughing over pictures of his cat like a completely different person from what history and the news will tell you. But she likes this version of Bucky a lot.

Well, she likes everything to do with Bucky Barnes a lot. Like the way he always makes her heart skip a beat, or how she always has a lovesick smile on her face whenever she’s around him. She just can’t bring herself to tell him that though.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Y/N asks, her brow raised. “How did you find Alpine?” Bucky’s own brows furrow.

“You’re asking that like it’s a weird question.”

“I just mean, knowing you, I thought you found him on a mission somewhere and rescued him from an evil base, from some supervillain like in James Bond.” She chuckles. “Screw damsels in distress, you rescue cats in distress!” She grins.

“What is it you actually think I do?” Bucky raises a brow, yet can’t stop another grin from tugging at the corner of his mouth. A sight that makes Y/N’s smile grow just that little wider. God, she’s got it bad.

“You know, superhero stuff.” Y/N shrugs, and Bucky chuckles.

“Well, I may be a hero, but I found Alpine in a perfectly normal way.…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One year ago….

The room is filled with noise, and Bucky awkwardly fiddles with his gloves. He really should take them off at some point. New year, new him and all that. And, of course, being pardoned helps as well. That one might take a little longer, though. This task is small, and manageable. Although, when you have spent your entire life being used as a weapon and fighting space monsters on the regular, everything seems minor in comparison.

Right now though, it feels huge, like when they first faced down Thanos for the first time. Or when he came back to earth after being gone for five years and became a man out of time all over again. 

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” The voice of a staff member makes him jump slightly. He’s still not used to this, to being noticed and to being someone, to being Bucky Barnes, rather than a weapon used and controlled without his consent. Rather than The Winter Soldier.

To be honest, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be used to it. 

“Hi. I was thinking of getting a pet. I was thinking about a cat, but I’m open to anything, really.” Of course Bucky doesn’t tell him it’s because he’s so alone, and thinks he might lose his mind again if he’s alone any longer. The nights get so lonely sometimes, especially with as many nightmares that he has. Being alone with his thoughts, forced to confront what he did for so long every night, is his own personal hell. A punishment he wouldn’t wish on anyone. Maybe being responsible for another life, rather than taking it away, will be good for him.

That is, if he doesn’t fuck this up, too.

“Of course, sir.” The man smiles, beckoning for Bucky to follow, which he does. “We have plenty of cats available, from kittens to seniors. Do you have any specific breed in mind? Any age or gender?” 

All the questions make Bucky furrow his brows together. Choosing a cat seems to be harder than he thought. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to just walk in and for someone to just hand him a cat, but still. “Not really.” The staff member nods, smiling.

“That’s totally fine. You’re not the first who just wants to walk around. I’ll show you what we have, and we can go from there.”

Bucky looks at every variety of cat and kitten at the shelter. They’re all adorable, but none of them feel right, like his cat. Suddenly, he sees a little white ball of fluff curled up against the corner of a cage. They don’t even move when Bucky approaches. ��Who’s this?” He asks.

“That’s Alpine.” Alpine looks up, looking for whoever came to see him. His blue eyes stare at Bucky for a moment, and he cocks his head to the left slightly before burying his face back into his fur. “Sorry, he’s really shy. We’re not sure if he likes people that much.” Bucky chuckles. Well, at least he sounds like him. Bucky doesn't like people that much either. Maybe this’ll be a good match after all. “Do you want to see some more cats?” The staff member asks, but Bucky keeps staring at Alpine, watching as his little head pops up again, checking to see if the stranger outside his cage has gone. 

“Hey there, buddy.” He whispers, smiling. He expects him to curl away from him again, but to his surprise, he takes a few steps forward towards him, tentatively sniffing the air, then Bucky’s gloved hand. Bucky chuckles, murmuring an “aww.” to himself as Alpine brushes his head against his fingers, nuzzling into them and purring. 

“Wow! He rarely does this. You must be special.” Yet the man’s voice fades out as Bucky and Alpine make eye contact. At Christmas time, Sam and his nephews showed him that movie The Grinch, where his heart grows three sizes after he discovers the true meaning of Christmas. Originally, Bucky wrote that off as cheesy nonsense, but now he feels it happening for real as he looks at this tiny little cat. He smiles. He’s perfect.

“I’ll take him.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Brought him home about a week later, and the rest is history.” Bucky smiles.

“Oh. My. God.” Y/N gasps. “That’s so cute. Turns out you’re just a big softie deep down, huh, Buck?” She chuckles. Bucky flushes pink, and Y/N continues to grin. 

“Don’t say a word.” Bucky hisses, but Y/N keeps laughing and smiling. And despite how much he wants to keep it cool, and act like it’s not affecting him, Bucky can’t help but laugh. Because she’s right. Sometimes (more often than he’d like to admit) Bucky hangs onto his Winter Soldier persona, using it like a mask to hide behind. After all, it’s better than having to meet new people all the time, and to actually make relationships with people. People who could disappoint him, or leave him when things got too hard. Nobody would ever go near him if they thought he was still like that, still an asshole who would kill you if you looked the wrong way at him.

But with Y/N… he doesn’t want to hide himself anymore. She makes him the happiest he’s ever been in a long time, and brings out the best parts of him, the parts he thought were gone forever. Her laughter rings through the air, the sound the sweetest melody he’s ever heard, and Bucky just can’t stop smiling. Y/N likes him for who he is, and despite how much he hates himself… Bucky loves the way she makes him feel. 

Well… he loves Y/N more than anything in the world. But she does make him feel pretty damn great.

“You know, Alpine sounds amazing. Maybe I’ll meet him one day.” She smiles. The thought makes Bucky’s heart grow even more, this time so big it could explode out of his chest. His two favourite people, the people he loves most in the world, meeting each other.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, smiling softly. “Maybe one day.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maybe we'll see reader meet Alpine..... 👀

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque: is here

capitolo sei

capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occure in time, also I am running out of pictures of P he looks the same in every pic (but prettily so)

[Also, I am gonna be like that and mention that I would not mind any comments or reblogs! This series is definitely gonna have short chapters and is currently building up settings but there's gonna be good ol yandere Pinocchio tailing after you like a puppy afterwards, no worries!]

This night also proved itself to be a long one. As well as lonely.

The prattling was thankfully easy to stop, or at least cut down to simple replies when requested. The complete silence once you shut the two butlers down however, felt like a sudden and bare contact with ice.

All windows were tightly shut to fight off the howling wind and rain and the only flickering light left in the workshop was that of your own. Just as Geppetto had returned and hung his coat, it was taken off just as quickly.

You've paid it no mind. Uncle was a busy man. Always has been.

Usually having a part of your table be empty and clean felt like a load of work was finished and tidied away but you found yourself musing over the doll in your hand. You put it in a sitting position before, only for it to fall again and again on its back. Feeling bad enough, you decided to have it sit on the edge of the table while supporting it from both sides.

You remember clearly how you were able to have it sit on a tiny, little stool, that you borrowed from your father's office, and pretended to have it listen to your whimsical stories. Now it feels like an old lady unable to properly stay still without help.

Uncle even inserted kneecaps to have it bend or, as you liked to pretend when you were younger, swing its legs at the edge of that small stool.

She was a friend to you in older times who was constantly nice to you. Not just sometimes.

Though in this state, holding it in your hands like this, the doll felt more like an obstacle than a friend.

A sigh of frustration escaped you. No matter how enticing the image was, you could not insert a voice box in it. Not yet.

Your dear, old friend was too outdated. Too small and not meant to serve and entertain as a puppet, but to be a little girl's companion as a doll. That little girl has grown though, and the doll offered her nostalgia rather than actual help. A doll, the size of a forearm, could not offer any aid in becoming a puppet maker.

It would have to grow like the little girl did.

Nodding to no one but yourself, you quietly promised the doll your return as you walked out of your room and skipped down the stairs. In a flow you turned around the corner to collect an oil lamp and made sure to flick on the hallway's light. Though when taking a peek outside, the stormy weather adviced you to look for an umbrella.

"...I know you, that glint in your eyes...is so familiar..." With a quick but playful gait, you found an umbrella leaning abandoned in the corner. Uncle must be collecting these like dust and setting them aside whereever he may find himself to be considering Krat's predictable moderate rain.

The floors creaked at your steps and the walls seemed to replicate the wind's howl in their own manner. You'd rather interpet it as that than believe that the old wood is not strong enough to withstand the noise outside.

Geppetto once mentioned that this was his way of forecasting the weather and if he could go outside at an nice day. Yet you did not really feel like taking advantage of that little 'quirk' the workshop offered.

"...a gleam...", Testing out the waters first and if that umbrella number uptenth was indeed not used up, you quickly made your way outside. Uncle's coat was still not hanging there and it made you let out a sigh of relief.

He would be incredibly upset at you. Being up and about at this hour and singing! Now you are even stepping out into the rain.

The door was shut a bit too roughly as you rushed through the plaza. The destination was an stone's thrown away but the walk still proved itself to be a hassle through the pouring weather. Nevertheless, you felt it would be worth it.

The plaza was rather empty. A few silhouettes hidden by their long cloaks, as dark as the sky, were standing or talking idly in the corners, a few with peers and some with puppets. Alongside the chatting and tinny that accompanied the rain, your footsteps were the loudest as you approached the bulleting board. The dim lights illuminated the stained glass but you could still make out the newspaper clips. There on the corner was an edition posted from this month still.

KRAT NEWS ISSUE 1089

Tailor shop Cherry now offering new fabric for your puppets! In collaboration with the WORKSHOP UNION now having materials in stock!

Tailor shop Cherry

ROSA ISABELLE STREET 27

NEAR THE CITY'S...

You skipped over the trivial information, writing down the street's name. It admittedly made your stomach drop a bit at the sight of such a prestitious place known for its luxury and...expensive prices. Yet the monthly pay you earned should be enough. Your wallet could suffer just for once...right?

Oh, if your parents ever heard of such an endevour...they surely wouldn't be pleased.

Your shoes ended up soaked in the rain but nothing too difficult to clean and hide. The wet umbrella could be hidden in your room...as well as your coat.

"And I know that visions are seldom all they seem..."

You neatly folded the paper - only to throw it away once it was too wet to store anywhere. Writing its content in your notes, you shoved the notebook back into your cupboard. "...but if I know you..." Skipping the last few stairs, you hummed as you tidied the place.

Or; 'Getting rid of evidence' - it sounded so foolish and cheesy but also exciting.

The wind continued to howl and the rain aggressively hit the walls but your mood nor your plans would be deterred. Even if they were the only sounds to accompany you tonight.

"...I know what you'll..."

Passing the hallway with hand towels in your arms your quick gait became slower and slower. Stopping mid-way, your gaze mustered the dimly lit area. You heard that right.

"...do...?"

Your foot took one, careful step as you leaned further to the wall. That didn't come from the outside, couldn't have now, could it?

No. The rain and wind came from the window to your left. And to your right...

Nose scrunching up, you turned around the corner. You held up the oil lamp above your head, narrowed eyes scanning the table and your song continuing in a soft and confused tone.

You turned the butlers off, didn't you?

"...You'll love me...at..."

Yes. Yes, you did, certainly you did this morning. Neither you nor your uncle touched them since then.

So why are you hearing rattling?

Those were springs. You were so, so incredibly sure, the sound as familiar as the beating of your own heart.

"...once..."

You bit your lip and decided to stay still. Head tilting to the other side, you listened again. The rain, the wind, the flickering flame in your hand...

And that's it.

Waiting a few moments more, you sighed through your nose before continuing where you halted. If you don't hurry, Geppetto will be back.

You really hoped he wouldn't end up being right that staying up late would bite you later.

[starsandgutters]

wip wednesday: kevin!cowboy x aaron!doctor..... please?

I think you may have me confused for someone else, because I’ve never written anything like this 😃 definitely not one of my WIPs hahaha

Coincidentally though, I am skipping WIP Wednesday this week to do flash fic requests instead - so I did write you a little something 😌

I don’t really engage with anything Western themed & I don’t really write in historical settings, so just ignore any historical inaccuracies, mmmkaythanksx

CWs: Lot of blood mentions & probably dodgy medicine practices lmao Implied racism 😔 and background colonialism

Aaron sees Kevin ride up from the window of his practice and knows immediately something is wrong. Kevin usually has great posture on his horse. When he rides, it is like they become one creature, moving together with grace and understanding, set always to the same purpose. Right now he’s slumped down against Xanthus’ back, one arm looped around his neck. Aaron can’t see the other one as it’s on the side of the horse facing away from him. He gets to his feet and is out the door before Kevin even reaches him.

“What happened?” Aaron’s eyes skim over Kevin. He’s soaked with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, his breathing weak and shaky. 

“Got shot,” Kevin says, and Aaron feels like all the blood has just drained out of his own body. Somehow, despite Kevin having over a foot on him, Aaron manages to get him off the horse and haul him into his practice. “Xanthus.”

“He won’t go anywhere without you.”

“Might. Needs tied.”

“Oh for fuck sake.” Aaron leaves Kevin to slump down into a chair and jogs back out to the horse. Xanthus is a tall and prideful creature, and he is distrustful of most people who are not Kevin, but he had taken a liking to Aaron relatively quickly. Kevin had hated this to start with, but eventually he noted that Xanthus had just been ahead of him in that. Fuckin’ sap. Aaron holds his hand out and the horse steps closer. He takes the reins and ties him up against the post outside. Usually he’d take more time to make sure he’s comfortable, but Kevin may be currently bleeding out on Aaron’s floor, so he takes priority right now.

“Can you get up on the table?”

“Dunno. Head spinning.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ wonder why, dipshit. Were you duelling again? I told you that would end badly.”

“No. Bandits. Attacking Finn’s settlement. Wanted to scare them off. Got me though.”

Aaron softens at that. It’s not often Kevin gets involved in other people's business, so for him to step in as someone’s defence is a bold move indeed. While most people in the town are distrustful of the Natives - an attitude Aaron finds ironic, considering they’re the ones encroaching on their land - Aaron has fostered a solid relationship with them. They have the best herbs and medicinal plants, and they know cures and practices that he didn’t learn in his studies. In return he trades them different foodstuffs, medicine, or supplies from stores in town. Finn is the one he interacts with the most, and Aaron would be devastated if anything happened to them.

He’ll be more devastated if Kevin dies though. 

“Let’s try. Get this shirt off first. Kevin. Can you move your arms? I’ll have to cut it off otherwise.”

“Do it. Ruined anyway.” Kevin moves his hand, and Aaron can see the hole in the shirt, the blood still coming steadily, but sticking Kevin’s shirt to his skin where some of it has started to dry out. Aaron doesn’t have time. He slices the buttons open and slides it off one of Kevin’s arms, then down the other. He tries to pry it away from the wound as gently as possible, but Kevin still hisses in pain.

“This is going to fuckin’ suck,” Aaron says. He leaves Kevin to retrieve a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. “Take a good long drink of that.”

Aaron has to hold it to his lips, but Kevin doesn’t need told twice. He gulps at the bottle, brow furrowing and nose scrunching up. Aaron draws it back when he thinks Kevin has had enough, ignoring his whine of protest. 

“Table. C’mon.” Once again Aaron heaves Kevin up. This time it is all bare skin pressed to him, but Aaron is too focused to be distracted by that right now. Kevin is always so warm, but his skin feels clammy beneath Aaron’s touch. It’s not a good sign. With some struggle from both of them, he manages to get Kevin lying on his table. Kevin’s been putting pressure on the wound again, but Aaron eases his hand away. 

“Bullets still lodged in there. Probably a good thing, it’s been stifling the blood flow. You’d probably have bled out by now if it were just an open wound.”

“Might still.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re not allowed to die on me, y’hear? Don’t even fuckin’ think of it.”

“Kiss me. In case I do.”

“You’re not going to.”

“Kiss me anyway.”

Aaron doesn’t really have time to indulge Kevin, but there’s a bone deep terror running through him that he might lose him. Even if he gets the bullet out and wound stitched, it’ll be susceptible to infection for weeks, and trying to keep Kevin in bed resting is a nightmare. He has no regard for his wounds once they’re no longer an active threat to him. If something does happen, Aaron will forever feel like an asshole for not serving his final wish, so he leans down over him.

Kevin’s hand lifts to Aaron’s cheek as their lips slot together. His fingers are trembling. Even his lips feel cold, weak beneath Aaron’s, no real pressure on Kevin’s side of the kiss. Aaron lets it linger sweetly for a few moments, then he draws away. He pushes Kevin’s hair back from his forehead and drops a quick kiss there before focusing back in on the task at hand. 

Kevin has an impressively high pain tolerance, but there’s no delicate way to remove a bullet from inside someone without a fuck load of pain. Kevin screams. Hoarse and desperate, trying to muffle it ineffectually against his forearm. Aaron is not used to him expressing pain so evidently. It makes him ache to his core, but he has no room for sympathy. Tenderness will not save Kevin right now. Efficiency and speed will. Finally he pulls the bullet free of the skin, dropping it aside. He applies more pressure to the wound until the fresh flow of blood slows again, and then he goes about stitching Kevin up.

“Motherfucker.”

“This is the last bit. Just gotta finish stitching you up and I’m done.”

Kevin whimpers pitifully, tilting his head away from Aaron, only to immediately turn back. He can’t hold his eyes fully open, but he keeps forcing them partially open so he can watch Aaron. Not what he’s doing, but Aaron himself, eyes set on his face. Aaron clenches his teeth and does not take his eyes off his stitching until he’s done. 

“You’re staying here until I’m happy you’re healing.”

“It’s hardly gonna do favours to your business if folks find you harbouring a wanted man.”

“You can stay in my room. Not the patient room.”

“If I had known getting shot was all it takes to get in your bed, I’d have done it months ago.”

Aaron glares at Kevin, unimpressed. 

“You’re downstairs for tonight though. I don’t think I’d get you upstairs in this state.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Yeah, Kev. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

This is not technically true. Once Aaron has Kevin cleaned off, glaring at his suggestive comments about sponge baths, and settled into the patient bed, he has to go find somewhere more comfortable and inconspicuous for Xanthus. It takes Aaron some effort to mount him due to the sheer height, but he rides him out to Nicky and Erik’s ranch. He brings Hippocrates along in tow, so he can get back to Kevin as quickly as possible. Andrew is sitting on the porch smoking. The only shift of his expression when he sees Aaron on such a beast of a horse is to raise his eyebrows.

“I need you to keep this horse for a while, I don’t know how long yet, and don’t let anyone see him.”

Andrew’s brows stay raised. He tilts his head fractionally to the left. He looks at the blood on Aaron’s clothes. Kevin’s blood. He left in such a rush he didn’t even realise it was staining him. Aaron lets a touch of pleading soak into his tone: “Andrew.”

“You’ll explain?”

“Eventually.”

Aaron dismounts Xanthus at the stables, pressing his forehead against the front of his snout. Xanthus whinnies, his tail flicking, agitated.

“I know. I’m going to take care of him, but you have to stay here for a while. My brother will make sure you’re okay.” Aaron pats the side of Xanthus’ face as he turns to look at Andrew. “He can be a bit difficult. He’s a biter and a kicker sometimes, but be gentle with him. He’s just wary.”

Andrew nods, eyes sliding across to the horse. Xanthus looks back at him, but when Aaron moves, he gives another whinny and tries to follow.

“No. You have to stay.” Aaron pats him again, then quickly makes his way out to Hippocrates. His horse is smaller, and much easier for him to climb up onto. He looks back at Andrew, giving him a nod of appreciation. Andrew raises two fingers to his forehead, giving Aaron a lazy salute. Aaron prompts Hippocrates forward, building speed until he is cantering back. 

He quickly gets Hippocrates settled in the small stable at the back of his practice, giving him fresh water and rewarding him with an apple. His first stop once he enters the building is to wash his hands thoroughly, not wanting to risk Kevin getting an infection. Kevin’s asleep when Aaron enters the room, but it’s a fitful rest, his head turning as he mumbles incoherent nonsense. He’s still coated in a cold sweat. When Aaron draws the blanket down to look at his wound, he starts awake.

“It’s just me. No abrupt movements. You don’t want to pull on your stitches.” Aaron tops up the salve he had layered over the wound. It will hopefully help ward off any infections. That’s Aaron’s biggest concern now. He washes his hands again when he’s done, then fixes the blanket over Kevin. Kevin takes a hold of his wrist.

“Stay now?”

Aaron nods. He fills a glass with water and props Kevin’s head up on his arm, holding the glass to his mouth to help him drink. He presses a hand to Kevin’s damp forehead, frowning. Kevin is shivering. Aaron starts to remove his clothes. 

“As big a fan as I am of this development, not sure I’m up for much tonight.”

“Shut up. You’re cold. Body heat is the most effective way to warm you up.” Aaron slips into the bed on the opposite side from Kevin’s wound. He eases himself down gently, trying not to jostle Kevin or take up too much space. Kevin takes no such care, immediately turning towards Aaron, hissing even as he moves as it pulls on his stitches.

“Dumbass. I told you to stay put.” Aaron slides his arm under Kevin’s neck. His other hand rubs over Kevin’s bicep. Kevin is looking at him with a softer expression than Aaron is used to seeing on his face. He must be bleary from the bloodloss. He presses forward, and Aaron moves to meet him in a gentle kiss. Kevin sighs against his mouth. Aaron guides his head down to his shoulder, running his fingers through Kevin’s hair. 

“Thank you for saving me, Doctor Minyard.”

“Kind of my job,” Aaron says, though they both know there are plenty of doctors who would then Kevin away, or leave him to bleed out so they can claim the bounty on his head. Dead or alive. Easier to hand in a dead man. Aaron tightens his hold around Kevin at the thought. “Remember you’re not allowed to die.”

“It would take more than a bullet to keep me from you,” Kevin whispers, and presses a kiss over Aaron’s heart. 

[onlyonetifosi]

When marimba rhythm starts to play

-> two lovers reunion

-> WARNINGS: cheesy fluf ahead

As you stood in the kitchen, stirring the sauce for Carlos's favorite pasta dish, you couldn't help but feel excited. He was due to arrive home any minute now after the preseason testing in Bahrein, and you wanted to make sure everything was perfect for him. The aroma of garlic and tomatoes filled the air as you hummed to myself, imagining the smile on Carlos's face when he took his first bite.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of the front door opening, and your heart skipped a beat, wipping your hands on the apron as he approached the kitchen, he saw you standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot of pasta. You turned around and beamed at him, and he couldn't help but smile back. He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

"Hola, mi amor," he said, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, "I missed you," he said while nuzzling his face into your neck.

"I missed you too, cariño" you replied, leaning into his embrace. "You did so well, I'm proud of you"

"It was good," he said. "But I'm glad to be home."

As we pulled away, you noticed the exhaustion in his eyes. "You must be tired," you said sympathetically. "Come sit down, dinner will be ready soon."

Carlos nodded, and we made our way to the kitchen, where he took a seat at the table. You served him a generous portion of the pasta, and he dug in eagerly, savoring every bite.

"This is amazing," he said, smiling at me. "Thank you."

You grinned back at him, feeling a surge of pride. "Anything for you."

After dinner, Carlos leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed as he savored the taste of the food. You cleared the table and started washing the dishes, but I couldn't help feeling restless. You wanted to do something special for him, to make him forget about the stress of the preseason testing and just enjoy our time together.

You took his hand and led him over to the small radio sitting on the counter. You turned it on and the sound of a lively salsa tune filled the room. Carlos looked at you in confusion, but you just smiled and started swaying to the beat.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand again. "Let's dance."

Carlos laughed, but he couldn't resist your enthusiasm. He let you lead him into the middle of the kitchen and soon they were both moving to the rhythm of the music.

For a moment, they forgot about everything else. They were lost in the joy of the music, moving together in perfect harmony. Carlos was surprised at how good you were at dancing, he had never seen this side of you before. It was like you were a different person on the dance floor.

"You know, you're pretty good at this," Carlos said, catching his breath.

You laughed. "Well, I had a good teacher," you said, winking at him.

Carlos smiled and pulled you close again. "I'm so lucky to have you," he said, kissing you softly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into his embrace. It was moments like these that made all the hard work and sacrifice worth it. Carlos may have been a Formula 1 driver, but in this moment he was just a man in love with his girlfriend.

His head leaning on your shoulder, swaying to the music with you. You can feel his torso pushed up against your back. His cologne fills your nose. Your body relaxes against his as you wrap your hands along his arms and smile. 

He turns you around and pulls you closer to himwhile you look into his brown eyes and his handsome smile, taking in all of his brilliant facial features from his silky-smooth brown hair to the stubble of his beard. You reach up and rub his stubble as you smile at him. He smiles and leans in to give you the most tender kiss on your lips.  

After the day you had, this is what you looked forward to. Feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and giving you sweet tender kisses.

Those tender kisses turned into deeper ones. Carlos grips the back of your head and pushed you closer. His tongue pressing against your lips asking for access. You grant him access as you feel his tongue pressed against yours.

He pulls back from kissing you, licking his lips to taste the sauce of the pasta you had for dinner.

You smile hoping he notices it before you both collapse and sleep like babies.

That lend you into a romantic pasionante night. Before you fall totally asleep, you hear him "I love you bonita"

[purple-ant]

IT'S WIP WEDNESDAY, MINES

here is a tiny snippet from the next chapter of my silly marriage au fic, Single Seers

“So...?”

“Yes, sorry,” Dooku slowed down to their previous walking pace and let go of Sifo-Dyas’s hand. “Servants. The first days the castle was empty, only a couple of droids left by Ramil, but Jenza was not happy with this way of things, so one day I returned from the city and was greeted by all these “my lord” and “your grace” from every corner.”

“You've dealt with servants before.” For a Jedi negotiator like Dooku, many missions involved luxurious houses and meetings, and they required maintenance.

“Yes, but not like that...” Dooku waved his hand, as if unable to convey the entire palette of emotions in words. “...Devotees. It is their honor and greatest joy to serve House Serenno, behavior that is familiar in other contexts of course, but has never been directed at me. And not within a month!”

Sifo-Dyas couldn't help but laugh as he saw Dooku get worked up, earning him an offended look.

“Laugh, laugh, I’ll ask you again after a week of “Mr” and “Sir” and “Will you allow me to accompany you every step of the way, sir, so that, Forebears forbid, you don’t need to do something yourself, sir?”

“Of course,” Sifo-Dyas smiled. “Should I also thank you for hiding information about my arrival?”

“Yes, believe me, none of us wants to find out how they imagine the future consort should be greeted.”

“Hah, I guess...” curiosity killed the loth-cat, but Sifo-Dyas felt that if he didn’t ask now, he would never be able to. “You know, you might not have waited for me to answer.”

“I wouldn’t even think of doing this without your consent!” Dooku was indignant, then frowned. “I’m not sure that this can even be done without the information and consent of the other party.”

“No, I’m talking about the call,” the seer’s smile twisted. “I bet there would be a line of nobles out the door if you had even mentioned that you were looking for a partner.”

“And I would spend the rest of my life listening to the Force, waiting for a stab in the back, or, even worse, watch their attempts to manipulate me,” the future count winced.

“Well, you would spend the rest of your life with me,” Sifo-Dyas did not know what emotions he put into these words. Something very similar to hope.

“And, you know, I don’t take my words lightly,” Dooku apparently wasn’t finished. “I still honor my knightly vows, even though my allegiance may no longer lie with the Order. Serenno and its people are my priority, and I intend to fulfill my every oath as a Count. Marriage will be no exception.”

Sifo-Dyas's heart stumbled, leaping to his throat and falling into his stomach, skipping a stop in his chest. He wanted to hit himself first for such a childish reaction, and then Dooku for such a choice of words.

“I had no doubt,” he managed.

“Seriously,” Dooku turned to Sifo-Dyas, and yes, there was not a hint of joke in his gaze when he looked into the eyes of the seer. “If I had to choose one person to spend the rest of my life with, sharing everything this world tries to throw our way, it would be you.”

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline WIP Wed - Freaky Friday Time Travel Fic - Part 3

Part One Here

Part Two Here

“Seriously, why are you naked?” She may have shrieked a little. “And why are we in Paris? Is this your idea of a date? Because you are taking me home right now, buddy. I cannot believe you kidnapped me.”

A hand pulled at her wrist, dragging her hand away from her eyes, and Klaus glared down at her. Unbidden, her gaze dropped, and thankfully he was wearing jeans. They could have been zipped up a bit more but small favors. 

“Who are you?” He looked her over, taking in her baby doll top and skinny jeans, her bare feet on the concrete balcony. “You’re not my Caroline.”

“I’m not your anything.” She glared back. “I mean, I thought we were friends but friends don’t kidnap each other, Klaus. Just a big freaking clue, in case you skipped Friends 101.” Was he having Silas delusions again?

Eyes still hostile as he looked her over, his expression turned calculating. “You sound like her.” His other hand darted into her hair and pulled her head to the side, where he pressed his nose against her temple and inhaled. “You smell like her.”

Caroline froze, a hand raised against his chest in reflex. God, whatever new cologne he was using smelled amazing and this was absolutely not the time to be thinking about that. For the first time in what felt like a long time, she might be in danger from Klaus.

“Klaus–” she started to form his name in irritation.

“Only one way to be sure,” he murmured, and she barely had time to wonder what he meant before the sharp pleasure-pain of his fangs sinking into her neck caused her to go stiff in surprise, a strangled little sound escaping her lips. It was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and he was offering her a bloody wrist. “Drink up, love.”

Glaring at him, she might have bit down on his wrist harder than was necessary as she drank down the cure for the faint burning that was starting to warm the bite on her neck. Judging by the humorous gleam in his eyes, he understood her anger.

“Not a witch construct, then,” he said, pulling his wrist back once she released him.

“Some warning would have been nice!” She tugged her arm being held by him and surprisingly he let her go. “You can tell that from one bite?”

Lips tipped in amusement. “I am intimately familiar with your taste by now.” Klaus’ eyes narrowed. “Which brings me to my first question: what year is it?”

“Is this a joke?” Rubbed the skin where he had bitten her, smooth now. If she’d had any doubts about if he wasn’t who he was supposed to be, the burn of the hybrid venom would have been proof enough.

A look of great patience settled on his face. “The year, sweetheart, if you please?”

“2011, last I checked,” she said, and resignation sat in his eyes. The obvious answer hit her like a Mac truck. “Oh my god, did I time-travel to Paris? What year is it for you?”

“2078.”  

A sound that was not quite a squeak escaped her. “That’s like sixty-something years. What am I doing in Paris with you?” The most important part of the equation occurred to her, and she blurted it out without thinking. “What am I doing in Paris with you naked?” 

He licked his lips, opened his mouth with a sly little tilt to his lips, dimples creasing his cheeks with whatever profane thing was about to come out, and quickly she clapped her hand over his mouth, her own cheeks burning. “Don’t answer that!” she hissed, “You could break the space-time continuum, and then what? The universe implodes!”

[thecomfywriter]

Writing Share Tag!

Howdy! I'm pretty sure @wyked-ao3 tagged me in this a bunch, @the-golden-comet did a while back, and just recently, @frostedlemonwriter as well. So thank you for that! If you also tagged me and you want credit for putting this on my radar, lmao let me know and I'll add you to the list of credits. And if you have tagged me in something and I am taking dreadfully long to get to it-- tag me again or dm me! I don't mind, but it may just be buried at the bottom of my notifications.

Regardless, I grant you this unedited scene I literally JUST scribed for my current wip-- Court of Sins (CoS), Chapter VII. The Youngest Fire-Singer. It's the first book of the Light of the Flame Series, in case you're new to my blog and don't know about all my different wips and projects. I'll link my masterpost blog guide underneath the excerpt too for your reference. Without further ado...!

✧༺♥༻∞

He launched off the bed, snatching Echoe's raised arm and dragging it behind him as he dashed out of the room. Evan was surprised by how difficult it was to drag Echoe. Her armour was heavy, her muscles taut and impressive, and her stature far too rigid and on guard for Evan to swipe away in a moment of distraction. She was, by posture alone, the perfect soldier. Still, she ran behind him first, then beside him quickly thereafter. As they jogged through the halls, she flashed looks at the observing guards on duty, easing their stance from diligent to relaxed. Her cautionary glowers were the only reason no one stopped the young prince as he skipped, twirled, and frolicked around the halls. When he had run out of breath, Evan slowed down into a stride, placing a hand on her thigh to balance himself and catch his breath. All the while, she peered down, smiling. “Tired so easily, Khos ja?” Echoe asked after five moments had passed and breathing had not become any easier. “I thought you wanted to go to the library to learn how to join the military?” Evan's head snapped up. “How you know that?” “Just because we don't speak all the time, that doesn't mean we are not always listening.” We was Hel'Valha. And Echoe's disclaimer was a clear confession. An admittance, that, despite all of the young prince's loneliness, he was never truly alone. His privacy was never his to covet that his secrets should have been safeguarded by the walls he remained trapped within. - Court of Sins, VII. The Youngest Fire-Singer [Light of the Flame Series, Book One]

✧༺♥༻∞

Alrighty! I'll tag the TCW crew per usual LOL. But first, as promised, the links:

✧༺♥༻∞

TCW Blog Navigation Guide

PREORDER THRONE OF VENGEANCE

Join the TCW Tag Crew!

TCW Writing Bar Discord -> i may be whoops on tumblr but i am less whoops on discord, so come hither!

✧༺♥༻∞

Happy Writing!

TCW Crew:

@lunaeuphternal @the-golden-comet @renasdoodles

@drchenquill @zackprincebooks @wyked-ao3

@toragay-writing @the-letterbox-archives

@kind-lion @mysticstarlightduck @agirlandherquill

@storyteller-kara @dahliaontherun @writingismydrugs

@authorcoledipalo @sm-writes-chaos @illarian-rambling

@pexchys @an-indecisive-nerd @thelovelymachinery

[hollyethecurious]

CS WIP Wednesday Challenge - Week 2

Week 2

👵 Your oldest posted WIP (can you even remember what year it was when that one first went up?)

So, when I read this week's challenge... I cringed.

Why, you may ask?

Because my oldest posted WIP is one I've pretty much given up on. In fact, I have two unfinished WIPS that, at the moment, I have pretty much written off and have resigned myself to the probability of never finishing. I completely lost steam on them and have zero intentions of trying to muster up any inspiration for them when I have other stories I am actively passionate about.

You have no idea how much it pains me to say that, but that's the truth of the matter and I'm really sorry to disappoint any of you who were hoping I might get back to them during this challenge.

That said... I do have one unfinished, posted fic that I am actively working on and that I focused my efforts towards updating this past week.

Pan Says...

I am thrilled to report that the next chapter is finished and is currently being looked over by my betas. As soon as they've gone over it, I will share it with all of you.

I also wanted to share that in addition to Pan Says... I've been hard at work on my CS Grimm AU for the @cssns, and added roughly 11k words on it this week! I can't wait to share it with y'all!

I want to thank @captainswanwipwednesdays once again for putting this challenge together, and appreciate all the love, support, and patience y'all have shown us struggling authors.

Enjoy this snippet from Part Nine of Pan Says... and be on the look out for the full chapter, which will be posting soon!

“I don’t know who you are, or what sort of game you’re playing at, but this isn’t funny!” Emma glanced at the monitor overhead, the timer quickly counting down the minutes she had left to try and convince David that she was really Emma, that she was alive, and in need of his help. “David Robert Nolan, shut the fuck up and listen to me!” she yelled over the receiver. “What did you just call me?” “I called you by your full government name,” she said. “David Robert, after your father, Nolan. Or would you prefer I call you Charming like Mary Margaret does?” “How do you know--” “Because it’s me, David! It’s Emma! I’m alive and I need your help!” “Emma?” he questioned over the line, the hope she knew he wasn’t sure he should dare to feel leaking into his tone. “Is it really you? How? Where are you? Where have you been? Who did they pull out of the--” “Just listen, okay?” she interrupted as the time rapidly dwindled. “I don’t know who that woman was or how he faked my death, but I was abducted three weeks ago by someone who calls himself Pan. I was taken from outside the police station after dropping off a skip. I was tasered. I’m here with a man named Captain Killian Jones. He has a brother named Liam, who also was led to believe that Killian was missing for reasons other than kidnapping. I need you to find him. He’ll be trying to get a hold of you, because Killian just called him, too, and let him know what’s been going on.” She flicked her gaze to Killian, still looking shell-shocked from the emotionally charged conversation he’d had with his brother. He’d wanted to stay by her side whilst she made her call, but she’d told him to go sit and take a moment. They’d be there for one another later. It was why they’d chosen to wait and make these calls before turning in for the night. So they could just lay in bed and hold each other in the aftermath. “What has been going on?” David demanded, bringing Emma’s focus back to her brother. “Why would this Pan person take you? What has he… are you alright? Has he hurt you? Did you escape, is that why you’re calling now? Do I need to come get--” “No, we haven’t escaped. We… we sort of… earned a reward. Look. It’s too much to explain right now. I’m going to give you some specs of the place we’re being held in. Write them down so you can give them to the police.” Emma waited as David searched for a pen and paper, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as the timer continued to draw closer to zero.

My ao3 | ff.net | buy me a coffee | add to tag list | Curious? Come Ask Me!

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ january 2024

☆ STATISTICS.

projects worked on: The Gemini Heist. also i glanced at Andromeda Rogue but gave up on that real quick

proudest accomplishment: i uhhh drew some really cool gemini heist aus

books read: The Long Way to a Small and Angry Planet by Becky Chambers; The Blighted Stars by Megan E O'Keefe; System Collapse (Murderbot Diaries #7) by Martha Wells. i got the first one for christmas and I CANNOT RECOMMEND IT ENOUGH. the other too were really good too.

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

hi! i have been very scarce from writeblr lately (and that's probably not gonna change soon) but i am alive and still creating! i mostly drew this month tbh but i did get some writing in, surprisingly!

you may or may not have noticed, but i'm no longer putting my wordcount in these updates. i've realized it's just not a valid metric for me to be measuring my progress. like, just because i haven't written any words in my draft doesn't mean i didn't make progress on my wip in other ways. and it doesn't make sense to use it for things like editing or revising, where words get cut all the time.

in wip news: i'm still reaaaally struggling to edit andromeda rogue, and after tinkering with it a bit at the beginning of the month, i made myself put it aside until february. which is... tomorrow. we'll see how that goes.

in the meantime i got some progress on gemini heist!

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (draft 0)

this has got to be the messiest drafts i've ever written. my first drafts are usually somewhat clean, but this? it's placeholder city in here, i've skipped writing any kind of description, there are plot holes that i only realized existed later but forced myself to ignore for now in favour of moving forward. this is fine.

i'm not going to lie... i still don't have most of the heist figured out. i'm a plantser but i've been pantsing a lot more than planning and it feels like i'm flying blind and i'm gonna crash into a wall at any moment. this is totally fine.

not to mention, a ship i did not expect has emerged and punched me in the face, and since i have little self control, everything is even more messy, especially between these characters, and i have no clue how the hell i'm gonna resolve any of this. everything is fine. (and no, i'm not saying who is involved, but at least [REDACTED] has two hands. sorta.)

i'm having fun, though. that's what matters, right?

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

since i haven't really posted any writing in a hot minute, here's a slightly longer, VERY gay excerpt 😏 for context, this is right before the girls are set to crash a coronation party, and Gabi has asked Euna to help with her makeup 😌

“Thank you,” Gabi said, beginning to stand. “It’s not done,” Euna protested, taking her wrist to pull her back down. “I still have to do your lips.” “Oh,” Gabi said, settling back onto the bunk. She squirmed in place. “It’s not that important— I don’t want to take up any more of your time—” “It won’t take long,” Euna promised, taking out a tube of shimmering pink lipstick. She brought her other hand up to Gabi’s face, pausing right before touching her. “May I?” Gabi nodded, her neck bobbing slightly as she swallowed.  Euna gently cupped Gabi’s chin and drew her closer so she could see better, uncapping the tube with her teeth and spitting it out onto the bunk. Gabi sucked in an audible breath as Euna pressed the lipstick against her top lip and carefully smeared colour and glitter from one side to the other. Her hand slowed as it dragged the stick in the opposite direction along Gabi’s bottom lip, coming to a complete stop when she reached the end. For a moment, she stayed frozen in place, holding the lipstick to the corner of Gabi’s mouth, her other palm pressed against Gabi’s warm cheek, feeling her racing pulse at the tips of her fingers.  “Is… is something wrong?” Gabi asked in a whisper, barely moving her lips. Euna quickly withdrew both her hands from Gabi’s face. “No,” she said, groping the covers around her to retrieve the cap. “Just, ah, making sure I’d done it correctly.”

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @onomatopiya @outpost51

[two-hands-toward-the-sun]

20 Questions For Fic Writers!

Thank you so much for the tag, @honeyteacakes!! I loved reading your responses. This was so much fun to do.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

35! Some of them are locked to attempt to minimise AI scraping.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

44,236 holy shit

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I’m pretty deeply embedded in the Sandman-verse. But I’ve also written an AC Odyssey fic recently.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I’m skipping this one because I embedded so many links in this post and I don’t wanna do it anymore. 😂 And people can just filter by kudos on AO3 if they’re interested.

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

I respond EXTREMELY slowly, but I make every effort to reply to comments when I have the energy to spare. It means a lot to me when people take the time to tell me what they liked about my stories.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oooh. Good question. It’s either “pour the dirt into our bed” (Ranger’s Apprentice, referencing homophobia faced in a queerplatonic relationship) or “if you want voices in the dark, listen to mine” (Good Omens, after a temptation gone wrong.)

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

I write a fair amount of tender stories, so there are a lot of possible answers to this one! Potentially it’s “our place in the sun” (Sandman, Lucienne/Calliope domestic fluff) which is all about coming to rest and settling into love. Another option is “throw down that spade and dig up the garden” (Good Omens, Ineffable Husbands) which is about…pretty much the same thing, now that I think about it. 😂

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully not. I genuinely can’t understand why people leave hate comments on fics. Sure, there’s a lot of things I take issue with in certain fandoms, but I bitch about that stuff strictly IN MY OWN SPACE, I absolutely do not barge into other people’s spaces to do it. I never will and you can hold me to that.

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

I WANT TO. I’m working on it!! I actually have a smut prompt ask game queued up for next year, when I’ll have fewer writing obligations. As for what kind, I want to write so much femslash smut. There is devastatingly little in the Sandman fandom.

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

OHOHOHO. I have written a Los Simuladores/Good Omens crossover and it is genuinely one of my favorite stories that I’ve ever written. “every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire” is appropriately zany, hopefully sexy, and seasoned with a dash of angst to balance the flavors.

(Shout out to @jlemonster for writing such a glowing post about it, it makes me happy just remembering it.)

Another crossover I’m working on is Johanna Constantine/Mary Poppins. I PROMISE it will make sense when it’s written. …well, maybe. 😂

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!!! As part of Fandom Trumps Hate this year I had two fics of mine wonderfully translated into Spanish by @yourneighborhoodneighbor and it was an amazing experience.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. I don’t know if that would work with my writing habits, tbh. Maybe someday though, if the right idea and right person come along!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh GOD. Complicated question!! There are ships I’m currently enamored of, obviously, but who knows if they’ll stand the test of time? I know that Kaz/Inej (Six of Crows) and Irina/Jack (Alias) did something to my adolescent brain that may never be undone, but that’s the closest I can get to an answer to this question.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I’ve got a Good Omens Ineffable Wives AU inspired by Anne of Green Gables that is very dear to me, and has many aspects I’m extremely proud of, but I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it. My interest in Good Omens has flagged of late and unfortunately I don’t know if I’ll complete many of my WIPs for that fandom!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I have a good grasp on characters’ voices! Also, I think I write tactile and descriptive details well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

TRANSITIONS ARE THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE

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

I have done it once!!! For the aforementioned Los Simus fic. It was so much fun, and a good challenge for me. The dialogue was in Spanish (with very valuable help from @thisisnotjuli) and I loved writing how the two characters spoke in somewhat differing dialects.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh, lord. Probably Harry Potter? By hand, in a notebook from the dollar store. I was probably about eight or nine.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

They’re my children. My babies. My beloved frogspawn. I can’t give a definite answer, but…two of the stories that I worried my lip over the most for dread of failing to do them justice, the ones I think I put the most heart and consideration and care into, are “it’s an old song (and we’re gonna sing it again)” (Sandman, Calliope & Dream + healing and rediscovery and intimacy and changed but no less important relationships) and “sister dear, bear me away” (Good Omens, a human AU about gender discovery).

No pressure tags: the usual suspects <3 @pyrocephalus-rubinus @fatcatgospel and Juli, as well as @zorawitch @azi-sings-calliope @cosmictapestry, and anyone else who reads this and wants to talk about their creations!!

[buffintruder]

20 questions for 20 writers!

@aromantic-enjolras tagged me, thank you for thinking of me!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

....91. Somehow

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

938,024. I'm trying to get it past a million but I haven't been writing much recently so might be another year or two

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I'm a big 'write a bit of many different things' kind of person, but currently Ace Attorney and Kamen Rider (mostly Kamen Rider Blade)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1) what if the real steel samurai fandom was the friends we made along the way (over twice as much kudos as #2 on this list) (ace attorney)

2) Reunion (the untamed)

3) Wanting to Be Wanted (fullmetal alchemist)

4) Klavier's No Good Very Bad Year (ace attorney, sequel to #1 on this list)

5) To Turn the World Upside Down (the only one on this list i actually think is top 5 material, probably the best fic i've ever written) (ace attorney)

5. Do you respond to comments?

In general, it just might take me awhile and there have been a couple comments I took so long getting back to that I decided to just give up on it

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So I've written a lot of Les Mis canon-compliant fic that ends with the main character's death. But most of those, I feel like the tone I was going for was more "defiant" or "hopeful" despite the death. So I'm going to go with Trust Fall (kamen rider blade) because the ending is sort of more "horrified, betrayed, despair". (no character death, but the canon ending is sort of 'fate worse than death' which this fic ends on)

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

This is also hard because I have written so many fics and most of them have relatively happy endings. I was going to try and go by 'which story has a main character whose situation has improved the most by the end' but i think i lost track a bit and skipped over older fics i didn't remember well

Anyway, going purely off of vibe, I'm going to say Angus McDonald and the Case of the Soul Stealer (the adventure zone)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not never, but I think only a couple of times in my 10 years of posting fanfic, if I did the math right

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

Well. I have not posted any smut and I currently have 2 separate wips that are supposed to be smut, however, they both stop exactly when the sex starts so. I'm trying but I don't think I can say I have yet lol

(it took me a few days to actually finish this question thing, and in the intervening time, i did write maybe like 300 words of what may or may not be considered actually the smut part. we'll see.)

10. Do you write crossovers?

I love crossovers but I think I've only written a handful (more if you count things that are in the same franchise but of different characters and different settings, ie two Kamen Rider series or Ace Attorney and the prequel). I want to write a KR Blade Star Trek ds9 crossover but we'll see if that ever happens

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think way back in the days of ffn, someone translated a Doctor Who/Supernatural fic into Russian

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep, with @arofili !

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

That's a great question and I could not tell you the answer to that. I have the most fics written tagged as Phoenix/Edgeworth though

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Many of them :(((

I have a ghost hunting youtuber au of Kamen Rider W that explores Philip and Wakana's sibling relationship more that I highly doubt will actually get done because I don't have enough plot for it

16. What are your writing strengths?

Maybe dialogue? I'm not sure. I think I write good stories, I just don't know what about them is best. Maybe character development?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes. I get stuck on fighting and kissing/sex scenes for very similar reasons

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

I'm pro and do it sometimes in my own fic. I think there are good ways to do it and not as good ways to do it (for example, to steal what aromantic-enjolras said, don't have characters say a few words in French if they're supposed to have been speaking French the whole time)

My own preference lies to keeping things in the language of the main story (so English for my fics) and translating the dialogue into that language if there's a lot of it. But if it's just a line or two, or if the characters are switching between languages, or if I want it for flavor, or the pov character doesn't understand the language being spoken, etc, I might use the other language. Honestly it depends on what language too, I'm way more likely to put Japanese in a fic (a language I'm very familiar with) or even like French (a language I'm somewhat familiar with) than say Arabic or Russian (languages I know very little about)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The first fandom I wrote for in my whole life was probably Percy Jackson? First fandom I actually posted a fic for was Supernatural/Doctor Who

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

like cards fluttering in the wind, my soul nemesis au. Literally the most fun I've had writing a fic, the concept I am most obsessed with. I'm not sure if it's the best thing i've written but is definitely up there in the top 5. Definitely some scenes are the best thing I've ever written

Tagging @arofili @gallus-rising @queerfandommiscellany @waitineedaname @river-gale @spittinwatches and anyone else who wants to do this

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Word Find Tag

Catch up p4, completing May's backlog 😅 Thanks for the tag, @dogmomwrites! <3

Special rules for this one: If you can't find a word, leave a fun fact about your WIP, OCs, or writing process!

My words: harbinger, reserve, viscera, lunge, and note

Your words: denial, death, deserve, distance, and distress

Gently tagging: @k--havok, @poetinprose, @experi-sketches

Wow,, these words were hard! Had to skip back to Shattered Soul to get four out of the five, instead of three lol.

CW for blood, and extremely crude language in viscera, im so sorry 😅

Harbinger

Yeah, didn't think I'd have this one (in any of my wips, apparently lol). Fun fact time!

I enjoy this book so much that I've considered making Shattered Dreams a prequel and starting with this one.

Reserve Alaia

"Who—what are you?" she whispered. He cocked his head. "I'm Darian Arrio-alvaro Devante, a Guardian class mage. What has happened to you, little fae? Where is your clan?" Her eyes widened as golden scrollwork appeared on his temples, framing his eyes for a moment before fading out again. She bit her lip, unsure how to answer that. Why did they think she was fae? Was that the only reason they weren't slicing her head from her body at this moment, or ripping into her with those fangs? Pain cascaded through her again, even worse this time. Tears pricked her eyes as she leaned forward, a whimper escaping as her shadow pulsed with waves of urgent warning. She felt whatever reserves of magic the Veil had given her gutter and recognized her borrowed time was running out.

Viscera Serin

"She was easy enough to manipulate the first time," Marcus said with a laugh. "She's nothing but a lying whore, but at least she's an enthusiastic whore. I can see why you risked being sent to Menai for a chance to fuck her. I hope her cunt was worth it." Serin shook with rage and a visceral terror as Marcus approached him as well. Serin's body remembered what Marcus had done to it, what he was capable of. The goddess licked her lips. Delicious. He has such fear of you, Marcus. He feels such despair at the thought of you fucking his lover.

Lunge Alaia

Kiral crumpled beneath her, and she fell with him, twisting to avoid falling on his sword. Scrambling up, she lunged across the sand to Darian. Jesam held him in his lap, tears tracking down his dirty face as he held a hand over the wound, trying to staunch the blood that was gushing out. "Get the leathers off!" Alaia shouted as she kneeled beside them, taking Darian's pale ash-streaked face in between her hands. "You will stay with me. I will never forgive you if you told me I'm your mate only to run away from me to die." He tried to speak, his amber eyes pained as they locked onto hers, but nothing emerged from his mouth except blood, and he coughed.

Note Aleix

Aleix scrubbed a hand over his face, thinking he had never been so bored in his entire century of existence. Alaia was incredibly wary of all of them. As a result, she spent most of her time outside in the gardens behind the Hall of Healing. After Aleix had persuaded her to come to the beach with him, no one had been able to keep her out of them. So, he had spent the last four weeks watching as she weeded, pruned, and watered the plants. She resisted any attempts to draw her into conversation and continued to refuse offers to see the city or visit a grove. Which left him with nothing to do but stand there. Kiala said the gardening was good exercise to rebuild her endurance after her ordeal. Alaia had accepted the herbal and the little journal Kiala had offered her, taking the book outside with her and making notes about the various plants when her body made her rest. That had been fairly often to start, but he could tell she was gaining strength. The sun had given her pallid skin a healthy glow, and she was starting to put on some weight. All good signs of physical recovery. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, stifling a sigh. He was not used to being inactive.