#i'm so close to being done them and i don't want this ;;^;;

[honeybeefae]

White. That was all he saw: white. The absence of color, of existence, of everything he had ever known. There was no arcane in him, no Jayce, no sickness, not even himself. It was empty. Until a hand reached out blindly, the olive skin familiar as it grabbed him and pulled him back into the world. The color came back to his eyes and seemed brighter than he remembered. It was easier to breathe, and when he felt a softness underneath his fingers, Viktor registered that he could feel again. But when he saw that the softness underneath him was Jayce, he realized he could feel again. "Jayce..." Viktor murmured, voice undoubtedly soft as the man opened his eyes to look up at him. "Viktor," Jayce said just as tenderly, looking him over. "We did it. We're alive." They both looked around to see where exactly they were, rolling fields of tall grass and mountains in the distance being the only things they could see. A small stream was below them, the only sound other than their breathing, but that was it. No Piltover, no Academy, no Zaun nor Noxus. Just the two of them. "What happened?" Viktor wondered as he stood up shakily, grateful when Jayce immediately followed his lead and gave him his arm to lean on. "We-we should have died. The rune-" "I don't care what happened. I don't want to think about the what-ifs or anything like that. All I care about is that you are alive and safe..." Jayce interrupted him, holding him by the shoulders as he gazed down at him with utter adoration. "All I care about is that I've got my partner back." The smaller man couldn't think of a response or a rebuttal, the words dying on his lips as he recalls their final moments in the arcane. 'You were never broken, Viktor.'

"After everything I've done..." Viktor begins, swallowing thickly. "After all the suffering I created...what did I do to deserve this? To deserve you?" Jayce pushed some of Viktor's stray white colored hairs away from his face. He couldn't think of a response that could encapsulate his emotions for Viktor, so instead he pulled him close and pressed his forehead against his. And Viktor could feel the tears burning as they fell down his cheeks. He could feel all the unspoken words surrounding them, affirmations of love and acceptance nearly smothering them in language that transcended sentences. "I love you, Viktor." Jayce proclaimed. "You don't know me, Jayce." Viktor weakly protested even as he pressed his forehead harder against him. "I'm not the same person anymore." Jayce pulled back and cupped Viktor's face in his hands, giving him a smile that Viktor swore he would remember for the rest of time. "That's okay. I'll get to know you again." ----------- (This is my first arcane work and first Jayvik work, and god I hope you like it bc I love arcane so much and ugh this was so SWEET TO WRITE I JUST KNOW THEY ARE SO HAPPY)

"You don't know me. I'm not the same person anymore."

"That's okay. I'll get to know you again."

[shrimpswritingblog]

On me hands and knees may I request general romance hcs with Mud x reader? Maybe what he's like when he's whoops in way too deep and realises? Thank you omg

۶ৎ Mud x GN!Reader General Romance HCs

《 A/N: YESS I GOT YOU ANON!! THE CROWD GOES WILD 🗣‼️‼️ I'm IN LOVE with this guy I can't even lie, this prompt is cute asf <33 Ty for requesting! 》

───────────── ۶ৎ ────────────── “Ah, shit."

──���────────── ۶ৎ ──────────────

☠︎︎ He realizes he's in love with you when he catches himself stealing trinkets, not for himself, but because he thought 'Y/N might like this.'

☠︎︎ The realization hits him like bullet to the neck!

☠︎︎ He'd try to deny it at first, telling himself that you're just another ‘scheme’ he's working on.

☠︎︎ What scheme you may ask?

☠︎︎ Uh…

☠︎︎ "Just gettin' close to earn their trust... that's all." He lies murmurs to himself under his breath.

☠︎︎ Sure.

☠︎︎ You'd notice him watching you from across the butchershop, quickly averting his eyes whenever you catch him staring.

☠︎︎ Despite his decaying appearance, Mud becomes oddly self-conscious around you when he’s fallen deep!

☠︎︎ He’s adjusting his fedora, straightening his tie and even making sure the melting skin on his face looks ‘presentable’.

☠︎︎ Ken can read his brother like a book, he often catches him staring at you when he thinks you aren’t looking.

☠︎︎ "Me? In love?! With Y/N?! HAHAHA! That's rich!” He throws his head back as he cackles fakely. After he’s done ‘laughing’, he’ll probably beat on his chest to clear his throat.

☠︎︎ Ken just rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

☠︎︎ There’s definitely been instances where he asks Ken to cement a person who’s been harassing you around town under the guise of them being an awful person (which they are) similar to how Ken avoided telling Mud why they were trying to hunt Jack.

☠︎︎ When you ask him directly why he's been acting…strange, he'd respond with something like: “Strange? Me? I ain't strange, doll! I'm the most normal rotling in this whole district. It's YOU who's been actin' funny!”

☠︎︎ Watching the light in your eyes sparkle as he hands you a present really warms his heart…wait does he even have one—

☠︎︎ He’ll probably confess with a bouquet of stolen flowers, the ones you once mentioned liking in passing.

☠︎︎ He'd try to impress you with his shooting skills FOR SURE!!

☠︎︎ Despite all these cute gestures, the guy is a BIG flirt and a little shit!

☠︎︎ Since Mud is over 7 feet, the MAN IS TALL and will use it to his advantage!

☠︎︎ And so, he WILL blow smoke in your face lovingly and has the AUDACITY to chuckle to himself as he watches you swat away the fumes from your face

☠︎︎ Plus it doesn’t help that he finds you even more irresistible when you’re mad

☠︎︎ Despite his crass nature, he's surprisingly gentle with you, ONLY in private if course!

☠︎︎ But sometimes he does forget when he’s in front of his (soon to be your) family or flat out doesn’t care, so his sudden tenderness confuses the hell out of the others.

☠︎︎ “GET A ROOM!”

☠︎︎ Speaking of rooms!

☠︎︎ Since the poor fella sleeps on meat hooks in the freezer room, you bought him the mattress he’d been desperately wanting. (The gesture made him fall for you even harder)

☠︎︎ His idea of romance would be teaching you how to shoot/improving your skill if you already know how!

☠︎︎ He starts setting aside some of his stolen goods in a special "Y/N Fund" for your future together.

☠︎︎ He feels so cheesy but he genuinely thinks not being around you is worse than the Inferno itself.

☠︎︎ He’d say cute stuff like that all the time before adding something along the lines of: “Don't you dare tell anyone I said that."

☠︎︎ When you two drift asleep in the same mattress you bought him, he definitely stays awake a little longer to watch you sleep with a content smile on his face before he dozes off.

[entitled-fangirl]

A big change.

Nolan Grayson x wife!reader

Summary: When Nolan hears the news, he's immediately distraught.

Warning: so angsty🙁 this fandom hates happiness, bed-talk, mentions of sex, etc, spoilers for end of S1 I suppose

Masterlist

................................................

"Nolan?"

He paused mid-chew, his fork still in his hand. 

The two of you hadn't truly talked about what you were going to tell him. 

You were pregnant. 

It had been part of the bed-talk you shared. When he was deep inside you and whispered how beautiful you'd look swollen with his seed. But that was it. 

The pregnancy test you'd taken this morning proved otherwise.

He set his utensil down, sensing the seriousness in your voice. He hated when your voice held that worried tinge to it. "What's wrong?"

You pick at your nails. Your brows furrow. You had no idea how to say it, but you knew it needed to be done.

His eyes flickered down to your hands before putting his own over them. "I'm listening."

His thumb rubbing patterns on your hand gave you a bit of assurance. You took a deep breath, avoiding all eye contact. "I'm pregnant."

Nolan goes stiff. His eyes don't move from your face. His breathing even slows. It's eery, and definitely not the type of response you wanted.

Then without anything else, he stood and left.

You heard the back door shut. He flew off to god knows where. 

And you're stuck at the dinner table, your plate completely untouched.

…

Nolan came back long after the sun had set. You had cried yourself to sleep in your shared bed. The tear streaks were still across your face.

His heart shattered when he stepped in. You were in the fetal position, curled in on yourself. And he'd been gone. Left you to cry until you grew too tired to continue. 

His thumb rubbed over your cheek, collecting the salty tears from your skin. The guilt worsened when you instinctively leaned into his hand. 

He was fighting with himself.

The moment you said it, his entire world broke away, and the truth of his life reappeared. A reminder that this world, this life, this love… it wasn't real. It wasn't for him. 

But god, he wanted it to be.

He loved you.

He wanted to wait until you grew old. Until you were gone. Your life was a mere blink for him and he was willing to wait to become a conqueror. He never wanted you to see that side of him. 

The sand in the hourglass of earth's freedom began to fall the moment you uttered those words. 

It was too much for him. And he couldn't afford to let you see him slip. So that's why he left. To come to terms with the fetus in your womb.

Deep down, he was excited. You're carrying a Viltrumite. A child. A child that will be all powerful… and still look like you. Fuck, he hoped it looked just like you.

He never wanted to lose the sight of your pretty face. 

Even when you're long gone, he'd have your child. Your eyes. Or maybe your hair. He hoped it had your smile.

His thumb rubbed again against your cheek, which caused you to stir. He sat at your side, "Hi, sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, setting on your husband. "Hi," you croaked.

He sighed, continuing his ministrations. "I handled things poorly. Forgive me."

You hummed. "'S alright."

His shoulder slump with your willingness to forgive him for almost ruining everything the two of you had built together. 

"It's a big change, is all."

You had no idea how right you were. Not just a change for you two. For the entire planet. 

"Yeah." He brushes your hair away from your face. 

"W…What are you thinking?"

He hums, just appreciating being close to you. His time with you was now ticking, and he just became more appreciative of each second. 

But how did he truly feel about all of this? 

"It's uh…" He jaw set. 

You sat up, keeping the blanket around you. You were hanging off of every word your husband was saying. 

"It's wonderful," he says softly. "I'm happy. Truly." 

You tilt you head, trying to read him. "You are?"

No. "Absolutely. This is great."

Your voice is relieved, albeit shaky, "yeah?"

He smiles. "Yeah."

He places a soft kiss to your lips before laying down next to you.

…

You should have known. 

You should have known he lied.

"You love me! You love Mom! I know you do." Mark shouted.

You stood with shaky legs next to Cecil, watching the screen like your life depended on it. It did.

The only man you love was now a danger to the planet. A danger to your greatest treasure. Your Mark.

You could see the turmoil on your sons's face. The tear streaks down his cheeks. The utter confusion and hurt of being lied to.

And somewhere in there… behind his goggles… understanding. A choice that determines everything. And Nolan was almost winning him over.

"I do love your mother. But she's more like a…"

You freeze, feeling the same way you did almost twenty years ago when you told him you were pregnant. The way you hung on to his every word.

"…a pet to me."

"A pet?!" Mark whispered. 

You let out a sob. That lying bastard. You hated him. You hated everything he did. Every lie he ever told. But you know that you didn't hate him at all. And that was the problem.

You loved him. You loved every lie that ever put you into that false sense of security.

Cecil immediately came to your aid, helping you keep up on your legs. His arm wrapped around your shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry."

But you didn't hear him. 

You watched your brave Mark, too kindhearted for his own good, too soft and loved, raise his fists to the biggest threat to humanity- his own father.

And there was nothing you could do.

…

But as you laid in bed with Nolan that night 20 years ago, you felt loved. So loved. 

With your sweet Nolan by your side, what could go wrong?

..................................................................

[domesticatedstew]

I finished the fic from the wonderful ideas of @hostuuagain and @brainzezz !!! Basically it's Mel and Breadhead bonding while sharing myths and stories that they heard from Ken and Mud!

It was finally a day off, a scarcity when working at the Whale Belly Butcher shop. Even though a break from time to time was pleasant, Mel absolutely hated being bored. And having time off equals BOREDOM.

Ken and Mud were off doing a "restock" for the resturant which was just code for kidnapping random fly people, picking up actual supplies for the resturant, and taking care of a few... pests along the way. Jack was home with his mother for his day off, which bummed out Mel a bit but she couldn't blame him for wanting time away from his work family.

At least Breadhead was still here. He had opted out of going with the other smiling dead crew to instead practice his piano playing. Mel had always liked listening to Breadhead's playing, he was pretty skilled for having no training other than the basics that Ken showed him. It reminded Mel of when she was still little, watching her older brother play the piano while her dad held her closely. Simpler times.

But reminiscing on the past wasn't gonna cure her boredom.

"Sooooo..." Mel slid over beside her large bread brother, watching him gracefully play despite how much larger his fingers were compared to the keys. "I'm bored aaand you're the only one here, you wanna mess some shit up?"

She was ready to keep her mischievous streak strong and steady, any risk was worth killing her boredom. Breadhead turned his massive loaf to look at her, pausing his playing to think. "Nah, I dont really wanna go anywhere today. 'm not in the mood." He said before returning to the song without skipping a beat.

Mel scoffed "Well then what do you want to do? Cuz either we do something together or I do something alone." Breadhead didn't like the idea of his sister causing mayhem by herself. Yeah she could hold her own but despite all the years they've grown together, he still hadn't seen her die or revive. Part of him was terrified that maybe something was wrong with her and she wasn't immortal like everyone else.

He wasnt about to find out now. "Hmmm... What if we told ghost stories and urban legends like when we were little?" Now Mel looked intrigued, which calmed his nerves thankfully. "Ghost stories? Alright bread boy, but you better still not get scared of them like you did when we were little," She teased, giving him an affectionate punch to his arm.

Breadhead wasn't about to admit that the stories of an angel storm devouring anything and everything in their path still gave him the chills.

They were now sat across from each other, Breadhead sitting in two chairs so he'd be comfortable. It still amazed Mel how her brother was such a massive dude, that didn't stop her from teasing him to the ends of the earth. It was even better when they were both teasing Mud or Ken.

"Alright!! Lemme try to remember a story," Mel thought long and hard for done spooky story her dad had told her when she was little.

"I GOT IT!!! Do you remember the story dad told us about the rotling that's been here since the beginning of the gaslight district?" Breadhead shook his head no, and Mel felt a little bit disappointed in him that he didn't remember such an awesome part of rotling history. "Ok well you don't need to remember cuz I'm gonna tell you anyway.

Long ago, before the world became just one island, there was a rotling who told stories of the world before rotlings. A world full of greenery and animals, one where humans ruled the world." Mel whispered when she mentioned humans, feeling slightly hurt when her brother recoiled at the mere mention of a human. She couldn't blame him though, humans are their own urban legend that Mel didn't want to bring up too much.

"They say he would talk about how the skies used to be blue, and there was this green stuff that'd grow from the ground called grass, and that the sun would light up the whole planet without needing any gas lamps. It was a world full of life, and according to the guy if you died that'd be it. No coming back."

"Do you know what they did to him Mel?" Breadhead looked genuinely curious, not his usual 'I've got some joke planned and you don't know' look.

"Supposedly, he was the first ever rotling to be cemeted," She mischievously whispered, leaning in to add a dramatic effect. It seemed to do the trick since Breadhead leaned in too like they were worried about being listened in on, "Woahhh, and you said dad told you that?"

"Yup," She popped the P, "He only told me the cementing part when I was a bit older though. SO, you got any stories you wanna tell?"

Breadhead didn't think nearly as long or hard about the story he wanted to tell, "What about the Gas Man? You've gotta remember Mud telling us that one before bed," He let out a deep chuckle. "How could I forget it? It was Mud's favorite thing to tell us to get us to go to bed," Mel remembered all the times Mud threatened them with the idea of the Gas Man and let out a laugh at the memory.

"I think it went somethin like like this," Breadhead straighted up and got into his story telling position, knees up to his chest with his arms out like he was trying to read a crystal ball to get your fortune. "You ever wonder how so many of our lamps stay lit? You can thank the Gas Man, he goes around the island lighting any lamp he sees out. Some people say they've seen 'im, but they're fibbin'. Cuz if you've ever met the Gas Man, you don't come back. Mud said if the Gas Man catches you, he turns your fluids into oil and uses your flesh to light the lamps. He takes anyone that's out too late, no one's safe from the Gas Man."

Mel cringed at the idea of being turned into fuel for the lamps of the district. Even when she was little she never liked thinking about it for too long, she guessed that childhood fears aren't really stuck in childhood.

Breadhead caught on immediately and started giggling at his little sister's discomfort. Mel shot a glare at the loaf and that shut him up.

"Ok ok ok, you wanna hear about how cementing started?" Breadhead nodded vigorously, unsurprising to Mel considering how much joy he takes from crushing and eating rotlings and fly people.

"So, it all obviously started with that one guy who wouldn't shut up about... you know whats. And the others were pretty sick of his ramblings of the world before ours, and since they couldn't kill him they thought 'why don't we just try to lock him up?' It worked but only for a few centuries when people forgot about him and he escaped, he started talking about more weird and gross creatures once he was free. Everyone was sick and tired of the guy. So one brave rotling decided to try and drown him, they gathered as much rocks and bricks as they could, tied it to the insane guy, and threw him off the island into the depths." Mel acted out the motions of throwing someone off into the ocean, something she had hoped she could actually do one of these days (if Ken would let her.)

"It worked even better than just locking him up, and people forgot about him for even longer. It was nice without some insane man's ramblings on the island. But like usual, he came back. He was one crafty son of a bitch and made it everyone's problem. This time though, he was talking about their buildings, specifically this material that could withstand the test of time. He even insisted that there was still some of it underwater from eons ago.

So with one last ditch effort, that same brave rotling as before dove under the island and collected as much ancient rubble as he could (all while only drowning a couple of times.)" She whispered that last part to Breadhead, who seemed rather impressed by the notion.

"He listened to the mad man's rants, figuring out the best way to turn this trash into something that'd finally rid everyone from this annoyance. From those ramblings and rants, the rotling learned how to make cement. And it was perfect. The first ever cement block wasn't the best looking, but when that insane guy went plummeting into the cold depths below, he never came back up. Other people realized how useful this could be and started making their own cement! And then it became the best way to get rid of any annoying preacher or local mad man. Or in our case anyone with too much money," Mel chuckled at her own joke, thankfully Breadhead thought it was funny too.

"Wow Mel, and dad told you all this? He's never told me stories like that," The loaf seemed sad at that fact, and Mel realized that Ken never really did tell stories to Breadhead like he did with his daughter. "Well it's ok Breadhead! Dad takes you on missions and to go out and do hits, he doesn't do that with me!" While she hoped that'd change soon, she didn't want to ruin the moment for her brother.

"Thank you Mel," Breadhead said while giving her the biggest smile ever. "You wanna steal some of Mud's stash and get wasted?"

Mel's smile grew as wide as her brothers, "You read my mind bread boy!"

[f1samcro]

New vs Old

Based off this ask from @bear-ink

Hi, I love your writing. Please could I request Jax Teller ? Jax and reader are co parenting, and Tara isn’t making it easy for them with her jealousy, but she is the mother of jax’s child and he stands by her over everyone else, as he never stopped loving her.

You and Jax had loved each other, really. You'd been there after Tara had first left, held him and let him cry. And once he stopped being upset, you let him hold you close and take you out on dates. By the time you were 23, after being together for three years, you got married. Life was good. You two were good. Until you weren't. You couldn't really remember when, it wasn't a sudden change. It started with Jax coming home a little later, not much, but enough for you to be almost in bed. Then you both stopped talking so much, stopped leaning in for random kisses when you walked past each other. You two tried. Tried counselling. But it was staring you right in the face, you and Jax just didn't love each other like that anymore. So, you split after seven years of marriage.

You were supposed to move out after you found some footing. That was the plan, but you had to skip out on an apartment showing due to illness, and Jax had decided to stay and look after you. (You really weren't well.) After a few days, he insisted that you go to the doctors. That's when you found out. Pregnant. Three months. The only thing you could think of was you and Jax's 'one last time'. He insisted you stay in the house, so you did.

On the 25th of August 2008, Abel John Teller was born. You and Jax found your rhythm. Gemma had practically applauded you two for your ability to co-parent. Until Tara showed back up. It was bound to cause problems when you swung the door open to see her during Abel's first birthday party. To his credit, Jax did loom over your shoulder when you didn't come back quickly, and he had told her to go away. Then he slammed the door closed, planted his hands on your shoulders, and pushed you back into the kitchen just in time for cake.

But after that, Tara was around a lot more. You and Jax had found it easier to co-parent a baby in the same home. You agreed you would move out when he started school. But for now, if Jax wanted some alone time or time with a woman, he would stay at the club for the night and be back home by lunch. A kiss to Abel's head, hand running over it softly, and a kiss to your cheek. But then that stopped. Because when he'd open the door, Tara would follow him in. He kept the small ritual for a while, until you heard a nasty-sounding argument between the two. Then he stopped. And Tara kept trying to mother Abel. Would push you out as much as she could. You let her more than you should've, trying to keep the peace between Abel's father and his girlfriend. But this was your last straw. You were taking Abel to the park, and Tara tagged along. And then she took Abel from your arms, the second she saw people she knew. Introduced him as her son, and you as the nanny.

The second you got home, you rounded on Jax. Snatching your baby out of Tara's arms, "If you don't sort her the fuck out, I'm leaving. And I'm taking Abel with me."

"Woah. Hey. C'mon, let's not overrea-"

"Don't finish that sentence, Jackson. If anything, I'm underacting. I've let your stupid bitch walk all over me. I'm done. Sort her out, or I'm gone."

Jax furrows his eyebrows, looking over your shoulder at Tara, who was fuming. "The hell did you do, Tara?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. She's not threatening to take my son away, jus' 'cos you did 'nothing'."

She narrows her eyes at him, watching as he tilts your face up and leans forward to kiss your forehead, whispering something. You nod and turn, walking to Abel's room to put him to bed.

Jax stares his girlfriend down until you return, you sigh softly and look at him. "I took Abel to the park, and she tagged along. Saw her friends, how she got the-"

"Stick to the story, darlin'."

You huff, crossing your arms, "Snatched him outta my arms, introduced him as her son. And me as the fuckin' nanny."

Jax runs a hand over his head, "What the hell, Tara!"

She straightens her back, "What?"

He narrows his eyes, "You think I haven't noticed? Not the first time you've pulled this shit. And we've discussed it. Multiple times. You're not Abel's mother. She is. And you'll show her some goddamn respect."

Tara scoffs, "You're taking her side?!"

"Why wouldn't I? She's the mother of my child. I'm always gonna take her side. 'Specially when she's not the one in the wrong."

Tara glares, "Always. Right. And if she was wrong?"

"Then I'd be havin' this discussion with her." He looks over at you, and then back at Tara, "I think you should go."

She blinks, "What?"

"Get. Out."

She shakes her head, "C'mon, Jax. I love-"

He cuts her off, "I don't. I won't love someone who's tryin' to tear my family apart. So get out. Don't come back."

She sneers, turning to you, "You stole him from me!"

Jax scoffs, "Wasn't ever really yours. Not when you couldn't respect my family."

"I was supposed to be your family!"

Jax tilts his head, scrutinising her, "You could've been. But you can't understand that she's my family. I need-"

"Her. You need her! You still love her!"

Jax nods, "Maybe I do. Can't exactly blame me, can you? You expect me to sit here and watch her be the best mother my son could ask for, and not fall back in love with her?"

Both you and Tara pause, watching each other. She turns abruptly and storms out of the house, door slamming behind her. You look over at Jax, who shakes his head, "Movie?"

You nod slowly, "Movie it is."

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Hi! I went feral with the latest ask of the boys not being able to make the reader cum, so let's inflate their egos a little:

How about reader with a bad experience in sexual encounters? Like faking orgasms with their previous partners cuz they weren't able to make her cum, the sex for the reader doesn't bring her pleasure cuz it never felt good for her part or it was just man-focused ykwim. Reader just thinks is because low libido or that something's wrong with her, but when the boys (separately) find out and get their hands to work it's like boom, k.o. HAHAHAHA dean would put like a certificate on a wall for being the first man on earth to please reader properly I'm sure about it

In other news, just read the prologue of your latest work! Definetely gonna keep up, so good istg, take care bae, glad you're here doing amazing things🤸🏼‍♀️💕

You lovelies just keep outdoing yourselves! ❤️I love this one as well as your last one! Chef's kiss!

I feel like Dean wouldn't say anything in the moment. He'd let her fake it, just to make sure he knows what the situation is, and then after, when they're both lying next to each other, catching their breath, he'd turn to her with one of those charming grins, and go: "So, we gonna try that again for real?"

There'd be some stuttering on her part, but Dean's been around the block often enough to know the real ones from the fake ones. He'd let it rest for the moment, but the next time the two of them get busy and she's urging him to fuck her, Dean's taking a detour down Thigh Highway right to the Valley of Sin - his words. And to town he goes, going for every trick in the book. Because something's bound to work, right?

And of course it does. Because Dean's a trier. And he always gets the job done. (Hence the certificate on the wall you mentioned 😄).

Now Sam's a different matter. He stops when he can tell she's not having a great time. He stops, checks in and she might try to convince him that everything's a-ok (and genuinely believe it because of her past experiences), but Sam's not having it. He stops and wants to talk, cause that's the kind of guy he is. Depending on how willing you are to talk about what's really going on, Sam will either postpone sexy times to some other day and cuddle up (see, there's some similarities to the last one, I just want Sam cuddles), or slowly start things up again - and I mean slow. This feels good? Alright, how about this?

By the end of it, you're probably so close to bursting that all it takes is for Sam to blow on you - figuratively. Kind of. And to be very clear, he hasn't even entered you at that point. But don't worry. You're getting to that. Post haste. Cause you know what's better than one?

Two. 😉

Aaah, this was so fun! How did I do? 😄

[lilicuzi]

THE HARBOUR

so I made a parallel princess for the servant, both of them share the chapter 3 of your own creation and I listened to sailor song making her. gory and description under cut.

chapter 1 The Princess

in contrast to the servant you rely on her, the power is entirely shifted to her. to get the Harbour I have two ideas both in the soft princess route. either referring to her about the blade, when she asks about a key then you can mention the blade so that you can come back with the blade without causing alarm. “I saw a blade upstairs, should I have brought it down?” or when she bites her arm and the knife is dropped to save or slay the princess you instead can kick the blade to her instead she can handle the responsibility of this situation.

this would solidify the idea of you being passive, all actions done are not malicious and detrimental if you wanted to cause harm, she thinks you don't want control so she will be a princess that leads. (the servant contrast) up the stairs the narrator will try you get you to kill her but since you don't have the blade she's in close proximity so he makes you claw her eyes. she fails, knife in hand and you both fall down the stairs and bleed out, everything goes dark and you die. next time you get the voice of the broken, maybe smitten or cheated since you got close to leaving and hurt her without choice.

chapter 2 The Harbour

The cabin is salty and tropical kinda like the lower layer of a pirate ship or a tide pool in a way, in the basement has a low layer of water that is constantly shifting and crashes against the stones that get denser towards the basement walls. I'm the center of the room is the princess her dress tighter around her but the skirt is constantly covered by the waves of hair on her which flows to be the waters. her crown shoots up like the rocks seen in a tide pool and her face is unseen, always facing away or covered by hair because it casts a stream of light.

she's based on a light house, providing light for you when your lost, she is a flashlight direct, helpful and leads the way for you. she is a leader as a princess, she acts rather pushy and closed off despite constantly alluding to keeping you. both the Harbour and the Servant are repression and serving due to circumstance in opposite ways, one bottles rage in the face of tyranny wants you to leave her alone, the other bottles weakness as a leader wants you to stay. she falters under the weighs on her shoulders, she has to let you go so she makes that choice for you because you won't and yet you're all she knows is not her and can't help but hide that after all she's so much more than you, to lead without a destination for herself.

The entire time she guides you to leave making polite small talk if only to get you out quickly, hand in hand she turns away from you walking you back out the basement while the waves push harshly against it. the closer to the door you get the higher the tide will move not the water level rising but more violent currents that don't touch you. the second she bids you farewell, water rushes up the stairs filling the cabi, yet you don't drown the pressure crushes you far before all the air leaves your lungs. you become a plate on the floor.

chapter 3 Of Your Own Creation

she is shared between the servant and the Harbour I started at the idea of bioluminescence and created the Harbour. all chapter 3 come from acting different to chapter 2 so in both you are no longer passive. when with the Harbour she thinks you will follow peacefully but you won't. either stabbing her or constantly trying to get in her face to see the light (the servant contrast as you annoy her enough to snap back) I drew the violent option. either way it's unexpected as previously you just followed around and are now taking initiative in the worse way possible and is starting to think you meant to claw her eyes out, so she grabs your head and forces you to see her face. no eyes just a trypophobia inducing mirage of lights to blind you, she is still a flashlight and it burns your retinas to stare into a light out of stupidity that was only meant to guide. forcing you to see her face brings her really close, close enough for her to tear out your feathers with her teeth. the both of you are pushed against each other knife in her chest that stabs into the plucked flesh of your chest and a loss of eye sight from staring at such a harsh light. you are joined by the voice of the opportunist by stabbing her or skeptic / contrarian by seeing her.

she is conflicted, she doesn't know how to think you've been everything awful and meek, pitiful and violent but she knows you are everything else that's not her, she likes that intimacy of being a canvas for your contradictions. everything was of your own creation. that's the connection her waves of hair become you, it's feathers on the ground and lights are her she's an angler fish in the dark she is yours and you could never see anyone or anything else. her crown becomes a feathered diadem the space is for you to fill, (I gave OYOC a diadem since the servant is a princess again while the Harbour looses the middle which is often the focal point in a tiara since it's nothing but you that matters to her now) she grows eyes, pupils so dilated there's nothing behind them but the void that you are. I already explained OYOC so I will leave that there but this an explanation of her in relation to the Harbour.

chapter 3 The pearl

to get to this chapter 3 in contrast is more peaceful you want to stay with her, in the cabin or not and with persistence and stubbornness you will not leave her cabin or not. she wants you to leave but truly got attached you have agency this time and you use it to draw out the yearning in her heart to corner off the facade in favour of someone beautiful. (kinda like the revolution) it takes effort and you fall from the ragged waves roaring at her distress… but then she's exhausted the currents calm from the release and if you stay then it's your choice right? while on the ground she lays her head on your lap under the water level. your lower half is submerged, its peaceful and the narrator is screaming at you, the level of water slowly lowers as you see bubble after bubble trail of into the atmosphere it's humid then suffocating there's more water than oxygen as you slowly drown beside the sleeping body. she wakes up and you both see faces leaking water from your orifices (that one steven universe episode) everything goes dark and you die joined by the skeptic or smitten or cheated.

This time the cabin is at the bottom of a sea which is parted to provide you access in the cabin which is flooded entirely, you dive into the basement rather than walk or rather you get swept into there by her waves that provide a constantly swirling pocket among them to breathe and see. she's far away but controls the tides to make a shark tunnel of space to find her, she is glowing entirely now yet much softer a light no longer directed with purpose no longer a danger to witness, her eyes close to a pure calm face and a soft smile. her dress is now a swim suit she sits comfortably on the tides bobbing back and forth still in you vision.

with a weight so heavy on her she is almost doll like the responsibility on her is as vast as the ocean and she's not crumbling but faded an ephemeral being your not supposed to see, slipping from your grasp you can let her disappear from you her waves push you back without resistance and once back in the cabin a whirlpool is made for her to see you. with her eyes open is the despair of such a life everything locked back away under guilt for killing you she thanks you for staying with her but it's better for the both of you to let go, she wishes you well. or you could swim to her the whole way. How determined are you to go against her tides pulling back against her shame and pain everytime you meet? How willing are you to whittle her resolve just to feel her embrace? how hard will you go to suffer every moment together? if that's your price then you can will it. at the last moment a wave crashes behind you forcing you into her in a hard painful blow, the velocity melts you together your feathers into her hair a dark grey mass is all that's left but that one moment before the demise might have been all so worth it. you dissolve into her and she swarms you it's peaceful.

yay I finished finally, hope yall like her and the symbolism isn't too on the nose but also I don't care anymore I worked on this for so long my brain is mush. I didn't realize there's a limit on photos but I'll remember next time.

it took atleast 5 hours to write this as tumblr didn't load 2 hours of writing last night. ::')

[meadhalfempty]

A/N: Apologies for the late upload, we didn't account for the holiday weekend.

This is my personal favorite chapter - it was the most fun to write (and hardest to edit) and it's been killing me to not upload all of the chapters at once but 'blah blah makes the heart grow fonder' or some nonsense.

Please note the warnings! Also, this is another long one, I would opt for a full meal this time. It's over 3k words because I am a certified yapper.

{And yes, I'm still working on my Thranduil x OFC (now that all of "Eglantine" is edited, just being uploaded at a glacial pace because I know how that thrills you...) Once I get ahead on them I will be updating my masterlist with post dates for those chapters, along with my AO3 link so you can read all my works there. The Thranduil x OFC is a full-fledged work and will be too much to post solely on here. I will be uploading "Eglantine" to my AO3 as well so don't worry if it gets lost in Tumblr}

Love you so much! 🖤

A sickness had fallen upon the camp. The younglings had it the worst, crying all hours of the night with high fevers. Some of the adults had been confined to a corner of the grounds, quarantined from the rest to contain the spread. Up early before the sun and long after it had set, she and the two other healers had seen nearly everyone at least twice, checking frequently for early signs of whitening eyes. Everyone had come to them for aid, everyone but him.

He had not called for her once. At any other time like this, he would have requested her presence at least twice a day, to make sure that he was not succumbing to illness. First thing in the morning and lastly at night. He would have come to her door while he was out making rounds in the afternoons, ‘for good measure’, he would say, and loiter around her rooms until he was called away. But he hadn't been seen in days.

She would wake with no word from Glûg, no message slipped beneath her door. She would return from hours of work to gather more medicines with no interruptive knocks or announcements of his impending arrival. She would go to sleep without having even seen a glimpse of him the entire day.

She assumed he was held up alone, avoiding the possibility of ill health. This would not have been the first time he had locked himself away for his own protection. But even when she had decided that enough was enough and came to his door,

“What do you want?” Glûg had answered with his body blocking entry.

“I was just…” she tried to peer around him, “is he well?”

“He is…fine.”

She could hear the hesitation of his lie and her eyes narrowed.

“May I see him?” She tried to coax her way inside, feeling in her gut that something was amiss, “just to make sure he's not feverish? That shoulder wound is still healing, he's more susceptible to -”

“Lord Father does not wish to see you.” Glûg spoke plainly, his words showing little emotion. If it had not been for the worry in his eyes, she might have believed him.

“He doesn’t wish to see me?” she raised a brow, completely unconvinced. She was about to dispute his obvious false statement when she heard the familiar gait of boots slowly approaching the door. She tried again to look over his shoulder, determined to catch a glimpse - the door slowly closed, Glûg stepping out of the way with a sorrowful scowl.

She waited for the sound of footsteps. The whisperings of words from the other side of the door. Anything. He had known she was there. He closed the door in her face. All without a single word. An overwhelming feeling of distress plummeted to the pit of her stomach, as if she were drowning in the mud beneath her feet. Had she done something wrong? Her mind all at once recounted every moment of their last interaction as she walked back to her hovel - had she done something wrong? Perhaps she should not have lingered. Should not have gotten so close to him, too close. She should not have overstepped, should not have pushed a boundary. Professionalism, she cursed herself, barely making it back to her rooms before her eyes welled over.

But still, she waited.

She looked for him around every corner.

She listened for her name.

Only after another few days of nothing, could she stand it no longer. She needed to confront him, whether or not she would be accepted. Glûg would have to drag her away by force. Ban her from the camp, exile her to another plain. She was going to knock on that door and demand an explanation.

She waited until nightfall, after all had settled and she knew he would not be disturbed. Making sure her bunkmates were fast asleep, she snuck quietly through the camp. Her heart was racing and hands were sweating. Lord Father does not wish to see you, repeated in her mind with each step closer to his door. Lord Father does not wish to see you, she walked past the leathersmith. Lord Father no longer needs you, she would not bring herself to believe.

She took deep breaths, readying herself as she approached the dim lights coming from his windows. She checked quickly for any signs that he might not be alone. No Glûg. No other orcs taking up his time.

She slowly stepped closer, her heart beating louder and louder. One more deep breath and she knocked forcefully, “Lord Father.”

Silence.

She wiped her hands on her dress and knocked again. She knew he could hear her. The shuffling echoes from behind the door, halting.

Nothing.

She had a fleeting thought to turn around. Retreat and just give up. Take Glûg’s word that he did not wish to see her - see anyone for that matter, and try to get some sleep. But how could she sleep without knowing for certain? No. Determined, she pushed against the door and it swung open freely, much to her surprise. She stumbled into the room - he was sitting at the dining table, all focus on his plate. 

“I did not permit you to enter.” His words were cold. Lifeless.

“I knocked,” her returning words full of agitation, “I know that you heard me.”

“I did,” he sipped his wine, “and I ignored it.”

She sighed in frustration, near ready to charge at him from across the room. But she kept her composure, straightening her shoulders. “Are you well?”

“Never better,” he pulled a bit of meat from a bone, ripping it apart with a ferocity that made her stomach churn.

And she was completely unconvinced. “You have not called for me in a few days. I have not seen - no one has seen you around the camp.”

He continued to ignore her, refusing to look up. Fork in hand, he stabbed at his food, hoping that she would not see the tremble in his grip.

“I came to you the other night,” she watched for a reaction, for anything on his face to change. “Glûg said that you did not wish to see me.”

He paused, swallowing a mouthful. “I no longer need you.”

She recoiled, her heart sinking so deep that it burned. Surely, he did not mean those words, those words that she tormented herself with in cruel jest. He did not mean them. He could not mean them.

But he sat there, sipping his wine, eyes still opposing her presence. He seemed unbothered, unfaltered by the unrest she was very clearly emoting.

“Anything else?” he sipped again, nearly choking on wine that suddenly seemed thicker than mud in his discomposure.

She looked to the ceiling, fearing that a single blink would shed tears and she did not dare give him that satisfaction. She shook her head,

“I suppose not.”

“Then you may leave,” he said and she blinked, heavily. “I hear there is a sickness around the camp. Surely there are other things to tend to.”

She felt like screaming. Screaming so that all of Middle Earth could hear the downright fury that was coursing through her veins. Anger beginning to overpower sadness, her fingers curled to fists at her sides. How could he be so cold? How dare he treat her so unkind when she was so noticeably upset. Had he just looked at her, he would have clearly seen the pain in her eyes at his cruel words. His inhospitable behavior.

She could no longer stand it, 

“Forgive me for showing concern -”

“Do not pretend to care for me!” He slammed his palms on the table and stood suddenly, pushing back his chair with the back of his knees. His eyes closed tightly, “I cannot keep telling myself that your concern is anything other than obligation.”

“Obligation?!” she yelled across the room, taking one stern step forward. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you truly believe that my concern is only some absurd obligation!”

He could not look at her. He pushed himself off of the table, head still low and eyes still avoiding even glancing toward that side of the room. He could not bring himself to even take a deep breath, fear that her scent would send him and he might lash out, unable to control his irritability. If only she could understand how much it vexed him - how much she vexed his patience after their last interaction. If it had meant anything, she was clear in the way that she felt and he no longer wished to be tormented by her existence.

He said nothing, turning away to retreat to his room,

“Stop!” her voice cracked and he froze, mid-step, “look at me.”

He could hear the tremble in her voice, in the gasping breath that she took. He closed his eyes, terrified to face her. She could not see him like this, eyes on the verge of welling over with contrition. He turned his head. Speaking over his shoulder, “you ran.”

 Her mouth opened and closed again, searching for words. “I - I do not understand -”

“Before. You ran.” He was suddenly charging in her direction, angry and afflicted and needing - no, demanding an explanation. “You ran from me. Why?” 

She jumped at his sudden shift in attitude and demeanor, taking a step back as he came closer. She opened her mouth to speak but again, nothing. Even if she wanted to, words were spewing out of his mouth with such ferocity that all she could do was stand there, petrified.

“Are you afraid of me?” he hissed, leering over her in intimidation. “Do I frighten you? Is that why you ran from me? Do I invoke some kind of hatred and disgust?” His words were sharp, slicing through the room like daggers. He felt his body turn to stone, tense and hands shaking at his sides. 

A tear for each of his words fell from her sorrowful eyes. She no longer cared what he might think at the sight of her weeping, that anger and sadness still battling for dominance in her mind.

“Are you so deep in your own self-loathing that you cannot step outside yourself for one moment and try to understand how this must feel for me?”

He let out a long-held breath, his shoulders falling. His brow furrowed, perturbed by her question.

“You took everything away from me,” her words were just as sharp, aiming back at him, “my village was burned to the ground, my family and friends slaughtered at your command. You made me a slave in this place.”

“I gave you the chance to leave,” he reminded and took another step closer, “I gave you a chance to leave that night, do you not remember? That night you came to me, you saved my life and I told you… I told you, a life for a life. And you chose to stay.”

“I stayed for you,” she finally admitted, much to her chagrin. 

“Why?” another step forward and he shook her shoulders, “Why would you - you could have been free of all of this. Free of me.”

Free of him, as if it were so simple.

“You told me once about the Uruk,” she carefully searched for the words. “You said that the Uruk used to be elves. Enslaved my Morgoth and turned into monsters, their light extinguished and replaced by darkness.”

He recalled that drunken conversation months and months ago. She had asked him about the scars and burns and brands over his body whilst stitching up his back. And with his inhibitions lowered from too much wine to numb the pain - had he really divulged such delicate information to someone he had hardly known, at the time? He could scarcely recall that night, the wine aiding him to sleep soon after she had left his side. He could hardly believe that he would have trusted anyone with that pain, those sharp memories of a past life he tried so desperately to forget. 

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and took a step away. But followed with slow steps,

“I wanted to leave. I had planned to find a way to leave,” she confessed. “But that night you called for me. You laid on that table clinging to life and I was the one that you called. I came to you and I saw…” she could hardly muster the words, tears getting caught in her throat again, “you looked at me and I saw a light. I did not fully understand, not until you told me… but I saw it.” She reached out for him, her hand gently cupping his face and he leaned into her touch, “There is still light within you, Adar. It may be buried deep but it shines when you are not trying so hard to snuff it out.”

With a deep exhale, he accepted her words, as difficult and satisfying as they were to hear. For so long, he had thought that he had been completely taken over by whatever darkness Morgoth had embedded into him, into his mind, his body. He was so sure that any light he once had as an elf in those long and distant ages, was gone forever. And somehow, in his weakest moment, she had seen it. She had seen him when no one else did.

“But, I need to know something,” she paused, searching for his gaze, “why did you offer for me to leave? I know what you had said but…why?”

He sighed and rested his head on hers, unable to hide from her any longer. “I was trying to spare you,” he admitted, brushing his nose across her warm cheek, “you do not deserve the burden of me.”

There were no words. No words to describe how wrong he was. She could no longer hold back and the dam broke, tears falling from her eyes as she pressed her lips to his. Holding his face, she whispered nothings between breaths and sighs that they were both gasping for, the relief of finally feeling, touching.

She pulled away for a brief moment, tucking his hair behind his ears, “you are not a burden,” repeated in a deep kiss. And another, tongues beginning to fight and taste. She was beginning to taste like the wine he had been drinking. Bold and tart. He moaned into her mouth, hands falling to her waist and pulling her closer. Chest to chest, he could no longer tell which heartbeat was his own. Her soft and tender body, melting in his arms. Her weight fell into him with a sigh. Closer. More.

Her fingers were beginning to tangle in his hair, somehow unable to pull him as close as she wanted him. Clawing at his neck, biting at his lips and she still needed more. More.

A hand travelled up her back, nails raking through her hair and he pulled, her head falling back and exposing her neck. With a sharp inhale, he bit down gently and a sudden moan filled the room, vibrating through his body. Every sense was at all once at full attention. He bit again, hearing another soft moan from her throat. He grazed his nose against her skin, up to her neck, inhaling the scent of her clean hair. His tongue swirled at her jaw, tasting what he knew to be those eglantine flowers that she bathed in, bitter yet sweet. He reluctantly pulled away, eyes searching desperately for another part of her body to touch - he ghosted his fingers across her collarbone, tracing over the delicate veins in her chest. More.

She reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his wrist and guided it lower, wanting his hands on her. He grabbed at the neckline of her dress and pulled so hard, she thought she might lose her footing.

His head crashed into hers with an exasperated groan, shaking, “I do not trust myself to stop.” He was already finding it difficult to not press himself against her body like a mad dog in heat, his cock straining against his pants and pressure building in his stomach. He knew once that line was crossed, he would not be able to restrain himself. No matter how strong he thought his will to be.

She kissed at the corner of his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled him closer, closer, so close that she could feel what he was so desperately trying to hide. “I do not wish for you to stop.”

He pulled her by her neckline, hips bumping into hers and he bit again at her lips, tongue soothing any ache they might have caused. His hands worked her chest though her dress, pulling and pushing and kneading and earning sigh after sigh from her throat. Sighs turning into moans and moans turning into pleas. He was unsure of who broke first - his fingers were beginning to wrap in the lacing of her dress and hers were pulling his shirt from the waistline of his pants. Both pawing at each other, digging through clothes as if they were trying to unearth the other from the bindings of cloth.

She pulled away for the briefest moment, catching her breath, “I trust you.”

He stopped. He stopped and felt a smile creep across his face. Trust. He kissed his grin into her cheek, holding her tightly. She trusted him. She trusted him when he did not trust himself, when he thought of himself as a wild beast. A monster unworthy of anything but animosity and loathing. She trusted him to be kind, to be gentle. To let his guard down and lay bare before her, just as he trusted her to do the same.

He kissed down her neck, leaving small and gentle marks. He placed his finger under her chin, looking deep into her eyes. He had never felt so at peace.

“Come, meleth nîn.” He took her hand, entangling his fingers in hers.

[verdantlights]

ZEN LOG: SIX

TIME: R O U N D T W E N T Y O N E

I can't breathe. It- It all happened way too fucking fast.

D-Daian... is fine! He's fine! He's alive and well, they just... took him away for... for...

"Five minutes, snap out of it. That boy won't be a hindrance to your performance. Play the game the way you're supposed to."

Fuck you, Scorpius.

They shove me in clothes that are too warm and thick to be comfortable. I'm not used to being fully covered up like this.

This is so fucking dumb- I need to find Daian. I can't do this without him. I need to find my Comet.

My arm is grabbed and I'm forcefully dragged to where I'm supposed to be.

"LET GO OF ME- GIVE DAIAN BACK TO ME!!"

"You saw the audience enjoy their meal, did you not?"

I look at the guard with abject horror.

"Sh-shut the fuck up... They didn't enjoy shit 'cause he's still fucking alive!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, mutt."

I can't fight back because before I know it, I'm on stage with Stas.

I look at them a bit frightened, knowing I probably look like shit right now.

Due to my own mental state, I can't get a read on them. It doesn't matter, I'll win and kill Kay myself.

.

.

.

This is not a game now, nobody can save you.

Spent up all your change, and now your turn is done.

We won't be afraid, 'cause we're the ones who made you.

Knock you out the frame, we won't stop until you're gone,

Game on.

.

.

.

The score goes back and forth, neck and neck. Stas is in the lead one second and I take over the next. Back and forth, back and forth. I was right in believing Stas would be wonderful competition, but I can't savor it.

All I can think about is Daian. He's alive. He has to be.

Everything is spinning. I'm dizzy as hell and I honestly want to lose just to be free from this fucking migraine, but that's just wishful thinking. I have something I want to do. I have something I need to do. I can't lose here.

I know you want to win, Stas, but I'm sorry.

I do too.

And I don't stop until I get what I want.

.

.

.

But I'ma be the face of a generation,

Kids wit' no patience or directions,

Never doubt or question my effort,

Game on, game on, hope you people ready.

I'm reloaded and my trigger finger steady.

.

.

.

Stas' song is interesting. And if it weren't for our circumstances, I'd think they want to die. I wouldn't blame them, but I know they want to win. I know they're trying to.

My dizziness and the migraine is only getting worse. This is nothing, though. I won't let my body stop me from winning. I was taught endurance. I was taught how to fight. I will fight to the very bitter end if it comes to that.

I won't go down quietly, they're gonna have to bury me face fucking down.

.

.

.

I've traveled plenty seas, spent many hours

To make myself be the best I can be,

So you gon' show respect when you talkin' to me.

That number one spot legacy I see is my hit.

And what you take, what you is, what you leave behind,

.

.

.

Here, at the last hook, I'm in the lead again. I'm pulling ahead more than I was before. I'm winning.

I'm winning.

Everything still hurts. It's getting worse. I can feel everything starting to shut down and give out. I can't pass out here. I can't, not yet.

.

.

.

This is not a game now, nobody can save you!

Spent up all your change, and now your turn is done!

We won't be afraid, 'cause we're the ones who made you.

Knock you out the frame, we won't stop until you're gone,

Game on!

Game on!

Game on!

.

.

.

My throat closes up and I feel sick. Panic is surrounding me from all sides and I can't see anything. I want to scream and cry and shout but I can't get my throat to work.

I'm angry, it hurts. I'm panicking, it hurts. I want my brothers, it hurts. I want my mother, it hurts.

A pistol is thrusted in my hands. I have to kill Stas.

I'm sorry, I'll try and be quick.

My feet are unsteady and I'm shaking. I can feel myself choking and hot tears falling down my face. I hesitate.

I hesitate.

For some reason, I see Kay. I see my brother falling into the crowd, and I scream as I shoot. It hurts, it hurts so bad. It feels like I'm tearing my vocal cords.

I miss their head. I hit their shoulder.

I shoot again.

I miss their head. I hit their thigh.

I shoot again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I missed every single fucking shot.

I'm so sorry, it's not your fault, Stas.

Through my blurry vision, I can see them laying collapsed on the floor in a pool of their own blood. They raise their hand and point at me weakly with a finger gun, before bringing it to their head and tapping. I can't see what their face looks like, but I think I know what they're feeling now, what they want.

There's a small moment of clarity where the adrenaline tunes out all other pain, noise, and emotion. I steady my hands and my stance and aim for their head, pressing the trigger.

The pistol doesn't go off.

I press the trigger again, still a dud.

I try messing with the magazine but I can feel that clarity slipping away. I can feel myself slipping away.

No, I have to at least grant them death. It's the least I can do.

Fuck no I can't pass out now, this isn't-

I can't-

I feel myself swaying, before it goes dark and I hit the ground.

━☽【❖】☾━

Oh, my Lord, take this hand, save me from the gallows.

Hear this news, bear my gold, lay me in the shallows.

Evil'll come if you call my name, the wicked day shall rise.

The river's sins gonna wash me clean, the river don't run dry.

Oh, my Lord, take this soul, lay me at the bottom of the river.

The devil has come to carry me home, lay me at the bottom, the bottom of the river.

Stas: @billwasnot

Daian: @apple8ees

Kay: @imperfectnothing

@alien-til-i-stage @ivanttakethis @chevalperd @junebluues @friedclownshrimp @awaggaa @yunoftheclouds @subzeromoron @messengers-of-the-gods @apriciticreveries @paradisedisconcert @starry-skiez @bluemoonscape

[nottivagos]

so many anons have been occupying my burrow, and it is time for me to reclaim it (i say as if i haven't been yapping with you all this time) also nothing against the anons, i love you. thank you for supporting notti ( ；∀；)

porncciardo.

he invites you over for a lazy, casual afternoon. except there is nothing casually when you're literally thirsting over this man, and he knows. he does his best to tease you without making it outright obvious. doesn't help that you're wearing the shortest dress in this casual hangout

you're both sitting on the bed, idle chatter about the reactions to one of the recent videos. you're scrolling through your phone, reading the comments, while danny has his body turn to you, actively listening.

every now and then, he places his hand on your thigh, giving a squeeze whenever a comment praises you. it's no big deal, it's danny being nice. then it's danny being really close to you, that you can feel his breath on your neck. again, no big deal. he only wants to see the screen better, right? the hand resting on your thigh starts idly roaming around. the action seems innocent enough that you don't question it when his hand goes dangerously close between your legs. his attention is glued to you and the screen, and his expression reveals nothing. him riding up your dress? it was short to begin with, and he almost thinks you've worn it on purpose.

you shift slightly, doing your best to not think about it.

but danny? oh, he's definitely doing it on purpose. he wants you needy and begging for him.

now every time you read a good comment, he murmurs close to your ear "you're such a good girl" "you did so well" and other praises while his hand roams. you're starting to feel hot, and you're sure that if danny moves his hand closer, he'll feel your damp panties.

in the end, you can't hold it in anymore and beg danny to touch you. he flashes your a grin, humming as if he's thinking "i don't know, sweetheart, looks like this might be a you problem". you whine and try to stimulate some friction by rubbing his hand but he quickly removes it, leaving you in the air. "ah, ah, you have to show me how much you need me"

and your little, horny brain can't think straight. every attempt you make to kiss him or do something with him, he pulls away or pushes you. so he decides to give you a hint by pulling the elastic of your panties. pull... and snap. the sensation adds more fuel to the fire in your core, but in that haze you manage to piece together what he wants.

or what you assume he wants.

so off goes your panties. what the hell, off goes your dress too. you look at danny, he has his signature smirk on. you drag one hand over your chest, and the other travels all the way down your dripping cunt. you spread your legs a bit and in goes one finger inside, eliciting a moan. then another finger goes in, and you start thrusting them. you keep the pace, head thrown back and your moans of his name fill the room, all while danny watches how you're fucking yourself.

you feel yourself getting close, heat pooling in your belly. you're so close.... but danny grabs your wrist and pulls you out, making you whine and chase a phantom sensation.

"what can i say?" he takes your slick covered fingers and licks them slowly "my girl knows how to show me what she wants."

he climbs on top of you, his hand roaming lower and lower until resting between your legs.

"so you know i have to reward her for being a good girl"

and he pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them while his thumb presses on your clit. until he hits the spot that has you seeing stars and you come undone... but danny isn't done when you're done.

oh no. it's only the beginning of your reward when you see him pulling down his pants and boxers, freeing his super hard cock already leaking pre-cum💕

with love, 🐇anon (who might drop another soon)

OH. OHHHHH. OH???? 🐇, HOW CAN YOU CASUALLY DROP THIS AND EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL??? i'm going insane. i need porncciardo so bad that's its not funny anymore.

[benevolenterrancy]

*glances at svsss' vol 4 worth of extras, aka 'the whump and smut pile'* you haven't seen anything yet

You guys are seriously taking an axe to my self-control;;; I'm trying to make this series last longer than a single month!! I'm trying to savour things!!! I'm trying to read something else and give the series a bit of breathing room before I pick up the last book but I want the "whump and smut pile" I want that so much I feel like a dog that's getting a treat waved in front of its face .·´¯`(；´д｀)´¯`·.

[lazylittledragon]

so uhhhhhhhh. not to be cryptic and bitchy on main but congratulations to everyone in my messages for like 5 months on being right i guess

[mishiami]

good morning tetro community

@jubileedeeznuts-posting dragged me into this because he's a dastardly awful terrible unforgivable wretch and i HATE her

[insanewaykathy]

01- “Oh, she... is my captain.” The woman beside Chakotay didn’t seem so convinced of that. “That’s it?” The woman asked sensually with curiosity. “She’s also my friend.” He smiled shyly. “Hmm... it seems more than a friend.” He couldn’t say anything at that moment. Kathryn’s figure a few meters in front of him was keeping him busy enough that he didn’t pay attention to the woman beside him. “Maybe it is... I couldn’t say. But certainly our friendship doesn’t go beyond certain limits.” “Are you talking about sex?” MY CAPTAIN https://archiveofourown.org/works/62157793

02- The dream was over. Tuvok's voice was the last thing they wanted to hear at that moment. She, who had been so committed to finding a cure from the beginning, after all that time with Chakotay, after all the losses and pain she had experienced throughout her life... Now she just wanted to stay there, in peace, waiting for Voyager to find its way home. And maybe one day they could do the same. But they would do it together. THE RESOLUTION https://archiveofourown.org/works/62085856

03- Kathryn stepped out of the shower and put on a pink silk robe that fit her perfectly. She wasn't even close to worrying about being too bold. "Chakotay... Are you there?" "Yes..." "I'm done with my shower." He moved a little shyly, not wanting to invade her space. But he didn't have time to think too much. Soon she let the robe slide off her shoulders and arms, exposing half of her back. For a moment, he didn't know what to do, the sight was too beautiful for him to concentrate. SILHOUETTE https://archiveofourown.org/works/62062366

04- "Chakotay, you don't have to be upset." "Never mind." "Seriously, I understand." "What are you going to think of me?" "These things happen..." "Not with an adult. And if you must know, I've never been through this before." "It's okay, really." "You sound like you're talking to a teenager." "Chakotay... We're friends, you know I won't mind. It's human nature." "I don't think you're going to want me to teach you how to box again..." "Oh, you really don't know me, do you? I wouldn't miss a rematch for the world." A BOXING CLASS https://archiveofourown.org/works/62002105

05- Kathryn was calmer about Chakotay. Not that she worried about his character, ever. She knew he was an honorable man, and that he would never do anything she didn't want him to do, no matter how much time passed. After he told her the ascient legend, she became thoughtful. If anyone had ever said anything more beautiful to her, she couldn't remember it. It had been more than a declaration of love. Kathryn doubted the nature of the feelings that had arisen between them. It was a fact that it hadn't started there, on that planet. She had been interested in him long before, and she knew he was too, because she was an intelligent woman who could pick up on the signals he gave. "SHE DOES HAVE YOUR LEGS." https://archiveofourown.org/works/61995592

06- A burning smell filled the air. "Daddy, Daddy..." A beautiful child, with slightly dark skin and black hair, and beautiful bright blue eyes, poked her father with her thin, delicate finger, trying to wake him up. "What's wrong, honey?" "Mommy burned the Christmas cookies." He smiled, showing adorable dimples, and the child on the edge of the bed smiled back, showing dimples in the same places as her father. "So... let's go downstairs and see what Mommy is doing." I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER https://archiveofourown.org/works/61665265

07- "Merry Christmas, Kathryn," he said simply, meaning so much more. "Merry Christmas, Chakotay," she replied sweetly. But this conversation didn't end the way either of them wanted. It was Christmas Eve, and Chakotay stopped by Kathryn's office at Starfleet to wish her a merry Christmas. And that was it... nothing more. She spent Christmas at the farm in Indiana, and he spent Christmas with Seven. But the next day, he couldn't contain himself any longer. He had been holding it in for too long. I´VE LOVED YOU FOR A LONG TIME https://archiveofourown.org/works/61653793

08- “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, but imagination encompasses the world.” - Albert Einstein. ... So this is how it all ended? Kathryn couldn't believe it, so much effort for nothing... Maybe it was deserved, maybe this was how it had to be... She didn't question her death. She accepted her fate willingly. Suddenly, the blinding light of the explosion dimmed before her eyes and all she could see was darkness. After a split second, she realized she was in a well-lit place, thrown against a solid, cold wall... and she thought it was the corridor of a ship or a space station. It was certainly a place she didn't know, but it didn't look anything like the afterlife. Not that she knew what the afterlife was like... or that she believed it, but the only thing she knew at that moment was that she was breathing. She began to walk aimlessly, apprehensive, until she heard a male voice behind her: “Kathryn...” “Do you know me?” she answered, turning around abruptly. GENESIS https://archiveofourown.org/works/60725560

09- And then he helped her remove the confetti from her hair later, after dinner, but there was a different tension in the air. He didn’t know if it was the time he’d spent with his hands in her hair trying to pull out those damn confetti pieces, or if it was the sensual glances she’d thrown at him throughout dinner, but he was starting to think that the strawberry pie with cream she’d just served him would taste much more delicious on her body… DESSERT https://archiveofourown.org/works/60048898

10- "Am I interrupting?" "No, not at all... Welcome to the Master's refuge," she said with a smile. "You really like those non-contemporary scientists..." "Yes... I'm thinking about reviving Galileo, Giordano Bruno, Einstein, Sir Isaac Newton... Maybe Oppenheimer... I find him an intriguing man, I have many questions to ask..." He smiled. "That would take quite some time..." "As far as we know, we have time, Chakotay, and 'quite some time' would be an understatement," she said with sadness. THE MASTER´S REFUGE https://archiveofourown.org/works/59764324

@ebonysolcum Thanks for tagging me ❤️ I don't know 10 people to tag, so here are some that I know write fanfics. Some have already been tagged, but I'm going to tag you anyway because I appreciate your work. (Feel free to repost or not 🥰) @bizships @flappielxx123 @ebonysolcum @xchronicles

Tagged by @phoenixflames12. Thank you, friend!

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tags ten people. If you have written less than ten, don't be shy and share anyway!

(*since several of mine are ficlet/one shot collections, I'll be cheating on those and giving the first line of the most recent addition)

1. Maxwell Yi hadn't been back to Mars in over a year. He hadn’t meant to be gone so long, but it seemed like new transport routes were being opened up every week, and work had been plentiful for any pilot with steady hands and two braincells to rub together. Things were good, and about to get better. But since he was back on Mars, he did what any right-thinking person would; the instant he set foot in Utopia Colony, he headed straight to an unremarkable storefront restaurant. It didn’t have a sign, but it didn’t need one. (Far From the Sun)

2. Karveth and Monica sat on one of the richly upholstered couches of the mur'thay's domed skywatching gallery, tucked under a heavy blanket, deep in one another's arms. (Your Body in Electric Blue*)

3. Monica had taken the long way home, because she had to stop at Woodhall's Bakery, where she had gotten a half dozen lemon curd cupcakes. They weren't her favorite (she preferred chocolate), but Karveth loved citrus. (Striking Sparks*)

4. Karveth stretched, smiling to himself at the sensation of the soft body beside his. Monica still slept, and snuggling up against her and luxuriating in her warmth sounded like one of the better ideas he'd had lately, and he frequently had excellent ideas, if he said so himself. (Six Kisses)

5. It was that quiet hour right before the first day shift went on duty. Phlox liked this part of the ship's day/night cycle – it was peaceful, and a good time to feed the twice-daily eaters in the menagerie. That was the chore he was engrossed with when he heard the door open. (Doctor/Patient Confidentiality)

6. They were walking along the corridor, headed roughly in the same direction, and for the space of one step, their shoulders almost brushed. The thought crossed Trip's mind that T'Pol's personal space could be awfully… fluid, for a Vulcan, but just as quickly, he laughed it off. He definitely needed to get some sleep if he was thinking things like that. (Scrapbook*)

7. Everything felt so much smaller now from inside a starship. But Jhamel found that didn’t surprise her. (No Going Back)

8. The sun was setting over Xpu Há, sinking behind the inland mountains, turning the water that lapped at the shore a dark red gold. Trip and T'Pol sat on the patio of their little rented beach cottage, and he watched her watch the sea. (Every Version of Us)

9. Admiral Jonathan Archer approached the apartment door, situated on the corner of an unassuming block just off the main tramline to Starfleet Headquarters. It was a good location, and it was a shame Trip and T'Pol wouldn’t be here much longer, because he would miss having them so close. (Walking the Floor)

10. ‘Vulcans don't lie’, was, in itself, a lie. (Honesty and Its Opposite)

Tagging @deadheaddaisy, @pearlypairings, @1lostsoul0fishbowl, @talshiargirlfriend, @mytardisisparked, @gaitwae and anybody else who wants to pay!

[solanj]

sometimes in the fandom you see some art that is SO beautifully made but goes SO against the grain of how you perceive the drawn character(s) like I want to reblog it so much because it's so visually gorgeous and the artist is amazing and deserves to know this but I'll fucking die before letting that particular interpretation of the character(s) anywhere near my blog

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle