#lilacs writing

[lilacs-echoing]

can you write a little one shot of Jack going to therapy please 🙏 (begging on the floor rn)

hi this is my first time writing jack which is actually a lil hard because even tho he is witewawwy me i rarely act this disrespectful to therapists.

its only 450 words thank yewww vvvv

The therapy office walls are truly offensive this time around. I glance downward at my hands; sunburnt, peeling, stained. Any longer in this sterile room and I’ll start to pick at them. If only I’d known fame comes with dirt under your fingernails. 

The door opens up and in comes today’s doctor. Blonde headed and taller. Eyes a horrible, seafoam blue.

“Jack, is it?”

“Merridew,” I make sure my voice is sharp enough to command, like a knife. “My name is Merridew.” As he’s settling in, I take a glance at his clipboard. He makes one sharp strike through my first name at the top of the page. The satisfaction settles in slightly. There is a drop of brown at his collar, still wet.

“I hear you were one of the boys-”

“If you want me to talk, make sure you’re presentable first.” I jab my index finger out towards his collar. He glances down, dumbfounded. The man looks back at me, then at the tissue box on the table.

“My apologies… Merridew. I was on my lunch break.” The defeat in his voice is almost palpable as he dabs at the stain. I nod silently, avoiding his gaze. “As I was saying, I’ve been informed you were one of the rescues from that…” He gesticulated, searching for a word. “Plane crash.”

I pick some grime out from under my nails. “I played a big part in that rescue. My fire got us found.” I can even sense the irritation in my voice. Why spend time on small talk?

“The forest fire?” He takes a bored sip from his coffee cup. Now, I can feel my blood boiling against my ashy skin. 

“Why, it did the job, didn’t it?” My voice rises into a shout. How dare he look down on me? When I saved the rest of the pathetic whelps, when I was the one who created order, when I was the hunter?

Again his pen moves, making gentle strokes on his paper. He pauses for a moment, setting down the clipboard and folding his hands together slowly. I can feel those horrible blue eyes burning into me. Before he speaks, I am asserting myself once more.

“I’m not telling you anything. I’m leaving.”

He opens his mouth, his lips moving slowly to form words. “By all means, Merridew, if you are dissatisfied with my care-”“I’m dissatisfied with you.” My time is better spent elsewhere. I rise from the seat, pushing his coffee cup off the table. It makes a shrill sliding sound and falls to a satisfying crash. The coffee pools outward to touch my shoe; I have already rejected its warmth on my way to the door.

[lilacgaby]

katsuki was red-faced and drunk as hell.

he could barely keep himself up straight, leaning against the wall of the curb that he sat on as midoriya waved to you. "thanks for coming, he wouldn't stop asking for you."

"don't talk about me like that.. damn nerd." katsuki slurred, pointing a threatening finger. in the wrong direction. midoriya laughed quietly, signaling goodbye to you as he took his leave.

"kat," you started, smiling at the pink flush of his cheeks, trying to place a coddling hand on his face but were stopped by him smacking your hand away. "what was that for?!"

"don't touch me! 'got my girl at home." he glared at you from the side, then shut his eyes and turned his face away with a small 'hmmph.'

you laughed, crossing your arms as you decided to play along. "really? but aren't i prettier?" he scoffed, red eyes not even bothering to look at you as he quipped, "fuck no. 's not even a competition. you'll be embarrassed you even-," he hiccuped, "said that shit when she gets here."

you gasp in mock offense, leaning down with a hand over your chest. "that's so rude! are you sure you don't wanna take a closer look?"

"get out of my--" his glazed eyes opened to glare at you once again, but his words got stuck in his throat as he looked you over. your streetlit features took a second to register in his mind, before a small, closed eye smile came over his face. "hey.. babe you got here." he said lowly after a moment. he grabbed one of your hands and held it up to his face, "missed 'ya. some fuckin' idiot was here earlier. so annoying."

"oh yeah? what'd they say?"

"i don't even remember." he started to fall asleep, but you hurriedly helped him up to the car first. he started sleepily muttering things to you as you buckled him in. "y'know you're the damn prettiest.. and the sweetest thing i've known.."

compared to how he was normally, he just wouldn't stop talking. not like you minded though, it was really feeding your ego to have him call you things like the most beautiful girl in the world.

as you helped him to bed, helping him change out of the clothes he'd wore in the bar first, you were cut off by him pulling you into bed beside him, caging you in his arms as he put his head on top of yours.

"stay." is all he said before he knocked out. but you did stay, not like you could've ran away from the tightened arms around you anyways.

tags. @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans

[itslilacokay]

nahhh bro 💀💀💀💀

[liliewrites]

"IN THE HEARTHFIRE'S EMBRACE"

a/n ; HALLOO:DD so, here's the first part of the "let the world burn" series inspired by the song of the same name from chris grey. more women will be added to the list as i go, so feel free to drop some suggestions which genshin women you think would be a great addition to the series. anywaay, thanks for readingg:))

-warning/s ; a bit of descriptive violence, mentions of blood and burning but not directed at the reader. -pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem!reader.

where in ; these women would go against every person in teyvat-- would even watch teyvat burn, all for your sake.

(men please dni utc!)

“Lynette, whatever happens, keep your mother safe.”

The words rang in the little girl’s ears repeatedly as she held the older woman’s hands. They were not related by blood in any way, but this woman had taken care of her, raised her and nurtured her for as long as she could remember. So she keeps her father’s words, and protects the woman with what she has.

“There they are! The wife of the Knave!!”

With an annoyed curse beneath a whisper, Lynette grabs onto your hand tightly, pulling you to run away as the spies have found you in your hiding spot. Tired, panting and breathless- your legs felt like it was about to give out, but thanks to the adrenaline spiking through your body, you just kept running, and running, and then finding yourself driven in a corner with nowhere to escape as the spies had surrounded you from all sides.

Despite being struck with fear, your motherly instincts came first as you held your precious daughter in your arms, wanting to protect her more than wanting to be protected by her.

“Mother, I can… I can handle this!” Lynette exclaimed, but you knew better, it was two against half a dozen grown men and only Lynette was capable of fighting out of the two of you but her alone would not be enough to face them. “My child, settle down, I'd rather die than witness you slain in front of me. Let me protect you, so hush.” 

You whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes as immense fear ran through your veins. You closed your eyes shut to brace yourself for impact, heart filled with dread as one of the men neared you with a blade of his own. He let out a sickly chuckle at your demise, the wife of the Knave’s to be precise, then raising his arm up to—

“Fucking imbeciles.”

—to fall in front of you beheaded, with warm and thick blood splattered against you and the child in your arms. You opened your eyes to look up but you already knew who it was and to your horrific relief, it was your wife covered in blood who stood menacingly in the background. Her hand letting go of her scythe that she earlier held with a grip so tight, her hands trembled while she slayed the wretched men in blinded fury then she started to slowly walk towards you.

You gasped at the sight and immediately covered Lynette's eyes as she was no more than just a child who although you knew was no stranger to this kind of scenery, you still wanted to shield her from the gruesome sight. Nonetheless, still, you felt glee to see your wife.

As for said wife, Arlecchino’s chest was heaving in pure, unfiltered wrath and with no remorse stepped upon the men’s lifeless bodies in a rather harsh manner. Her sharp, pointed heels stabbed itself into the flesh as she made her way towards you through the fire she had caused in the midst of tearing the men apart just a few moments ago.

— but as soon as she reached you, the look in her eyes softened and all hostility she held had instantly melted away. Replaced by a vulnerable and fragile display of guilt and fear as the apathetic mask she’d mastered to put on for years straight had cracked for a brief moment out of fear for you. “My beloved, I am deeply sorry for arriving so late...” she apologized and her tone sounded so different than how she insulted the man who almost killed you. She gently pulled you up into her arms and held you and her daughter with a relieved sigh. 

“I didn't realize that a few had escaped and chased after you, my beloved. I am terribly, terribly sorry for making such a horrible mistake.” Her voice was shaky and you knew that behind the tough exterior she tried to put on, her heart was broken beyond a million pieces at the thought of almost losing you. 

“My dear, it is alright. Lynette kept me safe, and we are alive.” You tried to reassure her, but at the moment you had mentioned the word “alive”, the intense emotions kicked in as she was reminded of the fact that if she arrived just even a second late, you and her daughter would’ve been dead along with the men that lay on the ground. The raging embers of fury ignited once more, so she separated for a moment to summon countless burning crimson blades in thin air one after another, embedding it into the lifeless bodies that lay on the ground. After her little outburst, she looked at the burning men with a glare and held you tightly to keep you safe and secure to provide you solace, amidst the burning chaos of flames that surrounded all three of you.

“My beloved, if you were to die at the hands of such crooked men, tainted and ruined, I could never find it in my heart to watch the world prosper without you as it’d have no meaning at all.”

She spoke with such conviction that it felt like a comforting flame that soothed the fear in your heart but to those who dare lay a finger on you, this served as a threat as this same woman who held you and your child with such a gentle hold and looked at you with tender eyes swearing that she would be capable of attempting to kill the Tsaritsa with her bare hands in a heartbeat— if it meant protecting you.

There is no sane bone in her body, that was indeed a fact, but if you were to be taken away from her then she’d be willing to watch the world go poof, drowned in the flames of her agony of your loss if it were to ever happen.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lilac

a/n: ...yes i did spend about an hour in procreate trying to change the sign on the right photo to say lilac and not the name it originally said... welp. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't an overachiever.

summary: moving back home to the family-run inn isn't exactly what you had expected, especially not with the mysterious lumberjack that now calls the quaint little town of Dunbrook his home as well...

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, running an inn in a tiny rural town, explicit sexual content, violence, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, pete castiglione era, total word count is 51k

masterlist | join my taglist | series playlist

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

A SUMMER IN DUNBROOK

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[lilaccatholic]

Okay you need to explain the mafia thing without incriminating your family

Oh I so don't care about incriminating anyone lol everyone is either dead or the statute of limitations have passed. Family lore for a long time was that my great-grandfather came over from Italy just before World War I, met my great-grandmother, and raised a ton of kids on a farm.

Yeah, not what happened lol.

Turns out, he was *sent* over here by the mob (though the timeline was correct—it was still 1913 lol), got shoved into an arranged marriage (with a bride who was, oh, about 14 at the time and had her first child at 16), still had a ton of kids, and basically terrorized his little corner of the world so completely that the police force in the area where he lived was so in his pocket that they had to run new hires by him. His sons and cousins got involved in the, er, *family business*, and some of their sons did, too. My grandma's sister had an arranged marriage as well to the son of a mobster they were close to, and most of her brothers were involved in the mob, but God bless my firebrand of a grandmother who refused to marry someone she didn't know and snatched herself a former Coast Guardsman turned Ford plant manager and buzzed all the way off to Michigan. She put the literal fear of God in these people and demanded that they not only get rid of their more occult superstitions, but doggedly kept after her father until he repented of his past. She practically forced him to stay alive after he had a stroke until he got himself to confession. Somehow this woman survived being born premature in 1934 and decided to make it everyone else's problem until she got called home to glory in 2021. I miss her every day.

As for the rest of the family, there are probably some cousins still in Italy who are still "in", but everyone in the US has either died or left the business—in part because of said grandmother's crusading. As many of my fellow Italian-Americans know, there's nothing quite as terrifying as a tiny old woman with a rolling pin. She took after her mother in that way. Her mother, who had the unabashed temerity to tell her mafia boss husband that she had no intention of listening to him when he told her not to help nurse the sick during the Spanish Flu, and who used her husband’s ill-gotten gains to feed people during the Great Depression. She raised seven children to adulthood, lost a few others, and was basically such a force of nature that even 35 years after her death, she's still remembered with adoration as a great cook and helluva woman by all who knew her. I'm named for her and my grandmother—albeit the anglicized versions of their names—and somehow she managed to reach through time and give me her face. So, in a very special way, I carry these two incredible women with me at all times.

I'm highlighting these two women in particular instead of all the sordid mafia details for a reason. Oh, I could tell you about the wire taps and the FBI files, the people killed, the drugs and liquor they ran, how my grandmother's sister had terrors about a field where the bodies were buried when she was dying of Alzheimer's. We're mentioned on podcasts and in forums of crime junkies, and yeah, some of the people we knew were probably the inspiration for some of your favorite mafia films. But the truth of it at the end of the day is this: they destroyed people. They used crime and terror to ruin lives, and left behind a legacy of trauma and despair. But my grandmother who did everything she could to get the family out? Who prayed about the evil that had been done in her family's name until her death? My great-grandmother, who made the best of a horrible situation and tried to do good with the hand she'd been dealt? Who opened restaurants and fed the homeless? Man, they're stars to me. Not perfect in any way, but they took steps forward that helped end centuries of a bloody family legacy.

And, well, I'm pretty darn glad they did.

[squidpedia]

edgar degas’ waiting 1880-1882 but its lilac and jade fuck you

[polnywumik]

"and then finally take root and grow into a wild garden the floral sweetness of his blood fresh lilacs and roses almost nauseating with just how sweet they are"

A Mouthwashing fic no alarms and no suprises by @stupidcanofpeaches that has been on my mind for the past few months. Believe me when I say no fanfiction has ever made me sick to my stomach as much as this one. Truely a piece of stellar writing.

Heed the warning, trough: the mature label is there for a reason.

[mammoth-clangen]

im glad I'm not the only one picky with names, I'm always like "no they wouldn't know what that is" etc with warrior cats. like Dragonfly sounds cool sure, but it's two words in one (it's like a double prefix to me) plus Dragon is something humans made up (unless they're a kittypet then I'm the total opposite and thrilled with the name Dragonfly as a cat)

I feel that with dragonflies! It's so hard with examples like that with no easy alternative name though; what would they call dragonflies instead? 😔

But Honestly?? I don't think it's a bad thing to be picky with names specifically.

Nothing takes me out of xenofiction worldbuilding faster than completely incomprehensible naming schemes!* E.g. a polar bear called Toucan (or an Amazon parrot named Glacier), animals named after cryptids/beings from human mythology they wouldn't know, or wild animals with really common human names: Steve the otter, Margaret the antelope, David the fairy wren... (animals named by humans being an exception).

That's also why I refuse to call any of the Machairodontids "sabertooths" in universe: that's a sword. Even if they could know what a sword was, sabres won't be invented for some ~10,000 years :'D

Lilac only escaped because of the colour! (And in hindsight I would have changed it outright.)

But it's fine because his family had a sort of "named in relation to where/ what was happening around your birth" scheme. Lilac was born in the purple of pre-dawn and probably would have taken the Holdfast name "Lilacdawn" or "Lilacsky" if not for Other Happenings in his first year of life...

*As always, obligatory disclaimer that no one has to listen to me bc I'm not an authority on things. I just personally like when names are based on things the animals in question could feasibly know and comprehend well enough to be named after!

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Moment in Needlework

Summary: Remember how once we were. A moment. Remember?

Ao3 version

Enjoy!

Inside the eerie abandoned ruin home he was temporarily residing in, the count was sitting in a chair in the corner of a dark room, his concentration deep as he appeared to be stitching the sides of what looked like a small stuffed wolf.

His disease-ridden rodents, who usually scampered around him, spreading the plague, were sleeping peacefully together in piles in the room, with two piles near his feet.

No magic was employed during the creation of the plush, which was made entirely by hand from patterning, cutting, stitching, and stuffing.

While meticulously working with the needle and thread, Orlok was careful not to prick any of his long fingers, and an almost rare smile crossed his face.

He seemed to be reminiscing on a moment.

A favorable one that has stayed with him for centuries.

She would have been beside him throughout the needlework process, watching him with encouraging eyes and a smile while occasionally guiding him and helping him fix any sewing mistakes he made.

Remember how once we were. A moment. Remember?

...

"Liev, my love, come quick!"

After hearing his beloved wife's call, Liev opened the door of the baby room.

The cream-colored nursery had a small crib with delicate sheets draped over the sides of it along with little decorations and a hearth to keep the baby warm during cold nights.

Liev gazed at his soulmate rocking gently in the room's rocking chair as their pet husky slept at her feet.

She looked to be concealing a surprise behind her back, and as her brown eyes connected with his green ones, a smile crossed his face, a flutter in his chest.

Elena's hair was tailbone length and copper-colored, with a small black mole above her lip.

"What is it, dragul meu?" asked Liev as he walked towards the rocking chair.

Elena's smile was fully formed as she brought forth her right hand from behind her back, revealing a small brown stuffed bear with button eyes and an innocent embroidered smile.

"I made him for our child," she softly stated, placing the bear in her husband's hand.

After turning his gentle gaze to the toy, Liev began slowly combing its fur with the back of his thumb.

The craftsmanship of his wife was impeccable, and the bear was evidently made with a great deal of care and love.

"Isn't he just adorable?" Elena asked with a giggle.

"I think you should make one too, Liev. I feel our child would be very appreciative of such a gift from their tată."

"I would love to, dragul meu, but you are aware of my busy schedule." Still smiling, Liev kissed her cheek.

"It'll only take a few minutes," Elena pleaded in a cheery tone. "Can you not spare some time from your countly duties for your child? For me? Please, Liev?"

As soon as the count witnessed puppy dog eyes being pulled out by both his wife, as well as his husky who had just woken up from his nap, he knew he was outnumbered.

He soon sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated, playful manner.

"Very well then." Liev kissed her knuckles softly.

A happy expression shined on the husky's face as he opened his mouth, wagging his tail excitedly.

Placing hands on Liev's cheeks, Elena began to gently caress his face, leaning in to give a quick, soft kiss to his lips.

"Thank you."

A warm feeling stirred in both their stomachs.

...

"... Tell me again why I can't just use my magic to create this toy for our child, Elena?" Liev asked his wife with an irksome sigh as he turned to look at her.

He was now the one seated in the rocking chair, with a needle and thread in one hand, and a plush that appeared to be a husky but resembled a wolf more with an open tummy of stuffing in his other hand.

The fact that he had pricked his hand so many times with the needle caused him to have an irritated tone.

"It diminishes the enjoyment of doing it by hand, my love," Elena told him.

"But the needle persists in poking my hand."

"That's because you're not properly closing the opening. Here, let me help you," Elena offered as she placed her hands over Liev's.

"You do it like this," she gently instructed, guiding her husband's hands to slowly sew the tummy of the husky wolf.

Elena proceeded to smile, and so did her husky when he took a look at the finished toy.

He let out a bark, and Elena nodded her head at the canine. "Yes, he does look like you!" she agreed with a giggle before focusing on her husband.

Her gaze softened, and so did her voice.

"Our child will be greatly touched by this special gift, Liev," she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, smiling.

Liev nodded, a soft smile forming on his face. "Yes, they will."

...

The sides of the stuffed wolf were finally stitched, but as Orlok stared at it fixedly, he observed how sad the toy appeared even though it had a smile on its face.

This caused the count's rare smile to slowly fade, it being replaced with a look of pain, which reached to his chest.

Although sewing brought back good memories of Elena, it also brought back painful ones.

Ones of her death due to the plague.

Ones of his child never being born and experiencing death rather than life while inside their mother's stomach.

The pain in Orlok's chest grew more intense.

He still to this day couldn't help but blame himself for their deaths.

If only he had...

"Îmi pare atât de rău iubiera mea...," he whispered softly.

[lilacs-stars]

wait okay I haven't seen anyone talk about this yet (and I'm really sorry if this has been brought up before, to my knowledge it hasn't, but obviously I haven't seen every single post ever), during "perfect revenge" when they first go into the dead fish layer thing whatever, and around the time where uliana says "find that perfect, perfect revenge"

HADES LITERALLY GRABS ONTO MORGIE'S SHOULDERS AND DOES A LIL JUMP?? AND HE'S SMILING AND HE SEEMS SO HAPPY HE JUST DOES A JUMP LIKE

it's soo cute 😭 honestly in my opinion it feels super out of character for him, idk why it was even included but like maybe it shows a part of hades that's super bubbly, which he tries to mask with his apathetic, uninterested demeanor?

but the way he jumped on morgie's shoulders in particular, makes me wonder more about their dynamic? like is it because morgie's so bubbly that hades is like that around him too? and the way that morgie was quick to agree to hades's "yeah let's burn her to a crisp" makes me wish we got to see more of them. like imagine hades always acting so tough and unconcerned around maleficent, but finally letting loose and being super excited and happy when he hangs out with morgie.

anyways just a thought, I figured it would be nice to point it out and see what you guys think about it. that's all for now! :))

(also now I can't get the idea out of my head where hades is being all chill to maleficent like "yo imma go hang out with morgie" and she's like "okay whatever" and then cut to hades hanging out with morgie where they're both squealing and jumping up and down like a pair of teenage girls while one of them spills the tea 😭 I'm sorry I can't this is too funny 💀 I actually need a fic about this like this is some top-notch villain behavior fr)

[lilacgaby]

title: death is inevitable, but why you?

pairings: katsuki x reader, midoriya x reader, todoroki x reader

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

notes: tw: death! blood! violence! angst no comfort! i warned you!

katsuki bakugō❥

this mission had been the most horrific one for ages. left and right people were being lifted out in body bags, rubble covered the corpses of many scattered across the field, even heroes had lost limbs in the fight.

the stench of blood was everywhere. the shimmering of the sun unfit for the splatters all around.

he wasn't faring any better, his hands torn from quirk overexertion, his ears hurting from the loud explosions. no, that wasn't it.

the screams of the people he couldn't save rang through his head, the crushing of bones and flesh emgrained in his mind forever.

he was walking now. to say it was mindlessly would be a lie, no. he was looking for you.

he hadn't seen you since this all started. he'd texted and called you but you hadn't picked up. he felt guilty for walking past the sobbing civilians picking up their loved ones, or whatever remained of them at least.

he picked up his pace at the sight. where were you? why were you doing this now? now when his heart was straining with disgust, now when his mouth was holding back the bile that rised to the back of his throat, now when his mind was running with things he'd never want to consider happening to you.

he finally saw you, kirishima right next to you as you laid on a wall. he let out a sigh of relief, as he slowed down his pace.

as he got closer, kirishima covered your body from his sight, confusing him. "move."

"no. turn around."

"what's your deal? move!"

"i don't want you to see this, and she wouldn't have either, so please--"

"stop talking like she's dead!" he yelled, his heart in his throat as he pushed past kirishima. but he wished he listened at the sight before him.

you were slumped over, eyes wide open with fear, yet blank and unblinking. your mouth had strings of blood, some clotted up already showing how far gone you were.

your shirt was damp with not only blood but tears, the puffiness around your eyes signifying it. your hands were bruised badly and it looked like a part of your midsection was gouged out.

he fell onto his knees beside you, his hand shakily trying to close your eyes, to at least give you that final peace.

but he failed even at that. what kind of boyfriend was he? his hands shook with hopelessness and fear. he failed. he failed and you died a horrifying death alone.

what could he do without you? what was he supposed to do now?

he let out a guttural yell of pain, as he shook over your body. he didn't want to believe it. but as kirishima handed him a ring and your favorite hair pin that you, before you died, left for him,

he was left with the finality of your death.

and he was all alone once again.

izuku midoriya𑁍

it wasn't supposed to have ended like this.

he should've known that the fame from his hero antics would back fire one day, he should've been ready, he should've been there. he should've been prepared.

he should've been more cautious, taken more warnings from the stories he'd pay no mind to. he never thought this would happen to him.

he shouldn't be here, attempting to comfort you with shaky hands as you lay in his lap, bleeding out from where you were stabbed in the chest. he doesn't know of a place where you weren't stabbed though.

your dress now ruined and torn as the madman earlier had managed to get a hold of you, his promises of money meant nothing to him as he slit wound after wound into your skin.

he shouldn't have to hopelessly pray that the small ministrations he'd been doing to your face were helping relieve the pain, even though he knew it wasn't.

if he'd known the date he'd planned for you would end like this he would've never let you outside again, selfishly hiding you from the world. if he'd known he could've have taken the blow himself, if he'd have known-

his words were cut off by his very own gasp at the visual of you looking into his eyes. you reached your clean hand up to his face, running your unbloddied fingers over his freckles. wiping his tears.

you couldn't speak, though you were trying to. he was radio silent now, hoping to hear anything from you. you were still clutching the knife in your chest, your other hand right over the hilt.

he didn't feel right to ask you to stay awake, to stay in pain just for him. it was all his fault. always his fault, always something he didn't do right.

"i..izuku. 's not your fault, stop.. stop thinking that." your face was scrunched up in pain, it was obvious that it hurt you to speak. it hurt you to do anything, what was he kidding?

you always read him clear as day, or was he really that predictable? he put his hand on top of yours anyways, wanting to bask in this undeserved affection. he took your words to heart though, to say it was his fault was now an action of dissmissing your final thoughts, thoughts you'd dedicated just to him.

"i.. i love you. 'k?"

he nodded, he said it back to you. he'd say it a million times if it meant you'd stay for just a second longer. if it'd meant that you'd stay with him.

he bent down so you could kiss him one last time. it was the saddest kiss he'd ever have, he never thought he'd know when his last moment of affection was coming from you.

but he did, and as he came back up, your hand had dropped from his face, onto the blood stained ground.

he held you, he held you until your shallow breaths became no more, he held you until your body had gone cold,

he held you until his once white shirt had turned red from your blood.

he'd hold you until someone forced him to let you go.

it's what you deserved.

shoto todoroki✩

he always knew your presence in his life was too good for him.

fate had a funny way of messing with him. everything good in his life had a price, a price he'd pay willingly or not.

getting married to you must've been the best thing he'd ever done. but the price?

your left half being completely destroyed, just like his.

and the worst part? you were still awake, your breath heavy and pained as you collapsed onto the ground.

your flesh was mangled, the wounds reaching all the way up to your neck. you looked to be in so much pain, your tears only making it worse it seemed, as you let out a scream as you raised your hand, the only one you had left, to try and soothe yourself.

the destination of your honeymoon a haunting background to the death that was overtaking you.

shoto had never felt so useless. he'd never been the best at comforting you, only his presence serving to help. but now as you screamt in utter torment in front of him, he could do nothing but fall onto his knees infront of you.

the water from your tears burned your open wound, so he used his ice on your right to try and help you.

"is this helping?" he said, when you finally started to go silent. your eyes started to open and close, you were forcing yourself awake. why?

"mhm." he knew it was a white lie, to try and make him feel better about himself. but he decided to believe it, just this once.

you stared at his arm blankly. it took a lot of effort to word anything, to even stay up straight was a marvel in itself. you muttered, "is help coming?"

he wanted to be honest with you, he really did, but he didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if he told you nobody could make it in time. so, he told a partial lie. he hoped you could forgive him in another life. one where you'd get to live the life you always wanted.

"y-yes. someone's coming soon." he saw the way your eye lit up slightly with determination. why were you fighting so hard.

three minutes passed and nothing had happened. your eye was getting heavier, the blood was coming out in less and less spurts. your face became dejected.

he knew you caught him in a lie. they weren't coming to save you, only to pick up your corpse.

a bitter smile set over your lips, the throbbing of your skin under your tears a blur as you finally gave up. he had been holding your hand tightly this entire time, his hand over the pulse of your wrist as he refused to look you in the eye.

and now you knew why.

"i.. i love you shoto..

b-but don't lie to me next time, k?" you proclaimed, before falling over with a sickening thud as you hit the bloodied planks beneath you.

he stayed holding your hand for a while. the heroes hadn't made it for another hour. he was glad for the only reason of being able to scream and wail over you in peace. of being able to let all his built up emotions out,

of being able to mourn the loss of his one true love, who even in the end did her best to comfort him instead. who toughed it out for him.

"what a joke." he muttered as he stormed away from your body, leaving the heroes circled around your cold corpse.

plans to get back your honor brewing in his head.

[flowers-and-dndoc]

Okay this is *technically* not writing but I want this one to show up in the tags so. Please appreciate my crocheted Doctor and Rogue dolls that I have worked on making for the past 2 months

They have little magnets in their little crocheted hands so that they can hold hands :)

The base pattern for both of them was furifuri amiguri’s Mr. Darcy pattern, although I did make some modifications for each character (most notably the hair).

[liliewrites]

"MY SALVATION."

a/n : hi, so.. uhm, after a long hiatus lmao, i've finally decided to return and stay for good. yay! so this will be a part of a series titled "you who i worship, before you i kneel." which is a three part series featuring arlecchino, raiden ei and furina!:) all of which are NSFW. i'll be posting regularly every week during fridays!! thanks a bunch for reading.

-warning/s ; NSFW (mdni), transfem! arlecchino, maybe ooc?

-pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem! reader (men dni) - where in; these three women worship you, their lover, when hundreds and thousands, even millions of followers would drop on their knees to ask for blessings, for mercy, for prayers - and yet for you, at your beck and call, they would do anything you ask as they kneel for you at the same time , as proof of their devotion to you.

”my l-lord, i didn’t mean to-”

”silence, and shut your mouth. you imbecile.” the knave’s unforgiving tone had shut the fatui agent’s mouth, and a blade had been shot on the ground, just a few millimeters where the agent kneeled in front of her for mercy. it was a warning shot, no- a message telling that agent how badly they fucked up for even letting those treasure hoarders lay a single finger on you.

”incompetent, useless, even my children could do better than you. i made a mistake by entrusting my wife’s safety to you.”

the knave spat once more, turning her back on the agent, and the agent started to beg. he knew, that this could be his final moments as she started to walk away. “lyney, take him away. i shall go see your mother.” she ordered, and her orders were absolute. lyney had taken away the agent, to who knows where, and his cries echoed into the hallway- until they were no more.

arlecchino had walked in the chambers she shared with her wife, and on their bed, her beloved lay. at the sound of the door opening, you immediately sat up to greet your wife with a smile and were about to stand up, but she looked at you with a stare which told you not to, so you stay still on the edge of the bed. “my beloved, what is the matter?” you ask with a tired and worried sigh.

the knave kneels in front of you, gently laying her cheek on your lap.

this was a clear sign to you that your beloved had been troubled and you took it as a cue to start running your hands through her hair, undoing the braids and comforting her with your touch. “my beloved, i was worried..” she murmured, confiding her emotions to you, her most trusted confidante. she raised her head up to meet your eyes, and there, you saw her eyes filled with care, with worry, eyes that she’d never show to anyone else other than you. hell, you were sure that no one else knew or even thought that the knave was capable of even looking like this.

”my beloved, if anything were to happen to you..”

now it was her turn to touch you, her hand reaching up to caress your cheek— softly, gently, complete juxtapose to her intimdating appearance.“i could never forgive myself, my beloved..” she continued, now getting up to meet your lips with hers. oh, how she longed for you— she would always long for you, and how scared she was that she’d never get to do this again. to feel your warmth, the subtle sighs that left your lips, as the kiss slowly became more and more heated, fueled with more fervor, and she had gently pushed you down on the soft bed. her hands ran down your smooth skin, which were much different to her much rougher and bigger hands, and she spread kisses on your neck. “my goddess, my beloved.. oh how i’ve missed you.” she admitted, licking on your skin, craving to taste you. she kept chanting “my beloved” again and again like a prayer against your skin, and her hand trailed down, lower, and lower.

until your breath hitched.

”a-arlecchino, slowly.. please..” you begged, and your orders were absolute. arlecchino wanted to disobey, to ruin you, to rut into you with reckless abandon, but no, your words were her calling. she gently eased a finger in, then looking at you. “is this to your liking, my beloved?” she asked, and your nod gave her a positive sign that she was doing well. slowly, but surely, her finger felt every single corner of your insides, causing you to moan and cry, due to pleasure at first, but then it turned to one of need. it was her cue to start adding another in all while increasing the pace, and you let out a cry, she gently hushed you with a kiss and you looked at her with eyes filled with tears. “my beloved, are you okay?” she asked, and you nodded, unable to answer. her fingers felt so damn good. “then shall i take it that i can lead for tonight, my beloved?” she asked, and you nodded once more.

she got up, kneeling on top of you as she started undoing her clothes with haste as she took in your beauty, the breathtaking sight of her goddess under her, and she strongly believed that no sight in teyvat could rival this. as soon as all the pesky fabric was peeled away, the tip of her dick had prodded at the entrance of your folds, and no more than a little while— were you moaning and crying her name. asking her for more, to go harder, to go faster, and who was she to deny her beloved’s wishes and demands?

the knave’s loyalty does not lay itself to snezhnaya’s archon, no, for it belongs to her beloved. she lives to please you, to make love to you in more ways than one, to nourish life within the house of hearth with you as it was your wish.

arlecchino had let herself free from all the restraint that had been holding her back, her hips raised at a certain angle where it'd hit the spot she knew would drive you crazy. her lips pressing against the most sensitives spots of your skin, painting it with subtle marks that ignited a possessive ember within her chest. you were as much as hers, as much as she was yours. nothing could change that-- and arlecchino made sure of it.

with one loud groan and a sharp thrust, you felt her warmth flooding your insides. arlecchino slowly leaned in to press a soft kiss against your cheek, panting and breathless, with a gentle smile. tonight was a living memory, one of the many testimonies of her devotion for you, and the tsarita be damned. she lives for you, she serves you, and she would die for you. to her, you were her world. her goddess. her beloved.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

august

a summer in dunbrook, part three

a/n: and to close it all off, let them have a horny camping trip. it's what they deserve.

summary: once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, camping, roasting marshmallows, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, oral, manhandling, hair pulling, impact play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3121

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist 

masterlist | join my taglist

“All I’m saying is that maybe we wait just one more day before we go home,” Frank said as he slammed the car door shut behind him. 

Readjusting your grip on Enzo’s leash, you blinked up at Frank as he tugged on the big backpack stuffed with supplies. 

“One more day?” you cocked a brow, “you just feel like camping one day more than we planned? Making the trip just that little bit longer so that you–, oh yeah, so that you miss the summer barbeque that you’ve been acting like a toddler about.” 

“I haven’t been–,” he scoffed, though swiftly dropped it with a heavy huff, “look, is it really that bad that I’d rather spend my time with you and Enzo than sit through hours of small talk?” he pleaded as you began to tread away from the parked vehicle, through the wilderness you’d arrived at. 

“No, but I don’t wanna miss it,” you said. Letting out a sigh, you took a step closer to him and caught his wide palm, “look, you don’t have to come along if it’s really that terrible,” your fingers offered his a squeeze to underline your statement, “I love you, I’m not gonna force you.”

Glancing over at you, he caught your eye and offered you the faintest of smiles, “thank you.”

“But,” you stretched out the vowel as if you were blowing a piece of bubble gum, “I’m just saying that you might regret it, you might miss some really fun shenanigans.” 

“Yeah,” he huffed in response, “I bet.”

“Hey, I know he didn’t last year, but I’m crossing my fingers that this year, Otto gets super drunk on Donna’s punch again and starts thinking he’s a drag queen. I know he’s the sheriff, but he can really get put on a good show when the mood strikes and he thinks he’s twenty again.” 

Once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

“Oh,” you then suddenly stirred from your trance-like state, ripping your stare away from the flames, “I almost forgot!”

Scrambling off the stout log you’d used to sit on, you ripped open the flap of the tent directly behind you and crawled inside. 

Glancing over his shoulder, half with an amused grin and half checking out your ass, Frank watched as you tore open the backpack and fished out an item. 

Hiding it behind your spine, you didn’t reveal it before you’d returned to your seat. 

“Tada!” you presented your contribution to the camping trip. 

“Marshmallows,” Frank couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“You have to! You simply have to,” you declared as you ripped the plastic open. 

As you let yourself munch on one straight out of the bag, you watched as Frank picked up a few suitable twigs from the forest floor below, fished a swiss army knife out of his pocket and prepped them into the perfect utensils for the job.

The art of roasting marshmallows was something you’d perfected as a child. Getting them just right so that their outer shell got completely caramelised and golden brown, while the entire innards were rendered a sweet gooey mess. 

That fine skill was sadly not something Frank possessed, or perhaps cared about as deeply as you did. It nearly shocked you to horrors to watch him burn the little candy till it looked like a lump of coal, only to eat it without a care in the world as if it hadn’t been utterly ruined. 

So in order to prove to him just how wrong he was in his indifference, just how good they could be when done just right, you roasted him one to the utmost perfection.

“Alright,” you uttered when you retracted the stick from the flames. Carefully pulling it off the widdled twig, you held it out for him, though noted just before he enclosed his mouth around it, “careful, it’s hot.” 

As you studied his expression for traces of your victory, you popped your sticky fingers in your mouth, licking them clean one by one. 

Frank however also seemed to gaze back at you, though the heated stare that traced your innocent digits flew completely over your head as that wasn’t what you so intently were searching for. 

“So?” you impatiently poked in between cleaning the sugar off of your skin, “how is it?”

Swallowing the treat, he then hummed, “yeah, it’s good,” his eyes still glued to you. 

“Just good?” you cocked your head, “not amazing, incredible, your life will never be the same?” you listed off and then finally noticed just how intense his stare was, “what?” your voice seemed to shrink as you dropped the jest, “do I have some on my face?”

“No…” he shook his head lightly as one of your palms shot up to wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“Then what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just love you, is all,” he breathed, “you’re very cute,” his soft smirk grew wider as he then added, “especially when you don’t realise the dirty things you do.”

A giggle then erupted from your lungs, “what did I do?” and continued to bubble out of you even as he began to lean in, “what?” 

But instead of filling you in, he simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was soft at first, peppering you with pecks as your laughter slowly faded away. But then when your chuckling had come to a close and no longer vibrated against his lips, he let go of his gentleness and gave in to the desire that was about to burst. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips, a low groan flowed from him and melted against yours as they danced against one another. His broad palm only stayed on your cheek a moment longer before it soared down your frame, his other hand too joining in the exploration of your curves. 

You nearly couldn’t keep track of his touch as it wandered wildly, grabbing at every place that made you all tingly inside. Though, at one point when you thought you might fall off your makeshift seat, you actually did, or rather, Frank’s grasp slid down to your bottom and scooped you closer, so close in fact that you now found yourself half kneeling on the forest floor, between his thick thighs where he remained seated, and arching up to keep your lips still attached.

As one of his hands reconnected with your heated cheek, he withdrew ever so slightly as a groan left his throat, “god, I wanna fuck you…”

The gravel in his tone shot straight down between your legs and made you whimper, “please.”

After he seized your lips once more, the hand on the side of your face slid further up and disappeared into your hair. When his fist soon enclosed around the roots of your locks at the nape of your neck, a purr poured out of you, one he briefly paused the kiss to relish hearing. 

His other palm still grazed over your clothing, petting you so passionately that you expected on bated breath for him to rip your attire off. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, right when he pinched your nipple through your shirt, his fingers didn’t move to pop open the row of buttons. 

Pulling back from the heated kiss, he maintained your face so close to his that his prominent nose pressed against your cheek. 

“Take this off,” he commanded in a gravelly tone, faintly gesturing to your shirt before his hand floated up to join his other if your hair. 

As you scrambled to do so, hazy with lust, you tried to tilt your chin to capture his lips, but the grip he had on you caused each of your attempts to fail as he denied you another taste. 

Once your button-up tumbled to the ground, he rose to his feet, lifting you with him, before one of his hands briefly let go to gesture to the shorts that hung from your hips, “these as well.”  

It wasn’t till they too fell to the dirt that Frank finally kissed you again, or to be more accurate, nearly devoured you. 

Your fingers tangled in his flannel for purchase as he scooped your body even closer to his. When you felt the palpable tent in his pants press up against your stomach, your right hand had a mind of its own and slid down to graze and teasingly rub him through his clothing. 

“Fuck…” he grunted, swiftly leaning into your touch. 

When his feet began to move, yours blindly began to shuffle as well. Each time you encountered even a tiny twig or something to make you slightly lose your balance, your grip tightened in his shirt and his hold on you swiftly shifted and clutched your waist, just so that in case you actually did stumble, he would be ready to sweep you off your feet. 

The flap to the tent was already open from when you grabbed the marshmallows, so nothing was there to hinder you when Frank pushed you inside. 

As both of you sank down to your knees on the sprawled-out sleeping bags, you began to tear at his clothes, an action that he didn’t protest in the slightest, only brought a hand back up to tangle itself in your locks. With the tent still open to the great outdoors, the crackling light from the campfire streamed in and illuminated both your forms. The warm glow licked across Frank’s skin as you revealed more and more of it. 

When you began to tuck at the last remaining item covering him up, you barely managed to hook a finger in his boxers before Frank’s body moved, laying down and bringing you with him. Chest pressed down against his, he manoeuvred your legs to be at either side of his hips. 

Capturing his lips in a kiss, you both sucked in a slow breath through your noses. As his palms slid up from the curve of your ass and over your waist, the pent-up tempo that had formed outside seemed to relax, your sloppy makeout morphing into soft and yearning pecks. 

His scruff tickled your palms as you clutched his jaw and withdrew just enough for you to catch your breath. Your nose nuzzled gently against his as you then begged in a foggy whisper, “can I please suck your cock?” 

Huffing out a smile, he found your eyes, “you wanna suck my cock?”

“Please.”

“Oh yeah? Well then go right ahead since you want it so badly.”

Mirroring his grin, you leaned in to press your lips to his one last time, “thank you,” before you slowly began to crawl further down. 

Holding his gaze as he propped himself up onto his elbows, you dipped down to plant a few kisses across his stomach before your nose nuzzled against the waistband of his underwear. When you were slotted between his parted legs, resting on your belly with your feet kicked up, his thumbs dipped into his boxers and pulled them off before you had the chance. 

His length sprung free of its binds, throbbing under your gaze and glistening with precum. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you wrapped your fingers around his girth and a sharp intake of air filled Frank’s lungs. 

You only really had to tilt your head and stick out your tongue in order for it to glide across the bulbous head, as you already were at eye level. Glancing up to catch his gaze, you teasingly tapped the tip of him against your tongue, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards at his reaction. Dipping your head, you planted sloppy pecks down the side of him and when you came back up, you let your saliva dribble down his hardness, your fist swiftly swooping up to lavish its strokes.

When your lips finally enclosed around his girth, a deep rumble vibrated in his burly chest as he watched your slow movements intently, “fuck, I love you…” and his hand came down to stroke the side of your features as you silkily began to bob, “just like that, baby, yes,” drool gradually began to drip down as your lips stretched around his fat girth. When you then momentarily came up for air, Frank tilted his chin and said, “don’t forget the nuts, sweetheart,” and you swiftly bowed down to sloppily make out with his heavy sack, “give them some love as well.”

Then, just as you were about to return your attention to his painfully hard length, he manoeuvred your head for you and only relished in a few seconds of your butterfly-like pace before his hips twisted beneath you and bucked up into your efforts, fucking your little mouth till his cock plunged all the way down your throat. Spit bubbled up at the corners of your lips as his fingers curled around to hold your head in place just a moment longer, letting him fuck your throat till tears began to spew forth. You knew by the sensation that if you’d been lying on your back, the imprint of his cock would have been clear as day in the column of your throat, a familiar bulge that Frank would often let his fingers trace if he caught sight of it. 

Strings of slobber spiderwebbed from your swollen and gasping lips as he finally plucked you off of him. Sitting up more, he brought his face further down and pressed his mouth to yours, smothering the smile that appeared on your features as soon as you got up for air. 

As he impatiently ripped your bra off and you reached down to pull off your panties, they clung to your weepy cunt. Not being able to resist, yourself, you reached down and swept your fingers through your folds, your eyebrows crinkling up at the discovery of just how wet you’d gotten. 

Picking you up, Frank placed you back in his lap before his kisses faded and he layed back down. Raising yourself further up on your knees to hover above him, he grabbed a hold of the base of himself and briefly dragged the tip of him through your petals, flicking your clit before he brought a broad palm to your hip and helped you sink down. 

“Fucking hell…” you flutteringly cursed as you braced a hand on his chest, “oh, F-Frank…”

Your thighs trembled slightly on either side of him as you slowly eased your way down, the stretch of his fat cock proving just staggering as ever. 

As you gently began to roll your hips and find a calm pace that let you feel each and every single detail of him, your eyes fluttered shut as he stretched you out. Repeatedly raising your hips up till just the essence of him remained, you’d then sink back down, each time your slow pace nearly caused your pussy to clench and shrink back entirely so that it felt as if he’d have to split you open all over again. 

But just as you began to lose yourself to the heavenly sensation and let yourself slam back down with more ferocity, Frank’s cock slipped out of your creamy cunt completely. 

A whimper swiftly escaped you as your eyes blinked back open, but the man below you didn’t seem to move a muscle as he just uttered, “put it back in, baby,” which you swiftly reached down to do, moaning loudly as he slipped back into your warmth. His strong fingers dented the curve of your ass as you fulfilled his command, “there you go, good girl,” then swatted his wide palm against your backside to kickstart you back into action. 

Panting as you bounced like a little bunny, your hands crept up to squeeze your tits, pinching the nipples harshly as the melody of your efforts filled the tent. 

“That’s it, ride it,” he growled, offering your ass a few more slaps, “ride that fucking dick.”

Both of his hands then grabbed a hold of your bottom and surely bruised it as he aided your movements, though it didn’t take very long at all for him to take over completely and move your body atop of him, leaving you to just relax into his hold and sink deeper into the breathtaking sensation.

As he bounced you on his cock, he managed to nestle you down even further and grind his dick impossibly deep within you. 

Your head lulled back a bit as he rocked your form. Then, as you felt goosebumps tingle across your flesh and the intoxicating end near, you stopped fighting the urge and let your upper body crumble down against his. 

Fingers curling uselessly against his skin, you almost attempted to bury your face in his chest, right below his right shoulder. 

“Fucking hell,” your eyes rolled as you began to drool on his pec. 

Rolling his hips beneath you, he started to buck up into your weepy cunt before his palm landed a few tingling blows across your bottom. 

When your pussy finally clambered down around him, you nearly bit him as your features tensed up in a silent scream. His own demise soon arrived as well, especially as you throbbed and squeezed down around him so tightly that he nearly couldn’t move at all, just throw in the towel and let your cunt milk him dry. 

You almost fell asleep, laying there on his chest as it slowly rose and fell like a calm tide, Frank even assumed that you had until the moment that you murmured, “I’m so happy that you didn’t just keep driving…” 

“Uh…” his warm fingers drew slow patterns along your spine as he attempted to catch up, “when are you talking about?”

Faintly, you heard the tent rustle as Enzo sleepily stepped inside and plopped himself down on your tangled feet. 

“That you stopped back then on that day when my car broke down,” you uttered as your emotions began to fog up your voice, “thank you for stopping. If not, then we probably wouldn’t have ever met… god… I love you so much. I don’t even know how to–…” a heavy sigh flowed from you before you tilted your head and blinked up into his coffee eyes, tears glinting in your own, “I love you.”

With a molasses-like expression softening up his features, his fingers then tugged a strand of your hair out of your forehead before he replied, “I love you too, Y/n.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[eroticlamb]

Jeff Buckley's autograph, source ♡