#lillian drabbles

[viesalias]

Wip Wednesday!!

Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to post the whole thing...

A (later) continuation of this post

Pairing: Gale x Named!Fem!Tav (Lillian)

SFW

---

“We should take care of that lip of yours as well, so it doesn't get infected.”

He doesn't respond, instead opting to observe her while she works. Her nose scrunches up when she's focused and her lips purse into a pout he can't help but find utterly adorable. When her fringe falls into her face, she makes two attempts at blowing it out of the way before letting it hang in her eyes while she dabs the salve onto his lip. Her fingers tentatively hold his cheek while her thumb brushes soothing back-and-forth motions over the cut. He sucks in another hiss of pain at the stinging sensation and her grip on him tightens just so.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He is acutely aware of the gentle pressure from the pads of her fingers on his cheek and jaw, so much so that the sting of his lip fades into obscurity. It’s been so long since he’s been this close with another person, he has to steel his will so he doesn’t shiver at the contact alone.

[feveredbcnes]

"Rydw i yma/I'm here" - Rey & Thomas

Original prompt: [x]

‘I’m not going anywhere. Hold on, kid. Rydw i yma…rydw i yma.’

         Thomas’ assertive voice drowned amongst the ringing in his ears, but he was able to make out the terrible Welsh pronunciation. Was he that bad at teaching him? It was enough to make him smile – though it was more of a grimace with the amount of pain he was in. He appreciated the effort; it was a comforting gesture. And it did a perfect job of calming him down, despite how hard his heart hammered against the inside of his heaving chest. He needed that reassurance. Somebody to simply tell him that they were here – that they were right by his side. Reynardine was always an optimist by covering up his true emotions with a sunny disposition, but he struggled to disguise the distress upon his face this time. It was evident in his blown pupils and tight grip on Thomas’ hand, trying to focus on the many callouses the man earned through his job as a hunter. But they were difficult to feel when softened by fresh blood. His appearance was horrendous, forearms covered half-way with a dark maroon stain, and clothes completely ruined from where he leaned over the younger male. It was hardly important right now. They could easily be replaced, but Reynardine could not. 

           “Is it bad, Ewythr Thomas?” It felt bad. There was a burning sensation running down the length of his right side, exploding outwards in a spiral pattern. It matched the scatter of shotgun pellets. His skin was hot enough for a fever, but he failed to retain any warmth; an uncontrollable shiver took hold of his body. And he was clearly terrified, because it was the first time he actually called the man uncle. There was no doubt about his place in their lives, fitting quite nicely in as a member of their little family over the years. It was more than enough for somebody who had nothing to begin with. He left Barrow Hill with a backpack full of what small belongings he could grab in a hurry, but now he was never without amenities. He was always well fed and watered, courtesy of their generosity. Every so often, his wanderlust sent him travelling to different places for days on end – but he always came back to the bar. It was his default safe haven. His second home where he was greeted with excitement and declarations of how much they missed him. Well – a certain blonde did. But Thomas had a way of saying it by offering the werewolf a warm smile that reached eyes highlighted by wrinkles, followed by a solid shoulder shake and a comment of–

                         ‘–welcome back, son. Shit, you worried me for a second.’

          The edges of his vision blurred, telling Reynardine that he must have drifted off for a moment. He was pretty tired. It temporarily disorientated him, Thomas’ face drifting in and out of focus; he felt drunk. But this was far from being fun for the both of them. Fun was usually reserved for their many road trips to pick up supplies, or the numerous times they were persuaded into being taste testers for Lillian’s experimental recipes. Those times involved easy conversation and laughter, not soothing words and panic-invoked curses spilling from a normally composed man. This was another category altogether. He wanted to experience those fun moments again, however, but it required staying awake. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to rest. His eyelids felt incredibly heavy, forcing him to blink rapidly in a bid to keep them open. There was nothing wrong with closing them for a second – his hazy mind helpfully supplied. But that one second made a huge difference. It was a risk that he was far too young to take.

           “’m sorry. Are you mad at me?” He had worried Thomas multiple times before. Between coming home late, to disappearing a day more than he stated, he constantly kept the man on his toes. All Hell broke loose whenever Reynardine returned with injuries, but the anger was superficial. It was never real. He doted on the boy too much and any stern words sent his way derived from the overwhelming relief of seeing him alive and well. Although Thomas bristled at the question, ready to give the young male a piece of his mind, he found himself unable to even try. There was a time and place, and right now, Reynardine needed his support not disappointment. So it was exactly what he did. He reminded him about how often he was mad at him, and that would never change so long as he kept giving him reasons to be. But he also pointed out that his reaction was what came with being family.He was allowed to fret, to fuss, and fear about him; it was his damn job at the end of the day. 

Part of that job was making sure they both returned unscathed after a hunt, as well. Safety was his number one priority, but sometimes, there were outcomes he never could have predicted and prevented. Reynardine wearing his heart upon his sleeve was one of them. He should have known. There was never a time where the young male refused to help others, always putting others above himself – even at the risk of danger. He proved that exact point tonight. A hunt had its bad days; supplies ran out, steps were miscalculated, or an enemy proved tougher than they thought. But this one was going to haunt Thomas for a while, perhaps even forever depending on whether they received help in time. It was supposed to be a simple werewolf pack hunt, but miscommunication changed the course of the night with a split-second trigger pull. A fully transformed Reynardine had seen one of their friends struggling and ran towards him as a means of protection, but with too many werewolves to keep track of, the hunter failed to recognise their usual ally. 

                                     Thomas’ warning came too late.

           Now he was holding onto his boy, waiting for somebody to assist him. It felt like nobody was coming at all, despite the numerous messages coming through to his phone, telling him that help was on the way. Each ping made him even more irritated. He wanted people, not updates. Time was moving slowly, but Reynardine was losing strength quickly – and those frightened eyes remained staring up at him. It drove a guilty dragger straight into his heart. He promised Lillian that he was going to keep her friend safe and he was not going to break it. As the werewolf concentrated on Thomas, whether through blinding pain or sheer trauma blocking out reality, he wondered what they were waiting for. Confusion settled in, trying to comprehend why the other seemed frantic. His mind switched off for a moment, but loud shouting from a distance immediately brought him back. He remembered what happened now and his shaking hand gripped Thomas’ own even tighter, afraid of letting go. What words of comfort given by the older man was met with a choked out sob, a single question being asked:

                    “Can we go home now, please? I want to go home.” 

-- response by @shiningstages --

There's this part of Thomas that makes it hard for him to look Rey in the eye. That barely speaks when spoken to; that barely touches him or even get close to him in this state. As if scared the younger could shatter under any simple graze of skin or ginger poke. Things happen - Thomas knows that better than most - but this...He had felt his heart and soul shatter like that in a long while.

"He'll have to recuperate at home for awhile," wasn't supposed to be a sentence that jabbed him in the heart, but it did. At home. They were supposed to be a safe haven for the man; a place to find solace away from the lonely roads; a union of laughter and warm smiles and a family founded though hardship. A family - Christ, the thought twisted the knife. He almost killed his family...So many years of learning and bonding between them all almost ended in accidental bloodshed.

It takes all of Thomas' willpower to face him while Lillian is away. The girl was practically his bedside nurse otherwise, and no one batted an eyelash at her clinginess with him. Nearly losing her best friend - a brother figure and person she promised to be there for no matter what - took such a mental toll on her. Sleepless nights, constant visits to him before he was well enough to come home, and then staying by his side whenever possible at the bar. She of course knew she couldn't be a bother to his recover, but that didn't mean shed couldn't silently do all of her homework and huntress research in his room. Nor that Rey couldn't be her food taste tester, the amount of cooking as well as baking skyrocketing ever since he was well enough for full, solid meals. Whatever she thought she could do for him, she did. Whenever she felt she could be around him, she was there by his side. No one would dare separate her from Rey, and no one even thought of trying.

Thomas especially so, mainly because he knew Rey was getting properly cared for by her. But she had to go to school at some point, and Thomas had to venture into his room one day. It wasn't like he could avoid the guilt building up in his chest forever. Not when Rey, even as awkward as he could be during tense moments, tried to lighten the mood whenever the older man brought him food or new clothes. Remarks on the remnants of Lillian left behind during her rushes to school helped the most - passing thoughts on her behavior, comments on her food, chuckles at her attempted ideas to cheer either of them up. Of course, the latter wasn't too explored by Thomas. He knew that, at the end of the day, his niece never blamed him for what happened. Even though she hadn't looked at Thomas the same for days afterwards, eventually she held him and cried in his arms when she knew Rey was going to be okay, and Thomas couldn't help but cry with her, the few times such an emotion was visible to her. Her heart was too kind; her love for both men too strong that, when all threat of death was cleared, she couldn't help but try her best to support both of them. It made Thomas worry that she was pushing herself for the umpteenth time, but he couldn't exactly be the best guardian when he himself couldn't properly get over it either. So he let her be, both to save his heart from aching too much during the day, and for his niece to heal in her own way.

But, outside of that, Thomas just couldn't face the boy. Making minimal comments about if he was eating properly, the bare minimum of scolding while helping him change into fresh clothes - until the other could properly do it himself - asking if he needed, anything else, and then leaving the room. His senses were heightened throughout the day to hear for any ruckus from Rey's room, even when the bar's crowds started to form outside his office, but other than that he barely ventured to see him. The threat of bringing up that night at all - opening up those still fresh wounds and seeing the visions of his bloody nephew cradled so tightly in his arms outside of his night terrors - was enough to make the room feel like a danger zone every time he walked near it. Even if talking about it relived the tension in the air; even if having a heart-to-heart could solve all of their problems, Thomas refused it. Whether it was stubbornness over wanting to somehow repent for supposed sins, or just not wanting to feel so much pain burst from either of them over their feelings, or a combination of them both, Thomas' heart had gone back to the locked cage it had been for the younger male all those years ago.

...Though it couldn't stay like that forever. With Lillian in the middle of a busy school day, it was up to Thomas to bring Rey his lunch. A light sandwich, homemade applesauce curtesy of the girl, and a bit of homemade kettle chips that Thomas could manage to fry - All brought up on a tray to Reynardine's room. Hesitation before a deep breath, a light knocking at the door, a wait for a response...Nothing. More hesitation, Thomas starting to shake but then instantly calling himself a coward, before awkwardly opening the door so none of the food fell to the ground. Seeing Rey's eyes closed made his heart stop for a moment, but seeing the gentle rhythm of breathing made him then sigh in relief. Tiptoeing with such care, putting the food down on the desk gingerly, and pouring fresh water into the boy's empty cup without any loud splashing at all. Hearing movement makes his eyes go back to the boy, seeing him toss and turn a little in his sleep before settling again, face turned towards the hunter - mumbling with the smallest smile on his face. A sight that makes the weight on his chest lift, before all his thoughts make it choke the air out of his lungs again. His grip on the water pitcher tightening before he remembers he has to put it down, clanging more than he'd like, but only producing another mumble from the boy. Then fists go into his pockets, as if Rey could see how he tried to keep his shit together, staring down at him with a gaze swimming with emotion. "What are you dreaming about to produce a goofy grin like that, huh?" It an amused whispered that almost verged on condescending, venom only meant for himself regrettable mixed in; something the Thomas swallows down. Yet he can't stop looking. He even gets in closer, crouching by Rey's side as the boy turned his face near the edge of the bed, as if the distance would solve every question in his mind. He looked so peaceful, like a dog wagging his tail in his sleep while dreaming of food. The thought makes the hunter chuckle, and he wants to say it out loud, but he knows he can't...

It only brings about an instinctual gesture: a hand coming up to pat Rey's hair without a second thought. Once his palm feels that tangled mess is when sense comes back, frozen in place with that image of him comforting the boy in his arms, trying so desperately for the gesture and his voice to keep the light in his eyes. His screaming for help mixed with choked out reassurance, rain hiding both their tears of vastly different pains, wishing for so many things that all the magic in the stars should've burned out to grant him all the things he needed. Curses mixed with affirmations mixed with words he barely knew...

"Rydw i yma..." He whispered out. He was there for Reynardine. Always and forever; he would always...He catches himself before a sob can escape. Before he could accidentally grip Rey's hair too tight; before he could wallow in those visions for too long. Yet he couldn't stop his tears, silent waterfalls streaming down his face as he looked at the boy...So he closed his eyes, as if that would get rid of everything. All the feelings, all the bonding, all the hurrahs and heartache - He thought he would only ever feel pain for Lillian, not actually expecting anyone else to enter his life that he would want to care for and dote upon so much. In their own way; in their own partnership - He was Ewythr Thomas now, too.

If Rey were to die...He'd want to die with him.

"'M sorry...I'm so sorry..." It's a whisper pushed through clenched teeth, touching his forehead to the younger man's and ruffling his hair, "None of this would've happened if I...if I just..." A growl of frustration rumbled in his throat, holding back every urge to yell and pound the ground with his other fist. What was done was done, and he knew that. In the pouring rain and the dead of night, his visibility was shot to hell when he pulled the trigger, and he knew that. Reynardine was just as kind as Lillian in that he probably couldn't fully blame him for that night, and he knew that. Thomas just...Couldn't accept it. He wanted to get gunned down a million times; eaten alive or clawed into a million pieces; drowned in anguish and sorrow for a million years. Even if the world forgave him, he could never accept it properly, nor could he ever forgive himself.

[dapperbasil]

OC Kiss Week: Day 2

Toronto, Ontario. July 2005.

After many years away, Lillian arrives at her pack's old haven to refurbish it for a new purpose... As well as to pay her respects.

When the clouds turned gray and the sky opened up to a torrential downpour, that didn’t bother Lillian in the least. As rain pattered against her porcelain skin and her clothes stuck to her body, she was undeterred. Kneeling in the cathedral garden at the two headstones secluded from sight, the Tzimisce recited her prayers. Useless, formless prayers for Alice and Nadia, prayers to an unloving and unforgiving God that they have found rest in their final deaths. The words continued to spill from her mouth, even as her tears joined the rain overhead, blood mixed with water dripping onto the ground in front of her. A thank you to the dark father for their unlives, for the many years they devoted to the pack. An apology from their priest, who couldn’t even be there in their final moments.

As rain fell from the sky and tears fell from her eyes, Lillian felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Only once her words were finished did she turn around to see her husband standing next to her, holding an umbrella over the two of them. No words were exchanged as Lillian took his arm, pulling herself to her feet. Brushing off the dress now covered in dirt and blood and soaked through with rain, Lillian stared almost emotionless at the graves in front of them. “I should have been here for Nadia. For my pack.” Her voice was cold and sharp, almost as if she hadn’t just been mourning only moments earlier.

Marcus handed off the umbrella to his much taller wife and leaned into her as he did so. “She fought valiantly, Nadia would not want you to mourn for her.” No more words were shared at this moment, the two simply stared at the graves before them as the rain poured down heavier and heavier. Of course there were no bodies, no remains, nothing. There was no proof Nadia ever even lived, aside from their memories. He supposed that was why Lillian insisted on the graves. His wife had always been a sentimental sort, after all.

“I do not mourn for Nadia.” Lillian spoke up, breaking the silence as she began to lead the two of them out of the spot hidden by the overgrowth where the tombstones lay undisturbed. Her eyes look at the garden around them as they pass, noticing how unkempt it has become and how much work is needed to tend to it. She stops at a flowering plant, reaching over and holding its petals within her cold, almost mechanical hand. “I mourn for the new life that will come to my cathedral. If I cannot stop the death of a skilled warrior such as Nadia, how am I supposed to lead fledglings into war?” Plucking the flower and letting it fall to the ground battered by the storm, Lillian looks back at the man beside her. “I am no ductus, I am barely a pack priest. I am not meant to lead, not in this condition.”

The Ventrue beside her walks around to stand in front of her, not caring how the rain pelted him as he did so. Reaching up to cup her cheek, the blonde man gives a compassionate smile to his wife. “Your condition as you call it hasn’t stopped you the past hundred-eighty years, and I doubt it will stop you now. You are nervous, but you aren’t alone. Your priest will be by your side each step of the way, and of course…” He takes her free hand in his, their fingers interlacing as they have time and time again. “Simply call upon me, if you ever so need.”

Lillian leans down, drawing Marcus into a kiss as she drops the umbrella to better pull him closer. The storm has become a downpour at this point and in the overgrowth of the garden the two feel branches and leaves thrash against their backs. Neither seem to notice however, even as the wind blows the umbrella away and Lillian laughs into Marcus’ lips. When the two part, their foreheads lean against one another as they share a knowing smile. “I always need you, darling.”

[turmoilcity]

They Moved into a mansion in the year of 2008

This is an AU based off mth that awesome ppg fic i'm obsessed with

.~.

A gush of wind dashed down the hallways.

"Guys!" Jenna cried desperately after it. To her surprise, Lillian bounced up to her.

"It's no worries. Mrs. Morbucks says we can use our powers here! She already knows we have them!" Lillian claimed gleefully. Jenna gave an eye back to the lady standing neutrally in the yard. A grimmace appeared on her face.

.~.

"Why the fuck can't we use our powers here!?" Bella barked.

Jenna folded her arms, "it's not smart to break our covers under any circumstance until-"

"I can't take this shit anymore! I need to punch! Breathe! All this time we've had to contain ourselves, and you know I'm the worst at doing it!" Bella barrelled over her,breathing heavy.

Jenna tried to remain neutral,  "You think this no power bullshit is just hard for you?" She snapped. "We're all here undercover, so take a number!"

"Easy for you to say when you're the big, bitchy, boss who has no one to answer to."

"I've had to put up with your ridiculousness since we got here!"

Lillian sat in a chair of the large room filled with bookshelves and her friends arguing as she looked wearily between them. It was like the bickering was never going to stop and they kept taking a step closer as if any second they were going to get physical. Eventually she shot up from her seat. 

"Guys." She said over them they stopped enough to acknowledge her but didn't break eye contact. "Break it up already. We shouldn't be fighting over this," she said in a placid tone.

Jenna stood back, cocky like with a hand on her hip, "Yeah. Exactly. Better off not arguing with the one who has to call the shots anyway."

Bella groaned, "Oh please." Lillian sighed defeatedly plunking herself back in her seat.

A knock came at the door and all three turned to.

"Girls, I heard you up here and ordered Alfred to make us some lemonade. May I come in?" It's Mrs. Morbucks.

Jenna glares at Bella, "Yeah," she says loud enough for her voice to carry. 

There's the sound of glasses clinking and liquid splashing about as Mrs. Morbucks struggles with the door. Lillian zips to help her.

Mrs. Morbucks is relieved upon the help, "thank you dear," she smiles and huffed graciously. The glasses clink as she carries it in. Bella and Jenna are still having a death match over who can stare the longest. 

"I'll help you with those," Bella says, not breaking eye contact with Jenna.

For a moment it looks like she's gonna use her powers to float to the woman, instead, she gives into Jenna’s glaring, turning her back and inhaling greatly before helping the woman out.

"Oh, you girls are so precious, " Mrs. Morbucks says kindly as the dish is lifted away. "I really appreciate the help.”

"It's nothing," Bella grunted. 

Mrs. Morbucks takes a seat, "so," she claps her hands. "What do you think of the place?”

Lillian immediately lightens up, "it's so big in here! " She looks up dazed for emphasis, "I didn't think it'd have this many rooms, and it's already so big on the outside!"

"Definitely didn't take in the full size of this place during Princess’ party," Bella smirked. Her eyes went wide and she swore under her breath, "dammit. Was I supposed to say that?"

Mrs. Morbucks laughed, "it's fine hun, I already knew she threw plenty while I was away. Here, help yourself to some drinks while they're fresh."

Lillian and Bella picked up a glass as Jenna stood back, arms crossed and mouth shut. 

Bella actually scoffed at her, "What? You think she's poisoned it or something?"

"Wouldn't have helped us to spare your tongue for us if it was, huh”" Jenna shot back venomosly, words spilling out of her like a shaken up soda bottle.

Bella groaned, rolling her eyes, "Oh please. Spare me from your theatrical linguistics.  Why don't you talk like a normal person, unless you're too good for that too?"

"That's rich coming from the person who acts like they can't give into themselves for one side mission!" Jenna exclaimed this by slamming her fist on the table, disrupting the glasses.

Lillian went panicked and Bella just seethed.

"I…I'm sorry," Jenna muttered not lifting her eyes to the lady in front of her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You really came in at really frustrating time."

"Oh, I heard you two arguing from the villa’s garden outside. You two seem very acquainted with shouting over one another." 

Bella scoffs again.

Jenna rolls her eyes, "Please Mrs. Morbucks, " she takes a glass, "we can work this out on our own."

"Are you sure?"

Jenna frowned at her, offended, "Positive. And it's best that you stay out of it."

Mrs. Morbucks raised her eyebrows, "Now Jenna, is that anyway to talk to an adult? I was sure Evan raised you better than that."

Bella laughed and Lillian frantically shoved her, shushing her twin. 

"We are here based on work related terms. The respect is mutual." Jenna clarified. 

Mrs. Morbucks looked at her a moment before shrugging, "if you say so dear. Lemonade?"

" 'M not thirsty." Jenna grunted turning away.

"Okay, well I just wanted to welcome you three," Mrs. Morbucks says. "I know it's random to be invited to a mansion by the mother of an ex self proclaimed villain and all,  but I assure you, I mean no harm. Take your time familiarizing yourself here if you need to."

Lillian was gracious, "thank you, Mrs. Morbucks! " she beamed.

"Yeah, thanks," Bella muttered sipping her lemonade.

"Ofcourse." She stood and dusted herself off, "Now, I wanted to show you girls the other rooms with a bit of a tour."

Lillian was elated, "A tour?"

"I heard there was an arcadia," Bella spoke up. 

Jenna only crossed her arms. 

"Well, the only way to find out is if we take a look and see." Mrs. Morbucks said giddy. Guiding them out of the room.

.~.

"That mansion tour was overrated, she just wanted to boast about how big this place is." Jenna muttered fanning out a shirt to fold and store away.

Lillian was helping her, sat on her bed, "Oh Jenna, why do you have to look at the bad side of everything," she said nurturing, picking up some laced underwear and stretching them out to look at them.

Jenna grabbed them away, "I'm not looking at the bad side, im just being realistic," she huffed and picked up another shirt, "this woman just comes out the blue claiming she's here to help us. I can barely trust myself at times, I'm definitely not trusting her."

"If you can't trust yourself, how are you going to be our leader?" Lillian poked feigning a nagging gesture with her hands on her hips.

Jenna sighs, slumping slightly, "I don't know." Her friend wraps her in a hug.

"I'm only joking," Lillian smiles at her. 

There's a commotion in the hall that stirs the both of them. 

"Sorry! I think I broke a vase trying to move my PC set in" Bella says from the hallway. Mrs. Morbucks could be heard dialing Alfred. "Would be nice if I had my powers," Bella glared into the room.

"You can't even play on the internet on that thing, you already tried setting it up at the other house," Jenna pointed out. Bella flicked her off, then her eyes dash to Lillian clung around Jenna in the mess of clothes on her bed.

"I thought you said you'd help me set this up!" Bella cried.

"Sorry! I wanted to help Jenna fold some of her clothes!" Lillian exclaimed before rushing to help her twin. 

Bella muttered incoherently to Lillian as she joined earning a whack from her. Jenna rolled her eyes sure that whatever Bella had said was something to do with her, and settled back unto the bed to finish her folding.

[vvarvvon]

LILLIAN N. BISHOP, a tag dump

[chillinglyadventurous]

I love you, I’m sorry Drabble

Spent the weekend sobbing to I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams. Wanted this to be a Ford x Lillian fic, but those seem to underperform, so here’s Ford x GN!Reader

The late evening light filtered through the study’s tall windows, casting the room in hues of orange and blue. You sat across from Ford, the quiet tension in the room almost palpable. He was bent over his work, eyes focused on the pages beneath his hands, but you knew he was aware of your presence. He had been pulling away lately, his attention pulled in so many directions, other worlds, other dimensions, everything, but you. Now, it felt like you were both drifting further apart even in the same room.

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” you said, breaking the silence, your words a confession.

Your words hung between you, raw and unguarded, as he finally looked up. His expression was stuck somewhere between sadness and regret. His eyes searched yours and, for a moment, you thought he would reach out, pull you close like he used to.

“I love you,” he sighed, voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. There was a weight to his words, something deeper that he’d kept hidden even from himself. “I always have, but I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, there was a distant look that made your chest ache. “I thought I could keep you close, but I keep pulling you into my own darkness. You deserve better than that.”

You felt a pang of both relief and pain because you knew his words came from a place of love, but they also stung like goodbye. Reaching across the table, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath yours. “I don’t need perfect, Ford. I just need you.”

For a second, he gripped your hand tighter, a glimmer of hope shining in his gaze. But then, as if recalling some old wound, his fingers slipped away. “I love you, I’m sorry.”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Evening Quiet

A Curtis x Honey Drabble.

1.5k What makes a house a home? The people.

Warnings- mention of sexual activity.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

Yes you were glad to be home. 

Vacationing was always nice, getting away to see someplace new was always exciting. Florida proved to be just what was needed to battle the winter chill with its sandy beaches and endless amounts of sunshine that for you and Curtis seemed a blessing. 

After battling the freezing ice and snow of Duluth, Florida’s weather seemed like summertime to the two of you. 

There were nights of firepit and beers in the backyard, lazing around on a yacht that Frank was currently working on, some shopping to be had, and the food, you were greatly missing the taco truck right about now. 

But all that said, you were glad to be home. Right now home wasn’t your third-floor apartment in downtown Duluth. It was curled up on Curtis' couch, watching a television documentary about a haunted house in Pennsylvania where the ghost team started talking about the history associated with the residence. Outside, big heavy flakes slammed against the window like they were trying to escape the cold too, but the clear glass on the picture window was keeping you and Curtis safe. 

Wrapped around your legs was the afghan off the back of the couch, Curtis’s hand was resting on the curve of your waist, his fingertips lightly grazing the bit of skin peeping from your pajamas you had spent most of the day wearing and nearby the small wood stove he used for the first floor chill was popping once in a while as the wood provided them with sleep inducing warmth. 

Your head was laid down on his thigh, the very motion of his fingers and the warmth under the blanket making your eyes slip close once in a while in complete blissful calm. 

It was settling in the way that this felt like where you were supposed to be at the end of your day. You didn’t even realize that the simple motion of letting your eyes close and give in to that feeling would make your breathing grow heavier and you completely lost track of the show. 

Curtis noticed though, because that last bit of tension seeped from you and finally you let yourself sink into his lap. He could feel the warmth of your breath’s sink into the fabric of his black jeans while sleep seemed to sneak up on you. 

He couldn’t resist letting his fingers slip further down, without any intentions other than to rub at your hip, the soothing sensation making you stretch a bit in a moan at the comforting touch he provided. His gaze stayed on the tv for the most part, being interested in the findings and history of the old homestead that actually reminded him of his own home. 

He wondered where his house's ghosts were wandering around tonight. He had heard a few creaks earlier on the stairs, which might be from the cold snapping the house's old bones outside, but it was easier to let himself think it was Wilford and Lillian appreciating what he was doing with their loved home. 

It certainly has all come back to life since you came into the picture. His weekends no longer consisted of him all alone, but you were there with your endless amounts of sewing projects and script rewrites for your drama club, working on your next science-themed project for your classroom, the scattering of your books from the living room to the upstairs nightstand where you never seemed to bring them home to finish reading and he never mentioned it simply because he liked to read them too before going to sleep. His little Honey had some erotic reading tastes that he fully intended to use on you. 

Like the recent chapter, he read the other night while you were back at your apartment gave a very detailed description of using paints in foreplay. He chuckled softly to himself imagining the painting the two of you would make, hung up for no one to know. 

His amusement with his thoughts must have woken you, cause you stirred just a bit, shifting to roll to your back and look up at him, blinking sleepily at him for a moment. “What’s funny?” 

“Oh, just thinking about how good you would look covered in paint while I was having my way with you.” Curtis said matter of factly while watching the ending of the show with his eyes half shut like he was also starting to fall asleep. 

You blinked at him a moment while his gaze drifted almost lazily down to where you were laid on his lap, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes giving away his amusement at the way your face heated up. Your brows twisted for a moment in thought as you clearly recalled reading something very similar. “Did you read my book?” 

A grin cracked on his face with a suggestive arch of his brows that said he clearly did and you gasped when he swooped down to steal a kiss from you. “Honey, you want me to kiss and tell?” 

You gave a teasing little snort as you went cross eyed staring up at him. “They are for educational purposes.” 

Curtis straightened back to a sit, his fingers dancing along your neck and massaging into your hair at the base of your scalp, it felt so good that you let yourself get slightly distracted by it. “Oh I know you are getting quite the education from it. I can’t wait to reap the benefits.” 

You again felt your face heating up, knowing exactly what things he read in your books. All the kinky little smut fests that had supposed plot lines leading up to all of them. Your hands covered your face with a groan, peeking up between your fingers. “You weren’t supposed to learn my dirty secret.” 

Curtis clicked the tv off, his features turning thoughtful at your words. “Why is that, were they something you didn’t want me to see Honey?” 

“No, no, I don’t care. I’m just shocked you even took an interest in my pile.” You gave a little shrug while giving a yawn and cuddling in closer, enjoying the quiet of the wood crackling in the nearby stove and the snow gently hitting on the glass. “But…” You went a bit quiet, trying to sort through the masquerade of feelings it brought up in you that Curtis wasn’t making some snide remark about your ‘porn’. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it if he was mentally filing away scenes from it. Curtis as usual was patient, not rushing you to spit out what you were trying to say. “I like that you saw them and you’re okay with them?” 

Curtis already knew what was on your mind, you had questioned him a few times about things that he honestly never would have thought about. That your ex was such a controlling asshole to you that you still worried about him actually being mad if you did something you thought he wouldn’t care for. His features softened towards you. “Honey, I am always going to be okay with whatever you choose to read and want you to. You don’t ever have to hide them from me. It’s like the toys, I encourage it.” 

Any apprehension seemed to melt away when you got that confirmation from him, moving to ease yourself up. Curtis's arms shot up in a stretch while giving a yawn. “But tonight, I’m crashing early so no smut reading for me. Gotta do snow cleanup before leaving for the yard in the morning.” 

Your hand reached out for his, helping him off the couch. “Meet you upstairs?” 

“Go on up, I'm just gonna tend this fire and make sure the house is closed up for the night.” He tugged you in close for a second to steal a kiss and then released you towards the stairs. 

As you started up the old creaky stairs, with the various pieces of artwork and old photographs of his family hanging along the hallway leading towards Curtis’s bedroom, your pile of sewing materials piled on the bottom step amid some of Curtis's clothes that needed patching, to the kitchen where you could hear Curtis opening the cupboard above the stove that held all your teas and honey, out of the corner of your eye you saw the cover of one of your books on the coffee table your boyfriend takes sneak peeks at as well as his reading glasses perched atop of the cover, this old house with its stories that you were starting to become a part of and the man who would follow right behind you because he always tried to do what he said he was going to do, these things were starting to feel like home more then that drafty old apartment you had crashed landed in after you restart your life to get away from your ex. 

This was becoming where your heart belonged.

[jor-elsemissary]

Blind!Lionel Verse - Seasons 2-5

A series of 100 word drabbles looking into the moments of Lionel Luthor's life in which he did not recover his eyesight and Martha Kent had not quit her job.

It will be set in chronological order in-universe.

----

Season 2

Beginnings - Lionel and Martha discuss opera in the garden

Medicine - Martha mothers Lionel over his pain meds

Lillian - Lionel visits his wife

Breakfast - Martha wants breakfast, Lionel has them stop at a 50s diner

Airport - Even billionaires have to go through TSA

Bed - Martha helps him retire for the night

Heavenly - Martha makes him eat breakfast

Rumors - the tabloids talk

Light - Lionel has a panic attack

Lucas - Lionel and Lex talk about Lucas

Dreaming - Lionel questions his feelings about Martha

Continue - Lionel plays Nocturne in front of Martha

Guilt - Martha confronts Lionel about the file

Infallible - Lionel knows why Martha stayed

Enough - Lionel subtly seduces Martha

Perfume - Lionel can tell people apart by their cologne/perfume

Writing - He misses being able to write

Polyglot - Martha tries to gaslight him into learning braille

Martha - In his fantasies, he has Martha

Birthday - Lex reminds his father whose birthday it is

Drink - Lucas errors in a way that almost kills Lionel

Jonathan - Jonathan confronts Lionel

Love - Jonathan confronts Lionel cont'd

Passion - Lionel daydreams at the wrong time

Crown - Lionel cleans one of his watches

Grandson - They talk about grandchildren and marriage

Baby - He learns Martha is pregnant

Season 3

Father - He learns Martha lost the baby

Name - Martha and Lionel discuss the miscarriage

Son - A father and a mother grieve the loss of their sons

Lex - Lionel says his goodbyes after the funeral

Morgan - Morgan Edge visits Lionel

Scent - Lionel realizes how much he actually stinks

Hands - Lionel cant keep his hands to himself

Affair - Jonathan believes they’re having an affair

Heart - Jonathan has a heartattack

Reconciliation - Lionel is trying something new with Lex

Music - Lionel learns Martha likes to sing

Radio - He talks about her hidden talent

Sing - Martha learns about some of Lionel’s musical talent

Swing - She learns he’s a swinger too

Christmas - Martha invites Lionel to the Kents

Silence - Lionel forces Martha to confront her feelings about Jonathan

Eggnog - Lois spikes Lionel's eggnog... a lot

First - Lionel is given a surprise Christmas gift

Time - Lionel cant remember what Martha looks like

Pleasure - Lionel wants Martha to join him in the bath

Divorce - Lionel learns Martha wants a divorce

Denial - Lionel plays marriage councilor

Gift - Martha gives him a gift for a change

Lionel - He can’t remember what he looks like

Abuse - Lionel tells Martha about his childhood

Julian - Lex has a real episode

Kryptonite - He learns how he got cancer

Edge - Lionel learns he is mortal

Cancer - He attempts suicide

Live - Martha saves him

Storm - Lionel is arrested for murder

Season 4

Father (2) - Lionel realizes what he’s become

Shiv - Prison life is hell for a billionaire

Despondent - Lionel contemplates suicide again

Clark - Lionel studies his new body

Sapphires - Lionel sees Martha

Jor-El - The father chooses his vessel

Infamous - Lionel's cellmate reads him the headlines

Release - Lionel learns he is acquitted

Stoic - Genevieve threatens an acquitted Lionel

Season 5

Emissary - Lionel gives a dire warning

Comfort - They attend a Senator’s funeral

Holiday - He invites the Kents over for a party

Christmas (2) - Martha attends the party after all

Thunder - They're stuck while Alex gets help

Flame - A road trip ends in passion

Cockpit - Martha finds out what Jor-El has done

Pet - Martha helps Lionel recover after the episode

Endings - Martha and Lionel watch Titanic

Fire - Lincoln Cole puts him through a trial by fire

Burn - Lionel discovers who his partner is

Apex - He is forced to listen to Martha drown

Mercy - Lionel realizes the truth of their situation

Confession - Lionel once more attempts to commit suicide

----

Seasons 6-10

[idalenn]

spare - for the random word generator prompt!

Thank you for the drabble prompt! I'm putting this under a read more because it went a little longer than I thought it would.

A bit of Lillian thinking about her family below the cut.

"That their paths never crossed was one part happenstance and two parts misfortune. She was out of sync with her family’s rhythms. Spending a surplus of time among folks who used words like “civilized” to define themselves would do that; what really differentiated “poacher” from “hunter” other than a loose set of laws made up by people who’d forgotten their forebears’ love for one another?

Look at Garlemald, Lillian thought as she poked at the blackened log in the fireplace and chipped off another brittle corner. Fire and cataclysm. A falling moon. Enormous swaths of the Shroud burned to cinders. Orange wisps flew from the crackling flames to land at her feet before she rubbed them out underfoot. A hearty tree and some blankets to smother any flames that got too close, that’s all they would need.

She chuckled to herself. What was Dalamud’s wrath to a nature-tempered Keeper and a sopping blanket from their mother larger than herself? And a tribe? They’d have carved their way through the chaos making fools of anyone who hoped for fate to spare them as though there were sniveling kittens packed into a box. They needn’t even reside within the Shroud any longer. They could have emigrated to Limsa Lominsa, or Ul’dah, or spent summers preparing clothes and supplies to live the remainder of their lives in cold Coerthas. So long as she never found them, she could claim to herself they were alive somewhere, forever, sitting around fires while visitors traded bits of her tale for them to chew on. She could have even forgiven her family if they’d forgotten her entirely. By turning her gaze from any scrap of evidence, her heart would never be convinced of their demise, and that was enough.”

[luriddaze]

continued from HERE. // @soft-drabbles

"oh yeah? i suppose you do know more about that than anyone else i know." jaxon was far from a subtle man, and it definitely showed in how he interacted with her. he simply couldn't keep his eyes off of the woman, nor could he keep his mouth shut about how much he missed being with her in every sense of the word. the man took the joint back from her grasp, smiling brightly as he brought it back to his lips, all while keeping his eyes focused on her as she spoke. jax couldn't fight the chemistry between them, even if he tried his hardest. a large cloud of smoke escaped between his lips and into the air surrounding the two of them. "you know you're the only one who gets to see this sweet side, don't you? i'm pretty sure everyone else thinks i'm a royal pain in the ass," he stated with a small chuckle. nobody really understood him like lillian did, or found his brass humor to be all that amusing, but she saw the good within him that many would never dig far enough to get a glimpse of. "i know i joke that you can't stay away from me, but the truth is, neither can i. i mean, with you. if you didn't show up tonight, i'd probably show up at yours." he admitted with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. "how about you finish this off and i can join you in the kitchen?" he suggested, handing the joint back to her with a dimpled grin. "i promise i'll be a better date than that other idiot. you have my word."

[love-bokumono-fics]

Fresh Crops! February 26 - March 3, 2024

This week's newest fics and chapter updates for Harvest Moon and Story of Seasons on AO3!

Story Of Seasons: A Wonderful Life - by OmegaRain_Productions; Complete, 1/1, 1.9k

Rating: Mature; Archive Warnings: Major Character Death; Categories: F/F, F/M Fandom: A Wonderful Life Summary: Following the Death of her father; Ashley Natsume moves to Forget Me Not Valley with one goal in mind; revive her fathers farm back to its glory days; no mater what.

The Language of Flowers - by spoopybat; WIP, 76/?, 186k

Rating: Explicit; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: The Tale of Two Towns Relationships: Cam | Kamil/Lillian the Farmer | Sato, Chelsea/Vaughn | Waltz Additional Tags: **NOTE: Some tags have been removed to remain Safe For Tumblr. Please see AO3 for complete listing** Tags Contain Spoilers, POV Alternating, Background Relationships, Starting Over, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Minor Injuries, Physical Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Socially Awkward Characters, Cliche, Mutual Pining, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Emotional Baggage, References to Depression, Dysfunctional Family, Melodrama, Family Drama, First Love, First Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Loss of Virginity, First Time, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Kitchen Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy, Morning Sickness, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Constipation, Arguing, Medical Conditions, Medical inaccuracies but I'm gonna do my best, Panic Attacks, Engagement, Couch Sex, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, Honeymoon, Body Worship, Making Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mental Anguish, Spa Treatments, Fights, Making Up, Mental Health Issues, Depression, Language of Flowers, Emotional reunion, Reunion Sex, Pregnant Sex, Therapy Summary: Lillian, a young woman from the Sunshine Islands, left her home and moved to Bluebell. In hopes that moving to this rural farm town to escape her troubled past and find the happy life she had always wanted.

Brown - by CreationsGoneAwry; WIP, 2/7, 5.1k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandom: Trio of Towns Relationship: Female Farmer/Hinata; Characters: Female Farmer, Hinata, Komari, Yuzuki, other characters make minor appearances Additional Tags: Romance, Friendship, Family Issues, Female Friendship, Male Friendship, Drama Summary: Three childhood friends - Hinata, Yuzuki, and Komari - have let the newcomer, Holly, into their circle, and the four are very close friends. As time goes on, though, Holly realizes she wants to be more than friends with Hinata, who is also not-so-secretly crushing on her. Light teasing and frustration from Komari and Yuzuki ensue when either of the idiot pair continues to deny the possibility that the other has feelings for them.

Orange Candy - by buckwheatseeds; Complete, 1/1, <1k

Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: Animal Parade Relationship: Chase/Molly the Farmer; Character: Molly the Farmer Additional Tags: Cooking, Drabble, Short One Shot, Backstory, Falling In Love Summary: Sweet, sweet orange candy. Molly makes a gift in return for Chase's gift to her.

[feveredbcnes]

Mistaken Identity - Rey & Thomas

Original drabble by @shiningstages transferred from our old blogs.

“ Didn’t I just tell you to fucking stop, you piece of shit?! ” The hunter’s curses stem from what a huge annoyance this case had become. Though, the werewolf was more of a “caught-in-the-moment” type of thing, rather than an occurrence late at night, with he and Lillian going on the case to take this sucker down. And of course he had to be caught ripping into a man right behind his bar. This one must’ve just been really stupid, or was purposefully trying to get a rise out of Thomas this time, because the wolf should’ve heard about the little hunter duo that protected this town, bringing about their supernatural justice with an iron fist and a righteous heart. The names of Lillian and Thomas Marchand should strike fear into the hearts of all who dared to pass through and disrupt the peace...

Or so said Lillian, on a particular night of success, in one of her occasionally bragging moments, the regulars at the bar laughing and cheering at the little speech, drinks being raised as Thomas and a few others watched the scene unfold outside his office. One of them being a supernatural creature himself, but no one else in the bar knew that besides Lillian and him. 

Looking down at the smaller and younger male as Lillian continued to boast, he couldn’t help but grin at the soft yet glad expression on his face, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and bringing him close, letting out a boisterous laugh at the other’s yelp of surprise. “ Ah, Rey, just look at her! I haven’t seen her this excited about finishing a case since school let out! ” He points to his niece, and the other man nods in agreement, both of them sharing a bit of silent joy over the happy little girl before Thomas decides to break the silence again. “ Why don’t you go closer and listen to her rabble off the story again, Rey? She loves it when you listen to her stories, especially since you’re a part of this one. ” Having him help on this case was a huge lifesaver, having him give them insight, and even stick his neck out to find the little group of wolves so Thomas could give them the element of surprise, and have the extra help if he needed it. Which he did; being outnumbered three to one against surprisingly strong youngsters, he would’ve been mince meat if Reynardine hadn’t helped him.

“ No thanks; I’m pretty content back here. I don’t really want to butt in on her shining moment in the spotlight. ” The other man states, a grin gracing his own features as Thomas quickly raises his hand in objection. “ Hey now, you deserve some spotlight! You’re a big part of the story, you know! ”

“ Well you are too, Thomas. You’re the amazing uncle that strikes fear into creatures of the night. ”

“ Alright, then we’ll both go up there! ”

Another sound, this time of disapproval, comes from the smaller male as Thomas drags him to the bar, his other friends chuckling as he tells his niece to stop standing on the counter and to tell everyone who incredibly important Rey’s role in the whole ordeal was. Of course, the little girl grins from ear to ear and runs with the proposal, plopping herself on a bar stool and looping her arms in one of theirs as she turns her boasting and praise directly onto them both. How bright and cheerful their faces were, it could’ve made for a fantastic photo to put on the wall...

“ Damn. I wish he was here to help with this right now. ” Rey was definitely cooler than Thomas, expertly calming down his behavior now than he was when they first met, and a great ally to have in the supernatural world in general. A great friend, too. He even considered him family, if the man was feeling particularly mushy and sentimental. Rey had been on the last case, with he older man treating him with the same soft words and gestures he did to Lillian, especially when they both got hurt protecting the other in a pretty brutal fight. He’d never forget that kindness. It really gave him hopes that Lillian’s ideals would really sound through the community, and that that bond would a pillar of strength for her words. 

But Rey wasn’t here to help this time. He’d said his goodbyes already, and was probably already on his way up into Virginia. He had to go to New York for something, he said, but just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see them first, even if they lived so far away. It just made Thomas happy to know the man cared that much about them, and it of course made Lillian overjoyed to have the werewolf visit them for awhile. But now he was gone, and Thomas knew it’d be a bit rude to just call him up in the middle of the night and ask if he could come back.

Thomas had this. He’s done it before on his own, even before Lillian came around, and he could certainly do it again.

A snarl coming from the creature in front of him finally brings him out of his thoughts, coming to a screeching halt before he can run into the beast, who suddenly turns and slashes downwards at him. Thomas barely dodges, the arm of his coat getting torn before he lands on his ass, scrabbling to his feet before he can get hit with another blow. He barely has time to reach into his coat pockets and quickly yank something out; his dagger’s the first thing he grabs, and it isn’t his weapon of choice in this scenario, but it would have to do until he had another window of time to actually look for his gun. Close combat was going to be dangerous, though, especially since this guy was now on the offensive. One false move would cost Thomas his life if he wasn’t careful.

“ Okay, you ugly---! ” He goes for a swipe towards the werewolf, cutting off some fur but not much else as it moves, then sliding away as claws lunge towards him. Of course the hunter could keep up this little dance, swiping at the other’s arm and getting a good cut, hearing the wolf let out a whine of pain. But he knew he couldn’t keep it up forever, at such a close range, when the arm comes back and claws digs into his shoulder, making the hunter wail in pain, nerves stinging and blood rushing as the werewolf raises it’s other arm in the air. Thomas doesn’t think about the wound or the other’s next action, he just twists the dagger in his hand and quickly goes for a stab, landing it in the beast’s abdomen and dragging it down and through, until a yelp and he’s tossed to the ground. The hunter still doesn’t look up from the ground, he just rummages through his deep coat pockets for his gun, only hearing the sounds of the wolf pulling the dagger out of it, the sounds of pain, the sounds of anger and furious running. It isn’t until Thomas has gun out and cocked to fire that he sees the creature almost on top of him, arm swinging to shoot it, not even caring about where he aimed...

Of course he expects teeth to be clamping down on his skull, claws buried deep into his abdomen, feeling blistering pain as he’s split in two. Of course, that’s always what you expect to happen when it comes too damn close like this. But he just feels the body land on top of him, slobber and blood smearing on his neck, and he stiffens, still waiting for anything. But then the body shrinks, fur revealing normal skin, feeling the snout on his arm shrink into a normal face, and Thomas lets out a deep sigh of relief. A laugh bubbles up from his throat after, even, and it echoes throughout the forest, as the limp body on top of him slowly begins to loose it’s warmth. 

It’s only when his adrenaline rush diminishes and the spike of pain from his right shoulder goes through him that he pushes the body off of him, gritting his teeth into a tight grin and sucking air through his teeth. He was a bit reckless there maybe, he thinks, gingerly touching the bleeding wound, hissing then letting out a forced chuckle, turning towards the body. “ You know, my niece is gonna freak when she--- ”

A pause. A long, strained, disbelieving pause. Glazed over eyes of the younger male stare back at him from where he laid beside him on the ground. Once brown, occasionally yellow, now almost seeming black and cloudy to show no life left within him.

He’s frozen in fear. This wasn’t the same monster he just killed, right? No way it was him. He’d know the kid anywhere.

Quickly flipping the body on its back and leaning against his good arm, he brushes long, black hairs from his face, then gingerly lifting the back of his bloodstained head. Pale and lifeless. Cold body not seeking any warmth from the worn out hoodie he wore.

“ Reynardine? ”

The grin is gone, replaced with a contorted, pained expression, slowly picking up the boy---suddenly just a boy in the hunter’s arms---, while the gunshot wound still bled out onto Thomas’s jeans, cradling him in a shaking grip. “ It’s not...I-I didn’t think......It c-couldn’t have been you, right? Th-This is some damn nightmare, r-right? Rey’s not dead, no, he isn’t... ” But his vibrating, colorless voice doesn’t convince him as he holds the boy close, not even noticing the tears pouring from his eyes until he’s trying to choke down sobs, burying his head into the nook of the boy’s neck. He really was just a boy, wasn’t he? Small, skinny, fragile, now with an icy touch...

                                              “ I-I’m so sorry, kid...I’m so fucking sorry... ”

It takes hours for Thomas to stop screaming and sobbing, telling the lord, telling Lillian, telling everyone he knew that he was so sorry; that he didn’t want to kill his boy, but life had a way of fucking good things up, didn’t it? It took even more time to pick himself off of his feet, carrying Rey in the break of dawn towards Matt’s Funeral Home. Matt never asked questions since he signed on to help Thomas’s hunting business, and that was the beauty spot of the business: when people never asked questions. But with Reynardine in his arms as he walked through the door, the mortician couldn’t help but stare in shock and ask; “ How did this happen, Tom? The poor boy... ”

The broken and downcast stare, fresh tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, shuts the man up instantly, though he didn’t even express his own sorrow as he directed the mourning man to the back and down the stairs to the morgue. The hunter stubbornly held onto the boy, refusing to sit down and get his arm sewn up until Rey was laid on a table, with Thomas’s chair rolled up next to where he could stare at him longer with his guilty gaze as his jacket was pulled off and wound was properly getting cleaned.

At about dawn, the silent operation, with barely any remorse or condolences given in between, was finally interrupted by the jingle of the man’s front door bell, little, muffled shouts making their way to the back and downstairs, before a polite knock sounded from the morgue door. “ Matthew? Are you in there? ” The worried yet sweet little voice makes Thomas stiffen; he knew she’d coming look for him, but he didn’t the guts to look the little girl in the eye while Rey was still freshly dead next to him and his wound was just freshly sewn shut. He didn’t want to tell her what happened yet. He just wanted to wake up from this damn nightmare already.

“ Yes, sweetie, I’m here! Don’t open the door; I’m doing my usual on your uncle’s victim. ” The sound of loud disgust from Lillian makes the mortician force a normal laugh, leaving Thomas’s stunned side with a forced smile on his face, opening and closing the door quickly, leaving the hunter alone with Rey in the big, quiet room. Leaving plenty of time for him to think.

The little girl had done as she was usually told. Stay in the bar, don’t go outside, don’t follow him on this one. Even though she rarely listened to the last part, always following him but then never being able to keep up with how fast he ran, the only reason she stayed was because of a special instruction her uncle left: call Matt to clean up the mess. So she did, with a disgruntled huff as she sat down in Thomas’s office chair and talked to the mortician, getting the stuff he required from the kitchen and then practically throwing it out the back door as soon as he arrived. She knew the smell of death by now, by both visiting the mortician all too often to walk an injured uncle home, and from stumbling on one too many horrific aftermaths of supernatural killings, but that still didn’t mean she was used to it. She despised it; smelling anything a bit similar made her stomach churn. 

She guessed that’s why she never liked following Thomas on his hunts; rather, she just saw it as something she had to do. Mostly to just make sure that her uncle was okay throughout the whole ordeal at the times when she could keep up with him, but also as a bit of a learning experience for the future. The little girl knew she’d have to learn all of this stuff and actually be able to go on hunts eventually, and she would have to know what to do, so following and taking in everything her uncle did was the next best thing. Still, she wasn’t looking forward to it. She knew she was more of a researcher and a preacher for peace, and even though she’d have to get her hands dirty in the future to get rid of the bad creatures of the night, seeing Thomas’s faded and fresh scars from delivering that justice frightened her. 

And the thought of dying for her job and her message was the thing that scared her most about the future. And it always made her worried when Thomas didn’t come home, because it made her think his time had finally come. 

So, after hours and hours of waiting, when Matthew had left and the light of morning was just lifting itself into the sky, way longer than she had waited before for her uncle, she went to the most logical place she could think of that would keep him for so long. Now, seeing the man open and close the morgue door so quickly makes her more nervous about the damage done to her uncle to make him stay in there for so long. But she doesn’t want to ask. Instead, she just asks the obvious.

“ I-Is Thomas in there? ”

“ Darling, where else would he be? ”

The sigh of relief that the little girl lets out as she slumps herself against the other wall in the tiny, downstairs corridor, along with the shudder in her breath, shows just how worried she truly was. Of course, she knows she’s already showed concern all over her face. She was such a bad liar to Thomas in that, and that’s the reason her uncle always gives for banning her from interrogations. 

Mortician Matthew laughs again as she relaxes and is at ease with his response, the young girl pouting and crossing her arms over her chest. “ Hey, you know I have a right to be worried. He was out all night chasing whatever was behind the bar down; didn’t come home once. ”

“ Well, he’s okay now. Just patched him up, but...well, he might want a bit of space with this one, kiddo. This was a tough one on him; really tired him out. The bar’s probably gonna be closed the whole day, too, so you should run home and tell staff--- ”

“ Is it that bad? ” Concern finds its way in her voice again as she interrupts him. Thomas almost never closed the bar due to an injury, whether it hurt like hell or not. He only did that when he and Lillian were traveling, or when something during the hunt causes him to get in a brooding, silent mood, and she’d only seen that when one of his regular friends at the bar died helping him against a group of vampires. The thought of him wanting to close the bar for the day meant more than likely the latter occurred, or maybe that Matthew just didn’t want him to work with the injury he had gotten from his hunt. Fear manifests in her mind, and before the mortician can really respond, she’s squirming past him and bursting through the morgue door to see her uncle.

Though, of course, seeing the figure of a dead man next to him makes her instinctively cover her eyes, not wanting to see what Matthew had already done to him as she shouted at her uncle. “ Thomas, a-are you okay? Matthew just said for me to close the bar today, b-but I wanted to talk about it with you first! ”

The silence that follows makes her tense, but the boots falling heavily on tile, followed by the warmth of her uncle embracing her gives her the answer she needs. Bringing her hands from her eyes, the little girl glances at the shaking man from the corner of her eyes, before sighing and wrapping her arms around him. She won’t ask about what happened; last time she did the man exploded on her, and then they both went to cry in their rooms. Not wanting that to happen again, she just turns and kisses her uncle on the cheek, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. “ It’ll be okay, uncle Thomas. You deserve to take a few days off, if you--- ”

“ No I don’t, sweetheart. I did something really bad last night, and I know you won’t forgive me for it. ” The way his voice quivered, and how strained and tired it sounded, made Lillian squeeze her uncle tighter, the fear within her intensifying as she blinks her eyes open and dares to ask: “ What happened? ”

Next thing she knows, her uncle is standing up, grabbing her hand, and dragging her towards the dead body on the table next to where he had sat. She looks nervously up at her uncle, not really sure who she would see or why she would need to see them. 

But she understands why when she lays eyes on him, and at once, she starts to wonder if this is all just a dream; that maybe she fell asleep while waiting for Thomas to come home. Nightmares plagued the girl often during times when she was extremely worried or scared, and waiting for Thomas to come back from a hunt always made her feel a bit of both, so maybe she was having one right now. 

With that childish hopefulness, the girl feels more surprised by the sight than anything else. But then she slowly grabs Rey’s hand, and then instantly she’s surrounded by the reality of the situation, gripping his hand tighter as his cold touch seeps into her skin, chilling her to the bone. Letting go of her uncle’s hand, she puts her other over her mouth to contain the waves of nausea that slowly start to go through her, legs starting to shake as she feels her strength leave her. Thomas’s words penetrate the air, and she strains to hears what he has to say in her shaken state. She expects that Rey had come back for something and tried to help Thomas when he saw that the man was in trouble. But that’s not what she hears at all. Listening to his quaking voice, filled with emotion, she hears the worst thing that her uncle could’ve said in that moment.

                                “ I didn’t know it was him, Lilli. I swear to god I didn’t know. ”

Then she glances at the dead man’s head, the bullet wound under his neck finally clicking in her mind, and then she’s having to lean on her arms to support herself while her knees start to buckle under her, though being so close to the body only makes her more upset, staring down into the vacant eyes her uncle didn’t close. This was her friend. Her best friend, even, and the man that Thomas had commented was just like family to them, now dead at the hands of the man she trusted most. The whimpers that she had started making turned into quiet sobs, tears finally streaming down her cheeks as she lays her head on the cold body, not caring anymore about the feel of it, just wanting him to spring back to life again and wrap his arms around her, to tell her everything was a lie. 

Her uncle doesn’t try to comfort her, and she doesn’t question it; as much as she wants comfort and someone to hold while she grieved, the little girl didn’t want it to be him. Because he was right. She wasn’t going to forgive him for this. A permanent scar on their relationship, and no matter how much it would heal, it would always still be there to haunt the both of them.

She hears Thomas’s boots stomp off and away from the morgue, up the stairs, then the ringing of the front door signals his exit. The little girl begins to cry louder, sobs turning into grieving screams into the Rey’s still chest then, even if the door wasn’t closed to give her complete solitude. Tugging at with her hands and soaking his clothes with her tears, she doesn’t even notice the mortician walking back into the room, until the scent of green tea catches her off guard. She jolts, wrapping both arms around Reynardine’s body, as if to protect it from the man, but he just stares silently down at her with a rare, pitiful glance, before walking away and closing the door behind him. Leaving the little girl alone to grieve, and think about a terrible future without him.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

turned my water into wine #2

see my masterpost for what came before this. this drabble takes place after some nights seem forever lasting and before the start of my fair lady. prompted by @ravendruid. inspired by @romeoandjulietyouwish's medieval au.

As soon as the frost thaws in the spring, the castle walls hardly ever see Keyleth. She spends as much of her day as she possibly can in the extensive gardens, readying the plants for their growing season. Zephrah has a whole team of royal gardeners, of course, whose entire job is to see to these gardens and ensure their successful growth, but Keyleth has never been content to let others do all the work. On a morning, she dresses in a plain brown dress and a pair of sturdy work boots, something entirely out of the norm for a princess, and trudges out into the still-chilly air to begin working. None of the gardeners seem to mind; in fact, each morning, when she checks in with Lillian, the head gardener, she gets an assignment for the day and accepts it without complaint or argument.

Throughout it all, Vax is her dependable shadow, following her from bed to bed as she aerates the soil for planting. Even though he is supposed to keep his hands free in case of attack, he usually ends up carrying her satchel of gardening tools, handing her whichever implement she needs as she asks for it.

The entire time, she talks, narrating what she's doing and working through complicated issues and encouraging the early buds not to grow too fast. She is relaxed here, hidden among the plants and mounds of dirt, far more than she ever is up in the castle. Vax wishes she could be here forever, if only to keep that easy smile on her face.

One late morning, she's checking on the snowdrops, which she tenderly planted back in fall ahead of their early spring bloom. The bulbs are brilliant white and full, and she beams with pride. "Look, Vax! They're doing so well!"

He'd told her, of course, back when she planted these, that snowdrops were his mother's favorite. He kneels beside her to inspect them. "They're gorgeous, Kiki. I'm so glad they made it."

"They're hardy," she says, gently brushing her fingers through the stalks. "Even the coldest winter can't keep them down."

Already there's weeds creeping in, so she digs her knees into the dirt and begins ripping them out. As she does, she's telling him all about these particular weeds, and why they're so important to keep ahead of, and what they can do to a plant when allowed to grow unchecked, but Vax hears none of it. Instead, his attention is consumed by the smudge of dirt on her cheek, an inch or so above her jawline. It moves as she talks, and Vax feels the overwhelming urge to reach out and stroke it from her skin.

The impulse is not eased by the way the sun overhead sets her hair ablaze, a thousand shades of orange and red interwoven into a mesmerizing sunset that cascades down her back. Her freckles, as numerous and dazzling as the stars, also flourish like wildflowers in the light, and when she reaches up to wipe the sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist, he worries he's going to make a terrible mistake right here in this garden.

"...and that's why dandelions truly have an unearned bad reputation, though I do understand the need to keep them from your flowerbeds—Vax, are you even listening to me?"

His smile comes easy. "No."

She's looking at him now, confused, but when she sees the intensity of his gaze, a hand flies up to her face self-consciously. "Is there something on me?"

Vax shoves down the crass answer that bubbles to the surface to say, "You are perfect, in every way that a person could be perfect."

Her skin, already warm from the sun overhead, reddens further. "Be careful, Vax. Ears are always closer than you think."

"Then I suppose I ought not tell you how desperately I wish to kiss you right now."

She brings her bottom lip between her teeth and forces herself to look back down at her work. "You are incorrigible. I thought you were the more sensible of the two of us, honestly."

He hums. "I believe sensible flew out the window the night I brought you through the catacombs to the guest wing of the castle."

Her cheeks are now redder than poppies. "You—I—honestly."

Under the guise of digging through her satchel of tools, Vax slips a hand over to brush teasingly at the sliver of exposed skin just above her boot, enjoys the small shudder he earns from her. "Perhaps we have spent enough time out of doors." He pauses, letting his meaning sink in. "Perhaps we might otherwise entertain ourselves inside."

Keyleth's eyes slide closed, and he watches her quickly lose a fight against herself. "But...the flowers..."

"Of course, Your Highness." His fingers slip away to rummage through her satchel again. "The flowers."

She lets out a low, frustrated groan and shoves herself to her feet. "You are a menace. We are going to the castle now before my better sense catches up to me."

She strides off, and Vax has to scramble to ensure she does not get too far ahead, grinning at his unbelievable success.

[retconned-royalty]

[ FIVE CONFESSIONS ]  send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.

FIVE TIMES Drabble Prompt

Love wasn't what they grew up with. A man loved a woman, whether it was his mother, his sister, or his wife - but Love was not what you showed your boys. This was a value Giuseppe was raised with and how he raised his sons. A mother's love was meant to be like none other, but Lillian failed in all aspects of this quality, cold and aloof, clearly having wished for a girl so she might show the barest of affections.  All she had were two hellions. No matter how well they behaved, that's what she saw. 

Damon might have loved his little brother when they were kids, it came through in the form of looking looking out for him, taking the brunt of their father's wrath whenever possible. Taking the fall for things they'd both had a hand in. Paving the way for Stefan to be the golden child. Damon might have hated his brother after they were turned, tormented him, attempted to push the pain he'd felt all his life onto his little brother. It's just not all black and white.

I love you, he almost said, when Stefan 10 years old and crying because he'd broken a window, instead he said "I'll tell dad it was me." 

I love you, he almost said, when it was time to leave for the war and Stefan was worried about him in that boyish quiet way. Instead he said, "I'll be back, promise." 

I love you, he almost said when Stefan was gorging himself on locals and was going to get them both caught. Instead he pleaded with his brother to change his behavior. Instead he left, when it hurt too much to look at the man Stefan had become. 

I love him, he almost said, when he sought out Lexi that second time Stefan fell off the wagon. Instead he said, "He needs help." 

I love you, he almost said, when after decades of fighting he finally stood with his brother against an evil threatening a girl they both loved. Instead he said, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." 

When it was all over and there was no turning back. When happiness was almost in his grasp but he just didn't get to have it all. When he knew his life would lose the meaning he worked so hard to build. When eternity finally looked like a gift instead of a curse and the universe laughed at him. 

"I love you, little brother," he said as he looked into Stefan's eyes, a man who was about to die. 

[gyubby99]

@disneyanddisneyships short drabble because.

One, two, three, four, five, six...

Seven, eight, nine...

Seven, eight, nine..

Seven, eight..

...nine.

Aponi stared off into the distance, not a single thought in her mind that involved events from a few days ago. The bags in her eyes contrasted the paleness of her skin, the bright orange in her eyes faded into dull and monotone ones as her gaze fell upon nothingness.

A cold, unusual day in hell. No one was ever happy in where they ended up falling down from grace. An oasis of pain, misery and suffering clouding every inch, every corner of this damned place. No one was happy.

But for a moment, Aponi wings was.

Just for one brief moment, she felt the feeling of her colors lighting up. Her laughter filling the air of the sinister atmosphere, and her smile reached from ear-to-ear you knew that a radiostar had competition.

Just for one brief moment despite ending up in hell, Aponi Wings was happy.

Lillian Carlton was happy.

Now the smile turned into an expressionless thin line. The laughter died down as the tears came flooding every corner of hell it could reach. The wings stopped flapping, the butterfly fell onto the ground. Now her gaze had nothing but emptiness.. there was not a single ounce of joy, pleasure, and delight whenever her eyes glanced anywhere but only one direction.

For her happiness was just for one brief moment.

For her son.. her Theodore..

Was dead.

"Lilly.." Mal held Aponi's hand, a soft gentle brush emitting from the firefly demon's skin. Gentle. Like cradling a lost child in the woods. Her semi-bright yellow eyes fell onto her friend's miserable figure.

They'd been sitting in silence for quite a while, and Mal never minded. If it was silence Aponi wished for, then Mal wouldn't think twice to be silent with her.

Aponi felt a strange sensation in her the moment Mal had held her hand. The way she brushed it against hers felt like she was given the keys to an invisible cage. Non-existent yet unescapable.

The butterfly demon's lips quivered as she spoke through the silence. "If someone had lost their spouse.. they're called a widow.. or a widower.."

Mal perked her head up at the random words, before taking them in and letting her speak. She was just glad she spoke through the uncomfortable yet.. peaceful silence. It is hard for someone to process anything if something ill-fated happened to them.. but give it a few days-- give it time, no matter how long.. it will find its way to come out.. and when it does, it slowly does so.

And when it does, a new dawn is found. But like the rising of the sun, they rise slowly.

"..and when a child loses their parents.. they're called orphans." Aponi continued.

Mal looks down a bit with empathy inside of her. Her thumb stroked the back of her friend's hand, a gentle brush to know she was there. She had always been there.

"But.. when a mother loses a child.. what do you call that?" Aponi asks, the question merely being one, and the answer lies within her. She shook her head, tears brimming her eyes as the lump on her throat comes back like an old friend. "There's no name for that.."

Aponi took a breath, a deep, sharp, shaky breath as she licked her dry lips. The love of her death flashed through her mind as she felt a tight squeeze in her chest.. suffocating her. "Because no words could ever be enough to describe the pain a mother feels when they've lost their child.."

Mal pulled Aponi close, and that was all she needed before she broke into another puddle of tears.

For a brief moment, Aponi Wings was happy. For the reason that she brought that child into the world albeit a cruel one. That she got to see him look up at her eyes and smile, a smile not even Lucifer himself could ever resist. She brought a heart so pure into a world so vicious, and to have him call her his mother had been the greatest pride of all. She was a flawed mother, but she knew she raised that boy right. She raised that boy. Despite death she had the ability to be exhausted, but those golden eyes wished them all away, and how is she to go on without them?

Not even she knew what he felt the moment that bullet went straight to him. Will his father still be proud? Will his mother forgive him? Had he defended his father's name well enough, or had he wasted everything? Questions rummaged through her mind like streams of water continuously running in circles inside her head.

No words could describe what Aponi Wings felt. Not even a writer's skilled pen or a philosopher's great mind could ever posses the ability to put everything into words, because it is entirely impossible. It is not something so easily written.

But it is certain that for a brief moment she held him in her arms..

She was happy.

Aponi Wings was happy.

[ao3feed-supercorp]

The Charge

by Cymberlea

A brief "ficlet"/drabble taking place in season 6 episode 19 "The Last Gauntlet" after Lillian steps in to sacrifice herself for Lex. It's my take on what happened in the moments after Lillian is blasted with the All Stone and Kara and Alex step out of the elevator announcing that Lillian is stable and Lena's with her. I had this idea of what if, in those few moments, Lillian reached out to Kara.

Words: 4240, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Alex Danvers, J'onn J'onzz | Hank Henshaw, Lex Luthor, Nyxlygsptlnz (DCU), Nia Nal

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: SuperCorp Sunday, SuperCorp

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