#no one she's met has any stone sense

[faejilly]

This is Finna, btw.

And her continuing adventures!

-

Go climb a tower that's crawling with darkspawn, which is, after all, what darkspawn do, (crawl over everything), but apparently everyone else thinks they shouldn't be there.

(Surfacers are dumb)

almost die, get rescued by Weird Witches (possibly for the second time, really, considering they're the ones that found the treaties the first time?) and have one of them insist you adopt the other one

(you haven't adopted anyone since Leske, this is kind of nice actually)

Find out the Surfacers can't even follow their OWN war plans, almost everyone's dead, the horde's just wandering around doing whatever the fuck it wants, and Alistair is barely more of a Grey Warden than you are and doesn't actually know anything useful about how they do shit and thus needs you to adopt him too because he's a little overwhelmed.

(Honestly, that's kind of fair, if Duncan hadn't been there when you first left Orzammar you would have gotten eaten by a bear or something. At least you and Alistair didn't hit the 'lost everything and everyone and am very confused about the world' at the same time?)

So. Understandable, but it is not ideal, darkspawn suck and archdemons are terrifying and you have no idea how anything works but you're in charge now!

Which is The Ultimate Surfacer Nonsense, but whatever, at least you can ignore most of the stupid and focus on killing darkspawn which is the whole reason Orzammar let the Grey Wardens recruit you, so.

So.

Follow Morrigan and Alistair around because they at least know how to navigate above ground even if they're cranky about navigating together.

GET A PUPPY! Maybe Surface Shit Isn't All Stupid. The Dog Is Cool. You named him Runar.

Get to human town to regroup. Find stupid bandits and run them off. (Who tries to steal from the people who don't have anything? even the Carta doesn't steal from Dusters, that's just DUMB) This is apparently a good move, all the humans are pleased.

Find stupid merchant who is ALSO trying to steal from the people who don't have anything what the hell Surfacers aren't even good criminals, this is so exhausting. He leaves in a huff, you suppose one of these days you should figure out how to talk to people rather than just sighing and rolling your eyes at them because they're stupid, but historically you were just supposed to hit them, so this is not your usual skill set, and you really don't want to talk to people so maybe you'll just go back to stabbing them?

You found a very nice fancy dagger after all, might as well use it.

Meet a giant in a cage who apparently got locked up for murder, but come on now, who among us hasn't done that? And he's been there for ages and is still alive which seems useful when fighting Darkspawn, so you let him out & adopt him too so he can help.

He is pretty insulting about it, but he's still nicer than most of Orzammar was to dusters, so whatever. And it's clearly not personal, he likes insulting everyone even more than Morrigan likes insulting Alistair, so you don't care.

Adopt a weird chantry lady too, because she also seems to be good at the fighting people, even if she let Loghain's idiots run away. (To be fair, you let the stupid bandits run away an hour ago, so it's not like you're one to talk. You can't kill all the stupid people, there'd be no one left.) She is also batshit crazy, but again. That's kind of comfortingly familiar, no one who worked for Beraht was quiet or sane about much of anything.

Help some humans out, (and some dwarves! that was nice) because they are really bad at this being surrounded by darkspawn thing and it's kind of adorable.

Also when they like you they give you shit, and you're not about to turn down anything that might be helpful. (See above and adopting all the crazy surfacers.)

Kill more bandits and giant spiders and wolves and darkspawn again and even more dumb humans who did not learn from seeing all the OTHER people who tried and failed to kill you and thought they'd get a reward out of it, and none of this is changing your mind that Surfacers make things way too complicated and are also (even at their best) kind-of dumb.

But still.

You're not dead! You have some help! You own more shit than you ever did in Dust Town!

You have a dog.

(The dog's still the best part. And the only one with sense.)

Your barbarian mace with an extra stabby bit in the hilt is pretty nice too though.

Be a duster, don't even have a name really, not as dwarves count such things, kill a guy, find a drunk guy, panic, fight some more guys (just trying not to get killed by your boss), boss tries to kill you anyway, leave your sister and best friend behind in the dust because they told you to, (and it's that or die, honestly, and you're not ready for that), get to Ostagar, meet a KING?!?, there's a fucking view with sky and distant trees and this is IMPOSSIBLE, you miss the fucking STONE and then some very very random nobody is all, "Maker watch over you, my lady"

Apparently you're a lady

what the actual fuck, Brosca's life is very weird

[sleep-0-deprived]

Gyomei Himejima x Male Reader who's a demon who was rehabilitated by Tamayo and one day met Gyomei and it was like love at first sight? And M/N has like a rope/belt like power similar to Daki's? And they wanna experiment with that?🤭

Experiments~ (Gyomei Himijima x demon male reader)~ ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

WC:. 2.2k

Tags binding, praises riding, no protection, soft sex (firm believer in Gyomei being a gentle giant), anal sex, size differences, belly bulging, creampies ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

A/N I’ve never written for a blind character so please excuse any errors! Sorry it took so long to write I hope you enjoy though <33

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You were a demon. You favored Nezuko and Tamayo in the fact you didn’t follow nor submit to Muzan’s cruel plans and you still kept contact with your human side. That was what led you to meeting lady Tamayo and by default she managed to rehabilitate you over time. You eventually make yourself known to the core, wanting to help the greater cause by fighting against muzan and his demons with them.

The demon slayer corp didn’t trust you at all at first, I mean why would a demon of high status, no- one of Muzan’s most loyal switch sides and come to them and offer himself over?…well you did and master thought the only person fit to handle and keep tabs on you was none other than the stone Hashira Gyomei.

You were forced to stay in the stone estate with Gyomei, and occasionally Genya when he stopped by. Genya was more accepting of you than Gyomei at first being that Genya’s fighting style was him temporarily turning into a demon he was understanding

Genya was more open to the thought not all demons were bad. Gyomei on the other hand was still skeptical keeping his senses strong listening to you at night walking around the estate.

Gyomei would sense your blood demon art at night, he’d expect you to sneak off maybe hunt for food or run back to your master but you never did. You would use your blood demon art to grab things doing the most laziest things with them like opening doors grabbing a pillow that was too far out of reach,

he could tell what you were doing by the sounds of your belts and pillows ruffling. The large man might not have any sight but his other senses were heightened in every way.

Slowly over the months he’d ease his guard and stop holding his body ready like you were about to betray the core, he’d even swoon for you almost when he first heard your voice it made him question if you were really a demon because you sounded just like an angel to him.

Sadly your scent betrayed you showing to him you really were the demon that did such horrific crimes. The rehabilitation brought you close to Gyomei, and you spent most of your days together in the empty estate.

Present day the two of you have been together going close to a month and shockingly you two do have sex, one might think a religious and traditional man like Gyomei would wait for sex until marriage but nothing about his relationship with you was traditional I mean you were a demon and the two of you were both men but he didn’t seem to care.

“I’m bored Gyo?” You’d grumble all sprawled around in his lap like you were a king on a tanned flesh throne “must you lay like that on me [name]?” He’d sigh just reaching one hand down firm on your hip, his voice holding no true disdain having you in his lap

“yes I must!…and you know we could always pass time in other ways Gyomei?” You’d lean close standing on your knees in his lap now leaning into his ear whispering using your thumb to wipe the tears running down his cheeks with his eyes open glossed over as always unblinking and pale white.

“Always insisting sinful things to me, you really can be a from [name] pulling me into temptations with your binds..”his slightly red beneath his skin tracing his hands to your waistband with you straddling his lap in his room of the stone estate.

“Speaking of my binds….wanna use mine on you when you’re stretching me out. Bind you against me skin to skin while I ride you” you speak shamelessly nearly confident in his lap but he was totally flabbergasted, his body tense you could see red on the tips of his ears with a few hot tears pricking back down his cheek right where your thumb pressed wiping his cheek off again.

His large hands felt your pants around tracing and guiding them to the zipper making due with his lack of sight while you on the other hand let go of his cheek taking your hand down to his pants undoing his fly as he sits under you. With your belts coming out of your back wrapping around his waistband pulling them off softly before turning to blades cutting his boxers up to get his cock out

“you are such an eager demon [name]” his voice rang in the cool night of the estate with his cock hard pressed to his shirt with a pearl like bead of pre cum sitting on his tip, clearly sensitive pulsing eager for touch— which you were happy to give.

“You’re eager too Gyomei, don’t bother telling me different I feel it” you murmur retracting your binds for a moment to Scoot closer lifting your shirt over your head with your cock springing free when he can finally get your boxers off.

You crawl further in his lap sitting down on his cock with it pressed between your cheeks reaching above your crack making a sticky mess in your laps

“always feel so good, boy” he groans grabbing your hips with his teary eyes white and wide as always grinding his cock between your cheeks easily lifting you around like a boy toy in his lap making your binds react wrapping around his back tearing through his haori leaving marks in his skin unintentionally.

“Shit- didn’t mean to Gyo—“ you let out a sharp gasp hushed by him taking one hand off your hip keeping you firmly pressed to his cock reaching his hand up to the back of your head and shoving your face upwards leaning down eagerly kissing you into silence “it’s fine, not worried about it [name]”

He murmurs his tongue pushing past your lips into your mouth running against your cheeks pressing to your tongue making you huff using your binds to fully get his haori and shirt off with the sound of his golden buttons hitting the floor with your chest pressed to his leaving your cock weeping between your thighs pressing all leaky between your stomachs.

“Prep me already gyo..” you muffle out guiding his hand off your hip pulling your mouth off of his panting trying to catch your breadth before shoving two of his fingers down your throat “so warm baby” he speaks his teary face all red and flushed at the lewdly of what was happening with him only being sad his prayer beads weren’t around we hike his cock throbs between your cheeks producing more precum.

“I’m going, be patient or you aren’t getting anything but your own fingers” he finally broke away with a string of saliva his voice booming making a shiver run down your spine pouting pressing more to him feeling his large hand snake out of your mouth using the hand on your hip to lift you off his lap enough to push one finger inside you.

“Hm, you can’t do that to me” you shriek a little panicking with your rim puckering staying still in attempt to adjust to the feeling looking up at the blind Hashira with your binds all sharp and from wrapped around his muscular back holding his larger body to yours while your jaw slacks a little feeling him thrusting his finger in and out massaging your walls curling against your prostate before trying to prod his second finger in you.

“I can, and I will if you don’t get it together in my lap” he hums now scissoring your rim open using the mix of spit on his fingers and precum from where his cock rested between your cheeks to open you up. His fingers rub against your bundle of nerves building up a hot pit in your stomach and you think he knew that too because right as your cock perked up against his stomach he pulled his fingers back out.

“Want you to cum from me, need to know my cock was what pushed you over” his hands trail lifting you up by your hips making your binds lose grip on his back with your hands holding his muscular shoulders while he nudges his cock head against your rim. “Feels like you’re ripping me in half Gyo~” your air fled your lungs leaving you exhaling harshly feeling a burn shoot through your body but any tears quickly heal from your regeneration sealing yourself around him bottoming out inside you leaving a outline in your stomach.

“I bet you look so beautiful sitting on me like this, wish I could see your body. I’d kiss it up in every way” his large arms move on your body grabbing around your waist holding you slowly starting to jerk his hips upwards from beneath you making your rim stretch further and engulf his full length feeling his balls pressed firmly to your cheeks while you dig your nails into his shoulders straddling his large lap.

“I- know you would gyo-mei~” you squeak out, your muscles tensing reaching forward kissing him nearly eating his face off moving your lips against his slipping your hand off his shoulder wrapping around the back of his neck with your binds all slithered around the two of you holding you two skin to skin. His hands hold onto hour hips bouncing you in time with his movements with your thighs on either sides of his hips filling the room with small plap’s of your asscheeks smushing to his balls getting stretched with your cock bobbing back and forth tapping your stomach with your tip an angry red.

“Mh- [name] you’re clenching me so tight, boy” a soft strained sigh leaves his lips starting to pick his pace up holding your hips down firmly groaning against your lips pulling back only to suck in air before smushing his lips back on yours rutting his hips upwards driving into you with his cock stretching you out, his veins dragging along your inner walls while you hold your arms around his neck pulling your mouth off his and shoving his face in your pecs gripping his black hair.

“Just suck em” you moan your Adam’s apple bobbing like your cock while your binds dig at the skin in his back leaving marks from how tight you hold him to you. Gyomei’s cock pushing and nudging into your sweet spot over and over practically bullying your prostate making you feel its pulse while his face buries into your pecs biting at one of your nipples rotating between sucking and biting with his tears dampening your s/c skin.

“I can tell you’re getting close [name], you’re clenching up more- cum for me baby” he murmurs pressing sloppy kisses over your perked up buds holding your hips tighter making the bulge in your tummy bigger feeling a burning pain build up inside you from being fucked and spread open on him so long. One hand in Gyomei’s hair and the other holding his shoulder firm rocking your hips downwards into his thrusts trying your hardest to feel him deeper and deeper inside you with your belts tightening even more erupting a moan from the larger man.

“Oh fuck-oh I’m gonna—! I’m cumming~!” You mewl out shoving his face in your pecs harder arching your back up straight with your hips rolling erratically clenching and clamping as tight as you can around him breaking his skin with your other hand digging nails in his shoulder with your cock stiffening nearly jumping forward shooting sperm in its own groaning dropping your head forward on top of his when your cock shots a final rope of cum onto his stomach.

“That’s a good boy, gonna make me cum won’t you?” His chin resting on your rib cage blowing on your sensitive peaks rocking his hips forwards into you slowing down going in deeper and longer thrusts trying to let your rim milk him while he hits his own climax, the muscles under your hand tensing up letting you know the fire in his loin is bursting hot feeling the first spurt enter you making you shiver your eyes half lidded getting filled up.

“So warm” you coo out in his lap feeling your bulging tummy bloat up some with your binds slowly loosing around him letting him go as they retract back inside your back with your regeneration healing up your once broken skin. “Did I go over board [name]?.. how are you feeling?” He’d murmur lifting his head from your chest with a serious expression on his face needing to hear your verbal words not being able to see your reaction.

His tears flow freely down his cheeks making you sigh in his lap reaching your hand up from his hair and off his shoulder wiping his cheeks mumbling “I’m great Gyo, you were great.” Leaning in with a kiss on his cheek sitting still on his cock letting out a little hiss when you lift yourself off his cock feeling his semen slipping from your now loosened rim leaving your cheeks all slick when he grabs your waist and lays back pulling you right on top of his chest holding you laying on his mat in his personal bedroom of the stone estate letting you pull a blanket up.

“In the morning I’ll make sure to draw you a bath inside the estate, I know your beautiful skin is sensitive to the sunlight” he spoke in a soft tone to you holding you to him in a comfortingly tight regard rubbing at the back of your head and if it wasn’t for you being a demon he’d personally take you to the saunas but he knew that wasn’t possible with your inability to stand in the sun, doesn’t mean he still won’t give you the great aftercare you deserve.

[kamaluhkhan]

anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

[sleepymarimo]

toji x fem!reader // sfw! a little meet cute moment with some sprinkles of sadness synopsis: reader cleans and maintains abandoned graves, including that of toji's late wife.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t visit his late wife’s grave often, if ever.

it’s easy to say that it’s because he doesn’t care, that he’s lost all respect for the world and those on, or buried beneath it. yet, the reality is that he’s ashamed, a bit of a coward. how could he face her again? how could he read the letters of her name knowing he’d been unable to grant the one request she’d given him? take care of megumi.

he doesn’t know why he’s walking in the direction of the cemetery, an old, surely run down patch of land that’s now nestled between some homes just outside of shinjuku.

maybe the weight of his most recent job gets to him. maybe it’s nearing what would’ve been their anniversary. maybe the weather reminds him of her funeral, in which him and baby megumi were the only attendees.

a rock gets kicked a good few meters away as he remembers that day. her family had cut her off after she’d married him, seeing nothing good coming out of their future, feeling disdain at the mention of their daughter marrying man with not a thing to his name. toji scoffs. perhaps they were right.

the overcast sky does nothing for the scenery ahead, which consists of old, rusted cemetery gates and a wall made of dull, greyed stones.

however, a splash of color stands out against the monochrome background. it’s all instinct, the way his senses hone in, but it’s not because you’re the only other person in the cemetery, not because your colored scarf makes you particularly identifiable.

no, it’s because you, a stranger, are standing in front of his wife’s grave.

despite the numerous leaves on the ground, the rather quiet environment, you don’t hear him approach.

you’re focused on your task, your brows ever so slightly knitted, a bristly brush in your hand which you use to scrub away at any debris wedged between the letters of this grave. dust, mud, leaf litter… it gets removed with each gentle movement.

a bottle of cleaner is in your other hand, spraying the stone every now and then when it gets too dry or when a particularly stubborn piece of debris refuses to be erased from existence.

one little stain catches your attention, so much so that you ignore how the autumn wind nips at your cheeks. it’s just about removed. a little more, a little more…

“what are y’doing?”

a small gasp leaves you, or maybe you choke on air, and your hands retract from the gravestone as if you’d been burned. you take a couple of steps back, a natural response, wanting to put some distance between you and whoever else has decided to join you in the cemetery.

the sudden move results in you kicking over your coffee cup, your mind a mess as you crouch down and keep it from spilling any further. you put your tools away, too, placing the brush and spray bottle into a tote containing a few other items.

toji doesn’t mean to intimidate or scare you.

it’s just… how he is. it’s in the energy he carries, how he presents himself to the world that’s done him more harm than good. he’s suspicious of you, reasonably so.

when you finally stand and look up at him, he can see the anticipation in your eyes. your hands fidget, unsure of whether to retreat into your pockets or rise in self defense.

“i’m so sorry,” are your immediate words, sincere. “i didn’t know she had visitors.”

she.

why are you talking about her like you were a part of her life? toji is sure he’s never met you before. he doesn’t remember his late wife saying a thing about weirdos who hang out in cemeteries, either.

those green eyes of his narrow, just a bit. he doesn’t have to say anything more, his stance is enough. you haven’t answered his question and he isn’t going to ask again.

“i, um, clean graves,” you answer after a few heartbeats, a little put off by his stare. “i’ve been coming by for the past year, clean up every month or two. i usually wait and make sure no one comes by. i thought it was abandoned, i’m so sorry.”

the situation isn’t entirely new to you. it’s not the first time you’d been ‘caught’, and the reactions you’ve gotten have ranged from grateful to furious, but it’s jarring each time. how could it not be? you’re not a fool, you know these people meant something to someone, that they represent more than the headstones ever could.

your eyes remain on his, equal parts apologetic and bashful, clearly genuine.

toji’s posture relaxes, just a bit.

a part of that has to do with the smidge of guilt he feels. abandoned. he couldn’t be surprised. after all, he never visited, never paid for cleaning services.

perhaps a normal person would say thank you, but the words fizzle out on his tongue. he’s not one for such words, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

“it’s fine,” he ends up saying, curt, to the point, not giving away the extent of what he’s thinking or feeling.

even those two words have you feeling relieved, a long sigh leaving your lips. you can’t deny that you’re itching to leave, still a little unnerved. being alone with a strange man in a cemetery isn’t exactly on your bucket list, so you reluctantly reach down and grab your things.

your bag gets slung over your shoulder, but your coffee… well, you’re pretty much left with an empty cup now. the liquid had spilt all over the concrete floor when he’d spooked you earlier.

“i’ll leave her alone,” you promise him, truly not looking to cause any conflict. “sorry again…”

for a second, toji considers leaving it at that.

his eyes drift from you to your empty cup. he should feel bad, should be a decent person, but can’t find it in himself to reassure you.

he needs a nudge, and that nudge is given to him in the form of an acorn falling from the tree rooted over his wife’s grave.

the small object hits him right on the head, reprimanding him for his actions. toji grunts, his hand coming up to rub at the spot where the damn thing whacked him. he should’ve sensed it, should’ve been aware of its existence as soon as it snapped off the branch.

his eyes look up toward the sky, almost glaring, and for a second he can almost hear her voice, scolding him.

“don’t be mean, toji!”

with a click of his tongue, he looks back at you. you, who’d taken care of his wife in death as he’d cared for her in life.

inhaling, he decides to screw it all and take a step toward you. maybe being a decent human wouldn’t kill him. maybe.

“look, i didn’t mean to freak you out or make you spill your drink,” it’s the closest thing to an apology he’ll give, but it’s better than nothing.

he recognizes the logo on your cup, then nods his head toward the cemetery gates. “let me at least buy you a new one,” he offers, though by the sound of it, it’s quite clear he wants to do this for you. “what’s your name, anyway?”

you tell him, then he gives you his.

the sun starts to burn away at the clouds, warming the earth just as you’re about to leave the cemetery. things grow a little brighter, a whole shift in the atmosphere.

toji doesn’t comment on the gust of wind ushering you two out of the gates, the rustle of leaves which could pass as a hushed cheer. no, he won’t say anything, not even if the breeze on his back feels like the hands of his late wife, pushing him toward something new.

his eyes flicker down, watching you, noting the curve of your cheeks and the slope of your nose. he shakes his head, steels his heart, ignoring the small jump it does as you look back at him.

no, he won’t say anything, not at all.

[goldsbitch]

Past lives

Charles Leclerc is opening an ice-cream shop...And nobody knows why.

romantic, soulmate au, one shot, short

"Past lives couldn't ever hold me down Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found I've got the strangest feeling This isn't our first time around" - Past Lives, Børns

It's the little things that resonate for no apparent reason.

The fact he would always lean towards a perfume with bergamot undertones - because ages ago, the love of his life was obsessed with bergamot tea.

The fact she would have the windows open at any possible occasion - because in her past, she and the love of her life lived in a small house at the top of a windy hill.

The fact he hated alcohol, because in one their lifetimes, the love of his life drowned her sorrows a little too often and lost herself in it.

The fact she could not watch war time movies, because in one of their past lives he died tragically, and a little too early for them to build a proper life together.

They did not get to meet in each life. But when they did, it was one for the history books. Not the ones about grandiose, history changing events, but the little sweet ones, usually to be found at the back of the antique bookstores. The mundane miracles that are hard to describe to the unlucky ones, who do not get to experience them. Some of them end up with a happy end, some of them with the biggest life lessons human soul can swallow.

It's the strange feeling of "I belong here" or "I think this will taste good". Why? Because you had seen it in the past, because you had been there in a different life time.

Fate plays a funny little game. Has one and their soulmate born just in time for them to be able to find each other, but likes to put obstacles in between. Distance, social barriers, conflicting dreams.

This kind of love leaves traces around the history. Songs, poems, buildings and initials carved into stones and benches. Wedding rings passed on in families and eventually sold once everyone has forgotten. Portraits of unknown faces and photos found at the bottom of old wardrobes. The ancient piping in an old house that still works because he built it for her to live in.

The soul keeps a memory, unreachable to the simple mind of the body, as it travelled from one lifetime to another.

That's how she found herself staring at a random, actually not that important, painting hung in a gallery exhibition dedicated to landscapes from the romantic era. She wasn't exactly a galleries type of person, but a girls trip to Paris had to include something more than parties and shopping. She stood there for good five minutes, totally mesmerised by a painting that did not particularly stood out from the rest. Little did she know that the silhouette standing in the field was one of her past self and that the painting had been done by her soulmate in one of their luckier past lives. It was like she could smell the summer weeds growing, hear the ground under her feet and understood what the author wanted to capture. And he was successful enough to capture the attention of his love throughout centuries once again. As her friends dragged her away to end their artsy part of their trip, she made sure to mark the name of the artist.

For some inexplicable reason, Charles Leclerc, in this life a racing driver, was opening an ice cream shop in in Milan. It probably would have made more sense to everyone, himself included, if he'd known that in one of their luckier past lives, he and his soulmate met in a small café in that city, few decades before that. He would come in one day, order an ice-cream and then did not stop coming until he managed to charm her.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [12]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 11 | Fic Masterlist | Part 13

Prince Yeosang.

The fourth son born to the King and Queen of Joseon, was among the most widely recognised princes in the nation, though not for reasons one might consider positive. Unlike his numerous brothers and sisters, he adamantly resisted marriage despite reaching a suitable age.

But of course, his singledom was not the main reason for the constant chatter about him. The real cause for the heightened attention was the prominent birthmark beside his left eye.

In Joseon, beauty held immense significance, particularly for members of the royal family, who were deemed superior and held to higher standards than the commoners. Consequently, the prince's distinctive mark marked him as an anomaly within the royal lineage.

Throughout his life, Yeosang had been accustomed to the constant scrutiny that came with being perceived as a defect. From what he understood, even his own parents had reacted with alarm upon witnessing the sizable red birthmark on the side of his face when he was born. In reality, the mark didn't diminish his attractiveness, but societal taboos surrounding such markings led people to overlook his overall appeal and fixate solely on the spot.

As a result, he rejected all marriage proposals, having observed the disdainful glances directed at him by potential candidates. The thought of being wedded to someone who did not genuinely appreciate him was unappealing. Besides, he loathed the constant parade of pampered girls presented to him annually.

He would prefer to remain alone for the rest of his life than be tied down to any of those brats. Having always believed that no one could ever empathise with the pain of having such a mark on their face, he was more than astonished to discover you proudly displaying your scar. What's more, you stood in stark contrast to any of the snobbish noblewomen he had met.

It was when he was evading his many princely obligations meant to prepare him for the throne, despite being fourth in line, that he unexpectedly came across you, the beautiful stranger, while seeking a brief escape in the garden. For the first time in a long while, his heart quickened as he approached you, fearing he might lose sight of your enchanting presence.

"Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang." As if sensing his intentions, the servant standing beside you quickly clarified your identity.

However, if she thought this revelation would dissuade the fourth prince, she was sorely mistaken as Yeosang only smiled wider. So, you were the famous Miss Jang, currently the talk of the town. Knowing that you were here only to discuss wedding arrangements, he deduced that you and the general were not yet properly wedded.

That meant not all hope was lost for him.

Your eyes widened at Eunsook's words, the realisation sinking in that you were in the presence of a prince. Without wasting another second, you performed the formal bow you had practised countless times with the head maid before visiting the palace. Greeting the prince respectfully, you maintained the poise and grace befitting your status as the general's wife, "It is my greatest honour to be in your presence, Your Highness. Forgive this humble subject for failing to recognise you."

Up close, Yeosang's admiration for you only intensified. The genuine respect you demonstrated meant more to him than you would ever know. The prince had rarely been shown sincerity, and he knew then that he was right about your purity. Unlike any other noblewoman, you didn't eye him with even the slightest hint of disgust.

She's the one.

"Please rise, Miss Jang. It is quite alright; no harm is done. If anything, it feels very refreshing not to be recognised in an instant." He extended a hand to assist you, gently lifting you from your bow. Your eyes widened in wonder, and you offered him a grateful smile, not recalling Eunsook mentioning this part of the greeting.

Meanwhile, the head maid was in a state of panic, realising that the prince seemed interested in you. He had disregarded your title as Lady Park and had taken the opportunity to be close to you. Seonghwa would not be pleased if he found out.

"I'll be honest, I have yet to meet anyone who adores flowers as much as I do. It's almost as if fate brought us together." Yeosang said, chuckling as he took in your eyes sparkling with sincere enthusiasm. You seemed innocently happy just to make a new friend.

How precious.

"Would you care to take a stroll with me, my lady? I know of a perfect spot with a view that surpasses even this one."

Eunsook's stomach sank as you agreed to his invitation. It wasn't that she blamed you for being unfaithful to her master; she knew you were simply too clueless to see through the prince's intentions. Her concern was for the potential aftermath of the situation – what would happen if the general were to learn about Yeosang's interest in you and your willingness to spend time with him.

In another part of the palace at the War and Strategy Department building, the atmosphere was the furthest thing from peaceful as the words spoken by His Majesty weighed heavily on your husband's heart, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."

Seonghwa sank into one of the chairs, his eyes blinking rapidly as he absorbed the weight of the words just spoken, "War...? H-how serious is the situation? And why haven't I been informed about the strained relations with Ruhon?"

San, taking a seat beside him, sighed and responded, "We've been attempting peace negotiations with them for months, but an agreement seems elusive. They've been making unreasonable demands. We didn't want to burden you with any of this at first, we wanted you to focus on your new marriage. But the situation has escalated, and it appears we're left with no choice but to prepare for the worst."

The King continued with a heavy heart, "Unfortunately, despite our efforts, we haven't been able to reach an agreement with Ruhon regarding their latest demands. They are now threatening to settle matters through force. We must start preparing and strategising immediately; their attack could come at any time."

The implications of the impending conflict raced through your husband's mind, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. The realisation that he would have to lead the army into battle overshadowed the joy of his recent marriage. Just when he thought things were finally looking up for the two of you, the looming threat of war cast a dark shadow over your lives.

He pressed a hand against his head, eyes shut tight, muttering, "I could be gone for months or even years..."

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa-yah. I know this is not what you expected, especially right after your marriage. I wish we didn't have to ruin your plans like this." The King apologised with a solemn expression.

With a shake of his head, the general replied, "No, Your Majesty, I understand the gravity of the situation. My duty lies in protecting this nation. I promise I won't let anything jeopardise its safety, even if it means altering my personal plans."

Nodding, the ruler pursed his lips appreciatively, "We thank you for your dedication, General Park. We'll need you to lead our forces and devise a strategy to repel the impending threat from Ruhon."

"I'll do everything in my power to safeguard our country, my King. You have my word." Seonghwa knew that safeguarding his nation also meant keeping his own wife safe. As much as he hated it, there was no time to dwell on the disappointment of the changed plans; he needed to get to work immediately.

Transitioning into his professional demeanour, he interlocked his hands as he met the gaze of the ruler of Joseon, "When is my deployment to the war zone scheduled?"

His Majesty sighed deeply before answering him, "You have a few days to spend with your wife; the troops are still establishing the base as we speak. You can head over when it's ready. General Officer Song has also been notified and will be there to start strategising in detail with you by then."

Following the finalisation of the main details, the meeting came to a close. As the general prepared to leave, the King stopped him once more. Before he could offer yet another apology, Seonghwa intervened, "You don't owe me any apology, Your Majesty. None of this is your fault; you've done your best to protect your people. Now it's my turn to perform my duty. I... I only have one thing to ask of you while I'm gone..."

The ruler nodded, aware of the request that would follow, "I ask that you watch over my wife for me and make sure she's well protected until my return," His Majesty agreed, a hand squeezing your husband's shoulder, "Of course, my boy. You don't even have to ask."

As your husband headed towards the cherry blossom garden to find you, the unexpected sight of you with the fourth prince caught him off guard. Suppressing a sigh, he shook his head, preventing another wave of irrational jealousy from taking over. He reminded himself that, as San had assured him, you were his. Perhaps, he reasoned, you were simply making new friends.

Moreover, he recalled Prince Yeosang's firm stance on not settling down. Seonghwa reassured himself that there should be nothing more to this than platonic bonding.

Catching sight of her master approaching, Eunsook's panic began to seize her. Mentally preparing herself for the incoming wrath, she knew he wouldn't be pleased to see you spending time with another man. Turning back to you, she hoped to catch your attention, intending to warn you of his presence. However, you were too engrossed in your conversation with the prince, discussing your favourite flowers.

"I think my favourite might be the lotus flower, but that's probably because my husband has dedicated an entire pond full of it to me." The general's heart swelled with affection at your words, confirming that his trust in you was well-placed.

That's my girl.

Before the prince could respond and tell you that he could give you so much more, Seonghwa had finally arrived behind you.

"You're here, master," The head maid greeted, but he waved her off and bowed at Yeosang, "Yes, I'm here now. Thank you for keeping my wife company while I was busy, Your Highness. If there is nothing else, we will be taking our leave now."

Brightening up at your husband's presence, you stepped over to him, and he instinctively circled an arm around your back. Despite the enjoyable time with your new friend, the instant comfort of being with Seonghwa made you feel at home again. The fourth prince's eye twitched at the interaction, but he did his best to maintain a smile on his handsome face.

The elderly woman was genuinely surprised; she blinked as she tried to comprehend her master's calm demeanour. It was unexpected, especially considering how unhappy he had been when you were around Yunho and San. But she found relief in not witnessing him explode or resort to his usual passive-aggressive self.

"Ahh yes, General Park, off to make arrangements for your upcoming wedding ceremony, I presume?" The prince's tone carried a hint of smugness, almost as if he were privy to some knowledge.

Your husband's expression dimmed at the reminder; there would be no wedding plans for some time. Mustering a cordial smile, he bowed lightly, "Something along those lines, Your Highness." He had no intention of breaking the news to you in this manner, and he certainly didn't feel obligated to provide Yeosang with any explanations, so a little fabrication wouldn't hurt.

As if on cue, a few palace servants finally caught up to the prince, out of breath, "There you are, Your Highness! Please don't make our jobs any more difficult than they already are. Will you return to the library with us? The royal tutor is still waiting for you." Yeosang sighed and reluctantly turned to bid you goodbye.

"Very well then. It was nice talking to you, Miss Jang. I hope to see you again. And you, General Park." You and Seonghwa bowed politely as he left the garden with the poor servants trailing miserably behind.

The general did his best to brush aside the prince's borderline irritating behaviour, particularly the way he insisted on addressing you as Miss Jang despite your change in marital status. In the grand scheme of things, such trivialities held no importance now. Chances were slim that you would ever meet Prince Yeosang again, given the impending war and the duties that awaited your husband.

With a deep breath, he focused on the immediate task at hand – spending precious moments with you before he had to leave for the war. Gently tucking a strand of stray hair behind your ear, he offered a warm smile, "Come, my love. Let's make our way home."

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you questioned, "We're heading home already? Aren't we supposed to meet His and Her Majesty?" The head maid shared your astonishment; she was equally puzzled.

Seonghwa let out a small sigh and nodded, "Yes, there's been a change of plans. I'll explain on our way home."

As you walked back to the waiting carriage, your husband's mind raced with thoughts of how to break the news to you. You had only just overcome a traumatising ordeal and were finally getting your happily ever after. The daunting task of telling you that he would have to leave for war for an indefinite amount of time loomed over him. He wondered about your possible reactions and couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether he would return.

Despite being the great General Park, he couldn't escape the reality that, at the end of the day, he was still human.

Settling down into the vehicle, you noticed your husband staring anxiously out the window, lost in thought. Placing a hand over his, you softly called out, "Seonghwa," When he turned to meet your concerned gaze, you inquired, "What is it? What was the emergency meeting about?" He grasped your hands, squeezing them, as he prepared himself to share the news with you.

"I... I'm so sorry, my love, but our wedding ceremony will have to be postponed... indefinitely," As disappointing as that was, you wanted to know the actual reason, so you nodded and waited for him to continue, "That's because... there is an incoming war."

He didn't need to elaborate for you to grasp the situation immediately. Naturally, it meant he would have to go and fight. As the most promising general in all of Joseon, the King's most trusted warrior, if it wasn't him going off to fight, then who else? Your heart clenched uncomfortably at the revelation, but you understood it was only part of his job, so you smiled reassuringly at him, "Oh... I-I understand, Seonghwa. Wh-when are you leaving then?"

Raising his brows in surprise, it took him a minute to react, "W-wait, are you not upset with any of this? I will be leaving you, and it could be for months or even years... and you're okay with it?"

You sighed shakily, the smile now dropping.

"Of course, I'm not okay with it... If only it were possible, I would like to keep you all to myself, but it's your job to defend the nation. You're General Park, and I'm so proud of you for that. You've won so many battles; I'm certain this will be another easy victory for you. As your wife, I will do my duty to safeguard our home until your return."

Just as he believed his love for you couldn't deepen further, your words proved him wrong. He felt incredibly fortunate to have such an understanding wife. He should have known better; he didn't know why he expected you to throw a tantrum. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and pushing your head into the crook of his neck, "You're right; I'm an idiot. I hope you know you're not making it any easier for me to leave you."

Despite the tears welling up in your eyes, you chuckled, trying to maintain a positive outlook amid the looming dread. Inside, you were trembling, and letting him go was the last thing you wanted. Yet, you had to face your reality, "You haven't answered me, Seonghwa. When are you leaving?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his hold around you before whispering, "In a few days, my love. A few days."

« Preview of Part 13 »

"Your Majesty, the fourth prince requests an audience with you." The Queen arched an eyebrow, surprised that her most rebellious son would willingly seek to meet her. She had anticipated him doing everything in his power to avoid her due to her constant nagging for him to settle down.

"Hm, does he now? Allow him to enter."

With a deep bow, the eunuch complied, "Yes, Your Majesty, as you wish," before exiting the Queen's chambers to fetch her son.

"The fourth prince, Your Majesty," Yeosang made a grand entrance with a half-hearted bow and greeting, "It's been a while, Mother."

Her Majesty snorted in disbelief, but it no longer surprised her. He had always been the most disobedient among all of her children. She tried to be understanding, acknowledging that his life hadn't been as easy as his other siblings due to the birthmark on his face. This understanding explained her leniency with his attitude.

"What a surprise, Yeosang. To what do I owe the pleasure, my son? If this is regarding more funds or approval for another one of your expeditions out of the palace, you can forget it. I don't want to hear it unless you're telling me you wish to get married—"

With a smirk, the prince crossed his arms over his chest, "That's exactly what I am here for, Mother. I came to tell you I have changed my mind and would agree to get married, on one condition."

The Queen immediately straightened in her seat, wondering if she had heard him wrong, "Y-you're willing to get married?" He nodded, and she widened her eyes, "Name it; what is your condition?"

"It has to be the eldest Miss Jang promised to General Park Seonghwa. It's her or nothing, Mother."

Y'all, my new and final semester of uni starts next week. Here's a heads-up; updates are probably not going to be as frequent, but I will do my best! Also, I apologise if this part felt like a filler chapter HAHA gotta let the drama build up slowly.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[verdantwyrm]

On the topic of Mouthwashing though, I really do wish we got more time as Curly's POV to get a better understanding of the rest of the crew and their personalities.

Jimmy's pov he views Anya as weak, constantly fawning, a nervous wreck, incapable of thinking for herself. He views Swansea as this drunken, fat oaf who's never spent a day in his life being successful at anything other than one bottle down the drain away from complete spiral. He views Daisuke as his rich boy who's never had to work a day in his life and has absolutely everything— including the internship, handed to him on a silver platter. And he views Curly as this absolute. A thing to idolise, a thing to destroy, a stepping stone but also a helping hand. He utterly loves hating Curly, and he loves the hate that comes from it.

Jimmy rarely talks bad about Curly, only ever swapping the blame off himself but he never once talks badly about him the same way he does to the other crew members. Curly is his paragon, something he spent years and years of chasing, being so far and yet so close to, and when he finally feels like he could finally surpass him, or even simply be equals for once, Curly gets the opportunity of a lifetime at a job he hates. How selfish, how utterly pathetic and selfish for Curly to hate a job that makes Jimmy feel powerful. He likes it there, he is in control. And that resentment starts to truly build when Jimmy realises how selfish Curly is for wanting to escape from something that enables Jimmy so much.

But when we finally see through Curly's eyes, Anya is fun, she is enthusiastic, she loves to make jokes, she loves to draw, read, and even has what seems to be an budding relationship with Curly himself, taking to his comment about being fit to fly in her eyes like it's a common exchange of flirting between the both of them. She is at ease around him, her walls have dropped, and she feels safe to talk to him, and even attempts to try and get him to open up more to her.

Daisuke is capable, he is enthusiastic, a hard working Intern who really enjoys what he does, engineering. Curly is receptive of this, and isn't even the one to reprimanded him when he sets off the sealant foam because he can see the good in him, because he can see that he was genuinely trying to help. He never once comments about him being stupid, or lacking, or in any light that could implicate that he hasn't worked hard to get where he is, even if he did have assistance from his parents, he still met that mark of passing for internship.

And although not much is expressed with Swansea, we know that they're capable of being honest with eachother, and allow themselves to joke between the both of them. And when Curly does have to step in and act like a Captain, he even goes as far to trust the axe directly to Swansea himself. In a ship where absolutely everything has to go through him, everything needs clearance and everything needs to be triple double checked, he trusts Swansea with the axe.

And onto Jimmy, Curly can see his faults, the cracks and the damage Jimmy has on the surface, but insists on seeing something deeper within him too. Constantly reminding him that "They'll figure it out" and just to take "One day at a time" because he is genuinely reaching out to Jimmy and attempting to give him support. Despite the ugliness, he is looking at Jimmy with a lens of the bigger picture, his overall achievement of being his co-pilot, his friend. Curly was genuinely proud of Jimmy for accomplishing what he has, and acknowledges that it wouldn't have been wasted considering he has had it rough back on earth.

We can see both of their stark personalities in also how we see the ship itself. Everytime we are through Jimmy's perspective, the ship is destroyed, blanketed in a red hue constantly, it is crowded, suffocating, rusting and breaking apart at the seams. Even right before the ship is actually crashed, it is not long before his entire senses are overloaded with the red flashing lights of an emergency warning. He lives in that sunset, in that firey essence of destruction and death.

But through Curly's eyes? We see sun, clouds, happiness, warmth, we see the moon, the twinkling stars. The beauty of a lived space, the calmness and the comfort of the Tulpar. Celebrating birthdays, playing board games, reading books, enjoying life to their fullest on the ship. We know he enjoys simple food, trucker food. That caffeine keeps him up, that he refers to Polle with joy, referring to the statue as "Ponyboy", mentioning that he loves Anya's and Swansea's music choices on the radio.

And then suddenly his whole life is utterly consumed by that red, firey inferno. Constantly blaring in his eyes, burning away at his skin and even more constant reminder of the white, hot death that awaits him.

Everything in this game is through the lense of a cynical, self absorbed unreliable narrator who sees kindness as a weakness and lashes out accordingly. I would kill to have seen and experienced more as Curly, but I think the lack thereof is intentional. A nod to just how truly empty and vulnerable he has become, stripped away of all things that made him, him. Both in appearance and personality, all taken from him by the one person he thought he could trust.

[ciy0]

☆*:..｡FIXATION｡..:*☆

Summary - Why couldn’t you have been the one he met first

Word Count- 1.5k

Content Warning- 18+ Sexual Content and Vulgar Language, Fem! Reader, Obsessed!Mingyu, Toxic/Dark!Mingyu, Mingyu has a fiancé (Yeri), Mingyu Wants Reader, Slight Yandere, Simp!Vernon, Vernon Slander, Failed Blowjob, Performance Issues, Cunnilingus, Immoral Thoughts [no physical cheating but mental cheating…], Surprise Ejaculation

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆

Mingyu thought he found the one already. Engagement set in stone with his friend for years, Yeri. They’ve been through so much together, their love grew with time until she confessed in college. They knew each other since middle school, growing through all of life’s early phases together and he couldn’t see himself locking down with anyone else for the rest of his life but her. Sure he never got the butterflies, and sure it took him a while to finally propose but he loved her. He knew he did, so why…

So why did time stop for him when Vernon introduced his new acquaintance at a friendly bowling night, Y/n. Why did his breath catch when you bowed to everyone eventually making it to him. Finally seeing your pretty face up close, angelic eyes crinkling as you platonically greeted him having no idea what those lashes were setting off in his heart. Returning yours with a robotic bow of his own, not that you noticed. Innocent head tilting as you turned to Yeri with a “Oh and you must be Yeri! Vernon told me so much about you, congrats on your engagement.” Why didn’t that make him happy as it did for Yeri, as she pulled you in for a hug.

Why did he so desperately try to meet your eyes that whole night despite his fiancé claiming her spot on his lap. Why did envy bloom in his chest when you’d laugh at Vernon’s unfunny jokes and let him casually touch your thigh. Why did he want to swap places with-

“Mingyu?” Yeri called him suddenly taking his attention, “You’re furrowing your brows baby, everything alright? Ready to go home?”

He instantly touched his forehead releasing the tension there, “Haha yeah l-let’s head out,” He airily answered trying to focus back on his fiancé.

The drive home was crickets despite Yeri’s futile attempts at lighting a conversation. Any lead was met with a distracted hum as his eyes focused on the road but let his mind wonder about everything you. She eventually gave up in favor of tapping away on her phone until her next words grabbed his full attention.

“Y/n was so cuteee, Vernon is so down bad, “ She giggled at her own thought.

Mingyu’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, “She’s way too out of his league, he’s trying to hard. When did they even meet anyways…” the last part was moreso mumbled.

Happy she finally found a topic he seemed open to she kept the banter going, “Awww don’t say that, she seemed comfortable with him. You know now his call a few weeks ago makes sense…” she pondered

Mingyu turned to her briefly, “What call?”

She tapped her chin trying to remember exactly, “He had said he needed female advice, there was this new girl that moved in his complex that he wanted to get to know better. And you know Vernon—no game at all lmao so i had gave him some pointers. Looks like it’s working out, never know maybe the next engagement will be theirs,” she joked cheekily not hearing the hateful curse under Mingyu’s breath.

New engagement his ass. A boy like Vernon couldn’t handle all that you are. You were too much woman for him. Your flattering curves, twinkling eyes, bright smile, bright personality—fuck. What could Vernon possible do that he himself couldn’t give to you ten times better-

“Oh and before we left I got her Insta,” Yeri offered absentmindedly as she focused back on her phone, once again missing her fiancés intrigued expression, “ Vernon wanted all of us to follow her, so she feels comfortable in the group. I’ll give it to you once we reach your place.”

He knew he should’ve held some dignity but the second they parked at his complex he made sure to receive your socials before even taking off his seatbelt under the guise of ,”Just in case you forget later babe.” Yeri none the wiser offered before they made their way inside.

Their nighttime routine commenced as normal. Brush teeth, shower, make love then sleep. The first two steps happened seamlessly but the third… the third was proving difficult. Even though Yeri was between his legs trying to get him up with her mouth like a champ he just couldn’t get hard.

He could see the insecure look cross her face and it panged guilt in his chest. “D-Do you need porn?” She nervously asked. But he knew porn wouldn’t make a difference. He never had performance issues in his life, constantly on Yeri like a rabbit but the only thing that had changed was—well you.

In favor of hiding his dark discovery he flipped Yeri over in the bed to eat her out instead. She gasped softly as he pressed her legs back to her sides before licking his lips and diving in.

As she pulled his hair he let his eyes close in a moan at the taste of her until an unsolicited vision of him and you in the same exact position bombarded his mind. He groaned louder against her as the image shot straight to his dick making him rock solid in seconds.

He humped the bed pathetically while lashing at his fiancés clit like a man starved as his imagination ran rampant against his will. Not like he was really trying to stop it, though.

He could envision the swell under your breasts as he slurped you like water, your teary eyes overwhelmed from his hungry tongue. Digging into your flinching hole trying to scoop out all your wetness—wanting to drown in it. He didn’t know what you sounded like—god he wished—but that fucked out expression as he shook his head side to side was doing things to his brain chemistry.

He felt Yeri jerk as she came hard in his mouth. He dutifully swirled and licked her release as much as he could, slowly coming out of his own reverie as she softly pushed his head from sensitivity. Out of breath and eyes dazed he slowly kissed back up her body before landing on her lips.

“Oh my,” she gasped against his, “That was a-amaz-“ her eyes widened, her caressing hand halting at the substance on his abdomen, “ D-did you cum on yourself??”

Fuck—did he? Still catching his breath he looked down to see a mess of thick pearly cum splattered on himself and the bedding near his nether region. There was so fucking much, even as his dick still swung high and mighty against Yeri’s leg, rearing to go for more.

He chose not to respond instead to rub his tip against her folds sending her a cheeky wink, continuing their session under the covers.

By time he was done with her she was off in dream land as he cleaned her twitching body and rested himself besides her. He might’ve gone a bit too far, seeing a side of himself he’d never seen before. So depraved and immoral as he primally grinded orgasm and orgasm out of his fiancé with your beautiful face at the forefront of his mind as guilty fuel. Imagining your plush thighs quaking against his ribs, back arched intoxicatingly in mind numbing pleasure all because of him. Giving all he could give because you deserved it.

Finally somehow managing to calm his racing thoughts he pulled her to him, petting her sleeping body as he reached over for his phone. Eyes squinting at the brightness of it as he peered at it from over her shoulder.

He took this time to scroll through your feed brazenly. Feeling his own self smile warmly at your various selfies and dinner photos where you were simply enjoying life. He brushed his thumb across his screen as if you could feel it too. Feel the love and desire bumbling in his gut as he took a peek further into your life.

It’s so crazy how easily he can see it—a future with you. Can see himself being on the other side of the picture, taking you on cute dates and showering you with affection before bringing you home and fucking your brains out, mind and heart filled with nothing but Mingyu.

It took Yeri so long of one siding pinning and convincing to get Mingyu to commit her and yet here you were doing it all in one night. He couldn’t help but wish he knew you first, if you moved in his complex first, how the person laying in his arms right now could be you. It should be you.

Will be you.

He languidly clicked back to his home page feeling Yeri stir in her sleep, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. He decided to scroll mindlessly instead seeing random posts from friends. Getting bored he refreshed the page one last time before he’d retire for bed himself but one new post appeared running his blood cold, making him grip his phone so hard it was a miracle the screen didn’t shatter. His dark eyes scanned the post, in unbridled rage, pupils shaking at the offensive pixels.

It was Vernon’s post. Two slides. The first showing two hands held on top of his ugly bed sheets. One obviously his and the other— the other sharing your perfectly manicured set that Mingyu already memorized just by a mere glance from earlier that night.

The second slide is what really set him off though. Again it was Vernon in bed, shirt off shamelessly kissing none other than you on the cheek. You in what was probably his shirt, hair a mess, lips puffy, and eyes still slightly damp from suspected intimate activities, but smile still radiating as you clung onto him.

Vernonline: leveled up to boyfriend, love u 💚💚 @y/n_bb

[corydora-writes]

Meleth nín

Pairing: Elrond x Plus Size Human Female Reader

No descriptions of physical features, but ya know, I only write for fat women. 

Summary: Elrond meets you, the muse from his visions, after the siege of Eregion.

Word count: 2,122

A/N: Been having a shitty week, so this is just something I quickly wrote to help lift my spirits. Hope you enjoy it. X

Elrond perched on a sturdy branch of an ancient tree, his quill gliding across parchment as he poured his thoughts into poetry. These days, he sought refuge from his responsibilities in Lindon, immersing himself in his visions in the form of glimpses of you, a beautiful stranger. With his gift of unprompted visions, he often found himself enveloped in visions that flickered like candlelight in his mind.

He saw you wandering through a vast field of tall orange blossoms that waved gently in the breeze as you called his name softly. Your eyes sparkled like the brightest stars scattered across the night sky, shimmering with mystery and warmth. The scene shifted to your playful laughter as you splashed in a crystal-clear lake, droplets of water catching the sunlight as they arched through the air, inviting him to join you with an irresistible smile. 

At last, the final vision settled into his mind like a cherished memory: you stood before him in a flowing gown, radiant as you became his bride. Though you were human, your ethereal beauty felt otherworldly, as if you transcended the borders of reality itself. What significance did these powerful images hold? Was fate hinting at a destined connection with you, the woman who captured his heart and imagination? While uncertainty shrouded his thoughts, one thing remained clear: you had become his muse. Each day, he committed himself to becoming a better version of himself, striving to embody the qualities that would make him worthy of you.

--------------------------------------------------------

Since his last quarrel with Durin, Elrond had prioritized visiting Durin and his family more frequently. Their friendship meant a great deal to him, and he was determined to mend any lingering tension, vowing never to let any resentment fester again. Elrond found himself at their sturdy, warmly lit stone table, surrounded by the rich aromas of hearty dwarven cuisine. Laughter filled the air as they indulged in generous portions of roasted meats and robust loaves of bread, their goblets brimming with ale.

As Elrond listened to Durin and Disa share fond memories of their romantic past, he felt a sense of comfort enveloping him like a well-worn cloak. 

“Elrond,” Disa said, her voice clear and inviting, drawing his attention. “We’ve shared our tales and adventures. Now it’s your turn. Is there a fair maiden who has captured your heart?”

Elrond nodded slowly, his thoughts drifting away from the warmth of the hearth and into a distant realm. His gaze seemed to search for you, the ethereal figure that had appeared to him in fleeting moments.

“Yes, a mortal maiden. Her name is Y/N, and in my vision, she shines like the stars. I know it sounds strange and perhaps foolish, but there’s a connection I can’t ignore.”

Disa clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. “A love that transcends realms! How romantic! But are you not worried about the differences between your kind?”

Durin crossed his arms, a frown creasing his brow. “Humans are… fleeting,” he said, a hint of protectiveness lacing his voice. “What future could there be in that?”

Disa put a gentle hand on Durin’s arm. “Sometimes, love finds you in the most unexpected ways, dear heart. We cannot judge what we do not understand. Elrond’s heart speaks to him; that is enough.”

Elrond met Durin’s gaze, unwavering. “Life is fleeting for all of us, Dwarves and Elves alike. It is our nature to grasp the moments we have, to cherish them. If this bond were to grow, it would be worth the risk.” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle. 

Disa smiled warmly. “Aye. You speak with wisdom, Elrond. If this Y/N is as wondrous as you say, then it seems fate has a hand in this.”

“Fate or folly,” Durin muttered with a hint of skepticism, though there was a softness in his eyes. “Just remember, old friend, to tread carefully.”

“I will,” Elrond assured him. “But I cannot ignore the calling. She is a part of me, even if we are strangers.” 

Disa beamed at him. “Then let us hope the stars align for you, Elrond." 

Elrond returned her smile, feeling a swell of hope within him. "Perhaps one day you shall meet Y/N, and she will seize your hearts just as she has captured mine in visions.”

--------------------------------------------------------

After the brutal siege of Eregion, with smoke still curling in the air and the echoes of battle fading into memory, Elrond felt the weight of exhaustion settle upon him. His heart ached for his dear friend Galadriel, whom he had just finished healing, though the effort had drained him completely. He let himself sink to the forest floor. A group of elven healers, their expressions a mix of concern and resolve, carefully carried Galadriel away to a quieter part of the woods, where the sounds of battle faded.

“We shall return for you, Commander,” one of the elf healers said softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes as she offered him a reassuring smile. 

“I am truly  fine…” Elrond replied, his voice more weary than he intended. “I but only require a moment's repose…”

As the healer turned to leave, a rustle of leaves caught his attention, followed by the sound of water dripping steadily onto the earth, forming tiny puddles in the dry soil. 

“Could you please lend aid to the Commander behind the oak tree?” he heard the elf maiden call to her companion, her tone infused with urgency.

“Truly I insist, it is but unnecessary,” Elrond interjected, lifting his weary gaze. “There are others who are injured and need—”

“— need you to be whole first,” you interrupted softly, your eyes unwavering. “You need to be taken care of now,” your voice interrupted him, rich and warm, commanding his attention. “Even the mightiest need to rest. You cannot bear all the burdens alone.” 

He raised his gaze and found the source, his heart skipping. 

Elrond blinked in incredulity. You, his muse—the very inspiration behind countless verses penned in the serene beauty of Lindon, where every word had been infused with longing—were now standing right before him, as tangible and radiant as the dawn. It was as if you had been summoned not by chance but by the very desires of his heart, materializing amidst the chaos to fill the void he had been carrying.

Elrond found himself unable to look away, caught in the depths of your gaze. With a heavy sigh, he finally relented, letting the weight of exhaustion wash over him, if only for a fleeting moment. 

“Very well,” he finally conceded, his voice softening like the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. “I will accept your help.”

“You fought well, Commander Elrond,” you said, your voice a melodic whisper as you studied the lines etched on his face. Your fingertips traced the evidence of hardship and valor, each movement deliberate and tender. The touch was gentle yet electrifying, sending waves of warmth cascading through him, reawakening a sense of life he thought was lost. 

“What is your name?” he asked, an insatiable desire coursing through him. 

“Y/N,” you replied softly, a name practically singing from your lips. 

“How did you come to be in this realm, Y/N?” he asked, overwhelmed by the mere fact of your existence beside him. 

“I was part of an envoy sent to aid,” you explained, your touch gentle and comforting, reflecting years of practice. “When word of the siege reached my ears, I felt a powerful pull in my heart that drew me back to this place. It seems that fate had other plans in store for me.”

"Indeed,” He said, fighting the urge to smile because he knew with certainty that fate was unfolding right before him. “I am deeply grateful for the generous aid you have rendered to my people," Elrond replied sincerely. A warm smile spread across his face, illuminating his wise features and reflecting the kindness in his eyes. "Am I mistaken in presuming that you are a healer?" he inquired, his tone inviting and intrigued.

“I consider myself a wanderer of distant lands, and yes, a skilled healer dedicated to the well-being of others, and an eager student of lore,” you declared with a sense of pride and purpose.

"A traveler," Elrond said, a touch of sadness clouding his mind as he thought of your departure. "Where will your next adventure take you?"

You paused for a moment, your brow furrowing as you contemplated the weight of his question. "I'm not entirely certain," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "Perhaps I'll continue my journey northward and see where the path takes me." Your gaze drifted toward the horizon, filled with lingering possibilities. 

Elrond felt a surge of concern twist in his chest, a protective instinct rising up at the thought of you traversing the wilds alone, facing whatever challenges the unknown might present.

"Might you consider joining us on our journey? The elven people of Eregion have faced great hardships; many have been displaced from their homes and bear the scars of battle. If you’re willing, we would greatly appreciate your ongoing skilled healing." Elrond cast his gaze downward, avoiding your eyes, feeling an uncomfortable mix of vulnerability and fear about the possibility of rejection.

"I accept," You replied with a warm smile, your eyes shining with compassion. "I would be truly honored to keep offering my support in helping your people heal," you added, your voice full of kindness and sincerity.

Water splashed quietly as you dipped the cloth into the worn bucket, the sound almost soothing in the stillness. As you began to wipe the dirt, grime, and blood from his face, Elrond felt battle weariness begin to ebb, replaced by the comforting sensation of your attentive care. 

The moment feels strangely intimate. You’re so near, so close, and he notices things: the small sounds of your breath, and how your focus is intense; he observes the way your brow slightly furrows, and the world around you fades away, making your features glow with a contemplative light. More so, he notices the unfamiliar sensations that flare up when you’re near.

“Meleth nín,” Elrond murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, unaware that the words have escaped his lips loudly enough for you to catch. He quickly averts his gaze, a flicker of panic crossing his mind and he hopes that you haven’t heard him.

“Hmm?” you query, your tone light and curious as you continue to wipe away the smudges of dirt from his face. “I assume you said something in Elvish?”

“I did…” Elrond replies, hesitation creeping into his voice. “I said ‘my friend,’” he lies terribly, and he wishes you would not probe any deeper into his unguarded moment.

“Ah,” you respond, a playful smile curling your lips as you consider the beauty of the language. “Such a lovely tongue,” you add, reclaiming the cloth to finish your task. With gentle, careful movements, you tuck a stray curl behind his ear, your fingers brushing against his warm skin as you wipe his forehead clean. The moment your eyes meet his, an electric connection ignites, and you softly whisper, “Meleth nín…”

Caught completely off guard, Elrond’s breath catches in his throat. The innocent sincerity in your voice sends his heart racing and his mind into a whirlwind of emotion. If only you  understood the true weight of the words you  so naively uttered, he muses, a mix of longing and trepidation coursing through him. He can't help but chuckle. The sound dances in the stillness around you both, breaking the tension and momentarily allowing him to gather his thoughts as he stands on the verge of something he cannot yet define.

"I mispronounced it, didn't I?" you asked, a playful laugh escaping your lips. Your eyes danced with a mix of humor and a hint of embarrassment, creating an atmosphere of warmth and understanding. "Well, we shall have ample time for you to teach me your tongue," you continued, your voice filled with enthusiasm. 

Elrond gently releases the tension that had been coiling in his shoulders and jaw, finally allowing himself to lean back against the sturdy trunk of the tree. The rough bark presses reassuringly against his back as he sinks into a state of relaxation, savoring the warmth of the sun filtering through the leaves above. You sit comfortably right next to him. 

In that fleeting moment, with a soft breeze rustling the branches around him, he visualizes a future where he and you reminisce about this very instant. He imagines you laughing together as he draws you into a warm embrace.

[silhouetteonpaper]

Mind and Matter

Summary: When your plan to save New York goes awry, Natasha decides there’s only one person to blame. Natasha x Reader & Wanda x Reader WC: 1,502 Warnings: fighting, use of powers on each other, going unconscious A/N: Just something short and sweet for tonight! I hope you enjoy <3

“It’s the only option.” You explain to the team as they wrack their minds for any plausible idea on how to save the city. A villain with access to the Power Stone is currently wreaking havoc on the town just outside the window, millions of lives at stake. The only idea you can think of is attempting to stop him using your own powers created by the Power Stone. 

You’re immediately met with adverse reactions. “You know our number one rule, we don’t trade lives.” Steve speaks up, making you roll your eyes.

“C’mon, have a little faith in me. If it were anyone else, you’d be all in.” You argue with crossed arms. Nat steps up, calming you before things get too heated.

“Hey, you know that’s not true. It’s not that we don’t think you can do it; it’s purely too big a risk.” She assures, exchanging a nod with Steve. You relent with a deep breath, nodding back at the two. They’re right, it’s a risky move. But that’s not to say you aren’t willing to take that chance in order to save millions.

Tony’s next to offer an idea. “Alright, so no sacrificing the kid.” You elbow him in the ribs, receiving a shrug in response. “What about combining the stone’s effects? Two is stronger than one…” He has a point, making you raise an eyebrow to see what the rest of the team thinks.

“You could be onto something. Wanda? How do you feel about that?” Steve directs his attention to the redhead off to the side of the room. She seems to be more focused on the destruction outside, rather than the planning happening right before her.

“That’d surely be safer. Are you okay with it?” Wanda looks to you, her gaze making you swallow any fears before they even had a chance to rise.

“I’m game.” You tell the group with a deep breath. Everyone nods reassuringly, a plan quickly coming into place. With the combined energy of two stones, the Power and Mind Stone, maybe there’d be a chance at saving the city. There’s only one way to find out.

After a brief moment of preparing to expel an extreme amount of energy, you find yourself out on the streets of New York City amongst the chaos. Screaming herds of people flee the streets, leaving an open space for you and Wanda to battle it out with the hooded figure wielding a purple crystal.

Before he noticed the two of you preparing, Wanda called out her signal. “You ready?” She spoke over her earpiece, both of you on opposite sides of the enemy hiding behind whatever debris kept you unnoticed.

“Ready!” You responded, waiting for her ‘go’ before jumping into action. Within seconds, a purple beam of light shoots from your hands into the depths of the street. Each fragment of light makes your arms burn, the sensation filling your entire abdomen.

A red streak of energy omits from the other side of the hooded figure, each beam finding its way to the enemy as you and Wanda push harder and harder to destroy him. The heat inside of you rises, the fiery feeling flowing inside your veins as the purple glow grows stronger. A bright orb surrounds the figure, a protective move cast by the one wielding the stone.

Every ounce of energy you can spare is targeted towards him, the little gleam of the power stone almost taunting you with how close it is. The tiny stone that causes so much destruction, yet also is the reason you harness so much power. Now in the wrong hands, you feel a sense of hatred towards it, yet you can’t deny it has offered you so much power in the right hands—your own hands.

“He’s breaking! Keep going!” You barely hear Tony’s words of encouragement over the strain in your chest, the aching feeling of everything you have being sent out before you. So close, just a little longer and you’ll have successfully saved New York.

But after only another moment of being blinded by your own power, you notice the glowing orb is gone, the hooded figure now flying up in the sky. It only takes a second for the red beam to hit you dead in the chest, your entire world going black.

“No!” Wanda yells, her red energy soon dissipating like a gust of wind. Her feet pound the concrete as she approaches your unconscious body, but not before a certain someone stops her.

“Get away from her,” Natasha runs over, wasting no time to bend down and check your pulse. Her expression reveals the seriousness of the situation before Steve and Tony have even caught their breath at your side. “She’s barely breathing, we have to get her to the med bay. Let’s move!”

Scooping you up and bringing you back towards the compound before losing your pulse, the team barely has time to see Wanda overcome with guilt. As her eyes fill with tears while rushing after you, she places every ounce of responsibility on herself.

There’s barely any time to sit and sulk, Natasha laying you down in the med bay as Bruce quickly hooks up machines to keep you alive. “What happened out there?” He asks with concern, noticing the purple skin around your chest. Natasha only shakes her head at him, eyeing Wanda who now stands in the corner pacing back and forth.

After hours of waiting, hours of wishing things went differently, Nat finds herself sitting by your bed in the white-walled room, thinking to herself of how she could’ve prevented this. It isn’t until you move your hand under hers that she notices you’re awake.

A deep breath of relief makes you smile as your eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, thank goodness.” She breathes, her thumb rubbing over your hand. You spend a moment taking your current state into account. Nothing is broken… but wow, your abdomen hurts.

“Did we do it? Did we get the stone back?” You ask with a small sense of hope. Natasha’s slow head shake destroys any ounce of that, though. She continues to gaze at you, a worried expression still covering her face.

“Will you worry about yourself for once?” She questions, her own instinct to protect you stronger now that you’re lying here injured.

“I’ll have to ask Tony how.” You tease, finally making Natasha laugh. Now it’s your turn to take a breath of relief, that is until you remember the events from earlier.

The image of Wanda’s red beam of light makes you flinch. “Wanda! Is she alright?” You ask with concern. Now recalling what happened, you know that Wanda would only blame herself for the terrible accident.

“She’ll be okay, you need to rest and recover right now.” Natasha attempts to reassure you, but it doesn’t work.

“Please get Wanda, I need to be sure she isn’t blaming herself.” You demand, watching as Nat raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s not her fault! Nat, please!” Giving in to your pleas, Natasha stands and heads out of the room.

Only a few minutes pass before a familiar face enters, covered entirely in an expression you expected. Guilt. Wanda takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting at the edge of the bed before you pat the side, giving her explicit permission to sit next to you.

Still, she keeps to herself and is cautious to move the bed too much. It’s unlike her, and you can tell something is wrong. You start to talk her out of it before she interrupts. “Wanda-“ 

“No, this is completely my fault. I’m so sorry, I was so focused on putting all I had into my defense that I wasn’t quick enough to change direction…” Wanda explained, tears beginning to fall from her eyes once more.

“This isn’t your fault Wanda, I promise I don’t blame you. It was a sneaky move on his part, we couldn’t have predicted that.” You console her in hopes she drops the accusation.

“No, no, I should’ve been more careful-“ 

You’re quick to interrupt her this time. “No, Wanda. Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You were working so hard, no one can blame you for that. The only way I can be 100% alright is if you are too, okay?” You express. She only nods, a small heartfelt smile creeping onto her face as you reach for her hand.

That’s when Natasha walks back into the room, making your focus shift. “And you, forgive Wanda, please. It’s no one’s fault. The quicker you guys resolve your issues, the faster I’m back out on the field.” You tell her firmly.

The silence is broken as soon as she laughs, walking up to Wanda to put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, alright. But just because you helped us feel better doesn’t mean you’re healed. You still need to rest.” Nat voices. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling in defeat.

“Damn it.”

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker || Chapter Sixteen || The Proxies

tw: murder, descriptions of wounds, beheading, brief descriptions of gore

<— previous chapter

Brian’s patience was growing thin. He stood silently in Jack’s room, examining the damage Nova had caused. The cravings were ominous and eerie, the dry blood coating the wood. His gaze wondered all over the room, from the ceiling to the four walls. Somehow she had managed to reach the ceiling, the words home is where the heart is etched into the wood.

A familiar set of footsteps were coming up the stairs, ones Brian had grown so accustomed to he hadn’t bothered to turn around. The overwhelming smell of cigarettes was enough to tell Brian who had joined him. “Jesus Christ, looks like a murder scene in here,” Tim muttered. He did have a point. Gnawing your fingers down to the bone was no joke. The crimson paint that had dripped down the walls was a large enough indication of that. “Where’s Y/n?” Brian asked. He stood in the center of the room, trying to make sense of what The Operator was getting at. Everyone was so divided at the time. Why not just have her chuck herself off of the roof if he really wanted her dead?

“Downstairs with Toby. She’s planted herself right beside Jack’s lab. Won’t leave until she sees Nova,” Tim sighed. He joined his partners side, the two studying the damage. To Brian it looked all too familiar, flashbacks of his own drawings coming to mind. “That girl will be lucky if she has any of her fingers left,” Tim muttered to himself. Instinctively he dug for his box of cigarettes, sighing once he realized that he had shared his last ones with you. Fuck. Brian clenched his jaw, frustrated at how much progress The Operator was making.

“We should consider taking Jack’s advice and changing locations. I know Jeff’s place isn’t too far from here.”

Brian felt annoyance at Tim’s words. How long were they going to drag this out for? How long could they get away with being here? It wasn’t possible for them to spend the rest of their days here. Like this. They were running out of time whether anyone else wanted to admit it or not. Brian thought Tim out of all people would’ve realized that before he did. “Jeff would have a field day with her around. Besides, it’s not that simple anymore,” Brian huffed. Tim raised his eyebrows, noting his partner avoiding his curious gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He questioned.

The blonde sighed, finally looking over at Tim. “EJ’s not going to leave Nova’s side now. You’ve seen the way he looks at her,” He began explaining. The proxies had grown accustomed to Jack’s ways over the years. A demon with mostly human qualities, was how they categorized him. However with that being said, Jack had a few animalistic quirks that they couldn’t ignore. Usually they could, given that he was only typically tasked with patching them up. But now that he had grown interest in Nova, his tagging alone was guaranteed. “Where ever we take her Nova is going to go. Meaning we earned ourselves an extra head stone if this goes badly,” Brian finished bitterly.

Jack’s mating habits were none of Brian’s concern. What was his concern was how many bodies were going to be buried by the end of it all.

“At this point it’s more the merrier, yeah? Whatever makes her happy is important,” Tim debated. Brian clenched his jaw. “No, what’s important is keeping her alive,” He argued. Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, his gaze landing on his friend. “What’s got you so riled up? She’s a bit shook up but she isn’t hurt-” Tim began, reaching his arm out to touch Brian’s shoulder. Brian swiftly swatted his hand away. “What’s got me so riled up? How much longer are we going to drag this out? How much more are we going to let The Operator corrupt?” He snapped. Tim froze, noting Brian’s head twitching to the left. “Fuck this. It’s time something is done,” He muttered, his head continuously twitching.

Tim knew what this meant, taking a step back. Hoodie’s soulless eyes met Tim’s, his hand reaching in his pocket for his ski mask. “This is something I have to do,” He said flatly. Tugging his mask over his head, he began storming down the stairs. Tim was hot on his trail. “What? Do what?” He asked. Your head snapped towards the pair as Hoodie stormed past you and Toby, heading straight towards the front door. “Hoodie think logically for a second. There’s no way you’re going to find Cat Hunter out there!” Tim yelled. You rose to your feet, your gaze flickering to Hoodie. “Thats why i’m going to let him find me,” He huffed, slamming the door. You felt panic wash over you, your feet carrying you to the front door. Confused you turned to Tim, who was a visibly nervous wreck without his cigarettes.

“Tim what the fuck is going on?” You questioned. Tim ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “Toby we need to find Hoodie before Cat Hunter does,” The brunette responded. You narrowed your eyes. He ignored your question? Toby nodded, grabbing his mask. “Aye aye boss,” He replied, shoving his mask on his face. You felt the color drain from your face as Tim pulled his gun out of his pocket. “Y/n stay here. Go get Jack if you need to. Whatever you do. Do not leave this cabin,” Tim ordered sternly. You frowned as Toby grabbed both of his hatchets, swinging them over his shoulders. They both went to head outside, their faces full of determination. You grabbed Tim’s sleeve, forcing him to stop.

“Stop it! What the fuck is going on? At least let me come with you!” You intervened. Tim looked down at you, shoving you off of his arm. “Dont try to exclude me. I may not be a proxy or a detective or a demon but i’m useful!” You yelled, not giving a damn who heard. Tim grabbed your shoulders, shaking them. “Wake the fuck up. You need to sit here and stay still because we need to stop Hoodie from getting killed. You’re not going to be useful having one of your delusions out there,” Tim snapped. Your face fell, your shoulders tensing under his sudden grip. He released your shoulders, grumbling curses to himself. “I’m sorry but you need to stay put. Let’s go kid,” He said, gesturing for Toby to follow him. You glanced at Toby, who gave you an apologetic look before following Tim out into the snow.

Nervously you darted to the window, watching the duo trail off into the snowy forest. You felt like your mind was spinning. What could you do? Could you actually stay here while the three men you loved lives were at risk? You glanced at the medical lab door, biting your bottom lip. It was always an option to grab EJ. But there was no telling if he was done operating on Nova. A part of you wanted to stay just to protect her, but you knew deep down Jack had that area more than covered. Begrudgingly you looked back outside, none of your three boys in sight. What did Tim expect you to do? To twiddle your thumbs until they got back? No you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

This entire time everyone around you had spent every breath ensuring your safety. And you’d be damned if you didn’t return the favor. You stormed over to the coat closet, grabbing one of Jacks. It was oversized on you but it did the trick, his cologne flooding your nostrils. You buttoned up the coat, tossing the hood over your head. Unsurely you looked around, noticing Nova’s python sat on the living room coffee table. You grabbed it, admiring the custom detailings she had done on the side. You shoved it in your coat pocket, facing the door. Taking a deep breath you pushed yourself forward, right into the snowy wilderness.

The cold blast of air smacked you in the face, the temperature much more brutal than you would’ve guessed. You kept your hand wrapped around the metal piece in your pocket, your gaze hardening as you continued forward. You had already made yourself a target by leaving the cabin alone, there was no turning back now. You attempted to follow Tim and Toby’s footsteps, freshly fallen snow making your objective more difficult. Sighing you trudged forward, looking around nervously. The further you walked you felt more and more like you were being watched, causing you look around like a wounded deer.

You could see your breath each time you exhaled, your heart beginning to pound louder and louder. You were sure that someone was there, silently watching. “Hello?” You called out. Every tree in every direction looked the same. Snow covered every inch of ground you could see, snowflakes still falling from the sky above. Your head snapped to the left at the sound of footsteps, the familiar sound of snow crunching under the weight of someone’s boots flooding your ears. “Hoodie?” You called, heading towards the noise. You could feel your nose begin to burn from the harshness of the cold, your hand gripping Nova’s python for support. The silence that echoed made you uneasy. “Maybe I should just head home, fuck,” You grumbled.

Unsurely you looked around, attempting to determine which way you came from. Swallowing, you headed in the direction you thought to be back to Jacks cabin. The free falling snow was relentless, concealing any chance of tracking your foot prints or anyone else’s.

“Y/n?”

Hoodie’s voice echoed through out the trees, your head practically snapping backwards. You desperately looked around for him, your eyes flickering every which way. “Hoodie?” You called back. You expected to hear a response. One that would reveal his direction. Instead you were met by silence, the kind that made a chill go down your spine. Something was wrong, really wrong. “Hoodie?” You repeated. Turning around you began to head in the opposite direction, ignoring the feeling of someone’s eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You wiped some stray snowflakes off of your eyelashes, looking around for any sign of anyone else’s presence.

The faint sound of static found its way to your ears, your eyes widening. You weren’t sure which direction it was coming from, but your body was screaming at you to run. With your heart pounding in your chest you ran, refusing to look over your shoulder as the cold wind whipped you in the face. Your breath grew shallow quickly, the dropping freezing temperature unkind to your overworked lungs. The static sounded more faint the further you ran, your lungs burning. You could barely run straight, EJ’s heavy coat weighing you down tremendously. Gulping for air you finally stopped, leaning against a nearby tree for support.

“Son of a bitch!”

You quickly turned around, a bloody and battered Tim lying on the forest floor. Your jaw fell open, your feet carrying you to him. “Tim?” You gasped. Toby was crouched down beside him, his hatchets tossed aside in the snow. Your gaze fell to his wound, three claw marks scratched across his chest. His jacket was tattered and mustard yellow threads hung over the open wounds. Cat Hunter had torn into Tim’s muscles, the blood so heavy it was almost nauseating. It dripped down his chest, his skin turning pale. You threw yourself onto the ground, examining his wounds. “That son of a bitch got me,” He grumbled. His chocolate eyes met yours, his face scrunching into confusion. “What the hell are you doing out here? You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Tim hissed. He attempted to push himself back against a tree for support, only to fall back down on his back again.

Toby grabbed his arms, helping him sit up as he grunted in pain. “I’m not going to let Hoodie die because of me. None of you will,” You argued. You glanced down at his wound again, the torn flesh mutilated and raw. “Enough of the bullshit. Toby take her back to the cabin,” Tim ordered. The younger brunette stood up before attempting to walk around him to grab your arm. “No. Toby stay here with Tim. I’m going to get help. You’re in no condition to be out here by yourself,” You debated. At the sound of your order Toby crouched back down, earning a furious glare from Tim. You grabbed handfuls of snow, ensuring it was pure white before applying it to his chest. Initially Tim hissed under the sensation before sighing with relief. “Keep handfuls of snow on it, it’ll keep the burning sensation down,” You told Toby. The younger brunette nodded, visibly nervous.

“Y/n don’t do this. The Operator and Cat Hunter are both out here. It’s only their sick game that has kept us alive this long,” Tim protested. You wiped his hair off of his forehead, pushing it back with the help of the falling snowflakes. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll be right back,” You say as confidently as you can muster. Your eyes flickered over to Toby’s fallen hatchets, before returning to the boys concerned gazes. “Besides, i’m taking an old friend with me,” You say, quickly grabbing one of his hatchets that were previously abandoned in the fallen snow. Both Tim and Toby verbally protested, their protest ignored as you darted back into the snowy woods. Their voices became more distant as you trudged further, unsure which direction you came from or which direction you should even go. Taking a deep breath you grounded yourself, slowly looking around in each direction.

There were no signs of anyone else around, your mouth running dry. This was too convenient, too easy. The sun was fading fast, your chance of finding anyone, nevertheless Cat Hunter or The Operator becoming slimmer and slimmer as it became dark. You patted around Jack’s coat, realizing you lacked a flashlight or any tools to create light. Logically you should’ve turned around, but the doubt of finding anyone in the direction you thought you came from confusing you. But you knew you couldn’t stand out in the open like this, the snow only falling heavier and the sky growing darker. There wasn’t anywhere for you to go, the forest feeling like one giant loop. Sighing you readjusted your grip on Toby’s hatchet, examining the trees around you.

The closest one to your left appeared to be hollowed out, the inside rotted and empty from the harsh winter season. You sucked in your stomach, sliding inside of the crack to step inside. Exhaling in relief the tree blocked the falling snow from landing on you. You brushed your hand over your hair, attempting to brush some of the snow off of you. Examining your hands you realized you forgot to put on gloves, your hands gleaming red as they attempted to fight off the freezing cold. You set Toby’s hatchet down, leaning it against the wood. You rubbed them together, trying your hardest to create some form of warmth. Your palms were tingling, losing feelings in your fingertips. Cupping your hands you took deep breaths, attempting to spread heat from your breath. You froze at the sound of footsteps, your heart pounding as you heard them come closer.

A piece of you was dying to peak your head out, desperate to find a familiar face. But the fear of it being Cat Hunter or The Operator kept you frozen, your eyes wide as you stared at the crack of the tree. You listened closely, tucking your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flickered upwards as an all too familiar yellow jacket walked by the tree, your fear temporarily subsiding. You grabbed Toby’s hatchet, pulling Jacks hood over your head. Just as you took a step to leave you froze, another set of footsteps crunching the snow harshly as they trailed behind Hoodie. You stopped, watching the crack of the tree intently. You almost didn’t recognize Cat Hunter, the proxy bundled up in a thick brown coat. His mask and freshly bloody claws gave him away though, your mouth running dry. You could hear the claws clink together, Tim’s blood still dripping off of them and staining the pure snow below.

Neither of them appeared to notice you, too occupied on their hunts for the other. It slowly hit you that Hoodie didn’t know Cat Hunter was there, your lover in the danger you had nightmares about. Nervously you pulled out the python, unsure how to even use it. Flicking it open you grimaced at the sight of the chamber being empty. No bullets. You glanced at the hatchet, gulping. You were left with no choice. With every ounce of strength you had left you flexed your fingers before gripping Toby’s hatchet, silently sliding out of the hollow tree. You took a deep breath in, trying to control your breathing and rapid heart rate as you stalked the infamous Cat Hunter. He seemed oblivious to your presence, flexing his claws as he followed Hoodie. You licked your dry lips, the skin now cracked from the harsh weather. As fast as you could you ran up behind him, knowing this was your only chance. With all of the strength you had left you lifted the hatchet, slamming the blade down into the unsuspecting Cat Hunter’s neck.

You had never thought about hurting anyone before. It wasn’t in your nature to be violent, nevertheless kill anyone. It hadn’t occurred to you what you had done until Cat Hunter’s knees buckled, shock overriding his system. You yanked the hatchet back out, tearing through the flesh as roughly as you could. You lifted the hatchet again, slamming it back down into the same spot. Blood splattered all over the snow below, as well as onto your cheeks. You cringed as the warm liquid decorated your face, your blood running cold as Cat Hunters body slumped to the ground. A wave of emotions crashed over you. Guilt, regret, mercy. But above all you felt one thing: spiteful.

A rage full screech left your lips, watching the lifeless corpse lose any form of animation. A pool of blood formed under his head, your mind spinning as your stomach churned with nausea. You lifted the hatchet again, vengeful as you chopped at his neck. You didn’t realize you were crying until your vision became blurry. You weren’t even sure what you were swinging at anymore. “Y/n? Hey? Hey!” Hoodie gasped, panicked as he rushed over to you. Your tears were threatening to freeze to your flushed face, Toby’s hatchet falling from your fingertips. Hoodies gaze fell down to the now beheaded Cat Hunter, his head completely detached from his body. A pile of unidentifiable flesh pooled out of his neck, spilling into the snow. You sobbed silently as you brought your hand to your face, trying to wipe away some of the tears.

“I’m s-so sorry I had to. He was after you,” You cried. Hoodie grabbed you affectionately, tugging you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your face to his chest. “Shh it’s okay. Don’t look. It’s okay,” Hoodie said quietly. He stroked your hair, your eyes fluttering shut as you buried your head in his chest. Hoodie stared down at the proxy’s corpse, his breath hitching at the sight. He knew it was a good thing for one enemy to be down and out for the count. But as he held you, your body shaking under him, he knew one was for sure.

That the worst was still yet to come.

—> next chapter

[bellaveux]

kiss of a vampire | w. maximoff

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: injured and alone, wanda finds herself out in the middle of the night, searching for the one person she can trust to help her. on that night, you find out what she truly is.

content warnings: 18+ minors dni. vampire!wanda, human!reader, victorian era, blood, very tiny mentions of homophobia, loss of virginity (?), smut! making out, biting, marking?, soft sex, fingering and oral (r receiving), praising

wc: 3.9k

note: surprise this is my singular contribution for kinktober hehe, happy halloween everyone!

Fall of 1863 in New York was more or less an uneventful time of the year for you. Your mother insists you read as many books as you can find in the manor’s library, and your father insists you go out and attend all those fancy balls and infernal tea parties—all in an effort to make you more presentable for any of your future suitors. It made sense for them to do so. Your mother was a respectable woman in the town, and she married your father, a man of riches, all thanks to that company he founded many years ago. You could honestly care less, not really having to do anything but read your books all day. Occasionally, in the evening when the sun has already set and you got too fed up with turning pages, you went out for a walk down that nice, pebbled trail through the woods, leading you down to that stone bridge over the river.

That’s where you met her. Wanda.

The moon was out. The sun was gone. She didn’t wear a fancy dress like you did the first time you saw her. She wore an unbuttoned vest over her white, well-made dress shirt, black pants, and riding boots to match. Her hair was red, and for a moment, you thought her eyes were the same color. It went away when you blinked, and suddenly, her eyes were green. You had never seen a woman like her before, much less someone similar in town. All the ladies and their voluminous skirts really only had boys, and gossip filled their daily conversations. It was tiring to be around them, but being with Wanda was relieving.

She told stories. Of adventures. Of distant lands you could barely imagine. She’d tell you about the sea, the moon, and the world beyond this little town you lived in. You found solace during your time with her, and you began to look forward to your walks through the woods every evening you could. She’s always there. Like she knows everything… She was your friend. And each time you met her, your heart beat faster than you’d like to admit, and your stomach fluttered whenever you thought about her. You always wondered, does she feel the same? You supposed you’d never find out, because who in their right mind would confess to having feelings for another woman?

Forbidden. Unthinkable. Criminal. That’s what they would say about you. So, you stayed quiet.

During the latest hours of the night, sometimes you’d see the glow of torches outside your window. You hear the noises first. A woman screaming. Pitchforks and shovels thrown up in the air, metal and iron clinking against each other. The sounds of arrows cracking through wood. Monsters, your father would say. They lurk out in the night, waiting and waiting until they come up to their prey and kill… You’ve heard the stories of those vampires, wolves, demons or whatever it is they are. You found it hard to believe. Even more so that so many people are afraid of what they probably haven’t even seen.

But then you see Wanda again. Not on your walk through the woods. Not on the bridge. A quiet knock is what you hear first. You look up from your book in surprise, then see her outside your window, clutching her shoulder in pain. She’s seated on the edge of your window on the other side of the glass, giving you a weak smile despite seeing how confused and worried you were. You rushed over and opened the window immediately, telling her to get in—of course, after you yelled—or whispered, really—at her for showing up at this ungodly hour.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing here?” You exclaimed as you pulled her into your room.

But the moment she winced in pain, you immediately pulled your hands back, afraid that you might have hurt her. You watch her move to lean against the wall underneath the window. She sighs in relief, still clutching her shoulder. Your gaze falls to her hand, right where you see the stains of red seeping through her dress shirt.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding…” You think out loud, carefully watching her as you hold your breath.

The faint glow of torches outside your window shows up in the corner of your eye—people bustling loudly in your street. You could see Wanda duck even further beneath your window, staring up at the ceiling as you began to put two and two together.

“No…” You shake your head and take a few steps back. “You’re the one they’re looking for, aren’t you?”

Wanda’s gaze softened as she turned to you. Her mouth opened for a moment to say something, but she sighed and laughed sheepishly to herself as she shook her head. Then, you see it in her smile.

She looked up at you again, with those kind and caring eyes you’ve seen on her from the moment you met her, “Please, don’t be afraid of me.”

“Your teeth…”

“I know,” she nodded. “But, I need your help. Please. I’m begging you.”

You didn’t know what to do. “Wanda.”

“They’ll come after me if you tell me to leave, (Y/n),” she reasoned, leaning up to show you she was telling the truth.

“Did you… Have you killed someone?” You could barely get it out.

“No!” She said, “I-I haven’t hurt anyone, I promise you! I-It’s my brother. I’ve been looking for him. He’s…”

“He’s what?”

Wanda sighs and turns away from you in shame. “He’s hungry. We… We haven’t eaten in weeks. He’s got a bigger appetite than I do… I-It’s harder to control him. I think he might’ve hurt someone tonight.”

You stare at her. Her eyes were red now. Her breathing was heavy. Her fangs darted out slightly past her parted lips. You take a second to process what she had just told you. And in truth, you should’ve been scared. You should have been throwing her out of the manor, calling for your father to deal with such a monster.

But to you, she was still… just Wanda. If she wanted to kill you, you’d imagine she’d already done it by now.

You left for a moment to head into your washroom in the corner your room where you tried to find all of the medical supplies you currently had. It wasn’t much—a wet rag, a few bandage wraps, and a kit for stitches. You returned with all the items in your arms, and Wanda looked up at you with a thankful smile.

You sat on the floor with her, your white nightgown bunching up against the wooden paneling. “I… I have bandages—”

Wanda shook her head, looking down to avoid your eyes. “Thank you… But, that won’t help.”

“What will?”

Her eyes bore into yours, but her mouth doesn’t move. She has that look on her face that tells you she's too embarrassed to say or ask for it. Her hands squeezed her shoulder in pain, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Tell me, Wanda.” You say firmly, your gaze unwavering, and for a second, you thought she was intimidated by you. She was, in truth, because of her feelings for you.

“Blood.”

You pause. Then, she repeats it again.

“Blood will… replenish my energy. I haven’t eaten, so I’m weak. On a good day, this wound would not even phase me.”

“My blood?”

Wanda nods. Your prolonged silence tells her that there is no way in hell you’d allow her. Her love for you has her hoping for the best outcome—that you’d have mercy on her and help her relieve the pain. But then again, you don’t owe her anything, and this was a lot to ask. The idea of asking felt impossible even though Wanda had already mentioned it, worried that you might refuse or be horrified by the notion.

“Okay.”

She blinks at you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. As long as you don’t turn me into a vampire or anything. I don’t mean it to offend you, but it would... complicate things.”

She nods once again, more eagerly this time. “You don’t have to worry about that. That’s, um… That’s a completely different process.”

“Okay,” you repeat, scooting closer to her, looking down at your dress and your hands as you begin to wonder if you should get a knife. “I-I’m not sure how to… do this.”

“Your neck.” She tells you. Of course.

You don’t ignore the way her red eyes darken and the way her ears perk up in excitement as you move your hair carefully to one side.

“Is it going to hurt?”

Wanda’s gaze softened at your words, “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

She watches you nod and holds her breath as she inches closer to you. Your sweet scent fills her nose with a much stronger fragrance than ever before. She has always loved the way you smelled. It soothed her in ways many other things couldn’t. It was divine, enveloping her senses each time she was near you, and she found herself utterly addicted. She had never been this close before tonight, her breath tickling the side of your neck. She could hear your heart beating fast as she moved closer.

You braced yourself, your heart pounding in anticipation for the expected pain of a vampire’s hungry bite. But it didn’t come. Instead, you felt Wanda’s soft, warm lips meet your skin, kissing it so gently in a way that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel her other hand, resting itself on the curve of your waist. Your breath caught in your throat, and your lips parted slightly as Wanda continued to press her mouth to your skin, littering your neck with the softest kisses she could possibly give you. You couldn’t help but notice the frailty and gentleness of her touches and her kisses, as if they were delicate and almost fragile.

Wanda was lost in the feeling of your skin. Every kiss left her craving for more, and she found herself losing control of the overwhelming desire she had been suppressing for so long.

You were so distracted by the soft kisses she left on you that you barely noticed the faint, almost imperceptible sensation of Wanda’s fangs piercing your skin. She was so gentle, and you expected much less when she had promised, but this… It felt too good. A moan slips past your lips as Wanda bites into you. Her first taste of your blood was nothing short of divine. So sweet. So warm. The most delicious thing she had ever put her mouth on. The flavor of you was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through Wanda’s body. Every second that passed as she drank from you, Wanda began to feel her weakened body begin to mend itself. It was as if your blood had breathed life back into her. Wanda’s senses sharpened, and she felt a profound sense of rejuvenation. The pain in her shoulder began to fade away.

Wanda pulled away from your neck, running her tongue softly against the bite, before turning to look at you. The prettiest thing she ever laid her eyes on.

And Wanda couldn’t resist. She pressed her lips gently against yours and sighed against you. You gasp at the feeling as she places her hands over your waist, then down to your hips, pulling you closer against her. A soft moan falls from your mouth and into hers, and Wanda can’t help but groan. She swiped her tongue on your bottom lip, and naturally, you opened up for her, letting her in to explore the expanse of your mouth, the slight taste of iron on her tongue.

Your lips were parted slightly, and your eyelids felt heavy. But you started to feel weak and lightheaded. You found yourself leaning towards Wanda’s touch, unable to hold yourself up without tipping over, and the next thing you knew, she gently scooped you up and carried you to her bed with her mouth still pressed against yours. Kissing you became the next addicting thing for her. Wanda hovered over you as she laid you down on your back.

She pulled away from the kiss and smiled softly, “You’re so beautiful.”

Her lips traveled down to your neck once more, kissing your skin softly as she felt your arms wrap around her neck. This time, you feel it when she bites you again, unable to stop the moan that escapes your mouth. Wanda smiled as she continued to drink softly from you, her hand reaching up behind your dress to pull at the string that was holding your nightgown together as you arch your back and pressed your front against her. Your dress comes loose with a simple tug, and your cheeks flush, a deep shade of red donning your face as you feel Wanda’s hand cupping and groping your breast over the fabric.

After she pulls away, Wanda kisses your skin again, her lips traveling further south and her face coming up in between your plush breasts. She moans against you, your scent filling her nose in the most addicting way. She could smell you. How aroused you were. How wet you were. And tonight, despite all that you’ve given her, she was feeling a little greedy.

“I want you. I want to make you feel good,” she tells you, her voice all breathy against your skin. “I want to touch you.”

“Please,” you begged her, running your hands in her hair as she began to pull the dress off of you, agonizingly slowly.

When your body comes into full view, Wanda can’t help but stare. She mutters a curse under her breath before letting her fingertips run along your stomach, your nipples, your hips, and your thighs, and Wanda feels like she’s in heaven.

“Stop staring,” you say, pouting shyly as the vampire continues to ogle you.

She only smiles, fangs darting past her lips, “I can’t, angel. You look so pretty like this.”

Wanda leans down to litter your skin with wet kisses and small bruises. She eventually makes her way down to your legs, holding your plush thighs in her hands, and she kisses you, running her tongue over each part that she kisses. You allowed her to spread your knees apart, exposing your glistening sex to her shyly as she leans over, her kisses traveling closer and closer to your wet core.

“Spread your legs wider,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of you.

You do as she says, your hands now gripping your bedsheets slightly. Her fingers make their way in between your folds, softly touching your opening. She lets them move up and down, collecting your slick and spreading it all over, down in between and up to your clit, where she presses slightly harder against your bundle of nerves. She sees you when you bite your lip to stop a moan from falling past your lips. Wanda smiled at the sight. Her love bites are littered all over your skin; the bite on your neck looked more delicious than ever, and your pretty face looked up at her like she was the only one who could ever make you feel like this. Hell, it drives her crazy.

With a new sense of determination, Wanda finally slips her cold finger into you, your tight and warm walls wrapping around her digit. She sighs and leans forward to lay her head against your tummy, watching closely as she pushes her finger in, then pulling out with a squelch.

“You’re so wet for me,” she thinks aloud.

She groans, listening to the delicious sounds of your softest whimpers as she fingers you. Another finger slips inside of you, pulling them in and out of your pussy at a faster pace. Your breathing got heavy. You could feel your stomach getting tighter, but before you could come undone, Wanda pressed her thumb to your clit, working you up to your orgasm. Her fingers are long, and she can’t help but add another one into your tight, dripping sex. Her other hand holds your quivering thigh down as you tremble against her.

“W-Wanda, I’m—”

Your mouth falls open at the feeling of being filled up with her fingers. She’s much faster now, curling her fingers into your walls sloppily as she continues to press your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your high. And then, it comes. Wanda travels up and kisses you, swallowing your moans as you fall apart on her fingers, cumming all over her hand. Your back arched and your legs jerked closed as she pushed your legs back open.

Wanda carefully pulls her fingers out of you, but she doesn’t stop rubbing your clit, making you shiver against her. She rubs it in tight circles as her kisses travel back down to your neck, where she takes another greedy bite into your skin, welcoming the taste of your divine blood into her mouth once again. She groans when you pull her hair slightly, getting drunk off of your essence and the way your hands feel on her head.

When she pulls away, she kisses you again. And when she pulls away for a third time, she makes her way down your body, traveling through the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, and then her destination—back in between your legs. Her nose nuzzles against your clit, your scent filling her senses all over again.

“W-Wait, Wanda this is…”

You had never done this before. And now that Wanda was face to face with your glistening pussy, you got shy. Wanda only looks up at you and smiles, pressing gentle kisses along your inner thigh.

“I want you,” she reminds you, pulling you closer to her face. “I want to be the first one that makes you feel good. I want it to be me. Only me. Inside of you. I want to see how pretty you’ll look when I have my mouth on you.”

She says it so absentmindedly, her eyes not leaving the sight of your pussy as she spreads your lips apart with her thumbs. You couldn’t help but blush at her words, your face getting hotter each time you felt her breath on your pussy. You felt like time was ticking so slowly, with Wanda staring at you for what felt like hours. You grew tense with anticipation, waiting and waiting for her to do something. And when she finally does, your jaw drops, and a silent moan falls from your mouth. Wanda memorizes every little noise you make, the way you arch your back, or the twitch of your thigh.

She was in heaven. Your inner thighs glistened with arousal as she held you down against your bed, noting the way your hands made their way back to her red hair. Your body was a hot, trembling mess right underneath her as she devoured you, licking every space she could reach with her tongue.

When Wanda looks up and sees your mouth wide open in silent screams, arching your back off of the mattress, your soft hand tugging at her locks in a pitiful attempt to slow her down, she knows you’re close. She grew desperate. She keeps licking you, eager to get you closer and closer to your climax. You’re chanting her name as quietly as you can, eyes closed shut as the pleasure keeps building and building inside of you.

“Wanda, I-I’m about to—”

You whimpered, your legs closing around Wanda’s head. She hummed into your pussy and continued to eat you out right as you came into her mouth. She ran her tongue through your folds and over your clit softly, easing you through your orgasm with a satisfied moan. Wanda practically forced herself away from your sex, wishing for nothing but more time with you. She pulled back and sat on her legs to stare at the beauty right in front of her. She rubbed your soft thighs in soothing circles with her hands as she smiled down at you. You trembled slightly, still shaking from the orgasm she had given you.

You reached out to her, your weak arms lifting from the bed, wanting to be in her embrace again. She obliged happily, leaning down to hover over you once again. Wanda kissed you up your neck, to your jaw, and, lastly, to your lips, the taste of you still lingering on her tongue. She moaned against you and smiled into the kiss when she felt your hands slide from her neck to cup her face.

Then, you remembered.

You pushed her away softly, just so you could look at the blood stain on her shirt, where an arrow had struck her earlier tonight.

“I’m okay, now,” you heard her say.

Running a slow and gentle hand over her shoulder, you took a peek, pulling the fabric down a little bit to see her wound, but nothing was there.

“It’s gone,” you said in awe.

Wanda smiled softly at you as you continued to inspect her shoulder. You looked so beautiful. So unafraid of her. And it made her the happiest woman on Earth. She sighs and leans down to pepper a few kisses on your cheek, still surprised by her healing abilities. But you got distracted again, feeling her soft lips against your skin. The light of a candle on your night table danced across the room as she kissed you. Wanda was so gentle. Like she promised.

After a moment, Wanda turned to look out your bedroom window, where she had come in. Her senses immediately took notice of how quiet it was and how dark it was outside. The night embraced the world outside of your bedroom, blackness stretching as far as her eye could see. It was different from the warmth she felt in this sim room—a room with you, her love. It reminded her of the world and now, the secrets you both carried together.

Your voice pulled her out of your thoughts. “You have to go, don’t you?”

Wanda smiled, knowing you already knew the answer to your own question. “Your mother would throw a fit if they found me here.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at the thought, smiling sadly as you begin to play with the fabric of her shirt.

“I’ll come see you again, angel. I promise you.”

“Tomorrow?” You ask, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.

Wanda turned her attention back to you, and her heart skipped a beat. You were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Unable to stop herself, she leaned down and kissed you once more.

“Tomorrow,” she said firmly.

With one final, lingering kiss on your lips, Wanda whispered three little words. Then, with a graceful and silent movement, she made her way over to the window through which she had entered. Wanda disappeared into the night, leaving the room she made love to you in. You lay in bed, contentment washing over you as a soft smile played on your lips. She was different from the stories you’d hear about vampires. People called them monsters, and even though you only knew Wanda, she was miles and miles away from being one.

You missed her already.

But just as she promised, you saw her again the next day. This time, with more kisses and closer encounters.

— navigation!

[kidconsky]

Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.

> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.

Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.

> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.

After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins ​​what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...

No one even considered his feelings...

> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.

The biggest problem for me about them being cousins ​​is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.

> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.

Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:

• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.

• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.

• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.

• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.

• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.

• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.

• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.

• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.

• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).

• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).

• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...

This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.

[gatheringbones]

[“Later in the day, while Heather and I were making the bed and talking about the chores we needed to get through the next morning, she used a male pronoun in regard to me. “Well that’s gonna be weird, huh?” I said. “Not saying ‘he’ for me anymore.” “What do you mean?” she asked. “I mean I want to transition. I want to become a woman… fully.” She paused and fell silent. I think the revelation that I was a transsexual truly hit her in this moment. She slowly started to comprehend that this didn’t mean I’d simply be cross-dressing around the house. It started to hit me, too. I wanted to transition genders, and there was a lot more to that than just hormones and surgery. Neither of us fully understood what it meant yet, or where to start.

The next day Andrew and James met me at the studio to talk about plans around the album and the future of the band. Jordan came, too, as he was again filling in as our manager. Until then, I’d been telling them that I was writing a concept album about a transsexual prostitute—the metaphor behind the feeling of having whored myself out to a record label was thinly transparent since James, Andrew, and I were all processing our own post-traumatic stress disorder from the past couple years of music industry hell. Previously, I’d been able to sneak a few subtle metaphors about my dysphoria in here and there. But an album focused entirely on it? I didn’t know how to explain that, and the new songs were not sticking with the guys.

James could make out a few lyrics to the title track through his in-ear monitors: “You want them to see you like they see every other girl / But they just see a faggot.” “Hey, man,” he said between takes. “Are you saying ‘faggot’ on this song? It sounds like you’re saying it a lot. Are people gonna be cool with that?”

I realized that the reason the words weren’t connecting with them was that they didn’t have the context. So I came out with it. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted them to understand. I couldn’t hold back the momentum of the day before. Once the truth was spoken, it could be contained no longer.

“It’s about me, and how I’m a transsexual. This is something I’ve been dealing with for a long time,” I told them. Once I started explaining it, I couldn’t stop. It was like an out-of-body experience where I saw myself, but was powerless to hold back the flood of words. “I want to start living as a woman, and to be referred to as Laura. This is something I’ve thought about a lot and isn’t going away, so I might as well embrace it.”

No one knew what to say once I finally stopped rambling. The three of them just sat there in the studio control room, looking down at their feet or at whatever lit-up piece of audio equipment their eyes could find, focusing anywhere but on me. We’d had some heavy conversations over the years—emotional moments where we’d told each other off or outright quit the band—but nothing compared to this. Andrew’s usually warm smile was locked in since I started talking, and it looked like it was going to melt off his face. His skin flushed red, trying not to flinch. There was nothing any of them could say. I broke the silence by asking them to come smoke a joint with me. We got high standing in a circle in the open back doorway. “OK, well,” I said. “I guess that’s all we’ll do today. How about we try again tomorrow?”

We shared the most comically awkward group hug, a horrible mess of pats on the back and overly extended stiff arms. They left, and I locked the door behind them. Oh fuck, I thought. I called Heather and told her that I had just come out to them. It felt unreal to speak these secrets aloud, hearing myself verbalize thoughts that had only ever existed in my head.

The guys had an hour and a half back to Gainesville to think about all that had just been unloaded on them. James has since told me that as he sat there stoned on that long drive home, a lot of memories over the past 15 years suddenly started to make sense for him. My lyrics, my behavior on tour; one by one, he had tiny flashes of realization about me in this new light.”]

laura jane grace, from tranny: confessions of punk rock’s most infamous anarchist sellout, 2016

[leavemebetosleep]

do you have any good fluttercord fic recs?

OH BOY DO I. In no particular order (except of when I thought of them):

1: Non-Entity by Captain Wuzz: An AU in which, instead of being turned to stone, Discord was shot in the head with a magic arrow that takes away his sentience and magic for a 1,000 years. Fluttershy mistakes him for a wounded animal and brings him home. I loved it so much.

2: Chaotic Neutral by C-Puff: The magic is starting to fade from Equestria, and the Main 6 and Discord go on an adventure to find out why, and reverse it. A bit of AU, in the sense it was written before the show was done, so it diverts in some places because of that. Super sweet, and I love the character development here.

3: Time is Taller than Space is Wide by Dott. Can also be read on Ao3 if you prefer. Soulmate AU (?) fic with a Groundhog Day style twist. I rarely see fics play with the idea of what if Fluttershy and Discord's friendship had started when they first met, so this is fun.

4 & 5: Blank and it's sequel Reconnection by @geekcat. Can also be read on fanfic.net. AU in which, before Discord can choose friendship over ruling Equestria, Twilight remembers a "reformation" spell. He is stripped of his free will, and Fluttershy does her best to bring him back. If you don't like the idea of Twilight being a villain, you might not like this one, but I think her villain arc in this is done in a perfect way for her character. It's super heart wrenching in many places, but in a good way.

6: Our Fair Lady of the Chaos Lord, also by GeekCat Can also be read on fanfic.net. Fairy tale inspired AU in which Fluttershy is a princess who's father is pressuring her to marry noble knight Sir Big Mac. Wanting to be sure he's a good person, she makes a deal with the Chaos Lord, letting herself be "kidnapped" so she can test his character. You can guess who she falls for instead. Honestly I've enjoyed all of GeekCat's fics, so they're getting an extra mention. Check out the rest of their fluttercord fics if you like any of these.

7: The Draconequus with the Dragon Tattoo by A M Shark This is a major case of, strange premise, kick ass results. Basically an AU based off Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson, with Discord as Lisbeth, and Fluttershy as an amalgamation of Mikael and several other characters, but focusing more on the murder mystery aspect of that book, and less on the...everything else. If you're familiar with GwtDT, don't worry, there's no rape scenes. Again, it's more about the murder mystery part. If you're not familiar with GwtDT, then don't worry again, because you don't need to know the original to enjoy it. It's just Discord and Fluttershy playing detective and solving a murder together. It has two sequels, but I haven't read them yet, and it didn't feel right to rec something I haven't read.

8: The Corpse Bride by Bad Horse. Dark fic. No relation to the Burton movie. Fluttershy dies in a tragic accident, and Discord brings her back from the dead as his zombie wife. Her friends (sans Pinkie) are horrified. Has a fantastic twist ending. If you like some of the darker stuff, def worth a read.

Bonus: Comic rec: The Last Adventure by Eveeka. Taking place after the final defeat of Tirek, Cozy, and Chrysalis, Discord gets into a depressive funk after shouldering the hatred from Ponyville citizens for his latest actions, but also because his friends seem to never be available anymore. He starts to think maybe Equestria would be better off without him, as he can't seem to exist with out making everyone miserable, and decides to hide away in the Everfree forest. Fluttershy, worried when he doesn't show up for tea, asks her friends for help, only to discover there's a monster running lose there he and the rest of Equestria might be in danger from. This fic has two endings, so keep reading even when it seems like it's over. You've got one more ending left. This one nearly made me cry.

[edges-of-night]

Hi! I'm sure everyone tells you this, but I absolutely love your writing. Seeing your new posts always brightens my day :) It's a silly request, but could I ask for the elves reacting to a reader who's a Starfleet officer/from the Star Trek universe? TYSM and sorry if this isn't what you usually do

Thank you for your kind words, anon! It always brightens my day to hear that this blog brings people joy ♡

As for your request: People who’ve seen my main blog will know I’m a Trekkie, so I couldn’t let this classic fandom crossover slide haha! I’ve turned Reader into a Vulcan working as a Starfleet officer who ends up in Middle-Earth by accident (damned transporter interference…)

Enjoy the read and – of course – live long and prosper!

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen is probably one of the best inhabitants of Middle-Earth to run into if you’re stranded in an unknown place. Whether you get beamed into Rivendell or to the riverbends of the Bruinen, the Elven lady is quick on her feet and recognises you as someone in need of help – especially when others speak of you with great suspicion. “Do not listen to their words. They have no meaning where my heart is concerned.”

Arwen is kind and curious, making it increasingly hard for you to follow the Prime Directive. She must not know about your starship, but of course it is senseless to try and hide your worries from her attentive gaze. Though she might not know of your dilemma exactly, she promises to help you find your way back home and always wants to make sure you’re comfortable in this strange world, being openly affectionate and sometimes even touchy with you – until she sensed that holding hands meant a bit more to you than an Elf… ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

The Lord of Rivendell, Elrond, works almost as logically as a Vulcan, which impresses you. He is a master of knowledge and a lore expert with a vast collection of literature at his disposal. I like the idea that maybe the Prime Directive would not even concern him because he has heard of star-faring people but always considered them legends, until he met you.

Not only is Elrond an intelligent conversationalist – he is also the most considerate and kind host you could have wished for. He respects your drive for finding a solution to your problem but also endows you with comfortable quarters to retreat into, as well as a vegetarian menu to eat. To further help you clear your mind, he’d invite you to a session of harp playing. The music is soothing, not too different from your Vulcan lute – and yet entirely new – fascinating!

.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

The Lady of Light knows of your presence in Middle-Earth even before you yourself do. She immediately senses that something is off and delights when she finally gets to meet you. “How nice to have a face to the stranger on our earthly shores,” she’d whisper in your head. Her fascination with you is intense and maybe even scaring you a bit. However, logic suggests you have nothing to fear of her.

Galadriel’s resources and ancient knowledge, as well as the futility of upholding the Prime Directive, make the search for a way back to your ship easy. Before you go, however, Galadriel would ask you to join her telepathic palace – which you agree to. Her mind meld is more powerful than any you have ever performed before. It gives you a glimpse into her internal lights that are eons olds and yet young and beautiful. To remember it, Galadriel would give you a strand of her legendary hair as a parting gift ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Honestly? Haldir running into a Vulcan might be the funniest combination in this post – the stone faces would be off the charts! At first, the beautiful Elf and his ability to hide his emotions (minus his thinly veiled contempt) would fascinate you, as well as his matter-of-factly duty of keeping you out of Lothlórien. Maybe you’d point out, “It would seem we are both simply following our orders.” – “Indeed.”

However, you can be just as silent and stubborn as Haldir, so the two of you would probably spend an entire night just staring each other down, until he has had enough and finally escorts you to his Lady to make you her problem instead of yours. It is obvious to him that you do not belong here, so his sense of duty makes him care for you – which he would never admit to, of course!

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Initially, Legolas would think of you as a fellow Elf lost in Mirkwood, which is good for the Prime Directive but bad for someone as untalented with lying as you. Eventually, you’ll informed him of your suspicion that the two of you belonged to entirely different species. He would ask you about your body then, as well as your workplace and perhaps your family. But after the friendly ‘getting to know you phase’, Legolas knows your weaknesses and will try to mess with you – in a playful and non-hostile but all-too Human way, testing your patience and logic alike.

That said, he will do what he can to help you get back to your world and ask many questions about it. “What is it like? To fare the stars as if they were islands in an ocean? What does the moon look like up close? Oh, there is no moon in your world? There hasn’t always been one here, either. Look that way… up, silly, not at me! You see it…?” ♡

By the way: The young Romulan warrior Elnor, a main character from Star Trek: Picard, has an Elvish name according to the showrunners. One meaning of “el” (as in the names of Elrond and Elros, for example) is star, and “nor” means run. In both Sindarin and Quenya, dear Elnor’s name roughly translates to “Star Trek”!

Being candid and brash, a skilled fighter and absolute sweetheart, I think he’d get along splendidly with dear Legolas, for example...