#originalfemalecharacter

[jordyn-b-barnes]

Moon & Stars - Beautifully Broken For Your (on Wattpad & Ao3) 

Syd reveals a hidden part of her past. Bucky and Steve reconnect. An unexpected guests is dealt with. 

**New chapters posted every Sunday** (AU/not canon compliant)

[cjbourque3321]

Moon & Stars - I Can't Begin to Tell You (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1363193146-moon-stars-i-can%27t-begin-to-tell-you?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=JordynBBarnes&wp_originator=6I4QArgwdRcJdiAMeG7OQOXEA7pbjGTO2m46cUtXAqAch0WgBHCTNFeqUpDJOr33vUPTlWkhsmc%2BWuiA4i3boSoCy9HjHqIwUh5Kr5M1%2FdOcv9ja%2BshL7JlYv0w9flUe You look...happy? Bucky leaves Wakanda and returns to the States to try to figure out life again. Sydney is a newer member of the team that Steve hopes will help Bucky. Can he adjust to life after his time with HYDRA? **New chapters posted every Sunday** (AU/not canon compliant)

[3kr-2187]

Light Under the Shadow of Black Wings - Ch. 15 𓆰𓆪

summary: ❝​🇭​​🇴​​🇲​​🇪​ ​🇮​​🇸​ ​🇧​​🇪​​🇭​​🇮​​🇳​​🇩​…​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇱​​🇩​ ​🇦​​🇭​​🇪​​🇦​​🇩​…​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇳​​🇾​ ​🇵​​🇦​​🇹​​🇭​​🇸​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇹​​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇩​…​🇹​​🇭​​🇷​​🇴​​🇺​​🇬​​🇭​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇩​​🇴​​🇼​, ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇪​​🇩​​🇬​​🇪​ ​🇴​​🇫​ ​🇳​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​…​🇺​​🇳​​🇹​​🇮​​🇱​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇹​​🇦​​🇷​​🇸​ ​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​…​🇲​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇩​​🇴​​🇼​, ​🇨​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇩​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇸��​🇭​​🇦​​🇩​​🇪​…​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇫​​🇦​​🇩​​🇪​…​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​…​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​…​🇫​​🇦​​🇩​​🇪​…❝

"You have to stop." she whispered urgently. "You're placing too much of this war onto your own shoulders, when you have hundreds of men behind you willing to help you carry it."

Her words evidently managed to pull his attention back up to her face, his eyes only a little bit wide at her declaration. Underneath his suddenly intense gaze, she felt her throat begin to grow dry.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰, she wanted to say but simply could not find the courage to do so in that moment…

author's note: ​all credits go to jrr tolkien and peter jackson. i only own deora and her story.

blog masterlist || previous part

⊰∙∘⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⊰∙∘

On the morning of the coronation itself, Deora had been faithfully watching the main gate as hundreds upon hundreds of people from all corners of Middle Earth began to pour into the walls of their fair city. But once the hour of the ceremony approached them, she had been all but forced to retreat back to the palace level in order to fulfill her second duty of the day.

Standing in front of the tall mirror in her humble bedchamber, that lived in a building adjacent to the main palace, Deora tugged at the intricately decorated skirt of the long, dark blue dress that now adorned her body. 

If her memory served her right, that was the first time an article of clothing such as that ever so much as touched her skin. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t recognize the person staring back at her in the reflection, for it truly was just her in a dress, with her hair carefully curled so that it framed the edges of her face. But for some reason or another, she felt just the smallest twinges of unease swimming through her veins as she continued to glare softly into the mirror.

A shape suddenly appeared just over her right shoulder, gentle arms slowly wrapping themselves around her waist. 

“You alright, my love?” Faramir asked as he placed his chin atop her semi-exposed shoulder.

Deora nodded, her hands winding themselves tighter in the fabric of the dress.

“I just…feel a bit ridiculous.” she admitted in a whisper. “I do not think I was meant to wear clothes such as these.”

“No?” he questioned, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “A shame. Because you look absolutely breathtaking.”

Deora tried extremely hard to hold back the flush that was attempting to crawl up and onto her face.

“Flattery is not going to get you anywhere, my lord.” she muttered with a defensive roll of her eyes.

“I don’t know-” he hummed thoughtfully, bringing one of his hands up to lightly tug at her ear, both of which had already turned a bright red color. “It looks like it got me somewhere.”

Playfully batting his hand away, Deora severed eye contact with his reflection.

“Come on. We’re going to be late.” she said in a quick whisper, making a move towards the distant doorway. But before she had been able to fully slip out of his hold, Faramir added a slight amount of pressure to her waist, gently forcing her to spin around to face him instead.

Seeing that his gaze had hardened into something slightly more serious, Deora instantly fell still.

Faramir reached up, gently brushing a curl away from her face.

“Our kingdom changes today.” he said quietly. “For the better. And in this new world, a world that you sacrifice so much to defend, I would have you realize that everything good that comes your way... you were meant to have it.”

Deora stared back at him, briefly dumbfounded by his proclamation. She had never voiced those kinds of insecurities out loud before, and yet he had managed to pluck them from deep within her mind with seemingly little effort at all. His ability to do that was bordering on supernatural, but just as in every other instance, she always found herself eternally grateful for it.

A small breath escaped her throat as she placed her hand underneath his chin in order to urgently guide his lips to hers.

The two of them remained in that moment for as long as their human lungs allowed them to do so. And when they did eventually separate, Deora braced her forehead up against his.

“You always did know how to talk pretty.” she whispered.

Faramir let out a short sigh.

“I am perfectly serious.”

Deora stepped back slightly so that she was able to look upon his entire expression. With a smile, she nodded her head in acknowledgement.

“I know.” she hummed. “Thank you, Faramir.”

The man slowly smiled back at her before quietly offering her his arm, which she took without hesitation.

⊰∙∘⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⊰∙∘

Thousands of bodies had packed themselves into the main courtyard of Minas Tirith, while an uncountable amount of others populated the winding streets below. 

At the top of the few, pristine white stairs that cascaded down from the entrance to the Great Hall of the palace, Aragorn stood poised in front of Gandalf. The dwarf, Gimli, was holding in his hands the brilliantly crafted crown of the true King of Gondor.

The White Wizard carefully took the crown out of Gimli’s hand, before carefully placing it on top of Aragorn’s head, where it inevitably rested with what seemed to be predestined perfection.

Deora stood in the first cluster of people that were positioned at the base of the staircase, just in front of a line of palace guards; the men that she now commanded. Faramir stood to her left, and a line of rulers of other kingdoms and clans stretched passed him and down towards the White Tree.

“Now come the days of the king.” Gandalf proclaimed with a smile. “May they be blessed.”

Aragorn returned the Wizard's smile before slowly turning out to face the crowd himself. His hands rose slightly out in front of him as he began to address those collected in the majestic courtyard.

“This day does not belong to one man, but to all.” he said, his voice softly booming out across the entire mountainside. “Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace.”

His words were instantly met with rounds of applause. Those who were holding small buckets of petals collected from the trees throughout their kingdom, began to steadily release them up and into the air, only adding to the magic of the moment.

Back on the top of the stairs, Aragorn momentarily closed his eyes, beginning to sing the oath of Elendil, to bless the beginning of his rule:

“Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn’ Ambar-metta.”

The King then descended down the stairs, beginning to walk a small path through his people. Cheers and applause echoed out on either side of him as he shared a smile with close to every single person that he passed by. 

Deora had briefly forgotten to bow to their new King, far too caught up in the splendor of the ceremony itself. An action that earned her a gentle, but mocking jab in the ribs from the man standing at her side.

As Aragorn made his way further down the makeshift path through the courtyard, he was suddenly intercepted by a rather large group of Elven royalty. Leading the charge, was Prince Legolas. Deora off-handedly learned over the short time that the king had been in the city, that the two of them were close, having been raised together in their youths.

The man and elf clasped each other’s shoulders for a moment. Due to their distance, those back by the stairs couldn’t hear the words that had been spoken in between them, but then behind Legolas, the crowd of elves suddenly parted, and two more forms began walking towards their new King.

The one to the right was easily recognizable as the King of Rivendell himself, Lord Elrond. The one to the left, they could not see at first, for their face was mostly obscured by the large banner of the White Tree that they were carrying.

A smiling Legolas stepped to the side as the elf holding the banner took another tentative step forward. And when it was ultimately moved aside, a beautiful, fair, brown-haired elleth was revealed to them. She wore a beautiful dress of silver and a matching circlet that rested on the crown of her head. She had immediately fallen into a hesitant curtsy in front of Aragorn.

The crowd grew increasingly silent, watching on as Aragorn reached down, gently encasing the side of the elleth’s face in apparent disbelief. He had then quickly tugged her towards him, and the two fell into a loving embrace in front of the gathered masses. Immediately, their actions had been met with whoops and hollers of elated celebration.

It seemed that Gondor now had a Queen as well.

Deora caught herself smiling widely as the pair continued on through the crowd together.

Approaching the edge-most part of the courtyard, Aragorn once more came to a stop. Again, due to their great distance, they were not made privy to the words that had been spoken, but slowly they began to see the waves of movement that were making their way through the entire crowd, as all the people in the courtyard began to kneel in reverence. 

As more and more heads continued to disappear in front of them, Deora was finally able to make out where their King was leading the charge, kneeling directly in front of four overcome-looking Hobbits.

Deora blinked a few times to banish the tears brimming in her eyes as she smiled and joined her kingdom in offering her thanks to those who had truly saved their world.

⊰∙∘⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⊰∙∘

In the evening of Aragorn’s coronation day, but before any of the rowdier celebrations had begun, Deora was standing inside of the throne room alongside a few other members of the palace guard. They were positioned at the back of the room, carefully watching the scene that was playing out before them.

Sat in the previously vacant throne of their kingdom, was Aragorn, only looking mildly uncomfortable with the spectacle of it all. At his side stood the elleth from the ceremony, who Deora now knew to be Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. Upon their meeting, the elven princess had greeted her with the kindest of smiles, informing Deora that she relished the sight of a female soldier.

Kneeling at the base of the small staircase, was Faramir, who had just proclaimed to their King, should it please him, that he would forfeit the office of Steward. As it appeared no longer necessary with the true heir now back on the throne.

A rather long pause had followed his words, Aragorn taking a considerable amount of time to collect his thoughts. Ultimately though, the man had risen from his chair, carefully walking down the short flight of stairs in order to stand where Faramir was kneeling at its base.

Deora’s eyes followed him intently as the king placed his hand on Faramir’s shoulder, silently urging him to rise.

“I believe that to be foolish.”

Faramir blinked, his surprise felt by nearly everyone else in the room.

“M-my king?”

Aragorn smiled warmly.

“The office of Stewardship will remain, as someone will need to watch over Gondor in any case of my absence.” he said wisely. “Tales of your service have reached my ears on more than one occasion. And I would entrust no one else with such a task. As long as your line shall last, you and your descendants will always be Stewards of Gondor.”

Deora felt her chest swell at the sound of the King’s words. To see Faramir finally getting the recognition that he deserved was a welcome change to be sure. And it had certainly been a long time coming.

Faramir bowed his head reverently.

“Thank you, my king.”

Aragorn patted him on the shoulder again, much in the way a brother would.

“I would also like to request that you take on the Wardenship of our Eastern outpost. To rehabilitate our lost territories and clear out the remaining outlaws and Orcs that linger there.” Aragorn continued more officially.

Faramir quickly nodded, straightening out his spine a bit more.

“Consider it done, my lord.”

Aragorn slipped his hand off of Faramir’s shoulder, instead folding it behind his back. As he did so, Deora’s head tilted to the side slightly as she took note of a small glint in their King's eyes. If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn that it was one of near-mischievousness.

“I have one more thing to ask of you, if you would be receptive to it of course.”

Faramir blinked in confusion.

“Anything, King Elessar. Be it within my power.”

Aragorn smiled again.

“I will issue an official proclamation later, but I would like to appoint you, Faramir, son of Denethor, to be one of my Commanders. I would name you Prince of Ithilien.”

A careful silence fell over the room. And in a moment of forgotten decorum, Faramir’s mouth had fallen open in surprise.

Deora’s eyes widened, having to work hard to force back the gasp that had attempted to crawl up and out of her throat. The hands she had folded behind her back clung onto each other even tighter in that moment.

“I…I do not know what to say, my King. This is an honor most undeserving-”

“Nonsense.” Aragorn was quick to chastise. “You nearly gave your life in service to this city and its people. You are a wise man, Faramir. A wise and honorable man. I will have you accept this title.”

Deora had felt her expression wane ever so slightly upon hearing words that she had spoken repeatedly over the past decade coming out of someone else’s mouth.

Now the war that she fought, and everything that they had gone through during that time, finally felt worth it.

After a beat of silence, Faramir slowly nodded his head.

“I will serve my king and the people of Ithilien to the best of my ability.” he said in a near-whisper.

Aragorn smiled once more. Then, in an action that surprised all of those standing in the throne room, he brought Faramir into a tight and fierce hug.

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The festivities after the coronation were unlike any that Deora had ever seen take place within the walls of Minas Tirith.

It hadn’t been until that moment that she truly realized how dark the times she had been raised in actually were. She could not remember a single festival that had taken place inside of the city, let alone something of this caliber. The entire kingdom was lit up with bright and shining lights, jamborees, and even some fireworks (a spectacle courtesy of the White Wizard of course). Meals were devoured, drinks were had, and all around everything was incredibly bright and merry.

Despite being absolutely awestruck by all that she was seeing, Deora grew tired quicker than she had anticipated. And after making sure that she greeted all of those that she considered friends, she retreated back to her chambers after only spending a measly three hours amongst the masses.

It was late into the night, the moon hanging high up in the sky by that point. The sounds of the celebration were now at enough of a distance where they were effectively muffled. But she did take comfort in still being able to hear the edges of the happiness permeating her city.

Emerging from the washroom, now donning her night clothes, Deora blinked in surprise upon finding that Faramir had seemingly followed closely in her footsteps. 

He had ditched his official dress wear and now stood in the window in just his plain, white blouse and tan trousers. The moonlight was bathing his entire form as he stared out at the horizon.

She allowed herself to smile at the sight for a moment longer before folding up her clothes and moving across the room to place them down into their respective drawers.

“I’m surprised you left the celebration so early.” she called out, gently announcing her presence. 

Faramir looked back over his shoulder with a tired smile.

“I can only have the same conversation with a drunk soldier so many times.” he jested.

Deora let out a light laugh at that.

“Yes, well. I do suppose you should take the time to enjoy your last few moments as a soldier amongst them, no?”

Faramir quirked a single eyebrow as she stood back up, turning to face him with a small grin.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Deora shrugged her shoulders playfully.

“Prince of Ithilien… I don’t imagine you’ll have much more time to drink amongst your men.”

Faramir’s eyes narrowed slightly as he began to dissect the expression on her face. There, he could see, even in the shadows of their dimly lit chambers, the slight twitch at the corners of her mouth. Which easily gave away the fact that she was holding back an even wider smile.

“You’re making fun of me.” he finally said, stepping away from the window.

Deora bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.

“Oh no.” she said, shaking her head. “I would be much too frightened to make fun of a Prince.”

Faramir was quick to cross the room after that, his arms immediately materializing around her middle. The laugh that she had been holding back was jostled out of her throat as he spun them around several times in the middle of their chambers. 

For a moment, the two of them were children again, running across the courtyard together in the light of the sun. For a moment, they were playing pretend again, slaying dragons and fighting together side by side.

Once the world stopped spinning, Faramir returned her feet to the ground, but continued to sway them lightly from side to side, using the distant sound of the kingdom’s residual celebrations as some sort of soft tune for them to absentmindedly dance to.

“You do know, when we marry, you’ll have to adopt the title of Princess.” Faramir noted casually. “So, you should start getting used to a title as well.”

Deora’s expression immediately blanked, falling still in his arms.

“When?”

Faramir tilted his head to the side.

“What?”

Deora swallowed.

“You said ‘when we marry.’” she replied, her voice softer than she intended it to be.

Faramir immediately let out a small huff of air.

“Well, yes.” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Did you…did you think I wouldn’t ask for your hand, Deora?” 

Deora rolled her lips over each other, briefly severing eye contact in order to stare out of a distant window. Not really looking at anything specific. 

“I suppose I never really…thought about it.” she ventured carefully. “A lot of things have been changing around here as is, so I didn’t-”

A cold knuckle appeared beneath her chin, as Faramir gently guided her attention back towards his face. Which had since been washed over with a gentle, yet serious expression.

“My flower…” he whispered reverently. “We’ve already sworn never to leave each other’s side, have we not?”

“We have.”

With a flicker of a smile, Faramir’s hand lightly settled around the curves of her chin and jaw, ever so slightly keeping her held in place.

“I would have asked you that day you returned from the Black Gates, had I had my wits about me.” he declared. “But when I ask you to marry me, when I get down properly on one knee…will you accept me?”

At the end of his sentence, she could clearly hear the twinge of anxiety that peppered his words.

“Faramir…” she sighed.

“I know that there have been times…” he began again. “I remember when you had to slam me against the rocks of Henneth-Annûn in order to talk sense into me. I know I gravely disappointed you back then. As I imagine I have a multitude of times over the years, so…so I would understand if you had…reservations-”

Deora quickly interrupted him with a bold kiss. Pressing up on her tiptoes so that she could match his height, she attempted to speak a proclamation into the action itself. To silently explain to him just how much her heartbeat for him, and him alone. 

When they separated, Faramir was staring back down at her with confused wonder.

She tempered her smile as best she could, her hands falling down his chest only to wind her fingers into the soft fabric of his flowy, white blouse. And even though she wasn’t pressing her palms flat against his sternum, she could still somehow feel the steady thump of his heart beating against his ribcage. That told her that she got her point across, at least a little bit.

“Faramir, I slammed you into that cave wall because I was terrified. Not disappointed. I was terrified that I had lost you to the horrors of war, to the horrors of your father, or even the power of that damned Ring.” she declared boldly. “You have never disappointed me. Never. And…and I have been yours for far longer than I would ever dare to admit. And I always will be. Title or not.”

A relieved sigh traveled through his body, and Faramir reached up to place a hand on top of the ones that were curled into his shirt, purposefully pressing her hand down against his chest just a little bit more.

“No disappearing then?” he asked in a whisper.

Deora beamed, the corners of her eyes beginning to burn with the happiest of tears.

“No disappearing.” she confirmed. “You have my word.”

Faramir leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers with a purpose.

“As you have mine.”

[THE END]

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blog masterlist || previous part

[ladymonterosa]

A chaotic awakening - Jordan Li (on Wattpad)

 The reader wakes up with a slight headache and the feeling of having slept uncomfortably, immediately recognizing the chaotic environment of her partner Jordan's room. The previous night's party is still a blurred memory of music, laughter, and kisses under neon lights. When she realizes it's late and classes are about to start, she tries to wake Jordan, who has no intention of getting up.

[ivorymagpie]

Hereafter // Sebastian Sallow x Original Female Character (Post Game) (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/338039652-hereafter-sebastian-sallow-x-original-female?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=IvoryMagpie&wp_originator=Yv7EmsT8EQqouqRKHYsflttUkrWE2uawYSS7GkYkK0euLEmCPudwbjURs%2BwcN6i4Ago1yfyePuR0FGMKCt6sPUsyLl5u5SVSW6vYykiEy1W8DdlxDi4op6Ss%2B16oIF9t  Chapter Six is up!! Please vote, share, and comment if you like this story!

[drades-lair]

First Meeting

Fandom: HelluvaBoss

Pairings: Female OC/Loona

rating: T for mild swearing

Calus and Calypso made their way up to the dilapidated building where IMP made their headquarters eliciting a surprised look from Calypso.

“Is this really where they’re office is?” Calypso wondered looking up at the crumbling building.

“Yep, they’re on the second floor,” Calus confirmed gesturing for Calypso to follow him into the building.

Nodding Calypso followed Calus into the practically falling apart building honestly surprised when the elevator worked. A short distance down the hallway they came to a door with crappy handwritten letters in black paint that said ‘IMP’ on the glass. Calus opened the door to simply walk in with no hesitation, the lobby of the so-called office was fairly small with peeling wall paper and holes in the walls however it was the receptionist that caught Calypso’s attention. A hell hound sat scrolling on her phone behind a desk only looking up when she seemed to recognize Calus.

“Hey Loona, Blitz in?” Calus asked casually.

“Yeah, he’s in his office,” Loona confirmed gesturing to a door that said ‘Blitz’s office’ on the door again in crappy hand painted lettering.

“Perfect,” Calus declared moving towards the door allowing Loona to see Calypso more clearly.

“Whoa, are you another Dracony?” Loona asked with a star struck sort of look on her features.

“Yes, my names Calypso. I’m a friend of Calus’,” Calypso introduced.

“Right, I forgot you two hadn’t met yet. Calypso helped on the job I just did for Blitz,” Calus explained.

“Cool, I’m Loona,” Loona introduced a little awkwardly.

“Pleasure,” Calypso responded with a smile.

Calus walked over to Blitz’s office door rapping on it with his knuckles moments before Blitz yelled from the other side for him to ‘come in’. Calypso wondered around the lobby while Calus talked shop with Blitz, mostly admiring the impressive fish tank along the one wall. Loona sat fidgeting behind her desk clearly trying to find some way to start small talk with Calypso.

“Um…so…your wings are…really pretty,” Loona stammered out awkwardly.

“Ha-ha, thank you. So, how’d you end up here?” Calypso chuckled turning to look at Loona.

“Oh, Blitz gave it to me after he adopted me,” Loona briefly explained.

“Blitz adopted you?” Calypso asked seeking clarification.

“Yeah, he calls me his daughter,” Loona continued with a nonchalant shrug.

“That’s sweet of him, do you live with him then?” Calypso asked curiously.

“Yeah, I’ve got my own room in his shitty little apartment. Do you do the whole assassin thing like Calus and Striker?” Loona wondered.

“Not really, I help Calus on occasion but mostly I do bodyguard work,” Calypso answered taking a seat on the edge of Loona’s desk crossing one leg over the other.

“I see…that’s cool,” Loona shyly retorted averting her gaze to the side away from Calypso.

“Some say it’s lazy work, but I feel my skills are a little more suited to it,” Calypso continued with her explanation.

“I don’t think it’s lazy…bodyguard work can be dangerous just like assassin work. Um…can I ask how old you are?” Loona wondered trying desperately to not be obvious.

“I don’t mind, I’m 26.” Calypso simply responded with a small laugh.

“Really? Only 26? I mean…that’s cool…I’m 21 so…we’re in the same age group,” Loona chuckled nervously as she tucked her hair behind one of her ears.

“Go figure,” Calypso chuckled again at the adorable hell hound’s stumbling.

“Yeah, we should…maybe…hang out sometime…” Loona suggested managing to be bold for a moment, yet a pink blush painted her cheeks.

“I think…that is a great idea. How’s about we go to this awesome club I discovered in the lust ring? Tomorrow? 8 o’clock?” Calypso suggested with a seductive smirk.

“Really!? I mean, Yeah, I’d love to!” Loona swiftly agreed as the blush deepened on her face.

“Excellent, here’s my number.” Calypso stated, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen then writing her phone number down on the piece of paper for Loona.

Calypso barely slipped off the desk when Calus emerged from Blitz’s office with the crimson imp in toe, smiling pleasantly Calypso walked over to them. Blitz gave a smile in turn as he walked up to Calypso, extending a hand for her to shake which the Dracony accepted.

“You must be Calypso, pleasure to meet you my names Blitz the O is silent,” Blitz greeted happily.

“Pleasure is all mine,” Calypso assured the imp with a warm smile.

They chatted for a bit before Calus managed to get him and Calypso away from Blitz, waving over his shoulder as the two Dracony strode out of the office. Calypso shot one final look towards Loona over her shoulder with a wink causing Loona to swoon a little, tail wagging happily in anticipation for their date the following evening.  

[luminouslywriting]

Masterlist

Masters of the Air: Here :)

The Pacific Masterlist

Dead Poets Society (Go ahead and send in requests :)

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Band of Brothers Fanfic Masterlist

MOTA Fanfic Links

Requests and asks are open :) Just no explicit smut will be written. Spicy asks—go for it though.

Updated 12/26/24

John Brady:

Brady and Pregnancy Headcanons

Clair de Lune Baby Drabble

John Brady Dilf Drabble

JB w/a girlfriend who gets turned on by his strict attitude

Fights with John Brady + Makeups

Brady with a handsy lady

Brady dating a woman on base

Brady when he's injured

Brady with a woman easily turned on

Brady being involved in your hobbies

Jealous Brady

Brady w/a secret admirer

The Snow Stork

Car Sex With Brady

Domestic John Brady

John Brady & Serious Arguments

Brady Being Turned On by Angry S/O

How John Brady asks you to be his girl

Brady when his S/O gets injured

Brady and a religiously interested S/O

Going Dancing With John Brady

Brady and an out of wedlock pregnancy

Brady’s first time

When You Make the first Move

John Brady & Brat Taming

Brady w/DeMarco's Sister

Brady and a Breeding Kink

Gale Cleven:

Pregnancy and Domestic Headcanons with Gale

Kitchen Sex w/Gale

Being Gale's first

Domestic Gale Cleven

Gale Cleven & Spankings

Bucky Egan:

Bucky coming home to you wearing his jacket

Bucky being involved in your hobbies

Bucky w/an anxious SO

Bucky and a reader with a panic attack

Bucky and a physically insecure reader

Domestic Bucky Headcanons

Bucky as a brat tamer

Robert Rosenthal:

Rosie is Clearly Wendy Material

Rosie & Brat Taming

Rosie & Kisses/Affection

Rosie and a weekend away

Rosie and teasing

Being Rosie’s First

Domestic Rosie

Rosie and his authority kink

Rosie and massages

Rosie Being Teased

Rosie with a tipsy/giggly/touchy girl

Rosie's handsy lady

Rosie When He's Sick

Rosie & A Jazz Club Singer

Rosie & A English Girl

Rosie & Cuddling

Rosie after a long day

Ken Lemmons:

Ken Lemmons and his wife

Ken Lemmons and an S/O w/high libido

Everett Blakely:

General Relationship Headcanons

James Douglass:

General Relationship Headcanons

Douglass & Blakely:

Throuple Headcanons

Hambone Hamilton:

General Relationship Headcanons

Hambone and Dirty Talk

Harry Crosby:

General Relationship Headcanons

Bubbles:

General Headcanons

Charles Cruikshank:

General Headcanons

Curt Biddick:

Falling in Love With a Nurse

General MOTA Headcanons:

MOTA Men W/a Single Mom

MOTA men + hobbies

MOTA men w/ a shy and anxious S/O

MOTA Men when their S/O tries a new style

MOTA Men when their S/O tries a new style part 2

MOTA Men & The RAF Pilot Incident

MOTA Men & Spicy Letters

MOTA Men As Dads

Married Life W/Lemmons & Hambone

MOTA Men & Pregnancy

MOTA Men & Infertility

MOTA Men & Infertility Part 2

MOTA Men Taking Care of You When You're Sick

MOTA Men When Their S/O Has A Tattoo

MOTA Men w/a tomboy S/O

MOTA Headcanons in the Modern Age

MOTA Men w/Relationship Issues

MOTA Men w/A Girl Who Lost Her Eye

[slytherinsomniari]

Hogwarts Legacy: Solace and Sorcery Chapter 1-The Beginning

Hello! I have just published the first chapter to my very first ongoing Hogwarts Legacy fanfic, Solace and Sorcery! I would very much appreciate it if you went and read it, even give feedback or leave a comment or like! Here is a small excerpt with the links to both Wattpad and Ao3 down below :)

"A loud crack tears through the sky and the lightning comes a bit closer. It was only when a stray bolt came mere inches from her cottage that she looked up.

'W-what’s happening?' She asks herself quietly, tears streaking down her face as she looks around. Light had flashed and she now realizes that a storm is happening around her all while she is mourning. More things come into focus as she retains her perspective of everything around her. She feels…a hum of sorts around her. This hum is followed by a vibration in her hands, giving her an odd feeling in her body. It didn’t hurt–rather it felt like something was happening to her, something she couldn’t explain. Looking down at her hands, the tears freeze in her eyes as they become wide, recording what she is seeing below. Her hands are enveloped by a bluish white light, exactly the color of the flash of light she saw earlier. Upon seeing this, she does what any depressed, grieving, shocked young girl would do and passes out."

[fandomaniaimagines]

The Descendent: Prologue

Fictional Universe: Avatar The Last Airbender

Pairing: Eventual Sokka X OriginalFemaleCharacter! (I love a good slow burn.)

POV: First Person

Word Count: 1,842 words

Warnings: description of panic attack in chapter ending

Summary: Aira is a descendent of the air nomads. Her family's ancestors escaped the Fire Nation's initial attacks on the Air Temples and settled into a small Earth Kingdom village. 100 years have passed, and the war rages on. Their village has remained untouched by the war thus far, but what happens when Aira discovers that air benders may not be extinct after all?

Notes: This is one of my first attempts at writing fan fiction. I've loved ATLA for years now, but I've always felt that there's just not enough Sokka fics out there. So I'm doing myself a self-service by taking a crack at this writing thing. This is the prologue to what I plan to be a very long multi-chapter story that follows Aira and the Gaang through the entirety of the show. I'm not sure if it'll be good, but hey, I've had fun writing it so far. :)

When I was a young child, my mother would tell me stories of the great Air Nation, a community of nomads that were raised to be carriers of wisdom, peace, and spirituality. They didn’t have a fixed home and were always moving from place to place. Throughout their travels, air nomads would spread their knowledge to other nations, encouraging people to connect with the world around them. My friends at the time told me that all air nomads were killed by the Fire Nation 100 years ago, but Mother would still talk about air nomads like they were alive. In fact, she would practice a lot of their traditions, including spiritual training and meditation sessions. During these sessions, she would share stories of the spirits from the spirit world and how they help our world maintain balance in nature. 

“All life is sacred,” Mother says, “all humans, animals, and plants have a rightful place on this planet–”

“What about scorpion bees?” My eleven year-old-self asks with a scrunched look on my face. Mother’s shoulders drop as she wipes her hand across her face. I throw my hands up in defense and pout, “What? They’re gross and mean!” I pout as I think back on the time I stumbled across a nest of scorpion bees whilst playing in the forest. My face and neck were covered in itchy bumps for days. 

Mother sighs with a soft smile and crouches down so we’re face to face. “I understand Aira, but even scorpion bees need to be respected. This world is one large collection of living things. We make up a single ecosystem that relies on constant balance. If that balance is disrupted, the world would turn to darkness and chaos. But you and I are a part of that system, so it is our responsibility to help maintain balance by showing respect to all forms of life, even ourselves.. A-and scorpion bees.” 

“Ourselves? What do you mean by that Mother?” I questioned. 

“We are living things, are we not? We can’t be expected to maintain balance in the world around us without maintaining the balance within ourselves. Showing respect and kindness to yourself is the first step in finding balance within your own mind and body, only then will you be ready to help others do the same.” Mother sits down on the floor in our living room, her legs crossed and feet resting on the opposite thigh. She smiles warmly as she holds her hand out to me, “Join me in meditating darling. Take a seat, close your eyes, and relax your mind.”

I take one look through the window in our home’s common room; I see by the sun’s position in the sky that it’s solar noon. I mimic Mother’s position, close my eyes, and try to calm my mind. My ears tune in on Mother’s deep slow breaths and I begin to match her rhythm. As we breathe in sync, my mind begins to clear and my body physically relaxes. I breathe in through my nose and exhale through my mouth, slowly, again and again. The longer I meditate, the more aware I am of my breathing, and the less aware I become of the outside world. A tingling feeling begins in my stomach and spreads throughout my body. It feels as though a current of warm water is flowing through my chi paths. As my thoughts tune in on this new and interesting sensation, I’m awakened from my meditative state. 

As I open my eyes, it feels as though hours have passed, however, looking outside through the window of our house, I see the sun is positioned slightly past half noon, meaning barely any time has passed at all. I recall what Mother once said, “Timelessness is a sign of a successful meditation. Transcending time in a meditative state helps oneself to be fully present in the “now”, which is key towards reaching enlightenment.”

I smile to myself. I've been hesitant about my Mother's teachings in the past, but now I finally seem to be grasping things. I believe one of the reasons for my past hesitation about her lessons is how different our family traditions are from the other families that live in our town. Mother says our family’s ancestors don’t hail from this nation. She says their home was destroyed a long time ago and they were forced to flee here. Our family still follows their traditions as a way of keeping their memory alive. 

The tingly feeling that began during my meditation starts to feel stronger. I can feel it passing through my body. The energy rises upwards towards my neck and face, and I begin to feel very warm. My nose tickles and–ah ah ah choo! I sneeze so hard that I fly several feet into the air and straight through the thin material of our house’s poorly made roof. I fall back down through the hole I just created with my body, landing roughly in front of Mother, directly on top of the roof’s rubble. 

“Aira!”

================================================

It’s been one hour since we found out I’m an airbender. I’m quite surprised to say the least–most kids my age discovered their airbending abilities years ago–but I’m also quite excited. I can airbend! After Mother checked me over for injuries from my fall, multiple townspeople rushed into our home, anxious to confirm what they just witnessed–Aira can airbend. And I wish I could say that the townsfolk took it well… but they didn’t. Some people were afraid that the news of my air bending capabilities would spread and that the Fire Nation would invade our town. So they banished my family immediately, with claims that they’re protecting the other townspeople. Mother and I understood the reasoning behind their decision because we value the safety of our community, but I still felt anger towards them. We’re being forced to leave our home with nowhere to go. 

“This is our home! How can they just kick us out? We’ve done nothing wrong!” I shout angrily as I begrudgingly pack my essentials–a spare change of clothes, a water pouch, a sleeping pack, and some dried fruits and legumes. As I pack, my hands are sweating and shaking from anger. Mother kept silent as she stuffed her pack with items similar to mine. 

“We mustn't argue with the town, Aira. Us leaving ensures the safety of their people, our people.” Mother seals her backpack and puts it on, before grabbing my hand and hurrying out the front door of the home that I was born and raised in, leaving me to wonder if I’ll ever step foot in it again. I felt my chest ache as I thought about the life that I was being forced to leave behind. 

Mother and I walked through town in a hurry, intent on getting on the road as quickly as possible, away from the people that cast us out like strangers. In our scurry out of town, we stumbled upon two of our neighbors–Kaito and Mei Le, a kind middle-aged couple that we’ve shared many fond memories with. Our families have grown close throughout the years. They were both openly against the idea of our banishment. The couple attempted to dispute our banishment, but they were outnumbered in their argument.  

As we approached Kaito and Mei Le, I realized that Mei Le was crying. Kaito had his arm around her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. We all formed a group hug, relishing in the comfort of our found family. 

“I hate to see you go,” Mei Le stiffles through tears. She handed over a bag to my Mother, filled with medicinal herbs, non-perishable food items, and other traveling essentials. “Please take this, may it help you on your journey.” Mei Le smiles and hugs us each one more time before stepping away towards her husband. 

“Thank you both for your kindness. I’ve grown to appreciate our friendship. I hope to see you both again soon,” Mother smiled sadly as she began walking towards the edge of town. And together, we left behind the only home I’ve ever known. 

================================================

That evening, we made camp in a small clearing in the middle of a dense forest. Mother says it’s best if we stay away from civilization unless completely necessary. The forest is lush with vegetation, making it ideal for foraging. There’s also a freshwater stream nearby so we have access to fresh drinking water. 

Mother and I lay in our respective sleeping bags, side by side in front of the campfire we built hours before. The orange flames dance in the darkness as the fire burns brightly. Mother has remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout our journey. She typically radiates a warming presence that draws people in like an owl-moth to a flame. Mother can be so lively that it’s sometimes exhausting. But the only sounds I can hear right now are from the burning of the campfire and the chirping of the wildlife in the forest around us. During our walk today, Mother’s shoulders were slouched, as if she was carrying the weight of one thousand platypus bears on her back. Her eyes were cold and hard, and her lips were downturned. She hasn’t said a word to me since we left town. 

I know she must be upset with me. I mean, I am responsible for all of this. We were banished because of my air bending abilities–abilities that we didn't even know I possessed until hours ago. Why did my airbending abilities appear so late? And am I the last airbender? My friends said all of the airbenders were killed off by Fire Nation during the war. Will the Fire Nation try to kill me too? I feel an ache in my chest. My vision gets cloudy and dark, and my ears begin to ring. I call out to Mother for help. 

“Aira! What’s wrong honey?” Mother jumps from her sleeping bag and rushes to my side. She helps me sit up and tells me to calm my breathing. Mother starts to breathe deeply, exaggerating her movements to help me visualize her breathing pattern. Her hands are clenched tightly onto my shoulders, her thumbs caressing my arms. I closed my eyes, began to sync our breathing, and cleared my mind. As I physically relax, Mother lays me back down on my sleeping bag and moves hers closer to mine. She lays next to me and begins to run her hands through my hair. 

“I’m so sorry Aira,” Mother cries “I should’ve been there for you today.” I open my eyes and stare at Mother. She’s already looking at me, tears running down her cheeks. But she’s smiling. “I love you, darling, and I’m going to do everything I can to protect you.” Suddenly, she gets a serious look on her face and stops caressing my hair, “Which is why I need to ask something of you. Something I know you won’t understand. You have to promise me that you will never air bend again.” 

[jordyn-b-barnes]

Moon & Stars - Dreams Can Come True (on Wattpad) 

Syd’s back in the field, but Steve and Bucky have a surprise or two for her.

END OF BOOK ONE, BOOK TWO STARTS MARCH 31st.

**New chapters posted every Sunday** (AU/not canon compliant)

[3kr-2187]

Light Under the Shadow of Black Wings - Ch. 14 𓆰𓆪

summary: ❝​🇭​​🇴​​🇲​​🇪​ ​🇮​​🇸​ ​🇧​​🇪​​🇭​​🇮​​🇳​​🇩​…​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇱​​🇩​ ​🇦​​🇭​​🇪​​🇦​​🇩​…​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇳​​🇾​ ​🇵​​🇦​​🇹​​🇭​​🇸​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇹​​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇩​…​🇹​​🇭​​🇷​​🇴​​🇺​​🇬​​🇭​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇩​​🇴​​🇼​, ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇪​​🇩​​🇬​​🇪​ ​🇴​​🇫​ ​🇳​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​…​🇺​​🇳​​🇹​​🇮​​🇱​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇹​​🇦​​🇷​​🇸​ ​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​…​🇲​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇩​​🇴​​🇼​, ​🇨​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇩​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇩​​🇪​…​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇫​​🇦​​🇩​​🇪​…​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​…​🇸​​🇭​​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​…​🇫​​🇦​​🇩​​🇪​…❝

"You have to stop." she whispered urgently. "You're placing too much of this war onto your own shoulders, when you have hundreds of men behind you willing to help you carry it."

Her words evidently managed to pull his attention back up to her face, his eyes only a little bit wide at her declaration. Underneath his suddenly intense gaze, she felt her throat begin to grow dry.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰, she wanted to say but simply could not find the courage to do so in that moment…

author's note: ​all credits go to jrr tolkien and peter jackson. i only own deora and her story.

blog masterlist || previous part || next part

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Deora gingerly ushered her horse back through the main gates of the city limits. She was painfully bruised, her skin littered with both shallow and deep stab wounds. 

But somehow, she had remained standing.

Back inside of the walls, the city was a flurry of movement. People had immediately met the army at the entrance, many of them crying in a combination of relief and devastation. They helped to usher both injured and uninjured horses alike back into their stables, while healers and wardens descended on the members of the army themselves. Backboards made of wood were shuffled out in order to carry some of the more dire situations up and into the waiting hands of the Healing Houses.

Deora found herself wandering the streets completely alone, in what could be best described as a daze. She had made sure that her horse had been taken care of, and had clapped arms with some of the Rangers that she could find, in some cases even sharing looks and occasional words of comfort. But ultimately, she ended up by herself. Watching on, unfocused, from the sidelines as people reunited with friends and family, or more often than not, delivered news of their fellow soldiers’ deaths.

Like a zombie, and with no particular destination in mind at that moment, she followed the path of the spiraled, cobblestone streets up towards the top layer of the city, slowly but surely closing in on the palace grounds.

Once she broke out onto that level, she had been approached by several different healers. She did her best to wave them off, saying that there were others who needed their skills more than she did, and that her particular injuries would ultimately heal on their own. But they had insisted, and Deora had been on the verge of beginning a verbal altercation, when suddenly, someone had called out her name high above the brewing chaos.

The voice had been soft, yet bold. Like a pleasant breeze in a late springtime afternoon. It cascaded down from the road above, echoing off of the walls to her right before eventually landing in her ear. There, it made a nest, much like a bird would amongst the branches of a tree. A familiar warmth quickly spread throughout her chest as she picked her head up to look over and beyond the shoulders of the group of healers.

Her eyes found the form that was standing at the top of the incline, just a few meters up the road from where she stood. And the moment that they did, her body was immediately rocked with powerful recognition. For she would know him in any light, in any season, in any dark corner of Middle Earth.

It felt as if she hadn’t seen his face for an entire year, rather than just a few hours.

But there he was, standing of his own power, his skin shining with new life. His left arm was resting gently in a temporary sling made of white fabric, but otherwise he looked practically unharmed. His eyes were bright, reflecting the sun that had begun to peek out through the clouds above them, and his mouth was parted in what appeared to be some level of relief.

A short breath tumbled out of Deora’s throat, and before she knew it, she was pushing past the nurses and tearing up the street herself.

Crashing directly into Faramir, Deora immediately wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. Simultaneously taking care not to apply too much pressure against his injured arm, she wound her fingers into the fabric at the top of the light blouse that he had draped over his torso. She felt his body shake with a gasp as he returned her gesture by wrapping his good arm around her waist.

Everything inside of her was screaming not to ever let him go. For she was convinced that this was some sort of hallucination. Certain that her battle-shaken brain had merely conjured up the image of him in some warped attempt to lift her spirits. But as his shoulders rose and fell underneath her chin, that suspicion quickly seeped away, relief filling her body instead.

When she did inevitably pull back from the man, she held his shoulders out in front of her at arms-length, eyes quickly darting across his face.

“How could you leave me like that?” Faramir had practically shouted at her upon seeing her face again.

Deora scoffed in disbelief, shoving his non-injured shoulder back and away from her with only a little bit of force.

“Hypocrite!” she spat. “You- you charged into an unwinnable battle without me at your side! You were dragged back by your horse with two arrows lodged in your chest! I saw you on a funeral pyre, Faramir! Don’t you dare accuse me of leaving! You left me first!”

A tense silence quickly fell over the two of them as her words bounced off of every stone structure in their immediate vicinity. 

Both pairs of eyes took a quiet moment to dance across the other's expression, each of them slowly coming to the realization that they had begun sobbing. For matching rivers of tears were cascading down both their cheeks.

Deora felt a tremor pass through her body, as Faramir shook his head a few quick times.

“Do not, ever, leave my side again.” he suddenly demanded in a breathless whisper.

A soft scoff immediately escaped Deora’s nose.

“Is that an order from my Captain?” she asked, once more tracing his complex expression with her eyes.

The man visibly swallowed, his hand falling from around her waist. Instead, he had reached up, resting it against the side of her face. There, it lingered for a moment, his thumb swiping past one of the smaller cuts on the upper part of her cheek. Then slowly, he reached further back, so that his palm gently landed on the back of her head.

“It is a plea.” he corrected, adding only the smallest amounts of pressure to her skull. “A plea from the man who loves you.”

Deora’s eyes immediately widened, unable to stop her breath from catching in her throat. The part of her head that his hand was resting upon suddenly felt as if it were burning. The thought of hallucination came to the front of her mind yet again. For this couldn’t be real. She hadn’t even been certain that she was going to live less than an hour ago. And now her best friend, the man who had stood by her side in a way that no one else ever had, was standing before her. Alive. 

Alive and saying that he loved her.

“You…?” she whispered, blinking a thousand times in an attempt to prove to herself that this wasn’t a dream.

Seeing this, the corners of Faramir’s mouth quirked upwards before he eventually began to nod his head a few, frantic times.

“Yes.” he whispered reverently. “Yes. Always.”

Deora immediately dropped the hold that she had on his shoulders. Instead, her palms flattened themselves out along either side of his jaw, tugging his face forward the few final inches that separated them, in order to press a rough and purposeful kiss onto his lips.

She felt him sigh against her, relief seeping out of his very pores as his fingers wound themselves tighter in the tangled strands of hair at the back of her head.

Deora was relentless. It was as if she were starving and had finally been granted a morsel of food. For she attempted to consume him, to memorize the feeling of his lips against hers in case it would be the very last thing that she would ever feel in her time on this earth.

This was it, she realized. The crest that she wore across her chest signified the culmination and achievement of her lofty goals and staunch ambitions. But as her thumbs gently dragged themselves across the tops of Faramir’s cheeks…that signified the true manifestation of her dreams.

For it wasn’t her pride that was satisfied in that moment, but her soul.

Their inevitable parting was slow, as neither of them truly desired to initiate it.

Faramir had immediately braced his forehead up against hers as they took a moment to breathe the same air. Breaking out into a sweet, but true smile, his hand fell from the back of her head only to gently rest once more along the side of her face.

“My flower…” he whispered lovingly.

A tearful laugh escaped Deora’s throat as she immediately surged forward to kiss him again.

The bustling sounds of the city continued to drone on around them, but neither paid it even an ounce of attention. For all that seemed to matter in that moment was each other. All that seemed to exist was each other.

There would eventually come a time where Deora managed to coax him back up and into the Healing Houses. And once inside, she had been much easier to convince in terms of accepting care for herself.

But neither of them left the other’s side.

As they had promptly sworn never to do again.

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Gandalf stood inside the throne room of Minas Tirith. Both chairs behind him were still vacant, as they were set to remain until Aragorn was finally crowned at his coronation. 

A date that was now fast approaching. 

Standing in front of the wizard, was a lightly armored soldier, donning nothing more than a leather chest plate across their torso. Not even a sword was strapped to their side.

“The Eagles were able to rescue Frodo and Sam from the side of the mountain.” he was informing them. “They are recovering in Rivendell, under the diligent eyes of Elrond and his people. Aragorn insists on remaining at their side until they are fully healed.”

Deora let out a heavy breath, briefly resting a hand on top of her chest, just above the intricate depiction of the White Tree that was etched in the center of her breast plate. She hadn’t exactly permitted herself to dwell on the fates of the Hobbits after the battle at the Gates of Mordor. To think about it was to instantly bring immense pain to her heart.

Now, relief was flooding it instead.

“Thank you, Gandalf.” she whispered. “This news is…it sets my mind much more at ease.”

At that, the wizard managed a genuine smile. 

“I must say-” he began, leaning slightly against his new staff. “-you wear ‘Head of the Palace Guard’ very well, young Deora.”

The woman did her best to temper whatever wild, near-childish smile had wanted to make an appearance in that moment. 

“Yes, well-” she swallowed. “There is still much to do in order to rebuild our city. I am just grateful to help wherever I can.”

Footsteps suddenly sounded from behind her, and she could see Gandalf’s eyes flicker briefly over her shoulder, his irises immediately igniting with a playful twinkle.

“Well then, I should take my leave of you.” he said, leaning on his staff a bit more. “I will send a missive when we are to begin the journey from Rivendell.”

Deora gently bowed her head.

“We eagerly await your return, Master Gandalf.”

The Wizard smiled, humming lightly in response. His eyes flickered over her shoulder one last time before eventually turning towards the main doors and disappearing outside.

When the doors closed behind him, Deora let out a soft breath before tilting her head over her shoulder. Just in time to watch as the intermittent Steward of Gondor crossed the rest of the throne room in order to place himself directly in front of her.

Deora greeted Faramir with a slightly sarcastic bow. Her actions immediately rewarded with a smile. A bright, real, and overtly warm one at that. 

She had always loved Faramir’s smile, but it simply meant more in those days. For it was a smile that she knew was only meant for her. A smile that somehow managed to say a thousand words at once.

“Leadership suits you.” 

The corners of Deora’s lips twitched slightly as she let out a soft hum.

“I know.”

Faramir tilted his head to the side.

“You always did, didn’t you?”

Finally, the soldier released her smile from its containment.

“As I hope my Captain did as well.” she retorted playfully.

Faramir, smile never faltering, reached out to grab a gentle hold of one of her hands, from where they had been resting at her sides. He swiftly brought it up to his face, pressing a gentle kiss onto the back of her knuckles.

“He did indeed.” he mused in a quiet, but earnest tone. “Walk with me?”

Deora accepted his invitation, as most of her duties for the day were already complete. She allowed the Steward to lead her on a quiet, and pleasant stroll about the palace grounds. 

Eventually, the two of them emerged out into the main courtyard, their pace only slowing when they arrived at the base of the White Tree. Which, even though the battle for Middle Earth was a memory of only a few weeks past, was already beginning to rebloom with magnificent white flowers.

The sight immediately made Deora smile in spite of herself. She reached out with her free hand to gently run two fingers across the petals of the bushel closest to her.

Feeling Faramir suddenly tighten his grip on her other hand, she glanced back over her shoulder. With a smile, the man simply nodded his head back towards the tree.

“They still remind me of you.” he said sweetly. 

Deora dropped her hold on the flower, turning her entire body back towards the man at her side.

“I think you have adopted that title now, don’t you think?”

Faramir quickly shook his head.

“I would certainly not bear it as beautifully as you do.”

Deora hummed, reaching her hand up to gently cradle the side of his face.

“I disagree.” she mused, as Faramir continued to stare back at her in awestruck wonder. “For you have always been the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes upon. And now, you have finally begun looking back towards the sunlight after years of being trampled over. There is simply no one more deserving, Faramir.”

Faramir’s eyes were shining as she spoke, and when she stopped, only then did she notice the single tear that was beginning to travel down the side of his face.

Immediately, Deora wiped it away.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he asked in a whisper.

Deora immediately let out a soft laugh.

“Perhaps a few times.”

Faramir reached up to place his hand on top of the one she had resting against his cheek, dragging his thumb a few repetitive times along the backs of her knuckles.

“I will spend the rest of my life repeating it.” he said suddenly, his tone a bit more serious this time around.

Deora let out another laugh.

“You do not have to do that, Faramir.” she replied. “Just being here with you is…more than I ever dared to ask for.” Her voice had started to waver a bit inside of her throat as she made it to the end of her declaration, suddenly finding herself overcome by her emotions.

Seeing this, Faramir had instantly pulled her back towards him, and the two fell into a tight embrace beneath the White Tree.

Beyond their position, a beautiful sunset that neither of them had paid a single bit of attention to, warmed their forms as Deora clung onto Faramir’s shoulders a bit tighter. With her face buried into the crook of his neck she felt, first time in her entire life, like she truly belonged somewhere.

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blog masterlist || previous part || next part

[ificouldhelpyouforget]

Dillion's Where the Heart is Masterlist (Tim Riggins x OFC)

Summary: Isolated for her love of art over football, Catherine Barton doesn't keep many friends. She cares for people, but some people don't care much about her. Because of her helpful and caring heart, Catherine finds herself in the life of Tim Riggins, a guy she's known most of her life with minimal interaction. She can't help but let him find a place in her big heart.

Follow Catherine and Tim through their growth together as they learn how to navigate life in Dillon and navigate their own relationship.

** means the chapter has a potentially triggering situation/topic in it

Savin' Your Ass

I Don't Want the Attention

Sort of Friends

Let's Party

High School is a Bitch

Back in Dillon

Down to Mexico

Pantherama

I Don't Like That Guy

Messy Weather

I Love You, Tim Riggins

Bad Always Comes With the Good**

I'm Sure

What About After High School?

Texas Forever, Street

33's Comin' Home With Me

Goin' to the Chapel

I'd Rather Be in Dillon

Love and War

Puppy Love

We'll Be Okay

It's All For Billy

How is He?

Re-adjustin'

A Long Way From Texas

Do Ya Wanna?

Work to Do (BONUS)

Reconciliation (BONUS)

My Favorite Subject (BONUS)

I'm Gonna Marry You (BONUS)

There and Gone (BONUS)

What Do We Do Now? (BONUS)

[hikarikurai24587]

So I made a small mistake yesterday with this picture, I meant for her ears to be like bear ears but my sisters pointed out that they looked more like panther ears. So I fixed that.

[princessmisery666-library]

Can We Talk

Summary: This story is about the five moments that changed the course of Sam and Hayley’s lives that always started with; “Can we talk?”

Warnings: fluff, smidge of angst, Bobby’s death mentioned, friends to lovers, slow-ish burn.

W/C: 5.6k

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFC (Hayley) Mentioned: Bobby, Jody, Donna, Alex, Claire, The Fitzgeralds.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x OFC (Hayley)

Notes: Set season 8 onwards.

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 1: Prologue of Mastermind

A/N: And we're off! Here's the prologue, so I hope you all enjoy it! I'll be posting chapter 2 next week :)

December 8th, 1941

Everyone would remember where they were when the news hit the radios.  When every single person in the United States came to a halt, stopping whatever work they were doing, whatever conversation they were having, and just sat and listened to President Franklin D. Roosevelt speak about the attack. 

Ruth Sharpe had just finished helping her parents with breakfast when the breaking news had hit the radio station.  “Sit down, Ruthie!” Her mother hissed, tugging on her arm.  But Ruth couldn’t bring herself to sit down.  So she just stood there, clutching at the kitchen sink as she listened to the horrific news. 

“Yesterday, December 7, 1941 a date which will live in infamy, the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that Nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its Government and its Emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American Island of Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.” 

This was war—Ruth knew it in her bones.  Her mother had burst into tears as she sunk into a kitchen chair.  Her father sat solemn, eyes trained blankly on a wall.  It was war all over again, and he had already served and done his time. 

Everyone in the Sharpe home was silent.  Even Mary, Alice, and Sarah—all of whom frequently argued with one another about nylons or lipstick and having to share—they were all completely and deadly silent. 

“It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.” 

There would be no peace.  Ruth knew that.  They had watched the news-reports closely.  All of their family in Europe had already disappeared in the wake of the spreading Nazi agenda.  All of their cousins, all of their grandparents, there was no sign of them.  Their letters returned unopened and the horror had already struck the Sharpe family in deeply personal ways.  

But for Japan to attack?  That hadn’t been what Ruth was expecting. 

“The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.” 

Silence crackled in the home.  And Ruth watched as the next oldest sibling rose to his feet—Jonah was practically tearing towards the door.  “Where are you going?” Their mother spluttered out. 

He just locked a solemn gaze onto the rest of the family.  “There’s going to be a war.  I’m not going to sit here and wait to be drafted.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When war broke out in 1941, both Jonah and her younger brother John were old enough to enlist in the war.  John had just turned 18 in September and so it was no surprise when both of the boys took off to go and enlist.  It had damn near broken their mother’s heart, the thought of her boys going out and fighting in the war. 

As for their father?  He had been unnaturally quiet.  Thomas Sharpe had changed after fighting in the First World War.  Of course, he had been married when he went away and they had had Ruth quickly after—but Ruth remembered early childhood days when loud noises would make him retreat into her parents’ room, quiet tears and loud noises spilling from his mouth.  The quiet store-owner rarely raised his voice and tended to keep to himself. 

Ruth hadn’t known anything different her entire life.  But she thought, for just a moment, her father might have been angry about both Jonah and John signing up to fight in a war.  Her father hadn’t gotten mad though.  

He had started praying, silent tears streaming down his face when it was just their mother and Ruth around.  So when everyone gathered in churches and began praying for their sons and brothers, husbands and fathers—those who were going to fight, the entirety of the Sharpe family had shown up for the event. 

And they weren’t the only ones.  There were other families with boys who had decided to go off and fight.  And as some sort of last hurrah—one of the oldest members of the synagogue had invited a large gathering of people with sons going off to fight to his home.  

Truth be told, Ruth found the entire thing just sad .  Boys who would have to go and kill and become something that they didn’t want to be in order to stop a monstrosity.  In order to defend and protect their families and their homes and their beliefs in God.  But it had to be done.  She felt it like some sort of righteous ancestral fury rising up in her bones.  Because it wasn’t just their fight, it was her fight too.  

It was almost too joyful here, in this home.  Not when Ruth knew that most of these boys would likely not come home.  Not when she knew that it was going to be horrific.  War was merciless and some oncoming storm that they were wholly unprepared for. 

She slipped out of the party, coming to a stop on the fire escape and pulling a cigarette from her bag.  It was a poor habit and one that her parents were unaware that she had developed since entering Brooklyn Law.  But a girl had to de-stress somehow and she wasn’t about to start sleeping around to get her relaxation. 

Watching the streets of Brooklyn, Ruth wasn’t quite sure what to make of things.  The world had inherently and chemically changed on a cellular level.  But on the surface, everything looked exactly the same.  Snow was still falling in the December air and people were still chaotically driving in the streets below.  But inside homes across the country, mothers were weeping and families were saying goodbye in so many different ways. 

Something sounded in the window behind her and Ruth glanced, an annoyed expression crossing her features as she caught sight of Rosenthal climbing out.  “Oh—I uh—I didn’t know anyone was out here,” Rosenthal apologized, glancing back at the party. 

He was seriously considering just risking his life by standing here in the presence of Ruth Sharpe.  It was better than the party, even if it somehow ended in his unfortunate murder. 

Ruth removed her cigarette from her lips, staring him down.  “It’s better than in there.  It’s just loud.” 

“Yeah.” Robert rocked on the backs of his heels, gaze washing over his classmate with a frown.  “When did you start smoking?” 

“Freshman year.  You want one?” Ruth questioned, offering a cigarette in his direction.  He just stared suspiciously at the cigarette.  “I didn’t poison it, you nitwit.” 

“Ouch, rude,” Robert snatched the cigarette from her hands, shaking his head at her.  “I guess I also shouldn’t tell your ma’ that you were bein’ rude?” 

“Probably not,” Ruth retorted.  Her gaze trained back on the city and the twinkling lights that were still as bright as they were in the daylight.  “I take it that you’re signing up, too?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am.  I’m hopin’ for the air force.” 

“Hm,” Ruth mused.  “Well that’s a damn shame, Rosenthal.  Who am I going to compete with in cases now?” 

Robby Rosenthal gave a light laugh, shaking his head at her.  “I’m sure you’ll find someone to disagree with. You’re the most argumentative person that I know.” 

“Oh I’m aware.  And if you can handle me, then you’ll be able to handle whatever those Japs or Germans throw at you,” Ruth insisted pointedly.  “Consider it the real part of training.” 

“Blessings in disguise, I guess,” Robby said, leaning against the bricked apartment wall behind him.  “Your brothers sign up too?” 

“Both Jonah and John,” Ruth said in a slightly bitter tone.  “Abe would if he was old enough, but seeing as how he’s turning 14, I don’t think that’ll pass.” 

“He and Daniel have the same idea.  Everyone wants to get in on it,” Robert mused.  His younger brother Daniel also wanted to participate in the war effort, but he was only 16.  He still had a good two years to go before he’d be able to even sign up.  

“Risa will miss you,” Ruth said quietly.  

“She’s a tough kid. She’ll be okay,” Robert murmured.  “So I take it you’re going to prosecute the hell out of people here?” He shifted his gaze back onto the abnormally friendly Ruth— Ruth was never nice, that was just a fact .  It was a miracle they were speaking in level tones at the moment, honestly. 

“Not a chance, Robby,” Ruth said in a pointed tone.  “I’m thinking of going JAG-Corp.” 

“How are you gonna get your ma’ to sign off on that?” 

“I won’t tell her,” Ruth murmured.  “Same way you didn’t tell your folks about losing the highest grades to me this past year.” 

A small smile crossed Robby’s face.  “If you’re gonna prosecute and help in the war, then you give them hell, alright?” 

“Only if you do the same,” Ruth insisted.  “I need someone to compete with when this war is over, you know.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Robby glanced back inside.  “I better go before someone spots us together outside.  Last thing we want is rumors spiraling.” 

“That was your fault,” Ruth said pointedly.  “Last year, I mean.” 

“Sure it was.” The two of them had been caught in an intense argument about ethics by their mothers, who had a sewing circle—and their mothers had assumed it was a lovers’ quarrel, which couldn’t have been further from the truth, quite honestly. They had both blamed the other person for the supposed rumors and it hadn’t been much fun trying to detangle themselves from such a thing. 

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone who will actually tolerate you, Rosenthal,” Ruth snarked.  

“And maybe you’ll actually figure out how to navigate a relationship.” 

“The day pigs fly,” Ruth gave a mock-salute, rolling her eyes at him.  “Now go on, be a good little boy and stamp out your cigarette.” 

Robby’s jaw ticked as he stared her down.  “You’re gonna get some poor schmuck killed one day, you know that?  And maybe he’d be better off.” 

She placed a hand over her heart.  “Tender, truly.  Well if I were your wife, I’d drink poison.” 

“The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.” 

And with that, Robby Rosenthal disappeared back inside the window—leaving Ruth sitting out there on the fire escape and wondering how the hell she was going to get herself into the JAG-Corp.

[ladysif8]

🍩Sweet Heat🍩

Bucky Barnes/Original Female Character

Rated: G

Status: Complete

Word Count: 8,132

Summary:

Fireman Bucky Barnes discovers the delicious doughnuts of Chubby Dough while at the local Farmers Market, and he is instantly smitten. When he meets Aria, the quirky doughnut goddess herself, sparks fly between them. However, fate intervenes when Bucky is called away on duty, missing the chance to get her number. Weeks later, fate as their paths cross again when Bucky receives a call about a cat stuck in a tree, which turns out to be Aria's.

You can read this Ao3 or Wattpad