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realityhelixcreates · 4 years ago

Text

Dance of the Spheres Chapter 4: Venusian Vogue

Chapters: 4/?

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, forced marriage

Characters: Loki(Marvel),

Additional Tags: Loki Goes Overboard, But When Doesn’t Loki go Overboard, Mature Reader, Disabled Reader, Political Intrigue

Summary:

Images of broken light Which dance before me like a million eyes They call me on and on across the universe. Across the Universe-The Beatles

“I am Loki.”

“I asked for a bride.”

The declarations smashed into you like fists and took your breath with them.

There was a ring on your finger. Silvery, plain, simple. Why hadn't you noticed it before?

This was clearly Loki. Sunken eyes, and onyx hair, and refined bones. Exactly like the pictures. Why hadn't you noticed?

Too many things all at once. Too much. A fearful whine escaped your teeth, as you tugged on the ring. It didn't budge.

“You're supposed to be dead.” You whispered.

His face fell the instant you spoke.

“You know. I sometimes think that myself. Yet somehow I remain. Take it as a reassurance: you will not lose me to battle, or accident. I will never leave you. I suppose that is something that new brides must worry about, especially human ones. You may put that fear to rest.”

“That's not what I'm-” You clamped your mouth shut. You were in a bad position, worse than you'd ever been, maybe. You were completely alone here; you could contact no one for help. You weren't even sure where exactly 'here' was-no one knew where Asgard was located.

You were trapped in a room with a madman. A prince among his own people, who had proven himself capable of the mass murder of humans like you. Yet claiming you were his bride.

No one would come to your aid.

Did anyone even know you were missing?

You glanced at the ring once more. Its twin rested proudly on his own left hand. What choice did you have?

You had to play along. At least until you found some way out of this. Stay on the madman's good side, as much as that was possible.

“Why me?” You asked, fighting down your panic. Just gather information for now. “I'm literally nobody.”

“I don't understand either.” He sat down on the bed, just a little closer to you than arms length. “This was supposed to be a chance at reconciliation. I willingly gave myself up in a symbolic act of unity. Sacrificed my own freedom.”

You side-eyed him hard. Gave up his freedom? In what capacity? He wasn't the one kidnapped and married without any knowledge or choice!

“This isn't an uncommon arrangement.” He continued. “Your species has done this since time immemorial. From kings all the way down to commoners, uniting families, uniting fortunes, uniting entire lands. Surely your...leader...understood what was to be gained. Yes, I did a terrible thing to your people, but this should have forged a new alliance. A promise that not only would I not do such a thing again, but that my formidable prowess would be for your people, rather than against them. Was this not enough? This should have opened the way for trade, for treaties...And you! Why do such a thing to you? One of his own people?”

“Oh, I'm not his.” You said. “I voted against him. I march in protests against his shitty policies. I oppose him in any way I can. I'd say 'maybe that's why', but it really can't be. I'm nowhere near important or influential enough for the government to pay any attention to me. They're too busy trying to kill me through austerity. Or through the cops.”

Loki's face darkened. “I should find that officer and flay him. Make you a bodice of his skin.”

He'd been reaching for your shoulder, but you flinched away.

“Okay see? That right there? That's why people might not want to ally with you.” You pointed out.

“He shouldn't have hurt you.”

“That's true. That doesn't mean you can use my pain as an excuse to rampage on Earth!”

“I shan't!” He protested. “Never again, I promise you that.”

But how good was the promise of government? Politician or hereditary ruler, it was all the same. How good was the word of a murderer? How many promises had he already broken?

“How do you feel?” He asked. “You seem...lively. Whatever you were drugged with, is it having a lasting effect?”

“I'm a little disoriented, but I'm awake.” You said. “The food and water helped.”

“Yes. About that. Ah. Would you like to see your rooms? I've been anticipating your arrival-well, someone's arrival-for some months now, and I've had chambers created that befit your new station.”

The big unknown outside. Beyond this room was nothing but uncertainty. But you would be the first human being to see this new Asgard. You told yourself it was a perk.

“Um...” You mumbled. “My clothes...” You weren't going out there in a flimsy hospital gown, that was for sure.

“Being cleaned and mended.” Loki informed you. “I have a simple gown that I believe should fit you. Here.” Wit a sweeping gesture, he produced a voluminous, forest green garment out of seemingly nowhere.

You scooted away. “How did you do that?” You demanded.

“Magic, of course.” He said. “You...don't know about the magic...?”

You shook your head and took the robe from him. It felt real enough, smooth and soft, with fur trim and pin tucks. This was simple?

“What do you know about me, my dear?” He asked.

“Not much. Just what...turn around!” Sheepishly, he turned his back so you could change. “Just what was on the news. And the approximately three million conspiracy websites that popped up afterwards. You might be shocked by how many people think you were an inside job.”

“A what?”

“That's not even counting all the cults. You and Thor really got the radicalization machine cranking them out. White supremacists, nationalists, doomsday cults...thanks a lot. Not as if we didn't have enough problems cleaning up the mess you left behind.”

“That...was not my intention. Were you...?”

“I was not part of any cults. I was also not part of the celebration of your death, either.”

The news broadcast had interrupted every television, lit up every phone. A tired and battle-worn Thor, looking not one inch the hero the world knew him to be, as he towered over the reporter. He gave only a short statement: His brother Loki was dead, perished in honorable battle, in an effort to protect the galaxy from an ancient enemy.

People had trusted him. They'd seen the destruction that enemy had caused, in their quest to destroy everything. The odd teleportation anomalies in England that had dominated youtube for a long time. The leaves in your bathroom, the foreign plants in the park. Exotic, even alien creatures being spotted.

People threw parties at the news of Loki's demise. You'd gone out, gotten yourself exactly one drink, and then stayed home for the weekend. It didn't seem right, not after seeing Thor so hollowed out. You didn't really get on with celebrating the death of your enemies anyway, only the success of your causes.

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

“But yeah, all I really know is that you attacked us out of the blue, and brought an army with you. You caused billions in damages and cost hundreds of lives. Thousands more lost everything. The economic blow is still with us, and led to some of the problems I've been marching against. And then you died. Except not, obviously. Was Thor lying to us?”

“No. He truly believed me dead. I did too, until I woke up. So you know nothing of me. I feared that might be the case. I am no warlord, not truly. I am the foremost sorcerer of Asgard. My magic has many applications, one of which is that I am rarely found without what I need.”

“So magic is real?” Why not? Aliens were real. Gods were apparently real.

“Yes, very. When times were...better, I used to tutor younger students. I might go back to doing that, once we are more established. Once we are safe.”

Safe? From what? Was whatever it was that had destroyed Asgard still out there? Thor had said otherwise, before the radio silence, but he had also thought that Loki was dead, and he was wrong about that, so...

“May I look now, dear?”

“Oh...yeah. I'm dressed.” The gown did fit, though mostly because it was a shapeless, oversized thing that was closed around you with ties. Still, it was luxurious, and made you feel like you were actually pretty-as long as no one looked at you too closely. Was this what a princess wore? You shouldn't allow yourself to get too used to it. As soon as you found a way out, you were out.

“Delightful. Even such a simple gown enhances your beauty. Will you come with me, dear? Let me show you our grand achievements.”

You didn't really want to be exposed to the people of Asgard, but this room was no safer than anywhere else right now. Loki hovered, and you stood, and managed a few wobbly steps before you overbalanced. He caught you instantly.

“Don't worry.” He murmured. “I'm here.”

As if that wasn't the problem in the first place.

“So, while you were carrying me off...I mean, when you, uh, received me, did you notice a cane lying around?” You asked. “I had one. Did the guys who brought me give it to you?”

“I'm afraid not.” He said apologetically. “They seemed strangely eager to quit the area.”

“Yeah, well. They had just committed a felony.” You griped. “They probably had orders to disappear. And they probably didn't want to hang around and witness what a warlord was gonna do to me.”

He winced. “I promise you, that's not what I really am.”

“Sorry.”

He held out his arm for you. “I don't have your cane, but I can support you. We will have another cane made for you. There should have been an Artificer and an apprentice Healer in here at some point, to measure you for a new prosthetic.”

“Uh, there were. I, uh, kinda told them to piss off.”

“Ah. I suppose I cannot blame you, now that I know of your situation. But they are here at your service, as is all of Asgard.”

He helped you limp along, somehow maintaining his dignified stride, even as you wobbled along like a penguin. The hallways were as bland and labyrinthine as a human hospital, if somewhat more softly lit. Again the light source was obscured behind thin panes of cloudy crystal, which diffused the light, giving everything a comforting, if slightly mysterious atmosphere, which the general emptiness of the area only enhanced.

There were few people here, but for some reason, you had been placed in a room far within the hospital complex. Maybe they wanted to hide you away, so that no one knew you were here until they were ready to introduce you to Asgard. Or until they were certain you were going to survive. It might cause a scandal if the prince's bride just up and died upon arrival.

Or perhaps it was to protect you. There were plenty of reasons why a human bride might not be accepted by the Asgardian populace; everything from nationalism, to someone wanting to make a bid for that crown themselves.

There were still no windows to be seen, and everything was made of stone, just like in the hospital room. Out here, in the halls and waiting rooms, the desks, chairs, and tables all seemed to be joined to the walls and floor, as if the whole place had been carved from a single, solid piece, like the rock-cut architecture of the fabled city of Petra. Here again were the creamy grays and oranges lining the walls, though a smooth black also made an appearance.

Eventually, you came to what must have been a foyer, with a high ceiling, complex stone mosaics, and huge, gorgeously carved double doors, but still no windows.

“We will be going outside now.” Loki said. “This facility is within the palace complex, and is not far from your special chambers, but we will have to cross a few halls and courtyards. There are plenty of places to sit, so if you need a rest, simply say so.”

He opened the doors for you, and you stepped out into a world of stone.

Everything was stone, stone or metal. Before you was a wide open courtyard, clearly unfinished, but spacious. At regular intervals were stone towers supporting open pillared hallways in a multiple storied, vaguely Roman courtyard style. The towers shot up, and up, and up...you climbed them with your gaze, following them to the heights to which they had to buttress each other with thin struts of stone, higher still, where they joined with an impossibly high ceiling.

There was a roof over the courtyard, so tall that your couldn't fathom how it had been built. Beyond the courtyards stacked walkways-six full stories-you could see the tips of other towers, lined with lights, merging with this high rise ceiling. Was the entire palace built under this massive shelter?

Clearly the sun did not reach into the palace. To offset this, the crystal-paned, inset lights were everywhere, creating complex patterns that mimicked the intricate knotted carvings that chased up the towers and pillars. The corbels glared down at you, fierce masks of bearded men, wolves, dragons and birds, lights in their eyes.

Combined, it was not as bright as sunlight, but not dim either. The softness of the glow made shadows diffuse, made the stone look soft and fake, and even shimmery in places, like the set pieces in eighties fantasy movies. If not for the pain in your bruises, you'd have thought the dreamy atmosphere was just that, and that you were about to wake up from this absurd dream any moment now.

But the pain was there, and denied that simple, hopeful wish. And Loki was there, gently urging you forward like he was a real gentleman, instead of a heinous war criminal. There were a few other people out here as well; walking the courtyards pillared halls, resting on stone benches, carving hollows into the ground.

There was no soil here. All stone. As you crossed the courtyard, you noticed black, and gray, and cloudy crystal inlaid into the ground in a shape reminiscent of a compass rose, decorated with silvery wire knotwork in bird and serpent shapes.

There were troughs and niches being carved into the ground that looked to you like they were meant to be flower beds...eventually. You had seen no dirt here yet, no grass or growing things at all. Maybe once you finally got outside. But for now, it felt as if you had left a building, only to exit into another building, that was in turn, within another building.

It was a bit suffocating.

Loki led you across several courtyards, each with a different pattern inlaid into their bare floor, and through vaulted hallways that still contained no windows. Many of these hallways intersected in large, circular domes, and few of them had any distinctive markings. Soon you were completely lost. With any luck, you would be able to get your hands on some paper, and create a map-otherwise, any escape attempts would be doomed from the word go.

But maybe that was the point.

Your staggering steps echoed down a particularly tall and wide hallway, almost completely devoid of people. You were almost at the end of your physical capabilities, and while there were places to sit, you felt like you must be close to your destination. You really wanted to be in a room whose dimensions you could be certain of. A space you could comprehend.

Loki brought you to a stop in front of a pair of carved wooden doors. As the first piece of architecture you had seen here that was something other than stone, you found them more beautiful than anything you'd seen all day. They were something almost normal, almost like something you would have at home. If you were insanely rich, or your dad was a carpenter or something. They were a warm terra-cotta color, carved with a dizzying array of knotwork, framed with blackened, riveted iron. The handles were iron serpents.

“We imported some things from your homeland. This redwood lumber is one such thing. From what I hear, these trees are emblematic of your country.”

“Er...” How to politely say, 'not really, even though most people who live there do know what a redwood is'. They weren't very important to anyone who didn't live near where they grew. They weren't what you would call 'quintessentially American'. There wasn't anything you could really call that. The place was just too damn big.

“We couldn't bring too much, not yet anyway.” He continued. “It is expensive, unfortunately, and we only have one ship. It can only carry so much, and it takes about three days to transport. Things are moving slowly, but our construction projects are moving along speedily. There's little else to do right now, save build.”

He opened the doors for you, and led you into a fairy tale.

#danceofthespheres #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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darlingpetao3 · 4 years ago

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Sugar (EoWells x Reader)

Rating: T

Summary: You and Doctor Harrison Wells have an arrangement - you provide lovely company and conversation while he showers you with gifts and pays for you to advance your scientific knowledge. Does he want more than this? And more importantly, does he have an ulterior motive..?

Tag LIst: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @blogforhoes @pinkdiamond1016 @crissymadlock

“Good evening, Miss (Y/L/N),” the doorman of the luxurious Central City Plaza Hotel greets you. He opens the door wide. “Welcome back.”

You give the man a polite nod and a shy smile. Does he know why you’re here? One of the little voices in your head likes to pester you, insisting that everyone is aware of the special arrangement you have with a certain high-profile scientist.

But there’s no way they would know.

Doctor Harrison Wells would be sure to keep this arrangement discreet.

A text message you had received from the man himself earlier in the day tells you the floor and room number. The closer you get, the faster your heart slams against your chest. It’s like the organ is leading you to the man behind the door you now stand in front of.

Your knuckles rap on the door once, twice, three times.

You hold your breath the entire time between knocking and him answering the door, though luckily you don’t have to wait that long at all.

Science’s Greatest Mind, Harrison Wells, opens the door to reveal himself dressed as the always impeccably gorgeous dresser he is - a crisp white button-down tucked into his black slacks and shiny black shoes you could practically see your blushing face in. His shirt sleeves are rolled up his forearms, and on one you spot a watch worth more than your tuition.

Speaking of tuition…

“Miss (Y/L/N), always a pleasure.” Apparently you’ve skipped dinner with him because his silky voice is already dessert to your ears. “Please, come in. May I take your coat?”

“Yes, thank you.”

One would think after meeting up Doctor Wells every few weeks would diminish the pedestal effect you have created for the man. One would think you wouldn’t get stars in your eyes when he compliments you or builds on one of your scientific theories. And one would think that meeting your idol would change your opinion of him. But nope - the fire inside you seems to burn even hotter for Harrison Wells with every meeting and every second of attention he gives you.

The thing is, Harrison had received word from sources unknown about you - an exceptional mind that many of your peers believed rivalled his own. The tragedy was that you could not seek further education in your field of interest due to an extraordinary lack of financial means. There you were, walking around with that big beautiful brain, only to have it figuratively short circuit when your hero, the man of your dreams, tracked you down.

What it came down to was Harrison feeling unable to let your untapped potential go to waste and invested in you. He came to you with the idea and profound generosity of paying for you to further your education in particle physics, among other fields.

Naturally, you were surprised beyond all belief.

“There’s a little something for you on the desk just over there, if you’d like to open it,” Harrison informs you as he’s already pouring you both some drinks.

Oh yeah - he also showers you with extravagant gifts.

On the desktop lies a long white rectangular box. Your mouth opens a smidge when you look to him, giving the scientist an expression of what have you done?

“Harrison, you shouldn’t have,” you tell him, as you do every rendezvous when he begins to spoil you.

“If I had a nickel,” he smiles fondly at you, with a hint of something else. “Please, open it.”

Sometimes you wonder if he feels the same way about you. Is he interested in dating you? He’s never made a move or outright asked you anything pertaining to the topic of dating. All he’s ever done is compliment you, give you presents, and most importantly, have deep and meaningful conversations about work and life. Although now that you think about it, you don’t discuss much about his life…

It must come with the territory of being a famous, innovative scientist.

Fine, Harrison Wells can keep his secrets.

You open the lid of the box to find a sleek and classy little black dress.

“It’s beautiful…” you breathe out.

“You’ll wear it for our dinner?”

“Have I ever turned down a piece of gorgeous clothing you’ve bought me?”

Harrison grins. “You have not, no. And I’m glad for it.”

“You have exceptional taste,” you tell him.

“I have exceptional inspiration.”

Aaaand cue your blushing cheeks. You scurry off to the insanely immaculate bathroom to change and freshen up. You’re always extra careful with the new clothes he buys you, and treat them like they’re delicate relics you have the utmost privilege to wear. And, of course, right before you leave the bathroom, you check your breath. Just in case.

Okay, all good.

You love how this dress fits you. It’s like it was created just for you. But what you love even more is the intoxicating transfixed gaze of Doctor Wells as you walk back into the room. As you inspect your dress, he moves to stand in front of you. His hands hold on to your forearms. With a little shrug, you can’t help but ask him, “What do you think?”

“I think I am blessed to be in your presence.”

“Oh, what a line!” you tease, and Harrison merely laughs. He always makes you feel like a queen.

“Turn around,” he tells you. For a number of reasons, your heartbeat immediately begins to gallop.

“W-why?”

Harrison just gives you a look, and soon your body is turning your back to him in obedience. After a moment, you feel and see his large hands in front of you at your collarbone area. Then there’s a cool sensation on your skin - metal. A necklace? He secures the clasp behind you, and you feel a quick spark of what must be static electricity when his fingers graze your skin, making you jump. You’re sure to look down to inspect the jewellery piece - a little gold lightning bolt.

“Harrison, you didn’t-”

“-Shall we have dinner?”

You can only nod in reply because you cannot form words. How is he so giving? It makes you wonder whether or not you’re the only one with whom he spoils and spends time.

You wonder if maybe he does other things with other women.

***

Dinner is magnificent as usual. Harrison always orders the most delectable and pricey things on the hotel menu. He also knows the chef personally, so sometimes he calls down to make special requests. This was one of those times. The pair of you talk shop over dinner, your life goals and plans, and so forth.

“I’d love for you to work for me someday on one of my future projects,” Harrison says eventually, effectively blowing your mind.

“Are you serious? You’re actually saying this to me?”

“Yes. I’d have thought you might have had an inkling I would ask you one of these days. I don’t think I’ve been that subtle.”

“Well, consider me oblivious!”

He chuckles. “Good to know.”

As you soon move into the hotel suite's living area, your mind is still reeling from his loose job offer, but then that other pesky thought appears in its place. Maybe it’s the wine, but the thought manifests into words off your tongue.

“How... many others are you doing this with?” you ask.

“Doing what, precisely?”

“You know! Spending special time with me. Buying me lavishly expensive gifts. You’re already paying for my tuition, something you never had to do in the first place. Even though I’m incredibly grateful for that, don’t get me wrong,” you add quickly.

“These gifts,” he says while lifting your chin with his finger to get you to look at him, “are because I think you deserve the world and this is the closest thing I can do to manifest that. As for your tuition, I think you know I believe you to be one of the most promising minds of this time. It would be a crime to let your insight and talent go unused due to a lack of funds.” His compliments play your harp-like heart like a seasoned professional. “What’s more, I... genuinely enjoy our times together.”

Never before has Harrison ever suggested taking whatever this thing is between you to the proverbial next level. You have always had the sense that he is interested in you, but would never be the first to make that sort of move on you. But tonight… right now… you feel so much for him and everything he’s been doing for you, so selflessly, that you want to try to take that next step. If he’s willing, of course.

Your hand ventures experimentally to rest on his leg. Harrison subtly perks up at your touch as if he’s just spotted the window of opportunity you’re sneaking through.

“I enjoy our times together, too,” you agree. “I like you, Harrison. A lot.”

“And I like you.”

You let your hand move slightly higher up his thigh, but his own stops you.

“Please don’t think you owe me anything,” he says, making sure you understand. “I wouldn’t want you to think I’d-”

“-No, no. I know,” you tell him, leaning in closer. “I just really want to. I want you.”

The Doctor Harrison Wells sits there across from you with his mouth parted the slightest bit - the mouth you become obsessed with when you meet him with yours. You’ve wanted to do this for so long and now it’s finally coming true. The heat you begin to feel between you both seems to lure you into his lap and press your hands to his chest. This kiss deepens in an exploratory desperation. Harrison’s hunger lets itself be known by the sound deep in his throat.

You pull back to see how he smiles that gleaming smile as if he’s won the lottery, staring you straight in the eye. “Before we... would you open one more gift from me?”

“Oh,” you say with a bit of a rasp to your voice. “Sure. Yes.”

The scientist reaches around the side of the couch to hand you another box. It’s not nearly as big as the dress box. You pull off the top and move the red tissue paper around to uncover the sexiest goddamn lingerie you’ve ever seen.

You hold it up to yourself. Harrison’s eyes have gone as black as the slinky satin garment itself.

“Would you wear that for me?” he asks.

“I’d do anything for you,” tumbles out of your mouth in pure lust and infatuation.

His brilliant smile almost blinds you.

“Good to know.”

Anonymous Request: I recently discovered that I'm kinda into the sugar daddy kink in fics which is new to me...if that appeals to you at all I was hoping maybe you'd write something where Eowells is a sugar daddy to the reader cause that would be hot. I was hoping they could hook up in a luxurious hotel room that he rented and the reader had to wear whatever he bought for them.

#reader insert #anon request #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells fanfiction #eowells x reader #eowells imagine #eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne imagine #eobard thawne fanfiction #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction

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kbstories · 4 years ago

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Diachronic

dia·chron·ic (adj.) Occurring over time; historical.

Kidd is torn apart and Killer is (almost) too late.

(Or: Kidd loses an arm, wakes up and recovers.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experience, Loss of Limbs, Recovery, Heat & Killer For MVP I Do Not Make The Rules

Read Chapter 1 here. Additional content warning for loss of a limb and discussions of limb amputation.

***

“Shit, shit, fuck, shit–”

“Keep going. Boss, you there? Hey.”

“So much blood, fuck.”

“We got you out, Boss. You’re safe. The Punk’s right there.”

“Wire, his arm...”

“Boss. Eyes on me, ‘kay? Killer– He’s fine. Right behind us. Just stay awake.”

“His arm–”

“Shut up, Heat, I saw it, just– Keep going. Put pressure on his neck.”

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. Where the fuck is Doc?”

“I don’t know. Hey, Boss? …Kidd?”

“There! Doc!”

“Shit, shit. We’re losing him–”

“What?!”

“Kidd–!!”

Eustass Kidd comes to the taste of death in his mouth.

A blink, slow, perhaps more becoming-aware than waking from dream. Swirling patterns, clean lines: A wooden ceiling, he recognizes, the thought dim and far-away. The half-dark around him strains his eyes.

Kidd blinks. There’s something on his face. It itches, pulls at his skin. Stings, when he tries to move his head, all the way down to the fuzzy numbness where he presumes the rest of his body is. No point in questioning it – Kidd has had enough near-death experiences to know better.

He blinks, and realizes the world is off. Split into two, one half vague reality and the other– not, dark, a void that wasn’t there before. Blinks and blinks again, eyes squinting, attempting to focus where there is nothing.

That’s… not good, is it?

It’s a little like being underwater, this. Like when the ocean surges around him and every limb goes all loose and useless; when all he can do is search for the faint outline of the sun and marvel at the beams of light that reach for him as he sinks.

Kidd’s mind is swimming, that’s the word, and no part of him should ever be doing that. Killer will be mad, Kidd thinks.

For swimming, and for whatever is on his face, and for tasting death.

Killer will be–

Kidd drifts.

Consciousness comes and goes like waves over shoreline sand, sometimes sliding over rocks unchanging, sometimes grabbing onto something and dragging it along. Kidd loses bits and pieces to that tide, chunks of time that sift through his fingers unchecked. A call of his name, quiet. Then – or perhaps later, much later – a gentle pressure wraps around his hand, and he notices it exists, his hand that is, and the hand in his hand.

Making sense of things is hard but this is something Kidd knows, will always know. Everything is blurry as hell, colors and lines sliding in and out of place: Kidd finds it all the same, that flash of blue that’s inevitably there in his periphery.

Again, “Kidd?”, hopeful now. Not mad (not yet, that is) and oh, Kidd must be fucked up bad. The urge to laugh bubbles up from a place unknown, which is bad too because it’s perhaps a little deranged and because that’s when he remembers he has a body and it hurts.

Kidd can’t tell if he laughs or not. The next wave rolls in, sloshing up to his waist; the current tears at every fiber of his being and Kidd lets go, knowing strong arms will pull him all the way up to the surface soon enough.

“Boss. You awake?”

It occurs to Kidd that he is. Pain is all he knows, for a moment that lingers – an ache that pulses at his core like a second heartbeat, a little to the left.

(Another one of those not-good things, to be awake.)

Kidd can think, this time around, and move, and he reaches for his face because life’s a bitch and fuck the pain, he needs that shit off now. Fire runs up his spine, the telltale sting of fried nerves and bruised skin and–

“Ah shit, don’t–”

Nothing? A breath comes out Kidd’s mouth, an eloquent “Whuh?” that was meant to be a full sentence, and whoever’s with him must understand since the next thing he sees is dark-red ink and faded stitches and deep-seated eyes.

Heat.

“Welcome back”, they say, and: “Stop moving or Doc will skin first me and then you.”

Must be bandages then. Kidd’s limbs are heavy, now that he takes the time to notice, blood honey-thick and sticky in his veins; the remnants of whatever Doc shot him up with to keep him down, and Kidd relents. Listens if only because there’s genuine worry in Heat’s gaze, and because listening to them is usually a sound plan when he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. Which, actually–

“Wha’ the fuck?”

Heat huffs, “Stay awake this time and I’ll explain”, and when they push Kidd to lie flat again it’s a touch too gentle. Kidd frowns, at that and at the pinch of Heat’s brow that remains despite the clear relief to their tone. It’s on his way down that Kidd spots Killer’s mask, paint chipped and blood smeared across it like lipstick stains, left on Doc’s cluttered desk.

Where’s…?

And suddenly Kidd remembers, sees flashes of a beach and Shanks’ cold stare and the glint of a blade and painpainpain and Killer, back turned to him and staring down an Emperor–

Kidd’s gut drops and he gasps, “Fuck”, snaps into motion so fast he practically jackknifes. The world spins, little dots of color exploding across Kidd’s vision like shrapnel and he pushes through it, grabs for Heat. “Fuck, Killer–”

Grabs for them and overshoots by a mile, and Kidd can’t see shit out of his left eye but he shouldn’t have– His arm should’ve–

“He’s fine! Killer’s fine, Kidd, sit down for fuck’s sake.”

It’s not like Kidd has much of a choice: His legs give out the instant he puts weight on them and without Heat he’d eaten dirt then and there. As it is, Heat catches him and hauls him back on the cot, decidedly less gentle now.

“Boss. Seriously, just… A lot has happened.”

Kidd shoots back immediately, “Where’s Killer?”, voice rasping low, the tone he gives commands with. Heat’s eyes darken.

“Next door. Sleeping, as he should. Had to damn near fistfight him to get him away from you. It’s been a fucking week, Kidd, if you go and fuck up your stitches now I swear I’ll–”

“Okay, shit, fine. I’m sitting.”

“Good. And cut the crap with the Haki, I’m not going anywhere.”

And… okay, it’s rare for Heat to be rough with Kidd like this. They’re no sunshine by any measure of the word, just unfazed by most things life could possibly throw at them and content to let Kidd do the yelling. Here, now, Heat is– Well, stressed. Upset.

Something aches in Kidd’s chest, entirely unrelated to his injuries. “Tell me”, he says, softer and lacking that timbre. “The crew?”

The tension leaves Heat in one long exhale. They sit next to Kidd, in that void that’s really getting on Kidd’s nerves. A beat, and Kidd feels their long fingers start to pry at surgical tape and gauze.

“Shaken but doin’ okay. Worried sick about you, mostly. Punk’s good, too, before you ask. Wire says we’re two days out from land.”

“Ah.”

(It doesn’t make sense to Kidd, to dock that close in an Emperor’s orbit. Wire knows what he’s doing, though, always has. On this ship his sense for pragmatics is better than anyone’s, even Killer’s.)

There’s light in the left half of Kidd’s world, a too-bright glare that has him squinting instantly. Heat rips the rest of it off without much of a warning – Kidd bites down a groan of relief as the source of that pain-in-the-ass itch is finally gone. He blinks, blinks again, waits for his eye to adjust, bit by bit.

“Thanks.”

“Mh. How’s your sight?”

Kidd focuses on Killer’s mask, closes one eye, then the other. The contrast is substantial, the blue-white-red vibrant and sharp, then dim and off-color. “Could be worse.”

Heat snorts. “Yeah, it could. Doc swore up a storm working on your face.”

There’s a bit of an edge to that, a hint of you owe him, Boss that Kidd hears loud and clear. Here’s to hoping the island they’re headed towards knows what coffee is, Kidd muses. Keeps staring ahead, watching things go in and out of focus as his brain tries to compensate for the mismatched input it’s getting.

An uneasy feeling roils in his gut. It has nothing to do with that.

“Kidd, listen…”

Kidd sighs. “Give it to me straight, Heat. I can take it.”

Heat hesitates but not for long. “Your arm”, they say quietly, and yeah, Kidd remembers something about that too. “There was no saving it. We had to take it off.”

There it is.

Kidd… lets himself sit in it, for a while, in the notion that if he were to turn his head he’d find, what, a stump? A clean cut? Perhaps it’s all gone, his body simply stopping where a shoulder used to be. Kidd should have some sort of reaction to that, shouldn’t he?

Something more than a mind full of static and blank eyes refusing to look.

It’s a visceral thing, an instinct, perhaps, to reach out and touch first: clumsy with residue numbness and the pain he’s been resolutely ignoring nipping at the heels of every move he makes. Heat jolts like they want to hold him back, a hand brushing Kidd’s wrist as a physical reminder to be careful but they let him be otherwise.

Lingering as Kidd’s fingers trace his gauze-lined chest up his neck and the bumps of stitches there. Across the slope of his shoulder (still attached, that’s something, right?) and down his bicep until–

Oh.

Kidd looks. His hand fits weirdly against his arm or what’s left of it, to be precise; his fingers overly big and rough-looking against the white of bandages, pink where the wound is bleeding through. Cradling it, Kidd tries to make sense of the fact it just… ends, three quarters of the way to his elbow.

That’s a stump alright.

“…Boss?”

Heat’s never sounded so small, either, and Kidd shakes himself out of the existential crisis waiting to happen. There’s a lifetime ahead of him to freak out about this, which… Fuck.

“Yeah, ‘m here. Just… processing, I guess.”

There’s nothing to be done about the tremor in his voice. When Kidd glances over, Heat’s lips are pressed tight, their gaze liquid with emotion. “Yeah.” A beat of silence. “We, um. We ran out of anesthetics. So we’re– Yeah. Doc meant for you to sleep a few days more.”

Years they’ve sailed together, and Kidd can pick up on the things Heat leaves unspoken. Those little gaps in their speech like faultlines along the bedrock, microscopic tears in solid steel made to withstand a multitude of its own weight.

“It’s okay”, Kidd mumbles and it’s not a lie. It hurts something fierce but not enough to break him, and it’s not like they went against an Emperor expecting to come out of it unscathed. There’s a reason why Kidd aimed for a duel and not an all-out war.

Still: Fuck.

Whatever Kidd thinks to say beyond that reeks of empty platitudes, the don’t-worry-about-its and the I’m-fines that help no one and change jackshit about anything, so he leaves it at that. Drops his hand – singular, the only one he’s got left – and shapes it to a fist to nudge Heat’s shoulder, push them a little to wipe that sad look off their face.

“Be honest. Y’all just got bored without me, huh?”

There’s surprise and then there’s a slow blink, Heat’s expression going utterly deadpan in the span of a second. “Sure. We all hated having some peace and quiet around here.”

Kidd laughs, “Fuck off”, can’t make it not sound as exhausted as he feels but it’s worth a try, anyways. His body aches, his entire left side especially but Kidd stretches his back anyways, grunts as his spine pops in half a dozen places.

“Where’d ya say Killer is?”

Exasperation joins the mix. “You two deserve each other”, Heat grumbles under their breath, points at the door straight ahead. It’s closed, which is good because the mask is here which means Killer’s sleeping without it.

Kidd squints at it. The distance isn’t too far, maybe if he goes along the wall…?

“Stay”, Heat says, serious again. “I promised Doc a check-up. And nope, you’re not getting out of that. ‘s what you get for almost dying on us.”

Kidd’s mouth shuts on its own accord. You owe him, Boss. “…Fine.”

Shoulders slumped, Heat reaches for Killer’s mask. “And… Soldier said to get him when you’re up. So that’s happening in a few.” They lick their thumb and make an effort to wipe away the blood, eyes fond.

“Go easy on him, ‘kay? He did well as captain, no matter what he’ll tell you.”

As if Kidd would ever fault Killer for any of this. The warning makes something curl in his chest, though, the need to see his partner and making sure he’s okay – they’re okay – one he swallows down with difficulty.

“Noted. Thanks. I mean it, Heat.”

They wave it off with a lazy gesture over their shoulder on their way out. A hand on the knob, Heat pauses. “Hey, Kidd?”

“Mh?”

Their voice is soft, “I’m glad you made it”, a brief window into the hell they must’ve gone through while Kidd slept. Then Heat is gone, and Kidd stares at the empty spot they leave behind and finally lets his heart break, just a little.

The stitches are out, all wounds freshly wrapped and Kidd himself hopped up on a not-insignificant amount of painkillers by the time Killer shuffles in, yawning into the crook of his elbow. His right one, that is, the entirety of Killer’s left arm bandaged from shoulder to fingertips.

(Chemical burns, Doc had told Kidd with a grim frown. Acid, most likely, and Kidd swore himself that’s not going to be the first thing he’ll ask Killer about after almost dying right in front of him.)

“Wow”, Kidd drawls instead, a little slurred. “Heat wasn’t jokin’, ya do look like shit.”

There was an attempt not to, at least, and the way Killer pauses mid-step and shoots him a dirty look tells Kidd he failed rather spectacularly. He mutters, “Hey to you too”, sounding just as tired as he looks with those shadows under his eyes and long hair tied in a messy knot. Dressed in a shirt he could swim laps in, and Kidd blames it on the drugs that he recognizes it only after a solid ten-second stare.

“Ain’t that mine?”

“Yeah.” Dragging Doc’s desk chair behind him, Killer sets it down and collapses into it without much fanfare. “You’re awake.”

And Kidd really shouldn’t laugh, but the sheer misery Killer’s radiating reminds him of the Curry Udon Incident years ago. It wasn’t very funny back then, it’s near-hilarious now, and there’s a thousand little details that tell Kidd his partner really isn’t in the mood to reminisce. Kidd smiles all the same; Killer’s eyes are slow to track the motion, narrowing under unkempt bangs.

“What?”

Kidd’s smile turns into a grin. “Nothin’.”

Killer stares. “…Exactly how many pills did Doc give you?

“All of ‘em”, Kidd tells him and cackles at Killer’s quiet groan. “You want some? Feels really good.”

A wordless headshake is all Kidd gets for his trouble. Killer leans forward, though, nudging Kidd’s side with the elbow he braces himself on, chin in hand. There’s the beginnings of a beard there, and Kidd didn’t even notice he could grow one these days.

“Hey, Kil”, Kidd says, even though Killer’s attention is already on him. That feels good, too.

“Hmm?”

Kidd reaches for him, using all his focus to keep his hand somewhat steady as he brushes along Killer’s jaw. “I like this. ‘s cute.”

A hint of a smile. Killer takes Kidd’s hand before it drops away again, slender fingers wrapping around Kidd’s rough edges with untold tenderness. “Yeah? What happened to me looking like shit a minute ago?”

Kidd pouts. How is he supposed to keep track of this stuff? Merely keeping his eyes open is a struggle, doesn’t Killer know that?

Another try, then. “I meant like, hmm… Ya didn’t sleep at all, did ya?”

“Mh”, Killer replies, which is his way of saying yes when he knows Kidd won’t like the answer. “There wasn’t exactly time for a nap, between getting our asses outta there and watching the crew and–”

Nothing. Killer’s jaw clenches and he falls silent, gaze dropping to where their hands are intertwined.

“It doesn’t matter. Sorry I wasn’t there when you… Yeah. Sorry.”

Kidd realizes, with some delay, that Killer is an idiot and also that Heat was right. They usually are. “You’re sor–? K. Look at me. Killer.”

Killer looks at Kidd and that heartbreak Kidd was saving up for some indefinite point in time in the future? It’s not giving him a choice in the matter, not anymore. Not when there’s pure anguish in Killer’s eyes, dark and hurting where no one but Kidd can go look for it.

Kidd, who spent a week more dead than alive. Fucking shit.

“This entire thing was my idea.” Kidd squeezes Killer’s hand, pulls him closer with the little energy he can muster. “Mine, not yours, Kil. What the fuck?”

“Kidd”, Killer starts and just, no. Hell no.

“I wanted that duel. I ate shit for it, so what? We knew it’s a possibility. A risk. We can’t conquer the New World if we don’t–”

“You lost an arm, Kidd.” Killer grits his teeth hard enough even Kidd can make it out, hazy as things are. “Almost lost an eye. Almost lost your life. How am I supposed to feel about that? Tell me ‘cause I don’t– I can’t… Fuck.”

A shaky breath is all the warning Kidd gets before Killer pulls away, gets up, the hand that slips out of Kidd’s grasp going to Killer’s face and still unable to hide how his lips pinch downwards, trembling.

For a long moment all Kidd can do is stare and try to catch his mind from complete freefall. This… Not good, definitely not good.

“Killer. C’mon, don’t… Hey.”

Killer inhales, exhales. Wipes at his eyes and looks at Kidd because he can’t help it, can he? He’s always listened to Kidd, no matter if he’s dead-tired or down-and-out or pissed off beyond measure. Kidd can count the times he’s seen Killer cry on one fucking hand, and that includes the times when they were kids and Killer didn’t have a mask to hide behind yet.

Yet Killer… stands there like can’t stand being close to Kidd, not now; Kidd’s heart clenches, threatens to stop functioning altogether.

“Call me an asshole. Do whatever you want just… Don’t leave, okay? Don’t leave. Please.”

There are still tears on Killer’s cheeks but– “’m not”, the words are a wet-sounding sigh more than anything. “You’ll just run after me and fuck up”, a vague gesture to Kidd, “That. All of it. Even more.”

Kidd’s lips tug up, just a bit. “Hell yeah I will.” A pause, uncertain despite himself. “Come back? I won’t say shit, promise.”

Killer sniffs. “Doubt that.” He makes his way to Kidd much like he arrived, exhaustion written all over his shoulders, near-boneless with it. Letting Kidd grab onto the hem of his – technically Kidd’s – shirt and following the tug to the edge of Kidd’s cot.

“Get in.”

“We won’t fit.”

“Get in. C’mon.”

Killer does, his bony knees jabbing Kidd’s one too many times to be a coincidence. The cot creaks dangerously under their combined weight but it holds and, oh, this is nice. Perfect, really. Killer is right there like this, frowning down on Kidd as Kidd grins up to him.

“Hi.”

“Now what?”

“Now you sleep.” Kidd gestures to his outstretched arm with his chin for emphasis, wincing as the motion tugs at his neck. And his face. Ouch. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Kidd. You’re this close to passing out.”

“And? S’are you.”

With how stubborn Killer can get, Kidd marks it down as progress when his partner reviews their current predicament with a critical glance. “Gonna have to turn my back on you”, he mutters, and: “Don’t move. Just stay put.”

Kidd is happy to do exactly that, watching Killer flop on his side and hiss as the movement jolts his arm. This close, Kidd can feel the heat coming off the wound – he promised not to say anything stupid, so he opts to say nothing at all. Just curls himself around Killer as best as he can without touching it, which isn’t much given his own arm is– Yeah.

“Kil?”

Almost nothing.

“…Yeah?”

Kidd rests his forehead against Killer’s neck, breathing him in. “Thanks. For everything.”

And it’s enough, to feel Killer’s quiet hum against his chest. There will be time for everything else, later.

#one piece #eustass kid #killer one piece #kidkiller #one piece fanfiction #fanfiction #tumblr is Not having the wacky formatting hhhh oh well #this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff #this gave me quite some trouble so sorry for the delay c:

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millennial-star-gazer · 5 years ago

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Tantric Flames: Chapter: 9

Tantric Flames

Nalu lovefest 2019 Prompts: Magic, Worship, Reckless , Forbidden and Cravings (All Implied)

Genres: Romance, Humor, New Adult Fanfiction

Pairing:Nalu (Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You've been warned!)

Summary: One look, one smouldering hooded gaze, one word, one fiery kiss, one magnetizing touch was all he needed for her to completely unravel at his mercy alone, succumbing to the sinful temptation of her inhibitions, his love, his feral passion, his raw, insatiable desires, his "Tantric Flames". Originally an Submission for Nalulovefest 2017 (on previous accounts) in which Natsu gives his mate a tantric massage-after much persuasion- she won't soon forget when it turns into so much more. Also previously featured in Nalu lovefest 2018 (on current accounts) , as well as Nalu Week 2017, Nalu Fluff Week and Nalu lovefest 2017 (as stated) with first three chapters on my previous celestialgeekmage accounts . Chapter 7 was also an entry for nalu week 2019 and Chapter 8 for Nalu Lovefest 2019. ( Nalu-centric) (Slight Au).

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Chapter 9: Tempted by A Tantric Touch

A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl Millennial StarGazer! This time I'm returning with another long-awaited installment of Tantric Flames. Once again, a major thanks to and koodos to @bmarvels, @mannyegb, @animezing-fandoms/princess-starry-night, and @allie-and-her-fandoms for helping me edit and further develop this chapter! Now without further ado, here's the story-enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairytail which belongs to the one and only Hiro-sensei instead!

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1. Tantric Flames

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Chapter: 9 (Next Chapter ) (Coming Soon)

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Legend:

Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: Empathized Word(s)

Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).

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"You run your fingers over every part of my body and tease me with your touch".

(Source Unknown)

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Oh God, those love bites. So many love bites that decorated the blonde's creamy skin like jewels; far too numerous to count that always sent a red-hot line fire rippling through her nerves with with every nip, every suck; each every and stroke of Natsu's velvet tongue. Plus, he's usually doing other things at the same time. Racy images of the couple's steamy moments together from the last soak flooded Lucy's mind.

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Flashback

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The celestial mage's back arching of its own accord into Natsu's touch from robust hands cupping her breast; Blazing digits kneading the twin peaks in time with lips sucking along Lucy's pulse with so much skill that she couldn't help the heady moan that escaped her throat.

"Ya feel that, Luce?" Nastu growled in his princess's ear, the dark undercurrent of his territorial voice pulling a tingly shiver from her. "My marks all over that perfect body of yours— and not just the permanent one when you swore your heart to me . All of those are symbols of my essence, my claim, my love. That you belong to me and me alone. My mate and queen, forever and always. And those sounds you're makin'? Hot as hell."

Pretty sure, dude leaves marks on me as his way of announcing to the world I'm off limits as his mate. Explains why he's always quick to leave a fresh one in its place even after I cover them— not that I'm complaining. Plus, it's not only for his benefit but mine. It's great that he knows how much I love receiving hickeys and gets off from it.

Seriously, what more could I ask for?

Not to mention how lovely it always was to unwind with Natsu after each bath. The wizard was often keen in his offer to dry the blonde's damp hair with a towel or fire-magic-powered steam; from her perch on his lap or between his legs.

Much more relaxing than using a hair dryer if you ask me.

The dragonslayer would sometimes even hum or sing a familiar tune from days past in that appealing, gravelly baritone of his; would usually lull the already-zen mage into the world of dreams when combined with the sooth dual sensation of fingers combing through her hair, .

"I tell you, I tell you, the dragonborn comes ..."

Anyother guild member who might be eavesdropping, however, would often be quick to lightheartedly goad the blonde mage ( much to her chargin). Natsu no doubt would find this hilarious of course; which would serve for Lucy's cheeks to flush an even deeper shade of crimson than she already was.

"Say Luce, is that a blush I see?" he once crooned, a teasing edge to his words; though the affectionate mirth sparkling in his eyes warmed her heart just a little. "Aw, is my girl a little embarrassed? That's okay though— makes ya all the more adorable and endearing than you already are. You want me to make it all better? Cuz I can! Got plenty of kisses! Come on, you know you want some which I'm more than happy to give. God I love ya' so much, you know that?"

It's amazing really... Lucy ruminated in fond awe. How Natsu can switch between the different roles and sides to him with relative ease. From Romantic and tender to dominant, playful and affectionate; then back again on top of everything else all seemingly at the drop of a hat. All an innate part of his overall nature I guess— essentially what makes up who he is. Some people may find this a bit confusing to keep up with— but I don't. Just makes him all the more complex.

Though those people would also be right when they say that the dude still has a devious streak, she couldn't help but add with wry smirk. Even with me, though never with malicious intent. German suplex, non-stop tickling, dumping me in a tub of freezing cold water during one of our baths— too many pranks to count really. At least he's always quick to follow up with plenty of affection ever since we became an item— can't complain about that."

"You ready to get started Lucy?" Natsu's keen voice broke through Lucy's reverie.

"You know it!" The celestial mage chirped, unable to mask the pure enthusiasm in her voice; earning an amused chuckle from the dragon wizard . "Can't wait. I take it you'll be hoarding me for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Mhmm" Came his content hum in response." That really a bad thing, though?"

"No, definitely not."

"I figured. Why don't we get you up on that massage bed?"

"Sure thing!"

A buzz of anticipation was practically thrumming in Lucy's blood from such tantalizing implications of his words; the stunt Natsu pulled next , though— that was what really shot a thrilling jolt up her spine.

"Let's finish what we started later, yeah?"

The dragonslayer's proposal was punctuated by a light tap on the summoner's ass for good measure,; which resulted in a delighted squeal.

"O-okay!" was said female's response in the form of a breathy giggle.

"Let me get you that towel while I'm at it."

"Sure— thanks."

"My pleasure."

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A Few Minutes Later

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"Ugh...do me a huge favor and burn this towel. Will ya?"

Lucy couldn't help but let out an audible groan along with the heat rising in her cheeks. Good god was the particularly moist spot on the white towel a truly mortifying sight to behold. Basically tell-tale remnants of liquid arousal that had been wiped clean from her legs just moments before.

Mavis only knows what would happen if Levy or Cana noticed during laundry duty.

" Okay... why though?" Natsu questioned, brows drawing together in mild confusion. "As in why do you want me to?"

"Guild Laundry day" came Lucy's automatic reply."That's why."

"Not following ya.' Natsu blinked owlishly in uncomprehension.

"Levy…..and Cana….." Lucy supplied, a finger twirling an errant strand of blonde hair in :a self-conscious display." "I... uh.."

"Still don't know what you mean here, Luce."

"It's their turn to do laundry duty." She attempted to break down what was apparently such an abstract concept into simpler terms; not able to help the aggravation rising in the back of her mind.

"Yeah? So?"

"They'll probably see the moist stain on the towel." Lucy clarified, forcing her voice to remain level.

"I see— don't see the problem though."

"Think about who'll most likely be with them ."

"Gajeel and Laxus but…...ahh—"

Realization dawned on Natsu's face. "I get it now. What you're saying is that they'll probably catch a whiff of your arousal? "

"Well, the lingering remnants of the scent anyway. Seriously though?" he tacked on, lifting a questioning brow."That's what you're worried about?"

"Yeah... I am," Lucy admitted, nerves leaking into her voice. "Aren't you?"

"Not really, no." Natsu gave a shrug of his shoulders—seemingly unfazed.

"Why's that?" Lucy couldn't help but shoot him a puzzled glance.

"Cuz it'll show everyone how much I rocked your world." Natsu replied, flashing his mate a cheeky grin. " And what's not to love about that?"

"Pervert — of course you'd say that!" Lucy screeched, skin flushing a deep shade of crimson.

"That's me!"

"Ugh, still don't know what to do about the moist spot— those four are never gonna let me live it down."

"You know if you're that worried, I could always use my tongue to clean ya up instead." Natsu drawled with a lazy smirk that set her heart all pit-patter .

"And of course, you'd suggest that," Lucy quipped with a slight roll of her eyes. "Did I mention how much of a horn dragon you are? "

"Yeah, but only for a certain gorgeous blonde of mine and she loves it."

"Oh, she does, huh?" Lucy raised a challenging brow.

"Yep. Don't bother trying to deny it, Luce".

"Ugh fine... you're right. I do. Seriously, you and your colossal ego though."

"Why, thank you! If you're impressed by that, you'd really should see my co—"

The rest of Natsu's words were cut off by Lucy's hand swatting him with a pillow which was met with a snicker.

"Pervert" Lucy deadpanned with another eye roll. "By way, you would've found yourself in the proverbial dog house if you actually meant the other kind of 'fighting earlier."

Only for Natsu's face to instantly fall in response to her statement.

"What?" Natsu objected, gaping at her with wide eyes. " And deprive me of the chance to wake up to your beautiful face each morning for that long?!"

"Yep." Lucy gave a nod by way of reply.

"But why? You know that's not the type of fightin' I met!"

"Well yeah, I know that now. But not earlier when you originally brought up. Just be glad that you didn't bail on our date earlier."

"I didn't though! And never would— honest Luce!" Natsu's voice lifted into a petulant whine.

"Hmm.. Okay, good to know. " Lucy responded, raising her hands to placate him. "Though you'll have to be without me for a few days anyway.

"Wait, seriously?" Natsu faltered , bewildered panic flashing in his eyes. . "Come on! What is it this time?"

"Camping retreat in the woods next week that Cana, Mira, Lisanna, and Erza are organizing— ladies only."

"W-ha?" Natsu continued to sputter, his poor brain no doubt short circuiting by now." But Elfman said that it was open to anyone who's free to go!"

"Really? Lucy mused in thoughtful interest. "That's not what I heard... huh."

"What am I supposed to do without you?"

"How about something fun with the guys? Should be nice, right?"

"Yeah, but so is spending time with you Lucy! It's always more fun when we're together like you said."

"And I don't disagree. Doesn't change anything though. The trip's still happening."

"Didn't say it wasn't but it'd still suck here without you! Natsu moaned, that desperate sense of longing bleeding into his voice. " I'd miss ya' too much! So would our little buddy! Can't we tag along? Maybe Even share an air mattress in a decent-sized tent? I'd gladly help set up and keep you cozy in my arms at night."

"What about Happy?" Lucy questioned, intrigued by his suggestion. His offer does sound really tempting.

"Obviously he'd share the tent with us but would have his own sleeping bag and could hang with Wendy and Carla whenever we wanted alone time. Plus there are all these cool spots I could take you to on nature hikes!."

"Sounds great."

"Course it is! So whaddya say? You onboard?" Natsu wheedled, flashing her what could only be described as the most flawless puppy eyes she'd ever seen.

"Aw that's really tempting and" Lucy gushed, heart contracting at the adorable pout he was throwing in too. Normally I'd say yes"— but it'll have to wait. Thank you though! I'd love to take you up on that offer another day."

"Oh come on— please I wanna go!" Natsu huffed,stamping his foot as if he were a child pitching a fit over being denied a coveted toy- quite an amusing display to say the least.

"Not this time I'm afraid. Sorry, them's the brakes."

"Lucyyyyyyyyy!" Natsu whined again, dragging the syllables of her name with such melodrama that she finally decided to let him off the hook

" Jeez.. enough with the dramatics already. " Lucy yielded with an exasperated groan, You can still come— the trip is for everyone. I was only kidding after all."

Said confession was met with a noise of stunned dimsay from from the pyro.

"Wait... so ya' mean to tell me that this was a joke?! he muttered, voice coming out with a small pinch of disbelief. "You were pulling my leg the entire time?"

"Yep— consider it payback for me making think you were gonna ditch earlier."

"That's why? That's not nice, Luce— not very nice at all." Natsu grumbled, though not with any real heat.

"Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?" Lucy baited, a daring lilt to her words.

" Oh —- wouldn't you like to know?" Natsu rumbled, eyes sparking in a such a calculating way that it sent a electrifying chill down Lucy's spine.

"I would— ngh! Nastuuuu!"

The rest of what Lucy was attempting to say Lucy's words were cut off by the lighting- fast sweep of Natsu's velvet tongue up her thighs . Not to mention that electric high-voltage jolt of ecstasy flooding her veins.

"There! that should show ya!" Natsu let out a cackle of glee. " Not to ever play dirty tricks on a dragon I mean. Guess you're not gonna need that towel after all, huh Lucy?"

"My God..."

"Yeah, I know . Just that amazing with my tongue, I guess. Natsu purred, voice laced with am indecorous promise "Plus, hearing ya' scream my name like that just gave me another hard-on that I'd love for you to see .. "

"Jeez … of course it'd would . and no real shocker that you would say something like that."

"Yep- you know me so well, Luce. and it's not like you're complain' anyway. Want me to prove it?"

" Maybe.. But God- you're such a pompous ass, you know that?"

"Yeah but all part of my charm, sweetheart."

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

A/N: And that's Chapter 9 folks! My apologies for the delay by the way! I originally wanted to post this much sooner but got hit with writer's block after getting a somewhat stumped on a particular segment of this chapter. I've also been with my other ongoing fanfics, WIPs and responsibilities among other things in my life . That all aside, at least this chapter was finally posted! Now please feel free to do me a solid and let me know what you think by leaving a comment/ review! Stay tuned for Chapter 10 too! Oh and please feel free to check out the rest of my writing which can be found above, on my profiles and in master post if reading this on tumblr. All right, that's pretty much all I have to say for now! Thanks to all my mutuals/friends, readers and followers for their continuous support over the years! (Corresponding links for the master of my writing and profiles can be found above, in the navigation bar of the desktop and bio if reading this on tumblr.) Until next time-take care!

#fairytail #ft fanfics #nalu #endlu #natsu x lucy #e.n.d natsu x lucy #tantric flames #my writing #millennial star gazer writes #millennial stargazer #please reblog

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dreamwritesimagines · 5 years ago

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Untouchable 14- Consequences [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Last two chapters! <3 I hope you’ll like it!

The previous chapters are on my masterlist<3

Pleasure has a price Bucky Barnes can’t afford. What happens when he falls in love with someone he shouldn’t have?

Summary: The last goodbye is usually unknown.

Characters: Reader x Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2375

Warnings: Mentions of sex, explicit language, 1940s.

What happened next was almost too fast. They dragged him outside, General and his friends left the ball, you were sent home but not before you learned where they were taking him.

It had taken you hours to get inside.

“Miss?” a police officer called out, “You may visit him, only two minutes though.”

You nodded fervently, jumping on your feet and followed him into the hall. Somehow, other cells were empty but you could see his figure sitting by the corner silently. Tears filled your eyes, but you tried to pull yourself together, taking a shaky breath.

You walked closer to the bars of the cell, but as soon as you did, you covered your mouth with a gasp while Bucky tried to smile at you, his face full of bruises as if-

“Who did this?” you managed to ask, blinking back the tears and he shook his head,

“It’s not important.”

“It is!”

“It’s the jungle rules here, darling. Don’t worry about me.” He touched your hand that was wrapped around the steel bar, “How are you? He didn’t-?”

“No, I-“ You sniffled, “You shouldn’t have done it.”

“I wasn’t going to let him talk to you like that. I couldn’t.”

You wiped at your eyes, “Do you know what they will do to you?”

A shadow crossed Bucky’s face, but only for a second, “I’ll be fine.”

“Bucky you don’t know how much power he has,” you told him, “How much pull he has- he could destroy your life!”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about me,” he repeated, “Are you safe?”

You ran your thumb over his hand, then nodded slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“He knows nothing,” you assured him, “And I- I don’t care anymore. Let’s get you out first, then…” you trailed off, then swallowed thickly, “Then, I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“Miss,” the police officer opened the door, “Time to go.”

“Darling-“ he started, but you shook your head.

“Bucky, I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again but- no matter what happens, okay? Even if you stay here for a while, even if- even if this war lasts for decades, I’ll wait. I promise you.”

Even if this war lasts for decades.

Yeah, you really shouldn’t have said that.

“I love you,” Bucky said breathlessly and you blinked back the tears,

“I love you too.” You managed to say, “Stay safe.”

With that, you walked out of the hall, closing your eyes as the officer slammed the door shut behind you.

You didn’t know it back then, really.

But it would take you a long, very long time until you would see Bucky again.

***

“Where were you!?” Thomas asked as soon as he opened the door for you, then pulled you inside, “You look like a mess!”

“I know,” you sniffled, “I… I can’t stay for long, I need to change my clothes and go see the General-“

“Oh well, today is your lucky day then,” he whispered, “He’s waiting for you in your room.”

Your head snapped up, “What?!” you asked “What is he doing here?!”

“I don’t know. He’s been in there for a while now.”

“God damn it-“ you cussed under your breath before gathering the long skirts of the gown and made your way upstairs, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You took a deep breath, tried to pull yourself together before you opened the door and forced yourself to smile.

“General,” you said, “What a pleasant surprise.”

He was looking out of the window, but as soon as he turned to you, you could see how swollen his nose was –probably broken- along with his split lip. You frowned.

“Oh my goodness,” you said with a fake worry in your tone, “Does it hurt?”

“Sit down, Birdie.”

“Do you need me to get you ice?”

“Sit down,” he ordered and you pursed your lips, then sat down on your chair, looking up at him with that well practiced, wide-eyed innocent look.

“You worry me,” you said slowly, and he took a deep breath.

“Talk.”

You tilted your head, “About what?” you asked, and he gritted his teeth, then sat down on your bed, resting his elbows on his knees.

“What the fuck was that?”

“General-“

“Don’t lie to me!” his sudden shout made you flinch and in a second he was standing right in front of you, squeezing your upper arm tight enough to hurt, “No more of that, Birdie. You get that? Unless you want me to hurt him. Or hurt you in front of him. Whichever you will choose.”

Okay, think.

Think, you got this.

“Okay,” you said softly, “I- Charles, you’re hurting my arm.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, then let your arm go, “That’ll be the least of your worries if you don’t start talking,” he said, and went to sit down on your bed again as you licked your lips.

You had to find a way to get Bucky off the hook, while assuring the General that he was not a threat to….

Whatever this was.

“I-“ you started, your mind working nonstop, “I don’t think I understand what happened last night, but-“

“You know him.”

“Barely.” You corrected him, and he raised his brows.

“I saw you two together once. On the street.”

“Yes, and that’s how we met,” you lied through your teeth, “Back then. I forgot my lighter, so I asked him, and he lit my cigarette and didn’t reject me when I asked him to walk me home. That street is pretty dangerous, you know? All kinds of people there.”

He let out an impatient breath, “You told me.” He said, “And?”

“And then you saw us,” you licked your lips, “And you were very…. Well, I liked your reaction.”

He looked taken aback, “My reaction,” he repeated and you nodded.

“See, you’re a very hard man to-“ you pretended to search for words, “Sometimes, I can’t even tell if you love me as much as I love you! But back then, when you saw us, I saw something in your eyes and it made me happy. Like you- like you didn’t want to share me or something.”

You were really getting nauseous by your own lies, but you knew you had to keep going.

“How is that-?”

“And then, there was that time you were very busy, remember?” you cut him off, “So I…. oh God, this is very embarrassing…”

“What?”

“I thought since you have many sources, the word would just reach you,” you said, “We…I saw him on the street again, and I admit, I may have encouraged him to- flirt with me, but only because I thought it would get me your attention again! I thought you’d stop paying attention to your business and come to me, I had missed you so, so much by then.” You averted your eyes, as if you weren’t comfortable with admitting it, “I thought I lost your interest, and I… I wanted to make you jealous. Nothing happened, I swear to you, just…people saw us talking on the street, but you- for some reason didn’t hear about it, and didn’t get jealous, and-“ you blinked your eyes, as if you were trying to stop the tears, and managed to crack your voice, “And now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t a good idea, but I was desperate.”

“You did that to get my attention.” He repeated, gawking at you and you nodded, looking up at him with tear filled eyes.

“Yes.”

“And last night?”

“He is naïve I think,” you said, “He thought something could come out of the harmless flirting. But-“ you cleared your throat, “Just today, I went to see him, and I told him everything. How it could never happen, how he was merely a tool for me to regain your attention. He was a little heartbroken, but-“ you shrugged, “I don’t care about that.”

He fell into silence and heaved a sigh, shaking his head,

“Jesus, Birdie…”

Oh thank God.

“If you’re not so angry at me, may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“What will happen to him?” you asked, “Because I- well, my mother always used to say if you do something bad, something bad will happen to you in return, you see. And I have this nightmare-“ you sniffled, “I feel like something bad will happen to you if his life is ruined because of my pettiness.”

He clicked his tongue, then shrugged, “I haven’t decided yet. I might make him stay in jail for the rest of his life, which…might not be long. I have a lot of friends in there.”

You thought your heart dropped, “Oh-?”

“But I could drop the charges…” he thought out loud, “You silly girl, what the hell were you thinking, hm?”

Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him.

“I just… it would make me so happy if you dropped charges,” you told him, “So that I could put all that behind me. Behind us.”

He looked into your eyes as if trying to see whether you were telling the truth or not, but then let out a breath.

“Come by my house tonight,” he said, “I’ll send you a car, hm? And-“ he pointed a finger at your face, “Don’t think you got off that easily, we will have a talk about just how fucking stupid you acted.”

Why don’t you just drop dead, you asshole?

“Of course,” you smiled at him, “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Wear something nice,” he told you before he walked out of the room and as soon as he did, you sat down on your bed, pressing your palms on your eyes.

“Fuck.”

***

The road to General’s house felt way too long, way too bumpy. You tried to blame your nausea on it at least, but even you knew it wasn’t because of that.

It was because you had an idea about what would happen once you got there.

Now to think of it, you must’ve had gotten used to that, but each time, if felt even more difficult than the last. Maybe it was Bucky’s influence on you, the same reason why his dog tags were hidden safely in your purse.

You quickly prayed for him to be alright before the car stopped in front of the huge house and you stepped out after heaving a sigh. The driver helped you out and you walked to the door then knocked on it. The maid opened the door in a second, as if she was already waiting for you and led you inside as you tried to slow down your heartbeat.

Nothing you hadn’t done before…. Nothing you don’t know….

He was waiting for you by the couch as the maid closed the door behind you, and you shot him a fake smile as he filled your glass.

“Hello,”

“Hi Birdie,” he said, then handed you the glass. You took a huge sip of bourbon, ignoring the men behind you placing the meal on the table.

“You started early,” you said, “Before dinner?”

“Yes well, I had a lot of things to think about.”

You took another sip, “Can I help?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah maybe you can explain why the fuck you have been cheating on me with Bucky Barnes."

The simple question made you lose your breath for a moment, your head snapping up and you stared at him for a couple of seconds, then pulled your brows together.

“I-“

“I can hurt you really bad if you start your lies again.”

That got you to stop talking immediately and you tried to catch your breath before you licked your lips, commanding yourself to be calm.

“I don’t understand,” you managed to say, and he scoffed, then downed his drink, slamming the glass on the coffee table.

“I would’ve given you everything Birdie,” he muttered to himself, “You’d have the world, and you threw all that away because of him?”

“General-“

“I couldn’t possibly drag you out of the damn brothel, too many witnesses,” he said, “I did give you a chance to come clean though, you can’t say I didn’t.”

Adrenaline filled your system along with the panic and you cussed at yourself for leaving your pocket knife back in your room, as you took a step back slowly.

“I would’ve let you go away if you wanted to leave me.”

And that made you see red, despite your panic.

“Bullshit,” you said before you could even control yourself, “You’re sick, Charles. I’m not yours to be allowed to do things. You don’t get to let me do anything.”

He took another step towards you, “What did he offer you Birdie? Hm? Life in poverty? That’s what you want?”

You didn’t even dignify that with an answer, but instead you turned around to run to the door, but one of the men stopped you and turned you around, holding you tight. You struggled against his grip, trying to kick him and letting out a scream but he covered your mouth when General motioned at him.

“See, here’s the thing,” he said, “Nobody sucker punches me. Including you and your little lover, hm?” he took another step, looking you dead in the eye, “I would kill him if it were up to me, but my friends in higher places want him for something else. He is a good soldier after all, he can be used. He’s shipping out tonight, as we speak.”

“And you will kill me.” You spat as the man lowered his hand and General let out a chuckle.

“Not really sweetheart,” he said, “What we’re planning for your lover, we need test subjects, especially to see where we will keep him. Not many people volunteer for that, they just…. Froze so far. Not very pleasant.”

“What?” you managed to ask and he raised his brows.

“Don’t worry Birdie. For all he will know, you died of tuberculosis while he was fighting at the front. That is, if he will remember you.”

You could barely feel the sting of a needle on your neck before everything went blurry.

“Good night Birdie,” his slow murmur reached you, and the darkness filled your vision.

***

@rhabakoli @rmwest94 @finnickfoxes @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @fictionwillneverdie @superwolfchild-fan @marauderskeeper @propertyofpoeandbucky @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lettersofwrittencollective @i-am-always-famished @small-round-and-angry @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @geekandbooknerd @mamaraptor @j-finco @the-omni-princess @supercarricat @anxietysucks @fortisfiliae @stopitchris @nea90sweetie @inforapound @theladybiers @aikeji @littledarlinhavefaithinme @marvelgirl7 @starkrobb @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @paramorefold @alytavzla @youclickedthislink @lexlikestoread @hangirl93 @bucky-5eva @thisyouth

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky imagines #1940s!bucky #40s!bucky #40s bucky barnes #1940s bucky barnes imagine #1940s bucky barnes imagines #1940s bucky barnes

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theharellan · 4 years ago

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: stolen from @dansiere tagging: @ghiassan, @deathsreflection, @altuspavus, @windrunnerrs (velanna), @hopewrought, @willbeshot, @seahaloed (iron bull), @asterfed (noctis), @ anyone who wants to steal it! also multis feel free to choose a different character

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated (i’m open to roleplaying with non-dragon age characters, and have AUs for other fandoms)

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. solas is both wildly popular and wildly hated. he’s been more consistently popular than the controversial women in the series, like sera or vivienne, who have only recently begun to get to the point where their tags are less vitriolic (although i’m sure it’s still out there), but there’s still a sizable hatedom that can’t have his name breathed in their vicinity w/o them talking abt how much they hate him. even if you’re currently cosplaying him!

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. again, you have ppl who are super into him and ppl who think he’s ugly. my personal opinion is that i think he’s weirdly pretty, and wish ppl would commit more to his unconventional features rather than try to chisel him into sb more traditionally attractive and that ppl who don’t find him attractive would maybe chill w/ calling him ugly. find him unattractive by all means, but lets embrace the fact that inquisition let their love interests have skin flaws etc and accept that some won’t be our cups of tea.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. its hard to deny at this point tbh.

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK. frustrating as the hate in the tags he has enough fans that i couldnt say he’s underrated w/ a straight face.

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO. he’s the reason the game starts with a bang and not the inevitable dissolution of the conclave b/c the sides are disparate.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. regardless of solas’ relationship with the inquisitor, there are parallels and contrasts in their stories and he also is the reason they survive inquisition.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. fen’harel is well-known and revered, if feared, among the dalish, yet at the same time he’s not remembered for a lot besides locking the gods away-- and the context of that decision has also been lost. as solas he’s relatively unknown until inquisition and especially trespasser.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. again, polarising!! he has loyal agents and people are willing to speak well of him despite everything, including his enemies sometimes (depending mostly on the inquisitor).

How strictly do you follow canon? — generally i try to have a canon basis for my interpretation, even if i interpret the text differently than the author.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — solas is an immortal who is simultaneously jaded and very much invested in the small moments of life. far from being weary of the day-to-day lives of ordinary people, it is systems and orders he is most tired of. he walks an interesting line that feels far less misanthropic than other immortal characters i’ve experienced, yet still he’s quite cynical. as a character who has fought against religious based tyranny before, but in a completely different era, he is in a unique position where what he sees around him is both horrifyingly familiar and yet completely new. it allows an exploration of the wrongs of thedas’ society from an outsider’s perspective. his motivations are complex and multifaceted, often condemnable and yet also understandable. his character arc in inquisition (if befriended, or regardless in the case of my solas) takes him from a dispassionate, disconnected antagonist to someone deeply invested in the people of thedas, deeply conflicted and actively hoping he will be proven wrong again. i think his story is a testament to human (or elven, or dwarven, or-) connection and how even when we resist we can’t resist creating bonds with the people in our lives. i personally see this bond going beyond the inquisitor hence why i play low-approval solas as conflicted as high-approval, if not when it comes to the inquisitor.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — solas is selfish and motivated solely by revenge, he’s clinging to a past that clearly no longer exists, if you ignore all the people from it who are still alive. he’s totally unaware of all his flaws and never owns up to any mistakes ever. no, i haven’t listened to a single word solas has said in my life why do you ask. he’s also critical of my faves which means he’s #cancelled, there is clearly no validity to what he’s saying. ksjdf no but in all seriousness i think a lot of reasons ppl don’t find solas interesting are just... weird readings of his character that sometimes have no basis in the text of inquisition, but also there are plenty of perfectly valid reasons to not find him interesting. usually those ppl don’t like... talk abt how much they don’t find him interesting constantly tho. they just chill and aren’t invested in this particular villain. for one thing i think the game missed out on opportunities for exploring how someone who may not have even had a body at the beginning of his existence would feel about gender and sexuality, so making him presumably straight and cis was a boring choice. i also think that the dragon age games being very protagonist-centric hurts solas’ character, there’s no real reason why the inquisitor is the only one who can throw his plans into question but making the player the center of the universe means he’s not allowed to change due to the effects of other companions or NPCs. thank god this is rp and i do what i want.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — i have a history degree so when the inquisition companions were being teased, solas describing bias in primary sources from the memories he’s seen got me interested in him. but my first playthrough i didn’t actually take him with me all too often, i think my main party was dorian-blackwall-varric. i liked him, and i think he or dorian were my first friends in skyhold, but my initial interest was in other characters. between his dialogue that appealed to the historian in me tho and how his spirit opinions sort of turned everything i’d felt about spirits in the last two games on its head, i started vibing with him more the farther i went in. like merrill set me up for the “spirits are people” thing and solas hit it out of the park. then temple of mythal happened, and i did bring solas with me there. i found his dialogue fascinating and also suspicious, i’d just finished masked empire like the day before da:i came out so i definitely thought solas was an ancient elf in the same vein as felassan. it was after temple of mythal that i actually decided to make his blog, although like as one idk linchpin to cement my status as solas trash... i was hit BAD by the banter bug on my first playthrough, probably got like a dozen banters total. but then at some point late in the game i took solas to the forbidden oasis and he wouldn’t stop talking to people, and i really loved his banter with the rest of my party at the time.

What keeps your inspiration going? — replaying inquisition, new DA content when the bioware gods deign to grant us a lifeline, but the biggest thing is my rp partners. i wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the people i write with, new and old. my activity of late hasn’t been the best, work and the summer heat has really been sapping me of energy, and does even during years when we aren’t going through a pandemic. but it’s the thought of my rp partners and love of solas that keeps me coming back.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? i have my doubts sometimes, but i think i do ok.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF? there is no headcanon too small for me.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO. but not lately * gestures to the low activity * i’ve been in this cycle where i get anxious abt late replies, so prioritise them, then burn myself out and can’t write the fics i want. i’ve had two i’ve been DYING to write tho i just... need to find the space in my brain to let myself.

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO. i mean it depends on the day. if i work closing shifts at my store it gets very quiet and boring around 8:30 so i spent the next 90 minutes thinking about character stuff.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF?

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO / SOMETIMES.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO / SORTA.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — i’m going to say ‘no’ because like, i don’t ask for criticism. this is a hobby based on my interpretation of a character, if you think i write solas too soft then you’re welcome to think that, but i’m happy with the balance i’ve struck with his internal versus external behaviour and how he changes based upon who he’s speaking to. if you think i’m erasing straight people by making solas pan then ksjdfs. ok.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — yes!!! even if they retread ground already trodden, a) my interpretation may have adjusted since the last time i played or b) a reminder is nice. if it’s new stuff then it’s fun to think about.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — it’d depend on why they disagree. if they just disagree on a subjective opinion about what i took from a certain line, then they’re welcome to their opinion but i don’t necessarily care to hear it. if it is unintentionally hurtful then i would like to know. although rather than a comment i’d rather a non-anonymous message.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — same as the above.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — if they’re vocal about it i typically just unfollow / softblock if i was following in the first place. people can feel how they want about solas, but i’ve found over the years that if people really hate solas ooc it can often bleed into their ic interactions. it’s really weird seeing your character being brought up repeatedly in threads with others specifically to dunk on, for no reason other than i guess solas is living rent free in their heads, so at least we have that in common. but anyway unfollowing is just the best choice to avoid getting kinda pressed if i’m having a bad day.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — roleplay is the wild west of writing, so i think it’d depend on what the error was. coming at me like “you shouldn’t start a sentence with a preposition” would get a laugh, but i don’t edit my replies much if at all and mistakes will 100% happen. pointing out typos is chill so long as you do it politely.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — it depends! i’ve learned that being too easy going actually just means i’m subjecting myself to negative emotions to please people. so i’ve gotten less easy going as the years go by. how does one define “easy going” anyway? does asking that question mean i am objectively not easy going? the longer this thought goes on the more the answer seems to be “probably not,” but i like to think it could be a lot worse.

#( long post )#( ooc )#( about me )

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hughiecampbelle · 5 years ago

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Feeling Blue (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,147

Tag List: not including!

A/N: I didn't want to include the tag list, I'm sorry my loves!!! Next time, I promise. I know this isn't great, or good, but I wanted to write something and get it out. It's not plot driven, this was more for therapy. This was just so hard to write and to focus on. I wanna get through this block, and the only way to do so is write, even if it's badly. I don't even wanna post this, but it's my way to show that I'm trying :) Anyways, I hope the next fic is better! 💜💖💜

~ FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. ~

You can see it in the cracks of your lips, the veins of your wrists, the waves beneath your eyes. The Blue. The source, the cause, the affect. The sky, the ocean, so much beauty trapped in a color. Not this one, though. Wet ink, cloudless skies, the daunting unknown swirled in a single hue. Dots freckled, speckled, and then all at once. The Blue. A film across your eyes, a haze, a fog melting every thought, every idea or plan. Old wounds threatened to reopen, stitched unwound. You were a bruise. Sore, bright, begging, aching to be touched. Held. Blood vessels bursting, exploding, the rest of you imploding, caving so deeply within yourself there's no way out.

There's never been a way out.

Crouching, crying, doing your best to protect yourself in the lack of control, the lack of regulation, structure. Everything was falling, failing, crumbling before your eyes. One prick to your blue skin, so tender, so helpless, and it could mean the end. The answer, something to turn to when there was nothing left. Painful, ruthless, unforgiving. It bit with razor blades in its gums and it refused to let go. A rightful fear among your people. That pain, the aches and screams, sometimes, that was okay. Sometimes, it didn't seem so scary.

It was always there. Looming, waiting, resting for the day. The day that would always come, it would always be there. And when it did, her arms open to welcome you, blue and all, and it would be welcomed. Reconnecting with an old friend. She knew all your secrets, your prayers, kissing your cheek before you met the end, whatever it held. She wanted you to feel safe in uncertainty, to be loved in this war between yourself. That was always the goal, wasn't it? To find a love as meaningful, as infinite and greedy, as mortal and selfless, as death herself? A permanent in a world of temporary. Everlasting, enduring, endless. That didn't seem so bad. She wasn't who people thought she was.

Deep aches in your bones, to the marrow, to the nerves, to the very place that put this strain on your skin, your flesh, that added an unbearable weight to your existence in a world like this. Pulling at your limbs until you prayed, like a doll, you'd disassemble, popping out of their joints. Pressing on your eyelids, squeezing your head, until you were sure you'd heard a crack come from your own skull. The Blue did what it wanted, took what it wanted. No motivation, inspiration, no will to inhale and exhale. That was all gone, all you could do was watch from the outside, pleading with yourself to get up, out, to do anything but liquefy, to decompose. Sometimes it's dull, pulsing, it feels alive. Other times, when The Blue bites back, when it digs it's feral claws across you, it's violent. It's screaming, ripping at your hair, it's the needing of something sharp, something you could control, to make it all better. The want to bang your head against the wall, to burn your fingers under scalding water, to press the pillow to your face as hard as you could and hope to suffocate.

The Blue. That's not what he'd called it, but he'd seen it before. Manifest itself in the boys he went to war with, each of them coming home with their own tint. Some deeper than others. Under their nails, on the tip of the or noses, The Blue kissing them each, blessing them with the burden. But this wasn't war, this was life, a different kind of survival, a different type of unimaginable. He'd seen it ruin too many bright futures, an abrupt ending to something young, something too new, before it could thicken it's skin. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared. The look in your eyes, under the flim. Dead, wide eyes watching him helplessly, too tired to cry, too tired to live, letting yourself rot.

She'd kissed him, too. Up and down, blotting him in blue eyed love poems. He knew the things that ran through your mind, the indescribable lack of joy, the sobbing fits turned to nothing. All of it, even the things that can't be put into words. Tommy watched those spots pulse, flare up for no reason. He knew the sinking feeling, the realization it was spreading, overwhelming, until it swallowed him up, until it swallowed you up. But it was hungrier than it used to be, starved, insatiable. It used to be a few bad days. Manageable. Breathable. That's used to be enough. Now, weeks turned into months, until the seasons changed outside the window and you were still sleeping, curled into yourself, watching through a wall where nothing could touch you. That's what it felt like, a wall between you and the rest of the world.

A blue wall.

He wanted to smash it down with his bare fists. He wished she would hurt the way you both did, slice her, shoot her, show her her blue lips were doing more harm than good, that she was a curse, a burden. Instead she made the people she loved feel like that, like a burden, feel worthless, a bottle of dread turn on its side. Thomas tried to be there, he tried to get as close as he dould, offer the warmth and love and comfort The Blue had stolen, but he knew it would never be enough. It wiped your minds of happiness, of the little things that made it all worth it, instead focusing on the bad, on past failures, anything to cling to break your heart over and over again.

He could try all he wanted, but she was stronger than him, her passion undying. Death created The Blue, blessing people with it. Invisible to the untrained eye, but powerful, deadly. An illness that stirred doubt, that didn't make people believers until it was too late, just how she hoped. Through eternity, the best, the bold, the common, she fell in love with them all, infecting them, their bodies and minds until they were unrecognizable. He could hate her, blame her all he wanted, but there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Instead he'd wait on the other side as long as you needed, make holes in the wall to keep an eye on you. The Blue would pass. It always did. Your skin would soften, warm up, those patches would grow smaller. He'd wait forever if he had to for the day you could smile again, you could find a reason, a purpose, anything. The day you became yourself again. He'd wait an eternity to get you back. Until then, he'd try to make it better, more bearable, The Blue a little lighter, fainter, until you could scrub it clean from you for good.

#writing #thomas shelby #thomas shelby drabble #thomas shelby oneshot #tommy shelby #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders drabble #peaky blinders oneshot #thomas shelby x reader #thomas x reader #x reader #drabble #oneshot #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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mythandlaur · 4 years ago

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Burai again-- rant about your enby Ajisai?

Technically this is for the headcanon ask meme, but because this is an OC I can’t really answer the questions on it. So I’m going to use this as an opportunity to go off.

Ajisai is my version of Sig’s ancestor/the book demon before it was sealed, as seen in the first two parts of my Divergent Hydrangea fic. I can’t draw, though a friend olligociarts did do a lovely commission of them for me (but I can’t link it because Tumblr is dumb and won’t put it in the tags). Basically they look a little more mature than most interpretations, but I don’t know how they’d translate to the game style--I imagine they’d look similarly as mature as Satan does.

Rambling under the cut. I apologize in advance. Now in convenient bullet points!

“Ajisai” is a name this demon gave themself, and one of many they’ve gone by over the years--their true name is unknown, and they don’t seem keen on sharing.

They’re nonbinary by way of not understanding or caring about gender distinctions and not really getting why people are so fixated on such things; they usually present as somewhat masculine and will respond to any pronouns or gendered titles, but prefer being referred to as they/them.

Physically, they’re quite tall, with long, maroon hair that seems prehensile and displays emotion in the manner of a cat’s tail and red, scaly hide beginning just under their collarbone and trailing down their whole body, most visible in their clawed hands. They also have small bronze horns and pointed ears that can move and twitch like a cat’s. They wear a three-piece suit with a purple-red jacket and pants, gold and red tie, and a long purple cape.

I’ve described them to others as the kind of person who’d be seen staring out a castle window as rain pours outside, cape and hair flowing behind them like a wannabe Dracula one day...and the next, they’d be found on your couch at three in the morning eating Cheerios directly out of a box and genuinely confused as to why you’re so startled.

Basically they’re a weird cryptid and absolutely lean into this aspect of their personality

They’re very mature, refined, and calm, though they have a streak of mischief and a flair for drama. They also have a temper that’s hard to invoke, but terrifying if it’s seen.

An exceptionally shrewd communicator and excellent at reading people, oozing charisma...and yet somehow very bad at social norms, and can come off as awkward if they’re thrown off their game. Very eccentric.

Their magic is extremely powerful, and has never required Puyo to fuel it. They know a full suite of standard spells, but their specialty is in illusion--and moreso than that, magic relating to dreams and nightmares.

Similar to Accord and Ecolo in Tetris Chapter 10, they’re able to freely wander the dreaming realm and visit the dreams of others. When there, they can manipulate the dream to suit their purposes and, to an extent, the dreamer themselves.

Their past is shrouded in uncertainty, but they came to live quietly in an abandoned castle on a cliff overlooking a small village. They became known as the village’s local cryptid and were mostly feared by the villagers due to their species, seclusion, and odd behavior, despite the fact that they never did anything to harm people (beyond perhaps scaring them a bit by embracing the interpretation and pulling a few harmless pranks)

Sometimes they’d just go wandering around in people’s dreams in order to have decent conversations with people, free of prejudices. This did not help their reputation once people began to realize what was going on.

They’re a creative sort, who had a great passion for books and stories. They also enjoyed gardening, good food, and fine art. The village’s local bookseller was someone they commonly visited and who took a great liking to them, which they found charming.

The incident that tore most of their soul out of their body was caused by a young man from the village who received the Record of Sealing from a mysterious source, and decided to play hero with a friend of his by going up to the castle and getting them to trap themself in the book. This did not go according to plan.

Rather than the “evil” part of their soul getting stuck in the book, it was the passionate/emotional part of them, their “spark of life” so to speak. What remained of them, and what began to reincarnate down their bloodline, was a husk, scattered and forgetful and unable to feel or understand most emotion no matter how much they wanted to. Meanwhile, the bit of them in the book, their mischief and anger and feeling untempered by logic and reason, only grew more and more bitter over the course of their time sealed.

In verses where they’re reconstituted, Ajisai immediately asserts themself as an “auncle” figure for Sig and mentor to Klug, giving off the same mysterious energy as Ms. Accord and occasionally helping her teach.

It’s unclear how the two came to meet across worlds, but Ajisai does know Satan, and has a rather sour opinion of him--they went to one of his parties and he took an immediate dislike to them, and embarrassed them in front of the rest of his guests by challenging them to a Puyo match when they’d never played before. He was chewed out by another guest for about twenty minutes after this, but Ajisai still finds Satan pompous and tacky. Though they do have some inkling Satan has been through more than meets the eye, they’re insistent that it’s far past time for Satan to let whatever happened to him go and let himself genuinely enjoy the world he’s come to live in.

#puyo puyo #Anonymous

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

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Mount Everest Ain’t Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem!reader, Part 16.) - The Final Problem, Part 2.

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like a scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: Inspired by Formula and Nate Growing Up by Labrinth, composed for Euphoria's original soundtrack.

Warnings: PCP usage, sexual harassment, murder, non-depicted death, violence, gun usage

Word count: 2 K

Read the rest here, babe: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9 PART 10 PART 11 PART 12 PART 13 PART 14 PART 15

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Tagging: @charmed-asylum, @jeyramarie, @pantherxrogers, @analia-analia-analia

Before you do anything bad for the first time, there's that... Feeling. That sick feeling in your stomach which you can feel, but you can't name.

You know. That feeling before you push your cat with its tail. When you puke in your toilette the first time because you drank for the first time. Before you lit up your first cigarette. Before you take the first pill.

It's anticipation mixed with pure fear of the unknown. That's what it is.

And you never had that feeling before going to Fezco's. You never did - it was always the same neighborhood, same people around and your smiley face who opened up the door. But that night was not only freezing your ass.

That night was different. You could feel it in your bones. It was the car you didn't know in front of his door. You watched it with a frown. You didn't know that car.

Could it be another lady who was visiting your boyfriend? That's why he told you that he can't meet you that night under your window? Bullshit. Fezco wasn't capable of having such a big secret hidden away from you. His soul was too pure for that. But... Who was it then?

You didn't know what to do, so you only sat on your bike, watching his door with an open mouth. You felt like you should turn around on your bike, ride to Rue's and please Leslie if you can have a sleepover. No, you couldn't do that either. Your temple was bleeding and Leslie would ask.

You couldn't tell on Fran to Leslie; she would tell your ma and the hell would start again for Fran.

Jules's house. Yeah. That was probably the right choice. Sneak through the back door to her room. She wouldn't be mad at all, you knew that.

But before you could make a move, you felt as your feet froze as the door to Fezco's apartment slowly opened up. It felt like knocking on hell’s door.

At the moment when your eyes made contact, yours and Fezco's, you could see immediate pain and fear. And you started to freeze down even more. He was shaking his head and mouthed breathless and voiceless 'no'. You didn't have any idea what should you do.

It was two men coming out of his apartment. One with tattoos all over his ugly face, the second one was young with something that could be barely called a beard. Your mind connected two dots immediately - it was the seller. Mouse, as Fez and Ash called him. And then Mouse's eyes fell directly on you, sitting on the bike in the middle of the fucking street without having anything to say or do.

Fez could see your temple bleeding, the blood slowly dropping on your cheeks and then the grey sweatshirt and he knew something must've happened to you - because otherwise, you would respect his wish to be alone. But that situation happening around was just fucked up. Ultimately.

"Oh, bro who dat?" - Mouse asked you with a smile. Jesus, that man was just disgusting when he threw a smile at you. You were not far away from puking at any given moment. But you didn't puke - your body was just still frozen down. - "Sweetcheeks. Girl, ya know 'em?" - He asked. Fez was just shaking his head harder at that moment.

But your body almost automatically nodded.

"Looks like I have to be 'ere longer for sweetcheeks, Fezzy." - He laughed and pointed at you. - "Came 'ere. We'll give yo somethin' warm to drink, right, boyos?" - Mouse laughed in a devilish matter.

“Nah. I'm... I'm good. Thank you, kind mister. I will just go home, I just needed to ask something. It can wait.” - You took a firm hold on your bike. Fezco knew that since Mouse has seen you, he won't let you go so easily. Mouse was a psycho when it came to young girls.

Fez still remembered how did Mouse act around with Rue, but he was seriously worried about this time. Because that was a seriously fucked up situation.

“Oh, sweetcheeks. Happiness can’t fuckin’ wait. Come ’ere, we will give yo some.” - He waved his hand at you, so you slowly walked to the door, locking your bike on the terrace.

Mouse had heard about you - he knew you were Fezco’s girlfriend and he even knew heard that sometimes, you help your boyfriend with delivery service. Nobody knew who told on you - but everybody seemed to be aware. Which was terrifying the fuck out of you.

When you entered the door, Mouse put his hand over you and the only thing you did against it was locking your gaze with Fezco. Your eyes were almost empty, terrified and dead.

“Can you... Um... Lend me something? I'm pretty cold.” - You asked Fezco and he looked at Mouse. It was an unsaid question. You needed that you need to ask as calmly as you could until you could cry in Fezco’s arms. Just as you did at your parent’s house when you find out about his source of money. Mouse agreed with a nod, smacking your ass and laughing out loud.

You froze for a second, but then you ran after Fezco into his room, behind some closed door.

“Yo need to be calm and do as I tell ya, ok?” - Fezco whispered and slowly put his rainbow sweatshirt onto your chest. - “I don't ask ya to. Ya need to listen to me. Or we’re all dead.”

“I didn't mean to...” - You took his cheek to your palm, but Fezco was too nervous to even look at you straight. He didn't want to kiss you when his stomach was about to puke. - “I didn't mean to fuck this up, but Fran pushed me on a fucking cabinet and I didn't know where else I should go. I fucking freaked out.”

“We’ll talk when da fucker is gone.” - Fezco answered and left you all alone. So you put his sweatshirt over your head. He was seriously mad at you - and you could tell that he’s scared. For you or of Mouse? You couldn't tell. But one thing was for sure.

His, Ashe’s and your lives fere threatened by that man in his living room.

When you slowly entered the room, they were in the living room - Fezco and Ash sat on the old sofa where you had first slept and Mouse and his friend were on the opposite one. They weren't talking - they were just watching each other and there was a strong tension in the air.

“I think yo can go now, Custer. Make some space for da youn’ sweetcheeks.” - Mouse smiled at his friend. The only thing you could contrate on was your raising heartbeat and dizziness spinning your head. You looked at Fezco, but he was too occupied watching Custer. - “I think that da little one should go too, Fez. Let adults have some fun, am I right?” - He sat up and lit up a cigarette, offering you one as well. You carefully took one and let him lit up it as well since Fez didn't even look at you.

He was all sweaty as his blue eyes watched Custer standing up. Ash looked at Fez with a frown, but Fez nodded and Ash left - he knew where should he hide and wait if the shit goes down. But Custer had left the flat completely and only three of you were sitting in the living room.

Fezco was sweating the living hell out of him at that point, looking at you. Mouse basically let you sit halfway on the couch and halfway on his lap. You were ready to throw up any minute. As you smoked slowly, you closed your eyes and wished for it to end.

Your boyfriend’s eyes didn't leave Mouse’s hand smoothing your upper thigh up and down, teasing him to snap. But you two knew really well how to act cool when the shit around you was going down.

“How do ya do dat, hm?” - Mouse asked Fez and smelled the right side of your neck.

“Do what?” - Fezco answered back, playing with his knuckles nervously.

“Ya have such nice chicks around. Youn’, beautiful play toys. First dat girl with messy hair, now sweetcheeks... How?” - Mouse laid back, leaving his palm on your upper thigh, marking you as his property. That was riding Fezco wild.

“They are a family. Not toys.” - Fezco mumbled. The blood was boiling inside of him, but your eye contact was telling him that he has to stay calm. That you love him and that you trust him with everything you have.

“Tell whatever ya want.” - Mouse chuckled wickedly and searched his pockets. - “I promised you happiness, didn't I?” - He told when you looked at the small plastic bag in his hand. Oh, you did know what it was - the drugs Fezco sometimes bought when you were over at his place. Those hallucinogens.

“I think I'm good. Thank you.” - You smiled politely and tapped the cigarette out. But no wasn't an answer for Mouse. He caught your upper arms tightly, his grip was hurting you so much that you almost started to cry.

“I think yo want to enjoy a bit, sweetcheeks. Yo boyfriend won't let ya?” - Mouse looked at Fezco and slowly leaned to your ear. You closed your eyes firmly and prayed for him letting you go. You didn't want any of it. Then you slowly opened up your eyes and Fezco wasn't even breathing at the moment. You haven't any idea of what you should do next.

So you took it.

And it was the biggest mistake you have ever done in your life.

It was extremely fast as you slipped down to the world of fuckery, that shit was too strong for a non-addict. And both Mouse and Fezco knew it. But at that moment, Fez failed with protecting you. Your mood wasn't good - so the trip could be barely good either.

You saw some scary bullshit just after a few minutes, you got up, held your head, cried and tried to run away. Huge spiders were coming after you, the floor was slippery under your feet and it was cracking, falling apart. You cried and begged Fezco to help, not having a single idea of what is happening.

A sharp sound muttered your cries as you watched a dead body falling next to you. You saw as the blood was slowly dripping onto the carpet below it and screamed because you felt as your body is slowly being covered in that hot, weird something.

Somebody tried to catch you, to stop you, but you cried out loudly and gripped the door, running away into the freezing night. Somebody was calling out your name, but you heard as if you were under the surface of the water. And you didn't stop until you knew that Mouse is not going to follow you there and until you couldn't hear it anymore.

Your drugged body slowly connected the two dots after a long night - somebody was shot at Fezco’s apartment. There was a fucking dead body. And you felt as your heart dropped, as you fell on your knees and cried even louder than before.

It was Fezco. Fezco was shot down. So you ran further and further away, at least you thought you that you are running even if you were crawling in the mud, slamming and slashing into the buildings, falling down on your knees.

You were running away from all of it - those crazy fucking spiders who after you, from the blood covering your hands, arms and legs, slowly drowning you down, you just ran.

But you were afraid that you won't be able to make it at all.

#rue bennett #rue euphoria #fezco #fezco euphoria #euphoria hbo #euphoria #fez euphoria #fezco x reader #fezco imagine #Mount Everest ain't got shit on us #the final problem part 2.#mouse euphoria #custer euphoria

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runaway-horses · 5 years ago

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Shelter Me (In Your Arms)

Ship: Logince

Warnings: Nightmares, panic attacks, PTSD, general trauma (Ro makes it better though.)

Word Count: 1,553

Tags: @pippippippin, @a-cure-for-sentience, @stormcrawler75, @princeyssash, @quoth-the-sparrow, @theresneverenoughfandoms, @red-eyes88 (If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know!)

A/N: It has been a Hot Minute since I lasted posted, damn. On the brightside, I haven’t posted anything because school is hard but I’m studying harder, and I’m also in the process of writing a novel. So I have reasons. This is set in the same AU as Wait For Me (I’m Coming) and is set seven or so months after that. I did promise more in this AU! I hope you enjoy.

~~~

It is dark in the bed chamber.

It shouldn't be dark, Logan realizes, and he tries to swallow the panic that rises in his chest when he realizes that he can't see anything. In the months since his return, Roman has left a candle burning in their room every night, never once complaining about having his rest disturbed by the light.

But the candle is out now, and there is nothing but inky darkness around him. Logan reaches out on the bed for Roman. He's sure he'll be able to fight this panic down in Roman's arms, but his hand meets cold sheets instead of a warm body.

Fear grips him, stronger than before.

"Roman?" He calls and hears his voice crack on the second syllable. There's no response and Logan strains his eyes in an attempt to discern something through the dark.

Logan feels his breath get stuck in his chest and ice fill his veins.

He tries to remember the rhythm of breath he used to guide Virgil through, but focus slips out of his hands like water. The terror of the unknown presses in around him- are they coming to take him? To hit him? To find new ways to apply pain and pull secrets from his bloodied lips? Did he ever even leave that cave?

The last thought made Logan whimper involuntarily, terror at going back to that hell seizing his muscles.

Through his turmoil, he heard the door creak.

He jerked his head up and saw a figure outlined in the doorway, illuminated by torchlight from the hallway. For one brief, shining moment, he thought it was Roman. But doubt creeped in as the figure continued to stand there. Roman would not linger like that, not when Logan was curled into a ball in the middle of their shared bed.

He scrambled away, his legs tangled in the blankets.

"No, no go away!"

The figure stepped forward, its presence looming larger. Logan flinched and tried to extricate himself from the blankets. The figure stepped closer to the bed and Logan wondered how he had thought this was Roman, this creature with its terrifying energy.

It leaned forward and a hand shot out to grip Logan's arm, nails digging into his skin. He struggled against it, adrenaline breaking through the fear.

"We've got you now, Clarke. You're not getting away from us this time."

The voice of the person who had taunted him as they whipped his back echoed in the room. Logan could feel phantom pain on his back, the skin tearing open, and his heart thudded to a stop in his chest as he realized that he would have to relieve the horror again.

Logan screamed.

~~~

Logan jerked upright in bed, a scream burning his throat as he scrambled out of bed and hit the floor. There was noise all around him, and it took him a moment to realize that he was the source of it. He clamped a hand over his mouth and sobbed. His face was wet with tears, and through his trembling a faint note of relief struck his mind. It was just a dream. He pulled his knees to his chest and shook, drawing in gasping breaths.

“Logan?”

A voice in front of him. Concern laced in it.

“Logan, can you hear me? You’re okay, dearest, I’m here, it was just a dream. You’re safe.”

Roman.

Logan opened his eyes and was met with the sight of his lover kneeled in front of him, hands at his sides, concern written in every line of his face. Candle-light flickered across his features and the knot in Logan’s chest loosened in the warm glow. His surroundings were coming back into focus and careful scan of the room confirmed that they were alone. It was just Roman and himself.

“Lo? Please, you’re scaring me. Can I touch you?”

Logan’s gaze darted back to Roman and he tried to fight back the fear clouding his mind. Roman has asked him a question. He needed to answer. The words were stuck in his throat. He registered that he was shaking and felt shame prickle at his skin that Roman was seeing him so completely undone.

Roman seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and he learned forward, taking Logan's hands in his own. He rubbed circles with his thumbs and held tight.

"I have you, love. Breathe with me, okay?"

He took an exaggerated breath in, blowing it out slowly. Logan tried to copy, but the task seemed monumentally difficult. He still felt exposed, as if someone could grab him and tear him away from Roman and back to that dark cave. Roman repeated the breath again and again, Logan failed. He was painfully aware of the space around him.

Roman squeezed his hands and momentarily held Logan's attention. There was rapidly growing concern in his eyes and Logan's heart ached that he was disappointing him.

"How can I help you, Logan? What do you need?"

What did he need?

He needed to feel safe. Like the world wasn't about to tumble down around him. He needed Roman to hold him.

Roman's arms were safety and love and warmth. Even before they had admitted mutual affection for each other, Logan had admired Roman's arms. They were tan and well muscled from hours spent training out in the sun. And then, in the months and eventual years after they had started courting, Roman's arms had taken on a new meaning for Logan. They were home.

He felt like he was shaking out of his skin and he scrambled forward into Roman's chest.

Roman wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. The warm bands of muscle held Logan together as he shook apart in Roman's arms, finally able to close his eyes and not feel the all encompassing terror of darkness. He could feel Roman's heartbeat from where he was pressed against him, and the steady rhythm helped him control his breath.

"I got you, love. It's okay, you're okay."

Roman smelled like parchment and sleep. Logan breathed deep as the last of his shakes faded away.

"Do you want to get back in bed?" Roman asked. His breath ghosted across Logan's ear and made him shiver. Logan nodded his affirmation and Roman scooped him up before depositing him on the bed. He kept his eyes open and watched Roman walk around the bed before he got in himself. Roman’s arms were back around him then, and Logan relaxed into the touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asked, voice low and rumbling in his chest.

Logan licked his dry lips and fought the urge to break eye contact.

“I dreamt that the lights were out.” He begins, hesitant. He doesn’t usually talk about his dreams. “I was scared, and you were gone. And then there was this...figure...in the doorway, and I thought it was you but it wasn’t, it was them, and they told me that I was going to go back to that cave, that I’d never actually escape them...and then I woke up.” Logan didn’t realize that he was crying until a warm palm cupped his cheek and Roman’s thumb swiped away some of the tears. He leaned into the comfort, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re safe, my love. I won’t let anything happen to you, and I’d never leave you.” Roman pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead and his free hand traveled over Logan’s shoulder and down onto his back, fingers tracing the scars there. Logan shifted away from the touch and Roman frowned, sitting up slightly.

“Do they hurt, Logan?” His tone was worried and Logan shook his head.

“No, they do not pain me. I just don’t like them. They’re ugly.”

Pain flashed over Roman’s face before disappearing.

“Logan, dearheart, nothing about you is ugly. These scars are marks of bravery higher than any medal I could give you. And more importantly, they’re part of you. I love you, trauma and all, scars and all.” And before Logan was even halfway through processing those words and the subsequent emotions that came with them, Roman was sitting up and rolling him onto his stomach.

“Clearly,” -His voice came from above Logan, with a smile Logan could hear, if not see- “I haven’t done a good enough job of showing you how beautiful you are.” And then lips were pressing against the sin of Logan’s shoulder, at the very top of one of the longer scars. Logan shivered from head to toe and didn’t protest as Roman’s lips traced the disfigured flesh from the top of his shoulder, down to the small of his back.

Logan couldn’t say how much time had passed since Roman first kissed him, but his limbs had melted into the bed and tears were wetting the pillow as Roman touched his lips to Logan’s other shoulder in one last, reverent kiss.

No words were said as he rolled over and buried his head in Roman’s chest, Roman’s fingers finding their way to his hair. Logan’s heart ached with love, and sometimes he wondered if there was no limit to the love he felt for Roman. Somehow the thought didn’t frighten him.

He fell asleep easily, Roman’s arms still around him.

He was home.

#love athena #athena writes #hurt/comfort #nightmares #logince

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nomattertheoceans · 5 years ago

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There have been so many new people following me this last month omg

Thank you so much to everybody, I’m so so happy you stumbled upon my blog and decided to stay!!!!!

Since I think most of you followed me for my Feysand fics, I thought I would make this post to let you know a few general things about me and my blog :)

I’m French, so my English isn’t always great. I’m 25, and I live in South America, so I’m not on the European time zone, I’m closer to the US time zone (GMT -5). You can always come talk to me, about anything, in my DM’s or in my ask box, anon is always on.

Things I blog about, mostly:

- Sarah J Maas, mainly her ACOTAR series. I ship Feysand (I think this is obvious from my fics hahaha), I do not ship either Elriel nor Elucien, and I don’t really have strong opinion on Nesian. I want Mor to find the love of her life really soon, and I want Azriel to stop feeling entitled to her affection. I also wish Nesta going to the Mountains won’t turn her into a warrior because I want her to read books and drink tea all day long. Although, I’m really critical of the sisters’ general behaviour so I’m not always positive about them.

- Leigh Bardugo, mainly the books from the Grishaverse. I would die for Kanej and Zoyalai. I have many, many feelings about them and can’t wait for King of Scars 2 because I can’t wait to have my heart destroyed. I think Alarkling is an abusive ship and I do blog about that, I also think the Darkling is just an entitled abuser and I hate him. So... yeah no Darkling love here ^^’

- Brooklyn 99, mostly Peraltiago but really the entire show is gold and I blog about it often. Often without tags so... sorry x) If you ask me to tag it I will try to be better :)

- His Dark Materials, the show AND the books. If you haven’t read the books, but are watching the show, my blog isn’t safe because I am talking about the books a lot!!!!! BUT everything that relates to the books is tagged #hdm books so you can avoid spoilers in my blog if you filter this tag. ALSO these books are a personal obsession, and my favorite book series, since I was nine so I.... have a lot of feelings. About a lot of things.

- Harry Potter. I hate Snape with a passion, I can rage about him for hours on end, and I do share anti Snape stuff. I also hate Dumbledore for forcing Harry to leave with his abusive family for 17 years. I ship Hinny and Romione, I LOVE Ron and I will defend him from the haters always, I identify 2000% with Hermione, and Ginny is my favorite character. Harry is bisexual and no you cannot change my mind. I do not consider The-Play-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to be canon, and I have very mixed feelings about the Fantastic Beasts series. I also have a very love/hate relationship with JK Rowling because I love what she created but she doesn’t seem to understand her characters, she doesn’t seem to care anymore, plus she’s a TERF and probably a homophobe so yeah... I hate her and I talk about it.

- Random stuff: A LOOOOOT of it!! Stupid jokes, cute photos of animal, art that I like, movies, books, TV series I like,..... Sorry my blog is not well maintained hahaha

- Other people’s fanfic: Okay so I have a job that takes up most of my time and energy. So I have very little spare time to read and write, and most of the time, I chose to write. Which means I am very bad at keeping track of what’s happening around me in the fanfic universe. BUT I am always willing to check out someone’s writing!!!! I might not do it right away because of lack of time but I would love it :) I’m really bad at recommendations though because I have so little time hahaha

The things I write

Here’s my masterlist :) You can also read all of it on AO3 !

- Original story: I don’t blog much about it, but I’m developping an original story that is basically sci-fi/apocalyptic. I looooove it and I am always open to answer things about it!!!! I might try to share more about it in the time to come ^^

- Non-Feysand fics. I don’t write a lot of these hahahaha but I do sometimes write some Peraltiago, some Kanej, and I have a few Jily/Wolfstar/Marauders projects, but I don’t think I will post them any time soon.

- Feysand fics. aka most of what I write hahahaha I love them and their relationship is an endless source of inspiration for me. Here are details of what’s happening right now, and what’s coming hopefully soon.

Current projects:

Feysand Holiday Fluff Fest: The reason I think most of you are following me ^^ A series of fluff prompts I’m writing for this month, it’s really fun for me because I have a tendency of writing very long stories and it’s a fresh feeling stopping at one-shots.

If you hold me close: It’s a modern fake dating AU, Feyre doesn’t want to go alone to her sister’s wedding and invites Rhys, but then they end up faking being in a relationship. I was thinking I would tag everyone who asked me to be in the tag list for the holiday fluff, but you can always ask me to untag you, I will not take it personnally I swear!!! Your personal experience is what matters :)

Staying Afloat: My baby, I love this fic so much it’s impossible to explain how much I do. I want everyone to love it and tell me what they think. This fic tackles some tough subjects though, mainly domestic abuse (Feyre is dating Tamlin for a good part of it). It’s also very angsty, and a very long slowburn hahahaha @tonystarksbish is my amazing beta reader and general main supporter, she’s honestly the reason I write that many things now. Go check her writing blog ( @somanyshipsss )

Future projects:

A Feysand college AU, mostly written from Rhysand’s point of view. I’m planning for it to be around 15 chapters, maybe? But it might get longer hahahaha

Some one-shots, some canon campliant, some in modern AUs, but all of them being published at an unknown date, depending on when inspiration strikes hahahaha

A project that is basically dumb and silly and that I started TODAY with @quakeriders (if you don’t know what she writes, go to her blog right now), we might post it and tell you more but basically Rhys is canon!Rhys and Feyre is a dumbass human from modern time who’s chilling around in a Stitch onesie. It’s really silly but we LOVE it!!!!! I can’t wait to share it with you guys it’s gonna be so fun ^^ (But not before the end of the month at least!)

Completed projects:

I made you a promise, it’s basically a mostly fluff modern AU, Feyre and Rhys meet at a bar and start dating! It’s been complete for a while now but sometimes I still post random headcanons or short or less short snippets of the story, generally according to request from people (well, from @quakeriders really hahaha) so you can send me requests if you want extensions or headcanons!!

I am ALWAYS open to prompts!!!!!!!! I love them and I will love you if you send me some. BUT I might not answer right away because inspiration is a bitch hahaha

Anyway, I think that’s it, I hope you all are having a great day, and I love you all so much for liking what I write, you bring me so much joy that I could hug all of you and it still wouldn’t be enough ^^

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dnawield--a · 5 years ago

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003. PARENTAL SKILLS

I’ve discussed on other platforms like D/iscord and my own tag ramblings, but I’ve got a mix of the original B/en 10,000 episode, the original AU episode of K/en 10, as well as O/mniverse’s end game for Ben, with my own personal touches on it.

For starters, and to make this clear: my Ben is a trans man, and Kai is a trans woman. This is only in my canon, but this is how my Ben’s future goes. He and Kai meet up during his decade long isolation after he kills V/ilgax when he’s 20 (about to be 21). They find each other again after Ben has finished taking care of a bad guy, and it’s just pure luck that he even bothers talking to her.

I’d also like to preface: these two are a bad match. Ben’s an asshole to her in a lot of aspects, and doesn’t do much in the aspect of comforting. Yeah, he’s not good at comforting people in general, but he’s constantly making comments about how they’re supposed to be together in the future DESPITE Kai’s obvious discomfort with that.

Kai doesn’t fucking like Ben as Ben; she thinks his aliens are cool, and has an affinity for one of his aliens: Wo/lfblitzer. She’s rude back to him, and at times, just rude for the sake of being rude even after he’s helped her with something. They’re just NOT a good match at all. Kai’s a bit more of a dick, but I hate the people who just outright say Kai is the ONLY shitty one in their forced shitty romance in OV. It’s bad for both, they’re both really toxic to each other, and while they had their moments where they were KINDA cute, it was brief. It’s very reminiscent of the shitty 90s romance; y’know when they’re both pricks to each other but apparently that’s charming and not an obvious red flag that these relationships tend to end in bad break ups, divorces, or separation, but WHATEVER. Glamorize a shitty time period of shitty romance in a 2010s cartoon I GUESS.

But back to shitty parenting:

So yeah, that’s the night that Gwendolyn and Kenny are conceived. Ben hasn’t been doing HRT because he just can’t keep track of how long it’s been, and at this point, he’s already had top surgery. He’s always in alien mode so he doesn’t notice when he’s on his period, but he DOES start to notice that his aliens are not as efficient, and eventually he’s putting two and two together.

He waits out having to go back to his home about 7 months in. He’s in constant alien mode, switching to ones that are holding out better during pregnancy until he’s just unable to do anything about it and his aliens’ forms are suffering from it. He would’ve gotten an abortion, but two reason why he didn’t were: he KNOWS he’s supposed to have kids, he just didn’t think it’d be HIM having them, so he’s just going “I hate! This!” and also because he doesn’t trust anyone to do an abortion, and he doubts Azmuth would do that for him. So when he does go back and calls up Kai about it, she actually decides to come back and they DO make plans on how to work with this.

Low and behold, the twins are born when Ben is at the crisp age of 26, and while Ben’s kinda quiet, everyone puts it down that this is stressful ‘cause childbirth is just stressful in general, AND this has to be fucking with him and causing serious dysphoria, so most just leave him alone for the time being. Kai and him do talk about what to name the kids ‘cause they really didn’t think, and Ben just says to name them after his cousins. There’s a subconscious ‘yeah my cousins mean a lot to me’ but ALSO because he just didn’t have any ideas ‘cause he was already thinking about when he was leaving.

Kai was alright with that, though she did say she was gonna do middle names, so Kenny’s middle name is Tsela ( which means resembling a star / stars lying own ) and Gwendolyn’s middle name is Ooljee ( which means moon ). Ben thought they were fine, though in two weeks, it didn’t matter what his opinion was because the doctors came to check in on him to find his bed empty.

He was only in the hospital for so long because they noticed a lot of untreated issues with his health, and the twins’ birth was extremely premature ( his mom’s side of the family tend to have issues with their kids being born too fucking early ), and with the lack of nutrients Ben had his his body plus still super heroing for a majority of the pregnancy, the kids were also in intensive care ‘cause by all means, it’s a miracle those kids aren’t dead.

Everyone tries to get a hold of him, but as per normal, he’s not easy to get a track on. They do find news of where he is via online news outlets. Kai is rightfully pissed, but she does her damn best for the first four to five years, she’s raising them practically alone. Ben doesn’t call on their birthdays. He doesn’t even call to check up on her. For the first two years, she does find money mysteriously in her bank accounts from an “unknown” source, but she knows that’s Ben’s pretty shitty way of supporting his kids. After the third year, and not wanting him to have any say in what he gets from this, she sends a message that goes unanswered directly about wanting him to fuck off. If he’s not gonna be there, she doesn’t want to see money from him.

He does that and stops sending money. She’s still mad about that because wow, not even gonna TRY to maybe argue about it? But she raises them on her own, with her own money. They don’t live nearly as luxuriously as they should be given their father is Ben 10,000, but they get by. Gwendolyn is fine with that as she holds the most resentment about her father not being in her life, but Kenny constantly tries to get into communication with his dad. His mom finds him trying to go out on his own to find his dad because of a lead, and Ben 10,000 doesn’t make any communication until AFTER the original Ben 10,000 episode of the OS happens.

It’s a slow progress, and still takes a good three months ( he is like 31 at this point ), but he gives Kai a call. Naturally, she hangs up the second he says its him. He ends up finally just going to her home, and they have a fight. More so, Kai is rightfully telling him he has a lot of nerve coming back after leaving her to care for them by herself. She mentions the money was a bull shit way to be a father.

And he takes it at face value. He does beg her to let him TRY, but she’s not having it. Ben does bring up some lawyers, and while Kai is pissed about the entire situation, she is happy that in the end, she gets to keep custody, BUT if they kids WANT to see their father, they have every right too. Gwendolyn pretty much only calls Ben by his name, and refuses to call her dad. Definitely hurts Ben, but he gets it.

Kenny, on the other hand, is obsessed with visiting his dad, and for a while, he has a rough patch with his mom because his dad is finally back, and he doesn’t understand WHY she gets so angry he wants to get to know his dad? His dad is the hero of heroes! His dad is a good guy! He fights evil doers and stops them from causing bad things to happen in the world! If anything, SHE should stop being so mad about it. Kai genuinely gets hurt hearing this, and Gwendolyn and Kenny do have a rocky relationship because of their very different views on their father.

Eventually, for their 10th birthday, Kai allows Ben to visit for their party, and promises NOT to give him the stink eye the entire time ( just some of the time ). Ben tends to get along more with Kenny, and sort of avoids Gwendolyn because he just doesn’t know how to make it up to her.

None of his relationships with his kids really get better until his kids are nearing their 20s and they can all actually talk to each other like adults. Gwendolyn definitely calls him out on everything, and even gets pissed if in that verse he has kids with another partner and probably cries about why THEY weren’t good enough. Kenny tells his dad it’s pretty fucked up he’s idolized his dad and that his dad didn’t deserve any of his idolization.

They eventually get onto good terms, but regardless, the three of them know that Kai will be their favorite parent, and that they just don’t see him as their dad. He’s fine with that in the sense of he knows they have every right to feel like that. At the very least, they get along, and they DO eventually just all hang out. Ben and Kai sometimes talk with each other, but usually it’s been Kai telling him he should’ve gotten help. Maybe then he wouldn’t have fucked up so much as a father. He agrees, but he just tells her every time it’s too late to get mad about that again. She can stay mad. He knows his first shot at being a dad was awful, and he’s just grateful that she got used to him seeing the kids once in a while when he finally came to.

Even if he ever has kids with a partner that isn’t Kai, he’s sort of detached to his kids. Not to the degree of abandoning them, but he’s definitely the parent that the kid thinks hates them until they have their sitcom, “No I love you. I just don’t know how to be a good parent. I want to be, but I don’t know how” moment.

#hc. \ ɪ·ʟʟ sʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍʏ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀs #long post*#child abandonment*#pregnancy*#toxic relationship mention*#dysphoria mention*

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aneverlandboi · 5 years ago

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Once again, the wonderful @spiderman-homecomeme tagged me.

Author Name: irishpadfoot, although I started considering changing it as soon as I actually started posting fics (aka once I kind of couldn’t change it without confusing people)

Fandom You Write For: That I write for or, like, publish for? The only things I’ve published are MCU/Spiderman, but I’ve got a lot of in-progress fics in different fandoms: Spider-Man, Miraculous, Percy Jackson, Star Wars (mainly Clone Wars era), the Spellslinger Series (a criminally unknown series), my Peter Pan retelling, and I guess Peter Pan as a whole. I’d say Dragon Age (mainly Inquisition), but I’ve only got one crossover with one character involved, so idk if that counts. I’m also working on some original fiction but I have no plot, no characters, and no real world. My planning is going perfectly, as you can tell.

Where You Post: ArchiveOfOurOwn mostly, although I’ve posted some one-shots and chapter announcements on Tumblr. I vaguely remember posting a chapter of a fic on ff.net, but that was years ago and it was under a different pseudonym and no one will ever find it! (Thank God!)

Most Popular One-Shot: According to AO3, My Favourite Destination On The Trip, aka the Paris confession we were robbed of!

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: Presumably, my only multi-chapter fic - The New Parker Luck or, The Plan Goes Right (Kind Of)

Favorite Story You Wrote: Probably My Favourite Destination On The Trip, because I was really hoping for a romantic confession on the Eifel Tower in the film.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: My first fic, Delayed, which I posted on Tumblr after being delayed for a flight (shocker, I know!), with practically zero editing or beta-testing. Also The New Parker Luck or, The Plan Goes Right (Kind Of), because it was my first multi-chapter story. Also most of them.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: Most of the titles for my fics and chapters are (sometimes modified) quotes from the original source (like ‘The New Parker Luck’, which is based off ‘The ol’ Parker Luck’ from the comics), or general one-word summaries of the chapter (like ‘Delayed’). Also, because I’m just that clichéd, song titles and lyrics.

How Many of Your Stories Are: Oh no

Complete: Uh, 3 1-shots (although I’m planning on turning one into a short series!), and 1 multi-chap

In-Progress: Like, three one-shots to go into a series with My Favourite Destination On The Trip. Also something (either just a one-shot, two-shot, or AU) based off the idea of Peter doing ballet. (There was this one gorgeous piece of art that inspired me, and I can’t find it for the life of me.)

Coming Soon: Oh god, too many. Wayyyy too many. I start fics as soon as I get hit by any inspiration, but never build on them, so I just have tons of scribbles. Like, ten multi-chap fics? Although ‘scribbles’ can mean, like, one scene and a vague idea, or even just a list of quotes from it. Practically? Like, four. Oh God, I forgot a ton, so I’ll just list them all. I have a Percy Jackson/Spellslinger(/DA:I?) crossover that might end up retelling the book series. I have a HTTYD retelling with Atreus from God of War. I also started a Frozen retelling with Atreus, but since I haven’t actually watched beyond the first five minutes of Frozen, that probably won’t work. I have some Spider-Man fics in the works. I have exactly two scenes of an Avatar TLA crossover. I have a Miraculous fic/crossover with one character who is heavily based off a character from another series, and I had inspiration for a His Dark Materials AU, but no idea for a plot or anything. I have two Spellslinger fics (one of which is my attempt at writing an upcoming prequel book before it comes out). Two original fictions, which have 0 planning. My Clone Wars/Force Unleashed crossover, which might end up retelling all of the episodes with an extra character or two (and hopefully end up changing things dramatically). I also have a... AU based on the fic, where things don’t change and follow canon (so, not really an AU?), which I have, like, three scenes from, but I know nothing about Star Wars: Rebels, so that will take a while. And then I have my modern Peter Pan retelling with what feels like my first truly original OCs, four major AUs, and, like, 18 one-shots based on either the retelling or the AUs.

Upcoming Story You’re Most Excited to Write: I’m trying to write more on my Peter Pan retelling which I kind of got distracted writing AUs and one-shots based off, but I need to publish the main story before I can publish my AUs and one-shots because of the characters. But I can’t finish the main story because I keep getting distracted writing AUs and one-shots. Do you see my problem??

Do You Accept Prompts: Yes, please, God, because I just need more distractions from my main stories, obviously although I’m terrible at being inspired, so it might take ages.

It turns out I do way too much retelling, and love giving myself absolutely massive challenges like rewrite a book series, or novelise and rewrite a tv show, or do all of these things at the same time while planning your future and doing uni work. Am I mentally stable? No. But am I productive? Also no. But do I feel good about my writing? Also no. Actually that’s not true, because incredible people like @spiderman-homecomeme, @spideyfic, and @bbyangst are absolutely wonderful and remind me I’m not an idiot (or that I am, but so is everyone else, so it doesn’t matter), and there’s this one absolutely amazing commenter on AO3 who single-handedly got me out of a depressive slump over my writing, and is... like, bizarrely kind and complimentary?

I have no idea who to tag, so if you read this and you write, feel free to consider yourself tagged!

#not fanfic #but about fanfic #I'm officially a fanfic writer I think #oh god oh god I have so many fanfics to write #I'm an absolute idiot why do I do this?#Oh wait #I have symptoms syndrome

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thecharmingknightemma · 5 years ago

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rules

Hello everyone! I'm sorry if this is long but it's necessary so that you can jump straight into writing with me even if Emma is nearly an oc or a stranger to your muses - and because I'm not English and want to be sure it's all clear. I've been writing for eight years and I'm known to be chill and accommodating but I am also extremely aware of what my preferences and comfort zones are so please read the rules.

My name is Ele, I'm 31, cis woman, super friendly, slow because chronically ill especially when it comes to ooc chat which require too much energy and focus from me, so while I love plotting and commenting threads don't expect ooc chats to be a priority if they aren't fully about the threads. This blog has sideblogs: 'monsterinamusicbox', sosadandyetsoamazing, musesonawhim, and more might come.

This is an AU Blog so you don't really need to have seen OUAT because this is NOT canon Emma Swan, there is no Storybrooke, and the princess Emma who remembers what was meant to happen in OUAT will let you know everything that you missed; so you'll need to read Emma's bio, either her AU enchanted forest backstory OR the backstory from our world which can fit Marvel, DC and other shows, depending on which character you play (it's awkward to realize the other person has no idea of what I'm writing, like I said, this won't be Emma Swan even in our world, she's been raised by her parents).

There is another backstory for non Enchanted Forest crossovers that doesn't have an abusive ex in it, check it out if the original one is triggering for you. You can request it, no explanation needed.

update of July 26: due to my health and lack of time I can't try to plot with every single mutual even if I follow first, so I ask you to please give me a sign you read my pages and would like to rp. Either by liking my many plotting calls, sending me a meme, liking starter calls, anything will do. Often when I try to plot people haven't read my pages yet or don't reply, and it's a lost occasion to plot with people who are ready. Thank you for your understanding.

WHO I RP WITH

I’m mutuals only and selective. If I don't follow you and you try to rp I'll ignore you, because I get anxious about saying no. If curious you can find reasons why I didn't follow you back here. Memes and opens have no expiration date. Untagged nsfw = I unfollow. Some shows I prefer not to interact with because I don't know them or aren't into some of their themes: vampire diaries, teen wolf, riverdale, gossip girls and any zombie/demons show outside of IZombie, Lucifer and Buffy/Angel.

Between asterisks it's what only people who write ouat characters need to read, the rest is for everyone:

**If your character is involved in her backstory, you have every right to discuss details with me so you won't feel godmodded/forced to adapt to it! I will also change things connected to your ch, for example if I write with a Jefferson, Emma's bff will be Ariel and not Grace. I'd rather not interact with ocs that are supposed to be her siblings or children etc. Henry was never born so if you play Henry we should plot it out because my Emma can’t be pregnant as a kid or she will be a completely different character.**

In this blog due to backstory issues she would want Regina dead so I prefer NOT to interact nor come up with new aus in which she’s fine with it (I have 2 plotted exceptions and that’s enough for me), and same goes for people who are currently villains from any fandom, though in that case we can plot out exceptions in which they aren’t being villains; if they are a grey-area, aren't people who hurt her family, and if you are pro-redemption it's fine, if not Emma wouldn't submit to anyone or bother to chat, she will try to kill them or die, so no threads are really doable. She's also not the type to hang out/bother with characters who are rude to her or to insist if they want her to leave, or to support who keeps manipulating her, hurting people or doesn't seem to be helped by her presence at all but keeps coming to her with pain to share (the latter would get a therapist card). Basically: Killian Jones the way he was written in the show, or even a Rumplestiltskin who found Belle and chose to do better and so on are fine. Villains who will mistreat Emma, have hurt her family, or are currently hunting children for sport? Not good for Emma.

TRIGGERS AND WHAT I WON’T WRITE

Triggers will be tagged ‘name of the trigger tw’, you can always ask me to tag more AND tell me if something in her backstory makes you uncomfortable, so that I can find a solution (that issue is resolved/doesn't need to be mentioned) or tell you if it can't be skipped and you can choose not to write with me. I don’t write about miscarriage, toxic/abusive relationships and rape between my character and yours (temporarily evil due to magic/Dark One Emma being manipulative is fine, but rape is still a no). It’s not exactly a trigger but please tag your gore and body horror? The topic of hell is also complicate, I need you not to focus too much on torture and eternal damnation. And please, PLEASE, tag your daddy kink/mommy kink references ic and ooc.

MEMES

I’d rather get asks when you want to start a thread, reblog all the memes you want from me. I will reblog from the source or send you one if you prefer it that way but I don’t care if you reblog them from me.

ACTIVITY

Sometimes I'm fast, some I'm slow, but you can have as many threads with me as you want, take your time, reply as much as you want as long as you give me enough to write, drop threads, send memes or not. I like icons but I don't need them to write, you can stop using them whenever.

NSFW and relationships

NSFW of the smut kind will be tagged as such and usually put under read more. I don’t write smut with everyone, only with people I know ooc/feel comfortable writing it with. I love shipping but I DON'T FORCESHIP, FRIENDSHIPS ARE WELCOMED. My Emma is straight. I do not romantically ship her with Neal/Baelfire even in aus, in her dark witch verse he's a past love Emma Swan had. Happy to find out if a relationship works between my Emma and Killian (my nearly automatic otp if you don't write him darker than in canon), the Huntsman, AU Pinocchio, Jefferson, and more if there is chemistry, but friendship is open to any of them too. Here for crossover ships as well. I’d really appreciate if you could tag your Swan Queen and Swan Thief, thank you.

OTHER FANDOMS I LIKE

Due to potential aus or crossovers, as in princess Emma showing up through a portal or me writing aus to adapt to your fandom, I want to bring up that some of the shows and movies I know are/what she can be in them with small changes to her regular backstory:

AOS (she can easily be inhuman or an alien),

Avengers movies (and at least Thor, Cap, Iron Man and Hulk’s movies), Ant-Man, Captain Marvel (same as above),

the 100 (she’s too happy to be anything but someone who comes from an unknown village or comes from one of the unknown worlds),

Chuck (she can be an ordinary human being, enhanced person/semi-alien depending on who rps the Chuck characters),

Elementary (she can be a regular human or whatever you want)

Flash (she can be a metahuman),

Guardians of the Galaxy (Same as for Marvel),

Legends of Tomorrow (human, alien, metahuman),

Doctor Who (she can be anything),

Firefly: she can be anything (I can also shake things up with her being an alien/having powers OR by coming from the planet where fairy tales are real).

Galavant (same universe as the Enchanted Forest),

Supergirl (she can be an ordinary human or alien),

IZombie (human or zombie),

Lost (she can be anything anything)

Buffy and Angel but only the tvshows (human, witch, one of the many new slayers),

Timeless (human unless the other rper prefers a crossover),

Lord of the Rings (probably just princess Emma portal jumping?)

pretty much any famous sitcom like Friends, the Office, Parks and Rec, b99 (likely she can only be human unless asked otherwise).

Also Lucifer and Good Omens (she could be an ordinary human or it’s more of a crossover in which she comes from her own universe and has magic), and more I can’t think of right now.

#rules page

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