#the drabble saga

[all54321]

The Return of the Desert

[AO3]

Had to write something for this as well. I am going crazy over it. The first time a desert is in the series is the time when Scar and Grian ride their on a camel together?? The whole monopoly thing. I am going insane over them.

—————

Grian pauses at the edge of the desert, looking around it. There’s only a small bit of it that reaches past the border, but it’s enough for the memories to hit him hard.

He swallows, trying not to let the final memories return, and slowly walks further into it. Riding with Scar on that camel is different, but it’s an echo of how things were before.

“Been a while since we’ve been in a desert,” Grian murmurs, not looking back at Scar.

Scar makes a quiet noise, “I- I suppose it has, huh?”

Grian’s not sure what comes over him as he starts gathering the cacti around the small area. It feels almost like an instinct. He doesn’t reply, unsure what else to say in the moment.

Scar gasps suddenly and runs past him, to the final remaining cactus, “You’re not getting the monopoly!”

Grian blinks in surprise, caught off guard, although maybe he should have realized that is basically what he’s doing, collecting all of the cacti on the server.

Just as quickly as Scar had gathered it, he approaches Grian and hands it over, “Here, you can have a monopoly.”

He gasps quietly, the implication of the action clear, of what Scar giving him for control means. “A monopoly on cactus?” he murmurs, startled and unsure what else to say.

It’s so much like 3rd Life that Grian is terrified what it means, because while some of his best memories from these games are of their time alone in that desert, the way it ended is a brand to his mind.

Standing in a desert all alone with Scar again is forcing all those memories to play on loop. If he lets things continue this way, will it all end the same way? Grian isn’t sure if he can handle that.

He startles when he sees others approaching from the forest, he’s not sure if he’s grateful for the distraction or not.

[randomfandomworks]

“I look into your eyes and I think back to the son of mine, you’re as old as he was when I left for war…”

Odysseus can’t help but smile as he gazes down to the baby boy cradled in his arms.

He’d spent years trying to get home, trying to see his family again. It had never occurred to him that his family may have grown in his absence.

His son, his boy, Telemachus, had grown into a wonderful man. More than that, a wonderful husband and father.

Odysseus had learned quickly about you, his sons betrothed, as he settled in back home.

He watched as his son reminded him of himself, hopelessly in love and devoted to his wife. A proud feeling swelling in his chest as he reminisced and caught the softness of his son's eyes on you.

His pride only grows as he watches his son become a father. A little baby boy that reminds Odysseus so much of the one he left behind all those years ago.

Odysseus watches his son hold his own boy, watches as he shares his immeasurable joy with you, listens as Penelope tells their grandson stories, and imagines what it must have been like after he’d gone.

Baby Telemachus being rocked to sleep with stories of adventures filling his head, growing and only knowing his father as myth, finding you and falling deeply into love just as his father before him had.

Now Odysseus’s grandson rests in the nursery where his son once laid. Now a grandfather, Odysseus rocks the boy to sleep the same way he had so few times with his own son.

And as he lays him in his crib to rest he’s grateful to not miss this. To be here to watch his son be a part of all the things he couldn’t.

For Telemachus to experience all the firsts with his boy that Odysseus missed with him.

[letterstoalonewolf]

Southern Charm

Jasper Hale x Reader

Summary: There’s something dangerous about Jasper Hale—something that should make you run the other way. But then he smirks, tilts his head just so, and says, “Looking good today, ma’am,” in that slow Southern drawl, and suddenly, you forget why you were supposed to resist him in the first place.

The first time you heard Jasper Hale speak, it was over something as simple as a door.

You had reached for the handle, fingers barely grazing the metal before he was there, faster than humanly possible, pulling it open with an effortless grace. His touch was light, like the ghost of a promise, but the weight of his presence behind you was something you felt in your bones.

“After you, darlin’.”

The drawl was smooth, rich like aged whiskey, laced with something deeper—something that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. When you turned to meet his gaze, golden eyes locked onto yours, full of quiet amusement and something else you couldn’t quite name.

It wasn’t fair, really.

Jasper Hale was lethal in more ways than one.

It wasn’t just his impossible beauty, all sharp cheekbones and tousled blond waves that made him look like some Southern heartbreak wrapped in temptation. It wasn’t just his voice, either, that sinful, honeyed accent that curled around words like a promise, making even the simplest phrases sound like poetry. No, the real danger was how easily he could make you forget yourself.

And he knew it.

“See somethin’ you like, sugar?” he teased, the corner of his mouth lifting into that barely-there smirk.

Heat bloomed across your cheeks, but you refused to look away. “Just wondering if you always go out of your way to be this much of a gentleman.”

His chuckle was low, a quiet rumble in his chest as he leaned in just slightly, enough to make your breath catch. “Can’t help it, ma’am. Mama raised me right.”

His eyes flickered to your lips, just for a second—quick enough that you might have imagined it, but the way your stomach flipped told you otherwise.

Jasper Whitlock Hale was going to ruin you.

***

It didn’t stop there.

He was relentless in his quiet, effortless charm, making it impossible to ignore the fact that you were utterly, completely drawn to him.

It was in the way he always pulled out your chair before you could sit. The way he made a habit of offering his arm when you walked together, as if it were second nature—like touching you was something he couldn’t help but do.

And, of course, the compliments.

“Looking mighty fine today, sweetheart,” he’d murmur in passing, voice just low enough that only you could hear.

“You do that on purpose,” you accused one afternoon, unable to hide the way your lips twitched at his antics.

Jasper, ever composed, merely raised an eyebrow. “Do what, now?”

“That—” you waved a hand vaguely, flustered, “—the whole Southern gentleman routine. The flirting.”

He didn’t even try to look innocent. If anything, his smirk widened.

“Now, sugar,” he drawled, stepping in closer, “who said I was flirtin’?”

You scoffed, but your pulse betrayed you, fluttering wildly beneath his gaze. “Oh, please. You’re not subtle.”

Jasper hummed, tilting his head as if considering your words. Then, before you could react, he reached out, knuckles brushing against the curve of your jaw, tilting your chin up ever so slightly.

And just like that, all the breath left your lungs.

“Wouldn’t dream of bein’ subtle with you, darlin’,” he murmured, voice dipping into something lower, rougher. “I like makin’ sure you know exactly what’s on my mind.”

His thumb skimmed over your cheekbone, featherlight but searing, and you swore the entire world narrowed to the space between you.

Jasper didn’t just flirt.

He unraveled.

And you? You were already his to begin with.

***

It took you longer than you’d like to admit to realize the truth—why Jasper’s presence made something in your chest tighten, why the thought of him looking at anyone else with that quiet, devastating charm made your stomach twist.

Why being near him felt like gravity had finally stopped fighting you.

You were mates.

The realization hit you like a lightning strike, searing through every nerve, setting your entire world ablaze.

Jasper must have seen it in your face—how the pieces suddenly clicked together—because something flickered in his eyes.

“Ah,” he murmured, voice softer now, edged with something more vulnerable. “So you finally figured it out.”

Your breath hitched. “You knew?”

His lips curved into something painfully fond. “Course I knew, sugar.”

His fingers ghosted along the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse thundered. It was such a simple touch, but it might as well have been an earthquake, shaking everything you thought you knew.

“Jasper,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

He smiled, but it wasn’t the teasing, flirtatious smirk he usually wore. It was something else—something deeper, warmer.

“I’ve been waitin’ for you,” he admitted. “Didn’t wanna push you before you were ready to see it. But I’ve known from the second I laid eyes on you.”

Something swelled in your chest, too big, too much.

You swallowed hard. “And now?”

His hand slid up, fingers threading gently through yours, fitting so perfectly it almost hurt.

“Now,” he said, voice dipping into that low, devastating drawl, “I finally get to kiss my girl.”

And then he did.

His lips found yours in a kiss that was slow and deep, stealing the air from your lungs, grounding you and setting you free all at once.

It was the kind of kiss that felt like forever.

Because with Jasper?

Forever had already begun.

[starfullofideas]

cod brainrot and epic the musical brainrot overlapping-

imagine being married to king john price before he goes off to war, taking simon with him as his trusted hand of the king; gaz stays with you, advisor and protector of the queen. (telemachus, in this scenario, kinda)

ten years pass. twenty.

when price gets home after twenty years of gods, witches, war, cursed islands, with only simon left out of 500 men, only to find out that 100 fucking suitors who have been hounding his wife for twenty. fucking. years? he pulls out a sword rusted with blood and reminds everyone why he was called the Wolf in his youth.

there’s only one good one- some young lord mactavish who only came here after being pressed by his own council. price lets him live after he shares everything he’s learned over the past decade he’s been around.

everyone else? lord graves? prince konig? some foreign king makarov, who he heard plotting on how exactly he’d force himself onto his pious queen? oh, dead fucking meat.

(price. has had. enough.)

might write this into a full fic idk but anyone is welcome to expand

[meiluu]

Edward Cullen's Mate

Edward Cullen/ Afab!Reader

cw: SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral f receiving, unprotected p in v sex, edward breaks the headboard hehe, and edward is completely enamored with you.

(I need to get this out of my system, been thinking about him a lot recently...)

this was supposed to be a short drabble but i just couldn't shut up

reader pov.

Being with edward has been nothing but a beautiful and slightly chaotic ride. With finding out he wasn't human instead was a hundred something year old vampire along with the rest of his family. And then as your relationship grew as did the romance between you too, and that grew tenfold when the magnetic pull you felt for one another was because you were mates.

Fated to be together, equals, crafted for one another, you both completing one another and that never felt truer than now.

Body underneath his stony one, feverishly chilly lips leave a scorching trail of kisses from your neck to your bare chest. edward inhales your scent, and scent that didn't have him craving your blood like he was supposed to instead it calmed and aroused his body in a tantalizing mix. His eyes flick up to yours, pupils nearly completely dilated leaving behind a dark amber ring at the edge of his iris. Love and lust in his gaze has your body warming, and you knew that your gaze mimicked his.

"So beautiful. I'll never get enough of you my love." his word are spoken with nothing but truth. Leaving your shared gaze he continues his journey down your torso, soft hands caressing your hips squeezing the plump flesh before leading down your thighs to the backs of your knees. Mouth leaving behind love-bites upon your skin, each one sending jolts of heat straight to your core, evidence of your arousal staining the insides of your thighs.

Going lower with each kiss pulling your legs apart allowing him to sink further down, mouth right above where you need him most. A blush covers your cheeks and the tops of your breast, "Edward- you don't have to do that."

His gaze snaps up to you, and the sight of his head between your thighs with the full intention to bring you pleasure has you holding back a shiver. "I want to, God you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this. Can I ?" Why would you ever deny that? Nodding your head edward goes back to staring at your weeping cunt.

Hands tighten their grip on you before he's pushing them further apart and up, completely baring you to him. You watch as his mouth descends until you feel his tongue lick up from the bottom to your clit. softly wrapping the bud with his lips gently sucking on the bud, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. A moan falls from your slightly swollen lips, seeing your obvious satisfaction edward continues his ministrations. Swirling his tongue a sucking in your clit, body lighting up in euphoria as a ball of pleasure settles into the pit of your stomach. Shaky breaths leave you as your gaze stays locked onto edward’s head, vision blurring around the edges as your mind begins to wholly submit to him.

Then his mouth is leaving your clit all too soon, but you don't have to wonder for long where he's going next. His tongue delves straight into your cunt, mouth covering the bottom half of you. Your eyes widen before rolling back into your head at the mind-numbing sensation of his tongue massaging your walls, pushing in and out of you. Then one of his hands is leaving your thighs and begins to swirl your forgotten clit between his fingers.

Your breathing is uneven breast rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. Heart racing as your body becomes so pliant and warm under his devotion. Your moans and cries of his name bounce around the room, hands going to his soft hair to tangle themselves within them, hoping to keep yourself grounded. The knot within your belly only tightens with each moment that passes. Your mind lagging behind as it gets lost within this pleasure, you realize a little late that edwards tongue has left you but his cool fingers have entered and taken the spot where his tongue once was. Curling up sweetly rubbing into your g-spot, a near-cry of pleasure leaves you at this.

The ball of pleasure that had settled within your core tightened and then you where cumming, as your cunt milked his fingers as they continued to abuse your g-spot. With your high fizzling out of you, thighs shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Your eyes open looking down to see edward leaning his head against the one thigh he still had a grip on, fingers still buried within you and a smirk of satisfaction upon his face.

"You look so gorgeous when you cum." giving the inside of your thigh a sweet kiss before he starts to sit up, wrapping your legs around his waste. Face rising up to yours, his mouth comes down giving you a kiss that leaves you breathless. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes-yes, please." no shame, your words are full of need and edwards smirk brightens. "Of course my love, I am at your whim."

Reaching down taking edward by surprise, you grip his hardness, a groan leaves him at your soft hold. Lining him with your cunt you let him slowly sink into you. Your head falls further into the pillow as edward grits his teeth hoping to keep himself in control.

He stretches you out just perfectly, filling you up with no space left and your walls wrap so beautifully around him, so warm and wet and oh so welcoming to his cock. You were both made for one another as you slot together- bodies entwined with one another. "Move, Edward please." as your words leave you, he is obeying.

With near flawless movements he starts a slow yet deep pace, bottoming out to the hilt. Each thrust has you keening in utter ecstasy body lit aflame. But his pace begins to pick up speed as your cunt continues to push him to his limits by squeezing him, and with every pull out of you, your walls are trying to suck him back in. God he never knew he could feel like this, so wholly enraptured, this was his new drug and Edward knew that he would never want to part from it.

Your thighs tighten around his waist, arms leaving the bedsheets to latch onto his back. Nails digging into his stony muscle, as your head buries into his neck where his scent is strongest. Your sounds of pleasure are right by his ear, the most beautiful song he's ever heard. His arms leave your waist in favor of the headboard, harshly gripping onto the mahogany. Edward moans along with you as he tilts his pelvis down and up, kissing your g-spot with the tip of his cock. And with his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust back into your cunt.

Your arousal leaks out staining the fronts of his thighs along with the sheets beneath you, your heady scent filling the space around you two. Edward feels the head board snap then crumble within his grasp and not a moment after that does he feel your cunt quiver as you cum, walls milking him as a gush of your arousal stains his thighs. An unfiltered moan falls from edward, completely in shock at this sensation pace becoming frenzied as he pistons into you with the sole intention to cum within your cunt. Your head has fallen back into the pillow body buzzing in overstimulation as your third orgasm nears.

"Edward-please, please, I need it." words broken up by moans as you barely get them out. Edward's body hunches over yours, hands coming down from the shattered headboard to the sheets beside your head before quickly wrapping around your body. Pulling your chest against his, a hand against the small of your back the other at the base of your head.

His body trying to get as close to you as possible, trying to bury himself within you. Cock bullying your overstimulated and weeping cunt that continues to welcome him in with every thrust, pace now rougher and faster. Each time his cock bottoms out reaching the end of you your moans are punched out of you, mind having turned to mush. Your ears are hypnotized by the heady squelching sound of your cunt along with edwards moans of pure pleasure.

Edward feels the painfully tight knot of pleasure in his pelvis snap, cock swelling as he empties himself within you, eyes closing from the heavy orgasm. That orgasm grows tenfold with you cumming again, walls milking his cock in an attempt to ring him completely dry. Slowing down his thrusts as you both come down from your highs, coming to a stop as you are both left in the aftershocks of your orgasms. Gently bringing you back down to the bedsheets, turning to the side with you still within his embrace. feeling your racing heart against his chest.

Ever so softly he begins to place chaste kisses upon your skin along with 'I love you's, soon your body is lulled into unconsciousness, as edward continues to give his worship to your body. As you rest he lays protecting and watching over you and with every moment that passes does he fall more and more in love with you.

His mate, made just for him.

---

*not edited*

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

for @skeren ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

"Mu-shidi?" Yue Qingyuan asked.

Mu Qingfang was sitting on a decorative rock in one of Qian Cao Peak's small meditation gardens with his head in his hands. Yue Qingyuan paused, hesitating at the edge of the garden as he watched Mu Qingfang's shoulders heave with a deep sigh.

"Zhangmen-shixiong. In your purview as sect leader, do you believe I have the power to medically relieve someone from their position of authority on the grounds of madness?" He asked.

"Ah, I should have known this was coming," Yue Qingyuan said. He approached and sat next to Mu Qingfang on the rock, folding his arms over his knees and offering a small smile. "Will Mu-shidi finally be requesting this one's resignation?"

Mu Qingfang snorted a laugh and uncurled, but not without rubbing once more at his brow. "Actually, I meant myself."

"You?"

Mu Qingfang turned to look at him. Yue Qingyuan's brows shot up, startled at the absolutely exhausted and frantic look on his face. The healer was pale, his eyes shadowed, and Yue Qingyuan realised for the first time that some of his hair was slipping out from his wooden guan.

"What happened?" Yue Qingyuan asked, reaching out to catch Mu Qingfang's wrist. Mu Qingfang allowed the contact, not protesting at the reversal of their usual position as Yue Qingyuan probed his meridians, which Yue Qingyuan thought was a sign something was truly wrong.

"It's Shang-shidi," Mu Qingfang said gravely, which was not what Yue Qingyuan was expecting.

"What do you mean? Did something happen to Shang Qinghua? Did he—do something?"

"Is Zhangmen-shixiong familiar with the Bleeding Heart-Tongue Berry?"

"The one that causes full-body hemorrhaging?"

"No, that's the Crimson Bleeding Heart Berry."

"Oh. Oh, the one that requires oral dual cultivation to cure the deadly fever?"

"No, that's—it doesn't matter! The Bleeding Heart-Tongue Berry's sap and flesh is a powerful truth serum. It compels anyone who consumes or comes into physical contact with it to say whatever is on their mind, with complete honesty."

Yue Qingyuan looked around nervously. "We don't have an outbreak, do we?"

Mu Qingfang sighed one more, pushing his hand under his glasses to press against his eyes. "Shang-shixiong came into contact with some when he was on his last mission off the mountain. I have no idea how, since he was assigned to go secure a trade deal to the North East and they only grow in the South West, but—"

"But he was afflicted, and is now compelled to speak the truth?" Yue Qingyuan asked.

Mu Qingfang slipped his hand from Yue Qingyuan's so he could grip his arms, leaning in intently.

"He is driving. Me. Insane."

—

Mu Qingfang led Yue Qingyuan to one of the nearby patient rooms. Inside, Shang Qinghua sat at a low tea table, sipping at a cup that smelled medicinal and poking at some nuts and seeds on offer. Nothing looked amiss—Shang Qinghua didn't look damaged or ill, and the room was neat and orderly.

When they entered, Shang Qinghua's head shot up.

"Mu-shidi! Zhangmen-shixiong! This one is—not super glad to see you! Not that you're not great. Mu-shidi, I really appreciate how you keep us all alive. Remember that time I accidentally drank ink as a disciple and you had to pump my stomach? Yeah, I so am glad you were there to do that and not let me die. And Zhangmen-shixiong, you're very hot, and I love that, and I find how sad you life is—well, troubling actually, although not enough to do anything about it. You kind of make me uncomfortable to be around. But the hotness helps! Not right now, though. Right now I would love if you would leave, because I really don't want to tell you about anything I am thinking about, because I just got done spending three days sucking demonic dick and I really don't want to answer any follow up questions about—"

Shang Qinghua's eyes went wide. He grabbed a handful of the snacks and shoved them into his mouth, presumably hoping to stem the flow of words. Instead he immediately choked on them and coughed up walnuts and melon seeds over the table.

Yue Qingyuan rubbed his forehead. "Ah. I think I see the problem."

[chxmpagneprxblem]

Chapter One - Surprising

Tough Love Masterlist

“I don’t know, I just kind of let her do her thing. I love the girl but she’s kind of a lost cause.” You shrugged and Leah looked up to where Bella and Jake were chatting in the booth opposite them.

“You don’t think it’s weird? That she goes from screaming nightmares to as normal as she gets in a few weeks?” Leah asked and you could only shrug again.

You couldn’t lie and tell her you knew how Bella’s brain worked. Your sister was a mystery to you as much as your mother always had been. You supposed you had been lucky when Renee lost the fight against the temptation to leave and could only mentally cope with one child. The quiet one.

Not to say you had been in any way wild. You had just been older. Set in routine and able to voice your opinion. And your opinion was that your dad was your favorite. A fact Renee never liked.

So every summer you trekked to Arizona where Bella and Renee had ended up and spent two weeks with them only to trek back down with Bella so she could spend her time with Charlie.

It had never been a particularly enjoyable time for either of you. So when Bella packed up and moved to Forks you had already expected to have distance between you both. Adding Edward Cullen to the mix only made things worse.

You could never have expected Bella to shack up with Cullen, much less go batshit insane over him. You would never forgive your sister for the torment she was putting Charlie through every day she grieved a dumb high school fling.

So you escaped her. Escaped her zombified state in the damn chair in her bedroom. Leah had been your saving grace. Harry and Charlie had shoved you both together as kids and the bond had stuck, bringing you to their door whenever you couldn’t stomach looking at Bella.

Although heartbreak was still prominent in the Clearwater home, at least Leah had a reason to be so cut up. Sam and her had plans. They had been together for years. Not a matter of months like Bella and Edward.

You couldn’t help but wonder had you and Bella been raised together would you offer her the support you so readily gave to Leah. “I think she’s found a new boy to focus on.”

Leah tilted her head from side to side as she considered your answer. You didn’t really believe the idea yourself but it was strange, how completely Jacob had turned your sister’s mental breakdown into a memory.

“The kid must have game.” Leah said and you snorted in laughter, your milkshake dribbling pathetically down your chin. “You’re disgusting, you freak.”

“You’re the one thinking weird thoughts about a kid!” You argued and Leah only rolled her eyes. “Gonna have to warn my dad what you’re up to.”

“Shut up, haven’t you got work? Those tents ain’t gonna sell themselves.” She teased and you looked at your watch before sighing.

“Cause you ain’t got a boat to be fixing with your dad, little Ms Nepo Baby.” You scoffed, shoving your way out of the booth. “You think she even noticed I was here?”

“Ah, the nepotism of the boat rental business. A true life of luxury.” Leah knocked you with her elbow. “She hasn’t noticed you once her life. Why would she start today?”

Your smart reply for Leah died on your tongue when three tall shirtless men entered the diner, staring off to the side. Leah dropped her head, her long hair falling to cover her face.

You scoffed, side stepping Paul LaHote with a scowl. Less than a year ago Paul was a minor annoyance for Sam. Someone he had a rivalry with in high school. Now they were best friends and Sam had dropped Leah and picked up her cousin. It was enough to sour your good mood.

“Don’t.” Leah grabbed your wrist when you paused. She knew you wanted to give Sam another piece of your mind. She had stopped letting you when you almost ran him over at the beach a few weeks before.

You rolled your eyes before turning to glare at Sam one last time but Paul moved between you both, staring you down in challenge. You’d like to think you won when his jaw fell slack and he stumbled against the table.

“Fuck those guys.” You huffed once Leah had dragged you out the door. “Hope they catch a cold.”

“Damn killer, take it easy. Not a cold.” Leah laughed but it was strained. “Go to work. Earn enough money so I can quit my job and become a stay at home best friend.”

“Best friend? You’re not even in my top three.” Her laugh was less strained when you both parted ways and you blew her a kiss across the car lot, smiling when she pretended to bat it away.

…

“Can you watch my lane for a few?” You looked up from the schedule you had been trying to organize and blinked at Mike who was trying to look a lot more innocent than he was.

“A few? Like say, ten minutes?” You asked and he shrugged. “Or enough time for me to realize you’re skipping the last thirty minutes of your shift?”

“I’ll do a double next Friday to bail you out if you let me go now?” He offered and you sighed.

“Your name is above the door, kid. I don’t care if you cut or not. Ain’t like I can fire you.” You shrugged and locked your computer.

“Awh, don’t be like that. Dad would quicker fire me and adopt you if he thought Charlie wouldn’t notice. Best assistant manager he’s ever had apparently.” You laughed and shooed Mike out the door, heading for his lane which had conveniently cashed up and gotten ready to hand over.

Friday night wasn’t typically busy in the store. Not many people needed last minute hiking attire for the weekend and so you had time to finish up the schedule that had been bothering you and change the displays in the store windows before you were interrupted by a customer.

Not just a customer though, your sister.

“Everything okay?” You asked her warily. Talking to Bella in the last three months was almost like talking to a wall if the wall had the ability to start screaming at a pitch only dogs could hear.

“Just looking for some new boots.” She hummed and you nodded slowly, pointing her in the direction she needed.

You weren’t entirely sure why she’d need hiking boots. Bella and the outdoors weren’t exactly well acquainted.

And yet she reappeared with the boots and shelled out the cash for them with barely an extra word. To an outsider it would be impossible to tell you knew each other, never mind that you were sisters.

You watched her leave and huffed a sigh. You’d mention it to Charlie in passing. See if he knew why she suddenly wanted to hike with all the recent bear spottings in the woods.

…

Jared was laughing. His whole body shook with it, so much so that Paul could feel the vibrations from where he paced in Sam’s back garden. He’d been stuck as a wolf for almost an hour now because every time he calmed down Jared would piss him off again.

“The only person-“ a fit of laughter interrupted Jared trying to make his point. “The only one that hates us more than Leah and you imprint on her.”

Paul dove for Jared and once again Sam got between them. Paul growled at Sam, backing off once more. He was going to be stuck as a wolf forever at this rate.

Jared controlled himself enough to phase and all three of them padded into the woods.

So what are you gonna do?

Paul sighed at Jared’s question, dropping down to his belly and putting his paws over his eyes as if it would quell the urge to go and look for her.

You need Billy or Harry on your side. It’s your only hope.

Paul lifted his head and looked at Sam who was watching Paul carefully where he lay in the dirt.

Why them?

Charlie, Billy and Harry raised those girls together. You remember how attached Rachel, Rebecca and Leah were with her. Those men will know how to get you in her good books.

Paul considered Sam’s words and huffed a sigh when he realised he had no other choice. If he wanted to get to know you then something drastic had to change.

…

Harry laughed until he was bowed over and then told him to go away. Paul understood, things were less than amicable between the pack and Leah which in turn affected Harry’s ability to help when he didn’t feel he was needed.

It was still fucking annoying.

So Paul found himself sitting at Billy Black’s kitchen table and telling the whole story from start to finish. When he relayed the last detail he sat back and watched Billy process everything.

“You boys can never do anything the easy way.” Billy sighed and ran a hand over his face. “She might hate the wolves more than even Leah. She considers that girl her sister. And watching the hurt Leah suffered because of the imprint bond, well it changed things.”

“I will do anything Billy. Just to be able to have a five minute conversation with her. It’s been two weeks and I haven’t seen her.” Paul sighed, his exhaustion ringing out in every word he spoke.

“Well, we need to plan carefully-“

The front door opened after a short knock and Paul held his breath when your voice called out for Jacob and then Billy.

“Hey, old man. Where’s your kid?” You turned the corner and paused when you took in the scene in front of you. Paul could’ve cheered when you didn’t immediately glare at him.

“He and Bella went out early. I don’t know where. Why do you need him?” Billy didn’t acknowledge that Paul was in the room and he was grateful because it gave him a chance to just watch you, absorb all the details he had missed before.

“My car is doing that stupid thing again. The gear shift keeps getting jammed in reverse.” You sighed and Paul raised his eyes to the heavens above and thanked every spirit there was.

“I could have a look at that, if you need?” He offered quietly and you looked him over, blinking as if just remembering he was here.

“You?” Paul didn’t know if the disbelief was because he dared speak to you or because you doubted his ability.

“I uh, pick up a shift or two in the garage just off the Rez. If you can spare the afternoon I can bring it up now and fix it?” Paul wasn’t sure when he turned into this quiet, meek man. He hadn’t been unsure of himself in a long time.

“I’ve got work. This afternoon.” You explained and Paul shrugged.

“I’ll head up there with you? Take the truck back to the garage and have it back to you before your shift is over.” Paul tensed every muscle in his body and begged the spirits to keep his luck moving.

“Jake won’t be back until after dark. They’ve been doing this for days.” Billy encouraged and Paul could’ve kissed the old man. Instead he vowed to serve him for eternity.

“You’re sure you can fix it today?” You asked and Paul released a breath. “Cause I can just wait for Jake if it’ll take you too long.”

“Two hours, three at a push.” You considered his answer before glancing at the clock on the wall and back to Paul.

“Are you ready to go now, then? I’ve got work in forty minutes.” Paul jumped out of his chair and it clattered to the ground causing everyone to flinch.

“Sorry. Sorry.” He picked the chair up and smiled sheepishly at you. “I’m ready when you are.”

[winxanity-ii]

I JUST CANT GET THIS IMAGE OUT OF MY HEADDD

SILLY HEADCANON

ughhhh

Like when the kitchen serve smth that Y/n doesn’t like but she also doesn’t not want to seem like a picky eater she will just take a few bites then play coy and spoon feed it to Telemachus. Mask it as all lovely dovy n stuff, n everyone thinks they are sooooo cute but only Telemachus knows! And after a while he gain weights, like his baby fat returns, yet he still savour every bit of foof Y/n feed him…(he then process to lowkey do the same to Y/n..)

NO BECAUSE THIS??? THIS IS CANON. THIS IS SO THEM 😭😭

Telemachus sitting there, all pink in the face, cheeks full of food he didn't even ask for while Reader's like "oh nooo, I'm just being sweet~ ❤️" when really she's like "if I have to eat another mouthful of this I will simply pass away so YOU handle it."

And the baby fat comeback??? STOP. He's already built like he grew up on war bread and stress, so seeing him soften just a little because of you?? You feeding him with your own hands??? YOU'RE FATTERING THE PRINCE??? I'm about to faint in the name of love and domestic gluttony.

AND THE FACT HE STARTS DOING IT BACK??? I can already hear him all smug like, "Oh, so you didn't like that soup? That's alright, I’ll eat it—open." cue spoon dramatically aimed at your lips like it's war strategy 😩💖

This is the kind of softness that keeps me breathing. I'm clutching my pearls. You are a genius. A menace. A blessing. I want to write this. I want to breath this. I want to experience this in my life 😭

So um. Yeah. Here's a little scene you inspired:

𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (post-move to the palace wing, late afternoon, private dining nook. Fluff overload.)

The stew was… awful.

Not poisonous—just aggressively bland. The kind that clung to your tongue and made your soul beg for forgiveness. A tragic grayish lump of overboiled roots and forgotten ambition.

You took one bite, then another—enough to seem polite—enough to fake it.

Then you set your spoon down with a sweet sigh and scooted your bowl ever so slightly toward the middle of the little table.

"Mm. You should eat mine too," you said, voice honeyed as you leaned your chin into your hand. "It's still warm."

Telemachus looked up from his own bowl, which he had been eating tucked by your window, sunlight catching on the tips of his lashes. He blinked at you, lips parted like he was mid-thought.. "That's the third meal this week you've 'sweetly' surrendered to me," he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm starting to think you hate the palace menu."

You tilted your head. "Noooo," you said, much too fast. "I just like seeing you eat. You look happier when you're chewing. Like a thoughtful goat... It's comforting."

You spooned up a bit of your untouched stew and leaned across the table. "Here," you offered with a sweet smile.

He huffed a laugh but leaned forward anyway, letting you feed him a bite. His mouth opened, and he bit down, wincing slightly.

"Mmm," he deadpanned.

"You didn't even chew it all the way," you whispered, scandalized watching as his jaw flexed as he chewed.

"Didn't need to. The pain was immediate." He raised a brow. "Tastes like boiled disappointment."

You giggled, scooping another bite. "C'mon. One more. I'll even give you a kiss if you finish it."

Telemachus froze.

You blinked at him, innocent.

He took it, eyeing you the whole time, before glancing at your down at your bowl. "Wait a second," he muttered. "You hate this stew."

You blinked again, wounded. "I would never—"

"You always get all syrupy with the compliments when the kitchen messes up," he went on, leaning back in mock-revelation. "That soup on Monday. The weird lemon thing on Tuesday. The steamed cabbage loaf yesterday—"

"I was being supportive of the kitchen's dishes and wanted you to try it," you interrupted.

"You made me eat three of them."

"It's character-building," you said, solemn.

He stared at you.

You stared back.

"You're not off the hook, you know."

You blinked. "What do you mean?"

Then slowly, he stood from his seat, circled the table, and crouched beside your chair.

You opened your mouth to say something else—but he plucked your spoon out of your hand before you could.

"Say 'ah.'" he murmured, crouching beside you now.

You blinked. "Telemachus, I—"

"I'm serious."

"You're going to make me eat it?"

"I'm going to feed it to you. Lovingly. Like you do me."

You stared at him with narrowed eyes. "That's evil."

He smiled—sweet, smug, soft around the edges. "Say 'ah.'"

So you sighed… and opened your mouth.

The stew was still awful.

But gods, his grin afterward made it easier to swallow.

He didn't comment when you tried to sneak him another bite halfway through.

He just took it. Quiet. Smiling. Watching you like he'd been waiting for this game to unravel.

And so it went—your silly little food dance. You pretending not to hate it, him pretending not to notice, and somehow both of you ending up full, and quietly warm.

And by the end of the week? His jaw was softer. His tunic snugger. You mentioned nothing.

Until one afternoon, when he poked his stomach and muttered something about needing to train more—because his belt was starting to groan when he sat down.

You just grinned.

And handed him another spoon

[kibbyy]

what do you think cait thought about jayce disappearing?

do you think she understood when she realized viktor was gone too? do you think she hopes the two just ran away from it all together? or is she too pragmatic and accepts jayce is dead (i’m a “they woke up in an au found a cabin and lived happily ever after” truther to cope)

how long do you think she waited for him to come home? what do you think she told his mother? i feel like cait would have told ximena he died fighting to save them and succeeded but cait deep down would always wonder exactly what happened.

i’ve just really been thinking about jayce and caitlyn and what we missed out seeing about their relationship because arcane wanted to squeeze like 3 seasons worth of content EASY into one season.

i’ve always loved caitlyn even with the flaws she has, she had me by the neck ever since i saw her following jayce back to his apartment right before it blew up. she was too cute i swear. then the brothel scene with her and vi sealed the deal.

at least vi and cait had each other for comfort after losing their siblings? another thing in common? 😭

arcane i need answers i beg

[witless-winion1]

imagine Polites was in the courtyard for the last battle of Troy. Imagine he looks up from bandaging a comrade’s injury, and sees his friend. Helmet off, head lowered, face pinched in what could only be described as anguish. Polites would have called to him, but he knows better than to interrupt Ody during his Big Brain Thinking moments.

but then his friend raises something into view over the wall; a swaddle of white, and it’s squirming, enough that Polites could see it from where he stands, now frozen in confusion and inexplicable dread. Odysseus loved kids and babies, he wouldn’t harm one for any reason. Hell, he’d cried so hard when Penelope gave birth to Telemachus that he’d nearly passed out from dehydration. He’d spared every child in every battle in this ten-year war.

but his friend extends his arm, holding the swaddle precariously by the ends of the blanket, over the thirty foot drop onto the solid stone ground. The innocent baby just wiggles unconcernedly.

Polites opens his mouth, but whatever he was going to say (because he certainly didn’t know himself) gets caught, and then his friend lets go.

and Polites can’t turn away as the white swaddle falls, a sudden, tiny cry starting from the hidden infant’s throat, that cuts off when it hits the ground, with a sound that Polites never wanted to hear again, and the white turns red.

Out of every horror he’s seen that night, that’s the one he dreams of when he eventually lays his head down to sleep.

He wakes thrashing, falling out of his hammock, and Odysseus’s hand jerks from his shoulder to his side, catching him before he can hit the ground and aggravate whatever minor injuries he got from the last battle.

Polites has always been a very honest person. Since boyhood, since he told his mother was sick because he ate too much sesamous when he was five, confessed to Odysseus and Eurylochus that he didn’t like hunting when he was nine, told his aunt she was too unkind to the less fortunate then them when he was thirteen.

when Odysseus asks him what troubles him, Polites can’t seem to bring himself to admit the truth.

when they sail for home, he forces himself not to avoid his captain. They’ve all done horrible things in the heat of Ares’ domain. but a baby? whispers his conscious.

Shush, he tells it. There’s a logical solution, there has to be.

and yet Odysseus offers none, and he is too cowardly to ask for it, and gods know he cannot make sense of it no matter how he tosses and turns with the rocking ship.

when they reach the island of the Lotus Eaters, Polites smiles at the funky little guys, adoring their blissful grin. He crouches and strokes it, cooing about how soft it is. Odysseus hums, unfazed, and grumpy. Polites can tell he hasn’t slept well the past few weeks. But he reaches down anyway and picks one up under the arms, studying it from every angle while the innocent creature just wiggles unconcernedly in his hands.

Polites can’t help the urge to gently pull the creature from his hands. He smiles to cover whatever tension there is, and places the lotus eater safely in the ground.

he reminds his friend that there’s no need to constantly be suspicious and prone to fighting; why not default to greeting the world with kindness and open arms? Even though trust may get taken advantage of sometimes, it would at least alleviate the risk of unnecessary blood spilled.

and as Odysseus looks away, Polites sees the pain in his eyes, staring at the Lotus eaters as they tumble around with each other. One drops suddenly from a low tree limb, and while Polites manages to stifle his wince, Odysseus is caught just off-guard enough to flinch when it hits the ground with a thump. The lotus eater gets up and ambles off without a scratch.

“This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms,” Polites says softly, reaching out to grasp his friend by the elbow. “I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart…”

Polites could see as the words hit home, his friend’s shoulders drooping as he looks up at him. His eyes are nearly akin to what Argos’s looked like when their ships sailed from Ithaca’s harbor.

“…so why not replace it, and light up the world; here’s how to start…” Polites gently squeezes his arm. “Greet the world with open arms.”

“Greet the world with open arms…” Odysseus repeated softly, leaning into him. Polites let him hide his face in his chest, wrapping him in his arms and letting him hide from the weight of his not-so-secret sins.

[all54321]

“The Light of my Life”

[AO3]

So… secret life everyone. That was certainly something. That line has me unwell, plus the whole camel ride to the desert?? These two. Anyways, had to write a drabble about this line.

—————

While Scar had mostly done it for the secret, and changed his words, he can’t help but voice his true thoughts behind the ‘nickname.’

Scar looks back over at Grian, and murmurs, “Light of my life.”

Grian glances back over at him and he watches his eyes widen a fraction. He turns away, a flush quickly covering his face.

Scar can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, it’s always so easy to fluster Grian, but all he really wants is a response back. It can be anything, he just needs something back.

[j3rryw-ot0m]

Edward x Deer reader ᝰ.ᐟ

A/N ᝰ.ᐟThinking about loving Edward Cullen; Specifically Deer reader loving Eddie, and No I'm not talking about human-deer hybrid reader.

I'm talking about a reader with a deer-like aesthetic, y'know similarly to how Bella was always referred to as a lamb or sheep.

Edward x Deer reader ᝰ.ᐟ

Your soft docile demeanor disguising a prey whose used to being hunted, is so exceedingly different from what Edward would be used to. You'd probably already peeped his eye-fucking as strange, but that's wasn't just it you'd know.

Like know– know.

Maybe it would be the cold predatorial way he looked at you or maybe you just knew what it feels like to be hunted, but either way you knew.

Wether your his Bloodsinger or Mate doesn't matter, Either way your relationship would probably be nothing like his and Bella's; because with experience comes patterns.

You wouldn't let him Boss you around like Bella, because you know how to how run– I mean it's literally in your spirit to sniff out a predator and you definitely sniffed Edward out the moment he transferred to your A.P biology class.

You probably didn't even acknowledge him despite the intense staring or him trying to 'understand' you.

I don't think you'd give him more than a second glance.. until the car scene happens...

you'd freeze up, terrified.

And against all nature's laws he saves you.

Despite the fact that you could see the headlights closing in and your grizzly demise seemed so unavoidable– you avoided it.

Edward saves you like a pedestrian hitting the brakes just a little too late, you got a concussion and some bruises... But you're here.

And that's all that should matter right? Right?!

But it doesn't instead of being grateful, your a little pissed. He took your death and now your stuck in some weird limbo of purgatory, Your life feels over yet, your still here.

Still kicking, still running from the inevitable.

I think that's how you'd two collide, he's been searching for something to chase after– something to need and you need someone to want you in that visceral way only predators muster, in a way that'd heal the part of you that feels unloved.

You'd despise each other.

He can't stand his lack of control and you can't stand your own stupidity, you both know this'll end in fire and yet you both still dance amongst the flames– willing to be burnt.

[letterstoalonewolf]

Crimson Fate

Jasper Hale x Reader

Summary: Jasper was a storm, quiet but unrelenting, and you were caught in his current long before you realized you’d stopped resisting. There was no friendship where soul-deep devotion lived—only the inevitable fall, slow and all-consuming, into something neither of you could deny.

The air between you and Jasper was always charged, a live wire crackling with an energy that had no name. It wasn’t just attraction—it was something deeper, something that settled in your bones and made you ache in a way you didn’t have the words for.

You’d known him for months now, but it still didn’t feel real sometimes, how effortless it was to be around him. Jasper Hale—the quiet one, the intense one. The boy with golden eyes that seemed to read you like an open book and a presence so grounding that it felt like standing on the edge of something vast and endless.

And the worst part? He knew. He knew exactly what he did to you.

"Here, darlin’," his voice, smooth and edged with the faintest trace of a Southern drawl, interrupted your thoughts as he plucked the books from your arms before you could protest.

"Jasper," you sighed, exasperated but secretly touched. "I can carry my own books, you know."

His lips twitched in that almost-smile that made your breath catch. "Not while I’m around."

You didn’t bother fighting him on it. You never won.

Instead, you walked side by side through the hallways, bodies close enough that the backs of his fingers brushed yours with every step. You swore it wasn’t an accident. Not with the way his touch lingered, featherlight but deliberate. Not with the way his pinky hooked against yours for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before slipping away like it never happened.

Heat bloomed beneath your skin. He felt it too—you knew he did.

Jasper had an uncanny ability to read emotions, a gift that should have made you wary. But it didn’t, because he never used it against you. He never forced you to say things you weren’t ready to. He just... waited.

And watched.

Across classrooms, across hallways, from across the cafeteria where he sat with his family, his golden eyes would find you. Hold you. Strip you bare without a single word.

You should’ve looked away. You never did.

Lunch was loud, but it all faded to the background the second Jasper slid into the seat beside you, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. He smelled like something woodsy, like leather and the crisp bite of autumn, a scent that had become so familiar it made your stomach tighten.

"You're quiet today," he murmured.

Your fingers played idly with the hem of your sleeve. "Just thinking."

"’Bout what?"

You hesitated. "You."

Something shifted in his expression, something unreadable but sharp. His hand, rough yet careful, found yours beneath the table, his thumb tracing along your knuckles in slow, soothing circles.

Jasper never pushed. He never demanded. But the way he looked at you now—like he was waiting for something, for you to finally say the things you were both dancing around—made your throat dry.

Instead of answering, you turned your hand over in his, fingers slotting between his like it was second nature. His grip tightened for a fraction of a second, almost like he was afraid you’d pull away. You didn’t.

It happened after school, when the sky was fading into hues of violet and the air had that crisp edge that hinted at impending rain.

Jasper walked you to your car, as he always did, your bag slung effortlessly over his shoulder like it was his to carry.

"You don’t have to do this every day, you know," you teased, leaning against the car.

He stepped closer, close enough that you could see the different shades of gold in his irises. "I know."

There was a beat of silence. Then—

"Y/N." His voice was quiet but steady, his gaze so intense it rooted you in place. "You know this won’t last forever."

Your stomach clenched. "What?"

"Us," he said simply. "Being just friends."

Your breath hitched. He was too close, the warmth of his body seeping into yours despite the crisp evening air. His fingers brushed your cheek, knuckles trailing featherlight across your skin before he cupped your face completely.

"You feel it too," he murmured. Not a question. A statement.

You swallowed hard, heart hammering against your ribs. "Jasper—"

His thumb traced along your cheekbone, lingering at the corner of your mouth. And then—so close, too close—he leaned in, pressing the softest kiss just beside your lips. Almost.

When he pulled away, his eyes searched yours, waiting.

He was right. You knew it.

Sooner or later, you wouldn’t be able to resist him anymore.

[theproverbialpen]

How would your character say “I love you” without using those words? (EPIC: Poseidon Drabble)

My friends and I just wrapped a session of a creative writing exercise where we only have 5 minutes to write for a prompt and I ended up writing some really sappy shit centered around my EPIC fic that I was actually pretty proud of :) No cut this time cause it's pretty short:

It was quiet offerings left on the shore. It was the starfish woven into every design. It was the best fruits from her market haul left on the altar by her gorgeous tapestry, warmed by the hearth. 

It was shy glances and small smiles. It was epithet after epithet, each one more obscure than the last. It was the way she cradled the shell close to her as she drifted off to sleep.

It was the gentle patterns she would trace into his chest after they had lain together, whether going at it like fervent animals or making love like it was her last day. It was the way she would sing to him, not with the seductive siren song he so loved, but with her voice. Her high notes and stunning vibrato. It was all the things that were uniquely her, things that she would show no one else—mortal and divine alike.

She would never say she loved him. Not in that way. It was something that bordered far too close to sacrilege, to the hubris so frowned upon by mankind and their fragile cities of stone and prose. She would never say something so audacious, despite her audacity in every other facet of her fleeting yet memorable life.

But Poseidon knew. He knew when she curled into his side, when they floated amongst his domain together, and when they bantered for hours just to enjoy each other’s company.

His little siren would never say that she loved him. But in a thousand ways and more, she showed him the depth of her adoration and then some.

((Line divider made by @plum98))

[ineedtherapydesperately]

I was listening to the Cyclops saga and more specifically My Goodbye and like tell me why is that song so Red and Queen of Hearts coded?? like a Red and Queen of Hearts coming of age kinda scenario like imagine QoH is all demeaning and condescending towards Red and then Red just snaps?? straight up loses her shit?? like hear me out it's so them

like this is absolutely something QoH would say bsffr especially considering the books as well and girlie is here like I raised you to be the Princess of Hearts?? blah blah we're meant to be evil rulers together in the future for the sake of Wonderland

then the lecture would absolutely turn into a 'why are you such a disappointment' rant and then QoH goes on a whole ass tirade against Red again like

and Red just snaps, thinking about her friends like Chester and Ace, thinking about what QoH did to them and thinking about how she was so utterly powerless against her own mother

so she screams, she yells, she cuts QoH out of her life for good because she's so SICK of her mother constantly telling her what to do, how to act, who to kill. she's so sick of living her life under some Queen, ruled by some Queen

but ofc QoH has to slip in her own little off with their heads reference but surprisingly doesn't put up too much of a fight?? like she just lets Red walk out, which surprises Red until she realises that it's a sick ploy because who can Red turn to now?? she just alienated the RULER of Wonderland, their absolute Queen, their tyrant but Red can't find it in herself to care because she's finally free of her mother

and Red being Red can't resist one last quip at her mother before she leaves the court for the final time, packing her bags and headed off to wherever (probably Chloe) and leaves QoH to wallow in this parting shot because Red was right?? she's all alone?? first, Ella left her, and now her daughter and she's all alone??

idk this song got me thinking things but yeah Red is so Odysseus coded and QoH is so Athena coded

[yandereunsolved]

☾ Yandere Thorfinn ☾

"Hmm. There is nowhere you can hide among all of these lands where I won't find you. For even the gods would fear my wrath if they took you from my arms."