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reidsmanuscript · 17 hours ago

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Seven Seconds

Summary: when Katie Jacob's gets abducted in a Mall, setting the clock for the BAU, who needs a legal favor, and it's been a year since the A.D.A. has know anything about Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: pinning, SLOW BURN, maybe right moment?, angst bc i love angst wc: 4.6k! (i know so small comparing to part 1 bear with me) TW: cm canon typical violence, set in 05x3 "Seven seconds" (obviously lol), sexual violence, implied reader's dark past, glimpses of female rage. A/N: my idea for the serie is be taylor jenkins reid and have you question if lawyer reader exists or not (delusional bitch), english is not my first language and let's pretend it's proofread part I - part II - part III - part IV

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Spencer sat on the park bench reading a book while playing chess with Ethan, brilliant kid for his age and good opponent, not good enough tho because when he cheered “I see checkmate in 5, What do you see?” It took Spencer one glance to calculate all the movements necessary.

“I see it in 3” he answered looking at his book again, the kid turned around the board and moved the pieces

“We've missed you out here” he said, staring at the board amazed.

“Thanks. I, uh, I had to take a little break”

“How come?” His hands froze on the book for a second before closing it.

Spencer had been clean for over a year now, it was 14 months and 2 weeks ago that he had freaked out after noticing his stash of Dialud was gone along with his needle. Where could he find more? Who knew about his addiction? Where was his stash? Who the fuck is Dr. Fitzgerald? Did you report him?

His first instinct was confronting you, given that you were the only person who found out his drugs that he knew, the first days he was a complete paranoid, he jumped every time Hotch called his name, or that Gideon looked at him a little too long.

At the end of the week he was thinking where he could find more, and when that thought scared him, he called the number of the card you had left in the same pocket his drugs used to be.

“Hello this is Dr. Fitzgerald” said a calm voice, it was 10 p.m. so there was a higher chance of going to voicemail, but he got an answer and the tremor of his hands got a little worse. Was it the anxiety or the withdrawal?

“Umm hello.. this is.. Dr.. this is Spencer Reid and someon-""I've been waiting for your call Dr Reid” the other line interrupted, he froze for a second.

“I used to play with a co-worker friend of mine. He's probably the best mind I ever went up against. One day, he just decided that he didn't want to play anymore.”

Fast forward, she helped him get clean and stay clean after Gideon left, getting tested regularly, and gave him the contact of the help group of FBI addicts. He was better, he was alive.

“So you gave up, too?”

“Just the opposite. I attempted to play Through every permutation of moves on a chessboard.”

“That's an infinite number of games.”

“It's not infinite. It's just- it's exponentially large.”

“You couldn't have played through them all.”

“There's an average of 40 moves per chess game, And I'll tell you something– the more I played, The more I realized that every single match every single chess game, Is really just a simple variation on the exact same theme. You know? It's aggressive opening, Patient mid-game, inevitable checkmate, And I realized why my friend quit. He was tired of repeating the same patterns And expecting a different outcome.”

“That's because you haven't come up on Fridays or Mondays in a while” the way his eyebrows went up along his voice tone made him feel like he knew something that he didn't.

His eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“There's this great player who comes around those days, she even brings the best pastries, and her games is similar to yours, always two or three moves ahead, she always beats everyone here… i think her boyfriend called her Buzz or something like that, like the Toy Story character”

“Buzz?… i don't really remember anyone with that nickname”

“It’s probably not that one but you don't know her because she started coming like 8 months ago.. I'm sure you have a lifetime of chess strategy in your head that you're just sitting on, but when you meet her?” He made a dramatic pause “You'll have to play it.”

He glances at his watch to realize his 15 minute break is coming to an end. “I still use it. I just, uh... I apply it differently. I have to go. It's good seeing you.”

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That evening, the BAU was called in for a local case—a little girl, Katie, had been kidnapped from a busy mall. A week earlier, another girl had been taken from the same location and found dead hours later. Now, they were all racing against the clock.

Katie’s parents were desperate. As any parents would be in this situation, right? But when Hotch asked the father if either of them was having an affair—a routine question in abductions—the man took offense. Deep offense. So much so that he refused to let the FBI search their house.

Now, what kind of parent refuses to help the police find their missing child?

In a small surveillance room, Morgan and Reid sat with Garcia, who was visibly frustrated by the mall’s ancient security system. They were surrounded by screens displaying grainy footage from different angles—well, almost every angle. They had a single glimpse of Katie in one video, and then, seven seconds later, she was gone.

JJ and Prentiss were with the mother, aunt, and uncle, trying to get a read on the family dynamic. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid had conducted a cognitive interview with Katie’s cousin. It had led nowhere.

“The family has refused permission to search the house,” Hotch announced as he stepped into the room.

“What do you mean they denied?” Morgan’s frustration was evident. “Your only child goes missing, and you refuse to collaborate?”

No one disagreed. They were all thinking the same thing.

“The cousin didn’t say much,” Reid added. “He was too distracted in the game room to notice anything.”

Hotch exhaled sharply. “I’ll speak to the detectives, see if we can get a warrant.” His tone was firm, but they all knew time wasn’t on their side.

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Sir, I mean this in the best way possible, but it’s almost 8 p.m. I don’t think-”

“I’ll handle it,” Morgan interrupted.

All Reid and Garcia turned to him with identical looks. What do you mean you will handle it?

Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod and walked away. Morgan was already pulling out his phone.

“I have a contact,” he explained, dialing.

He put the phone on speaker. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a voice answered—sharp, direct, and all business.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

Reid went rigid.

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It was late in the office; most people had already gone home, including your assistant Molly. All but Austin, who was still there because he had a lead on one of your cases. You knew he was still hanging around because, over a year ago, when someone had snuck into your office to harm you, you’d become a little paranoid. You’d gotten better, but Austin insisted on keeping you company, especially since your car was in the mechanic’s.

You were reviewing a legal brief, pen in hand, skimming the margins to jot down notes when the desk phone rang. Without looking up, you hit the speaker button with the tip of the pen.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice cut in—smooth, direct, urgent.

Morgan called your name “Hey. We need a warrant. Fast.” You blinked, setting the pen down.

Reid and Garcia exchanged glances as Morgan jumped in without hesitation.

“Katie Jacobs. Eight years old. Abducted from a mall earlier tonight,” Morgan started, all business. “Another girl was taken from the same place a week ago—she was found dead hours later. We’re working against the clock.”

You frowned, swirling the pen, going through the multiple scenarios. You had heard about last week’s case, and how slow the police had moved back then.

“We’ve got mall surveillance footage,” Morgan pressed. “At first, we thought she just vanished, but Garcia finally pulled something from one of the side corridors. Katie wasn’t taken by force—she was walking calmly with someone.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around her pen. “Someone she knows.”

“Exactly,” Morgan confirmed. “That narrows it down to family or close acquaintances.” They all shared a silent thought. Family.

We know they’re hiding something,” Morgan corrected. “We just don’t have the probable cause to kick the door down.”

Garcia watched as Morgan paced slightly, his tone firm but urgent.

“That’s thin, Morgan,” Your voice came through the speaker, steady and unyielding.

“We don’t have time for airtight,” Morgan countered.

Your jaw tightened. “You don’t have time for me to get laughed out of a judge’s office, either. Refusing a search isn’t a crime, and suspicion alone doesn’t cut it. I need more.” You understood where the suspicious came from, how are you supposed to help them if they had nothing?

There was a pause. A beat of silence. Then, another voice—one you hadn’t heard in over a year.

“99% of abducted children who are killed due within the first 24 hours” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even. Spencer Reid. “75% within the first 3 hours, and what only law enforcement knows is Jessica Davis joined the 44% of children who are abducted and killed within the first hour. We’re already past the three-hour mark. If we don’t act now, statistically speaking—”

“The likelihood of recovery drops exponentially,” You sighed, already standing up, ignoring how his voice sounded. So different. So… clean.

Your gaze flicked to the clock. 8:06 p.m. Damn it.

You grabbed a blank warrant form from her drawer and reached for a pen. “Send me the address and everything else you have. Give me 20 minutes.”

Click. You didn’t have time for goodbyes.

Austin raised an eyebrow from his seat. “Guess you’re not going home anytime soon.”

You didn’t look up as you started writing. “I never was.”

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The courthouse was mostly deserted at this hour. The fluorescent lights hummed quietly, and the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by the sharp click of your heels on the polished floors followed by Austin’s boots toward the judge’s chambers.

“You sure you don’t want me to take this one? Sweet-talk her maybe?” he teased.

You shot him a look. “You think Judge Holloway is the type to be charmed? Plus, you’re a private investigator, not a lawyer.”

“She’s not gonna like you showing up this late.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “If she’s still up, she’ll make time for this.”

Taking a steadying breath as you stopped in front of the door, you quickly ran through your notes, making sure you had every detail in order. Then, without hesitation, you pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Judge Evelyn Holloway’s chambers.

Inside, the judge barely glanced up from her paperwork. “You have two minutes, Woodvale.”

Stepping forward, you set the warrant request on the desk. “Your Honor, I apologize for the late hour, but we have a child abduction case we’re working against the clock. A young girl, Katie Jacobs, was taken from a mall over three hours ago. We’ve obtained surveillance footage showing her walking with an individual—someone she likely knows. We believe the family is withholding information, and they’ve refused to allow us to search the residence.”

The judge narrowed his eyes, folding her hands on the desk. “And what do you propose I do about it? What evidence do you have to warrant a search?”

Alex kept her voice steady. “We have footage of the girl with someone who wasn’t a stranger, Your Honor. The parents are refusing cooperation, and the father was evasive when asked about possible affairs, which raises red flags about his involvement.”

Holloway sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s thin.” You were ready for that.

“I have the full footage from the mall security, including a timestamp showing the precise time the girl went missing. She is last seen walking calmly with someone she knows, most likely family.”

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you thought you were about to lose her. So you pulled Reid’s words from memory, adjusting them just enough to make them your own.

“Time is working against us. Statistics show that 99% of abducted children who are murdered lose their lives within the first 24 hours 75% within just the first three. And only law enforcement-”

She cut you off with a raised hand, signaling you to stop.

The judge exhaled through her nose, it was late and you were rambling about statistics and you knew she wanted you out as soon as possible when you started citing numbers. So pushing himself out of her chair with a slight groan. “Fine. Get me the paperwork. I’ll sign it—but you better have your ducks in a row.”

You nodded, her demeanor unflinching. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hours ahead of you. But you were used to this—fighting against the clock.

“Let’s move,” motioning to Austin. He gave you a small nod. “You got it.”

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Exactly 15 minutes after the call, 5 minutes earlier than promised, Morgan’s phone rang. He answered it without even looking.

"You got your warrant. I'll meet you there," Alex’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, just as expected.

Morgan exhaled, his relief barely hidden. "Thank you, Woody."

He paused for a moment before adding, "I owe you one," then hung up, turning to Reid.

“Tell Hotch we’re heading to the Jacobs’ house,” he instructed, already moving toward the door.

Spencer had been timing her. It wasn’t the first time he'd gotten caught up in the tense waiting game of law and order, but the pressure of it had a different weight today. The memory of your voice, clear and resolute, echoed in his mind, sharper than before.

For Reid, part of getting clean wasn't just the physical withdrawal—it was the emotional weight of confronting his mistakes. The memory of how he'd lashed out at you a year ago still haunted him. How could he have been so cruel? The hurt in your eyes, the way he dismissed you, the way it all spiraled… it wasn’t just the drugs that had made him say those things. And the fury he saw when you looked at him, Dialuid in hand, how you looked like a timing bomb when he was trying to see if he could talk to you, the tension in your shoulders, the lock in your jaw, the grip on the file. He’d been battling so much more since then, in his mind, you saved his life by doing what he couldn't do.

He’d rather die than relive that moment again, than say those things. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of another chaotic case, still carrying that guilt with him. He stayed behind Morgan for just a beat before pushing down his feelings and moving quickly.

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The engine of Austin's bike rumbled to a stop as they pulled up in front of the house, where Morgan and Reid were standing in front of the black SUV. You slid off the back with practiced ease, taking off the helmet and letting your hair fall loose.

Austin followed your lead, taking his helmet off with a groan. “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

You shot him a quick, sidelong glance, handing him the helmet, keeping your expression flat knowing he’s about to be a drama queen. “You’re not coming inside. The warrant’s for FBI and police only. Not P.I.s included”

Austin paused, a mock pout crossing his face. “Excuse me? I just got you here, through all that traffic, risking myself to get a speeding ticket and now I don’t get to search? This is the second time in the night that you P.I. shaming me. Do you hate me?”

“If I hated you I wouldn’t have bailed your ass out of jail… twice” you remark the last part. He had a talent for sticking his foot where he shouldn’t be, maybe that’s what makes him good at his job.

“You act like you wouldn’t do it a third time” he was mocking, but he was right, something you would never admit to him.

You start walking to the house “Mhm.” you hum rolling your eyes, heading towards where Morgan and Reid were.

You didn't expect him to be there, or maybe you did, maybe you wanted to see him and know what had happened to him since the last time you saw him. They were looking at you, Morgan with a curious already-profiling-you stare, while Reid expression was more… cautious. He looked so different, his cheekbones were prominent in an attractive way and not sickly, he had put on some healthy weight and was not fidgety. You were not mad anymore, because of course at the moment the hurt had turned into rage like it always does for you, but it was more because of phantoms than anything else.

“Got your golden ticket” you said, avoiding Reid’s gaze as you pulled the warrant from the inner pocket of your gray coat and swung it toward them.

Morgan nodded “You staying?” He gestured with his head to Austin who was leaving.

“I have to make sure you find something, otherwise the judge will have my head for this,” you said dryly, shrugging as though the threat didn’t bother you, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind your words. You were only talking to him, which felt rude because Reid’s stare was locked in your profile.

Reid was thinking how pretty you looked, how the black vest suited you, and he couldn’t ignore the fact you had changed your brown bag to a black one that looked nothing like his. Your white shirt and gray coat gave you an older, wiser look, but as Reid analyzed your features, he realized he didn’t even know how old you were. You couldn’t be older than him. Serious, sharp, and young... How was it possible for someone that young to be the A.D.A.?

Reid’s mind couldn’t let go of the numbers. The average age of an Assistant District Attorney in the U.S. is 36. You couldn’t be older than 25, and yet you were already in that position.

You glanced at him for a moment before stepping inside the house, feeling the weight of his stare. The look made him snap out of his trance-like state, and of course, his eidetic memory hated him, because for that brief second, he remembered how you had looked at him a year ago.

Morgan nodded and thanked you again before he and Reid walked into the house. You left the warrant on the hall table with a deliberate touch, your fingers lingering for just a moment—as if to remind yourself that you weren’t entirely done with this.

“Somebody lit a fire last night,” you heard Reid say.

“Well, there are dirty dishes for three in the kitchen, so they eat together as a family.” Morgan’s voice carried from the other room as they moved through the house, taking in the details.

If Katie was in danger, the signs wouldn’t be in plain sight. You had to look where they hid—where children kept their secrets. Their bedrooms.

“Hey, my favorite movie from when I was a kid.” Reid held up a DVD, turning it in his hands before pulling it from the player just as you passed by him, tugging on latex gloves before heading upstairs, you did feel a little guilty for not even looking or talking to him, but it was something you did unconsciously.

“So they watch movies together, too,” Morgan mused. They were starting to build a picture of the family’s dynamic.

“By a fireplace in a house that’s straight out of a catalog,” Reid added. “Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier.”

“That’s what worries me.” There was weight in Morgan’s voice. A tension that sat between them.

Upstairs, you searched through the rooms with careful precision.

When you first became a lawyer, you made a promise—never ignore a sign. Since then, you have gone further. You didn’t just refuse to ignore them; you searched for them. Hollow eyes. Unexplained bruises. Small bloodstains. You looked for them in teenagers, in young adults, in the elderly. But nothing—nothing—was more painful than a child who couldn’t speak up.

Because they were small. Because someone older, someone stronger, was hurting them. There's nothing more hurtful than not being able to speak out, to say something and stand up for yourself. Except when someone did—someone saw the bruises, the fear, the signs—and they looked away deliberately. Because a child’s pain was inconvenient. Because it came with a mountain of paperwork no one wanted to touch.

You had spent your whole life making sure you never looked away.

That’s why you were hunched over the small desk in Katie’s bedroom, flipping through her drawings when Morgan and Reid entered the room. They started searching, their movements efficient and methodical.

“Katie’s been wetting her bed,” Reid said as he lifted the duvet, inspecting the mattress beneath it.

“A lot of six-year-olds do. Could be bad dreams,” Morgan replied, crouching beside you as he sifted through a pile of toys.

You considered that possibility—it was perfectly logical. In a perfect world.

“Some kids won’t get up at night because they’re afraid of the dark,” Reid added, his tone careful. Almost knowing.

“Or it could be a lot more complex than that.”

Morgan had found a doll. Not a Barbie missing a shoe or one that had simply been played with too much. No—this doll was different.

Its hair had been hacked off, jagged strands sticking out unevenly. Red marker smeared across its face like smeared blood. Its clothes were yanked askew, twisted, and wrong.

“Most girls covet their dolls like an extension of themselves.” He took the doll in his hands like it was made of fine glass.

“Reid, I know these signs-— acting out on her toys, wetting the bed. She's obviously covering up something about that necklace.”

“And her cousin might be holding something back.”

“Well, this looks more like a man than a boy to me,” you said, holding up a drawing of a tall, shadowy figure towering over a small, crying child.

Morgan took it from your hands, his expression hardening as he analyzed the image.

“Psychology says drawing is a child’s way of channeling their inner world. Look at the strokes—how harsh they are,” you pointed to the dark, jagged lines forming the tall figure, then traced your finger over the smaller one. “And this looks like Katie to me. She forgot to draw the hands, which means she feels powerless… helpless.”

Morgan took his phone out, dialing up “Hotch, we think Katie’s being molested,” Morgan said, his voice clipped. “And we both know the odds.”

A brief silence. Then Hotch’s response, firm and certain. “Most likely by someone under the same roof.”

He hung up, and both men started toward the door, their movements brisk with purpose. But you stayed behind for a moment, rooted in place, taking in the scene. Trying to quiet the distant sirens that echoed in your mind, the same ones always shouting when you were face to face with these situations. A loud pause—maybe out of respect for Katie and her pain, for everything she had been forced to endure.

From the doorway, Spencer glanced back. The dim light from the hallway cast your figure in stark contrast, outlining you in shadow—your form dark against the soft glow of the room. He couldn’t see your expression, couldn’t read your face. He focused on the way your hands curled into fists at your sides, the tight set of your shoulders.

And he wished—just for a second—that he could see more.

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You stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over your chest. By your side were Morgan, Jeremy, Katie’s cousin, and Reid.

Turns out, Katie’s uncle, Richard, was her abuser. A disgusting son of a bitch who deserved to rot in hell. And you were going to make sure he did. He had destroyed Katie’s childhood, probably more than just hers, shattering an entire family in the process. His own son, standing right next to you, was collateral damage he clearly hadn’t spared a thought for. And then there was his wife. The woman who had chosen to look away. Who had taken Katie and nearly gotten her killed, all for the pathetic, desperate hope that it would somehow stop her husband from creeping into little bedrooms at night. She deserved the same hell he did.

A stretcher rolled past, Katie’s small frame barely visible beneath the blankets as the paramedics guided her into the ambulance. Her mother clutched her tiny hand, whispering something—words meant to soothe, to promise safety.

A young voice cut through the air. “I heard her call my mom’s name. That’s what I remembered before.”

You closed your eyes, your mind already racing ahead. Your attorney brain was piecing it together, sketching out the battle that was coming. If the kid had heard it, that made him a witness to the abduction. His own mother had committed the crime against her niece. And God only knew what else he had seen—what else had been happening in that house—without fully understanding it.

“We get it, kid. That’s your mom,” Morgan said, his voice steady. But you knew the truth: if Jeremy could barely say those words to them, getting him to the stand in front of a jury would be another fight entirely.

The boy shifted on his feet, staring at the ambulance. “What’s gonna happen to me now?”

If God existed, He had already been too cruel. He had let all of this happen. And you knew how these things worked—knew there was a very real chance that Katie’s parents, burdened with their own grief, would resent Jeremy by association. That they wouldn’t take him in. That he would be swallowed by the foster system.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

The sirens blared outside the mall, cutting through the air with urgency, but it was the ones inside your mind that were louder—screaming in the same rhythm, as if they were one and the same. Distant and deafening, they filled every corner of your head, drowning out everything but the grim reality unfolding before you.

“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Reid answered, his voice gentle. “But we’re gonna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ambulance. “Is Katie gonna be all right?”

You wished—desperately, violently—that you could tell him yes. That you could say it with certainty and make it true. But how could you give him something you didn’t have?

“She will, eventually,” Morgan said, his voice firm.

You exhaled sharply. The words made your skin crawl.

“Is she?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it—low, bitter, nearly spat out under your breath. Just quiet enough that the kid wouldn’t hear. Just loud enough that Morgan did.

Before he could respond, you were already moving.

Your feet carried you toward the police car, toward the sick, selfish bastard they were shoving into the backseat. Your hand shot out, slamming the door closed—harder than necessary, just enough that it cracked against Richard’s face.

Morgan watched. So did Spencer.

And for the first time, he realized just how much of a puzzle you really were.

Partially because, throughout all of this, you hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he entered the room, not when he spoke, not even now, standing just a few feet away.

Partially because your eyes, when he finally caught a glimpse of them, were full of something he rarely saw outside of a case like this. Pure, undiluted rage.

Not just anger. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something personal.

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Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

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ao3-shenanigans · 3 days ago

Note

I am so excited that my little self-indulgent self-insert fic disguised as an x reader fic has like... 100 hits, 10 kudos, and like 4 comments from people other than me replying to them. One of my favorite fic authors in the niche I write for has been commenting and complimenting me on the way I write, and that's the biggest thing fueling me to post more. We're at around 11k words as of yesterday, and I've got one follower on here who replies and likes and reblogs any time I post, and I only started a couple weeks ago. I've been away from fandom culture for like a decade, and I'm so happy to be back and actually seen ❤️😭

Just felt like sharing in case anyone out there feels like their ideas are too niche (there are 51 fics in my niche on AO3, including mine) or like people won't find or read them. PLEASE know that there are people CHOMPING AT THE BIT to get a CRUMB of new content, and while it may not be immediate, your people WILL find you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Oh my gosh that’s so sweet!! I’m so glad you’re having such a positive time!!

You are so right! It might take a while but there’s definitely a fan out there searching for your niche!

#ao3 #ao3 shenanigans ask #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #writing #♥️ao3 shenanigans nice things

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whoops-all-jennas · 2 days ago

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Final Duet pt. 2 - c.s.

Cairo Sweet x fem!reader

"My thoughts will follow you into your dreams."

Summary: You give Cairo the violin part of the duet before spending time together at your house.

a/n: Inspired by Omori, if you haven't played it, do. The story is beautiful. There will be no spoilers in this so don't worry about that :)

Warning: Bullying, Homophobia, Death

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part. 4?

I watch out the window of my final class period as the first snowflake of January falls to the cold earth. It has now been a couple months since I've started receiving violin lessons from you, and I've been improving quickly.

The bell rings, causing everyone to grab all their belongings to go watch the first snow fall. I grab my backpack, leaving after everyone else.

I walk down the empty hallway to the music room, finding you humming that ever familiar tune while leaning against the wall.

You turn your head to the sound of my footsteps. "Hey, Cairo."

You look at me with that patient smile that I will never get over. "I was thinking we could practice at my place, I want to enjoy the snow for a minute."

I nod, instinctively. "Yeah that's fine."

I've never been to Y/n's house, so I'm a little nervous.

"Oh! Before I forget." You start digging into your bag, bringing out a piece of paper.

You hold out a piece of sheet music. "It's the violin part in the duet I wrote. I think you've improved enough to learn it."

I grab the sheet music, staring at the notes on the page. "I- Thank you, Y/n."

I find your smile infectious. "Let's get to my place so you can start practicing it."

The snow gently falls as we walk down the street, your head facing the sky, admiring weather. "I've always loved the snow, brings a sort of liveliness to the dead winter."

I find myself admiring your joyous face, distracted by the snow. "It is nice."

You look down at the sidewalk, stepping over the cracks. "I was thinking maybe we could hold a recital. Nothing too big, but I think it could be fun and exciting."

I find myself silent for a moment, thinking about the idea.

"Did you want to perform your duet?" I ask, also watching my step.

You nod. "It would be nice to have a small audience to listen to what I've made."

We start approaching a small humble home that has a makeshift green house on the side. "Welcome to my house."

You start to follow the concrete path. "Let's put our stuff down, and I'll show you around."

We walk into the cozy yet silent house. I look around, unable to hide my smile when I see a picture of you as a child. "It's very homey."

You put your backpack up by the door.

"Thanks, I also really like it." You look out the window to the greenhouse. "Do you wanna see my garden?"

We open the door to the greenhouse, the warmth contrasting the cold winter air. You walk to a pot containing a rose bush. "This was one my first plants I started growing here."

You crouch down near to the flower, gently touching the petals. "I'm envious of roses. They're so universally loved, yet aren't afraid to stand up for themselves."

You glide your finger across one of the thorns, gently enough to feel how sharp it is, but not sharp enough to cut.

I watch you as you admire the roses, wishing you'd look at me the same way.

You stand, guiding me to the next flower. "This one is called Lily of the Valley, I'm a big fan of their bell shape."

I watch as your eyes become lost in the plant. "It's said that they're able to ward off evil spirits and help people see a brighter future."

Your eyes look into mine. "I guess in that way, they remind me of you."

I find myself taken aback by your sudden compliment.

You look down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "If you want to consider those two people who tease me evil spirits."

You stand, walking to a white flower that is shaped like wings. Some of them are wilting. "These are white egret orchids. They're a bit difficult to take care of, but it just reminds me that life is fragile and I should cherish every moment."

You're silent for a moment, admiring your plants once again. "In the language of flowers, it symbolizes the phrase. My thoughts will follow you into your dreams."

I watch as you grab a watering can. "That's beautiful, Y/n."

You respond a patient smile. "Want me to show you how I take care of them?"

After some time passes, we find our way back inside your house. We ascend the staircase up to your room.

You open the door, revealing a room decorated with incandescent string lights and fake vines. "It's nothing crazy, a little stereotypical even."

I take a few steps past the doorway. "It's very, you."

There's a book on your bed labelled 'memories.'

"I thought I threw that out, my mom must've pulled it out of the trash can." You say while picking it up, mixed feelings on you face as you open past the cover to reveal multiple Polaroids of you and your previous friends.

A smile finds your face as you reminisce. You sit down on the bed, patting the space next to you.

I take a seat, looming over your shoulder as you point at one of the pictures. It contained you holding a plate of funnel cake while your friends held prizes from different attractions. "We all went to a carnival that was being held in town, I was clearly more interested in the treats over the games."

You move your finger to a different polaroid. "And here we had a picnic one night, we put fairy lights on the trees above us. It was a magical time."

You exhale a deep breath as you close the book, standing to put it back on your shelf. "That's enough reminiscing, I'll have to thank my mom for pulling that out of the trash."

We leave your bedroom, walking through the doorway. As we near the stairs, I nearly trip over a bit of a wooden tile sticking up a bit off the ground.

You grab my wrist, preventing me from falling "Be careful! My mom said she'd fix that months ago, but hasn't gotten around to it yet."

Blush mixed with your touch and embarrassment find my face.

You precariously step over the dangerous bump on the floor to descend the staircase.

We navigate to a different room downstairs that has a piano, music stands, and a violin on display.

You set up a couple of music stands and seats. "Ready to learn our song?"

I approach my seat, pausing at your words. "Our song?"

"Yeah, why not? I don't really want anyone else learning it. The song has gained a lot more meaning to me because of you." Your sheet music finds the music stand before your glance shifts to mine, a smile on your face. "I can't say I met anyone else who I barely knew who suddenly started learning a whole instrument for me."

You stand, picking up the violin on display. It's much nicer than the ones at the school. "Are you ready?"

A couple hours breeze by, the sound of strings fill the silent house as the sun starts to set beyond the window. The golden light highlighting your eyes.

You turn towards the window, staring at the falling snow. "What if we take a break for now? I kinda wanna do something out in the snow. If you're down for that."

I follow your gaze, watching the snow reflect the golden rays before standing. "Let's do it."

You stand, a smile stretching across your face as you hold your hand out.

I find a hint of blush on my face as I reach out, interlocking our fingers. Your hand holds mine with a gentle, comforting warmth. I hope you find the same comfort in mine.

We step out the door, the cold breeze finding it's way through my winter clothes. You release your hand from mine, the cold instantly replacing your warmth.

You bend over, grabbing a hunk of snow off the ground and forming a sphere. I watch you for a moment, admiring your smile. I bend over to do the same, following your motions as you start to roll it on the ground.

It's clear you have much more experience at this than I, as you manage to make a snowball up to around your hips. You roll your snowball by the doorway. "Do you need help putting yours on top?"

I nod as I roll it closer. We both bend down, lifting the snowball on top of the other. It ends up being to the height of my upper arm.

"I'll be right back!" You say excitedly, running inside.

The clouds above us are beginning to fade to shades of purples and pinks as the sun continues to set.

You run back outside, carrying a box of random winter clothes. I find myself smiling at your excitement. You grab a scarf out of the box, wrapping it around what is supposed to be the neck of the snowman.

"You gonna help?" You ask, smugly.

I come back to reality. "Yeah, sorry." I find myself rushing towards the box.

We both take a step back, admiring our creation.

You rush back to the box, grabbing a camera you managed to sneak outside.

I watch your figure, emanating with joy, as you practically tackle me as your wrap your arm around my shoulder, soon met the flash of a camera.

A picture prints out the bottom, the photo still needing time to develop.

You stare at the blank square for a moment, smiling while holding it out towards me. "I want you to have it."

I find myself staring the picture, trying to see if I can watch it develop as you begin to walk away for a moment, next moment I'm met with a snowball to the face.

"Y/n!" I shout, rubbing it off my face

You giggle as I gently place the picture in the box, reaching for the snow beneath me to challenge back.

"Ahh!" You cower your face behind your arms as I throw a snowball back. I don't give you a moment to recover, quickly making another.

As you begin to bend over, my snowball meets the top of your head, getting snow all over your hair. You drop your partially finished one, brushing my shattered snowball off your head.

By the time you're done, another snowball manages to meet your face.

"Okay! okay! I surrender!" You shout through your chattering teeth, raising your hands above your head with a smile.

I can't help but find your smile infectious. "I think that's our que to get back inside."

You cross your arms over your chest, shivering. "That's probably a good idea."

The sound of a fire crackling fills the lounge as we sit in front of a fireplace. You're motioning your hands towards the flames as I hold a warm mug of hot chocolate.

Your arms stop shivering as I release one of my hands from the mug, grabbing the picture you took earlier. You have a wide smile, looking at the lens with excited eyes, while my face is flushed red. The photo fuzzy but it adds to the character.

I find myself smiling at the photo, soon met with your head suddenly dropping onto my shoulder.

I freeze in place at the sudden contact, I look back at your head turned to see me from my shoulder.

"Is this okay?" You ask, staring at me longingly.

I nod, causing you to smile while turning your head to the fire. It doesn't take too long before your breathing slows as you fall asleep.

I take a moment to admire how cute you are while asleep before staring at the picture one more time.

a/n: poll is complete! I will bare minimum complete the Cairo one. If I still want to write another version with Tara I'll likely do that at some point, will probably be awhile though.

#cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet x y/n #cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x you #cairo sweet x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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keeper-of-sparkly-things · 1 day ago

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swr wof crossover au

Exactly five people have shown interest so i have taken that as permission to talk about this a little

(All of the art is not mine, its commissioned from my sister who does not have a tumblr, heres her youtube instagram and deviantart if you want to look at more of her stuff)

Anyway this idea spawned in discord when me and my friends were talking about how there are too few mythical creature aus of starwars and especially rebels and so i jokingly mentioned that someone could do a wings if fire au. It has since consumed my brain. Have some thoughts

Spectre 1, Kanan Jarrus

This guy is a leafwing. Thought process was “He’s green. Connected to the living force. And it would be cool” He is an animus, like all jedi will be in this au. He is one of very few pantalan dragons that have ever been an animus. His backstory isn’t that much different in canon, he ends up in the scorpion den with Hera. He also happens to have fairly strong leafspeak, though it doesn't see much combative action in the desert. At the time rebels starts he is about 11 dragon years old, at the time the empire rose he was 6 dragon years old.

Spectre 2 Hera Syndulla

Hera is a silkwing/sandwing hybrid. Since silkwings were almost entirely slaves or something similar in arc 3, and since twi’leks are the most slaves in starwars, i decided to make her a silkwing, and also because shes pretty. However, a friend said she had strong queen Thorn vibes and so now shes a hybrid sandwing who happens to work with the rebellion in the scorpion den. She has regular silk and also a tail barb, though it is smaller than other sandwings, but its still just as dangerous. Around the time rebels starts she is a little less than ten dragon years old, when the empire rose she was almost 5.

Spectre 3 Chopper

He is actually a little animus enchanted wooden octopus. Basically a while ago an animus decided animus’s were too powerful and purposefully nerfed the entire system, including things like you can enchant living things including the spellcaster, as such, animated carvings and such became fairly common, as they were technically nit alive but could still move as if they were. Think Blob from darkstalker except chopper has the side effect of being much more violent since he was separated from his creator. Hera found him in some ruins during the clone wars. No one knows how old he is.

Spectre 4 Garazeb Orrelios

This guy is just a normal icewing because theres a sad lack of purple icewings in wof canon. And also icewings and nightwings have had a rivalry since forever (i know that was supposed to be fixed in arc two but i needed a reason for a nightwing king to be willing to wipe of a large chunk of a tribe and palpatine in nothing without his ability to hold grudges over things he wasn’t even alive for that dont matter anymore) in this au he is still a captain of a guard, but it isn’t The royal guard (since theres only ten dragon tribes but hundreds of starwars species so we cant just entirely eliminate one dragon tribe with it being a much bigger problem than just the lasat) It is the biggest city besides the one where the royal family lives, and a lot of lesser nobility and a fair chunk of the icewing army, including where they train the new recruits is there. After it gets destroyed (there were Rumors that the nobility of the city were in league with rebellion, so if course the empire decided to go to the extreme and kill literally everyone who lived there) Zeb then goes into hiding in the Scorpion Den, thinking the desert would be the last place they would look for a reputable icewing, and there he meets kanan and hera. They recruit him by fighting imperials together and saving him from death by dehydration. He would have been 20 when the empire rose and 25 by the start of rebels. (@kanerallels has actually made this fic of him meeting kanan and hera go check it out if you haven’t please)

Spectre 5 Sabine Wren

Shes a rainwing. In Darkstalker and in the guide to a dragon world, they are mentioned to be widely feared assassins. Queen Glory wanted the rainwings to not be useless in a fight so she taught some of them to fight. The group that learned to fight took it too far and became the mandalorians, and sabine having been a bounty hunter at some point in canon, and also liking to express herself through her outward appearance, this is what i landed on. All her armor is enchanted by kanan to blend in with her scales when shes trying to be stealthy. This is what eventually persuaded her to join them. She was 1 when the empire rose and is 6 when rebels starts.

Spectre 6 Ezra Bridger

He is a silkwing hivewing hybrid. In the books these tribes seem to be more purposefully agricultural than the other tribes, being the only ones (i think) that have gardens for food instead of decoration, and they also have greenhouses, and lothal is a farming planet. Pantala is also a good out of the way grassland that doesn’t immediately have the attention of the empire, which is very convenient for him since he’s basically the most illegal person to ever exist. Unregistered child (illegal under the empire) who is also a hybrid (also illegal) descendent of a flamesilk (illegal when unregulated) and an animus (illegal period under the empire) and happens to have both abilities(because hes my favorite and i can do whatever i want), as well as a tail barb meant for paralyzing others, though both his flamesilk and his tail barb are significantly weaker than the average because of hybrid genetics. (His tail can barely paralyze tiny dragonets and prey and doesn’t work on bigger things without enhancement, and unless he purposely uses his hottest silk its not hot enough to actually burn most dragons) his parents did work with the rebellion on pantala, but because an emergency they traveled to pyrrhia and brought ezra with them because he was to dangerous to leave alone but were attacked and imprisoned halfway across the ocean, leaving ezra alone, and being like 2 years old at the time, lost his sense of direction and wandered to pyrrhia instead of pantala (bridges were built at some point connecting the continents by the islands) it should be known that he has no idea hes an animus at this point and thinks hes just really good at disguises and everyone else is just very dumb, when in reality hes like enchanting a poncho to make him look like a non hybrid and other accessories to make him look different by accident. He eventually wanders over to the scorpion den and causes a LOT of chaos which led to the ghost crew finding and adopting him. He was born on the first empire day and was about 4.5 years old when rebels starts. (If you want some angst he grows his wings right after malachor and kanan completely misses it)

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jollyhunter · 4 hours ago

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Intro: 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ! 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 aka . ☆.´☽¸.❝ 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 ❞.¸☽´.☆ .

🐺 leader│strict│over-protective│rough│loyal│dominant

🐺 Age Gap! Dean's in his early 40s - Reader's in their late 20s.

🐺 Dean is the leader of a Special Ops Squad called "Hunters".

🐺 Dean's official codename is "Bad Wolf".

🐺 Sam is a leading figure of the Supernatural Special Forces Research Division.

🐺 The supernatural world has been recognized as an official threat to humanity decades ago already. They work more subtle and aim to infiltrate society from all ends. (AU)

🐺 Squad Leader ! Dean is a bit rougher, a bit more hardened and (seemingly) callous.

🐺 Dean’s always either light bearded or full bearded. And a little banged up from the missions.

🐺 Usually he shows up at your home still wearing his rugged gear or tactical suit, depending on his mission. And he will collapse on your couch with a split lip, bruised knuckles and aching ribs, searching for the peaceful comofort of his head resting on your lap.

🐺 Sleeves rolled back, some loose tie draped down on his wrinkled dress suit, laptop on his lap, a half-empty bottle of whiskey next to the bed. Dean’s ritual before showing up at the HQ to hand in the damn mission reports.

🐺 Sam is the man in his ear, usually assisting any mission over intercom. (And reading the latin words over the radio's speakers 'cuz Dean can't memorize them)

🐺 Reader works in Sam's team, in the Research Division. A "Paper pusher but safe job" where you "wrangle with nothing but words all day", as you've been told by Dean.

... But one day you get your chance and get recruited for an undercover mission in the field:

As the intel lead for Dean's squad.

“Are you insane? Absolutely not.” Dean grunts while he reassembles the sniper rifle, his hands moving around the table with practised ease. “It’s not debatable, okay? I’m in.” You counter with your eyebrows pinched together, hands clasped against your hips. “What?” He stares down at you, his movements on the firearm stilled in mid-air. The flash in his emerald eyes has your breath catch in your throat. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you swallow past the lump that has formed in your throat before you answer in a tight voice. “I’ve been signed up for it, Dean.” His eyebrows snap into a scowl like you’d just pulled a trigger on him. The growl in his voice sharpening each of his words as he speaks. “Not happening, not on my watch. I’ll have you removed from the team.” “What?” Your hands slide off your hips, a huff of deviance slipping you, “And on whose order, huh?” “Mine of course. I’m the damn leader of the squad after all.” Dean replies, his tone rising slightly to match your challenging tone. His hands go back to click and shove the parts into place, his eyes returned to the armoury. Your jaw clenches and you suck in a breath before you interject, “But-“ “I said no.” He cuts you short in a tone which would have taken the wind out of anyone’s sails. But you’re not anyone, so of course you stand your ground and step up next to him, forcing him to look at you. “What's your problem? Even Sam says I’m a crucial part of this undercover mission. You need me to get in!” You argue in a firm way, your hands back on your hips and back straightened in a futile attempt to match his authoritarian presence. “Sammy submitted your application?” His eyes narrow and a muscle jumps at his jaw, “Oh, I’ll give him a piece of my mind. And fists.” He snarls, his anger and frustration emphasized by the cold CLING that echoes through the walls as the completed firearm hits the metal table. “No- wait, Dean- please, for the love of it-” You sigh heavily. He’s not gonna like this part. But getting Sam out of the line of fire was only fair. You clear your throat while you scramble after him, “It was my idea. I applied for the job.” Dean stops dead in his tracks, turning around slowly to face you with a look of disbelief and something which you can only interpret as a hint of concern. “…You kiddin’, right?”

A/N: It took me some time to figure out what AU would fit best for the vibe of this new Dean x Reader relationship dynamic. Ultimately one of my favourite episodes, "2.12 Nightshifter" and song "Renegade" by Styx, as well as the pics I've seen of "Atomic Monster" made me go for a more action themed AU!

Also excuse my aesthetics being all over the place? I’m still figuring everything out :’)

Any questions about the new pairing? The AU? You think you can handle BadWolf!Dean? 👀 Head them my way! ↠↠↠ Comment, send an ask or reblog what you like! ♡ I wish you all a wonderful Sunday sweeties!

Up next is . . .

◉ the intro of ❝ 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐕𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐧 ! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ❞ ! ◉ the couple vibe ❝ 𝐆𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐱 ❞ ◉ ...?

The road so far . . .

◉ drabble [smut! MDNI!] ❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐧 ❞

Dean tag list:

♡ @aylacavebear ♡ @jc-winchester ♡ @ambiguous-avery ♡ @bettystonewell ♡

Want to be added? Let me know in the comments!

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x female!reader #spn x reader #spn x you #spn #supernatural #spn reader insert #dom! dean winchester x reader #a/b/o dynamics #spn au #supernatural au

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crowsofdarkness · 20 hours ago

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Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The town square of Wakanda was busy with bodies getting ready for the soon arrival and as Bucky and I stood hand in hand, I could help the way my heart jumped with nerves. I was nervous for the fight and nervous to see Steve again after so long.

My hair blew with the wind as the jet made its final descent, coming to a halt in front of us. As the ramp opened, I saw my old friends ascend down. They couldn’t see us and I took it as an opportunity to sneak away from them and Bucky, the nerves becoming too much to handle. Bucky was talking with Steve so he hadn’t noticed me walk away.

Everything was happening too fast and I didn’t have the chance to stop to think about what the outcome would be.

Maybe Bucky and I could leave, let them fight this on their own. We could go back to our normal lives, something that we both deserved. This wasn’t our fight, we didn’t have to risk our lives for this.

However, I knew that when it was our fight years ago, all of these people were there to help us, no questions asked.

“Where’s Y/N?” A voice asked.

“She was right here,” Bucky said.

Coming into view, I smiled over towards my friends while giving Sam and Nat a long overdue hug. I nodded towards Wanda who was walking inside with a hurt Vision.

“How’re you doing?” Nat asked.

I nodded. “Not bad, for the end of the world.”

“What’s up Marshmallow?”

Laughing at the nickname coming from Sam, I lightly punched him in the shoulder. “You had to come along?”

“Someone has to watch his back,” Sam mentioned towards Steve.

He was already watching me with intent eyes as I walked over to him, closing the distance between us.

“I see you took my advice,” I pointed towards the beard and long hair.

Steve shrugged while wrapping his arms around me in a longing hug. I had missed the way that they felt, protecting me from anything bad.

“How are you, really?” Steve questioned, lifting my chin to look into my eyes.

“We’re fine, Steve,” I spoke quietly. “Bucky is good. He’s his old self.”

Steve nodded before looking between Bucky and I. “Mind if I steal her for a bit? Catch her up to speed?”

Bucky hesitated, only I saw it, before nodding. “Sure.”

I closed the large distance between us with a loving kiss. “Don’t worry.”

With his new fingers on my lower back, he pressed his lips against mine once again, this time longer and deeper.

“I love you,” he muttered against them.

“I love you too.”

“You look like hell,” I noticed Sam as we all stood in the middle of Shuri’s lab.

A very familiar place to me.

“Well the motels weren’t exactly five stars,” Sam admitted with a small laugh.

I then nodded towards Bruce and Nat, who themselves were having a private conversation.

“Talk about awkwardness, huh?”

Sam laughed again. “You have no idea.”

“Y/N.”

Excusing myself from Sam, I walked over towards Steve, who was standing in front of a large window, looking down towards the fields of Wakanda.

“Does everything make sense?” He asked.

“Yeah, as crazy as it sounds.” I said

“And you’re ready for it?” He asked again, motioning towards my hands. “Bucky mentioned that you haven’t used it for awhile.”

I grasped my hands together with a sigh. “I wanted something normal for us. To be honest, I don’t even know if it still works. I haven’t found a reason to get mad lately.”

“With what’s coming, I think it would be best to get mad,” Steve suggested.

Silence fell between us and I was going to walk away from him but his hand in mind stopped me.

“Can you promise me something?”

I nodded.

“Promise that no matter what comes, that you take care of yourself first. Don’t worry about Buck or I. I can’t deal if something would happen to you,” Steve admitted while gently cupping my cheek.

Licking my dry lips at the warmth of his glove, I nodded again.

“Only if you do something for me,” I spoke.

“Anything,” he breathed.

“If something does happen to me, make sure he moves on. I don’t want him to dwell on it. He deserves to be happy,” I said with a shaky breath.

Steve hesitated for a moment before nodding, letting out a large breath.

“But it’s not going to come to that, right?”

Tearing myself away from Steve’s sad gaze, I looked towards Natasha and nodded.

“Can she do it?” I asked, changing the subject and walking away from Steve.

The questionable outcome weighed heavy on my mind but there was always one thing that was clear. If something were to happen to me, whatever it was, I needed to make sure that Bucky moved on. He couldn’t dwell on me or what happened. It was true what I told Steve; Bucky deserved to be happy, even if I had passed.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded from above us, shaking the castle. I looked around everyone in the room before my eyes landed finally on Steve, a knowing look on his face.

“They’re here,” I said.

“Get this man a shield!” T’challa pointed towards Steve before shouting more directions to others.

“Bucky,” I muttered while leaving the room and sprinting outside the castle.

Bucky and Sam were standing in the middle of the town center, staring up towards the sky.

Gunshots rain down on us but thankfully they couldn’t break the barrier that was protecting us.

“God, I love this place,” Bucky admitted.

“You guys alright?” I questioned while standing in between them.

Sam nodded. “How’re they doing up there?”

“It’s going to take awhile for Shuri to recreate a stone,” I admitted.

We watched in slight horror when ships came from the sky, landing right outside the protective dome.

“Cap, we’ve got a situation out here.” I said into my com.

The grass flattened beneath my boots as we stood on the open field, preparing ourselves for the fight.

“Doll?”

I looked over to Bucky. “Hm?”

Without saying a word, handed me one of his guns, silently knowing that I wasn’t quite ready to use my powers.

“Be careful,” he said.

“You too,” I spoke while lacing our fingers together.

My attention was averted from Bucky as I shook my fingers, trying to bring the spark to life, but groaned in defeat.

I never would have thought that when I decided to not use them any more that it would backfire. Now would be the perfect time to be able to use them.

“Did they surrender?” I asked Steve as he returned to his spot next to me.

T’challa, Nat, and him walked down to the edge of the barrier, trying to talk to the alien species.

“Not exactly,” he sighed.

Suddenly, thousands of aliens came from the ships, running towards the barrier that was protecting us, killing themselves in the process.

“They’re killing themselves,” I muttered.

The few that made it through, alive, charged towards us and without a second thought, all of us raised our weapons to prepare for war.

Bucky and I shot bullets towards the aliens that made it close to us. I knew, deep down, that no matter how many bullets we had or knives I used, it wouldn’t be enough.

“You know, Y/N, now would be a perfect time to toast these fuckers,” Sam’s voice came through the com in my ear.

“You don’t think I’ve tried!” I yelled. “It’s not working!”

A simple snap of the fingers and nothing.

“What’s stopping them from trying to enter behind us?” I asked Steve, when I noticed the aliens running around the barrier.

“We need to open the barrier,” T’challa stated.

Looking between Steve and Bucky, two men who I would protect with my heart and knowing they would do the same for me.

“We’re with each other till the end, right?” I asked them both.

“Always,” Steve spoke.

“Forever, doll.” Bucky gave a quick kiss to the side of my head.

With a loud war cry, our army charged forward as T’challa gave the order to open the barrier. Thousands of aliens sprinting towards us.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes #vaz prizrak bucky barnes

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drunkwithmouthwash · 3 days ago

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There was something that made me think for a while: if she was first intended to be Anya's partner, how u came up with the idea of her being with jimbob at some point? I would like to know bc there's a big gap there n all. I mean, a healthy to unhealthy gap. It made me curious abt the reasoning! Also I didn't rb before your post sorry for that 😩

(Sorry for late response dear)

I guess that decision was affected by my own personal feelings towards the characters during the creative process :’) The first time I watched a let’s play of MW, I was left feeling very protective of Anya and I HATED Jim with a burning passion. So, originally, Sammy was gonna be an ex-military, roughed and kinda buff, and she was going to protect Anya (here’s a rough sketch I made of that, plz don’t mind the anatomy or flawed perspective, I was experimenting 🤣)

But as days went by… You know, I kept having MW in the brain, and started to realize that the one that had actually made a VERY PROFOUND IMPACT on me had been Jim. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and thinking about him would make me so angry. Like, I really, REALLY FUCKING HATED him. But it got to a point in which I was like “…Wow. I don’t know how long it’s been since a character has made me feel something so intensely.” And then I started to appreciate him more for the character and the villain that he is. He is SO WELL DONE, like I bow down to Wrong Organ. So… little by little, love started to bloom from that hatred, and I wanted to use Sammy to express those feelings :’3 (Don’t be fooled tho, the love and hate I feel for him go hand in hand and neither replaces the other. I still hate him for his actions in the game and rejoice whenever I see fanarts of him getting what he deserves, lawfully or violently, but I love him as a character all the same, and who am I kidding? I do find him physically attractive, he’s my type lmao).

Now, in regards to Jim and Sammy’s relationship, I’m obviously well aware that Jim is not a sweet pea, and that if they were to be together romantically, it would be a terrible, terrible relationship. Since Sammy is a self insert, I decided to have her know better than to stay with him, and, well… that reminded me of a personal experience that I had with an ex boyfriend of mine :’) Thankfully, my ex was NOT NEARLY AS BAD as Jim (it would be like comparing a newborn tabby kitten to a full grown tiger lmao), but I still knew that he was no good for me and that I deserved better, so I broke up with him. However, I was still so madly in love with him, and stayed in love with him for around 10 years 🫠 I went to therapy, “got over him”, and then cried for him again the next time I saw him. Took me a LOOOOOT to finally get over him for good, but I was able to have closure. And, well… I decided to base Sammy and Jim’s relationship on that. She knows she deserves better, and she’s not afraid to hold him accountable for the things he says and does, but deep down she’s still very much in love with him (and those feelings will ultimately doom her) YwY

Anyway, I should probably wrap this up before it keeps getting longer 😅😅 I’m so sorry

Thank you for coming to my ted talk ❤️

#hasana responds #about jammy #jammy #about Sammy #Sammy #about Hasana

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lordofmelancholy · 11 hours ago

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Arcane AU: Silent Frontiers

Guess who got a little silly. . .and accidentally created a new Timebomb AU?

Arcane: Silent Frontiers is a survival horror AU that introduces the location of Zaun as an old mining town buried deep within the heart of the Appalachian Wilderness. Now fallen into drastic disrepair following its containment as a Government Exclusion Zone, the resident’s of Zaun still trapped within the zone now must work together to survive as strange occurrences begin happening within the woods they once called home.

OVERVIEW

Zaun: Location: Appalachia. Inspired by games such as The STALKER Series, Resident Evil, Fallout 76 and even with some homages to Dead Space, Arcane Silent Frontiers story follows Ekko and Jinx, two survivor's living within the Zaun Exclusion Zone, a once a wealthy and successful mining town famous for its scenic views and vast cave networks rich in raw materials.

Once one of the suppliers for the wealthiest mines in the country, it now sits as a bleak remnant of Appalachia's history and Piltover's storied past. Since the containment of not only it but the surrounding area, Zaun has been suddenly cut off from the rest of the world. While some people start to panic, a small group of citizens tries to maintain some semblance of peace and order, while also attempting to learn the truth about the containment, the purpose behind it -- and, most importantly, how to escape it.

Arcane Silent Frontiers' story follows Ekko and Jinx, two survivor's living (and doing their best) within the Zaun Exclusion Zone. With the town now left to rot however, Ekko and Jinx now seek escape as a brewing faction war and the presence of more hostile monsters continues to grow from within the Zone almost everyday. However, peace outside the Zone may not be as concrete as many such as them hope as the ever-progressive city and last hope of Zaun, Piltover, may not be faring as well as people may dream of.

Piltover: Location: Appalachia. Inspiration: Umbrella Corp. Murkoff Corp. Ah Piltover. The industrial anchor of Appalachia, Piltover is highly recognized for the city's cultural, educational, healthcare, and technological resources, and is one of the largest cities in Appalachia. A beacon of hope for all and a cultural center that's known for its trade, craftsmanship, and forward-thinking, Piltover is thought by many to be the ideal city.

However, things are not as they seem. One disaster never comes without another. Where Volcanoes erupt, snow and cold often follow and with it come disease and famine. And where progress grow’s, so too grows wider the road to hell paved with good intentions. And nowhere is that more shown then in the underbelly and inner workings of Piltover's higher up society.

Once a city dedicated to the betterment of mankind, Piltover's idea of what the term “betterment” means, has become very obscure as of late. No thanks given due to their “partnership” with a very-ruthless cut-throat. On it’s own Piltover thrives, with influence in the productions and sales of cosmetics, chemicals, pharmaceuticals, industrial machine production, consumer products, health foods, the transportation industry and tourism.

However, Piltover’s large array of subsidiaries once often thought typical for large-scale corporations, is in actuality purposely built to cover up illegal activities- such as the development of biological weaponry for militaries across the world as well as Human Testing of many of their BOW products, no thanks in part due to NOXUS getting their fingers into everything.

NOXUS (MILITARY BRANCH) Location: ??? Inspiration: Earthgov (Dead Space) There's always a bigger fish in the sea But sometimes even the biggest fish have to watch out.

Oh Noxus, whatever would our lives be without you? Well I don't know about our lives, but I can certainly tell you that Piltover and Zaun’s world's would definitely be a lot quieter for sure without them.

NOXUS in Silent Frontier stands not so much different then it’s show-counterpart. Led still by Ambessa, they are the secondary antagonists of Silent Frontiers following the revelation that they have intended to weaponize the achievements of Piltover for their own gain, even using Zaun as a testing ground. (Because remember kids, if people say the Government would never do that, there's a chance either they already have or are thinking about doing it and just haven't done it yet.) Piltover however has since turned a blind eye to many of NOXUS’ plans solely because let's face it, money talks bullshit walks and everyone knows there's at least a few fat-cats who wouldn't give a shit about anything as long as their revenue is intact. And Noxus is a BIG spender with an interest in BOW’s and such. Throughout the story however, it’s no surprise that NOXUS is simply using Piltover for it’s own gain much like in the show; seeing Piltover as a goldmine especially after a discovery team in the city finds something in particular that piques their interest.

However, their control is waning and beginning to loosen. A couple of their top scientists are either dead (either by their hands or by the governments) or have now gone AWOL and it's only a matter of time before the screws give way and the metal bends. . . ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS: (Please note that this is not a list of all the characters in this AU. Simply just the ones I actually have idea's for. If you want i might post up things later on down the lines asking for help with others if anyone would like to shoot an idea at me. Otherwise I will chat about them off and on in posts in the future.)

Jayce and Heimerdinger The Student and the Teacher The only two remaining members of their class left now only to be survivors and reluctant heroes looking to make amends for their mistakes. One of them appears to be looking for something. . . one can only hope he finds it before it's too late. Viktor Inspiration: Michael Altman (Dead Space) He who leads The Father of Holy Union The Forced Prophet. A Reluctant man who once only sought to do good in his life. Now he is lucky enough if he even remembers his life. Though one thing is for certain. . .he remembers something clearly. . .and that is that he seems to be. . missing something. . .

Isha Inspiration: Ellie Williams (The Last of Us 1) Clementine (Telltale’s the Walking Dead) Newt (Aliens 2) Joel Miller (The Last of Us 1) A brave, albeit quiet child, Isha has grown up in this harsh world and it is all she has ever known. Wise way beyond her years and highly capable of taking care of herself and those around her, Isha finds it hard to gain attachments towards people following immense heartbreak in her life, and doesn’t believe she’ll ever find what she is missing. However the Zone is strange and much like a phoenix, beauty comes even after everything burns. . so maybe there is hope for her after all.

Additional Notes:

Mute and Partially Deaf in one ear due to Birth defects.

Still retains hearing in the left ear but is highly sensitive to loud noises; thought to be a sign of Auditory recruitment syndrome or hyperacusis. Whatever the case, loud noises will often make her miserable and jumpy.

Speaks mainly through sign language.

Actually didn’t really like Jinx when they first met despite the connection the pair apparently have, (attachment issues).

Vi Steadfast, Strong-Hearted, Strong-Willed and Strong-Headed, Vi has managed to remain a kind, caring and passionate individual who strives to live life to the fullest now that life tends to be immensely uncertain. Her demeanor is generally a sense of reserved joyous despite her apparent “brutish nature” and as such she can be very forward, having no fear of loudly proclaiming her love of being alive and how much she cares for those close to her. However, despite her relatively gentle and somewhat reserved nature, Vi is a very physical person with little-to-no reservations about getting into a brawl if provoked. She can be impulsive and easy to goad, and may lose sense and reason when confronting people she despises. Her harsh background has made her tough, but despite that she hasn't fully lost her compassion. So don't let it be fooled. Her love for those close to her is the only thing keeping her going, and she’s hoping to come out of this with a better understanding of certain people. Including her sister. . .

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Ping list for people who said they wanted to see this @ryototsukaitwoswords @2xhbergggg @reallyhappycrown @lbulldesigns (I think you said you wanted to see it, if you werent then enjoy the free ping XD)

#arcane #ekko #ekko league of legends #jinx and ekko #ekko arcane #ekkojinx #jinx #ekko x jinx #timebomb #arcane jayce #jayvik #jayce talis #heimerdinger #timebomb arcane #Arcane Silent Frontiers #arcane au #my stuff

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bluemerakis · 2 days ago

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this post is a lil different from my usual, but i’m going to be real with you all—my mental health hasn’t been the greatest as of late. with college picking up full-fledged, i’ve been super drained, and ontop of real life issues, the pressure of wanting to get works out for you all on tumblr has been taking a massive toll on me :,)

it’s really a fault owed to the pressure i put on myself, but that’s why i think i just need to take a step back while i figure out a new routine where i can balance both college and this little, passionate hobby of mine. it’s no secret i’m pursuing a difficult degree, and i’ve only consistently started posting on tumblr nov last year where i was on holiday and had all the time to devote to this app—but that’s changed now and i’ve just gotta find a way to balance things so that i’m not investing too much time into this hobby when my focus should be on my studies. so it’s all a new experience to me and it’s been a bit of a challenge to navigate now that i’ve got a fuller schedule.

i’m also sorry that ive been so awful with responding to dms, but i hope this post serves as an explanation as to why. when i’m not in the greatest state of mind, i struggle to reach out and interact with people—but i swear it’s never personal. i really do love and appreciate every single one of you and it’s a lovely part of my days getting to interact with all my moots and followers alike. and most importantly, i appreciate your endless patience with me!! i really do. i know i’m not the most consistent poster and that i don’t always release things when i said i would—but i swear i’ll try to do better in the future!!

to all the requests that have been sent through to me, know that i have started each and every one of them. i have been trying to complete them in the order from the oldest to the newest requests i’ve received, but i have no definite answer for when they’ll be released. i genuinely love all of your lovely ideas and i can’t wait until the time i get to fully bring them to life and present it to the public. i am still happy to receive requests during my break, but please just send them in with the knowledge that i do take my time with them. thank you!! <3

so long story short, i’ll be taking a break from tumblr. i’m not too sure for how long—when i figure it out, i’ll figure it out. i’ll still be hopping on every now and again to check in with my moots, but in terms of creating, i’ll have to put a pause on that. if i find the heart and energy to, i might randomly release works i’ve been busy wrapping up.

in the meantime, i hope you all remember to take care of yourselves and i’m sending my love and support to all of you who may be enduring invisible battles right now—you’re not alone and you’re so dearly loved. ❤️ i’ll see you all soon.

love, mera

#mera talks .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆. ˚#life stuff .ᐟ #personal

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ashblooddragons · 3 days ago

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Tides Of Love (Chapter 3/?)

Series Masterlist

Driftmark

105 ac

Laenas pov

I sit at the high table as each lord is announced. There is more than I thought would come, the whole of Grand Hall is filled with different lords and ladies. Some from inland such as House Baratheon, and some from Essos like a prestigious Lord from Pentos, or at least that's what Mama said when I asked why Papa was talking to the mysterious man.

Most want to talk to Mama or Papa, some want to talk to Laenor, but very few have looked at me when saying happy Nameday. Though Mama says this is normal but it doesn't make it feel any better.

I decide to look down at the dress Papa had made for me. It's a gorgeous pink that Mama says looks perfect against my warm skin. It has ruffled sheer sleeves with small white pearls all the way down to my wrists. The neck is straight or square from what Mama said to the seamstress. It has golden embroidery that seems like waves. The skirt is so poofy I can't even feel the wooden chair under me. It has layer upon layer of that sheer fabric but instead it's white and on top is a soft smooth fabric the rest of the dress is made of. From skirt to bust. I think it is one of my favorite dresses ever.

I've gotten many compliments already and Papa says more are to come.

But my favorite part of my outfit is my hair. Mama had made many small braids beading in pearls. She even braided in golden thread. And finally ahe put some animal fat that smells like oranges to lay down my baby hair so they look like little waves. It took hours but by the end I looked like a Mermaid in one of Papa’s paintings or tapestries.

When I look back up I see Nyra and Ali next to their Papa's who talk to mine. I waste no time getting out of my chair and running down the steps to see them.

Nyra is dressed in a yellow dress with long sleeves that fan out when she moves. It has some brown embroidery that I assume are to look like scales all the way down the sleeves. I can already tell she had the same idea I did, to dress like my dragon. Her hair is in two braids that go from her forehead to her middle back, I can tell they are to be like her dragons slicked back horns. There are sapphires beaded into her hair. There must be more than fifty in her hair alone and that is just from a glance. I know they are to be like Syrax's glowing blue eyes and they truly do match.

To look like Syrax's eyes no doubt. I think before taking how Ali looks.

She is in a light blue dress with short sleeves and silver embroidery of flowers along the hem of her sleeves and dress and neckline. The dress is simple but her hair is the star of the show. Many intricate braids meet to make a makeshift bun with silver thread braided in and I believe diamonds beaded into her hair.

I can tell they both put much thought into how they would look tonight, and if this is just for the opening feast what will they wear for the rest of the week's festivities?

“Laena!” Ali exclaims when she sees me rushing forward as quickly as she could while also seeming lady-like. Which is much different to how Nyra greets me, having blotted from her spot and collided into me with such force I almost tripped and fell.

But I don't mind she is always like this, she often has made me fall and scrap a knee or bruise my bum. But I know she doesn't mean to hurt me.

“Happy nameday!” She exclaims holding me tighter.

“Rhaenyra, I think Laena needs to breathe.” Ali says when she catches my pained expression from the uncomfortable way my ribs pinch.

Nyra quickly lets me go, giving me a sheepish smile. “Sorry, it's just been so long since I've seen you.”

I only nod in agreement, it's been two moons since I have seen the two of them. We send Ravens but it isn't the same.

“You look beautiful by the way, I love what you did with your hair.” Nyra says touching one of my braids.

“Thank you, my Mama did them.” I say with a smile.

“And your dress, it's so poofy!” Nyra exclaims, eyeing my dress.

I swear I saw anger in her eyes but just as quickly as it came it disappeared. I brush it off as my mind playing tricks on me but a part of me remembers Nyra doesn't like to be outshined. Ali's last nameday comes to mind. She's wearing a pretty white dress with blue gems all over her. Nyra swears it was an accident when she spilled wine all over Ali, but I don't know if I believe her.

“I think you both look beautiful, you outshine all the ladies in this room.” I exclaim, hoping this little comment will save my dress.

“Thank you, Laena.” Ali says while Nyra only smiles as she eyes my dress.

“I see we had similar ideas, you dressed like Syrax and I dressed like Brightfyre.” I say finally catching Nyra's attention again.

“I did, I was trying to figure out if you did that too. Yours is more subtle though.” She says and I swear she gives me a smug smirk that quickly disappears when our parents come over.

“I see you girls have found each other.” Ali's Mama says as she pushes some of Ali's loose hair behind her ear.

“Oh and they all look so lovely. Truly an eye-catching group.” The Queen says as she hold the King's arm and rubs her swollen belly.

I watch as Mama walks over to me running her hands down my head before looking at Ali and Nyras Mama's. “And it seems all three of their Mothers made sure they would be the most beautiful things here.”

They all three laugh before looking at us again and telling us to go sit at the high table and talk. That way they can keep an eye on us easier.

I don't know why they are so concerned about whether they can see us or not, Papa invited his friends, that should mean he trusts them, right?

But just as the thought comes, do I notice the way some of the lords look at us. It's like the way Nyra looks before she eats a lemon cake, as if a sweet treat is all but in their grasp. I quickly take Ali and Nyra's hands and practically drag them up the steps to the High table.

Maybe Papa doesn't have the best friends after all. I think before noticing the Prince staring at one of the men I noticed. He doesn't seem happy, no far from it. I watch as he slowly looks up at me before giving a nod of approval. And then he is lost in the crowd once more.

Daemons pov

I move through the crowd making my way towards Corlys who seems to be in a debate with my pink faced brother.

Gods it's only been an hour since we've arrived and he's already drunk? I think with a scowl.

“Brother, I'm afraid I need to borrow Lord Corlys.” I say not even letting the two men have a chance to respond before I grab the man by the arm and drag him out of the Great Hall.

Once the sound of chatter and music drowns out to nothing but a hum do I finally let the man go and glare at him.

“Do you know who you invited to your Daughter's nameday? Your lucky she caught on to their stares or else who knows who may have snatched her, the Princess, or the Hightower girl.” I say with such rage there is ringing in my ears.

“Yes I do Daemon. Do you think I wanted to invite them? Because if you do you obviously have mistaken me for your idiot of a brother.” Corlys hisses back.

I think about his response. Though Corlys is an ambitious man he wouldn't outright put his children, especially his daughter in harms way. And though I hate to think it, my brother would put his daughter in harms way unknowingly just to please some lord or two. Which leads to the question of why he invited these Invalides in the first place.

“Then why, why invite them if you don't want them in reach of your little girl?” I ask calmer now.

“I am a sailor Daemon, I make trades with men you wouldn't believe. And at times to keep good relations I must let them into my home. I must let them celebrate and see all that Driftmark has to offer. Why do you think I have so many guards in that room? It isn't to show wealth, it is to show those men whether from Essos or Westeros that the women and children are safe and not to be harmed. I have taken each and every precaution I can.” He responds with a look of defeat.

It is this moment that I realize why he told his wife to move the girls. That there were at least four guards ready to slit any mans throat. Rhaenys knew, and I wouldn't be surprised if Ottos wife does as well. Though I doubt Rhaenys would put that stress on Aemma, more than likely saying they would ruin their dresses or hair. This is the farthest Aemma has gotten in a pregnancy in quite some time. Rhaenys wouldn't risk it, so it's clear Aemma doesn't know. But what of my brother?

“I assume Rhaenys and possibly even the Florent knows. But what of my Brother and the Hand?”

Corlys sighs before nodding. “My wife, the Hand and his wife know. Though I was trying to tell the King, but he kept acting like I was a fool. The Queen doesn't know, Rhaenys refuses to put undue stress on her unless completely necessary. She has put it upon herself to look after our children and the Princess.”

I sigh before turning around and walking back to the Great Hall. “Then let us get back, the more looking out for those girls the better.”

I hear him chuckle before he falls into step with me. “Yes I completely agree.”

When we enter I see my brother down another glass of wine, and if the scent that permeates from him is any indicator he has been enjoying that disgusting Lannister honey wine.

“I think you've had enough brother, perhaps some water.” I say snatching the glass from him when he turns to fill it once more.

Of course when I come back to this party the first thing I have to deal with is my brother. He's King and yet it feels like taking care of a toddler at times. I think when he goes to argue but not giving him the chance when I hand him a chalice of cool lemon water.

“Drink, do not make a fool of our house let alone the realm more than you have.” I say, eyeing his red cheeks and droopy eyes.

He grumbles before taking a gulp of water, I only leave when I know the glass is empty and he fills it with lemon water once more.

I turn and see the girls giggling at the high table. I don't think they realize what they are showing just by being friends. The King's daughter, the Hands daughter, and the greatest sailor in history's daughter are all friends. They are showing to any lord in this room who thought otherwise, that the council is a united front. That the three strongest and most influential men in the seven Kingdoms are united. But no, these girls only know they are getting to play cards with their best friends.

I look at her gift pile and see many swords, bottles of wine, books, though I would guess they are far from fairytales and more likely to be philosophy or history books. There is a trinket or two that a little girl like herself would enjoy. Some dresses that are obviously too small or too big or down right horrendous to look at. And finally one piece of jewelry, a simple gold necklace with a seven pointed star.

It brings me pride to know I got her things she would actually enjoy. And I'm thankful that Rhaenyra demanded to pick a gift for her, I believe she got her a wooden whale trinket for her fireplace. And from what my niece said the Hightower girl got her a set of pearl earrings. Both simple and lovely gifts for their friend.

But I know mine is better.

I'm snapped back to the present when I hear Corlys voice resound through the room. He's holding Laena in his arms and from the way she beers with joy it's hard not to smile.

“I wish to thank you all for coming, I must admit I don't like my little girl being so close to those double digits. But I also must say thank you, for showing me so much joy in all the simple moments. Here's to my daughter, Laena, happy nameday.” He says before kissing her cheek making her giggle.

The room erupts in applause, I can see some of the men with daughters nodding with his words. Some even exclaim with a ‘here, here!’. I know each and everyone of them wished for a son, and yet it seems it is their daughter's that hold their hearts.

It is now that her gifts are brought to her, or I suppose her father's gifts. I move to my cousin's side as she watches her husband and daughter open each gift or at least hold it up and say thank you to the respecting lord.

“Most of the unsavory men have left, it seems they came for the good wine and gossip.” I say which seems to relax her if only a bit.

“Good, and that is usually how it goes. They feast and jest but as soon as the speech is done they are gone like that.” She says with a snap of her fingers.

“Why did so many come for her nameday? I mean no disrespect but she is a–” I start when my raven haired cousin interrupts.

“A daughter? Yes, well you need to remember something. My husband may be those lords or whatever they call themselves, only way to communicate with the Seven Kingdoms. If keeping that line of communication means coming to a little girl nameday party, then they will do it. For there is nothing men desire more than war, sex, and gold.”

I can't help but chuckle at her words. Rhaenys has always been straight to the point, Grandmother said it was the Baratheon in her. But I think it's just Rhaenys nature.

“Yes, well I suppose that is how your husband can afford to down your daughter in priceless jewels from head to toe?”

Rhaenys turns to look at me, I always feel a cold chill when I look in her eyes. They are so vibrantly purple, not lilac, periwinkle, lavender, or even violet, they are purple in its most purest form. It is unsettling to look at to say the least.

“My husband has worked for every piece of gold in our coffers. What can you say about yours?” And with that she walks away toward Aemma who seems to have found a seat by the beverage table.

I decide instead of dwelling on her jabe I would give the nameday girl her gifts.

“Happy nameday, Laena.” I make sure to emphasize her name which brings a smile to her face and shows her dimpled cheeks.

“Thank you, Prince Daemon.” She says looking at my hands and then her dwindling pile of gifts. “Which is yours? If you wish for me to open it?” She asks with a frown when all she sees are wine bottles and books.

I reach into my jerkin pocket holding out my enclosed fist. She quickly holds her hands under mine waiting for whatever I am about to give her to drop.

I smirk when I let it drop and her little hands try to catch only to find a necklace dangling from my fingers.

It's a golden necklace with small diamonds along the chain but what catches her attention is the pink diamond in the middle.

“It's Brightfyre!” She exclaims touching the meticulously carved link diamond. There was at least three that cracked or broke in the craving process, but I made the jewler try again each time. It had to be perfect, it had to look like her mount, no simple jewel would do.

“I love it, thank you!” She exclaims jumping into my arms and hugging me tight. I never would have thought this frail little thing would be so strong though I suppose she needs to be to ride that pink beast of hers.

“You're welcome, Laena.” I say as I stroke her hair. I notice how Corlys eyes the necklace, and then looks at me. I know he knows I paid a hefty amount for this necklace, but maybe when I break her heart this will make it a bit easier.

How wrong I was, for I would soon realize the next time I saw her, I had no chance of breaking her heart, but she had all the power to break mine.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy @baybaybear1

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

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just-horrible-things · 2 days ago

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1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I feel like a lot of these questions reveal a very different approach to writing to mine. I don’t set out to impart lessons, I’m not interested in writing didactically.

Unlikely Salvation has I guess some kind of lesson about change or forgiveness or that hurting people radicalises them and helping each other is the only way to mend rifts or something. But all of that grew organically, and there’s also a lot of fucked up stuff in there, a lot of “don’t try this at home”. Alex is way too forgiving early in the story, that’s not coming from a healthy place, that’s not a moral recommendation. It’s just an interesting thing for him as a character to do.

I think my other stories are further from having any “lessons” in them. Shit just happens, in some kind of sequence.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Large parts of the Resistance ‘verse were made up by my co-author, so I can’t speak to that. The structure and behaviours of the feds are mostly based on reading about real-world fascist organisations.

My BBU works are obviously very heavily inspired by other BBU stories, especially the way @ashintheairlikesnow writes it.

Annihilation is purely vibes. I’m throwing in everything that feels cool to me at the time and I couldn’t name where those ideas are coming from. (I’m more likely to be able to put my finger on it in retrospect, once the shape of it comes clearer.)

3a. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them?

Ariadne, my prime blorbo, is primarily motivated by seeking atonement, and by seeking Victory for her Cause.

Smith and Spider are mostly just trying to survive. Spider later trying to carve out her own identity.

Nikef is trying to win a war, preferably without losing what’s left of her selfhood along the way. Ahden is trying to keep Nikef alive and sane and not deciding to murder everyone.

I, the writer, am trying to tell interesting stories with characters who feel three-dimensional and textured.

3b. Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person?

No.

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

Don’t know, don’t care. I’m not trying to write complete, finished things at this time in my life. Honestly I find the notion a bit intimidating, and while I’m sure I could do it and probably will at some point in the future, at the moment writing is mostly an outlet for random creative energy. I write out of order and at a whim.

5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content. Only putting it on tumblr at present. If tumblr went away or became intolerable, I’d probably move it somewhere else, since enough people seem to enjoy it.

6. When did you start writing?

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t, honestly. Probably around the time I learned to, physically, write. There have been years and patches of years where my output was very low, but I’ve always made up stories and scrawled at least some of them down.

7a. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr?

It’s been said before, but write whatever you feel like writing. If you enjoy your story, if it matters to you, if it has meaning to you, that stuff will come through in your writing.

Don’t worry too much about quality. You’re always learning, you can always go back and edit stuff if you want it to be better. Stressing too much about the quality of output just gets you stuck in a loop of infinite editing or worse feeling too bad to write at all.

7b. What other writers do you follow?

So many. I’ve recently listed a few favourite stories. I’m following *checks* 279 blogs write now and I’d estimate 90% of them are writers.

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I’m terrible at coming up with people to tag but uhhhh @mottinthemainpot, @justplainwhump ? No pressure.

Tag Game: Author Ask Tag

thxxxxxxx @sacratos for the tag!

Question Template: 1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it? 2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding? 3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person? 4. How many chapters is your story going to have? 5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it? 6. When did you start writing? 7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

Don’t be an idiot and actually communicate with those you love, lol. In all seriousness, I don’t know if my story has a main theme, but there are several themes for sure. The importance of having family that loves and supports you (whether found or biological), taking back autonomy of oneself, and the importance of community.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Other BBU/pet whump authors! If you have written for the BBU, trust me, I have used some idea of yours as inspiration somewhere. I also use middle school me’s obsession with dystopian novels as inspiration as well.

3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person?

All my MCs are trying to heal, in one way or another and I want my readers to connect with my characters in some way. Not really teaching a lesson or having some big, major theme, but I want my characters to feel real and connect with the readers (yes, even if you want to kill them you cannot touch Star, he is immune from death)

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

Hahahaha ha ha ha. . . yeah, no clue

5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content from my brain! I post it here, and only here

6. When did you start writing?

The minute I learned what stories were. I think I wrote my first “story” (bible fanfiction. No I will not be taking questions about that) when I was about seven or so, then my first full fanfiction at nine and I have not stopped since.

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Read! Seriously, I cannot stress this enough! Read! And not just to compare yourselves with other writers–please don’t do that at all–but read to see how others write emotion, descriptions, characters, plots! Take what you like and figure out why you don’t like other kinds of writing, then apply what you want to your own writing. Also, your writing voice will develop in time. Don’t worry about that.

A large chunk of people I follow are writers! Can’t list all of them here, but they know who they are and their writings have inspired and shaped both my style and my content. Ilyasm!

Tagging (w/o any pressure!) @quietly-by-myself @whump-card @sparrowsage @whumble-beeee @whumpyourdamnpears and anyone else who wants to join in!

#tag games #meta

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