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withlovemark · 1 year

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to be loved - steve harrington

warning: mentions of steve's wounds, little angst! but it's a happy ending i promise

pairing: steve x reader

words: 2.3k+

summary: steve finally allows himself to believe in love again

an: i posted this a couple of days ago? and just now realized it got deleted. not really sure what happened there. anyways, found this in my drafts a week ago? (i have no concept of time). i didn't want to leave it rotting there so i wrote a quick ending and here you go. hope its okay!

three light taps, a knock that echoed throughout the boy’s dimly lit room, a sound enough to startle him after the events that have taken place in the past few days. not a single other person was in this house, a normality that he has accepted. steve’s parents were never around and he had no other relatives that would even care if he was still alive. his friends were a bunch of high schoolers, except for robin and…you.

he knows he’s messed it up with you. he can see it with the way you avoid his glances, the way you would choose to sit in the furthest chair away from him, the way you would get quiet when he was around and the way you stopped yourself from reaching out for him. the familiarity of your touch is no longer accessible, becoming only a memory. he can’t blame you though, your last words to him still replaying in his mind, loud and clear.

“i don't think i can do this anymore steve, i can't keep coming to your house, sleeping in your clothes, doing things that friends aren’t supposed to be doing, just for you to still be thinking about her.”

he’s about to roll over onto his bed. to sleep the remnants of the past away. to keep ignoring everything like he always does and get ready for a new day, pretending he was healed. that he was okay. he was not.

nowadays, it’s easier to slap a smile on his face instead of talking about his feelings. the last time he let himself truly feel something, he got his heart ripped out of his chest and trampled upon like it meant nothing, like it was a rock you could use to skip stones, one that you could let go of and not care enough whether it comes back to shore or get lost in the deepest parts of the lake.

another knock makes its way to his ears. he thinks he’s imagining it until another one comes. grabbing the bat he hid between his nightstand, he slowly made his way to his bedroom door, feeling absolutely drained. the pain on his stomach, from the demobats that got a taste, still stinging, a pain that travels throughout his body with every miniscule movement. slowly, he carefully unlocks his door, ready to swing, until his brown eyes meet your wide, shocked ones. letting out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, he slowly lowers his bat.

“hi,” you whisper, “i uh, got in using the spare key,” a sheepish smile on your lips, holding up the silver key that was hidden in the dead plant placed on his front door. the key he told you about so you could sneak into his house at any given moment. the key that led to love marks all over his body, painting pink and purple constellations. the key you haven’t used since that night you decided to end whatever it was there to end.

“you agreed to no feelings, that we would just be friends with benefits and that's it, you know that's all it could be,” steve has his face resting on his palm, his once perfectly styled hair going in different directions. like this - bare chest, lips still red from yours, neck stained beautifully by the artwork you left behind, he looked like he belonged in an art gallery.

“i-i know, but i-i couldn’t help it…it’s just so easy to fall in love with you,” a confession that leaves the boy paralyzed, doe, teary eyes staring up at his brown ones — almost pleading.

“stop. you don’t know what you’re saying.” he’s angry. mad that those words could slip past your lips so easily. mad that even though you’re looking at him like he somehow brought the moon to you, he still can’t find it in himself to believe it.

“steve-,” you try to reach out for his hand but he pulls away before you could even feel him. all you want is to pull him into your arms, to remind him that he is worth loving but you see the battle in his eyes, the war that’s taking place in his mind and you know he has his kingdom closed, walls up, ready to strike and defend himself at any second. there is no room for you in his castle, you see that now.

“i-im sorry,” your voice was gentle, afraid he’ll completely lock the gate on you. the last thing you wanted was to fight, you’re defenseless when it comes to him.

“let’s just pretend that none of this happened and we can go back to being friends, nothing changes and for the sake of us and the others, no questions asked,” his words were met with silence that cuts through like a sword against your neck.

you felt detached from reality, feeling like you were watching this conversation happen instead of being a part of it. you had no control when you slowly got off his bed and quietly switched back into your clothes, his words transferring a sort of numbness to your whole being.

he watched as you removed his t-shirt from your body and tossed it into his laundry bag, slipping back into your own clothes, making him think that his old t-shirt looked way better on you. yet all he did was watch. watched as you gave him one last forced smile and walked out of his room. the sound of the front door opening and closing traveling throughout the house.

the days that followed after were stolen glances, opposite directions, uncomfortable silences, tiptoes, lingering feelings, longing stares, tension. neither one budged nor made the effort to even act like friends, going along with the others like they were fools when in reality, there can be no one more foolish than the pair.

“hi?” he greets you just as quietly, head tilted, confused, like a puppy who was hearing a new sound for the first time. he sees you glance at his bandaged stomach, eyes traveling up to his bruised neck and notices the way you want to reach out to him but just like all the other times before, you stop yourself.

“i-uh i brought you some food, and a first aid kit,” your voice still a mere whisper, he nods, guards down, stepping aside as you walk into the room you’ve been in countless times before.

you placed the bag on his vanity, taking out it’s contents one by one and like before, he sat upon his bed and watched — a bowl that seemed to contain his favorite chicken noodle soup coming into view, it’s aroma hitting his nostrils, a clear tupperware filled with your famous homemade chocolate cookies, one that smells like home, the ones the kids would fight over with, resulting to an extra batch made just for him since he never won.

he suddenly realizes how hungry he was, not really having the motivation nor the appetite to keep his stomach full. his body responds by lightly growling, a sound he hoped you didn’t hear.

“you should eat,” you break the silence, looking at him through his vanity mirror, “gonna need all your strength back to make sure you can always play hero,” you send him a small smile, he softly chuckles at your words, eyes falling to his sheets which suddenly became interesting, when was the last time he changed his sheets anyway.

“i also brought you new bandages so you can change that every couple of hours, make sure it doesn’t get infected, with all these monsters around, that’d be the lamest way to go, y’know?,” you joked, trying to lighten the air. he stares at your back, contemplating. regardless of the fact that you were always an arm length away, he missed you.

he wants to be selfish. he wants to be taken care of, to be loved.

and for the first time in a while, his mind is silent, focusing only on the fact that you are there.

making his way over to you, he wraps his arms around your waist, hands falling on top of each other, sitting tightly on your stomach, his head hiding on the crook of your neck, light puffs of air falling from his lips causing goosebumps to rise all over your body. he feels you stiffen, holding your breath, before relaxing back into his chest, hand gently hovering over his. you stay that way for a while, a minute or two, before you turn around, still in his embrace. slowly your hands make their way to his neck, fingers dancing lightly around his red, bright scar and ever so gently, landing around his cheek, eyes on yours, “are you okay?”

with those three words, the gates open and with it came a river of tears. he shakes his head no and this time, he lets you pull him into your arms as he found solace in your warmth, your perfume that smelled like the sweetest of flowers, making him feel like the sun was on his back as he laid his head on your chest. your fingers immediately run through his silky hair and he feels like a huge weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

“thank you for being here,” his voice hoarse from the quiet cries that slipped past his lips, he pulled away, admiring the way the moonlight from his window reflected itself into your eyes, brushing back the strand of hair that dangled in front of them.

“i-i thought i was gonna lose you,” words that broke the boy’s heart. he can’t even imagine what he would have done if the roles were reversed. “i-i was so scared,” you continue, trying to hold back the tears that were begging to fall.

“hey,” rough palms making it’s way to your cheeks, softly caressing you, golden eyes shining, “you will never lose me.”

“haven’t i already?,” you cry out. you hated the way you danced around him like he was a stranger. hated the fact that you couldn’t allow yourself to find comfort in him, afraid you would cross the line that the boy remarkably drew out and completely lose access to him.

“no,” he lightly shakes his head, “ no….hey, look at me,” his finger under your chin, gently pleading for your eyes to find his. “i’m right here, i’m not going anywhere, i’m sorry i’ve been running, i was just…scared,” he admits.

“scared of what?,” you urge him on, waiting for the answer to the problem you’ve been trying to solve. his hands find their way around yours as he looks down, composing his thoughts.

“i was scared you would finally realize there will always be someone better, that you’d leave and i’d be all alone again,” he spills his truths. and you can’t fathom how blind you’ve been to not see it. the reason behind nancy appearing in his thoughts.

“i’m not her, you know?” you say quietly. he nods, “i-i know,” he says guiltily.

“and i don’t want better, steve…i just want you,” you confess into the night, steve feels all the air rush into his lungs, almost like he was learning how to breathe for the first time. he searches your eyes for any signs of doubt but only saw his own reflection in them.

“do you want me?” you barely heard your own voice, afraid of the answer. he scoffs, “god, is that even a question?,” you look at him, confusion etched onto the creases of your eyebrows and steve almost wished the bats got him instead of realizing that he has left you doubting his feelings for you.

“of course i want you,” his brown eyes staring deeply into yours, “i can’t get you out of my head, all this time all i wanted was to be near you, to hold your hand, god, y/n i’m in love with you and i prayed, god i prayed to a guy i barely believed in that we would both make it out there alive because i-i can’t imagine my life without you and-,” he’s breathless, telling you everything he has wanted for weeks. word after word stumbling out of his lips as your smile grew with every syllable, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

you pulled the boy towards you and like magnets, you connected, quickly placing your lips against his before your eyes drowned in your favorite color, the smile forming on his lips evident “i said it before but i’m in love with you too.”

his eyes soften, finally allowing himself to believe those words, soft lips meets yours once again, battling, making up for all the lost time, hands automatically finding its way up his brown curls like they were meant to always be there, his, around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible, fearing that if he let you go, you’ll disappear as if it was a dream.

but as you make that little sound, the one that drives him crazy, butterflies erupting in his stomach, he knows that this is better than any dream he could ever imagine. you were here with him. you were in love with him.

your hands slowly starts making its way down to his body, but before the situation could escalate, he can’t help but break the kiss off, the pain from his wounds still evident, he lets out a sharp moan, “ow,” snapping you back to reality.

“oh my god, i'm so sorry,” you apologize, inspecting his bandages.

“don’t be,” he reassures you, a light kiss placed upon your lips, “you’re worth it,” he teased, causing your giggles to harmonize, his forehead leaning against yours, a content sigh slipping off his lips. two eyes crinkling, sharing light smiles.

“as much as i would love to stare into your eyes forever” you break the dream-like state, “i worked really hard on that chicken noodle soup and it would be a shame for it to go to waste,” you laugh and he holds on to the moment as long as possible.

“now, we wouldn’t want that, plus we have forever to lovingly gaze in each other’s eyes,” he winks, sending you into a fit of laughter. he kisses you one more time before grabbing your favorite t-shirt, his t-shirt, in his drawer and handing it to you.

an: i really don't post in this acc unless i have something to post lmao. also, currently in my bridgerton phase so don't mind the profile pic, or do mind it? feel free to let me know your favorite bridgerton :)

#steve harrington x you #stranger things x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #love.c.#steve harrington x reader angst

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sag-dab-sar · 11 days

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I finally moves all my "real" drafts that I normally kept in a pause queue (for easy access) to my google drive. Especially because tumblr will randomly post them regardless of the pause.

I also moved my rant/journal posts I wrote but decided not to post and let them rot in drafts to google drive.

I went through the rest of my drafts and deleted the ones I didn't care about or put them in the google drive folder for actual writing.

This left me with like 167 drafts when I had over 200. Mainly complex posts from my old blog (since I saved a backup) and a few reblogs I want to add to.

And also now I only have 7 queued posts (Inana book series) instead of whatever ridiculous amount I had.

This will definitely help me keep writing I think AND tumblr won't fucking delete all my hard work anymore.

AS TO THE TWO ANONS I claimed I'd get done in Jan... then March... now:

I'vs started working on the Ereškigal one again, finally now that life is kind of sort of calming down

#blogrelated

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themadauthorshatter · 2 years

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This has been in my drafts for a while and sorry it took so long to post

RED QUEEN OTP SWAP PART 3!!

We begin with Cal being primmed and propered up for a ceremony after Kingstrial, as he is now made to marry Gisa.

Mostly, he cleans himself and dresses himself, but the servants make sure THEY wash his hair and remove all the grime before drying him off and painting him so he's outtake and dress him to the nines in Calore colors.

When they try to take some cheap metal bracelets Iris, Tiora, amd Maven chipped in to get him, he panics and recovers enough to order them to leave the bracets.

Good because, as Mare puts it, they suit him.

Cal panicks slightly, as he's alone with the crown princess, who he's also a little annoyed at because she can't do anything about his situation. Mare admits that she wants Cal to go home too, but she can't mainly because everyone knows about him now and most of them want him dead.

Speaking of dead, if anyone finds out about his being a Red and not a Silver, that's how he'll end up in a heartbeat, him and his family and friends. Can he write to them? No, too risked.

Mare apologizes and wishes him luck for the night because he'll need it.

She leaves, Cal suits up in red and black, and is escorted to the lift that leads him to Samson, who gives him the run down that he was born in the war and taken in by a Red man who'd lost his son and wife. He was raised without knowing who he is. The rest is history.

Cal asks what Samson wants with him, but Samson only tells him to not screw up or die, giving him an extra migraine for motivation.

Samson leaves Cal to stand with the royal family and Daniel stands before them all to give a grand speech on how the Kingstrial brought forth a miracle, one in the form of the long lost child of the beloved Tiberias Calore VI: one Tiberias Calore VII, who everyone watches as he descends the stairs and sits beside the Samos family.

Ptolemus is not amused, btw, and it gets worse when Cal and Gisa exchange vows and swear themselves to each other. Cal is upset more than ever because now there ia no going home.

Unsurprising to ANYONE, Ptolemus is chosen as Mare's husband and they exchange their vows, though Ptolemus doesn't just threaten to cut Cal apart, no. He grabs his wrist and squeezes hard enough to cut off circulation, making a ring of metal that is razor sharp and almost slices of Cal's hand.

He lets go instead and Cal is all too relieved; healers be damned, he would not like to lose a hand, please and thank you.

Thankfully, Ptolemus decides to not cut his hand, or cut him, and the rest of the evening goes as it usually does, with dinner, though Cal actually makes himself eat and is laughed at by Ptolemus because he keeps using the cutlery wrong by switching his hands, he's slouching, and is eating loke a starved dog.

He also loses his mind for a moment after some alcohol that Gisa takes away and replaces with water, despite the objections from Cal.

She also apologizes for what's happened and admits that now she knows how Mare feels because she didn't have a choice in who she would marry.

Cal is not happy at the pity and tells her that she wouldn't know hardship even if it beat her and left her to rot. Gisa admits that, no, she wouldn't, but that doesn't mean Silvers have it totally easy, as proven by the Kingstrial.

The events continue as usual, but the king and queen actually share a room this time, and the princesses escort the boys the bed, though Cal is steadily going insane from the anxiety and Mare is of little comfort because she tells him to be a little careful because there are cameras everywhere excpt that bathroom, though it is wire tapped.

Gee, great. Thanks, Mare.

Cal does get a schedule, and does get picked on because he was raised in the dirt, and he gets etiquette lessons, and sees Mare and Gisa whoop ass in training. He is scolded for his untimely-ness and taught how to stand, walk, sleep, greet people, properly use cutlery, and what the high houses and their names are before luncheon.

A a few more Kingstrial contestants are there, and they're not happy to see him, i.e. Olover Laris and Stralian Haven, who are a little pissed to have not been as lucky as he was.

Also here is the Panther Ara Iral, who's visiting with her grandson Reynald, who sees Cal has bronze eyes as opposed the the previous Calore Lord's and Lady's silver-gray.

Thankfully, Daniel gets their attention and Ruth escorts Ara away.

Afterwards, Gisa assures him that there will be no trouble, and he's off to meet another mentor: Willis Farely(the colonel, for those wondering), who Cal is surprised to see, and for good reason because he's a bit of a surprise among Reds and Silvers due to being the child of a Red and a Silver.

He also knows Cal is a Red with powers and only wants to help him understand himself, thank goodness because Cal would like answers, please and thank you.

#red queen #otp swap #cal calore #tiberias calore vii #mare barrow #gisa barrow #'long post'

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wooahaes · 2 years

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.... ok, layton anon here again (I might just use that as a tag if that's okay? 👉🏻👈🏻)

I literally just typed out a long ass reply and then tumblr decided to crash - but maybe it's a sign to try and keep it shorter (update: i failed)

for the maze runner thing, it was honestly just about the "people appearing one after another without memories" I think aside from that it's very different, especially in terms of general atmosphere. I've read Day 1 too now btw and I loved it sm! I'm really intrigued to see how it continues<3

I hope your meds are safe for you to take and that they help quickly!!

yess him being like shigure would work really well (i also love shigure sm as a unit but that's a different story)

Also imma be honest as well - i'm the same. Birthright is the only one I finished and other than that I'm like almost through with awakening, halfway with echoes and revelations and idek how far with three houses. I think I get too much into strategizing and spend too much time planning out the classes and skills instead of just playing and then I tend to abandon the games for a while...

So since I'm not super deep into the story myself my 3h au isn't that deep. Y/n would take Byleths place, simply because it makes a lot of sense. And then I sorta assigned the units to the houses based on Vibes TM aka Blue Lions - HHU, Black Eagles - Vocal, Golden Deer Tiger - Performance.

I also felt that some characters shared traits or reminded me of members (Linhardt - Han, Ferdinand - Seungkwan, Sylvain - Mingyu, Claude - Hoshi, Ignatz - Hao). But they'd mostly be themselves and not take over the exact role of anyone. I've also have thoughts on classes for some but not for all. I think Woozi would be something along the lines of a General, Han would be a Dark Mage, Hoshi a Hero, Scoups a Swordmaster or Cavalier (or anything else just give the man a sword) and- yeah I think I'll end it here

thanks for letting me share my fire emblem brain rot!! have a good day/night/evening!<3

omg hiii thats absolutely fine!! i didnt want to just assign it to u but thats 100% fine w me!!

its ok i also fail at writing short responses 90% of the time dskfhdsf tumblr crashing during those is awful tho

ooo yeah fair :0 i can def see it!! ive learned a lot abt tmr through posting this fic lmao but im glad you liked day 1!! the fics gonna honestly slow down for a bit purely bc the next 13 parts are each individual members parts and those are honestly just gonna take a hot sec for me to like... be happy w all of them :(

aaa i still havent taken them just bc. anxiety bad! they shouldnt have any bad interactions since they're not a sulfa drug, but anxiety louder, y'know? im waiting until i know family is awake (yes ik its 4 pm shh) in case i need shit

i also love shigure but thats at least slightly bc of my love for m*tt m*rcer as a voice actor sdfhsdkjfh i adore him tho!! thats my beloved!!

i get DEEP in trying to figure out my units tbh i usually end up drafting out my pairings when i play. if awakening + conquest both had the ability to scout out things as easily as u can in birthright + revelations, i would have def beat them by now tbh.

but also i tend to abandon games after a while by accident sdkfhsdfh

i know little abt 3h but i am nodding along and golden tiger makes me happy. its what my man deserves <3

me lookin up these characters and sees ferdinand is confident and hates losing like YEP thats kwannie. i can see a lot of the comparisons u drew!! :0

i can def see general woozi + hero hoshi + swordsmaster cheol + dark mage han!! cheol is getting a sword and thats all i care about actually /j (nah but if i could give him some sort of rally skill, i think he + woozi + hosh would all have one in some shape!! and most likely seok too since booseoksoon leader ykno)

i honestly feel like shua would potentially be a war cleric. can heal you, but can also can Kill.

alternatively for hannie tho he could be thief -> trickster imo?

i honestly feel like vernon miiight either be a cavalier or an archer. its a gut thing tbh i cannot explain otherwise.

u are always welcome to share ur fe brainrot sdkfhsdf this blog is where i share my svt + trsr (+ skz tbh) brainrot now lmao y'all can Always share stuff ur interested in w me!! i hope u also have a good day/night/evening! <3

#wooahaes.ask #layton anon

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mysteriousvoidbeing · 1 year

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So I've decided to share my first draft of a short story I wrote for my creative writing class. If anyone's interested in the final version, or my worldbuilding process, let me know! I'd love an excuse to post about it

Winter Doe

Dahlia had been alive for twenty-five foraging seasons, and had been an active participant in nineteen of them. In all of those years, her observant eyes had seen many things, and had come to know that the cycles of her little village never changed. She knew that when the months were warm and days were long, her village would tend to their small fields and forests, cultivating an abundance that could last them through the year. When the weather began to cool, she knew they would harvest those meager fields, and forage through the forests to pick as much as they needed to last through the icy months. Finally, when the weather began to warm, they would plant again, and the cycle would repeat. This cycle never changed in all of her twenty-five years, and she had grown used to the consistent intricacies. Sure, there was the odd day she couldn’t predict, but otherwise, she knew the cycle down to the days. This was how she knew the best days to go out with her own foraging group.

But then came the rot.

Dahlia was walking between the tall trees of the forest closest to the village to her favorite clearing: a small, secluded space that every year would provide a wealth of her and her husband’s favorite fruit and vegetable. Better yet, no one else chose to go there, so it was nice and quiet. She had her newborn wrapped tightly to her back, and a large woven basket, lined lovingly with her mother’s homemade silk, under her arm. She was thinking hard about all of the things her husband could bake with the roseberries she would find, and all the dishes she’d cook with the amia she so loved, the spicy, garlicy flavor a nice addition to any meal, when she reached her clearing. As she made to step in, however, her mood shifted.

The clearing was wrong. It was an accumulation of details that made her notice. The ground beneath felt slightly damp, and the leaves of the trees above her looked dewy in the morning light. There was a scent in the air she couldn’t quite place: a mix of wet soil right after rain, and something pungent and unpleasant, although mild. Odd. It hadn’t rained in a few days. As she made her way to the nearest bush, one she knew held her precious roseberries, she couldn’t help but notice the cold, misty feeling settling on her skin. She kneeled in front of the bush, putting her basket down, and took careful note of each fruit. Most were browned. Where she should have found firm, sweet, and bright red, was instead an almost-black, and mushy. They seemed to be the source of the more pungent scent. Any fruit that was salvageable, she placed carefully into her basket. The rest couldn’t be eaten.

Dahlia made her way from bush to bush, salvaging what she could and leaving the rest. She quickly found that it wasn’t just the roseberries that were her problem. Every fruit and vegetable in the clearing was gone, to the point where even the ones in the trees had taken a hit. When she had gone to pick the amia, she had found them brittle at the ends, and rotting at their roots, an almost-black just like the fruit. They looked as though they’d been overwatered, but again, it hadn’t rained for days, and the rains that year had been as consistent as every other year. By the end of her little harvest, her basket was only a third as full as previous years. The only explanation she could think of was that a frost had settled in, but there was no sign of an overnight freeze anywhere else, and it was too early for one anyhow! Had there been some shift in the pattern she had missed?

Dahlia stood from where she’d crouched, over a patch of amia. With one hand around her basket, and another under the bottom of her baby, she made her way back to her foraging group. As she made her way, she pondered whether this was an omen she should worry over.

***

Her group seemed cheerful; all things considered. They hadn’t taken notice of any of the changes, though she was perceptive to the fact that their baskets had less fruit too. A more bountiful harvest then hers, but still a change. Her group consisted of fifteen people: men, women, and children, though she was really only close to two of them. As she neared, those two took notice, and Marie, a large, older woman, called out to her.

“Ah, Dahlia! Good to see you’ve made your way back; we were just preparing to leave!” She boomed. She had always been the louder sort.

Leila chimed in, much softer in tone. “Is there something wrong? You usually spend so long in your clearing we have to come look for you.”

Dahlia glanced down at her basket, then tilted it to show them it’s contents. “I’m afraid I wasn’t able to get as much this year. Most of the fruits and vegetables were rotten.”

“Oh, but what a shame!” Marie exclaimed, brows furrowing. “No worries, we’ll share our harvest with you. Would be a crime if Emil couldn’t bake any of his treats for this year’s festival.”

Ah. The festival. Stuck in her own mind, Dahlia had forgotten about the important event. She replied slowly, eyes on her basket. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is?” Leila asked softly, caring gaze turned to Dahlia.

“It’s just, I’ve never seen a season this bad. My basket is nearly a third as full as any other year. Everything in the clearing looked frostbitten, but it’s far too early for any frost!”

Marie scoffed lightly, causing both Leila and Dahlia to turn to her. “I see your worry streak is coming back. We have bad harvests, hon, I promise you it is no conspiracy.”

“But this isn’t just a bad harvest, Marie! You saw my basket, tell me that’s not the lowest you’ve ever seen it!”

“It was probably just a bit of extra rain or something. The weather is never consistent, you know that!” In fact, she knew it to be the opposite. From the moment she could understand the weather, she had noticed it was never inconsistent. And for that matter, even Marie should be able to remember that it had been a week since the last rain. “Now come on. You don’t need all of this stress at such an important time. Go home and prepare, I know you and Emil have a busy few days ahead.” With that, Marie turned and began to make her way back towards the village gates.

Dahlia and Leila watched her leave for a moment, and then Leila turned to Dahlia. “You know, she is right. I wouldn’t have said it how she did, and I understand your worry, but you do tend to kick up a fuss quite often. Relax for once! The festival of the falling leaves is right around the corner after all, and you don’t want to be stressed during the main ceremony.” Then, she turned and left as well, running to catch up with Marie.

Dahlia was used to this, and did nothing more than lightly clench her fist and sigh. It was true that she often kicked up a fuss, but truthfully, she had every right to. There had never been a time where her worries were unfounded. She was always the first to notice a change, and always the first to be prepared. It amazed her that no one seemed to see that. As she made her own way back home, baby stirring on her back, she resolved to see the council the following day to discuss what she’d seen. Maybe this time they’d listen.

***

Dahlia closed the door carefully behind her as she stepped into her home. She walked briskly to the kitchen, where her husband had apparently already started baking, and set her basket down. Emil perked up when he heard her, though he didn’t turn from his pot on the stove.

“Welcome back love!” He called cheerfully. “How did the harvest go?” Dahlia could hear the smile in his voice, and her mood perked up.

She made to untie her baby to hold her better, and replied, “Not very well I’m afraid.”

At that, her husband set down the spoon he had been stirring with, and turned to her, a concerned frown forming on his face. “What went wrong? I thought you were going to your clearing?”

“And I did, but as you can see, there wasn’t much to take this year.” Emil glanced at the basket, and grimaced slightly at its contents.

“Was there less fruit this year?”

“The amount of fruit was the same, but almost everything was rotten in the clearing. I took what I could, and the girls offered to share their harvest with us so we could make our dishes, but…”

“But that’s not what your worried about, is it?” Dahlia shook her head. She had sat down at the table, and Emil made his way over to sit next to her, and placed a heavy arm carefully around her. She spoke as she tended to her baby.

“It’s not normal for the fruit to rot this early. Everything looked overwatered, but- “

“But we haven’t had rains in a week.”

“Exactly! The only other way I’ve seen this happen is when the frost first settles in, but that isn’t supposed to happen for another two weeks!”

“I see then. Your worried because of the sudden change. You think it may mean something worse is coming. Am I right?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“Marie and Leila, but you know how they are. They shot the idea down before I could even get it out.”

Emil looked up towards the ceiling, leaning back a bit. “Well, I wouldn’t let them get to you. You haven’t exactly been wrong before.”

“But no one else seems to see that! I’m heading to the council tomorrow to tell them what I saw, but if it goes anything like last time, nothing will be done!”

Emil looked into Dahlia’s eyes. “And in that case, we’ll take matters into our own hands, just like we always do. You know I’ll have your back through all of this.”

Dahlia smiled. “And that’s exactly why I married you.”

Emil dramatically brought a hand to his chest, and pretended to fall back in his chair as if wounded. “Oh, my lady! You can’t just say such kind things! My heart, my poor heart!”

That got a deep laugh out of Dahlia. Mood sufficiently lightened, the two continued to talk, going about their day, tending to their baby and their respective work, and finally settling down together after a hearty dinner. Dahlia hoped the following day would go well.

***

The very first thing Dahlia did the next day was go to Leila and Marnie to accept a portion of each of their harvests. She made note of the light chill in the air, and the fact that she had to put on a shawl to leave her home, before making her way to their homes. She didn’t stay to talk long, a busy day ahead of her. She thanked them graciously for what they gave her, and then went back home to drop off the food so her husband could begin baking. Her own dishes could wait till the day of the festival, but Emil’s baked goods always took a few days to make. With that done, she made her way back out to the outskirts of the village, intending to see if anything had changed again. As she made her way, she observed the preparations around her.

The festival of falling leaves was always a colorful affair, mimicking the way the leaves turned at the onset of the coldest months of the year. She was surrounded by paper lanterns, colorful candles, decorations that had probably taken weeks to make. At the center of it all was the Celia, a large crystal decorated with gold and silver wire. It was the protection of their village, and part of the reason they had so many holidays and festivals. At every major gathering, they would bring it out, and the joy and happiness that radiated from the people would charge the crystal, giving it the power to protect the whole village, confusing anyone with malintent to turn away from the village before they could get close.

As she watched them move it into place, she noticed that the crystal looked duller than usual, and there was a chip in one of its facets. She wasn’t exactly sure how much of a problem that was, but decided to bring it up alongside her other concerns. Soon, she had made it to the back gate of the village, where she hoped to look for any other signs of the frost that had seemed to come in.

She didn’t get far from the village before she spotted him. The body of a young boy lying just behind the tree line. She ran towards him, and crashed onto her knees next to him, eyes wide and hands out and hands searching for the source of his state. He was a pale thing, raven-dark hair a stark contrast to his near white skin. The only red she saw on his body was on his cheeks, nose, and the tips of his fingers. His lips were a light blue. Even more concerning were the patches of ice flakes she was finding on his exposed skin. The poor thing looked no older than seven or eight years. She couldn’t exactly do anything out near the woods, so she picked the frail boy up into her arms, and carefully but quickly made her way back to her home. No one seemed to notice her as she rushed home, too busy with their own minds and tasks, and so she made it without being stopped. As soon as she made it through the threshold of her door, she called to her husband, slamming the door behind her.

Emil rushed into the entryway from the kitchen, and upon spotting Dahlia with the boy, rushed to take from her arms. “Take him to the bedroom, lay him down on the main bed, and watch over him. I will mix something to bring his skin back to temperature more quickly.” Dahlia spoke quickly, and Emil simply nodded, face serious, and went about his given task.

Dahlia rushed into the kitchen Emil had just been in, and grabbed an assortment of herbs. She threw them haphazardly into a mortar, and began pounding away. Once it was sufficiently mixed, the grabbed some tinctures and gels from their medicine room and mixed them in with the herbs. She tested some on her skin, and felt it was ready when a warming sensation came. Quickly, she made her way to the bedroom, and dropped the mortar into her husband’s lap, who had set the boy in the bed on his back.

“Place this over as much of his skin as you can, a little at a time, then let him rest for at least an hour in between. It will help to warm him, but not too quickly.”

“And you? What will you do?”

“I need to speak with the council immediately. This is a definite sign of something going on.”

“Be swift, then. The frost has settled deep into his skin, if this is getting closer to us, I worry about the consequences of not preparing sooner.”

Dahlia simply nodded, before turning to run out of her house. She noticed immediately the dark and heavy clouds in the sky, far on the horizon for now. Rain would be normal for this time of year, but she knows those are not rain clouds. They are too dark. Too heavy. Another sign. There was so much evidence at this point that the council could not deny her, this had to go well.

***

To say it did not go well would be an understatement. Dahlia walked away from the tent that the council members sat in with a seething rage. She hadn’t even managed to tell them about the boy before they cut her off. They had rolled their eyes as she told them of the rot, laughed as she described the clouds rolling in and the chill in the air, and yelled at her when she spoke of the crystal. They had gone so far as to accuse her of attempting to ruin their ceremony by ruining the people’s mood! They were so clouded by their excitement for this festival that they failed to see a problem right in front of them!

She couldn’t even say she was surprised, because they dismissed her every single time, she brought up a concern, only to later be the last prepared when disaster struck. She wondered how they had ever become the wisest of her village, if they always failed like this. Angrily, she stomped into her home, slamming the door behind her, when she heard coughing.

Emil yelled out, “Dahlia, he’s awake! Come quick! Bring a cup of tea from the kitchen, I’ve already prepared it!”

She ran to the kitchen, grabbing the tea before steadily making her way back to her bedroom, council all but forgotten. There, she saw her husband helping the boy to sit up in their bed. She made to sit down on the edge of the bed, next to the boy, and brought the cup to his lips.

“Drink.” She said softly, and he did. He took careful sips, a shiver wracking his body as the warmth began to spread. They all sat in silence for a time, as the boy recovered enough to speak.

“Where am I?” he asked when he was well enough to speak. His voice was still hoarse, words slurred. He held the cup himself, as they Dahlia spoke.

“I am Dahlia, and this is my husband, Emil. I found you on the outskirts of our village, by the trees, and brought you here to my home. Can you tell us your name?”

The boy was silent for a moment, eyes staring into his mug, then spoke. “My name is Viktor. Viktor Aiken. I am from a village north of here.”

Emil set a hand on one of the boy’s hands. “How did you get here? Do you need help getting back?”

The boy answered quietly. “There is nothing to go back to.”

Emil and Dahlia glanced to each other, before bringing their attention back to the boy. “What do you mean?” Dahlia asked carefully.

“The village. It’s gone. I managed to run before it was covered, but there’s nothing to go back to.”

“Can you explain what happened? What do you mean by covered?”

“It happened a few days ago now. I think I was the first to notice. A sudden chill in the air, and frost on our homes. All of a sudden, big clouds rolled in from the north and it started snowing, heavier than I’ve ever seen. I took what I could and ran from the village alone, since my family had refused to go. I managed to make it out just in time. Within a day the entire village to be buried under snow.” His eyes watered as he spoke.

“Snow? At this time of year?!” Emil exclaimed.

Dahlia shushed him, and quietly said, “Be calm, Emil.” She turned back to the boy, whose eyes were growing heavy once more. “Go back to sleep, dear. We can talk more once you are truly feeling better.”

Emil spoke next, attempting to reassure. “I’m sure your family managed to escape after you. We will try to find them, but only once you’ve recovered. Rest.”

And with that, the boy well back in the bed. Dahlia stood up, grabbing the mug as Emil tucked the boy back under heavy blankets. They both made their way to the kitchen.

“I knew something was going to go wrong, and now look what’s happening!” Dahlia whisper-yelled, setting the mug on their table.

“How could it possibly snow so early? And a snow heavy enough to cover an entire village?!”

“I’m not sure, but I can tell you that it’s most definitely making its way here. You heard what he said, he noticed the same chill and frost that we have seen, and just as I was going to the council, I saw those clouds the spoke of on the horizon!”

“Speaking of the council, how did that go?” Dahlia turned to him with a dull expression, hiding a returning rage. “Not well I suppose?”

“Not in the slightest. I didn’t even get to tell them about the boy before I was dismissed! They went so far as to accuse me of trying to ruin the festival!”

Emil sighed, having heard similar stories from her before. “In that case, we take it into our own hands. I know you’re already thinking of a plan, what shall we do?”

Dahlia leaned against the shoulder of her husband. “Prepare the house for snow, for starters. We may be able to prolong things if our house can withstand the cold and weight of the snow. We’ll put up bars to hold the roof strong, and make our walls thicker so the cold cannot come in. We’ll make sure to cover any cracks in our windows too.”

“And what else? I know you, darling. You’ve never been one to sit idly by when something disastrous is happening. I want to support you, but for that to happen I have to know what you are planning.”

Dahlia sighed. “I want to find the source.”

“You want to what now?”

“I want to find the source of this snow. Viktor said he came from the north. He said the clouds he saw rolled in from the north, and the same is true for us. Those heavy clouds are coming from the north. I know it seems far-fetched, but what if there’s something further up north, past the other village, that can explain this snow. I want to go find it, and see if I can stop this.

“I love you darling, so very much, but you do hear how insane that sounds, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Viktor said it took him days to make it here, how do you plan to make it all the way to a source we’re not even sure exists, before the now settles in? We only have a day!”

“I’m aware of how insane this sounds, but what other hope do we have? It’s either we stay here, cooped up in our house, and prolong our deaths for maybe a few days, or someone tries to do something, and we maybe prevent this from happening at all! To me, it’s worth it to at least try, and we’re the only ones who’d bother to go, since we’re the only ones who know what’s happening. As for how long it takes, Viktor is a child who walked on foot. I am a grown woman, who has a horse of her own she can take.”

Emil knew she was right. He knew. But it still spiked worry in his heart to imagine his wife going out there, into the unforgiving snow, all alone. “Then I will go with you.”

“Absolutely not. Any other time, I’d be okay with you coming, but we have not only a baby girl of our own to care for, but also a young boy, and an entire village ignorant to what is coming. I need you here to take care of them till I return.”

Emil sighed, knowing again that she is right. He still hated it though. “I know your right. I’m just worried. I’d rather die with you here in my arms then wondering if you are out frozen in the snow.”

“And I understand that worry. But I will not let either of us die. You know I mean it when I say that. If it helps, I will turn around and make my way back if the snow gets too heavy to deal with.” Dahlia stared deep into Emil’s eyes as she spoke.

Emil stared back answering, “I will hold you to that.”

“Then let’s begin the preparations.”

To be continued

#my wips #writing #writblr #writerscorner #writers on tumblr #fiction #fantasy #short fiction

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peachsayshi · 3 years

Note

Could I request 16 with Geto? 💙💙💙

“I want to mark you all over.”

A/N: Hello! <3 Thank you for the request! I am sorry it took me a while to post lol my drafts are chaotic as hell. I decided to write some soft smut with angst for this one, this is how I imagine Suguru will be if he was in a relationship with a Non!Sorcerer after going off the rails. My Geto brain rot has been on overdrive so this was perfect for me to let loose on my fave boi. I hope you enjoy it! xx Request was based off this prompt list. please keep in mind I do not have a beta and am so sorry if there are any mistakes. I try I swear, and I promise to fix anything that I might have missed hehe

TAGS: (18+, minors DNI) smut, angst, feels, possessive!Suguru, unprotected sex.

CURSED

Your relationship is at a standstill. Instead of being embraced in your lover’s warmth, you were now stuck in a state of cold separation. One which caused a serious ache from how much you missed having your partner around. You’ve started seeing the changes in him, a switch that was flickering on and off in that beautiful mind of his. You hoped that through your conversations you might be able to draw him out from the dark cloud he’s surrounded himself in. Yet, you were unsuccessful.

You were concerned when Suguru started disappearing for days. You tried to engage with him in some way, even relaying your worries but nothing seemed to come out of it. You could feel him slipping through your fingers, unaware of how quickly the darkness had descended upon him and how fast he lost himself to the shadows.

Then he was gone.

You never broke up. He never told you that he stopped loving you or that he didn’t want to be together anymore. He just disappeared without a trace and there was still a string that tethered you to him. The next time you heard someone bring up Suguru’s name around you it was to inform you that the love of your life was a murderer.

The emotional turmoil you felt was indescribable, a constant push and pull battling in your mind between your own disappointment and complete disregard for his actions. Your guilt twisted your insides when you realized that you didn’t care what Suguru did, you just wanted to see him.

Your love for him consumed you, it seeped through your veins and contracted in your lungs. Without him around it’s as if you have been left to drown with no hope of coming up for fresh air. This was not one sided because Suguru loved you with the same intensity. The two of you holding the other as their own in twisted possession. From the moment you fell for him you knew there was no turning back but you didn’t expect life to unfold in the way that it has.

A month went by, maybe two…you weren’t sure anymore...your days blending into one another with every sunrise and sunset. Remnants of your relationship were still made gut wrenchingly clear in the makeshift home you both created. As you lay wide awake in bed, restless and snuggled in one of Suguru’s big comfy t-shirts, you continued to wonder where he could possibly be.

What is he doing? What is he thinking about? And, more than anything else, did he ache in the same way you did?

A knock on the door caught you by surprise, prompting you to spring upright as you quickly switched on the light to illuminate your pitch black room. Your heart was racing as you stumbled out of the sanctuary of your bedroom, the closer you approached the frame of your door the harder your heart pounded against your chest.

You stood behind it, shaking hands reaching for the handle before you quietly cracked it open, only allowing a sliver of light to creep through as you peered through to catch a glimpse of who it is. One look was all it took for you to swing the door open, eyes widening as you locked your gaze onto the individual before you.

Suguru was leaning against the frame, dressed casually in a pair of denim and an oversized hoodie. His hair was much longer from when you last saw him, a waterfall of ink cascading down between his shoulder blades. Those mysteriously deep eyes narrowed their attention on yours, and you could see the curiosity swirl in hues of violet and black as he stepped closer towards you.

Then your heart stopped racing when you realized that this wasn’t just the man you loved anymore. Standing before you was a murderer, somebody who blatantly spewed hatred towards your kind. He had every intention of destroying all non-sorcerers in existence, so what did that mean for his beloved partner?

You couldn’t help but back away, your fight or flight reaction heavily kicking in as he approached you like an unwanted threat. An overbearing, breathtakingly handsome evil that managed to lead you down the hallway to your living room and backing you up against the wall. Your hands were by your sides, fists clenched tightly into balls as he stood just barely an inch away from you. He was looking down at you with intrigue but his lips remained in a firm line, not even giving you the courtesy of a smile.

Seconds passed in silence. You exhaled, unsure of how long you held in your breath and suddenly found yourself blinking back tears. Despite your fear, there was a sense of relief in your gut upon realizing that Suguru was...okay. He was alive and he was here.

“Tell me you didn’t do it. Tell me that Gojo lied about what happened...” you blurted quietly, your voice trembling when you spoke but Suguru appeared stoic as ever. You brought one hand up to his chest, grabbing a fistful of fabric between your fingers and tugging him closer. You stared at him with pleading eyes. In this moment, you weren’t speaking to the malicious curse user but your lover. The person whose smile could ease a thousand woes and whose embrace shrouded you in warmth.

“Say something...” you begged, “You owe me an explanation, an apology. You could at least give me that...”

He furrowed his brows, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and giving it a squeeze. “I have nothing to apologize for.”

His voice sent a shiver down your spine, his words a sharp, cold dagger that plunged right into you. You shook your head in disbelief, “If you have nothing to apologize for, that means you don’t care about what you did. That means you don’t care about what you are putting me through, you don’t care that I am suffering...”

His face only softened when a single tear trailed down your cheek, exhaling as he brought his hands to meet your hips and delicately stroking you in the first tender touch you received in months.

“Are you going to kill me too?” you asked with a sniffle, your attention moving to the ground as you nervously shifted your weight from one foot to the next.

Suguru brought his knuckle to your cheek, wiping away another droplet trickling down your cheek. “Do you really think I am capable of hurting you?”

“Then why else are you here?” you persisted through gritted teeth, your eyes piercing through him and cracking the mask he was wearing. A part of you wanted to push him away but the other half, the side of you that had been craving him like an addict, reached their hands for his biceps to close the distance between you both.

Suguru extended his fingers to cup your jaw in his hand, before leaning down to brush the tip of his nose against yours. You froze when his lips touched yours, an electric bolt shattering deep within you like lightning across the night sky. His kiss smooth and comforting as he tightened his grip on your hip before sliding his tongue between your lips to wrestle against your own.

Your hands reached for the collar of his hoodie, your heels lifting up off the floor as you leaned forward, feeling his hand roam from your hip to your lower back as he pulled you off the wall and into his embrace. The kiss grew urgent, and you savored the taste of him on your tongue as you made up for every second you lost. Meanwhile, Suguru had brought his hands to the hem of your shirt, sliding underneath the cotton fabric to freely roam his touch across the flesh of your skin.

He broke the kiss, drawing his lips to your ear as he whispered, “I’m here because you are the biggest contradiction in my life. One that I cannot seem to escape no matter how hard I try. I would rather cut off my own hands before even thinking of harming you... ”

You trembled, unsure of what to make of his confession. Should you be grateful that you seem to be the exception to his agenda of ridding the world of pathetic monkeys or hurt that you are the very thing that he despises the most in life.

He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he tensed his neck. “I hate that I’m in love with you.”

“I don’t...” you responded almost immediately, your words followed with a chaste kiss. “But I can’t seem to stop loving you no matter how hard I try. Despite what you did, how you’ve been acting around me, what you said and believe in...nothing is enough to make stop, and it kills me.”

When Suguru opened his eyes, all he saw was the truth. What you saw in return is relief in that devastating expression. He expected you to hate him, to curse him and sever any connection you had with him. When you didn’t, it was the thing that broke his resistance and with his fingers intertwined in yours, he brought your hand up to his face and gave you a peck.

In between showering you with kisses, he stripped you of your clothes before dropping his t-shirt you were wearing on the ground and sliding off your underwear. He then proceeded to take off his sweater and jeans, not once lifting his attention from you.

“How long has it been since I touched you?”, he asked in a daze, pressing your back to the wall and molding his body into yours. You circled your arms around his neck, allowing yourself to linger in his embrace as you breathed in the subtle scent of eucalyptus off his skin.

“Too long...” you whispered, threading your fingers through his thick hair and bringing his lips down to meet yours, feverishly kissing him to fill the longing in your chest.

He devoured you with bruising kisses, using both his tongue and teeth to lick and bite, alternating between intimacy and aggression as he was unsure of whether or not he wanted to be gentle or rough with you. His actions as conflicting as the thoughts that raced through his mind. He wanted so badly to tear you apart, to forget any memories the two of you ever shared but this moment only revealed the truth that he will forever be plagued by his love for you.

“I want to mark you all over...” he rasped, his breath trailing to your neck as he left his imprints on your skin. You merely sighed into his touch, your back relaxing against the wall as you allowed him to claim you in whichever way he desired.

His lips traveled to the valley between your chest, his tongue dragging up across to taste your skin before moving to your breast. He was taking his time to leave blemishes, and you drew in a sharp breath when he finally circled his mouth over your areola. A shiver ran up your body as he bit down on your nipple, his big hands digging into your lower back forcefully, ensuring that he painted you with his touch. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud, before releasing you from his lips with a pop.

“I want everyone to know who you belong to...” he murmured against you, dropping down to his knees and you inhaled feeling his hot breath between your legs. Both hands moved to separate your thighs, exposing your wet slit for him and he licked his lips like a ravenous wolf ready to devour his meal. He squeezed your plush flesh, feeling you tremble in his hands as he whirled his tongue around your clit before entering two fingers inside you with ease.

You were already so wet for him.

His strokes were languid, your warmth coating his digits which were now glistening with your arousal. He dragged his fingers out to spread your lips, before tracking that devilish mouth of his to flick his tongue between your folds. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he ate you out without single shame of how he chose to assault this sweet pussy of yours.

You knocked your head back against the wall, thinking of all the moments he rendered you unconscious just by this sinful act alone. Your stance wavered as you tried your best not to erupt too quickly and you could hear Suguru groan with approval before spreading your legs further apart to give him better access, swallowing every bit of nectar that dripped between your legs. He worked his tongue on you until you were quaking, your moans almost inaudible as you came undone right there the middle of your living room.

A weight lifted off your shoulders as your orgasm rippled through you but this was only the start. Suguru pulled you down to meet him on the ground, laying your back against the surface of your wooden floor as he kept your legs wide open for him.

Usually, he would eat you out for hours, giving you at least two more orgasms before proceeding to work you with his fingers. He loved taking his time to bring you to the edge, leaving you a blubbering mess beneath him whenever he chose to pleasure you. However, tonight was different. The man was insatiable, having spent months trying to avoid you with every chance he got. The only way he knew how to resist his own temptations was to ensure to remove himself from your presence but that did nothing to help the current situation he was in. He had deprived himself for so long that he refused to carry on this cruel torture for a minute longer.

He brought the length of his cock to meet you soaked cunt, holding you open by the knees as he entered you, a deep sigh escaping him as he held himself there for a second, feeling your walls pulse as you clenched around him. The muscles in his shoulders relaxed, and he hummed with approval from the familiar sensation of connecting your body with his own.

You felt so full with him inside you. Your back arching off the floor as he began motioning back and forth to fuck you. Your shoulder blades rubbed against the surface of the ground, the friction painful but you were too distracted by the pleasure of your lover fucking you to even care.

“Suguru...” you moaned, “feels s’good...soo good...”

He watched the eyes roll to the back of your head, your needy state forcing him to thrust deeper. His hands secured your weight on your upper thigh before lifting your lower body off the floor as he continued his action, groaning with sheer amusement as you interlocked your ankles behind him, your body begging him to go push further.

This is all you wanted, all you have been craving for months. With one hand combing through the roots of your hair, the other reached for your clit which you massaged for added stimulation, your hips rolling along with Suguru’s movements until felt yourself spasm uncontrollably.

“I will claim you in every way possible...” he mused as he increased his pace, his thrusts impaling you deeply to the point where you were seeing flecks of white right before your eyes.

“S-Suguru...I’m-I’m gonna...”, you puffed, barely able to formulate your words as you succumbed to him. If Suguru considered you his weakness, then he was yours. The two of you balanced each other perfectly, the scale only tipping into a turbulent state once he lifted his weight. Right now, with him before your eyes, nothing about what you were doing felt wrong. Instead, everything felt like it was falling right back in place.

“I know, sweetheart. I know...” he reassured, your words merely going over his head. His knees were probably bruised as well from the position he was in, but he didn’t stop until the next beautiful moment played out, where a feral scream escaped you as you came all over his cock, your body contorting like an acrobat below him. He was the only man who could leave you in this state, the only person whose pleasure was enough to have you go limp. Which is exactly what happened as your body began to relax, but Suguru held you in place with his strength as he gave you a few more powerful thrusts before releasing thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, his cock still buried between your legs. He helped adjust your positions, so you were both laying side by side to face one another. You were both trying to catch your breath, your leg was thrown over his hip while his hand is resting perfectly on your pelvis as he pulled you closer to him. Your brushed a rogue strand of hair away from his face, your fingers trailing his jaw before you pressed your forehead to his own.

“Do you really detest me?” you asked innocently, pecking him softly on the neck and ignoring the soreness radiating up and down your body.

Suguru closed his eyes, your words shattering him in places he didn’t even know he could hurt. Yes, he loathed humans but you were the anomaly in this grand plan he had for the future. He would bury everyone but keep you alive purely for his own selfish reasons.

“It would be much easier if I did,” he replied.

Suguru kept you awake until the morning as the two of you made love for the rest of the night. The sounds of your moans and declarations of affection bounced off the walls, in between were promised whispers of devotion, the two of you guaranteeing that nothing will keep you apart. You didn’t even remember when you fell asleep but woke up the next morning tucked safely in your blankets.

As you opened your eyes to try and adjust yourself to your surroundings, a heartbreaking thought crossed your mind when you figured that this was all just a dream.

But when you saw your reflection in the mirror, your naked body told a different story. You winced as you glanced over your shoulder to see your back, before tracing your fingers from the corner of your mouth, down your neck, to your breasts and between your legs...

Every mark a reminder of the man who possessed you, a physical manifestation of the map to Suguru Geto’s heart.

#Geto Suguru #Suguru Geto #suguru getou #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #Geto Suguru x You #Geto Smut #Geto Angst #Suguru Geto x Reader #Suguru Geto x You #Jujutsu Kaisen x Reader #Jujutsu Kaisen x You #Jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Text

"Stop fucking looking at me like that!"

Referencing this post I made, I thought why not :’D

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Rummaging through the big chest, Enderman supplied it with the new items he gathered. Meat, vegetables, a potion for the worst case. Buckets of water and milk, everything you needed to have as a human. It should be enough to last at least for the upcoming weak, but you had been complaining about it rotting and molding since you couldn’t eat it fast enough or preserve it. You were also craving fruits. Biting his lip, he thought hard about how to accommodate your wishes better when he suddenly heard the growling of a zombie nearby, making him come to an immediate stop.

If he was quiet enough, the zombie shouldn’t be able to make you out inside this little, sparely filled room he created. No one said it would be easy to accumulate enough obsidian to build this hut. Still, it was the only way to keep you safe, even if it took him forever. All these monsters and treacherous villagers outside were after you, and even if he was able to keep them at bay for a long time, what if one day he couldn’t be around to keep you from harm? Perhaps it wasn’t a very pretty domicile, but it was safe. The only light source was one window, but he built it high enough so no zombie, skeleton, or creeper would be able to look through it. He collected a bed for you, chests, and books from the village, but that was all there was to keep you busy.

Enderman listened intently, waiting for the footsteps and grunts to disappear before he could let out a sigh of relief. Even with all the precautions he made, one could never be too safe. Even if he wasn’t worried about himself, if it was for you, he’d do everything to keep you far away from the dangerous mobs roaming the world. Continuing to pack your chest with edibles, he didn’t notice you slowly waking up, rising behind him. Enderman made a point out of coming at night rather than day to avoid the one thing that made him uncomfortable. While he would have loved interacting with you, the human custom of keeping eye contact was something he could never bear to endure. Not even for you.

Even now, your eyes drilling into his back, he began to shake anxiously, hoping you’d recognize him and go back to sleep.

But you didn’t.

You never did.

“It’s late,” he chuckled nervously, slowly closing the lid of the chest before standing up. He had to raise the ceiling quite a bit after realizing he couldn’t fit the space after he built it. Even if he could teleport in and out at his leisure, with his size, it would have been hard to stay with you in an emergency had he kept it at his first draft. But he learned that humans quite liked high ceilings, and secretly he hoped that meant you liked him too, considering his size.

“You should be sleeping. I brought new food, so you can rest assured.”

Was he just talking to overcome the awkwardness? You’ve been nearly killing him with this silent treating of yours, only ever looking at the back of his head. It was unfathomable why you’d treat him with such disrespect. He had voiced his discomfort more than once, but you insisted that you hated his treatment of you, and as such, he’d have to endure the same. But how could you? All of this was only ever in your best interest. Out there, you’d have done the same to keep safe - build a home and gathered food - so why did you hate it when he did it? Wasn’t he good to you? Didn’t he try his best to fulfill all your wishes? Was it too much to ask for that you were safe under his care?

“Please stop,” he whispered with clenched teeth, the shaking of his body getting stronger. “What more do I need to do to make you stop looking at me like that?”

“Let me go,” you finally spoke up, the sound of your voice almost as beautiful as he remembered it--no, even better! A quiet gasp escaped him after finally receiving a word from you, and he turned around for the first time in forever to face you.

A big mistake.

Your eyes met as Enderman suddenly felt overcome with a wave of emotions. He wished it had been only positive ones, but there was no way he could escape his instincts. Doubling over in pain, he grunted, trying to keep himself under control, but to no avail. Even in his state, he could clearly perceive the shuffling of blankets as you got up, noticing the state he was in. Though he wanted to believe you cared for him, it was clear you were merely concerned about what to do if something happened to him. But that would be enough. Even if you just liked him for his use, it would be enough to satisfy him. As long as he could keep you safe, you could use him as much as he wanted.

The obsidian made no sound as he gripped you by the wrists, slamming you into the wall. Your body, on the other hand, made an absolutely horrifying crack, so much so, Enderman feared the worst already. But one look at your eyes showed them clear as day, still very much able to perceive him. Perhaps adrenaline soothed your pain momentarily.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that! I told you so many times to fucking stop! When will you listen?!”

His yell filled the whole space around you two. If he hadn’t been seething with anger, he’d have instantly regretted raising his voice. No less because it could have attracted unwanted visitors. Enderman had never lashed out at you before, never done anything that would put you into the opposite of what he wanted - danger. But here he was, eyes falling to your mouth as your breath hitched, unable to form a word. All you did - finally! - was looking down and away from him before pinching your eyelids close tightly.

Immediately, he felt much calmer, now that you weren’t drilling holes into him anymore. Regaining his senses, he let go of you, letting you plummet back onto the bed he held you above. Whether or not you were in pain wasn’t something either of you seemed to notice. Instead, you were quick to hug yourself, fearful tears rolling from the closed corners of your eyes despite no sobs escaping you. You had no weapons to defend yourself, and a punch didn’t do as much as one of his did to you. It must have been a big shock for you to see the other side of Enderman, one you had a hard time comprehending.

Placing his hand on your shoulder, you flinched noticeably before finally breaking down into crying, collapsing forward onto the mattress. Enderman stood there lost for words or actions to console you, wanting to say something, apologize even! It didn’t matter who’s fault it was, he never wanted to see you hurt or crying! That’s why he did all of this after all!

Instead, he remembered the peculiar thing he found in one of the villages. It was a banner, something he thought you might enjoy hanging up in your tiny home, but when he reached for it now, he had a different idea of what to do with it. Ripping off the bottom wasn’t easy even for him, especially since he allowed no tools or scissors in this safe space. But once he had it, he returned to your side, kneeling next to your bed and lifting your head gently. You tried to turn your face away, but he had a tight grip on you, nudging you to face him. Good as you were, you kept your eyes closed still.

Even if he couldn’t be sure how to do it, he loosely tied the cloth around your head, covering your eyes with it. “W-What…?” you stuttered meekly, feeling the fabric on your skin, and Enderman hushed you gently. “This will do. You won’t be able to look at me this way. You’ll never need to be afraid anymore; this will keep you safe, I promise.”

Whether his assurance went through to you, he couldn’t decide, unable to read your expression as you bit your lip. Your body began to shake again, and it felt almost like his whenever you made him uncomfortable and anxious. Enderman knew this feeling all too well, but you wouldn’t need to bear it alone. He could if he had to, but he wouldn’t let you go through these complicated feelings alone.

Easily, with inhuman strength, he picked you up, sitting down where you had been just seconds ago, and lifted you into his lap. Finally, his big body and long arms were good for something, even if he hadn’t expected it would be comforting you. If it was for him, you two could have continued the relationship you had. Enderman would have simply stayed by your side while you slept, brushing the hair out of your face and pulling up the blanket over you to make sure you had a good rest. You didn’t need to recognize his efforts, and you could even scream at him if you’d prefer that, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He knew you were safe and well-taken care of, and he’d never forget you needed him. That was enough.

But now that he held you in his arms, he wasn’t sure if it was enough for him anymore.

Now that this awful habit of looking at him had been prevented, nothing was stopping him from being close to you. Now he could touch you, hold you, comfort you tenderly! All without fearing what might happen. “It’s going to be alright now,” he hushed you sweetly. “I’m so sorry I lashed out, I will do everything to make it up to you! I’ll bring new books and flowers to decorate with soon, everything will be okay. You can always rely on me; I’ll keep you company from now on, trust me!”

He meant it. Even if he didn’t understand most of the complicated feelings you had, you must have felt relieved as you started to cry even more. And so was he. He was relieved too. Who knew being with you so close, holding you, and swaying back and forth with you felt so wonderful. The only other time he held you, felt your warmth and heartbeat, had been when he teleported you inside of this room. Enderman had always believed that to be the height of all emotions, but he now realized there was so much more! So many more opportunities and feelings to explore. But you had time, right? He wouldn’t be greedy; he’d take his time to explore them all with you and enjoy them thoroughly.

After all, you were safest with him.

And he was the happiest with you.

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shotorozu · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬’ 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝟰𝟬𝟬 & 𝟱𝟬𝟬 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹

character(s) : haikyuu!! - multiple characters

legend : [Y/N = your name] f!reader with they/them pronouns. fluff to the mildest of spice, not nsfw. timeskip

note(s) : so like.. the bnha one did very well, so i wanted to do a haikyuu version of it. im obviously not doing all the boys sadly. (will probably do 3-5 boys per team idk), but i’ll just do as many as i can until my idea train dies. i would add more tags but 30 is the limit so.. sorry. very long overdue because this was in my drafts for the longest time

read more will be added later along with the link to part one.

»»————-　♡　————-««

hinata shoyo

↮ a legs lover. there’s something about them he’s really enamored by. a bonus if you’re shorter than him, and an even bigger bonus if you’re taller than him (if you’re much taller than him since he’s 5′7 in the timeskip, I think) then he’ll pass tf out) he LOVES it when you wear stockings or fishnets, and he loves the way the material contours the shape of your legs. he’ll stare at them a lot, and he will be embarrassed if you catch him, and even more so when the team catches him. please reassure him that it’s fine.

kageyama tobio

↮ loves your chest, regardless of size (but if you must insist, he leans towards bigger sets) is it a thing connecting to milk? he doesn’t really know to be honest. kageyama really loves taking naps on your chest, because he falls asleep pretty fast when he takes naps on your chest. he won’t touch them because he’s a lil hesitant, but he’ll just.. rest his hand on there, and admire the softness. (will suckle on them if you’ll let him. is it a milk thing? again, we don’t know)

kōshi sugawara

↮ your lower back is his favorite. it’s not so common as “breasts” or “ass” but, he has good reasoning behind his favorite! in general, he loves his face, but he loves just laying his hand on your lower back. there’s just something about looking at you from behind that makes his heart pound 10x faster. oh and, he really loves putting kisses on there, because every time your back will be towards him in your shared room, he’ll catch a glimpse of those little bite marks. he’s smug, and he’s very proud of them, especially because you can only see them.

tsukishima kei

↮ he’s stuck between hands, tiddies and neck, but for the sake of this post- we’ll settle for hands. they’re so much smaller than his?? like.. he wonders how that’s possible, and he’ll probably tease you about it. (uh.. how can someone’s hands be that long? tf tsuki) it’s canon that he fiddles with his fingers when nervous, so when he’s with you- he’ll fiddle with your fingers instead. he also finds himself playing with your fingers, memorizing all of the details of your fingers. if you offer to put on bandages on his fingers whenever he gets hurt or something similar, he’ll get very bashful. but please do that!! he loves that a lot. with tiddies, his preference is definitely on the smaller side ngl

kozume kenma

↮ collarbones to him are ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ “mwah.” so elegant, so beautiful. how did this happen? well- he was doing work one day (like the rich man he is) and you sit on his lap per usual- but !! your collarbones were all up in his face. he’ll get very red, and lose focus, so give him a heads up. wear shirts that show off your collarbones, and he’ll stare hard. so yeah. he loves resting his face on them, and he’ll occasionally give you kisses, ranging from cute lil ones, to the wet open mouth kisses.

yaku morisuke

↮ yaku likes short hair, i repeat- he likes short hair. therefore!! his favorite part would be your upperback/neck. it really depends if you’re taller than him or shorter than him. tbh idk how tall that man is in the timeskip (but he sexy af) but he always loves resting his hand on your upperback, regardless if you have long hair or short hair. if you’re shorter than him, he’ll pull you in for a hug with a hand on your upperback, and if you’re taller— he’ll rest his head on your shoulder, hand loosely hung around your back.

lev haiba

↮ this man screams legs man. like.. i also don’t really have much evidence to back this up, but this man has this weird attraction to your legs. he’ll probably make you walks in front of him so he can take a good stare at your legs. doesn’t matter if they’re long, skinny legs— or short ones! he just adores legs. lev is really tall so.. please put your legs on him, he’ll be in heaven. his preference definitely leans on long legs though.. he just really likes them :)

oikawa tōru

↮ uh ok.. i had a difficult time with deciding with this one tbh, but this man loves your waist. at first, i thought he was a tiddies man, which.. i feel like he is? but not that much of a tiddies man compared to being a waist man. his favorite way to greet you is to hug you from behind, hands resting on your waist as he inhales your scent. he’ll probably bite the soft skin on your waist as a way to tease you, that is.. if you allow him lol

iwaizumi hajime

↮ man is a collarbone man, change my mind. again, i partially feel like he also loves thighs and ass but look!! collarbones. he loves seeing them when you wear baggy clothes, unintentionally showing off your collarbones to him. his mind goes haywire at the sight. loves putting kisses on your collarbones, occasionally putting hickies there— but he also doesn’t wanna inflict pain on your collarbones so.. hickies are not a common thing. but don’t worry! he has a lot of ways to show you his love for collarbones.

akaashi keiji

↮ definitely a collarbone/hands type of guy. he has a strong affixiation towards them, it came to the point that even bokuto noticed that he had some sort of attachment to them. he just loves admiring collarbones, especially if they’re adorn with shiny necklaces, or just anything that’ll make them look amazing. as for hands, he loves playing with the tip of your fingers— tracing from your wrists, to the back of your hands, to your fingertips.

bokuto koutarou

↮ thighs :)) his preference is “the bigger, the better” and it’s literally canon too. he doesn’t mind smaller thighs, but he’s such a sucker of huge thighs. i guess it’s because he has thick thighs himself so that’s why bigger girls gravitate towards him. there’s always a hand on your thigh if you sit on his lap, and before games, he finds himself patting your thighs for good luck (he’ll never smack them because man’s highkey gonna leave marks on you)

ushijima wakatoshi

↮ thighs. thighs. thighs. man absolutely loves them, more so if they’re a little bit on the thicker side, but obviously— if this man loves you, he’ll love all of you. head really empty, and it’s just him gripping on your thighs while he drives the car, practically having a vice grip on your poor thighs— but it’s okay, because he’ll rub the irritated spot with a gentle touch, his baritone voice apologizing to you. not really big on words, but.. he’ll stare at your thighs a lot.

tendou satori

↮ has a thing for your hips. hm tbh, i was stuck between him having a thing for your neck and thighs— but he absolutely loves hips, just as any other intellectual. he loves squishing the plump flesh between his skinny fingers, and he also loves tapping on them while you stand infront of him doing.. with small hips, he still likes holding on then. okay but,, he also really loves hip dips. even he can’t explain it, he’ll just repeat him— telling you he loves hip dips. he really loves the silhoutte of them. so yeah, if you’re insecure, he’ll punt your insecurities until they rot :)

semi eita

↮ he admires your hands, it’s just that.. they feel so much softer than his, and the size difference between your hand and his hand makes his mind go haywire, his heart pounding against his chest. his hands are still in top shape, but over the years— they definitely roughened a bit due to practicing guitar and other instruments for his band, so his heart will definitely swoon if you put lotion on them. he’s also the type that would kiss the back of your hand before gigs for good luck, only to kiss them after his shows, saying he did well because of you :)

rintarou suna

↮ a thighs man for sure. the bigger thighs the better, it’s just his preference. not saying he hates small thighs though— thighs will be thighs. however!! his preference just loves squishy thighs. if you were to squeeze them around his head— he’d surely die a happy man. doesn’t care where y’all are and who you guys are with, he’s 100% going to put his hand on your thigh. if you decide to wear clothes revealing your thighs, or just.. tight fitted jeans or leggings, expect him to squeeze the soft flesh that’s there. he’ll definitely make a remark about how your thighs expand like crazy when you sit down, but he doesn’t mean it in a insulting way. he actually really loves it.

kita shinsuke

↮ he loves everything about you, so it really takes him a while to actually settle on something. one day— he’ll be touching your thighs, another day he’ll be holding your waist, then another day, he has his hand gliding over your collarbones. eventually, he settles on favoriting your hands, because he can hold them regardless of the setting. he can kiss them, hold them, and intertwin his fingers all he likes.

the miya twins

↮ OSAMU LOVES TIDDIES, AND ATSUMU LOVES ASS :) i don’t make the rules.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading! (can y’all tell i got a little exhausted with writing the miya twins lol)

i do not own haikyuu!!/hq!! and it’s characters. haikyuu belongs to haruichi furudate, i only own the writing.

do not plagiarize my work :))

edit : just realized y’all like haikyuu so.. please submit haikyuu headcanon ideas

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nanamishair · 3 years

Note

girl. u better post that headcanon youve been talking about its basically rotting in your drafts

okay bitch

jjk men professing their love

this is purely my opinion of how i think they’d tell their liking to s/o!

characters: gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, inumaki toge

warnings: these are just some cringe and cliche stuff, really just trying to clear my drafts hehe, also i have side comments and those maybe annoying im sorry ;-;, grammar errors and typos!

Gojo Satoru

We all know this man is confident so he’ll probably confidently and straightforwardly say to you he likes you

But one problem is you only took it as a way for his flirting

He thought that was easy but boy, he did not expect you won’t sincerely believe him

Now he keeps on thinking about how he’ll tell you he likes you without you thinking it was purely for flirting purposes

You both were just chilling peacefully somewhere and he just looks at you and admires you as you stared happily at your students

“Hey, I know I have said I like you. But I’m just going to say it again, I like you. For real.”

And finally, you did not take it as his way of flirting. Red cheeks covered your and Gojo’s cheeks

he’s hopeful you’d reciprocate his feelings but who wouldn’t be right >.> he’s just relieved that you finally felt sincere of his confession

He’s nervous on what you’ll reply but he’ll accept whatever you’ll finally say to his confession

Nanami Kento

First of all, I honestly think he won’t tell you he likes you because we all know this man wants to protect the people around him ;-;

But okay let’s say this man finally took the courage and chance to confess to you

I always think that he’ll confess at night, or some time when you both will part ways already like when he has brought you at the bus stop or your apartment

You know, that way after he confesses and he gets a reply from you (or not, he’ll probably give you time to think about it) he can already go home or sleep

“I have thought about this so much y/n and I really wanted to tell you that I like you so much.”

He may look so calm about it BUT HE’S SO NERVOUS AND HE STUTTERED ALOT OF TIMES, FOR REAL

He’d be cool with whatever you’d reply him!

You like him back? He’ll be relieved and happy about it

You don’t feel the same? He’ll still feel the same and would just maintain the friendship you both have

Itadori Yuuji

I think Yuuji is the type to not know he likes you until someone teases him for that

He’ll spend more time with you to confirm that he likes you, he doesn’t want to confess to you just because his friends tease him UwU

But okay, Yuuji is a sweet boy and I headcanon that he’ll buy flowers or chocolates to give you on the day he’ll confess

I don’t know why but I think he’s actually chill about confessing!

Like he’ll give you the chocolate and confess

“You know, I really enjoy being with you. I thought about it and I do confirm that I like you.”

He flashes that signature smile of him ;’)

Both of your cheeks be on the red hue and he’s just there standing, waiting for your reply

Just like Nanami, he’d be completely fine with whatever you’d reply to his confession hihi

If you do reject him and he notices you feel kind of awkward with him, he’ll try to get you at ease coz he still wants you by his side even as his friend only UwU

Fushiguro Megumi

This guy keeps on stealing glances at you as if he’d be able to tell you he likes you in that way

He’s encouraged by Yuuji and teased by Gojo (Gojo would probably ask Megumi if he wants to set you up with him somewhere but megumi just screams no)

I do feel like he’ll just say it on the spot when he feels like it is the best time for both of you, something like a very chill day

But the words just won’t come out, his mouth be opening and closing like 0.0 0o0 0.0 0o0

You’d notice this and ask him if he was fine, and instead of answering your question, he’d confess

“I like you y/n. a lot.”

Okay he’d curse mentally because that wasn’t what he imagined he’d tell you, he was hoping he could also tell you about your smiles and laughs that makes his heart go fast (not to mention that he stuttered just from that short sentence)

Anyway, what’s done is done that’s what he tells himself after confessing to you, now he’s just waiting for what you’d reply

He’s fine with whatever you’ll reply too! (but i feel like he’ll cry at his room when you reject him ;-; )

Inumaki Toge

Cutie boy be stressed how to tell you he likes you because of his cursed speech

But he decides on a handwritten letter and maybe he’d give you your favorite rice ball (im a sucker for handwritten letters and rice balls)

He wasted a lot of paper coz he wants it perfect because its the best way he could relay his feelings to you UwU

He’ll give the letter to you on a day he’s sure you’re in a great mood

His hand is shaking while handing you the letter and the rice ball, he’s trying to stop the shaking but it makes his hand shake more (protect him please)

He looks at you nervously as he watches you read his short letter

“Hello! I don’t how many papers I have wasted already just to write you this. but here it goes. Y/n, I like you so much. My heart flutters whenever I see you, no enough rice balls can express how much i like you. Hope this letter and rice ball finds a way into your heart.”

He’s cheesy but that’s what makes it so cute and special please UwU

He also wrote in the letter a specially made ingredient for you which is equivalent to i like you, so he can verbally tell you too that he likes you and maybe later on, the ingredient will also be equivalent to i love you if things go well! 🥺 (protect!!!)

This boy is so hopeful that you’d reciprocate his feelings (you do not have an option to reject him period jk)

He’s happy and will hug you immediately when you reciprocate his feelings

But if you do reject him, he’ll force an eye smile and go straight to panda and cry (i said u dont have an option to reject him¡!¡ jk)

#nanamishair #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #gojo satoru #nanami kento #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #inumaki toge

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smolla-than-a-bug · 3 years

Text

you’re definitely flirting with me

—jason todd x villain!reader

second and final part to are you flirting with me. can be read as a stand-alone tho

navi | bat boys m.list | are you flirting with me

content — language, blood, mentions of harassment, mildly suggestive (use of the word ‘daddy’ but ironically)

notes — i know that its literally been years and that i formerly posted a part two to are you flirting with me, but looking back, i didn't like how it turned out. i did find a fun drabble in my drafts with villain!reader as well, so i decided to rewrite it and use it as a continuation. i actually deleted the old parts personally, i prefer this version of the end!

"I'm in."

"Hot. You should be able to see–"

"Nothing?"

Silence.

"Is this your way of telling me you're visually impaired?"

"I will scoop your eyes out in your sleep."

"Please use an ice cream scooper. My eyeballs would fit so well, it would be so satisfying–"

"Harper."

"Okay, okay. What do you mean nothing?"

"By nothing I mean nothing, ball sack. The warehouse is fucking empty."

Frantic rustling of papers and violent knocking of objects could be heard on Roy's end of the line. Jason sighed, going to pinch the bridge of his nose before realizing he had a helmet on.

The whole situation was throwing him off his rhythm — that much was evident. The intel they had collected on the gang of criminals seemed too obvious, too predictable. Jason had his suspicions, but Roy was quick to shut him down. 'Dude, trust me,' he said. Famous last words.

A crackle of static sounded in his earpiece. Roy's voice urgent and choppy before completely dying out. Jason could only attempt to call out to his partner in the hopes of a full response, but his efforts brought no avail. That's another thing that went wrong today.

"Hey, sexy."

What in the fuck.

"Your ass looks great from this angle. The party you're looking for is in a bar on the other side of the city, by the way."

You couldn't actually see him, but he doesn't need to know that. It's just your thing to mess with him, and by the sounds of him cussing you out for hacking into his means of communication, it was working. It was amusing. He kept you entertained.

That was all you had to say to him for now though, so you bid him goodbye. The roaring of his motorcycle over his colorful language directed at you was the last thing you heard before you cut off and allowed his partner to get back on the line.

"Jaybird? You there?"

"Ah, you're back. I'm never trusting you with getting intel again."

"Whatever. Anyway, was that...?"

"Yeah. Y/v/n."

"Hm. I don't know what she's on, but you have no ass like–"

"And yet I have more ass than you, so shut the fuck up, paddle board."

“That... That was a bit harsh, bro.”

Soft gushes of wind blew against your masked face. You shut your eyes, feeling the breeze and relishing in your little moment of peace. Lazily pacing, you hummed a random tune.

Your mischief and cunningness is something your alias was known for. Most often, it's a convenient trait to be able to slip around with ease and get the job done in a snap, but sometimes you get bored. It can be such a drag when nobody tries a confrontation with you. That's why you're so fond of the Red Hood. It's a shame that it's been a while since you've seen him around, so imagine your delight when you feel a familiar presence behind you.

You took a seat at the edge of the building. To anyone, you would've looked like you were having your main character moment, peacefully looking over the city if not for the small pile of bodies rotting away not too far from you. The dried blood on your attire and your fingers no longer irked you in the slightest. It's something you've gotten used to, which lead to your habit of picking the blood under your nails. Red gets annoyed when you do this — all the more reason to entertain your habit in front of him.

You let your legs dangle over the edge without a care. You didn't bother to greet the vigilante, who currently had a gun aimed at your back. Sigh.

“Oh, I do hate the sight of blood.”

“Well then, maybe — just maybe — you shouldn’t kill for a living.”

That got you to turn your head to face him. You cock an eyebrow — doesn’t he kill for a living too? Sure, his victims are usually criminals and thugs while yours are people you’re paid to target, usually business owners and the occasional politician, but you digress. Details. The point is, he kills people too.

A few seconds of staring and prolonging the tension passed, and Jason weighed his options before eventually putting down his gun. He then opted to join you on the ledge.

“So,” he started, “what’s your favorite color?”

Funny.

“Sweetheart, if you thought you’d be able to keep me entertained with small talk... I think I’d rather you shot me.”

You stood up from your spot on the ledge and leaned over the rooftop to examine your altitude. You grin to yourself.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t answer. You want to see something. Instead you turn your body to face Jason and mockingly salute him before leaping off the building, though not before you heard him call out your alias’ name and yell a panicked ‘Wait!’

Immediately after you, Jason followed. You chuckled when you saw him get closer. You enjoyed fooling him around almost as much as you enjoyed fooling around with him.

With no time to waste, he pulled out his grappling hook, yanked your body by the waist, and zipped to the rooftop of the nearest building — one different from the last one you were on.

Jason‘s heaving chest radiated distress.

“You’re fucking insane! You could have died!”

You stood in front of him, arms crossed and your stance relaxed. Nobody would’ve suspected that you literally jumped off a building just a few seconds ago. Aw, you pout, he cares about me.

“Would’ve made your job easier. You know, you heroes are supposed to get rid of the bad guys.”There’s humor in your eyes. Jason knows you’re enjoying this. He hates how much you enjoy this. “So, why’d you save me?”

“Why’d you help me with my mission last time?”

He’s deflecting. Cute.

“Hey, I asked you a question first.” You know he won’t budge til you give him an answer. He’s probably been asking himself that question since it happened. You mentally pout, aww he thinks of me. Sigh. Okay, fine.

“The gang you were after just so happened to have given me a job a little while ago.” You recall some of the gang members attempting to grope you. Some unpleasant memories you’d rather live without. “Pissed me off. Now your turn.”

Why’d you save me?

A pause. He shifted to look to the side. Oh, this is interesting.

“You could have died.” Ah, this again.

“Well, you’ve died,” you remind him. “Not that it really stuck.”

He says your name — your real name. You wonder when he discovered your identity, but then again, you’re not all that surprised. It’s him after all.

He can see your growing smile the longer he refuses to answer your question. He knows you’re already thinking of something, and still opts to ignore your question, allowing you to further indulge in your thoughts. He dreads you enlightening him; he knows it’s coming. Jason could not fathom how one woman could frustrate him so much.

“You like me.” There it is, he thinks. There’s your stupid smirk and your dumb air of arrogance.

“Come on, just admit it, hot shot. You can’t live without me.” Okay, maybe that one’s a bit of a stretch (just a bit), but you stand by it nonetheless.

You grin wide as you approach him. Leaning slightly forward to grab Jason by the collar and pull him down to meet your eyes, you repeat yourself.

“You like me.” Stated with more emphasis, like a significant fact that you try to drill into your head when studying for an exam.

“I’ll shoot you.”

“Please, daddy.”

tags — @iwriteaboutstuff @comicsgirlimagines @httpfandxms

#bat family #batfam #imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #bat boys #red hood imagine #the red hood #red hood #red hood x reader #roy harper #arsenal #reader insert #dc comics

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rataltouille · 3 years

Text

HOUSE PLANTS, UPDATE 7

[novel intro can be found here]

HEY ACTUALLY I FINISHED THIS BOOK!

i don't want to get too sentimental [watch me proceed to get sentimental] but this book means a lot to me and i really could NOT have done it without the support of the wonderful folks on writeblr. the writing community is kind of the reason i even started this novel so it means a lot to me that i’ve met so many of y’all here. this is my first ever novel and i’m so glad i was able to make it so far! here are the final stats:

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 81,049 words.

STARTED: april 17, 2020

FINISHED: january 28, 2021

AVERAGE CHAPTERWISE WC: 3242

NUMBER OF CHAPTERS: 25

NUMBER OF TIMES LILITH SNAPS: 2

NUMBER OF TIMES LILITH SUFFERS: you know it’s too much to count.

the last month of writing this novel was so mixed. like before i hit the 70k mark i’d just been slogging through the novel, feeling uninspired and bored of the story. and then january hit and i was like. wait a minute. my deadline to finish it was the 31st of january. and so i basically startled myself into drafting again and then hit another wc milestone and that motivated me?? so much??? like i remember that drafting the penultimate chapter took me a pretty long time but it was so enjoyable because i was genuinely liking what i was writing and that hadn't been happening for the past few months. and then i wrote the entirety of the last chapter [it’s a vignette so it’s pretty short] for an hour until 1 am in my bed with the lights off and boom. it was such an experience. what makes it even more fun is that i’d drafted 75% of the book in my bed with the lights off at 1 am so this was such a nice full circle moment.

i’m also a little insane from all that lack of sleep but it’s okay we don't talk about that.

excerpts:

chapter twenty-one

this one’s a mix of the weirdest and most broad emotions. there’s a funeral in town, willow’s acting shadier than usual, lilith and juniper finally kiss, etc. etc. literally a rollercoaster. also it’s important that you guys know they kissed in a graveyard. nothing’s more romantic than that amirite.

Residual— that’s how we all felt. Just shells that wash away right before they touch land. We lingered like sleep at dawn, like medicine rimming the lip of cough syrup bottles, like fingerprints on fresh glass. There wasn't a permanence in the way we persisted, because eventually, one leaves their nest. They untether from the source in pursuit of the world. How would a dead girl do that? She won’t reside on the fringes of life like a bad dream.

god this prose is so depressing. even i’m getting sad over it and i’m literally an emotionless husk of a person. hey but the description slaps so enjoy.

also if you’ve noticed i’ve been sharing excerpts less and less in the updates despite the chapters being longer on length [these chapters average at like. 5k words] and that’s because i’m finding it harder to share stuff that doesn’t need context / isn't spoilery.

chapter twenty-two

ah yes the angstiest chapter, probably. something happens to willow that lilith blames herself for and this kicks off the final cluster of events that lead to the climax. i love this chapter because lilith gets angry [but at the wrong person aka herself] and we get to see this side of her she always tries to hide!! another thing that happens is that her garden withers so that’s a fun trip

My garden could have been a fallen kingdom. The ferns were rotting from under the flap, their spores gone. Gardenia blooms had split with their petals discarded like an evening gown all around the pots. The mint had binary fissioned and lay in shreds, the jasmine wilted and spread. All of them like war dolls, casualties of my ignorance, beyond saving.

poor garden :/

chapter twenty-three

this chapter. exists i guess. ISDNJSDUH i sound so disillusioned but essentially this chapter was supposed to end on a the ✨big reveal✨ that the book has been leading up to but then something. happened. and i had to move that into the next chapter and so nothing actually happens in this one! like it’s all important things and we’re setting up tension but overall it’s the least eventful of the final story arc.

We stepped together into our house; it had been abandoned for a day but was the exact same. Dust hadn't suddenly piled up in the threshold, sticking to our soles. The air hadn't musted over in the house’s grieving for its sole occupants. The bathtub was still filled. The water skimmed the floor, and I’d decided. I’d stay with you for the whole week, the fortnight, the month, the year. I’d stay inside with you, because me leaving the house, me choosing to spend any second of my life without caring for you, was a mistake. I’d always seen you as fragile, quiet like moth wings and just as delicate. Maybe I’d needed to feel I was protector just as much as I thought you needed me.

i really like this excerpt because it’s very simple and light in terms of prose but also the implications and that purposeful telling at the end really stick with me. exposing lilith since 2k20.

As morning rose the next day, like a curtain lifting, the sun picked itself up from the horizon, shattering cloudlines in a bright, orange glow. The skies got clearer by the hour as summer sauntered in again. Already the habits of my grounding were kicking in; my circadian rhythm bounded to my outside, too, as I instinctively scheduled and compartmentalized my daily life. First, wake up, check on you. Finish chores while making sure you’re alright. School, eaten with worry, but you're capable and you’ll call if you need help. Home, count your pulse as you inevitably slumped in plush sleep— at the coffee table, at the bathtub, in Aunt Hailey’s chair (rare), in your bedroom (rarer). You’d wake for dinner and read until the lights begin to dim and your eyesight tripped. You’d doze off for the rest of the night. Your internal clock was more functional, more efficient, than mine.

obligatory rhythmic everyday life excerpt that's reminiscent of 2020.

chapter twenty-four

THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER! THE LONGEST CHAPTER!! THE ONE WHERE SHIT GOES DOWN!!! [can you tell it’s my fave chapter]

this took me two whole weeks to draft [it’s around 7.2k words] but it was so enjoyable the whole time!! there’s something so satisfying about making the quiet character, the one who never express anger, finally snap. so satisfying. lilith is actually pretty feral in this and we all stan. it also has a lot of simpler yet more sharp prose? if you know me you know that repetition is literally my favourite device ever. i overuse repetition it’s actually insane. and this one has a lot of that, but in a way that isn't annoying, and i really enjoyed writing it!!

I’d never been in your bathtub before. You haunted the room and it was always yours; I didn’t consider running the tap for myself. Maybe your going out prompted me this time. The water was so high it sloshed over the lip of the tub. The floor was slick like eels’ skin. My skin was blue with cold; the chill gummed my cheeks and ears and I shivered. My reflection stared at me in hatred, the features warped and pulled like taffy. I half-floated, a ghost in liminal space, and the walls were choked with water lines and flower patterns. With my body invaded by alien frost, with the ceiling low and cruel and ready to crush, I cowered. How did you do this every day? Did the clothes make the difference?

lilith’s going through it again ft. willow’s bathtub.

after this it’s a lot of incredibly spoilery stuff!! like the prose slaps but it’s too many spoilers to share. but have another description of the heaviness of midnight because i’m obsessed with that aesthetic

The lock clicked behind me. Silence descended like birdsong and I was paralysed, stuck at the two half-stairs that led to the outer path, stuck at the threshold of no return. My body shook. All around me was nighttime, gooey and heavy. I was unfurling, like a rose, step after step, pushing past the gate and onto the road. The wind was so cold it frosted my tears.

btw the chapter does not end on lilith crying she kind of has a girlboss moment and snaps massively [i mean after all she’s been through she deserves it] and then the main story aka the fictive past ends.

chapter twenty-five

the final chapter, which also happens to be a vignette chapter and is thus set in the fictive present! it’s very short and is only one tiny scene but it really ends on the perfect tonal quality for the novel. i can't share any excerpts because it really is very short so! have this iconic screenshot i took as soon as i finished the draft instead:

[also if you were wondering yes i did type the entire novel [and basically everything i write] on my ipad because i don't own a laptop]

and that really is it! this was such an incredible journey and i’m so excited to share more of my newer writing and upcoming projects with y’all. it feels so weird that this really is the last time i’ll be making official posts about this novel. truly the end of an era.

house plants taglist: @discreet-writer @mp-golfin @jaydewritesfiction @writer-in-monochrome @magnus-s-writes @firesidefantasy @sugarlessbubblegum @theoldcity @n1ghth4wkz @remi-writes-sometimes @suninks @dreamybellatrixanvm @camusbf @fablemancy @isherwoodj @svpphicwrites @spillme @sunwornpages @bijouxs @asadlitficwriter @bookphobe @sirius-xthem @carlyiswriting @hekat-ie

general taglist: @lovingyou-is @haldimilks @andiwriteunderthemoon @coffeeandcalligraphy @shaelinwrites @tuoyu @charles-joseph-writes @eklavvya @wolf-oak @bitterwitchwrites @laughtracksonata @whatwordsdidnttouch @indeliblewrites @thenataliawrites @illimani-gibberish @sienna-writes @jennawritesstories @chloeswords @aelenko @keira-is-writing @cherylinanika @infinitely-empty-pages @jmtwrites @august-iswriting @sarahkelsiwrites @freedelusionbanana

tumblr is being. really really annoying and wont let me edit on the browser so i’ve got the 50 mentions per post mobile thing to deal with. the rest of the taglist will be tagged in a reblog!

#writeblr #am writing #crabappletracking #wtwcommunity #atlastracking #ofcolourtracking #house plants #house plants update #everybody say “goodbye house plants” as i yeet willow off a good somewhere #just ignore how i’ve actually finished the book and this update is a month late please and thank you <3

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

Read to me

Found this in my drafts..... I have no idea when I did this or why, so it's definitely unedited but enjoy some happy cressworth before I post the angst of speak now

My wife looks beautiful in the lamplight, her dark curls falling forward and outlining her face. She doesn't notice me glance up from my book at her as she is too engrossed in the autonomy book. Her brows are furrowed slightly in concentration. We have to do some research for a case, and we have been working on it nearly all night. The candles are nearing the end and my eyes are so heavy I feel as though I will fall asleep at any point. Im sure my love is the same. Admittedly, I may have stopped reading anatomy and useful books a while ago. When she left to make us drinks I switched the dust jackets around so I could read my latest romance novel. I've made great progress in it and despite my wife thinking they are awful most of the time, I have found this to be my favorite. It might be because the main protagonist is like my Wadsworth at times. I will never get used to not being able to call her Wadsworth now that we're married. It is still odd to me that we are married, that I get to call her my wife. My beautiful, darling wife.

Perhaps she is right that they are rotting my brain and softening my heart.

Not that I mind. I take another glance and see how tired she truly is. We have been working all week to find this killer, and whilst we have nearly solved it there is just something we are missing. It is making all of us unbearable. So much so that we have been uninvited to dinner several times by my sister and Audrey's father until we finish the case. Although it is more fun dining in our office, still researching until the candles run out. After this case I believe I might take Wadsworth on holiday, to let us both rest. Perhaps we'll take uncle Jonathan with us, or at least make him go on his own holiday.

“Love it's getting late we should go to bed.'' I tell her. I put my book down and stretch, waiting for her to stop reading as well. She doesn't. I sit back and wait to see if she'll notice me.

After a short while she sighs and looks up at me. She blinks at me in surprise to find me already watching her. I smirk and lean forward again, letting her set her book down and stretch. She scrunches her face in a yawn and I can't help but want to kiss her.

“Did you find anything useful?” she asks through another yawn. Even if I had found anything I would've waited till morning to tell her. She is too stubborn to admit she's exhausted. From running around the city and hours of reading and researching she is about ready to pass out.

“Yes, you look absolutely adorable when you're tired.” I say despite knowing that she is referring to the case. She rolls her eyes but I glimpse a smile. “And, that you look beautiful sitting in the candle light” I state before she can scold me.

“About the case? Anything we can use, or anything about how they were killed?”

“Yes actually,” I lied, a plan forming in my head. Her eyes light up and she looks at me expectedly. Guilt pools through me as I pick up my romance novel and hide my smile. I repeat to myself that she won't hate me for this stunt and I'm in fact being helpful. I flick through the book to find a, well, a passage that would make Audreys aunt pass out; and my sister would fall to the floor laughing if she was there to witness it.

“Anything you are willing to share with me Thomas?” she says, settling her head in her arms against the table. Her hair falls into her face but she doesnt move it, I do it for her before I read to her.

“I'm willing to share everything with you, you are an incredibly lucky since you are the only person with such luxuries. I would want someone to share something as mag-”

“Thomas. Please just get on with it so we can go to bed.”

“Very well ah here it is,” I clear my throat, “heart pounding, skin aflame; each touch and caress was a hundred different feeling vying for my atention at once. Without effort, our bodies new precisely what to do, how to react-”

“Thomas!” she flug her head to me, eyes wide as she watched me try and hold in my laugh. She snatch the book from me, removing the dust jacket and then threw it back at me. It makes me laugh harder.

“What?! I thought you would enjoy it. Given that all you have been reading lately is morbid, i thought reading you a section from a romance novel would be most beneficial. Be sure to think of me though when you read on.” I wink at her as she throws her hands up in dismay. I catch a small smirk that she fails to hide. Audrey rose stands from her chair, deciding to abandon me in our office.

“So instead of finding something useful to help catch our killer you've been reading filth?" she asks. I stand too, moving past the table to wrap my arms around her waist. She leans into my embrace and I plant a kiss atop her head.

“Not filth. But yes. I tried to read those books but they were not helping us and you know they aren't . Sometimes we have to be patient with these. I know love, how hard it is. I want to catch them too. And we will. Lets get some rest, then we will work with uncle tomorrow to finish this case.” I tell her. None of us are good at being patient. I tend to need to relase my enegry by tapping on anything, a trait Audrey hates but understands. Uncle Johnathan is just like my wife, needing to work constantly till the case is over. Needed to understand everything. I feel Audrey Rose turn into me and burry her head into my chest. I hold her close for a minute until she leans back to plant a kiss on my lips. I deepen the kiss and run my hand up and down her back, soothing her as much as I can.

“Read to me?” I hear her whisper as we let go of each other. Often at night we read before sleeping. Sometimes to each other, depending on who is more exhausted.

“Did that pique your interest my love. Whatever would dear old aunt say to such unwomanly thoughts?” I tease and move to go get the book.

“Hush you fiend. I dont care what you read I just what to hear you voice.”

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @the-hoofflepooff @ink-insomnia @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc

#sjtr #ctd #efh #hpd #cressworth #thomas cresswell #audrey rose wadsworth

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

Text

[image description: a wideshot of the san francisco skyline, tinted orange by a sunset. Above the skyline, in a white serif font reads "REVELATIONS, REVELATIONS." in all caps. below, in lower caps reads "update #2" /end id]

Revelations, Revelations | Update #2

Hey besties! I've got a funky little RR update

I've had a little bit of a love hate relationship with this book in the last two months but I am loving it right now! I think my struggles came from how I didn't really accept that this book is Hard to write. like it's complicated! and it's set in another country in another era like idk what to tell you! And accepting that was such a weight off my shoulders because I'm not putting the blame on myself. I also was really stuck in part one's problems and I had to be like <3 bestie <3 abandon it til post draft editing. So right now it's like:

Part one: I see it as a little stray cat in an alleyway that I kneel down in front of like pspspsp :) and then it hisses and bites me because it is actually a feral raccoon. Definitely not where I want it to be but like I can fix him

Part two: super fun!! A lot of deeper (and messier) elements are introduced here and I feel like the story's ~vibes~ have clicked. It's a lot of fun and it's getting complex. Whilst there's conflict going on in part one there's definitely this false sense of stability and then part two hits all of them like a baseball bat

My drafting has been much more chill and non linear too, just writing the scenes I want to and then connecting them together. I've been focused less on rich prose/descriptions and more on prose that explores character and it's been very refreshing! I love my flowery prose but I think it's easy to get caught up in. I'm also no longer going to do chapter by chapter updates, both for plot privacy but also because this story is very delicate both in content and the drafting process and I don't just want to expose the bare bones of that, you know? So I'm just gonna do some sectioned rambles and talk about a couple chapters under the cut!

also no longer doing multiple taglists because i can't keep up so! general taglist, ask to be added or removed! ; @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @svpphicwrites

Only major change to report is I switched to alternate POVs instead of multiple chapters at a time in one POV because I'm insane <3 I had a lot of fun braiding POVs in Life Cycle of Massive Stars and wanted to try it here and it works much better! Though at this point I am simply ignoring the existence of part 1 because it really was the guinea pig part LMAO i experimented so much with structure and form and now it's a mess but it's <3 a future problem <3 i'd rather have one messy part than a whole first draft that's behind on my growing ~vision~ of the story.

[image description: a slightly purple tinted photo of two arms extending from the top and bottom of the photo, cropped to only show their hands. Their index fingers touch. in the middle, in a white serif font reads "dorothy" /end id]

Not a chapter, I had a lot of trouble with Dorothy in part 1 but I still love her so instead y'all are getting a mini character ramble! I felt really bad about her for the longest time because I've only been writing her since last summer whereas I've known Felix since like 2018 so there's naturally an imbalance, but I Do Not like that!! And she's really taken her time revealing herself, but I am ~fascinated by her.

I feel she's best summarised by this disillusionment for her life but mostly herself, because she's framed her whole identity by illusory perceptions of other people: a mother she doesn't remember, a girlfriend she breaks up with every six months but still shares a bed with, a twin brother she hasn't seen in person for four years and still sees as a teenager drenched in religious manipulation. It's a lot! She assumes that she feels dissatisfied with her life because she's without her twin, but then Felix returns to her life and shockingly this does not fix all of her problems??? She also doesn't know how to be alone, which definitely will not get better after Felix returns oop

The day her brother decides to leave, Dorothy is home alone.

Her San Francisco apartment is hollow like a hungry stomach. Three days ago, she drove Jolie to the airport then came home to cover the bathroom mirror with towels. On the first day she took an extra shift at the book store, drove through Sea Cliff at sunset, bumped into Mona on the stairwell and joined her and Margot for wine and slipped out when they began arguing over rent and office interns, started then discarded a portrait of a fictional girl and slept from two to five in the morning. On the second day she worked and spent an extra hour designing a window display on science fiction that she put together on the third day. Cut and painted a rocket ship on cardboard that she’ll have to scold kids for tugging, then get scolded herself by their mothers.

The day I finalise a design for their apartment it's over but I call this trick Trying To Get Around The Fact I Made Characters In Their Earlier Twenties Live In San Francisco (cw: drowning)

The apartment is nicer than her, but it’s been home for three years and they get $100 off rent each month because Jolie tends the garden and looks just like the landlady's daughter that drowned in the Pacific.

I don't think I've talked about Jolie much here which is funny because she is probably the most well-received amongst my friends! They love her so much and it's because she's a hot but slightly toxic lesbian smh, I'm like no seriously she does some fucked up things and they're like you promise?? Some funky facts:

Her real name is Jolene and she hates it except when the Dolly Parton song came on, that gives her a god complex

We are going to ignore how I accidentally named two characters after words for beautiful and pretty in French we are going to pretend it was intentional because when this gets published a uni student could get some good analysis out of that in their Intro to Literature class

She joined the cult with her mother at 13 and left as soon as she turned 18 LMAO. She was Dorothy's only connection to the "outside world" and the only reason she was able to leave

Her dream job is gardener/florist! We get it I watched Bly Manor last November. She's also a bartender

would probably have this on her car /j

[image description: a close up of a car sticker of a frog above "MILF" in green caps. below "MILF" reads "Man I Love Frogs" /end id]

Dorothy and Jolie have always been on and off and building tension but Dorothy realises this can't keep going when Jolie gets into a barfight at work and Dorothy feels Insane because she's the only one concerned?? (cw: blood, mild violence)

“You’re lucky it’s not broken.” She angles Jolie’s face, hand under her chin. Even with red blotted around her nostrils and lips, mulberry lipstick smudged, she still smiles like her bruises are a trophy. It’s a surprise she doesn’t dwell on it: it’s just some blood, doll, nothing to worry about. She didn’t even strike that good. Her technique was all off. If she shows her face back here I’ll just teach her how to punch properly. The worst part is over and I’m a big girl. Do I look upset? Am I crying? When they drive home, she’ll ask to stop and see if she can get free cigarettes or beer by holding her nose and making herself cry. She’ll probably ask Dorothy to hit her so it starts bleeding again. But she’s quiet, leans against the basin and lets her dab damp towels on her face. It doesn’t take long to clean up. It was just some blood.

“Nursing,” Jolie says.

“What?” “You keep saying you want to go to school but don’t know what for – nursing. You’re too good at taking care of people.”

That ending is like Top Three dialogue lines that made me really Concerned for how this character arc is gonna go :) but don't worry about it y'all. I do think Jolie genuinely loves Dorothy but that does not mean! the relationship is healthy!

Basically I love her a lot now that I know her better and I am excited to see where she goes! I think the biggest part of her arc is motherhood/daughterhood and TBH as a recently realised trans dude it took me a Minute to feel entitled to write her story? But being a cis woman shaped my life for two decades and getting to navigate that and being a daughter from a perspective that's totally distanced from myself is very helpful. It's about the inherent admiration and pain that comes from being a mother's daughter! (cw: blood, diet culture/disordered eating)

She lies next to the table and presses her forehead to the glass corner and imagines what would shatter first: the glass or her skin. And she imagines being a girl again, with French braids and too much baby fat in her cheeks and being picked up by a mother before the blood stains her hands and then her dress. She’d tell the mother she just wanted to read her magazines, the dog-eared articles about divorce and top tips for menopause and the benefits of eating half a grapefruit before your calorie-counted meals. And the mother would just brush the bangs out her face, press a pack of thawed peas on the wound and let her choose between the band aid with hearts or the band aid with flowers. And maybe the mother would know she did it for attention because they both know a daughters cry slices oxygen like glass to skin, but she’d still detangle her curls in the evening and kiss her forehead goodnight and serve her breakfast in the morning with half a grapefruit – the other half on her own plate, untouched and left to rot.

[image description: an orange firework exploding against a black sky. across the photo, in a white serif font reads "the last 10 hours of 1986" /end id]

This is technically two chapters, one in each POV and they close part one! Title is v explanatory and they're meant to be framed like a countdown - my plan was for the scenes to get shorter as it gets closer to midnight and that didn't really work but? The twins def get messier as the countdown goes down and THAT is what we like to see. This is also the only end of a part where the twins are separated but don't worry about it hehe :)

Dorothy

This chapter is like the First Time Dorothy does something for herself and. Good for her!

She’ll publish poetry under a pen name and horror short stories under another. She’ll paint indigo mountains and magenta oceans and not care when the colours stain her clothes. She’ll teach Felix how to blend acrylics and he’ll teach her how to remember piano notes and they won’t argue about who abandoned who. When Mona and Margot break up, she’ll go down to comfort Mona or Margot and then kiss Margot or Mona. She’ll move out and tell neither of them. She’ll find a landlady with a dead daughter and get a discount on an ocean view apartment with wall-length windows. Isaias will move in next door and they’ll have weekly dinner parties with wine that costs more than $10. She’ll go vegan. She’ll be so in tune with herself she won’t need to read magazine horoscopes or pay $50 for a psychic reading that assumes she knows her grandparents. She’ll know when she’s happy sad angry and why. She’ll take portrait commissions so she can afford a therapist. She’ll love her life and ignore that there’s no space for Jolie because she wants there to be. She’ll need nobody except herself. She’ll try and make things with Jolie work. She’ll kiss a random girl at midnight to see if it’s any different. She’ll go home after the countdown.

I had the revelation (aha) of Isaias and Dorothy as besties and I am OBSESSED! I love Isaias but struggled with his role so I'm really happy about this. Like he practices calligraphy and writes poetry titled after his favourite plants is he not the ideal character!! Hoping this will make it easier to learn about him so we can get that fun content

Felix

Felix's is fun because he makes the best decision of his arc but also the stupidest fucking decision of his arc. He truly has the range NOBODY is doing it like him. Here's a part that mirrors the excerpt above because even when they're apart Felix and Dorothy are like hmm we Will Be Intrinsically Connected (cw: drug, vomit and sex mention sorry he's going through it!!)

Two hours before midnight and Felix is alone in the bathroom. The party he abandoned synths through the ceiling. He plays Love My Way on his Walkman. Highest volume. Eyes closed. Imagines 1987 and decides he’s going to be honest about everything and nothing. He’s going to tell strangers at bars that he studies Literature at Stanford. He’s going to date a girl and pretend he has parents to introduce her to, that he grew up on a farm in Ohio and was secretly raised atheist, lie about what lies his parents told him. He’s going to grow out his hair and and blend cyan on his eyelids and send polaroids to his father with no return address; burn his fingertips on a candle flame like Michael will burn the photos of his son. He’s going to adore himself. He’s going to quit smoking and start jogging. He’s going to fuck Pacific Heights husbands whilst their wives sleep in the master bedroom and maybe they’ll angrily call him when they’re served divorce papers and hang up when he laughs. He’s going to get promoted to Assistant Manager and not care that his job is dead-end. He’s not going to kiss anyone at midnight because he doesn’t want to. He’s going to flush the cocaine because he doesn’t want it. He’s going to stare at his reflection until it moves for him. He’s going to vomit in a minute. He’s going to pierce his right ear with a sewing needle.

Felix at the end of part one: I give no more fucks!!! I am going to do whatever I want!!! Life is too short!!!

Felix at the end of part two:

[image description: screenshot of a tweet by @/idksomedumbshit. the tweet reads, "i can't mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one boys" /end id]

I do think it's iconic that this time last year Felix was a repressed Christian boy and now his dream is to be a homewrecker THAT is growth. I also got to write Felix and Jolie which was fun because they do Not like each other <3 but they respect each other <3 but only sometimes <3 They have their first little bonding moment where Jolie pierces his ear in their bathroom but then Felix says something to piss her off so Jolie is like hmm okay time to chose Violence. This dialogue is funny because Felix does not really hate himself at this stage Jolie just knows she's gonna fuck him up by saying that !! My life would be so much easier if these twins had a normal relationship with the concept of being a twin but also this story would be very boring

The needle pierces his skin and he doesn’t feel it. Only the tequila swirling behind his eyes. The sting of the light-bulb. Jolie speaks again, “but she looks just like you, doesn’t she? Not the same of course, but enough to see each other in each other. That’s the worst part, right? To see the person you hate on the face of someone you love?”

[image id: a photo of the ocean with cliffs in the background, tinted orange by sunset. in the middle, in a white serif font reads "1/10/1987" /end id]

This chapter is so CUTE and also my first successful attempt at a different form that I can consistently keep in the narrative <3 I really like the idea of a fluid novel form that's adaptive to how the character's perception of the world would change which? Idk how much I can maintain that but this definitely follows it. I need to fine tune the execution but the concept is shots and transcript from a camcorder recording and playing with what the camera sees/doesn't see. The title is what the tape would be labelled, and on 1/10/1987 (american dates throw me off omfg) Beau takes Felix to a seaside town for his birthday and yes it's gay <3 but it's also just a lot of stupid dialogue which was very refreshing because I overthink dialogue so much I always think it has to have deeper meaning when sometimes its like....characters can sometimes...have Fun together. They are simply displaying Relationship Dynamics!

BEAU: Okay, give me a second…(the camera zooms on Felix) There we go! Right, okay, so it’s Saturday, January 10th, 1987, what’re doing out here today?

FELIX: What is this, an interview or something? You sound like a TV host on those morning shows.

BEAU: Oh my God no they’re so annoying, don’t compare me to those.

FELIX: No but I can imagine it perfectly. You’d just be all (holding a pretend microphone) Gooood Morrrning from sunny San Francisco! My name is Beau Teixeira and—

Beau: (laughing) Shut the fuck up!

I love this chapter a lot because you can definitely tell that their dynamic has Shifted but also! They are still just friends being friends and I really want them to just kiss already but also I love the natural progression of friends to lovers....falling in love and not realising it and then suddenly it all makes sense...

BEAU: You wanna try filming? It’s easier if you hold it on your shoulder. Like this. Put your hands where mine are.

[How their fingers whisper against each other. How Beau’s cologne smells of lime and tangerine. ]

Beau steps back into view, runs a hand through his curls. Leather jacket flutters in salted wind. Behind him the sunset flickers over waves like a candle flame. He smiles at the camera.

BEAU: I think you’re a natural! You’re definitely gonna be first choice for cameraman on my shitty morning show.

[How Felix smiles at him.]

(cw: next paragraph talks about the AIDS crisis)

Whilst this is a Fun And Cute Chapter there is more depth to it since the last time we see Beau and Felix before it is the first time they open up about the AIDS Crisis and their fears surrounding it. I have a lot of complicated thoughts about writing this part of history that I could write about all day but it boils down to the fact that "so many queer stories are centred around queer trauma and tragedy and queer people deserve to read stories centred around love and happiness" and "with a queer novel set in 1980s SF it'd be just as bad to completely ignore what happened" are two things that can coexist. I definitely think stories centred around the crisis are necessary (recently read The Prettiest Star by Carter Sickels and highly recommend! Also has a similar camcorder function and an emphasis on preserving. Also made me cry) but shouldn't be the default, especially in a story that if published would have a queer readership, so whilst it's something I want to explore I want to do it in a way that ultimately celebrates queer happiness, love and life. Definitely way more that could be said about this and the function of queer trauma in queer narratives but! Both Beau and Felix feel a need to not only capture as much as possible, but to capture it specifically with the intent to look back in the future, as well as a general We Are Going To Try And Find Happiness Wherever We Can. Also feel like a lot of Beau's character clicked whilst writing it which was very fun!

[How Beau wouldn’t say where they were going but cracked before they left San Francisco because he had too many stories to tell: five year old burning his tongue on café tea, six year old falling into waves and being unbothered, seven year old plucking chrysanthemum petals from stranger’s gardens. How Beau has an orange car freshener and missing headrest on the passengers seat. How Beau drove a longer route because it was closer to the coastline. How Beau played Pet Shop Boys’ Please and knew the words to every song. How Felix realized that he did too.]

[image description: a man and a woman sit next to each other on a bench. the photo is taken from behind them. in the background, you can vaguely see water, hills and the golden gate bridge. across the image, in a white serif font reads "everything the same about dorothy and felix" /end id]

Little title explanation: part 1 has two chapters, "Everything Different about Felix" and "Everything Different about Dorothy" which introduce their relationship + impression of each other after not seeing each other in person for four years (and also how they have images of each other in their heads that are false but they're attached to and it's really not helping the whole complicated twin relationship thing but don't worry about it) and I'd like to expand on that in part two so! An attempt was made. This takes place the day after the above chapter on the twins' actual birthday, the first one they're celebrating together since they were 18 and the first one in the "outside world" so it's a moment!

I'm not happy with how this chapter came out but I think it's just because it's an important one to me! Partly because it helps cement the idea that in spite of their complex relationship, Felix and Dorothy never stop being twins and they never stop loving each other even on the days they dislike each other. But mainly because: these are two adults who lost their childhood to trauma and they finally have the freedom to live their life and! Sometimes that means living for the inner child that never got to be a child. As a certified Adult With Childhood Trauma having a chapter like this was v important because trauma never leaves you but that doesn't mean you can't be happy!! Also it's just. cute. They run around San Francisco, bake a really shitty birthday cake, talk about whether or not San Francisco is real, I want what they have. There is underlying conflict because hoo boy there is Shit simmering rn! But it was nice to have this and the previous chapter as just like. Two little golden moments you know. Calm before the storm if you will

Midnight. Dorothy lies on a mattress on the floor in an apartment in San Francisco. Her brother’s head in her lap. “You know what’s crazy to me? Nobody ever asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. That just wasn’t something we were allowed to think about. I know it’s depressing, I just think about that a lot.”

Felix keeps his eyes on the ceiling. The clock ticks. “Well, what do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“Astronaut, of course.”

“I was gonna say astronaut.”

“You definitely weren't,” she says. “Besides, I already claimed it.”

He looks at her. “I was thinking it. Before you said it, I claimed it in my mind.”

“That’s not how it works. I can’t read your mind.”

Felix sits up. “Wait, you can’t? Gee Dotty, some twin you are.” He grins. So does she.

Usually I am like. I don't think they would care too much about the twin thing. But I also think they would definitely joke about it, like if someone asked a stupid question Felix would be like "well of course we can read each others minds, dont you know how twins work?? like right now my twin sister who is my twin is thinking about giving me, her twin brother, $200" But lets end this on an excerpt where Dorothy doesn't give him $200 but she does think Oh How Did I Spend Four Years Without My Brother

(cw: death mention + missing persons mention, plane crash + boating accident mention)

Dorothy is used to his presence, has been for a year: coffee stains on the table, cupboards left open in the kitchen, clustered ashtray in the living room, hair gel and Jazz aftershave behind the bathroom mirror, Queen or Bowie or Alphaville sifting from his room. His voice. How he always knocks on her door to say goodnight. How he weaved himself into the ecosystem like air but tonight she watches her brother do nothing but breathe and she remembers waking up every January 11th in 1983, 84, 85, 86, and chucking a towel over the bathroom mirror. How she told strangers at bars that she’s an only child; or that she had a younger brother, but he died in a plane crash or a boating accident or went on a hiking trip and never came back, was likely immortalised as a John Doe in Oregon or Nevada records. How she went four years without coffee stains and open cupboards and goodnight knocks and Queen or Bowie or Alphaville renditions when he forgets that she exists in this space too. How hollow those four years were.

And that's all I have to share! I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I much prefer this format of talking about the story! If you read this far I love u <3

#revelations revelations #atlastracking #writing update #i wrote most of this update at 5am so ignore any typos god bless

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