klaus snippet

He cried.

He couldn’t find it in him to do anything else — the voices, the ghosts, they were always there. They tormented him every day of his life, they tore him apart bit by bit until there was nothing left of him but a silhouette of a broken child.

And he silenced them all. Dave. He silenced them with his lopsided smiles and the way he held hands and the way his eyes lit up when he was excited. He silenced them with his jokes that were so horrible they were funny, with this light that just seemed to chase away all of Klaus’ shadows. He chased away the darkness. Every little thing he did finally gave Klaus the allusion of happiness he’d always craved.

Until it faded, and he was left with a body, the memories and all the voices he’d tried so hard to keep at bay.

And so he laid upon his lover one last time, holding him as if he were trying to squeeze the smallest bit of life out of him.

He cried, but all anybody heard was the gunshots.

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag @fiercely-raging-writer

Crash(fromOur Forgotten Devils)

I take another worried glance over my shoulder. “Can’t you go any faster?” I ask.

“Not unless you want me to crash!” Alex says sharply.

The car pulls out and speeds up until it’s driving alongside us. I try to get a look at the driver, but the windows are tinted so dark I can’t see a thing. Whoever’s driving, they turn inwards, pushing hard into the side of us.

Burn(ed)(from Our Forgotten Devils)

“You look so much like your father.”

Abruptly, Alex drops her hands as if they’ve burned him. His flinch is slight but clearly visible nonetheless.

Scent(from Our Forgotten Devils)

Beneath the pervading scents of sandalwood and frankincense lies something else, something that I can’t quite place, but it makes me wrinkle my nose in disgust all the same. I feel like I should recognise it, but it’s too faint for me to determine what it is.

FuriousFury(from a micro-wip titled Clytemnestra’s Confession)

I needed to be over there, needed to see her, hold her, needed to snatch the dagger from Agamemnon’s hands and plunge it into his chest. But Achilles held fast, stubbornly refusing to let me go. I struggled and fought in vain until all my fury drained away and I slumped forwards, sobbing. When he finally let me go, I collapsed.

Open tag!

“Fett’s message is already several hours old,” Ahsoka said, folding her arms and rubbing her chin. “But you have the Festival of Lights tomorrow evening. That will be televised. The images will hit the holonet and if you’re not there, Gideon will know. He has to be monitoring you; he’s no fool, despite everything. He’ll hear long before you get there. It would be enough for him to be suspicious and set up a trap. Ten to one, the reason you left will leak out, too. Fett’s assault will be doomed before it’s begun.”

Leia swore. Luke threw himself into a chair. 

“So what should we do?” he demanded. 

“I don’t know yet,” Ahsoka murmured, an unhappy crease between her brow markings. “Perhaps the best thing to do would simply be to let Fett finish the job. Or I could go -”

“I made the offer of help,” Leia said, chewing on her lower lip in frustration. “I have to stand by it. But if I have to wait a full day and night cycle -”

“You’re all forgetting something,” Kyrie interrupted. 

“Like what, genius?” Luke said irritably, a hand over his eyes. Luke always despaired too quickly.

Kyrie smiled the smile of a sabacc player with a winning hand. “You’re on Naboo,” he said. “You just had dinner with a queen’s handmaidens. Bodyguards, councillors, yes - but most importantly, body doubles.”

Leia woke up because Luke had reached Theed and was looking for her. It felt like being poked repeatedly in the ribs, except that she was alone in bed and feeling like she would have been more well-rested if she’d been left to her own devices.

I was asleep, she snapped.

Oh, sorry, Luke said. Well, I’ll be there in an hour, anyway.

An hour in which I could have been asleep, Leia said, and pulled the pillow over her head as if that would stop Luke contacting her. She woke up again half an hour later, and reluctantly got up and ran herself through the fresher - Sola Naberrie had special-ordered toiletries by Alderaanian brands, which was so kind of her and set Leia’s teeth on edge - and dressed in the outfit Kyrie had picked out for her. He understood how the Naboo did clothing and symbolism, and Leia wasn’t interested in learning, not when she had a whole mental library of traditional outfits and colour meanings for Alderaan that nobody else would ever remember or require. It was a little like Mandalorian armour, a lot of which now resided in study collections that had acquired it by ethically dubious means; Leia had looked up the colours and symbols Fett wore and discovered a roiling debate on cultural patrimony and appropriation. Rumour of a bounty hunter wearing plain beskar, which had to be Din Djarin, had hit some of the more specialist social media forums, but since most of the posters didn’t believe he existed and many of the rest posted in Mando’a she couldn’t be sure what they were saying.

Hero’s shift was almost over.

Thank god for that, she thought, if I have to walk one more time around this damn building I swear I’m going to-

Oh.

There was blood in the alley. Blood. Someone was bleeding, a civilian no doubt. Hero’s eyes snapped up and she caught the tell-tale glint of metal. Try as they might, it was impossible to completely rid the city of criminals. Could this have happened for something as trivial as money?The thought almost made her blood boil. But first-

Oh god, there was so much blood.

It wasn’t even a conscious thing - her legs acted faster than her brain, and suddenly, she was next to the man’s side in no time.

Sweat plastered hair to their forehead, eyebrows scrunched together in obvious pain. The man wasn’t even conscious. Hero was relieved when she saw the rise and fall of their chest, having feared for the worst. Not that the knife in their side was any good.

Hero pulled out her communicator, calling for an ambulance. Even in the haze of panic and rambling, she couldn’t help but feel a pull of familiarity, somehow.

“Hello, hello sir? Can your hear me?” Hero lightly tapped their cheek, when she’d been reassured help was on the way. Subconsciously, her eyes flitted over each of the man’s features. “I’ve called the ambulance. They’re coming as fast as they can. You’re going to get help as soon as possi-”

She stopped. Rubbed her eyes. Did it again.

Oh.

She recognized those ocean blue eyes, though they were always filled with cruel delight. Recognized those thin lips, though they were always fitted into a snarl. Recognized the straight black hair, now greased with sweat and pain.

Villain.

Villain was sitting in an alley, clothes torn and bloody. Villain was there, mask off, and vulnerable. Villain was bleeding out right in front of her.

Hero snapped herself out of her shocked stupor. Now was not the time. It didn’t matter if they were the one who scarred her and hurt her, who tormented a city full of innocents. At the end of the day, they were still a citizen of the city - her city - and now they needed her help. She can entertain thoughts of arrest later. When they’re alive enough to even bearrested.

She tore his shirt where the knife stuck out, making sure not to jostle the wound any more than needed. Nevertheless, Villain let out another moan, and she couldn’t help but apologise. Bundling her hands in cloth so as to not risk infection, she pressed down on the wound. She’d never been good at being the medic and this time was no exception. More blood seemed to spill out at her attempts of getting it under control.

Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless.

“Don’t die- urgh, don’t die on me yet, Villain. Who… who am I supposed to stop if you’re gone? Huh?”

Stop being so damn hopeless.

Her eyes suddenly stung, and she had to blink back tears. Mentally, she chided herself for the onset of emotion. This wasn’t the time, she reminded herself.

Villain’s eyes fluttered open, and the sigh of relief that escaped couldn’t be helped.

“Hey, hey Villain? I’m here… I’m here for you, and help is on the way. It shouldn’t be long now, so just stay awake for me. Okay? Villain?”

Villain’s eyes widened, just for a moment, before returning to its usual sarcastic gaze. “Oh, the stories they’ll tell if I fall asleep here, in your arms,” they smirked, then groaned at the movement.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that. “Of course, we can’t risk tarring your oh-so-perfect reputation, now can we?” Still, she clasped their hand, and flushed at the affirmation she felt when they gripped back. Her eyes felt wet again and she just needed one last thing from them.

“Just, just promise me that. Promise me you won’t leave me, not now. All great villains have to go out with a bang, don’t they?”

“Who said…who said I was dying today,” Villain croaked out, before their hand finally let go.

F&D snippet

So sorry this is taking forever, I’ve been faffing around for weeks on this chapter, I’ve finally got about 1.5k of usable stuff and I’ll be lucky if I make it to this weekend for posting T_Tº

Have a little snippet of Vi reminiscing on her first visit to Singed’s malpractice cave :

Singed had given her a short tour as he recounted the brief history of his research on shimmer, how he’d first discovered the properties of the mushrooms by accident. On their own they’re a mild euphoric, but Singed had experimented and finally decanted something promising by mixing in his secret ingredient.

Vi had smiled at that. ‘What is it? Love?’

Syd had snorted behind her, while Singed blinked, confused. 'No,’ he’d said, deadpan. 'Waverider kidney.’

Vi wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but that was par for the course.

I didn’t think you would ever be someone I would have to recover from.

how silly to think it could be different by (ds)

(NOT A PR0MPT)

******

“My allergies are horrible right now.” The hero sniffled for show, and when Villain turned around, he was surprised to see Hero’s face glistening with slow-moving tears.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying. My eyes are burning…because I have allergies.” Simple explanation, and the solution was just as simple. “I just took my allergy medicine- just waiting for it to kick in.”

“You’re still sniffling.”

“Because it hasn’t kicked in yet. It will,” she reassured, as if he were the one that even needed the reassuring.

Villain nodded and turned away, walking to a nearby shelf. For a moment, Hero didn’t think anything of it. There were snacks on those shelves, as well as some videogames. Nothing unordinary. “A warhead would clear your sinuses.”

“No.”

A mischievous look was returned as a sour candy was plucked from a basket on the top shelf. “It would work.”

“It would kill me!”

Hero, in her weakened and dying state, had no defense as Villain approached, tearing the candy open and holding the green, apple-flavored drop of death between two pinched fingers.

“You’re going to kill me,” she screeched, and tried to sniffle, hoping her nose would have already cleared, hoping she could save herself from the sour punch her lover wanted to deliver. “Stop, no! I don’t want it, I don’t-”

But Villain was grabbing her chin with his free hand, squishing her lips until they fell open.

A moment of silence ensued and Villain smiled widely at his success. Hero was puckering, miserable, but her sniffle was gone. “It worked,” he said finally, and she could do nothing in revenge.

The war was lost, settled by a candy smaller than Hero’s thumb.

******

@imherebecauseofdee I will get my revenge.

Pairing:modern!Thomas Shelby x modern!OC

Warning:Strong Language, Graphic Depictions Of Violence & Smut

Words: 1.3k

[A/N]:oh ma goshhhh my first TOM request. sorry if it sucks tho, but I hope it will help you feel at least a bit better <3

TOM: Part 1||Part 2||Part 3||Part 4||Part 5||Part 6||Part 7 ||Part 8

MASTERLIST

Her normally perfectly decorated and nice neat room was covered with half-used tissues, which covered random spots around the floor, mostly next to her bed. The cupboard next to her bed, which was usually half-empty was not filled with cough medicine, unused tissues and a cup of hot earl grey tea. Her bed was now made out of more pillows and blankets than usually, all due to her wrecking in the form of a common cold. Her body felt like shit, her porcelain skin was now pinkish and feverish. Her nose every now and then stuffed or runny, missing those days when she could easily breathe through it. Her body felt weak, unable to move any longer than a few minutes, which were just enough to run into the bathroom from time to time to either barf or pee, sometimes both. She felt disgusting, she did not wish to be seen by anyone, let alone Thomas. To her bad luck, she had planned to go on a date with him exactly on the day where she felt invalid and unwell. She texted him hours ago saying she was feeling a bit under the weather and could not attend their date. Laid up on her bed was everything she could do for at least a few days. However, it was not so bad that she had to be hospitalised. All she needed was a few days of solid rest.

But Thomas being Thomas would not simply accept her rejection. At that point, he knew her better than that. He knew she would not just refuse a date with him, unless she a really good reason behind it. After a few calls, including one to her and his own office, he not only found out that she was ill and did not come to work for a few days already, but also cancelled all his meetings for the rest of the day so he could attend to his sick girlfriend.

On his way to her apartment, he did a few stops to her favourite restaurant, to the pharmacy and the supermarket, to get her everything she could possibly need in such times. He did not have much experience when it comes to taking care of someone unless it were his brothers. But Isabelle was special, she was one of his rare loves and he wanted to take care of her as much as possible. And since he did not know what she could possibly need, he just bought everything and then drove straight to her home.

As he already knew the password to enter her flat, he did so by observing her as they visited it a few times for some scandalous times, he simply stepped inside together with all the things she needed. All he heard was the TV playing in her bedroom. To which he hoped she was focused on, so he could place all the things like juices and fruit in the fridge, before placing a hot chicken soup from the take-out box onto a deep plate. Next to it a few of her favourite macarons from her favourite restaurant and a chocolate mousse. He was not sure if she would even eat anything, but she had to at least finish the soup.

Making his way to her bedroom he heard her blowing her nose into a tissue and cursing right afterwards. He chuckled knowing she was still well enough to complain about herself being sick. Stepping into her room with a tray of food he looked at his girlfriend, laying half-dead under what seems to be fifteen blankets: “you feeling warm enough, love?”

Isabelle looked up at him with a surprised look on her face before opening her mouth in disbelief: “oh no, not you,” she quickly covered her face with one of the blankets.

“Not the welcoming I expected, but alright.” his eyebrows rose in disbelief, but he still brought the food onto her cupboard, before settling down next to her dead-sick body.

“You don’t wanna see me, love?”

“No, go away.” she coughed up a few times right after sending him away.

“And why is that?”

“I look disgusting. I don’t wanna be seen like this.”

Thomas looked at her blankets with sympathy, a tiny smile climbing on his lips. His fingers gently tugged onto the edge of her blanket, pulling it downwards until he finally saw her makeup-less face. Her hair was uncombed and all over the place, her nose pinkish from all the blowing, while the bags under her eyes showed a darkish colour, a sign of the lack of sleep she must have gotten in the last few days.

“Why didn’t you call me when you got sick? I had to hear it from your secretary that you’ve been absent for half the week.” he threw her a bit of an irritated look, but as soon as he heard her sniff her nose once more he sighed, “I’m your boyfriend, am I not supposed to take care of you?”

“I am a programming expert, speak four languages and can even survive your family dinners and yet I am crushed by the fucking common cold. I don’t wanna be seen in this state by anyone.” she groaned and threw a pillow onto her face.

Thomas rolled his eyes before gently removing the pillow, moving some strands of hair away from her face: “I don’t care how bad you look, I just want you to get better. Therefore, I got you some chicken noodle soup and your favourite desserts. How about that?”

“You did that for me?” she slowly moved her tottering body into a sitting position and looked at the food on her cupboard.

“The juice and fruits are in your fridge and I’ve got you some pain reliefs and cough drops.”

Isabelle looked at him for a moment, trying to grip onto the feeling she just felt. Besides the illness she was going through, something else was sneaking its way into her heart. Immediately she collected all the strength she had left and hugged him, hiding her hot face into his neck, “I’m sorry for hugging you, you’ll probably get sick now too.” she whispered in his neck.

“It’s ok, love. I don’t mind,” he replied, gently stroking her hair with one hand while holding her close with the other, “but you should eat something.”

She whined against him, not wanting to let go. All she wanted was to be held by him and make the sickness go away. At the one hand, she did not wish to be been by anyone, let alone Thomas, but on the other hand, she did want to be taken care of, and that’s exactly what Thomas did. She was not used to that thought. None of her so-called boyfriends ever took care of her, Thomas was the first who would do something like that for her and so it took her a bit to get used to it.

“I will. Later. But can you just hold me for a bit, I really feel off right now.” she was using her delicate voice to get him to give in.

“Anything for you, love.” he slowly let go of her, letting her move back to under her fortress of blankets, while he undid his shoes and jacket, before slowly climbing under her blankets and wrapping his strong arms around her, her face resting on his chest. As he was running the tips of his fingers over her scalp, she was finally able to rest enough to fall asleep on him. He could most likely get infected as well, and get himself sick, but he did not give a fuck at that moment. All he wanted was to make her feel better and if that meant getting ill as well, he would take the risk. The heat that radiated from her blankets and their bodies made him fall asleep soon after her and so the couple was knocked out for hours with some random TV show playing in the background.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ:@linnyangxin@everyonesawhoregrace@just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms​@peaakyhoe​@grav3yard-gh0st​@katherineeekai​@justanothershelby​@livvtheangel@i-love-you-green​@piccasoe​@lucinapomona@stressedandbandobessed7771

Work-In-Progress Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @queen-kass-the-writer!

Okay, here is my current WIP, which is the 7th chapter of Beauty and the Beast. So here’s a snippet for y’all. I still have sooo much to finish in this chapter, and then this story, but I have been able to work on it a bit here and there, so that’s a step in the right direction at least! Here’s to hoping I can get this chapter done and posted soon!

(Please ignore any mistakes in this, I haven’t even attempted to edit or proof it yet!)

* * *

“Are you endeavouring to break every damn item in my house or?” He growls, and for once you can hear that he is clearly frustrated. So, it looks like he can, in fact, show a few basic emotions after all, though you kinda wish he hadn’t shown any at all. You’d like to go back to aloof and disinterested beast-man right about now, as odd as that is to want. At least if he was aloof, you’d know he wasn’t entirely enraged. Because frustrated is only a step below angry, which is then only a step below pissed the fuck off. And that’s two, too many steps close to pissed the fuck off for your comfort, ornerves.

“I-I apologize, Sir,” you quickly stutter out, as sincerely as you can while the nerves and embarrassment of not only being caught dancing around like a fool, but also having broken one of his belongings directly in front of him, run wild throughout your body. “You,” you trail off not wanting to continue on with ‘startled me’, as you realized those next words would have most likely sounded like you trying to pin the blame on him. And you very much did not want to do that. At least not to his face.

“I,what?” He questions lowly, deadly, clearly trying to prompt you into inserting your own foot in your damn mouth. And ha! Joke’s on you, assface! Because while you may not be the brightest bulb in the box, you do still have a few functioning brain cells left. At least enough to know finishing that sentence at any length will not end well for you.

“Are home,” you fill in awkwardly instead, and far too loudly at that. But rather than just leaving it there, you stupidly continue on, “Welcome home, Sir. I hope your trip was fruitful.” Ugh. Fruitful? You imbecile.

“It was,” he grunts, “until I returned home to witnessed you using a 3 million dollar vase as a fake microphone.” He pauses, probably to allow you a moment to let what he just said sink in. And once it does, you gasp quietly, because—3 million fucking dollars?! Why the hell would anyone leave a 3 million dollar freaking vase just laying around where idiots—you, you’re the idiot—could easily shatter it by accident!? “A vase you then promptly destroyed,” he adds in gruffly, as if you hadn’t already fucking realized this. And freaking thanks for that one, Tips! Uuuugh.

* * *

Tagging: WHOEVER WANTS TO DO THIS, JUST DOOO IT! And say I tagged you, I’ll pretend like I did and no one will be the wiser! ‍♀️

About to be out of pocket for a bit, and still a ways away from posting more Fugue, but I amworking on it and have made some good progress: 

~

Kaidan lets out a shaky breath and cards anxious fingers through his hair. “Sir, even if I wanted to, I’m not him. I can’t…do what he did.”

“Hell, I can’t do what he did. Even when I was his age and could have kept up.” Anderson’s voice softens. It’s tinny over the comm. “Alenko. You served with him for a long time. Do you think that was by accident?”

Kaidan shakes his head, although the pain the question brings him goes a lot deeper than Anderson will ever know.

A heavy look crosses Anderson’s face. “Shepard was one of the sharpest tactical minds I’ve ever known, but before the ‘Yanghe didn’t understand how to work through other people. It got worse after Torfan. A lot worse. He was pissed off and bitter, convinced the only person he could rely on was himself.”

“I remember,” Kaidan says softly.

On the screen, Anderson’s visage flickers with a brief wave of lag. It makes him look old. “Scared the hell out of me. It was a bad road he was headed down, and I couldn’t help him. So I sent him to Anya and the ‘Yang.I don’t know what happened during his time there. He was never one to talk about things. But I do know the ‘Yangchanged him. What he accomplished with that marine squad he shouldn’t have been able to do with a full N squad. Couldn’t believe my eyes. I looked over the dossiers of each and every one of you, trying to figure out how the hell he did shit like save that colony on Arvuna, or get that intel on Yandoa. You know what I found?”

The ever-present ache in Kaidan’s heart settles deeper. Kaidan knows exactly what Shepard found on the ‘Yang.What they’d all found there.

Each other.

But he shakes his head anyway.  

“Every member of that squad had skills he didn’t. In those four years, the kid I could never get to listen to any damn thing somehow learned to listen to people who saw things differently than he did. I don’t think it’s a gamble to say you had something to do with that.”

Kaidan tries to swallow, but it gets stuck in his throat.

“He was a great soldier,” Anderson goes on. “But not just because of what he could do with a gun or his amp. It was because he surrounded himself with people who had the strengths he didn’t.I guess what I’m saying is, you don’t need to be him. Because he thought that to do the things we asked him to do, he needed the help of someone who wasn’t. And the person he looked to the most was you.”

Apologies for being rather silent the last few days! 50% of the weekend was farming fares for the Endwalker zones (of which two are rank 3 now ) and the other 50% was Sleep (bc god I needed those days off work).

However, an undisclosed percentage was for writing the prologue for my Future Past AU, so let me offer u all a snippet in recompense:

Featuring too many discussions of the theories behind time travel and a very, very tired Emet-Selch

Hero x Villain Prompt

“You know seeing you, [hero], tied up like this is a change of pace I’d love to get used to”

Villain purred, running a finger gently underneath hero’s chin, making them turn their head aggressively away as much as they wanted to get more of it.

“In your fucking dreams, asshole”

Hero barked, turning their head to glare hatefully at villain. Villain only continued to smile, their eyes going up and down on the sight of hero on their knees, panting with a glare that looks more hooded, a need rather than the intended masked hatred.

“I’d watch your tone around me [hero], as lovely as you are - your words and actions do have consequences”

Festival

The thief made a quiet run past the stalls as the festival music grew only louder. Celebration rang around every corner as the Thief drew themselves into the crowd, pocketing away the jewelry. An accomplished smile decorated their lips. They kept their eyes behind them as they moved amongst the crowd, the footsteps of men, women, and others alike dancing and clapping on beat with the lively music. Though it may be unjust to steal during a spring festival, it was a perfect opportunity they couldn’t let go of!

As they approached the front of the crowd, pushing past many people and nearly stepping on children, music thundered in their chests as loud as their heartbeat. They quickly took notice of the Prince in the middle of the Square, dancing with children and adults. The Prince himself was dressed rather well, decorated with a flower crown as well as colorful outfits that stood out amongst the commoners. The thief watched with some awe, as the bright smile never left the man.

The two made eye contact for a split moment, and they could tell that the Prince recognized them. In the small second of distraction, the music slowed down as the dancers changed partners. People joined the dance, hopping in step with the music and twirling in their partner’s arms. The thief, unfortunately, got caught in it. They stumbled, forwards into the arms of a stranger, music filling their senses as the world grew dizzying. The crowd kept cheering and clapping in beat with the music only continued on and on, and so did the Thief, just barely managing through the audience.

Soft hands held them, and the face of the Prince quickly greeted their view. It was only a split moment, they kept in contact with each other. Though, it was enough to know that the Thief was perhaps caught. The Prince leaned in, whispering to the Thief, “I know who you are,” though his amused smile didn’t display any malice. The Thief’s heart lept up to their throat, feeling the royalty so close to him.

“Is that just a bluff?” The Thief had meant to be quiet, to not reply and perhaps slip out into the crowd again. They couldn’t, though. Something about the Prince had them drawn in as if a sailor to siren. Perhaps it was the cheeky smile of the Prince or the glimmer in his eyes when the sun shone in his eyes.

The Prince’s laugh was angelic, to say the least. It filled the Thief’s ears, sounding more lively than the music that blared between all the instruments. “I’d like to think I gathered enough street smarts for it not to.”

This time, it was the Thief’s turn to laugh. They couldn’t help the blush that rose in their neck, with the way the Prince looked at them, so captivated with the Thief spoke. This wasn’t the attention the Thief received, and oh how they reveled in it. “Since when did princes have street smarts?”

The Prince hummed warmly, leaning in ever so close to the Thief. Butterflies erupted in their stomach. “I suppose you’ll have to find out.”

Just as quickly as he was spun into the Prince’s arms, he was quickly let go, to the side of the crowd and the music continued onto its next part and more folks joined the dance. During this, the thief silently slipped away, though they could not wipe away the memory of the Prince winking at them. It wouldn’t be the last time they’d meet either.