i await your return into the story

let’s kick it.

Originally posted by nctinfo

Anon said: Hii can i request a yuta scenario where he is just cocky af and a fuckboy but ends up being really sweet and you fall for him pls (:🌸

Yes, perfect. 

Pairing: Yuta/Reader

Word Count: 4100+

Summary: The end of the school year is approaching and the only obstacles ahead of you are graduation, prom, and Yuta. 

Senior year tends to be a bittersweet experience for most people, including yourself. You didn’t think it would fly by so fast and it’s all coming to an end after this week. With prom and commencement being the only things ahead of you, the feeling of relaxation is becoming a recurrence for you. You observe the surroundings of your associated student body room and think to yourself, “Hey, I’m probably not going to see any of these people for a very long time or never again!”. For you, it makes things a lot easier.

Going off to college with a clean slate and having the ability to showcase your introduction skills to new peers makes you content. Until you’re brought back to reality that one of your colleagues is coming with you for the ride. Yuta Nakamoto. It is unfair to say that you can’t stand the guy because you two have never properly met but…you can’t stand him. Knowing each other’s names is good enough for you. Having the opportunity to choose from 10 colleges that accepted him and the odds of him choosing the same college as you is highly unlikely. But, Lady Luck thought wrong. You catch him in the middle of the room discussing with fellow classmates on final prom preparations. He always tends to get loud and obnoxious over the smallest of things and today is no different.

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I miss you more and more as each night goes by. I wait another day, the time just drags. The only sound is the clicking of the clock, another minute goes by, another minute without you at my side. It’s hard to live without you, life’s just not the same. The coldness of my body wonders where you are, suffering in silence awaiting your return. There’s nothing harder than living in a world without you. Everything is in slow motion, I can’t find the joy. I cannot help but think how happy I would have been, If you had not left. I am needing you.


Teasing, smut

Fandom: Divergent

Request: “Okay I haven’t read the request rules because I couldn’t find them. Sorry. Anyway here’s the request: could you write one about Divergent? Where the reader is a transfer and she’s a bit late for breakfast, so she thinks that the bedroom will be empty and after taking a shower she returns in only her towel to find there Four who’s looking for her. Then he sort of gets excited from her half-naked body and then they have sex? Thanks 💗💖💘 Btw your stories are always amazing 💕💞💓”

Word count: 832

gif is not mine.

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☠ ➳ Black Sails; III.
send one for my muses reaction!

You’re dripping blood across my floor.”
Whoever tied this bandage was either blind or drunk.”
I told her I would protect her. Did she not believe me?”
I must admit, given how long it’s taken to track him, I had wondered if it was a lost cause.”
I just, well, I was hoping to have you all to myself.”
Well, you all seem rather angry with me. Especially you.”
If I were to write it all down what’s to stop you from killing me right here?”
I have an extremely low tolerance for pain, I’ll say anything to make it stop.”
Well, that’s a few weeks from now, isn’t it? We might be friends by then.”
Wait, we’re moving ahead?”
As I said. You’ll have it.”
You. Come with me.”
I can’t help but notice that you don’t seem to like me very much. Do you mind if I ask why?”
I know this is difficult but I need you to trust me.”
Who the fuck are you kidding?”
Oh, they might save you from the gallows, but they won’t spare you their scorn.”
Think on that while you sit here and pretend that helping me isn’t the only choice you have.”
You know what I find hard to believe? We’ve been on land two days and you still haven’t gotten yourself laid. Now that’s a fucking mystery worth investigating.”
What’s this? You backing out?”
You make me climb those fucking stairs just to see you again and my first order of business will be tossing you and that poxy chair into the fucking ocean.”
Don’t be pleasant with me. I know why you’re here.”
Some risks nowadays, it’s more dangerous not to take ‘em.”
No matter how many lies we tell ourselves or no matter how many stories we convince ourselves we’re part of, we’re all just thieves awaiting a noose.”
After 50 years at sea you’re the only man I’ve ever met that’s gotten dumber with age.”
I want to live. Earning your trust seemed like a good start toward that end.”
He’s got no one left but the misfits. How dangerous can he be?”
That wasn’t a joke, was it?”
They need to yell every now and then. It’s good for their self-esteem.”
Do you really think I’d bring you something like this with just money to offer in return?”
Are you as surprised as I am that I’m the only one here behaving myself?”
What have we been doing here all day if you’re planning on pulling this shit?”
You do understand I had no choice. What you did, it required an answer.”
I’m afraid I’ve become a burden.”
True love shouldn’t require suffering, and you don’t have to take my word for it.”
You move, you die.”
We could have been free.”
He didn’t do this to me. You did.”
So, what now? You here to threaten me?”
To him, we’re all disposable.”

Approaching Sun (6)

Author’s Note: Not as long of a wait, this round guys! But college will be starting back up for me on Monday and I will have considerably less time than I do now, so I hope this chapter will be enough to keep you guys happy for a while.

As always, let me know what you think! Loving your thoughts and opinons!

I’m using (… … . . ) to indicate both a time gap and to show shifts in p.o.v.

This fic is tightly adapted to Sasuke Shinden and Sakura Hiden. Please read the novels or refer to the summaries. I’m tired of waiting for their story, so have decided to write it myself.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Summary: After 2 years, Sasuke returns to the village where friends anxiously await him. Still troubled by the mysteries of Kaguya and his personal guilt, Sasuke is split between friends and his journey. One specific pink-haired individual has perhaps waited for him with far more dedication than anyone else. Troubled by rising casualties and international dependence on her abilities, Sakura is torn between her love for Sasuke and her duty to her village.

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5

Chapter 6: “Over Tea”

Sasuke’s eyebrows drew together at the kunoichi standing a few feet in front of him. Her silly red rain jacket nearly reached her knees and Sasuke couldn’t help but think she looked as if she were drowning in it despite the water that was running off it. Just having thrown his jacket at him, she was trying her best to look serious, one hand on her hip and the other still clutching the remains of the bento box. If only she knew how ridiculous she looked.

It took everything in the Uchiha to check his temper. The previous night had been rough on him. Just as he feared, after all this time, the nightmares returned and Sasuke struggled to find peace in the darkness. With the dawn, had come the rain and the Uchiha had retired to the training zone nearest his campout, fighting the invisible targets in his mind to ease the tension in his body that accompanied the memories. Just as he was about to send his chidori through a tree, he had sensed her. Why he had immediately turned and headed in her direction, the Uchiha didn’t know and was now regretting approaching her.

Now, as he sat with his jacket in his hands, he swallowed his retorts. After a few seconds, he rose to his feet and crossed his arms, replying to her order, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then neither am I,” Sakura said, walking over to him, situating herself in the exact spot where he had just been sitting.

Sasuke raised his hand to massage his temples and under his breath, he said, “I see you’re just as annoying as you’ve always been.”

“You haven’t changed much either,” she replied, glancing up to make eye contact with him. After a few seconds of shared glaring, Sakura’s stern expression faded and she offered him a faint smile, to which Sasuke couldn’t help but breathe out his frustration at the sight. Infuriating woman.

The thunder that shook the ground had the both of them wearing shocked expressions as a tree a few meters away from them lit up as it came into contact with the lightning that streaked down from the sky.

Without another second’s hesitation, Sasuke reached his hand out and grabbed Sakura’s arm, pulling her quickly away from the tree, just in case. He led her a safe distance away before releasing her arm and slipping back on his soaked cloak.

“Ok,” he said, “I’ll go.”

… … … … … … … … . .

This was not a good idea, the Uchiha thought as he stared at Sakura’s apartment door. She was fumbling with the lock in the rain and Sasuke frowned as the rain went from heavy to excessive in the span of two seconds.

He was making a huge mistake. It would be one thing for Sasuke to accepts someone’s hospitality but it was something entirely different to accept Sakura's—the one person he was doing his best to avoid at all costs. What was he going to do now? This was the last thing that Sakura needed, for him to show up back in her life. He was doing her harm just by interacting with her.

A large click resounded and Sakura pushed firmly on the door.

“Come in,” she said pleasantly, and Sasuke took one last second of indecision before sighing and stepping over the threshold.

Sakura flicked the lights on and hung her rain jacket on the rack next to her door. He jumped when her hands lightly touched his shoulders and he made to jerk away from her before realizing that she was just trying to lighten him from the load of his drenched cloak. He rolled his shoulders back, allowing it to roll off into her hands.

“Well, it’s not much, but make yourself at home,” she said after hanging his jacket next to hers. She gestured to the apartment around her and Sasuke couldn’t help but take it all in, committing the layout to memory. He didn’t know exactly what to expect, other than that it would be small, but the room before him was simple, clean, and surprisingly comforting. There was a large sofa, a yellow sitting chair in the corner, and a small bookshelf on the adjacent wall. He couldn’t help but realize how warm it felt compared to the cool weather outside and the smell of cooked rice instantly made his stomach growl. He coughed in an attempt to disguise the sound.

Sakura smiled at him, leading him down the hallway to the bathroom.

“The shower is in here,” she said, opening the door. “Once you are dry, then I’ll fix you something to eat.”

Sakura then retreated to the far room at the end of the corridor and Sasuke couldn’t help but stand awkwardly in the hall as he heard her shuffling noisily in the bedroom. She returned a few minutes later, offering him a pair of large baggy pants and a blank white t-shirt, which Sasuke also noted to be his size.

“Whose-” he began, then firmly clamped his mouth before he could finish the sentence, instantly regretting what he was about to ask. He blushed furiously and turned to look away from her.

“Oh,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, obviously catching on to his train of thought. “Those were my father’s clothes before I claimed them. They’re big but that’s all I have and they should work until I can clean yours. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, hiding his face from her. He entered the bathroom and closed the door, letting out a heavy exasperated sigh. He glanced down at the clothes in his hands and couldn’t help but feel a little relieved despite his embarrassment. He leaned his head back against the door. What the hell was he doing?

… … … … … … … … . .

Sakura pulled fresh rice from the cooker for the second time today, arranging it once again into nori wrapped balls of rice, adding fresh tomatoes on top. She fumbled gracelessly with the plate, almost spilling it onto the floor when she heard the bathroom door open. Steadying herself, she breathed deeply to calm down as she walked over to the dining table, setting down the plate and pretending like nothing had just happened.

Sasuke walked into the room, appropriately post-shower disheveled, wet hair dangling in his eyes. Sakura couldn’t help but appraise how her father’s clothes hung loosely on his body. She snapped her gaze away when she noticed him raising an eyebrow at her directed stare.

“Here,” she gestured quickly to the plate at the table. “I hope you don’t mind vegetable Gunkan-maki. I added tomatoes for you.”

“It looks more appetizing when it’s not on the ground,” he said bluntly, coming to stand beside the table. It took Sakura a second to realize he was teasing.

“Yes. Well, you’ll be glad to know I’m not usually so clumsy,” she said, then froze when a smirk became present on his face.

“Are you sure about that?” he remarked, sitting down across from the food. Sakura’s face turned scarlet at the realization that he must have seen her flailing just a few minutes ago.

She took a seat opposite him, helping herself to her own portion of the Gunkan-maki. This wasn’t her first time making it, but she found herself questioning whether or not that it was good and if Sasuke would actually like it. He ate quickly and Sakura realized that it might have been awhile since he had last eaten anything homecooked.

With this thought, she began to ask him about all the food he ate on his journey, what he did for shelter, and if he was treated kindly. He had short positive answers to the first two questions, both to what Sakura had expected. The medical side of her questioned whether he was getting the nutrition he needed along with the rest his body demanded after using the Rinnegan. He didn’t answer the third question and Sakura pretended not to notice.

He finished his first serving so Sakura jumped up to get him more. Halfway through his second serving, she noticed him purposefully slowing down.

“There’s more where that came from,” she said with a small giggle. “I want you to eat as much as you can before you—.”

He looked up at her and Sakura held her breath. She could have tried to backtrack or make an excuse for what she was about to say, but they both knew what she meant.

“When will you be leaving?” she asked boldly after a few minutes, a sad smile marking her features as she averted her eyes from him. She might as well ask, since he wasn’t denying it.

Looking back down at his food, he answered, “Soon.”

And there it was. The answer she knew she didn’t want to hear. It hit her like a fist to the gut and heavy silence hung over the both of them. Soon.

As if wanting to leave absolutely no doubt, Sasuke added, “Once Naruto comes back to the village, I will return to my mission.”

“But—” she began, then cut herself short, redirecting her gaze away from him. There was no point to try to convince him otherwise. She had already tried this once before and Sakura was aware of what Sasuke had to do for their village. She had once helped Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi, and Obito defeat Kaguya. But now, Sasuke continued to search for traces of Kaguya and investigate her race of people that the shinobi world still believed to be out there.

It was hard for her not to think selfishly in this matter. What would she do if Sasuke might never be home for good? She couldn’t bear the thought of eternal loneliness without him. And what would she do if he decided he wanted nothing to do with her, when he was home?

Standing, she grabbed the now empty plates from the table and returned to the kitchen as Sasuke observed her silently.

He followed her lead and began to help her, taking the plates from her hands and proceeding to wash them in the sink. Sakura panicked at his nearness and in order to busy herself, began to boil water for hot, herbal tea. She couldn’t look at him and didn’t want to face him, so kept her body strategically placed so that he was at her back.

“Sasuke, I understand why you must leave. I understand why you believe that you have to be the one to carry this weight. But please, when you’re home, don’t treat me like a stranger.” Despite how hard she tried to resist them, small tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she said this. She couldn’t help but think about the past week of knowing he was here but not being able to see him. It was unfair and absolute torture. She wiped furiously at her eyes before Sasuke could see them. All she could ever do was cry.

Sakura heard Sasuke turn the faucet off and lean against the counter behind her.

“Then also understand that it is not my intention to hurt you.”

She could acutely feel his presence from behind her and after a few minutes of gathering her courage, she turned to face him.

“If you think that deliberately going out of your way to avoid me, isn’t hurting-”

He took a step towards her and looked down at her, suddenly interrupting her, “Is this what you want? Is this how you want to live?”

“Sasuke,” she began, placing a palm on her forehead. “However long it takes, I will wai-.”

Sasuke turned away from her with an impatient sigh. He walked out of the kitchen and looked out the dining room window, watching the lightning streak across the sky. He placed his hands on the window sill and leaned forward.

“What is it with you people,” he breathed out angrily. “You and Naruto. Why can’t you just move on with your lives and forget me?”

Sakura gawked at him, frustrated with his hurtful words. “Because we can’t, you idiot! You don’t think that would be easier for me? For all of us? But guess what, Sasuke, it’s not going to happen.”

A solid ten minutes of tense thunder-filled speechlessness surrounded them before either of them made another sound. The sudden screeching of the kettle shocked Sakura into movement and she removed the pot from the heat.

“I’m sorry,” Sakura said, pouring the hot water into two cups . “I didn’t bring you here to yell at you.” She suddenly felt very guilty. This was not how she pictured an evening with him.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, still facing the window. “I’ll never be able to give you what you want.”

After she finished infusing the tea leaves, she placed the cups on the table and continued to stare at his back. He turned to face her and the two of them both looked down at their feet.

“How do you know what I want, Sasuke Uchiha?” She saw him silently glance up at her in the corner of her vision. He pulled his hands from his pockets, sat down at the table again, and reached out for one of the cups on its surface.

… … … … … … … … . .

Sasuke stared hard into the tea, not wanting to answer her question. Of course, he knew what she wanted. Sakura, his childhood friend who grew up alongside him as a genin, wanted him to be with her. Selfishly, Sasuke had wanted nothing more than to find happiness, too, at one point in his life. That’s why he had created the bonds that he had. He had wanted to be with his friends and eventually take root in Konohagakure. However, this was a dream Sasuke had abandoned a long time ago. His purpose had changed. He had become a ninja that the shinobi world now relied on. For the sake of those around him—for those whose happiness he had to protect but could not share in—Sasuke had given up that dream. There was something bigger now that was more important than what either of them wanted.

Instead of replying, he took a full drink of the steaming tea in his hand, warm relief traveling throughout his rigid body. He suddenly realized that this was a medicinal tea as his tense muscles instantly became relaxed. He couldn’t help but be surprised at the tea’s effects.

“Well,” Sakura stated, sitting at the table with him again. “For starters, I want you to stop dodging me when in you’re in the village. Can you at least do that?” She tried to smile, diminishing some of the tension between them.

Stubborn, as always. She didn’t know what she was asking. By requesting this, she was only prolonging her own heartache.

“I’ll agree,” he stated. “But only if you comply to something that I want.”

She stopped mid-sip, lowering her cup and arching an eyebrow. The expression on her face wasn’t one of curiosity or wonder. Her eyes only professed worry.

“What’s that?” she asked finally.

More intently than he ever had before, he firmly held her green eyes with his, wanting the full weight of his words to hit home with her. “I want you to stop waiting for me, Sakura.”

(Chapter 7)

Your stranger

The first time you saw him, he had entered the store at 4am, staggering around seemingly half asleep whilst rubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his over sized hoodie. He had approached the counter holding a pack of coke and promptly chucked a crumpled note onto the counter before then turning and leaving the store.

This visit would be the first of many.  

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Typical Love Story ; Part.2 - Peter Parker

Request: I got over 90 which absolutely blows me away, thank you soooo much!

Words: 3354

Warning: None, not as sad as part 1 but still pretty sad, and heads up this is in no way representing how Michelle is in the film because I have no idea how they will present her. Let me know if you would like a part 3!(:

Part 1: http://potter-imagines.tumblr.com/post/148256280315/typical-love-story-peter-parker-imagine

Tuesday morning was spent making thousands of calls canceling appointments, going through return policies, and coercing your worrisome mother into dropping the topic of Prom entirely.

The prepossessing Prom gown mocked you continuously. It lied untouch on a pink hanger awaiting a dance it would never see. You hated to sound pitiful and attention seeking, but the dress made you feel like a princess. The material clung to your body in all the right places sending more of an alluring vibe than scandalous. Cinderella blue covered the bottom skirt end of the dress and the top portion was silver underneath with blue laces decorating the chest. Your mom returned the dress despite how much she tried to persuade you into keeping it.

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Line In The Sand-Chapter Three

Tama Tonga/OC

After their shower Tama helped her dry off and put lotion on, halfway through she had fallen asleep on him. The sight had brought a smile to his face. He had dressed her despite her being asleep then carried her to her bedroom after the other guards had come and gone to let her finish her early nap.

Tama had the cameras that were placed outside around the property queued up on his laptop while he made a few phone calls.

“Thought you forgot about me.”

“How could I forget about my sister,” Tama smiled leaning back on his bed. It had been a few weeks since he had gotten down to Miami per Colin’s request. The last time he had talked to his sister and best friend, was when her and her husband dropped him off to the airport in San Diego. His sister, Melanie, and her husband Joe were Tama’s best friends. They are the only people who knew him better than any other person in his life given that they grew up together. “How’s South Beach, broddy?” Melanie laughed slightly when he blew out a big breath. “It’s cool, Mel.”

“It’s cool, Mel,” she mocked playfully. “What’s going on? You don’t like workin’ with the Boss Man?”

“Workin’ with him is fine. He’s actually pretty chill.”


“The way he treats his wife is terrible. I thought the stories we had heard were bullshit or at least halfway made up,” Tama sighed sitting up to glance at his laptop. “From what I saw last night they aren’t.”

“Look here, Tama. You are there to work not to be playing captain save a hoe.” She spoke sternly. True enough, Tama’s the big brother but she liked to boss him around and give him the business when she thought he was wrong or heading in the wrong direction. “Whatever is going on between him and her is none of your business. She’s a hoe that lucked up for the money, if she’s getting the snot beat out of her that was her choice.”

“Don’t call her that, Mel. Sevyn isn’t a hoe, she’s cool.”

“Tama, don’t. I know that tone and I know what it means. Stop it.” Melanie chastised over the phone, “You need to stay away from her.” She had heard far worse than Tama or her husband had. In her eyes, Colin’s wife was nothing but a gold digging slut who deserved everything that came to her. “I’m supposed to protect her, Mel. I can’t stay away from her.” Tama kept his eyes locked on the screen of his laptop waiting for Colin’s arrival. If he didn’t focus on something else he might have said something he regretted and didn’t mean to his sister. “Just keep it strictly about work. Don’t be your normal flirty self, Tama.” In theory that all sounded good but he couldn’t help who he was. And it was much too late to be about work now. “Don’t fuck her. Keep your dick to yourself,” Melanie spat. Her words made him laugh, she knew him far too well. While he wasn’t the type of man to sleep with any and every one, once he felt a certain attraction his clear thinking became clouded. “If I tell you something, you gotta promise not to yell in my ear. If you yell in my ear, I’m gonna hang up.” She sucked her teeth before telling him to go ahead. Melanie had a feeling of what he was going to say but she was hoping she was wrong. “We had sex this mornin’,” he admitted softly, “On the kitchen table.”

“I’m sorry. What did you just say? I know I didn’t hear what I thought I heard, Alipate.”

“Chill with the government, Mel. You heard what I said.”

“She’s married to your fucking boss, Tama. Is she worth your kneecaps? Or your life?”

“You didn’t see what I saw when I met her last night, Mel. Colin treats her like shit, like an object.”

“Wait,” Melanie spat. “You met her last night and she let you fuck this morning. But you want me to stop calling her the hoe she is. You are something else.”

“Don’t, Mel. She’s a sweet girl who’s in a bad way. Like I said the stories were true for the most part.”

“Let me guess, you wanna take her away from his evilness. Just mind your business, keep your dick to yourself and do what he’s paying you to do.”

Tama continued to talk to his sister but decided to change the subject as he awaited the return of Colin. Telling her about what transpired between Sevyn and him seemed like a good idea at first. Melanie didn’t want her big brother getting hurt behind some broad. They only had each other, she didn’t want to be without him again.

Sevyn stirred in her sleep feeling someone run their fingers through her loose hair. She leaned into their touch with her eyes closed, not ready to get up. The way Tama had fucked had made her exhausted, the shower and massage were icing on the cake that had put her to sleep. This was the first time she was actually able to sleep peacefully. A kiss to her forehead had completely woken her up. When she opened her eyes, she found Colin’s blue eyes staring back at her. “Hey there, beautiful.” He greeted her softly still running his fingers through her hair. She sat rubbing sleepily at her eyes. It was hard but she made herself wake up completely. “How long have you been back?”

“About an hour. Did you miss me?” Sevyn bit her lip feeling slightly awkward. In all honesty, she hadn’t thought about Colin since she woke up alone in their bed. She simply nodded to make him happy. “We’ve got to go to one of my clubs tonight. You need something new to wear,” he started as he sat on the bed beside her, “I’m gonna have Tama take you to get something. Wherever you want to go, he’ll take you.”

“I can drive myself, Col. There’s no need to bother him with this.”

“We talked about this, Sevyn. You need to be protected when I can’t be there.”

“You told me you wouldn’t hide things from me, Colin. If this is going to work, you need to tell me if something is happening.”

Colin hated that he had made that deal with her. His job and his wife were two different worlds to him. Having her tainted by any parts of that world was unnecessary in his eyes. Sevyn didn’t share the same thoughts though.

“There’s a small threat, nothing major.”

“Colin,” she sighed now fully awake. “If it was nothing major then you wouldn’t have gone the extra mile to hire a guard for me. Is someone trying to hurt me?”

“They’re trying to hurt me and they know if they get to my prized possession then they get me,” He explained nonchalantly, “Get up and get dressed. It’s almost three and we’re leaving for the club around ten.” Without another word, Colin rose from the bed to leave the room more than likely headed for his office. It was unfair to her that Colin would try to leave her in the dark especially when her life was technically in danger. Reluctantly she got out of the bed to get dressed. At this rate, Tama was the least of her worries when there was someone trying to hurt her because of her husband.


“Alright, Sevyn. Pick out something nice. I wanna show you off.”  Sevyn rolled her eyes leaning into the kiss Colin placed on her forehead. Those are the same instructions he gave to her whenever she needed a new outfit. “As always, I’ll see you when I get back,” she waved headed for the door. Tama was standing there waiting on her with his arms folded across his chest. The facial expression he had didn’t give much away as far as what he was thinking. “Just do what I ask, beautiful. Don’t disappoint me.” Colin waited until she had turned to walk away before he gave her ass a hard slap. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes shot up to Tama’s and held his stare. He shook his head the motioned for her to come on.

Tama opened the passenger door to the jet-black suburban for her and waited until she got in to close the door. Once he was in he made sure her safety belt was on, he fastened his own and started the car. “Where am I headed,” he asked pulling out of the driveway. “Lincoln Road Mall is fine. I’ll probably just find something in Forever21 or Express.” He asked her to put into the car’s GPS for him. Sevyn felt awkward that he made no attempt to have a conversation with her especially with what transpired earlier that morning.

It took twenty minutes to get to the mall but it felt so much longer to Sevyn. Tama didn’t look at her, make any attempt to touch her or talk to her. It felt like torture and she started to wonder if she had done something wrong.

Tama helped her out of the SUV, then placed a hand at her back leading her towards the stores. “Which store do you want to go to first, Sugar?”

She furrowed her brows looking over at him. The name had caught her off guard. Had he really forgotten her name that quick? “Sevyn,” she corrected softly. “I know what I said. Now which store,” he asked returning her gaze until she looked away. She pointed towards Forver21 not bothering to look at him, she knew he had seen her.

The associates greeted her, knowing exactly who she was. Colin Harris’ wife. A label she loved and hated. Right now she was in the middle. The down side was that they swarmed her in whatever store she went into to make sure she didn’t give Colin a bad review. The up side though, they did whatever they could to make her comfortable and were very friendly.

“You need help finding something, Sevyn?” The associate called her by name after Sevyn had asked her numerous times not to call her by her last name. She told them all she was her first name, not her last. Her last name didn’t make her. “Nope, I’ve got it but I’ll let you know if I need help.” Tama stood back while Sevyn searched for a few dresses to try on. He surveyed the store looking for a threat. Unlike Sevyn, he wasn’t in the dark, he knew exactly who he was looking for and why. Even if he didn’t have the attraction he has to Sevyn he would still protect her. It’s his job, it’s what he does. No one was getting to her on his watch.

“Hey um you wanna come to the dressing rooms with me,” she asked grabbing onto to his bicep.

“You need help?” The smirk she enjoyed seeing made another appearance.

“Colin said you have to follow me wherever I go,” she shrugged, “You wouldn’t be doing your job if you didn’t come back here with me.”

Melanie’s voice echoed in his mind. Staying away from anything that would put him in the position he was in with Sevyn in the kitchen was what he should have been doing. But seeing the extra bounce in her step was pulling him toward her. Sevyn isn’t the girl Melanie thought she was, at least she didn’t seem that way to him.

“Where you at,” he asked loudly. He stood at the bank of dressing rooms waiting to hear her voice. “I’m in here.” She poked her head out of the door and nodded her head towards him. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

“Nonsense, Tama. Get in here.”

“I think it’s much safer if I stay out here.” Honestly, her invitation had made his dick twitch a little in response. All he could think about was fucking her inside the dressing room.

“Come on. I might need help and I’m gonna need your opinion.”

He huffed walking towards her. “Fine but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tama looked around before stepping inside. The last thing he needed was any of the associates to see him with Sevyn in the dressing room. They were like puppets to him. They would go back and share any information they could with Colin to make a buck. “Fuck you get undressed quick.” Sevyn shrugged taking the royal blue tunic dress off the hanger. Tama sat on the bench watching her pull it up over her hips and settle the straps. “What do you think,” she asked turning towards him. “Looks kind of basic to me.” At least he’s honest, she thought to herself taking the dress off leaving her in only her purple lace thong. “If you wanted to strip for me, that’s all you had to say.” Their eyes met through the mirror, she shook her head and smiled. “Put this back on the hanger. Make yourself useful.” She tossed the dress and hanger at him. She debated quietly with herself trying to figure out which dress to try on next. She wasn’t sure about the floral print cocktail peplum dress anymore, it looked cute before but now not so much. The black dress with cut outs was calling to her, she liked it though she wasn’t sure if Colin would. “Either try the dresses on or put your clothes back on, Sugar.” There was that name again, she shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “Is my nakedness bothering you?” She asked walking closer to him.

“And you called me bad. You’re the bad one. I’m tryin’ to do my job and here you are seducin’ me. How dare you?”

“All I’m doing is trying on dresses, Tama. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It is when you know I’m tryin’ not to bend you over in here.”

She gasped placing her hand on her chest feigning innocence. “Mmm, I’m a married woman. You shouldn’t be trying to fuck me.”

“Somebody needs to. It’s clear your husband isn’t takin’ care of you.”

“Who takes care of you, Tama?” Sevyn stood close to him, bending at the waist with her hands planted on his firm thighs. Her nails dug into them slightly, sending a shock straight to his groin. “No one. God has yet to bless me with a wife.” The tension between them was thick. There was no sign of anxiousness or fear, it was purely sexual. “He did bless you in other ways though.” As she spoke she lowered to the floor until she sat on her knees before him. She had the button on his black jeans popped open before he could protest, to her surprise he was wearing black briefs. “Inside of these jeans are rough on my skin,” he laughed a little. Her eyes found his again as she laughed. He had read her mind because she was surely about to question why he had obstructed her plans with the briefs. “Disappointed?” He mocked lifting his hips to help her get his pants down. His dick sprung out hitting her lips, she giggled and grabbed ahold of it still maintaining eye contact with Tama. “Not in the slightest, Tama.”

The head of his dick was slick with his precum, she used her thumb to spread it around before licking from base to tip. She repeated her actions still staring into his eyes, licking around him like he was her personal blow pop. “Don’t tease,” he groaned softly. Sevyn wrapped her lips around his head, allowing her spit to flow freely from her mouth onto his length using it as lubricant to jack him as she went along. Tama watched her every move intently, struggling to keep his hips still. She had just started and he already felt like he was going to cum.


Sevyn felt his dick twitching and straining against her cheeks and the roof of her mouth as she plunged him into her throat. He wasn’t a small man but she tried to take him all anyway. She gagged a bit before backing off. Slowly she withdrew the shaft and the head popped free of her lips with a loud sucking noise. “Aah, fuck,” Tama grunted. “Do that again, Sugar.” He bit his lip to keep from shouting out as he thrusted the saliva soaked head back against her face. Sevyn draped her lips back over the head then sucked him again deeper.

Tama’s hips were bucking wildly as he sought to keep control. He wanted this to last. “You look amazing with my dick in your mouth,” He muttered feeling his toes curl in his shoes. From the way she angled her body in front of him, Tama had a great view of her breasts, her ass in her thong, and his dick disappearing down her throat. He started to think about the security procedures he had learned over the last few weeks. It was all he could do to stop from cumming. He panted noisily forgetting they were in public as Sevyn continued to fuck him with her mouth. His groans, her moans and slurping sounds filled the small room.

Sevyn’s hand that rested on his thigh moved down to her cloth covered mound. Sucking him off had more than turned her on, his groaning was pushing her over. The throbbing had become unbearable. She rubbed tight circles over her clit while simultaneously deep throating Tama’s dick. “That’s it, Sugar. Play with that pretty pussy for me,” Tama grunted reaching a hand into her hair. Again, she slid him out of her mouth with a pop, continuing to jack him off with one hand. “You better be quiet.” She moaned seductively eyeing him. “Someone might hear you, Tama.” A breathless laugh escaped him, she had to be fucking with him. “Shit, I can’t help it. You’re fuckin’ killin’ me right.” His hips lifted slightly to meet her strokes. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Just as he prepared to answer her, she slid his length pass her lips once again and the slurping noises were back. Thick spit dribbled down the sides of Tama’s shaft as it thrust in and out of her mouth. Wanting to focus on him cumming, Sevyn withdrew her hand from her panties and wrapped it around his balls massaging them gently as his dick hit the back of her throat.

“What are you doin’ to me?” Tama asked staring down at her. He watched his dick slide in and out of her mouth still gripping her hair, guiding her along his length. Never in his life had a blowjob felt like this, she deserved any and everything she wanted after the way she made him feel. “Fuck … fuck … fuck,” he groaned as she sucked faster and harder. Sevyn had hollowed out her cheeks, continuing to let the spit dribble freely from her lips. She felt him start to swell in her mouth, letting her know he was about to cum. Sliding him out of her mouth allowing his hand to slip from her hair, she continued to jack him off watching his face intently. She wanted to see the face he made when she made him cum. “Let go, Tama. I don’t think we have much time before someone comes to check on us,” she whispered. “It’s comin’, Sugar.” Tama’s body started to tingle from his head to his fingertips to his dick all the way down to his toes as his orgasm rushed through him. As soon as, she felt the first drop hit her chin, she opened her mouth with her tongue out to catch the rest. “Holy fuck, Sugar, Fuckin’ hell.” He came in fast spirts cursing repeatedly to himself. To Tama she looked sexy as hell with his cum on her tongue for him to see. She continued to rub up and down his length until she was sure he was done and sat with her mouth for him to see.

“What you gon do with that, babygirl?” With a shrug, Sevyn closed her mouth and swallowed every drop of his cum. “Let me see,” he ordered still breathing raggedly. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. “All gone, Tama.”


Tama had no idea how he walked from the dressing room to the cash register to the car. His legs felt like jelly, the two of them sat in the running car while he got himself together.

“I think the black dress is gonna look really good on me.” Sevyn sat in the passenger seat, looking in the visor mirror reapplying her lip balm. Tama just stared at her, he had never been so upset and happy with someone in his entire life. “You got some nerve, girl.” Ignoring his comment, she smirked to herself and continued with her rant about her dress. Tama shook his head and prepared to leave the parking lot.

“The nerve of you,” he chuckled glancing in her direction. “You did that shit and now you actin’ all innocent like it didn’t happen. Talkin’ about that dress like I care right now.”

“What is it that I did, Tama?” She asked turning in her seat to look at him.

“You just sucked my soul out through my dick and expect me to talk to you about that damn dress, Sevyn. I mean shit, that was some impressive work.” She smiled shyly offering a small thank you. “No, not thank you. I want my soul and feelin’ in my legs back.”

“I was just returnin’ the favor.”

Tama didn’t mention anything else about it, he only playfully glared at her from time to time. It was a damn good time but he knew he needed to back off her. If was going to continue whatever they were doing, he needed to know a little more about her and her marriage to Colin. He can’t go around sleeping with married women, he wouldn’t want someone sleeping with his wife. The next time they were alone, he planned to find out as much as he could. Hopefully he could talk to her this time instead of fucking her, even though the latter sounded much better.


anonymous asked:

My question is how are you? I know that the year anniversary for your loss and absence from social media has either passed or coming up and I just wanted to let you know that someone is thinking and praying for you half a world away. I love your stories and look forward to them but I also remember that you are a person and have trails of your own. Awaiting your return patiently, H~

God, you’re so incredibly sweet, anon! Your love and support mean the world to me!

I’m good. Real life has been thankfully so busy I’ve not really even had the time to think of the anniversary of the loss. More importantly, I don’t really like lingering on bygones. What’s now matters a lot more to me. 

Thank you so much for such incredible love and patience, anon!

Also, I want to take this moment to thank every single anon who’s left me such beautiful message/s. Even if I don’t particularly answer one or another, trust me, I’ve read every single one of them and I’ve been moved to tears.

Thank you!

Jeff Went Left.

If you’re reading this note, I’m sorry. I assume you’re in the same situation as me—that smug bastard drugged you and dumped you in these catacombs, with only a candle to find your way out.

I don’t know how many people he’s done this to, but there have probably been a lot. He wouldn’t spend so much time on it otherwise, would he? He told me the catacombs are a maze, and he’s set traps and deadfalls at every turn. But he promised there’s one safe way out, if I’m lucky enough to guess the correct path.

I’m not lucky. I’m just an art student, here on holiday. There’s no way I’m getting out alive. But I want someone to. I want revenge.

I’m sure you do, too, so let’s help each other. I still have my sketchbook and pencils. Before each turn, I’m going to leave them behind for the next person, writing down which way I went. If I survive to another passageway, I’ll come back and leave a page like this one. If I don’t, then it’s up to the next person to carry on and go the opposite direction.

Eventually, if we keep leaving breadcrumbs, one of us will escape. Get to the police and find that bastard. Do it for those who didn’t make it.

My name is Jeff. I went left here.

Reading the note by candlelight you feel a glimmer of hope, until you realize you’re reading from the sketchbook itself. Jeff never returned to tear out the page, and you’re the first person here since him.

You look to your right, where the dark maze awaits.

@scredgirl - thank you for the gorgeous art! And since this little snippet of writing has been on my website for a bit, I can finally post it here! So here goes, hope you enjoy.

Her tiny feet pounded upon the ground. She leaped over fallen logs and dashed through tangled bushes. Banners of red curls flowed behind her as she raced towards home. She was missing the most important part of the day.

It wasn’t surprising that such a small child found herself delayed by the wondrous sea. Crashing waves mesmerized her. Sea shells told her secret stories no one else knew. Seagulls sang her songs of other lands while seals watched her with wide eyes.

“Selkies,” she had whispered when she saw them. “Please don’t drag me into the water.”

Because they heard her plea, they stayed where they were. Content, or so she hoped, to linger and watch the flame haired lass play with seaweed.

She had lingered too long at the shore. Her mind had wandered —  as little minds were wont to do — and the sun had set upon the land. Eyes the color of ivy widened with fear before she sped away into the forest.

Her clan was never far from the sea. Perhaps because her father had told them all they would be safe. Perhaps because they were part selkies themselves. Their clan was made of dark eyed men and black haired women, which were rare in these parts.

But more likely because her father had been a Viking who promised they were safe by the sea. Vikings did not break promises.

Light dappled the leaves as the moon rose at the edge of her vision. Heart in her throat and lungs heaving, she tumbled from the undergrowth into the homestead of her clan.

They had yet to build the walls around their village. Only a few years had passed since they settled in this place, and her mother cautioned against rushing the process. They had many roundhouses to build. Many trees to be cut, huts erected, and thatch to be gathered. She was wise. The clan listened to her words.

Tartans slapped in the breeze, left out to dry. Starlight sparkled on blue, green, and purple. The colors always eased Sorcha’s troubled mind. They made her feel safe.

Firelight at the center of the village glowed bright. Long strands of twine hung with drying fish over small fires in front of each family’s roundhouse. Stones piled in sections kept sheep from wandering from their owner’s sides. The hawk of their leader, whom she had lovingly named Tapa, watched her with solemn eyes. But it was the communal fire which drew the little girl.

“Sorcha!” her mother called. “You are late!”

Sorcha blushed as red as her hair. As only child of the village healer and wise woman, she was expected to be better behaved.

Head tucked down, she shuffled towards her mother.

“I am sorry Máthair. I was by the water,” she whispered.

Her mother stroked her hair. Sorcha knew every callous and every scar upon that hand as though it were her own. Máthair worked hard, and her skin showed the signs of labor with pride.

“You cannot become a selkie like the other children, mo leanbh, my child.” Her mother chided. “You are mine and are not touched by Fae.”

One of the smaller children, Brigid of dark hair and even darker temper, shouted at her mother. “Bridei! Tell us the story!”

Her mother gestured towards an empty spot far from her knee. That was to be Sorcha’s punishment. Far from her mother’s side, she would be subjected to the pinching of the other children. They picked on her mercilessly. She was not one of them. The daughter of a Viking and a Pict could never be a true Irish lass.

No matter how strongly she felt the land sing in her heart.

“What story would you have me tell?” her mother asked. She folded her worn hands into her lap, the picture of a patient storyteller.

“Tell us of the Fae!” Brigid said, spite making her words sound hateful. “Tell us of the selkies, and how beautiful they are.”

Sorcha glared at her, red brows drawn down. “The selkies aren’t any more beautiful than the others of the Fae.”

“That’s not true. The selkies lure men to them, they’re obviously the prettiest.”

“The korrigan are the most beautiful!”

The two girls were known to get into arguments, mostly over the mythic creatures who walked their lands. Both believed in the stories, as most did, but they were more dedicated than the average believer.

“Children,” Bridei raised her hand for silence. “I shall tell you the story of the Faerie Midwife. Of how a mortal woman walked into the land of the Fae, and returned unscathed.”

Sorcha watched with pride as her mother drew herself up to her great height. She was no small woman, having descended from a tribe of warring people who were bloodthirsty in battle and valued their women like gold.

“It is well known that the Fae have children. And when they do, it is a difficult birth. You have all seen your mothers struggle through the long nine moons that await a birth, but for a Fae the time feels much longer.

“They are creatures of comfort, and do not easily bear pain. It came to be that an ancient midwife was called upon in the middle of the night. The moon’s silver beams touched her door and with the beams, came the sound of knocking.

“Now the midwife was not expecting visitors, but she was used to desperate people seeking her assistance in the wee hours of morning. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and answered the door. Before her stood an ugly, pale, shriveled old man who bade her assistance with his wife’s birth.

“Upon her agreement, he helped her onto his coal-black horse who stared at her with eyes of fire. They rode as though the dullahan followed them. They rode until she did not know where she was or how long they had ridden. But they soon arrived to a small and simple hut in the middle of the forest where she could hear the man’s wife screaming.”

A shiver danced down Sorcha’s spine. She had heard the cries of pregnant mothers struggling to bring life into the world. She had also seen the bodies they burned upon the pyres when the mothers were unsuccessful.

“Small children stood at the door. They made the midwife shiver, as their eyes appeared wrong. Not glowing or filled with happiness, but hollow as they watched her pass. She knew her job well. She helped the mother through the difficult birth and took the small vial of oil offered immediately after the child came screaming into this world.

“‘Strike the child’s eyes with this,’ the mother told her. ‘Do it now!’

“Now, the midwife was not a foolish woman. She rubbed a healthy dose of oil upon the child’s eyes, but wiped one of her own. The room shifted beneath her feet and she saw the creatures before her as they truly were. Golden light shimmered around the mother. The creatures she thought were children were, in fact, goblins.

“And the husband standing in the corner was the most fierce of all Unseelie she had ever seen before. Horns stretched towards the ceiling, great claws tipped his fingers, but it was his eyes which frightened her most. Soulless and hungry, he watched her with eyes the color of fire.”

All the children gasped. Some grabbed hold of their siblings, but Sorcha’s eyes watched her mother was rapt attention. She was getting to the best part.

“The midwife stayed calm. She helped the mother swath her new imp baby in silver fabric shining with the moon’s light. The Fae man put her on his demon horse, and together they rode back to her home.

“She had seen the Fae in their true form. The ointment was to ensure that their children could see past their glamour. It wasn’t until she was in the market the next day when she realized her mistake. She saw the Fae man again, stealing from a vendor in the marketplace.

“‘Stop!’ she shouted at him. ‘I have caught you, thief!’

“He looked at her with surprise. ‘You can see me?’

“Then she realized her folly. As did the Fae. He snarled at her, grasping onto her skirts with strength she could not escape from. ‘The ointment. For meddling in affairs that are not yours, you shall see me no more.’

“His threat issued, the Fae snatched her eye from her head.” Bridei leaned forward, clawing at the children who shrieked and fell to the ground. “Never again did the midwife see out of that eye. As punishment for crossing the Fae.”

Clapping echoed when the story finished. The children shouted for more, but Bridei would not be convinced. “No no,” she said while laughing. “Only one story a night! Or you will all have nightmares. Just remember, never trust the Fae.”

Sorcha sat up straight, convinced she was about to best Brigid. “But we can trust the Seelie, right Máthair? They are the Fae of light and good.”

The expression upon her mother’s face darkened. “None of them are good, mo leanbh. Do not ever make the mistake of thinking any of them are good. The Fae are dangerous creatures who will make any pact to get what they want. Be it Seelie or Unseelie, they are untrustworthy and evil.”

Sinking back to the ground, Sorcha tried not to hear the other children snickering. The others stood to go back to their own fires. But her mother remained where she was.

Sorcha scooted towards her mother’s knee. Although she had misbehaved today, she hoped that her mother could forgive her. It was difficult to be a good girl when the world was calling. The sea was a mystery, the forest an adventure, and the world was altogether too big.

“I am sorry,” Sorcha whispered as she leaned her head against her mother’s knee. “I tried to be good today.”

“You are always good, a ghrá geal, bright love. I am too harsh in teaching you to be wary of the Fae.” Bridei stroked her fingers through the snarls of Sorcha’s hair. “I only want to make you understand our world and the dangers of the Fae world. You would be a treasure the Fae would not be able to resist. Flame haired child of mine. I want you to stay safe.”

In her mother’s words, Sorcha heard the hard bite of iron. Only once had she seen the warrior Bridei kept locked inside of her. She remembered all too well the memory of her healer mother walking into their roundhouse, and exiting the woad painted berserker who protected their village from wolves and men.

She didn’t ever want to see that nightmare of a woman again. But, there was always the chance that her mother would be called to battle. That the night would fall, fires would blaze, and blood would spill upon the soil.

Sorcha never doubted her mother would fight to get her back from the Fae, if she were ever stolen. The legends said sometimes it was possible. Tam Lin had done it. Her mother could too.

The lulling sweeps of her mother’s hands eased Sorcha into sleep, slumped against warm skin and comforting protection. The Fae would not come for her tonight.

Not with her mother watching over her.

The Yellow Beetle » Rafinha Alcântara

Upon arriving in the newly paved driveway of my home, I noticed a very unfamiliar car parked in our driveway.

As I entered the two story house, it was eerily quiet. Living in a very loud (and Brazilian) home, this was way off the usual norm “Rafa!” I called out.

“In here, amor.” Rafinha replied, his voice sounding as if it was coming from the den.

Quickly making my way towards our carpeted living room, I saw a very relaxed Rafinha sprawled out on the couch. “Who’s car is that out front?” I questioned as I sat on the opposite couch.

“Meet Fredrico, babe.” He laughed as he flipped through the channels until he finally landed on the family favorite. BeIN Deportes.

Sending him a questioning look, I wondered why in the hell would he name a car Fredrico. “Well, not trying to sound misinformed, but why do we have Fredrico?” I asked as I began taking off the Nike’s that adorn my worn out feet.

“Long story short, we lost a bet.” Rafa laughed.

“We?” I laughed looking at him confused.

“Yes, we because we’re a whole so if I lose, you lose as well.” He explained.

“Oh shut the hell up.” I snickered. “Where’s Valentina?”

“She’s in the dining room giving me the silent treatment.” Rafa answered before turning the flatscreen off due to his sudden boredom from watching Juventus versus Empoli.

“What did my husband do now to my princess?” I questioned allowing for an exaggerated groan to escape my lips.

“No, no. It wasn’t me today, she was being very picky when I made her a grilled cheese sandwich.” He explained, shaking his head vigorously. “Follow, follow.” Rafa said as he waved for me to follow him into the next room over.

There sitting at the rectangular dinner table was none other than Valentina Alcântara herself. And in front of her was an untouched, smelly, grilled cheese sandwich.

“She’s sat like that all day and she won’t even touch her food.” Rafinha whispered.

“What’s wrong, mami?” I questioned as I leveled down to her height.

“Look what papa made me.” She scoffed as she passed her plate of grilled cheese.

“Why did you not cut the crust off?” I exclaimed as I noticed the still very intact pieces of crust on the sides of the sandwich.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” He laughed. “She likes pizza crust, what’s the difference?”

“I’m offended,” I said shocked. “There is a huge difference between pizza and bread crust, Rafa, and I’d think you’d know that.”

“Please explain?” Rafa chuckled, taking a seat across from Valentina only to stare at her intently.

“Care to explain, Vala?” I smirked turning to her.

“Thank you mama,” she smiled. “Pizza crust tastes good, bread crust doesn’t. Case closed.”

Staring at his daughter blankly, Rafa didn’t know how to respond. “Wow, very descriptive, Valentina.” Rafa sniggered as he processed his daughters explanation.

“I know right?” Valentina laughed.

“I’ll make you a sandwich, the right way.” I added, turning to entering the kitchen only to stop in my tracks. “About that car, Rafa, you better handle it before I do.”


“Mrs. Alcântara, Ms. Rivera wants to see you in her office.” An intern, Marisol, spoke as she entered my office.

“I’ll be right in.” I dismissed before quickly leaving my office only to make my way towards the famously acclaimed “hell” office.

Walking down the long spiral of stairs, I was curious as to why my supervisor wanted to see me. Just as I entered her spacious and uncanny room, I was greeted almost simultaneously. “Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see.” Ms. Rivera smiled.

“Oh, I hope for good things?” I laughed nervously. The last thing I wanted to do was lose my job.

“No Hun, we just got a call from the International Catalan Primary School, they say Valentina is not cooperating until she speaks to you.” Ms. Rivera explained. “She’s on the phone right now.”

Thinking of the worst, I quickly took the phone from her grasp only to hear the sobs from my eight year old. “Mamas, is everything okay?” I questioned.

“Today is the worst day ever.” Valentina cried.

“What happened, Vala?” I asked wanting to get to the bottom of the situation as quickly as possible.

“Daddy!” She exclaimed. “He’s been doing everything wrong!”

“Like what?” I enquired.

“First he didn’t make it to my ballet recital last week. Then he didn’t remember to cut the crust off my sandwich yesterday and just today, he dropped me off in an ugly, beat down, yellow, car.” Valentina explained.

“Aw, baby.” I cooed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right there and you can explain everything to me.”

After a few ‘I love you’s’ were exchanged, I looked up to catch Ms. Rivera smirking at me. “What?” I laughed.

“You didn’t think I’d let you out of work that easily, now did you.” Crap. I hadn’t thought of work before making my promise to Valentina.

“I was hoping you would.” I smiled, switching from foot-to-foot nervously.

“I’m just playing, go get your daughter, Alcântara.” She laughed. “Don’t expect this everyday, now.”

“I won’t!” I called out before thanking her as I left the now appropriately acclaimed “merciful” room.


As I dialed Rafa’s number numerous times, all of my trials went unanswered and went straight to voice mail. Even texts lingered on the ‘delivered’ option, which irked me to no end.

“I swear, your papa is in thin waters.” I laughed, glancing at Vala as she ate her chicken nuggets and fries. 

I had the rest of the day off and I planned on spending it with my daughter and just as little time scolding my husband. I’d got used to his excuses varying from being tired to too busy when he was caught up at practice. These excuses were specific, valid and always legit, but as the time ticked it began bugging me to no end. 

My daughter had just been in tears explaining my husbands childish actions and now I was left sweeping the mess only to hide it under the-almost-filled rug.

And I would do so no longer. This was now Rafa’s mess to fix and repair. 

“Linda!” I heard the familiar voice of my Rafa sing-song at the front door. 

“Bite me!” I mocked in the same sing-song tone he had just done. 

“What’s wrong?” He laughed as he placed his gym bag by the entrance of the dining room. 

“Why were you not answering your phone?” I questioned, allowing for my voice to raise a bit. “You know it’s my pet peeve.” 

“Sorry, amor, but I was at practice.” Rafinha explained. 

“You always are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He questioned. “Vala, can you please go upstairs real quick, por favor.”   

And just as told, Valentina took the stairs one by one and we only started the conversation back up again at the sound of her door closing. “Ask me why I had to pick up Vala.” 

“Why did you have to pick up Valentina?”p>

“I’ll tell you why; because your an idiot.” I exclaimed, poking my fingers at Rafinha’s chest. 

“How is it my fault? Maybe I’m missing something but I was hard at practice,” Rafa inquired stating his obvious whereabouts. 

“You better take a seat for this one because I’m about to talk your ears off.” I said pointing towards the dining room chairs. 

Just then, I watched as Rafa walked off only to return with two glasses and a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino a friend of mine sent from Italy as a house-warming gift. As he popped the cork of the wine, I began my long awaited spiel. Hint the sarcasm. “I was working in my office when the new intern called me up to Ms. Rivera’s room.” I began, taking a sip from the sour Tuscan wine. “Long story short, Valentina was in the chancellors office because she wasn’t cooperating with the teachers.” 

“Why not?” Rafinha questioned, beginning to draw unknown shapes onto the back of my hand. 

“Because somebody dropped her off in the car I told him not to.” I yelled, throwing all kinds of glares in Rafa’s direction. “I was four, five seconds away from going over to Ciutat Joan Gamper and beating your ugly ass.” 

“And this all happened because of me?” Rafinha questioned in shock. 

“And she said some other stuff,” I added lowly hoping he wouldn’t hear me. 

“Like what?” He questioned eagerly. 

“You’re not gonna like it…” I admitted. 

With a slight whine in his voice, Rafinha looked towards me only to plead with those big ol’ brown eyes of his. “Just tell me.” 

“Remember the ballet recital she swore she didn’t care about you not making?” I asked hoping he would remember the week he left for international duty. 

“How could I not?” He scoffed. Rafinha was really disappointed in himself for not making his daughters first recital. 

“Well turns out she cares, a lot.” 

“I know where this is going.” Rafinha groaned uneasily. “She said some stuff about me not being there?” 

“Basically.” I agreed.

“Valentina!” Rafa called out in hopes of calling Vala back down. 

“Yes papa?” She squealed from the top of the stairs. 

“Come down here, princessa, por favor.” He yelled back, hoping she’d agree and come down the staircase. 

Just as Valentina entered the room, a huge grin spread across Rafinha’s face. “We need to talk.” Rafinha smiled, pointing at her usual seat across from him. 

“Remember everything you told me today, mami?” I spoke, breaking the incredibly tense, incredibly awkward tension in the room. 

“Yup.” She smiled, remembering the eventful day she’d just faced. 

“Well, mama told papi.” I added, looking at Rafa as he sat awkwardly in his seat. 

Staring at me intently, I quickly understood the silent message. It was my time to leave the room and grant Rafa privacy to talk with his daughter. Standing up quickly, I left the dining room, only to crouch at the door to eavesdrop in on their conversation. 

“Okay, Vala you know I love you and that I don’t do things that aren’t always smart.” Rafinha started, I could already a hear the tenseness in his voice. “And I’m really sorry, osito.“ 

“It’s okay papa.” Valentina laughed, probably waving off the subject. 

“And that’s the thing, it’s not okay. I should be here. I should’ve made that recital, I shouldn’t have dropped you off in that car and I definitely need to start spending time with you more often.” Rafa admitted. 

“We could start now?” Vala suggested. 

“We could. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” He added. “You can come out now, Y/N.” Rafa laughed making my presence known. Waling into the room caught red handed, I began to play off the incident. “I think we should give you a dose of your own medicine.” I smirked all for embarrassing my husband.

“Si!” Valentina agreed.

“What do you mean?” He questioned confused on what the disciplinary actions would be.

Smirking whilst rubbing my hands together mischievously, I began explaining what his punishment would be. “I’ll drive you to training with that same car.”

Siting straighter in her chair, Valentina glanced at me before continuing. “For a week!” Vala added.

“Thats a little extreme, no?” Rafa questioned, shaking his head vigorously.

Turning around swiftly, I began to exit the room only to be halted by Rafa’s voice. 

“Fine! Fine!” 

“Deal,” I laughed shaking his hand in a truce. 

Standing from her daddy’s lap, Vala sheepishly waved goodbye to us just as she left the room. “Goodnight mama, goodnight papi.”

“Goodnight, mamas.” I called out just as she left the room.

‘Well, today was dramatic.” Rafa laughed.

“You know you’re sleeping on the couch, right?”


gif credits to piqueque

the guy who’s cost me the most trouble this week…..rafinha!!! hahaha

Porco x Fem!Reader - By Your Side

//Heavy Manga Spoilers//

AN: I had so much fun writing this! Thanks for your super detailed request, and I hope you enjoy the story!

As the train’s wheels came screeching to a halt, a bustling crowd of Eldian soldiers ran towards the gate that separated them from their anxiously awaiting families.

You stood near the front of the massive crowd of relatives, eagerly awaiting the return of your friends. The years had been long and lonely without them, and during those rough times, the only source of comfort you had was in Porco’s words. Night after night you thought about their mission and the horrors they must be facing on that god-forsaken island. You thought of their faces as they left for their mission; faces of both pride and fear. Enthusiasm and worry. Elation and dread. But the thought that haunted you most of all, the one that made you suffer through countless sleepless nights, was still ringing in your mind at this very moment.

What if none of them ever come back?

During nights like that, it wasn’t unusual for you to simply sit in front of the fire with a blanket wrapped around you as you cried. If sleep wouldn’t give you any solace, then there was no point in even attempting it. However no matter how hard you tried to muffle your cries into said blanket, someone would always come in to comfort you. And that someone was Porco.

It was no surprise that he was bitter towards Reiner because of what had happened many years before. Not getting to inherit the power of the titans was a large blow to him, but nonetheless he still valued Reiner enough to want him and the others to return. And he knew more than anyone how much you valued each of them.

Not many words would be exchanged when those nights would happen. You’d just hear that familiar knock on the door, and within seconds he’d be by your side, gently stroking your hair until your worries melted away.

Even at this moment he was trying to gauge your emotions towards the situation. Your face was a mix of anticipation and panic; the moment you would find out if your fears were justified was about to come forth.

With a large creak, the gate opened agonizingly slowly, and out poured the waves of returning soldiers. While the rest of them had simply been off at war, the people you were waiting for had been through worse horrors than anything they could’ve imagined. And the traumatised looks on the cadets’ faces didn’t do much to comfort you, either. You could only hope that the Warriors had been strong enough to make it back sane. Frantically, you peered over the hundreds of heads to try and get a glimpse of your friends, when you saw a tall figure making his way towards you.


Tearing up slightly, you ran towards him at top speed, pushing other civilians away as you did. You stopped right in front of him and looked at his face, your eyes gleaming as you looked up at him for the first time in so many years.

“Reiner! Is it really you? You look so grown up!” you said excitedly.

He smiled weakly and looked down at you. “I could say the same for you, [Name].”

You looked side to side, still searching through the crowds. Your brow furrowed slightly.

“Where’s Bertholdt? And Annie? And Marcel?” you asked.

Reiner simply looked at you solemnly and lowered his head. You knew immediately without him even having to tell you.

“No way…All of them?” You asked, your face now contorting into a similar pained expression.

“I’m sorry, [Name],” he said sadly, his arms outstretching towards you.

You walked towards him and took his embrace. He held you tightly with one arm firmly wrapped around your waist and the other on your head. You both remained there for a few moments, each of you comforting each other in silence, when a voice came from the side-lines.

“As expected of Reiner, always leaving me out,” remarked Porco. “Honestly, why don’t you two just get married at this point?”

The atmosphere of the moment was shattered as your face changed from one of sadness to one of shock and embarrassment. You broke out of your hug and turned to face him angrily. Reiner just smirked lightly and retorted,

“Don’t worry Porco, I know not to get in your way. After all, you’ve only been telling me to keep my hands off her for what…15 years?”

Porco suddenly stopped in his tracks, his mouth slightly open in shock.

“W-What? H-Hey, you can’t just say stuff like that, Reiner…” He stuttered out.

“Oops, I guess I shouldn’t have said that,” said Reiner, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You looked between the both of them with a confused look on your face.

“What? Keep your hands off me? Why would he say that?” you asked.

Reiner continued, his arms crossed in a smug fashion.

“It’s funny that after being gone for a decade, the first thing I do when I get back is annoy Porco. I guess times never change. But still, I’m disappointed. I thought after leaving you guys alone here for so long you’d have eventually told her, Porco.”

Porco’s face had become dusted with pink, and was a picture of disbelief. The more Reiner spoke, the more flustered he became, and the more he wildly shook his hands as if to say “Stop talking!”

“[Name], Porco here has had his eye on you ever since we were kids. It only added fuel to his hate for me when he saw us talking. I still remember the day I confronted him about it and he turned into a flustered mess, kind of like he is now,” Reiner finished.

Your eyes widened as you turned to face him.

“Porco…is this true?” you asked.

“Uh…well…maybe?” he replied, his eyes firmly locked on his shoes.

Suddenly everything made sense. Those nights spent by the fire, his protectiveness of you, the fact that he never left your side…honestly you had no idea how you didn’t realise it before. He had always been by your side through everything.

And you wanted it to stay that way.

“S-so…if it was true, what would you think?” he said cautiously.

You thought for a moment and smiled, and then pulled him in for a hug.

“I’d be delighted.”

join me.

what do I do when you fall in my prison
holding your hand while you paint your face crimson
the blood on our hands will return to the source
seep into your mouth with no taste of remorse
join me with knees bent awaiting direction
adding my torture to your growing collection

I’m used to the feel of cold empty space
and let all my goodness fall out of my face
you’re full until bursting and new to this story
tangled with me in your first fall from glory
how can I help when your pain is my folly
singing aloud, I’m in love with your body

silent the watchman observes the encountered
standing alone with a hat facing downward
joined in the watch by another the same
thrown to the left by steps into the game
how do I hold you, I’m already broken
how do we cope, I have pain left unspoken

- I’d give you my oxygen. If I still had any.


The Crosshairs

Eleventh installment of the Castiel imagine series “At First Sight” (“At First Sight” - “You’re Growing On Me” - “Under His Wing”- “Wandering Thoughts” - “Warrior Of Heaven”-“When You Wake” - “The Ultimatum” - “A First Glimpse” - “A Flared Soul” - “A Final Farewell”). Requested by inzanityasylum! “The next installment could maybe concentrate on the battle between Ansiel and Castiel. Ansiel is dead set on ending the bond between the reader and Castiel. Here’s where there were a bunch of details I completely forgot to add because I am a grade A idiot. Maybe I was of some help?” Hope you like it!

(All past and future installments can be found on the “The Story Continues…” page)

The night was unbearably long. The mechanical ticking of the clock announced minutes like church bells, each second reverberating about within your skull, peeling away your sanity like a corn husk as you awaited the return of the hunting party. They’d been gone far too long. Every minute felt like a century with the knowledge of the dangers they faced, that he faced, bearing down on you like ocean water in a riptide. The air was sticky against your skin, molding around your body like a halo of humid discomfort. Your nails bit into your forearms like fangs, pinching at your muscle in agitation. You moved your arms to cross across your chest, constricting around your rib cage, hoping this simple restriction would aid in the prevention of the gasping hyperventilation you could feel tightening around your lungs like a viper. There was no way to tell if the hunters had been absent for one hour or for four… time, for you, was a vast expanse of heated uncertainty. It felt like days had passed since you saw the last faceted wingtip flit out of view, casting the walls in a deep melancholy light as the feathers grew quiet with distance, the metallic clunk of the bunker’s vault door closing shattering echoes around the library walls. Silence never felt so heavy, so suffocating. Silence never felt more fatal. Your brain was had rewired itself to associate the absence of wingsong with imminent peril; thus, separation, especially knowing Castiel was wandering into battle, was agony.

You were frightened, as any lover would be if their significant other departed for war, your hands trembling as they dug into your flesh, fear seizing your body as you stumbled back and forth, following the length of the elongated library tables. Pacing was never a good sign, but always an excellent copy mechanism. You were ill-informed of the mission, to add to the anxiety, and the outcome uncertain. You were clueless when it came to the location of the hunters, not to mention numbers or the longevity of the hunt or the power Ansiel had backing his obscene claim on your life. You remembered the beast of an angel referring to others in his ragtag army, but exactly how many he possessed… you had absolutely no idea. You were, in every way, blinded, hopelessly powerless as the other half of your soul strutted into what you saw as near-certain death. You wished you had pushed for your place by their sides. Inclusion would have lessened the fear squeezing clumps of your heart through it’s fingers. A weaker grip, you could deal with… not this. At least your inclusion would allow you into the loop, whether it be a noose or not. In your heart, the single sliver that remained to project logic into the mayhem of your current circumstances, you knew that the hunt would have gone sour were you to come along. The term “Achilles heel” barely scratched at the vulnerability you brought to Castiel’s defenses, or he to yours. You would surely perish attempting to shield him from harm, and he you, your lust for self preservation overwhelmed by your desire for Castiel to remain unscathed. You were willing to sacrifice the flow of air through your lips, though staggered now with panic, for the angel’s fragile immortality.

You were locked in the bunker for your own good, that much was true, but you were also hidden away to keep Castiel from jumping in front of too many angel blades. The man had proven his willingness countless times before this night, and the Winchesters weren’t taking any chances on this hunt. The bounty on Ansiel’s head was about as high as the bounty hovering above yours.

In the absence of the angel, your ears were left to reach for the melody you knew you would not hear, that you may never hear again. The hum of the bunker’s prehistoric machinery rattling away in the control room was scorched into the tissues of your brain, a soundtrack you could easily ignore, but the lack of song left you hollow, terror seeping through your calloused skin to fill the abandoned space like murky water, the shell of your body swollen with darkness. This emptiness, this unnatural emptiness… you rarely prayed, given your estranged relationship with a good chunk of the Heavenly Host, but you prayed you wouldn’t have to endure this crippling silence for the rest of your days. The quiet was gnawing away at what little composure you still possessed, your teeth grinding, bone against bone, frustration reaching peak after perilous peak as your fingers moved to trail along the polished surface of the library’s table, your hands quivering like autumn leaves. Quiet, quiet, quiet. It was everything you could hear and nothing tangible. Insanity, this was insanity. You were waiting and waiting for nothing to happen and nothing to appear, waiting for the lights and the colours and the song you could have lost the moment Castiel walked through the bunker’s door. You were waiting, waiting, waiting…

Imagine your surprise when the graceful patter of lazy footsteps broke through the muted air, accompanied not by the relief you had imagined, but by heart-wrenching terror.

Your visitor was travelling without sound.

Your head snapped around to face the dreadful noise, your heart racing wildly before stuttering in your chest, your breath rushing audibly from your lungs, heat leeched from every inch of your skin. The face that met yours was familiar for all the wrong reasons. He grinned, thin lips stretching over a sickeningly amiable smile, his expression reeking of unspoken, inescapable victory. He held his arms wide as if to embrace you, an approach many would find tempting, if not for the blood-slick angel blade he held in his hand, the metal shattering aged artificial light across the walls, spreading the garish red sheen like infectious disease across the plaster. He dipped his head in your direction, an executioner bowing to his soon-to-be victim, tangles of ginger curls shifting at his shoulders, tied in a low knot at the nape of his neck. The texture was close to dreadlocks, but mostly sang of an inability to keep the wild coils from tangling. His posture straightened as his arms descended to his thighs, his fingers immobile on the handle of his blade. There would be no remorse, no hesitation. Those were the hands of a conscienceless killer. Your body reeled backwards reflexively, palms slick with salted sweat on the table’s rim, the angel approaching with practiced ease, the softened leather of his boots whispering against the floorboards.

"How did you-” you began, your voice hushed by the horror pressing your throat closed, eyes targeting the crimson droplets free-falling to the wood at his feet, your stomach roiling like turbulent seas with thoughts of… of… you couldn’t bring your mind to wrap around the endless possibilities, of the ownership of that blood. Whoever bled at the edge of that blade was surely dead. The angel spoke before you could rasp an end to your inquiry, his voice slippery as an oil slick, ringing with an alarming sincerity, bidding you to trust in him, though he held in his hands evidence of his brutality. Like a lion whispering promises of safety to a gazelle, he spoke, his voice washing over the crimes he had committed against you, against Castiel, as if nothing but cordiality had passed between you. A good, old-fashioned facade of kindred intent. Heaven was fond of this role, but you’d seen this show too many times to buy into the false sense of friendliness.

“It was easy enough. You humans were always a simple race. Predictable, thinking yourselves clever enough to evade those whose very existence predates the beginning of your evolution.” He journeyed closer, your feet moving in time with his, slow steps taking you farther from the bunker’s exit, eyes glued to the gleaming liquid adorning the blade. You fought your urge to lock your gaze on his weapon, forcing your eyes upward, meeting the angel’s kindred stare. “Warding is effective in barring entry, yes, but every sigil that is drawn can easily be…” he absentmindedly, or perhaps knowingly, drew the tip of the blade through the air, as if flicking an insect from the end of his sword. You were clearly the insect in this scenario. “… Drawn through. A simple task for a simple subject.” His hands trailed over the books scattered atop the library’s table, fingers ghosting over parchment, leather, and glossy mahogany all the same, his steady steps propelling him forward, his eyes never leaving your face. His knuckles were stark white against the near translucency of his skin, his grip on the blade comfortable. The only sounds polluting the bunker’s interior were the droplets of crimson blood striking the floorboards and the mirrored footsteps that kept the distance between the angel’s blade and your heart. You would give anything for the silence to return. In the light, the angel’s features were unmasked, proving your every nightmare’s vivid imagination false. The portrait you had painted from your limited view the night of your imprisonment fell short of the angel’s beauty. His features were pointed, sharp, his nose slender, cheekbones high, jawline chiseled into a dainty point below genetically gaunt cheeks, his vessel appearing healthy despite the hollow appearance. His brow was weak, but his eyes glimmered in the lamplight, calm victory glinting off irises tinted a pale blue grey. He reached a hand forward, palm extended for you to take, your bodies continuing to move with each other, one away and one toward, a synchronized dance of pursuit and evasiveness. “Come, my brother would very much like to see you,” he whispered, voice barely audible over the screeching in your head. Your hip encountered the end of the table, either from the natural end of your backwards stride or the shock of the thought of Castiel in captivity. He would never call for you by his own accord, not in the presence of such danger. Ansiel’s smile widened to see your obvious distress, though no malice flickered behind his eyes. He reached forward as you turned to run, his hand closing around your wrist, spinning you into his chest, his breath blowing over your cheeks as he stared down into your face. He was even more beautiful in close proximity, his kind, serene face contradicting his hold. He angled his blade to press against your spine, the tip prodding the ridge of bone through your clothing, his shoulders rolling back, the library’s lights fizzling as he unfurled the wings you could not detect, a hand pressing your face into his shoulder before the ground dropped out from beneath your feet, taking your stomach with it.

Within the course of a second, the infuriatingly stagnant silence of the bunker was replaced with the clamor of war, metal shrieking against metal, blades sliding through the air, the familiar hiss and scream of angels leaving their fallen vessels for the final time, white light filtering to blaze across your eyelids despite the shield Ansiel had created by burying your face in the fabric of his jacket. The grunts of the angels swarmed around you, swirling through the air as battle raged, the blade digging into your back securing you to Ansiel’s chest despite your urge to run. Your body was tense, rigid even, your fingers clenching into fists, handfuls of cloth scrunched in your palms, Ansiel’s hand turning your face with unnecessary delicacy to view the battlefield before you. Wasted vessels littered the charcoal-smudged concrete of an abandoned parking garage, blood pooling about each fallen corpse in scarlet puddles, eyes open, seeing nothing. What little remained of both parties were in the throes of battle; Sam was thrashing wildly at an inexperienced duo, his blade penetrating the eye socket of a taller angel while Dean turned from his victory, blade still steaming, to skewer the second member. Your eyes panned over to see the tails of Castiel’s trench coat fluttering as he ducked beneath a violent sweep, your gaze automatically lifting to the wings he had masterfully tucked to his sides, feathers molding to his torso like armour. He was wielding a blade in each hand, swerving to avoid a slash from behind him, feathers silent as the grave. The sight and lack of sound alone could have stopped your heart, seeing the masses of light casting nothing but shadow and the occasional spray of blood where he was nicked, his face twitching to acknowledge the pain of a minor slice, the quills shivering closer to his body to conceal the pinpricks of light poking through where his grace was exposed. The hand on your cheek flew to cover your mouth, arms spinning you so that your back was pressed to Ansiel’s stomach, the blade now held to your abdomen. It would take mere seconds for the angel to plunge the blade into your stomach… but it would take you minutes to die. A quick death was a negative. You would suffer before you left this world. Your hair was tangled against the angel’s chest, strands tugging at your scalp as they were pulled tight. Dean’s eyes flickered upward, locking on your face, his jaw clenching in fear. His voice called Castiel’s name, hoarse with alarm, the angels so dead-set on slaughtering your lover moving to hold him steady in anticipation of a struggle, their arms wrapping around his biceps as his eyes shot to you, wings crying out in a flustered panic. His face was a mask of manic concern, his ocean eyes widened over an open mouth, his lips parted over wordless pleas. Those who had survived the Winchesters’ attacks now held them in their places, their grips on the brothers vice tight. Sam’s face broke in pain, though nothing physical. If looks could kill, every last angel walking this Earth would drop when they looked on Dean… but your eyes were not for the brothers in that moment. Ansiel jerked you around to better view your lover, as if you weren’t already focused on his face, Castiel’s sapphire eyes hiding no emotion, his terror blatantly obvious as he attempted to run towards you, his body writhing against his captors, fury building behind twin oceans of fear. His wings twitched against his skin as your breath hitched in your chest, a tear spilling over your waterline, your vision blurring as your other eye brimmed. The point of Ansiel’s blade pricked at your skin through your layered clothing as the angel further constricted you, his arm bared against your throat. Another round of tears expelled themselves from your eyes, water falling to the shrill sound of Castiel’s wings screaming in protest.

“Brother, let it end,” Ansiel spoke, his voice clear, strengthened by his obvious victory, the air heavy with the odor of metal and salt from the spilled blood on the floor, smoke wafting lazily from the scorched wings on the concrete. Dean struggled against his captor’s hold as the angels forced the blades to the ground, Sam’s voice slinging curses into the echoing silence as the angels swatted his stolen blades from his grasp. Castiel’s hands went slack on their own accord, blades clanging loudly as they struck the floor, each clatter causing you to start, and each start causing the tip of Ansiel’s sword to itch just a hair closer to your skin. Castiel’s wings trembled as he turned his palms to Ansiel, his eyes pleading, his brow pinched in agony. His gaze flitted to your face, your death sentence screaming from behind his gemstones eyes.

Jeff Went Left

If you’re reading this note, I’m sorry. I assume you’re in the same situation as me—that smug bastard drugged you and dumped you in these catacombs, with only a candle to find your way out.

I don’t know how many people he’s done this to, but there have probably been a lot. He wouldn’t spend so much time on it otherwise, would he? He told me the catacombs are a maze, and he’s set traps and deadfalls at every turn. But he promised there’s one safe way out, if I’m lucky enough to guess the correct path.

I’m not lucky. I’m just an art student, here on holiday. There’s no way I’m getting out alive. But I want someone to. I want revenge.

I’m sure you do, too, so let’s help each other. I still have my sketchbook and pencils. Before each turn, I’m going to leave them behind for the next person, writing down which way I went. If I survive to another passageway, I’ll come back and leave a page like this one. If I don’t, then it’s up to the next person to carry on and go the opposite direction.
Eventually, if we keep leaving breadcrumbs, one of us will escape. Get to the police and find that bastard. Do it for those who didn’t make it.
My name is Jeff. I went left here.

Reading the note by candlelight you feel a glimmer of hope, until you realize you’re reading from the sketchbook itself. Jeff never returned to tear out the page, and you’re the first person here since him.
You look to your right, where the dark maze awaits.

Clary-Simon parabatai


Hello Cassie I love all your books and have especially loved TID. My favourite was Jem, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love Tessa or Will. Jem was my favourite because I am somewhat like Jem myself, I am sick as well, and I understood why he did what he did and how he thinks. To read about Jem and the way clockwork princess ends gives me a lot of hope (maybe I will find a cure too) :) I want to thank you for that. I recently finished CoHf and loved every bit of it :) as you can probably guess I loved reading about Jem and Tessa in CoHf :) I do have a question for you: Does Clary ever find a parabatai? Also (2 questions sorry :p) can ascenders have a parabatai? I would love it if you could answer my questions (if you are reading this). I am very excited for TDA and restlessly await its release :) Thank you so much A huge fan of yours M3H4K :) — m3h4k

Hello! Thank you for your love for Jem, I love him too. I think you have a question about TMI a lot of people have. :)

its-carmen-venegas said: CoHF spoiler: I was wondering if in the future we will see Simon Ascend and become a Shadowhunter with his memories returned and/or him as Clary’s parabatai and finally together with Izzy? I love you stories and they have been great to read!!


Hi I really loved COHF and I really just have to know if Clary and Simon are gonna become parabatai?

mortalacademyasked you:

Hi Cassie :) Do you think there is a possibility in the future for Simon and Clary to become parabatai? They would be brilliant for each other, in my own opinion :)

pa1g32019 asked you: Do Simon and Clary become parabatai???

Are Clary and Simon gonna be parabatai when he ascends?? — mejampo

sherlockthedivergentboywholived asked you: SPOILERS FOR CoHF I’ve just had an amazing thought. Would clary and simon become parabatai?? I think that would be the best thing ever and in the wedding scene there are runes all over simon and that would be perfect if they were parabatai.

thefaultinour-fangirling asked you: Any possibility that Simon and Clary could become parabatai??????

mayiaskquy asked you: SPOILER! Did Clary and Simon become parabatai when Simon became a shadowhunter? x


Will Simon and clary become parabati?

spanish-rose said: Hi Cassie! I am asking this for my cousin (she doesn’t have a tumblr) and me. After the events of COHF do Simon and Clary become Parabatai or is it too late? Or does his lack of memories change their relationship? We always saw them having a bond like that, and now that it’s possible, we are super curious! Thank you in advance if you get to our question

lovee1795 said: Did you ever consider making Isabelle and Clary parabatai? I thought you were working towards it in CoHF but then it never happened. I feel they would’ve made a great team.

insult-to-intelligenceasked you:

are we gonna see simon ascend? is gonna continue the lightwood name or is he gonna pick another shadowhunter surname?

demi-herondale asked you: So Magnus mentioned to Simon about the ascension at the end of CoHF. Does Simon ever ascend and become a shadowhunter, or is that supposed to be up to us as readers?

yesihaveredhair asked you: The ending was beautiful, Cassie. I loved every bit of it. And I bawled my eyes out with Simon. I’m just wondering (and I’m thinking this question might be answered in Lady Midnight) if Simon does Ascend? Because that would just be amazing for him :) I’m going to miss these characters, but I’m excited for Emma and Jules! xxx

alyienated said: Cassie, please tell us more details about Simom’s ascension for I think the book didn’t really have details about him undergoing that and description of him being a Shadowhunter. I just know that Magnus helped him out and stuff to prepare him for Ascension. :)

It’s true, the book didn’t have any details about Simon Ascending because the process of going to Shadowhunter Academy/training/learning to become a Shadowhunter is a year-plus process and there was no room for it (plus tonally it would have been weird there at the end of the book.) City of Heavenly Fire ends with hope for Simon and the option of becoming a Shadowhunter, something he’s wanted, something all his friends are. Something he deserves, given how much he’s fought alongside Shadowhunters! But that’s all. You can stop there, if you want — the future of the characters is open with possibilities and you can imagine whatever you want into it, and many people like to do that.

I skipped answering this question publicly before because I was waiting for people to have a chance to read CoHF but now that many have: Simon was always meant to become a Shadowhunter in the end. When I first planned the spin-off Simon story from City of Glass it was about him becoming a Shadowhunter in the end. It was always his endgame.

As many of the characters from TMI show up in places in TDA, I had originally thought we’d find out what happened with Simon’s Ascension then. Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy was originally a series of novellas connected by the existence of the Academy, but it occurred to us as we mapped it out that ideally there would be a character that also connected all the stories — which is how we developed the idea of following Simon through his arrival at the Academy to his Ascension ceremony.

I think the answer to “Will Clary and Simon be parabatai?" is that Clary and Simon would like to be parabatai. Nothing is stopping them except that Simon hasn’t Ascended. If he does it on time, it’s something they could do.

And it’s always been the idea: that Clary and Simon would try to be parabatai. I understanding wanting to see Izzy and Clary be parabatai because they’re good friends and we don’t/haven’t seen a real girl/girl parabatai situation. However, Clary and Izzy just haven’t known each other long enough for it to make sense, while Clary and Simon are basically spiritually parabatai already. 

We will have a girl/girl parabatai situation in Last Hours with Lucie and Cordelia, and an incredibly close friendship between girls with Cristina and Emma in TDA. Part of what’s been interesting about TDA actually is writing the difference between a friendship —Emma and Cristina — and a parabatai relationship —Jules and Emma. 

As for what name Simon chooses, whether he and Izzy can rekindle their relationship, what memories he gets back and which he doesn’t — Shadowhunter Academy and TDA will have to answer that!

Jeff Went Left

If you’re reading this note, I’m sorry. I assume you’re in the same situation as me—that smug bastard drugged you and dumped you in these catacombs, with only a candle to find your way out.

I don’t know how many people he’s done this to, but there have probably been a lot. He wouldn’t spend so much time on it otherwise, would he? He told me the catacombs are a maze, and he’s set traps and deadfalls at every turn. But he promised there’s one safe way out, if I’m lucky enough to guess the correct path.

I’m not lucky. I’m just an art student, here on holiday. There’s no way I’m getting out alive. But I want someone to. I want revenge.

I’m sure you do, too, so let’s help each other. I still have my sketchbook and pencils. Before each turn, I’m going to leave them behind for the next person, writing down which way I went. If I survive to another passageway, I’ll come back and leave a page like this one. If I don’t, then it’s up to the next person to carry on and go the opposite direction.

Eventually, if we keep leaving breadcrumbs, one of us will escape. Get to the police and find that bastard. Do it for those who didn’t make it.

My name is Jeff. I went left here.


Reading the note by candlelight you feel a glimmer of hope, until you realize you’re reading from the sketchbook itself. Jeff never returned to tear out the page, and you’re the first person here since him.

You look to your right, where the dark maze awaits.

The Siren and the Insomniac

Title: The Siren and the Insomniac

Chapter No./One Shot: Chapter 33

Original Imagine: 

Imagine you’re part siren and you live in the Stark Tower. Your bedroom is next door to Loki’s, and you become annoyed with him because he stays up all hours. So after many futile arguments with the god, you use your power through the walls to put him to sleep. When the time comes for you to move out, Loki begs you to stay, claiming he can no longer sleep without you.

Author: Starrynight35

Rating: M

Notes/Warnings: Language, Angst

Thank you for all of the comments and reblogs! Your feedback is always appreciated!
Okay, I know this story has gotten WAY out of hand, but I promise, it will be worth it. A great big thank you to those of you who are still reading! 

Chapter 33

“How are we getting there? If Asgard is under attack, Heimdall has likely closed the Bifrost.”

Loki hoped he was right. He still didn’t want Raidne in the midst of hundreds of angry Frost Giants.

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The Desert Wolf - Part 4

AU where Malia was raised by her mother, The Desert Wolf, and became an assassin.


Malia awoke, confused by her surroundings for the second time that day. She glanced around, noticing a figure standing on the opposite side of metal bars.
“S..Stiles?” Malia whispered, sitting up right.
“Why?” Stiles whispered so low Malia wasn’t sure she heard right.
“Why did you do all of this? Why save us if you wanted to kill us?”
Malia shrunk back at the anger in his voice, guilt washing over her.
“I don’t know.” she whispered, staring at the ground.
“And our kiss? Wa…Was that part of your plan?” Stiles choked out, almost shouting.
“No…Yes…I don’t know.” Malia said, her own voice rising.

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