#can be read as either

[theroseredreaper]

The Sea Calls Me Home

Twisted Wonderland

You are a witch who lives on the beach of a seaside village. You've always done all you could for the people of the village who gave you a home after you washed up on their shores ten years ago. This season should be no different.

Word Count: 5,037 ✯ AO3 Version

Character(s): Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Can Be Read As Platonic or Romantic (it's up to reader interpretation), Mild Horror Elements, Unedited

Inspired by this writing prompt list and my friend Ames's writing.

“I wish to go back. I want to forget everything.”

Cool gray eyes stared back into yours as you fought to keep your focus intact in the smoky haze of the cave you found yourself in. How did you get here, again? The thoughts were languidly coiling in your mind, unable to fully form, teasing you to distraction.

“Can you afford the price of ignorance?”

The sharp command of that voice snapped up your attention back to the present, the dampness of the cave a cool balm on your feverish skin, body shaking from the wild magic choking you. The very air was saturated with it and your body was rejecting it. Your focus lapsed against a tide of nausea that rolled over you. A hand touched your cheek, the brush of fingertips a whisper of relief as your eyes opened again. You couldn’t make out his face anymore in the haze that seemed to thicken the longer you stared in search of his eyes. You had to close your eyes again to hold onto the clarity he had returned to you; your voice cracked against the last dregs of your consciousness.

“I’ve more than paid all that you’ve ever asked of me.”

Townhall was always sweltering whenever you’d enter at the request of the villagers to come in for a meal, a welcome change from the wet cold that clung to every stone and building in the village you’d come to call home ten years ago. Cheers welcomed you as you waved a greeting to everyone, who used the town hall as both the place for hearings and gatherings of meals, a communal space where everyone endured against the storms that plagued this seaside village year round.

“Come, sit!”

“Take this coat, warm yourself, dear!”

“You’ve yet to eat, haven’t you? Here, take your portion!”

Laughing and exchanging greetings with the faces you’d come to know these past ten years, you sat among them, the bowl of oats and eggs warming your frigid fingers as their boisterous chatter warmed your heart. Resources in this village were always short, the land poorly suited to farming, while the mercurial shores made the primary way of life - fishing - difficult to maintain. Despite all this, the people of this village were always joyous. They did not shy from their hard life, they always shared as if they were as rich as the people of the plains. Among the round, smiling faces, it was easy to take note of the utter lack of children. Given that winter had begun to grip the village, it was not usual for the children to begin staying at home, yet there were no children present at all.

“How’re the children?” you asked the man next to you, who looked up at you with a smile sweetened with indolence.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “You need not worry about them, witch. Your miracle cures always work.”

“You’ve not done us wrong yet,” his wife, on his other side, giggled. They were just as the day you’d met them, bronzed by a life of fishing, hair grayed by hard labor. Their children came to them late in life, but they always were industrious, eager to help their parents.

“The potion hasn’t taken yet?”

If this was true, then it would be quite worrying indeed. It’d already been a week and a half since you made it for them, assured of its efficacy. You were no doctor, not by any means, but you knew the way of the land and sea enough to ask of nature how to spell together ways of healing to aid the body back to health. But the villagers tittered at you to not concern yourself.

“Please, you know how easy I worry over all of you. You all took me in when I washed up on your shore, gave me a home when I had none. I won’t be able to relax until I know how the children are doing. I don’t want to see any of them die.”

They hushed you quickly.

“Don’t speak such ill omens!” the fisherman’s wife's sweet voice squealed with humor. “We’ve endured no hardship since you came to our shores, don’t jinx it, dear witch!”

The other villagers laughed in agreement. Your lips pursed, your bowl of food cold and unappetizing now. Their positive outlook despite their dreary livelihoods endeared you most days, but when it came to serious issues like this, it truly irked you. Whenever they needed your help, they had become more trusting in your ability to seemingly wipe away all worries with a sweep of your hand over the years, to the point where you seemed to sit apart from them.

“My spellwork is only what any human can ask of the land and sea. I’m no fae or spirit. Please, won’t you tell me if the potion has taken?” But the crowd only laughed off your concerns, at ease and indolent from the warmth of the hearth and meal before them, assured that your potion would work just like every miracle you’d brought them before. You’d get no answer on the health of the children of the village from them.

Sighing, you took your leave to the raucous farewells of the villagers, a sharp shout of a brawl breaking out over your leftovers as you stepped back into the wet chill of the morning air. It gladdened you that even with the scarcity that winter would surely bring and the disease that was coming for each child, that the villagers were plump and without want for good clothes or good food. Still…the lack of concern grated at you. Of course, you’d never know their inner thoughts. Perhaps it was their way of hiding their stress and woes. But you wouldn’t be truly able to know how the children were doing unless you could see it for yourself.

You’d be unable to enter any homes to investigate without express invitation - it was only polite, after all - so you’d have to seek out the only people in this village who were always honest with you about the state of things. They’d come to this village at the same time as you, but had remained aloof from the rest of the village, which suited the other villagers just fine.

Petrichor and rotting sea gross stung at your nose as you followed the road from the town hall to the fringes of the village along the far side of the rocky cliffs that face the sea, over the cave system that snaked underneath the whole of the neighborhood. The wind coming in from the sea whipped and nipped at you, turning your fingers numb with cold even as you shoved them into the threadbare coat you’d been given that morning. It was hard to make out their forms against the near constant gloom of the gray sky and pale sunlight, but the twins who’d come to regard you fondly were fishing off the edge of the cliff, as they usually were every morning.

“Oh? I was wondering when you’d visit,” one twin grinned while the other jumped up to greet you, his fishing pole abandoned, “Shrimpy, you came by!”

You waved with a smile as you approached, unphased as Floyd ran over to scoop you up into a bruising hug, “Hello Jade, Floyd. How’s the catch this morning?”

“The same as always,” Jade dismissed, setting aside his things to pick up Floyd’s abandoned pole and tackle. “What questions do you have for us today?”

Floyd pouted, squishing your face against his chest as you limply let him hug you. It was usually best to just let him out of his system first. “Shrimpy could’ve visited us just to see us, Jade.”

“I actually did have questions,” you interjected quickly, wary of one of Floyd’s mood swings. “But we can have dinner together today, Floyd.”

He sulked, but put you down, somewhat mollified. “You’re worried about the guppies of the village, aren’t you?”

“You’ve always had a bleeding heart,” Jade mused, shaking his head. “Your potion hasn’t taken, it seems.”

You shrugged. “The villagers seem to think that I’m something of a miracle worker now.”

“They’d be worshiping Azul instead if they knew how much you went to him for his cures,” Floyd laughed, only to be cut off by Jade harshly elbowing him in the rib. “Sorry, Shrimpy. I know you just ask him to teach you stuff. Still, it’s weird.”

“Indeed. Azul is knowledgeable; it is odd that the potion hasn’t taken. There’s yet to be an ailment he doesn’t know a cure for yet.”

You swallowed down another sigh.

Azul the sea witch…

He was an enigmatic mer of the sea who’d been introduced to you by the twins one fateful night ten years ago, during your first winter in this village.

Once a deal was struck with him…

It was difficult to not seek out another one from him.

“Will you just tell me how the children are doing? Have any died?”

They shook their heads, relieving some of the tension from your shoulders. A roll of thunder had the three of you looking to the sky, which had begun to darken.

“They’re the same as when you first saw them,” Floyd turned to you with a frown, his golden eye seemingly to glow in the dimming day.

“None have been taken yet. Your potion has halted whatever haunts them. But it has not cured them,” Jade continued, his golden eye flaring brighter than Floyd’s.

You nodded, used to their matter of fact answers. You’d learned not to ask how they got these answers without ever leaving their hut ten years ago.

“He’ll arrive soon,” they said as one.

It was your cue to leave the way you’d come, following the cliffs down to the beach you had come to call home.

The horizon promised a storm the likes of which would continue to swallow the sky whole and flood the tide caves that were under the cliffs of the coast. The beach was always a disgusting thing to behold on the eve of a storm. Bleached coral, jagged and sharp, would dot the shoreline like spit-up bones, the rust of sediment thrown up by the tide always stained the sand like blood. Here, between the advent of a storm and the rejection of the sea, was the best time to harvest materials from the sea for spells and magic.

It was also the only time one would be able to exchange with the sea witch when he came to shore.

Despite having dealt with him since you’d arrived on this same shore ten years ago, shipwrecked and with no memory save your name and how to bargain a spell from the spoils of the sea and land, Azul was as unchanged as the ebb and flow of the tide itself. His skin was ashen, his tentacles a writhing mass that spoke of the abyssal depths he usually resided in, his hair neatly coiffed despite the waters he rose out of to offer his bargains.

“How quick you are to sell yourself for those who would sell you for half a loaf of bread,” he sighed in lieu of a greeting, towering over you as his tentacles pushed him up from the sea before he stepped down in front of you one human foot at a time, into the form of the bespectacled gentleman he always took when coming ashore. “Have you not heard of the tale of the fool who gave and gave until nothing of him was left? It’s been less than a week since you asked me to check over your potion.”

“You’re so cynical, yet you never decline a deal with me. Hypocrite, much?”

He scoffed, shaking his head at you. “It’s natural for a business man to weigh his risks against his potential profit. If you’re not in good condition, how am I to exact a price from you?”

You giggled as he walked away, already familiar with the path up the beach to the cottage the villagers had given you on the outskirts of the village proper. Despite the threat of the sea swallowing the ramshackle thing whole with the frequent storms that plagued the village, never once had it ever occurred to you to move residence, despite a certain sea witch’s snide remarks over the years. You would be loath to be away from the sea, and there was no home that could possibly be closer to the sea than your cottage upon the beach.

“So? What is the issue plaguing your helpless villagers this time? A charm for their nets for the season? A spell for the hearths to catch flame against damp wood? Grain for the winter?”

He looked about the single room of your home impatiently as he asked, scowling at the empty fireplace in the kitchen. It had gone out when you’d left that morning, the old window liable to drafts. The lumber in it caught fire with a single glare from him before he sat at the sad excuse of a dining table, nodding in satisfaction. You hid your smile behind the busyness of preparing tea for him, though it was really nothing more than some mint leaves and honey in tepid water.

“Medicine this time, actually. The potion I’d ask for your consultation on was for -”

“The villagers, I know,” he interrupted. “I’d gathered as much. It’s always for others, never for yourself, with you.”

You laughed, serving him the ‘tea.’ He took a long draw of it, setting it down with a huff, eyes lingering on every chip and fracture line of the cup. They mended themselves with a quiet slosh of liquid.

“The children have caught something that the potion isn’t helping. Floyd and Jade said that it’s halted whatever it is, but…it seems the children are in a stasis or sorts, it seems. None have died, thankfully. And I would like to keep it that way.”

He nodded slowly, summoning a style of fish bone as you brought out the paper you kept specifically for the deals you made with Azul. “Yes, let’s. I’ve no love for those villagers you care for so much, but the children hold no blame here. Describe the illness to me. Then we’ll see if I can grant what you ask of me.”

So you did, listing the symptoms as they had appeared nearly a month ago now.

Each symptom appeared three days apart.

The first sign was a loss of the legs. Useless and weak, the child would become bound to their bed.

The second sign was a hallowing of the body, until the child was little more than skin and bones. They lost weight and muscle mass in a matter of hours, despite no fluids being expelled from the body, in spite of any meals or medicines given to the child.

That was when you’d begun brewing your potion to give to the children, having dealt with a similar such plague harming the village some winters before, though the rapidity of the symptoms were starkly different from what had happened in the past.

Then three days later, the day you’d been able to administer the potion after consulting Azul on the efficacy of your potion, came the latest symptom in the children you were too slow to reach.

A loss of vivacity, a stillness of the chest and breath, eyes utterly dim and vacant; as if the child had drowned. Dead in all but reality.

Azul’s stylus paused from his note taking as you described the latest of the symptoms, inks pooling onto the paper and blotting out his neat, looping script.

“The price of this is too high for you to pay.”

You didn’t blink an eye.

“You know this disease.”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand of Azul to honor your ten years of bargains to answer you.

The fire in the hearth flared bright and wide, stray sparks freckling your cheeks, kissing them with sharp burns. You sat unmoved. The fire shrunk back when Azul noticed the ash that fell from your skin.

“I’m not teaching you the cure for it. Wash yourself of this situation.”

“What happened to the innocence of the children? I can take the cost of you healing them in my stead.”

The fire roared long enough for the edge of your window curtain to catch flame before it snuffed itself abruptly with a hiss, in time with Azul pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“You cannot afford even that,” he hissed out from behind clenched teeth. “Must I spell it out for you? What a cost this high even means? This disease is inhuman. It is dark. Do not involve yourself in it.”

“Can’t I? You’re clever about your loopholes, Azul. Won’t you make one for me?”

He glared, standing and flicking away the stylus with a wave of his hand, the thing disappearing back to where it came in a cloud of ash, right along with the paper he’d been taking notes on.

“I’m not making this deal with you.”

Your brow twitched. “What? What do you mean you won’t? The children - “

He looked down at you, sighing out your name almost apologetically, the command effective immediately as you found yourself shackled to your chair indignantly.

“Azul!”

“Hush.” Your mouth clamped shut and you squealed your ire at him as he looked at you with pity. “You really are a bleeding heart. Know that I take no joy in the harm of children; I am an opportunist, not a monster. I will not make this deal with you. Nor will you make such a deal with any other. You will leave the humans be. If the children are not well another week from now...then I will come to shore for you. But you will leave the humans be.”

You’d be struggling in your seat against his command, but his order shocked you into stilled silence. After these ten years of knowing you, never once had he ever used your name against you like, not once, and now he used it against you in the cruelest way you could have ever imagined.

“Too sweet, you are,” he murmured, hardly able to meet your betrayed gaze. He glanced at the hearth, the flames gently leaping to life again, before turning to the door and stepping out with a look back. In a flash of lightning, he was gone, back into the sea from whence he came.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The next seven days consisted of your anxious pacing along the shoreline, unable to enter the village proper, or even trek up the coastline to visit the twins and ask after the health of the children. You knew none of the villagers would come to see you, none of them ever entered your little beach, not once these past ten years. You wouldn’t be able to ask them anything because of Azul anyways, but it still disheartened you that no one even looked your way as you paced the shore, alternating between cursing at the sea and busying yourself with collecting the things that washed up on shore for spells that you could sell. You supposed it was just business as usual, for the villagers to not even check up on you, since you would disappear into your home for days at a time to work on the magic you used to help them each season.

The anxiety over the fate of the children was getting to you.

The minute Azul’s command lost hold on you on the dawn of the eighth day, you all but sprinted into town, anxiety practically choking you as you asked each villager how their children were fairing. Again, as they had the week before, they’d laughed and waved off your worries. Each villager you asked, the same lack of concern. Until you reached Ms. Spade, the widower who always made sure you had your own supply of grain and linens each winter before she went to visit her mother in the mainland with her son Deuce for the season.

She called out your name in relief upon seeing you, grasping your hands with such a grip that your joints ached. “I haven’t seen you in days! What happened?”

“I wasn’t able to leave my home,” you grimaced, “How is Deuce? Is he still okay?”

Ms. Spade’s sober expression was all the answer you needed.

“We were sure it wasn’t contagious, helping the Clovers care for their youngest alongside Trey, but three days ago, both Trey and Deuce lost the use of their legs. It won’t be long now before both of them…”

You squeezed her hands in turn as her voice cracked before reaching into your pockets to produce more of the potion you’d made before, pushing them into your hands. “This is what I gave the other children. It didn’t cure the other children, but it did halt the symptoms.”

She pulled you into a brief, fierce hug before bolting off in the direction of the Clover household, her speed enough to rival her own son. Exhaling slowly to calm your racing heart, you observed the village to gauge the moods of the people around you. The majority of the villagers were indolent and smiling, but after speaking with Ms. Spade, you began to notice the wary faces of some haunting the shadows of their doorways, looking on in contempt and weary compliance.

Thunder rolled in the distance.

“You’re back in town. I thought Azul would have commanded your banishment to be longer.”

You whirled around to find Jade carrying a cooler of his morning’s catch, observing you and your nerves. Floyd was nowhere to be seen, as was to be expected. He did not enter the village proper if he could help it, always preferring to be by the sea, much like you.

“The children.”

“Still in stasis,” he reassured, pausing as his gold eye flared briefly in a glow. Something about its glow nagged at a memory that would not catch in your mind. “None have died. More have fallen ill, though. It will not be long before all of them are affected.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, Jade’s arm shooting out to steady you as you wobbled at the news, a hot wash of anger towards Azul blinding you.

“Is the storm close enough for me to see him?” you managed to spit out, clinging to his arm as he steadied you. His concerned silence had you looking up at him, eyes narrowing. “You and Floyd know more about this disease than you let on.”

“Not anymore than you did, until Azul told us. It was after he’d visited you.”

You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him in until you were nose to nose, your voice rough with rage, “Tell me. Tell me all of it, Jade. I’m not some child, too naive to know about the consequences of dealing in spellwork! Why the footing around the issue the minute this disease is discussed? What is happening to the children?!”

He remained calm, shifting his arm to below your waist to hoist you up into a carry, hushing your indignant shriek with a whisper of your name to command your silence. The second time in ten years that they’d dare to use your name against you.

“You’re bringing unwanted attention to us. Come, we’ll go see Azul. I’ll explain as we walk.”

You were forced to sit in his arms in silence as he carried you through the village, the curious gazes of the villagers sliding off the two of you like water as their eyes glazed over and something else caught their attention. You squeezed his shoulder with your nails as hard as you could, irritated when he hardly spared you a glance.

“At first, Floyd and I thought it was like that illness you prepared for five years ago. That was why we fished for the memory of that potion you made at the time and helped you gather the ingredients for your potions. But then Azul came to us after he confined you to your home with the symptoms you’d described to him. You hadn’t told us nearly half of what you’d told him. Floyd was quite cross with you.”

You winced, aware that Jade was cross with you as well, even if he left it unspoken. He continued on, just as matter of factly.

“As Azul told you, the disease is inhuman. To be more precise, it is a dark, forbidden magic. It is drenched in the work of fae dealings.”

He glanced up at you, making eye contact.

“Unlike Azul, the fae deals in the way of an exact, equivalent exchange.”

He looked forward again, taking care as he steps onto the beach, so as to not drop you on the uneven terrain.

His command on you had lost its hold, but you were too tremulous to open your mouth. Azul was already waiting at the shoreline, in his human form, the tide creating a semi-circle around him as it ebbed in and out.

“The children are wasting because they are being traded for - “

You slapped a hand over Jade’s mouth, unable to hear the rest. He was unbothered, setting you down. Your knees gave up, but he kept his arm around you to hold you up.

Azul approached with sigh, taking you from Jade’s hold to support you himself.

“The children have not improved on their own, I take it?”

You could barely manage a shake of your head, a cold nausea rising up within you. Azul’s hand rubbing up and down your back slowly, soothingly, kept your focus in the moment.

“These humans are why I didn’t want you to leave home,” he sighed, easing you down to the sand so that you could sit together. Jade walked off in your peripheral vision, but your focus was on Azul and his words. He hesitated for a moment, removing his glasses and looking down at them for a moment, before looking up at you. “I am…sure you noticed that the humans of this village have always been the chipper sort, despite the harshness of the land they live on. It’s what drew you to them, after all.”

You nodded slowly, fighting against the urge to close your eyes and cover your ears.

“Have you not wondered why that is? Why their life is so plentiful, when their land does not take seed, when their shores are wracked by storms so often that their one means of sustenance is not sustenance enough?”

He paused, waiting for a response, then continued on while you remained silent.

“Did you not wonder why they were so eager to welcome you and give you a home out of the abandoned shack on the beach when you offered magic in exchange for nothing but a hot meal?”

You shut your eyes, refusing to open them even as his hands cupped your face and his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

“You’ve always been a bleeding heart,” he sighed, pulling away. The air grew damp, and it was becoming hard for you to breathe as the magic in the air began to concentrate.

When had the two of you moved from the beach? Where had Jade gone?

“Do you still wish to save the children?”

You opened your eyes to meet his, swaying as your brain fought against what he was telling you, what he was asking of you. You were beginning to gag on the magic in the air.

“I wish to go back. I want to forget everything.”

Cool gray eyes stared back into yours as you fought to keep your focus intact in the smoky haze of the cave you found yourself in. How did you get here, again? The thoughts were languidly coiling in your mind, unable to fully form, teasing you to distraction.

“Can you afford the price of ignorance?”

The sharp command of that voice snapped up your attention back to the present, the dampness of the cave a cool balm on your feverish skin, body shaking from the wild magic choking you. The very air was saturated with it and your body was rejecting it. Your focus lapsed against a tide of nausea that rolled over you. A hand touched your cheek, the brush of fingertips a whisper of relief as your eyes opened again. You couldn’t make out his face anymore in the haze that seemed to thicken the longer you stared in search of his eyes. You had to close your eyes again to hold onto the clarity he had returned to you; your voice cracked against the last dregs of your consciousness.

“I’ve more than paid all that you’ve ever asked of me.”

Azul caught you, cradling you to his chest. He sighed, stroking the top of your head with a frown. You were haggard and drained, your human form ill-suited to take in the untamed magic of the cave he’d brought the two of you to, away from the beach where villagers lingered at the edges, unable to actually enter the cursed beach themselves. He traced gentle touches down your face, your shoulders, your arms, undoing the spells he’d layered upon you ten years ago when he’d delivered you to the shores of this village.

The one deal he’d regretted in the past ten years.

He kept watch over you until your breathing eased and your body adjusted to the magic saturating in the cave, laying you down in the pool of water that’d begun to grow as the tide came into the cave.

Your true form was just as breathtaking as the last he’d seen it, before you’d left home to come onto land, to be with these humans you loved so much.

“To think I’d ever break my rule to never negotiate with the fae,” he murmured, taking in your peaceful, sleeping face.

He hated humans, yes. They made it so easy to prey upon their greed. He truly did not understand what you saw in them.

But he was still no monster.

Likes and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated! If you have any questions about this story and the elements that were left open ended and up to interpretation, please feel free to send me an ask!

[torveiglyart]

I had this idea that there was some sort of ball/party/celebration that the team had to go to and Allura, being the leader, was offered to lead the first dance. Nervous to choose a paladin, Lance steps up, winks with a “trust me”, and off they go. Can be Allurance but doesn’t have to be. All I know is Jeremy Shada said Lance can dance so… WIP here y’a go.

[xxrandom-rabbitxx]

🗣 HAWTNUGGIT SUPREMACY

But yeah chikn deserves love after all the episodes he isn't included with his friends :( and latest episode didn't had Hawt saus SO DOES THIS MEAN HAWT SAUS IS GONNA SAVE CHIKN FROM HIS JOKER ARC!!! THE EXCLUSION OF HAWT SAUS AND HIS REDEMPTION ARC IS FEEDING MY SHIPPING BRAINS BRAIN ROT (don't mind the miss spellings

[brainrotpot]

A DAY WITH FREMINET

"You see, the rainbow rose grow in abundance here, and around the Opera Epiclese, at least according to Lyney. Sorry, I'm better with under water stuff..."

You and Freminet had decided while Lyney and Lynette were off on a mission, you guys would go enjoy some nature while you two had the chance. It led you to a field northwest of the Court of Fontaine, you and him chatting and laughing along the way.

"It's okay, Fremmie! You know I don't mind! Speaking of when are we going diving together?" you smiled at him, while he gazed at you.

You weren't sure what kind of gaze it was.

"I'm not sure... maybe next time we hang out I can show you around my secret spots?" Freminet spoke softly and very quietly, like he was trying to hide a secret. He had this pale dusting of blush on his cheeks, and you were unsure if he was nervous? Embarrassed? You weren't sure exactly, but it was okay with you. You understood he was a very shy person.

"That's fine with me. Hey, look over there!" you pointed towards a huge patch of blue flowers, with some rainbow roses nearby. You smile brightly, before turning towards Freminet.

"Wanna go lay in those flowers over there? They look soft."

He widened his eyes slightly, before glancing away for a moment. "O-oh," his face scrunches slightly, before relaxing once again, "uhh.. sure."

Satisfied with his answer, you grab his wrist and gently pull him over before plopping down and laying back, beginning and afternoon of cloud gazing.

"Hey, that one looks like Pers, doesn't it?" You point to the left of you guys, Freminet taking a moment to look at where you pointed. He hadn't joined you in laying down, opting to sit up instead.

"Oh, you're right. It does look like him," he said, a soft smile painting his rosy cheeks.

You spent the afternoon chatting about things and pointing out various clouds, meanwhile while you weren't watching him Freminet was busy with the nearby flowers.

"Hey, [y/n], I made you something."

"What? What is it?" You sit up before looking at him, and he holds out his gift: a beautifully crafted flower crown. You can tell he worked carefully on it, each knot arranged in a specific way to strengthen the structure while also matching its aesthetic.

"Oh my goodness, Fremmie! It's so pretty!! Thank you so much!!!!" You go to grab the crown before he shoos your hands away, instead gesturing for you to lean your head towards him, you obliging him. He very gently placed the crown on your head, carefully adjusting it so the flowers perfectly match and frame your face.

After a moment, he gives a small satisfied smile before lifting your chin back up. You watch his glance flickered between your crown and face several times, a focused look staring at you before it softens. "There you go, now it's straight and even on your head. If you did it you would've made it lopsided."

His deadpan tone gives you some giggles, and he stares confusedly at you as you giggled. You smile at him, and thank him. He looks forward, and you ask him about his stories you know he works on. As he talks, you quietly pick flowers and carefully arranged them into a bouquet to give to him when you two got ready to leave.

"Hey, I have a gift for you too!"

"Huh?"

You offer the bouquet to him, and you watch in glee as his eyes light up, a real geniune smile appearing across his features.

"Oh... thank you! These are so pretty. I'm glad we got the chance to hang out today, [y/n]."

"Of course, Freminet!! Thank you for today, but I need to get going back to home."

"Me too.. otherwise Father and the others will get worried. See you later, [y/n]."

You two begin to part ways, you ahead of Freminet. As you head off, Freminet watches in the distance, smiling to himself as he's happy he has at least one true friend.

[youreacow-boylikeme]

reblog with lyrics that make you think of your first heartbreak and/or love in the tags

[spaceumbredoggos]

Ford can’t seem to get Kenz to put the cool bug down.

[paralive-shitposts]

I think Allen would be like that with other bae members (and Kanata)

[ca11istee]

🤫🧟

“Nova, can we ghost now?” Johnny asked impatiently. Ignoring him, V flicked the photo into a message to Dakota as she turned around and started back for her Colby.

“Yeah. Should stop and pick up dinner on our way back into the city. Whaddya want?” V asked, barely glancing up from her holo as she sent the message.

Johnny didn’t answer because his full attention was on the new notification her Kiroshi mod had just delivered, complete with a cheery shower of multi-colored confetti sparkles.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED:

MET THE PERSON WHO WILL KILL YOU 20XP

[joah-shipper]

I’ll Hold Your Hand

The Next Step | Eldon x Nick Hurt/Comfort

~~~

Eldon is sat in the studio’s office, finishing off on some paperwork. After the day he has had, he just need something to get his mind away for a few hours.

The past few months since his break-up with Thalia have been difficult enough, but he thought he was doing good at hiding his distress. Now with the news all out in the open though, he wonders how he even managed. Barely a minute has gone by this day without him crying.

With everything else tuned out, he doesn’t even notice the studio-head walking in until he speaks up.

‘Oh, hello Eldon. Didn’t know you were still here. Thought you would’ve gone home by now.’ Nick says from where he stands in the doorway.

‘Yeah, just thought I’d get these papers finished, as-well and go over the choreography for Anthony and Adele’s duet again. Internationals is coming up soon and everything, so…yeah…’ He shrugs.

The British man still stands by the door, watching his friend. He is unsure how to broach this. After getting back from his workshop from Absolute Dance, it didn’t take long for him to receive the news about what went down that day.

It’s obviously a touchy subject. However, Eldon is his friend and he wants to help.

‘I um…heard about what happened earlier.’

That stops the former a-trouper, pen cutting at the side of the page, now seeming even more lost in thought.

‘I’m sorry about what happened with Thalia.’ Nick continues as he takes a seat on the desk. ‘I know it can’t have been easy. Moxxie and I splitting up was difficult enough and we were only dating for a few months’

No new words escape Eldon. All his attempts just choke him, unable to escape and only making his adam’s-apple bob. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Nick.

Leaning over, he rests a hand on the one the contemporary dancer holds his pen. The other man doesn’t pull away, instead dropping the piece of stationery.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘I’m not sure where I’d even start.’ Eldon sighs.

‘Try me.’

‘Okay then….’ Holding his hand in-front of his face, he lets a breath out into them. Then he starts. It’s a bit terrifying letting this all out, but maybe it can help.

‘It’s just, we’d been together for so long. Heck, we even got together on our own run—up to Internationals, 5 years ago! After being through a couple relationships that ended really badly before that, I thought Thalia was finally the one.’

The older man gives his hand a squeeze during this pause, pushing Eldon to continue.

‘We spent that entire year working to get together and it all felt worth it in the end. She felt like another half of me, someone that shared all my strange quirks, even if others found them weird. We worked so well together that we even began running our own studio!’

At this point, it is when his eyes wash over with water. His tongue flicks around his mouth, his saliva making noise. If Nick wasn’t there, he’s not sure how he’d be able to go on.

‘But…maybe I was too naive, we were only 17 and 18 when we got together and everyone knows teenage romance doesn’t last. When we finally grew up everything felt different, the honeymoon stage was over and both of us were filled with so much stress from work and now just being adults. There was no room for all the dates and moments we shared as teenagers and…’

He takes in a gulp. ‘We just kind of faded away from each-other.

By now he is sobbing. Nick feels like doing so too. From hearing Thalia and Eldon’s whole story, and just by seeing someone you care about hurting like this, it’s almost too much to bare. His arms wrap around Eldon without a second thought, pulling his face to his chest. He doesn’t care that the tears are sure to ruin his shirt.)

‘I’m not going to pretend that everything is going to magically be alright. Because it isn’t. Breakups always hurt, especially the long ones. You’re allowed to feel like this. Nobody is going to be mad at you for it. We’re all your friends and we understand you’re hurting.’

Eldon gasps out: ‘But, how am I ever going to get over it? I’m supposed to me helping the team, I’m supposed to be helping 𝐲𝐨𝐮! But, here I am crying like a baby instead!

‘Oh Eldon, you’ve already helped me more than enough. I wouldn’t be able to run this place at all right now if I didn’t have you with me. You’ve done so much for me, and as your friend, it’s my time to return the favour. I’ve got you okay?’ Nick breaths. His voice is so gentle, filled with so much love and care that it almost makes Eldon want to cry even harder.

His friend is now sat in his lap, arms around Eldon’s neck, but neither mention it. If anything, Eldon finds it comforting. He isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t want to stop any of this.

‘Okay, thanks Nick, for being here.’

‘I always will be.’

Both men smile at each-other, tears drying on the younger’s, in a still silence under the moonlight of the office.

[coddda]

I wish we could have met in some other way.

Lawlight Week Day 2: Soulmates

If you saw me repost and re-edit this several times uh No you didn't </3

Still frames/Individual gifs:

If you know what every frame is from you get a free cookie. by the way

[felixcosm]

I think it's mean how some people talk about fics on AO3.

'Oh you gotta wade through literal trash to find the good stuff'.

Were you not a beginner once? Did you not write crack fic or self indulgent things for your own entertainment?

Maybe don't speak that way about your fellow fic writers? Just because some fics aren't as polished as others, or involve fetishes and tropes you don't enjoy, or are not the style you want your fics to be doesn't mean they're trash.

It's a horrible thing to say and beginners are going to be discouraged from writing knowing that their fics might be considered trash because they're just starting out.

[petite-phthora]

Dp x Dc prompt #1

Danny doesn’t know how Vlad managed to convince his parents to let him take Danny with him to some fancy gala in Gotham, but he does know he’s gonna be the biggest menace he can be to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

The moment they entered the place the gala was held, Danny’s eyes landed on the chandelier on the ceiling in de middle of the room.

Bingo.

What Danny had been expecting was something along the lines of him embarrassing Vlad, making Vlad angry, and/or getting kicked out when the chandelier inevitably crashed to the ground cause they weren’t made to hold his weight.

What Danny hadn’t been expecting was for the chandelier to be heavily reinforced and not move an inch when he hung on there upside down, nor had he expected to be joined up there by a guy his age that seemed to be bursting with excitement as he stared at Danny from his place upside down on the chandelier.

[oh-gh0st]

i heart these rivals so much. maybe they'll kill each other. maybe they'll kiss. maybe they'll make ou

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[ltorekdraws]

tiny little thing that i got inspired for. probably gonna make a print of this

sometimes family is a traumatized man, traumatized man, traumatized little girl and her bunch of pigeons

[solarmorrigan]

Silly idea I talked about ages ago with @azure7539arts, inspired by a similar event my workplace hosts every year. Would minors be allowed to participate in such an event? Probably not! But then again, it was the 80s, who can say for sure. Anyway, it's my birthday and I'll post nonsense if I want to <3

-

“I need you to buy me.”

Eddie looks up from his notebook, effectively jarred from his campaign-plotting fugue state by Steve’s declaration.

Steve is standing at the other end of the dining table, staring at him expectantly.

“Y’know, this is the part where someone usually follows up their completely bonkers demand with an explanation,” Eddie says slowly.

“At the charity auction,” Steve clarifies. “I need you to bid on me, and I need you to win.”

Ah, yes, that weird Rent-an-Athlete charity auction the school runs every year; anyone on any Hawkins High sports team could volunteer to be “auctioned” off in order to raise money for said sports team, to spend a day at the beck and call of the highest bidder (within reason, supposedly). It’s generally restricted to students, but occasionally, prominent alumni are invited to participate – and Steve certainly fits the bill, especially after the story the government spun about his heroism in the face of “serial killer” Henry Creel last spring.

“And what, deny all those pretty girls a chance to get at you?” Eddie asks drily (he’d never turned up at previous auctions himself, but you could hardly avoid gossip in a school their size; it had usually been some cheerleader bidding with daddy’s money who won a date– that is, a day with Steve Harrington).

“It wasn’t always a girl who won,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest. “One time it was Mrs. Dalton – you know, the lady on the school board who lives on my block? I just spent the day doing yard work for her. She gave me lemonade. That was pretty cool.”

“Right,” Eddie drawls. “And I’m sure she definitely didn’t sit outside and stare at your ass while you were working.”

“She did not– she– I mean she was on the porch, but, like– she wouldn’t have– she’s, like, seventy, Eddie,” Steve splutters, and it’s all Eddie can do not to laugh.

“Older gals have needs, too, Steve,” Eddie says, giving in to a smirk. “So she was checking you out from the porch, huh?”

Steve goes red. “Shut up, that isn’t the point. I’m trying to ask for your help.”

“Right, right, your absolutely reasonable request for me to buy you at market. Why, again?” Eddie asks.

“The kids are planning to bid on me,” Steve says gravely.

Eddie blinks at him. “Okay?” he says, when no further explanation is forthcoming. “You basically do most of what they ask, anyway, so…?”

“Okay, believe it or not, I actually say no to at least half of what they ask me to do. I would literally never get anything done if I gave in to all their demands.” Steve jabs a finger at Eddie, who holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Anyway, this is all Henderson’s fault.”

“It usually is,” Eddie agrees, nodding sagely.

“He decided that he was going to bid on me and then use that day to finally make me play your nerd game with you–” Eddie snorts, and Steve shoots him a look, “but Wheeler doesn’t want me to play, so he said he was going to bid against Dustin and make me do anything but sit in on a session with you guys.”

“So let Wheeler win.” Eddie shrugs.

“No! I can’t let fuckin’ Mike win, he’ll probably make me do something even more ridiculous!” Steve exclaims. "He’ll make me play chauffeur for him and El on a date, or something, and he’ll probably include the stupid hat.”

“Wait, I thought El broke up with him,” Eddie breaks in.

“No, they’re on again,” Steve says absently, shaking his head. “Which is why Max has been in a bad mood lately.”

Eddie bites back the reflexive need to ask “How can you tell?”, going instead with, “I thought she and Sinclair were on again.”

“No, they are. That’s why no one’s been actively murdered,” Steve says.

“How do you keep track of all of this?” Eddie asks, squinting at Steve.

“It’s a natural skill. And we’re getting off track,” Steve says quickly. “Normally, I wouldn’t be that worried, because Dustin regularly blows his savings on weird science gadgets or whatever, but then Lucas and Will started taking sides.”

“This is getting very involved,” Eddie says.

“So you see why I’m stressed!” Steve insists, smacking a hand to his forehead (personally, Eddie thinks Steve is stressed for many other reasons, but he figures pointing that out just now won’t be appreciated). “Lucas is on Dustin’s side, and that kid does odd jobs like nobody’s goddamn business; he actually has shit saved up. And usually I’d have faith in him being more, like, sensible than to spend it all on this, but the little shit is really fucking competitive.”

“Wonder who he got that from?” Eddie mutters.

“Okay, we do remember that I’m not actually biologically related to any of these idiots, right?” Steve snaps.

“Well now we’re just getting into nature versus nurture–”

“Eddie.”

“Right, sorry, continue.”

“Well, Will took Mike’s side–”

“Shocking.”

“Right? But anyway, I don’t know if the kid has much saved up, but between him and Wheeler, they might be able to win.” Steve sighs, looking far more world-weary than Eddie feels the situation really warrants.

“You know you don’t actually have to do what they ask you to, right?” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “If an auction winner complains to the school that the person they bid on didn’t fulfill their end of the bargain, they can get their money back. It’s a whole…” he waves his hand vaguely, “thing. Happened once when I was a sophomore; Deacon McNab. Lost a good chunk of change for the football team, and they vandalized the shit out of his car.”

“Ah, right. Forgot we went to school with literal psychopaths,” Eddie hums.

“So, I just need you to bid on me and win, so I’m not stuck wasting a Saturday on whatever the hell the kids are going to try to make me do. Or not do. Or– whatever,” Steve says.

“Okay, not that I don’t understand your predicament here, but I think you’re forgetting something kind of important, Steve,” Eddie drawls.

Steve’s brows draw together in question. “What?”

“I’m fucking poor.”

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t mean– no, I will give you the money, you don’t have to spend a dime, man, I just need you to get me out of this.”

“Why not have Buckley do it?” Eddie asks.

“That was Plan A, but she actually has a date that night, and it’s kind of a big deal, so I don’t want her to cancel,” Steve says. “But I assumed you wouldn’t be busy.”

“Wow, rude,” Eddie scoffs, and Steve sighs.

“Fine, sorry, I just really hoped you wouldn’t be busy.” Steve gives him the most lethal set of puppy dog eyes Eddie has ever seen, as if there had been any chance from the beginning that he’d be able to say no. “Please?”

Just for show, Eddie lets out a long sigh, falling against his chair and letting his head flop over the backrest like he’s deflating.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve groans, sounding so genuinely relieved that Eddie almost feels bad about how quickly his thoughts dip into the realms of the inappropriate. “Oh my god, I owe you.”

Eddie glances back up at Steve, tongue darting out to wet his lips almost unconsciously. “You know I’m not as easy to appease as a couple of fifteen-year-olds, right?”

Steve’s eyes drop for just a second—maybe down to Eddie’s lips, maybe not; who can say?—before he looks back up, cocking an eyebrow at Eddie. “I think I can handle it.”

Slowly, Eddie grins. “We’ll see.”