#give them something fluffy to heal my soul

[weird-an]

There is a crossroad just outside Hawkins, where corn grows so high it's hidden from anybody's view.

Blood runs down Billy's temple and his head pounds like Neil didn't stop hitting him. Neil who found his Mandate magazine and went fucking crazy.

Billy can't go back. Billy can't go back or he's going to get fucking killed. By his own father. He had never seen Neil so angry - and Neil has always been angry, but not like that.

He has thought about it for a while. It's just some make belief, some hocus pocus, but Billy needs a miracle. He doesn't wear shoes and pebbles tear his holey socks apart. He just grabbed the box and ran.

It's eerily silent. Almost midnight - he thinks. He doesn't have a watch. He digs through the ground with his bare hands. He buries the blue box he stole from Max in the hole. It's a jewelry box she never uses. He has gotten a bit of dirt from the local graveyard, a cat bone from a school's exhibit and an ugly photo from his last school in California where he had to smile while his back was still aching.

A fat drop of crimson blood drips on his fake smile. He wipes his forehead, before he can remember that his hands are dirty.

He stands up. Nothing happens.

It's a cold night. His breath forms little clouds, floating into the night. The moon is gone, waiting to get reborn. An endless circle of birth and death.

"What a surprise." Steve Harrington stands behind him. Same as usual, wearing a pastel blue and pink polo shirt and his ever perfect hair fluffy and only slicked back a little.

"Billy Hargrove needing help?" he scoffs - and it's almost as if they were on the court and not on a crossroad, about to make a deal. "Wanting to gift me his soul?"

There's a red shine in his eyes, but more in the way that it seems like a reflection.

"You're a... demon?" Billy asks. Maybe that's some stupid prank. Maybe that's an explanation why Harrington is so unearthly pretty. "And you're going to High School?"

And sucking at it, is something he doesn't add, but he knows how many classes Harrington is failing. Tommy won't shut up about it. He would have rather expected Hagan to be a fucking demon and not Harrington who now gives him a goofy grin.

"Oh, well..." Harrington says. "Let's say I made a deal a few years ago and then I unfortunately died early."

There's a headline Neil had read out loud to them before they moved here. About a girl, Barb Holland, being thought dead for three weeks - and then rising from the dead, ringing at her parent's door like she just went out to buy some milk.

"God has blessed this place," Neil had said. Apparently Hawkins is about as cursed as Billy feared it is.

"Enough about me." Harrington tilts his head. "What do you want?"

To live, to be free pops into Billy's mind, bright and colorful like a rainbow.

Billy thought about it a lot. First he thought he wanted his dad dead. So that he can never touch him again, so that he doesn't have to be afraid anymore. But if Neil dies, he doesn't have a father or a mother.

The thought is a dark shadow, making him sick.

"I want him to stop hurting me," he says instead. It won't heal the scars, it won't unbreak his bones, it won't make it forgotten, but maybe more bearable. It's what he wanted when he was five, when he turned ten, what he wants to today and what he always wished for whenever saw other people blowing out the candles on their birthday cakes.

Harrington's eyes flicker to Billy's bloody mullet and his dirty socks.

"You need to tell me his name," he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I'm just a demon, not a mindreader."

"My dad," Billy grits out. "Neil.. Hargrove."

There is pity crossing Harrington's face, something he has always been afraid of, but it's gone within seconds, maybe only been a shadow and gets replaced with a red glow, irises more crimson than hazel now.

"Let's seal the deal." Harrington smiles, teeth shining white. "You know how we do it, right? Your soul for me doing you a favor."

Billy heard the stories. Billy didn't expect to become a part of them. Billy doesn't think he has a soul and if he does, it can hardly be worth anything.

Harrington smells like expensive aftershave and smoke.

Billy presses a kiss on Harrington's soft lips. It's a rush, a relief. He feels something shift, something clicking into space.

Harrington laughs into the kiss. "The deal is already done, Hargrove."

Which means Billy's soul is Harrington's now and Neil won't ever hurt him again. The blood on his temple dries. The cut on his scalp stopped throbbing, there's only a faint sting reminding Billy of its existence. He feels like he just jumped into the ocean on a hot summer's day.

He licks across Harrington's mouth, hungry for more.

"Greed and lust are sins, Billy." It almost sounds like a compliment.

Billy's throat turns dry and he wants to pull away, humiliation burning away the cool calm that has begun to spread inside his chest.

It's just a deal - and that's closed now.

Harrington tugs on his bottom lip, sharp pain joining the sweet sensation.

"If you ever feel like sinning, come and find me," Harrington purrs -

and then he's gone. Billy stands on the road, lips tingling, still smelling Harrington's aftershave on him.

He walks home. It's one of these nights when spring is about to fade, summer's heat lurking around the corner. Still cold, but not that he's shivering.

Cherry Lane is deserted, a few lights flickering when Billy comes home. The door is open. He doesn't hear Neil shouting at the TV.

He washes the blood off his face and goes to bed. He wonders if he can dream without a soul. He wonders if it's working. His lips burn and he still feels Harrington's mouth on his.

[yourlocaltreesimp]

wait wait wait. are your requests open??? ajksbddkjdjd. if not, please ignore, I'm just??? since its like my first time making an official request.

but hmm..? what do i ask for?

maybe something along the lines of a guide who's really averse to touch and has avoided anything to do with it for weeks/months, but suddenly they get more comfortable, leaning into them, giving quick hugs or something like that.

as for who... there's no doubt about hyrule and maybe another one of your choice <3

but only if you're up to that, sweetheart, don't force yourself, okay?

also, did you have a good time today, whatever be the time that you're reading this? i hope you did, and stay hydrated!

Start time for writing 7:12

End time for wiring 7:35

Requests are always open (esp for you fungi <333)

Ik you love your Hyrule content so I hope this is good supply!

Learning to Love

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Words couldn’t quite describe how utterly enchanted Hyrule was when it came to you. Maybe it was the allure of something so present, yet just out of his reach, that made you the center of his thoughts. He was always respectful of your boundaries. Always. The faeries always taught him to take good care for what he cared for and that most certainly extended to you. Your clothes were clean, Your whims met, your wounds -should there be any- healed, your neck wrapped with a silver necklace he’d carved carefully just for you. One he waited to give until all his sisters could enchant it. He’d walked the end of his hyrule many, many times, and he’d never had his affections captured so entirely by any given thing. Not even the roaring nature of the earth truly sparked him to life like you had. You’d bewitched him, heart, mind and soul as the poets of his time might’ve said. So when he approached his sisters, with that full heart he never thought he’d get to have, they placed their strongest spells among its strong chain and delicate pendant. They made sure that whatever he sought to protect would stay safe, so he’d never know heartbreak.

What he hadn’t expected, was his yearning to be met. It was small at first, you staying closer to his side. Imperceptible to any onlooker, but he was so keenly aware of your presence that he noticed. But as time moved on, it seems your fixation on his presence did as well. Instead, you favoured to revel in it, slowly at first. You basked in the light and warmth he provided, leaning into him when you were sleepy, trusting that he’d keep you alive and well. You linked your pinkies with him when you walked so you wouldn’t stay far from your haven. You picked out stray leaves and twigs from his fluffy hair. All things that were large changes in ground, all that left him with a red face and all that left the others teasing him the second you couldn’t hear. But having you trust him was worth every bit of it. Having you hold hands with him just because, fiddling with his fingers as he felt his magic jump to where your hands met. How everyday he hoped to be as alive as he was in that moment. Having is heart soar and stop as your arms linked around his middle. How after the first time, it increased. How you surrounded yourself with him because he proved he was worthy. But also just because you wanted him to be there. Because he proved he wanted to be there.

[ciderfanfic]

[One Piece x Reader Series] We got a mommy on the ship

Part 2: An Awkward Encounter - Reader x Law

------

Trafalgar's first encounter with (y/n) could be one of the most awkward that ever existed.

The surgeon of death saved Luffy so he could get the alliance with the straw hat pirate. He believed with the boy and the witch (y/n)'s power, his chance of winning would increase.

Unfortunately, (y/n) did not make it to the submarine when the Heart pirate came to get Luffy. She stayed behind to stop Admiral Akainu. Trafalgar was nervous because he needed them both for his plan, if the witch died...... Although the captain was quick to recover and ordered his crewmates to submerge once he saw (y/n) stepped on the admiral like a sandbag.

She'll be fine, she is strong, Trafalgar thought and focused on his surgery with Luffy.

This is strange. No. Trafalgar did not talk about these weird cracks on Mugiwara's skin but the sudden appearance of a black cat next to the boy. Since they escaped Marineford to meet Ivankov and let Jinbe stay on their submarine to look after Luffy, no one acknowledged a black cat on board. Judging from the closeness between Luffy and the cat along with his relaxing expression, the death surgeon assumed they knew each other.

The cat did not allow Trafalgar to touch it but not showing hostility towards him too, just lightly avoiding his hands whenever he reached it. Not that he minds tho, it's just its fur that catches his attention and he couldn't help but want to stroke it. Then he found out the cat was injured, its blood wet Mugiwara's bandage. He was about to carry the cat away but it continued avoiding his contact "You are wounded. Your blood soaked Mugiwara-ya." The cat stopped to stare at him, tail slightly swaying "I'll patch you up."

As if the cat could understand his words, it finally let him carry it to the table and treated its wounds.

I can't believe my skills would be used on a cat someday, Trafalgar smiled wryly, but soon discovered the cat was injured by something sharp. There were cuts all over its body "What kind of mess did you get yourself into?" He instinctively asked, expecting no answer from the cat of course. It's not like it's gonna talk human language like Bepo.

The black cat no longer avoided Trafalgar everytime he tried to treat it. What surprised him was how fast the cat healed, he couldn't help but be suspicious that it might not just be a normal cat. Then suddenly one night, the Heart captain found the black cat laid on his fur hat on the table of his room.

"Mugiwara-ya's room is over there." Trafalgar pointed outside the corridor, assumed that the cat had lost its way but it made no move. Its fur was pitch black, if it ever curled up and hid its face then there is no way to tell apart the head and the rest. Not to mention that they were underwater, it could easily blend in the environment. Trafalgar sat on his chair in front of the cat "Give me back my hat." The surgeon grabbed his fur hat but the cat refused to leave the soft fabric and yawned.

The captain grumbled under his breath, he thought of an idea and picked up both his hat and the cat, carried them to bed and flopped on. The cat jumped unexpectedly to his action, landing on Trafalgar's chest cautiously. Both of them stared into each other's eyes before the cat relaxed and snuck its fluffy body in his embrace.

Surprisingly, Trafalgar was about to use the cat like a soft pillow, it turned out there was some kind of energy flowing from the cat and into his body. They eased his mind from the weight of his thoughts like a meditation and cured the soul full of hatred and revenge of Trafalgar.

It was the first time since he lost Corazon, Trafalgar slept like a baby, so deep and peaceful with the fluffy ball in his chest.

Days later, the crews of Heart Pirate and Jinbe witnessed Trafalgar carrying a black cat while walking around the submarine. He would fiddled with its paws while leaning on Bepo for a nap. The death surgeon would even turn the cat upside down and caress its soft belly after a few attempts and get scratched.

"Ah. It's a she." The crews realized the cat's gender when it showed its belly in their captain's lap "Captain, where did you find it?"

"I don't know. Maybe Mugiwara-ya knows it."

The real shock slapped Trafalgar in the face, hard, when he heard Luffy called the black cat by the witch's name, (y/n).

"Of course this is (y/n), my sister!" The straw hat boy grinned widely while holding the cat in his arms "She doesn't usually stay in human form unless she is fighting."

As if the true wasn't enough criticize for Trafalgar and his crews (probably Jinbe too), (y/n) the cat swaying it tail and spoke "Hello boys~"

...

Trafalgar had a hard time sleeping after that. He had been caressing and stroking the famed witch with bounty as high as an Emperor like a drug (cat) addict. Curse her for not telling who she was! She could have spoken herself!

Who would have thought, huh?! Who would have thought a harmless fluffy cat was the dangerous witch (y/n)??? If Trafalgar knew that was the witch, there's no way he would touch her! Recalling the daily hugging (y/n) session and enjoying her soft fur, oh for fck sake they even checked her gender the usual way people would to animals, Trafalgar felt the urge to jump down the ocean and killed himself in order to clear this shameful past.

Punk Hazard.

Whatever will come will come, Trafalgar made an alliance with Straw Hat Pirate to take down Doflamingo. Carefully he observed the crews, only sighed in relief when he spotted no sign of the black furball named (y/n). The Heart captain would never admit that since he knew the cat's true identity, he was too embarrassed to meet the witch.

Trafalgar well knew he couldn't avoid (y/n) forever since they're alliance now, sooner or later they will cross paths, not to mention (y/n) was Luffy's sister. But he was not prepared when the black cat was lying comfortably on the sofa of his room in Caesar's lab.

How the hell did she get in here?!?

"Thou look like thou have seen a ghost, kitty." (Y/n) playfully stated and jumped off the sofa, turned into her human form and approached the surgeon.

"Not you too." Trafalgar hissed, having Luffy called him by nickname wasn't enough or what that the sister had to make up with another?! "And excuse you. You are the cat here!"

"Aw. Still mad about that?" (Y/n) grinned, stepped forward the captain until they were face to face "I remember thee enjoyed the feeling of mi fur and soft belly when thy hands roaming over mi body." She made a hurtful expression and put her hand on her chest while Trafalgar groaned in embarrassment "If anyone should be gloomy, that will be me. Thou have taken advantage of mi cat form."

"You could have spoken it out!" The surgeon sneered at her, hated it when she put on a smug face. He took a deep breath and stared back at (y/n), grinned cocky "Or are you the one enjoying that, feeling another's hands on your body?" He said sarcastically.

"Oh trust me. Thou will feel different when thou art an animal and yes." (Y/n) were too close to Trafalgar's comfort, shamelessly admitted with a smirk and whispered in his ear "And yes... I enjoyed thy hands, kitty. What about th---" (Y/n) dropped her words to jump back, avoiding the swinging blade from the oh-so-flushed surgeon "Now~ That is no way to treat a lady."

"You're a witch." Trafalgar snapped, his ears were so red they could bleed.

"Still a lady." (Y/n) shrugged before shrunk back to be the black cat and jumped on the sofa earlier "Alright, just messing with thee. No need to look at me like thou want to slice me to pieces." She rolled on her back, exposing her belly. Even in cat form, Trafalgar swore he can still see her smug face "I just had a vision that thee may need help so here I eon."

Trafalgar walked over and sat on the other side of the sofa, glanced at the black cat, Kikoku in his hand "Your prediction today is wrong, witch."

"Tch. Such toxicity. If thou decide to make an alliance with the little one, show some respect to his crewmates." The cat got on her feet and started walking to the captain which he flinched "And stop acting like I just harass thee. Thou art the one stroking me."

"Will you just shut up?!" Trafalgar groaned, wondering if the decision of making alliance with these people is a good idea.

"It's thee being paranoid. All the straw hat crews art fine touching me in mi cat form."

The surgeon startled when he felt the weight of the fluff ball on his lap, (y/n) had already sat on him with her tail swaying gently, tempting him to touch her fur which he tried so hard to resist.

"You're fine with that?" He asked in disbelief.

"Like I've mentioned, it feels different when thou art an animal and I've been a cat for quite a long time." (Y/n) licked her paws "If thou didn't act like it's forbidden to stroke mi fur because I eon originally a human, then I have no reasons to tease thee." She looked at Trafalgar with her (e/c) cat eye "And I do not lie. I enjoyed thy hands."

This time the Heart captain did not swing Kikoku at the cat but his flushed expression betrayed him. He could not move when (y/n) made a nest out of his lap. Trafalgar sighed heavily, finally he gave up. He lifted his hand to stroke her fur. Yes, he still remembered the soothing energy from her and how it helped him relax.

"Are you even purring?"

"I eon a cat, of course I eon purring, kitty."

"I have a name." He growled tirely.

"I know, kitty~"

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Hey, Kirby, what is meta knight to you?

Also, can I have a hug?

He's Kirby's dad, and Kirby is Meta Knights child~

When I created this blog and started writing this story... I had one goal and one goal only... to produce the most fluffiest Meta Dad content the fandom has ever seen. This is has been my mission since day one~ . Meta dad is the heart and soul to this whole story from the start.

After the end of the anime I kept wondering. With Nightmare gone what's their relationship gonna be now? Which is what got me writing the story in the first place.

Also this is future Kirby answering. This before Kirby formally become Meta Knight apprentice and MK's wing & mask reveal. I spoiled a few key moments in the story but overall Kirby & Meta Knight's relationship is a one of trust, healing and unconditional love. (Meta will go back to his anime armor but I just want to give you a preview of his future design/ and yes we can see MK's smile because of the way his heads tilled).

There were a lot of asks that I had to answer so I had to put them all together. I'm also starting an archive of my own account and waiting for approval so I can post the fic. there as well. I will link once I get it up and running. Plus I wanted to give you guys something fluffy before I bring in the angst train have a swell day.

[smalls-words]

Healing Hands pt. 4

Summary: You and Wanda explore each other in a way not many would dare to try.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm (reader), sad Wanda, fluffy bits, more healing.

A/N: let’s goooooooo

pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv, pt. v, pt. vi

*not my gif*

As the week came to a close, you woke up extremely late to the sound of stirring energy. You shuffled out of your bed, past the kitchen, standing on the porch as your head cocked to the side.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Wanda spun around and a smile graced her features. You had watched her happiness blossom, unlike the purple catkins within the willow tree, as the months began to get colder. Now, she wore a simple pair of jeans matched with a grey jumper, but that wasn’t the biggest change of them all.

“You’re, um… Your hair… I mean, wow…” You pointed awkwardly at her and then your own head, swirling both hands around your dumbified skull before shoving them back to your sides.

“Yeah, I thought since I was doing the whole soul-searching and heart-healing that I should slowly return to my roots.” She walked up to you, fiddling with a strand of her newly brunette locks.

She watched you rub your neck nervously before you yawned again, making her chuckle. “Would you like lunch or the sun?”

You looked down at your growling stomach, but before you even opened your mouth, she smirked. “I think that means lunch.”

You chuckled nervously, letting her walk in front of you so you could shake your nerves off until she stood in the kitchen calmly.

“Y/N…” She took your hand in hers, your eyes flitting over the healer mark before looking her in the eye. 

“Yes?” 

“What dish is your most favourite? What comforts you when you’re having a night in? After a break-up or a bad day?” 

You thought for a moment. You never had nights in, there was always some idiot sorcerer that needed to be healed. You’d never dated anyone at Kamar-Taj - don’t date your coworkers - and the fact that you had an… odd personality never got you far in the real world.

But bad days were something you knew all too well.

“Pizza.” You answered, making her chuckle.

“Of course it is. You seem like a pizza girl.”

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” You scoffed playfully, sitting down in the chair across the counter.

But you were surprised when she laid a pizza base in front of you, a chopping board to the side whilst she stared into the fridge. “Any toppings you prefer?”

“Um… Cheese, obviously. Ham is always nice.” You faltered on your third ingredient.

Wanda turned around slowly. “Don’t tell me you like pineapple on pizza.”

You hid your face in your hands whilst she laughed incredulously. “Seriously?! That’s disgusting! Pineapple is a fruit, you don’t put fruit on pizza!”

“Yeah, well… Why do they put fish on pizza then?! That’s an animal!” You countered weakly, your stomach churning at the sound of her laughter.

*Stop this, Y/N. You can’t fall in love with a patient.* Your logical mind scolded you, but your heart had other plans.

Like observing the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, or how she would continue to giggle a bit after her long laugh at the fact you liked pineapple on pizza. She shook her head, but a tin of the fruit chunks appeared in front of you, making a truly happy grin spread upon your lips.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” She replied as she began to make her pizza.

You noticed she was trying to use her magic as little as possible. She cut up her ham into small squares before chopping up mushrooms and onions, the latter not giving her any trouble.

She then popped her pizza in the oven after it beeped to let her know it was temperature-ready, but saw you looking at your ham. Your cheese lay in a suitable layer across the dough, and your gaze down at your hands with an expression of loss.

“Y/N, do you know how to use a knife?” She asked softly, not wanting to embarrass you.

You looked up at her and she smiled gently, but you shook your head in answer. “No. Kamar-Taj had its own chefs and… and my mother never taught me.”

Wanda’s mind flickered over the memory before she came over to you. “Come on, up up.” She urged, pushing your chair out of the way after you stood.

“Wanda, what-?” You immediately shut up as she came behind you, calling her knife to her hand but that’s not what you were focused on.

You could feel her breath on your neck, her hips and chest against your ass and back. Her arms wrapped around you, a caring warmth encompassing you, before she took your hands like you were a puppet.

“This is how you grip a knife.” She instructed, manipulating your fingers into a hold as she covered your hand.

By the gods, they were soft. And smooth. You never noticed it before - maybe the Darkhold had done far more damage than Wanda or you knew of.

“And then when you’re cutting something, you generally want to start from the tip of the knife to the bottom. But for ham, we’ll just slice the tip right through.” 

You chuckled before she lightly slapped the back of your hand. “Cheeky. Don’t think like that.” She scolded.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” You scoffed.

“Don’t I?” She shot back, her magic dancing along your back-to-normal fingertips before disappearing.

“Now come on, I’ll be finished eating by the time you put yours in.”

You - well, she manipulated you - finished cutting up your ham before sprinkling the pieces over your pizza and strategically smothering it in pineapple. As you put your pizza in proudly, she smirked at you, remarking something about wanting ‘pizza with your pineapple’.

You both sat outside and waited for them to cook, the smell wafting through the cabin and out towards you both, taunting your taste buds as your mouths watered.

You then felt Wanda’s gaze on you and turned to her, noticing how she was looking at your arms. You don’t know why, but a sudden urge to cover them came over you, your magic stretching the sleeves.

“I’m sorry for staring.” The witch murmured, picking at her nails nervously.

“It’s alright.” You replied.

“How did you get them?” She asked.

You sighed, looking out onto the lake. “When my body was broken as I was in the process of becoming a healer, my skin ripped. It was something the Sorcerer Supreme, at that time they were called the Ancient One, had never encountered before. So when I came out the other side…” You slowly pulled back on your sleeves, returning to a short t-shirt.

“I was covered in fresh scars. Overtime, they’ve faded to what they are now, but every scar is a place where my skin ripped. My body could not physically take the transformation. If I took too long, I could have disintegrated. It’s happened before, to other sorcerers.”

Wanda admired the fact that you were starting to get comfortable around her. “Well then, you almost certainly lost your leg.”

Your head turned a fraction too quickly to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“Your thigh? It has a bunch of lines all clumped together.” She spoke before her timer went off in the kitchen.

“Oh, that’s mine! I’ll set another timer for yours.”

As she darted into the kitchen, you stared out onto the lake. Would you ever be able to tell her the truth about those scars?

——————————🜃🜂🜁🜄 —————————

The time had come. You’d decided to do it in your bed, so you would be able to get some rest right away in a more comfortable environment. The decision to time it with the sunlight was no mistake either, giving you some more energy whilst you slept.

Wanda sat nervously on the bed as you read through your Healeon notes, taking a few deep breaths before you stretched your hand out to her. “Are you ready?”

“Which one are we doing this time?” She asked quietly.

“Brotherly. You said that was the next major loss after your parents, correct?” You inquired, to which she nodded.

“Good. Now, tell me about your brother.”

“His name was Pietro Django Maximoff. He was older than me by twelve minutes. We were experimented on and we gained our powers, using them for bad in the beginning. But then we realised what we were doing, and we changed sides.”

“Sounds like somebody doesn’t like losing.” You smirked, making her chuckle slightly.

“Okay, there might be a hint of that in there somewhere.” She playfully continued before you felt a large wall around this sector of her heart.

“Continue with your story, please.” 

“Well, when we changed sides to the Avengers - ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ sort of thing - we, uh… I, um… I lost him.” 

You felt the wall crack underneath your soft pressure, the true level of foundation showing through. “How did that make you feel?”

“Honestly? It hurt. It hurt more than any needle I’ve ever encountered, helpful or harmful. He was my twin, the only thing closer than siblings.”

Tears began to prick her eyes and she struggled to wipe them away fast enough when you held her hand. “It wasn’t just the loss that was hard. I was so... so lonely. Nobody wanted to-to talk to me, nobody wanted to train with me, nobody wanted to help me get better at controlling this stupid power... Nobody wanted me.” She whimpered.

“Pietro was always there. Even when I couldn’t touch him with my hands, I could always find his mind. I could always feel him there, lurking at the back, just waiting to help or be there for me. I just… I wanted to be wanted.” She choked back a sob.

You took both of her hands and pulled her close to you, hugging her tightly but gently, a hand around her waist and one behind her head - your sister had once called it a safety hug, and Wanda felt nothing less than safe in your arms.

“I’m so sorry you lost your twin. It’s a pain I could not ever fathom.” You muttered close to her ear.

*But you have an idea.* Wanda thought to herself.

She felt your body growing limper in her arms, pulling you back to see you fighting to stay awake. “I’m… so sorry you had to… go through that… twice.”

She remembered the Hex incident and nodded, chuckling slightly. “Yeah. Twice wasn’t fun.” 

Her soul felt lighter as she laid you down on your bed, specially placing you by the window. She knew not to put a blanket on you, but as she was tucking one against your back, she jumped backwards in shock.

Your whole left hand was consumed in black darkness.

She looked at you as you shivered slightly in the bed, curling yourself up to face the sun rays when they would greet you. For now though…

Wanda slid in next to you, underneath the sheets and faced away from the sun, just wanting to be near you in the quiet silence. She eyed the books on your nightstand, seeing how you’d read through most of them.

She now had a goal in mind as she set about manipulating the house once more.

——————————🜃🜂🜁🜄 —————————

A few days later, Wanda was relieved that your hand was starting to fade back to normal and that her mini project was finished. She was so excited to show you, opening your bedroom door widely to see you coming out of the shower ensuite she’d shown you the day after your healing.

You. Were. Naked. 

“SORRY!” She yelled after she slammed the door shut, closing her eyes but all she could see was your shape as a bright outline, like your beauty was one of a god’s that had blinded her.

You opened the door to see her looking at her feet. “Yes, Wanda?” You smirked, watching her lift her head gently.

You were now wearing a plain blue t-shirt with grey sweats on, and that damned smirk made Wanda want to wipe it off. So, she grabbed your hand silently and moved you throughout the house towards a new door.

“Uh, was that there before?” You asked as you came to a stop, but she shrugged and gestured for you to open it.

As you did, you were met with the sight of a room you could only compare to a Disney movie about a beauty and a beast. The grand ceiling stretched high above you, archaic paintings telling a story as they raced up and down the long hallway. There were three levels in total of the enormous room, with a roller ladder attached to every face of shelving.

“Where am I?” You asked Wanda quietly, scared to speak too loudly and shock someone down the hall.

“Where do you think?” She countered.

You shrugged, scoffing in disbelief. You walked around a bit, not straying too far from the witch. “A... A German library? The beautiful Stuttgart one?”

“Not so German, more so… Healeon.” She smirked when you turned to face her.

“These books are in Healeon? You don’t even know it.”

She rolled her eyes. “For a Master Healer, you are not very bright.”

“Hey!”

She stepped towards you and took your hand, bringing you to the centre of the library where one tile stood out more than others. It was gold with inscription, the writing making your heart fill - it was your library.

‘This library was built in honour of the Master Healer. Thank you for your services, your generosity, and your kindness when healing others. Even those who didn’t deserve it.’

“It’s just something small. I figured that with you healing me, getting rid of the Darkhold, saving me from killing countless lives… a library with more than just the Harry Potter series would be a nice gift.” She mumbled, not wanting you to freak out and try to repay her or anything.

That was until she saw tears brim your eyes.

“What? What’s wrong? I-I’ll fix it, I promise.” She quickly turned to stand in front of you, holding your arms by the wrists.

“It’s… It’s…” You struggled to find the word for it, your eyes darting around the library before they came to rest on Wanda’s features.

Her simple smile let you know everything. “It’s something so wonderful you can’t find the word to describe it?”

You nodded at her offered statement. “It truly is.”

She hugged you gently before leading you back through the doorway, even if you wanted to browse the library. She brought you out to the porch, continued down the stairs and was about to lead you to the grass when you let go.

“But…?” You asked meekly.

“Come on. Just trust me.” She grumbled, snatching your hand once more.

You prepared for pain, just like the basement incident, but nothing occurred. You opened your eyes once Wanda stopped walking, the sensation of something lapping at your toes making them open widely.

“No boundary?” You asked plainly.

“Only for the forest and the mountains.” She replied. “And a certain distance for the lake.”

A small smile appeared on your lips and Wanda watched you bend down, your fingers being covered by a thin layer of water every few seconds. She sat down beside you, watching you play with the water like you were a youngster once more.

It only showed her how much she yearned to tell you about your lock of hair in its pocket dimension.

——————————🜃🜂🜁🜄 —————————

After laying in the sun all day, you both stayed underneath the willow tree to watch the sun set. It was magnificent, the clouds above stretching to showcase the lilacs, burnt oranges, even a yellow as bright as the star when it was midday.

Wanda looked over at you as you read your third Harry Potter book, your body feeling her gaze. “Yes, Wanda?” You asked.

“How’s your book?” She replied.

“Good. I’m getting to the good stuff now. Professor Lupin is the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I love him, in both the movies and this book.” 

Wanda’s eyes furrowed. “You’ve read these before?” 

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you want something newer from your library?” She offered a reddened hand but you shook your head.

“I’m okay.”

Wanda lowered her hand, but looking at hers only made her observe yours. The darkness was slowly fading, a slightly slower rate than when it was just your knuckles. She pondered the thought of the next healing stage - how much darkness would there be on your arm? Would it begin to hurt? Would she need to become the healer if you continued?

Her thoughts were scrambling within her mind, worry creasing her brows until a soft thud caught her attention. You had fallen asleep, the fallen book the source of sound, whilst your head rested against the tree.

But Wanda didn’t like that.

In a flash of red, you were back in the house, resting on the couch. With you still asleep, Wanda put her TV show on almost mute before she looked at you. A blanket appeared over your shivering form, one of her favourite and fluffiest, and she watched you cuddle up to it subconsciously.

But what you did next shocked her.

Your eyes opened drearily and you spotted Wanda, shuffling over to rest your head on her shoulder. Warmth blossomed through your body at her small touch, a deep sigh of relaxation tickling Wanda’s skin before you fell back asleep.

Wanda looked down at you from time to time, waiting for you to wake up and realise your error, but it never came. Instead, she felt herself beginning to get tired and turned off the TV, but she didn’t have the heart or energy to take you back to your bedroom.

Even if it was just a flick of her wrist.

——————————🜃🜂🜁🜄 —————————

Two weeks passed and Wanda watched your personality begin to show through your tough healer exterior; you’d get excited over pancakes or pizza, you’d spend hours in your library reading; you’d spend the other hours outside by the willow tree, simply existing in nature.

Wanda would often leave you alone and observe from afar. She didn’t dare intrude upon your library unless a meal was ready, nor did she want to interrupt your quiet time by the willow tree. Often, however, she would send a little flick of magic that would eventually find you, curling around your body before a small sound would echo from it.

“Y/N…” Her voice would whisper your name and you’d smirk, making your way back from wherever you were to find her cooking, making tea, watching TV, any number of things. 

She just wanted to be around you. 

For now, she had called you from your willow tree and you turned to see her on the porch, leaning against the door frame. Her hand and forearm held her mostly upright, the other tucked loosely into her jean pocket whilst her brunette hair would be hanging gently to hold her face beautifully.

You knew what was happening to you, and yet, you couldn’t find it in your heart to break hers once more. 

“Hey, you.” You greeted her happily, but one look in her eyes told you her true feelings.

“Are you alright?”

“I, um… I had a nightmare. About my brother.” She murmured.

“You fell asleep? When?”

“Last night, silly.” She chuckled, looking down at your almost-normal hand.

“I was wondering, if… maybe… you could try and fix it?”

You sighed, noticing how tears pricked her eyes. You knew you couldn’t - or at least, it had never been done before - but you took her hand gently.

“Can we do it in my room?” She quickly asked, to which you nodded.

“Of course.”

She led you through the house towards her room, a place you’d never entered before. She opened the door quietly and you marvelled at the odd sight in front of you. Her room was beautiful - fairy lights traced the headboard of her bed, one that was covered in pillows and a dark red blanket, whilst a guitar sat in the corner with sheet music. On her wall were a few paintings and a window pane that stretched across held a few candles, crosses and masquerade masks.

“Your room is pretty, Wanda.” You commented as she led you to the bed.

“Um…” She started.

You couldn’t just see her nerves - you could feel them. The energy they gave off was unmistakable. So, you sat down on the bed and waited patiently. 

“Do what you need to be comfortable. This is your space, I’m just a guest.”

She lay down next to you on the bed, her hands folding onto her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. “Sh-Should I explain my dream?”

“If you’d like to, then sure. If not, then you can just hold my hand and I’ll figure out the problem.” You replied.

She took your hand in hers, leaving it to rest on the bed as she shifted onto her stomach. As she told you of her nightmare, about her memories with him and how a ghost of his told her she’d failed him, she traced the indentations on your hand. Bouncing over each knuckle like a wave, running up and down your fingers, swirling around the back of your hand to trace some scars. 

She didn’t even notice how your eyes glowed, nor how the marking on her arm did the same. Her simple touch was magnetic to your heart power, urging you to heal the broken soul she was.

With miniscule effort, you poured some power into her. Just the simple touch of her finger on your hand was enough contact to do so, but either she didn’t notice it or didn’t acknowledge it. 

When tears started to drip, your other hand came to her cheeks and brushed them away. She stilled as you did so, observing the determined but caring look on your face. 

“Abite, lacrimae tristitiae. Non iam gratus es hanc pulchram maculare faciem. (Go away, tears of sadness. You are no longer grateful to spot this beautiful face.)” You muttered, surprising Wanda with the unknown language.

“Was that Healeon?” She sniffled.

You nodded sheepishly, looking away from her as a small blush formed. “It just slipped out.”

She smirked, crawling up higher on the bed before her head rested in line with yours, red wisps turning your eyes back to her. “Say something again.”

“You first, Sokovian.” You snickered, watching her gasp in playful shock before she pondered what to say.

Then she looked at you. You little smirk, the small clouds of blush along your cheeks. “Aș vrea să știi. (I wish you knew.)”

Now your mouth was wide open. “Is that it?! I gave you a whole long spiel, two whole sentences, and you gave me four words?”

She giggled to herself, hiding her face in her elbow whilst you tsked her dramatically. “Wanda Maximoff, always taking and never giving.”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you instantly turned to her sad puppy eyes. “No no no, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, Wanda, that was not malicious in intent.”

She just closed her eyes, her voice falling to a whisper. “It doesn’t make it any less true.” 

You shook your head, cupping her cheek and you watched her eyes open to hold a reddened tinge, but no magic was involved. “It’s not. You have lost so much, Wanda. Your parents, your brother, your families. If anything, the world has taken from you what you rightfully deserved - happiness.”

She closed her eyes again, leaning into the palm of your hand and you sighed, gently pulling her into your arms. “Is this okay?”

She nodded against your shirt, her eyes opening halfway to observe the scars on your shoulder. Her finger traced the one just in front of her, back and forth and back and forth, soothing her like a baby in a rocking chair. 

“Sleep, Wanda. Your body did not have enough last night.” You muttered in her ear.

“Okay.” She answered weakly, the touches along your shoulder eventually lengthening in time before they stopped.

In the back of her dreaming mind, she wondered if you would leave her in this vulnerable state. Leave her tucked under the bedsheets, leave her in the dark corner of the house - leave her to do your own thing once again.

But did you?

No. 

You closed your eyes and fell asleep with her wrapped in your arms.

.

.

Taglist:

@padmeswife​ , @ripofflizzie​ , @romanoffswifey​ , @thursdayygrrrl​ , @steinfellds​ , @dajirana​ , @me-uglypretty​ , @thatonebrazilian​ , @wandanatfan​ , @blckrwidow​ , @bibliophilicbi , @reginassweetheart​ . Other people who asked, I tried to tag you but your tags didn’t work for some reason :(

[kim-seung-mo]

♥♙𝔼𝕝𝕚𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔 ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕤♙♥

Blue is for absolute favs and Red is for nsfw!!! but always remember to read the warnings before reading the actual fic!!

♢OT8♢

How will SKZ members confess to you as your fwb by @skztea for... making me laugh lmao jeongin's part in particular

the ones you catch staring at you and the ones who catch you staring at them by @soleilsuhh for... being one of the cutest things I've ever read for sure (hannie's part omg asfkagflkg *dies*)

THE INTERVIEW WITH THE EXES by @chogiwow for... being one of the most interesting concepts I've read, every part is FANTASTIC

(no seungmin or jeongin) SKZ as Subs by @mzmezzler for... ugghhh I just need more sub!skz headcanons, please give me more *cires*

skz as subs by @hanjiesgf for... providing me with more sub!skz content thank you so very much I'm sobbing rn

♢Bang Chan♢

be honest with me by @lotus-dly for... being by far the best chan angst I've ever read

SAFE HAVEN by @kp-alice for... writing sub!idol angst??? we doms aren't always horny yknow? sometimes we doms get emotional too yknow? we need to appreciate these more

Somewhere Only We Know by @seungly for... BREAKING MY HEART????? CAUSING ME TRAUMA??? idk, just read it

♢Lee Minho♢

[11:14 p.m.] lmh by @lotus-dly for... when you need pain but also fluff and hurt/comfort cuz ajhfagsdklasgf I never say no to hurt/comfort

Trapped in Heaven by @chans-starlight for... just, if you want leeknow smut? READ THIS

Leeknow Fluff I Requested Because of That One Video by @seungly for... lino getting called angel and blushing?? more please

All I Have|| L.M by @hwavsg4ch4n for... joker!minho x reader??? I'm already imagining a 500-page book on this thank you

Smear Campaign by @dreamescapeswriting for... melting my heart thank you very much akjaslasjg tsundere!minho is everything

the enemies to lovers project by @softukiyos for... being the best leeknow fic to ever exist PLEASE read this

[7:39am] by @hyunee1 for... just being cute and having my baby kitty being spoiled TAT so freakin cute

[✖︎ sub!Lee Know] › 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚊-𝚣 by @sugar-petals for... just, just read this. I have no words 😭

⇢ ˗ˏˋ [10:55pm] by @cosmic-railwayxo for... MURDERING ME??? I can't anymore, deni is a genius and she can read my mind.

♢Seo Changbin♢

nothing...yet

♢Hwang Hyunjin♢

Cruel Summer by @seungly for... making me feel everything at once in 8k??? couldn't be me, I'd need 30k

♢Han Jisung♢

moonlight by @cosmic-railwayxo for... being the single most beautifully written, fluffy yet emotional, cute, adorable, dreamy, everything positive piece of fiction ever

♢Lee Felix♢

Lee Felix | Drabble by @lotus-dly for... writing about boys in skirts??? something we need to talk about and appreciate wayyy more

you are my everything, my love, can't you see? by @multifcndoms for... crashing my heart and soul into a million pieces and making me feel the pain I put other people through 🥲

beauty and the beast by @h0neydewmoon for... MAKING ME FEEL ALL THE EMOTIONS IN THE WORLD I was legit screaming for the whole second half 😭😭☹️

♢Kim Seungmin♢

Your Eyes by @seungly for... being the cutest thing ever ahhh I loved it adhalsdhlkhf read if you're in a bad mood and need soft seungmin

bf seungmin x gn reader by @zoe8stay for... healing me before I need to take an exam... you see a trend here?

Somebody Loved by @bangchanswolfpelt for... writing the best sub!seungmin smut in only 600 words??? criminally underappreciated

seungmin fell out of love and y/n still loves him the same by @seungly for... CAUSING ME AN IMMENSE AMOUNT OF PAIN (but making me enjoy every second of it)

as the train passes by @starlostseungmin for... creating a whole plot for a kdrama in 4k words??? keisy you're a genius

♢Yang Jeongin♢

nothing...yet

♢Poly♢

to love and be loved by @lotus-dly for... writing something I thought I'd never find... poly!hyunchan and bridgerton au???? more please

[chawarin-panich]

Nani, I gotta tell you that after the epic highs and lows of ep. 7, I feel like reading your 3 fics about FK's really gay fanday would heal me.

I am so sorry for what im about to do to you. I realize that I have lulled you into the false security that I write fluffy FK from all that is my ao3 profile but there's nothing good that can come from episode 7 and FKs repressed gay desire for each other so uh just know that in some ways you did ask and so you're receiving:

Pairing: FirstKhao Rating: G

Firstkhao post GMM fanday concert

-----

There’s few ways to describe riding out another crescendo next to Khaotung, reaching new highs in his life knowing it’s only possible as his partner, next to him. Khaotung’s face is splotchy from the sweat and tears and the cake of makeup who’s durability he’s testing to its maximum. And he looks perfect, he feels perfect, he feels so much better than what First’s imagination could have ever come up with.

Khaotung takes his hand like he doesn’t have to think about it, and even though his heart rate picks up infinitesimally, fast as it was going already, he doesn’t either. Because this is who they are, always ready to support the other, that nothing is truly off-limits, nothing exactly forbidden.

Khaotung tugs him to the dressing room and doesn’t let go until the door is shut behind them, they’ve done this enough times to know that they both need this, First doesn’t know what call it other than aftercare, of just him and Khaotung coming back down into their bodies together after soaring somewhere beyond the capacity that mortal souls were made to contain.

But there’s an undercurrent of something different today, at least in First. It felt a little like he’d given away a little too much of himself, in his performance. Too many loving looks, too much honesty in the way he'd held Khaotung like he'd never let go. It felt like he’d indulged in his greed for Khaotung a little too much, maybe just a drop past what is durable.

But when Khaotung shines so bright, how can First love him with anything but the whole might of his being. Khaotung falls into him like he always does, like he loves First with all of his being and 

When Khaotung is like this, small and trembling from the drop in adrenaline, makeup smudged from where he’s finally been rubbing at it because it irritates his eyes, a smear of glitter and a cacophony of the stench his cologne and sweat, shirt loosened, looking almost debauched as he’s tucked in First’s arms how can First love him with anything less than everything he has to give.

“I love you, Fir.’ Khaotung whispers into his shoulder.

What can First do but hold him tighter and say it back.

“I love you too, TungTung. More than anything else.”

And it’s so easy and so simple, so sincere in the way that it’s absolute that he doesn’t feel the need to add, “maybe more than I should” because what’s the point in that. What’s the point in qualifying it beyond the joy of having Khaotung right here, right next to him. 

Khaotung looks up at him, his eyes glistening, playful like on stage, holding magnitudes in the way that he shouldn’t. What does it matter when Khaotung closes his eyes when First puts his hand on his cheek, fingers tangling into the cold grime of hair gel pooling at Khaotung’s hair to pull him close. What does it matter when Khaotung shivers and exhales like he’s slotting into place, when First pushes their foreheads together and loves him with a greed that cannot be satiated until he’s consumed Khaotung whole.

What does it matter when he gets to have this, Khaotung pulling him close and loving him back with a sincerity that shatters his heart.

What does it matter, when even if it’s just in this moment, he feels that Khaotung is his and it fills him with a contentment so deep that he can spend lifetimes basking in it.

[honeybeewhereartthee]

MY DARLING DOLLS 60

PREVIOUS || PT 10 CH 60 || NEXT

He was excited for the day that the so called blue star will come. So the story of this world will began. But somehow time to flow fast yet nothing can be seen as a sign of the blue star.

He wonders if he change the fate in a very horrible way. He don't want that. He don't want that to befall his friends.

Yet he doesn't know what to do. Beside that. His still stuck in his new form. He can something but he doesn't know if it works. He just want his friends to get their chance soon.

.

.

.

He was practicing going back to his humanoid self at least. But somehow his fellow fluff can't handle it nor a human can. It was odd thing, he wonders if his real form will cause some issues.

But with that problem aside things seems to be fine. He use some clues from his friends future at least possible future. To locate the possible Blue star. Sending dreams to that person.

He did wonder that the classification of the blue star is having a blue hair. Which he have but he never sewn anything and probably suck at it. So him being it, is cross out in the list.

He did look around for other blue haired people. He come across the nice guy but hopeless Ao. Someone who don't exist in his world.

Created only in this world. But is related to someone of the canon world. He and his friends where taken in by Ao cause he can see them (now) . He think those fluffy thing are pitiful and cute.

Luckily that ao know how to sew but he doesn't understand him or any fluff. It's sad. Is he supposed to look for a new one? As he think that he give a heated gaze to the purple-blue fluff that happened to pass by him.

He really doesn't like that guy. How could someone act carefree with the fact he will be a dangerous being in the future.

But he can't take away the chance of this fellow of his own humanity. Because things could have different outcome. If not... It's up to his future self.

..

.

.

He was free flying by the wind when he sense something. Something odd. He went off his group to look for what it was. He was followed by few of his friends.

When he arrive there. He saw corpse..... Oh wait it's still warm. He hops toward the body and realize how its life is fading but the moment he saw that person face he froze.

It's the same person. Ah.....

Should he help you?

He was debating about it but he saw his friends all gather around your form. He realize something. The person he cannot saw was you. Your the important person.

Without you. His friends won't gain humanity. He thought about the outcome, he remembers such act of taking judgement of based on the sins of of the past, shouldn't be apply to you. Because your different...

•" it's for my 'friends'...."• he thought before the sky clouded and darken. He felt disappointed on himself as he have fallen in such state. He felt bad. He shouldn't act that way. He doesn't realize he transform back to him humanoid self holding a pearl in one hand and the other is reaching out for you.

•" I'll save your life.... But I have to erase the links you have with that hateful fiend.... By river of Lethe may you enjoy this second chance and prove me right for my judgement and wrong to my doubts..." •

With you in his arms, he put the pearl above your heart to pose as your soul. One day when your healed enough, you can go back where your soul is.

[virgo-dream]

✨ dreamling / fluff / acts of service / mature ✨

SUMMARY: It’s been 10 days since Dream of The Endless was rescued from Fawney Rig by one Hob Gadling, who takes it upon himself to see to Dream’s recovery. While with Hob, Dream is provided with something he’d been missing even before his imprisonment: to be cared for. read ch. 02: healing waters (2,3k+ words) here or on AO3 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you all so much for the overwhelming amount of love on chapter one!!! For this chapter and the next one, I wanted to try a role reversal of one of my fav scenes from @avelera's absolute masterpiece, Giving Sanctuary. If you've read that, you'll know the scene when it gets to that point. :) happy reading!

The gentle warmth of Hob's arms and chest as Dream rests on them on his way to the kitchen is a feeling like none other. It matches the warmth of his soul, the one he'd seen shine brighter than any other on a poorly lit tavern back in 1389. He lets his head rest on Hob’s shoulder, curling into the safety of his hold. It feels right, somehow, and while he’s usually able to alter his physical form in whatever way serves a situation best, he doesn’t need to; Hob is willing to adapt for him. What a lovely feeling, to not be the one reshaped for the other. And how good it feels to have Hob want to fit with him.

That was, if that was truly what was happening. Dream had misinterpreted Hob's intentions multiple times throughout their centennial meetings, and while he had a feeling that in 1889 Hob had been inching towards something more than just friendship, Dream was not Dream. He was the Lord of Dreams, King of Nightmares. Mystery shaped as a man. Here, he was as weak as any other living creature. If he'd ever had a shot at anything more than friendship, it would have been back then, definitely not now.

"...Dream?"

Hob's voice snaps him out of whatever spiral he'd been currently descending. When he looks up, it's to find a pair of worried brown eyes, with brows knit upwards and a gentle smile. "Hey there. Still with me, mate?"

Dream tilts his head to the side, nose scrunching up a little in disapproval. Was mate some sort of term of endearment now? He knew Hob had not meant it literally. The twisted expression seemed to garner a chuckle out of his strong armed friend, who still had Dream tucked close to his chest. "Alright, I won't call you that. You okay?"

"...yes." It's an effort to speak, it really is. His throat feels dry, and he'd spent so long without exercising those muscles that his usual low register now seemed more like a faint ghost of its old glory. He cleared his throat, and Hob watched every little twitch of the little muscles on his face like he was cataloguing them. Certainly to be better able to predict his outbursts. Humans acted in self preservation, always.

It was hard to keep that belief when Hob's smile of relief didn't seem to unburden him of some deep seated fear of Dream's menace, but only of worry for him. "Alright, let's get you comfortable." 

Dream noticed how all of Hob's efforts in his care were all planned quite thoroughly. He might not have been sure if Dream would want to eat in the kitchen, but Hob was an optimist, and had already left the chair pulled and placed one of the many throw pillows that usually adorned his brown leather couch on the seat as a cushion. When Hob helped him sit down, it was with incredible precision, as if he had experience tending to the injured. Maybe he did, Dream couldn't know. Well, he could have. He just never bothered to. Regret seemed to pile up in his chest.

Hob then reached for a blanket to place over Dream's legs, lastly grabbing a pair of fluffy slippers that he kept in the little shoe closet in the entry hall, then kneeling down to place them carefully on his feet. "Wouldn't want you getting cold feet." He says, and smiles up at Dream before getting back up on his feet and moving to turn the stove back on. 

Dream liked watching as Hob went about his human motions. He knew of those things, saw them in dreams and in the rare visits he made to the Waking. He'd never experienced them first hand, which gave a whole new meaning to having a home cooked meal made for him. Not just for him, but made by Hob for him. It made him feel warm even before the bowl was placed in front of him and the soup poured into it, before the smell of well seasoned peas and of a plate of newly made slices of toast entered his nose, so different from the violence of the smell of iron blood. It's gentle and inviting. Suddenly, his stomach makes itself aware of its own existence, and he can feel his mouth fill with saliva. Dream reaches for the spoon, fingers still a little shaky, but not without warning. "Careful not to burn your tongue. It's still hot."

As his fingers take the cold metal of the silver spoon in hands, the weight feels completely foreign. Not as light as he remembered, not as heavy as it should have ever been. Of the many inconveniences of human existence, fatigue certainly was one of Dream's least favourite to experience. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying his best to hold the spoon. How could he be reduced to such weakness? How could humans take so much from him, when all he ever did was give and give and give. Endless as he was, his patience was limited. He was limited. He could feel the shape of his sister's hands squeezing his chest, the weight of her palm pressed in the centre, sinking the bone in. 

Dream? 

He wanted to puke, but there was nothing in his stomach yet to fuel it. Maybe the bile of his own disgrace, burning his throat on its way up would better serve the purpose of his little pity party.

Dream…? Come back…

Far away, he could hear the sound of metal falling. Was it iron again? A clinking sound, ringing inside his ears, getting louder and louder.

"Dream. Come back to me, Dream."

Warmth substituted the coldness of the metal in his palm. It seemed to chase away the grip of Despair as well, with warm, circling motions on his back. Dream blinked, and the tears swelling on his eyes finally fell. Blue eyes as sacred as those of a doe targeted Hob. To be powerless and insist on emulating power. 

"...is everything okay? Do you want to go back to bed? We can eat in bed if you'd like."

Such kindness, sweet as honey. But even honey can overwhelm the palate.

"...all is fine." A pitiful try at a lie. A merciful play of belief on Hob's part. 

Hob squeezed Dream's hand before letting go, and the freezing cold that took his palm almost seemed to tell him damned if you do, damned if you don't. His caring friend let out a huff of air through his nose, trying to recompose his sunny disposition. He smiles, like smiles can wash all sins away– and maybe for him they do, because who wouldn't forgive Hob Gadling?– Taking the spoon Dream had dropped and setting it across the table. He reached behind him for a clean one on the top drawer, and turned back to Dream. Unwritten agreements. He'd help Dream eat, and wouldn't ask for permission. Dream would pretend it was for Hob's own benefit and not his own. Now in Hob's capable hand, the spoon made its way to Dream's lips, and when it finally entered his mouth, finally poured its content onto starved tongue, the dreamlord was reminded once again that sustenance is also about pleasure. He hums, and as the silver spoon escapes his lips again, he allows himself to look into Hob's eyes. The pride is there again, but Dream reads it as being proud of a job well done. 

Hob finally lets a breath out; he seemed to have kept it in for a while. Humans forgot to breathe too, sometimes.

˜˜˜

Dream didn't know how many of these contracts of good faith the both of them had signed across the last 10 days. He was reminded now that it included, on Hob's part, an offering of unwavering patience and good humour, a gentleness in his motions and a carefully curated tone to his speech. Still, so much spontaneity; in how happy he'd get when Dream finished a meal, when he asked for a little more, and Hob would heat it up just perfectly, pour it in the white porcelain bowl before him. How he'd spread butter on Dream's toast, or brought a glass of fresh water to parched lips. He'd even clean the corners of Dream's mouth with as many napkins as needed, and not say a single thing about it. He didn't gloat, and he certainly didn't ask for any sort of boon. Dream's part of the contract was just this: allow himself to receive care. And while in previous days the Lord of Dreams and King of Nightmares would be offended by the assumption that he needed assistance in being fed, or in anything else, really, that's not the entity sitting on the soft chair in Hob's kitchen. It was Dream, just Dream. His Dream.

The meal, as the others he recalled having while in Hob's care, was perfectly adequate. Perhaps, more than adequate. He'd maybe fashion dreams around him once he was in shape for it, if not only to be able to keep having those meals in the Dreaming. Hob would certainly not want to cook for him forever. Dream let out a little sigh as he was finally done eating, and Hob let his shoulders relax, putting the spoon down and reaching for his own, ready to eat his own dinner. It was time for Dream to watch him, as he used to do in centuries past. Study Hob, catch up with everything he'd missed, even though he didn't have to. Even though he could have chosen to stay.

It was difficult, chasing guilt away. 

˜˜˜

Hob had sat him on the armchair next to the bed, by the open window. It seemed to always be open when Dream was awake, and the suspiciously good weather would usually make the Endless feel like there was meddling of some sort happening, but this was not his own realm, where his temperament reigned supreme. If anyone was lord of the Waking, it was Hob Gadling, and if the Waking bent to his will, sunny skies and soft summer rain would be all there ever was.

Dream could feel the softness of the last rays of sunshine crawling up their place in the sky, painting the room in gentle tones of gold and orange. The gentle summer breeze caressed his cheek, and he allowed his eyelids to close, resting his tired pupils for a bit. Hob's voice brought him out of it almost immediately, or maybe he'd fallen asleep, because the bed was fully made, sheets freshly changed once his eyes opened again. 

"Hello, sleepy head." There was that smile, again. Sunshine as a soul, shining from within. "Thought I heard you snoring there." 

Dream crinked his nose in his usual expression of disbelief, but there was no anger behind it. Maybe a bit of confusion. He was sure he'd only blinked. "I do not snore."

Hob shrugged, and reached to brush the loose strands of black feathery hair away from Dream's eyes, a mirror of what he'd done earlier. "You said you didn't sleep either, but here we are."

He thought to refute Hob, but there was plenty of evidence that he did sleep. 

"Since we're being adventurous today, what about a bath?"

Dream tilted his head slightly, unsure of what exactly was adventurous about a bath. He would certainly not drown, and there was really no need for it. "My body does not require washing." 

Correction: there usually was no need for it. If Dream were to use his powers to keep his physical form clean, he'd exhaust himself and sleep for the rest of the week.

Hob's expression showed an incredible amount of lovingness, almost as if he was watching a child trying to put together the pieces of a jigsaw, but one was far out of reach and he needed to hand it over. "It's not about your body, Dream, it's about your mind. I know you're probably the cleanest being in all of existence. But your mind could maybe use a bath, right?"

How one bathes the mind was clearly beyond Dream's grasp. Humans were funny with how they bent and reshaped their words into new meanings. "...alright."

He wondered if saying yes to Hob had always brought such wide smiles out. How he wished he'd stayed to listen when he had the chance. "I'll get the water ready then!" 

The excitement in Hob's voice made Dream allow himself a smile too, and it seemed to stop Hob from saying whatever it was he was following with. How terrifying it was, to be seen. The smile was gone, and Dream's brows knit close. "Have I done something wrong?"

"–No! Of course not, my friend. It's just. Nice. Seeing you feeling better."

Hob's honestly felt like a caress to the cheek, and perhaps it was the warmth of the imagined touch of his hand on Dream's face that caused it to be tinted in a soft pink shade. Maybe Hob had felt the will of Dream's hand to reach for his cheek, because it now matched Dream's in shade. "I'll. Get the water started."

Dream watched as Hob hurried to the bathroom, and maybe there was awe in his eyes. His own frail palm went to investigate the warmth on his cheeks. I need to be more careful. I would not have him think I wish to take advantage of this arrangement. Of his kindness. Hob is my friend. Hob is my friend. Hob is my friend. I am his Dream.

The sound of water running underscored the speed of Dream's overthinking, and same as the tub, there was no release for the current of thoughts filling up his mind. Dream had always been very attentive and alert to his surroundings. It had been impossible to surprise him, because surprises were never good, and there was only so little distaste he could handle in one endless lifetime. Still, he never had to exercise attention for 100 years straight. That muscle was also strained. When Hob walked up to him, it took Dream a moment to realise he was there. "Hm?"

"Bath is ready." Hob's sleeves were rolled up over his elbows, and his hair was now loosely tied in a short ponytail. He reached out to take Dream's hand. The walk to the bathroom was much shorter than to the kitchen, and Hob had said before that Dream needed to make the effort to walk, even if just a little bit every day. "If you try to walk to the bathroom, I'm granting you with left side of the couch privileges for the rest of the week. You know that's my favourite side." Dream chucked, and Hob's expression seemed to melt, again, into a loving one. "I shall accept your most generous offer."

Their hands were linked once again, and Dream felt a lightness that had been foreign to him even before his imprisonment. He felt like if he was holding Hob's hand, there was nothing he couldn't do. It was time for a bath.

[linabirb]

What are your favourite ship tropes? 👀

tysm for asking this!! warning some tropes can be very. specific

pink and purple. red and blue. you get it.

"i know i tried to kill you like ten minutes earlier but for some reason we're besties now <3 yayyyyyy"

"i NEED to save you. i WILL save you. the things i'm going to do to save you and how healthy my obsession with saving you is depends on the media i'm from and what kind of person i am"

a character gets saved by the character you least expected that from and it turns out they actually have a lot in common and their relationship has a lot of potential. also both of them have trauma that they can heal from together <3

characters trying to heal each other in general is one of my most fav ship tropes. i like it in both cute and fluffy and toxic and unhealthy ways 😌

this image. again, can be in a cute way, but also can be in an insane and violent and toxic yandere way

characters slowly going insane together and making each other worse for some reason!

characters have something the other doesn't have and wishes someone could give them

"i know i've said i'm over you but i lied so let's repeat the toxic relationship cycle again babey!!"

on the other hand i also love ships that you THINK are toxic at first but then you learn more about them and you're like. what the hell. they're so cute actually. i am going to bite them. or maybe they're still toxic but they also have moments that make you think "omg.. there's still love they just don't know how to express it.." it makes me want to run away into the woods with tears in my eyes /pos

character a worshipping character b and there being an implication that character b POSSIBLY likes them back. maybe. who knows.

SUN X MOON...

character a who is so so pure and so so innocent from the outside but is actually a menace x character b who has a horrible reputation but is actually a sweetie

"for one reason or another, i literally can't leave you alone. maybe we have no choice but to be together because of some kind of contract, maybe i'm haunting you, maybe there's an arranged marriage, but anyway hiiiii <3 good luck getting rid of me"

whatever these two have going on

two chaotic and insane people are together now and they're about to become even more chaotic and insane everyone be careful

character a has trouble understanding even the most "basic" things for some reason, maybe they're just a little silly or they're implied to have some kind of disability and character b is genuinely very patient with them and explains them everything and answers all their questions and they're the only one who treats them so kindly. ships like this save my cold and tired soul

😆 x 😐. don't need to say anything else

[foxywrites]

yuna's bungou stray dogs masterlist

works with [♥] are angsty, [🗡] involve straight-out whump, [☁︎] are fluffy and/or have healing, [🖋] are canon rewrite, [⚠] contain topics such as mature content in them. (as a side note some of these might come up in the future chapters and also, i don't write nsfw) almost all of the fics revolve around triggering things that are canon compliant and showed up in the series.

- au's

(the moodboards can be found in the masterlist's)

soulbond au || written in the stars [♥ ☁︎ 🖋⚠ ] masterlist

dazai osamu has seventeen soul-marks, most of which are platonic, and in the short-run of things they do nothing but make his goals to keeping the promise he had made for odasaku impossible- in the long run, however, they are probably the reason he has yet to close his eyes to this world that they are living in. they are probably the only reason that he is still alive...

fem soukoku au || peach blossoms and red camellias [♥🗡☁︎ 🖋⚠ ] masterlist

osamu is eleven when she runs away from home after being betrothed to a man twice her age and is found by mori who takes her in for his own gains.

figure skaters au || to land a quadruple axel [♥🗡☁︎ 🖋⚠] masterlist

after a staged accident on ice that cost dazai his carrier rather than his life, he starts to lose himself and his will to keep going on- the two kids that he meets on the ice, kyouka and atsushi, however, end up giving him something akin to hope.

role reversal/time travel au || to set things right [♥ ☁︎] masterlist

chuuya leaves after the flags dies and dazai is left behind to watch as he becomes one with the light- till he no longer has to anymore. the first time chuuya leaves, he does it alone- the second time, however, he finds himself dragging dazai along for the journey.

amnesiac dazai/dazai gets shot instead au || something worth remembering [♥ ☁︎ 🖋 ] masterlist

dazai is shot instead of odasaku, loses his memories and ends up being taken in by natsume who fakes osamu's death to protect him.

CH 107 fix-it au || it starts up in out bedroom after the war [♥ ☁︎ ⚠ ] masterlist

in meursault dazai closes his eyes in his ex partners arms. chuuya is dead-set on keeping him alive though, he isn't letting him runaway again.

boarding school/rebirth au || written in the stars [♥🗡☁︎ ⚠] masterlist

dazai saves atsushi once more, giving him a place to call home, and atsushi is determined to do the same for him too.

fem skk + drunk dazai || all my agony fades away [♥ ☁︎ ⚠] moodboards 1 & 2

It was three am, when dazai called chuuya in the morning, clearly drunk and far too gone at that point.

- other stuff

appreciation post's/ character studies

-

manga thoughts

screaming about CH 107 CH 107 analysis theories about the book

other shenanigans

what the hell is going on with dazai ships? were there empty spaces and people just said 'get in' to anyone that showed up at screen once and was older than 18?! ships surrounding the best girl, gin akutagawa WIP game's dazai!niece au

[zoeykallus]

Request

Hello love! I’ve been enjoying reading your work over the past few days ☺️

Would you be able to write an Echo x Latina (brown) mid/plus size reader?

Echo and reader have been friends for a long time (reader is a part of the gang; and everyone sees them as a couple). Yet their insecurities prevent themselves from forming a relationship since they want the “best” for the other.

Somehow they do overcome their insecurities and end up together :)

Hunter is relieved 😅

Another thing I have never done yet 😅 I hope I can do this right for you, let me give it a try, sweetheart :)) You didn't really say if you wanted fluff/nsfw or suggestive. So I stayed fluffy with some soft body contact, hope that's okay.

Echo x Mid/Plus Size Latina Reader - Friends To Lovers

Fluff / Romance / Soft Body Contact

Sugar

"What's that supposed to mean now?"

Echo looked at Wrecker annoyed, he didn't like it when others interfered in his personal affairs.

Wrecker sighed and said, "Well, listen, it's obvious that you two like each other."

Echo waved it off and said, "It doesn't matter, she deserves better than me."

Hunter spoke up from the background, "Stop it Echo, that's nonsense."

Hunter came walking into the main room of the Marauder and looked at his brother reprovingly.

"Stop making yourself so small all the time, you're a great guy, a damn good soldier and an even better person. She likes you, you like her, that's actually pretty simple."

Echo sighed and straightened up.

"I don't know" he said uncertainly "I really do like her immensely and we are good friends, but if I take one more step now I could ruin it all"

The ramp opened, preventing Hunter from giving Echo an answer. Echo's heart almost stopped when he saw you come into the Marauder. You were wearing civi clothes, a breezy summer dress that gently hugged your wonderful curves, not too raunchy, but not entirely innocent either. Your tanned skin glistened a little from the lotion you always used and that he loved to smell.

His gaze wandered along your body for a moment, he loved your curves so much. But he hurriedly broke away, threw you a soft smile and walked past you to the outside. Crosshair was standing outside, he had accompanied you to get a few things. When he saw Echo come out he nodded silently at him.

"Did you get everything?" asked Echo.

"Most of it," Crosshair grumbled.

"Echo."

Your voice tingled under his skin. He turned to you and saw you coming down the ramp to the outside.

"Yes?" he said almost tentatively.

"Can I talk to you in private for a moment?"

He swallowed, his heart pounding in his throat, but he nodded and said, "Of course."

You were nervous, Echo was so incredibly cute and you liked him way too much not to be nervous.

"I've been thinking," you began and your heart wanted to run away from you, it was beating so fast in your chest.

He looked at you intently and his gaze felt like he was crawling into your soul to cuddle with it, Echo always seemed to you like he could just slip inside you and heal all the wounds that had ever existed inside you.

"About what, Mesh'la?" he asked softly.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, Mesh'la, whenever he called you that you got all warm, you knew what it meant and it was so incredibly flattering and sweet.

"About you and me," you finally said, bolder than you actually felt.

His eyes grew wide.

"Oh... I, did I do something wrong?"

You frowned, wondering why that was the first thing he thought.

"No. I don't know why you think that but-"

"I know I stare at you a lot but I would never presume to approach you inappropriately or-"

You laughed softly and interrupted him, "No, no, no. Echo, what I wanted to say is.... I'm incredibly fond of you, maybe a lot more than I should be.... I don't know... I just wanted to get that off my chest and," you interrupted yourself, shrugging your shoulders helplessly.

"Please say something," you finally said softly.

Echo took a step toward you, his hand wandering to your cheek and gently nuzzling it.

His head came closer and with a soft sigh, leaned his forehead against yours.

Softly, gently, almost whispering he said," I'm crazy about you Sugar, so blown away. For a very long time I've had a crush on you, but we both know I'm different and I always thought.... I always thought you could never love someone like me."

You let out a stuttering breath. You'd always known he liked you, but you hadn't known how much. His confession seemed to take the air out of your lungs and at the same time give your heart wings.

"Echo," you spoke softly, "I want to be more than friends."

His lips came closer, but before they touched yours he asked, "Are you sure about that?"

"Perfectly"

His lips touched yours, warmer and softer than expected, tentative, gently testing, then more intimate, confident and finally demanding.

His tongue opened your lips and began to hunt yours, each velvety collision a firebrand in your neural pathways, a tingling in your belly that spread in warm waves.

As you both broke breathlessly from the kiss, his arm moved around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. His forehead leaned against yours again and he smiled with his eyes closed.

Behind you a clapping sounded and an exclamation that could only be from Wrecker. You obviously had an audience, but for the moment you didn't care, even though you felt heat rising in your cheeks again.

Feeling his arm around your curvy body was a bit of a shock at first, you were never sure if he could desire you, you weren't one of those girls the guys hung up as posters in their bunks, you were a bit roundish. But Echo pressed you so tenderly and lovingly against him that you forgot any self-doubt and could just enjoy the moment.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Word find tag (soon, later, wait, when, and now)

I was tagged by @thegreatobsesso. Thank you! <3

Tagging: @i-can-even-burn-salad, @winterandwords, @nanashi23 Your words: quick, thrill, threat, laugh, heal

I've been challenged to find positive quotes after my last very angsty word find. They were slightly difficult to find, but turns out I *do* have a few :D

These will be from Shattered Soul. It got a bit long (bc they're cute scenes damnit 🥺💜), so I'm slapping on a readmore.

wip intro

Soon

[Darian] He fixed up a plate and dug in; he hadn't realized how hungry he was. To his relief, Alaia began eating again as well, although she stopped sooner than he would've liked.

She gave him a strange look right as he took a large bite from a meatpie. "I'm really not a prisoner here, am I? Kiala offered me training. You're sitting here eating with me, not even asking any questions. Nobody locks the door. If I could walk more than two steps at a time, could I leave?"

The meatpie stuck in his throat at that, and he reached for some water to wash it down. "Do you want to leave?" he asked carefully.

Please, don't want to leave.

"Leave the room," she clarified, and he began to breathe again, nonchalantly taking another sip of water to cover his relief.

Later

[Alaia] She picked up the clear glass, which showcased a rainbow of colored liquid within. It smelled sweet, slightly fruity, but had the distinctive aroma of alcohol. Tentatively, she took a tiny sip, mindful of the coffee she had tried this morning. But she was relieved to find this tasted wonderful, like a medley of different fruits bursting upon her tongue. A noise of appreciation escaped as she looked at the drink with more interest.

Nuzzling her temple, Darian asked, "Better than the coffee?"

A pleasant warmth spread in her chest as she took a larger drink. "Oh yes, there's no comparison."

Darian chuckled.

Jesam pressed close to her other side, reaching over to grab some bread and cheese. Aleix teased him, jerking the basket away, and she reached out to intervene as they started fighting for it. Cambria gave her a conspiratorial grin, and they both reached for the basket, claiming the last couple pieces of bread, cramming them into their mouths as all the males complained.

A couple of drinks later, Alaia felt ready to float free from her body. Whatever this alcohol was, it wasn't human alcohol. It made her feel light and airy. But also warm and fuzzy, so maybe it was normal alcohol. She didn't know anymore, and didn't care.

Wait & When

Before he could mention adding milk or sugar, she lifted her cup and took a cautious sip. Darian winced, anticipating her reaction. Sure enough, her eyes watered as her face screwed up in disgust at the bitterness.

"Oh gods," she gasped. "You people drink this willingly? What is wrong with you?"

Darian burst out laughing, even while he mindspoke their server.

Alaia gave him a dirty look, pushing the cup away. "It's not funny—"

"I'm so sorry," Tay said, interrupting Alaia before she could give Darian the tongue-lashing he likely deserved. "Here, let me help you. Most of us prefer at least a little cream and sugar to soften the bitterness. Or I could bring you tea, if you'd rather not try again." They wrung their hands while they waited for Alaia's response.

"Oh no, it's not your fault," Alaia assured them. She shot another glare at Darian and reached for the small container of cream the server had brought. "How much should I add?

Darian was convinced there was more cream and sugar than coffee in Alaia's cup when she finished. By that time, their food had been delivered. Alaia looked at her plate of fluffy sweet bread topped with fresh fruit with something that actually resembled interest. She picked up her fork, then pointed it at Darian.

"Tell me, is there anything I need to add to this to make it not taste like burned charcoal steeped in hot water?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to stab me with that fork?"

"Only if you lie to me." She scowled, but there was a thread of amusement dancing between them, and Darian smiled.

Now

She rolled her eyes, turning to point her fork at Kiral. "Speak."

Kiral burst out laughing. "Bossy much, kaireda mia?"

"I'm not above stabbing you with this fork and making you squirm before I heal you," Alaia threatened, waving said fork around. "And what in the Mother's name did you just call me? At least your brother translates his sappy terms of endearment."

"I think you like my sappy terms of endearment, mi'alla," Darian said, squeezing her hip.

"Kaireda mia means dear sister," Kiral managed to choke out between bouts of laughter. "Now we've moved on to physical threats?"

Alaia lowered her fork, suddenly remembering the king and queen were at the table. She eyed them a little nervously, considering she'd just threatened to stab the crown prince.

Mariana caught her look, and smiled. "We don't hold titles in this room, kaireda. Besides, I'm sure Darian is thrilled to learn his mate is just as bloodthirsty as he is."

Elian chuckled. "Yes, Darian is pretty quick to draw his dagger. Kiral probably appreciates only being threatened with a fork."

"I do!" Kiral said, gasping for breath. "I appreciate it about as much as the offer to heal me after. Means I don't have to trail blood everywhere while I drag myself to the Hall of Healing."

[weirdgirl92]

Some info dumps on my Cuphead OCs

@firecurls-27 @nightmaretherabbit @marshmallow-biscuit-blog @zibiscusloon @anawkwardgalnamedtarazan @ur-typical-nerd @dnpanimationstudioclone

As you might already know, these past few months I’ve been stressing over how I’m going to introduce my Cuphead OCs here on this site, since: 1.) I have a LOT of Cuphead OCs, and 2.) I can’t draw for shit (literally, I only have one OC design finished so far). So, I’ve decided to suck it up, and just introduce most of them with only written descriptions for now.

((Remember what I said about having only one OC design completed so far? Well, this was the one I was talking about, and even then the wings don’t look quite right…))

Briar

A snarky, free-spirited forest sprite and my “main” Cuphead OC, who came from a hidden island called The Willow.

In sprite years, she’s 360 years old, which is basically 18 in mortal years (in my AU, a forest sprite ages every 20 years, which is the same amount of time a tree matures).

An outcast among her race, since she was “born different”. She can’t physically use magic to heal herself like other sprites can; and despite having plant magic, she’s really only able to conjure up mutant plants (and before you ask, no, this is NOT my fanon origin story for Cagney Carnation, though, Bry does kinda befriend him later on).

Has very unstable fire and hurricane powers that are only triggered when she’s very angry, which is why she always tries to keep her temper in check; she’s also the only sprite of her kind that can shape shift. There’s a reason for both of these things, which I can’t give away yet, because it’s a big spoiler.

Loves to play pranks on others, because it stems from a coping mechanism she’s had when other sprites would leave her out of “normal forest sprite activities”, since her magic was deemed too dangerous and unpredictable.

Initially runs away from home to find out more about her powers and where they actually came from, but ends up getting so wrapped up in her newfound freedom and finally settles down in Inkwell Isles, where she develops a huge fondness for jazz music and chocolate.

Is 4 inches tall at normal sprite height, but can make herself grow up to “human height” whenever she feels necessary to do so.

First time she met Cuphead and Mugman was sometime after the events of Sweater Luck Next Time. See, Mugs suggested he and Cups go on a relaxing camping trip together with Elder Kettle, to get his mind off The Devil; but during the night BEFORE that, Briar came across burnt remains of the forest that The Devil destroyed in his attempt to destroy the invisible sweater. This made her very frustrated, not just because of how long it’d take for one forest sprite to heal, but because of how limited her plant magic was. Then, after a miscommunication with the local forest animals, she mistakes Cuphead and Mugman for “that weird horned creature’s two little cohorts”. So, she used her powers to try and scare the two cups away from the forest they were camping in; but after realizing they were just kids who have an elderly caretaker, she revealed herself to them, explained her story and apologized for the misunderstanding.

When Briar first met The Devil, she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him, because she’s heard so many stories about a devil over the years, that she was kind of disappointed to find that he was nothing more than a fluffy noodle with a childish temper. This bruised his ego so much more, that he made it his mission to find out what her worst fear is (all while trying to snag Cuppy’s soul).

Eventually, she develops a very tsundere-ish crush on The Devil, but refuses to let anyone know about it.

She also gets along very well with Henchman, because of his gentle and unassuming nature, and because of his willingness to listen whenever something on her mind is bothering her (he’s such a mom friend, I swear).

Mother Nature

Guardian of The Willow and mother figure to all sprites who live there, including Briar.

Is a GIANT woman (I’m talking Cala Maria height).

Proper, elegant, usually soft-spoken, but can be very fierce and strict as well.

Has pale green skin, doe-like ears, forest green eyes, silver antlers; and long, wavy, floating hair that slowly changes to any color of the rainbow.

When she gets angry, however, her hair becomes a fiery orange-red and looks like the shape of a giant flame, while her antlers become sharper and more pointed.

Wears a long flowing dark green robe that accentuates her curves.

Is very adamant about Briar keeping her powers in check, even if it means having her sit quietly on the sidelines for a while as other forest sprites preform their daily tasks of keeping The Willow alive and growing.

Lord Apollyon

The Devil’s evil bastard of a father, and the demon of discord and destruction.

Used to be an angel before he got booted out of Heaven for rebelling against God, but as he fell, he split some of himself up into 7 more demons, which (in my personal headcanon) was how The Devil and his 6 brothers were born.

When all 7 his sons came of age, Apollyon gifted each one of them their own pitchfork, their own henchman demon, and their own “underworld” on Earth for them to rule over and spread out his evil….all except for young Lucifer (Devil), because he was much too small and weak. Though, after much begging and pleading from Luci, Apollyon nonchalantly gave him a pitchfork that was more unstable and hard to control, along with a fat clumsy purple henchman demon (whom Luci would eventually name “Henchman”, because he’s just so terrible with names).

His upper body resembles a Siberian tiger, but with pitch black fur and small white stripes, while his lower body resembles a black snake, and his wings are leathery torn up dragon wings.

His horns are silver and look like ram horns.

Has scarlet red dragon eyes.

His pitchfork is made of lead (I chose to make it that way, because lead symbolizes death and sin).

Asmodel

Is based on Asmodeus, the demon of lust.

Is a scarlet red demon whose head and torso resemble a dragon/goat hybrid. (( Basically, like this, but without the long fangs sticking out of the lower jaws:))

Has the legs of a dragon, tail of a scorpion, and arms that look like talons of a harris hawk.

Wears a dark cape decorated with two large skulls on the shoulders: a bull skull on the left, and a ram skull on the right; also wears a black furry loin cloth with a silver chain as the belt, and a tiny rat skull in the middle of it.

A total sleazebag, and womanizer. Briar is especially uncomfortable around him, because he’d tend to flirt with her right in front of The Devil, which in turn makes HIM very uncomfortable, and angry (though he swears it’s totally not out of jealousy, nope, not at all).

Extremely vain, and incredibly extra (which is pretty much why he wears a dramatic looking cape all the time).

Loves to gamble and was the original owner of the casino, before Devil won it from him in a game of poker (thanks to a little card trick King Dice taught him when they were young).

His pitchfork is made of antimony, since it’s a metal that symbolizes “animalistic urges”.

His henchman is a goat-legged imp named Deva.

Beez/Beelzebub

The demon of gluttony.

Looks like a giant, morbidly obese bat with orange fur, black horns, and bat wings that are orange on the outside and black on the inside.

Is very infamous for stealing people’s crops.

Has the ability to use his powerful breath to inhale and suck in anything he chooses to devour.

Commands an army of fly demons (and yes, I did base this off of actual demon myths of Beelzebub and the Order of the Flies).

His pitchfork’s made of brass, since brass symbolizes “abundance” in life.

His henchman’s an imp named Grub, who has a pig-like nose, pig-like ears, and tiny insect wings.

Maymun

Is based on Mammon, the demon of greed.

A wolf demon with charcoal colored fur, dark gold claws, long gold spikes on his elbows and shoulders, a long black dragon tail with tiny gold spikes, and ivory colored horns with gold tips on his head.

His eyes have a bronze colored sclera with golden amber irises.

Often disguises himself as a “normal-looking” anthropomorphic white wolf to scam unsuspecting mortals out of their riches.

Has tried to cheat The Devil out of his casino on occasion, but was unsuccessful each time.

Does NOT get along with Asmodel at all, mostly due to their common obsession with gambling.

His pitchfork’s made of copper, since copper is said to attract money and good fortune.

His henchman is a fox-eared, frog-legged imp named Mulciber.

Leviathan

Based on the envy demon of the same name.

Is a giant sea serpent with bluish-green scales, a silver underbelly, large transparent gills on the sides of his face, icy blue eyes, and emerald green horns.

Uses his roar as a siren call to command any sea creature to do his bidding.

Has the ability to breath fire under water.

He also eats electricity, and his tail can produce electric shocks to paralyze his victims.

Is bitter rivals with Cala Maria, because he wants to be known as the most fearsome creature in the ocean, and hates that she’s stealing his thunder.

His pitchfork’s made of blue cobalt, since cobalt is often considered an “ocean metal”.

His henchman’s a sea slug looking imp named Nudi.

Belial

The demon of wrath and Apollyon’s favorite son.

Is a crimson red dragon demon with black horns, small black spikes that go down from his neck, all the way to his tail; black claws, and piercing green eyes.

Usually prefers to work alone.

The other demon brothers really don’t like to talk about him that much, because they’re all terrified of him (including Devil).

His pitchfork’s made of iron, because iron represents aggression and primal rage.

Doesn’t have a henchman, but he does have a pet manticore that eats or attacks anyone he doesn’t like.

Belphy/Belphegor

The demon of sloth.

Resembles a giant light blue sloth with short dark blue horns, long razor sharp claws, and eyes that have a gray sclera with red irises.

Easily the laziest of the seven demon brothers.

Doesn’t usually take on a task unless if there’s something in it for him.

His claws can literally slice through anything.

Has the ability to enter people’s dreams, where he is most powerful (this idea I kinda stole from @anawkwardgalnamedtarazan, lol, sorry).

His henchman’s a bat-winged, donkey-eared imp named Almos.

His pitchfork’s made of magnesium, because it’s a metal that’s said to “relax the body and brain”, and induce sleep.

So, what do you guys think? Constructive criticism is welcome, of course, because there’s probably some things about these characters I might want to change in the future.

[uniquezombiedestiny]

POKES AT YOUR GLASS WINDOW. wound aaaand future for whichever ocs are cooking in your brain rn my liege

looked at these and went "ooooh youre really hitting with it huh?" and "well well well. time to get the bat"

(mae is getting the bat)

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

oooh.. ive been thinking of things like this for her tbh. the worst ending overall is one where angel (ill make a post for her after this!) wins them over entirely. angel lives in parabola, which is you get to by taking drugs (prisoner's honey), and she's a metaphor for addiction as a whole (last name is wormwood - used to make absinthe. she ultimately plans to steal mae's soul, which can lead to like. hollowness/becoming 'lifeless,' etc). oh also just. puts wireburn by valendar here. that's angel

skipping to the ending itself: mae is stuck in parabola. she is stuck with her sickly sweet lover who she's become dependent on. also thinking of angel making her physically weaker, either by continued used of prisoners honey or throuh other drugs or something (trope of being like. caretaken while you have a fever <3 then it turns sinister! yay!). fluffy domestic life stuff, but mae is usually tired/sick(?) or under the influence of drug #10395728. she's tired and hates ange... but also loves her. no, she hates her, no, but she loves her, no.... and she's too tired to think. she'd rathter just give in.

and as for leaving parabola: they can't due to her addiction to the honey! she always comes crawling back. it's pathetic. she tears the flowers and all their domestic pretend away, growing to hate angel and prisoners honey, and winds up coming right back. the cycle! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

mae tries to just grimace and work through it/ignore it. she keeps overworking herself into more wounds... looks at the times she's gotten wounds 6-7 and never taking the time to heal up. so her wounds are mostly physical (mental wounds are there but it's more one big incident rather than these repeated smaller ones).

the worst physical wound she's experienced is probably during her first death, flying into the eye. her airship was disintegrating, and the harsh ass wind blew her into it's side. the broken wood of the floor pierced her chest, which killed her. she also ripped an eye out before that. ouch

mentally.. the whole starved war. mae faced a lot of combat while flying, mainly flying away from ships as fast as possible, but sometimes they did have to fight or face death. on her 2nd to last flight - due to flying with wounds 7/overworking for so long - her ship barely made it out of an encounter with the starved men. lots of damage, nearly all the crew died, and mae herself almost died as well. basically a 50/50 chance to have succeeded on my last check to escape them.

and, ofc, on her next and final flight: the eye. she looked direclty into it as she flew into it and gained eldritch madness 🎉🎉🎉!! but really, both the war and the eye itself gave her ptsd/ocd. she has a religious relationship with it, as the unmaker of us that may return one day, and which.. possesses? her to suddenly want to get more knowledge. to see more, to learn more. and once she does, she will understand herself and be happy. (especially as her nightmares goes up, she starts betraying others for more knowledge)

the vast majority of that is mae coping 👍 the "i'll understand this one day" thing is so she doesnt have to look back at her problems. its her coping with them and the basis of her stability as a whole. so you can kinda see how altering it was for her

[mistresspandorawritesthings]

Songs About Getting By - The Encore Set

Let's close out 2022 with a bang.

The Encore Set is six fics, ranging from 100 to 5100 words, with varying moods ranging from fun and fluffy, to hot and steamy, to OW PAN WHY. Each fic has an accompanying song where the title comes from

They're all in the Songs About Getting By series, and you really can read them in any order, especially if you've already read This Ain't a Love Song and Take a Sad Song. There's a couple suggested reading orders for just the encore set below the cut.

Now. If you really want The Ultimate Reading Experience™ (let me be dramatic, okay?) I've done something kinda cool.

I've gone through the entire series, the two main stories and these encores, and added links that will let you skip around easily to read everything in perfect chronological order. Yes, even when the right order means leaving in the middle of a chapter and coming back.

Here's how the Ultimate Reading Experience works:

Start reading here: With Kaleidoscope Eyes. Whenever you see this link (highlighted for illustration purposes):

Click the link! You'll jump to the next scene chronologically, no matter what story it's in or where on the page you need to be. You'll end up reading every single word in perfectly chronological order.

As always, read the tags, heed the tags, they're there for your protection.

Here's the Encore Set List alphabetically:

Title: Hot Patootie Word Count: 744 Mood: Happy, fluffy, funny Song: "Hot Patootie" performed by Adam Lambert Summary: The best part of visiting your partner's family for the holidays is the photo albums. Jamie finds photographic evidence that John was not lying when he said he did burlesque once.

Title: In the Heat of the Day Word Count: 3599 Mood: Hot n' steamy, playful Song: "Still of the Night" performed by Sershen & Zaritskaya Summary: Jamie likes to wash his own car. John likes to watch.

Title: Make My Body Ache Word Count: 2515 Mood: Light angst, confused Song: "Rattlesnake Shake" by Motley Crue Summary: It wasn't the first time Jamie had spent the night in a jail cell, but it was the first time John was with him. It'd be a lot better if John wasn't giving him the silent treatment.

Title: My Soul is Painted Word Count: 3563 Mood: Moderately heavy angst*, healing ending Song: "The Show Must Go On" by Queen Summary: John Grey doesn't remember getting his first tattoo, but he hated it until Katie fixed it for him. She's the only person he would let turn his scars into art.

Title: There's a Devil in the Church Word Count: 5154 Mood: Heavy angst*, hard-fought hopeful ending, OW PAN WHY??? Song: "This Is Gonna Hurt" by Sixx AM Summary: It's much easier now for Grey to stay sober when life feels too hard to live through, but his alternative strategy isn't much better. Jamie helps him decide that enough is enough: no more scars.

Title: With Kaleidoscope Eyes Word Count: 100 Mood: Disoriented, light Song: "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" by The Beatles Summary: Young Jamie Fraser follows a strange man into an Edinburgh alley.

*Trigger/content warnings apply.

Start your Ultimate Series Reading Experience™ HERE, pick your poison from the alphabetical list above, or peek below the cut for a couple alternative reading orders. Have fun!

More or Less Chronologically:

With Kaleidoscope Eyes

Make My Body Ache

My Soul is Painted

Hot Patootie

There's a Devil in the Church

In the Heat of the Day

Shortest to Longest Word Count:

With Kaleidoscope Eyes

Hot Patootie

Make My Body Ache

My Soul is Painted

In the Heat of the Day

There's a Devil in the Church

Heaviest to Lightest Angst Level:

There's a Devil in the Church

My Soul is Painted

Make My Body Ache

With Kaleidoscope Eyes

In the Heat of the Day

Hot Patootie