#hmu if you need some more softness

[takes1]

p. 3 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

notes: genuinely very unsure of what direction to go in after this. if you feel so inclined, hmu and drop suggestions for what to do with the next one either under the post or in the: request box :)

warnings. sfw somehow, but suggestive themes so minors dni

details. sfw / questionable touching / bus ride / leg wrestling / unspoken feelings / change of pace / aggravated tsukki / implied virginity / 1.3k words

🤍 kei series. part one / part two / part four / FINAL PART / reply and get added to the taglist to get notifs for the next one!

more links. my ao3, my mha stuff haikyuu collection

Your eyes adjusted for a moment at the shift in brightness. That gaunt, gangly son of a bitch was backlit by the bus lights and towered over you in the center aisle.

"Move over," He muttered, blunt and singularly unhappy.

With an anguished scan of the rest of the packed bus over your seat, it was clear that there was no other option. You didn't have the luxury of time to think of a better solution than to haul yourself up and slump into the window seat.

"Oh my god." Fell from your lips in a tiny, defeated groan.

Your desolate sighs as you both sat down were nearly identical to one another. The bus started moving. This would be your harsh reality for the next two hours.

After a moment of trying to mess with his new seat, he pressed his hips as far back as they could go and still had one knee out of the aisle -unable to fit behind the chair in front of him- and one clacked against yours.

His size pissed you off. Common sense reminded you that it wasn't his fault, but so often did he make it your problem that it was nearly automatic to become enraged as soon as he inconvenienced you.

With an annoyed huff, you pushed his leg back out of your space with your own.

Narrowed eyes pierced to your direction, but you were already staring out of the window. The parking lot would soon be far away.

He forced his thigh back open, further into your side this time, and matched your infuriated gaze with a signature smirk.

The bus jolted to a stop and it gave you the momentum you needed to return the same proportion of strength. His knee caught on the fabric of the forward seat.

You both stared at each other with the same fierce intensity.

It was a silent, concentrated, but inevitably short struggle for leg space as soon as the bus started moving again.

Of course Tsukishima had you squished against the cold, metal lining of the wall in the end. He wasn't just skinny- this bleak reminder rang in your mind as you gave him one last nasty look over your shoulder. 

He wore a pleased expression. Soft, proud smile and a look that told you, "Nice try."

Right on the heels of his latest ordeal, this seemed all too calculated to you.

Just at the last practice, he made some snotty remark and, to your delight, was overheard by Coach Ukai. Instead of punishing Tsukishima himself, he let you do it. One lap of diving drills shut him up quickly but left him extremely standoffish (somehow more than usual) until now. If he even caught you giving him a passing glance, it was like he radiated a nuclear field of animosity.

The only saving grace from this otherworldly arrogance was that fact that it was still dark outside, and you both wanted sleep. If the sun wasn't even up, how could you keep the motivation to care?

So it faded after ten minutes. He had his eyes closed, arms crossed, but you weren't foolish enough to think him asleep just yet.

You loosened up a bit and reached to the floor for your bag, where your earbuds were-- but it wasn't there.

It was still on the floor under his legs. You sat back up, crushed, but kept watching him to see if there was a chance you could retrieve it in peace.

He wasn't moving. He hadn't for a while, now. Besides, what was he gonna do anyway? Not let you get your bag? Coach Ukai was sitting in front of you; Daichi and Suga were behind you.

So without warning, you carefully reached across his bulky thigh and stretched to grab for your bag on the floor, closer to the aisle.

The journey was more difficult than you thought.

It was like a giant bar you had to push your torso over- and even then it wasn't stable with the bus moving, so you had to use a hand on his upper thigh to steady yourself.

And: even though he was relaxed, it didn't have any give. So when your weight shifted onto your chest, it stung.

Still, the attempt was successful and you dropped back into your seat once more.

While you reached for the pocket your earbuds resided in, you spared a peek in his direction. The sight brought out an uncontrollable chuckle.

His arms were no longer comfortably crossed, but raised up to his chest individually, and his hands were splayed in a natural off-guard response. You caught him just in time to watch him close his mouth into a tight line, though it showed the same amount of emotion an open one would have- and his eyes were wide, somewhat worried, as what was evident to be a million thoughts racing through his head.

It was profoundly clear to you then that he had never known the touch of a woman.

"Wow," You laughed, though it was hardly louder than your whisper, "Relax."

His cover-up was awkward and rushed. "You could've just asked me to get it."

He faced away from you, arms crossing once more, but his shoulders were raised and he even moved his leg further towards himself.

As surprised as you were that you found this reaction to be so endearing, maybe even cute, you were more surprised that you wanted to keep eliciting it from him. The embarrassment made him redeemable, in some way.

"Why is it such a big deal?" You grinned, putting in your earbuds.

It was too often that this was the other way around. He couldn't exactly handle what he dished out, and that piqued your interest.

His head whipped around to deliver a merciless look, but when he landed on your small, intrigued smile, he found that he didn't have the strength.

His face twitched with effort for a moment. No shitty remark? No scowl for you? Not even a frown?

He turned to the aisle and by the time he came up with an answer, you were already starting to fall asleep against the window.

taglist:

thanks for the support!!! ya'll are awesome

@hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone

@beaniedoodz @idiotboys @djmoyolehuani

[jo6hny]

Casual - Hazel Callahan

Pairing: College student! Hazel Callahan x College student! Reader 

Contains: the angst that comes with a “casual” relationship, some fluff, a smidge of smut (for the plot), reader’s kind of an asshole in this, happy ending!! 

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: Hazel and Reader are in a “casual” relationship.  Based on Chappell Roan’s song!

A/N: First time writing wlw please spare me and i also haven't written in a long time so :< I also take requests for hazel and kit, my inbox is open and i also need mutuals so hmu pls :)) 

Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out Is it casual now?

“Seriously, Hazel. Get a grip, she’s using you.” PJ rolled her eyes at the brunette after having to listen to the same story about you for nth time. It was always like this. She always yapped to her friends about how you made her feel in love but conflicted. How she never knew what your relationship was and how she could never find her grip over you loosening. 

Josie nods at PJ's statement. She knew that her friend could use better words especially since Hazel is sensitive, but she needed the truth. They were both tired of giving the latter hints. Josie especially couldn’t help but feel hurt on Hazel’s behalf after she’d heard about your ongoing “casual” relationship. 

“I don’t know guys,” Hazel trails off, fidgeting with her rings. “Maybe tonight will be different. I’ll have the courage to ask her about us again and we’re gonna be official. I know it.” 

The two girls couldn’t help but sigh at their friend’s hopelessness. But they couldn’t do anything but be supportive. They’ve tried their best to warn her about the dangers of being with you and yet nothing seemed to faze the blue eyed girl. She didn’t care, she was in love. She looked at you like you were the universe. It didn’t matter that you keep brushing her off whenever she asks about your relationship. It didn’t matter that she’s met half of your family but you only introduced her as a “friend” No, none of it mattered to her. What mattered was that she was in your orbit; that you saw her. 

2 years ago she would have never dreamed that you would spare her a glance. You were never the type to date losers. And yet here she was, knee deep in the passenger seat of her car, eating you out and having the time of her life. Hazel lapped up your juices, not wasting a drop. The brunette swore to herself that she would never get tired of how you tasted. How soft you felt under her palms. 

“Fuck Hazel, right there.” You moaned, gripping her hair as you found release. 

The younger girl looks at you with a sense of pride as she props herself up on her elbows. You take a hand and caress the sweet girl’s cheek, looking at her with admiration. 

“Did I do good?” She asks with a seemingly innocent tone. Oh, how sweet she was. How kind. It broke your heart to lead such a good person on. 

You nodded, adjusting your clothes and sitting up. The brown haired girl sat next to you on the driver’s seat. She looked nervous, like she was bottling something up. 

“Is something bothering you?” 

Hazel sucks a breath in. She was fidgeting with her rings and that’s how you knew that she was nervous about something. You put your hand on top of hers to calm her down. 

“It's just that,” She starts, not able to make eye contact with you, “I wanted to ask you something if that’s okay.” 

You purse your lips. You know where this was going. She was going to ask about your relationship again. You didn’t have it in you to break her heart today. Not when she just gave you the best head of your life. But you couldn’t exactly give her what she wanted. It wasn’t that easy. You adored Hazel more than anything in the world, and she meant more to you than any other person did. But you couldn’t bring yourself to make things official. It was all too real, too heavy. Being vulnerable and leaving your heart’s responsibility to another person was something you just couldn’t do. You couldn’t afford another heartbreak. It’s not like Hazel would, though. You knew that she would treat you well, but you couldn’t promise the same for her. 

“Hazel, baby.” You said, giving her hand a squeeze. “If this is about what I think it is, I’m sorry. I can’t give you an answer today. But you know what you mean to me.” 

Hazel nods, biting her lip as she tries to fight off tears. You could feel a crack forming in your heart at the sight of your girl with glassy eyes.

“It’s okay.” She breathed. It was not. But she had to pretend that it was. She didn’t want to lose you. She knew that many others sought after you. So she nods and she smiles. 

────────────────────────────────────────────

Hazel settles into class and takes a seat next to PJ and Josie. The pair looked at her expectantly and she could only give them a sad stare. They already knew what happened from the looks of the brown haired girl. The campus crush strikes again. Hazel spends the rest of the class with her mind not on the lesson, but on your relationship. Dark thoughts started to muddle her mind, she wondered what was wrong with her, why it was so hard for you to give her a chance. 

PJ puts a hand on her shoulder, shaking her out of her trance. 

“Hey, we’re going to the cafe and maybe study, you wanna come with?” She asks, both her and Josie look at her with sympathy. This was the only way they knew how to cheer their friend up. Neither were the type to be touchy or give words of assurance. Plus, they knew Hazel wouldn’t want anyone else but you to touch her anyway. 

Hazel simply nods, not having the energy to respond verbally. 

They head to the cafe nearest to their building and occupy a table near a window. This was your table. Well, both of yours. Hazel brought you here the first time she asked you out and it became your meetup destination from then on. 

Josie sets a drink in front of her and takes a seat across the table.Her friends look at her expectantly. They want to know what went down, expectedly. Hazel doesn’t know if she has the courage to tell her friends about her rejection. It wasn’t like this was the first time anyway, but it still hurt. She can’t help but feel ashamed of her hubris, how she spoke highly of herself and how sure she was that this would be the time you would change her mind only for her to come back like a scared dog with her tail tucked between her legs. It’s like she never learned when it came to you. 

Hazel opens her mouth, racking her brain for words to describe what went on yesterday. 

“Well-” 

“Shut up.”  PJ interjects, looking at something behind Hazel. Something beyond the window and on the outside of the cafe. 

“What’s going on?” She asks nervously. 

Josie gives her a disappointed look, nodding her head towards where PJ was staring. It was you. With a girl who wasn’t her. Now, she wouldn’t immediately assume malicious things whenever she sees you with someone else but this time it was different. You had your arm wrapped around the woman and the both of you were smiling at some stupid thing she couldn’t comprehend. Hazel’s body started to feel warm and tears started to well in her eyes. She felt stupid. Her lip quivered and she was holding back a sob. 

“We should go.” Josie says with caution. Her friend takes her hand and leads her outside away from the cafe. Away from you. 

“I’m sure that was nothing.” PJ says, which was very unlike her. Usually, she’d take this as an opportunity to spew insults and talk about how you were using her. How people saw Hazel as some girl that you fuck on her couch. But this time she chose to bite her tongue. She already saw how broken her friend was and she didn’t want to add to it. Especially not since Hazel was the only person left in the friend group without a solid relationship. 

“Right.” Hazel choked out. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. If she spoke, she was sure that it would continue on to a sob. The blue eyed girl didn’t want to break out sobbing in front of so many people. But she couldn’t help the hurt she felt. 

────────────────────────────────────────────

It’s been a week since the incident. Hazel was ignoring you. She didn’t need Josie or PJ’s words to convince her to do it this time. The hurt in her heart was enough. Though she couldn’t deny that it was difficult to do. You would hit her up and all she could do was ignore you. A small voice inside Hazel was deluding her, telling her that you care because you didn’t stop messaging her. But she knew better. Just then, her phone pings and it was another text from you. 

MY girl (mine): baby are you okay? It’s been a week. i’m worried about you, yk.  MY girl (mine): text me back, okay?  MY girl (mine): i miss you. 

Hazel groans at the last message you sent. You certainly knew how to reel her in. Did you actually miss her? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give you a bit of an update. No. She had to stay strong. This relationship had dragged on for too long. She was going crazy without confirmation from you. She needed security, stability. She needed you to tell her that you wanted her. But she knew better. The brunette throws her phone across her bed and decides to continue ignoring you. 

Just then, a knock on her door interrupts her train of thought. Hazel’s stomach drops and she feels nervous for no reason. Her mind was feeding her delusions again. What if it was you? Had you come to check up on her? The knocking continues and she forces herself to get out of bed to make way towards the door. Her hand hovers over the doorknob, she didn’t know how to feel if it was you on the other side and if it weren’t. She’d been doing so well at staying away, but her being called for you. Every part of her being yearned for your touch, for your voice, for you.

“Hazel? It’s me.” Your voice is muffled by the door but she definitely knew that it was you. Her heart jumped, her pulse was racing. Her mind was screaming right now. So you did come to see her! She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of your concern. Maybe you did care for her, maybe a part of you felt the same. 

She wiped the smile off her face before opening the door. She didn’t want you to see how excited she was. Not that it wasn’t obvious from how she glowed. 

“Hey.” She greeted, opening the door a bit too excitedly. “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see you. You’ve been ignoring me.” You reply, looking at her with a bit of hurt. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got sick.” She lies, fake coughing. Hazel couldn’t help but feel guilty. She couldn’t tell you the truth, though. She wasn’t very confrontational and she was too scared that you’d shut her down. All she wanted right now was to bask in your presence and let herself enjoy the fact that you went out of your way to see her. 

“Aw, you should have told me, Haze. I would have brought you meds too.” The brunette looks down and sees your hand with a plastic bag full of what she assumes are snacks. 

“Are those for me?” Hazel replies with shock and fascination. You’d never done anything like this for her before. This caught her off guard. Usually it was her that did all the effort but here you were with all her favorite snacks. Her heart warmed at the thought. Maybe PJ and Josie were wrong about you. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Obviously, dummy. Can I come in?” 

The blue eyed girl nods and lets you in. You settle on her bed and put the plastic bag full of Hazel’s favorite snacks and drinks on her desk. It took you a bit longer to come visit Hazel than you’d intended. You were well aware that she was ignoring you and that she was lying to your face. But you couldn’t blame her. She must have had her reasons and you knew that you were a major part of it. You felt guilty. Hazel didn’t deserve to be stringed around like a rag doll, but you couldn’t let her go either. Which is why you swallowed your pride and came over to hers with all her favorite snacks. You didn’t even have to make an effort on remembering what she liked because it was all ingrained in your mind. If it were any other girl, you would have let them stay away but Hazel was different. 

“Do you feel okay now?” 

“Uhm…yeah. I guess.” 

You pout, not knowing what to say to her. Instead, you pat the empty spot beside you and gesture for her to sit. Hazel takes the cue and as soon as she does, you wrap your arms around her. 

“I missed you, Haze.” You whisper, burying your nose on the crook of her neck. She smelled good, clean. She smelled like home. 

Hazel’s arms tighten around you as she reciprocates the feelings. You feel a weight fall off your shoulders, one that you never knew you had. It was always so easy to be with her. Sure, she was sometimes awkward, and sometimes she yapped a lot, but she was your girl. She felt like a warm cozy day in bed. She enveloped your mind and senses and it scared you dearly. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, Haze. I know you aren’t sick.” You mumble, holding her tighter. 

Your lover sighs and takes a minute before replying. Your heart was pounding. 

“I saw you the other day near the cafe.” She trails off, rubbing her palms on your back. “You were with a girl.” 

“It was a friend.” You reply, cutting off allegations before Hazel could make them. You knew where this was going.

“I knew that,” She says, giving you a reassuring smile. “I told PJ and Josie that too.” 

Hazel felt as if that wasn’t true, but she didn’t want to ruin the mood. It’s not every day that she has you in her dorm room all to herself. And it wasn’t like you two were a thing anyway. The thought of your relationship seemed to dampen her mood even more. The brunette couldn’t help but noticeably frown. 

You lifted your head from her embrace and looked at her, your eyebrows furrowed.  

“There’s something else that’s bothering you. I can feel it.” 

“It’s just…” She starts, readying herself for what she was about to say. She really couldn’t hold it in any longer. Hazel could just not get why you two couldn’t become official. 

“Don’t you want to be mine? Or like each others” 

Your face feigns confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, girlfriends.” She shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not like we don’t already do couple-y things, you know.” 

“Hazel,” you sigh. “Please don’t start.” 

“I love you.” She blurts out. You could feel your breath hitch and your palms grow cold. This couldn’t be happening right now. Your chest tightens at her confession and you feel sorry for her. No words could leave your mouth right now and all you could do was stare. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, noticing the lack of response. 

You put a hand on her cheek. 

“No, baby. Don’t apologize.” She looks at you with her big blue eyes that were filled with regret and sadness. Hurt filled your chest as you saw how tears started to fill her eyes. 

Letting go of your embrace, she said, “I just don’t get it. I don’t get why you don’t want me.” 

“Haze, that’s not true at all. You know that. I do want you.” You counter, trying to get her to look at you. 

“Then why can’t you admit it? Why can’t you commit to loving me?” She shoots back at you, her voice cracked. 

A lump formed in your throat and you couldn’t find the words. It’s not that you didn’t love her, you did, with all of your being. But you couldn’t commit to being with her because of how afraid you were to hurt her. Hazel wasn’t like you. She’s pure, kind, and thoughtful. You on the other hand had a reputation for breaking hearts. You simply couldn’t bear the thought of breaking her heart. Being with you meant people would judge her more than she already was. More than you already were. 

“Please leave.” She whispers as she takes your hand off her cheek. The sound of her sniffles filled the room. 

“I’m really sorry, Haze.” You mutter, getting up. Maybe giving her space would be the right thing to do. Hazel deserved better than a girl like you, after all. She would be better off with someone who’d be proud to love her. 

────────────────────────────────────────────

Hazel looked at her phone for the nth time today, hoping that she might catch a stray message from you. Unfortunately, you seemed better off without her as she hadn’t received anything for the past two weeks. She even texted once and you didn’t even read the message. 

The brunette groans into her pillow. She regretted ever pushing it with you. Honestly, she wished that she kept her mouth shut. Maybe you’d still be in bed with her if she had. But a part of her was relieved. Relieved that at least everything’s clearer now to her and she managed to say what she always has. Hazel loved you more than anything in the world. More than her stamp collection and that says something. But she knew when to let go and wave the white flag. She couldn’t keep going in the relationship blind and not knowing what to do. Though, a small part of her still puts up hope that maybe one day you’ll choose her. Maybe. 

Her phone pings just then and her head shoots up. Hope fills her heart up as she looks at the notifications on her screen. 

MY girl (mine): Hey! Sorry I didn’t reply to your texts. LOL. I think I’m ready to be girlfriends now :))  Come over to the party over at Isabel’s later? 

Hazel frowned. Something wasn’t right. There was a tugging at her stomach that told her to be careful, but it was quickly overridden with excitement. 

Hazel: sure bby ill be there!! see u <33 MY girl (mine): Great :)) 

She arrives over at Isabel’s after a good fifteen minute walk. Hazel slowed herself down, she didn’t want to seem too eager to see you. Plus, she wanted to rehearse the potential conversation in her head before she saw you. In her hands was a bouquet of flowers and a handwritten letter that she wrote when she first met you. It was full of adoration and compliments about how captivating you were and how you captured the girl’s heart. To say she was excited was an understatement. The day was finally here. You two would be official. 

“Hey Haze!” Isabel greets her as she makes her way to the door. 

She waves her hand at her and asks your whereabouts. Isabel tells you that you’re over at her room, something about needing to lie down because your social battery is low. Hazel chuckled at that and thought about how you and her were similar in many ways.

Making her way upstairs, she rehearsed every talk point she wanted to bring up. Her hands were sweaty and her heart pounded but she was feeling optimistic. 

Standing in front of Isabel’s room door, she takes the knob and opens it. Her heart drops at the sight in front of her. There you were kissing the girl she saw you with near the cafe. Tears  flooded her eyes as she choked up a sob. 

The sound of Hazel’s sob alerts you and you push the girl away. 

“Hazel, oh my god. It’s not what you think-” 

The blue eyed girl storms out of the house faster than you could finish the sentence. You run after her but not before slapping your friend. She kissed you without prior knowledge and somehow you had a feeling that she might be the reason why Hazel was here. 

Catching up to your lover, you spot her walking away from Isabel’s house. 

“Hazel, wait! Please.” You pleaded, grabbing her arm. Tears were also evident in your eyes. Somehow you knew that this moment would define the way Hazel saw you and it burned you with agony. 

“You lied to me!” She yelled, not being able to contain her feelings anymore. She had always tried to be patient and kind. It was never in her nature to yell or be aggressive but this time all of the anguish inside of her built up and she couldn’t help but lash out. 

“Hazel I didn’t know you would be here and it’s not what it looks like, please.” You sob, pleading with her. She didn’t seem to believe you. Her eyes were filled with hurt and doubt. 

“You-” She said in between sobs, “You said you wanted to be with me. That you wanted to be together. You lied.” 

“Baby, I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m sorry.” You said. 

Hazel takes her phone out of her pockets and shoves her phone in front of you. There, you saw a text from your number but it was not written by you.  You were right. Your friend did set the whole thing up. Disbelief filled your senses at the betrayal. You knew she had a thing for you but you couldn’t believe that she would do such a thing like this. Everyone knows not to approach you especially because they’ve seen you with Hazel and because you reject anyone else. 

“Do you know what they call me? They call me some girl you fuck on the side. I can’t believe I let this go on for so long, I feel so stupid.” She said, her voice breaking at every word. Hazel’s words were filled with venom and each felt like poison injecting itself in your bloodstream. The day you feared had come to be. In an attempt to run away and shield her, you broke her heart without notice and without care. 

“Hazel, I’m so sorry. You’re more than that to me, you know that.” 

“Just because you say that doesn’t mean I feel it.” 

It felt like something sharp struck your chest. How could you be so blind? You thought that keeping her at arms length would be the safest thing to do. But now you see your lover as she breaks in front of you. 

“You’re not stupid,” You say as you get closer to her. “And I do love you, Haze.” 

At that, Hazel froze. She didn’t know if she heard it correctly. But she did. Did she? It felt like a trick on her mind. The girl’s brows furrowed and her mouth hung ajar. 

“Do you really?” She whispers, scared that if she said anything louder that everything would disrupt. She was afraid that she was dreaming. 

You nod, wrapping your arms around her chest. 

“More than anything in the world, Haze.” 

Hazel looks at you, searching your eyes for any signs of trickery and lies. But all she could see was sincerity. 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. I thought that it would be better for the two of us if we weren’t anything. I thought people would judge less. Stupid on my part, I know.” You apologize, breaking eye contact. 

“You’re not stupid.” She assures, her tone was soft and kind. 

“I kind of am.” You sniffle, giving her a shy smile. It was time to face your fears. You couldn’t handle seeing Hazel hurt and you had to admit that your heart screamed for her. It was as if you were made on this earth to love and care for her. 

“It’s okay, I am too.” She reassures you and it makes you laugh. Hazel smiles at hearing your laughter. 

“So where do we go from here? Girlfriends?” 

Hazel purses her lips, thinking about your friend she caught you in a lip lock with. 

“I don’t know, what about the person you were kissing earlier?” 

“That was nothing,” You said, shaking your head, “She was jealous of you. And she was the one that sent you that text. I’m so sorry for roping you in this, Haze.” 

“It’s okay.” She replies, Hazel believed in you. Her gut was right about that text message. Next time she saw that “friend” of yours she was sure to put a punch in. She hadn’t forgotten about her days at the fight club after all. Maybe she should put her skills back to good use. 

“So…” You trail off, cutting her thoughts off. 

“Girlfriends?” She asks, retracting from your arms and handing you the flowers and letter she had. 

You beamed at the brunette and nodded eagerly,  “If you want me to be.”

Hazel looks at you, bewildered. 

“What? of course I want you to be.” She said, not catching your teasing tone. This makes you laugh at how adorable she was. 

“Never mind.” You reply as you lean closer, putting your lips on hers. The kiss was eager but definitely not rough. It was a kiss shared between lovers that have reconnected. Lovers who finally bared their hearts with each other. It was soft, beautiful, and it made your head dizzy. 

“I love you, Haze.” You said in between kisses. Hazel smiles and continues kissing you. 

In the far distance, two girls had their eyes set on you from the beginning as the fight between you and Hazel ensued. They were both taking bets on what the outcome would be. When you kissed and made up, the other had to pay up. 

“Damn, I didn’t think they’d actually end up together.” PJ said disappointedly as she rummaged her pockets for twenty dollars that she lost to Josie. 

“I told you, dumbass. They have the hots for each other.” Josie replied, not revealing that Isabel told her all about how you wanted to be with Hazel but couldn’t because of your issues. She admits that she was iffy about you at first but now that she saw you going after Hazel, she decided that you weren’t that bad after all. Though, that was something she’d keep to herself. For now though, she’s enjoying her victory and beaming with pride as her friend finally gets the girl. 

[lilacliquors]

pairing: bi-han x reader

sweet or spicy: sweet

word count: 728

prompt: [  OVERHEARD  ]: sender reveals that they’re in love with the receiver to a third party, not realizing that the receiver, while out of sight, has just overheard the confession. - bi - han x reader

notes: here's day five of the sweet and spicy special! we've got some fluffy bi-han goodness that definitely takes place before bi-han's betrayal, and i had such a fun time writing this &lt;3 even though i didn't want to use [y/n] and did my best to avoid it. that being said, if anyone would like a part 2 to this, just, you know, hmu ;)

your first time visiting outworld was everything you had ever dreamed it would be. everything around you was so vibrant, you couldn’t help but be amazed with it all. as part of liu kang’s security, you, along with the lin kuei brothers, stuck together while earthrealm’s champion and the others prepared for the tournament ahead. 

as it was tradition, there was a celebratory feast to welcome you all as guests, and to properly start the tournament, and it would be the one time you all got to unwind before you had to be on high alert. you and the brothers were sitting a bit farther away from the other earthrealmers, but still close enough if you were needed. 

“have you had any of the wine?” tomas asked you, offering you a glass.

“should we? i feel like this might be stronger than anything back home. can we really risk the possibility—”

“we’ll be fine,” bi-han interjected, his deep voice rumbling through you.

“well, maybe you will be. some of us don’t have fancy ice powers,” you said, smiling a bit. he looked away from you, and in the glow of the beautiful lights surrounding the tables, you swore his cheeks looked flushed. you and tomas shared a look, and you shrugged your shoulders before taking a glass of wine and sipping it slowly, determine to nurse it for the rest of the night.

once the feast was finished, and you were all heading off to your chambers, you took a small detour to wander the gardens. empress sindel had given you permission, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever get the chance to explore again, so you took the opportunity eagerly. as you walked around, you gazed at the flora, enchanted by its beauty. it was so strange to think that there were millions, perhaps billions, of people who would never know that outworld, and all of its beauty, existed. yet you were one of the lucky ones. as you continued on your walk, you could hear voices engaging in conversation, and you couldn’t help yourself. you were silent as you crept closer, and as the voices became more distinct, you could just make them out.

“... need to be honest with yourself, brother,” kuai liang’s voice was soft.

“there is nothing to be honest about. you’re looking too deeply into matters that simply do not exist,” bi-han replied, his voice gruff.

“nonsense. i saw the way you gazed at them during the feast. let yourself experience a bit of joy, bi-han. this life is short, and i don’t think father—”

“father wouldn’t know how to discuss this, nor would he care to.”

“i’m afraid i’ll have to disagree. you’ll remember how much he loved mother. of all his teachings, perhaps that is the one you should think about.”

you crept closer, your curiosity getting the better of you. the brothers were discussing … love? it was strange enough to think about either of them being in love, they were so honor bound, wrapped up in their duties, especially bi-han as he wore the mantle of grandmaster. but he would be needing heirs some day, so maybe the idea wasn’t too far fetched. and for some reason, it made you … sad.

“i don’t need to embarrass myself, kuai liang,” bi-han muttered. “as grandmaster, it would not do me any favors to make a fool of myself.”

“but you admit that, in order to make a fool of yourself, there’s … something there?” kuai liang asked, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. there were some faint grumblings, and then a quiet groan of frustration.

“yes. there is something there. i … i’ve fallen in love with them. and the way they looked in the glow of the lights, their laughter tonight, their smile … i couldn’t bear to lose it. yet i cannot face the shame and sting of rejection if they don’t feel the same,” he said, and his voice was the softest you’d ever heard. but above all of that … he was in love with you.

and you couldn’t say a word. you couldn’t let them know you had been eavesdropping. you couldn’t just pop out and present yourself. no, he had to come to you organically. and as you crept away from the brothers, you found yourself hoping that he did.

[luciferscowgirl]

Okay, let’s make this a ✨masterlist✨

My most recent/ongoing work:

Never to Return - Catholic virgin fem OC x Cardinal Copia (let’s call it a slowburn maybe?) // most recent chapter here 🔞

(If you want to be included in a tag list concerning this ongoing series, hmu!)

My most recent one shot: here

Dom Cardinal Copia:

In the name of Distraction - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he is a brat tamer in this.)

La piccola morte - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he helps you deal with a bad dream in his own ways.)

You and Me and the Devil makes Three - 2nd person fem POV x fem oc x Cardinal Copia (he likes to watch you watch him. A threesome.)

“This might’ve been a little bit too much” - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (Copia is not amused and he’s going to punish you for it.)

“Mangiamo!” - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he’s a bit switchy in this, but that’s your fault.)

One Morning with Cardinal Copia - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he’s a soft dom in this, and he woke up horny.)

Lay all your Love on me - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (flash fic. He’s a soft dom and makes sure to kiss you properly before he goes all the way)

Morning Indulgence - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (a lovely somno fic. You wake up needy for the Cardinal. Soon, the two of you are busy waking each other up.)

Showtime - 2nd person fem POV x Papa/Cardinal Copia (established relationship. Copia is a lil jealous and wants to show you who you belong to. He also likes boxing, as it seems.)

One out of Three - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia x Special Ghoul (established relationship with Cardinal Copia. You two are getting a little freaky with a Ghoul. Copia takes the reins in this little adventure of yours. It’s also very gay in a way.)

Your Infernal Majesty - 3rd person fem x Cardinal Copia/Dracopia (CW/TW: NonCon stuff! | Year 1350. A young, untouched woman follows the mysterious Cardinal back to his mansion out of sheer curiosity, and what happens is something she is not going to remember.)

The Wedding - 2nd person fem x Cardinal Copia (TW/CW: mentions of alcohol consumption. | Basically the two of you attend a wedding and get freaky in public. Established relationship. Copia talks dirty. He teases. He edges. He’s a sexy asshole in this one.)

Little Miss Innocent - 1st person fem pov x Cardinal Copia (oc is super bratty. Kind of a rage fuck. Copia is upset and makes her pay for it.)

Play The Way You Feel It - 2nd person fem pov x Cardinal Copia (CW/TW: dubious consent! | Copia is plagued by some dreams he’s been having. His fleshlight isn’t enough to mend the yearning…)

Sub Cardinal Copia:

An ice-capped Fire - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (Copia is a whiny, pleading little whore in this short one shot.)

Divine you feel my Thrust - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he’s whiny again. And also, you indulge in some nice butt stuff.)

In return, you gave them Hell - Copia‘s POV x 3rd person female OC (power struggle. It contains some pole dancing. And restraints.)

Papa Emeritus IV:

For a Minute - 2nd Person female POV x Papa Emeritus IV (let’s find out what happens on that couch during Miasma, huh? Disclaimer: possible ghovie spoiler)

Ficlets:

Letters from Copia - Cardinal Copia POV x 2nd person gen. (Copia writes you a letter while he’s away on tour. Please be so kind and open it, he’s yearning and needs you to read it.) M-Rated.

Fics with more than one chapter:

If I could turn back the Time… - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (my first fic ever. Never intended to write more than one part. I add to them whenever I see fit. // Reader basically meets her old flame after ten years of not having been able to see him.)

Until you’re Mine - 2nd person fem POV x Dracopia ! (Reader goes on an adventure to meet the Cun-, the Count and it’s oddly Bram Stoker’s Dracula coded.)

Never to Return - 3rd person catholic virgin OC POV x Cardinal Copia (Alice is a catholic woman who lives a pious life, well, does she really? Because one errant night, she meets a mysterious, satanic man who’s gonna help her with exploring new shores…)

The Wedding - 2nd person female POV x Cardinal Copia (The Cardinal and you are invited to your cousin’s wedding. Copia didn’t want to go, but after a little negotiation you managed to bring him with you. You didn’t think he’d actually do what he wanted to do, though…)

My Wattpad account:

I’m slowly but surely transferring all my fics from Wattpad to AO3 so there might still me some which I haven’t uploaded on AO3 yet, like this one for example.

Copia is quite the violent dom in there.

Thank you all for reading my silly little stories! 💓💓💓

Here’s a photo of the man I am definitely not obsessed with 🤥:

[fairyhaos]

. ˚ in my arms

requested by @cinnamoroxie : seungkwan legit so good when you’re having a panic attack, he’ll sit down w you and rub your back, go thru breathing exercises, and also hes such a good listener 💔

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship

word count: 1792

warnings: descriptions of panic attack/ meltdown

notes: if someone knows where to find a seungkwan then pls hmu i need one asap actually

summary: seungkwan has always admired your ability to keep calm, but when the moment comes that you need someone to fall into, he'll always be ready to offer his arms.

You've been locked away in your room for several hours now, and Seungkwan is more than a little worried. 

It's early June, and exams are in full swing. In the weeks of revision leading up to this, he's seen you be relatively calm, perhaps a little more snappish and tense than usual, but still rather put together and composed. 

Your composure, your ability to not dissolve into an inconsolable ball of stress while preparing for exam weeks, is something that Seungkwan is still so in awe of.

However, that doesn’t mean you don’t have meltdowns of your own.

He’s seen them before—the aftermath of them, that is, after having come home to you surrounded by your friends on the couch, watching ‘Legally Blonde’ for the twentieth time with swollen eyes and a sniffly nose and a smile on your face. You never like to talk about it afterwards, but he knows. 

Seungkwan can recognise the post-breakdown signs. Sometimes he gets like that too.

But even so, he’s never been there to witness you going through it. As the minutes tick by, with you barely even having come out of your room once since this morning, it’s safe to say his worry has gone from just a little to rather extreme.

That’s why right now, he’s standing outside your door, a plate of biscuits in his hands. He’s been here for several minutes now, just staring at the door, wondering whether he should knock or go in.

He respects your unspoken want for some personal space today, but if that personal space manifests itself as self-quarantining and possibly driving you to your own insanity, then he’s not quite sure if he should respect that.

He’s still outside your door, just staring at the painted wooden structure—it’s a nice white, maybe a little yellowed with age, but still nice—when the door suddenly swings open, and he’s met with your surprised face.

“Kwan?”

Seungkwan blinks, and then softens, seeing the way your hair is all messed up and your shoulders are sagged with exhaustion, holding up the plate like a peace offering. “Hi baby. I come with hugs and cookies. Would you care for some?”

Your eyes immediately go to the plate and then to his face, and something in your eyes looks like it’s trembling. His own eyes immediately widen, concerned.

“Y/N? Y/N, love, are you okay?”

And then, abruptly, you burst into tears.

He’s stepping towards you instantly, one hand automatically coming up to cradle the back of your head as you hold a hand over your mouth, sinking to the floor. As you go down, he goes down with you, and he sets down the plate, not caring if the cookies fall and get crumbs all over the floor, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you to his chest.

You’re trying to muffle your sobs into your hand, and that just breaks his heart. Seungkwan rocks you from side to side, making soft hushing noises.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he says quietly. “I’m here. I’m here for you.”

He has one hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your side. He’s whispering in your ear, telling you he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere, that it’s okay to cry. 

And eventually, you make a soft wailing sound, and the hand comes away from your mouth and you cry into his shoulder.

It makes Seungkwan tear up, just a little, hearing the utterly devastating sounds you’re making. You grip him as if he’s your last lifeline, fists shaking through handfuls of his shirt, and he knows that he’d never leave you, even if he were able to.

Not when you were like this. Never like this.

Not ever.

You’re still crying, still wetting his shoulder with your stress, but now you’re making hiccupping noises, trying to talk, and he’s softly telling you that it’s okay, but you continue trying anyway.

“I’m just— I— Kwan, I’m going to fa—ail—” and then the rest of your sentence is incomprehensible, melting into more tears.

You sound so broken, like you’ve been standing on the edge of a cliff for far too long and have finally been pushed. He feels like he’s been pushed with you, his heart swooping worriedly in tandem with yours, and he just hugs you harder.

“No, no, baby, you’re not,” he says, but you just shake your head rapidly, crying. “Listen to me, you’re going to be okay. I promise.”

“N—No, I’m—I can’t do it, I c—can’t do it,” you sob, words fragmented and exhausted. “It’s too hard, I’m n—not good enou—gh.”

You’re breathing rapidly now, big breaths that sound shallow, shaking uncontrollably in his hold.

Seungkwan faintly registers that you’re both still kneeling in the doorway, and as you begin hyperventilating in his arms, he unwraps himself from around you, holding onto your hand and pulling you to your feet, guiding you into your room and onto your bed.

Your eyes are red with exhaustion and now with tears, and you look like a small child as you just let Seungkwan drag you onto the bed, cheeks wet and frame hunched and meek, trembling violently. It makes Seungkwan’s heart hurt, aching to make you feel better.

“Breathe for me,” Seungkwan says, sitting cross-legged opposite you. “Y/N, it's okay, darling, breathe for me.” He takes your hands, trying to get you to look at him. “You can do it, love, do this for me.”

You don’t look like you’re fully in the present, eyes unfocused, swaying even as you continue to sob uncontrollably, shaking. He cups your cheeks, his hands a little cool on your overheating face, and it makes you drag your gaze back to him, hiccupping and breathing erratically.

“Y/N, you’re with me, aren’t you?” he says, gently, smiling. The tears continue to pool in your eyes, but you're looking at him, at least. “Don’t worry, love. You’re doing okay.”

That makes the tears pool faster, the hiccups taking over again as you try to speak. “I’m n—not, I’m really not—”

“Yes, you are,” Seungkwan says firmly. “You are. Shh, it’s okay. Breathe for me, darling. I’ll do it with you. In…” He breathes in exaggeratedly, holding it for a few moments, and then breathing out. “And out. And again. In… and out.”

He breathes exaggeratedly slowly, puffing his chest and then deflating several times. It takes a while for you to join him, but eventually you do, and his hands are now on your jawline, fingers against your pulse, your hands around his wrists. 

“There we go,” he says gently, smiling, as your breath syncs with his. “You’re doing so well, Y/N. My wonderful, wonderful Y/N.”

He breathes in deeply a few more times, until you’re no longer looking in danger of hyperventilating, and then he relaxes, simply holding you. The tears still fall, sticky and aching and staining your face with worry, but at least your breathing is steadier, even if it’s still a little shaky.

Seungkwan leans forward until his forehead touches yours. “I’m here,” he says, softly, in the same way he’s been saying it constantly ever since you opened the door. “I’m here for you.”

“Kwan,” you whisper, small and trembling, “I’m going to fail, I’m really going to fail—”

“Nonsense,” he says instantly, before you can work yourself up into another meltdown. “You won’t. I promise you, you really won’t. Look how hard you’ve been working, my love. You won’t fail.”

Your fingers tighten over his wrist, just a little, and you fall into him, burying your face into his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, natural. Protective.

“You don’t know that.”

“But I know you,” Seungkwan returns. “I know my hardworking, intelligent Y/N. You try your best, at anything at all, and even if you might not let yourself rest sometimes, it’s because you’re working so hard to be the best you can be. At the end of the day, your best is all you’re able to do, and that’s completely fine.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, still buried into his shirt. “You sound like Minghao.”

That makes him chuckle a little, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Well, sometimes Minghao has a point. Even if he sometimes spouts gibberish, there are occasions where he says words of gold.”

“Like that time he told you to meditate because you might have ‘anger issues’?”

“The point is,” Seungkwan says, ignoring you, and it makes you snuffle a small laugh into his chest. “The point is, you’re doing well. You might not feel like it, but you are. I know hard work when I see it, and you’ve gone above and beyond.”

You just hum in response, and he can tell that you don’t believe him.

He smooths your hair back, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. “Maybe you don’t believe me, but it’s true. You’re my wonderful Y/N, and I’m going to cherish you in all the ways you deserve, and you deserve to know how wonderful you really are.”

You whine a little, embarrassed and pleased, and he chuckles. “Stop, you’re making me shy.”

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Seungkwan says after a moment. “Always. So there’s no need to push yourself until you’re falling over the edge, okay? I can bring you away from the cliff safely, with no one being pushed.”

Seungkwan doesn’t know where the weird metaphor comes from, and he expects you to laugh and comment on it. Instead, you just hum again, nuzzling further into him, and your next words are a little muffled, but he hears you all the same.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Seungkwan returns, instantly, because he does, and you should know that. He hopes you know just how much he really, truly loves you.

There’s silence then, save for the sound of the birds twittering in the distance and the AC running practically everywhere in the house, but with you in his arms the rest of the world has ceased to exist, narrowing down to just you.

You lift your head after a moment, and he smiles down at you, devastatingly soft, gently dabbing some of the drying tears away from the corners of your eyes.

“You know you’ll always be able to find comfort here, right?” Seungkwan checks, speaking into the silence, and you tilt your head confusedly. Your eyes are still red, still tired, but there’s light in them now, light that was lit by his love for you.

“Where?”

He presses a kiss to the top of your forehead, drawing a little heart on your cheek with his fingertip. “Right here. In my arms.”

fics tags: @jeonghanis ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @minhui896 ,, @bunnyiix ,, @slytherinshua ,, @haowrld ,, @belladaises ,, @moonlitskiiies ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @butiluvu ,, @zozojella ,, @kawennote09 ,, @thedensworld ,, @a-wandering-stay ,, @abibliolife ,, @doublasting ,, @wonranghaeee ,, @icyminghao

[screams-in-writing]

Hehehehehehehe :)

This got longer than expected, but hey, more to read, right? A little background explanation, then there’ll be that preview of what I’ll eventually get to in the fic with mc/reader and Mr. Puzzles.

Keep in mind the fics tags/warnings of the fic since this isn’t on ao3 yet (I’ll tag some things for the post)

Also- note that what’s written here may be subject to some change once the chapters prior to it are posted (and that more edits may be done).

Context-this would be once reader and Mr puzzles are on better terms and have actually spent time together-like some of the other snippets I did where mr puzzles shows himself to be very in others space and touch starved. Like, there is interest in MC/reader yet not acted on, both trying to figure where the other stands on an unspoken friendship of around a month and a half (or two) whether it’s mixed with more since it seems a bit too fast for what little Mr. Puzzles has offered up of where he came from.

But teasing? Teasing and verbal sparring seems to be safe until it leads to a hug in the following future chapter. which would be fine for friends, but the whole hugging your friend while they’re shirtless while also checking them out a bit too closely and experiencing emotions is maybe a little past being just friends? Reverse strip tease I think? Hmu if this needs more tags. I think this is toeing the T rating even if I cut some things out.

Ok enough of me yammering. Short Mr puzzles pov, and then the mc/reader’s.

-

I didn’t anticipate for you to visit me at the edge of town in my pitiful, sparse home I’d claimed the first day I’d arrived. 

It was a welcome distraction, however. Though, spending time with you was becoming less a distraction and more surprisingly welcome company. The only problem was that it was not good timing on your part until I belatedly recall that you’d agreed to meet me here today. 

I’d even given you get a set of keys to the place after you convinced me to set locks into the small, dilapidated house if I really wanted to stay there. I highly doubted this would have been able to be done in a large city, without paying for the place. For some reason, there appeared to be pity for me here on town, and that allowed me to somehow stay here in this building for as long as I needed to. 

There is a knock on the door to the chosen ‘bedroom’ but instead of reacting, I found myself frozen in place as I realized my current predicament. I had just been doing some routine maintenance with the tools this world was able to provide for me, until I heard otherwise from SMG4. 

But this meant that I was not currently dressed for company. I was also so very exposed and it was nerve wracking to think of anyone seeing the upper half of my body without clothing covering it. All that was there was a black towel that I’d loosely wrapped around my neck to help me not stare at the mess my neck had become. What with all the wires underneath skin supporting my spine, and the way bits of wire and metal poked in and out of my skin without the protective layer of fabric I kept around the wires. 

I completely missed the sound of a key on a lock, signaling that you’d opened the front door and locked it. With rising trepidation, I realized I’d foolishly left my door half-open right before you knocked on it. Swiftly, I crossed my arms over my chest and abdomen Thank goodness I’d finished the internal inspection a half hour prior to this moment, while I attempted to work up the nerve to do see to my his back. But that would require me to take my head off, place it behind myself on a table and contort my arms to perform the inspection, though it would be difficult without the tools I needed Smg4 to agree to get to me.

“Puzzles?” It is you. “Are you in there?”

“Yes.” I stuttered. Goodness, I was not well-prepared to be around anyone. “Do give me one moment to get myself presentable-“ My screen flashed to worry upon hearing a soft intake of breath. My shoulders hunched up as I pressed my arms tightly over my front. “I am hideous at present, my dear.” I couldn’t hide the tremble in my voice, refraining from smacking the side of my head to reset it forcibly. “Just…just let me find where I put my dress shirt. I’ll cover up and-“

“You’re not hideous, Puzzles.” You tell me patiently, entering the room with slow footsteps. 

I don’t quite believe it, but I feel there is sincerity in your voice. It made me relax somewhat. I even perked up when I heard curiosity next. 

“I’ve been wondering what you looked like without your dress shirt on all the time.” You commented, before adding. “More so different clothing styles, but also how the heck your body is shaped that way.”

“Oh? You’ve wanted to see me without my clothes? How scandalous.” I teased, slipping more comfortably into a showman attitude to hide the very real fear of the rejection that lurked in my mind that if you saw me without a persona and the confidence as well as the unsightliness of my exposed body, you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore. That you wouldn’t want to get closer to me more than you already were, despite how desperately I wanted to spend more time with you. 

“I can wait outside the room, if you’re uncomfortable with me seeing you like this. I thought you might be resting, after yesterday. Plus, you know, we’re supposed to hang out today and temporarily forget about work? Relax?”

“Relax.” I repeated dubiously, before sighing theatrically without moving my arms from their crossed position. “I do recall that being the plan now, my dear.”

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked again, not having taken another step toward me. 

I hesitate, considering. 

Usually, I never let anyone see me so vulnerable, and yet.  

And yet you and I have had some rather interesting heart to heart conversations over these past few months. It wouldn’t be too bad if I let you see some of me like this? Slowly, I lower my left arm, and held it out to the side, palm up and held rather steadily, I must admit. Then, scrounging up the courage before I changed my mind, I spoke softly as a contemplative expression settled over my face. “You may…come closer, but do not look at my front, please.” I pressed my right arm across my chest nervously. 

(There will be a transition of maybe a few more sentences before it switches to readers pov-so it would be technically a new chapter)

You wondered if you should insist that Mr. Puzzles didn’t have to do anything that made him this uncomfortable; hunched shoulders, leaning forward a touch, antenna poking up out of the hat twitching in what you could only presume was nerves. 

And yet, he held a hand up, clearly seeking comfort because you didn’t need to hold Mr. Puzzles hand to inspect his exposed back. But this also gave you an earlier opportunity than later on to try something you’d been wanting to for at least a week. You weren’t entirely sure how he’d react, and perhaps being without clothing on his upper half might make your half-baked plan coming over here more difficult. 

There was only one way to find out. 

You stepped forward, watching Mr. Puzzles carefully for any other signs of discomfort, but he remained stiffly in place at the edge of the stool he was seated on. Reaching out with your own left hand, you set it on his, but after grasping it in what felt a reassuring way, he let go of you and went back to planting both arms across his chest from the way his fingertips dug into either shoulder lightly, on either side of a black bath towel wrapped around his neck. 

“It’s all right.” Mr Puzzles whispered. 

You’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself.  You’ moved to stand behind Mr. Puzzles after he let go of your hand, momentarily marveling that even seated on a stool the top of the TV set he called a head came to the top of your shoulders while you were standing.

“You’re ridiculously tall.” You commented, dropping your gaze to beneath the towel around his neck as a low chuckle emitted from Mr. Puzzles. 

“Better to oversee everyone in the cafe, no?” Amusement, and nervousness. 

“Sure, and for keeping a lookout for me?” You asked casually as you inspected the way his sleek robotic arms were attached to what was left of Mr. Puzzles’ human shoulder. It didn’t look sore around the attachment area but you weren’t certain if it was normal for where he came from for skin to be colored as it was. Slightly gray from where the robotic limbs were as the color went up what was left of the shoulder and spiraled across over his left and right shoulder blades. 

“I have noticed you, at times.” Mr. Puzzles said eventually, in a causal way. “Though ordinarily when you attempted to sneak up to that podcast area of yours before you so kindly invited me up to visit.”

“Like we didn’t notice you trying to eavesdrop a few times?”

“You could never prove it.” Mr. Puzzles hummed. 

“Probably not. You move pretty quick for being so tall as well.”

“One of my many charms.” Mr. Puzzles said proudly. 

“Running away?” You teased, thinking about the time Mr. Puzzles fled through the back door of the cafe and was gone before anyone could figure out what had happened was that his apron had been tugged at and he thought it was one of your roommates come back to get him for flirting with you. 

You think it was flirting, anyway. 

“Staying hidden.” Quiet. Contemplative. 

That…didn’t sound like a good thing.

You stared at the back of Mr. Puzzle’s tv head, then continued roving your gaze over his back when he had nothing more to say. 

Mr. Puzzles spine was…a distressingly visible bumpy line down his back all the way down to where it disappeared down his pants, the suspenders hanging off either side of the belt. There were no obvious robotic parts, just skin that was that graying color that trailed up past his waistline. Upon closer inspection, you could see what appeared to be a line of raised skin along the entire length of Mr. Puzzles spine. You glanced at the back of his head again, then stepped forward to  lightly brushed a few fingers along the raised skin, drawing out an involuntarily shiver from Mr. Puzzles. 

Scar tissue. 

Really thick scar tissue, as if it had been repeatedly cut open and sewn shut. 

“Hey, Puzzles?” You see the way his head tilts to the side, his fingers digging slightly harder into his shoulders. “Can I…give you a hug?”

A very long silence before a very slow exhale sounded. 

“You may. As long as you don’t…”

“…look at your front?”

“Yes.” Quiet.

“Can I touch or-“

“I would presume so for a proper hug.”Attempted amusement poor hiding of the desperate need for touch. 

“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop?” You think you hear a muttered ‘would never be too much’ but couldn’t confirm as Mr. Puzzles  merely straightened up and held ramrod still as if he were about to be hit instead of hugged. 

That made you sad to think that he was nearly flinching as though expecting the worst despite your intentions being pretty clear with your words. Stepping forward, you lightly touch a shoulder blade, drawing forth a stronger shiver before mr puzzles practically leaned back into it.  His skin was slightly cooler to the touch than when he was wearing clothes. Then, he seemed to be warmer, and you couldn’t help but wonder if whatever had been troubling him, especially this past month, might be the reason. 

Mr. Puzzles uttered your name in a barely there whisper. 

You take a final step and lean in, deciding first where to rest your head before carefully wrapping your arms around middle, just below where his arms crossed over his chest. It was always a surprise that you could practically touch your own sides if you wished while hugging me puzzles with how slight he was around the middle compared to his ridiculously wide set shoulders and broad chest. But you merely hold your hands over his middle and press your arms into his skin, drawing yet another shiver. 

Was the temperature difference too much?

“That…feels nice.” Mr puzzles murmured appreciatively. 

Ah.

He liked the sensation of you touching him, perhaps a little more than when you had grabbed his antenna and yanked them, only to, after a very long conversation, pet them at Mr puzzles request about two weeks ago. It had left him a happy puddle of static buzzing and a fast heart rate. 

“This okay?”

“Mmhmm.” He sighed near dreamily. 

You decided to unclasp your hands to trace your fingertips along Mr. Puzzles quivering lower abdomen. This caused him to let out a little whine of static, trembling in place as if not sure whether to press into your touch or lean against you. 

When you note that Mr. Puzzles had begun to fidget you stopped, about to move your arms away when his own arms moved to clasp your hands with his own. Mr. Puzzles stayed motionless for a moment as he held your hands, before, with a little shake, settled them over his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. 

And more crisscrossing of strategically placed lines of scars that reminded you too much of a cadaver in a horror game you’d played.

You focused on his heartbeat instead. 

The two of you stayed in place like that for a moment before Mr. Puzzles eventually yet reluctantly relinquished his hold if your hands and dropped his own onto his lap. 

He was being uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Where’s your shirt?” You think he might feel better if he could see you and reciprocate a hug, but for that, he would need something to put on. 

A hand rose to point a digit to the left. 

You step over to the dress shirt (this one gray instead of white) and walked back to drape it over his shoulders. You watched as he slipped the sleeves over his arms and just as he was about to button it up you had inspiration strike you. Stepping obviously up behind him you lean into mr puzzles back again and shooed his hands away as you began to button the dress shirt up instead. 

Look at you go! All those dark morning fumbling with clothes  with buttons on occasion paid off and it drew an interesting reaction from Mr. Puzzles. 

“Not that I’m not flattered with this assistance but may I ask why?”

“Why not?” You respond, doing the last button right before you wrapped your arms around Mr. Puzzles again. “You look good in these clothes.”

“I do?” Uncertainty, then. “Well, of course, I do!”

You coax one of the suspended straps over Mr. Puzzles’ shoulder before he catches one of your arms. 

“I do believe I am capable of dressing myself, my dear.” 

“Yeah, you are, but I think you like me helping out?”

“And you deduced this how?”

“You’re letting me.” You point out as you let the other suspender strap snap over Mr. Puzzles other shoulder. 

“I do suppose that is true.” Mr Puzzles began to do his freaky 180 head turn, only to stop with a full body grimace and hastily turn it back forward. 

You take the opportunity to steal his bow tie that he was reaching for and step off to the side and out of ways reach of long gangly arms. You can’t help but let out a snort of amusement when Mr Puzzles gracefully spins the stool with a leg to face you. He studied you with an expression of amusement on his tv face.  You wordlessly hold up the bow tie and wiggle it. 

“I get up and you won’t get far.” Mr Puzzles said after a moment. The screen switched to a light smile and hooded eyes. 

He was really bad at hiding his interests even if those interests were likely to scoop you up and hold you in his lap or something while he soaked up his ‘allotted cuddling’ for the day. 

“Who said I was going to run?” You offer back. 

Intrigue, then a slightly manic smile.

Oh, you definitely got him interested in whatever it was you had in mind.

Mr. Puzzles stood up, and slowly approached you, watching you closely as he retained eye contact. How he did that with a static expression, you weren’t sure, but it sure was impressive. In two long steps, Mr Puzzles stood before you and held out a hand with a flourish, as if expecting you to bestow upon him the bow tie.

You reach over for the step-stool nearby and make a show of climbing the two steps as though it was an arduous task, drawing an appreciative chuckle for the theatrics. You reached out with your hands, making it clear you intended to do the bowtie for him too.

Mr. Puzzles indulgently stooped while keeping his neck upright. This close to him you could hear the fuzz of the screen and the huff of laughter over you clearly struggling to get the bow tie in place. 

“I guess it’s easier on the tutorial.” You eventually admit, jumping a little when Mr. Puzzles’ hands come up around yours.

“And most I assume are for one wearing the bow tie. Here.” He guided you through getting the bowtie into place, only to switch to a grin when it was done and you’d lowered your hands with his still around yours, as if Mr. Puzzles was reluctant to let go of you. He looked like he might try to pick you up despite his neck troubling him.

“Want to go to the other room?” You asked casually, as if Mr. Puzzles hadn’t just begun to pet the back of your hands with his ungloved ones while retaining a semblance of eye contact with you. 

“How about a change of venue?” Mr. Puzzles asked, his tone a little deeper than before, rougher. “I think it might be more private in the dimension in my mind.”

Okay, giving him undivided attention appeared to bring out the possessiveness, so time for a diversion to defuse that, and a great time, you think, to push things a little farther to let Mr. Puzzles know you did have interest in him and were down for whatever, even if it as cuddling and handholding at this point, like he insinuated yesterday, as if it were scandalous for friends to do. 

You don’t think it is, but whatever. If that was his current comfort zone you’d go with it and back off if your next words and actions went over poorly. “You have a ridiculously grabbable waist that allows a perfect angle to switch to grabbing your ass.” 

“Oh?” Mr puzzles screen flicked through a series of expressions before landing on a curious eyed eke with a smirk. “How raunchy. You’re lucky we’re not on one of my sets where that’d be highly inappropriate.”

“And since we’re not on a set?” You asked with curiosity, only to nearly jump out of your skin as Mr Puzzles has managed to move in that freakishly fast way of his where he now had you  up against a wall, hands on either side of your shoulders on said wall. 

“I would say I’m very…interested, to see where this is going.” Mr. Puzzles carefully lowered his tv head to rest it over yours. That didn’t seem comfortable to press his screen into the wall but he wasn’t found so very hard. 

You didn’t gove yourself time to think and reached out to grasp his hips. 

Mr puzzles trembled in place.

“You want me to keep going?”

“wouldn’t have said I were interested if I didn’t mean you to.”  Mr. Puzzles sounded oddly breathless. 

“You going to be okay, big guy?” You asked. “Just touching your hips seems to have gotten you all hot and bothered.”

“Unoriginal. Use something other than ‘hot’ and ‘bothered.’ Too cliche.” 

“I’ll give you cliche, ass.” And you promptly tugged him forward to grab said ass. His stupid, stupid backside that should not fit his lanky, weirdly built body. 

Mr. Puzzles hands pressed harder into the wall. 

“Any requests?” You asked, as if you weren’t just kneading him through his pants and making him shake. 

“Perhaps it is a bit too much?” Mr. Puzzles gasped out. It sounded like his screen was flashing through a lot of pictures and faces.

You stop, only for him to let out a frustrated whine. 

“I didn’t mean for you to actually stop.” 

You frown up at Mr. Puzzles, take in the pointed not looking at you as he kept his screen pressed to the wall, and then glance down. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“We can stop.”

“No, please continue.”

“We’re going to have another talk okay? Like we did about your antenna.”

A hum of agreement and then a desperate, softly uttered ‘please’. 

“This is okay, what we’re doing right now?” You asked again, wanting to make sure he wasn’t just stuck in the touch starved sensation where anything felt nice.

“Yes, yes it is.” A little snappish as the tv head leaned back for Mr. Puzzles to presumably eye you. “Do your worst. I am perfectly fine with where this is headed.”

“Okay, here goes.” You set one hand lightly on his hip while you followed the urge to give his ass a final slap through the pants that made Mr. Puzzles give a high-pitched yelp of surprise, as if not entirely expecting that.

He sank to the floor on his knees with a flushed expression flashing across his face. Mr. Puzzles buried his screen into his hands, but you catch a glimpse of the screen that showed off blushing, a small technicolor smile and a set of eyes set off to one side away from where you stood.

You decide to let Mr. Puzzles have some dignity while he gathered himself, but you can’t help leaning over pat his head, since it was easier to access when he was crouched or kneeling. The whisper of ‘good boy’ came out unbidden when you pet the side of his screen and an antenna, half-thinking he’d bat your hand away and scoff at you.  You did not expect the noise Mr Puzzles made as he sank entirely to the floor, curling up and pressing his hands into his tv face harder as his expression burned bright, his facsimile eyes on you this time, like he was seeing you in a new light and was very, very curious.

Wow.

Okay.

You knew Mr. Puzzles liked praise with that ego of his, but this flustered demeanor was new compared to the awkwardness of trying to strike up conversation with you in the first week of being here in the world.

[kanene-yaaay]

The Shine in My Eyes (Can Someone Turn Off The Lights?)

Kanene’s notes: Heya heyaaa! I received that request AGES ago and thank you very much for your patience, bean! I hope you like the story, even tho I strayed from the original prompt.

I didn’t proofread it because I really wanted to post it as soon as I could sdfghjjhgfd so maybe some parts are confusing or repetitive, pls just hmu if that is the case ^.^)

Warnings: Light angst and hurt/comfort. Light and rough tickles. Ticklish!Reader and Ler!Moon. Around 4.000 words. Can be platonic or romantic. Sun is mentioned.

[~*~]

“Sleep?” The raspy voice questioned, so quiet that you would almost believe that it was part of your imagination if it wasn’t the amount of times you heard that same question in the last months. It spiked a warm feeling on your chest.

You would almost smile if it wasn’t the mild headache taking over your entire brain. 

“No.”

Cold, metallic hands touched your elbow, leading to an involuntary flinch that quickly disappeared when your mind catched up to whom the hand was. Moon continued, traveling his hands upwards your arm with careful, light and slow touches, telegraphing his movements enough that you could perfectly picture his form slouched next to you on the couch, head tilted, attentive eyes watching your body language and scans looking for signals of distress. It was good that you didn’t even need to open your own eyes to see that, knowing pretty well that doing so would only aggravate your pain.

Frustration ran hot on your throat, making you clench your jaw in response. Your eyes itched, still aching after hours staring at the computer’s screen after an entire morning of going out to do chores and shopping. There was an uncomfortable pressure on the back of your head. Yesterday it all wasn’t good either. This sucked. This really sucked.

Moon pulled you up from the urge to give up to the darkest thoughts peeking on the corner of your mind by taking the light fabric over your eyes and changing it for another one, damp from being recently bathed in cold water. A relieved sigh flees through your lips, your fists unclenching (when did you start pressing your nails in your palms again?) and being lifted to clean a couple of stray tears that now ran across your cheeks.

Two bigger hands overlapped yours, silicone digits wiping the water away before a humming began filling the air. You could almost picture the way the animatronic’s body was swaying from one side to another in the rhythm of the lullaby.

“Fuzzy, fuzzy.” The touch quickly changed directions so it would be playing with your hair, massaging and scratching your scalp with the skill of an animatronic that passed weeks fixated on human hairs and would spend another plentiful of weeks being amazed by their softness, form and type, waiting for you to lower your guards so he could try to convince you to let him try another hairstyle. Maybe you should consider buying them a wing. Sun would love it. You could almost hear the uncontrollably, excited rambling already. A small grin grazed your lips. A finger booped your nose. “You’re fuzzy because you’re tired. Sleep. Go to sleep.”

“Contrary to your belief, sleep doesn’t solve all the problems in the world.” Moon huffed at the lightheaded poke of fun, instead choosing to pinch your poor nose in retaliation. You swatted at his general direction, knowing very well it wouldn’t hit the target nevertheless. It was the thought that counts. “Besides, if I take a nap now it will destroy my sleep schedule for today. I am at least trying to keep it healthy.”

More like, you had now two animatronics that would either began to fuzz over your bad habits, nervously twisting his fingers and anxiously spinning his sunrays, hovering and doing his best to make you feel better while trying to not overstep any boundaries and respect your (bad) choices or follow you at night with light steps and clicking sounds, calmly and happily accompanying you through your chosen night activities while also attempting to subtly nudge you to the direction of your room (and, consequently, your bed).

Of course, every now and then all of you would have your missteps. Some days Sun would tremble uncontrollably and hug you tightly when you tried to go out, chatting non stop over your and Moon’s attempts to comfort him. Another nights you would move too quickly or suddenly and Moon’s eyelights would go to a bright red and he would tackle you on the floor, body frozen on a security code he no longer had, but that still affected him. Other weeks everything would feel too much and you would push them far and away and wonder when it all came to this. Why did all came to this.

But… 

But then there were also be days where Sun would skip around the house, a happy humming that made his entire circuits vibrate - and kind of reminded you of a cat - on the tip of his tongue, a batch of homemade cookies or a new colored drawing waiting for you after a long day. There would be moments when your presence and Moon’s comforting, teasy banter would be able to make his sunrays twitch less anxiously and for him to smile brighter, every shoulder bump, every poke, every half hug and every lingering touch would be a promise and a confession (I am here I am here I care I am here).

There would be moments when Moon would come at your room with his hands once again tangled in a mess of yarn’s strands and he would grumble at your light pokes of fun and refuse to tell about his new project so he could catch you and Sun by surprise and tease you both about your reactions afterwards. There would be nights when he would be frozen and twitchy and feel the worst because he can’t get his body to move and you would start telling him about your day, about a funny meme you saw on internet and and interesting something he maybe didn’t know yet about humans or the world that exists around them, and then, bit by bit, he would be able to move (his entire systems blastring friend friend my friend my dear friend over and over above the instinct of threat catch eliminate) and you would watch a movie.

And there would be moments when you gave them surprise gifts because it seems like their wonder about the world, the universe and humanity would never disappear no matter how much time they spent out of that mall. There would be days they would leave warm dishes and hot drinks on your desk, when they would hug and hold you close when you were ready to face them, when they would listen to you and sing soft lullabies or distract you with games and banter until a smile and a soft feeling took over the sadness and red eyes.

There would be days that you spent looking for new activities or experiences the animatronics hadn’t tried yet, preparing another good memory for them to have. There would be afternoons when Sun would dance with you across the living room because he knew how much you loved that song. There would be evenings when Moon would wipe your tears and distract you from your aching eyes because he knew that bad thoughts are easier to fight when you’re not alone.

Evenings just like this one.

“Thinking too hard.” Moon pressed his thumb firmly on your forehead, pulling you out of your thoughts (again). “Too hard. Must rest. Sush.”

You snorted. “Wow. Thank you, man. I have no idea how I lived until now without your rich life advices.”

“Cheeky brat.” A playful poke was jabbed on your side, fishing a surprised yelp from your lips. 

Silence.

“Let’s play a game.”

A jumpy ‘zing!’ ran across your spine at the dangerous and incredibly joyful tune that took over his raspy voice, and you immediately knew that there wouldn’t be another ending for this day other than you becoming a mess of laughter on the couch. Still, even when a wobbly smile stretched on your face you tried to sound firm.

“No.” It didn’t work very well. There was no heat in it, titters already bubbling in the back of your throat. Your arms began moving and flailing in the general direction of his snickers.  “Moon, no. Give me your hands. Give me your hands right no-o-ow, come on!” Your words began fading and twinkling in between stubborn giggles and squeaks as a wave of pokes and squeezes began attacking your entire torso from seemingly everywhere. 

"Sorrrrry, Moonlight. Can you repeat that?" He was prodding your ribs now, tapping his fingers on each one of them, escaping from your grabbing hands with ease, not taking long before his attack changed to a light pinching of that absurdly vulnerable spot that connected your belly with your sides. His delighted tune showed that he was not sorry at all. "Can't hear you over all of those wiggly giggly giggles. Care to repeat what you just said? Hm?"

His attacks were getting even harder to predict, the cloth on your eyes helping in nothing your current state, actually, the fact that you couldn’t see where he would strike next only made butterflies fly excitedly on your nerves.

Before a reply could leave your mouth, however, his hands began spidering all across your midsection, digits fluttering and dancing on your stomach, barely scratching the sensitive skin next to your bellybutton, teasing and worming their way up and down, from a side to another on your stomach, exploring and tickling every available space until it could calmly rest on your hips, still softly scribbling the ticklish spot with no worries in his heart.

It was hard to not squirm with the tickles, even more so to control the yelps and chuckles that kept falling from your mouth like a waterfall. Especially with Moon's taunting squeezes that never failed to appear when you never expected and fish a squeaky snort.

You tried to talk once again.

He digged his fingers just the slightly bit on the flesh of your hips.

Your hands flew to hold his wrists, lips pressed firmly shut with the willpower that he, the evil jester, the mean clown wouldn't get not even a single more yelp from you.

"I think someone wants to laugh. ~" The whispering wasn't even that close, the animatronic not even having a breath to make it so taunting but you still felt the urge to scrunch your neck and protect your sensitive ears, knowing very well they were one of their favorite places to attack. "Someone here, a very ticklish, very giggly and silly-silly-silly someone wants to laugh sooo much right now… isn’t that right, starlight?"

His hands (still being held but not pushed away by yours) calmly crawled across your sides, drumming on your ribs and still going up until both of them laid on your shoulders, scribbles and scratches leading their way up to your chin, leading your squirms even worse with all the giddy anticipation that traveled across your nerves and made it hard to stay still in the same place.

"Such precious, beautiful laughter and giggles trapped right here." He tsked, one of his hands traveling slowly - all his movements now were surprisingly and still slow, as if he was telegraphing his moves for you - to tease the underline of your jaw. "Greedy, greedy. Wanting to keep all of your adorable reactions all for yourself. You need to learn to share."

His voice was closer. Much closer than before. Danger sirens blasted on your brain but the effort to not laugh and succumb to the ticklish scratches now focusing on unfairly attacking the shell of your ears and the spot right behind them distracted you too much to realize what was about to happen. Why was his voice closer? 

A low, half filled with joy and half with mischief chuckle filled the air. And suddenly you knew the answer. 

“Moon, don’t you dare-!” But it was too late, the unbearable buzzing already taking over your senses, the raspberry spreading like electricity across every single inch of ticklish skin on your neck, pulling all the laughter, all the squeaks, snorts and titters from their hiding spots, making a smile stretch from a side to another on your face.

It didn’t last more than one or two minutes, however. And soon enough Moon was changing and re-adjusting the cloth over your eyes since the last one was already dry and it had fallen from its place with all the struggles. It was dark and your vision was still slightly blurry, but the smirk over the other’s faceplate was crystal clear, his head spinning twice before it bobbed in your direction. 

You mentioned for him to come closer, giggles still running away from your mouth uncontrollably. When he did as asked, your hands held his face with care, thumbs caressing the metal of his cheeks, red eyes watching your expression with adoration and wariness.

“I…” You took a good gulp of oxygen, letting your voice in a sweet, lovely tune, giant smile still plastered on your features. “Will destroy you once I’m free.”

The wheezing sound that came out of his system was loud and uncontrollable, a few parts of his exoskeleton clicking non stop in a kind of amusement that only happened when his guard was down and he was caught by surprise.

You probably just made it even worse to yourself. It was clear for the way that Moon’s eyes squinted until they looked like a crooked smile.

But the promise was worth it. Maybe you could even ask for Sun’s help. His teases were basically unbearable to endure.

“Lay down, lay down, troublemaker.” Careful touches pushed your shoulders so they would go back to a laying position, the piece of fabric being again put over your eyes and bringing a sense of cold relief. It almost made up for the fact that you were walking to a trap.

Well, at least it was a comfortable one.

“Perrrrrfect.” You felt Moon lifting your legs, sitting on the free space on the couch and then laying said ones on his lap. “You laughed, now it means you have to play my game.~”

You wondered if you would be able to get to your room and lock yourself before the animatronic could catch you.

As if reading your thoughts, two hands locked on the spot right above your knees, not squeezing (not yet) but being close enough that a wobbly tune began painting your grin and the need to wiggle away started itching on your nerves.

“Alright.” You acquiesced, the grumpy pout being quickly erased when a single finger skittered on the ticklish skin under your knees. Cheater. “Alright. What is the game?” 

“Say the word.” Confusion must have shown on your face, because Moon continued his sentence. “I write and you say the word, right, squeaky mouse?” As if to confirm his words, he clawed your kneecap, fishing a squeal.

You didn’t answer right away, the squeezes became more and more quicker.

“Ok, ok!!” Kicks did nothing to dislodge the attack, and by the way Moon snickered, he knew very well that. Laughter began bubbling once again on your throat. “I agree! I already agrehehehed, stohohop!”

Satisfied, the animatronic relented his tickling, hands not more touching anything.

Strangely enough that only made you feel even more ticklish, tingles and shivers running and spreading everywhere.

“Guess.”

And then they were back.

The tip of his index finger touches your thigh in a straight line, goosebumps following the scribbling as it changed to lay in the middle of the previous straight line only to make another, tiny, tickly, horribly tickly bolts of electricity teasing the nerves as he repeated the sign, over and over again.

“Guess.”

An only finger dancing and tracing your thigh. It shouldn’t be able to tickle so much. It shouldn’t affect you this much. But it was so light. It was so unbearably light and soft. It was…

It was a letter.

“Ihihihi! It’s an ‘I’!”

“Yesss.” Moon seemed delighted at the snickers, more than happy to see you playing along the silly game and forgetting the reason for your earlier tears. “Second one. Four letters” He got closer to your knee, but instead of one, now two fingers danced and scratched the sensitive skin, going up - once again in a straight line - before going down and to the right - another line, - repeating the movements thrice before moving to the kneecap, softly tracing circles on it again and again and again and again and-

“Move on!” You could feel the heat creeping on your neck and face, the airy giggles becoming more and more frenetic and uncontrollable as the previous daycare attendant refused to focus his attention elsewhere. He did, however, continue after a few more seconds, not wanting to scramble your thoughts so much. 

Moon lifted your leg just a little bit, just enough for him to reach with no problem behind your knee, pulling his touch downwards before going right up, as if his touch was doing little jumps on the spot, zings and more zings of tickly electricity pulling hints of snorts on your reactions.

Lowering his tracing a bit more he arrived to your calf. One straight line up. One to the right. Go a tad downwards the first line. Another line. More downwards. One more line.

He began repeating the tracing. You felt like all of your other tickle spots were tingling in empathy for the calve’s struggles.

“Lohohove! It’s ‘I love’!” A wheeze escaped from your lips and filled the air. Was he really writing I love you? “That is so chehehesy.”

“Sush, sush, sush, cute teapot.” A couple of squeezes. More kicks in protest. “Third word. Five letters.”

Wait. Five?

Now, Moon moved closer to your ankles, three fingers scribbling and drawing the letters, slipping way too close to your soles for it to be only a mistake. It took him having to ‘write’ the word more three times since your brain simply erased any and every knowledge as soon as he felt those nails scraping the skin of  your ankles.

“Being!” You shouted, once again descending in breathless laughter and squirms when the animatronic confirmed that your guess was right, firmly rubbing and massaging the sensitive skin so that you could get a break and breathe more steadily. 

It took a while before snorts and quiet squeals stopped taking over your voice and your legs stopped tingling and sending shivers across your body. You didn’t even was usually that ticklish on your legs, but the mix of light and soft teases and not being able to see what he would do next making your sensitivity spike to the sky.

The game had a logic, however. Thighs, knees, calves, ankles… If you weren’t mistaken, then the next one would be…

Another ‘zing!’ ran down your spine.

“Last word. Seven letters.”

Seven letters.

I love being…

“Wait, wait, wait!” You tried pulling your legs away, but the hands were keeping them nice and cozy in his firm grip. The cloth fell from your eyes and you looked for his, an unstable, pleading grin on your face. “Moon, wait, you know I can’t!” His eyes only squinted more in mischief, smirk growing on his mouth unashamedly. That son of a- “I can’t say it, Moon, please! I swear Moon, I cahahan’t!”

He lifted his hands, fingers wiggling in the air. For a moment you thought that the sentient robot was waving you goodbye since he was about to absolutely kill you dead. But then you heard it.

A faint buzzing, dancing and filling the room.

“No!”

The clawing hand slowly began moving to your feet.

“Last word. Five letters.”

“Don’t you dare!” You had no idea how your voice didn’t break any windows with how high pitched and loud it was, the hysterical, belly laughter already bubbling in the back of your throat as pleas fell like flocks from your lips. “Moon, don’t you dare! No! Come on! Do NOT-”

The buzzing, still discharging small ticklish sparks of electricity touched your sole.

Everything, for a blissful moment, froze.

Then it all came crashing down.

The buzzing filled every single inch of your nerves, tickling in ways that should be illegal, especially as the animatronic - the traitor - began moving to trace the spot as if you could concentrate in the letters being written over all the incoherent babbles and pleas that generously painted the laughter taking over your senses.

You already knew the word that was being written, and was very aware that said one didn’t need all the scratches being delivered to the arch of your feet, or the scribbles that attacked without mercy the balls of your feet and digged under and in between your toes, wiggling and tickling and tickling there without a care in the word.

“I will write it again.” Moon basically purred, sounding too much like the perfect personification of a very smug cat. “Pay attention, gigglebug.”

Before you could protest the fingers were once again traveling across your soles, repeating the attacks and now focusing on all the weak spots they found in their way, fishing plentiful of squeals, squeals, yelps, giggles, titters and snorts in their way.

Everything stayed like that for a few pieces of time. Laughing filling the air, buzzing and tickling taking over every sense. The melodious symphony fulfilling hearts.

And then it stopped.

Moon chuckled, once again rubbing the spot so the ghost tickle feeling would disappear faster, even if your remanent tittering laughter still stretched between you both.

“Did you discover the word?” 

You opened your eyes, wiping a few tears that escaped and trying to look chastising at the robot in front of you, although your burrowed frown didn’t hold any heat, especially with the wide smile still blossoming on your face, shining eyes staring directly at him.

Moon only chuckled more.

“Alright, alright. Troublemaker. But one day you’ll have to admit that you love it.~” 

Before you could answer with a snarky remark, the animatronic surprised you by picking you up and laying down on the couch, letting you rest on his chest.

“Game is not over. One more sentence.” It was an affirmation, but you lived enough with him to recognize the questioning tune in his words.

“No more.” You established.

He grumbled. You were pretty sure that if he could pout, he would.

Silence.

“Gentle tickles…?” 

A sigh left your lungs at the hopeful feeling in his voice.

“… Sssstarlight?”

And how could you ever say no to that?

“Ok. But only light ones.” You agreed. Because when it came to Sun and Moon you had a piece of butter in the place that should be your heart, as it seems.

Moon began carelessly grazing the tip of his fingers on your back, the tickles just light enough to make one or two giggles jump here and there, a pleasant feeling of comfort and softness spreading and relaxing your muscles, making them melt and a warmth to blossom on your chest.

So caring. So comfortable. So soft…

Your mind began drifting away, breaths coming out more steadily, thoughts becoming less and less coherent as the minutes passed by.

You only realized Moon’s plan too late, when your conscience was already slipping away and the tiredness of the day was already catching up.

That freaking cheater.

Well, at least it was probably already late enough that a quick nap wouldn’t hurt.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Ending 1: Destined for Violence

Summary: You make a choice and leave Harrenhal

Notes: this might just be a little sad.

Taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @bpdst-massacre @padfooteyes @lj127 @bitem4rked @cl-0-vr @chattylurker @levithestripper @a-beaverhousen (hmu to be added to any taglist!)

Part 1 / Ending 2 | Masterlist | my requests are OPEN!

You woke up with a start in the middle of the night, not remembering where you were immediately. For a moment, the soft sheets under your hands felt like a trap, until you spotted Aemond next to you, sleeping.

You’d never seen him sleep before. Somehow, it was strange to see him so peaceful. Aemond had never been peace, even as a child. And yet, it looked like he hadn’t seen a lick of violence in all his days.

It wasn’t true. You felt cold suddenly, and the fact that you had woken up felt like a sign. You couldn’t kill Aemond, and this night would always be a weakness. But you could still fight. You could still try to make good what you’d done, for your Queen.

Somehow, you knew that leaving now would be a better revenge than whatever Daemon could do to make Queen Alicent pay for Lucerys. Daemon couldn’t reach Aemond, but you could.

Still, it felt like your ankles were in iron fetters as you slipped off the bed, searching for an escape. Instead, your eyes landed on a table, with the things on it that had been taken from you when you were captured.

They were stacked and folded neatly, arranged methodically and yet it felt like Aemond had built an altar for you. Your heart wrenched in your chest, and you ignored it, grabbing your things off of the tabletop.

An altar in ruins, at your hands.

Daemon had taught you to become a shadow, so you slipped into the dark hallways without a sound, pulling your cloak over the simple dress the woman had given you at your bath. Had it truly only been half a day? It felt like years.

Quietly, you picked up a bucket that had been abandoned on the floor outside of Aemond’s room, trying to fit the picture of a servant. Few hallways were patrolled, and the guards that passed you paid you no mind.

When one tried to stop you, you pulled him into a shadowed alcove of the castle and slit his throat. Blood ran over your fingers, and you wiped it on your cloak before it could stain.

The price for leaving grew as the life left the man’s body, and you knew that the next time you slept, another face would appear in your nightmares.

It didn’t matter. You had a headstart of a few hours, if you were lucky. You needed to find a forest, trees under which you could hide from a dragonrider’s gaze.

A soft whinny was the only sound that could have revealed you, but the horse complied as you stroked its flank, allowing you to lead it into the courtyard. The guards at the gates halted you, asking where you were going.

“An important message for the king. The prince wants me to ride immediately.” You said.

“Long live the king.” The guard replied, stepping out of your way. His head would be on a spike tomorrow, you knew. And another face.

“Indeed.” You replied, and even that tasted acidic on your tongue, reminding you that you were a traitor now.

You kicked your horse into a gallop, leaving Harrenhal in the dust, but the guilt in your heart seemed to slow it down as well. Two lives it had already cost. How many more? It wasn’t unreasonable to Aemond to execute his guards for disloyalty, and to let a prisoner slip through the cracks…

It didn’t matter. You had to make their unwilling sacrifice worth something. If you made it to the Trident, you’d be able to take a ship from Maidenpool to Dragonstone. No, scratch that, you’d make for Rook’s Rest.

Your best shot at getting back alive was there, where you’d be able to catch a ship no doubt, or at least obtain some new information about the war.

The horse you’d chosen carried you throughout the rest of the night, until the sun rose, and you knew that by now, Aemond would have found out.

Instead of riding straight for Rook’s Rest, you sought out a forest, knowing that your journey would be elongated by the ride west, but your life mattered more.

And not an hour later, the roar of a beast shook the ground under you. Through the canopies of the forest, you could see Vhagar’s massive body, flying close to the ground. Her claws grazed the treetops, and you knew that even now, Aemond was like to find you. He would hunt you down, and even if he did not, his men would.

So you abandoned your horse, tying it to a tree and ran in search for an alcove or a cave. Instead, you found an overhang over a small creek, the roots of ancient trees sure to cover you. You scrambled underneath, praying to the gods that Aemond would search elsewhere.

You lost hope when you heard the screams of a dying horse. Closing your eyes, you flattened yourself against the damp earth under the treeroots, covering your mouth with some fabric. Around you, the stench of smoke began to rise into the air.

He was burning the trees aimlessly, either trying to kill you or smoke you out. The ash that rained down on you stung your eyes, causing tears to pool and threatening to spill over.

The heat grew unbearable, so you grabbed handfuls of the mud in the creek, trying to smear it over you for some relief, and hide your bright dress somehow.

Still, the fire stayed, wood cracking around you. A branch broke off, falling into the creek and splashing water onto you. At some point, the shadow of Vhagar disappeared, her roars replaced by silence.

You stumbled out from under the alcove, heart hammering in your chest as you surveyed your surroundings. A few paces away from you, you found the carcass of your horse, burned to the bones, the metal of her reigns molten into them.

The soldier in you made you carry on, stumbling out of the forest and making a run for it. You could make it to Rook’s Rest today, and the riders would not catch up with you. You’d driven your horse to exhaustion.

Cutting off the long hem of the dress, you discarded it on the ground and began to run. When your weapons grew heavy on your back, you didn’t stop. When your muscles began to burn, you didn’t stop. When your lungs felt like they were on fire, you did not stop.

You’d been taught different, and you would survive.

And when running was no longer possible, you walked. Then you stumbled, crawling forward. This was your only chance at making it to Dragonstone, and you’d take it. You had to.

It was this or dragonfire.

The palms of your hands burnt as dirt scraped onto the cuts in them, and you ignored the pain. Nauseau began to roil your stomach, a sign that you were too exhausted for this. The time of imprisonment had weakened you, and you paid your price as you emptied your stomach onto the grassy ground.

You wouldn’t have made it to Rook’s Rest if soldiers hadn’t been on patrol. They saw your face, covered in soot and the vomit in the corner of your mouth and stopped their horses.

“Green or black?” one of them called. You had no idea what their loyalty was. The Riverlands were filled with both.

“Black.” You managed. They hooted in agreement, but you barely heard them, the world turning in front of your eyes as you collapsed on the ground.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was that you hadn’t been raped and thrown away. You supposed it was the honor of the Riverlands that compelled these soldiers, for in Flea Bottom, you would’ve woken up beaten and bloodied.

Instead, a septa was tending to your wounds, giving you a small smile when you opened your eyes. The vomit had been wiped from your mouth, and your palms dressed in soft fabric.

“Thank the Gods.” She sighed.

“Water.” You croaked, and she set the cup at your lips, helping you drink.

“Slowly, or you’ll lose your stomach again.”

“Who?”

“Who found you? Lord Staunton’s soldiers. They’re pious men, lucky for you.” She said.

“Need to talk to Lord Staunton.” You wheezed. The septa laughed at that.

“Women like us have no business talking to lords.”

“I’m Prince Daemon’s general.” You replied through gritted teeth. “I need to get to Dragonstone.”

She paled at your words. “You’re the blacksmith’s daughter?”

“Famous?” you asked sarcastically, and she gave a slow nod.

“I’ll find Lord Staunton.”

They dragged you from your bed immediately, despite the septa’s protests and set you onto a boat headed for Dragonstone. You watched as a raven flew ahead to send word of your return.

Apparently, the Blacks had made you a martyr. Too bad you’d risen from the dead.

A maester watched your every move, not even letting you piss in peace. Milk of the poppy wasn’t offered. Instead, your wounds were dressed as well as possible. You had bruises and burns in places you hadn’t realized at first.

You were only thankful that the septa had pulled the molten soles of your shoes from your foot while you were out.

At Dragonstone, guards already awaited your arrival, hefting your arms over their shoulders to practically drag you inside. Your pride was getting chipped away bit by bit as they laid you into the castle’s infirmary and finally left you alone.

Except that the soldiers around you were groaning with agony, in conditions far worse than what you had suffered. Covered in burns and missing limbs, they lay in their pain as you were made to think of yours.

Herbwives and healers of every kind scuffled amongst the men, but they left you alone, finally. You closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep.

And awoke trying to swat the enemy’s hands off your shoulders, until you realized that it was Prince Jacaerys, for some reason.

“My prince?” you choked out.

“We all thought you were dead. My mother wanted me to retrieve you, but you were screaming in your sleep.”

“Oh. Apologies, my prince.” You replied. The boy was impossibly pale, and for a moment, you forgot that he was only a few years younger than you.

“Come.” He said, helping you off the bed. You struggled to stay upright, feeling your burnt soles chafe against the ground. Another soldier came to your aid, taking your weight off of the young heir’s shoulder.

“How are you?” he asked while you limped after him, struggling to keep up with his pace.

You froze for a moment, not remembering the last time someone had asked. “In pain.”

“Yes, I suppose that makes sense.” Was all he said to that.

“How has it been for you, my prince?” you asked.

“I miss my brother.”

“So do I.” you said with a small smile.

“You have a brother?”

“Three to be exact. They stayed behind with my mother when my father and I left for Dragonstone. They’re probably dead now. Too much honor for their own cause.”

“I’m sorry.” Jacaerys replied. You saw the boy in him for a moment, slipping through the cracks of heirdom momentarily.

“I mourned them when the war began.” You replied curtly, not wanting to talk about your grief to a prince.

Ser Erryk opened the door to the map room as you approached, letting you inside.

“Your Grace.” You greeted carefully, giving a clumsy bow. “I would kneel, but I do not think I can.”

“You’re alive.” She replied. “I didn’t quite believe it.”

Her son’s death had cost Rhaenyra much, and now that you stood in front of her, you could see it.  The flesh had fallen off her face, her bones sharp and her lilac eyes empty.

“Me neither.” You said dryly.

“You must rest, for a swift recovery. We’ve lost too many good generals and commanders.”

“Of course, your Grace.”

“I would have you knighted, for your bravery, but you are still a woman. Ask what you wish to have of me, and if it is in my power, I will give it.”

“Thank you, your Grace. I beg, please do not send me back to Harrenhal or the Riverlands again. Let me serve you somewhere else.”

Before Queen Rhaenyra could respond, the doors to the room burst open, and Daemon walked in. You saw the fury in his eyes blaze hot, and barely had time to brace yourself before he pushed you against a wall, hands on your neck.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra called, but he ignored her.

“You were supposed to kill him.” He snarled, his grip tightening. You could feel his elbows dig into your stomach, the cool sting of his chainmail painful against your sore skin. “I trusted you to be smart enough to gather that! A son for a son, how hard can it be, huh? Instead you’re back here, groveling like the traitor you are.”

“Enough!” Rhaenyra commanded, her voice cutting through the air like Valyrian steel. Daemon let go of you, as if you were poisonous, and you fell to your knees, your vision blurring with tears of pain.

“I couldn’t.” you croaked. It wasn’t a lie.

“She was a prisoner for months!” Rhaenyra reminded her husband. “I am glad to have a trustworthy commander back at my side, and you injure her further! Do not call her a traitor, for she is anything but!”

You couldn’t see Daemon hit her, but you heard his palm impact with her face. Your world came to a crashing halt as you watched your Queen stumble backwards, holding her face in disarray. It felt like a moment too intimate to witness, even if you were on your knees and your head was bent in obeisance.

“Leave.” She said dangerously quiet. Daemon backed away from her, his fury evident. He’d always been more dragon than man, and now, it was coming to the surface. A hand on Dark Sister’s hilt, he strode out of the room, stepping on your hand on purpose.

“Your Grace.” You managed, trying to back into a corner, to just disappear. She did not reply, straightening her back as the doors to the Map room opened again and her son walked inside. You could see on his face that Jacaerys knew.

“Mother.” He said, and you could hear all the unspoken things that went with it, reminding you that your own mother was gone. How you longed to embrace her one last time. How you wished to have died at her side a long time ago.

“Confer with the Maester and find her a room. We need a new commander, and she needs to heal.” Rhaenyra told him curtly, and Jacaerys nodded.

He helped you up carefully, trying to steady you as you stumbled on your feet.

“My prince, you mustn’t.” you mumbled, trying to find balance by putting your hand against a wall.

He ignored you, helping you walk all the way to a small chamber. It was clean, had a bed and your things in it, and that was more than what you’d ever had. So why did you feel so unsatisfied?

“Thank you, my prince.” You said.

“Jace.”

“Sorry?” you asked.

“My friends call me Jace.” He said, his voice cracking.

“I- my prince, I do not know if that’s proper.”

“We grew up together. We played together as children, didn’t we?”

It felt like a made-up story to remember. Yes, Jacaerys had tormented Aemond for being dragonless, but he’d been a child. You’d all been children.

“War makes us lonely, doesn’t it?” you replied.

“Yeah.” He said.

“I’d like to have a friend again, Jace.” You tried. The smile on his face grew, and he gave you an excited nod.

“I’ll leave you to rest.” He said, before slipping out of the room and quietly closing the door behind him.

***

The day you could stand on your feet again, you dragged yourself into the courtyard. To no surprise, Daemon was waiting for you there. He’d heard the maester’s assessment, and he expected nothing less than everything of you.

He looked erratic as his hand curled around the grip of Dark Sister, pacing up and down the length of the rocky courtyard.

“You’re late.” He snapped, despite the fact that the sun wasn’t up, and the two of you were the only ones there.

“My apologies, my prince.” You replied, repeating the empty words. Still, your hand tightened around the grip of your sword, and not a second too soon.

Daemon brought his sword down, and he brought it down hard, leaving a nick in your sword as your arms shook to block. He did not heed his wife’s commands as he sliced at you with fury, not caring for your pained expression.

It only got worse when Caraxes landed on the rocks surrounding the courtyard, watching his rider intently. The dragon’s intent gaze prickled on your back as Daemon attacked again. It was impossible to prevail against Dark Sister’s bite, but you still managed to swipe his feet out from under him.

He landed on his back, only growing angrier at losing against you. You held your hand out to him, trying to help him up, but Daemon only grabbed you by the arm, pulling you down.

Immediately, you brought up your arms, blindly catching the first punch Daemon threw. He tried to reach into his boot for a knife, and you kicked it out of his hand, knowing that right now, Daemon would not hesitate to murder you.

The knife clattered onto the ground a few paces away from you, and you scrambled towards it, but Daemon crushed you with his weight, reaching for it himself. Angry and blinded with pain, you bit his arm, causing him to growl and Caraxes to hiss.

He pushed your face into the dirty ground, scraping your cheek with sharp rocks. You elbowed his stomach and for a second, you had enough time to scramble away from him and get back onto your feet, only armed with his knife.

Daemon twirled Dark Sister lazily. Blood pulsed in your ears, your heart hammering in your chest and sweat dripped from your jaw onto your boiled leather armor. You felt the bruises begin to form beneath your skin as you lifted the knife in your defense, with a heavy hand and a terrified heart.

The look he had in his eyes had to be the same he had had when he killed the soldiers on the Stepstones all those years ago. You ducked out of the way of his sword, sidestepping his cut, but he sliced into your armor and cut your arm. Blood began to well from the wound immediately, but you gripped the knife even tighter.

When Daemon charged a second time, you kicked up dirt from the yard, blinding him long enough for you to get behind him and hold the knife at his throat.

You weren’t as tall as he was, but even from your height, you could almost see the furious expression on his face.

You would’ve yielded, but then, he’d have killed you. Winning was your only option.

“Yield.” You said.

He spat in your face. When Daemon threw his sword away and raised his fits to fight, you let him hit you. There was no use in trying to get the prince to stop. He’d have to let his anger out on someone. Better you than the Queen or her children.

Distantly, you felt your back impact with the ground, Daemon’s fist cracking against your cheek. Weakly, you threw your hands up to protect yourself, but Daemon shoved them back into the ground, stones reopening closed cuts and bruising injured skin.

When Daemon paused his punches, you spat out the blood that had flown from your nose into your mouth. Your ears were ringing, and your head thudded from pain.

“Daemon!”

There it was again. You tried to lift your head, seeing Prince Jacaerys, no Jace, stand on the stairs leading down to the courtyard, face ashen again. Guilt hit you like a punch, only growing worse as the young prince ran down to pull his stepfather off of you.

Daemon gave one last cruel hiss in your direction before he let off, stalking from the courtyard.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“As long as you do not demand to spar as well.” You replied dryly.

“Isn’t it tiring?”

“Quite.” You said. He helped you up again.

“It appears our friendship consists only of you helping me up.” You noted. He gave a slight smile as you recognized that he had asked for your friendship and given it. He could’ve commanded it, but intuitively, you knew Jacaerys would not do that.

Instead, he took you to the maester, sitting next to you as he treated your wounds and idly chatting away. You enjoyed it, not having to think of what you said for once.

“The prince cracked some of the bones in your face.” The Maester sighed. “They may heal crooked.”

“No matter.” You replied, but in the back of your mind, something crumbled. Would Aemond still find you beautiful then?  “What about the rest?”

“Bruising. It’ll elongate the time it takes you to heal. You’ll be ready for combat in a few moons again. Perhaps at the start of the new year, but not earlier.”

You nodded, trying to swallow down the bitter news. War was horrible but stuck here in Dragonstone with a venomous Daemon might be worse.

***

The first time you were let back into the Map room was to plan an attack on Green loyalists. You didn’t know much, only that Rhaenyra needed people with experience.

Except that when you entered the room, Rhaenyra wasn’t there, only Prince Daemon and Lord Corlys. Jacaerys, who had walked there with you gave you a pitying smile.

He was a good friend. Not the kind Aemond had been, but sweet and dutiful. He went easy on you during the few spars you were permitted, and had distracted you with lessons in High Valyrian, which he insisted would be a fun way to pass the time.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d rather sit in the smithy all day, listening to steel ringing on steel and your father’s stories.

How your father was still alive, you didn’t know, but you were glad that one member of your family still was. He’d treated you by telling you the wild tales he’d made up for you and your brothers when you were young, and doting upon you like he never had before.

My little soldier, he called you now. It broke your heart every time.

He’d made you a new sword, with a small blue stone worked inside the hilt. Daemon could have had his head for treason, but your father had guessed that you missed your friend. It disappeared under your thumb each time you gripped it to fight, and your heart cracked a little further.

“It is time we smoked the Greens out of Harrenhal.” Daemon announced, and you felt something shatter in your chest.

Jace’s pity only grew more apparent. You hadn’t spoken of the Riverlands since you’d returned, but anyone could guess.

“Caraxes, Sheepstealer and Vermax shall lead the attack from the sky.” Lord Corlys continued. “And you, girl, will lead the forces on the ground.”

You ignored his insult, instead feeling your lungs constricting at the thought of going back there.

“You’ll await those that may come swarming from the castles with open arms and raised swords.” Daemon concluded.

***

Your feet stung as you marched through the Riverlands, the dragons above you keeping guard. The pain was a reminder of what had happened the last time you crossed these lands.

They’d fitted you with expensive armor this time. The cheekbone Daemon had shattered had healed a little crooked as the maester had predicted, a helmet hiding it from everyone around you. The lust for blood hung heavy in the air around you, these new soldiers that were barely old enough to fight and green as grass ready to spill it.

After a few days, the imposing shadows of Harrenhal came into view. According to your scouts, the Greens were completely unaware of what was coming for them up until now. Caraxes’ screech rung through the air as Daemon swooped through the clouds above you, making for Harrenhal.

You’d be at the gates in a few minutes, and the only thing keeping you from losing your mind was the thought that Aemond might escape. A traitorous thought, one that was only soothed by the small blue stone under your thumb.

With the fire came the screams. You shouted an idle command, and the rows of soldiers closed behind you, shields melding into walls as you waited for innocents to run to their deaths.

Only a few guards were armed enough to fight, but with a bay of steel waiting for them, they were dead before they could raise their weapons.

Your head turned off, no thoughts in your head as you killed women, children and men as if they were animals. Blood coated your blade and armor, splattering between the slits of your helmet as if to remind you of what you were doing. But this was war, and it could not be helped by people like you.

Your men pushed forward, a mass of bodies carrying you closer to the walls of Harrenhal. Your mind screamed at you to run, but you couldn’t. Instead, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, soldiers with shouts of victory streaming towards the castle walls.

And then, Vhagar raised her head above the castle walls to defend herself and your feet moved on their own accord, pushing through your own soldiers and towards the thin line of enemies.

Five guards stood at the entrance of Harrenhal, shivering. You were sure you looked courageous as you charged towards them. By the time you reached them, only two were left. The other three had bolts and arrows in their necks.

You didn’t notice their deaths, only a small flicker of blond in the enemy courtyard. Aemond.

There was a strangled noise from your throat, one you didn’t recognize as your own, and your feet carried you further. There was a pull towards him, impossible to escape.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to kill him or kiss him. You needed to prove yourself, but to whom? Daemon or Aemond?

Jace called your name, his dragon flying low, but half of it was swallowed by the wind and you ignored him. Aemond was in the courtyard, running towards Vhagar. You had to reach him first.

Your armored body crashed into him, pulling him away from Vhagar. Forcefully, with a violence you’d only ever been an onlooker of, Aemond drove a dagger right into your chestplate. It would have been impossible, but your father had mended the hilt of said dagger, so you recognized the blade immediately.

Aegon’s blade.

He ripped your helmet off, no doubt wanting to see the man that had tried to stop him. His face fell as he saw yours.

“Aemond.” You said, and you felt your own weapon drive into his side, Daemon’s taunts in the back of your mind.

“I promised.” He replied. “I promised and I’m sorry.”

“No.” you grunted, blood bubbling up in your throat. You pressed a hand onto your chest, trying to stop the bloodflow, distantly you heard Vhagar roar, defending her rider from attacking soldiers. Aemond steadied you, despite the blood coming from his own wound.

Through the fog in your mind, you remembered the little bits of High Valyrian Jace had taught you and tried to form a phrase. One to make Aemond proud, to distract him.

“Avy-“ you began. Aemond’s eye widened at your words. “Avy jorrāelan.”

“My love.” He whispered, rocking you gently. Tears you’d never allowed to fall now threatened to spill, and you raised a bloody hand, cupping Aemond’s face.

“Let me see you.” You begged. Aemond understood, wincing through the effort of lifting his arm and pulling off his eyepatch.

“I love you too.” He whispered. His words were almost swallowed by the noise of battle, all animosity and betrayal that could’ve been in his features gone.

“I mad-“ you began, but Aemond hushed you, gently rocking you as he knelt on the ground, kneeling for you.

“Don’t speak my love. I will fetch the Maester.”

You gave a ragged laugh, more wheeze than anything else. One of your organs had been punctured, you knew.

“I’m dying.” You whispered. “I made a choice, and it was wrong.”

“It wasn’t.” Aemond said, but you knew that was a lie.

“Please, Aemond. Please make the pain go away.”

He shook his head at your insinuation, now tearing up too. Blood stained his side, dripping onto the burnt earth and coloring it scarlet. With the little strength you had left, you grabbed Aegon’s dagger, lying off to the side, and held it out to him with a silent plea.

After what felt like an eternity, Aemond took it.

For the first time in your life, you saw his hand shake with unsurety. You’d always imagined death to be terrifying, but in Aemond’s arms, it felt like coming home.

And when the dagger plunged into your heart, all you felt were his arms around you and a whispered proclamation of love.

[urmom609402]

Here's a fanfic I wrote called The Cold, I've never done this type of writing before but I have been obsessed with Otis so I thought I should give it a try. If you read this, hmu I would love feedback, or suggestions, or just a heads-up in case it's better than I thought, and I should continue it!! Much love <33

It was cold when I first walked down that path, gravel and dirt under me making the blistered soles of my feet burn. Eventually, passing a fork in the road, I kept walking, trekking what felt like miles beyond where I first escaped, to find a woman…just standing. Holding a tiny umbrella over her head she kicked her feet and looked for possible rides home, before locking eyes with me. I felt like a deer in headlights, her beautiful blonde hair blowing in the wind of what was now a roaring downpour of rain, I took off what was left of my heels and walked over to her.

“Can you help me? I need help. Can you please help me?” I asked out of breath, watching her body language become more friendly with my second pleading.

“Well sure… But Jesus girl what the hell happened to you?” She looked me up and down, noticing my shivering body and pulling me closer to her under the umbrella. “Jeez you’re cold.. Here take this.” She took off her coat and put it over me.

“Thank you… I…” I was at a loss for words, so paralyzed from escaping that pink convertible from hell, unable to shake the image of the man in the back seat…. He was skinny, pale, much older than I was… he didn’t touch me much but he had this death glare he never took off me, like I was a piece of meat for him to tear apart, barely saying anything beyond yelling at the driver and muttering curses while tugging on my hair. As soon as he put his hand on me I ran, I jumped out of that car so fast I couldn't feel my ankle snap as I met the hard concrete below. And that’s how I got here, bloody, broken, I could barely get a word out of my mouth before me and the mystery woman were met with a car in the distance.

“Hold this-” She said, shoving the umbrella in my hands as she ran into the street in front of the car and smiled widely at the people inside, yelling at them to open the doors. “Me and my friend here need help! Please can we hitch a ride?” She said in an infantilized tone, trying to baby-talk them into letting us in. Eventually they opened the door, shoving the blonde haired woman in the front, and me, next to the guys' girlfriends in the back.

I gave them a weak smile before saying “We really appreciate the lift.”

“No problem, where you headed anyways?” Bill asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“My house!” Baby chimed in, sounding awfully cheery. “We were going to have a sleepover and you know.. One thing led to another and our car got stolen! Some bitches took it and ditched us to rot on the side of the road… Until you got us…” She bit her lip and played with Bill's hair until he slapped it away. I felt myself tighten up at her lies, unsure whether to correct her or to go along with it, all I wanted was to be somewhere safe and this was my only ticket to just that.

“D’you know about Doctor Satan? Someone a few miles back told us about a tree-” The man in front of me asked in a more unserious tone compared to his friend.

“Oh leave them alone!” Bill’s girlfriend scoffed.

“Yeah I know that tree! It’s right by my house!” Baby said, shooting a soft gaze back at Jerry, before suddenly a pop of the tire stopped us in our tracks.

“Fucking hell!” Bill said before getting out of the car, baby and jerry soon followed. “Did you do what I asked before?” Bill said frustratedly, no response he repeated himself. “Did you pack the extra tire like I had asked?”

With an embarrassed sigh he muttered “No, I did not bring the extra tire. I inflated it but I forgot to put it back in the car.”

“For fucks sakes Jerry!” He said holding himself back from slapping his friend. “What do we do now?”

“My brother has a tow truck, he should be able to help us. I live not so far from here anyway I can go get him!” Baby said, bubbly as ever. “You, me, and my friend in the back can go to my house.” I weakly smiled at the baby when she made eye-contact, prompting me to get out of the car.

“I'll be right back.” I said to Denise and Mary before hopping out of the car. Baby held my wrist tightly and smiled.

“We’re going on an adventure! You, me, and glasses here are going to my house so we can get my brother to tow the car. Are you excited?” She beamed at me.

“S-sure.” I said as happily as I could, losing feeling in my feet as we walked to the house, leaving the others behind. Baby’s grip on my wrist moved to my hand, her warmth helped me keep composure on our little walk, finally letting go of me once we arrived at the driveway.

“You two wait here, I’ll be right back!” She smiled widely at me and Bill and ran off, coming back with that same wide grin scaring the ever living shit out of the two of us. “My brother just left, for now I say we go inside and warm up.” She grabbed my hand again and guided me inside.

Only in the house for a few seconds it felt claustrophobic, walls cluttered to the ceiling with wallpaper, and dirt. Garbage and other unnecessary goods scattered about the space aside for the clean-ish living room. It felt inviting when Baby was holding my hand, but as I really took in the space it gave me an unnerving feeling. It didnt help that there was a stench stinking up every inch of the house I couldn’t recognize- it was as if rotting meat was left out near a litter box. As i sat down I watched as Baby averted her attention on Bill, teasing and playing with him, leaving me closest to the tv.

“Baby you didn’t tell me we were having guests over!” A voice said excitedly, i turned around to find a woman who looked just like baby saunter over to me, sitting next to me on the couch. “Hello sweetheart, what’s your name?” She said, giving me a warm smile.

“(y/n)…that’s a really pretty blouse m’am.” I said faintly admiring how her nightgown clung to her, feather boa draping over her shoulders with unseen grace.

“Thank you darlin’, please, call me mama.” She said rubbing my shoulder. “Oh dear you’re shivering! Baby go get our guest a blanket and see if Tiny’s home yet!” Baby rolled her eyes, stepping away from the paralyzed Bill, before throwing a blanket at Mama and walking out the door again. “(y/n) is such a lovely name…what happened to your foot honey?” She said averting her gaze to my blistered and bruised feet.

“I uhm..” I stuttered unsure how to admit it. “I was riding my bike and fell off pretty bad, a car nearly ran me over.”

“Well don't go lying to my momma girl.” A husky voice said in the shadows. It was the man from before, the death glare… He walked towards us with a slow stride and plopped himself in the chair closest to us. “She had a big fumble down the road so me and Spaulding took her in our car… Being sympathetic y’know? And this bitch jumps out of the car when we’re going damn near 80 m/ph and runs away from us!” He said in an angered tone.

“Is that true?” Mama asked concerned.

“Yes…I’m sorry for lying to you Mama.” I said while unable to take my eyes off of him.

Mama simply gave me a hug and said. “No need to apologize, my son has no manners when it comes to meeting new people.” She laughs softly. “Otis, can you take (y/n) to Baby’s room? Help her get new clothes?” My eyes widened, body stiffening under her gentle embrace as Otis glared back at me with that same glare, slowly getting up.

“Sure thing.. C’mere momma, I dont bite.” He said pulling my shoulder off the couch and in front of him, going further into the halls of this maze of a home. Blood, dirt, and grime stuck to every inch of the house, each one looking older than the last Otis dragged me up the stairs and into the bathroom.

“I thought she said to take me to Baby’s room.” I said slightly confused. Before answering he forcefully held onto my ankle as i sat on the tub, wrapping a bandage on it.

“She says a lot of things, i just thought you’d prefer a proper clean up before we get you new clothes.” He said somewhat sarcastically, dragging me back to my feet once the bandages were done. “I dont like my new plaything all dirty or upset… You have no idea what you just got yourself into momma.” He gave a devilish grin and dragged me into his room, walls full of doodles and drawings. “Sit.” He pointed to a chair in the middle of his room, it had what could only be blood splattered all over it much like everything else in his room. Too scared to move I quickly sat. “Good girl. You know why we picked you up earlier?” He asked, circling around me, tying my wrists to the back of the chair tightly.

“Why?” I said squirming against the rope.

“Because you’re a pretty woman, aren't you? You look like you know a good time when it’s presented to you right?” He kneeled in front of me, tracing the shape of my breasts through my wet shirt with a knife. I couldn't answer. Pressing the knife into the fat of my left breast a little harder than before he repeated his question.

“Yes.. yes ow please stop.”

“Good…well you’ll be happy to know I love a good time. I’m a bone-ified freak as a matter of fact.” He chuckled softly rubbing my knees with his other hand. “You feel cold.” He leaned into my face, not like he was going to kiss me but to rather, admire me. Studying how my face flintched, how my eyes were tired, and how I reacted to his touch.

“Why are you doing this?” I said weakly, stopping myself from trying to undo his knot on the chair. ‘It was no use’ I thought, wrists burning with each small tug I maneuvered before.

“Like I said before… you’re a pretty woman. You said you liked a good time right?” I nodded frantically feeling a panic bubble in my stomach, feeling too weak to try and calm myself down. Sliding a hand up my thigh he whispered real close into my ear. “I got a way of making you warm momma…You want to hear what it is?” He pulled back dug his nails into my inner thigh, it felt like cat-claws digging into me like knives.

“Y…No.” I held myself back from saying yes, blurting out my self-correction and immediately regretting it as he used that same glare from before against me yet again. Stand up, he let go of my thigh and held onto my shoulders.

“No? You’re telling me you dragged your pretty little ass out of that storm, trembling like a god-damn leaf and you don't want to be warm?!” He shouted at me, flipping my chair to face the window. The storm was roaring louder than before, clearly flooding the streets as thunder boomed around us. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, I would’ve gutted your dumbass already.” He mumbled, breathing right next to my ear. “Pretty girls like you should know better than to not answer to a man like me. But I’m gonna take pity on you… just a little.” He kneeled in front of me again, both hands digging into my thighs. “That ain’t an excuse to try and escape. The only way you’ll get out of this room is to take a piss or die. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” I said, tears flooding my eyes as I stared at the storm.

“Look at me when i’m talking to you god dammit!” He pulled on a lock of my hair, making me yelp and nod frantically.

“I said..Yes.” I choked up, unable to contain the sobs i so desperately needed to get out. Suddenly, I felt a knock at the door. It was Baby.

“Otis! Momma wants you! We got guests and if you dont get your ass down-”

“Shut the fuck up! I got business to attend to!” He barked back, switching to a more attentive tone, slowly getting up from kneeling in front of me to standing up again. “Wipe those tears little momma, i’ll be back to make you real warm.” He gave a shit-eating grin flipping the chair around to face the door- teasing me. Teasing the idea of escape.

To be continued (?)

[48787]

Fun fact, when someone picks a new deadly sin to represent themself, you can actually eat and become their old one without needing to compromise your previous deadly sins!!

You don't have to be just one! You're actually intended to have quite a few of them, in fact! It's a strange system, I would've designed it differently, but that's just one of the tips and tricks I learned over the years about the Abrihamic meta, if you're trying to minmax.

This system does lead to some people being pressured into picking new sins so the pressurer can maximize sin intake, however it is also important to remember that once you reach all 7 you either (1.) run out and reset your method of sin intake by picking a new starting sin and counting from 1 again or (2.) move on to a new model of sin measurement (Such as Dante's Inferno layers of hell, for instance) and need to retrofit old sins into new ones, which is almost like a soft reset of sorts (For example, needing to figure out how to translate Sloth into the layers structure while accounting for thematic overlaps).

Point (2.) can get complicated when going from a model with more sins to a model with less sins. You have to figure out which sins are being conglomerated and consolidated as well as distributing importance semi-consistently, because you need to make sure there is at least one in the new model that you haven't taken yet.

There, of course, is the universal truth that "You are all Sin all at once and You only wish to quantify sins in the first place to pretend like You are excluded from sins that You are actively embodying (By being Sin, in Sin's entirety)" but that really is just a 1-sin binary model... which necessitates a 0 to explain its existence as 1 in the first place... You get it. The reason why we pick these models is because it's fun.

Sure We are God, but we knew that already and want to pretend like there's more to it than that because it's fun. Sin is fun!! That's why people keep dying (Or living but being tortured through living) for Our sins (It very much did not start with the one big example you're probably thinking of). It's fun!!

Just. Maybe stop dying. I get it can be fun for you, more power to you or whatever, but dying also kinda blows. I know I will sometimes say Till All Are One or whatever but I wanna be One with You... even though you'd be there regardless, under All after all... Whatever.

Anyway if you're wondering, I just ate Wrath, which puts me at:

Wrath

Lust

Gluttony

And I've been teasing at Greed for a while. Though, those are just the ones that are compliant with both the Deadly model and the Inferno model, it gets a bit more complicated considering my Deadly root was Pride and I haven't given that up yet, so to separate the models a bit it'd actually be

Deadly:

Wrath

Lust

Gluttony

Pride

With Greed, Sloth, and Envy missing (Sloth is actually maybe next for my deadly chart, and Envy flickers in and out on its own)

Inferno:

Wrath

Lust

Greed

Gluttony

Treachery

Limbo

With Heresy, Violence, and Fraud regrettably missing (The three flicker like Envy in the Deadly model but it's because sometimes I'm leaning more towards the Deadly model so it is Envy and sometimes I'm in the Inferno model so Envy gets interpreted as one or two of the three without completing it outright, with the stressing on one over the other two or two over the other one allowing for enough of a buffer to be fickle. This is also the reason why Greed is locked in for Inferno but not for Deadly. I tend to prefer Inferno, after all.)

Anyway, yeah, I was just using myself as an example. But if you're thinking about dropping sloth for something else hmu I'll eat it after you.

You also don't have to drop them, if this proves anything it should be proving that you can be multiple at once (That's kinda the whole point actually) so striving to be multiple instead of just relying on revelations to begin swapping might be a game changer for you if you're trying to grapple with your original sins and don't know how to respec without resetting

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"Open to Interpretation" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 11/16: The Graduation Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: General Word Count: (1.5K/24K) Summary: Emma Swan is appalled at works by modern artist Killian Jones- until a handsome stranger convinces her otherwise- and after introducing himself as the artist in question, he invites her out on a date. As their relationship develops, they find that they might not be as different from each other as originally though. Chapter Summary: Emma thinks about Killian as they attend the graduation together. Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, modern au Author's notes: n/a Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart  [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 Three weeks ago, Emma's plans for this evening would've been some big anniversary dinner with her ex. Two weeks ago, today's plans would've been ramen and eating ice cream from the carton as she made fun of some cheesy hallmark movie. A week ago, it would've been seeing if this cute guy from the museum would take her out on another date. Tonight, though, it turned out to be going to a graduation with him, after taking a bit of a road trip together and meeting his family.

 Emma noticed something off about Killian ever since they'd met up with his dad. He seemed more nervous than he had been when he was giving his speech at the benefit dinner, and more restrained than when he'd been entertaining guests at it.

 She'd almost been afraid to try to see what was wrong, in case it was too personal for him to bring up, but when he put his arm around her and pulled her a touch closer- almost as though he needed her, needed her comfort and support- she decided to try and soften his mood a little. After all, that was why he brought her along, wasn't it? To make this weekend bearable?

 "So let's see," Emma asked Killian, "if when we met, you didn't tell me you were the artist who painted the paintings we were discussing, and last week you didn't tell me you were hosting the benefit dinner you took me to, what does that mean for tonight?"

 "What do you mean by that, love?"

 "Am I gonna find out halfway through the ceremony that you're valedictorian or something like that?" Emma teased, "Or the keynote speaker, or school principal or something?"

 He smiled, her humor evidently softening him up well.

 "Don't worry, Swan," he said, "whatever happens this time, I'm just as much a victim as you are."

 "It's more exciting that way anyways," Emma said.

 "And I want to savor every exciting moment with you, Swan."

 She'd've given him a witty response, but then the lights dimmed, and the ceremony began.

 Emma had once read that a graduation ceremony is like the end credits of a movie you've never seen before, and, in this case, it was one where none of the actors were even familiar to her, though she'd heard one of their names before. As such, she found her mind wandering as she sat through the ceremony- and the street her mind chose to wander was "Killian Jones Avenue."

 Even something as small as the way his hand rested on her shoulder was notable- with a grip both strong and gentle- firm enough for her to believe he was strong, but soft enough for her to believe he'd never use that strength against her.

 "It must be the artist's touch," Emma thought, "as intentional with every move towards me as with his paintbrush on any other masterpiece."

 A masterpiece. She hadn't thought of herself as a "masterpiece" for quite a while- since well before her last relationship officially crashed and burned. Maybe that's why the breakup hadn't really come as much of a shock to her as it could've- because, no matter what she tried, he'd stopped looking at her long before then.

 Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Killian looking at her, his eyes fixed on her instead of on whatever was going on onstage, smiling at her as if maybe she truly was, as he kept saying, a masterpiece.

 "I was a fool for saying no to him earlier," Emma thought, "he's gorgeous, talented, sensitive, sincere, successful enough to make money off his mere existence- he's got 'boyfriend material' written all over him. But that's what I thought about the last one, and the one before that- and all the ones before that, really. I'm just not ready to go through all that again."

 When he'd asked her to pursue something more serious, she'd prided herself on keeping her guard up, on protecting herself from the inevitable betrayal, on coming up with a response in advance for when he, as they all do, protested her "unfairness" in rejecting him.

 But his protest never came. When she said she wasn't ready, he didn't tell her to take a chance on him, or try to sell her on all his remarkable qualities, or tell her she was a fool for turning him down and that she can't find a catch like him just anywhere- though it would've been true. Instead, he told her it was alright, that he just wanted her to know he had no intentions yet to leave her, and practically apologized for coming on so strong before reassuring her in her decision to keep things as they were.

 That was when it clicked for Emma. The fact that he didn't try to change her mind, that he respected her decision to guard her heart, that he was so willing to accept Emma exactly as she already was- it was enough to almost make her wish that she had changed her mind, that she had let her guard down, that she'd let herself become more for him.

 But that's how she got herself into these messes in the first place- a guy would seem like he wasn't gonna hurt her, she'd let him into her walls, and he'd tear them down from the inside out, leaving her vulnerable to whatever betrayal he had in store once he was bored of her. Maybe Killian wasn't like that. Maybe Killian Jones was exactly who he said he was, and maybe he wasn't going to hurt her, and maybe this relationship would be the one- but maybe this was all an act he'd only keep up for so long- his time with the museum would end eventually anyways, and he'd move onto some other exciting place and meet some new masterpiece at one of his other galleries.

 So for now, it was probably for the better that they left things open to interpretation.

 Once the ceremony was over, Emma waited with Killian's family to congratulate Liam on his achievement.

 "It was a lovely ceremony," Emma said, trying to make small talk despite barely having paid attention to it anyways.

 "Yeah," Fiona said, "they always do such a nice job with it here."

 "Indeed," Killian began, "why, I remember my graduation like it was yesterday. They had…."

 "Oh, look," Brennan said, interrupting Killian to wave across the room, "there's the man of the hour himself."

 They turned to see that it was Liam he was waving to, quite a few yards away. Brennan and Fiona headed towards him, walking past a disappointed Killian.

 Emma took Killian's hand, a smile momentarily  crossing his face as she did.

 "I'd still like to hear the rest of what you had to say," Emma said.

 Killian shook his head as they walked through the crowd back to the others, "it wasn't important."

 "If it's important to you, it is to me," Emma said.

 "I appreciate that, love," he planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

 When they rejoined with his family, Killian let go of Emma's hand so he could give his step brother a hug. Then, he let go and held his shoulders at arm's length, smiling proudly.

 "Congratulations, Liam," Killian said.

 "And congrats on the exhibit at the museum," Liam said, "I saw the pictures online, you must be…."

 "Now, now," Killian said, "there'll be plenty of time to talk about that later. Today we're celebrating you."

 "Yeah, congratulations," Emma interjected.

 Liam smiled at her. "I don't believe we've met."

 "I'm Emma," she held out her hand to him, "Killian…."

 "I do believe my brother's mentioned you," Liam shook her hand, "wasn't exaggerating in the slightest when he spoke of your beauty."

 Emma smiled a little, "I see you've been taking lessons in charm from your brother."

 "It's a family trait," Brennan interrupted, "and Liam has picked up on it as well. We Jones men always were a charming lot."

 "You all certainly are," Emma smiled as Killian's hand found its way to hers once again.

 Fiona pulled out her cellphone and took a picture of Liam.

 "Do you want me to get a picture of you guys all together?" Emma asked.

 "That would be lovely," Brennan said.

 "Oh, yes," Fiona said, "It's so lovely having the whole family together again."

 The Jones family all stood next to each other for the picture, with Liam in the front, his parents behind him, and Killian standing next to them, slightly off to the side, almost as though he didn't fully believe he belonged in the picture.

 Still, as Emma handed back the camera, she felt something, not quite jealousy, but something like it. Liam had grown up in the foster system, just like Emma had- but he had so much she'd never dreamed of. Emma'd never had a high school graduation, or a family photo she actually felt worth keeping- she was pretty sure she'd never truly even had a family.

 "Some people are just born lucky," Emma thought, "and I've never been one of them."

 But she hid her feelings like she always did, faking her best smiles, not about to play the pity-the-orphan card and spoil Killian's family's weekend.

[frestoniia]

▷ RP WISHLIST (TWISTED WONDERLAND)

" When your breaking point's all that you have, a dream is a soft place to land. "

A collection of plot ideas for Craig's TWST verse (x). If any of these catch your interest, please feel free to hmu! Specifics can be tweaked as we see fit. Will be updated as I come up with more ideas. 

1. Craig makes a dress/suit/outfit for your muse. Either commissioning him to create an outfit for your muse, or offering him something else in exchange (if your muse is close with him, he'll probably do it without asking for anything in return). Could be for a specific event your muse wants to attend, or just because. Any excuse for Craig to make pretty clothes for someone.

2. Craig goes to a big fancy ball. Maybe your muse is his date/chaperone, or they just happen to meet at the ball, or your muse is helping him get ready (or vice versa). Give me fancy ball threads you cowards. Bonus points if it's something like a masquerade, bc those are always fun. 

3. Craig is performing in some kind of pageant or show, and your muse helps him prepare. Or vice versa! 

4. Your muse gives Craig a makeover. "Popular" from Wicked plays in the background. Also "Beautiful" from Heathers. I want both these vibes pls.

5. Overblot Craig. Please, I crave OB threads. I am begging with my whole chest. 

6. Craig uses his UM to fuck someone up. More than likely he's doing it either to protect himself or someone else. Unless he's overblotted, in which case he'll fuck up anyone for any reason. See above. 

7. This video (tw for blood and gore). Because angst :) Could be someone underestimating their strength (or overestimating Craig's) and hurting him in the process. Alternatively, Craig can end up accidentally using his UM to cause a similar incident. See above. 

6. Someone saving Craig from his shitty aunts. Either offering him a place to stay during break so he doesn't have to go home, or busting him out Weasley style. Because when you're in an isolated and abusive situation, sometimes you need to be saved and you're not weak if you can't escape by yourself.

[cursed-herbalist]

𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓼 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓭

Ravenclaw • Half-blood • British • Virgo • ISFJ • Charms and Transfiguration Ace • Tinkerer • Emotional Support Werewolf with A Comeback For Every Situation

Pinterest | Spotify

A/N: Silas is open for friends and rivals! So if you’re interested in discussing a plot, hmu!

—

Name: Silas Ashford

Meaning: Silas - Greek/Latin origin meaning woods or forest (it's a version of the name Sylvanus which is the roman god of the countryside); Ashford is a habitational surname and might indicate someone is from Ashford or is/was living by some kind of ash tree ford

Nicknames: tbd

Birthdate: 16th September 2005 (3:19PM)

Zodiac Sign: Virgo Sun, Pisces Moon, Saggitarius Rising

Personality Type (MBTI): ISFJ - The Denfender

Sexuality: Bi, until proven otherwise

Gender Identity: Wizard (he/him)

Blood-Status: Half-blood

Nationality: British

Residence: Castle Combe, England

Hometown: Castle Combe, England

Languages: English

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Jay Lycurgo

Hair: Black, curly

Eyes: brown

Height: 178cm

Weight: 65kg

Body Type: average

Skin Tone: warm caramel

Distinguishing Marks (scars, birthmarks, etc.): tbd

Voice Claim: Jay Lycurgo

What do they carry on them?: random tools, wand, school stuff, wolfsbane potion, anything else you might need

Backstory

Silas grew up in a small, foresty wizarding town near Castle Combe. His childhood was happy and relatively uneventful until the end of his third year at Hogwarts, the summer break to be exact. A few months prior his sister had found herself in the midst of a werewolf attack, unfortunately, ending with her being bitten. Scared of the wizarding communities reaction, his parents tried their hardest to keep this new circumstance a secret, even from their son. Though, during a stormy night, when Silas heard a loud thud echoing through the house, he decided to investigate a little further. Ignoring his parent's warnings, not to go to his sister's room, he broke through the locked door, and, to his surprise, found a fully transformed werewolf, just itching to escape. That night he had suffered the same fate as his sister and would continue to suffer it every full moon.

More loading …

Family

Father: Lyall Ashford - Lyall is, generally, very loving, soft-spoken and relaxed. To this day he still has no clue how to deal with his werewolf kids and would rather keep it a well-kept family secret ... more so because of his wife rather than believing it to be a ‘bad’ thing himself. He only has everyone's best interest in mind and has spent more than a couple nights, hitting the books in search of a cure yet to no avail. Lyall is a Hit Wizard and therefore a member of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad (he might be a higher-ranking officer, idk. How is the squad organised? XD). Silas and he share their love for tinkering and often spend hours in his workshop behind their house.

Fc: Isaiah Mustafa

Mother: Miranda 'Mira' Ashford née Greengrass - Miranda is a very well-read and determined witch. Starting as a member of the Invisibility Task Force (she used to be a magical architect, specialising in hidden infrastructure), she quickly climbed up the ladder at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and now finds herself second to the Head of the Department, leading the Task Force. As she had a little falling out with her pureblood family for marrying below her status, she tries to keep further disappointment to a minimum. With lycanthropy still being believed to tarnish a wizard's reputation, she does everything in her power to keep the tea about her children from spilling and, of course, keep her kids safe from the Werewolf Capture Division.

Fc: Dakota Johnson (as of now, might change)

Little Sister: Eira Ashford (born in 2009) - Eira is a brisk yet quiet girl. Unlike her older brother she embraces her inner wolf, thinking it to be cool after reading, maybe a bit too much, muggle werewolf fiction. Though, she still feels guilty for turning her brother. Her biggest wish is to become a badass Auror. She spends day and night practising Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Fc: Ella Balinska (might also change)

Magic

House: Ravenclaw

Best Class: Charms, Transfiguration

Worst Class: Divination

Quidditch: -

Clubs: -

Wand: Ash Wood, Phoenix Feather Core, 13 1/2” Length, Rigid Flexibility

➔ The ash wand cleaves to its one true master and ought not to be passed on or gifted from the original owner, because it will lose power and skill. This tendency is extreme if the core is of unicorn. Old superstitions regarding wands rarely bear close examination, but I find that the old rhyme regarding rowan, chestnut, ash and hazel wands (rowan gossips, chestnut drones, ash is stubborn, hazel moans) contains a small nugget of truth. Those witches and wizards best suited to ash wands are not, in my experience, lightly swayed from their beliefs or purposes. However, the brash or over-confident witch or wizard, who often insists on trying wands of this prestigious wood, will be disappointed by its effects. The ideal owner may be stubborn, and will certainly be courageous, but never crass or arrogant.

Animagus: Werewolf?

Boggart: a torn-up, bloody corpse (hurting someone whilst being a werewolf)

Riddikulus: corpse turns into a dancing sour patch kid

Patronus: White Wolf

Patronus Memory: tinkering with his dad in his little shed behind the house

Amortentia (what he smells like): evergreen forests, metal, new books, maple syrup, a hint of leather

Amortentia (what he smells): tbd

Magical Abilities: -

Career

11–17: Student at Hogwarts 18–24: Studies Engineering at a Muggle University 24-?: Artificer (Magical Engineer; Magical Artefacts Maker/Conservator)

Personality & Attitude

Personality: Although, generally, a very understated guy, Silas often finds himself in trouble but more so because of his own overbearing curiosity rather than for the sake of mischief. He likes to ponder ideas and come up with new things and gadgets and is known for his witty comebacks and remarks, that more than once, have caused him a round of detention. Even with a loose tongue like his, he is very loyal and would drop everything to lend a hand whenever a friend or family member (or basically anyone) is going through a hard time or is in need of help. For an introvert, he's oddly social.

Moderator: ‘Why don’t we go 'round introducing ourselves?’

Silas: ‘Hi, my name is Silas, spelled as it's spoken. *chuckles* I’m just kidding, guys. Anyway, I’m a tinkerer. And a fun fact about myself is that I love anything mysterious.’

Strengths: supportive, courageous, curious, quick-witted, funny, efficient, hardworking, loyal, thoughtful

Weaknesses: stubborn, perfectionist, overly humble

Stressors: full moons, keeping his secret, his own too-high standards

Comfort: reading, tinkering/crafting, forests, quiet, the chirping of birds, yoga/meditation

Priorities: keeping his secret, being helpful

Favourites

Colours: doesn't have one

Food: berries (preferably, freshly picked from the forest), Mexican food, sour patch kids

Drink: coffee (just keeps him going)

Flowers: Elderflower

Music: basically anything; likes to listen to low-fi music while studying (helps him concentrate)

Books: anything involving magical myths or craftsmanship

Weather: rainy days

Hobbies: tinkering/crafting, reading, yoga/meditation, sketching, discussing new ideas, mystical creatures

Style: laidback, neutral/cool forest-y colour palette

Relationships

Significant Other/Best friend: Oscar 'Brandy' Crouch, future Ashford @potionboy3 - Brandy and Silas have been best friends and roommates since day one of Hogwarts—that is until he gets bitten in his third year. To keep his hairy little secret, Silas is removed from the dorm and gets his own room. He decides it to be best to keep it from Brandy, scared of his reaction. Without them even realizing things start to take a romantic turn which frightens Silas and prompts him to withdraw from Brandy, leaving him wondering for quite a bit. Brandy, in the end, does discover that his best friend is a werewolf and, frankly, doesn't mind at all. Thus, the two become a couple after an eventful full moon.

Friends: tbd

Open for friendship requests :)

MISC & HCs:

almost always has grease on his hands, clothes or in his face

has dubbed Brandy and him #sily; no take-backs

slipped Brandy a book of ancient myths about werewolves’s in hopes that he’d take the hint but Brandy was still oblivious xD

likes to do yoga or meditate before going to bed or in the mornings, depending on when he has time

playing ‘The Werewolves of Millers Hollow’ makes him oddly nervous 😬

has his own dorm room (thanks whoever-is-headmaster-at-that-time 😘)

100% a hugger

somehow always prepared … for legit any situation you could imagine. Need tweezers? He has ‘em. Hand cream? Ask him. You’re cold? Here, take his sweater. A spare DADA school book? Idk why he’d carry that around but he’s got you covered!

[general-kalani]

⭐ for Dennis and-or Jaden if you're interested

{ Prompt from here! }

SO I was finishing up icons on Joseph when you sent this in so LITTLE distracted lmfao but lets DO IT SO OFC I'M INTERESTED!!!! <3

Once again under a read more because fandom lengths!

Don't want to look at the read more? Overview here:

Most likely characters I'd throw at yours: Belorussiya, Knoxx and Steele, Hammerlock and Wainwright, Blake, Mordecai, TK, Zane, Harlock, Bruno(?), Muckenberger, Reinhard and Kircheis(?), Kesler, Sheryl, Claudia and Roy, Domel(?), Berger, Heiny and Wolf(?), Dietz, Gettoh(?), Vance, Sanada, Nazca(?)

Hmu if you want to discuss anything!!

Azur Lane: SEE I do think the boys would have an interesting time interacting with Belorussiya as WEIRD as that is, I really do think so. Probably because it's a COMPLETELY different fandom that no one expects out of left field. Also she has big ass guns so there's that too

Borderlands: I still gotta recommend Knoxx first up the CRAZINESS LMFAO PLEASEEEE, Steele on the side too because that poor girl is not paid enough

Vince? Absolutely not mans would again die on the spot LMFAO. Gd this is my own oc and I haven't recommended him ONCE in this whole debacle ig that's how much I hate him,,,

Hammerlock and Wainwright would once again though, adopt. Thank god Wainwright was there for that first thread instead of Hammerlock. Hammerlock would've convinced Wainwright to pick those two up LMFAO

Blake is a potential, only because he's interacted with Vault Hunters AND sirens before and that goes well with the bg you have!!

Katagawa would rather die, sorry-

Mordecai is literally friends with one so perfect slot, HOWEVER also a worry because well. Mans shouldn't be teaching a kid how to shoot a sniper rifle while drunk. (It goes well though I swear-)

ALWAYS GOTTA RECOMMEND TK BOY BECAUSE COME ON,,,, he funny :D

Do not let Ned near them jfc he'd do so many experiments to figure out how a male siren exists yk-

Zane has too much potential for shenanigans it would be WILD LMFAO

Far Cry: wahjdhjka THIS IS THE ONE I'M DEPRESSED ABOUTTT LMFAO dw not your fault, there's a lot of triggering content in Far Cry but at the SAME TIME- absolutely is for the best though that neither of these characters interact with yours

Harlock / Leijiverse: ONCE AGAIN gotta recommend Harlock. Come on. Space pirate adventures????? WHO WOULDN'T WANT THAT?????

Emeraldas would rather not babysit another boy through the galaxy so she's sitting this one out-

Legend of the Galactic Heroes: Anton and Oberstein are once again "uh oh" in this situation. Mostly because of the war going on so as I've already explained in the PREVIOUS post for this kinda thing, they kinda are too military focused so not a chance with these two lmfao

Bruno? Would probably show them the ropes of how to be a Minister of Industry but it's kind of a stretch.

Bittenfeld has disconnected-

Muckenberger would keep them out of the war any way he can. Some fortress in the middle of buttfuck nowhere? You know he's assigning them there. I do say "them" because child soldiers are a thing in lotgh and I REALLY need to tag that- other than that??? Come on, domestic life Muckenberger I am SOFT FOR-

Ovlesser doesn't want to babysit. Either they're GOOD enough to join his division or they're out. No ifs no buts no maybes. So not a good choice LOL

Reinhard and Kircheis I like to think would extend some kind of "immune to military service" thing if they ever decided to adopt two boys. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn't, I'm not considering it as a choice however personally but maybe you do who knows!!

Kesler my sweet baby boy, he'd train them in the ways of MP (Military Police) stuff, or how to command a ship. ANYTHING he's a good teacher he's so patient and can shut down any arguments.

Schenkopf would do the same as Ovlesser but he's a little more lax on the rules. Still not a good choice LMFAO

Macross Frontier: Sheryl's still kinda fickle in this kinda setting. I mean it COULD turn out to be a Basara Nekki situation where the boys become a band!! There ARE male singers they're just rare in the Macross universe for some reason. STILL, she can still be an influence to them to start a band! Or, in classic Macross fashion, pilots! Possibilities are very limited

Robotech: Gloval would definitely check up on them while they stayed in the civilian zone. Or check on how they're doing with military stuff (pilots, gunners, extra bs yk lmfao)

Claudia once again, best aunt. Spoils them rotten and then some. Roy's just along for the ride and gets dragged everywhere.

Lisa again isn't the best choice there's not much she can do other than go "you need to be more responsible!" Type stuff, not the best option but certainly better than Ovlesser and Schenkopf

Breetai, Khyron and Exedore are wondering how these children got aboard that's literally it LMFAO

Sins of a Solar Empire: Rebellion: See UNLIKE Azur Lane where there's potential there, these space boys don't have much potential unless your boys were the Commander or worked in construction for ship repairs or... Yeah very limited, no chance lmfao

Space Battleship Yamato: Similar to last post where it depends on verse with Dessler! Mostly he'd be wondering why they're not in the military

Domel's possibly either ignored them or let them play with the bird for a little while. Seriously idk why he goes everywhere with that thing!! Either way, very short thread unless there was human relations to work on Gamilan ships??? Again very limited.

Berger is the big brother to both of them even though he's suffering with depression. That's it those are the thoughts LMFAO

Heiny and Wolf are ignored for this post once again, unless they want an eccentric submarine crew that are very eccentric, battle hungry and trigger happy.

Dietz would like to roll to keep them out of battle and dangerous weaponry. Would also adopt them on sight because of his daughter. No in-between lmfao

Gimleh jfc would do as the last post stated just less; indoctrinate into the military or kill them for fun. That's it don't let him near.

Gettoh either trains them as pilots or he's leaving and ignoring them.

Vance has already mentally adopted one after that short thread HE WILL DO SO TO THE OTHER GIVE HIM T I M E-

The Talans are stepping back and away-

Sanada! Once again BL verse is similar to Ned where he'd experiment, lotgh verse he'd rather focus on finding Mamoru Kodai and main verse he'd probably let them work around the lab!

Gairen, Zwordar and Nazca would rather kill them than let them interact. Although once again Nazca might develop a weird big brother family thing that he's worried about because, well, feelings gets a man killed in Gatlantis!

[skelerenwrites]

skele(ren) writes

ren’s skeletons (n.)

characters i sometimes want to write, but can’t commit to full-time. mutuals only. follows back from / sideblog to @neverhangd . discord available upon request. ren, she/her, cst, 30+. this blog is a work in progress.

current skellies

*available only on request

*Taneleer Tivan (The Collector) | formerly @ofknowhere-blog (about)

*En Dw Gast (The Grandmaster) | formerly @firstofsakaar (about)

*Jareth (The Goblin King) | formerly @ofthelabyrinth (about)

Crowley (SPN) | @buggeredson (and many variations thereon lol | about) | tag

Sanguinous (vampire OC) | about | tag

rules below

I am forever mobile! That means I will always have to ask you to trim our threads. It’s literally nothing personal. The best I can offer otherwise is just to keep deleting responses from the original! If this super bothers you, I get it. Feel free to move along.

I’m literally 30. No callout culture nonsense, no roleplaying with minors (sorry kids), I don’t care if you need to vent but shove it under a read more and tag it. Dark themes present. Bad characters present. Don’t like, don’t follow.

Common triggers tagged, mutuals’ triggers tagged, triggers tagged on request. I’m sorry if I mess up and miss it sometimes, I’m only human. I’ll correct issues if they’re pointed out.

I do minimal formatting, but will generally try to match my partner’s formatting.

It isn’t the length of your writing, but the way you use it: everyone has more fun when things are give and take and the energy is matched

I’d love to be more active on Discord so hmu for that nonsense.

I love to ship. Platonic and familial is great and all but I’m a little bit of a romantic and I don’t get to express that side of my irl, so I use my writing to line vicariously through some things through my darlings.

Despite this, I am not my muse. Their thoughts and actions are not mine, etc. This is purely an exercise in self-indulgence and exploration.

I don’t like to insta-ship but I do encourage being upfront about thinking about shipping. It’s all about the chemistry, but having an endgame or a thought towards it isn’t a bad thing.

It’s on you to curate your own safe space. Hard and soft block as you see fit—but if you soft block without letting me know, please be understanding that I might not realize it and still reblog from or message you. Being straightforward is the harder path, but also the more rewarding.

Don’t be a dick, have fun, etc.!

[healbellls]

Shipping Info for Multimuses!

Answer the following for your muse so people know how shipping works on your blog.

Repost DO NOT reblog!

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER?:

In no particular order:

Eusine/Morty Drayden/Drake Dawn/Barry Rose/Juan

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO WRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?:

// I think it's easier to ask what I won't do for shipping.

My straight up "no's" are incest and any adult/minor ships, this isn't up for discussion.

On the subject of aging up characters: it depends on the muse and who's the mun behind it. Unfortunately, I've seen way too much discourse about it in the pokerpc which has left me feeling iffy about it, even if 9/10 times it is harmless (and I'm cool with it in other fandoms I'm in). It's just in the Pokerpc that I'm wary of it. I get it is a touchy subject to some ppl, especially to those who love jumping the gun and completely ignore what ppl are actually writing. But literally??? Everyone writes a form of post-series events verses/plot, and guess what? In my book, that counts as aging up a character, ppl just do it naturally. I've explained my stance on it, in my muses about docs. So, I'll keep it brief here. Just ask me if I'm cool with it or not, if something isn't clear.

Which leaves for last, any NOTPs (Falkner/Morty) I may have around.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?:

// I have no problem at all with age gaps between adult muses, in fact I quite like it, it is one of my favorite ship tropes! Things however get muddier, if we are talking about like teens-soon to turn adults (like those 17 y/o paired up with a 19 years old). While I don't see too much of a problem there, I'd rather keep this as something that's only really mentioned for HC/character development reasons.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?:

// Yes. Because I'm looking for chemistry between our muses, and we should bounce well as writing partners as well. I want our muses interactions to feel natural, and not like we are having to alter everything on them just to force a thread. With that said, I've mellowed out a lot, and it shouldn't take too much to convince me to ship with someone.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NS/FW?:

// Anything in the slightest suggestive, quickly gets tagged and put under read more around here. For smut interactions/threads, I have a full on blog dedicated just to that. With that said, I’ve been preferring to write NSFW on my Discord. I feel like it’s easier to write there in many aspects.

WHO ARE OTHER THE CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?:

// Lance/Morty, Riley/Morty, Brawly/Morty, Wallace/Morty, Ingo/Morty, Sabrina/Morty, Jasmine/Morty, Whitney/Morty, Drake/Drasna, Drake/Joseph Stone, Rowan/Oak, Juan/Wallace, Brendan/May.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?:

// Yes, obviously. I don’t do instant shipping, even for those I'm already pretty biased to, I really need that plotting and interactions/threads to go alongside it.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?:

// Depends on the muse you’re asking. Overall, I’d say I’m always down for discussing a new ship. Although, there are a handful of muses, that I just can’t feel a ship for rn (see: Brendan, Matsuba and Rowan).

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?:

// I try not to obsesses b U T, it happens sometimes. I won’t stand here and pretend like that wouldn’t happen.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?:

// Yes! All my muses here are multiship!

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?:

// I'll forever have a soft spot for Dawn/Barry and Eusine/Morty <3

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?:

// We sit & talk & write... Then hope for the best! No, seriously just HMU for shipping! I love plotting stuff!