#i tried to use them to get inside the actual fort in fort joy

[starfish-comics]

I got a bit excited to try out every possible use of my teleportation gloves and it led to some trouble.

#turns out just because you can teleport somewhere doesn't mean you should #i tried to use them to get inside the actual fort in fort joy #and got myself into a fight that I was NOT ready for #and had to figure out how the flee function worked in a hurry #divinity #divinity original sin 2 #dos2 #comics #sebille

[dingoat]

XXXXXX <_<

FINALLY I am done with these, have SIX REPRESSED MEMORIES for SIX CROSSES.

[Fair warning to all, there is lots of trauma and death in these memories so read ahead at your own discretion >.> The first couple are probably the worst, werewolf au has a lot of angsty times for everyone involved. Feel free to ping me if you'd rather know what you're getting into before reading!]

x - [Before he was Five] 

The night before, they’d stayed up late, conspiring in the fort in whispers that were too loud, overstimulated and giddy for the day to come. Excited in the way that only children ever could be, knowing each other’s hearts the way that twins often would. That morning, they’d been sitting beside one another, halfway through the excruciating torment of being primped and polished to meet their parents’ expectations, her hair full of ribbons (she actually didn’t mind the ribbons), his cheeks dusted unnecessarily into a permanent rosy blush (he wished he didn’t have to), but going through the process together always made it a little easier. Two hours ago, they’d bowed and curtsied their way through an endless parade of polite greetings and welcomes and displays of thanks; one hour ago, they’d snuck away with their arms full of food to share and feast on away from prying eyes, using their fingers and wiping dusted sugar off on their knees without their mother’s judgement or father’s disdain to spoil their simple joy.

Half an hour ago they’d been explorers, climbing trees and pressing their way through hedges, because even if the event was supposed to be for them there was no hiding the fact that it was really for the adults, to smile with too many teeth and compliment one another in ways that left each other feeling terrible. They weren’t missed, and they made the day theirs anyway.

Ten minutes ago, they’d found a way into their neighbours’ menagerie, and were enthralled by the beasts they’d never been allowed to see up close before.

Five minutes ago, she’d strayed too close.

Five.

Four minutes ago, the sounds must have been his, because his sister could no longer make them.

It would take another ten minutes for anyone to find him, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it was ten or ten thousand. No matter how forcefully he pushed those wretched minutes from his mind, he would never be the same.

x - [Wolf, trained by the Spheres]

“Don’t settle! DON’T.”

Her blunt claws scrabbled against the duracrete floor as she tried to put some distance between herself and the source of pain, but there was no escaping it, there was never escaping it, even though it was hard, it was so hard hard hard hard to stop her body from shifting completely, it was so hard hard hard hard to force herself back in the other direction. The pain only made it worse, that vile pulse that knocked the breath out of her and left her head throbbing. It made it so hard to concentrate so hard to know what to do, so hard to listen and press herself out of synchrony with the song of the moon but she had to, she had to or he’d make it happen again–

“What did I SAY?”

She yelped as her body felt as though it was pummelled from the inside and she stumbled and smacked her chin against the ground, biting her tongue as stars blossomed in her field of view. She wanted to she wanted to he was mad, she could smell it he was mad and she didn’t want to make him mad, it was just so hard so hard so hard to learn what she was supposed to but she’d never be a good girl if she couldn’t do what she was supposed to.

On her feet again, she scrambled to the far wall and flattened against it, ears pinned right back, eyes screwed shut, and she tried, she tried, she tried.

x - [Wolf under the Spheres]

She’d perfected it, so much so that the faint tickle of discord in her veins was something of a comfort, so much so that she no longer had to think about it. Her body naturally fell into an unfinished state, it recoiled against the idea of being in harmony with the moon.

It didn’t matter what exactly was left unfinished, certainly her Man didn’t mind if her ears were a little too long or her tail a little too short, he didn’t care about the exact width of her muzzle so long as her teeth were still good and long and sharp. But she enjoyed having a little more grasp to her paws, strong dew claws that she could flex and grip, digits that she could curl into the earth as she ran, paws shaped all the better to hold her prey. And so that was the state her body came to know as correct, that was the point to which she shifted when the moon rose and the crisp night welcomed her. To settle in full would be the greater effort now, to be a pure wolf was unthinkable, it made her flinch to even consider it. She huffed, her breath forming a cloud in the cool air, and padded out into the street.

When a fresh new pain bloomed in her mind, it was the type she knew how to silence, the type her long sessions with her Man had taught her how to focus on and deal with.

Eyes ablaze, she ran, and the alien in soft beige robes carrying a glittering blue light didn’t have time to comprehend what was coming her way.

The alien pushed defensively toward her, and she flashed her teeth with a wolf’s silent laughter as she rebuked, turning the push back upon its caster. There was just a moment of shock in the alien’s eyes as she started to piece together what she was dealing with, but that realisation wasn’t enough to prevent everything ending in blood.

x - [Wolf under Nines]

She liked the way she was just allowed to run now, sometimes. It wasn’t always killing, it wasn’t always the pain and the noise and the hunt hunt hunt until the pain was gone.

Sometimes, like tonight, she was just allowed to bask in the glow of the moon and feel the wind ruffle her fur, to watch the little clouds form in front of her face as she panted, warm with joyous exertion.

Never before, though, had she picked up that scent on the breeze, in the grass, and her heart leapt inexplicably when she detected it, when she recognised it.

It’s like me, like me. Smells like me.

She tilted her muzzle upward, little huffs and snuffs as she worked out the direction, stepping in slow circles. It wasn’t wolf that she smelled, not exactly, though she wasn’t sure how she knew. A little more musky, but that spice was undeniable, that unique little peculiarity that she knew belonged to herself, and to some of her earliest days of training.

The smell meant friend.

It didn’t occur to her that now that she had escaped from that life, that what was once a friend may well now be an enemy. Her thoughts and cares were all far too immediate to consider anything like that.

The smell meant friend, the smell was someone never ever ever to bare her teeth at.

Where was he? Who was he?

The grass rippled, and she spun, and dropped into a play-bow, splaying her front legs across the grass.

Where are you, where are you? Will you run? Will you play?

x - [Wolf under Five]

Death, again.

It had come back to this. It would always come back to this.

The body she dragged, clamped in her jaws, had been somebody. Dimly, she was aware that this was a whole life she had ended, but the concern over whether or not the death was warranted was no longer hers.

She’d given up her words, and with them, her soul.

A new face to whisper those words, to grin his loth-cat grin as she became still and calm and perfectly obedient. Bound to those words, and so, to his command.

She’d given up her words freely, because she’d proven that she couldn’t be trusted, could never be trusted, not even with those she held most dear. Not even with those who filled her heart, who’d made her believe, for a small while at least, that freedom was worth pursuing.

She was a monster, fit only to be bound and caged.

The body was heavy in her jaws, but it did not weigh on her nearly so much as the grief she carried on her shoulders. There was no joy to be found, when he told her how well she’d done. She could smell his savage delight, his excitement, but she shared none of it. She could see the triumph in his eyes, a man risen victorious over his own personal lifelong challenge, even if she could not know the cause for his all consuming desire for control. His desperate desire to never know the pain of his youth again.

Oh, how she hated him.

She laid the kill at his feet, and turned her back on him to clean her muzzle and her paws. She hoped he would speak the words again soon, and spare her the pain of a mind clear enough to know regret.

x - [Ahuska under Tython’s masters]

Day by day, she came to know the temple grounds and their surrounds better, in the time she was given to herself. To relax, to study, to explore… sometimes she wished for more direction, sometimes she wished for more teaching, because surely the faster she learned, the sooner she could actually make some useful headway toward…

She paused, twisting to look over her shoulder and watch the way he nosed through the long grass, his elegant little body always so silent as he slipped his way across the landscape.

Sometimes it was hard to imagine he’d ever been anything else.

She had to help him.

She gritted her teeth and moved on, wanting to find somewhere peaceful and private, somewhere away from the temple that seemed to grow noisier by the day, though now she knew it was because her ability to sense life through the Force was developing at a faster rate than her ability to do anything useful about focusing or walling herself off.

It seemed like the more acutely aware of the Force and its endless possibilities she became, the more overwhelming it all was. She’d been warned endlessly that her own impatience, her desperate need to see progress, was actually hampering her ability to achieve any of what she chased, but setting those fierce desires aside was a task unto itself.

Her feet picked out a trail, a thinning of the grasses that grew tall between the conifers, and-

Creatures made this trail, in the earliest hours of the morning. I’d been good, up until this point, letting the Masters know that I wanted to get up in the dark to see them pass through the courtyard. A family of slinky little beasts with fur that looked almost silvery in the moonlight, with webbed feet and huge bushes of whiskers at the ends of their blunt snouts. The little ones bit and snorted at each other as they followed their parents, but when one of them noticed me watching, where I sat at the edge of the fountain, it squeaked and darted to the adults, moving along with its whole body pressed along one of the grown beast’s flanks.

When they started to vanish from view, I decided to be a little less good, because I wanted to watch them just a little longer. I wanted to see where they travelled from, maybe even where they denned. I wanted to reach out gently through the Force, and see if there was anything they wanted to offer back. My bare feet followed their trail, where their nightly passage thinned the grass, weaving through the woods and down a muddy little slide into a gently flowing river.

She gasped, and froze, not knowing where the memory came from or why such a thing would feel so real. She’d never been to Tython before. Perhaps, if the memory had come from the wolf, she’d have a whole slew of questions that at least made sense to ask. As it was, she turned to make her own trail through the grasses, not wanting to see the river that she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, would be there waiting if she carried on.

Ridiculous. I’ve never been to Tython before. Certainly not to watch wildlife when I was a little girl. I’m from Ruweln.

She would find somewhere else. Somewhere that wouldn’t distract her with foolish fantasies. And she would try to clear her mind and listen to the Force.

#dingoat writes #werewolf au #ask meme #repressed memories #ahuska asks #five asks

[mochalate]

[1] precipice ; porco galliard

pairing: porco galliard/f!reader word count: 6.3k synopsis: Porco Galliard, with his grand total of ten years to offer, knows it’s stupid and selfish; but he falls in love anyway. warnings: descriptions of injuries, canon-typical violence, discrimination against eldians author's note: There's going to be a lot of drama, but I'll try to keep it real. nurse!reader. this is part 1 of 9. A biiiiig thank you to @wttcsms for being my biggest cheerleader ♡♡ Read on AO3? || See Masterlist? [Chapter 2->]

chapter 1: The Silence After a Gunshot

[Year 853]

Somewhere near Fort Slava.

The ceasefire agreement comes through at dawn, when the sun is still just below the waves on the horizon. 

“We should have finished this last night,” Porco says gruffly, despite the cheers that erupt from the Eldian unit. “This ceasefire isn’t going to last a week. And then we’ll just have to regain this ground. All over again. The fuck are they thinking?”

Pieck is still in titan form, and fully kitted out. She settles into a more comfortable position. The iron plates clatter as she rests herself on the ground. “I think it’ll last. For six months at least,” she rumbles thoughtfully in her deep, titan voice. “There’s supposed to be a drought this year. They’ll stir up trouble with Marley again when their citizens start starving.”

“Six months, joy.”

“Don’t mind him, Pieck,” Zeke says. He’s hunching over to light a cigarette, protecting his lighter from the salty breeze. “He’s just cranky after getting a plane load of bombs dropped on him yesterday.”

“That shit hurt. And these bandages are itchy.” Porco grumpily tugs at the gauze encircling his torso under his unbuttoned shirt.

He’s still not sure how the bombs managed to blow up seemingly everything but the nape of his titan body. Even hours later his titan regeneration hasn’t managed to fully heal the injuries. The steam is annoying, and Zeke’s dramatic complaints about it fogging up his glasses even more so. At least his toes are back. He wiggles them gratefully inside his boots.

Zeke takes a long drag from his cigarette. Porco absently wonders if he should take up smoking, just to see which would kill him first: the fucked up lungs or the titan curse. 

“Well, at least that nurse will be happy you’re getting your rest,” Zeke says, with an amused expression.

Ah, right. It’ll be the titan curse, because she would smack the cigarette out of his hand the second she saw it. He’ll be able to offer himself up to the Jaw’s successor with absolutely pristine, unblackened lungs. 

Something that had come a little too close to fruition last night.  

Porco tries not to think about last night. 

(And not only because it’s the closest he’s ever come to actually dying.)

“She's just looking out for us. I like her,” Pieck says.

She never accepts the invitation for a little griping. Porco thinks it must be a girl thing; but he doesn’t join in today either. 

Instead, he chooses to join Pieck on the ground, and leans comfortably against her (she never minds). He can see Fort Slava about a kilometre downhill. It looks like a fucking postcard, silhouetted proudly against the orange-pink sky and the ocean. He hates it, but he continues to look at it, just so it can distract him.

“...losing too much blood-”

“Will he live? Does the Jaw need to be transferred?”

Porco takes up a fistful of the sandy earth and lets it run through his fingers. Magath, that bastard. You’d think he’d get at least ten minutes before being put on the menu. 

Somewhere behind him, one of the foot soldiers fires a celebratory round into the air and is promptly told off by Colt; much to the amusement of the others.

The crack of the rifle makes Porco involuntarily remember the moment the first bomb fell, right in front of him. It had blinded his titan’s eyes instantly. And then they’d just kept coming, ripping and burning through muscle and flesh, titan and human alike; vaporising his blood and shattering his bones. Fire and brimstone. 

He shivers, and hopes Pieck doesn’t notice.

(He knows she probably does, but he also knows she won’t comment.)

When they brought him to the medical tent, he was barely aware where he was. If the fading sounds of artillery fire were because of the distance; or if he was finally, mercifully, about to kick it. And then a soft voice, calling him back from the edge.

“You’re going to be okay; I promise, I promise…”

Even now, the memory of it calms him. He wishes it didn't.

The nurse was a fresh graduate from Marley’s medical university; recruited as part of the Eldian unit’s medical team. The truth was, as far as the non-shifters were concerned, injured soldiers mostly needed a band-aid, a stiff drink, and possibly a hug; or a casket and directions to the nearest crematorium. There just weren’t a lot of options for canon fodder. 

For the Warriors, well, the only function modern medicine served was a slightly more pleasant recovery period. And the higher ups (as well as a good chunk of the Marleyans on said medical team) loathed Eldians receiving any more comfort than what they thought they deserved. Which was to say, none at all. 

Not her, though. Despite being a Marleyan, she seemed to go out of her way to set bones and disinfect wounds; even the ones that were already steaming and healing. It was as if she considered their regenerative ability a personal rival, one she woke up everyday with the sole goal of getting ahead of.

Until last night, it had irritated Porco to no end. What does she think she’s doing, playing at being some kind of guardian angel? he’d thought (and frequently said out loud).

Now all he can think of is how she’d sat with him for hours, brushing the side of his face, and murmuring comfort into his ear as he faced hell. How she squeezed his hand when the drugs kept wearing off, metabolised far too quickly by his titan blood. Her tired, relieved smile when he’d finally sat up on his own again; as if she had genuinely been worried he wouldn’t.

Porco knows these thoughts are dangerous.

“You’re staying in Liberio?” Claire asks in surprise, the blonde curls in her ponytail bouncing as she whips around to face you. “Why? Don’t you want to go home?”

“I just don’t think I need a break yet,” you say, as you fold up another towel. 

Claire is sceptical. She theatrically scrunches her brows to make sure you know it. Everything Claire does is theatrical. The woman belongs on a stage, not all the way out here in the Mid-East, in a beat-up medical tent, helping you pack up its contents for the long journey back to Marley. 

“You definitely need a break. Believe me, I’ve done this before. It’s so hard to wind down to a normal pace after you serve on the front line, but you have to. Before you have to do it again.”

She doesn’t seem to realise how ominous that sounds, as she continues boxing up the medicines. Her cheery demeanour is as impervious as the Armoured Titan, after the news of the ceasefire. She’s been even more energetic than usual, absolutely dancing around the tent as she clears the temporary shelves. 

You, on the other hand, are still a little shaken from last night.

Every time you close your eyes, you see Galliard’s mangled body.

Oozing blood has painted a macabre path from where two soldiers dragged him in. You can still hear the glass bottles shattering as Claire clears a table with a single swipe of her arm. The sickening squelch of your boots stepping in his blood as you and Claire try to stop the bleeding. The smell, god the smell, of blood and guts; his body so maimed and lacerated you can’t tell where one began and the other ended.

And the worst part: the laboured, wheezing breaths Galliard forces into lungs that aren’t all there any more. He’s still alive, and cruelly, he’s conscious. In the flickering light of kerosene lamps, you can see his eyes wildly jerking around in the sockets, mad with pain.

It’s so far removed from the usual strong, cocky soldier you’re used to, and it makes you want to cry.

“Shh, I know it hurts. We’ve got you,” you say, as calmly as you can manage, taking up his hand. It’s one of the only parts of his body not horrifically damaged. “Just a little longer.”

Commander Magath arrives shortly after. The first thing the man asks is if Galliard was going to live, or if you could keep him alive long enough to transfer the Jaw. You freeze up under his hard gaze. It’s absolutely devoid of emotion, in a way that chills you to your bones. You’ve seen people who were more upset when they had to put down their lame, decrepit horses. How could he be so unfeeling with a person’s life?

“Heavy bleeding from the femoral artery,” Claire announces then, sparing you from having to answer. “Cauterize, quickly.”

You leap to heat the cautery, but when you bring the red-hot iron closer to Galliard, you make the mistake of making eye contact. He looks like a trapped animal, watching the dully glowing metal with fear. You falter. Are you really going to add to his agony? 

Claire snatches the cautery from you and presses it into what’s left of his leg. His eyes roll back, and he weakly convulses on the table. You rush to pin him down by the shoulders so he doesn’t hurt himself further, while your vision blurs with tears. 

He doesn’t deserve this, no one deserves this. You’re not sure if he’s even coherent enough to understand, but you whisper soothing words into his ear, trying to give him something to listen to that’s not Magath’s callous inquiries.

Behind you, you hear Claire telling Magath, as only she dared, to clear out and allow her to save his soldier in peace…

You’re suddenly aware that Claire has called your name twice now. You suck in a sharp breath as you realise your mind has wandered back to last night again, as it has been doing for the past several hours. 

“Sorry, I’ve been so unprofessional since last night, I just-”

“It’s okay, honey. I know.” Claire comfortingly pats your hand. “But this isn’t the last time those Warriors are going to scare you.”

You shakily sigh. “I can’t believe he’s gone back to the front lines already. I almost screamed when he got up off the cot.”

Claire laughs. It’s so pleasant and airy you can almost pretend you’re just meeting for tea somewhere near Liberio’s fashionable promenade, and chatting about a particularly sleepy dog. Not hardly half a mile from a bloody frontline, with body bags piled up just outside, and the smell of gunpowder still choking the air. A place where you could have heard bombs falling like hail scarcely an hour ago.

“You get used to it. Somewhat. The trick is to have something utterly removed from the battlefield to think about. Something nice.” She grins and displays the back of her hand. A beautiful diamond ring glistens on her finger. “Something like this. I've seen you get plenty of attention, this much should be easy for you.”

You smile. You're happy for her, truly. “They’re all boors. I'm considering wearing a fake ring just to get them off my back.”

Claire rolls her eyes. “Oh, don't I know it. I promise you, they're much better when we aren't at war. It's just bad luck that you graduated when we're more than a year into an active conflict.” She brightens again. “Well, it's not active anymore!”

You hum in agreement and begin folding towels again. You aren’t quite done with this deployment yet.

The sun is higher in the sky now, and the already humid heat of the Mid-East coast is quickly becoming unbearable as the steam from Porco’s healing follows him around like a personal sauna. He impatiently bounces his leg as he waits for Pieck to be finished with her check-up. It doesn’t take long.

“At least try to not frown so much when you're about to be alone in a room with a girl, Pock,” She says as she comes out of the medical tent on all fours, “People will get the wrong idea.” 

It takes everything in him to not plant his boot between Pieck’s shoulders, where she's crawling on the ground. “Shut up,” he grumbles, still scowling. “I just want to get on the train and fucking sleep. It still hurts like a bitch.”

She grins at him. “Hang in there.”

He steps over her and goes inside the tent, using one arm to push the flap open, the other shoved moodily into his pocket. 

The tent is almost bare. The rows of shoddy wooden shelving have disappeared, replaced with a few stacked crates, mostly sealed. The carpet is rolled up and pushed to the side. The kerosene lamps have been emptied and cleaned, tops left open to dry. The only thing that's left from last night, as far as he can tell, is that damn table.

Even the fresh sheet can’t distract him from the brown stains in the dirt, where his blood had soaked through the carpet. 

“You should be sitting down,” says a voice from beside him, pulling him out of the unpleasant reverie. “It’ll have to be on a crate though, they took away all the chairs. Sorry.”

Porco looks to the side, and finds you, wearing an apologetic smile and your light blue uniform dress. The usual apron is missing, and he wonders if it's because he bled all over it. He stares a second longer than he should, and when you hesitantly gesture at the nearest crate, he prays you’ll attribute it to the absolute boat loads of morphine that were pumped into him last night.

(He knows it's long gone.)

The crate is a little too short, so he has to awkwardly extend his legs. “It’s fine, you know,” he says as he shrugs off his shirt, “I was going to be fine as soon as you stopped me from bleeding out.”

“That was Claire,” you murmur from behind him. “Lean forward please. Just a little.” 

There’s a gentle push on his bare shoulders. Pieck’s sly grin flashes through his head and he’s embarrassingly aware of how warm and soft your fingers feel; only accentuated when you place the cold, metal chest-piece of a stethoscope over his back. He breathes deeply when you ask, wincing a little as it stretches the wounds on his chest.

The stutter in his breath doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I can give you some more morphine if it hurts too much.”

Porco declines. He doesn’t trust himself on a high around you right now. 

A few breaths later, you're apparently satisfied with his lung regeneration, and begin to remove the gauze. It comes off easily. The dressing is a bit more painful, in all senses of the word. It pulls at the edges of his torn skin, and he fights to keep his breathing steady. The warmth from the damp washcloth you dab on his back feels like heaven after that.

“Not too hot?” 

“I was on fire when I got these injuries. No, not too hot.”

That gets a laugh. He tries to not be happy about that. “You can just say no, Galliard. I won’t tell anyone you weren’t acting the tough guy for a minute. I promise.”

I promise. Porco feels his ears go warm. “I’m not acting tough. You’re treating me like you treat your other patients, I’m just trying to remind you that you don’t need to.”

“I’d be a pretty bad nurse if I didn't treat everyone the same.” You move to his front, and kneel down for a better angle to work on the wounds across his chest.

Porco averts his eyes. You were being perfectly professional about it; but your position between his thighs, combined with the memory of Pieck’s comments, and his new found appreciation for your touch sends his mind to places it shouldn’t be going.

“You’re not going to be rewarded for giving Eldians extra care. In fact, you’ll get punished for it when the wrong person notices.”

“I know that,” you say. “I’m still doing it.”

There's something melancholy about the way you say it, as if it's not theoretical when you say you know. Porco so badly wants to ask, but he can't allow himself to indulge. He can't learn anything about you, and be left wondering about more. He needs to wait it out, wait for whatever surge of hormones has him acting stupid to wear off. That’s how it worked, right? The threat of death made animals want to mate, reproduce, preserve the species. 

Upsettingly, trying to recall the dry, scientific lines from his old textbooks doesn’t really do much to make the idea less appealing.

“Thanks for last night,” he says, with a cough. “I don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure you stopped Magath from feeding me to a Warrior candidate ten years ahead of schedule.” 

This doesn't elicit the laugh he realises he was subconsciously hoping for. In fact, you look dismayed as you prepare the gauze to go over his fresh dressing. “I’m sorry you heard that.”

“It’s not a big deal.” It really isn't. Everyone knows where the end of the line is for him, and there's no use dancing around it. 

You look like you want to say something. Maybe tell him to stop acting the tough guy again. You don’t. You just silently begin to wrap the gauze around his body. Porco figures the conversation is over.

But then, a beat later, “You’re being very nice today.”

Nice is something he’s very rarely accused of being. He thinks Reiner’s cousin Gabi might just have been the only one to ever call him that, right after he bought her an ice cream. And that was to get the little brat to stop chattering his ear off. Nice is what Pieck is, refusing to join in with Zeke earlier. Zeke was a goddamn psychopath, but he fooled enough people. Marcel had been nice too. And so was Colt.  In fact, if Reiner Braun (useless, with a stick up his ass, and moping about it) wasn’t in the unit, he was pretty sure he’d be last on that particular ranking.

(You were pretty darn nice as well, come to think of it, he’s only half-sure you were allowed to use up that much morphine on him yesterday.)

“Nice?” he repeats. 

There’s that laugh he wanted earlier. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. But this is usually about when you start telling me a Marleyan wouldn’t understand, that I should just mind my own business, and-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Porco groans. “I still think you don’t understand, though.”

“I probably don’t.” You straighten up. “All done. Keep them clean and dry. You’re healing nicely, so you should be able to take them off in three days. No strenuous activity, and definitely no transformations, okay? I’ll make sure the Commander knows too.”

Porco is sorry his appointment is over, but there’s no reasonable excuse he can invent to stay longer. So he gets up, and puts his shirt back on. Without any help. He needs to get himself together in the next three days, so he may as well start now. You hover around him for a few seconds while he’s clumsily doing up his buttons, but he refuses to give in to the temptation to allow you to help. He even declines another offer of painkillers. Finally, you let him be and busy yourself with something on a clipboard.

He’s halfway out the entrance when you call out to him.

“Galliard,” you say, looking a little too intensely at your clipboard, “I want to make sure you get your full ten years, so don’t be reckless out there.”

Porco thinks he could maybe take Fort Slava right then and there, all by himself.

You lean your head against the cloudy glass of the train window and watch the scenery going past. Night has fallen, but you can see the lights in the windows of the buildings that dot the landscape of rolling fields and hills. The closer you get to Liberio, the denser they become. 

Beside you, Claire and two of the other nurses are playing cards by lamplight. You can see them through the reflection in the window. You know who’s going to win- not Hannah, who’s frazzled and annoyed with her enormous hand; and not Claire, who’s not even looking at hers anymore, but admiring the glint of her ring in the flickering light.

“Claire, really?” Sophie asks, miffed. “You’re such a sore loser.”

“You keep winning, it’s no fun!”

Hannah looks shocked. “But the game isn’t over yet!” 

Sophie and Claire both look at each other, and then at Hannah (who seems to have acquired half the deck), before bursting out laughing. 

Hannah sets down her many cards and tugs at your sleeve. “Look at how they’re bullying me!”

You know Hannah, as bad as she is at cards, is more perceptive than she lets on; and that this is her way of making sure you're feeling included. You turn yourself to face your colleagues, not wanting to come off too aloof. 

“Well, I think that's enough cards for now,” Claire says, winking at you. “Let's just talk.”

“You just want to talk about your precious Eric again,” Sophie deadpans. 

Hannah, on the other hand, is enthusiastic. “How did you two meet?” she asks dreamily, twirling a lock of her curly hair. 

“It was just before I finished my last rotation at the university clinic,” Claire gushes. “A day later, and they wouldn't have assigned me to him!”

“He was definitely faking it by the end,” Sophie adds. They had graduated together, and she’d had a front row seat to the whole thing. “I told him to man up and confess, or I'd tell the doctors to schedule him for an enema. Not very romantic.”

Hannah laughs gleefully.

Claire scrunches her nose. “You never told me that! I wish you hadn't.”

“What's the first thing he ever said to you?” Hannah demands, determined to redirect the conversation back to a more romantic course. “Was it love at first sight?”

Claire pauses. “I don't remember. He was just a patient, then. He probably asked me for water or something. Or a pillow.”

“Are you going to keep your job?” Sophie suddenly asks, quite sharply. 

Claire waves her hand dismissively. “I don't know, maybe. Haven't thought about it.”

As Hannah gathers more information (she knows enough at this point to rival military intelligence, no doubt); and Sophie tries to get a more definitive answer out of Claire, you let your thoughts drift.

The very first words Galliard ever said to you, are “When are you leaving?”

You stop, mid-explanation of your credentials. “Excuse me?”

It’s late afternoon in a sweltering summer. You’re in the small clinic attached to the Warrior Unit’s HQ. Most of the day had been dedicated to patching up young candidates’ scrapes and bruises. One of them had a particularly nasty skinned knee; and another two had gotten into a fist fight and given each other black eyes. You’d even pulled a tooth. 

Claire, who you’d only met that morning, had asked you to handle a routine checkup so you could introduce yourself. Now, you wonder if she had just wanted to avoid Galliard.

“You’re Marleyan,” he says, looking pointedly at your upper arm. “You people either stay until you get married, or until your punishment is up. So which is it?”

“I-” You begin, face warming up, but you can tell from the uninterested look on his face that he doesn’t really care about the answer. You uncomfortably tug on your collar. He seems to hate you. Had it really been a mistake, coming here?

No, you couldn’t think like that. You owed it to her.

You try again. “Frankly, that is none of your business. Could you please step up on the scale?”

He has the audacity to look annoyed, like you were inconveniencing him instead of just doing your job. But he complies, and you run through the rest of the checkup as quickly as you can. 

Galliard, you note, is smaller than Reiner, who had come in earlier. You’d been intimidated by the holder of the Armoured Titan, but he’d turned out to be a much more subdued individual than you would have thought. He’d even thanked you when he left. Galliard, on the other hand, frowns openly at everything you say and do, his mood seemingly becoming worse as the appointment goes on. 

“Just some questions to finish, alright?” You almost heave a sigh of relief. Two more minutes, with simple yes/no prompts, and you could send this grating man on his way.

“Why do you keep asking?”

“What?”

“‘Is it alright’, ‘is that okay’, fucking ‘please’.” He says these things as if they’re the vilest profanities he’s ever heard.

“I don’t understand.” 

You really don’t. And you don’t like the way he’s glaring at you. It honestly makes you a little nervous. 

“It doesn’t make a difference if I don’t want you to do it, does it? Just drop the formalities.”

“I think that would be very rude of me.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t reply. 

“Hey,” Hannah begins. “Is it ever scary? Working in the Warrior Unit?”

Claire and Sara have fallen asleep; heads resting against each other. Hannah had brought out a packet of biscuits, smiling conspiratorially at you as she opened it and offered you one. 

The carriage is mostly silent now, so you make sure to keep your voice low. “Not anymore,” you say, after considering it. “Galliard used to scare me, but not anymore.”

Hannah offers you another biscuit and a curious look, inviting you to keep going. 

“He was just very… confrontational, in the beginning,” you say as you nibble on it. “I don’t even know why. He’s friendlier now.”

“Galliard, huh?” Hannah hums. “The boys in our unit were there when he got hurt yesterday. They all said they thought he was a goner. Glad you could save him.”

You swallow nervously. The way the light flickers across Hannah’s face reminds you too much of the lamps in the medical tent, and nausea rears its head. She sees the change in your expression.

“It was pretty bad, wasn’t it? You’ll get used to it,” she says soothingly, repeating Claire’s words from earlier. “Get some rest. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

You wish her a good night, and wrap a shawl around yourself. You make yourself as comfortable as you can on the poorly padded seat, and lean against the window again. 

You’ll get used to it. You have a hard time believing that. Maybe you would, ten years from now. And then you’d have to get used to it, all over again; with a new Warrior. One of those lovely little children who spent far too much time getting patched up. 

You think of Galliard. ‘It's not a big deal’, he'd said. You can't imagine how knowing your days were numbered, at an age when you were supposed to think you would live forever, would ever not be a big deal. But you could see in his face that he wasn't lying, and that seemingly hurts you more than it hurts him.

Somewhere, you know you're not treating Galliard like the rest. Changing his bandages this morning, you’d felt your heart twinge every time he’d tensed up with pain. You weren't this invested when you had to break and reset Pieck’s nose (it had healed too quickly in the wrong position), or when you had to dig shrapnel out of Grice’s calf (he’d downed so much whiskey to numb the pain, you had an entirely new problem on your hands by the end of it).

Those injuries weren't as severe, you tell yourself, that's all. 

(But that's a lie.)

I want to make sure you get your full ten years, so don’t be reckless out there.

As you fall asleep, you can picture his face as you dared to raise your eyes from that clipboard. None of that ire from that first meeting, none of the suspicion. For the first time, he’d looked like he believed you.

You know somewhere, a line has been crossed.

The train rolls into the station closest to the internment zone a little after day break. There’s a little way left to go to the city centre for the rest of its passengers, but the Eldians disembark here. 

Porco steps out into a cold, overcast morning he can only describe as grey- grey concrete buildings, a grey fog, and a grey sky. He helps Pieck off the high step of the carriage (she's not quite used to walking yet, even with a crutch, and it would be extremely embarrassing for everyone involved if this is where she broke her neck and died).

“My hero,” she says teasingly, and Porco scoffs.

“I expect you to rest and be fully recovered within a day, Galliard.” Magath says from the train window. “Look after yourself.”

“Nurse gave me two more days.”

“She’s not your commander.” Magath says curtly, and draws the curtain before Porco can reply.

“That’s Magath for ‘get well soon’,” Pieck says with a grin. “And we’re listening to the nurse now, are we?”

Porco pointedly ignores her and walks ahead (but not too far, just in case she needs help). 

A crowd has already gathered, just inside the gates at the internment zone. Their families, excited to welcome them home. Porco sees his mother. She's in the back, with Pieck’s father, neither of them quite strong enough to brave the pushing up at the front. She’s anxiously scanning the approaching soldiers, looking for him. When she finds him, relief blooms across her face, and he can't wait to give her a hug.

Beside him, Colt suddenly gasps out, “Falco, get down from there!”

He follows Colt's line of sight and sees his little brother clambering on top of a stack of rickety crates for a better view. Porco grins as he watches Colt march up to the fence, and sternly tell Falco to act civilised. 

He knows what Falco feels like, waiting for his brother to come home. He's glad that for Falco at least, that wait has ended.

The gates open, and Porco makes a beeline for his mother.

She meets him halfway (Mr. Finger is close behind), and immediately reaches for his face. “I think you’ve gotten taller! Look, I need to stand on my toes!”

She says this every time; and every time, Porco laughs and hugs her. Every time, he feels like she’s gotten thinner, frailer. And he’s terrified of her making it through the next ten years when he’s no longer around, and also of her not. 

Mrs. Galliard suddenly pushes her son away with surprising strength. “What’s all this under your shirt?”

“Nothing.”

The look on his face, like a child hiding a bad report card, makes her narrow her eyes. “Porco Galliard-”

Mercifully, Pieck intervenes. (She gives him a look that says I'm paying you back for earlier.)

“Hello, ma’am! You’re looking well.” She throws a hand over his mother’s shoulders, once again making her nice-ness known. “Don’t worry about Pock here, our nurse was just being cautious. I’m sure he’s healed up already!”

She’s his mother, so she still gives him a worried look, but seems to believe this. “I hope you made sure to thank her, Pock,” she says fretfully. 

He assures her he did, even though he can’t really remember.

“Is she here?” his mother asks, looking around. “If she’s taking good care of you, I need to bring her some soup, at least-”

“Ma, she’s Marleyan,” he says gently. “You can’t go to her.”

She deflates, ever so slightly, but he can see it. The lightness he’d been carrying in his heart, after he’d seen you last, suddenly seems so silly. There’s no happy ending to that story.

Porco’s mother’s table isn’t the only one you’ve gotten an invite to. No, that was just an occupational hazard when you worked with Eldians. One that Porco knows of, is from Colt Grice. 

It was about a month into their last deployment.

If Porco had known Colt would take the thirty minutes he’d been left alone to get shit-faced, he wouldn’t have gone.

“I’m cured, it doesn’t hurt anymore!” Colt slurs, swinging his legs off the bench. He tries to stand, and his knee promptly folds, sending him stumbling. 

Porco catches him by the arm before he can fall on his face. “Who gave you the whiskey?” he asks, wrinkling his nose. Colt reeks of alcohol. 

“That was me, we ran out of anaesthetic. I’ll get you crutches, Grice, I just need to- find them-” 

You’re rummaging through disorganised piles of equipment that are almost five feet high- what the soldiers had managed to retrieve from the burning wreckage of a supply warehouse. He can still see it smouldering in the distance.

A group of rebels in the city they’d just captured had made a last-ditch effort to hurt the Marleyan military, planting bombs throughout their camp. It had been pointless, causing no deaths. But they’d lost the warehouses, and there was a plethora of injuries; mostly from the shrapnel. Porco’s own cuts were already closing up; but Colt’s leg had been injured, and he’d had to half-carry him to where a make-shift field hospital had been set up. (Literally in a field, since the other viable buildings were currently in flames.)

Porco watches you try to get a pair of crutches out from under a pile, feet planted on either side, and putting your whole weight into it. It doesn’t budge. He feels a bit sorry for you- you look exhausted. The medical team had been pulled right out of their beds, so your hair is undone; and he sees both blood and grass stains on the robe hastily pulled over your white nightdress. 

“You’re never going to get that out, move.”

You move aside without protest, and gratefully accept the crutches when he yanks them out. Porco isn’t sure Colt quite grasps your words when you’re telling him to not put too much weight on his leg until it heals up a little more; his eyes are only half-focused, and he keeps checking the now-empty bottle for more booze.

“Come over for dinner.” Colt says suddenly. 

Even in the semi-darkness at the edge of the lamplight, he sees your eyes widen in shock. “What?”

“I need to thank you for saving my leg,” he says, even more earnestly, grabbing your hand clumsily, making you pitch forward. “My mother makes the greatest mashed potatoes, you won't regret-”

Porco pulls him back by the collar. “That's enough, Romeo. You're going to get written up for harassment. Or worse.” He makes him lie down on the bench. “Sleep it off. Apologise when you're sober.”

Colt is supremely offended. “How dare you,” he says, face flushed with both alcohol and indignation, “This is a platonic invitation, you hear me? Platonic!”

Porco observes you in the corner of his vision. Platonic or not, Colt wouldn’t have a good time if a Marleyan reported him for harassment. But you don’t look angry at all, just incredibly embarrassed, still staring at the hand he’d grabbed. 

“The leg wasn’t even in any danger…” he hears you say to no one in particular, sounding a bit faint.

Porco wrestles the empty bottle out of Colt’s grasp, maybe a bit more roughly than he needs to. 

Porco’s mother stops in front of their door, with her hand on the key. The poor lighting in the hallway emphasises her nervous expression. She looks like she's working up the courage to say something.

He reluctantly leaves behind his daydreams of eating her cooking. “Ma?” he asks. Something feels wrong, but he has no idea what.

His mother is just as bad a liar as he is, so she doesn’t even try to pretend everything is fine. “You have to stay calm.”

His bandages feel itchy again. “Ma-”

“Porco, promise me-”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Mrs. Galliard swallows nervously. “He’s here.”

“He? He who?” 

“Your uncle. My brother.”

Porco is stunned into silence for a moment. Then he shoves the door open, trying to convince himself it’s just a bad joke. Maybe there’s a surprise party in there. Maybe she redid the kitchen. He’d settle for some changed wallpaper, even.

But everything is the same- the faded floral wallpaper, their threadbare couch with the cosy knit blanket thrown over it, and his mother’s medicines on the side table.

Everything is the same, except for the man sitting at their dinner table, like a particularly nasty stain. He looks so much like Porco’s mother; and that, in his opinion, is among the worst of his sins. 

“Hey there, Pock,” the man says nervously. “You've gotten tall.”

Porco sees red. He sees the military police knocking on their door, he sees his father being dragged away and shoved in the backseat of a car. He sees his mother pleading with them, and he sees how they cruelly shove her away, faces twisted in disgust.

“Why,” he spits, taking rapid steps towards him, “have you not gone and died in a ditch somewhere?”

“Didn't you miss me even a little?” The man leaps up so fast his chair screeches. The tone he attempts is light-hearted, but it's strained. He's wary, and for good reason. 

His mother puts himself between them. “Pock, honey, calm down. He came because he needed help. He's family.”

“Family doesn’t leave and let others take the blame-”

“I couldn’t just turn him away, could I?” she says, desperately. “It’s just for a little while.”

Porco directs his question to his uncle. “How long is a little while?”

“I just need to get some things in order. A week.”

He curls and uncurls his fist, mentally counting down from ten. As much as he wants to punch him in the face, he can't. At least not in front of his mother.

“How about we have a drink and talk it out, Pock? We can head to the lake, just like your dad and I used to.”

Porco takes a swing.

Thank you for reading!! If you enjoy this, you will enjoy @wttcsms fic daylight. You may just enjoy it even if you don't like this one. Give it a shot, you will NOT regret it!! And maybe keep an eye out for some easter eggs ;)

[Chapter 2->]

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#porco galliard x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #angst #fluff #my fic #snk precipice

[alltooreid]

Call It What You Want

Everyone around them is trying to discover the true nature of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship. Little do they know Y/N is trying to figure out the exact same thing. 

A/N: Sorry this took a lot longer than I wanted it to.... Mental health is hard but here it is!! I hope you guys love it :)) Additionally I added a lil garvez to this... but for it to work with the timeline we’re all just gonna pretend Lisa doesn’t exist... ok great!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (with a little splash of implied Garvez content for my personal joy)

Requested?: Yes!! :)) “can you do a one shot based off call it what you want??”

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 3K

Content Warnings: None! 

“My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene Loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to”

The team was sure something was going on between Y/N and Spencer, they just weren’t sure how to prove it.

Every sign pointed to the two dating, but the pair hadn’t said anything about it. Maybe they were trying to keep it a secret, but at the same time they didn’t appear to be being very secretive about it.

So ever since Penelope saw Y/N giving Spencer a ride home a week ago, she has been determined to uncover the truth, and hopefully the truth was her two best friends were in the world’s cutest, most perfect relationship.

She was using her technical brilliance to gather data when she was caught by none other than Luke Alvez.

“What are you doing in here?”

“This is my job Luke, I have to be in here,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I know that! I mean what are you doing right now, we don’t have a case.” he smirked “Are you committing any cyber crimes? You know you could get in a lot of trouble for those, the FBI won’t help you. You should let me help.”

She smiled, “You do know I got my job here from committing cyber crimes right? I don’t think I would need your help. Besides, I’m working on a personal project.” After some thought she decided Luke might actually be helpful “I’m trying to find out if Spencer and Y/N are dating.”

“I swear I saw them leaving together yesterday, that seems like pretty good evidence! I could be very helpful to you.”

“I’m way ahead of you, but I guess you can help,” she pulled up a new tab, quickly constructing a timeline while Luke pulled a chair next to her. “So our favorite pair’s relationship would, based on my intense experimentation and surveying, begin here,” she traced a circle around the start of the timeline with her cursor, “on that night we went out after the case and then wouldn’t stop talking to each other.”

Luke and Penelope discussed all the things they saw that led them to believe that Y/N and Spencer were more than just friends, from how keen Y/N was to listen to anything that came out of Spencer’s mouth no matter how difficult to follow, to Spencer’s willingness to touch her. After about 15 minutes however they were interrupted by none other than Y/N herself. Penelope quickly switched tabs, so that it now appeared she was just showing Luke a funny kitten video.

“Hey guys! What are you doing in here?” “Oh you know, just wasting time. . . What’s up?” said Luke.

“I was just checking to see if you wanted to go to lunch! If you have any opinions as to where that would be great too because no one out there can make a decision . . .”

“Of course I want lunch! I’ll be out there in just a sec,” Penelope smiled and started closing her work done as soon as Y/N left, almost forgetting Luke’s presence.

“Um, Penelope?”

“What is it Luke?”

“Do you think you’d ever do anything like what Y/N and Spencer are doing?” he asked.

“Like what? Keep a secret? You know I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“No, no I mean like . . .” he took a deep breath, “You know, like dating a coworker?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Now hurry up and come to lunch, we can keep working afterwards,” she replied.

Luke awkwardly smiled, and they both left.

Little did Luke and Penelope know that as they debated and pieced together aspects of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship, trying to uncover if they were dating, Y/N was doing the exact same thing.

Her and Spencer had been on three dates, each more boyfriend and girlfriend than the last. They got coffee one day, then went to a movie, then a nice restaurant for dinner. Tonight Spencer wanted to keep it a surprise, but that just made her even more confused.

Sometimes her and Spencer would sit next to each other at the round table, and now when they did that he would reach over, not to hold her hand, but just to link their pinkies together.

She didn’t know what that meant.

Sometimes Y/N would go on a tangent and realize she had been talking for almost an hour about nothing in particular, and when she realized Spencer was the only one still listening would apologize for wasting his time. To which he would reply, “Why would I be upset about spending time with you?” She didn’t know what that meant.

And one time, on her and Spencer’s first “date” they were about to part their separate directions, and Y/N had no idea what to do with her body or her hands, Spencer wrapped her into a hug, and she swore she felt his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She really didn’t know what that meant.

Which is why she continued to let Penelope and Luke have their fun trying to decipher her and Spencer’s social cues. She knew as soon as she was about to enter to ask about lunch, Penelope was not exactly quiet and Luke wasn’t any better, but she let them believe they were being sneaky.

Besides, maybe if they found the answer they could let her know.

When the team returned from lunch she couldn’t help but continue to contemplate this issue further, Spencer hadn’t really said anything to her at lunch. Were they still just friends? Were they dating but not telling anyone? Were they going to tell anyone?

“Y/N! Are you excited to hang out tonight?” Spencer asked.

Hang out. So it definitely was not a date. . .

“Of course! Right after work right? Your place?”

“Yep! It’s a date,” he smiled and walked away, leaving Y/N in a state of confused panic. What was this? For someone so logical and scientific, Y/N wished that Spencer Reid would just tell her the kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, and genus of their relationship.

Maybe then she could stop dissecting it to try and figure it out.

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

As Y/N stood outside Spencer’s apartment building, she struggled to muster up courage to go inside. It’s not that she was nervous to hang out with Spencer, it was just Y/N knew she needed to have the “what are we” talk with him for her own personal sanity. And she just wasn’t sure yet what his answer would be.

She had made her way into the building and gotten to Spencer’s floor when she ran into the man of the hour himself.

“Oh there you are! I was about to come down and get you,” he said.

Y/N glanced at her phone, “I’m sorry, am I late?”

“No, no, no. You’re perfect, I just got excited.”

That confused Y/N even more, she couldn’t decide if that leaned more towards friend or date territory. However all of her anxieties were forgotten for a moment as soon as she entered Spencer’s apartment.

Almost all the lights were off, except for several strings of lights shaped like stars, strung in different directions across the room. In the corner were several folded up blankets and sheets, and pillows were spread out across the room.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, although if I’m being honest I don’t really know what it is . . .”

“13 months ago we were on a case, the one were the unsub was killing couples when they went out camping so that no one would look for them for days, and you said that you used to go camping all the time but you didn’t think you could go anymore. So I bought stuff so we could go camping together, right here.”

Y/N was left almost speechless, “I- I don’t even know what to say, Spencer this is incredible.”

He beamed, instantly satisfied with that answer. “I tried to find a tent, but all of the stores I went to said I should order one online . . . I figured it would be more fun to build a fort instead.”

Spencer brought over the supplies he had bought and gathered, various sheets and comforters, pillows, his leather couch cushions, sleeping bags, a large collection of clothes pins, and some more lights. Except Spencer left a single bag in the pile, the only one from a craft store.

“Do you want me to grab that one?” Y/N asked.

“Oh um, no don’t worry about that one. I saw something stupid on that site JJ and Garcia really like while I was passing JJ’s desk. . .  Pinterest? Yes that’s it. And I tried to make it but even though I memorized the instructions I couldn’t get it to work. . . I kind of just gave up and threw everything in there.”

“Can I try it?”

He nodded, and Y/N got up and glanced into the bag, in it was a push light, warm toned tissue paper and a couple empty paper towel rolls, all stuck together, but also somehow falling apart. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, “Were you trying to build me a campfire Dr. Reid?”

“Well you said that your family used to have this big bonfire every year, and that it used to be one of your favorite traditions until you couldn’t handle going anymore, so I thought I could make one that would be a little safer for you. Turns out that you actually need four PHDs to be good at crafts though.”                    

“Spencer this whole date is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me . . . Thank you.”

“Of course, I really want you to enjoy yourself when you're around me Y/N.”

“Spencer, I’ve never not enjoyed myself when I’m around you, and you were with me when I got shot. You’re my favorite person, you do know that right?”

He blushed, “You’re my favorite person too Y/N.”

So the two lovers built a blanket fort, draping sheets over string lights and shoving the inside full of pillows and blankets, giggling the entire time. Y/N taught Spencer the simplicity of DIY projects, and how sometimes the directions needed to be adjusted slightly based on personal preferences and ability. Soon the pair were cuddled up together on the ground, no other space to be except for right next to each other, as the rest of the fort was covered by snacks, pillows, their homemade campfire, and Spencer’s vinyl record player.

“Did you do this on purpose? Making me be so close to you?”

“No, I would never, it’s not my fault this area is so small . . . “

“Mhm, although I’m sure a genius like you could figure out how to make an adult sized fort, I’m very glad you didn’t,” she said, giggling and squishing herself closer to him. They smiled and kissed each other, before Spencer spoke.

“You make me so, unbelievably, happy. I never thought I could feel like this until we met Y/N.”

Y/N smiled even bigger, “Spencer I really, really like you,” she paused, it was now or never, “but um, what do you want to call this, like what we’re doing.”

“Well what do you want this to be? Because I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She smiled, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Well then that’s what we’ll be,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

“Well you do know the team, particularly Penelope and Luke have the exact same question.”

“Well I think more than Luke wondering if we’re dating, I think he’s just wondering if Penelope will date him. . . So I say let them have their fun for a little while, before we tell everyone.”

She smiled, “Perfect. They’re profilers, they’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, I think we should watch a movie. . .  Although I mostly enjoy my cinema in Russian, tonight is about you and I don’t want to give you a headache. What’s your favorite?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I will not laugh at you darling.”

“High School Musical 3.”

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

So Y/N spent the rest of that night explaining the plot of the first two High School Musical movies, then explaining why the third one was the clear winner, and then finally showing Spencer the third one off of her phone, where she had it saved to her cloud for emergencies.

And although singing and dancing adults pretending to be teenagers was not exactly Spencer’s favorite genre, he loved how happy the series as a whole made Y/N. So he latched onto it, and learned as much as he could about it.

One particular scene however, in one of the earlier films, seemed to make Y/N extra excited, as she spent the longest amount of time talking about it. So Spencer decided he knew exactly what to do to prove to her he was in this relationship for the long haul.

Spencer could tell she was anxious before their date, and it didn’t take him long to guess that it was because she didn’t know how serious everything was to him. Yet, he didn’t want to be too obvious that he wanted her to be his, because if he had assessed wrong he would make a complete fool out of himself.

But when she asked him, she seemed so nervous, so small, he knew he had made a mistake in waiting, and now he wanted to make it up to her.

So as she was walking in the next day he caught her. “Y/N!”

“Hi Spencer! What’s up?”

“I have a present for you. . .” he said, handing her a small box wrapped in shiny gold paper.

“For me? Why?”

“Oh you know, just because. . .”

As Y/N unwrapped the box, Spencer got more and more nervous… What if she hated it? What if she thought it was stupid or too soon or didn’t get it or-

“Oh my god Spencer I-”

“You know what it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I got it for you. I can return it and find you something you’ll actually like-”

“I love it Spencer, it’s perfect. Will you put it on me?”

Spencer hooked the chain around his new girlfriend’s neck, the small “S” pendant shining in the light.

“It’s like Gabriella’s. . . I love it. I can’t believe you would care to remember something like that…”

“Of course I would remember that. I have an eidetic memory. Did you know that although the original purpose and origin of initial jewelry was largely unknown, they date back to the 14th century?”

“No, I just mean… It’s very thoughtful Spencer.”

He smiled, “Well I’m sorry to kill the mood, but I really have to go to the bathroom. I drank 3 cups of coffee this morning and I was standing here waiting for you for 18 minutes and 4 seconds before you came in.”

She laughed, and then hugged him, “Well don’t just stand here! Go!”

Spencer ran off, leaving Y/N to walk into the bullpen alone. As Y/N was making her way to her desk, she was stopped by none other than Penelope Garcia and Luke Alvez, Penelope up front, Luke standing a foot or so behind her, ready to back her up.

“Y/N! We know your secret, you and Spencer are secretly dating. . . We figured it out this morning. You can’t hide from us anymore,” Penelope said, Luke nodding behind her.

“Well yeah we’re dating, but it’s not a secret.”

“What? Excuse me? You haven’t told anyone!”

“Yeah but we haven’t really made any effort to hide it? We told everyone about the time we went to the movies?”

“Yeah but- Um, we just thought we were being sneaky. . .” Penelope said.

“You might wanna get a little better at that guys, the Bat Cave is not soundproof.”

“Dang it, I really need to work on that…” Penelope said. “Well Luke Alvez, I suppose our quest has been conquered.”

“See! We were right, I told you I’m great help,” Luke said.

“Oh don’t get it too twisted, this was almost all me.”

After a moment of playful banter, Y/N stopped them “So when are you two going to start “secretly” dating huh?”

“Uh hmph, I don’t know what you talking about. I would never,” Penelope said.

At that moment, Spencer returned from the bathroom, and came up upon Y/N hugging her from behind and leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. “What are we talking about?”

Penelope threw her head back in defeat, “Nothing, 187, we were just talking. . .”

“Don’t you think Luke and Penelope would make the cutest couple Spencer?” Y/N smirked.

“You know what? Yeah I do!” Spencer played along, “Have you guys ever thought about that?

Luke was beaming behind Penelope, while she looked like she was trying to hide her enthusiasm. “No actually I haven’t,” she said.

“Well you definitely should,” Y/N said, giggling as her and Spencer walked to his desk.

“Hey, wait come back here! What does your necklace have on it?” Penelope asked, half running after them, Luke closely behind her.

“Whatever you want Penelope, whatever you want.”

“I want to wear his initial On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck Not because he owns me But 'cause he really knows me”

Thank you so much for reading!! Please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup​ @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup​ @s1utformgg​ @averyhotchner​ @widow-cevans​ @rotinireid​

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed :))

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #reid #Criminal Minds Reid #reid fanfic #reid fanfiction #reid fluff #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #reid fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #reid x reader #reid x y/n #reid x you #spencer reid taylor swift #spencer reid one shot #reid one shot #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid request #spencer reid insert #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid self insert

[deathflm]

hi scythe! how are you? :D

could I request a thoma x reader, fluff one-shot? (also it's my first time asking something like this and i have no idea how to do it 'correctly' 😭 sorry <3)

SNOW — THOMA

thoma’s missing one specific part about mondstadt, so you try to help him bring back memories!

warnings: pre-established relationship, inazuman! reader, mention of food, unedited!

note: hi anon<33 i hope ur doing well!! since u didn’t rlly say what u wanted in it, i did some domestic fluff i hope u don’t mind!

despite being born in mondstadt, there wasn’t much thoma missed about the region. it had its charm, he had to admit, but its biggest charm was the winter snow. that was one thing he would never stop missing, no matter what. you heard his stories of playing around in the snow during the cold winter weather, and although you couldn’t relate to his stories, you still listened intently. it was endearing watching his face light up with joy as he recounted different childhood memories. those memories obviously held such a big place in his heart.

this had you thinking of ways to help him relive such precious memories. now, you wouldn’t be able to go all the way to mondstadt with him for the winter but perhaps there was something you could do in inazuma too mimic it. the idea of a pillow fort fell so perfectly into your lap as you were attempting to rack your brain for answers. although it’s definitely no snow fort or anything like such, surely it would be enough. besides, it would be much easier to make than a snow fort. especially considering any snow here would probably melt after only covering the smallest layer on the ground’s surface.

though as you began to make the pillow fort, you realized that it was definitely not as easy as a snow fort. the pillows kept falling and the blankets too. when you tried to use books to hold the blankets down, it just came crashing, almost knocking you out in the process when you tried to go inside. your hopeless struggle was heard by none other than thoma himself— either that or building it in his room when he was out wasn’t the best idea. even so, the moment you walked in the door you instantly froze and stared at him. you seemed like a child who had been caught sneaking candy by their parent. for no reason at all, you felt undeniably guilty. maybe it was because it was supposed to be more of a surprise.

“what are you doing?” the array of blankets and books around his room confused him. the hoard of pillows didn’t help clear it up either and actually further him perplexed. despite trying to think of a possible explanation for what you were doing, he absolutely couldn’t. he wasn’t mad though, he couldn’t be mad. it’s not as if you were hiding a body or something that criminal, you simply were hoarding pillows, blankets, and books in his room. obviously it made no sense, but this wasn’t the first time you had done something that made no sense at all.

“i’m making a pillow fort for us,” you told him as you started to build the structure again, only for one of the books to get pulled down by the blanket and come barrelling towards your head. luckily, thoma was able to grab the book before it caused you any harm.

“you’re gonna get a concussion!” he playfully scolded you, knowing that the soft cover book would probably only leave a scratch. even so, he knew it was better that he helps you instead of leaving you to do this on your own. neither the books nor blankets and pillows were cooperating for you, so maybe he would be able to make them stay in place.

you moved out of his way and grabbed one of the blankets from the side. you gently handed it to him as he brushed his warm fingertips against yours, probably due his pyro vision. nonetheless he was warm. you had worried about the possibility of him feeling hot inside the fort. perhaps his heat is the reason why he enjoys the snow so much. the frigid weather was definitely no match for him.

once you two had finished assembling the fort, you crawled in and this time— nothing came down on you. it was a great success! although it did come at the cost of the surprise. as you sat there, waiting for thoma to join you in the fort, you realized that he had left the room. confused by his sudden disappearance, you had went to get out of the fort only for him to walk back in the room and scold you for trying to, in his words, run away. you sat back down and waited for him to crawl through the entrance.

thoma lifted the blanket used for the entrance and slide forward a tray of snacks, one he had probably made for later, but was kind enough to bring it out now. the assortment of snacks was rather overwhelming and they all were plated nicely. you would never underestimate his skills as a housekeeper. you mumbled a thank you to him in which he simply nodded in response before scooting his way over to you in the small fort. you were sat in one of the corners but you were too far away in his eyes. hence why he ended up lying down with his head on one of your thighs.

he had been up since early morning doing work for the kamisato clan and arranging important events that were coming up. despite this, he didn’t look tired at all. his eyes showed no sign of fatigue. they glowed brightly in the rather dark pillow fort and his skin gleamed.

with those bright eyes he asked, “why do this?” a small smile was on his face. he looked utterly content. the question itself wasn’t one of demand, as if he needed a response, it was more so out of curiosity. whether you responded or not, he would’ve still enjoyed this. as you sat in the calming silence for a moment, his head on your leg which reminded you of his presence

you quickly mumbled your explanation, “you always tell me about snow and how miss it– playing with it. so the best thing i could think of was a snow fort but not really a snow fort.” your response made him let out a chuckle as he thanked you for always being good to him.

apparently, you had sparked a memory. so as he rambled on about his adventures in a snowed over, you took this as a chance to lean down and gently press a kiss to his forehead. although thoma didn’t seem phased by this, you could see his grin grow slightly larger.

ᵕ̈ ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏⁻ ⁻ ⁻ ✧ ༝ 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 ☠︎︎ 𝔣𝔩𝔪 ⁹₉⁹ ❤︎

#🧺.gi #🐁.thoma #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact oneshot #genshin oneshots #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #thoma #tohma #genshin tohma #come home please

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself. 

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence,  now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A  beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.” 

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.  

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition. 

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Oneshot #Self Insert #Marvel #Disney #Fluff #Fem! Reader #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader

[ayybtch]

Alcoholic Juice Box

Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Adulthood sucks. You know what doesn’t suck? Blanket forts and alcoholic juice boxes.

Word count: 1,773

Warnings: Liberal use of the word ‘fuck’ and variations of the word ‘fuck’, brief mention of financial troubles, brief mention of crappy friends and family who are too focused on their own nonsense to care about the well being of anyone else, alcohol mentions and some alcohol consumption at the very end.

A/N: This maybe got a tad personal and self indulgent (oops). Before anyone asks, yes this was my actual stress response. I’m not proud of it but it worked! 😂 also, a very special thank you goes to the lovely @kellyn1604​ for giving this a quick read for me 💕

A Mutual Weirdness Masterlist 

Bucky sighed in relief as he finally sat down in the back of the Quinjet. He, Sam, and Steve had been on a mission nonstop for the past twelve days tracking down Hydra agents. His whole body ached and he was desperate for some normal human interaction. Specifically, he was desperate for normal human interaction with you. All nonessential phone calls or text conversations had been prohibited, so it truly had been twelve days of uninterrupted Steve and Sam. Normally they made for great company and he enjoyed being around them. But now? Now Bucky was almost ready to never see their faces again. He thought on multiple occasions during the mission that all SHIELD trainees should have to endure Sam’s singing for hours on end as a part of their hostage training. If they can survive that with Steve’s occasional attempts at harmonizing, they can survive anything.

Once the Quinjet was in the air, he took out his phone and sent you a quick text saying they were on their way back. Not even a minute later, Bucky’s screen lit up with an incoming Facetime call from you. His heart surged at the thought of seeing you hours before he initially expected to and answered without a moment's hesitation. The smile written on his face fell as soon as he saw you.

You looked terrible. The exhaustion he felt after twelve days of work suddenly seemed like nothing compared to the exhaustion written on your face. You tried to smile at him, but the smile didn’t fully reach your eyes. Bucky’s gut twisted.

“Doll, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice dripping with worry.

You tried to nod yes but burst out in tears instead. The tears kept coming and after a few minutes, Bucky really started to worry.

“When you feel ready, take a couple deep breaths for me. Tell me what’s going on so I know how to help.”

It took a few minutes, but your tears started to slow and your breathing began to even out. Bucky smiled at you reassuringly as you took a few deep breaths before starting to talk.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry. You’ve been on a mission and here I am crying before you even had the chance to say hello,” you said, wiping away a stray tear rolling down your cheek.

“These past few days have just been really hard. Well, the past couple of months really, but everything’s starting to hit me all at once. School sucks, I can’t believe they’re allowed to charge me what they are. College is stressful enough as it is, why does paying for it have to be challenging too? I work thirty hours a week during the semester and over forty during breaks, yet I still can’t afford to go to school without taking out student loans. It’s bullshit. On top of all of that, I still have my regular bills to pay too!

“And as if financial stress isn’t enough, my family and friends have all decided that this week was the week to start up as much drama as possible…” you trailed off and a new round of tears began.

Bucky’s heart broke as he watched your body shake with each new sob. He desperately wished it was his hands wiping away your tears instead of your own.

The tears ended a little quicker this time, but the sadness didn’t quite leave your face as you started to speak, “My family is fighting over something stupid and using me as the go-between because I wasn’t there when the argument started. But at the same time, they’re bitching at me for ‘never being there’ when it’s their own fault for not inviting me!

“My friends are also upset that I don’t have the time to see them as often anymore and are bitching about that. One of them is freaking out in particular because she thinks she’s about to be dumped, while another is complaining about how much she doesn’t like being married because now her mother-in-law expects grandbabies. I’m fucking tired of everything and everyone.”

Bucky waited to see if you were going to continue before he spoke. “Doll, I am so sorry. That’s a lot to handle all at once. What can I do to help?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s much you can do, Bucky. I just let things build up too much and they all exploded at once.” You paused for a moment and let out a bitter chuckle, “This whole adulting thing is a load of garbage. What a fucking scam. I can’t believe I ever wanted to grow up.”

Bucky couldn’t hold back his laughter. Before he could say anything though, you spoke up again

“You know what? Fuck it. I’m done being an adult. I’m going to go do something childish and ignore all my adult responsibilities.”

Bucky snorted. “Oh yeah? What childish thing are you going to do?”

You pondered for a moment, eyebrows furrowed together as you considered your options. Bucky could see the lightbulb go off in your head before a smug smile crept up onto your face. “I’m going to build a blanket fort. Nobody expects adult things from someone who’s hanging out in a blanket fort”

If you hadn’t looked and sounded so serious, Bucky would’ve laughed again. Instead, he just nodded and smiled.

You weren’t amused by his lack of enthusiasm. “Oh c’mon, are you really telling me that a blanket fort isn’t the obvious solution to my problems?”

Bucky went to reply, but you cut him off with a gasp as a look of pure joy swept across your face. The joy soon transitioned into a look that screamed pure chaos. Bucky suddenly felt nervous.

“I’m going to go to the store and get juice boxes before I start. The blanket fort was a brilliant first step in my ‘Fuck The Scam That Is Adulthood’ plan, but the juice boxes -” you mimed a chef kiss “- are the icing on the cake.”

“Juice boxes, huh? That one’s a little surprising,” he teased. “Do you want me to make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to go along with that? Or maybe you’d like some fruit snacks?”

You smiled devilishly back at him, “Well, it needs to be an alcoholic juice box though. That’s the one part of adulting I do like, so it gets to be the exception.”

This time Bucky didn’t even bother trying to hold back his laughter. “I’m not sure anything describes you better than an alcoholic juice box.”

“Agreed. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go buy myself some juice boxes, make the blanket fort of my dreams, and then hide in it whilst pretending the world doesn’t exist. Come over as soon as you’re home and ready. Bring some food with you!”

The call ended abruptly and Bucky stared at the screen in disbelief for a moment before he chuckled. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, wondering how he ended up with someone as beautiful and crazy as you. He was still worried of course. Everything you had mentioned that was contributing to your stress was a lot. He fell asleep trying to plan out how to help you and what he could do to help keep things from being bottled up for this long again.

Three hours and a hot shower later, Bucky found himself walking up the steps to your apartment with food from your favorite Chinese restaurant in hand. He unlocked the door and made his way in, kicking off his shoes by the door.

“Doll, it’s me. Where are you?”

He heard you giggle slightly before calling out to him, “I’m in my room.”

He made his way back towards your room and his feet froze before he was fully in the door. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. You had built the most massive blanket fort he had ever seen. Fort was no longer the appropriate word to use; it was a blanket castle. He knew you were chaotic, but this...this was an entirely new level of chaotic, even for you.

Chairs from the living room and kitchen had been brought in as support beams, packing tape was being used to hold up one side of a sheet against the wall, and couch cushions were arranged to create a small tunnel as an entrance to the fort. The empty bed frame suggested you had even moved your mattress onto the floor for the sake of this damn fort. Once the initial shock wore off, he crouched down and carefully crawled inside.

Every pillow and cushion in your apartment was inside the fort with you, along with the few blankets that somehow hadn’t been used in the fort itself. You were curled up under your comforter with a bottle of wine in hand.

“I have to say when you said you were building a blanket fort I certainly did not expect something this big.” He leaned forward and gave you a quick kiss to the forehead as you giggled at his surprise.

““That’s what you get for underestimating my fort-making abilities,” You took a long sip of wine straight from the bottle before handing it to Bucky.

“I commend you on your taste in juice boxes, though I’d hardly call this a box.” he teased. He held up the bottle and looked at it closer before adding, “You also seem to have drunk most of it already. Guess I should have brought my own.” He estimated there was barely enough wine left to fill half of a glass. You sat there and shrugged.

“I’ll have you know I did consider getting a boxed wine to be more authentic. I decided against it though because that one’s harder to casually drink from. But bottle, schmottle - it’s a minor detail at this point. As to your astute observation about that one being almost empty, there are two more in the fridge. You can go open one up if you’re wanting some,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “The far more important concern right now is if you remembered to get extra egg rolls. You know how much drunk me loves egg rolls.”

Bucky rolled his eyes before dutifully reaching into the bag of takeout that had been haphazardly pushed to the side and pulling out three orders of egg rolls. A happy squeal and a quick peck on the cheek was all he needed to think that maybe your approach to adulthood wasn’t half bad.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #a mutual weirdness

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

OC-tober Day 2: Glass

OC-tober prompts put together by @oc-growth-and-development​! I have to ramble in meta instead of write, because my brain is Mush lately. (I know I’m behind but I have a lot pre-written, I just need to put it into coherent words!)

This one especially can be rambled about at length, because the most important “glass” object in my stories is one I greatly enjoy exploring: Dove’s mindscape mirror!

^ I drew it forever ago; here’s the deviantArt link if you’d like to see the big version! 

https://www.deviantart.com/ravenshiddensoul/art/Dove-s-Keepsakes-Mirror-and-Box-284227087

It’s largely modeled after a bird stretching its wings upwards, with a handle like a tail and certain details are inlaid with Azarathean gold to better channel its magics.

Now, this is where the rambling begins: The mirror’s backstory, and I’ll be exploring one of my favorite things to develop in all of my stories: Dove’s mindscape!

Dove's mirror isn't one of her most prized possessions, nor super incredibly sentimental, but it IS an object touched with her mother's magic, it has flourishes of Azarathean gold (some of the last pieces to exist), and it's useful for introspection and self-soothing, so it does have some value and importance.

Dove struggled with meditating quite a lot as a child, and there was only so much her mother could do to help. Meditation was pretty important to them as both a means of helping Dove control her powers, and as a staple of Azarathean spirituality. As she so often did, Alerina poked around and asked enough questions around the temple that she was told about Raven's mirror, and she decided to replicate it for Dove. She custom ordered a gold-lined wooden hand mirror, and then cast the spells to connect it to Dove's inner world herself. It took a few tries (it's much harder to connect something to someone else's mind than your own, after all), but she was nothing if not determined to help her daughter, and eventually figured it out.

As for its main purpose: Self-reflection! (If you'll pardon the pun.) Dove uses it to meditate, but where Raven uses hers for centering and compartmentalization, Dove uses it more as a blend of escapism and a focusing aid.

Much like Raven's, Dove's mirror acts as a portal to the depths of her mind, and this is where it gets fun!

The vortex that transports the users is usually white and gold, imbued with the same energies that give Dove her powers, at least on her mother's side. It's noticeably touched with black and red in DDD. (Dove's evil side starts taking over her mind, and thus its energies manifest through the mindscape, and Dove's portal into it, hence: black and red energies instead.) It tends to open up like a light tunnel and almost opens the mental world around the user, rather than dragging them in.

Once inside, one can't expect to navigate the same way as Beast Boy and Cyborg did in "Nevermore". Every mind is different, after all! We saw Raven's mindscape divided nearly into emotional sections with a neutral space between them, and the way through each area was preset and linear. While different parts of Dove's internal world manifest in different "areas", they're not so totally divided and separate, and there's no real "neutral" zone except at the very "center". The scenery changes, but it's more of a gradual transition, and though Dove employs thresholds to mark key areas, they're very much just visual aids.

Dove's mindscape is laid out more like a series of rooms and courtyards in a very (very, very, very) large mansion. The ground is generally of crystal, spires and columns decorate the scenery, and the thresholds are modeled after birds with their wings outspread. (While this seems like a play on Dove's namesake, it's actually based on Azarath's architecture, particularly that of George Perez's Azarath in the 1980's New Teen Titans comics.)

Dove's sky shows various stars and often casts moonlight from an uncertain source, particularly when she's introspecting. The ambient temperature varies amongst the locations, chilly in the regions ruled by fear and sadness, uncomfortably warm near her demon's domain, and comfortable and breezy where her peace and contentment reside.

One could easily get lost in her mindscape if they don't know where they're going. The place can shift and change on a whim.

Where Dove spends her time building that peace and contentment, it's very closely modeled after her mother's memories of Azarath (which is where she learned how to find peace, after all): there's marble and gold everywhere, and the stars twinkle with dozens of colors in the sky.

Where Dove retreats when there are feelings of timidity, her excruciating shyness, her grief and doubt, the world becomes shrouded in thick fog. Broken buildings and pale light litter the grounds.

Where she built her love for reading, for history, for creativity and study and learning, it's arranged as rooms with dark marbled tile and a carpeted path, the floor for dozens of feet on either side littered with piles of books.

Dove's inner happy place is an open field on gently rolling hills, where thoughts take the form of birds and somehow the sky holds both the stars and suns. One might find trees, flowers, abstract forms of cottages, and forts loaded with mugs and cozy cushions. If you wander far enough you'll find very tall stone walls surrounding it, because Dove's mind is such that her happiness is one of the few things she really truly believes she needs to protect from the rest of herself.

And then there are the aspects of herself that she shoves the deepest down, secreted far away from the surface: the anger, the hunger for power, the mean streak. (Yes, believe it or not, Dove does have a mean streak! You just have to work especially hard to bring it out. Or trigger her in just the right ways around sadism, violence, war, or death. It's very much Not Recommended; bringing too much of that mean streak out could mean Dove loses control of her powers, or worse: her demonic aspects.)

Those secret forces aren't so much located in one particular space of her mind as they're hidden in every dark corner, coursing through the underside of all the ground, a tantalizing power running through every part of her, only ever set free enough to use the dangerous powers to her own ends.

Her places for Fear and Curiosity in particular will be explored in the upcoming Missing: Raven rewrite. (As they're the strongest things Dove is feeling in that story, that's going to be what Beast Boy and Cyborg encounter.) I also explored the way these things manifest in DDD, and in that same story Dove will focus on rebuilding Peace in the final chapter.

I can't talk about Dove's mindscape without mentioning the "emoticlones". These fun little guys are called by the fanon term given to Raven's "emotion clones", the separate parts of her that express a specific set of traits based on particular aspects of her personality. I had so much fun playing with their voices and thoughts in Dove's head during DDD, you have no freaking idea! I also copied the concept of them having Colored Cloaks from Teen Titans canon, because honestly it's a quick and easy way to identify them, and the fandom's familiar with this system through Raven.

Which colors mean what was more inspired by details from a really old, now-defunct website called Cartoon Orbit that had separate "online trading cards" for each of Raven's emoticlones! On that site, Raven's were labeled as such, and this is what I based Dove's system on, loosely: - Pink: "Raven Happy" - Red: "Raven Rage" - Orange: "Raven Rude" - Yellow: "Raven Smart" - Green: "Raven Brave" - Brown: "Raven Fear" (I'm pretty sure there was a purple one, but I don't recall what it was called. "Love" maybe? That might be from fanon; this site was running like 15 years ago, and I was like 10 years old, so I hardly thought to pay Super Special Attention to it...)

But I digress. The point is, I adapted that system for the key aspects of Dove's unique personality, and came to understand them as follows:

- Pink: Joy, relief, coziness - Red: Cruelty, impulsivity, anger - Orange: Apathy, indifference, disregard - Yellow: Curiosity, study, intrigue - Green: Courage, determination, activity - Blue: Contentedness, pacifism, spirituality - Purple: Compassion, friendship, romanticism - Gray: Sadness, grief, longing. - Brown: Fear, fear, fear!

But for Dove's mind in particular, it's not only HER experiences and personality that form the world! She's a telepath, and though she holds others' privacy in very, very high regard and tries never to read someone's mind without their permission, her sense of receptive telepathy is ever-present. Echoes, lights, shadows, reflections of others' memories and thoughts might affect the very edges of her mind. It's a constant sense, but it only ever causes very ephemeral changes unless something deeply affects her.

Her mindscape also grows and changes as Dove grows and changes, experiences life, learns to cope, and changes how she handles her own emotions.

Most notably, the internal struggle in DDD tore her mind apart. Initially it was due to a breakdown of certainty and confidence, hastened by guilt and grief, but it soon became a deliberate tactic to wage war on the parts of Dove's mind that were trying to resist the evil; eventually her inner demon began intentionally breaking/corrupting everything it could touch.

By chapter 20, that evil is the only strong and stable thing in Dove's mind. Raven's attack to remove the evil in her took away that stability, and strength, and thus took away what was essentially the last support holding Dove's mind together. As it says in the story: "everything collapsed". Dove's mindscape was utterly destroyed, and only the most basic aspects of her remained.

For awhile, that left Dove unable to remember things clearly, or feel emotions without great pain. Rebuilding it to the point where she was able to talk and feel Mostly Normally again took months of meditation.

When Dove is kidnapped and Leyla has distressing dreams about her mother, she, Srentha, and Raven use the mirror to check on Dove by accessing her mindscape. With her powers stripped away, surrounded by people who mock her, and certain Fauni rituals sickening Dove to her soul, naturally her mind is very different: shadowy forms flitted at the edges of vision, the ground wavered, her discomfort was thick in the air and the constant fear made everything so, so cold. "Shadows" of others' thoughts flashed in and out of existence, and Dove's desperation manifests as fleeting voices on the wind. It's uncomfortable to be in her mind while she's so distressed.

It's also worth mentioning that her mindscape changes again, essentially "growing" the part of her that belongs to Love when she finally lets herself love Srentha, and it expands again when Leyla's born and Dove once more finds depths of love she didn't know she could carry.

#oc tober #oc tober 2021 #rhs has ocs and this is the tag about them #iala yona #ddd #rhs oc tober

[suite43]

"Prowl!" A chorus of excited voices shouted his name out discordantly as the communicator patched them through, and Prowl couldn't help the slight smile that escaped him as the hilariously oversized monitor lit up with the image of five constructicons sprawled out across, next to, and on top of a sofa, not a single one of them sitting on it properly.

"Hi," he said simply. It didn't matter what he said next, it wouldn't do the stupidly sappy feelings blossoming inside of him any justice.

"Lookin' good, bossman!" Mixmaster said with a wink. Prowl tried not to let himself get flustered, he knew he didn't look any different than he had last time, just a week earlier. Still, they said it every time, and no matter how Prowl tried to reason it away, he always ended up a little flushed.

"How was your day, Prowl?" Hook asked.

"Okay," he said. "Better, now." Prowl was not good at expressing himself honestly. While that was often a skill he valued, in this department it left him frustrated. Everything his gestalt did dripped with love, and joy, and genuinity. Prowl could never come close.

"Awwwwww, you missed us?" Scavenger teased.

"Only a little," Prowl responded, as playfully as he could manage. "How're things back on Cybertron?"

"Oh, boy, Prowler, you won't believe what happened the other day," one of the Constructicons launched into the story, the others throwing in details and interrupting at their whims, and Prowl leaned back in his chair, content to let the wave of noise and messy conversation bring him back to the feeling of home.

---

They kept on going for a few hours, before letting up and asking Prowl just the right questions to get him launched into a monologue, and only by the fifth time they'd said goodnight did they actually get around to hanging up the call.

"Love you, Prowl! Stay safe! Say hi to everyone for us!" was the last scrap of sound that Hook had managed to get in before the communicator's monitor clicked off with a wink.

He stood up and stretched, letting himself indulge in the burst of giddy affection that welled up in him, doorwings flittering with a smug excitement as he left the private, long-distance communicator room and made his way back to his hab.

He'd planned on just heading to his own private room and getting some work done before heading to recharge, but the open door and sound of idle conversation in the shared bedroom made him pause, consider for a moment, and change course. He wasn't quite ready to let go of the lazy, contended feeling in his chest.

"Oh, hey Prowl!" Cerebros said, waving at Prowl and patting the empty space on the bed next to him. Prowl took up the offer, letting out an easy sigh when Cerebros immediately sprawled out in his lap, picking up one of Prowl's hands and playing with his fingers idly. "Didn't realize you guys had finished."

"Yeah, we'd've brought you some food if we knew," Fort Max said, pressing a quick kiss to Prowl's chevron as he took up a spot behind him, letting Prowl lean back onto his chest. "We already ate."

"Oh, we just got off," Prowl said. "It's not a big deal."

"I can go get you something, if you want," Red Alert offered, halfway through his nightly routine of pacing through the bedroom, checking and double-checking every lock, alarm, clock, and camera.

"No, it's fine, I ate before."

"So how are they, anyways?" Max asked.

"Fine, fine, same as always. Staying out of trouble, more or less, though I think I'll still have a few messes to clean up whenever I go back," Prowl sighed, fondness outweighing any exasperation that he felt. "Still very... sweet. Hook said hello. I've been thinking about bringing them out here sometime. Could be interesting."

"Ooh, that'd be fun! But, y'know, I still can't really wrap my head around the whole 'you-being-devastator' thing," Cerebros said.

"No combiner puns," Prowl chided.

"Would you believe me if I said it was a mnemosurgery pun?"

"Nope."

"You're so cruel, Prowley," Cerebros sighed dramatically, pulling a coin out of subspace and handing it off to Prowl.

"Y'know, I think Outrigger said he was gonna call sometime tommorow," Red Alert said as he crawled into bed, satisfied with their security setup.

"Good, we're overdue for a date anyways," Max said, rearranging Prowl until they were both laying down on their sides, Prowl curled against Max's torso as the bigger mech gently massaged at the hinges of his wings. Cerebros squeezed himself up between Prowl and Red, pulling one of each of their arms around him, nuzzling a masked kiss to Prowl's cheek. Prowl felt that calm, warm feeling building back up inside him. This was home, too.

"Love you guys," Cerebros said, and the others each mumbled out a response, and Prowl was suddenly caught up in wondering just how the hell he of all people had gotten so lucky. Once upon a time he'd been considered the least tolerable Autobot there ever was, and now he was completely surrounded by people who not only tolerated him, but genuinely, sincerely loved him. He'd found himself somewhere he could be at home, twice, at the same time.

He didn't really deserve that. He knew that. He would think about the people who had loved him before, and all of the things he had done, and it would all add up to what it always had. Irredeemable. Unretractable sacrifices. Giving up his personhood, his dignity, and his own hapiness for the sake of the greater good. And yet, here he was. Funny how that worked.

#red.doc #prowl #the constructicons #lunashipping #prowl boyfriend indulgence to make up for the sad one. let my man be loved! kisses him

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

HI 💕💕💕 can I request fluff with oikawa and #11 🥺🥺 i’ve been in my feels lately LOL written please :) if you want to change anything it’s fine✨

Physical fatigue consumed every inch of the setter’s body, with tension stretching along his shoulders, developing numerous knots between his muscles. While walking along the hallway to his apartment, he sunk his bandaged fingers into the flesh, applying pressure to ease the ache, but his limbs were of little use. The final set of the evening left his fingers in dire need of rest, and since he departed from practice they throbbed incessantly under the tape. What he truly required was a weekend of rest, preferably one where he spent at least one day in bed, cuddled into his loving partner’s embrace. Unfortunately, the cure to his problems would not be available until Sunday, as you were invited to a sleepover hosted by your college friends. He doubted you would be home now, and the thought only increased the setter’s dismay.

Maybe he could ask that you return home one day early? That wasn’t too unreasonable, was it?

A chorus of heavy sighs parted Oikawa’s lips as he entered the apartment. A bitter expression painted his features, directing his bottom lip to curl out slightly. Except, his bitterness was short-lived, instantly evaporating when he caught sight of an adorable little person, sulking on the couch. There you were, dressed in a brand-new pair of pajamas, with a matching sleeping mask attached to your head. The amount of accessories decorating you from head to toe was so damn excessive; it was hard for him to maintain a frown. When you finally noticed your boyfriend, a loud whine vibrated inside your throat as you wigged your fingers at him, gesturing for him to enter your embrace.

“What happened? Did they cancel?” After lowering his gym bag onto the floor, and removing his shoes, he padded across the room to where you were sat. Upon reaching the couch, he placed a hand against the back cushion just above your shoulder, before dipping down to plant a single kiss against your forehead. “I would join you, but I’m covered in blood and sweat right now. I don’t think you want me to stain your brand-new pjs, do you?” The teasing edge to his low voice did not eliminate the alarm rising inside your core – did he just say blood?

Instantly, your mind abandoned the self-pity party it was partaking in, as your y/e/c irises scanned him for any visible injures. “What are you talking about? Did you get hurt?” Your palms framed his face after you failed to locate the source of his pain. You delicately guided his face from one side to the other, permitting you an additional opportunity to analyze his visage for any sign of blood. But once again you found nothing.

“It’s an expression, y/n. I’m not bleeding. Though, I did hurt my fingers.” His caramel irises flickered to the couch, where his bandaged fingers were sinking into the back cushion. It was strange but your presence alone helped lift some of the stress that plagued him. Who knew that his pain was no match for the presence of significant other?

“What? Oh my god, Tooru!” A horrified expression crossed your visage at the sight of his worn out limbs. “You know what, you’re ban from volleyball now. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.” A little huff was exhaled through your nostrils to demonstrate the seriousness of the matter, but the noise only earned you another laugh from the setter.

“You’re always so dramatic, my sweet angel. How about this instead, I won’t play volleyball for the next two days, and instead you and I will have our own slumber party, hm?” Curving his eyebrows, he awaited your response with a wide beam displayed. Spending the weekend cuddled under a pillow fort was actually very enticing – hell, he would do anything as long as it was with you.

“Hmmmm.” Squishing his face with your palms, you tried to appear deep in thought, knitting your brows together. “Okay. Deal. Go shower, pretty boy. We have a long two nights ahead of us!”

While your boyfriend showered and selected his outfit for the impromptu sleepover, it was your task to begin building the largest pillow fort known to mankind. After watching a few Youtube videos on how to construct a proper support for the fort, you elected to include the rod from your mop and broom as the frame. A thin mattress cover was draped over the rods, connecting them to the loveseat couch in the living room. All that remained now was to add the pillows inside and to decorate the outside with some fairy lights. You were about to exit the fort to gather the pillows from your bedroom when you heard your boyfriend comically question your absence.

“I wonder where my pretty little angel is?”

Poking your head out from under the sheet, your plan to return his comment with sarcasm was withdrawn when your eyes landed upon him. His skin was glistening under the dimmed lighting, and while his mocha mane lacked its usual puff, you were overcome with the urge to play with the wet strands. He just appeared so soft, dressed in a plain t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.  

“What? Did you think I’d look worse after a shower, angel face? I take offense to that, you know.” A hand was placed against his hip as he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“No. You just… never wear pjs. You look so…” Why the hell were you stuttering? Growing exasperated with your own inadequacies, you sighed out the remainder of the compliment “cute. Why the hell are you so cute?”

“I don’t know. Should I ask my mother?” Humour released in the form of a melody, demonstrating the playfulness of his retort. Your heart was seized by adoration when the soundwaves hit your eardrums.

“You are so annoying, Tooru. Stop teasing me and go bring me some pillows!” With one hand clawing at your forehead, a series of grunts were growled out.

“I’ll do that in a minute.” Instead of retreating to the bedroom, and complying with your demands, he advanced closer, kneeling down to where you were sat. “You know, talking about my mother… I think we should take a trip back home soon. Don’t you think it’s time you met her?” While his voice was projected confidentially, Oikawa was a tad bit nervous. Two years into dating – wasn’t it time that you two met?

The suggestion was enough to force you out of the comfort of the fort and into your boyfriend’s arms. Once you tackled him onto the ground, he mumbled a little “ow” but a smile remained glued to his features. “You’re very sus right now, Tooru. Why are you saying this now!?”

Oikawa did not mind being walled in by your arms on either side, even if you were interrogating him. Particularly because now he was provided a perfect view of your face. “Well, I can’t propose to someone she hasn’t met before, now can I?”

Your arms almost caved in upon hearing his explanation – were you hearing this right?

“Excuse me!?” Underlying your words was a demand for some clarification. He seemed to have understood that, as he provided you one seconds later.

“You heard me. No one’s ever stuck with me for so long before, y/n. Well, except for Iwa-chan!” His eyelids fluttered shut for a second, while his mouth twitched into a large smile. How could he not want to marry you?

Inside of your chest, your heart squealed in joy, and the additional amount of blood rushing through your veins left your mind in a daze. “Lucky me then. I’m glad none of your ex’s stayed, because if they did, I would have never met you.” Soon, tears formed at your waterline as the weight of his words slowly sunk in. “I love you, pretty boy.”

Your reaction was everything he could have wanted and more. Reaching up, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, swiping away the liquid sticking to your skin.

“I love you, y/n.”

A/N: I 100% do not know how to write small things WELP. BUT I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS. I hope you enjoyed it! <3 Thank you for participating! 

#oikawa scenarios #oikawa imagine #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #oikawa fluff #haikyuu imagines #storytime with jan ❤️

[ji-yaaan]

@kendal0ksw Asks: Anyway... I would like to request a sweet honey milk tea of Deuce, Azul, and Malleus (being called Tsunotaro) with a male Yuu kissing their hand. And when asked why he responds that 1. they looked like they needed a little distraction from whatever was troubling them and 2. to show how much they care about them. Hope this is alright...

𝑨 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚

Headcannons with: Malleus, Deuce, & Azul

Note: Someone pls shoot me I don't know how to write 3 repetitive scenarios w/o making it boring asf. So with request that has similar patterns per character, I figured Headcannons would work? I hope it's ok. I tried making imagines but it looked boring... OH! But I added my short Azul scenario as compensation. Blergh enough chitchat I'm thirstea.

[ 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚊 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍... ]

-ˋˏ•𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂•ˎˊ-

After a long day of being avoided being the infamous “Malleus Draconia” this fae gets tired from the attention he draws and the lack of attention he gets.

Dealing with Dorm duties, People constantly fearing him for nothing, people approaching him to pry information *cough Rook cough* and to not even get an invite in dorm leader meetings? This just gives him a bit of a headache.

He will probably flee to his room when things get a little bit out of hand and he needs some of that good relaxation time.

Resting his head on the bed. Eyes slowly close. The atmosphere relaxing as breaths slow down. "Welcome back Tsunotaro!" You cheerfully exclaimed.

What? Nani? What in the world? Was he that distracted to not notice you in the room this whole time? Expect yourself a O.O face from you local fae.

"Hmm? I didnt notice you were there Y/n..." Even if your lovely Malleus is shocked, He will still gently smile at you. Eyes narrowing, an endearing smile appears in his face everytime he looks at you.

Slowly, your hands would make it's way to creep in his hands. Bingo! Hand holding complete!

Ok! Time for mission number 2! After a tight clasp on Malleus' fingers, you brought your face close to the hands you held dear, and gave the fae a small kiss at the back of his hands.

As if the shock earlier wasn't enough, The fae's eyes widens in surprise yet again. Malleus definitely doesn't get your behavior at times..... But it's not like he hates it... In fact, He loves it...( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

A warm giddy smile paint your face. How infectious... A smile that can melt all your troubles away within a hitch of a second. Malleus can't help but smile ear to ear with the endearing gestures he received.

"But why would you even kiss my hand?" The fae questions in laughter. "Well, you looked pretty troubled today and I dont really know how to help... So I thought that a small kiss will do the trick!"

"You know how much I care about you right?" The answer Malleus got was something priceless. His heart felt warm and fuzzy hearing that someone cares for him. There really was never a dull moment with you.

Expect a little tint of flushed pink in the fae's cheeks for a brief moment. But gotta look close! Malleus won't show it, but he's blushy wushy and melting all over!

Tsunotaro is not much of the type to get the receiving end but he's still very thankful you did this for him uwu.

Expect malleus to give you a kiss on your hand in return too! He can't help but want to share the feeling he got when you kissed his! ^~^

-ˋˏ•𝑫𝒆𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒆•ˎˊ-

Finishing the last lesson of Alchemy class, Spade boi is exhausted. Using too much braincells is not his forte, but he still needs to grind to get to the honor roll!

He will probably stay in the classroom for a bit and study some of the history materials and alchemy reviewers for the test tommorow... Oops, our cutie fell asleep while writing down his notes.

You walk your way to the classroom because you forgot something. But surprise surprise, it seems like the something you forgot is actually a person, not a belonging...ಠωಠ

You peeked at deuce sleeping soundly with his head resting on the desk. You laughed at how cute he looked sleeping with his mouth open.

He didn't even spare time to take off his lab coat. He must be exhausted huh?Worried by deuce, staying for a bit won't be a crime right?

While reading, somehow, your eyes wanders off to his hands that fell off the desk while he grunted "five more minutes." Wow, sleeping deuce is probably one of the best deuce out there huh? You laughed to yourself.

Maybe it was because of boredom, maybe even from worry, or maybe its just because you simply wanted to do it. But you started to intertwine your fingers with deuce... WoaH...

Smiling at how comfortable it was to hold his hands. You prop your face to kiss his fingers. Chu~♡

"Uhhhmmm....." Oh... You got caught redhanded... Deuce wakes up to find you holding his hands... furthermore, YOU WERE KISSING IT! How embarrassing...(O////O)

Looking up at Deuce, You see a red tomato flushed boy. His cheeks up to his ears are painted pink from embarassment.

"Ahaha... Good morning... Oh wait... Good afternoon." Deuce will look away from you bashfully... How embarrassing for him... But face it, this is such a treat for you.

"You know... You've been awfully dazed and troubled these days... Please take take a break too... It's bad if you keep sleeping in random places! I care about you a lot and I don't want to see you stressed ok?"

Deuce was left astounded with the heartwarming speech you gave him... He felt butterflies flew in his stomach, like flowers bloomed inside his heart. Truly touching words...

Spade boi will smile gently at you, pink cheeks like powder blush, and eyes that sparkled Joy.

Expect this boi to grab your hands and put them in his pockets, saying "If taking a break is ok... Then this is ok right? Let's stay like this for a little bit longer... Ok?"

He'll look away in the other direction, propping his other hand and resting his head on it. If you look closely... A delicious red blush can be seen in his neck and ears too!

“Even if Riddle were to scold us, i think it will be worth it”♡♡♡♡♡♡

-ˋˏ•𝑨𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐•ˎˊ-

After a tiresome day as Mostro Lounge, the lounge closing a little later than the usual, A certain octopus is really tired and frustrated because the work got pushed back in their schedule.

As he skims through the numerous pages of parchment, octo boi let out a sigh from frustration. He has to deal with a lot of things this night....

But what he didn't expect was that you were there to brighten his night!

Have a short scenario cuz I love u ♡

Boisterous laughter. Joyful screams. Drinks spilt in the floors and tables. The lounge was getting rowdier with each passing second. Fights fuming in the other tables. Song being sung across the bars.

What's up with this chaos? Where was Jade and Floyd?.... Oh right... Azul nagged on floyd earlier this morning. He's now in his infamous bad moods leaving Jade the only responsible person azul can rely on. But Jade got his hands preoccupied with stopping fights at the moment... Dammit... This is going to be one hell of an evening.

After dealing with the chaos of Mostro Lounge's happy hour, strain and fatigue was evident just by a peek at Azul's Face.

"Haaahhhh... Dealing with those morons was a waste of time, I've still got a long night reviewing the deals and homeworks... Hah. Wonderful..." The sound of pen scratching the wood rang across the room as Azul hummed a melody trying to relieve stress...

"A.z.u.l. kun! Hello!" You happily hummed as azul got caught off guard shocked. "Hm! Oh! Y/n? When did you get here? Pardon me, The lounge was quite rowdy earlier and we had to close a little later than the usual... Oh wait a second lem me just take care of this..." Fingers swept through the crisp pages of numerous books. His pen lightly tapping a beat in the wooden desk.

Moments pass as seconds became minutes. The pen scratching noises enveloped the room drowning in silence. Azul was lost in thought as he burn through the hundreds of words written in the thin pieces of parchment.

You pout at the thought of azul ignoring you, but it's not like you can disturb his work either. So in the end, you just watch him skim through hundreds of pages and thousands of words. Eyebrows furrowed, he fixes his eyeglasses again...

Lost in thought, your eyes wanders off to his ungloved hand... The back of his hand looked smooth and it looked soft. Caught in the moment of daze, you didn't even realize your hands crept stealthily working its way to lock fingers with Azul. This caused azul to look at you in disbelief and shock as a tinge of pink paints his pale face.

What? Octoboi is confused. What? Why were you holding his hands? What? You're not letting go of his hands! futhermore, your fingers are INTERTWINED! Azul.exe has stopped working. Azul wasn't made for cute moments like this.

"Y/n... May I ask why you suddenly linked fingers with me?" Azul asked with his fingers tinged pink, face was painted red down to his neck. "Well... You looked really troubled while you were doing your work... So I thought that you can use a short break? You looked pretty stressed so...."

Ahhhh.... Azul really should've read that one romance book he once stumbled upon, how does he deal with this? Damn, he surely wasn't made for this... He stared up your eyes only to look away again bashfully.

Pfttt you gotta admit... Azul really looks cute like this. You slowy brought your lips to azul's hands. Chu~♡ a kiss on the hands! bingo! "There! Have a kiss as a token of my love for you and how much I care for you! Hehe!"

That's it, Azul needs maintenace after this... This is just too cute for his soul. Cheeks tinged red, he fixes his glasses up again. His hands lightly squeeze yours as he began to say "Well, I cannot abandon my work and responsibilities... But maybe it's not a crime if its just for a few minutes... Don't let go of my hand ok?" The night at Mostro Lounge was quite chilly than the usual. But the hours that passed by felt warmer with the hold of a certain octopus.

End.

Note: Running low on braincells, Hope you liked this. And yes, I'm currently in my real time Azul loving hours. Time to buy takoyaki~ jk no I'm doing more requests that is rotting in my inbox. Again, sorry if this was not your cup o' tea (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #disney #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #twst azul #twst deuce #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #fanfiction

[kaeyas-beloved]

Hey there! Can i request a chubby/thicker mc? But instead of insecure, she’s confident af? People think she’s a bitch at first, but they’re proved wrong when she’s actually really good at giving life advice? If i were to be more specific, then she likes coloring her nails, stuff like that and is a bit of a bitch at first but can be your best friend at the same time? Thanks!(i checked your rules, and you didn’t have any specific numbers, so hcs, anyone but pls choose Arthot) thanks!

Can i add more text? If i can, then the chubby but confident mc is also really proud of her lover? Thank you again!

Hello! You absolutely can (both request and add more text)! Sorry this took so long, headcannons aren’t really my forte, but I still hope you like them! Also, I added Isaac and Mozart since I had some ideas for them :) 

Thank you for requesting!

(It’s under the cut since these are sorta long)

Arthur, Isaac & Mozart w/ a Chubby!Confident!Reader/MC

~

Arthur Conan Doyle

Now don’t get me wrong, Arthur loves all women no matter what they look like or their personality (unless they’re evil like that one Sister from his route - you know the one)

But when a women has the confidence level of a queen?? You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. 

There’s just something about women who aren’t like all the others he’s been with that really gets him.  

Even if you insulted everything that you could about him the first time you both met.

It was the boldness in your words and the way you carried yourself without a care what others said that has him infatuated and wanting to know more.

The first couple interactions with the other residents had him falling on his ass laughing.

Never has he seen someone make Theo and Wolfie shut up so fast.

After that he knows exactly when some kind of verbal brawl between her and another resident, most likely Theo, will occur and he kicks back for the show. 

Kind of gets hurt when she says something particularly harsh but brushes it off like he does.

A week passes and Arthur has figured out that she’s a little like Theo in a sense, bitter on the outside but secretly soft on the inside.

How does he know? Well he’s experienced this secret side of her of course!

It was during one of his self-deprecating moods, his past coming to haunt his thoughts when (y/n) walked in with his dinner, seeing as he skipped out on it.

The writer was so deep in thought that he didn’t even hear her come in until the glass of Rouge was set down beside him, shocking him. 

A flirty line was on the tip of his tongue when a quiet “Hey” came from her, in the softest voice he’s every heard from her, that one word silencing him.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on in that head of yours but... don’t let it consume you. It won’t be easy but you gotta push past it and not let it eat at you, that’s how it wins...” 

Arthur’s breath hitched when the faintest of smiles appeared on her lips, he was sure that he was seeing an actual angel.

After that it was like clock work and the two were hanging out more and more, going out in town a lot (with Vic too).

Her advice hit him in a way and like she said, it wasn’t easy, but it was a start for him.

From the very start of their relationship as a couple (y/n) would constantly give Arthur praises anytime he moved forward to forgiving and just bettering himself in general.

Rewards usually involve kisses and cuddles

Maybe a little more ;)

Like I mentioned earlier he doesn’t care that you may be a little thicker than the other women in town, it’s more for him to love!

He’s honestly so happy that you love your body despite what others may say, he’s a very proud boyfriend.

But even if you do, that won't stop him from loving every inch of you and your body.

All in all, it’s a relationship that includes a lot of love and proud moments for one another :)

Isaac Newton

Poor Apple Boi is a little scared of you, don’t be mean to him please he’s shy and insecure T_T

Like don’t get him wrong confident women are great but... you might be a little too confident sometimes for his heart to keep up.

“(Y/N) yOU cAn’T sAY tHinGS LiKE tHAT!!” is something he thinks a lot when a particularly mean thing might exit your mouth.

Begs to any God that will listen that there’s some passive side to you that will help lower his blood pressure. 

But if there isn’t that’s alright, he guess, cause most of the time you aren’t actually that bad.

That was before the both of you ran into the children he teaches at the fountain, his heart and mind doing literal summer salts cause what if you make one of them cry? What then!? He can't handle crying children! 

Nevertheless Isaac still asks if you could help educate them and you agree without complaint - surprisingly

About half an hour later when his group of kids were working (you split them into two groups, one for him and another for you) he took a glance your way and - HOLY SHIT IS SHE SMILING!? 

Takes a double take on that, splashes a little of the freezing fountain water in his face and when he still sees you smiling down at the young ones Isaac thinks he's done for.

But then he hears what you’re telling the children

“If you’re willing to put the effort into it and continue to push forward then you can do and be anything you want...”

You hear that? It’s the sound of his poor heart malfunctioning

Isaac may have an extended life but even then he didn’t think he’d live to see the day that a genuine smile, with no snide present, wound grace your face and that such encouraging words would come from you.

You weren’t rocket science to him anymore, he saw that there was more to you and unconsciously he started to soften up around you.

When the two of you got into a relationship it was a lot of you taking the lead, trying to help the shy man out of his cocoon.

And when he did take those steps and started to speck more and say what was on his mind? He got smooches, loads of them.

You are very very proud that he’s growing into the man he wants to be.

One time when you guys were out and about some snob women were making some comments about your weight. Baby was furious and was ready to reassure you that you were beautiful no matter what you looked like, even if he isn’t the best at comforting people.

He shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when all you did was say something equally bad (if not worse) to them, grabbed his hand and left. 

When he asked if you were okay he was very happy to hear that their words didn’t hurt you because their opinion didn’t matter to you. 

He did, however, turn a little red when you said that if anyone’s opinion mattered it was his because you love him and knows that he loves you <3 

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Won’t lie, both of you got into the equivalent of a cat fight the first time you ran into each other.

It was so bad Jean and Napoleon had to step in before either of you said something that might actually hurt the other.

After that night it was like an unspoken rule between the two of you that under no circumstances should your paths cross.

Which was incredibly hard since Sebastian assigned you to bring him his meals.

Not one interaction went without some sort of mean jab being sent to the other. 

One time you got some pink nail polish on Mozart’s white piano and he lost it

It seemed absolutely impossible for there to be any chance that the two could get along

All hope was nearly lost, but then came the day that (y/n) said something to him that just turned this mess of a relationship around.

The pianist was having a hard time composing a certain piece and nothing was coming to him no matter what he did. 

About to give up for the day, in came the human with a bottle of Blanc for him. When her eyes spotted the disaster that was crumpled sheet music, many of the notes scratched out, she knew exactly what was going on.

“Put yourself back to a time that you were happy and full of joy... Or, think about what you feel when you eat something really good - like chocolate, I know you love it. If there were colours to accompany the feeling, what would they be? Would they be slow moving like a river or burst like fireworks? Use those as a pace and let your heart do the rest...” 

Before the haughty musical genius could question a single word she just told him, (y/n) was already out of the room, off to finish the rest of her chores

Nevertheless Mozart tries it out and by the end of the night he’s got a masterpiece written out in front of him.

And you have an IOU with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart written on it - and he hates having to owe people.

So here he is, out in town for the first time in forever, showing you 19th century Paris since he remembered overhearing you say how you wanted to take advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Surprisingly, it went well. Every time you said something that would usually elicit a remark from him was met instead with him holding his tongue, your soft voice from the day before playing in his mind each time.

When you caught on that he was actually trying to be nice you too made the effort, thus resulting in the two of you growing just a little closer.

You also gave him some nail polish remover that you had to help clean his piano cause he was having trouble.

From then on the harsh words became playful more than anything.

Could care less what you look like, though is very happy that you're comfortable in your own skin.

During Mozart's performances (y/n) claps the loudest and he knows it, she's told him that it's because she's very proud that he's started to play his music for others and because he wants to, not because he's force to.

His lips always twitch up when he hears her cheer for him, it fills him with joy every time knowing the meaning behind the action and that it comes with love.

BONUS!

Vincent and her got along instantly when he spotted these beautiful designs that she painted on her nails. He wanted to know how she did it without smudging anything since nails are such a small canvas to work with.

Theo got confused and upset when he saw that she was nice to his brother and not him.

She's totally destroyed Shakespeare cause no one messes with her friends goddammit! 

~ 

Requests are closed right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy my other works while you wait for them to open! You might find something you like, who knows :)

Masterlist

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire arthur #cybird ikemen #ikemen vampire arthur x reader #ikevam arthur #ikevam x reader #ikevam arthur x reader #ikevamp #ikevam fanfic #ikevam mozart #ikevam isaac #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp mozart x reader #ikevam mozart x reader #mozart x reader #ikemen mozart #ikemen vampire mozart #ikemen series #ikemen isaac #ikevamp isaac #ikemen vampire isaac #ikevamp isaac x reader #ikevam isaac x reader

[vinylhazza]

Ok but like do an imagine with y/n being cold and grayson cockwarming her and being cute and stuff

mmmmmm yes i can actually. 

y/n has been shivering for the past hour in the cabin, on the plaid patterned couch under a blanket that’s just not thick enough and she knows with the heater being broken and the other source being the one fireplace in the livingroom - she’s not warming up anytime soon. she knows how much grayson wanted to go on this trip to colorado, but damn she wishes she had brought some more blankets, clothes, anything to keep the frigid air from freezing her solid. 

she doesn’t know what she expected it to be like considering it was mid-january and their one goal with going to colorado in the first place was the skii resort. grayson would not shut up about it. it was all he talked about for months. it was all anyone could talk about. even ethan and his gf were jumping for joy now that they could finally take a trip somewhere that wasn’t warm and tropical. it was nice to change it up from time to time and neither y/n or e/g/n had ever gone skiing. y/n’s parents were big into skiing but had never invited her or her brother to any trips and quite frankly she had been fine with that - but always secretly wanted to go deep down inside. 

bundled up under the blankets, she waits for grayson to return with her hot chocolate: her go to drink when she was too cold. tasty and hot. what more could you want? especially with the marsh mellows that just melt in her mouth, something she’s loved since she was a kid. her stomach growled at the thought. she knew he must be as cold as her, he had stopped his teeth from chattering in her ear a number of times when they opted to snuggle up close on the couch, his hands sliding up under shirt and pressing into her tummy and back like a her own personal space heater. she curled up into his touch with her head on his chest, the beanie on top of her head the perfect cushion for his chin. 

with her hands shaking against the bare skin of his chest under the thick fabric of his black sweater, he offered to step away only for a moment to get her a mug hot chocolate. those moments were brutal. without him there to warm her up, the cold crept in to every crevice it could. with her nose a rosy red, eyes watery from excessive blinking, and her fingertips and toes numb - she almost cried seeing him walk through the livingroom with the hot mug in his hand, a sympathetic look on his face. 

“here you go, baby,” he soothes her with his voice, ushering her hand out from under the blanket to grab the mug and hold it close to her chest - sinking back down on the couch and wrapping the blanket around them both, “i tried to be as fast as possible...also i took a sip,” he laughs.

“thank you,” she chatters out through her chapped lips, suddenly wishing she had enough energy to retrieve her chapstick from the bedroom. but judging how bad she jumped when her feet touched the floor even with socks on - she wasn’t getting up from the couch for a long while. and she sure as hell wasn’t letting grayson go again. 

“i called up to the front desk while i was in there and they said they should be coming to fix the heat in the morning,” grayson sighed, running a hand through his rather messy brown hair while the other smoothed itself back under her shirt to rest against the skin of her stomach. he remembers that when y/n gets cold at home, just putting his hand on her tummy would warm her right up in no time - but unfortunately that wasn’t the case in this frozen wonderland. she needed more that a simple touch. 

“the morning?!” she sits up straighter, turning to look at him with a horrified expression. how were they supposed to sleep when the temperature inside was sinking by the minute? it was almost dangerous, really, “fuck this can’t be happening... what time do we need to get up and having our stuff together to meet ethan and e/g/n anyway?” 

“i think seven? that’s if he wakes up on time and doesn’t have us waiting for an hour like normal,” grayon chuckles at the thought of ethan rolling out of bed with his bedhead and puffy face. he wasn’t the happiest camper when it came to waking up early. e/g/n gave him a nicer wake up call than grayson ever has. harsh pillow fights from grayson were exchanged for kisses along his cheekbones from his girlfriend of three years. he doesn’t wake up grumpy anymore, that’s for sure.

“so we won’t be here when they come?” y/n whines, not looking forward to waking up and immediately stepping out into several feet of snow after freezing all night long- the thought alone makes her body shake harder. 

“most likely no...we have some more blankets sweetie i won’t let you freeze, what can i do?” he cups her face gently, thumb rubbing in it’s place 

he can see the annoyance and fear radiating off of her, she’s never been this cold. ever. and they couldn’t very well crash at ethan’s cabin, it was even smaller than the two bedroom that grayson had booked in advance - they weren’t subjecting themselves to sleeping on the dirty floor and hearing ethan bone his  girlfriend all night long. they had made that mistake one night when they made a last minute fort in the livingroom and woke up to the sound of e/g/n screaming like she was being murdered. it was a night they teased ethan about on many occasions, but he had no shame. he never did when it came to the woman he loved. she had been mortified of course, but with a kiss on the cheek from ethan she relaxed at the jokes and even joined in sometimes...it made y/n think of how hot...sweaty...delicious it would be to have grayson help her out in the same way, use his spell on  her to draw that heat right to her core. 

y/n turns to set her mug down on the side table next to the couch, grabbing onto his shirt with urgency and emotion swirling in her eyes. she’s happy to be here. with him. in a cabin surrounded by the most beautiful trees she’s ever seen, white fluffy snow falling from the sky...but right now she needed him to warm up her up before she can’t take it anymore. call her dramatic, but she knows what she wants ...and what would make her feel better. something they've only done once or twice.  

“gray...i can’t be this cold all night. i just can’t we have to figure out a way to get some more heat because i’m not sure how much of this i can take,” she whispers into his neck, burying her face in to kiss at his skin. it’s what she does when she really wants him to say yes. he’s a sucker for a neck kiss, “please you gotta do something please.” 

and it’s...her voice. something about it sounded so weak, needy, it does something to his lower region. even being as cold as he was, there was always a fire burning for her inside of him. always a match that ignites in his groin with her voice fragile and small. he grows inside of his pants, skin warming up with his quickened heart-rate. 

he tilts his head to the side with a heavy breath, letting her kiss the skin as she pleases, marking him up, licking at him sweetly, combing her hand through his hair to hold him closer. she’s desperate for it, wants him to use his body to make the aching cold escape from her nerves for just a bit. she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

“tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you,” he whispered, head raising to cup her face and kiss her long and hard. he takes his time, leaning back enough to trace her lips with his finger, watching her eyelids flutter at his tender touch. 

“in...in want you in me please,” she whispers back across his lips, her tongue sliding out to slip across his bottom lip, something she knows makes him cave nothing nothing else. 

“go on then,” he smirks, kissing right under her jaw. 

she’s slipping away from his chest quickly, wanting to get herself warmed up right away and not waste anymore time freezing when she could be sinking onto his dick, wrapped around him tight. it wasn’t anything particularly sexual - although she’s sure that will come later in the evening. pushing her fingers in the elastic of his pants, she straddles his lap, making sure to pull her own pants off before she slips him out and rubs his reddened tip over her entrance. 

“ohhhhhhhhh,” she sighs with her hips sinking lower and lower on his member, wiggling herself when he’s all the way inside, sheathed in her warm walls, “fucking hell that’s so good...so warm.” 

“mhmmm, that feel better angel?” he breathed, willing himself not to grab her hips and give it to her hard and fast like he so desperately wanted to. her eyes were closed in satisfaction, her hands on his shoulders, breath fanning over his lips, forehead pressed against his while she feels the warmth shooting up through her stomach and out through her body, nodding back at him. she almost wants to cry at the relief she feels. 

God dammit why didn’t i ask for this earlier?, she thinks to herself, fingers digging into his shoulders.  

“there you go my pretty girl, come in closer,” he sucks in a breath to steady himself, grabbing her hips and pushing her forward flat against his chest, “lay on me.” 

“shit,” she sighs, laying her head against his shoulder in content, “thank you...thank you...”

he doesn’t respond for a while, waiting for himself to soften inside of her for now, smoothing his hand over her hair until he can feel her breathing slow, knowing she’s close to that deep sleep - her escape from the cold. with her body pressed close, his arms curled around her waist, the sky blackened with the absence of the sun, he hums to himself quietly, her favorite song real quiet in her ear.

“anything for you,” he whispers back to her softly, kissing at her temple with a feather light touch. 

at some point he joins her in that land far beyond the present - head falling to rest against hers while the fire burns a deep orange and yellow, giving the pair the peace they need for just a night. curled against each other - a tangle of limbs with enough love to last them through the cold. 

#asks #gray!concepts #grayson!concepts

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 18)

Title: The Stories All End (but this time, it ends well)

Summary: Ranboo's story comes to a close, because after seeing his family, he's realized that not only is he safe, but he his happy.

Chapter One

Masterlist

Ranboo laughed as he chased Tommy across the countryside. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and they were out of the house, on their way to visit Eret’s castle and all of the people that lived near there.

He overtook Tommy because his legs were so long, which caused Tommy to squawk indignantly. “Oh, that’s it, bitch boy,” Tommy trilled, leaping into the air and flapping his wings to gain speed.

“That’s not fair!” Ranboo called ahead, still sprinting, though his side was starting to hurt.

It didn’t take long for Tommy to get tired too, so they both slowed down to walk the rest of the way. Before long, the colorful building came into view and two figures walked towards them.

“Tommy, Ranboo!” Fundy shouted. “You came!”

“Of course we did, big man!” Tommy yelled back, and Ranboo smiled. It was nice here. It felt safe.

Eret was behind Fundy, and he showed them the castle. They didn’t need a tour, since it had been built forever, but they oohed and ahhed at the restoration. There were flags everywhere, the stone was smooth, and it looked so welcoming.

Fundy was hovering around them constantly, making all sorts of little snuffles and barks.

Eventually, Ranboo asked about it.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eret said. “It’s just that visiting you guys yesterday triggered his thin day, so he’s been pretty playful. We played fetch this morning.”

Fundy scowled, but his face lifted. “Puffy and Niki are here, I can hear them coming.”

It was true, the footsteps of the two ladies echoing through the halls a little later. They were smiling too, and Ranboo hadn’t felt this at ease since before Phil and Techno had visited.

Greetings were exchanged, and so began the day of relaxing. It was like a vacation, and Ranboo could tell that it was doing wonders for Tommy.

The morning flew by too fast, and during lunch, Fundy couldn’t sit still. He was anxious and twitchy and everyone tried their best to just let it be, since he couldn’t help it, but Tommy just wanted to eat his sandwich in peace.

“Fundy,” he asked, “do you want to go outside?” No one could tell if he was joking, least of all the fox.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Fundy grumbled. “You’re a jerk.”

Tommy made a face. “I’m not making fun of you. Do you want to go outside? I bet I could toss the ball pretty fucking far with my strong arms.”

No one missed the way that Fundy’s eyes lit up. “You’re sure you’re not messing with me?”

“No,” Tommy smiled, “I just want to spend time with my nephew.”

“I’m still older than you,” Fundy teased, but his eyes were still filled with tears from the genuine love from Tommy.

As it turns out, the strong arms weren’t so strong, but Tommy fixed that by flying up before throwing the ball, which resulted in Fundy running some pretty long distances. Neither seemed to mind, because they stayed outside for a good few hours, leaving the others inside to talk.

“So, what made you guys visit today?” Eret asked, adjusting their crown.

Ranboo winced. “Well, Tommy had a bit of an issue with Phil and got pretty upset, so I figured this would be a good break.”

“What happened?” Niki asked, concerned.

His mind went back to the look of pure fear that had been on Tommy’s face. “From what I can gather, Phil asked to preen his wings as a sort of bonding experience, but instead of feeling nice, the preening hurt? Neither one of them are taking it well. Technoblade told me this morning before we left that Philza had been crying.”

Puffy snorted lightly. “Sounds like he’s realizing how messed up his actions were.”

Niki nodded, but looked doubtful. “Has Technoblade made up for everything yet? Because if it were me, I wouldn’t forgive him. Not in a million years.”

Ranboo paused. “I mean, he did a lot of research for me and figured out why I had more than two thin days. Sam told you about that, right?”

“But has he apologised,” Niki stressed. “I want the best for you, Boo. Has he actually apologized and made things better?”

“I think…” he trailed off, thinking about everything that had happened. All the late night running into each other for snacks, the tense smiles in the library… “I think he’s trying, but he’s figuring out everything on the way, because he’s never had to actually apologise for something before.”

Eret hummed, “Well, if he’s genuinely trying, I guess we can’t ask for much more. What about Phil, though? I can’t excuse his actions just because he cried. We’ve all cried over things we’ve done before, he’s not special.”

“I think he will try,” Ranboo spoke honestly. “He’s lived for so long he’s become desensitised to emotion, but I think that now he’s coming back down to earth, he’ll try to make up for everything.”

Niki sighed. “I guess I can give him another chance if he’s going to actually try to be better, now. We’re not perfect either, but he needs to put in some effort to make up for everything, like we have.”

“He will,” Ranboo promised. “I’ll make sure he will.”

“We trust you,” Puffy smiled, before looking over to where the other two were playing. “Oh, it looks like they’re done. I’ll bet they’re tired- I’ll go make some lemonade.”

Puffy left as Tommy and Fundy came running up, and their joy was contagious.

“You’re done?” Eret asked.

Tommy nodded. “We lost the ball somewhere in the forest, and we couldn’t find it. But we’re also tired. What can we do now?”

“Watch a movie?” Ranboo and Niki suggested at the same time, causing everyone else to laugh.

They ended up watching a movie while sipping Puffy’s lemonade, but Fundy hadn’t even finished his before he was fidgeting again.

He snuffled. “Can I make a burrow? Like a fort, or something?”

Eret smiled softly. “Sure, bud. Let me go grab some blankets, I’ll be right back.”

They came back with a giant pile of cloth, so they paused the movie and let Fundy go wild. It didn’t take long, since he seemed to know exactly what he wanted, so before long everyone was in a fort with Fundy curled up in the middle. It was really just a floor of blankets, with walls built up, but he seemed content.

Ranboo was towards the back, with Tommy sprawled across his lap and wings covering whoever he could. Niki leaned on Ranboo’s shoulder and Puffy was pressed into her side with her feet over Eret’s legs. Fundy somehow was in the middle of it all, making happy noises and radiating warmth.

It didn’t take long for the entire group to fall asleep.

The next morning, Ranboo was the first one up. He hadn’t gotten any nightmares, which was always a plus.

“Ranboo?” Tommy’s voice was groggy.

“Yup. How you doing?”

“I am so poggers.” Tommy yawned before stretching, his wing nudging Fundy and waking up the fox.

Fundy groaned. “I hate waking up after a thin day. I’m all curled up and shit. It’s the worst, my muscles hurt.”

Ranboo laughed, and by a few minutes later, everyone was up. Niki and Puffy had somewhere to be, so he and Tommy left, too. They promised Eret and Fundy that they’d be back, though.

The walk back to their home was uneventful, which was good, because when they got home, it was chaos.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” Purpled was demanding. “I was up all night and you have the audacity to just go ‘sorry?’ You didn’t sleep yesterday and Tubbo didn’t the night before and I am fucking tired.”

Sam tried to console the boy. “I’m sorry, Purpled. I forget that you can’t fall asleep if one of us is awake. I’ll sleep tonight, okay? I promise.”

“I still have to get through all of today!” Purpled snarled, eyes glowing a little brighter and suddenly pale skin highlighting the bags underneath his eyes that seemed more prominent, now. “I’ve got a fucking headache and my wings are all sensitive and none of you seem to care, because you just stay up all night as if it doesn’t affect anyone else. News flash, pal, the world doesn’t revolve around you!” He stormed off, wings folded tightly around his body.

Sam just stood there.

“Well, hello,” Tommy said, breaking the silence. “Wonderful welcome.”

“He’s been pissy all day,” Tubbo shrugged. “I mean, he hasn’t slept in at least three days, so I’d be, too.”

Ranboo frowned, then remembered Fundy. “Is he having a thin day? It seems to be running in the family right now, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Sam considered it for a second. “That- that is actually a very good hypothesis, Ranboo. I’m going to go call Punz. Behave, boys.”

Once Sam had left the room, Tubbo mumbled, “Anyone in the mood for arson?”

“Nah,” Ranboo shrugged. “I’m gonna go talk with Purpled, but you guys can do whatever.”

Tommy went over to the couch and flopped on top of Tubbo. “Okay. Bye, Ranboo.”

Purpled was in the bedroom, all the lights shut off, curled up in the corner.

“What are you?” Ranboo mused, “A vampire?”

Purpled just scowled. “I might as well be. Leave, or I’ll suck your blood.”

Ranboo shrugged and went over to the bed. “Nah, I don’t think I will. You’re going through your first thin day, you shouldn’t be alone.”

“My first thin day? Why’s that such a big deal?”

“Because it’s your hybrid side growing stronger,” Ranboo said, “It’s probably one of the worst thin days to have, to be honest, since you aren’t used to it and still need to adjust to how it feels.”

Purpled thought about how his day had gone. He’d been up all night, and the previous night, and the one before that, so he couldn’t remember when today had started, but he figured it was probably before the time he’d gone to the bathroom and noticed how pale he was, and how awful his under-eye bags looked.

Yeah, sometime around there, because he’d noticed his wings feeling sensitive a little after that- which was why he’d abandoned blankets, since the fabric had felt all wrong. That had been the wrong choice, since he’d started shaking from the cold.

The day had only gone downhill, too, since he’d stepped one foot outside and immediately gotten a headache from the sunlight.

“Yeah,” Purpled conceded. “This might be a thin day, but it still sucks.”

“No doubt,” Ranboo agreed, moving to sit near Purpled instead of on the bed. “Is the floor comfortable?”

“No, but the walls feel nice on my wings. I dunno why.”

They sat in silence, because they didn’t need to talk. The silence spoke louder than any words that either could have said out loud.

A while later, the door creaked open.

Punz peeked through. “Purpled? You alright? I heard you were having a thin day. They stink.”

“I’m okay.” Purpled said, his voice quieter than he would’ve liked. “I feel bad for snapping at Sam, though.”

“Aw, that’s not your fault, kid.” Punz frowned, moving into the room. “He doesn’t hold it against you.”

“I still feel bad, though. If it didn’t hurt to be in anything but darkness, I’d apologize.”

Ranboo slipped out of the room to let Punz help his brother adapt to the new concept of having thin days, and was surprised to see Phil and Tommy talking.

“I’m sorry,” Phil was saying, and he seemed to be genuine. “I haven’t been the most human recently, and I’m sorry that you had to go through everything just so that I could realize that everything I did was fucked up,” He laughed wetly, tears welling in his eyes. “I wish I could go back and do all of it differently, because in a way I lost all of my sons. I don’t hold it against you, choosing Sam I mean, because in the end, I was a fucking awful father. I’m glad you found someone who could care for you properly, I really am.”

Tommy smiled weakly. “I wish I could say it’s okay. I really want to, Phil, but the things you put me through, Ranboo through, everyone else through… I can’t just put it in the past, but as long as you’re willing to change, I’ll let you have some time, okay?”

“Thank you,” Phil said earnestly. “Tell me to go at any point, and I will. I cross any boundaries, tell me. If Techno does anything you don’t like, tell me. I can’t change what I did and I don’t expect you to forget it, but you even giving me a chance to change is more than I deserve. Thank you, Tommy. You will always mean something to me, even if you don’t consider yourself my son, and from now on, I’ll try harder to stay human, okay?”

“Okay.” Tommy said, voice thick with tears. “As long as you know you fucked up and want to make up for it, I can stand you around, old man.”

Phil laughed, but his laughter died out when Ranboo entered the room. “Oh! Just who I needed to talk to! I, uh, I apologised to Tommy, but I need to talk with you, too.”

Tommy stayed, even as Ranboo sat down and motioned for Phil to continue.

“As I was saying, during the past few years, I slid down a slope that led to me not really being connected with the more human side of things, and recently I’ve realized it. I’ve managed to acknowledge that everything I did was more than fucked, and I’ve hurt an insane amount of people, not to mention I’ve ruined relationships I may never get back. I deserve all of it, of course, but I need to apologize and get it off of my chest, even if you tell me to go to hell and hate me until the day you die.”

Ranboo nodded, but stayed quiet. He didn’t trust his voice.

Phil went on, “I hurt you and nearly made you- well, through my actions, I almost made you kill yourself, is the reality of it, and I know that just saying sorry will never be enough, because a few measly words is in no way enough to make up for the pain and trauma I put you through, not to mention everything with- with L’manburg. But, I think that apologizing is a good place to start, and I can work from there. So, Ranboo Underscore,” Phil took a breath and willed the tears to not fall, “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and everything I’ve put you through. I should have understood much sooner what I did, and the fact that I didn’t will haunt me forever. I completely get if you want me to leave and never return, and won’t hold it against you in the slightest, but if you feel that you can let me make up for what I’ve done while still maintaining good mental health, I would like the chance to.”

Ranboo hesitated, and Phil spoke again.

“Please don’t feel pressured to. You can absolutely tell me to fuck off, I deserve worse. Do whatever you feel is best for you, and I will comply.”

Ranboo felt comforted by that, but… “I can change my mind at any point?”

“Of course,” Phil agreed.

“Then yeah,” Ranboo started. “I can let you try to make up for what you did. This is a good start, but you have a long way to go.”

“Don’t I know it,” Phil nodded. “Thank you, Ranboo, I really mean it.”

“I know you do,” Ranboo said, and he really did. Something told him that Phil really was genuine, and he was inclined to believe it. And, a feeling settled through him, content to stay until the end of time- and it was happiness. He was happy, truly happy, and he wanted it to stay like that.

Phil left Sam’s house, and from a distance, Death watched. She was proud of Phil for apologising and meaning it, and she didn’t doubt that he’d actually try to change. There’d be bigger consequences if he didn’t, she decided, but she knew it’d never come to that.

The whole server had faced reality and came out victorious, so they’d all be family until the day that she came for the last of them.

_______

there will be more one-shots in this universe. this isnt the true ending :)

#ranboo #awesamdude #tommyinnit #tubbo #eret #captain puffy #niki nihachu #fundy #purpled #philza #technoblade #dream #dreamsmp #fluff #the end #im gonna cry

[clownattack]

Castor - character bio

I’ve been struggling with getting a bio out for Cas for waaaaay too long now, but i feel pretty ok with how it looks currently - i'm going to repost it on my art blog with some drawings of Cas and Hjalle in the future (hopefully). If you want to skip most of the nonsense and just get a feel for her personality, the section under the bio paragraphs is FULL OF POINTS.

links to drawn refs here and here

Longpost under the cut

✦ Early life in Hjalle:

Being born into the noble family Aran, Castor’s early life consisted mostly of being pampered by the attendants and strict education. Cas was a rowdy kid, and with time, lack of affection and validation from her family served to amplify the trait - she went from occasionally disobedient to full-on antagonistic towards her parents, and the nobility as a whole. She began to sneak out; spending her time outside of the Fort, spying on the guards and trying to bribe knights into taking her on as a page.

When Cas turned nine a sibling came into the picture, and she made it her duty to assure Aster’s upbringing would be better than hers. She poured everything she had into Aster, but soon developed a brash and overbearing streak, unyielding in her focus to teach the meek little sister to stand her ground. Aster became torn between Cas and the parents, who in all fairness, treated her much better than their firstborn. This would remain the case until Castor’s dragon-induced injuries.

In her late teens, Cas was seldom seen in the fort - to everyone's great relief. Her mood was always sour, she gave up on her studies and only seemed to care about Aster and joining the hunting parties. Her parents reached their limit when Castor announced she would not become one of the renowned judges of House Aran - this led to an explosive argument, which concluded with Castor storming out. For the following two years, she lived and worked with rangers tasked with protecting and providing for the town.

It was in those years that Cas acquired her battle prowess and scars, the most prominent being a gift from an especially large and angry dragon. A single swipe of its tail tore Castor’s chest and forearm open, forcing the hunting party to rush her to the fort in (what the hunters expected to be) a futile attempt to get her family to provide medical help for their dying kin. The reception was cold indeed, and if it weren’t for Aster’s hysterics and outrage over her family’s indifference, Cas would have not survived the grievous wounds. The upside to this event was a new high tale to impress people with, and strengthening the bond between two sisters. The downside - Castor was now under her parent’s thumb. They made her accept the position of inquisitor; to make up for the hassle she caused them. Taking up the mantle turned Castor’s world upside down - not only would she have to work in close proximity to her father, but her dreams of being knighted were shattered, as inquisitorial duties stand in stark opposition to virtues of knighthood. As Inquisitor she was tasked with investigating and interrogating for the court - the latter, as Aran tradition had it, was extraordinarily bloody.

 ✦ Vesuvia:

Almost as soon as she arrived, the city sparked something in Cas. This was unexpected to say the least; she was certain the years of gruesome work as inquisitor numbed her to simple joys of life. The sights and sounds of Vesuvia however, made her eager to explore and see how everything ticked - and the more she saw the more she wished to remain in the city. After attending the Masquerade and becoming acquainted with Asra, Cas was prepared to do anything to stay - even if it meant sucking up to the Buffoon count and begging for a job. Lucio proved to be anything but opposed - he’d heard of the “bloody good shows” (pun intended) Castor was infamous for, and was eager to take her off her parents hands. This led to working parallel to the count and his court, but also enabled Cas to dabble in magic under Asra’s tutelage.

This slight betterment of Cas’ situation would not last long however, as The Red Plague took complete hold of the city mere months after she took up her residence in Vesuvia. After perishing, and being brought back by Asra, she very slowly regains certain memories and traits - her sister, love of astronomy, sword skills. She sneaks out, snoops, and is a handful overall; but Asra is happy to see Castor’s “new” self free of bitterness and pain.

After this point, the “game events” take place. I like to imagine Castor braving an amalgam of Nadia and Portia routes, with a fistful (or multiple) of courtier drama. Castor is tasked with an investigation, slowly  but surely unravelling how deep the corruption runs in Vesuvia, and how much of it can be attributed to the courtiers. The conclusion of her story focuses on first facing off against the court, then the Justice Arcana.

  ✦ Physical appearance

Light olive skin, she picks up a slight tan in Vesuvia.

Dark gray eyes, striking marbling on the iris.

Long girl - 176 cm tall, loves being the “tall friend” (and manhandling people close to her). Being taller than her is taken as an indirect challenge.

She has a rectangular body type, could be described as a “runner’s body”.

Prominent scarring across right forearm and torso, missing right breast.

Tastefully disheveled. Her hair has a constantly windswept quality, and the gray streaks seem to be especially unruly.

Inherited the “Aran silver” (early graying), she tries to ignore it. “The more you hide it, the more it shows”.

Secretly really bothered by the many similarities to her father. Avoids looking at herself too much, and whenever she does it feels like he’s looking back at her, judging.

Only ever smoothes herself over before important court meetings and social events. She doesn't know how makeup works, so before any party she asks Asra to sort her out. Cas looking prim is both a treat and a source of friendly jabs.

✦ Character traits

Power walking by default. This can be somewhat intimidating, and she won’t stop if someone is in her way - just put them to the side and continue.

Puts up a really convincing pretence of formality and refinement.

In actuality she finds this facade tiresome, and just wants to talk fast about battle/hunting feats or astronomy. Maybe show off her pyromancy.

Loves socializing, it recharges her batteries.

Dilligent worker.

Tends to overwork herself and neglect her relationships.

Often scatter minded and wanting to do too many things at one time.

Doesn’t appreciate people instigating physical contact or getting up in her face. She needs to prepare herself for it, or be the initiator.

Stubborn as a mule. Never knows when to stop pressing people.

Extremely callous at times.

Annoyingly overbearing

Most of this springs from a place of fear - things had a habit of getting worse whenever her family imposed decisions onto her. In her mind, if she’s the one holding the reins, everything will be better. And if something does fail - she will be the only one to blame.

Starting arguments comes much too easily to her, but she’s just as quick to introspect, and seek out the person she argued with to apologize and approach the issue in an appropriate manner.

Forgives easily

Eternally scoffing at astrology. She knows shes being bigoted, but at this point its almost like an inside joke between her and Asra. “Astrology? It's baby stuff. PSEUDOSCIENCE!” (she cries as she worries over her afternoon tarot reading and preparing pretty horoscopes for the Shop...)

A huge hypocrite at times. “Do as I say, not as I do” could easily be her motto.

Both the upright and reversed Knight of Swords card sums her character up perfectly.

✦ Occupation & Residency

Vesuvia:

Beginning of her story follows the game canon almost to a T - Cas lives with Asra in the Shop, and works there. It bores her to death, and she plays tricks on every customer just to entertain herself.

After being officially hired by Nadia as the Palace Magician, Castor moves out of the shop and purchases a modest house in Goldgrave, much below the value of what Nadia offered her, and what she could afford. It’s convenient and that’s what matters to Cas. She continues supplying the shop diligently, and takes over whenever Asra runs off.

Nadia insisted on Castor having an office in the palace. It grew on her with time, and after The Devil is dealt with it becomes her little “hub”.

Hjalle:

Cas lived with her family in the castle site until 17 years old.

After denying her parents their plans for her future as a judge, she hunkered down in a hunting lodge outside of the town, and spent almost two years living that way - she still thinks of these two years as the most joyous time in her life.

The only thing she ever used her family’s wealth for was commissioning the construction of an extravagant observatory. Reminiscent of a gothic fortress, the stark exterior is contrasted with insides filled with artwork and art-nouveau ornaments. The central chamber is a vast library with a powerful telescope in its apse - it is a sight that could take the breath of the most haughty of nobles.

There’s a tiny living space below the main chamber, furnished sparingly, but with a lovely fireplace (in Hjalle, its a necessity). It’s where Cas stays after becoming the inquisitor/whenever she visits after the in-game events.

✦ Trivia

Cas is 23 years old when she first arrives to Vesuvia - 28 at the time of The Devil’s downfall.

She freed Merlin from a merchant’s cage in the Red Market, during one of her outings in the three year interlude after her death - Asra fumes after they find out she snuck out to the market - yet is amazed that Cas found a familiar.

Cas regained her first memories via touching objects linked to her past life - a letter from Aster, articles of clothing, a sword...

This self re-discovering takes a turn for the worse when Cas finally finds a large, ornate knife - the one she inherited after becoming inquisitor. The memories it resurfaces are a staggering blow to Castor, completely derailing the beliefs she had about her own person. She thought of herself as a paragon, and remembering the torture she inflicted upon others, the lives taken in the name of “justice” made her relapse into bitterness and disenchantment. She deals with those feelings as her investigation into the courtiers progresses.

Predominantly uses pyromancy, other types of magic are strictly used for her work at the palace, and rather sparingly.

Could be best described as a battlemage - enjoys being in melee range and assaulting her quarry with both sword and fire; the latter being used more as a way to distract or stagger the enemy than actually harm. There's no fun in just burning them up!

Doesn’t cook for herself, although she has a natural knack for it - will only cook for guests and short people.

Her dislike of Lucio clashes with gratitude for employing her when she first arrived to Vesuvia - he was the knife which cut Cas off from her parents, and it’s something she could never forget.

Demiromatic/sexual.

She was offered to be knighted by Nadia after defeating The Devil. Cas declined - It’s much more than a title to her, and accepting seemed like mockery (considering her past as inquisitor).

Short fuse, she learns to better control herself while working in the palace. But if someone really pushes her the nearby candles miiiight get a bit out of control. Or she’ll just throttle them.

Hates her full name - Castor is such a mouthful. Sounds stuck up too...

#mc cas #castor aran #apprentice castor #oc bio #longpost #im pretty sure this is just incomprehensible #also text formatting on tumblr SUCKS i never knew until now #ive beed rewriting this for SO LONG NOW and im TIRED #so ill just leave it here #and if i ever feel like i can do better #oblivion is but a click away #begone #post #i cant write so PLEASE forgive me for the sins contained in this

[dingdongrumba]

Naegami!

Ah yes, my other OTP, thank you anon for this opportunity

who reaches out to new neighbors

Byakuya wouldn’t be caught DEAD socializing without a clear purpose, once again, leave it to Naegi to drag his boyfriend around

Makoto: Byakuya we live in a SOCIETY

who remembers to buy healthy food

Makoto forgets a lot of things, that includes buying the healthy food lmao. That being said Byakuya doesn’t really buy it as much as he reminds Makoto to do it himself, that, or get somebody else to do it lmao

who remembers to buy junk food

Makoto freely and carelessly tosses junk food into the shopping cart lmao, he gets things when he sees them. BUUUUUUUUUUT Byakuya’s the one that regularly restocks Makoto’s favorite snacks so he never runs out

who fixes the oven when it breaks

Makoto broke it. Byakuya sighs and calls someone to help lololol, maybe Makoto learns to fix it himself eventually so they stop having to hire people

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

Definitely Makoto. They’re menial tasks that Byakuya has no interest in taking care of himself. Plus it makes Makoto happy, so why even bother taking that little bit of happiness away from him? He looks super cute while doing it too

who wakes up earlier

Byakuya hands down, he has a strict schedule to follow and he doesn’t skip it. Ever. Makoto thinks he might be an alien.

who makes the bed

Assuming Makoto is already up, I actually think it would be Byakuya in this case!! He likes the tidiness and he doesn’t mind this one piece of “labor”

who makes the coffee

This isn’t even a headcanon this is just f a c t s. It’s Byakuya, obviously, he fucking needs that dirty bean water every day or he will be the actual demon incarnate all day

who burns breakfast

One time Byakuya because no one else was available and he was in a hurry so he was forced to cook breakfast and let’s just say he’s learned to go hungry for an hour or two ever since that day lmAO

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

Byakuya: Makoto. I’m leaving.

Makoto: Okay!! Have a good day at work!! *give him at least 3 kisses*

Byakuya doesn’t want to admit he only makes sure to tell him properly because he likes how overenthusiastic Makoto is with his kisses

If Makoto is the one living he just gives him a quick peck on the cheek and waves lol

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home

Byakuya simply announces his arrival while Makoto comes inside and gives him a tight hug

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

I think Makoto might bring more stuff for both of them while Byakuya might think more about getting things so the house looks pretty! Also he buys Makoto clothes. Lots of them. He likes to see his boyfriend well dressed

who picks the movie for movie night

Byakuya is the kind of person that doesn’t suggest anything but will criticize every option you give him lmAO. So Makoto is the one that picks, but it takes them forever before finally settling on one.

their favorite kind of movie to watch

At first Byakuya will only watch like, award-winning movies and shit like that but eventually he encounters the joy of watching Makoto laugh to stupid romcom movies and suddenly that’s all they watch anymore lMAO

who first suggests a pillow fort

IT’S OBVIOUSLY MAKOTO!!! Byakuya sighs and rolls his eyes but Makoto is so excited, he’s not going to ruin that for him. At the end they both have a pretty good time so Byakuya is glad he accepted, bless

who builds the pillow fort

Makoto as well, but Byakuya does end up helping him too

who tries to distract the other during the movie

Neither. Makoto is already super distracting on his own lmAO, it’s Byakuya the one that ends up initiating all the contact and cuddles, he doesn’t even do it on purpose. Makoto is just,,,, there watching the movie and Byakuya just wHAMS GOES AND KISSES HIM

who falls asleep first

Makoto hands down. Byakuya is tired all the time but he’s used to staying up late and overworking. Meanwhile Makoto has a lot of energy but when it drains? It drains quickly, he falls asleep immediately

who is big spoon/little spoon

Again, based solely on heights, Makoto is the little spoon most of the time but???? sometimes Byakuya is fast asleep and Makoto can’t help but come and spoon his handsome boyfriend. One time Byakuya woke up during it and he decided it was Not Bad so they stayed like that for a while

#excellent ship 10/10 #dr1 #makoto #togami #naegami #ask #Anonymous