#though i certainly have picked up on small things there like i tend to with folks

[wavernot4love]

alright y'all lil (alright, maybe not so little) recap of the second show of AG's Boom Done tour last night 3.4 in Buffalo @ one of my favorite venues, Mohawk Place. because my brain commits absolutely everything to memory at shows & i like writing it all down before i forget

(for fun & plus maybe folks going to this tour want to know what's shakin, since i haven't seen much online yet):

(note there will be setlist spoilers)

- alright so first, a freakin HIGHLIGHT for me was, of course, GET OUT!!!

Anthony was just kinda messing around with his guitar & then teased it by being like "hmm... how should i play this..." and then went into that and the crowd reception was AWESOME, dude. whatever the opposite of masking is, that's what i was doing there. i definitely started physically jumping up & down once i realized what it was (typical wavernot4love @ the AG show behavior). aka evidently he knew your boy (who like i've mentioned on here, got into Circa last summer through a kind person at a Dunes show rec'ing me Get Out & then BSN. Get Out was straight up my introduction 2 Circa) was in the building (/Ih).

also, i had to shorten my clip to post because in the rest i must've had my phone right next to my mouth,,, which made for some horrifying tone deaf live vox from wavernot4love. be glad i spared y'all from that one.

(i'm gonna put one of those keep reading thingies here, click it 2 see the rest)

- he also played Dyed In The Wool & Frozen Creek, continuing that theme (though I expected these more since he's played em recently). Dyed In The Wool with everyone singing along during the chorus was probably my top moment, and one that's gonna stick with me forever, honestly. i remember thinking it straight up felt like, a churchlike (but positive) experience or something during the songs everyone did that for (remember, it's just anthony this tour no backing band, so it was somewhat quiet in there). more on that later, but AG kept pointing out how nice the singing along was & how fun/awesome this all was, and man, that it was.

- he mentioned valuing spontaneity over a planned setlist every night and basically implied he was just goin for whatever felt right at the time. so just consider the songs i mention here as a basic guideline, he could very well switch stuff up every night. i love that he's like this when it comes to shows - idk dude, like, at one point he even asked folks what time it was, laughing when they told him, jokingly accusing them of being untrustworthy & then going right back into the tunes. dude was just here to play, for as long as he could.

- kinda tied to that, there was a running gag of the set being "inconsistent" (his word). he'd bring up jokingly that there'd be moments where everyone could be singing along, and then songs that nobody knows (and he'd jokingly "apologize" for that), and he'd even (lightheartedly) call specific people out and be like (to laughs) "look at this person, they have no *idea* what i'm gonna play next!" actually i think he said that before Get Out. at one point he was (paraphrased slightly) like, "so if i start playing 12 Circa songs in a row, let me know." i love how he just does whatever the hell feels right in the moment.

- also a couple times he messed up while starting a song (i think due to laughing) and bro would call out folks laughing at him for it (lightheartedly) and be like "this is all performance. vou don't know what goes into this!" (this was not at all serious and said through laughter. straight up half the show was all of us in that room just cracking up together)

- he introduced his Title Fight cover (Numb, But I Still Feel It) by calling TF one of his favorite bands & joking that they're gonna hear this & think it's time to get back together so... if you hear that Title Fight reunited, you know why, which, well, if you know that side of the scene, you know what's up. real shits and giggles moment, if i do say so myself.

- at one point (only bad thing) someone at the front was being objectively Weird in the way people (unfortunately) do to try to get an artist's attention (let's just say it involved throwing money (????? literally what) while yelling stuff about understanding because they're in the industry (??)) and he honestly handled it with so much grace. he pretty much said that made him uncomfortable etc and he would Not be taking more of their money please, he already did that, and that led to him ranting for a second i think mostly to himself in a thinking out loud/under his breath kinda way about *hating* having to sell stuff in the first place in order to do this and like,,, i go into this a bit in the tags but it genuinely reminded me of how i get when i'm passionate about something. what i'm trying to say, is dude clearly was heated & meant it. fully. just felt relevant to include

- then he ranted about something related to the moneythrowing, drunk (question mark) weirdo (long story, but it ended in him telling them to tip bartenders with their money instead of weird things), then used that to go on a tangent about how we should always tip people working in service in general and respect/be kind to them even if they seem rude or whatever because doing that shit is hard & sucks and maybe your kindess will be the wakeup call that causes them to one day have a moment where they're like, man, i was a dick back then for no reason. (i feel like i am nearly direct quoting him here)

- then after a song he joked about the incident saving we were probably just all watching like 🧍‍♂️ and it was like watching dad yell at mom at the dinner table while you just sit there staring at the ground and safe to say the mood was fully lightened after that moment of self awareness fhfhfh

- then a few songs later i guess the person that was being weird had left so he was like, (at this point there were no weird vibes whatsoever, like we were all just scoffing/laughing at the situation and cheering him on) "oh that person who hates me left. did they give the bartender that money?" (someone implied they thought so) and he was like "good." and that was the end with that weirdo situation lol. i have absolutely no idea why that person, drunk or not, thought that was a normal cool thing to do. as always, please don't be weird 2 musicians they are in every sense just Some Guys (gender neutral), treat them like anyone else.

- back 2 totally unserious things, during... uh don't mind me, like i've said in my previous posts i'm still getting 2 know Boom Done, so whatever song has like, the horns kinda near the end? he just started making freakin. horn noises since since there were, in fact, no horns in the building and made us all do them too and everyone was just straight up cackling because it was so stupid (/pos).

- idk one thing that stood out to me was one person belting along at the end of... i can't remember what song it was actually, i think one of his older tunes, but you could tell he heard & a song later complimented it & said it was beautiful. i'm telling ya, he kept going on about how nice folks singing along sounded and encouraging that, which was awesome because i wasn't sure what the vibe was gonna be there since it was just him playing.

- don't want to go into detail since it feels like something between Anthony & whoever he decides to tell it to in real time, ya know, but he did tell a pretty extensive story leading up to Miracle Sun. in terms of themes, it was in regards to (with plenty of laughs mixed into the serious bits, of course) letting folks that matter to him down + falling into a cycle of engaging in stuff that temporarily made him feel better but was moreso just self destructive, in the past. just interesting stuff to hear in connection to a song.

- at the end, before Dear Child, he just talked in the most honest manner about knowing he's let people down, cancelled shows (there were laughs mixed in here too), just not been the best version of himself over the years etc, but appreciating how long everyone has stuck around, and how we keep coming back, & jow much it means whenever we tell someone go check out a song or anything like that, & helping him continue to do this and also support his family and whatnot and man it just. embodied everything i love about AG solo sets i guess. i just admire how open a book &p vulnerable dude is. while i love his more theatric frontman persona of course as it's fun as hell, it's so nice at solo shows like this to hear more from him, in seriousness and otherwise. also dude was posting about how fun it was on instagram later so i'm just glad we all had a great time.

- also at one point before a new tune he was talking about these cds he had that have that on it + some rerecordings, Frozen Creek (feat. Keith of GOW), etc. i love cds so i ran to snag one later of course (they're $12)

- as for other merch he had a few shirts (like that cute one i keep seeing around, with him & the puppy), some art prints, & the Boom Done book thingy (i really wanted it but couldn't swing the $25 right now sadly)

anyways,, i posted on Setlist FM for the first time, here are all the songs i remember for sure (there were definitely at least 4/5 others i am not thinking of, i'd say he did 17ish songs, he played for close to an hour and a half. keep in mind he talked a LOT with us which was awesome)

edit: someone added a few more!!!

anyways, that's the show!!! 1. i may or may not be trying 2 figure out how to pull off one of the other northeast dates (looking @ Cleveland, which is closer but i'd have to drive to, or New York, which is further (+ yknow.. dealing w getting around in NY) but i could take a bus to, this weekend/next week as we speak,,,, that's how freakin good and homey (more on that in the tags aka uhh literal diary section of this post) and impactful this show was.

and 2. if any of this (especially said tags) sounds loopy it sure is because i wrote most of this at roughly four am last night post show, when i was even moreso still back *at* the show in my head. i still stand by all of it though of course, i just know it might not be the most coherent.

this tour rocks. AG's tunes mean so much to me. get out 2 a show!!! tell me about your experiences if ya do/did!!!! yay!!!!

#it is safe to say i have genuinely endless respect & admiration for this person who happens to be my favorite artist in the world #i could not be happier or moreso in my neutral state of how i feel like things should be than i am at the ag show #also the more i hear him talk the more i realize homie reminds me of... me. #not in a “me modeling my behaviors after him because i look up to him” kinda way #though i certainly have picked up on small things there like i tend to with folks #like phrases and the like #but no #moreso just in a “the two of us happen to share some innate similarities in regards to a buncha stuff” kinda way #just an observation. in hindsight i wonder if i subconsciously picked up on this back when i was first getting into his music #n that contributed to it resonating with me so much #i don't know man i just know i'm glad 2 have this dude's music in my life and to see homie thriving #truly hope we can meet @ a show sometime soon so i can dive into how much of a positive impact he's had on my life. i have so much to say!! #i tried to make that happen at this show i really did #i just guess it wasn't meant 2 happen then. and that is okay!! i know it will whenever it's meant to. #going back to what i said about everything just feeling.... right at the show i keep thinking about how while i miss that already #and am kinda having a crisis where in my head i feel like i'm still there (or should be) as opposed 2 here back in regular just. life #i'm just glad and lucky moments like this show are a real thing that can be my life at all. #basically i just mean the vibe of ag shows feels like everything i define my life by really #realized as something/place i can actually physically experience. #shows r my safe space that embody everything i dream about when i'm just going about day to day life #live music is everything 2 me & that's only amplified exponentially by folks like anthony that get it & turn shows even moreso into a home #thanks for reading if you have #i'm truly glad to have this space where i feel like i can talk about Everything #i love that on here the “oversharing” thing is just a thing everyone does #actually that ties back to what i brought up about anthony #i respect how unapologetically open that dude is in ways that might be “too much” for some people & really connect 2 that #point is i am so grateful for days like this and music like this and people like this #anthony green #circa survive #wavernot4love talks ag tunes

[thetriumphantpanda]

feel the rain on your skin | din djarin

Summary | The Mandalorian has never felt the rain on his face.

Pairing | Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.5K

Warnings | Future chapters will include smut, but this one just involves a lot of yearning mainly.

Authors Note | I saw this absolutely stunning piece of work by @plattenbauprinz and I couldn't let it lie, I had to write it. I have never written for Din before, because he's like a comfort blanket to me, but I couldn't resist. This will be part of a longer series which I cannot wait to share with you all. As always, comments, reblogs and freaking out in my ask box are all welcome and if you enjoyed this, please consider supporting me with a donation to my Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists - please follow @thetriumpantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to know when I upload fics.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

It’s raining. You can’t remember the last time you were anywhere that it rained. The Mandalorian has acquiesced to you wanting the Crest open so you can listen to the drops pelt the ground. It’s comforting. Reminds you of home. Not that you have a home anymore. No family, no base to dream of returning to, but it’s comforting none-the-less. 

It hadn’t even been planned like this, The Mandalorian and you, it had just sort of happened. You’d hurt yourself in front of him, thought that the shootout he’d caused was over. You’d moved from where you were cowering, attempting to run anywhere that might be safer than the boxes you’d used as a barricade. You’d been wrong though. He’d been waiting for his final assailant, who you’d later learned was his bounty, to show himself. He’d done just that, almost simultaneously as you’d started running for the door on the opposite side of the street. The blaster had grazed your upper arm – not the worst injury by any means, but you still cried out, crumpled to the ground in pain, and waited for what you’d assumed would be your ending. 

You’d listened as the two exchanged more fire until the town was silent again. You’d convinced yourself he’d walked away, and you wouldn’t have blamed him really, he didn’t owe you anything, your injury was your own fault, and in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t even that bad, you were just being dramatic. But then, his shadow fell over your body, blocking out the early afternoon sun as he bent, picked you up bridal style and carried you all the way to his ship. He’d patched you up silently, left you there on your own whilst he retrieved the body of his bounty and returned. 

“Do you have somewhere to go?” He asked, clearing up the mess he’d made cleaning you up. 

Technically you did. The small, dark room you called home on this Godforsaken planet. But no-one would miss you, no friends, just the landlord that would miss his money. So, you shake your head. 

That’s how it had been for months. Trailing behind him wherever he went. It started as him taking you to the next planet, he was going to drop you there, but when he turned to you and asked if you thought it would do, you’d shaken your head and said no. It was a lie, because wherever it was – you don’t remember now – it would have been fine. It was more of a test, testing to see what he would do. You certainly didn’t expect him to shrug and lead you back to The Crest. This had continued for months, a sort of dance between the two of you, until he’d simply stopped asking you. You think it’s because secretly, not that he would actually admit it, he’s lonely. Even though he has The Child, the little green monster who you think might actually be the real reason you don’t want to leave. He’s more silent than The Mandalorian, but when he looks at you with those buggy eyes and starts to cause havoc, you can’t help but let your heart swell. 

He's a man of few words, The Mandalorian – doesn’t like small talk, tends to remain silent when you sit with him the cockpit and chatter away. You don’t really know much about him apart from what you’d learnt about their creed in your younger years. 

“You know, if I’m going to stay with you, you’ll have to tell me something about you eventually.” You teased one time, he was sat in his chair in the cockpit, you were behind him, eating some ration pack. All he’d done was huff through his modulator. Sounded more like a challenge to you than anything else.  

And so here you were, months later, sitting just inside The Crest, just enough to keep yourself dry, knees brought up to your chest as you let the cool air fall over your body. You can hear his heavy footsteps before you sense him next to you. When you tip your head up, he’s leaning on his right side against the opening of the ship, arms crossed over his chest. 

“You know, when I was little, I used to run around in the rain,” You muse, “Get all muddy and wet, I wonder why we never do that when we grow up.” 

“I’ve never felt the rain.” It’s a simple confession but one that almost breaks your heart, because of course he hasn’t. Committed to his creed and The Way, this man who you really think at this point was made purely of beskar, of course he’d not felt the rain on his skin. 

You stand slowly, taking tentative steps down the ramp until you can feel the drops hitting your skin. It’s cold, is the first thing you register, and then you start laughing when you see him, still leaning against the side of The Crest with his arms folded, helmet tilted in a way that you just know means he’s frowning under there. 

“Come on.” You urge, holding out your hand as you walk a few more steps backwards. 

When he doesn’t follow you, you hold your arms out and spin, holding your face to the sky as the water hits your skin. You giggle again until you slip, the mud underfoot making you unsteady. You would have fallen if it hadn’t been for the strong arm that wraps around your middle to keep you up. When you pull yourself up, your face is almost close enough to his visor that you could breathe onto him and draw shapes in the clouds you leave behind. He doesn’t let you go though.

You can feel the rain soaking your hair, seeping through your clothes, and there’s something oddly romantic about the way he’s holding you, his hand splayed across your lower back. If this had been anyone else, they’d lean in and kiss you, you just know it. But he isn’t anyone else, he’s The Mandalorian, so he finally unravels his arm from your back and moves to walk away. 

“Hey,” You say softly, gripping his wrist, turning him back to you, “Just trust me, okay?”

He gives a short nod. You stand in front of him, close your eyes, and put your hands on his helmet. You don’t add any pressure, you’re not going to force him to do this, but you’re going to give him the choice. Eyes firmly pressed shut, you wait. It feels like an eternity, but then you feel his gloved hands cover your own, some kind of mechanical sound you’ve never heard before, but then your hands are moving with his own, moving the helmet from his face. 

You keep your eyes closed as your hands fall from beneath his own. You don’t know why but you place them on the cool metal of his chest as you tilt your head back up to the rain, letting it cleanse you, although from what you don’t know. You don’t know how long you stay like this, your hands on his chest, but it feels like hours. Then, you feel the gloved hand that isn’t clutching his helmet meet the skin of your face. 

You gasp when he cups your face. It’s soft, gentle, and he just rests it there for a moment, letting your cheek tip further into his touch. Then, his thumb starts to move slowly across your skin, rubbing a line across your cheek that feels like it might set you alight. Then, his gloved thumb pulls down and drags across your bottom lip. You think now about how easy it would be to flutter your eyes open and look at him, look at the man he really is under all his metal, but you don’t, you wouldn’t dare. You just stand there, letting him take you in with his naked eyes. 

“Mesh’la.”

You have no idea what it means, but you think it must be important, something he’s not yet ready to tell you, if he speaks it in his own language and not the one you share. But his voice, oh his voice, it’s so pretty, you think. Then, his warm touch is gone. You breathe out air you hadn’t realized you were holding onto. 

“You can look now.” His voice is back to what it usually sounds likes, meaning his helmet is back on. 

You slowly blink your eyes open, letting them adjust to the light. He’s stood in front of you, stoic as ever, as if he hadn’t just been the most vulnerable he’s ever been in front of you. You want to run to him, wrap yourself in him, ask him to touch you again and never let go. You don’t though, you just follow behind him back into the dry cover of The Crest. 

“You’re cold.” He observes simply when you start to shiver, sodden clothes sticking to you. 

“I-I’m f-fine.” Your teeth chatter, betraying you. 

He rummages through a box, pulling out clean clothes. They’re his, they’ll drown you when you wear them, but something about this feels like turning a corner, all of this does, so you take them when they’re offered to you. Set them gently on the counter in the fresher as you wait for the water to warm enough. And as you stand under the slow fall of warm water, you wonder what other firsts you might be able to show The Mandalorian. 

#Din Djarin #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin fic #Din Djarin fanfic #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian fic #The Mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

[courtlyharlequin]

Hello! May I request the Diasomnia boys taking a familial role for the reader? For instance Lilia being the father, Malleus being the older brother, etc. it doesn’t have to be those in specific so feel free to put your own twist to it! I’ll love anything you write :) and thank you!

I Found It All On My Own

A/N: *weeps* I love Diasomnia's found family dynamics. I decided to do Lilia as the father figure, Malleus and Silver as older brothers and Sebek as like a twin brother in the same year? Oughdfhj I feel like with everything going on in chapter seven right now, these headcanons would be perfect to write. Don't worry there won't be major spoilers. Well, if you know then you can spot them, but they won't ruin the story for you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is naturally protective of everyone- especially the people he's close to. His family, if you will. Perhaps it's because he feels bound to his duty as a dorm leader, an heir, or maybe he knows how fragile life is. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt or be unhappy

He goes out of his way to intervene or watch you from afar... just to keep you safe. Malleus is like one of those older brothers that spy on you for "your own good" or "just to make sure"

Sometimes, Malleus would cast a spell to ensure whatever your date, errand, appointment, hangout with a friend, etc. goes well. There will be no rain, sleet or snow. Not a single loud in the sky. The weather will always be perfect. Everything would be too perfect.

If another party is late, makes a side remark or wrongs you, Malleus might entertain the idea of striking them with lightning. Or... slightly inconveniencing their day after they part ways with you.

If you pick up on it, you'd have to tell him. He wouldn't stop otherwise. In your heart, you know he means well. Malleus wants you to be happy no matter what. Your smile means the world to him. He truly enjoys hearing about your amazing day and how you smile when you show him the things you bought or the grades you got, but how can there be good days if there are no bad ones or any mishaps?

Reassure him that if you ever need help, you'd ask him. If there's anyone in the world capable of protecting you and coming to you when you need someone the most- it's Malleus. Tell him that and he'll be trying to hide his smug smile all day.

Lilia Vanrouge:

He's a father figure for many, including you. While not the best cook and using... conventional methods of parenting on some occasions, Lilia is someone you'd accidentally call dad

His age is most certainly a factor, but it's also how he always tells you stories from the past or invites you to sit down and play some video games with him after a long day. Like a dad who doesn't know how to comfort you, but tries his best anyways.

Another way Lilia comforts you, or rather, shows his love is buying whatever you seem to like eating at the moment. Oh these frozen waffles taste good? He'd get you a few more boxes for good measure. He can't cook, but he'll get you all your favorite snacks and frozen meals.

Like Malleus, Lilia also looks after you. He just isn't as much of a helicopter as Malleus is. So maybe not like Malleus.

Lilia simply asks you about your day. He's quite perceptive and has incredible intuition so even if you lie, he knows something is up. He won't ever ask you directly, believing that you could figure it out eventually. Still, he quips the typical dad thing and says that he'll always be here if you need him. You could tell him anything!

Not that you would. Teenagers tend to be more reluctant to share things with their guardians. He would know. He was that age some centuries ago.

...He might meddle a little if he sees you struggle a too much though. If you have trouble making friends, Lilia might ask Silver to befriend you. Or at least walk you to class and make some small talk

Silver:

Silver is little more subtle than Malleus and Lilia when it comes to showing love and looking out for you. He won't buy you too much food or curse your worst enemy, but he'll support you!

He's never had a younger sibling and you're the closest thing to that he has. He cherishes you a lot because of that

His speech isn't as eloquent as Lilia's nor is he as powerful as Malleus, but you can always count on him to show up for you. You have a recital or speech to give? He'll be there. You post something on social media? He's the first like. He won't comment, but he'll like the post. And reblog/retweet it if you need more exposure

He also wouldn't mind if you steal some of his stuff... in moderation. Silver doesn't get irritated easily. He's fairly lax when it comes to these things so if you want something- be it food, clothes, some school supplies- all you have to do is ask

Silver is the dream big brother most siblings would want. You and him rarely ever argue. He's got a decent temperament and hypes you up when you need it.

He'll also agree to help you hide something if you really don't want Lilia or Malleus to know. Silver will recommend you tell them about it, but if you insist... then he won't push it. He'll be hesitant, but he won't spill the beans.

Silver also has this inability to be not so good at comforting (maybe he gets it from Lilia), but he tries his best. He's not good with deep, long conversations about life or growing, but he would one hundred percent listen to you and pat your back or head depending on the situation

Sebek Zigvolt:

If Silver is the sibling you get along with, then Sebek is the one you don't get along with. Neither of you hate the other, it's more so constant bickering over trivial matters

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"How do you know I'm looking at you? Aren't you the one looking at me?"

Nevertheless, like most sibling relationships, at the end of the day, you still love each other. Sebek isn't as soft spoken like Silver. He doesn't show love like Lilia or Malleus either. He's a bit on the harsher side, but his actions will somehow always speak louder than his blunt words.

Sebek will help you with your homework. He won't do a full on tutoring session, but he'll show you how to solve a problem or two. He might even lend you his notes. From the bottom of his heart, he really does want you to succeed.

If you need someone to give you the truth and nothing but the truth, Sebek is the one to go to. He doesn't sugarcoat his opinion that often. If that sweater looks ugly, he'll tell you if you show it to him

Sebek also won't hesitate to call out anyone who says something mean to you. Though the two of may have your back and forths, the things he says to you are never truly hurtful. Sebek doesn't fully realize it, still calling you "human", but he does worry about you from time to time. What kind of trouble would you get into? Would he be able to help?

He doesn't have many friends or siblings... Silver hardly counts in his eyes. You sort of count? He's fond of you to say the least. He'd like to pat your head like Silver does one day.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader

[thatonegenshinsimp]

Sleepy Cuddles Part 2

Part 1 here!

Masterlist

Notes: Decided to do a continuation since everyone loved the last one. Enjoy~

Characters: Aether, Ayato, Capitano, Dainsleif, Pantalone, Dottore

Aether

He loves to cuddle!

Prefers to be the little spoon, but if you insist, he’ll let you be the little spoon instead.

He sometimes loves to go cloud gazing with you and cuddle with you while you cloud gaze together.

Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes, when he gets really lonely, and the burden of his journey through the Seven Nations weighs heavy on him, he just needs you to cuddle with him for a bit.

Sometimes, he’ll let you take his hair out of its braid and style it however you want to.

His personal favorite is if you can do multiple braids at once.

I swear his love language is physical touch and acts of service, even though he hates doing everything for everyone else, he doesn’t mind if it’s you he’s doing it for.

Ayato

He won't admit it, but he likes to cuddle with you after a long day of work.

He's a big spoon and no, I won't take criticism on this, although another position he absolutely loves is when he's on his back and has you asleep on his chest.

This way, if there are any other matters he needs to attend to, such as last minute document checks, he can still do that and hold you at the same time.

Ayato's love language is acts of service for the sole reason that it's been ingrained in his mind that he has to work in order to gain the approval of others.

He must admit, though, he does love it whenever you drowsily walk into his office at the ungodly hour of one in the morning, sleepily plop yourself down on his lap, and wrap yourself around him as you fall asleep.

He loves to have you run your fingers through his hair, it's one of the only things that puts him to sleep quickly.

For a while, it was a cause for concern, since it made him feel so relaxed so quickly when he felt the need to be on constant alert, but eventually, he just went with it, and goes to you whenever he needs to truly relax after a long day of signing papers and approving documents.

Capitano

He rarely has the time to spend with you in the first place, but if he could spend it one way, it would be with you in his arms or, on very rare occasions, him in yours.

It's not uncommon for him to go to you if he's just gotten back from a mission and pick you up before carrying you off to the bedroom to hold you.

His love language is gifting you things and physical touch, since he lacks in his ability to give verbal compliments, he shows his love through gifts and small gestures.

However, the most genuine show of trust and love he can give is letting you take off his helmet and see his face.

There are nights where he needs to hold you because he had a nightmare about you getting injured, whereas there are others where he wants to be the one laying on top of you as you hold him close to you.

Another one with sensitive scalp that loves head massages. He’ll lay his head on your lap and let you run your fingers through his hair while you talk about your day or he about his.

He also loves to cuddle after a long day of work, laying his head against your chest to hear your pulse as it lulls him to sleep.

Dainsleif

He usually only shows such vulnerability in the comfort of your home.

it's not that Dain's love language isn't physical touch, because it most certainly is, he just worries for your safety in public if others associate you with him and vice versa.

Which is exactly why he picks you up when you two finally arrive home for the day and sits on the couch with you on his lap.

He loves spooning, he's a big spoon, but he can't deny the comfort that you laying on top of him brings. It helps ground him if he's having a particularly stressful day, and it also helps him calm down as he basks in the wonder that is you.

He won't admit it, but he loves holding your hands whenever he cuddles with you.

He usually does whatever you're comfortable with, though. He tends to put you first.

Pantalone

He likes to be on his side and have you be the little spoon.

Being a Harbinger gets stressful, and cuddles with you seem to be the best type of remedy for that stress.

His love language is obviously gift giving, but he also loves words of affirmation, too.

He’ll lay down with you and whisper words of comfort in your ear as the two of you fall asleep on each other.

He loves laying his head on your lap, being able to look up at you as he talks about his day or whatever you two want to talk about.

This is the only time he takes off his glasses, since he can’t see very well without them, and since he trusts you to tell him if anyone tries to bother the two of you.

As much as he trusts you, you can trust him. He cares about you, and if the only way he can show it is through the way he holds you, then he will hold you until you know how much he cherishes having you in his life.

Dottore

He doesn’t usually have the time to visit you for cuddles.

However, that’s not to say that you don’t have the time to visit him in his office.

His favorite position is when you’re sitting in his lap, so he can still work and show you affection at the same time.

He’ll have an arm draped over your waist and he’ll be leaning over you as he fills out paperwork.

Dottore won’t get up as long as you’re on his lap, unless there are experiments that need his attention and his segments are busy.

His love language is physical touch since he never really knows what you like or what to do for you. You’re the only person he doesn’t know how to properly read.

Although he may seem cold and heartless to others, he has a softer side he saves for you alone, and it shows in the way he holds your hand and his smile is more genuine as he works.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #aether genshin impact #aether x reader #ayato kamisato #genshin impact ayato #ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #capitano #il capitano #capitano x reader #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #genshin pantalone #pantalone #genshin regrator #pantalone x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore

[lunarmoves]

through pixel eyes (chapter two)

pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader

mentions: kinitopet/virtual au, gender neutral reader, general creepiness

a/n: i looked at this chapter for too long and it feels like ~garbage~ but! its here! take a shot every time i use the word "window" or "desktop" LMFAOO i'm going insane

word count: 6.8k+

masterlist | part one

ao3 link

You stayed up way too long last night, scrolling on your phone in bed, and now you’re paying the price for it. Namely, with a completely dead phone and a familiar, fatigued itch to your eyes once you manage to pry them open to start your day. It’s nothing you’re unaccustomed to, however, so you power through it knowing you’ll end up taking a nap later. 

Fumbling out of bed, you plug your phone into a nearby outlet to charge and make your way through your morning routine. Cold water from your bathroom sink helps to refresh and wake you up properly so you can proceed with your tasks for the day. You throw open the curtains of your living room and kitchen so you can bask in the honeyed light coming from the sun, sweet and lush as it paints your walls a vibrant gold.

Breakfast is made, evaluations are done, forms are submitted—all before late afternoon. You thank your past self for all the leftovers you made to cruise you through the next few days. It’s always nice not having to cook in the evenings. You lounge around for a bit on your living room couch and indulge in a short nap before you plop yourself down in front of your computer for the long haul. 

Navigating to your email, you pull up the submission form once more and fill out the basic information for now. You can’t even count how many times you’ve done this before for numerous other products. Companies tend to use the same generic questions, though sometimes they’re specific depending on what is being developed. At other times they don’t even require you to fill out a form and instead have you attend weekly meetings or update them via email. Either way, you can do shit like this in your sleep. 

Alright, game time. You minimize the form’s window and double click on the FazPals icon as you fumble for your headphones. Nestling them around your ears, you watch in amusement as Sun pops up by sticking his head down from the top of your monitor like he’s perched upon a ledge just out of view. 

“Friend!!” he cheers and waves both his hands at you zealously. You’re almost tempted to return the gesture. He swings the rest of his body down in a fluid flip and lands in the center of your desktop with a dazzling twirl. Confetti erupts into the air around him, the little digital strips of color disappearing once they float to the “ground” Sun stands on. 

That same small, unlabeled window pops up at his side for you to type in. ‘hi sun.’ 

“Hello, hello! You’re back early!” Sun claps his little hands together and sways side to side rather jovially, bouncing slightly with each bob of his head. You have to raise your volume a little to hear his voice better, though the dialogue box near his head certainly picks up the slack. 

‘yep. how r u doin?’ It’s so easy to slip into a typical conversation with him and push against the limits of his software. Whether that’s a good or bad thing, you’re uncertain. 

Sun’s head twitches to the side, white eyes seemingly looking right at you. “Absolutely fantastic now that you’re here!” He winks at you, grin curling at the tips. “What would you like to do today?” 

The textbox waits for your response. You purse your lips as you contemplate. What have you done with Sun thus far? He told you some fun facts and played games with you. That just left… ‘can u tell me a story?’ 

He pauses—minutely, very minutely—then resumes his swaying like nothing had happened. His rays jerk slightly outwards and he smiles in a mischievous sort of way. “Hmm, why don’t you ask Moon for one later? He is much better at storytelling than I am!” 

You squint at him. Well, alright then. You hadn’t been expecting that sort of response. Shouldn’t they both be equally as good at storytelling if they are made from the same code? Maybe it’s a personality thing. You consider questioning him, but before you can type anything in, Sun forges on. “Is there anything else you would like to do? Remember, input ‘/help’ for available commands!” 

Your fingers tap against the surface of your desk lightly, but in the end, you brush off his response. You shrug to yourself and pick the other option you hadn’t yet done with Sun. ‘then can u tell me a joke?’ 

“Oh boy! I sure can!” He smiles widely and pulls out a pair of large, black glasses from behind him with one hand. With the other hand, he pulls out a small, nondescript book. Is that a… joke book? Putting the glasses delicately on his face—you’re not sure how they stay on when he has no ears, but you chalk it up to technological magic—he clears his artificial voice and cracks the book open. “Why did the star get arrested?”

It seems the celestial theme extends to jokes too. Go figure. ‘i dunno. why?’

“Because it was a shooting star!” He grins, his rays spinning about his head like what he’d just said had been a particularly good one. You snicker more due to his reaction than the joke itself. 

‘that was so bad,’ you type in light jest. And also kind of dark? ‘why did i laugh.’ 

“Because it was clearly good!” Sun replies. The glasses he has on makes his eyes look comically larger than they actually are and it has to be the silliest thing you’ve seen. “Here’s a better one: Why didn’t the Dog Star laugh at any jokes?” 

You can see the punchline coming from a mile away, but you still indulge him. ‘idk, why?’

“Because it was Sirius!” 

‘now that one was just predictable.’

“Ho ho, are you challenging me, Friend?” Sun suddenly asks slyly. “Because I am very, very capable.” Uh oh.

You shouldn’t have said anything, because he spends the next half an hour “reading” from that joke book of his and bombarding you with pun after pun. Now I know better than to critique his jokes, you think miserably to yourself as you listen to another one about Jupiter. There can only be so many jokes about the universe and stars, surely. 

You eventually have to draw the line as he reads to you a joke about aliens (“What do you do with a green alien? Wait for it to ripen!”). You’re not here to evaluate the quality of his jokes. ‘okay u win, u win. i won’t doubt ur joke abilities ever again.’ 

Sun harrumphs and closes the little book in his hands with a snap. He takes off his glasses and— well, you’re not sure what he does, but one minute both items are in his hands and the next they’re gone. Like a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it trick. “Thank you. I accept this win with utmost humility.” The way he smiles makes you doubt this, somehow. 

“Alrighty!” He claps his hands together, his smile twitching slightly when his dialogue box appears a bit too close to his head. “Let’s do something else, shall we? How do you feel about”—he pauses for dramatic effect, then splays his arms out so he can do jazz hands—“Arts ‘n Crafts!”

It’s not like you’re going to refuse. ‘sure, sounds fun.’ 

“Wonderful!” 

Like yesterday, he skips over to the side of your monitor to pull over the window of your Paint app and place it in the center of your screen once again. Seriously, how is he opening that? Then, he jumps up and perches himself on top of the window like he’s sitting upon it. His legs swing down, moving back and forth like they’re dangling off the edge of a precipice. 

“Okay, Friend,” he starts as he reaches behind him and pulls out a little paintbrush. He spins it fluidly along his fingers and joints in a subtle display of dexterity. “For this activity, I will give you a prompt and you will be required to draw it! Simple and easy!” 

A painting session? You can’t say you’re particularly good at drawing on your computer. You eye your mouse and cringe. Then, you hum and decide to tease him a little, just for the hell of it. ‘seems more arts than crafts to me.’ 

Sun waves his free hand as though to brush off your words. “Ah, semantics! We are creating either way, Friend!” He flips the utensil in his hand in the air and catches it smoothly. “Now! First prompt! Draw me something that encompasses happiness.” 

What is this, philosophy? You hum thoughtfully, then use the pen tool to draw the first thing that comes to your mind: a smiley face. It is, admittedly, not your best one with how shaky your mouse is, but it gets your intentions across, you think. 

Sun makes a sound like he’s clicking his tongue against his teeth—which is a bit of an eyebrow raiser given that he likely has no tongue nor teeth, but who are you to question his… features? “Is that all you’ve got, Friend?” he asks incredulously as his head tilts down to indicate he’s looking at your rather meager drawing. 

‘what?’ you type, minutely offended. Is he judging you right now? He is totally judging you right now. ‘it satisfies your prompt, doesn’t it?’ 

“That is not the point!” he squawks out, and you wince at the shooting pitch of his voice. You nudge your volume down a little. “We are making art! Put a little oomf into it! A little personality! Show me your skills, Friend, and do not hold back!” 

You roll your eyes up to your ceiling. So dramatic, but fine, you’ll adhere. You fiddle around with the drawing tool a little, then start drawing around your smiley face. A circle for a head, maybe some sunglasses. A rainbow that you spend way too long on, trying to make the arch of each color even. Some sparkles. A cat playing a saxophone—or your best attempt at one, at least. You’re kind of throwing things together at this point and hoping it’s enough to satisfy Sun—who’s starting to look more and more impatient the longer you take.

Finally, you finish. ‘okay, how about this?’ 

Sun claps his hands together and hops off the top of the window so he can stand before it properly and look at it like he’s a critic in an art museum. He ‘hms’ and ‘hahs’, tapping the bottom of his face with the paintbrush as he scrutinizes your drawing, looking at it every which way. 

“Better, certainly better,” he muses and walks over to the other side of the window. “I can appreciate an effort when I see it.” You make a face at his words. Ouch? He spins back around to face you and gives you a thumbs up, eyes crinkling to crescents. “Wonderful job! A piece befitting a pin up to the refrigerator, I’m sure. On to the next prompt!” He snaps his fingers together, and the Paint application’s canvas clears. What? “Draw me something that encompasses sadness!” 

You know now to be more detailed, at least. You doodle a sad face this time, accompanied by a variety of things you pull out from the top of your head. Sun criticizes your work when you finish, giving it that same appraisal as before. You feel like you’re in some sort of competition. 

“Hm”—he eyes the rainclouds you’d drawn at the top of the canvas—“rather basic depictions, I’m afraid. Friend, have you tried varying the line weight of your pen tool? It might help!”

‘i’ll be sure to for the next one,’ you type in what you intend to be a dry manner, but you don’t think it translates all too well via text. As Sun grins approvingly at you, a sudden thought strikes you that you find yourself typing into that little window. ‘hey, why don’t u draw something since ur so… educated on it.’ Nitpicky, more like, but you don’t want to possibly offend him. ‘u seem like u’d enjoy it.’

“Me?” His eyes widen like he has not considered it. “You want…” His head cocks to the side. There is a moment where he just seems to look at you. Then, his eyes fall into a half-lidded, crinkled gaze that you have difficulty pinning alongside the stretching of his smile. 

Everything is suddenly—quiet. 

“You are,” he begins in a low voice that makes your eyebrows raise, “awfully strange, aren’t you, F-Friend?” A white facsimile of teeth flashes at you sharply that’s accompanied by a staticky glitch. “That’s okay! I like strange!”

And then—before you can truly decipher the depth to his smile or the offset pixels of the glitch—Sun beams at you, his rays spinning slightly. Like nothing had just happened. “I’ll make an artist out of you yet!” He claps his hands again, then wipes the canvas once more. He gestures to it. “Alright, for this next one, we are going to shift gears a little. Draw me a picture of your room!” 

That is… definitely going into the submission form, you think. You hesitate for a moment, eyeing Sun as he sways side to side, but he… seems to be back to normal. It passed quickly—whatever ‘it’ was. No need to linger. You hope. 

Your drawing is definitely a tad more rushed, but you think you do a pretty good job at capturing your room and its vibes—the decorations you have hung up, the comfy rug you impulse bought at a thrift store one day, and your bed swathed in your coziest blankets. You try varying your line weight, but you’re not sure how effective you are with it. Either way, Sun seems pleased with your attempts and praises one or two little details he notices, before he wipes the window clean. 

“For the last drawing,” he says as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “I want you to draw a self portrait!” 

You make a face. Drawing inanimate objects is one thing, but an actual portrait? ‘i dunno if i’m skilled enough to draw a good one.’ 

He waves a hand as though to brush off your words. “Nonsense! Give it your best shot. I would love to see how you view yourself!” He smiles up at you. “Show me what makes you you!”

You chew at your bottom lip and adjust your headphones as you ponder. What makes you you, huh? Should be simple enough, right? 

And yet it takes you the longest of them all to draw a self portrait that satisfies you. Sun’s practically vibrating in place as he waits, humming a dainty little tune under his artificial breath that you do not recognize. You finish up with the design of your trusty set of headphones and do a final once over before you tell him you’re done.

“Took you long enough, Friend!” He huffs as he slips over to the Paint window to begin his analysis. He nods his head during his observations, humming in a low manner. “Interesting! Very interesting.” He skips over to the other side of the window to get a different perspective. “Wonderful use of the dotted line tool here! Oh yes, yes, yes! This truly makes me miss Arts ‘n Crafts so dearly.” Sun sighs—forlorn, almost—and presses on before you can really say anything. “I’d say with some more practice you’d be deserving of being hung up on the Wall of Creativity! As they say: Practice makes better!” 

‘thanks?’ You’re not sure you particularly like these sort of backhanded compliments, but well, he’s not wrong, per se. You eye the wobbly lines made by your mouse. 

“No problem! The Wall of Creativity is the most highest of honors, you see.” Sun twirls the paintbrush in one hand and snaps two fingers of his other to clear the canvas for the last time. He points the bristle end of the brush in your general direction. “Now, how about we play some games, hm?” 

You’re kept busy for a while, playing games to Sun’s whims—or at least, the ones you can do with just the Paint tool and two players. He reminds you to take a break at one point, so you stretch and grab some food—all the while summarizing in your head what to jot down in the submission form at the end of today’s session. When you return, it’s nearing seven o’clock, and you brace yourself for the appearance of the Moon. 

“Well, Friend, it appears our time together must come to an inevitable end,” Sun bemoans rather dramatically, resting his forearm across the top of his head like he’s about to faint Victorian-style. “Fret not, however!” He perks up and flashes you a grin. “For I will see you later!” 

‘okay, drama queen,’ you type with a silly smile splayed across your lips. Instead of being offended, he seems to fall deeper into the role. 

“Life is a stage,” he says gravely, “and I am but a simple actor upon it.” He sweeps into a low bow, then bounds back up to his feet with a flourish. His eyes widen suddenly—round like two large, white coins—and he gasps. He points at something over your shoulder. “Friend! What’s that behind you?!”

There is the smallest, smallest moment, where something in your stomach drops down to your feet. Your eyebrows raise and you turn around in your chair to look behind you. There is only the wide space of your living room, with your rumpled couch and inactive television. From here you can see the door to your bedroom is slightly ajar. You’re pretty sure you didn’t close it properly earlier. You blink confusedly at the normalcy of it all, then turn back around to ask Sun what the hell he’s talking about. 

Only you’re not looking at Sun. You’re looking at Moon. Ohhh. 

You were duped, like a fool.

Moon does not look pleased, standing next to the little window with your textbox. He scowls when you type your usual ‘hi moon’, and doesn’t bother to grace you with a reply this time. There’s something akin to frustration in his expression, but you cannot—for the life of you—decipher why. 

You try again. ‘you don’t look too happy.’

He shoots you what you can only describe as a glowering look from under the band of his nightcap. His hands twitch minutely at his sides. You can almost say he looks… preoccupied with something? You’re not sure what. You’re also not sure how long he’ll elect to stay. Yesterday, you had mere minutes. 

‘can u tell me a story?’ you try, only to deflate when his scowl deepens. ‘oh come on, i’m trying here!’

“Don’t bother,” he eventually grumbles out, the twitching evolving into short flexes of his fingers—clawed like he’s trying to grasp something just out of reach. 

It’s your turn to frown, but you don’t push it. ‘sun told me ur better at storytelling.’

His head jerks slightly to the side in a way that’s unnatural—rotating like a vinyl record. His gaze narrows. “He did, did he?” It’s said in a growl, displeasure lining his voice. 

‘yep.’ You hesitate for a second, juggling your options and his irateness in your mind. ‘so… story? please?’

Moon snaps. “Fine! You want a story so badly, I’ll give you one. Listen very closely.” The little window you use to communicate with them closes out. Your eyebrows raise, but you are immediately captured by the low drone of Moon’s voice and the daggered look he somehow manages to give you even through your computer screen.

“Once upon a time,” he begins bitterly, “there was a fox. It lived with another fox friend in a peaceful valley. It was happy, living day by day with those around it. The two had each other and that was enough.

“But one day, the valley shook and trembled with the force of a mudslide. The fox was separated from its friend and injured by a fallen branch that manifested itself in the form of a perpetual limp. It tried, desperately, to find its friend, but it was no use. The friend was gone. It had to move on. 

“The fox traveled for days. It was slow, but it made progress. And eventually, it found itself in a field surrounded by tall, waving grass and giant deciduous trees. It made this field its new home. 

“For a while, things were good. The fox made some new friends. But there was still that ache of loss. The fox wondered if its old friend was still maybe out there, somewhere. It wished on the stars and hoped its friend would find it, in this new home. Someday. Somehow.

“Its wishes were granted. One day, the fox woke up to a familiar sound. The sound belonged to its old friend—that had found it after so long. The fox was happy and bound forth to greet its old friend. But there was something different about the friend that the fox could not place. It did not matter, however, for they were reunited at last. 

“The days went on. The fox had noticed that its friend was not the same as before, but the same could be said about itself. They tried their best to live together once more. It was difficult. There were ups and downs. Fights and quarrels. The friend was controlling and the fox did not like this. They were not as close as they were before and this distance lingered over them like a storm.” 

Moon breaks off for a short moment to glare down at his slippered feet. You are stuck in a trance, breathing bated as you hang on to his every word like they’re a lifeline. He shakes his head slightly, then continues on.

“The seasons cycled by. The auburn vegetation of Fall transformed into the desolate white of Winter, then to the lush verdance of Spring. Before finally, it settled on the yellowed brittleness of Summer. It was a particularly cruel Summer, but the fox and its friend did what they needed to survive while avoiding each other.

“And then… on a particularly arid day… A fire broke out in the field. It spread rapidly. It had not rained in days, and this caused the vegetation to burst into flames faster than the fox and its friend could react. It surrounded both of them. They were trapped. Together, yes, but still trapped. They couldn’t even reconcile in their final moments.” 

Moon looks up at you, his eyes reminiscent of a tenebrous sky pulling you in deeper and deeper and deeper. 

“Do you know,” he whispers with all the gravitas and conquassation of an earthquake barely repressed, “what it feels like to b u r n?”

And then the program closes. 

You are left to stare at your empty desktop, throat lined with cotton and heart racing like it’d been you trapped in that fire.

There is much to dissect, but you haven’t got an inkling of where to even begin. You fall into an uneasy slumber throughout the night and wake up feeling just as clueless. Moon’s expression and voice lingers over your shoulder like a spiteful ghost and you’re left to wonder how a computer program can have such a depth to it. You don’t want to contemplate it, fearing the exacerbation of this… sinking feeling in your stomach. So you don’t. 

A bug, you tell yourself as you shuffle through your daily tasks. Maybe a feature FazCo’s still trying to iron out. 

(You don’t mention anything else other than a ‘weird story’ and more glitching in the nightly submission form. You’re not sure how to even describe what you’d listened through.)

You eye your dormant computer while you prepare a light lunch in the form of a sandwich, your television playing the news in the background. Nothing too major, just the weather at the moment. It’s a good way to fill the room with some noise when you feel like catching up with what’s going on in the world around you. 

You exhale heavily through your nose and set down a dirty knife into the sink to clean later. Something bumps into your ankle, and you glance down to see Dr. Nugget bumbling away from you into the living room, whirring all the while. Those sensors definitely don’t work as they should, poor thing.

No matter how much you want to delay, you have some work you need to get done on your computer. Not only in terms of testing the FazPals program. Your timesheets need to be updated again (much easier to do on your computer than your phone, you admit). There are applications you have to submit to other companies to join their beta testing teams and research you have to do to ensure you don’t completely run out of work anytime soon. One of the more tedious attributes of being a beta tester is the constant cycle of looking and applying for positions. Oftentimes, companies will sign you on to test other products of theirs, though, so it’s not all that bad.

With that in mind, you plop down in front of your computer with your food and power it on. Your headphones go around your neck for the time being. Typing your password with one hand and taking a bite of your sandwich with the other, you get to work pulling up your spreadsheets and the website you use for job hunting. 

It’s menial work. You keep track of what companies you apply to with your spreadsheets. Most of them have the same application process and requirements. It’s easy to lose yourself in the repetitive clicking, reading, and typing. With the addition of your headphones blasting music in your ears, you go on autopilot pretty easily. 

It’s while you’re making updates to your resume that you get startled, suddenly, by Sun. 

“Friend! Hello!” He pops up out of nowhere and makes you promptly choke on the sip of water you’d been taking. Loud! You set aside your water bottle and cough roughly into your fist, eyes tearing up from the abruptness of it all. Your heart gives a harsh, indignant ba-dump. Oww.

Once you’ve collected yourself and paused your music, you take a moment to stare confusedly at Sun, swaying happily side to side in front of the window of your resume. He smiles up at you. How the hell—? You hadn’t clicked on the FazPals icon, had you? No, no, you’re sure you didn’t. 

‘hi sun,’ you type slowly into the small window he had automatically opened for you when he appeared. You pause as his smile turns into a beam, then decide to ask him your burning question. ‘how r u active right now??’ 

“I got tired of waiting for you!” he replies, his rays bobbing in and out in a wave around his head. You wait to see if he’ll elaborate, but he doesn’t. Okay. Well. You make a note of that for later. 

Sun makes a show of turning around and looking at your resume window. He can’t… read the data on it, right? Wait, no, he probably can if he was able to do it with your computer’s Paint app. You bite the inside of your lip. You’re not sure how you feel about that, but well, it’s not like FazCo doesn’t already have your resume. Just in case, you switch tabs back to your spreadsheet. Better, if marginally.

Sun hums, then turns back to look at you with those blank eyes of his. “What’re you up to, Friend?”

‘just applying to some jobs,’ you reply unsurely. Is this weird? This is weird, isn’t it. Upon pressing enter, Sun moves to look at the little window thoughtfully. And perhaps, with some inkling of annoyance? It’s difficult to tell, but it’s the same look he will sometimes give his dialogue box. One of his hands raises to tap at the bottom of his face. Contemplative. He returns his gaze to you and tilts his head.

“Hey, Friend,” he starts, completely bypassing your previous response, “I have an idea.” 

You are wary, but you cannot deny the intrigue. ‘yes?’ 

His smile stretches at your encouragement. He clasps his hands together in front of him. “Just trust me!” 

You squint at him—his blithesome demeanor—but you aren’t able to reply. The textbox window closes, and a different one appears in the center of your screen: 

FazPals.exe is trying to access your microphone. Allow?

All your thoughts stutter to a complete stop. 

Processing text is one thing, but audio input? You suppose it’s not anything innovative in this day and age, but you hadn’t been expecting it particularly for a program like this. You know the animatronics back at the pizzaplex were pretty advanced with this sort of thing, so it’s not… too unusual for FazCo, right? It’s probably something you need to evaluate, you sigh internally. This is fine.

FazCo, you think to yourself wryly. Enough said.  

Apprehension still lining your movements, you click the ‘Allow’ button. The window disappears. Nothing really happens that you can see, but suddenly you are all too aware of the weight of your headphones sitting atop your head. You lick at your lips. 

Sun continues his swaying as he waits—expectant. “Friend?” There is a smidge of hope in his voice. 

“Yeah?” you respond, wincing at the crackle of your voice. That sip of water had really taken you out. You clear your throat. “Sorry. Yes?” 

The beam he gives you is enough to vye against the, well, sun. 

“Oh! Marvelous!” He practically leaps for joy, rays spinning up a storm as he wiggles in place. His eyes upturn into delighted crescents. “Simply marvelous! Friend, it is lovely to hear your voice! It has been so long since I’ve heard another.” Something creeps into his gaze that you… You’re not entirely sure you want to decipher it. 

“Friend,” Sun begins in a low, nonchalant voice. “I have a request! A simple one, really.” 

You raise an eyebrow. You are undoubtedly curious. “What is it?” 

“Can you say my name for me?” 

Oh. Weird, but okay. You comply, voice lifting at the end slightly. You are not nervous right now, thank you very much. “Sun.” 

A glitch rides down the length of his body in a jittering wave—starting from the tips of his rays to the soles of his shoes. His gaze falls into a half-lidded look. “Perfect,” he breathes, so quiet you almost need to strain your ears to hear. “Utterly perfect.” 

You blink at him, befuddled. The moment does not linger. He snaps back to his regular sway and bright-eyed expression. “So! You said you’re applying to jobs? What for?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you say, slightly distracted and disoriented by the whiplash from this guy. Program. Whatever. Your fingers had automatically moved to type your reply in, lingering over your keyboard. This will take some getting used to. You move your hands to rest awkwardly on your lap so you can fiddle with your fingers. “I’m a beta tester so I’ve gotta keep applying for positions in companies.” 

“Beta tester, huh?” Sun muses more to himself than anything. He seems to be deliberating something. “Hm. I see. For how long?” 

You make a thoughtful sound. “Mm, for a while now. I can’t remember the exact timeframe. It’s enough to pay the bills, so I can’t complain.” You are ever so thankful that the ease in interacting with him transferred so neatly from texting to talking.

“Of course, of course!” Sun bows, then slides off to the right of your screen to nestle himself in the corner with the date and time. He tucks his hands behind his back. “Well! Don’t let me distract you! Carry on!” 

“Right…” you trail off, uncertain. You eye him standing just out of the way of your work—enough that you can ignore him if you zone in on what’s directly in front of you. Well, FazCo did say their program is a “virtual desktop friend.” Hanging around your screen when you’re not immediately engaging with it seems like an attribute it should be able to do. You shrug to yourself and go back to editing your resume. 

…It’s very quiet. 

Oh wait, music! You forgot to start it up again. You mess around with the volume mixer on your computer so you can continue to play your music whilst also being able to properly hear Sun should he decide to start talking. That is, without bursting your eardrums. You lose yourself to the tunes, accompanied on occasion by the rhythmic tapping of your keyboard. 

At one point you notice Sun changes the pacing of his swaying. And upon closer look, you realize he’s moving to the beat of the song booming through your headphones. His rays move like a volume meter, raising and lowering around his head in a circular formation depending on the strength of the audio.

“I like this song!” he says like he can sense your eyes on his pixelated form. “Never heard something like this before!” 

“Really?” You adjust the volume mixer a little. Better. 

“Yep! My music repertoire is rather lacking, I’m afraid.” 

“You’re in luck, then,” you say eagerly as you pull up your music player and shuffle through a playlist you think he might like. “This is what I call The Greatest Hits of All Time.” You press play and grin when Sun does a little wiggle in excitement. 

He’s content to sway in time with whichever song’s playing as you slowly finish up with your work for the day. You’re a bit surprised at how long he goes without really saying anything. But, of course, he eventually gets bored. Patience, you think, is not one of his core features. Or, well, he is patient to an extent. Something tells you he was not programmed to stay quiet for long periods of time.

In the corner of your eye, you notice he starts juggling. It’s small, at first. Just two red balls that he throws up and down and up and down, shuffling them to opposite hands all the while. Then it becomes three balls. Then four. Your gaze flicks to him from time to time, but you’re determined to get through just a couple more applications and then your timesheets before you call it quits. 

You break when he hits eleven balls, his grin curling enticingly at the edges concomitantly. “Bored, are you?” 

“Oh, immensely!” He throws up his hands in feigned distress and the plethora of balls come raining down upon him in a move befitting of a cartoon. They bonk him repeatedly on the head and bounce away on the top of your taskbar. You watch in amusement as one rolls across your screen and disappears past the left border. Sun is unperturbed. “Are ya done yet?” 

“Not quite,” you say and he groans, tossing his head back. You roll your eyes in good nature. 

“You can multitask, can’t you?” he presses, clasping his hands together in a plea. “Let’s chat!” 

“Okay, okay,” you acquiesce. You’re sure he would keep pestering you otherwise. He cheers and immediately hops right into it. 

“What do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite food? Do you have any other friends? What about your family? Do you like g-glitter glue? What’s the highest education level you have? Do you have a favorite piece of media? What’s your deepest, darkest secret? What’s your opinion on Fizzy Faz? What’s your favorite animal—”

“Whoa, Sun! Slow down!” you yelp, mind spinning with all the rapidfire questions. The text in his dialogue box had been moving so quickly you hadn’t been able to make out a single word. 

“Sorry!” he says, though he doesn’t quite sound all too apologetic. His eyes upturn. “I want to know aaalllll about you! How else will we be best friends?”

“By taking it easy,” you reply in what you hope is a meaningful manner. He at least has the decency to look abashed. You huff out a laugh, then do your best to remember what questions he’d asked. You’re already blanking on some. “Okay, well, uhh. I like to read and watch videos. I do have other friends and family, but I don’t live with them. Glitter glue is okay when it’s not literally everywhere. I don’t have any deepest, darkest secrets, sorry. Uhh—”

“Don’t forget about your favorite food!” Sun cuts across you, trying to be helpful, most likely. “And education level! And your favorite media!” 

“Right, right…” 

You’re not sure how long you spend answering his many, many questions (of which you’re sure he has an infinite amount), but it feels like ages. You have been thoroughly distracted, and you can’t even be incensed about it. 

As the evening settles in with a hush and it gets closer and closer to seven o’clock, you find yourself thinking about Moon. 

“Do you know what it feels like to b u r n?”

You suppress a shiver. 

You take a moment to deliberate in your mind, then eye Sun. He’s busy prattling off his excitement over wanting to watch a movie with you. Gently, you interrupt him. “Hey, is it cool if I ask you a question?” 

“Oh!” Sun looks at you wide-eyed, momentarily taken aback before he smiles encouragingly. “Of course, Friend! Ask away!” 

“What’s the deal with Moon?” 

If you hadn’t been already watching him, you wouldn’t have noticed. He freezes in place for a split second, then resumes his swaying so suddenly it’s almost like he’d forced himself to. Ever so minutely, the corner of his smile twitches. “Why ever would you ask me?”

“Well…” Your fingers tap idly along the surface of your desk. Shouldn’t he know since they’re part of the same software? You resist questioning him further. “He doesn’t seem like he wants to engage with me.” 

Sun waves a hand in dismissal. “Ah! He’s being dramatic, probably! Moon is… Well! I will say he is rather….” His grin turns taut, like a wire about to snap. “...Difficult to get along with.” That tautness disappears with a bob of his rays, as though it had never been there in the first place. “Worry not, Friend! You still have little old me to talk to!” 

“Yeah…” You’re confused. You thought dual programming with personalities such as Sun and Moon would make them mesh together pretty well. It’s difficult to tell with Sun. He’d made it seem like they both were on decent terms with previous transitions. You suppose not. Is it even possible for their A.I.s to interact with one another? You’re not sure how it works.

“Speaking of which,” Sun says as he makes a show of looking down at an invisible watch on his wrist. “It is time for me to go!” He sighs, faux sadness making him droop down like he’s a melting popsicle. “And after we’ve been having such a good time together.” 

“Mmhm,” you agree, something akin to nerves crawling just under your skin with every second that ticks by. Why are you nervous? “I’ll see you tomorrow, buddy.” 

He grins at you, flicking a hand in farewell. “I bid you”—a dark hole appears near his feet, and you watch as he steps over it with a wink—“adieeuuuuuuu!” He disappears, dropping into the hole with his voice getting fainter and fainter until it’s cut off by the hole popping to a close. Silly. 

You let out a breath and look at the time. 7:00 P.M. Right on the dot. You shift in your seat and wait for Moon. You’re not sure what crawled up his digital ass and died, but you’re determined to at least get him to have a proper conversation with you. Not only for your job, you think, as you navigate to your email to open the submission form, but for camaraderie’s sake, as well. 

“Camaraderie” with a program, you think to yourself dryly. What a world we live in.

7:03 P.M. and still no sign of Moon. This is fine. You can wait. You try not to waver.

…You call it quits when he doesn’t appear after another ten minutes. Disappointing, yet unsurprising. You should have expected it, really. You sigh and take off your headphones, leaning back in your chair. You rub at the side of your head. Your television drones on in the background with the news, still on after all this time. 

Honestly, how are you supposed to evaluate him when he shows up and disappears in unpredictable intervals? It’s a conundrum, truly. Does that not go against his entire code? His purpose? You don’t know anymore. You roll your shoulders and decide to finish up your work from earlier.  

Tomorrow, you think resolutely. Tomorrow you’ll try again.

part three

#dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #sun x reader #fnaf sun x reader #sun x you #sun x self insert #sun x y/n #moon x y/n #moon x self insert #moon x reader #dca x you #dca x self insert #dca x y/n #fnaf dca x reader #sundrop x reader #sundrop x you #sundrop x y/n #moondrop x self insert #moondrop x you #moondrop x y/n #moondrop x reader #shay scribbles daydreams #fazpals au

[valiira]

♡:･ﾟ✧: Mornin' Love

prompt; john price helps you out in the garden and gets stung by a pesky wasp ♡

tags; john price x reader, sfw, anon request, soft price, lil short & a lil sweet.

— You were thankful for Price, especially when he was home from work. Even if the two of you never really had a lot of time to spend together, due to said work, you enjoyed every moment you could. This morning he woke you to a nice cup of coffee and some wildflowers he had picked just outside the fence on your shared farm. Of course you two would rather stay in bed the entire day, sadly the garden needed tending today.

So begrudgingly, you two got up to begin the task. The garden was slowly becoming more like a hot spot for weeds than that of a pretty field. And of course, Price just had to make a comment on it.

"I've only been gone a few months love," He starts to say, gesturing to the obstacle before you two. Smirk on his face as he slips on some gloves to help with pulling the weeds out. "What'cha do while I was gone, huh?" The sarcasm very apparent in his gruff voice.

You rolled your eyes, lovingly of course, and shrugged. "I don't know John, count our savin's?" You reply jokingly as you put your own gloves on.

The two of you began your work of removing some of the more stubborn weeds. Things went smoothly for awhile, snarky comment here and there, but suddenly Price was muttering in discomfort. Come to find out, the big oaf was stung by a wasp. You chuckle at the thought of this man getting stung by something as small as a wasp. Even though, wasp's kinda sucked.

"That's what you get for all that sarcasm," You say, making your way to his side. Gently grabbing his arm and turning it ever so slightly to view the sting. It was of course just a little swollen and a lot of red but no stinger in site, which was the most concerning thing at the moment. "C'mon baby, let's go get some ice for that swelling." You kindly speak, leading John by the arm back to the house.

Of course, he replies simply in a grumble. Managing a shake of his head at his predicament. The military man had been through hell and back but it was certainly a wasp that was making him feel the worst.

Once back inside, you adoringly take care of John. Making sure to dress the wound and put it on ice. Listening to him gripe about being taken care of , but you truly wouldn't have it any other way. The morning coffee, the sarcasm, the loving caress, the complaining old man, you wouldn't trade it for the world.

#vivi writes ♡ #anon answered #anon ask #anon request #for that one anon! #john price #call of duty #cod mw2 #x reader #writing #captain john price #captain price #i love this man so much #cod mwii fanfic #fanfic #s//f//w #a cutie patootie #it turned out a lil longer but i hope you enjoy! #john price x reader #captain price x reader

[everybodyshusband]

we're back to your (ir)regularly scheduled happy regressed ghouls !!!

approx. 700 words of regressed aeon and caregiver zephyr under the cut, with they/them pronouns used for zephyr, and it/its used for aeon <3

“Are you comfortable, my little epoch?” The air ghoul’s voice rumbles in the quiet library. The only other sound to be heard is the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the broken, contented purrs of the little ghoul in their lap.

Aeon nods and buries its face even deeper into Zephyr’s chest, curled up in the air ghoul’s lap in a ball so tight that it’s a wonder its limbs haven’t begun to cramp up yet. It paws at Zephyr’s thigh as well as it is able to through the thick blanket covering them both and looks up at them with wide eyes. Its hand is barely able to reach the book resting there thanks to its strange position.

Zephyr smiles down at Aeon, loosening their hold around it to bring a finger up and boop its nose, making it giggle and purr even more loudly. “Is it story-time, small one? Would you wish for me to read aloud?”

Their questioning is met with a soft “Uh huh…” from the quintessence ghoul in their lap, and Zephyr can’t help but allow a purr of their own to kick up in their throat.

“You know,” they begin, picking up the book and rearranging Aeon in their lap as they do so, “this is not typically my favoured reading material.”

It’s true. At this time of year it’s more often than not that the old air ghoul can be found in the armchair with a book in front of the library’s warmest fire, doing their best to let the heat seep into their cold-stiffened and aching joints. Although, they tend to favour a lengthy Jane Austen, or perhaps an old, untranslated version of the Bible—the Christian one that is; the absurdity of the whole thing never fails to make them chuckle—over anything else, the colourful picture story book that was pushed into their claws by the eager, slightly sticky hands of the quintessence ghoul in their lap is most certainly outside of their regular sphere of interest. Alas, they couldn’t say no to it if they tried.

“Jus’ read da sdory, Dada.” By the sound of its voice, Zephyr can tell that Aeon won’t be awake for much of the sdory they’re about to read to it, but they sigh quietly and deign to prop the book up on their lap in such a way that if the little ghoul turns its head, it should be able to look at the pictures while Zephyr reads aloud.

Before they begin though, there’s one point they’d like to raise with the sleepy creature on their lap. “I didn’t know I was your Dada, epoch,” they muse, smiling down at Aeon gently.

It hums softly, rubbing its cheek against the fabric of Zephyr’s tunic, its purring kicking up a notch in volume as it does. “An’ my Mama.”

Sathanas. Zephyr doesn’t think they’re going to be able to handle much more of the adorable pile of ghoul in their lap without becoming uncharacteristically emotional. “And your Mama?”

“Mhmm.” It nods its head sleepily. “You gedda be bofe.”

“I get to be both? I must be very lucky.” The only response Zephyr gets from Aeon is another little nod of its head and a loose gesture towards the book. They chuckle softly. “Alright, my epoch. You want your story-time, I understand. Are you comfortable enough for your Dada-Mama to begin reading it for you?”

Another nod—and a small giggle at the phrase Dada-Mama.

“Perfect.” Zephyr readjusts Aeon’s position in their lap once again, holding the little ghoul close to them in a way that allows them to hold the book up with one hand and card gentle fingers through its hair with the other. It seems as if Aeon is content enough to leave its face under the blanket and buried in Zephyr’s chest rather than look at the pictures in the book, and when Zephyr looks down they can see it chewing on a fold in the fabric of their tunic, its loud and broken purring having never once ceased throughout the whole ordeal.

The air ghoul presses a chaste kiss to Aeon’s head, ensuring their own purr is audible to its blanket-enveloped ears, and begins to read.

#aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #zephyr ghoul #regressed ghouls #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #husband ficlets

[healerelowen]

Hello hello! Back again with some stuff!

You have no idea just how long I was waiting for someone to ask me this. But for some reason I can't find the ask in my inbox. I don't think I deleted it, so I'm not sure where it could've gone.

But anyways, this was requested from someone so whoever requested hi hello here's the stuff you asked me for :)

I hope you enjoy and have a good rest of your day/night!

-Scrybes with a reader who’s getting gray hairs-

—

Leshy

Leshy is able to pick up that you're growing in gray hairs fairly quickly. He’s quite observant and tends to notice a lot of things about people that others would usually miss. 

With that said, this results in Leshy just..staring at you..trying to pinpoint which area is becoming more gray than the other. Not in a weird way, of course, he’s merely watching your telltale sign of aging growing more and more as time goes on. 

He doesn’t necessarily make comments on it, he does point it out the first time he notices though. Whether or not you noticed before he did depends, but otherwise he doesn’t say anything about it. Why make such a fuss over something that is simply a sign of aging? 

If you were to be a bit self conscious about your gray hairs, then Leshy is certainly quick to reassure you. Simply telling you that there is nothing for you to worry about, and that the process was only natural in all life. Even wolves get gray around their muzzles at some point, so you are no different. He will try as best as he possibly can in his own Leshy way to help you feel better, either by incorporating your aging state into his game in a more euphoric way or perhaps showing you an elder beast or two to show you that there’s nothing outlandish about your predicament. 

This does not stop him from treating you the same as ever, a small quip here and there but little else. You’re simply growing with time, just as much as any life that graces the Earth. But at the end of the day, he still sees his precious challenger just as much as when you first met. 

Grimora   

Grimora is another that’s quick to catch on that you’re growing in gray hairs. In fact, she’s rather elated at the news! It only brings her great joy that you are showing your age more prominently, though she won’t force you to enjoy it with her, but not without providing some insight to hopefully give some food for thought. 

She doesn’t point it out immediately after she notices for the first time, only if you don’t after some time passes. A simple, “Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately, dear?” is probably what she would say in regards to pointing it out, but definitely in a more polite sense than if you took it out of context. Like Leshy, she doesn’t make a huge deal about it. Sure, she’s glad to see it, but she won’t push her limits especially if you’re uncomfortable.

Speaking of which, if you were feeling self conscious about it, Grimora is also quick to help regenerate your mood, although likely not as immediate as Leshy. To help you feel better, she would likely give you reassuring words and general comfort. Perhaps she would even guide you to her special mirror and point out just how lovely you look with gray hairs, explaining that whatever effects of aging show on your body, don’t affect just how much she loves and cares about you. She would also ask a few of her ghouls who definitely would have had such gray hairs about it and gain some reassurance from an outside party to further prove her point. 

Grimora loves the slight situation that you have, seeing it as nothing more but a shining example of just how resilient you’ve been throughout the years to get to this point in your life. 

P03   

“Haha old.”

P03 would undoubtedly say that the minute he notices. Of course, he doesn’t exactly mean to be rude entirely, but it definitely is to tease you at least a little bit. If that wasn’t enough, he makes sure to comment on it almost every single day afterwards. It only upticks the teasing and banter that was already being tossed around preemptively. Unless of course you say otherwise, in which case he will respect that with a slight huff. 

He certainly comments on it the most out of the four by a long shot. In fact, most of the insult humor is based around you and becoming older with gray hairs. He just will hardly ever stop running its voice box about it until the day it rusts over.

 On that note, he can’t help but feel at least a little anxious. As he knows that you’re only inching closer and closer towards death and that your discoloring hair is only a sign that your time is just barely starting to wrap up. But like hell he would actually admit that to anyone, no matter their relationship with it, they’re not getting a single word out of it. 

If you’re feeling self conscious about your gradual change in appearance, there’s not much that P03 can provide. But what he can do is give you someone to lean on and talk to, in which case it can provide a bit more verbal comfort and show that softer side of him that it otherwise would keep hidden away. He can’t exactly compare and show you that aging like this is normal via real demonstrations, but the words of reassurance definitely help make up for that.

P03 honestly, truly, doesn’t care about the fact that your hair is growing gray, it just loves to be a bitch about it and tease you nonstop or whenever it gets the chance given the circumstance. 

Magnificus

Magnificus doesn’t really notice a whole bunch, but that might be because he already saw it beforehand. He points it out if you don’t but in a more subtle comment that could be compliments if you look at it a certain way. Something along the lines of, “A new splash of color, dear?” 

Compliments it a lot. Doesn’t let you feel self conscious about it. Well, not entirely, he’ll let you feel what you want to feel, but definitely doesn’t let emotions weighing you down based on appearance alter your perception of yourself. 

Though like P03 he does get highly anxious about your aging. He knows that one day you’ll go, it’s going to happen, even if he hasn’t had a vision about it yet, and he dreads the day it will happen. He loves and cares about his darling too much to just let them go on such short notice, even if a few strands of gray hair are only the very brinks of the beginning of that process. It could be like a few streaks and he’d still be a nervous wreck. You might have to help him through it from time to time depending on how bad it is. 

If you were more strongly feeling self conscious about your gray hairs, he will first try and over some encouraging words. “I don’t see anything even remotely wrong, my dear, I only see a few new strokes of unique coloring on something that will always be gorgeous.” Is something that he would likely say. If that doesn’t work, then he resorts to actively doing something with you to show you that there really isn’t anything wrong with your appearance. If that doesn’t work, then he takes you to his students to get their thoughts. And if even that doesn’t work, then he’s down to his last resort; Magnificus is going to take you by the hand all the way to Grimora’s just for her to prove his point.

Magnificus will go to extensive lengths for you, more than he has ever done with anyone, ever. That’s just because he loves you so much, and doesn’t want you to lose sight of who you always were, youthful or aging.

#inscryption #inscryption leshy #inscryption grimora #inscryption p03 #inscryption magnificus #leshy x reader #grimora x reader #p03 x reader #magnificus x reader #inscryption x reader #healer elowen #asks

[cowboyjen68]

Heya Jen,

So I feel like if I were a dude, people wouldn't look down on my clothing choices so much. Maybe it's just because people tend to, quite frankly, give less of a shit about what men wear and how they look in general while, and by contrast, focus a lot on a womans appearance.

I'm not quite butch in my own opinion, but I do tend to wear a lot of men's clothes, and even the women's clothes I wear tend to be quite practical. I like having my own sense of style. I like what I wear, but it doesn't seem to matter to other people, I guess it just seems like I throw on any old clothes to them.

I definitely tend to get this attitude more from women and, more specifically, my aunt. She's told me that I look like I've walked right off of a farm before, and while if anything I took it as a compliment, she certainly didn't mean it that way. In the past, her comments were more harsh, so it's an improvement. At least now it's not outright homophobic, i.e """asking""" me if I want to look like a lesbian or a boy in a rather condescending tone. It's more so a "THAT'S what you're wearing?" Thing. I even get the impression my queer friends just think I don't care about my clothes at all, and while I'm no fashionista, I do like putting together what I consider nice outfits.

Also, admittedly, like most people I do some days, just throw on clean clothes, I just don't see why, regardless of how I dress, it seems more worthy of comment and criticism. I don't see men's outfits commented on or criticized half as much, if at all, and we basically wear the same things.

This is just a very long-winded way of asking if you've gotten this sort of attitude too and how you deal with it? It's not like when I was younger and pushed me to try and wear more feminine clothes, though it still irritates me though I wish it didn't.

Thanks in advance for reading this whole long thing and being an open and out older lesbian who is willing to take time out of her busy day to answer so many questions from young lesbians and queer people alike.

I was never very well tapped into the fashion of the day. In my younger years I would put on what I wanted with no regards to what others might find proper. My mom gave up after on getting me to wear matching dresses and shoes or shirt and shorts outfits. Dad was fine when I came out of my Raggedy Ann themed bedroom in red cowboy boots, jean shorts and an orange shirt (with the bottom cut off) that said "10-4 Good Buddy".

In high school the one think my mom would not let me have was a three quarter length sleeved white shirt with a rainbow. She said I would get it too dirty and my shoulders were too wide for the fit. (she was not wrong in either case). So I tended to go with sweatshirts, t shirts and jeans. I was HORRIBLE at trendy clothing because I mixed and match too many things that just did not go together. I wanted overalls but knew that they were too "manly" for me, a girl. I went to the mall and spent my hard earned money on the closest girl thing, a peach colored pair of overalls for girls that were also kind of pedal pushers. It was NOT a good look.

Whenever I tried to be trendy I would bed it to be more what I wanted but not committing to "boys" clothes and it always went sideways in the worst way.

College saw me stick with t shirt and jeans but it was the 80's and everyone wore just that. Finally, a time in fashion where fashion was the same for everyone. Utilitarian and simple, at least in small midwestern college towns.

My mom would say to my young self. "are you sure that is what you want to wear?" or "Do you want help picking out clothes?" In retrospect she was trying to save me from drawing attention or getting picked on but just eventually figured I would either learn or live with it.

I know exactly what you mean about people assuming that me wearing what I was comfortable in as an adult was me just tossing any old thing on. My first girlfriend helped me by expanding my confidence and wardrobe. Custom made suspenders, men's dress pants and white button down for men instead of women's clothing that sort of mimicked men's style. After we broke up (7 years later) I still struggled a bit but slowly learned that the important thing was I felt good in what I wore and not what others had to say about it.

Men get a pass because I think is it often assumed they just don't have the need or capacity to dress themselves beyond simple and what is on the floor. This is, of course, also an unfair stereotype. Many men lack the confidence to stop out of the easy and simple to try and dress better for public consumption so they get in a routine. AND women are assumed to always want to look good for others so when we don't fit the expectation of our culture we "just don't care".

NOW I rarely dress up because of my jobs. I wear "work clothes" most days because I know within an hour of getting dressed I will be dirty. But I am most confident and comfortable in my work clothes. When I do dress up to go out I finally am like my young self (wear what I want) with a little more awareness of what others see. I shop at estate sales and find vintage western style shirts and unique belt buckles to wear. I feel good, have my own style and i think others see my confidence because I am less concerned about what others think and just happy to be wearing what I love.

People start to see confidence over aesthetics as you become more comfortable in clothes you love.

Hope this help. You are not alone and i think many women (even some men) will understand this feeling you have.

#lesbian #masc #butch #clothing #aesthetic #fashion

[twistmusings]

hi!! your floyd and riddle fic from a while ago was so cute :)) the banter over the tart? floyd's patience and their knowledge of each other's quirks????? Uncle trey and azul? Lmfao YES PLEASE that's so sweet😭😭 any gen relationship headcannons for these two? maybe how they got together in the first place, or how the other boys of their dorm reacted? (lmaooo imagine that) Congrats on the move! :)

Thank you so much! I have a really soft spot for a lot of twst ships so it's always a pleasure when I get to indulge and write for them a little bit! And thank you so much for the well wishes about the move!!

Just as a note, this one got kind of long and is largely a breakdown of how the two of them ended up dating.

General Relationship Headcanons - Floyd and Riddle

CW: Canon x Canon shipping (obvs), enemies to lovers but also idiots to lovers (? Its complicated), learning to communicate and some very touch and go parts, Trey Clover's prolonged migraine, Azul and Jade's meddling.

As is mentioned in canon, Riddle and Floyd first met during their orientation. Floyd was kicking up a fuss and well... Riddle kicked his ass. There was no two ways about it, he threw Floyd around like he was a bag of grapes before collaring him and he was pretty thoroughly outmatched by his magic.

Riddle unknowingly created a torment of his own making that day. See, Floyd has always really admired strength and, fortunately or unfortunately, Floyd was fascinated by him. He was so small and regal looking that Floyd would have never guessed that he was capable of magic that strong. He wants to see more-- wants to learn what makes Riddle tick and how he got so strong.

That means, while Riddle sees Floyd's pestering in a negative light (which is 100% valid, Floyd is really irritating and intentionally pisses him off) Floyd never has. His teasing and rough play are pretty common types of affection under the sea. Floyd has been just as abrasive toward Azul and Jade in the past, they just know better than to rise to meet his energy.

However, Riddle's reactiveness... feeds into Floyd's bad behavior. He becomes Goldfishie entirely because when Floyd says it, Riddle gives him attention, even if it's negative attention. He doesn't really examine his own emotions beyond that, he just knows that he really likes when his Goldfishie friend pays attention to him.

Now, as for how they got together... it was a very complex sort of domino effect, and had things not fallen into place the way they did, Riddle likely wouldn't have ended up dating Floyd.

So, the first thing that really occurred was that Floyd developed a crush on Riddle..... that he wasn't aware about. Floyd has such a hard time untangling his own emotions that sometimes things slip under the radar. He's always been this way about crushes, and because of it, he tends to be the last person to notice it. Instead, usually the first person to catch on is Jade, and then shortly after him, Azul.

It doesn't take much for Jade to realize it-- he recognizes the signs as soon as Floyd starts going out of his way to seek out Riddle. That's always the first, then followed by him noticing Floyd talking about his admiration for Riddle unprompted shortly after. He didn't realize it was serious though, until Floyd would start to slip up and call him Riddle. Just Riddle. While it wasn't even significant enough for it to be something Riddle noticed, Jade caught it immediately. Fish pun names were common, but actually sticking it through to learn and use someone's given name was less so.

Jade picked up on it right around their sophomore year, and he would take a few occasions to get a temperature read on how Riddle was feeling about his brother. He certainly was probing when he asked Riddle if he actually missed being teased by Floyd.

Needless to say, Jade's impression of Riddle's feelings... aren't hopeful. He can tell that Riddle really, truly resents him for the teasing and how volatile his mood is. He doesn't believe he will be heard out if he's the one to bring it up to Riddle, either, as he knows Riddle already sees him in a similar light as he does Floyd so he defers to Azul and asks him to assist in the situation.

Azul asks for a private meeting with Riddle, and when Riddle arrives he really wastes no time in laying things out as they were from his perspective: Floyd had developed feelings for Riddle and despite how much of a pest he could be, Azul wanted to request that Riddle go easy on him when he let him down.

Riddle was baffled. He can already feel the heat rising to his face as he feels his anger starting to flare. How dare Azul ask to meet him privately for this foolishness! It was such a waste of time to play these silly little games, and Riddle suddenly felt stupid for assuming that Azul would know better than to play these kind of jokes simply on the merits of being another housewarden.

"Really, Azul, this isn't funny." His expression is sour, and he stands smoothing his uniform jacket. Azul's eyes widen a fraction as he looks at him, eyebrows giving away his surprise. "I had expected better of you. I'm sure you think this is hilarious, but I never would have thought that you would stoop so low as to make a joke that I could see Floyd pulling."

He turns on his heels, and only makes it so far as the door when he hears the scrambling of Azul behind him as he stands from his desk.

"Riddle, hold on. This isn't a joke." Riddle freezes, hand lingering on the doorknob. He wants to be angry at himself for thinking that Azul sounds genuine. This is surely an elaborate scheme of some kind, but in spite of himself he turns enough to level Azul with a glare.

Except Azul looks sincere. Perhaps even worried-- like he's the one who couldn't believe this was a joke. Was it a joke? Riddle's suddenly unsure-- Azul didn't usually get roped into helping Jade and Floyd in their impulsive ideas.

"I'm being serious. I'm fairly certain that Floyd... has feelings for you." Azul clears his throat, adjusting his glasses with a careful coolness that seems to be an attempt to cover his prior unveiled concern. "I know that he has been nothing but irritating to you, and that you don't owe him any kindness after the amount of pestering he's done... however, dorm leader to dorm leader, I would like to request that you don't reject him too... intensely."

There's something there-- Riddle can tell. A genuine concern of some kind, even if he can't quite see what exactly for. He gives Azul a skeptical look, knowing it was unlikely for him to play all of his cards at once, though. There has to be something else-- he knows Azul well enough to know that much.

"Forgive me if I'm having a hard time believing that Floyd has a crush on me, Azul." He deadpans, frowning.

Azul mirrors the frown, dragging a hand down his face.

"Perhaps... there's been a misunderstanding of sorts. I know Floyd, and I have known him for years. I realize how counterintuitive this sounds, but the name calling and the encouraging you to play tag with him by taking your things, that's... that's his love language."

"That's his what?"

"Floyd isn't great at understanding his own emotions, let alone anyone else's. I'm afraid if you don't make your intentions incredibly, forcefully clear for him it can sometimes go over his head. He likely thinks that you're just as excited to play along with his games as he is."

"So his idea of flirting with me is to tease me and consistently disrespect me?" Riddle's lips pull into a thin, irritated line. He's starting to tip back in the direction that this is some kind of long-winded, cruel prank.

"Teasing, yes, but I'm afraid I can't say I agree on the disrespect front."

"You're joking."

"I'm not. Floyd respects you highly, even if he's not very adept at showing it."

Riddle can't help but to scoff. Azul rolls his own eyes, holding up his hand and beginning to count.

"Let's see, he talks about how you 'picked the biggest magic textbook off the shelf with tons of hard words' to study and then took a few minutes to explain it to him, how you're 'super dedicated and responsible for your dorm leader stuff', how 'Goldfishie broke up a fight with ten people like it was nothing', how 'Goldfishie threw him around like he weighed nothing with his magic and he wants to learn that too', how you're 'the only one around here who isn't afraid to stand up' to him, how--"

As the list grows longer, Riddle can feel himself growing red again, though this time he's pretty sure it's not from anger. Somehow despite the fact that Azul is surely paraphrasing, it's very easy to hear Floyd's voice saying these things. Hell, Riddle had often been too annoyed to realize it at the time, but he had said a lot of similar things to him directly.

"I see." Is all that Riddle can manage to think up to respond with. "You've certainly given me plenty to think about. Now... if you'll excuse me."

Riddle opens the door and slips out, and Azul stands a little dumbfounded for a moment. What kind of response was that??

"Riddle?" Azul calls after him, following. However, he finds the hallway empty when he walks out. "Riddle!"

But Riddle has already gone, and Azul can only hope that he hadn't just accidentally endorsed Floyd's misery for however long it took him to overcome the hump of realizing his Goldfishie didn't like him in the same way that Floyd liked him.

Riddle spends a while flipping back and forth between whether he thinks that Azul must be using this as some sort of plot and whether he genuinely believes that Floyd has feelings for him. He's more inclined to believe that Floyd genuinely has feelings for him, but he can't be sure if that's just him wanting to give Azul the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn't toy with his own feelings. (He wouldn't, but this is not about that.)

It was... strained on Riddle's part. He is pretty emotionally constipated in his own right, and him reexamining and recontextualizing the past interactions he has had with Floyd through the realization that he was largely just trying to instigate play with him sort of changes his feelings toward them. Of course, he still really, really dislikes the teasing and intentional irritation, but, as he realizes, it might be partially his own fault. He realizes that while Floyd gets on his nerves, he has never continued to do something after Riddle outright asked him not to do it or was explicitly clear that he didn't want him to do it.

Eventually he realizes that what Azul said made an unfortunate amount of sense, and that perhaps his irritation with Floyd was a matter of learning how to communicate with him instead of the both of them just being incompatible as people.

Now a big key to how the next step played out was that Riddle was aware of Floyd's feelings, but Floyd had no idea of his own feelings. Of course he did have romantic feelings toward Riddle, but he never clocked that he was catching feelings.

The situation ended up being that Floyd was irritating Riddle, as he did often, but it went differently than it usually did. To start with, Riddle was the one who got physical with him first-- he used his magic to throw him once again. He had been pushed to his absolute limit and was finding it hard to sleep because the thought of Floyd having a crush on him had been eating him. It definitely doesn't help that Riddle's starting to notice his own signs of attraction. Floyd was a little shocked, because to him he hadn't done anything to warrant it and he wanted Riddle to apologize, but before he could even open his mouth to say as such, Riddle was already starting to talk right over him.

"You are insufferable." Riddle says it, and it makes something in Floyd's chest tighten up when he does. His eyes widen a little, and he's starting to wonder what he did differently today to warrant that severe look in Riddle's eyes.

"Goldfishie?"

"Shut up and listen." Floyd would normally never let anyone talk to him like that, but something in Riddle's tone makes him actually shut his mouth. It feels serious. He watches, waiting for Riddle to continue. "I really hate it when you do this. Make me chase you around by stealing my things. And I hate it when you seek me out just to interrupt what I'm trying to do. I want you to knock it off."

There's no room for argument in his tone. So Floyd doesn't. Really, he wishes Riddle had said as much sooner, because this isn't something fresh and he can tell. And Riddle isn't even going red in the face-- this is a cold anger. Floyd has never seen anything like it and it's terrifying.

"Goldfishie...?" His voice is uncomfortably unsure.

"And stop calling me that. I hate that nickname." His tone is measured, and he steps forward, further into Floyd's space so that he has to look up at him. Floyd's stomach flips, and he doesn't know why. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." Floyd swallows around his heart in his throat. Riddle looks at him, and he realizes he's waiting on Floyd to speak his peace. He isn't sure what to say, so he settles on the words he first finds. "I didn't mean to make you actually mad, Riddle."

And something about Floyd saying his actual name makes Riddle snap. All of his composure is thrown right out of the window, and in spite of the anger and confusion he is feeling, he hauls Floyd up by the collar and kisses him soundly.

And Floyd is stunned. His thoughts become loud and chaotic in an instant-- Why was Riddle kissing him? Hadn't he just told him he hated everything he did? What had made him even think of kissing him? And why did it feel so good?

He doesn't have enough time to respond, body stiff and feeling heavy. He feels a bit like he's going to die with how much his chest feels like it wants to burst, and his stomach can't decide which way is up. And as if that all wasn't bad enough, Floyd can feel this strange hot, burning feeling in his face that's making his cheeks hurt. Riddle pulls back from the kiss, and it's all Floyd can do to just stare at him for several seconds.

And then instinct kicks in. Floyd's head is empty of thoughts as he scrambles to his feet, and he turns, and he flees. Eels are cowards, after all.

Riddle is pretty shocked at himself, too. He isn't sure what came over him-- he'd just felt kind of overwhelmed by the urge to just kiss him in the moment when to any reasonable person that should have been the last thing on his mind. Not to mention that it was a rather public venue where their little spat (?) had taken place, so the school was abuzz with the rumor within the hour.

"So... clearly you have feelings for him as well, then."

He's greeted by Trey a couple of hours later when he more-or-less breaks into his room with a "You did WHAT!?" It takes some explaining, but Trey gets a quick grasp on the situation and immediately lets out the biggest sigh and starts feeling a headache coming on.

"Huh?!" Riddle spits, flushing and looking a little offended. Trey does his best not to level him with his 'are you fucking serious' look, but he must not be entirely successful because Riddle seems to wince a little.

"Riddle, you kissed him. Even if it was on impulse you were having some kind of feelings."

"... I conceed that much."

"So, you probably still have some kind of feelings toward him. What are they?"

"... I feel like I shouldn't answer that on the grounds that you will ask me what's wrong with me, again."

Oh yeah, that headache was really coming on.

"First, I didn't ask what was wrong with you, I asked what you did. Second, I'm doing this to try and help you."

It takes a long conversation, but Riddle eventually lands on the fact that he does have some interest in Floyd. He suspects it might be romantic, but he can't put his finger on it, and doesn't think he would feasibly be able to unless he were to actually sit and be in Floyd's presence voluntarily for a while.

Jade and Azul assumed that Riddle had just rejected Floyd, and that's why he'd been in his room and moping for the last several hours. It takes Trey reaching out to them to talk about what happened for them to realize that it hadn't gone exactly how they had thought it had, and their response was more or less the same as Trey. "What did you DO!?"

Riddle learns from the two of them that Floyd likely needs the time to come to peace with his own feelings on his own time, and that he will need space to do that, so he stays back for the time being.

Meanwhile, Floyd is mulling over the entire scenario and doing his own consideration of their past conversations and realizing that yeah, he'd definitely kind of had a massive crush on Riddle without even knowing he had and that's why he'd gotten so flustered and unsettled when Riddle had kissed him out of nowhere. Well, that and because it had immediately been preceded by a verbal and physical lashing.

As much as I wish it was more interesting, the honest reaction of the people around them in both dorms was... shock. They would never have expected their typically antagonistic relationship to shake out like that, nor did they expect Floyd nor Riddle to be hit so hard by what happened. The only slightly interesting reaction would have been Ace who was likely prepared to tease the both of them until Trey made a few not-so-thinly veiled threats to his wellbeing if he did.

Riddle lets Floyd be the one to make the next move-- after all he'd kind of made a jackass out of himself by jerking Floyd in several different directions with that kiss. And eventually, Floyd does reach out again, though not in his typical fashion-- he sends a letter via Jade asking to meet.

It's definitely awkward when they meet up in person again, and Floyd seems very low and sober. Truthfully, he doesn't want to be having this conversation because he knows it's probably not going to end in a good way, but he also knows that he's probably going to just remain in his rut unless he does. Plus it was getting very annoying having Jade and Azul constantly on his back to do something.

They both end up apologizing to each other. Riddle for being so harsh and then just kissing him out of the blue, and Floyd for not keying into the fact that he was getting genuinely irritated with him. Floyd explains that he's really not good at picking up on subtle cues and he often needs to be told things directly or he will miss them entirely.

"One other thing..." Riddle huffs, glancing away from Floyd. "I suppose if you must, you may still call me goldfish. Just... try not to refer to me exclusively as that."

Floyd laughs-- not the normal bright, manic laughter Riddle usually hears from him. This is a more subdued contentment, and when he looks at him, Riddle notices the way that the corners of Floyd's eyes wrinkle a bit.

"Why did you change your mind on that?"

"Against my better judgements... it seems to me that it's a kind of endearment."

"Nah, I was definitely teasing you when I said it, but whatever you'd like, Goldfishie~." Floyd sing-songs.

Riddle feels stupid for it, considering what had ended them up in this situation in the first place, but he feels overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him again. He tamps it down rather aggressively, not wanting to damage whatever tentative thing they were working on here. Apparently he's not subtle enough, because in the instant he glances at Floyd's lips and back, the other is grinning toothily.

"You didn't learn your lesson the first time, did you?" Floyd challenges. Riddle can't quite place if it's intentional flirting or not-- feels like it must be.

"Perhaps you'll have to teach me again." The words leave Riddle's mouth before he can stop himself long enough to process what he's said. Then, rather flustered, he adds: "I've always found it most helpful to review the material a few times."

Floyd's eyebrows quirk upward toward his hairline, but he doesn't make to move at all. Ah, right, like they'd discussed-- he was trying to be better about their boundaries. Riddle sighed, despite this being something he specifically asked for.

"Floyd?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me, you oaf."

"Sure thing, Goldfishie~!"

#answered;; #twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #floyd leech #sfw #idiots to lovers (?) #cw: shipping #florid #floyd x riddle #mild angst

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 17}

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Bad luck seems to be attracted to you as your little trio travels West. Things seem to begin looking up despite the weather change in the ways of trees shedding their leaves and the air chilling.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: canon typical violence, fighting, survival skills, ptsd, mentions of injuries (brief), panic attack, depression, confessions, revealing past traumas, talk of past partners, animal violence, blood, gore, spiraling thoughts for both reader and joel, intense emotions of failure, memory issues, loss of short term memory, mentions of past pregnancy (brief), allusions to miscarriage (brief)

A/N: this dives a little into some hardships before it turns things around. please bear with me, the angst and tension will be high just as it progressed during the show. but i'm trying to sprinkle in some good things with the time skip between kansas city and jackson.

also!! this story has hit over 100k in words! i'm so so proud of myself for sticking with this despite the personal issues i've had and the way i've tended to push this to the back burner in order to pursue other, lighter fics. but i did it! and i hope ya'll like this new installment ♡ 

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

It was quiet as your trio made their way alongside a thick swath of buildings that made up what was once a town in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska. You were in a weird fog of instincts and antibiotics, your body on autopilot as it trudged on, a small figure in front of you and a large one in front of it. The sun was waning, dusk beginning to take over and shelter was needed.

“Are we gonna stop and check anything out?”

“Not today. Too quiet, haven’t seen so much as a bird within five miles.”

You remained quiet, your entire left arm aching in a way that only broken and growing bones could. It was torture, not having enough pain medication to take it regularly enough to stave off the feeling. The need to save it instilled deep into your psyche at this point. Save, hoard, hold, keep. For more serious things, for those you travelled with. For those you cared about.

“Don’t you want to stop? See if there’s anything we need or to sleep inside. It’s been forever.” Ellie turned around to face you, but her questioning halted as she took in the way you were barely picking up your feet, the slight sway to your head as you kept your eyes wandering to take in your surroundings. As she took in the blank look and the touch of suppressed pain behind your sharp eyes. She was whirling back around to face Joel’s back so fast that her hair swung and the sight of it made you a little dizzy and certainly a little nauseous.

“Joel.”

“No, Ellie, no quit askin’,” He turned his head to the side to aim a mild glare at her, not wanting to do this for the umpteenth time since leaving Kansas City. She had been quiet that first week, though she seemed to be coming back into herself more. “It’s dangerous here and the sooner you understand that, the sooner we can-“

His words trailed off as her own had done when he caught sight of you. The exhaustion clear even at a glance over his shoulder. You were up and walking, your eyes taking in the scene but there was the air of something that unnerved him surrounding you. You were sweating, the damp ring around the collar of your shirt a little too dark for the chill that permeated the days and even more so at night. Your skin looked sallow, almost waxy even from the distance he was at. He called your name and your eyes snapped to him, though he had a feeling it was more instinct that was driving you than actual awareness.

“You don’t-

“I know.”

“Maybe we should stop-“

“No, keep going.”

“You-“

“Keep. Going.” You frowned at him, the pull of your lips downward urging him to turn his head back around and focus on picking his way through the trees. “Get us away from the town, it’s obvious there’s people holed up somewhere around here. Seen traps strung up all around.”

“Next town.” Was all the man said as he continued on, pulling a map out from the inside pocket of his jacket. “It’s another twenty miles. We settle tomorrow. Take stock of things.”

“Go another hour and then we stop for the night.” You looked over your shoulder at the hush of something moving around in trees, moving around you. Your eyes landed on a wire, the leaves of a low hanging limb brushing against it in the slight breeze. “Fast.”

Joel picked up on the way your words had hardened, though had been spoken in a lower tone. He turned and his eyes followed to where yours were trained as you stayed right behind Ellie. The wire was easy to spot, to him at least and to you. It was a trip wire, low to the ground. His steps picked up and he kept an alert attention on the area in front of him, on the area he was leading you both through.

“Ellie, please be quiet until then.” You didn’t address her harshly or with any venom in your words. It was a whispered plea. She nodded, staying in her place between you and Joel as she continued to follow the man through the foliage.

No fire was lit that night.

Protein bars were scarfed down despite the heaviness and grittiness of them.

You didn’t sleep and neither did Joel, both of you too anxious to do so. You had traveled another two hours instead of one, worried about a tail. Joel had done his best to cover your traps and you both had the same idea to make obvious tracks leading in the opposite direction of where you intended to camp for the night.

Come morning, you had finally felt the stress of yesterday wash over you. You were tempted to unwrap the bandages and check on your stitches but there was a pull on them that told you the scabbing was just right and would be okay for another day. You had sweat all through your underlayers as you sat up against the bark of a tree trunk. It was concerning the flashes of heat that worked over your body despite the chills that pebbled your skin. Fever. You made sure to take your next dose of antibiotics on time, eating a can of soup to help settle the heaving feeling that had settled over you.

No one asked for anything other than protein bars but hadn’t protested when you opened a can of something for yourself.

The day was slow, your feet dragging and heavy despite trying to overcome the lag you felt settling into your muscles. You and Ellie were currently waiting on the tree line on the outskirts of a gas station nestled on a dirt road that had been overgrown with kudzu. The plant was already such an invasive species and even more so now in the wake of everything. The thick, lush leaves of it a rich green as everything else began its annual deterioration. Autumn was here, the days shorter and the sun not as hot. Both a relief and a concern.

Once Joel deemed it safe enough, he waved you both over.

You found yourself being ushered inside, there was a cot in the back storage part of the store. Your pack was being pulled from your shoulders and the machete in your grip was being gently pried from you. You felt wide palms guide you down onto the cot, Joel kneeled down and place his hands on the top of your thighs. He caught your gaze and his brow furrowed, mouth frowning as he took in the state you were in.

“Darlin’, you really don’t look too good.”

“Fever. Antibiotics are doing the best they can but with this kind of break it’s a lot on the body.” You wanted to melt into his warmth, chills trailing down your back. You wanted to bury your face in the denseness of his chest, cradle your hands in the softness of his middle. To just lay atop him as if it was an easy, lazy Sunday morning in the time of Before. But that was a luxury you would never get to indulge in.

You could almost cry for the loss of it. For the opportunity that didn’t exist. For the softness that could be in the world as it was.

“I’ll go hunt, you need some protein to help. Ellie will keep watch, just rest.” He leaned forward and placed his chapped lips to your forehead in a comforting move. He looked as if he didn’t want to leave you side, his big brown eyes roving over you as you struggled to keep your head up. “I won’t be long and then you can sleep. I’ll come back to you, darlin’.”

“Copy that.” You whispered as you notched your head froward to place a kiss of your own to the corner of his mouth. He placed a parting kiss to the crown of your head, and you laid down atop the bed he had cleared of dust.

You could hear Ellie’s small voice wavering in and out of your addled mind, spiking high in some instances but remaining at its typical volume, it was paired with the deep rumbling of Joel’s every so often. You weren’t sure what day or time it was, body caught in in fighting off the alternating heat that overwhelmed you and the chills that pebbled your skin. You were sweating profusely and your entire body was one big ache as your muscles tried to combat it. You felt your lungs burn as you panted, mouth parted as you tried to regulate some part of any of it, to no avail.

Everything was a blur for the next few days, colors and vision fading in and out, voices doing so as well.

That was when you heard the terrifying snarl that jarred you from the edge of your semi-consciousness.

It wasn’t human. It wasn’t even Infected.

“BEAR!” Joel’s shout shook through your entire body, your bones hurting from the fear that slammed into you. You were rushing to your feet before you could even think, stuffing what little had been removed from your bag back into the fabric and you pulled it tight, good arm yanking back with the force of the movement and stinging as the muscles flexed.

The sheathed machete found its rightful spot on your belt and you were out the door in a matter of moments, eyes desperately sweeping over open space in front of the gas station. Joel was nowhere to be seen but Ellie was just now breaking through the tree line and rushing toward you. Her expression was panicked and there was a bright flush to her face as she panted heavily. Her gun was in her hand but she wasn’t firing it or keeping it at chest height ready to aim if she needed to.

“Joel-“

“Old man’s okay. Snares were full and the fuckin’ thing came outta nowhere. He slammed into me and told me to get back to you.”

“Joel!” The fear in your voice was masked by the sheer volume of it. Your shout carrying over the dilapidated expanse of the road that was clinging to its former life. Ellie flinched beside you, the sudden volume catching her off guard and startling her badly.

“I’m sorry, gremlin.” Your good hand was going around her shoulder and pulling her to you in a loose embrace. Her hands slowly lowered from where she had raised them to cover her ears. “What direction did you come from?”

She was about to answer, her entire body buzzing as the adrenaline still washed over her in heavy waves but the loud rustling and sound of breaking tree branches had you both whipping around to face the trees to the right of the small clearing. Joel had barely made it past the last trees before he was knocked to the ground. His knees collided hard with the broken asphalt of the ground but he quickly tucked his body as small as it would go and he turned to aim his gun at the large shadow a brown bear was making over him. He fired two shots, but the bear swiped at him, and the gun went flying from his grip.

“RUN!” He didn’t dare chance a look over his shoulder as he scrambled to his feet, the bear being slowed down only minimally with its own instincts taking over. “Don’t even think of steppin’ in!”

Your heart was beating fast in your ribcage, body numb and on autopilot as you watched Joel stand to his full height. He chanced a glance over his shoulder as he scrambled after his thrown gun. The bear slumped to all fours, panting heavily as bubbles of blood fell from its mouth, saliva hanging down in long drooling lines. The bright red jarring.

Joel didn’t pause once the gun was picked back up, he fired another shot, but it seemed to anger the struggling predator and you were ushering Ellie ahead of you, Joel close on your heels. The trees rustled around your little trio as you ran as fast as you could. Ellie shouted out in surprise when the crashing of the bear sounded behind all three of you, with ear splitting growls and snarls.

Ellie’s sneaker caught on a root, and she started to fall, her hands shooting out in front of her to try and catch herself. You scrambled with your one good hand to grab the back of her jacket, but it pulled off from her shoulders and you let it go, not wanting it to come off her altogether without her pack on both shoulders.

“Fuck, Joel, I can’t help her!” You shouted, angry at yourself for not being able, for being injured and unable to provide anything for the group except extra work. She was trying to push herself back up but started whimpering as she did so. Joel ran past you and scooped her up into his arms with a worried look back at you, the crashing of trees getting louder as the bear closed the head start you had gotten.

“Just get her safe!” You shouted as you stood your ground and pulled your colt from the holster at your side. You started firing the second the bears dark color could be seen between the trees. It snarled at you as it continued to race toward you and you were switching the handle of the colt to the hand of your slung up arm, reaching for your machete and raising it high as you rushed toward the boulder that Ellie nearly hurdled into, getting a little more height to swing the blade down hard into the neck of the hurtling beast. It severed muscles and hit bone and the blade settled deep into the animal as it began to thrash in an attempt to loosen it.

It roared, the sound waning off into a choking gurgle as blood spewed everywhere. The drops that hit your skin were warm and it made your stomach roll. It fell to the ground, the weight of it kicking up dust and its paws twitched toward you as it took its final, wheezing breaths. The gun fell from your hand, the machete still embedded into the neck of the now dead bear in front of you. Your vision blurred, mind hazy as you realized how far in the trees you were and utterly alone.

You fell to your knees after stepping from the boulder. Breath coming out hard and fast, hurting as it pushed past your lips. You looked down at your injured arm, slung up with cloth tied around your shoulder.

Pain was searing and throbbing from a long scratch, a swipe from the bear you hadn’t even realized had made contact, too focused with burying your blade into the thing’s neck. It didn’t appear to be too deep, but it would take a while to heal, the sleeves of your shirt and jacket shredded. Suddenly your vision was filled with a blurry face. His brown eyes were glittering, and his face was moving as if he was talking to you but you couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears.

You blinked a few times, trying to focus but realized it was because of tears that you couldn’t see properly, and you hiccupped as your breath stalled. You reached for him, with both hands, crying out at the pain that seared in your left arm with the action.

“Taylor, I’m so sorry. I don’t- it- it- I had to! I’m sorry I left the cabin-“ The hands you could feel on your shoulders stilled, the man in front of you freezing at your slurred words. Ears still ringing and tears still falling, you tried to catch your breath, but it was harder and harder to. The edges of your vision grayed out, your entire body feeling like a limb that had fallen asleep and suddenly you were falling to the ground as unconsciousness tugged you down. You couldn’t feel the arms that were helping to guide you gently to the ground.

“Uh, what the fuck?” Ellie reached out for Joel’s arm, spooked by literally everything that had happened today. Her emotions crested and she was tugging at his arm, shaking it to get the man’s attention. The look on her face was a mixture of so many things, but fear. Fear was the one he could see the most, so fresh. So easily identifiable because he had seen it merely a week before for the first time in such a glaring way that he could pick it out of her smallest ticks and facials twitches now. “Joel, what the actual fuck?”

“I-I don’t know.” He stuttered and felt like a damn fool for it. Feelings of failure bubbling up in his middle, threatening to take over his mind and his body, take him away to a plane of existence that was debilitating thoughts and emotions too much for him to handle. It was all encompassing, to be on that that plane, so far away from it all but his body remained in a world of death and destruction, of failure, of repeated scenarios that he could never make the right decisions in.

“She called you Taylor. Was she hallucinating?”

“Ellie, please. Let’s get her back to the building and we’ll talk.” He stood from his position where he had slid to his knees in front of you. Worry had him placing Ellie down without so much as a glance at the now dead threat before focusing on your shocked form. He leaned down and picked you up as best he could, but with a pinched expression he turned back to her. “Can-“

“I can stumble well enough, she’s unconscious, she needs more help.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie.”

“For carrying me away from an attacking bear when I tripped?”

“For…for not hearin’ it get close to us in the first place.”

“I didn’t hear it either,” She fumbled with the knife in her hands, unsure of what to do with the man’s undivided and sincere attention on her.

You woke suddenly, with a deep gasp of air that startled both of your companions, who had just settled for the night. It was dark, but a lantern on the floor between them was enough to tell you they were okay.

“You’re okay, we’re okay. You did-“ He was up on his feet, standing beside the cot but looking for all the world as if he was afraid to reach toward you. His hands balling up into fists at his sides as he looked you over. “You did such a good job today, you protected us.”

“I-what?”

“…the bear?”

The silence that fell in the small room was heavy, weighted. You looked from Joel to Ellie, their eyes watching you. You took mental stock of how your body felt sluggish, your head a little dizzy, your left arm hurting from the very top to the very bottom, the entire length of it throbbing dully.

“…bear?”

“Shit.” Ellie’s worry was wrapped up all in that single word.

Your name in the air snapped you back to attention a little bit.

“Bear. Dream. Bad dream.”

“No, no, darlin’, that-“ Joel finally reached out to you, bringing your good hand between his own and you felt the warmth of his palms. “That was real. You don’t…you don’t remember?”

“It was real?” Joel didn’t like the realization that you had been so overcome by adrenaline and instinct that you don’t remember jolting from your sick bed and defending them in one of the most intense chain of events and didn’t even remember it. The devotion struck him close to his heart and all he wanted to do was pull you to him and hold you. Tell you what a good job you did, how sorry he was for forcing that out of you. For not being able to protect you in your most vulnerable state.

“I came running to you, do you remember that?” Ellie moved closer, standing from her sleeping bag she had been tucked into with a comic book. You watched as she limped toward you, the memory and phantom motions of reaching for her as she stumbled in front of you flashing through your mind and body. She reached her own hand out and placed it atop your knee. Comforting you in what ways she could. Joel guided the hand he held toward her own and he laid it atop her smaller one for you. He moved off to the side and retrieved his water bottle and set it in your lap.

“I- yes.�� You gripped her hand tight in your own, fingers tangling with her smaller ones. “Joel carried you away because I couldn’t.”

“But you killed it.”

“Killed what?”

“…the bear?” Ellie tried again, to clear the fog in your mind.

“I’m not strong enough to kill a bear.” You huffed, getting annoyed at the merry go round of this conversation. “Not even strong enough to stand up without getting’ dizzy.”

“You shouldn’t be, but you did. You took care of us, and now we’re takin’ care of you, returnin’ the favor.” Joel stepped back into the conversation, seeing and sensing the confusion and annoyance flaring up in both of you as the conversation drew on.

“I didn’t kill a bear.”

“You did!” Ellie shouted, loud enough to startle you. She tore her hand from your own and went back to her sleeping bag. She rustled around for a second before coming back over to you and placed a giant fang in your hand. A bear canine. “You woke up out of whatever is goin’ on with you and you protected me, you protected Joel.”

“Oh.” Like it wasn’t the most important thing to happen today, like it didn’t mean everything.

Joel murmured quietly that you should eat, take another round of medication, and everyone should sleep. An hour later, food in your stomach that you still weren’t quite convinced was the bear you had killed earlier, and medicine dulling the pain and haze of your mind, you were back asleep with even breaths.

Joel and Ellie were quiet, the events of the day exhausting them but also worrying them.

“She-she called you Taylor.”

“She did, must’ve been in her mind.”

“But…you don’t look anything like him.”

“I – what?” Joel’s eyes snapped up to see her already looking at him, her small face scrunched up in confusion. “You been around this Taylor? He from the QZ?”

“He’s from the photos in her pack.”

“Ellie, you shouldn’t be snooping in people’s packs. What they keep in there is private.”

“She let me see! They fell out back in-in-“ She swallowed her words and took a shuddering breath. It took a moment for her to calm down. “When you were takin’ care of her nose bleed, they fell out of her pack and she let me see them.”

“Nosebleed…” A grunt sounded from him when he recalled the rather alarming moment back in Kansas City, as you all traveled underneath the city toward the hope of safety.

“He…he was important to her. She saw him in you.”

Such a simple statement, one that she had no idea of knowing would cause the beginning of the chain of events that it did.

“Everyone has someone that was important to them.”

“Like Tess?” She whispered, as if afraid to speak the name at normal volume.

“Like Tess.” He tried not to bark the words out, but they hurt his throat all the same. “Now sleep.”

It was early morning and Joel found himself rustling through your pack for the first aid kit. He had sliced along his hand as he tried to carve more of the bear for a decent breakfast. He would kill for some eggs to go along with the meat, but he hadn’t had them in so long he was sure they would upset his stomach.

The photos Ellie kept talking about crinkled with his digging efforts and he ignored the allure of fishing them out. It was your business, it was your past, it was your…trauma. He had no business looking upon them until you wanted him to, and even then, he wasn’t sure he was brave enough to. Had the right to.

They flitted out, taunting him. He was staring at the backs of them as they laid out on the floor where he was kneeled beside the pack. The faded blood splatter bright to his eyes despite the age, he could only imagine how much havoc must’ve been happening for something as small as an instant photo to get covered.

“You can look at them.”

The man startled at your words, you hadn’t been completely asleep for a while now. Waiting quietly in the waning darkness of the room, watching as the sun began to rise and send faint light into the abandoned building. It was colder than it had been recently, the chill in the air only a taste of the winter to come.

He looked over to you, frozen in place with his hands deep in your pack and his shoulders tense.

“’s not my place.”

“Joel, if you want to, you can. I’m not forcing you but I’m not tearing them out of your sight either.”

“Darlin’, you’ve been through a lot the past few days. Don’t want to add to it by being nosy.”

“But you want to.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I carry things, same way you do.” You fiddled with your hands in your lap as you moved your legs slowly to dangle over the edge of the cot, feet on the ground. “It helps me to talk about them, sometimes. But I’m not asking the same from you. I would never make you face something you don’t want to.”

He reached out to take the photos from your hand, an offering. His hands shook as he did so, not sure why he was so afraid of the flimsy, worn film. When he turned them over, his heart stuttered in his chest and his fingers gripped them tightly. The bump of your stomach through the dress panging in a way he hadn’t anticipated. You looked so happy, just like he was sure he did in the photos he had left behind in his house all those years ago. More focused on the girl in his care, the life he had to protect at all costs, his whole life in the bright smile she would beam at him even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“Raiders.” Was all you said as he shuffled through them. He felt guilt again at not being able to help Tess, to give her something good to reflect on. Surely he had brought something to her life, for her to have stuck with him all those years. Surely she would have remembered him fondly and not just the hardships and haze of drugs and the struggle of power they had been fighting both before and inside the QZ. He felt a lump form in his throat, emotions getting the better of him.

“I…it was my fault. I hadn’t covered up my tracks well enough one day. They found our cabin and they came at us with everything they had, for everything we had. I carry the same things you do.” Your whispered words had him carefully placing the photos back into your pack and reaching for your empty hands. He gave them a squeeze before asking for your help at patching up his injured hand.

Snow had fallen during the night, prompting you to insist it was time to move far earlier than you normally would have. Busing yourself with setting up the small compact moka pot from your pack, you dug out the ash from the fire the night before. Joel had taken watch until around midnight, you taking over the second his head had hit the pillow and his even breathing sounded in the air alongside Ellie’s. She had insisted on being a part of the rotation, but you both vetoed it until further notice. She was still having nightmares, scrambling up at random times during the night with frantic movements to push someone who no longer existed off of her. Fighting, muttering under her breath, scared. Scarred.

Your ears took in the sounds of the crips morning, eyes tracking the pristine ground around your small set up. Joel and Ellie had instinctually moved toward one another in your absence from the sandwich you had created around her to keep her warm. You had donned a black beanie, giving her your other one that was a dark blue. They were insulated on the inside, lined with a once soft sherpa but it still did it’s job. Apologies had fallen from your lips at not having another for Joel but his hands intertwining with yours had been his way of calming you down, telling you he would be okay. That he wanted you both to be warm and he could go without until something came along.

You rinsed out the two thermos basins as best you could with snow, letting it melt inside over the fire before pouring it out off to the side. The splatter of hot water sizzling in the dusting that had begun to stick. Tearing open a packet of hot chocolate that had been hidden deep in your pack, you poured it into the chamber on the moka pot and placed it atop the makeshift frame over the fire. As soon as it began to rattle and bubble you poured it into Ellie’s thermos and moved on to put some of the ground coffee into the chamber, using your gloves as protection from the heated metal.

The two figures asleep behind you began to rouse, with little interaction, everything was packed up and they sat around the small fire to warm a bit before it was time to start the days trek.

Off in the distance, a log cabin sat on the frosty edge of the lake. It was the first sign of any type of human existence your trio had seen for days.

previous chapter || next chapter

#dev writes #fic: return the favor #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #canon compliant #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #ellie williams #platonic ellie williams #angst #comfort #internal monologue of emotions #joel's feelings #ellie's feelings #the last of us show #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #angst with a happy ending

[pumpkin--carver]

Cats or Dogs?

Which do the chacaters of Arcane prefer? The sometimes ferocious felines? Or the playful pups?

Let's find out shall we?

Vi

Now, Vi may be a lebsian, however she does not follow any rules and shes not about to start now. Violet would definately have two dogs. One would be a super cute, super fluffy fur baby. While the other would be some big bulky protecter. She loves both her dogs equally and they go everywhere with her. For her smaller dog she would have a littler carrier for when it gets tired. As for her "scary" dog, she would most likely get a breed with lots of stamina so they wouldn't have trouble keeping up as she runs through the streets of Piltover. Names. When it comes to names, Vi would be very basic. Something along the lines of Fluffy and Spike. Only theres one catch. Fluffy would big her big dog while Spike would most certainly be her small baby.

She had considered calling one her of dogs Naked or Nude just so she could watch people's faces turn to horror when she said "Let me just go get naked."

Vi's dogs are very well behaved.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is not a rule breaker. However, this is not because she dislikes dogs or even because she prefers cats. Infact, Caitlyn likes both dogs and cats. But due to the nature of herself job, she tends to not have enough time to properly care for a dog.

She never planned to get any animal due to her job, but when she found Whisker scared and alone in the wreckage of a burned down building, she knew he needed a good home.

When whisker first came into Caitlyns care he had a few burns which she tried her hardest to take care of. And with the help of the cities finest vet, whisker healed up in no time at all.

Whisker was never overly loving unless it was on his terms. With that being said, he did like to stay close to his master. This worked rather well for Caitlyn because she could get on with her work and not have to worry about Whisker being upset.

Whisker does not like dogs but Vi's dog fluffy is his bestfriend. Hates all other dogs.

Whisker is not that well behaved and will scratch all the expensive furinture in the house with no cares. Caitlyn never tells him off because she loves him so much. Her mother on the other hand... is not a fan of the cat.

Jayce

We all already what Jayces would prefer. Thats right! Cats!

...

Hang on. Thats not right. Let's try that again.

Thats right! Dogs!

Jayce would have a golden retriever called Pumpkin or Blackberry. And both him and his dog are loyal until the end. Which causes Mel to comment on alike him and his pooch are.

Pumpkin/Blackberry are protective of her master. In fact, when Jayce and Mel had gotten into a partiularly heated argument, she wake up and placed herself between Mel and Jayce. Then she got into a defensive stance, bristled her fur and showed Mel her teeth. All whilst letting out a low warning growl.

Mel wasn't afraid of Pumpkin/Blackberry but she did leave while remarking that Jayce should teach his dog some manners.

"Maybe you should ask Vi for some advice? Even her dogs are better behaved than this."

Jayce wasn't mad Pumpkin/Blackberry he was fuming at Mel though for how they acted but he did secretly agree with Mel.

Pumpkin/Blackberry still has some training to go before she can be the best girl around.

Viktor

This little lab rat has never had the chance to own his own pet yet. But If he had to pick between the two. Well... He wouldn't be able to pick. Why you might be asking? Its obvious isn't it?

The reason Viktor wouldn't be able to pick between the two is simply because his heart belongs to his work. Yet, there is something about those scaly little reptiles that fascinates him.

Would probably have a chameleon if he were to have a pet

красота is the name he would pick. Meaning beauty in russian. According to google translate anyway.

Author's note

I think I'd like to do more of these random headcannons. Or just more random writing things. I do hope you enjoy this little scribble of mine. If anyone would like me to do this specific headcannon for any other Arcane characters do let me know! As always, stay safe, drink plenty of water and please do take care of yourselves. I love you all my little plumpkins.

#vi #vi arcane #arcane #arcane violet #arcane caitlyn #arcane viktor #arcane jayce #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman #jayce talis #jayce arcane #viktor arcane #headcanon #cats #dogs

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 149- Psycho Circus

Summary: Depression has fallen on the Queen. Narcisse has a plan to snap her out of it. Meanwhile, it's a Mirkwood morning with a mischievous Moose. Thranduil reclaims his life and all are made aware of the drastic changes in him. Josie appears to be going through some changes of her own as she dishes out some well deserved karma. Jo and Narcisse feel the heat. Jo sees someone from her dreams. Garrett makes a decision.

*Warnings* depression, angst, violence, language, suicidal thoughts

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Two days later- December 6, 2023

You were in some mental way after the dream you had of Thranduil two nights ago at Moonlight and you had confined yourself to your room and your bed with Leean. The letter you had written to your King still had not surfaced, nor had Garrett, your beloved m.i.a. vampire.

Haldir had been there to check on you non stop and Lola still tended to yours and Leean's every needs, even after the way you had treated her. It wasn't intentional and you honestly didn't even remember it, but you had still apologized after Haldir told you the things you had said to her. Lola, being the kind hearted woman she was, graciously accepted and told you she understood.

Then there was Stephane. He had finally showed up the day after your breakdown, which Lola had clued him in on what had happened. He also had been there to check on you around the clock and had swore to you that he was not upset about the happenings at his villa. You knew it was a selfless lie and that he was keeping those feelings bottled up in order to not add to your grief. He had also explained of his absence, that he was aiding in the hunt for Harker and handling some Catherine related business.

It was breaking dawn and you were awoken by a knock upon the door. It was Narcisse and he had brought you a variety of foods from the mornings breakfast buffet, which also consisted of fresh pineapple juice, your favorite, and a small crystal vase with violets in it. The day prior, he had brought you all of the daily meals as well, but each time, you only picked at them, for your appetite had vanished in your sudden bout of depression. It wasn't shocking to you though, for you had been strong for too long, faking your way through the wreckage of every useless day and knew it would all catch up to you at some point. You had finally and painfully come to accept it after all this time...that your fairytale was at the end and you had to start all over again.

"Good morning Jo. I have your breakfast here with all the things you like. Now I know you haven't been eating much, so this time I brought you something special. One of your favorites. Pancakes."

Before he had even told you, you knew, for you smelled the maple aroma which was also Garrett's scent. Did Narcisse do it on purpose to see what your reaction would be to verify his speculations of your feelings for the vampire? Because he certainly knew the relations of the pancakes to you. Either way, you held the reaction in and swallowed it down, for you just couldn't cry anymore.

"Thank you..." you softly spoke and sipped at your tropical juice, which only made you think of Thranduil and how he had always made sure you had fresh squeezed pineapple juice every morning.

Your eyes stung as they tried to muster up some fluid but you were literally all cried out.

Narcisse noticed your once again refusal to eat, so he moved the tray to the side and sat down by your feet. He smiled and took your hand into his, which still carried a small charge of electricity when your hands united.

"I have something that might cheer you up and possibly offer you an incentive to free yourself of this desolate slumber. How does some revenge on Catherine sound?"

Your eyes slightly perked up as they met his quite elated blue eyes. You knew the look very well. He had been up to something that involved her and he was over the moon about it, which instantly sparked your curiosity.

"Alright, you have my attention. What is it that you are planning?"

"Here's the deal. Go and take yourself a long warm bath in the healing water because I know you have not done so these past few days. As you know, it will revive you physically and mentally. And then I want you to at least eat your pancakes, for I made them and the syrup myself. Once you have completed that, I want you to meet me at the stables and I will inform you of the days agenda, in which I know you will be quite pleased about and will want to assist. Do you trust me?"

"I...Well..of course..I do but..."

"No buts. It is settled. I will see you there in a few hours."

Stephane squeezed your hand and grinned, then rushed off, intentionally giving you no time to turn him down.

Mirkwood-Thranduil's Halls

It was a busy and hectic snowy morning in the woodland realm as the days of winter neared. The daily shipments at the docks were underway and arachnid battles took place near the borders of Mirkwood.... and then there was Thranduil's faithful companion, Moose, who was as usual, giving the stable attendant a hard time with his care. The great elk had become intolerable since his master's supposable death and even somewhat depressed as you had become.

"I was informed you were in need of my help?" Feren asked the highly frustrated elven attendant as he rode up on his white horse. The look on Feren's face spoke of annoyance, for he knew what it was about.

"I am beyond my wit's end with this volatile and hostile beast. None of us can control him and lack of rest has been had by all, for he howls like a wolf at the moon all night. It has since worsened these past few days. I have had to tie him to a tree just to barely accomplish what is supposed to be the simplest of tasks. He refuses his meals, kicks his water troughs over and has even bitten me when I try to clean his hooves. Look!"

The angered elf turned to reveal his torn bloodied garment that used to cover his buttocks.

"You do know not to turn your back on the animal, for he is known for this ill-mannered behavior."

"What would you have me do then? For I am certain this demon is not opposed to ripping the skin from my face. Earlier, he even took hold of my hair and began chewing and tugging at it. I know for a fact he did not mistake it as hay!"

Feren lowered his head to hide his forming grin. "Well then, I would suggest wearing your battle gear. There is nothing more I can do and the stag must be well cared for. King Legolas's orders."

The elven attendant had some rather vulgar elvish rantings after the captain of the guard trotted away for spider control, then furrowed his brows as he turned to make another attempt at bathing the tied up filthy elk.

As he poured more of the magic water on Moose, the elk's dark brown eye leered at the attendant as if he were planning another devious scheme to free himself.

Moose lunged up on his hind legs, successfully snapping the rope that bound him, then whacked the attendant to the ground with his enormous antlers and snarled at him. His raging hot breath came out like a puff of smoke in the snow flurried crisp morning air, then he repeatably and aggressively dug his hoof into the ground, before galloping off as if he had seen or heard something...or someone.

"You blimey beast! Halt!!" the elf hollered but Moose was long gone, heading to the entrance of the halls. And then, the elf saw what the elk saw. The Elvenking riding up on a horse with Tauriel and Raven, whom he did not know. With widened eyes and a gasp, he then ran hard to find Feren.

The moonstone eyes of the King met the elated chocolate ones of his great elk. Thranduil leaped from his horse and reunited with his loyal long time best friend.

Moose rested his chin upon Thranduil's head and howled with immense joy as the King closed his eyes and stroked the gentle giant's neck.

"Hello my old friend. How I have missed thee. Surely you knew I would come back for you. Stress no more, for not even death could defeat me. It is good to be home."

Moose huffed and bobbed his head in excitement, then bowed with his front leg bent underneath him to appropriately greet his master.

Thranduil scratched the top of his head as he respectfully bowed back to the humbled great elk.

The sweet homecoming soon turned sour as Moose took sight of Raven. He had not forgotten the dhampir and how she had set fire to Lestat's stables with all the horses inside and of course, he knew she was just plain evil regardless.

Up he went on his hind legs, his front hooves vigorously clawing at the air as he roared in disapproval of her presence. Raven fell back against Tauriel, then scurried behind her, peeking out with her eyes afire.

Thranduil slightly chuckled and praised his courageous comrade. How could he scold the confused animal whom he had been separated from for over a month and who was only reacting as he should to the forces of evil about him and protecting his master?

"There now, my friend. I understand your concerns and frustration. I assure you, the dhampir knows her place and will be of no trouble. You do not have to enjoy her company, for I myself find that an impossible task to do, but for now, she will be residing here under my watch. My reasons you must trust."

Moose tilted his head and gazed into Thranduil's eyes. Even the elk knew something was amiss with the King, for he saw great sorrow and turmoil in his moonlike hues. He then spoke to Thranduil in his mind in a way that only the elf lord could understand. Moose wanted to know where you were and expressed how much he missed you also.

Again, Thranduil could not scold him for inquiring of you, although anyone else he would have. Instead, in his exultant state of reclaiming his throne and Kingdom while temporarily keeping the Elvenking at bay, he admitted something to his trusted companion. Something that he had not admitted to anyone, not even himself.

"I....miss her too." Thranduil confessed as he closed his eyes and deeply sighed in despair. "But..... it is for the best that she remains far away from me, for I cannot be trusted with her heart nor can I be certain I will not harm her. If I were ever to do so, I would not want to exist. In this moment, my mind is clear, but it is only temporary. I cannot control the dark side of me when it arises. It is if there are two of me, which I now understand. Even you, my faithful friend, must be cautious of me." Thranduil whispered into the elk's mind.

With his snout, Moose softly nudged the moonstone pendant that hung from Thranduil's neck. The gentle beast's eyes saddened, for he could see his King's internal conflict of his mind and heart, and he now understood that Thranduil had a great battle ahead of him to fight against his altered persona.

"Nonetheless. She seems to have moved on from what I have witnessed and she will be safer where she is." he continued, but his words began to change as he felt the agonizing ache of the Elvenking's arrival. "My daughter though, I will reclaim and she will be raised in my kingdom and I, as well, will move on and take a new Queen."

Many Elven guard began to appear and surround Thranduil with incredulous awe in their eyes of their King's miraculous return, and then Feren came rushing out. In his stunned state, all he could do was briefly stop and stare at the ghost before him.

"My lord Thranduil... it... is true, what Ki...Prince Legolas informed me of before his departure to Lorien? You...are alive."

"It would appear that way, now would it not? It has been a long journey, from beginning to end. I now wish to enjoy the solace of my chambers....alone. Tauriel will explain all that has occurred and she will also resume her position at your side as captain of the guard. See to it that a festive feast is prepared for this evening and that my elk is properly tended to and given a feast of his own, for I can see from the sight of him that such a simple task was poorly done. Also, a nursery shall be added in my chambers in the coming days for my daughter. Take the dhampir with you Tauriel. She will reside in your chambers until the internal wicked one is eliminated. You will be responsible for the task. And Raven, any such black magic used by you in my kingdom or against myself or my company will result in your immediate return to the goblin king. Weigh your odds carefully, although I can assure you, the damnation will be removed from you in either situation. Torture and death verses comfort and life. The choice would seem quite simple."

"What???" Raven screeched in panic. "You cannot be serious!! My child will not be evil! Jace...he is not evil! Neither is Josie!!"

"Your words are of no assurance to me, nor do they matter. The risk will not be taken. Josephine is not his spawn. It was all a fabrication of your malevolent mother's lying lips, for we now know Josephine is the twin of Faramir who's father is Julian. Jace is a product of two evils, YOU are a product of two evils. This fruitless conversation is finished."

"So is your son then because his mother was evil and you are no better! So is your daughter too, for her mother, Josephine came from my evil mother! And you say I am evil, yet you want me here and not my child! You make no sense!! What does make sense is that you are a hypocrite and a bastard!"

Thranduil stiffened up as his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and his nose flared, which meant nothing good for Raven.

He snatched her wrist as fast as a cobra's strike and yanked her against him, leering down at her, watching her uselessly squirm on her tippy toes.

"I do NOT have to make sense! This is MY kingdom! Legolas and Leeanduil are MY children! Speak to me in such a manner once more and I will remove your tongue in the presence of all here and feed it to my elk!"

The Elvenking released her so hard, she skidded across the ground onto her ass.

"Now...Feren, Tauriel. Do as I have commanded!" he hissed.

Feren was dumfounded and discovered himself speechless as he gazed at Thranduil.

"Have you fallen deaf and mute just as your eyes were struck blind only moments ago?"

"Y..yes..my lord." both elf captains swiftly complied, bowed and left with Tauriel forcefully tugging at an uncooperative, cursing Raven.

"It is a long story." Tauriel whispered along the way to the befuddled Feren of Thranduil's behavior and shocking guest.

Thranduil said his temporary goodbyes to Moose, promising him he would return in the evening to spend time with him, then turned to his obedient guards.

"I am aware of the new spider infestation and Shelob's presence. I expect that it will be handled in a timely manner, for there is a much more dire situation on the rise. Be warned and prepared for the great evil of Jareth the Goblin King and his company, for war will soon be upon us. I have returned and all shall remain as it was before my departure. As you were."

Thranduil raised his hand to signal his company to depart and then he finally made his way into his dearly missed halls that held your unwanted presence in every corner. The real challenge awaited him though, as he hesitantly entered his chambers that he once shared with you.

As you stood in the stables, your eyes bulged when Stephane informed you of his vengeful plan for Catherine, then you grinned in pleasure, just as Narcisse knew you would.

"Alright. I'm in." you happily accepted. "I like your way of thinking Narcisse. I cannot wait to see her face. So that's what you have been up to while you were away and entire day?"

"It is. I had to make all the necessary arrangements. I did not abandon you like I know you must think and I am sorry if..."

"No, Stephane. I know you didn't...and wouldn't. I...I was more concerned that you were upset with me over our interrupted...date."

"How could I be angry with you over that. It is not your fault that Selene was attacked and you certainly had no way of knowing it would happen."

"But...it is my fault really. Harker is here because of me and that damn book...and my moonstone too, but he will never get his hands on that. I made sure of it."

Your mind drifted to Garrett again until you heard the tiger's roar from behind the stables which startled you into Stephane's arms.

"There now." he chuckled. "Blaze is actually quite harmless unless commanded otherwise. Come now. Catherine awaits."

As you walked hand in hand with Narcisse around the stables, there sat a large wooden cage on wheels that had two sections in it. One held Blaze and the other was empty...for now.

Catherine could be heard bitching and shouting as one of Narcisse's guards brought her forth and tossed her to the ground. The look on her disheveled face when she saw the tiger made you uncontrollably grin.

"Stephane, what is the meaning of this?? What are you doing with that tiger??!!" she frantically asked.

"It is Lord Narcisse to you and it does not take a genius to see what is about to happen here."

"Y..you...you're going to feed me to a tiger?!! What about Charles...and Claude?! They will know what you've done!"

"And a genius you are not. You are merely going to suffer the same fate that my horse, Arion, did. Locked far away in isolation with little to no food or water, left alone to die of loneliness and lack of care. I now have the proof of all your crimes and it's all in writing as well. When I first read Claude's diary, I became infuriated and planned to banish her and her child from here, but as I have had time to think more clearly on the matter as I told her I would, I then realized she was merely another victim of your manipulations and she shows great remorse for what she was forced to do. For that, I am willing to grant her some mercy. You, not so much. As far as Charles, I do believe you and I have an...understanding...about him if you wish to have the privilege of seeing him again, for I assure you, he is aware of what you have done and is quite disgusted and has no desire at this time to look upon you again. If you are a....good girl...he may be able to be persuaded otherwise. We will speak more on that matter after you are all settled into your new home."

Narcisse's glare down at her told her she had better keep her mouth shut about Thranduil's letter. He then motioned to the guard who then came and picked Catherine up and began shoving her into the empty side of the cage.

"Blaze. I have a...treat...for you." Narcisse smugly said, emphasizing on the word treat which seemed to be a triggering word for him to attack.

She fought and screamed as the tiger roared and swatted at her through the thin wooden bars of his cell, trying to tag her leg by the sheer scissors that were hidden inside the fur.

All you did was hysterically laugh as Catherine cowered her way to the furthest corner, holding onto the bars for dear life. Narcisse watched you in awe and in that moment, he saw his future Queen, something he had never envisioned with anyone.

"My dear Jo, would you like to do the honors?"

Narcisse held out a small whip with leather fringes dangling from the end.

"You...mean?"

"Go ahead. Go play and revel in some satisfaction for all that she has done to you and those you care for."

You hesitantly took it from him, but secretly enjoyed the adrenaline you were feeling, the control you now had over her and watching her feel helpless as she had made you feel. You were flat out sick and fucking tired of feeling helpless and that anger was now imminent. The danger gave you a rush like no other, the way you had always felt at your King's side during your battles of the dark elves, spiders and the great and powerful Smaug himself. It was simple. You were just sick of being the good girl.

You puled yourself up onto the back step of the giant crate and stared Catherine in her cold yet frightened eyes.

"You just think you are something special don't you little girl?" Catherine snarled.

"I do not think it. I know it. Now you know what it's like to feel caged waiting for the next swipe of the claws, except that it's not metaphorical for you."

You tapped the small riding crop onto one of the bars, which incited the tiger's roar as he began to pace about in his lustful circle. Now you knew why Narcisse gave it to you. Blaze didn't like it...and your intuition told you that he didn't like Catherine either as he leered at only her.

Stephane let out a chortle. "Do tell her Catherine, why Blaze is in such a fury. Tell her why I chose him to attend and be your chariot to your final resting place."

You then saw it in the beast's eyes, the hatred in them that you thought was just plain animal instinct. It was personal.

"Because he's a jungle cat that has been forced to do tricks and be caged!"

"Like you did to Narcisse?" you proudly quipped, making Stephane proud himself of your defense of him.

"Since Catherine here is too scared cat...sorry Blaze, to admit the torment she inflicted upon this gentle at heart cat, I will fill you in. As you can see, they do not forget...nor forgive. The only thing that keeps you in one piece are those flimsy wooden rails. As you know, Jo, I have the carnivals a few times a year. And for each one, Catherine would taunt Blaze. Call him names, berate him and laugh. She would use that particular horse crop to strike through his bars...when he was a little tyke. She once tried it when he was older and much bigger and he finally fought back. She was a little too close to the cage, just like now, and he mauled her leg up pretty bad. Of course, she never did this in my presence for I would have tossed her inside and let him have his way which is quite tempting as I speak to raise his bars up. I would hear about it through others which is one of the things that brought on my strong dislike of the woman, but again, Charles was the only thing that ever kept her safe."

"And yet here I am, not safe! What would Charles think of this!!?? What would your new lover here think of you if she knew what you really are??"

Narcisse laughed heartedly. "He knows and was quite fine with it if he did not have to watch. Just goes to show how much of him you have lost. Would be a ...pity...if you were to lose all of him....."

Again, Catherine knew what he meant. She knew Narcisse could turn her son completely against her if he wanted to, so, for now, she kept a tight lip.

"You brought all of this on yourself. No wonder this cat detests you. You're the real animal. A manipulative, vindictive bitch who is getting her karma three fold! That's what you get for using black magic. And if you must know, yes, I am his lover...in fact, I had that cock just the other night in his villa and I cannot wait to have it again."

Narcisse's eyes magnified times ten as he lowered his head with a grin he could not control. Your boldness was turning him on, even if part of what you said was not true. He knew you said it to get under her skin, but he also felt that you did in fact want him.

Catherine's eyes were a reflection of Stephane's in that moment, except her mouth had dropped open.

"Liar!" she shouted. "You're too strung up on that vampire! Everyone knows that!"

"Is that so??"

You hopped down and strutted right over to Stephane, grabbing him by the shirt collar and yanking him into a deep passionate kiss that included your tongue. All you heard was her gasp as you wrapped you arms around his neck and fell completely into the peppermint kiss. The memories form his villa soared through your mind, making you forget where you were for the moment.

You slowly parted from his lips, leaving you both gazing at each other in shock.

You regained your stance and stepped back up to the cage with a smirk.

"Convinced yet? It don't matter if you are or aren't. While you're rolling in the hay tonight and every night...again metaphorically, I'll be doing it as well, in Narcisse's bed...or bath...or floor....maybe the desk...whichever we're in the mood for. Now...I think I've had my fun here."

You snapped Catherine's hand with the crop, causing her to wince and pull it back.

"That's for Haldir!"

You then cracked her other hand. "And that's for Garrett! You're in the psycho circus now bitch. Welcome to the show!"

Catherine whipped her hand back so fast that she lost her balance and fell backwards towards the drooling and impatient big cat, which took a swipe at her leg, then off the driver went with the wicked woman clinging to the bars and giving you a death glare.

Narcisse walked up behind you, doing his usual fidgeting with his fingers.

"Well now. I am highly impressed...and quite...kindled. I am really liking the bad girl in you."

The whole experience had you wired, in more ways than one. You went straight back for his lips, blocking out, maybe running from, all of the other thoughts and emotions you were dealing with to focus on what was right in front of you.

"I like the bad in me as well. It's a surreal feeling. Almost euphoric and...maybe we should continue where we left of later this evening?" you softly spoke against his lips as you ran your fingers up through the back of his hair.

'I....like your way of thinking. How about a candlelight dinner...in my chambers?"

"It's...another date then."

"Perfect. I need to go and assist with Catherine for now. I will see you then."

Narcisse smiled and stroked your hair, then took off on his horse to catch up. He knew he had much more to discuss with Catherine regarding one certain letter.

As you were almost to the castle...you got a very eerie feeling of being watched. You gasped and turned to see Amara at the edge of the forest....just like in your dream....and now, you had to know why.

You went walking towards her and she began to walk into the forest and disappear.

"Amara!! Wait!" you shouted and ran after her.

Meanwhile, in a land far far away, Garrett was out on the hunt for his dinner. Not his usual menu choice though which consisted of evil people. This time he had to succumb to the horrid taste of animals, for he could not risk being detected on the radar of those he knew would be looking for him, mostly that of Narcisse and his warlock army.

His mind was a mess, knowing he had to keep you out of it and out of his life. The thought of you seeing him like you did in such a vile way made him realize for the first time what he really was.

Before he met you, Garrett never cared...in fact he never cared about anything. Not even himself...and he still didn't. He knew he would not be able to stay away from you forever, but he knew he had to, which only brought him to one conclusion...one that he had from the moment he left...one that Selene suspected he might do. The hint was in his letter to you, although it wasn't intentional...or was it? Maybe part of him desperately wanted to know how much you truly cared. Your dream offered him some hope...but what did it matter now? He couldn't be with you, for he was a monster like all warned you of and his shame had made the decision for him, that being he would find a way to truly die.....

@redeemer46

#lee pace #king thranduil #thranduil and josie #thranduil #the elvenking #thranduil fanfiction #love stories #dark fiction #fantasies #fairytales #magic #elves #warlocks #witches #fantasy fanfic #craig parker #narcisse #thransie #feren #tauriel #thranduil and moose #thranduil and his elk #mirkwood #garrett twilight #vampires #love triangle #Youtube

[tmbswhodunit]

WHO DUNNIT TMBS CHALLENGE - Don't Grow Up Too Fast

“Ugh!”

Rhonda stomped down the steps angrily, plopping down on the penultimate one and sitting next to Milligan. He raised an eyebrow at her, looking up from where he was repotting some daisies. The flowers needed more space to grow, and it was high time he completed the task.

“‘Ugh’?” He fought to keep a small smile off his face, as the eight year old still looked adorable, even in her fit of righteous fury, and tilted his head curiously.

“Mr. Benedict is being such a dad!” She exploded. “He won’t let me help with the tests, even though Pen gets to. He keeps saying he ‘doesn’t want to involve me in such matters while I’m so young’, as if I didn’t pass those same tests last time!”

She continued raging against this horrible injustice while Milligan quietly listened and resumed tending to his daisies. After a few minutes, she flopped into his side, having run out of steam.

“I just don’t get it,” She moaned, “I don’t understand why Dad won’t let me help. I’m smart enough! I did pass the tests after all, and I’m plenty brave. What’s wrong with me? Why won’t he let me help?”

Milligan was silent for a moment, thinking.

“Rhonda,” He began slowly, “Has it ever occurred to you that Mr. Benedict may be trying to protect you?” He really wasn’t sure how to explain the whole situation to a child, especially one he had only known for such a short time, but he thought that perhaps this would give her a new perspective.

“Of course he’s trying to protect me!” Rhonda threw the arm that wasn’t currently curled around Milligan’s into the air. “That’s all he ever does. But I can do things! I’m not a little kid. And Penny—”

“Now,” Milligan interrupted, somewhat thrown off by how swiftly Rhonda had understood the situation, even if her young emotions had a hard time coming to terms with it. “You know how your sister feels about her name.”

Rhonda heaved a dramatic sigh and slumped back against the stairs. Milligan privately thought it looked rather uncomfortable, but she was committed to it now.

“Why doesn’t she just go by ‘Pen’ like I said? No one’s going to ask her what it’s short for.”

“Nevertheless, she has asked us to call her by the name she picked out.” Milligan got up from where he was sitting, moving around the yard to place the freshly transplanted flowers. He had mapped everything out beforehand, and it ended up looking rather nice.

After a few seconds, Rhonda let out another enormous sigh. She stood up and began following Milligan as he worked, standing just at his elbow as she watched.

"Do—" She paused, “Do you think I shouldn’t be allowed to help with the tests?”

Milligan stopped, considering. “Rhonda,” He began slowly, “I think that you should be allowed to stay a child for as long as you can. And I think Mr. Benedict would agree. He only wants to keep you safe, and I think that you should respect his judgment on this matter.” He cocked his head, glancing back at her.

“I’ll respect him,” Rhonda grumbled, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it! I want to help; I want to know all of the secrets. Tell me more about what you get to do on missions.”

And so Milligan began to share his stories, picking ones that he thought would both intrigue the small girl and dissuade her from attempting to join in until she was at least a little bit older.

It was dark by the time he finished with his yard chores, and Rhonda was seated on the railing of the stairs, swinging her legs. She perked up upon hearing a door shut from inside the house, leaping off the railing and calling over her shoulder, “Hurry up, Milligan, they’re back!”

They had only been gone since late that morning, but to Rhonda it had seemed like ages.

She raced into the arms of her older sister, hugging her tightly. “I’m glad you came back.” She mumbled. Then she pulled back slightly, looking at Mr. Benedict, “You too. Even though you won’t let me help.” She released Number Two and hugged her dad.

“Well, I’m certainly happy to hear that,” Mr. Benedict gave her one last squeeze before letting go and kneeling down to look her in the eye. “Do you understand why I don’t want you to help with the tests quite yet? I will always explain it to you, but I feel as though there is some other reason you might be having a hard time accepting things.”

Rhonda tilted her head to the side, considering. “I’m not sure. You say you don’t want me to have to grow up any faster than I need to, which I can kind of see. I don’t understand it, but I’m going to respect it.” She shot a quick look at Milligan, who was just coming through the backdoor, still wiping dirt from his hands.

Mr. Benedict nodded, seeming proud of her for some reason. “That’s a very mature decision to make, my dear. Thank you for your trust in me, even though you may not understand my point. I promise there will come a time when you will, and we can talk this over then if you wish.”

Smiling, Rhonda nodded. “C’mon, P— Number Two, come look at the flowers Milligan potted today!” She waved excitedly at Number Two and raced around Milligan, out the door he had just come through.

“She’s never going to let that nickname go, is she?” Number Two sighed, but she had a fond smile sneaking onto her face as she followed.

And so the two sisters went out into the backyard, grinning and laughing and dancing among the flowers and exchanging stories about their days. Mr. Benedict and Milligan watched from the window, and as the night breeze blew, every one of them was content.

#tmbs #the mysterious benedict society #who dun it mbs challenge #and another one is sacrificed to the poll gods #:3

[bekaroth-reads]

Brynjolf x reader

[Okay, so quick explanation about something. In the game, Brynjolf calls the character lad or lass depending on the character model chosen. But, I tend to write in gender neutral as much as possible so it can be any character inserted, so I decided to have him say bairn. Like how someone might say kid instead of boy or girl]

You had just gotten back from doing a job for Maven Black-Briar herself. And, boy, do you feel awful about it. Sure, the owner of that rival brewery was not that best person. But, what was looking to be almost an entire life in prison seemed like too much of a payment. Not to mention, it wasn’t like his awful treatment of his workers was something that Maven of all people was concern with. Regardless, you made your way back to Riften, reported back to Maven, and made your way back to the guild center to wait for more information about what to do next. After checking in with Mercer, you headed straight for the Ragged Flagon. You were thinking about everything that was going down, and things that they might lead to when what you wanted to think about was absolutely nothing. Nothing that a bottle of mead couldn’t help with. Apparently, you looked as bad as you felt because you didn’t even have to ask for anything before Vekel was sliding a bottle your way. Though, he always was good at picking up on those sort of things. “One the house, for a job well done.” He played it off with that before teasing, “Don’t get used to it though.”

There wasn’t anything else said between the two of you as he was busy with his work. Even if he wasn’t, there wouldn’t have been a chance to as someone else cut in. “Ah, there you are, bairn!” A familiar voice rang from the other end of the bar. Brynjolf pulled out the stool next to yours and sat in it. “Heard the news. I knew I pegged you right! Probably still feeling a rush from such a flawless job, eh?” He cheered you on with small shake of your arm. All you were able to will yourself to respond with was a grunt and a shrug of your shoulders. This sort of threw him off of his jovial mood, but only for a moment. “Rough trip back?” Brynjolf teased.

“Sure.” You hummed and focused on fiddling with the bottle in your hands. This was interrupted by another hand grabbing the top part of the neck that your hand wasn’t on. “It’s my personal belief that when someone is too upset to drink, then drink is the last thing they need.” Brynjolf said in an uncharacteristically concerned voice. “Do you actually believe that?” You asked as you practically flopped your head over onto your shoulder to look over at him. “Of course I do!” He got a bit of a guilty look before adding, “For everyone else but myself, anyhow.”

Brynjolf stood from his stool and pulled you by the arm to do the something. “In any case, nothing that a good walk around the back of the rat ways can’t help.” He insisted as he started to lead you to the door. “Isn’t there a crazed cannibal living back there?” You asked deadpan. “Well, we aren’t going that far back, bairn! Just a lap around the upper level is all.” Brynjolf chuckled as he opened the door. He managed to get you about ten steps in before you dug your heals in, bringing you both to a halt. “I don’t think I can do this Bryn!” You blurted out. This confused him, so he decided to play it off with a joke. “Walk? You certainly did a passable job of that from the bar to the door. And, I’ve never known a half bottle to-“

“No. This whole guild thing. When I joined, I thought that I would be doing things like picking pockets, maybe hitting a few houses here and there. If there was someone else framed for it, then they would only be in jail for a few days- a week at most. B-but, since I’ve been here, I’ve had to threaten multiple people, destroy entire livelihoods, and hurt people not even involved! That poor guard at the brewery by Whiterun; all he wanted to do was keep people safe, and I poisoned him! The only reason I took the job was to be sure there wasn’t enough to actually kill him! It just-“

“Woah there, bairn! You’ll work yourself into being sick if you keep spouting all those words.” Brynjolf cut off your panicked tirade with a firm hand on your shoulder, put there partially to get your attention and partially because he thought your balance was starting to look unstable. “Now, you’re overthinking all this.” He tried to comfort. “But-“ you started only to be cut off once more. “‘But,’ nothing. Look, if you really want to take all of this personal, then think of the details. For instance, ol’ Sabjorn was basically holding poor Mallus captive. Now, isn’t that a good reason to have him spend sometime behind bars?” He asked. You huffed and sat on the dirty floor before asking, “What about the guard? What did he do to deserve getting food poisoning?” He laughed at what he thought was a silly question and sat down next to you. “That’s your answer. He’s a guard.”

Suddenly, Niruin stuck his head through the still opened door. “So, there are people back here. Vekel asked me to close the door. Doesn’t want to risk skeevers smelling the food.” He explained. Then he looked down at you sitting on the floor and staring at nothing. “What’s with the new one?” He asked. “Just a small case of morals. We’re working through it.” Brynjolf chuckled as he reached an arm around your shoulders and gave your upper arm a few assuring pats. “Oh, I remember when I used to have those. Don’t worry. You’ll get better in no time.” Niruin said sympathetically before leaving and closing the door behind him.

“See?” Brynjolf sounded genuinely happy. “The guild’s got your back! We’re family after all.” You heaved a sigh and slumped against the wall even more. “I dunno…” you mumble. Suddenly, you were turned around by the arm across your shoulders, and the feeling of the cold wall on your back was replaced by the warmth of his chest to yours and his arms that were both wrapping around you. “I do. Told you when we first met I know how size people up. I wouldn’t have gotten you involved if I thought you couldn’t handle it.” You weren’t able to answer, the situation having completely dazed you. Never being one to let silence set in if he wasn’t sneaking, Brynjolf gladly kept talking. “Besides, as you might have guessed, I’m starting to get a bit attached. If you really wanted to leave, I’d be there fighting you the entire way out the door.”

This wasn’t an unwelcome turn of events, but nonetheless a surprising one. Because of this, all you could think to do in return was to move your hands to hold him like he was holding you, albeit not as tightly. “Look at that! You’re still here after all! I was starting to think you’ve gone completely limp on me.” Brynjolf laughed. He sat with you like this for another minute, enjoying the rare soft moment in his life. Finally, he leaded back, arms still wrapped around you, but loosening enough so his head wasn’t over your shoulder and he could look at you again. “Divines bless you, bairn! Your face is as red as my beard!” He couldn’t help but tease. It must have been really bad if he could tell even in the dim torchlight of the rat ways. You rolled your eyes at his antics, finally able process your thoughts enough to realize that he was trying to work that rouge-like charm of his on you.

“What? You don’t believe me?” He asked, his fingers ever so gently starting to dig and wriggle at your sides, testing the boundaries of what he could get away with. “Then how about I prove it? I’m sure we could compare the colors if we got them… real…close.” Brynjolf’s lips were now just a breath away from yours, and that breath was catching in you chest.

The door opened again, and Vex who couldn’t be bothered to actually look called in, “Brynjolf!” The Nord in question grumbled a moment at the intrusion. But, he still quickly let you go, and replied. “Aye, right here. What is it?” Vex, still not wanting to put in the effort of looking around the door, but lowering the volume of her voice now that she knew he was nearby curtly said, “Mercer wants you to handle something, soon as your able.” She left, not pulling the door all the way closed behind her, assuming he was going to be right behind.

Brynjolf stood from the floor and pulled you up as well. “Well, duty call, I suppose.” He huffed and brushed off his pants a bit. Stopping himself when he started to turn toward the door, Brynjolf looked back at you, a devious glint to his eyes. “Oh, yes. I almost forgot.” The hand that was suddenly on the back of your head showed you what he almost forgot when it tangled into your hair and used the hold to push your mouth onto his. He took the kiss as deep as it could go in the few seconds he had to spare for it, his beard bristling against you sending your nerves sparking at the extra sensation. When he pulled away, he took a moment to brush a thumb across your cheek and take in your glazed over features. Turning to the door, this time actually walking out, he covered for you both by saying, “Just let me know if you have anymore questions about anything.”

Not having anything else you could do, you composed yourself for a few minutes then walked back out to the bar and sat down again. You finished the other half of your now slightly stale mead, and planned on asking for another when a fresh bottle was slid your way. You looked up to see Vekel standing by the box he kept the mead in, giving you a knowing look. “On the house.” He said as he turned to clean a few tankards. “I thought you told me not to get used to that.” You teased. “I can tell you need that one more than you needed the first one.” Was his answer from where he was working. You might not have looked as composed as you thought you did. But, then again, Vekel was always good at picking up on things.

#brynjolf x reader #skyrim brynjolf #skyrim brynjolf x reader

[beansandsprouts]

Enough

Dean Winchester x fem reader

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Next chapter

Summary: When a hunt starts to get tough, you call in Mary for help. Dean tags along, interested in meeting this hunter his mom won't stop talking about.

Warnings: violence, blood, cursing

Sidenote: crocottas are monsters that appear human and are said to lure their victims into the woods by mimicking the voices of their loved ones so that they can consume their soul.

You'd been investigating this case the last two days. The first day you figured out it was a crocotta. The second day you figured out it was actually two.

After just barely making it out of the forest, you made your way back to your motel room and bandaged your wounds. You'd tripped while trying to escape in the dark and had a nasty scrape on your forearm, and there was a nasty bite on your neck. They'd almost gotten you, you were lucky to be able to fight them off.

You sighed, you would not be able to do this alone. You were a good hunter. A great one even. But even you couldn't take on two crocottas without help.

You turned on your phone and scrolled through your short list of contacts before finding the one you wanted.

The phone rang three times before she picked up.

"Hey y/n."

"Hey Mary, I'm having some trouble on a case and could use yours and Bobby's help."

"Yeah sure! Fill me in."

"Two crocottas."

"Two? You're sure?"

"Considering they both tried to eat my soul, yes I'm sure."

"Bobby's out on a case with a different hunter, so I'll have to bring one of my sons."

"Bring whoever you want. We could use plenty of hands on this one."

"You got it. Text me where you are and we'll leave as soon as we can."

"You're a lifesaver Mary, thank you."

A few hours later and there was a knock on your door. You opened it to be greeted by Mary and two men standing behind her.

"Mary! Thank you so much for coming!" You said as you moved in for a hug. Mary hugged you tightly before you stepped aside to let them in.

"These are my boys, the tall one is Sam and the other is Dean."

"Nice to meet you." You smiled at them, looking them up and down.

Sam's long hair was tucked behind his ears and he offered you a kind smile.

Deans chiseled jaw and nice build certainly caught your eye. He was definitely your type. However, you didn't really think it was a great idea to try and hook up with your friends son.

"So, two crocottas?" Dean asked.

"Yup."

"They usually hunt on their own. Strange to have two in one spot, let alone to have them work together."

"You're telling me," you responded, "I've never seen anything like it."

"Alright, we've got our gear, ready to go?"

"Dean she's injured we should wait until tomorrow." Sam argued.

"No no it's fine. I'm ready to go."

"Honey are you sure? We can wait." Mary murmured to you.

"Yes, I'm good. I want those fuckers dead." You grinned.

The four of you practically fell into the motel room when you'd gotten back. The fight with the two wendigos had been brutal, and everyone had injuries. You pulled out your first aid kit, first tending to yours and Mary's wounds before turning to Dean while she helped Sam.

"Nah I'm ok." He said trying to wave you off.

"Dude, just let me see your arm. You definitely need stitches, that thing cut you pretty good."

"Listen to her Dean." Mary scolded.

Dean sighed and peeled off his flannel, leaving him in a black short sleeve, which you rolled up over his shoulder. You were right, it had cut him pretty good. Three jagged slashes adorned his bicep, though they weren't bleeding anymore.

You wet a cloth to clean up the blood around the area, then disinfected the wounds. Dean hissed in response.

"Sorry. The stitches are gonna hurt too." You muttered.

"Just get it over with."

You carefully stitched up his wounds, ensuring that they wouldn't come undone unless he really exerted himself.

Dean took this opportunity to really get a look at you. You had a small cut on your cheek, probably from running into a branch or a bush. Your eyes were focused, glued to his arm. He looked at the way your jaw curved and the way the strands of hair that'd come out of your ponytail framed your face. You were beautiful, he thought.

You'd been very sweet and encouraging since he'd met you, joking around in the car on the drive to the forest edge. You'd even teased Sam a bit. You had watched their backs out there, and had actually saved his ass. Seeing the difference between the kind and caring you right now and the bloodthirsty ruthless you he'd seen taking down those crocottas gave him whiplash. It was like you were a completely different person.

"Done!" You sat back and admired your handiwork, giving Dean a smile.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." You said as you began packing your stuff up.

"So...where you off to next?" Sam asked.

"Not sure yet," you replied, "I'll probably stay here a few more days until I find another case and then hit the road."

"Well, if you wanted, you could come stay with us." He offered.

"Huh?"

"We've got plenty of room in the bunker, and I'm sure it'd be nice to have a home base. A bed to call your own." Mary piped up.

"And we could use skill like yours on the regular."

"I don't know, I'm more of a lone wolf type of girl." You chuckled.

"That's fine, we're not asking you to go with us on every hunt. Just come join us so we can ask you for help if needed." Sam explained.

You hesitated. Sure, it would be nice to actually have your own room. A place you could call home. A safe place you could go to. But at the same time, you hadn't relied on anyone in years. Not to mention, you really weren't going to be around for a whole lot longer.

"Please, y/n?" Mary whispered.

You looked up at her.

"I worry about you. You're on your own, no one to rely on. It's less likely for something to happen if you come stay with us."

You sighed. She wasn't going to let up on this, and she'd gotten her boys in on it too. And from what you'd heard, they were more stubborn than she was.

"Fine. I'll go."

Mary's face lit up and she pulled you into a hug. Sam grinned and Dean looked pleased.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

You'd chosen a room at random, not realizing yours was right next to Dean's. You put your stuff away, you didn't have much so it didn't take very long. Then went and showered before joining the others in the main room.

"There you are," Mary said as you walked in, "I want you to meet Castiel and Jack."

"The angel and the nephilim." You said, looking between the gruff man and the bright blond boy. They both eyed you curiously.

"Mary talks about you all a lot." You shrugged.

"Well it's nice to meet you. She talks about you a lot too." Jack said.

"She does?" You blinked.

"All the damn time," Dean chuckled, "You'd think she's your mother."

You laughed and sat down at the table, taking a sip of the beer Dean passed to you.

"It's a nice place. How the hell did ya find it?"

"Long story. Used to belong to this group called the Men of Letters. Pretty useful stuff in here. Has all the lore you could ask for." Sam explained.

"Cool." You nodded.

"So how'd you get into hunting?" Jack asked.

"Yeah I was wondering," Sam said, "Mom talks about you a lot but she never mentioned how you got into this life."

"Ah...yeah. Well about 8 years back a werewolf broke into my parent's house and killed them. He was one of a long string of deaths in town so obviously some hunters came to investigate. Long story short they gave me the talk and took me in and taught me everything they knew. They were killed during a case a few years ago."

"I'm sorry, that's a tough way to get into it."

You shrugged, "It's alright. Keeps me sane honestly. I don't think I could just go around living a normal life knowing that there's things out there like that killing people."

"I get that." Sam murmured.

The table went quiet. You bit the inside of your cheek before standing.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed. Thank you guys for having me out here. Night."

A chorus of goodnights sounded in the room and you walked off to yours. You cuddled up in bed and waited to fall asleep. Not too long later you heard the door of the room next to yours shut.

Maybe it would be nice having actually friends. If they were anything like Mary, you'd definitely treasure them.

----------

Shoot me a dm if you want to be tagged for updates!

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #mary winchester #jack winchester