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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 7 months

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How You Turn My World; Chapter 3

As the reality of your situation sets in, you try your best to survive in the Underground... and find a way out. Little do you know though, someone else is trying to find you.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, getting more into the meat and bones of this fic

Content Warnings; Swearing

Word Count; 3.2 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Do not put my work into AI - I will push you into the Bog of Eternal Stench

Your night for the most part was uneventful. The horrid screaming had thankfully went in the opposite direction, away from your tree-top abode. Although throughout the night, little crowds of glowing eyes had amassed at the bottom of the tree, but they made no attempts to reach you. Even though they couldn’t reach you, you couldn’t help but feel unnerved, since all you could see was their eyeshine, and hear them chittering to each other.

Great, they’re probably pointing and laughing at the new fool in town. ‘Oh, look, Jim, a new plaything! Don’t they look stupid hanging in a tree like that? Fufufu.’ But you kept quiet, and just watched them, as much as they did you, making sure they didn’t try any funny business.

They didn’t stay for long though, either leaving due to their curiosity being quenched, or from how boring you were trying to be; silent, and watching, not moving. If worse came to worse, you would have started chucking rowan berries at them; if fae don’t like the tree, they probably wouldn’t like the berries either.

Eventually, the dark night dissolved into the dim glow of dawn, and once you could actually make out your surroundings and it wasn’t just one large mass of darkness, you started making your way down the tree. You were a bit proud of yourself, seeing that you had 1) survived the night, and 2) not fallen out of the tr—

Snap! … you celebrated too soon, since the branch you were using as a foothold gave way, and you tumbled your way to the ground. At least the fall wasn’t too high up, but it still stung like a bitch, and you’d definitely have a bruise; both to your body and your ego.

At least there was no one around to see you eat dirt.

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes, and smacked your cheeks; fighting off sleepiness. Focus; you need to get home. Read the damn book Mr. Sparkles gave you… damn prick is probably gonna call in a favour later…

With a still sore butt, you found a mossy rock that looked somewhat comfortable and sat down, opening up your ‘How Not to Die in Fairyland; For Dummies!’ book (not really the name of it, but it was damn close).

“Chapter nine; how to leave the Underground,” you muttered, flipping to the page. Weird, it’s only one page?

“While leaving the Underground is possible, it is a task that not many have accomplished.

Of the possible ways include;

Finding a portal; typically an enchanted faerie ring, or royal portal.

Finding a fae and tricking them into owing you a favour

One should leave the Underground before their thirteenth day. Should you stay beyond thirteen days you will not be able to leave the Underground, and will be a permanent resident.”

You shut the book, taking in a deep breath. What has it been, ten hours? It was hard to tell, the blurring of time. But at least you had a rough time of twelve days to find a portal — or have a fae owe you a favour — and get the hell back home. If worse came to worse, you were not above some benign trickery so you could see your idiots again.

…

Lilia had arrived home safe and sound, slept in his warm bed, and had some of his … delightful home cooking before he was due back at the castle. And while he was eating the somehow overcooked yet still raw eggs, he couldn’t help but wonder how the little Beastie was doing; how you were doing.

He didn’t technically owe you any favours, since he had given you that handy dandy book — if anything, you owed him, since you did say ‘thanks’ and everything — but curiosity is a fickle thing, and you seemed interesting. Humans typically reacted more when they ended up here, and made no proper moves to ensure that they made it back. But you, the little Beastie? Lilia saw a fire in your eyes, of both ire and determination. You wouldn’t give up easily, and while it was entertaining, he also knew that trouble could, and most likely would, follow wherever you go.

Last time a human like you ended up in the Underground… it didn’t end well (said human nearly burnt the Queen’s labyrinth down to the ground). Hopefully though, you didn’t prove to be as foolish, or as obsessed with fire as the last human. Who knows, maybe you would even escape! If you didn’t though, the court could use a new fool, and you seemed amusing enough to please their majesties whilst not incenting their ire.

“Hmm, wonder if their majesties have felt the intrusion,” Lilia hummed to himself, cleaning up his dishes. He could easily just magic it away, but the trip to the mortal realm had taken a lot out of him, so he was stuck doing some good old fashioned manual labour, not that he really minded. Doing the dishes was better than being digested by some mangy, overweight, cat.

A crack of lightning sounded outside, disrupting the otherwise beautiful and peaceful day. “That answers that question!” Lilia sounded too cheerful for what many fae considered to be a bad omen, as lightning rarely meant a good thing when it concerned the royal family.

A raven came to rest on the windowsill, eyes glowing green; a messenger.

Lilia tapped its beak, letting the message play.

“General Vanrouge, I require you to apprehend the trespasser on our land, lest they taint the soil,” the raven recited Queen Maleficia’s message. “Shall you deem it necessary to use drastic measures, so be it… To call this number back, place a coin into the raven’s mouth. To save this call—”

Lilia groaned, but coughed up a bronze coin so that the Queen didn’t send more ravens to his house on his day off. “Our guest shall be dealt with swiftly, I assure you of that.” Lilia ended his call, the raven blinked, coughed out the coin, and flew off in a ruckus of cawing.

He sighed, and cracked his back. “Hopefully our guest can understand… and not hit me with a broom this time.” With a snap of his fingers, Lilia poofed into his trademark green sparkles, and he was a bat again. Instead of being lost in the mortal realm though, he was off to find you, who was most likely lost in the Underground… hopefully you didn’t get eaten or fell into the bog again, since he doubted the Queen would want a dead(?) or putrid smelling guest.

“Beastie, Beastie, Beastie, wherever could you be?”

…

“Where the hell am I,” you wheezed. You had been walking for a good bit, since hey, the bog really smelled bad, plus you didn’t want to stick around long enough where the creature that was screaming last night decided to come back and make an appetizer out of you. So, you were walking. Where to? You had no idea, all you knew was that you needed to find a portal somehow, of the mushroom variety, or royally produced.

Currently, you were fighting gravity and making your way up a steep hill, but you knew you would be able to see over the dense forest canopy once you reached the top, and maybe, just maybe, you would be able to make sense of your bearings. Would you know where you were once you reached the top? Pfttt, no, but at least you would know what exactly was around. A sulfuric rotten egg-smelling swamp was one thing, but you wouldn’t be all too surprised if you found out there was a man-eating daisy patch or some other nonsense here.

Finally, you made it to the top of the hill, and you caught your breath before looking out towards the horizon. To the north, the sea of trees continued for what seemed forever. East, the trees made their way into a grassy plateau where there seemed to be a village of some sort in the distance; quaint. South, uh, the swamp, definitely not going back that direction, you’ve had enough of that swamp. And west, a castle, surrounded by a maze.

“An enchanted faerie ring or royal portal,” you muttered, weighing your options.

You had about twelve days left to get out of this place. You could spend those twelve days trying to find a so-called ‘faerie ring’ in the forest since those things were mushroom circles, but the chances of finding an enchanted one seemed to be slim to none. On the other hand, castles usually equaled royalty, which would equal portal. Knowing royals though, they were probably batshit insane. Also, if they felt like you were lying or trying to dupe them? Hey, they could apparently turn you into a slug or some other easily squishable being if they wanted to. And you really didn’t want to be turned into a slug… now at the moment at least.

“Forest,” you looked at the forest, “or castle?” You could also go east, but the grassland didn’t exactly scream portal potential or had any rowan trees (or any trees for that matter). “That is the question. Look for weird mushrooms and maybe get eaten by some critter, or potentially piss off some royal and end up as said critter. Hmmm.”

You groaned, and flopped down to the ground; both options weren’t all that appealing, or even guaranteed that you would find a portal. Rolling over to your stomach, you opened up the book again, seeing if it had anything that could help you make up your mind on the options in front of you.

Scanning over the table of contents, there was nothing about where to find a portal in the woods. There was, however, a handy dandy chapter on fae etiquette, including government specifications…

You looked up towards the castle again, eyeing the maze. And started coughing out into laughter at your situation. “Pfttt, didn’t I wish that the Goblin King would whisk me away from my life,” you wheezed. “And here I am! In the fucking Underground with a labyrinth?!” Your laughing subsided into a tired sigh, and you set your eyes back towards the castle. “The irony is astounding really.”

At least you didn’t have to worry about some baby being turned into a goblin… right?

No, no, you only wished for yourself to be taken away, no one else. But would that mean you would end up as a goblin? Fae? Or as some weird pet or servant to a fae? Hopefully not… and at least you had the somewhat credible book that Mr. Sparkles gave you.

Shit, I owe him a favour though… CURSE YOU SARCASM!!!!

Well, maybe Mr. Sparkles will cut you some slack, since ya know, you did save him from Grim… but you also did hit him with a broom… and insulted him… I am so fucked, aren’t I?

…

You eventually got to the entrance of the maze (the labyrinth?), and sat down on a bench outside of it, huffing and puffing. “Does everything want to–” you stopped that sentence, knowing your luck, if you said it out loud, it was bound to happen. “Never mind that…”

“Never mind what?” A voice said to your right.

You shot up and whipped your head around, coming face to face with a door(?) with a face. “I-”

“You never mind!” A second voice said, and on your left was another door, sending its counterpart a dirty look. “You know better than to meddle in such affairs!”

The right door, which was a weathered red, rolled its eyes at its neighbour. “Bah! Curiosity killed the cat-”

“But satisfaction brought it back. I know!” The left door, a brilliant blue, huffed. “Ignore them, they do this to everyone.” They sneered (if doors could sneer) to their neighbour. “Don’t you have anything better to do than trick people?”

Did I just get in between these two during something?

The red door got offended, turning even redder by some means. “Like you should be one to talk! ‘Oh my dear traveller, one of us two doors is a liar and does nothing but lie! Do not let my neighbour fool you!’ It’s the same every single time with you!”

It’s giving bitter divorced couple who for some reason still live with each other—

“I would do no such thing!”

“LIAR!”

“NO YOU ARE THE LIAR!”

You groaned, their bickering was starting to give you an all too familiar migraine. “Will both of you shut up?!”

Both of the doors tch-ed at your remark but stopped their nonsensical arguing, and you rubbed at your temple, easing away the building tension. But they turned their attention to you, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and something else… doors couldn’t be fae… right? The book didn’t say anything about talking doors… could they be portals? It couldn’t be that easy, nothing was ever that easy.

“Did anyone ever teach you any manners, mortal?” The red door huffed, turning its nose up at you.

The blue door looked at you with a similar expression, “Yes yes, awfully rude you know! Lucky it's just us though, and not the mistress. Oh ho ho! She would turn you into a newt for that!”

I wasn’t too wrong about them turning me into a slug I guess… would a newt be an upgrade in this case? Since they have bones—

“And you’re a door,” you deadpanned, “you both haven’t been polite either, ya know?” You had better things to do than kissass to two sentient doors, so no, you weren’t going to be polite. “So the sooner you tell me which way to go, the sooner I’m out of your… splinters?”

The doors grumbled but didn’t raise any objections.

“As you may have overheard, one of us is a liar,” they both said at once. “One of us will lead into the labyrinth, whereas the other will lead you back to where you started your journey.” They both chuckled, looking at you with amusement. “It is up to you to decide which is which.”

You looked between the two doors, weighing your options. “And what if I just walk into the labyrinth? What happens then?”

The blue door hummed, “Well, it would eat you!” … why did it sound all too cheerful about that?!

“So I don’t really have any other option then, do I?”

“Nope!~” They both gave you cheerful smiles, and you were half tempted to go off into the woods and find that magic portal by your lonesome. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with a pair of divorced doors, and a human-eating labyrinth that belonged to some mistress that would turn you into a newt if she felt like you were being snippy with her.

You sighed. Of both the doors, the blue one seemed more sympathetic, whereas the red door was more harsh… “Okay, red, open sesame!”

The red door looked shocked that you picked it over its counterpart, but it opened nonetheless. The blue door grumbled that you had chosen its neighbour over it, but stayed quiet.

When the door opened, all you could see was black.

“Do you actually lead anywhere?” You threw a rock in, but no sound came out.

The red door was silent though; apparently, when it was open, it couldn’t talk. And while you didn’t miss the bickering, you really wanted answers, and the blue door wasn’t saying anything either.

Sighing, you walked forward, hoping that you had chosen the right door. Once both of your feet were over the threshold, light started to filter in. Did I choose right?! But before you got too ahead of yourself, you felt the ground give way under you, and you were falling; falling towards an all too familiar sulfuric-smelling bog.

“SHI-”

…

You were back in the bog of eternal stench, and spitting the rotten egg-tasting water out of your mouth again. And this time, Mr. Sparkles wasn’t here to make you magically smell better either. Nope, you were stuck smelling horrible until you could find a change of clothes.

Crawling out of the water, you grumbled and hissed curses towards that red door. Of course, you would end up here again! Why not! Laugh it up, Underground! Laugh it up!

“I hate it here,” you seethed, wringing out as much water as you could from your clothes.

Shit, the book! But the book was still dry… Fuck you, book. Fuck. You. Of course, the book would stay free of wet and stench, whereas you were now shivering, since the water was frigid, plus you were angry and embarrassed that you had been deceived.

It was no use though just sticking around here lamenting and fuming. So you hoisted yourself up and marched back to the labyrinth; and even though the trip was a good three hours, your anger and pettiness drove you forward.

“YOU-” you hissed, pointing a finger at the red door.

The red door looked at you, looked to its blue neighbour, and then back at you before it started laughing. “I see someone took a little dip-”

You got up in its face, “Fuck you, asshole.” You turned around and marched up to the blue door. “Open up,” you cracked your knuckles, not breaking eye contact. And either your intimidation worked, or your smell was so offensive that the door just wanted you gone; weaponizing the stench works wonders against prissy doors.

“Th-” You remembered your first blunder; do not thank the fae. “You are too kind.” And you stepped through the blue door, which was as dark as the red one, but once the door closed, you didn’t find yourself back in the damned bog. You were now in the labyrinth, and perhaps a step closer to finding a way home.

…

Lilia found himself in the bog, looking around for the Beastie (you). But they were nowhere to be found, save for a wet spot on the grass and some torn-up moss.

“Ah,” he suppressed a laugh, “they fell in again, I see. Poor Beastie.” At least they’ll be easier to find.

He summoned a glass orb, a looking glass of sorts, and looked inside of it. “Show me the human,” he whispered, sprinkling it with some green magic. “And show me their location.”

The glass orb multiplied into three. The first orb showed a close-up of your face, an annoyed yet determined look on your face. The second orb showed that you were surrounded by hedges. And the third and final orb showed that the hedges were actually the Queen of the Underground’s personal labyrinth.

“… at least they can’t really run off anywhere.” But this wasn’t a great turn of events. Many people, both human and fae alike, had tried their best to navigate the labyrinth. But it was a fickle thing; you had thirteen hours to reach the castle, and if you didn’t within those thirteen hours? You would be stuck within it, as one of the beings that tried to stop trespassers from reaching the castle.

Lilia pinched the bridge of his nose, “Beastie, what have you gotten yourself into?” And he turned into a bat, flying off to try and find you. While the Queen did want you apprehended, Lilia would rather it be with his own hands, and not be held liable for any further actions or decisions you made.

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @cheezy-moon, @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; After a little break from writing this fic, I'm back! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was only for the pay-phone/raven and the divorced bickering doors!

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #now we can get into building the relationship between these two fufufuffufufu #mr sparkles = lilia | beastie = reader #i wrote 1K of this back in September and the rest in the past two days #too be fair i was feeling a bit burnt out so i did need to step back a bit #but i've been feeling inspired again!!! yippee!!!!#raven; mmmmmm MONEY!!! 'to continue your call-'#*sad trombone noises* reader ended up in the bog again; will they ever smell good again?!#a break from the horrors i'm writing for the twst murder mystery au; back to the labyrinth au!!!#twst labyrinth au #and my fun tags have returned too!!!!

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moonstruckme · 4 months

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can i request poly!marauders x female reader where she gets burnt out easily and most people don't know this cause she like leaves or hides before they can see. So one day they were hanging out all day and she gets burnt out but they don't know what happened so they get all worried when she all of a sudden just looks so drained and tired and can barely smile or anything. Sorry if this doesn't make sense. This happens to me a lot with new friends and because I get so burnt out I sometimes even need other people to explain for me cause talking is even too much. Thank you so much if you do it!! ♡♡♡♡♡I love your fics so much♡♡♡♡

Thanks for requesting gorgeous, love you :)

cw: social burnout

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 948 words

“I just don’t see why they would change them,” James complains, sipping dissatisfiedly at his butterbeer.

“You’re such a creature of habit,” Sirius sighs heavily, but you all know his boredom is for show. He only wants to rile James.

“The old quidditch uniforms were just fine,” James is practically monologuing now, staring into the middle distance with a furrow between his brows. His elbow bumps your arm as he gestures helplessly. “Red and gold—those are the Gryffindor colors, red and gold. So why are the new uniforms bright red and yellow?”

“Maybe so you’re more visible,” you suggest, and Remus’ lips twist amusedly as he leans across the table to sip at your butterbeer. Neither of you had much appetite after your long day of snacking at the quidditch match, so you’d agreed to split one. You’ll admit, you find the two straws poking out of your mug embarrassingly romantic.

“We look tacky,” James grumbles, slumping a bit in his seat. You see Remus’ arm reach under the table, and you know he’s straining to rub his boyfriend’s thigh consolingly. “The gold was so much better.”

“At least you can pull off a yellow like that,” Sirius points out. “Can’t say the same for Callaghan. He looked totally washed out.”

This would be your time to chip in with a comment about how Sirius’ pallid countenance wouldn’t fare so well in the new colors either, but you find you don’t want to. There’s a persistent pressure at your temples. Once you acknowledge it, the rest is impossible to stop. Exhaustion seeps into you like a poison, all the way down to your bones, and you’re done. You’ve been around people—mostly your boyfriends, who you love very much, but people nonetheless—since you woke up this morning, and had talked and laughed and participated all day long, and now you’re done. You want to be home.

“True, but even he looked better than you would have, Pads,” James voices the zinger for you, he and Remus trading entertained looks when Sirius starts spluttering about how he looks good in every color, thank you very much.

“Alright, I can’t have any more of this.” Remus pushes the butterbeer towards you decisively. “All yours, dove.”

You know you haven’t had anywhere near your fair share, but the idea of reaching over, of going through the effort of bringing the straw to your lips, is too much. “Thanks,” you say to him, “I’m good.”

Remus’ brow creases. You feel horribly dramatic.

“I’ll take it,” James says merrily, reaching for the mug before Sirius slaps his hand away.

“Oi, it’s hers.” Sirius gives him a mean look, nudging the butterbeer back towards you. “You’re like a fucking vulture, Prongs. Darling, are you sure you don’t want what’s left? You know he’ll down it in one gulp.”

“I’m sure.” You try to give him a smile, but even you can feel what a flimsy attempt it is. “Thanks anyway.”

Sirius’ expression clouds over with concern, and you look at the table.

“Hey.” James reaches for your hand, squeezing your fingers lightly between his. “What’s up, lovely?”

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Just tired.”

Sirius makes an incredulous sound, and you know what he wants to say even though he doesn’t. Yeah, I can see that. “Did something happen?” he asks instead.

You frown, hating that you don’t have a more satisfying answer. “No.”

“Dove,” Remus tries to get your attention from across the table. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine, honey.” James’ voice is soft, but you can hear the unease in it. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” He touches the back of his hand to your forehead, then lets it slip down to your cheek. “Maybe it was the butterbeer. Rem, are you feeling alright?”

“I feel normal,” Remus says, seeming at a loss.

“Hey.” There’s a hand on your leg, and you look up to see Sirius leaning towards you, giving you one of his stern looks. “What’s going on with you, huh? Talk to us.”

“I’m fine, seriously.” You do your best to look it, sitting up from James’ shoulder, though your dull voice belies your words. “I’m just drained.”

“Drained how?” he presses.

“Just…done.” You shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry, I think I want to go home. I just need to be by myself for a little bit, is that okay?”

“Of course,” Remus says, standing and grabbing his coat. “You don’t have to be sorry, dove. It was just a long day, is that it?”

You nod, relieved.

He shrugs on his own coat before grabbing yours, helping you into it when you slide out of the booth. “I understand. It’s been a lot of socializing for one day. You should have told us you were feeling tired, I could have gone home with you after the game.”

“I didn’t know until it just happened,” you say, but you don’t have the energy to really argue.

Remus doesn’t want to, either. He kisses the top of your head as he zips your coat, taking your hand in his.

“We’ll get you home and you can hole up as long as you need,” Sirius promises, pulling on his gloves. “You introverts, so weak.”

“She’s probably drained because of you,” James teases back. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side.

“That’s not how it works,” you say quietly, but James shushes you, dipping down to kiss the side of your head.

“I know, angel, but if you say it is, he’ll be buying your butterbeers for the next week. The month, if you play it right.”

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frenziedfireworks · 10 months

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Bad Days

Bad Days with HP Boys!

(Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter)

CW : Mentions of anxiety (Fred), Draco being a lil inept to feelings, Ron being a bully (Draco), cheesy pet names, GN!Reader

Fred Weasley :

Fred can tell what mood you're in most of the time. If you’re in a really shit mood he will baby you.. If it’s not as bad he will go for jokes and humor instead.

“Babe look at me” “I’m not in the mood Fred” “Just look”

He will blow himself up with some fireworks to prove his point and make you happy (much to your disagreeance)

He will do anything you need.. ANYTHING. Just ask.

You had laid on the couch with your thoughts for what felt like hours. You still felt as anxious as when you started your ‘calming’ routine. You didn’t know why nothing was working today and everything felt off. Even normal and casual things had become the pinnacle of impossibility.

“Ahem. Y/N, I would like to welcome you to the one and only show. A secret show just for you!” Your boyfriend bowed, his hands working at lighting sparklers. You watched as he did a silly jig, painting small pictures of hearts with the sparklers. The lights went out and he set the burnt sticks on the counter. Kneeling down to be level with the couch his hand brushed your cheek.

“Did you like my show, bunny?” His lips tickled against yours as he stole more than a few fair shares of kisses. You couldn’t help but grin into him as he attempted to crawl beside you.

“Babe you are too big to fit on that tiny portion of the couch.”

“Watch me.”

George Weasley :

George picks up on your mood right away.

He drops anything and everything and drags you to his bed

“The universe was telling me it’s cuddle time” “Is that so”

He will NOT let you out of bed.. Just accept your fate

“Fuck me.” You grunted as you walked into the living room. You had not had the best day at work and it seemed to only get worse. Your coworker had spilled coffee on you and then you got splashed with mud on your small walk back to the house.

“Well don’t you look ravishing. Mud really suits your eyes, darling.” George snorted as you shrugged off your coat and shoes. You rubbed a hand over your face and sighed. You started walking to your shared bathroom hoping to get rid of the reminder of said shit day.

“Baby, stop for a minute!”

You turned ever so slowly to George’s frame which stood tall right behind. You raised an eyebrow.

“Take a shower and then come to bed, yeah? I need to treat you to some signature Weasley cuddles. They’re known to cure anything.” He leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips and winked, leaving you alone to your thoughts. You felt yourself as you smiled just a tiny bit. He was something else.

Draco Malfoy :

“What’s got you all pissy” (He didn’t mean it he swears)

The moment he realizes you are not just being sassy/sarcastic he is chasing you down

“Babe I’m so sorry what’s wrong”

I feel like Draco has a lot of bad days and knows how it feels so he just sits and listens

He holds your hand/rubs his fingers across your palm.

“I’m sorry darling, you’ll always have me”

You walked out of Potions class absolutely fuming. The audacity of Ron Weasley to purposefully blow up your cauldron and then laugh at you! You had held back a few choice words and hexes, stomping away to be alone. You jumped as you hit something hard and a hand wrapped around your torso.

“Geez, love. Are you mad enough?” Draco smirked and you growled. You smacked your boyfriend's arms away and started sprinting.

“Wait-Wait! Y/N!” Draco yanked at your shoulder forcing you to come to a halt.

“What in the world is wrong? I didn’t mean that to be rude. I’m sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. This day just kept getting worse and worse. You knew he didn’t mean any harm but you were already so wound up that it felt like a gate came crashing down.

“Everything! Fucking potions is a mess. Ron decides to blow up my cauldron and Snape gives me a lecture.. I can’t get a fucking break.” You crumbled to the floor as the sobs continued.

“I’m just sick of this, Dray.”

His hand wrapped around yours, fingers running soothing circles on your skin.

“I know, love. It’ll get better.”

Harry Potter :

He just raises an eyebrow and takes you outside

“Where are we going Harry?” “Thought you’d like to clear your mind, love”

He just lets you talk for the most part and rubs your back while the two of you walk

Once you get it all out he will give you a little forehead kiss and make sure you’re all better :))

“Hey-” Harry startled you, your teary eyes meeting him. It had really not been your day and the last thing you wanted was for your boyfriend to find you like this.

“Harry, I-”

He shushed you, hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you up from your hiding cubby. He rubbed away at the teardrops that stained your cheek and sighed. You could tell he was worried to have found you that way but more concerned on getting you better.

He stepped away and held his arm out for you to take. The two of you fell into step as he led you out the back of the castle and onto the green grass of the highlands. The wind felt nice against your skin and you felt more at peace with Harry’s warmth next to you.

“Thank you. I really needed this.” You murmured and gave the boy a small smile when he met your stare. He gave you a reassuring hug and hummed.

“Anything for you. Come to me next time, okay?”

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pitchsidestories · 7 months

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invisible string II Lucy Bronze x Reader

a/n: based off this request.

"Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?"

~ Taylor Swift, invisible string

barcelona women masterlist I word count: 3264

North Carolina, 2009

To be honest the first time Lucy Bronze stepped into your life was not ideal. For countless reasons. One of them was how you two met back in 2009 in North Carolina. Both of you were foreign students playing for the University’s soccer team. So naturally the changing room was the place of your first meeting.

As the captain of the team, you asked every teammate to introduce themselves at the start of the fresh semester: “And you’re?” “Lucy. Lucy Bronze.”, the dark-haired woman replied while eating. In slight disgust you wrinkled your nose. To yourself you thought who talks when there’s still food in their mouth you asked yourself, but you chose to say out loud:” Pleasure.” “Want a piece?”, the English defender asked with a smile which usually won everyone over even the toughest opponents. Slowly you shook your head:“ No, thanks, training is about to start.”

The truth was you lost your appetite since your girlfriend broke up with you over your phone a few days ago. To be fair Spain and North Carolina was far apart from each other, but you had hoped your love was strong enough to handle this. It turned out you were very wrong about that. Meanwhile Lucy shrugged her shoulders nonchalant:” Fine then.”

In the evening you tried to cook for yourself while equally trying not to cry into your dinner. Someone was standing right behind you, so you turned around to see who it was: “Oh hello Lucia.” “Pretty sure I introduced myself as Lucy. Not Lucia.”, the English woman frowned. Confused you gave her a closer look: “Yes but why don’t you use your Portuguese name then it’s on the squad list?” “Mierda!”,you cursed as you realized you burnt your food while talking to the defender. Worried Lucy asked: “Because I’m English. Do you need help?” “No, maybe I do need a little bit of help. Sorry, I’m not in a good mood lately. My girlfriend back at home in Spain said she could not do this long distance thing but it’s only a year. Nevermind. God, I’m a mess.”, you opened up, not knowing exactly why you did it in front of someone who was still almost a stranger. Maybe that made it easier to talk about it.

The brunette smiled empathetically:” So heartbroken, huh?” “Yes.”, you nodded. With a grin the taller woman demanded in a bossy tone:” I know what helps with that. Move over. I’ll make you some food.”“That’s thank you.”, she took you by surprise with that small act of kindness. “Don’t worry about it.”

Curiously you asked:“ Do you like North Carolina so far?” “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”, she responded to with a grin while staying equally focused on the cooking part. You couldn’t help but to gush about your surroundings:” I agree. It’s crazy that women’s football here is more popular than men’s football, right? Feels like there’s still so much to do back home in Europe.” “Yes, you’re probably right about that.”, Lucy agreed while she secretly found your passion for change inspiring as she too felt like it was about damn time.

Suddenly you changed the topic, wanting to know more about the English woman in front of you: “Can I ask you something? What made you choose defending?” “I just love stopping people from scoring. Always did. When I played with boys, they always underestimated me. They thought I wouldn’t tackle them.”, the brunette replied, visibly amused by that memory of her childhood. “But you proved them wrong.”, you concluded. The defender laughed while she was reminiscing on her past: “I did. I made a few of them cry.” “Oh, really?”, you giggled. The English woman could still see your red eyes from the crying a few minutes ago:”Yeah, but they did cry a lot uglier than you.” “I thought pretty crying doesn’t exist.” “Apparently it does. Here, eat that.”, Lucy demanded.

As you took the first bite you closed your eyes because it tasted simply delicious:” Oh my god, this is really good. Where did you learn to cook like that?” “My mum taught me.”, the dark-haired woman answered proudly. Still with your eyes shut you remarked: “She taught you well.” “Took a long time until I perfected cooking like her.”, the defender confessed with a smile.

Now you opened your eyes again and gave her an sincere look:“Thanks though for the cooking and the talking Lucy. I really needed this tonight.” “No, worries. I had to cook anyway.”, your teammate shrugged it off.

Lucy did enjoy cooking for you although she did not think any further on that because you were clearly in an heartbroken state and she was just happy to focus on football for now and the possible friendship that would evolve from here.

Lyon 2017/18

When you joined Olympique Lyon a year ago, you immediately felt like home in this team. Today, the new signings were supposed to be introduced to the squad and you were determined to make them feel the same way.

You ran into Wendie Renard on your way to the pitch who looked down at you with a smirk; “The newest signing says she knows you, so I thought maybe you could show her around.“ “What? Who is it?“, you asked confused. But the tall defender did not even need to answer. Over her shoulder you could see a familiar face walking towards you. “Lucy? How long has it been? Seven years since North Carolina?“ Without thinking you threw yourself into the arms of your former best friend. Lucy hugged you tight and smiled; “Surprise.“ Slowly, you let go and shook your head in disbelief; “Oh wow. You’re here. I can’t believe it. But can you even speak french?“ Lucy grimaced as if you had personally offended her with that question; “Of course I speak french. I’m well prepared.“ “Really?“. You raised an eyebrow at her which Lucy only answered with a tired smile; “Don’t underestimate me.“ “We’ll see how well you do in training. They refuse to speak english.“, you kept teasing, your arms folded across your chest. But Lucy remained confident; “Not a problem for me.“ “If you say so. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.“, you decided and took a few steps away from Lucy.

The English defender immediately kept up with you; “Alright, I’ll follow you.“ As you walked side by side across the training grounds, you could not stop yourself from looking at Lucys face. It’s been a long time since you have last seen her and those seven years have done something to her. Or has she always looked that good and you just never noticed it? But that smile was definitely still the same.

As you two stepped into the empty gym, you opened your arms in a welcoming gesture; “Welcome to the best club in Europe.“ “It will be even better now.“, Lucy replied self-assured, letting her gaze wander around the room. You acknowledged her answer with an eye roll; “You did not change at all.“

“But you did?”, the defender mocked you. “Yes.” She took a long look at you before saying: “I don’t believe that.” “I’m not the sad, heartbroken young adult anymore.”, you told her. Amused your new old teammate began: “But apart from that.” In her eyes you’ve always been beautiful, and this has not changed over the years you’ve spent apart. Her gaze became a bit too intense for your liking, so you tried to get back into swing with your tour:” So these are the changing rooms.” “They’re quite nice.”, the brunette admitted while taking the view in. Smiling you promised her: ”Wait until you see the other rooms, they are way more exciting.” “Oh yeah?”, Lucy smirked and led you back to the changing room. Dazzled you looked at her:” Yes but Luce that’s not the way!” “Oh yes, it’s. Close your eyes.”, the English woman commanded. Still confused you ask her: ”Why?” “Just do it.”, the defender replied, her voice slightly impatient. A sigh escaped your lips while you closed your eyes in anticipation of what you did not know exactly:“ Okay Fine.” “Good, don’t’ move.”, the brunette said, sounding quite satisfied now. Her tone made you laugh and question what she was doing behind your closed eyes: “I promise I won’t.” “Okay, open them again.”

“What did you do?”, you stared at her slowly realizing what she has been up to. Your teammate couldn’t help but grin cheekily: “I stole your locker.” “Rude, I’ll change that back.”, you scoffed. Laughing Lucy hold you from doing what you announced: “Stop, it’s mine now.” “No, I’ve been here longer than you.”, you started pouting. She threw an innocent look at you: “I thought the newest singing gets to pick.” “You’ll regret that, Bronzy.”, you jokingly warned her before continuing showing her around.

It was matchday and Ada Hegerberg who became one of your closest friends in the team whistled at the sight of you sitting on Lucy’s lap:” Oh look we’ve two new lovebirds.” “What? No, I’m just sitting on my usual place.”, you corrected her and yet your cheeks still turned red at the Norwegian’s comment.

With a smug smile, Lucy tilted her head up at you; “Actually, your place is over there. This is mine now.“ “No, it’s always been hers.“, Ada sided with you. You held up your head in Adas direction; “See!“ But Lucy shook her head vehemently; “Nope. I picked it when I came here.“ You gasped about the fact that she would consider stealing your locker as picking one. “I won’t move.“, you declared stubbornly. The English defender shrugged; “Then we will sit here for a long time.“ Wendie was already impatiently bouncing on her feet, waiting for the game to start; “Come on, you silly girls.“ Seeing your captain ready and focused made you finally give in. Slowly you stood up from Lucys lap; “Coming.“ “Yeah, let’s kick some asses.“, she laughed as she followed you outside.

This game was important and everyone on the field knew it. You played in the midfield, Lucy behind you to your right. Immediately, it felt like back in the US. You knew exactly where Lucy was moving without seeing her and she could read your body language so well that every pass to you was timed perfectly. It still was a hard-fought game, but Ada managed to put the ball behind the keeper, scoring the only goal of the night and winning you the game.

As you walked around the pitch, high-fiving your team mates after the final whistle, Ada stopped you. Her gaze wandered from you to Lucy who stood close by, joking with Wendie; “Your connection is remarkable… It feels like you’re connected by some invisible string. Are you two…?“ Before she could even finish her question, you burst into laughter; „Lucy and me? Oh no.“ “Oh, you’re not?“ “No. We just know each other for a long time.“, you explained, feeling your cheeks flush. Gratefully, you noticed Wendie walking towards you and nudging Ada; „Leave the children alone, Ada.“ Rolling your eyes, you reminded her; “We’re not children anymore.“ “We’re even older than Ada.“, Lucy chimed in. “Exactly.“ Your captain shook her head with a long sigh; “Still children if you two don’t see what’s in front of you.“ “I See a successful season in front of us.“, Lucy replied, gracefully ignoring what Wendie had hinted at. “Oh yes. It will be golden.“, you smiled. The English defender grinned back at you; “With many trophies.“

It turned out that she was right with her prophecy after all. You did win the league but even more importantly you did become the winner of the women’s champions league. What a glorious night in Kiev. Olympique Lyon won 4:1 against Vfl Wolfsburg.

As the referee ended the game you beamingly jumped into Lucy’s arms: “We’re the champions of Europe, Lucy!” “I told you.”, the brunette shouted back equally happy. On your team’s side it was pure happiness, on the other side the german team was devastated. Ecstatically you whispered into your friend’s ear: “We won.” “Yeah, we’re the best.”, the defender nodded proudly.

In that special moment under the night sky, you suddenly felt brave enough to do something which you normally would not have done, because you’d have feared the possible consequences afterwards: “Close your eyes. How does that win feel?” “Amazing. For a lack of better words.”, she told you, still with a huge grin on her face which encompassed all the feelings for which the English woman did not find the words yet. Before you could overthink anymore of it you kissed her while Lucys eyes were still shut down. Surprised the brunette replied to the kiss, first cautiously than more passionately. But Ada interrupted the two of you as she called your name. Your cheeks still red from what just happened you told the blonde: “I’m on my way, Ada!” “Wait..what?”, the defender found her voice again and looked dazzled at you. Shyness overcame you: “I’m sorry, I don’t know how-“ “Oh. It’s fine. Happens to the best of us, right.”, Lucy tried to shrug it off. Nervously you agreed: “Right.” Meanwhile Ada took your hand to lead you to your celebrating teammates.

Wendie who watched you two from afar asked the confused English woman: “Lucy, what was that?” “Why are you asking me? She did that.”, Lucy countered. The French woman glanced at her curiously: “And how did it made you feel?” “It just happened in the excitement. It’s fine.”, Lucy answered. Although her heart felt heavy saying these words. A small smile appeared on Wendie’s lips as she observed: “You look disappointed though.” “I’m not.”, her teammate grumbled. Trying it with a more cheerful tone she added: “Let’s go celebrate with the other ones.”

After a few glasses of champagne, you noticed that Lucy was sitting alone: “Lucy? Why did you stop celebrating?” “Huh? Oh. Just wanted a break.”, the brunette explained. Hurt you commented:” You’re trying to avoid me, right.” “No, I don’t.”, she said stubbornly. “Lucy.” “It’s fine. Really.”, the defender told you. The silence between you two became unbearable so you offered her:“I can leave if you prefer that.”

“No.“, Lucy answered curtly. Confused, you repeated; “No?“ “No, stay.“, she clarified, still not looking at you. You sat down next to her with a sigh; “If you want that.“ “I do.“ As the silence threatened to get too big once again, you gathered your courage and steered the conversation to the obvious topic; “The kiss…“ But Lucy interrupted you before you could finish; “I know. It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.“ She was finally looking at you. Your breath hitched involuntarily. As you spoke, you could feel your jaw tense: “No, it was not an accident. I was just a coward.“ “What do you mean?“, Lucy frowned, equally surprised about the confidence in your voice. “I wanted to kiss you since the start of the season but it always felt like the wrong time… at least that’s what I told myself.“, you admitted.

You had no idea how Lucy would react, but did not expect her features softening as she asked; “Wait. You did?“ “Yeah.“, you confirmed, looking down at the ground. Upon Lucys quiet laugh, you immediately had to look up again. “Shit. You should have done that much earlier then.“ Lightly, you tilted your head; “But what if you didn’t feel the same way and I’d have ruined everything?“ “But I do. So you missed your chance to do it earlier.“, Lucy grinned. “So…?“, you struggled to put your thoughts into words. Amused, Lucy repeated; “So?“ “Was it too late to tell you that?“, you asked carefully. Gently, Lucy slipped her hand into yours; “No, it was the absolute perfect time.“ “Would you give us a try then?“ The defender nodded; “I’d want nothing more.“

There were so many emotions that you could not process at this moment. But there was one thing, you knew you wanted to do; “Can I kiss you again? This time with open eyes?“ “You can kiss me all you want.“, Lucy laughed, tilting her head towards you and waited. You leaned forward, pressing your lips on hers. Her hand rested on your thigh as she deepened the kiss. When you broke apart, she grinned; “I could get used to that.“ “Me too.“, you agreed before Lucy pulled you back into another, longer kiss.

Barcelona 2023

“Hello Aitana and Lucy.”, Sarina Wiegmant greeted the two Barcelona players with a big smile. Only a couple of minutes earlier she has been in a deep talk with their club head coach. Surprised the defender looked at the Dutch woman: ”Coach?” “Oh I was watching you and Keira tonight.”, for a moment the England coach stopped in astonishment than she added, Wait, who’s that?” “Lucy’s wife.”, Aitana answered grinning. Amused Lucy took your hand in hers:” Thanks, Aitana. Yes, that’s my wife.” “I did not knew you had one!”, Sarina gazed startled at the two of you. The defender laughed: “Surprise. I do.” “Why was not she at the World Cup?”, the blonde asked noisily. Her player replied winking: “She’s Spanish.” “That was one reason, the other one is still carried around by Mapi.”, you added grinning. Playfully your wife gasped out loud:” Oh no, don’t tell her!” “No, tell me.”, the Dutch woman demanded. With a sigh Lucy turned to one of your closest friends since childhood:” Wait. Mapi!” “Oh do you want your little girl back?”, the Spanish defender asked smiling innocently, while holding your baby in her arms.

As Mapi mentioned the news, Sarina’s mouth went wide open:“Little girl?” “Yes, she needs to get to know Sarina.”, your wife nodded. Eyerolling the Spanish defender gave the brunette her daughter back:“Fine but she won’t play for England when her time comes the Spanish federation might have changed for the better.” “You don’t actually believe that, do you? She’ll play for England.”, the English woman decided. “Okay but let her at least play for Barcelona.” “We’ll see about that.”, your wife answered.

Meanwhile Sarina cooed over your little girl:” Hello little one, nice to meet you. Don’t listen to those adults talking about your future.” “We’re just making sure, she’ll have a good career.”, Lucy defended her position. Softly her coach looked from your daughter to her: “I know but let her be a child first.” “Don’t worry, we’re just joking. No one’s pushing her into something she doesn’t want to.”, the brunette reassured the Dutch woman. “True, we’re making sure of that.”, you continued. “Very well. So where did you two met?”, Sarina changed the topic. A dreamy look appeared on the defenders face:“A long time ago. We were both playing in the US for North Carolina.” “Really? I played there too. A long time ago.”, the blonde replied amused by that coincidence. “There’s no way, Sarina.”, Lucy chuckled. “But it was a long time before you. I think we might have had the same coach though.” A sound of disbelief came from your lips:” Did you had Dorrance too.” “I did.”, Sarina told you. Almost admiring the defender concluded:“So did Lotte and Alessia, that man taught football generations after generations.” “Who would have thought that.”, you said. “Not me but it’s kinda cool.”, Lucy admitted.

You looked at her and Sarina as you remarked: “It’s like we’re all connected through invisible strings. Somehow we all ended up together at some point in time and place.”

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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year

Text

Yandere Ghost, König, and Soap with a gn darling who has Autism

Warnings: yandere behavior and a bit ooc character; I'm a believer for König having ADHD.

A/N: this was a request but someone deactivated which deleted their ask. Happy Autism awareness month! I'm all extremely proud of you <3

I did my research on Autism but I'm not fully aware of the diagnosis(?). If I offended anyone, that's not what I meant, and please send an ask if I did anything incorrectly.

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

It’s likely that he already knew or saw the signs and decided to research it; which, led him to read a fair amount about autism to connect with you.

However, he’s not a physiatrist and he’s not dumb enough to assume, which leads him to keep it private or not bring it up before you do. Mental and physical health is personal. He won’t dig into your diagnosis unless he views it as harmful. However, once you do feel ready to tell him, he will be incredibly supportive and try his best to learn about your triggers.

When it comes to things that overwhelm you, he’s pretty good at tracking those things. Certain textures and noises are written down and taken very seriously by him.

Don’t like the feeling of jeans? He will make sure not to wear them around you or buy you some.

Hate the sound of cardboard or styrofoam? Simon makes sure not to unbox packages near you or let you be in sight of it.

Protective over a certain object? He will make sure to never use it, and if he does need to, he will ask and won’t get upset if you say no. Consent is taken seriously with this man.

Speaking of consent, He’s pretty clear with it — he won’t touch you. He’s pretty adamant about making sure you don’t feel like a nuisance or try to ‘force’ you to do things with him, including touching. It’s your body, it has rules and he’s gonna respect those. Boundaries are there for a reason.

After a while with you, he’s learned your body language and a few things to communicate with you without spoken words. The two of you have secret signals, certain pulled-up fingers or touches mean certain words; do you need company or alone time? Want to have space or be cuddled with him? Is the room too bright or too loud? Whatever you need, he’ll help out as much as he can.

A plus side with Simon is that he speaks pretty clearly; no unnecessary, soft metaphors with him. He means whatever he says, you don’t have to worry about missing something as he speaks directly with anyone, including you. If he does make a mistake or offend you, he’s more willing to acknowledge his mistake and learn from it. Don’t be afraid to approach him, he can handle it.

If you enjoy parallel play, Simon is someone who enjoys it just as much. He doesn’t mind sitting in the same room with you, just enjoying each other’s presence without talking or engaging with each other and doing your own thing. He feels comfort by being in the same room, simply reading a book, watching TV, or doing work as you do the same. You don’t always need conversation to be comfortable. He respects that of you.

Having little to no eye contact, being blunt/or forward, and getting burnt out in public places easily don’t bother him either. Simon understands that eye contact doesn’t equal attention. He’s also a fan of not big places, he’s a homebody and prefers to be in his safe area with you.

Simon is one of those people who prefers when people speak their minds, and say what they mean. Just get straight to the point, don’t hint at things other than expect others to know the meaning. It’s boring — plus, he gets to understand things easier.

While Simon is incredibly good at being supportive and respecting your boundaries, he sometimes doesn’t understand/or grasp the concept of emotional dysregulation or hyper-empathy.

He doesn’t know what to do if you get upset over something ‘small’. But, with learning like a good husband, he will ask you questions based on what will help you: do you need comfort? If so, how would you like it? Words or physical touch? Or just being in the same room so you can feel at least his presence?

He actually enjoys having certain patterns with you. He likes order and sticking to it, so whenever the two of you go grocery shopping or out in public, he will follow right behind you like a guard dog as he shuffles around people in the aisles; making sure nobody touches you or gets in your way; he will help guide you, a hand on your hip as he follows you around.

Gives you his full attention whenever you’re talking about something you are very passionate about — whatever it’s about, he hums along and asks questions to know more. He likes learning new things from you and may share some things of his own! He enjoys seeing you happy about the hobbies you are joyful about.

When the world becomes too loud for you and a bunch is going around you, Simon will pull you somewhere quieter, allowing you to have a moment by yourself to recollect; helping you with breathing patterns, or asking you questions to help you in some way.

Ghost is deadly serious about protecting you. If anyone gives you weird looks or dares to say anything, he will look at them until they get scared and walk away — he’s not afraid to throw fists if they dare approach you.

Stimming? Simon is happy that you’re expressing yourself, as long as you’re not physically hurting yourself, he won’t mind you doing your own thing. He enjoys it rather.

He doesn't mind if you are fiddling with his fingers, repeatedly pulling at your clothing, or tapping your fingers at the dinner table as the two of you eat; rarely do these habits annoy him. He actually encourages these stims.

König:

Extremely supportive and understanding. He will make sure to learn about it, as well as ask you frequent questions on what things can/will trigger you. You’re his spouse, a person he’s admired and loved, he’s willing to do anything to help you, including with your troubles.

König can relate to some of your daily struggles. While he knows that he’s not autistic, he does have ADHD and anxiety which causes some things to clash with yours: hyperfixations, certain textures that make your skin crawl, stimming, and fidgeting, or rejection sensitivity. There’s a whole lot more to go on with, but to an extent, König can understand you while he’s prone to help you.

If you ever feel overwhelmed, even in the place of a restaurant or going shopping, and need to leave, he will utmost support you and never let you apologize.

Shopping can happen another day, he can go down there and finish it later; you are always his top priority. Eating at a restaurant is for fun, and you are not ruining it. Today wasn’t your day, tomorrow is another day that we can try.

Is super respectful, even with touching you and approaching your space. He’s always been a gentle giant, no matter how many years the two of you have been together since kidnapping.

If you don’t want to be touched, he won’t be affected by it and will respect you. Boundaries are always heard, loud and clear with this man.

With König, he’s shy — sometimes his body language can be too stiff and he can’t say the right words without stuttering or making a mess of himself. However, he will try to learn to be more straightforward with you, especially with being needy or wanting kisses.

Stimming around him is completely normal, as he does it. He’s fine with you swinging his arms around when holding hands, singing along to a song that he hasn’t heard before, or continuously pacing in the house. Whatever you feel comfortable doing, please do it; much like Ghost, he encourages your stimming.

They’re simply a part of you, which he adores like the others. As long as you’re not physically hurting yourself, he won’t engage and leave you alone with your own thing.

If you’re hyper-fixated with certain things, whether that’s about the 18th century, bugs and reptiles, or rocks/minerals, König will go out of his way to surprise you with things you enjoy.

He enjoys it whenever you decide to tell him random hobbies or facts throughout the day. He actually looks forward to knowing things because of you! Especially if it’s about animals or different countries, he gets infested and may ask more about it, which leads to date nights on researching different topics with each other!

Patterns and cleanliness can be incredibly important for some people. While König will try his best to be as clean as he can, sometimes he forgets. He’s not the messiest giant. But he’s also not the cleanest perfectionist.

With that being said, König will do specific types of jobs in the home to help you: going as far as folding clothes, vacuuming, cleaning and disinfecting the bathroom, or doing the dishes. Whatever you feel uncomfortable doing, leave it up to him!

However, if the two of you are outside, König is more than protective of you. As much as he can understand you can handle yourself, he will not stand people making fun of you or simply staring at you. König will, and can approach people with a look of pure evil; he’s not gonna stand around and make you feel unsafe or uncomfortable without doing something about it.

König, like any husband, will be incredibly patient with you. If you are shopping, he never hurries you whenever you are looking at the shelves of candles, even if you choose the same one every time.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

He’s pretty nonchalant about the whole thing; he doesn’t really mind. Not to say that he will ignore your needs and issues, but he sees you as you. Your autism doesn’t make him think differently of you, you are still his spouse; he loves you regardless.

With the help of the internet, asking your family/or friends, and yourself, he will learn ways to comfort you and engage things with you without offending or triggering you. Whatever you need, he will get you in a few minutes: fizzy drinks, water, your comfort blanket and plushie, or comfort food.

Any activity you engage in, Soap tries to be with you as you are interested in it. Do you like reading books? He will collect as much as he can and take some time off to enjoy quiet time with you.

Love collecting miniature accessories to decorate your office? Soap will find some rare pieces and give you some.

Love popping bubble wrap? He will collect it as he gets packages in the mail, going as far as to buy you some online. At best, you'll have a few months worth.

Soap is big on encouraging your stimming in front of him and not masking. While he does understand that neurodivergent people mask to fit in society, he wants you to be you. He doesn’t want you to hide away, even if you think it’s ‘dumb’ or ‘bizarre’.

He hates how society has shaped people who are autistic as ‘insufferable’ or ‘emotionless’ because they are not. You are you. You just have extra steps that need to be seen and heard.

While Soap is incredibly flirty and loves joking around, he will try his best to be more straightforward and ask things directly rather than hint at things — he may make some mistakes but he will learn from them, trying his best to tell you things instead of whispering things into your ear.

Communication and body language can be hard. With Soap, he will try to find ways to communicate with you without his body language and sometimes not using his direct words.

With a certain time, he will learn when you’re stressed and immediately help you through anxiety/or a panic attack, sometimes distracting you with random questions and conversations, asking about your hobbies and the reason you like them.

Like the others, he doesn’t mind the stimming but rather enjoys seeing you get all happy and giddy about certain topics. As long as you’re not hurting yourself in any way, he won’t stop you.

Wherever you feel comfortable doing, whether that’s playing with fidget toys, humming, or tracing the lines on the palm of his hands, it won’t bother him at all.

Certain things can be triggering, which Soap will try his best to comfort.

That certain light that’s on? He’ll give you some headphones and his jacket, rubbing your back to help you calm down.

Don’t like sitting down? He’ll try to find you some space so you can stand by yourself, or get you a fidget cube to play with.

People staring at you? Soap will throw them a glare. If that doesn’t work, he may approach them ‘nicely’ about it.

Speaking of glaring, if anyone looks at you for too long, he’s not gonna be nice about it; throwing a bunch of glares before getting up from his seat, and asking the person what their deal is. This goes along the lines if someone approaches you, yet again, won’t go the nice line. He will get in their face and tell them to fuck off before something worse happens.

Being oversensitive isn’t a bad thing, nor is being under-responsiveness. It’s just the way your brain is hooked up and there’s nothing wrong with being you.

Sometimes crying over a movie character that died is a good thing — expressing your guilty pleasure over them, even if they were the villain.

Or maybe not noticing someone is being rude until you have a conversation with Johnny later that day, in which, he talks it out with you; asking if you want suggestions or need support.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, Johnny is here to support you, even if you snap at him or decide to get so overwhelmed that you need a power nap together.

—

Masterlist || Please reblog or comment instead of liking, it helps a bunch!

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hopepetal · 10 months

Text

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

Part Four!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! :)

@applestruda

Impulse fell back into control of his own body in the same way one snapped out of a particularly long ADHD-induced dissociative state. Panicked, unthinking, and wondering how much time has it been?

The book was still burning as Impulse instinctively reached out to snatch it from the flames, only fully processing a moment later that maybe he shouldn’t have grabbed something that was still actively on fire. With a cry of pain and shock, Impulse dropped the book onto the ground as the rain began to beat down more heavily. Stumbling back, he tripped over his own feet and fell, landing with a soft noise of pain as he held his injured hand close to his chest.

For a moment, he sat there, the small fire put out by the heavy rain far too late. A fear the likes of which he had never felt before sat in his chest, causing his heart to race.

What just happened to me? Is it going to happen again? My hand hurts I need to get it bandaged I need to TELL someone I can’t tell anyone what if it happens again what if I lose control and hurt someone what if–

“Impulse?”

Once again, he was yanked from his spiraling thoughts by someone calling his name. Turning around perhaps just a bit too quickly, Impulse looked up to see Scar, sopping wet from the rain, standing behind him. “Scar,” he breathed out, equal parts relieved and terrified. “Scar, are you– are you okay?”

Scar frowned, his eyes immediately landing on Impulse’s burnt hand. “I… think I should be asking you that, Impulse. C’mere, we’re gonna get that all fixed up.” He carefully helped Impulse to his feet. “I’m not gonna ask what happened,” he began as they walked back to the main camp through the rain, “so don’t worry about that. But…” He sighed. “Just… Impulse, I– we– don’t want you to be suffering alone. We’re knights. We’re friends. We’re in this together.”

Impulse nodded, trying to swallow that stubborn lump in his throat. “Yeah. Thanks, Scar.”

Mumbo, wearing a raincoat and holding an umbrella like any normal person would, waved to the two when they approached the tents. “Did you get caught in the rain?” he shouted, if only to be heard over the downpour.

“No,” Scar called back, “we’re just naturally this wet!”

“Oh, okay! Um, Grian and Pearl aren’t around, because, well, you know. Their wings,” Mumbo tried to explain, “their wings don’t– why am I explaining this to you, you both know this, goodness gracious…”

“Thanks Mumbo,” Scar said anyway, “are you gonna get inside? I don’t think this storm is gonna let up any time soon.”

Mumbo shook his head. “This is actually the perfect time for me to study the possibility of harnessing lightning for power! Theoretically, it could work, but theoretically it could also blow me up. And to be honest, I can’t wait to see which one it is.”

“Have fun!” Scar called after him, before leading Impulse to the swaggon. Instead of tents like the other knights, he usually just stayed in the same place he did before joining the knights. “I have bandages and burn stuff here, because goodness knows I burn myself plenty when cooking. Just sit down right there…” He quickly rifled through one of his chests, before pulling out clean bandages and burn ointment. “Aaand I should have some water– how are you feeling, by the way?– here it is!”

As Scar helped Impulse cool the burn and clean his hand, Impulse was at a loss for words. Scar seemed to take note of that after a few minutes of him being unresponsive to the attempts at keeping the mood light hearted, and continued to silently bandage the treated burns.

“I’m sorry,” Impulse began, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Scar chuckled softly, understanding shining through in his eyes. “I think I’d know that feeling better than anyone, Impulse. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I know I’ve done more than my fair share of… poorly thought out things… in the past.”

Impulse had to bite back a laugh. “Yeah, I can think of a couple more memorable ones,” he admitted, “but I just… I dunno, Scar. I…” He sighed. “What would you think if I wasn’t human?”

Scar didn’t even pause. “I mean, Impulse, we’ve been over this a million times before. If you weren’t human, none of the knights would be.” He began to put away the bandages, ointment, and leftover water.

Impulse frowned, shaking his head. “That’s not…” He flexed his right hand, testing to see how much he could move still, before placing it back in his lap. “What do you think of me now?” he pressed, looking back up at Scar.

Scar smiled, turning back to Impulse. “Oh, that’s easy. You’re strong, kind, passionate, smart, a really good teacher, an amazing fighter, you’re funny, you’re creative, and just… you’re a great friend.”

“But what if I wasn’t…” Impulse tried to figure out how to word the question, bouncing his leg slightly. “What if I wasn’t just me?”

Scar thought for a moment, before shrugging. “Well, I don’t think there’s any problem with bein’ that! And, Impulse…” He sat down so that he could be at Impulse’s eye level, folding his hands in his lap and leaning forward. “You’re making it sound like there’s something wrong with being human.” He smiled kindly, but there was something that stopped it from reaching his eyes. “That’s what this is about, yeah? I’ve been… I’ve been thinking about it for a bit. With everything going on…”

Impulse shook his head, interrupting Scar. “No, no, no, there’s nothing wrong with being human! I just… what if the me I am isn’t good enough?”

For a moment, there was silence.

“Oh, Impulse.” Scar’s voice broke slightly on his name. “You are more than enough. You have always been. I’m so happy you’re one of my friends, a part of my life, you…” He took a deep breath, in and out. “If you could see the things you’ve done from an outside perspective, you’d see it– just how much you’ve changed and impacted lives. I…” he trailed off, caught for a moment in a fleeting memory. “I can say for a fact I’ve changed for the better since I met you. So please don’t ever say or think that you aren’t good enough. Because you are. Because you always have been.”

Impulse tried to blink away the tears that suddenly were welling up in his eyes, but it was too late. His vision blurred, and the next blink sent salty drops falling from his eyes to make dark spots on his fresh bandages. It was as if the dam burst with that, and tears began to fall in a steady stream as Impulse’s shoulders shook.

All this pain, all this fear, all the self doubt and anxiety… and he wasn’t alone. He had never been, really. If it hadn’t been for him shutting the other knights out, he wouldn’t have ever ended up with a demon in his mind taking control whenever it wished. But now…

“Thank you, Scar,” Impulse got out, furiously wiping his eyes. “I… I think I needed to hear that.”

Scar nodded. “Of course. I… I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, and I wish I knew more to help you. But just… talk to us, okay? Or, gosh, I don’t know– talk to someone, at least! We won’t be able to help you if we don’t know you’re hurting.”

“Okay. Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Impulse wiped away what he hoped to be the last of his tears, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. “I– I will. I promise I’ll talk to you guys more. And I’m really sorry about all of this.”

Scar waved his hand. “Ah, don’t be. We all have our moments.” He smiled tentatively. “Do you want to stay here with me and wait out the storm? We can make bets on if Mumbo’s new experiment blows up or not.”

Impulse grinned– a real, happy grin. “Sounds great.”

–

Somehow, things got better.

The first day Impulse woke up feeling well-rested, he could hardly believe it. But it continued to happen, again and again, until finally he was waking up at a much more normal time.

“For you, maybe,” Grian had said, but the clear relief in his expression over Impulse’s “recovery” had taken away any snark intended.

Slowly, Impulse began to heal. Not only from the burns, but from the exhaustion and lack of appetite as well. The animals seemed to forget all about their previous distrust of Impulse, though Jellie still was a little wary. He didn’t really mind, of course. The joy he felt from being able to settle back into his life again was enough.

The other knights were thrilled, too. It was like a fog had been lifted from the camp, and everything just felt… lighter.

“Alright.” Pearl interrupted the lively chatter during lunchtime about two weeks later, “we’re unfortunately getting a little low on vegetables and some other supplies. It’s been a while since Impulse and I brought back everything, and I don’t want it goin’ bad, ya hear?”

“Soup day?” Mumbo piped up, eyes wide. They’d all heard this speech a million times, and it was always something the knights looked forward to.

Pearl nodded, smiling. “Soup day.”

“I don’t know why we call it soup day,” Grian mumbled, “it really ends up more like stew, if you ask me.”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Because, goofball, it’s tradition! And also, soup sounds nicer than stew.”

And so, Impulse found himself paired up with Scar, who kept watch over the pot and stirred while he chopped vegetables.

“Whew!” Scar wiped the sweat from his forehead, turning away from the fire. “It's been a while since I've cooked. I forgot how hot everything gets!”

Impulse laughed. “Yes, that tends to happen with fire. Shocking.”

“Oh, you hush!” Scar grabbed a large spoon, waving it sternly in Impulse's direction before turning back to the pot. “You just keep cutting those veggies, mister.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Impulse turned back to the cutting board, reaching for the knife that lay beside it.

Do it.

Impulse froze. His hand stopped where it was, hovering just over the knife. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment. He had to calm down. He was– he was just hearing things. Nothing was wrong. He was fine. The demon was gone. It had to be. It hadn’t spoken in weeks. Why would it show up again now?

Impulse picked up the knife, placing a washed and peeled carrot on the cutting board. He began to cut the carrot into thin slices with deft hands. In the background, he could hear Scar humming to himself as the fire crackled.

It's just you and him. Alone. The words were like a fog settling over his mind, like icy hands gripping at his heart. An easy target.

Impulse's chopping stilled as he tensed up, before starting to cut again. His movements were sharper, harder, and one of the carrot slices flew off of the table. “Gosh–” He set the knife down, bending to pick the carrot slice up and throw it away.

“You good, man?” Scar called from where he stood beside the fire, not turning to look away from the pot. “Havin' some troubles?”

He has his back to you.

“Nah,” Impulse joked, though his tone was a bit forced. “Just underestimated my own strength.” He straightened back up, gripping the edge of the table with his hands.

No. No, no, no no no no. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not now. Not after he’d finally started to be happy again.

The voice cooed softly in his head, a persuasive siren song. It would take nothing at all to kill him. Impulse found his hand drifting toward the knife, unable to stop. To stab him in the back... He picked it up. Somehow, this was different from the possession. Yes... feel the thirst... spill his blood–!

The demon wasn’t making him do anything. This time, it made him want to.

“No!” Impulse breathed out, stumbling back. He threw the knife down on the table. “Sorry, Scar. I gotta go. I'll tell Grian to come out and help you.”

Impulse fled, not sticking around to hear Scar's confused “Wait–!”

–

“...just worried, is all. I know you see it too. It’s like whatever happened–”

Whatever conversation Grian and Pearl were having before Impulse interrupted had probably been important by the sound of it, but Impulse didn’t really have the time to feel guilty about that. Panicked, he looked back and forth between them both, still panting slightly. “Grian?” he got out, trying to force his voice to stay calm, “Grian, I need you to go help Scar. I– I can’t…” He trailed off as he realized just how stupid this all sounded.

Pearl took a step toward him, her face unreadable. “Are you feeling alright, Impulse?” she asked, and after a moment, Impulse swallowed and nodded. “Are you sure, mate? You’re looking awfully pale.”

Grian said nothing, but Impulse noticed how his wings had slightly spread out, colourful feathers slightly puffing up. Grian had never been surprised by anyone before– he somehow always knew when someone was coming. So unless he had been angry at Pearl for some reason (which, thinking about it, wasn’t all that unbelievable), it had to have been Impulse who had set him off.

…right?

Impulse just tried to smile and nod. “Um. Yeah. Sorry.” His eyes kept drifting back to Grian, which Pearl noticed.

She turned to Grian and smacked him on the shoulder. “Hey. Birdbrain. That’s Impulse, mhm? Our friend? Pull yourself together, goodness gracious.”

Grian blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Oh– was I staring? Uh, yeah, sorry about that.” His wings slowly folded back behind him, and he lost the alert posture. “Sorry. What was happening?”

“Nothing,” Impulse got out. “I’m good. I promise.”

Pathetic. He was pathetic. It wasn’t even that long ago when he’d had that conversation with Scar about reaching out, and being more open with the other knights. Guess this was just another thing he managed to screw up instantly.

Impulse began to back away from the two. “The uh. The soup! Yeah, the soup’s almost done. I’ll see you guys at dinner…?”

Pearl smiled, if only to put him at ease. “Of course. See you at dinner, Impulse.”

Impulse began to walk away, and it was only when Grian and Pearl started talking again in hushed tones was he reminded that the contract with the demon gave him enhanced hearing. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to invade on their privacy–

“I told you. You could see it in his eyes.”

“Grian, not now.”

…especially when this was clearly about him.

Impulse ran the rest of the way back to Scar, and was all-too relieved to see that Mumbo was there as well. “Hey. Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Oh, it’s alright!” Scar called over to him, “we’re just about finished up, so don’t you worry!”

“I got to chop the vegetables,” Mumbo added, “but really, I’ve been thinking– it would be quite simple to just get an automatic…” He started to ramble about his idea of an automatic vegetable cutter, but Impulse found he couldn’t quite follow along as well as he’d hope to.

The demon was back. Or maybe it had never left. And not only could it speak to Impulse and possess him but it could influence him as well.

Impulse was strong. He had trained all his life to hone his strength and skills. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t breathe underwater, couldn’t withstand a fiery blaze, and most certainly couldn’t teleport. But he was strong. In terms of pure physical strength, none of the other knights stood a chance.

And that terrified him.

Dinner went by in a blur, and it felt as though barely a moment had passed by when Impulse laid down to sleep. He had been stuck in a sort of zoned out state ever since the demon had reappeared, and only now did his head feel more clear.

Today had been a warning. What happened with Scar– Impulse could’ve killed him. The fact that he hadn’t was frankly a miracle. But it would happen again. The demon would speak to him and he would pick up the knife and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself in time.

Tomorrow.

Impulse would leave camp tomorrow, and he would run until he was far, far away from anyone he could hurt.

But for now, he needed to sleep.

#my writing #boatem knights au #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fanfic #obv i'm not updating the ao3 rn #bc of the attack

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pixelnrd · 3 months

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obvously river ultimately made his own choices, but april put a lot of pressure on him to conform and join her dad's company and be someone he ultimately wasn't for her own gain (which wasn't necessarily NEGATIVE gain, their family needed to be provided for but still). Now it feels like instead of having learned her lesson from her own road with unhappiness from conforming she's just...doing the same thing to Dustin?? Instead of trying to figure out why he's so unhappy she's just trying to push him to do things because he's interrupting her time with the woman she left his dad for??? at least that's how it feels, idk i'm annoyed with her lol.

I can understnad this interpretation of April as being a bit... selfish? Hypocritical? She definitely is, and from the sentiments in comments about April on recent posts I get the feeling that others feel the same way about April (which is valid! not devaluing that at all).

BUT I want to counter this with a different interpretation (long post sorry!)

For all her faults, April isn't meant to be seen as unfeeling or callous. April is a product of her own upbringing and time period, and if anything she is a victim of changing societal norms in the 70s/80s with second wave feminism. Her parents gave her a great education and expected big things from her with college and a career - she became a doctor. But society also expected her to have the husband and the house and the babies. And she did all that, she played her life by the book as it was laid out to her - and ultimately found that cumulatively, over time in was a burden. It made her burnt out and unhappy. She was expected to uphold her own career, raise the kids, look after the house, have dinner on the table for them all. That's a huge burden to bear, and at a time when men weren't expected to pick up any of the slack to allow women to enter the workforce and become more than homemakers (and let's be real, plenty of men still don't do this in the 21st century). River in that sense did not make it any easier for April - he was playing his own role, one that didn't expect him to share that burden of homemaking and childreading beyond hanging out with the kids on the weekend and doing the odd handy job. He was blind to the burden that April was bearing.

April was also running in the rat race from college, to career, to wife, to mother. She didn't get time to stop and check in with herself on whether she was having a good time. In fact I don't think April could pinpoint when it started to go wrong either. It was the wearing down over time of a person who was expected to do it all and be everything for everyone.

I do feel like everyone comes out in defence for the heir (which, hey, is fair - its their story!). But I've tried to portray all my characters as having flaws and negative traits, making mistakes and not being perfect. River was far from perfect as a husband and Dad. He just slid right on into the breadwinner male role without question because in the era he lived in, that was what husbands did. He grew up in a non-traditional household and was always subconsciously rebelling against that. He grew up poor and got himself to college. He was given a career opportunity that would make him a lot of money and he genuinelly wanted that. He wanted to have material wealth to show for himself after having grown up with no electricity, eating home grown vegetables and wearing thrift clothes. Ultimately he didn't realise the cost of the lifestyle he sought, or why ultimately his parents rejected it - they were happier people, even though they had less.

It's not entirely April's fault that River went down a path that didn't make him happy. Being with April presented opportunities and a lifestyle that River bought into. But as time went on, and they had a house and kids, River became trapped in the cycle of upholding that lifestyle.

River and April were only 20 when they met. They got locked down too young thanks to societal expectations and familial pressures and ultimately they grew up during that marriage into different people. I think the beauty of their separation - even thought hurtful for all involved - was that they were finally able to explore who they really wanted to be.

That's not to say that they didn't learn their lessons. April tries to tolerate Dustin's apathy, but probably finds it hard considering the pressure her parents put on her, and the sacrifices she feels that she made to give him a great upbringing and feeling taken advantage of - after all, she was full time Mum and and a full time doctor.

When writing the character of April, I thought a lot about my own Mum and my Grandmothers and other Mums I have known in my lifetime. And I thought about how they all did double shift, coming home from their paid work to do the unpaid work of being a wife, Mum and homemaker. I wanted April to have her liberation from this system, so that was what I gave her.

I worry that April's character hasn't come across the way I intended, and that makes me feel like I haven't done her justice. If anything that's a lesson to myself in storytelling! But I hope this essay-like response can give others a different way of thinking about April 😊

#asks #answers #april jones

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nina-ya · 7 months

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Cooking with Law

A/N: Yay first post on this blog! These were supposed to be headcanons but I went a bit overboard whoops. Pairing: Law x GN!reader CW: None WC: 728

Law typically isn't the one in charge of cooking aboard the ship. That duty usually falls on the rest of the crew. However, it's not as though he's completely clueless in the kitchen. He might not be a top-tier chef, but he can hold his own and help others when needed. His infatuation for you has slowly grown over the years, and he can't quite find the way to show you how he feels. When words fail him, he turns to food to express his feelings.

As you go about your business, a whiff of smoke catches your attention. Rushing to the kitchen, you find your usually composed captain locked in a fierce battle between himself and a flaming pan. Suppressing a laugh, you watch Law scramble to extinguish the flames, an unusual display of panic. Once the fire is under control, you make your presence known.

"Having a bit of trouble there, Captain?" you quip, a smirk playing on your lips.

Startled by the sound of your voice, Law jumps and faces you, a poor explanation stumbling out of his mouth as he does so. "Uh, no, no trouble at all. I think the stove might be malfunctioning. We should have it checked out and probably replaced when we reach the next island…" His reddening cheeks betray his wishes to hide his embarrassment at being caught in this moment.

You see through the excuse, and your smile widens as you approach him. "Really? The stove's acting up? Let me take a look." You reach for the stove's knob, but he intervenes.

"Okay, fine, the stove's fine," he concedes with a sigh. "I turned my back for a moment, and it just burst into flames."

You examine the charred remains in the pan. "Yikes, whatever that was supposed to be is beyond saving now. What were you trying to make, anyway?" you ask with a tilt of your head. You lean over and the burnt smell makes your face scrunch up in disgust.

Law notices the face you make "cute…" he thinks to himself. Realizing he is just staring and needs to respond to your question, he mentions a dish you adore, and your eyes light up. "I love that! If you still have some ingredients left, maybe I can assist you?" Your pleading gaze makes it impossible for Law to decline, even if he'd rather retreat to his quarters and forget this moment ever happened.

He grumbles his agreement and quietly starts gathering the ingredients, this time with your assistance. As the initial embarrassment fades, he relaxes and engages in conversations with you throughout the cooking process. You both get to know each other better as you work together The moment is a bit intimate and quite comforting as you two share tidbits of yourselves to each other. As you finish cooking and plate the dish, you grab two forks. Law is confused when you hand him one, but you practically thrust it into his hand.

"What? Did you think you wouldn't get to enjoy this too? We both made it, so it's only fair that we share in the pleasure," you insist.

Muttering an "Oh, okay," he scoops some food with his fork as you do the same. Before he can put the food in his mouth, you have an idea. Leaning in close, you gently grasp his jaw with your free hand, urging his mouth open and feeding him a bite. He's taken aback by the surprisingly intimate gesture and his cheeks flush. He practically short circuits and tries to come up with a response, but when he can't he hesitates until he ultimately leans forward, using his fork to feed you, a small, triumphant smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he watches you become the flustered one. You two stare at each other, not one of you daring to break the silence of this moment. He is the first to speak up.

"We did a pretty good job, I'd say. What do you think?" he says, savoring the flavors.

You smile and nod at him. "Maybe you should nearly burn the kitchen down more often, just so we can cook together like this again," you suggest playfully. He chuckles and feeds you again, this time without any hesitation in his actions.

"You know what? Maybe I will, just for you…"

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader

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thebibutterflyao3 · 4 months

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Day 11 - Prompt: Always @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 542 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

As they walked along the beach, Remus trailed Sirius and Lily while he sorted through his muddled thoughts. Despite the unlikelihood of him winning the bloke over, he hadn’t expected to flail around in a lake of “perhaps.” He’d fully anticipated Sirius would either outright reject him or snog him senseless.

This strange place in between was confusing. Remus wasn’t sure if Sirius was playing a game that he didn’t know the rules to, stringing him along, or still making up his mind. He didn’t seem like the sort to maliciously taunt him with what he couldn’t have, but then again, Remus didn’t actually know him that well yet.

“So, how’s your holiday?” Lily asked, tugging lightly on the leash to keep Padfoot from bolting into the waves.

Sirius shrugged as he looked past her at the horizon. “Fine. My brother’s here and he’s happy, that was my main goal. We didn’t have many ‘happy’ experiences together growing up. I’m determined to change that.”

“Ah, I understand. Things are complicated with my sister too.”

“He’s always stuck in his head, Lily. Overthinks everything. It’s a trauma response, according to Effie.”

Remus let that sink in as he watched Sirius tie up his hair into a bun at the back of his head. He hadn’t noticed the undercut on the bottom half until now. It suited him.

He's deflecting. Why?

“Are you happy?” Remus blurted. He internally cringed at his bluntness. “To be here, I mean.”

Sirius stiffened, then relaxed. “Of course. I love Wales, and spending time with the Potters. They’re the only parents that I claim. I want Reggie to have them too.”

More deflection. Why didn’t I notice earlier? Oh right, I was distracted by his hair.

Sirius rarely spoke about himself without centering his brother, James, or Padfoot. It was as though he didn’t see himself as a separate entity from them, or he didn’t want to. Remus immediately felt guilty for assuming Sirius was toying with him. The bloke was plenty confident in his appearance, but less so about who he was underneath it.

“That’s admirable,” Lily said. “Sharing your chosen family with him. I’m not sure that I’d do the same. Too many burnt bridges between my sister and I.”

“Not that admirable, considering I’ve known the Potters for years. Reggie recently made his own break from ‘the family,’ so I reached out. I wouldn’t have otherwise. Never expected him to say ‘yes,’ if I’m honest.”

Lily nodded knowingly. “Fair point. If Petunia needed help, I’d offer. I still think it’s admirable though.”

“Your sister’s name is Petunia? Did your parents have a plant fetish or something?” Sirius teased.

Deflecting again. I’m seeing a pattern.

An amused snort burst from Lily. “Eh, no. My mum loves to garden and my dad didn’t care what she named us.”

“It’s not an Evans’ family tradition then?”

“Nope. He’s happy if she’s happy, dotes on her a bit.”

“I kind of feel that way about James, you know?”

Remus nodded agreeably, even though neither were looking at him. Sirius did not take criticism of James well, he’d learned that first-hand. Then, he wondered what it would be like for Sirius to dote on him.

Perfection. It would be perfect.

Next Part>>>

#the marauders #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #Lily Evans #wolfstar microfic

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peeledpokemon · 7 months

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I'm sososo curious. What is your process for deciding what parts of them are peel and which are the insides? Some of it feels clear and then some of them it's like 'why did/didn't you remove this part' so I need to know how you decide where the peel ends and the innards begin

i answered this in the past in a more laissez-faire attitude in the past, but i think I'll be more legit this time, esp since I've been a lot less of a small gremlin under the bed and more like. an actual person on this blog lmao.

In the past it was kind of an "everything goes" sort of attitude, back when the blog was created. Everything but the skin. Legit i found what might be considered the most "skin-like" color from the pokemon and/or what the skin tone probably would be and just recolored everything which was..... a bit of an annoying process looking back, and it's probably why i burnt out of even touching this travesty for a few years.

Nowadays, i'm a lot more lazy about it ngl, but i feel it's allowed for a few more funny things. Whatever the base color is, I'll take it and just sorta smooth out everything. Usually patterns go as well, unless its funnier to keep them [clodsire], or it's kinda impossible to tell where the base color starts and ends [girafarig]. The re-lining and re-coloring is a lot less work as a result and means i get to have a little more energy to do things like turn Clodsire into a goddamn pokepuff, and take on the more mentally taxing ones, like ripping the metal platings off of Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina. Essentially i get to be more lazy in exchange for actually thinking about what i'm keeping and getting rid of. As for specifically "where the peeling ends and the innards begin" it really depends. Usually i try to keep at least the bare creature. So, face, limbs, ears, and tails, but i still often break this rule bc either: A. i think it's funnier to yeet them [wooper, voltorb] B. there's nothing to structure a redraw over [glaceon's tail is basically just paper] C. i just don't want to be bothered with fixing it [leafeon's ears would require too much editing to look good as a peel so i just. Plucked them. like leaves.] Hope i answered your question in the ramble anyway

#not a peel #ask #blueheartblueblood

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yxstxrdrxxm · 1 month

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And that... Is the end of Flawed.

Or the one I hosted for my silly event here anyway.

[ TL;DR under read more: The lack of interest and stress I got from irl matters led me to drop the event and ending it early, but! I have a blog made for the sake of continuing/restarting the event.

Please vote on the poll if you want it to be catered to the reader or stick to Yesterday, and be unbiased, too. Vote what you want, and I'll try and make it happen.]

CONTEXT UTC:

So, I know you guys have a lot of questions, and I can't blame you. I know the biggest one in your mind right now, which is:

Why did I end Flawed early?

The reason why I ended Flawed was actually multiple. Please keep in mind that these are for my observations, and overall I'm not blaming anyone for this. I just noticed it and thought I should bring it up lol.

1. Writing for days burnt me out.

Although Flawed is a passion story/project of mine, writing so much burnt me out. And by a lot. There were days I struggled to think of writing because I have other commitments to do, and sometimes its why polls came out super late or super early. I tried to compensate for it by posting 1 poll a day, but when it didn't work, I pushed myself to make more for 1 day.

I wanted so badly for the whole event to flow like a CYOA because by next month (April), I won't be free to host this as I used to with OLC. However, in that process, I burnt myself out to the point I needed to take longer breaks/forget this event.

It sucks. I would not recommend doing this if you think you want to (because it is NOT worth it).

2. Interactions were... Lacking.

This event is interaction heavy, and the reason why is because you guys control the story that Yesterday and others are in. Naturally, this also affects the characters and how I shape Flawed from start to finish. I have a plot line for it, of course, but the interactions were... Not there.

I noticed the usual ones from my mutuals, sure, but there were moments that I felt like I was simply posting to no one. It was unfortunate during the time with Diluc, where I had hoped that some of you would go, but due to complications (ahem, the votes weren't able to decide on going when the deadline was up), I had to write how it's supposed to go with some... Changes.

It also made me feel sad to see that there weren't much (if at all) interactions to Yesterday. Tinuvion received a fair bit, which is nice because he's a little shit (please bully him lol), but Yesterday after the first week and a half just... Didn't get any. At least, in my records.

I'm not saying this to guilt you guys to interact more, but I am saying this because it feels sad for me to see that unlike OLC, this... Flopped. I had a lot of responses + moments planned if it took off that much, but... Oh well. There's always that one story that won't hit for everyone.

And finally:

3. Maybe you guys wanted it to be catered to you, not to an OC.

I had a feeling that, from the start, Flawed may not take off.

Unlike One Last Call (which was a matchup event + story), Flawed was a CYOA but you guys aren't the main focus/MC, Yesterday (my oc) is. I was hoping that with this method, you guys get to play the omnipotent voice and see how far the story can go until it's conclusion.

However, as I hosted the event for the next few days to weeks, I realized that it was simply too difficult. Maybe I wasn't prepared to host this type of format, as ambitious as it is, but I realized that maybe, you guys don't deserve this format and I should've made it catered to a reader insert instead.

It was hard for me to swallow the pill that this event may not be fun for the majority. I knew that having an OC be the MC + canon characters interact with them may be flaky at best (esp the whole OC x Canon being... well. very much a huge "oh dear"), but seeing minimal interaction/interest than my friends were (and people I admire, too. Hi Harmony! o/!!) and realizing that maybe I shouldn't have done this just... Made me regret it.

For that, I'd like to say:

I'm so, so sorry that this event failed. I'm very sorry if you guys expected it to be like OLC: about the reader/reader insert format.

I know it's not right for me to apologize, but I feel that I have to. I let all of you down, and I don't want you guys to be disappointed in something that you all don't like to see in this blog.

So I decided that I'll run this event in its own blog, but here's the thing.

I don't know if I should keep Yesterday in the blog.

I have to open up a poll for this, so here's the options you guys have for it's fate:

If you guys want it to be a reader insert game (aka you are the main star, not Yesterday), I will set up a menu to BUILD your personal darling.

This means that you guys get to decide how darling will look, the gender, their preferences, and even their job. However, this will be for your darling, and if darling dies, you can't use them anymore.

PROS: This is catered to the reader, and thus, you guys are the ones to choose your own destiny. I won't be the one to decide this time, and if the majority agrees on a specific option, your darling will do just that. This is also more open for variety + reader/canon interaction because I know some of you would have a lot of fun being able to see yourselves in the story.

CONS: When your darling dies, you get the chance to restart. However, the game will continue on with a new darling you guys will have to make and the stats reset to zero. The characters will also mention your past darling, and you'll have to restart from scratch. I still need to tweak this, but just know that it is VERY tricky for you if your first darling dies.

If you guys want it to stay the same (Yesterday is the MC), the format will remain the same.

This means what you witnessed here in the blog WILL happen on the other blog.

PROS: You guys get to either continue or restart with Yesterday's story, and with newfound knowledge, you get to choose more options that were previously unavailable. This also opens up to you all being able to essentially shape Yesterday's outlook + what'll happen to them, because you are the one guiding them to their happy ending.

CONS: This one does not offer a restart like the reader insert (one try only), and this could result to another "this'll flop because many people aren't interested". We've seen it happen here, so please decide wisely.

If you guys want BOTH, the format will be different as you have the option to build a darling (reader insert) or stick to Yesterday's story.

This means there will be a new system for both options to be available, alongside new menus!

PROS: You guys get to have a chance of an 'easy route' or 'hard route' and all of you can use your experience/s to get your desired ending for either one <3 go crazy lol

CONS: If you choose one of the two options for both, the latter will be locked. That's the only consequence I have for this one tbh.

So yes, I'd like to say thank you, and sorry for the fail of Flawed on this blog. I wish I could give you all the quality like in OLC, but there were... Too many things to consider. Sobs.

If you guys still want to continue, please lmk. I worked hard on Flawed and I still want to continue, but this time, its a permanent event and will be on my own pace.

Thank you for your support. Again. And I'll see you guys next time (be it a random fic or the next event <3)

#💌 ;; messenger writes #💌 ;; promising letter: flawed

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disastrouscanasta · 13 days

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more of the clegan wip which refuses to cooperate with me

be warned that this is definitely a lot smuttier than the last bit. it’s all safe sane and consensual, but it is angstier

Gale was gentle with him, it burnt a pathetic pain deep in John’s gut.

“I won’t shatter.” He said, just under his breath, but they were close enough together as Gale moved inside him that he heard easily. “Pick up your pace, I don't mind.”

“I know you won’t.” They’d done it before, been harsher and tougher when they had little time. Gale had always understood his wants and needs so intrinsically. John wondered if he’d broken something between them, if the sudden disconnect was his fault.

Gale pressed a soft, sweet kiss to the base of John’s neck. It was everything that John could have wanted, and still somehow nothing. It felt like a goodbye, like Gale was apologising for the fact that their inevitable conclusion was finally upon them. Gale must have kissed women on the cheek the same way when he turned them down, this was what Gale’s high school flings would have gotten, if Gale had ever bothered to have them.

He wanted Gale to do better, to bruise John’s hips with the hands that hovered there gently, to scar John’s skin with his blunt nails and to fuck him hard enough that he’d feel it in the morning, in a week. He wanted Gale to give him more, more pleasure, more of his care, more time.

John also knew that wasn’t fair.

His head tipped back, his shoulders hit Gale’s chest as he arched into the small touches, seeking them out and soaking them in.

He wondered if Gale went this slow to prepare himself for his marriage to Marge. If he was getting ready to carry on his life without the chaos and terror of the war on his heels, without the ticking clock that urged them to go go go, be quick, don’t get caught, the sound that John heard along with each beat of his heart.

John wished that they were face-to-face, instead of having Gale curled around him, laying with both of them facing towards the wall of the room. It’s me, remember? He wanted to say. I can take it, whatever you’re giving, I can take it.

But he didn’t. He kept his head down and just felt. Taking in each point of contact, each little breath that Gale exhaled against John’s back. Gale’s hands rested on his hips, John laid his own over one, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly. Gale moved in and out of him consistently, rocking their hips together.

He felt a jolt through his spine, John bit out a gasp.

“Easy.” Gale muttered. “Y’alright?”

“Do that again.” He said.

Gale did, John felt the bitter sort of arousal that he’d been building shift suddenly, replaced by a glorious heat that spread through his stomach to his chest. It was Gale, he was with Gale. He was meant to savour a moment like this, not wish it away to spite himself.

“God.” John said. He heard Gale huff his own kind of laugh at the curse. He pictured Gale’s exasperated smile, the one he used when John did something stupid or embarrassing, when he said something that he knew would make him laugh.

So focused on Gale, it took a moment to remember that his own cock was painfully hard, and that he hadn’t touched himself properly since they’d prepared. He fumbled for a moment, letting go of Gale’s hand to grab the base of his own cock.

“Let me.” Gale told him, reaching around. “I’ve got you.”

If Gale thought of Marge at this moment, John felt bad for her. There would be a very awkward wedding night if Gale took note of anything that he and John had gotten up to. It was reassuring, knowing that Gale’s mind couldn’t stray too far from the here-and-now, not when he had his friend’s cock in his hand.

“Relax.” Gale said. “You’re stiff as a board. Can’t be comfortable.”

It was and it wasn’t, he felt the stretch of it through his whole body as Gale got him off, still keeping a slow pace inside him. It was impressive how Gale could be so coherent during all this.

“I’m alright.” John said. “Don’t gotta worry about me.”

The last few words were followed by a sharp intake of air as Gale pushed deeper. Their bodies were sticky with sweat, vaseline and precome. John was astonished at how quickly it took for a room to smell like sex. He wondered, distantly, if it took long to fade, or if he’d be sleeping in a bunk clouded with stale arousal by himself for the foreseeable future.

In that moment though, it was difficult to conceive any thought outside of Gale‘s hands on him, so he decided to let it go. To let himself relax, letting the warmth flow from the centre of his chest to the toss of his fingers. It was unfortunate how quickly he could feel himself brought to the edge of his climax.

“I’m close.” He muttered. Close to Gale, close to coming, close to the end of everything. His world was tipped on its axis in many ways, his grasp of the present, past, and future bore no weight on the feeling of Gale inside him.

“Go on.” Buck urged, rocking his hips to earn himself a strangled sound. “Go on, I’ve got you.”

#clegan #buck cleven #bucky egan #buck x bucky #bucky x buck #mota #masters of the air #mota fanfic #gale cleven #gale buck cleven #john egan #john bucky egan #fuck these guys have so many names

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stardew-obsessed-ora · 6 months

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I've been avoiding posting just so that Ulrich's ref could be my 100th POST. RAHHH. WOOO IT'S DONE!!

For anyone whose new to seeing this man, his name is Ulrich Althaus (Ulrich Mephisto Althaus if we're referring to him in other canons). He's a Technical Lead for Joja Corporations, and despite being introverted, he can come off as rather judgmental to people who don't know him well enough to understand how he speaks. He's around 18 years old when he first arrives in the Republic itself, finding himself staying around Downtown Zuzu for a while. He's somewhere in his late 20s/early 30s when he stations himself in the valley itself and tries to gather the resources to set up a Joja Brand tech store. In his mind, he truly, deeply believes that Joja can help benefit the valley. He ends up having rose-tinted glasses over the company for the longest time, and gradually has those viewpoints shattered the longer he stays within the valley. Of course, I plan on building his lore up gradually and through slow answers here and there, so I'm really trying not to spew out too much :3 also he's ungodly picky i mean he hates more than the average farmer LMFAO. bro has most of the universal hates too

More general description stuff/expansion stuff (fair warning its long):

Ulrich's personality is a fascinating one. He feels as though he has a reputation to uphold, and will often shut down most, if not all critique coming toward him unless they are genuine. He often-times does not stand for attacks on his own character. Usually though, he’s the one giving critique to others, but it mostly comes off as insults rather than from a genuine place of concern due to how blunt he is. The way he phrases things tends to be derogatory in nature due to his lack of filter. He tends to get annoyed when people act offended, and genuinely doesn’t understand why they took his concern the way they did.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of feeling he has to constantly uphold a reputation, he is quite the perfectionist. It's difficult for him to accept his own mistakes without shutting down and having to distance himself from the situation awhile. To put it simply, he feels like he’s failed those around him through his errors. While he gives others the opportunity to correct their margin of error, he would never give himself that leeway.

Due to Ulrich’s lack of social understanding, he tends to struggle at fraternizing with others and oftentimes misses obvious jokes or sarcasm within sentences. He is particularly bad at this when matched with tone through text, and will often find himself over-explaining something that didn’t need to be explained to begin with just to be met with “blah blah blah its a joke”. Though his lack of tonal understanding is better in person, he can still be found occasionally left confused and bewildered at interactions.

Speaking of social scenarios with Ulrich, he is relatively introverted, and prefers brief interactions with strangers in person as to not burn himself out. He prefers interactions with little to no people around, and in general much prefers spaces with little to no activity. This is one of many reasons which his line of work involves remote involvement and virtual meetings on his end. While this issue does not present itself in online chatrooms, he still finds himself burnt out of interaction occasionally if he’s had to speak to those hes unfamiliarized with for too long.

To those he’s come to know, however, he can be a rather clingy, overprotective individual who wishes for nothing more than to be there for the ones he’s come to love. His clingy nature comes from a place of fear, as he doesn’t want to go through losing someone else he’s come to grow close to. Though, he can be a bit overbearing at points.

Other Likes:

- He highly enjoys programming, creating things from scratch through the languages he knows, and being able to experience anything which was decently coded. He’s actually a total nerd for video games and especially for computer viruses. He loves being able to dissect things like that.

He enjoys heavy metal music and EDM. His playlist can be a jumpscare for those entirely oblivious to his music tastes.

He enjoys hiking and exploring alone in his free-time. Its relaxing for him to be able to get out and exercise in any way he can.

He’s a total dork for mythology and the study of all things surrounding mythological creatures.

He gets overly hyper during the festival of the moonlight jellies

He’d never actually admit it, but he really likes dancing, the art behind dancing, and is a decent dancer himself.

Other Dislikes:

He has a phobia of needles

He’s outright terrified of Krampus. His father told him ONE tale for bedtime and it forever sealed his fate.

He dislikes overly loud and obnoxious individuals, finding them quick to drain him.

He dislikes summer, finding himself overheating easily in the harsh sun

Despite being a Joja employee, he somewhat holds disdain for the way a majority of the branches are run.

Geese. I don’t need to explain this one, I’m sure it’s justifiable.

Strengths:

One of Ulrich’s greatest strengths is how agile he is. Being relatively skilled on his feet, he is able to run away from most confrontations. Of course, he’d find that shameful, so instead he uses this agility of his to get to and from places at concerning speeds. He might have knee issues, but that doesn't mean he's not fast as fuck.

He's a total computer nerd. Got a tech problem? He’s probably your guy to help out.

He’s a surprisingly good chef

He was also taught a decent amount of fishing by his father, making him decent at it.

He’s very outspoken about how he feels regarding any given situation

Weaknesses:

He’s ass at farming. Do not make this man do farmwork, you’ll regret it deeply. Please PLEASE don’t make this man do farm work.

He has the depth perception of a literal toddler. If he’s running somewhere, there’s a 50% chance he’ll slam into a pole on the way there.

As stated in his bio, he has difficulty in social situations. This can make bonding with others difficult, and causes him his fair share of conflict. Especially when he mistakes a joke as a snide remark and starts to comment about how it shouldn’t have been said and it spirals out of control.

He’s stubborn to a fault. He has a very stern set of morals which are hard to bend. Not only that, but his strict internal code causes him to react oddly to anything which bends it even slightly, causing even MORE conflict on his part.

He’s very outspoken about how he feels regarding any given situation

close up on some things that might be hard to read + the chibis that im absurdly attached to (i might post them standalone)

#sdv oc #sdv ulrich #stardew valley #stardew valley art #stardew valley oc #sdv #sdv oc ref #my oc art #sdv art #stardew valley fanart #stardew #sdv farmer #stardew farmer #farmer ulrich #jojasona #joja corp #stardew art #sdv fanart #stardew valley farmer #stardew fanart #farmer stardew valley #this took longer than anticipated but thats because I kept double guessing what to put #it might be a bit messy but thats because i never make references LOL #i need to draw exactly when his view of joja gets burst right before his eyes #i like to imagine its when he's talking to morris and they talk about times they've been shafted #and he realizes he's been treated like a damned idiot/treated like he was lazy for his disabilities #and he's like “ok well it could be worse”#then he realizes how he's been looked down on despite his continued unyielding technical efforts #i wanna talk about him more hhrhJHJHREJHRJER #hes my soggy wet cat guy

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morgana-artt · 7 months

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Romeo x Mechanic!Male!Reader (Part 1)

Spoilers for LoP

Notes: So I kinda went a bit off the rails on this one and wrote a lot more than I wanted to (especially in part 2 that I'll post tomorrow), my brain kinda went blank but I think (and hope) its still decent enough of a read. I suppose its a bit of a slow burn at first but I hope you Enjoy!

Reader is similar to Sophia and can channel ergo like she can.

_________________________________________

You ran and you ran FAST. What were you running from? Oh, just a group full of puppets that decided to make you their target and that wasn't fair, you were just some guy who enjoyed tinkering in mechanics! You could ramble on that for a while but you needed to get to safety, you were at the hotel but didn't stay for long as you were on your way to what was called Alchemist's Isle for answers to your past and had to go through the Opera House in order to do so.

You panted as you zig zagged bewteen swipes from puppets to alleyways before finally reaching your first destination, you leaned against the statue in the garden out of breath. "This... sucks! All because I need to find- ugh...hopefully it'll be better inside" you spoke to yourself as you stood up straight and made your way into the big building. Opening the large doors you saw how huge this place actually was and despite it seeing better days it still looked beautiful, you looked around not hearing anything before making your way up the stairs and saw a door way further into the building, "This looks like it goes through the main part...'suppose I'll go through there..." you mumbled to yourself before going through the doors.

You gulped as you saw a swinging chandelier, "Are you fucking kidding me? One hit and I'm screwed..." you cursed to yourself as you watched the giant fire basket swing side to side, you took a deep breath before getting ready and once it swung to the left you bolted just in time but as you did the one wooden pole that helped you cross snapped in half and broke into the hole. You stared at it, "Well...no going back." you said as you turned to the double doors in front of you plated with gold. You walked towards it pushed the heavy doors and you were met with...a sad disaster.

What would've been a beautiful ballroom of somesort was instead a burnt down ruined stage, you frowned at this something clearly went on long ago judging by how rotten the wooden had gotten but what you also noticed was a body propped up against a giant rundown puppet- or you hoped it was runned down. It had been a year or so when the puppet frenzied calmed down but that didn't stop the few puppets around Krat from attempting to hurt anything that passed them just like yourself.

With very careful steps, at first you throught you were approaching a dead human but no...it was a puppet. It looked badly burnt with half it's face broken off, it had blonde hair and despite the state it was in you could tell it- or he you should say- was quite a handsome puppet. Almost prince like. You shook your head, now was not the time to admire the puppet, you saw his head down and eye closed and crouched to his level. "You look like you went through hell..." you mumbled to yourself, now despite knowing how dangerous these things can be you couldn't help but feel sorry for them as you did stumble upon a few puppets that were friendly and even helped repair a few. This one really interested you but it was a gamble- was this puppet friendly or mad crazed like so many others? You decided to take the risk.

You walked around the puppet and analyzed it, didn't seem TOO bad...yeah he was burnt to shit but none of his internal scraps had been broken. Now you had a power that not many people knew about, you could give ergo to puppets and understand them, you can't remember much but it started to develope later in your teens- it was probably why you felt so intune with puppets you could LITERALLY feel their 'souls' give or take.

Using your handkerchief that was tied around your belt you dusted the soot off the puppet and began to rummaged through your bag, you only had a few tools with you and tighened some lose parts on the puppet next to you. You kneeled in front of him and moved some of his hair away from his face, he really was a handsome fellow but it made you sad at the state of his face maybe you could repair it? If he hasn't killed you yet.

With a deep breath you placed your hand where your heart was, ergo began to twist around your hand before you placed it against the chest of the puppet. You waited. and waited. and waited.

Nothing. You furrowed your eyebrows as usually this would work within seconds, guess the poor thing really was damaged. You began to tinker around him a little longer.

Romeos P.O.V

Something in you had awaken, how? Gepettos puppet had freed you so why did you feel you had awaken from a deep slumber? You heard ruffling and breathing...? You opened your good eye, it was blurry at first but you noticed a moving figure in front of you, talking to itself...a human? Your eyesight cleared up as you were faced into a chest, the person you saw the chest of was bent a little over you looking at your back as you felt a few tugs. You didn't dare to move. What if it was that bastard Gepetto again?Wasn't being brought back to life in a puppet not good enough? He had to be brought back again? No...he can't go through with that...the responsiblitlies...the pain...the desperation. If he could cry he would, he couldn't go back to that. He watched as the person in front of him moved back to look into their bag, Romeo took note of a soft looking man in front of him. It was a human but thankfully not the one he hated but how did you bring him back? He lost his ergo so how could you...were you special? Maybe. He watched you in curiosity as you mumbled to yourself about him not working. The young man in front of you had soft (H/C) and piercing (E/C) eyes, and despite looking like a cat that ran through a hedge head first you were pretty nice looking to him.

The man in front of you turned his gaze to you before jumping following up with a little yelp, "You're...awake? It worked!" you watched the man puff in pride, "Ah...My names (Y/N). Do you have one...?" he asked, you slowly lifted your head a little but it immediately went back down- you had little to no energy in you right now apart from your eye. "I-I-I....R-R-" you tried to speak but it came out so statically and robotic, the guy in front of you smiled softly with encouragement, "You don't have to tell me now, I'm guessing you went through a lot judging by how burnt you are" the man spoke, were you really that damaged? "R-R...Rom..eo" You managed to get out, the person smiled at that. "Well, Romeo. It's nice to meet you, I've only given you enough ergo to start up hence why you're only able to move barely. Of course I can take it out if you no longer wish to live" the man gave you a choice, something you didn't get at first.

You glanced at the one in front of you before trying to lift your arm towards the persons face- you struggled and before your arm fell, the stranger- who himself called (Y/N)- grabbed it in time. He felt soft and warm...you hadn't felt that in a really long time. It was nice.

Your P.O.V

You took a hold of the puppets- now named Romeo- hand into yours, You felt pity and it was clear as day he was conflicted on whether staying alive or not. "How about this- You stay here and I'll gather more ergo which hopefully will give you more strength with it and you can decide later, hm? Of course you can ask me to piss off" you laughed dryly. The puppet stared at you making you feel a little flustered, you weren't used to such things and what made it worse was how Romeo had a hold of your fingers and was staring at them, "Ahem, well...I should be off to get some more ergo, yes? Don't worry, I'll come back" you whispered but felt the tightened grip on your fingers, "N-NO...no...fragile..." Romeo spoke, you frowned. Fragile? Was he scared for you? "Romeo, If you want to even lift your head up I'll have to give you more ergo and I can only give you so much from myself" you tried to reason with the puppet. Romeo was confliced but softly nodded. He let go and you stood up, "as to show my promise I'll leave this with you!" you then gave him a necklace, "it belonged to a dear friend of mine...it means a lot and I'm putting it in your possession till I come back!" You looked down at him. "I'll come back...promise" and with that you walked off to hopefully find enough ergo for your new friend.

As Romeo sat and waited he inspected the necklace, what you had said felt familiar to him- with the dear friend...a promise...it felt sort of like a Déjà Vu for him. He surprised himself with the hope he felt of wanting you to come back, he hoped you did you were...nice. He liked you, you seemed like a good person. Like someone else he knew but has long been forgotten.

#lies of p #lies of p romeo #lies of p x reader #romeo x reader #morganaawrites

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all-things-ghostly · 4 months

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Just One Touch - Skull x Reader Lockwood & Co.

I’ve been in this fandom for nearly a year and for the entirety of it I’ve been obsessed with this little green asshole. And honestly I’m flabbergasted that I haven’t been able to find ANY x reader fics of Skull on any site. Maybe this just says something about me lmao. But in case there’s any other ghost lovers out there, this one’s for us 🫡 I got some inspiration from Elemental :)

The very idea of it screamed forbidden.

Skull knew you could never love him. You were a mortal, and he was a ghost. No one has ever heard of such a thing, and if they did, they’d probably be crowding at the door with pitchforks the next day. He had little hope that you would be into to the idea of such a relationship either.

And frankly? He wasn’t quite sure why he liked you himself. He typically hated people like you. The sweet and loving type; the type of person that would go out of their way to make others happy. He's never quite understood the concept of looking out for anyone other than yourself. To him, such kindness was a weakness that would surely get you killed at some point.

Maybe it was the fact that you were a Listener, like Lucy. A good one, too. The two of you were the only people who could communicate with him, so I suppose he’s bound to form at least some kind of bond with you at one point or another. But… no, it went beyond just that. If that were the case, he would’ve just fallen for Lucy. There was something… different about you.

He thinks it’s the way you treat him like no one else does. Shockingly, you seem to decently respect the guy. Everyone else throws insults in his face (although, to be fair, he starts it), never truly trusts him, looks down on him for being a ghost, and in the case of George, hardly cares about his wellbeing… but you were always nice to him. He would’ve found it annoying, he should’ve found it annoying, but he can’t. Skull loves the way to talk to him like an equal. Most nights, his jar will be safely tucked away on top of your nightstand, so he can talk with you long into the night. The two of you could talk about anything—your life, his life, any struggles you’re going through, the awesome movie you just watched. And, you’re shocked to find that the ghost actually has quite a bit of wisdom to him, considering his usual snark. He will put in an effort to comfort you with his words when it’s needed. It’s a side to him only you know.

You had grown deeply attached to one another in the couple of years that you knew each other. Even if you liked to admit it much more than he did. Although, he didn’t really need to admit it… you knew that old ghost cared about you. Lucy did, too. She heard the way Skull’s voice grew warmer whenever he spoke to you. She noticed how he rarely ever said anything remotely cruel or snarky to you. She saw his face soften up whenever he watched you walk by, those green eyes of his staring with a sad and deep longing for you. Lucy could tell that the little ghost was pining for you, and boy, did she tease him BAD for it.

But… he never got to tell you.

He was going to. At some point, anyways. But unfortunately the explosion at Fittes got to him first.

Of course, you were the one who grieved the most after this. There had been no response from him for nearly two weeks. Every day you clutched the burnt skull close to your chest, hoping to feel anything, anything at all… it broke your heart to even look at it. The bone had turned brown and black from char, and it had a large crack running up the right eye socket all the way down the back of the head. The other socket had melted in a way that created a sad and droopy appearance.

Skull thought he would be ready to move on after this. He really did. But every time he felt his soul slipping away, he stopped himself. It wasn’t that he feared death anymore, no—if that were the case, he wouldn’t have sacrificed himself to save the rest of you in the first place. This time, he felt he had some unfinished business.

It took him so long, much longer than he would’ve liked, but eventually he gathered the energy to connect back with his injured Source and return to the mortal world. Of course, he was right by your bedside, as usual. It warmed him to see how you’ve been taking such meticulous care of his skull ever since the incident. And then, when his eyes fell on you, the heartache started up all over again. The confusing mixture of love, passion, and pain.

“Y/n?” Skull whispered, struggling to fight back a mess of emotions swirling up inside of him. He wanted so badly to reach out and wrap you in his embrace. The ghost was so caught up in his emotions that he didn’t even realize he was free until now; the jar was gone, which means he was no longer bound.

You were in a similar state of shock upon seeing him, and stood up from your bed with tears forming in your eyes.

“Skull…?”

In front of you was something you never thought you’d see: a young ghost, similar in age to you, gazing at you with the most caring eyes you’ve ever seen. His skin was a lime green that glowed slightly in the darkness of the room. He wore a white dress shirt that tucked into his dark gray pants, which were held up with matching suspenders. His hair was a slightly darker shade of green than the rest of him, and although it was messy, it looked absolutely adorable on him. You have to admit, he’s one handsome ghost.

The more you looked at him and let the situation sink in, you realized that the urge to hug him was just as strong for you, too. But unlike him, you didn’t hold back. You stepped towards him with your arms spread out, more than willing to take the leap and finally hold the ghost you grew to love.

Skull, however, took a step back.

“No, Y/n… we can’t,” he said with a deep frown, looking down at his feet. “I could hurt you. The Ghost Touch…”

A frown spread across your features, too. You knew that he was right. Ghost Touch was still a possibility and could kill you if you made contact with him.

“Can’t we at least try, though?” You ask, a more hopeful look replacing your sad expression. “You never know. Maybe things are different for us.”

“How can things be different, Y/n?” He says, sounding a little strained. “You’re the only one with any sort of common sense around this bunch, you should use it. My ectoplasm is like poison. If you touch it, you die. There’s no other way of putting it.”

“But there could be! Just look at Marissa and Ezekiel. They touched each other loads of times!”

Skull thinks about that for a little while, and then smirks. “I suppose you’re right about that. There was certainly a little something going on between those two idiots,” he chuckles to himself. Then, his tone goes back to being more serious. “But, still. Their circumstances were complicated. I think it’s better if we just play it safe. I’m sorry.”

You look visibly disappointed, and Skull does too. He ponders his words for a moment and speaks up again.

“Believe me, Y/n… I want this just as much as you do. Maybe even more.”

He then sighs deeply, and this catches your attention.

“Look… there’s a reason I returned here. Personally, I could gladly go without ever seeing some of these ‘eccentric’ people again,” he scoffs, clearly thinking about a certain egotistical leader and bespectacled boy. “Lucy… it’s safe to say I’ve formed an attachment to her, as much as she begrudges me. Although, I suppose I don’t charm her all too much, either. But you, Y/n… I hate to say it, but you genuinely mean something to me.”

Skull has to pause for a little moment again. It seems that this is all very hard for the green ghost to admit. He’s not used to being vulnerable like this, and feels like somewhat of a hypocrite for being sensitive when he so often gives others a hard time for behaving the same way.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He sniffles. The ghost has begun to cry.

“I never knew how to say it until it was too late. But I love you. So much more than you could ever know, more than I ever knew I could. I could hardly believe myself once I realized I was starting to feel this way. I wanted so badly to deny it, to push it down… usually I would just find people like you to be a pathetic twit, never anyone I would fall in love with.”

Skull chuckles in a bittersweet way. “Who knew. Looks like this crude old ghost still has a heart in him after all.”

It takes a moment for you to process all of these words. You never knew he felt this way about you. You just thought all of those little “hints” were just him messing around as he always does. There’s a slight moment of silence that fills the air as you think through what he says.

Skull cuts it off. “So, believe me, Y/n. There’s nothing I want more than to hold you, to kiss you. But I’m sorry, my love. I cannot risk losing you. I would never be able to live with that guilt.”

Another moment of silence, this time slightly more solemn.

“Isn’t that exactly why we should try it?” You ask in a soft voice, a little smile forming on your lips. “If anyone’s worth risking it all for… it’s you, Skully. I love you too.”

A sob wracks its way out of Skull’s throat the moment those words hit his ears. A green hand quickly covers his mouth as the tears stream down his face, muffling his further cries. He's not used to acting this way at all but there’s just something about you that allows him to feel vulnerable and break down his walls. Teary eyes meet with yours, and you can sense deep emotion within them.

When you step closer to him, he doesn’t fight it this time. He just stands there and cries, still covering his mouth, and never taking his eyes off yours.

Then, you reach out… and gently wipe a tear away.

More silence.

Your hand lingers there for a moment. A thumb caresses his cheek. Nothing happens.

You and Skull glance at each other with the same shocked expression, still in complete silence, before your hand moves again. You lovingly cup his face. Then pet his hair. Then grab his shoulders.

Nothing.

The silence is broken when Skull’s sobbing resumes. His hands shake intensely as he reaches up to grab your wrists. This ghost boy has been touch starved beyond belief and he hasn’t even realized it until now when he finally feels your gentle touch. Suddenly you find him scooping you up in the tightest of hugs, his hands wandering every part of your body they can touch, memorizing every curve, every feature… all while he weeps. You retaliate the affection by giving him those soft touches he has already fallen in love with and kissing his forehead and cheeks.

“Y/n, my darling…” He whispers, pulling you into another strong embrace once again. “Oh, dearest…”

He simply melts right into you once you hug him back. Years of pining, tension, and heartache melt right off of him. All he feels now is peace, love, and pure joy. The things he thought he could only dream of having.

It’s up to you to take the initiative and kiss him, since he seems far too preoccupied in just the feeling of your hugs. Soft ectoplasmic lips meet yours and the two of you fit together like it was always meant to be. Poor Skull still cannot believe the luck he has.

But rest assured, he now knows that he has you. And he will never, ever let you go.

#lockwood and co #skull #the skull #skull in a jar #lockwood & co #reader insert #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #comfort character #ghost #x reader #my writing #fluff #Skull x reader #The skull x reader #lockwood and co x reader

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curekibouka-writing · 1 year

Text

Heart of Stone (Twst one-shot fanfic)

***SPOILERS for Glorious Masquerade***

Summary: “Sure, we might have stone for hearts,” the gargoyle lightly punched Rollo’s chest, “but you don’t, you know?”

Word count: 1705

*This fic is also on Ao3

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A/N: Aaaaaaaaa this event! Aaaaaaa the angst!! And aaaaaaaaa OMG I LOVE THESE MOBS! Anyway a friend wanted to see the follow-up with the gargoyles and I wanted to write the NBC mobs (my precious cinnamon rolls) so here we are~

Also I am an unabashed Hunchback of Notre Dame (including the musical) fan and I put in references like nobody’s business hahahahaha

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Dear Diary,

I have taken time to reflect upon the words those Night Raven College scoundrels had left me with. They are of questionable moral character, but on the grounds of my fair virtues, I shall not render one’s arguments as nonsense solely because of their character.

Reading back through my previous entries, I now notice how frequently I had excused my own anger and hatred and phrased it as if it were the will of my late little brother. And I have come to the painful realisation that such excuses are chipping away at my scarce memories of him, silencing his real voice. I laugh at my folly, how could I have disrespected you so, dear brother? Now I barely remember you, your blissful childish giggles and all the hope you had in magic. I barely remember all the fun we had, the pride you had when you cast a successful spell, and the pride I had for you. You were so bright.

But piece by piece I will try to recall. The festival decorations are finally being put away down in town, I can see it all here on the bell tower. I remember how you used to whine when it ends, and how I held your hand—

“Hey, Rollo! Whatcha doin’?”

Rollo barely stopped himself from crumpling his diary page from the gargoyle’s booming voice.

Ah yes, it’s the noisy one who befriended Malleus Draconia, Rollo sighed to himself.

“Whatcha writing? Care to show me?”

His voice was cut off by a clack as an older gargoyle whacked him on the head, “Now he doesn’t have to show you nothing, you chatterbox!”

Rollo slammed shut his diary before the older gargoyle hopped to him, he has no words for these moving statues, they would never understand.

No one ever understands.

“Rollo, child,” the older gargoyle kept her distance, “there’s no need to tell us if you aren’t ready. But it’s been a few days, we only want to check up on you.”

No one else has cared, why would they?

“We wish we could’ve approached you before all this happened but—“

See? They think he was wrong too.

“Yes I am quite fine,” Rollo waved his hands impatiently, but his next sentence grew quieter, “I do not need another lecture on my past.”

“But you need to face it, child.”

He did not like the way she talked to him. It didn’t feel like anyone else in his life before. It felt as if he was really a child, as if he did not grow one bit from then, as if the fire engulfing him never burnt him in the slightest yet he never took one step outside.

“I know.” He looked away.

“And we see you trying.” The smile was apparent in her voice. They have watched from afar when he writes his diary, they have seen the way his countenance was no longer tensed, his eyes were no longer strained, no longer suppressing the truths that threatened to spill out.

“You’re not lying to yourself anymore,” she sounded proud, “So how about you try being true to others too, eh?”

He scoffed, “I must be quite desperate if I have to be true to hearts of stone like yours.”

The noisier gargoyle cut in, “Sure, we might have stone for hearts,” lightly punching Rollo’s chest, “but you don’t, you know?”

Rollo wanted to back away, but the gargoyles did first, returning to their normal positions. The older one leaving him with a wink and one more gentle push, “Step into the light, child. Nobody wants to stay cooped up forever.”

Before he could ask what they meant, he heard voices calling out to him a storey or two below, “President Rollo~! Are you up there?”

Their voices were swathed in layers of echo, but they call out to him like this far too often for him to not recognise them. He took a glance at his diary, quickly slipped it into the folds of his robe, and called back, “Yes, what’s the matter?”

He heard hasty footsteps rushing up the the wooden stairs, and soon a head of hazel coloured hair popped up from the staircase.

The vice president of the student board, slightly short of breath, beamed brightly upon spotting Rollo, “There you are! We’ve been looking for you!”

“Yes. I can tell. What’s the matter?” He found that he occasionally has to repeat himself when talking to them, though it strangely does not exasperate him.

The aide also made his way up, “We promised to have an after-party once the exchange is over, didn’t we? We thought that, well, things have finally settled down in school after these few days, it’s the perfect time.”

“Your injuries have not fully recovered so we thought takeaway would be better than eating out. We brought pastries from your favourite bakery, oh and cups for the grape juice, we’ll need something to toast with after all!”

“Come on down and share a meal with us! It’s a chilly night, we wouldn’t want the croissants to go cold.”

Rollo tapped his fingers on the desk thrice, he shall keep the fact that he did not remember ever agreeing to an after-party a secret, perhaps he just misremembered… having been preoccupied with other matters.

“Well, thank you for bringing the food all the way up here. I suppose I should… indulge.” His expression softened, slowly rising to his feet and followed them to the floor below, where everything in sight shimmered in a thin coat of moonlight.

The vice president and aide chattered passionately about the good memories from the exchange while setting the table, about the friends they’d met and how much of an honour it had been to show them around the city.

“Truly, president Rollo, you are a genius to have thought of this activity!”

“Thank goodness the flower incident was dealt with in time. And it was all thanks to president Rollo’s hard work that we could still have the masquerade the next day.”

“It could not have been made possible without the hard work of you two,” Rollo lifted the corner of his mouth stiffly in a polite smile.

“Oh please, you are just being modest again. We all know the time and effort you put in, we barely even saw you have a proper meal during the hectic days of preparation!”

“Not to mention we passed out while you and the students from Night Raven saved us all, how humiliating. How we wished we could have been of use to you more!”

The corner of Rollo’s mouth twitched.

They finished setting the table and pouring three cups of juice.

“Now let’s toast to the success of such a huge event!”

“President Rollo, would you please?”

The aide passed him a cup, and they both looked to him, there was light in their eyes.

The paper cup felt heavier than stone in his hand. And for a moment he was overwhelmed with thoughts — thoughts that he could be freed from this.

“I have something important to say.”

The moonlight was as if a gentle drizzle, pooling around his feet, ridding him of the shackles of flames so that he can take a step forward.

But would the people out there accept him? Or revile him?

Out there in the cruel, ugly world — a world that he had a hand in molding — is he a man, or a monster?

These two had always looked up to him, always thought that he was fair and just and right. So what if they find out he was not?

Would they spurn him? Hate him? Curse him? Would they no longer call out his name and worry for him and invite him for a meal and happily work with him on student board matters?

Would they fear him?

He feared that.

He stood still.

“You two…” the cup felt even heavier, “I want you two to know, at least, that I had not been the one to save you, or anyone.”

He turned away from the light of the moon, “I froze in fear… I cannot do the right thing.”

That was enough. That was the most he could say right now. He could hardly stop his hands from trembling already.

“But… that’s only normal, is it not? The vice president began, somewhat jokingly, “I mean, what kind of monster would be fearless in that chaos?”

“It must’ve been hard to face it all alone,” the aide deduced, “I’m sorry we couldn’t be there with you.”

“It would not have been—!” Rollo almost snapped, but held himself back. He reached for his handkerchief to cover his wavering lips.

And he gave thought to it. Yes, perhaps it could have been different. He knew these two well, he knew how helpful and kind they could be, he knew they each have proficient magic powers.

Although he would never know if things could have been different, if they could go back far, far in time, if they were with him back then.

“We know you, president Rollo, we trust that you always have proper reasons for what you do. And you always take responsibility for it too.”

“We at least try to understand you, always, and on the basis of what we do understand, we truly think you are an great, respectable person.”

They just don’t understand. They just don’t understand the weight of all he had done.

He was a monster. But he was not.

He wanted to trust them. He wanted to trust them now.

But we are always blind to some parts of the truth.

Out there is a cruel, ugly world, and he had refused to see the times and the people when it isn’t. But the light is shining on them now, and he could try again to see.

“Thank you,” he stowed away his handkerchief.

Stepping out of this fear will take time, but now the moonlight softly held his trembling hand, sharing the weight of the stone with him. He raised his cup, “Allow me to raise a toast for the two of you. I am glad to be in the student board with you.”

#twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #twst rollo #rollo flamm #rollo flamme #twst halloween #twst glorious masquerade #twst masquerade #glorious masquerade #noble bell college #nbc mobs #twst event #twst writing #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #twisted wonderland writing #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twst scenarios

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