#i think i may have made her a bit bigger than shes supposed to be but like. thats okay :)

[skitskatdacat63]

If anyone(read: nobody) was curious about Ustinya's scale :D

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 1

Summary: “Harry is a retired boxer who owns a gym and teaches self-defense classes. He considers himself a strong man, but when a gorgeous innocent woman attends a try-out class, she manages to leave him weak in the knees…”

Wc: 4.3k

Tropes: boxer!Harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and SA

A/N: hello everyone! This is my new series NFWMB, named after one of Hozier’s most horny songs😄. I am so incredibly excited for this series omg it’s gonna be so good!!! If you don’t believe me, go listen to NFWMB and you’ll get a vague idea of what’s coming ;)

P.S. header = pov change

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Harry Styles was not one for regrets.

His life may not have turned the way he expected it to, but he was still proud of where he had come.

Being a professional boxer was a risky job, and Harry had known that when he had decided that it was going to be his career. But there was no other logical option. Harry was an exceptional boxer who was able to go pro at age 18, where he defeated a lot of men who were older and bigger than him.

It was his passion, it always had been. Which was something that was quite remarkable, especially to his closer family members, because Harry was anything but a violent person in his day to day life. He was quite reserved, and managed his temper very well. The years in the boxing ring did harden him quite a bit, his reserved nature developing into something more akin to stoicism.

Nevertheless, Harry loved boxing. It wasn't so much a fight to him, but more of a puzzle. Each opponent had its own made up riddle, and it was up to Harry to solve it as quick as possible. Much like a dance you learn the steps to along the way. A perfect combination of intuitive technique.

He hadn't planned on having to retire at the age of 27 already. It was supposed to be his peak; it had been for almost all boxers in history, and he was looking forward to how far he would be able to push his body during his prime.

He never got the opportunity to get an answer to those questions. A car accident got in the way.

He wouldn't have been able to stop it, he knew that, and he had forbidden himself from thinking about what could've happened had he not taken that specific road back home that horrible night. There was nothing he could do about it now, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

After a year of recovery, he was slowly able to get back into the rhythm of his old life again. Well, except for the boxing part. Knowing that his career in that field was over, he began thinking about some other options of his, and decided on fulfilling another dream of his: opening a gym.

He had always wanted to do it, but he always imagined to be retired by the time he would start on that.

Now, two years later, his gym was already in multiple locations, but Harry was still working at the first one he opened. He would visit the other ones every once in a while to see how everything was going, but he was mainly at the one nearest to his house. It was special to him, the place where it all started.

Despite running the place, and therefore not needing to be on location all the time, Harry was at the gym 24/7. He wasn't a personal trainer—wasn't really his style—but he would help people and teach self defense classes to women.

Every Thursday between 6 and 9, he would teach groups of ten women everything they needed to know on defending themselves from whatever threat they may run into. It was one of the things he was proudest of; the turn out at those classes. That these women put their trust in him, and let him help them become even tougher than they already were.

Tonight, after teaching the last group, Harry had gone to the bar with some of his friends. One of them was Sophie, a woman he had become friends with since she'd joined his self defense class. She was a great person with an impeccable sense of humor, and Harry was glad he had introduced her to Greg, his best friend. They were basically made for each other.

Harry had to admit that he envied his friend for the relationship he had. He was happy for them, but sometimes couldn't help but think that his lack of a partner was this one puzzle piece that would make his life even better. All in good time, he reminded himself.

"Hey," Sophie caught Harry's attention when she waved her hand in front of his face. His gaze shot to hers, eyebrows raised. "So, I was talking about your self defense class today at work. You know, promoting your business and all."

Harry chuckled at the cocky tone in which Sophie told her story, chin up high. He mumble a soft 'thanks', to which she grinned.

"You're welcome. Anyways, I have this new colleague and she seemed so intrigued by it, but she was too insecure about joining. I mean— she didn't outright say that, but I could just tell." She huffed, Greg rubbing her back. Sophie was a very happy person in general and wanted the best for everyone, this new colleague of hers included. Harry had the same habit, it's why he immediately suggested:

"Why don't you invite her along next week? A free try-out."

"But your try-out classes aren't for another two weeks." Sophie noted.

It was true. The self defense classes had become very popular, and since Harry taught them himself, he had scheduled one night of try-out classes a month. He was only able to take on so many people, but he didn't mind making this exception.

"She can join your regular class." Harry shrugged, and Sophie's eyes beamed with excitement.

"Thank you Harry!" She squealed happily, giving Greg a hug to channel her enthusiasm. "Oh, I hope she'll come along!"

"I'm sure she will." Harry assured her with a smile, and took another sip from his beer.

Y/N had never been one for risks.

She had never been the type of person to take the leap of faith, relying more on familiar feeling of security. Why risk hurting yourself when you could be safe and content?

It was the logic she had always operated with, the logic she had been taught from a very young age. Y/N had had a sheltered upbringing. Her parents wanted her and her little brother to be as safe as possible, and that was just fine to Y/N.

Her little brother was the more feisty one of the two, and his childhood consisted of a lot of fighting. It hurt Y/N to see the people she loved so much be so angry all the time, and it only motivated her to be as good as possible. She never drank, smoked, or went to parties. She turned in her homework early and got an A on almost every test. It did put a strain on her relationship with her brother, especially since Y/N's behavior would be used as ammunition towards him.

They still didn't talk all too much, but Y/N hoped that one day, she could repair that relationship again.

Moving a few towns away was a big deal for her parents, but the wonderful job she had gotten as a secretary at quite a prestigious law firm had made it all worth it. They helped her with moving into her apartment, but Y/N would regularly visit them on both weekdays and on the weekends. All in all, she'd had a safe, comfortable, content life.

Until a few months ago.

It was a Friday night, and Y/N had agreed to a date. One of the lawyers at the firm, Oscar, had been flirting with her ever since she started working there. Not wanting to be impolite, Y/N never outright rejected him, and so the flirting continued. She was a bit uncomfortable about it — especially since he was nearing his forties and she was only 23 — but figured the banter was part of the job. She was so shocked when he did ask her to go on a date, she said yes.

It wouldn't be too bad, she figured. She would just go on the date and tell him she wasn't interested afterwards. It could be casual, and no one would be too hurt. The date was definitely out of her carefully moderated comfort zone, but she would step out of it for one night.

The date was fine. Like she had expected, she wasn't interested in Oscar in a romantic way. Still, she listened to his stories, laughed right on cue at all his jokes, and told some of her own anecdotes as well. The dinner was great, and he even offered to walk her home.

They were nearing Y/N's apartment when Oscar had suddenly slowed down his walking pace. She only noticed when she was a few feet away from him, and walked back to where Oscar was standing.

"Are you okay? We're almost there, I promise." Y/N smiled politely, much like she did in the office. Oscar didn't say anything in response, only the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" He  complimented her, and Y/N looked at her feet, not quite knowing how to handle the flattery.

"Thank you." She said softly, and froze when Oscar's fingers tilted her chin upwards. Her eyes widened when he suddenly leaned in and put his mouth on hers. After the first few seconds of pure shock slowly passed, Y/N pulled her head back.

Not getting the hint, Oscar grinned and leaned in again, this time with both his hands on her face. Y/N let out a yelp, stumbling backwards. Her body's alarm bells were ringing so loudly, but Oscar must've been deaf to her body language because he backed her up against the wall and kept kissing her.

Y/N cried out as she tried to push Oscar off with her hands, but he only grabbed them and pinned them above her head. Finally, not knowing what else to do, she lifted her knee and kicked him right in the crotch. Oscar shot backwards, groaning loudly as his grip finally loosened on her. He looked incredibly angry.

"What the fuck?!" He bellowed, standing up straight again. Y/N's lip quivered, tears running down her face.

"You wouldn't stop." She said softly, almost in a whisper. Her entire body was shaking from the adrenaline. Oscar's mouth opened to say something, but the conversation got interrupted.

"Oscar!" A woman's voice shouted from down the street. He turned his head, and his face morphed from sheer rage into a lovely smile, the same one he always put up for Y/N back in the office.

"Sophie!" He said, but the mention of her name sounded strained. Sophie... Y/N recognized her name, but she hadn't ever met the woman. She was one of the three female lawyers at the firm. Had been working there for only five years, but her reputation was so badass, everyone knew who she was.

"What are you doing out tonight?" Sophie asked as she gave Oscar a hug, and turned to Y/N. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N." Oscar replied. "She's a secretary at the firm."

"Nice to meet you." Y/N extended her hand, and Sophie shook it.

"Nice to meet you too! How come I've never seen you around?" She tilted her head.

"I— I work on a different floor."

"Well, I'm glad I met you, Y/N!" She said, the kindness in her tone being a real comfort after that scary moment she just had to live through. Somewhere in the way she said it, and in the way her eyes softened slightly, it almost felt like Sophie knew.

"I— I should go. It's getting pretty late." Y/N decided that this could be her sweet escape.

"Right, I'm gonna bring Y/N home." Oscar said, and your eyes shot to him. Anxiety filled your lungs until all you could breathe was fear. You didn't want to be alone with him. You had no idea what he would be able to do to you. What were you going to do about it? You weren't even half as strong as he was.

"Oh, which way is it?" Sophie asked, turning to Y/N, who was about to open her mouth but got interrupted by Oscar.

"That way." He pointed toward the direction of Y/N's house. Sophie side eyed her colleague, then nodded.

"Exactly the way I was going! Let's go." She hooked her arm into Y/N's, and began walking, ranting about how it was unacceptable that they didn't work on the same floor.

Y/N wordlessly nodded along, filled with gratefulness to Sophie or the universe—or both—for not leaving her alone with Oscar again.

She got home safely about five minutes later, not daring to look Oscar in the eyes as she hugged him and said goodbye, and she only allowed her tears to fall down her cheek when she closed her front door.

Y/N spent the rest of the weekend in bed, not in the mood to do anything. By Monday, she felt both better and worse. She had had some time to come down from the shock of what happened, but the terror that filled her at the realization that she was to see Oscar again, had her stomach turn. On Monday morning, she even got into work late as a result of a wave of nausea that hit her once she'd grabbed her keys, spending the time she used to drive to work to puke her guts out instead.

Later, she'd found out that Oscar had called in sick that day. It gave her some time and space to breathe. Sophie visited her the same day, and she hadn't stopped visiting since.

Oscar did eventually return to work, but they never talked anymore. Y/N didn't dare to look him in the eye, and she avoided him at all costs. One day, about two weeks after everything happened, she did see him waiting by her cubicle, but she hid in the toilet for half an hour and by the time she returned he was gone.

It had been two months since that horrible event, and Y/N had entirely isolated herself. Back to the normal routine, back to what was familiar. It gave her a sense of control. She was fragile, and sensitive. She had just pressed down her sadness and anxiety that lingered as a result from the date, and instead focused entirely on what she could control.

She figured it would be easier. Well, except for the mental breakdowns she'd get when something small didn't go right. The dishes not being cleaned, her vacuum not taking up every speck of dust; it just set her off. It wasn't healthy, but she had no idea how else to deal with these things.

When Sophie mentioned she was following self-defense classes a couple weeks ago, Y/N's ears had perked up. She tried to be subtle about it; asking questions to pry some information about the classes from her. But, being the amazing lawyer she was, it didn't go over Sophie's head, and before she knew it she had an invite to a class.

"See you next week!" Harry exclaimed as the last of the women from the 7pm class left the room. He was still busy putting everything back into place before the next class which would commence in about five minutes.

He was just about done with everything when Sophie walked in, another girl walking in close behind her. Harry couldn't really make up her face, as she stayed closely behind Sophie, even upon nearing him.

Sophie looked proud, probably feeling very accomplished about the fact that she had been able to convince this colleague of hers to take her up on her offer.

"Hey!" She greeted Harry cheerfully, giving him a quick hug. He was still smiling when he turned to the woman standing next to Sophie. His mouth went a bit dry when he took in her face.

"Harry, this is Y/N."

For starters, she was a bit shorter than Sophie, and quite frail too. Her hair was up in a ponytail, leaving her features to be admired out in the open. Her eyes were soft—radiating mostly insecurity at the moment—and wide. Those Bambi eyes and plump, rosy lips...

She looked so... innocent?

He wasn't sure if it was the right word, but he was sure that he had to say something before the silence became too long.

"Hi Y/N." He repeated her name, seeing the slightest flicker of surprise run through the eyes of the woman in front of him. But the slight relaxation of her body told him that his usual trick was working. It was a typical 'strategy' that he would often use with people who were a bit unsure about him. His voice would soften, he would always wear a hint of a smile on his face, and he'd repeat people's names to create a bit more of a familiar environment. It always worked, and he was glad it did. He never wanted anyone, especially a woman, to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Hi." The corners of her mouth tugged up.

Angel.

That's all he could think of as he looked at her. Jesus Christ, she was beautiful.

"Thank you for joining the class. You don't have to join in on everything if you don't feel comfortable. Just observe and see if this is something you would like to practice more often, okay?"

The girl in front of him nodded intently the second he had finished talking. Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she peeped out an, "okay."

Harry grinned, his gaze shooting to Sophie—who was looking at him with this suspicious look on her face that she only got once in a while—before calling everyone in a circle and commencing the class.

This girl, Y/N, turned out to be a real distraction for him. He was so focused on trying to read how she was feeling that he trailed off during explanations a couple times. It was embarrassing, really. He was a grown man for God's sake, why couldn't he just concentrate?

Y/N only joined in for a couple of the basic movements, but she stayed back for most of the class. Her big eyes observed every movement Harry and the others made, impressed with how developed everyone seemed to be in their techniques. He noted that it only seemed to make her more timid, though.

His eyebrows kept knitting every time he looked at her, getting lost in his thoughts on how he could help her become more comfortable in his class. She'd caught his stare about halfway through the class, and at the way her eyes shot to the floor he realized that his gaze was actually doing the completed opposite of what he wanted to do, which was help her.

When the class ended, Harry gave his usual speech about how good everyone had done their job, and that he would see them all next week. Afterwards there would always be a couple of women hanging around to ask questions, and he would stop a few on their way out to compliment their improvements. When the rest of the women had left, Sophie walked up to Harry, Y/N following closely behind.

"Great class, Styles. Thanks for teaching me some ass kicking again." She teased, smiling at him before she took a sip from her water bottle.  Harry chuckled, shaking his head faintly.

"Glad you liked it." He turned to Y/N. "What about you?"

Her cheeks started heating up, mouth falling open ever so slightly. "M— me? Oh, uhm, yeah, pretty good."

"I'm going to use the bathroom really quick, I'll be right back." Sophie chimed in, and began walking towards the door. "Keep her company for me, will ya Styles?"

Harry almost laughed at how Y/N's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets at Sophie's announcement. She was nervous around him, and it was quite endearing, but she didn't need to be. Although it was very cute, Harry wanted her to be comfortable around her.

"You hated it, didn't you?" He said as soon as Sophie was out of sight. Harry was amused, watching Y/N scramble for words when she realized what he had said.

"What? No, no of course not! You're great! Teacher— you're a great teacher, I mean." She stumbled over every last one of her words, making it sound even less convincing than it already was, even though she did really mean it.

Harry solely raised his eyebrow, indicating that he did not buy any of that, and it was all it took for her shoulders to slump and a little sigh to leave those pretty lips of hers.

"It's really not you, I promise. I just get... a bit nervous in group settings, especially when it comes to sports. I don't even go to the gym." She confessed, and Harry nodded. That certainly made more sense. His heart warmed a bit at the fact that she reassured him that he wasn't the reason she wasn't liking the class all too much.

"Why don't you go to the gym?" Harry asked further, his tone soft. He didn't want to press too much, but he did want to know more about her.

"It's... embarrassing." She shrugged. Harry chuckled.

"I go to the gym all the time. I mean, I own this one. I can only imagine how embarrassing I must be."  He joked. He had to say he thought it was pretty funny, the way she blushed as he teased her.

"No, I didn't mean it like that! You're not embarrassing at all— I mean, you’re like the opposite. You're lean, and strong. You have like— big arms and you know what you're doing." She ranted, and had no idea how much Harry's ego was fueled by the compliments she was unknowingly throwing at him. "Whereas I— I have no idea what to do at a gym. I hate the idea of people being able to watch me and judge me if they want. Not that I think everyone's focusing on me all the time! I— I don't think that..."

Y/N's heart was racing as she finally got herself to stop talking. It was a nervous habit she had always possessed. As soon as something got awkward, her mouth would open and it would just never shut again. All communication skills flew out the window as soon as something — or in this case someone — made her nervous. She couldn't even remember half the words she just said.

"I can teach you, if you want."

The offer was as unexpected to Y/N as it was to Harry. He hadn't quite anticipated the words rolling off his tongue, but he didn't regret them either.

"It'll be a private class, and it can be in a closed room, like this one, or after closing time. Whatever suits you." Harry tried his hardest to sound casual, and not like what he was offering was something he literally never did. He had to hire a cleaner at home because he was too busy to get around to cleaning the house, that's how much he had to do. But the prospect of losing even more free time did not seem to bother him at all. In fact, he hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer as he scanned her face and waited for her to say something.

"No, I wouldn't want to ask that of you. I'm sure you're busy with a lot of other things." She declined politely, but he didn't miss the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Those private classes had sounded intriguing to her, he just knew it. So instead of accepting her rejection, he shrugged.

"How about this. I'm always in till late on Tuesday's. If you're sure you don't want private lessons, that's fine. But if it does sound like something you want to do, just be there at 9. I'll be there either way." Harry suggested. He didn't wait for a response — hearing Sophie's footsteps nearing — and instead said,

"Just think about it, alright?"

Y/N merely nodded, not even able to croak out a 'yes' before Sophie walked back into the room.

"Okay, I'm ready to go. Y/N?" Sophie asked, watching as her friend agreed and grabbed her things before walking towards the door where Sophie stood.

"Thanks for the class." Y/N turned around and smiled at Harry, throwing him a small wave as she started following Sophie out the door.

"Anytime." He winked at her.

"Bye Styles!" Sophie shouted, her keys clinking as she waved at Harry, behind her.

"Bye Soph." Harry called out, his eyes still transfixed on the girl behind his friend.

He didn't take her eyes off her as they walked towards the exit, taking in every detail of her delicate body as she moved further and further away from him. She was painstakingly beautiful. How had she just walked in? As soon as the girls disappeared behind the door, Harry let out a big sigh.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

He really hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer. Harry had very quickly and very suddenly developed this intense need to help the girl, and that couldn't mean anything good.

Maybe he'd never see her again. She did sound very unsure. Besides, who said that she even wanted to go to this class? For all Harry knew, Sophie could've just used her manipulative convincing tricks, and Y/N, the polite angel she was, would've felt too bad to decline. Maybe, she thought he was an ass and didn't want anything to do with him.

In spite of the countless theories flying through his head, he knew that she wanted it. He had seen it in her eyes. She did really want to join the class, she was simply too nervous. But whether she would take him up on the offer, that was the question. He'd have to wait until the following week.

Strangely enough, he couldn't wait until it was Tuesday. He couldn't wait to find out…

[orobaxis]

I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

-

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

-

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

-

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

-

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

-

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

-

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

-

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

[urinarythreatinfection]

may i ask for headcanons for crocodile x child reader where crocodile's daughter joins the strawhats post alabasta?

and the next time they meet in impel down, well. that's not even his daughter anymore. that's his son now.

thank you very much for the open requests!

(from @77v77)

Bet. My first time writing a trans character so I hope it turned out okay. I'm still not used to headcanons so this honestly came out more as a fic, I'm really sorry about that. If you want a redo I don't mind, sorry. I got kinda carried away with a storyline and it turned out like this.

It's Good To See The New You

Crocodile x FTM!Child!Reader. 1562 words. Author isn't trans but trying their best. Feel free to correct if I messed up. (D/N) Is deadname.

This is how your life is, you’ve accepted it. You’re the daughter of someone powerful, strong, rich, you should be happy; but you aren’t. These dresses aren’t making you happy, the people fawning over you aren’t either, even the small amount of attention you get from your father doesn’t truly make you happy. It’s only when something happens, something that was supposed to be negative, that you get a glimpse of what can be your happiness. How could you let it pass you by at that point? Call yourself your father’s daughter, you don’t let opportunities like this just leave. Of course, maybe daughter isn’t something to describe you anymore.

“Take me with you.” Is what you say to Luffy when he’s leaving.

“Hm?” He looks at you, recognizing who you are, and scowls slightly.

“Take me with you, I want to go with you.” You repeat and it only confuses him more, Luffy doesn’t like being confused either.

He thinks you’re trying to pick a fight at first, but when he realizes you aren’t he calms down a bit.

“I just beat up your dad, why do you wanna come with me?” He asks you.

“Because I want to. So let me on.”

“Wha- Don’t give me orders!”

You two end up getting into a small argument, call it childish but you aren’t used to being argued with by anyone other than your father.

Of course, it ends up working out, Luffy lets you on.

Robin even uses you as an excuse to get on as well, your partner in crime.

Luffy’s a little upset he kind of didn’t get as much of a choice as he’d like, but he got over it once Robin worked her charms. (Using her hands to help them make stupid jokes)

As for you, it took a while for you to warm up to them even though you’re the one who got on.

Something just still didn’t feel right.

You felt better than before, of course, but not as good as you’d like.

It’s only when Nami helps you pick out clothes that you realize that you’ve never truly chosen what you’ve wanted.

You were given options of course, but those options were picked from what your father wanted.

When you were looking at dresses Nami noticed you looking unhappy.

“You don’t have to wear a dress if you don’t want to, you know. You can wear something else.” She says casually.

In her mind it was just a fashion tip from one woman to another, something simple.

But to you it was so much more.

From then on you took things into your own hands.

Not just bossy with the things you’re given, but exploring to find your own choices.

You started dressing differently, which might seem so little but it felt so much bigger to you.

Time passes and it was the best choice you’ve ever made, it helped you become your true self.

The crew was confused at first, Sanji was even devastated, but it passed.

Sometimes Sanji still laments, but it’s more just because he was happy to have another woman to fawn over.

He gets over it, you’re happier this way.

You even get the privilege of not having the privilege of Sanji’s over-the-top affection.

Everything is so much better, so much brighter that you almost forget what your life was like before you were truly yourself.

That’s until you meet your father again, a reminder of who you were.

You know it's not his fault, he never bossed you around or told you you couldn’t be your true self.

He just wanted you to be someone that he could have confidently as his child, someone unbreakable; and that's what you were.

An unbreakable broken person.

That’s how you could describe him too, in the state he’s in.

Chained up and defeated, it makes your heart ache.

Even if he wasn’t the best father he was still yours.

He almost doesn’t recognize you at first, glaring at you until it clicks who you are.

“...(D/N)?” He calls to you and you almost flinch from the sound.

It brings shivers up your spine, even if you know it was from ignorance.

You don’t want to respond, not wanting to acknowledge that previous you; but decide it’s time to face it.

Crocodile himself, your father, isn’t the enemy that kept you captive.

“..Father.” You say to him.

“(D/N) you, what are you-”

“That’s not my name” You interrupt him, and it makes him pause.

Not your name?

How isn’t it your name? He named you himself!

“What are you talking about? I figured you joined that Strawhat’s crew but you changed your name for it? Were you..” He trails off, feeling hurt.

Were you that unhappy with him?

Why else would you change your name if not to try and get rid of your past?

You must be ashamed of him, he sure is.

Got beaten by a brat and ended up in a prison getting mistreated by people he could kill in a heartbeat, if only he had the chance to.

“Father.” You catch his attention, snapping him out of the trance of negativity he put himself into.

“It’s not you, if that’s what you were worried about.” You reassure him, and he scoffs.

“If not me what else? You sure seem a hell of a lot brighter now that you’re not with me.” His heart aches.

Despite not wanting to admit it he did have a soft spot for you.

You were his daughter, the small light he had in the darkness, whether the choice to have you was his or not.

“..It’s (Y/N).” You say quietly and he perks up, looking at you closer.

You look different, more different than he realized at first.

“You’ve changed.”

“I know.” There’s a silence.

Crocodile isn’t one to pry, he didn’t pry even when you were his daughter.

“Are you happier?” He asks you, like a sentimental fool.

Your eyes go wide, but they calm as you smile.

“I am, I’m so much happier.”

“Good. Make sure you stay on the other side of these bars, too, (Y/N).” Your father says and your heart clenches.

You’re happy, but sad at the same time.

Here you are, your true self with friends that care about you, meeting your Father again.

This should be happy for you, there shouldn’t be anything bad about this.

Despite that, you feel like crying; and look down.

Because you’ve gained so much, but you’ve lost being your Father’s daughter.

He still cared for you, and you him.

He helped you with your hair, gave you the luxury he grained, treated you with the respect you deserved, he even changed your diapers sometimes when you were little.

Even though he didn’t need to.

Crocodile loved you as much as he could in and in the way he knew how.

So the thought that you’ve lost that love, it hurts.

You don’t want to go back to being his daughter, you don’t want to go back to being a daughter, but you don’t want to lose being his child.

“Hey, don’t give me that look.” You hear him say, and you look back up.

“I know you and how that face you make when you're about to cry. Even if you’re different know you’re still my..” He trails off and you hesitate.

“Son.” Your heart drops, fear overtaking you at the thought of him rejecting you.

“My son.” He says and your vision blurs.

“Jeez, you really don’t listen don’t you? That a Strawhat trait, or did you get it from me?” He says with a sigh as tears roll down your cheeks.

“C’mon, stand up straight. You’re my kid, act it.” Something he would always say to you when you felt insecure.

It never did much other than help you put your mask back on.

But now those words empower you.

More than when they were said by the savior of Alabasta, the fearsome Crocodile.

You nod and wipe your eyes, you can’t cry now.

“That’s right, one of us has to be free." He looks down at himself, weak from mistreatment and seastone.

"Maybe it’s better you than me.” His chains clink as he moves.

“I am free, I feel so free. All the time.” You say, laughing a bit.

It shocks Crocodile, he hasn’t heard you laugh like this in so long.

He'd thought you'd lost it from age, just as he did.

You haven't laughed this freely with him since he could hold you up with one hand.

The sound of his son sounds so much happier than his daughter.

He wishes he knew sooner, maybe he could’ve even given you different life skills.

Too late for that.

“Are you gonna stand here all day looking at your old man? I doubt you’ve come to free me.” You shake your head.

You don’t even have his key.

Your ears perk up at crashing noises, it’s time for you to go.

You look back at your father, eyes clear and bright.

“I’ll be going now, Dad.” You say with a smile and he bites the inside of his cheek to hold any emotion in.

“Go get em, son.” Crocodile says with a chuckle.

You go off and he sits in his cell.

He wonders if this is how you felt, trapped with him and in a body you didn’t feel was your own.

Maybe this is his retribution, his punishment for his wrongdoings.

If there’s a God out there.. he hopes that they keep that punishment to him.

It wouldn’t be fair to drag someone he just met into his problems.

You deserve your new life.

He’s just happy he was able to see a glimpse of it.

That was it. Hope that was good. I'm not trans but I just based it off of what i've seen and maybe how I would feel if I were trans. Hope that works. I don't know why you made yourself anonymous but put your @ but I'll assume maybe it was because you wanted me to tag you so here @77v77

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Thinking about the First Temple and how the lesson Marcy was supposed to learn was about humility but she's never shown to be particularly arrogant before. In fact, I'd say she's the opposite - while trying to solve Andrias' puzzle with Anne and Sprig, she always listened to Anne and took her suggestions into account, even when they made no sense. She never thought "actually, maybe I should handle this" or even "I don't think that'll work - let me try something else". She let Anne take charge and followed her everywhere, and she was genuinely surprised to learn Anne could possibly feel jealous of her. Sure, she's very confident in her intellectual abilities, but I think her flaw, if any, is that she tends to lose track of the bigger picture. She dismisses Anne's suggestion in Wartwood to just let things flow with the townsfolk instead of "improving" their town without their imput, not because she thinks she knows better than the wartwoodians, but because she genuinely thinks they will like it and that, if they liked it, they would like her in return. And she WAS following the mayor's lead, whom she didn't know was a corrupt criminal.

Rather than "humility", I think the Temple's lesson would be about widening her perspective and not missing the forest for the threes. She's not arrogant, she just gets very passionate about some things and loses track of everything else. She didn't accidentally hurt Anne and the Plantars in the Temple because she was so hell-bent on proving she was intellectually superior to it that she neglected her companions' safety, but because she lost track of them. If anything, I think it could be a commentary on how self-centered she can be, a little bit of foreshadowing to the revelation that she brought her friends to Amphibia for selfish reasons, while making Anne steal her supposed birthday gift - which was meant to serve Marcy's purposes all along. That was the epitome of not thinking about others because she's too focused on her own goals.

But I don't think she had any malocious intent when she did that. I think she almost like... forgot to think about Anne (and Sasha). Ignoring other people's perspectives isn't a decision she makes, but an impulse she needs to learn to control, and I don't think the lesson of "humility" is all that fitting. Maybe I'm splitting hairs, because it's not like "humility" as a lesson doesn't work - it shows Marcy she needs to slow down and not assume she can handle every task so easily. I agree on the "slowing down" part but idk if the second part makes much sense? If anything, I think "empathy" would be a better lesson to learn, but then again, that doesn't sound much like something fitting for the "Wit" Temple, and maybe the Temple is meant as a one-size-fits-all and is not meant to offer any personalized lessons, rather it's supposed to filter out any possible incarnations of Wit that may have ill intent or plan to use the power of the gem(s) for selfish purposes. A humble incarnation of Wit would probably also be one that doesn't let their companions get hurt for power or arrogance.

But is that really the lesson the Temple teaches? Because what I actually have a gripe with is how the Temple actually just straight up cheats. How is that a lesson on humility? "You will be lied to and betrayed and no matter how smart you are, you won't be able to sort through that" sounds more grimdark than lesson-teaching. How is that even a lesson? Sounds like the Temple's lesson is "life isn't fair and you need to accept you're sometimes doomed to lose for reasons outside of your control" can be interesting but I don't see how that relates to "humility". To my understanding, humility has more to do with accepting you're subject to the same rules as everybody else and that you're not "above" everyone, that your goals are not above other people's wellbeing. Accepting there are things outside of your control can be humility. It's not about accepting there are forces outside of your control playing outside the rules that will fuck you up and you just have to take it because "oh, you're not above us, little girl". If anything, that sounds more like a lesson about not trusting people will play fair and being ready to tackle that. It would have been different if Marcy just lost the game "legally", but the Temple cheating muddled things up a little.

Tbh I think the only Temple lesson that made sense was the one for Heart. Anne learning reaponsability - yes, yes, very important. Marcy learning humility... eh... kind of? But not exactly. It's not contradictory to her character but that last Temple trial made no sense, and idk if "humility" was THE lesson she needed to learn, but I accept it as a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. Sasha tho?? What did she even NEED to learn determination for?? 😭😭 girl was already determined! Or ar least I think it was determination idk I can't remember. Another lesson that would have benefitted from being more about "empathy" or "responsability" or just generally anything about putting that strength to better use. If the Temples were trying to filter out people who would use the gems' power for evil, then how does "determination" help? What if my dude was determined to do evil? Like, I don't know, Sasha herself???? Stupid fucking Temple didn't help jack shit

[127tyong]

Be There For You

Pairing: Jaemin X Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP (let's be real for a second... just the 1st P) Doctor Jaemin, Public(ish), Good Ending (an ai good ending.) (i know nothing about medicine this is all fiction)

Warnings: Mind break (honestly, not that bad imo)

Word Count: 2k

“Come on, I know you need the money! Just think about it!” Your friend slammed the stack of papers in front of you as you sat at the dining table. “It’s just an experiment, how bad could it be?”

“That’s the problem! Those things are always too good to be true.” You looked at the first page, reading “Sleep Clinical Trial 6.4”. “Like, what if they do something weird to me?”

“They won’t! They’re a legit pharmaceutical company! They give you medication, you sleep for a bit, and then you get like, 500 dollars! It’s not that big of a deal.” She sighed, her hands on her hips. “I did the 6.2 experiment, trust me, I know these guys!”

“Ugh…” You groaned. “Is this a pyramid scheme or something? Why are you vouching so hard for them?”

“Listen, I don’t wanna be that person, but you haven’t paid rent in 2 months. I love you, but I can’t let you keep eating and sleeping here for free. If you’re not gonna get a job, you can either do this, or get out.”

You sighed. “I’ll go. I don’t promise anything, but I’ll at least hear them out.” ~ The next day, you made your way into the trial clinic on the address your friend gave you.

“Hello! How can I help you?” The receptionist, wearing a “Jeno” name tag, asked you.

“Um, hi, I’m here to participate in the sleep clinical trial.” You told him, already nervous and fidgeting.

“Oh, dear…” He clicked his tongue. “Honey, that was yesterday…”

“Fuck! I’m sorry…” You nearly bolted out the door.

“Wait! Miss!” Another man called after you. “If you’re willing to, I’m testing something else out right now, I’ll pay you $2000!”

You spun around. “What is it?” 

He handed you a clipboard, with some papers attached. “Let me take you into my office.”

He dragged you into his office, the grandeur of it shocking you. Rows of bookshelves, giant velvet seats, and an oak wood desk that sat in the middle of the room, a leather chair in front of it. You focused your attention back to the doctor, who was wearing a suit with a lab coat over it, his hair an ash blue color, his glasses resting down his nose. 

“Let me introduce myself, I’m Na Jaemin, MD. I’m testing a medicine right now, it’s a female hormone regulator.” You shook his hand as you sat on the leather seat, him sitting across from you. You flipped through the papers. “What do I have to do for this, exactly?” 

You read the first page. “Project E 1.0”

The subject will be given a shot containing an unlabelled test medication. 

Effects may vary, but it will be used to treat PCOS and other hormone irregularities.

“You just have to take a shot, and I’ll do the rest. I’ll take your blood work, weight, physical changes… It’s supposed to be all good… hair growth, regulates your cholesterol, and makes your breasts bigger.”

“What are the possible side effects?” You asked.

“Hormones can cause a large amount of side effects, like birth control. Although, I must warn you that you are the first person to be administered this drug, which is why the pay is so good. There may be side effects we are unaware of.”

“...So basically you have no idea.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but I’ll be here for you the whole time.”

You nodded. "I'll do it." After all, it seemed more good than bad, and $2000…

"You'll be taking a shot every 2 weeks, which I'll administer, then I'll have you report any changes in your mood, body, etcetera. Sign here, and then we can start!" Jaemin pointed to the last page of the stack he’d given you.

You quickly signed your sanity to Na Jaemin, MD.

~

You quickly realized the bad outweighed the good. Sure, your hair was healthier than it had ever been, your skin was glowing, your breasts grew…

But your back hurts from the weight gain and you’ve never been so horny in your life.

You were sweating, your vibrator overheating, and your cunt was drenched from the constant need of relief.

Your phone shined brightly in the dark of your bedroom. 2 weeks had passed. You needed to see your doctor again.

~

You were put together enough to make the average person think you were okay, but Jaemin could see through you, the pained look in your eyes familiar to him after working in the medical field for years. Mini skirt barely hiding the fact your juices were pouring down your legs, wishing you wore jeans, but you didn’t even have the strength to slide a pair up.

"So, I take it that the past two weeks haven't been the best?" Jaemin's pen clicked to the tempo of the clock ticking. 

"No…" You rubbed your thighs together, your sweat sticking to the leather chair. You could practically feel yourself soaking the leather, still so wet, so needy. “I’ve… had a raised libido, I guess.” Your throat was dry, swallowing.

"Have you tried masturbating?" His words filled you with dread, not knowing if he fully understood.

"Everyday… Multiple times everyday. I haven't been able to sleep properly because of it…" You felt sticky, hot. You could practically smell Jaemin, the scent of his cologne, his musk, glancing at the way his hands moved as he wrote, the veins traveling up his arms. You nearly started drooling, noticing he didn’t have a ring on his finger, imagining his fingers inside you. You shook your head, knowing you couldn’t do this to yourself.

Jaemin kissed his teeth, the pop echoing in your ears. "Is a partner not an option?"

"No, I'm single… Can I go to the bathroom?" You were throbbing, practically able to feel the blood rushing to your clit, your panties rubbing against it too much to handle. You nearly toppled over as you stood up, dizzy, your legs too weak from needing to cum more than anything.

Jaemin stood up then helped you stand up. "Are you okay?" His arm on your waist, the scent of his cologne overwhelming you.

"Is… too much." You whimpered. "Need to cum right now."

Jaemin rushed you into a sterile, brightly lit patient room. He started laying you down onto the small, leather bed covered in a disposable sheet, then shutting and locking the door. "How long has this been going on?"

Tears ran down your face. "Since I took it…"

"Why hasn't it worn off?" He grumbled to himself, pacing around the room. "It's been 2 weeks, it should be out of your system…"

"It hurts…" You cried out.

"Oh, right… Fuck, you should've called me when it started! What should I do?" He touched your cheek, wiping your tears away, the chill of his hand shocking you.

"Make me cum." You cried out, your body burning up. "Doctor, make me cum…"

As he thought to himself, Jaemin thought about how he couldn't fuck a patient, how he was a professional, how he could probably give you a pain medication to make it stop. But then seeing you in agony made him reconsider the fact that he was the one who did this to you, that he was responsible… Then he realized how hard he was from listening to your cries and how much he wanted to help you cum.

Jaemin spread your legs open, sliding your panties off as they stuck to your cunt, soaked. "So wet, cute…" He muttered to himself. His hands grabbed your thighs, squeezing onto them to stabilize himself as he bent down to eat you out.

Licking up your wetness, Jaemin sucked on your clit, flicking at it with his tongue.

"Cumming!" You cried out, your back arching, hips grinding against Jaemin's tongue.

Your pretty, high pitched whines were enough to make Jaemin risk losing his job. 

As Jaemin pulled away, he licked his lips and swallowed the taste of you. "Do you feel better?"

"A little…" You mumbled, sitting up, still dizzy, but less stressed.

Jaemin lowered the hospital bed using the remote on the end of the bed. "Bend over the bed."

“Doctor-” You stood up.

“Call me Jaemin, please.” Jaemin took your hand, spinning you around, then pressing his hand against your back, bending you over, his hand trailing up to the back of your head, pushing your cheek against the leather cushion. Your hands outstretched in front of you, gripping onto the paper-wrapped pillow.

“Jaemin…” You moaned, your voice only a little louder than a whisper, listening to the sounds of Jaemin removing his belt and unzipping his slacks.

His hand slid cupped your ass, watching you squirm from his touch. His tip rubbing your clit, covered in precum, getting even more wet from you. “I promise I’ll be gentle.” 

“Please, hurry up.” You whimpered, crying into the pillow.

“Of course.” Jaemin plunged straight into you, grabbing onto your hips, pulling you towards him.

You never really got a good look at his cock, but it was safe to say that he was longer, thicker than your dildo, or any man you’ve ever been with before. Your back arched instinctively, not knowing how to handle a cock that big. Jaemin was only inside you for a little while, but you were already close, and after a few thrusts from Jaemin, you were at your limit. “Doctor, please!” You moaned out, biting onto the pillow as you came.

Jaemin didn’t know how to react, but he knew how he wanted to react. He grabbed you by your neck and shoved the rest of his length into you. His hand was pressed against your windpipe, making you unable to properly breathe, forcing you to arch your back so you could breathe properly. Once you did, Jaemin adjusted his hand, squeezing onto the sides of your throat. 

“I told you to call me Jaemin.” He whispered into your ear.

“Sorry…” Jaemin’s pace began to quicken. “Sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You should’ve listened to me.” Jaemin started kissing your neck, nibbling, biting, trying to stop himself from pitifully moaning.

“Jaemin! Jaemin, I’m sorry!” His grip on your neck tightened, cutting off your jugular vein, making you feel euphoric.

“You’re so fucking nasty… It’s so beautiful.” He moaned into your ear while you whimpered, begging Jaemin for mercy.

You knew you were an overstimulated, noisy mess, left at the mercy of Jaemin, an overworked doctor who needed you to take his stress out into your pathetic hole.

Jaemin was certain Jeno could hear everything and prayed he would cover his ass. The way you screamed his name was worth it though. The way you shook when you came, the sweet squelching sounds you made, they were all beautiful.

“I’m gonna cum.” Jaemin bit down on your neck, already having left multiple bruises and bite marks on your pretty neck. Treating you how a dog bites down on his chew toy. Forcefully and mercilessly, like you couldn’t feel a thing.

And you basically couldn’t, afterall, all you could feel was how good Jaemin was fucking you. In that moment, Jaemin could’ve done anything he wanted to you and you would’ve nodded your head and taken it. 

Which is why you didn’t even say anything when your insides were coated with a thick layer of Jaemin’s cum.

Jaemin left you for a few hours, letting you get the sleep you desperately needed.

~

When you woke up, you realized you were no longer in pain. Forcing yourself to get dressed, you made your way over to Jaemin’s office.

“You’re up?” He looked up at you over his glasses.

You nodded, sitting back down at the chair you were sitting in earlier, noticing the wet mark was still there.

“Are you still in pain?” 

You shook your head, rubbing your arms.

“Shall we continue the trial then?” Jaemin stood up, removing his glasses and setting them on his desk.

“But I was in so much pain…” You looked up at Jaemin as he walked over to you. “I think I have a solution to that.” Caressing your cheek and gently kissing your lips.

“Please fuck me again, Jaemin.”

“As my patient wishes.”

[tmf-confessions]

I HAVE TO CONFESS IT. I HAVE TO SAY IT. GOSHDARNIT I HATE LANDER WITH EVERY BONE IN MY BODY- 😭😭😭

Okay, so, may get some slander for this but Let me explain myself first- Lander is literally the least developed, most emotionless relationship in tmf.

1. Its (pretty much) useless to the plot

Literally like, they’re supposed to be “super close”, they used to be childhood best friends and now they’re lovers! But like…When do we see that ever???

Lander was basically just an excuse to give luke some screentime, and to give zander some more screentime. I know that not everything has to be necessary to the plot of tmf, but in general, when things happen, especially in such a short series (less than 15 episodes in season 1), even filler content should somehow be able to push the plot forward, right? Apparently not, because Lander literally did nothing plot wise!

You could argue that yes, it did show Zander and luke that jake was a trustworthy, but theres so many other ways that he could have done it, without the whole lander arc, which could have arguably set up both characters for more interesting arcs?

Honestly, I feel like there could have been an arc where luke accepted stacy, and zander had to learn to deal with heartbreak, and it would still push the narrative in the same direction, could have had a lot more buildup too

2. It feels like it’s just there for representation

As a queer person myself, do not get me wrong, it is WONDERFUL to have representation within media, on bigger more popular shows too! I’m eternally grateful that rosy added them in to showcase a queer relationship, however, lander honestly feels like its just that. Like its there, JUST to showcase a real relationship.

Like, they had a cute confession moment, but it was so early on in the series that it genuinely didn’t seem like something that was built up to. Sure, we got a bit of time, but how much time was that? 2 episodes of build up tops? “Lovesick luke” and “a drummers confession” was like, literally it. Nothing beforehand to build up to it, besides the whole “Zander is gay” and “zander and luke are childhood best friends” thing, but those can exist within platonic relationships too, so thats not really buildup at all

We never get to see why they’re attracted to eachother, other than “wow, they’ve been friends for a while and admire eachother, they must have crushes on eachother” like- even as a person who is VERY VERY VERY romantically attracted (think opposite of aromantic, then scale it 20x past that), its just giving “boy and girl co-star on a show and end up together at the end because you cant have 2 friends be close without them being romantic,” but made queer.

Genuinely, if theres going to be a relationship, i think that (as much as i personally am not really a shipper of it) jailey is a WONDERFUL example.

They kind of grew on eachother, and we see that attraction growing slowly, rather than being shoved in our faces or being rushed. Its a well thought out love arc, and almost perfectly encapsulates a slowly formed relationship. even in such a short show, it didn’t feel rushed.

(While rereading this, i’m really notsure how to phrase my words, so these words absolutely do not reflect my ABSOLUTE feelings on this, but this is about as close as I can get with it. I am in absolutely no way accusing rosy of being homophobic, Infact i see quite the opposite in her, she’s a wonderful ally, its just meh writing)

3. Its honestly not the best ship? (This part is my opinion purely)

Dont get me wrong, they’re not toxic by any means, (infact, they seem quite healthy!) but they 100% have some issues they need to work on. Like… does no one notice how Luke like, threatened jake if he hurt zander? Obsession issues a tad bit, perchance?/notneg

Luke kinda exists to push zander’s story arc along in the first season, so we get like, no luke character traits, which i think definitely contributes to them not being the best pairing, but overall they’re so generically “mehh” of a relationship. They’re just kinda together, to be together.

4. FINAL REASON: It was just there to push jake’s story along.

Honestly, I think this is the underlying reason here. Jake is the main character in a really short show, so if somethings not revolved around him, its gotta be quick. Lander would definitely be so much better with more development, but because its not jake centred, we basically get nothing on them. This isnt rosy’s fault by any means, shes gotta get the main story in ofc, it just sucks that that seems to cost other characters screen time and development that could have been really nice.

Overall, Rosy please make more lander stuff in season 2, I need to stop hating it cause it could genuinely be so cute 🙏

confession #810

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

May I ask for a continuation of "Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot." <3 thanks !

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 13

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 3,009

Hiccup tries to ‘nice date’ you.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, Tunnel Vision, Hiccup POV, Reader Pov, Switch POV

<Previous - Next>

You watched with mild interest as the Riders made hurried efforts to trap Gobber. You tried to stay out of their way, which was especially important as they chased down a madman with an axe.

You had been avoiding the forge a little bit and not just because of Hiccup. Gobber stank. You couldn’t avoid the thought that Berk needed a plumbing system.

You held a poster you made earlier advertising that people take a bath more than once a week at least in the summers, letters scratched in clumsy Norse. You weren’t sure if you had any real intentions of posting it but you had made it and it had taken a long while. So, for lack of anything better to do with it, you carried it around with you.

You sighed, eyeing Fishlegs as he tried and failed to pull any water from the well. Berk had been on water search for a while. At least a week, since the last bath day. You doubted the other teens noticed; they were lucky enough to live up to the Chief, and to benefit from all the privileges that afforded.

You were supposed to clean the railing and caging around the arena, though you had no idea how you were going to do that without any water. Maybe oil? Phlegma said something earlier about water and rust, anyways, so it was probably for the best.

A plumbing system would really help with that. You took a note to go wander down towards the Arena later. Maybe then you’d figure out what to do.

“Okay, we need to figure out a way to keep Berk's supply with water, until a new well can be dug,” Hiccup paced back and forth, arms crossed as he glared down at the cracked stone below. 

He held in a nervous grimace. They expected him to do something. They expected him to do something when no one had looked to him for anything for… Ever. Not before the Red Death. Not before Toothless. He’d been taking the lead a lot lately, and he’d have to say he’d done well all things considered but now he was left scrambling for ideas.

He turned, suddenly, looking at the other riders lined up before him before pointing, “Ruff, Tuff, strap on the washtub and head to Lars Lake to fill it.”

“Okay, that thing’s pretty big,” Tuffnut dropped his crossed arms, bouncing in place before gesturing back towards Ruffnut, who scoffed at him, “I mean, it’s bigger than Ruff's butt, it can take a while, maybe a week or two.”

Hiccup winced, choking down the small part of him that found that sort of funny as Ruffnut turned to look down at her butt, looking slightly put off in a way that was uncharacteristic. 

She then reared back to land a hard punch to her brother’s head. Ouch.

“I was assuming you would use your dragon,” Hiccup said flatly, gesturing as Tuffnut pulled himself off the floor. 

Tuffnut scoffed, “Why would you think that?”

“Right,” Hiccup said, “Astrid, Snotlout, head to the mountain streams and fill as many canteens as you can.”

“Mountain streams…” Snoutlout began, before continuing in a voice just above a mumble, scooting closer to Astrid and trying to rest his arm over her shoulder, “Romanti- Ow!” 

His voice cut off as Astrid grabbed his arm, twisting it wickedly, kicking his begin the knees.

Hiccup winced again, sort of glad he wasn’t Snotlout, before his train of thought seemed to sputter to a stop. The Mountain streams.

His shoulders stiffened. The cove pulled water from one of the mountain streams. It was nice, and green, and really, really empty. The water was fresh and it was pretty quiet. A great place for… for a romantic date.

Maybe Snotlout was right.

Fishlegs looked at Hiccup exhaustedly, face flat and Hiccup shot him his own stormy mild scowl. He didn’t think anyone else picked up on it. He hoped not.

Then Hiccup started.

Looking up, he was greeted to the sight of you, by the top of the cage. You held onto the bars with both hands, looking down into the ring.

Why were you here? His heart picked up a little bit more as you spotted him and gave a small wave.

Sometimes he wondered if it was really time to take down the chains and bars, not that he had the resources and time to do that. It was a miracle his dad hadn’t made Hiccup himself repair the hole Toothless blew into the top after rescuing him from Hookfang on the day of the battle against the Red Death. 

Good will and victory only went so far, after all. He still made Hiccup take out his boots on Boot Night, despite his pleading and begging and leveraging.

“Actually, on second thought, I’ll go get the canteens. Snotlout and Astrid and Fishlegs, you’re all on well duty. Figure out what happened. Toothless and I are faster anyways. We’ll just…” Hiccup laughed nervously. 

He kept his eyes off to the side, rubbing his arm as he imagined the others rolling their eyes. A blink later, though, and you were gone.

He exhaled stressfully. He had one chance.

“What?” Tuffnut asked, while Ruffnut sighed out a long, “Lame.”

Chores. It was always chores that brought you to places you should not be.

You looked down at the Riders talking together in the arena and squinted down into the Arena below as the Riders scrambled for their dragons.

You just got done with your break, which you spent carving. 

You watched Hiccup quickly slide onto Toothless’ saddle, jumping around the others as they siphoned out of the arena and into the sky.

It had been a little awkward, whenever you’d come close enough to Hiccup for there to be any sort of tension. You had been, admittedly, a little avoidant.

You were mildly surprised when instead of taking off like the rest of everyone, Hiccup instead waited till they were a speck in the distance or making a touchdown on Berk to bound right over to you on Toothless.

You started as Toothless stopped suspiciously close, slightly infringing on your space to a level that was slightly unnecessary.

You watched as Hiccup scrubbed the back of his neck, “So…”

You bent down, crouching as you dipped the tip of the canister into the pond, half submerging it and listening to it gurgle as it filled with water.

You watched as the waterline by your feet bobbed slightly. You got as close as you could get to the stream and fall that funneled water into the cove, hoping that the closer you were to running water, the higher quality the water would be, somehow. 

You had a hefty basket next to you and rows of filled canisters lined up by the cove’s packed dirt beach.

Hiccup had been helping earlier. 

The last you checked, he’d half tangled a large blanket back behind you on the grass, checkered in light tan squares and a darker brown almost reddish color. Like a picnic blanket. He seemed to pull it out of nowhere. 

You wondered when Toothless got a satchel. Saddle bag.

You helped him straighten it out quickly and quite clumsily too and shuffled around a bit nervously after.

Hiccup’s dragon seemed to take great joy in staring down Hiccup as he fussed.

You had faith in the fact that what he was doing was good, even if you didn’t know what it was. You weren’t inclined to criticize him when he had taken a back full of flesh-burning acid for you, and also he was the protagonist.

You stood up, scuffing your feet against the dirt to peer into the large basket at your side. No more canisters.

You shrugged your shoulders, looking around.

It was nice to have time to think for yourself for just a moment. Even if nothing was said outright, there was something familiar about the area and you weren’t not going to read between the lines when the things between were cool.

This was where Hiccup and Toothless became friends. 

You wondered if he found this place as important as you thought.

It felt a little sacrilegious being there even though you knew objectively Hiccup and Toothless couldn’t have been the only Viking-Dragon duo to exist here, especially after every other Viking started to pick up dragon riding as a hobby.

You tried to figure out which rock was which- as if you could somehow recreate the movie in your head but in live action. But there were a lot of rocks.

You sighed. It didn’t matter, anyways.

You looked back at Hiccup, who, it seemed, had straightened everything out.

Though for some reason you thought the world would have looked much nicer if the sun had been low on the horizon, washing everything in something sort of orange.

“I finished filling the cans,” You said as you walked up to Hiccup, who was rummaging around in Toothless’ saddlebag.

Hiccup started, a bit disheveled, “Already?”

The drawstrings by his collar hung slightly open, twine undone from the first few holes. You wondered when that happened. Probably in between mumbling to Toothless and something about Snotlout.

“Yup,” You shrugged, popping the ‘P.’

“Everyone will be happy to hear that we got some water back, I’m sure.”

"I’m actually hoping we’ll get back before they notice,” Hiccup shrugged sheepishly.

Toothless snorted, and Hiccup shot him a skeptical, unimpressed glance in response, before focusing his attention back at you.

You took a step back to give him more space to move and settled backwards as he gestured to the blanket of the floor, lips stick in a thin line, shifting back and forth on his heels.

You were slightly confused, expecting in half to start flying back to Berk to help distribute the canisters of water, though if Hiccup wasn’t worried, it probably wasn’t that urgent.

You squinted, “You’re probably a little late for that.”

If chaos was something Hiccup wanted to avoid, then… You knew a few people who had gotten into fit fights over it lately. You were lucky enough not to have to tussle for any water, yet. Everyone else was draining the lakes and streams and anything else they could get their hands on.

“Late?”

You wondered how long it would take for someone to get sick off it. Still water, and all that. As you did, toothless ambled his way off to the other side of the clearing.

 “It’s been on the low for a while. Since the last Bath Day.”

Really?” Hiccup grimaced, adjusting his tunic, green, “How’ve you been getting it?”

“I’ve just been boiling it out the sea,” You admitted, “I got someone down by the docks to fire their Nadder and I’ve just been using the sand glass to collect the condensation.”

It was very time and resource consuming which was probably why no one else had done it. And it was only really good for drinking water and salt, which you used a lot of. 

You’d annoyed plenty of other Vikings by hogging some of the fires down by the Great Hall anyways, though no one had thrown out your pot and glass set up yet.

“The condensation?” Hiccup asked.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “It’s sort of drinkable. Learned how to do that in science.”

You let your head fall to the side, where Hiccup was waiting for you to keep talking. They probably did have a word for it, if the way Fishlegs talk about dragons was any indication. Of course they had a word for it. You weren’t sure how to describe it, though.

“Like from the scientific method. Hypothesis, testing,” You shrugged, resting your chin on your knees and you let your arms rest around your ankles, “I don’t know the Norse word for it.” 

“I think I get it,” Hiccup nodded, anyhow.

Your hands drifted up to feel at a pocket in your sleeve, hastily sewn in by you the day before, perhaps trying to gather whether or not you’d lost the thing you’d put there.

It was a simple bead, wooden with just two lines going around the ends with a small sketchy likeness of Toothless’ face. It was so small, it had taken you forever to carve out. 

It didn’t feel right to keep on your own, somehow.

You rolled it between your fingers, it’s polished, oiled yet bumpy surface feeling tingly underneath your fingertips.

You slipped it out absentmindedly. It was nice to have something to fiddle with, and you were still really proud of it.

“A rose by any other name is just as sweet-would smell as sweet, or something,” You scoffed.

Then you frowned slightly. 

Shakespeare wasn’t actually the best literature had to offer. It sounded sophisticated enough to most people, though that was probably because it was hard to understand half of what Romeo and Juliet were saying, so it was hard not to take most of it seriously, even if some of it was meant to be funny.

And though you tried to ignore it, it was getting more and more difficult to switch between your language and the Vikings’.

“What does that mean?” Hiccup asked. As he let one leg rest flat against the ground and he leaned back against his hands, you couldn’t help but find yourself a little bit bothered by the twine hanging from his shirt.

How did he usually tie it, anyways? 

You tilted your head and turned the bead in your fingers over one more time.  The twine looked thin enough and the hole of the bead large enough to slip through. 

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” You mumbled, embarrassed, “It’s from a romance novel, I think. Romeo is telling Juliet how he’d-... like her, no matter what her name was.”

“Wow,” Hiccup said, “That’s...”

You nodded.

“Hey, Hiccup,” You leaned forward slightly, gesturing to his neck, “Your… The string is untied. By your neck.”

Hiccup glanced down with a grimace, face reddening with embarrassment. He rubbed one hand down the side which had the effect of smashing his cheek oddly.

“Let me…” You said, taking the opportunity to swoop in, scooting closer and grabbing one of his loose tunic strings. 

You realized a bit late that you were a bit too close to be comfortable, but it was too late for you to back down now. You could have put it on his wrist though it would probably fly off when he was riding Toothless, anyways.

You threaded the bead through and tied his loose drawstrings together in a messy bow.

Hiccup looked down at it with bewilderment, bringing up a hand to pull the bed on a string into view, “A bead.”

He looked incredibly embarrassed.

“You don’t like it?” You asked, wringing your hands nervously, “I made it in my free time. It’s just been sitting around, so I thought… I mean, I didn’t… Plan it, or anything, but…”

“No, no, I-ah,” Hiccup coughed, though it sounded a lot like a choke. He spoke in a way which made it obvious he was trying not to squeak, “I really like it.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, glancing out over the small pond, rubbing your hand down your neck and shoulder, “So, anyways… Have you… I mean. I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Yeah?” Hiccup asked, looking like he was holding his breath.

You weren’t sure what he was listening for, though you didn’t stop to think much about it, very much a girl on a mission.

Hiccup didn’t have a crush on you.

You had something important.

“Have you ever considered building, like, a reservoir? Or a plumbing system or something? With a boiler, I mean, and closed pipes, and all that,” You suggested, thinking about the makeshift system of funnels and dragons Hiccup had come up with before, “You could fill the well pretty good with that, after some water proofing, probably.”

Hiccup looked mildly disappointed.

You pretended you didn’t feel the hot nervous sweat beginning to build in your closed palms.

You should have just put up the poster.

“I mean, infrastructurally, it would probably change a lot,” You started, “You already did something like it, and we had something like that back at home. I’m not very fresh on the details- it’s never been my thing.”

“...I guess we could use Nightmare Gel to keep it going,” Hiccup started. 

You nodded.

“If you think about it, we don’t need a lot to keep a strong fire for a long while, so if we just took a little, then… Dragon spit would work too. And one of the Nadders-” You were gleeful as Hiccup caught on, and listened to Hiccup ramble for a bit with a bright, self-satisfied smile; about what he was doing in the forge, Toothless, and other things, shifting on the blanket below.

He definitely saw the potential, Hopefully the Chief would too. Finally.

Warm bath water.

You never thought the structural integrity of Berk was something you’d ever have to worry about.

You shifted your arms, full of water cans, mouth open slightly.

The village was in chaos. Vikings running around waving weapons, the Riders swooping clumsily around the sky as Whispering Deaths wrecked the island, spiking huts and tearing up farmland.

You turned to stare at Hiccup, whose eyes were wide as Vikings off in the distance shouted something wild about taking cover.

Hiccup sighed as Toothless settled heavily down next to him, basket strapped to his back, smacking Hiccup in the head with his wing, “Ow.”

A viking man, heavy and covered in brown furs burst through the wall of the hut nearest you at the edge of the village, hollering.

Off in the distance, you heard the shout of Hiccup’s name from someone who only could have been the Chief.

He started, dropping a few of the water canisters piled up in his arms.

Hiccup balked out something between sigh and an awkward laugh, “Duty calls, I guess.”

[simsandchesscrossover]

More in-depth descriptions of the kids for my kidswap below the cut!

NOTES ON CHANGES (KIDS)

At the start of the story, JOHN has recently been abandoned by his brother, who has given up on training him to save the world. He now resides in a foster care facility. In the first act, he has a rather violent breakdown as a result, and decides to express any and every emotion he pleases. This results in a unique typing style where he often forgets to add punctuation and emoticons to his texts and adds them on later.

Contrary to Rose’s passive-agressive battles with her mother, JADE is frequntly and plainly aggressive. She lives in the woods outside her house and refuses to go inside unless pre-planned and mutually agreed upon- as she puts it, she and her mother have their own territories, and their relationship relies on them staying out of each other’s way. This mindset means that she is exceptionally frustrated when her mother is sober and tries to convince her to come back, saying that “children aren’t supposed to live out in the woods” and “it’s dangerous”. Can’t she see Jade is being the bigger person here?

On the subject of ROSE, she is both more secure and far more paranoid. Actually interacting with other children, the majority of whom found her pretentious and strange, has made her overly defensive, and she has taken refuge in what she views as her areas of superiority. Given her father’s more balanced approach to parenting, she doesn’t believe everything he does is an attack, but when she encounters something odd enough that it seems like one, she spirals.

DAVE deals with his enviroment perhaps the worst out of any of the children. He doesn’t cope well with what he phrases as “living on this bumfuck island with my grandpa until he shot himself because taking care of me was just that bad i guess”. On top of that, he’s constantly hounded (ha!) by a dog-like creature that he used to think was the one that killed his grandfather. Now, he isn’t sure if it’s even real or some sort of grief-induced hallucination. This has made him exceptionally anxious, and although he tries to hide it, his very limited social skills aren’t up to the task.

The Alpha session is a bit more complicated. JANE was raised on a series of recordings from her brother, all intended for a boy named Dirk. Given that she was entirely alone, she had no reason to think that that wasn’t her. Rose gets a vision of the changes to the timeline just in time to send out one final message explaining the truth. A key component of Jane’s worldview is that she deeply resents Dave for that and not being there, and is completely aware that it’s irrational. Conciously or not, she rebels against his post-ironic movie star lifestyle by leaning into suburbia. She sews dapper suits out of t-shirts and practices comedy. Once she discovers that she is not, in fact, Dirk, her idea of mild-mannered perfection shifts slightly. It’s undeniable that this house wasn’t made for her, but some aspect of being a “cool dude” still calls to her more than her new matronly ways… (it’s the transgender)

JAKE CROCKER is the heir to the Crocker corporation, and he’s also a media darling. Despite his father’s attempts to keep him out of the public eye (mainly due to the assassination attempts), the PR department has taken their chance, and his celebrity status is sure to make the population of Earth unwilling to resist their new Empress. Besides, Jake’s got his crackshot aim, a dashing smile, and two-inch-thick bulletproof windows, through which he can wave to his adoring populace before going about his business. What could go wrong?

ROXY spends her days chatting online and experimenting in her grandmother’s laboratory. She may be the only human left on her island, but she’s far from the only creature! Her beloved Gcat is always by her side, at least when he’s hungry. The rest of the island’s animals are wild, but the ones she makes love her. They barely try to eat her even a quarter of the time. But mostly, she wants to figure out a way to get off the island- just for a quick vacay!- and explore the world, meeting all the people and seeing all the sights.

Roxy-DIRK-Lalonde-Strider- whatever his name is now, it doesn’t matter- is wrong. There was some great cosmic error, and he came to this city of carapacians instead of a single apartment in the middle of the sea. He’s always known he didn’t belong here, but he assumed it was just some innate, destructive quality of his. Ever since the day he killed his own pet cat (in an unfortunate robotics accident), he’s known he was a monster. He’s done his best to counteract that, helping the carapacians in any way he could, but it isn’t enough. Everything in this home reminds him of his mistakes, and he makes no effort to change that.

[aouboomseries]

title: better love a dream

fandom: pluto the series

wc: 655 words

aioon character study drabble, oonmay mentioned

🌌✨🌌✨🌌

just a little something i wrote after the first episode, might expand on it and post on ao3 another time ^__^ enjoy reading, pls reblog and lmk your thoughts if u do!

Aioon has never been in love. She's always had other things in life to think about.

When she was a child, she supposes other little girls dreamt of getting married, having children—of finding someone safe and strong to hold onto, through the good and the ugly, and never letting go. Aioon was not a little girl that dreamt of falling in love. Instead, she dreamt of getting rich and going somewhere far away. She dreamt of her grandmother's hand on her shoulder, saying she was proud of her. She dreamt of for once being right and getting her sister to admit she was wrong.

She knew some little girls prayed to God that their dreams would come true. Aioon thought that if there really was a God, she wouldn't have to wish so badly for her own family to like her.

Aioon did not pray (but at least, neither did Oaboom).

Growing up, Aioon was a troublemaker. Quick to start a fight, antagonistic to teachers and school counselors and bosses at part-time jobs alike, loud with nothing particularly important to say. People didn't expect much from her, and though the part of her that dreamed may have wanted to prove them all wrong and crush those expectations to bits, the bigger (jealous, bitter, awful) part of her knew it was futile. Why should she work so hard to be half-decent at things her snobby sister already did with perfect ease?

And of course the one time she does try, makes that idiotic bet with all the confidence and none of the planning, it ends in mindless violence and humiliation. It ends in a guilt so heavy it follows her around for years in the form of her sister's resentful scrutiny. Aioon knows the lines of her own face so well when angry because of Oaboom.

Having a twin is a funny thing, see.

Pang once dated a talk therapist, whose specialty was in Marriage and Family. If she hadn't been on her best behavior the one time they'd met, in case the situationship with Pang happened to last more than two weeks (it didn't), Aioon would have asked her:

What does it mean to be so angry at someone with your own face that on your worst days, you flinch at the sight of her staring back at you in the mirror? What does it mean when the thing you're secretly most afraid of is that you've actually been the evil twin all along?

(Why does one of you have to be evil, Pang had asked when Aioon confessed this months later, both of them splayed on Pang's tiny couch and drunk on cheap wine.

In the movies, one of them is always evil. It's like. Rule #1 of being a twin.

That's not a rule, Pang said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Anyway, people aren't totally good or evil. We just sometimes make good decisions and sometimes make bad ones. She was very wise even with half a bottle of rosé in her.

You're full of shit, Aioon had snickered and thrown a pillow at her face. She had mostly done it so she wouldn't have to think about all the many, many, many bad decisions she'd made in her life.)

It makes sense that in all her years of not-trying in an effort to distance herself from her sister's Aioon-but-better face and Aioon-but-better life, she would still end up here—suffering the consequences of Oaboom's selfish pride and her own stupidity. Digging her own grave while her sister lays unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, dangerously close to hers. Making another one of those bad evil twin decisions.

Aioon has never been in love, and she does not pray to God. Aioon has never once gotten close to the things she selfishly dreamed and wished for as a child.

But touching May, she thinks, is the closest she's been to any of it.

[graysparrowao3]

WIP Whatever: Rolan, Cal, & Lia Special

Thank you for the tag @forget-me-maybe! I know it's not two particular Northern Bastards (but if that's what you were hoping for you may find such a snippet here). I hope it's not bothersome or disappointing if I indulge in posting again, I know I have more than usual lately, to be honest I'm just a bit proud of this bit.

Some more tags should you wish to share or share again <3 @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @falcatamandarina @reverieblondie @commander-krios @turquoiseoverthesea

Behold! From the next chapter of The Elturian Prodigy fic...

Rolan, Cal, and Lia are currently in Avernus trying to survive. Rolan may have finally started to figure out a way to get them back so that the events of Baldur's Gate 3 can begin....

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR DESCENT INTO AVERNUS BELOW THE CUT

Rolan cleared his throat. “It has to be the Companion.”

“Want someone to ask you to elaborate, don’t you?” Lia’s eyes were sullen.

“The Companion was the first thing we noticed. When it flickered, changed. That happened before the devils decided to make an appearance. If I can figure out the nature of the change to the Companion, we find our way home.”

“I’ll pack my bags,” Lia’s tongue and voice was dry. “Glad you took your time coming up with that stellar conclusion.”

“Bet it tasted like cheese,” Cal mumbled vacantly under his breath.

“I suppose you’ve already detailed the particulars, have you?” Rolan glared. The exhausted woman across the room huffed air though her nose.

“Fine.” She did not sound pleased about it, but she did continue. “What are you thinking?”

“I’ve been trying to establish a way home, but I’d been thinking too small, too direct. Perhaps it’s less about reversing the way we arrived here, and more about the bigger picture.” He paused for both theatrics and to gather his next thoughts. “It was High Overseer Kreeg who produced the miracle itself. A blinding light to rid the city of evil, or some such drivel.”

“It was evil, Rolan,” Lia rolled her eyes. “We're living in it. Kreeg helped the Riders, saved the whole city.”

Lines creased Rolan’s brow. “I never can remember the deity Kreeg revered. Divine matters. Not my forte.”

“Torm,” came a soft muttering from the youngest tiefling who let his head rest back against the wall.

“Ah. Yes.”

Cal forced whatever amusement he could to his voice, which wasn't much. "Pretty sure if we weren’t already in Hell you’d be smited for blasphemy.”

“Right,” Rolan cleared his throat. “Torm. And Torm is of course…”

“Patron of Paladins.”

“Obviously. A beacon of righteousness and duty. A bleeding heart. Surprised you weren’t fully converted, Lia.”

“Might’ve thought about it,” she shot back. “Not that it’s any of your business. Could've used a few answered prayers lately.”

Rolan was too engrossed in thought to register her reply, his face furrowing further. “Does that sound like the sort of God to banish us to Hell?”

Cal’s eyes slowly animated with curiosity and he sat forward. “What are you thinking, Rolan?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “But you recall making the oath of the Creed Resolute…”

“Which you were willing to break the second the city faced danger,” Lia made her disdain apparent.

“Which I still would, if it were possible,” Rolan’s voice lowered to a pensive mumble. “To serve the realm of Elturgard… the High Observer… defend the city…”

“Serve all people and the greater good,” Lia added. “Uphold Elturgard’s laws and the Creed Resolute.”

Cal finished the code contained within the Creed. “Allow no difference of faith to come between us, and not attribute the Companion to any one God.”

Rolan nodded in affirmation of their combined words. “Now, Lia’s fanciful ambitions aside, why would anyone other than the Riders need to make such an oath?”

“Hells, Rolan,” she frowned, “you wouldn’t shut up about it at the time. We get it – you are so philosophically advanced and the rest of us mindless idiots to social convention.”

“No, Lia,” Cal intervened, “I think he’s actually onto something this time. You think it’s connected, Rolan?”

“It’s no more impossible than anything else. The timing alone is suspect. I’d bet money – if we had any left – that if Torm put the Companion in place, or Kreeg through Torm, or whatever else – I don’t know how all that nonsense works - it’s not Torm’s will that undid it.”

Cal couldn’t help but put words to the question that sat waiting. “So… who did?”

Rolan took a deep breath. “Someone who benefits from every living soul in Elturel swearing to the Creed Resolute.”

The air and vibrations in the infernal basement froze.

“Rolan…” Lia’s voice shook with caution, “please tell me you know who that is.”

“It’s a guess,” he tempered expectations, but the vivid blazing behind his eyes betrayed his excitement. “We are, as I believe, in Avernus. Currently under siege in the Blood War. Commanded in the First Circle of Hell by-”

“Zariel,” the word left Lia’s mouth breathlessly.

Rolan offered an acknowledging nod of his head. "Or, in as it means literally... Companion of Light."

“Holy shit, Rolan,” Cal was leaning so far forward he was leaning on his palms, his eyes flaming bright, “you’re a genius.”

“Wouldn’t go that far,” Lia mumbled instinctively, but a thick layer of exhaustion had lifted from her face and she was staring with expectation. “But this is insane. Zariel is an Archdevil. Maybe if he figures out what we can do about it.”

“Well whatever Kreeg is up to clearly hasn’t helped. And the Riders are next to useless.”

“Rolan!”

“My best speculations,” Rolan hummed. “If Torm was the one that conjured the Companion, perhaps he’s not best pleased about its demise and would rather like it back. If Zariel was involved from the start, I’m not sure there’s anything we can do. Not without more information. Either way, there’s only one place in the city that might offer some insight into the matter.”

Two voices in union gave the final obvious answer.

“The High Hall.”

Rolan tipped his head and his shoulders pulled proudly back. “Perhaps there’s a reason to risk the bridges after all.”

[kenny-the-ken]

Upstairs, Downstairs

This was based on an anon request! Thank you so much!! Aged up! Kenny is 18, reader is 18! Sexual themes, strong language!

The Kingdom worshiped their princess, and anyone who was lucky enough to work in her palace would receive the upmost respect from her fellow subjects.

You had just been lucky enough to be Princess Kenny's lady in waiting, you would be her personal assistant, one of the highest honours to be places on a female servant, especially since you were so young.

Princess Kenny had asked for you specifically, and you were starstuck that your Princess wanted you to dote on her.

It was your first day, you had just ran the Princess her bath, and had prepared tea and coffee for her awakening. You let yourself into her bedroom, opening the curtains and turning to look at her beautiful eyes begin to flicker open and shut. "Princess, we have a clear schedule for today, may I suggest a walk through the beautiful gardens as the weather is perfect this morning." You spoke, your head bowed. "I have also drawn the Princess a bath, if you wish help to undress?" You asked, a small blush painting your cheeks. This was your job, you weren't supposed to be flustered, but you couldn't help it, she truly was beautiful.

"I'll gladly accept any help you're offering, y/n." She said, rising from her silk sheets, as she stood before you.

You quickly got to work, taking her golden hair out of the two plaits they were in, you began to unbutton the back of her nightgown before he stopped you, turning to take your hands within hers, which were surprisingly a bit bigger than yours. She was taller than you were expecting and she spoke softly.

"I have something that I must confess to you at once!" She spoke with haste, a blush slowly appearing.

"You see, I am a Princess, well, more of a Prince actually. My father thought that during the time of our cities being at war, that a female force would be have a stronger advantage. Females are more sought after by other men, and it gives them great pleasure to protect a damsel in distress." She continued, your eyes wide. "But you see, the war has ended, Winter has been and gone, and as I am now of age, I seek to marry, not a man, but a fair maiden, why do you think I picked you specially?" The Princess spoke, her nightgown dropping to the floor, her skin pale in the sunlight that was pouring through the open window, seeing her completely flat chest and toned stomach told you she was telling you the truth, and to you, she still looked as ethereal as ever.

"My true name, is Prince Kenny McCormick." He said, pulling the blonde wig from atop his head and smiling at you softly, taking your hands in his once more.

"Do you like what you see, Miss y/n?" The Prince teased, a small smirk playing on his lips as he brought you closer to him, the gap between you both just mere inches, you could feel his hot breath on your cold skin.

"Of course I like what I see, Prince." You replied, a gentle blush dusting across your cheeks as he bowed, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

"I chose you for your beauty, I had also heard great things about your intelligence, I believe that together this Kingdom could flourish. You would be the Princess, I would be the Prince, and one day we shall rule this land together, as King and Queen, if you'll only take my hand for eternity and allow me to make you mine?" Kenny asked, his words not faltering once, he was cocky, handsome and everything a girl could dream of, and he knew it. You simply nodded your head, a small smile on your face and he slowly embraced you, your head pressed flush with his chest, you could hear his heart beat, you couldn't believe that this would be your life forever.

"We must keep you protected, we still have enemies out there, I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure that you are protected, I promise to cherish you everyday as if it is our last." Kenny's words made your heart skip a beat, going from a poor peasant to a Princess was an unimaginable thought, something that would only happen in a fairytale, and this was yours.

"You must keep your hands to yourself till our wedding night, Prince." You replied, his hand tracing your jaw, before tilting your face up to look at his, his hand now under your chin, his thumb tracing your lips.

"What they don't know won't hurt them, Princess." He cooed, before placing a soft yet passionate kiss upon your untouched lips, you had never been kissed in this way before, being told that it was sinful, something that must only be for husband and wife, you felt like you should be guilty, but Kenny's arm wrapped around your waist, his hand squeezing your ass, his lips moving in sync with yours as he nipped at your bottom lip and began exploring your mouth with his tongue made you completely forget about what a sin was, for your mind was flooded with nothing but him, his soft skin and calloused hands, his lips and his breath that was tainted by nicotine as you two became each others worlds.

Pausing to take a breath that you didn't know you needed you both panted, faces flushed and enough sexual tension that a knife could cut through it, he whispered in your ear,

"You said you had drawn me a bath, so why waste water bathing alone when you can join me?" You felt dizzy, and you swore this was nothing but a perverted dream, but it wasn't, this was real, and as he lead you to the bathroom, you couldn't believe that this was your life, a Princess!! Princess y/n!!!

Hey guys, I'm so so sorry that this took me so long to do, I'm really not happy with it so I will definitely write another Princess Kenny fic in the near future. My toddler was crazy today, so my mind wasn't in the correct place, but I wanted to at least get something out for you all to enjoy!! Have a nice night guys!!

[winter-leftovers]

Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter eleven: Smother (11/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Y/n learns about Douxie’s new feelings for her. Strickler needs protection

Word count: 2582

Warnings: lil bit of angst?

(Season 1 Episode 20, 21,23,24)

Song?: Smother by Daughter

Previous - Next

Masterlist

“Jim is in more danger than we thought” Y/n grabbed one of Blinky’s books and showed him the page she was reading “Angor Rot made a bargain. He obtained his magic but cursed his soul into a single ring, the Inferna Copula” she pointed to the picture of the ring.

“Mm, picture. Helpful” said Aaarrrgghh.

“Who wears the ring, controls him” Y/n continued. When her magic came back, a lot of knowledge came back too.

“It says here that Angor’s been stealing the souls of Trollhunters in a blasphemous attempt to fill the void ever since” Blinky grabbed the book from Y/n’s hands. After a moment he turned to his friend “You don’t have to hide it from me. I might only have two eyes, but I can see clear as day. It’s obvious”

After their quest to Gatto’s cave, Blinky had returned differently. The once blue troll was now…a human.

Y/n straight herself up. She had sensed a shift in Aaarrrgghh behavior but said nothing in fear of overstepping.

“Ever since my human deformity you have been…distant” Blinky complained.

Y/n frowned. She wasn’t expecting that.

“Uh…yes. Distant” the bigger troll nodded.

“I may look different but I’m the same Blinky. How about to cheer you up, maybe later today, I could rent a mini-van we could go for a drive? Something with tinted windows, of course” Blinky offered with excitement. He was desperate to fix the problem that had separated from his friend “I hear we are not too far away from the world’s largest thermometer! I bet you could eat it!”

“Mm, not today” Aaarrrgghh shook his head and left the library.

“Perhaps another time, my dear friend” Blinky said as he watched his friend leave.

“I’m sorry, Blinky” Y/n tapped his shoulder in an attempt to calm his sadness.

Blinky sighed, still looking at the door.

—

Y/n walked down the stairs of her house in a hurry. She overslept and was late to her shift at the store.

“Hey, m-“ she stopped when she saw Blinky sitting on the couch. She furrowed her brow. Why would the troll be here?

“Oh, good, good. Good afternoon, Mr. President Eisenhower” Blinky said into the phone.

Y/n rolled her eyes “Great cover” she thought.

“I suppose I could pencil you in” he stood up and walked away to a place where Barbara couldn’t hear him.

Y/n stood still at the foot of the stairs, observing Blinky mumbling into his phone.

“Angor Rot is in the school” she heard him say.

She took a deep breath and said “Mr. Blinky, do you need a ride to the school? I could give you one” she already had her hand on the door.

“Oh, yes, yes. Thank you, very much” Blinky nodded nonstop.

They were out the door and in Y/n’s car before Barbara could say something.

She started her old car and prayed for no transit.

“Do you think I could, you know, drive?” Blinky turned to her.

Y/n turned to him. Eyes wide open. She couldn’t believe his timing.

“Not today but someday” he continued.

“No” she stepped on the accelerator.

By the time they got there the fight was over. The police was there making sure all the kids were there.

“Master Jim” Blinky ran to Jim, Toby and Claire.

“Is everyone okay?” Y/n asked “Sorry for the delay. We wanted to help but we had to make a couple bathroom breaks” she gave Blinky a dirty look.

“Oh dear!” Blinky stomach gurgled.

“How did you survive Angor Rot?” Y/n asked ignoring the troll.

“Long story” Jim sighed and turned to where Strickler was standing “Have you heard of the Inferna Copula?”

“Indeed, I have” said Blinky. He and Y/n shared a look after seeing the ring on the changeling’s hands.

—

“Okay. We wait until he’s asleep” said Jim.

“I use my shadow staff to get us in” added Claire.

“And I ever so gently remove the ring from his finger”

“Woah. Hold up there, Mr. Storyteller. Do changelings even sleep?” Toby interrupted his friend.

“Yes, but we don’t know Strickler’s schedule” Y/n explained through the phone.

The kids were reunited in Claire’s house planning how to steal the Inferna Copula from Strickler, Y/n couldn’t go because she had to make up for being late to her shift.

“Good point. New plan” said Jim “We spike his coffee with extra strength cold medicine.

“I use my shadow staff”

“And I brin my warhammer in case that doesn’t knock him out”

“And I ever so gently…”

“Wait. What if he’s not alone? His office was guarded last time” interrupted Claire.

“Okay, fine. We spike the coffee”

“Shadow staff”

“I use my warhammer to take out his goons”

“Then, I ever so gently remove the ring”

“But what if it doesn’t come off?” Toby interrupted.

“Why would it not come off?” Jim was getting nervous.

“Oh lord” Y/n said to herself.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s glued on, or he added a few pounds” Toby explained his reasoning.

“Why would it be glued on, you dingus?” Claire said.

“You said be ready for every precaution!”

“He’s waking up!” Screamed Claire.

“Oh, how is he waking up? This isn’t even really happening!” Complained Jim.

“Cut off his hand!” Claire screamed again

“What?”

Y/n giggled. She could see the desperation in his brother’s eyes.

“Use your sword. Hurry do it!” Claire insisted.

“No, I’m not gonna cut—“

“Do it! Do it! Before it’s too late”

“Wait!” Y/n stood up.

The man that was still hanging out in the store looked at her.

“Sorry” she whispered. She sat back down and turned to the side so he wouldn’t hear her.

“If you cut his hand you cut mom’s hand too”

“Oh, I forgot. Angor Rot’s binding spell” Jim sighed “We’re not ready. There’s too much risk”

The costumer came up to the register and Y/n had to put her phone down.

“We’ll figured it out, Jim” she said before hanging up.

After the last buyer left, she was finally free. Outside the sun was setting. The sky was a beautiful pink shade. Around this time, the people of Arcadia are already home or on their way, leaving the streets almost empty.

She put the store keys on her bag and stretched her arms, her elbow cracked after holding the phone for so long.

Y/n crossed the street. It’s been three days since she started avoided walking by the library were Douxie worked. She has spent a lot of time with Douxie lately and she was afraid that she was smothering him. Of course, all she wanted was to keep the routine they had the last couple of weeks: go to the library, scratch Archie’s head and hang out with Douxie until his shift at Benoit started and then go home but she was scared it was too much. What if she was too much? Maybe she should give him some space and focus on her training for a while.

Y/n lifted her eyes from the floor to see if the stoplight had changed and saw them. Douxie and the pink haired girl that worked at HexTech, Zoe, they were just a couple steps away from her. Y/n started to get close go them to say hi when he heard him:

“I don’t know how to tell her! I mean, I don’t want to be rude”

“It’s not rude to set a boundary” Zoe replied. She seemed annoyed “If she’s annoying tell her to stop”

“But she has been so nice. I don’t know, Zoe” he scratched his head.

Y/n felt the blood rush to her ears. It couldn’t be.

“Listen, I already told you this last week. Talk to her”

The stoplight shifted and everyone keep walking but Y/n just stood there, watching them leave.

Y/n’s soul had fallen to her knees. She felt her blood stopping in place, her eyes filling up with tears. She felt light-headed. Her heart was broken. She had smothered him and he was too kind to tell her.

A thunder erupted making them stop. The cold rain started to fall. Everyone rushed to get protection except Y/n that stood there, watching the spot where Douxie had told Zoe he didn’t want her

“Are you okay, kid?” An old man holding an umbrella stopped next to her.

“Yes” she sighed. Her eyes wouldn’t leave the now empty spot.

“Let me help you cross the road” the man offered.

She nodded.

The man grabbed her arm and guide her across the street, stopping under the roof of some store so she wouldn’t get more wet.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call anyone?” He put his hand on her shoulder

Y/n lifted her eyes from the floor and looked into the man’s pale blue eyes. He was much taller than her.

“No, but thank you for your kindness” she smiled.

The man smiled back.

“You remind me of my kid. Head always in the clouds” he laughed and left her under the roof.

Y/n got home and went directly to the bathroom. She dropped the wet clothes on the floor and sat in the shower. The hot water melted the sadness off her skin. Her mind was numb. No thought went through her head, just the water hitting her back. She waited for the tears to fall but they never did. Eventually, she gave up and stood up.

When Y/n got out of the shower she stepped on something hard. She lifted her foot and saw her pebble, the pebble that she thought was on her bag.

“Maybe Al dropped it here” she thought, taking the pebble to her chest.

Y/n dragged her feet to her bedroom. Her body didn’t have energy, every single bit of it left through the drain.

Eventually, she dressed up and threw herself into the bed. In the darkness, she felt something or someone stepping on her mattress but she couldn’t care. The void had swallowed her.

“What happened?” Al stood next to her head.

Y/n sighed in response.

“Doesn’t matter” he said as he curled himself next to her neck “Tomorrow is another day” he licked the single tear that had fallen from her cheek.

—

Y/n opened her eyes, she wasn’t in her room anymore, she was in the woods, the woods that she’s been dreaming all her life.

“Welcome back to the land of the living”

Y/n stretched her arm trying to feel her comforter but she wasn’t in her bed, she was laying on top of a bed of leaves. She turned to look for Al and saw him sleeping next to her feet.

“Do you feel better?” Asked the woman to her right. A shadow was blocking her face but Y/n’s recognised her anyway “A bed made of leaves is no place for a lady like you to sleep”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she could only focus on the woman’s warm hand brushing the leaves away from her hair.

“Everyone is worried about you, Y/n. You can’t keep running to the woods like this”

“That’s not true” Y/n sat up.

“Oh, Y/n of course it is”

“Hisirdoux is not. He told me himself” Y/n crossed her arms.

The woman chuckled, “He is worried the most. Your father had to stop him from running to the wood to look for you!”

Y/n imaged Hisirdoux pout when he was told he couldn’t do something and smiled.

“Look at that smiled” the women tickled Y/n side “You like him”

“I do not” Y/n blushed.

“Young love is so sweet” The women chuckled and pinched the little girl’s cheeks “There is no crime in liking the errand boy”

“Stop it” Y/n’s cheeks darken further.

“I will not until you admit it” the women try to tickle the confession out of Y/n.

“Stop” she laughed.

—

Y/n lay there in her bed for what felt months yet also felt hours. Her phone stacking with messages yet she wouldn’t answer, she couldn’t even see them in case one of them was Douxie’s.

She heard the news of the destruction of the Inferna Copula in the brief time she met with Jim by the door of the bathroom. He had stopped his rambling when he saw his sister’s lack of response but that didn’t stop him from trying to get a reaction out of her.

One morning, Jim opened the door, his armor on.

“Y/n wake up! I need your help” he shook his sister awake.

“What?” She turned to him.

“Strickler is down stairs hiding from Angor Rot”

“Is this another attempt of getting me out of bed? I told you I am sick” she turned to the wall.

“No, no. Come with me” Jim grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the kitchen.

“Slow down, Jim” the boy had gotten stronger with his training and was almost dragging his sister down the stairs “Why do you have a smelly sock?” Y/n cringed when the smell got to her.

In the kitchen, Strickler was strapped to a chair, sleeping.

“Really?” She rolled her eyes at the view.

“He said Angor Rot was trying to kill him but nothing happened”

Y/n sighed. She didn’t have the patience to deal with the changeling. She took the sock from Jim and dangled in front of his face.

“Ugh! What is that?” Strickler jumped after smelling the rotten sock.

“Wakey, wakey. We survived the night with no sign of Angor Rot. Congratulations” Jim stepped in front of the changeling and took back the sock from his sister’s hand “We thought we’d bring you some breakfast” The boy threw the sock in his face.

“I don’t eat socks” Strickler scoffed “And I don’t appreciate being tied up”

“Cry me a river” Y/n crossed her arms.

“I asked you to protect me not torture me”

“And I said I’d keep you safe, not comfortable” with his sword, Jim cut the rope that was tied to Strickler’s wrists.

“Well, the sun is up. We’ll have until sundown to get me as far away as possible” Strickler rubbed his wrist as he looked through the window.

“Fine. Let me call the team” Jim grabbed the walkie-talkie from the counter.

Y/n jumped onto the counter next to her brother.

“Trollhunter to Warhammer, you copy?”

“Oh, goodie. The puberty Patrol is on the case. I feel so safe” Strickler mocked.

Y/n rolled her eyes and stuck her leg up when Strickler started to get to close to Jim but he yanked Jim’s walkie-talkie away anyway.

“Do you think your friends will have any chance against that killer? They’ll be a liability” Jim grabbed the walkie-talkie back while Stickler talked “May I remind you, you destroyed Angor’s soul. He’ll be out for blood, be it yours or theirs”

Y/n took deep breaths, trying to control the anger that started to simmer in her stomach and not hit the changeling right in the face while Jim told his friend to look for information on the last stone.

“Smart choice. For once, you’re learning” Strickler grabbed the empty coffee pot.

“For the record, Angor Rot destroyed his own soul” Jim said giving his teacher the cereal box.

A/n: hiiii hellooo!! I didn’t forget about the update!! I just had the worst migraine in the world im sorry 💖

[greyghoulclub]

There was a letter for Max on the table. It had been there for at least two months now. But she was too scared to open it, for may be written inside.

She stares at it from across the breakfast table while she was supposed to be eating breakfast before she got to school. With a shaking hand she picked it up and looked at the scratchy block handwriting on the envelope.

Maxine.

There was only one person apart from her mom who called her Maxine.

The letter was found in his room the day after he was skewered by the monster made of people. It was one of three. The other two addressed separately to his parents. She thought about the letters the gloomy day his coffin was lowered into the ground. It was in the middle of August but the sky had been overcast as if it was weeping for him too.

Her mom had sent the one addressed to his mother away the day after they were found. She saw her stepdad rip his up with some ugly words about his now deceased son. After that she hadn’t seen her step dad since. Fine by her, she didn’t like the guy anyways and he didn’t either.

Her mind was full of the memories of him, the good and the bad. The time where he had helped her beat a record on the arcade machines to win a giant stuffed bear for El, but then that was followed with a memory of him breaking her skateboard for sneaking out at night. She understands why he did it now, but she was still pissed about it. The walking paradox that was Billy Hargrove.

The letter itself read;

"Dear Maxine,

I want you to know I never really hated you, not one bit. I thought you were annoying sure, but who doesn't think their younger sibling is annoying? Tell Lucas I didn't hate him either, I was made to act that way. Neil wouldn't have taken too kindly to you hanging out with a black kid. He was the monster, not me.

He pit us against each other Max, especially so I wouldn't have had an ally against him. He used me to punish you since people would ask questions if you were walking about with a black eye. I hope he hasn't turned onto you since I'm going to die soon. You're a good kid Max, and you don't deserve anything he may or may not throw against you.

I'm going to sound insane right now, but there's more monsters in Hawkins other than Neil. Actual monsters that you'd see in a horror movie, dogs with no faces, ones that can walk on two legs. And one that's made out of people. That one made me take people to it against my will to help it get bigger. It brainwashed me Max, I can feel it in the back of my head as I'm writing this, it doesn't want me to tell you this. It tells me I need to not be as weak as the boy. I don't know who the boy is but you've got to keep him away from me. I already took Heather to the monster and her family, they got melted into the monster, it was the most horrible thing I've ever seen and it made me do it. I think I might be a bad person Max, but I don't want to be. I've never wanted to be a bad person but other people and things made me a bad person Max.

I don't know what I'm trying to tell you Max, I guess this might be the last time I speak to you as me. The monster is taking control more and more. Just remember that I love you, and while I might have not been the best brother to you, you were the best sister to me.

Love, Billy"

The letter had tear stains near the end, the ink starting to smear from either Billy's tears or Max's. Part of her was angry that it took Billy dying for him to tell her this, the other part felt a sort of relief to know that Billy really did love her. Tears were freely flowing as she read the letter again, pain in her chest growing for not realising earlier that Billy had been a victim of both the Mindflayer and Neil. She felt as if she had failed Billy even though she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

She clutched the letter close to her chest as she cried in the corner of Billy's room. "I'm sorry Billy, I'm so sorry,"

[phoenixlionme]

Carmilla and Vaggie Related Theories

I've seen a popular fan theory that Vaggie and Carmilla might actually be related, specifically a long-lost mother-daughter. And I'm here for it. I mean this seems like an obvious hint like with Vaggie being a former Exorcist Angel. And I'm here to share my own reasons for why I think them being related is a strong possibility. Though, if it happens to be a mislead, I still think they're best bros.

Their distant duet together when Carmilla makes her first appearance hints at a connection and I don't mean their future mentor/mentee bond in the 7th episode. For all the duets we've seen, they've been between people who have some sort of personal connection with each other - Vox and Alastor are bitter rivals; Charlie and Lucifer are an estranged father and daughter now rebuilding their bond; Charlie and Vaggie are committed and loving girlfriends. So, why does Vaggie and Carmilla get a duet before even meeting one another? Because their bond is going to be explored in Season 2.

Following from my last point, their bond being explored more makes sense. We saw Carmilla smile in pride when she heard of the Hotel's victory, clearly thinking of Vaggie. Plus, the Vees are going to be bigger antagonists, and their targets are Charlie, Lucifer, Alastor, and Carmilla (at least, the ones I remember), and Velvette especially dislikes Carmilla. So, I think a Velvette/Vaggie rivalry (maybe even Velvette developing a villainous and possessive romantic interest in the latter as it parallels Vox's one-sided crush on Alastor and Valentino's abusiveness to Angel Dust). And what better way for them to interact than through Carmilla.

They have similar personalities - Both are serious, emotionally guarded woman who are very protective over their respective loved ones. They both manage, at different times, to check Alastor's ego. And both show a softer side towards the people they love. And another subtle thing I've noticed - both speak in Spanish when angry (Vaggie with Alastor; Carmilla with Velvette).

Just how similar their designs are with similar grey skin, similar (though not completely identical) eyes, and long hair. And throughout "Out for Love", whenever Vaggie matches Carmilla's pose, their resemblance gets even stronger. It's almost like Ms. Viv is saying, "Look. Look. They're mother and daughter".

Following from #4, how can they look so similar but still be distinct. Two possibilities - One, if they're related, Vaggie took more after the father but still gained a few things from Carmilla; Two, since Vaggie is an Angel, it wouldn't be so out there that her Angelic qualities made her look slightly different than her supposed family who ended up in Hell, thus gaining demonic qualities.

Also, Vaggie share a subtle indicator of being related to Carmilla - Vaggie's shoulder sleeves (?; I don't know what they're called) are similar to Carmilla's literal white arms.

When Carmilla is first introduced, she has a similar role to Vaggie's - leading a group on how to make sure their respective business doesn't fail.

We still don't know the FULL extent of Vaggie's past. Yes, we know she's an exorcist but it's still ambiguous if she's Heaven born or a mortal who died, went to heaven, and recruited into being an Exorcist. Some things may have changed since the pilot, but I strongly believe that the crew is leaving Vaggie's full origins a secret until season 2 comes.

Both songs that Carmilla is in features Vaggie. And both songs speak directly or indirectly about her parental love to her daughters.

If this bit of info is still true, according to Fautisse (?), Vaggie is a great dance. And Carmilla has a ballet motif and uses dance as a fighting technique. Possible connection.

Similar to Lucifer and Charlie, where we see the former's wings when with his daughter during both of the songs from "Dad Beat Dad", Carmilla is able to help Vaggie regrow her wings during her song in "Hello, Rosie!"

Another thematic connection between the two - the use of angelic weapons. Carmilla has an entire business of procuring and making them while Vaggie is the only Hazbin resident to use an angelic weapon from the start (which largely hinted at her past Angel Exorcist past).

Something funnier but during a cast interview, both the VAs of Vaggie and Carmilla describe their respective characters the same way - "Bad Ass Bitch". See here.

And those are my thoughts. If anyone has other thoughts, please add on but be respectful.

[thetomorrowshow]

i can't remember (when you weren't there)

trust au sequel story - the seablings compare notes

yep there is a whole compilation of side stories that will be posted irregularly! there's already two on ao3 sooooo yeah have fun

~

“Yimecht! Stop swimming so far out!”

He laughs delightedly, sticks his tongue out at his sister behind. “You can’t catch me!”

“Yimecht!”

He keeps swimming, flicking his tail faster and faster, torpedoing through the water. Bubbles stream past his face, his ear fins are flat against the sides of his head, he loves going fast—

Something big barrels into him, catching him in its arms, rolling them to the side together.

Yimecht gasps out another laugh, wriggles out of his sister’s arms. “Again! Let’s do it again!”

“No,” Szise says firmly, and she seems grumpy. “Get in the pouch.”

That’s not fair! She may be in charge, but she’s mean. “I don’t want in the pouch,” he argues, crossing his arms. “I’m too big for it. It’s stupid.”

“I’ll make a bigger one when we have time,” she tells him. “It’s not safe for you to be out. Get in the pouch.”

“Why? Why isn’t it safe?”

Szise sighs. “There are dangerous people who want to hurt you. You have to stay hidden until your scales are hard, okay?”

Yimecht opens his eyes, slowly, to see a bedroom.

His bedroom.

Jimmy closes his eyes again, tries to grab on to the last vestiges of that strange, misty, familiar dream.

It slips away as he tries, smoke vanishing in his fingers.

Jimmy . . . Jimmy doesn’t dream. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a dream. Lizzie doesn’t dream, either, neither of them dream and it doesn’t make sense for him to just . . . dream something.

He doesn’t dream. He just doesn’t.

It had been about Lizzie, though.

Jimmy opens his eyes a second time, glances at the worn, ancient little book on his bedside table.

He needs to talk to her.

-

They don’t get the opportunity to talk until two days later.

The Codlands have been entirely freed, and they’ve already started rebuilding. Many refugees who had fled to other lands are returning, and Jimmy’s own little camp of rebels has made it back to their individual homes. He has plans to personally thank each and every one of them, after the dust settles a bit.

He’s supposed to go see Scott tomorrow—they’ve been apart for far too long already, two weeks without seeing one another (though they message each other whenever there’s a free moment) feels like years, but until then, he’s meant to be arranging all the tasks that need to be completed this weekend and delegating them to the various members of his newly-reformed small council.

Which, of course, is a perfect time to talk to Lizzie. Jimmy has been positively itching to just sit down and talk to her for weeks now, ever since he came into the possession of this diary that clearly belonged to her.

Not to mention, she’s a giant sea monster now.

That feels like something they maybe ought to discuss more than just in passing.

They have a meeting place that’s always been theirs, a little dock at the edge of the capital, usually empty due to its rundown state, the wood old and rotting, the hand-rope almost entirely frayed.

Jimmy arrives right on time, slipping his boots off and setting them on the dock beside him, then tugging up the cuffs of his trousers a little bit to be able to dip his feet fully in the water.

Jimmy’s clothes are all fine to get in the water, though some are more suited for it than others. His tighter trousers he usually leaves on, stretchy and aerodynamic, made for swimming. He doesn’t wear those too terribly often, though, as many other cultures find them inappropriate (and he doesn’t think they have any room to talk, he’s seen the leggings that royal Mythlanders prance around in—but he supposes it’s just part and parcel of being Cod), preferring instead to wear billowy trousers or skirts.

The pair he’s wearing now are a patterned brown-green, loose-fitting, bunched at the ankles with leather cords. They’re wrapped around his waist and tied there; just one pull of the tie securing it and they’d fall, leaving him in his knee-length, skin-tight shorts, ready to leap into the water. He loves their convenience and comfort, and some of his pairs (including these) fit with the betrothal clothing standards (which is, coincidentally, something that they’ll be discussing this weekend).

All that to say, he really doesn’t care too much about getting his boots wet, because half the time he jumps into the water without taking off anything (despite Cod clothing being designed for that very purpose), but he does so now so that he can sit for a moment and relish in the feeling of the water between his toes.

He’s considering slipping off his trousers and sliding into the water (Jimmy only ever half-undresses for swimming—if he’s wearing tight trousers, he’ll take off his shirt, but he feels oddly exposed if he ends up with both off) when Lizzie pops up out of the water beside the dock, huge and a little terrifying, the water rocking against him in actual waves at her entrance.

His sister is a sea monster.

Or, more accurately, a sea monster is his sister.

The pink scales that he’s always known are still there in the same patterns on her cheeks and jaw and around her eyes, but her pale skin is gone, replaced by smooth blue scales. Her face isn’t quite the same, a bit sharper and somehow more . . . fitting, like this is how it’s meant to frame her cheekbones, and her more humanoid face had been just barely the wrong shape or size. She’s a good twelve feet tall, probably standing on the ocean floor yet still able to stand head and shoulders above the surface.

Changed as she is, she is his sister, and nothing’s truly different about the grin that she gives him, soft and loving and maybe a little bit vicious.

“Hey, Lizzie,” he says fondly, and Lizzie clicks her tongue in a dolphin greeting—and her tongue is way longer than it used to be, whoa.

“How is everyone settling back in?” she asks, voice a little echo-y in a way it never was before.

Jimmy shrugs. “As well as anyone would expect, I guess,” he says. “It’s hard, but we’re making it work.” He hadn’t been planning on doing any swimming right now, but with Lizzie shaking water droplets everywhere, he figures he might as well. He pulls free the tie of his trousers and slips into the water, stretching out his arms and kicking his legs, the water cool and inviting against his skin and scales.

The effects of living without the ocean (or any meaningful body of water, really) for so much time hadn’t gone unnoticed. The first moment that he had dipped into the ocean proper—two weeks ago, when he and Lizzie had swum out to free the Codlands—it felt like some dying part of him was suddenly revived, despite not really being aware that it was dying in the first place.

Like part of his soul, slowly drifting further away, was bound back to him.

And he wonders, now, if leaving the ocean in the first place played any part in separating him from his memories.

No use in small talk. He might as well cut to the chase.

“So I’ve got this book,” he says, just as Lizzie says, “Scott gave me this book.”

Jimmy pauses, waits for Lizzie to insist he can talk first, but Lizzie just keeps on talking.

“It’s a history book of the ocean, from . . . hundreds of years ago, I think?” she says, pulling a book out from a very large satchel (which still looks too-small on her). “It’s absolutely ancient. It talks about the forming of the world, and the development of the seas, and this sea . . . dragon? The word doesn’t quite make sense—this sea monster that used to rule the ocean. Apparently she died, and there just wasn’t a ruler for a long time? I don’t know, I skipped most of that part. Boring politics and all that. And then it talks about her two children hatching or something, and the splitting off of the salmon, and . . . that’s where it ends.”

Jimmy frowns. He isn’t quite sure when the salmon split off, but it was long enough ago that none of his people were alive when it happened. Most scholars agree that it was probably several hundred years in the past; the Codlands have been pitted against the salmon for as long as can be remembered. “When did you say it was written?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, the movement sending a small wave to rock into Jimmy. “There’s something weird, though—I don’t speak the language it’s written in. But—”

“You were kind of able to read it anyway?” guesses Jimmy, his stomach flipping.

Lizzie nods, giving him a strange look. “Exactly. If I think too hard about reading it, I stop being able to. But I think it’s some old form of Oceanic. Have you seen it before?”

She hands the book to Jimmy, one hand large enough to cover both of Jimmy’s.

Sure enough, flipping open to the third page, it’s written in those strange old letters that itch in the back of Jimmy’s brain, tall and blue and washed-out. This book is far more neat than the one he has, the handwriting strict and uniform, the lines straight and not trailing down the page.

If he carefully doesn’t focus, he can tell that it’s saying something about a god.

This one, he knows, wasn’t written by Lizzie.

But he can suddenly hear it, as if told by his sister.

“Once upon a time, mama met our father, who was a god. Then she could die happy, because her babies would live forever.”

He blinks, glances up to see Lizzie waiting, sharp, black nails tapping against her arm. “Sorry, what was your question?”

“Have you seen these letters before?”

Slowly, almost trance-like, Jimmy reaches for his book, which he’d left on the dock, tucked into the large pocket of his trousers.

“Scott had this, he said he meant to give it to you,” he says. “It’s—it looks like . . . well, see for yourself.”

Lizzie takes the book from him—this one, smaller than the other, appears almost tiny in her hands—and carefully opens it, pinched between her fingers.

And soon enough, brow furrowed as she studies it, Lizzie comes to the same conclusion that Jimmy had.

“I wrote this,” she says, seeming almost dumbstruck. “I—this is my handwriting. This is about us. I wrote this. I don’t remember writing this.”

“I think it’s from Before.”

Lizzie doesn’t respond, eyes flying across the pages. “This is about you!” she gasps, pointing. “It says you were a small, damaged egg.”

“Embellishments to make the story more dramatic,” Jimmy waves off. He does remember seeing that part and stoutly ignoring it.

Lizzie pauses to give him a look. “If I wrote this, I wouldn’t lie. Besides, you look like the type to be small and damaged.”

She returns to her reading as Jimmy sputters a couple of protests. There’s no proof that he was ever an egg, actually! Let alone a small and damaged one!

After several minutes, she looks up again, brow creased. “Jimmy,” she says slowly.

“Yimecht!” his sister calls, laughing.

“How old are we?”

“Well, people usually tell me I look about twenty-four,” Jimmy says, checking the backs of his hands for wrinkles. They’re as unwrinkled as they’ve always been. “So maybe somewhere around there?”

“Yes, but you’ve looked twenty-four for the past decade,” says Lizzie. “And for . . . what, thirty years? For thirty-odd years, people have been telling me I look twenty-six. Shouldn’t I be fifty-something? At least?”

“You don’t really look twenty-six anymore,” Jimmy comments. “You look like a sea monster.”

“A young sea monster.”

“Still a sea monster.”

“My point is,” Lizzie presses, “the history book says that the two eggs of this ancient sea-dragon-monster-thing hatched, and ruled the ocean together. And this other book says that you and I were—the rulers, I guess. When I wrote this, we ruled the sea. But according to this book, if we were those two eggs, that would have been centuries ago at least. Far too long ago. How . . . how old are we?”

“Then she could die happy, because her babies would live forever.”

“Wow. We’re gonna live forever?”

“We’re gonna live forever,” Jimmy says now, echoing the words of his fading memory. “That’s . . . I think you told me that. A long, long time ago.”

It’s his sister’s voice in the memory, even if the words aren’t familiar. He would recognize her anywhere (and he always has, when they first crossed paths nearly a decade ago he heard her voice and knew instantly that she was his sister, despite knowing nothing else).

The idea—living forever—sends a little thrill through Jimmy’s scales. He’s never going to die. He never has to grow old.

That sounds awesome.

Lizzie, however, seems less than excited by the prospect. “I think so,” she says quietly. “That feels right.”

She looks down at her hands, her claw-like nails. “Joel’s having my wedding ring remade,” she says after a moment. “Since the change is looking kind of permanent.”

“That’s nice of him.” Jimmy hadn’t even realized, but Lizzie’s still wearing the ring, on a thin chain around her neck.

Hopefully he doesn't turn big right after getting married to Scott. That would be a huge ring.

“Promise me,” Lizzie says suddenly. “Promise me that we’ll always be here for each other.”

Why wouldn’t they be? They’re going to live forever, of course they’ll always support each other. She’s his sister, even when his memory was a blank hole he knew her, and Jimmy can’t even imagine not being by her side.

“Yeah,” he says, confused as to why she would even ask. “Of course.”

“Jimmy, I mean it,” she says. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he says. “Why would I leave you?” The look she gives him is almost mournful, markedly different from how it might have looked in a face not entirely scaley.

“Things will change over time,” she says vaguely. “You’ll feel differently then.”

He doesn’t think he will. He would never abandon his blood, no matter what happens.

And, unsatisfying and unfinished, their conversation ends there. Something has put Lizzie in a somber mood, so Jimmy takes the journal back, vowing to translate it when he has time so they can properly read it. Lizzie takes the history book with a promise to do the same.

And Jimmy forgets, over the next couple of days, Lizzie’s concern. Too caught up in the excitement of living forever, he doesn’t imagine there could ever be real consequences—none that matter when compared to immortality. And then, even that is mostly put from his mind, what with discussions of betrothals and long meetings of holding hands with Scott under the table.

But he does translate the journal, and traces his fingers across hundreds of years of protection and love.

He doesn’t remember it as being his—

“Yimecht! Stop swimming so far out!”

—but his name is there, dozens of times.

Smallbelovedfoundbrother.

Yimecht.

He thinks he likes it.