#keeper of the lost cities tickle

[wholesome-lee-trash]

KOTLC tickle scenes??

Remember that scene where Sophie learns Squall has to remove someone's fingernails? What if I made that scene but instead of torturing the guy we just tickled him instead?

Also remember that scene where Keefe tickled Sophie on the Alicorn? Yeah what if they landed (safety) and had a little break?

Also remember that scene where Keefe tickled Sophie while Fitz and Sophie were training together? It didn't seem like he wanted to stop...

Keefe is a ler in every sense of the word. He's just too afraid he's gonna push a boundary he shouldn't. Though I do think Fitz and Sophie get him back. Often.

Remember that scene where Dex hates Fitz? (Yes like all of them), what if Dex got angry at Fitz for calling him Deck and wrecked him in front of the whole school (all of the girls are fawning over his laugh)

Remember how Dex and Sophie practiced alchemy in the cave in the first book? What if they got a little Distracted?

Remember when Sophie found Elementine (that one star she definitely was not supposed to find that only councilors are supposed to even know exist) and Dex came up behind her and reached his hands up to help her adjust the dials and stuff? Well, what if when he pulled back, his fingers brushed across her sides and she snapped her arms down and blushed? Of course, Dex would be worried at first, but he has 3 siblings. Shenanigans ensue.

Remember when Dex's siblings tease him over liking Sophie? What if they ganged up on him and tickled him until he admits it?

Remember when Keefe teases Dex about liking Sophie? What if Keefe tickled Dex until he admits it?

Remember when they were all in pajamas together? AU where tickling is a normal concept that everyone does to everyone; Tickle sleepover!!

Keefe being a smug brat like he is. Sophie turning him down a notch.

Sophie crying over something or another. Keefe comfort. Gentle comfort tickles. "Sophie?" "Hmhmhmhm?" "Do you like this?" "Whahahat?" "You haven't asked me to stop."

Remember that scene where Keefe had snuck into Sophie's room to leave her a note while he was neverseen? What if he stayed and was on her bed and he was doing the Sencen Smirk and Sophie tickled him for worrying her.

Remember that scene where Sophie and Fitz went to that weird Selkie Skin place and Keefe was there in his neverseen outfit? Messy reunion tickles lol

Remember how Sophie is Special? Imagine if she could telepathically tickle people and she gets bored in detention and tickles Keefe without touching him? And what if, later during PE, Keefe takes her behind the bleachers and wrecks the girl for making him Act Normal in front of that mentor? It's worth it though because Sophie gets brownie points with Sir Tiergan

Remember that scene where Sophie hugged Sir Tiergan and he kind of stiffened up? That's because Sir Tiergan is a Lee and he thought Sophie was gonna start tickling him.

Keefe tickling Tam

Linh trying to cheer people up by tickling them.

Biana giving Sophie a makeover. But unfortunately for Sophie, the brushes freaking tickle.

[winterfireice]

Chapter 3!

taglist: @tiana4evahh @doodle-do-wop @amandayetagain

Full chapter under cut

“There is no reason that you should have more cologne than I do perfume,” Biana says to her brother Fitz,  

“It’s not my fault I like to smell nice,” he responds,

Sophie and the rest of her friends were hanging out at Havenfield after a particularly long day at school. Keefe and Fitz had gotten to hear about the lecture regarding safety precautions in case of a Neverseen attack on the school even though, one, the majority of the Neverseen were in a top security prison, two, all of them had more than enough experience dealing with and attacks and of course three, Fitz and Keefe had already graduated. That hadn't stopped their friends from talking about it for over half an hour though,

“How did we get to this topic again?” Marella asks, 

“I don’t know, we went from school, to dessert, to their cosmetics apparently,” Sophie responds,

“That cake in the cafeteria today was delicious though, I hope they have it tomorrow,” Dex mentions,

“When has our school ever had two edible sides in a row?” Stina asks from next to Dex, lying on one of the colorful blankets Sophie had found inside the house,

“Good point, we're never seeing that cake again until the rest of us graduate,” Dex sighs dramatically and falls to the ground, but when he does he brushes against Stina, his cheeks bursting with red hues.

Sophie also noticed the way Stina brushed her hair in front of her face but left the hand that was resting against Dex’s leg, 

“Do you see what I see?” Sophie transmits to Keefe,

“I do! It is taking everything in me not to start screaming,” Keefe’s mind squeals after he lightly nods to Sophie so she can enter his mind, “They are so adorable, they need to confess already,” 

“Is it possible we are too excited about their so far non-existent relationship?” Sophie asks hesitantly,

Keefe’s mind hesitated for a moment, “Maybe, but do we have to deal with that?” 

“Not yet, this is way too much fun. It’s like watching a TV show,” 

“So are we all going to ignore the Sokeefest happening right now?” Marella asks while twirling Linh’s silver hair around her fingers, “they both are staring off into the distance like none of us are here and I have known you telepaths long enough to know that means they are having a conversion none of us can hear,”

“Plus Keefe is starting to look like a tomato and only looks that way when he’s trying to keep something a secret,” Biana adds,

“Nope, nuh-uh. No secrets here just good old friend time,” Keefe says super unconvincingly as he swings an arm around Sophie and rests his head against her shoulder,

“Yeah, that was super believable bud,” Fitz laughs, “And that looks super comfortable, not like your straining your neck at all,” 

“Yup, really comfy. Fos-Boss isn't too close to the ground or anything,” Keefe mumbles,

 Sophie laughs at the feeling of his breath blowing against her skin “You’re tickling me! And you’re going to be in pain later, we should switch,” she gently pushes him off of her side and rests against him. She brings her hand up to his stomach and tickles him in return, making his body thrash,

“You two were made for each other,” Stina says in a tone Sophie can't tell is complimentary or not,

“Thank you?” She responds, “At least I think,” 

“Hey sometimes two people just work well together and there is nothing you can do about it,” Keefe grins in Stina and Dex’s direction, causing Dex to blush even more,

“I want that one day,” Dex almost whispers, 

“I have to say something, I can’t hide how amazing they would be together,” Keefe’s mind almost shouts,

“Don’t you dare,” Sophie tells him, “This is way too important and if we push them they will never admit it, especially Stina we need to let them figure it out on their own. Remember how long it took us to get together? Every time someone teased us about our possible feelings it pushed me farther and farther away from accepting it,” 

“You’re right, I know. But they better figure out their feelings soon because I need to be able to obsess over them because they are perfect for each other,” 

“If you keep it together for a couple of more hours I’ll ask my mom to bake something,” Sophie bribes,

“I know what you’re doing and it’s working,” Keefe playfully sighs,

“Hello, earth to either of you,” manicured hands wave in front of their faces, “What are you guys thinking about?” Biana says,

“Dessert,” Both Keefe and Sophie say at the same time, causing the rest of their friends to laugh,

~~~

“Edaline is the best,” Keefe says while stuffing Custerbursts into his mouth,

Sophie had kept her word and after everyone had gone home she asked her mom to make Custerbursts. Edaline quickly agreed and the three of them started trying to bake them, it mostly went well except for Sophie spilling hot water over her arm and Keefe spilling a bag of flour,

Now they were lying on her bed eating and discussing what Elvin foods tasted like human ones, 

“The purple root thing tastes just like cheeseburgers, ugh I miss cheeseburgers I know we stuff that tastes the same but I miss the textures the Forbbiden cities have,” Sophie says,

“Makes sense, I had the opposite feeling when I lived there, it must be nostalgia or something,” Keefe says as lushberry juice drips down his chin, 

 Sophie nods,  “You need a napkin love, you are going to get juice everywhere,”  

“Better?” Keefe asks after he wipes his mouth,

“You still have some on your nose Love,” Sophie tells him, grabbing a napkin and wiping it off herself,

Keefe takes advantage of Sophie leaning towards him and surprises her by wrapping his arms around her and tickling her until she is laughing so much she falls back onto her pillows,

“Ok stop, stop!” Sophie giggles, 

“That is payback for earlier by the way,” Keefe laughs and he lays beside her, 

“That was overkill Keefe,” Sophie says, “I think you just wanted an excuse to lay down,”

“How could you accuse me of such crimes?” Keefe says sarcastically,

“Because,” the rest of Sophie’s sentence gets interrupted by her imparter ringing suddenly next to her,

“Je crois que je meurs” Stina’s voice comes through the screen,

“You're not dying, breathe and then talk. What's going on?” Sophie responds, staying in French,

“Are you sure that you're not going to use this against me in the future,” Stina asks skeptically,

“I will not use it against you maliciously but one day if this conversation becomes funny I will jokingly make fun of you like friends do, is that ok?” 

“Fine, I guess you’re my best option right now,” Stina sighs, “After we all started to leave your place almost everyone had leaped away but Dex and I, and the wind was blowing my hair everywhere so I was complaining and you want to know what he said?” Stina says like she’s mad at him, “He said, he thought it looked really nice like that,”

“And were angry about that?” Sophie asks, causing Keefe to chuckle,

“Yeah isn't that a compliment?” Keefe asks also in French,

“Wait, he can understand me?” Stina asks confused,

“You didn't know he was here? Sorry, I thought you could see him,” Sophie apologizes,

“No I could see him but he speaks French?”

“Of course I do,” He shifts a little so he is more in the frame of the imparters camera

“What do you mean by of course?” 

“Stina,” Sophie says confused, “You know he’s a polyglot too right?” 

Sophie watches realization dawn on her face, “I need to stop forgetting polygots exist,” 

“Yeah, why does this keep happening to you?” Sophie asks her, “This is the second time,”

“I don’t know! Maybe because me and my family learn languages like normal people instead of just knowing everything,” 

“Wait until you find out we both have photographic memories too,” Keefe teases,

“Shut up, this isn't why I called. You two really double how annoying you are when you guys are together,” 

Sophie cuts Stina off, “Ok go back to what you were talking about, if you want I can kick Keefe out but go back to Dex,” 

“No I guess it’s fine he already knows at this point,” Stina grumbles, “The hair thing was mostly it, I just want to know what he meant by it. You people are all so sickeningly positive all the time even when you’re in the middle of dying that I don’t know if he meant it in a friendly or… in a not just friendly way,” 

“It's impressive how you can insult and compliment us in the same sentence,” Sophie starts, “Do you want what Dex said to be in a friendly way?

“I don't know! Clearly I am out of my depth here Sophie. He probably meant nothing by it and I should ignore it and bury myself under one of the stables until everyone forgets about it,” Stina seems to throw her head into a pillow next to her and Sophie tries to muffle a laugh which only makes it come out as a loud snort,

“Reminder that we can’t forget, with our whole photographic memories,” Keefe mentions,

“Ok, I’m reconsidering your offer to kick him out,” Stina says deadpanned, “Better yet, I’m going to go,”

“You sure? I feel like I didn't help much,” Sophie responds,

“I don’t need advice or anything I think at this point I’m too stubborn for that but thanks for listening,” Stina tells her, “You should go back to your annoying boyfriend,” 

“Aww thanks, Hexie, since you are already impressed by my stunning personality I should tell you I’m on team ‘tell him you're falling for him’,” Keefe peeps up,

Stina makes a face at his comment like she’s disgusted by the implication, “I don’t fall, good night you two,” with that she clicks away leaving Sophie and Keefe alone in her room again,

“I don’t care what she says, she’s falling,” Keefe says switching back to the enlighted language, his arms still lying over Sophie, he snuggles closer moving his face to the crook of his neck,

A buzzing comes from Kefes pocket and he groans in annoyance, 

“Doesn't everyone know it’s snuggle and sleep time?” Keefe mumbles, as he does the bare minimum of moving to answer his imparter,

“Oh it’s Dex,” Keefe seems to perk up only slightly,

“Hi, are you with Sophie?” Dex asks,

“No I just have a really realistic life-sized pillow of her,” Keefe says,

“Don’t mind him, he gets cranky when he’s sleepy,” Sophie laughs, “What’s up?” 

“Well… did Keefe already tell you what I was talking to him about earlier?” 

“Kind of,” Sophie pauses, “I more guessed,” 

“How did you possibly do that?” Dex questions,

“It doesn't matter, I’m assuming you're calling about Stina,” 

“Yeah I am, something happened today when we were leaving your place,”

“Oh really?” Keefe says, his tone slightly elevated for a reason only Sophie knows,

“I told her that her hair was pretty, I’m freaking out because she got really quiet and then made some excuse to go home,” Dex sighs, “I feel like I’m messing it all up, I just want her to like me,” he wines, causing Keefe to laugh and disguise it as a cough, 

“I’m sure it will be fine Mickey Mouse,” Keefe says including the nickname that hasn't gone away since Sophie told him what human Disney was,

“But what if I ruin our friendship and then she never wants to see me again?” Dex continues, “That would be awful,” Dex is looking past the camera lost in thought,

“You should talk to her Dex,” Sophie hints, “It may turn out better than you expect,” 

“She’s right, I mean she usually is but yeah you should tell her,” Keefe mumbles,

“Wow he really is tired,” Dex says as Keefe yawns,

“Yeah, I should probably let you go before he starts snoring,” Sophie only half-jokes,

“Good plan, I’ll see you tomorrow at the team meeting,” 

“Good night, oh, and Dex? You really should talk to Stina,” at Sophie’s comment Dex only shakes his head before hanging up,

“They’re oblivious,” Keefe says with his eyes closed,

“So were we and look at us now,” Sophie whispers, to the blonde boy in her arms,

“Fair point,” Keefe whispers back, “Can we sleep now? You’re too comfy not to fall asleep on,” 

“Of course love,” Sophie reaches to turn off the light and settles into bed falling asleep next to the oblivious idiot that stole her heart,

[lightwing-s]

So I was thinking about the request for Dick. Again. And here's what I came up with.

Dick s/o being a forensic scientist. And while Grayson himself is a detective, they made a bet who will crack the work case faster. One night, when Nightwing and batfamily are on mission, she sneaks into batcave to access the newest technology and software. Ofc Dick catches her red handed and calls a cheater. It all leads to teasing and fooling around (I'm thinking fluff and comedy style), up to the point where she's forced to admit he's better (maybe he kisses or tickling her to the point of surrender).

TY 🙃

There was no denying you and your boyfriend, Dick Grayson, were competitive. Hell, even your own  relationship started out of a silly competition where some friends from your precinct had a bet over which of you could go longer without any dates or hookups. Safe to say, you both lost at  the same time/ night.

Dating him also came with an exclusive pack of friends and family that would eventually become your own. To you, in particular, Alfred ended up coming  really close, trading recipes and him even teaching you Dick’s favorite dishes. He was your relationship unofficial keeper, and also your greatest accomplice.

That’s how you ended up sneaking into the Batcave one thursday night. 

The entire family was out on patrol, and you really could use the computer’s substance scan your boyfriend loved to mention. A couple had recently been murdered in one of the city’s most expensive apartment complexes, but barely any clues could be found, taking you and your team a thorough job to get even the smallest of fingerprints. Dick had also been assigned the same case, thus starting your competition of the week(s). I know, it looks very unprofessional, and borderline unethical, but your dedication to win showed very productive for the force.

Sitting in front of the large computer, waiting for the analysis of an orange substance you found in several places on the crime scene but conveniently kept it a secret from your boyfriend, you took in the environment you were once crazy to see. You had never been to the cave with anyone, let alone by yourself, so it took a lot of convincing (and some bribery) for Alfred to allow you in.

You could already feel the taste of victory on your tongue when the sound of defeat reached your ears.

“What do we have here?” you heard your boyfriend say from the elevator door. “A cheater!”

Immediately hiding under the desk, you mentally cursed yourself for not being more careful and for all the fun Dick was going to take out of your situation. Damn it, I was so close!

His silent steps reached your location, and you could see his groin leveled with your eyes under the tight suit. In any other conditions, you’d appreciate how you stood, but right now, it took everything in you not to punch it.

“If you say anything, I swear…”

“Me!” he feigned indignation, giving you his hand to pull you back up. “You’re the one showing terrible sportsmanship.”

“Oh, like you never cheated in any of our games before!”

“Never!” he faked his innocence, gaining a punch from you on his shoulder. He really could piss you off sometimes. “What are you doing, babe?” he questioned, grabbing at your hips and lacing his arms around them, trying to make you uncross your arms and hug him back.

“Nothing…” you faked, but he saw right through you, as usual, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief. “I found something in the crime scene, okay? Yes, I didn’t tell you, but I know that in the Nichols’ murder you hid information from me too. Consider this revenge! But the precinct’s scanner can’t make out what it is because it’s mixed with something else and keeps giving me inconclusive results. I knew Bruce had this new top of the line scanner that according to Tim can identify every substance imaginable so I kind of bribed Alfred with two dinners a month if he let me get into the cave.”

“You promised Alfred what?!” he asked, brushing off everything else you said.

“Shut it, Grayson. You love his food anyway and…” you were about to tell him off when the AI’s voice announce “Scan finalized.”

You instantly turned around, leaving the comfortable embrace of your boyfriend, too anxious to know what the orange powder you had been studying for days finally was. However, when your boyfriend’s boisterous laugh filled the room and you saw the bright letters spelling out CHEETOS on the screen, you knew everything you did to get where you were ended up being for absolutely absolutely nothing.

“I can’t believe it.” you said in disbelief, as your boyfriend was out of breath behind you. And worse: “Thompson was eating cheetos while we looked for evidence.”

Fuck Thompson. Your fucking lab parter and dumbest person in the world had ruined your chances, again.

“Ah, babe.” he hugged you from behind, kissing you cheek and resting his head on your shoulder. “Admit it, I’ve always been the better detective.”

Dead in the eyes, you refuse to answer. But Dick knows how to break you better than anyone, so he starts pecking all over your face, forcing a smile to spread on your lips.”

“Say it, Bart…”

Sighting in defeat, you finish: “You’re the better detective. You win the game.”

.

requests are open. you can also check out my updated masterlist ♡

[unholywriter]

So glad you asked! Pffft.

I would love an enemies to loves with beloved Percival! The more angst the better! :P

Plot can be whatever you wish!

Have a wonderful day!

We love the enemies to lover’s tropes! That’s actually what was gonna be a base too what I was gonna write for my fanfic~ 👀 So I guess here’s part one.

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III

Warnings: None.

“We’re all Runways.”

Chapter One - The Tavern and the Job of Ironheart.

Being a runaway Monk fresh out in the open world left Nor’i to no full extent to the freedoms she tried to reach. She knew one day they’d find her, but what went on behind those closed doors made her stomach churn with absolute horrid disgust. So she left.

She didn’t stick her nose into any business that could follow and travel back to her, wanting to keep a clean trail as short as possible. But being a Water Genasi, pointed fingers could be inevitable. With that - for those first couple of years she was a ghost. Then she met people. People that got her into the trade, brought her into a business that made coin and lots of it. She did jobs for money, smashing abominations of creature’s heads in. She’d admit there came a kind of thrill that she couldn’t quench. Although that thirst nearly (did) get her and a lot of her party members killed. Learning was the easy part, the hard part was remembering with regret. Once she saw the light leave the eyes of some one who trusted her. It stayed with her, burning - never leaving with a gnawing ping of pain at the back of her head and in her heart.

It was the third year of being a Mercenary. The sixth year that she left. For now she traveled by her lonesome, pack on her back, hood over her head as she entered a village with snow spitting heavily to the ground. Griping the fur of her cloak, she soldiered on entering a tavern in sight at the edge of Ironheart’s city line. The snow at her boots was kicked off as she felt the warm air tickle her neck, pecking her nose and slowly creeping down her spine. A warm-felt, welcoming shiver made a sigh leave her lips.

She scoured the inn as she shuffled to an empty small table near the back of the room. She didn’t need sleep, it was nearly seven AM in the morning and from a cave not to far she camped at, Nor’i managed to catch enough for the time being.

“Early drinker my fine friend?” A tavern keeper came by with a fresh tankard of what could possibly be water, ale or some kind of hard liquor. She sat it down easy, eyeing the new traveler with a delicate gaze.

“Early wander.” Nor’i piped back, beckoning a small smile.

“You’re the adventuring type then huh? Got any fine stories to pass around?” She cleared a few other late night drunks messes as she kept her ear out for a reply.

“Only if you have any fresh jobs up for grabs. Maybe I can start a local tale.” Nor’i cracked a larger grin sitting down and bringing the drink to her lips.

A small laugh came from the barmaid, she then pointed to the wall closest to the bar side of the Tavern. On it stapled high with help wanted’s, some crossed out, some nearly torn to shreds. A few fresh and left be. “There are many to choose from. Although a very frightening, recent accident happened. A young boy had gone missing and his remains were found scattered from here up into the mountains. He was a noble man’s son, so the money would be paid handsomely for your trouble for hunting down who or what nabbed that poor little trouble maker.”

“Did you know the kid of the father well?” Nor’i didn’t leave her violet eyes. They were like the southern lights and it fascinated her.

“Lord Euston’s son would pop around here with a few older kids time to time, his father was a frequent. Lost his youngest daughter to a yellow fever a couple years ago. Tragedy never seems to leave that family alone.” She sighed with sorrow, whipping the table down now. Nor’i brought the drink too her lips again as she slid the washcloth right underneath.

“He lives further in Ironheart I assume?” Nor’i questioned for some more info. This could be the job that could bring her to the streets of Emon if she wanted it too. Becoming a well known mercenary? It sounded good to her alright, she needed the break. Especially with all the past baggage from last year.

“Yes, a secluded noble home on the far left side before you hit the main square.” She grabbed the handles to quite a few tankard’s that bewildered Nor’i with how her tiny, little hands could hold that many at a time. “I do hope I was some help. The Euston’s deserve some resolve.”

Nor’i grabbed at a small pouch at the side of her belt, grabbing at some gold to pay for her drink and a room. “Actually, if could grab a room and pay for this fine ale - I can be on my way to see what I can find out.”

“The ale is on the house.” She let a soft emotion cross her features. One that told Nor’i thank you for taking an interest. She seemed genuinely worried, and Nor’i suspected she cared for the boy more than she let on. Maybe even Lord Euston himself. “Eight pieces for as long as you need. Just please do be careful. I’d hate to hear you’ve become scattered across the mountains next.”

“I’ll certainly try to keep all my limbs attached.” Nor’i dropped the pieces in her hand and got up. Grabbing her pack, she was led to a room up the stairs at the second floor. The barmaid waved a goodbye as Nor’i entered. Dropping her pack on the small desk she began to pull out her items. Rations, a journal. A spare set of light clothing and a nightdress. Along with that was her full wooden rose staff, a piece of ingenuity as it folded into itself to make it easier to carry. But once it was in full, it was as sturdy as a rock and hit like a brick.

Another sigh left Nor’i’s lips. Being a drifter was lonely, and she didn’t know what laid ahead. But, she knew she still wasn’t ready to find another group so soon. She then snapped the staff to the side like a whip and out came it in full. Slamming the end down to the wood floor creating a thump she smiled at her trusty friend. She was down for anything though, eventually this loneliness will be all to much to bear. But for now, a family needed some Justice. Maybe more people in Ironheart are apart of this mystery one way or another. And one way another, she would find out.

Exiting her tavern room, she wanted to go find some shop keeps and prepare for this dreadfully possible, morbid adventure. Before she could take a step to the left to close the door — she slammed straight into this tall, lanky stranger. The impact hit her like a falling meteorite. Falling down to the floor, Nor’i’s ass hit hard. Her staff clanked to the floor next too her, and shortly after she looked up she peered into the eyes of the most vibrant greenish set she’s ever seen in her life. “Pardon me.”

A soft accent was heard as he past her. Getting up she watched as he grabbed a key, and entered the room right next door.

What a jerk. Couldn’t even help her up and apologize? A narrow of her eyelids, and a huff through her nose was all that was seen and heard in the hall after she began to head back downstairs and leave the tavern.

Into Ironheart she went this frigid morning.

Chapter Two

[cerisesakurainspring]

Oikawa Tooru

~~And in the midst of their own personal struggles exists compassion far beyond they have for their own.~~

The midnight chime masked the jingle of keys being turned in a lock motion. Once it clicked in place, the chocolate-eyed lad wiggled the gate lightly to ensure it was locked before walking away.

With no destination in mind, he let his feet take the lead. Head down. Lost in thoughts. The sound of the city disappearing with every step. 

He must have gone past the outskirts of town as his shoes were slowly dirtied by the unpaved road. He lifted his head to take in his unfamiliar surroundings. 

It was devoid of people and fairly far away from the usual urban living he was accustomed to.

The only sound was that of a stream, plump koi's swimming about. He followed the inflow of the water as it eventually lead him up a quiet valley. Trees around him stood tall like wise keepers of the night, keeping a watchful eye, and giving a sense of inconsequential to beings smaller than its own. 

Across him was a serene lake, its crystal clear reflection seamlessly blended with the sky as if the lone man was suddenly teleported in a sphere of surreal dreamscape, blurring reality from fantasy.

The majestic moon towered over it all, like an esteemed warden of the night. Its delicate silver sheen mirrored flawlessly upon the still water, ready to pass its judgement to those whose reflection lie.

In the stillness of the night, the wind whispered a lullaby. Its tender touch tickled the leaves off its branches as they floated about and danced to the nature's melodic symphony.

His heart ached as it longed for the same serene ambiance until his eyes locked on a lone leaf that swirled in front of him. Its descent slow and painfully beautiful, like a ballerina pirouetting to its final bow. A scene reminding him of a certain someone.

The leaf, as if reaching its finale connected with the lake in a warm embrace, sending a mesmerizing ripple effect on the once tranquil lake.

How could something insignificant be formidable that it could disrupt the peace?

Tooru let out a bitter chuckle. He knew the feeling all too well as his worries returned like incessant waves. The burden of his own struggles that always weighted heavy on his shoulders receded momentarily as his heart bled for concern on his best friend battling the anguish of losing a loved one.

Although he had his own demons to battle, he knew, hers demanded the forefront. If only he could take upon her burdens for himself.

He let out a sad smile. The distorted reflection on the lake now more alike to his turmoiled thoughts, all hazy and indistinct.

◇Excerpt from Courting Victory◇

Wrote this a while back, but it's still one of my favorites. Surprisingly enough, this chapter was the least amount of time I spent writing compared to the others.

Iwazumi's part is here.

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

5,6,12,30 for the tickle+random questions

Hey Anon! 👋 Thank you for the questions :)

5: Can you think of a fictional character you think would make a good lee?  Can you think of a fictional character you think would make a good ler? 

Oo! This is a good one 🤔

Lee would have to be Peter Parker for sure! Especially Peter 1 ❤️ There's just something so cute that makes me love reading about him getting tickled, especially in adorable ways ❤️ Behind him, is Merlin from the TV show! He's too cute as well ❤️

Ler would have to be any character by Oscar Isaac 😫 I'm sorry, but that man is top Ler and it bleeds into his characters too! I think Steven or Marc would be the best representation of what I mean ❤️ Goofy, kind, and respectful :)

6: What’s one topic you could talk about endlessly?

Definitely tickling would be a topic, behind that would be the Titanic or corsets :) they're my other hyper fixations 😅

12: What, in your opinion, is 10/10 fiction? (It could be a TV series, movie, book, game, or anything.)

That would be Keeper of the Lost Cities by Shannon Messanger or the Skyward triology by Brandon Sanderson! 10/10, two of the best series out there👌

30: What, in your opinion, is a 10/10 song?

Oo! This is a tricky one 🤔 Anything by Megan Trainor is high up there, but the ultimate bop would be High Hopes by Panic at the Disco ❤️ I could listen to it on repeat!

[cinnamonroll999]

His Smile

Fandom: Keeper of the Lost Cities

Relationship: Dex Dizznee/Fitz Vacker

Genre: Fluff

Fitz loved everything about Dex, from head to toe. 

He found his short red-blonde curls adorable, he thought his eyes looked like periwinkle saphires with sparkling diamonds in them when light reflected them, he adored his laugh which felt like a song composed by the world's greatest musician. His uneven nails, the wrinkles that could always be found in his tunic, and how he was always fidgeting with gadgets were all so cute and-

Oh, his smile. That god damn  smile. 

He had heard that when you loved someone, you would think their smile is cute and amazing. But, gosh, he didn't think it'd make him this giddy.

Fitz could stare at that smile forever and he wouldn't even realize it. That smile made his heart do a gymnastics routine and his brain went fuzzy thinking about how could someone's smile be so lovely and make his mood so bright.

The way his whole face went red, the dimples on his cheeks, the twinkle in his eyes and just how blissful and truly happy he looked, it gave Fitz tickles in his chest. It made him want to always make him smile and never let that smile go.

He knew just how cheesy and smitten he'd sound if he said something like this to someone, how they'd just roll their eyes and say he's fallen bad. And he has, which is why he can say that Dex's smile is the most precious thing in the world to him.

It is what makes Fitz wipe away his tears when he cries, to squeeze his hand when he's scared, to hold his arm back when he is angry. All so he can make way for another smile to greet him. 

He wants Dex beaming for the rest of his life, to wake up each morning to it and sleep each night knowing that Dex was happy and content.

*     *     *

Dex thinks there is nothing in this world better than Fitz. With those bright aquamarine eyes and that beautiful ruffled, uneven yet endearing hair, how could he not? He was practically begging Dex to fall in love with him!

So Dex did. He started noticing his red ears when he's embarrassed, how he runs a hand through his hair when he's stressed, the gleam in his eyes when he gets another compliment, his harmonious and soft humming when he's working. Dex saw every little thing Fitz did. It didn't matter until he started staring at him, found himself particularly liking his cape and his laugh and his eyes and his smile. 

That cheeky smile with shining white teeth and perfection beyond belief. He could get lost in that smile forever.

And he knew, no matter how much he denied it, he wanted to see that smile on Fitz's face every day.

[vazaymir]

5. a  lying  kiss.

The evening sun quickly fled beyond the jagged range of mountains carving the horizon. Cool light eagerly took its place, bathing the land below as the moon gradually ascended towards its fleeting throne. The subtle chill of the northern reaches of Aldenard gently washed over the huntress’ flesh, but with every return the Keeper grew more accustomed to the cooler climate. She quickly developed a fondness for the colorful canopies blooming over parts of the Forelands, even if their presence was much sparser than the leafy ceiling sheltering much of her homeland.

Vaza had lost count of how many times the pair had ventured together. What began as a business deal among strangers had grown to… something else; not that either of the women were exactly keen to put such a shift into any sort words.

Instead, the changes were much more subtle. An extra clandestine visit to Ishgard between shipments, a surprise presence back in the Keeper’s little oasis, a hidden gift nestled among the carefully packaged herbs and reagents arriving steadily at the Baroness’ door. The Xaela managed to linger among her subconscious, often urging the huntress to pry Miahka away from the duties and responsibilities binding her whenever the opportunity arose; even at times when Vaza was less concerned about the funds for her travels.

Today was no different. Although the apothecary’s stores were sufficiently stocked, Vaza had managed to tear the Baroness away from the icy grip of that snow laden city. Having concluded their travels for the day, the pair went about pulling out supplies and Vaza busied herself unpacking the tent she’d brought along with them. The nearby burble of the river lulled her thoughts, although a shift in the breeze tickled her senses with a more worrisome aroma.

Suddenly a roar ripped through the air, the beast lunging towards Miahka from its hiding place around the tree. Not even wasting a breath, the huntress was already sprinting for her daggers. Unfortunately, her steps were just moments too late, the Xaela’s yelp rattling against Vaza’s ears as a growl echoed from her throat. Hurling onto the beast’s back, sharpened blades thrusted into the sides of its neck before it could take another opportunity to attack her fallen companion. Its whine was short lived as the daggers were wrenched free, its weight crumbling into the grass just before Miahka’s collapsed form.

Vaza moved instantaneously, leaping down to the Baroness’ side with urgency in her glaring molten hues. Quickly glancing over the woman’s figure, she was pleased to discover her companion’s only injury were gashes of claws across the top of her thigh. Although muttering irritated expletives, one glance at Vaza’s face had that usual smirk blossoming across Miahka’s lips. “Be careful Vaza. You look worried,” the Baroness purred, although her hand was already moving to rest over her injury.

A scoff broke past the huntress lips, ear twitching to the words as a sigh of breath helped regain that careful composure. “Losing my employer sounds bad for business,” the Keeper grumbled, the tingle of aether so close causing the fur of her tail to stand on end. Nevertheless she’d lean in, dark tiers pressing against the Xaela’s forehead. There she'd linger a few moments longer, giving time for the rush in her veins to calm before her posture straightened.

The irony would go unmentioned, and although Miahka’s magics were more than enough to care for her wound, strong arms slipped around her dainty figure, pulling her companion against her chest in a bridal fashion once Vaza pushed up to her feet.

A fang-bearing grin was flashed down to the smaller woman. “And we just couldn’t have that, now could we?”

@sirenofdusk

[daminettes]

Coming Home (1) - Hunger Games AU

hey guys! francine and i (aka @fsketchart) decided to collab for @april-angst-apocalypse!!! we kinda snapped doe

she wrote marinette’s pov while i wrote adrien’s pov, and we both wrote damians. i hope you guys like it!

It's the annual 100th Hunger Games.  As per every twenty-five years, they will be doing a special reaping.  This year, two families per District are chosen to sacrifice a child from each family to fight to the death in the arena.  After training for years, Damian is prepared to fight.  But is Marinette prepared?  Will Damian choose to save himself?  Will either of them come home to their families?  Afterall, there can only be one winner in the death match.

WARNING : Hunger games includes murder, we don't condone it & we don't write it in detail. However, if it can still be triggering for you this is not the best fic for you.  No shame if you're uncomfortable with it!  You take care of you and your needs first!  The hunger games has 24 children from ages 12-18 tossed into an arena, and are forced to battle with only one tribute allowed to keep their life.  If you're not comfortable, we hope you find an AU that better suites your tastes! 

 WARNING 2 : If a character is killed off, it's to highlight that everyone that was killed in the hunger games (as there can only be one winner) was killed off NOT because we "hate" the character, but because we felt like it would be more important to remember that the people killed were not faceless characters.  There were good people killed off, the hunger games doesn't ever really have a true victor.  Everyone loses someone or something in the end.  So if a character you like is killed off by someone else it's because we didn't want characters to kill off faceless people.  We don't want anyone to forget that the people who are killed were real people with families.

Marinette stepped down the wooden steps, slowly as they creaked.  Her mother and father were there, gathering their belongings.

“Come on, grab your things, we need to leave within the hour,” her father spoke.  Sabine blew out the candles, leaving only the natural light through the windows as their source of light.  Tom flipped the sign outside to closed, as he put on his worn jacket.  Marinette adjusted her braid, jumping when Sabine walked behind her and adjusted the ribbons.  Sabine tied a red ribbon in her hair with tears threatening to spill.  Sabine, silently held her daughter’s face in her hands, staring into her eyes, as she kissed her nose and walked away to the door.  Marinette followed her mother and father to the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

As they walked in the streets, no child raced ahead of their parents.  No child was jumping with joy.  They gripped their parent’s hands tightly, as they all stepped into the streets, making their way step by step to the center of the city.  Everyone was silent in the entire town, everyone scared.  The only sound heard was the tip taps of the shoes in the streets.  Everyone was heading in one single direction.

Many wore designer clothing, perfect colors, perfect hair, perfect shapes.  They were expected to be above perfection, nothing else was allowed.  Most people in their town were clothing makers.

This was, of course, was expected of District 8.  District 8, the textiles and fashion district.  Marinette’s family was one of the few who did a different profession, baking.  The Capitol expected nearly every family to deliver the finest quality of luxury clothing for them to wear.  No one dared rebel against the Capitol’s orders, not after the previous rebellion, where the Capitol wiped out the 13th District, who created nuclear weapons.  Each district was assigned a different task, each one was a slave to the Capitol’s wishes.  Marinette shudders at the thought.  So many were left dead from that fight, no children were spared.

Marinette gripped her father’s hand.  This year was the 100th annual hunger games.  Normally, each year they held the hunger games, where ages 12-18 would compete in the hunger games in bloodshed.  Two tributes, one male and female, of each District, would have their name reaped from a bowl and forced to compete in a death battle for the Capitol’s entertainment.  Another reminder that the Capitol controlled every aspect of their lives.  The Hunger Games only ended when one tribute was chosen.  Some people put their names’ in multiple times in exchange for food.  Other Districts like District One or Two, the wealthiest Districts, would volunteer to be part of the Hunger Games, believing that joining in the blood battle would be a high honor.  Marinette shook her head at the thought, before facing forwards once more.

Ahead of her, she saw Adrien.  He was walking with his father, with bags under his eyes.  Marinette couldn’t blame him, he lost many important family in the Hunger Games.  Marinette has lost many people close to her in the Hunger Games as well.  She walked over to him and took his hand, nodding assuringly.  Adrien refused to make eye contact, as his father pulled him closer to him.

Marinette remembered when they first met.  Marinette was doodling the people passing by the bakery.  She saw a beautiful boy with bright green eyes.  She immediately began drawing him, paying close attention to his eyes.  She could remember those eyes so clearly, and furiously drew on the paper, no longer bothering to look up at her reference.  She was so caught up in her sketching she didn’t even notice when said boy walked inside the bakery.  She finally noticed when he appeared over her shoulder, absolutely flattered by her work.  His green eyes lit up as he started posing, asking her to draw more.  He spent the entire afternoon at the bakery that day.

When they finally turned seven, her parents let them play in her backyard without supervision, as long as they remained there.  They would lie on their backs, with the grass tickling their toes.  They could smell the fresh air outside, the sounds of birds chirping and the grass blowing from the wind.  The sun hit their faces so brightly, as they stared at the skies.  They would spend hours, cloud watching.  Marinette adored the boy with green eyes and vowed to remain by his side.

Marinette and Adrien were cloud watching once more when they were ten, when Marinette noticed a small, tiny cloud out of the corner of her eye.  She smiled at the little heart-shaped cloud and tugged on Adrien’s jacket to show him.  When she looked at him though, his eyes were elsewhere.  She followed his line of sight, to see a beautiful girl standing near the fence of the backyard.  She was drying clothing outside, the breeze carrying her midnight hair behind her.  Each of her steps were elegant and graceful.  Each step was with purpose.  Never once did she trip or fall.  With perfect posture, she carried on her day.  When she looked over and noticed Adrien staring at her, she smiled softly and shook her head while chuckling.

Adrien quickly became fascinated with the girl with green eyes that could rival his own.  He tried to get to know her, and each day, he would come over to Marinette’s house, talking all about the girl with green eyes.  Marinette would just smile, and listen, chiming in here and there.

She never held it against him and moved on after a long time.  She tried her best to support him as his sister and began distancing herself from him.  But she always made sure to be there for him when he needed her.

As they neared the center of the city, Marinette braced herself.  Up ahead, she could already see the Peace Keepers up ahead.  The Capitol Peace Keepers were threatening District Citizens, ordering them to file in place, as the escort and advisor for District 8 stood at the podium.  They fired off warning shots at their feet as the children screamed.  Ivy who was selected as the coach for District 8, adjusted her hair as she stared at District 8’s citizens with disgust.  She ruffled her hair and touched up her makeup, with bright colors in her outfit.  It highly contrasted the outfits of District 8, who were all cloaked in dark colors, in hopes of blending in with the crowd.

Marinette followed her parents in line, blending in with the other terrified children, as the reaping began.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Adrien, wake up.”  A voice came that followed with a knock from behind his door. “We are leaving in an hour, get ready and go down to eat breakfast.”

“M-Coming Father,” Adrien muttered while struggling to get himself to wake up.

It's The Reaping Adrien thought to himself.  He dreaded this day.  Of course, his father refused to let him volunteer for the Hunger Games, not after what happened to his mother, but still, there was something that scared Adrien today.  It was his first time being eligible for the Hunger Games.  Just a short few months ago, he turned 12.  Now he could very well be walking to his death.  The chances of being picked were slim, but there was still a chance.

Adrien sighed and pushed the dark thoughts that came to his mind away and got out of his warm soft bed.  Light shined through his large window as he walked across his large empty room.  He slowly walked towards the closet and picked out his outfit for the day.  He reached into his closet and grabbed out the suit Natalie had left for him.  His father would never let him leave the house without looking up to standard.  He carried them with him as he made his way into the shower, and let the warm water try to calm his thoughts.

Adrien stood in the shower for about ten minutes before actually washing himself off. He just stood there and thought about how much his day could change him.  His tears blended in with the water, as he pleaded to whatever god that may be out there.  Please don’t let him end as his mother did.  He was still young when she died, but he could still remember fragments of that day.  His mother was pregnant at a young age with his father, and they were planning a beautiful wedding.  Everyone was supposed to be there, his friends, his neighbors, even the Dupain-Chengs.  But then came the reaping.  Almost no one thought Emilie would get picked.  Almost every year the lower class was selected, the rich seemed untouchable.  No one could fathom the idea of Emilie being chosen.  And yet she was.  And not a single person volunteered to take her place.  And so Emilie fought, and died in the Arena, after having just given birth to Adrien in the arena.  Gabriel was sobbing as he locked himself in his home, a home that was meant for a family.  Adrien, although young, remembered rewatching the hunger games on his father’s computer, and standing horror.  Watching that old video was one of Adrien’’s greatest regrets.  He knew some of the people in that arena from business deals, and he saw how they quickly turned into murdering monsters.  He turned off the warm water and was hit with a cold breeze, he quickly shivered and threw on his towel as quickly as he could. He made his way to his room, got changed, and headed downstairs.

Adrien quickly made his way down to the dining room and quietly sat himself down into his seat.

“Good morning, father,” Adrien spoke quietly, while shoving a piece of toast into his mouth and taking a sip of his tea.

“Good morning, Adrien.  Slow down we don’t want you choking.  Agrestes are not slobs.”

“Apologies, father...”

After the short conversation, they both settled in awkward silence, Adrien slowly eating his toast while Gabriel read a book that Emilie used to enjoy.  After finishing his toast and tea he beckoned Natalie forth to bring his dirty dishes to the washing machine.  Adrien cleared his throat, before looking at his father.  Gabriel turned to him with tired eyes.

“Father...if you don't mind...before we leave may I take a few minutes to visit mother's statue in the garden?”

Gabriel paused for a long time, as he stared at the table.  Natalie put a hand on his shoulder, and Gabriel looked up at Adrien.

“Alright, but make it quick.  We need to make it to the center in time for your reaping.”

“Thank you, father!” Adrien said while running towards the gardens.

As he made his way towards the garden he was hit with the pleasant smell of roses and daisies. His mother's favorite.

He slowly made his way towards the statue and plopped himself down.

“Hello, mother.  I miss you, like a lot…  Please give me your strength to get through this.  I hope you miss us too.  I love you,”  Adrien heard Natalie call his name.  “I'll see you soon, mother,” Adrien spoke while standing up and brushing away any leftover dirt from his pants.

Adrien and his father made their way to the center, with Natalie and the Gorilla following close behind them.

They walked in silence with the other hundreds of families.  Suddenly, Adrien felt something grip his hand.  It was soft and warm, as he looked down to see Marinette.  Adrien felt his father pull him closer to him.  Marinette dropped his hand and gave him a small, forced smile.  Adrien returned the smile before she walked off.

Gabriel turned to Adrien, softly speaking.  “Adrien, no matter what happens today.  I will always love you.”

Adrien was surprised, before hugging his father.  “I love you too, father.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian sighed while looking up at the ceiling in his room. It was 6:30 in the morning and he had no idea how this day would go. Just a measly two years ago he would’ve been excited, almost grateful for this day to come.  Yet now, after meeting his father, he dreaded this day.  He let another sigh escape him while he pushed himself away from his bed.

Training with Talia was hard. Extremely hard. Damian would spend multiple days with non-stop training for these games.  Talia told him that to compete in the games?  It would be an honor.  Many people in his District, District 1 of luxury goods, would pray to get chosen.  He should be prepared. He is prepared. But he doesn't want to be prepared.  Because after meeting his father, he realized how bitter it would be to die in those games, to turn into a monster in those games.  He’s seen what the arena has done to Talia and his grandfather.  He never wishes to become them.  Two years ago, Damian would’ve volunteered for the hunger games.  But now?  He will do anything to avoid them.  He is the last child in the Wayne family to be eligible for the games, with Tim turning 18 just a few months ago.  Damian was determined to stay with his new family, but that doesn’t mean the fear doesn’t go away.

Bruce knocked on the door to his room.  Damian called for him to enter.  Sitting down, Bruce sighed.  They sat in silence, neither sure what to say.  Bruce starts.

“Damian, I want you to know, this has never been easy for me.  It’s never easy for anyone.  And I know that this will be your first year entering into the Hunger Games.  It’s been hard, with several children.  It hurt me, even more, when Jason was chosen one year, and when no one volunteered to take his place.  But I promise you this, should you ever get chosen, I will make every deal, pay off any price, do anything it takes to make sure you don’t go in those arenas.  I will do anything to make sure you come home safely.”  Damian stared at Bruce, with nothing to say.  “I promise,” Bruce spoke, holding out his pinky.

“Father, what are you doing?”

“Your grandmother used to make pinky promises with me when I was much younger.  A pinky promise is never broken, Damian.  I promise you, you will come home safely to us.”  Damian nodded, and looped his finger with his fathers’.

Soon, Alfred called to them to begin the journey to the center of the city.  Everyone began dressing in their finest jackets, as they made their way to the door.

Damian sighed, leaving the entrance of his house. His brain was telling him not to move. To stay there. But his feet moved on his own, following his family .

“Hey, it’s okay, baby bird.  Don’t worry about it. You won't get picked.” Jason said ruffling his hair.

“He's right, Damian,” Tim chimed in.

“Hey, and even if you were picked, there’s a lot of children who want to fight in the Hunger Games, someone is bound to volunteer!” Dick included.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” he spoke while lowering his head to try to prevent the tears from shedding.

“Don't worry Damian. We’ll protect you,” Bruce said while kneeling down to his level. “Don't worry. We promised to, remember?” He said while showing him his pinkie. “And we don’t break promises.”

Damian nodded.  Instead, he avoided eye contact.  “I understand, father.”

“Now let's go!” Jason cheered.

They all started to walk ahead leaving Damian behind.  Damian took a deep breath, as he quickly sped up his pace to catch up with them.

Soon enough, they were reaching the center.  They could hear the warning shots ringing out from the center of the District.  It was time to start The Reaping.

[herocarved-a]

It feels like the last manner of months has been a whirlwind of emotion - perhaps because it has. There have been ups & downs, confusion & heartache, days where time loses all meaning or trickles to a near-stop slowness; but now, he thinks, it was all worth it. It's a quiet sort of tranquility, bedsheets reaching up & down various parts of them both - but there's nothing like the calm that comes to him at the sound of familiar warm breath tickling his cheeks, chocolate strands so close to his face they threaten to occasionally tickle. The curtains have been drawn since the night before, if only to keep out his love's mother's ire, but the small streams of sunlight seeping in through the gaps fan beautifully upon sora's face, highlighting his freckles, the warmth of his skin, the calmness of his features. It almost hurts, how Riku's heart thrums so hard in his chest at getting to have these moments back. He's subtle, quiet, in how he shifts oh-so-slightly to press a kiss to his love's crown. He wouldn't have this taken from him again, by another god or otherwise. "I love you."      -----      @dawnled​ 

it comes so naturally , even in the unconsciousness of sleep , to curl up tight against the winter warmth of his beloved ; where others might feel the tickling discomfort of frost at the press of skin from the lord of death && winter , the springtime god feels only devotion , a reverent sort of love that transcends the forgotten worship of the past . fingers curl possessively into the soft folds of his sleep shirt && even in sleep , his face tilts towards his love , his breath brushes a shimmer of uncontainable magic against the one he calls his own , his own adoration forever embroidered into his actions , conscious or not .

the simple band of a precious black metal glitters in the mellow sunlight , as if it , too , enjoys the reprieve from the eternal rain this city of riku’s domain has been cursed with ; the elegance marked upon his hip almost seems to pulse in time with riku’s heartbeat . it’s painfully obvious how he’s been claimed by the elder god , the one who gives sanctuary to the dead && shepherds them towards sora , the keeper of rebirth . && , oh , how comfortably the little god of spring sleeps in those arms of his beloved ; where others see a cage , sora sees sanctuary && where others see malevolence , sora sees compassion .

&& maybe he would have slept the whole morning away , had riku not chosen to shift in the bed at that exact moment sora’s mind starts to surface from the cloud of dreams ---   instead , his freckled nose crinkles && there’s a muted noise of protest heavy in his throat as he feels those arms tighten around him && the sure press of lips against chocolate && caramel .

“ love you . . .   too . ”

sora yawns so sleepily before burying himself further against his best friend , his husband , his soulmate ; he presses his nose into the curve of riku’s neck , && clings all the more to the gentle warmth of his body . && there’s maybe something just a little desperate in the way he clings to his beloved ; cloying memories of oppressive jealousy , of desperation && sadness && feelings of inadequacies fuel his half-asleep actions , as if he’s still terrified of returning to those days of lost memories && distrust of the only one that could break his mother’s curse . 

but that’s impossible ; with their union comes the joining of their domains ---   the bands on their fingers have become a ward against the machinations of his mother . even the rain seems wary to fall so frequently upon the city , as if it knows that the little god of spring resides there now && forever .

sleep tugs at sora’s consciousness , but still , he nuzzles almost childishly against riku && still , he presses languid kisses against his exposed neck , huffing faint chimes of laughter when he so carelessly nips at the tender flesh , so much like a kitten playing in the moments before he returns to sleep .

“ five more minutes , mmkay ? ”

&& then the god that ushers in new life , gives new chances to even the most defiled of souls , settles back into the cloud from which riku initially pulled him from with a long sigh . he no longer remembers the days he slept on the cold streets of riku’s city , those days before they met && he only knew of his soulmate in the vague shapes in his murals , shapes of a man shrouded by leather jackets , worn jeans && hoods . he only knows the safety of the exiled king ---   && while the world fears the wrath of the grim reaper , the pettiness of spring , forever dancing between the chill of winter && the heat of summer , should be no less feared if he’s ever taken from these arms he loves so very , very much . 

[wholesome-lee-trash]

Fandom: Keeper of the Lost Cities (KOTLC)

Word Count: 258

Characters: Lee!Fitz, Ler!Keefe, it's implied they switch at the end

Ships: platonic or romantic Fitz x Keefe

Warnings: tickles, tell me if I need to add more!

A/N: I'm not apologizing anymore, you get what you get

Overworked

Fitz and Keefe, best friends forever.

"Keefe!"

"What?" Keefe asks innocently, as if the golden haired boy's fingers aren't nimbly skittering across the other's torso.

"Stop!"

"Mm... no."

"Keefe!" Fitz was trying desperately to hold in his laughter. He had an ability now, he couldn't be seen laughing from something so childish as tickling.

"What?" Keefe smirks smugly. He knew what he was doing when he dug his thumbs in right above his hip bones.

"Plehehease!"

"Please, what?" Fitz didn't seem to know how to respond to this. He grabbed onto Keefe's wrists, shoving as hard as he could. Which, wasn't very hard, as the tickling was weakening him.

"Keefe! Ihihit!"

"It tickles? Yeah. That's the point, Fitz."

"Stohohop!"

"But you've been so serious lately!" It was true. Ever since he got his ability, it seemed Fitz just wouldn't stop working. He wouldn't just take a break. Keefe decided to dig his fingers into the boy's armpits.

"Nohohoahaha! Keefe! Stahahap!"

"Not until you promise to take a break!"

"Plehehehease!"

"Promise." Fitz arches his back, letting out a squeal as Keefe finds the sensitive spot right between his top rib and his armpit.

"I prohohomise! Keheheefe! I yield, Ihihi yield!" Keefe stopped his fingers, looking at Fitz.

"It's not healthy to not take breaks." The brown haired elf glares at Keefe.

"You know what else isn't healthy?" Keefe tilts his head.

"What?" Fitz quickly tackles Keefe to the ground, straddling his waist and pinning his hands.

"Tickling your best friend when you know you can't handle being tickled back."

[ravennmad]

raven’s finish-my-fic #2

fandom: keeper of the lost cities

characters: sophie foster

pairings: sokeefe (not explicitly romantic)

word count (initial): 346 (it’s a short one)

warnings: mentions of weight loss, playful fighting with knitting needles

a/n: have fun :D

“He’s here,” called Edaline, and Sophie ran down the stairs.

Keefe looked… tired. The circles under his eyes were especially dark today, and his normally artistically styled hair was flopping in his eyes, blond locks lank from days-old product. 

But it was still so, so good to see him.

He gave a crooked smile and Sophie tackle-hugged him, nearly knocking the poor boy to the ground outside. Was she imagining things, or was he a little frailer than he used to be?

She looked up at him, and he seemed to brace himself for her comment.

“Have-- have you lost weight?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, which was not answering her question. She wrinkled her nose at him and he laughed. “Geez, Foster, you don’t have to get all sulky on me! I’m fine. Great, actually.”

Sophie decided to let it slide. She led him up the stairs to her bedroom, and he plopped himself on the bed, lying down and stretching. She sat down next to him and he set his head in her lap, staring up at her with those icy-blue eyes. She tilted her head, smiling, and he started talking. 

“Did you know, Foster, Biana’s been trying to get me and Bangs Boy to be friends? I swear that girl will never stop. How am I supposed to befriend Sir. Oh-look-I’m-sulky-and-my-sister-is-the-only-one-I-like?”

Sophie laughed. “She’s just trying to help. You can’t really hate him that much!”

He let out a puff of air, sliding down off the bed. “I don’t hate him, but I can’t suddenly be friends with him! A Daddy-Issues Club would be laaaaaame.” His attention was caught by a ball of yarn with knitting needles stuck through it on her floor. He crawled over to it, took out a needle, and started poking at Sophie with it. 

“Hey!” she cried, leaning away to avoid his assault. 

She had an idea and in retaliation, jumped off the bed and started tickling Keefe’s sides.

He shrieked, whether from laughter of fear Sophie couldn’t say, dropped the needles, and thus the tickle war had begun. 

[sliptohk]

Prompt #25: Wish

The rhythmic sloshing of long paddles cutting through the water soothed the sailor, a familiar interplay of muscle with each stroke and the clack of wood as they rose from the water to circle forward for another pull back toward her. A comfortable breeze tickled across her face, the tropic heat sending thing rivulets of sweat down her skin as she worked at it rather than opening the sail for a more leisurely approach to that small island escape only one other living soul knew of. And considering she was comfortably seated on the far end of that small vessel, a large umbrella set up to help the Keeper doze comfortably in the shade, there was little concern of an unwanted interruption.

Speaking quietly in her rasping voice, Tohk murmured to the dozing miqo'te, "Soon 'nuff, love."

Once it had served a different purpose. A hideaway for the Dancer's crew to hide plunder they were not yet ready to sell. A collection of small wooden huts built among the swaying trees for the crew to eat, drink, and run wild without fear of ambush for a night or two before sailing back to Limsa Lominsa or off in pursuit of some fat prey to run down. It had fresh water bubbling up from some deep source underground, warm near to the point of unpleasantness, but Tohk had never been much for drinking it in the first place. No game, save some wild birds that nested among the fruit bearing branches, but more than ample supplies of fish if one had the patience to catch them.

The first time the Seeker had brought RC to the island felt a lifetime ago. Newly married, freshly wounded from a brutal battle, and wanting nothing more than to carve out time for themselves amidst the tropical paradise. Saving the best made structure for them, the sailor had gone out and flattened the rest as none of those long-lost inhabitants would ever return to claim one for an evening. A superstitious part of her wondered if that action was what prompted the violent squall that dropped the remaining hut down upon the two of them while they stayed warm beneath a tarpaulin cover.

A brief visit turned into a longer one, but at the very least the two had brought more than enough rum to see them through the days until Tohk had repaired their boat well enough to return to the city once more. It drew that ghost of a smirk to her face at the thought. Rebuilding that hut stronger than before with a design far better suited to the two of them. Her embarrassing flailing in the shallows as her Jet taught her how to do more than simply thrash wildly in deeper waters. A larger part of her than she had expected had come to think that perhaps not finding ample supplies to make that tub seaworthy again would be fine.

At least not until their booze ran thin.

As the prow of the ship raised, grinding up against the soft white sands of the island, the Seeker leapt from side to grip the front and drag it the rest of the way up onto the beach in search of place to tie it down proper. They had brought far more supplies than that first visit, more than enough to see them through quite some time if her knots proved a touch clumsier and looser than normal. She stopped short of hoping for that storm to return as she gently lifted the sleeper from her nest of blankets to carry carefully up to what could finally be rightfully called a cabin.

Laying her out on the soft bed of woven saplings and feather stuffed cushions, she made to move back to the water to begin unloading the rest of their provisions before the firm grip of calloused fingers gripped her wrist.

"Where are ya gettin' off to, Ace?"

Tohk made no effort to resist the insistent tug down beside her, work could wait a bell or two. "Plenny 'appy righ' 'ere."

[macybeckham7]

You and Trent are both competitive and are both extremely good at FIFA , and are playing a game but Trent wins last minute.The reader is now silky and sad that she lost and Trent makes her happy by cuddling her in the couch and kisses all over her face.Pwease 🥺

The two of you were just as bad as eachother, neither of you like losing and youd even chest just so you didn’t have to take the L. You both were badly competitive that whoever lost was such a bad loser that they sulked while the other rubbed it in their face.

It was a Sunday morning and you both were up before everyone else, so you decided to pass the time with an innocent game of Fifa. He chose Liverpool while you chose Man City. You both sat opposite ends of the sofa as Trent mumbles that you cheated last time you played, you were the first to score with Raheem making you pull a face at him.

By the 80th minute and a lot of swearing at the tv you were both level with 2-2. He was on an attack, the closer he got he stood up and got closer to the TV. Then Walker slide in and took Robbo out, he shouted VAR as you watched as your player got sent off. You both kept your controllers close to your chest as he went for a penalty kick.

You managed to get your keeper the right way but it still managed to slip into the back of the net. You watched as they celebrated as Trent went all jammy, you told him to sit down, but as soon as the game restarted the game finished, making you swear as you dropped the controller and laid down on the sofa with your hood up.

‘Aw love, when will you ever learn that you can’t win a game of Fifa against me’ he smirked

He giggled as he saw your death stare at you, he crawled over to you and cuddled into you, you snuggled into him and placed your head on his shoulder.

He started to tickle your side making you groan as you wriggled away, he then left small kisses all over your face making him giggle at how badly you were taking this lose. After a few minutes you were squirming away from him as you laughed. Soon enough the game was a distance memory as you hugged eachother.

[im-keefe-now]

Some things I’ve thought about while reading keeper again

- Sophie first description of light leaping was being tickled from the inside out and are we not gonna talk about how uncomfortable that sounds?

- Whos Tribunal was taking place when Fitz and Sophie visited?

- Would no one have recognized Fitz “Wonderboy” Vacker just because he was wearing human clothes?

- Fitz asked Sophie not to tell anyone that he took her to his city but who was she gonna tell? Her 0 friends?

- If Fitz didnt think Sophie was “the girl” why did he already know where she lived and what school she went to?

- When being drowned by the Keebler Elves, why didn’t Sophie just pull a power move and drink all the fudge?

- If the dog didn’t trust the jogger, Sophie shouldnt have either!

- Where did Gethen even get a dog? Did he steal it? No wonder it hates him.

- The elves knew about slavery and the world wars and they never thought “huh, maybe humans need some help in not destroying the planet”? — In addition, elves are completely against servants and they (most likely because how could they not) knew about slavery and they still didn’t think it was bad enough to intervene?

- If a student didn’t make it into Foxfire, they were just going to send them to Exilium?? A small, tiny 11 year old at Exilium practically dying from all that difficult stuff?

- If Kenric is built like a football player with red hair, hes practically Archie Andrews. Maybe he even knows the epic highs and lows, the triumphs and defeats of high school football.

- Out of Kenric and Oralie, Bronte is the smallest. Can you imagine those two being like 6 feet tall and then there’s Bronte like 5’4.

- My heart when Kenric and Oralie do subtle romancey things: 💖💗💘💓💝💞💖💕💓

- Where are our bottom-of-the-leg pockets? And our big-enough-for-a-pathfinder pockets?

- Since Atlantis is underwater and surrounded by that bubble thing, at the edge of the city, would you be able to see the ocean life from the other side?

- Before elves left the humans would they have been able to get married? Would the elf just move on when their human spouse died? If they had a a kid would it be an elf or human or helf?

- When will we get our long awaited Tiergan art?

- What happened to the parents of the adults? I would love to see Edalines parents meeting Sophie or something.

- Sophie is literally so strong. Imagine being able to live with the fact that you’re family doesn’t remember you.

- I’m not saying I disagree but why did the council originally deny the Vackers request to have Sophie stay with them?

- Is there like a hospital? Or a place besides foxfire that has doctors?

- How did Biana and Fitz get along so well? My brother shot me in the face with a BB gun when I was like 9.

- How old is Elwin?

- How big are the Lost Cities? Like a small country size? A big country size? They only have one school.

- When an elf dies what happens to their registry pendant?

- JENSI!!!!

- You’re telling me Fitz Vacker looked him in the eye and really believed that the Dizznees hated him enough to name him Deck???

- Having a whole room to yourself for changing in school actually sounds wonderful.

- Why is it that basically every talent Sophie has is rare?

- Technically (even though she wouldn’t need it) Sophie would hear all her human teachers thoughts about tests so technically that was cheating in a way, right?

- Imagine having to live all of eternity knowing you tried to stop someone’s wedding and they literally don’t care about you...

- Didn’t Keefe day he was ditching class because Lady Belva “had some weird crush on him”? And then during the ballroom dancing, she took him as a partner before he could pair up with Sophie?

- What would Valin even have been in detention for? Drooling on his homework?

- Someone (can’t remember if it was the Instagram fandom or tumblr fandom—sorry) pointed out that it might have been tiergan putting something in Sophie locker when they bumped into each other and rereading it, that makes a lot of sense.

- Frick you, Alvar.

- Stop bullying your mothers ability, Dex.

- So if Forkle never triggered her ability, Marella would be Talentless and end up going through a lot more, right? That’s still stupid.

- How did Sophie go to the Forbidden cities with Tiergan and no one noticed?

- Imagine how upset poor Dex was when he accidentally gave Sophie limbuim :(

- Not to be Fitzphie or anything but like what if Sophie and Fitz got married and had kids or something and had to explain to their kids that Sophie once threw up on him?

- What did Alden need when he came pounding on the door and was like “I NEED YOU!” And Grady was like “I can’t...”?

- If Sophie hadn’t found out about the cancelled adoption, how do you think they’d have told her? That’d probably be like 10x more painful.

- What wouldve happened if a human had saw Gildie when she was getting the sample of everblaze?

- Where were Fitz and Keefe when Sophie bumped into them in the hall after finding out Biana was her friend because of Alden?

- If they had been planning to stage a suicide before Dex showed up, do you think they would’ve left like a suicide note? And how much harder would that have been on Grady, Edaline, Dex, Biana, and Fitz because they probably would’ve all thought it was their fault.

- How did they know Sophie was transmitting when she was a hostage?

- Was there seriously nothing else Forkman could do??

- I still cry everytime I read the scene where Grady and Edaline see Sophie after she gets rescued.

- No offense but they’ve seriously got to stop letting Alden make decisions. First “prentice is guilty” and now “they’re dead lets stop searching”?

- How would their registry pendants even have come off in the ocean and their bodies just leave?

[iamtrashhenceiamhere]

Ghosts live on

It was a common enough legend; every small town had their own and Helsingør was no different. The foreboding abandoned castle didn’t help much either, but it was something for the occasional tourist to take pictures of. The children were told the story as bedtime stories and then in school in the form of Shakespeare. He may have called them a fictional city, but the name “Elsinore” stuck around like a loving nickname for the locals.

No one lived in the castle anymore. Out of respect and fear of what happened to the family of seven who lived there once. The Hansens. A good rich family who moved out when their youngest daughter of ten years nearly died in the forest at the outer parts of the small town. The castle now stands desolate, empty of all except the remnants of that family and the ivy that quickly took over and claimed it. They had an old caretaker whose job was to handle the children but he was let go before they all left when his bad hearing nearly cost the life of the youngest. He still lived near the castle gates and no one had the heart to make him clear off. After all, he only wanted company and the occasional conversation.

This whole incident didn’t help the case for the stories. Of course, the townspeople dismissed the whole “legend” as a simple story meant to keep children from wandering too far from home. The poor family was only an unfortunate coincidence. But everyone had a little fear in their heart

It was a beautiful small forest and a popular place, but you could never spend too long in it. It wasn’t safe was all the explanation people could provide when asked. How could they explain the off- feeling they felt when they went deep in? The urge to just remain in there, walking amongst the woods and trees going off the familiar path and follow the array of flowers that littered the place. people swore these plants seemed to be in bloom even in the harshest of winter. Bright dots of pansies, rue and daisies almost buried under decaying leaves and snow, but sure enough still there.

There was a stream that ran through the forest and led to a pond which looked almost like a picture. Reeds on the sides, little fishes and frogs shining near the surface in the light. It seemed other worldly. There was a large tree fallen tree across the stream near the mouth of the pool. It was almost like a gate keeper, covered in moss, ferns and multiple little critters crawling over the rotting holes created by time. The pond was a lovely place especially during summer but of course, no one stayed there for long. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t see the bottom of the pond. the water was clear but almost a never ending dark blue in the centre. It was safer to just not swim in it. There were stories of dead bodies being thrown in by murderers who will never be caught, people falling in, never to be seen again. Only stories they tried to reassure themselves, but it only strengthened the fear when the youngest Hansen almost drowned in the connected stream.

She lost balance walking across the fallen tree and fell on the stream side. The caretaker was with her and when she didn’t surface, he quickly went after her after. He’d searched frantically for her and found her floating unconscious lightly underwater a little way down. He quickly brought her up.

She recovered of course, but many say she had a chance only because she hadn’t fallen into the pond itself.

There was a family who lived in the castle. They weren’t royal, but Shakespeare took some artistic liberty. The tale of a nephew killing his treacherous uncle to avenge his father, the six haunting deaths in the castle were almost traditional. Almost each province had their own haunted mansion of unusual deaths. But the part of the legend that scared the town most was the fate of Ophelia.

A young woman, still a girl even, driven mad by the unlawful death of her controlling father by the hands of the man who used her like a throw-away doll. Her brother, who, like everyone else, could not look past the simple pretty face put on for the public and see the light of intelligent and awareness.

Ophelia went to the same forest, picking flowers and singing to herself and the trees around her. The trees who didn’t care who she was, didn’t judge or remind her of the rules she must follow to be a proper lady in her short stifling life. They just listened and silently appreciated. They didn’t care for her mad dances, her occasional screams between verses when she saw see the body of her father laid out flashing, the phantom blood still warm against her unstained hands. Her mind quickly pushed it out and she focused on the flowers, still singing to the trees.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,

love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts.

There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue

for you; and here's some for me: we may call it

herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue with

a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you

some violets, but they withered all when my father died…

She sang on and on, stepping daintily on the fallen tree and dancing atop it. Little jumps, turns and small twirls. The damp moss and slick wooden bark making slips almost inevitable, yet she danced on, for once in her restrained life, careless of any consequence. Falling wasn’t even a fear anymore, after all how could she fall when she felt so light? So, when the final slip did happen, she didn’t feel like she was falling. Ophelia was floating. She was free in the water, the coolness of it finally calming her. The clear water looked even clearer around her. Small fish tickling her hands and face as they swam around her. She felt peaceful. But she’d lost her flowers. Well that wasn’t good, she’d worked so hard to collect them! She looked frantically and saw they all were up at the surface, floating as free as she was. She could almost grab them.

Ophelia tried to reach for them, but her heavy dress felt heavier, water soaked up entirely. Now she felt the fall, the heavy drag pulling her and keeping her down. Ophelia tried to push herself back up, from the bottom of the pond. It was a lot deeper than it looked.

She looked around, the then clear water, now quickly growing murky by all the mud she was kicking up. The fish were gone, had enough of their home being disrupted by this outsider. She was alone and she couldn’t see. She tried to kick herself up again, the cool water now did nothing to chill the intense burn in her lungs. Her legs were entangled by hornworts, hardy pond plants that didn’t let go easily. Her large dress floated around her, restricting movement even further. Pulling whatever she could grasp, it eventually became too much effort, and she gasped for air. Instead muddy water flowed through. She was losing conscious quickly, she had to get her flowers, Laertes was waiting for her, she’d picked rosemary especially for him. and Hamlet, oh Hamlet would never receive her rues, they were such lovely ones. He would have loved it…

Ophelia’s body was found by the servants who went searching for her. Large torn pieces of dress fabric were floating alongside a bundle of wild flowers. But when they dove to retrieve her body, the pond bed seemed almost unreachable, going deeper and deeper still. Eventually they had to return with only the remains they found afloat.

There was a family that lived in the castle. But the story of revenge, murder and madness was all part of legend. No one knows really how they all died but it was so long ago. Fear is the hardest thing to kill though and it is said to never go into the forest on the anniversary of Ophelia’s death. They say she still haunted the pond, hoping to drag other souls along with her for company.

Little Clara Hansen was asked by other curious kids as to what happened to her. Most of them weren’t allowed to go into the forest on their own. Their parents explained it was only for rational safety reasons, “You could fall off a tree! Who’d help you if you break your leg in there?”, “Strangers could steal you away.” And the most common one, “You could fall down a hole and we’d never find you.” All ridiculous, the kids declared. Of course, the real reason was because Ophelia wouldn’t let you leave! They all knew the end of the story. If she saw any kids wandering in the forest, she’d keep them with her forever! Ophelia loved to have little children to dance and play with all day and night.

Clara said she didn’t have any particular urge to dance around or sing with anyone in the forest. She didn’t even see any ghosts. Just some walkers on the path and her caretaker alongside her to make sure she doesn’t get lost. Of course, they went off the path when she saw some lovely columbines and wanted to pick some for her father.

The caretaker followed her, listening to her talk about all the different types of plants she’d learnt at school.

“By the way, did you know that bamboo is the fastest growing wood in the world? I can’t remember the number, but it grows loads in a day!” she interrupted to boast of one of the facts she’d learnt.

The kids marvelled for a moment, exchanging further plant facts they had learnt before pushing her to continue.

Clara had reached a small pond area and exclaimed in delight at all the little fishes that swam in the clear blue water and reached to cup one into her hands. She leaned forward and as her hands touched the water, almost all the fishes swam away frantically. She tried to at least catch one but it was almost as if someone had grabbed hold of her and was pulling her gently. She could see her face fully now and it looked…weird. Different. She looked older…? Her hair was a lot longer. It was also black and curly but maybe that was just the water and light being weird. Maybe it had grown, and she just hadn’t noticed. Oh, she could do cool hairstyles now like her older sister Nora did!

Suddenly she was grabbed from behind and pulled back. Completely startled, water went flying from her hands right into caretaker’s face.

“Please be more careful there! You almost fell in!” he said.

She walked around the place as he set up a small blanket for them to sit on when she’d get tired. Clara didn’t go too close to the pond again, but explored the different plants growing. By the end she’d managed to pick many flowers and long leaves to take home as a trophy. The sun was now overhead and a warm stillness set in the area. The caretaker decided to lay down for a while and soon fell asleep on the blanket. Clara had relaxed before, sitting and talking to him. she was all keyed up now to just…do something! Anything was better than just sitting and sleeping around!

Clara spotted the fallen tree laying across the stream. The caretaker had said not to go on it because it wasn’t safe. Something about rotting wood and instability. But she wasn’t that heavy, surely the wood could take her. She imagined the pretty pictures she’d seen where girls in nice dresses swished their feet on water, sitting on moss and mushroom covered trees trunks. They looked like fairies. The water was so cool as well when she’d reached in before. Clara looked back at him. Light snores indicated he was truly asleep and not faking it. Just five minutes and then she’d come back, he wouldn’t even have to know.

She quickly went up the wood and looked at the stream. She could see the bottom, light sand glistened like sea glass. Small water plants danced around. It would just about come up to her chest, she decided and stepped up on the wood.

It had rained the day before, so it was a little damper than she expected but it was so smooth! Having kicked her shoes off before, it felt so weird feeling the moss snaking around her toes, tickling her. Clara grinned and walked until she’d reached the centre and sat down, facing the pond. It looked a lot bigger from here.

“Hello there.” A voice called. Clara turned her head sharply, startled to see there was a woman in the pond, swimming around. She had such lovely thick hair, like the reflection she’d seen before and a kind smile.

“Would you like to swim with me? The water is lovely and cool.”

Clara hesitated. Of course, Nora had told her not to be alone with strangers. She looked back at the caretaker, still fast asleep. She technically wasn’t alone.

“Sorry but I’m not supposed to go into the pond.” She hoped the woman wouldn’t leave because of her. She seemed nice.

The lady laughed and swam up to her. She was able to walk as soon as she reached the shallow ends and sat next to her on the wood. “Alright then, I’ll just join you then.” She looked even prettier but…

“why are you wearing a dress?” Clara asked. It was a beautiful dress even soaking wet and dripped water making the tree trunk even damper. But it wasn’t good for swimming.

The woman shrugged. “I was just walking around and saw the pond. Thought it was good enough for a dip. No one else really swims in here anymore so I suppose its like my personal pool.” She grinned. “Hey, if you want, it can our little pool! Our special pond.”

Clara beamed. A pond! She pictured coming here every afternoon now, sitting and talking with this lady, collecting flowers and maybe even berries in summer! It sounded wonderful, except… “what about Nero?”

The woman snapped up. “who?” she seemed panicked, worried almost. Clara pointed at her caretaker.

“Nero. He takes care of us while Mor and Far go off for business.” Now eager to show off her knowledge, “did you know Nero is a Latin name and it means timekeeper? Its so weird but makes sense I guess cause he’s always looking after us but he’s super strict about time ‘cause we need to go to bed at ten maximum.”

The woman relaxed a little, staring at him sleeping. “I had a friend like that. You know, his name also meant timekeeper. He was a good guy.”

They chatted a little longer about the meaning of names and Clara’s family.

“So you have an older brother? How does he treat you?”

“well, he’s kinda mean ‘cause he hides my toys but then I tell his friends embarrassing things about him and he always turns so red its funny!”

The woman was a quiet for a while. She smiled again, a little sad. “It’s strange, I had a brother too. He was always picking on me, but I knew he loved me. I loved him too. Maybe if things were different.”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Anyway, I’m gonna go back in. You’re welcome to join whenever you wish.” With that she stood up and dived back in. Clara immediately stood up as well and looked for her. It was almost as if she had vanished.

Somehow Nero was still asleep. Poor guy must’ve been tired. Besides a little dip in wouldn’t be too bad right? It wasn’t like she was alone anymore…

The lady suddenly emerged up, splashing water joyfully. Startled, Clara gave a shout and fell backwards into the stream. The cold shocked her for a brief moment she could do nothing but stay still. She could hear distant voices. Squeezing her eyes, she tried to kick herself up. The water wasn’t that deep last she checked, and she did have two swimming lessons. So why was she having such a hard time getting back to the surface? Frantic now, she tried to swim back up but her feet seemed trapped by something.

The plants had wrapped themselves around her. they seemed to be growing and soon were folded around her arms and torso. Clara tried to tear them off but no matter how she tried, they kept growing. Why were there so many, she didn’t see this much before. Clara looked up. The surface looked so far off… where was that log?

The woman appeared in front of her. Relief filled her as Clara reached for her, expecting her to help her untangle this mess. But she just stared. She seemed different…her pretty dress was torn now in places and floated around her. Her skin seemed a pale blue-greenish colour. Her lovely hair diminished in wild knots and plants tangled up in it. she looked…menacing. It almost looked like there were even some holes in her face. Clara restrained from screaming at the sight.

Maybe this was all because she was underwater. An illusion. How long has she been under? She kept pulling plants off her. Where was Nero? He must’ve heard her fall. He’ll get her.

Suddenly the lady appeared beside her. She had a blank face and stared at Clara. Almost as if observing her as she struggled.

Nero awoke with a startle as soon as he heard a loud shout and a splash. He rose to see ripples in the stream which almost stilled immediately. He stared for a second before seeing air bubbles rising.

Shit.

“CLARA!”

Blood was now pounding in her ears and all she could hear was her own heart-beat going insane. Her chest was burning. She’d stopped kicking, her body growing tired from staying upright. She was slowly losing conscious.

No no nonononononononono this can’t be happening. She can’t die yet, not like this! She still had school to go to, her best friend was waiting for her, her brothers and sisters, oh God, her parents, they’d be so angry at Nero even though none of this is even his fault! He’ll be fired and then no one would play games with Andy or listen to Emily when she’s upset, and…and…

The woman has a strange expression, almost guilty. She leaned close to her face, gently cupping her cheek and finally gave a gentle kiss on her forehead. Her lips felt cold and slimy and Clara’s eyes closed as the woman went under.

She sat up coughing up water and looked around. She was sitting on soft grass, the sun still shining as she shielded her eyes. Nero was right there beside her, patting her back to help any remaining water come up. Clara lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her damp face in his shoulder. They sat there as she loudly cried the rest of the water out for around fifteen minutes. He quietly picked her up when she had calmed down to sniffles.

“How about we start to head back now?”

After she nodded vigorously, they began walking back home. Clara dared to look back at the pond again and she could see the woman, standing in the water, watching them leave. She never looked again. And she never went back to the forest.

Of course, a quick explanation was given about the drenched clothes. But she didn’t mention the woman. Clara didn’t know why but she felt if she did, it would… be worse. Make it real. Better to just say she fell in for a brief while until Nero got her out.

Of course, a few weeks later, she told the other kids in the town what really happened. They were the only ones who believed her when she said she thought it was Ophelia.