#like they only put it in my toe but it's still making me REALLY dizzy and i cant fucking understand anyone when they speak

[nexus-nebulae]

don't feel good :(

[literaila]

broom closet

tasm!peter x reader

summary: is a closet a good spot for a makeout sesh?

warnings: i’m not sure what’s wrong with me :))

*

you’re not even sure how you’ve managed to find this small room. how you grabbed peter before he could protest, or any slight qualms you might’ve had could come to mind.

you’re not sure where you are in the building, or what you just knocked over.

but honestly, you don’t really care.

how can you when peters hand is keeping you close, and his breath is keeping you dizzy?

“peter,��� you whisper into him, pushing yourself up. your neck is already aching, but peters hands are very helpful—and needy, grabbing you and keeping you to him.

he won’t allow an inch. he would stop the atoms making up any distance between the two of you if he could. he would break physics just to glue you to him.

but he doesn’t say anything back—doesn’t really need to—only hums into your mouth, his kisses leaving a burning feeling in your belly.

you’re not even sure what you meant to say. you shake your head mindlessly, moving backward into the wall.

your hands are in peters hair, your fingertips brushing his scalp and making him groan.

“this is a terrible idea,” he says, whispering viciously into you. his hands are everywhere, his hands are not enough.

“you say that,” you pull yourself up against the wall, trying to keep pace with him. “like i put any thought into this.”

he smiles against you, tilting his head so you both get a moment to breathe, tiny little gasps like hymns you’ve just written. but almost as soon as he pulls back, his lips are on your jaw, around the side of your cheek to your ear. “so this wasn’t your plan for tonight?”

his breath is hot and you can barely breathe.

“not here,” you say, keeping your eyes plastered shut so you don’t have to look at him and his self satisfied smirk. “not now.”

it’s almost a whine.

“you just happened to know where this broom closet was…” he whispers it and bites at your earlobe.

you push his face away, pulling at his hair again. “you just happened to push me into it…”

“you just had to put your hair up,” he groans and takes it down. his hands are evil as they curl around the back of your neck.

you lean back and breathe, licking your lips. “sorry,” you finally look up at him, your eyes close enough to tease. “i forgot that haphazardly thrown up hair is your weakness.”

“no,” peter shakes his head, his eyes looking from yours to your lips, his breath hot enough to burn. “you’re my weakness.”

you want to make fun of him, but you’re too busy leaning in to bite him again. peter doesn’t mind, only uses one of his hands to keep your back straight, and leans into you.

his kisses are teasing, just subtle hints at what he knows you want. one peck there, and another one to hell.

you’d gladly burn yourself alive if he would kiss you properly.

“peter,” you warn, but he is innocent, and his cheeky mouth just continues to prod.

you push yourself up onto your toes, pulling him down to you, but he doesn’t relent. his hand moves to your chin, helping and killing you. you whine into his pathetic kisses.

“what?” he says, pulling back just so he can pout at you. “did you want something?”

you scowl and push him back, trying to take over this small room, to devour his lips before he gets the chance to notice.

but peter is still smiling.

you almost squeal when he pushes you again, back against the wall so he can prop you up.

“you’re being too loud,” peter scolds, his voice low and smooth, and completely breathless. “someone’s going to wonder what the brooms are getting up to when they’re unsupervised.”

“you’re the lookout,” you tell him, your hands going to his jaw, keeping his eyes on you. “you listen for anyone coming, spider-man.”

peter scoffs and shakes his hand. one of his fingers trails the skin by your lips, tickling and teasing. “do you think any of my senses are working right now?”

he subtly puts the blame on you, but you smile. “let’s test that.”

you press your forehead against his, lips brushing and breath meshing. “touch,” you whisper, kissing him slowly, not a sound coming from either of you.

you are deadly silent, and you let the kids linger until you feel peters eyelashes fluttering against your cheek.

then you pull back, minimally. you tilt your head. “taste,” you kiss him again, deeper and harder, like you want him to fall back and have both of you falling to the ground. but before that can happen, you ask “good?” against him.

you can feel it when he swallows. then nods.

“what else should we test?” your lips move to the corner of his mouth, then his jaw. “sight,” you say, trailing upwards, “sound.” your nose brushes his cheek, while your lips kiss above his eyebrow. “smell.”

but after a moment too long—you lingering and peter breathing harshly against your neck—he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, and pulls your face back down, kissing you hungrily.

if he burns, you burn.

you kiss back, though smiling against him, feeling that familiar ache in your chest. a testimony to how small this broom closet is.

*

[just-jordie-things]

Jordie sometimes I think about Yuta dropping me off after our first date and then after saying bye and closing the door on him the doorbell would ring and as soon as it’s opened he steals a kiss help my brainrot

god LOVE bc he wants to be a gentleman and take it slow but...

as far as first dates go, it might not have been perfect, but neither of you would go home complaining. all night your heart was aflutter- from the way he opened every door for you, pulled your chair out for you, and made sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, you were swooning every time you turned your head.

you'd been crushing on yuuta for some time now, so this didn't come as a surprise to you. it seemed everything he did was charming or endearing. so when he got out of the car to walk you to your door, your heart rate only picked up knowing what would come next.

maybe it was just your crush taking over your brain, but you had a feeling he was a good kisser, and you really, really wanted to put the theory to the test.

"i had a really great time tonight," yuuta would say, and he'd mean every word. his smile would be bashful, his hands would be tucked in his pockets, and he would look radiant basked in the soft yellow of your porch light. "do you... think you'll let me take you out again?"

(you've already made plans for your second date after passing a cute cafe that just opened, but you think it's so cute that he asked you properly that you decide not to tease him for it)

((yet))

"i'd like that very much" you'd say, soft and sweet, your knees weakening by the second as you wait for some sort of signal. a flicker of his eyes to your lips, a lean, anything.

instead, he reaches out to squeeze your hand gently as he bids you goodnight. but just as you're about to get onto the tips of your toes, he's releasing your hand, and stepping off your porch.

for a minute, you stand there and stare at him dumbfounded as he walks back to his car. you don't know if you should feel disappointed or heart-warmed by the lack of kiss.

maybe he didn't kiss on first dates? maybe it wasn't personal? you'd made sure to pop a mint in your mouth after dinner after all- and it burned your tongue when you let it sit too long for nothing?

making your way inside, you tell yourself that there will be other chances- it's not like you absolutely had to have a kiss goodnight to mark the conclusion of a date- a really, really nice date.

but a kiss would've been nice.

you kick off your cute first-date shoes and drop your purse beside them as you move to shrug off your coat. you refuse to let disappointment cloud the rest of an otherwise lovely evening! but you can't help the slight sink of your heart every time you replay it all and come to the end.

on the fourth replay, you've hung up your coat and purse and are just about to tuck your shoes into the closet, when the ring of your doorbell startles you upright.

you answer the door almost embarrassingly fast- even though you were still standing there and there was no reason not to open it right away- but you're frozen still when you see yuuta there.

your surprise is quickly overridden by delight as you smile at him warmly, always so happy to see him, even if it has been five minutes.

was this puppy love? the honeymoon phase?

"yuuta," you greet him sweetly, tilting your head ever so slightly to display your surprise.

you don't have the opportunity to question him or invite him in or anything, because just as soon as his name falls from your lips, he's wrapping his hands around your waist and his lips are on hers and he's kissing her-

oh, he's kissing you.

the shock melts away into something more pleasant... something soft and warm and so consuming that you have to brace your hands against his collarbone to make sure you didn't get too dizzy.

it was the perfect first kiss, even with the delay. he kisses you the same way he compliments you, softly and surely, and yet again you find yourself swooning. yuuta was a charmer through and through.

it's not a long kiss by any means, but when you part, you have to gasp for air, eyes fluttering wide open with unadultered excitement, only to find yuuta already smiling down at you. his face is flushed, his tongue darts over his bottom lip to savor the hint cherry vanilla just a moment longer, and you almost dared to lean up and steal another kiss.

"couldn't leave without it, huh?" you can't help but tease this time.

yuuta chuckles, you had no idea.

"didn't even make it out of the driveway" ___

yuuta sitting in his car turning it on and off debating on if it was too forward to go up there and kiss you:

[fandom-wreck-9000]

Welcome home my Darling new neighbor (Wally Darling x Male reader) Yandere Fic

CW: Scopophobia, stalking, and kidnapping.

Chapter 2: Welcome home

You slightly woke up your eyes still feeling heavy, so you didn’t try to open them, you felt as if you couldn't move your body maybe you were still tired, but you could still hear, and the only thing penetrating your ears was the eerie noise of a heartbeat and something breathing all around you… You could still slightly feel, although it was as if your sense of touch was numbed. The most you could make out from what little sense of touch you had was that you were laying in a bed with soft heavy covers. due to your mind still being fuzzy with sleep, you couldn’t remember much of what happened before this moment of waking up… all you could remember was being picked up and basically being kidnapped before this moment of sleepy paralysis. This all felt like some kind of nightmare more specifically a sleep paralysis nightmare.

You decided to try and put your mind back to sleep but before you could, you hear a door open and someone walking in closer to you… You had the familiar feeling of fear in your body although it couldn’t paralyze you any more than you already were, you heard them place something down next to you on a hard surface most likely a nightstand… You could slightly feel the slight weight shift of the bed as they sat down next to you, you could feel them staring it felt so familiar, they touched your face which sent a shiver down your spine… Who the fuck was this person? “(M/N) it's time to wake up.” Their voice spoke softly it seemed monotoned, and creepy yet soothing. it took some might but you eventually managed to open your eyes, and they widened in horror as you saw a puppet sitting before you staring straight into your eyes. As soon as you saw that familiar face all the memories came flooding back with a force, it gave you a headache… And made you even more dizzy and sick than you already were because of the fear you felt… It was Wally Darling…

You tried to sit up and hit him scream and get away, but you couldn’t now being more awake you could tell just how weird your body felt and how much more difficult it was to just move it, you could only do tiny movements like move your fingers, toes, and your head a little bit. “Now now just relax you’re still getting used to your new body friend.” He said that smile you first thought was adorable and cute now seemed absolutely horrifying, and your eyes traveled to look at your arms which your once (S/C) human skin, was now (S/C) colored felt… You could tell your face showed the pure fear and horror you felt for what Wally said next. “No need to be scared friend your in good hands you are safe with me within home.” You became confused what did he mean by ‘within home’? He didn’t answer that as he helped you sit up as your body was still hard to move, your eyes moved to the nightstand which was right by the bed. What was placed onto it by Wally was a tray with food and water, you had no idea how you would eat it since you were now a puppet with supposedly no digestive system.

He apparently saw you stare at the tray with confusion and he grabbed the cup of water and spoke. “You can still drink and kinda eat you just don’t really need to but since there are still some changes happening to your body and you're getting used to your new body, I thought you could use the extra energy boost. But soon you won’t need to eat or drink anymore!” he said bringing the glass of water to your felt lips and gently opening your mouth with his hand so you could ‘drink’ it when you drank some to your own surprise, he placed it back down on the tray. You had to admit it mentally since you couldn’t really vocally admit it and frankly didn’t want to, the water slightly helped you gain some energy. During this entire interaction Wally has not stopped staring at you the only time he looked away was when he went to grab the water and place it back down, it freaked you out how much he stared at you… Especially now since he’s kidnapped you… His eyes were like empty black voids as he intensely stared at you. You also still heard the sound of a beating heart and breathing, but you decided to try and ignore it as best you can, even though it was creepy… especially for the fact that it wasn’t coming from you or Wally…

Wally seemed to be staring into your eyes with the same intensity as the day before, it was unnerving… “I’m really glad your pretty (E/C) eyes stayed even after your form changed to accommodate my world… so very glad… your eyes and yourself are the absolute most after all…” He said in his soothing monotone voice as he continued to stare, you shifted the gaze of your eyes uncomfortably. “I have to go 'cause I have stuff to do today but just rest, Friend 'cause you need to be at your best… remember you are the absolute most.” He said he got up from the bed and he blew you a kiss before leaving the room and soon the house itself, now by yourself, you sat in the bed terrified and scared you gripped the sheets with the little strength you had… how did you get into this situation why you? You felt tears gather in your eyes somehow but you didn’t pay mind to it you just wanted out, you just wanted to get back home… you didn’t want to be here anymore…

After a few hours, you were finally able to move your arms and upper body so you turned to pick up the tray that was on the nightstand looking at the food itself… it seemed less than edible… it seemed to be an attempt at french toast, but the toast wasn’t fully cooked and it seemed that the egg that was on it was still raw, there was also bacon but that was burnt to nothing but charcoal… the only thing that seemed edible was the berries, so you decided to slowly eat those because as time passed… it started to feel like your stomach was being filled with stuffing… I guess he was right about the fact you soon wouldn’t need to be eating or drinking soon anymore… you placed the tray back on the nightstand and continued to sit on the bed, still not having the energy to move your legs…

A few more hours passed and you were finally able to move your legs, so you moved so you could try to stand up from the bed, as you did you heard the front door open. You quickly stood up of course as you did you felt dizzy and your legs felt like complete jello but you grabbed the lamp that was on the nightstand and stood your ground, the ominous steps toward the room you were in frightened you… Your grip on the lamp was relentless. You heard the house creak and squeak, the steps slowed down as they stopped in front of the door to the room you were in… The door started to slowly open so you started to rush forward but you underestimated how wobbly your legs were because not even two steps forward and you tripped over your own feet and dropped the lamp, before you fell face first you heard quick footsteps toward you, and someone caught you and you knew who it was exactly. Looking up you saw Wally his stare seemed kinda angry but he helped you up and hugged you tightly to him, his face resting on your shoulder he held you tightly so tightly that you could barely move your arms away from him… but you were still too weak to fully fight back against him.

“Friend it’s okay Stop being so scared and freaking out… you almost fell and hurt yourself there you still need some rest… Let's put you back in bed friend…” He said as he picked you up with ease and put you back into the bed, sitting next to you again, back to staring at you…

You were stuck here, weren’t you?

@morallygreyhound, @grungedemon, @orquydia, @Kodasstar, @itsawildsaltychip, @yippeeboi, @bombshellbella, @bloodblossomtree, @shaggy-carpet, @fake-it-25, @eddwardtheseventhspacewizard, @r4ggedy-andy, @random-theater-kid, @kayssweetdreams, @animedestler, @zeroplay-69, @n1mble, @salems-apiary, @magno-13, @lucialaotakuxd, @loveolgy, @fufawa, @penisbanger, @callmenobodythehoe, @dragonea, @funbugz, @vato-moo, @h0n3y-f1ll3d- g1ng3rbr3ad-man, @emohaircutstumblur, @puppetskulls, drc00l4tt4, @artistesimp, @hatmekindsirr, @sirenafterdark, @flwerdeath, @wxntcl, @emerald-dream, @lurkingposting, @syrupnscones, @gay-and-random-shit-i-can-find, @bread-samdwich, @tremendouskingcherryblossom. @floof-boop, @thewisteriarchives, @the-reaper-of-souls, @justaconfusedorganism, @theoats420, @fuck-bitches-get-milk, @looneytunestime, @aoniv, @mangle5, @lurkerintheabyss, @judos-tavern, @good-from-all-sides, @buttertoast432

[ticklishshenanigansau]

LaughterLand - Chapter 21: Transformation

(story by Mod Secret, art by Mod Kitty)

“Y-You want us to do … WHAT?!” Papyrus stammered nervously, as Dropwart approached with the spoonful of dangerous-looking potion.

“Well, come on now, dearies.” She grinned excitedly, though she was careful not to spill a single drop of the violet liquid. “Which one of you wants a taste? You know how hard I worked to prepare this little mixture. One of you needs to be my official taste-tester!”

"No way!" Papyrus retorted, already tugging at the bonds that held him to the wooden stake. "We helped you make that disgusting thing, you leave us out of the tasting part!"

Dropwart snickered under her breath as she approached Papyrus with the large wooden spoon. "Oh, I don't think I'm giving you much of a choice, my deary!" she said in a teasing tone.

She abruptly shoved the spoonful of violet liquid directly into Papyrus's face. The younger skeleton clamped his jaws down tightly, turning away from the sweet smelling potion.

"Come on now," Dropwart cooed teasingly. "Just a teensy weensy baby taste for little old me?"

She talked to him like a mother who was trying to spoon feed a baby. If Papyrus was able to speak, he would have shouted at her to treat him like the grown skeleton he was. But he didn't dare open his mouth, he didn't want to risk any possibility of her forcing that dangerous potion down his throat.

"Pretty please with sugar on top?"

Dropwart continued to patronize him as she danced the spoon around his face, trying to find an opening. Papyrus could only grunt in retaliation and forcibly turn his head away. She wasn't about to give up that easily. Before he could do much of anything else, Dropwart grabbed at his chin, squeezing it tightly in her clammy green hand. She forced him to face her, but still, Papyrus kept his mouth closed.

"Come on, Bonesy. Open wiiiide!"

Her tone was still cheery and playful, despite the forceful way she was holding his face still. Papyrus could feel an ache in his jaw, partially from the pain of her holding him so tight, but also from the pressure he had put on his mouth to remain closed at all costs.

His sockets suddenly shot right open in a comical bug-eyed expression. Something was tickling at his toes again. The hissing sounds coming from just below them was enough to confirm that Dropwart's pet snakes were playing with his feet using their soft feathery tongues. Papyrus groaned and squirmed, the tears were already starting to form in his sockets again. He let the image of the horrific potion be his motivation to keep his jaw shut, but he couldn't twist away from the tickling tongues, and he was starting to become desperate.

Sans, meanwhile, was trapped in a kind of brain fog. The harsh tickle attack on his secret sweet spot had left him so exhausted and out of it, it was hard to register what was even happening. Multiple times he tried to shake his skull back to sanity, just to be left feeling dizzy. Parts of his vision were still blurry and hard to make out. So all he could really concentrate on was his breathing. He took low and steady inhales and exhales, each one bringing a small dose of renewed strength and clarity. Although this was the farthest thing from being an ideal place to slow down and take a breath, for the moment he was no longer being tickled out of his mind, so he took the opportunity to regain at least some of his energy back.

It wasn't until his vision returned to normal that he could finally make out the sound of Papyrus struggling, along with Dropwart's teasing persuasion.

"Come on, deary, just one little swallow and I'll let you go. Don't you want to get down from there?"

Sans weakly looked up to see what was happening with his brother. His expression shifted to one of disbelief when he saw Dropwart trying to force the wooden spoon of potion into Papyrus's mouth. His gaze swiftly cast down to the snakes as he felt one just barely graze against his foot. His poor brother was fighting tooth and nail to not have to swallow that horrible liquid, but from the look of how he was barely holding it together, Sans knew he was rapidly losing strength. Sans knew he had to do something to get her attention away from Papyrus. He could only think of one thing. As much as it terrified him, as badly as he didn't want to go through with it, he would do whatever it took to save Papyrus.

"H-Hey...!"

His voice was soft and ragged from all the intense screaming that had been torn out of him. He reeled back, wincing in pain. When he opened his eyes, he saw that neither of them had noticed him, he must have been too quiet. He took a steady breath in, ready to try again.

"Hey!"

His voice was hoarse, he ended up coughing after speaking up louder, but at least he got their attention. Sans finished coughing and glared daggers at the old witch.

"I'll take it," he said coldly.

"Really?" Dropwart's golden eyes glimmered with excitement as she released Papyrus and pulled the spoon away from his face.

"Sans, no!" Papyrus yelled.

Even the snakes had ceased their attack on his feet to watch their master approach the older skeleton. She gingerly held the large wooden spoon up to Sans’s mouth, a devious grin spread across her face.

“But…. But ONLY if you keep your word,” Sans quickly blurted out, causing Dropwart to momentarily freeze. “You said you’d release whoever was brave enough to taste-test this garbage … right?”

Dropwart’s eyes narrowed, though her toothy grin still held onto its mischievous shape.

“Of course, deary,” she replied coolly. “Just one little taste, and you’ll be on your way!”

From the way she sounded, Sans wasn’t entirely sure if he believed her. But more than anything, he didn’t want Papyrus to be the monster Guinea Pig for whatever that potion was meant to do. Beyond that, even if he was released for a fraction of a second, it would be all the time he needed to attack. He swore to himself right then and there that he would fight through whatever exhaustion his body was facing and do whatever it took to bring this crazy old crone down.

“Fine,” Sans replied bluntly.

But before he could properly prepare himself, he felt Dropwart forcibly shoving the spoon into his mouth. He retaliated with a harsh grunt as the wood clanged against his teeth.

“That’s it, deary … drink every last drop.” Dropwart snickered as she tipped the spoon up to let the liquid travel down the older skeleton’s throat.

Sans obeyed, but nearly gagged immediately as the overwhelming taste engulfed his mouth. It was too sweet for words, the saccharine flavor was almost violent with how overtly saturated it was. Like it was pure liquid sugar, or syrup or sweetener, or a horrible combination of all three. It was enough to churn his nonexistent stomach, but still, he swallowed hard. Feeling every drop of the warm, runny liquid slither down his throat and into his system, it was a truly sickening sensation.

As she finally pulled the empty spoon away, Sans coughed and spat, fighting back the overwhelming urge to gag a second time. As he took in another deep inhalation, gravity abruptly pulled him down to the floor as the ropes around his wrists and ankles suddenly vanished. He fell to the floor with a loud THUD! His bones feeling heavier than stone.

As Sans shakily got to his knees, he saw Dropwart's curly-toed boots step in front of him. He weakly lifted his head to see her looming over him, her piercing golden eyes gleaming with delight.

"Well, deary? How do you like it? Good flavor? Nice consistency? Come on, be brutal."

This was his chance. Though he didn't anticipate just how sore his joints would be from being restrained for so long, he fought against the pain. He readied his knees underneath him, preparing to pounce. His hateful glare burned into the creature who dared to hurt him and his brother.

"Oh, I'll be brutal alright!" he growled deeply.

In a flash, he lunged for Dropwart, ready to tackle her to the ground and land a hearty blow on her protruding green nose. But just as quickly as he took off from the floor, he was aggressively pulled back down by the snakes' tails gripping onto his ankles. He felt the wind burst out of chest as he hit the ground twice. Despite the aching pain surging into his bones, he still gritted his teeth and clawed for Dropwart. Trying in vain to pull himself in her direction, but was held back by the hissing serpents.

"Well now!" Dropwart gave a haughty smile down at the older skeleton still desperately trying to attack her. "I believe I said that I would set you free … but if my precious pets want to play with you still, then who am I to stop them?"

As she unleashed her signature shrieking witch cackle, Sans let out a cry of distress as the snakes forcefully yanked him backwards, once again wrapping him up in their colorful coils.

"Noooo!!" he cried as he fought against them. They tauntingly hissed at him from opposite ends of his skull, threatening him with their feathery tongues. "You…. You evil … vile … wicked old—"

Sans stopped himself as he felt an old familiar tingling sensation deep down in his ribs. He couldn't see what was happening, as the snakes’ slithering bodies had him wrapped up good and tight in a bundle of coils. But he just knew that one of them must have wriggled a tail under his shirt to get after him again.

"Pffftt—Hahahahahaha!! Ahahaha!! Oh nohohohoho!! Noho!! Stahahahap!! Not agahahahain!! Ahahahaha!!"

Sans uselessly kicked and struggled against the snakes as he felt the tickling sensation slowly starting to engulf his ribcage. Dropwart let out an excited giggle upon seeing the laughing skeleton.

"Ohohoho! Goody! I just knew it would work!" She clapped her fingertips together like a giddy child, bouncing on her toes with elation.

"Oh no! Sans!!"

Papyrus pulled against the ropes still securing him to the stake, terrified for his brother's lack of stamina in this situation. He had already been through so much, Papyrus feared for his well-being and sanity as the tickling continued.

"Let him go!!" Papyrus demanded as he tugged. "You said you'd set him free! Tell your pets to stop tickling him, now!!"

Dropwart let out another amused cackle at Papyrus's useless command. She turned to give the younger skeleton a knowing grin.

"Afraid I can't help you there, Bonesy." She smirked. "My pets aren't the ones who are tickling him."

Both skeletons' eyes shot open with a combination of shock and confusion. That's when Sans realized with horror that the tickling sensation was starting to spread closer to his underarms and spine, and it certainly didn't feel like the flicking of a tail going after so much space at once.

With a simple wave of her hand, Dropwart commanded her snakes to release Sans from their clutches. Sure enough, as the skeleton fell back down to the ground with nothing physically touching him, the horrible tickling was still plaguing him.

"Wh-Wh-Whahahahahat?! Hahahahaha!! Wh-What the—AAGH!! Ahahahaha!!! Whahat's going ahahahahan?! Ahahahahaha!!

Sans writhed around on his back, unable to control his laughter as the tingling spread like wildfire up to his underarms and down to the underside of his ribcage. After a moment of frantically clawing at his shirt, Sans noticed a faint glow coming from just underneath as it started to ride up over his spine. Quickly gripping the rim of his shirt, he yanked it up to reveal the entirety of his ribcage was glowing.

He noticed the glow was steadily spreading across his body, it had already consumed his underarms and was now heading for his spine and hips. Everywhere that the glow had consumed was engulfed in the ticklish sensation. It was absolutely unbearable! Even the act of lifting his shirt up, in turn lifted his underarms. Although they were already being tickled Sans couldn't stop himself from curling in on himself after getting a good enough look at the state of his bones.

Papyrus just stood there with his mouth agape once he saw the state of his brother's ribcage. It didn't take long to put together that this mysterious glow was the cause of Sans's ticklish stress. Papyrus could hear Dropwart snickering with delight, immediately he gave her a dangerous glare.

"What did you do to him?!" he harshly scolded, eliciting another amused giggle from the witch.

Then it dawned on the both of them, the strange color of the spreading light. It had matched the phosphorescent violet color of the potion that Sans was forced to swallow. The potion was tickling poor Sans from the inside, and there was nothing he could do to stop it!

"AAAAGH!!! AHAHAHAHA!! PLEAEHEHEASE!! PLEASE NOHOHOHO—AHAHAHAHA!! I-HEEHEEHEE-I CAHAHAAN'T!! I CAHAHAN'T!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! M-MAKE—AAAGGHAHA!! MAKE IT STAHAHAHAHAP!!"

Sans pleaded, hopelessly thrashing on the floor as he watched the violet glow rise up from his sleeves to tickle at his upper arms. His whole body tingled and trembled hopelessly as the tickling sensations got worse and worse with each passing second.

"Heeheehee! There is no stopping it I'm afraid, deary," Dropwart teased as she loomed over the hysterical skeleton. "You'll just have to let it run its course."

Sans looked up at her, tears desperately flooding from the corners of his aching sockets. Laughter pounding out of him as he spasmed on the floor like a fish out of water.

"PLEHEHEHEHEEHEEHEE...!" He trailed off as the glow overtook his forearm and consumed his hips and pelvis. "PLEHEHEHEHEA....PLEHEEHEEHEE...!!"

He didn't have enough air to choke out another plea for mercy. The pupils in his sockets were reduced to tiny pinpricks as frantic desperation washed over his face. He would have given anything to make the tickling stop, and if his expression wasn't making that sentiment clear enough, then he would have outright spat it out if he had the breath to do so. It was all-consuming. Not just his body, but his mind raced horribly with unyielding pleas for mercy.

"Make it stop!" were all his frantic thoughts could scream. "It's too much! Just make it stop!"

He moved his fingers to clench into his hand as a last-ditch effort to feel anything other than ticklishness. But to his horror, his fingers wouldn't move. His skull rolled over to his left side to see what was happening. Nothing was holding him down, and to his dismay he could feel every inch of his body, however hypersensitive it had become. But when he went to close his left hand, it wouldn't move. It laid there lifeless on the wooden floor.

In a panic, he tried his other hand but found the same terrifying result. He couldn't move his fingers, or his hands, he even came to realize that his toes had ceased wiggling. As he looked back up at Dropwart, his neck became stiff and still until he realized he could no longer move his head. His body was completely paralyzed and still being mercilessly tickled beyond his breaking limit. For a moment Sans just laid there, his already hysterical laughter now intermixed with screams of terror and helplessness. It was one thing to be tickled while being restrained and unable to free himself, but being tickled whilst being trapped inside his own body was a manner of hysteria that Sans had never before experienced.

Dropwart stood over him, beaming with delight. She had clearly noticed how he could no longer move and by the look on her face, this had come as no surprise to her.

"Oh, no need to fret, my deary...." She grinned mischievously down at him as he continued to scream. "It'll all be over soon."

Her voice was practically distant as Sans continued breathlessly cachinnating, he could have sworn he could hear it echoing as he felt his mind trying to black out. He was so lost in the madness, that he couldn't even register that his limbs were starting to shrink. Inch by inch his arms, legs, and even his torso were starting to get smaller and shorter.

"SANS!!" Papyrus shrieked when he realized what was happening.

This entire time, Papyrus had been pushing himself past the point of exhaustion to try and break out of the ropes. Using his brother as motivation, he wanted nothing more than to scoop Sans up in his arms and run away from this place as fast as his legs could carry him. While he didn't know what he could do to help him overcome the tickling potion in his system, at least they both would be out of harm's way. But nothing Papyrus tried was getting him out of the restraints, all he could do was just stand there and watch his brother suffer on the floor.

Papyrus rapidly blinked his sockets in utter disbelief as he noticed Sans starting to shrink. He couldn't believe it, surely this must be some kind of a trick, or an aftereffect of being tortured for so long by so many different feats of unfamiliar magic. But it was real. It was happening. Papyrus could tell by every individual reaction of delight coming from Dropwart. Sans was shrinking!

"SANS!!" Papyrus screamed at the top of his nonexistent lungs. "SANS!! WAKE UP!! PLEASE BROTHER, SNAP OUT OF IT!!"

To Sans's relief, he was starting to feel the effects of the potion starting to wear off. At first, it wasn't that noticeable as he was still caught in uncontrollable fits of laughter and screaming. But slowly over a span of minutes he could notice the intensity of the tickling potion starting to decrease. It wasn't slowing down nearly as quickly as Sans needed it to. Every sharp inhale served as a silent plea for the effects to go away faster before choking out another burst of desperate laughter.

But after way too long, the ticklishness finally became bearable, and Sans was able to take in deep, albeit shaky, breaths in between incessant giggling. The skeleton could still feel himself trembling even after the tickling came to a complete stop. He silently prayed that Dropwart would leave him alone long enough to recover at least a little bit, which thankfully she did.

As his breathing returned to a comfortable place, he looked up to see Dropwart's face practically glowing with giddy excitement. He glanced at Papyrus to see an opposite expression of complete horror on his brother's face. But what caused the older skeleton's anxiety to return was when he realized that he still couldn't move. His body was still paralyzed on the floor, and no amount of struggling was making a difference.

"P-Pap...?" Sans fearfully stammered, grateful to at least still be able to speak. "What's going on? Why can't I move?"

At first, Papyrus stood there, still too stunned to speak. But realizing that Dropwart was likely going to blurt out the answer, Papyrus knew it would be better to hear it from him.

"Sans…," he timidly replied. "Y-You're a … doll!"

“I’m a … WHAT?!”

Sans was certain that he didn’t hear Papyrus clearly, it had to be a mistake. It just had too! He attempted to turn his head to look at his arm, but all he could move were his pupils as they strained to look to his left. He could see his arm, but something was clearly off. It looked … softer? It almost looked like it was coated with a gentle layer of fuzz. He still couldn’t move it, and straining his eyes to look the other way yielded the same results. He couldn’t believe it … he was actually a doll!

“A DOLL!!” Dropwart cheered and skipped around the room like a cheerful schoolgirl. The force of her feet landing on the floor scaring the life out of Sans. “I can’t believe it, my very own poppet! No true witch should be without one, you know!”

She picked Sans up by his midsection to hold him with both hands, looking him straight in the eyes. It was the strangest, scariest sensation for Sans to be picked up off the ground with no control of his body to even so much as catch himself. Instinctively, he tried to struggle and fight against her. But his new ragdoll body lay limp, lifeless, and totally helpless to gravity. He could only stare into her face, unable to form an expression of fear, or even to tremble.

“You…. You change him back!” Papyrus yelled boldly. “You turn him back to normal right now!”

The Lilac Snake hissed dangerously at Papyrus as if to try and silence him. But this time, the younger skeleton’s fear was replaced with a defiant anger as he continued to glare at Dropwart demanding to change his brother back.

Dropwart ignored Papyrus’s angry cries as she examined Sans. She gently lifted his arms and admired the stitching across his face, as if he were an actual hand-made doll. Every little detail about her magical handiwork made her beam and giggle with elation. As she switched to just holding him with her left hand, her right hand held up one single finger.

“Now for the true test,” she mused as her finger moved down towards Sans’s midsection.

“W-Wait! Hold on!” Sans stuttered fearfully watching her giant finger move closer to him. “Wait! What are you gonna…?”

He trailed off as he felt the tip of her nail suddenly lifting his shirt up. Before he had a chance to protest further, she wriggled her finger underneath and proceeded to scratch along his new doll ribs.

“AAGH!! Ahahahahahahaha!! Oh-Oh nohohohohoho!! Ahahaha!! Stahahahap!! Stop!! It tihihihihihickles!!”

To his horror, his ticklishness still remained, even while in doll form. In an instant he was thrown right back into the helpless fit of laughter he had been in when he first felt his body become paralyzed. A deathly dread filled his very Soul, he now knew what she was planning to do to him.

“Oh, how utterly PERFECT!” Dropwart practically shrieked in delight. “We’ll brew up another batch for your friend over here, and then you two will be my endless source of ingredients!”

“WHAT?!” Sans screamed, all at once forgetting the ache that was still present in his throat. “NO!! NO YOU CAN’T!!”

Sans didn’t want to believe any of this was happening. This crazy witch turned him into a helpless plush doll and was going to make him and his brother her forever tickle slaves! There was nothing he could do to stop her, this form wasn’t even allowing him to blink! It was worse than being tied down or restrained. At least even in the tightest of bonds Sans could attempt to distract himself with useless struggling. But now, even that luxury was denied him and it was undeniably maddening. Once she repeated the process to drain him of enough laughter to make a new potion for Papyrus, he would suffer the same fate. Sans never felt so doomed in his life.

“LET HIM GO!!” Papyrus growled as he continued to struggle, practically trying to twist his fingers around to claw at the ropes. “Let go of my brother! Y-You horrible old witch!!” He wasn’t as good at coming up with insults as Sans, but Papyrus had finally had enough and was bold enough to at least try.

Again, Dropwart ignored Papyrus and excitedly started gathering empty glass vials from the wooden shelves. Sans let out a series of panicked yelps as he was yanked around in her hand. Realizing that she couldn’t hold him and all seven new glass containers all at once, she passed a good amount of the empty containers to the Magenta Snake.

“Ooh! Bring the paintbrush, deary!” Dropwart excitedly instructed.

The Magenta Snake grabbed the paintbrush and the twisted black wand off of the table with its tail before slithering towards the back of the room. Papyrus couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed it before, but what lay beyond the cauldron and the wooden table in the back of the room was a large red curtain. It covered the rest of the cottage, obstructing it from view. Papyrus watched as the Magenta Snake carried the vials and the wand through the curtain and disappeared behind it.

The snake returned moments later to retrieve the pile of pastel feathers on the floor, clearly with a goal of bringing everything Dropwart had used on the skeletons to the secluded back area of the cottage. As the Snake finished picking up the last of the feathers, it slinked away, returning to the curtain. This time Dropwart followed it, carrying about four empty vials in one hand, and holding onto Sans in the other.

“Hey! Wait! Where are you going?!” Papyrus called after them, not wanting to let Sans out of his sight. “You bring him back here!”

Before following the Magenta Snake behind the curtain, Dropwart turned to give Papyrus a snarky smile.

"Oh, don't worry, deary … this one will keep you company," she said referring to the Lilac Snake, who gave a grumpy-sounding hiss from the corner of the cottage. "And when I come back … you'll never be parted from your brother again."

She let out one final diabolical cackle before closing the curtain and disappearing into the back with Sans. It only took a moment before Papyrus could hear Sans's laughter replacing the silence of the cottage. It was slightly muffled due to the sudden distance between them and the sound coming through the curtain. But Papyrus could still make out Sans's pleas for mercy as well as Dropwart's patronizing tone.

"Oh no, my deary, much too hearty!" Papyrus couldn't tell if she was talking to Sans or the snake. "Remember, we must start off with a light tittering sound! Try flicking your tail around the back of his head!" That answered that question.

Papyrus knew he had to get out of this somehow. Whatever it took, he had to rescue Sans. He strained at his arms and legs, gritting his teeth and pulling against the ropes with everything he had left in him. He stopped abruptly when he heard the harsh hissing sound of the Lilac Snake. Clearly, being left out of the Tickle Party had placed it in a sour mood, and it wasn't about to take its eyes off of Papyrus.

Papyrus knew in an instant that he couldn't mess around as long as the cursed serpent was keeping an eye on him. He wouldn't put it past it to satisfy its own need for hunger by tickling him out of punishment for trying to escape. Papyrus couldn't take that risk. Besides being unbearably unpleasant, another tickle attack would leave him even weaker. Then he'd REALLY be in no condition to help his brother.

"NOO!! NO-AHAHAHAHAHA!! STOP!! STO—AHAHAHAHA!!"

Just as the thought of Sans crossed his mind, Papyrus could hear his brother's helpless wails of laughter and begging. No doubt the experience being even worse for him since he could no longer move. Dropwart must have already collected the softer doses of laughter if she was already making Sans laugh that hard. Papyrus had to think of something fast, he knew there wasn't much time left.

Trying to think like his brother, Papyrus's eyes darted around the room. Looking for something, anything that could possibly help him escape. The only thing that really caught his attention was a lit candle that had been resting just above him on the top of the wooden shelf. He kept thinking if he could just knock it down to his hand, he could use the flame to burn the ropes across his wrist. But there was nothing he could do to knock it over without alerting the Lilac Snake. If only he could use his magic, he would surely be able to defeat it with one of his special attacks.

"OH NO!! PLEASE!! NOHOHOHOHOHO!!"

Another burst of laughter echoed from behind the curtain. The sound of Sans's distressed begging completely interrupted Papyrus's thoughts and he shuddered just thinking what his poor brother was going through.

"Come on … come on! Where was it?" Came Dropwart's voice, obviously searching for something while still mercilessly tickling Sans.

Although Papyrus knew he didn't have much magic to give while being trapped in this world, he knew there had to be something. He managed to pull off one bone construct back when he and Sans were hanging upside down, maybe he could manage to pull it off again. Remembering how sturdy the head of the snake was, the younger skeleton decided it would be best to focus on pulling out a bone construct for the purpose of knocking the candle down. He didn't have much time left, and he didn't know if he had the energy to pull it off. But he had to try … for Sans.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the world around him, which was already proving to be challenging as another anguished howl of laughter tore from Sans, causing him to flinch. As hard as it was, he knew for the moment that he had to completely block his brother out in order to find a spark.

While in the midst of concentrating, Dropwart peeked her head out from the curtain and beckoned for the Lilac Snake to come closer.

"My dear little pet," she cooed, patting it affectionately on the head. "Be a dear and show me where that snorting spot is again, will you?" The serpent hissed happily, following Dropwart back behind the curtain.

Now, thankfully, Papyrus had been left alone, but concentration was still proving to be difficult as Sans's screams of laughter were now intermixed with sharp snorting sounds. Papyrus shook off the noise and focused, surprised to have found one tiny spark almost immediately.

Much like all the others before it, it was small and pathetic. Papyrus knew that it was going to require a lot of mental energy in order to sustain it. But as another bout of sobbing laughter echoed through the curtain, Papyrus was more determined than ever to make it happen. He clenched his teeth, and shut his eyes tightly. He tried to bring the spark to life as fast as possible without letting it slip away. But in his haste, it was almost lost immediately, a clear sign to take his time and be careful. Papyrus tried his best to push the stress of time out of his mind. Tried hard not to think about Sans and the unending torment he was facing, and especially tried not to think about what would happen if he failed. He had no time or mental stamina to fret over anything but his magic.

Little by little he felt it starting to expand. His Soul grew warm with the new presence of magic steadily filling it up. His mind began to ache, the more he manifested the power to keep growing, but if he could just push a little bit more, that would be all he needed. Inhaling deeply, he pulled the last of his mental strength, until at last he felt the spark engulf his Soul. The feeling was warm and pleasant, he hated the idea of letting it go so soon. But his brother needed him, and that was all the motivation he needed.

He snapped his fingers, summoning a single bone construct to form before his eyes. Immediately, he felt the weakening shiver as the magic once again depleted from his Soul, but he ignored it, instead quietly instructing the bone to place itself at the top of the shelf. He could hear Sans starting a new round of screaming as Dropwart hit a particularly bad spot on him. Fearing that she was already going after his grooves, Papyrus worked quickly.

Carefully, he nudged the candlestick closer and closer to the end of the shelf. As it teetered over the edge, Papyrus reached up with his fingertips, ready to catch it. With the gentlest of pushes, the bone construct tipped the candlestick over, sending it tumbling down. It fell much faster than expected. Papyrus's Soul thumped anxiously in his chest as it fell towards his hand. Thankfully, he managed to catch it just in time. Letting out a brief sigh of relief, he got to work.

Sure enough, Dropwart had Sans placed onto his belly on a separate wooden table as she wriggled a feather up his shirt, mercilessly teasing at his sweet spot. The doll laid there in a puddle of his own tears. As surprised as he was that he was still able to cry in doll form, he was grateful to be resting on his chin so he wouldn't accidentally drown in them. Dropwart gleefully collected another vial of "Hysterical Laughter" and pulled the feather out, giving Sans a brief moment to catch his breath.

"So, deary, you ready for the grand finale?" Dropwart teased as she twirled the feather between her fingertips. "Just one more to go and we have our next batch"

"Nohohohoho...!!" Sans miserably sobbed in distress, adding more tears to the puddle. "Pleeheease!! Please no mohohore!! I can't take anymohohohore!!"

Dropwart chuckled in amusement before lifting the back of Sans's shirt once again. "You know, deary, you really should be using this time for breathing instead of crying—"

"HEY!!" Papyrus's sharp yell from the entrance of the curtain froze everyone in startlement. He stood there glaring angrily at the witch and her two snakes, the single bone construct gripped tightly in his fist. "Back away from my brother!!"

Papyrus threw the construct hard, aiming hopefully for Dropwart, but instead smacking the Magenta Snake on the nose. The serpent reeled back in pain, before abruptly lunging for the skeleton in anger. Papyrus fought hard, grabbing vials off the back shelves and shattering them against the snakes' heads. But before he had a chance to grab for either Sans or Dropwart, he was tripped by their long tails. This time they bound him up so tightly, he feared that his bones would crack. Dropwart angrily approached the younger skeleton, waving a long pointed fingernail in his face.

"Now is THAT any way to behave?" She seemed genuinely frustrated with him, but her tone and behavior still reflected that of a mother about to scold and punish a child. "How did you even get out of that?"

At first Papyrus refused to answer, but groaned with pain once he felt the snakes starting to squeeze the life out of him.

"Well?!" Dropwart practically roared in his face.

"The … candlestick...!" Papyrus strained. "By … the way … part … of your shelf … is now on fire!"

Dropwart quickly opened the curtain, sure enough, the wooden shelf that was standing next to the stakes in the ground were now steadily being engulfed by flames. She let out a high-pitched shriek of rage, stomping down hard on of the pieces of her shattered vials, destroying them even further. She angrily pointed a finger at Papyrus's face.

"You are going to CLEAN UP this mess, Mister!" she growled, all sense of childlike giddiness and fun completely gone away. "And then I'm gonna turn you into a doll, then you are going to replace every single form of laughter that I had on that shelf for the next year! Do you hear—"

There was a knock at the door. Everyone inside the cottage froze before slowly turning to stare at the front entrance. The knock happened again, this time louder than before. Nobody quite knew what to do, even if Dropwart was accustomed to visitors, it's not like this was the best time. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, there was a loud bang as the door exploded off of its hinges.

The once clean entryway to the cottage was replaced with a gaping hole in the wall. As Papyrus looked at the faces of the perpetrators, his Soul froze, his nonexistent stomach became ill with terror. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be! But … it was.

The Cheshire Cat slinked his big red body into the cottage. Followed by the lumbering Tickle Monster, who was clearly the one responsible for the door's destruction. As his eyes cast down to the floor, Papyrus could see the shadows of two eerily familiar floating children.

The Cat looked at Papyrus, looked at the Sans doll on the table, and then up to Dropwart with that old familiar devilish grin spread across his face.

"A thousand pardons for the intrusion, Madame," he said politely. "But I do believe you have something of ours."

[goodpointsandbadpoints]

i can't remember if I already requested #20 or not. I don't think I did?? Figured a second ask wouldn't hurt anyway asdjsjds <333

prompt 20: a kiss out of desperation

hellooo silver! you did not already send one! Here's a Nivanfield. It's just pure sappy smut tbh. (you can blame Sam this time for making me rotate piers in my brain <3). This prompt also made me think of Shake, so I might do a flash fic for them at some point for this prompt 👀.

tags: smut; non-op piers; new relationship.

- 🔞 under the cut -

“Hnh, hah—” he grips the pillowcase above his head. He can’t help the full-body shudders that run through him, every thrust bringing a noise to his lips. He used to try not to, tried to keep still when something was in him, but there’s no point in it now. 

Besides, he likes the way Chris looks when he does it. 

He’s looking down at Piers now, rocking back and forth with this heady, overwhelmed flush to his face. He fucks into him slow, just beginning. Every slow, rolling thrust strokes Piers up into his spine. 

They’re trying some things. Not anything too unusual or bold, really, but nearly everything is new for them. They spent a long time just kissing and touching. Chris was determined to find every place on his body that made him shiver—soft circle around his navel, traced scars, the drifted sensation under his arm. When he trailed just the edges of his nails over Piers’ knees, he parted them without a second thought. 

One thing led to another, the heavy weight of Chris settling between his legs, and the blood had rushed there so convincingly that he needed more. 

Piers feels like he’s not holding his end of the bargain. He takes Chris easily, losing himself so quickly to every part of being under him and around him, that he hasn’t spent much time giving back. His hands are on Chris’ shoulders. He lets them slide down to his front. 

The man’s nipples are already hard. For some reason, it’s endearing. Piers rubs his palms into them. 

Chris jolts like he’s been shocked. He makes this strangled, low noise, and Piers finds himself grinning. 

“That do it for you?” he asks. 

Chris gives him the world’s least-convincing glare. It could have something to do with the little thrusts he starts doing, his hips flexing at Piers’ thighs. 

“Put ‘em here,” Chris says. He takes one of Piers’ hands and slides it down to his waist. Piers does the same on the other side, and he holds Chris. 

Maybe it was to bring him closer—who knows, and he doesn’t really care. He pulls his legs up higher, and the angle draws Chris in further, and then they’re both making stifled, breathy noises chest-to-chest. Every drag lights him up, makes his toes curl.

He feels Chris pick up a bit. 

“You close?” he asks him. 

Chris groans first, then he kisses Piers. It’s desperate, more rushed than the slow exploration they had been doing earlier, but he pulls back and manages to say, “Yeah.” 

“C’mon,” Piers says. He gets Chris as close as he can, arching and pulling him in at the waist, tipping his hips and searching, finding. “Wanna see it.” 

It’ll make his day. That’s the only thing he can think as he watches Chris’ expression tighten. There’s some adjustment as Chris tips his hips a new way, and then—

“Hngh, Piers,” Chris gasps. He’s found it. He takes the pace higher, fucking him a little faster. 

Piers tenses around him just to feel it. It brings Chris over the edge. He feels him stutter his rhythm and fall into a halting one, bucking his hips. 

Everything together—sound and touch and the slow build he’s been getting all afternoon—is almost too much. Piers slips his hand between them and chases the pure, dizzy feeling. It pumps from his core like every color, like bending light and sweetness that he can taste. He feels himself tense, close, his face showing it. 

When he comes, it’s with Chris catching his breath above him, weight between his legs, and warmth everywhere. 

(collection on ao3)

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Crazy Stupid Love

edited!!

type: angst warning(s): self-doubt, harmful thoughts, age-gap, Azriel is Reader's boss word count: 5.4k words summary: Reader is one of Azriel’s spies. Nesta has rescued her from Illyria and brought her to Velaris. Azriel has seen Reader’s potential and has asked her to become his spy. Slowly, he has fallen for her and vice versa. But both have difficulties accepting those feelings, especially since Azriel has doubts about him being Illyrian when you just escaped the Illyrian war camps, thinking you would be disgusted by his love for you. This is now the edited version of a request (where Reader is one of tge IC members' children) that caused incredibly much hate and uproar. Once again I can only apologise and hope you will like this story now better. Additional info, Reader is jealous of Gwyn in this, so Reader’s dislike of Gwyn stems from disappointment and jealousy. I love Gwyn’s character a lot, so these are not my thoughts and hence why I put some cute Gwynriel friendship into it. 

- all rights reserved - 

The shadowsinger’s thumb carefully swipes over your cheek, barely brushing the surface, his palm soft and warm on your skin, his touch gentle. You almost melt into it, your heart rapidly beating against your rib cage, reveling into the closeness of him. Your skin tingles, prickling. Not only where he touches you. Everywhere actually. Your gaze is trained on the ground, unable to look at him. 

Azriel. Shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court. And your boss—you being his best spy and that for quite some years now. So these feelings are…very, very wrong. You know that, but—

“Hm?” he questions, his voice barely above a whisper. It is the gentleness in it that nearly draws tears to your eyes, this side of him that hardly anyone ever gets to see. He lets this gentles, this soft and caring side show whenever he is around you. 

And that hurts, because even though, your heart beats for him, there will never be more between the two of you than…friends. 

And friends is already the most of it. You are his employee.

“I just felt dizzy all of a sudden. Might have been the heat,” you answer, warmth filling your cheeks. Azriel does not really seem content with this answer and tips your chin up with his thumb. You are forced to meet his gaze eventually, your heart pounding in your throat. You clamp your mouth shut, knowing that you first had to order your thoughts and only then could talk. 

You mind is a mess whenever you are around him. You have always liked Azriel a lot. He always seems to understand you, making you feel comfortable in what you do and say and think. Until it changed. Or not. You still feel comfortable around him, but now also really nervous and sometimes a little bit...shy. 

Azriel is just–Gods! 

He…you find it hard to breathe whenever you look at him. But now, now that your eyes clash with those of hazel, it is a sheer impossibility to form any coherent thought and to make your lungs fill with air. 

“I think you might not have drunk enough today,” Azriel says, a tint of reprimanding in his voice. You roll your eyes a little–yes, you are a younger fae, but you aren’t a baby. You are an adult and very capable of knowing how much or little you should drink a day.

The shadowsinger clicks his tongue and chuckles, the deep rumble doing something to you, making your toes curl. “What did I say about you rolling your eyes at me, little one?” Taunting laces his features when his gaze moves over your face, the corner of his mouth tipping up. 

Snickering slightly, you simply roll them again. “Well, sometimes, Shadowsinger, one can only roll their eyes at you. I am no baby. I can perfectly—“ “I never said you are a not capable of knowing how much to drink or you being a bay, I just realised that during training you drank nothing at all. And also not during lunch.” 

So he was watching you during lunch? Your mind plays silly games with you. Why would he watch you? To see if you are fit for work?

“So during lunch you had nothing better to do than watch me and see if I drink enough?” Your brow raises in challenge, eyes aglow when the narrow in on the shadowsinger. He cocks his head, smiling at your teasing words. Azriel leans back on the lounger and stretches his legs, then he folds his hands behind his neck. His onyx hair glow in the bright sunlight, his hazel eyes sparkling with challenge. 

“I’m just looking out for you. Training requires strength. But so it does require that you eat and drink enough and have enough power.” 

His explanation is not entirely what you hoped to hear, nevertheless you bow your head and force a small smile on your lips, knowing it does not reach your eyes. 

You know this is wrong, know that you should not feel…so much for Azriel. It is strange, odd, weird, twisted. But you cannot do anything against your feelings, you cannot force your heart to stop beating so frantically whenever Azriel is around, whenever he is near. It just happens, you just happen to have caught feelings for him. Feelings that you cannot suppress, nor do anything against them. 

You cannot stand the tension any longer, how close he sits, how his scent fills your nostrils —night-chilled mist, cedar and a hint of sweat— or how his warmth reaches your body, how his thigh touches yours. How often have you imagined situations just like this in the dead of night, staring at the ceiling in your room, fingers toying with the edges of the romance books you have been trying to read but soon lost focus.

“Can we just go back to training?” You don’t wait for an answer, standing in one swift movement that has you tumbling a little bit.

“Only if you drink. You nearly fainted earl—“ You snatch the bottle from the bench next to Azriel, roll your eyes and take a big sip. Actually you down the whole thing in a few big gulps.

Unsmiling the spymaster stands, shadows skittering around him. Azriel rolls back his broad shoulders and stretches his wings for a moment.

You find yourself gazing. Your throat works on a swallow when your eyes trail over the thin, leather-like membrane, the vein up to his talon. From Morrigan and Nesta you have often heard the rumors that wingspan says a lot about—

“Staring at wings is inapproiate, Y/N,” Azriel chuckles and quickly snatches them in.

“Sorry,” you whisper, sharply turning away from him. He could never see the terribly blush staining your cheeks. Internally you curse Morrigan and Nesta for telling you about wingspans. 

Heading away from Azriel, you decide to join the children of the High Lord and the general of the Illyrian armies, them only being a good century younger than you.  

You just have to leave, wanting to get away from the shadowsinger that still has your knees wobble. 

Baxton already frantically waves at you, a big toothy grin on his lips. “Feeling better?” he asks and you bow your head, smiling. 

They inform you that they, Baxton and Nyx, would do some one-on-one combat while Dorian trains with his father, Cassian, on the other side of the pitch. Well, then you would not train with them. Which leaves you with–

A shadow appears above you and you don’t even have to turn to know who it is. “Let’s do some kicking. There are still some…lacks you have to work on.”

You really want to kick backwards, knowing Azriel just said this to anger you because he knows that you fight much better when you are angered. And this again...that he knows you so well, makes the content of your stomach sour. He knows you somehow better than anyone else, like and and his shadows can read you perfectly, your actions, your thoughts, just everything.

“Well, then, master of kicking, show me how it is done.” 

The grin that spreads over your face is cruel and mischievous when you turn to Azriel, innocently blinking your eyes up at him. His nostrils flare and a snort leaves his throat before he tilts his head, motioning for the right side of the pitch. 

"Little one..." he growls lowly, reprimanding but also amusement in his tone.

Nyx and Baxton are already dueling, fully focused on each other when you start with kicking excises that Azriel has just shown you, trying to imitate them. 

“If you continue kicking like this you will twist your ankle,” Azriel comments and yes, has you roll your eyes once again.

“Then show me how to stand, you oh so great Illyrian warrior.” Mischief sparks in your eyes when you throw him a challenging look over your shoulder. Azriel chuckles lowly, lifting his hand to show you a vulgar gesture. “No need to get feisty, little one.”

“Don’t always call me little one!” Your cross your arms over your chest. Well, you are little indeed since that is what makes a good spy. You have an easy time hiding, and sliding through narrow and small spaces, ducking down behind bushes or fitting into cupboards and closets to get secret information.

Your breathing comes to an abrupt stop when Azriel closes the distance between your bodies, now standing mere inches from you, his brow raised while he looks down on you. 

Night-chilled mist and cedar envelope you, the heat from his body stretching out and warming your skin. You try to hold his gaze, looking up at him with colour blooming on your cheeks. This is…different. This feels different. This feels intimate. 

“You are little,” Azriel argues and grins. You want to hit him, but you find yourself unable to do so. It becomes a sheer impossibility to breathe, to think, to…exist. 

His grin is nothing but cruel beauty. He is beautiful when he smiles, but gods, when Azriel grins, it feels like someone pulls the rug out from under your feet.

A cool breeze tingles your skin when Azriel leans in. Maybe you are imaging it, but still fully on its own accord your head tilts, your lids slowly closing. Offer and permission.

You feel his breath hot against your skin, Azriel is mere inches from you, his own heart rapidly beating in his chest. You can hear it. You can feel it.

The shadowsinger clears his throat, probably remembering that you aren't alone on the pitch, and the warmth leaves your body the moment he leans back. 

“Let me show you how should…stand,” he breathes, voice hoarse and croaky when he wipes his palm over his face. He steps back, unease lacing his features, a deep shade of red on his cheeks. 

Is he blushing? Is Azriel truly blushing right now? you think, still in a sort of trance of what has just happened. Only moments later you can, with quite a lot of difficulty focus back on training.

But in all honesty, you still think about how close he stood, how his breath felt on your skin, how he looked at you on the training pitch, when you are sitting in your bathtub the following evening. 

Soon it is Starfall Eve and you are going to have this big celebration where the whole Inner Circle along their friends will meet up at the House of Wind, celebrating the travelling spirits. 

Half a century ago, Nesta brought you along to one of her Valkyrie trainings. She met you in the outskirts of Illyria –you worked there as a laundry lady– and you immediately loved the idea suggested to you: become a Valkyrie and leave the war camp you worked in. 

Nesta brought you with her to Velaris, and soon you were offered a room in the Town House as there was always a place for people who needed it.

During the very first training Azriel has already seen your incredible potential, having somehow stolen you away from Nesta somehow by offering you to work as a spy form him. And that was what you did. You became his spy. Neither you nor Azriel has had any intention of falling in love with the other–you hearts apperently have had different ideas. And so did your souls. Two souls hoping to finally being united as one. 

Your fingers absently brush over your calves, your gaze trained on the tub wall, imagining how deep the brown of Azriel’s eyes looked when he locked his gaze with yours. How soft his scarred hands felt on your skin. You have always felt most comfortable around Azriel–it was always him who you sought out when you needed someone to talk to, when you felt sad or lonely. It was always Azriel who was there for you, comforted you. And it was always—

“Are you done, Y/N?”

“Almost done,” you answer the young Nyx, whom, when he was younger, you have often baby-sitted, when his father and mother went to High Lord meetings and you did not have to work. 

But well, you aren’t even close to almost done, but Nyx seems content about the answer, mumbling something before shuffling away. 

You haven’t been finished in twenty minutes, but apperently everyone seems fine it, the High Lord also having taken quite some time longer himself, fixing his suit jacket and his hair.

You were in the bathroom for so long, doing your hair and putting on some light make-up. You want to look stunning, you want to knock the breath from Azriel’s lungs, even though you know how silly that sounds.

You aren't in the best mood, swinging the wine in your glass and releasing some air through your nose. Even two hours after arriving at the House of Wind you haven’t caught sight of Azriel, starting to feel slightly uneasy. Where the hell was he? 

You have been hanging around with Nuala and Cerridwen, your two colleagues, for quite sometime until Nuala leaves to talk to the High Lord if still everything is alright and so it is Cerridwen and you. Cerridwen blabbers non-stop about a new recipe she has discovered and you only listen with one ear, always trying to figure out where Azriel could be. He has to see you in this dress, you think to yourself when Cerridwen guides you through the kitchen to head towards one of the balconies. 

The door to the balcony is open and the moment you lift your gaze, your heart splinters into a million pieces.

That is where he has been the whole time.

Your brother is still talking to you, still happily chatting, but you cannot make out a single word that is said over the blood pumping in your ears. You feel your knees get wobbly, a large crack appearing in your heart when you see it, the priestess' hand, placed on Azriel’s lower arm. Tensions brackets your mouth, tears burning behind your eyes when you look at the shadowsinger’s happy, joyful face. He is laughing, freely, whole-heartedly. His eyes are glowing brightly, his posture so relaxed, so at ease. 

Your hands fall to your side, the crack in your heart increasing, making it hard to breathe. Your lower lip trembles and your—

“What do you think is better–chocolate or vanilla?” Gods…Furrowing your brows you turn to Cerridwen and look up at her. Your lips part when confusion laces your insides. You have no idea. No idea of what she has said, of what you should do now, of how you should act now. You do not want to stay here. Not with them getting all cosy and Azriel probably falling in love right in this moment. He seems so—

A loud, whole-hearted laugh draws your attention once again back to the spymaster and the priestess. Azriel is slightly bent over, clutching his belly, laughing. Gwyn is chortling loudly next to him, her beautiful teal eyes glowing, a stunning smile plastering her face. She is stunning. 

Tearing your gaze away from them, you look down on yourself. She is stunning, but you are…What are you? 

Self-doubt and self-consciousness flood your entire body and suddenly all you want to do is get out of the skin tight, midnight blue dress. You want to rip it off your body and put on one of those big jumpers that would hide every little curve and edge of your figure. You aren't as slender and stunning as Gwyn and you know that. Azriel probably knows that as well. He finds her beautiful, this is obvious, has become obvious during training in the past…years. He might have been in love with her for much longer, even before the two of you even met, and you simply did—

“Y/N? Still with me?” Getting impatient, the shadow wraith snaps her fingers in front of your face. You turn to her, taking in her partly irritated but also worried expression.

“Sorry, I am not feeling too well,” you whisper. “What did you say?” She waves you off and gives her head a little shake. “What is going on?” she asks, her eyes turning softer. She puts his glass of wine down and fully turns to you.

“Nothing,” you quickly answer. Too quickly probably. She raises one brow at you and parts her lips, but you are quicker.

“I am close to my cycle I believe. I am just not feeling too well. I will head home now. It is best if I get some sleep, the past days have been quite exhausting.” You put your glass down and wipe your hands down your dress, smoothing it out or rather getting the sweat that has started to form on your palms off. “Are you sure? The spirits are about to start travelling.” “Yes, more than sure. I have seen this quite some times already and it will be the same next year. I don’t mind missing it this year.”

And yes…yes, you run down all the dreadful steps that lead up to the House of Wind. You can barely feel your legs, the pain in your heart so much more potent and drowning out everything else.

The journey back home becomes a blur. Storming into your room you already started pulling at the strings of your dress, finally wanting to get out of it. This beautiful dress that no longer feels beautiful. It feels too tight, scratchy somehow. It has the same colour as Azriel's siphons, you have chosen it…Cauldron, yes, you have chosen it for Azriel. And now you hate it. Loathe it.

Your fingers claw at the laces and straps until you finally manage to rip the dress off your body and toss it into the room, stumbling over your heels while you step over it. You slip out of them as well, now just standing in your undergarments. 

You head for the bathroom, needing to cool down. You splash cold water into your face, letting a sob you have been holding in for minutes finally escape. The sound of it hollows of the walls, reverberates through your body and fully cracks your heart open. Your soul feels so empty, so dead, the feeling so dull. It feels like someone had cut a thread and now your soul would never find a way to happiness ever again. 

Your lower lip still trembles when you stare into your face through the mirror. Your knuckles turn white from how tightly you are holding onto the sink. Obviously he would never fall for you. You are a good three centuries younger than him. And most importantly, he sees you as his spy, as someone who works for him, but he would never see you as a love interest, as his lover. But why is there this connection between the two of you? Why has this connection existed since the very first day?

A single tear rolls down your cheek, landing in the sink. You stare at your eyes, those eyes that would never be as beautiful as Gwyn’s. You have always liked her, she was always like an older sister to you when your first arrived here and now she is stealing your…your…your nothing. You bring one hand up to smack it over your forehead. Azriel is your boss that is it. He is nothing more or less.

You hear your own breathy sob hollow in the bathroom when you wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand. You breathing is ragged, air wheezing in and out of your lungs while you try to calm down. This is all so stupid. You are so stupid, you think to yourself. How could you have ever had hopes for this male? How could you have ever thought that Azriel would really fall in love with you? With someone like you when there were all those stunning females right in front of him.

You grind your teeth together, trying to think of anything other than Azriel. Every thought just jumps right back to him, how he was laughing, how happy he looked. It still hurts, your chest still aches, your soul still feels dark and cold, empty. 

Your soul isn’t the only one yearning. Sadness is etched into his features when Azriel’s gaze longingly travels through the room. 

Weren't you at the celebration earlier, wearing that stunning midnight blue dress? The spymaster does not want to make his searching for you too obvious, but he can't really focus when an uneasy feeling appears in his belly. Somehow like he can feel your hurt. Like he can feel that you are not well.

“And so I kissed him back. And it was beautiful because he gave me a choice and made me feel loved and respected in my decision,” Gwyn finishes her sentence, giggling softly, eyes gleaming with bliss. Azriel turns to her, raising a brow.

Gwyn swats at his arm. “Don't tell me you haven’t been paying attention the whole time.” Reproach laces her features while she shakes her head at the shadowsinger. 

“I did listen to your story, Gwyn. And I think it is really nice that you kissed,” Azriel mumbles, shortly looking past the priestess, trying to make out if you maybe are in the kitchen with Nuala. 

“What is going on, Azriel?” The spymaster shrugs a shoulder, shadows curling tightly around him. “Nothing,” he breathes and Gwyn rolls her eyes. It reminds the spymaster of you. His heart cracks a little bit because he shouldn’t be thinking of you. He should never be thinking of you. You work for him, he is at least three centuries older and—

Not once did he allow himself to pleasure himself to the thought of you. One time he thought about it for a split second and then was grossed out about himself. He is still disgusted about himself that he thinks about you in way that is more than just…friendly. He likes you, but he also knows that he can never love you. It simply would not be wrong…everyone would think he has only wanted you to work for him for the purpose of wooing you or making you his lover. He saw your potential on the first day and knew that he wanted you as his spy as you were simply great. Still are. 

But then, unfortunately, the feelings came in, his heart skipping an extra beat every time he sees you.

But what worries him the most: wouldn’t you be disgusted by this whole thing? This old male drooling after you?

Azriel has been pondering about these questions for months, years maybe. There have never been these feelings until a few years ago. Until some time ago when you came home form a mission…hurt. You had several broken ribs, a bloody face and slashes over your abdomen. Azriel was out of his mind, his heart splintering when he saw you and he knew in that moment that things between the two of you have changed. That he was so worried and broken to see you like this because you are more to him than just his spy. 

To him you are the most stunning and breathtaking female Azriel has ever come across. 

But you work for him, you have escaped Illyria and the Illyrian brutes, loving you now, wanting to be with you, this could not happen. It would be too twisted, too strange, too out of place. 

You probably only see him as your boss, the High Lord’s spymaster, the shadowsinger. Because that is what he is, and only this and never ever anything else or more, Azriel thinks. 

Absently, Azriel rubs his scarred palm over his chin, only then realising that he still hasn’t answered Gwyn.

“Nothing, I think I am just tired. Thank you for your concern,” Azriel quickly says, meeting Gwyn’s worried expression. Her hand once again moves to his lower arm, squeezing softly. “What is going on with you lately, you always seem so absent. So…sad,” Gwyn queries, her eyes soft, empathetic.

“Nothing. It really is just that I am tired. Work was exhausting these past weeks.”

Yes, work has indeed been exhausting. But not because of the work itself, but because Azriel constantly found himself distracted. It was either you sauntering into the room with a big, stunning grin on your face, you giggling or talking while you were discussing missions, you teasing him during training, simply you! 

But there could never be more between the two of you. He could never openly love you and you could never have a relationship, that is clear. And that hurt. And it hurts so gods damn much, it nearly tears the spymaster's chest apart.

“Have you seen Y/N somewhere?” Azriel then asks, rather out of the blue as they have actually formerly been talking about his well-being. 

“Y/N?” Gwyn asks and spins around on her heels. She looks around in the living room and shrugs her shoulders. “She has been here earlier, maybe she is getting herself something to drink? Why are you asking?” A small smile blooms on her face, her feature not giving anything away though.

“Just curious,” Azriel answers and takes a sip from his drink.

“She is doing so great during training, don’t you think?” Gwyn chimes in. And yes, you are doing amazing during training. Gods, Azriel is so in admiration of—

“Yes, she does.” “I bet she would have been a great Valkyrie if you hadn’t stole her away to become your spy,” Gwyn chuckles and nudges the spymaster with her elbow. 

Azriel bows his head and smiles. 

You don’t show up for the rest of the evening, or night, which has Azriel going close to mad. What has happened to you? Mor, already slightly tipsy from the fairy wine, only says as much as you did not feel well and obviously Azriel blames this on him. Did he do something wrong?

He has noticed that you have slightly changed around him, sometimes acting a bit shy and nervous when he caught you looking at him. But mostly you still were your sassy, confident self, so what could be the reason for you leaving early? Did you really just not feel well? Were you ill?

Those questions still haunt him later that night when he is lying in bed, arms crossed behind his head, throat dry, a thousand thoughts coursing through his mind. He definitely doubted his rationality. 

You have left the Illyrian war camps only to fall into his…grasp. 

He could not allow that. This was twisted and wrong, he could not have those thoughts, those feelings, for you. Loving you, wanting you, aching for you was off limits. He could never allow himself that. Never.

The spymaster’s sleep is uneasy, he does not find rest, his heart beating sadly in his chest, his shadows unruly, finding not rest either. And many times he questions why he has agreed to family breakfast the next morning which would obviously be held at the Riverside House. 

“All packed?” Azriel lifts his gaze to you, heart sinking when he takes in the dark circles under your eyes. 

The words leave his mouth before he can stop himself. “Where are you going?” 

He has not sent you on a mission and has not given you a day off, so where the hell where you going? A crease appears on his forehead when he swallows the lump in his throat and he feels the High Lord’s gaze on him, but his eyes are trained on you. On you only. 

The spymaster watches your throat work on a swallow when you slowly meet his gaze. “I will take a few days off work, I am sorry for only informing you now. I am going to the Day Court to pay Elain, Lucien and Iris a visit.” Although your hands tremble at your sides, your voice comes out steady, strong. 

Through working with Nuala and Cerridwen and eventually becoming friends with them you have also befriended the middle Archeron sister, you would now pay a visit. You just have to get out–get away from here. 

Your gazes stay locked, something like sorrow glistening in Azriel’s eyes. Has he hurt you somehow? he questions himself. Your demeanor is so different. You don’t smile at him, you don’t tease him, you don’t even smile at your parents. 

Has he made a wrong move? Is it because he touched you during training? Did he touch you too much? Somewhere where you felt uncomfortable? Was this because in the war camps those Illyrian brutes did touch you as well and now he was nothing better than them?

Disgust fills him once again, the back of his mouth tasting bitter when he grits his teeth and averts his gaze. 

“Tell them all the best from us,” Feyre hums, finally fetching you both back to reality. You have been wondering if he has spent the night with Gwyn, if they went to his place together. Or if he kissed her goodbye. 

“I will. Thank you. Good bye!” 

By the huge bag you are carrying Azriel can tell that you will be going for longer. The sheer thought of not having you here does something to him. He swallows the rising sorrow, stuffing another piece of egg into his mouth, his gaze drawn to the table. 

You cannot look at him either when you leave the room, waving the others goodbye.

Days pass and you love it at the Day Court, but still you find yourself caught in thoughts many times. You bounce a happily giggling Iris on your lap when Elain slides into the seat next to you, narrowing her eyes and placing her hand on your shoulder. 

“And now you tell me what is going on with you.” It is a statement not a question. She is so good at that–probably one of her seer abilities, seeing right through you. In the past days you have acted like everything is fine, but apperently she has seen right through your lie.

“I think I am in love with someone…”

“Why such a grim face then? This is beautiful, love is beautiful,” Elain hums, her eyes soft and warm. You shrug and Elain rolls her eyes. “Ugh, don’t tell me that that he leaves far away or something and you barely have a chance to see him. Did you meet him on a mission?”

A soft laugh escapes you and you give your head a tiny shake. “No, that is not it. Really. It is all just complicated.” “What is complicated?” Elain asks, softly stroking your shoulder with her thumb.

“Love is complicated. Crazy, stupid love,” you grumble and focus back on Iris who happily taps her feet on your thighs, giggling and squealing. You lift and lower her once, squeezing her slightly, grinning. 

“You want to tell me who it is?” You shake your head again. “I appreciate this. And I am really thankful, but—“ “Nothing but, it is perfectly fine. You don’t have to tell me. Just know that I am always here if you need someone to talk to.” You turn your head slightly, smiling at the Archeron sister and bowing your head. “I know, thank you.”

For a moment you deliberate about just telling her, but you know that when you say it, it would just complicate things because then she would always question you how you felt concerning…Azriel. And you do not want that. You don’t want anyone to know.

You have no time to ponder any longer, the moment of being caught in your thoughts soon gets interrupted by Lucien strolling inside the room. Not only Lucien, there is tall figure, veiled in shadows behind him. Azriel’s presence immediately fills the room, your breathing halting when your gaze moves to his, meeting, locking. 

His hair is ruffled, disheveled, his eyes empty when his lips part. “We need to talk.”

Part II

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feel free to leave some feedback. I love to hear what you say💙

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag): @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra��@j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke

[jihyocentric]

Could we get some hung!sana who is super confident in her abilites to make anyone feel good and jihyo just kinda scoffs at that so sana offers a bet. If she cant give jihyo the best sex shes ever had shell do whatever jihyo wants for her for a week. But if she does prove herself she gets to fuck jihyo whenever she wants for a week. Jihyo ends uo squirting which shes never done before

jihyo’s ego was too big — but she wasn’t ready to admit it.

it all starts when jihyo fatefully laughs at sana, earlier in the week. somehow jihyo ended up having to listen to sana bragging about her sex skills for long, long minutes. the laugh that came out of jihyo's mouth between sana's speech was what put her in this situation.

dizzy. trembling. gasping for air in anticipation whenever sana pulled out and went down on her, making her back arch, grasp sana’s head to pull her even closer, indulging into sana's hunger, as if getting fucked and eaten out for hours wasn’t enough.

as much as her pride would keep that information locked deep inside her chest, jihyo regrets underestimating sana.

she all but screams, uncaring of the neighbors who might be disturbed by the never stopping noise at such a late hour. she couldn't bring herself to care when sana’s face was buried between her legs, sucking and licking and biting her, making jihyo come for the nth time in shameful seconds.

sana laughs at the taste she feels in her mouth and the way jihyo clenches around her tongue, the sound muffled against jihyo’s pussy. jihyo holds back a whine, because sana was too amused. sana slides her tongue the deepest she can in her pussy, feeling the bitter taste of her cum and jihyo’s sweet juices all combined.

jihyo didn’t let her come inside at first, and what was left of her first load was still shining over her tummy. after the first wasted load, jihyo changed her mind, and the second load was still right where sana left it — buried deep in her pussy.

“mmh, so pretty like this, park.” sana laughs softly, pulling away from jihyo’s thighs — not before leaving a small kiss on her skin and a playful bite. “looks like i’m gonna have an interesting week.”

“following my orders, of course.” jihyo manages to let out without a single stutter, despite her body still spasming under sana, legs still open, willing to let sana in again.

“oh, is that so, darling?” sana coos, her hand wandering against the smooth skin between jihyo’s breasts, licking her lips at the way her nipples harden even more, clearly reactive to the teasing. “why don’t you get on your fours for me?”

jihyo wants to say no — and it’s not only because sana looks so irritatingly smug, but because she doesn’t think her weak knees can handle the position, still feeling the aftereffects of sana driving her into overwhelming orgasms over and over again.

she bravely gets on her hands and knees, never quitting so easily. while jihyo was sore, trembling, and on the verge of coming again, sana was only just beginning.

“you know…” sana starts, slapping jihyo’s ass, bringing a pink hue to her skin. “didn’t think you’d r-really take this much cock,” she pushes her shaft inside, sliding in fully. her cum and jihyo’s slick made it all easier, and she’d previously stretched her up. “since you’re like… small and all...”

the way sana talked about it so casually, between gasps as she eased inside, brought color to jihyo’s face.

“oh my god, shut up!” jihyo mutters, letting out a pitiful whine once sana is fully sheathed inside.

“so tight, hyo.” sana hums, pushing jihyo’s torso down carefully. “keep your ass up for me, baby.”

jihyo keeps her head against the pillow while sana holds her waist up. sana had been incredibly tender, but equally relentless and rough — a perfect combination of everything jihyo likes, making her eyes roll and toes curl with the amount of pleasure she was given.

much to jihyo’s annoyance, she couldn’t even try to hide how badly she was enjoying sex with sana.

“sana,” jihyo whines, and her voice comes out much softer than she intends to. “fuck!”

it’s all blinding when sana takes off again.

sana never forgets to touch her, sliding in and out in sharp thrusts while playing with jihyo’s body, grabbing her tits and her ass, slipping a hand between jihyo’s thighs to play with her swollen clit, loving the way she cried out, clearly too lost in her pleasure to care about her pathetic reactions.

“want me to fill you up again?” sana coaxes an answer out of her, lips brushing against jihyo’s neck, resisting the urge to leave marks. “you feel so ready to have it...”

jihyo clenches hard around sana, clawing at the sheets, breathless when the orgasm hits her abruptly.

“sana!” jihyo lets out a loud moan, pushing sana away from her, an intense feeling probing at her stomach.

jihyo doesn’t fully know what happens, but the pleasure she feels is numbing. she cries, holding the sheets tightly in her fists, her thighs getting wet as well as sana’s sheets under her, her body falling weakly against the bed, blissfully sated.

it takes sana a full minute to process what happened, and even longer for jihyo to comprehend what she'd just done.

“oh,” sana laughs slyly, patting jihyo’s ass, satisfied with the whimper she hears. “that was so hot! do you do it often? think you can do it again?”

jihyo swallows thickly, considering lying to her — but telling sana the truth and having mind blowing sex with her all week seems way more tempting.

[amrass]

Fanfiction updates and excerpts 06.16.24

Happy summer, everyone! The worst season lol. Late spring was intense and I'm still recovering, but we're experiencing a lot of nice rain, and I am engorging myself on coffee and books :)

I miiight open up for RDR2 oneshot requests sometime later this summer or early autumn, under a collection - or a fic at Ao3, most likely - called Barbwired Tumbleweed. So watch this space!  

As always, most of the fics underneath the cut are explicit and rather dark, with a focus on Morbell and Drisbell.

Main projects: 

Salt part 16+. Colm/Micah. Sugar daddy AU. Dark.

While carrying a large barrel of moonshine of his wiry, but considerably strong body, Toothpick paused beside Micah. He looked him over from head to toe, making him feel weirdly slimy.

"What do you want?" 

"Oh nothing, really. Just admiring Colm's taste, that's all."

"Not everyone can fuck their way to the top," Daniel commented, breaking the staring contest between them. Micah snarled at the implications, lighting himself a smoke and breathing like a dragon.

"That puts you two boys in the same boat, doesn't it? One boy for each brother. Oh, I like our bosses, I really, really do."

.

The Lost and the Lethal part 3. Gen? Biker AU in the 90s.

"Listen," Hosea began. "Bringing back this bad stuff with Annabelle, it's obviously meant to antagonize you."

"Damn right it antagonizes me," Dutch muttered.

"Only if you let it," Hosea said, tone sharp until the Duke meowed in irritation. Hosea petted him and said, more quietly, "You're good at ignoring Arthur when he's had too much to drink, no matter how much crap he comes up with. Use some of that skill for this." 

"Hey," Arthur said, feeling less like a sergeant at arms sitting between the president and vice president of a biker club, and more like a kid dragged into the quarrel of his parents.

.

These Days part 3. Arthur/Micah. Biker AU in the 00s.

He turned the water to its coldest setting. He'd done that often, before, so he didn't expect the dizziness when it came. Nearly falling, he grasped the wall to keep his balance. 

Legs shaking, he glared at the shower chair. 

"Fuck you," he said, and then laughed at himself for cursing a piece of furniture. The laughter was bitter, and he didn't let go off the wall. If shower chairs could gaze, this one did so somberly and purply. 

.

Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill. Arthur/Micah. A sequel to Through the Wilderness. Micah is a bounty hunter, hunted by Arthur, who has survived TB through the method of artificial lung collapse. Dark.

"But I guess that was a while ago. Last time I saw you, I didn't think you'd pull through! All skin and bones now, but better than all blood and coughs. Is it true that they cut out one of your lungs? Leave it up to a creature like you to beat a thing that kills most men. Better men, some would say. Not me." 

Let that silver-tongued bastard talk. Let him stall the massacre in the saloon. Let him put fuel to Arthur's rage so it'll burn them both.

"My boys tell campfire stories about you, you know. They say you take the shape of a big black dog, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the scent of blood. Can you smell it right now? We're planning to do some hunting soon. We're real good at it, too, cause you've been picking off the boys who ain't worthy of following me."

.

Slug. O'Driscoll Gang/Micah. Biker AU in the 80s. VERY DARK.

"Easy, baby," Toothpick says as if cutting the hair of a pet, not slicing up boxers. As soon as he steps back to look at his handiwork, Micah closes his thighs and pulls his knees to the side, hating to be exposed. The position remains awkward, all the duct tape on him leaving him in a sort of standing kneel rather than anything stable.

"Adorable." Toothpick puts the knife back in his boot. He begins toying with the waistline of the sweatpants, showing off the outline of an erection. Slowly, he reveals himself only to hide himself again, like he's teasing a lover with something wanted.

Cheeks burning, Micah wants to look away, but the tape keeps his head fixed in place. He's vaguely aware of Prince Albert piercings being a thing, but he's never seen one in person until now.

"You like it?" A step closer. Every muscle in Micah's body tenses. "It doesn't have to hurt," Toothpick croons. "Will it be your first? I like introducing boys to this very important part of life."

.

LOL what an excerpt to end with ... Ngl Slug might be my best work. Anyway, that's it! I'll probably be working on these until autumn :)

Hope you're all are doing great!

[coffeeangelinabox]

Whumpril #6: Dizziness

“We know there were more of you,” the guard’s frustration morphs to aggressive. “You think the Domain doesn’t keep records!?” His boot impacts Cyrus’ midriff once more, and he can’t help it. He curls, whimpering and retching, tears springing to his eyes. 

“Just us,” he chokes out. “You caught my brothers. There’s no one else.”

Another kick and this time the toe of the boot digs into the bruise left on his sternum. “Do you want me to get an interrogator? Is that it? A beating not good enough for the great Cyrus Porter, you want us to flay your mind open.”

No. He really, really doesn’t want that. He’s reasonably sure he’s got cracked ribs. Another good kick might break them, and if he can get the guard to shake him…lung punctures, internal bleeding. It won’t be quick and it’ll be damn painful, but it’ll be over. To judge by the dizziness, he’s already been kicked in the head a few times, the lack of remembering such a thing only adding to its likelihood. If he can annoy this guard enough, it might even be quick. But it’s a fine line to walk, riling him enough to get brutally murdered in a filthy cell without pushing him far enough to make him want to watch Cyrus suffering under the handsknivesdrugs of an expert. 

“No,” he rasps, and almost asks for water and doesn’t. Weakness and dehydration can only be to his benefit. “No…and I don’t think you want to waste an interrogator’s time, either. I can’t imagine they take that too well.”

The guard reaches down, digging fists into the collar of the filthy jump suit and hauls Cyrus up. He’s not a small man, nor a light one. Only one of his eyes will still open, the other swelled shut with bruising, and the sudden elevation change makes the pain in his head and the accompanying sick wooziness increase. Still, he looks the guard over as appraisingly as he can. 

“Enhanced?” he asks, mockery colouring his tone. 

The shake he receives rattles his teeth. 

“Of course not, I’m not filthy like you!”

“You’re barely taller than my niece,” Cyrus retorts. “Enhancements or steroids, but there’s no way you should be dragging me around. I haven’t been here that long.” He pauses. Turns the taunting up another notch. “Compensating for something.”

Instead of the fury he had expected (hoped for) and the slam into a wall that might put a bone through an organ and end all this, the guard merely smiles. He takes one hand off Cyrus, fastidiously dusting off the jump suit, straightening wrinkles. He walks him back to his bed, pushes him into a seated position at the end of it and smirks down at him. 

“Only you three in that whole complex?” he asks.

“Yep.”

The three Porter brothers and no one else?”

“That’s right.”

“And their names are..?”

A secret there’s no point in keeping, they’d been walked out with him, forced to their knees alongside him. He’d had to listen to Hamish begging them not to shoot Romulus, not to separate them. Then darkness. Then here. 

“Hamish and Romulus,” he grits out. He can pretend to cooperate on this at least. If the guard thinks he’s giving up everything he can, well…

He really really doesn’t want to be given to the Domain’s interrogators. 

“So where’s this niece then?”

Cyrus’ heart stops in his chest. Of all the stupid- Oh, he blames what it is quickly becoming clear is a concussion for the error, but even so. He should be better than this. Should have known. 

“She…” he grinds his sluggish brain into action, even as the room spins and sways, the guard blurring. “She died. It’s not like known rebels can go to the hospital for injuries sustained during raids.”

The guard nods understandingly. 

Cyrus slams his eyes shut. The guards movement in opposition to the movement his scrambled brain is superimposing over the whole lot and making him feel even sicker. Behind his closed eyes rises an image of Rosie. Hamish’s girl literally, but they’d all raised her. Cyrus sees her now as the tiny girl she’d been a decade ago. Hair as black as nightshade tangled to her waist, always with smears and smudges on her face and clothes, cuffs rolled up because nothing ever fit, talking a mile a minute as a new project or idea occurred to her, and her endless interminable questions. 

But whyyyyyyyy, Uncle Cyrus. 

She’d be safe, she’d be safe no matter what he had to endure to make it so. Romulus swore up and down that Darrow was trustworthy, and they went way back to Romulus’ own army days, so he has to hold out, has to give her time to clear the system, to buy a new identity, to leave them all behind.

“If I ask the others about this niece of yours, will they tell me the same?” The guard sounds bored. He knows Cyrus is lying. 

“Yeah.” No. Hamish at least will never be able to lie that his daughter is dead. He’d choke on the words.

“Alright,” the guard feigns belief. “I’ll ask them. But if I hear anything different, I’m going to come right back here and start cutting parts off until you tell me the truth.”

“‘Kay.” He knows his disinterest sounds like bravado, but the room is whirling so much now that the guard’s voice sounds like it’s coming from the other end of a long tunnel. He’s barely clinging to consciousness. 

The cell door clangs. 

Run, Rosie. Don’t look back.

[practically-an-x-man]

Prompt, if you'd like...

"How do I get down from here?"

"Scared of heights?"

"More afraid of falling, but yeah."

Okay, I think I've got something!! I've been wanting to start writing Kate and Gia, anyway...

(I did cut out the first line of the prompt but it worked better for the scene)

____ Bird's Eye View

Content Warnings: Depiction of heights Word Count: 1.5k

____

"Kate?"

"Hm?"

"You know my balance is shit, right?" She'd tried for humor, but humor didn't work so well when her voice wavered like a leaf in the breeze.

Gia took another hesitant step forward, curling the toes of her right foot into the concrete shelf below her as if she could cling to it like a gecko. Her left foot was much less helpful. Maybe if she had some flashy tech like she saw on TV...

No. She wouldn't go there. Flashy tech made her think of HYDRA, and that made the trembling worse. She'd stick with her safe, ordinary aluminum.

"You'll be fine. It's not as hard as it looks." Kate called back to her, already ten steps ahead, "And it's worth it, I promise."

She managed another step, forcing herself not to look down. She couldn't tell which was worse: the moment where she stepped with her right foot and all her weight was briefly put on her prosthetic, where she couldn't feel the security of the concrete below her, or the way she had to shift her hips to get her other leg caught up and momentarily lost the wall at her back.

This was, in no uncertain terms, a terrible fucking idea.

Gia shuffled along, trying to urge herself just a little faster so she could catch up with Kate ahead of her. Instead, the toe of her prosthetic caught the concrete funny - she wasn't sure if that was a rough patch on the ledge or just her own lack of kinesthesia - and her balance lurched.

The ground veered and loomed below her, apartment windows glinting like the eyes of wolves seen deep in the forest. Her breath caught in her throat, and she threw her weight back hard enough that her spine slammed into the wall behind her. Her heart thundered in her ears, so fast it made her a little dizzy.

Her fingers scraped at the wall behind her, about the only thing still holding her upright. This was why she didn't leave the house. This was why she especially didn't go climbing along the skyline a hundred feet up, with only one good leg and absolutely zero climbing skills, following a woman whose principal skill was getting herself into trouble...

Gia fixed her eyes on the sky, forcing a breath through her seizing lungs. It helped a little. The sky never really changed, she thought. It always looked the same distance away. She could almost pretend she was still on the ground.

"G? You okay?"

She shook her head, still clinging to the wall with everything she had.

"Scared of heights?" Kate's voice had grown a lot closer, but Gia couldn't bring herself to pull her eyes away from the clouds above her.

"More- more afraid of falling," she stammered, having to chew the words like a tough hunk of gristle just to get them past her throat, "But yeah."

And what would happen if you did fall, hm? a voice reminded her, way off in the back of her mind, You'd scare the shit out of Kate, yeah, but the clover would put you back together. It's not like this would kill you. HYDRA tested heights, remember? Wouldn't want another one of their little projects sinking to the bottom of a river.

But it would hurt, she told that voice, I could lose another limb. And how do you know it would put me back together the right way this time?

You're right, the voice ceded, It would hurt. But you've been through worse. Really, you should be worried about Kate. She wouldn't survive a fall like that if she slipped. You would.

Gia couldn't tell if that was meant to console her or not. It only really served to make things worse. Her mind had a very bad habit of doing that.

"Gia?" Kate asked from beside her, concern wavering her voice almost as much as Gia's own, "Hey, look at me."

"I'm good here."

"It's only like ten more steps. You can do it."

"Kate. I really, really don't think I can."

That drew a sigh from her, a tangle of frustration and concern, and then she found warm fingers coaxing her death-grip off the wall. Gia's eyes finally left the clouds, though it took a Herculean effort to find Kate's face instead of the dizzying landscape around her.

"Think of it this way, right?" Kate tried, offering her a shadow of a smile, "It's ten steps if you go forward, but twenty steps to get back. So it's easier to keep going."

"But then- then we have to get back." she pointed out, "Which makes it forty steps." Gia spared a second glance at the sky, its blue gradually deepening above her. "In the dark."

"There's an easier way down," Kate promised, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "I promise. We just can't get up that way."

"How easy?"

"It's an elevator. So... 'stand and push buttons' easy." she said, "We just can't get up that way because of the bouncer in the lobby. But he's there to stop people from getting in, not getting out."

"I think they're called security guards."

"Same thing." Kate shot back, but there was the faintest glimmer of relief in her tone. She turned her head, surveying the concrete shelf ahead of her, then looked back at Gia. "Ten more steps, G. Then we're there. You can do it. I won't let you fall."

And how would she stop you? that traitorous corner of her mind chimed in, right on schedule, Either you fall alone or you pull her down with you. Which one's worse?

Or I just don't fall, she thought back, Or I make it ten more steps and see whatever Kate has for me on the other side.

It was about the closest she could ever come to telling that little voice to shut up, but it worked well enough for her to manage a nod and another step. Kate moved along with her, keeping a loose grip on her hand and matching the glacial pace she set.

One slow, careful step. One little kip of the other leg - an almost unconscious maneuver on solid ground, but terrifying at this height - to get her prosthetic caught up. Repeat ad nauseam.

She didn't know how long it took her, but the sky had darkened another two shades by the time she reached the end of the ledge. Kate stepped down first, hopping past a railing and onto a simple balcony below her.

"You can sit down and kinda shuffle forward - that's what I did the first couple times," Kate said, looking up at her, "Or step down and I'll catch you."

Sitting down was a lot of the same process walking was, these days: simple, next to unconscious, while she was in an ordinary environment, but much more of a challenge when standing on a thin concrete shelf far too many stories in the air. It involved shifting her balance, working around the rigidity of her prosthetic and the same lack of kinesthesia from a leg that wasn't there, and it wasn't always the most graceful maneuver.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Gia stepped off the platform. Kate's hands caught her waist just as she started to feel the pull of gravity, and then her feet were on the balcony below. Kate held on for an extra moment or two, making sure she was steady (though how could she be steady with a beautiful woman barely a foot away?) then released her with a quick step back.

"And we're here." she said, waving a hand at the balcony around them, "You did it."

Gia took a look around, simultaneously trying to will her heart to slow down. The balcony was both upscale and strangely desolate, like it was the penthouse of a millionaire who'd died before he could move in. There was a hot tub built into the far corner, or the bone-dry husk of what looked like a hot tub, but no other furniture in sight. The glass door into the building was broken, patched with duct tape and a black trash bag.

"We didn't just break into somebody's apartment, did we?"

"Nah, this place has been abandoned for like two years," Kate replied, utterly casual as she draped her arms over the balcony railing, "Don't know why they'd give up a view like that, though."

It was a spectacular view. Almost worth the terror of getting up here- almost. The sun had begun its descent below the horizon, wreathed in the silhouettes of skyscrapers and painting the sky in swathes of coral and gold. Far below, Gia could see cars and people bustling along - the view that had been so terrifying minutes before was now close to enrapturing, now that she had a railing to hold onto.

"What do you think?" Kate asked, with a not-so-subtle slide up to her side, "Worth it?"

"Worth it." Gia agreed, and summoned up the last few threads of her courage to lean her head onto Kate's shoulder. That, if not the view itself, made the whole struggle worth it. Mostly. "But don't make me do that again."

[feralghxuls]

here's a snippet of this. it hurts. it's about aether staying behind :) and dew finding out from Not Aether :)

Dew stands quietly in the center of the room. Feet shoulder-width apart, hands behind his back. Shoulders squared. Eyes boring into Aether. He's silent, nothing unusual about his posture, but all of it is deafeningly loud. Aether tries to ignore it as he closes the door behind him, but it's impossible with the way the distinct feeling that he's done something wrong crashes through him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Dew demands. His voice is loud in the silent room, harsh and bitter, threatening to crack with the force he puts into the words. The words he speaks out loud. In Ghoulish. Instead of using the telepathic link they share, like he always does. Aether's heart cracks as he turns slowly, resisting the urge to press his back against the door, his ears flattening against his head. 

He barely gets half a word out before Dew is speaking again. Speaking isn't really the right word for it, though; spitting, more like. Hissing. There's violence in his words. 

"Aether." He hates the way his name sounds in Dew's mouth right now. It makes his skin crawl and his stomach turn inside out. "What the fuck is wrong with you. Did you think I wouldn't find out? It wasn't important enough for you to tell me yourself? I had to hear it from fucking ChAir!" 

His voice doesn't rise in volume, only intensity, but it leaves Aether's ears ringing anyway. He opens his mouth to defend himself, confused and hurt because he's not really sure what Dew is talking about. 

"Shut up. I don't care what you have to say now. You missed your chance for talking. It's been a fucking week, Aether. And not once did you think, 'oh, I should probably tell my fucking mate this very important piece of information!'" Dew's voice rises now, loud enough by the end that it rings in the corners of the room when he pauses. His tail lashes once, a controlled, tight movement. His head tips to the side, gaze firey and freezing cold as he rakes it over him. "You don't smell guilty enough. You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?" 

Aether doesn't bother trying to respond. His heart can't decide if it wants to sink into his toes or take up residence in his throat, and has somehow managed to do both. And also race at double speed, pumping adrenaline through his veins so fast it's making him dizzy. He tries to plead with Dew instead, eyes wide, tail tucked and curled around his thigh. 

Dew scoffs. A harsh, brutal sound that makes Aether flinch. He smells worse now. Far worse. Like he did in those first days after his transformation ritual. Aether swallows hard, and it tastes like bile. 

"Whatever. Fuck you." Dew drops the words like individual, searing pennies right into the center of Aether's chest. He steps forward, two strides covering the distance between them and he's less than an arm's length away, staring icily up at Aether. He can see the hurt in his eyes, and he still has no idea what Dew is talking about. 

"Move." 

Aether sidesteps automatically, barely processing the command before his body is moving and it doesn't sink in that Dew is leaving until he pulls the door open, a sharp, rigid movement. This close, it's clear to see the tension written in every line of Dew's body, and he wants to beg him to stay, to tell him what he's done wrong, but he's frozen, unable to move or speak.

[canirove]

Bluebell | Chapter 13

Author's note: And after Christmas, we are back to our usual schedule! Thank you very much for reading my imagines and for all the likes and reblogs, especially on the one with Mason! Something related to it may be in the works... 👀

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"You are coming. End of the story."

"Lindsey, I thought I was your boss."

"At Daisy's, yes. But when it comes to socializing, I am in charge. And I already rented the costumes, so" she shrugs.

This year the town is throwing a New Year's Eve party for "the younger folk" on the high school's gym, and it is a costumes party. The buzz around town for the past week has been crazy, everyone talking about what they are going to wear so no one repeats an outfit.

"Please tell me they are nice costumes. Nothing like sexy nurse or something like that."

"Nah, I keep those for Halloween. Though these ones are kind of sexy, because we are wearing a corset that will put our boobs on our throats."

"We are supposed to make it to the new year, not die before it even starts" I chuckle.

"We'll be fine. Trust me" Lindsey says with a wink.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━        

"You look so hot."

"And any minute now, purple. Did you really need to make it so tight?" I say, trying to move the corset so I can breath a bit better.

"It'll start to get loose, you'll see."

"Wow, girls. Wow."

"Hi, Dec."

"You both look stunning!"

"We or our boobs? Because you can't stop looking at them" Lindsey says.

"Both? Or should I say... The four of you? No, wait, six. Math isn't my thing."

"What are you dressed as?" I ask him before Lindsey hits him.

"Real Madrid David Beckham" he says, showing us the back of his shirt.

"Oh, so that's why you are wearing that horrible wig."

"It's not that bad" he says, touching it. "I may let my hair grow like this."

"No! Don't you dare do that to your hair" I say. "You know I am its biggest fan."

"I won't touch it, your majesty" he says with a bow.

"Oh, wow" Ben says behind him. Ben, and Mason.

"What are you two dressed as?" Lindsey asks them, trying not to laugh.

"I've forgotten, I'm too distracted" Ben says, his eyes focused on the same place where Declan's were.

"He is Manchester United Beckham, and I am England National Team Beckham" Mason says. He only has eyes for me, though they are going from head to toe and back again, making me feel goosebumps everywhere.

"Interesting idea" Lindsey says.

"What about you?" Ben asks us.

"Can't you tell, bro? They are Marie Antoinette and Anne Boleyn!" Declan says, pointing first at Lindsey and then at me.

"Oh..." Ben says.

"Really, Benjamin? Declan knows who we are, and you don't?" I say.

"You are... Queens, right?"

"Queens who lost their heads" Lindsey points out.

"You look beautiful" Mason says, still looking just at me.

"Thank you" I reply.

"Anyway, why don't we go find us some drinks, uh? What do their majesties want?" Ben asks.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━        

"Come, let's dance" Mason says, grabbing my good hand.

"Just don't spin me like crazy like you always do, ok? I don't want to end the year feeling all dizzy."

"I'll try not to" he says with a cheeky smile.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━        

"Mason! No spinning!" I say again, laughing. I've lost count of how many times I've told him to stop.

"But look at the way your dress moves!"

"Yeah, the same way the contents of my stomach are moving."

"Always complaining" he says, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer to him while I put my arms around his neck. We are on the same position we were when we first kissed, that same electricity going through us. "Can I ask you something, your majesty?"

"I like how your majesty sounds. It's a lot better than Miss Daisy."

"Nah... It doesn't feel the same. But can I ask you something or not?"

"Go ahead."

"Can I be your last kiss of the year?"

"Yes" I say, speaking before thinking, and completely ignoring the fact that we are surrounded by people and that anyone could see us.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━        

"Girl, finally! Where were you?"

"I was with... Rúben, hi."

"Your majesty" he says, doing a big bow.

"Didn't you get the memo that this was a costumes party?"

"What?" he asks with a confused look.

"You are wearing a suit. You wear a suit almost every day."

"That's what I told him too" Lindsey says.

"This is not a suit, it's a tuxedo. I'm James Bond."

"Oh..." I say, trying not to laugh.

"Don't I look good?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"You always look good, Rúben."

"That's what I thought" he says with a cheeky smile.

"Anyway," Lindsey says "should we get ourselves some champagne before the countdown starts? Or Mr. Bond prefers a Martini?"

"Champagne will be fine, thank you" he replies.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━        

"Three... Two... One... Happy new year!"

"Happy new year, boss!" Lindsey screams while hugging me and kissing me on both cheeks.

"Happy new year!" I scream back.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━        

"I thought she would never leave" Rúben says once Lindsey has gone to talk with some friends.

"Rude" I laugh.

"I just wanted to properly wish you a happy new year with no one bothering us. So happy new year."

"Happy new year, Rúben."

"You have lipstick on your face, I just noticed" he chuckles.

"What?" I say, touching it.

"Let me" he says, licking his thumb and cleaning my face while holding it with the other hand. It's like the first time we kissed, though with lipstick instead of marmalade. And I'm feeling the same, the same warmth going through my body while I pray for my knees to not give up. "Done."

"Really?"

"Really. But can I ask you something?" he says, still holding my face.

"Ok" I whisper.

"Can I be your first kiss of the year?"

I just nod, my ability to speak completely gone.

"You need to talk to me, moving your head isn't enough" he says with a smirk.

"Yes. You can."

"Good girl" he says before leaning forward and kissing me.

[sunnyie-eve]

9 | The Same

Series: No Prince Charming

Paring: Harry Hook x Original female character Princess!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

"Honey, we thought in order to get more VK's to sign up for the program that it would be great if you went over to pass out and hang up the four's posters. Volunteer to show we want to give more a chance as well." Belle tells Bella as she walks into their office.

"You of course would have someone with you for protection just in case something goes wrong with certain VK's." Adam adds.

"Why me and not Ben? It's his thing." She says confused.

"Because you still need to do your duties as the Princess." Belle gives her a look.

"Fine, I'll do it for my brother because I'm a good sister." Bella gives them a fake smile.

"Great, the limo is outside waiting for you."

"Oh, now?" Bella rushes for the door to leave not wanting to make her parents mad.

Arriving at the Isle people watch her get out of the limo. She explains she's there to help spread word about the VK program and passes out flyers and posters to those who wanted to help.

"Princess Isabella." Dizzy goes over to her.

"Dizzy, right? And just call me Bella." Bella gives her a smile.

"Yes, I can't believe King Ben is giving more VK's a chance at living in Auradon." She jumps in joy.

"Well, after seeing how it is here for you guys he wanted to change that for some of you guys." Bella tells her with a smile.

"It's nice you came over to help to get more people to join. It's showing progress of Auradon." Dizzy says so Bella just looks at her for a few seconds.

"It really is thanks to Ben. And me... I'll take a little credit since I put the thought in his head in the very beginning." Bella laughs.

"Well, thank you." Dizzy hugs her so Bella hugs her back.

The two of them work together putting up posters till Dizzy stops, "I don't have any money." Bella looks back confused only to see Harry.

"You steal from younger kids, really?"

"I haven't done it since Uma left. But I hear the Princess was here so I finally found her." He smiles walking closer to them.

"And why are you looking for me? That's a little creepy."

"I was just curious what the Princess was doing here again, but I see this time it's one of her duties and not for fun like last time." He smiles eyeing her head to toe. She was a beauty in his eyes and he loved what he saw. Since he met her, his mind has only been able to think about her wanting to see her again. 

"Exactly, I'm here for my Princess duties and not for fun like last time. So excuse me, I'm quite busy." Bella lets him know, "Dizzy, where's another good spot to put up posters?" Bella turns to her.

"Oh, follow me!" Dizzy takes off so Bella nods her head at Harry leaving to follow Dizzy.

Just like Harry, Bella hasn't been able to get him out of her mind too. Never once back home has a guy ever caught her eye until she ran into him. He was breath taking and what really reeled her in was those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

"How do you know Harry?" Dizzy asks as they put up Evie posters together. 

"When I was here last he kidnapped my brother and the whole time we chatted. Not to mention, I kept stealing from him for fun to pass time." Bella tells her and that was it. 

"Just be careful with him." Dizzy lets her know, "He's a big flirt with anyone he finds attractive." She adds. 

"Get that junk off my pub!" They look over to see a guy tearing down some posters that other kids put. The man turns and points at Bella, "Princess Isabella." He smiles walking over to her. 

"Umm," Bella looks at the man then it hits her, "Gaston." She forces a smile, "My mother says hello." She lies to him.

"She does?" He says surprised.

"She does. She wishes you are doing well. Oh, hey Gil." She feels some relief seeing him. 

"Oh, Bebe! Dad, you met Bella. She's just like her mother, huh?" Gil joins them.

"Looks exactly like her. You have her eyes." 

"Yes, I'm sorry but I have to get back to putting up posters then I have to get going. I promise not to put any on your building. Have a good day." Bella grabs Dizzy's arm to leave. 

"the was awkward." Dizzy tells her.

"No, kidding."

After a few more hours for working it was time for Bella to head back home. She tells dizzy goodbye and can't wait to see her again. As she was getting into limo a hand grabs her wrist making her two guards move Harry away from her.

"I just wanted to give the Princess a gift, gentlemen." He chuckles looking at them.

"It's okay." Bella tells them so Harry walks towards.

"For you." He shows her a red stone ring, "It was my father's. He gave it to me but I want to give it to you. To remember me while you're stuck at home wishing for an adventure." He smiles sliding it on her finger.

"Harry, I can't take you're father's ring as a gift." She tries to give it back to him. 

"Yes, you can Princess. He gave me permission to. Till next time." He kisses the top of her hand before walking off. Bella just gets in the limo to head home so confused about how she felt about Harry. 

Meanwhile back in Auradon, Ben was searching everywhere for his sister, "Father have you seen Bella?" He passes his father passing him in the hall.

"She should be coming back from visiting the Isle to promote your VK program." His father tells him.

"Bella went to the Isle alone?" 

"She had two guards with her incase anything happened. Why are you so worried?" Adam asks confused.

"I just don't exactly trust Hook's son around her. Not to mention he's part of Uma's crew." Ben sighs as Bella shows up. 

"How was the visit, dear?" Adam gives her a smile.

"It was great. Spent the whole time with Dizzy. Just one awkward moment running into Gaston having to talk to him." She laughs a bit.

"You see Harry?" Ben asks.

"No, I didn't see him. Just Gil with his father." She lies to him. "I'm gonna go tell Evie how much I adore Dizzy." She leaves the two to go see Evie at her place. "Evie, guess what I did today?" Bella walks inside.

"Go on a great adventure?" Evie says working on a dress.

"Sorta, I was sent to the Isle by my parents to help get kids to sign up so I spent the whole day working with Dizzy."

"Dizzy? She's so sweet isn't she?" Evie stops working.

"She is. I love her so much." 

"Anything else happen?" Evie takes a seat.

"Awkward conversion with Gaston. I lied saying that my mom says hello." Bella takes a seat too.

"Did you happen to run into a certain pirate who carries around a hook he doesn't need?" Evie smiles at her.

"Maybe but to Ben, I didn't." She makes clear so she doesn't tell Ben.

"And?"

"And what?" Bella laughs.

"Come on, Ben said you two seemed close playing around. And when he came to deliver the message for Mal, the looks between you two..." Evie tries to get something out of her.

"That was nothing. There's nothing there. I was just doing that to annoy him and I don't even know him. And he kidnaped my brother, Evie." Bella explains to her.

"Your father held your mother as a prisoner for awhile when she traded spots with your grandfather. Look now they're married with two kids." Evie makes a point. 

"It's not the same." 

"Isabella." Evie says her name in a tone, "The Beast let Belle go about the castle instead of locked in the dungeon. Harry let you wonder around the ship instead of tied up like Ben. Belle gets along with the nice household objects. You got along with Gil. Despite the Beast being a little rude after saving Belle, she starts to fall for him. Despite Harry being a VK and wanting to hook Ben, you play around with him in a flirty way and open up to him a bit. I say it's the same."

"Are you done?" Bella gives her a look.

"If you admit it, yes." Evie smiles.

"Okay, it's kinda the same. I am my mother." Bella whines, "But this is Harry Hook, it's never going to happen. He's there, I'm here and there's constantly a barrier up."

"And you're the Princess, who has access to go over there anytime you want. Heck, if you want to see what could happen go get to know him. And as a VK who grew up on the Isle with him and knew him... He has his moments but he's also very loyal and protective." Evie lets her know, "Our secret from Ben. As you told me, you don't need a prince."

[pbandjesse]

We just got back to Jess's car after a harrowing train journey home. That was honestly scary. A lot of stuff was a little off today. Just entirely to many people. But I still had a lot of fun.

I was worried though because I absolutely did not sleep well. I couldn't figure out where to put my shoulders andy body just ached. I would end up trying to deal with a hang nail because I was on edge and not able to let stuff go and ripped my entire big toe nail off. Just incredible. And I would have a very very fitful sleep. Just up and down all night.

Jess and James both got up about an hour before me. I'm glad I got that extra little bit because I think it helped make me normal.

When I woke up I went and got washed and dressed right away. And I felt cute. But I was worried about being cold. This ended up not being an issue at all but because I was nervous I wore a long sleeve shirt under my dress. Which I don't think looked amazing but kept me cozy.

I was honestly a little self conscious. Jess was too. I think our saving grace was that we all matched with different dark green plaids and we all liked that.

Today would be a lot of fun at time. Once we were all dressed we took some pictures of Jess and her cat in front of the Christmas tree. And it was a little hard to get LB on board but she would look very cute in the end and I think we got some excellent shots. Once I pulled out her treat jar she looked right at the camera and everything was very cute.

We left the house right before 9. It is about an hourish to the train station. So we had a lot of travel today. It was eerily foggy. But it was not a bad drive. We had some very big laughs. Like when James noted that it was the anniversary of the Ikea monkey. And then we realized I looked like the Ikea money in my new coat. We were cackling and it was great.

We were prepared for New York to have a lot of people and be kind of a nightmare. We did not expect Hamilton, the train station we go to, to be so incredibly busy. The line to get a parking spot was wild. I wasn't sure we were going to make the 10:06 train. But it would end up being just fine.

Even if there were a lot of people. Waiting on the platform was a little overwhelming. But it was fine and the train was only a couple minutes late.

Me and Jess sat together with James sitting behind us. They kept their hand on my arm in the window most of the whole ride. Me and Jess both put headphones on and listened to music to get in the Christmas spirit. I listened to the entire Muppet's Christmas Carol sound track. I would have liked to watch the scenery go by but it was still very foggy so I couldn't see much. I still enjoyed the ride even as the train filled up and people had to stand and complain loudly about standing like that was going to make seats appear.

We arrived in New York right before noon. Jess remarked that when you get to New York you don't actually get to New York until a half hour at minimum. Which is very true. Getting out of pen station and then going to find the subway and getting MetroCards is a whole ordeal. But we navigated really well. And got on the subway without to much effort. The real issue was getting off and having to up a million million stairs. I was very dizzy for a few minutes. But we would make it topside and I would recover through minimal complaining.

Our first stop was lunch at La Grande Boucherie. This place fancy fancy! Jess looked into reservations but I checked the Google info and it said the wait was 15 minutes so we risked it.

We waited in the line and the whole place was so pretty. When we got to the desk they said the wait would be 30 minutes or we could be sat right away if we would be okay with going upstairs. Which was very hot. And we decided that would be fine. And it would be a little uncomfortable but honestly wasn't to bad. Once we were sitting and took our jackets and layers off. It wasn't so good for other people. A table near us was sat 3 separate times and people would bail after only a couple minutes. We powered through.

Our waitress was very French. And the food was very good. James got french onion soup. Something they really love so I'm glad they got them. Jess got a fancy grilled cheese with ham and a poached egg. And I got a very fancy avocado toast with lemon and tomato and a poached egg. It was great.

Jess also got a mocktail that has blackberry and thyme and tasted like a really nice body wash. She liked it a lot. Smelled really nice.

We finished up there and headed out into the world.

A lot of things were just to busy. We would not be able to do them because it was to much. But I was still having fun with my favorite people. We got coffee and got chocolate. It was a very rich hot chocolate and I drank half of it before we poured the rest into their coffees which apparently was great and made the coffee amazing. I was happy to help.

We walked down 5th avenue and it was fun seeing the window displays and people watching. We would eventually make it to the plaza. Which they were not letting people in. Which was fair but it was fun to see all the very fancy hotels even if it was just from outside.

We would pull over to the side to regroup. I was enjoying our conversations and pointing out things but we needed a direction. And started heading to our next stop. To see the tree and go to FAO Schwartz.

I don't think I've ever been before and I was excited to see it. It was crazy getting there though. Just so many people. I was excited to see the tree. Apparently people complained about it but it looked good to me.

We got over to the toy store and the line to get in was around the block. But we decided to see how the wait was. And it honestly wasn't so bad. We got to stand outside the NBC studio building while we waited so that was neat. And the line moved pretty quickly.

When we finally got to the front I loved seeing the people who worked there all dressed up like toy soldiers. It was so cute.

Inside was a little wild but I was still excited. I loved seeing all the jelly cat stuff. We were specifically there to see the Jelly Cat Diner. Which was very cute. But I didn't want to get any of the food ones. Me and Jess ended up both getting the tony Christmas tree ornament they had and I love them very much.

I was also excited to see the stief bears and they had a calico critter display. They had so many great ones and I was just having a lot of fun looking even if there were to many people.

We would soon decide it was time to pay and go. Jess was a little overstimulated. Totally fair. We got in line and it actually wasn't long at all. They had that part down. I liked seeing the magnets and other little branded things. Very cute. We paid and for our layers back on and we were off.

We headed back to the subway to go to a Christmas market we thought might be less crazy. We were wrong.

When we got there it seemed alright. But it turned out we were on the farmers market side. Which was fine but we were a little confused. We liked seeing the dried flowers and peppers. And we got apple cider donuts to share. And then finally found the holiday market.

And it was just. Horrible. Like the worst part was that there was so much I would have really liked to see but it was so busy it was completely overwhelming and you could barely move. I tried to keep our spirits up but it was hard and after one aisle I gave up and got us out of there. Jess was distressed. I was trying not to be.

We would struggle for a bit after that. Trying to figure out what we were doing. We thought maybe we would head to see the lights at the botanical garden but it sold out. Which was upsetting but not the end of the world.

We decided we would got hit up a store we had heard good things about. We stopped for ice cream on the way there. I did not want ice cream, I wanted pizza. But Jess and James each got a scoop. She got strawberry and James got earl grey tea.

They both kept giving me spoonfuls as we walked down the street. And continued to joke about how they are both in love with me. That was an ongoing theme of the day. Telling me how amazing and beautiful I was. Both of them! We had big trupple energy today. They were both being very silly. I did not help when I insisted on holding hands with everyone so no one got lost. We were being very silly.

We got to the little store and it was expensive but super super cool. I took a lot of pictures for inspiration. Jess would get a yuza mayo. And we got quarters for their mini art print machine and we got three prints. I got ice cream, Jess got tomato, and James got an olive. It was a highlight for sure.

I would get my pizza and it was very good. And we walked to the fancy macaroon place Jess likes and got a gift for someone and it was a nice little stop.

When we went outside there was a whole bunch of commotion. It was a free Palestine protest. And it was very big! Someone handed me a sticker and a postcard and me and Jess held those up in support while the crowd went by. It was very exciting but also really powerful. Seeing such a large group. People eere very emotional. It was kind of amazing to be a part of it all.

We walked against the crowd and got to see the end of the group. The last vehicle was all branded with free Palestine and Gaza and it was beautiful.

We went to dinner after that. After eating a piece of Sicilian pizza I wasn't particularly hungry but Jess really wanted to go to the fancy ramen place. So that is what we did. We took the subway to Brooklyn to arrive right after the place opened.

And it was really good. They were nice enough to make space for us with a weird table situation. And the food was good. Though we both could barely early half and took the rest with us. James got a steamed bun and we shared some spicy picked vegetable and it was just really nice. I was having a great time.

James realized we were super close to their aunt Jan and uncle Will's house. So they sent a text to see if they were around and they were like yes! Come over! Your cousins here!

So we walked the 15 minutes or so over to their beautiful home.

And it was awesome. On the way there we got some free books which was exciting. And James kept gas lighting is that we were almost there. Lies. But we got there and Will and Jan welcomed us with so many hugs. And it was nice to meet James's cousin and his partner. They were both lovely. And it was such a fun little stop.

Not only do I love Will and Jan they love me and are such good actors listeners and I was able to bey best self and tell stories and it was just a lot of fun talking to them. I shared some of my collection stuff, talked about toys and such. And Jess got to talk about ux and our history. It was fun and silly and it made me feel so nice inside.

I'm excited we will get to see them again this month at Christmas. After telling some pretty gnarly stories about working in shops and catching up about both me and James's dads it was time to go. We had a train to get and lot of travel still to do.

We had to get back to the subway. Jess's feet and ankles were hurting real bad and James's legs are so long that I held James's hand to slow them down and held Jess's hand to pull her along. We were laughing about how much pain we were in and about New York and Christmas and Hanukah and it was just. Great. I was with my favorite people and it was just beautiful.

The subway was not terrible. Me and Jess were able to sit. I leaded my head on James's hand. Me and Jess discussed our Disney trip. It was a nice ride to Penn station.

Penn station on the other hand was a nightmare. It is always a nightmare. I hate going to on NJ transit it is always terrible because they don't tell you the track until 10 minutes before and then everyone goes insane.

We had some time though so to avoid the large gathering we went to find Jess a latte and me and James got Auntie Ann's pretzel bites. And then only had 15 minutes to wait. And then it got very scary.

They announced track 12 but we would have to get to the end and not the Amtrak train that was also sitting at 12. And I'm shocked no one got pushed onto the tracks because people were being insane. Pushing. Shoving. I got pushed by someone with a stroller on the escalator and for separated from Jess and James and it was terrible. But I could only move forward. People were running on the platform and it was legit scary. We had to keep moving forward but people were pushing others out of the way and being horrible.

I was still separated but I looked back and got closer to Jess and James and got them to the side of the platform with the train because I was worried about us all being so close to open track. But I would get separated again and Jess finally yelled to me to just get on even if it was full. I was able to get back to a corner in the middle of the car near the door and made space for them both so we were on and safe.

But then more and more were getting on and there was no where to go. Thankfully people by the door finally said no more and wouldn't push us any further. People tried to push from outside but there was no where else to go. Jess got very overheated and had to wiggle out of her coat. They didn't close the door for almost 10 more minutes. But we would be alright. It was scary but no one got hurt. People were sweaty and scared but we were alright.

Though people were yelling. People outside being like move so we can get on to and we were like. Where exactly would you like us to go?? Wait for the next one in 15 minutes. Finally they closed the doors and evening calmed down.

I opened a word game on my phone and we all played together while the train slowly cleared out. We had some big laughs when we couldn't remember words but it was just a lot of fun and a good way to pass the time together. And finally we were able to go sit down.

Poor Jess was dying her feet hurt so bad. Mine are not great but I know they are nowhere as near as bad as hers. We talked and tried to hold ourselves together. And soon we were at Hamilton.

Jess needed some support to get to the car. But we made it back and the next leg of the journey began. Jess changed into slippers. And James got cozy in the backseat.

I started writing this. And we have made it back to Jess's. Where we just helped her her neighbor's dog back home and she made James a coffee for the road. And we are about an hour from home.

I am very much looking forward to taking a shower and sleeping in our bed. I am happy.

Tomorrow, well today as it just clicked last midnight, I have a holiday market. My last one of the year. I hope it goes well. I'm looking forward to being in a musuem space. I think that's really cool. I hope it's fun. And it's a shorter market so I hope that it's a chill time and I just have a good time.

Wish me luck everyone. I love you all. Goodnight!

[guesswewillfindout]

So... I've taken a turn for the worse.

I've been trying to get my health under control all year because my inflammation markers are higher than they should be and I'm on a special diet and on medication. But I just keep getting worse. In late August, I got an MRI (MRIs really suck as an experience) and I got a lot worse. Like shooting nerve pain, burning nerve pain, dizziness, cannot drive, cannot lift things, can't sit or stand or walk for extended periods of time (60 minutes max), fatigue got worse, body aches got worse, couldn't sleep a lot due to pain, hard to focus on work, difficulty cooking and bathing and, in general, life.

I missed so many things. I had some fun things planned in September. I had to cancel all of them. I haven't been able to garden at all. I had to have my partner's sister and niece come over to clean the garage. I've gotten another MRI and been to a specialist and started a new medication and my rheumatologist is trying to convince insurance to let her increase my other medication.

Then, the tire on my car started getting low and I recognized a slow leak. We had to have the tire replaced. Then, a relay on the fridge went out and it was an entire drama because we couldn't figure out where the electrical burning smell was coming from at first. We finally figured it out through some deduction but the landlord couldn't get anyone to repair it quickly and we lost almost everything in the fridge and freezer. So money has been terrible.

I don't even want to get into all the family drama going on. I mostly go away and hide when anyone tries to bring me into it. I'm not getting into it. I can't right now and I don't think they'd be able to handle what I have to say if I did get into it.

Works not been fun. There's stuff going on there, too. And it's always nice when you feel terrible but are still working. And you have to be kind and respectful when more and more keeps getting piled on your plate and no one is listening to you.

Mostly, I just feel alone. I don't feel like I have anyone to talk to about what's going on. No one in my life gets this. I'm worried I won't get better. I'm doing all the right things: tests and medication and communication and physical therapy and talking to a counselor and trying to do self-care and eating healthy and not pushing too hard and keeping moving as much as I can. But I'm still worried. Because this is my life and my one body and my time. If there's anything I have a reasonable right to worry about, it's my health.

And I hate this. I hate being in my early 30s and not being able to spend time with people I care about or go kayaking or hike or get a dog or just pull weeds or scrub out the tub or carry laundry without feeling like I'm going to throw up and pass out. I hate that I've been missing out since my mid twenties. This isn't what I wanted or expected and "there's nothing for it". "It is what it is."

And I'm angry. I'm angry that a lot of other people don't have these problems. I have these problems. I don't want others to have them but I don't feel happy that I do have them. It doesn't feel balanced or fair. And I've been told my entire life that life is not fair. So don't bother reminding me. It feels like a punishment. But I didn't do anything to be punished. Or if I did...I apologize. I never meant whatever it was that got me here. I can do better. Just make it stop.

In the MRI today I was thinking about what I would give up to be healthy. What kind of magic deal with a sus character I'd make to not have these problems. I figured out there's a lot I'd give up. I wouldn't give up my cat or my partner. But I'd give up pretty much any food. I'd give up toes. Chop them off myself if that was part of the deal. I wouldn't hurt someone else because that's not right. It's not their fault and I wouldn't put it on anyone else. But I'd give up time. I'd give up years if only those years could be quality. And my partner hated hearing that because she wants me around for all the time she has. But that's how I feel. I get how people make those terrible, desperate deals in supernatural stories. Being chronically ill makes you feel desperate. Being in chronic pain makes you long for a time you can't even remember, a time without pain.