#lyra if you see this I'm so sorry

[latinkraken]

Stede can’t see what's right in front of him

Ed can't say what he wants to say

[ellydrawsstuff]

TIL that I've been misinterpreting Vaggie's design, because I'm a useless lesbian 😭

[inkydoc]

Bubble witch Katherine and her many, many outfits :3

a compilation post with all the stuff I've drawn for her because I like her design a lot, it's very comfortable :D also that last one i made the lineart with markers on paper, it was a cool little experiment

[army-of-bee-assassins]

i feel like this season of h/dm has gotten considerably worse but also i'm not 100% sure i'm remembering the previous seasons correctly. i remember mostly liking them and just finding some things weird. but maybe it was just as bad as this season and the amount of time that's passed since i watched them has simply made me forget how much stuff i didn't like

[peachesofteal]

through me 🥹🥹🥹 its such a palette cleanser. always so sweet and endearing, the power of ur anthologies... i hope theyre as fun to write as they are to read!!!

if ur taking requests 👀 can we see the two of them going through name lists? would they keep to the stars theme? what would their backups be, would they find one really good GN name or different options if its a boy or a girl? middle names? nickname they call the baby before they decide on the real name? orions such a good name thats a high bar to match lmao

Through Me (The Flood) - Simon Riley/female reader

"I think we should keep the constellation theme." You bury your face in his chest as he cups the back of your head. When your fingers fist in his shirt and you gulp, he moves down your spine, kneading and stroking, trying to soothe the nausea.

"Do you need to get up?"

"No, I"m-" You shudder, and then jerk upright, hand over your mouth.

Two seconds later, you're running for the bathroom.

It's been like this for two weeks. You're sick in the afternoons, at night. You manage to keep down soup, and crackers, and he keeps water bottles full of electrolytes throughout the house.

He's helpless. Useless to you. Only able to stand by and give you comfort as you toss the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl.

He didn't handle your last doctor's appointment particularly well. You were fairly calm and collected, while he was a mess, demanding treatments and options for something that they wouldn't be able to cure. Morning sickness is normal, even if it comes during the day or at night, the doctor told him. There's no need to worry unless it gets considerably worse. 

You cough, and he finds the handle to flush. "I'm sorry sweetheart." He puts the cool washcloth on your neck, urging you to lean back against him. Your lashes are wet, whites of your eyes turned red, and guilt burrows in the back of his mind. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you're peering up at him, and he uses the cloth to wipe your lips, the corner of your mouth as you sag against his chest. "It was the same with Ry."

"When will it stop?"

"Soon. Last time it was around twenty weeks, so shouldn't be too much longer." You press closer and he holds you tight, circling his thumb in your belly, stroking up and down as you take deep, long breaths.

"C'mon. Let's get back in bed."

"What about Pyxis?"

"Tell me about it." This never gets old. He could lay here and hold you for the rest of his life, listening to you tell him all about the stars, the constellations, where they are, how far away, why they're named.

"It's named after a compass, like the ones ship captains use. We could call them Pixie with a y for short." You frown. "I guess Pyxie isn't really gender neutral. Pyx, maybe?" He hums.

"I'm not sure either of those fall in the neutral category." You're both committed to the surprise. Maybe life's biggest, if he's honest, waiting to find out if the baby is a boy or girl, and because of it, the two of you decided to focus on gender neutral names. It's made the list shorter, but he's relishing every moment. He didn't get this last time, didn't get to hold you as you rattled off a million ideas. Didn't get to hear you excited you were when you finally decided on Orion.

He's soaking it up now.

"Aries?" He shakes his head.

"Too masculine."

"Corvus? Corvus for a boy, and then Core as a nickname for a girl?"

"He'd be cool, she'd get teased without mercy." You wince.

"I like Lyra, the harp, but it's too feminine. What about Vela?"

"What is it?"

"It's a constellation that's like part of big constellation, I think technically. It's latin, for sails of a ship."

"The A on the end always fucks with me," he murmurs, lips on your forehead, "it doesn't sound neutral."

"I still don't hate Pyxis." you chirp, wrapping around him. His hands slide to your belly and stay there.

"Let's think about it." He tugs your knee up to his thigh, turning you on your side to help you get comfortable, and you sigh.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

In the dark, not even an hour later, your voice rasps in a whisper against his ear. "What about Phoenix." It's not a question, and he pauses. "It's named after the myth. We could call them Nix for short. It works whichever way you want." Phoenix.  

It's more than a constellation. It's rebirth. New beginnings. Transformation. Everything you've given him, everything the two of you have built together.

"It's perfect."

[vanishedinvain]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐄

—𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader (but she doesn't show up yet, sorry lol)

summary: benedict's last moment of contentment before the storm that marooned his dreams.

warnings: very very brief mention of a gun, baby's first fic (it's me, i'm baby)

wc: 1.6k

next chapter // series masterlist

The Wiminet Art House sits just outside the limits of Mayfair, owned by the Dowager Baroness Lyra Wiminet. It is only half the size of a wing at Somerset House, and most of the artists are either anonymous or so unknown, they are as good as anonymous. It crams in an overwhelming number of pieces, barely a centimeter between each frame. It features a myriad of styles: soft landscapes, portraits, absurd finger-paintings, violent war scenes. 

When it first opened, every London newspaper dismissed it as the eccentricity of a widow, mad without a man to guide her. There was no cohesion, they said. Downright tasteless. Where was the class? The refinement? It was a laughingstock for all of two days before the ton moved on as they always did.

It was also Benedict Bridgerton’s most frequented gallery. And Eloise had no idea why.

“You have been here at least twenty times in the past year, and they have only changed a single painting,” Eloise pointed out on one of these trips. Though she did not prefer to visit the same blasted gallery with the same blasted paintings, it was more merciful than watching Daphne and their mother flit about the house searching for the perfect dress to secure a proposal from the Prussian prince.

Plus her brother promised to buy her an apricot ice afterwards.

“What could possibly be left to see?” she asked.

They were standing in front of a rather large seascape, one that spanned a quarter of the wall. Benedict turned away to look at Eloise, a grimace upon her face as she tried to see what her brother saw. It was a quality Benedict most appreciated in her; she was stubborn and quick to snark, but she never wrote off his interests as frivolous. She was attempting to understand, even if she was staring at the painting like it personally offended her.  

“Do you remember when you were eleven and Colin brought home that mystery novel for all of us? The one where an opera singer was killed in the middle of a show.”

“An Aria Most Deadly,” she recalled, smiling, “I couldn’t put it down. Col was scolded for bringing home such a—how did Mama word it?—terribly gruesome and improper book.”

He chuckled, remembering their mother’s scandalized face. As Colin was being scolded, she had set the book down on the settee. Eloise, ever nimble, snatched it and ran up to her room with nary a scuff across the floor.

“You re-read it over and over, looking for the clues, even after you’d finished it days prior. A snide comment from the stagehand that was once humorous turned dark. The author’s insistence on describing the location of the candelabra suddenly became obvious.”

“The details were so much clearer in hindsight,” she remarked.

“That is usually the privilege of hindsight.” He gestured back to the painting in front of them. “What do you see?”

She stared for a moment, tilting her head to one side to see if a change in angle would help. It was a turbulent scene, violent even, with outbursts of red and orange screaming amongst the cerulean and imposing slate clouds as the ship went down.

“A shipwreck?” Eloise answered with a shrug. “An unfortunately timed storm?”

Benedict stepped back, and grabbed Eloise by the shoulders, shifting her to the right so that she could stand in his place. “Do you see that spot of red on the ship?”

She squinted slightly. “Clearly, a fire broke out on the ship. Likely from the gunpowder catching on the wood. I mean, it says it in the title, Ship on Fire in Water,” she said, reading off the plaque underneath.

“But look closer at this spot of red at the front of the ship. Or that one by the captain’s quarters. Compare it to how the artist paints the flames,” Benedict insisted, gesturing to each area of interest. “He or she blends out the flames with orange and a bit of yellow usually. But these particular spots aren’t. They’re blended with brown. Maybe even a bit of black. That’s not fire, is it?”

Her eyebrows raised as the realization dawned on her. “It’s blood! Someone was killed. The captain, maybe?” She turned back to look at him in unbridled excitement at the newly-uncovered narrative.

Benedict smiled widely, crinkles forming around his eyes, watching his little sister finally get it, get him. “Possibly.”

“What do you think was the motive? Was it a mutiny?”

He shrugged. “That I am unsure of, dear sister. Every time I come back, I see something new. So, perhaps we need to look at it longer. Or make our rounds and come back with fresh eyes.”

Eloise had bounded off before he even finished.

They spent another two hours in the gallery, making little comments on each one, attempting to decipher a story from it. They even requested a step-ladder for the ones that had been skied because Benedict, having met Lady Wiminet, knew that there was no rhyme or reason as to the placement of each painting.

There was a most brilliant park scene about half a meter down from the ceiling. The artist did not draw a realistic, soft sunset, but a heightened one with punchy plums and a bright tangerine shade to blend. It was a bold choice that Benedict would’ve never thought of. The scene itself was of a promenade, much to Eloise’s displeasure, but she found amusement in mapping out the interpersonal relationships of the swans in the lake.

They made their way back to the bloodied, fiery ship shipwreck, standing in amicable silence before Eloise spoke.

“I understand it now. Why you've been here twenty times. Why you sketch until your fingers shake at dinner, but then use your drawings as fire kindle at night. You’re chasing greatness.”

“I want to get one of mine on these walls one day, El,” he said quietly, as if they weren’t the only people in the room. It was the first time he had admitted that ambition out loud.

“You will,” she replied, equally quiet back.

He sighed in relief. He wasn’t worried about Eloise’s reaction, though her vote of confidence was cherished. He was worried about being so unworthy that the words would refuse to roll off his tongue, lodging in his throat as a croak. But the idea was out there now, and a mirthful giddiness sprouted forth in the soil where his insecurities were rooted.

“I’d be anonymous, though,” he added after a pause.

She frowned, but neither of them made further comments on the subject. He already understood what she didn't verbalize. She dreaded living and dying in anonymity without a university degree or prolific novel attached to her name, something to outlast her that wasn’t a dullard husband or terrifying child. She could not stand the thought that the world might feel zero impact from her existence. 

Benedict, however, was far less eager to sign his name on a canvas. He could be displayed in any gallery in England if he simply asked, regardless of whether he was even good enough. Who would dare criticize a Bridgerton painting, with nine generations of viscounts breathing down their necks? If he were to ever put his name on any of his work, he wanted—needed—to be so good that everyone would be too awestruck by what was in front of them to check whose name was etched onto the little copper plaque beneath the frame.

This was one of the only points of incongruence between the second eldest Bridgerton brother and sister that couldn’t be remedied by a simple anecdote or shift to the right. Though, perhaps there was no need for one; a painter would never ask a writer to adjust her palette and a writer would never tell a painter his meter was off-tempo.

It was an afternoon well spent away from the ornery obligations of the social season, coming home with their appetites spoiled from the promised apricot ices. Benedict grabbed An Aria Most Deadly from the library, and read the first few chapters before retiring for the night. He’d finished the novel after he pried it away from Eloise years ago, so he knew it was the conductor who had killed the opera singer. This knowledge only pulled the deftly placed clues into crisp focus upon this second reading; even the first chapter was littered with hints.

Perhaps that is why when he sits in the viscount’s study, the one that was never supposed to go to him, he often thinks about the night of Granville’s party. That night began with him feeling so alive, more alive than he could ever fathom. Yet, it ended with a sinking stone of dread taking up a months-long residence in the pit of his stomach.

Were there clues he should’ve seen?

If he’d been less drunk off the wine or the women or both, he’d have noticed Daphne wasn’t wearing the necklace gifted to her by the prince, even though he clocked the ostentatious clunk of jewelry when she left for the Trowbridge Ball. Or that the hem of her dress was muddy and her face was pinched, on the verge of tears.

If he wasn’t so preoccupied with how to take advantage of his freedoms as the spare of the family, he’d have noticed the blooming violet bruises on Anthony’s knuckles as he yanked Benedict into the study with considerable force.

It wasn’t until he was rolling his shoulder, about to complain that his arm could've been popped out of its socket, when the gun box was placed on the desk with a resounding thud. 

Things only clicked into place as Anthony began frantically talking about estates and dowries and an appointment with the duke at dawn, but there were signs from the moment he walked in the door.

The details were always so much clearer in hindsight.

next chapter // series masterlist

a/n: they dropped new abc pictures last month, and i decided to make it everyone else's problem by starting this fic. now it’s bridgerton eve!!! rejoice!!!

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 12: Death's Sting

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 2.8k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Mercy is a luxury afforded to few. Death, however, seizes all.

Numb.

All you felt was numb.

The only other feeling you had experienced was the physical pain of tear stains on your face. They cut deeper than any other wound you had gotten in your life. The salt had worn your skin down to its last layer with a red blotchy mess being left behind. You cried until you could not anymore. Settled deep in your room, you had secluded yourself in that space for an indeterminable amount of time. It may have been days or a week. Amara, Liriel, Helaena, Aegon, and Daeron would rotate in delivering your meals. Each time they tried to speak to you and each time you would give them nothing but silence. Each time they delivered a meal, they would come back to a nearly full plate.

"Daeron, what has happened?"

Your throat too suffered from pain. Screaming, you could remember screaming and shouting in anguish. A pile of broken glass was laid on the floor by wine stains on the wall. You had thrown a glass carafe at the wall in anger when you were dragged back to your room, kicking at the guards. At that moment, there had been nothing but anger. At yourself or something else – that was entirely unknown.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Only one thing played through your head; that dreaded morning outside the sickhall. The memory played on repeat in your head, mocking and torturing.

Daeron tried to hold you back and away, but you could still see over his shoulder. Two healers held a stretcher between them.

You could still feel your heart dropping at that moment – ever present and near.

There was a white sheet placed on the stretcher and you could see a figure under it.

"What... who is that?" The question did not need to be asked. You knew the answer, but could not even think it so much as vocalize it. Daeron pulled you towards his chest and held the back of your head with one hand and your back with his other in an attempt to cover your eyes.

It was surprising, how quickly an individual could mean to another in such a short period. Even more so, how quickly one could leave.

An arm had slipped out from under the sheet. It was limp and the small little hand bounced gently with the movement of the stretcher. You recognized that hand from the number of times you clasped it in yours as you would take their vitals.

Denial had hit you first then. You could not remember the number of times you muttered the word 'no' as your grip on Daeron tightened and your legs threatened to give out. You had clung to him with desperation.

You could not look away from that tiny stretcher. You could not look away from the last part of Lyra you would ever get to see.

A seizure in the night was the explanation Daeron had given you just hours after her body was carried out. He told you after you had stopped screaming and sobbing. You could remember his eyes as they scanned your room that was upturned in your anger. Lyra's infection was not near late stage, but that did not matter. None of it mattered.

"But we just... we just found a way to stall it..."

You remembered how horse your voice had been, yet you refused all offers of water. If anything had entered your stomach then, it would have come right back up. Since then, you had sat on the cool stone of your floor surrounded by pillows and blankets. Your view was through the window and out at the garden. Hours would be spent watching the fireflies dance as you clutched the small doll in your hands. You would stroke the hair as if in a trance.

The sound of a creaking door did not register in your mind. The figure of Daeron appeared in your peripheral as he crouched down in your line of sight. He held a silver plate in his hand with various meats, cheeses, and breads.

He set it down in front of you and spoke, "You have to eat."

You slowly looked down at the food before raising your head to meet his eyes. There was no verbal response given and you shook your head. Daeron sighed and sat down. He crossed his legs and you found your view slightly obstructed which forced you to focus on the conversation.

"Why don't we eat together? I'm starving," His tone was encouraging but gentle. Daeron reached down and grabbed a piece of cured meat to eat. As you watched him eat, you became intensely aware of the pain in your stomach. It no longer rumbled, but instead sent sharp pains through your abdomen.

With shaking hands, you reached out for a piece of bread. You brought it up to your mouth and took a small hesitant piece. There was no taste, but you knew it was not the baking that was the issue; rather your broken body was unable to process much. You swallowed it down and made a move to eat another chunk.

It took longer than it should have, but over the next hour, you slowly ate the food on the plate with Daeron's silent encouragement. Despite your stomach calling for more food, you stopped because of the nauseous feeling overcoming your body. Daeron handed you a cup of water, but you only clutched it in your hands.

A knock sounded on the door and Daeron got up from his spot on the ground. He left your vision and walked behind you to open the door. You could hear his steps on the stone and the creaking of wood.

"Oh," Daeron's voice was surprised, "I don't think now is time for whatever you had planned."

Whoever it was decided to ignore him and walked into the room. They came up from behind you and threw down a bag beside your form. You looked at the leather travel back and then up to the figure that dropped it.

Aemond stood tall, his one eye trained on you. There was a determination that swirled in those orbs along with something indecipherable. You were confused as to why he had come to visit so long into your grief or even visit at all.

"You have an hour to pack," Aemond informed.

You focused your gaze back on the bag. There was no course of action for what he told you. Confusion turned to fear. Was he getting rid of you now? He likely thought you were no longer valuable due to your incapacity. A few days prior in your comatose state, Daeron informed you that the potions had managed to stop the taint from progressing.

You assumed that the deal to keep you here was somewhat fulfilled. You had a year to come up with a solution. While not entirely a fix, the potion could be used on people just after infection, thus stopping it before it progresses. The current patients would be stuck to suffer, but at the very least any future ones could be helped. The swaths of damaged land would also never recover, but it can now be halted from taking over the earth. You believed that Aemond saw no point in you staying, especially if you were not contributing and lay derelict in your room.

However, Aemond's explanation did not match that sentiment, "You wished to visit Lake Rosemange because of your father? Well, we are going." You had no idea how he found out about Lake Rosemagne, but it was likely another instance of Daeron informing him. He had the habit of spilling knowledge to others because he thought it could lead to something good. It equally frustrated you and warmed your heart that he cared.

Daeron approached you two and stood by his brother, "Aemond now is not the time to remind her of that–"

"Now is the appropriate time. Rotting away in this room is proving of no use." Aemond dismissed his brother. His voice was clouded with self-superiority as if his plan was the better option to letting you rot away here.

"She needs to rest and regain her energy." Daeron tried to reason. The longer you thought about it, the more it started to make sense. Being in this room – this castle – was doing you no good. You had to get out, if only for a little while. The potions were given to patients and now you had time to take a break, revitalize your brain, and get back to research with a fresh breath.

The two brothers began to bicker. It would have made you laugh if you were in brighter spirits.

"No" Your voice was raw after its long period of no use and it took a few attempts to get the word out loud enough for the two elves to notice you, "I–I think it could be good."

Daeron crouched down and rested his hand on your knee, "Don't feel like you are being forced into anything,"

You reached out and clasped his hand in your own, "Daeron, this could be good for me."

Out of the corner of your vision, you could see Aemond as he watched you both with a calculating gaze. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Then if you're sure, let's get you packed," Daeron spoke.

Aemoned hummed in a pleased tone, "Good. It is three days of travel one way. Pack enough and pack light. I will be waiting at the stables." He wasted no time before walking down the three steps to your living space, across the room, and out the door. It was then that you realized the implication of his words. He said that he would be waiting. Was Aemond going on this trip with you?

"Did... did your brother just say he will be waiting?" You questioned Daeron as he helped you stand up.

Daeron reached down and grabbed the bag to give to you, "It appears so."

"Does he not have more... kingly matters to attend to?" He shrugged at your words and moved towards your wardrobe.

"I've learned not to question Aemond. Everything he does has a reason." He reasoned. You took in the expanse of your room to see it in such disarray. You had destroyed many things in your initial bout of anger and had yet to clean it up. Your small two-person dining table had been turned on its side. One of the walls had torn banners from where you threw a jug of wine; the glass from the jug lay in a pile on the floor. Other things, such as pillows and blankets, had been strewn about.

"I'm sorry about all of this..." You spoke.

Daeron turned to see you scanning the room and the mess you had made in the early stages of your grief, "Do not apologize. Grief is something my family is accustomed to."

A part of you, perhaps days ago, would have persisted for an explanation, but you were already tired and had yet to even begin packing. Instead of speaking further, you decided to get to work and walked to your wardrobe to pick out some clothing. At least then, your mind could be distracted by something other than Lyra's toothy smile.

You stood in the courtyard outside the stables and watched as an entourage of guards began to prep multiple horses and supplies. Initially, one of them had asked when you would get in the carriage they had set up, but you refused and picked to ride instead. More fresh air was likely the better option. There were a few carts prepped to carry supplies. The canvas and fabrics led you to understand there would be camping on the three-day trip to the lake. Your bag of supplies had already been strapped to a horse.

Aemond had been overseeing the preparation and you watched him from a distance as he commanded his men. There was nothing you could do to help. Daeron had already exchanged goodbyes with you. Your name was called by a familiar voice behind you and you turned to see Helaena and Aegon approaching.

"You would leave without saying goodbye? Am I worth nothing to you?" Aegon jested.

You rolled your eyes, but could not muster up a smile, "Yes, Helaena, I wanted to say goodbye." You gave full attention to the princess and Aegon clutched his chest to pretend he had been stabbed.

Helaena stopped just short in front of you and reached a hand out to rest on your shoulder. This was the first time she had gotten so close to you and her touch was both a tremendous surprise and a warm delight. Even Aegon looked momentarily stunned but brushed it off.

"Stay safe," Helaena then dropped her arm and backed up. Her gaze drifted to the area around her.

"If I find any neat insect, I'll be sure to bring it back," You informed her and Helaena smiled brightly before dismissing herself to go to one of the gardens.

When she left you, your attention shifted to Aegon, "Have a drink for me at the celebration party tonight."

Aegon nodded, "Of course," He then got closer and looked around to make sure nobody could overhear, "I will try and make progress on your father's disappearance while you're gone." He whispered.

Your brows furrowed and you lowered your voice as well, "From what possible leads?"

Aegon's face morphed into staunch seriousness, "I have my suspicions. Do not worry about it and enjoy your trip." He reached an arm around your shoulders and gave you a side hug. His free hand came up to ruffle your hair. You struggled to break free from his grip. Suddenly, all of the instances you had in your life yearning for siblings washed away. If siblings were this annoying, you would take no part in it.

You swatted his hand away, "I will try and enjoy it, but it may not be the best break given Aemond is joining."

"Does it ever get tiring pretending to hate my brother?" Aegon asked. He released you from his hold and you took a step back.

"I do not hate your brother," You reasoned and crossed your arms, "We just find it hard to..."

"See eye to eye?" Aegon jested, "You know that is entirely rude to say given his affliction. I would expect better from you."

You pushed against his chest and tried to knock him over, but all Aegon did was sway and laugh. Still, not a grin would make its way on your face, but the spirits inside you lightened just partly. Your bickering attracted some attention from the stable attendants and you became acutely aware of yourself. It was like a moment of clarity. Aegon was a good friend, but still a royal family member so your closeness with him could be seen as inappropriate.

Before you could speak, Aegon looked behind you and grinned widely, "Ah, good to see you, brother. Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"That was the plan." Aemond's deep voice, eerily close to you, ran down your spine. You turned to see him less than a foot away. Despite talking to his brother, his eye was trained on you.

"Well then, I can see I am not wanted," Aegon said. He squeezed your shoulder, "Safe travels, my lady," He nodded to his brother as a form of goodbye and then left, walking up the courtyard and back into the castle.

"You've packed what you need?" Aemond asked you.

With your crossed arms, you rubbed your upper biceps to soothe yourself. You did not mind being around Aemond, but all those past encounters did not involve such a wide range of servants and courtiers around craning their necks to see the king. It felt like everyone was watching you, though most of them were simply going about their tasks for the day.

"It's all on my horse," You responded.

"Good, we must get going while the day is still young." Aemond extended one of his arms to get you to move to the group of horses and carts waiting at the gate. You followed his command and walked across the dirt yard. The illuminating fireflies gave way to your movement. Thinking back to the map you saw of the elf kingdom with Lake Rosemagne, it was located in a break of the trees and you were excited to be out in the sun.

Your horse was next to Aemond's. You recognized the fur pattern and saw the grand detailing in the saddle and accompanying draperies of green. You got up on the horse with ease and Aemond mounted his. You both were located at the front of the travelling party.

Aemond shouted in the elven language at the guards standing at the top of the wall that encircled the courtyard. The large wrought iron gate began to open with a loud groan. You looked at the long path ahead of you, while simultaneously looking at Aemond's figure in the corner of your vision.

He clicked his tongue once and his horse jerked forward into a mellow trot. You tugged on the reins gently, your horse following after the king. 

Chapter 13: Of Taverns and Bathhouses Preview

"Tell me,"

You could already feel him looking at you, a gaze that always erupted a heat within your stomach. He spoke with an almost defeated sigh, "I believe you already know." He let you mull over his words and you conceded that it was true. You already knew, what good would it do to hear it in graphic detail? What could that accomplish for your already grief-stricken mind?

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[seireitonin]

I just saw your fic/hc of if toby had kids, it's so good btw!! :3

I'm in a mischievous mood, how would he react if one of/both of the kids died? Like he took his eyes off them for one second. I feel like because they most likely live in a forest setting, it would be something like going on a lake when it's iced over and then falling through.

This is so sad omg :( but let me try my best (you really want to sob huh?😭)

Toby If His Kids Died

He’d never ever recover

He’d never ever ever EVER forgive himself

He looked away for one second

Just one

But that second is all it took

The ice was thin and his kids not knowing any better, stood on it together, falling in

Toby heard the sound of the ice breaking and the two loud splashes

He turned around as quickly as he could only to see the open hole where they once were

Trapped under the ice as Toby tried to get them out

He was too late

He pulls them out and does everything he could

CPR, shaking them softly, calling out there names

“Please…wake up…please…please…please! Talk to me! Open your eyes! Please….i need you…I love you! Your dad needs you! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

When they don’t respond it destroys him

He hits the ground, screams and sobs

Just truly broken

Out of everything that he’s been through in his life, this was the most painful, unbearable, heart shattering thing he’s ever been through

His world was gone in a second

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I love you! I failed you! I’m so sorry”

He sobs out as he hugs them to his chest, wishing they’d hug him back, and tell him they’re okay

Their skin, freezing cold, their clothes, soaking wet

He carries them home, putting them in their beds, trying to warm them up, one last time

How was he going to face his significant other?

He meets them at the front door, falling to his knees and hugging their legs, ear piercing sobs

“They’re gone…they’re gone”

“W-what?!”

“They fell in the lake and got trapped in the ice! I was too late! I-“

He can’t continue, falling victim to his sobs

His significant other, starts to scream and sob along with him, pushing Toby off in anger

“This is your fault! This is your fucking fault!”

They’re just confused and angry and full of grief like he is

“Why weren’t you watching them?! How could you let this happen?!”

“I turned away for one second! It was a second! One second! I promise!”

“Look what it cost us! Look what you did! You destroy everything you fucking touch!”

“Please….im sorry! I’m sorry!”

He couldn’t even say that wasn’t true

Every person he loved, every person who depended on him, he’s let die

Lyra is dead. His mom was probably dead. Now…his children….are gone

He’s a failure. And everyone around him had to pay the price

His significant other, and Toby bury them on a hill, where they all had a picnic once.

They put their favorite toys on the graves, saying goodbye to their bundles of joy

Life is unfair, huh?

Toby and his partner try to stay together

But they could never look at Toby the same way

They wouldn’t look Toby in the eyes or in the face

They could only see their children in Toby’s features

Toby tried to touch them, to hold them, to comfort them

He could hear them, sobbing quietly in the night with their back turned to him

The guilt eats him alive

But they didn’t want Toby’s touch, not ever again

Their meals were silent

They exchanged minimal words

What do you say? What do you do?

They couldn’t take it anymore

They packed all their things and had one final conversation with the man they once had a life with

“Toby…”

“Please…no”

“Toby….i can’t do this anymore…. I can’t”

“Please….stay”

“I love you, Toby. But I can never forgive you.”

“Don’t…”

“Our children’s empty rooms are up there. I can’t….stay. Every where I turn….I see them. It’s like they’re haunting us. I can’t stay here, Tobias. Neither should you.”

“Please! You’re all I have left! I….please! You’re all I have left…”

“You lost me a long time ago. Goodbye. Tobias”

They were gone, just like that

It’s just Toby in this empty home

A home once filled with love and joy was now filled with grief and pain

He started to have a tic attack

And no one was here to help him through it

He sobs out again, the reality hitting him harder and harder with every passing second

With no one around

He starts to have hallucinations again

He sees the ghosts of his children, like he saw the ghost of Lyra

“Why didn’t you save us?”

“I tried! I tried! You know I…I love you!”

“Then why did you let us die?!”

“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop!”

He started picking and chewing at his fingers, pulling his hair, hitting himself in the head

Old habits from when he was 17

He turns to alcohol

He made a promise to never be like his dad

He’s sticking to it in his own way

He can never abuse his family. He has no family

He’s often drunk most of the time now

Sometimes just so he can sleep

But even when he sleeps all he can hear is the ice breaking, the ice cold water, the last moments of his kids

Masky and Hoodie find him in his home

“Toby. You have to start coming on missions again. We can’t keep covering for you. You know what Slenderman will do to you if you don’t”

“Let him kill me. I don’t care. I died a long time ago”

He takes another swig from his bottle as he talks to them, slurring a bit

“He should’ve…let me die….when I was 25”

“You can’t even stand can you?”

“Fuck you! Fuck you!”

He starts to scream

“My family is gone! I lost my family, TWICE! You think I care about missions anymore?! You think I care about anything anymore?! Huh?! I dont give a fuck about my life!”

Masky lets out a sigh

“You know, you always were emotional. Although, I kinda miss when you were a hyper and upbeat annoying little shit. I wonder if your children were the same?”

Toby immediately pulls his hatchets out and starts swinging, sloppy, but still dangerous

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about them!”

Hoody catches his arms and pushes him back on the couch

“He didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I’ll kill him!”

“You can’t even stand up straight”

The room was spinning. He wasn’t wrong

“Just…let me die. Let me die…here”

They look at him

He’s malnourished. His skin paler than ever. His self inflicted wounds, just open because no one was there to help patch him up. The dark circles under his eyes, prominent. His eyes themselves, hollow and empty

Masky warms up some instant noodles from the cabinet

“Eat. Now”

“Fuck you”

“Toby. Please” Hoodie says, concerned

He reluctantly takes it and eats slowly unable to finish, putting it on the table in front of him

“See that…toy truck over there?”

He points to a red toy pickup truck, untouched and in the same place his son left it.

“That was my son’s favorite. He told me…he liked it so much….because it looked like….mine.”

He points to a doll with fluffy brown hair

“See that? My daughter….loved it…said it had hair like me”

He can’t take it anymore. He starts to sob. He doesn’t even care about looking tough anymore

“Fuck! They’re gone! They’re gone!”

Toby puts his head in his hands and just sobs

What else could he do?

This was his first time talking about it with someone else

They sit with him, putting their hands on his shoulders, comforting him

They didn’t always get along though out the years

But they could put that aside for something like this

“Brain. You died. Brought back by….Slenderman. How do you feel?”

He already knew what Toby was implying

“Don’t even think about it Toby. I may be alive again. But my body isn’t mine anymore and I’m a slave to Slenderman. You know that. You don’t want that for your children. They’ll belong to him and have a life of suffering. So…let them rest”

It was selfish thinking on Toby’s part. But he’d do anything to have them back

But he knew better. He wouldn’t actually go through with that idea

Toby’s mood swings are worse than ever

Extreme sadness, to extreme numbness to extreme anger

That’s it

He couldn’t feel happiness anymore

It died with his kids

It left with his significant other

Constant panic attacks

Constant nightmares

Constant hallucinations

And besides the occasional visit from Masky and Hoodie

He was alone

And….maybe it’s better this way

The words ring in his head every day

“You destroy everything you fucking touch!”

A shell of a person

Doesn’t leave his house anymore, unless it’s to visit his children’s graves

Hopes he’ll see his ex partner there one day

Wants to ask if they have nightmares too and if they still wake up and think of the life they had together

Wants to end his own life, but was cursed with immortality or at least long lasting life

He wants nothing more than to see his family again

Both of them

Blames himself every day

Will literally never not blame himself

He will never move on or be happy again

So he spends his days in the empty home, looking at once was

“Please….forgive me. I love you.”

He holds a picture of his kids to his chest as he falls asleep into another nightmare

Not that real life was any better

[reyreadersblog]

"A duel my love?"

Pairs: Lyra x Grayson, Lyrason.

Warnings: swords, fighting.

AN: this is basically set after TGG, also i am writing in first person because i phisically can't write in third person and i'm sorry if it's not your cup of tea, also sorry if it's too corny😭🙏🏻

Tags: @reminiscentreader @lxvebelle @jkriordanverse @f4iry-bell @dutifullysparklyphilosopher @two-braincells-in-total @wish-i-were-heather @whatsamongus @lyrakanefanatic

♧COLLAGE♧

♧CUT♧

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡

LYRA'S POV:

If you'd told me a year and a half ago that today i'd be standing in front of the opening gates of the Hawthorne mansion with my boyfriend, Grayson Hawthorne beside me, i'd laugh at your face and praise your imagination.

Oh, well...you know what they say, only time can tell.

To say the house is huge is an understatement, it's enormous. Until now i had only seen it in magazines and social media.

A few weeks ago Avery Grambs, a Hawthorne heiress and Grayson's brothers insisted that i visited them with Grayson.

"you need to visit us at the mansion, i'll be your guide" Avery said.

"yeah, you're part of the family now" Xander winked at me.

I am part of the family now.

I am part of the family now.

I am part of the family now.

I repeated that sentence few times in my head and smiled to myself.

"Lyra" a voice called behind.

"Lyra" a voice, his voice.

"Huh?" I blurted out.

"Lyra, are you okay sweetheart?" Grayson stood in front of me caressing my cheek, looking a bit concerned, I melted into his touch.

I took his hand in mine and smiled at him.

"I'm alright, i just...zoned out a bit"

Grayson smiled back at me, and i could swear everytime he smiled, i felt days of my lifetime taken out of my body. It was killing me.

Then suddenly it hit me.

"Oh, wait i forgot to take out my luggage!" I panicked.

Grayson chuckled and i felt kind of embarrased.

I'm sorry mister but i'm just getting used to this lifestyle.

"You don't have to worry about them, i told the valet to take it to our room" when he said "our" i felt something in my stomach.

Was i having butterflies?

Jesus, we've been dating for almost a year and he still found a way to make me anxious (in a good way).

"Are we going to meet them inside?" I asked.

"Yes, but before i want to show you something"

"Show me what?" I arched an eyebrow.

He took my hands and kissed them.

"You'll see, i just need you to follow me" and so i did, i followed him. First thing i saw was a giant fountain and two paths, splitting of in both directions. The great garden had everything: Brenches, flowers, bushes, fountains and...a hedge maze.

"Where exacly are we going?" I asked him, following his every move.

"You're not usually this impatient" he told me, ignoring the question, slightly smiling.

"Well, i don't know, what if you're kidnapping me?" I teased him.

"I know better than to kidnapp Lyra Catalina Kane"

I watched his every move and every turn...and it would be a lie if i said i didn't stare at his muscles which you could see even when he wore his armors.

Right turn. Left turn. Forward. Left. Right.

Every once in a while he'd turn his head and look at me, i don't know if this was his way of adoration or his way of making sure i was right by his side.

"We're here" Grayson said.

Finally we arrived at what i guessed would be the center, a large square area. I don't know what i expected, but it wasn't this. And then i saw Grayson kneeling, touching something undernearth the grass and all of a sudden i felt ground shaking.

I stepped closer and i saw a steel compartment embedded in the ground, about six feet long, three feet wide and not that deep. I looked in Grayson's direction, he was holding something metal.

A sword.

I laughed. a shocking laugh.

This i didn't expect at all.

"Longswords" we both said at the same time.

I knelt down to hold it.

"Careful, they're heavy" Grayson warned me and i rolled my eyes at him.

It was indeed heavy, about 3 feet long, with a T- shaped hilt.

I brushed my hand through the hard metal.

"Type Xll, sword of the early middle ages, grete swerdes"

Grayson smiled at me and he looked..proud.

"A duel my love?" I asked him.

"No" he said without hesetating.

"What? Why?" I asked confused

"Lyra, i've been practicing sword fighting ever since i turned 6, my grandfather made sure i knew every technique and i don't want to-"

"Ohhhh..so that's what this is about..you think of me as a low oponent, i'm guessing me telling you the history of this sword wasn't enough to make you believe how skilled i am, huh?" I chuckled

"I just don't want to hu-"

Swing.

I swung at him aware of every muscle in my body and his.

He avoided it, and now our blades made an "X".

"Try me, asshole" i said smirking.

Grayson smiled softly. Everything about it was dangerous.

Grayson stepped forward and we both swing the sword at the same time.

Nice stance, he needs to work more on his reflex though.

But he isn't showing his full potential. He is going easy on me.

I knew it, sword fighting has always been one of my passions and i hated when people underestimated me.

My sword touched his.

Winning against Grayson is going to be easy, all i need is control and balance.

One of the main rules of sword swinging was to never look into an oponent's eyes more than 2 seconds, always pay attention to the sword and the way your oponent moves.

Yet i could't take my eyes away from his.

Ever since we started dating, i'd look into his eyes and i could swear every day they were different shades. One day they'd be grey like the ashes, the second day they'd be blue, but not like the sky, like the pool he swam in at nights.

Concentrate. I remind myself.

I take a step back..and lost the balance.

That's what happens when you act stupid.

Before i fell, Grayson caught me with one hand.

His hand. My waist.

We both laughed softly, his hot breath on my mouth.

And then i kissed him. Hard and fast.

Both of us melt in this kiss.

And i could feel him slowly loosing control.

He lowered sword, his other hand traveling from my cheek to my neck, softly grabbing my hair.

And then i pulled away, sweeped my leg, turned around and swung at him again.

"Your grandfather didn't teach you to never be swayed by a sexy woman?"

Grayson opened his mouth to say something and suddenly stopped.

"Your arm- You're bleeding Lyra" Grayson panicked.

I looked at my left arm, i was indeed bleeding.

How did this happen?

He came closer to look at my arm. He looked very worried.

"Gray, it's just a scratch-"

"Just a scratch Lyra? This is an injury, we need to go back, i'll fix you up"

Grayson Hawthorne would destroy the world before he'd let anything or anyone hurt me. So there was no point in going against his will right now.

"Okay, but i'd really like to continue this later"

"Sword swinging, or the kiss?" He knew what he was doing.

I smiled as he pulled me in for a kiss.

I knew we were going to do anything like that in a hedge maze but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to.

Grayson pulled away.

"Lyra-"

"I know, i know, let's get back to the mansion."

♧◇♡♤♧◇♡♤♧◇♡♧◇♡♤♧◇♡♤♧◇♤

♧CUT♧

[timetravellibrarian]

Zoro x reader

Zoro x femreader

Summary: A man seeks to follow his dreams, following only the path his swords carve for him and wherever his crew goes. Little does he know that the missing piece in his life, his soulmate whom he doesn't admit that he tries to seek would end up in a love-hate relationship.

_________________________________________

Chapter Three

You found yourself on the very same large rock at your islands beach, eyes looking over to the ocean. The mark in your wrist reminding you of the small ache in your heart. Your soulmate.

No night ever falls without your mind going to whoever out there in the world was meant for you. Someone who would choose you first. Someone who would love you unconditionally without the expected duty. You honestly didn't know how to explain what you felt.

"Penny for your thoughts, my lady?"A whisper broke you out if your thoughts, a small squeak barely escaping your lips before you felt yourself slipping from the rocks surface. The drop would be devastating had it not been for firm arms immediately wrapping themselves around your waist and pulling you flush against the one who intruded in your quiet time.

"My lady! I'm so sorry, he– I didn't see him pass throug–"

"It's alright Lyra. I'm alright." Your eyes went to your friend who seemed to have been thrown into panic, her rushed steps trying to balance in the rocks to try and reach you. Alas you were in the arms of the man you were promised to marry, Prince Cassius.

He let out a small huff of amusement as he picked you up bridal style and headed down the variously shaped rocks with waves crashing harshly against them. Soon Lyra, Cassius and you had landed safely on the dock, the prince placing you down.

"I apologize, princess. I wished to speak with you but I had been informed that you weren't in the castle."

You nodded, a look of curiosity at what he wanted to talk to you about.

"...then I asked your sister and brothers where you ought to be at this hour and they didn't know..."

"How did you find me here?"

He smiled," I have my ways, princess. Or should I refer to you as my beloved seeing as we are to wed in a month's time."

'A MONTH!'

"Pardon, a month you say?" The mark on your wrist felt like a rocks piling up on top of your body, held up by little hope.

"Exactly why I wanted to talk to you. My father spoke with the king and have agreed on a date at around this time next month.

You stayed silent. Looking up at his chestnut brown eyes,the unnoticeable freckles on his face. His sharp nose. 'My children might inherit that'

"I know this is a large step for you." His hands went to yours, fingers trailing over R.Z that's was etched onto your wrist by fate. His lip quirked down in unnoticeable displeasure at its sight. " I will do my best to love you as much as any soulmate would. Maybe even more."

His eyes locked onto yours longer than you were used to, his words were like a promise. One that wouldn't be broken. But promises are merely words used to appease fools. Maybe right now you would allow yourself to believe. What could possibly go wrong?

_______________________________________

"Don't you wonder who your soulmate is?" Sanji said as he placed a cigarette to his lips. His eyes went to the uncovered mark on Zoro's wrist. The whole time he had gotten to know the swordsman he never heard much word about his soulmate. The matter shut down with a glare or met with silence.

Everyone present on deck almost held their breath. Robin , Nami, even Luffy.

"I have thought about them." Zoro answered, taking a sip of the bottle in his hands,"I've never stopped." And true to his word he never has.

The sun never rose without his mind wandering to the mark on his wrist. The one connection he had with the person who was truly meant for him.

All his life Zoro had been fighting. He fought in Shimotsuki Village, growing up. He fought in Shells Town before and after he met Luffy. Now he's in Skypeia and he's fought since since Enel had discovered them. Almost everyday he fights to fulfill his dream. To become the world's greatest swordsman.

But do dreams keep a man warm? Do dreams chase after him as much as he does?

He loves his crew, would die for them even. But what is this feeling of loneliness that lies deep within the pit of his stomach and cuts deeper that a sword against his skin.

He looked at the swirly haired cook, the bane of his existence.

"Then why don't you try to find them?!" Luffy yelled, his face staying in confusion. "They're somewhere out there aren't they?"

Nami slapped Luffy upside the head. "Don't be an idiot Luffy. The world's too big. He or she could be anywhy."

"Not to mention that anyone can have those initials." Robin added, paging through her book.

"And they could possibly be a marine, a rival pirate, a serial killer, an arsonist, a murderer and other very bad things." Chopper added as he came back from restocking the infirmary. He sat down beside Robin as she read.

"You guys really know how to cheer up a guy," Sanji said as he blew out a puff of smoke," Those are realistic expectations. But let's be positive for a second."

"Skip the positivity, I'd rather not sit around and wait to be swept off my feet. Life goes on. I'm sure wherever my soulmate is she's fine." Zoro took one last gulp of his drink. Washing down the sense of foreboding that plagued his senses

_________________________________________

She in fact wasn't gonna be fine

@mars-mizuko

@bi-narystars

@mythicallystupid

@urbisexualfriend

[freesia-writes]

Ch 20: Keytoll

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.6k

Author's Note -- I couldn't resist publishing this a lil early... I'm excited for the next few chapters!!

.

“Hunter!” Lyra burst through his shop door. “Hunter?” she peered around the counter, stepping back in surprise as he appeared from the back. “Hey! Sorry... Um… Listen, I have to go. Urgently. There’s an old friend of mine that I’ve been trying to find for years, and she just contacted me and is trying to find a safe place to disappear. I’m taking the next shuttle to Keytoll to meet her.”

“Alright,” Hunter said slowly. His brow furrowed. “Though last I heard, Keytoll is a fairly popular outpost for the Empire… Not exactly a good idea…”

“I have no choice,” she said, with a fervence that hinted at a much greater depth. 

“You trust this person?”

“I’d give my life for her in a heartbeat.”

“Wow. That’s big talk for you.”

“I mean it.” Her earnestness was compelling, and Hunter nodded slowly, eyes darting from her to the ground as he considered the options. 

“You gonna be safe?”

“I mean… I’ll do my best,” she said with a helpless shrug. “I’ve gotten this far.”

“Want some backup?”

“What?” She looked up at him quizzically.

“Want… Some help? A second pair of eyes? Extra protection?” He was offering it as vaguely as possible, but realized with each passing word how much he wanted her to ask him to come along.

“I don’t want to ask you to do that,” she said, averting her own eyes now. “This is my own issue, not your burden.”

“I know,” he nodded, untying his apron with a calm intentionality now. “But if you’ll have me, I’m coming.”

“Okay… Um, thanks. That really means a lot. But at any point if you change your mind, it’s okay…” She shifted anxiously from foot to foot, still nervously staring at the floor. 

“I’ll meet you at the station,” he confirmed with a nod, reaching out to grasp her hand as she turned to flit back out the door. They exchanged a meaningful glance, and he squeezed her hand before releasing it and watching her leave.

* * * 

The off-world transport was a clunky old thing that seemed to be under maintenance more often than it was actually running. It had a few routes to nearby systems, where travelers could catch a ride to more popular destinations, and Keytoll was a backwater planet in the Outer Rim that, aside from being a transportation hub, didn’t have much going for it. It was decently populated in its capital city, which shared a name with the planet, but the rest of it was dusty wasteland. The city was full of tall clay buildings that rose in slightly rounded squares and rectangles from the center outward. 

Hunter had put together a bit of a disguise, a fabric wrap concealing his head and face except for his eyes and a thick, dusty cloak hanging from his shoulders. He wanted to be extremely forgettable, and in the arid climate of Keytoll, he’d look just like anyone else. Lyra already wore neutral, simple clothing, but he was surprised to see that she’d gone to great lengths to braid her hair up around her head so its length was impossible to tell, and the dramatic makeup on her face was definitely a contrast from the usual. Her eyes were framed by bold swipes of black that curved up at the ends and her eyelids were brushed with smoky dark gray. The gentle shape of her lips was made to look much fuller with liner and a splash of deep red. Everything about her features was not only accentuated but changed, and he was impressed with just how much she looked like an entirely different person by taking a completely opposite approach than he had.

She took his arm as they boarded the shuttle, the look in her eyes intense and difficult to read. They sat in the back where they could see everyone getting on, and he could feel anticipation coursing through her veins. 

“You… uh… You look…” he began, but she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Like an underworld performer, I know.”

“Well, I mean…” he paused, deciding between two responses. “You’re the one who said it.”

She laughed, relaxing a tiny bit, and stole a glance at him before returning to her vigilant scan of the other passengers. “How did you know what they wear there? This is impressively accurate.” She gave the cloak a little tug, unable to resist one last lingering look at his hawkish eyes. 

“Tech,” he said simply.

“Ah. Handy.”

“So do you want to tell me a little more about what we’re getting into?” he asked, his voice a little constricted. They’d both been so slow to open up to one another, but the way they’d nestled into each other’s lives and hearts was undeniable. He still wanted to respect her privacy, but this was a notably different sort of activity for her, and his curiosity was getting the better of him. And, more importantly, any mission needed solid intel and strategy to be successful. The ship’s engines came online, shuddering into motion as the boarding ramp folded up and the takeoff announcement began to play. 

“Breslin is… a dear friend. Family, really. We got separated when we left Coruscant, and I was afraid she was dead from the way she just disappeared and never responded to my communication. She… um… worked with me on Coruscant, and I think she was feeling the same need for a change of pace when she left. But we’d talked about going somewhere together, and then she just… vanished.”

Hunter shifted in his seat, wildly uncomfortable with so many factors to consider. “So she suddenly found you again, now?”

“Yes, and her note was short, but it just sounded like she needed some help.”

Silence sat heavy between them for a while, Hunter feeling torn between so many courses of action. He hated going into a situation without his squad and some idea of what lay ahead, but it seemed like a relatively harmless sort of escapade, all things considered. There was a strong sense of protectiveness around Lyra, but he also had a deep desire to keep Xylo as unnoticed as possible, and each new person that learned of its existence was a potential threat to its safety and anonymity. 

“You really don’t have to do this,” Lyra repeated, her nerves apparent in every movement. 

“I know,” he assured, reaching over to take her hand in his. “It’s fine. It’s been a while since I’ve seen any action. Might be good for me.” He didn’t believe a word of what he said.

“Old habits die hard, eh?” she attempted, referring to what he’d shared about his time as a mercenary of sorts. 

“Something like that.”

When they arrived in Keytoll, they made their way through the city, keeping their heads down and appearing as inconspicuous as possible. The city was bustling with activity, species of every kind shoving their way through narrow streets and kicking up dust as they went. It was just after dinnertime, so the restaurants were releasing full and happy patrons to find their way home for the night, and Hunter kept his hand on the blaster at his side, sharp eyes scanning constantly. They arrived at their destination: a very old-looking hotel on one of the edges of a small courtyard, and after a brief check-in under a fake name, Lyra opened the door to their rented quarters for the evening. 

It was a surprisingly comfortable and clean-looking room compared to the rest of the hotel and the dilapidated buildings around it. There was a very basic kitchenette, a table with two chairs, a couple of windows facing different directions in the corner, a tiny couch facing a holoscreen, and, tucked in the back near the door to the refresher, a fairly large bed. Each lost in thought about certain aspects of their accommodation, they pushed their suitcases off to the side and locked the door, ambling about the room aimlessly after shedding most of their disguises.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Lyra said abruptly, fidgeting with her purse strap as she did when nervous. 

“Maybe half of you will,” Hunter chuckled, sitting on one side of it to demonstrate just how small it was. “We’ll figure it out.”

A pause. 

“So what’s the plan with the friend?” he continued. 

“She’s meeting us tomorrow morning. The shuttle schedules didn’t really line up so this was the best we could do. Then she’ll come back with us on the afternoon departure.”

“Sounds simple enough,” he nodded. “Where’s the meeting?”

“She said she’d send her hotel coordinates when she arrives and we can figure out a place in the middle, or just meet back at the station. Whichever is safest.”

“Mmkay.” He stretched, sidling up to the windows in the corner to scope out the surroundings. “So, until then…”

“We eat!” Lyra snickered, rummaging in her back for the few ingredients she’d brought for a simple pasta dinner. “I figured it would be better than going out…”

Hunter grinned, shaking his head fondly as she also produced a bottle of wine and began digging in the cupboards for anything to put it in. Two plastic cups and a little while later, they were nestled on the tiny couch while pasta sauce simmered on the stove. 

“What do you miss most about your action days?” Lyra asked, absently swirling the red liquid in her small cup. A sigh escaped Hunter’s lips as memories sprang to mind indiscriminately, each one demanding attention as much as the rest. But they all seemed gray… heavy… so much pain and loss that had gotten him to where he was now. “Sorry, maybe that’s not fun to talk about right now,” Lyra added sheepishly.

“No, there’s just… a lot,” he began. “I mean, not a lot that I miss. But some of it, I suppose. It was fairly cut and dry… Here’s the job, you take it, you do it. Then you wait around until the next one.”

“Sounds pretty monotonous.”

“Heh. I mean, if every mission being a different objective with a risk to your life in a new way is monotonous, then sure.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to downplay the dangers,” she corrected quickly. “I just mean… there’s not a lot of freedom for you to choose your own path? Although I guess you could at any point, since the jobs are all on an individual basis.”

“Yeah… But we were kinda in a groove for a while. And,” he hesitated, considering the similar conversation he’d had with Omega months ago. “It’s a little simpler because you have one straightforward purpose. Now… I don’t know. I sometimes feel like I’m living a lie.”

Lyra’s heart rate picked up noticeably, and she tilted to be able to face him more fully. “How so?”

“So much of my life was constant chaos, I never had much time to sit around and make my own choices. All this stuff, as wonderful as it is,” he noted, lightly stroking the back of her arm, “just feels… Too simple. Like it’s all going to fall to pieces somehow. And I’ll have been too distracted by all the fluff to have seen it coming or be able to prevent it.”

“I mean…” She struggled to find the right words. “What’s the alternative? Bounty hunting for the rest of your life? You’d always have to be looking over your shoulder.”

“Yeah,” he conceded. “Maybe I’m just too… whatever… to believe that it could really be this pleasant. 

“Should I try to make it less pleasant?” she asked, her attempt at humor slightly hampered by her strong undercurrent of discomfort at his words. 

“And how would you go about that?” he challenged, mildly amused.

“We could always get that girl to come and beat you up again.”

“Cheap shot,” he grumbled, elbowing her gently in the side as she chuckled, relaxing a bit more into her normal self. “Although I do think I need to exercise more,” he continued, “because my pants are getting a little too tight with all your delicious cooking.”

“We can start hiking up the mountain instead of cuddling on the couch all the time,” she suggested. 

“That sounds terrible.”

“It really does.”

It was far later than usual when they finally sat down for dinner, the cozy details of their homes notably missing from the generic layout of the hotel room. They ate rather quickly around some halting conversation then wordlessly began getting ready for bed. After locking herself in the refresher for a while, Lyra emerged, having cleaned off all her makeup and loosened her hair back into a braid down the middle of her shoulder blades. She had a thin robe wrapped around herself, the hems of pajama pants poking out the bottom, and Hunter felt a wave of affection at the sight.

He’d brushed his teeth and washed his face in the kitchen sink, quickly changing into soft black pants and a long-sleeved henley while she was in the refresher, and his hair fell in loose waves around his face. Lyra busied herself by plugging in her commlink on the nightstand next to the bed, then, with nothing left to do, they stared at each other for a few moments, each fidgeting slightly while waiting for the other to talk. 

“The bed is pretty big,” she observed, keeping her face carefully neutral. Hunter nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I don’t think anyone should sleep on that couch,” he added. 

Moving as they spoke, they found themselves each on a side of the bed, pulling the covers back tentatively before climbing in. Lyra paused to remove her robe, revealing a ridiculously endearing pajama set with long pants, a loose button-up top, and a dainty floral pattern. Hunter hid a smile, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, and Lyra did the same for a few minutes before finally rolling on her side to face him. 

“I mean… We’ve slept on the couch before… Why does this feel so different?” she confessed, and he noticed the flush on her cheeks and the way she tucked her hands protectively in front of her chest. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he offered, lifting an arm to invite her in, trying hard to appear breezy despite his own pounding pulse and the intoxication of his senses from all that the situation entailed. She hesitated for a moment, subtly biting her lip before slowly scooting across the bed to tuck herself against his side, nestling her head into the soft crook of his shoulder and resting a hand on his chest. His arm held her gently, other hand laying atop hers, and he sighed in deep contentment. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she murmured, nuzzling a little closer to his neck and sending a little shiver down his spine. He hummed his agreement, trying to focus on anything but the softness of her body pressed along his and the calm affection that radiated from her hand where it lay over his heart. 

* * * 

Early in the morning, the quiet buzzing of the commlink woke Lyra with a start, and she rolled over to look at it, casting a quick glance back at Hunter’s sleeping form. His shirt was twisted, pulled tight against the curve of his side as it rose and fell steadily. She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the words on the screen, then got up and snuck into the refresher, emerging a few minutes later fully dressed.

She tiptoed over to Hunter’s side of the bed, unable to resist brushing a tendril of hair from his face, and she bent down slowly, caressing the side of his cheek as he remained unmoving. Indescribable depths of emotion swirled in her eyes as she gazed at his features, leaning in to press one last kiss to his temple. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes in a singular, poignant moment of regret before tearing herself away and slipping out the door.

.

Song: “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi

.

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[beenbaanbuun]

Hey bunny! Sorry for bothering you when I'm sure you're in the middle of perfecting the addams!matz fic, but I have a kinda specific request I'm not sure I'd trust anyone else with.

I've been feeling kinda low on the self esteem/body image scales, but whenever I look for comfort fics I find that a lot of them cater towards chubby or curvier readers, which is great! I'm really happy that authors are doing that... but as someone who has the figure of a crayon, and is insecure about not being curvy or "feminine" enough, or worse that I appear child-like, it kinda just serves as a reminder some days T-T

So would it be too self indulgent to request a comfort/body worship fic with either Mingi or Yeosang with an s/o who's not curvy and is insecure about it?

No hard feelings if that's outta your comfort zone tho! I geddit ^^

Have a good day bunny, hope you have nothing but happy, snuggly, cozy vibes <33

~Lyra

i get where you’re coming from completely!! i feel like as a curvier girl i’m very lucky because it’s fairly easy to find fics catered towards me. i guess due to my own ignorance i haven’t really taken notice of a lack of fics that don’t cater to me but now you point it out i can see that it’s definitely true! i hope that i can write this perfectly for you because i feel like everyone should have fics that include them!

so i’m under the impression that mingi does not give a fuck about body type in the slightest

i mean we’ve all seen his fan calls - the man flirts with anyone regardless of body type and he’s so real for that!

but despite your boyfriend’s love and affection, sometimes your own brain gets to you a little

and sometimes the time you spend picking yourself to pieces in the mirror increases to a level that’s become concerning to mingi

he’ll catch you from time to time, just standing there and running your hands over your form

and, sure, he may be a little oblivious sometimes, but he isn’t dumb; he knows that it can’t be anything good

it’s not really a surprise when the two of you are getting ready for a date night and he catches you doing the exact same thing

he doesn’t say anything as he crawls on the bed, choosing to relax as he waits for you to finish, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried

still, even with him wondering whether or not you’re okay, he can’t help but admire how pretty you look in that dress

the way it elegantly hugs your body, stopping at mid-thigh to reveal just enough of your pretty legs to draw him in, but not enough to send him feral

well, even more feral than usual that is; you could be dressed in a pair of ratty old pyjamas and that man would still find something to make his dick twitch

“mingi,” you say after a short while of him admiring you, “do you think i look alright?”

his brow furrows and he scoffs in dismay

he’s almost offended in a way because how dare someone say something like that about his girl?

then he remembers that you are his girl and the fact that you’re saying it should probably be more cause for concern than offense

“you look better than alright, princess,” he says, “you think i’d be sat here undressing you with my eyes if i didn’t?”

you send him a glare through the mirror

“that’s not the point, mingi,” you grumble, “i know you think i’m hot but…”

“but what?” he asks, voice thick with worry, “you’re not worried about what other people think of you, right?”

you begin to shake your head, although you feel like your denial isn’t necessarily true

so instead you shrug, and with a sigh you tear yourself away from the mirror so you can go and sit on the edge of the bed next to mingi

he budges his legs over, making space for you to perch yourself on the mattress

“i mean i guess so?” you say, “i just… i don’t want people thinking i look like a child or something, y’know?”

mingi doesn’t know - the last thing he thinks of you is ‘child’, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he can’t try and sympathise

he shifts one of his hands from behind his head to rub against your arm soothingly

“i don’t think you look like a child,” he says, “i think you look like my girlfriend; my very pretty, very sexy girlfriend, very mature-looking girlfriend.”

and while you appreciate his words, you can’t help but feel like they don’t mean much coming from him

it makes you feel bad, of course, but your boyfriend telling you you’re hot just doesn’t fill you with confidence about what everyone else thinks

“you don’t count,” you pout, “you have to think i’m hot.”

you don’t see the way mingi rolls his eyes before shoving himself into a sitting position

he shuffles his way over until he’s right behind you, close enough to swaddle your upper half in his overly-lengthy arms

he squeezes tight, just how he knows you like it

“i don’t have to think anything,” he kisses the spot just below your ear, “i think you’re hot because i have eyes and i can see that you’re hot.”

you can’t help but giggle as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, puffing out blasts of warm air against the sensitive skin

he always could find a way of making you laugh, even if in this situation, you’d personally class it as cheating

“well,” you say through your giggles, “i also have eyes and my eyes say the opposite!”

“yeah, but i don’t trust your eyes,” he kisses you, wet and sloppy and soft, against where your shoulder meets your neck, “they’re connected to your brain and me and your brain aren’t the best of friends.”

his hand move until they’re flat against your ribs, thumbs smoothing over the fabric of your dress

he almost wished the dress wasn’t there at all, wanting to feel the skin to skin contact, but he hardly thought now was the best time to ask you to strip

“you love my brain,” you counter, “my brain is me and you always tell me you love me!”

he smiles; you feel his teeth brush against you

“true,” he says, “but your brain is also mean to you, and anyone who’s mean to my baby is my enemy, okay?”

it’s a silly argument, but you can’t help but nod along in agreement

“good,” he says as he feels you give into his compliments, “now we have two choices; we either go out on the date, or we lie here and cuddle. it’s up to you, princess.”

you know which one he’d prefer; the way he’s stuck himself to you back like a limpet is enough evidence of that

but you can’t quite decide for yourself

one one hand you’re already dressed and made up, plus the fact that you’ve been wanting to go to this place for ages now and tables are really hard to book

on the other, taking the uncomfortable shoes off and crawling into bed next to your overly-clingy boyfriend seemed just so tempting

perhaps the choice isn’t that hard after all, you realise as you lean over - boyfriend still very much attached to you - to grab your makeup wipes

“pick a film, then,” you instruct as you take one out of the packet and begin to rub at your face, “and make it a good one!”

[kanekoii]

Hello, may I request luxiem x reader, where in the process of time travel, they lost reader. It can end with a reunion or anything you want.

If this is too angsty for, may I request a any xsoleil boys x short reader?

lyra's notes -> YOUVE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE FOR ANGST BBY

pairings -> luxiem x gn! reader

genre -> slight angst but mostly fluff

song -> a thousand years - christina perri (im sorry i just love this song and twilight go brr)

warnings -> casinos in luca’s part, i'm sorry i got so dramatic with this, NO spoilers for the vox movie :), SOULMATES AU and weird time travel aging things that are circumvented with red threads and soulmates

VOX AKUMA ->

he thought he lost you when his clan was slaughtered. he honestly thought he would never even hope to see you again and mourned the nonexistent loss of your life. yet as hundreds of years went by, the voice demon gave himself a more human appearance in order to fit in with all the people around him. yet, vox could never even begin to comprehend the idea of having lost you, his beloved whom he had tied a red thread to, therefore sharing the longevity of his own life through the ideal and overly romanticized soulmate. the thread around your wrist matched his own, somehow never coming undone despite his belief that you were dead. yet, somehow, for some reason, he still believed he'd find you one day. one day...

you pulled your umbrella up against the pouring rain, heart beating so fast for an unknown reason. as you held your umbrella, your long sleeves fell to reveal the thread that was tied around your wrist and had been for hundreds of years. the ever so brightly dyed thread began to glow as you walked into the bustling crowd.

vox had told you that, if you were ever separated, your red thread would begin to glow when you were nearby him. you dropped your umbrella, looking wildly around the crowd until you saw someone staring at you with eyes that were so familiar to you for a reason you couldn't understand. he was tall, skin porcelain pale with slight blurs of red near the outer corners of his golden eyes. messy black hair fell over one eye and his shoulders, shining slightly red in the sun's light that had begun to peek through the dark clouds. him. vox. his eyes met yours as the world itself seemed to fall away. the rain didn't even matter as you ran to him and into his arms, not even talking. you knew it was him by the thread tied around his neck as a choker. he was yours and you were his, soulmates, connected.

MYSTA RIAS ->

back in the 1920s when mysta was supposed to live, he had consulted a sorcerer to bind your souls together. the sorcerer had been hesitant at first, but eventually agreed to bind your souls through the usage of a red thread tied around both your wrists. it would not only prolong your lives and give the longest lifespan between the both of you to be shared, but it would glow if one was thinking about another.

mysta had disappeared a long, long time ago, over a hundred years. your thread that had never untied had never stopped glowing for a long period of time, it glowed ever so bright every single day. yet, you had nearly no hope of ever finding him. there was an ever so small part of you that wanted to find mysta again, but it was commonly overrun by hopelessness that you could ever even begin to try.

time stood still as he tackle hugged you in the gentle snow, teal blue eyes tearing up at the sight of you again. he couldn’t believe his teary eyes. seeing you, laughing with tears in your eyes as well, breath turning to steam in the cold air with snow powdering your hair and face, blushing at the sight of your boyfriend again made mysta remember just how much he loved you. even then, he hasn’t forgotten. maybe he didn’t remember how much he loved you.

maybe his love for you had just increased tenfold.

LUCA KANESHIRO ->

the mafia boss knew his job was very dangerous and there was a chance that your safety wasn’t guaranteed, but he couldn’t bring himself to separate from you. the thread that connected you never broke throughout the years, even though you had been torn from him in a bout of time travel that you couldn’t fully comprehend. why, then? why did you still try to find him over a hundred years after he disappeared?

thunder boomed outside, slightly shaking the earth as you sat in the casino he was said to own. the bustling atmosphere didn’t do any favors in the way of finding him in the crowd. the casino was filled with loud voices and bright lights, rendering you nearly unable to find luca until the thread on your ring finger began glowing. you looked up to see someone else looking wildly around with his hand raised slightly, a thread on the same finger. he was tall, muscular, blonde hair that faded into a nearly black color that contrasted with his lavender colored eyes.

as if it was meant to be, the casino quieted to you. it was likely that it didn’t quiet at all, but rather you stopped registering it as you leaped into his arms. the world knew he was a tough mafia boss and crying was generally off the table, but could it not be excused when he had just been reunited with his lover?

IKE EVELAND ->

all his writings had been about you in the years you were separate due to his time travel. he loved you so dearly that nearly everything reminded him of you, so he would write about you in some halfhearted attempt to bring you back. he knows it likely won’t happen and he’d never see you again, but the thread that signified his commitment to you had never broken, meaning you weren’t dead and that you still loved him. if the string frayed or broke, it meant you no longer harbored love for him, but as time went on the thread had grown stronger and became nearly indestructible.

he stood in the field he knew you’d be, facing the other way. he seemed to be writing something in the notebook he always carried with him. you dared to take a step closer, then two, then three. your heart beat out of your chest when he turned around to face you, eyes softening as he ran towards you with tears running from his face.

from that day forward, ike would work to make it so you’d never be forcefully separated again. it felt as if he was dying every single day you were apart, and you had finally returned to bring him back to life and bring the light back into his eyes.

SHU YAMINO ->

when he had used one of the few non-curse related things he knew to connect your souls using a brightly colored red thread, you never expected that it would never weaken or sever even after he had inexplicably disappeared. even after you were transported to the present day, it would be nearly impossible to find him. he would dress and act completely different in modern society after all, the only way you’d be able to recognize him would be his signature hair colors.

yet, walking through a crowded shopping district, the thread on your ring finger began to glow almost brighter than the sun itself as you whipped your head around wildly to find shu. only after he met your eye did you begin to comprehend that your lover, whom you had been searching for, for hundreds of years was standing in front of you, his arms outstretched as if inviting you into his warm and comforting embrace.

he smelled like the ocean, soft and calming. you didn’t have to say anything in that moment and neither did he, just enjoying each other’s embrace after so long being separated. his embrace was so tight as if you’d disappear again if he let go, but…

he doesn’t have to worry about that now that you’ve been reunited, does he?

[kyleoreillylover]

INSTAGRAM AU! Dominik Mysterio x Black!Fem!Reader

A/N: I got inspired by a fanfic like this, so I thought I'd take matters into my own hands and write one for my man Dominik. This took so long, so I hope you guys enjoy!

LIKED BY DOMINIK MYSTERIO, RHEA RIPLEY AND 2 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: dream world ☀️ pic creds to rhea :)

VIEW COMMENTS

dominikmysterio: my dream girl ;)

↳y/n: and don't you ever forget it ☺️

↳ rhearipley: dom dom don't forget that she was mine first!!

↳dominikmysterio: but now she's mine, not yours. sorry not sorry, mami 🤷

↳ynstan134: the girls are fighting 😭 Dom you better stop you know Rhea would beat your ass for y/n 😭

↳y/n: ladies, ladies, calm down, there's enough for me to go around 😉

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

LIKED BY Y/N, FINN BALOR, RHEA RIPLEY AND 3 MILLION OTHERS

dominikmysterio: Kicked ass in the ring, and in WWE 2k23 (sorry not sorry babe).

tagged: y/n

VIEW COMMENTS

y/n: fr (I literally beat your ass in every single match and you told me to take it easy on you but it's whatever)

↳y/nstan123: LMAOO DOM WHY ARE YOU LYING

↳dominikmysterio: mi corazon why are you lying on my name 🤔 gaslighting is not healthy

↳y/n: I guess the pics I took of me winning are me gaslighting you then?

↳dominikmysterio: baby of course it's gaslighting, I don't expect anything less from you 🙄

damienpriest: bro didn't even let his girl win 😂 (you called me and finn on ft and complained about her winning)

↳y/nlover234: I love how everyone is just exposing Dom 😭

↳dominikmysterio: bro your supposed to be on my side!! ¿Qué pasa con el código hermano??!

↳damienpriest: Sorry bro, eras tú o Rhea y y/n me golpeó el trasero. 🤷

------------------------------------------------------------

LIKED BY WWE, DAMIEN PREIST, RHEA RIPLEY AND 2 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: You're either with us or beneath us 😈

tagged: dominikmysterio

VIEW COMMENTS

y/nstan234: the way he looks at her 🥹😭

finnbalor: so proud of everything you accomplished ❤️

↳y/n: thank you good sir ❤️ couldn't imagine ruling the wwe without you by my side

↳domlover619: this is so cute 😭 you and finn as a duo are so underrated

dominikmysterio: can I be on top of you?

↳tjdstan: ??!! DOM 😭 have some decorum

↳y/nlover134:bro can barely control himself in the ring with her, ya'll thought he would control himself on instagram 😭

↳y/n: sorry babe, that spot is reserved for rhea only 🤷 No hard feelings though! 😘

↳tjdstan: LMAAOO 😭 that's tough dom 😂

↳rhearipley: as it should be, love. sorry not sorry dom dom 🥰

↳damianpriest: you see me personally dom... i wouldn't take that disrespect. but that's just me 🤷

↳finnbalor: damien priest, mitb holder, tag team champion and number 1 instigator.

↳dominikmysterio: Priest, no me obligues a 619 tu trasero!

------------------------------------------------------------

LIKED BY DOMINIK MYSTERIO, LIV MORGAN, FINN BALOR AND 3 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: we are very nice people I swear 🥰

VIEW COMMENTS

finnbalor: the nicest people I know (I'm being held against my will)

rhearipley: the both of you throw a fit whenever there are no chicken tenders on a menu

↳y/n: bc why aren't my chicken tenders there?? it should be the basis of every restaurant 🙄

↳dominikmysterio: exactly! because if a restaurant doesn't have chicken is it really a restaurant?

↳rhearipley: ....ya'll are made for each other.

dominikmysterio: I don't know why people don't like us we're literally so sweet like wtf🤨

↳y/n: exactly! idk why people in the wwe hate our guts! like what did we do to ya'll??!

↳tjdstan: didn't ya'll literally attack ilja and lyra last night 😭

↳y/n: they literally attacked us first?? are you blind? you call yourself a tjd Stan but you aren't acting like one!!

↳wwenxt: we love a gaslighting queen

↳tjdstan: I'm sorry?! 😭 but they wouldn't have hit ya'll if you guys didn't literally deck them first outta nowhere 😭

damienpriest: no lies were told

↳y/n: and that's why you are my 2nd fav 🥰

↳damienpriest: thank you chica, but why am I not first?

↳y/n: bc rhea exists??? what kind of question is that.

↳dominikmysterio: what about me, mi vida??

↳rhearipley: you heard the lady, dom.

↳y/n: sorry baby, it's the truth 🤷 better luck next time 💋

↳tjdlover: rhea x y/n wins every time dom, you need to get with the program!!!

THIS COMMENT WAS LIKED BY Y/N AND RHEA RIPLEY.

[stephaniebrownslover]

Hİİİİ YET ANOTHER ANON

Can I ask about Creepypasta ages headcanons in your main AU??

THANK YOU FROM NOW <333

HIIIIIIII NEW ANON, YOU'RE SO SWEET<3333

Okay thank you so much for asking, you guys are literally spoiling me, like I'm having a little heart attack whenever someone asks me something.

I don't want this post just be numbers so I'll give a random fact about main characters' most important birthday day and something about non-human characters, hope you don't mind. It's mostly angst and I'm so sorry about that.

YOU'RE WELCOME AND I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT<333

I know most of the ages sound ridiculous but it's really hard to attach them all together :(

Characters' Ages And Facts About Main Characters' Most Important Birthday

Au's ships: TicciWork, NinaKate, MaryJane and Bloody Angel(probably should've said this earlier)

Current year: 2014

Main characters

-Jeff The Killer: 20

Jeff got burned at the age of 15, at his most important birthday. His parents were seeing a therapist while Liu was still in prison, and his therapist made a suggestion to Jeff's parents to organize a birthday party for cheering Jeff up. Jeff can never forget the day he was burned alive because his whole life was shaped by it. That's why he hates his own birthday and attacks if anyone tries to celebrate besides Liu.

- Clockwork: 20

Clockwork's most important birthday is the 18th age. Because that was the first year she wasn't on her own. Jeff, Toby, Nina were close friends of Clockwork at the time and each had their own small-scale celebration. For the first time, Clockwork didn't hate her own birthday. That's how she got into the habit of celebrating other people's birthdays, if she felt good about something stupid like that, the people who cared about her might also deserve to feel good in a stupid way, or something like that.

- Hoodie: 25

According to Brian, the most important birthday is the one he celebrated at the age of 10. His family had taken him to see a theater as a gift, and little Brian was so impressed that he was literally obsessed with theater performances and musicals after that show. Even though 10-year-old Brian is the reason why he is where he is right now, Hoodie never blames him for following his dream.

- Masky: 26

His most important birthday is the 20th, when he started working under Slenderman's orders. The year he realized that his life would be like this and that he would have to spend more than he hoped in this job, that fighting would only cause him to die sooner. Obviously, he didn't care about himself, he'd rather die than live this way, but he didn't want to leave Brian alone.

- Ticci Toby: 19

15th birthday. The last year he celebrated with Lyra and his mother since he was a proxy at the age of 16, he celebrated rest of his birthdays as a proxy. Toby doesn't remember all of his memories, and although most of the time his memories are more like pieces, he knows that two women named Lyra and Connie are worth worlds to him. And every time the fragments of that birthday come in front of him, he feels nothing but happiness.

-Eyeless Jack: 21

↺Actually, if he was still alive, he would have been 34. Because he was 21 when he died during the ritual in 1980.

The most important birthday is the year he received the letter of admission to medical school at the age of 18. He had received this letter a few days ago, and he and his family had thrown a big party to celebrate it. Although he spent his 19th birthday, his first year of studying med, with his family, the most important thing for him is his 18th age.

-Jane The Killer: 22

21, when Mary proposed to her on her birthday. Jane was in a very emotionally repressed state after all her trauma, and Mary could no longer control her feelings for her. While Jane and her lover Mary were sitting in a fashionable restaurant, Mary proposed to Jane. And when there was a lot of opposition because the age group was generally old due to the cost of the restaurant, Jane kissed her on the lips so as not to discourage Mary. The best birthday of her life.

-X-Virus: 17

7th age. That year, he had gone to the zoo on a school trip and celebrated his birthday with the animals there instead of people. This is the biggest proof that he prefer animals' existence to humans. Of course, he might have been happier if a monkey hadn't stolen his food, but little Cody wasn't mad at the monkey then. And when the monkey saw that Cody was upset later, he gave him some of his food anyway.

-Nina The Killer: 19

16th birthday. She and Jeff hadn't made up yet and it was a day when she was really hurt emotionally by him. Her close friend Kate, who saw this, tried to kill Jeff. Although Nina could hardly stop her, Kate was convinced later and they went to hang out at Kate's special place together. Kate was a really special friend to Nina, and she liked that she knew that Kate opened herself up so much. And when Kate dropped her home in the evening, she found Toby and Clockwork were clumsily trying to celebrate her birthday, she cried because of cuteness.

-Kate The Chaser: 20

The first year she spent with Nina as a lover, 20th age. They had become lovers a few months ago, and unlike other proxies, Kate did not remember anything about her past, so she had no memories to miss. Nina had known her since she found Jeff at the age of 15 and was after him. They became close friends when Kate was 17 and Nina was 16, and they started dating when Nina was 19 and Kate was 20. Their relationship began when Kate took pity on Nina and helped her, and Nina helped her during difficult times where Kate tried to expertize in proxy work. The year they became lovers, Nina organized a special day just for the two of them, knowing that she wouldn't want a big party, and Kate's favorite moment was when they watched the sunset with one head phone.

Main supporting characters

-Homicidal Liu: 18

-Sally: 13

↺If she was still alive, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1972.

-Ben Drowned: 12

↺If he had continued to live, he would have been 32 years old. He died in 1994.

- Puppeteer: 23

↺ If his heart was still beating, he would have been 37 years old. He died in 2000.

-Zero: 24

-Nurse Ann: 27

↺If her heart had been alive, she would have been 33 years old. She died in 2008.

-Bloody Painter: 17

-Judge Angels: 17

-Mary Vaughn: 22

Supporting characters

-Lulu: 16

-Laughing Jack: 214

↺He was produced in 1800.

-Nightmare Ally: 15

↺If she was still human, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1974.

- Kagekao: 29

↺If he was still a human, he would have been 34 years old. He died in 2009.

-Rouge: 32

-Jason The Toymaker: 134

↺He was produced in 1880.

-Laughing Jill: 114

↺She was produced in 1900.

Background characters

-Slenderman: 2500+(?)

↺It is not known exactly when he was born, some say that there are drawings of him even in ancient Egypt.

- Emra: 25

↺If she was still alive, she would have been 37 years old. She died in 2002.

-Dr. Smiley: 33

-Cat Hunter: 30

-Zalgo: ?

↺It is estimated that his existence endured back even before the earliest times of humanity.

-Weeping Forest: 16

↺If she had not undergone this change, she would have been 56 years old. She died in 1974.

[yasmimkilleruwu]

your headcanons about toby? :D

Some hcs about Toby ^^

Connie, Lyra and Toby wore a matching lanyard, they each had one, but Toby ended up losing his and ended up without it, he actually looked everywhere but couldn't find it, after Lyra's death Toby's mother gave it to him Lyra's necklace for Toby, so he would always remember her and have her close by.

Under no circumstances touch Toby's cord.

He tried to take his own life several times, but Slenderman didn't allow him to do so, but Slenderman doesn't stop him from hurting himself.

Eyeless Jack helps Toby stop cutting himself, he knows how many and where each scar is, so when Toby gets a new cut, he tries to prevent Jack from touching it.

He lived in the mansion, but after a while he started living in a cabin with the Heartless and the X-Virus.

Toby goes days without sleeping, so X-Virus, Heartless, Kate and Eyeless Jack try to make him sleep more, because even though he doesn't have missions, he can't sleep.

Toby was a little homophobic because of his father's influence, but Lyra told him that he shouldn't listen to their father, as it was a bad thought, so he didn't care so much, but his father ended up contaminating it a little his head.

Because of Toby's father's influence, Toby suppressed his feelings for Eyeless Jack and ignored Eyeless Jack for a long time, only going to Eyeless Jack if he really had to, but that didn't last long.

After Toby's father's influence passed, Toby started to wear more extravagant clothes, but he only wears this type of clothes sometimes, he started to accept the clothing suggestions that Nina suggested for him. {Jack liked this change .}

He convinced Eyeless Jack to wear more extravagant and elegant clothes too, as he wanted Eyeless Jack to wear clothes that showed off his body more.

Also influenced by his father, Toby repressed all the feelings he had, his father scolded him when he was crying, saying he was weak and several other things.

Toby is the type of person who forgets everything he's supposed to do, but Eyeless Jack is almost always there to remind Toby of everything.

He gets distracted very easily, so Kate or Hoodie give him missions separately from the other proxies, so they can explain everything so he doesn't get distracted by others.

He used to bring hidden animals to the mansion, so he could have some kind of company, but he stopped when he saw that Slenderman killed them all.

He and the X-Virus are afraid of spiders, this fear got worse when the Heartless caught their attention saying that she had something to show, and when she opened her mouth a spider came out of her mouth.

He's very flexible, he does a lot of crazy poses and of course he doesn't mind as he doesn't feel pain.

It is very common for blood to come out of his nose, as he is almost always stressed.

Sometimes he hurt himself on purpose just to see Jack, because there was a time when he could only see Jack if he was hurt.

Toby's favorite birthday was when, in the afternoon, he had a big party thrown by his closest friends and in the evening Eyeless Jack made a big dinner for the two of them, he received several gifts that day.

He hates being called Ticci, he doesn't know himself or actually doesn't remember why, but he really hates being called that.

Toby is one of the most agile and fast proxies, he is very dangerous if you really irritate him.

He is demiromantic and pansexual. {He is also asexual, but he still feels sexual attraction, but very little.}

{I have several hcs about him, I already said some in another post I made talking about him and Eyeless Jack.}

{And I'm sorry for any writing errors.}