#tristan thorn fanfiction

[munsonownsmyass]

Dream a little dream of me

Tristan Thorn x reader

Notes: This is my first time writing for Tristan. I hope I've done him justice. But when @itwasthereaminuteago sent the ask, I couldn't say no. Thank you for the ask, hun 💜

Warnings: None. Pure fluff, although there is very little spice sprinkled over it.

Days like these were your favorite. Nothing much to do, but you got to spend it with your favorite person in the whole world. Ever since childhood, you and Tristan had been inseparable, doing everything together. Even if it was something as simple as laying in the grassy fields together, watching the clouds drift by. There wasn’t always much to do in Wall, but you did quite enjoy watching the clouds, dreaming.

“Doesn’t those skies look like someone kissing?” Tristan points excitedly at another small cloud formation. You can easily see it, nodding in agreement.

“I do see it. Reminds me of a dream I had a few nights ago.” You smile at the memory, still remembering one of the best dreams you’ve ever had.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Tristan look at you with a wide grin. “I also had a dream like that, but I want to hear yours first.” Teasingly, he pokes at your side. “I want to know who can make you smile like that.”

You don’t even dare answer, cause how do you even tell your best friend that it was him you dreamt about? His mouth against yours in a passionate kiss. His hands exploring parts of your body you only want him to touch. Your skirt pushed up over your hips, Tristan’s fingers traveling up your inner thigh towards-

Shaking your head, you try to seem indifferent, knowing very well how red your face must be. “It’s nothing. Tell me about your dream instead.” You smile, doing your best to lie convincingly.

“If you insist.” He frowns a bit, probably not buying your poor excuse. But he doesn’t push it, just getting more comfortable in the tall grass as he looks up at the sky. “I dreamt I kissed you. It was at the harvest dance, and we’ve had too much ale. You asked me to dance and then… I kissed you.”

”You… dreamt about kissing me?” You can barely form the words, let alone believe them. For years, you’ve had a small hope that one day Tristan would realize that Victoria didn’t care about him. Not like you did. In fact, you had been hopelessly in love with him, but he never saw it because of her. But he dreamt about kissing you, so that must surely mean something. Right?

Tristan turns to you, a small nervous smile forming on his lips, those perfect pink lips you’ve dream about kissing more times than you could count. “Yeah, okay, so what if I dreamt about kissing you?” He shrugs, pushing up onto one elbow, looking down on you, one finger swirling around in the grass. “Don’t we all do that to our best friend?”

Just when you think he can’t get any more adorable, he has to look at you like that. His beautiful hazel eyes, so innocent, so oblivious to the desire he awakens in you.

“No, Tristan.”

“No? What do you mean ’no’?” He smiles nervously, swallowing hard as you look deeply into his eyes, wondering if you should just give hell to it all and finally kiss him. There’s nothing you want more, but you’re afraid he’ll never look at you that way again. But wouldn’t you rather know now if he feels the same, than spend more years wondering?

“I mean… I’ve never dreamt about kissing Clara. Or Yvette. But…” You look away, just for a moment, trying to settle your nerves. Here goes nothing. “I’ve dreamt about kissing you too, Tristan. But not-”

You pause, feeling like you’re on fire under his gaze. Tristan gently takes your hand, the warmth of it bringing your gaze back to his. “Not what?”

“B-but not as a friend.” You breathe out, looking into his eyes as his mouth drops open. He just stares at you, unable to form any words. Maybe he’s shocked, maybe he just doesn’t know how to tell you he doesn’t feel the same. But before he can regain his thoughts, your hand flies up to cup his cheek gently. “I think… I know… that I’m in love with you.”

When he still doesn’t answer, you fear you blew it all. But all you can think about is blurting it all out, getting it all on the table.

“You don’t have to say anything. Or even feel the same way. I know you’ve always been in love with Victoria, but she really isn’t good for you.” You ramble, unable to stop again, too mortified in yourself to even look at Tristan. “You deserve someone good. Someone who loves you. Not someone who just-”

His lips on yours stop you. It must be a dream, but it’s not. Tristan is hovering over you ever so slightly, one hand cupping your cheek so gently almost as if he fears you might break. His hazel eyes find yours and in that moment, it is as if time stands still.

“Truth is” He finally speaks, smiling nervously as he tries to find the right words. “It’s always been you. For as long as I can remember, it was you in my dreams.”

“But… Victoria?”

“Let’s be honest. Your father has never been fond of me, knowing you deserved better. And…” He pauses, stopping you gently when you move to make a rebuttal. “I always knew you were too good for this place. That you’d leave Wall one day. You’re destined for more and I won’t be the reason that-”

This time is you stopping his ramble with a kiss. This one deeper and more passionate than the first. Timidly, his hand moved to your waist pulling you a little closer. It’s not much, but the feeling of his body against yours make you feel on fire, every part of you screaming for more. Just as you move to deepen the kiss, Tristan pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Trust me, love, there’s nothing I want more than…” He stops, grinning from ear to ear. “But I won’t give your father another reason to dislike me. Let’s do this right. I… I wanna court you. Properly. If you’ll have me.”

With tears swelling in your eyes, you giggle, still unable to believe this isn’t a dream. “There’s nothing I want more.” Peppering him with soft kisses to his cheeks and lips, you feel happier than you’ve felt your whole life. Sometimes dreams do come true.

TFC girls: @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @pedrito-friskito @saintmurd0ck @mattmurdocksscars @thisishellfire

Tagging: @lucy-sky @missbeewrites

[yarrystyleeza]

The Daisy Field (T.T)

Tristan Thorn x female! Reader

No warnings, pure fluff (the usual, maybe some heated kisses??? 👉🏻👈🏻 but absolutely safe for read).

Summary: one summer morning, Tristan takes you to the daisy fields to train you how to swordfight after you begged him for long.

Word count: 1.3k!

Writer's note: as the previous time, I wrote this in less than 24 hours, I was so overwhelmed by the idea and I had to just write it, it's partially revised, maybe contains some lexical and/or grammatical issues, it's so short too, but I hope you enjoy it. <3

The high summer breeze rises, playfully raking through the green fields of fresh grass and the dancing fragrant daisies, raising a scent of life and beauty in the air and into your heaving lungs, cooling the ecstasy of your souls. The sun sends her rays upon you, as you spin around the other, eyelids flickering between the shadows and lights under the green leaves. Chirps of the little birds were heard in the far distance, and little squirrels and deers were ticking their little feet on the crispy grass, creating a beautiful hymn for the noon.

"we've been doing this for hours!" Tristan protests, letting his shoulders fall out of tiredness, his cheeks are flushed and his long hair is a dampened mess, "but it's fun!" you cheer, dancing in circles around him, you didn't mind the sunbeams, or the sweat on your forehead, or how exhausted you were after all the early morning hours, because you're having the best time with Tristan, and there's nothing more you'll ever need.

He can't help but exhale animatedly, knitting his eyebrows pitifully, shoulders falling as he lets his breath out, "come on, love--" he gestures with the wooden sword he held in his hand, "come on, Tristan! One last round, please?" you give him the puppy eyes you know he can't resist, as you slowed your pace to stop right in front of him, "please?" you envelope his neck, it's his turn to give you his puppy look, hazel eyes sparkling magically in the dim light under the big oak tree where you had settled for your picnic, "come on, Tristan, please? Just, one more round, and we'll sit on the picnic sheet the rest of the day... I promise, please?" you plead again, he wraps his arms around your waist, sighs, and looks up into your eyes again, "anything for you, my star," he smiles, to which you giggle and peck his lips quickly, wiggle out of his arms.

Since the sun has beamed on the two of you, you and Tristan had been swordfighting, as you pleaded him to teach you for many, many times, and when he finally agreed this morning, he couldn't stop you. And though this was your first day training, — and though he thought you would take a little long time in order to learn every move — but to his surprise, you learned faster than he thought you would.

Yes, he took you down in couple fights, but they were sort of a one to one situation. He kept telling you how he's being easy with you because it's your first time to fight with swords, and you took advantage of it to go as rogue as possible, knowing he'll be able to take your moves.

Now, you collected your dress up and wrapped it around your waist to free your movement, took the pins out of your hair to feel more comfortable and confident, freeing your strands to flutter in the fresh air. "you know you're distracting me with these locks of yours, love" he points at you with his sword, both of you spinning around the other like two swans in a lake dance, "you can just say that you're easy to be distracted!" you aim a swift swing of your wooden sword, slicing the air between the two of you, he parries your hit with his sword, rough edged blades are crossed between your exhilarated faces, shards of wood are flying out of their source, "I can argue about that!" he whispers, as your lips are inches away from each other, you smooch at his lips teasingly and take a dance around him, "you may speak!" you smirk, your sword blade is now on the broad of his shoulder, he chuckles, and crosses his sword with yours, swinging your hand up in the air, "I have a whole lot to say!" it was his turn to smirk at you, "poser!" you roll your eyes, taking an attack move on him, clashing the blades as he defends himself, swinging you to the side, "I was being soft," he shrugs, looking down at you as you picked up your sword as it flew out of your grasp, he softly pulls your locks to slow your movement, then takes a run across the field, and you follow him with no hesitation.

Your feet are racing each other as you go down the hill, he turns to face you, feinting a swing in your direction, you gasp, your feet falter and you stumble over the end of your dress as the skirt went loose. You grope for anything that might help you regain your balance but, to your unfortune, it was Tristan, and the moment you grab onto his shoulder, "bloody hell!" he yells, as he too loses his balance, and the two of you collide against the other and, roll down the grassy hill.

The ouchs and grunts and loud screams and giggles never left your lips as your bodies spun and got pulled down by gravity, but to your fortune, you landed smoothly, or at least it's for you. You open your eyes to see that you're topping Tristan, holding on to him for life, you part from his hold, both of you are groaning out of all the bangs you collected down the road, you settle on his waist, hands softly press onto his panting chest. Both of you breathe out a chuckle, but he has his remarkable silly smile on his face, almost showing all of his teeth.

You both stare at the other, hair is messy and filled with grass leaves and daisy petals, the noon sun casted on your reddened skins, both of you fighting to catch your breaths, if this wasn't the most beautiful scenery. You catch Tristan gazing your lips and you find yourself doing the same. Your goofy smiles slowly fade into more intimate ones, which soon turns into looks of desperation, his hands leave your waist and walk up slowly to envelope the back of your neck, with one hand tucking the hairs back behind your ear, lingering thumb brushing your reddened cheeks.

Your heart ticks a little louder and before you know it, you find yourself leaning onto him, locking your lips upon his, sipping on the sweet mixture of your mouths ever so slightly, wanting to stop the time so you could have more of your psyches tenderly intertwined with the other. You feel the sun shies her beams away to be a little more gentle on you, and the daisies moving in saltation to tickle your bare feet and heated cheeks, adding more tranquility to your heart as the time passes.

"if this is how we'll end up every time we go swordfighting, I want to swordfight every day." he whispers to your mouth after it left an inch away from his, you couldn't help but smile dumbly at his statement, following by an even dumber giggle. He pulls himself from under you, drawing you over to his thighs, his palms find your face again and cup it firmly. "you wanna continue training?" he asks softly, with a smile to the side, you push the floral hairs of his bangs back behind his ear, "I think we've had enough training for today, my back hurts... And feet... And head, too," he chuckles at your answer, and pulls you close to smile a kiss on the crown of your temple.

And so, you spend the rest of the day sitting in the field barefooted, braiding daisy crowns and laying on the wet green grass among the little summer flowers, locking your pinkies and watch as the sun goes down between the vivid shades of orange and pink upon your eyes, waiting for the shiny stars to start sparkling in the darkness of the sky so you could waste the night on counting them.

Taglist: @mindidjarin @acharliecoxedfan @v4leoftears @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass @chvoswxtch @chronicoverachiever @tiromiro-deactivated20230420

I hope you all enjoyed it, if you did, please like and reblog it would mean a lot to me <3

Have a great day besties! <3

[throneofsmut]

Can't Believe It

Tristan Flynn x Reader || WC: 520 || Warnings: None

Summary: Tristan Flynn makes Reader laugh with a shitty joke he told at work. Based off this request.

A/N: To the anon who requested this, thank you, i haven’t seen many fics for crescent city characters, so I hope you like it !!

****

You threw your head back into the fluffy pillows of Tristan’s bed as your whole body shook with laughter. Tears spilled from your eyes that were squeezed shut while you clutched your stomach.

“Babe. . . it’s not that funny,” Tristan argued in between his own laughs. 

Wiping the tears from your eyes as you sat up. “You did not say that to the cheetah-shifter you arrested last night!” You said through giggles. 

He was grinning. “I did. I swear!”

Your grin matched his. “So you mean to tell me that you arrested a cheetah-shifter for stalking his ex-girlfriend and when he complained about it you said, ‘At least it’s not for speeding.’” 

He nodded.

“And he just blinked at you?” 

“Yeah. He didn’t even laugh.” He added with a pout, but his green eyes still shone with mirth. 

You slapped your knee before falling backwards into the pillows again as you howled with laughter. Then your loud laughter turned to silent laughter as you imagined their interaction in your head. 

Tristan without a doubt wearing a cocky grin—proud of his own joke. 

You shook your head and then took a deep gasping breath. Greedily gulping in air after laughing so hard for so long. 

Head tilted upwards as you wiped tears from your cheeks again, smiling, “Burning Solas, Flynn, I haven’t laughed like that in years.” When you looked at him again he was shaking his head softly, a hint of a grin remaining on his face, “What?”

“I just can’t believe it.” He murmured.

“Can’t believe what?”

“How you look even more beautiful when you laugh.” 

You felt your cheeks heat from his words and from the way he was looking at you. Holding his gaze for another second before tearing it away and looking down at your hands. You shook your head. 

He gripped your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. Bright green eyes bore into yours. “I. . . Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” His lips curved into a genuine smile. 

Unconsciously your lips curved up into a smile too. 

He smiled wider, revealing straight white teeth and dimples. “Beautiful.” Tristan swore. 

Only a heartbeat passed before he cradled your face with both hands, leaning in and then his lips met yours in a heated kiss. 

When he pulls away, both of you are breathless and he presses his forehead to yours. “Gods, you’re so beautiful it hurts.”

Your chest rises and falls, brushing against his muscled chest, as you slowly catch your breath. Still too caught up in the kiss you just shared, you didn’t even realize you were shaking your head. 

Tristan leans back to look at you, brows furrowed, “You don’t believe me, do you?” He says with a frown.

“Flynn. . . I—“ Your words are cut off by another kiss. 

This time when he pulls away, his arms wrap around you in a hug and he rests his chin atop your head. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you how beautiful you are if I have to.”

[roselynnthornwood]

Artist IG: drea.d.art

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Support me on Patreon!

[notupforpolo]

This has probably been asked before, but who was actually Thomas' favourite poet? We all know he despised Byron, but who would he wax poetic (heh) about for hours? Questioning minds would like to know.

Personally, I think he'd really like Sappho because of her very timeless depictions of love and also probably Keats, because, yk, Thomas was active smack-dab during the romantic era.

[invinciblerodent]

Warden Tristan of the Grey; "Rook"

"So what are you? Spirit, or human?"

"I don’t know. Both, and neither. Maybe I’m a separate entity, a perfect synergy. Or just… a person. You know better than I."

(Template)

Arie Aeducan (The Warden-Commander)

Raymond Percival Trevelyan (The Inquisitor)

Under the cut, I wrote out the inciting incident of my idea for one of the Rooks I'm planning- an undead human man who had originally fought at Ostagar, and then became a Grey Warden. ❤️ (1.2k words, no spoilers beyond the prologue of Origins.)

[The painting used is Pedro Américo's "Visão de Hamlet", and the sculpture is "The Kiss of Death" ("El petó de la mort"), attributed to either Jaume Barba or Joan Fontbernat.]

This was the end.

He didn’t want to admit it, but deep down, he knew.

His body was dying.

It was only a question of minutes now, before the last sparks of consciousness, the last moments of lucidity would fade slowly from his sluggish mind… before his ruined, crushed, broken body would finally give out, and slip into blessed oblivion, return to the Maker’s side.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

This couldn’t be the end. There was still so much he hadn’t done, so many battles he had yet to fight, so many kisses he had yet to share... he hadn’t even had his first taste of beer yet, hadn’t danced at his wedding, so many sights yet to see, so many things to learn, books to read, cities to visit, and here he yet lay…

Dying.

And the worst part was that it wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried.

Maker knows he did.

He just had not been good enough.

Sure, he had sent several of those wretched monsters into the Void ahead of himself, and he was reasonably proud of that, it still was not enough-- not nearly enough.

The last thing he remembered was the blow that felled him. An unexpected hurlock’s club that rattled his teeth and sprung hot, searing agony from the point where it caved in his cheaply made helm… he remembered the sound, the horrific crunch of bone grinding on bone, as his skull cracked in two.

The second blow, the one that hit his side and dented the metal of his cobbled-together chestplate, had ruptured something deep within, and he didn’t even feel it anymore as he crumpled to the ground in a clatter of metal and flesh.

He hadn’t had the time to scream before the enormous foot of the ogre would have smashed into his crumpled, suddenly tiny body, tossing it several feet into the air like a rag doll, and then down onto the ground, into the rough vicinity of several of his already dead comrades.

Any minute now.

Any minute now, his panicked, stubborn, ever-fluttering sparrow of a heart would betray him, and stop pumping.

For fuck’s sake, he had to get up.

With only seventeen years and this one cursed battle under his belt, this wasn’t how he had planned to go. This fate, this, was not his- he was to be a great man, an honorable man, not another nameless soldier, another skull plucked clean by the crows and bleached by the Sun, not another heart stuttering to a stop on the eve of this massacre.

He had to stand.

But Maker, was he tired.

His legs, they would not move. They wouldn’t budge an inch, no matter how he commanded, demanded, pleaded and bargained with his very body- but damn it, he would not give up. Not now. Not ever. Not while his body still held a twinkle of life in it.

He always was a stubborn creature.

His mother had always said so-- stubborn as a mule and twice as hearty, she used to say as she ruffled his duff-dark hair. He heard her voice ring in his head now. She would never have let him leave, had he not underplayed the importance of this battle severely as he had. A mistake in retrospect- but one he would have made over and over again, if given a chance.

With the carrion-birds circling above, and the chunk of the sky within his vision slowly brightening, the boy tried to muster the energy to raise his hand to shield his eyes from the sting of the morning’s glow, but it stayed rigid beneath the handle of his bent sword- useless and corpse-stiff.

So his eyes faced forward, firm, unblinking, as the sharp light slowly gathered, coalesced like spilled mercury into a vaguely humanoid shape before him.

‘This must be Andraste,’ the boy thought, his voice distant even in his own mind as he looked upon the brilliant apparition, the radiant being the body of which seemed not to be constrained by borders.

It spoke with a hollow voice.

“Be at ease, for I seek not to hurt you,” it said, its voice neither detectable as feminine or masculine, but one of nameless comfort that rang so intimately close, it was as if it had come from within his very skull. It would have been beautiful, had it not sounded so mournful, so ethereal.

The boy blinked once, then twice more. “Who are you?” he tried to ask, but felt no breath inflate his lungs or rush past his lips.

“I am known by many names, child,” the apparition replied, “Persistence… Resilience… the inexorable clutch of Will. I am the wind in the sails of a conquering fleet, and the earth beneath the soles of pilgrims-- I am the instinct that thrums in the blood of monsters and men that draws them to clash, and the mother’s arms as they cradle a child to shield her from harm. I am Principle, Perseverance, Pride.”

“Are you… a demon?”

The figure chuckled, eerie and cold-- maybe even offended. “Demon, Spirit, Soul and Presence, these are the words of mortals- and as such, they are superficial, crude. They reflect not my perfect nature.” It paused. “But if it pleases you, you may address me as Purpose.”

“Why are you speaking to me?” The boy couldn’t feel himself asking the question, but he nevertheless heard his own voice, clear and strong now- and he wanted to wince. Compared to the apparition’s gentle murmur in the recesses of his mind, simply thinking felt as if he had been shouting.

“Why would I not?” Purpose replied, “Where the blood of men is shed, the Veil is fine as silk- all it needs to slip through is but a gentle press, and your will, your persistence… they call to me like an aroma irresistible. How could I not wish to speak to the one whose strength of heart, whose fortitude, is so sweet?”

“Does that mean you want to… feed on me, somehow?”

“No, dear one. I merely wish to observe.” It paused once more. “You are a creature most intriguing. Your final moments should have come hours prior- yet stubbornly, willfully, your heart keeps fluttering just so, your body continues drawing shallow breath… You are hovering on the border between your world and mine, and each time Despair would reach for you, you dance away, as if to tease.”

“I’m not trying to tease anyone!” he cried, panicked, “I just don’t want to die!”

“Your Will is stronger than the body that houses it.” The spirit drifted closer- the bright hollow where the boy assumed its face was supposed to be was so close now, he felt as if he could touch it and trace the curve of a cheek, if only he could lift his arm, or just curl his fingers. “I can make that body strong once more, if you’ll allow me.”

“How? What must I do? Spirit, Purpose, I don’t… I can’t die, I don’t want to die, I’ll do anything, just tell me what!”

But the apparition didn’t respond-- not with more than a soft chuckle, and a gentle warmth that washed over the boy, from the very tips of his toes to the top of his head, as if he was being submerged slowly into a warm bath.

And somewhere, beneath the rubble and dirt and grime, arm in arm with the cooling body of the fallen comrade in an embrace morbidly romantic, a dead boy sucked in a long, thirsty breath.

[somethingblu3]

okay i've done it i think i've read literally every tristan thorn fic in existence.

[hepbaestus]

Why must I fall for characters that have almost no fics about them?

[munsonownsmyass]

Selkie! Tristan Thorn x reader

Summary: Having to move back home to help your grandfather as his health declines, your life changes forever when you meet a mysterious stranger.

Notes: This is my contribute for The Moon in May challenge and the word i chose for the first week was "shift".

Also thanks to @albatrossandivys for the idea and shoutout to @firefly-graphics for the beautiful dividers.

I had to make this an AU (and a modern one) for obvious reasons. Hope that's okay 🤣

Warnings: None? Talk of floods, ocean and seals, so maybe triggering for people with thalassophobia? Also some fluff.

Words: 2.3 K

You needed the break. Life had been so damn hard lately after the breakup that you just needed to escape. Disappear for a while. Everything back home reminded you of him, of the life that you no longer shared, so when your mother mentioned your grandparents needing help, you volunteered instantly.

The move had been easier than you thought, switching out your hectic life in Edinburgh for a quiet village on the shore. Your grandparents had lived there their whole lives, your grandfather managing the little lighthouse. Now that he had gotten sick, you had taken over much to his dismay.

But you did a good job and when you weren’t helping out at home, managing the lighthouse or reading, you often found yourself looking out over the sea. Captivated by the waves, the soothing sound finally giving your soul some much needed peace.

At the end of the day, just when the sun would start to set, you would walk along the shore. Listening to the waves gliding over the sand, feeling the breeze in your hair. You’d always loved the sea, been drawn to it for a long as you could remember.

Growing up, you had spent every summer here. Spent the days bathing in the sea, fishing by the pier. Some days you could even see the small colony of seals that lived here sunbathing on the rocks. They are still there today, curious heads breaking the surface, curious eyes following you.

Sitting down for a while, you watch them in the distance. The older seals snoozing as the young ones play, splashing in the surface. And then… there’s one of them, just standing stagnant in the water. Eyes and snout just above the surface, eyes fixed on you.

You recognize him immediately. He’s been around for as long as you have, a mere seal cub when you were a kid. He had special markings, they all did, so you could easily tell them apart. This one you call Bangs, because of the longer tuft of fur on his head. Very unusual for a seal, you’ve been told.

Actually never been up close with them, curiosity takes over and you slowly walk closer to the rocks near the pier, climbing them carefully. Bangs are still watching you, inching closer in the water as you struggle on the wet rocks. You lose your footing, falling down towards the cold water when suddenly everything goes black.

Waking up, you feel a throbbing pain in your forehead and… a hand on your cheek. Looking up, you see a man hovering over you, his hazel eyes looking at you in concern. You should be scared, screaming and wondering how you were completely alone on the beach a few minutes ago and now find yourself in the arms of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his soft voice enveloping you like a warm embrace. He helps you sit up, eyes never leaving yours.

“I-I guess…” You groan, your body aching. You probably hit more than just your head in the fall. And then it dawns on you. You could have drowned. If this stranger hadn’t come by, you could’ve…  You look into his eyes, hazel eyes so deep you could drown in them, and shiver.

“Thank you for saving me.” You say, voice almost breaking. His hand is still caressing your cheek, the motion so soothing. He just gives you a nod in return, his fingers slowly making their way down the column of you neck, stopping to inspect the silver chain that adorns your neck. You shiver under his gaze and his touch is so timid, so curious, that you don’t even question why this stranger has no apparent knowledge of personal space.

“Of course, Mo Ghráidh.” He counters softly, eyes again finding yours. It’s odd. Somehow, you feel like you know him, feeling weirdly at peace in his embrace. His… naked embrace.

You flinch back an inch, realizing he’s sitting naked before you. “You’re naked!”

“Well, yes. I suppose I am.” He looks down, smiling when his eyes return to yours. There’s a sweet innocence over him that you can’t help but love. Which is crazy! You don’t even know this man, besides him being your savior. A beautiful, sweet and naked stranger, but a stranger, nonetheless.

“Where did you even come from?” You smile, still not sure whether all of this is a dream and in a few minutes from now you’ll wave up gasping for your life in the water.

“Oh, I come from Wall.” He smiles gently, fingers playing with a strain of your hair.

“Wall?” You huff out, almost snorting. “That’s not possible.” Everyone had heard tales of Wall. A city in England, just on the other side of the border, which had been swallowed by the unforgiving waves of the ocean hundreds of years ago. Some say there’s still ruins down there today, though now its only sea creatures residing in them.

“Christ lassie! Are you okay?” You see your grandfather walk as fast as he can down the stairs to the beach. Behind you, the water slashes as something breaks the surface and when you turn, the mysterious stranger is gone.

“I saw you fall down the rock and hit your head.” He falls to his knees with a groan, inspecting the cut on the side of your head. “We need to get this checked.”

“Where did he go?” You ask, looking between your grandfather and the ocean. All that was left of your stranger, was his footprints in the sand, disappearing into the ocean.

“Who?”

“The man.” You touch a footprint before the waves wash up and remove the last trace of your encounter. “The man who saved me.”

“I didn’t see anyone, hen. Come on.”

With some difficulty you both get on your feet, making your way back to the house. As you reach the pier, you look back towards the sea and see Bangs looking at you, his little face barely above water. His kind eyes keeping an eye on you, never leaving his spot before you reach the house.

The next week you find yourself looking out over the ocean more than before, wondering if you could catch the stranger walking around on the beach. You had even borrowed some books at the local library about Wall, feeling silly as you skimmed through the pages as if they could give you an answer. When a few weeks had passed, you had given up hope of seeing him again, boiling it all down to the head trauma.

Distracted by some seal cups playing in the ocean, you barely notice the footsteps beside you, until someone sits down beside you. With a smile, you greet the stranger, relieved that he was in fact real and not just a figment of your imagination.

“Hello again.” He smiles softly, mimicking you by swinging his legs out over the pier, letting them dangle like yours. You instantly see that he is less naked this time, a pair of worn trousers hanging low on his hips.

“You’re not naked this time.” You say, seeing how his cheeks flush red.

“No. You… You didn’t seem to like it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t like it. You’re very han-” You stop, closing your book before looking at him again. “It didn’t bother me, but thanks.”

He looks down at your book, his fingers running along the spine, tracing the delicate letters. “What is it?”

“My book?” You question, smiling wide when you see his curious nod. You show him the front page, watching as his eyes go wide in wonder. “It’s Treasure Island.”

“It’s about the sea?” He looks at the cover, captured by the little pirate ship on the blue waters.

“No. Well, sort of.” You giggle softly, giving him the book to hold. “It’s about a young man named Jim Hawkins who finds a treasure map, so he goes on a journey to find it. On his journey he meets this pirate called Long John Silver.”

“Could… could you tell me the story?” He asks, his wide puppy like eyes staring into yours, making it impossible to say no. So that’s what you do. Over the next few days, you meet the stranger, who you’ve come to know as Tristan and read to him. Every day around sunset you sit on the pier, Tristan listening as you tell the tale. In between, he asks questions, and you ask yours in return.

There’s much you don’t know about him, but as the days go by you get closer to Tristan, feeling yourself drawn to him. Thinking about him when he’s not there. Such a kind and warm soul, his smile always brightening your days and the small fleeting touches sending shivers through you. You know you shouldn’t, but you feel yourself falling for him.

“You spend so much time looking out over the water, I’m fearing you’ll get lost in it.”

You tear your eyes away from the waves to find your grandfather standing next to you, leaning on the railing. For some time, you just stand there silently, listening to the waves.

“I just-” You start, but don’t even know what to tell him. That you meet Tristan every day and you believe he lives in the ocean? He’d have you admitted to a psych ward in no time. “Could you tell me about Wall again?”

“Hen, I’ve already-” He looks to you, seeing the quiet plea in your eyes. He just sighs, pointing out over the water. “Hundreds of years ago, there was no ocean here. Instead, just on the other side of the border, was the small town of Wall.”

“According to the stories, it was a wonderful place. But sadly, one day, the entire town was swallowed by the sea.” He pauses, nudging your shoulder before pointing over at the small colony of seals on the rocks. “Legend has it there was magic surrounding the place, turning all the inhabitants of Wall into Selkies.”

“Selkies?” You frown, looking at the seals. “So… seals?”

“No, no, Hen. A selkie is a creature that can shed its seal skin and become human.” He states, laughing when he sees the disbelief on your face. “Aye, it may be old folk tales, but stories of the selkies have been around for hundreds of years. They are rumored to be so beautiful in their human form, that we can’t resist them.”

He talks a little more, but you don’t hear a word. It couldn’t be real, could it? This had to be tales for children, dreamers. Your grandfather had always been a little superstitious, so you weren’t even that surprised that he’d believe something like this.

When he leaves you alone once more, you sit down on the pier, looking at the seals. Just below your feet, you see Bangs break the surface, his big eyes finding yours. With your grandfather’s tale still fresh in your memory, you just smile at Bangs.

“So tell me, Bangs… Are you really a selkie?” You giggle, feeling silly. But when you see him nod, you freeze. Wait, did he nod? No, you’re just imagining things. “Did you just nod?”

Raising his head just a little more above water, he nods again and… smiles at you? Okay, it’s official. You’ve lost your mind. You’re talking to a seal.

“Right… Okay…” You say as you get up and walk away, muttering under your breath how you must be tired and this is all just results of banging your head all those weeks ago. But at a large thud, you stop, feeling the wood vibrate under your feet.

You turn around to find Bangs on the pier, never truly realized just how big seals are. Or is it just him? Taking a few steps closer, you timidly close the distance to him. in the next second, he rises to his feet and if it weren’t for the railing, you would have fallen into the sea again.

Gently, like shedding a coat, the beautiful grey fur falls away, making way for human skin. There in front of, naked as the first time you met him, is Tristan with a pile of seal fur at his feet. If you hadn’t just witnessed it yourself, you’d have thought you had gone mad. Well, maybe you had.

“Y-you’re a-a selkie?” you stutter, frozen in place. Tristan just smiles, stepping closer to you, leaving the seal skin behind him.

“Yes. Please don’t run away.” He steps closer, gently taking your hand in his. His beautiful hazel eyes find yours as he closes the distance further, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that makes you shiver.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for years, but I was afraid you’d never speak to me again.”

You reach out to touch him with trembling fingers, your hand lands on his chest. Somehow, you still need to feel him to know he’s real.

“I’ve watched over you for years, missing you when you weren’t here.” His free hand reach for a loose strain of your hair, tugging it gently behind your ear. “Waiting for the day I was brave enough to tell you.”

And it’s true. For a long as you can remember, he has been there. Always watching on the rocks, swimming playfully by your side whenever you’ve ventured into the ocean. Like a guardian angel, making sure you were safe.

“Would… Would it be okay if I kissed you?” He asks nervously, almost as if he expects you to say no. And you should, because of what he is. There are a million questions in your mind about how you could make this work, but every thought is drowned out as he looks into your eyes.

The whispered ‘yes’ barely leaves your lips before he kisses you, the touch of his lips as sweet as him. But the sweetness soon gives way to a hunger like you’ve never known before. Tristan has ignited something in you, a fire only he can soothe. And just like that your fate is sealed.

Tagging: @itwasthereaminuteago @e-dubbc11 @mattmurdocksscars @lavenderursa @yarrystyleeza

[munsonownsmyass]

Oh Stef... When we talked about this in the server, I knew it was gonna be soo good. The gentleness, their eagerness and just the lovw between them is just 😘👌🏻

Oh, what I wouldn't give to have had Tristan as my first 🥰😭❤️

|| 24. Tender Sex ||

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Tristan Thorne x female reader

Warnings: first time, lovely fluffy love making ☺️

Author's note: excuse me I'm just dying imaging that your first time was with Tristan 🫠

Your face was sore from smiling and you giggled making it ache even more as your new husband carried you gallantly over the threshold of your home. Your arms encircled his neck as he held you close and you couldn't resist showering him with light kisses as he gently put you down once you were inside.

"Mrs Thorne," he beams, chastely kissing your lips, "welcome home."

"Thank you, Mr Thorne," you return, "married! I can scarcely believe it!" Your voice was pitched with excitement and relief, as after a long and busy day of celebration the two of you were finally alone.

He takes you by the hand and leads you to your bedchamber where a rather expensive looking bottle of wine and two goblets are waiting for you.

"We should toast! What should we toast to?" You ask, as he uncorks the wine and pours.

He hands you a glass, sitting down next to you on the bed and you laugh as you entangle your arms bringing the wine to your lips.

Tristan gazes into your eyes, "love," he says softly.

"To love," you agree, returning his smile with all your heart, reflecting back the immeasurable warmth you feel when he's near.

When the glasses are empty you suddenly feel a weight of expectation. You've never felt nervous with him before but then you'd never just been married before either. You smooth down your dress over your knees, fidgeting.

He's not stupid, and he knows something's wrong. Taking your hands he brings them up to his lips, kissing them reverently.

"My love, we don't have to…" he turns slightly, looking towards the bed. "you know we don't need to, tonight, if you-"

You squeeze his hands and stroke your fingers through his hair, sliding down to cup his jaw. "I know, but I'd like to… it's just, I've never-"

He laughs a little. "I've never, either. But, I think we'll be okay… we can um, help each other?"

You nod and lean closer, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. His hands come up to cradle your face and press the softest kiss to your lips. It's so light but the lingering nature of it promises so much more, and you allow yourself to crave it. Now that he's yours and you're his.

He pulls back just a little, your breath mingling as he strokes his thumb over your heated cheek.

"Um, the other night, I thought you were having a nightmare and were calling for me, so I… came to your room, but-"

You drop your gaze, flustered and embarrassed, knowing what he must have heard. "Tristan, I- I can explain-"

He tips your head up with his fingers under your chin to meet his eyes. "I’d like to hear you make those sounds for me, would you show me… show me what to do, how to… touch you like that?"

His earnestness lets your mind and emotions settle, and you nod, pulling him in close for a kiss that ensures he knows you want nothing more. The butterflies are still there as your hands trail down from his shoulders and over his chest as your kisses gradually grow more impassioned. It's not as if you hadn't gotten a tiny bit frisky before, but this was new, uncharted territory for both of you.

Without even realising it your fingers are unlacing his shirt, slipping underneath to feel his skin. He shrugs it off letting your curious hands skim down his chest and stomach to rest at the buttons of his breeches, never leaving your lips for any longer than necessary. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth as your fingers wander lower, a soft gasp fanning his face as you feel how just how much he strains for you.

"Oh..” you sigh together, foreheads touching as you both grin, laughing softly. His hands skim up the sides of your bodice as you pull back and reach behind your shoulders to unfasten the clasps.

“Would you let me?” He asks, and you smile, turning to give him access. He unhooks each clasp slowly, deliberately, working his way down your spine and you hum contentedly as he presses a light kiss to your skin as more of it is revealed. His hands are warm and you can feel the slightest of trembling as he moves the fabric of your dress away from your body. When you stand, still facing away, and push the wedding gown from your hips to the floor you are the most naked he has ever seen you.

He swiftly removes the rest of his clothes to prevent you from feeling self-conscious. You glance over your shoulder and smile, your arms wrapped around you as you’re not sure what to do next. When he rises and comes to you, you turn in his embrace and there’s a moment where the two of you are just looking at each other like it’s the first time, bare skin glowing in the lamplight.

“You are so beautiful.” Tristan tells you, brushing the backs of his fingers down your arm, his soothing brown eyes taking you in.

You feel the heat rise in your face at his words. “And you are so very handsome,” you say, taking his hand and leading him to the bed. You’re both sitting at first, he strokes your hair away from your face, leaning in to kiss you again. Moving ever closer you end up tangled in each other, skin to skin, his tongue finding yours. Desire sparks into life when you feel his length press against your belly, he wants this, he wants you. His thigh rubs between yours and you moan. He looks up and you can’t disguise your need.

“Show me.” He whispers, and you take his hand guiding it over your breast which he dips his head to and kisses, following down over your soft stomach leaving kisses there too, and down further to the juncture of your thighs. He gently lays you down on the bed and hovers over you, his cock twitching as his fingers feel the warmth and wetness there. He watches in amazement as you move his hand, allowing his fingertips to become slick with your arousal and slide with effortless ease over your clit.

“Oh Tristan… like that…” you shudder, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel everything he’s doing to you.

He’s a quick study, drawing slow, tight circles where it makes you writhe and moan so prettily. His eyes flickering between your beautiful expression of pleasure and where that pleasure originates from. As you let your legs spread wider you push his hand down a little further, encouraging him to slide a finger inside you.

“Are you sure you want me to-” He gasps along with you as he feels your tight velvet walls for the very first time, and moans out again as you reach for him, your soft fingers wrapping delicately around the base of his cock.

“Show me how you like it.” you ask him, your voice breathy and needing. He places his hand over yours, increasing your grip and slowly stroking up and down. His voice shakes as he guides you to twist your hand a little at the peak of the next stroke, and you watch, entranced, as a few drops of slippery liquid leak from his tip easing your movements even more.

“Mmn, y-yes, just like… ahh-”

After a little while you can no longer deny the ache for something more. “Tristan, please… I’m ready.” your voice is steady and sure as you move him over you. He looks so deep into your eyes as he braces his hand near your shoulder, his other gently nudging the head of his cock through your folds, covering it in your slick.

“Are you certain? Is this okay?” he asks, concerned.

"Please." You nod, your hands reaching around his back and pulling him closer to you, biting at your lip as he finds your entrance and slowly starts to push inside. You share a sigh, his mouth drops open at the feel of you all around him, he's shivering at the intensity of it. A sharp, loud, moan escapes your lips as he presses in further, and he stops, gently pulling out again.

“Are you alright? Oh love, have I hurt you?!” He’s frantically looking you up and down with worry painting his features.

You breathe out, shaking your head and urging him to continue. “No I’m fine, it’s okay, I’m okay.” you assure him, giving him a smile to make him feel at ease. He’s not completely convinced, sitting back and stroking down your thighs.

“I think, maybe if you can relax, it might help?” He suggests, and your smile is genuine as he leans forward, his lips kissing their way down from your neck. You giggle at first as the touch is ticklish, but then he caresses your breasts with his hands, kissing, licking and sucking at your nipples until they are hard, and you can’t help your moans. He seems to revere you like a goddess, every touch is like starfire and it burns the fiercest of all when he dips down between your legs and kisses you there.

He holds you down, on a quest to make you feel nothing but good, his tongue eagerly licking through your folds and up to your clit and you cry out in disbelief at the rapturous feeling it elicits. Your fervent cries and moans spur him to continue, hungrily lapping your sweet taste into his mouth and moaning against you as you start rocking your hips against him. That sensation you’ve only ever felt at the touch of your own hand bursts its way ferociously through your entire being and you cry out his name over and over until you have to tell him to stop. He’s panting like you are and you can’t help laughing and shuddering as a satisfying glow settles over you.

“Did that… help?” He asks, grinning cheekily. He yelps as you haul him on top of you again in answer, taking his cock in your grasp and guiding him confidently to where you need him. It feels so good now, the stretch is only a slight burn as he fills you with such sweetness that you think you might weep. Tristan gasps with you as he sinks deeper this time, you're so warm, tight, and so very wet from his previous ministrations, how can anything possibly feel this incredible? He moves his hips, slowly at first, and the drag of his length inside you is almost too good to bear. Your hands go to the sides of his face, “Tristan…” you whisper, tilting your head up to kiss him as your bodies move as one, each gentle rock of your hips building the wave of bliss higher and higher.

“You feel so good my love, please tell me it feels this good for you.”

"I could have never have imagined…" Your fingers thread through his hair and grasp at his shoulder, sliding down over his back to feel how he moves against you. Soon enough you feel the telltale coiling sensation deep within, a surge of pure ecstacy waiting to be set free.

You wrap your legs around his waist altering the angle of his smooth thrusts, making his cock press into a part of you that you didn't even know existed. He feels you shake and whimper softly beneath him and it drives him to keep going, to release the familiar tight, throbbing coil locked at the base of his spine and take you with him.

You're dancing on the edge of a feeling you can't describe, something you never want to end. "Tristan, oh please, I-"

He gives himself over to the feel of you squeezing around him, the incredible rhythmic pulsing within you that sets off a chain reaction.

He grasps for your hand, your fingers interlocking as he kisses you breathless as you come apart.

"My star-"

Your back arches, it feels something like heaven and you cry out, holding him so close to you as he joins you in this beautiful loss of control, releasing inside you with a such a pretty moan.

You lie wrapped in each other for a time, moulded together irrevocably, content and sharing the warm blanket of post orgasmic bliss with lazy brushes of lips, featherlight touches and I love yous.

[yarrystyleeza]

The North Star (T.T)

Tristan Thorn x female! Reader

No warnings, absolute fluff, maybe a little bit of angst? But happy ending. <3

Summary: you and your childhood best friend Tristan had to split ways in cause of your discordant lives, but you somehow try to find time for you to be together again, doing the thing you've always loved since you were children, stargazing.

Word count: almost 3k!

Writer's note: I wrote this in less than 24 hours so forgive me if anything dropped off the plot or doesn't make sense. But I wrote it with all my love, I hope you enjoy it. <3

Goddamn it, you've always hated waking up early, mornings are always exhausting, specially after spending the night stargazing from your window, looking at the beautifully dotted sky, the wide dark canvas that was decorated with the scattered sparkly little white jewels. They've always caught your attention, they made you lose conversations sometimes because you paid more attention to them than the person talking to you, and sometimes you'd walk into some tree or a wall for keeping eye contact with them. You'd miss them throughout the morning when the sun is covering their beautiful gaze against your curious irises, something about them was so magical, enchanting, keeping you thirsty for more, and you loved how they kept you wanting them at your sight.

That's why you hated mornings, besides the daily chores you'd do around the house, they make your hatred towards mornings becomes more of a rivals'... Well, except the mornings where your mother decides to send you to the market to grab some house needs, this would always make you jump out of your bed with excitement.

It's pretty much the same this morning, the sunbeams are blinding you through the window glass, playfully caressing your lids, you shift in your bed, trying to hide your face from the morning sight on you. Your mother chirps from behind the door, "dear, I need some groceries for this evening's treat, you need to be up!" you scramble out of your sheets and run to wash your face, heart fluttering like the wings of a young butterfly. Soon you're in your pretty floral day dress and fixing your locks in front of your mirror, you add the little star-shaped ornament to your gathered bangs, you put your leather shoes on and spring out of the room, taking your umbrella off the hanger on your way out of the house.

The summer breeze fills your lungs as soon as you open the wooden front door, you realize how pretty the weather is today, well, mornings aren't always that bad after all, you knew that fact deep down in you. You make your way down the hill to town of Wall, where you had lived your entire life till now, a small town with few people, cozy on winters, freshening on summers, you never thought of leaving it, you loved living here anyway, you knew you'd never find a place more peaceful than this.

Or, maybe it's because there was someone here that's always on your mind, the young man who works at the very shop you always shop from. That's why you've always loved the shopping mornings, you get a chance to meet your crush, and talk to him a bit about your shared habit, stargazing.

Your journey to the center of the town doesn't take much of power nor time, but you make it to the shop with raspy breaths, you support your body on the brick wall of the shop to take your breath, and the moment you felt your heart beating calmer, you turn immediately to get inside. Maybe the journey itself wasn't tiring, but the excitement that overwhelmed you was the reason for this unstable heartbeat for sure.

You stand in a not quite long queue waiting for your turn, when your eyes meet his, he smiles at widest and waves at you. It's been a week since you last saw him, he told you about the north star he's been gazing at for a while, and you told him you were gazing at it on the exact same night, too.

The line moves a little, and in less than an hour, you're finally facing him, "what a good morning, y/n! How are you today?" he cheers the moment you step in front of him, he can't help the loud blush on his stretched cheeks, "I'm good, you?" you try to look more chill and calm, "well I'm doing great that I got to see you today, is there anything I could bring you?" but instead, your face turns absolutely red at his answer, his smile is brighter than the summer sun, his eyes are sparkling with unexplainable joy. "I-- I have this list..." you search through your pockets, you find the paper and hand it over to him, he knits his eyebrows, his honey brown eyes are popping out, "well, that's a long list, sure you have someone with you to carry all this stuff?" your pouted lips answer his question, shake your head, "but I... I think I can make it on my own--" you argue, "wait a second," he cuts you off and runs to the back of the store

He's back in a minute, and he's gathering all the goods you ordered from around the shop in an act that's cannot be described in less than a haste. You're surprised by how fast he looked around the place, picking bottles and herb jars off the shelves, flour and potato sacks, chocolate, cheese, and eggs are quickly packed, he seems excited, to your surprise, but you keep watching him, with amusement.

He brings the groceries on the counter, "did I forget anything?" he's panting, looking back at the list in his hand, you shake your head with a wide smile, "no, no, not at all, you did amazing, Tristan!" you couldn't stop the redness from growing on your cheeks, and the wide grin that always forms on your sight in his presence, he exhales a shaky laugh. He passes out of the counter and picks the sackcloth bags and bolsters them to his chest, "Tristan, what are you doing?" you're surprised again, "I'm walking you home, you thought I was gonna let you take them there yourself?" he passes you, and you had no other choice but to grab the last bag and the end of your dress and try to keep up with his pace.

You and Tristan have been best friends since you were children, but as both of you grew up, your lives kind of got separated, his shifts at the store and your house chores and studies weren't leaving space for you to be together, and all the time that was available for both of you was the time you meet him at the store. Result of this, you don't get to stargaze together anymore.

"I've been reading this book about the North Star, they call her Polaris sometimes," he starts as he slows his pace a little to align with you, he parts his lips as if he's about to speak, but smiles, "she's always there at night, and she's always shimmery and you can find her from anywhere in the world," he catches a glimpse of you before continuing, "but I think that North stars shouldn't always be in the sky among other stars," he has his eyes aimed forward, "sometimes it can refer to a person, someone who is an actual guide, or someone who is believing in you," you couldn't help but think of him.

Tristan has always been supportive to you, never turned you down, always encouraging you to do the things you love. You wanted to be an astronomer, and you are halfway to achieving your dream because of him, aside from you studying hard for this dream, he usually brings you books about astronomy on the days you meet him at the shop, he'd take rests just to read with you, even though he gets his little salary deducted, and you'd tell him that he needs this money, but still he'd stay there with you just to enjoy the couple minutes of you reading together.

Eventually you make it home, you both walk up the hill and you knock on your door, your mother greets you and takes the groceries and pays him after thanking him for his genuineness. "y/n?" you were entering your house and about to close the door, you stop and turn to look at him, "yes, Tristan?" you can feel your heart jumping against your ribs as you think about how soft his voice was when he called your name, "we haven't went stargazing together in like-- months, maybe years, can we-- do it tonight? I-- I need to show you something I discovered... It's a-- um... " his voice is shaky a little, he's nervous, and the little hairs of his bangs are sticking to his forehead of all the summer sweat, "yeah, yeah! Tonight, of course," you too are excited, you chuckle, "picnic, tonight?" you ask, "yeah! Sounds-- sounds great, yeah, picnic, yes! See you then!" he nods with a couple giggles and turns away. He looks back at you for a last time before he walks back down the hill.

You continue on with your day, preparing for the treat your family hosted, and it was a busy, stressful time, but thinking about ending your day with Tristan, doing the very thing you two love the most since you were kids — together again, it gave you a sudden relief that you will get your own treat after all.

But still, you couldn't help but think about how nervous Tristan was this morning, he was garbled, tripping over his own words. You know he cares about you, but you're his friend, you know this, even if you feel so much about him, even if you actually love all of him and wish to the stars every night that he finally becomes yours and forget about that Victoria who never cared for him as much as you do, that you're willing to give him your heart the moment he asks you for it, but in the end, you knew that he's your friend, and might never be more than this.

This saddens you, but either way, you would be happy for him being happy, because you love him, and the circle spins around in your head.

The night falls faster than you think, and you are done cleaning the dining table after the guests have left. You beg your parents to let you go with him like you two used to, and after minutes of unstoppable begs, they let you go with Tristan. You've already made his favorite strawberry and cream cheese pie, you put it in the basket along with the other sweet treats you spent your morning preparing for him, imagining his wide smile and rosy cheeks and his startled talk, appreciating how much effort you put into this.

Your mind wanders a little further, imagining how he would fondly caress your cheek, how he would tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, how he would brush your lip with his thumb and, how sweet must his cherry colored lips would be, as he would join them with yours.

You exhale your thoughts out of your lungs, knowing how too far they are from reality, you pick up your basket and head outside, and walk all the way down the hill towards the wall, since it was your favorite spot to stargaze from.

You find Tristan sitting on the plaid picnic blanket, and in front of him was a dinner he prepared for the two of you, your favorite baked stuffed potatoes, and a bottle of peach champagne, you smile and rush at him. The hug was... Different, so different from how it used to feel, you've always hugged him as a friend of yours, your best friend, but how you feel now is so different, it ignites something in you, unlocks a new path of feelings, the no longer kids, the path of the three words and 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you'.

You both sit down and spread the goods over the sheet, and as you expected to be, Tristan is over the moon, he's appreciating each cookie you crafted individually, and how you beautifully braided the dough on the top of the strawberry and cream cheese pie, and how amazing the brownies you baked are. You are overwhelmed with his sweetness, and you can't help but replay the thing you thought of before you came here.

You two start your dinner, and finish with some pie and biscuits. He pours you a glass of champagne as you lift your head up to talk to your befriended stars, asking them for a sign, a guidance, something that will tell you if you should continue or back away and maybe end all this pain in your chest for good.

"y/n, your glass," it's a little tilted between your fingers, almost spilling the drink out of it, "you're looking at her, right?" he nudges you softly with his shoulder, you sigh a little chuckle as you stare at him, "Polaris, she's beautiful, I've always thought I could live there one day, among them," you look up again, holding the glass in your right hand while supporting your body to the left one.

You feel a warm caress on the skin of your left hand, you look down to see Tristan walking the buds of his fingertips over the back of your hand in a motion so delicate, you look up at him to find his eyes fixed on yours, in a new way you never witnessed before, a way which sparks something in you.

"Tristan?" you try, but his innocent deer eyes were locked with yours. "y/n, I..." he pauses again, lips parted, he looks at your mouth, your hand, then back into your eyes. By this moment, you were fully aware that whatever you've been fighting back might be true. You put your glass down on the rug, tilt your body to fully face him, his breath is shaky, "Tristan, is there anything wrong?" is the only thing you could say.

"y/n, that night I told you that I was gazing at the north star, it wasn't any north star, it was my own north star, it was you, y/n. You are my North Star." he holds your hands close to his chest as he gazes your eyes with his vast brownies and doe-like lashes, "I couldn't find better words, I'm lost... I'm lost within you... You are my star, I don't think I need to stare at the skies to seek the sparkling that I only find in your eyes," Tristan has always been troubled with how to explain his feelings, but at this very moment, he is confidently staring into your curious eyes, and saying these beautifully knitted words, that created a loving sweater for sure it warms your soul.

Your mouth drops open, maybe surprised of how fast your prayers were answered, or maybe because this was even more charming than you thought things would be, but you were amazed, no doubt. The edges of your lips are slightly stretched, but you were too amazed to express a whole smile. "I'm sorry, y/n, I know I shouldn't 've said tha--" it was your time to take the move, you silence him wrapping your lips around his, in a casual fashion, your eyelids fall closed and, so does he.

This was better than you had pictured, the kiss was tender like his innocent heart, his lips were soft, sweeter than cherries, citrus stinging the tip of your tongue as you taste the peach champagne on his lovesome lips, the toasted nuttiness are swirling along with the sweetness of the strawberry and cream, feeling your heart swelling with a new feeling that you never thought of before, is this what they call love? You're sure it is now.

You part away from him, hiding your face behind your palms, "damn me, I'm so sorry, Tristan, I thought--" he cups your cheeks in his hands, silencing you by simply looking into your eyes. "y/n, my beautiful star, I love you... And I want you to be my North Star forever, my very own Polaris, will you be my North Star?" his shiny honey irises stared back at yours, despite the dim lights you were soaked in, you could see the reflection of yourself in his vast eyes, and if you look closer enough, you might see the stars you never thought of.

You softly nod, and a smile stretches across both of your faces, "yes, I will, I love you, Tristan," you finally say it, and that's when his lips meet yours, and you both mesh in the adoration that was kept within, slow, little, sweet, tinder kisses that might have been sent from heavens and straight onto your lips.

You part once again but this time, both of you are sure of what you're feeling. "I can't believe I just kissed the most beautiful girl," he hides his face as it reddened, you couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable he is, you caress his cheek, resting his chin in your forehand, "as if you're not the most beautiful boy in this world," he chuckles.

"can I ask you a question?" he asks, after lying you under the blanket of the sparkling sky and peppering your cheeks with all the lovely kisses he kept all those years — for long minutes you lost the count of, "sure?" you snuggle in his arms to the warmth of his chiffon shirt, "we're not 'friends' anymore, right?" you shift your head and look at him with knitted eyebrows, "just making sure." he chuckles.

Taglist: @mindidjarin @acharliecoxedfan @v4leoftears @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass

Comment "💖" if you like to be added in my taglist.

I hope you all enjoyed it, if you did, please like and reblog it would mean a lot to me <3

I hope you all have a great day! <3

[quecksilvereyes]

The Evening Star

Worry not about the chains, my love, worry not about your heart. Worry about the witch, my love, as her cackle falls apart. Worry not about your hands, my dear, worry not about the stains. Worry about the lips, my dear, on your skin and your remains. Worry not about a thing, my pet, worry not at all. Worry just about the star, my pet, and watch it fall. Nursery Rhyme, Stormhold, ca 1830

This is how the world collapses under Yvaine’s feet: the death of a king, a clear ruby against their aching bones and a boy with eyes the colour of soil on top of them.

All of Stormhold holds its breath as its king chokes on his laughter, watching his son fall to his death, his three living children gathered around him, murder etched into their clothes. The royal ruby hits Yvaine like the sharp pain of being born, hot and sudden and burning against their leg and by the time the pain dulls, they lie on the floor, no longer aglow. The boy atop of them calls them mother, his dark eyes on their dress.

“I’m not your mother”, Yvaine says and twists away. “Get off me.” The boy falters and gapes.

Mother, Yvaine thinks as the boy turns away, worrying his hands. They smooth out the fabric of their dress, silver and flowing underneath their dull fingers. Like a human woman.

The boy chains them, the pull of it uncomfortable against their wrist. “You will be a gift to Victoria, my one true love”, he says and Yvaine thinks of their siblings, and of the burning in their bones. They scowl at him. The boy tugs the chain.

*

Some 400 years before Yvaine tumbled to the ground, their hands pressed to their leg, one of their siblings fell. A red giant, their hair had the colour of fire once they touched Stormhold’s soil, the witches’ hands around their waist, on their skin, in their hair. Darling, the witches had called them, and chained the cackles from behind their lips. Sweetheart, you need a bath. They had taken Yvaine’s sibling and their hair, the glow in their heart and had nursed them, dressed them in gowns and skirts and blouses and things a witch can never touch. Darling girl, they said, and shackled them to the table, once they glowed again, their heart a pool of warmth against their lips.

*

Yvaine’s hair is a cascade of yellow against their cheeks as they try putting weight on their ankle and stumble. They cough. “Please”, they say, their breath sharp and ragged, “let me sleep.”

The boy with the soil coloured eyes (Tristan is his name, he’d offered it with a shrug and a smile) furrows his brows and chains them to the tree. Yvaine sighs and lifts their chin. The bark is rough against their back, the ruby heavy on their clavicles. Their body is a constant weight against their bones, their skin tight and dull and unglowing.

*

The woman, with her hands on Yvaine’s back, smells like the warm pulse of a star’s trust, and Yvaine smiles at her. Dear, the woman calls them and smiles, her daughter silent at her side, as she fills the bath. The water is steaming and as Yvaine sinks into it, their right foot hovering over the ground, they feel as if their siblings were braiding their hair again, their voices against Yvaine’s skin.

The warm smell on the woman’s skin is still in Yvaine’s nose as they cling to Tristan, green fire around them, and the woman angles her knife towards them, her voice that of a witch once more. Tristan holds them close to himself, his voice quiet and breaking into their hair.

“Yvaine, hold me close and think of home.”

*

Pretty girl, the pirates call Yvaine. Pretty thing. The captain offers Tristan trousers and Yvaine a dress. They smile and thank him and think of their siblings, glowing and laughing and pooling into their arms during the daytime. The captain tilts his head and hands Tristan a shirt, white and flowing against his skin.

Captain Shakespeare takes Yvaine with him as he tattles for his lightening bolts and the man he negotiates with scowls at Yvaine. “Nosy thing, isn’t she?”, he says and Yvaine feels like they did when they were new, boiling and bright. Shakespeare smiles at them and Yvaine takes a step back and doesn’t bow their head.

*

Waltzing with Tristan, one of his hands on their back, the other holding their hand, feels a little like floating again, like sprawling themselves on clouds. Tristan smiles and Yvaine can feel the glow in their heart. (“I know what you are”, Shakespeare says, and “I’m not going to hurt you.” Yvaine steps on his feet, their mouth slack and Shakespeare smiles at them.) Tristan’s hands are light where Shakespeare’s are warm and solid, and Yvaine feels warmer as Tristan lets them lead.

*

Tristan’s mouth is warm and smooth against their skin and Yvaine wraps their legs around his waist. “Yvaine”, he says, his hands in their hair, on their skin. “Yvaine.” They pull him closer and Tristan laughs. The warmth in Yvaine’s skin spills and boils over, Tristan’s hair against their chest, his mouth against their skin and they laugh, breathless. Tristan smiles, his eyes still the colour of soil, his lips no longer those of a quivering boy.

*

When Yvaine was born from star dust and pressure against their core, the earth was still molten and as glowing as their siblings. Their siblings had taken their hands and smiled at them, and Yvaine had watched the earth first cool, then turn green. And as life, as humanity came to be, they watched them, their heart caught in their throat, watched humans spin and turn and laugh and live and have adventures, of fire breathing dragons, cackling witches and bleeding feet. “I wish I could have an adventure”, they’d said, their hands around their siblings and their sibling had laughed.

*

The chain digs into Yvaine’s skin as the dark haired woman holds them close, her voice the soft tilt of a nursery rhyme as Yvaine buries their face in her chest. (If you touch human soil, you’ll turn to rock, she had said and Yvaine thinks of taking this step, of Tristan’s eyes and his true love.) Their tears stain the woman’s dress and the skin on their cheeks and the lilt of her voice doesn’t change.

Worry not about the chains, my love, worry not about your heart.

*

Tristan touches the ruby and turns it as red as the heat in Yvaine’s bones. The witches, their mouths warped into teethful of smiles, lie still and unmoving at their feet and the animals claw against their bars. “The last male heir to the Stormhold bloodline”, the dark haired woman says, and Yvaine looks at the boy with the soil coloured eyes and thinks of the king and his rattling laugh. Tristan’s mouth is a soft line, his hands the dull hue of human skin and he laughs, breathless, his head thrown back.

His mother smiles at him, and at Yvaine too, her eyes crinkling. Yvaine thinks of the sky, of their siblings and of their dress, burning to molten rock. They take Tristan’s hand and rub the soft skin there.

“Now look what the weird bloody necklace did”, Tristan says and Yvaine laughs.

*

(Tristan is crowned King of Stormhold, his hand in Yvaine’s and they smile at him, their dress warm around them as they are crowned Monarch, a Babylon candle at their feet.)

____________________

If you enjoy my writing, consider buying me a coffee <3

[grasslandgirl]

Summary:

Peter is a star, Sam is trying to bring him home to win the heart of his ladylove and, as in most adventures, nothing goes to plan, but most things turn out for the best ~~~ I know it’s a combination of the moonlight and the shadows cast by the fire, but I swear that it looks like Peter is glowing. His eyes are soft and distant, looking out at the night sky, shining down through the sparse forest canopy above them.

“Are you tempted?” Peter asks, his eyes never leaving the sky. His voice is so quiet that I almost don’t hear him. I can’t tell if that’s accidental or by design. I don’t know exactly what he means, so I hum noncommittally in lieu of an answer. “By immortality.”

in case you didn’t know, im really on my bullshit and i wrote a deadass ridiculous and self indulgent eldonado fic- a stardust au based on an iconic seven-word text post so if you’re about it please give it a read lmao 

[why-do-i-breath]

Alrighty I've decided to write fanfiction on here because I've burnt out on Wattpad and people aren't giving me requests so here's the people I will write for and I'll write anything ( if it's smut it may be a while because I would need to research stuff on it )

Matt Murdock

Foggy Nelson

Benjamin Dex Poindexter

Frank castle

Michael kinsella

Tristan thorn

Owen sleater

Karen page

Bucky Barnes

Henry (eat locals)

Peter Parker ( fluff / angst only)

And if you request a character I will try and research them my best to write them

Please request I'm begging here

[johaerys-writes]

Fic Writer’s Round Up: 2020

I was tagged by wonderful friendos @in-arlathan, @noire-pandora, @faerieavalon, @pinkfadespirit, @tevivinter, and @serial-chillr! Thank you so much, it was so interesting to see what you've been up to this year <3 

2020 was a ride from start to finish and I considered not doing this at first because frankly, I wasn't particularly happy with my output this year, but I decided to give it a go and I was pleasantly surprised! This year has had a lot of ups and downs for me and there were plenty of times when I had a hard time putting words on the page, while others I couldn't stop. I've written primarily for Dragon Age and The Song of Achilles, and a little bit of Castlevania. In the below breakdown I've included all the fics I’ve written solo, both my published stuff as well as those that I plan on publishing in the near future  (for my lengthier works, I’ve only included the chapters written in 2020):

Aran belongs to @oftachancer!

I don't know if you noticed the ~50k words of deleted stuff, but that was an entire arc that I wrote for A World With You, but decided it wasn't good enough so I scrapped and rewrote it. Those long gaps between updates this year? Yeah. That was it. I normally don't include deleted scenes in my overall wordcount but I decided to add this out of spite because it was a lot of hard work and it may or may not have had me sobbing into my coffee once or twice. Anyway. MOVING ON.

I also co-wrote A LOT with my friendo @oftachancer this year! It all started with a Modern AU one-shot of Aran and Tristan as college roommates, which then derailed into an epic adventure of about 250,000 words (placeholder title: Never Let Me Go) as well as a prequel of about 180,000 words of the boys before they went to college, which is currently being published on AO3 (Playground Love). We also published a smutty one-shot for Kinktober (Tea and Corsets). I love those boys so much, and I’m excited to write more of them. I have also co-written a few scenes for the Band!AU @oftachancer and @midnightprelude have been working on, which has been so much fun and I look forward to writing more! So, total wordcount for co-written stuff is approximately 445,000 words,  not including a couple one-shots that we’ve written and posted on Tumblr and I’m too lazy to track down now, or others that haven’t been published yet but will soon!

New Things I Tried This Year: 

Co-writing two massive, novel length fics was definitely a first, I had a lot of fun world-building with @oftachancer​, and it gave me the opportunity to develop some of my OCs that had been lurking in my mind for a really long time. I also started writing for a new fandom, TSOA, and that has definitely been a highlight in my year. I grew up reading the Iliad and ancient greek myths, and to see them brought to life was very rewarding. It has also been a lot of fun finding ways to integrate ancient greek lore in my works, I really love it!

Fic I spent the most time on: A World With You, although Playground Love and Never Let Me Go are close seconds!   

Fic I spent the least time on: To Build A Home. I wrote it in only a couple sittings after finishing Season 3 of Castlevania because I had so many feels! Chapters 1 and 2 of High-Flying Birds were also written on my phone in less than an hour, because again I was overwhelmed with feels after finishing The Song of Achilles.  

Favourite things I wrote: I am really proud of everything I’ve written this year, especially since it was such a stressful year and writing gave me a much needed escape! But I'm going to choose a few highlights, purely based on the satisfaction they gave me while writing, and how often I've gone back to reread them (does anyone else do that?? Lol): Viper in Tall Grass, because I enjoyed the heck out of writing in the Witcher Universe. Chapter 2: Thorn, from High Flying Birds, which was one of those scenes that practically wrote themselves and I still like the way it turned out. Lastly, Chapter 28: The Prodigal Son and Chapter 29: In Water Waist Deep from AWWY. They were both really challenging to write but in the end they were worth it and I personally feel it’s some of my best writing yet. I always get emotional when I go back to reread them.  

Favourite Things I Read: I’ve read a lot of published fiction this year, but not near as much fanfiction as I would have liked! I mentioned some of the fics I’m currently reading and loving in this post, but I’m going to make a more detailed fic rec post soon, so keep an eye out for that! 

Writing Goals for next year: My primary goals for 2021 are to finish AWWY and High-Flying Birds so I can start working on some projects I’ve been wanting to post forever, but apart from that, I have no goals other than to have fun writing, and perhaps participate in more fic exchanges and challenges! 

This post is terribly long (I’m usually rather quiet unless someone asks me to talk about my fics, and then I can’t shut up lol), but I want to thank every single person that has liked, reblogged and commented on my work, you guys are the best and there’s nothing like a comment or a thoughtful tag to make me want to create more! 

I also want to give a special shoutout to @solas-disapproves, @in-arlathan, @midnightprelude, @tessa1972 and @oftachancer​ for being the lovely, inspiring people that they are, and for gifting me with wonderful fanart or fanfic this year that made me want to melt in a puddle, as well as to @tenmeooo-thefangirltrash​ for translating High Flying Birds to Vietnamese! (Check it out here) Thank you all so much, your friendship and support has meant the world to me ;w;

I’m sure that everyone has done this already, but I’m still going to tag @pikapeppa, @schoute​, @schattengerissen, @zuendwinkel​, @elveny​, @fandomn00blr​, @dafan7711​, @dalish-rogue​, @jeannedarcprice​, @nug-juggler​, @kittimau​ and @lavellanvibes​ for art or writing, because I always love seeing what you’ve been up to! If you’ve made it to the end of this humongous post, please consider yourself tagged, and tag me back so I can see your work too!

CHEERS, AND ON TO 2021!! <3

[kelekiahshadya]

Valentine Fandom Meme

I’m eternally late to the game since Valentine’s Day was a week and a half ago, but I saw this ask meme, and I couldn’t help myself. Since I never get asks, I’ve decided that I’m going to treat it like a meme on its own. Taken from courierhawk’s reblog; original questions from thevirdirthara. Also, apologies in advance. I use a mix of dub/sub names.

Yu-Gi-Oh

Your favorite non-canon ship?

Considering there’s only one, maybe two ACTUAL canon ships, just about any of my ships are valid, though there are slightly more canon ships if you look at the anime instead of the manga. That being said, Polar (MaiXJoey) is probably my favorite non-canon ship. I know, I know, age difference and it’s not present in the manga and blah blah blah, but I don’t care. I love Polar to death.

Is there a ship you didn’t like at first but ultimately started shipping?

Thorn (AnzuXYamiMarik) is a ship I never would’ve considered ever because I don’t ship Yami Marik with anyone, but one fic on fanfiction.net caught my attention, and my secret love for Thorn was born. Honestly, though, it has to be extremely specific circumstances for me to ship this—pretty much only if Yami Marik is human.

What is the rarest rare pair (that you ship)?

Probably Timid (SerenityXYugi). I’m not certain I’ve ever seen content for this ship anywhere. I’m surprised I even know its name. But if I think about it too long, it becomes super cute. A close tie might be Soft (SerenityXRyou) because it is also quite cute. I like cute things.

Name a popular ship you don’t get the appeal of.

Death (YamiMarikXRyou) and Puppy (SetoXJoey). As I said before, I can’t pair Yami Marik with anyone (except Anzu under special human circumstances), and even if I did, Ryou would be one of the last people I’d choose. Under certain circumstances, like years later when they’re both adults, I can maybe see Seto and Joey EVENTUALLY getting along, but as far as I’m concerned, Puppy is not a ship that would ever work. Just, no.

What is your most fluffy + happy ship?

With the power of fanfic, I can make any ship fluffy and happy. As far as pure canon is concerned, I don’t think one exists. So, with the power of my fanfic abilities, I declare that the fluffiest and happiest ship I have is Sibling (SerenityXMokuba). There might be a little angst in this relationship just because their brothers don’t get along, BUT! These two are precious fluffy babies.

What is your most angsty ship?

With the power of fanfic, I can make any ship angsty XD AUs are a particular specialty of mine in this case. Combining both canon with possible AUs, I’d have to say Manipula (AnzuXMarik) just because, canonically, there’s a lot of potential bad blood between them because of what Marik did to her and Joey and Yugi, and Marik’s not exactly a goody-two-shoes either.

A non-canon ship that should be canon?

Sibling because I consider Peach (AnzuXYugi) almost canon, and Sibling is almost the next best thing. I mean, I do ship her with Duke and Tristan, both of which are kinda canon if you look at the manga and anime respectively, but I love Sibling too much to ignore it in this question.

Your oldest ship; the one you’ve shipped for the longest time?

Peach was my first OTP in the YuGiOh franchise, and I still ship it to this day.

What ship represents the kind of relationship you’d love to have?

Peach again. I think the most important part of a romantic relationship is friendship. If you’re not besties with your significant other, then I don’t believe the relationship will work out as well. I want to be able to be myself around my significant other, and I want to be understood by them. I feel like Peach embodies this well.

Is there a ship that makes your skin crawl?

I have never been nor will ever be super comfortable with yaoi and yuri ships, but they’re not so bad as to make my skin crawl, but incest will forever make me sick, and so will pedophilia. NO THANK YOU.

What is a character you can only imagine in one particular ship?

Surprise, surprise, it’s Joey. Blame it on the lack of female characters available in YuGiOh, but I have only ever shipped him with Mai. The only way Joey gets any love in my writing/headcanons is if there are OCs involved, assuming he’s not already paired with Mai.

What is your favorite canon ship?

Rose (CeceliaXPegasus). I’m super sad that it ended so badly in canon because they are adorable, and one of my ultimate favorite YGO pairing fanarts is for this ship.

Name a ship that deserved more content.

Peach if only because I want to see them actually get together. I think that because friendship is a super focus of YuGiOh as a whole, we got a lot less romantic content than we otherwise might have liked, but that’s okay with me. That’s why fanfiction/fanart exists XD

Is there a ship you feel gets undeserved hate in fandom?

Depends on what corner of the fandom you’re in. I personally hate it when people hate on Anzu, no matter the ship she might be in, especially when they hate on her in favor of their yaoi pairings. That’s super unfair to Anzu as a character since she’s awesome and one of my favorite female characters of all time.

What is the first ship you had?

I already mentioned this in the oldest ship question, but I’ll say it again—Peach.

Is there a ship that made you realize something about yourself?

I don’t know if I can cite a specific ship, but shipping in YuGiOh is what made me realize that I like character/ship potential almost more than I like ships themselves, hence why I multiship. Because of this realization and multishipping in YuGiOh, I’ve been able to extend that to other fandoms, especially Harry Potter.

Is there a type of ship you always go for?

Depends on the situation. I’m a sucker for strong female characters who could be paired with lots of guys because I’m such a multishipper, and I love cute fluffy pairings. I do like ships with interesting conflict, but the fluffy ones always get me.

Is there a ship the writers have ruined for you?

Not that I can think of. I mean, almost no ships are canon in YuGiOh, so rather than “ruining” ships, it’s mostly just unknown for the various potential ships.

Is there a ship the fandom has ruined for you?

Not really. I already had my reasons for not shipping certain ships, and I’ve never been turned away from a ship I already shipped. I will say, though, that I wish people would tag their freakin’ ships so that I don’t have to see stuff on my dash that I don’t ship.

Have you ever created fan created content for a ship?

Yes. I’ve never drawn any of my YuGiOh ships, but I have written a couple oneshots for Peach and one for Polar. I’ve also referenced/included the following ships in stories focused on OC ships: Peach, Polar, Ardent (SerenityXTristan), Kiddy (RebeccaXMokuba), Half (MihoXRyou), Tie (MihoXTristan), Azure (AnzuXSeto), and Sedate (SerenityXMarik).

Favorite thing you’ve ever created for a ship?

Do children count? Or grandchildren? My YuGiOh OC story has an entire second and third generation to follow. I have children/grandchildren for the following ships: Peach, Polar, Ardent, Kiddy, and Half.

Is there a ship you’ll never admit you have?

No. I’m not ashamed of my ships. I admit that I don’t talk about some of them as much, but that doesn’t mean I don’t ship them or that I’m afraid to admit it.

Have you ever started shipping a ship because of the fans?

Yes. It wasn’t until fandom hit really hard in recent years that Sibling joined my roster of ships.

What is one scene you want to see happen for all your ships?

A proposal. Is that cliché? I don’t care XD

Is there a ship you wish you didn’t know existed? 

Any incest ships. I don’t know why they exist or if there are people who ship them, but I wish they’d never been conceived (the ships, not the people).

Name a ship that ended like you wanted it to.

Considering both canon ships ended in death, I’m gonna say none of them. All my ships end nicely in my head.

Name a ship that deserved better in the end.

Rose and Mizu (KisaraXSeth). Both of these ships ended in tragedy, and it makes me so sad. I NEED THEM TO BE HAPPY.

Is there a character you have several ships for?

Oh yes. Many of them. I’m a multishipper XD I have Anzu in the most ships. My Anzu ships are Azure, Host (AnzuXRyou), Manipula, Peach, Persevere (AnzuXDuke), Thorn, and Vex (AnzuXYamiBakura).

What is the ship you ignore 98% of canon for?

I don’t ignore canon, I bend canon *coughAUISMYFRIENDcough* Okay, okay, maybe my two Miho pairings, Half and Tie. Not much info is given in the manga except that Tristan/Honda has a crush on her and that she’s kinda shy, and she doesn’t exist in DM. I ignore season 0 super hardcore when it comes to Miho. To be perfectly honest, she almost feels more like an OC most days.

Is there a ship you like but you dislike the fandom?

Not really. It’s usually the other way around ’cause I love my YuGiOh friends, but most of them ship stuff I don’t.

If you’re curious about the bajillion other ships I ship that I haven’t mentioned, or if you’re wondering what het ships I don’t ship (since I’ve already ruled out all yaoi, yuri, and incest), or if you want to rant about ships we share, feel free to drop me an ask! I enjoy talking about my ships~