#would love to attempt to physically paint this one day for fun

[solarfire-art]

I always had this vision of Achilles in the style of Alexandre Cabanel’s The Fallen Angel, holding Patroclus’ body in grief and rage. So I sketched it because it is way above my skill level atm but I had to get it out of my head 😅

[redheadspark]

Hi, this is first time I am asking someone for a story, but your prompts are so fun... Well my request is for Benedict and can you pla make a combo of prompt #2 & #19 (did you know its going to be this hot, write it to confirm 😅) and when its about Benedict it will be fun to read something smuty 😉

Hope I am not being very demanding ... Thanks in advance 💮

A/N - This was great to write, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the request!

Distract

Summary - Benedict knows how to distract you, even on a hot day

Warnings - Just fluff and a HINT of steam ;)

“Are you sure all the windows are open, dear?”

“Trust me, darling.  I have every single window open in attempts to give us some relief with the breeze,” 

You hummed, using the fan as much as you could as your husband, Benedict Bridgerton, was working away at his canvas and trying his best to finish the latest piece he was working on for a month.  You loved watching him work, it was a peaceful time when you two would be in his art studio while you would be working on your correspondence and Benedict was painting.  It was what you two would do every Sunday before you would have to start your hectic weekly schedules again. 

You’ve been married to Benedict for almost 5 years now, you two have known each other since you were young and were madly in love with one another in your teens.  Of course, you both had to wait until you both were old enough for Benedict to properly court you, then propose to you.  It was rather silly since you both knew even as early teens that you would be married to each other for all of your lives.  It was also a perk that your families were close friends, both sets of parents were already inwardly planning on your courtship when they saw the spark between the pair of you.  It was safe to say that his mother, the sweet and kind Violet Bridgerton, was beyond happy to gain another daughter in her household and with her name.

You were glad too.

Having a small apartment in the Bridgerton Estate was an immense blessing, having new siblings to get to know and be social with, your own space to share with Benedict, and simply have your time as a wife with him.  He was beyond an amazing husband, making things light in diet times, knowing when to make you laugh when you were sad or simply hold you when you needed physical contact.  You both had flaws, but talking through them together as a team made it all worthwhile.  

But now there was a minor heat wave that came through the area, and even the massive Bridgerton estate would not bring any relief that would help you anytime soon.  

“Did you know it was going to be this hot today?” You asked nonchalantly as you were scanning the stack of envelopes on the desk for you to peer through.

“I wish I did, then we would have planned a better outing,” Benedict answered.  

“Perhaps we should have escaped to the lake, like Kate and Anthony,” you hummed as you looked over another ball invitation while fanning yourself, Benedict chuckling from his spot at his easel while he was drawing a long stripe of blue on the canvas.

“I’d rather be in an audience of their…love for one another,” Benedict replied with a snort, making you giggle as you looked over in his direction.  He was still dressed somewhat formally, you both coming back from a luncheon with your mother-in-law.  His blue coat and undershirt brought out the shine in his eyes and the flushness in his cheeks, making him look even more enchanting than ever.  

Every once in a while you would get lost in his appearance: whether he was working deep on a piece of art and his skin was stained in ink or charcoal, or even when you two were chatting during dinner and he was ranting about a family story.  He had a way with you, a way to make you lose your train of thought or make time stand still.  

“Darling?”

You blinked, seeing that Benedict stopped his painting and was watching you with a hint of concern, “Are you well?”

You smiled and blinked slowly, placing your fan on the desk and resting a hand on your cheek as you tilted your head at him, “More than well, since I get a marvelous view of my husband being a marvelous artist,”

Benedict grinned, the smirk he showed you was enough to make your stomach flip.  You knew that look, something reserved for the pair of you out of the public eye.  He may have Benn posted as a gentleman when it came to his name and how to conduct himself, but it was a different scenario when you two were alone.  He knew how to make you cave from a simple look or sweet talk.  Benedict has always been a flirt, before you got together and then after.  But most of the time you were the object of his flirtations.  

Which you would never object to.

“Just marvelous? Oh, you wound me,” He replied, you ruling your eyes as he continued, “The words I would use for my wife would be far more expressive,”

“Oh would they?” You asked, taking the bait that he was dangling for you.  Benedict could only smile, placing the paint brush on the easel before he walked over towards you.  He went around the desk, his eyes still drilling into yours with a signature smile as his fingers traced along the top of the dress, almost making a mess of your letter pile while he was getting closer to you.  It felt like you were frozen in your spot in the chair, your fan staying still in your hand, Benedict reaching over to take the fan from your hand delicately.

“Divine…exquisite…intelligent….kind….angelic….” He laced every word with love and affection, inching closer and closer to you as he was now perched on the top of the desk, his eyes twinkled in the sunlight and your breath was lost in your throat.  You felt every single one of those words hit you along your chest, making you feel so loved and almost as light as air.  

As soon as he was close enough to have his lips brush against yours, you felt your stomach summersault as he eyed your lips for the briefest of moments.  

“Just to name a few,” He whispered, you eyeing his lips in return as you finally grinned widely at you.

You dived in, kissing him deeply as he was perched over you on the desk.  You both kissed, leaning into each other smoothly and with no hesitation while it felt like you couldn’t get closer than ever before.  This was nothing new for you two, especially when it came to the throws of love.  Benedict was an amazing lover, knowing which buttons to push and where to touch you with both his lips and hands.  There was never a dull moment with your husband when it came to pleasure, and he would surprise you in the best way possible.

“Take off your jacket, the hell?” You huffed against his lips as you reached to push his blue jacket off.  Benedict laughed, kissing you deeply as he threw off the jacket to toss it to the floor you spoke again, “You’re making me hot just by looking at you,”

“Just by my looks?” Benedict asked in a breath, you laughing as he reached to undo a bit of your dress with his nimble and skilled fingers, “I must be lacking then.  Perhaps I should brush up a bit more,”

“Yes you must,” You hummed in return, almost in a growl.  You both let the rest of the world slip away, just like your dress slipping to the floor as well as his trousers.  

That hot day was bearable after all. 

The End

July Prompt Session

[randomationality]

Redesign of one of my many Seeker OCs, Skyburst!

ranting bout him because you know me

Skyburst is a Seeker Clone, but a very VERY defective one. He came out a complete mess when he was forged from his optics, mixed model (attempted TFA x TFP 😭), and insane paint job. Yet despite all this, he doesn't care at all. At least he wasn't cloned with Starscream's egotistic and rude personality, SB's the exact opposite!

He's optimistic, energetic and bright mech! (Both mentally and physically, get it). He has a passion for inventing, and a dream to create inventions that would help Cybertron become a better place. In his time with the Decepticons, he was excited to share his ideas with them. But they saw no good in his 'solutions' and him, especially Starscream. He was downgraded and picked on all the time, being called names like 'defect' or even 'accident' or 'mistake'. Nevertheless, that didn't stop him from believing in himself and feeling happy. All he needed was the right bots to be around to support him to achieve his goals.

One day on the battlefield, Skyburst was caught by none other than Optimus Prime, trying to escape the fight but not from cowardice. When he thought he was gonna be taken in as a prisoner, or even killed, Optimus (obviously) didn't do such a thing. Instead, he gave SB a chance, and let him join the Autobots. With no hesitation or second thoughts, Skyburst joined in and was the happiest he's ever been.

Now an Autobot, he loves his new 'family'. He enjoys the kids' company, playing short games with Bulkhead and Jackie, and especially getting to actually invent all his ideas into reality. He goes through a lot of trial and error, a little too much he sees Ratchet everyday just to get a few* scratches, scars and burns mended due to most of his inventions blowing up when he tests them. Wheeljack tells him he's proud whenever it does.

The only other thing he actually needs is a new paint job, but he doesn't want to.

*few being about 2763 but thats okay 👍

Fun Facts!!

He likes mixing Cybertroian technology with human tech, like basically making human devices or other gizmos but for Cybertronians to use. He made a working laptop!

He can go WAYYY off topic in team meetings. Once he went talking about moths - specifically Australian Magpie moths - for an hour and a half.

Since the mix between Cybertroragnic tech, he's seen the internet. But DON'T YOU WORRY, it was the safe nostalgic Vine era. He's also learnt how to read English, but that also draws some confusion to the Autbots. Like the basic anatomy like hands and head, while Cybertronians call it servos and helm. (Also slang)

This might seem crazy but...

he can hear music from plants.

[your-local-uwu-artist]

it was suggested I post this to the tags as well >:D

fuck it ima tag @transcendence-au as well because tbh I'm very proud of my silly little animation

some me being a nerd under the cut!

okay so this all started when I read the original post this was inspired by and though 'wouldn't it be silly to add some art to this 3 year old post?' but then I decided to animate it for funsies!

and gosh I sure do love animating!

So I got the base sketch and then got into the lineart animation for each component!

i don't have the sketches/wips saved at all sense this wasn't really a project and it took less than a day to complete. but here's a peak at the timeline

I animate entirely in my ususal drawing software: clip studio paint. It's just what's easiest for me.

all of these layers outside that folder are just the sparkles! after I finished I added some sparkles for fun! there's a lot of them because it involved a lot of copy and pasting sparkle layers

the bottom folders here are the wings body and facial expression! for everything like the wings arms and flags I was able to just copy paste, reverse, and then align the timing correctly in the timeline

one thing unique about this animation is that the lineart and colors are in separate layers! I tend to do line and colors on the same layer but this time I was using a brush that doesn't have the same lack of anti-aliasing and sense it's a small animation I wasn't as worried about keeping a minimum of layers like usual.

also the movement of the body is only 4 frames! and one one of those is just the hat shifting position

initially I wasn't going to have the second facial expression but when I got stuck on animating the flags I added the second facial expression while taking a break.

the arm animation is just 8 frames! honestly the only tricky part in this is the flags, everything else was pretty simple, which made it super fun to work on because I got both a challenge and mindless therapeutic drawing out of it.

NOW THE FLAGS there was 3 throw away attempts before I got it: you see the thing that made this tricky is finding the balance between believability and visual appeal. a big part of animation is creating the illusion of physics, this is the 'believability' part, I need these to look like flags that are moving and made of flat fabric, HOWEVER if I animate these one-to-one with realistic physics: it won't look good! I can't apply wind to the whole drawing because then the hair would have to react, and wind goes one way, and I wan't the flags to be pointing opposite directions. so without wind the flags would be laying down flat, but that won't look good at all! and furthermore realistic physics would have the flag not being all nice and front facing most of the time. so the trick here was figuring out how much physics to apply to make it look believable, while still making it look good.

one trick I did to help me animate the flags is I actually made a plan rectangle flag as a guide so that the general mass/volume of the flag would stay consistent, this is something i highly recommend when animating! like having a circle guide along a characters head to keep their height and proportions consistent.

after I finally found the balance with the flag lineart coloring wasn't too hard! sense I just had to follow the lines, and THANK GOODNESS the trans and aroace flag have the same number of stripes: saving me time!

and then it all comes together to make a satisfying perfectly looping bundle of cuteness >:DDD I feel like the tau fandom doesn't have as many artists with particularly cartoony/chibi art styles so I've gotta play my part in spreading the joy-whimsy-adorable-sillys >:D

anyway! hope you get to see a cool beetle today :D

[normspellsman]

Forever

part one | part two | part three | part four (wip)

pairing: ao’nung x fem!sully!reader

genre: fluff (for most of it), mentions of enemies to lovers, a bit angsty at the end, & mentions of forbidden lovers + secret relationships

word count: 2k+

warning(s): ao’nung being an absolute SIMP for the reader (as he should tho), mentions of ao’nung teasing the reader – name calling & some physical harassment, mentions of reader & lo’ak being twins, talks of violence, mentions of childhood bullying, threat of bodily harm, lo’ak being a bit of a bitch, mentions of hickies, cursing, & sad!reader at the end

taglist: @aonungsmate @optimisticblazetrash

word bank: sa’nok — mother, yawntu — beloved; love; loved one, yawne — beloved, sempul — father, iknimaya — rite of passage for na’vi teens, & toruk makto — rider of last shadow

note: bit of ooc lo’ak bc i know my baby would never, but for the sake of this plot he’s a bit of a douche towards reader. this is the first part & the second part will most likely be the last part but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy <3

You hadn’t even been in Awa’atlu for two minutes before Ao’nung had decided to make his target.

The Olo’eyktan’s son had loved teasing you. Always pulling on your much smaller and thinner tail, causing you to hiss out in pain and smack his hand away as he and his other goons laughed. Always making fun of your pin straight hair, calling it dull and ugly compared to the other Metkayina’s long bouncy curls. Calling you a freak or alien due to your extra finger on both hands. He pushed your buttons on many occasions throughout the days you stayed on the island. He absolutely loved it. He loved riling you up and getting a reaction out of you. A small smirk dancing on his lips whenever he stormed away from his figure, fuming as a result of his continuous teasing.

But there was something that he loved more than teasing you. He loved loving you. He loved to grab your dainty hands in his and pull apart each finger gently, spreading your long fingers until they matched up against his larger hands, smirking at how smaller they looked even with the extra finger you produced. He loved playing with your braids, looping them around his pointer finger as he messed with the numerous beads and feathers adorning them. He loved calling you his yawntu. He loved seeing the light blush paint your cheeks purple whenever he called you a term of endearment. He loved putting his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your calming scent, making him purr out in delight. He loved all of you. Especially your stubborn personality that made him want to groan out in annoyance whenever things didn’t go your way. He adored and loved you.

Ao’nung had a funny way of expressing his interest in you at first. He practically followed you everywhere around the remote island. Sometimes he’d be teasing you as he trailed behind you, pulling at the string of your loincloth and laughing as it harshly snapped back against your dark azure skin. Sometimes he’d just be silent, basking solely in your presence as you explored the forest-like parts of the island. Other times he’d talk to you, asking what you did back home and what your favorite foods were, making a mental note to ask his Sa’nok if they had any of the ingredients so he could attempt to make it for you. And most of the time, he teased you and your siblings for your differences.

His teasing never bothered you, much. It was frustrating at times but it wasn’t like you never heard any of his teasing words before.

Back home, you, your twin brother, Lo’ak, and older sister Kiri were the talk of the village amongst the other children. You three were the only ones with five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot, a differing contrast from the four fingered and toed children your age.

Children loved to call you half breed, alien, and even demon. They often pulled at your pinky, wanting to see what it would do as a reaction. They also pulled at your ears and tripped you wherever you went, pulling your feet into their hands to study your five toed foot. They were so cruel and mean growing up, eventually growing out of it as they got older. But, some children didn’t.

Oftentimes, whenever their teasing reached Neteyam or Lo’ak’s ears, they would avoid eye contact with you as your bullies sported new spilt lips and black eyes from your brother's anger. And even that didn’t stop some kids from continuing their teasing, but it was few and far in between once you completed your Iknimaya.

So when Ao’nung had begun to tease you and Kiri that one afternoon that ended in both Neteyam and Lo’ak beating him and his goons, Lo’ak made sure to keep you in his line of sight whenever you wandered off to do whatever you did. This had forced the both of you to keep your budding relationship a secret from your beloved twin brother.

And that’s what lead you to this very moment. You wrapped up in Ao’nung’s arms as the both of you hid away in your special secret spot that he found just for the two of you, looking up at the starry sky as your lover whispered sweet endearments into your sensitive ears.

“You make me so happy, yawntu,” Ao’nung gently whispered, nuzzling his face into the side of your head, burying it in your hair.

You softly giggled at your boyfriends actions, turning your head slightly to hide the part he was nuzzling into.

You loved it whenever Ao’nung went soft for you. It was only a sight for you to see and your heart warmed at that fact. Ao’nung had a tendency to keep others at an arms length at all times, doing so by hissing out harsh words and other means. But you could see through his façade the minute he began to pull your tail and tease you. He felt like he needed to be mean or seem dominant in public in order to receive respect from others within the clan. He was the Olo’eyktan’s only son and was expected to lead the clan one day. Ao’nung had so much pressure and weight put onto his shoulders from the expectations of his Sempul and clanspeople, something you could somewhat relate to being a child of Toruk Makto. Although that was no excuse for how he treated you and your siblings. You made him promise to not tease your siblings the way he did before when you got together. And he didn’t, keeping his promise he made to you.

“You make me happy too, Ma Ao’nung,” you whisper back, pulling a bit forward to lay a kiss on the boys turquoise skin.

Ao’nung had sighed out in contentment at your words, a soft purring sound emitting from his chest. He felt truly relaxed in your presence, it being evident in his lax body posture and rumbling coming from his chest.

“You’re purring, yawne,” you giggle out, smiling at the fact as you felt the rumbling movement against your back.

Ao’nung pouted at your words, “Am not,” he denied, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pulled his face away from your soft hair, “I do not purr.”.

The boy knew he was lying. Of course he purred whenever he was in your presence. But he didn’t want you to get too cocky from that fact. You already had him so wrapped around your finger that he didn’t need another reminder as to just how much he was in love with you.

You rolled your big amber eyes at your boyfriends denial, “Sure, Nung. You definitely do not purr”.

Ao’nung whined at your words, pulling you in closer to his chest, hiding his blushing face into your neck.

“I think it’s cute, my love,” you reassured, once again placing a kiss onto your lover's forehead, “It means you feel content and relaxed around me”.

At your words, Ao’nung smiled into your neck and pecked the side of it with a kiss. He was in so deep he was sure that Rotxo and his other friends would make fun of how he basically turned into putty in your presence.

Soon enough, you began to purr to response to Ao’nung constant rumbling, relax enough in his arms to do so.

He smiled at your purring, his getting even louder once he registered the fact.

Ao’nung began to gently kiss up and down the side of your neck, lightly biting where he placed a kiss every once in a while. He loved showing you how much he cared and adored you, often voicing his adoration through his kisses.

A gentle sigh escaped from your soft lips at your boyfriends actions, melting deeper into his embrace as he did so.

Everything was so quiet and peaceful. You felt as if you could stay in this moment for all eternity. Stay in Ao’nungs warm arms forever.

But all good things eventually come to an end.

You were to caught up in the feeling of Ao’nungs soft lips against your neck that you didn’t register the snapping of a branch a few feet away from the both of you. Your ears didn’t even twitch at the sound, to caught up in the sound of Ao’nung kissing hickies into your neck.

“Holy fuck,” a voice whispered out, making both you and Ao’nung freeze at the familiarity of it, stomachs twisting in anxiety, “You little shit!”.

There stood an angry Lo’ak, fists tightly clenched by his sides as his tail furiously swished side to side behind him. If looks could kill, Ao’nung would be six feet under by now.

“Lo’ak,” you whisper out, scrambling out of your boyfriends arms and onto your feet, meeting your brother halfway in his angry stride.

You made hard contact with the lean chest of your twin, putting your hands onto his chest to keep him a safe distance away from your lover.

“You’re seeing my sister?!” He hissed out, voice laced in anger, practically shaking at the intense feeling, “I told you to stay the fuck away from her! Do I need to beat it into you again before you understand?”.

You growled at your brother's words, lips drawn back in a scowl. You had growled and hissed at your twin only a couple of times and they all were when you were much younger than you were now.

Lo’ak growled back at you, too consumed in his anger to think clearly.

“What are you doing with him, (Y/N)? After all that he’s done to Kiri, to me, to you,” he hissed out yet again.

A deadly look had made its way onto Ao’nungs face as he glared at Lo’ak, quickly getting up to put himself between you and your very angry brother.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” he growled out between clenched teeth, getting behind you as he towered over your backside, back and head making contact with Ao’nungs chest.

Lo’ak drew his ears and lips back, actually hissing at the Metkayina boy. Ao’nung returned the gesture.

“I won’t hesitate to beat you to a pulp right here, right now in front of (Y/N), maybe then she’ll come to her senses about you and leave,” Lo’ak yelled out, attempting to get closer to your boyfriend but your body stopped him from doing so.

You gasped out at his words while Ao’nung growled once again at your brother. How dare he speak to him like that? To you like that?

“Lo’ak!” You exclaimed, shock and anger clearly written onto your face. You were angry at how your brother was acting. You knew that this kind of reaction was a possibility once you and Ao’nung were ready to expose your relationship, but you didn’t expect this kind of reaction.

“What is wrong with you?” You questioned, pushing at your twins chest, making him stagger a bit.

“Me? What’s wrong with me?” He hissed out, body shaking in anger as he pointed to himself with his closed fist, “What’s wrong with you? You’re the one slutting around with our bully!”.

Lo’ak’s words had caused you to shrink into yourself, causing intense hurt to spread throughout your body. Sure you and Lo’ak often argued as siblings do and called each other all kinds of names and neither of you meant it, but it seemed like your brother truly meant what he said.

A loud growl was heard from behind you, Ao’nung now extremely pissed at your sorry excuse for a brother. He would never call Tsireya a slut or even accuse her of slutting around with Lo’ak. He had actual common sense to never call his sister that.

“I’m going to kill you for talking to her like that, Lo’ak,” Ao’nung muttered, also shaking with anger.

Everything seemed to go silent as your ears began to block out any other noise except for your breathing and rapid, breaking heartbeat.

You began to walk away from the scene, sadness settling itself into your bones as you drifted further and further from your love and brother.

Maybe everything good doesn���t last forever.

[i984]

A Scarlet Touch | Part 2

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, brief tongue shoving, study dates, Wednesday holds grudges, poor attempt at displaying all 5 love languages, reader turns out to be a sucker for physical touch, but gets so embarrassed in front of other people, reader doesn't understand triangles, Wednesday never loses; she has a plan B: Enid.

|Summary|: Wednesday investigates what makes you tick just so she can give you a pay back.

|Word count|: almost 1k words

|A/n|: This is a part 2 to "Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade" (please go to my masterlist in the description), see replies for more. Enjoy!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

At last.

Wednesday had found your weakness.

Ever since you 'harassed' Wednesday with compliments the other day, the raven-haired girl has declared war between the two of you; and she's determined to come out as a winner. 

Quality time. Acts of services. Gifts. Words of affirmation. Wednesday has tried it all—to the best she can—and none seem to have affected you at all. 

Of course, at first, you were caught a little off guard. 

When Wednesday finally brought up your request for her to tutor you for the upcoming math exam, you had been ecstatic—though admittedly a little suspicious. You had practically begged her to do so for ages, but after your most recent revelation the other day, she had said no to any offer to spend time together, just the two of you. 

But now? She's the one who asks if you still want to do it, and when you have said yes, she wastes no time, practically dragging you to your dorm room. 

You half-expected Wednesday to pull you in for a make-out session as soon as she slammed the door after you. But nope. She went straight to the balcony to grab the extra chair you put out there and took a seat next to your desk.

Huh. Guess you really are studying. 

.

.

.

"-so the angle of the special right side of the triangle is 183?"

Wednesday scoffed irritatedly. "No. Absolutely not. The total angle of a triangle is 180. How would one single angle of a triangle exceed the total number? Do it again."

To your brain, what Wednesday has said only sounds like an incoherent string of jumbled sentences. You groaned out loud and banged your head against the desk.

"I don't want to do this anymore," you dragged out the last word, "lets just do something else that's more fun and less..." Your brows furrowed as you tried to find the right word, "...numbery."

"Numbers are fun. Formulas and logic ties in together pleasantly and produce a definite answer. A right answer." 

Unlike you. There's no 'right' answer for you. 

You huffed in frustration. "Of course, you'd think that, Wens." 

The damned nickname. 

"You're smart and beautiful, and you use words that I don't understand—like just now—so of course you'll always come up with a right answer." You toy with the pages of the trigonometry workbook Wednesday had 'gifted' you earlier, missing the dark crimson color painting your girlfriend's cheeks. 

"I can never do that," you sigh as your head looks up at the ceiling, "I can't find the right answer."

Wednesday can find answers in even literature and paintings—the fruits of human thoughts that are up for various different interpretations with no set answers. But even works like Mona Lisa can't dream of rivaling the challenge you presented her. 

A challenge to break you.

Wednesday tapped at your desk, demanding your attention. You disobeyed, eyes too busy trailing the movements of the spider hanging from your dorm room ceiling. 

You're driving her crazy.

"...look at me," Wednesday calls out your name with an icy tone, and you snap your gaze at her, body tense. "Now, listen. You're hopeless-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No need to rub it in, geez." 

"You're hopeless," Wednesday repeats her words, but this time her gaze stays on yours, unrelenting. You shut up. 

"and I don't think I can help. Nobody can." Her voice carries an unnerving certainty as she continues, "Except yourself."

"Wait, did you try to encourage me just now?" Your voice is dripping with mischief, eyebrows raised teasingly. 

If not for the internal war she desperately needs to win against you, Wednesday would've stuck the pen she's holding and jammed it in your eyes. 

Priorities, Wednesday reminded herself. Maddening priorities.

"Think of it however you want," Wednesday unwillingly chokes out, "but I will not let you come out of this room. Not until we're done." 

"That's cute, love. It really is." You scribble on the paper absentmindedly, "but even with your sweet, sweet words of encouragement, I doubt I can claw myself out of the hole I've dug myself into, unless..."

Wednesday sees your gaze slowly moving to hold her own; there's a glint of perversity in your eyes, and she knows you're about to say something that would make her wretched black heart pumps uncontrollably and burst. 

"...you kiss me with those tempting burgundy lips of yours." 

No, no, no. Not this again.

"And not just a quick peck, I mean a kiss. A full-blown make-out session where our breaths would mingle, and I could feel your nose bumping against my cheek. That kind of kiss." 

You chuckled lightly, brows raising in challenge. And that's all Wednesday needs before she makes up her mind.

It has finally come to this. The dreaded physical touch. The one Wednesday had oh-so-desperately tried to avoid, hoping that it wouldn't be the one to work on you. 

But here she is, about to make the devil's pack with her disgustingly cunning lover. 

Wednesday's about to lose, unless—

—a knock. Followed by a "Wednesday! I've got your note from Thing. Can I come in?" from outside the door.

Your smug face drops and the colors drain, contrasting Wednesday's eery victorious leer, and she grabs your arm and pulls you flush into her embrace.

"You know what? Your wish is granted, mio caro." The term of endearment sounds vicious in her low voice, and you shudder; eyes tearing apart from Wednesday's sharp gaze.

"Yes, come in, Enid." Wednesday shouts loud enough for her roommate to hear before gripping your jaw—your scarlet face now so close to Wednesday's you can feel her warm breath tickles your face as she whispers;

"I win."

Wednesday shoves her tongue in, and the door blasts open.

Shit.

[fan-goddess]

For kinktober:

Billy Washington x face sitting

Modern Aemond x getting caught

Tom bennettt x public sex

would adore if you could do these, I love your writing so much! 💕

Authors Note: thank you for these love and the compliment! Gonna do the Billy Washington x face sitting one here and I’ll do the other ones separately so it’s just easier. Thank you for waiting for this as long as you did, I realised I sort of did them in the wrong order ha still boo you like these ♥️

Warnings: Praising, f oral, face sitting, teasing, hint at m oral, (if I miss any let me know)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @helaelaemond @omgbrcat

You and Billy had been dating for quite some time now, and for the whole time, you’d noticed that he’d always been eager to please.

Whether that was with a nice hot cup of tea when you got back from a stressful day at work, or even just calling the local Chinese place for food when he could tell that you were too tired to try and attempt to cook anything that night.

It was also unsurprising to the both of you when you realised how eager to please Billy was in other areas of your relationship too.

“I’m back love!” You yell, chucking off your coat onto the hook and flinging your messenger bag somewhere by the sofa, before walking to the direction of the bedroom.

“Hey babe” Billy smiles, sneaking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, so he can give you a quick affectionate kiss on the forehead.

“How was your day? Did you chat to Lana? I swear she said something about calling you sometime today… or it may have been tomorrow?” You muse, dragging Billy to the bed and laying down next to him, humming slightly in content as his arms wrap around you once more as your head rests on his chest.

“Yeah, spoke to Lana earlier. She’s doing alright for herself. Had a couple dates with that fella of hers and got another tomorrow. Had a call of the job centre too. Some mechanic place is hiring for apprenticeships and stuff and I got an interview next week.”

“Billy thats bloody brilliant!” You grin, bringing your hands up to cup his face before practically yanking him in for a deep kiss, chuckling slightly against his lips in amusement as you feel how eager Billy is for your kisses and general affection.

“I’ve got no work to do, so I’m free all afternoon for whatever you desire my love.” You grin, a mischievous smile painted on your lips as Billy’s own face turns a light shade of pink from bashfulness. It’s always fun teasing him and seeing the way he gets.

“Well, there is something I’ve been wanting to try for a while. Since you’ve been saying about me taking charge more-“

“Billy I don’t care if you’re more submissive or dominant in this relationship! I just care about you not thinking you need to bend over backwards for me! Cause I’ll be here no matter what kinks you suddenly pull out! Well, I will run for the actual hills if you suggest anything feet related, but that’s a different matter-“

“It’s not fucking feet love!” Billy laughs, the noise making your chest practically ache from happiness as the stress seems to somehow physically drain from his face.

You always loves Billy’s laugh. The small barely noticeable stress wrinkles you never tell him about seems to magically smooth away, and almost make him look strangely innocent.

“It’s… well… I wanted to maybe have you sit on my face…”

“You want what?” Your eyes furrow at Billy’s murmur. But when he repeats it louder and clearer, your breathes go ragged and you can already feel your legs clenching together in anticipation.

“I want you to sit on my face. So I can eat you out, till you can’t take it anymore…”

“Oh…” You hate how breathless you sound. But the thought of Billy doing that to you is doing too many unholy things to your head that you can’t help but bite your lip in deep thought. “Yeah… I think we can definitely do that baby.”

“Good!” It’s so precious how he smiles so bashfully in front of you. He’s like a whole new man. Like he didn’t just suggest something that made your face blush bright red from his request mere moments ago. “So get on my face now.”

Your heart feels as if it could explode with how hard your blood was pumping to your face right now, but you can’t help but nod eagerly to Billy’s demands and quickly strip yourself nude, your clothes flying all over the room as you focus on Billy, and Billy only.

You’re awkward in your movements at first, never having a man do this so intimate thing with you before, and yet Billy takes this in stride. Before you can even get to sit yourself on his chin, he grabs at your thighs and clumsily forces your whole body on his face, where you can’t help but grind slightly on as one of the most intense feelings of your life hits you.

It’s strange, to have Billy’s wet warm tongue piercing your wet cunt, and to have his nose simultaneously nuzzling your clit, but it’s amazing, perfect, and is honestly making you feel practically delirious.

Yet even with the intense feeling, the worry of suffocating your beloved boyfriend is more important. So when you try to lift yourself up a bit to give him some room to breath, you find yourself letting a loud sigh of surprise and pleasure as Billy only goes and pulls you straight back, holding your legs even tighter in his grip to stop you from moving.

“Don’t move again…” Billy murmurs, “Fucking gorgeous…”

You can only sigh in agreement, and can’t help yourself from grinding further on Billy’s eager face, completely disregarding your earlier worries. Your hands clasp desperately where they can, which in your case, is Billy’s shaggy hair that tickles your lower half slightly. Though when you tighten your grip slightly, you can feel Billy groan slightly as he eats you out, seemingly aroused by your tight grip on his body.

You quickly begin whining in approval though. “Fuck Billy so good for me!” Adoring the way he becomes to desperate to hear your praise, and the way his actions seem to quicken to appease you.

His own groans of pleasure may be muffled, but they certainly are enthusiastic, as the vibrations somehow seem to only heighten your pleasure.

You can feel the bed shake slightly, and when you turn your head slightly to look behind you, your mouth falls open on its own accord as you see Billy’s hard cock straining in his underwear. His hips even mimicking small thrusts in order to get some kind of stimulation for himself.

It’s almost endearingly amusing to you to see the small wet patch forming in his underwear from his own arousal. You think he could almost cum alone from eating you out. A thing you soon almost find yourself doing as Billy’s movements get rougher.

“Oh my god I’m gonna cum Billy!” You whine, your grip on Billy’s hair becoming rough as the knot in your stomach tightens, on the brink of bursting, only spilling over when you begin to rut your pussy on his willing mouth like a woman possessed.

It’s so intense, that you find yourself somehow more aroused and yet thankful with Billy’s tight grip on your thighs, that turns almost bruising as he makes sure you don’t almost fall off his face. And when your legs begin to cramp and you move to lay beside your lover and properly look at him, your breath feels like it’s been swept away as you see your juices shining all over his face.

You can feel your face burn red in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands as you try to hide your shyness. “Billy, you’ve got well, me all over your face love…”

You can hear him hum slightly and when you peak through your fingers to see what he does, your legs unconsciously clamp together seeing his tongue trying to pick up as much of you as he can, his fingers too trying to catch any he was unable to get with his tongue.

“You’re gonna kill me someday Billy Washington!” You grin, moving to give him a firm kiss on his damp cheek, and giggling when you see his beautiful bashful smile. The Billy you’re used too, the submissive Billy, coming back to you right before your eyes.

Speaking of your eyes, they once again trail to Billy’s crotch, where his cock still strains against the fabric of his pants with a distinct wet patch still drawing your main attention.

“Do you want me to help you out with that baby?”

“Only if you want to darling.”

Your hand teases the outline of him, your smile smug as he whines into the air. “Of course I want to sweet boy, I’d be crazy not to.”

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 9 – AUs

Cold Space, Warm Welcome by Annie D (scaramouche)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 15,572 Tags: Sci-Fi, Misunderstandings, Pining Steve

Summary: Tony’s spent a couple of years flying around the galaxy in his best friend Rhodey’s spaceship the Iron Advance, doing what could perhaps be counted as ‘hero’ work. Among their allies is Steve Rogers, captain of his own crew, with whom Tony has a… potentially friendly relationship. When Steve’s ship is irreparably damaged, Rhodey takes him and his whole crew onto the Iron Advance to recover. Tony’s not at all nervous about this, because so what if this is the first time Steve will see him without the Iron Man armor?

Reasons why I love it: Steve is so whipped for Tony, oh my god. I adore their dynamic here, and it's so much fun to see all of Steve's fumbling attempts to make his interest known from Tony's point of view, who is utterly oblivious. And the setting itself is fantastic, it really paints a picture of what their lives in space are like. I love this fic to bits, and I bet you will too!

The Scars of Your Love by blue_jack

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 5,462 Tags: Scars, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up and Making Up

Summary: On the day Peggy moved out, Steve stood naked in front of the mirror and looked at all the ragged lines running over his body. He felt like someone had taken a knife to him, slicing every inch open, and he didn’t understand how there wasn’t any blood. He traced one particularly thick scar on his stomach, gritting his teeth against the pain, the memory of the first time he’d brought Peggy over to meet his family and all the teasing that had accompanied it burning through his mind. He couldn’t imagine her marks ever disappearing, and in that moment, he didn’t want them to, didn’t want to ever expose himself to that much hurt again. Once in a lifetime was enough.

Reasons why I love it: Having heartbreak leave actual, physical scars on your body is such a kickass concept. Emotional pain is so real it often feels like it should leave scars, and Steve sure hasn't been spared during his lifetime. I really like how the whole later conflict with Tony is set up because of Steve's relationship with Peggy. It feels very true to Steve's character that he acts the way he does. And oh my god, poor Tony. I love this one, please go and check it out!

Missing and Ravished by SailorChibi

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,760 Tags: Serial Killer Steve, Officer Tony, Gore

Summary: Officer Tony Stark really did not mean to fall in love with a serial killer.

Reasons why I love it: This might sound weird, but if canon Steve ever became a serial killer, I imagine that it would be exactly like this. I love the whole premise of the fic, of Tony being torn between his duty, his morales and his emotions, and the moment it all comes crashing down is immensely satisfying. I love everything about this fic, so I hope you give it a shot!

Steve Rogers' Life Is Not A Romance Movie (He Wouldn't Get The References, Anyway) by someonelsesheart

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Pepper/Natasha Rating: T Words: 7,909 Tags: High School AU, Humor, Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Steve hasn't always had this ridiculous crush on Tony Stark. (Or, the one where Steve is his polite old self and doesn't really hate Tony Stark (unfortunately), Tony is a child progidy and apparently a cab driver now, too, and high school is still high school, even when you are the son of a billionaire.)

Reasons why I love it: Steve the spitfire makes an appearance! They're both such dorks in this, and the way they stand up for each other in front of bullies legitimately makes my heart melt. Also, Pepper and Natasha are queens, and I adore them with my whole heart. Definitely check this one out, it's adorable!

Stellar Love Affairs by AvengersNewB, BladeoftheNebula

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 5,407 Tags: A/B/O (Omega Tony, Alpha Steve), Mating Cycles, Space AU

Summary: Captain Steve Rogers gets assigned to command the starship Avenger. Everything is going as expected until he sets eyes on Tony Stark, who happens to be the first omega Steve's ever met.

Reasons why I love it: A Star Trek fusion, A/B/O, fuck or die fic written by two of my favorite people in this fandom? It's like this fic was written for me! I love everything about it, from the worldbuilding to the smut to them getting their heads out of their asses and finally communicating. It's fantastic, and I highly recommend you check it out for yourself!

[butternaife]

no time at all!-- PILOT

Welcome Home + reader

warnings: derealisation, could cause paranoia, not proofread lmao

notes: so here's the first little drabble of the story I'd mentioned earlier! I'm not new at all to writing, but please keep in mind this is the first story I've posted to Tumblr, so the formatting could suck really bad. 

I have SO many ideas for what I want to continue this with, please tell me if you want to see more. thanks for reading!!  please please please rb if you're able :3

part 2 is posted!

 ╔══•●•══╗╔══•●•══╗╔══•●•══╗╔══•●•══╗╔══•●•══╗

The sounds of the coffee shop around you filled the room; the everyday hustle and bustle of footsteps, casual chatter, and the clinking of porcelain cups were a familiar comfort, and god knows you needed it right now.

The face of the website you'd had open for several days now stared at you (through you?), the direct eye contact of the cartoon puppet mascots making you squirm in your seat.

Welcome Home! It said in bright pastel letters and a font you didn't recognize, though it sparked a deep sense of nostalgia in you; the whole concept did. In fact, that was the whole reason you’d found yourself falling down this rabbit hole of researching, trying any kind of letter combinations in the web address, scrolling through every page you could access with all the text highlighted.

You knew the secrets: the hidden messages, the png title responses in the guestbook, the audio mp4… and it thrilled you.

You hadn't grown up watching the infamous puppet show, of course, you doubt anyone has. Hell, part of you agreed with the people saying it didn't ever exist and all of this was just some online creepy pasta goosechase. Even though, it was so fun to play along, right? To be part of the community, or to be part of the joke, it didn't matter at the end of the day.

Whatever circumstances brought you to wherever you were mentally, and here to this cafe physically, this puppet show had you wrapped around its finger; you didn't really know if you loved the mascots, with their fun, bright designs and their bubbly personalities; something akin to what you'd grown up with, like you'd known them your entire life– or if they terrified you. The same traits that had made them so endearing made them so devoid of life, so lonely and cold when you’d think about it too long. Made to be loved by an audience just to be erased from history entirely- all to be excavated now, alongside these grotesque secrets and mysteries… like it was hidden for a reason. (Exciting, right?)

You scrolled absent-mindedly through the Neighborhood page, looking through all the biographies of the characters, picking apart the text in any ways you could, though you can only command-all and highlight for so long before it’s just a desperate attempt made in vain.

you already knew all the secrets

Home is where the heart is and Welcome Home's residents are the heart of the neighborhood. Even if you don't live there, you're still one of its most important denizens! But don't worry, with the help of this colorful array of neighbors, it'll feel just like home in no time at all!

Yeah, yeah, whatever, they love me.

What used to put a pit in your stomach didn't really do all too much now. The immersiveness wears off after a while. It used to fill you with questions: “am i important to them as the viewer? Are they sentient enough to understand? If they are… how do they feel about it? About me?”

Losing yourself in the story was easy initially, but the meandering possibilities became meaningless prompts. It was just a slogan now.

Your cursor hovers over the titular Home, a second delay in hesitation. Even if nothing else sent a chill down your spine, Home would never fail to unnerve you.

You click.

You're greeted by Wally, the PNG of him painting, the one you see plastered over every blog or post regarding Welcome Home. it was silly of you to expect anything else.

You felt yourself ease back into your chair; there aren't any more secrets to discover until the website is next updated.

As you half-heartedly scroll to click on the Good Bye!, a mystery in itself, you saw it.

Wally’s eyes had just followed your mouse, even by just half an inch, you Swear To God you saw them move.

An overwhelming tremor of sudden panic took over your body; you felt your heart fall deep into your stomach. With a loud thunk, you slammed your laptop closed. You felt the stares of concern burn into your back from the other patrons of the coffee shop, but you didn't care. Hoisting yourself up, laptop in tow, you hurry out through the door, only the greeting bell breaking the apprehensive silence youd left behind you.

Its nothing, you were just staring too long,

you'd thought, though partially drowned out by the sound of your footsteps and the deafening beating of your heart.

Of course you got freaked out, you were looking to be scared, so you came up with something to be scared of. That's all it is; made up.

It didn't really happen.

You had to tell yourself this several times as you walked to your car, trying to shake the image out of your head.

It's not real.

[yuuniee]

🕊️ About: Renée Rose Menken

[🔗]

🏷️ @thehollowwriter @deeva-arud @boopshoops @starry-night-rose @fumikomiyasaki @twsted-princess @twstinginthewind @twst-the-night-away

(lmk if you wanna be untagged!!)

(tw: emotional and physical abuse, killing)

Renée was born into a wealthy family, her mother being a CEO of her own company and her father being a military lieutenant. However, her parents were divorced. From Monday to Thursday, she was with her mom. From Friday to Sunday, she was with her father and brother.

When she was with her mother, she was.. let’s say ‘pushed to perfection’. Her mom would punish her even in the slightest mistake and tell her every day that she was her only hope. She would barely give her any food and would make fun of her for helping the maids with the chores, but would put her in various courses like cooking, playing instruments, karate, chess and many more. Her mother (and younger sister to an extent) always abused her and degraded her. But when she was with her father, brother and the dogs, she was happier than ever.

With her father, she had more freedom of choice. She was well cared for and well fed. She never told the way her dad treated her because she hated it when her papa was mad. To her, he was her biggest hero. His trained dobermans, Rufus and Brutus, also cared about her a lot. They alerted her father when she was in danger, accompanied her in her school road and even waited for her until the bell rang for dismissal. He treated her wounds when she was injured and also showed her how to do first aid, took care of her when she was sick, and also taught her some self defense in case she needed to defend herself.

With her brother, they painted together. Sometimes it was for exchanging ideas, sometimes drawing each other, and sometimes it was just painting random shapes and lines. He taught her that everything can be art if one looks at it with their mind’s eye. They taught her that violence isn’t always the best answer and that words can have a bigger impact than harm, which she already knew thanks to her mother.

With her sister, Aimée, it was more.. complicated. While they used to play together before, it wasn’t until later that her sister began treating Renée the same way as their mother and making her time a bit miserable around their dad’s home, thanks to mommy dearest’s (/sarc) lies. Luckily, she has always been stopped by their dad whenever Aimée misbehaved.

But still, no matter how much loved she felt in her father’s house, she could never get rid of the feeling of being worthless to her mother and always felt a void in her heart that yearned for her mom’s love. Her mom never told her she was proud of her, only gave answers like “As expected.” or “As you should.” She even told her that she would love her if she disappeared from the face of earth which caused that void in her heart to grow bigger.

Growing up, she was a bright child with the best grades in class and was always at the top three in her school. She liked to help others with their work and she was friendly and understanding, but also a bit mature for her age. While other children played together, she was always alone, reading a book or studying for the next class. And since she looked frail, she often passed out, especially in P.E classes. When her parents were called in, her mother usually chose to ignore it while her father was way more understanding and even offered to take her home immediately. While in her mother’s case she was left in the infirmary until she felt better to go to class, in her father’s case he got her a sandwich, some juice, some chocolates or dried fruits, and let her rest as much as she wanted.

One day, the day she turned 16, her mom attempted to marry her off to a man she had never heard of before. But she ran away from there to a train station. Before she could catch the train, a serial killer caught her and killed her by cutting her throat.

Later, she found herself in Twisted Wonderland (she was brought there by Valerie) because she wished for a world where people could like her for who she is behind the mask of ‘perfection’.

In her first year, she was a cold but caring lady. She scolded others when they made a mistake, but also helped them correct it. Back then, she didn’t really have a place to stay, a comfortable room to sleep in or something other than salty crackers to eat. So, she began working in Mostro Lounge as a part-timer and earned some money to eat at the cafeteria. Some people handed her their food, some of them gave her some clothes, and some of them even let her stay in their room. Among the ones that helped her was Fawn, a (now former) honor student who knew the moment she came, that the girl in front of her had been through a lot of terrible things. She let her in her room for the most of the time and soon chatted with her about the things in school. For some reason, she avoided talking about her past which made her more curious. And one day, she asked her;

“...Even when you know I’m from a different world than yours, why are you still helping me? I’ve always been rude to you this entire time... Why are you still friendly to me?”

To which she replied;

“Because I can clearly see from the look in your eyes that you’ve been through a lot in the past... I know it’s hard to open up to somebody, but please understand that you aren’t alone in this world. There are a lot of people who could help you — maybe not get rid of your pain completely, but ease it up at least a little bit. It’s up to you of course, but you are always free to share your pain with me. I’ll help you, lend you an ear and maybe give you some friendly advices...”

To which Renée started breaking down in Fawn’s arms, sobbing on her chest and holding her tightly like she was crying for the first time. The latter obviously comforted her, and they bonded as close as sisters from that point. She also apologized from her and other people repeatedly because she’s been really awful to a lot of people too. Most of them chose to forgive her while some don’t. Also, Fawn was the first one to help her control her Unique Magic when she discovered it for the first time.

In her second year (current year), she’s a lot more open, can show kindness but often gets a bit shy when meeting with strangers. She often walks around with a smile and chats with others even if she’s not the one to start a conversation for the most of the time. She helps everyone around her when they need it, but sometimes ends up overworking herself and thinks she’ll be worthless if she doesn’t do her tasks. She even keeps the misbehaving students in check with her hair.

[jack-of-all-trades-21]

My brain came up with a very specific thing for Chishiya (which, beware, is my interpretation of his character), that kind of reminds me of something I've written before but this takes a very different route and also has a different format:

So my thought initiates from the idea that Chishiya definitely can be or become emotional, even if we might have not seen him much like it (or at all).

Since we share the same mbti I am kind off basing my things off of that, but it is also extremely humane to show bursts of emotions.

In short, he can for sure become frustrated when the moment calls for it.

When this happens, Chishiya might think that the universe is pulling his decisions and not him, like it is some sort of role he has to play because it fits the scene.

I think as an intj we are often watchers; Chishiya enjoys watching (much like we see him do during games in the show) and hopes not having to interfere with everyone's true nature. This is simply the most interesting and entertaining thing for him. So when he loses his temper or feels tears well up in his eyes he still feels like he is watching, whilst his body is driven by thing he "can't" control.

So I'm imagining a situation like the following: Chishiya is put into a spades game, and a difficult one at that. Normally he goes into games open-minded, though for this one he did not mentally prepare. Maybe it is due to his energy levels of that day or just his particular wish to do a diamonds or hearts game, but he really was not looking forward to an extreme physical challenge.

Additionally, and this is more for fun in my head, he is wearing his favorite white vest. This because he had a feeling beforehand it was not going to be an exhausting night, yet here he was proven wrong. He does not even acknowledge that this was a feeling; maybe too stubborn to admit that he was using his heart and not his head for once.

Then, it rips. His crisp hoodie is sure to not make it out this game alive. Normally he would stay pretty composed under things like these; his clothes are replaceable and it's not anything he could help anyway. Though today Chishiya feels a lot, mostly frustration and disappointment.

The sudden surprise and adrenaline that came with this game make him lose his composure. As much as he should be happy/satisfied to make it out alive, he is overwhelmed with negative feelings.

This only really happens when he is aware he can feel this way. For example when no other people from the beach joined the game. His surroundings allow his behavior; there were no other members of the beach in the game with for who he had to uphold himself.

And so the rip in his favorite jacket starts to resemble the crack in his normally perfect composure.

If we want to push it even further, we could introduce interaction with someone in the game with him.

With no clue on how they made it even out alive like him (their physique was not promising for spades games), there is someone by his side that is all too eager to aid him.

Their kindness and sociability almost trigger him more. Though he decides to play along. First, because they claim that they can fix his jacket. And second, because Chishiya just loves to see things play out.

He finds himself inside a makeshift atelier (it's just a room inside a rundown building but filled with all kinds of paintings and sculptures). The artist themself scurries across the room to a desk with coils of thread and such.

Now about Chishiya's scene partner: they didn't seem like the type that wanted to be defined or put inside a box. Though in the psychoanalyzing thoughts of Chishiya, he took a guess that they're numbing the pain and shock of the borderlands with their arts. After all, some attempt to deal with things you cant control by pretending to have control.

This way of living can actually anger Chishiya more than you'd initially think. I think this is due to a weird form of jealousy. He thinks he is not able to be as empathizing with anyone like them, let alone a stranger. However, he also believes it is in his nature to be this way (not realizing he can choose his behavior). He also knows that the kind stranger is dealing with things wrongly. Escapism in the borderlands is the dumbest coping mechanism he has seen anyone portray (probably from his realism standpoint). He could think you're wasting your time on materialistic and meaningless junk, whilst there are so many better things worthwhile (training, gathering food, finding a way out of the borderlands, resting,..). And the fact that you are a kind person makes it even harder for him. I am kind of reminded of Arisu here, also too kind for his own good if you get what I mean. Chishiya is at that moment so fed up with the idea that people like him easily can manipulate people like them.

Now how I see him out all of the things he is feeling can be through two ways. He either bottles up everything, can't sleep for a while due to all kinds of thoughts in his head he can't place, and remains like that until he can find logical reasons as to why certain things happened. Or, he snaps at the person he met, desperate to make them realize that the world they're in is real (or that it at least should be treated that way).

Chishiya assumes he's helping you out that way (like it's the thing he should be doing). Though how he then returns this favor is really up to how dirty-minded you view Chishiya.

(What better way to give someone a wakeup call of how real the world is by sharing physical intimacy?)

[x-soapbox-x]

Sigh. Once again random posting about an anime that I binged on my day off but. I just want to talk about it!!! This is about Kaguya-sama Love is War. Anyways.

Aside from how much the humor of this show really got to me when the slapstick-esque humor typical in anime isn’t usually my favorite, and how the romance itself is so!! Sweet!! Like it’s obvious from the beginning that they’re perfect for each other just by the fact that they’re playing these mind games with each other knowing the other is also playing, and it’s so much fun watching these two characters have insane mental chess games about following each other on social media and misunderstand each other while also being the only other person that really gets each other. The drama and tension doesn’t come from wondering if one will succeed in winning the others heart bc from the beginning you know they’re already head over heels for each other. The drama all comes from dramatic irony and the narrator himself is in one the joke with the audience and it’s GREAT. But I just want to talk about two specific really small moments I really loved.

The first one is when our lady lead, Kaguya, paints her nails. She worries all day about it-will he like them? Does it go against her identity to cave to girly things just for this stupid boy? She wants him specifically to notice that she painted her nails. It’s such a big deal to her. And of course, because we are privy to both of their internal monologues we know that he notices right away and spends the whole time she’s wishing he’d say something, wondering if it would make him a creep to say something, calculating the likelihood she’d accept a compliment, wondering if it’s a big deal. And at the end of the day he says nothing and she’s walking home staring at her hands disappointed, just a tiny heart break. But then he rides up next to her on his bike and points at her and yells. “Your Nails!”. He doesn’t even compliment them. He rides off before he can get the whole compliment out. But it shows he noticed, and then she’s floating around on cloud nine. It’s so cute and it just feels so…true. Like that’s what it’s like to have a crush for the first time-all this fragile hope, all this heavy anxiety. I love what it says for these specific characters! Like he’s so attentive to her and puts so much work into pretending that he’s not but it becomes so important that he lets her know that he thinks she’s pretty in all these little changeable ways and it’s pretty much the first time in the series that either one of them attempts to be earnest in their interactions instead of straight up doing psychological warfare.

The second little moment I really like is when Miyuki, our fella, has stepped down from being the student class president and as a result has gotten enough rest for multiple nights for the first time in the show, and it changes him. Like physically, he’s suddenly much more youthful looking and approachable and handsome. Everyone is into the well rested former president- except Kaguya. She LOVED his tired eyes, his exhausted and kind of mean glare. He gets all this confidence from being more handsome now and attempts to flirt and it’s completely ineffective. She was so attracted to his ‘death glare’ partly bc of the actual appearance, but also bc it represented his dedication and his work ethic. And then she has this spiral bc she’s not as attracted to him (most people who were young girls attracted to boys might recognize this exact spiral in their history if the object of their affections ever got a haircut) and she wonders if this means she doesn’t actually love him the way she thought. Luckily it’s resolved pretty quickly, but what I loved about this was that her favorite thing about the way he looked was a physical aspect that manifested bc of something intrinsic to who he is as a person, and it was a thing a lot of people actively thought made him look worse. I might be biased bc I also like tired looking eyes on a person (and kind of sport them as well-I am writing this at 2am). But this just seemed so sweet and loving and once again indicates just how much they pay attention to each other.

I guess what I love about this show is that it’s the slowest burn to ever slow burn but they use all that space to explore the hundred little ways to notice and care for another. Love is stored in the attention to detail!! I love how they agonize over every little thing!! I love how much courage it takes them to get over that, I love the hypervigilance of self. I can’t wait to see where it goes next, now that I’ve gotten to the end of season 3 and OOF what an end!!!!

Also it’s just very funny but maybe we can discuss using comedy as a bait and switch for earnestness in some other post. ❤️

[eric-the-bmo]

Hello I saw your tag PLEASE tell me about Annabelle Von Gears she seems right up my alley

OUGIYGH OH BOY LET ME RAMBLE ABOUT MY OC, THIS IS PROBABLY GOING TO BE STRUCTURED HORRIBLY LMAO—

So! Annabelle von Gears is my character for an upcoming homebrew campaign my friend's been wanting to run for about a year; She's put so much work into it, it's fascinating! (So sorry if u weren't expecting ttrpg stuff, but the floodgates have opened, and as a man with a special interest in ttrpgs I'm not going to shut up now—)

In very simple terms, Annabelle is a porcelain warforged/robotic wizard (bladesinger, specifically) who grew tired of her life and runs off to go adventuring. I adore her and this WILL be an infodump under the readmore!!!

[Art by @teefs_art on twitter!]

Augh okay I have no idea if I'll be able to get everything down, especially her thoughts on her family and herself, but here we go-

In terms of personality, I've been keeping it a bit vague; I'd like to have some room to build upon it when we finally play, and I've found it's easier to go off a general vibe.

So: Annabelle, at the start, is really just trying to do her job as a secretary and is very bored over the whole thing. While disruptions in the day can annoy her, she secretly delights in a few of them, because hey- that's another break in monotony, baby! After discovering free will later on, she's a lot more impulsive and upbeat, but still attempts to maintain her air of formality and fanciness. She most likely has a very strong sense of what's considered "fair." Due to Annabelle's upbringing, she'll probably be a bit rude and insensitive to others and their plights at times- and despite her sarcasm, she seems unable to detect it in others?

I definitely need to think more about how to include some knightly traits for her, and yknow, the whole thing of self vs duty, but... eh, yknow. Just vibes so far ☆

Anyway, the fact she's not literally built for a life of adventuring does nothing to dissuade her, btw; she'd rather do this than go back to a boring job.

Fun(?) facts:

Annabelle was based off the idea of "hey, what if a porcelain robot got hurt a lot and had to be fixed up with gold? Wouldn't that be cool or what"

Annabelle has programmed codes! Some of them include not being able to enter certain parts of the Von Gears manor, and being physically unable to harm her father figure (She can certainly try, but it's extremely difficult to break through those instructions)

She can sleep standing up, and yes, this probably will unnerve her party members very much ☆ (She can also stand completely still! More than once she's startled a foreign diplomat by blending in with the various statues and automatons in the manor, and so she's not allowed to go into those rooms anymore lmao)

Annabelle would really like collecting vinyls <3

She has the emblem of her home kingdom painted on her shoulder blades/upper back (it's an eagle with its wings outstretched!)

She can remove her face plate, and getting fixed by an artificer or mechanic is a bit uncomfortable :-/ It's like going to the dentist.

Annabelle is supposed to have a German accent- but I'm unable to do one. 😔

Her favorite term of endearment is to call someone "butterfly"; but so far she exclusively refers to only her sister with it.

She's unable to cry; she's not built with tear ducts! :-(

She's probably got a list full of silly little things to do while adventuring- like sneak into a building, or take part in a bar fight.

Taking heat damage is flavored as such: Her porcelain coverings are actually pretty heat-resistant! However, her insides aren't. It almost acts like an oven... (good luck venturing the kingdom of Helosh, love! ouch)

I'm absolutely going to find out how she can stim with her magic. No one can stop me /lh

And now for her general story: (note: I'm only putting in the most basic information for this. There's so much worldbuilding, but I sadly don't have time to ramble about all that. Again, sorry if this is incoherent, augh)

On the continent of Mysterra, most warforged reside in the country of Tectonica, which is ruled by Warrick von Gears (I forget his exact official title), a warforged who's been around for a very long time- definitely more than 100 years.

Following Mysterra's calendar, in 1835 Warrick decided he wanted a family with his wife Eleanor (also a warforged), and on the 19th of the Month of Talis, he commissioned the construction of Aria as his daughter– Annabelle was then added as a sudden addition. It took a year to complete the both of them, at which point artificial souls were placed inside their chests, and they were taken home to Tectonica's capital of Skysummit.

Despite being awoken at the same time, Annabelle is considered the more mature out of the two- mentally being in her 20s, with Aria being around 12- and primarily functions as Warrick's secretary. She arranged meetings, schedules, etc, and traveled along with him to diplomatic meetings to the capitals of other countries- along the way she picked up how to speak Gnomish and Draconic, as Windberg and Balaur do frequent dealings with Tectonica.

But eventually, she got bored with... well, just about all of it. It all began to seem monotonous, with only traveling for meetings, chess games with Warrick, and the shenanigans of Aria to break it all up. (She cares very much for her sister; it's almost the energy of "If this one favorite coworker wasn't here I would've quit a Long Time Ago" /hj). She wasn't really allowed to leave the estate without permission- and the thought to do so anyway had never occurred to her- so she had to find a few ways to avoid completely losing it.

Despite the fact she was built with a variety of coded spells to ensure self-defense, Annabelle began to study the variety of spellbooks and fiction in the Von Gear estate to stave off her boredom and restlessness- as well as daydreaming, becoming a lover of gossip, practicing swordfighting with some decorative blades hanging up on the wall, etc; all while wondering if something was wrong with her. Because she was built for this job, so surely she shouldn't be dissatisfied, right? [And what's with that strange tugging in her chest sometimes..?] But nothing ever seemed wrong when the mechanics showed up for yearly checks, so she didn't really ever bring it up in conversation to Warrick.

[While she loves the other Von Gears, her discontent with her current life makes her feels separate from them. Combined with her job as a secretary, she tries to be formal towards them and keep a distance– but she makes a few exceptions. She has fun with Aria, and despite her insistence she's really not part of the family, she does participate in family game night, and has accidentally called Warrick "dad" more than once. Anyway...]

And so, in the year of 1842, Annabelle von Gears is still the secretary of Tectonica's ruler— that is, until a famed Artificer is late for his scheduled meeting with Warrick. This catapults the events of the campaign, as well as Annabelle meeting her future party— an artificer searching for her missing father, a barbarian seeking revenge for the destruction of her town, a ranger with the last known dragon egg, and a paladin trying to prevent his kingdom from being destroyed by a volcano.

She’ll be sent by Warrick to join them for a quest, much to her surprise, and will discover that adventuring is just what she needs in her life. She runs off to join them, promising her sister she'll write to her.

Being an impulsive woman once she's discovered she has free will, Annabelle's bound to get into trouble and gain all sorts of scars- and probably a lot of them, since she literally isn't built for adventuring– as well as probably gaining... odd visions? And passing knowledges of skills previously unbeknownst to her? Strange...

While adventuring, Annabelle will occasionally feel guilt for leaving her job and family behind.

And oh, the Reveal! During her journey, Annabelle von Gears will eventually discover the truth that her soul isn't artificial like she was told: She had been a flesh-and-blood person whose soul had been ripped out (either from a living body or the afterlife) and rewired, just like every other warforged.... Which would explain all the odd memories and possibly even her want for adventure- she had been a person before. And surely Warrick must've known this whole time, right? (cue, hopefully, a climactic daughter-father fight)

(There's also an idea the DM and I have where Annabelle encounters the "resurrected" body of who she used to be, possibly leading to the body attempting to kill her so it can get its soul back. We're going to have so much fun with the horror elements)

Anyway augh this was A Lot, thank you for showing interest and allowing me to Ramble ;-;✌️🫶💕

[hufflepuffinstorybrooke]

If You’re Lucky, Love Leaves Scars

Summary: In Misthaven, the people know that their rulers are soulmates, bound by the fact that they share their emotions and also physical pain. Follow Crown Princess Emma as she discovers that she has a soulmate of her own and her path to meeting her true love.

Rating: Rated Teen for a small instance of child abuse. You don't technically see it happen, but you do see the results from the soulmate's POV. Feel free to message me with any questions if you need more info before reading.

Notes: The notes might be a bit long, so bear with me: 1) I'd like to thank the runners of the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer for letting me participate in this year's event! 2) I would like to thank @kmomof4​ for my beautiful artwork! 3) Thanks also goes to @kazoosandfannypacks​, my wonderful beta. 4) A last thank you to my friends Caroline, who acted as a second beta (a gamma?) and cheerleader for me during the writing process. 

This is my first attempt at fanfic, so please be nice. More notes at the end. Enjoy!

Here is the link for AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48275764

Everyone in the realm knows the stories of soulmates. Not everyone has them, but when you do, what happens to them happens to you as well. When they bleed, so do you. And once together, soulmates feel what the other feels emotionally, as well. Only the truest of soulmates feel each others’ emotions before ever meeting.

Crown Princess Emma of Misthaven was born of True Love: the truest of soulmates, Queen Snow White and King David. The story of their love is legendary, bringing the kingdom out of the darkness of the Evil Queen and into their benevolent reign. Emma knew her parents’ story before she knew anything else. She would tell all the people she met that she was born of True Love, the daughter of brave King David and fearless Queen Snow. She loved the life that, in her mind, was given to her by that same True Love.

The love only grew when Emma was five, and her little sister Ruth was born. Emma adored being a big sister. Everyone throughout the kingdom rejoiced, though there were those who worried that another girl had been born instead of a son to rule. Snow only ascended to the throne because of the lack of a direct male heir and her defeat of the Evil Queen. Snow and David had no such concerns about who would reign after them. They saw the light of leadership in Emma, especially after she started her lessons.

While, in other kingdoms, Emma’s peers learned to dance and paint, Emma learned how to wield a sword, strategize a battle, and ride astride a horse. She did her own dancing with her father, but she considered it fun, not lessons.

As with anyone, Emma had her troubles; she got caught sneaking sweets before dinner, sometimes she would be in a foul mood for no apparent reason, and she had the occasional nightmare. One night, however, six-year-old Emma woke with a terrible fright and was inconsolable. Ruby, her godmother who looked after her at night, ran to fetch the king and queen. 

David was first into the room, as Emma almost always asked for him. This time, Emma threw herself, not at David, but at Snow.

“I felt as though you were gone! As if I no longer had a mother.” 

Snow held her daughter close. It was the same feeling she had when she lost her own mother. 

Snow and Emma held each other, David watching his girls fondly. Never did it occur to him that this same thing happened to him the day Snow’s mother, Queen Eva, died.

The whole family wrote the night off as a bad dream, but Emma grew closer to her mother. Emma was so much like her father that she tended to spend any free time with him, whether in the stables or the study. They rode, strategized, and dueled. After that night, Emma seemed to split her time more evenly between her parents. She would sit with Snow and listen to Snow’s more elegant form of strategy: diplomacy. David was a fair hand at this as well, but Snow was raised for it. She solved problems with grace and ease, be them large between nations or small between subjects. Emma learned the importance of both negotiations and battle in lessons, but she did not understand it truly until she saw her mother in action. This time bonded the pair, and all because of a dream.

Once her brother Leopold was born, most of the kingdoms expected him to be raised as the heir to the throne. Emma was only eight at the time, but she knew she wanted to rule and serve Misthaven as their Queen. She had seen the good that comes from being queen and wanted to help her people the way her mother did. Snow and David, knowing Emma was wise beyond her years, sat her down and asked what she wanted. She told mother and father, “I want to be the Queen of Misthaven.”

There was no more need for discussion after that. Snow sent out a proclamation that, despite the birth of a male heir, Emma would remain the crown princess. Ruth and Leo would both receive the same education as Emma, but as second and third in line to the throne.

----

At the age of ten, it is very rare to know if you have a soulmate. Children, especially children as tough as Emma, find themselves having any number of bumps and bruises. Emma had no idea that she had a True Love, much like her parents had each other. 

As the next year of her life passed, Emma noticed some oddities. No matter how sedentary her day was, her feet always ached something fierce at the end of the night. She would be sitting in the study reading and feel as though she stubbed her toe. Her body sometimes ached with manual labor that it had never truly known. She also continued to feel the ache of her mother’s absence, even, on some occasions, in her mother’s presence.

But then, another heartache woke her from a peaceful dream. This time, she ran to her parents’ room. Her mother sat at the vanity, but her father was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Papa?” Emma said through her tears. Her mother tried to talk to her, but all Emma wanted at that moment was her father. Her heart was telling her that he left them. Snow held her daughter as she wept, having no other way to console her without David.

When David entered the chamber, Emma ran into his arms. “I thought you left. I awoke and my heart was just convinced you left us forever.”

David picked Emma up and walked her over to his armchair by the fire. His little girl was growing up much too fast, but King David was a strong man who would do anything to help Emma know he was there. “Emma, my darling princess, you know I would never leave this family. I love you all too much to ever leave you.”

“Promise?”

“Always. I will never leave you, my duckling.”

As father and daughter had their moment, Snow went to Ruby, who had followed Emma, and asked for hot chocolate with cinnamon to be brought up to the suite. 

As the family drank their special treat, David told his tale of a shepherd turned prince who fell in love with a princess turned bandit. Snow watched David, engrossed in his story, and Emma, slowly leeching comfort from her favorite parts. She knew how her poor daughter was feeling. The same thing had happened to her one night, only realizing years later that she was feeling David’s abandonment of his father leaving. Snow had an inkling of what was happening to her daughter. Part of her was thrilled that Emma would have a True Love of her own, but another part was sad. That part ached for the poor child who had already lost their mother, and was now abandoned by their father. She just hoped they were not alone.

Emma retreated in on herself for a week or so, staying with one parent or another whenever possible, and watching over her siblings when it wasn’t. Slowly, she came back to herself, but the feeling of abandonment still lingered, no matter how many times her father told her that she would be stuck with him for a good long while.

The Oddities, as Emma called her strange pains, got worse. The feeling of manual labor got worse, to the point where she would simply collapse into bed at night. For a few days, Emma was so nauseous she could only keep broth down. Granny, who ran the kitchens, made sure she had plenty and also kept her hydrated. Her parents worried, but the feeling passed in two days.

The final proof came two weeks after the abandonment started while Emma was dueling with her father. They used dulled blades and never to harm, always to disarm. Emma was moving in, gracefully making her father think he had the upper hand—when, all of the sudden, the princess collapsed, screaming in pain. 

David stood horrified for a split second before racing to his daughter’s aide. She had fallen to her knees, head on the ground. When David went to rub her back, she screamed as though he hit her. People began to surround the training ring, seeing what the commotion was about. Princess Emma kept screaming out in short bursts, jerking forward with every scream. 

David lifted her shoulders, getting Emma to put her arms around his neck as he carried her into the palace. They went into Snow’s study, knowing she was not using it at that time. Emma had felt at least twenty pains, each stinging more than the last.

A servant had gone to get the queen as soon as Emma collapsed. When Snow finally found them in the study, she was absolutely horrified. There sat her husband, silently crying as he held their little girl. Snow could only see Emma’s back, her favorite yellow dress streaked with blood.

“She just fell and started screaming,” David nearly whimpered to his wife, his voice hoarse through his tears.

Emma turned as much as she was able, looking for her mother. “Mama,” she whispered, voice weaker than David’s. Snow rushed to their side taking Emma’s hand in her own. “Why is this happening, Mama? What did I do…”

Snow cut her off, “Listen to me, my duckling. This is not your fault. We will find out what is happening, and we will put an end to it. We will do everything in our power to make sure this never happens again.”

-----

Snow and David rarely fought. They could usually discuss their disagreements until a compromise was reached. This seemed to be the only time in Emma’s memory when her parents were very obviously at odds. But every time Emma walked into a room the arguments went silent, remaining civil but frustrated with each other. They would not let her know what was going on.

Emma was worried. Ever since her mysterious injuries a week ago, everyone in the castle was on edge. People would whisper where they thought she couldn’t hear and stare where they thought she couldn’t see. Her parents’ argument started then as well, and Emma had come to the conclusion that the fight was about her. 

Exactly ten days after her injuries, Emma was walking past her mother’s study and heard her parents’ shouting. Emma was done with secrets, so she decided to listen at the door.

“What do you want me to do, David? Leave some child in this condition. All indications point to the fact that they were whipped. If Emma’s loss and abandonment were right, this child has already lost their mother and been abandoned by their father. They could be all alone. And you want me to do nothing!?”

“I never said I didn’t want anything done, I just don’t think enacting military power is the way to go here.”

“And I’m not saying have our armies storm our subjects’ homes! I just want to make it publically known that we will not condone the abusive treatment of others!”

Emma had heard enough. She opened the doors and her parents’ quieted down at once. “I would like to be brought into this conversation.” Emma kept her voice calm and collected, while radiating as much authority as an eight year old can over their parents.

David spoke first. “That just isn’t a good idea, Duckling–”

“If this argument that has been going on for almost a fortnight has to do with what happened to me, then I have every right to be involved in how this is decided.”

“I know you think that, but you are still so young–”

“If I am old enough to learn to rule a kingdom, shouldn’t I be old enough to have input on how we treat the abuse of my soulmate?” 

Her father wore a look of shock, but it was her mother’s face she was drawn to. Snow looked sad, But also proud. Her daughter was going to make a wonderful queen. 

“I figured it out after he took the beating. The only power that could do that is soulmates. I don’t want him to suffer, so if we have it in our power to do something about it, then we need to help. And not just my soulmate, but others who may be in the same position. Where do we stand on ideas?” 

Emma was leading negotiations just the way her mother taught her, which made David realize it was pointless to try to argue.

“I would like to place extra soldiers in towns and villages to do outreach. Let the people know that if they need help, the crown will be there for them.” Snow restated her intentions from the beginning of their argument.

David was on the verge of interrupting, but Emma held up a hand, and he held his tongue. 

“I also want to fund orphanages all throughout the kingdom so that children without families can be provided for.” This had been a project Snow had wanted to start for a while. The incident with Emma’s soulmate just made it seem more urgent.

Emma thought for a moment, and then turned to her father and nodded, giving him his chance.

“Putting more soldiers in villages will do nothing but scare people. I know we do our best to prove to our people that we are not Regina, but the Black Knights caused too much damage to people and land for soldiers to be seen in a good light so soon after their reign of terror. I don’t oppose the orphanages nearly as much, but how are we to make sure that the children are in any better hands there than on the streets?” This was the circular argument that Snow and David had been trapped in for days.

“And what of our ports?”

Snow looked at her daughter with a furrowed brow. “Why do you think anything needs to be done at our ports?”

“Remember several days ago, when I couldn’t leave my room because of nausea? I was dizzy and felt like the world was rocking. I think he might have been at sea during the storm that rolled in a few days later.” 

Both David and Snow looked at their daughter in awe. Her lessons were clearly paying off. She would make a great ruler one day.

Before either of her parents responded, Emma came to her own solution. “We should place extra soldiers and stricter guidelines on ships that come to port. Allow search and questioning of the crew, but never seizure of the cargo, unless that ‘cargo’ includes people, then they are freed.” She looked to her parents, who still looked surprised, but nodded their agreement. “The orphanages are also a good idea, but we should place guidelines on the orphanages allowing for inspections. I think we should make a committee of advisors with a special interest in the wellbeing of children. Perhaps led by Granny or Geppetto.”

Snow was the first to react, getting up to hug her daughter. “That is an amazing idea, Emma. I am so proud of you.”

David embraced his girls. His duckling was growing up, and as proud as it made him, he also worried about how much longer she would need her doting father. “You make me proud everyday Emma, but this might be a new record.”

-----

Ten years passed. Emma’s plan for the children of the kingdom has flourished. The children of the orphanages are well-provided for, educated in the orphanages and then going on to get apprenticeships in their towns. The ports have shut down any slave trade movement through Misthaven and ensured the safety of crews.

As for Emma, she has grown into an accomplished, beautiful, and intelligent woman. Many a nobleman have come to try to court her, but Emma shows no interest in them, preferring to focus on the needs of her people. Emma does outreach programs throughout the kingdom, going from village to village and meeting with her people. If there are problems to fix or disputes to be resolved, Emma helps in the few days she is there. She also spends time in the orphanages, meeting with the children and making sure that they are taken care of.

Of course, she now spends much of her time at the palace as well. She sits by her mother’s side, assisting with the Queen’s duties. On this particular morning, they meet with leading members of the military to receive reports of the ongoings in their peaceful kingdom. And tomorrow night there will be a ball to celebrate promotions throughout the military.

Currently speaking is Captain Liam Jones. He's a handsome man, tall with wavy brown hair and nice blue eyes. Tonight, he'll be promoted from captain to rear admiral. He is young for the position, just shy of thirty, but during his captaincy aboard the kingdom’s flag ship he has justly upheld their laws and helped spearhead some of the changes made to Emma’s plans for the ports.

If the story she'd heard was correct, Captain Jones was a new member of their navy when the child protection laws were first set in place. He and a few other top students of the Naval Academy were assigned to the ports some days for hands-on training. One of the ships that pulled into port was one his father was supposedly working on. When the ship came to port, the now Captain—then Ensign—Jones found out that his father had abandoned the crew, selling his much younger brother into service to the captain. From the stories Emma heard, Jones was quite a sight to behold that day. Initially he was justly in a rage, but he pulled himself together enough to cite the new rules of the kingdom. In accordance with the new rules of port, ships with slaves working on them, there was a fine heavier than most ships could ever pay, or they could release the slaves. As the story goes, the younger Jones became a cabin boy until he was of the age to join the navy himself. He will be promoted tonight to captain, quickly working his way through the ranks.

As the current Captain Jones finishes speaking to her mother, he moves back to the line of men reporting. As her mother dismisses the men, Emma stands and walks over to Captain Jones.

“Captain Jones, a quick word, if you will.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and he kneels in front of her. “Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

“Rise, Captain Jones.” The captain comes to his feet, looking worried. “There is no need for concern. I just wondered if your brother would be attending tomorrow’s ceremony.”

“He will, Your Royal Highness.” There's still a fretful edge to the captain’s voice.

“I would like to speak to the both of you then, if you don’t mind.” Emma is curious to hear the accounts of these two men. She often hears about the benefits of the orphanages, but would like to know more about the naval aspect of her project. These brothers would be useful, having been on both sides of the situation.

“If I may be so bold as to inquire what this will be in reference to?” Jones seems almost suspicious of his princess.

“It will just be some shop talk, I am afraid. I have heard your story and I would like to know more about it, especially in reference to the safety measures I helped put into place.”

Captain Jones looks offended at Emma’s interest. He glances around, seeing that the queen and king are waiting for their daughter at the royal entrance. In a low voice he hisses, “Listen, princess, your parents have been very good to my brother and me through some very difficult times in our lives. For that, I will be forever grateful. You, however, sit here in the castle and reap the benefits of their thoughts and actions. Indeed, you just called their plan yours. My brother has been through enough hardships to fill several lifetimes, and I will not add being the princess’s storymaker to the list.” Jones gives a harsh nod of his head and storms from the room.

Emma is astonished. Not only has no one ever spoken to her like that, but Emma has an excellent popularity rate throughout the kingdom. She tours once a year, meeting with those in need and doing her best to make sure that every citizen of their kingdom is provided for.

But Emma’s shock turns to anger quickly. Just who does this Jones think he is? She'd worked hard to do her best for the kingdom and he has the gall to act as though she just sat here being frivolous. She had worked hard through much of her youth to make this kingdom a safe haven for her people. And he just comes in here acting like she has no idea of the troubles of others.

Emma storms past her parents, who are trying to ascertain the meaning of her conversation with Jones. She has much she needs to do to prepare for tonight, setting a new plan in place.

-----

Emma’s wardrobe has always been more modest than those of her peers. She rarely even tried to keep up, anyways, preferring to work on ways to help her people. But there is another reason. 

Emma’s soulmate experience had been quickly quieted throughout the castle. As most everyone who saw the incident in the training ring were soldiers of the kingdom, the king had to only ask for them to keep silent. The servants that helped tend to Emma afterward were the most devoted in the castle, too loyal to the family and charmed by the princess herself to spread the secret. The fashion now is to wear dresses with one's shoulders exposed, the neckline cutting almost straight across. The gowns are beautiful, but they would expose Emma’s scars on her upper back from the beating that was given to someone else. And Emma never wanted anyone to know.

Until now.

Emma has decided to let the kingdom know about her motivations behind her actions over the past ten years. In the morning a personal statement of hers will be issued through the kingdom. Emma dictates it to Ruth this afternoon (Ruth’s handwriting is better than Emma’s anyway) while Emma is fitted for her new dress for the ball. Johanna, the palace seamstress, is a miracle worker to have modified the dress made in a little over eight hours, but she too has always been fond of Emma.

The new dress is a simple, red, long sleeve ball gown. The only embellishments are some gems around the neckline. Her hair is up in an elegant twist with a delicate crown placed atop her head. The back shows a bit of her upper back and her scars.

Emma meets her family on the landing above the throne room. There will be an hour of ceremony before dinner and then they will move through to the ballroom for socialization and dancing afterwards.

Leo is the first to see Emma coming down the hall. His mouth drops. Never has he seen Emma looking so much like a real princess. (He has just turned twelve, meaning he now has to come to some of these royal events.) “Wow Em,” is all he can say.

Snow, David, and Ruth turn to see Emma. Ruth beams, having seen the dress earlier while she was dictating Emma’s statement. Snow knew Emma planned on changing her dress, as well as the statement she wrote and the brief words she wants to say to the men tonight. Snow smiles at her eldest, holding back the bittersweetness of watching your child become an adult.

David is speechless. He did not know about the changes to the dress. His little girl stands before him, no longer the girl who told stories of True Love to everyone she met. Now, walking towards him is a woman, elegant and beautiful. “You are beautiful, my duckling.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Before anything else can be said, Leroy begins to introduce the royal family into the function. 

Leo and Ruth descend the staircase together. Emma, as the crown princess, follows alone, then comes the king and queen. The hall is full of military men, standing to attention for their monarchs in two lines on either side of the aisle from the stairs to the dais with the thrones. The three divisions of the military—Army, Navy, and Royal Guard—are sorted by rank instead of by branch of service. This is another of Emma’s ideas from a few years back, to promote unity between the branches, as to not show favoritism to any one branch in particular. The mens’ families are also invited, as are any visiting dignitaries, and the courtiers of Misthaven.

As the royal family proceeds to the dais, the servicemen stay at attention and the rest of the guests bow and curtsy as their hosts pass. As soon as heads rise behind the family, some eyes are caught on the silvery scars on the princess’ shoulders. Some of the guests cannot help but to start whispering their own version of how the crown princess of Misthaven got what appear to be whip marks on her back.

Each family member stands in front of their throne as they wait for the king and queen to make it to the dais. Leo and Ruth have the simplest, hardly more embellished than cushioned armchairs, to their mother’s left. Snow’s throne is in the center of the dais and is the most majestic of the set, though still modest by some royal standards. David sits to her right, as he is her right hand in all that they do, and although they rule as equals, David’s throne is a touch less grand than his wife’s. Emma’s is the last of the line, though the median in design. While her parents’ seats have silver and gold inlays and their cushions are of splendid fabrics, the wooden base to Emma’s has only a few details that differentiate it from her siblings. And the cushions are much closer to theirs as well, with a bit of golden thread embroidery to distinguish it from Ruth’s and Leo’s.

As they take their place, Snow steps forward to address the partygoers. “Welcome honored guests. Tonight we celebrate our military and, in particular, the men being promoted tonight. My daughter, Crown Princess Emma, would like to share some words.” Snow sits, shortly followed by David, Ruth, and Leo. Emma stays standing and addresses the crowd.

“As her majesty said, tonight we celebrate the men who protect Misthaven and keep us safe. My family and I hold these men in the highest regards, however, today was also an anniversary. It is ten years since the start of our initiative to make the children of Misthaven safer. The origin of this project has been speculated, but there has never been confirmation of our motivations. Was it my father’s humble start, my mother’s time on the run, or the birth of their children that put the idea in the mind of our gracious queen and king? Well, today the speculation can cease. I am here to set the issue to rest.

“As we all know, our two esteemed rulers share the truest of true love bonds. They are soulmates of the deepest nature, sharing feelings, both emotional and physical. A little over ten years ago, we received confirmation that I, too, have a soulmate. Although it should have been a joyous realization, it was dimmed in the cruel manner in which we found out. You see, my soulmate was whipped. And as we share our true love bond, I felt as he did that day.” 

The crowd murmurs in surprise at the princess’s revelation. Only the courtiers closest to the royal family, an extension of the family itself, had ever known what happened all those years ago.

“As you can see, I bear the marks from the horrendous encounter.” The princess turns, showing the marks that can be seen on her shoulders. After giving the crowd time to see her scars, Emma turns back to face the masses and continues, “I do not reveal this now to gain sympathy or praise. I have kept this to myself all these years, not out of shame, but out of devotion. My soulmate went through something awful, and I never wanted this to be the reason we were drawn together, the scars and shared pain. I wanted to find love without proof, not displaying our scars before everyone. Recent conversations have proven that not everyone understands my devotion though. Not only to my soulmate, but to the kingdom at large. The laws enacted a decade ago were my idea. I wanted to protect not only my true love but all the children of the realm. I obviously could not have done this without our gracious monarchs, but the solution evaded us until we came together as a group to combat the injustices that plagued the children. No solution is ever perfect, and we work to improve everyday. If you take nothing else from this story, please know that I share my parents' passion for improving the lives of our citizens. I cannot and will not sit back in my luxurious life and let our people suffer. I will strive to protect not only our children but all the citizens of the kingdom, including the military officers who are here tonight. So I will hand the ceremony back over to our benevolent queen, my mother Snow White.” 

Emma turns to her mother and curtsies, and Snow pulls her daughter into her arms before she can fully rise. “I am so proud of you, dear,” Snow whispers.

“Thank you, Mother,” Emma breathes back, releasing her mother to take her seat for the ceremony.

As the promotions are given, Emma thinks back to her speech, particularly the reaction of one rear admiral-to-be. The older Jones brother started the speech with the proper steady attentiveness that military men wear in formal situations. However, Emma had seen flashes of surprise and a return of the anger after she had shown her scars. His gaze had flickered between her and someone in the crowd of soldiers. It was not an encouraging sign, but Emma is not one to be deterred. She plans to speak to the newly promoted Rear Admiral Jones and see if she cannot find an amicable solution to their rift. The Jones men are rising fast through the naval ranks, which means that Emma will likely have to work with them for years to come. She does not want that to be a contentious relationship.

Emma is pulled from her thoughts as her mother promotes men to the rank of captain. The younger Jones brother, Killian, is called forward to receive his promotion, and Emma is stunned. Never before has she seen a man so… beautiful.

Killian Jones has dark hair, nearly black, cut short and styled back. His frame is long and lean, clearly honed from years at sea. But it is his eyes that catch Emma’ attention. They are the clearest blue she has ever seen. She remembers his brother’s eyes, and while the color is almost identical, something is different. The princess stares, trying to see what the difference is, but Killian Jones is already taking his place back in the masses. Throughout the rest of the ceremony, Emma strains to see Killian Jones again but is unable to through the crowd.

Dinner is slow. All Emma wants is to seek out the young captain, to speak to him. It is a feeling the princess has never felt, the need to seek someone out for no reason but desire.

After the feast, the crowd is shown into the ballroom by the staff. Once the throne room holds only the royal family, they bid Leo goodnight. (He will not attend a ball for a few years yet.) Leo is escorted upstairs by Granny, who says she is too old to attend a ball. But before Granny takes her leave, she hugs Emma, sharing her pride in the young woman she has become. As Granny is not one for displays of her affection, Emma is surprised by the old woman.

That hug from Granny is enough to knock Captain Jones from Emma’s mind until they enter the ballroom. The royal family is, once again, announced, and the king and queen open the ball with the first dance. When the music starts, Emma starts searching the gathered crowd for the newly minted captain. But before Emma can find the younger Jones, the older finds her. 

Rear Admiral Jones bows to the princess. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?”

Emma pauses for a moment, confused. However, she does know she needed to speak to this Jones as well, so she curtsies and accepts his hand. “Of course, Admiral Jones.”

They move to the dance floor and bow respectfully to each other. Neither of them speak as they start to dance, and Emma’s eyes start to scan the crowd again.

“Looking for my brother, Princess?” Rear Admiral Jones states, rather bluntly. His eyes, so similar in color to his brother, have a storm raging behind them.

“Why would you ever say that, Admiral?” Emma did not want to admit her curiosity to the older Jones brother, seeing as he already does not seem to like her.

“I find it curious that you knew of my brother’s story before meeting him, as you admitted yesterday. And then today, your timeline of your own true love story lines up conspicuously well with my brother’s unfortunate history. Why are you so fascinated with Killian?” The change in tone when he mentions her ‘true love’ indicates he does not believe a word she said.

The princess focuses all her attention on the admiral. “What do you mean by that? Your story is quite the legend in the town, and we are not as disconnected from our people as you seem to think we are. I had heard of you rescuing him from a ship not long after we passed the laws ensuring children’s safety. Just because it happened close together, I see no other links to my past and his. Furthermore, do you not believe that I sustained these scars through a soulmate bond? Why would I lie about such a rare and beautiful thing, and such a tragic experience on top of it?” Emma is proud of her ability to keep her voice level, though her agitation starts to peek through her tone towards the end of her inquiry.

“Is it not curious that soulmate bonds only appear within royalty? It seems to be a tactic to place them further above their people. As to how you got those scars, maybe you aren’t as perfect as you would have us commoners believe, or perhaps you had a strict governess. I don't really care how they happened. I care that you seem to be fixated on my brother. So, Princess, I ask again. Why Killian?”

“The stories of true love in royal couples spread because stories of royalty spread further than others, but I have seen true love in everyday life, and I am sorry that you have not. And I am sorry you do not believe my account of my life, but it did happen as I said. I still do not understand the connection to your brother, but as far as I am concerned, he is a good officer with an overprotective big brother. If you ask my younger siblings, they would say that is a curse, but I am sure it was seen as a blessing when you rescued him all those years ago. I will ask once more that you believe that I had no other ulterior motive to tell my story, other than to settle questions in the minds of our citizens who, like you, have their reservations about me as a ruler. I intend to do my best for this kingdom, and to do that, I need to have the belief of my people.”

The song ends and Emma steps away from the admiral, curtsying to leave, but, as Admiral Jones bows in return, he asks “You truly didn’t know that Killian was whipped about a month before I found him?”

Emma freezes on the dance floor and, as a new song starts up, she looks at Liam Jones. “A month?” That would mean…

“I could never get many details about the beating from Killian, but one of his crewmates told me a little about it. It happened a little more than a month before I found him, about three weeks before the child protection laws were in place. Your story may have happened around the same time.”

Standing in the middle of all the twirling couples, Emma and the admiral are in the way. She pulls him to the balcony as her head swims. Could it be…

“I just want to protect my brother. And I know you are right, I am overprotective. But after our father abandoned him, selling him to slavery, I just knew that I had to protect him. Even if it meant protecting him from the very royalty that saved him.”

“When?” Emma asks, starting to pace. She is now remembering a night long ago that had been burned into her memory. 

Admiral Jones looks confused. “I don’t understand, Your Highness.”

“When did your father leave?” Emma demands, putting more force in her tone than intended, but she needs to know. Is this why she cannot get the younger Jones out of her thoughts?

“He abandoned Killian two weeks before the beating.”

“And your mother? She died two years before that?”

“How could you possibly know…”

“Because I felt it. I woke one night with a terrible heartache and ran to my mother. I had the terrible feeling that she had died, and I needed to prove she was still there. That was my first time experiencing my soulmate’s emotions.” Emma cannot breathe. She moves to one of the benches near the railing of the balcony, letting the cool sea breeze calm her. Of all the ways to find her soulmate, she never imagined it would be during a fight with his brother.

In the shock of the moment, neither Admiral Jones nor the princess noticed someone joining them on the balcony. But as Princess Emma catches her breath, Admiral Jones turns to leave the princess to her thoughts and sees his brother standing by the doors in shock. He strides quickly to Killian, wanting to talk to him before the princess sees him.

Killian finds his voice before Liam reaches the doors. “Brother, what is going on out here?” It is quite the scene to walk into, his brother having a word with the crown princess of Misthaven, and that is not even the strangest part. From what Killian has overheard, Princess Emma felt it when their mother had died. That must mean she is the soulmate to either him or his brother. And Liam has never been whipped.

Emma looks up at the sound of Captain Jones’s voice. Their eyes lock and for a moment, Emma sees confusion in his sky blue eyes. She stands, watching his eyes for the illumination of clarity to shine through.

“Four years ago, did you cut your arm?” Killian asks, his right hand moving to his left forearm. Under his uniform there is a scar from an injury he could not remember sustaining. It was as if it appeared from nowhere.

“I was thrown from my horse as I rode through the woods. I cut my arm on a rock in the fall,” Emma whispers, almost timidly.

Liam stands, watching his brother realize what is happening. He knows he ought to leave, but he turns to the princess. Liam needs to see her reaction. The shyness in her voice throws him for a loop and he finally believes her. As his brother moves from the doorway, Liam Jones steps back into the ballroom, leaving Killian and the princess to talk.

Killian barely notices his brother leaving, but the sounds of the doors closing makes him snap back to reality a bit. He’s speaking to the crown princess and has not addressed her properly at all. He kneels before the princess, averting his eyes from the beauty that stands in front of him. “I apologize, Your Highness, for my bluntness earlier and the lack of proper address. You must understand the shock…”

Emma moves to stand right in front of the captain. “I do not need your apologies nor your formalities, Captain. Please stand.” As he does, the princess extends her hand. “I think, after all that has been revealed tonight, we should be properly introduced. I am Emma.”

Killian grasps Emma’s hand, keeping eye contact as he kisses it. “I am Captain Killian Jones, Your Highness.”

Emma smirks, “I thought I said we need no formalities. To you, I hope to always be Emma.”

Still in awe of what is happening, Killian flushes slightly at the thought of addressing the princess by her given name. “That may take some time to settle in, Princess. It feels awfully disrespectful to address royalty by their given name.”

Emma chuckles slightly, “I hope that you can come to think of me as more than just royalty.”

Killian scratches behind his ear, an old nervous habit. “I could never think of you as ‘just’ anything. It will be a journey, but one I am more than willing to embark upon.” 

For a moment, the princess and her captain stand on the balcony, looking into each other’s eyes, smiling at Killian’s sweet words and the thought of a future spent learning more about the other.

Killian takes a deep breath and says, “Would you care to dance, Emma?”

She responds with a smile that outshines all the stars. “With you, Killian, always.”

They walk back into the ballroom as they will do everything from now on: together.

Final Notes: So in my vision Emma's ballgown in the dress from the season 3 finale with a modified neckline so it is off the shoulders and would show the top of her scars. Also I do not like the ponytail look for Killian, so his hair is short and slicked back for the ceremony. I envisioned it like his hair at the wedding.

[iksidaorvali]

❛❛   visenya targaryen .  ❜❜   ― 🔥 ― a cry in the night as you watch your lover fall, sound echoed by the winged beast who shares your heart (no one else can know what you truly saw)... secret knowledge and a desire for revenge feeding a rage burning at your very core, flames threatening to consume you (being sent away was the only solution)... your uncle’s coronation drags you back into the too familiar heartache of home, peace of mind and body left back in lys (pain is your constant companion in westeros)...

BASICS.

full name : visenya alysanne targaryen celtigar

name meaning :

visenya : high valyrian | possibly derived from vezenka which means “solar”

alysanne : german | “noble”

targaryen : tba | “tba”

celtigar : tba | “tba”

nicknames : sena, vis, v

epithets : the dragon heart

titles : lady of dragonstone, lady of claw isle

gender / pronouns : cis woman / she/her

sexuality : pansexual

date of birth : fifth day of the fourth moon

age : six and twenty years

zodiac : aries

place of birth : dragonstone, the crownlands, westeros

accent : english

languages : common tongue, high valyrian

allegiance : house targaryen, house velaryon, house celtigar

religion : the old gods of valyria

APPEARANCE.

faceclaim : frida gustavsson

height : 5′7″

eye color : lilac

hair color : silver-gold

dominant hand : ambidextrous

glasses : n/a

MEDICAL.

mental : insomnia, adhd, depression

physical : some smaller scars from sword practice

PERSONALITY.

positive traits : steadfast, determined, captivating

negative traits : ruthless, brazen, sarcastic

hobbies : swordplay, dragon riding, painting, sketching, swimming

RELATIONSHIPS.

parents :

ruling lord ___ targaryen; father [ 55+ ]

ruling lady ___ targaryen, née rogare; mother [ 55 ]

siblings :

lord heir ___ targaryen; eldest brother [ 37 ]

lady ___ targaryen; eldest sister [ 34-36 ]

lord ___ targaryen; older brother [ 31-33 ] ** twin

lord ___ targaryen; older brother [ 31-33 ] ** twin

lady ___ targaryen; older brother [ 28-30 ]

lord baelor targaryen; younger twin brother [ 26 ] ** twin

lord vaella targaryen; younger sister [ 24 ]

extended family :

lord vaegon targaryen; late paternal uncle [ 46, deceased 6 years ]

ruling lord ___ targaryen; paternal uncle [ 49 ]

ruling lady ___ targaryen, née ___; aunt marriage [ 45-50 ]

queen rhaenyra velaryon, née targaryen; paternal aunt [ 49 ]

king daemon velaryon; uncle via marriage [ 51 ]

house celtigar of claw isle

former in-laws via jacaerys celtigar

house rogare of lys

via her mother

house targaryen of summerhall

via her paternal uncle

house velaryon of king's landing

via her paternal aunt's marriage

spouse : lord jacaerys celtigar; late husband [ 28, deceased 2 years ]

children : n/a

pets : 

nightsong [ dragon - think silverwing but mostly lavender ]

ADDITIONAL INFO.

quick facts :

visenya has been having dragon dreams with consistency from a very early age. the only ones who know of her ability are her mother and late husband.

more coming soon. i just wanna write.

biography :

doc here

feel free to ask me anything, as this is a work in progress.

CONNECTIONS.

late husband’s killer : their true target was visenya, so they may or may not be planning another attempt now that she’s returned to westeros. while i’m open to determining the reason for them wanting her dead together, i would like it to have something to do with her dragon dreams and/or connection to the crown. ➢ 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 

in-laws : i’d just love to see the celtigars around for some fun former family things. members she was closer to, maybe some who never liked her much. all the things. ➢ 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 (𝟎/𝟕)

childhood best friends : just two other babes from the crownlands who visenya has been very close to her entire life. any gender is fine. ➢ 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 (𝟎/𝟐)

[bamboo72498]

Housewarming

Welcome to a new year of @domaystic fun! I’m excited to see what these 31 prompts bring. If you have requests or pairs you wish to see, let me know! also? All the prompts are listed on their page if you wish to play along or see what’s coming up. 

Thanks a bunch to the moderators of this challenge! I really appreciate it. 

Day 1: Housewarming Fandom: Castle Rating: PG Word Count: 509 CW/TW: passing mentions of trauma and gun violence. 

Author’s Note: This is set post-s8 and follows plots from the finale. 

[][]

“Well, here we are,” he sighs.

Kate stops next to him and unclenches her jaw. She’d been mentally preparing for the rush of emotion coming back home could bring about, but realizes it isn’t there yet. Slowly, she relaxes other parts of her body and feels the knot in her stomach unravel bit by bit. Castle lets go of her hand and Kate feels just how tight she’d been gripping it as her hand relaxes and a twinge of pain comes to the muscles instead. 

“Here we are,” she repeats. 

Fifteen months had passed since that spring day when Caleb had broken into their home and attempted to hurt them. Fifteen months of doctors and appointments. 

After being released from the hospital, they’d run off to the Hamptons to heal, tucking themselves away from the world and only letting close friends and family, and their rehab team inside.

Kate took a year's sabbatical off work to focus her attention on healing herself and her family. 

Somehow, amidst all the pain (both mental and physical), the universe had granted them a glimmer of joy. An unexpected pregnancy that both eased and grew the anxiety in their heads and hearts. 

Their daughter was born at sunrise, slipping quietly into her mom’s arms as everyone around cried. She was a beacon of hope, of change, of new beginnings.

Slowly, the little family emerged from their beach house bubble and began coming into the city more and more. Each time, the fear of dark corners and sudden noises lessened until it was more awareness than fear. 

Castle returned to writing and meetings, penning the eleventh and twelfth Nikki Heat books in quick succession, and Kate eased back into work as Captain of the 12th by welcoming in a new class of rookies.

As summer cooled into fall and baseball season made way for football, Rick and Kate made the decision to return home to their Tibecca loft. Martha and Alexis had already overseen the cleanup and remodel of the place and Martha was happily still calling it her home. No amount of bleach and fresh paint could erase what had happened there. All the bad memories that existed would still be there, hiding in dark corners and nightmares. 

It was going to take work for them to keep the monsters at bay and let as much sunshine in as they could. But they were determined not to let the fear win; to keep their home lovely and light. Their daughter deserved that just as much as they did. 

The move was made over just one weekend, and by Sunday night all that was left to do was walk their daughter over the threshold of her forever home. 

“You girls ready?” Castle asks her as they stand in front of the wooden door a second longer.

“We’re ready,” Kate nods, looking down at their daughter strapped snuggly to her chest in a soft sling. “Welcome home, Lily.”

He turns the handle and two steps later they are home.