#i feel like people are missing the forest for one single tree on this one ngl

[knowlesian]

like the research nerd i am, i decided to get together all the evidence (aka: all the scenes where izzy and ed talk about death, stede’s or otherwise, since you always need the whole data set on this kind of thing to sort out the answer) to try to suss out if the text tells us whether izzy knows about ed’s fine line on killing.

just to make it easy on myself, i’ll start with breaking down the scenes first, in order from e3-6.

e3 - 

- izzy asks if “we” should attack/kill/feed to the sharks stede and co; this could imply ed would take part, but it could also mean the rest of the crew sans ed, so inconclusive.

e4 - 

- the talking tough way ed mentions the spaniards dying seems a bit odd if izzy knows ed never kills directly/feels morally weird about the subject, but also inconclusive.

- “what’s the plan”/“the ushze” conversation about the revenge’s crew is again on the ambiguous end; it doesn’t really give us much on who would be doing the executing.

- until a little later! when izzy casually orders ivan and fang to kill the crew for him. this doesn’t give us much re: ed, but it does show izzy offloads his own killing as well and isn’t the Ship Executioner as a matter of course.

- during their first conversation about stealing stede’s identity ed implies he’ll be doing the killing, and izzy doesn’t appear to assume otherwise/show any surprise or shock ed would break a decades-long rule.

(which to me is the first potentially slam dunk piece of evidence: the natural response to finding out something like that would be anything but easy acceptance, if izzy was aware this would be the severest of breaks in pattern for ed. it’s like... we all have that one friend who orders the same thing every single time they go to a restaurant, and if they ever switch it up people go OH SHIT, THO. this is more than that— this is like a lifelong vegan ordering a whole rack of ribs without warning. essentially: when you know somebody’s rock-solid established patterns and they up and break one, you don’t go yeah sure okay. i have no shock.)

e5 -

- ed tells fang to kill the french captain for him and again there’s no shock or indication this is unusual, so it’s definitely not just izzy doing ed’s killing either way.

e6- 

- opens with izzy’s internal monologue that after two weeks of spending 24/7 living up each other’s assholes he’s “beginning to suspect” ed himself isn’t going to kill stede. which seems odd, if izzy has any idea ed doesn’t kill— why would he be surprised ed’s getting cold feet at all? and if it took him two weeks to be like, wait. ed’s maybe NOT gonna kill this guy??? even though he knew killing was a line for ed, that seems a weird way to say that/approach this situation. 

(on a formatting note: the fact that this is the single moment of internal thoughts given as voiceover/monologue on the series— eta, forgot about mary! overall point stands, but accuracy!!! refining arguments is always best. this is also interesting since stede’s narration is given via his narration to lucius in-world which makes mary and izzy the unreliable/reliable no in-world explanation for the monologuing pair, anyway back to the action— and worth thinking deeper about. the writers made sure to establish even in the privacy of his own head, izzy isn’t thinking to himself anything but ‘huh. maybe ed... isn’t going to do it????’ and that it took him literally two weeks to suss out ed’s flirting, not getting ready to do a murder. 

they also juxtapose the monologue with ed being obviously flirty and enjoying himself— so obviously that Fang and Ivan can see it—  so on the emotional intelligence/reading the room and seeing things he doesn’t want to see side: if izzy’s been with ed for years and it took him two weeks to notice ed was playing footsie vs plotting murder, that’s another mark against the idea that he can read ed like a book.)

- then we get a direct line into the scene where izzy tells ivan and fang ed is for sure gonna kill stede, he promised. so unless we’re meant to take away that izzy is aware this would be huge for ed and is simultaneously not running cover/setting up things to pressure ed before he ever offers to do it himself (or even thinks he’ll have to!) this feels like more evidence he has no idea. (because the use of internal monologue just told us izzy isn’t lying to ivan and fang here: he 100% expects ed to do it, and not that he’ll want or need izzy to step in.)

- which leads into izzy bringing ivan and fang in to push ed. (and being a bit of an unreliable narrator once again, as he speaks for ivan and fang despite the earlier scene where they push back on him and don’t agree with his desire move ed along.) if we read in that izzy knows ed doesn’t kill, this positions izzy as the kind of skilled manipulator that just doesn’t scan with the rest of what we see from him. the kind of sneaky/fucked up you have to be to know ed’s line here and only implicitly threaten that image while also bringing in fang to remind ed about the dog doesn’t fit with izzy’s blaring sirens/neon sign mode of persuasion. izzy sort of just says FUCKIN DO THE FUCKIN THING I WANT! FUCK!!! he’s not a sneak around corners dude. if izzy 100% thinks ed kills people then this is a scene of him getting more and more impatient about annoying foot dragging.

- then we get to: “i’ll happily end it.” / “no, it’s my mess. i’ll do it.” izzy only volunteers to kill stede for ed after two weeks of waiting and after pulling in ivan and fang and still getting nothing, and again he expresses no surprise or doubt at ed’s continued promises he doesn't need the assist, either verbally or physically. 

(this is also the only time izzy offers to kill for edward, in the entire run of the show, outside “you’re not doing this. so i must” before the duel begins. izzy says over and over he absolutely expects ed to kill and isn’t assuming it would be hard or a break from pattern, and only once in ten whole episodes offers to do it for him. these are very careful writers: i can’t imagine this is a mistake.)

- this is immediately followed in the same conversation by izzy saying “send him to doggy heaven” as a followup to the offer which... again, as ever, makes me die laughing. but also shows us: izzy still has zero real doubts ed himself is gonna do this, and has once again not acted like somebody who thinks this is hard for ed, or a change in pattern. he offered, but by the end of the conversation izzy is back to: yeah, of course ed will do it.

so, my baseline argument: just given what we see in the text, it seems far more likely izzy doesn’t know ed doesn’t kill. 

it’s either that or he’s somehow aware but not in any way confused/shocked/even vaguely suspicious that ed is changing this long-held rule out of nowhere, and is comfortable using it against ed despite knowing in a way that positions him as more of a manipulator and not just a guy trying to hurry ed along and get rid of stede, already. 

beyond that izzy never mentions ed’s choice not to directly kill a single time, even in his own brain or when telling ed he wishes he was dead in the finale; it seems a huge writing oversight to leave that out, if izzy is trying to provoke ed and/or prove his worth while enforcing what he assumes is ed’s natural state. if izzy understands ed is not actually that legend and in fact uses the legend to keep people from noticing what’s behind it on a practical level, shoving the legend in his face and saying it’s all ed is doesn’t scan.

and what’s more, we know ed has put on a good pirate show. he’s cut off toes before, he's maimed people, and he takes parts in raids just like everybody else: to be blunt, there are a hell of a lot of ways to hurt people reeeeeal bad without directly killing them. if you shoot or stab or whack somebody real hard and leave them there and they die like, twenty minutes later when you’re already gone, that suits ed’s definition of not killing just fine. there’s a lot of hard to notice ground between ‘leaves to die’ and ‘doesn’t kill’.

which leads me into the human nature argument, and the fact that the show establishes ed is the kind of person who thinks about how to conjure and use fear to control people, and thus needs to understand people in order to accurately assess their fears. on ed’s side, if you make yourself known to be the sort of man who cuts off poor bastards’ toes for a laugh or sets ships aflame and all that, people don’t ask themselves: wait, does this guy kill people though? 

it’s part of why we have the whole ‘but he seemed like such a nice/quiet/etc guy!’ trope whenever somebody does some fucked up shit. most people don’t notice a lot happening around them, because they aren’t looking for it and don’t expect to see it. people fail to notice things on the scale from infidelity to a serial murder habit in their intimate circles alllll the time.

and then on izzy’s side, we are shown a real lack of emotional intelligence and/or social observational skills over and over. it takes him two whole weeks to even begin to suspect ed doesn’t want to kill stede at all, he can’t really improvise or adapt to any sort of situation that breaks with his expectations of how things should go, he can’t manage the crew the second ed isn’t around (pre-canon and in canon) or tell a mutiny is brewing even though everyone but pete disappears to go plan it, he can’t stop said mutiny once in progress, etc etc etc.

he’s also built up an image of ed that isn’t about who ed actually is, and then built his own career and image around being Blackbeard’s First Mate. we really have to think of things from izzy’s perspective: blackbeard is a legendary pirate, izzy came into his service when he was already a legend, and izzy’s concepts of the world do not seem to include “it’s cool if you don’t like to kill people”. we are given absolutely zero evidence izzy would consider that anything but a sign of horrifying weakness, and lots of evidence he thinks ed is someone who does kill.

given all the evidence, everything we know of izzy’s character and how he processes the world/ed, and the fact that these are very good writers who know human nature and how to craft a story, i would say with a fair amount of certainty it’s more likely izzy has no idea ed draws that line.

#ofmd spoilers #my ofmd meta #(ish) #from a writer pov that bathtub scene is weird if ed's verbalized this before #and izzy is not... like this man cannot read ed #ed can read izzy! not so much the other way around #if izzy knows ed doesn't kill his shit with fang and ivan and not expecting ed to ask him is weird and/or terrible #i just do not see it #also if izzy knows: why not throw it in his face when he's willing to say 'i should havelet them kill you' #and why have so many versions of izzy expecting ed to kill with no reservations #and one single offer? #i feel like people are missing the forest for one single tree on this one ngl #i get why that assumption was made! but the evidence doesn't bear it out #even in the privacy of his own head izzy assumes ed will kill with ease #and if he knows ed doesn't kill... that just doesn't scan

[samwinchesterism]

in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”

“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.

like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.

anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below

childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah

every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:

“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.

obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.

similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.

or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down  

one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:

“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children – of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.

from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”

and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)

again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.

“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”

the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.

Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.

examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):

2.02 (about John’s death)

Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon

3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)

SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.

DEAN: I'm not!

SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.

DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.

SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.

DEAN: And how do you know that?

SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.

5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:

SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call

DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.

SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.

DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?

SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.

8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)

SAM: I'm saving my brother.

CASTIEL: You told Dean—

SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—

CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.

SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.

10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”

11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah.

Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.

Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.

Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?

13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)

JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?

SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.

JACK: Why would he be afraid?

SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.

14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]

14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]

14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]

15.17 (self explanatory at this point)

DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!

SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.

so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)

#sorry i wasnt gonna be able to sleep otherwise my blood pressure got too high #sam winchester meta #sam winchester #anti destiel #sam and dean #whatever else my tags are #haven't done this in a minute #i'm sorry for being a cunty sam stan (tm) in this but have you considered we'd be nicer if you ppl were less dumb #this is not proofread it's not real meta

[fqreverwinter]

“time-slipping”

— — — —

relationship: loki x fem!reader

summary: you were loki’s teenage love, but he lost you too soon. in his quest to save the sacred timeline, he time-slips to you, not knowing that you are the one thing that could help him.

warnings: none! :)

word count: 2.6k

notes: i guess i’m back in my loki era! this contains some spoilers for season two, so please read with caution if you have not seen it yet!

masterlist

The pain was like no other; time-slipping felt like Loki was being torn into a million pieces while being squished into a small box at the same time. Light flashed around him, making him feel dizzy whilst experiencing the excruciating pain. After the blinding few seconds that the phenomenon lasted, Loki finally landed in whatever spot the force thought he needed to be in next.

At first, he was confused. He was surrounded by trees and mountains—no where he had ever teleported to before. Once he got his bearings, he realized where he was.

Asgard.

It was strange. Each time Loki time-slipped, it was to a place that he had unfinished business in, whether it was the TVA in the past or the McDonald's in the way past that Sylvie worked in. He thought he had no unfinished business in Asgard.

He groaned. Unless it was to deal with his brother or his father.

As Loki began to curse whatever force was behind his teleportation for bringing him here to deal with his family drama, he heard a voice off in the distance. He paused, trying to determine where he knew this voice from. Then he heard it again and his heart skipped a beat.

"It can't be," he whispered under his breath, peeking around the tree that he spawned behind. But it was true. There, you sat, the first and greatest love he ever had.

You were on a stone bench in the middle of one of the many gardens of Asgard. Your hair was blowing in the soft summer breeze as you read aloud—your favorite way to read—a Midgardian book. Loki watched as you smiled or frowned with each line you read, taking in all of the features of your face that he missed so dearly.

You and Loki had met when you were teenagers. You lived in a cottage near the palace with your parents, both prominent jewelers in the realm. He came to their store one day with his brother to pick out a pair of earrings for the queen's birthday. You just happened to be sitting behind the counter talking with your mother when they arrived.

As soon as Loki laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted to marry you. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. While Thor worked with your mother to find the gift for Frigga, he walked over to you and began a conversation.

Loki came to the shop almost every day for two weeks, asking about you every single time. You never really frequented the store, so most of the time, your parents would turn him away. After his thirteenth visit in fifteen days, your father had enough and finally took Loki back to your cottage, where you were baking, another favorite hobby of yours. Your father explained that this "obnoxious prince" had tormented the store for too long and just wanted the pain to be over, as Loki stood behind him with a sheepish grin. You laughed and invited Loki to sit with you.

The rest became history. You and Loki officially began dating after a few outings, mostly walks along the forest or snacking on fruit in the palace's courtyard. Loki was enamored with you, as you were enamored with him.

But the worst happened just seven months after your relationship began. Loki left the palace that morning with the intention of bringing you to the library within the palace, somewhere you had expressed interest in seeing but never had the chance to visit. He planned a whole day: explore the shelves, allow you to pick as many books as you wanted, then have dinner with him and his family so you could meet them properly.

As he approached your neighborhood, he noticed swarms of people standing outside the perimeters as guards blocked anyone from approaching. Curious, Loki walked up to one guard that he recognized and asked what had happened. The guard explained that last night, a group of bandits had broken into the home of a jeweler with the intent to steal some of the more precious jewelry that they kept there. The family woke up in the process and they slaughtered all three: a mother, a father, and a daughter.

The words struck Loki like a knife. His heart sank as he started to push past the guards, but they refused to budge.

"Your highness, we cannot let you through. They are removing the bodies."

"No! You must! That's my love!" he cried, still trying to push past. But it was no use. He peeked through the gaps between the guards to see if he could catch a glimpse of the scene. The only thing he was able to see was your hand, one that he recognized because of the gold ring you always wore. It was covered in blood.

Loki shook the flashbacks out of his head as he continued to watch you read on the bench. Quite honestly, he never got over that day. It sent him into a dark spiral, one that probably led him to making all the poor choices he did and landing in this godforsaken TVA in the first place. But then he wondered, why would the slipping bring him here?

He tried to move closer to you without being obvious, hoping that there was something in the surroundings that would explain his sudden landing here. As he tiptoed closer, however, he stepped on a branch, leading to a loud crack! Your head snapped up at the noise, and you made eye contact with him. Loki froze, unsure of what to do.

"Loki?" you asked. "Is that you?"

He hesitated before saying, "Uh—Yes. It's me."

You smiled softly. "What are you doing? Why are you hiding? Come here."

You shifted to the side as you closed your book and placed it on your lap. He took a breath before emerging from underneath the tree. He could see you clearly now, and your beautiful face made his heart began to race all over again

How could this be happening? he wondered. How could you be here?

"You look... different. What's with the outfit change? It's so strange," you said through a giggle.

Loki smiled at your laugh, something that he hadn't heard in so long but always brought him comfort. He cleared his throat and answered, "Um, I was trying something new. Do you not like it?"

You shrugged, "I wouldn't say it's my favorite look of yours, but I could get used to it. Come sit next to me. I missed you."

He took another deep breath before sitting beside you on the bench, moving so carefully in case you were to disappear at any sudden movement. You reached over and brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear, noticing a new scar on the side of his face.

"What happened, sweetheart?" you asked with a frown, tracing your finger over it. "How could this have happened since last night?"

"Uh, it didn't," he replied, panicking for a response.

You furrowed your brows. "Then how have I never noticed it before? And why do you look so... different?"

You leaned back and looked at him closely, noticing some key differences. He looked older than you were used to, so much taller and so much stronger. He looked exhausted and frustrated and anxious all at the same time. Something in you said that this was not the Loki you knew.

Loki sighed, deciding to come clean. He could tell you knew something was up. And of course you did; he was foolish to think that he could ever pull the wool over your eyes. You were never one to fall for his tricks.

"The truth is, I'm from the future. I'm stuck in this... bureaucracy that controls the timeline of the universe. Something happened and the timeline is falling apart, and I've been slipping in and out of different places in time as a consequence."

You looked shocked for a moment, then laughed. But when Loki's face didn't change, you stopped.

"You're serious?" you asked with a surprised expression.

"Unfortunately, I am," he replied, hanging his head. "For some reason, I spawned here. I have no idea why. You—You're dead. You died, darling. And I don't know if this is some sort of torture from the bastard at the end of time or if there is some other motive—but it's breaking my heart to see you."

You looked at Loki as he sat beside you, breathing heavily and shaking from the emotions coursing through him. His words sat in your thoughts—you die? Well, obviously, you die at some point, but you die young?

You had a million questions to ask him about this circumstance, but you knew that wasn't the reason he was here. You decided to focus on him instead.

"Loki," you began, placing your hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you with tears running down his face.

"Don't cry, my love. You were brought here for a reason, and I doubt it was torture. What are you trying to do with this timeline? Do you need to fix it?"

He nodded, "We have to stop it from branching or—or this dangerous man will escape and start a war."

"Right," you said with a nod, although the entire situation confused you. "So what is stopping you?"

Loki sighed and looked back down at his hands. "I—I keep doing this time-slipping, and I don't know why. I cannot figure out what I am supposed to do. I've been working at it for centuries at this point, and every time I get remotely close, something happens and it doesn't work. And there's one final option left—but I just can't bring myself to do it."

Your heart broke at his lament. You loved him so much, and you hated seeing him so beat down like this. Then, he froze before picking his head up and looking at you with that mischievous grin that you recognized.

"I know! I know why I was brought here! I'm meant to save you!" he claimed excitedly. "I-I can save you from your death, and that way none of this would have ever happened. I can correct the wrongs of the past and just be happy."

His smile dropped when he realized you didn't return his excitement. Instead, you placed your hand on his knee and gave him a sad smile.

"I don't think that's the solution, love."

"No! It is! It has to be! This is the only place that the time-slipping has taken me to that had nothing to do with the people I met at the TVA. Clearly, I'm meant to prevent your death so that we can live happily together and I never made the mistakes I did."

"Loki," you said with a sigh, taking both of his hands in yours. "You said you had a choice to make, that there was a final option. Why won't you do it?"

He looked at you right in your eyes, clearly confused as to why you wouldn't just accept the fact that he wanted to save you. "Um, well, it would mean I'd never get to see my friends again. Like, physically. I'd be able to see them but they'd never be able to see me. And ever since you have been gone, I have had the hardest time finding a group of people to accept me again. I am not willing to let that go quite yet."

"Love, have I ever told you the story about my old dog?" you asked.

Loki looked at you with a puzzled expression. "Uh, no, I don't think so."

"Well," you began with a smile. "Her name was Daisy. She was this gorgeous little retriever who could brighten anyone's day. I got her when I was just four years old, so we pretty much grew up together. She was my favorite thing in the whole wide world. Then, just a few years ago, Daisy started to slow down. She was tired all the time, and she wouldn't eat or play. So, we took her to the closest animal expert. He said that she was really sick. We had to make the decision to either try a medicine that might work but could leave her in pain for the rest of her life or let her go out on her own terms. Do you know what we did?"

He shook his head.

"My parents left the decision up to me because she was technically my dog. I decided to not try the medicine and let her die on her own. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. I would have loved to have more years with my Daisy, but I knew that she would not be happy. In the end, I had to make the choice that I knew was right, even if it meant losing something I loved."

Loki looked at you with wide eyes, nearly on the verge of tears again. He leaned into your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him. Somehow, you always knew just what to say to make him feel better.

"So, my love," you began again, holding him close to you. "Sometimes we have to make the hard choice. Sometimes you have to give up something you love. But in the end, it will be worth it."

You held him for a while, no words spoken between the two of you. You could tell that Loki needed this, he needed to just be around you for a little while longer.

Loki, now knowing what he had to do, just took in the moment for as long as he could. It had been years since he felt you. He memorized every curve of your body, every feeling he had touching you, the way you gently rubbed circles on his shoulder, the way you placed a soft kiss on his forehead every so often.

"Thank you," he finally muttered, sitting up and looking at your eyes again. "I just miss you so much."

"I know, sweetheart," you said. "But look at the life you have without me!"

Loki shook his head with a cynical laugh. "I tried to kill Thor, destroy Jotunheim, then take over Midgard until I was captured and forced into this bureaucracy. I have had no life without you, darling."

You looked at him in disbelief for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to all that. "Well, now you have the chance to make up for all that. Be a hero, my love. What's that thing you always say? Greater purpose?"

He laughed, "Glorious purpose, yes."

"Yeah, that! Do that, sweetheart. I'll love you forever, no matter what happens. You know that."

He nodded and stood up, finally feeling ready to take on his mission. As he rose, he noticed the world around you starting to turn into string. He could not bear seeing you disappear again like he saw all his friends. It would be too much, losing you twice. You looked around in confusion as well.

"What's going on?" you asked with a puzzled look.

"It's no matter. Just look at me," Loki replied. You turned to face him. He smiled, memorizing your face one last time.

"Thank you again, my darling. I love you more than you'll ever know."

You smiled at him one last time.

Somehow, Loki had figured out how to control his time-slipping. He felt it in his veins as he was able to spawn back in the TVA without any excruciating pain or blinding light. He looked around at all of his friends—all the people he met on this journey. He closed his eyes and pictured you, the beautiful you he saw sitting on the bench and reading your book. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and formulated his plan to save the world.

#loki #imagine #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki tv #loki imagine #loki fluff #oneshot #marvel #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #marvel imagine

[starrydixon]

Faint

*Requested from this ask :)*

Era: Farm  Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: None-Specified Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: mild language, brief descriptions of fainting and dehydration, fluff!!

Summary: After pushing yourself a little too hard in the hot Georgia sun, you find yourself losing consciousness. Luckily, Daryl’s right there to help you out. 

It was hot—probably one of the hottest days since the apocalypse started. The blaring sun was not holding back, as there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky to block the assaulting rays from your skin for even a few seconds. The Georgia humidity also wasn’t helping; it made the air you breathed feel denser and like there wasn’t much oxygen to inhale. Sweat collected across your hairline, around your neck, and dripped down your spine. The clothes you were wearing stuck to your body like another layer of skin, and you were sure there were patches of sweat staining your shirt. Before the outbreak happened, you would have been embarrassed by it, but there were more important things to be worried about nowadays instead of people seeing you sweat.

With most of the group out of commission or being assigned to do something else, it was only you and Daryl looking for Sophia today. Daryl was heading towards the creek, seeing what he could find at the only landmark the little girl had to go by, while you searched in the opposite direction; just in case she had wandered out further than anticipated.

The water in your canteen had run out hours ago. You knew you should have gone back to the farm to refill from one of the wells, but finding Sophia was more important than relieving your dry throat. You hadn’t realized just how draining the sun was on your body until you noticed that your once stealthy footsteps had turned heavy and noisy. That should have been your other sign to go back to the farm, but you still pushed on. When your vision began to go out of focus not even twenty minutes later, you knew you were treading dangerously on succumbing to heat stroke. As much as you wanted to keep looking for Sophia, up until the hot sun began to set over the horizon, you knew you wouldn’t be very useful if you were delirious and or unconscious. 

As the blue sky began to tint with light shades of oranges and pinks, Daryl had assumed you had already made it back to the farm when he reentered the property. The hunter was perceptive; keeping to himself most days and observing the people around him. He instantly felt the lack of your presence around camp when he returned from his search. Maybe it was because you were the only person within the small group of survivors that he was immediately drawn to when he and his brother first showed up to the camp at the Quarry. You had always been genuinely nice to him, and didn’t treat him like the outsider he felt and knew that he was. So your absence was significant to him.

With Sophia still missing, and presumably lost in the vast forest that surrounded the immediate area, Daryl couldn’t help but fear that you were now lost too. Of course he hoped you were only taking so long to return because you had found Sophia, or at least found a warm trail of her, but his anxiety was getting the best of him. He couldn’t take that chance; having another person lost on his account. The archer didn’t hesitate to go back out there, find your tracks, and make sure that you were okay. 

Just as he was beginning to cross the field of overgrown grass and weeds, Daryl was met with the welcomed sight of you emerging from the tree line of the woods. He didn’t know if he was projecting his fears with Sophia on you, or if it was something else, but he was relieved to see you back in one piece with his own eyes. Daryl hadn’t broken stride, planning to meet you halfway and converse about any evidence you may have found during your search. The closer he got, the clearer your weary body language and sweat sheened face became. 

“Y/N?” Daryl called out to you, cupping a hand next to his mouth in an attempt to magnify the sound of his voice. When the only response he got from you was witnessing your body drop to the ground, his once relaxed strides quickly turned into a full on run.

Internal alarms that Daryl didn’t know he possessed began to go off, causing his heart to race and his breathing to become labored. Daryl kept calling out to you as he made his way over to you, hoping that your face would miraculously pop up from the overgrown foliage and reassure him that you were fine and had just tripped over an upturned pile of dirt. When that didn’t happen, curse words rooted from fear flew out his mouth. 

Daryl had no idea what to do when he finally reached you. Kneeling down beside you, his hands hovered around the frame of your face and sides of your head. He was worried that his touch, no matter how gentle he tried to be, would somehow hurt you. .

“Hey-hey.” The archer’s voice was soft, but still held that distinctive gravely undertone as he watched your facial expressions begin to stir. Daryl’s breath quickened and his ears had a deafening ring in them due to the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

The second you opened your eyes, just a crack, you instantly squeezed them shut again. A distressed groan sounded from under your breath as the near blinding brightness and nauseating dizziness stung your sensitive eyes. If it weren’t for Daryl’s voice sounding so close, yet so distant, you probably would have panicked at how disoriented you felt.

“Easy now…” Daryl trailed off cautiously as you began to sit up. His hands hovered around your frame, spotting you in case you fell down again.

“Don’t…don’t take me to Hershel.” You informed the archer as you blinked your vision back into focus. Your muscles still felt heavy and weak, and you were sure you’d fall over again soon as it was becoming difficult to keep yourself upright. 

“Just—help me to some shade.”

Daryl was hesitant about following your wishes, as he thought you should be seen by someone who had a medical background. You noticed his hesitation, and shot him a heated warning look with whatever energy you had left to spare. With a shake of his head and a light scoff escaping past his lips, Daryl helped you to your feet and led you over to the closest tree; which was one of the many peach trees residing around the Greene’s farm. 

“Water…please.” Your voice was breathy and weak as you slumped back against the sturdy tree trunk. If your body wasn’t so exerted of energy, you would have found the rigged wood that dug into your back uncomfortable.

“Right—water.” Daryl patted his body, searching for the canteen he often carried on his person. When one of his hands bumped into the container, the archer clumsily removed the strap from off his shoulder and practically shoved the canteen in your face due to his hasted mindset. 

A thank you barely made it out of your mouth before you eagerly drank the refreshing water. You knew you would need more than a half-full canteen worth of water to hydrate your body again, but just the mere feel of the cool liquid filing your dry mouth and going down your scratchy throat was replenishing enough. 

“You seem awfully calm for someone who just passed out.” The archer’s distinctive southern drawl seemed even more prominent when he spoke. Carefully, Daryl sat down beside you under the tree that was providing your hot skin with cooling shade. 

For a moment, you could only shrug your shoulders dismissively in response as you let your head fall back against the tree trunk. The golden hue of the sunset caused the overgrown grassland in front of you to seem like it was glowing. It was a peaceful view, and you couldn’t help but allow its peace to calm you for a few moments. 

“If I wasn’t aware of why I fainted, I definitely wouldn’t be this level-headed.” Your voice was slow, but composed and lucid. It made Daryl’s looming anxiety settle and his protective guard to slightly drop. “I ran out of water hours ago…I just wanted to keep looking for Sophia.”

For a fleeting second, Daryl felt a surge of warmth spread over the expanse of his chest. You didn’t have to explain yourself further; he understood where you were coming from completely and was perplexedly endeared that you were just as committed to finding Sophia as he was. Carefully, Daryl glanced over at you, and felt an electric shock shoot up his spine when he saw your tired eyes and half smile aimed at him. The brightness radiating off of your face practically blinded him, and he had to avert his gaze so he wouldn’t risk having you see the dust of pink he was sure was beginning to cover his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, Daryl only hummed vaguely in response before standing up and brush his hands over his pants to remove some of the dirt that stuck to the worn denim. Squinting through the setting sunlight, the archer took a few steps back and examined the peaches that hung from the branches. Since the peaches hung a few feet too high for Daryl to reach, he knew he'd have to poke the branch until the stem of the fruit broke free from the branch.

“I’d watch your head if I were you.” Daryl warned while raising his crossbow and nudging the branch. 

Placing both arms over your head, you subconsciously winced as you anticipated the feeling of raining fruit falling on you at any moment. The last thing you needed was a head injury on top of your mild heat stroke. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” You expressed endearingly as a weak smile uplifted the corners of your mouth. The archer just shrugged indifferently.

“Ya gotta eat somethin’... these things got lots of vitamins and minerals or whatever and that’ll help ya feel better.” Daryl explained while gesturing to the few peaches that were now cradled in his arms. 

As Daryl kneeled down beside you again and offered you the ripest peach in the bunch, he felt his heart skip a beat when his gaze caught your genuine smile. After making sure to thank the archer once again, you quickly brushed your fingers against the peach to remove any lingering dirt and bit into the sweet and juicy fruit. A comfortable silence fell over you and Daryl as you both enjoyed the delectable snack.

Daryl wasn’t the type of person who normally pried into other people’s business. His rule of thumb was that if something wanted to be said or talked about, it would be eventually at the person's own discretion. This time, however, your health was more important than his comfortability and he was curious as to why you didn’t want to be checked on and cared for with medicine. 

“Is there uh—a reason why ya don wanna see Hershel? He could help ya feel better faster.” Daryl threw the near bare peach pit a few feet in front of him, and watched the pit become hidden within the overgrown foliage of the farmland. 

“Oh…I just don’t want to be more of a burden, you know?”

You too had finished your peach, and threw the pit in the same direction Daryl had. Your’s didn’t land as far as Daryl’s did, and you were going to blame your dehydrated body for your lack of strength instead of your lack of muscles. Wiping your hands of the sticky peach juice on your jeans, you brought the canteen to your lips and drank the remaining liquid. Although your eyes remained on the field in front of you, you could see Daryl’s attention turn to you from the corner of your eye, and feel his curious gaze flit over the side of your face. 

“Should take the medical care while we still got it.” Daryl reasserted while resting his arm on top of his bent knee. 

“I want us all to stay here longer…and if asking for help diminishes that chance, then I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Daryl couldn’t help but admire your selflessness. He wasn’t sure how many other people in the broken group of survivors would also make that kind of stance. To visually show that he was done pushing his own concern onto you, the archer raised his hands in faux surrender. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the small glimpse of charisma from the usually guarded man. 

After a few beats of silence had passed, you found yourself chuckling quietly again and rubbing a distressed hand over your face. “Maybe eating those peaches without asking already ruined our chance.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Daryl compromised with a suggestively raised eyebrow. You couldn’t help but belly laugh with as much strength you could muster while lightly nudging the archer’s arm with your elbow. Daryl couldn’t help but find your laugh contagious and quietly chuckle along.

“Can I get ya some more water?” Daryl asked once the laughter had settled between you two. With his hand, he motioned towards the empty canteen sitting in between your legs. 

“That would be great, actually. Thanks.” 

“Might be more comfortable restin’ in your tent, too.” Daryl suggested lightly as he stood up from the ground. In an attempt to seem less pestering, he shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

“Probably…but I think if I even try to stand up right now, I’d go cross eyed and pass out again.” Despite how serious you were, there was a teasing lilt in your voice to delude the concern. 

Your lightheartedness didn’t seem to have any affect on Daryl, as he stared down at you with a wary look in his eyes. “Right…” Daryl’s drawl was heavy when he spoke, and he shifted uneasily on his feet as those panic-induced alarms began to go off again. 

“I’m fine, seriously. I just need to drink a shit ton of water...and maybe eat another peach” You reassured him encouragingly while handing the canteen to Daryl. The archer just hummed, unconvinced, and snatched the container from you. 

“Don’t pass out while I’m gone…I’ll be pissed if ya do.” Daryl warned while pointing an accusing finger at you. 

“Aren’t you always?” One of your eyebrows rose in speculation as a sly smile formed on your lips. 

Daryl scoffed and took a few steps away from you. He could feel heat begin to flush the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he blurted out his rather flirtatious thoughts without thinking. 

“Nah—not around you…you’re just different I guess.”

Instead of the blaring sun and borderline heatstroke heating up your face, it was Daryl’s alluring comment. All you could do was shake your head dismissively and try (but fail miserably) to conceal the flustered smile that contorted the shape of your lips. A lopsided smile formed on Daryl’s lips as he slowly retreated from you; all the while rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. 

As you watched Daryl jog across the field to the nearest watering well, a wave of invigorating energy coursed through you. You thought only shade and replenishing water could cure your drained and dehydrated body, but it turns out a rugged archer whose strong facade was slowly crumbling to reveal the man he truly was, was just as healing.

-

-

A/N: I just started my twd rewatch, and just had to write something with early season Daryl! Also, I’m so sorry this is out a little later than anticipated! Thank you to the anon who requested this, and I hope you all enjoyed reading! <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

[descendantofthesparrow]

Once Upon a December - The Invitation - Walter x Reader - P1

first vampire/the invitation fic les gooooooo NOTE HEAVY SPOILERS, DOES FOLLOW THE MOVIE/PLOT CLOSLY...that is until it dont, i’m a sucker for happy endings~ 

(i specialize in Thomas Doherty characters x readers so if i wrote something wrong no i didn't) 

=

They said I was found by the side of a road, there were tracks all around; it had recently snowed. In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees A girl with no name, and no memories but these

-

It was dark, cold, and wet-that’s all you could remember-the flashes of fire and lightning, the echo of screams, a hand in yours, pulling you to what seemed to be safety, and then…gone. Someone screaming a name that-seemed to be yours, their voice sobbing and desperate as they drifted away until you couldn’t hear them anymore.

“(y/n)-NO-(y/n)!!!”

You don’t know how you got separated from them, they seemed to care a lot about you, just from how they screamed for you. But you could recall your foot hitting something-metal and slippery, and you fell; hitting your head. You had a nasty scar from it to this day.

You woke up to what felt like-hundreds of years later but couldn't have been more than a few weeks realistically, you couldn’t remember anything, only your name, your age, and the feeling that you were missing something…or someone-by your side.

All you had was a ruby crystal, silver stems and thorns holding it tight to the leather cord around your neck with two small letters engraved into the gem. ‘H.D’. Along the silver vines was another engraving, in the same style as the first except it seemed to simply be an extension of the last letter.

Deville.

It was so simple; you had the initials and the last name. All you had to do was match the name to the person, but-even after years of searching, be it through books or the internet; nothing popped up. A clue that led to nothing, it left you to wonder; who was this H. Deville?

And could you find them? Could you discover your lost past?

It seemed like a long shot, since this-Deville didn’t seem to exist, not a single search engine had any answers, not even a family  tree to maybe help you find them.

Maybe this-Deville had disappeared in the same incident that had caused you to lose your memories 10 years ago, you sighed remembering the day you woke up; all alone on a roadside, freezing cold with snow covering you and the forest surrounding you.

You had wandered into the town nearby, a kind family taking you in and warming you up, giving you new clothes, and doing their best to help you. But with no memories, and no account of-who you were other than your possible name-they couldn’t. Somehow you ended up in new York, homeless and doing your best to survive.

That is-until you met Evie Jackson, your now roommate and one of your only friends, whom you had met during a catering job and hit it off pretty quickly; when she heard about how you were homeless and just looking for a place to crash until you could save up for your own place, she offered her apartment.

You had told her many times that you were grateful for her offer but-you couldn’t just-take half of her space, especially as someone she just met. But she insisted and now here you were, four years later, still living together.

With your combined paychecks, you had been able to move out of her studio apartment to a two-bedroom only a year after you met/started living together, and you were both just scraping by, doing your best to survive in a world that didn't favor you. Evie was a wonderful girl, smart and kind, with a wonderful sense of humor, and wicked ceramic skills. Your favorite thing from her was a beautifully made vase you always made sure to keep stocked with flowers, she had made it for your first birthday in the apartment. You did have to admit, you did cry.

You were just grateful that you had someone, two people in fact, that you cared about so deeply and they felt the same; you wouldn’t trade Evie or Grace for all the riches in the world. They made you feel just-so much less alone than you really were, a girl with no memories of her past other than voices and snow.

You were ripped out of your thoughts and memories as Evie walked into the apartment, sighing heavily as she kicked off her heels and gently threw her backpack onto the couch; before plopping next to you with a raspberry “long day?” you asked, knowing Evie had to work at this boring catering gig about a 10-year anniversary or whatever. She just groaned, leaning into you and hugging your arm.

You laughed gently, squishing your cheek into her head “Long day. I made pasta if you want it? Ravioli~” Evie perked up, opening one eye to get a good look at you “it’s that uh-lobster and ricotta cheese one I bought a few days ago, made some garlic rolls to go with it too”

Evie hummed, realizing the smell of garlic and lobster still waved about in the small space that was known as the living room and kitchen. “yes please” Evie muttered, huffing as you slipped out of her hold to go make her a bowl “Can you get me a Fanta too? Please?”

“Yep yep!” you called back, taking the leftover pasta out and heating it up in the microwave, sticking your hands in your hoodie pockets as Evie went to her room to change, sick of the full black outfit she had been wearing for hours on end. You took out Evie’s preferred pasta sauce and an orange Fanta, getting one for yourself as well; eyeing up the chocolate cake that was inside the fridge before closing it and finishing up Evie’s bowl, setting it on the counter with a re-toasted garlic roll on a paper towel.

“Orders up!” you yelled down the hall, laughing as Evie made a sarcastic laugh, coming back out of her room in a comfortable-looking set of overalls and her hair up. “Thank you (y/n), I really appreciate it, today was just-guh” Evie muttered, giving you a quick hug before collecting her food and drink, plopping back down on the couch to eat.

She un-paused the movie on your laptop and you sat down next to her, the two of you enjoying the near silence as you watched the cheesy vampire “horror” movie you had pulled up. By the end of it the two of you were cheesing it, sharing the small bottles of wine Evie had brought back in the little goodie bag grace had scored.

“I mean, who would be scared of that?” Evie snorted, gesturing to the goofy-looking vampire with obviously fake teeth and horribly done hairline. “man’s looks like Dracula on meth” At this you cracked up, sliding down the couch as Evie smirked in victory, finishing off her bottle before standing up to go wash her bowl “Thanks for dinner (y/n), really” you smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up, sitting up to change the movie as Evie washed up. “I’m gonna do some ‘pottery’” Evie mocked, using air quotes as you rolled your eyes “I said I was sorry, Ceramics~” you teased, having referred to her art as pottery only once and she still made fun of you about it to this day. Evie stuck her tongue out and sat down in her chair, taking a chunk of clay and slapping it down on her table.

You glanced at her as a few minutes later she made a frustrated noise and smushed down the bowl she had been making, pulling it up with the cord and throwing the clay with its ruined brethren. You looked away as she sighed, wiping her forehead. “Please tell me there's more mini-wine bottles in that bag” Evie muttered, standing up and walking over to you, holding her hand out as you grabbed the back and checked.

“Two more” you muttered, handing her the bag and looking away as she muttered thanks and took out one of the two wine bottles “You okay?” Evie shrugged, fiddling with her necklace like she always did when she was feeling alone. “You still have clay on your hands.”

Evie’s eyes widened and she yelped, looking down at her now clay-covered necklace and slamming the wine bottle onto the table, rushing to go wash her hands and necklace. You took a paper towel and cleaned the bottle before setting it back down on the table, resting your feet on the table as Evie walked back in, rubbing her face with her now clean hands.

“You wanna talk about anything?” you asked as she grabbed the wine bottle and the bag, smiling softly as she shook her head “Okay, I'm one doorway away if you need anything, okay?” Evie smiled at you, nodding as she turned to retire to her room “Goodnight Eve”

“Night Anya” you rolled her eyes at her nickname for you, but if fit; you matched the fictionalized Anastasia all too well. You just hoped your story would follow her’s in turn. Soon enough you were going to bed, passing by Evie’s room to hear her mother's voice faintly through the door. You frowned, knowing Evie was feeling just as lost as you did, she had no biological family left, simply floating by in life; just as you were.

You fiddled with the crystal hanging from your neck, thumbing the engraving on the vine “H. Deville” you whispered, sitting on your bed and leaning against the wall. “Just who are you?...who am I for that matter” you muttered to yourself, letting your hands fall and your head flop into your pillow, curling your hands to your chest to hold the necklace close.

“I’m never going to find out who I am” you whispered, feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you fell into a dream-filled sleep of grand parties and a soothing voice in your ear, strong hands holding you close.

-

A week later, you, Grace, and Evie were in the living room, Evie scrolling on her laptop to find a movie while Grace helped herself to some white wine. “Did you ever go out on a date with that bartender guy?” Grace asked, Evie made a gagging noise, sticking her tongue out as you giggled, curling the leather cord of your necklace between your fingers.

“I’m ignoring his texts” Evie muttered, looking back at her laptop screen as she switched over to her email, unable to find anything interesting to watch. Even your cheesy horror movies looked boring. Grace frowned, turning to Evie with a shocked look “why? I thought you said you liked him! Didn’t she (y/n)?”

You nodded, giving Evie a teasing smile as she glared at you for helping Grace mess with her “Yep, she said, and I quote ‘oh he’s cute’~ think I can get his number?’ with a capital c” you said almost proudly, and Evie chuckled a pillow at you, rolling her eyes as you giggled “For someone who doesn’t remember a lick of her past, she’s got our words down pact” Grace laughed, sitting next to Evie as she rolled her eyes and you blew a raspberry at Grace.

“I’m just-not-I can't handle the new York dating scene right now” Evie muttered, sipping at her coffee when her email pinged, Grace agreed with her opinion on the whole dating thing. “it is exhausting” Grace hummed, tilting her head as Evie blinked in surprise at what she found in her email. “What?”

“Yeah, what? You gasped like when you got 500 bucks off that lottery ticket” you asked, repeating Grace’s question as you moved from the love seat to sit on Evie’s other side. “I got a cousin!” Evie proclaimed, leaning back to show you and Grace the screen.

Well, there it was, right on the screen; Evie had a 2nd cousin, Oliver Alexander. “Impossible he’s white as hell” you muttered, laughing as Evie pushed at your shoulder. “What she said, that is the whitest man I’ve ever seen, and he’s British” Grace said with a small laugh, watching as Evie read what Oliver had messaged her.

“He wants to meet up” Evie muttered, licking her lips in thought as Grace choked on her wine “A stranger? On the internet?” Grace said with raised brows, as if the idea was stupid “mm-mm, you’re not doing that” Evie tried to justify it, stuttering on her words as you leaned closer to the laptop, clicking on the ‘family tree’ to see how she was related to this, Oliver.

“He’s family” Grace just gave you a look that said ‘and?’ which made you snort a bit, slapping your hand over your mouth and nose to let Evie go on without making her feel like she was being made fun of; because you both knew how important finding her family was to her.

There was a reason you got along so well, especially after her mom passed away. Evie continued, glancing back at her laptop “And-I don’t have any” Grace hummed, pursing her lips as she looked at Evie, mostly teasing but she didn’t want Evie to walk into something that was only going to get her hurt.

“Oh, so you wanna be catfished? Oh, interesting” Evie let out a small scoff at Grace's playful yet serious words, shrugging a bit as she gestured to Oliver “I mean-look, he’s wearing an ascot. What could he possibly want with my broke ass?”

“Your kidneys?” Grace joked, still kinda serious as you let yourself laugh, Evie rolled her eyes at Grace’s wild guess “That’s probably exactly what this site is, tinder for unassuming organ donors” Evie laughed, shaking her head as she clicked ‘read more’ on Oliver.

“Well, he’s British, they’re all absurdly polite” Evie muttered, pursing her lips as Grace snorted, standing up to move to the love seat. “Yeah cause they’re wracked with colonial guilt! Doesn’t mean you need to mistake that for good manners.” Evie nodded, turning to you; playing with your necklace as you stared off at nothing.

“What do you think I should do?” Evie asked quietly, and Grace leaned forward; because you would know what Evie was going through the best, both of you without families and feeling lost without a map. You hummed, glancing between Oliver and your necklace, before you smiled.

“I think you should meet him, if just to meet him and know you have family. You don’t need to get all-buddy buddy, but-you know” you shrugged, leaning into Evie and resting your cheek on her shoulder “just make sure you meet in a very public place and update us about everything. British or not dude could be dangerous” Evie snorted, patting your head as Grace pointed at you.

“Exactly, if you do go through with this, keep us updated, he’ll make a group chat even.” Evie rolled her eyes again “you keep doin’ that you’re eyes gonna get stuck” Evie stuck her tongue out at grace as she stood to make sure dinner was ready while you leaned forward to check the family tree again, seeing they were related through Evie’s great grandmother Emmaline.

“maybe I should do this, see if I have any family” you muttered and Evie shrugged, playing with her necklace as she glanced between the family tree and Oliver's message.

Finally, she took the laptop from you and clicked the ‘respond to message’ bubble, taking a deep breath before she started to type.

-end of part 1-

 yeeeeeeeeeeee im hyped for this, I've been thinking about it since i first saw the invitation~ just-ah~ inspired by Anastasia, Beauty and the beast, nnnnnnnnn...idk my stupid brain XD

idk who wants to read this soooo no taglist yet? this isnt my Harry Hook stuff so no perm taglist...if anyone wants to be tagged just lemme know i guess?...okay byyyyyyyyyeeee

#the invitation #Walter Deville #Evie Jackson #x reader #Walter Deville x reader #Walters original name is Harrison #i can do what i want its a fanfic #ill let him keep the deville #but walter is a dorky ass name #memory loss #immortal reader #evie n reader are besties #happy ending #some angst to come up but its a vampire horror movie of course theres gonna be angst #watch me write walt as Harry when it comes down to it i know i will XD #i do the same with Jeff i just fuckin write all Tommy's as Harry XD #Harry is the blueprint

[heartcereql]

body electric

✩ neteyam sully x fem!omaticaya!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒- you can not stand neteyam ࿐࿔*:･ﾟ Sing the body electric / I’m on fire ࿐࿔*:･ﾟ

CW- sorta enemies to lovers (best trope fr), kissing, alcohol consumption, english is not my first language, it gets a bit suggestive;)

A/N- my late bday gift for the lovely @urdeadpoet <333

not a single noise could be heard. even the breese was silent. it was you and the forest, in complete, utter, silence. the feathers adorning the edge of your arrow tickled your cheek. your fingers tightened the grip on the bow as your eyes fixed on the creature lurking beneath your position. 

you inhaled, calculating the inclination of the arrow. it was the perfect shot. you were ready to let it go.

“you’re gonna miss”

the suddenness of the voice startled you, even though you knew very well who it belonged to.

you had accidentally let go of the arrow, which landed away from your prey, scaring the animal away.

“great ” you huffed.

turning around with a disgusted look on your face, you found neteyam. he always seemed to appear when he wasn’t needed.

“relax, i was just trying to help” he said, lifting his hands up. he wasn’t.

“i don’t need nobody” you replied dryly.

“right, ‘cause we got each other” he sent you a teasing smile. one that you loaded. or at least you pretended like you did. 

you scoffed and walked past him, climbing down the tree in annoyance. he noticed your try of escaping and so he soon catched up.

“eywa, you were going to miss anyway. it was too tense. no need to be so dramatic” he commented as he landed.

“i do not recall asking you for help. save it” you told him with a glare, before walking off, leaving him in the forest with an amused grin on his face.

✩✩✩✩

young na’vis, moments away from their iknimayay, if they hadn’t passed it yet, hung out every once in a while. some of them were actually able to obtain sage of the night blossom, which was able to get na’vis drunk. sounded fun.

so you decided to give it a go. you knew some of the people, and so, you found yourself getting down at night to a secret spot in the forest, with a noggin of amber-like liquid that tasted awfully good and made heat rush up to your cheeks. 

life was starting to feel funny. you and a group of your friends were dancing under the pale moonlight to quiet music someone was playing. as you excused yourself to go for another cup, you bumped against a stiff chest.

“neteyam!!” you squealed as you saw him. but then, when reality hit you (as much as it could) “neteyam..”

“good to see you too”

you noticed the drink in his hand and remembered your own. more like the lack of. you tried to move past him, but stumbled upon a protuberance of the ground. lucky for you, neteyam was there to catch you.

“you okay?” he teased.

“ ‘m fine” you dragged out the last word. “i want something more to drink”

“yeah, i don’t think that’s a good idea. how many cups have you had?” he asked, eyeing your relaxed expression around him for once as he started drinking his own. 

“many many many” you let out a giggle “but youuuuu haven’t had anything. c’mon, have some fun!” you ushered him to finish his drink

✩✩✩✩

you couldn’t quite remember when the two of you started drifting away from the celebration, or when you had laid your head on his shoulder.

but there you were, close enough to hear the loud chattering from the party but far enough to hear each other’s breathing. you lifted your eyes towards his face, taking in, as much as your drunken state allowed you to, his features. it just felt alright. to look at him that way. 

he noticed your stare and turned to look at you. 

“what?”

“nothing just-” you interrupted your train of thought “your face glows!” you whisper-shouted. 

he let out a chuckly breath, confused by your admiring expression. you looked mesmerizing.

“you do! see, here” your fingers grazed over one of his luminiscent freckles “and here, and here..” 

you continued tracing his marks. but, mind clouded with alcohol, you miscalculated where you should support your hand and fell over. 

both you and him broke out laughing, before he helped you straighten up. still, you lost balance once again, so you placed your hands on his shoulder for support.

the contact sent an electric sensation over your bodies.

neteyam’s eyes flickered to your lips, before setting up to your eyes again.

maybe it was the alcohol, the moonlight, or maybe it was just the two of you, but he felt it.

and so, he leaned in, carefully testing the waters. you didn’t hesitate to reciprocate and kiss back, with eager passion that set you both on fire.

bodies tangled with each other. tongues fighting for dominance. hands exploring the other’s body. neteyam was the only thing your senses absorbed. and it felt oddly right.

you leaned into his touch, deepening the kiss, sighing, content, against his lips.

neteyam’s mouth abandoned yours, only to attach quickly at your neck, peppering kisses alongside. you exhaled, fingers tangled in his braids.

✩✩✩✩

you woke up to the lack of heat beside you, and to the rustling of grass that followed.

your head hurt like a toruk. your eyelids felt heavy. you didn’t want to get up, but whatever creature besides you kept moving anxiously.

you finally incorporated. stretching out before running your eyes through the scene.

yet if there was one thing you surely wasn’t expecting was neteyam. he was the one walking around.

memories flooded your mind. hands roaming over your body, the way his eyes glistened, his mouth against yours.

and your hair, your garments, smelled like him. for eywa’s sake. he didn’t take long to acknowledge your awoken presence. 

his eyes widened, only to fall immediatly to the ground, heat rising to his cheeks. neither of you said anything for too long. maybe because you were still processing the situation, maybe because you didn’t know what to say, or maybe because you didn’t want to confront the situation just yet. 

neteyam’s eyes shot up back to yours, mantaining your gaze for a few instants, only before running away, leaving you alone. 

you pretended it didn’t hurt you. it shouldn’t. so why did it?

✩✩✩✩

“so” he started

“so”

“it’s a nice evening” neteyam scratched the back of his neck.

“yup” you fidgeted with your fingers akwardly. it had never happened to you before. this nervousness or whatever it was.

“should we-“ “are we going-“ you both tried to talk at the same time

mumbling ‘sorry’s, your eyes avoided his again.

what on eywa’s name was happening to you? it was neteyam. yet the electricity from his touch didn’t fail to make you unsure about your feelings.

your back was now facing him.

“was it a mistake” he softly promoted the question.

your heart tightened in your chest.

“i..” you truly didn’t know what to say. “i don’t know”

“you don’t know? or you don’t wanna know?”

“neteyam i..” you turned abruptly to face him; however he was closer than you thought, causing you to stumble.

you gripped his forearms for support, letting go immediately after.

“sorry” you whispered.

“don’t be” he was the one holding you now. “i’m not”

“i don’t think i am either” your face felt hot. you avoided his gaze.

“so it is okay if i do this?” he asked with a smirk.

neteyam held you closer to his body, electric.

#heartcereql #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #neteyam x reader #atwow #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam

[houseoflibra-if]

Hiiii Duven. I hope you are well and school isn't kicking your butt too much.

Since valentine's day passed and I missed my opportunity to ask this. How would the ROs feel about someone getting the jump on them and asking MC to be their valentine before they could? 👀

Yes I like making people sad

Hello! Sorry for the late reply!!

I'll be writing this in the sense that the ROs have acknowledged the fact that they are in love with you, so more angst hooray!

To add insult to injury, let's say you accept the other person's offer.

A:

A clutches a bouquet of roses close to their chest, heartbeat like thunder against the confines of their body. Their eyes shine with a glimmer of hope when they heard you were at the vicinity of House of Leo.

Perhaps today they will confess to you- the way you make them feel free, the way you steal their breath away and turn them into a stuttering mess. To make the Golden Lion of House Leo fall to your feet with love in their heart, its quite fascinating.

They hum softly, almost turning a corner when they heard your voice. They stop and hide, catching their breath as they heard another voice in your conversation. As it goes on, the light in A's eyes began to dim when they hear your laughter joined with another.

Oh, they think.

A petal falls from a rose in the bouquet.

And a lion's heart was shattered in an instant.

C:

Today was a quiet day for C- which is surprising considering how many people flock them at a time. They sigh happily, glad to be free from their social life once in a while. C decided to head out into the market square today as a means to relax.

Although, they seem to have forgotten that today was the day of love. C grumbles quietly as couples left and right smother the atmosphere with love. C stops for a rest in a quaint section of the market when someone taps their shoulder. A flower- a single rose was offered. C wanted to decline the flower when they spot someone from the corner of their eye.

There you were, a bright light amongst the sea of Valentine chaos. C felt their heart thud loudly, making them curse silently as they took the offered rose and head in your direction. But of course, fate was ever the cruel mistress to desperate souls like C.

They stopped a few feet away from you, hidden amongst the crowd as they saw you with another. A single gasp escaped their mouth. You looked happy, even more than when you were with C.

C turned around after a moment, dropping the rose to the ground.

I wish you all the best, my light.

In your love with someone whose heart is not as broken as mine.

E:

The cold one of House Aquarius felt... happy today. For the first time on Valentines day, E had secured a meeting with you. Some might call it a date, but they haven't professed their love just yet. Perhaps they'd like to tell you over tea today, and hopefully you'd be theirs.

E met with you at a quaint cafe that was unusually packed with couples today. They sigh softly, sitting down with you at a secluded spot in the cafe. Despite all the hassle, E was able to converse with you for quite some time. The smile on your face calmed their heart, thawing what was once frozen.

After some time, E had decided to tell you what they feel. They did so with upmost sincerity, a rare showcase of their raw emotions. For once, E had gained a sliver of the person they used to be, their heart on their sleave waiting earnestly for your reply.

...

They came in with a hopeful heart, and left without one at all.

N:

N was pearched atop a tree, glancing around at the bustling square down below. Their tail swishes languidly as they watch the people of the kingdom celebrate Valentines day. N doesn't completely understand what these customs mean, being raised in the deep forest.

Amongst the crowd, N spots you conversing with another- someone they don't recognise. A slight hiss escapes their lips, eyes narrowed at the scene below. A muddle of thoughts cloud their mind as they try to figure out what this person wants from you. After a moment, N grumbles and slips down the tree, heading towards the city square.

Despite their big frame, N easily maneuvers around the sea of people. They tail you as you walk with the unknown person, ears catching the words exchanged. The more they hear, the more they frown. They do not trust this unknown, who are they to stake claim on your heart?

N's eyes flit around, spotting a few flowers on the ground. They pick them up, brushing the petals clear of dirt. Despite being unknowledgable with the customs of Valentines day, they have observed enough to know that giving the person you like flowers will help with confessing your feelings.

Although, perhaps they were a moment too late- for the words shared between you and the unknown were far more precious than any flower in the world.

🙂

A very late valentines day gift, but I have finally delivered it!

Hope this is alright! 🤭

#house of libra resurgemus #interactive fiction #twine if #interactive game #ask #ro #ro:nyoka #ro:castora/castor #ro:esme/esmeray #ro:avira/aurelius

[crusherthedoctor]

Hi! I just thought I’d throw my hat into the ring with the whole conversation about the whole tails being willing to use his weapons more if it wasn’t for sonics interruption because as much as admit that some people can take it to far (just like on any side of the fandom with any character or idea) I think the actual idea of it is being misinterpreted.

The idea that I’ve seen always centres around how they respect each other, tails before he met sonic is a knowledges by multiple sources that he had a rough upbringing before he met sonic, this is mainly shown through the bullying that has left such an impact on his self-esteem he’s still dealing with it in recent games and still trying to overcome it. Tails is also skilled in making weapons, things he can use to defend himself and his friends.

Now no one’s saying that sonic known about the weapons or that he’s a weapons expert because that isn’t really what the head canon is about and I’ve never really seen anyone say that to be honest? The head canon mainly comes form the idea of ‘what if something went wrong and his friends were hurt and tails saw it as a last option’ this brings us back to tails upbringing

And as much as some people like to make him act more mature this is still an eight year old child who for half of his life basically was bullied so bad that it’s still impacting him. The headcanon usually (it can vary from person to person) makes tails feel the need to defend the people or things that have defended him. Mainly sonic usually.

So since tails is smart it’s only natural that he’d be quicker to the opinion ‘if I took the threat out I’d never have to deal with it again’ because it’s the most logical conclusion. I think where the head canon is mainly misinterpreted is that I don’t think anyone’s saying that tails is using his weapons on every single opponent or every single threat that comes his way. From what I’ve seen is that if it comes down to the last few options in a split second his mind will go to that logical conclusion.

However, sonic basically raised him. Sonic wouldn’t even have to literally point out what tails is doing (most of the time) because tails stops himself, because Tails knows that what he’s doing is something against his own moral code

It’s the way sonic raised him and it’s the way tails lives his life.

I think the headcanons mostly just ‘survival instinct vs moral code’ and I think that’s why people like it so much, it’s less about tails being reliant on sonic (which is what I think it’s being misinterpreted as) and more Tails respecting the way sonic raised him and the moral code he was raised to believe in to not forget it even in the heat of a battle

I apologise if I'm blunt, but you're missing the forest for the trees with all this.

This post wasn't really about Tails' willingness to use weapons. Rather, it was about fans' penchant for infantilizing Tails to the point of exaggeration, despite him showing capabilities even before Sonic showed up in his life. Tails has been enriched by Sonic, he's even said as much, but there was never an indication in the games that he would become a psychopath without him.

It removes too much agency on Tails' part for the sake of leaning too hard on Sonic's ability to affect others around him. No amount of headcanons and "well, he is a kid"-style justifications can salvage Tails straight up being done dirty. Rationalizing it is all very well in the realm of fanfiction, but not so much when dealing with the official work proper, when everything has already came, went, and influenced fandom mentality for the worse.

#Crusher's Asks #Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog #Miles Tails Prower

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Discipline

Series masterlist

Part five

Summary: Jake is sent to teach you discipline within the rules of the Omaticaya, from which you are constantly rebelling. Except...he finds unorthodox methods that get you to behave.

Warnings: SMUT!!! Mean!Jake again because I love him. Degradation, little bit of praise. Daddy kink. Dacryphilia. Rough, rough, rough sex. I don't wanna spoil anything, so that's it babes! Happy reading!

Special shoutout to @touchedflowers for the little kiss detail!! And to the anon that gave me the idea of reader trailing after Jake for all the attention be gives her!! Ily babes!! I hope my writing lives up to your expectations!! ❤️❤️❤️

Jake knows. He knows he fucked up. His lust took over, his mind hazy from you begging for his cock, and he just made tsaheylu. And what's worse, you caved. Maybe part of him was hoping you'd deny him, maybe he was looking for a sign that you didn't want him like he wanted you.

Instead, you just confirmed all his hopes and fears and dreams and—

You were now his.

And Jake can't think of anything else.

He'll wake up from his sleep, sweating and shaking, his cock hard at the ghost sensation of your pleasure through the bond that haunts him in his sleep. He can hear you moaning in his ear, can feel your soft pussy around his cock, can feel your body underneath his.

He's jacked off too many times to the memory of you calling him daddy, to the way you begged for him, to how you'd said it hurts and pleaded for him to help you.

You're driving him crazy. You've had an obvious effect on him, and it's on display for everyone to see.

And what's more, you've been clearly affected by him as well. You're much more tame now. Much more calm. Much kinder.

But...only around him. And, lately, you'd been around him much more often.

You follow him around like a lost puppy. Whenever he sits somewhere, whenever he goes somewhere, you're there. And everyone sees it.

But only Jake knows why it is.

And it stirs something primal in him, something almost dangerous from how intense and powerful it is.

He gets used to it, looks forward to your presence. Wherever he is, he unconsciously looks for you. Whenever you aren't around, he can't focus on anything but you, you, you and your whereabouts, you and your big doe eyes and your plump lips and—

He even starts dragging you along. Everywhere he goes, he'll look for you and take you with him. In the smallest things, like a visit to the stream to bathe, or even during big hunts, he'll have you by his side.

And the rest of the clan assume it's his way of integrating you into the people.

Au contraire, it's his way of showing them you are his.

Ever since the night of the celebration, you've been all Jake can think about. It's been days since he's actually taken you out to train, just the two of you, and the need to fuck you is invading his senses.

So on a rainy afternoon where Jake finds you beading together a few bracelets, he decides he needs you here and now.

“Girl,” Jake calls as he approaches you, his amber eyes predatory.

You turn to him, eyes big, pupils wide, ears pinning back against your head. “Jake,” you say softly, and he can hear your heart racing, can smell your excitement.

“It's been too long since you've shot a few arrows,” he tells you as you put the bracelets in a small basket. “I hope your aim's improved.”

You rise to your feet, tail swinging from side to side with anticipation, and follow him into the forest.

He finds a small spot, hidden under a few trees, the ground soft and mossy, perfectly secluded and private.

Jake hands you the bow he'd had hung around his chest, a single arrow in the quiver.

You take the weapon, gaze soft and careful as you watch him.

He nods at a small tree, the trunk thin, a difficult target. “You've got one chance to hit it,” he informs you. “'f you miss it, you'll be punished.”

Your ears fall back, face softly contorting into concentration and you nod. You poise the arrow, pull it back, and take a deep breath as you aim the sharp tip.

Jake studies your pose. Flawless. Your elbows at the perfect height, back straight, muscles tensed and strong. Jake knows you'll hit the tree without an issue. You've perfected your stance. But you're still not able to manage distractions, and he's here to train you, after all.

So what better to do than distract you the best way he knows how?

Jake's fingers, thick and calloused, caress your lower thigh, sliding up to the plush flesh of your ass. You jerk slightly, gait faltering as Jake's body presses against your back.

“The arrow, girl,” he reminds you as his hand slides between your thighs, reaching your folds and tracing a finger up your slit. He's quick to latch his thumb onto your clit, circling it with practiced perfection.

“Right,” you murmur, aiming carefully, doing your best to ignore Jake's fingers as one slides into you, making you gasp softly.

You aim. Aim. Aim...

Jake's finger curls inside of you, relishing in the sensation of your growing arousal as you begin to drip on his fingers.

Eyes fluttering shut, you release the arrow. Hoping, praying, begging...

You hear the arrow land on its target, the sharp tip sinking into the wood with ease.

Jake raises an eyebrow, impressed. “You lucky thing,” he chuckles as you drop the bow to the ground and lean back against his body. Jake's other hand moves to your waist, caressing the skin there, wandering up the center of your torso to your breasts.

“Be honest with me, girl,” he says. “Did y'aim or was it luck, huh?”

You giggle softly, braid itching with the need to make tsaheylu with him again. “Was both,” you admit quietly.

He chuckles. “Mhmm, I thought as much.” He licks up the side of your neck, tasting the salty skin, inhaling your rich, earhty scent. “Still,” he says. “You hit the target. And imma reward you f'r it, girl.”

“Please,” you reply, breathless. “Daddy, please.”

Jake groans at the way you say it, his cock stiffening. “Fuck, y'know I can't say no when y'ask so nicely, baby.”

Jake pulls his fingers out of you. “Please, Daddy. Please, please.”

“Easy, girl,” he says, voice rough as he leads you to lie on your back, ensuring to place you on the soft mossy ground. He climbs on top of you, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. His hands trace your skin, committing it to memory, fingers savoring the sensation of your soft body beneath his.

His lips reach your lower stomach, the edge of your loincloth, and he looks up at you.

Jake is quick to discover how much he loves looking up at your body like this. Your stomach rising and falling with heavy breaths, your breasts slightly exposed, nipples peeking between the beads of your top.

He kisses your inner thighs, nipping at the skin, groaning every time you gasp and squeal. His hands expertly undo your loincloth and he tosses it aside.

His large hands push your thighs apart, spreading your legs so he can admire your cunt, already wet for him. He leans his face toward your center, breathing in your scent, before he softly blows air on your clit.

You mewl softly, one of your hands falling to Jake's head, grabbing onto his hair. “Daddy,” you whine, big eyes glancing down at him.

“Yeah, I know what y'want,” Jake chuckles. “Relax. Be patient for me, girl. Yeah?”

You groan, nodding. “M'kay.”

Jake runs his tongue between your folds, tasting you, that primal thing within him growling in pleasure.

Mine, he thinks to himself. Mine, mine, all mine.

And then he's eating you out, tongue maneuvering into your entrance before wandering up to your clit and flicking against it. You whine and shake, hips rolling against his face, one hand digging into Jake's hair as the other one digs into the soft soil beneath.

Jake sucks on your clit, making you jerk, before he sucks your folds, his eyes glancing up at your face to cherish your reaction.

“Daddy,” you whimper, thighs spread wide, legs quaking. “Fuck!”

Jake is delighted with the way you react. He loves to see your eyes roll into the back of your head, loves the way your body writhes, loves how you recoil from the immense pleasure.

He's made you cry enough from being too rough and too mean. He wonders if he can make you cry from overstimulation.

Jake angles his face so that his tongue slips into you, caressing your cunt from the inside while his nose finds your clit. He's drowning in the feeling of you, in the scent and the taste of your pussy, in the sensation of your thighs tight around his head, in the digging of your nails into his scalp.

And the sounds you make. Fucking God, you're going to be the end of him.

Every little whimper, every whine, every mewl, every moan—they're all quick to fall from your lips, little sounds of pleasure that continously grow louder the more he keeps going. And the little pleads you beg—

“Daddy, Daddy please!”

“There! Daddy, there!”

“'s too much, Daddy. Please, 's too much!”

And he wishes he could talk to you back, wishes he could chuckle into your ear and whisper, “Say that again, girl. Daddy can't hear ya when you moan over your words.” Wishing he could see your face redden with embarrassment, wishing he could get you even more flustered by teasing and mocking you, but his mouth is too occupied on your pussy right now, and he doesn't plan on letting up any time soon.

Your taste is sweet, a mix of the flowers you're surrounded by daily and the essence of you. That unmistakable, unique thing that identifies you. As Jake tastes it on his tongue, he thinks of your big eyes, your delicate hands, your long eyelashes, your pouting lips, your ears folded back in submission...He thinks of his girl, his girl and everything she is and everything he likes about her.

Everything he likes about you. That's what comes to his mind when he tastes you.

“Mm! Daddy!” you gasp, your orgasm coiling low in your stomach. “Fuck! Ah, Daddy, please!”

Jake's hands are on your thighs, his fingers roughly massaging the flesh there as he keeps his eyes on your face. He knows you're close; the way your slick is coating his lips and his chin is tell-tale enough for how near your orgasm is.

He is eating you out. Sucking on your skin, licking all over, nuzzling his nose into your clit, biting you where he can, groaning and gasping. And the way your back arches and the way you moan and your shaking limbs have him gyrating his hips against the ground, looking for any amount of release from the tight arousal that stings through his hard cock.

You can feel your orgasm take over your body, white-hot hands gripping at every single one of your nerves, pushing you to the very limit and then crashing you down into an ocean of ecstasy.

You cry out, body trembling as the pleasure slowly dissipates, the intensity of your orgasm weakening you.

But Jake keeps going. Like a starved man, like he's never had a meal such as your cunt, like he'll never be able to do it again. He tastes your orgasm as it gushes out of you, and it only makes him more feral.

He swallows every last drop of your slick, feeling it dribble down his chin and down his neck, loving how it glistens on his swollen lips and on his cheeks.

Your hips pull away from his mouth as he continues his attack on your cunt. “No, no, 's too much, Daddy. Please, no!” you beg, trying to push him off of you, but your strength has been stolen by your orgasm, and, anyway, Jake is stronger than you, so it's no issue for him to hold you down as he continues with his meal.

You're quick to go under, the pleasure too much for you to deny, and you can feel another orgasm building within you.

“No, no,” you're begging, but you don't really mean it. You really, really want him to keep going, even if your body feels like it'll split in two if you come again. “Daddy!”

Jake pulls away from you for a second, replacing his mouth with one of his hands to snap, “Shut it, slut. Daddy knows what's good for ya, and he's doin' it. Y'either take all of it or y'won't get anything. Understand?”

You mewl, wiggling your hips against Jake's hand. “Yes! Yes, Daddy!”

Satisfied, Jake returns his mouth to your pussy, your taste making him groan. He could do this all day, he decides. He literally would never get tired of eating you out. Your taste, your scent, the feel of you beneath him, they're things he'll never get enough of. Not now that he's gotten a taste.

Your second orgasm washes over you much faster than the first, and with double the strength. It wrecks you and whatever was left of your working mind. You cannot pronounce a word other than daddy as you come down from your high.

You're seeing starts, little black dots adorning your vision, and you can barely register the feeling of Jake's lips still going down on your puffy cunt.

The man is incessant. Famished. His enthusiasm and lust not even close to having had enough of you. He doesn't think he'll ever have enough of you.

As you struggle to recover from your orgasm, your body slowly realizes that the unbearable pleasure is still being delivered to your abused pussy, and you whimper, throwing your head back.

“'s too much! Too much! Too much!” you whine, tears glistening on the corners of your eyes. “Daddy, please, I can't 'nymore!” you cry, but make no move to push him off of your pussy.

Jake's hips are rutting into the ground right now, and he's groaning and grunting at the little amount of friction against his stiff cock and swollen balls. The sounds send vibrations up your spine, causing your back to arch and your muscles to go taut.

“I can't!” you cry, sobbing, tears spilling down your cheeks and to the ground below. “Daddy, I-I can't! Can't! I'm—'s too much! I can't!”

But Jake knows you can. He knows you have it in you. He just has to coax it out.

He rubs his hands over your lower stomach, over your womb, applying precise pressure and massaging the soft flesh.

It's something about the way he does it, something about the way he looks at you while he does, something about the way he pushes down onto your womb that makes you gasp and shudder, your eyelids fluttering shut as another orgasm rips through you, faster than the first two, and much more intense as well.

And when Jake keeps going, when he refuses to give up, it happens. You squirt all over his face, soaking yourself in the process, having a fourth consecutive orgasm that leaves you shaking.

It's exactly what Jake wanted. He finally unlatches his mouth from your abused cunt, licking over his lips, using the back of his hand to wipe your slick from his face.

You're breathing is crazy uneven, cut into choppy gasps because of your sobs as tears streak down your face.

“I knew you could do it,” Jake tells you, grinning, as he kisses your lower stomach. “Did y'like it, girl?”

You nod, still crying, still shaking. “Yes, Daddy. So good,” you reply, sniffing. “So good.”

Jake chuckles. “'nd you said it was too much. Clearly, it wasn't the case, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you reply, opening your eyes, glancing at him.

Jake smirks at you. While you watch, he removes his loincloth, revealing his hard cock, the tip a dark blue stained with dripping precum. He doesn't miss the look of excitement that crosses over your features at the sight.

Jake runs the head of his cock up between your swollen folds, gathering your slick, shuddering at how warm and wet you are.

You hum, legs spreading wider as he aligns himself with your entrance.

Jake thrusts into you roughly, positioning himself on top of you as he fucks you. You whine, wrapping your legs around Jake's waist, eyelashes wet with your tears.

Jake's cock slides in and out of you with ease, the thick, bulbous head kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“Daddy,” you whimper, hands rising to hold onto his arms, nails digging into his muscles. “Daddy.”

“What d'y'want, girl?” he questions, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, licking over your racing pulse. “I know y'well enough. I know y'want somethin'. C'mon, spit it out. What 's it?”

“Kiss me, Daddy,” you beg, body trembling with each thrust. “Daddy, will you kiss me, please?”

Jake's taken aback for a second, his ears folding back against his head. “What?” he asks, unsure if he heard you right.

You're oblivious to his confusion. “Kiss. Kiss. Please, Daddy.”

“Y'want me to kiss you?”

“Mhmm! Please, Daddy! Kiss!”

And, fuck, if Jake's heart doesn't flutter at the request.

But kissing you...it's something so personal. So tender, so sweet. It's something that promises something beyond lust, something beyond you just being his plaything. If he kisses you...if he kisses you like you want him to...

It'll fuck things even more, he thinks. It'll push me too far down the rabbit hole. Haven't I fallen deep enough?

Oh, but the look in your eyes, your gentle demeanor, the way you've been following him around these past few days.

The way he's needed you at his side these past few days...

One kiss won't hurt anyone, he figures. It's just a kiss.

He knows that's a lie as he lowers his mouth to yours, his veins swimming with excitement, and he ghosts his lips over your own. You gasp, back arching, little breaths escaping your parted lips.

And then he kisses you. His mouth crashes down against yours, tongue parting your lips to wander into your mouth. He licks over your tongue, savors your spit, and then drags his sharp teeth over your lower lip.

You're delighted. You whine and gasp, body trembling.

Jake swallows all of your moans, your sounds muffled by his kiss, your body on the brim of pleasure.

You're tight around Jake's cock, making him weak. And the tighter you clench around him, the more he drags against the spongy spot within you that you love so much. It's not long before you're quivering, your little whimpers rolling onto Jake's tongue.

Jake smiles through the pleasure, you can feel his grin against your mouth. “Goddamn,” he grunts. “You're too tight, sweet. Gotta relax a little f'r me, yeah?”

You sigh, attempting to loosen around Jake, but the feeling of his lips on yours, his cock stretching you...fuck, it's too difficult to focus.

“Relax,” he repeats, kissing the tip of your nose, your jaw. “Shh, it's okay. Relax, girl.”

He caresses the side of your face gently, pushing your hair out of your face. He kisses your lips tenderly, slowing his thrusts, admiring the way you tremble underneath him.

At that, you loosen up slightly. And Jake takes the chance and he begins pounding into you. You squeal at the sudden increase in pace and force, nails dragging over his arms, as tears start prickling the corners of your eyes again.

“Atta girl,” Jake grunts. “Yeah, you're so good. Such a good little slut.”

You moan. “Daddy! Daddy—tsaheylu! Please, fuck, please let's make tsaheylu,” you beg as your queue itches with the need to feel Jake's tendrils.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “You want to?”

“So bad, Daddy!” you complain. “Need y'so bad!”

Jake chuckles as he pauses his thrusts. He reaches over his shoulder for his braid and you struggle to grab yours.

“Can y'beg for me, girl?” he asks, holding his queue out for you, almost tempting you with it. “Can you beg Daddy to give you what you want?”

You whimper. “Daddy! Please, tsaheylu! I need to feel you, Daddy. Please! I need it s'bad! Fuck!”

Jake runs his nose up the side of your neck. “You wanna say aloud who you belong to, girl? Wanna remind me whose slut you are?”

“Yours, Daddy!” you gasp, eagerly. “I'm all yours! I'm your whore, your slut! Please, Daddy! Gimme-gimme tsaheylu! I need you, please!”

Jake chuckles, meeting your braid with his, allowing the tendrils to connect.

You gasp, whining, eyes widening and pupils dilating. Jake softly bites your jaw and demands, “What do you say when daddy gives you what you asked for?”

“Thank you,” you moan. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“Yeah, that's right,” Jake says as he continues his thrusting. “Daddy treats you like the spoiled brat you are, doesn't he? Daddy gives you ev'rything y'ask for. Aren't you gonna thank me for that, too?”

“Yes!” you whine, back arching, toes curling. “Yes! Fuck! Thank you, Daddy! F'r everything! For giving me what I want!”

“Thank me for treating you like the whore you are,” he orders, dragging his hips against yours, ensuring he rubs your gummy walls in all the ways you like.

“Daddy! Thank you for treating me like the whore I am!” you whimper, eyes fluttering, lower stomach clenching.

“Thank me for giving you my cock,” he instructs, kissing your neck, licking your jaw. His thrusts are merciless, almost cruel. He bruises your insides, relishes in the way you wince as the pleasure becomes too much.

“Thank you for giving me Daddy's cock!” you moan, helplessly trying to match the movement of your hips to his mean thrusts.

“Thank me for making you mine,” he says, groaning as you bite his collarbone. He can feel your ecstasy through the bond, can feel how close you are to another orgasm.

“Thank you, Daddy, for making me yours! For making me your whore!” you oblige, shaking from head to toe.

“Thank me in advance for making you come, yeah?” he tells you, your whimpers and trembling body giving you away.

“Daddy! Daddy, thank you for making me come!” you gasp, the pleasure too much, the connection with Jake too much. “Fuck! Like that! Oh, fuck!”

As Jake keeps his pace steady and kisses your lips again, you finally come. Quivering and crying, your fifth orgasm crashes you, leaving you breathless, truly fucked dumb.

Jake's hips stutter as you tighten around him, his orgasm rising to the surface. He delights in how wet you are, in the sounds of your pussy as he fucks into it.

“Fuck, Daddy, y're s'good!” you gasp. “Oh, please, come inside of me. Fill me with your cum! Please, Daddy!” you beg.

“Ah, fuck!” Jake grunts, his cum spilling into you. White, hot, thick ropes that taint your skin and make you shudder. “Fuck, I love this pussy,” he mumbles against your ear, placing little kisses all over your face.

He's about to pull out of you when his eyes meet yours and he sees you. Really Sees you. Something about those big, doe eyes. About your swollen lips. About your unsure gaze...

It makes him melt on the inside. Makes him soft and all he wants to do is hold you and protect you and—

No, he won't say that last one. It's too early to say it...

He kisses your tender lips, gently, caringly, and whispers against your mouth, “My perfect girl.”

You let him kiss you, and he doesn't let up. Not for a long while. Not until eclipse approaches and you two have to get back.

Only then does he pull out of you, gets up and dresses you before dressing himself.

You two walk back to the Hometree side by side.

@who-is-ej @jake-sullys-whore @sweetllamaparadise @erenjaegerwifee @kamcrazy123

#avatar jake sully #avatar #avatar fanfiction #jake sully x reader #reader insert #avatar smut #jake sully #fanfic #jake sully smut #jake sully fluff #dilf jake sully #x reader #female reader #na’vi smut #avatar 2009

[we-were-beautiful]

The Fox and The Hounds pt. 4

A/N: As I live and breath I have finally finished up chapter 4. Sorry that it took so long to get it done. I love these two awkward dog parents. Up next will be my newest Poly!Feysand fic and then the next portion of love and shadows. There is some mention of violence in this one. I will also accept people who want to beta read this for me to help me find silly mistakes that I know I miss. Also all of the photos in the moodboard came from pintertest 

Summary: Its autumn court tradition to give your mate a fox kit before your ceremony. after years of knowing the Vanserra’s a mating bond snaps between the Autumn Heir and a well known smoke hound breeder

Warning: Mentions of violence and Beron being the father of the year  

 WC: 2.6k 

We had winnowed to a cabin deep in the forest of Autumn. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but the beautiful home in front of us was not it. When I had been told of this trip Eris had mentioned that it was his personal hunting cabin not elaborating further than that. Maybe I had been expecting the single room open floor concept cabins that my brothers had for hunting, but this fairy tale cottage nestled in the trees is anything but. The two story cabin is made of stone and dark wood and a porch wraps the whole way around the home. The barking of dogs draws my attention away from the home. All around the small clearing our hounds run freely with one another. I let out a small sigh of relief. We had shared concerns that the hounds wouldn’t get along with each other; however, it seems like they were unfounded. It is endearing to watch them run and play with one another; to watch Ramiel be reunited with one of her pups. Paprika wiggles in my arms to put her down. I gently put her on the forest floor still keeping a tight hold on her leash. I didn’t quite trust that she wouldn't just sprint off into the woods 

“This is my private home.” Eris’ voice pulls my attention back to him. “ I spend my free time here when my presence is not required at the forest house.” 

“It is beautiful, Eris.” and it's the truth, this is the kinda place that mothers tell their babes about when reading bedtime stories. A cottage like this is where a princess would live before being swept away by her prince charming. Eris holds out his arm for me to take. I gently thread my arm through his as he leads me up the walkway. 

“So will this be our main residence after the wedding?” After our mating ceremony. It seemed like a safe question to ask, in all honesty I would rather be here than trapped in the massive forest house and bound to court decorum. The jewels and finery were lovely, but I would much rather be comfortable in working clothes surrounded by my hounds

“Yes, I try to keep out of the forest house as much as possible. I’m there when Father demands it but I want to keep my private life private.” His voice did not waiver. It was no secret that Beron was cruel; he kept a tight hold on the court and an even tighter one on his family. I had unfortunately witnessed this on several occasions when my family had  been summoned to the forest house. One memory had burned into my mind and it was hard to forget it. The high lord had pitted his second born against the youngest, and I think the only thing that stopped them from killing each other had been their mother desperately begging her husband to make them stop. We had only been children at the time. I remember watching in horror, clinging to my own mothers skirts. Eris had stood beside his fathers throne, the vision of the perfect heir. He had been the one to rip the second oldest off of the youngest, but only on his fathers command. 

“I would never subject you to more of that place than absolutely necessary.” His voice pulls me out of my memories. The tension had become so thick between the two of us the silence deafening and uncomfortable. 

“Are there kennels for the hounds?” I asked desperate to break this uncomfortable feeling. 

“I am looking into having some constructed, but honestly I tend to just keep them in the house.” He seemed almost sheepish with his answer, red tinting his cheeks  “But with 20 it may not be the most manageable.” 

“I only ask because I imagine that feeding time is going to be tricky. Not to mention night time routines” I respond unconsciously, taking a step closer to the fiery haired male. “ I honestly would rather keep them in the house, but…” I trailed off. Most families kept their hounds in kennels overnight. They let the beautiful creatures roam the house during the day but come nightfall they put them into kennels. I honestly felt safer having one or two of my hounds in the house with me at night but it wasn't normal.

“It is whatever you wish my mate. If you want kennels built I will have some built; if you are fine with the dogs having free range of the house that is what we will do. This is to be your home and I would have you comfortable. If there is something that needs to be changed, then I will seek to remedy whatever it is.” He seems so much softer now that it is just the two of us. I have seen him be so cruel in our lives, but here and now when it's just the two of us he's a different person. 

“I would rather keep them in the house.” I pause “I feel safer when they are close, and if you get called away I would rather them be here with me.” to keep me safe they were the unspoken words. My hounds could be vicious when threatened, but Eris’ were on a whole different level. I had been grateful when he introduced me to his hounds that they had taken to me. It had been tense at first but by the time I was to leave the forest house I always had one or two of them trailing after me. The thought of having all of them when inevitably I am alone here put my mind at ease. 

“Then in the house they will stay.” I swear that I could see just a hint of a smile forming on his lips as we entered the home. The inside was surprisingly homey, it was a stark contrast to the cold formality of the Forest house. The main living room had two large comfortable looking sofas facing each other; a large overstuffed armchair in a worn brown leather sat facing the  massive stone fireplace. Massive windows lined one wall giving a breathtaking view of the forest behind it, another wall hosted massive bookshelves filled with books.  The coffee table between the two couches was a rustic affair carved of an old massive oak. Dog beds were scattered around the room along with various toys. For this being Eris’ private retreat it looks very well lived in. The whole space was very masculine, but I had a feeling that I could bring my own touch to the place and it would be perfect. I take a seat on one of the couches gathering paprika in lap unclipping her leash as she settles in for cuddles. 

“After the ceremony I figured that you could go through and make any changes to the place that you wish. Or we could travel to town tomorrow?” as he takes a seat on the sofa across from me. 

“I wouldn’t mind going to town. It is very homey here, but we might need to make some adjustments to make it our place.” compromise is what makes a marriage work. We have to work together and make decisions as a team. 

It settled into an awkward silence between the two of us. Neither one of us really knew what to say. It really hit home that this was our first time alone with no chaperones. No  strict parents, no nosy brothers, no courtiers in our business. I feel like I couldn’t move under his gaze; I knew Eris’ reputation. He had been nothing but polite and respectful while we were in public and surrounded by people. That could all change now that we are in private.  A loud crack of thunder broke the silence and I jumped in my seat. 

“We should probably bring in the hounds.” I break the silence and an uneasy laugh escapes me as I turn my eyes to the windows storm clouds rolling in. 

Eris stands up from his chair moving to the double doors, he opens both doors and lets out a long whistle. Within seconds all of the hounds come running into the house; suddenly the house becomes alive with noise with the jingle of tags and the clicks of nails on the hardwood and barking. It is a laughable situation as all 18 trip over one another as they run into the living room.  I feel the cushion next to me dip as one of the 18 dogs hops up next to me; I grimace as I feel a wet tongue lick at my face, I run a hand down the hounds back relishing in the warmth radiating off of its silky fur. 

“The pride of the Autumn court, vicious killers, the lot of you,  tracking down your enemies  with lethal accuracy and ripping them to shreds. And yet you act like puppies.” I laugh as the dog attempts to sit in my lap on top of poor Paprika. The fox kit scurries out of my lap with an indignant yip as the fully grown smoke hound attempts to fit on my lap.  

“Ichabod! Down.” Eris snaps at the dog who had crawled into my lap. Ichabod on the other hand showed absolutely no signs of moving. I laugh and wrap my arms around the hound.

“He’s fine Eris.” I rest my chin on Ichabod, giving him scratches “He’s just a big baby” 

“Yes, a big baby whom I have seen rip a male  to shreds.” Eris sigs before taking a seat on the opposing couch again shooing away one of the hounds that decided he needed the whole couch. Paprika perks up at the sight of Eris sitting down darting over to take up a seat in his lap since hers was so rudely stolen. He laughs long fingers gently scratching at her soft ears. 

“I’m just glad that your dogs get along with mine and they seem to like me. I would hate to imagine what would have happened if we couldn’t integrate them.” to say that the smoke hounds were territorial was putting it mildly. It wasn’t uncommon for smoke hounds to attack unfamiliar hounds, I had heard horror stories around the court of what could happen when trying to integrate two kennels. It was why Eris and I had taken major precautions after the bond had snapped. We would introduce one or two dogs at a time supervised and on leads at all times. We had finally got to the point last week where we  let all of them out together at the forest house.  

“I would rather not think about that. While I have no doubt in your skills as a breeder, that you could breed a wonderful replacement. I would hate to lose any of our hounds. Yours for their sheer pedigree alone and mine…” he pauses for a second “I raised all of mine, trained them. They work so well together. I can’t fathom what I would do If I lost one” 

Eris loved his hounds just like I love mine. We had bonded over it years ago but to hear him say it was enlightening. It was deeper than I knew before and it warmed me to my core the amount of love this male has for his hounds. I smile at the scene in front of me as Eris is surrounded by three hounds begging for attention as Paprika gets in his face demanding that he pay attention to her. I let out a laugh which caused him to look up at me. Cinnamon eyes met mine. I feel a slight tug on the bond from his end, my eyes widen as a smile grows on his face. The two of us had not really explored the bond since it snapped, there were a few times that I could feel some intense emotion from his end while we were separated and a few times where he had used it to check in on me when we were forced to attend public events. But a solid pull like this neither of us had been brave enough to try. 

“I guess I should give you a tour of the house, not just sit around playing with the hounds.” Eris moved to stand up gently placing Paprika on the floor. 

“A tour would be nice” I nudged Ichabod off my lap. He jumps down to the floor quickly running off to play with another one of the hounds. Eris had moved to stand in front of me offering his hand. I take it and stand. I had never noticed before how warm his hands are; it was almost as if fire  he wielded was coursing through his veins. He moved my hand to rest in the crook of his arm as he led me through the house.

I found myself enjoying this time with him, watching him show off his home…or rather our home. For the most part the cottage was not decorated, a clear sign that a single male had resided here.  One room stuck out to me on the tour; Eris kept an office here. Papers were scattered all over the large oak desk that dominated the room. 

“I apologize for the mess in here.” He seemed almost sheepish. “ I wanted to make sure that I had all of my work done before I came to get you so that I could focus on getting to know you and not  work.”  

It warmed me to hear that he had wanted to make sure that he was able to spend this weekend getting to know me rather than finishing up work. I knew first hand what it was like, my father depending on the workload from the forest house would sometimes end up sequestered in his office for days on end.

“Thank you, I know this whole engagement has been rather hectic. So for you to make the time to get to know me means a lot.” I gently squeezed his arm. 

 “We need all the time we can get because in two weeks we will be bound together.” he solemnly responds “I’d rather know you and at the bare minimum be your friend. We can learn to love each other later.”

He leads me away from the office showing the many guest rooms. They are spartanly decorated with just a bed and nightstand. “You can change these rooms however you please. I had no true need for them and didn’t feel that it was necessary to decorate.

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that. It had been such a male answer, something that I had heard before when Mother and I had visited the Illyrian camps years ago. Seems like males will have similar responses to decorating no matter what court. He stops in front of two closed doors. 

“This will be your room during your stay here.” He opens the door to reveal a cozy looking room. The room is dominated by a large bed centered on the right wall, covered in a deep maroon duvet and cream colored accent pillows. The chest of drawers and night stands were carved out of a rich walnut. Dog beds were scattered across the floor. Some one had put the time in to decorating this room “My mother decorated it for you. If you don't like it we can change it.” 

“No, no. It is perfect Eris.” I am quick to cut him off “I love it” 

“Mother will be glad to hear that. My room is across the hall.” he points to the closed door. He runs a hand through his hair. “I will leave you to get settled. The servants should have dinner ready in a few hours so I will let you rest.” 

I nod and take a step into my room “Thank you Eris.” what I am thanking him for I don’t know  after I close the door I lean against it letting my head fall back. This is going to be an awkward weekend.

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acosf #acofs #acowar #autumn court #the fox and the hounds

[supervivens]

The First Step is Always the Hardest

It's hard to imagine just one day out of your entire existence where you aren't plagued by memories of the past. Not a single day passes where I don't play back memories of my past, happy and sad, but still devastating nonetheless. I wake up every morning in my own bedroom. You would think that this would be a safe space void of memories. But every single atom in that room has a memory attached to it; the bed I was assaulted in more times than I can remember and I didn't even realise, the makeup stand that housed his products and aftershaves, the clothes rack that held his t-shirts and hoodies that I begged for, the photo frames that I ripped down after we split up, and wanted to burn once I realised he had assaulted me. Every part of my bedroom contains memories of him that will never go away. Somedays, I wish that those memories would just disappear, it would make the healing process much easier in theory, wouldn't it? However, I know if I had no memories of the years of pain he subjected then I would have no answers for the life long trauma he has left me with. 

We were in a relationship for almost 2 years, he was my first everything: my first serious boyfriend, my first kiss, my first time. I was a virgin when we met, I'd never kissed a boy before, never even held a boys hand before. So when we met I was so excited because he genuinely seemed interested in me. At first it was amazing, we talked all day everyday, he complimented me everyday, told me how proud he was of me for all my successes and failures, he cycled an hour just so we could meet in-person for the first time. But I still missed the early signs. Even early on in our relationship, before we were even officially together, he would bring up sex constantly, to the point it was a daily conversation. Don't get me wrong, I understand sex is normal and comes hand in hand with most relationships, but I was a virgin and I was terrified of the idea of sex. When we were organising to meet for the first time, he kept bringing up running off somewhere into the woods near where I lived; it was a very dense area of forest and only dog walkers really went in as there was nothing but trees. Every day he would bring up running into the woods and having sex, whether that was against a tree or lay on the ground or sat in his lap. And every day I would have to explain that I didn't want to do that yet as I wasn't ready; this was embarrassing enough that I had to tell my soon to be boyfriend that I didn't want to have sex with him, and even more embarrassing when he would disappear for hours at a time because he was upset with me over it. But this wasn't the end.

Sex became a daily conversation, paragraphs sent to me telling me what he would do when we had sex (on the rare occasions when we did have consensual sex he never lived up to those fantasies), asking for nudes repeatedly even when I told him I was busy or wasn't feeling great. Then about a month into our official relationship, we had planned a hike up into the hills near his home, it was late winter so not many people were out at this point of the year as it was so cold but it was still lockdown so we made do with what we had. About 2 hours before we were due to meet up, he told me he had bought condoms; at first I didn't make the connection and just acted confused and didn't think anything of it. Then he expanded that he had bought a picnic blanket so that we can find somewhere secluded and have sex. I was so scared. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to. But he was my boyfriend and he really liked me and wouldn't hurt me right? He just wants to show me he loves me right? He wants this. So I went on the walk. And I have never been so thankful to the pair of dog walkers who stumbled upon our secluded spot, thus ruining the secret rendezvous he had planned. The whole way home I was relieved in a way I didn't understand. I wish I had thought more about it at the time and walked away whilst I had the chance.

This continued for 2 more months, begging me for sex, saying he was in pain with 'blue balls'; from my understanding now blue balls are real but normally only happen when a man has 'held out' for a long period of time without any relief - whether that is his partner or his own hand. I didn't know this at the time; I thought he was genuinely in such pain and only having sex with me could fix it. It was a few weeks after my birthday that I lost my virginity to him. In the days prior to this, he had told me he was in pain, he was getting bored, telling me about his sex life with his ex-girlfriend, and constant conversations about it. So one day, when my house was empty, I finally agreed to have sex with him. I want to help him right? I'm his girlfriend its what I'm supposed to do right? He wants you, why are you holding out on him? I was so scared I was shaking. I had read online about losing your virginity that morning, and I was prepared for a little pain. I wasn't prepared for the agony that ensued. It felt like I was burning from the inside out, I wanted to cry and scream at the same time, I wanted him to stop and I was pressing against his chest to get him to stop moving and pushing but he kept going saying how much he was enjoying it. I don't know how long I lay there waiting for the pain to stop like the online posts said it would. It never stopped, just eased a little to become bearable. He asked me why I wasn't making any noise or enjoying it like he was. So I started to play the part, acting how he wanted me to so I could please him. The pain started to become unbearable again, so I faked an orgasm so that he would stop. That didn't work, he just kept going, so I lied and said my phone had vibrated and my family must be on their way home. He rapidly got off me, said he wanted a shower and disappeared. I lay there for a while catching my breath wondering what had happened and how I had just lost my virginity. I thought this was normal; the pain, the need to fake an orgasm in the vain hope he would stop, lying about my family coming home so he would get off me. All I could think was, no that's not how it went! Stop thinking like that! He loves you and you helped his pain and, remember, he loves you. He was enjoying it so much that's why he didn't stop. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. At the time, all I could think was, 'is this really what love is?'. I didn't know any different.

I didn't know what coercive rape meant until 9 months ago. And now I know what it means, I know I am not a victim. I hate the word victim - I am a survivor, not a victim. The word victim doesn't fit with me because it conflicts with my thoughts. I consented didn't I? Yes he begged and begged and wouldn't stop talking about it? NO. Consent is not valid if you have to be begged to agree. Consent is valid when you WANT to continue from the second the conversation starts and can be withdrawn at any moment. It isn't an 'I don't know' or 'I'm not sure', it's not a 'you'll change your mind when you see how good it is'. No means no. My no meant no. Your no meant no.  But I let mine become a false yes because of his desperation to have sex, and I regret that to this day because it has left me with so many mental and physical scars that I'm scared to let anyone see. But it was not my fault. It was not your fault. It is not anyones fault but his. 

So I am sharing my story with you, in the hopes that not only will I start to heal, but to also show you that you are not alone. This is only a small part of my story, an introduction you might say. But I am determined to share my story to those who will listen; the more I stay quiet, the more we stay quiet, the more power they gain. I will not let them have anymore power over me. Over us.

I am taking back control of my life. 

This is my first step. 

And I hope to bring you along for the journey.

#say no #surviving abuse #surviving trauma #rapeawareness

[lovebillyhargrove]

Harringrove seasons au

This year's summer has most certainly been a hot one. However, the two weeks in the middle of August? Absolutely unbearable. A heat wave is scorching the earth with rays of unrelenting and merciless sun. Not a single raindrop is seen falling from the sky. Every living creature is suffering from boiling hot weather, caught up in the sweltering haze. Even night time doesn't bring any relief. There are no winds, everything is at a standstill and slowly withering.

Billy's enraged. And bitter.

He doesn't want to go. He stubbornly wishes to stay.

If he is in anguish, then everything and everyone must hurt.

One day it becomes too much for Steve. He finds Billy sitting on a sandy beach near the river, which has grown so shallow you can walk across it with water just up to your knees. He is striking two firestones against each other, watching sparks fall on the sand. Good thing he's not doing it close to the woods.

"Hi, Billy. Got a minute to talk?"

Billy is still striking the stones, doesn't even look up. Steve sees how his lips are twisted, and his eyebrows furrowed. Like a little child who is trying to hold back tears.

"Don't you think it is time to stop this torture? Why does everything around have to suffer?"

In a flash, Billy's standing up and lunging at Steve, so suddenly, that Steve takes a step back and involuntarily extends his hand forward.

It burns his skin, the heat, the blaze.

Billy is in flames, and Steve must be careful.

"You are going to burn my dry leaves and moss down. Easy, summer. Let us put out this fire, it is not doing any good. Calm down and listen."

Steve's deep voice becomes magical, like the sound of whispering wind rustling the leaves on top of every tree and reaching into the depth of the forest.

"We are eternal. We say good bye, but we are destined to meet again. Just think how beautiful it is. And when you are gone, I will think of you, and I will miss you. It is such a light and crystal clear sadness, when you genuinely miss someone. It makes the air around you ring, like hundreds of bells, delicately chiming. It makes your heart sing, in a different, in a lovely way. It is soul-warming, this kind of sorrow. Think of the joy we will feel when we see each other again. You don't have to fight it, Billy."

Steve opens his arms and Billy dives into the embrace, his flames gone. Sparkly tears start rolling down his cheeks, bringing peace to his fiery soul,

And the rain finally falls.

All credit for creating this divine au belongs to @akioukun ❤️

However, people took it and people ran with it. Whichever direction 🙈

#harringrove #harringrove seasons au #billy x steve #summer billy x autumn steve

[stories-from-the-shaded-moon]

Golden

I know there are better fics out there with this same concept, but you know what? I…kinda care…BUT NOT REALLY. I write what I want, when I want to because-

Anyway-

It was Time’s turn to gather firewood. Unsurprisingly, Twilight’s Hyrule had plenty of forests and trees and fog.

Time hummed and picked up sticks as he walked aimlessly, his mind buzzing with what he could write in his next letter to Malon. He can talk about the people at Twilight’s home, Ordon. He could also talk about the giant mechanic beasts from Wild’s Hyrule. They had spawned near one the last time around, and Wild hadn’t minded talking about them.

So, that was two things. The third paragraph always went to how much he missed waking up beside her.

That would make a full letter…

There was a crack in the forest he walked through. Something or someone stepped on a branch not even fifteen paces away. Time’s own movements stopped as he waited to hear more footsteps.

He did, and it wasn’t only one set of footsteps. It was an army of them.

A lump caught in his throat. He’d been walking out at least thirty minutes now. Half dilly-dallying, half doing his job. That’s a lie. He was ninety-eight percent in his head and the other two percent looking for firewood. He only had four twigs in his arms…

Time dropped the twigs in his arms and whistled as loud as he could. At the same time, monsters emerge from the cover of the trees. Bokos, Moblins, Lizals. He was heavily outnumbered.

Time unsheathed the Biggoron sword and started swinging.

One, five, twelve. They fell like clockwork, but there were more and more coming in their place. No matter how many he killed, it was like they were respawning.

He got tired quickly. Too quickly for his liking yet, he swung with as much stubbornness as he could muster. Besides, he knew that the boys had to have heard him whistle. They always did.

Time shifted his weight into a desperate spin attack. It cleared only inches. He swung again, this time, he noticed how his blade wielded him and not vice versa. That realization got him another cut to his side.

He grunted, swinging his claymore and killing the bokoblin. However, he was stabbed in his arm. His left arm.

His sword fell out of his grasp. It even surprised him. He was stronger than this.

That was when he heard a howl. Then the screeches of monsters. Then the tearing apart of bones.

The monsters had came out of their daze too soon. They started swinging at Time again. He defended himself with roundhouse kicks and head butts. He couldn’t feel his left arm. Though, on occasion, he’d use his right arm for a punch or to make a monster a shield for him.

Soon, the hoard began to thin out. That was when Time saw the wolf. It wasn’t Wolfie, it was a golden wolf with a single red eye and a scar over his right eye.

Time was stabbed in his thigh. An angered groan escaped his throat as he used that same leg to stomp on another monster.

Time turned around to kill the last monster, a Lynel and met a sword two inches from his face. He wouldn’t be able to dodge it or block it. He would-

The wolf closed its jaws around that monster’s neck. The centaur roared and thrashed around. Time heard the wolf whine while it was attached to the thrashing half-horse.

Time spotted his sword and picked it up with his right hand. With one definitely not graceful diagonal slash, the Lynel’s head came off.

Time dropped his sword as the adrenaline started to wear off. The wolf nudged his injured thigh. Time cursed, his legs giving out and him falling onto the grass.

That was when the wolf howled. It was louder than the one from before. In the distance, he heard another howl. One that was familiar.

So they did hear his whistle?

The wolf laid down next to Time, its head resting on his not injured leg. Time looked down at the wolf’s red eye. He reached down to touch its golden fur, but it growled. Time retracted his hand.

“Who are you?” It was obvious to Time that this was no normal wolf. Maybe it was some light spirit. Maybe it was a person hidden in a dark world form, like Twilight’s Wolfie.

Time traced the scar on the wolf’s face with his eyes. It felt familiar, almost like it would spark deja vu.

The distant howling became louder and soon, a black wolf, followed by three heroes breached the tree’s covering.

Hyrule kneeled at Time’s side, his hand already glowing. “Why did you go out so far?!”

“I could ask the same thing,” the Captain said, his voice embroidered with disappointment. It made Time groan.

“And what happened?” Sky asked, surveying the area.

“Monster hoard was quieter than they usually are, but I friend helped me out,” Time slightly smiled at the golden wolf who was probably asleep right now.

Black pixels caught the periferal of Time’s vision. Where the wolf once stood was Twilight. He had a forced smile. “Well, sorry for not being that wolf.”

Time waved it off, his mind asking him why Twilight was forcing an enotion. “Don’t worry about it! I think that we should keep him!”

Twilight visibly jumped. “Keep…him…?”

“Exactly. You sound like a child,” Warriors brought his hands up and started flapping them like a bird. “Can we keep it?” He mocked Time.

Time laughed and put his uninjured arm on the wolf’s head to pet it. Its red eye opened and it growled. Then, it landed on Twilight and in a flash, the wolf was gone, vanishing into golden power that disapated in the wind.

“Huh,” Time hummed. “Magic wolf. I see.”

“Um…” Sky shuffled on his feet. “Hyrule?”

“Almost done,” Everyone could see the sweat starting to bead on tge Traveler’s forehead.

“I’ll carry the Traveler,” Warriors put his sword back in its sheath. Time hadn’t realized it was out in the first place. That was when he realized that Sky also had his sword out.

“He’ll probably end up passing out from blood loss soon.”

What?

“I can carry him,” Twilight announced.

Time saw a crow sitting in a tree nearby. He fought the words that wanted to come out of his mouth, but he lost.

“Why would a scarecrow win an award?” Time cackled at the start of his own joke. All four of the heroes looked at him like he had a fourth eye.

“He was outstanding in his field!“

“Yeah,” Hyrule said. “Blood loss.”

In truth, he was fine in the head. The boys just let him sleep more if he was delirious enough to tell stupid jokes.

“What are the strongest days of the week?”

“Time, please-“

“Saturday and Sunday. All of the others are weekdays,” Time laughed at the annoyed faces the boys made. At least this meant more sleep.

#the shady lad writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe time #lu time #linked universe fanfic #linked universe hyrule #linked universe sky #linked universe twilight #linked universe wolfie #linked universe warriors #Heroes Shade #my skeleton husband

[hylias-library]

Thank you!💖💖💖

This came to me in a dream! I hope you like what I thought of😊✨️

[Navigation]

You had stopped at an Inn for the day. The Hyrule you currently were in was unknown, and upon asking around, it seemed to be a peaceful period of time.

No one knew about a hero or a princess or any evil in general. The villagers didn't even know what monsters were.

The group, including you, had tried to gather as much information as you could during the morning. But as you met up at the Inn again, you quickly realized that there wasn't anything useful to know.

Following Time's orders, you'd be spending the rest of the day here and keep traveling once the sun rose tomorrow morning.

"Well, that was a waste of time." Legend complained as he searched around in one of his many pouches, pulling out a few items shortly after.

You stretched your arms over your head, making a few joints pop in the process. "At least we've got the rest of the day off, Vet. You're way too pessimistic."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He waved you off, strolling into the Inn, probably to catch up on a few hours of sleep. Sky, Time, Warriors, and Twilight following him into the building.

Meanwhile, Hyrule, Wild, and Wind seemed to prepare for some more exploring, always hungry for new adventures.

But one of them was missing. With your brows knit together, you gave the area a once over, looking for Four.

Having done a complete 360, you jumped, a yelp leaving your lips, when you found him standing directly behind you, a grin spread over his features.

"FOUR. By Farore's grace. You scared the living daylights out of me!" Heaving out a heavy sigh, you placed a hand over your chest, feeling your racing heart calm back sown slowly.

His grin turned slightly guilty, before the excitement seeped back in. "I'm sorry it wasn't my intention to scare you. This is just the perfect opportunity for something I've been wanting to do for a while."

You raised a brow with a questioning expression. "Perfect opportunity for what?"

"Come on! I gotta show you something!" Four practically vibrated in excitement, catching your wrist and pulling you along, away from the village towards the forest.

"Four, where are you taking me?" You couldn't hide the giggle in your voice. The young hero's good mood was simply too contagious.

Four just shushed you with a smirk, leading you towards a little clearing within the trees. He looked around a little before squatting down in front of a little tree stump.

"Cone here!" He waved you over, his hands now closed around something.

You eyed him suspiciously. "You're not gonna throw a bug at me, are you?"

"Who do you take me for? I'm not Wind." He snorted and kept on beckoning you over. "It’s nothing bad. I promise."

Huffing air out of your nose, you smiled and approached Four, who now held one hand out for you to take. You gently laid your hand into his, letting him pull you down on his level.

Upon taking a closer look, you audibly gasped, only making Four smile even more.

"So you can see them?" He asked, holding his cupped hands out towards you.

Wide-eyed, you stared at the little creature in his palm. It somewhat resembled a mouse with its tiny stature and small button eyes.

Reaching out a single finger, you carefully neared the tiny animal. It stuck out his little paws, taking your finger, sniffing on it.

A breathless giggle left your lips. "What is it? I've never seen something like this." Your eyes found his, filled with wonder.

"This is a Minish." He let the creature hop into your palm to let you admire it further. "Only good people can see them."

"Wow..." You were at a loss of words. "Four, I don't know what to say." Your gaze caught his yet again, a gentle smile on your features. "Thank you for showing me. They’re amazing."

Four cleared his throat to get your attention again. "I could get us some food, and we could stay here until sunset?" A hopeful gleam in his eyes.

You nodded excitedly. "Thst would be great."

You waved him off and gave the tiny Minish in your palms your undivided attention. It was adorable, pawing at your fingertips, playing with it when you wiggled one finger, catching it with its tiny hands.

When Four came back he almost dropped the bag with the food he had gotten.

Right there. In the middle of the small forest cleaning, you sat, surrounded by Minish.

They were in the grass next to you, in your lap, on your palms, even on your head. Some hid inside your hair and atop your shoulders while you giggled, wiggling your fingers at some of them.

With the way the sunlight hit you just right, you looked ethereal.

Four audibly gulped when your gazes met. You smiled brightly at him. "Four! Welcome back! Look! When you left, so many Minish came out! Oh, they're wonderful!"

"No, you are..." He whispered so you couldn't hear and placed his bag down, sitting mext to you, cross-legged. As soon as he sat, some Minish instantly migrated toward him.

You ate together, sharing a good portion with the small creatures around you until you were so full you didn't want to move anymore.

Leaning your head onto Four's shoulder, you observed how the Minish interacted with each other.

"Thank you for showing me this, Link."

His arm wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing a little, a gentle smile stetching across his lips. "It was my pleasure."

This was what you could only describe as the perfect day.

Cuddling with the one dear to you, surrounded by newfound, little friends.

#lu #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu four #linked universe four #lu four x reader #linked universe four x reader #linked universe x reader

[heavenlyartistcloud]

THIS CHARACTER WAS ORIGINALLY MADE BY @DeadlyPenny BUT SINCE SHE LEFT THE FANDOM I WAS GIVEN FULL OWNERSHIP OF THIS CHARACTER.

—————————————————————————————————————

PERSONAL INFORMATION (Daisy)

Name: Daisy

Last name [Unknown]

Nicknames: Daisy, Bo peep, big sis, wimp

Age: immortal

Birthday: 02/19 (first day of spring)

Gender: Female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: heterosexual

Height: 153cm (5ft)

Relationship status: Single

Personality: Daisy is a sweet innocent soul she is kind and caring in every way possible she likes to take care and help others around her, Daisy is a sensitive girl she is also pretty naive, Daisy has no bad intentions and she always says things from her deep within her soft and sweet heart.

Likes: kids, flowers, sweets, baking, cakes, strawberry and blueberry pastries, lam lamb, bows, the color blue

Dislikes: Abusers of any kind

PERSONAL INFORMATION (lam lamb)

Name: Lam lamb

Former name: Zaka (Za-ka)

Age: immortal (probably in his 3000’s)

Nicknames: Minster sheep, Lam, Lamb, Bon bon (Daisy), demon sheep, creature from hell

Gender: Male

Birthday: 12/21 (first day of winter)

Personality: Lam is an evil and malicious creature and dose not care for anyone but Daisy, Lam hates slenderman and his proxies but he helps them out because of Daisy who always keeps his sanity intact. When lam is around Daisy he’s in his normal cute lamb form but when someone try’s to hurt her he will turn into a huge monster shodow creature with the lust of blood and human flesh that will do nothing but destroy anything in his and Daisy’s way. Lam has huge emotional attachment issues to Daisy and if she’s not near he would go in a great state of stress and anxiety.

ORIGIN STORY:

It was a beautiful morning of spring the flowers were blooming and the sun was casting a beautiful shine, but near the beautiful flower field was a huge forest it was dark and anyone who went in never came back well at least not without a missing limb, this were the slenderman forest where thousands and even millions of people would go missing specially kinds and teenagers. Someone running and crying could be heard from miles away is sounded like a woman a young one at least, the young lady ran and ran getting caught in trees and tripping over rocks but even though her aun she kept running until she tripped hitting her knee badly to the point it bled the girls name was Daisy a young lady from very far away she had ran from her home, Daisy fell to the floor with a loud thug she went to stand up but couldn’t then she looked up her vision blurry there was a monster it was huge it looked like a shadowy figure but before she could look at it in the eyes she fell unconscious. After hours Daisy woke up she sat on her knees when she heard a lamb she looked down and there was a tiny lamb it jumped up and down and in circles Daisy stared at it in awe “what are u doing here little guy?” She asked taking him in her arms it just made more happy noses as Daisy giggled, Daisy stood up and when she did there in front of her was a tall creature slender and wearing a black suit then it talk “what are you doing here child?” Daisy looked down tears falling from her eyes “I ran away from my hom” she spoke in a soft and gentle voice “I see….how about i give you some shelter for the night it’s dangerous” the monster asked its voice ecstatic and vibrating almost like TV statics, Daisy nodded knowing that she didn’t have nowhere to go she took his offer the creature soon took her hand and they both disappeared in the darkness of the woods.

—————————————————————————————————————

FACTS:

#1: it is said that Daisy came from another world or somewhere out of earth.

#2: Lam lamb hates getting brushed he says “I feel like a baby”

#3: Slender found Lam Lamb in the woods when zalgo lost him

#4: Daisy loves every creepypasta because she says everyone needs love

#5: Lam Lamb will get jealous specially of guys

#6: Daisy gave lam lamb his collar in the color blue because it’s her favorite color meaning he’s her favorite out of anybody

#digital art #Daisy and Lam Lamb #creepypasta oc #creepy art #creepy cute #creepypasta #slenderman #dolly the lost soul #julius the dressmaker #mimi the jester #jason the toymaker #candy pop #lamb #original character #laughing jack #laughing jill #jeff the killer #jane the killer #nathan the nobody #original art