#<- ancient tag i plan to dust off
Text
something I haven't seen people mention about The Hunger Games trilogy and movies is how it genuinely revolutionized the Minecraft server scene
#Minecraft#<- ancient tag i plan to dust off#at some point almost all servers had their own thg minigame. so crazy#EYE spent money. on some servers. to get hunger games boosts. so i could be better than other people
13K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Piano Man (Rhett Abbott x Reader)
Summary: You and Rhett discover that Royal has a serious hidden talent when your little boy asks him to teach him something one day
Tagging: @floydsmuse
"Alright son, that's enough of that," Royal said, dusting the wood shavings off the piece he and Rhett had been working on.
Rhett blew away some of the wood shavings and agreed. Any more work and the piece just wouldn't look right. "Feels like this is taking forever," he yawned.
"I know, I know," Royal told him. "But whatever can help bring in some extra cash we'll take it. You teaching next week?"
"Three days a week at the Amelia County Steiner school that the kids go to," Rhett answered. "Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays."
Royal was relieved. Ever since the woodworking teacher had retired, he had wondered if he should take the job, but the ranch desperately needed running and with the new hands having been hired, it had doubled the work. Brian O'Dowd had proven himself to be an excellent worker, but having done a stint in jail had Royal and Russ Redwood keeping a close eye on him just in case he had gotten in trouble again.
The two of them worked away at the wood, the radio playing on the shelf above Royal's tool bench and the smell of freshly carved woods filling the entire room. The door to the woodshop creaked open and in came Tanner in his little boots, black cowboy hat and his denim jacket that Rhett had gotten him and his twin brother at a ride two weeks before.
"Papa?" he chirped, tugging at Royal's jacket sleeve. "You come play with me?"
"We'll come play in a minute bud," Royal told him. "Daddy and I have to finish something up, but we'll come once we're done."
"Ok," Tanner chirped.
Royal lifted his grandson up off the ground and seated himself on the tool-bench, letting him play with a few of the little wood blocks that he and Rhett had made for him and Tatum to play with.
"Where's Nana bud?" Royal asked him, marking the corner of the wood with a pencil.
"Nana went to Miss Sawah's," Tanner chirped.
Rhett tried to fight back the grin that was beginning to form on his face. Both Tatum and Tanner still had trouble pronouncing their Rs an Ls which their teachers thought was the cutest thing in the world.
As soon as they were both done, Rhett and Royal led him out of the woodshop and closed it up for the day, eager to get back into the warm house. February was always a tough month for Wabang's residents, with spring being around the bend but with winter still clinging on with its death throes.
"Still lesson planning sweetheart?" Rhett asked, sticking his boots on the hard plastic mat near the door.
"Yep and I'm gonna take a break in two minutes," you chuckled. "Block rotations suck no matter how you look at it."
"What is it this time?" he asked.
"Ancient Persia," you yawned. "We start Ancient Greece in two weeks. Greek Games are in May."
Rhett made a face. He loved hearing about your students and the lessons you got to do in school but he had also remembered how exhausted you felt when lesson planning. Thank God you had a mentor like Betsy Livingston, otherwise you would be lost.
"Alright bud, whatcha wanna do?" Royal asked him.
"Can you teach me to pay piano?" Tanner asked him.
"Sure, c'mere," Royal answered.
You and Rhett were a little surprised as the two of them sat on the little bench in front of the piano. "I wan' you to pay a song fist," Tanner told him.
"I want you to play a song first......?" Royal reminded him.
"Peas?"
"Ya'll got it bud," Royal said as Tanner hi-fived his grandfather. "Rhett, can ya'll hand me the book on the coffee table?"
You and Rhett dug through the notebooks, papers and pencils you needed for your main lesson plans when he found the old, dusty book that looked like it hadn't been touched in a while. "The complete book of movie soundtracks for piano players," Rhett read aloud. "Didn't even realize we had this."
Royal didn't say much as he opened it up and cracked his knuckles. Tanner watched his grandfather as his rough, calloused hands began playing away at the keys, hitting almost every note perfectly. It wasn't long before you and Rhett recognized right away what the piece was.
"Is that.......?" you asked.
"I think so," Rhett answered. "Dad is that the theme to Forest Gump?"
"None other," Royal chuckled.
Tanner kicked his little legs and giggled when Royal had finished. "Can you do anuver?" Tanner asked. "Peas?"
Royal gladly obliged, switching the page. As he began playing, you and Rhett once again, recognized what it was, the piece having played every year in the general store around Halloween.
"Das Hawwy Potter!!!" Tanner chirped excitedly.
Royal laughed as he finished off the last note. You and Rhett were hardly able to control the grins on your faces.
You both listened with awe as Tanner kept asking Royal to play more and each time, you and Rhett were surprised by how well Royal could play. He played "Red Warrior" from The Last Samurai, "May It Be" from Lord Of The Rings, "Now We Are Free" from Gladiator and "Tennessee" from Pearl Harbor. Yet you and Rhett were not prepared in the least when he played "Oogway Ascends". It was even more beautiful that you had remembered the first time you had heard it, watching it with the kids one night, the memories of the absent minded master from Kung Fu Panda, still fresh.
"One more Papa, one more," Tanner begged.
"Tanner c'mon, we've gotta take a break," Rhett chuckled.
"Nah Rhett, don't worry about it, he's havin fun," Royal said with a wave of his hand. "Your Ma's gonna be home with Tatum any minute so we might as well enjoy it while it lasts."
You and Rhett couldn't help but smile. If Royal didn't mind, then so be it.
When Royal began to play the next song, you didn't recognize it at first until he really began to get into it, your jaws nearly dropping. It wasn't in the book as far as you knew, but then again, Royal hadn't ever been known for doing anything by the book.
"Rhett is that......?"
Rhett laughed and pulled you close, kissing your forehead. "Fireflies" by Owl City had been a song that had played on your first date and one that you and Rhett enjoyed immensely. You and Rhett sang along to the words as Royal played and when he was done, the look on your faces had been enough.
And every day since then, when he had the time, Royal would sit with Tanner at the piano bench, teaching him little by little how to play.
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Words Into Potions Intro!
The Event (@moon-and-seraph)
I'll be working on two WIPs this March - my goal will be to attempt to finish Enchanted Illusion's first draft and give Of Starlight and Beasts a good headstart!
Title: OF STARLIGHT AND BEASTS
Genre - High Fantasy (medieval) Adventure/Dark Fairy Tale (with a tad of romance, that's a subplot)
Summary - In an ancient enchanted kingdom, Corah, the daughter of their land's most renowned adventurer, seeks to become the best knight that has ever lived. However, after meeting a young man with strange magic and no memories lost in the woods, Corah finds herself thrust into an unexpected quest when the once-thought-dead Queen returns to enact her revenge on their peaceful kingdom - and now it falls to Corah and her mysterious new friend to prevent destruction from reaching their land, if she wants to achieve her dream to be knighted. But are things quite what they seem?
POV - Dual POV (for now?), with some occasional POVs from important side characters.
Lenght - Novel/Book
Tags/Hashtag - #wip: of starlight and beasts, #wip of starlight and beasts
WIP Soundtrack - Of Starlight and Beasts Playlist
Snippet/Excerpt -
[...] Corah climbed the sandy stone wall, expertly weaving her way up towards the broken ramparts despite the weight of her armor straining her arms. Her hands reached the ledge, and she was able to fling her leg onto the walkway, pulling the rest of her body upwards.
Taking a moment to catch her breath, she wiped the dust off of her hands onto her trousers, waiting for her friends to reach her. Arammys' sunny locks were the first to peek through the ramparts, though, in his struggle to get a grip on the stone, his hands nearly slipped - she lunged, grabbing hold of his wrist just in time, and helping him heave himself the rest of the way up.
Behind him, Eidan followed suit, pulling himself over the wall nearly effortlessly. Arammys stared at him, impressed and annoyed at the same time.
Turning around as the duo started to bicker, Corah rolled her eyes, looking down to the city below, the sprawling sea just barely visible through the white stone buildings was filled with trading ships from near and far, the sky seemingly filled with colorful flags and banners. But she knew better than to trust the city's apparent normalcy - the Crimson Queen's soldiers were already here, just waiting to catch them on the streets down below.
"We'll need to figure out another plan, it seems" She winced, sighting a suspiciously familiar hooded figure just out of the rampart's gate ahead. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword.
Just as she was about to back away, Arammys popped up beside her, not noticing the enemy just below. Corah pulled Arammys behind a pillar just in time before the person looked up, nearly spotting him. She whispered through gritted teeth, exasperated. "Do you seriously have a death wish?"
"I didn't notice that the guy was there!" Arammys replied, an indignant remark spoken through a whisper as he pulled the hood of his cloak meticulously over his head, obscuring his hair and face. He peered over the pillar, this time more carefully, onto the street below, noticing more and more of the Queen's men. "Gods, the city is really crawling with them. How are we supposed to reach the docks? They'll kill us!"
"No, they won't." Eidan broke his silence, motioning with his metallic arm for the duo to follow him, "I know a way in. But you're really not gonna like it." [...]
Title: ENCHANTED ILLUSIONS
Genre - Victorian-inspired Dark Fantasy/Mystery
Summary - The brutal war between humans and mythical creatures came to an end 100 years ago, with a peace treaty being achieved and the rival nations finally coexisting peacefully in the capital city of Ansburke. Now, however, a crooked secret organization - dubbed the Hemlock Society - seeks to plunge the city into civil war, preying on the prejudices left over from the previous centuries of warfare to feed the uneasiness between humans and Myths once more. Now, as tensions reach a boiling point, a group of misfits and outcasts must work together to thwart the Hemlock Society's dreadful plans before civil war erupts, in a race against time to save both the people of Ansburke and their own lives, as they dive deep into the world of intrigues and secrets that lay just beneath the city's perfect surface.
POV - 5 Main POVS, with occasional POVs from important side characters.
Lenght - Novel/Book Series
Tags/Hashtag - #wip: enchanted illusions, #wip enchanted illusions
WIP Soundtrack - Enchanted Illusions Playlist
Snippet/Excerpt -
Augustus and Harriet walked down the cramped alleyway, following their unexpected guide. Whilst the necromancer maintained his usual unphased composure - hands behind his back, chin held up high, relaxed smile - Harriet could not help but look over her shoulder once every few seconds. Every shadow seemed to be someone ready to jump at them, to drag them to the deepest bowels of this town and never return.
She pushed the intrusive thoughts down, scoffing at the outlandish notion. Still, the sky was unnaturally covered by smog - smoke continuously billowing from the foundries' skyscraping chimneys, mixing with the cloudy mist - and the lamplit streets were a cramped maze of shops, tents and intricate buildings, metal being the most prevalent sight. Nothing like Ansburke, she thought.
The quicker they find what they're looking for, the sooner they'll return home. And hopefully, stop this madness from unfolding. There was an unwelcome, fiery chill in the air and people bustled through the street around them. She inched closer to Augustus, their shoulders brushing - and tried to convince herself it was simply so she wouldn't get lost in this industrial maze, not to sate the pit of uneasiness that had taken hold of her chest since they reached the gates of the city. Ahead, the eccentric young man leading them whirled around.
"Alright, if ya guys wanna blend in and find out more about that scumbag of a Mayor, you'll need to get some local clothes - not that there's nothing wrong with," He gestured to their dapper attires, now slightly torn and dusty after their ordeal at the train ride, which stood out like a sore thumb when compared to the crowds around them "that, but you two scream 'Ansburke' just by existing." [...]
#ms: wip intro#MS: WIP Intro#words into potions#wip: of starlight and beasts#wip: enchanted illusions#wip intro#writing#writeblr#writers#writers on tumblr#writerblr#my wips#character writing#my characters#my writing
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shattered Whole
Requested by Anonymous: Morpheus and I are husband and wife, I have telekinesis and save him from enemies but overdo it and pass out, he takes care of me until I wake up
A/N: Writing action and fights is one of my favorite things aaaahhhh also love when we get to see Dream use the full extent of his power and also powered reader 🙌🏽 enjoy! tagging @fangirlmary
~~Requests are open!~~
The din of battle was something you would never get used to. The screams of pain, the cries of rage, the cacophony of sound, the crumbling of rubble, the grunts of effort. Just one more enemy, just a few more feet. It never seemed to end.
As far as visits to Hell went, a fight was hardly unexpected, but it still wasn’t something you were entirely prepared for. Your husband Morpheus had warned you that conflict was a possibility, and you had insisted on coming anyway. You were nowhere near as powerful as Morpheus, but your telekinetic abilities were nothing to sniff at, especially after Dream agreed to help you hone and strengthen them. You could hold your own, but a horde of angry demons wasn’t exactly an easy thing to overcome.
They surrounded you on all sides, growling and spitting as they took it in turns to brandish their claws and attack. You had become separated from Morpheus, your husband surrounded by his own ring of demons several feet away. Every now and again you could feel grains of sand brush over your skin, reassuring you that he was still standing and holding firm. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, he appeared unbreakable as ever, even if the shadows of his cloak writhed and churned like wraiths. Watching the Nightmare King unleash the full extent of his power would have been incredibly arousing had your own life not been in danger. The demons began to close in on both of you, sensing they were about to overwhelm you with sheer force of numbers.
Morpheus could do this all day. You, however, were nearing your limit, and there was no sign of the storm abating any time soon. This had to end, now, if you wanted to make it back to the Dreaming alive.
Every breath burned as it tore in and out of your lungs. Your hands were trembling as you continued to use your power to throw demons into each other, smash their skulls in, lift slabs of rock in front of you to guard yourself from their claws and teeth. You were reaching your limit, but neither you nor Morpheus were any closer to defeating your foes. You could almost hear Lucifer’s smug, decadent chuckle.
In a brief lull in the action, you caught Morpheus’ eye across the barren waste covered in corpses. His eyes were black, but they sparkled with determination and vigor and rage most ancient. You could see his love for you, feel his conviction to protect you and get you out safely. Your own eyes tried to convey everything you didn’t have the time or words to say: how much you loved him, that you could do this, that you were going to save him for once. A determined, resigned smile touched your face, and Dream’s focused expression turned to one of horror.
You heard him call out for you, a guttural scream from the depths of his being for you not to go through with whatever it was you were planning. Blasting a hole in the wall of demons surrounding you, you yelled, “Come and get me you bastards!” and took off like the devil themselves was on your heels.
Every sprinting step pounded in the depths of your skull as you ran across the rocky wasteland, drawing the horde of demons away from Dream. You gasped for breath, the sand and dust burning your lungs as you ran. You could hear the demons gaining on you, snarling and growling all the horrible things they were going to do when they finally caught you. You grimaced and willed yourself to keep running, keep going, until you could take them all down.
About a hundred and fifty feet away was a ring of stone pillars, reaching up to the burnt orange sky. You pivoted and ran for those pillars, gathering every last scrap of your remaining power. You had hit your limit, there was no way in hell (literally) you were making it out of this battle alive. But that didn’t mean that Morpheus couldn’t. It was your turn to save him, as he had saved you so many times before. Tears stung the backs of your eyes, but you pushed them away. You had to focus.
The pillars drew closer, and the demons were hot on your heels. You reached the center of the ring and skidded to a halt before turning to face the legion of demons coming for you. You stretched your power to its limits, letting it seep into every crevice of the pillars it would reach. Your hands shook harder as you held your arms out to the pillars, blood dripped out of your nose, it felt like your skull was about to split open. Wait for it, wait for it…
The demons surrounded you, the pillars encircling them like a ring as they closed in on you. A feral smile spread across your face. You screamed, the force of the sound tearing your throat open. You jerked your arms down, letting your power take hold in the rocks.
The pillars came crashing down around you, burying the army of demons under tons of stone they could never hope to crawl their way out of. The earth shook beneath your feet as the pillars cascaded down, cracks appearing beneath your feet. You held your ground as long as you could, trying to direct your power to bring the rocks down on only the demons. The ground beneath your feet crumbled- you lost your footing and fell to the ground, but the damage was done.
The ground beneath you caved in, burying you under dirt and stone you couldn’t feel. You couldn’t feel anything, not the earth at your back, not the dust settling over your face and getting into your eyes. Your entire body was numb and utterly spent, unable to move an inch. A final breath rattled out of your lungs, carrying a loving whisper of your husband’s name as your eyes fluttered shut, hoping you had done enough.
~~
The moment you had caught Dream’s eye, he knew you were about to do something reckless. He had to get to you, he had to stop you from needlessly sacrificing yourself. If you were gone, how could he possibly continue?
Your battle cry rang in his ears, the verbal gauntlet thrown to your enemies filling him with both pride and dread as he saw you sprint away, dozens of demons chasing after you. He froze for just a second, wanting to chase after you but unable to get his form to move. He dispatched the three demons who tried to take advantage of his momentary lapse before tearing after you.
The closer he got, the more demons got in his way. Flurries of sand tore them apart from the inside, lifted and threw them out of his path, but it still wasn’t enough to get to you in time. He heard your scream, and his blood went cold.
Morpheus arrived just in time to see the pillars of stone collapse on the horde of demons surrounding you, to hear their cries of agony and despair. The ground trembled beneath him, his brow furrowed, trying to catch a glimpse of you through the dust and rubble. You just had to be alright, you couldn’t be gone. He’d lay the entire realm to waste if you had perished while fighting his battle.
The dust settled, and the battlefield became eerily quiet. Too quiet. No sign of life remained. Dream carefully picked his way through the rubble, appearing to float over the crumbled stone. His breathing grew shallow and strained as he approached ground zero, the crater he knew had been the epicenter of your last stand.
His hands trembled and shook as he shifted the rubble, hoping against all hope that you somehow survived.
He slowly uncovered your form, horrified as more and more of you was revealed. Your face was paler than his, littered with cuts from the flying bits of rock. Blood had trickled down your face from your nose, darkened by smudges of dirt and demon grime. You weren’t moving, he couldn’t tell if you were breathing. Despite it all, your face appeared peaceful, relaxed. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought you were asleep.
“Oh my love,” he choked, gingerly taking you in his arms, “What have you done?”
~~
The climb through the dark back to consciousness was slow and arduous. A strained groan forced itself from your throat as your body’s every complaint made itself known at the same time. You ached all over, you could feel the sting of healing cuts, and it felt like your head was being squeezed in a vice. The weakness and strain sank into your bones; even squinting to keep your eyes shut against the light of wherever you were was a massive effort.
You forced yourself to take deep breaths and not panic. Slowly, you heaved your eyes open. It took a moment for your mind to catch up, but you realized that you were back in your room in the Dreaming, wearing your favorite pajamas, tucked beneath the silk sheets of your bed. Seated in a chair at your side, was Morpheus. It may have been a trick of the light, or of your exhausted brain, but his eyes appeared swollen and bloodshot, his skin wan and clammy. How long had you been out? How long had he sat by your side?
Your chapped lips stretched into a weak smile. “Dream…” you breathed, groaning softly as you shifted your hand towards him.
The Dream Lord’s eyes snapped up from the floor when he heard your voice. His eyes widened in shock, as if he had been preparing himself for the worst and was granted mercy he hadn’t expected. He took your hand in his and squeezed tightly, as if he were afraid you’d vanish the moment he let go.
He breathed out your name in trembling awe and reverence, pressing his lips to your knuckles. “What happened?” you asked softly. Dream swallowed hard.
“You used too much of your power, the pillars came down before I could reach you.” He paused. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly two days. We- I’ve been worried.” He tried to hide the tremble in his lip but failed. “I feared I had lost you.”
You blinked slowly and gave his hand a weak squeeze. “But you didn’t. I’m here, love. I’m here.” You smiled again. “Looks like I saved your ass for once.”
Morpheus couldn’t help the watery, broken chuckle that slipped out of his mouth. “You save me every day, my beautiful wife,” he murmured back, brushing a stray wisp of hair out of your face. He could see your eyes fluttering shut, sleep about to claim you again.
“Rest now,” he breathed. He brushed his lips over your forehead. “I will be here when you wake.”
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
15 questions/15 people
tagged by @newvibewars (thank you! i started a new thread because that post was getting long af)
are you named after anyone? nope, certified original character do not steal
when was the last time you cried? legitimately can't remember. i get a little bit of dust in my eye once in a while if i see something emotional but i don't actually truly cry much at all
do you have kids? no
do you use sarcasm a lot? i'm trying to be less irony poisoned so not as much but i don't think that counts for dry sarcasm
what’s the first thing you notice about people? besides obvious physical characteristics? speech patterns and general bearing i guess. if you act like a normal human being (standards for this vary wildly)
what’s your eye color? brown but like it's more like a deep earthy brown and there are teakwood flecks when the light hits them and they turn a kinda burnt umber color when i'm angry
scary movie or happy endings? either is fine but slight preference for happy endings i guess. why can't there be a scary movie with a happy ending though. no ominous sequel setup just defeat the ancient evil and fuckin retire to the countryside, love interest you rescued from the jaws of utter doom optional but encouraged
any special talents? nothing too special. fairly good marksman? abnormally high lung capacity?
where were you born? california, to my infinite chagrin. yosemite is pretty great and the weather is cool whenever everything isn't on fire. other than that... ehhh i'm not going back you can't make me
what are your hobbies? i draw off and on, i was crocheting for a bit before i took a break that ended up extending indefinitely, i like rock climbing but there's no good rock nearby and the nearest gym is kinda expensive and like 40 minutes drive :/
do you have any pets? no, unless you count that tupperware in the fridge that i should really get around to cleaning out
what sports do you play/have you played? lot of soccer when i was younger which is still my favorite, several years of swim team which were a lot of fun as well, and one season of basketball that i did not like too much, ironically. these days it's usually a casual game of volleyball whenever the pals get together
how tall are you? legend has it i'm 6'4"
favorite subject in school? chemistry maybe? that was a long time ago. we had a bunch of fun experiments and i got to make stump remover smoke bombs though
dream job? probably something in the vein of network operations sme, if i can get a bit more training and certification. i'm the guy you call when the internet absolutely positively have to come up. i like the problem solving oriented aspect of it and (ideally) if i fix shit right and plan ahead my job becomes pretty chill after a while. if i could finagle some/all remote work that wouldn't sound bad at all
if you haven't been tagged already: @foxmulderswaifu5ever, @crabs-and-bongos, @ursus-arctos-horribillis-chad, @to2llynottoby, @khanuckle, @maniaconmeth, @barbiesplasticsurgeons... and viewers like you!
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Perhaps I do not wish for courtly affections. This ancient spirit of mine yearns for a dream of love. A love the stuff of epics and fairy tales. But, this child's heart, young and pure as it may be, is also a greedy thing. Desperate for attention, mine and mine alone. Not to be clutched at as some remnant of Morpheus. Not to be accepted as sibling Dream... But to be adored. As Daniel, only Daniel. And you do, don't you Corinthian? Love me as your Daniel?"
I originally posted this as a short on Tumblr back in May. But at the encouragement of the lovely @bobbole, my partner in all things Corinthiel ❤️…. I came back to it, shook off the dust and gave it a spritz up. And now it's suddenly twice as long with a second chapter in the planning. 😅 As always tagging @ibrithir-was-here. Who indirectly got me obbsesed with this pairing. And now must forever suffer the consequences. 😆
#corinthiel#corinthian x daniel#the corinthian#the second corinthian#Daniel hall#Daniel!dream#dream of the endless#the sandman#the sandman fanfic#My pen and ink scribbles
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
DnD OC Fic: Part One
This is a purely self-indulgent writing thing I've wanted to do for a while now. My DnD OC, Annahael, and by extension her dragon companion Azula, have been living in my head for several years now, and I've had a strong desire to not only write out every bit of her backstory, but to do so in a fic-style way, hitting major events that might have occurred during her life. Is it really fanfiction if you're writing about your own character? ...maybe. In any case, I've got multiple parts planned for this, but actually had the energy to finish at least one part. If you choose to read all of this, thanks! I appreciate it! If not, fair enough, I wrote this mainly for myself anyways.
Word count: 2.3k
Tagging a couple folks who might be interested (if you're not/you are, let me know I'll adjust as needed): @bookwyrm-of-the-trees @jgvfhl @bazingabacca @professorgallifrey @charlie-omniscient
Part One: Childhood
“Slow down, Annahael!” The young blonde girl tripped over another tree limb as she chased her cousin up the mountainside.
“You just have to try harder to keep up!“ the other girl jeered back. Her jet black hair flew like raven feathers behind her as she scrambled up another ledge.
“Yeah, Kiana!” A boy with messy blonde hair shoved her as he ran past. “The others aren’t going to wait for us forever!”
“And if you don’t slow down, Elyan, you’re going to chip another tooth!” Still, Kiana did her best to catch up to her other two cousins.
The sun crested over the nearby peaks as the trio made their way up the mountain.
“Ughhhhh, how much farther?” Elyan groaned.
“Can’t be that much longer now.” Annahael glanced around, looking for her remaining cousins. “Damien and Faedron both said they’d meet us up here.”
“Not like you’re that hard to find.” A half-elven boy stepped out from behind a tree. “I’m surprised half the creatures in the forest aren’t here, considering the racket you’ve been making.”
“You try traveling with these two,” Kiana shot back, dusting herself off.
“They have their moments. As do you, dear sister.” A dark haired boy jumped down from a nearby tree.
“Damien.” Kiana rolled her eyes. “I should have known you were lurking around somewhere.”
“Guilty as charged.” He gave a small smile.
“So,” Annahael crossed her arms. “Did you actually find something cool this time, or is this just another excuse to leave the manor?”
Faedron gave a slight smirk. “Can’t it be both, cousin?
“Now,” the half-elf held up his hand. “We have to be extremely careful. Even the slightest disturbance could lead to catastrophe.” He gave a pointed glare towards Elyan.
“That was one time!” Elyan shouted. “How was I supposed to know ancient family relics were that breakable?”
“By using the same vacuous space in your head that keeps you from stabbing yourself with the pointy end of a spear?” Kiana suggested.
Before Elyan could shove Kiana back down the mountainside, Annahael stepped in between them.
“Ok, ok, calm down.” She held out both her arms, keeping the two relatively at bay. “Honestly, Elyan, it’s not worth it. We both know Kiana can’t go five minutes without reminding us how she’s the smartest one in the room.” Kiana shot daggers towards Annahael. Metaphorically, of course, but the literal urge was there, as well. “So maybe you can rub whatever two brain cells you have left together and knock it off? Just long enough to see if Faedron is playing a practical joke on us.”
Elyan and Kiana shared a look, deciding whether to kill each other, Annahael, or both. Eventually, the curiosity of what Faedron had in store for them became greater than their bloodlust, and the two of them fell in line with their siblings. Elyan with Faedron further up the path, Damien and Kiana keeping watch in the middle, and Annahael bringing up the rear.
She couldn’t help but notice the pairs ahead of her, the friendly bickering, the light shoving, the laughter. She wasn’t jealous, of course. Being an only child had its perks, not to mention the fact that she was the eldest of all of them. She would take getting spoiled by her parents over having to deal with another person who shared her bloodline any day. Her cousins were enough trouble as it was.
~~~
Trudging along the paths of the mountainside, Faedron held up his hand, signaling the group to stop. He then carefully navigated his way to a nearby outcropping, brushing aside some foliage and revealing an entrance in the rock, just wide enough for an adult to maneuver through. With a confident smirk on his face, he waved his family over to follow him through the entrance.
“Faedron, you are aware some of us can’t see down there?” Kiana whispered.
“Just trust me, then,” he replied. “I can take us down there safely, and Annahael can watch us all from the back.”
Annahael nodded, a bit of fake confidence covering up her confusion. On the surface she knew she didn’t look much different from her human cousins, but there were inconsistencies. She first noticed it while learning the language of her family. Despite others, namely Kiana, having greater intelligence, Annahael could understand and speak the language almost immediately. And again now, with being able to see in the darkest of places with ease. She’d heard whispers from her family and others in the manor. Talks of lineage, of her disgraced Aunt Delilah, the phrase “angel blood” arising here and there. But it didn’t mean anything to her, so she tried not to dwell on it.
As the group carefully made their way through the cavern, Faedron led them down various twists and turns before emerging in a softly lit open chamber. Gemstones grew scattered across the walls, jutting out in clusters and reflecting the sourceless light. Emeralds, rubies, and sapphires glittered, with obsidian and opals refracting a rainbow of hues across the room. However, the gemstones were the least impressive items in the cavern. In each corner, gathered by a particular gem cluster, there lay a dragon egg.
“What do you say?” Faedron turned to gloat at everyone, their mouths agape in wonder. “Do you think the journey was worth it now?”
“Shut up,” Kiana muttered, the glow of the rubies hiding her flushed cheeks.
“And there’s no traps here?” Damien asked, glancing around the room.
“I already checked. No signs of traps; no signs of dragons. I wouldn’t recommend touching anything,” he called after Elyan, who was racing around the room, about to pick up an egg.
“You break an old vase one time…” Elyan muttered, reluctantly shoving his hands into his pockets.
Distracted by the beauty before them, the group almost missed the signs of footsteps behind them. Annahael blinked for a moment, and upon hearing the sound hissed out “Hide!”
The group scattered, some more successfully than others blending into their surroundings. The footsteps thudded down the passageway, growing ever closer to the chamber, echoing off the gems in the room. As the figure came to a stop in the center of the room, she called out in a familiar voice, “There’s no need to hide, children.”
“Grandmother?” Elyan poked his head out from behind an outcropping. Annahael punched him on her way towards the center of the room.
“Tzel Mavet,” she said respectfully, shooting daggers towards her cousin as she knelt. While Phaedra Kroxa was indeed their grandmother, she was also the head matriarch of the family, and the leader of the Death Sect of the Organization 13, the mysterious and powerful group their family belonged to. And Annahael did not sit through hours of history class to have her brainless relative make such an impudent vernacular slip.
Her other cousins began to emerge from their hiding places, kneeling in front of their leader.
“To what do we owe this honor?” Annahael asked.
“It can’t be enough that I was worried about you all?” Her voice was a powerful, commanding force in the room, with just the slightest dash of sweetness mixed in. “When the entire next generation of the Kroxa family goes missing at the same time…well, that’s sure to raise some alarms.” Everyone hung their heads lower, dipping from respect into shame.
“And now, seeing you all here, frankly I’m a little disappointed. You ruined the surprise.”
All of their heads immediately perked up. “A surprise?” Elyan asked.
“Yes.” The Tzel Mavet walked around the chamber, picking up one of the dragon eggs. “As a reward for your training, we were going to gift you each a draconic partner to aid you in your endeavors. But, I suppose the wyrm is out of the bag.” Her mouth curled into what one might assume could be called a smile.
“But…” Faedron’s voice shook under the glare of his elder. “But I checked for ev-everything. Footprints, disturbances. This…this chamber was untouched.”
“Then clearly you aren’t as skilled as you think you are,” she said curtly. “Perhaps if you spent less time galavanting through the forest and more time training, you wouldn’t have made an error.”
Faedron nodded and bowed his head again, looking like he was going to be sick.
“In any case.” The sweetness returned to her voice, as if nothing had just happened. “It wouldn’t be fair to hang on to the element of surprise anymore. So, you are all free to choose a companion with which to bond with. Annahael,” she gestured, and Annahael stood. “You may have first pick.”
“Wait,” Kiana stood up as well. “I should get first pick.”
The Tzel Mavet raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Just because she’s the eldest doesn’t mean she is the most powerful.” Kiana conjured a mass of fire before them, then shaped the flames to soar around the room. The lights of the inferno refracted across the gems before the fire settled into Kiana’s hand, extinguishing it with a close of her fist.
The Tzel Mavet nodded. “Impressive,” she said. “Perhaps I have been underestimating the work that you’ve put into this family.” She smiled at Kiana before turning an expectant glare towards Annahael.
“Oh, right, yes.” She fumbled over her words and her dagger, failing to undo the strap and nearly dropping the blade. She tried to ignore Kiana and Elyan hiding a snicker as she grasped the dagger, channeling energy through it until it glowed with a bright white light.
“Fascinating,” Kiana mocked. “What power you must wield!” She retrieved her own small blade and conducted a similar incantation, her own weapon now glowing with a similar arcane energy.
The Tzel Mavet held up her hand, and Kiana dropped the spell, falling silent. “Annahael,” she said. “I fail to see how that could possibly be useful.”
“Well, I-”
“If you aren’t able to prove yourself here and now, then I can’t see how you’ll do so in the future. If I am to entrust the future of this family to someone, then I need to be certain she’ll have what it takes. It makes no difference to me the order of her birth.”
Annahael felt something inside of her start to bubble up. She’d felt it before, when her cousins would mock her for her occasional clumsiness, when she’d hear whispers about her behind her back. It wasn’t as trivial as not getting her way, not necessarily. It was anger. Anger over not being stronger, over not being perfect, over being completely and utterly afraid of what losing her status might mean. Instead of pushing those feelings down as she normally did, this time she let them fester and burn, until finally they burst forth.
A crash of lightning burst outside as Annahael screamed, a terrifying pitch that made nails on a chalkboard sound like a pleasant lullaby. Light drained from her eyes and the room, her pupils now filled with pools of inky blackness. A pair of skeletal, ghostly wings sprouted from her back, causing all of her cousins to shirk away from her. Kiana took a step back, speech escaping her for the time being.
Annahael dashed up to her, holding the dagger to Kiana’s throat. The light emitting from it was gone, now giving off a deathly, haunting energy.
“Don’t you ever, ever, dare to challenge me like that again.” Her voice seemed to echo, an unearthly tone haunting every word. “If you even think about it…” She traced the dagger in a faint line across Kiana’s cheek, drawing just the slightest bit of blood. “Understand?”
Kiana gulped, but nodded. Her body was trembling, and while her sibling and other cousins appeared to want to help her, they seemed just as petrified as her.
Before Annahael could cause any serious harm, she felt a wave of magic wash over her, the word “Stop” echoing in her mind. The wings retreated into her back, seemingly vanishing. Her eyes returned to their normal color, the now inert dagger removed from Kiana’s throat. Annahael blinked, the light returning to normal in the chamber, turning to face her grandmother. She smiled for just a moment towards Annahael, not out of pride, necessarily, but as if she had just won a bet.
“What just…” Annahael looked towards her cousins. Damien looked on the verge of murder, eyeing Kiana’s cheek, then staring coldly towards Annahael. Elyan looked more mad at himself, frustrated that he couldn’t do much of anything in the moment. Even Faedron couldn’t meet her gaze.
“Now, Annahael.” She felt a hand upon her shoulder, and stared up into the Tzel Mavet’s deathly smile. “Which companion would you like to choose?”
Forcing herself to ignore her cousins, Annahael looked around, eyes settling on a sparkling blue corner of the room. Approaching the egg, tiny sparks began to shoot off of it, playful and inviting. She began to feel her hands tingle with electricity just holding the egg.
“This one.”
~~~
Returning to the manor, the rest of her cousins kept their distance ahead of her, each admiring their own draconic egg. Annahael lagged behind, trying to keep her focus on the egg within her own hands.
“I’ve come to a decision,” the Tzel Mavet said beside her. “From now on your lessons shall be conducted separately from the rest of your cousins. If we are to prepare you to be the next Tzel Mavet Atidah, we’ll have to change your curriculum immediately.”
Annahael looked up at her, sensing the power that seemed to radiate from her very presence. It was intimidating, it was commanding, and yet, above all, comfortingly familiar. She glanced ahead at her cousins once more, and at the distance that was beginning to form between them.
“When would you like me to start?”
#my writing#dnd oc#dnd oc writing#yall this character had a whole backstory/aesthetic of being an evil goth bitch#but then experiences in the campaign/party made her better#but I the player still sometimes miss her getting to be a bit of a bitch sometimes#ergo self indulgent writing stuffs#also not that I can imagine this happening#but I am more than willing to answer questions or talk about this bc yeahhhhhh the brainrot is real
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
dusting off the usual area I slide in from, since it’s been a minute since I popped into the ask box ^^ how about D, I, M, Q and V???
Hi hi hello hi, rainy!! :D Apologies for the dust lmao. XD Here we goooo~!
D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)
There are three main kinds of dates with Seto Kaiba:
1) Surprisingly ordinary and casual! Dinner dates at restaurants with good food but not necessarily particularly high price tags, movie dates, going to flea markets, that sort of thing. When you live together, or have just been together as long as we have, dates become a lot more about just getting out and having a bit of fun together than about trying to impress each other.
2) Fancy/formal events. These are usually work functions related to Seto's job, and are a lot more performative than anything else we do. They're often a lot of fun but also exhausting for both of us and we spend the night afterward just chilling together with a game or two before bed.
3) Over-the-top romantic. Seto knows exactly how to make an evening together one that we won't forget, and he generally makes it a point to do it whenever I'm least expecting it. XD Candlelit dinners, surprise getaways, rose petals everywhere; there's always something. The proposal dinner he planned for us is a prime example. Dude went all-out, as much as he could with the restaurant he chose, and timed it for a date I would never have expected it—about a week after our anniversary, on an otherwise entirely ordinary day. And he gave a speech that might have had me in fucking tears if he hadn't blown it for himself earlier in the evening. 15/10 I am the luckiest person alive to be with this absurd and amazing man. <3
I = Impression (What was their first impression?)
His first impression on me? He walked into Yugi's shop and was a prick to Joey and Grandpa, then gave Grandpa a heart attack and ripped up the old man's Blue-Eyes card and was a prick to Yugi during their duel. I was a child who just saw bad guys and disliked them on principal, especially bullies, and I saw him as a bully. I didn't have a single nice word to say about him until the episode with the duel with the impersonator when he helped Yugi, and then the only nice word I had for him was "cool." My opinion of him shifted slowly over time, but I didn't get to really like him until Virtual World pffft. XD
M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)
Seto says that currently, his favorite memory with me is just one word: "Yes." Closely followed by the entire rest of that evening.
Excuse me, I need to go die of being flustered now, thanks—
Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)
Fascinating question to ask of a futurist like Seto. XD He's never said exactly, but you should see how much attention he pays to those history documentaries where they explore how ancient and medieval people built things—especially things like Roman engineering/architectural techniques. I think if you pressed him for an answer he'd tell you that the tools humans use to build toward a better future are always the best part of any culture's legacy, no matter what time period you're looking at. For him, it's computers and robotics; for the Romans, it was a new kind of concrete or whatever.
V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)
You've seen the source. An easier question to answer would be what DOESN'T he like to show off?? XDDD Never let it be said that Seto Kaiba has ever downplayed an invention in his friggin life.
Actually, that's quite interesting, though. He flaunts his genius and his inventions and makes a giant spectacle of himself all the time. You know what he doesn't show off? His philanthropy, the fact that he'd sacrifice everything for his brother, just how far he will go for someone he cares about.
If what he's done or made isn't personal to him, if the only meaning it has for him is to stroke his ego or enforce his dominance over the world tech industry, if it makes him a larger public figure, he'll put on a show nobody will ever forget to debut it. Take over every screen in the city, come dangerously close to a bunch of buildings to yell at a crowd from a helicopter, put on a show that probably traumatized half the audience before he revealed it was a hologram and blackmail two of the world's best duelists to have the smallest tournament ever, whatever. If it's something that matter to him on a personal level, though? If it's something that might actually make people like him, or might expose something softer about him? That all stays in the background as much as possible. He doesn't put that on display, and he doesn't advertise it.
All that drama, all that showboating, that's a smokescreen. It's not what truly matters to him. His small circle of friends and family that he loves beyond all reason are what he's truly the most proud of, on a personal level. He doesn't show it off, though, because he wants the world focused on him—that way, they won't target the things he cares most about. The grandstanding is a shield, hiding and protecting the things that matter.
So, what does he like to show off? His genius, his competitive spirit, his scientific contributions, his flair for the dramatic, and, yes, his ability to be an asshole when he feels the situation calls for it. What is he proud of? His brother's overall better mental health compared to his own. His personal journey of recovery from the damage done to him by Gozaburo. The fact that somehow, he lucked into some amazing and lifelong friendships with people who are consistently there for him even though it takes years for him to come around and acknowledge how much those friendships mean to him. The fact that he is in fact managing to do exactly what he always most wanted to do: bringing some level of happiness and aid to kids like he and his brother were before they were adopted by Gozaburo.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
You do a quick head count when you emerge in the lair. Raph is already up and dusting himself off, pulling you up with him. Michael is still in his shell, where you can hear a quiet sniffle. Leo hasn't moved from where he was, staring blankly into space. April is holding both of his hands, speaking to him in quiet tones. Splinter is delicately putting Leo's sword down, and your Father is dusting himself off, orb in hand. No Cassandra. No Big Mama. No Shredder. Good.
Clever plan. No one would ever look for us in this disgusting sewer hovel.
Home sweet home.
Your affect is flat when you say it, though you've come to feel great affection for the decorated halls of your sewer lair. Mikey whines in your arms.
I can't believe I trusted Mama to take care of Shreddy. Now what are we gonna do?
April approaches, and you allow her to rub his shell.
Hey, at least the people of New York are still safe inside the mystic orb.
Why don't we let them out?
Splinter stomps a foot, tearing spider web from his wrist.
No. Not with The Shredder out there.
Splinter's right. They're safer in there for now. Instead, we should, um-
You glance at Leo, still despondent for the time being, and then Raph, who shrugs at you.
Honestly? I don't know. We already hit him with everything we got. Dad?
...I got nothing.
Your stomach drops, and you're suddenly very agitated.
Oh, great Hamato Yoshi, were you not trained from birth to defeat The Shredder? Surely, your mind was filled with answers!
The sarcasm is palpable, and you earn a smack from his tail. You drop Michael as you're knocked back, and April catches him.
Unfortunately, I filled it with a lot of other stuff too. I should have listened to grandpa's Sho's painfully boring lessons on the secret of defeating Shredder!
You rub your head, agreeing. It would have saved you all a lot of trouble, frankly. Rubbing his chin, your Father speaks up.
If you were there when he spoke, then the answer is buried somewhere in your memories.
That dreading feeling sticks in your gut at what you know Father is suggesting. You have a bad history with memory spells.
That would mean sending my sons to the most horrifying hideous place they have ever been.
Jersey?
Leo's recovering enough to crack a joke. Good. The conversation continues, and you leave to collect your runesmithing materials for the ritual you know Draxum will be convincing your family to take part in. The waxy lines you draw on the floor are perfect, smooth and unbroken, geometrically accurate circles and lines. When you finish, you receive an affectionate and approving pat on the head. You have done well, and the knowledge makes your tail wag for just a moment before you settle into your place in the spell.
Draxum will provide the power required to sustain it, while you and your three brothers move through Splinter's mind to find Hamato Sho. You are only somewhat comforted by the fact that, as a circle of your own making, you know for a fact that nothing malicious will be tagging along.
Nothing besides Splinter's own mind, you realize, as your butts are thoroughly kicked by a Lou Jitsu in his human-prime.
You don't have time to consider the memories you observe before you are brought back out of the spell by a determined April O'Neil, nor do you have time to consider the massive Shredder skull surrounded by chains that Splinter is pulling a sword from after Raph and Father hash out a plan to retrieve the ancient Hamato weapon.
What you do have time to consider is the woman it transforms into once it is pulled free, crackling with energy as she looks at your group with dismay. A Hamato ancestor, Splinter explains. His ancestor, and- your ancestor, maybe, as Michael quickly insists on calling her gram-gram.
You are not Hamato, you think, but you still find your mouth dry as you look at her, hoping the topic of your origins doesn't come up. How could you claim her as family when you worked for so long to bring about the end of her line? How could she look upon your animistic appearances without question, claiming you as her descendants?
The information she grants you about your bloodline is not necessarily new to you, but it is clearly new to your brothers. You can't be sure if Leo knew about this ancestry or not. Even the term for your family's power- Hamato Ninpo - is not entirely unfamiliar, but you feel yourself sag when she mentions it.
Those alternate versions of your family, alternate versions of yourself, have explained their limited understanding of it several times before. It is a power that comes from trust, from love, from the innate connection between members of the Hamato clan. She must know that you aren't it, are a lost cause. She must see your mutated bodies, untrained and unfamiliar, and understand immediately that some other way is required to save humanity.
Gram-gram needs quiet! Sorry.
It's all right. I'm pleased to meet my family.
Family. You nearly trip over your own feet as you hear it on your way out of the room. Maybe you could be. Maybe it's not a lost cause.
1 note
·
View note
Note
Peter Parker!andrews getting in a fight with his girlfriend for being reckless because she’s powerful
♡⃕ ﹙scarlet witch, peter parker.﹚
A/N I decided that y/n would have the same powers as scarlet witch, plus I added a little more stuff for the story. I hope you enjoy it, thank u for the request. <3
PAIRING TASM!Peter Parker x Scarlet Witch!Reader
TW/TAGS Violence, mentions of death, angst.
SUMMARY You've always had the powers you have now, but over time they grew stronger, taking over you. And one night, having lost your parents, you decided to revive them, letting Scarlet Witch take over you to continue with her plan.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN | PETER'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
If someone had ever told Peter that he would have to fight the woman he loves more than himself, he would have laughed, a lot.
But here he was, totally devastated by the fight he had just had with y/n, no, she wasn't the y/n he loved anymore, she was Scarlet Witch, she was consumed by the powers she had, she was almost unbeatable.
"What? Don't you love me now?" You laughed in a way he had never heard you do. It was evil in shape, heartless. The city was in chaos because of you, along with a lot of people dying to get what you wanted.
"y/n, you're not like this, you must..." you cut him off.
"I'm not y/n anymore, she died." you looked at him with fury in your eyes. "And if you want to stay alive, I recommend that you get out of my way."
"Sorry, but no, and if I have to fight you to stop you I will."
"Fine, if you insist." you answered simply, light began to be produced in your hands and with his sixth sense he was able to predict where you were going to hit him. "Oh come on! It's no fun if you dodge all my punches." you pouted and reached out your hand so you could lift him up too, you pulled him towards you in the air and it was impossible for him to move due to the force field that your telekinesis had.
"y/n you have to stop, this is not you." he mumbled slightly due to the strength you held in his body as he tried to wriggle out of it.
"I'm not going to stop, I just want my parents back, no one better than you should understand that." you looked at him and he could see betrayal, anger and sadness reflected in your eyes. "You should have helped me when I asked you to, when I was reasonable." your jaw tensed as you watched Peter carefully. "Let me do this and I'll stop."
"No." He responded after a few seconds, and for a moment the façade of feigned sadness that you had had disappeared, turning into anger once more.
"Well, you made me." With a movement of your hand you threw him away from there, with another movement you covered his torso with metal sheets so that he could not move.
Thanks to the strength that he also had, he managed to get rid of the metals that covered most of his body.
"Give it up, Peter." You muttered in his mind. Another of your powers is mental manipulation.
"No, I'm not going to let you take her." He responded back by walking out of the building you'd thrown him into to start swinging back to where you'd gone.
"She and I are one, Parker, if you kill me she dies." you laughed maliciously and he stopped hearing your voice in his mind.
He knew that you were going to go to some kind of magical pit that you had found from an ancient legend where previously kings and queens had used it to revive and live much longer.
When he arrived, you were ready to start with that ritual that you were planning to do.
He tried to send one of his cobwebs towards your hands but you could sense it before, undoing them with your powers.
"You are too predictable, Spider-Man." you said the name with contempt.
"You have to stop, you don't know what kind of consequences that can bring." He pointed to the pit with his hand, as he slowly approached you.
When he saw that you didn't move, he took the opportunity to get closer and take you in his arms, but you immediately turned to dust between his fingers.
"Wha-?" And suddenly the whole scene changed, he wasn't wearing his Spider-Man suit and he wasn't in the pit anymore, he thought you had teleported him or something similar but when he turned around and looked at you behind him, but without that scarlet red suit, if not you in your usual way got even more confused.
"Hi sweetheart." You smiled looking at him sweetly, he frowned as he looked at you.
"What are we doing here?" he asked looking around him, both were on your apartment.
"Listen, you have to let her do what she plans to do, you can't stop her." You denied looking at him with anguish.
"We don't know what kind of side effects it can bring, y/n."
"Listen to me, will you, love?" You were getting closer to him little by little. He wasn't entirely confident that it was you, but he still gave you the benefit of the doubt. "No one will be able to stop her, believe me when I tell you." You nodded looking directly into his eyes.
"But..."
"Shh, nobody." you finally denied taking him by the cheeks, he looked at you without understanding anything.
Your biggest mistake was standing in front of a mirror. Because if you had already convinced him, seeing that Scarlet Witch was in the reflection holding him by the cheeks and not you, he finally reacted.
"I'm so sorry." He murmured looking at you, you frowned without understanding what he was saying.
With one of his webs he took a knife. It took all of his willpower to do it but he finally rammed it into your chest, stabbing into you.
"I'm sorry." he repeated like a prayer as the scenery around them fell apart, returning you to the pit.
Seeing that he was still standing, he looked everywhere, trying to find you as Scarlet Witch, but when he looked at the ground and saw your normal form, he felt too strong a pressure on his chest.
"No no no no." He denied several times, taking off his mask and kneeling next to you. "Please no." he sobbed looking at your dead form in his arms.
He really didn't believe what Scarlet had said, if she died you too.
"I'm so sorry."
disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.
#peter parker#peter parker fanfic#peter parker imagine#peter parker imagines#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker angst#peter parker fluff#the amazing spider-man#the amazing spider-man fanfic#tasm#tasm fanfic#val's version#evermoresversion
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
How would a living house sound? Like the house is sentient and doesn't want its new owner to leave.
—anonymous
—tw / tags: confinement, general yandere themes, sfw, unedited
—featured character(s): disembodied spirit / sentient house / ???
“Please,” you begged, rattling on the doorknob, “I just need to go shopping for some grocery!” The knob did not give and the stillness in the room seemed to press down in your spine. Your head throbbed.
The air conditioner were turned off, it was early fall but still too warm to have the heater running, but within seconds, you were freezing. White flumes of hot breaths puffed from your lips. You shivered—it was not happy.
“I won’t be gone long!” You pleaded, thudding a fist on the beautiful wooden door. Cherry wood, ancient as the rest of this god forsaken Victorian home. One of few things you left untouched beyond polishing it up with wood oil, when you flipped this fucking house and moved in once the dust settled.
It was cheap, destroyed, and gutted from the inside out by the greedy savagers but the house had an attractive potential to it. You had been hunting for a home you could call your own and you knew right then by looking at its advertisement that it was meant to be yours. Even though it was a fixer upper house, you didn’t care. You had a pretty saving from years of hard work, to make your dream as a homeowner to come true.
You put in so much elbow greases, slaving away to implement new floors, walls, utilities—everything that were ripped out and rotting, you replaced, that it felt truly yours. You tried to keep true to its history while still keeping some modern touches. It even had a massive backyard that you planned on gardening and considered having a koi pond there. Maybe a swimming pool if you saved up enough money.
It was the perfect home.
How the hell were you supposed to know it was alive?
Rattles boomed from the kitchen. A strange assortment of sounds, that you distantly recognized glass jars clinking, metal cans clanging, to even plastic containers wrinkling. An explosive thud followed, slamming on the porcelain floor.
Your knees buckled, but you knew not to fall on the floor then and clung on the same door you were pounding on. The house won’t leave you alone if you collapsed. It took you several excruciating long minutes to put a foot after another to the kitchen. The path from the foyer to there was not long, but it felt like miles to you.
A whimper choked out from your dry throat when your eyes landed on a pile of paper shopping bags on the kitchen island. Each were filled to the brim with the essentials and your usual purchases. You fell on your knees then, your attention glued on your local grocery store’s logo.
When was it the last time you even left the house?
“Please,” you sobbed, “let me leave…”
A beep pierced your hearing from your right and you dared to turn your head away from the house’s proud accomplishment on the island. It was from the oven, sparkling as if it had never been cooked on before. Your eyes strayed upward and landed on its digital clock.
It said, N0.
No door would open. Every window stayed fixed. Each attempt you’ve made to escaped had been thwarted by puzzling, and occasionally ridiculous, means. The house was generous enough to grant you accesses to the backyard, the only times you could experience the sun itself—even the weathers, yet it was fortified by tall fences.
You would have no luck trying to climb out of the backyard too. Several times, the fence would seemingly stretched to the sky, making you exhausted for trying. Other times, a gardening hose would’ve snaked to your ankle and forbade you from attempting an escape. Even trees inside the yard would’ve plucked you off from your climb and thrown you on soft landings like your poor vegetable garden.
You were never allowed to leave. There is no escape.
As you started sobbing to the floor, tears slipping from your eyes, soothing music from some unknown source (your phone, maybe) started playing. Don't you cry tonight—I still love you, baby—Don't you cry tonight, the lyrics did not help and you only wailed louder in turn.
The air started to warm, seemingly wrapping your body in an embrace, but you found no comfort in it. No comfort in your prisoner’s adoration for you. You were all alone in this awful living house.
And to think it was all started when you noticed how the walls were strangely breathing.
—note: uhh well this is an odd one! but imagine having a house taking care of you, feed you, and you would never need to shop again! probably no bills too because itd just power everything for you and keep you warm / cool!! the possibilities…
still, hope you enjoyed my take anyway?
#my writing#concept#yandere imagines#yandere imagine#yandere#exophilia#tetrophilia#[??? i guess??]#reader insert#gn reader#sentient house#you x sentient house#sentient house x you#sentient house x reader#reader x sentient house#tw: confinement#tw confinement#sfw#unedited#long post
690 notes
·
View notes
Text
Uada || Thirteen
- It’s been a hot minute since I wrote for my girl. This one hurts. Warning: angst, descriptions of blood, sad Doctor, brief Doctor Who season 13 spoilers
Uada: Haunting
The song I used in this was just too good to pass up. If you’re on Tiktok I’m sure you’ve probably heard it, but it’s called The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley. And let’s ignore the fact that Thirteen could and can heal with regeneration energy for the purposes of this fic.
tag: @fabulouspotatosister
***
“Doctor? You’re doing that thing again.”
She hasn’t realized she zones out more often then not anymore. It’s hard when your infinite attention that you’ve always poured into adventures of a lifetime is now consumed by the life you had.
The life you lost of the one being you dared yourself to love.
Poor, poor her. Poor little Doctor who never gets to keep the ones she loves. They’re like dust, slipping through her fingers again and again and again until she just gets too tired of trying to hold them.
That was the mistake she’d made with you. She’d let you slip away, and it had gotten you killed.
But your presence still haunts her TARDIS.
“Me? I’m not doing anything, I’m fine!” She plasters a gleeful expression to hide on her face because oh is she bleeding underneath, but Yaz and Dan are not and cannot see the wounded Time Lord underneath the flesh. Her soul has so many scars on it by now it’s a miracle she’s still a person. That her hearts still beat. “C’mon now, we’re off to-“
Yaz waves a dismissive hand and moves off to chat with Dan. Good. The Doctor cannot take one more minute of her concern. It’s not her problem. It’s not her burden, she doesn’t need to know about it.
“So, anyway… this-“
***
Bright laughter echoes across the sky as you bound through what appears to be an endless field of wildflowers. The TARDIS stands vigil on a lone hill behind you that oversees the field and leads into a grove of dogwood trees in front of a pair of waterfalls.
“Doctor! Doctor, you should come look at this!”
The remarkable thing about you is that you find beauty in simplicity. That is so rare for her to find in her companions. You find beauty in the color of the leaves on the trees and the curve of a smile and the way sunlight hits the water at just the right angle to make it shimmer.
And well, well… that’s part of why she fell in love with you. Because even as someone who falls in love with simplicity, you look at her - her in her complex wonder, ancient and wonderful, terrifying and glorious - like she’s the sun and you just want to bask in her warmth for the rest of her days.
The Doctor strides up beside you as you start pointing out the views around you, eagerly jabbering on and on about color and vibrance and life and how much you love it.
But she’s not looking at it.
She’s looking at you.
***
Aimlessly wandering around the TARDIS for God knows how long ends right outside of a gilded door. A door with your name scrawled across it in a previous faces perfect cursive, now faded as it hasn’t been touched up in far too long.
She should do that soon.
The Doctor runs a finger over that finely printed word - such a beautiful word - before she lets herself into your room. It’s the first time she’s been in here since your passing.
Right off the bat, she notices the envelope on your bed. The bed you refused to not make because you were so insistent on keeping your spaces clean and organized. It was the only way you could find peace amidst the constant chaos of adventuring.
Another thing she loved about you.
She sits down wordlessly on the bed and opens the envelope before she begins to read.
My dear, dear Doctor
I don’t know why I’m really writing this. If things have gone according to plan right now, you’re reading this after I’m gone. Don’t mourn me. Don’t be sad, sweet one. I died for a good reason.
I died for the person I loved.
Thirteen stops cold and tilts her head towards the ceiling to blink away the tears blurring her eyes. This is ridiculous. Why did she have to go and fall in love with a human?
Her humans were always too brave.
Her eyes flicker back down to the pages of the letter to keep reading. She hasn’t noticed that her hands are shaking yet.
And yes, you idiot. It’s always been you. I know you know I fell in love with the simple things in life. The simple joys. But you.. you were always my simple joy. My simple, brilliant angel who deserved more then the galaxy gave you.
Do you remember the time you took me to see the stars? Those stars… you went on and on and on about them and the galaxies you’d seen, the people you’d met… but that’s not what I was interested in.
I only ever looked at you.
Always you.
***
Late night chats about her past were always a gift. The Doctor considered herself to be a private person when it came to matters of her life. The things she’d been through, the people she’d lost. There was so many things that she’d seen across Thirteen faces and it was so rare for her to be willing to share them with people.
Which was why you were amazed by the fact that she’d initiated this conversation by bringing two steaming cups of tea as a peace offering for pissing you off earlier that morning. The four of you had gone off to some planet you didn’t care enough to remember at the moment and had gotten yourself into a predicament with the locals, as expected, in which The Doctor had offered herself up if it meant her companions went safely.
When she escaped, you punched her so hard in the face that it turned her eye black. You marveled at your own strength because no one had ever made you that mad before but she knew immediately when you disappeared for the rest of the day that she’d done more to upset you then she had Dan and Yaz. You were different. You’d always been different, ever since she’d brought you on as a companion in her previous face.
“My pretty face feels better, by the way.”
You wrapped your hands around the mug she settled in them and smiled softly as she sat beside you. “When did I ever say your face was pretty?”
“You didn’t have to.” A light blush scattered across your cheeks as she sipped her drink - she likes chamomile, it’s about the only drink she can down without wanting to gag - and kicked her legs back and forth. So ancient but still so innocent. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“My eyes, hm? Why don’t you use your eyes and tell me about all these pretty little stars out here and all those people you’ve met?” The grin you’re rewarded with is well worth it. Her smile is so radiant and so rare that you will take whatever glimpse of it you can get.
“Okay then.” The Doctor scooted closer and began pointing out the constellations and within a moment, she’s rambling. “Let’s start with The Chin. He never knew how to shut up and constantly made a fool of himself.” Her hand waved in the direction of the constellation to your right. “That one, Orion! Wonderful bloke, one time he..” You smiled warmly to yourself and tucked your legs beneath you as you rested your head on her shoulder. You’re gone before she even notices. “And Amy, poor Amy. That girl was all legs and he loved it.” Thirteen glanced down at you and softened as she reached upward to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Brilliant. My precious human is fragile and wonderful and oh, so brilliant.”
She somehow managed to pick you up and shut the TARDIS doors before ambling down the hallway to her room so you could sleep peacefully. Not your room.
Hers.
It’s only after she managed to navigate the minefield of scattered papers and pens and data pads and trinkets from other planets - because she’s terrible at cleaning a room she’d not been in in quite some time - that The Doctor laid you down and tucked you in. Warm. Humans liked to be warm. Humans also liked contact. Needed it. Craved it.
You tilted your head up to meet her gaze in the dark of her bedroom before your hand reached out to wrap around her wrist. You didn’t miss the imperceptible hitch in her breath at the skin to skin contact - something she clearly never got enough of - as you tightened your grip. “Love,” You murmured tiredly. “Stay.”
“But you need your rest-“
“I need you.”
And well, she wasn’t going to deny you that. Or herself. There’s sometimes that The Doctor cannot afford to be selfish. But right now in the quiet darkness of her room, The Doctor allowed herself the selfish desire to be held as she tucked herself into your side and melted into your embrace.
“You’re going to stay?” She whispered into the dark, allowing herself that rare moment of vulnerability where the words in her head she never dared to say in front of others were spoken aloud.
You nod and press your face into her shoulder.
“Eternally.”
***
And well.. I suppose that’s where I went wrong. Not intentionally of course because you are ideally the best thing that’s ever happened to me. All the places we’ve gone and the adventures you willingly shared with me… they’re the things I remember. The littlest joys I felt on those trips will be something I carry with me forever. Just like that ring the TARDIS gave me to give to you. A promise.
She pauses to swallow the bile in her throat as her fingers drift down to the chain on her neck. A ring. Not just any ring… but a ring with a red jewel that happened to have her name - her given name that no one else ever knew but River Song - written on it in Gallifreyan. Thank her lucky stars that you had no idea what it meant.
“I just know it’s a beautiful word.”
And well… if that hadn’t had The Doctor blushing for twenty minutes. That’s when she realizes it, in that moment you put that ring on her finger - which she moves to a chain later - like you’re sealing an oath.
“Is this a secret wedding?! I’ve had loads of those!”
“Secret?” You grin and tap the end of her nose, which she scrunches. It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “I don’t think it’s any secret anymore, Doctor.”
And that’s when she could’ve passed out from the way her hearts stopped beating. A declaration. You loved her.
Her eyes flicker back downward. Red.
And I’m sure you’re wondering why the TARDIS chose a ring with a red jewel. Well… The red means I love you…
***
The red means I lose you…
It all happens so fast, when it does. She’s seen this happen a million times. They all blur together after a while like the words to a familiar song. Rose, River, Donna, The Ponds... they all leave together after a while. They all haunt her.
You are no different.
Cause my insides are red, and yours are too
And the red on my face is matching you
The gunshot rings in her ears. You’re sprinting toward her across the field, just moments after being freed from your captors, right into the arms of The Doctor. But no one ever plays nice when the Time Lord is involved.
“Goodness, you’re bleeding!” You fall into her arms in slow motion with a smile on your face. Why are you smiling? You’re injured.
“What a wonderful feeling.”
Yaz and Dan are covering her as she struggles to pick you back up and take you back to the TARDIS. Her steps are heavy, as are her hearts, and The Doctor cannot figure out why she can’t just walk.
Time is surely not on her side today.
You’re down and you’re pleading
“No!” She screams, hoarse and raw and hysterical across a raging battlefield. “You are not dying today! Not you! Not you!”
Her legs give out too far away from the TARDIS. There’s so much going on and her mind is on fire but it’s the touch of blood stains that bring her back to reality.
My head is just reeling
“Doctor,” You murmur. Blood stained fingers shake as they reach upward to sweep across her cheeks. Your chest rattles with the force of every breath and you’re certain there’s blood in your lungs. “Let me go.”
She shakes her head. Again again again because this is not real and you are not dying-
The red means I love you....
“The red-” Her hair is longer and wavy in that way you so desperately love and its hiding the inevitable flow of tears in The Doctor’s eyes as she tilts your body upward so she’s able to press her forehead to yours. “Means I lose you.”
You nod shakily. There’s not much more you can do, it means your breaths are few and far between and your heart is slowing down. There’s not much time now.
Breathe, Doctor. one...
“You’re going to be okay.” You whisper. Your gaze is unfocused, breathing labored. “You’ll make it okay.”
Two...
“Not if you’re not with me.”
For one last effort, you muster all the strength you can to smile before you whisper, “I’ll always be with you.”
Three.
You hadn’t meant it to be in a bad way. You knew that she’d carry you forever, tucked away in her heart with the other people she’d fallen in love with along the way. You hoped.. prayed... that she would remember all the things you taught her. To love simply. Love boldly.
She will, but it won’t be enough.
Because you’ll haunt her just like the rest do.
When Yaz and Dan find her again, she’s rocking back and forth in the dirt with your blood on her cheeks and coat and your body tucked into her own. If either of them mention that she’s crying, they don’t mention it. They give the both of you privacy.
They only hear one thing.
“Don’t leave me...”
***
That ring is a promise that no matter when or where, I will love you. Before we met, I will love you and after we meet, I will always love you. You are worthy of being loved.
Don’t shut your companions out. They have good hearts and they’re good people.
Yaz swallows the knot in her throat as she approaches the bedroom door. It took alot of coaxing on Dan’s part to get her to come down here and approach The Doctor. She knew and saw the relationship the two of you had and was secretly thrilled that The Doctor had someone she could be vulnerable with.
But you’d asked her to keep one last promise, to take care of her the way you had. Yazmin Khan doesn’t break promises.
“Doctor?” She calls out softly. “Can I come in?”
Talk to them about me. About the people who’ve come and gone, about your adventures. It’s only a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet someone as legendary as you are, Doctor. Let them have the moment of wonder that I did when I met you.
They’ll never forget it.
Forever Yours.
The Doctor’s eyes flicker upward again as she waves a hand to the doorway where Yaz stands. “Sure, Yaz.” She smiles warmly and wipes at her cheeks. “C’mon in.”
“Is this-”
“Mhm.”
Yaz settles down beside The Doctor and watches as she rolls a thin ring with a red jewel between her fingers and loosely grips a letter in her hands. “What do you have there?”
The Doctor hesitates before she remembers your words and replies, “A letter from Y/N.” The two women turn to lock eyes. “Have I ever told you how we met?”
Yaz smiles. “No, but I’d love to hear it.”
And on some days like those ones where they curl up in your room and reminisce in your memory, the haunting is far less painful than other days.
The Doctor never takes that ring off though. It’s a nice reminder. Love simply. Love boldly.
She can do that now. She’ll try to because she’s doing it for you.
#thirteenth doctor x reader#thirteenth doctor#13th Doctor#the doctor x reader#doctor who x reader#doctor who imagines#doctor who oneshots
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ivory Runs Red: 4/6
Just look at this cover art by @cocohook38 !!!!! Isn’t it amazing? I just can’t stop staring at it. She is so talented and spent so much time working on this, please head over to her blog and give her some love.
This chapter is sort of a bridge chapter (no pun intended) where we begin to discover connections between all the characters. Belle especially is tied to Emma in a surprising way.
Massive thanks again to my beta @demisexualemmaswan and everyone in the @cssns !
Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …
Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)
Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
Also on Ao3
Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian@hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna @distant-rose @courtorderedcake @winterbythesea @thesschesthair @killian-whump @thisonesatellite @batana54 @it-meant-something @xsajx @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling
Chapter Four: Red
“Neal Gold,” Belle said, her voice trembling with excitement, “no wonder it got covered up.”
Belle struggled with an ancient tome on the top shelf in the library’s genealogy room, and Killian rushed to help her. When they set it atop the metal desk nearby, a cloud of dust billowed up. The genealogy room was hidden away in the basement too.
“I still can’t believe Graham went to the bridge,” Belle continued. He’d never seen her so giddy with excitement. “This will show everyone Killian! You aren’t crazy!”
Killian nodded weakly. He knew it was true, and he knew that Graham getting Neal’s last name from Emma was a huge break for them, but he was starting to worry. He wanted to help Emma by solving her murder, but he also didn’t want to lose her. Didn’t ghosts linger because they had unfinished business? If he, Belle, and Graham, took care of Emma’s unfinished business, then would she . . . what? Move on to paradise? Cease to exist?
“Killy, did you hear what I said?”
He shook the thoughts from his head and focused on Belle who stood over the huge book, her finger pointing to its binding.
“Um, sorry. What did you say?”
“I tried to look up Swan, Emma, but the entire S section is missing.”
Belle’s fingers ran along the torn edges of several pages. Killian ran his hand wearily down his face.
“Of course it is. So no birth certificate there either.”
“Wait a minute!” Belle exclaimed. “We know she died in 1894, and we know she was sixteen years old.”
“Which means she was born in 1878. We figured that out already. But the birth certificates from that entire year are also missing, remember?”
Belle nodded. “Yes, yes, the Gold family had money and power and were very thorough, but they may not have thought about baby announcements.”
Killian grinned. “Parents put baby announcements in the newspaper! Belle, you’re a genius!”
They ran down the short hallway to the microfilm room. Belle quickly pulled out the film for 1878 and put it in the machine. Once they figured out where the social section of the paper was located, they were able to scroll fairly quickly. And then - there it was. Just a few short lines:
David and Mary Margaret Swan are pleased to announce the birth of their daughter, Emma Eva Swan, on October 22nd, 1878 at three o-clock in the afternoon. She is welcomed by her paternal grandmother, Ruth Elizabeth Swan, and her maternal grandfather, Leopold Blanchard.
******************************************************
“David and Mary Margaret,” Emma whispered.
Killian tightened his hold around her shoulders and brushed a kiss against the crown of her head. “They were your parents.”
Emma nodded slowly, and he watched her facial expression under the light of the waning moon. He could practically see happy memories light up her face.
“I remember them,” she whispered. “We didn’t have a lot of money, but we were very happy. We lived on a farm.”
She dropped her head onto Killian’s shoulder and let out a contented sigh. They remained that way for a long moment, silently watching the stars twinkle overhead.
“She had a beautiful smile,” Emma told him quietly, “and he used to cup my head so tenderly whenever he hugged me. That’s all I remember, though. Their faces are even fuzzy in my memory.”
“I’m sorry.”
She turned in his embrace so she could look him in the eye. “Don’t be. I wouldn’t remember anything if it weren’t for you. Thank you, Killian.”
She pulled his head down gently so she could press her lips to his. They lost themselves in the passion of their kisses.
***********************************************************
Killian sat with Belle once again in the library’s musty basement. Books with cracked leather bindings were piled around them: genealogy records, property records, and marriage certificates. With names and the information that Emma grew up on a farm, they were able to piece together the history of the Swan and Gold families.
There was no evidence, however, of the Swan’s reporting their daughter was missing. In fact, aside from the birth announcement in the paper, there was no evidence that Emma Swan had existed at all. Everytime they got close, records were conveniently missing. Pages had clearly been torn out of several books, and years worth of Storybrooke Mirror and Portland Press articles were missing from the microfilm records.
“It’s so obvious, though,” Belle exclaimed in frustration, slamming yet another large book shut. “Neal Gold falls in love with Emma Swan, a poor farmer’s daughter. His family would never approve of the relationship, so he never plans on marrying her. She’s just a good time to him.”
“I’m still a little grossed out by how old he was,” Killian muttered.
Those records hadn’t been missing. Neal Gold was absolutely, unequivocally twenty nine years old when he met fourteen year old Emma Swan. Which made him thirty one when he got her pregnant and murdered her.
Disgusting.
“Belle? Did you hear me?”
His friend had gone completely pale, her finger frozen in the center of a yellowed page. Killian got up and leaned over her shoulder.
“What’s this?”
She flipped the heavy leather volume back to the cover with a deep sigh. Killian leaned further over his shoulder and read the title out loud.
“The Life, Impact, and Genealogy of Storybrooke’s Founding Family: The Golds. Well that’s not pretentious at all,” he snorted. Belle giggled. “By -”
He cut off, reeled back, and looked at Belle, who nodded in affirmation. “By Roderick Gaston?”
“There’s more,” Belle told him, flipping back to the page that had left her frozen.
It was a family tree, and Killian scanned it quickly. At the top was Robert Gold, the founder of Storybrooke, with his wife Milah’s name beside his. Below that, it listed their only son: Neal Gold. He married Tamara Gold in 1894, the same year Emma died.
“Well, there’s another motive for murder,” Killian murmured, “not only did he get a teenager pregnant, he was cheating on his fiance.”
“Keep going,” Belle whispered.
Neal and Tamara had three children: Bonnie, Felix, and Gretchen. The oldest daughter, Bonnie, had married Roderick Gaston, and they had two sons: Lewis and Mitchum Gaston.
“Wait - isn’t Mike’s dad Mitch Gaston?”
“Yes,” Belle told him softly, “and I met his grandfather once, too. His name is Roderick. I never put two and two together before, but the man was the worst snob. He kept asking who my people were and going on and on about how the Gaston’s were connected to Storybrooke’s finest families.”
“So this means that your boyfriend -”
“Is the descendant of Emma’s murderer.”
*******************************************************
“Where the hell are you going?”
Killian jumped at the sound of his brother’s voice. He whirled away from the back door to find Liam standing in the kitchen with the phone in his hand. Killian could hear the loud, grating beeping of the line as it went dead.
“Who were you talking to at 3 am?” Killian shot back.
Liam narrowed his eyes then slowly put the phone back onto the receiver that hung on the wall. He took his time untangling the long cord before turning back to face Killian.
“Something’s happened, little brother.”
Liam’s voice was so full of fear, shock, and sadness that Killian didn’t even bother correcting him on the little brother label.
**********************************************************
The girl in the hospital bed couldn’t possibly be Belle. Her eyes were wild and darted around the room, her hair was a tangled mass around her face, and when she saw Killian she began to scream.
“I saw her, Killy! The ghost! The blood, the blood, the blood . . .”
Orderlies ran in and grabbed her before she could lunge from the bed. She fought them tenaciously, her back arching and her eyes rolling back in her head.
“Ivory runs red, ivory runs red. He’s dead, he’s dead.” She started to laugh maniacally as one orderly managed to get a syringe into her veins. They wrestled her to the bed and strapped her down, but she continued to speak, her words slurring. “He’s dead, dead, dead.”
She arched her back one more time, mumbling about ivory and red, shaking her head back and forth. Then she began to say the rhyme they had learned as children, singing it to a morbid little tune.
“When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead.”
Killian felt the blood rush from his head, leaving his skin cold in the sterile room as he watched Belle’s breaths even out. He knew the kinds of drugs running through her veins, God did he know. He also knew no one would believe her.
Mike Gaston was dead, and Killian couldn’t muster a modicum of grief.
#cs ff#captain swan ff#cssns21#captain swan supernatural summer#horror#ghost story#strange lieutenant duckling#lol just trust me#happy ending of sorts
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Doctor Is In (Part Two of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)
Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?
Tags: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Attempted Theft, Secrets, Suspicions,
Rating: T
Warnings: Mild Language, Slight Sexual Innuendo
Word Count: 2800~
This work, as well as the other completed parts of this series, have been crossposted to my AO3!
-----
To Peter’s credit, it had all started with good intentions… okay, semi-good intentions, but that was the best defense he had to offer.
One moment he’s speeding into a funky building with a cool glass window looking for a knick-knack to take home to Y/N and the next he’s falling through endless darkness, searching for anything he could possibly grab onto. It was hell. Worst of all, though, he couldn’t use his speed. The world was only emptiness and darkness for as far as he could reach. Well, it was until he hit the ground.
It was a sudden jolt after what felt like hours of captivity when Peter hit the cool tiles of the flooring below him. The bright light after total darkness burned his eyes. He winced against it, lifting his arms to shield his face. There was no time to acclimate to his new surroundings, though, which were definitely not part of the building he had been inside before he might add, because the second his vision came back into focus a booming voice rang out from behind him.
“Peter Maximoff, what purpose did you have for breaking into the Sanctum Sanctorum?”
Peter spun around quickly on the ground to find a man floating behind him. Wait, floating? He didn’t even have time to question how the stranger knew his name while he was questioning what the hell he was. Was he a mutant? The man looked furious, his red cape billowing out behind him in an almost menacing manner while he stroked his goatee, eyebrows pinched together with rage. Peter had no clue what his deal was or who the hell he was looking at but he did know he had to calm him down fast if he wanted to avert disaster.
Apparently, he was thinking too long though because he wasn’t fast enough.
“I’ll ask you one last time,” the man’s hands came down to chest level, whirring with some sort of orange power, “why did you break into the Sanctum Sanctorum? This is your last chance,”
Somewhere in the distance, a dull thud sounded against the tile, like someone dropping a purse or bag. Peter didn’t have time to think about that, though. He was too busy saving his own life. All he had to do was get to his feet so he could run off! Unfortunately, that was better said than done.
“Woah, Woah, Woah!” he scrambled backward trying to stand but found his feet bound with the same orange sparks that were growing by the second in his attacker’s hands, “I have no clue what the hell a Sanctum Sanctorum is! I think you’ve got the wrong guy, man,”
His assailant cocked his head to the side. “So you’re telling me some other inhumanly fast kleptomaniac mutant from another dimension broke through all of my wards and tried to steal priceless magical artifacts from the Sanctum?”
Peter shrugged nonchalantly. “Magical artifacts? Dude, magic isn’t real. You’ve got the wrong guy,”
Thankfully, the man sighed in exhaustion, letting the orange sparks in his palms disappear as he pinched the bridge of his nose leaving only the ones around Peter’s ankles remaining. For the first time in his life, Peter was glad to be annoying.
“Jesus, I should have had my coffee before dealing with you…”
“I know right?” Peter propped himself up on his hands, “it’s always tragic when you catch the wrong guy, but I’m sure you’ll find your thief eventually. In fact, I think I saw some super speedy dude running towards Central Park when I was walking past that fancy building with the big circle window. That’s so weird! Maybe you should let me go so you can go find your guy,”
The man only seemed to get more pissed off the further Peter dug himself into his own grave. “Oh, I’m not planning on letting you go any time soon. I’m just avoiding a reckoning by letting your keeper know I’m taking you into the Avenger’s custody before we go,”
He was so screwed. “That’s not a-”
Before Peter could even finish his sentence, a crash echoed from across the room.
“STEPHEN STRANGE,”
Now, Peter couldn’t decide if he was saved or even more screwed than before.
There, across the room of what he had now gathered to be a large exhibit at some sort of museum, was Y/N. To say she looked furious would be an understatement.
The art on the walls seemed to shake in her wake as she stormed into the open center of the room, eyes boring holes into Peter’s assailant as she rolled up the sleeves of her paint-stained denim button-up. He could only imagine that this was the reckoning the magic dude was trying to avoid.
The man, Stephen, didn’t waver despite Y/N’s entrance. “Would it kill you to just use my title? I got my doctorate for a reason, you know,” His tone was flat and almost bored as Y/N seethed.
“Fuck you,” she spat, “what the hell are you doing with Peter? And bringing him here of all places? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible Avenger,”
“And I thought you were supposed to keep this menace under control. It looks like we both have a few responsibilities we aren’t keeping up with, huh?”
Across the floor, Peter winced. He hadn’t intended on getting anyone in trouble, he was just looking for a little fun to pass the time and maybe a housewarming gift that would fit in with the rest of Y/N’s antique decor. How was he supposed to know that a crazy, magic, floating guy would take him to what he could only assume was magic prison for breaking into his wizard’s lair? Surprisingly, Y/N picked up his movement.
“Peter, are you okay?” Her eyes never left Strange, flaming with a ferocity that bordered on homicidal, but her voice softened considerably as she spoke to him. He was quick to respond.
“I’m all good! A little tied up at the moment, but it’s nothing I can’t handle!” He shouted back.
Y/N nodded. “Good, just stick tight while I deal with this asshole,”
As the last words left her lips all the softness she had mustered for Peter’s sake dissolved, leaving behind pure, unbridled anger once more.
“You had no right to take him, Strange. We made a deal,”
“You’re right, we did make a deal,” Stephen responded, floating to the ground and taking a step closer to Y/N, “but my duties as Sorcerer Supreme will always come first,”
“That has nothing to do with him! He poses no threat to this universe!”
“He was attempting to steal extremely powerful magical artifacts, Y/N! If a mutant from another dimension had gotten their hands on the Book of Vishanti or the Clock of the Ages who knows what might have happened?”
Y/N stilled. “Peter,” her voice wasn’t the same as it had been when she was shouting at Strange, but it also wasn’t half as gentle as it has been before, “did you steal anything from Stephen?”
Peter, still dazed from the entirety of the experience, was quick to defend himself.
“No! No, I didn’t steal anything!”
One sharp look from Stephen and Y/N sent him spiraling for an excuse.
“Okay, I went in with the intention of stealing, but I had no idea that stuff was magical! I didn’t even know wizards existed! Witches I understood but wizards too? In the middle of New York? Besides, all of this is a moot point! I didn’t actually take anything,”
Surprisingly, Y/N’s expression seemed to soften once again. “See, Stephen? Peter didn’t mean any harm. Now let him go, and this can all be a thing of the past,” As she spoke, he could have sworn that her eyes began to faintly glow.
“I still don’t think it’s a great idea to let him roam free,” Stephen ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and the restraints around Peter’s ankles tightened slightly.
“Then you’ll have to take him from me,” Y/N brought her hands up, small rippling balls of light beginning to grow in her palms. Peter had never been so scared and aroused in his life. Was this the ‘small power’ she had mentioned to him when he moved in?
“I have remained civil with you and the mages of your order, Strange, but you have no power over me, especially on my own home turf. You lack the time stone now, so you know what will happen if you and I go toe to toe again. Besides, none of that matters. Peter is mine. Mine to protect and defend until he returns to his rightful place in his universe. So, will you let him go, or will we have to settle this the old-fashioned way?”
Y/N’s eyes were definitely glowing now, a brilliant green gleaming from within her as a rough breeze began flowing in from the door across the room. Stephen made no move to attack though. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “You can have your man child back Y/N, calm down,”
Slowly, the glow dissipated, the orbs of light shrinking into nothingness as she lowered her hands. “Thank you, Stephen,”
In an instant, it was as if the pair had gotten along the whole time.
He nodded. “Don’t thank me, just keep him away from ancient magical secrets next time,” Strange paused as if he was finished speaking, but then chuckled softly. It was the most human Peter had ever seen him. “You know how this ends, Y/N. We both do. Are you really sure you want to go through with this?”
It was Y/N’s turn to nod. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but I made my choice a long time ago. There has never been another path for me. Please respect that,”
Peter was clueless as to what any of their exchange meant, too busy rubbing the ache out of his newly freed ankles to think too deeply about whatever deep exchange was happening in front of him, but a nagging feeling in his chest made him think that it must have something to do with him.
Then, in a burst of golden light, Stephen Strange was gone, leaving Y/N and Peter alone as they took in everything that had just happened. It was silent for a moment, the two of them caught between being stunned and glad to see each other, before Y/N’s angry facade melted away.
“What a fucking asshole,” she snickered, making her way over to Peter and offering him a hand, “I hate that guy,”
Peter took her hand and, with a soft pull, was finally upright again. “I know, right? He seems like a total douchebag,”
“Right? Like, yeah it’s terrible enough to kidnap you and try to take you into Avengers custody, but trying to get me to hand you over at my job? That’s just rude on a whole new level,”
“You work here?” Peter gestured at the art on the walls, making Y/N smile.
“Yeah, this is where I go every day. Welcome to the Brooklyn Museum!” She began to lead him out towards the door, linking her arm around his in a strangely intimate act. Peter was sure that she didn’t mean it like that but something about her closeness made his heart flutter.
He guffawed as they walked, passing happy couples and exhibits packed full. “It’s cool here, but I just assumed you worked somewhere… I dunno, more hero-y?”
Y/N laughed. “Everyone always does, but I’ve been attached to restoring paintings since before I ever took up the whole hero gig. I guess it’s the one stable thing I’ve had for my whole life.”
Watching Y/N’s face light up almost made Peter forget that less than an hour earlier he’d been shoved in an infinite dark dimension and threatened with imprisonment by a wizard. It was like she was the only thing worth seeing in a building full of priceless art.
“I’ve always felt strangely comfortable in museums,” she continued, hand brushing against Peter’s bicep in what he could only assume was an accident, “being surrounded by history just feels right to me. It’s like coming home,” Peter couldn’t help but grin, holding back a snicker.
“I’m guessing that’s the real reason you offered to take me in,” he teased, gently ribbing Y/N and making her giggle, “just couldn’t help but bring home a blast from the past who still has their youthful good looks,”
“You caught me! I just couldn’t resist your elderly charms,”
In a moment of poor judgment, Peter found himself leaning into her touch but was surprised to find her leaning right back into him. His heart began to pound faster. He could only hope she couldn’t tell. The feeling of being close to Y/N, listening to her laugh, being the shoulder she leaned on… it was like nothing Peter had ever felt before.
The short remainder of their walk to Y/N’s destination was mostly quiet, but neither of them tried to pull away from the other. Their moment only ended when they reached a large door labeled ‘Staff Only’. Y/N finally unlinked her arm from Peter’s before turning to face him. He was proud to note the flush on her face.
“I’m gonna go grab my bag,” she muttered, worrying the edge of her lip with her teeth, “do you mind taking me home? Traveling with you would probably be faster than hailing a taxi, and way less expensive,”
Between the thought of getting to be close to Y/N again and the excitement of getting to show off his powers, Peter was eager to please. “Sure thing! Do you want me to grab your bag for you? I’m sure I’d be quicker?” He emphasized his statement with a wink. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the desired effect.
Instead, Y/N looked almost nervous as she shook her head no. “I’ve got it, Peter,” she insisted.
He quirked up an eyebrow in surprise. “You sure? We could be home in a minute tops, just say the word,”
“There’s just a lot of important museum stuff back there! I trust you Peter, but this is priceless art we’re talking about, so I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll be back in a second!”
She slowly backed towards the door, offering him one last smile before disappearing into the darkness beyond. Something about her expression turned Peter’s stomach. It wasn’t unfamiliar, she had acted similarly in a few days Peter had known her at seemingly random times, but it just seemed… suspicious, like there was something he should definitely know that he was being kept in the dark about. Despite everything, he shook off the feeling, chalking it up to him not understanding all the intricacies of this new universe. If love made him blind, he was willing to take that chance.
It only took a few minutes for Y/N to emerge, a small messenger bag in hand, but when she did she was joyful once again, offering Peter an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Did I miss anything while I was gone?”
He shook his head, pulling down his goggles and offering her his hand. “Not much, just the end of the world,”
She giggled. “So do I just hop on your back or what?”
Peter’s heart skipped a beat. In a second he was down on his knee. “All aboard,” He did his best to keep still as Y/N settled herself on his back, then he was lifting her easily, arms hooked under her knees as she giggled into his hair. “What’s so funny?”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders securely as he stood. “I just expected you to call yourself the Bohner express,”
It took all of Peter’s strength to keep his laughter under control. “You tell me that now? After the opportunity to use it has passed?”
Y/N squeezed him a little tighter. “I’m sure you’ll get to use it next time,”
The thought of a next time sent Peter’s heart rate through the roof. Oh, it was on.
“I’d hold on if I were you,” he said, smirking, “the Bohner express is leaving the station,”
Y/N was quick to snap back. “Let’s hope it doesn’t disappoint,”
“Oh Y/N, the Bohner express never disappoints,”
“Prove it,”
Peter had them back to the brownstone in record time.
#peter maximoff#peter maximoff x reader#evan peters#evan peters x reader#marvel#doctor strange#quicksilver#fanfic#wandavision
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
10 Days of Summer - Chapter 1
Hi so no one was really seeing this over on ao3 and I worked really hard on it, so I decided to give it a shot over here. The next 9 chapters will be coming soon, so follow me or the tag to see them!
- Mia x
*
It was the hottest summer Buckinghamshire had ever seen. The rolling fields were dusted with the final remnants of spring, as the less-resilient plants wilted and those suited to the sweltering conditions flourished. The sun sat high in the sky for so long that one began to wonder if the night would ever come. Of course, it always did, but was rarely accompanied by any sort of liberation from the fervor.
The only relief to be gleaned from the unnerving sensation of being cooked in your own skin could be found in the cool waters of a large, clear lake that sat beside a homely manor, nestled in the hills of the county. Hidden beneath the outstretched branches of various trees, the lake had been subject to many a morning swim or late-night gathering over the years. It was here, in fact, that the four marauders could be found, on the hottest day of August, 1975.
With Euphemia and Fleamont gone to France for the summer, the boys had taken the opportunity to spend their last 2 weeks at the Potter estate. Of course, James’ parents had been reluctant to let the boys stay there without a set of rules, and so they created a long list of guidelines, all of which the marauders had plans to break before their return to Hogwarts on the 1st of September. It had already been four blissful days of this, and they still had 10 to go when we join the group.
Sprawled in their various positions around the lake, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were all basking the shade of the trees, simply taking in this pocket of bliss they had found in a world that was becoming increasingly more war-like with each passing second. The sun was shining overhead and they were with each other. And in that moment, that was all they needed.
The silence was broken with a loud splash, followed by an indignant “OI!” Remus clambered out of the water and up the bank, his eyes fixed on is assailant, vengeance in his expression.
“You fucking moron! I was reading! You could have thrown any one of them into the lake! Merlin knows a good dip would’ve done Peter some good, but no! You had to choose me!” His outburst was cut short when he got close enough to take in Sirius’ expression. His face, far from showing any signs of regret, instead bore his signature Sirius Black smirk. One corner of his mouth was upturned, his nose scrunched in a way that suggested both innocence and the opposite. It was an expression that, on anyone else, would have looked out-of-place and frankly stupid, but that befitted Sirius’ features perfectly. Remus had often marveled at how it drew out his devilishly handsome side.
Having lost his train of thought completely, his wand limp in his hand, Remus decided the best thing to do was to go and find a nice warm patch of sun in which to dry off. Sirius, however, had other plans. Remus had barely taken two steps toward his towel before he was grabbed around the waist and thrown, for the second time that day, headfirst into the water.
Sinking was an enjoyable feeling. Down there, in the water, nothing could hurt you. It was all up to you. Sound became nothing but a detached concept, and time joined it in its alienation. You could sink forever, simply being engulfed by the soft waves of the water, and emerge not a second later. Remus did just that. As his head broke the surface, spluttering, he lashed out wildly and managed to grab hold of an ankle. Pulling hard, the owner of said ankle tumbled into the lake next to him, and Remus soon found himself floating, face to face, with Sirius, once again bearing that ridiculous grin.
As both of the boys tried to catch their breath, time stopped. And it was just them. Remus and Sirius, Sirius and Remus. Floating in that never-ending pool of possibilities. Breaths became heavy as an invisible force seemed to draw them closer, closer.
Their noses were nearly touching now Remus could see every detail of Sirius’ eyes from here. He could almost pinpoint the exact place where blue leaked into grey, which leaked into black. It was strange, really, how anyone’s eyes could be so captivating. Almost a point of curiosity. Eyes had a purpose. They captured light, which was then translated into information, which was then processed by the brain to take in the person’s surroundings. So why did all logic defy Sirius’ eyes to be so beautiful? They had no reason to be. It wasn’t to make it easier to see. It wasn’t to draw in a mate (because merlin, he needed no help with that), so why? Their breath mingled in the moist summer air, their lips inches apart. It was taking every ounce of restraint that Remus had in his not to close the gap and snog his best mate senseless, but then again, that was the norm when you were secretly in love with your best friend.
The tensions was shattered by the snap of a book closing.
“Alright, boys, I’m bored”, James announced, stowing Quidditch Through the Ages in the small bag he had brought down from the house. The boys sprung apart, all nervous coughing and straightening of hair. Remus hurriedly turned his back on his – what, crush? It was more than that. But he knew one thing for certain; now was not the time to figure it out. This was what he told himself as he climbed up the bank and rolled out onto the grass.
In an attempt to restore himself to his former state of nonchalance, Remus rolled his eyes sarcastically (quite successfully, given the situation he was actually thinking about).
“You’re reading that book again? You’ve barely taken your hands off of it all summer!”, he said, pulling Sirius up the bank after him (and definitely not thinking about the sensation of his friend’s warm, wet hand in his).
Sirius grinned. “Aw, lay off him Rem. This is the first year Lily had gotten him a birthday present. Honestly, I would be concerned if he read it any less than a thousand times.”
This comment was met with a playful shove from James, but the lovesick boy couldn’t hide his grin at the recollection of Lily’s favor. James shook the memory from his mind (with difficulty, it seemed).
“I’m bored. Let’s go to town, grab a milkshake or something.”
Sirius, always keen for an outing to the muggle town that was located less than a kilometer from the Potters’ house, agreed almost immediately. Peter followed suit at the mention of food, and began rummaging in his pocket for the stash of muggle money his parents had granted him for the holiday. Remus was somewhat more reluctant.
“I don’t know guys. It’ll be dark soon, and I don’t really want to go walking around a strange village in the middle of the night.”
“It’s not a strange village, Rem! Jamie grew up here!” (The use of the less-than-favorable nickname earned Sirius yet another shove). “Plus… there’s an antiques store. And last time I was there the owner said they’d be getting a new stock of books in this summer.”
“You know me too well”, Remus caved, and packed up his stuff. They went and dropped off their things at the main house, got changed into some town-going clothes and headed for the road that led down into the charming muggle settlement of Padbury.
**
It really was a lovely little town. Old cottages with thatched roofs skirted the border, with carefully-trimmed gardens of heather and honeysuckle. A beautiful old church sat in the town center, with a clock tower and a bell that frankly, shouldn’t still be operational, given it’s age. But, as many things in the town of Padbury, it seemed to be denied the effects of the passage of time, and instead chimed beautiful notes out over the countryside every hour.
The main road took the boys right into the middle of the town, where a collection of stores seemed to be waiting for them. The town square had everything, ranging from mechanics to diners, from supermarkets to florists. And, nestled in between a non-descript restaurant and a lavender-adorned wall, was a beautiful little antique store. Remus made a beeline for it, but was stopped in his tracks by James’ hand on his wrist.
“Come on Remus. Let’s go check out that comic-book store first! I love muggle comics, they’re so corny…”
Remus sighed, knowing that very few people could ever change his friend’s mind, and began to follow him across the street. But fortunately, Sirius was one of the people capable of performing that miraculous feat, and, in that moment, happened to be on Remus’ side.
“C’mon James. Remy doesn’t want to spend hours with you oggling at randos in spandex and getting inspiration for your next move at Evans. You take Pete over to the comic-book store, and Remus and I will go to the antiques shop.” Sirius shot a smile Remus’ way, which managed to both make his heart beat a million miles a second and stop it altogether.
James scoffed. “What do you want with an antique shop?”
“I have to get something for Reggie’s birthday, and he loves old dusty books and things. Plus, I have no desire to spend any amount of time dicussing whether or not Lily would think it was funny if you dressed up as Superman for halloween.”
Without giving James a chance to retort, Sirius dragged Remus back across the street and into the antique store before he even had a chance to register what was going on.
The second they entered the store, the rest of the world fell away. Somehow, the noise of the bustling street outside was silenced, and the only sound that could be heard was the ticking of an ancient grandfather clock that stood in the corner. Remus revolved on the spot, taking in every inch of the sequestered nook that they had just stumbled upon. Ornate carvings of all sorts sat in the windows, varying from animals to sprawling, intricate landscapes. Tapestries and paintings hung on the walls, each a moment of time, perfectly captured and eternalised on canvas. Furniture, bits and pieces and other oddments that had washed up in this place over the years were scattered haphazardly around the room, making for a display of authenticity that, although was now mostly gone from the world, seemed to have survived in this tiny corner of the English countryside. And the books. Oh, the books. They lined ever wall, and were stacked 10 high on shelves. Strewn and slid into every nook and cranny where they would fit. Not in any way categorized, but instead exactly where they were always meant to be. Delicate printings of Jules Verne, Ernest Hemmingway and even Shakespeare were mixed in with books as common as The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Remus closed his eyes and breathed. He breathed in the smell of dust and time. He breathed in the taste of the years these books had seen, the years he might catch a glimpse of between their pages. Be breathed because here, he could.
A soft hand rested on his shoulder and an even softer voice pulled him, somewhat reluctantly, from his reverie.
“Rem?”
Remus opened his eyes. It was Sirius. God, it was always Sirius.
“I’m going to look over here for something for Reggie”, he gestured to the carvings in the windows. “You take your time, okay? We have all day. Hell, we have all summer.”
Remus could do no more than nod as the comfortable weight on his shoulder lifted and he found himself alone again.
**
An hour and a half later, the boys exited the store with more books than anyone could possibly read, and two small, hollow carved flowers that Sirius had plans to enchant so that he could send his brother messages by placing a note inside his, and having it be transported to Regulus’.
They met up with James and Peter in the diner, and ordered four caramel milkshakes. When they came, Sirius whipped out his flask and added a little ‘extra flavour’, as he liked to call it. When the boys had finished their concoctions, they started to head home. However, it was quickly discovered that with the combined weight of Remus’ books, Sirius’ wooden flowers and James’ numerous gifts that he had gotten for Lily (“Maybe we should have gone with him, you know, for impulse control…”), it was going to be all but impossible to walk back to the manor. And so was hatched what was simultaneously the best and worst idea any of the marauders ever had. To rent a motorbike.
All they had to do was walk down to the mechanic down the street and rent one of the bikes they had going. They would only need it for a day, and would bring it back tomorrow. And so, the combined riches of James and Sirius making cost something of a trivial topic, the plan was enacted. The books were placed in a basket on the front, which was lowered so that Sirius could see. James’ takings from the trip were strapped (with slightly excessive security methods) to the back, and the flowers were placed in the side bags. After a few failed attempts at getting the bike started and close calls for the wooden ornaments, Sirius managed to be riding along next to the other boys at a steady pace. It took them no more than 20 minutes to get back home, at which point it occurred to them all that they were wizards, and could have easily bewitched all of the objects to float along beside them as they walked.
The boys ended the night collapsed around the living room fire. James charmed it so that it kept them cool, rather than warm, and Sirius entertained himself by making multi-coloured rainbows blossom from his wand. In the firelight, he looked over at Remus and smiled. Not a smirk, not a grin, a smile. And that smile what all it took for Remus to realise that he was totally and completely done-for. He was in love.
As Sirius went back to blowing bubbles, Remus began to drift off to sleep. The last coherent thought that entered his mind that night was this:
Merlin, it’s going to be a long 10 days.
*
I hope you liked it!!!
#10DaysOfSummer#wolfstar#marauders#maraudersera#siriusblack#remuslupin#jamespotter#hp#jily#peterpettigrew#lilyevans
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
Playlist. List 10 songs that relate to your muse. Then tag 4 friends to do this!
JESTER LAVORRE:
hooked on a feeling - blue swede & bjorn skifs ~ “ i’m hooked on a feeling. i’m high on believing. that you’re in love with me! ” ( it’s mostly the music i tie in with her but yeah :D )
tightrope - the greatest showman ~ “ some people long for a life that is simple and planned, tied with a ribbon. some people won’t sail the sea cause they’re safer on land to follow what’s written but i’d follow you to the great unknown, off to a world we call our own. ”
hey - liana flores ~ “ dear, you're full of fear. and i am a little too, but i’m also full of you long as you’re here. ”
times are hard for dreamers - ameile ~ “ they say times are hard for dreamers
and who knows? maybe they are people seem stuck or lost at sea
and i might be a dreamer but it's gotten me this far and that is far enough for me. ”
stars i trust - fly by night ~ “ dear tiny dots of twinkling light, it's time for me to say goodnight. there’s so much madness in this world but i feel safe cause I'm aware
you are up there. i trust stars, high in the skies. itrust stars, ancient and wise. i'm made from your dust! stars i trust. ”
two - sleeping at last ~ “ I know exactly how the rule goes, Put my mask on first.
No, I don't want to talk about myself. Tell me where it hurts, I just want to build you up, build you up Till you're good as new And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too. ”
would you be so kind? - dodie ~ “ let’s write a story. be in my book. you got to join me on my page. at least take a look. ”
not the same - MALINA ~ “ like a siren in the dark we are calling for a spark. from a new song, a new day, a new dream- w will find the life that’s living beneath our eyes. ”
sinners - lauren aqualine ~ “ our lives are stories waiting to be told. in search of silver linings we discovered gold. and judgment taught us that our hearts were wrong but they’re the one that we’ll look down upon. ”
teir abhaile riu - celtic woman ~ “ look how the light of the town, the lights of the town are shining now! tonight i'll be dancing around, i'm off on the road to galway now. “
tagged by: @inabsentiia !
tagging: @ambitiousillusions , @proelio-procusi ( cassandra ) , @feybled ( caduceus ) , @traavelers ( beau ) , @whyvernwind ( artie ) , @catharsy ( veth ) , & YOU! steal and tag me!
#teir abhalie riu + jester = heart eyes from Me#thank you for the tag this was fun !#{[ tagged ]}#{[ headcanons ]}
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
gardencarpet
(◞‸◟；)
f54af5fa59af9af96fa9
#彰化定點LINE-gg883691 #南投草屯定點彰化定點，員
orange315bwa-blog
orange
drakakiii
𝐀𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐡 𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐢 𝐞𝐝𝐰
ahm3diq
أحمد