#petty fights between petty skeletons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taizi · 9 months

Note

could you write something about the crew saving sanji from captivity, like maybe he was caught by marines or somthing, and they hadnt been feeding him, and the crew gets to cook for sanji for once or something like that?

It made sense that they would run into a halfway intelligent Marine grunt sooner or later.

“You don’t fight with your hands much,” he said, opening the file on the table in between them. “Weak arms? Nah, I’ve never heard of a sailor with weak arms. There must be another reason.”

He wasn’t anyone special. Sanji was familiar enough with the uniforms by now to tell at a glance that he wasn’t decorated the way the real heavy hitters were. Chief Petty Officer, maybe. Warrant Officer at best.

Sanji was a Straw Hat. He wasn’t going to break a sweat for anyone less than a Vice-Admiral. He made sure to say as much, to clear up any misunderstandings. The officer didn’t appreciate hearing it for some reason.

He put out a hand without looking up from the file. A guard by the door stepped forward and placed something in his palm.

It was a ball-peen hammer.

“You’re the cook. That’s why you protect your hands. You wouldn’t have a place in that famous crew of yours if you lost those.”

“Well, you’re partly right, at least,” Sanji admitted. “For someone stupid enough to spectacularly piss my captain off, that’s far more than I expected.”

The extraction team arrived in the form of an unhinged skeleton and a six-foot-tall reindeer that tossed his knife-point antlers hard enough to put a decent-sized hole in the doorframe, but only after two fingers were mangled on Sanji’s right hand and one was freshly broken on his left.

The officer whirled around at the sudden appearance of uninvited company—surprised for just a moment, and then gray-faced with fear.

“About time,” Sanji snarked, and wrenched his shackled hands hard enough that the chain links binding him to the floor snapped. He stood, stretched his spine, and flicked a disinterested look at the Marine officer, who went melting towards the back of the room on legs that wobbled like jelly. Disregarding him, Sanji added, “Did Robin have time to get those files she wanted? I stalled for ages.”

For a beat, neither of his nakama answered him. Then Brook’s jaw made a cracking noise like a gunshot, the way it does when he’s grinding his teeth, and Chopper shrieked, “Your hands!!”

Sanji glanced down at them. “Oh, yeah. Our mutual friend over there wasn’t very creative.”

It hurt like a bitch, but it was far from the worst thing he’d ever felt. If it had gone much further, he might have seriously considered deviating from the plan, but a few broken bones? His brothers used to do that just for fun.

Brook tossed his guitar over his shoulder, where it hung against his back by the strap looped across his chest, and withdrew his sword instead.

“I can be very creative,” he said, sing-song.

“We’re leaving!” Chopper proclaimed, and herded Sanji toward the door with his antlers. Sanji went, amused by the pushiness.

It’s much less amusing an hour later, when his fingers are splinted and wrapped carefully, and Chopper tells him in no uncertain terms that he’s banned from work until Chopper’s satisfied with how they’ve healed.

Sanji agrees easily, because Chopper is equal parts adorable and terrifying when it comes to the health and safety of their family. But when he slips into the galley to begin preparing supper, the reindeer is right on his heels, scolding, “Sanji! That’s work!”

“Hardly,” he scoffs. Then, “Wait, are you serious?”

Chopper throws up his little hooves, as exasperated as any healthcare professional four times his age. “Why would I joke? Your bones are broken. Put down that spatula or I’ll scream!”

Sanji puts down the spatula. He’s never felt this wrong-footed before in his life. What does one do in a kitchen they aren’t allowed to cook in? He shifts his weight and looks sideways at the pantry.

“Oh my god,” Nami says. She points at the table. “Sit.”

“This feels kind of absurd,” he says.

“So it’s completely on-brand, then,” Usopp says, frog-marching him to a chair. “Good to know.”

Sanji lets himself be bullied with a scowl, and tucks his hands under the table where they can’t get him into any more trouble. Zoro, from the other side of the table, snorts into his tankard. Carrot drapes herself over Sanji’s shoulders, faux-sympathetic, but her chest rumbles with subvocal animal laughter. Franky and Jimbei are grinning openly.

It’s not funny. It’s time to eat. After all that action, their bodies need to replenish nutrients. They need carbs and proteins. He could at least be making smoothies while everyone argues with him—he can multitask!

Luffy, whose face has been a thundercloud ever since they returned to Sunny, leaving the Marine base actively on fire in their wake, brightens suddenly.

“I got it!” he announces, and that’s his trainwreck tone of voice. The very familiar, always inevitable, ‘you can try to stop me but it’ll just end in tears if you do’ tone of voice. Sanji braces himself, but nothing could have prepared him for Luffy cheerfully declaring, “We’ll make dinner!”

“Uh, no,” Sanji says quickly.

“Captain’s orders,” Robin says peacefully.

She was angry with him before—in that careful, soft-spoken way she gets angry with her nakama that always leaves them feeling lower than dirt—for letting himself get hurt in even this unremarkable capacity. But now she meets his eyes with a smile that only the people aboard this ship are privileged to see, and he fumbles his half of the argument before he even has a chance to make it.

Within that time, half his crew have migrated to the kitchen proper, and Nami is heaving open the huge recipe book that lives in place of pride on the counter.

“Hey, hey, Sanji!” Luffy yells. “What do you want to eat?”

“This is really unnecessary,” he says, shifting to stand. Carrot becomes deadweight on his back, dangling there like the world’s weirdest scarf.

“We’ll survive without five star food for a few days,” Jimbei says dryly. “If I were you, I’d answer their question before they take matters into their own hands and decide for you.”

In the kitchen, things are already rapidly devolving. There’s a lot of clamoring around and shoving of shoulders. This crew would never agree on anything they couldn’t argue about for hours first. Luffy clambers up onto Yamato’s back to get a bird’s-eye view of the recipe book, stretching an arm over Nami’s own shoulder to point out every dish that catches his eye. Yamato is a cheerful, agreeable jungle-gym, not even batting an eye when Luffy’s grip on one of his horns causes his head to tilt slowly to the left.

If Sanji had known letting that measly little officer play his shitty power games would end like this, he would have kicked the creep in the mouth hard enough to shut him up permanently.

He taps his bandaged fingers against his knees, frustrated and restless. Normally his friends’ stubbornness is weaponized against other people. He doesn’t like being on this end and he doesn’t understand why it’s happening.

“They want it to be special for you,” Zoro says suddenly, interjecting for the first time all night with that infallible wisdom he likes to pull out of thin air when it suits him. Then he takes another drink and adds, “God knows why.”

There’s nothing Sanji can do for a moment but stare at him. From the corner of his eye, he can see Robin and Jimbei’s knowing smiles, Franky looking as though he’s about to laugh. Carrot is still purring, tickled pink by the whole thing. All around them, Sunny shifts and groans as she bears them across the sea, and somehow it sounds like she’s in on it, too.

Sanji, who can’t remember the last time anyone cooked for him, refuses to feel touched. Honestly. This isn’t touching, it’s goddamn annoying—but he might as well let them have their fun, right?

“French toast,” he finally says. Not very loud, all things considered. But the anarchy in the kitchen comes to a sudden halt, and Luffy’s smile is bright enough to put that sun god lurking inside him to shame.

“With strawberries and cream,” he says importantly. “I remember! Sanji’s favorite!”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Yamato exclaims, still standing at a weird angle and unbothered by it. Next to him, Brook is imitating the pose, for no immediately apparent reason. “Do we have strawberries?”

“Strawberries!” Chopper yells, in what is either accord or a demand, and Usopp opens the fridge to investigate.

Sanji lets his chin sink into one of his hands, overseeing the chaos from his seat at the table. That itchy, uneasy feeling in his chest settles down. Now he just feels reluctantly fond.

He can’t help thinking about what the officer said to him back on the base.

Sanji is a cook, and he does protect his hands, but that’s the extent of what the self-important stranger got correct. Luffy would drag him back from hell if he died, so the idea of being cut free because his usefulness has expired is outright laughable. Sanji doesn’t need to secure his place here.

The reality is much simpler—providing food for the people that he loves is a privilege, one he doesn’t take lightly. It just honestly hadn’t occurred to him until now that the street goes both ways.

Dinner preparation takes twice as long as it should that night.

Somehow, it tastes twice as sweet.

#one piece #opfic #black leg sanji #tony tony chopper #nakamaship #my writing #op #prompt #anonymous #me pushing my french toast agenda #in my heart carrot and yamato joined the crew so thats why theyre both there #its canon to me and thats all that matters thanks for understanding #it isnt quite what u requested anon but i hope u like it anyway #food as a love language aka (one of) my ultimate weakness(es)

133 notes · View notes

ghost-mantis · 1 year

Text

An audiobook I highly recommend and that you need little to no prior knowledge of warhammer lore to enjoy. Hear me out…

Two undying space skeleton liches spend an entire book acting like they had the divorce to end all divorces and are fighting each other to be the first to open an ancient tomb.

One is a mix between Indiana Jones, The Librarian (Movie/TV series), and a Pokemon collector.

The other is the most petty version of Dr. Strange you’ve ever seen.

They spend half the book trying to essentially slap-fight and backstab each other out of spite. They go to court (yes really) over a fight that lasts long enough to erode mountains.

It’s a glorious train wreck of a treasure hunt story, and the audio version does a fantastic job of bringing the characters to life.

10/10 Would Divorce Again

#bookblr #warhammer 40k #trazyn the infinite #orikan the diviner

110 notes · View notes

hcwritter · 1 year

Note

Howdy ! I juste followed you but i did a before on tiktok,sad that you left i've got a request if you Can Do it pleasee ? Its about fell sans nsfw and with aftercare i love your content btw 💗

-SPECIAL REQUEST FROM A FOLLOWER DATING ONE SHOTS-

‼️⚠️NSWF⚠️‼️

( my opinion )

Side note: you didn’t specify if you wanted headcanons so imma do fanfic since it’s nswf and after care ^^ i hope you enjoy

Fell:

It was a nice summer day at snowdin, ironically there’s no snow this summer but nice warm breezes and no snow onsite but green grass. But it would have been a cherry on top if your lover, fell. Wasn’t such a man baby and making a huge fight between y’all over mustered. “Geez relax, can’t you let it go?” You annoyingly sighed after then crossing yours as the taller skeleton stares down at you with his red glowing eyes, “what would you do if someone used YOUR last mustered, huh?!” He yelled childishly “well for starters, I wouldn’t make it a big fucking deal because i can easily just buy a new fucking one!” You yelled back way more harshly than before.

Fell took a step back and clenched his heart and was sadden in expression “i-…ugrr!” He groaned and irritatedly walked away and went upstairs. “Oh yeah! Walk off like a fucking kid huh?” You tried to bring him back but he only stayed in silent. After a few hours it’s dinner time now and Papy told you he will be staying over by alphys for the night, “great..” you sighed stressfully and got to get your coat and your boots on and grabbing the keys “hey bitch face! Im going out to get chicken tenders alright?” You expected a yell or at least a noise but not a peep was heard. ‘This guy..’ as you left.

After you got the food with the drinks you lock the door and went to the dining table expecting him to be there but none, no one was even downstairs and now a thing was moved. “He’s seriously gonna be this petty?” You started to feel the anger boil up as you snapped and went up stairs and started to pound on the door “hey asshole! Wake up! We have to eat dinner, its chicken tenders so you don’t have a reason not to eat!” You yelled but only got nothing, “are you serious?!hey!” You we’re about to bang again but then it opened and your fist stopped on top of fells head starting at you weirdly calm but you notice his eyes were red and puffy “.. what the hell happened to you” you lower down your fist and stared up at him as he was only silent and then tried to close his door again but you stopped it with your hand and forcefully opened it wide and let yourself in “hey! Im not done talking to you asshole! What is wrong with you?!” You started to lecture him but he only looked down at his feet and took it in silent “hey! Im talking to you look at me!” You aggressively yelled as he finally looked but then came along him aggressively holding your shoulders and pulling you closer to his face seeing his mid grinned expression “listen here dip shit, your lil mouth of yours have been getting filthy lately. Why don’t we shut it up? Aye?” He suggested with a grin as you tried to get loose but he was now lifting you up and taking you to his shoulders and slamming you down to his bed and pinning you.

“F-fell! Get off me this instant!” You tried to push but got your both of your hands tried with his hand as he was now hovering above you “ relax doll face, i won’t be gentle ” you grunted “you little shit!” As you hissed at him and glared “let go!” “oh? Why would i? You were the one barging in my room” you blushed knowing somehow this would happen but never expected your predictions would ever come true but now your facing it right now “i was trying to help you eat dumbass! Not this! Pevr!” You spit as he only giggled and lowered himself “oh really? Then why ya nipples hard then doll face?” He pointed out as it was true,you were turned on. Your nipples we’re sensitive and he knew damn well, “lets me just~” he let go one of his hand on your wrist and pinned you with one hand one and one now teasing your nipple and playing with it with his middle finger. You groaned and moan at the sensation “f-fell! Stop! Pl-eaah!~” the sudden hot air and tongue that was placed on top of your breast was enough to skip through foreplay, “wow~ seems like this is the trick to turn you one faster huh dollface? Heh, what a slut.” He grinned as he his muffled word’s insulting you was just the cherry on top of what you want to add right now. “Fell please..I’m sensitive there..” “oh yeah? Thanks for letting me know doll face” “h-huh?!-AGH!!~” he took that information and got into sucking with the other side and and kept on switching on each nipple and leaving bite marks on’em, “ya like that doll face? Yeah?” He tease as he bites it hard in front you as you look down at him with embarrassment as he starts to lick and kiss the bite mark tendering it and repeatedly doing the same thing all over again.

“Fell! Please stop! It’s too much! Im..im..im leaking..” you tear up as your legs were shaking, fell grinned and happily let go of your wrist as it lazily traced to comfort tour breast from the abused “ahh..~” you tried to touch your own chest but it’s so sensitive you can barely touch it without twitching, “leaking huh? Let me see,spread.” He demands but you huff and did the opposite and tried closed your legs but before you could even close them properly he has it hold on your knees and knew you were about to pull some shit like that and was prepared. “Ah-ah-ah dollface, listen to daddy” he groans, the word ‘daddy’ to phrase himself got you to unconsciously spread your legs for him “good girl” he went to slide off the bed and drag your hips with him your legs hanging off his bed as he is on his knees and pulling your legs on his shoulders “this is such a beautiful view” he complimented as he was adoring your cunt as you only stayed embarrassed and hide your face with your arms “hiding your pretty face now?” He giggles as he leans towards your cunt and then started off with a big lick that made you moan loud “ah~ you like that aye? Ill give ya some more” as did,he was eating you out like it was the tastiest thing in the world. The soft licks and sudden flicks made it so exciting and fun, even the grips on your thighs was enough for you to arch and buckle up your hips making him have a face full of wet pussy.

“Mhmm~i love it when you thrust your cunt onto my face” he said as he licks of the wet spot on his cheeks as he counties to devour you while making eye contact. Seeing your body twitch and whine and arch was making his own cock hard as hell, he then pushed his tongue inside you all of the sudden making you squeal and squish him between your thighs and wrapping your legs around him pushing his face further inside you as you moaned once again “yu kow i luv diez” “what was that?” His words were muffled and couldn’t be heard and so instead of letting go and saying what he wants to say he instead pushed further and starts to wiggles inside you. “Agh! Fell!~” the sensation was so godly good you could feel tears on your eyes as you feel like stop and let go and pull away, “phew.. dayum girl, you got me drowning in this pussy” he compliments as his fave was covered with all of your cum as you flusteredly giggle, “geez thanks?” You replied as he chuckle himself as he went to fix your position and put your legs back in bed and got flipped you guys over. “Huh?!” “Heheh..come on doll,ride me” you playfully tapped both of your ass as he enjoyed it giggle with his hand “but..” “hm?” “I don’t know how to..” you shly said as you hunched over due to embarrassment “hey hey, it’s okay my love. Ill help you.” He wholesomely smiled as he lifted you up as you hold on to his hands as he lowered you to his cock, “FUCK! T-TOO BIG!” You cried out as tears were falling from your face as you held his hands for support. His cock was so big you could see the seeable budge on your tummy, “fell..” you cried out his name as he wipes your tears away “come on my love, you can do this” he encouraged as you then took that encouragement and waited for yourself to adjust as, after a few minutes the pain went from a an agony to an addiction.

“Fell.. please hold me” you offered as he did so, holding hands as he watches you bounce on him slowly, god it felt good. The slow downs were enough to throw his head back and eyes rolling, “god..keep it coming my love” you nodded as you start to go a long faster and slamming down his pelvis hard each time, taking it all out then taking it all in, the repeated sensation was just god like god for the both of you. “Oh god my love..” “fell..” you both became a moaning mess as it only got worse as you started to go faster and faster, his cock leaking a good amount of his thick cum on the side of your cunt as it sticks on your ass and created this spiderweb strings every time you lift your ass up and slam it back down creating a lewd sticky noise. “Oh god darling im gonna fucking cum-“ “me-me too!” You both got tense and got faster as his grip went from your hands to your ass and your hands on his chest as both if you went into a devilish and lustful sensation as both of you came on each other and in each other,

the heavy puffs before you fell into on top of him on his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he his on your body and held you close. “You dis amazing my love, so great” he kisses your forehead as you giggled at the warm kiss as you lifted your head and kisses him on kiss cheeks as both you laid there for a few moments . “So are we alright now?” She asked with a mischievous grin “hmp! Maybe I could consider this as a possibility” he childishly hmps as both you only laughed at the dumb fight and kissed once again and went to shower together and got into y’all’s pjs and went down stairs to eat the chicken tenders while watching Disney.

“I love you so much” you look at him with a genuine smile as you lean into his arm, he giggles and wrapped one arm on you and leaned his head on you “i love you too darling” as both of you enjoyed the rest of the night and slowly and cozily fell asleep together in the coach under the warm fuzzy blanket as both of you cuddling into slumber.

62 notes · View notes

drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 2 years

Text

Return of the Goldfish Problem

Summary: Two people trying to look after one in secret. Problem is that no one communicates and knows the other exists.

Warning: None.

Word Count: 1046

—--

The tank was empty.

Marc was pretty sure that had not been the case before they had left for the alps. Did goldfish jump? How could a goldfish that was missing a fin jump out of a tank?

He stared down at the floor around the stand, his tired eyes struggling to focus. Nothing about the alps had gone right. Falling out of a window was not supposed to have woken Steven up. He could still remember struggling to get control back as he’d watched Steven flail around trying to avoid getting shot.

He was missing time. In and out, he’d felt like he was swimming as he tried to put Steven back to sleep and take over. Each time he managed to get a foothold, the waves would come up and drag him back down again. He’d had a heart stopping moment when he’d woken up at one point to find himself driving some sort of cupcake truck while fighting off someone.

“Fuuuuuck.” Marc looked back in the tank. Maybe the damn thing was hiding somehow. In the boat maybe? Behind the pyramid? Perhaps in the plants?

He rolled up a sleeve and shoved his arm in the tank, moving things around gently as he struggled to flush out any hiding fish. Maybe a little fish skeleton would surface like in the movies, fully intact and cartoonish.

When nothing came from his splashing about, he pulled his arm out and stared at the tank some more. Maybe a bird or cat had gotten in.

He turned to look at the window. It was cracked open a little. Did pigeons eat goldfish? Perhaps Khonshu had eaten it as some sort of petty revenge for nearly mucking up the golden scarab thing.

Steven was going to be upset. Goldfish didn’t just disappear.

He put his face in his hands and took a slow breath. “Okay. Okay okay okay. Hnnnnngh.” He grabbed his wallet and keys and trudged back out into the streets.

–

The tank was occupied.

Jake stared at the tank that was supposed to have been empty.

When Khonshu had explained the mission, Jake had understood that this was going to be more than just a day or two. It had the potential to be far longer. Sure, he could have paid someone to come to the flat and take care of the fish, but then they would have seen the way Steven lived. Questions would be asked.

He had packed up the little one-finded wonder and taken it to a friend’s house for safekeeping. Once they got home and Marc had taken his time to settle, Jake had gotten up to take care of the things Marc wouldn’t think of.

He looked at the container in his hands. Yup. This was Gus. One fin and swimming sideways. So who the hell was that? He leaned in and stared into the tank closely.

Did Steven get a new fish already? Did Marc? Steven was sure to notice that one of the fish had seemingly grown their fin back.

“Hijo de puta.” He sighed and pulled out his phone to call up the friend again. He could feel Steven starting to stir and he didn’t have time to try and figure this out right now. They would just have to watch the fish a little longer. He really hoped Steven didn’t notice the extra fin until he could switch them out properly.

“Hey, it’s me again… Still in the area?” He sighed and grabbed his keys as he headed back out with Gus.

–

Jake muttered as he put both fish into the tank. He had managed to call up his friend when he had woken up in Egypt. He had stupidly believed that he could somehow figure it all out as if it all relied on the fish.

In the end, didn’t it? Steven would have believed it was all a dream if he hadn’t seen the stupid fish.

So what was his plan now? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. He was upset. Between the Alps fiasco and then Cairo and Harrow, Jake was in a terrible mood.

He watched the fish both swim around and for the most part ignore one another.

“You stupid fish. You don’t even care do you! Moved around, switched in and out, taken from your own and put back and you don’t even notice! You don’t even notice this other guy! I could put ten in there and you wouldn’t notice or care! Too preoccupied with yourselves!” He tapped the tank then sat back and sighed in frustration.

He hoped they noticed. He hoped Steven asked about it and Marc had to try to come up with some reason that let him live in denial. “What am I going to do now?”

Marc and Steven were talking now. How was he supposed to handle that? Did he pop up and introduce himself? “What do you think, little fish? Do I give them time to figure things out or do I rush in and hope they welcome me too?”

The fish floated to the top, looking for a meal. They bumped into one another a couple of times then floated away. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”

Jake sighed and glanced around the flat. The body was tired and he was tired. He had a lot to do but he would do it later. For now he would let Marc and Steven figure things out for themselves. But right now, he would sleep.

–

Steven stared at the fish tank.

Two fish. That was nice. Marc must have done it for them, though he wasn’t sure when Marc went out and did it since they got back from Cairo. He was happy to have fish again, though he was sad thinking about how the others must have died while they were away.

“....Hey Marc?” Steven leaned in and stared at the fish closer. “Marc!”

“Steven, what?” Marc was still tired, but he was coming around.

“Maybe I’m thinking too much into this…”

“Usually. What is it?” Marc yawned and groggily started to take status of the situation around them.

“That fish has one fin.” He pointed, thunking his finger into the side of the tank.

“It does?” Marc frowned.

“....IS THAT GUS?!”

#Moon Knight fic #Steven Grant #Marc Spector #Jake Lockley #MKtober2022 #MoonKnightober2022 #It starts #Happy October you guys!#Jake is trying #He is trying so hard #Poor Jake #Is the friend Frenchie or Crawley #I'll let you decide #Fish baby sitter #Gus the fish

129 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 7 months

Note

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/733604643667623936/some-ya-novels-have-some-really-great-ideas-for#notes

There are a lot of fantastic YAs out there, BUT the problem comes when the ones like Shanice La Boomboom get promoted because they're made for broader masses and easier to market.

Afterall, why read and promote a story with a lot of intrigue and effort put into all the nuances of its world? It's much easier to market a cookie cutter Shanice La Boomboom story that is more "comfortable" and familiar. It's all the same just with a different coat of paint. Publishers prefer to sell and promote stories they know will sell, that's why they always follow the big trendsetters, and leave everything else on the backburner.

Editing is also much much easier and faster for stories where the world building gets completely ignored in favour or relationship drama and other petty fights between friends and lover's quarrels especially if you basically just copy paste them. You don't need to make sure the lore is cohesive or that the more complicated parts fit together if you can just leave the skeleton hidden behind the loveless love drama.

Also, let's be real, it's probably much easier to take a Shanice La Boomboom story and make a movie out of it, probably cheaper as well and focus on a small set, than a story where you'd have to adapt a ton of lore, with big set pieces, and have to pay mind to a broader story and actual world building.

15 notes · View notes

stoicbreviary · 1 year

Photo

James Ensor, Skeletons Fighting Over a Hanged Man (1891)

Critics debate whether this painting represents Ensor's mistresses arguing over him, or the battle between art critics about the merits of his work.

It could be both of these, but I ultimately see the pettiness and futility of all human conflict.

3 notes · View notes

conkniving · 1 year

Note

❄️ :)

years ago, on the brink of adulthood —

those nights felt limitless. especially in the winter. despite the cold, which would surely worsen in the height of the season and bite up their dark excursions, two figures did not feel it between the black mitts on hands that were no less nimble and the rye vodka heating beneath the skin. even before half the transparent bottle had been drained, they felt the high that came with petty burglary; nicking the alcohol within the leather lapels of a coat for the price of a pack of gum as one played decoy. now, they wandered aimlessly, rosy cheeked and laughter pealing down empty streets, a little less caring of the judgments that increased by the day of the two solidifying into their ‘trouble-maker’ roles.

a playground sat like a skeleton embedded partially into a wintry grave, becoming momentary host to fallon as she ambled into the mounds of snow ploughed from roads and sidewalks. a question filtered through the chilly air on what they should do next when a impact of sparse force met between her shoulder blades, serving little more than a second’s puzzlement before the thai turned with a grin. stella was a couple yards back and poised with a matching grin of her own, gearing up another snowball in her palms.

“you bitch,” fallon jeered fondly. the vodka plopped into the bank ( and would be a fun game to find later ) as she dropped toward the snow in a hurry to arm herself. it was only loosely solidified when another hit contacted her shoulder, bits of snow kissing coldly on her cheek. leaning into her front foot, she tried her hardest to deliver a mean swing but her counterpart was too agile, dodging with breadth to spare. scooping up for another, fallon attempted to juke from her vantage point, successfully skipping out of the way with a sharp “ha!”

the snowball fight was relatively brief. hits landed on each of them, snarking back and forth, as the distance shortened between them in the throes of harsher deliveries. the ball in fallon’s hands was barely a shape when a final blow nailed her dead centre in the face, the only damage meeting as a flash of cold across the features before quickly melting away. through the flakes on her lashes, she lunged forward with a war cry, arms finding purchase around the lean frame of her best friend, shoulder driving into the abdomen ( purposefully without hurt, at least no more than they were accustomed to sharing ). together in a tackle, they tumbled into the airy crunch of fresh snow, stella’s hands already seeking retribution along fallon’s back so that she could throw her off. and before she could, fallon sat back on her knees above, taking a handful of white and smearing it into the laughing face below yelling, “fffallo-ngh!”

a knee sank into her thigh, shoving fallon off to the side so that stella could sit upward and wipe the slush away.

“truce?”

“truce. let’s see if we can find the vodka.”

#( inbox. )#( ft. stella )#alcohol tw #had to do a flashback of somewhat simpler times :')

3 notes · View notes

lalalovezfrenchfriez · 11 months

Text

I guess because I have no fear people will steal this (and if they do it’s a home brew…like…whatever) and I know my players will probably not even go for these missions and ruin it I am here to share a few npc quests and lore they will encounter before their fight with the BBEG

Vampires are a small clan in the mountains in the West that protect Orcs, Trolls and Goblins (OTGs) that have been prosecuted by more “humanoid” races. These vampires are resurrected beings and have been treated fairly humanly by the OTGs despite their bat like features. As a token of appreciation they protect the OTGs with only an ask for a large mansion for them to sleep in, and a daily dose of fruit that they devour (only the most drugged out vampires drink blood, it’s mostly wizards turned vampires) OTGs often let wanderers and explorers find the vampires and do not warn them, leaving a trail of skeletons to the vampires’ lair…

There is an expansive and HOT desert in the middle of the map for only about 5 miles, where the players will find large, tall….DINOSAURS?! Unfortunately the Fae, keepers of balance by the Deity’s word in the world, are there to exterminate the dinosaurs. Under The Deity’s eyes, the dinosaurs are not necessary in the world anymore, and must be killed with a natural disaster

A Fae in it’s homeland (a small area in the north east) that houses a Celestial Angel in its quarters, only for the players to find out the Fae and Angel are in love and are planning to run away from their duties to The Deity (heresy!) they know no matter what, they are willing to fight for their love…even if they are killed

There are Three Human kingdoms in the middle of the East and West, going down in order: The Wallowed, The Wondered and The Wild.

The Wallowed is a kingdom without a king, for once every winter solstice, do they welcome their King back: The Bone King! A joyous holiday is celebrated as the King’s bones are brought back by a mysterious magic and he rules his kingdom in its darkest times with a fit of pure childish joy! (He’s heavily based off of Jack the Skeleton King BUT COME ON ITS SO CUTE CHECK OUT THE WALTZ OF THE BONE KING BY PETER GUNDRY)

The Wondered is the Middle Kingdom, a trade path between the West to East and home to those who need shelter from Wars. The prince who rules this kingdom longs for his princess, and rumors speculate it may be the *gasp* fairy princess!?

The Wild, the lowest kingdom near the outskirts jungles of the south, with the Dinosaur Desert above them to separate from the Wondered, is ruled by an old yet generous Queen, who was once rumored to be a nymph for her connections to the Ani-folk (part animal part human, aka centaurs, Catfolk, Bugfolk, u get it) for her kindness to them to settle out wars, and her peace with them. While many of the human kingdoms have their fair share of distrust with Anifolk, the Wild Kingdom never strays or closes its arms to the smile of an Anifolk.

Separated by grudges and pettiness, the Wizard and Witch clans are on opposite sides of the world (Wizards West, Witches East) and whatever one the players meet upon, they meet a pair of twins (Kori, witch and Cory, wizard ) who are magical and were separated by the distrust of both. They need to pass messages upon to each other to meet at the Wondered kingdom for their freedom and reunion, and if is only up to the players to help.

The players encounter a troll, Jayne who invites them to the underground cities that the OTGs hide out in from their oppressors, only to realize they are not welcome because the OTGs never let outsiders inside their cities! Can the players come up with a good excuse to stay inside, and ease their distrust?

And finally, two silly ideas to play around with as the player’s journey comes to a close:

A Tentacle Seafolk (sea creature human mix) who wants the head of a Dragonborn (dragon human mix) for biting off her lover’s head, Krilliam. I find the name Krilliam hilarious. And the Tentacle Seafolk blubbering over the loss of Krilliam amusing. Idk I’m God.

A Catfolk who is willing to help the players to the island to meet the BBEG as she wants to be a seafarer however she is TERRIFIED of water, however if the players can convince her they can pay her in fish and that she can definitely steer a boat, she will agree. funny cat sailor.

THAT IS ALL I HAVE TO SHARE TODAY!

this was super fun as I can’t rly spam my friends with this, but I know for a great fact my bf and my two best friends will appreciate this, even if this is their first time playing! I’ll probably go into their quest later if anyone is rly interested, but I’m glad I have a space to freely share this :,) love u guys!

#writing #creative writing #writblr #writeblr #dnd5e #dnd dm #dnd shenanigans #dnd beginner #dnd homebrew #dnd blogging #dnd #dungeons and dragons #dnd worldbuilding #<3 #beep boop #:)

0 notes

moonchild-things · 1 year

Text

Chapter Three: A Chance

Summary: Delphia Odinsdottir is the Goddess of Virtue. While stopping petty fights between her brothers, sparing with her friends, and practicing with her mother, Delphia has visions of the future. However, her once boring, uneventful life as Princess is disrupted by one of the most disturbing visions she had ever seen. Which leads her to run into a patriotic captain in red, white and blue.

Word Count: 3401

Blog Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

Tønsberg, Norway

1942

LOUD GUNSHOTS COULD BE HEARD IN THE small town of Tønsberg, Norway. The townspeople did their best to stay hidden as troops brandishing many different weapons marched across the cobblestone roads. A single logo plastered on nearly every side of their large machinery. It was distinctly the logo of Hydra.

A young man ran across a courtyard towards a church with speeds that could rival an Olympic runner. A gun was slung over his back and swayed with each swift step he made. The rumble of the oncoming vehicles of Hydra’s soldiers shook the ground as the man bursts through the wooden door of the church.

When the door opened the young man was greeted with the solemn, wrinkled face of the tower keeper. The younger man, Jan, caught his breath in deep pants and spoke breathlessly in his native tongue, “they have come for it!”

The ancient tower keeper’s withered expression stayed the same as he came down the stone stairs, “they have before.”

Jan shook his head and gulped loudly, “not like this.”

The older man’s expression didn’t falter as he held a determination in his ancient eyes. “Let them come. They will never find it.”

Just as he said that a loud rumble approached the building and started to shake the ground. The candle holds around them and chandelier about swayed from side to side and threatened to fall over. Before they could react the stone wall burst open and was broken into many pieces. Dust fogged up the room once the robust wall came crashing down and littered the floor in chunks of stone. The old man leaned down and lifted a piece of stone to find the young man dead underneath it.

A large tank made room for a group of soldiers to march into the room and instantly made their way to the stone tomb that sat in the middle of the room. They hastily started to work together to push the lid off of the stone as their superior shouted at them.

“Open it!” The Lieutenant order the group of men who did their best to try and pry open the stone grave as fast as they could. “Quickly, before he…” His commands died on his tongue as the man himself, their leader, climbed over the rubble towards them. The menacing man waltzed his way over to them across the pile of stone. The man wore all black which made it quite difficult to pinpoint him in the pitch black of night. Black gloves adorned his hands as he wore a black trench coat that had the familiar pin of Hydra on his lapel. His narrow, long face was set hard in a glare as he looked down at the old man who laid on the ground.

“It has taken me a long time to find this place,” Johann observed the church that was now covered in rubble and dust. The soldiers around him seemed to shake in their boots at his presence and it was obvious that Johann is a very intimidating man. “You should be commended. Help him up.” The soldiers pulled the older man onto his feet. “I think that you are a man of great vision. And in this way, we are much alike.”

“I am nothing like you,” the older man denied harshly.

Johann nodded his head, “No, of course. But what others see as superstition, you and I know to be a science.”

“What you seek is just a legend.”

Johann countered him quickly, “then why make such an effort to conceal it?” He took off his hat and walked over to the grave that the soldiers were having a tough time opening. With little to no effort, Johann pushed the cover off like it weighed nothing. He revealed a skeleton covered in cobwebs and maggots that clutched a light blue cube in its boney hands. He pulled the cube out of the dead man’s grasp and examined it carefully, “the Tesseract was the jewel of Odin’s treasure room.” He turned to the old man and dropped the cube that broke into pieces once it hit the ground. “It’s not something one buries. But I think it is close, yes?”

“I cannot help you,” The tower keeper denied.

“No. But maybe you can help your village.” Johann started to threaten, “you must have some friends out there. Some… some little grandchildren perhaps. I have no need for them to die.” The mechanical sound of the tank outside turning its cannons towards the village filled with innocent lives caused the older man’s heart to race. Johann was willing to kill this village over something a simple as a cube. Over something that he had been on the search for a very long time. The old man stood his ground and said nothing. Johann was indifferent to whether or not the old man would help him or not in order to save his village. Johann would get what he wanted, no matter how many people died. The Hydra leader noticed a carving in one of the church's walls, “Yggdrasil. Tree of the world. Guardian of wisdom and fate, also.” He approached it and surveyed it with a keen eye. He then noticed the eye of a snake seemed to resemble that of a button. He pressed it and a small compartment opened up. The tower keeper’s heart sank as he knew the sick man had gotten what he wanted. Johan opened up the box and allowed the bright blue glow from his prize to paint his face. “And the Führer digs for trinkets in the desert.” He looked up at the distressed man, “you have never seen this, have you?”

The tower Keeper shook his head, “It’s not for the eyes of ordinary men.”

Johann’s lips turned up in a smirk slightly, “exactly.” He closed the box and didn't hesitate in his next order, “give the order to open fire.”

“Jawohl!” The Lieutenant did as she and guided the soldiers out.

Just as the Hydra soldiers were leaving the old man shook slightly in fear and exasperation. “Fool!” The older man shouted, “you cannot control the power you hold. You will burn!”

“I already have.” Johann then shot the man which effectively killed him and splattered his Hydra pin with dark blood.

---

The fair was bustling and bright as many people ran around from exhibit to exhibit. Of course, everyone crowded around Howard Stark himself to see what he had to show. And although it was a place for people to have fun and forget about the stress of life, there was also a recruitment building. Despite the fact that people may have wanted to focus on the good aspects of life, there was still a war raging on across the ocean. They needed to get men to join the army from anywhere.

One man who desperately wanted to join the army stood up to the picture of a soldier and found that he was too short for his face to appear in it. Steve Rogers, the man who seemed too frail and short to be in the army, sighed. His slight sadness was interrupted when his best friend, James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes, came up from behind him. The tall soldier had a head of black hair on his head that was covered by his army uniform hat. His chiseled, handsome face was painted in exasperation that was directed towards his pale friend. “Come on. You’re kind of missing the point of a double date. We’re taking the girls dancing.” Bucky tried to sway him though already knew that Steve would say no. That man could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes.

He had invited Steve to come along on a double date with him, Connie and her friend. Obviously, Steve wasn't exactly enjoying himself because his blonde date was not interested in him at all. Bucky figured that this would happen, but he just wanted to have his last night before he was sent out to the army to be fun. What better way to do that than with a couple of dames and his best friend. It hadn't gone that way.

Steve shook his head, “you go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”

Bucky stared at his long-time friend in slight irritation and turned to him with a serious tone to his voice. “you’re really gonna do this again?”

Steve shrugged his shoulder, “well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.”

“As who?” Bucky scoffed, “Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch you. Or worse, they’ll actually take you.”

Steve shook his head, “look, I know you don’t think I can do this.”

“This isn’t a back alley, Steve. It’s war!” Of course, Bucky was referring to earlier that day when Steve had ended up in an alleyway with some moronic bully beating him up. Sometimes, Bucky honestly thinks that Steve likes being punched.

“I know it’s a war.” Steve said, “you don’t have to tell me.”

“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.”

As the men argued, the brunette woman who had followed them inside watched them with calculating, wide hazel eyes. Her light pink lips were pulled up in a small smile as she observed the men. More specifically, she watched the short blond who seemed to be passionate about joining the army.

Steve was completely annoyed with Bucky, “what am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal…”

“Yes!” Bucky exclaimed.

“…in my little red wagon.”

Bucky shook his head, “Why not?” He didn’t want his friend to be a soldier in this war. If that wasn’t obvious already. He understood that Steve wasn’t someone to take something without a fight and would stand up for anything, even if he had so many medical problems. He couldn’t deny that he admired that about Steve, however, Bucky just had a feeling that his spirit was going to get him killed one day.

Steve continued, “I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky.”

“I don’t…”

“Bucky, come on!” Bucky was quiet for a moment as he allowed Steve to continue on passionately, “there are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”

Bucky couldn’t help himself but scoff, “right. Cause you got nothing to prove.”

“Hey, Sarge!” Connie, one of the girls that Bucky had invited for a double-date with him and Steve, shouted as they waited outside the recruitment building. “Are we going dancing?”

Bucky nodded his head and smiled widely at them with his pearly white teeth, “Yes, we are.” He turned back to Steve and knew that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. He sighed in resignation and started to back away from his friend, “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Steve laughed now that he knew Bucky wasn’t going to try to stop him anymore. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Bucky walked back over to him as the brother-like friends embraced in a tight, quick hug. “You’re a punk.”

“Jerk. Be careful.” Steve watched his friend go, “don’t win the war till I get there!”

Bucky shakes his head and saluted to Steve before walking away and flashing the girls that they had brought with them a charming smile, “come on girls. They’re playing our song.” Steve watched as the suave soldier waltzed up to the two lovely girls to give them a good time. He knew that his absence wouldn’t really hinder their fun.

“You are very brave.”

Steve jumped, startled, and spun around to face the speaker with such a honey lathered voice behind him. He came face to face with a woman. She was a tad bit taller than him which was obviously no surprise. Just about everyone was taller than him, even kids. Her shiny brunette hair rested on her shoulders freely and, to him, there appeared to be a glowing, golden halo encasing her entire body. The man was overwhelmed by her appearance. “E-excuse me?”

“I am sorry,” the woman apologized as she stepped closer to the shorter man. “I did not mean to intrude on your conversation… I know it was rude of me to do so. “

It took Steve a moment to comprehend that the woman was talking directly to him. He gulped, “it’s alright, ma’am.”

She smiled slightly and brushed some of her chestnut hair behind her ear. “It is just… I find what you said quite admirable.”

Steve nodded his head in disbelief, “thank you…”

“Delphia,” her angelic voice told him, “my name is Delphia” She introduced herself with a small, charming smile that nearly had Steve melting into a puddle on the ground. “And there is no need to thank me for your actions…”

Steve began to stutter as he became flustered. It wasn’t every day that a beautiful dame such as the one standing in front of him wanted to know his name. “Rogers, Steve. I mean, Steve Rogers.” He took a gulp of air as he calmed himself down enough to understand what he was trying to say and not embarrass himself further. “My name is Steve Rogers.”

The beautiful brunette woman standing in front of him giggled. To him, her soft laughter sounded like the tinkling of a small bell which was pleasant to hear. She flashed him another one of her wide, white-toothed smiles. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Steve Rogers.”

Steve continued to stare at the alluring woman a moment longer as he tried to collect himself. He completely forgot how to respond. What were words? Oh, right. “S-same to you, Delphia.”

Delphia nodded her head respectfully and spun on her heels to head over to the man waiting for her slightly further into the building. Steve watched her go with lingering eyes as the golden shine followed her as well. God, he had never seen someone as beautiful as her. He was finally able to pull himself from his thoughts slightly before stumbling into the building to enlist himself for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

In the shadows, Dr. Abraham Erskine and Delphia watched with calculating stares as the skinny man walks into the building to enlist. It was surprising to see a man of his stature so willing to fight in the war. Though that may be why he had grabbed their attention.

“Do you think he’s the right man?” Abraham asked Delphia and turned to her. She had yet to tear her eyes from the retreating figure of the stubborn man who refused to sit around and not fight for his country.

“He has such an aura of respect and humility…” She said absentmindedly before noticing that she was still looking after him. She cleared her throat slightly and looked at the old man with a small smile, “it would be stupid of us to not consider him for the experiment.”

The old man nodded his head as he offered his arm to the brunette. “Well, I suppose it's time we test our possible subject.” Delphia took his arm and the two walked into the enlistment building together to give Steve Rogers the chance to change the war.

---

Steve sat on an examination table as a military doctor looked over some paperwork. Steve’s nerves were high at the moment. This was the sixth time he had tried to enlist and he had a feeling that his lies were going to catch up to him. Though since he hadn't been caught yet, things would be no different this time Just as he thought that things would go according to plan, a nurse walked through and whispered something to the doctor.

The Doctor turned to him, “Wait here.”

“Is there a problem?” Steve asked apprehensively.

“Just wait here.” The doctor then exited the small space and closed the curtain.

Growing anxious at the prospect of getting caught for lying on his application, Steve hopped down and started to pull his shoes back on. Steve was willing to do just about anything to get into the army. However, if he was caught lying he would be imprisoned. If that were to happen there was no way that Steve would ever get to serve his country. As his worry started to increase, a soldier walked through the curtain. The large soldier stood rigid and menacing which caused the smaller man's heart to scream in panic.

Suddenly a man then walked into the small space. He had round glasses, grey hair and was dressed in a brown suit. And to Steve's surprise, the woman that he had spoken to earlier followed after the older man. “Thank you." The man waved off the soldier as Delphia smiled at Steve brightly. "So, you want to go overseas. Kill some Nazis.”

Steve was completely confused. Had he been found out? “Excuse me?”

“Dr. Abraham Erskine.” The older man introduced himself and then gestured to the beautiful woman standing next to him, it was the same woman who Steve had talked to outside. “And my assistant, Delphia. I believe you two already met.” She flashed him another one of her heart-melting smiles. “We represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”

“Steve Rogers." He shook Abraham's offered hand and smiled bashfully at Delphia. Though he couldn't help but notice something about the both of them. Their accents. Abraham's was no doubt German which did not cause any alarm for Steve. If Abraham was a threat then he certainly wouldn't be anywhere near this place. Delphia was also not American. Steve was too enraptured by her beauty early to really comment on it, but he did notice that she sounded British. Well, the British are allied with American and fighting in the war against the Nazis so it shouldn't hard to understand why she was here. "Where are you from?”

“Queens." Abraham instantly replied as he looked over the files about Steve, "the both of us. 73rd Street and Utopia Parkway. Before that, Germany." He gazed up at Steve over his circular glasses. "This troubles you?”

“No.”

Abraham nodded his head and continued to look at the file. “Where are you from, Mr. Rogers? Mmm? Is it New Haven? Or Paramus? Five exams in five different cities.”

Steve started to panic slightly as he realized that it is about his lies in his applications. “That might not be the right file.”

“No, it’s not the exams we're interested in," Delphia said softly with her eyes shining in understanding. "It’s the five tries."

"You didn’t answer my question." Abraham continued for her, "Do you want to kill Nazis?”

The frail man tilted his head in confusion, “Is this a test?”

“Yes.”

Steve took a deep breath while he tried to come up with the right words. “I don’t wanna kill anyone. I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from.”

Abraham and Delphia shared a glance and seemed to have a silent conversation before the older man turned to Steve. “Well, there are already so many big men fighting this war. Maybe what we need now is the little guy, huh? I can offer you a chance." The trio then exited the small room, "Only a chance.”

“I’ll take it.” Relief washed over Steve now that he knew he wasn't going to be punished for his lying and instead actually be enlisted.

The grey-haired doctor smiled at the younger man's enthusiasm, "Good. So where is the little guy from, actually?”

“Brooklyn.”

Abraham then handed Steve his file with a large smile and optimism in his eyes. “Congratulations, soldier.”

The frail man opened his file and stared at the 1A stamp on his application. He couldn't deny the fact that he was giddy now that he was officially apart of the US army. Of course, there was also that slight fear of going into combat, but it was something that Steve could deal with.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the angelic voice he was starting to love. “Good-bye, Steve,” the brunette woman said with a wide smile as she followed after the doctor. Steve was left behind with butterflies in his stomach, from the fact that he had finally been accepted and the sweet smile the angel had flashed him. Things were certainly starting to look up for Steve Rogers.

0 notes

bramblestar334 · 1 year

Text

Heartless lore copy pasted from me rambling in a discord server im in (even if you already know Heartless lore, I’ve updated some of it lmao, if you already know Heartless lore then you can skip the first giant block of text)

So. Heartless. Basically, their situation was pretty normal (aka, same as me in real life for the most part) for a while. The only main differences between their world and the one we know are non human creatures exist and they live in harmony (mostly) with humans, and superheroes (and villains) are pretty normalized. They lived as Bramblestar, a fairly normal kid, for a while, except their dad really doesn't like their partner because their partner is a cheetah creature and their dad doesnt like nonhumans much. Eventually, they get so fed up with their crappy family that their anger "unlocks" their shapeshifting powers (They inherited those from their mom but didnt realize). They used those to... burn the house down. With their family inside. Yep. Unfortunately, Nara (their partner) didn't realize that they were the one who burned their house down because they fled the scene, so he assumed that they also died and it was a villain who murdered Bramblestar. So Nara decided to go down her own path for power. Her father was the mayor or something of their town, and he was recently killed as well, but he had a library of books containing powerful secrets. He used one of these books to perform a spell that transformed her, changing his fur color, giving her the ability to stick to walls, and making a holographic crown appear above his head. She ran away from home to track down the villain who killed his partner in an act of revenge and misunderstanding. Because of Bramblestar's shapeshifting powers turning them from a human into a cat, and Nara's transformation and appearance change too, they didn't recognize each other. They had also each taken on different names. Bramblestar started going by Heartless, and Nara named himself Suction for his powers. They both have their own groups (other ocs made by other friends of mine) and they're the classic "Hero x Villain who are rivals but also gay for each other" trope.

So Heartless and Suction, unknown to both of them, each have something possessing them and these ancient gods have decided to use them both as pawns in their own petty rivalry. Suction's takes control when his crown is eventually broken, her eyes going pure red is a pretty good sign of "oh shit, he's evil(?) now". I haven't decided on a name, but the one possessing him is a red lion with a few features that resemble a biblically accurate angel (rings with wings in front of her face and her single eye within those rings). Heartless's is a bit more... "emo" /hj. He's a skeleton cat known as Voidsteppe with purple, firey ears and eyes, and he's somewhat eccentric. Heartless has purple and green eyes normally, but when they turn all purple, that's Voidsteppe's influence. They also have a habit of shapeshifting into a dragon when they want to be something a little bit more powerful, but their dragon form is different when they're in control than when Voidsteppe is.

at some point Heartless and Suction in their canon universe have a conflict and end up realizing that "oh hey, this guy was my partner when I was 'normal'" (and "my partner isnt dead?" in Suction's case) and theyre on better terms for the most part, but theyre still rivals. However now its less of "we're rivals because you killed someone i love and i hate you" and more "we're rivals because of slightly conflicting morals and its kinda funny tbh" (Heartless would never kill an innocent person but believes in fighting against "good" when they have to, while Suction is always on the side of "good"). They're still gay as fuck and kinda sorta dating again behind their teams backs (Except they flirt in battle and everybody knows lmao) And then even later in the future the nameless lion god and Voidsteppe use the two to fight in some epic battle where the sky turns red and purple or something I haven't planned out much of that but i just think its cool

Anyways, Deltarune au time. Heartless is assigned to be Jevil (Jeartless) and Suction is assigned to be Seam (Seamction). The deltarune au exists in a slightly separate universe to the main villainsona one, but Voidsteppe and the other nameless lion goddess still have influence. Especially for Jeartless, Voidsteppe sort of takes Gaster's place as the "weird skeleton driving the secret boss mad" /hj. Jeartless is, so far, the only Bramble (aka self insert) to be aware of the creator (me irl) and the other Brambles (the others who have met multiversally consider the meetings "weird dreams" but Jeartless knows the truth)

#bramblings :)#heartless #villainsonas: just villains mucking about!#voidsteppe is really cool i just havent drawn him yet

0 notes

sevengraces · 2 years

Text

The Heroes Journey (To Find A Home)

ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, You, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, Title Card

AO3 Link

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

Chat is doing their best, definitely, but who wouldn't be a tad belligerent when trapped in the skull of a preteen? Regardless this becomes Wilbur's problem for some reason.

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

Hello, apologies for just not putting this on tumblr for a while, I felt kinda shitty just updating like normal with the recent info in mind. But here it is!! CW's- Chat Vague depictions of violence Fighting Arguing Swearing Minor(?) injuries Hurt child Vague manipulations (techno is injured and tetchy so Wilbur's gotta get tricky) I hope that works, I'm not super confident on these warnings so if I missed any let me know.

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

Chapter 6: The Genre Aware Hero Never Escapes

Technoblade had finished bed mining and headed home long after the sun had set in the overworld. Getting enough ancient debris had taken much longer than the boy had expected and Chat was agitated at how boring the day had been.

Technolame

C’mon do something! Oh, go fight Tommy!

No! Leave the raccoon boy alone

Want blood ):

Techno c’mon~

The hybrid huffed and shook his head, “Chat I’m tired don’t be like this. We didn’t have a bad time, we talked to a sounder, remember! Then we got a ton of debris! Even argued with Wilbur!”

The voices muttered bitterly but didn’t answer.

Techno hummed a sympathetic note and continued walking through the woods between the portal and his base, “C’mon don’t pout you guys, it doesn’t have to be all blood and plot all the time y’know?”

The Chat didn’t answer so the boy shrugged and ignored their agitation. He was still a long way away from his base, but he was near Pogtopia.

“It would be nice to just go to sleep, and I am allowed in the ravine still so I could just go home tomorrow?” Chat ignored him but he continued talking aloud, “It’d be awkward though, especially if Tubbo or Tommy are there. We could make it home before it’s too late right? What’s a few skeletons anyways?”

With his mind made up and the angry silence from Chat the boy continued walking past the entrance to Pogtopia.

Most nights, the piglin hybrid could walk home in the dark with no problem. The monsters weren’t a big deal when he had thousands of voices warning him and mocking him in equal measure. It wasn’t like he was going to reasonably get lost either, seeing as he had near-perfect direction. Even without Chat, he was usually pretty aware of his surroundings.

Tonight was not like most nights.

Chat was frustrated with him, and although they protect him they also demand acknowledgment and ritual. He was their runt, and they cheered him on in battle and warned him of dangers that he couldn’t see. But he was also their prodigy, and though the voices were not cruel they weren’t kind either. No gift from the blood god was kind. They were petty creatures as most trapped things tended to be.

Tonight was not like most nights.

There was a skeleton about fifteen feet behind him. There was also a horde of zombies ransacking a village about fifteen feet in the opposite direction.

Chat neglected to inform him, they would get their blood one way or another.

Techno barely dodged the first arrow, but because he did the arrow flew into one of the nearby zombies, gathering the entire horde's attention.

“Damnit Chat!” he called, diving behind a tree to take cover.

There was no way he could get rid of the zombies and take out the skeleton, not without taking a lot of damage. Not even he was that good at fighting on his best days, let alone one of the more exhausting days he’d had in a while.

The boy grunted and dove forward at the encroaching zombies, slashing and hacking. For every zombie he downed, another popped into his immediate circle. With the skeleton taking potshots every few minutes just made things worse.

Techno finally took out most of the mobs, but he was dangerously low on health and had an unfortunate amount of arrows in him. He dove behind a tree after taking out the final zombie and caught his breath, hissing at Chat.

“Are you happy? There's your godsdamned blood.”

You’re bleeding lol

Runt don’t pout

Blood for the blood god

Hiding doesn’t suit you.

Technoblade sighed angrily, “Blood for the Blood God, wah wah, we’re the voices in your head and we wanna make fun of you all the time, whatever.”

Tech had distracted himself from the fight with his mimicking and missed the skeleton changing position and firing.

The arrow aimed true and knocked him down to a half heart, leaving him gasping for breath. “Shit okay, sorry Chat! Sorry, sorry, sorry! Get me out of here, please?” he bit back whines as he moved for more cover.

Chat tittered anxiously,

Oh, lots of blood.

Okay, too many holes in the boy

Duck behind this tree!

Head back to Pogtopia runt.

The boy nodded and stumbled in and out of the treeline, heading towards the ravine.

By the time he made it to the entrance, he had begun to sway on his feet and whine with every step. He pushed into the entrance and listed awkwardly against the wall, catching his breath.

The piglin hybrid managed to get down the stairs towards the main room, “S’anybody home?” he mumbled out.

Chat began to shout in his skull,

Need Wilbur

Or Niki?

Even Tommy at this point

This sucks guys

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Not the time for spam you guys

“Shut up Ch’t, too loud.” whined the boy, before collapsing in the main sitting room.

Up!

Technolate

Not sleepy time runt

SOS

Techno faded into a vague haze of dizzy pain and hoped that someone would come by soon.

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

Wilbur had been having a good day. Tommy had stayed out of trouble, his recent defeat resting colorfully in his mind, Tubbo had gotten less anxious the further they had moved from the festival even though it had only been two days, and Niki was relaxing much more often than she had that first day.

All in all the day had been good barring his little disaster with Technoblade that morning. That is how Wilbur had known with a sinking certainty that something was wrong.

Pogtopia had been far too quiet when the three rebels had returned later that night. The door had already been opened when they got there.

“Tommy shut up.” the man whispered, gesturing towards the door and looking around anxiously.

Tommy glared but silenced himself, glancing between Niki and Tubbo quickly.

Nikachu muttered anxiously, “Did ya leave the door open when you left this morning Tubs?”

Tubbo shook his head and the two adults shifted in front of the boys before drawing their swords silently.

“Stay put.” Wilbur stared ahead cautiously and had Niki follow him in.

The two cleared the entrance room and gestured the boys inside before heading down the stairs.

“I’ll check the bedrooms, can you get the main room Wil?” Niki whispered.

Wilbur nodded and the two split up.

Nikachu hadn’t found anything in the bedrooms except for Tommy’s unfortunate amount of random rocks and Tubbo’s massive collection of sweaters. She messaged Wilbur and asked if he had found anything.

There was no reply.

Niki waited five minutes before marching towards the main room, at that moment Wilbur called into the passageway, “Hey Niki? Need a hand, do we have a med kit?”

She swore and ran in before finding a strange sight.

Wilbur was crouched in the middle of the floor with his sword tossed to the side, all the torches except for one were unlit and the flaming one was resting on its side next to Technoblade.

The piglin in question was laying on his back with an unfortunate amount of arrows sticking out of gaping wounds. He was covered in mud and blood, so much so that it was dripping off his mask, and the gashes on his side were a sickly yellow color. He was barely awake and mumbling in piglin something about a side character's death.

“What the fuck?” Niki asked, dropping her sword and taking a step back.

“I don’t know Niki, do we have a fucking medkit or not?” Wilbur snapped, running his hands through his hair.

“Oh yeah, yeah I’ll get it.” She spun on her heel and raced towards the entrance room. “Medkit, sure, definitely.”

Tubbo and Tommy crowded her as soon as she appeared, “What’s wrong Niki? What’s happening? Are we under attack? Where’s Wilbur?”

Nikachu shoved between them and dove for the chest, “Not attacked, Technoblade is bleeding out on our floor, Wilbur’s with him. Need a medkit.”

“Technoblade is what?” Tommy screeched.

“Technoblade?” Tubbo asked quietly.

“Yes, I know guys, I don’t have the time though so c’mon or don’t.” Niki snarked anxiously, dashing towards the doorway into the deeper ravine.

The three of them ran silently and quickly into the living area. Technoblade did not look much better but he definitely seemed more aware.

“What the fuck dude.” Tommy gawked.

Wilbur glanced up sharply before looking back to glare at Techno again.

“F’ck off Wil, go fuck a fish or something,” Technoblade mumbled before trying to push himself up.

Tubbo coughed out a laugh, “You doin’ okay Technoblade?”

“Mmm, not ‘mportant ram boy. Lemme go.”

Niki shook her head, “Techno you’re delirious, please let us help, what even happened to you?” She slowly stepped closer to the piglin in question, stopping when he flinched.

“No! G’ way!” The boy cried as he scrambled backward.

Wilbur sighed, “Tech you need to listen to us.”

The hybrid glanced up cautiously.

“You’re hurt pretty bad dude, you need our help. We aren’t gonna hurt you okay? Just uh calm down.” Wilbur spoke slowly and quietly, taking care not to move too much.

The boy stared balefully, “No.”

Tommy glared and marched over. “C’mon big man, if you bleed everywhere we have to clean it up. Don’t be an asshole.”

Techno shifted back quickly as the boy moved, “No! Stay away! Don’ want your ‘elp an’ I don’ need an’thing!”

“Why not!” Niki twitched from her seat on the floor.

Wilbur glared at the rest of the rebels, silencing them. “Tech, tell me what’s the matter with you okay? Fine, you don’t want help, but at least tell me what’s wrong please?”

Technoblade looked down at the blood pooling in his lap. “Not gonna help?” he asked hesitantly.

Tubbo went to answer but Wilbur cut him off, “If you want. Just tell me what’s wrong, alright?”

The boy nodded hesitantly, “Hurts.”

“What does?” Niki asked anxiously.

Techno shrunk back and glanced around the room quickly. He shook his head and stared at his feet again.

Wilbur looked around at the rest of them. “D’ya want them to leave Tech? Can you just tell one of us? Me or Niki or someone?”

Tommy glanced around sharply but held his tongue.

Tech nodded slowly and gestured towards Wilbur hesitantly.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to tell all of us, they can leave.” Wilbur glanced back at the others before turning his attention back to the hybrid on the floor.

Tubbo pulled Niki and Tommy out and left the medkit on the floor where the woman had sat previously.

“S’at better Technoblade?” The man watched the boy anxiously, the pump of adrenaline leaving him fidgeting in place.

He nodded before muttering, “It hurts Wil.”

Wilbur nodded sympathetically, “Yeah I bet, what’s uh, what hurts specifically?”

Techno chewed on his lip till it bled slightly. “Back s’all cut up by arrows I think, there’s some slashes on my side? Think I hit my head?”

“Okay, what happened? Do you know?”

The piglin muttered to himself in his native language before squinting and glancing up at the man sitting a few feet from him. “Zombies an’ a skeleton? I’ve only one-half heart. Wilbur breathed in slowly and counted on the exhale, “That’s no good dude. Would you mind if I looked at your injuries? I don’t have to do anything.”

Technoblade glared for a minute, “You tryna trick me Soot?”

Wilbur laughed, “No, I just want to help you s’all.”

The child pulled a sour face. “You can‘elp me though.”

Wilbur tilted his head, “Why not? I’ve got the stuff.”

“Don’t wan’ owe you ‘nymore though. You already wan’ some’ing from me.” the boy muttered anxiously.

Wilbur shook his head, barely biting back the exasperation, he glanced around the room and let his mind wander for a moment. “But, but uh, I want to help you! So really you’d be doing me a favor Tech.”

“You sure?”

“Yup, just do me a favor and let me fix you up yeah?” Wilbur asked as he leaned back to grab the kit.

“Kay, if you w’nt.” the pig nodded carefully.

“Can the others come in to help me? Niki and Tubbo are much better at healing than I am, and I’m pretty sure Tommy wouldn’t let them go in without him.” Wilbur asked hesitantly.

Technoblade shrugged his shoulders and muttered some more in piglin.

#dsmp #c!technoblade #c!wilbur #c!tommyinnit #c!nikachu #c!tubbo #technoblades chat #fanfic #fanfiction #kidnoblade #kid!technoblade au #grace is writing

1 note · View note

archived-kin · 3 years

Text

petty ghost haunts their murderer but doesn’t actually do anything vengeful, more at eleven

note from kin: i don’t even know what this is myself to be honest but the simple way of putting it is that you were accidentally killed by one of satan’s fits of rage and now your ghost follows him around and messes with him at any given opportunity out of pettiness

basically i came up with the prompt ‘vengeful spirit is more of a slightly miffed and extremely petty spirit who doesn’t actually do much but inconvenience their hauntee, shenanigans ensue’ and ran with it

(as a heads up, reader is not mc in this situation, and this takes place before any of the exchange program stuff, so belphie’s not in the attic and solomon and the angels aren’t in the devildom)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, satan, beelzebub

pairing(s): satan/reader (though it isn’t particularly romantic since you’re, y’know, dead, so it’s more of a satan & reader)

warning(s): references to death, beel eats an entire rotisserie chicken

genre: crack (with a bit of fluff i guess???)

“For the last time, [Name], put the knife down.”

“Bite me, bitch-boy.”

Satan lets out a long-suffering sigh and sets down his mug of coffee, then reaches out and carefully pushes the floating butter knife pointed directly at his jugular back down onto the table. “I don’t know why you keep trying that. You do know it wouldn’t actually get through my skin even if you did manage to hit me, right?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” comes your disembodied voice from somewhere near the ceiling. You’ve probably decided to float up there to sulk like you always do after a failed attack.

“I’d prefer you didn’t think about it at all.”

A still-wet towel pulls itself from the rack on the wall and hits him square in the face. Satan gives an exasperated groan as it slides down his face and lands on the table with a soft splat.

“That’s what you get,” You sniff indignantly, finally materialising in front of him with a scowl. You’re floating upside down in a way that makes it look like you’re standing on the ceiling. “Buttface.”

“Come on, you can come up with better material than that,” Satan shakes his head, pushing back his chair and picking up the wet towel you’ve just flung at him to hang it back up again. “Where did all your creativity from yesterday go?”

“Six feet under with the remains of my body, probably,” you reply with a scowl. Then, as an afterthought, you add, “Confounded cheese wheel.”

“Oh, that’s a new one,” He comments, mildly surprised. “Where’d you pick that up?”

“Made it up myself. Ha!” You bob past him and through the wall, most likely to go terrorise Mammon by making his lights flicker on and off again. “Guess my creativity isn’t as dead as I am after all.”

“You still haven’t gotten over that, I see.” He sighs.

Your head immediately pops back out of the wall and glares across the room at him. “Excuse me?”

“It’s been weeks now - months, even,” Satan explains carefully as he sits back down at the table, not wanting to aggravate you further. The last time he'd brought something like this up, he’d ended up making you so angry that you’d managed to become physically corporeal enough to fling him across the room. “I would have thought you’d have passed on by now, that’s all. Surely it doesn’t take this long for the gates to the Celestial Realm to open?”

You consider his words, apparently appeased by their logic. “...I guess. Maybe I’m not passing on because I can’t rest in peace yet, like the ghosts do in horror films.”

“They’re films, you can’t expect to apply what happens in them to reality,” Satan replies flatly. “Besides, even if that was the situation, you've met all the criteria to 'rest in peace’, haven't you?”

“Are you trying to tell me, the dead one here, what merits as ‘resting in peace’?” You counter, floating back through the wall so that your entire body is in the room again. “My murderer’s still walking about like he doesn’t dress in the entire green colour spectrum and think it’s a good idea. How am I supposed to rest in peace knowing that?”

Satan looks down at his outfit, a little offended. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What’s right with your clothes?” You shoot back, drifting over to him and passing a ghostly hand through his shoulder, apparently too lazy to muster up the energy to make your hand physical enough to touch him. “Look at it! Your blazer doesn’t even have lapels!”

“It isn’t a blazer.”

“Jacket, then.” You make a move as if to pinch at the fabric, but your fingers just pass right through it like a hot knife through butter. “It doesn’t even fit you. The sleeves are too short.”

Satan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to wear it if it didn’t fit me. Besides, why does it matter to you?”

“The demon I might be doomed to be attached to for the rest of my afterlife has the worst fashion sense in all three realms is the matter,” You sigh dramatically and float up to the ceiling again. “Why do you even wear rip-off jeans if you’re going to put a belt over it?”

“First of all, they aren’t rip-off jeans,” Satan tells you as you start idly making the kitchen light flicker. He should probably tell you to stop doing that whenever you get bored, but he’s gotten so used to it at this point that he can’t really be bothered to. “And, second of all, why does it matter if I’m wearing a belt on it?”

“Rip-off jeans are meant to be ripped off,” You explain with all the patience of a mother explaining something to a curious child, completely disregarding Satan’s first point. “Putting a belt on top of it kind makes that redundant.”

Satan thinks about it for a moment and begrudgingly comes to the conclusion that your statement is correct - not that it makes a difference to him. “...they’re still not rip-off jeans.”

“Think whatever you want to think, burro verde.”

“What?”

“It means green donkey in Spanish.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I took Spanish for, like, three years when I was in high school,” You shrug, and the light brightens and dims slightly with the movement of your shoulders, as if it’s shrugging with you. “Failed all the exams, but at least I got something worthwhile out of it.”

“Three years of linguistic lessons and all you learn is how to string together bizarre insults,” Satan shakes his head. “You really are incorrigible.”

“That’s a big word. You sure you know what it means?”

“Of course I do,” He gives you a slightly disgruntled look. “I wouldn’t use it if I didn’t. What do you take me for?”

“Someone who doesn’t know what incorrigible means, obviously.” You pretend to aim a kick at the spider perched quietly in the corner of the ceiling, but Timothy ignores your efforts to boot him from his web. After a moment, growing tired of bothering the little guy, you ask, “...what does it mean?”

Satan snickers, then answers, sounding as if he’s reading the definition directly out of a dictionary, “In reference to a person or their behaviour, unable to be changed or reformed.”

You contemplate his words for a few seconds. “Is that a good thing?”

“Not usually when that particular word is used for it, no.”

“Oh. Bitch.”

He pauses at that, moving his mug of now marginally cooler coffee away from his mouth again, having been in the middle of taking another sip when you decided to insult him again. “Where did that come from?”

“You called me incorrigible, which you just said is not a good thing to be,” You explain as if it’s obvious, frowning down at him. “So I’m taking it as an insult and insulting you back. Bitch.”

“You didn’t have to say it again.”

“I didn’t, but it’s fun to call you names.” You snort and glide down from the ceiling to float above the table, crossing your legs and pretending to sit down on it. “It’s not as fun as it used to be, though. You never get all puffed up about it anymore.”

“That’s your own fault for doing it so much that I got used to it,” Satan reproaches. “Besides, it was pointless getting angry. It’s not like I can do anything to you in return.”

“You could ignore me and pretend I don’t exist or something.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“No!” You hurriedly throw up your hands in a gesture of surrender and shake your head so hard that Satan swears he actually feels a breeze - an even more impressive achievement considering that your body isn’t even tangible. “Please don’t. You’re the only being in the entire universe that I can actually interact with.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing,” Satan mutters.

“It’s a good thing for me, and that’s all that matters,” You reply, unfazed.

No one other than Satan appears to have the ability to see you, which is an odd thing in and of itself. Ghosts aren’t a foreign thing to the Devildom - they’re so common that you could probably just walk into a convenience store and find one shelving cans of soup - but you don’t seem to follow any of the rules that they do. Sometimes Satan wonders if you’re able to actively choose to not allow his brothers to see you as you drift around the house, but then again, he’s pretty sure that, if you had the option to make Lucifer watch you pretend to fist fight that weird skeleton hanging in his room, you definitely would.

Satan doesn’t pretend to understand the laws of your otherworldly existence - he’s read so many variations on the rules behind lingering spirits like you that he can scarcely tell the difference between pure fiction and actual logical hypothesis. It’s easy enough to wrangle you into behaving for a day so that he can observe you properly by promising to leave his radio on for you while he’s out, but the observations themselves never seem to lead to anything. He knows that you’re able to pass through any physical object (as far as he knows), can make lights (of both the electronic and candle variety) flicker at will, can muster up enough physicality to move and touch things if you try, and can phase in and out of perceivable view, but he doesn’t know why you can do any of those things.

“Quit trying to come up with explanations for everything,” You’d told him wisely a month or so ago, when you’d floated in on him muttering to himself about the possibility of something called ‘ether energy’. “You’re just gonna give yourself a headache.”

Then you’d started making his candles flicker like disco lights until he stopped.

“...but I don’t think he spotted me, since he probably would’ve commented on the floating meat cleaver if he did, and— hey, big guy!”

That last exclamation is aimed at Beel, who has just walked into the kitchen and is now rummaging unceremoniously through the fridge, most likely in search of something to eat. At this point Satan’s pretty sure that you still don’t know any of his brothers’ names - at the very least, even if you do, you’ve never called them by them.

Beel continues to sort through the various already empty boxes and containers in the fridge as you start zooming back and forth through him, marvelling over the sheer broadness of his chest and shoulders. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this to him - or indeed any of the brothers - but Satan can tell that it’s more innocent awe than any kind of objectification or intent to harm, so he doesn’t mind. As mischievous as you are, he’s pretty sure you don’t have a genuinely malicious or wanton bone in your body... well, you don’t have any bones anymore - or a body, for that matter - but the point still stands.

“Hungry?” He guesses, but it’s honestly more of a statement. It is Beel, after all.

The Avatar of Gluttony withdraws from his search briefly to offer a nod. “I didn’t get to finish all of my lunch.”

“Well, there’s a surprise,” You comment as Beel sticks his head back into the fridge, finally tiring of buffeting yourself back and forth like a pendulum and choosing to start hovering just over the second youngest’s shoulders to watch his hunt. “Wonder what he was up to that got him to stop eating.”

Satan opens his mouth to reply, then stops and closes it again. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Beel with the not-really-a-secret of your existence, but he’s sure that at some point or another, Beel will end up letting it slip to Lucifer, who would most likely want to know why your death ended up attaching your spirit to his brother, and Satan’s already gone to great lengths to make sure that the oldest won’t find out about the rampage he went on that cost you your life in the first place. It'd just be a waste of that effort for Lucifer to find out anyway. Besides, it isn’t like the information will make much difference to Beel - he can’t see or hear you, and you’re pretty harmless, so there wouldn’t be any need for him to get involved in the situation anyway.

You, meanwhile, are well aware that Satan isn’t going to be saying anything to you while one of his brothers is in the room - you don’t really understand his reasoning for it, since you like to think that you’re a pleasure of a ghost to know, but you suppose you can’t really force him to make any decisions. Besides, you’re pretty content with the way things are right now; you don’t want to complicate the situation by bringing in another demon who, as far as you know, might just smite you on the spot if they find out about your existence.

Instead, you busy yourself with watching in fascination as Beel somehow pulls what looks like a rotisserie chicken from the very back of the fridge and shove the whole thing in this mouth. You exchange slightly disturbed looks with Satan as he begins to chew - you’re pretty sure you’ve just seen him dislocate his jaw like a snake to fit it in there.

“You might want to calm down, Beel,” Satan advises after a brief moment’s stunned silence, though even he knows that it’s a fruitless warning. “You’ll end up choking.”

Beel nods, but makes absolutely no move to slow in his aggressive chewing.

“This must be what the peak of evolution looks like,” You say in bemused awe as Beel finishes eating. The entire chicken has disappeared down his throat - bones and all. “How the hell does he manage that?”

Satan doesn’t answer, but his subtle shrug says that your guess is as good as his.

Much to your surprise and Satan’s resignation, Beel immediately goes back to the fridge, apparently unsatisfied by the copious amount of fowl he’s just eaten. To be honest, you feel sorry for the guy - while the you from when you’d still been able to eat would have done some unspeakable things to be able to consume as much as he does and still remain that fit, you’re sure that the black hole he calls a stomach must be an awful thing to have to deal with. At least he gets to enjoy a lot of food because of it, though you suppose it’s a double-edged sword if he’s also constantly being scolded for it. Personally, you don’t understand the reasoning behind telling someone off for eating as much food as they need, but they are demons. You probably shouldn’t expect them to have that level of compassion.

By the time you break out of your train of thought, Beel has found something else to eat amidst the many empty boxes in the fridge. It’s much smaller than the rotisserie chicken - some kind of pastry with a dollop of snowy white cream on top, decorated with a few lines of melted chocolate to look like a cat’s face. In fact, it looks almost identical to…

“Hey, wait!” You swipe a useless hand through Beel’s arm as he raises the pastry to his mouth. “Don’t eat that—!”

Too late. The pastry disappears into Beel’s mouth, and you drift backwards again, letting out a defeated groan. Satan shoots you a curious look - you can’t eat, after all, so why are you so upset about Beel eating that pastry? Is there something special about it?

His question is answered when he actually turns to look at his younger brother. The Avatar of Gluttony has gone rigid on the spot and is blinking rapidly, his eyes the size of moons.

“Beel…?” Satan questions hesitantly. “Are you feeling alright?”

Beel takes a long moment to respond, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Satan takes a closer look and realises that Beel’s pupils seem to have dilated to an almost impossible degree, resembling a cat’s eyes when it’s about to go absolutely feral. Whatever it is was in that pastry, it’s definitely hit him hard.

Now, Satan isn’t one to interrupt good fun when it’s about to happen, so instead of stepping in and performing some sort of spell that might help on his possibly-high brother like a good guy, he sits back and watches as Beel’s head swings around the room as if he's never seen anything in it before like the mischief-loving little shit he is. Beel himself doesn’t appear to be negatively affected, so it can’t be that bad, right?

You float cautiously around the giant as his hands ball into fists. His entire body is trembling slightly with pent-up energy. Then, a split second later, as if he’s been zapped by some catalystic bolt of lightning, he abruptly snaps back on his heel and positively zooms out of the room. You can practically see the cartoony cloud of dust that he’s kicking up as he disappears down the corridor.

“He’s absolutely zooted right now,” You comment, flipping upside with a resigned sigh and crossing your arms a little grumpily. “I told him not to eat it.”

“He couldn’t hear you, you know,” Satan says, moving over to the fridge and slamming it shut, since Beel has neglected to. “What was even in that thing?”

You shrug. “Don’t know. I’ve just been calling it demon-nip.”

“I suppose that it does to demons what catnip does to cats, then?” Satan doesn’t even wait for you to answer before continuing - rude. “How did you even get a hold of it? Never mind that, how did you manage to get it in a pastry and put it in the fridge?”

“I got some help from one of the poltergeists downtown to make it,” You wave your hands about dismissively. “You should pay more attention when you go out. I disappeared for, like, five hours, and you didn’t even notice.”

“When even was this?”

“Tuesday, I think. Remember when you bought that giant bag of cat paw-shaped biscuits and then accidentally dropped the bag in the hall and got them everywhere?”

You don’t miss the way that the tips of his ears go slightly pink as he coughs subtly and averts his gaze. “...why would the poltergeists help you? They hate humans.”

“I don’t know, actually…” You ponder for a moment, then decide, “...probably because I’m cute.”

“Are you?” Satan deadpans. “Cute is what you’d call a cat. You’re just… tolerable.”

“Oh, fuck you, I think I’m adorable.” You huff, flying over and poking him hard in the side of the head. Satan hisses in pain and reaches up to rub the sore spot, but he supposes he should have seen that blow coming - you’re never too humble to make yourself physical enough to hit him after an insult.

“Where did that idea even come from?” He asks quickly, not wanting to take another attack. You may be a mere imprint of a dead human, but your fingers are sharp, and he’d prefer not to provoke you further if he can avoid it.

His change of subject is so abrupt and obvious that it’s almost laughable, but you choose not to call him out on it. As much as you’d like to set him on fire or something, he hasn’t given you a really good reason to commit arson yet, and you’d just end up feeling bad for doing it. Well, to be fair, he did kill you… but still, you don’t want to keep holding that over his head.

“I read it in a book.” You answer. Satan’s eyes light up slightly.

“Do you remember the title?” He asks almost eagerly, and you disguise a snicker. His intentions are practically painted in bright red paint across his face - he’s hoping that there’ll be more schemes like the one you’ve performed that he can use against that sadist of an older brother of his.

Unfortunately for him, the book doesn’t exist. “Yeah. It’s called One Hundred Ways To Get Back At The Ass That Killed You, Free Of Murder and Actual Crimes That Might Get You Persecuted And Sent To Super Hell.”

Satan clearly isn’t thinking very hard today, because for a moment he actually looks as if he believes you - you suppose it’s because he’s grown desensitised to the oddness of such long titles after hearing so many weirdly specific anime titles from the otaku brother that you still have yet to see come out of his room. (You’ve floated in a few times to have a look around and appreciate the decor, but other than that, you’ve barely even seen his face. You’re not even sure what his name is, to be honest…)

He realises what you’re getting at after a moment, though, and immediately frowns at you in disapproval. You just grin, pleased with your small victory.

“You're insufferable,” He says, shaking his head with an long sigh.

“No, I'm cute,” You counter, frowning. “Weren't you listening to me earlier?”

He throws his hands up hastily as you drift forward with a hand brandished and a nasty glint in your eye, unwilling to get jabbed at again. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

You, however, don't relent. Eyes narrowing, you float even closer - so close that, if you'd been physical, he’d have been able to feel your breath on his face. “Say it.”

Satan may be one of the seven most powerful demons in the Devildom (below Diavolo, of course, and possibly Barbatos), but the aggression of a pissed-off ghost, especially if that ghost is you, isn't anything he wants to be on the receiving end of right now. “Fine, fine! You're adorable, you're cute, whatever. Now will you leave me alone?”

You finally pull back, beaming in a gratified fashion. “That's all I wanted to hear!”

Satan gives you an irritated look as you drift back across the kitchen, a satisfied grin on your face. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that already,” You sing back, laughing in victory when you see his eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance. “And you had the nerve to lecture me about creativity earlier! Why don’t you come up with better material, Mr Shoes-Up-My-Ass?”

He doesn’t reply for a good moment, attempting to think of a insult to counter your admittedly slightly juvenile one. Try as he might, though, all of his good jibes seem to have evaporated. “...shut up.”

His pathetic response, of course, immediately compels you to take the piss out of him. Clutching your chest dramatically, as if Satan’s just stabbed you with the knife you’d been waving about earlier, you wail, “Oh, thy words do wound me! 'Tis like thou hath rip’d my heart out with thy own hands!”

Satan glares you for a long moment, but he doesn’t have the heart to keep it up when you’re grinning so brightly. Honestly, you’re a nuisance and a brat sometimes, sure, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider you his closest friend at this point. “...do you even know how to use those words?”

You drop the act faster than Asmo throws it down on a Saturday night, shrugging and floating back over to hover just above the chair across from Satan’s. “Nope. It sounded right, though, right?”

“I haven’t read enough works in Old English to know,” Satan admits with a shake of his head. “But it did, I suppose…”

It’s kind of weird that he’s agreeing so easily, you think. Has he just had enough of your bullshit and is complying with to keep you quiet? Or has he just finally seen the light of your brilliance?

...well, you suppose it doesn’t matter. You grin and move to ruffle his hair, but forget to make your hand physical and instead end up flying right through his head. Satan shudders slightly - though he doesn’t feel it, it’s still weird to have an entire hand and arm go through his cranium.

“Could you not?” He complains as you right yourself and pull your hand back again. “This feels weird.”

“Baby.”

“Pet names aren’t going to do anything,” He sighs, pulling his chair to the side so that he’s no longer half-inside your torso. “Hands to yourself.”

“No, it was an insult,” You correct him. “I was calling you a baby. Though bitch-boy works too.”

Satan lets out a long sigh. Now you’re just back where you started.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #satan x reader #except it's more of a satan & reader #crack #ghosts #swd satan #swd beelzebub #I've taken a look through my obey me drafts and noticed a pattern #if i'm writing about one of the brothers beel always seems to show up as a cameo #now that i think about it this prompt has some real angst potential...#unfortunately i seem to incapable of writing anything but fluf and funny in these trying times #anyway i hope you enjoyed this!!#the ending is super abrupt but i've already spent too long on this thing so just TAKE IT

636 notes · View notes

silverishy · 3 years

Text

waking up in the morning and looking at the bare walls, once adorned with their smiling face.

reaching for your phone to invite them to a new movie that they would absolutely love to watch, but realizing the last conversation in your messages with them was four months ago, and even then, it was polite and strained.

no one tells you how to cope with losing a friend.

there's overwhelming advice on how to get over a lost lover.

everyone tells you to binge ice cream and romcoms, they tell you that the best way to drown out your loss is to drown yourself in one-night stands and alcohol, they tell you that the pain will soon heal and you'll be with your new other half soon enough, once you cut your hair and start your life over.

but when you lose a friend, there's rarely a dramatic fight that ends with one person in tears on one side of the door, and the other punching the other side of the wall. there's no calling things off and agreeing to see other people with the secret knowledge that you'll find your way back to each other.

there's talking on the phone ever day, and then every few days, and watching those days turn into weeks and months while the silence between you turns into radio static.

you remember their birthdays and why they shut everyone out on every June 26th and what their dad's laugh sounds like and what they no longer hide under their mattress and what their favorite Halloween candy is.

and you don't know what to do with all this knowledge, since you can't just tell them that "I still remember which skeletons in your closet you have still hiding in there, and which ones I helped you dispose of. I still remember your favorite childhood memory and which arcade game you're still determined to beat. I still remember the night you broke up with Emily and how I helped you paintball her house in a fit of petty rage."

you cradled the memories in your head until you pack them away tight, like the stuffed animal they left at your house one day and never asked about again, and the dream journal you two created when you were 9, and the anklet they asked you to fix and never got around to fixing.

you grew up with each other in your hearts, but the space inside never grew along with you both. so as you grew up, you broke each others' hearts.

... so how do you cope with losing a friend?

do you visit their favorite places whenever they're preoccupied just so you don't have to run into them and stumble through awkward, stilted conversation, and follow the same routine as they did whenever they visited those museums or parks? you run your hands along the spines of the mystery and science fiction books they used to buy in large quantities and pick up a book they used to love, but remembering that they're no longer in your life, you pay for it and annotate it until it's full of bittersweet notes and you tuck it away to never be seen again.

do you clear your head of everything they left behind in your mind and throw yourself into your existing friendships? you may keenly feel the loss of one friend, but you still have other friends that are feeling the loss of friendship, so you can mend their wounds while they help heal yours, through late night campfires and early morning jogs. if your old friend was part of your friend group, just know you aren't the only one suffering and you can heal your wounds all together. you can only staunch your bleeding for so long until you become too weak to fend for yourself, so let others help you out in your time of healing and you'll feel inclined to do the same for them.

do you start to meet new people through book clubs and yoga and immerse yourself in the worlds that are now new to you, and slowly come to accept that you're becoming fast friends with them already? you learn some of their secrets during late-night conversations, and grow platonically intimate through nights of strip poker and days of acoustic concerts. there will always be more opportunities to lose those friends but there will always be opportunities to make more, and that's just the beauty of life. your friends will remember all you bared and they will miss you when you leave their lives, but you had the mutual joy of meeting a kindred spirit, and the building blocks of friendship and the finished product that forms the shape of a long-term friend will always be more powerful than the loss.

slowly, the pain of losing your close friend dulls until it's just a familiar but rare ache in your chest that only appears when you think you see them in a crowd but they've already gone, or when you think you hear their name in someone else's conversation but it was just someone else. you no longer have a ruined mood when you hear the song they loved to play in the car, and your hand falls back to your side when you see a comic book they would have loved to read.

you'll lose friends and you'll make them, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. you can't force someone to fit in your life when the shape of your hearts no longer align with the spaces you previously occupied inside. they smoothed out their jagged edges and you had to cut off some of your own. everyone is part of one giant puzzle, and it's hard to find people you match up with, but you'll enjoy the time you have with the people you meet, because everyone is always changing and for everyone that steps out of your life, there will be someone else that fits in perfectly with the space the other friend couldn't quite fill.

81 notes · View notes