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#reader lore
valleynix · 1 year
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I just saw ur angsty post on what if readers family came looking for them and I’m so sad now… TIME FOR SOME HAPPY IDEAS TO COPE
So if reader actually tried to reconnect with their lost family the dimitrescus would meet their family too yk.. and I can just imagine the dimitrescus panicking so much about their mother because they’d want to make a good impression on her 😭😭😭 all of them just being a nervous wreck trying to get on reader’s mother’s good side- and if reader had a little sibling, I’d imagine them (probably cass and Dani) playing with them. I’d bet they tried to find embarrassing stories on reader when they were young to fuck with them later on
PLEASEEE BAHAHAHA I LOVE THIS-
you know it would be an absolute “disaster” if they met Reader’s mother- the former of which would be like “🤨⁉️” when they see these noble, refined murderers NERVOUS to meet their mother
Alcina claims she’s not nervous at all and is actually very excited to meet their mother, but she’s had three glasses of wine at that point, so…
Bela probably has some blood dripping from the corner of her lip and she’s just “:)” while their mother is “😨” (she’s offended and doesn’t understand why their mother doesn’t accept her offer to help her with her jacket 😒)
Cassandra was actually the calmest one, up until the point she was 100% showing off her muscles both to Reader and their little sibling (mostly to Reader) and accidentally revealed the very large sickle at her waist. panic ensues. oops
Daniela was also fine, but she just couldn’t stop her flies from buzzing around her form out of excitement. she gets to meet her love’s family!!! she’s so happy!!!! and her bugs won’t stop biting people!!!!!!
but Reader’s little sibling would 100% snitch on them about things they would do pre-Miranda and both Cass and Dani are saving it for ammunition to prank them later
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lightasthesun · 4 months
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Comprehensive Lexicon Guide for First-Time SW Fic Readers:
Flimsi/Flimsiplast = Paper
Flimsiwork/Datawork = Paperwork
Stylus = Pen
Datapad = Tablet
Comlink/Comm = Communication Device/Phone
Binders = Handcuffs
Chronometer = Clock
Spectacles = Eyeglasses
Chrono = Watch
Conservator = Refrigerator
Caf = Coffee
Nerfburger = Hamburger
Blue milk = Milk (literally blue)
Hubba chips = French Fries
Sweet roll = Doughnut
Flatcakes = Pancakes
Tabac = Tobacco
HoloNet = World Wide Web
Holovision/HoloTV = Television
Holodrama/Holovids = Movie/Videos
Holocamera/Holocam = Camera
Holomap = three-dimensional map
Holojournal = Newspaper
Holocube = Picture frame
Holotable = Projector
Holoscanner = X-ray machine
Holojournalist = Reporter
Flatholo/Holograph = Photograph
Sonic Damper = Active Noise Cancellation
Refresher/Fresher= Bathroom
Sonic Bath = Bath
Sanisteam/Sonic shower = Waterless Shower
Hydrospanner = Wrench
Hydro Flask = Water Bottle
Power Cell/Energy Cell = Batteries
Authorization Chip = Decryption key
Datatape = Disk
Datastick = Flash drive
(Personal) Com Code = Phone number
Datachip = SD Card
Synthflesh = Synthetic skin
Glowrod = Flashlight
Sparkstick = Match
Slugthrower = Gun
Slug = Bullet
Vibroblade = a blade that can vibrate at high frequencies, increasing its cutting power and penetrating ability (tactical knife)
Rangefinder = Rifle scope
Turbolaser = Cannon
Ion pike/Vibropike = Spear
Electro Staff = Stun baton
Blaster = Pistol/Rifle
Stun Blaster = similar to a Taser
Landspeeder/Airspeeder/Speeder = Car
Turbolift = Elevator
Slideramp = Escalator
Starfighter = Fighter jet
Rotorcraft = Helicopter
Hoverpack/Jetpack= Jet pack
Speeder Bike = Motorcycle
Skylane = Traffic lane
Railspeeder/Hovertrain = Train
Power Chair/Hoverchair= Wheelchair
Windscreen = Windshield
Podracing = Car racing
Dejarik = Chess
Sabacc = Poker and Blackjack combined
Galactic Rebels = Combat simulator
B'shingh = Dungeons and dragons
Jizz = Jazz music
Wailer = Singer (ie. Jizz Wailer)
Cantina = Bar or Pup
Para Sailing = Paragliding
Aurebesh = Alphabet
Credits = Money
Sleeping Pallet = Bedroll
Naming Day = Birthday
Youngling = Child
Galactic Basic Standard/ Basic = English
Medkit/Medpac = First aid kit
Hypo = Syringe
Medic/Healer = Doctor
Medcenter = Hospital
Bactapatch = Bandaid
Nanoweave = Fabric
Transparisteel = Glass
Plastifoam = Packing material
Durasteel = Steel
Plasteel = Plastic
Duracrete = Concrete
Slicer = Hacker (slicing = hacking)
Identikit = Passport
Minder = Therapist
Synthleather = Vinyl
Viewport = Window
Cooling Unit = Air-conditioning
Honeydarter = Bee
Slythmonger = Drugdealer
Spice = Drugs
Stimpill = Caffeine pill
Power Socket = Plug
Cutters = Scissors
Cycle = Day
Standard Cycle = 24h
Standard Week = 5 days
Standard Month = 35 standard days
Standard Year = approx. ten months
Tenday = literally ten days
Cigarras/Smokes = Cigarettes
Click = Kilometer or 'a moment'
Parsec = a unit of distance
Tweezers/Clanker/tin head/tinnie = Droid
Separatist = Seppie
Promise Ring = Wedding Ring
Body Glove = Jumpsuit
Slicksuit = Wet suit
Civvies = Civilian clothing
Carbonite = a metal alloy used to freeze a person in a state of hibernation
Hyperdrive = device that allows a starship to travel faster than lightspeed
Moisture vaporator = device that can extract water from the air, commonly used on tatooine
Glareshades = Sunglasses
Gasser = Gas Oven
Repulsorlift = technology that can create an anti-gravity field and is used for levitating heavy objects
Heating unit = Heater
Utility Droid = Roomba
Sunbonnet = a Clone trooper helmet
Bad Batcher = a defective Clone Trooper
Banthabrain = birdbrain/ a stupid person
Bantha fodder = waste of space/nonsense
Blast! = word of exclamation
Blasted! = s.o in anger or annoyance
Blaster-brained = dimwitted
Blaster fodder = cannon fodder
Blast off = Piss off
Brainless = Stupid
Bug/Bugger = used to refer to Geonosians
Forceforsaken = godforsaken
Full of Poodoo = full of shit
Poodoo = Shit
Kriff = Fuck
Jedi scum = derogatory term for jedi
Kark = derogatory expletive
Larty = LAAT/i gunship
Laserbrain = insult
Meat droid = derogatory term for Clone Troopers
Redrobes = Palpatines guard
Rookie/Shinie = newly recruited Trooper
Scum = insult to refer to bounty hunters/rebels
Sharpie = Sharp-witted
Sithspawn/Sithspit/Hellspawn! = expletive
Sleemo = Slimeball
Son of a bantha = insult
Wizard! = Cool
Spaced = dead
Hutt-spawn = Bastard
Karabast = exclamation of dismay
Stang = Crap
Buckethead/Bucketbrain = derogatory term for Stormtroopers
Bucket = Helmet
Nat-born = Natural Born
Roger Roger = affirmative/copy that
Droid poppers = EMP grenade
Sitrep = short for situation report
Backwater Planet = any planet that isn't part of the core system
Holocron = device that can project a three-dimensional image of a person/object and is used for communication or entertainment.
Kessel Run = a risky Operation. Commonly used as a metaphor in impossible situations.
Thermal Detonator= device that can create a powerful explosion like a grenade or bomb
Ray Shield/Energy Shield = creates a (protective) barrier
Rebreather = device that allows a person to breathe underwater or in toxic environments
Phrases:
Wild goose chase = wild bantha chase
That's bantha shit = that's bullshit
As slippery as a greased Dug = untrustworthy
Credit for your thoughts = penny for your thoughts
Cut the poodoo = cut the crap
to get your gills in a twist = get upset about something
Holy mother of meteors = holy mother of god
Oh my skies/ Oh my stars = exclamation of surprise
Stars' end! = exclamation of disbelief
What in the blue blazes = exclamation
When Geonosis freezes over/When it snows on tatooine = extremely unlikely
Who pissed in your power supply = who pissed you off
Blast it = damn it
By the maker = exclamation of surprise
Great karking Dragon = expression of disbelief
Lothcat got your tongue = equivalent of 'cat got your tongue?'
Sod it = expression of frustration
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turtlespancake · 7 months
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i love seeing out of context posts about long-running stories with deep lore because it's always shit like "MAJOR SPOILER WARNING!! i can't believe that the metallic athenaeum's envoy actually used never-ending dance of the 57th universe on rionne as if she's not LITERALLY the incarnate of august?!?!" it's like buddy boy thank you for the spoiler tag but all of those words are incomprehensible without at least 5 years of foreshadowed knowledge, 7 different fan theories, and 21 wiki entries
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Solomon, encouraging MC : —and you’re clearly very powerful now, starlight. You managed to take down a legion of monsters all by yourself without my help.
MC, still doubtful : Do you really think I’m powerful?
Solomon, cradling your face in his palms : I, for one, find you terrifying
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poetsblvd · 17 days
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bisous 𖤓 carlos sainz 𝒙 leclerc!reader.
❨ summary. all he wanted was a kiss, it’s not his fault the paparazzi caught it, and it’s totally coincidental that your brother’s going to kill him. ❩
❨ faceclaim. @/claudiamariewalsh on instagram <3 ❩
❨ notes. i had sm fun doing this! though it did exceed the limit i was looking at, becoming a bit long, but i do wanna do a part two to this because imo the charles x carlos beef is gonna be really funny!! i hope you enjoy xx ❩
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
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liked by charles_leclerc and 30,987 others.
yourinstagram. wined and dined xo
view all 11,345 comments.
username when god has favourites 😩
username holy shit
charles_leclerc mon poupette! tellement jolie.
yourusername je t’aime cha xx
username my brother is a dick compared to charles lmao
arthur_leclerc bet you were smelly.
yourusername bet you came out of a gutter.
username now that’s more like my brother
username not carlos creeping in the likes 👀
username girl bffr he’s like 6 years older than her??
username so lol #zaddy
username don’t ever say ‘zaddy again’.
landonorris wined, dined and sixty-nined.
charles_leclerc get out.
yourusername ew you weirdo
landonorris so it’s funny when kevin in the office says it??
yourusername he has rizz, unlike you.
maxverstappen1 real.
landonorris i hate you.
francisca.cgomes so stunning my girl 😻
yourusername love u forever keeks <33
username someone look at me like she does in the third pic 😭
carlossainz55 espléndida
yourusername 🤭❤️
charles_leclerc ???
arthur_leclerc ???
landonorris ???
username lando what??
landonorris felt a bit left out there 🤷‍♂️
⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
carlossainz55 added to their stories.
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seen by yourusername and 800,567 others.
yourusername replied to this story.
⤷ mon coeur 🫶🏼
⤷ je t’aime tellement !!
landonorris replied to this story.
⤷ did you wine her and dine her??
⤷ ;) ;)
charles_leclerc replied to this story.
⤷ i bought yn a ring so similar for her 21st!
⤷ what a small world eh mate?
⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and charles.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and carlos.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
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liked by carlossainz55 and 47,222 others.
yourinstagram sunny days ☀️
view all 24,432 comments.
username SOFT LAUNCH I REPEAT SOFT LAUNCH !!
username carlos crying in the likes lol
username someone check on big bro charlie 😭
charles_leclerc poupette???
charles_leclerc que se passe-t-il?? ( what’s going on? )
charles_leclerc you didn’t say BOYS were gonna be on this trip!!
yourusername is my hair not pretty?
yourusername you haven’t complimented it yet?
yourusername it’s healthier and you haven’t noticed :((
francisca.cgomes you should be ashamed charles_leclerc
pierregasly absolutely sick of you charles !!
landonorris even i noticed her stunning hair! it’s smoother!
maxverstappen1 disgusting behaviour
charles_leclerc ??? no ??
yourusername oh?? it’s not healthier? i’m not pretty anymore?
francisc.cgomes HOW DARE YOU charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc NON poupette desolee
yourusername don’t talk to me.
username me when i dream
gigihadid 😻😻
arthur_leclerc stunning hair btw
yourusername love u tur
username he’s being nice??
arthur_leclerc too bad it doesn’t help the ugly face lol
username nvm
charles_leclerc pick up the phone poupette
charles_leclerc you’re very pretty !! you’re hair is so shiny !!
charles_leclerc we’ll go shopping soon poupette 💌
yourusername okay charlie love u 🥰
arthur_leclerc i want a new ps5
charles_leclerc get it yourself.
carlossainz55 hermosa
username poor boy
username mans desperate fr
username not when she’s soft launching mate 😭😭
⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram
carlossainz55 added to their stories.
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seen by charles_leclerc and 1,678,432 others.
yourusername replied to this story.
⤷ photographer of the year !
⤷ very much thought you were gonna use the pic of me falling.
⤷ love u
charles_leclerc replied to this story.
⤷ girls’ hair get better every day.
⤷ looks oddly similar too tbh
⤷ where’d you say you were vacationing again mate?
charles_leclerc can no longer view your stories
landonorris replied to this story.
⤷ shiny hair 👀
⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and kika.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ texts between yn and charles, and charles and carlos.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram
yourusername added to their stories.
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seen by carlossainz55 and 986,444 others.
charles_leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ poupette you’ve never done anything wrong in your life.
⤷ i’m not mad, call me please
⤷ desolee bebe
⤷ i have that new chanel you wanted ❤️
landonorris replied to your story.
⤷ so unserious lmao
pierregasly replied to your story.
⤷ charles is going to buy the entire mall y/n !!
⤷ tell him you’re not mad at him
⤷ DONT LISTEN TO KIKA
francisca.cgomes replied to your story.
⤷ tell pierre to piss off
⤷ let charles buy you what he wants.
⤷ omg tell him you want a ferrari !!
⤷ IN PINK !!
carlossainz55 replied to your story.
⤷ mi vida your brothers texting me again
⤷ it’s very weird he’s apologising now??
⤷ he’s asking me if you want a pink ferrari??
⤷ bebita you should have told me you want a pink ferrari??
⤷ with a matching bag okay my love 🩷
arthur_leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ TELL CHARLES YOU WANT A PS5
⤷ LO TOLD ME TO FUCK OFF
⤷ STOP TELLING ON ME Y/N
lorenzotl replied to your story.
⤷ i’m very happy for you mon chou ❤️
⤷ ignore arthur he doesn’t need a new ps5
⤷ he makes his own money.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
carlossainz55 added to their stories.
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seen by charles_leclerc and 1,410,333 others.
charles leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ who do you think you are buying MY sister a pink ferrari
⤷ you be with her, okay. you date her, okay. but buying her things?
⤷ and a matching bag???
⤷ you piece of shit.
⤷ when i said we were brothers i didn’t mean this!
yourusername replied to your story.
⤷ ma vie 💌
⤷ je t’aime tellement <3
arthur_leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ y/n wants a ps5!!
⤷ brother 😃😃
francisca.cgomes replied to your story.
⤷ you picked up the correct bag for her!!
⤷ she also likes chanel and hermès !!
⤷ you’ll be outdoing charles in no time !!
⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
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⋆⭒˚.⋆
❨ disclaimer. i do not own any of the images above, all were found on pinterest, this is purely for fun and nothing is based on real life ❩
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futureman · 6 months
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happiest day
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pairing: mike schmidt x reader
summary: when you least expect it, mike surprises you with a confession
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, hint of angst, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, mentions of rough sex, requited feelings
word count: <1k
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Mike tells you he loves you for the first time the way no one ever should. Balls deep, while he's cumming inside you.
It tumbles out, a quiet moan at first, then a louder realization that takes both of you by surprise. His hips slam into your ass once, twice, and then he's filling you up, his admission hanging heavy in the air.
You're almost positive you imagined it until he repeats it again with a little more conviction.
"Fuck. I think I'm in love with you," he pants heavily, his hands intermittently squeezing your waist in time with the heady pulsing of his cock.
There's a beat of silence while you struggle to process his words, torn between the warring sensations of his release leaking down your thighs and shock tugging at your ribcage. He slips out of you as he softens, and once your connection is broken, it hits you like a ton of bricks.
"...What?"
He freezes behind you, and you immediately regret your gut response. That's not what you meant to say at all. Of course, it's not. You're just...confused. You hadn't expected it from him, not when you've only been together for a few months. Part of you wants to wait and see if he takes it back, just in case. But he doesn't.
"If...it's okay, you know. If you don't feel the same, it's okay," he mumbles, folding over you to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades.
His breath is warm and humid against your skin as he peppers soft, lingering kisses down your spine. Strong arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you like this might be his last chance, and suddenly it all feels so real. You've been too quiet for too long and now he's afraid.
You haven't told him yet, but there's no need to be. You just can't figure out how. How can anyone possibly cram the immensity of months of pizza nights on the living room floor watching James and the Giant Peach with Abby, and days off work spent tangled in bed, fucking and fighting and forgiving, into three little words?
You try anyway, but what comes out isn't a response. It's a plea. You don't know what you're asking for—you just know you need him.
"Mike," your voice shakes with it. He holds you tighter, and now there's so little space between you, you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
"You don't have to say it. It's okay, I won't be mad. I just...I need you to say something. Anything," he whispers, his day-old stubble rough and grounding as he speaks.
He nuzzles into you, breathing unevenly—nervously—and you realize he's comforting you. Regardless of what you decide, you're still his first priority.
You find his hand where it rests, splayed across your stomach, and lace your fingers with his. Just say it. Just tell him, say it back. There'll be plenty of time to show him how much you mean it.
Because they're not just words. They're not even a feeling. Love is a promise, and you'll keep it.
Taking a steadying breath, you turn in his arms and pull him down on top of you. It's the first time you've seen his face since he got home and wrestled you onto your hands and knees, all searing touches and deep, frantic thrusts. Since he told you he loves you.
His eyes meet yours, darting from one to the other, desperate for an answer, but yours, instead, follow the freckles across his nose down to the curve of his cupid's bow. There is so, so much to love about Mike Schmidt, and he deserves to know it.
"Of course, I love you," you promise, tilting your chin up so your bottom lip just grazes his top.
His face lights up with an unrestrained smile you see so rarely, the one reserved only for you and Abby on his happiest days. You lean forward to kiss him, softly and open-mouthed, and he inhales sharply, his hands shooting down to your waist.
His grip is a little too tight, and you think maybe he's scared you'll take it back, so you wrap your legs around him to hold him right where he is. Then, the kiss deepens and, when his hands start to roam, you realize what he needs.
Mike has always found solace in you, inside you, whenever he's struggling to express or accept what he's feeling, and right now he's asking for reassurance. Hooking your heels behind his back, you tug his hips into yours, and he groans into your mouth as he slips through his release still dripping from your heat.
He's already hard as a rock and bucking into you as if he didn't fuck you into his mattress less than an hour ago, except this time you can see him. The tension between his brows and in his shoulders visibly loosens, and he exhales a sigh of relief the moment he's buried to the hilt.
Enveloped by your warmth and security, it falls from his lips again, over and over—an increasingly sure declaration as he continuously fills you up and hollows you out.
You repeat it back, and it feels good. It feels so good to love Mike Schmidt.
thanks for reading!
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aineryeo · 3 months
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30 min warm up sketch of Lucifer mirroring Satan's palette ^^
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shadowtriovibes · 11 months
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it's a sign of the times
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3.2K
Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."
the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.
You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.
Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.
You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.
You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).
It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.
“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”
“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.
“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.
You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”
“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”
“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.
“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”
You scoff. Unbelievable.
“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.
You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.
“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.
“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.
Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.
“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”
“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.
“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”
“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.
Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.
Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.
“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”
“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”
You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.
One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910
We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.
Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.
Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.
Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.
“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.
“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”
Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.
“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”
“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.
“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
“What is it?” you breathe.
“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”
The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.
“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”
“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.
Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”
“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”
Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.
“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”
“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”
“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”
But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.
That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.
Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.
“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”
“Who?” Ominis asks.
“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”
“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”
You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.
Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
At once, the three of you freeze.
“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”
“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”
Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.
Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.
Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.
“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”
“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.
“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.
“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”
“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”
You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.
“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”
“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”
“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.
“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”
You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.
“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.
“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”
Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”
“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”
Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”
“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”
Well, that certainly clears things up.
Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.
You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.
“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”
You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.
“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”
“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”
“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”
“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”
“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”
Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.
“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”
Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”
“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”
Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.
“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”
“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”
“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”
You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.
“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”
“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.
“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”
“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”
“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”
Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”
You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.
The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.
You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.
You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.
“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.
“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”
You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”
He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.
“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”
“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”
He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.
Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.
“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”
“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”
You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”
You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”
Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.
“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”
---
[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]
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breadcheese444 · 4 months
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That one meme but make it malleyuu
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lorelune · 7 months
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(minors dni & ageless blogs dni /// inspired by this post and brainworms with @petrichorium)
"dear?" neuvillette asks. you're sprawled out on his chaise lounge, reading today's issue of the steambird. you're distracted.
"yes?"
"what exactly does it mean if you're 'wet'?"
you smile at him sweetly from across his office, "... come again?"
he looks overwhelmingly serious. though he does, occasionally, toss a joke or two into his daily conversations, it's rare. you know the look he wears when he does so. and in this moment? he looks completely sincere.
"if you are wet, the meaning, please. i believe you should know?"
"i-i mean," you laugh. "neuvillette, love, dearest— are you... being entirely serious?"
"yes."
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"ah, alright." your lover is the current incarnation of the hydro draconic primordial, but regardless. "to be damp. moist. covered in liquid, probably water?"
neuvillette brow scrunches. then relaxes after a moment and he shakes his head. the soft, curved horns that curl into his hair tremble with the motion. he smiles and shakes his head, shutting the book he'd be paging through. you catch a glimpse of the cover and— oh.
everything comes together.
"A Seaman's Conquest: The River's Maiden and Jewel" is the latest erotic novel by the quietly-famed 'Épée Honnête'. you recognized the cheesy art on the novel, and the flourishing text. you've read one or two of the author's works, but in the quiet and private of your own home. stashed atop each other in your nightstand, with a seldom-used vial soft oil. their prose is a... bit over the top. but they're also a sensation.
you have to wonder how and why neuvillette, of all people, is reading the book (and by your brief look, seems to be about half-way through it.) it is not the kind of thing he'd pick up himself— you've never seen neuvillette reading anything other than case files and evidence prior. yet apparently he's been ripping into erotica. right under your nose.
which explains his question.
"o-oh!" you swallow. "you mean wet like—"
"yes."
you squeeze your thighs together.
much to your initial surprise, neuvillette had incredibly limited experience when it came to bodily pleasure. intimacy in and of itself is something that he clearly yearns for, but perhaps does not know how to convey. you're not sure if neuvillette, in all his stature, could ever truly be bumbling, but he gets close to it with physicality.
he's careful. an incredibly fast learner but bent on taking his time, being thorough— meaning that most of your physical encounters are kissing under both of your lips are bruised and slick. you know that neuvillette feels aroused in those moments; the hard press of his clothed cock nudged up to you is proof of it. and you're turned on in those moments— horribly. you've soaked through your panties on more than one occasion. he makes you so— wet.
"wet is like... female arousal." you say simply, steeling yourself. you'll jump him otherwise.
"it this makes you... wet? is this like perspiration?"
"no, no. not at all. not really." you shake your head with a laugh. "it's like. slick? f-from my insides. it's lubrication for intercourse, to be entirely clinical about it."
"... but it's indicative of arousal?"
"entirely." you nod, trying to focus on the case file in front of you. your eyes have skimmed the same line three times.
neuvillette pauses and your hear a flutter of pages before his 'A Seaman's Conquest' closes once more, "have i made you wet before?"
you swallow. get ahold of yourself.
"yes. frequently."
"hm." neuvillette hums and his chair creaks as he sits back. he picks up his silver goblet and swirls it. the gem on it's side refracts the warm glow of the office light, dragging your gaze to his.
he's looking at you— hungry. perhaps something else. something insatiable.
"i want to know more." he tells you. rises. walk toward you with the defined click of his heeled boots on the hardwood fo the floor. "i feel as if i was missing something important without this knowledge. and there's more to be understood."
"well, ask away. i'm an open book." you tell him, craning your neck to meet his eyes.
"may i make a request?"
"of course."
"i..." neuvillette swallows around his words. you drag him onto the lounge with you and lean into his shoulder. moral support and all.
"it's fine if you don't know quite what to ask. or what you want." you assure him. you'll eat up anything he gives you, really.
"i know exactly what i want, it's a matter of phrasing."
"oh, yeah?" you wonder if he's nervous about you not understanding his desires. or if he's worried about being too blunt or forward.
you tilt your head back until neuvillette coaxes you down into his lap. his hand, gloved hand, smooths down your jaw. his fingertips trail down your neck, pressing into your curves and divots. bones and flesh alike. it's exploratory.
neuvillette touch slips down your collar, to bare skin. you shudder. "i'm curious."
"y-yeah? seems like you are."
he laughs, gentle and under his breath. his palm cups your cheek, soothing and kind. with a tilt of his head:
"i'd like to make you wet with my touch, and then taste you."
he says it hushed; it's just meant for you and you alone to hear. the intention of it makes you feel crazy, out of your skin. the look he's pinning you with. the ability he wields while being entirely sincere is going to undo you.
you swallow, a little sound sticking in the back of your throat. you squeeze your thighs together and close your eyes, "neuvillette, you're killing me here."
"am i?" there's a hint of a tease in his voice. you want to coax out more of it. you try and bury your face in his hip, but he doesn’t let you. he drag your chin straight and holds his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip.
"yes, y-you are." you mean to sound firm about it. but it comes out as a whine.
"so precious." he says softly, adoring. his thumb presses in into your mouth and runs along your teeth, into your gums. "would you like if i tasted you too?"
"fuck, neuvillette—" your words get muffled as his fingers press into your mouth further. he presses down on your tongue, the scent of clean leather and his gentle personal cologne almost suffocate it. you welcome it.
"is that a yes?"
you try to reply, but your words don't come out— his fault— so you only nod. perhaps too enthusiastically, but neuvillette doesn't seem to mind. his lips curl into a gentle smile, and he strokes over your cheeks. his only hand trails lower, finding home on your inner thigh.
"are you wet now?"
"'pworably—"
"cute." he says again. he still looks hungry. like he's going to eat you alive. there's an appetite in him, even if he doesn't know what it fully is or what to do with it. it seems, it really seems, like he's learning it. "may i find out—?"
"Monsieur Neuvillette!" The sharp crack of knocking on the door interrupts him as he leers over you. It's Laith, on the Seven— "the court time is within a half hour. do you require an escort?"
his grip on your thigh tightens. almost to point of hurting, but in the best way. you know you're wet now.
"no, laith, i will be alright on my own. i will be departing shortly."
"the prosecution's attorney sent over some last minute evidence files and requested i deliver them as well." the knob of the door starts to shift and you almost bolt up and away. neuvillette places his spit-covered hand on your chest to brace you down.
"i do not require the documents at this time. have them prepared for me at the opera epiclese."
the knob slips back into place, "of course, Monsieur. i'll see that they're delivered."
steps echo away from the door and you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, "awful timing."
"unfortunate." neuvillette sighs. "truly unfortunate."
his duty is paramount. you know this as he helps you to stand and as he straightens your close. he's being more dutiful about it than he could be, given his next court time is so close. you relish it.
"... are you wet?"
"right now?" you feel sticky in a way that's a bit cold now. you press your forehead to his lips in a quiet beg for a steadying kiss. he relents easily and gives it to you. "yes. you have that effect on me."
neuvillette takes a steadying breath and squeezes around your shoulders, "i apologize for the timing of things, but—"
"i know." you tell him. "it's okay. besides, i have fingers and some toys at home. you've given me new material to work with."
"... you think about me when you're pleasuring yourself?" he blinks at you, eyes wide. you can't help but smirk.
"consistently." you nod and beam at him. "often. basically every time. i haven't even seen your cock but my mind's eye has come up with some creative theories and visual concepts."
that gets him to blush, a high, pearly pink that's almost purple. it fades into his hairline.
"this is going to be a particularly difficult court session."
"i can only imagine. is it my fault?"
"only partially." neuvillette assures you with no bite. "perhaps blame wriothesley for that book he lent me. he insisted i read it and get back to him for a review."
"huh."
you could lose it. really. wriothesley is a bastard. you should punch him. or kiss him— except you've grown from those days and you haven't seen that busted-lip smile of his in years. nice to know he's still doing you favors. you should send him an edible arrangement.
"and myself, too. thoughts to entertain at home, and not at the office."
"perhaps, perhaps." you tell him. you don't mind. you brush your lips to his cheek.
"would you visit me, after court?" who knows when that will be. you don't really care. you have a key, afterall.
"of course." you'll have tea prepared. perhaps sex education flashcards. maybe. or you'll break out the lacey slip that's been seldom-touched since purchase and surprise him. who knows. the world's your oyster.
and as you walk with neuvillette out of the palais mermonia and see him off on one of the aquabuses, you catch it in him again. in the almost-longing gaze he sends you as he departs, you see it. something awakening. old and new all at once in him. directed at you. he's famished. or, perhaps—
thirsty.
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valleynix · 1 year
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How would you think a boss battle with reader and lunatic would go if they were canon in the re8 universe? I’d shit my pants if I was Ethan 😭
OH BOY-
i think i’ve mentioned before that Reader/Lunatic would be stalker-type enemies; like, you think you see someone on the edge of your vision, only for them to be gone when you actually turn your head to face them
i think Reader would likely stalk him in the cellar, just watching his every move, maybe occasionally knocking something over because they can’t see perfectly in the dark
i don’t think they would mutate until they know he’s a threat, be it by trying to attack them or by stumbling across the crystallized corpse of one of their beloveds
if the latter was the case, the man wouldn’t make it out alive
even so, just imagine walking through the darkened castle, unsure of where anyone is but feeling like you’re being watched, just unable to actually SEE anyone. you might catch glimpses of a dark silhouette watching you nearby with glowing eyes, but they’re gone in a moment’s notice
assuming Ethan had to battle them, i’d say it would take place in one of the bigger areas of the castle, or perhaps through several of them. maybe it would start out in the foyer and progress to the courtyard if they chase him?
it would be incredibly difficult to kill them, though, and i think he would really only be able to find a way to force them to leave and regenerate rather than actually take them out for good
let’s say he starts shooting because this strange person approaches him and asks if he’s a threat. they’re just curious, but he doesn’t have time for this. he shoots, hits them, but they don’t… move? they barely even act like he’d done anything, but he SEES the blood dripping from the wound
“oh, that’s no good,” they mumble as they lightly touch the blood, bringing their hand back to stare at it. “they won’t like that.”
he obviously doesn’t understand. he tries to, sure, tries asking them questions, maybe even tries to apologize for shooting them, but then he sees them lift the red collar of the woman who he’s killed in the kitchens
he’s fucked, plain and simple
i think their wings would start to come out as they monologue and perhaps circle him, oh so casual despite the wound likely in their chest. they tell him a bit about themself, tell him his daughter is not there, and gives him one last chance to leave
he doesn’t, of course. he can’t trust someone that’s so similar to her
they understand, but then they… apologize? they tell him he should have taken their offer
and that’s when he would see another, much taller version of this strange person appear from nothing. they move to stand behind the first, grinning, and that is when the battle starts
(he wouldn’t win, of course. Reader would let Lunatic have their fun for a bit before reversing time and stopping him before he kills anyone, but they may take pity on him and try to convince him to leave. i personally think they would kill him after they reverse :3)
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ymechi · 6 months
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The hidden creator
I had a plot bunny idea
TW: usual cult stuff, hints of yandere
-gn reader (I tried making it gender-neutral if there is a comment that is off please tell me and I will fix it)
EDIT: 14/11/2023 (changed some wording and other stuff nothing major)
Creator Reader Pov:
-You were just a regular person who one day woke up in Teyvat out of all places
-You realized you still had all your game features and figured it was one of the perks of being isekaied like in other isekai stories
-The whole thing is weird and why you were here, you had no idea
-After the novelty wears off you take some time mourning the loss of your previous life and the people you knew
-After that you try to get a semblance of a normal life like getting a job and trying to be independent
-Despite having a game system you do not want to be an adventurer or learn how to fight it's not for you
-You were previously an average civilian and raised as one it would be hard to become a fighter now
-Instead you gravitated towards creating things, you found an apprentice position in a clockwork shop in Fontaine
-It is fun and you get to tinker with gears and clocks, learning how various machines work and how to create your own items
-overall you are content
-Except weird people occasionally come by the shop you work at including the Iudex of Fontaine which had both you and the shopkeeper sweating the first few times
-Yet the man who insisted you call him by his name Neuvilette is really polite and nice to talk to, soon you warmed up to him
-You could not help the feeling as if you knew him from before, as if you forgot something, you were unusually fond of him.
-Your other "clients" if you could call them that were more intimidating, you had no idea what they were doing in this shop and it scared you
-The Fatui Harbringers occasionally stopped by the shop to buy a trinket or two before leaving, it honestly scared you and the thaught of running away to another nation had crossed your mind once or twice yet you liked your job and your boss and you made some good friends here so it was hard to leave
-Overall you were doing okay
-Except it seems the people here almost in a cult-like manner worship a creator that was never in the game lore
-It is said they resided in Celestia and not many people actually got to see them, not that it mattered for a nobody like you
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Tsaritsa Pov:
-The Tsaritsa knew their so called creator was fake
-She knew she had to get rid of the fake creator as they and Celestia had caused irreparable damage
-Even if she had to stain her hands
-One day it happened something shifted in the earth, air, water- no the whole of Teyvat
-It happened so softly like a small snowflake landing on the ground
-She was hypnotized as if a siren was beckoning her she found you.
-You were their true creator
-You were wearing apprenticeship clothes tinkering with something in your hands and deeply concentrated
-She wondered if that is how you created the universe with careful and steady hands guiding and shaping it to your will.
-She wanted to take you away from this. . . small shop, yet she knew begrudgingly you were safe here, if anyone were to find out a sliver of your existence. . .
-You were safer hidden among mortals
-It left a bitter taste in her mouth
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Neuvilette Pov
-It just happened one day, out of the blue, he could feel it in the shift of the waters
-The way Furina shifted and turned her head unable to sit still confirmed he was not the only one feeling this
-Something happened and he had no idea what exactly happened
-There was this familiar presence this comforting feeling, ancient old instincts waking up
-He followed it without thought until he came upon an in inconspicuous clockwork shop
-He was confused but did not hesitate to step inside
-Then he saw you and everything clicked
-It was you his creator his universe his everything
-You were back
-It seems in this incarnation you were just a human
-That was fine he was oaky with that as long as you were here
-His heart ached seeing you
-He wanted to hug and ask you to never leave again to always stay by his side, for you to comfort him after what had happened and console him
-He should take you way somewhere safer somewhere better not here-
-But weren't you safer hiding among mortals, a part of his mind whispered, no one would suspect you being here even the fake (he cursed them) would not think of finding you here, if he brought you back with him it would create more attention on you
-Attention that would cause you trouble
-He left with defeat on his steps
-It was later he would met the Tsaritsa and a deal was struck
-All for your sake
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i'm suddenly thinking about rockstar!eddie shooting a music video on some naval ship and meeting actual sailor!steve who's all dressed up in his whites 'cause eddie's a big name star and the captain said everyone had to look their best and eddie immediately folding for the pretty guy in uniform
just: eddie wanting a couple of the guys to act in the video 'cause hopefully then they'd actually know what they're doing, and asking the capt to point out his most competent sailor. the capt immediately points out one of his low-ranking ensigns (like, brand new baby officer 'cause that's the kinda shit an officer would pull) and eddie, having been raised by wayne (who i'm hc-ing as a navy vet) knows better and is immediately like "No sir, I said your most competent, not your least. someone point me to THE second class. Where's he? I need an enlisted guy." and a higher-ranking chief that's been following the band around the ship all day bellows out a laugh and says "You're gonna want Harrington, Mr. Munson."
idk idk, it's niche but for some reason my mind went into the cold clammy depths of my time in the navy this morning and i was like 'NOPE! don't wanna dwell here, make it fun! make it about the blorbos so you dont get sad!!' lmao
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Text
[MC playing chess for the first time]
MC, with Rook in hand :
Lucifer, watching you decide where to put the Rook with amusement :
Lucifer, teasingly : Are you sure you want to put your Rook there?
MC, embarrassed : !
Lucifer : I mean, what a cute little castle that is!
MC, pouting : You promised you wouldn’t make fun of meee!
Lucifer : My apologies, butterfly. You just looked too cute not to *laughs*
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nomazee · 21 days
Text
“This is unnecessary.”
At Blade’s snide comment, you pull sharply at the strands of his hair in your hands. He grunts in displeasure before obediently quieting down, only a little scared of you scalping him if he annoys you any further. 
Perched behind him on the couch while he sits on the floor, your hands find themselves coming through his hair (long, smooth, untangled despite the fact that you’ve never seen him take a brush to it). Your efforts to part his hair with just your fingers are fruitless. His hair is thick on the top, so much so that you’re surprised his neck doesn’t constantly ache with the weight of it. Your hands pause, resting on the top of his head while you try and figure out how you’ll style it. 
“Be nice,” you warn, two hands on the sides of his head tilting it from side to side, treating him as a foam mannequin on which you can project your very thorough cosmetology skills. “Your fate is quite literally in my hands. I could knock you out and shave you bald very easily.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he says earnestly, and you can’t help the way your lips twinge into a smile. “This is clearly a hassle. My hair looks fine the way it is.”
“It does,” you admit, “but wouldn’t it be nice to try something new? And at no cost to you, aside from mild scalp pain. I’m good at hair. I did Kafka’s that one time.” You fail to mention that it was only one time for good reason. Kafka said that you handle hair the same way a lobster would handle a violin—that is, with clumsy hands and a clear lack of refinement. She had to hide every pair of scissors from you in fear that you'd give Silver Wolf microbangs.
As if on cue, your fingers get caught in an unexpected snag in Blade’s hair, and you pull and tug and yank as if expecting it to untangle on its own. Blade hisses and reaches a hand back to smack you on the wrist, turning around to glare at you. 
“Watch it,” he orders, gentle but firm. There’s not enough heat in his words to scare you, and his eyes are a particularly beautiful shade of copper in the dim, flickering light of this dingy lounge room. Whatever you say, beautiful, you think to yourself hysterically. 
After a few half-willed apologies from you and some nudges of encouragement, Blade finally relaxes enough to turn back around and tilt his head back in your lap, letting your fingers play with his hair nonsensically. A braid, you decide, would look quite nice on him. One long one down the back. If you had ribbon, you’d use some to tie his hair, but all you have is one of Kafka’s tragically thin hair ties. 
“It’s a nice color,” you comment absentmindedly, pretending that you can’t see the way Blade’s eyes have shut in contentment at your gentle prodding. “It changes in the light a little bit. It looks very blue now, but I’ve always thought it was black.” You section his hair off into three pieces, loosely laying one over the other over and over again. The aged gold ornament still hangs securely in his hair, and you don’t do anything to move it. It suits him. 
“It’s natural, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he tells you, the slightest twinge of a joke in his voice. It plays at your smile and at your heart, too. 
“You say that now, but you’ll be scrambling to come up with a lie when I find box dye in your bag.” 
He only hums in response, reluctantly enjoying the feeling of your hands on him—they’re gentle, and you can imagine he’s not quite used to this. It’s an addictive feeling, to have him at your mercy, even with just your hands in his hair. There’s trust, unspoken, lingering warmly in the air and settling like condensation on your skin. You could very easily do a number of things that would hurt Blade—kill him, almost. You’ve only ever thought of it a few times, and those were all a very long time ago. 
You don’t think of it that often anymore. All you’re paying attention to is Blade and the splitting ends of his hair and how nice he’d look with a red ribbon tied in. 
“We should go shopping,” you tell him, voice close to a whisper now. You’ve secured the end of his braid already, and your handiwork is admirable. The strands are neatly crossed over each other, uniform in size with each other as they taper down into the end. “Some clips for you would be nice.” Absentmindedly, you comb through the layers of hair near his face, digging your fingers gently into the sides of his face and scratching at his scalp. 
“And where exactly would we go shopping? We’re not exactly upstanding members of society in some people’s eyes.” 
“Then I’ll make clips for you,” you say, a naive kind of dedication in your tone. “I used to work with metal, a little bit. I could make jewelry. Ornaments for your hair. I’ll put a ribbon in next time.” 
“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” Blade asks doubtfully, in steep contrast with the way he lets your hands roam along his scalp, and the way his head leans back into you as if he’s comfortable. 
“You’re a loyal customer,” you quip, “you’d never let somebody else do your hair when you have me as a dedicated stylist.” 
“I’m your only customer.” 
“I know,” and in a moment of weakness—because at the end of the day that’s what you are, weak, malleable and moveable when you’re with Blade like this—you lean down just a little bit, pressing a stupid clumsy kiss on the crown of his head. Your fingers trail down to trace the bumps of the braid, the divots and grooves in it, made by your hands, and yours alone. “That just means I can put all my effort towards you alone.” 
“You shouldn’t.” And he means it when he says that, and it hurts you, puts a sickly pang in your chest that you want to reach for and tear out before it grows into something worse. 
“But I will,” you tell him. Blade is stubborn, but not stubborn enough to keep it up. Not now, not here, not when the overhead lights are flickering and making his hair look just a little bluer, illuminating the warmer ends of his hair, glinting off the metal ornament still clipped into it. He rests between your hands, still sitting on the cold floor, pretending that he isn’t falling asleep with you like the fool he secretly is.
—°+..。*゚。*゚+.*.。.—
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