#smoking old toby
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thorin: ugh elf food
thranduil: hmph. dwarf food
bilbo: well, in the shire, we call it food and we eat it
bard: yeah no kidding
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Bagginshield Firefly Day
My contribution
#the hobbit#thorin oakenshield#bilbo baggins#my art#bagginshield#fanart#art#the hobbit fanart#bagginshield fanart#bagginshield firefly day#smoking old toby
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LotR trilogy rewatch but we smoke whenever the characters do
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For your ticciwork, who fell for who first? And when did they realize they were in love with each other?
in my mind they both mutually start falling for eachother after being around eachother for awhile, but Nats the first person to realize that the feelings are incredibly romantic which kinda sends her spiraling. on the other hand toby is generally oblivious for awhile about it but really just knows that he wants to see her happy. (or exasperated. even annoyed honestly he just wants her to interact with him)
#while crushing like crazy on toby natalie imagines him with those cutesy sparkly love filters and hearts all around him#like girl he does NOT look like that he is covered in mud and old blood and tree sap and smells like smoke and weed. but you do you#ticciwork#creepypasta ticci toby#clockwork creepypasta#creepypasta redesign#creepypasta#fanart#ticci toby x clockwork#natalie ouellette#toby erin rodgers#kicking my feet and giggling they’re so cute
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texas hold'em
#i love her your honor#mine#cards#poker#smoking#old toby#lord of the rings#pipe#tobacco pipe#weed#summer#this is a weed account now#420
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Toby a été Pimpé ! Vous aussi comme @tummyandgummy faites vous offrir un portrait de votre animal de compagnie sur www.rudyem.fr Créer par Rudyem Graphiste Animalier chez Pimppets Company #smoke #pimp #graphisme #portrait #cadeau #toby #cat #gift #graphiste #chat #graphism #montage #rudyem #animaux #animals #oldcat #cigarette #humor #old #smoking #tobacco #tabac #catphotography #catsofinstagram #catlife #oldcatsofinstagram #edsanimals #catoftheday #instacat #sed https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn2HZ0Zth-4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#smoke#pimp#graphisme#portrait#cadeau#toby#cat#gift#graphiste#chat#graphism#montage#rudyem#animaux#animals#oldcat#cigarette#humor#old#smoking#tobacco#tabac#catphotography#catsofinstagram#catlife#oldcatsofinstagram#edsanimals#catoftheday#instacat#sed
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I saw a bunch of amazing witch/wizard hat but it's styled as a giant mushroom and I think Bilbo would give it to Gandalf as a nice gift (Post ID below!)
[ID: a digital coloured comic of galdalf and a middle-aged bilbo, smoking together. bilbo looks up at gandalf and says, “Gandalf, old friend, I have something for you!”
galdalf replies, “I don’t recall telling you my birthday, Bilbo.”
on the next panel, bilbo, holding a box with a bow, says, “Ta-da!” he’s grinning widely with his eyes closed.
gandalf, now also smiling with his eyes closed, asks, “My dear Bilbo! Is it more of your Old Toby!”
bilbo replies, “Even better! Go on. Open it.”
on the last panel, gandalf is wearing a hat that resembles a giant red and white mushroom. there are sparkles on either side of him. he says, “What a lovely hat. Well, how do I look?”
bilbo replies, with emphasis, “Splendid!” /end ID]
#the hobbit#bilbo baggins#gandalf the grey#gandalf#lotr#they are besties for life#go search up mushroom witch hat and you'll find the most beautiful hats TvT#my art
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General creepypasta headcannons!
Ft: Jeff the killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Dr Smiley, Puppeteer, Bloody Painter, Masky, Hoodie, laughing Jack, Jason the toymaker, Homicidal Liu and Eyeless Jack
Warning: these are not romantic! These are general personality trait headcannons. Also, a lot of the pastas are good friends with Ben. Mentions of weed and alcohol.
Also I’m using my AU where the creepypastas only kill r8pists and Peds (I’ll just call it the vigilant AU.)
I’m also working on a micheal afton smut rn, so y’all will get that soon.
Jeff the killer
-The worst person to drink with, he’s absolutely ruthless when drunk. (Angry, annoying or horny, you don’t roll the dice. He does)
-has a vintage tea set that was Liu’s (he stole it when he turned)
-he’s the most brutal and crude creepypasta, but whenever he’s mad he’s really fuckin mad.
-Ohioan tbh
-IAED (intermittent Anger Explosive Disorder)
-I feel like when he’s not having an episode he’s pretty likable (he’s probably accidentally one of the funniest creeps)
-this fucker definitely talks to himself, I feel like he might also have OCD.
-pop not soda
-his mouth slits are not that prominent (like food doesn’t fall out of his mouth) and he has his eyelids
-his skin isn’t smooth??? Mf was literally burned, he’s covered with a lot of old slightly healed burn scars.
-his hair care is better because of Ben.
-getting Jeff and Masky pissed off at the same time they will angrily tag team you (not sexually… maybe sometimes.)
-Jeff is very romantically detached and romantically stupid. Like he doesn’t really get attraction that much and when he does he doesn’t know what to do about it.
Ben Drowned
-vapes just a little (blue raz)
-weirdly responsible over the rest of the creeps (hygiene wise, he’s very meticulous) he’s the weed dealer of the house, his room in the attic is the major “fuck-it-up-and-party” Room
-not that angry of a person, very lax and chill.
-the funnest creeps to smoke the greens with. He’s fr just so chill (he’s also very funny too, trust me he’s fun AF)
-Ben is the funniest pasta, but only because of his pathetic-ness. Like he makes a lot of cheesy jokes and rhymes, it makes the other pastas laugh because most the time he doesn’t intend it to be funny.
-chronic mimicker, like it’s bad. If anyone else talks or says a word slightly different suddenly it’s the only word he’ll say for a month straight.
-his eyes are constantly bleeding and it pisses him off
-human eyes are brown and his skin is slightly tan.
-he’s very horny all the time but with no release. He doesn’t crush on the pasta girls, nor does he watch porn. This mf writes his own personal fanfiction in a diary (that the creeps stole one night while drunk and read)
-he’s honestly one of the cleanest creepypastas. (And probably the most popular for them all, at least. He’s friends with everyone.)
-ADD nightmare and screamo music daydream.
-I feel like if he sang he’d sound like that one song ‘King for a Day’
Toby
-he’s a little dickhead, but relatively lovable. It’s just cause he’s cheeky and devilish.
-doesn’t smoke weed or drink.
-he’s very jealous of Liu and Jeff since because of his sisters death. He wishes that like Liu, his sister would arrive one day somewhat alive. (It never happens)
-ADHD and bipolar nightmare, has a slender therapist lmao.
-Toby doesn’t like Jeff that much for trying to kill Liu. Liu and Toby are friends because Liu reminds him of Lyra (his sister)
-Toby is also somewhat close with the women of the mansion rather then the men. He’s good friends with both Judge Angels and Jane. Clockwork and him aren’t close anymore as she went off on her own.
-he’s a really deep thinker, and surprisingly sentimental. Though not for his victims. Toby is harsh whenever he feels like it.
-he’s a relatively quiet person. He’s good friends with Ben and EJ. Toby also has a slow reaction to danger, he’s the least likely in the group to get scared by something.
-Toby had to get a slender therapist because of his last manic episode (he made up “creepypasta” while accidentally high one night on Ben’s computer in 2010 and the pastas haven’t trusted him with tech since.)
-he wanted to become a writer growing up.
Dr Smiley
-originally, I feel like Dr Smiley wanted to do good for people. I feel like he wanted to be a politician until he forcefully remembered how people are. He’s also really bad at medical stuff, go to EJ for that, not smiley.
-awful trust issues, he doesn’t trust a soul. Ironically, Smiley is one of the most social pastas. Reverse psychology babe.
-smiley is good at a lot of things, this man’s a fuckin prodigy.
-one of the first creepypastas to join the gang. Also one of the most polite.
-he’s really classy and only ever accidentally taken an edible (never again). Smiley trips out hard whenever high, it’s almost concerning.
-definitely has a small garden for herbs. He’s either seen killing, out in the garden, or in his medical room.
-a lot of the pastas are convinced smiley doesn’t sleep (no one has ever seen it, though Ben did capture one singular photo as proof and that is it)
-dr smiley is always left in charge whenever Slender has meetings (he only has to approve missions sent by the pastas.)
-as much as smiley is a prodigy, he’s awful in the kitchen. It’s kind of sad.
Puppeteer
-smooth, might as well call this fucker MJ.
-he always wins in arguments bc he’s so sly. Sort of a kleptomaniac and will gaslight you.
-called pup by most (not like a dog)
-always has his business in other peoples faces, but unlike Ben, he doesn’t get away with it.
-Puppet laughs a lot but doesn’t really talk. he’s also pretty good friends with Jane and Helen.
-one of the least organized pastas. His room is really messy and so is he. He cleans up after himself, but don’t go into his room.
-Major Depressive Disorder
-him and hoodie always get A+ on their duo assignments. Though the two of them aren’t that close, they’re hella good at working together.
-puppeteer isn’t classy at all. He drinks as soon as he wakes up, but in a Fiona Gallagher way.
-definitely watches Shameless. His top show rn. Binged the entirety in 3 days. Didn’t sleep whatsoever. (His fave character is V bc she’s hot)
Bloody Painter
-LOVES Hozier. Like actively buys tickets for his shows. Either hozier or The Hush Sound.
-the most visual mf you’ll ever meet. If he’s real comfortable he’d ramble for super fucking long (and gets annoyed when someone gets bored or questions him.)
-work first, people last. Helen really just focused on the next step in front rather than the whole timeline.
-beat the shit out of Toby for the accident of 2010. Though the two made up.
-mentally I think he’s…. Alright??? He’s one of those disturbingly quiet people, very hard to read. Though, turns out he’s just mute. Also has OCD
-he has a problem trusting himself and his thoughts (as most ppl with OCD do)
-very unhealed, Helen is very raw. Like his wounds are barely closed. Sometimes Helen is able to relax though and that’s only when he’s alone or possibly with Puppeteer.
-Helen makes sure he has no bad blood between any pasta. He’s worried hoodie doesn’t like him, though.
Masky
-staring problem, huge staring problem. resting bitch face too. Truthfully he’s never really annoyed much.
-insomniac with a touch of depression. He’s always super tired. Chronic eyebag haver.
-probably has thin silver glasses.
-loves sugary coffee and tea. Drinks basic white girl drinks 100%
-really good friends with Eyeless Jack and often helps him get more medical supplies.
-dare I say slight accent??? Not rlly an accent, but sounds like he’s from Tennessee. His moms def from New Jersey tho.
-Jewish heritage. He also watches a LOT of Rick and Morty with Ben.
-buys his weed from Ben to relax. He was forced to stop smoking by Hoodie and Sally. Weed is the next best thing.
-he’s really good at voice impressions but almost never does them unless he’s with Sally or Lazari.
-Masky is very depressed and unmotivated, so Puppeteer is usually around him a lot. Not that either of them care much.
Hoodie
-he’s literally mute. Also believe that he’s short too. Like 5’7.
-watches attack on Titan, his favorite character is Miche and Armin. Besides that, he doesn’t watch much anime.
-his room is covered in posters.
-Slendermans favorite, second to Dr Smiley.
-he loves 80’s music. The puppeteer does too, they listen together sometimes on missions.
-in love with Diet Pepsi and cool ranch Doritos.
-knows how to knit (don’t ask.) (he got high with Ben one time)
-come to think of it, everyone has went borderline insane smoking with Ben before. Hoodie has a picture book filled with their embarrassing high moments.
-hoodies room has a lot of spare notebooks and picture books. Don’t know why. All of them are individually organized. If you looked through them you’d go insane tho.
-worst handwriting in the entire mansion.
Laughing Jack
-he has a grudge against all cheeses. Like he fucking HATES cheese. Especially blue cheese.
-worst diet of the pastas. He eats like a 6 year old mixed with the Elf. Everything to him has to be sweet, if not then it has to be crunchy. Like chicken tenders, he can eat those, but that’s about it.
-secret genius because everyone thinks he’s stupid (when he’s really the instigator) the only person who’s caught onto this is Ben, but no one believes Ben.
-constantly humming.
-he hates TV and phones but likes music. Though if you put on bubble guppies or some shit, his brain would probably shut down.
-he’s constantly eating the floor, this mf is so clumsy.
-Jack riots a lot and starts plenty of petitions. Like when slender tried implementing a dinner time schedule, he petitioned for it to be gone because he didn’t want pasta. That one chipped at Slender’s nonexistent heart.
-he’s rebellious in nature and very horny. He’s constantly doing the most, very over the top whenever he likes someone.
-he hates Japanese horror films
Jason the toymaker
-he doesn’t turn his assignments into doll’s because they don’t deserve a second chance at life. Jason is one of the only pastas that kill normal people. The normal people are tortured and turned into dolls, his assignments are tortured and left to rot.
-Jason has an eye for fashion and has sewn a bunch of dresses for Sally. He also has a very high pitched giggle.
-tbh Jason listens to Kesha 100% it just scratches the spot
-he’s almost a horder. More than once did Slender have to expand Jason’s toy shop.
-hates all animals, there is not a single animal that he likes. (Though somehow, smiledog really likes him.) (Jason hates him but doesn’t harm him)
-he’s honestly such a priss, like fr. He’s always gossiping os judging. It’s funny though.
-he doesn’t really like much of the pastas. He likes Ben and sometimes LJ is cool, but aside from that he just doesn’t care about the rest much.
-he absolutely fucks up thin mints and raisin cookies. His fave food is probably a cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese tho tbh
Homicidal Liu
-Liu doesn’t really remember Jeff, but Sully does.
- Liu’s other systems are named Ajax and Diane, both of which are female.
-he really likes keeping up on YouTube drama and actively prays on downfalls.
-Liu’s best friend is definitely Toby or Zero. Aside from that he’s really closed off, he admires Slender too.
-Dissociative Identity Disorder.
-he definitely almost got on Zalgo’s side, but something (he doesn’t know what) pulled him to Slender more.
-least picky out of the creeps. He can stomach basically everything.
-he was one of those kids that had chronic ear infections, Liu constantly would have cotton balls in his ears Bc of this 😭
-Liu gets sick really easily, his immune system is NOT happy. Prob because he really likes spicy food but still.
-definitely 100% the best cook out of the pastas (with Ben being the best baker)
-Slendermans third favorite after Dr Smiley and hoodie.
-he’s honestly so homesick, but he doesn’t remember what for. Feels a strange connection to Jeff, but also almost hates him? He’s conflicted.
-serious victim of medical malpractice and medical abuse, he absolutely hates hospitals and anything to do with them.
Eyeless Jack
-used to write music in college before he turned. Also actually really sad about how his life ended.
-he’s good friends with Ben and Masky and surprisingly talkative. I felt like he almost whispers though.
-I also like to think that Jack is very musically inclined and the reason he went to medical school was so he could make bank in the future. His parents definitely didn’t want Jack to be a musician.
-so he can definitely play electric guitar and some piano (he tries and learns everyday)
-really bad at sports and awful sense of direction. He’s always lost. Ben usually has to fetch him once he goes out for missions.
-though I don’t think Jack being lost is all his fault, the path to the mansion changes every three hours and Jack leaves often for kidneys.
-he sees sally as a little sister and does a lot to make her happy.
#creepypasta#eyeless jack#creepypasta smut#ben drowned#dr smiley#homicidal liu#jeff the killer#ticci toby#puppeteer#ben drowned smut#creepypasta headcanon
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🅲🆁🅴🅴🅿🆈🅿🅰🆂🆃🅰 Giving them your number/Asking for theirs ( Ticci Toby)
DISCLAIMERS!!!:
All head-canons well be represented in my writing (Unless paid to do otherwise)
I am very new to writing on tumblr
There will be generally dark themes in my work
I may be willing to do NSFW writing (Warning: I do not have any experience whatsoever) Before you ask, yes I am of age, I’m just a loser
I have not written anything like this in 2 years, please show me mercy
Ticci Toby
You meet him in a gas station on a heavily forested road trying to steal a ramen
A ring from a bell as you push through the doors of the rustic gas station. It was small and humble, most likely due to the secludedness of the place. When you walk in you are greeted by a friendly old man behind the counter. You wave to assure you're not rude and head towards the drink coolers in the back. As you make your way you notice an odd man hunched over, trying to sneak something into his pocket. You slowly approach him and reach out to grab something beside him, as a subtle way of confrontation.
He jumps at the sudden realization of your appearance. He whips his head around, seemingly looking for something. In this action two ramen cups fall from his jacket. He rushes down and frantically goes to pick them up, mumbling and shuddering. You stand there and watch him unravel at the slightest action. He stands up and looks at you covering part of his jaw as if he is injured.
He looked like a homeless man in his early twenties that was riddled with troubles. He wore smoke stained goggles, A jacket that was in ruins, pants that you would only see a mechanic wear, gloves so worn out that they were finger-less and what seemed to be a face covering around his neck. Despite his disheveledness he looked handsome and clean. He had the most ridiculously pretty eyes, like a sad bear. He had a story behind them that you had to know.
In your awe of the pitiful young man, you ask:
“Can I have your number?”
“What, wait… R-really?”
“Yeah”
“OH, of of-course”
His hand rushed to his pockets, padding himself down and pulling out a pen.
“Can I see your arm?”
You reluctantly pull your sleeve up and motion your arm towards him. He sloppily writes his name and number on your arm, licking at his finger and wiping your arm to fix any mistakes.
Either grossed out or flattered that he cares so much to write his name legible.
It reads:
TOBY 000-000-0000!
After writing this he smiles at you. Then frantically makes his way out without the old man noticing him.
You continue on your drink quest, pay and leave.
(NEXT UP BEN DROWNED AND THE BLOODY PAINTER)
#creepypasta#slasher fucker#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x y/n#horror aesthetic#ben drowned x reader#bloodypainter x reader#bloody painter#creepypasta x you#ben drowned#ticci toby#creepypasta art#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby x y/n#ticci toby x you#ben drowned x you#ben drowned x y/n#eyeless jack x reader#eyeless jack#eyelesskiller#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack x y/n#eyeless jack fanart
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MORE jeff hc's!!!!!!
thank u for the love on the last one i love writing these sm ^___^
•can fit like 11 cigarettes in his wide ass mouth at once
•half asian (his mom is chinese)
•his hair is really thin because it never grew back properly after being burned
•hates being wrong more than anything else on the planet. sometimes he knows hes wrong but will NEVER admit it and fight to the death over it
•bpd representation 💯💯💯
•something in my brain tells me he cant die. kind of like a johnny the homicidal maniac situation. he never gets caught and he never dies (he can still get seriously injured but he will always come back when u least expect it)
•always has to be in control of the aux in every vehicle hes in and is so obnoxious when his favorite songs come on
•also yells "I SAW THIS LIVE" every time a band he saw live comes on
•barks at random unsuspecting people through the open passenger window
•always stealing shit off his victims after killing. he has a whole ring collection because of it, and of course he steals wallets for weed money
•also steals from slenderman but you didnt hear that from me
•"saying jeff is a douchebag is like saying the sky is blue." -toby
•kind of guy that takes out his bottled up emotions on everyone around him and then hates himself for it
•wears the same gross outfit all the time. just grabs one of the 3 pairs of crusty skinny jeans from off his floor and of course the musty ass dirty ass torn apart ass hoodie
•smile dog is truly his best friend. he feels like nobody understands him like smile does. he loves taking him for walks in the woods while smoking a cigarette and having deep conversations with him (not that he actually responds but jeff knows smile can understand what hes saying)
•horror movie enthusiast, from obscure fucked up ones to super cheesy ones. he has a whole shelf dedicated to his horror movie collection
•has an addictive personality, which is partially why he has a drug and alcohol abuse problem and struggles with self harm
•rarely goes out in public because hes known to have violent outbursts. he once committed mass murder at a burger king because people were looking at him weird and EJ had to drag him out of there before the cops showed up
•HATES the light he literally duct taped over his windows so the light couldn’t get in (he forgot blackout curtains exist)
•his room smells like pennies, skunk weed, and foot stank
•is actually an incredible artist but acts like hes not. literally everyone loves his work except for him
•secretly loves cartoons. he loves taking bong rips and watching scooby-doo to escape reality :)
•has never had a healthy relationship with anyone in his life, usually just sticks to hookups
•its a miracle this man is still alive considering he survives off gas station snacks and week old sodas that have been sitting on his nightstand
•speaking of he once drank an old dr pepper after he forgot he put out a cigarette in it
•got a tramp stamp when he was blackout wasted
•writes random thoughts and draws little doodles all over his bedroom walls; it kind of looks like a mental asylum in there
•also his bed is literally just a blood stained mattress on the floor with no sheet and a singular pillow and blanket
•so fucking broke he will do anything for a hundred bucks
•writes the most foul hate comments under every post he disagrees with
•he loves video games, his favorite being postal 2 (hes OBSESSED)
#creepypasta#jeff the killer#creepypasta hcs#creepypasta headcanon#jeff the killer hc#jeff the killer headcanons#jeff the killer x reader#jeffrey woods#jeffery woods#jtk headcanons#creepypasta jtk#jtk x reader#jtk#jeff woods#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta fanfic#slenderman#slender mansion#slenderverse#headcanons#headcanon
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what if bofur told bilbo that by dwarrow standards thorin was basically throwing himself at bilbo so bilbo decided to go for it the next day like
thorin: this blackberry pie is outstanding, bilbo
bilbo: maybe you should fuck me then
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You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 1
Full Request
AN: OMGGGG my first request! And it’s an absolute banger too??? I feel like a queen, I truly do.
I know the original request was more about Marvel-based Norse mythology but I’m not a Marvel fan so I went with original Norse mythology! Hope that’s ok!
-Also yes, this is a place where we pretend the Hades-Persephone myth isn’t as messed up as it actually is and is a sweet love story instead, fuck off-
-I know Hestia is supposed to be a virgin goddess and never marry but like… I’m thinking of a cute hearth goddess and how she could love Hephaestus and I want that for them-
Final PS. that corner pic of Toby Stephens doesn't fit the rest of the aesthetic, I know, but I saw it while searching and it had me quivering so I had to add it.
Summary: Zeus and Odin have brought peace to the worlds of the gods. With peace comes love. But all is NOT fair in love and war.
Word count: 6,187
Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.
Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)
It was the dawn of a new era when Kronos was thrown to Tartarus. His evil had touched more than just the world of the Greek gods, sending ripples through the very world of mythology itself. Though the worlds of the Norse and the Grecians were thousands of miles away, their gods had often met on the battlefields. A multitude of stories, now lost to time, told of the wars of snow and sand, told of the loves made and broken between viking idols and spartan gods. But upon the ‘death’ of Kronos, the new king of the gods found himself in a forgiving mood. Odin too, having given up so much for wisdom, realised the best way forward was to have peace in all aspects under his control, once and for all.
The two gods met deep in a forest exactly halfway between what is now Greece and Norway, a forest that eventually became the town of Vlasim in the Czech Republic. No one other than the two kings knows what was said in order for the peace pact to be made, but they left with promises of order, friendship, and an invitation for the Asgardians to visit the stronghold that is Mount Olympus.
When Zeus returned with this news, they all rejoiced and began ensuring Mount Olympus looked better than it ever had before. After all, they still needed to outshine these other supposed “gods”. Hera took charge of ensuring the entire place glowed, already beginning to argue with Demeter on how the flowers would look best. Aphrodite was already picking out her best dresses and sprucing up her hair, Artemis and Apollo hopping off to go hunting for some creature that would show their true prowess to the Asgardians (secretly hoping they would make it back in time). Dionysus was left in charge of the entertainment, though he was quickly focused only on providing wine for the entire table, and Hephaestus and Hestia found comfort in quiet corners of the room, watching all the chaos unfold. Hades had been unbothered, promising he would show up with Persephone when the Asgardians arrived and nothing more before disappearing in a puff of smoke back to the underworld and no doubt the loving arms of his wife. Poseidon was… well he didn’t know how he felt. If he was honest, he was beginning to feel old. Life as a god wasn’t all it was cut out to be, and it had been dragging a bit recently. His millennia of existence were beginning to catch up to him and he wasn’t sure how to jumpstart his enjoyment again. He had even taken to wearing an older form recently, a man still in his prime, but one with the wisdom of a thousand years subtly showing itself in the lines around his eyes and mouth. A man still corded in muscle but with the stockiness, width, and strength of one who had had one hundred lifetimes to hone it. This seemed like exactly the kind of thing he needed to reintroduce excitement to his life. Though Zeus had not included him in the peace talks, he was happy to be part of the governing that came after, to help maintain the peace between the gods. For once he felt he could happily commend his brother for a job well done.
And he was excited to meet these new gods, apprehensive too of course, but… excited. It would be a good opportunity to measure themselves up to the others in their world, to truly decide if they were as invincible as they believed they were. Poseidon believed it was important for the gods to have a wake-up call every now and again to their fragility, and he was sure this would be one of them.
Across the world, in the realm of Asgard and the halls of Valhalla, ale was poured and songs were sung as the gods rejoiced. Odin sat on his throne high above the others as some danced, some fought, some feasted, and some passed out from too much of everything too soon. Odin watched over them all with one of his rare smiles, a hand resting atop the one Frigg had placed on the arm of his throne. Even Loki, occasional friend, occasional enemy, had joined for this celebration. He was proud of what he had achieved, of the worthy sacrifices he had made, to not only bring him eternal wisdom, but to bring peace between two races of gods. Odin turned to Frigg, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She blushed, turning to him and pressing one on his cheek in return.
“Everything is well?” She asked, caressing his cheek just under the eye he had given up.
“Perfect,” he sighed, then looked back out to the dancefloor where his children now pranced jokingly.
Thor laughed heartily as he began to chug from his mug, froth spilling over the sides of his cheeks as his friends clapped and cheered. Loki even smiled, though he was more caught up in trying to continue his conversation with the little goddess sandwiched between her brother and him. Odin’s youngest child, the newest addition to Asgard, giggled at her brother’s antics and the clever commentary the god of mischief whispered in her ear. She was still young by the standards of the gods, having only seen a thousand sun cycles, and she was treated as such, cherished by all who looked upon the daughter of Odin, the goddess of love, so loved in fact, that Odin had chosen to bestow his own title of god of war onto her. The goddess of love, and war, Y/n Odinsdottir.
You were excited for this trip to Mount Olympus. You had been aware of the Greek gods since your birth but you had not had the opportunity of meeting them in battle. Being only a thousand years old meant you had been coddled for five hundred of them, and though you had been given the title of goddess of war, you still felt you had to earn it. Balancing the powers of love and war was a struggle you were still learning. You had spent the last five hundred years trying to choose the right warriors to bestow your blessing upon, the right vikings to give the power of love (the second being especially difficult as you had only felt familial love thus far). This would be an opportunity to learn from these other gods, to not only enjoy a new era of peace but to build on your own skills.
Odin, Frigg, and Thor enjoyed your excitement, watching with smiles as you pranced about in different dresses wondering which would be the best to wear, brushing out your hair and carefully pinning the dark blue tresses into an updo. Though you often changed the way you looked (shapeshifting came with the job of being a love goddess for all mythologies it seemed), you never changed the blue hair. You had quickly grown fond of it, and the natural movement of hair in that colour reminded you of waves on the ocean, a particular favourite spot of yours. Even past the blue hair, you often wore blue dresses in varying shades, simply because you had come to love the ocean, and thus the colour blue. The other gods often remarked that love was not black nor white, rather it was blue.
On the eve of the grand meeting of the gods, you had sat beside Loki in a stone alcove high above the feast hall of Valhalla, watching the slain heroes rejoice for another evening. Though it was in Loki’s nature to be a trickster, you had come to enjoy his company and often seeked him out when you were bored or nervous. He knew the history of the gods almost as well as Odin, and you enjoyed the way he told his stories with exaggerated voices and dancing movements. You loved learning about all that had happened before you, all the battles the gods had fought, the relationships they had made, long before you were even a thought in Odin’s head. On a night like this, when you had too much energy to just while away the hours, you found Loki and begged him to tell you a story. You were still young, and possibly your power as a love goddess had an influence too, but he found he could never quite say no to you.
“Alright, little goddess, settle in, for tonight I tell you a story of love and perilous heartbreak, a story that involves lovers who should never have met, lovers who had no business being together, and who fate punished for it,” Loki began, eyes sparkling as he gazed deep into your own. You shivered and nodded, excitement and just a hint of fear tickling your spine. You sat back against the stone wall and brought your knees to your chest, resting your chin on top of them and waiting for Loki to begin again.
“So many years ago that neither you nor I were even a thought in the dust, one of the aesir fell in love with a goddess of another land. Though their names and abilities are lost now, we know that the aesir was one of our strongest, almost indestructible. The goddess was special in her own right, among her own people, and these two great clans warred for many centuries. Years and years were spent slaughtering each other’s families, using human battles as their own, bleeding each other dry until there was barely anything left to call them gods.
During one such battle, this aesir had broken through the front lines of the opponents, but was stopped dead in his tracks when he laid eyes upon a beautiful goddess helping to heal what she could. He was enamoured by her, so enamoured that for the first time in any battle he was nicked by an arrow.” Loki paused, seeing the way your eyes widened and began to get teary, and he smiled gently. “Do not worry little goddess, it was only a small cut, and he was able to heal, but the true wound was in his heart. He wanted to find this goddess, to be near her, to love her, and yet every day he had to fight her people, without fail.
One day, he decided to stay back while the others fought, and he snuck over to the other side to try and find his goddess. He disguised himself as a butterfly and fluttered around their camp looking for her. Again, when he found her he was struck dumb by her beauty, and instantly changed into his true form in front of her. She was terrified, and she almost began to yell for help, but he begged her not to. He promised her his life, his very essence as a god, if only she would give him a chance to show her how much he had come to love her. Of course she was apprehensive at first, he was the enemy after all, but she allowed him this.
The aesir took his knife, cut his palm, and dripped his blood onto the ground. With the first drop, he created a new flower and named it Linnea, for her. With the second, he created a flurry of butterflies that would follow after her wherever she would go, do whatever she wished of them. And with the third, he created a thin gold thread. He took one end of the thread and tied it around his wrist before offering the other to her. He said that if she took it, he would bind himself to her, soul to soul. That if she loved him back, they may be separated, but the gold thread would tie them together forever and wherever they may be, they could always follow it back to one another. The goddess, won over by his utter devotion, accepted his offering and promised to love him back until the end of her days.
Each night they separated to their own camps, connected only by the gold thread, and each day while the battles and the war raged on, they would sneak away to far off places to be together and live in a happiness their people couldn’t seem to find. But all was not well for the lovers, for the Norns had spun their threads and knew that the price of their love was one no god could ever pay. And so, one day when the lovers snuck off, a god from this other clan who had been promised this goddess’s hand in marriage decided to follow. He saw this ultimate betrayal and sounded the alarm. Both lovers were dragged back to their camps in shackles, the aesir and the other gods unsure of how to punish them.
The eldest of the aesir knew what must be done. The lovers could never be together, it was simply impossible, and he spoke with the leader of this other clan in a moment of truce. They were both in agreement, and the elder was sent off to complete this task. He ventured to Yggdrasil and found Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld. He had Verðandi remove any memory or thought of the goddess from the aesir’s mind. He had Urðr remove any trace of the goddess from the aesir’s fate. And he had Skuld remove any future with the goddess.
When this was done, the elder returned to the camp and found the god to see if the Norns had worked true. He had no memory of the goddess, and seemed returned as he was to the aesir. On the other side, the same had happened to the goddess with her own fates, any trace of the god removed from her thoughts, memories, fate and future. Everyone thought all was well and normalcy had returned, but both god and goddess felt the eternal tug of a gold thread wrapped around their wrist that no one but them could see. Both attempted to follow it but it seemed to never have an end. They would stand in front of each other, and look straight through the other, never able to see one another again. Forever they were cursed to wonder why they were pulled toward something they could not see, something they would never be able to find.” Loki finished with a sigh, looking at you as you sat curled up against the wall opposite him. You were frowning, tears collected at the corners of your eyes and lip trembling.
“I didn’t like that story,” you mumbled, shaking your head and wiping at your eyes. “What was so wrong with them loving each other?”
“Little goddess, we are terrified of the things we don’t understand. We don’t understand love, we don’t understand why it evades us but not those we hate. We don’t understand why it makes us love those we do not want to love.” Loki began to stand, brushing off his legs and shirt with a shrug.
“Then… then none of you understand me. You are all terrified of me. I am the goddess of love, am I not?” You asked, looking up at him with fearful eyes. But Loki just smiled and patted your head.
“You help us understand love, little goddess. That is why we need you, because without you, we would all be even more lost. Imagine that,” he smirked and chuckled, then walked away, mumbling something about readying for the journey to Olympus.
When the Norse gods began to arrive on Olympus, the Vanir entering first, the gathered horde of Greek gods and goddesses and spirits began to mumble and talk among themselves as they judged the foreigners that now walked among them. The Grecians felt their dressing was superior, their peplos were so white that they would burn the eyes of a human. The gold edging was pure and shined as if it was freshly polished and not thread. The purple cloaks they all donned would bankrupt every village in the human world just to get enough dye to make it look that bright. They were… amused? Intrigued? Maybe even disgusted by the fashion of their guests. They all wore varying shades of red. They had either thin linen garments with animal furs draped across their shoulders and arms, or donned thick tunics of sheepskin and wool pants with leather belts decorated with axes and swords. Both groups were… apprehensive to mingle.
Zeus and Hera sat on their thrones and looked down on their guests, nodding greetings as they watched for Odin and Frigg. Poseidon and Hades sat on their own thrones to the side of their brother. Hades was turned to the side and conversing solely with Persephone who stood just behind his throne, leaning onto it and smiling down at her husband. Poseidon just sat back and watched the gods enter the grand hall, resting his chin on his hand and trying not to yawn with boredom.
The entrance of Odin and Frigg could not be missed. As they crossed the bridge into Mount Olympus, they were surrounded by the Aesir. Odin held Frigg’s hand, both dressed in traditional Viking fashion. Frigg wore a modest woollen strap dress in a shade of red so deep it looked like she had bathed in blood. Her grey eyes were smudged with black on the lids and her hair was braided on both sides and tied back, resting on a black fur stole draped over her shoulders. Odin was dressed completely in black, from his eyepatch to his tunic and sheepskin pants. But his cloak was of the pure white fur of a bear, the edges dragging on the ground behind him.
Thor followed behind his father, dressed as a common viking, but with Mjolnir dangling from his wrist, shiny and almost glowing. Baldr walked beside him, a simple white tunic and black pants comprising his outfit. But it was his hair that was the talk of the audience, so pale and white that it seemed to glow itself. He was a handsome creature, youthful and majestic, with a muscular body and a gentle smile. The muses began to giggle as they watched him walk past.
It was after Thor and Baldr had separated to stand beside their father and mother, that little gasps and whispers began to pervade the air. Behind them had walked Odin’s youngest child, wearing a dress of blue that draped over your body like water. It looked like it had been made of the thinnest netting all gathered and crushed together then draped over your body in the fashion of the Greeks. The fabric was so light near the top that it looked like the very froth of a wave, and darkened as it flared out behind you, the hem almost as black as the deepest trenches of the sea. Like your mother and father, you had draped a fur over your shoulders, hoping to appease your people. You had wanted to blend in with the Greeks, had wanted them to feel respected (you were entering their home after all) but you still wanted to look like a viking.
The Aesir walked forward as Zeus stood from his throne, followed slowly by his brothers and Hera. He smiled at the approaching group, waiting until they were just in front of the thrones before speaking.
“Welcome, all, to Mount Olympus,” his voice boomed, and a small flutter of claps sounded from around the crowd. “Thank you for joining us, and for ensuring peace between our peoples for the rest of our eternity,” he smiled, and Odin bowed his head in thanks, letting go of Frigg’s hand to hold both of his own in front of himself. “Please, converse, rest, enjoy the sights of Olympus and partake in the refreshments,” Zeus gestured his arms to the tables of ambrosia that stretched so far that even the gods lost sight of their ends. With that, he sat back on his throne, and waited for Odin and Frigg to approach.
Hades took the opportunity to grab Persephone’s hand and try to slink off but the goddess just chided him and forced him to sit back in his throne as she went to see her mother. Hel chose this moment to approach him and the two began a stilted conversation about their individual worlds of death. Hephaestus and Hestia, who had taken up to joining together in situations of unfamiliarity, sat together in the corner, whispering among themselves. Apollo found company in Bragi, though both instantly began speaking in verse to try and prove who was the better poet.
Artemis, Ares, and Athena had crowded Thor and Tyr and were all in different positions of trying to look dangerous, unamused, and intrigued at the same time. Aphrodite had pounced on Baldr, but found competition in the muses who had already made their way to surround him, and soon found herself flirting with Freyr. Hermes and Loki too had found delightful conversation with one another, full of ideas of thievery and trickery.
And Poseidon was… enamoured. Since the moment he had laid eyes on you he had not taken them away. He had slowly sat back down in his chair, worried that if he stayed standing his knees may give out. You made a god weak. You were beautiful, ethereal, magical, beyond anything even the gods could think to conjure. And your dress… oh that dress, had you chosen it for him? Had you arrived with a mind to capture his very essence? Because it started with that dress. You looked the very soul of water, the very thing that made a world impossible without it. Your hair, your luscious hair, so blue that it reminded him of his palace, of the places deepest in the sea where he felt truly at peace. And the small smile on your face as you meandered between the different groups of gods conversing, slightly shy of your place, but not unhappy. It was the smile of a fresh pearl, one that shined under even the dimmest of lights.
Poseidon watched you walk about, not entering any conversation but not shying away from listening to the others speak. Your pretty face never once dipped into a frown, and he felt like he would never truly catch his breath if he could see you in his line of vision. It took every bit of his godly power to force his eyes away, and he was both angered and thankful when some god (who seemed to be the only one who looked as old as he probably was) walked up to his throne and began conversing about fish.
You were so happy that Njord had listened to your little prompt to go speak to the god of the seas, because it meant he finally pulled his eyes away from you, and you could begin to watch him in return. He had been the first of the thrones you had looked at, and the only one you truly cared about now. His eyes were such a dark blue that they reminded you of the ocean, of your favourite place in the ocean in fact, and they seemed so… knowing, as if one look at another told him everything he needed to know about them. His form was majestic, stoic and strong, with broad shoulders and thick arms that made you desire something you had never desired before. You wanted him to hold you. You wanted him to wrap those arms around you, to run your fingers over those arms. Were you bewitched? Were you cursed? Even his hair made you feel desire, those beautiful locks of hair that resembled celestial bronze, neat yet still unrestrained with a particularly unruly strand falling onto his forehead. You wanted to run your fingers through that hair, to feel if it was truly as soft as you imagined, to press your nose into it and inhale the slightly salty scent that surely clung to him, that you had come to love as much as the sight of the ocean itself. You wanted to feel his beard on your cheeks, under your palms, to know if the white hairs that threaded through it were any coarser than the others, to know what it felt like to have a man’s face in the palms of your hands. Your entire being felt as if it was on fire, and the more you stared at him, at the slight signs of age that showed themselves in the lines by his eyes and mouth, the more you felt it burn inside you.
Someone cleared their throat to your right and you gasped, whirling on them as a blush branded itself on your cheeks, as if your body wanted to betray your thoughts. You smiled, hoping to cover up whatever embarrassment may have shown on your face, and gazed at the god before you. He was about your height, if not a little taller, with a grin that reminded you of Loki’s. His hair was black and combed back smoothly in a rather regal fashion. His eyes were black too, you noticed, so black that you couldn’t differentiate the pupil from the iris. You smiled brightly at him, bowing your head in greeting when you noticed the little wings that protruded from his shoes.
“My goodness! Your shoes!” You exclaimed, gasping and pointing at them with a delighted little laugh.
“Yes,” he laughed along, “they help me travel quickly when I am tired, though they do often have a mind of their own,” he joked, and you laughed loudly. He had a sweet voice, one that would sound happy even when he was sad. “I am Hermes, son of Zeus, what is your name?” His eyes were sparkling and you found you enjoyed it.
“I am Y/n of the Aesir, goddess of love and war,” you introduced yourself, holding out your hand to him. Hermes held it as if it were a precious gift and pressed his lips to your knuckles. You had never felt so regal.
“Ah, yes, Odin’s youngest, I have heard of your prowess on the battlefield.” Hermes was surely a charmer, you thought, and you smiled brightly, a tinge of pink to your cheeks.
“You flatter me, I am still unproven as a goddess of war, though I suppose I do plan a strategy well,” you smiled cheekily, shrugging nonchalantly and holding your hands behind your back as you swayed girlishly.
If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your ability to fight. It was the reason your father had given you this title, your cunning ability to break down your opponents in all sorts of ways, to plan out a fight before it had even begun. Simply put, you were good at it, you could defeat Tyr with ease now, and even Thor had become no challenge. While you still struggled with the love side of your godly abilities and duties, you could always rely on your fighting.
“What about you, Hermes? What are you the god of?” You asked, tilting your head in question.
“Many things, trade, luck, travel, and thieves,” he answered breezily, though his smile betrayed his pride. “I am the herald of our pantheon, the messenger of the gods.”
“Well you are very important then, for where would we be without our messengers?” You told him sweetly, and all he could do was nod. His chest filled with warmth and he knew he had to be careful or the affection that now bubbled inside of him would erupt from his mouth.
“You are wise as you are sweet,” he simply replied, and you just smiled brightly before turning to face the group and stepping slightly closer to his side.
“You remind me of Loki, though he is not a brother, I see him as such,” you told him, and a small pang hit him in the stomach. You had already passed him off as a brother it seemed. But Hermes just shook his head to himself and smiled at you again, leading you toward a display of flowers just to the side that was one of Demeter’s favoured experimental projects. He was tenacious, if nothing else, and he would eventually get you to enjoy his company as something more.
Poseidon had ended up enjoying his conversation with Njord (who was surprisingly intelligent and rather engaging when conversing about fish) but when the god had left him he instantly began to look around for you. Any good mood was squashed when he saw you walking off arm in arm with Hermes, and a thunderous look settled across his face. Somewhere on earth a storm began to brew. Luckily, you didn’t walk far, and he was able to watch over you from his throne, though his mood had already soured, and continued to sour the longer you stayed attached to Hermes’ arm.
Hades, who had finally rid himself of Hel’s company, Hestia and Hephaestus from their corner, and even Dionysus from his seat at the ambrosia table with a jug of wine bigger than his head watched Poseidon. He was acting rather odd, and they could all now see why. His eyes had not left the girl-goddess since she had arrived, and he was miserably failing if he was attempting to be subtle. They had noticed the goddess watching him in return, the pink tint on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye, and a teasing giggle seemed to build in all those watching. How poignant for Poseidon to fall for the goddess dressed like the sea. Hades stood from his throne and made his way to his brother, sitting on the arm of his throne and smirking at him.
“I will admit, brother, that she is beautiful,” he told Poseidon quietly. The god of the sea snapped his head to his brother, and scowled.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he answered simply, but Hades just laughed, patting Poseidon on the shoulder.
“Oh brother, you truly do not understand the art of subtlety, do you?” Hades raised an eyebrow and Poseidon stared at him bewildered. “You have watched that one since she arrived and done nothing but that. And goodness, the way you watch her! Have you never seen a woman?” Poseidon shrugged his brother’s hand off of his shoulders and had the decency to look slightly sheepish. He had assumed no one would notice. Hades noted the slight shame in his brother’s expression and sighed, smiling gently.
“Do not worry, I will tell no one, though I may not have anything to tell as she does seem to be enjoying Hermes’ company,” he added teasingly, and Poseidon growled at his brother’s back.
He was distracted by a commotion that had arisen near where Hermes and the goddess had stood. Now a group had gathered around them, fluttering with whispers, and he was too curious not to know what was going on. He walked swiftly from the throne, standing just behind some of the minor gods in the group and peering over their heads.
“So you are a goddess of war, your brother has said?” Ares asked, hands on his hips as he stared down at you. You smiled up at him, nodding your head.
“The goddess of war and love,” you told him. Athena and Aphrodite, both stood just behind Ares with their arms crossed over their chests scoffed.
“A goddess of war and love? Must not be good at either,” Aphrodite murmured, voice snarky and loud enough to be heard by everyone. Athena smirked, hiding a chuckle behind her hand. You frowned at this, looking toward the two goddesses, but Ares just moved so you would be forced to continue staring at him.
“She is a guest, do not be rude,” Hermes spat, but Ares and Aphrodite just waved their hands in twin moves of dismissal.
“I am the god of war, she is the goddess of love, we have the right to ask questions of a guest who resembles us so closely,” Ares smirked at Hermes, but he was quick to return his gaze to you. His eyes were like fire, hungry and angry, ready to burn whatever he looked at.
“So, what exactly do you do? Do you make enemies fall in love and end wars?” Aphrodite snarked, tilting her head and staring at you like you were just something annoying that had flown into her path.
Poseidon wanted to intervene. He was desperate to come to your defence, to have the waters flood Olympus and drown each of them until they were nothing but salt in the sea. But before he could step forward to your aid, he saw the subtle changes in you. He saw the way your eyes hardened, any trace of the happiness and gentleness with which you had treated everyone thus far disappearing. He saw your back straighten just a tad more, your shoulders pushing back and your balance shifting just slightly forward onto the balls of your feet. You clenched your teeth together for a moment before relaxing your jaw and looking up at Ares.
“Would you like to fight me?” You asked simply, folding your hands in front of you. Ares began to laugh, a deep guffawing laugh that had him bending backward and puffing it into the sky. Aphrodite tittered, pressing her fingers to her mouth and turning to the side as her laugh tinkled into the air. Even Athena smirked, though she didn’t say anything nor laugh, just a widening of her lips and a slight disbelief at your stupidity in her eyes. “Is there a problem?”
“You have just asked to fight a REAL god of war, child, what am I to do other than laugh?” He replied, throwing his arms out and gazing at the crowd.
“Careful, brother,” Hermes spat, but you just placed a hand on his arm, stoic expression not changing.
“You could fight me,” you answered simply, beginning to tie your hair back. “Unless you do not believe in yourself, REAL god of war?”
Ares snarled, baring his teeth at you before stepping back and throwing off his purple sash. It would only be a hindrance to his fighting ability. You smiled, broad and bright, and a longsword appeared in your hand. A glorious weapon, with a handle of white bone carved from a broken fang of Fenrir. The blade was black like onyx, but fashioned from the strongest metal the dwarves could find and forge in Nidavellir. It was your favourite. You spun it in your hand lazily, inspecting it for a moment before turning to look back at Ares. Your eyes flashed blue, so quickly that if anyone had blinked they would have missed it. Then, with a smile so gentle you seemed you could never hurt a fly, you attacked.
It took you no more than five minutes to have Ares on the floor, your sword pointed at his throat. You were swift like wind, clanging your sword against his before twisting around him and kicking the back of his knee and then the other to flip him over as he fell. Not a hair out of place, you smiled down at him, pressing the point just a little into the skin of his throat before pulling it away completely and sending it back to Asgard. Ares stared up at you with eyes so wide you thought they would pop out of his head. He was winded, puffing on the floor as he tried to figure out where he was, what had just happened.
“How did you…” Hermes stared at you, mouth wide open.
“I told you! I’m good at strategy. He is cocky, and he underestimated me. He believed I was being cocky, and thought that when I saw him with his sword I would be apprehensive. He did not expect a swift beginning attack, nor did he believe I would risk trying to go for an obvious place like the back of the knees. To know your opponent is to be able to defeat them. Simple.” You smiled at Hermes, shrugging and turning away from the crowd to venture around the flower display and find one you hadn’t seen yet.
Ares sat up, Aphrodite gulped, and Athena turned away, walking off. The entire group began to whisper about what they had just witnessed, the story spreading to all the gods and spirits quicker than a wildfire. They slowly dispersed, leaving Ares on the floor with Aphrodite gently patting his shoulder in a sad attempt at comfort (which he shoved off as he stood and stormed away).
Poseidon watched all this and waited until he had walked back to his throne to let himself smile. He leaned back and replayed the fight in his mind, chuckling at the way you had stomped on the back of Ares’ knee with your delicate shoes. Oh he was absolutely enthralled by this goddess, and he didn’t even know your name yet…
Taglist: @josxkl1m
#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy pjo#percy series#pjo show#pjo#poseidon fic update#poseidon x reader#poseidon pjo#pjo poseidon#poseidon#posideon#poseiden#poseidad#poseidón#posiedon#kronos#norse mythology#norse gods#norse pantheon#norse goddess reader#percy jackson tv show#pjo series#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson series#percy jackson show#percy jackson x reader
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Just curious in the prison AU how did the character yk react when being arrested? I’ve seen a few videos and some people like yk resist arrest or like make it difficult for the cops to load them into the car and others just kinda let it happen? I’m just curious on how much of a struggle did the cops have when trying to arrest the proxy’s/pastas
THIS MAY INCLUDE SPOILERS FOR FUTURE PARTD OF THE PRISON AU, IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE, SCROLL PAST.
I like to think the proxies got raided, so I'm going to take some inspo from my Insane Asylum AU
Maybe Toby left a piece of evidence that led the cops right to them. For this mission, the Proxies were staying in a motel. It was the middle of the night, Toby's watching lord knows what, Hoodie's looking at some photographs he took of the victims, and Masky's smoking outside. But, as Masky's smoking, he sees bunch of cop cars in the distance. He'd run inside and tell them that they gotta leave now.
However, they got caught. Hoodie would probably be the most willing. Hoodie's the most logical of the group and he knows damn well that he isn't going to get away unless they all have a plan. He'd have the most annoyed look on his face but he wouldn't do anything.
Toby almost gotta away. Toby's had so many run ins with the cops, starting back when he was a late teenager. He would've gotten away to if his tics didn't start to act up like crazy. He'd be screaming, maybe bite a cop or two, they wouldn't definitely put a muzzle on him because he'd been sent to jail before, as mentioned in Part 1.
Masky is similar to Hoodie where he's more so annoyed then anything. But, I can see him being extremely paranoid about what the Operator and Slenderman are going to react, not even Kate has gotten caught and she works alone. He'd curse out the cops, but during the car ride, he'd be mumbling to himself, and maybe even have a panic attack.
Now to everyone else!
Ben, Jeff, and EJ were also caught together. They were all hanging out in a cabin where Jeff killing the current residents. However, Jeff had left a piece of evidence at one of his old crime scenes that led the cops to them.
EJ was dissecting one of the people Jeff killed with Ben looming over him, smoking a blunt while asking him hundreds of questions. Jeff would come over and now all of them are looming over this dead guy's body, his stomach cut open with his kidneys ripped out.
I just wanna note that these guys were the hardest to find because they're not always together, EJ eats the evidence, Ben's killings rarely leave a mark on the real world, and Jeff is good at what he does.
When the door got kicked in, the cops stared at the three in horror.
Since Ben was high as hell, he'd start laughing while saying they were fucked. Might I add, if Ben wasn't high, the three of them deadass could've escaped no problem because the cabin had a TV.
Ben was caught first and he'd be laughing, yelling "Fuck the police" while spitting on the floor. The most unserious motherfucker.
EJ killed a good chunk of the cops, but then his hunger kicked in. He ended up eating a cop, but he was able to get knocked out because of it.
Jeff got carried away and got knocked out as well.
Liu's arrest was actually recorded on live TV.
After going on a minor killing spree in a city he was in, he was seen in the background of some guy's livestream.
Liu's identity was roughly unknown by the police, and they had a few sketches of what he might look like, and unfortunately for him, they had one that was really close.
When Liu realized he was being followed by a helicopter and a few police cars, he booked it. The entire chase was live, and in broad daylight too.
He ended up cornering himself after he ran into an abandoned building. When he realized he was caught, he just sat down and waited for the cops to catch up.
When the cops walked in, they saw him sitting on top of a crate, his head facing the floor as he spinned a knife in his hand, humming a lullaby to pass the time. Tbh with you, he let himself get caught. When Jeff found out, he was so fucking pissed off. When he saw him enter the inmates ward, he yelled and playfully hit him for 30 minutes straight, Liu couldn't care less tho.
#.Prison AU#yandere creepypasta#creepypasta x you#creepypasta x reader#ticci toby x reader#masky x reader#hoodie x reader#yandere creepypasta x reader#Yandere creepypasta#eyeless jack x reader
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🪓 — “Ticci” Toby Rogers
the boy with mudded sneakers and peach juice on his lips
- a tragic boy. loss runs deep in his bones, rotting him from the inside out. his young muddy eyes have seen so much they resemble ones of a veteran returning home from war. atrocities coat his arms, stained red.
- he’s brunette, his like mother, he also has her heart. he has his fathers nose though, and his temper. the violence sparks from his tongue, while his heartstrings tug. nobody knows if he’s weak, or the strongest boy they’ve ever met.
- feral. rabid. like a bad dog who hasn’t been fed from a caring hand in years. he has been deprived for so long he has only learnt to take it by force. in a dog eat dog world, he will bare his teeth and go for the throat. its how he grew up, its all he knows.
- in another world, he could’ve been kind. maybe he could’ve even been a good person. but not here, goodness is not found in the ground beneath his feet or the smokey air he breaths. fire fills his lungs and pours from his mouth. the boy will destroy everything he touches. people around him know better than to get too close, for they know he bites.
- and when he bites, he bites hard. many have tried to muzzle him, sedate the rage that he holds clenched between his teeth like a medal of dishonour. he will scream, kick, fight. he will hurt others without shame or remorse. and when he brings you to your knees, you will look up to see a twisted smile twitching on his face. you know he likes the power.
- so you can say he’s a monster, a horrible person. he is a killer after all, the worst of the worst. you cannot teach an old dog new tricks, and sometimes people can’t be saved. the boy will dig his own grave as he’s done with bodies upon bodies before him. mud and blood coats his scarred hands and his ripped up jeans. and he will one day lay six feet under where he knew he should’ve been all those years.
- toby should’ve been dead. and by all means, he is dead. a sick ruthless rot consumes him, like a maggot filled corpse. there are ropes around his limbs, attached to the unknown which commands him. he wakes up with blood on his hands, not knowing where he has been. he isn’t scared. he has nothing to lose.
- he has a taste for peaches. this fondness is the most human you’ll see the boy become. his late sister had peach scented perfume. he always hated the scent. but despite this, you will find the pits in abandoned cabins or littered around the forest grounds, being picked up by squirrels, and you know. you know he’s been here. you know he still has a taste for all he’s lost.
- sometimes, people will play with the idea the boy isn’t as bad as he seems. he has been hurt, more than you could imagine. they will twirl the concept of a troubled boy, a victim of his history, a poor soul, like a lit match in their hands. and soon they will realize it only burns.
- toby rogers is not a good person. he could’ve been. god knows he could’ve. but he has torn families apart, hurt innocents, destroyed things that were once so loved. he reeks of smoke and loss. the smell is pungent, it trickles down your throat and chokes you. his cigarettes burn holes into your favourite shirt, he will cut your hair, smash your new cd. again and again, he will destroy in any new way. and he gets creative.
#tombwrites#creepypasta#creepypasta fandom#ticci toby#creepypasta ticci toby#ticci toby headcanons#creepypasta headcanon#toby rogers
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hiii im not sure if you take reqs and you can ignore this if you want but i rlly love how u write the proxies!! ^__^ may i req for hcs of them in a poly relationship with reader? like who fell first, how they came to terms with being poly and etc
thx anon ! sorry for getting to ur request so late. i'd love to write for this. hope u enjoy :,) this is a oneshot cause i didn't know how to start this one up i kinda just kept writinggg lol
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ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION — proxies
cw, } gn!reader (they and them prns used), drinking, a little suggestive, mention of murder, why choose?
summary , } going out to the bar for a quick drink was not supposed to lead to this...
When you were first "chosen" as one of Slenderman's proxies, it was, undeniably, significantly overwhelming. Not only being introduced to one entity that you would be working for but several others that you were working and living with... yeah... a bit nerve-wracking.
Toby was incredibly welcoming, having been in the same situation as you when he arrived at the mansion for the first time. He undoubtedly found you attractive, but he would never willingly admit it. That was until...
The proxies were all tired and after one of their missions decided to visit the local bar for a quick drink. At this point, you were well acquainted with one another and the boys even felt comfortable taking their masks off around you when going into public spaces.
The dark sky was cloudy and the wind nipped aggressively at your skin as the four of you stepped into a small bar on the outskirts of a town in which you were unaware of the name.
Masky, or rather Tim, as he told you to call him in public, showed the group to a booth sitting in the back corner of the pub. Even through the blaring country music playing on an old jukebox, you could hear Toby grumble a soft complaint about the melodies playing from the machine, causing Hoodie, who told you to call him Brian, to send a glare toward Toby at the insult but ultimately say nothing. Hoodie-- Brian-- wasn't a man of many words, you found.
When you all finally found your seats at the booth that Tim had so gracefully picked out, he ordered a round of beers for all four of you.
Several rounds later, evidently, you and Toby were the only ones not drunk. Toby didn't like drinking-- he mentioned something about his father being an alcoholic-- and you knew you guys would need someone with a proper license and driving knowledge to be able to drive you all back to the cabin you were staying in when the time came to leave.
Tim pulled out a cigarette to smoke despite the 'no smoking' sign hanging near the front entrance of the building, but none of the employees nor the other patrons of the establishment seemed to care or even notice.
"It might be time to move on. It's getting late and we need to get up early tomorrow morning so we can make it back at a decent time," You reasoned, and Toby nodded, staring into your eyes intently as you spoke. Masky grumbled.
"Awww-- you're no fun," He slurred, setting down his half-drunken pint of beer and taking another drag of his cigarette. His eyes met yours, similar to Toby's. "Don't be such a saint. I'm sure you can have fun sometimes."
You caught yourself blushing at Tim's dumb innuendo, but you huffed and crossed your arms, avoiding eye contact.
"So cute when you pout. Wish you'd just be mine."
Everything seemed to pause for a split second when Tim spoke those words. Even Brian's drunken head seemed to move to the side to stare at his best friend when he let those words slip loose. Toby's jaw practically hit the table his elbows were resting on.
Through all of these reactions, Tim looked unbothered. He snuffed his cigarette out on the table and shrugged.
"What? Y'all are looking at me like I just murdered your grandma's dog."
"Do you really mean that, Tim?" You ask, overcome with confusion and desire to know if he was being honest.
"Do I take you as the type to bullshit?"
Everyone at the booth paused, at a loss for words. Tim was right-- he often said what he meant when he felt it-- even at the risk of other's feelings.
"M-Masky--" Toby babbled.
"Tim." He corrected.
"Y-You can't feel th-that way about th-them. Th-they're m-mine," Toby admits, making your mouth open with shock before Brian moves to speak.
"I feel the same way about them."
"Wait-- do you guys all like me-- like that?" You question, at an utter loss for words. All three of the boys nod in unison.
"Well-- who do you choose, angel?" Masky questions, all of the boys on the edge of their seats and eager to hear your most anticipated answer.
"Who says you can't share me?"
#americantfootball .#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#hoodie x reader#creepypasta fluff#proxies#proxies x reader#proxies x y/n#ticci toby x you#masky x you#hoodie x you
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yo i want to see headcannons of any of the marble hornets or even ticci toby with a cottagecore fem s/o, how would they react with the way she styled herself? i mean.. they are a vicious ruthless monster and then here she is their s/o who is just love nature, 70s fashion, sweet and friendly like yk
Proxies with a cottagecore S/O
Toby, Tim/Masky + Brian/Hoodie x Gender Neutral Reader (Separately)
Genre: Fluff, Headcanons
Content/Warnings: Toby’s section gets a bit suggestive because that’s how he is (small touches, staring, ogling, but it’s all light), a minuscule mention of blood, mostly fluff
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
Toby
Oooohhhh this boy
Keep in mind, he’s about 19, 20
Those horny teenager hormones are still coursing through him, and they aren’t leaving any time soon
Seeing you in such cute little clothes gets him a liiiiittle worked up, he just can’t help it!
If you’re wearing pants, he’s eyeing you up when you walk away, 100%
If you’re wearing a skirt, don’t be surprised if his hands wander up your thighs
He’ll stop if you tell him to of course, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable! But if he knows he’s got the green light, you know what to expect
He also loooooves that you love nature! He loves it too!
Be prepared to pick all the leaves and sticks out of his hair when he comes back home after a long day/night
And also wash the blood of off him (don’t be surprised if he asks you to join him in the shower)
AND be prepared for him to bring back random bugs, frogs, and other small animals and try to convince you to let him keep them
(do not let him)
He’ll definitely be bringing back random plants and berries to see if you can cook with them
He’s really good at foraging, although he’d be significantly better if he could remember what’s edible and what’s not
He’s got some brain damage and ADHD but he tries his best yk
Just pat his head and tell him he’s done good
He also may or may not sneak into your closet to try on your clothes every once in a while
Masculine, feminine, androgynous, he doesn’t care! He likes your clothes!
Overall he’s rather sweet, if a bit oblivious; you may have to teach him a few things, but he’ll learn for you!
Tim/Masky
Tim grew up in an old farmhouse, he knows a lot about this sort of thing!
In fact, your cottagecore aesthetic is borderline nostalgic for him, it really warms his heart in a way he’s waaaay too embarrassed to ever admit, even if he personally doesn’t partake in the lifestyle
He’ll totally adjust fine to the cottagecore life
He’s had his fair share of experience with cooking with whatever he can forage from the woods (and he actually knows what can and can’t be eaten), so he’s very helpful in the kitchen!
He’s also a very skilled hunter, so he’s more than willing to bring back a fresh kill for you to cook
He’ll skin it and do all the dirty work for you, that way your job is easy
In return all you have to do cook him dinner while he’s in the shower washing off the smell, and he’ll be happy
He thinks your style is absolutely adorable, even if he won’t outright say it!
That’s okay though, because you can see it in the way his eyes widen a bit when you come down the stairs all dressed up in the prettiest little outfit he could ever imagine
He’ll pause and look down, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette before looking up and giving a brief compliment:
“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.”
He’s kinda emotionally constipated, but you’ll learn to read him
If you craft, please give him homemade gifts!
Baskets, wreaths, flower arrangements, whatever little cottagecore trinket you can conjure
You’ll have his heart forever
One of Tim’s favorite pastimes is whittling, so don’t he surprised if he leaves a little deer statue on your beside table as a thank you
Tim isn’t high maintenance or hard to satisfy at all, he’s more than happy to share a quaint little cottage with you
All he needs is a kiss on the cheek when he leaves for ‘work’ to keep him warm until he can hug you again
Brian/Hoodie
Brian is probably the most well versed on internet aesthetics, and dare I say may even be a bit cottagecore himself!
It’s a lot more subtle of course, but you can see it in the way he hoards potted plants and persistently makes sure the hummingbird feeder and bird bath are full
He’s also the most invested in nature, if that makes sense; he knows a lot about the native flora and fauna of his area and will always point them out to you if you’re around
It’s not unusual for you to catch him staring out the window at the birds
He doesn’t really like to cook and he doesn’t forage since it’s not something that’s ever interested him, but he has a way with sewing!
He collects patches for his bags and clothes, and he likes to alter and add to his own garments
He’s phenomenal with patchwork and fixing up tears
Never again will you have to be upset about a rip in your favorite dress or a split seam in your best pair of pants!
Brian will have it fixed up like new in no time
You won’t even be able to tell it was ever torn!
Although he doesn’t forage, Brian always brings a bag with him to pick up any plants he hasn’t seen before or wants more of
If he particularly likes one he’ll uproot it and put it in a pot to keep in your cottage
Soon half of your house will belong to the plants, but it’s okay because he makes sure they’re arranged cutely
He cares just as much about the aesthetic as you do, don’t worry
He definitely likes to match outfits too!
If he’s ever in town and sees a piece of clothing he likes, he’s buying another (or at least the closest thing) for you too
Be ready for many fashion shows, all while he compliments every single outfit (and you’d better do the same for him!)
When he’s home there will certainly be many calm, domestic nights filled with mundane couples activities and exhausting laughter
He’s a romantic at heart, and nothing will ever change that
#marble hornets#marble hornets x reader#marble hornets requests#marble hornets headcanons#gender neutral reader#cottagecore#tim wright#masky#tim wright x reader#masky x reader#masky headcanons#tim wright headcanons#brian thomas#brian thomas headcanon#brian thomas x reader#hoodie x reader#hoodie marble hornets#hoodie mh#hoodie and masky#hoodie headcanons#ticci toby#toby rogers#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta fluff#fluff#headcanons#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby headcanons
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