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luv4freddie · 4 months

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Polaroid Love - F.W

Fred goes to work with his father and comes home with a muggle Polaroid camera, deciding the best use of it would be to take horrendous pictures of his girlfriend.

Fred x fem!Muggleborn reader, established relationship, reader gets red, house and age not specific, tooth rotting fluff bc I love lovesick Fred, 1.2 k words

Being a muggleborn at the Weasley household was an experience, to say the least.

In the last week since you’ve been at the Burrow, you’ve explained what rubber ducks are for, how to operate a microwave, and Pythagorean theorem.

Today Aurthur took the boys to work with him, so you were currently helping Molly cook dinner.

You had yet to understand the witchy way of cooking, so you were stuck mixing a bowl by hand while Molly sent knives, pots, and pasta flying all across the room.

You ducked a flying cutting board right as the group of rowdy boys entered the front door, your boyfriends voice in particular carrying over the noise of clattering dish ware.

“Honey, we’re home.” Aurthur calls, and Molly meets them all at the door, asking you to ‘keep an eye on’ the multitude of activity in the kitchen.

You look around with wide eyes, imagining all the magical pots dropping to the floor and spoons stopping their stirring, Molly walking in and wondering how you were so incompetent that you would never be able to cook and therefore would be a horrible wife to her son.

You’re only snapped out of your reverie by a flash of light in your eyes, and you tumble back to your current environment— all the dishes are still floating, the spoons were still moving, and Fred was staring at you with a giant grin on his face.

“Hi Freddie!” You light up at the sight of your boyfriend, but don’t allow his attempt at hugging you, too focused on not disappointing your (hopefully) future mother-in-law.

“They’re not gonna stop working unless mom makes them, these things are always going.”

But you refuse to budge, and Molly walks in to see you holding your boyfriend away with one hand on his chest while you continue trying to stir with the other.

She lets out a laugh, telling Fred to leave you alone and go wash up before dinner.

“One kiss? Pleaseeee?” He gives you puppy eyes, and your face goes bright red.

“Not in front of your parents!” You hiss, but he steals a one anyway before running up the stairs and out of the way of the punch you tried to throw at him.

Molly pretends not to have seen, and you let your face cool down before asking what she wants you to do next.

Fifteen minutes later you’re sat at the large table, sandwiched between the twins while Ron talks to you from across the table.

“It was pretty fun, and we all got muggle souvenirs afterward, can you explain to me what this is?” He asks, holding up a PEZ dispenser with a cartoon character head on top.

You laugh, explaining how to get the candy out and watching as a few of the Weasley’s around the table stop to watch, Aurthur positively beaming at the discovery.

“Take a bite before dad can ask you something,” Fred whispers urgently in your ear, and you go to say something back but see Aurthur open his mouth on the other side of the table and you quickly scoop as much pasta into your mouth as you can fit.

You hear Fred laugh at you, and you turn to give him a glare; although it’s less scary due to the copious amounts of noodle hanging out of your mouth.

A flash once again momentarily blinds you, and you finally realize what it is when you see the small Polaroid camera in your boyfriend’s hand.

You go to yell at him, but still have pasta in your mouth so you settle for an angry groan and another smack to his arm.

You watch in horror as a piece of film comes out of the camera, which your boyfriend takes gingerly and looks at expectantly as it develops.

You finally manage to swallow your large bite, and you snatch the photo from his grasp, immediately being greeted by your own face, round with food in your cheeks and wide eyes while strands of pasta hang down your chin and sauce sits on the corners of your mouth.

“Freddie,” you groan in annoyance, but he just takes the photo back from your hands and looks at it proudly.

“It’s a lovely representation of you, darling.”

“It is not!!”

George is laughing too, and you turn back to your plate, trying not to think about the fact that your boyfriend now has two horrible pictures of you for keepsakes.

You try to help clean up after dinner, but Molly insists that someone else does it since you helped cook, so you head upstairs to your boyfriend’s room while Ron and Ginny grumble.

“Evening, love,” Fred greets as you enter the twins’ room.

“Y/n,” George greets as well, tipping his nonexistent hat to you before turning his back to you so he can start a letter to Angelina.

Your boyfriend uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, trapping you in his embrace and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you today.” He mumbles into your hair.

“It wasn’t even a full day,” you laugh, the sound muffled by his chest.

He scoffs, sitting down on his bed and pulling you onto his lap.

“So what, I’m not allowed to miss my girl?”

You feel your cheeks warming at the claim of being his, and you give him a teasing smile, “well when you say it like that..”

Before you can even move there’s another flash and you immediately groan, burying your head into the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

“I’m really starting to resent your dad for getting you that.”

You feel his shoulders shake with laughter, but all he says is “I think it’s my second favorite possession.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, pulling back so he can see it.

“Second favorite?”

“Yep. After these pictures.” He grins, now holding up all three photos he’s taken of you since being home.

“Why can’t you just take pictures like a normal person?” You ask, looking at the two new photos, the one from earlier of you with a wooden spoon in your hand and eyes looking around while bowls float around your head, and the newest one of you sat on Fred’s legs with pink cheeks and a grin on your face.

“Normal people don’t get to keep your happy face in their pockets though, now do they?”

You watch as he puts the photos back, and you melt at the thought of your boyfriend wanting to document your joy to keep as his own.

“I’m always wearing my happy face when I’m around you, Freddie.”

He grins (ignoring George’s gagging) and pulls you down onto his bed, smothering you in kisses until he can no longer keep himself up and your face is brighter than his hair.

“Guess I’ll have to get more film then.”

And he does.

In fact, by the time you get back to Hogwarts from the holidays he’s got a whole wall of polaroids .

You in his Christmas sweater with a proud smile on your face and an F across your chest, you being squeezed by his mother in the worlds tightest hug, you on a broom in his backyard and a quaffle in your arms, you asleep on his bed, even one of you puckering up as if to give the camera a kiss.

And no matter how many times he looks at them, Fred still stares at the photos with a lovesick smile on his face, absolutely in awe at the ability to capture pictures that are so you, so full of light and love that he feels like the luckiest man on Earth to get to be yours.

#I typed Weasley so many times it doesn’t feel like a real word 😭😭#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter scenarios #harry potter boys #harry potter characters #weasley twins

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drksanctuary · 6 months

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@everythingwasalreadypicked ‘s idea about Al losing his powers really got my mind juices flowing this morning:

Like Zues wouldn’t even do it personally. Facing off with some messenger of Zues (maybe hermes) in an alleyway bc he's making too much trouble.:

Alabaster Torrington and the Magic Thief:

Alabaster hadn’t expected to be cornered by a messenger of Olympus. Let alone Hermes himself,: Luke and Chris’s dad. THE messenger of Olympus.

Now really isn’t the time. He’s already feeling touchy and the last thing he wants is to be jumped by an enemy in an alleyway. But if it’s a fight he wants it’s a fight he’ll get. Alabaster attacks him with a charged hand, aiming for his chest.

Hermes ducks out of the way.Al Had anticipated this and he quickly turns directing his momentum to where the god went.

Hermes is almost surprised. But his winged feet are still too quick. He dodges the second blow, grabbing Al by the nape of his neck and slamming him into the wall.

Al grunts and struggles against the gods grip but he can’t escape.

“Sorry about this kid” Hermes says.

Al feels Hermes take something but he doesn't see what it is. He can't believe it. Olympians really are a divine mafia and he was getting fucking mugged?!.

Hermes lets go,his face a concerned frown.

Al spins on him with a snarl. He holds up his hand to charge another magic blast to hurl at the god. But nothing happens.

Al looks at his hand which is inexplicably empty. No green light coalescing in his palm, the runes on his shirt stay dormant.

He whips out one his cards gives it a double tap and then chucks it. It impotently floats to the floor, like a paper airplane caught in a wind. He tries another card, and then another and then he gets to the sword, which doesn't come out when he prompts it. Nothing is working.

"What the-" alabaster stutters, panic setting in before logic "what did you do to me?!"

Hermes' face remains a frown. "I'm…really sorry" he says and then flashes away.

The realization creeps up on him slowly, like a winter chill without wind. The world ...looks different. He can't feel its energy...the mist...it's just....gone. He tries not to hyperventilate but then a reminder sparks in his mind. He bolts to his safe house.

The runes that usually thrum with energy are silent and dull. He can't feel or hear them, but that's a passing fear.

He bursts through the door and looks around, breaths heavy and sporadic. He first goes to the study, then the kitchen, the bedroom. Empty.

"No..." Alabaster says, "no it can't..." He goes to the living room and opens the small tin that holds his most valuable possessions. Inside is an index card with the outline of a man. Alabaster places it on the table and taps it twice then looks around.Nothing happens. He does it again and Again. nothing…no one.

He slumps against the couch...he'd never felt so defeated. "No” he chokes back a sob “c-Claymore?" He asks into the still air. No response. He is,once more, painfully...utterly...alone.

Yup

I had to keep this angst in my head all day. AT WORK!

Hope you enjoyed 💕

#alabaster torrington #alabaster c torrington #oh he’s touchy bc he had just been in a fight with Claymore so let that sink in #the last words he’d said to him were not pleasant #let that sink in #;)#son of Magic #howard claymore #heroes of olympus #the angst!#percy jackson

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fluxweeed · 1 year

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Unfinished Friday

ahhh @tackytigerfic what a pleasure it was to get a peek at some hot unreleased tacky words! i'm so intrigued! ron's visions! temporal magic! underground brewing! sad boy dracooooo 🥺 delicious teasing perfection!!!

u were very kind to tag me!! i have a few fics that i know in my heart will never ever see the light of day; my favourite is a longfic that is my take on the classic auror partners trope. it's never getting done. i do not have it in me to write a 100k mutual pining casefic. i know this. we all know this. tragically i think it is also my favourite thing i've ever written – but perhaps that isn't so tragic, bc it means i get a chance to share some of it here now!

quick set-up: harry and draco are paired together on a case, which is going nowhere fast. in an attempt to bond w draco, bc their relationship can be described as awkward at best, harry invites him to his birthday drinks. instead, draco gets drunk and bonds with ron about how funny they think harry is (draco will regret this hugely when he's sober again). this is the immediate aftermath of the pub night.

“He can Floo from mine, the walk might clear his head a little bit.”

“My head is fine, Potty,” Malfoy insisted, tilting alarmingly sideways. Harry grabbed him and ducked under his arm.

“Or he can sleep in one of the spare rooms,” Harry amended.

“Probably for the best,” Hermione said, eyeing Malfoy. She was prevented from saying anything further by Ron planting his face directly into her hair.

“You’re my girlfriend!” Ron told the back of Hermione’s head, his voice muffled. Hermione patted him absently on the shoulder.

“Sure you’ll be all right, Harry?”

Harry thought he had it pretty lucky, actually, as Ron was, as far as Harry could tell, attempting to bury his entire self in Hermione’s hair. Hermione had a large volume of hair, but Ron was a very tall person. Harry didn’t think Ron was going to fit.

“Sure you’ll be all right?” Harry countered.

“Hermione Granger is my girlfriend!” Ron said into Hermione’s neck.

“Where is Weasley going?” Malfoy asked.

“We’re all going home,” Hermione said decisively. “Come on, you silly lump,” she told Ron, who whined when his attempt at nesting in Hermione’s hair was thwarted.

“I don’t want to go home,” Malfoy grumbled. Then he seemed to notice Harry propping him up. “Potter? What are you doing there?”

“I’m making sure you don’t fall flat on your face, you dickhead,” Harry said, trying to steer Malfoy out of the door.

“Oh,” Malfoy said. “That’s… oh.” He fell silent, frowning. Harry didn’t mind, as it left him compliant as Harry half-dragged him out onto Charing Cross Road.

Malfoy stayed quiet as they bade goodnight to the others, and stumbled along without complaint. It was quite a long walk back to Grimmauld Place. Harry usually enjoyed the journey, but it wasn’t long before his shoulders started to ache from hauling a stumbling Malfoy along. He briefly considered the Underground, or maybe a taxi – but Malfoy refused to put his wand away. Harry was hoping that at least if they stayed outside, nobody would notice or care. At least Malfoy wasn’t actually using it.

Harry huffed and shifted under Malfoy’s arm so he could get a better grip. He wished he could cast a feather-light charm, but with Malfoy in the state he was in, a sudden change in gravity wouldn’t do either of them any favours. And anyway – the last thing they needed was for Harry to make the charm too strong (he still wasn’t fully sober, himself) and have Malfoy go floating off over central London.

As they made their way further north, rowdy pubs and clubs gave way to sleepy rows of shops and flats. The difference in atmosphere was startling, and Harry found his ears were ringing from the lack of noise.

“Whatzat sound?” Malfoy demanded.

“Oh, awake, are you? Want to let your feet know?”

Malfoy ignored him and made no attempt to support himself. Instead, he frowned over his shoulder, his neck twisting awkwardly where Harry’s head was in the way. “Your back is screaming.”

“No s’not, that’s just my ears ringing,” Harry said, then realised how stupid that was. “Wait. That’s not right, is it?”

“Potty Potter.” Malfoy snickered. “I think there’s a pixie in your bag, Potty.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to awkwardly twist his neck, but with Malfoy’s arm still slung over him, it was quite impossible to turn his head at all. “He said there wouldn’t be any more pixies,” Harry mumbled, thinking of Seamus, but now Malfoy had pointed it out, Harry realised the noise was indeed coming from behind him.

Harry looked around and spotted a nearby lamppost he could lean Malfoy against while he dug through his bag. Buried under his work robes wasn’t a pixie, but instead –

“Izzat a Sneakoscope?” Malfoy asked. “Why do you even have that? They’re rubbish. Absolute tat.”

“Not this one,” Harry frowned at the twirling top, screaming its distress out of the palm of Harry’s hand. “Hermione charmed it for me. It only reacts to things related to cases I’ve been assigned.” He straightened and looked up and down the quiet street, half expecting to see a swirl of robes, hear the echo of Pansy Parkinson’s wicked laugh.

But nothing waited for him except shuttered shopfronts and closed blinds. Harry held the Sneakoscope up one way, then another, trying to figure out which direction made it wail louder. But his foggy brain was having trouble focusing on anything through the piercing noise. He shook his head to try and clear it.

“Should we call it in, d’you reckon? Get someone to come down here and take a look?”

“What, wake Robards up because someone kicked your bag at the pub and broke your trinket?” Malfoy wrinkled his nose. “It’s four in the morning.”

It was only just gone midnight, but Malfoy had a point nonetheless. “But if something is happening, and we miss it…”

“Look around, Potty!” Malfoy spread his arms dramatically, and nearly lost his balance. “There’s nobody here! Everyone is sleeping! Helloooo, Muggles!” he called.

“Shut the fuck up!” came a muffled yell in response.

The Sneakoscope was still whirring loudly. Harry wrapped his robes around it and stuffed it back in his bag. Unfortunately, silencing the Sneakoscope’s screech didn’t clear Harry’s sluggish thoughts as much as he’d wanted it to.

“I still think we should look into it,” he said doubtfully.

“It’s four in the morning!”

Still wrong, but they were hardly in the right state to be investigating. “Tomorrow, then. We’ll come back.” If Malfoy’s yelling hadn’t stopped the Sneakoscope whirring, it probably wasn’t reacting to the presence of a person, who surely would have Disapparated at the noise.

Malfoy shrugged, the movement somehow still elegant despite his drunken leaning. “If you like.”

Harry hesitated for a moment longer, but temporal inaccuracies or not, Malfoy was right: dragging Robards out of bed in the early hours of a Saturday morning because of a broken Sneakoscope was too great a risk. They’d come back tomorrow and take a proper look around.

He cast a tracking charm on the nearest shopfront – Mickey’s Motors – so they could find their way back tomorrow and stood, hoiking the bag back onto his shoulders. “Come on, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Malfoy held an arm out imperiously, and Harry rolled his eyes before ducking under it and letting Malfoy lean on him again.

“Where are we going?”

Harry snorted and hitched Malfoy’s arm more comfortably around his shoulder as they set off towards Islington again. “Where do you think we’re going, Malfoy?”

“I dunno. You’re doing all the walking.”

“You’re bloody right I am,” Harry grumbled. “We’re going back to my house. Lucky for you. I could have been taking you anywhere, you daft bugger.”

“I trust you,” Malfoy said distractedly. “We’re going back to… your house?”

“Yes, idiot.”

Malfoy hummed, and tilted his head so it was resting against Harry’s. “You taking me home, Harry?” he murmured. Harry was forcefully reminded of the Cupboard Incident; Malfoy’s voice was suddenly as low and silky as it had been then. Its effect on Harry hadn’t changed, and he shivered despite the warm evening.

They were a few streets away from Grimmauld Place when Malfoy finally piped up again. “Why have we been walking for hours? I’m hungry.”

“We’ve only been walking for ten minutes since we stopped,” Harry grouched. His back ached from the extra weight of a floppy pure-blood slumped over him. At least Malfoy was talking again, which made Harry feel as if he was slightly better than the lamppost outside Mickey’s Motors, but Malfoy hadn’t yet found it in himself to walk properly. “Although, again, you’re not doing much of the walking, are you?”

“You’re saving me,” Malfoy said, and dissolved into snickers. He didn’t stop giggling – nor did he make any effort to walk unaided – until they stopped in the middle of Grimmauld Place. Harry ducked out from under Malfoy’s arm, but kept a firm grip on him, just in case.

“Wotzat?” Malfoy said. “Are we here? Do you live in a park, Potter?” He looked at the gardens across the road and scrunched his nose.

“I don’t live in a park, Malfoy.”

“Then why are we standing in the street? It’s dark.” He raised his wand as if to ward off any would-be attackers.

Harry couldn’t help but grin. Malfoy was still unsteady on his feet, his hair a mess – hardly an intimidating sight. “I have to tell you something first,” Harry said, automatically glancing around for eavesdroppers. “C’mere.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened and he dropped his arm as Harry leant in to murmur, “I live at number twelve, Grimmauld Place.”

The light from the streetlamp glittered in Malfoy’s wide eyes. “Oh,” he breathed, “I live at number twenty-eight, Ennismore Gardens.”

A snort of laughter burst from Harry. “My house is under Fidelius, you prick.” He nodded his head towards number twelve. “Look.”

Malfoy turned to look at the front steps of number twelve. To Harry, they were as immobile as always, but he remembered how the house had squeezed itself into existence when he’d first seen it. “I’ve never been told a Fidelius secret before.” His voice was hushed.

“Well. I’m honoured to be your first.” Malfoy shot him a look and Harry cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

as ever, i have no clue where anyone else is at re: having done/not done this! please do take this as a sign to share ur hidden gems if you'd like, and if u do pls tag me so i can inhale them!!! ❤️

#my fic #long post #honestly nothing much happens in this scene but it's one of the only ones that is written fairly cohesively haha #perhaps that's why this fic is my fave #bc the stuff i suck at (plot; setting; actually threading things together) i simply did not do lmao #tag game

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stealingyourbones · 1 year

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i made a ceramic duck in my art class and i want to paint it red bc of you so thanks? for getting me out of artblock with the duck ducks are magic ig

HFFDDIJGFDD!!!! Oh man that makes me so happy :)))) art block is so difficult to crack im honored that you’re painting it red my dude! Floating red duck candles have grabbed the entirety of this crossover fandom by the throat and im so happy for it

#dp x dc #bones replies #metal-sporks

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nocturne-pisces · 3 years

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You know I'm coming for (haaaaah 😉) Stevie Rogers.

Giving Stevie his first bj and making him feel so good he cries and tears the sheets 😈

My soft!dom ass just wants to torture him with pleasure 😫

Hoevengers Weekend: Steve's First Fireworks Show

a/n: @littlelioncub43 you're filthy and know exactly how to play

this isn't beta'd and i wrote way more than i intended to.

rated: fuck off bc this is a scene about giving a man a blowjob.

AHAHA WHOOPS I WROTE 1.3K

smut under the cut, by clicking "read more" you attest that you are 18 years of age or older.

Steve reveled in the way that you jumped ever so slightly when a firework went off. He'd convinced the team to let him have his birthday to himself, though Tony couldn't be persuaded too far so Steve had settled on letting him put together a fireworks show over the Potomac while he watched it with you from his compound balcony.

The two of you had been settled in for maybe fifteen minutes before your hands had started wandering. You never could keep them to yourself, and you have half the mind to think that's why Cap kept you locked in his room so often. While most people looked to him for permission, you just took it, and he'd give it to you as long as he could. Which in itself is a feat because the serum makes him near unstoppable, his thirst near unquenchable, and his stamina unending.

"Y'know, Steven Grant Rogers-" you start, swinging your thighs over his so that you're face to face with him in his lap. His hands drifted up the skin on your legs and settled on your hips.

"What'd I do now?"

Your brows furrow in mock concern, wide eyed and questioning.

"What ever do you mean?"

"I'm usually in trouble when you bring out my full government name."

You give a melodramatic gasp, hand over your chest, before your features morph into something more sinister.

Steve notices immediately.

"Ah, see, there it is. There's the face."

"Well, it wouldn't be a birthday without something special."

That gets his attention. His hands retreat further into your shirt, up your back, pulling your chest into his. You can feel his cock stirring under your clothed cunt.

"Something special, huh? You tellin' me you got a present for the birthday boy?" You love this side of him, the cocky side of him that tries to take control from you.

A giggle erupts from your lips as you duck your head to lave at the skin on his neck. Steve lets his head fall back and his eyes close, a low groan clawing it's way out of his chest. Your hips circle against his growing erection and you feel where the pads of his fingers find purchase in the meat of your ribcage, where he’s holding on to you like you’ll float away.

"When was the last time someone throated your cock, Captain?"

You pull your head out of the crook of his neck when his grip on your skin turned clammy near instantly, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushing a deep pink. This wasn't his normal shy demeanor that you were dragging out of him. This was embarrassment. This was the magic button you'd found of something he hadn't done yet and he didn't know how to act.

"Oh my god, you've never gotten a blowjob."

Steve let out an indignant huff, too proud to admit to the fact, not that he needed to, it was written all over his face.

"Dove..." he whined, his chest was already heaving and his hips rutted up into yours, desperate to find friction.

"Well, -" you leaned down to nip at his earlobe, knowing the way it made his shoulder twice and his eyes roll back, "-on behalf of all the dames that never got the chance to choke on it, let me show you what you missed."

You slid down his legs and onto the concrete of the balcony floor. The moment your weight was off of him you saw where he tented in his gray sweatpants.

"Baby..." he panted, his eyes finding the spot where precum had left a dark spot in the fabric.

You loved the way that he fell apart for you. He was in charge of so much, but when he walked into the door of your compound apartment, he dropped all the titles. He was just Steve who used to have asthma and high blood pressure and a heart condition.

Your fingers pulled at the band of his pants and he lifted his hips so you could get them and his underwear down around his thighs.

"Jesus Christ, I don't think I'll ever get used to that sight." It was more to yourself than anything else, but the way the vein on the underside of his cock bulged sent electricity up your spine. You gripped him tight, making eye contact with him so he could watch the way you let your spit dribble off your chin and onto your hand. That alone earned a shuddered breath from him.

"Baby, Doll, Princess, fuck, please..." The edge of the bench where he was white knuckling it whined under the pressure of his grip, steel threatening to cave in on itself.

His begging sent slick straight to your core and you couldn't hold back anymore. You flattened your tongue and ran it from base to tip, paying attention to his slit and the sweet, salty taste of his precum on your taste buds.

There was a distinct thump of skull meeting wall when Steve let his head fall back, his breathing already ragged. You turned your head to bite into his thigh, earning a high pitched groan from your bulky super soldier.

"Hey, eyes on me, handsome."

When Steve did bring his gaze back to you, you made sure he watched as your mouth sink slowly down his length, the satisfyingly full feeling of having him against the back of your throat pulling your own vibrating groan from you.

"Fuck, baby, I'm not gonna last long like this," you knew he was going to try to hold on as long as possible for you, but if he'd never gotten a blowjob before then you were surprised that he hadn't busted in your mouth already.

You smiled the best you could around his cock, laying your tongue out over your bottom teeth so you didn't accidentally catch his skin. Steve wasn't sure if it was the sight or the sounds that got him going more. The feeling was something completely out of this world, Bucky's description of how it felt didn't even do it justice, but there was something about seeing the most beautiful girl on her knees for him, listening to her slobber and choke on his cock that made it absolutely fucking ethereal.

"Baby, fuck, princess, goddamnit, please- m'gonna cum. Please god, faster...."

You could feel the muscles in Steve's thighs rolling under your hands, a testament to how hard he was trying to keep himself in check. You only found it amusing, because this was you going easy on him. When you looked up you could see the tears pricking at the edge of his eyes, knowing this had to be a painful kind of pleasure for him. So intensely good that it ached, that it set his muscles ablaze and crisped his nerve endings.

As your head came up, most of his length resting outside of your mouth, you took a steadying breath, your tongue swirling around his bulbous head to give him a second to re-center before you tore him apart. You tapped the back of his hand with a finger where he had it gripping the edge of the bench. He let go of the bench and let you drag his palm to the front of your throat.

Steve trained his gaze on his hand and your mouth, switching between the two rapidly, wondering what you could possibly be doing. You couldn't get the full form of your wicked smile out around his thick cock, but you didn't need to either.

You sank down fast and hard, shoving right past your gag reflex. The moment that Steve felt his own cock stretching your throat he let out a broken wail, rope after rope of his hot spend coating your insides.

"Fuuuck."

His hips jerked one, two, three times before his body went slack.

You pulled your lips off of him with a distinct pop, making sure to lick up any sticky residue left before pulling his underwear and sweatpants back up.

When you climbed back up onto the bench with him, he shifted his weight so that his head rested on your shoulder, his face glistening with sweat, America's Golden Boy rendered boneless by your mouth.

You leaned down and kissed his forehead, feeling the soft smile that spread across his face when he returned the kiss in the pliant skin of your neck.

"Happy Birthday, Stevie."

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the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis · 3 years

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please elaborate on your thoughts on imprinting re: new moon as promised in the tags (also i hope you're having a good day!)

thank you, i am having a pretty good day! also THANK YOU, i have so many Opinions about this.

tl;dwr: smeyer wrote jacob imprinting on renesmee in forever dawn, so the concept of imprinting always existed; i am however of the firm opinion that she did Not think to include imprinting in sam and emily’s dynamic when writing new moon. that was added in eclipse (presumably as she realized how batshit crazy jacob imprinting on renesmee was going to be, and tried to balance out her representation of it).

where did i get that idea?

well, first of all: imprinting comes in in Eclipse. it’s never mentioned in New Moon.

which is where how the series was written becomes important. Twilight was a fun wish-fulfillment thing, but smeyer got talked into publishing it by her sister. while it was floating around getting rejected, she started writing Forever Dawn: another fun wish-fulfillment about Bella and Edward getting married, having sex, bella giving birth...and, for some godforsaken reason, apparently Jacob still imprints on that daughter.

then Twilight gets picked up by a YA publisher...which throws smeyer for a loop. as she says: “Unintentionally, I’d written a young adult novel.”

(which is fucking hilarious to me. you wrote a story about a high-schooler falling in love with a high-school age vampire. in high school. did you...not think that was gonna be YA? they go to prom together.)

anyways. smeyer finishes Forever Dawn for fun, “knowing that it would never see the light of day,” sends it to her sister, and settles in to write the “real sequel,” New Moon. so it’s plausible that smeyer, writing New Moon, wasn’t too concerned with getting herself to the events of forever dawn, imprinting included.

now let’s dig into imprinting.

smeyer gives us her “inspiration” for imprinting in...several different places.

in The Illustrated Guide, she says:

“[In] A Midsummer Night‟s Dream...the heartbreak of people not loving the right people—which happens all the time—is made right in this glittery instant of fairy dust. ...That really is sort of where the imprinting idea came from, which existed in Forever Dawn (the original sequel to Twilight). And I introduced it earlier, so that it would be something already explained, and I wouldn’t have to go into it later.”

we also get this:

cool. (there’s a lot i could say about dehumanization, and basing dynamics in human romantic relationships on ducks. also why smeyer thinks suicide is the ultimate gesture of love. im gonna not.)

what i think is relevant is that in the guide, which came out in 2011, we get that kind of idea of imprinting as “fixing” romantic situations, but in earlier interviews, it’s based on distinctly non-romantic partnerships. and this kinda makes sense!

we know when she wrote Forever Dawn, the other wolf pack characters didn’t exist, so Jacob/Renesmee is the only imprint we had, and New Moon/Eclipse had never happened, so Jacob’s feelings for Bella were “just a crush,” not full-blown love.

so...that’s the original idea of imprinting, right? it’s not someone who’s been in the “wrong” romantic pairing magically finding the right person, it’s...kinda similar to ducks. (though i would guess that, bc it’s smeyer, there’s all sorts of implications of grooming from the start.)

and Sam and Emily’s relationship in new moon really doesn’t read like that to me! i mean, here:

“"Emily," he said, and so much love saturated his voice that I felt embarrassed, intrusive, as I watched him cross the room in one stride and take her face in his wide hands.”

“This was worse than any romantic movie; this was so real that it sang out loud with joy and life and true love.”

that doesn’t even read like other descriptions of imprinted couples. compare it to Jared and Kim in Eclipse:

“The way he stared at her! It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Like a collector finding an undiscovered Da Vinci, like a mother looking into the face of her newborn child.”

that’s a really different vibe to me! the way she describes the imprint is all-consuming, obsessive...and Sam and Emily get these really homey, genuine adjectives in their first descriptions.

then there’s Charlie’s new moon description of Emily getting hurt:

“‘Mauled by a bear, up north, during salmon spawning season—horrible accident. It was more than a year ago now. I heard Sam was really messed up over it.’”

which, at least to me, reads like Emily and Sam were dating at the time of the accident, right? but according to Eclipse/The Guide, they weren’t. this happened when Emily rejected Sam, and then they got together afterwards bc she felt bad about how bad he felt. (again, there’s a lot i could say. i’m just gonna. not.)

we also get Zero mention of its impact on Leah...which is weird given that Charlie is close to the Clearwaters.

(we also meet Leah in this book and get Zero angry/recently rejected vibes from her...she comes across as a really pretty teenage girl who likes talking to her friends on the phone. good for her!)

so yeah, i argue that smeyer didn’t think about imprinting when she was writing New Moon. then she got to Eclipse, presumably realized she was going to be able to publish her “happy ending” for Bella/Edward by reworking Forever Dawn, and then had that realization that she should introduce imprinting so she wouldn’t have to “go into it later.”

this leads to the fuckery of Quil&Claire, and, i argue, her spinning Sam/Emily as an imprinting situation, and adding in the Leah backstory to make it fit her whole “people fall in love with the wrong people but it gets fixed by fairy dust!” narrative. we get a nice imprinted couple (Jared & Kim), a “nice” imprinted couple (Sam & Emily, but there’s love triangle baggage), and an imprint on a toddler. we’ve covered all our bases for what Jacob/Renesmee is going to be. yippee.

this is, of course, a terrible way to write a series, but what can you do?

#anon i sure hope you wanted almost a thousand words about this #bc that's what i wrote!#also i kept this very rational and to what i can source #but there is part of me that thinks...hmm okay #smeyer *says* imprinting was in forever dawn initially #but forever dawn started as disconnected epilogues...so there was some time fuckery going on #and sometimes i wonder if jacob fell in love w renesmee...not imprinting? hopefully when she was not a baby?#and then smeyer had to come up with something to make her batshit ship work #esp after she wrote jacob being in love w bella #i don't know #that's harder to argue so i left it out lol

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hesther-mcg · 4 years

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fire lady

request: Could I maybe request a one shot where reader is Fire Lady🔥 (married to my boy Zuko hehehe) and how all of the gaang’s children love to be around her? Like, she’s their auntie and all that because I refuse to think that the children didn’t grew up seeing each other as family and loving all of their crazy aunts and uncles

pairing: zuko x female!reader

warnings: none, just some wholesome fluff

a/n: this is... so long. i have no self control lmao but i hope you like this! i hope it was what you were thinking of when you requested, but if it wasn’t just send in another fire lady reader request bc i would love to continue this!

fire lady, prequel fire lady, part one fire lady, part two

“Are you excited to see everyone?” You asked your daughter softly as you brushed her hair. She stood in front of you in the vanity chair, watching you in the mirror. Her grin matched your own, but her eyes were all Zuko.

“Yes!” Izumi cheered, little arms raising in the air. “When they get here, will you sit by the Turtle Duck pond with us?” She asked sweetly.

“Of course, my love,” you hummed, hands gathering the top part of her black hair in a topknot. “Should we go ahead and place an order for some fruit tarts? Bumi and Kya go nuts for them every time they’re here,” you chuckled.

She giggled at that, and hummed to herself as you finished securing the crown in her hair. “Alright, Princess, I think you’re good to go,” you stated, patting her on the bottom once while giving her room to jump down.

“Woohoo!” She yelled and hit the ground running, out of the room and racing down the corridor. You followed her, much slower, and asked a passing servant to send a large order of the Fire Nation desserts down to the kitchens. You were excited to see your friends, it had been awhile since you’d all found time to see one another, and you especially missed your nieces and nephews. You never knew your heart could be so scattered across a group of children, but here you were.

Upon entering the courtyard, you were greeted with the sweet sight of your husband reaching up to help little Kya down from Appa’s saddle while your daughter had her arms locked around Bumi in a tight embrace.

Aang and Katara slid off together and you made your way to them. “Long time, no see,” you greeted, and engulfed Katara in such a way that you’d been told not to do in the past. Your personality clashed with the Royal council, but the people of your nation loved you.

“Hey, (y/n).” Katara whispered in your ear as she rocked you slightly.

“Sweetie, let the rest of us see her,” Aang joked lightly, and you backed away only to be pulled into another hug, the airbender wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Hey, Aangy, how’ve you been?”

Bumi laughed from beside you and you when you looked at him he darted towards you. He collided with your midsection, arms wrapping around your waist. “Awe, Bumi, I missed you so much!” You ruffled his already wild hair.

“Aunt (y/n), can you take us for a ride on Uncle Zuko’s dragon?” He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes, full of adventure.

“Perhaps another day,” Zuko answered, coming up to join your little group with Izumi in one arm and Kya in the other.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you whispered to the Water Tribe girl, and she giggled as you placed a kiss on her cheek.

“(y/n), come meet my kid!” Toph shouted from a few feet away, and your heart skipped a beat. There was a pep in your step as you made your way over to her and Sokka, who held little Tenzin in one arm. And in the earthbenders arms was a little girl with green eyes and dark hair, and your heart was spread a little further. She already had a piece and she hadn’t even acknowledged you yet.

“Oh my goodness, and who is this?” You asked, reaching forward to wrap your arm around Toph’s shoulder, and she moved her daughter around in order to return the gesture.

“This is Lin,” you old friend answered and thrust the young girl towards you. Lin’s eyes widened and she stared at you in wonder as she sat in your arms.

“Hello, Lin, my name is (y/n),” you smiled at her and she eventually returned it. You could see Toph written all over this girl, and it warmed your heart tremendously. “Have you ever seen a Turtle Duck?” You asked animatedly, and reached your other arm out to take Tenzin, and make your way towards everyone else.

“Well, do I have a treat for you,” you continued when Lin didn’t answer.

“Is it fruit tarts?!” Kya shouted, jumping in place.

Izumi joined in as she answered with her own shout. “Yes! They’re in the garden waiting for us in the garden!”

Bumi gasped and looked to his mother and father before returning his gaze to you. “Can we go, Aunt (y/n)? Please?”

“Yeah, please,” Tenzin echoed sweetly and you rubbed your cheek against the top of his little bald head.

“You took the plans right out of my head, Bumi! How do you always do that?” You shook your head and didn’t miss the proud look that overcame the young boy’s face.

“Alright, misfits,” you addressed loudly. “To the gardens, for fruit tarts and Turtle Ducks!” And began your march through the palace, three children trotting behind you, and the semi-domesticated Fire Ferret you insisted on letting wander the palace freely, followed not too far behind.

“What’s that?” Lin spoke for the first time since meeting you, the words jumbling together. You glanced at her, and noticed her pointing over your shoulder. When your eyes landed on the small red animal, you grinned.

“That’s my friend, he lives here with us; though Izumi and I seem to be the only people who like him.” You chuckled, and continued your trek to the outside gardens, it wasn’t too much farther.

“Hey! Daddy doesn’t mind him,” Izumi called, pausing to let the Fire Ferret jump onto her shoulders. She’d heard her father repeat those words a hundred times, whenever the creature would find his way inside and he was forced to stop anyone that attempted to shoo him away.

“That’s right,” you agreed, breaking through the threshold where the corridor opened to the outside, the sound of the fountain filling the space and the smell of flowers floating through the air. Just as you stepped out, a servant was placing multiple trays of fruit tarts on the table that was set up for this specific reason.

“We made it just in time!” Izumi shouted and grabbed Kya by the wrist and pulled her forward.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head slightly to the woman who brought you the treats, and she smiled at you. She lowered her body in respect before hastily retreating from the garden, and your heart sunk just a bit at her speedy exit.

“Why’d that lady leave so fast?” Bumi asked as he reached for a fruit tart.

“A lot of the people who work in the palace are still a little scared that Uncle Zuko and I will be like the Royals before us,” you answered honestly and you sat on the bench, Lin and Tenzin situating themselves on your lap. “But we try to let them know by showing them that those times are over, because why?”

“Actions speak louder than words!” Your daughter answered with a mouthful, and you chuckled at her. That was a lesson that you worked hard to instill in her.

“That’s right, Princess,” you nodded as the little monk in your lap handed you one of the desserts. Your heart felt full, sitting in the most magical place you knew of, surrounded by all the children you were so blessed to know and love. You were even more blessed that they loved you; every time ‘Aunt (y/n)’ left one of their mouths it felt like music to your ears. They reminded you so greatly of yourself and the Gaang, and you would do anything for them.

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

pink lemonade

A/n: I...had a cliche moment of I wrote this and it got deleted bc my computer had a hissy fit while I was trying to find a good pic to use. All I want to say is that I spent weeks agonizing over this piece because I wasn’t sure that it was good enough and that it touched on bi!reader as much as it should. I started it out in Harry’s POV and it kind of just took off from there. This is very heavily based off a song from one of my favorite bands. It’s called pink lemonade by the wombats and it really gave me inspiration to write this whole fic and for my reader and flatmate!h. I hope that I did this justice, because as a bi woman, I know how little representation we get in media and in fics. So thank you to the beautiful @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines for hosting a challenge that made me feel included. I really appreciate and love you both so much!

warnings: smut, drug use mention, angst, harry’s pov

word count: 4.3k+

Please enjoy and feel free to tell me what you think!

Friday Night

Harry remembers the day he met his flatmate.

She was a little shorter than him, but her personality definitely made her seem much taller. She had her hair up in a messy bun, her Rolling Stones shirt tucked in, and her jeans cuffed at the bottom. She introduced herself to him with a dazzling smile and a witty joke about being a stereotypical bisexual being. It made him laugh, pulling her into a hug (after asking her permission) because they were going to be flatmates and she needed to know he was a hugger. He didn’t want to start off on an awkward note with a person he would be spending so much time with. He suggested they order some pizza and drink wine on the floor of their living room on their first night.

Their furniture hadn’t been delivered or moved in yet, so they had to settle for putting a few of y/n’s pillows under their bums while they watched comedy specials on Harry’s laptop. A majority of their evening was spent giggling and sharing stories about their previous experiences with old girlfriends. He found it oddly comforting that the beautiful girl was a little bit different, because he had always felt that way in life. With her, he didn’t feel so alone in being different. Perhaps that was one of the things that made him fall in love with her. She was a bright, radiant soul that brought him more joy than anyone else ever had. But she could be a bit thick, sometimes.

As he watched her prance around their apartment in her tight mini-dress, he tried his best not to let her see his obvious attraction to her.

The pillow on his lap would seem obvious to just about anyone else, but not to his precious flatmate. She practically floated through life, oblivious to how people looked at her when she moved. She was like a walking porn ad, her beautiful hair and gorgeous smile nearly impossible to ignore. He tried not to focus too hard on what she was wearing, but christ, it was hard not to. Her legs looked a little longer due to the black heeled booties she’d put on and she was most definitely wearing tights with little sparkles in the fabric.

He hated seeing her dressed up like this, knowing that he wouldn’t be the one sliding his hands up her dress in the backseat of the taxi on the way home. He wouldn’t be the one gripping at her thighs while she straddled him on their shared couch. He wouldn’t be the one making her scream, unable to contain herself as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of her. He hated that she was wearing the perfect shade of red on her lips, a shade that painted the walls of the prison cell in his own personal hell inside. He wanted to smear it off her lips with his own, kissing her until she was breathless and begging.

Instead, he flipped through the channels on the telly, pretending to pay attention.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out, Harry?” She stood in front of him, pouting her lips out as she tilted her head to the side. He shook his head as she crossed her arms, the gesture pushing her breasts up just a little. Fuck me, Harry thought. “You love going out!”

“I know, love.” He grumbled, glancing behind her as if she was in the way. “But I’m not really in the mood to party tonight and I don’t want to bring the mood down.”

“Well, I don’t feel right going out without you.” She sighed, dropping her arms to the side, causing Harry to look up at her. “Maybe I should stay home? We can order takeout and-”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “You have a date. You can’t stand him up!”

“He’s just some rando from Tinder, I really don’t care about his feelings.,H.” She snorted out a laugh, rolling those perfect eyes as he tried to fight off a smile. “I’d rather be with you if you’re feeling down.”

“Don’t give up the chance for a good time because I’m a grumpy old man.” He shook his head. “I really want you to go out.”

“Okay, okay.” She let out a heavy exhale, stepping farther away. “How do I look?”

“Perfect.” He didn’t tear his eyes away from the telly, knowing he would overshare if he actually looked at her right now.

“You didn’t even look!” She laughed around a playful groan. “Boys.”

“I’m a man, love!” He called out as she walked into the kitchen for her keys. “If you’re too drunk, call me. Don’t go home with your random tinder date and-”

“Lock the door when I’m home.” She nodded. “I know the rules, dad.”

“Please do not ever call me that again.” Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “Go, get out of here and go have some fun. Tell everyone I said hi.”

“I will!” She smiled. “Bye, roomie!”

“Bye!” He waved, his heart sinking as the door shut behind her. “Guess I’ll be having a sad wank about that later.”

Harry grumbled, sinking further into the cushions of their shared couch.

******************************************

Saturday Morning

The guy from Friday seemed to be a keeper.

He was there the next morning when Harry was making a hangover breakfast in the kitchen for his flatmate. He strutted in without a shirt or a word, reaching for a coffee cup as if he owned the place. Last time Harry checked, only two people paid rent here. Harry watched from the stove, spatula in hand as he glared at the man’s back. What a sodding prick. With a quick roll of his eyes, Harry pushed around the potatoes he’d chopped up earlier. Of course she brought him home. It had been weeks since she’d had a proper shag and it was bound to happen sooner or later. And even if Harry hated to admit it, the man standing in his kitchen gave it to her proper. Harry closed his eyes, cringing at memory of her moans melded with the banging of her headboard against the wall last night.

He hadn’t heard her moan out like that in a long time. Halfway through orgasm number two out of god knows how many, Harry shoved his headphones in and tried not to cry. He hated that someone else was making her feel so good that she was screaming the bloody walls down. He wanted to sink into her, to have her screaming out his name instead. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not even in his dreams could he have her, always cutting off right around the time his hands landed on her hips.

“Oh, didn’t see you there, mate.” The guy turned around. “M’Alfie.”

“Harry.” He grumbled, reaching up to the heat down. “Y/N’s roommate.”

“She told me about you.” Alfie nodded. “Said you’re a right laugh when you’re drinking.”

“Did she now?” Harry hummed as if he was actually interested in the conversation.

“Shame you didn’t come out with us.” Alfie said. “Y/N was a fucking animal. Have you ever had sex with her? I mean she’s amazing when she’s high.”

Harry wanted to vomit.

This guy was a total prick.

“Yeah, what a shame.” Harry cleared his throat, glancing over at Alfie. “When Y/N wakes up, let her know that breakfast is here. She’s going to want two pieces of toast with butter.”

“I will tell her.” Alfie sipped out of the bright pink mug and Harry’s face grew hot. That was his mug, the one that Y/N got him for Christmas last year. The little lamb on the front with a comical smile was mocking him now. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, I’m stellar.”

Harry stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall.

He nearly made it to his door when she stumbled out of her bedroom.

“Morning, Harry.” She yawned before smiling at her roommate.

He didn’t respond, ducking past her and into his bedroom.

Maybe he didn’t really know the girl he loved after all.

*******************************

Another Magical Friday Night

Alfie, as it turns out, wasn’t a keeper.

During their second escapade, Alfie shouting to the top of his lungs pulled Harry out of his half-asleep state. His heart sank and his blood ran cold as he sprinted out of his bedroom to Y/N’s. When he got there, Alfie was storming out of her bedroom, half dressed with a red face. Harry stood in Y/N’s doorway, avoiding her gaze as she struggled to put a t-shirt on. After a few moments, Harry couldn’t stand to hear her soft whimpers and loud sniffles. He tore his own shirt off, walking over to where she was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her.

“S’alright,” He cooed, sitting down in front of her as he slipped his shirt over her head. “It’s okay, love.”

“I’m sorry we woke you up.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the column of his throat as she cried. “I know you have an early yoga class tomorrow.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He said softly, rubbing his hand over her back. “Tell me what he did?”

“He didn’t do anything.” She shook her head, pulling back as she wiped at her cheeks. “I just...Alfie dabbles a bit in drugs and I tried some with him last week, but I didn’t like it. I told him I didn’t want to do it again and he called me a whore and a tease.”

Harry’s jaw tensed as he watched his best friend hiccup, swiping under her eyes again.

“You are not a whore.” Harry reached up, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, demanding her attention. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you need to be ashamed of yourself.”

“Thank you.” She sniffled. “Sleep with me tonight?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Let’s go to my room instead, okay?”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her he couldn’t sleep in her bed right now.

Not after Alfie had been in it.

“Okay.” She gave him a wavering smile. “Thank you, H.”

“Anytime.”

Harry held her that night, his heart pounding against his chest as she cuddled into him.

As he drifted off, he mumbled out loud, “This must be what heaven feels like.”

He hoped she didn’t hear him.

****************************

Harry decided that if Y/N was going out this Friday, he was too.

He couldn’t stand the thought of her going out without him by her side after last week’s incident with Alfie. There was no Tinder date for her to meet up with, just Harry and a few other friends who wanted to have a good time. They got ready in their shared bathroom together, pre-gaming with whatever they had left as they sang loudly to Harry’s pre-game playlist. When she spritzed her perfume over her neck, Harry’s mouth started to water.

The warm vanilla and citrus hybrid was damn near a love potion to him.

“Alright,” She nodded, giving herself a once over in the mirror. “I’m ready.”

“You look perfect.” He smiled, trailing his eyes up from her vegan, leather combat boots to her black skinny jeans, finally settling on the lacy bodysuit that she had recently purchased. “S’a bit like lingerie, innit it?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged her shoulders, pursuing her lips as Harry looked at her eyes. “But it’s nice and light and extremely sexy.”

“One of those nights?” Harry’s brows quirked up and he forced a little smirk to settle on his lips as she nodded. “Good, you deserve a bit of fun.”

And he actually meant it, this time.

She did deserve to have a little fun after Alfie

He could suck it up for one night if the girl he loved would be happy at the end of it.

“I do.” She giggled, reaching down to grab the bottle of tequila set on the bathroom countertop, wiggling it around. “One more shot for good luck?”

“Pour it up.”

*****************************

Harry bucked his hips up as the girl above him rolled her hips over his denim clad cock.

This time, he brought someone home.

Granted, Y/N brought someone home as well, he now had a distraction to keep his mind busy and his cock wet while his flatmate got off. The girl he’d met at the club was so sweet, her hazel eyes enticing him the moment his gaze met hers. Her lips were so soft and they tasted like strawberries. He wondered what Y/N tasted like? They were normally covered in gloss when she went out, shiny and peachy. Did her lips taste like peach? Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the girl dug her nails into his stomach.

“Can I take your pants off?” She asked, timid and soft. Nothing like Y/N demanding the naughtiest of things on the other side of the wall. “I’m ready to...I want to ride you.”

“Okay, yeah.” Harry opened his eyes, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around her. He pressed a few soft kisses over her jaw before catching her mouth in his. “Just a second, love.”

“You’re sweet.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, swinging her leg over his thighs as he reached for his buttons.

“Fuck, yes!”

Harry rolled his eyes, fumbling with the zipper on his trousers as the girl next to him slapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“She’s loud.” She giggled, reaching down to start working on her heels.

“I know.” Harry sighed. “I’m really sorry about that. I...I didn’t know she would be bringing someone-”

“Right there, y/n! Yes baby yes!”

“Jesus.” He let out a huff, reaching his hand up to tap the wall with his fist. “Oi, other people are trying to have fun here.”

“Oh my god.” The girl tossed her head back, barking out a laugh. “You don’t have to do that, it’s fine.”

“Sorry, H.” Y/N called back. “We’ll keep it down.”

“I just don’t want to ruin the mood for us.” He shuffled out of his jeans and boxers, tossing them to the side before he looked back at her.

“I’m okay.” She climbed on top of him again, her shoes now tossed aside and her dress hiked up to her hips. “I really, really don’t care about anything else but fucking you right now.”

“Oh.” Harry’s cheeks were surely tinged pink as she gripped his cock in her hand, stroking up with gentle movements. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Good.” She leaned forward, pressing her free hand to his shoulder. He fell back onto the mattress, dropping his hands to her thighs. “I promise I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you won’t even know there’s anyone else in the world besides me.”

Harry dropped his head back, digging his nails into her thighs as she lined herself up with his cock. It had been so long since he’d fucked anyone, his emotions for Y/N a huge cock-block that he couldn’t seem to shake. Other girls just didn’t do it for him anymore. But tonight, the alcohol in his veins and the vision of Y/N nearly fingering some girl in the back of the club reminded him that he was free to fuck whoever he wanted, despite his love for Y/N.

“Y/N!”

Harry let out a heavy sigh through his nose, the sound of Y/N’s one night stand screaming making the fire in his belly dim just a little. He didn’t even care that his own girl was sinking onto his cock, soaking wet and tight like a vice. He barely even remembered that she was on top of him until she moaned his name out.

He opened his eyes, watching her face contort as she settled onto his thighs.

“You’re huge.” She whispered, tilting her head back. “I swear I’ve never had...never had someone so big, fuck.”

“Yeah?” He licked over his bottom lip, sliding a palm up to her belly. “Feel me there?”

“Mhm.” She whimpered, gripping onto his wrist. “M’so full.”

“Y/N, please let me cum.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, reaching his hands up to rub over his face.

“Are they bothering you?” The girl asked softly, lifting off of his cock. “Because it seems like they are.”

“A little, yeah.” Harry nodded, wincing as his cock slapped against his stomach. “I’m really sorry, it’s not that you aren’t amazing-”

“I get it, it’s okay.” She fell next to him as his cock started to soften. “I would be kind of wigged out if my roommate was fucking while I was too.”

“She does this every Friday night.” Harry said. “And...not to continue ruining whatever we had going between us, but I’m kind of in love with her.”

“Oh.” The girl whispered. “That would really turn me off.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “And I was trying to have fun for once, you know? Because she seems to go about life oblivious to my feelings and I’m stuck pining for her while she’s fucking whoever she wants to.”

“Do you think she knows that you like her?” His date asked.

“I don’t know, probably not.” He mumbled, turning his head to look at her. “You don’t have to listen to me moan on about it, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” She turned on her side, pressing her palm to his chest. “I have a feeling you haven’t talked to anyone about this and it’s not very healthy to keep things bottled up.”

“You’re right about that.” Harry smiled. “You know, I have a friend who would absolutely adore you.”

“Is it Y/N?” She giggled. “Because I don’t swing that way.”

“Oi, you think I’d let you shag the girl I just told you I’m in love with?” He laughed, his brows crinkling together as he reached over to pinch her hip. “It’s not her.”

“Good.” She laughed with Harry, sliding closer to him. “Would it be weird if I stay?”

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s the least I can do after wasting your time.”

“And...what about a cuddle?” She asked. “Because I do enjoy a good cuddle session.”

“I can deal with that, I think.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. “Thank you.”

*****************************

The next morning, Harry was livid.

He sent his date, Halle was her name, off with a sweet kiss and a coffee to-go. Maybe in another life, she would have been perfect for him. A soft, sweet girl with kind eyes and a willingness to listen to him. Unfortunately for him, he was too far up his obnoxious flatmate’s ass to see anyone else. And even if it made things awkward between them, he had to tell her how he felt. There was no way he could keep going on like this if there was a way to prevent it.

“Good morning,” She chirped, her hand linked with the girl she brought home last night. “Are we having breakfast?”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want.” Harry snapped, taking his coffee mug and his breakfast plate from the counter. “I don’t care.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped and the girl’s eyes grew wide.

Harry didn’t say another word, walking past the two girls.

He hated being a dick, but lashing out made him feel the tiniest bit better about what happened last night. He pushed his bedroom door open with his hip, settling back into bed as he flicked through his options on Netflix. He wasn’t even thinking of Y/N, his mind struggling to remember whether or not he’d seen the last episode of the Great British Bake-Off. When he realized that he hadn’t, clicking on the title to start the episode, his bedroom door flew open and his roommate stormed in.

“Fuck you!” She snapped, reaching for his remote, standing in front of his bed with a scowl on her perfect lips. “I don’t know who pissed in your cheerios this morning, but you don’t get to talk to me like that! Especially not in front of guests.”

“Okay.” Harry shrugged. “Can I have my remote-”

“No, you can’t!” She shouted, tossing her hands up as she let out a noise crossed between a groan and a growl. “What’s your deal?”

“I haven’t exactly finished my coffee, love.” Harry was trying not to relish in the sight of his roommate frustrated and adorable. The feeling she was experiencing now was a fraction of what he felt every time he heard her through the wall. “Maybe come back later?”

“Are you upset because I fucked someone last night and you didn’t?” Her brows shot up. “I know you didn’t cum last night and neither did the girl you brought home. Are you mad because you’re shit in bed?”

“Maybe we were quiet. You know, decent and considerate of other people,” The smile he gave her was sarcastic. “Or maybe- and this is a good one- maybe, I had a girl sitting on my cock, ready to fuck me so bloody good I would cry, but I couldn’t let her because all I could think about was how much I love you. ”

“What?” She asked, her mouth falling ajar.

“Maybe when I was kissing her at the club, I was thinking about kissing you.” He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand, continuing on. “And maybe when I had my fingers in her cunt, I was thinking about you. And maybe, just maybe, every time you fuck someone so loud that it keeps me up at night, I wish it was me instead.”

She didn’t say anything, watching as Harry moved forward. He snagged the remote from her hand, proud of his little confession. He turned the show back on, ignoring his roommate as she stood there with her eyes wide. He smirked, crossing his legs before he settled his hand on his stomach.

“You process that and I’m just gonna watch Noel and Paul bicker.” Harry said.

“You’re an asshole.” She whispered. “You...you can’t just be upset with me because I didn’t know that you liked me.”

“I’m not upset with you,” He said. “I’m a little upset that I was trying to have a good time for once and you ruined it with you and your girl’s pornstar moaning, but I’m not upset with you. That would be extremely unfair of me.”

“Why have you never said anything?” She cleared her throat, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized shirt. “We’ve been roommates for years, Harry.”

“Because I love you as a friend, too.” He started. “I didn’t want to risk it.”

“And now?” She squeaked out. “You’re willing to risk it now?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m tired of wishing that it was me on the other side of this wall, Y/N. So...take some time to think about what I said and let me know if you’d be willing to give it a try. No hard feelings if you don’t want the same thing, I completely understand and I’ll respect your choice either way. We’ll just have to work out some arrangement where you let me know when you have someone-”

“I want to try.” She said quickly, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “Because I really like you, Harry. Like, the only reason I’ve brought so many people back home with me is because I couldn’t have you. I knew that there was no way in hell you would like a girl like me. I’m obnoxious and boisterous and just...I didn’t think I was your type.”

“You’re kidding?” His brows shot up. “You thought...oh my god, we’re both bloody idiots.”

“You’re telling me.” She laughed, falling on her ass in front of him. “This whole time I’ve been fucking people that loudly to make you jealous and the entire time you’ve been listening, imaging it was you?”

“I guess so.” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that leaves us with two options.”

“And what might those be?” She asked, a soft smile settling on her lips.

“I take you out for brunch, maybe a nice walk in the park, and then I bring you home and fuck you so hard you won’t even remember the orgasms you had last night.” He lifted one finger up, smiling as he watched her inhale sharply. “Or option two, I fuck you now and we go to brunch later?”

“Wouldn’t it just be lunch by then?” She tilted her head to the side, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. “I mean...that defeats the purpose, yeah?”

“Really, that’s-” Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re missing the point.”

“I’m not.” She leaned forward, sliding her hands over his thighs. “I see it clear as day.”

“And what does your heart tell you to do?” He licked over his bottom lip as she moved closer, her nose nearly bumping against his.

“To take you up on option two.” She whispered. “Because it’s really not fair that I came five times last night and you didn’t come, not even once.”

“Fuck.” Harry sputtered out as she brushed her lips over his. “Kiss me?”

She pressed her lips into his, moving his body back onto his pillows. She moved over him, straddling his thighs as she deepened the kiss. When her tongue slipped over his bottom lip, his mouth fell open in response. His hands fell to her hips, digging into the soft flesh as his mind tried to catch up. The girl of his dreams was sitting on his lap, in his bed, and she wanted him. She wanted him just as bad as he wanted her. He couldn’t believe that this was happening, sure that he was just a fever dream or a nightmare that he would wake up from any second. But he was brought back to reality when her tongue slipped over his.

And at that moment, Harry knew he was right.

She did taste like peach.

#hsbificathon

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jq37 · 4 years

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The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 13 Family Ties

Regroup

Welcome back to Candia, y’all.

As the cast tries to get a handle on their giggles from whatever shenanigans happened off-screen between episodes, the PCs land back at the monastery of the Spinning Star. All the rescued civilians are grateful and the monks help to patch them up. The group is a little worried their enemies will follow them through the standing stones but only a high level Candian magic user would be able to do that so they’re probably fine. They also learn that all the weapons they stole are basically +1 to attack magical items--not useful to them but maybe for their allies.

Spearia tends to Joren (and we’re cursed with the phrase “wrist milk”) and then goes Full Mom Mode on Liam with a several minutes long hug. Theo joins the hug so he can ask Spearia if she knows any other Druids that could do that transportation (she doesn’t know of any in Buzzybrook but there could always be others she doesn’t know about) which turns into a discussion about the SPF. Ruby thinks the SPF is on their side but the others are more wary and Rina, as before, is specifically against her. She says the SPF gets her powers from the Bulb and the sharp division between the two is just a kind of distraction from the bigger issue. Ruby calls it a conspiracy theory (though Theo says Lazuli believed something similar) and stalks off. Amethar runs after her but, en route, stops to have a conversation with Joren.

He tells Joren that Rina is queen now and that he (as in both of them really) need to start doing the smart thing and not just the tough thing. Joren razzes him about the new attitude until Amethar says that Jet is dead which turns him sympathetic and basically gets him on board--it’s not the fight Liam was anticipating. He says that they’re gonna have to make a big show about recognizing Rina if this is gonna work and asks if they have any allies who can vouch. Amethar says the Dairy Islands are with them and they have a crazy plan that involves getting the Book of Leaves (St. Citrina’s Lasso of Truth book).

Theo runs to catch up with Joren and Amethar but, on the way there, catches Ruby and says they need to stick together. Then the three guys go and find Rina. They basically bend the knee to her and say they’re at her service. Rina is not as excited as you might think though. She accepts the endorsement while barely holding back tears, saying that she’s aware the support doesn’t come with enthusiasm but she appreciates it all the same. Then she goes with Gooey back to her contingent of followers to celebrate with them, not seeming like she’s in a celebratory mood at all.

Cumulus and Liam have gone to the library of the monastery to try and dig into the info they grabbed during the fight and Ruby goes to talk to Liam. She confides in him that she thinks this plan sucks because even if they are able to get Rina onto the throne, it still means they win on the terms of their enemies. They’re still working within the system and the people who killed Jet and killed Preston don’t pay for anything. Liam says he’s still super down for killing all of these people and he really doesn’t think the plan is gonna work. He thinks it’s going to end in war either way. They try to decipher the map but it’s hard and they recruit the monks to help work on it overnight.

Snicker-Snack talks to Cumulus and says--echoing his own thoughts--that Rina is crazy powerful and a possible heir to Lazuli’s title of Archmage. He wonders if they should swear themselves to her the way they were sworn to Lazuli. Cumulus thinks it might be a good idea and Snicker-Snack says that it’s Cumulus’s call since he’s the most senior monk.

Theo finds Rina again and asks if she thinks they’re in danger of getting ambushed by the SPF. Rina (after getting a head shake from Brennan) says no, not this night but she is worried that the SPF is working with the Bulb. She and her guys will be up all night keeping watch (and partying) so he can, “Go back to [his] family.”

Brain Food

In the morning, the monks have finished looking through all of the info the PCs stole last episode which means it’s time for a good old fashioned info dump. There’s a lot happening so I broke it into sections:

Military Movements

The south of Candia has been totally taken over by Calroy and his guys. He’s fully posted in Castle Candy and every state except for the Dairy Islands has recognized him as a legitimate ruler.

The only non-traitor Candian troops are basically all at the Great Stone Candy Mountains (bc they were on route to help Jawbreaker).

As in Ruby’s vision from Lazuli, the invasion of Castle Candy did fall apart due to discord. Specifically, it was a mix of Plumbeline’s troops and Bulbian troops and because the Pontifex held the position that there could be no Concord without all of the states of the OG Concord under the terms of the OG agreement (meaning including Candia) Plumbeline said, “Fine. If there’s no Concord, there’s no reason I have to help you,” and she withdrew her troops.

So, to be clear, Calroy did a coup. The Imperial soldiers that are there are not there to invade Candia. They’re there doing peacekeeping stuff. The non-Imperial bread soldiers are Ciabatta’s men--he went home post spy session with the girls and used the info he stole to assassinate all the obstacles between him and being dictator for life and then decided an invasion of Candia was a good way to keep the peoples’ approval. Candia was picked for no reason other than it was a sitting duck due to all the other insane stuff that’s going on (chief or which is loss of Concord protection). And the church is there cause...actually, let me start another heading for this because it’s a doozy.

The Bulbian Church

The Pontifex has decided that the Ramsian Doctrine is in full effect. The reason they’re in Candia is because they’ve called a crusade.

Kerradin has a fancy new title--Mace of the Faith--and is leading it.

She’s called open season on all Candians--not just soldiers, literally anybody. She’s calling for a full genocide. The church’s policy is, if you kill a Candian, your soul is saved. If you destroy Candian standing stones, your soul and your family’s souls are saved. It’s real chilling shit.

There’s been pushback from bishops and archbishops about the policy--obviously Candian ones but from other countries as well--saying that they can’t support this and please can she reconsider (they can’t really be more forceful than that without risking being killed themselves).

Calroy, sensing the way the wind is blowing, has sent out an official statement saying that he renounced his pagan ways and wants to be re-baptized into the Bulbian faith.

We learn that the reason the Pontifex is being difficult with Plumbeline about the technicalities of the Concord agreement and why it can’t just be back on is because she wants to stay in limbo for as long as possible so she has a chance to also call a crusade against the Meatlands--both for being so openly pagan and for the killing of Archbishop Raddica (mentioned in I think episode 3).

There was a lot of money that the crew ignored while looting last episode and that was money to be used to pay Meatlander mercenaries apparently.

Group Dynamics

So Calroy is kind of courting all three camps here. As I said before, he’s agreeing with the crusade and saying he wants to be baptized to court the church.

Cal is also saying to Ceresia that a crusade is needed to cleanse Candia and a new Concord could be formed if Ceresia were to conquer it and make it a part of Ceresia. Ciabatta in an intercepted letter says that Cal could possibly be governor of Candia as a province of Cersia--exactly what he wants.

Whenever Calroy talks about the new Concord, he mentions a Concordant *Empress* who could be anyone, which also gives Plumbeline what she wants. He’s basically like that Always Sunny clip about playing both sides so he always comes out on top.

Everyone is planning a meeting to talk about logistics and a new Concord and all that but Ciabatta doesn’t want to meet in Comida or Vegetania after the whole deal with his name being spoken and rejected by the Book of Leaves. Cal has opened Castle Candy as a meeting place.

The Pontifex is bringing Kerradin and guards to protect her and the Book of Leaves to make sure there’s no funny business happening (ie: Cal conspiring privately with Plumbeline or something).

And, to be clear, none of these people seem to like or trust each other. It’s all a matter of being able to use each other for mutual benefit. There’s lots of evidence of discord and resentment. [To that point, here is some very dope art.]

Misc.

The various baddies haven’t been able to figure out watersteel--it seems that Alfredi left something out of her notes and took the secret to her grave. They did figure out the bread constructs though as we saw last episode.

There are notes about the Sanctus Putris which is a church doctrine that runs counter to the Ramsian Doctrine and it says that to keep the Hungry One at bay, there has to be a certain level of rot in the world.

There is a letter between Onionpatch and the Sanctus Putris dudes saying that they have located the home of the SPF (the Ice Cream Temple) and will get there tomorrow (as in tmrw from their POV).

Finally, rumors of Rina are floating around and the policy is basically, “Who cares if she exists or if she’s legit or not? If you see her, kill her.” So Emily has gone from being a huge target to...being a huge target. That’s what happens when you play two heir apparents in a row.

And deep exhale. That was A Lot.

Gameplan

Joren thinks the best plan is to get all their armies together and publicly take the knee to Rina at Manylicks to help legitimize her. Ruby, again, is against this plan because it would mean, at least on paper, being on the same side as Ciabatta. Spearia gets where she’s coming from but says it’s just to get things settled and they can always leave the Concord again once they’re back in control.

Gooey brings up the meeting everyone is gonna be at and Liam suggests getting someone from the Meatlands there so they can force the Pontifex to say on the Book of Leaves that they’re her next target, winning them an ally. Rina pipes up that she has allies in the Meatlands so maybe she can help arrange that. Jawbreaker also wants to just spread the word that Rina exists to make things more politically complicated and give the Dairy Islands (and possibly the Meatlands) a legit reason to side with them/stop the Imperials since the Concord will be back on.

Rina, unprompted, says again that she doesn’t care about the throne, she’s just anti-Bulb and pro magic. Cara and Ruby kinda glance at each other while that is going on.

At this point, Jawbreaker is fully on board with her and toasts to her as queen. Liam warns her about the target on her back but she says she grew up abused by Bulbian nuns. She can handle herself. Cumulus also officially pledges the service of the Spinning Star monks to her. She’s just picking up allies left and right.

Anyway, Jawbreaker, Spearia, and the rescued townsfolk plan to go for Manylicks to rally the troops. Spearia asks for an escort so they send Jack and his sailors to protect them. Before they leave, Liam has a heart to heart with his dad about how war changes you and forcing yourself to be hard so others get to be soft in which Joren finally calls him the correct name.

Cumulus thinks that, if a crusade is happening, the monastery will be a big target so it makes sense for the monks to gather the artifacts and hang with Rina’s marauders for a bit. They also decide to disassemble the teleportation circle once they leave so they’re more secure.

Ruby and Amethar are up on the parapets of the monastery kinda doing that thing where you’re not fully talking but just being like, “*Huge Sigh*”/”Yeahhhhh” with someone you’re close to. Cara shows up and says she’s going with Jawbreaker and his people to Manylicks while the PCs go for the Ice Cream Temple. Ruby asks how long she’s known magic and Cara says Lazuli taught her. Ruby asks why she never taught them and Cara says she was going to when they matured but since they never did, she didn’t want to give them more tools to run away with. Ruby says maybe they wouldn’t have run away so much if she’d trusted them. Cara basically takes psychic damage from that and Rina, who is near enough that she can see what’s happening, catches her attention for some sympathetic eye contact because she knows what that feels like.

Amethar asks for a moment alone with Ruby and apologies for having been a bad dad. Ruby protests that he hasn’t been one but he insists that he has and says that he hasn’t known what to do to help her process Jet’s death. Ruby says it’s not his fault and there’s nothing he can do. The fact of the matter is she was never alone and now she’ll always be alone. Amethar says that’s not true. She won’t be alone because he’s there for her and Jet still is too, though in a different way. He can’t stand watching her push her friends away at every turn. He asks her to please, just be here with them. Ruby breaks down a little and says that she had to run away as the most important person in the world to her died and the only way she can even begin to live with that is by getting revenge. Oh don’t worry, Amethar says. They will be killing *all* of those people.

Sickly Sweet

The team to raid the Ice Cream Temple is comprised of the PCs plus Swifty, Jon Bon, and Gooey (who is having some mutually confusing dom/sub sexual tension with Theo which is a sentence I hate to type but posterity is the main goal here so I don’t have much of a choice now do I). They teleport as close as they can (the monks disassembling the teleportation mechanism once they get there) and then it’s still another 2-3 hours to get there. It’s very cold, like the Himalayas and everyone takes cold damage just by being there. Rina (Invisible) and Cumulus (tied to a rope held by Theo) are up front to try and keep everyone else from triggering traps as they walk up the steps.

They eventually come upon gates in front of an arch and a hallway with a huge locked doorway in front of it. And there is a symbol of a huge spoon in front of the door. Rina passes Winterscoop in front of it and it opens. They follow her down the hallway and Cumulus triggers a trap when he takes point but Rina, holding Winterscoop, learns that if she takes the lead, she auto-disarms the traps.

As they walk down the hall, Rina sees the eyes of the SPF and hears her voice in her head, “I can’t see you, but I know you’re here.” The SPF says the temple was made by those like her (Rina) but she (the SPF) is the only one who’s been there for quite some time and her pupils narrow to slits.

Amethar sees an image of Saphria who says, “Long way from home, brother,” before disappearing.

Because of how well lit the hallway is, Ruby currently has no shadow.

Liam, as they walk, smells a quick whiff of hot chocolate and cinnamon.

They get to the end of the hallway which branches off into three directions: there’s a staircase going up to a door (marked with the Sucrosi symbol for the SPF which Ruby recognizes because Laz shows up as a quick vision and tells her and Theo recognizes as having appeared in the sky before the battle that killed Laz--Rina also recognizes it and it is the SPF’s actual name, not one of her titles, so it seems possibly magically significant), to the right there’s some weird combo of illusion and conjuration magic which makes them think that there’s a combo of true things and tricks and like maybe some of the stuff they’ve been seeing out of the corners of their eyes as they’ve traveled would be there, and to the left there’s a locked door marked armory.

Ruby uses her thieves' tools and Mage Hand to get the armory door open and it turns out it’s actually a library (which everyone but Theo is disappointed about). Inside, they find a book in Bulbosi that’s filled with with ancient spirits of the other realms--the Jolly Giant, the Hamburger Helper, and (at Emily’s prompting) Wonder Bread. It’s basically a checklist of magical spirits from the other kingdoms that the church has destroyed and further proof that Candia isn’t more inherently magical than anyplace else. They’ve just fought to protect their magic.

On the last page, there’s again mention of the Dracoria Azucar with an inverted symbol of the SPF covered in spikes and surrounded by magic and then in the middle of the page a chocolate egg which Rina tells Liam is what they’re there for.

The book suddenly slams shut and flies away. Outside, they hear the door at the top of the stairs open. They get out and walk up the stairs into this chamber at the heart of the mountain. It's a massive room with huge icicles coming down, dim light, and a ton of mist. They're kind of on a platform suspended above a bunch of emptiness. In the middle, there's a tower of frozen ice cream scoops and at the center is a small opening. Surrounding it and floating around it are huge freezer burned ice cream cones and popsicles. At the top of the tower, frozen into it is a chocolate egg (a chocolate smear inside the ice indicating that it was incredibly hot).

The SPF appears in front of them in her cute glamour bearing the mended teacup, the note from Lapin, and the heartseed Liam left for Preston. She thanks them for coming and apologizes that she can’t bring Jet back but says now she can bring them to Jet. Ruby asks what that means and she suddenly sees figures in the mist--4 adult women with a younger adult woman along with a figure that looks like Amethar’s dad. There’s a brightly colored road made of illusory light going from where they are, down into the mist. The SPF says it’s a pure Candy-only place and she can take them there. The church means to burn everything sweet out of the world forever and this is the only way to keep them safe. She’s taken a lot of other spirits there already and everyone they’ve lost and love will be waiting for them and they’ll be together forever.

Amethar openly expresses suspicion at the SPF and the SPF says she’s only using the glamour to make them feel more comfortable. Rina says she’d like to see the SPF’s true form and the SPF says, “I bet you would,” seeming ticked off that she has Winterscoop. She compares Rina to Lazuli who wanted to take everything that made Candia special and let it get used and abused by the rabble (her opinion, not mine). Look how that turned out for the Jolly Giant and the Hamburger Helper.

Ruby, in Twinspeak, asks the misty figure of Jet, “Are you real?”

The Jet in the Mist (played by Emily who is on the spot drafted by Brennan to be Jet once again for this moment) says (with the knowledge to back it up), “It’s true, but I don’t know if it’s good.”

With that answer, Ruby gives the SPF a placid thanks but no. She’s grateful that she’s been protecting the magic of Candia but they need it now to keep Candia safe. The SPF says that that’s what she’s doing. If they go into the mist, they’ll be safe. No, says Ruby. If they go into the mist, they’ll be dead. The SPF doesn’t see a difference. Safe and dead? Safe and alive? To-may-to, To-mah-to.

“Are you mad at me?” the SPF asks, childlike.

“No,” Ruby says, evenly.

The SPF says she’s only ever tried to help. She sent Lapin to protect them even though she knew he’d die and they’d lose everything because she knew they wouldn’t come unless they lost everything.

Ruby pauses for a second that feels like ten minutes.

“Did you kill my sister?”

The SPF looks slightly sheepish. “Would you have come here if she was still alive?”

Ruby does the only thing she can do. She pulls her bow.

Looks like someone just jumped Ciabatta in her to-kill list everybody. See you next week!

Things I’m Concerned About

I mentioned this in an ask but I’m concerned Cara is about to pull a Cat’s in the Cradle--meaning, she keeps getting brushed off so I’m worried she’s gonna get really hurt and the PCs will suddenly care and it’ll be too late. This fear is based on nothing except what I would do to be mean to my players. I have a semi-similar fear about Rina but I’m gonna let that sit for a bit.

Ruby. Girl. I know what you’ve just been through but...girl. Please be smart here.

I never love a battle map you can fall off of. That always gives me anxiety--especially when your enemy can fly so it’s not equal footing so to speak.

I feel like “concerned” is a bit of a weak word to describe my feelings on a genocide but I named this section during episode 1 before I knew where things were going so yeah. Bad.

Everyone the group hates being in one place is hypothetically very good but also has the potential to be VERY bad depending on how it plays out.

I really wanna know what the Sanctus Putris is planning is to at the Temple. How aligned are they with the mainstream church? Their main tenant runs pretty counter to what they’re doing right now. Are they potential allies? Why would they be communicating with Onionpatch, known close confidant for the Pontifex? Were they trying to sway her with something there?

Five More Things

Woah! Oh man, that whole last scene with Ruby and the SPF? The music? The tension? The constant, calm No’s from Ruby until the SPF Said That and then the instant switch into Terminator mode? What a scene ender y’all! When I watched it again for this recap, I knew what was coming and it still bodied me. The immediacy with which Ruby/Siobhan grasped the, “This is death” thing was so impressive to me. I loved everything about that last 5 mins. So it seems like the SPF is the one who set up that letter. She might have been posing as Cara in that moment, or maybe it was a full illusion--that seems to be her school of magic. I knew this Fae was shady but man! Can you imagine the world where Lapin is still alive at this point? Would love to know his take on this.

There’s a bit I didn’t mention in the recap when they get back initially and Brennan tries to have the NPCs overrule the PCs on the cuteness levels of the corn monster from last ep that is so funny. Nothing like ganging up on the literal god of the universe you’re playing in. Also funny is him going, “No Zac, this is good,” when he starts listing out the other house spirits/brand names. Gotta love having a captive audience for your carefully constructed nonsense.

OK, so question. What exactly is Calroy’s plan with the church, huh? Because, you can get baptized all you want, you’re still cake my dude. Is he hoping they’ll let him, what? Die of old age while slaughtering his people? Yikes.

When Swifty opened his mouth the first time I was like, “Absolutely not,” but now I kind of love him?

So we learn in this ep that all other spirits get their powers from the Bulb or the Hungry One ultimately which is interesting conceptually. “Power is neutral except for how you use it,” is cool and also generally correct imo. Rina mentions the SPF, “Working with the Bulb” at some point and do you think she means the Bulb or the church? Because the Bulb is mindless but she doesn’t necessarily know that. And if she means the church that would also be wild considering what we learned this ep.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #the royal report

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photochoco · 3 years

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New Recruit

After an unfortunate run-in with a client, Wisteria finds themselves with a curse. Luckily, Black Cauldron is here to help.

Pinprick and Bianca had been the closest to the disturbance. Patrolling had its perks, one of them being that you never knew when you might conveniently stumble upon magical mayhem.

Well, they didn’t stumble upon it so much as they heard a pained screech split through the air as they walked along. Rushing towards the source, they rounded a corner and into an alley-

Someone in a pointed hat stood with their back to the Cadets, holding a second person up by their throat. Magic crackled in the air like static.

A witch.

“HEY!” Bianca yelled. Pinprick rushed past her, talons outstretched.

The witch barely sidestepped his swipe in time, their hat getting nicked in the process. Scrambling onto their broom, they rose up into the air and took off above the buildings.

“Pin, go after ‘em! I’ll take care of the kid.”

Despite being a giant, Pinprick was very fast. He gave a single nod and leapt up onto a nearby house, hopping from rooftop to rooftop in pursuit.

The civilian was laying in a heap on the ground, unmoving.

Bianca swore under her breath as she skidded to a halt next to them, grabbing their shoulder and rolling them over. Whatever had happened with the witch, it seemed like they'd put up a fight, smeared blood drying on the corners of their mouth.

“Damn kid...I’m sorry…” Bianca muttered as she noticed the streams of multicolor flowing in rivulets from their closed eyes. It coated their hands as well; it was no doubt caused by a curse. At least they were breathing. Bianca considered calling for backup before Pinprick leapt down in front of her.

He wore a frustrated scowl. “The witch got away. They were too far ahead.”

Bianca sighed in resignation. “Dammit. Well, let’s at least count it as a win that they didn’t kill this kid here. Look at ‘er eyes though, I think they got cursed. We gotta- hff- get ‘em to Tracy- Geezus they’re a deadweight-” she sunk under their weight as she tried to hoist them up, an arm around their shoulders.

“Here, let me-” Pinprick gently scooped them into his arms. Their head sagged against his chest and they didn’t stir beyond a small mumble that was barely audible. “Poor thing…” he murmured, cradling them carefully against himself.

“Let’s get 'em back to BC and see what the damage is. Hopefully nothin’ too bad.”

---

A myriad of voices reached her ears, but she couldn’t really understand what anyone was saying through her exhaustion. She wanted to go back to sleep.

Consciousness came slow, discouraged by soft, warm blankets. Yet they couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible had happened…She scrunched her face up. It felt like...there was something...

“Oh shit, they moved!”

“She’s waking up!”

“Oooooh do you think she’ll wanna become a Cadet?”

“Whaddaya think happened?”

“Ok everyone, that’s enough, off you go! There will be plenty of time for meet and greet later!”

Coherent thought was returning in a steady stream, and it was now that she realized there were bandages around her eyes. Bandages? Is that why her eyelids felt so hot and swollen…? Or was it because her eyes felt hot and swollen that she had bandages…? Did something happen to them?

She sat up rather abruptly, hearing a squeal of surprise in response to her quick movement. Her eyes...were really itchy. They itched, but they stung more, like a dull ache. Like someone had blown pepper flakes into her eyes…they automatically watered in response to the thought.

Her head throbbed. Ugh...it felt like something was hammering the inside of her skull...She pressed a hand to her temple in protest of the sudden headache.

“Welcome back, dear. You gave us a bit of a scare, being out for so long.”

She jumped at the voice and heard a soft chuckle.

“No need to be jumpy, now. You’re at Black Cauldron. My name is Tracy Pan, I’m a nurse here.”

“Black Cauldron…” she echoed. “You mean the guild for cursed people…?”

“The very same. One of our teams found you in an alley. It looked like you had been attacked. Does that seem familiar at all?”

It did. She nodded, her mouth suddenly becoming dry. If she was here, at Black Cauldron, did that mean…?

“I’ll get straight to the matter at hand. When our Cadets found you, you seemed to have color streaming from your eyes. When you got here, your eyelids were pretty irritated and swollen, hence the bandages as a precaution. It’s very possible you’ve been cursed.”

Wisty was silent as the nurse methodically unwound the gauze and peeled the medical tape off the pads over her eyes.

“I...don’t really remember a lot about what happened. They were a client of mine, they were angry about...something about the art I made for them? We got into a fight and...they shot some sort of spell at me.”

“Hm hm! And what’s your name?”

She could barely squeeze it out of her rapidly tightening throat as dread coiled in her gut . “...W-Wisteria. Wisteria Inkwell. Or...Wisty...”

“Pleasure to meet you, Wisty. I’m going to remove your bandages. When they’re off, make sure to open your eyes slowly. If you are cursed, there’s a high likelihood that it affected your eyes.”

Please don’t let it be what she thought it was.

Please let that have been from shock. Please...

“Alright, you can open your eyes now.”

Slowly, reluctantly, she opened them.

Everything was grey. Greys and whites and blacks, like she was looking at an old photograph. Monochrome. The color was gone. Wisty’s heart had started to pound so hard she could feel each thump in her chest. The dread uncoiled and shot through her veins, bringing with it a wave of cold.

Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot--

No. No. No. No way. This couldn’t be happening.

She would not cry, not in front of other people, let alone a stranger. Emotions she couldn’t place were whirling about inside her so fast. But her face was blank as she willed the tears back. She felt very dizzy.

“Hm hm!” A small plump woman popped into her view, a troll? She leaned in close, examining her eyes. “It would seem it is indeed a curse on your eyesight. Or is it perhaps a different version of soul loss…? Your eyes are voided out like another one of our Cadets, but his are white, yours are black. What do you see?”

Wisty fought off tears. “There’s no color. I can’t see color, I--they-- they took color from me...they--”

“Interesting, interesting…and how else do you feel?” Tracy continued.

The room was spinning.

“I...uh…kin...kinda...dizzy...” Wisty mumbled. “I think ‘m gonna b’ sick…”

“Hmm, you might be in shock. How about we… …”

The rest of the nurse’s words were lost to the static roar that started in Wisty’s ears. Everything sounded very far away all of a sudden, she herself felt like she was floating. She could see things, hear things, but she couldn’t make sense of any of it. She tried to breathe in steadily, but her chest was burning. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She felt herself falling freely through space.

Where was the color?

---

It was quiet when Wisty came to again. Jeez...what happened? Had they fainted?

They opened their eyes, slowly.

It was no less gut-wrenching the second time.

The world was still in grayscale, and the sickening feeling swelled inside them all over again. They looked around and listened, eyes already brimming with tears. They were alone. Good.

They buried their face into their knees and sobbed. They sobbed until they felt like they were going to be sick. Their throat was tight and their head pounded, they cried until they had no tears left. The colorful world they’d loved so much was gone. And it wasn’t going to come back. Small wails mixed in with their sobs, thankfully muffled by the blankets.

Finally, they calmed themself down with a series of long sighs that shook their frame. They wiped their eyes and looked around, sniffling. Urgh, now they’d given themself a nasty headache and they couldn’t breathe through their nose. They slipped out of bed to find the bathroom. They could use some cold water on their face.

Wisty approached the door and went to open it, only to have it swing forward on its own, causing them to yelp in response.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t--excuse me--”

The pair of legs in the doorway bent down, and an incredibly tall ghoul ducked through the threshold.

“Ahem.” He straightened himself up to his full height, easily over nine feet. “Apologies cupcake, I didn’t see you there. Actually, should you even be out of bed? You haven’t been taking your curse very well.”

Wisty squirmed and hastily wiped at her eyes. “I, um, I actually feel fine now. I just wanted some water.”

He leaned down, putting his face too close to hers, and gently pressed a long pointed finger onto her cheek. She resisted the urge to shrink away. What if he noticed--

“Now, why the waterfalls?”

Crap.

“I. Um.”

The ghoul studied her expression and grinned widely with a chuckle, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. Wisty averted her gaze. What colors was he? Frustrated tears bubbled up again. The ghoul cocked his head and continued to grin. Then his eyebrows hopped up and his smile dropped in surprise.

“Oh my. That doesn’t look normal.”

“H-Huh?” Wisty wiped at her eyes and was startled to smell...what was that? Ink? She pulled her hand away.

Some sort of dark substance was smeared across the back of her hand. She looked at it. Looked up at the ghoul. Back to the ink. Then the ghoul. He stared back with a surprisingly calm expression.

“Side effect of your curse, perhaps?” he suggested.

Fighting back the urge to just up and scream, Wisty replied, “Uuuhhhhh maybe? Hope this isn’t a permanent thing-”

“Yo Pin, quit hoggin’ the doorframe!”

A girl with long gelatinous-looking hair squeezed past the ghoul, her eyebrows also hopping up when she saw Wisty.

Oh, you’re awake! ‘S about time too, you were startin’ to freak us all out! Especially after you fainted right outta the bed.”

She stuck her hand out, and Wisty took it in her own. The girl’s hand was very warm.

“I’m Bianca Frost, and this is my partner Pinprick! We make up Team B of Black Cauldron. We found you in an alley.”

“Oh--oh my god, you guys saved me? Thank you!!”

Bianca shrugged and rubbed the back of her head, looking away.

“Eh, it was nothin’. I’m just sorry we didn’t find you sooner. Uh, how are ya feelin’ now? You know your eyes are...uh, leaking, right?”

“Y-Yeah, dunno what’s up with that. I’m...better. It’s still kinda a big shock,” Wisty rubbed at her eyes again. “Do you have a bathroom in here? I wanted to get some water and clean my face.”

At her insistence that she felt fine enough to do it herself, Bianca pointed Wisty in the direction of the restrooms. They were easy to find, tucked around the corner from a bar area. There were several people sitting at tables, and they all swiveled their heads to stare at her as she walked by. With a weird flip in her stomach, Wisty hurriedly shut the door behind her as whispers began.

Purposefully avoiding the mirror, they splashed their face with water, sighing as it soothed their itchy, swollen eyes. Wisty braced themselves, head hanging with one hand on either side of the sink. They stared down at the wisps of ink mixing with the water as it all swirled down the drain. They could deal with this. It would be fine. They’d be fine. They’d find a way to keep making art, this was fine. They cupped their hands under the stream and took several thirsty gulps. This was manageable. People got cursed all the time. (As unfortunate as that was.)

Wisty sighed again. They wondered if the curse affected how their eyes looked. Steeling themself, they looked in the mirror. Their eyes were completely black, no visible iris or sclera to be seen.

“Whoooooooaaaa,” They couldn’t help the exclamation as they leaned in closer, staring at their reflection with wide eyes. “Haha, what the hell…?”

They pulled their eyelid down and rolled their eyeball around, looking this way and that; the whole thing was as solid and black as an 8 ball and reflected no light. Kinda like that pigment of black they used once-

A thought struck them- what would people think if they saw their eyes? Would they avoid her? Would people commission art from a cursed person who couldn’t even see the colors she was using? Cursed people in Salem were viewed with pity, and sometimes worse, outright scorn for being damaged goods. Would they have to wear sunglasses or something? What if--

There was a knock on the door.

Pin’s -that was his name right?- voice sounded on the other side, muffled, “Hey cupcake, are you almost done in there? John wants to talk to you.”

John? Who’s that…? Wisty opened the door. Two people dressed in Ironmaiden uniforms were waiting to greet her. One was a tall, imposing-looking woman with her greying hair neatly twisted into a bun. She looked severe, but her eyes looked at Wisty gently. Next to her was an equally-tall oxen hybrid, standing with his arms crossed. He looked at Wisty just as kindly, despite his intimidating appearance. She fiddled with the hem of her dress, clenching it in her hands.

“You’re Wisteria Inkwell, correct?” the woman asked. Wisty nodded.

“My name is Elanor Pan, founder of Black Cauldron. This here is John Bullock, chief of the Iron Maidens.”

“We wanted to ask you a few questions. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” John said, noting Wisty’s sudden nervous expression. “We wanted to ask you about the witch that cursed you. It’s our understanding they got away after attacking you.”

“Oh, no! I don’t mind at all…” Wisty replied, feeling relief wash over her.

“Good. Now, if you’ll come this way…” John ushered Wisty into another room. Before the door closed, she looked back at the entourage that was still gathered. They all stared at her.

Wisty rubbed at her eyes.

---

She ambled back out the door a good while later, now rubbing at her temple. John and Ela had peppered her with questions about her assailant until her head was spinning. They certainly were thorough. She’d drawn them a picture of the witch that had cursed her, which ate up even more time as she tried to recall as many details about them as possible. Then...more questioning. A drop of whatever-the-heck was dripping out of her eyes nearly ruined the whole damn drawing.

Wisty wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to have happen. Did she want the witch to be arrested? Did she want revenge? Out of all the things she was feeling, anger wasn’t very high on the list at the moment. Both John and Ela had assured her the drawing she made, as well as the details she provided, would be put on the wanted board in Black Cauldron.

On that topic… Ela had said…

The people still in the bar area chose that moment to pounce, all but swarming around her.

“Hey! Did Ela talk to you about becoming a Cadet?”

“What kind of curse do you have?”

“Want some soda?”

They were all talking over each other so loudly Wisty could hardly piece together what any one person said. She was luckily saved by Elanor, who swept out of the room behind her.

“Really now! I’d said there’d be time for introductions later, but this poor child has had a very long day and she certainly doesn’t need to be bombarded by you all at once. I know you’re all excited about the prospect of a new Cadet, but please, be considerate. Don’t scare them off just yet!” she said, a good-humored smile curving her mouth. She placed a hand on Wisty’s shoulder and looked down at her, still smiling. “Think about my offer, won’t you? I think you’d be a valuable member here.”

“I’ll think about it, for sure,” Wisty said.

Ela nodded. “Good. In the meantime, would you like to stay here awhile until you’re feeling better? Maybe get yourself acquainted with some of our Cadets here.”

“I’m- Thank you very much Mrs. Elanor-” Wisty managed to squeak out as Bianca grabbed her wrist and began to pull her away.

“Just Ela is fine, dear!”

Bianca ushered a bewildered Wisty into a seat, and the remaining chairs at the table were very quickly filled in. A stout girl with hair that curled at the ends trotted up to the crowd, notepad in hand.

“Hi! I’m Cameilla, a waitress here. Can I get you anything to drink?” she chirped, smiling wide.

“I’d looooove a soda-” a boy at the table started. “She was talking to the new kid, not you,” someone else retorted.

“Well...if it’s not too much trouble, I’m literally dying for a lemonade right now,” Wisty said.

Cameilla smiled and hopped away towards the kitchen. “Cameilla is the youngest Cadet,” Bianca said. “She’s not keen on the whole fighting thing, so she works as a waitress here instead!”

She returned a very short time later with Wisty’s lemonade, and the questions began.

The first to speak was Pinprick. “So, my dear, care to share with the rest of the class? Why don’t we get those introductions out of the way.”

“Oh! I’m Wisteria. Just Wisty is fine.”

Everyone looked at her expectantly. One of the Cadets tapped near their eyes and pointed at her.

“Oh right, my curse. Well...I can’t see color anymore,” Wisty found it was easier to talk about than she had anticipated. “I can still see and all, but it’s like--you know black and white photographs? It’s like that. I can still see value, but all the hue and saturation is gone.”

There was a wave of nods and aaaaaah’s that quickly turned into a collective scream as a thick, viscous liquid trickled down Wisty’s cheeks.

“Holy shit your eyes are melting!!”

“No no no no they’re not! They’ve been doing this ever since I woke up. I’m...really hoping this isn’t a thing my eyes just do now…”

Bianca slid a napkin dispenser her way and Wisty grabbed several, hurriedly rubbing at her face, grumbling in frustration.

“I swear, if this is just a thing for me now I’m gonna go feral,” she muttered.

“Being colorblind looks pretty metal,” a boy with glowing white eyes said, blowing a cloud of smoke out through his teeth. A cigarette was clenched between them.

Wisty wrinkled her nose and tried not to gag into the napkin. She hated the smell of cigarette smoke. The Cadet sitting next to the boy must have noticed, because he deftly yoinked it out of his comrade’s mouth.

“Yo Harvey, what the hell man?!” the boy squawked as the person in a bunny mask crumpled the cigarette in his hand.

“If you paid any attention to her face, you’d have seen your smokestack was making her sick, dumbass.” He turned to Wisty and stuck out his non-ash covered hand, which Wisty took and shook. “I’m Harvey. I make weapons for Cadets here. This idiot next to me is Dex.”

Dex gave a short wave, grinning widely. “Yep, that’s me! Dex, the resident heartthrob.”

Wisty blinked. “Oh, I’ve seen you before! You nearly ran me over with your bike once.”

Everyone present swiveled their heads to stare at Dex. He blinked.

“I’m sorry about him. He tragically lost all his brain cells years ago.“

“...I did?”

“Oh my god Dex that is NOT what you say to someone you nearly flattened with your dumb bike!”

“Hey! DeeDee is NOT dumb! She--ow ow ow ow!” his words cut off with a squeal as Harvey sitting next to him grabbed him in a headlock.

“I’m sorry about him. He tragically lost all his brain cells years ago.“

Wisty couldn’t help but giggle. “Um, have you all been here long?”

“Some of us have, yeah,” Harvey said. He released his hold on Dex, who sucked in air theatrically.

“Caldwell, the guy workin’ behind you? He helped form BC with Ela. They go way back,” Pinprick said. “Then we all joined one by one! There’s many more of us who aren’t here right now, but it’d be lovely if you met them, cupcake. We’re definitely a rag-tag bunch with a myriad of curses to match.”

Bianca tossed her hair, grinning in a way that seemed very much prideful. “A witch set me on fire and I turned into a lava elemental! Best thing that ever happened to me!”

“I mean, it’s fairly obvious for me,” Pinprick added, grinning equally widely. “Black Cauldron’s resident ghoul.”

Harvey was silent until Dex leaned on him hard enough to nearly push him off his chair.

“Oh god fine!” he relented, placing a hand on Dex’s face and shoving him away. “I was dared by some buddies of mine to put this mask on and it never came off,” he said. “Happy now?” he added to Dex, who was watching him with his chin in his hands, smiling mischievously.

“How do you eat then?!” Wisty balked.

“With a straw, duh.”

“What about you, Dex? Wh-”

“Sooooo!” Dex cut in. “Are you thinking about becoming a Cadet?”

“I mean, Ela did make the offer to me. But I dunno how much of a help I’d be to be honest. Fighting sounds interesting, buuuuut all I’m really good at is making art.”

“We can help teach you, if you join. And Harvey can make you a weapon!” Dex said. “And if ya want, maybe you could team up with someone, like Alphus over there, or—”

“I work alone, Dex boy,” the woman leaning on the wall nearby said.

Wisty shrunk in her seat.

“Oh, don’t mind her cupcake, she can be a little standoffish towards everyone at first,” Pinprick said, placing a reassuring hand on Wisty’s shoulder, nearly knocking her off her chair. “Honestly Alphus, be nice!”

Alphus shrugged. “Hey, never said I was against backup if I’d ever need it, which I won’t. Just so long as no one gets in my way.”

“So what was this about you being an artist?” Harvey inquired.

“Oh yeah! I mostly do commission work and run my studio outta my apartment. You might’ve seen some of my stuff if you visit the underground city.”

“Oooooh, can you show us some of your work?”

“Can you draw something right now?”

---

It ended up being pretty late when Wisty finally set off back home. A slight breeze wafted through the city streets, and they initially felt oddly at ease, despite everything that had happened. But as they walked along, gazing at familiar sights, a pit opened up in the bottom of their stomach. How were they going to deal with this? What would they tell their friends? Their family? The streetlamps that once felt so warm seemed frigid now, a dull grey. Values were mixing together and hard to tell apart. Wisty impatiently flicked away yet another trickle of black from their right eye.

Black Cauldron…

They’d heard of them for a long time, but they never imagined they might end up joining one day. And even now, they were still unsure. Everyone they had met were very friendly, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to become a Cadet. Maybe they could make recruitment posters or something. Or something. The last thing they wanted to be was a hindrance to anyone.

A single day at a time.

“Ugh!” Wisty shouted aloud, throwing their fists in the air.

They had time to think it over, even Ela had said so! There was no rush.

They’d take it one day at a time.

#stories #original story #skz #skullkidz #skull kidz #out in the field #wisteria #wisty #man this rewrite took foreverrrr #but i like it a lot more now :>

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 4 years

Note

The 5 headcanons thing for a merfolk AU

Hmmmmmmmmmm......... do I go the traditional “Jaskier is a siren” route, or... AH! No, here we go. (This got even more away from me than the soulmate one, whoops...)

1) Jaskier is a mermaid. Well, merman, technically speaking. I refuse to go with the whole “green hair and nipples” thing bc what, he has wide pale blue eyes the color of the noontime sky, just this side of inhuman, vibrant reddish scales and fins, and a long chestnut braid that floats behind him, woven with shells and shipwreck trinkets and pretty stones. He has the most glorious fucking voice, and he’s pretty damn well celebrated down in the depths, amongst the other merpeople and the sea witches and nereids. But he’s dangerously curious, and goes to the surface all the time to watch boats and harbors and animals and trees. He tries to steer clear of the sirens ‘cause frankly they’re not exactly friendly and they’re a lot more likely to have drawn unneeded attention. He doesn’t want to get attention, he just wants to watch people. And he’ll hang out under docks, out of sight, and listen, and he learns how to understand Common (slowly, slowly, but he has so much time to learn) and he learns the melodies to their songs.

2) And then one day, he’s gone up a large, isolated lagoon that was fed by a river at the far end, changing from the salty seawater that came through the inlet to sweet freshwater that he enjoys the taste and feel of. It’s novel and interesting, and people never come there. He comes in the evening, because the stars will come out and he loves to look at them, and he hears a person. he hides, of course, ducking quietly under the water because he doesn’t want to be seen, but he creeps closer, waiting for the sun to set before poking his head around a stone, just barely lifting his eyes out of the water, and there near the shore is a horse and a campfire, and undressed and wading into the fresh water near the river mouth to bathe is the most beautiful human he’s seen in all the years he’d spent coming to the surface.

2a) it’s Geralt, obviously.

2b) Jaskier watches him bathe, then go back to his camp, redress, have supper, speak softly to his horse. Jaskier wants to get closer and hear what the man’s voice sounds like, but he dares not. Dares not. So instead he just sits and watches him. At some point he retreats beneath the water to the floor of the lagoon to sleep, falling asleep to poetic melodies and turns of phrase that might one day be a longing song about beauty that can’t be touched or possessed, only seen from afar. The sunrise wakes him and he comes back to the surface, just in time to see the man saddling his horse and starting to lead her off. He feels a pang of regret that he wouldn’t see this interesting human anymore until he notices the man is actually leading the horse down the shore of the lagoon toward the sea. And then he starts moving along the coast, cautious and watchful, so Jaskier stays out from the shore, careful careful careful.

2c) The thing is that he got too close without noticing, and Geralt’s medallion buzzed just the tiniest bit, and Jaskier splashed just the tiniest bit, and Geralt had subtly glanced out into the lagoon and seen a chestnut head and wide blue eyes in the light of the setting sun, far too close to avoid notice by a witcher, but clearly not aware of that. He kept an eye and ear out for the merfolk to get any closer, but he knows the difference between a merfolk and a siren, and the difference between cautious curiosity and the intent to harm. He pretends to sleep until he hears it swim off and his medallion stops the faint vibration, then settles in to meditate.

3) Geralt’s hunting a small siren’s nest. It’s in a sort of cave carved into a cliff by the waves, down the shoreline a few miles. Jaskier starts worrying as they get closer because the sirens will rip this beautiful human apart, but Geralt leaves Roach and straps on his swords and strides into the nest. He tries to talk them down of course, though Jaskier can’t hear it, but they shriek and attack and he kills them, but not before one uses all her strength to fling him across the cavern into a rock pillar out in the water. She’s bleeding out and will be dead in a minute or so. Geralt would be okay, if salty and waterlogged, except he hit head-first and is unconscious. Jaskier sees it happen. Jaskier is NOT about to let this happen. He darts through the water, desperate, and drags Geralt to the surface, then to the shore. The tide’s still coming in and Jaskier doesn’t want him to be in danger from that, so he has to wriggle and writhe up on the sand to get Geralt above - or mostly above, at least - the high tide line. Then he goes back for Geralt’s sword.

3a) Geralt heals very quickly. Even from something like that, before Jaskier can get back from a) wriggling back down to the water and b) finding and retrieving Geralt’s silver sword, Geralt’s awake and trying to process everything. Jaskier manages to spot him from a distance, and he waits until Geralt’s gone stalking back to where the sirens are, looking for proof of success and also for his silver sword. By the time he’s stalking grumpily and wearily back towards Roach, the silver sword is shining just where the waterline is, stuck upright in the wet sand. And obviously Geralt can see the traces of the squirming body and handprints faintly left in damp sand that hadn’t quite been washed away yet, wonders if it might be the curious merfolk from the night before

3b) from way out in the waves, far out enough that he’s sure Geralt won’t be able to pick him out, Jaskier watches happily as Geralt retrieves his sword, examining it carefully and scanning the waves, not letting on that he sees the little smear of chestnut hair and pale skin peeking just above the water, before trudging back to his horse.

4) He goes to the sea witches after that, begs them to make him human, at least for a while. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to find the beautiful man, doesn’t know how far the land goes beyond the coast, how far or how fast the man will travel, or in what direction, but he wants to try. They turn him away and away and away, tells him to write his beautiful songs and forget the man (witcher, one of them says, she knows he must be if he survived fighting multiple sirens and had two swords). until one of them finally says she’ll do it.

4a) It won’t hurt, but she knows that following a witcher is asking for trouble, so she tells him that he won’t be able to speak or sing, lest his beautiful voice give him away and the witcher kill him. Not all are discerning of the difference between “creature that has no ill intentions and is not harming anyone” and “creature that needs to be killed to save lives”, after all. If he finds this witcher and sees all the witcher truly is and still truly loves and trusts him, Jaskier will be able to sing again. His voice will almost certainly give away his true identity, and if the witcher sees it and loves and trusts him in return, he’ll be able to speak again. If the witcher doesn’t return his trust, he’ll lose his song again and have three sunrises to make it back to water that leads to the sea before the spell becomes permanent and he will not be able to speak or sing again for the rest of his life, trapped on land.

4b) obviously this is really overly complicated, and unnecessary because they could just turn him fully human with no caveats if they wanted to, and turn him back when he got back to the sea-*, but it was partially to dissuade him and partially to make it impossible for him to truly get in trouble on land by outing himself, because no way in hell would he ever be able to truly see what a witcher is and completely love and trust them, right? Eventually he’ll crack and come back to the sea and they’ll give him back his voice and his fins, and everything will be fine. Right?

5) Jaskier gets his legs. Pants are weird but he wears them. he has shoes but honestly he hated them so he left them behind on the beach. The witch cuts his braid because it is so long and will get in the way and weigh him down so much more without the water to support it. And he is put ashore close to the nearest port city to the siren nest, and he realizes belatedly when he gets there that he doesn’t know how to write the way humans do, how to spell any of the words he’d need to use to ask about a witcher. But just his luck, Geralt’s actually on his way out of town on the very road Jaskier sat thoughtfully down on to think about his options, and Jaskier very excitedly runs up to Geralt and-- well he can’t talk, but he’s curious and starts essentially just examining Geralt up close.

5a) The magic is screened well enough that Geralt’s medallion only vibrates the tiniest bit, and only when Jaskier’s very much up in his personal space. And listen, he can be dense sometimes, but while the young man’s eyes are a more natural blue than perhaps they were as a merman, the shade of chestnut is familiar, and the kid’s barefoot and basically seems to have no belongings and he apparently can’t speak? That’s odd, and not normal for merfolk as far as Geralt’s aware. Geralt doesn’t trust him quite yet, obviously, and certainly doesn’t love him, but neither does Jaskier yet. (give it a couple of years and his songs will come tumbling out, and his speech will take longer, but the trust is there, and love has time to grow.) But Geralt can clearly tell this is the same merman who, he assumes, saved his life and his sword a couple days earlier at the siren nest. It’s not like Geralt doesn’t appreciate being saved. And it’s not like Geralt’s going to go chatting about someone being merfolk in disguise, that’s just asking for trouble. So he doesn’t say anything about that.

5b) After circling Geralt and Roach a couple times curiously, Jaskier mimes between the two of them, and then walking, and then pointing down the road. Can he travel with you, whoever you are? And Geralt sighs, and all but lifts the strange little merman up onto Roach’s saddle, turning around to go back into town. “You need shoes,” is all his explanation. And he’ll need more food to supplement his hunting or fishing.

Bonus: 6) Geralt doesn’t know what to call this strange thing, so for a few weeks he mostly just calls him “you” gruffly, or nothing at all. But then they’re passing a wide field of wildflowers, sorts that don’t grow near the ocean usually, and Jaskier’s so wide-eyed and delighted, and rushes into it without a thought of safety (not that it’s dangerous, just, it’s clearly new, and he didn’t even look to Geralt for verification he could, and Geralt wants to be angry but he sees him flopped among merigolds and cornflowers (that match his eyes almost perfectly) and sending up a cloud of dandelion seeds, and he can’t stop himself from smiling just a tiny bit, while Jaskier’s too far away to see.

6a) and when Geralt finally gets Jaskier out of the field, there are still dandelion seeds all caught in his hair and Geralt shakes his head and reaches out to gently ruffle the Jaskier’s hair and send most of them floating down. “Come on, Dandelion, we’re still a few hours out from town,” he says, sounding grumbly despite himself, but Jaskier brightens, because he knows a name when he hears one.

#the witcher #geralt #jaskier #geraskier #merfolk AU #it's sort of the little mermaid but not quite #if i wrote it i feel like i'd have a section of angst where for some reason #geralt has a reason to stop trusting Jaskier #been misled about something or other maybe #misunderstand something else #and Jaskier will broken-heartedly flee to the nearest river and his tail returns #and he swims to the see and regains his voice #but he doesn't sing #and he's so sad #and Geralt realizes FINALLY that he loved his odd musical partially-mute Dandelion #and that he'd never done anything to betray his trust #and had trusted him with a lot actually #and he'll go back to the coast where they first saw each other #and just wait and wait and wait #until Jaskier finally comes back up to the lagoon to be maudlin and look at the stars #and there's Geralt #looking miserable and exhausted #and when he sees Jaskier it looks like the sun is rising in his eyes #and Jaskier realizes that whatever had happened was a mistake #that geralt came for him #and that while he needs an apology all is already forgiven #and then they kiss and Jaskier gets the ultimate secret promise of the spell which never truly broke just stopped applying #which is the ability to shift himself human all on his own #complete with his voice #...anyway

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carolmaximoffs · 4 years

Text

THE GOOD DOCTOR

CHAPTER FOUR

Ch. Summary: Thea gets a suspicious text from an unknown number. She risks sharing her secret with the team, in hopes of finding who’s behind them.

Warnings: stillbirth, vague depiction of childbirth, loss of a child, Agents of S. H. I. E. L. D. spoilers, cursing, probably some spelling errors

Pairings (bc I guess now is as good a time as ever to add this): Sam Wilson x WOC OFC

A/N: i’m on a roll and i don’t think it’s a good one...regardless, italics are a flashback (in the form of a dream). bold italics are texts, though that i hope is obvious... things get a little weird in this chapter but it’s bc i was watching OUAT and regina’s weird tomb w all those hearts is partially responsible. i’m sorry if this isn’t your jam right away but i promise this isn’t going to be a dark fic! this is probably about as creepy as it’ll get. again PLEASE read the warnings.

Taglist (which is open!): @marvelousmrstark

THE DOCTOR AND THE CAPTAIN dance around each other for a week following lunch. She still hangs out with Wanda, and sometimes Bucky and Sam, but Steve is always miraculously busy. When Thea wakes up early to train with Natasha, Steve is always conveniently just leaving the kitchen as she enters. It isn’t until a Saturday morning that it comes to a halt.

Tony quite literally drags Steve by the ear into the med-bay, which Thea would find funny if she weren’t loath to see him. America’s golden boy, and she’d been the one to tick him off. She knew he was a cautious man, suspicious due to events in recent years, and even in his past; it didn’t stop her from feeling incredibly awkward after his seemingly blatant distrust of her.

The dark-haired man releases his hold on Steve and crosses his arms. The tips of Steve’s ears are grow red as Thea looks up from the paperwork she’s been doing, in regards to Clint’s mission injury a few days ago.

“Talk,” Tony says as sternly as possible.

“Thea, it wasn’t my place to question you about your abilities,” Steve starts, and Tony gives him a thumbs up while nodding encouragingly. Thea resists the urge to roll her eyes. “I...you made it clear you were just here as a doctor, and if that’s all you want to be then I will respect that. Thank you again for...my leg. And while I do think-”

“Alright, shows over, nice job, thanks Dory!” Tony hastily interjects, gripping Steve’s forearm and steering him out of the small office. Thea rises to her feet.

“Wait,” She commands, and they stop, Tony’s shoulders sagging. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Steve says, turning around and meeting her eyes, “That your powers could be a great asset to the team. Outside of medical situations.”

Thea realizes what he’s getting at. It takes everything in her to remain calm, lifting her chin just a little.

“Whether that’s true or not, I’m perfectly happy with what I’m doing. Thank you for the apology, Steve.” Her words come out stiff, a little sharper than she means them to. Nevertheless, Thea shakes Steve’s hand when he offers it, and maintains her rigid posture until she hears the main doors to the med-bay close.

“I tried to warn him,” Tony offers, having shifted to lean against the doorway. Thea drops into her chair with a sigh, leaning her head back as she clicks a pen absently.

“I just wish everybody would let it go. It’s not...it’s not cool, it’s not useful.” Thea sits up straight, tossing the pen aside and gripping her desk. “I mean, what would I do with my powers in a fight? Put somebody to sleep? Stop their heart? I’m not...I’m not a killer, Tony.”

“I know you’re not,” He says softly, approaching her desk to pry her fingers off it. “I won’t tell you that I agree with him, you know I do, but I will tell you it is 100% your decision.”

Thea manages a thank you, and, bless him, Tony leaves. She closes the folder on Clint’s mission after signing a few more pages and sets it into her main desk drawer. Peering as far as she could to be sure Tony was gone, she pulls a key from around her neck and unlocks a little side drawer.

Inside, only two items lay. One is a picture of her and her brother, only a year after she’d been adopted. Fury had explained his choice of family as ‘somewhere Thea could blend in, feel comfortable’, and it was perfect. The Triplett’s adopted her within 6 months of fostering her; she was home. In the photo, Antoine stands much taller than she, with an arm around her shoulders and the other wiggling into her abdomen. She, as a result of his tickling, is frozen in time laughing openly.

Thea sets the photo aside and reaches back into the drawer for the other object. It’s a locket, one Antoine had given her. Though the chain is thin, the charm attached is sizable for a necklace. It vibrates with energy that might make Thea nervous if she wasn’t so intimately familiar with it. The click of the lock coming undone still sends chills down her spine, regardless.

Within it, shrouded in the gold of Thea’s magic, beats a tiny human heart.

That night, dinner is a lonely affair. Steve had left for a mission shortly after seeing Thea, Natasha and Sam with him. Bucky and Wanda had invited her to join them for supper, but Thea feigned having work to do; Tony had gone on a date with Pepper. Now, as the stove clock blinks 9:30, Thea settles at the breakfast bar with a bowl of leftover dumplings.

She eats in silence, only disrupted when behind her, the TV clicks on. A glance over her shoulder shows her Bucky, flipping channels despite the book open on his lap. He doesn’t acknowledge her, however, so Thea returns to her meal, until her phone pings in her back pocket.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Thea frowns at the device, but opens the message anyways.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Funny how the good doctor avoids her powers

with friends, but not with family.

Thea’s heart begins to pound. Not only had she made sure she was alone earlier, and every time she went into her drawer, but the key is always with her. Any assistants Tony hired had never even been through the office - it was really only for paperwork, anyways, and they always left it on the desk for Thea to go through later. She feels nauseous, suddenly: the only other person on Earth who knew about the locket, and it’s true nature, was dead.

“You alright, Doc?” Comes a voice, and Thea jumps. She swallows as Bucky eyes her curiously, slipping her phone back into her pocket and nodding.

“Yeah, I...yes. I’m good,” Thea replies, but her voice quivers just enough that Bucky grips her arm as she moves past him to put her bowl in the sink.

“Thea-” He tries, but Thea pulls her arm away, giving him a tight, apologetic smile.

“Bucky, I’m fine. Seriously.” Thea insists before she ducks out of the kitchen. She can’t shake the feeling of his gaze, half pity and half suspicion, even as she shuts her bedroom door. After a moment of thought, she locks it, for good measure, and closes every curtain. No chances taken. She showers and changes from scrubs to sweats, and as she settles into her pillows she pulls out her phone again.

But not with family.

Thea still feels nauseous, and without even thinking, she types out a response.

Who is this?

There’s no immediate answer. Thea groans as she shuts her light off and tosses the phone aside. She tosses and turns until finally falling into nightmares.

2014

Thea laughs as Antoine crouches to coo over her quickly growing stomach. One month from her due date, but her brother has been devoted to her child from the moment Thea found out she was pregnant. She hadn’t even thought she could have children, nor had she really thought about them with the insane hours she worked, but she too was excited.

“Hi little bugger,” He whispers. Thea scolds him for language, but he ignores her. “I’m your Uncle Trip. We’re gonna be best friends, ‘cause your mama’s gotta be strict.”

Thea flicks his forehead, and he only smiles up at her before rising to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” He starts, and Thea collapses dramatically back into her couch. “About Ward. If we had- if I had known, Dot, you know-”

“Ant, it’s fine. Not your fault at all,” Thea tries to reason with him, but since learning of Grant’s true nature, she’d been struggling as well. Her long-time boyfriend had seemed so...so wonderful. Though Thea tried not to think about how he had seemed, tried not to think about him at all; it just spiraled until she was left wondering how much of it was lies.

Suddenly, she cries out, and Antoine rushes to her as she doubles over. His voice floats in and out of focus, the pain consuming her.

“Dot? Hey, Dot, what’s up? Dor…”

Thea feels only as if she blinks, and when she opens her eyes, she’s in a hospital bed. She’s hooked to various machines, and the room itself is crowded with people. Sound is still distorted, but Antoine is right by her side, gripping her hand. It’s a small relief.

“It’s too soon,” Thea protests as an unfamiliar woman crouched by her feet tells her to push. She doesn’t notice that she can only hear one heart monitor beeping. “Please, it’s too soon-”

With further insistence, Thea pushes anyways, the promise of ending the pain too tempting. A scream tears from her throat. It feels like only minutes before she feels all pressure lift; she'd done it. Yet the cry she expects does not come. She fees . Thea holds onto her brother’s hand for dear life.

“Ant? What’s happening? What’s wrong?” She whimpers, but Antoine is asking the doctors the same questions. Finally, they file out slowly, until only one doctor remains, a nurse standing just behind her, almost out of sight.

“Ms. Triplett, we are so sorry. Your son...was stillborn. You can...you can still hold him if you’d like.”

Thea’s body is wracked with sobs, but she holds her hands out regardless. The nurse places her unmoving child, swaddled with his eyes closed, into her arms. Antoine wraps an arm around her shoulders as Thea lets go of his hand to hold her son’s. The doctor mentions something about giving her time, and she and the nurse file out.

“He’s perfect,” Thea whispers. She stares down at where her dark fingers encase his tiny tan hand, and her crying ceases. A deep determination settles into her bones. “I want to keep him.”

“Thea.” Antoine gasps, alarmed, but she looks up at him with pleading eyes.

“Please. Please, Ant, you know I would never ask you anything like this but I-he’s my son.”

And as Antoine takes up a stray scalpel, Thea’s heart shatters all over again.

Thea jerks into a sitting position, gasping for breath. Her hands scramble for the key, feeling it still secure around her neck. Without thinking, she slides her feet into slippers and races from her room. She’s almost to the elevator when someone calls her name.

“Thea?”

It’s Sam, voice raspy from sleep. He’s still in his tactical suit, though without wings and goggles, evidently having been so wiped out he hadn’t changed. They must’ve just gotten back, then.

“Sam,” she replies breathlessly. Thea struggles to tamp down the panic trying to eat her alive as he emerges fully from his bedroom, making his way to her. “I thought you had a mission.”

“Just an in and out thing,” He replies, rubbing his eyes. “Are you alright? It’s 2:30.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m great,” Thea lies, forcing a small laugh. Sam doesn’t look like he believes her, but she presses on. “Just heading to the kitchen, glass of water, you know.”

“Then I’ll join you,” Sam says, taking another step towards her, and Thea’s heart feels ready to burst from her chest.

“No!” Sam looks taken aback. His usually laid-back demeanor is uneasy. Thea gulps, fingers coming back up to twist into the chain of her necklace. “I mean, no, thank you. I also left something, um, downstairs, in my, my office so really, you should go back to bed. Need some rest.”

She forces a laugh, but Sam only sighs, running a hand over his face. “Show me.”

Thea swallows the bile rising in her throat and tries to steady her breathing as he follows her to the elevator. No more words are spoken as they walk down the hallway past the garage, Tony’s lab, and enter the medbay. Thea takes the key from around her neck as they enter the tiny back office. He crosses his arms expectantly as she unlocks the drawer.

The locket nearly slips from her trembling hands, so Sam takes it instead, and Thea can’t find it in her to protest. He opens it, and closes it almost right after, staring at Thea with wide eyes.

“What...the fuck?” Sam whispers, and Thea feels her eyes burn with tears. “Is…is that-”

He struggles to get the words out, and Thea lets the first tears roll as she nods. Sam silently sets the locket back in the drawer and shuts it. “Who?”

Thea takes a deep, shaky breath. An understanding seems to have grown between them, though Thea isn’t sure she wants him to voice it out loud. She squeezes her eyes shut to try to block out the semi-horrified look on his face.

“It’s my son’s.”

Thea swears Sam to secrecy, but he only agrees on the condition that she’ll tell the team as soon as she can.They return to their separate rooms, Thea with the locket clasped securely about her neck. Sure she won’t be able to sleep, not now, not when someone...two someones now know her secret. She opts instead to perch in the bay window of her bedroom, staring out over the city. Thea loses exact track of time as she immerses herself in thoughts, and the sun shines high above the city when FRIDAY’s voice reaches her ears.

“Dr. Triplett, Boss wishes you’d join the team in the living room, please.”

Thea, habitually, tightens her fingers around the key, and now the locket as well. Quickly, she changes from her sleep shirt into a pullover and jeans, opting to head downstairs barefoot. As FRIDAY had said, the entire team is already spread out across the living room. Tony rises to his feet to guide Thea to sit next to him before clearing his throat.

“Birdbrain said you had something to tell us, but I knew if you’d kept something from me it must be serious,” Tony explains, and Thea finds herself nodding. “Didn’t want to uh, make you feel under any more pressure with a conference room.”

Thea nods, hesitating. She takes the beat of silence to look over everyone, feeling almost as if it was the day she’d arrived. Wanda is curled up to Vision, Natasha and Steve taking up the rest of Tony and Thea’s couch. Steve’s sat forward, elbows rested on his knees, already intently listening. Bucky lingers in the kitchen doorway. Rhodey and Sam, too, are on their feet, and when she meets his eyes, Sam gives her an encouraging nod. The surgeon is unable to voice the truth, not without any leeway. She unhooks the locket from her neck and opens it.

The moment Thea does this, gasps and murmurs flood the room. After just a few seconds, once she was sure everyone had seen it’s contents, she closes the locket and gently sets it into her lap. Tony is floundering beside her, but Thea speaks first.

“That is my son’s heart,” She croaks, a little surprised at the brokenness of her voice. She finds herself meeting Sam’s eyes as she speaks, as she hadn’t even explained it to him last night.

“He was stillborn and...I didn’t handle it very well.” Thea continues. She thinks Rhodey mutters an ‘obviously’, but he’s quickly shushed. A sob builds in her throat as she talks, but she fights it. “My brother was there...he um, he had some medical training as well, he...he took out the heart for me, and I healed my son’s body so they wouldn’t suspect anything. He’d never had a heartbeat to begin with s-so nobody said anything. His body was cremated. A year later, my brother died. He was the only person who knew about...about Philip’s heart.”

To Thea’s shock, Natasha reaches out to grab her hand. With her free hand, Thea swipes at stray tears. When Thea looks over at the other woman, Natasha is watching her with a knowing expression. Vision’s voice cracks the moment in two.

“Pardon me but...where was the father?” He asks hesitantly, and Thea laughs bitterly, to their shock.

“Out of the picture. He was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I met through my brother but...” Thea shakes her head, reminiscing. “He turned out to be undercover Hydra. Said he only knew me for me but, he read files on me long before he even joined S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Natasha is nodding in Thea’s peripheral, and Thea recalls in the back of her mind that Nat had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the past. She must have at least some inkling of what Thea was on about. The younger woman pulls her hand back into her lap gently, to wrap both of them around the locket.

“It doesn’t matter now. He’s dead and irrelevant. But last night, I got a text from an unknown number,” Thea reveals. “It was only one thing but it...it really shook me because yesterday I had looked at Philip’s heart. And then I get that message...‘Funny how the good doctor avoids her powers with friends, but not with family.’”

“And your brother was the only person who knew, but he’s...passed on as well, right?” Steve interjects, and Thea nods. “How did Sam find out?”

Thea fights a smile. Part of her felt...relief. She hadn’t talked about this with anyone before, and never planned to. Even if the team was finding out now, she was glad to have been able to trust Sam first. She takes a deep, slightly shaky breath before going on.

“I had a dream, last night. Or a nightmare, really. I...remembered the day Philip was born. Or, not born, I guess. I don’t know. But the dream and the messages, I was so shaken up and I went to go check on the locket. The key to the drawer it was in is always...” Thea untucks the key around her neck, “but I was so paranoid...Sam caught up with me in the hallway. Had me take him down to show him. I just...I guess I knew it was time to tell someone.”

All at once, Thea’s exhaustion hits her. It’s clear to the other’s that she’s finished sharing. Steve, ever the leader, nods sympathetically and reaches over to pat Thea’s shoulder as he stands.

“Well, you did the right thing,” He states, and the sentiment is followed with murmurs of agreement from the team. “Especially with this...unknown person messaging you.”

“He’s right, DT,” Tony says, speaking for the first time since Thea had sat down. He’s risen to his feet as well, already rubbing his hands together. “In fact, give me your phone. I’ll see if I can’t figure out who’s behind this.”

Thea agrees, though she left her phone in her bedroom, and Tony tells her not to worry. After Thea promises to bring it down to the lab ASAP, the group disperses. Nat pulls her aside with a surprisingly kind smile as she makes towards the elevator.

“Philip for Coulson, right?” The redhead inquires. Thea smiles back, a little embarrassed, but she nods.

“He was one of the one’s who rescued me as a kid,” Thea elaborates as she presses the button for the residential floor. Nat nods, but she’s suddenly bumped by Sam as he slips into the elevator with Thea.

“Sorry, Nat!” He calls out as the doors close. The man spares the buttons a quick once over, but evidently they’re going to the same place. Sam settles in beside Thea without pushing a single one’ she tries to ignore the fact that he’s comfortable enough to stand so close their elbows brush, despite all he’s learned of her. They exit the lift together, not engaging in conversation, but he walks her all the way to her door near the end. Right as she goes to enter, he coughs. Thea turns back to him with a raised brow.

“I know that couldn’t have been easy for you,” Sam tells her. It’s a redundant statement, but the soft quality to his voice prevents Thea from being annoyed. “Steve was right though, because we can...you know, we can help you now.”

Thea bites back a scoff as she pushes open her door and walks inside. True to her instinct, Sam follows.

“I mean with the texts, of course. ‘Cause that’s some creepy shit,” He hastily amends. “Although...I do know a little about PTSD.”

This has Thea stopping in her tracks. She turns around, arms crossed, to meet his eyes again. Sam’s face wears a strange look she can’t read, but she raises a brow as nonverbal permission to go on.

“If you ever...wanted to talk to anyone. Not like, a shrink. Like a...a friend.” He’s nervous, Thea realizes, as he scrubs a hand over the back of his neck and shifts his weight. Despite the tightness gripping her heart, Thea gives him her most appreciative and reassuring smile.

“Thanks, Sam,” She says. He nods, more to himself than anything, and turns to leave as Thea turns back to her dresser. As she picks up her phone, she gasps. “Sam?!”

His footsteps almost echo as a new bout of queasiness washes over Thea. She doesn’t hear what he says as she stares at the screen, barely registering him so close to her as he takes a look.

UNKNOWN NUMBER You know who it is. Return to

the place it all began, for it

is the place that all ends.

#sam wilson #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #tony stark #colonel james rhodes #rhodey #vision #bucky barnes #mcu #marvel fic #mcu fanfic #mine #tgd/carolmaximoffs

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irrelevantwriter · 5 years

Text

Spellbound

Pairing: Chief Jim Hopper x Witch!Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids, dick Hopper (bc I don’t want him any other way)

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: You’re the new resident in Hawkins. But Chief Jim Hopper senses something isn’t quite right with you and he’s dead set on figuring out what that is.

A/N: In honor of spooky season, I wrote this completely necessary Jim Hopper x Witch piece. It was intended to be something completely different, but I can’t hide my true self so it turned out smutty and slightly twisted. I hope you guys enjoy and share with your friends!

P.S.

I know I have some requests to fulfill and I am actively working on them! I was in a bit of a rut, but hopefully this will end that. Thanks for being so patient.

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

Your deep purple nails clung to the black sheet beneath you, your body contorting in ways that should be impossible. Fire rushed through your veins while sweat dampened your skin. Your cries echoed off the walls and while it might appear that you were in the most debilitating pain of your life, you were actually experiencing pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.

A man was ravaging your neck while his heavy body pinned you to the bed. His bearded face burned your skin, but you yearned for more. His meaty hands gripped your body in animalistic hunger, a thin string of control barely present. His deep voice sent shivers down your spine as he growled and cursed in desire and exertion.

Your eyes were screwed shut against the deep, penetrating thrusts of his hips up into yours. His movements were erratic, touching you with both gentle passion and wild abandon. You craved more.

You were sure your deep red lipstick was smeared against your cheek, the residue already showing itself in his facial hair. His hair was tousled, his own flesh reddened and glistening from your activities.

The man was a special one. He wasn’t just any townie. He was the Chief of Police. And he was under your spell. Literally.

Jim Hopper hadn’t liked you from the moment he spotted you. You were new in Hawkins and had just purchased a storefront right off Main Street. You sold homemade lotions, oils, and candles. Products that were advertised as harmlessly holistic. But somehow Chief Hopper knew better.

He’d come snooping around your shop, eyeing your products with a mixture of curiosity and distaste. He’d asked you questions about your life, prodding like the law man he was. You’d obliged him. Being overtly accommodating and sweet to throw him off.

It hadn’t worked.

He was suspicious and you had to keep just as much of a close eye on Chief Hopper as he did on you.

Which is exactly what led to him fucking your brains out on Halloween night.

You’d known he’d come sniffing around your place tonight. He was probably going off the stereotypical ideas he had of witches. A chilly Halloween night complete with cat sacrifices and bubbling cauldrons. He was somewhat right.

Because of your unique senses, you’d been anticipating his knock at the door. You’d answered, no longer playing the innocent card. You didn’t bother to tighten the sash of your black robe, instead choosing to let it fall open slightly. The hint of cleavage would add to your favor.

He’d walked in adorned in fill uniform, all hulking frame and thick limbs, studying your home with careful interest. He made an excuse about wanting to check in on a single woman living alone.

It was bullshit.

The man was nosey. And attracted to you. You’d picked that up from the start. And it wasn’t one sided.

Part of your appeal as a witch was your mystical aura and blatant attractiveness. It’s what kept the men coming. Town after town. Always a lost man who found you irresistible and the answer to all his problems. And Chief Hopper was no different.

You’d made him a cup of coffee. Laced with your own herbal blend of course. And you waited.

It didn’t take long.

He was shoving you against the wall and devouring his mouth with yours before you could ask if he wanted another cup.

He’d tasted like cigarettes and caffeine. He smelled like faded cologne and the autumn air. It was hypnotic.

Clothes were shed quickly, the urgency and clear need apparent. You were wrapped up into his arms, his lips tasting your bare breasts as you directed him to your bed of satin and velvet.

He’d thrown you down and barely gave you a chance to breathe before he was burying is tongue deep inside you, pulling your nectar straight from you as if you were the juiciest peach. Your fingers pulled at his roots, urging him to take you to that point but begging for mercy.

You found that Chief Hopper wasn’t a merciful man.

He punished you with his mouth, adding his fingers as an extra device of torture. He forced your first orgasm from you, his manic eyes taking in all your convulsions and shivers with pride.

You’d felt him climb on top of you, not giving you a choice in the matter. He split your legs open and took you for his own pleasure.

Your teeth bit down on his shoulder as he thrust hard and deep. His brow was furrowed, almost as if he was angry. You liked it. You liked it far more than you cared to admit.

“Fucking hell,” He cursed as you moved beneath him, squeezing his thick cock with your walls. Every thrust made him scrape deliciously against you, the friction exactly what you needed to crest again.

“Again. Do it again.” He commanded against your neck. You obliged, eager to feel him release inside of you.

Feeling the cum of a man under a spell was an other-worldly experience. The sensation of him filling your insides was an alternate universe of orgasmic pleasure. It was euphoric. Addictive. It was your drug of choice.

“Son of a bitch.” He rasped as he slammed against you one last time, his whole body tensing.

You used his body to rub against your clit, letting his vibrations aid you. You came with a gasp, nails digging into his back as you both took from the other.

The Chief collapsed next you, his absence making your body feel unnaturally empty. You could feel him leaking from your swollen lips, your thighs sliding together obnoxiously.

You felt his stare on you, but you were waiting for the inevitable heavy slumber that came with your concoction. Most of the men passed out and slept off the remainder of the spell. That was usually when you stole from them. A little here and there so they never noticed.

But Chief Hopper kept staring at you, a self-satisfied smirk adorning his lips. You turned to face him, enjoying the way his male gaze faltered and landed on your breasts.

“Something to say?” You asked, voice a lot more hoarse than you expected.

“You make a great cup of coffee, you know that.”

His statement was odd and it made you pause. His smirk stayed plastered to his face. It was almost eerie.

“So I’ve been told.” You replied, playing along.

He shifted up so that he was leaned against your headboard, his chest firm yet soft. You found yourself wanting to lay your head there, listen to his heartbeat.

“There’s a little something different about it though. I can’t put my finger on it.”

He snapped his fingers suddenly and you jolted, caught off guard by his jovial mood. The man was nothing if not a grump.

“It’s the blend right? A spice?”

“Why the sudden interest in my coffee making skills, Chief?” You shifted so that you mirrored his position, your sheet pulled up to protect you from the sudden chill in the air.

“I just like to know what’s in my coffee when people drug it. Call me old-fashioned.” He quipped, rubbing at his graying scruff. His demeanor was strangely calm for a man who just claimed he was drugged.

“And why would you think I did such a thing?”

He laughed, though there was no humor behind it. “I’m a cop, sweetheart. I don’t just accept shit from people I don’t trust.”

You nodded, appearing to agree with his statement.

“Valid point. But I didn’t.”

He startled you when he pounced and pinned you to your back, the sheet ripped from your body. His hands gripped yours above your head, a twisted grin on his face.

“You did. I saw you.” He ducked into your neck, breathing in your scent as he spoke. “And I switched our cups.”

Your eyes widened at his admission, struggling against his hands. You met his eyes and could tell he spoke the truth. Smug bastard.

“I’m guessing my hunch was right by your reaction then.” He leaned into your body, pressing his now hard cock against your thigh. “You use your magic wand and put a spell on it, sweetheart?” He provoked, his tone condescending.

“Prick.” You cursed, your body betraying you and responding to his movements.

You felt your eyelids start to get heavy, the endorphins and adrenaline now washing away to reveal the true nature of your spell. You weren’t worried per say, but you also weren’t sure what his exact motives were.

You moaned as a calloused finger danced around a pebbled nipple, his greedy mouth reaching down to suck harshly at the appendage. You writhed beneath him, trying to stay alert but feeling your mind starting to slip into unconsciousness.

You felt like you were floating and the last image you saw was Jim Hopper’s face as he spoke to you.

“You get some beauty sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up, sweetheart. We’ve got some more business to tend to.” He caressed your face softly, but you could tell even in your drowsy state that he was not going to be gentle once you woke.

You couldn’t wait.

#jim hopper x reader #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #chief jim hopper x you #jim hopper fanfiction #chief jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper fanfic #chief jim hopper fanfic

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nbapprentice · 4 years

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IM LAST ANNON AND I CANT HIDE BEHIND THAT SHOT NO MORE, THEYRE SO COOL! Are they A Fighter Gunslinger and that cape was a gift? Or an Artificer that made everything they have? As a soon to be DM I love hearing about others characters

PLS thank you

let me uhhh #nba off topic and hide it behind a read more so it doesnt crowd anyone else’s dashes

they’re a very Wibbly Wobbly concept w/o any proper character sheet bc they’re some bonkers high-risk high-reward playstyle that’s 95% homebrew

theyre a gunslinger who convinced the Church Army into giving them military training and giving them all sorts of artifacts n accomodations (they are armless and not particularly good at magic so they require Technological assistance) and they turned heel and bit the Church’s Hand the moment ye holiness demanded they commit a war crime

now they’re a Wanted Felon but they make it work ok

using their Arm Spawners drains them so they tend to not use them outside of combat. they can manage most of the time w their feet n mouth just fine. their little booties are enchanted to come on and off whenever they will it. the rest of their clothes are normal except for the cape.

the multiple arm wombo combo is basically a last resort cuz that shit knocks them Out

the high risk high reward thing is cuz their cape has all sorts of guns tucked inside it but they cant choose which ones gonna come out. so ud roll the dice and either u get a little gun the size of a quarter with one shot or a proper musket or a fuckin duck hunting gun that they cant even use on their own. its basically a Spin the Wheel for Gun scenario.

imagine all the dumb and impractical guns uve seen floating outside the internet. they got those.

jazz hands

#asks #ieatcerealfordinner

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damienthepious · 5 years

Text

i’m back on my au bullshit again fam

Made A Garden (Chapter 1)

[ao3] [ch 2] [ch 3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Rilla’s Parents

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, (categorized as ‘other’ bc arum is nonbinary when i write him bye), Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday

Summary: Rilla's parents take her out when they do field work. She's a smart kid, and she knows how not to get in trouble when they're caught up with their experiments and research. This time, they've taken her to an enormous, beautiful swamp, and their theory is that the monstrous presence in this place should be entirely dormant- which is why Rilla is so surprised, when she meets a monster for herself.

Notes: Once upon a time, I completely misinterpreted when the Concierge said that Rilla was meeting an old friend at the beginning of The Treacherous Heart. So, what if Rilla somehow knew Arum before the events of the podcast? What if, somehow, they were friends as children? Hopefully this will be as fun of an idea to y'all as it is to *me*, because I am hyper excited. I've got ideas for the time they spend together as kids, and then maybe some stuff about how this would change events later on, when they're adults. Also, I don't have specific ages for either of them quite pinned down for this, but I'd say that Rilla is somewhere between eleven and thirteen, probably? And Arum is a comparable age relative to her, with his weird monster biology. Title from the song Honeybee, by The Head And The Heart, and tbh the entire album that song is from is thematically relevant to this story.

***

She meets him in the water.

Her parents are busy. They usually are, but they’re doing Important Work and Rilla is always a little smug when they trust her to be safe out in the wilderness. Her father explained about this place; the swamp is in a sort of hibernation, just now. A period of rebuilding and regrowth, and the monstrous presence here should be mostly dormant as it goes through this process. It’s a rare occurrence, and probably the only time that her parents will have the chance to safely catalog the life, the rare medicinal plants and fungi that grow and thrive here. They aren’t far away as they work – they would never leave her in danger and she trusts that knowledge implicitly – but even though they’re in earshot (and the whistle they gave her for emergencies would reach them even further than that), she can’t see them.

Rather. She couldn’t see them if she were standing. Of course she can’t see them now, because she’s drifting, floating on her back in the water, and she can’t see much of anything at the moment besides branches and leaves and sky. She discovered a pond, clearer water among the more murky swamp, cool green dotted with lilypads she compulsively chimed out the species of as she identified them. The pond is small enough and the sun is low enough that the light isn’t too bad in her eyes, dappled through the canopy and gentle on her face, and among the cicada noise and frog noise and gentle lapping of the water she feels serene. She’s never had an exact feeling to match that word before, but Rilla thinks that she understands, now. This place is magic – her parents told her so - and it feels like magic. It feels sleepy, and untroubled, and safe. It makes her feel… something. It’s like the opposite of how she felt about serene. Instead of knowing the word but not knowing the feeling to match, she just doesn’t have the right label for the way this place makes her feel.

She knows that it makes her want to stay here as long as her parents will allow, though. It makes her want to sing, too, so she does. Soft, bouncing rhymes, mostly. Not quite lullabies, but fairy-story-songs, like her mother sings while she’s working, like her father sings in the kitchen. She thinks the songs sound even nicer out here, with the hum of heat and bugs and birds for accompaniment.

Because of how still her little pond is, she very easily notices, after a while, when the ripples in the water change.

She tilts her head backward, hoping that she’ll catch a glimpse of a heron of some sort, or a duck, or maybe a big frog, but all she can see is the waves in the water, spreading in concentric circles from a point near the shore, upside down from her angle.

Rilla furrows her brow, and lets her feet sink down until she’s paddling instead of floating, but even when she’s closer to upright she can’t quite see what’s caused the disturbance.

“You are trespassing.”

Rilla startles, splashing and spinning with a sharp indrawn breath. Behind her, there is a monster. Her hand flies to the whistle around her neck, but-

Well. Rilla has never actually seen a monster before.

He’s mostly beneath the water, with only his head above the surface. He looks like a lizard, with shiny mottled black-and-green scales, and a half-flared frill, and two small horns on the top of his head, and jagged, pointed teeth, and bright purple eyes with diamond-shaped pupils, and Rilla’s mind races, because this creature is fascinating.

Her mouth hangs open for a long moment, and the lizard glares at her, but he doesn’t make a move. He just sinks slightly down into the water until it is almost over his nose, a low ticking growl rising from him.

“Oh,” she says, hoping that she doesn’t sound as breathless as she feels. “Oh, uh. I didn’t know?”

The lizard’s eyes narrow further, and he lifts his mouth out of the water again to say, “That’s not an excuse.”

His voice is interesting, too- it’s half growl, but it’s also a little reedy, and petulant, and his inflection is a little off. He sounds young, she thinks, and he actually seems much smaller than she was expecting a monster to be.

“Well. I just wanted to swim,” she says, not backing up so long as he isn’t coming towards her. “Am I disturbing anything? I was really careful not to pull on any of the water lilies.”

The lizard’s eyes dart around, taking in the still water and the plant life gently moving in the soft wind, his tongue flicking out into the air. His low, continuous growl pitches a little lower, and a little softer, and when he looks back towards her he shrugs beneath the water, his expression begrudgingly placated. “Nnnnno… you haven’t disturbed anything… yet.” He lifts himself a little further out of the water, tilting his head in consideration. “But humans don’t belong here.”

Rilla snorts out a laugh, and the lizard, shockingly, flinches back at the noise, his eyes going wide.

“Well, yeah. But if humans didn’t go where we don’t belong we’d never go anywhere. And this swamp is a monster place, but it’s supposed to be dormant right now.”

“Dormant?” The lizard tries to sneer, but something about his expression looks more confused than anything. “It’s a swamp. It’s not like a swamp can sleep.”

“It’s supposed to be going through a rebuilding and regrowth period,” Rilla insists, tone utterly confident and her phrasing directly echoed from her father.

“It’s my swamp, I think I would know if it was…” he trails off, his brow furrowing thoughtfully.

“Your swamp?” Rilla asks after a moment.

The lizard focuses back on her, and his frill flattens against his neck as he raises his snout in the air smugly. “My swamp,” he repeats. “I am Lord of this place. Lord Arum.”

Rilla laughs again, and again the lizard startles, staring hard at her. “Arum like the lily or Arum like the corpse flower?” she asks, and he scowls.

“Neither,” he says in a more insistent growl. “Arum like me.”

“Well,” Rilla says, and he might be a monster but he’s so interesting that she can’t help her grin, “my name is Amaryllis. Like the flower, and like me.”

“Amaryllis,” he echoes. “Those are poisonous, you know.”

Rilla laughs again, and thinks, he’s not really trying very hard to make me leave, is he?

Then, Rilla's dad calls out her name. Closer than expected, but still out of sight.

Arum blanches, sinking even further into the water, until he is chin-deep. “H-how many humans are in my swamp?” he asks, voice frantic and eyes wide.

“Just-” Rilla almost swims a little closer, but she stops herself. He looks… very scared. She didn’t know that monsters could get scared. “Just my parents and me,” she says. “Don’t worry. They aren’t knights or anything.”

“I’m-” he growls, but it comes out a little weak. “I’m not worried. Of course I’m not-”

Her father’s voice comes this time, closer still, and Arum flinches, his frill flaring like a bird puffing out its feathers to make itself look bigger.

“I… uh. I should go,” Rilla says, and Arum blinks at her for a moment in confusion before he nods very vigorously.

“You- you shouldn’t be here in the first place,” he says quickly, stiffly. “I don’t- this is- this was a warning,” he growls. “Next time I won’t be so-”

“We’re gonna be here for a couple weeks,” Rilla offers. “Maybe a month? My dad says we’re not supposed to disturb a single leaf if we can avoid it.”

“How very generous,” Arum sneers, “and how very unlikely. Humans always disturb things.”

Rilla tilts her head, frowning. “How many humans have disturbed you before?”

“I-” Arum jerks his head back, his tongue flicking out anxiously. “Well. That is-”

“Am… am I the first human you’ve ever met?” Rilla asks, a smile starting to creep across her face.

“N-” he growls louder for a moment, then shakes his head. “Well- you- I’m certainly the first monster that you’ve ever met,” he counters.

“Yeah,” she says, “obviously.”

“So-” he scowls, gesturing through the water with a clawed hand, “so why are you not afraid of me?”

It’s clear almost instantly that he hadn’t meant to say that. His scowl deepens, and he lowers himself back in the water until he’s pretty much in an alligator stance, with only the top half of his face glaring up at her from the cool green water.

“I…” Rilla stares at him, and- well, she hadn’t really thought about it. She was a little spooked when he snuck up on her, of course, but he hasn’t really done anything. He has claws and jagged teeth, but so does the big dog that lazes in Festival Square and begs for scraps. Just because Arum has them, doesn’t mean he’ll use them. It’s like her dad says- it’s not about the weapon, it’s about whoever wields it. Her parents have always taught Rilla to believe the evidence, and currently, Rilla’s interpretation of the evidence is that this monster is just as curious about her as she is about him. He keeps talking to her, and he hasn’t even tried to hurt her, and he hasn’t even really threatened anything. Rilla isn’t scared of him because he hasn’t been at all scary. “I don’t-”

“Amaryllis.” Her dad comes out of the undergrowth suddenly, at the bank of the pond, scowling but looking incredibly relieved. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you answer when we called?”

“I-” Rilla looks where Arum had been moments before, but of course he’s already gone. She wonders if he’s under the water, or if he somehow managed to slip away in the moments before her dad arrived. “I’m sorry,” she finishes lamely, kicking her way closer to the edge of the water. “I- I just didn’t wanna leave yet.”

Her dad smiles softly and holds his hands out to help lift Rilla out. “You can come back tomorrow,” he says as he sets Rilla back on her feet, and then he tucks a bit of loose hair behind Rilla's ear. “You’ve still got time, sweetheart.”

Rilla nods, and then she stares back at the water, holding her dad's hand. She watches the ripples fade, until the pond is precisely as serene as it was when she found it.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #<3<3 #enjoy i hope??#me: *writes ANOTHER au instead of finishing anything else i could be finishing*#please tolerate my nonsense #bouquet childhood friends au #penumbra au zone #made a garden

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