#the first tails is not a killer on purpose okay :((
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Silence fell in the musty, dirty corridors of Subterranean-Shunning Grounds. To those who have recently come here, it would seem unusual if they had the strength to experience something other than bone-chilling horror. The whole body were shaking, the heart was like a drum, even for those who were not here for the first time - the feelings experienced by each Omen during the next "raid". The voices of the lepers, often howling in agony and weakness, fell silent. Perhaps their bodies will soften in the drains, not yet picked up by anyone. It's a matter of time, soon the accursed will rise from hiding, and if they don't have time, then the rats will "take care" of the corpses and will eat enough. Both used the dead for the same purpose, but some of the Omens said that it's better to be eaten by their fellows than by rodents. However, when the time comes, it won't matter.
Mohg opened the door, which had begun to decompose from moisture, and looked around warily, craning his neck. There was no one outside, only the blood, which covered the walls and floor in wide splashes, imprinted in the memory of what had happened, as if it was still happening.
"No one" - the child concluded.
- Put something under the door. I think they'll be coming out soon too.
Mohg nodded and placed a beam that had broken off from an unnamed structure between the handles. This would not save them from the attackers, probably Morgott just wished that the room would become a secluded place for the two of them at least for a while and no strangers would disturb the peace.
- Morgott... are you okay? - Mohg could clearly see his brother's anxiety. Worried, he always tried to hide, at least ostensibly, just by pressing himself against the wall, besides, his tail was quivering and fluffed up.
- Did they hurt you? - Mohg continued, sitting down carefully.
When the twins were smaller, they were more successful at hiding from the Omenkillers - they could even hide in a box. With age, it became more difficult - pipes, lower sewer levels are used, which can hardly be called safe, but even meeting with a huge crayfish seemed a better option than with ruthless killers. At least, the first ones don't always attack.
- It's all right - Morgott said in a half-whisper, as if he was still waiting for a trap.
- Don't you need my help? If so, just tell me...
- No, no, please - Morgott closed his lips and grimaced.
Knowing perfectly well what was meant by the words "my help", he didn't want his brother to hurt himself again because of him.
- This is not required now. I'm just... I'm sorry you had to take the risk because of me. At least one of us has to move on, and you know who.
This time, Morgott was unlucky to be caught by the Omenkiller. The feeling of a rough grip on the hair still did not leave, sending nerve impulses. An attempt to hit with a spiked tail turned out to be a failure - they held him tightly and pulled on themselves, as if trying to break his neck, he couldn't even really move.
Perhaps he would have bled to death by now, and his horns would have been chopped off by grotesque weapons made from it, if Mohg hadn't helped. At that moment, his own skin was the least of his worries, and Morgott's words made his chest tighten. What's the point of surviving if he's left alone?
- Stop.
Mohg squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
- I can't listen to this.
- Forgive me.
Thoughts gnawing at the mind, about how he don't want to be a burden, and that even a deathbed fear would be more merciful than an endless feeling of worthlessness and defenselessness - probably it's all from a lot of anxiety. Not something to depress Mohg who is already forced to bear a huge responsibility.
- I'll figure something out, we'll figure it out. Whatever it takes, I promise you won't stay here. We will be together, happy, I know!
Sometimes Morgott wondered if his twin was convinced of this himself or if he was just comforting. "Happiness for Omens" sounded like something magical. If earlier Morgott liked to dream with his brother about the world they would create together, and, overcoming a painful weakness, painted this fairy tale on the walls of the sewer, now everything seemed like a fantasy. He wanted to believe it, but reality dictated otherwise.
- Morgott... - usually, "my dearest" was added after. Mohg stopped, touching Morgott's cheeks and tousled strands with his fingers.
In response, the twin timidly stretched out his arms and hugged his brother with the tail, silently expressing acceptance and a desire to protect.
Nothing else brought such joy. Flames seemed to light up in Mohg's eyes, and it was getting warmer inside. He looked into twin's eternally sad golden-honey eyes and froze, stroking the skin with his thumbs. Morgott is a true enchantment, the embodiment of the purity and strength of life of their blood ties. "What's the point of being and fighting if I'm left alone?" - It echoed again.
#elden ring#art#traditional art#fandom#morgott the omen king#morgott#morgott the grace given#mohg lord of blood#mohg#angst#not very positive art#the text is too big#thank you if you really read this 💓
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𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉
｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡
Not me having to do this twice because tumblr ate the first one
The single character are just the only character I will write for in their fandom because I only find them attractive (no I don't take question for my choice) But feel free to convince me otherwise with nice prompt
𝒟𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓃 𝐵𝒶𝓁𝓁
The Tyrant and His Pet (Yandere Frieza x Reader)
^ art to go with that story I said no oc but im also a hypocrite
Mine (Yandere King Cold x Adopted Reader) <- I will fuck his entire family excluding chill who look like a purple and orange dildo and kuriza whos a literal child
𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝐵𝓊𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓇
Contract (Alpha Sebastian x Omega Reader) I want a demon buler
𝒫𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 (𝐼’𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔)
Trainer and Pokémon are both okay (final evolution and grown up only)
Rage (Yandere Human Gyarados x Reader) no thought mind blank
Sacrifice (Yandere Human Volcarona x Reader) why did i write lava cum
Forbidden (Yandere Greninja x Reader) i will always love forbidden ninja love
Mate (Serperior x Reader) favorite starter no regret
Virus (Various Pokémon x Reader) no comment
Worship (Arceus x Reader) go big or go home
Fire (Arcanine x Reader) dog
𝐼𝓃𝓊𝓎𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒶
Heat (Sesshomaru x Half Demon Reader) <- first anime crush
𝒟𝒮𝑀𝒫 (𝒞! 𝒪𝓃𝓁𝓎)
I’m here (C!Philza x Cat Hybrid Reader) Im so fucking sorry
𝒜𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒞𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓂 (𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒’𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝒶𝒹𝓊𝓁𝓉)
Prey (Koro Sensei x Reader) Adult need special care
𝒪𝓃𝓂𝓎𝑜𝒿𝒾
Treasure (Yandere Tamamo no Mae x Reader) fluffy tails
𝒟𝒞
Criminal (Yandere Batman x Criminal Reader) I might have a type
Taboo (Brother Batman x Sister Reader) i was so fucking excited for this ;-;
𝐻𝒶��𝓇𝓎 𝒫𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 (𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝓊𝓅)
Purpose (Lucius Malfoy x Reader) I have some daddy issue
𝐻𝒶𝓏𝒷𝒾𝓃 𝐻𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓁 + 𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓊𝓋𝒶 𝐵𝑜𝓈𝓈
Deal (Alastor x Reader) not me remembering Alastor doesn't brush his teeth
Lust (Asmodeus x Succubus Reader) I love mister rooster guy
𝒞𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒 𝑅𝓊𝓃 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒹𝑜𝓂 (𝓈𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽)
Cookie & Cream (Yandere Dark Cacao x Reader x Yandere Pure Vanilla) It's definitely call cream, I don't take argument
𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶 (𝒴𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓊𝓂𝓃)
Princesa (Miguel O’hara x Reader) I love writing hate sex
Needs (Alpha Miguel O’hara x Beta Reader) I want this man to do so many illegal shit to me
Washing Machine (Miguel O’hara x Reader) help me stepbro
Needs and Wants (Omega Miguel O’hara x Beta Reader) this man has so many things that can do so many things to me
Protection (Bodyguard Miguel O’hara x Reader) I will pay big money for this man
Aphrodisiac (Miguel O’hara x Reader) he totally gaslighted you lol
Good Boy (Hybrid Miguel O’hara x Reader) the title has little to no correlation with the story
Mi Diosa (War God Miguel O’hara x Reader) The amount of Miguel i’m writing is getting ridiculous
Secret (Best Friend Miguel O’hara x Hero Reader) I want miguel so badly
Villain (Yandere Villain Miguel O’hara x Hero Reader) I need to remember this is a smut
Hatred (Various Miguel x Reader) i love angst
Killer (Ghostface Miguel O’hara x Shy (?) Reader) very thin line between shy and psychopathic
Little Spider (Stepdad Miguel O’hara x Reader) stepdad miguel lets goooooo
𝒥𝓊𝒿𝓊𝓉𝓈𝓊 𝒦𝒶𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓃
Leash (Wolf Toji x Reader) Bark bark
Master and Slave (Toji x Reader) No thought want Toji to [bleep] me
Discipline (Proffesor Nanami x Student Reader) Look at this beautiful mature responsible man
Liar (Sukuna x Reader) I think regular people will die if they fuck him
𝒮𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓁𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇
Jealousy (Ice Bear x Reader) *insert How bad can I be
Despise (John Wick x Reader) <- this is favorite will recommand
Wine (Thranduil x Reader) Im into some freaky shit
Game (707 x Reader) My beloved
Love (Yandere Kururu x Reader) I dont know why I love him I just do
Captain (Levi x Reader) You can break my neck
Pet (Slenderman x Reader) daddy long leg
𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓉
Pearls (Yandere Sea Monster x Mermaid Reader) I had to cut it because I was dragging it on for too long
Intertwine (Genderbend Parallel (?) x Reader) its just a little weird okay
Don't Leave (Yandere Dragon x Reader) Dragon, my love
Obsession (Yandere Wolf x Reader) I have no thought just head hurt, also want a wolf. Doesn't have to be a man just a wolf
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tell me MORE (/np)
Oh ho ho boy- where to start? This may get a bit wonky and I might sound a bit crazy.
Okay- so... first off Fanto and Dimitri are a lot alike. They both put on a killer show and crave attention and they both technically can not tell a lie (Dimitri's tail speaks his thoughts, Fantoccio was just said to have it by Katie- I'm not entirely sure why. Could have to do with Pinocchio or how Autistic people or honest or something else). And at a glance, they kind of have some visual similarities. For instance- they both have yellow eyes and a tannish- pallet.
Perhaps it's just an odd coincidence, but it's also been said at some point that Fanto was built to be like his creator. Someone with a flair for the dramatic who can't tell a lie? Seems pretty likely.
Now there are some definite issues revolving around this. We don't know enough about Dimitri to confirm or deny this. He certainly would be old enough to be Fantoccio's dad possibly as he knew Arthur and Aristotle. But this also suggests that at some point Dimitri owned a theater, knows how to carve puppets, can bring them to life, and is possibly Autistic. However, if he was Fanto's dad and owned a theater, why would he bother pretending to be a hero? Why would he use the gem to bring one or possibly more puppets to life? Wouldn't he be exhausted and busy?
I don't think Arthur and/or Aristotle would have created him though nor would I think they'd give up on him if they accidently left him (Ari might- thinking he's dead- but even still). Billie would have been already a couple months old when Fanto got stuck in the theater. Ari and/or Arthur just leaving behind what would essentially be their child, who as far as we know has very little to know knowledge about Billie. The timelines and character on that stuff seems odd. They also don't scream "theater kid" or "parent of a theater kid" as much as Dimitri.
I also keep just seeing other random things that make me just think it's a possibility even if it's not there. For example, "Dimitri" means "Follower of Demeter". Demeter is the Greek goddess of spring time who after losing her daughter Persephone to Hades caused the seasons to get cooler and does that every six months when her daughter returns to the underworld. Am I thinking too deeply into Dimitri's name to prove my point? Probably. Does Dimitri's name imply he could be a father in mourning after his child was trapped in the magic city? Does Dimitri care enough to make a child or worry about a child if he can't reach them? I don't know! All I know is he sets buildings on fire then acts like he's a hero to save people. Why does he do that? I don't know! Is it a coincidence that his name has to do with plants and trees and Fanto is technically a tree man? I believe yes, but I could list several characters named Dimitri that have nothing to do with plants or kids.
But in my heart- I feel like it makes the most sense. The devs are telling us barely anything about Dimitri purposely (supposedly the story might unravel, but that could be a joke) and Aristotle said that the gems were being used for evil (although that could be rewritten at this point). Dimitri is said to be an antagonist- so what if he was the last person to be seen with the yellow gem?
This theory feels a bit forced, but I swear, this feeling is hard to shake off. Only true confirmation I think I'll get is if we wait for the game to come out, be shocked and upset that it's Aristotle (that'll just be mega sad no matter how the chapter ends) or some third random person. If it turns out Dimitri's the missing dad who had a kid 7 years before Arthur (possibly more- I don't know if Dossylmeyer who has only been mentioned twice is even in the game), then I will be over the moon. If you read this whole thing, here are some pancakes 🥞Thank you for listening to my theory. I was going to make a more official post, but this can do for now. You also get this random image:
I might make an official venn diagram and stuff later when and if I do get information.
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Okay please tell me about this animorphs stuff because it seems like a WILD ride
Animorphs is an extremely moody and morose series of serialized mid-grade novels from the late 1990s (opinions vary on whether or not it's moody and morose enough to count as grimdark). They were everywhere when I was a little kid; you'd walk into an elementary school classroom at the beginning of the school year and there'd be six or seven Animorphs books already lying around, as if they'd spawned from the walls and floor or something. Unfortunately, they were produced in a very disposable, one-and-done way, and they're now out of print and semi-difficult to find as hard copies; for that reason, the author, K.A. Applegate, has explicitly advised fans to just pirate them. I've been finding a lot of them at public libraries instead, though, because I greatly prefer hard-copy reading when at all possible.
Applegate was a Midwestern housewife who co-developed and co-wrote the bulk of the series with her husband, Michael Grant. In addition to Grant, the later half of the series employed a bunch of other ghostwriters as well, although Applegate retained creative control and regularly vetoed what the ghostwriters were doing.
The premise of the books is that a group of five ordinary-ish teenagers stumble upon a crashed alien ("Andalite") spaceship and are given the ability to "morph" into different animals, subject to a two-hour time limit. They use this power to fight a guerrilla war against another alien species, the Yeerks, who are little grey slug-like creatures who take up residence in the brains of larger species and override their free will. For the bulk of the series none of them is sure who in their own families is and isn't a Yeerk; they know for a fact that at least two of their loved ones are. There's an atmosphere of paranoia that leads to increasingly toxic codependency as the Animorphs slowly lose the ability to trust, take any interest in, or care about non-Animorphs, although they do keep fighting for humanity as a whole.
The Animorphs are:
Jake. The leader of the group. "A dumb jock trying to play General Eisenhower." Likes basketball and the Offspring (which he just refers to as "Offspring" for some reason). From a secular Jewish family, although not completely secular since they light Sabbath candles. His brother, Tom, is known to be a Yeerk.
Rachel. Jake's cousin. A skinny blonde shopaholic and semi-serious hobbyist gymnast who develops worse and worse rage issues as the series goes on. Is she a brave soldier for humanity, or a violent maniac who gloms on to a good cause so she can avoid confronting the darkness within her? Neither; she's explicitly, textually both! She's my favorite.
Marco. Jake's best friend. A typical "funny" late 90s/early 2000s teenage boy with all the tastes and interests we generally associate with that--video games, South Park, Howard Stern. All that's missing is Family Guy. Of ambiguous sexuality and appears to be in love with Jake. Able to suddenly get incredibly serious, even ruthless, when he has to. His mother, Eva, is not only a Yeerk but an incredibly important and high-ranking one. Eva is Mexican Catholic but Marco doesn't appear to be religious.
Cassie. Rachel's best friend and Jake's love interest. From a middle-class black family that lives in a big farmhouse on the outskirts of town. Both of her parents are vets; her dad runs a wildlife rescue clinic and her mom works at a shitty for-profit zoo. The idealistic pacifist of the group, although she's a "kill 'em and then cry over 'em" pacifist and gets regularly dragged for this in-universe. Appears to be Catholic and at least semi-serious about it.
Tobias. Rachel's love interest. A mopey bully magnet with an unbelievably toxic and chaotic home life who accidentally-on-purpose gets stuck in morph as a red-tailed hawk in the first book and retains that as his default body for the rest of the series even once he regains morphing ability thirteen books in. A dreamer who's able to use his own ambivalent identity to build bridges between all sorts of different groups, but also has almost as much of a killer instinct as his girlfriend and occasionally makes calls that are even more coldhearted than Marco's.
A few books in they're joined by Aximili, an Andalite cadet trapped on Earth whose storylines alternate between goofy fish-out-of-water comedy and dark military psychodrama. For this reason, it's difficult for both the other characters and the reader to understand how they're expected to react or respond to Ax. Ax is technically Tobias's uncle since we find out Tobias's missing dad was an Andalite who became stuck in morph as a human.
As the books go on the morality is complicated significantly; the Animorphs resort to more and more repugnant tactics, and we find out that although the Yeerks' government and military brass are pure evil, a lot of individual Yeerks are just folks who've been dealt a crummy hand by evolution and have fallen for propaganda that they're justified in overriding other species' free will to "solve" this. There are Yeerks who believe it's wrong to take unwilling hosts, and Yeerks who wish they could find a middle way between being conquering slavemasters and "slugs beneath the Andalite hooves". Unfortunately, not many plotlines focus on them.
So that's Animorphs.
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Do sharks have friends? Do they visit their family or have reunions? Or siblings? Do they really hate dolphins or is that a stereotype thing?
Okay, lots of questions here to answers! I'll do them one-by-one.
Do sharks have friends?
Okay, so, sharks don't socialise the way people do, or mammals, or well- any other creature since they're Their Own Thing. BUT, in a way, some shark species do have friends.
A recent study by the Florida International University has shown that Grey Reef Sharks can, and do, hang out with the same sharks in the same place for years. The study was conducted at the Palmyra Atoll in the Pacific Ocean which is, jsyk, kinda remote so a great spot for researching this sort of thing.
Sharks aren't "social" animals exactly but they do have social groups. This is why you can see large groups of the same species in a relatively small area co-habiting without, ya know, eating each other or fighting. It is also why different shark species, when pressed, can inhabit the same area for the sake of survival (see Red Tide and Florida Canals).
Anyway, the research on Grey Reef Sharks found that they purposely associate with the same sharks year-after-year which suggests they can recognise each other and Know Who Is Their Mate and Who Is An Imposter.
This just in, Grey Reef Sharks would probably be great at Among Us.
[image source: sharksandrays.com]
All this said, they don't have friends the way we do as a social species that depends on social bonds for developmental and evolutionary purposes. For sharks, the "friend" thing is more like us going "fellow associate" at the regular office meeting where we mingle with Those We Vaguely Know because being alone is just asking for management to send us for a Team Building Seminar that we Really Don't Wanna Attend.
As it is, Grey Reef Sharks tend to form groups normally so a social structure has to exist for them in order to do that in the first place. Now, the idea that they can also travel and meet up with "friends" is something else. I happen to find that more fascinating than anything else ngl.
#SquadGoals
Do sharks visit family/siblings/have reuinions?
Again, like the friends thing, sharks don't have social groups the way we do. But they do have migratory patterns, often have a species specific breeding ground and nursey for their offspring so, in a way, sharks kinda do visit family and have reunions. Mostly by habit and not out of any real Social Building Desire.
[image source: cnet]
Do sharks really hate dolphins or is that a stereotye thing?
Sharks don’t hate dolphins. They’re afraid of them. Wary. Which, considering the fact that dolphins always end up in pods of dozens which will definitely be enought to kill one lone shark, kinda reasonable thing to be afraid of.
The thing is, there’s lots of reasons why sharks are at a disadvantage when faced with dolphins and only one of them is because dolphins swim around in gangs that just wanna fuck up a shark when it swims across their territory.
Phyisological differences between sharks and dolphins are also a reason.
Sharks have vertical tails that move from side-to-side which is good for quick swimming forward and maybe downward, but not exactly great for flexible movement and twisting. Dolphins have horizontal tails that move up--and-down which definitely gives them an edge on agility over sharks.
This means a shark can dart forward quickly and snap at a dolphin, but that dolphin can twist and use its tail to avoid the attack because of the way the spinal structure of sharks and dolphins differ. This is why, btw, when you swim like a mermaid underwater, you can twist much easier (our spines are literally perfect for that sort of thing with an up-down motion for swimming).
On top of this +10 agility that dolphins have, they also have stubby snouts which are great for blunt-force attacks. Coupled with their speed and agility, a dolphin can do real damage to a shark - even a Great White - if it can hit areas where soft tissue damage can occur, internal bleeding, or even manage to damage the gills.
A shark with damaged gills is a dead shark and that’s definitely something dolphins have figured out.
So whilst sharks don’t hate dolphins, if they had the ability to feel human emotions like “hate”, they would probably be absolutely fucking terrified of them more than anything else.
Also, side note: Orcas, Killer Whales, are dolphins not actual whales. The biggest threat to Great White Sharks (besides us) is the Orca. They like to dig out the liver of a Great White because it’s rich in nutrients. If I were a Great White, I’d swim like fuck away from the black-and-white wolves of the ocean ngl.
[image source: illumina news]
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B is for Blindfolds
Summary: The BAU Christmas party is held at the office. Penelope is full of terrible ideas, but somehow Emily’s are worse.
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, use of a blindfold (for a fun game, not anything sexy here), pining, idiots who don’t realise their love is reciprocated as HELL (they will, but not quite yet).
Word count: 3k
A/N: okay so i really had fun writing this one!!! i have a solid solid direction of where this is headed now and i’m EXCITED about it! as always, please let me know what you think :) this is technically Wednesday’s update, and there’ll be another on Friday!
This is the second chapter of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand alone.
The team, yourself included, are more than ready to let off a little steam. There was no point trying to book anywhere in advance, not with the sporadic nature of festive serial killers, so you’d taken over the office. Penelope had, in eager anticipation of your return, decked it out like a winter wonderland.
“Seriously, it looks like someone robbed a grotto,” Emily had joked.
She wasn’t wrong. A seven-foot Christmas tree, God knows how she’d smuggled that into the building, obscured the hallway outside Hotch’s office. It was dripping in tinsel, baubles, you name it. It even had a nutcrucker man. Mistletoe was hung, obviously in a way she believed to be covert, and maybe it would have been if you weren’t all deeply familiar with the antics of Penelope I-Love-The-Holidays Garcia. You’re all careful to sidestep it as you walk in, knowing she’s a stickler for the rules. All equally reluctant to invoke her wrath before a glass of eggnog or two.
On the table, there’s a selection of alcohol laid out. Alongside a bunch of pink glittery cups.
“I got everything!” Penelope chirps.
“I can see that baby girl,” Morgan chimes in, greeting her with a hug.
She really has: there’s juice, fruit, almost every liquor you can think of (including the fancy whiskey that Rossi and Hotch like to get out at dinner), wine of varying colours, and what looks to be some fancy fruit cider. From the spread, and the mischevious twinkle in her eye, you’re sure she won’t be letting you escape unscathed.
At that thought, you can’t help but steal a glance to your right.
Spencer. The man is stood next to you with folded arms, surveying the options in a way that almost looks pensive.
Got to behave myself
I will behave myself
Will he be drinking?
That question is answered when he takes a step towards the table, stepping behind it. He picks up a plastic cup and, playing bartender, asks.
“So, what can I get you?”
***
“Mixology is pretty much the same as any other kind of chemistry,” Spencer explains, gesturing with the hand that’s holding his cup and swilling the liquid, “It’s about balancing the right components to get the combination you want. A lot of the recipes call for more alcohol than is strictly necessary for the flavour they provide. Usually the other elements of the drink are designed to bring out the flavour or mask it, depending on what alcohol you’re using. Almost always you want to mask the taste of vodka, but tequila you try to balance it out.”
Spencer is leant on the desk next to you, rambling, having been allowed to be in charge of making everybody’s drinks over the past couple of hours.
Sipping the concoction he’s made you, you have to admit he’s done a pretty good job.
He clearly agrees, since he’s consumed more than a couple himself. He’s just tipsy enough to push at the boundaries of affection, his shoulder pressing against yours, his happy eyes a little glassy. You listen, hanging on every word he says, watching him lick his lips before he continues speaking again.
“That’s why they serve tequila shots with lime and salt.”
“And here I was thinking they were just making it fun for body shots,” Emily cuts in, making Morgan and Penelope laugh.
You see the look on Penelope’s face and intercept her before she can start, “Don’t even think about it.”
“But!”
“No!” You shake your head, “You really think Hotch is going to go for body shots?”
Hotch laughs dryly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing, “That’s one I think I’ll refrain from participating in.”
“Fine,” Penelope pouts, “But everybody’s doing pin the tail on the donkey!”
“Pin the tail on the donkey? What are we, 5 years old?” Emily laughs.
You lean in against Spencer, who has been quietly surveying the last few moments. Your fingers slip slightly beneath his buttoned sleeves, coming to rest on his forearm.
“Balance,” You whisper quietly.
He nods, shifting to allow you to lean more closely into him on the desk.
It’s hard not to get distracted by your proximity to him.
It’s only because you’re drunk.
Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. If you squinted, you might just look like a couple. That’s certainly what it looks like to Dave, who gives you a cursory once over before training his gaze elsewhere. Your heads are almost touching, Spencer is slouching but keeps his neck just stiff enough to avoid resting atop of yours. You’re casually against his body, the two of you strewn across the desk. It looks comfortable, familiar.
It feels comfortable, familiar.
It’s only because you’re drunk.
***
After a singular round of pin the tail on the donkey, during which a blindfolded Emily decided to go rogue and try to pin the tail on the moving-very-quickly-out-of-dodge Hotch, it’s decided the blindfolds will be used for a different purpose.
Trust falls.
Well, not so much trust falls, as you’re each blindfolded and tasked with the challenge of walking across the bullpen without falling.
“We’ll pair up!” Penelope announces, rubbing her hands together with glee, “Hotch you’re with Rossi, Emily you’re with me, Derek you’re with ____, and Spencer you’re with J.J!”
Oh
You will away the tinge of disappointment that flares in your chest at not having been paired with Spencer. Although, when you look up at him, you swear you can see a similar feeling sitting behind his eyes.
Probably reading too much into it
“Reid has an unfair advantage,” J.J argues, interrupting your thoughts.
“How do I have an unfair advantage?” Spencer asks.
“Eidetic memory,” She replies.
There are murmers of dissent, then Rossi pipes up.
“If you can’t make it across the bullpen you walk everyday without falling, I think you seriously need to consider whether you should be out in the field with a gun.”
Everybody laughs. They laugh more, though, when Rossi falls on his first attempt, crashing into Hotch. The two decide to resign from the game after that. Hotch plays the health and safety card, but privately you think it’s the double whiskeys that have betrayed him.
“You think you can do it?” You ask Spencer.
He smirks, “I could do it in my sleep.”
You shake your head, “Your legs are too long. You’re like Bambi at the best of times, let alone three mai tais in.”
“Two,” He objects, you quirk a brow and he relents, “Fine, three. And a whiskey Rossi gave me which was awful. I drank it fast and then he told me that one glass I’d had would cost $40. Who would pay $40 to drink that voluntarily?”
“Rossi, Hotch, Emily,” You smile, nudging him with your elbow, “And don’t think you’ve distracted me Spence, I’m still betting you fall.”
“You’re betting?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re that confident in my ability to mess up,” He teases.
“Something like that.”
He grins, “You’ll see.”
He takes the blindfold when it’s his turn, smirking at you as he adjusts it onto his face. It’s with a great degree of annoyance that you watch him clear the bullpen in five easy, and somehow very elegant, steps.
“Go Spence!” J.J cheers, her previous displeasure completely forgotten.
“Pretty boy!” Morgan cheers.
Without taking the blindfold off, Spencer tilts his head to exactly where you’re standing, smirking, “You wanna go next, ____?”
It’s hard not to visibly react to what his cockiness does to you.
You swallow, “Fine. Give it here.”
***
You move your feet confidently one in front of the other. After almost a year of walking the bullpen, you’re pretty certain you can get across it unscathed. You even remember to swing your hip to the right to miss the Santa gnome gone fishing currently hanging off Derek’s desk. In doing so, however, you manage to get yourself all caught up.
With a single step, you feel yourself slipping, arms flailing and managing to catch on to absolutely nothing. You panic.
"Spencer!"
"Spencer?!"
Spencer.
You recognise the feeling of his hands steadying you at your waist. He pulls you against his body, tucking your outstretched arm into him to steady you. You vaguely register Derek’s amused chuckle from behind you.
“I got you,” Spencer says, “Stay still, I’ll take the blindfold off.”
His hands gently slide up your cheeks, lifting it with care to avoid yanking on your hair. He pulls it up and away from your head smoothly.
The lights are dizzyingly bright. You blink rapidly, allowing your eyes to adjust on the face of the slightly concerned, slightly amused looking Spencer hovering above you. His left hand lingering against your cheek. You forget yourself entirely, lost in the intimacy of his touch, barely daring to blink in case it’s gone.
“Mistletoe!” Penelope cackles with glee, breaking your reverie.
“What?” You ask.
Spencer looks up. You follow his gaze, seeing the strategically placed mistletoe. In guiding you to safety, Spencer had walked right into Penelope’s trap.
Oh.
Derek teases something, underscored by a quip from Emily that has them both in hysterics. Neither you or Spencer are really listening.
He’s already so close to you. The pressure of his hand on your cheek starting to make you flush with warmth. His thumb strokes downwards, over your cheekbone. You tilt yourself a little towards him. Trying desperately to act casual, but ultimately failing miserably. His breath fans over your face, smelling faintly of rum and lime.
“Not like this,” He whispers, so quiet that only you can possibly hear him.
He presses a kiss to your cheek instead.
Fuck.
“Very exciting stuff guys,” Emily chirps.
Vaguely, you’re aware of J.J admonishing her, Rossi’s eyes studying you, Derek’s laughter, Penelope’s squeal of delight that someone had finally fallen into her trap.
Your heart thumps in your chest, and you wonder if it’s loud enough for Spencer to hear. From the way he swallows thickly, stepping back with a degree of caution and a look of a deer caught in the headlines, you think it probably was.
Fuck.
What did he mean not like this?
***
After the mistletoe debaccle, the party starts to die down a little. Hotch makes an excuse to leave, shortly followed by Rossi.
You stick around for a little while longer, devoting most of your time to the decidedly tipsy Penelope who’s hanging off Derek’s arm. The mood is nice, actually, a welcome change from the tense atmosphere that often clouds the bullpen, and its occupants wherever in the US they may be.
It’s a little after 1am when you decide to make your exit.
“Do you want to share an Uber?” You ask Spencer, gripping onto his elbow as he walks past.
“Yeah! I was planning on taking the metro but you’ll be safer in an Uber.”
“Are you...sharing it with me?” You ask, feeling a little awkward at having to repeat the request for clarification. The tipsiness you’d initially felt has started to wear off; it leaves both tiredness and an odd shyness in its place.
“Oh no! Of course!” He smiles, grabbing his satchel from where it’s slung over the back of his chair, “We’ll get them to drop you off first, then me.”
***
The wait for the Uber is silent, but not uncomfortable. You loll against Spencer, comfortable in the quiet. The only sounds to be heard of keys as various other agents leave the building. It’s easy to tell which are coming from the grind of the paperwork and which are coming from their own parties. You’d like to attribute it to a years worth of profiling experience but the tinsel around Jerry from White Collar Crimes’ neck is a tad on the nose.
You don’t speak until it arrives, climbing in and closing the door. Clicking your seatbelt into place.
“Sorry about embarassing us before,” You say, purposely being ambiguous.
He squints at you for a moment before opening his mouth, “You mean calling for me when you fell?”
“Yeah,” You say,
“You didn’t embarass me,” He says, quiet, “It was nice actually. Nobody’s ever called for me when they’ve been in trouble before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I uh, I guess I’m not the most athletic. People usually go to Morgan if they need some kind of physical help. It was nice. That you wanted me. Even if you are drunk.”
“I’d have asked for you sober,” You admit.
He squints in response, and you continue, “I trust you Spence. I trust you to always have my back in the field, to protect me. I’d trust you with my life. I mean, of course I’d trust any one of the others, the team wouldn’t work otherwise. But,” You trail off, a little embarassed.
“But it’s different.”
“Yeah. Like you’re the person I’m closest to I guess. In the almost year I’ve been here, we’ve worked together the most. I think I have the best working relationship with you. If ever there was a crisis, I’d want you. Even if the crisis is me tripping on my own shoelaces while blindfolded.”
You both laugh at that. It’d be easy to succumb to a comfortable silence again, let the moment fizzle out.
“I think the same about you,” He says, his voice cracks a little with the sincerity, “Whenever anything goes wrong. You’re the person I want to talk to.”
You move your hand forward to close the gap between you two, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “I’m really glad we have each other Spence.”
“Even when I beat you?” The playful glint in his eye is back.
“Even when you beat me.”
“If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you actually owe me for losing the bet.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, you said ‘I’m still betting you fail.’“
You smile, “We never agreed what we were betting.”
“We didn’t.”
"So what do you want as your prize then, Rudolph?”
“Rudolph?” He laughs a little, incredulously.
“Well I called you Bambi before and obviously you’ve proved you’re more talented, I needed to pick a respectably agile deer.”
“Rudolph was known for his nose, not his agility.”
“The song says he guided the sleigh Spence, he couldn’t have done that if he wasn’t agile.”
He shakes his head at you, “He was just in charge of the lights.”
“Did they or did they not get around the world safely?”
“The song never clarifies that.”
“It’d be a little dark for them to kill off Rudolph.”
“Probably why they didn’t include it in the song.”
You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “Well anytime you decide to stop nitpicking my compliments and decide what you want as your prize is fine by me, honestly.”
He smiles, obviously having decided to answer you sincerely. You study him as he, presumably weighs up his options, his teeth momentarily catching his plush lower lip. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your mouth. But then you blink, and he’s studying you thoughtfully.
Just wishful thinking
"Caramel,” He settles on.
"Caramel?”
“Last year I went to this coffee shop and I got their festive caramel coffee. It was amazing. But they only did it that one year, they gave me the recipe for the syrup but...” He trails off, looking embarassed, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, “I kept burning it. I had a thermometer but I couldn’t get the temperature quite right.”
"You want me to make you caramel syrup for coffee? Mixologist skills don’t extend quite that far?”
He doesn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Almost as if he’s worried for your reaction.
You're quick to follow yourself up, “Well I’d be happy to give it a try, but I think I’ll need somebody to taste test it. Make sure I’m getting it right.”
He grins, “I’m probably a better taste taster than maker.”
“Well, we’re off for a few days, assuming we don’t get any cases. You’re at Ethan’s for Christmas, right? When are you back?”
“The 27th. But I’m going to visit my mom over new years, so I’m leaving again on the 30th.”
You nod, “Well, how about the 28th?”
“The 28th sounds good.”
It’s impossibly good (bad) timing that the Uber pulls up outside your building.
“Well I’ll look forward to it,” You say, undoing your seatbelt.
“Me too.”
There’s a silence. Not uncomfortable, but definitely not like the one earlier. Your eyes linger on one another, almost cautious. There’s a buzz in the air, one that can't quite be attributed to alcohol.
Ask him what he meant by not like this
No
Ask him
“This your place?” The Uber driver asks, clicking his tongue with a degree of impatience.
“Yeah,” You reply, nodding. Reluctantly, you push open the car door, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Spencer as you depart.
His mouth hangs open a little, words seeming to play across his lips. Not making them out of his mouth. The driver clears his throat, and you throw him an apologetic glance. Spencer’s Uber rating will be in the toilet after this.
Good job he takes the Metro.
"Have a good Christmas Spence,” You say, wondering if he can tell. Wondering if he can sense how badly you want to stay, to let this Uber drive you around the backstreets of Virginia. They’re not particularly pretty. But there isn’t much you wouldn’t do just to spend time with him. You’d even allow yourself to promise caramel syrup you know you’ll butcher.
If he knows, the wistful look in his eyes doesn’t betray it.
“Have a good Christmas, _____.”
---
Next part: C is for Caramel
Series tagslist: @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose
(message me/reply to this to be added or removed!)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#reid x reader#imagine spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagines#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#imagine criminal minds#criminal minds x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#a-z of spencer reid#the a-z of spencer reid
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neither calm nor quiet
BTHB: Trapped In A Net
warnings: miscommunication, past familial and domestic abuse mentions, injury, violence, terrible decision making skills
-
When Virgil finally decided to brave shallower waters, it had already been nearly half a moon cycle since Logan had vanished.
He’d made excuses at first, telling himself that the dread he felt was just his normal brand of overwrought paranoia. For the first few days, he was half-convinced that his curiosity-prone friend would appear at any moment, probably lugging some sort of stray litter or ‘interesting human artifact’ along with him to explain why he’d been late.
Things would be normal again. Virgil would find some rocks for them to sun on and Logan would ramble on about the potential uses of his find, and maybe Virgil would teasingly suggest some outlandish way the trash was secretly a violent human weapon, just to hear Logan thoroughly refute it.
After another three days passed with no sign of the other selkie, Virgil was forced to let that fantasy fade. Logan had never been this late before, not even that time he’d managed to carry an entire minifridge along with him for Virgil to identify.
Something had to have happened to him.
He’d spent the next week scouring the currents for any sign of his missing friend, even approaching other pods and asking around, requesting that they keep an eye out for any signs of Logan. He didn’t expect much from that; the two of them didn’t socialize with other selkies often enough to make any friends, and their two-person pod was too small to spare any food during winter, so there was nothing for the other pods to gain by helping them.
Virgil knew better than most how selfish pod politics could be.
Every few days, he would return to their meeting spot and catch a few hours of sleep to keep himself from crashing, always naively hoping that Logan would be there when he woke. He never was.
In the end, he had to face what he’d already known from the beginning: either Logan was dead, or he’d gone onland and gotten himself bound by a human.
He didn’t want to believe Logan had decided to brave the human world even after Virgil’s many, many warnings against it, but believing the alternative was even worse. So, he steeled himself to do the one thing he’d sworn to never do again, and headed for the cold, rocky shores of the nearest human settlement.
Naturally, he spent so long swimming back and forth between different stretches of beach, trying to force himself to take those literal first steps, that he didn’t notice the woven fibers dancing in the water until he’d plowed right into them.
A fishing net, dyed skillfully to blend in with the water, and large enough that when he tried to twist out of it, he only became further entangled.
Panic set in, then, clouding his mind and leaving him thrashing ineffectively like a simple animal. He couldn’t help it-- he couldn’t breathe underwater in either form, had no gills to keep him steady as he was dragged along by the current. He couldn’t untangle himself while adrift, couldn’t find solid ground while tangled. He would drown.
Between one blink and the next, he found himself in open air, gritty sand pressed against his face. Waves crested gently around him, a sharp contrast to the headache pounding around in his skull.
He never thought he’d be relieved about blacking out and beaching himself, but then, he’d never been worried about drowning in his own element before.
Okay. There weren’t any humans around to see the stupid idiot seal stuck on the beach. This was still salvageable.
Taking a deep breath, he attempted to bite through the netting with his incisors, and got a mouthful of sore gums for his trouble. The dyed fibers seemed to be woven around a base net of fishing wire, because of course they were. He let his head thunk back to the sandy ground, groaning at the new surge of pain the motion caused.
Sun-warmed saltwater continued to wash over his tail, and he blinked slowly, measuring his breaths. He could figure this out. He wouldn’t dry out. He just needed a moment to put himself back together. He could… He…
His eyelids grew heavy, and everything went dark.
-
Roman thought the guy was a pile of garbage at first, to be quite honest.
Not on purpose, of course! But, come on, when one sees a mound of mystery washed up on shore, it generally ends up being a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around half-rotted driftwood, not a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around beautiful strangers wearing expensive-looking fur coats!
His next thought, once he’d gotten closer, was that the beautiful stranger wearing the expensive-looking fur coat was dead, and that a body had washed up on his little strip of shoreline. Pallid skin, blue lips, and deep shadows under their eyes-- the beautiful stranger wasn’t exactly giving off an aura of vim and vigor.
He’d spent a few moments staring at his contact list, trying to figure out what in the world he was supposed to do about a body. Should he call 911? … Should he call Remus?
Before he could make a decision either way, he finally picked up on the shallow rise and fall of the beautiful stranger’s chest, and realized that they were still alive! Potentially not for much longer, laying out in the cold all soggy like that, but Roman could work with mostly alive!
And so, he found himself here, carefully carrying the small but surprisingly dense stranger up to his home by the cliffs, and risking looking like a total serial killer doing it.
He couldn’t help but theorize as he walked. A beautiful stranger in expensive clothing, tangled in nets with what appeared to be a head wound… It read like an old unsolved case in a detective novel, where the mysterious stranger in question got in too deep with some dangerous people and ended up clubbed over the head and dumped into a river to tie up loose ends.
“Except you managed to survive, obviously,” Roman said to them, mostly to reassure himself. He really had to stop eavesdropping on Remus’s true crime podcasts. “And you made your way to me! Excellent choice, I’m great at nursing people back to health. Probably. I don’t have much practical experience, but, you know, I’ve read extensively about this exact thing. In romance novels. As one does.”
The beautiful and mysterious stranger continued to be unconscious. Roman was starting to feel grateful for it.
His house was empty, thankfully, since his brother had work to attend to today. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before pushing the door open and carrying the stranger inside, sighing with relief at the warm air.
“That’s got to feel much better, hm?”
He sat the stranger down in the foyer, removing his shoes to go grab some scissors from the kitchen.
“First order of business,” he announced in his best announcer voice, “getting all that netting off of you. While I’m sure you could rock fishnet leggings, fish nets on their own just don’t have the same je ne sais quoi, you know? Also, they look very uncomfortable. You’re great at staying still, so just keep that up.”
He carefully cut his way through the looser parts of netting, pulling it off piece by piece until all that was left were the abrasions where they’d formerly cut into skin. Roman had no idea how they’d even managed to get that tangled up, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It couldn’t have been pretty.
In the process of removing the net, however, he’d noticed another rather pressing matter.
Going by the flash of thigh he’d accidentally witnessed while shifting the net around, the stranger definitely wasn't wearing anything under that fur coat of theirs. Like, nothing.
(Exactly what kind of situation had the stranger been in before this?!)
Even so, leaving them in a sodden coat couldn’t be good for their constitution. Or his poor couch’s upholstery.
Roman spent a few moments puzzling the situation out before coming up with a brilliant solution. He retrieved the fluffy gold comforter from his bed and draped it over the stranger, covering their front half with it. Then, he carefully worked their arms out of the coat’s sleeves, very pointedly not focusing on the adorable freckled shoulders this operation revealed. Finally, he tugged the entire coat out from behind them, wincing at the slight furrow that appeared in their brow.
“Sorry, sorry, I know the cold floor can’t be comfortable…”
Soggy coat removed, he was free to continue bundling the rest of the comforter around the stranger’s back, therefore making it easy for him to pick them up in a neat little bundle of blanket and deposit them on the couch. No nudity awkwardness required!
Pleased with his solution, he draped a fluffy towel over the stranger’s head and carefully dried some of the dampness from their hair. Next, he wasted no time in stoking the fire higher in his hearth, sending waves of warmth into the room and making it so the stranger’s skin didn’t look quite so clammy.
Once he’d cleaned up the mess left in the foyer and grabbed the first aid kit from under his sink, he planted himself in a chair next to the couch, feeling ready to handle anything.
“Okay, Google. How do I treat a head wound?”
-
Virgil felt as though he’d woken to a nightmare.
He was in the wrong body, surrounded on all sides by heavy fabric and warm air, and his coat was missing. That list of facts alone was just about as bad as any night terror he’d had.
The humming was unusual, though.
A soft tune, occasionally broken up by a half-muttered lyric or two, carried through the air, voice completely at ease. His mother had never sung to him in front of others, and it sure as hell wasn’t his father.
He tried to remember where he’d been last. The back of his head stung… he’d ended up on a beach? The tide had been turning, from high to low… He must have dried out up there, changed into his less durable form. And now he was warm and dry.
He clenched his fists weakly and grit his teeth, knowing that a human had found him and stolen him away. Just like his mother. He’d come to find Logan and lost himself before ever even starting. Typical.
“Are you with us, Sleeping Beauty?” a bright voice asked.
The humming had broken off while he was absorbed in his thoughts, and now he could hear the shift and rustle of movement next to him. He opened his eyes, already aiming the coldest possible glare at his captor.
He was sort of surprised to find that the human sitting at his side wasn’t holding his coat. His father used to make a point of handling his mother’s coat at any opportunity. He’d liked to watch his mother stare at it, resting assured that so long as he held it in his possession, she could do him no harm.
This human was much younger than his father had been, probably around as old as Virgil was now. He had dark skin and soft eyes that reflected the firelight, and he was smiling hopefully at Virgil.
“Hello there! It’s excellent to see you looking a little more lively! I was starting to think about actually calling the hospital, heh.”
Wordlessly, Virgil slowly shifted to sit up, shoving the thick blanket out and shaking the cloth from his head. He looked down, confirming what he already knew. No coat. The human hadn’t even bothered to dress him up in human trappings to ‘make up’ for the absence.
“Ah, yeah... I sort of basically pulled you out of the ocean and what little you were wearing was completely soaked.” The human rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I figured it’d be less of an invasion of privacy to just let you get dressed yourself once you woke up?”
Oh, the human was worried about his privacy? What a joke.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, truly!” the human continued, oblivious to Virgil’s rising ire. He gave a mocking little bow, pretending to respect the one he’d abducted. “My sincerest apologies.”
He was done playing along with mind games like these. Better to let the human know where they stood right off the bat.
“I’m going to kill you,” Virgil promised, and then lunged for the human’s jugular.
To his genuine surprise, he actually made contact, hands clamping onto the junction between collar and throat. The human let out a high-pitched yelp as his chair toppled over, taking both of them with it.
Virgil landed knee-first on the human’s sternum, and paused to blink down at the wheezing stranger, who apparently had been so confident in the weakness of his victim that he hadn’t bothered to bind Virgil from harming him in advance.
Unless.
His grip loosened slightly, just in time for the human’s fist to catch him squarely in the mouth. He threw himself backwards, rolling with the force of the motion to get some distance and hunkering in a crouch. It had been too long since he’d been active in this form, his sense of balance was in shambles.
The human scrambled to his feet, and grabbed the back of the chair, eyes wild. He thrust it out between them like a barrier, as though it could prevent any more strangulation attempts.
“What is wrong with you?!” he shrieked, voice cracking as his gaze flickered back and forth between Virgil and some far off point. “I tenderly nursed you back to health, and your response is to try and murder me? Unfair! Cruel! Rude!”
“Where is my coat?” Virgil replied, voice hoarse and split lip stinging. A test, because humans were tricky and loved to lie.
“Your— your coat?” The human pulled up short, head tilting slightly in a bewildered manner. A convincing actor, if nothing else. “Is that what all this is about? I put it on the coat hanger to dry! I know better than to try and wash someone’s fancy fur coat without permission, yeesh.”
A low warning growl in the back of his throat, Virgil turned his gaze from the current threat and followed the gesture the human had made.
Sure enough, there it was. His freedom, draped on a peg in the open with all the rest of the human’s fabric outer layers like some common garment.
“Do you… want me to get it— eep!” The human lifted the chair back up in paltry defense as Virgil snarled at him. He rose up and crossed the distance to his pelt in five wobbly strides, before the human could try and return it to him and lock them both into a loveless marriage.
Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as he quickly wrapped his second skin around him, that grounding weight settling back where it belonged. He still couldn’t shift back, not here, but the ocean was close enough to taste in the air.
The human was still huddled defensively by the fireplace, looking indignantly bewildered and not at all like he knew he’d just given up the perfect opportunity to control Virgil.
Which meant that-- barring some incredibly convoluted scheme-- he really had no idea. And Virgil had tried to strangle him, even if under false pretenses. He drew the edges of his pelt closer around him, rolling the beginnings of an apology around in his mind.
-
The mysterious stranger was still glaring at Roman like they were contemplating continuing to try and strangle him to death at any moment.
He’d brought a half-drowned stranger into his home and tenderly treated their injuries, and what had he received in return for his efforts? A murder attempt, which now that he thought about it was maybe an outcome he should have considered earlier. Remus would never let him live this down.
Assuming he lived long enough for his brother to give him shit about it, that was.
The stranger seemed to at least be a little calmer now that their reclaimed coat was thoroughly wrapped around them, rendering them more lump-shaped than person. Roman felt much more secure in glaring back, too.
He set his impromptu shield/chair down firmly on the floor. “I have no idea what your problem is, Gloomy B. Jones, but where I’m from, the response to someone saving you from dying of hypothermia is ‘thank you’, not a strangulation attempt!”
The murderglare intensified. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“Yes,” Roman said, disbelieving, “because you were too busy being unconscious. On the beach. In 40-below temperatures!”
“That’s my problem, not yours,” the stranger responded snappishly.
Roman threw his hands in the air, but his impending frustrated rant was impeded by the sight of a stifled flinch running through the stranger. Feeling a stab of guilt, he lowered his arms slowly before continuing.
“It seems I made it my problem when I dragged your soggy self all the way to my house, so--”
“Great news for you, then: I’m leaving.” Baring their teeth in a distinctly unfriendly manner, the stranger turned to do just that.
“Hold it!” Roman called, alarmed. “You’re going into town like that?! People will think you’re a flasher!” Even his brother wouldn’t go out dressed in nothing but an oversized coat. ... Probably.
The stranger paused, squinting at him warily. Roman took it as a cue to continue.
“Look, clearly we got off on the wrong foot here. Several wrong feet. Let’s try again. I’m Roman Faroe, I work for the local newspaper, and you are…?”
“None of your business,” replied the stranger, with all the stubborn petulance of a toddler digging their heels in and refusing to move whilst smack dab in the middle of an overcrowded supermarket.
“Would you like me to call you ‘Almost-Corpse-I-Dragged-Off-The-Beach?’ Perhaps make up a thematic nickname or two for you? Because let me tell you, this is exactly how you get called--,”
“Hold on,” the stranger cut him off, a realization seeming to dawn on him, “did you say you worked for the news?”
“Yes, I mean, the newspaper not the news. Although I’m sure I’d make an excellent anchor,” Roman gestured to all of himself for effect, “my true passion lies in my carefully curated romantic advice column!”
“So, you get all the information in town,” continued the stranger, who had a strange glint in their eye.
“I mean, if you want to be a nerd about it.”
“How about this.” The stranger stepped forward, straightening out of their defensive slouch for the explicit purpose of being just tall enough to loom over Roman. “You want to know my name? I’ll tell you, if you help me track down something important that I lost.”
An investigative quest for a mysterious MacGuffin? Roman swallowed, feeling his heart flutter wildly with what felt less like intimidation and more like excitement. He could totally keep his cool, he just had to open his mouth and say something suave.
“I also want to know your origin story,” he opened his mouth and babbled instead.
The stranger narrowed their eyes for a moment, and Roman belatedly remembered the near-strangulation. Perhaps he shouldn't be agitating a femme fatale type, what with all the emphasis on the fatale.
To his surprise, it only took a moment before they capitulated, sticking a hand out. “Fine. After my thing gets done.”
Roman shook gladly, trying not to shiver at the cool touch. Had they checked to make sure the stranger wasn’t hypothermic yet? “It’s a deal, then.”
“Great.” They twisted on their heel, stalking to the door. “Let’s get this over with, already.”
“Hold on there, Surly Temple.” Roman called, hand on his hip. “I hate to break it to you, but if you go into town mostly naked, the only news we’ll be hearing about will be your immediate arrest.”
The stranger glanced down at his attire, and then released the door handle with a low sigh. “... Pants first?”
“Pants first.”
#sanders sides#ts virgil#ts roman#selkie AU#bthb#bad things happen bingo#writing#my writing#neither calm nor quiet#ncnq#oneshot#... theoretically#disclaimer: do not do anything roman does here#he is a lucky fool#logan is fine btw#theoretically.#i feel like im forgetting tags. well whatever#selkies
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Fic Recs (mostly Naruto cause I read too many good fics in the fandom and now I'm in hell)
[Naruto]
Spirit-Touched by phooykazooi
Once upon a time, the Haruno clan were priests. It was said that they were spirit-touched, and that they walked among the downtrodden and the poor, and did not bow to royalty.
Or, an AU in which Sakura can see spirits.
Part 1 of The Realms Between
(Really, and I mean REALLY fantastic Shikamaru & Sakura friendship! Fantastic, beautiful writing, and such good worldbuilding, god, and the Haruno family is so badass!! Sakura and everything she does makes me want to scream!! Please read!)
Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip
Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)
(Iruka! Is! The! Best! Teacher! Ever! End of story!!! Great interpretation of all the characters and their capabilities and I am so so excited for the sequel that will undoubtedly come! XD)
Celestial Bodies by Oceanbreeze7
Sasuke looked at the fire, eyes glowing red as the mutated corrupted seal on his throat. "Amaterasu blessed me. I see things. Like you with two normal eyes and the Hokage.
And Sakura with a seal on her forehead.
And I run Chidori through Naruto's heart. I keep trying to kill him.
Over and over.
And that knuckleheaded idiot never gives up.”
(Don't you get it? I saw it.
The moon will bleed, the nations will die. The world is going to end.)
Part 1 of Celestial Bodies and Anomalies
(I swear, this fic freaking elevated my expectations on Sasuke-centric fics in general holy hell. Also, read the fucking sequel after this cause EVERYTHING GOES NUTS AND THE PLOT GOES OFF AND I'M HERE FOR THIS SHIT. Fucking Uchihas man. Also, you wouldn't think this series is funny, but it is, and it's amazing.)
A step to the left (and right off the cliff) by weavingBlue
Team Seven starts off on a different foot and Sasuke's canonical journey to get stronger goes off the rails a bit. It all works out though. Probably.
(This fic went in a direction I didn't expect and it's GLORIOUS. SO FUNNY, I honestly was dying while I was reading this. Please give this a chance!!)
promises by BombsAreForBabies
It's her first kiss and Naruto's last. She promises him that she will bring Sasuke home. It's his dying wish, after all.
(Naruto bleeds out faster than the kyuubi can heal him.
Sakura learns that being a ninja is more than fancy jutsu and fun.
Sasuke does not know that he just killed his best friend and turned his most loyal comrade into his worst enemy.)
(Listen LISTEN I know this sounds depressing but the relationship developments and slow healing is EVERYTHING and I think it's absolutely worth it to read this. Sakura's characterization is so good and Kakashi makes me want to hug him. A lot.)
Fang Under Fang by Vroomian
"Are we sure he's really an Inuzuka?"
(The answer is no.)
-
Someone reborn as Inuzuka Kiba not only has to deal with bullshit ninja magic, but soulmates being A Thing.
(Really good self-insert fic and its platonic soulmates, not romantic! I am always here for a good Kiba-centric fic and I won't say who the soulmate is. It's unexpected but so, so good! Trust me!)
Haunt The Lonely by Tht0neGal666
(Series where Sakura can see ghosts and the Things she gets up to due to this ability. The fics are short but man, you can already see the shifting differences in Team 7's dynamics, it's great!)
Perception by Ellie_Enchanted
Naruto can sense auras, which throws everything off it's balance. Because really, with someone as open as Naruto running around and peering into the depths of people's souls, something is bound to change. In other words, sometimes all that's needed is a push. Also, Sasuke apparently glows.
(Naruto the empath changing the plot and making it Better and I am loving it!)
Crossfire by DejaVu22
Following the events of Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke never makes it to Orochimaru's hideout. Instead, he is waylaid by a one-eyed man named Tobi, a man possessing a Sharingan, a terrifying dual personality, a penchant for always being late, and a single-minded mission to stop the Akatsuki in their tracks.
When Sasuke runs into Naruto again years later, he must ally with his old teammate in order to protect him from the Akatsuki, while keeping him out of the two man war Tobi and Sasuke have started against the dangerous organization.
(I honest to god can't stop cackling when I read this, the Sasuke & Obito dynamic is so freaking chaotic and Sasuke's characterization is the best thing I've ever read. This boi is a mEsS and I'm fucking rooting for him. He cares so much! There's secret identity shenanigans happening on sasuke's end and it's HILARIOUS! This is the duo I never thought I needed but here it is! *cackles insanely*)
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[Diamond no Ace]
Echo in His Hands by SportRayne (rayningnight)
Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura
What does it mean, when you remember snapshots of your own future?
Is it your future at all, if you change it?
Would you even want to change it?
(Look I am WEAK for BAMF Eijun and time travel fics and Miyuki being a tanuki bastard, okay? Time travel fic where Eijun gets feelings of people he knew before in the future. Really good so far and am so excited over this fic!)
The path we walk by WindsOfTime
Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura
Eijun goggles at the magazine she just shoved into his hands.
"W-Wakana!"
"I know!" she says, beaming.
"That's my soulmate!!"
"I know!!"
"My soulmate plays baseball!!"
(Became such an instant fave so fast it's unbelievable. I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH! Best soulmate fic in this fandom, hands down!)
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[One Piece]
switching places by fireflywitch
Zoro is 21 and wakes up in a desert they already saved, on a ship that they burned two years ago, and standing next to a man who is supposed to be dead. Except, that can’t be right, can it?
Zoro is 19 and wakes up on a ship that’s too big, next to a robot wearing a swimsuit, and he’s supposed to fight something called a Kaido. Also, he’s missing an eye, and no one’s even a little worried about it?
(or)
Time travel is a shitshow, and Zoro didn't sign up for this.
(FUCKING HILARIOUS ZORO IS THE BEST PERSON TO SEND BACK IN TIME CAUSE HE'D BE TERRIBLE YET FANTASTIC AT IT I CAN'T MAN FIEWNOPFEW)
No Time To Crank The Sun by VIKAN
He’s surrounded by strangers, but they’re all trying to convince him otherwise. Or, Zoro faces a mysterious and relentless challenge that he just can’t wrap his head around.
(This ripped my heart open, I cried reading this my god. Please read this, the pain is so worth it and Zoro and his relationship with his crew is so good here. This reminded me why I love the Straw Hats so much!)
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[Fairy Tail]
to learn about a lucy (with a look into the future.) by るる凪 - nagi (arurun)
A watching the future fanfic.
It's currently X781, three years before canon. A group of Fairy Tail mages find themselves in a large building, with no known way out.
They sit down, and they watch the future.
(This is so much more fun than I thought it would be and I'm so happy I found this fic. This fic reignited my old love for this fandom and I hope it does for you too!)
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[Harry Potter]
sunflowers by Marnie27
One day, a young girl sits on the edge of a well. On this day, she falls in. Then the next, she’s not even a ‘she’ anymore. He’s Peter Pettigrew — doomed to die at the hands of his (betrayed) friend’s son.
Peter is selfish, bitter and brash. He’s not some fairy tale hero, he doesn’t care if everyone around him dies, as long as he lives. The marauders are annoying and childish. Survival is his priority, and he can’t afford to face distractions.
This just makes the fact that soulmates are now apparently a thing all the more godawful.
(And then another day years later he falls into an entirely new impossibility, Remus Lupin in tow, right into the third book of Harry Potter. Smack bang on the other Peter Pettigrew’s grave).
It’s confusing and graceless, and entirely something that would happen to him of all people.
(Self-insert fic where a girl reincarnates into Peter Pettigrew! And there are soulmates! And it's angsty and hilarious and Peter is an Asshole (somewhat unintentionally lol). Always a fan of biased pov fics and characters slowly improving themselves and their mental health! Cause dying! Is! Traumatic! *smiley face* Please read!)
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[Crossovers]
he's a killer queen, sunflower, guillotine by hoye
Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist, Harry Potter
He has to be the weirdest Hufflepuff Harry’s ever seen.
Scratch that, he’s the weirdest Hufflepuff Hogwarts has ever seen.
(One thing everyone could agree on: NEVER call Edward Elric short.)
(This is peak Edward Elric and all the best things about him and I'm just having a Good Time. Friendships! Logical solutions! Marauder screentime! And so much More! *bright grin* It's a fun place here!)
#Fanfiction#AO3#Fic Rec#Fic Rec List#Naruto#Diamond no Ace#One Piece#Fairy Tail#Harry Potter#Crossover#Fullmetal Alchemist
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Imagine Blitz being in a meeting with a client and unlike the others, is watching the panic button lights like a hawk. Hes not about to let some crazy client hurt his boyfriend.
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A/N: I took the same scene from the first episode and somewhat put it on the first paragraph but I'm excited for this one because of the client ^^ hope y'all like it ^^
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Striker stared at the call button resting on the desk he ignored the chaos that was going on around him.
Millie trying to get Moxxie to overcome his fears of killing a family {he seriously needs to get over that, he's a fucking murder he should be use to getting his hands dirty by now family or not}
Loona on her phone while ignoring the fact that the target Moxxie was trying to aim at was right next to her.
If Moxxie so much as hurt her there will be hell to pay.
Still Striker kept a close eye on the panic button. An Overlord came to visit them, not just any Overlord...Valentino.
Striker didn't want to leave Blitz alone with the fucktard.
Valentino wasn't his favorite Overlord, he was good friends with Angel Dust {despite him being a sinner}and when the spider demon would come to his apartment to get away from the moth douche bag Striker would always send Valentino a message as to why he shouldn't harm someone under his protection.
When the Overlord came in and demanded to speak to Blitz about hiring him for a job Striker immediately wrapped his tail around Blitz, showing the fucker that Blitz was under his protection as well as his mate since Striker kissed him in front of the moth demon and if anything happens to him he'll do more than destroy his clubs and kill his business partners.
They've been in the office for a good while now and Striker was getting antsy, he was tempted to barge in thinking the worse but he knew that if his mate was truly in danger Striker would've felt it through the bond.
So far all he felt was fear and reassurance as if his mate was sending him calming thoughts so that he didn't go barge in and attack the fucker there and then.
Still he kept his eyes on the panic button the minute he sees it go red is the minute he goes off.
"Hey dad what's wrong?" He looks up and sees Loona giving him a concern look.
"Nothing sweetie..."
His eyes flicker to the panic button and sees it going off, not wasting any time Striker heads for the door the mating bite was burning with fear and anxious.
Moxxie, Millie, and Loona stopped what they are doing as they see their second in command bargain through the door.
Striker kicks the door down and sees Valentino holding Blitz by his shirt.
"You will kill Vox's little sister!"
"I'm not killing a fucking five year old just because your boy toy decided to leave you for your other boy toy!"
Valentino was about to punch Blitz before a shot was aimed at the Overlord, the bullet purposely grazing his arm.
"Fuck!" Val grabbed his arm as blood spilled off it. A bullet bless by the angels. That shit was gonna scar.
He turned to see Striker point his angelic gun towards him. Glaring down at the Overlord.
"Thought I made it clear that you never, ever lay a hand on those I care about, and touching my mate is a huge no,"
Valentino turned to glare at the imp who was staring him down with a killer glare.
The Overlord growled at the fucker who dare shot at him.
"You dare shoot me?"
Striker's response was shooting him again only this time right on the shoulder.
"FUCK!"
"Get the fuck out, or the next bullet goes straight to your head,"
"I could kill you and your little whore,"
"I'd like to see you try,"
The two glare at each other before Valentino stood up straight, glaring at the imp he walked away from them.
"If you weren't Lilith's son I'd kill you here and now,"
"Tch, I don't need my incubator to defend me, we both know that you just a weak ass bitch who needs his own men to defend them. You may be an Overlord but we all know that that's just a fancy title for pigs like you to use to scare us Hellborns. We all know who's really at the bottom of the barrel don't we Val?"
The moth demon glared at him before he walked away Striker stepped back but kept his gun pointed at Valentino.
When the overlord stepped out Millie glared at him Moxxie hid behind her and Loon stood close by Striker, the cowboy pull her closer to his body. Fear that Valentino might take a cheap shot and hurt her .
Once he was gone Striker looked at her and the other imps.
"Go home, you guys have the rest of the day off," neither Millie nor Moxxie question him and headed back home.
Loona looked at her dad.
"Go upstairs and stay there till me and papa get there,"
Loona nodded her head before she also left.
Once everyone was gone Striker stepped into the office Blitz looked at him before offering him a reassuring smile.
Striker sat down on the couch and watched as Blitz settled some paperwork.
"Are you...okay?" striker asked him.
"Huh, oh yeah."
Striker checked the bond and saw that Blitz was being honest with him.
Blitz pit away his stack of papers before walking over to Striker and sitting down on his lap.
He lean down and kissed his mate pulling back he gave him a smile.
"Not that I enjoy your kisses but what was that for?"
"Well considering that my mate was a total bad ass today I say he deserves a reward,"
"Oh, and what reward would that be?" Striker's tail wrapped around his mate.
"I can think a few things," Blitz purred as he untied Striker's bandana and removed his jacket.
When Valentino showed up Blitz was scared but he wasn't worry how could he be when he knew his own personal guardian demon was watching over him.
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A/N: Idk why but I personally love to write Striker and Charlie as siblings ^^ but anywhore love it hate it tell me what you think also don't forget I am still taking any and all Striker/Blitz prompts ^^
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#striker x blitzo#blitzo x striker#blitzo helluva boss#helluva striker#helluva boss striker#helluva boss#answers asked#anon#anonymous
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Lightweight
Natasha Romanoff x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 1475 words
Warnings: alcohol?
Summary: Natasha has the sweetest, most lightweight gf who gets a little too enthusiastic about Thor's liquor
I really love the HC where Bucky and Nat are really close, and used that a lot in this one. It just makes me happy.
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To say that you weren’t what people expected when they thought about Natasha’s partner was an understatement.
The two of you couldn't have been more different, but she always said that was why you worked so well together. Where she was a bit rough around the edges and aggressive, you couldn't have been softer. While she was a literal assassin, you taught kindergarten in a small school downtown.
Really, there was no reason for anyone to think the two of you would have ever crossed paths.
...and maybe they wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for the party.
It was no secret that Natasha wasn’t super vocal about her private life, and that didn’t really change much when it came to you. While she didn’t hide you away, or pretend that you weren’t part of her life, she just didn’t believe in oversharing in the way certain other avengers did.
She was private.
She always had been, and it seemed easier to keep those sorts of things to herself, even when they made her as happy as you did. Maybe it was because she was paranoid, and worried for your safety, or being selfish and keeping you to yourself.
In any case, it was fine for a while, but over several months, you two got more and more close, and keeping you away from the Avengers wasn’t an option.
They were her family, and she wanted you to feel close to them. She wanted you to be able to get to know them and vise versa, that way maybe Steve would stop trying to set her up with all kinds of random people.
Admittedly though, this wasn't what Nat had in mind when she suggested that you come with her to the party Tony was throwing.
Speaking of, at the moment, you were standing on the table in Tony Stark’s apartment, surrounded by all her friends, dancing like a maniac and carrying on. It was quite a scene, but no one was really surprised.
If there was one thing that they had picked up on in the last few hours of the event, it was that you were very clearly a lightweight.
From the moment you walked in the door, they all knew that you had no place in this world, in Natasha’s world. You had sensible shoes on, and not a hair was out of place. As far as the Avengers were concerned, you'd wandered in from the street, searching for the Barnes and Noble.
Anything would have made more sense than you actually showing up here on purpose.
Though, when you walked through the door hand-in-hand shortly after a very dolled up Natasha, everything sort of snapped into place for them. She had been talking cryptically about a new partner she was seeing for quite some time.
The pieces fell into place organically from there.
You entered slowly, surveying the place with quick eyes darting back and forth. It was like you were going to miss something if you weren't careful. It wasn't until you laid eyes on Clint that you visibly relaxed.
A second friendly face made it a little easier to not have to cling to your girlfriend all night long.
Luckily, the cocktails came pretty quickly after you did and that helped you loosen up even more. "Who's carrying Y/N to the car tonight?" Clint laughed, tossing an arm around your shoulder, making it clear he was joking with you.
The others laughed as well, though they didn't know that the man was drawing from personal experience. The first time you three got together and had dinner, you drank a glass of wine and nearly had to be carried out to the car.
It was funny looking back, though in the moment, you had been so sick that you slightly winced at the memory.
He often joked that getting you drunk was like giving a baby a lemon for the first time, except there was no limit to how many times they could get a laugh out of it. That was about the time that Thor brought out a special treat, something he had been waiting to share for quite some time in hopes that it would provide some much needed entertainment.
Though, this was much better than he could have even expected.
Somewhere along the line, the music had gotten turned all the way up and was blaring through the speakers while you danced, without a care in the world.
You couldn’t even handle regular beer and wine, with hard liquor being out of the question. It only followed that something out of this realm was going to be much harder to handle.
“You-” you slurred, somehow trying to scream over the music. Everyone else was remaining rather calm, all things considered, just watching the situation unfold. Steve and Bucky were still as sober as can be, with Thor, Banner, and Tony hardly feeling anything.
They didn't seem to even bat an eye as you made a fool out of yourself, finding the entire exchange endearing if nothing else.
However, Nat, who you were now pointing out, was anything but calm. All she could think about was you tripping and falling off that table, or getting hurt in some other way. Even if you didn’t somehow break your neck, she knew you would have a killer hangover tomorrow.
“You, are so beautiful” you stammered, finishing your sentence which was a miracle at this point. Your had been stuttering and blanking through several songs that she knew you knew by heart, which was usually when she cut you off.
It was sweet, sure, but she could hardly even react before the laughs set in.
“Awe, you hear that ‘tasha” Barton grinned, gesturing up at you with the tail end of his beer, which he had been nursing for the last hour. He had never been much of a drinker, especially not since having kids.
He was just soaking it all in.
"You hush, I love her so much" you tutted, earning another gaggle of laughs from the surrounding group. You didn’t care that she was a killer, or that she had a past more blood soaked than anyone else's you'd ever known.
All you cared about was her, and the way that she made you feel. You knew that she was no threat to you, or anyone else, as far as you were concerned.
Natasha couldn't hurt a fly, at least when you were in her presence. You really thought that she was a good person, and knowing that made her feel like less of the monster she'd come to believe she was in recent years.
You believed in her, and that was enough for her.
Still, that sort of loving, reassuring was hard to focus on while you were fighting with the buttons of your blouse. "Okay sweetheart, let's get you down" Bucky suggested, shooting the redhead a glance for permission which she gave gratefully before he helped you down from the table.
He never would have touched you without some kind of allowance but he had been around enough intoxicated young ladies to know that nothing good ever came after they started stripping.
The large man lifted you from the table without any problem at all, making you gasp before erupting into a fit of giggles. "Hey, get your hands off me you big teddy bear, I'm taken" you grinned, clearly amused with yourself.
Bucky said nothing, only setting you down on the couch where he'd been sitting a few seconds ago. Perhaps out of second nature, he headed toward the front door to get your shoes, just like he'd done for Steve all those years ago.
Believe it or not, he had never been able to hold his liquor either, and Buck had spent a number of nights scooping his little buddy up of the floor and cleaning vomit out of his car. Seeing you in a similar state just triggered some old instinct in him.
"You need help getting her home?" Tony asked finally, talking to Natasha. Even if he had asked you, you weren't paying him any mind. You were too busy admiring Steve's blue eyes for anything like that.
The redhead only smiled in thanks before shaking her head. "No, I've got this." she smiled, making it clear to the rest of the group that this also wasn't her first time dealing with this from you.
"Let me know when you get home, and don't forget the water and aspirin" Bucky suggested, giving Nat a sideways hug before handing her your shoes. She smiled in thanks again, gathering herself while you muttered your goodbyes to all your new 'best friends'.
"Good to meet you sweetheart" Bucky hummed, helping you into your shoes while Natasha said goodbye to Clint and the others, thanking them for a great evening. Right now, you were on cloud nine with no signs of ever coming down, but they all knew you would be in a world of hurt in the morning.
#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#the black widow#black widow#femslash#marvel#avengers#natasha romanov x reader#natasha romanov x ps reader#natasha romanov x plus size reader#natasha romanov imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x ps reader#natasha romanoff x plus size reader#natasha romanoff imagine#the black widow x reader#the black widow x ps reader#the black widow x plus size reader#the black widow imagine#black widow x reader#black widow x plus size reader#black widow imagine#marvel x reader#marvel x ps reader#marvel x plus size reader#marvel imagine#avengers x ps reader#avengers x reader#avengers x plus size reader#avengers imagine
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rain clouds
pairing: maxwell lord / reader
word count: 2813
summary: i don’t even know what to say abt this one except it’s filled with yearning
a/n: this was gonna be super soft and happy but then it got soft and sad and then soft and happy again. posting from mobile yet again. tbh idek if this makes a lick of sense, we will see
warnings: mentions of shitty parents (maxwell’s dad & alistair’s mom), hints at child neglect & cps, anxious max, don't worry it gets fluffy
maxwell lord hasn’t had a day off since he founded black gold cooperative. that business was his baby long before he had a living baby with his ex wife, and loved both just as much. there was no such thing as a “sick day” to max; any day spent sleeping or healing is a day lost in the pursuit of greatness, the pilgrimage to the top of the corporate food chain. the only one he would ever make an exception for is alistair, and even then work would sometimes interrupt.
there was a time, almost too long ago for him to vividly remember, where maxwell did more than work. when he actually got his hands dirty in something that didn’t have anything to do with corporate schemes, and laughed with genuine glee more often than scowled. it was a long time ago now, and no one would ever believe it if they were told that maxwell lord ever got dirty with, well, dirt.
“come on! you gotta try this, it’s great!” the memories of his only friend have become worn with constant reminiscing, his mind unsure as to what’s real and what he imagined to fill in the gaps left by age and new priorities.
maxwell had found a secluded section of the park down the street from the apartment you both lived in, one safe from the eyes of bullies and adults alike. his feet were bare as the day he was born while making leaps and bounds in the abundant mud puddles from yesterday’s rain. he did his best to not let what little joy he found be dwindled by circumstance — his shitty father and reticent mother and the lingering ghost of poverty — the way others lost theirs. max believed himself different than that and carried himself as such no matter what others said.
you were still on the sidewalk, watching your best friend with awe and curiosity. the idea of traipsing through mud barefooted was exhilarating, but you knew that if your clothes got dirty, your mother would hang you out to dry alongside the clothes you were wearing. how did it feel to have the mud between your toes, the rainwater soaking into your skin? you didn’t remember, but you would like to.
to be honest, maxwell didn’t expect you to join him. he didn’t think you would ever try to break out of the box of propriety your family shoved you in, not now or ever. but the next thing he knew, he heard another set of feet splashing around in the puddles he had just vacated, making a path to where he stood. a playful shriek he knew as yours rang through the air and he immediately turned to you, wanting to see your face as you enjoyed yourself for the first time in a long time. “maxwell, this is wonderful! why didn’t you get me to do this earlier?”
you never looked more beautiful to him than when the afternoon sun shone on you, your smile bright and laughter clear and joyous. you were free as lady liberty, splashing around like there wasn’t a single other thing you had to do. then you take his hand and max swears that he’s seeing stars. before you know it, you’re dancing in the mud to the song of the birds in the trees. is it just max’s imagination, or do you tell him you love him?
your lips are on his and it’s magic. his shirt is being gripped in tight fists and his hands are magnetized to your waist, holding each other tight enough to need a crowbar to separate you. there’s nowhere he would rather be than back there with you…
but it’s been far too many years since he’s seen or heard from you, there’s no telling if you’re even in the country still at this point. it took a long time for him to not dolefully gaze at every door you could walk through once he left for college, hoping to see that radiant smile and hear you say his name so reverently.
but these days, reverence is the last thing maxwell thinks he deserves, not after the dreamstone debacle. hell, he isn’t even completely convinced that he can adequately take care of alistair despite the low standards his father and his ex-wife have presented him with. despite these doubts (and the perplexing way that everyone acted as if he never almost took over the world), he was just given full custody of alistair when the school called cps on his ex-wife for neglect. it was a terrible way to get a second chance at doing right by his son, but it’s a second chance nonetheless.
after seeing sense and liquidating black gold while he still could get something to survive with, he and alistair found a two bedroom apartment in a nice part of town. it was miniscule compared to what he had but it was a sight more than what he could have ended up with. besides, max had no time to be frivolous when he had his son to protect.
back to the grindstone he went. he knew that people would recognize him if he kept his current appearance and name, so he retired the lord name and decided on another fresh start. he slowly adjusted to using lorenzano after so many years rejecting it, got the blond removed from his hair. he found a job in financial advisory, and ironically enough, he was damn good at it. he knows what he’s doing when it comes to money that isn’t his, who’d have thought?
he actually knew a couple people from work that he almost considered friends. honestly he wasn’t sure what that word meant anymore, didn’t remember the feelings that were supposed to be associated with having them. but it was enough, truly more than enough; because this progress meant that he was dragging himself out of the grave he dug, because he was taking care of his son first and foremost.
alistair was put into a new school; nothing fancy, just the nicer public school that was a pleasing midpoint between work and their apartment. the first day he attended, alistair came home with so many good stories about the friends he made and the games they played at recess. within a few months he had been contacted by his teacher who had nothing but praise for little alistair lorenzano. his little boy was excelling and max couldn’t have been more proud than he was during that phone call. seconds after he hung up, he found alistair in his bedroom and wrapped him in a massive hug, making sure to emphasize the fact that max was proud of his son.
and then there was his neighbor. they lived across the hall from him and max would only catch the tail end of their arrivals and departures to their apartment. he did think it was rather odd, their strangely adept ability at avoiding him. if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was on purpose.
it wasn't intentional — not quite.
you had been avoiding your neighbor, but it had nothing to do with the oil commercials or dreamstone debacle — your new neighbor made you sad. the feeling would hit every time you saw him. his mere presence dusted off long-worn and cherished memories of a time where the sun felt warmer on your skin, where smiles came easier than heartache.
it took a long while before you realized why: it was because this mystery man reminded you of a love long lost to the dagger of circumstance. something about his walk, or maybe his hands during the times you’d see him open his apartment door, reminded you of what an older maxwell lorenzano could have been. the section of your heart that housed your thoughts of maxwell had been wrapped in caution tape with every hazard sign known to man flashing around it for many years, not wanting to venture there for more than a few moments in fear of hurting yourself even more.
if only you realized it was really max that you were so adamantly avoiding.
three months went by of max wondering why he still has yet to meet his neighbor. not that it was imperative to his daily survival, but his curiosity was all but tearing him apart at the seams. he didn’t know what else to do; yes he wanted to know his neighbor, but how did he go about that when they never saw each other?
“just knock on their door, daddy. be their friend, like you tell me to do when i go to school.” the childlike innocence alistair speaks with betrays the actual feasibility of the idea. maxwell was overthinking everything! people talked to their neighbors all the time! this could just be a simple “hey are you doing okay?” and the chips would fall where they may.
maxwell ruffles his son’s hair affectionately, pulling him into a small hug. “you know what? that’s exactly what i’m gonna do. thanks buddy, i’ll be right back.” it’s only across the hall, max isn’t gonna be gone long.
it’s been years since he’s done anything this casually daring. everything he did for decades was all high risk yielding high reward. talking to his neighbor should seem simple in comparison — it presented no drastic consequence if it went belly up, he almost never saw his neighbor anyway. that wouldn’t change after he finally sated his curiosity, certainly not.
once alistair’s homework is finished and is entranced by the television, maxwell decides to head next door, being sure that the house keys are in his pocket before shutting the door. he probably should have thought it out more than he did — he had no idea about his neighbor’s work schedule or if they had kids or a spouse, if they were a serial killer or an introvert. or even worse, if they happened to be someone who remembers everything he’s done. that would be his luck, his first true attempt at making a friend being thwarted with the magnitude of his past sins.
he doesn’t hear his own front door open, alistair’s head poking out to watch his dad. “knock, daddy!” he whisper-shouts and nearly shakes maxwell out of his skin. the little boy laughs at his dad’s startled expression before nodding and shutting the door back.
max went to knock but realized with his knuckles only an inch from the wood that his hands were peculiarly slippery. when did maxwell’s hands get so clammy? there was nothing to be nervous about. he was just going to attempt to make a friend, like his son simplified.
but the thing is, maxwell knows that it’s been decades since he’s had a friend. the last time someone outside of his son was kind to him not for the zeroes he wrote in checkbooks was you, and sometimes he even doubted that you were real. there are hazy memories of him as a teen that splashed in mud puddles and kissed a being of pure sunshine with the innocence of youth. he hopes they’re real, for his sake and for the sunshine he romped around the park with. maybe memories of him are keeping you sane the way your memory did for him.
as his thoughts spiraled, maxwell lost his nerve. with a heaping dose of irrationality, he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side of the door. turns out, there was no one on the other side.
“excuse me, did you need something?”
your first instinct when seeing a man almost knocking on your apartment door, on a normal day, was not to be so polite. but you were having a strangely good day and there was no reason to bring down the positive energy with an abrasive attitude. plus, the man looked so conflicted. he seemed to need a friend.
“i, uh, live across the hall, have been for a few months and never got to meet you.” a small gesture to the side shifted your attention to the door across from yours — and the little boy who had the door cracked just enough to see the interaction between you and who you think must be his dad.
this man’s voice, something about it was familiar. he moved from in front of your door and extended his hand towards you in an effort for a decent introduction. “i’m maxwell lor-lorenzano.”
maxwell lorenzano. you never would have thought that out of all the people to have graced this apartment building, he would be one. his hands were still softly strong and shoulders still broad. his eyes were still the same striking shade of brown, but there was a lot more pain there, a lot of experience that was clearly pushing him down by his shoulders and into the depths of anguish. yet there he was, keeping his head above water and still being kind. this truly was your max.
you take his hand with a soft smile, squeezing it gently as you give your name. “it’s been a long time, max.”
max couldn’t believe it. after all these years, it was you.
you had moved in across the street from him in his early teenage years and had become acquainted when walking to school and home. the two of you trekked through high school together, ignoring the cruelty of classmates and focusing on getting to the future, to freedom. hope of being friends after high school was abundant in the beginning, but soon your paths sent you further and further away from each other and towards a future neither of you were sure you wanted without the other.
“it really has been a while. i- i uh,” he could barely string a sentence together anymore. his shock and joy of seeing you again had his brain melting into goo and his tongue an almost immovable weight. “i missed you.” the blood rushed to your face the way it always did when you were with max. even when stuttering over his words and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, he was still charming.
max noticed your attire and the wet umbrella in hand and was immediately taken back to that day spent in the park after it rained, when he . the sunshine on his skin, your smile that never failed to take his breath away…
a soft smile was on max’s lips but his eyes were somewhere else. “max? is everything okay?”
“do you remember the day we went to the park, when we splashed in the puddles and-“
“and when i kissed you? i could never forget if i tried.”
you really did kiss him! it made him want to do it again, as many times as you would let him. but that brought one little stipulation with it: alistair.
what would you say when you found out he had a son?
before max’s thoughts could dampen your reunion, you continued, and with every word, you solidified your place in his heart. “maybe we could do that again some time, just like we used to. and you could bring your son too, if you’d like.” you were jumping out on a limb by assuming that the little boy was his son, but with the apparent protectiveness max displayed around him when you see them together, what else could he be?
“that sounds so fun! can we, dad?” alistair made his presence known by pummeling into max’s legs, nearly knocking him over with an excited hug. you grinned at the affection, watching max’s eyes fill with warmth as he gazed at his son. “i don’t see why not. just change into some play clothes and get your raincoat from the hall closet.”
alistair shoots with glee and is immediately running back to the apartment, excited to change clothes and play in the rain. you watch max’s eyes as they light up at alistair’s happiness, that flicker reminding of you of when you were younger and the world was kinder to you both.
here was your second chance with max, another opportunity to be with someone who never stopped loving you even as the seasons changed and the zeroes increased. “i’ll let you guys get changed, come knock when you’re ready to go.”
feeling an uptick in bravery, max placed a quick peck to your cheek before he turned toward his apartment. “will do, see you in a few.” the risk he took was well worth seeing you grow bashful at the affection, eyes flitting to your shoes before back at him, a soft smile across your lips. you watched him walk away before going back into your apartment, waiting for the rest of your life to begin at the rapping of knuckles on solid oak.
maxwell lord taglist & others: @phoenixhalliwell @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @captainrexstan @battletales @stardustsunrisekisses @senator-nahberries @max--phillips @jedi-mando @veracruz-djarin @andysficrecs @purelypascal @whovianwar @iv7867 @kaermorons @princess76179 @pedropasscals
#maxwell lord x reader#maxwell lord reader insert#maxwell lord imagines#emotional support capitalist#maxwell lord#pedro pascal#i’m soft#i’m not sure what this is but i hope y’all like it#ww84
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Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session
The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.
(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)
1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come
2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants
3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)
4. Rin's tail is about a meter long
5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them
6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings
7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.
8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc
9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.
10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid
11. She likes industrial style interior designs
12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol
13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)
4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol
15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail
16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house
17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.
18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan
19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs
20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol
21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation
22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute
23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first
24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time
25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen
26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something
27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)
28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.
29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)
30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join
31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it
32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise
33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special
34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends
35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it
36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That
37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou
38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often
39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language
40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end
41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)
42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??
43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids
44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink
45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay
46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN
47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc
48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down
49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]
50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans
51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc
52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)
53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism
54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto
55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like
56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!
57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram
58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!
59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it
60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him
61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject
62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???
63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)
64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!
66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past
67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu
68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background
69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)
70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over
71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way
72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there
73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS
74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet
75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such
76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending
77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively
78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol
79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently
80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved
81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?
82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together
83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication
84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)
85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR
86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there
87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style
88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy
89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved
90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!
91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved
92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means
93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY
94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene
95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable
96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities. Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol
97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character
98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever
99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters
100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.
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I miss duality so much! 😔 Can we have a little spoiler? 💜 if no it’s also fine 💜
omg of course you can 😤💙 for context, it's storming so the power is out, mickey and mandy were just talking about important shit in his kitchen, and now ian's just showed up unannounced and completely drenched.
___
But Ian’s turning his attention back to Mickey anyway, running a hand down his soaked face and then motioning up to the darkened ceiling light.
“Power’s out,” he says, wetly.
And maybe Mickey will consider strangling him after all.
“Yeah good lookin’ out, Sherlock.” He turns to set his shotgun down instead, immediately missing having something to do with his hands when he turns back into the crosshairs of both their attention. “Fuck’re you doin’ here anyway.”
Ian shakes the raindrops clinging to his sleeves, the image of a golden retriever fresh from a bath flashing through Mickey’s mind. And then he’s speaking. “I was around. Thought I’d drop in to-…” his eyes bounce to Mandy and back. “…say hi.”
Mickey can feel his brows drawing together. The swoop of interest in his belly from the suggestion of Ian’s initial, unedited reasoning.
Jesus Christ.
Okay no, this shit can’t happen.
“Hi.” Mickey nods through it, and then he’s getting a hand around that wet sleeve again and helping him bodily toward the door. “Bye.”
It’s clear Ian wants to protest with how he’s purposely keeping his mouth shut. But he follows the overly helpful guidance, steps clunking just as they had on their way in.
They’re almost to the door when Mandy’s cutting through all the shuffling.
“Seriously? It’s monsooning, assface. Don’t make him go back out there.”
Ian waves it off kindly. “It’s cool. I shoulda texted first.” And he’s absolutely right. He should have texted first. Who the fuck just shows up to bang with no warning?
A psychopath, that’s who.
A serial killer.
Some type-a Bundy shit, if you ask him.
But actually, in the wake of all this - all the potential for mortifying tragedy and spilled feelings, Mickey would be lying if he said he didn’t completely forget about the storm
And after half a second of actual consideration and a suspiciously well-timed crack of thunder that shakes the floorboards, he realizes Mandy’s right. Unfortunately.
Ain’t no way he can force Ian back out into weather like this. Not when he’s in Peak Golden Retriever form.
Fuck.
“Fine, you can crash. But just ‘til it’s less shitty out.”
If Ian had a tail, it’d be wagging.
#asks#gallavich#shameless#thank u for the interest#hehe im actually like two thirds done with the next chapter so it should be up soon#duality fic
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StarWarframe; Episode 5: A New Bad
Okay guys this is the first session of Bad Warframes with the new voting guide. You can cast your votes easily in the notes with replies or reblogs. I have a lot of hope for some of these concepts!
1. Medusa, the Snake warframe. An incredibly long muscular tail sets this warframe apart from all others. Medusa strangles enemies in her coils and strikes with venom that turns enemies into statues. Beautiful to behold, but deadly to witness. Medusa is a cold-blooded killer.
2. Scylla, the Abomination warframe. Some warframes were not made with intention. They were simply accidents, random misshapen things spawned by the technocyte seed. Scylla is hunger incarnate, her body holds no organs, only a squirming multitude of tentacles tipped with hooked barbs. The evolutionary pinnacle of predator more perfected than the Orokin's gene tampering could dream of achieving.
3. Lobo, the Werewolf warframe. Once a beast, always a beast. The technocyte takes men and turns them into animals. But what if the man was already an animal? What would he become? Something more, or something less? Whatever that beast-man became after the transformation, they called it Lobo, and they locked it away in the vaults for fear of its throat-ripping jaws, disemboweling talons, and bone-chiling howls.
4. Sirius, the Hound-master warframe. No warframe is as adept at animal handing as Sirius. Sirius is one of the very few warframes that bring a second companion into battle, his personal attack kubrow Ryya. Sirius and Ryya operate as two halves of a single soldier to bring down whole groups of enemies.
5. Legion (Redux) the Clone warframe. Legion is not a singular being, he is able to create temporary copies of himself, not merely illusions or echoes but physical clones. They exist for only a few seconds before they become one with Legion again and possess only a sliver of his will to automate them with a single commanding purpose, such as to attack or defend. I am Legion, for we are many.
Get voting, people!
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Conflict and Consequence || closed with murder-popsicle
@murder-popsicle
Vision suddenly flinched, and the mind stone’s energy and glow flared sharply. Moving to sit more forward, he winced in pain and lifted his hand to touch his fingertips to the stone. He didn’t know how he knew, but it flooded his mind as clearly as he knew the headache he was feeling was not entirely his alone. Wherever Wanda is, she is in pain.
To say that he remained composed would have been a lie. Vision’s fists clenched and his lips formed a snarl. Rising from the chair, he sought out the man who had been reassuring him for days and days now that no harm would come to Wanda or any of the others arrested in that airport in Germany the day the Avengers turned on each other. The synthezoid found him predictably at the bar, still visibly bruised from his fight with Steve and Bucky, but that would garner no sympathy from Vision. Not anymore.
"Stark," Vision said loudly, approaching him.
"Hey, Junior!" Tony said condescendingly, pouring himself a drink.
"Where is she?" Vision asked, getting right to the point. "Where is Wanda? Where are the others?"
"Don't worry about it," Tony said dismissively, taking a sip.
"My worry festered into sharp and pointed concern and discontent ages ago. Answer the question,” Vision said with careful focus.
"I don't know," he said, shrugging and laying his hands on the bar.
"Do not test my patience,” Vision insisted.
"Are you... Did you just threaten me?" Tony asked, recoiling a bit in disbelief.
"I am indicating to you how serious I am, so that there will be no misunderstanding. No more lies,” Vision clarified.
"I'm sorry, when... did I ever lie to you?" Tony asked.
"You said she would not be harmed,” Vision replied.
"Look," Tony said with a sigh, "I didn't know any of this was going to happen, okay? And frankly, I don't like it any more than you do. But it’s out of our hands now."
"I have been inquiring for days, and you have been lying to me," Vision pressed, his even tone sounding rather ominous.
"Again, when... exactly... did I lie to you?"
"I felt her pain. Just now. Whether it is the mind stone's connection to her or her own magic reaching out to me, I do not know, but.. she is suffering. Now... what has been done to her? No lies."
"She's dangerous, Vision. Okay? They needed to ensure she wouldn't be able to hurt herself or anyone else,” Tony admitted.
"Tell me!" Vision said, raising his voice in a rare display of both concern and annoyance. His usually serene eyes showed a brief but explosive burst of golden-electric energy emanating out from their center pupils.
Tony heard the anger in Vision’s tone and it gave him pause. This had been enough to cause even the mild-mannered synthezoid to become emotionally effected. There was no way around this. He wasn’t going to let up and Tony knew he was stuck. "They had to make sure she couldn't use her abilities, so... they restrained her with... a straightjacket-like... brace... and a high-frequency-emitting collar... and... tranqs." He mumbled the last word, hoping to slip it by unnoticed.
"Tranqs," Vision repeated, focusing the most on that.
"Yes," Tony confirmed with a nod.
"Tranquilizers," Vision said, just for absolute clarification purposes.
"Yes," Tony repeated with the exact same nod.
"Where is she? Where are the others?" he asked angrily.
"I don't know. I don’t. That wasn't a lie. Steve busted everyone out days ago and they’re gone. They went off the grid. If they don't wanna be found, they won't be. Best to just leave it alone," Tony said, wishing the synthezoid would just drop it.
"Busted... everyone out... from where?" Vision asked carefully, his eyes narrowing.
Tony sighed again and slumped against the bar a little as he answered, knowing Vision wouldn't let it go. "The Raft. It's a maximum security prison off the New York coast meant for those... in need of... special accommodations." That was the nicest way he could have put that. Not that his careful wording did anything to keep the synthezoid from reacting negatively to it.
"After all that Wanda has been through at the hands of Hydra and the distrust it has sown in her, you authorized her to be drugged and forcibly restrained without legal counsel or fair trial in a maximum security facility?" Vision said bluntly.
"Come on, no I didn't,” Tony said, his guilt starting to get to him. “You think I was consulted on this? You think I did this?"
"Yes. I do," Vision said almost sadly. “I do now.”
"Well, I wasn't. I didn’t. You think I wanted them to send that poor traumatized kid to a heartless, sterile place guarded by specially-trained tactical military meant for psychopaths and serial killers?!" He stared for a moment, an oops expression coming over his face instantly. "Probably should’na said all that..."
Vision turned and walked away. He had heard enough.
"Where’re you goin'?" Tony called after him.
"To locate Wanda," he said with solid determination, stopping and turning so he could be sure to make eye contact. "And when I locate her, I will not be informing you of her location." With that he turned again and left.
Tony waited until he was out of earshot, taking a big gulp of his drink. "That's what trackers are for, Junior," he muttered under his breath. He was so confident in that, that he didn’t even jump up right away to try to track Vision the moment he left the compound. That would prove to be a mistake...
Once outside the facility, Vision disabled his internal trackers, already one step ahead of Tony. He needed time and privacy to form his own opinions, and he was not going to get that being tailed by the tech giant. He had trusted Tony to give him truthful and up-to-date information and he had been deceived. That stung Vision, if he was being honest with himself, especially since Wanda’s well-being had obviously been affected by decisions made without the rest of the team being consulted. This was not what had been outlined in the Accords, not what was right or just or even legal, not what Secretary Ross or Tony Stark had promised him would happen. Vision was angry, sad, worried, confused, and betrayed enough to want to be on his own right now. He would seek out the truth on his own and see it with his own eyes instead of trust an obviously unreliable filter of other human minds to do so for him.
For some time now, Vision had been working idly on changing his appearance for the purpose of camouflaging himself when out on missions. Realizing that this was now something of the utmost urgency and importance that he would need if he was going to go after Wanda, he worked even harder at it. If she and the others had gone off the grid as Tony stated, then they would not appreciate Vision’s conspicuous and highly recognizable self showing up at their doorstep, wherever they might be. Thus he took some time to perfect this shift in appearance as best he could, much in the same way he changed his density to either phase through walls or harden himself against attack. To accomplish that, he changed the arrangement of the atoms in his organic cells and their vibranium sheathes to achieve a more dense or more diffuse effect. The concept for his human disguise was similar and yet even more elaborate than that...
Vision not only altered the density of the atoms in the outer layers of his body, he also increased the ratio of organic tissue to vibranium, giving the outer layers the look and feel of either cloth or flesh. By altering the instance of other trace elements in his tissue he was able to alter color. So the flesh would look and feel like flesh, the sweater like a sweater, etc. Well, he had already mastered clothing in that regard. He didn’t wear real clothing, it was all part of his body, made in the image and feel of real human clothing. He now made human skin and hair in the same manner. The atoms that presented themselves first to the human eye or held up to the scrutiny of touch were a smokescreen for the rest of his body, hiding his true appearance. That combined with an imaging overlay of his entire body, a neuroelectronic grid of chameleon-like cells activated by power drawn from the mind stone, he was able to achieve a very realistic illusory and sensory effect.
Now... what he chose to look like had a lot to do with personal preference. His natural skin was dark colored, so for something different he chose a pale skin tone. For eye color, he chose the rarest among humans, blue. Perhaps that would help him keep some of his uniqueness, he reasoned. He didn’t have any hair naturally, so he chose to give himself some, and he liked the way blonde hair looked with blue eyes and pale skin. The result was something that looked decidedly human, but very far from his own natural appearance.
Once he was satisfied that he could move about in public and pass well enough for a human being, Vision searched for Wanda. It took him almost a day’s worth of flying, but he let the mind stone draw him to where Wanda’s energy was lingering. It was the same sort of gentle pull towards her that he felt that day in Sokovia, when she’d made the decision to die with her brother and Vision intervened. He didn’t know what emotional state he would find Wanda in this time, but as he honed in on an apartment building in Scotland, he was sure that she was there. Rather than just phase through the wall and look for himself, causing a stir and potentially alarming those inside who might at first misunderstand why he was here, Vision pressed the call button near the door. The voice that came through was a familiar one, saying that they were uninterested in anything anyone was selling and did not want visitors...
“Captain Rogers,” Vision said simply, calmly. Respectfully, too, since he imagined Steve was no longer captain of anything at this point, and yet Vision still honored his former title. “May I please have a word?” Only that, and then he backed up a few paces from the door and patiently waited. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew Steve would recognize his voice, since he had been the first to comment on it immediately following Vision’s birth. He hoped for a peaceful encounter, and truly he was not there to hurt anyone, but he imagined that tensions and fears might cause some of those who might be inside the building to resent that he was there. Nevertheless, Vision assumed the best until the worst presented itself...
#murder-popsicle#vision rp#guest muse: tony stark#{feel free to bypass Steve or do whatever you want}#{i just figured he'd be the one to answer first heh}
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AitF- AU The Third Task
This is an AU of chapter 89, The Third Task for my reading the books fic, All in the Family- Because this is how I originally wanted to write the scene before I checked the date and was so disappointed it wasn’t a full moon.
For context, they get zapped around different HP locations, and the title's self explanatory for this one. Even if you don't read the fic, hope you enjoy the interaction!
HPHPHP
"Moony, hey, it's okay, I promise," James' soft, comforting voice didn't alleviate his fears, his screams didn't lessen as one of his best friends backed away and gave him one last encouraging smile as his bones continued to snap.
Prongs stood there, waiting patiently, but it was background to the pain alighting every surface of his being. He couldn't keep hoping the others would be safe from him, or what he'd do to Prongs like he had Wormtail, just the tearing feeling of being ripped from his own soul was all he knew until he blacked out.
Moony didn't quite seem to believe himself as he looked around at some semblance of freedom. The bushes meant little to him, he could make that leap with ease, and the open stars above with no bars or roof really was a first. He threw back his head and let out such a joyous howl, Prongs almost wanted to relax. Maybe he'd just be happy to stretch his legs for once- then the feelers crept out.
His fleet feet easily had him dancing away as he made a guttural noise of distress, Moony merely snapped at the annoyance and loped off without a care, nose pressed to the ground, tail swinging eagerly for so much new. Prongs stayed much closer than usual though, they were not in the forest and he was keenly aware of every turn they made and ever soft puff of breath, waiting.
He would know, he assured himself, when that curiosity switched to hunting if he got a scent of one of the others, the main problem would be stopping him. Padfoot and Wormtail would be on high alert at least, but it bothered him greatly there had been no accompanying howl to answer. If Sirius was in danger and hadn't been able to change for some reason, James could hardly go help him!
Both animals stopped as if on command when they turned a corner and saw the dementor gliding along, but it didn't acknowledge them thankfully. Moony's curiosity seemed piqued though, he snuck closer low to the ground, tail still now and teeth bared for a challenge. Prongs made a soft noise of warning but as always was ignored, he really only was good for breaking up fights between him and Padfoot, Moony never looked twice at him otherwise.
While he hadn't changed back in Azkaban to know for certain, he started to feel a little off about this one as it began gliding backwards from Moony. The heavy presence of its very air still hung around them, that rattling noise of death, those slimy skeleton fingers were all the same, but then it got caught on a bit of shrub as it continued its retreat and Moony lunged.
Prongs watched in mild fascination as it vanished with a snap and the werewolf was left looking in confusion at his empty paws. He scented the air eagerly for where his new pray could have gone, but then huffed and just kept going on with boredom only moments later, not even glancing back. He followed in weary exhaustion for what else could be up next.
The two walked right through an odd swath of golden mist without incident, and no clue why it could be there until he heard Harry's interaction with it. He dared a glance over his shoulder at the innocent twinkling and huffed in derision, mark another enchantment up to not working on Animagus'. Really, this was a great all purpose kind of magic and he had no clue why more people didn't do this.
He was just starting to really hope they'd be lucky enough to get out of here without incident when he saw the change in Moony. Ears pricking, lips pulling back over his teeth for a deafening snarl of a fun new challenge. He barely had time to process what for as he swung his head to see the Blast-Ended Skrewt.
It was the most terrifying pink thing he ever could have imagined. Scuttling about on all those legs, pincer already swaying dangerously even as a bang had fire rocketing it even faster towards them. Prongs swung around to try bolting off, but then froze as he realized his companion was not joining him. Instead he stayed and watched in genuine concern as Moony barked and lunged forward once more.
His claws scraped uselessly over the carapace, he started gnawing on a joint like it was the most delicious of crab meat and hung on even as the stinger and pincers swung to shake him off. It had no effect on Moony, his tail was even thumping as he let go and darted under the blood sucking belly, snapping and dodging, nearly prancing in delight.
The fight seemed fairly even and bloody terrifying to watch as the Blast-Ended Skrewt grew more furious, and Moony coughed a barking laugh that eerily reminded him of Padfoot. His friend was playing though. He would be feasting if he could, but he didn't even seem too upset he wasn't even getting that as he reared onto his hind legs and took massive swipes at the headless torso that had been known to fell trees. There was an awful, ear splitting noise like they were back near the tortured saws, but he only managed a few deep scratches for his troubles. The Skrewt backed up a few feet, only to spin with far too much agility to launch another round of fire at him.
Moony dropped back to the ground without concern as it made no visible impact on his silvery fur and in fact bounced right off. Even knowing their immunity to every kind of danger but their own species though hadn't saved Prongs from the shock of watching, and he hadn't quite managed to leap aside in time, nor could he again as his fur wasn't nearly so proofed. His leg buckled, he bellowed in pain as he fell, stunned as his already black fur burned.
A howl rent the air, and in his riddled mind he thought it was Padfoot finally joining them for a moment, but as he lay panting on his side he instead saw Moony now bristling and snarling like he hadn't before.
In front of his very own eyes, he watched Moony attack. Snapping onto a leg and now yanking his muzzle with purpose, blistering snarls for this having no effect that would have stopped any others hearts cold as he now made a killer lunge against the Skrewts underside. There was a wet, tearing noise, and then a ripping of sound rippled through the air as the creature with no mouth screamed. Lashing its stinger one last time at its foe, the Skrewt began retreating in earnest, a trail of blood now leaking from its belly.
His friend began eating the sucker, chewing with relish as he spun over to him. Moony hovered as he kept chewing, and only after his final swallow did he duck his head down and butt at his injured leg.
He bellowed in pain and tried to writhe away, while Moony hopped back, recognizing the noise for the warning it was, but still hovering over him and watching. Prongs's heart kept thudding away even as he still couldn't quite believe what he'd just seen, but the fact had no other explanation. Moony had just defended him.
HPHPHP
This has no significant impact on the fic. It only mildly changes a bit of the beginning of five, Sirius stayed Padfoot the whole time and he and Alice never talked. Peter and Frank also didn't relax and were on edge the whole time and didn't talk, but Lily and Regulus' stayed the same. The after affects of James realizing Moony cared about him a lot more than he'd ever showed before is the only real difference, it doesn't significantly change anything. I just really wanted to keep showing off Moony.
#Moony#Prongs#Marauders#Harry Potter#HP#fanfiction#reading the books#Moony vs skrewt#Protective Moony
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