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navybrat817 · 5 months

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The Dad Diaries: Welcome Home

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky reflects on the first night with his son home and puts his thoughts to paper.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?).

A/N: Welcome to The Dad Diaries! This AU will focus on Bucky and his relationship with his son (and you!) ❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared intently at the open blank journal that sat in the middle of his office desk. He had picked up the pen a few minutes ago, but hadn’t written a single word. Why did he feel stuck? Better yet, what was he thinking by doing this? Reading often came easy to him, but writing? That was something else entirely.

It was also something he wanted to do.

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and wondered if he should call it a night, crawl into bed with you, and try tomorrow. No, he didn’t want to push it off before he even began. Glancing at the monitor, he heard your voice in his head, a memory of something you told him in the early stages of dating:

The best writing comes from the heart. Write what you and your heart love because no one knows that story better than you.

Bucky had plenty of stories to tell. How he became a hero and a good man after years of pain and darkness. Or how he fell in love with you and became your husband.

And his newest adventure of becoming a father.

He wasn’t sure how to be a dad yet, but he knew he loved his son. That was more than enough to start. And with a smile tugging at his lips, he put the pen to paper.

Hey, Nugget,

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. Your mom calls me her husband and I’m the luckiest man in the world for that, especially since she gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for: you.

Your name is James, too. Your mom doesn't know if we’ll call you Jamie or JJ, but I have a feeling you'll hear a bit of both. And one day, I’ll get to hear you call me Dad. Or Dada or Daddy or Papa.

Whatever makes you happy.

He paused in his writing when he thought he heard something on the monitor. His eyes flickered to the screen again and he breathed a little easier when he saw that his baby was still sleeping soundly in the middle of the crib. It wouldn’t stop him from checking on him later, just to be on the safe side.

I’m so glad you’re home. In fact, tonight is your first night in the nursery. I hope you like it here. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A house is made with walls and beams: a home is built with love and dreams.”

Yeah, your old man likes to read. Maybe you will, too. I even have an original copy of The Hobbit and would love to give it to you when you're older.

Books lined the far wall of Bucky’s office, many of them worn from the amount of times he read them. He made sure Jamie’s room had a reading nook, too. It was one of the only things he asked for when the two of you designed the nursery.

I hope you get enough sleep tonight. Your mom, too. You both did great at the hospital and deserve all the rest you can get.

Would you believe me if I said I was a nervous wreck when I brought your mom in, but tried not to let it show? People call me strong, but I don’t think I ever witnessed true strength until I saw how steady of a rock she was. She blew me away, which didn't surprise me. She amazes me every day.

Hearing your first cry stopped my heart and brought tears of joy to my eyes. After nine months of waiting and talking to your mom’s stomach, you were finally here. And seeing her hold you made me fall in love all over again.

Sorry if that sounds sappy, but it’s true. She looked right at me with happy tears in her eyes and said, “Bucky, look! Look at what we made! It's our little Nugget!” and my heart swelled. She insisted on calling you that and it rubbed off on me. Believe me when I say that you are the luckiest baby in the world to have the mother that you do.

He stopped writing again to glance at his wedding band, smiling all over again. He thought your love filled his heart before, but it overflowed now. It warmed him like nothing else ever could.

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this since a lot of time will pass by the time you read this. Sometimes I may write to remember things I’m afraid I’ll forget. Other days I’ll write to reflect and get the words out when my mind is too loud. But my hope is that this will be a gift to you.

A bond for the two of us.

As you grow, I’ll fill the pages with the memories of you and our family. I’ll tell you about my past and how it shaped me into the man I am today. How your mom and I met and how I somehow convinced her to fall in love with me. And I’ll be sure to tell you about the day she told me we were going to have you and how that news changed my life for the better.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued.

I also plan to fill this with your milestones. Like your first smile. Is it selfish if I hope to see it first? If not me, your mom. She’d love that. Your first step. Being selfish again, but I hope it’s me you walk toward so I can pick you up and tell you how proud I am. And your first word. I hope it’s Mama.

Though I won’t object if you say Dada.

Bucky chuckled as he imagined the look of betrayal on your beautiful face if your son said “Dada” first instead of “Mama”.

I’m sure some days I’ll have more to say than others. If I’m lucky, I can pass on life lessons and words of wisdom. Some days though I may not say the right thing and I know I’ll stumble along the way as I figure out how to be the best dad to you. I say “best” and not “perfect” because perfection doesn’t exist. Except for you and your mom.

The beauty of it is that I don’t have to go it alone. I’ll have your mom by my side to help guide and protect you and to watch you flourish. And my hope is that you know as you look through the pages how much we love you.

Even on days I may not get it right, I’m your dad, you’re my son, and you’ll always have a home with me and a place in my heart.

I’ll write more when I can, Nugget. Until then, I love you.

Always,

Dad

Bucky set the pen down as he exhaled. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was a start. As long as he put his heart into his words, it would shine from the pages.

And he couldn't wait for all the adventures he’d have with his little Nugget.

I hope you lovelies are excited to take this journey with Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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everythingacotarbxm1012 · 2 months

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They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.”

Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”

The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.

“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre #feyre x rhysand #cassian #3rd person pov

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jake-webber · 4 months

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PERSONAL TEDDY BEAR | KANSAS BOYS

anon: “maybe hcs or a fic of reader being sam, colby, and jake’s childhood friend where you’re like the designated teddy bear that everyone likes to cling on?” (UNEDITED)

PAIRING jake webber, sam golbach, colby brock x platonic!reader

BEFORE READING use of ‘brother’ but not towards reader but is used by reader, gender not specified, i acc dk if they’re called traphouse trio or not but lemme know

You couldn’t tell the time when you woke up or when Jake suddenly came into your room to bother you by tangling himself in your covers and limbs to, and you quote, ‘hangout’. You’ve been friends with this guy for God knows how long but his idea of hanging out with you was never something you understood completely.

Unable to go back to sleep, you decided it was a good idea to indulge your best friend. You let him wrap his long limbs around you; his leg were overlapping with yours under the covers while his arm was on your shoulders, ultimately locking you up in a soft headlock as he scrolls through his phone with his free hand.

You, on the other hand, had your head on his chest from all the times he’s been pulling you closer.

“You think I should dye my hair like this?” Jake suddenly asked, showing his phone opened on instagram. “I think I’d look good.”

You didn’t have to think twice on your answer as soon as yours eyes were looking at a picture of someone’s hair dyed at the brightest green you’ve ever seen. “And what? Become bald and live your whole life being called a highlighter and Mr. Clean?”

You heard, as well as felt, Jakes low chuckles resonating to your head. “Dude, you’re so mean. Can’t even support a brother.”

“I probably would if my brother didn’t wake me up to cuddle ‘till the afternoon.” You deadpanned, eyes going back to your phone.

“You planned on sleeping ‘till afternoon anyways.”

“Not in your arms.”

Jake faked a sniff. “So mean, so mean. This is probably why you’re Sam’s favorite.”

You could only roll yours eyes at this. “Whatever you say, brother.” You pulled yourself off of Jake, hearing his whines of protest as you walked inside your bathroom.

“Why did you leave me!” Jake screamed from your bed, hearing a small ‘thud!’ and groan soon after.

As you were about to leave the bathroom, you saw your door open by Colby. “What’s the commotion in here?” He asked with an accent.

“Nothin’” Jake said. You closed the door to your bathroom with a snort. “More like, he fell.” You responded, kicking on the fallen blanket over Jake’s head and hearing a silent ‘fuck you’ before making your way towards the newly arrived boy.

As soon as Colby was a inches away, it was like his arms were magnet and your poor neck was the refrigerator getting unwanted accessories on it. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a lung squeezing hug. “Did you just wake up?”

You couldn’t even lift your own arms to hug back from how tightly you’re being held. “Nope, been awake for a while thanks to that guy.” You nodded your head towards Jake who did an awful job of sneaking up behind you, making him pause.

Colby didn’t say anything at first and gave you one last squeeze before removing himself. “Well, thanks to him, I didn’t have to do the honors of getting hit by a pillow because…” He grabbed his phone from his pockets and showed you his conversation with Sam.

“We’ll be having lunch with the others before we take off tomorrow.”

“Right, we’re filming oversees tomorrow.” You recalled, absentmindedly staring at Sam’s text ordering Colby to wake you up before the scheduled lunch– it felt more like brunch to you but whatever.

“That’s right, so we’re either going to force you to get dressed or you do it yourself.” Colby ruffled your already horrid bed head with a mischievous grin. “Oh, I don’t mind doing the first one.” Jake quipped from his place behind you, listening on the conversation.

“Save it, brother. I can only have so much patience to let ya’ll sleep on my bed.” You walked past them as your head scandalous gasps when you did. “Or maybe I’ll only allow Sam, who knows, he’s been the nicest to me all morning.”

Colby raced to your side with furrowed eyebrows though a smirk on his face, “But he’s not even here!”

“Exactly.”

Sam wasn’t able to go home and freshen up before lunch so the four of you decided to meet at the restaurant instead.

“And what time did he exactly leave for his meeting?” You opened the door of the passenger seat and stepped out as you spoke. Colby, who volunteered to drive the three of you, locked his car before he answered. Jake, who sat on the back, walked towards you with his eyes still on his phone.

“I think, 6 o’ clock? He’s been preparing for it for like a week— if he acts weird, just don’t ask.” You and Jake nodded at his words. You were all used to Sam’s antics when he’s tired, especially you. You had to specifically wear clothing that doesn’t wrinkle easily because of him.

Sam rarely shows affection in front of other people who’s not in the same house as all of you but that all goes away when he’s brain is too foggy to think. You were his victim most of the time. Colby, being the one he’s usually with, experienced it too and as well Jake if he’s unlucky but it’s always you at the end of the day.

“Golbach at 12 o’ clock.” Jake whispered before departing from your side to Colby.

The three of you stooped on your tracks towards the restaurant and saw Sam walking out with his phone. He still looked alright from a distance, his poise was as normal as ever, but it only took you one look to see the way his eyes swayed at the sight of his friends. Sam walked, or was it trudging, towards you and you already had your arms up when he got closer.

Both his arms circled around your torso and placed his head on your shoulders. Colby’s hugs were tight— tight enough to cut the air from your lungs— but quick and Jake’s loved to put all his weight on you. Sam’s, on the other hand, he likes to lock you in his chest and hug you like a teddy bear, as if he was inches from sleeping (which he probably was, to be fair).

After a few seconds of silence, having to penguin-walk away from path of the restaurant so you both wouldn’t block the entrance, Sam sighed. “God, today’s been a long day.”

“The day’s only half finished, Sam.” You said with an amused smile, patting him on the back.

“Still long.” He retorted almost immediately. Sam began rocking you back and forth for some reason. You realized Jake and Colby were already inside the restaurant when you Jake’s text on your phone about saving you both seats.

As much you enjoyed being their personal teddy bear, you’re already getting hungry from the smell of the dishes from inside, making your stomach grumble over the silence. “Time’s up, the only thing I’ve had in my stomach is air today and I am hungry.” You said as you tried to release from him.

Sam was quick to remove himself off of you, except for one his arms on your shoulder still. “Dibs on sleeping next to you in our hotel room.” He said before he began walking, looking at you with his tired yet mischievous smirk.

You chuckled, “You were already first on the list, brother.”

#jake webber #jake webber imagine #jake webber x reader #sam goldbach #colby brock #sam and colby #sam golbach x reader #colby x reader #colby brock x reader #trap house #sam golbach imagine #colby brock imagine #platonic!reader

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atticclubsheep · 7 months

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Of Fairy Lights and Color Theory

Wherein you wax poetic over color nonsense

All that glitters is not gold.

You say that phrase like it's your job, and you say it in such a memorable tone that Mammon hears it play in his head every time he goes out to shop. The true meaning behind that phrase is that 'everything that seems valuable on the surface might not be so', but when you say that phrase, you say it in such a way that implies you might not be golden, but you're glittering nonetheless.

You bring up gold a lot around Mammon, actually. Sometimes he wonders if you're trying to drive him crazy.

Anyways, on top of you not really using the phrase correctly, you also told Mammon that you'd simply heard the quote off an episode of Spongebob and that's why you say it around him--you think it's funny, and it doesn't help that every time you see that 'pretty gold ring' in his 'gorgeous blue eyes', you feel the phrase burning on your lips. As weird as he finds your explanation, there's something oddly romantic about it as well, and it always makes him blush when you bring it up.

Today was one of those days where the topic of gold was randomly brought up by you, though strangely enough, it had nothing to do with wealth or greed when you spoke about it. You were standing on the tips of your toes in Mammon's room, stringing up yellow-hued fairy lights on the walls around his bed, bathing the little subsection of his room in a faint gold light. Your D.D.D. was playing some song from the human realm on repeat, chanting about yellow and shining stars and loving you so (you'd always pause your chatter to sing that particular line, just under your breath, and it gave Mammon butterflies each time).

"So what do you think?" you ask as you step off the little stool you'd gotten from who-knows-where. You graze some fingers over the dangling yellow lights, before hooking your finger around the wires and pulling it just a little bit away from the wall, allowing each tiny light to cast its own gold halo on the slate-silver wall. "The color? It's like the color of this, don't you think?"

The 'this' in question was your hand, where Mammon's pact mark was practically glowing. Ever since you'd started learning magic with Solomon you'd learned how to do that--how to call attention to each of your pact marks, how to make them light up in the very same way they had when you received them. It was like you were highlighting your bond with the demon in question, and Mammon didn't know if it was magic or flattery that gave him a sugary feeling in his chest every time you did.

"H-Heh... so is that why you picked the color? I mean, it would make sense. As your first man it's obvious my pact mark would be your favorite."

"Hm, no, if I were doing this because of the pact mark I'd be putting these lights in my room."

Mammon tried not to deflate in disappointment. Of course, you didn't let the disappointment linger, because what you said next was sweet enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

"This is me leaving a little mark of my own in your room. I chose the color because it's my favorite--it reminds me of your eyes, plus I know you like gold-y things, and I think the meaning behind this color is pretty true about you too," you say, swinging the dangling wire if lights in your hands before letting it fall back against the wall. "It's gold like sunrises, my favorite way to start the day, valuable like the precious metal, and bright and yellow like the happiest things in the world. That's kind of sweet, don't you think?"

Finally you make eye contact with him, and your grin is casual and lopsided--totally contradictory to the positively poetic nonsense you'd been chattering about, and it took all of Mammon's strength to not start stuttering on the spot.

"Valuable?" He doesn't know why that was the word that left his lips, but you nod anyways.

"Mhm. Well, you're worth more than gold of course, but it's kind of an affectionate symbolism," you say absentmindedly, taking one last look at your handiwork. "Heh... now every time you see these lights you'll be like 'L-M-A-O, that dorky little human thinks I'm bright and valuable!' Color theory is my love language, did you know? So yeah, I'm done now. Thanks for letting me play interior designer for all of fifteen minutes."

Don't say that stuff so casually, Mammon thinks, though all he can verbalize is a timid "No problem." He has no idea how you say that sort of stuff so easily, much less why you even think that stuff in the first place--after all, if you want the same verbal affection from him, you'd have to corner and pry it out of him. He gets flustered over it--for you, it's just in your nature to be sweet. Is that some sort of human thing?

You stretch, raising your hands above your head. He thinks he hears a pop, and you hum in satisfaction. "Man, being such a fantastic color-theorist has my brain acting like TV static now. I need something exciting, hm..." you tap your lip thoughtfully, then turn to him with a mischievous grin. "What do you wanna do, Mams? Your turn to pick something."

Say something flirty, say something flirty- "Heh. Are ya sure you can handle a demon's definition of 'exciting', human?" Drat.

"I trust you to pick something survivable," you reply in almost the same joking tone. "Though if you pick something that ruins my shirt, I can't say you'll survive what happens next. Momo got me this shirt, you know. It's got fantastic color theory, see, it's just desaturated enough to serve as a neutral tone while still maintaining a distinct purple-hue identity, not to mention the value is perfect enough to pair with a white or black pair of pants while still having a pleasant amount of contrast. I chose white just for today, just because-"

"Let's go buy new clothes then," Mammon interrupts, a grumpy tone to his voice. You tilt your head at him.

"Huh? Are you saying you don't like the color?"

"No no, you look good in any color," Mammon replies, before realizing the softness to his comment and sharpening it with, "For a human." You laugh.

"So is it the fabric? The fit? I thought the outfit was cute."

"Tch. That's not the point--I can buy you things, wouldn't you rather wear something bought by me?"

"I mean... I didn't think it mattered. I thought it was kind of fun to wear something purple-y while stringing up yellow lights, they are complementary colors after all. Besides--Asmo might have bought me this shirt, but you're the one I'm spending time with. Are you upset?"

You didn't sound cross with him or anything--you've known for a while that Mammon could be, well, greedy. You merely sounded curious, not quite understanding what the big deal was. Even though jealousy still rang bitterly in his ears, Mammon didn't quite understand either.

"I'll buy you something purple then."

"You're so sweet. And silly. I have plenty of purple clothes--if you really want to go shopping, let's get something that matches, the two of us. I'm thinking yellow-" you gesture to the colors on the wall. "-or gold, or maybe blue, since it would match your eyes so well. Actually, let me spoil you a little, I'll buy us something-"

"No!"

You cut yourself off quickly, regarding Mammon with wide eyes. He picks up on your shock and backtracks.

"I-I mean, uh, I can't have ya buyin' me everything, ya know? Ya got me those lights, so it's my turn. I'll get ya somethin'. What's the point of hangin' out with the avatar of greed if ya ain't gettin' a little somethin' out of it, right?"

The expression on your face was nothing short of adoration. It took all of Mammon's willpower not to look away and hide his face--you just made him so soft. "What's the point? The point is, you're Mammon--the most lovable being in all three realms, as far as I'm concerned. I don't need you to buy me things to know that you're my one and only, although..." Your smile widens. "I know it's a big deal for you to offer something like that, so of course I'm not saying no. I'm just letting you know you don't have to buy my affection, you know? The only gold that really matters to me--metaphorically--is the gold in your eyes. Do you still want to go shopping?"

...drat. He really was in love with you.

"Yeah, well..." Mammon starts, hoping desperately that his face wasn't as red as he feared. "I'm buyin' your affection anyways. W-Wait, that came off wrong--I mean, listen up! You're my human, my only human, the o-only one I'll ever have eyes for, so... so let me spoil ya! As long as I'm around, you're never gonna want anything else, okay? I'll make sure you have it all. A-And you better be grateful, because I don't make promises like that to just anybody!"

Finally--he could finally see some semblance of shyness flutter across your expression, meaning whatever he had said had finally succeeded in wooing you--at least a little bit. Well, at least enough that he wasn't the only one blushing up a metaphorical storm right now. Still, no matter how flustered you got, you still wore that serene smile.

"That means a lot to me, Mammon," you said, voice softened by flusteredness. "To be honest, I think I have all I could ever want with you being by my side, but that's no reason for us to not go out shopping, so..." you held out your hand, waiting for Mammon to take it. He did, though not without almost tripping over himself to get closer to you. "...let's go. I want to show off the demon I gave my heart to, after all."

...you were really something, y'know that? Mammon follows you out the door, enjoying the contact between the both of you for every second until you reach to the shopping district he loved so much.

"So, shopping is a 'demon's definition of exciting', huh?"

"S-Shut up."

#mammon x reader #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #obey me x reader #obey me #omswd

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sunnydayjackass · 2 years

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"If they cheat, it's over. No exceptions."

[I was feeling sorta angsty. Quote from Letterkenny.]

It feels like ice in your veins. Your stomach felt like it dropped to the floor, your heart was beating rapidly which was frankly odd cause you swore you heard it break. Your phone is still in your hand and you aren't sure which is more shakey- your breathing or your hands. Probably both.

On the other side of the line there's an anxious pause. You don't know how much time has passed in the gap but the words that came prior are repeating on a spiteful loop in your head.

Ian's admission of guilt.

His betrayal of your trust.

The disregard for the relationship the two of you are in. Or were, rather.

You can almost hear him tearfully wringing the hem of his shirt. As if he had the right. You do hear him take in a shakey breath of his own. "...(Name)...? Are you okay?" Of course he knows you're still on the line based on your shallow breaths. You're walking a tightrope of keeping your composure as best you can but his question sends you careening over the line square into "fuck it" territory.

"Okay?! How...H-how could you even ask me that?" You burst and with that come the tears you'd tried so hard to keep at bay. "No, Ian--I'm not...just...how could you?" Distraught seeps into your voice, his name in your mouth suddenly feels like tar. Heart hammering in your ears, the outburst seems to have spurned you into action as you anxiously pace around the living room of your shared apartment.

The one he left.

He left you.

You'd been so supportive of his dreams and aspirations, sure it would have been difficult but you were willing to do the work to maintain it. You tried, asking for video calls or dates, sending cute check in texts, even a little home made care package that you'd saved money on to send. You pulled extra shifts in that candy coated froyo hell to make rent. And what did you get? A teary confession of cheating in the middle of the fucking night.

"I know! I know it was...it was so stupid of me, I know that I just...I mean, they don't mean anything to me. Not like you!" He's fumbling over his words, to do or say anything to try and smooth this over. Unsure what would work better; honesty or begging. But he's shit out of luck because you're uninterested in either.

A wry bark of a laugh, more of a scoff passes your lips almost immediately. "Fucking Christ, is that supposed to make me feel better?" There's another pause- you're unsure if he's too shocked to respond or not but you faintly hear rustling and a door click. There's a little more scrambling and a heavy exhale on the other line.

"...no, I mean...I know it doesn't make any of it any better." He's crying and trying to speak, though the guilt he feels is nothing compared to the wound Ian has given you. "I-I told you right away...I knew I fucked up." It was like getting punched, you didn't know if you wanted to scream or vomit.

Ian; the sweet, shy, sensitive boy you befriended as a kid. Who you'd walk to and from school with, have sleep overs and share snow days with. Ian, the boy you asked to the dance and spent the night swaying in his arms and gave your first kiss to. Ian, the man you moved into an apartment with- boxing up your things together and going decor shopping and dates with. Ian, the man who wanted to be an actor and performer so bad that even when it hurt- you supported that dream. And even when you gave him everything, even going to bat against his mom for him, it wasn't enough.

"...that sound just then...that was them leaving, wasn't it?"

"Wh-what?"

You sink into the cushions of your couch, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of the hoody you're wearing only to realize it's his. So much of the things in this space were his. You awkwardly shrug out of it as fast as you can and toss it somewhere on the floor. You recline back in the cushions, a strange exhaustion settling over you as you rest a hand over your puffy eyes.

"You should probably go after them, Ian. Clearly they've got more fucks to give than I can currently afford." You sound so tired, the cycle of emotions from start to finish is giving you whiplash. Rage, Hurt, Betrayal, Exhaustion, Anxiety...the list goes on and on.

"(N-Name) wait, please...please don't-"

"Don't what, Ian?? Do you really think I'm just going to forgive you because you told me? Do you really think sorry is gonna cut it?" You snap, a scowl pulling at your tear stained features. "You cheated on me. That's all there is to it."

"But I can fix it, I can fix us just...please, (Name)..."

Shaking your head you can hear him give way to crying again, apologies coming out of him in waves, saying nearly anything to try and right the wrong, to appease you, to just keep you on the line a second longer... but you gave him so much of your time already, didn't you? And all of that for however fucking long it took for someone else to warm his bed or him crawl into theirs- you don't think you could handle the specifics.

"No, I don't think you can. Goodbye, Ian."

"(Name), no no no, wait-please I love you, I lov-."

Beep.

Silence.

Well...for like five seconds until your phone lights up again with his name and face illuminated on the screen. A goofy selfie the pair of you took together on a date at a street festival. You used to love that photo but now it just makes bile rise in your throat. You put your phone on the coffee table face down and drag your feet to bed where hours later your sobs give way to sleep.

Ian clutches his phone in his hands, desperately calling over and over and when he eventually settles on leaving voicemails. Between sobbing into your voicemail box and spewing pleas and apologies- his voice is hoarse and somehow the tears keep spilling. He falls back onto his bed that suddenly feels too cold and too big. He's got nobody but himself to blame. He fucked it all up, he fucked you up, but there's still the faint glimmer of hope that maybe...maybe you can forgive him. Maybe he can show you how much he loves you.

How he's going to do it, Ian himself has no ideas and his head is pounding too much piece a coherent plan together. He loved you too much not to try. Ian runs his hands through his long auburn tresses with a broken cry as his lips peel back another sob, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks. He should sleep, he should try to sleep, but he cant. His skin feels oily from what happened, his sheets wont sit right on his bed- touselled from what happened not long ago and he pushes himself up.

Shoulders slumped, Ian rips the blankets and sheets from his bed, pillows falling unceremoniously from their cases, one smeared with a tinge of makeup and he drags himself over to dump them into the washing machine. He uses too much detergent even though it won't unsully the sheets you were with him to pick out. After its to the shower, stripping out of his clothes and standing blankly, hollow, before water the water starts. His mind is flooded with memories, how you'd help wash his hair, the occasional bubble bath you'd share, when he'd pepper you with kisses...

Ian is alone, everything is worse now. The breakdown resumes until the water runs cold and he redresses in pajamas and sleeps on the couch.

#sunny day jack #sdj ian #sdj ian x reader #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #theres something wrong with sunny time jack #tswwsdj #swwsdj

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hayleestrange · 21 days

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Murphy xf!reader

SMUT: MDNI

Summary: you disobeyed Murphys strict rules and now you have to pay the price

Warnings: 18+ cussing, pIv, fingering, squirting, nicknames(sweetheart, honey), overstimulation, mention of a gun. sorry if I missed anything

AN: this is my first ever story so please go easy on me this actually was a dream of mine and I know not very many people like this guy but I do so hope you enjoy but it’s ok if you don’t. That gif is so funny to me 😂

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Long story short you have no family left and you end up joining this kind of gang but it wasn’t really a gang. You knew the leader Murphy from being on the streets and he gave in and you were with him now.

He brought you along to a quote on quote mission, a lot of people new about Murphy and so no one dared to mess with him so when you walked in to a liquor store with him some people gave you a weird look a very young girl with a dangerous older man like him. He told you to grab a few things and some random jerk decided he wanted to take a shot at you , “hey what’s up hot stuff wanna come take a ride with me I have a big package for you I think you’ll like” unfortunately for him Murphy heard him and immediately came over and punched him right in the face, he fell to the ground and held his nose, “fuck you man and your little whore” he yelled still on the ground, Murphy was the kind of guy to kill someone for looking at him wrong so he took out his gun and pointed it at him and in a calm low growl said to apologize to the girl all the man said was “fuck off” and he was about to pull the trigger before he stoped himself and handed you the gun. You were stunned you looked at him for instructions, he said “shoot him” you never killed before and you didn’t want to but you didn’t want to disobey Murphy so you pointed the gun at the man your hands started to shake after a couple of seconds you put down you said you couldn’t do it felling ashamed you disobeyed Murphy you couldn’t look at him.

Murphy punched the guy a couple more times and let him know not to mess with him or his girl, when he said that it gave you butterflies ever since you joined him you stared to have a little crush on him but you knew he didn’t feel the same or feel anything for that matter. The guy got up and left the store then Murphy turned to you with anger in his eyes walked over to you and yanked the gun form you and told you to pick up what he had you get, when he gave you the gun you dropped all the stuff you had in your hands. As you squatted down to pick it up Murphy knelt down in front of you, you didn’t look at him because you knew better. “You disobeyed me” he said in a low voice that made you shiver, give me your leg he said as he pulled out a knife he had in his pocket. You did as he said, you fully sat down and gave him your leg knowing what was going to happen you yelled “WAIT!” He look at you now curious and still a little angry that you wouldn’t take your punishment. “Let me do it” you said he ignored you and kept going but again you said “wait” before you do it can I ask you a question? He looked at you waiting for you to speak, “why can’t I do it?” He pondered this question for a sec, “have you ever been with a guy” he asked, you didn’t look at him in response, “ because I see how you are with the rest of my men and it tells me you have” he paused for a sec, “ that will be your punishment” he said quietly as he stood up he grabbed your arm to help you up. “Grab that shit let’s go” you grabbed the stuff and walked outside he was standing right outside the door waiting for you. You knew what he meant when he said that it played in your head a couple times when he snapped you out of it by saying in a low growl “go around that corner” pointing as he spoke “and get in my car it’s the red Cadillac Coupe DeVille”. You started to walk over and when you got to his car you saw him come around the corner. You both got in and started driving.

It was kind of a long drive back at the place him and his men were all staying so you sat there in silence. Looking out the window your stomach dropped when you saw you were almost there. He pulled in the drive way and before he got out he said to you “go up to my place and wait for me and don’t bother with the shit in the back I’ll have someone come and get it” you slowly got out and walked to his place as he walked to the meeting place to you assumed to talk to some people.

You walked in and stood there nervous because you knew what you were in for, you jumped when Murphy busted in the door. “No need to be nervous sweetheart” he said with a smirk “go sit on the bed” you slowly walked over to his bed with butterflies in your stomach, you were scared but also a little excited but mostly scared. You whipped your head to look at him when you heard his footsteps start to come closer. “Honey stop being so tense no need to be scared” he said while smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He looked down at you and was about to say something when someone busted through his door, “Murph you gotta come see this” the man said, in an annoyed sigh “is it really that bad that you idiots can’t figure it out on your own” “I promise you’ll want to see this” the man said looking at him then at you. Murphy angrily walked towards the door. You could her him cuss out loud as the door slammed shut.

While you waited his return your mined raced with thoughts of what he planes to do to you he had a long quiet drive to think about it and it was Murphy it was gonna be rough, hard and long I mean it was supposed to be you punishment. You knew you deserved it, before you joined him he warned you it was strict and to listen to every EVRY word he said you knew you were in for it. You were torn away from your thoughts when Murphy came back in the door, you looked at him with fear In your eyes as he slowly walked back over to you, “what was wrong” you asked with a shaky voice looking up at him once again. “Nothin that concerns you sweetheart”. That nickname made a shiver go up your spine but you tried your best not to let it get to you even if his nicknames made your underwear so soaked.

He grabbed your chin and made you look at him a smirk plastered on his face he leaned down to your ear and whispered “I’m gonna ruin you sweetheart, punish you tell your so cock drunk you cant think or walk for days” he slowly stood back up and took his long black leather jacket of, “strip” he said sternly, looking up at him you did as he said you were shy of course and he saw that “don’t be shy sweetheart” his eyes filled with lust and excitement, you had your shirt and pants off but you hesitated with your bra, you were pretty self conscious about your body but you pushed those thoughts away. After a sec you didn’t want to anger him so you slowly took it off and avoided his gaze like the plague, “go on” he said, you stood slightly to slide your underwear down and the finally off.

You sat there and waited for him to tell you what to do next. Undoing his gold and black button up and then his belt he picked you up and flipped you over bending you onto the bed. He pressed his body on top yours grabbing a fist full of your hair, snapping your head back and snaked his hand down to your folds witch we’re already drenched he hummed in you ear with approval “your so wet for me already huh” he growled and you felt him smile. Unexpectedly you felt two of this digits enter you without warning it made you gasp and you bit your lip as to not make any noise. “No no no I wanna hear that pretty moth of yours” he said wile you hear his belt clank then you could feel him spring out of his pans as his thick cock tap your ass. His abuse with his fingers got faster and faster “cum for me sweetheart” he quickly growled, a loud moan escaped your mouth as you came around his fingers. His face came down to your soaked dripping folds as he lapped up your juices you whimpered his name, he slapped your ass hard it instantly made a mark and it made you yelp. He came back up to your ear and said “I like when you say my name like that” and without and warning grabbed a fist full of your hair snapped your head back and one hard thrust he entered you stretched you out it took all the air out of your lungs he gave you no time to get used to his big size and she was thrusting at a rapid paste. Tears threatened to fall and your moans were almost pornographic and loud, he was sure every one in a mile radius could hear you but he liked the thought that everyone knew he was the one that made you feel so good, “your doing so good for me sweetheart” he growled as he rutted into you hard and fast that was all it took and you fell over the edge again gushing all over him.

“Good girl” he grunted when he felt you cum. He rode out your high before he pulled out you you moaned at the loss of him. He picked you up and tossed you on your back onto the bed as you lay there trying to catch your breath you watch as he striped his pants and crawled onto bed toward you kissing up your leg and thigh he put his fingers into you, you let out a wine already sore from how he abused your pussy. He started to move his fingers faster and faster pulling moans out of you as you gripped the bed sheets you started to scream the faster he went eventually he went so fast he made you squirt all over his hand and the bed, “ffffuck”he let a low guttural moan at the sight he took his fingers out and sucked them dry the sweet taste of you was addicting and he wanted more. You were so overstimulated and still out of breath you saw him dip his head toward your entrance and with all the strength you had left you pulled yourself away from him whining “I can’t” he looked at you with a stern look “you can’t what sweetheart?” He almost felt bad for you. “To sensitive” you managed to say with hooded eyes, “oh but you can and you will” he said as he came closer to you he was now on top of you he grabbed your jaw and you looked at him and pleaded with your eyes that’s when he kissed you and you kissed him back to tired to fight for dominance as he stuck his tongue in your mouth with h made you moan into his then he stoped he ignored you“one more” he growled you shook your head no you a started to plead with him “please no” you wined “I cant you’ll break me” you said almost crying, “ that’s what I want sweetheart” he leaned in your ear “and your not punished enough if your not crying” he said as he lined up with your entrance.

This time he went a little slower rolling his hips into you, you could hear him grunt and moan as you started moaning his name louder and louder the faster he went tell he had a fast paste tears rolling down your cheeks you were so overstimulated he burred his face into your neck “fuck sweetheart gonna make me cum” “ in me” you blurted out “I’m on the pill” you whispered into his ear and that’s all I took and he fell over the edge witch made you cum for the third time, a moan was pulled from him and you screamed his name as he shot white hot ropes into you. Riding out both of your highs he fell to your side both of you out of breath, after he caught his he propped himself on his elbow his other hands going for your face he whipped the tears from your cheeks “maybe you’ll listen next time huh” he chuckled.

You hummed and rolled over but he pulled you back into his arms kissing the top of your head you curled up into his warm embrace and after a little while he suggested a shower your eyes darted open and you nodded your head.

You both went to the shower when you were done he gave you one of his old flannel shirts to wear you wobbled back to bed witch had new clean dry sheets and you plopped down he wasn’t far behind crawling into bed spooning you as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you woke to the smell of coffee, slowly opening your eyes you looked around for Murphy. Getting out of bed to get some coffee you felt just how sore you were, pouring yourself a cup he walked in the door, “morning sweetheart” “morning” you said in a quiet sleepy voice. Taking a sip he came up from behind and held your hips kissing the top of your head, this was weird to you as you’ve never seen him show emotion but you let it happen “want me to make you some breakfast” he said against your head “sure thank you” taking another sip of coffee “mmmmh this coffee is so good what kind is it?” “Mjb” he said that surprised you because that’s the coffee you used to get when you were a teenager it almost made you cry at the thought he noticed this, “you ok sweetheart” he said while pulling eggs and bacon out of the fridge “yeah yeah” you said while wiping tears from under your eyes “fine” He looked at you but didn’t push it “toast, eggs and bacon good” he asked “yeah perfect” you smiled at him.

The morning was kinda awkward but eventually you both finished and he needed to bring you along to go to a meeting with some people in town, you got dressed and as you both walked to his car everyone was staring at you. “I think they heard you last night sweetheart” he said with a smirk and a wink after you got in the car.

#Murphy #smut #Murphy smut #3000milestograceland #movie #kevin costner #first smut post #punishment #bad guy #toxic #John Dutton #2002 movie

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idioticsky · 4 months

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Baby it's cold outside...

GUESS WHOS BACK BABY! FIRST STORY OF 2024 WOOOO!

Word cout: 937 (short I know, but it's what I could manage today :])

Leo was humming as he prepared himself some tea, a nice lemon tea with a bit of honey and sugar for sweetness.

"You know, lemon tea was alway my favorite, I'm a sucker for lemon stuff heh," that quote played in Leo's mind over and over as he stared down at the cup he was holding."

"She used to love lemon tea..." He thought back to the day he found this little fact about Danny. The day she first spent a night.

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

It was a particularly cold December day. Leo had invited Danny over to the lair for a movie day with him. He was really just excited that she had agreed in the first place. He was setting up everything himself, making sure that it was just perfect. Leo kept thinking to himself, would Danny even like it? Does she like Jupiter Jim or does she hate it? Oh no what if she hates it?! All the movies he picked out would've been for nothing! His mind was really starting to race now, then it all came to a stop as he heard someone enter.

"Hey, anyone home? Leo?" Danny called out as she looked around, then she found Leo building a pillow fort. She smiled at the sight of the slider fumbling around before sitting in the fort like nothing happened at all.

"Hey Danny, didn't see ya there heh."

"Oh really? Cuz you just stared at me blankly for a moment before scrambling into the pillow fort," Danny teased Leo as she took a seat next to him, "so, what are we watching, Lee?"

"Oh uh- just some space movies I like, but if you don't like them we can change it to anything you want. I don't mind."

"Hm, well I like space and everything so come on, let's see how fun this night is gonna be," she smiled as she laid her head on Leo's shoulder, it sent a shiver through his body as his face went a bit pink with blush. He turned on a Jupiter Jim movie and so the movie day started.

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

The two watched movies and chatted for hours until it was starting to get late. Danny and Leo were talking about some theories they had about the movies when her phone went off. It was an alert about a snow storm coming.

"Dammit.. sorry Leo, I know I said I would stay for a bit longer but I gotta run home before the storm hits," Danny then got up to go grab her jacket and throw it on, all whole Leo gave a small pout while staying on the couch.

"Come on, can't you stay the night or something? You can't walk home when a storm is about to hit anyways, what if you get caught in it? You're my best friend and the only one I got so I don't wanna see you getting sick. Got it, Dan?" Leo said as he looked back at Danny. She paused for a moment before caving and slipping off her jacket once more.

"You win this time, blue boy," Danny sighed as she fell back onto her spot on the couch.

"I win most of the time, witchy," Leo smirked, "make yourself comfy, I'm gonna go make some tea for us ok?"

Danny nodded as she looked for another movie to put on. After a few minutes she could hear Leo's faint singing coming from the kitchen, so of course she had to get up and check it out (who knows, it could be blackmail for later >:])

"I really can't stay, baby it's cold outside, I've got to go away, baby it's cold outside," Leo sang to himself as he made two cups of tea, a nice lemon tea with a bit of sugar and honey for sweetness. Danny smiled as she stood in the doorway listening to Leo sing whole thinking no one was there.

"You know," Danny started, making Leo jump and whip his head around to look at the witch standing behind him in the doorway. She then started to walk over, "lemon tea was always my favorite, I'm a sucker for lemon stuff heh." She took the cup off the table as she looked at Leo's embarrassed face. Danny couldn't help but giggle a bit before she kissed Leo's cheek. "Thank you, by the way, I really appreciate you making tea," she smiled as she took a sip.

"O-Oh! It was nothing really, j-just happy you like it," he spat out, his embarrassment turning into him getting flustered from the kiss on the cheek.

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

Leo snapped back to reality, he then made another cup of tea. He walked down the halls of the resistance base to make his way outside, he passed several memorials, some of warriors who fought for the safety of others, some who worked back at base to make sure everyone was healthy and alive. Leo then stopped in front of one the writing on it had faded over the years, but was still somewhat readable.

"Danielle Hamato,

A loving mother, wife, and friend

18XX-20XX

May she rest in peace"

"Hi love.. I made some tea for you.." Leo mumbled as he set the cup of tea in the ground next to a pair of goggles, the lenses were cracked and even one was shattered. He then took a seat himself in front of the memorial. "I really can't stay... baby it's cold outside... I've got to go away... baby it's cold outside..." Leo started to sing, hoping, if even for a single moment, to hear Danny interrupt him one last time...

#rottmnt #rottmnt oc #rottmnt future leo #rottmnt au #rottmnt future au #i have the smallest bit of motivation and had to work with it to make something sad for the new year #hell yeah

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 3 months

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I know I said a while ago that I wanted to write some of my thoughts on the New Percy Jackson show out, but as time went on, I found myself having less time to actually sit down and watch it. However, now, I have finally finished the show (perhaps more than once, lmao), and I have a lot to share about it! Far more than I originally thought I would, to be honest. Honestly, I spent a couple of days watching everything over again and ended up starting and ending my first embroidery project since the pandemic started, which felt pretty good as it helped me absorb a lot more information as I worked. And, while I would love nothing more than to just word vomit everything out of my brain, I find myself physically incapable of leaving everything out of order now that I’ve had the time to properly think things over (certainly not due to the fact that I’ve been plotting story ideas for the last few weeks and can’t think of leaving anything disorganized right now). Instead of nonsensical paragraphs, I figured I would take things in four separate sections - my opinions on the characters, the castings I hope we get in the future, my favorite quotes, and a small snippet of how I would see things going down if I were to write this AU.

So, without further ado, I’m going to start off strong with…

My Character Takes:

Right off the bat, I adored Percy (Walker Scobell). I may be biased as I chose Walker as my sort of faceclaim for Bentley, but this child has Percy’s personality to a tee. I knew from watching him act alongside Ryan Reynolds in The Adam Project that he would be perfect not only for Bentley, but also for Percy and, when I finally got to see him as Percy, I knew I was right. From the iconic first line to the final moment of the series, he had me hooked. Though I missed the absolutely iconic “This is a pen!” quote from the movie, I feel like they got pretty much everything right for Percy. So many of his one-liners made me pause to laugh because I wouldn't have heard anything that was said afterward if I hadn’t, but he also has the right amount of seriousness and professionalism in certain scenes to make Percy come to life. I doubt Rick Riordan could have found a better Percy if they tried, and I can’t wait to see him in season 2.

Now, for Percy’s parents, Sally and Poseidon. Sally (Virginia Kull) was brilliant, and her interactions with Percy felt perfectly motherly and sweet while also having a vivid personality all her own. Watching back over the show after seeing it through the first time, I picked up on a lot more subtle hints at her mental struggle as a “single” mother of a demigod (she did remarry, and I’ll touch on that in a moment). I feel like watching it back over sort of gave me the full picture and I love that little touch. Now, Poseidon (Toby Stephens, Dame Maggie Smith’s son) was also incredible. I feel like, although we didn’t see much of Poseidon initially, the way he acted was very telling of his situation (being unable to see or interact with Percy without Zeus’ permission for fear of starting another huge war), and it felt like there was a definite desire and regret that he couldn’t have stuck around for his son (if not for Sally as well).

As for Percy’s stepfather, Gabe Ugliano (Timm Sharp), I feel like they may have tamed him a bit from the book as a way to avoid triggering anybody who grew up in an abusive household, but they still kept him on the despicable side. I always hated him, but I do feel like they could have made him worse. Instead of the bigoted, poker-playing asshole we meet in the books, we get a bit more of an idiot who wastes his money on online poker and sits around all day. I like that they kept his ending the way it was, but I sort of wish it played a bigger role in Sally's story going forward. Who knows; maybe it will in the future, but I wish they delved more into his character being genuinely a disgusting human being rather than just a loser.

Now, even though I don’t want to go too into detail on them because I don’t want to spoil anything in case you care to watch this show later on (highly recommended as there’s no need to read the books to see what’s going on), I want to touch on some of the campers and Percy’s friends. Ironically, I’ll be starting with Clarisse LaRue (Dior Goodjohn). Clarisse is the take-no-shit-and-start-shit daughter of Ares, the god of war, and is also the counselor of his cabin (Cabin 5). She’s very combative, competitive, and aggressive, which we find out is because she wants her dad to favor her despite her being a girl and all his “favorites” being boys. As stated in the show, he doesn’t even really like his kids, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to gain favor. Dior was a great choice for Clarisse, and I have to say, I think she did her great justice. The actor they had in the movies (well, movie as she was only in one despite her character being in more of the books) was good, but she wasn’t nearly as aggressive, feisty, and tough as Dior’s. Honestly, 10/10.

Luke Castellan is one character I couldn’t wait to see come to life, and Charlie Bushnell did an amazing job with him. He is the son of Hermes, the god of messengers, travelers, and thieves, and Luke is, like Clarisse, the head of his cabin (Cabin 11). Luke is one of the best, multi-faceted characters in not only the books, but in this show as well. Though he doesn’t appear in many episodes, I feel as though his character is one we’ll definitely be watching closely as time goes by. Regardless, Charlie did amazing in his portrayal of Luke, and I think he handled everything really well!

I know a lot of people weren’t thrilled when Leah Sava Jeffries was cast as Annabeth Chase (daughter of Athena, the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy - Cabin 6), but I trusted Rick’s choice in casting her as he said he knew she was the best choice for Annabeth. I have to say, he was right; she was incredible! Her interactions with everyone, the subtle ways she showed that she knew more than she was letting on, and her acting overall was great for Annabeth. I love that they included her Yankees cap as well, something I wish they had in the movies. Leah was amazing, Annabeth truly came to life, and I’m very excited to see how everything pans out!

Speaking of pans, we have Grover Underwood, a hopeful searcher for Pan, the god of the wild, satyrs, and folk music. While Grover is not related to Pan, his goal is to become a searcher so that he can follow his family’s legacy of searching for the missing god of the wild. Now, I actually loved the way the movies made Grover, but I think they did pretty well with him in the show as well. There is a certain scene I wish they had kept from the movie, but with how they made Gabe Ugliano in the show, I’m not entirely surprised they took it out. It would have been hilarious, though! I do have to say that Aryan Simhadri did an amazing job and that I was very pleased with his performance overall!

For the Greek gods that we met this season, I want to start off with the now-passed Lance Reddick, who played Zeus, the god of the sky, thunder, lightning, kingship, honor, and justice (Cabin 1). It’s sad that he never was able to watch his character come to life on screen, but he did a pretty great job in the one episode he was in. The looming threat of his presence throughout the episodes was a very effective build-up to actually meeting him in the end. He was a good choice for Zeus and, while I’m upset he won’t be in any future seasons, his acting was great. I’m sure they’ll find someone to do him good justice in the future, but those will be big shoes to fill as far as the rest of the cast will be concerned, I’m sure.

As I’ve already touched on Poseidon, I’m going to skip over to Hephaestus, the god of fire, forges, sculpture, metalworking, stone masonry, carpenters, technology, artisans, and volcanoes (Cabin 9). Hephaestus is pretty much an outsider from the Olympian family as he doesn’t really bother with the drama of Olympus, and Timothy Omudson does a great job of showing this in his simplistic, yet interesting approach. I found myself wanting to sit and talk with him - get his take on everything, in a way. Unlike some of the other gods we hear about/meet, he seems to think fairly reasonably and is pretty sympathetic, something I really liked about this portrayal of Hephaestus.

Ares is next on my list and, while I was never a huge fan of the character as the Greek myth was originally labelled as a protector of mistreated women and this version Ares was just an asshole, I feel like Adam Copeland made me like him. The first time I watched the episode we meet him in, I just sat there laughing at his personality, but the second time around, I had to wonder how on earth I found myself genuinely sort of enjoying watching him. Though I’m still not big on him overall, as his treatment of his own children is pretty shit, I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy seeing him. Also, when he talked about different wars in the diner, it felt like I was listening to my dad in history class all over again, and I kind of enjoyed that. Anyway, he was chaotic and crazy, but he has great taste in motorcycles, and I actually enjoyed him overall. Adam Copeland did a great job not making me fully hate him.

Finally, I want to talk about Hermes, who was played by none other than Lin-Manuel Miranda. When I saw that he was on the cast list, my immediate thought was Apollo, but I ended up loving him as Hermes. I wish we had seen more of him, but honestly, that’s just my Hamilton brain screeching to be let out, as I know he wasn’t supposed to be in many, if any, of the episodes this season because they were following the books. Honestly, though, Lin was incredible, Hermes was incredible, and I hope we see more of him going forward!

Future Castings:

Firstly, I want to say that my biggest hope is to see Sam Claflin as Apollo! His personality in The Hunger Games was all I needed to see, honestly. He would be perfect for Apollo, and I hope that’s who we get, but if not, I’ll just have to trust the process.

My top pick for Thalia Grace (and a semi-popular one I’ve seen floating around) is Momona Tamada.

I could see Zoë Saldaña, Tessa Thompson, or Danai Gurira as Athena. I don’t have a solid choice, but I could see them working really well as they have to play Annabeth’s mom, and they all could pull that off pretty well.

For Aphrodite, I have a variety of ideas. Gemma Chan could be pretty good, but so could Florence Pugh, Elizabeth Olsen, or Indya Moore. I feel like there are so many ways they could pull it off, but regardless of who they choose, I’m sure it’ll be great. (There is no official artwork for her, so I’m using the picture from Rick Riordan’s website, but she is known to change her appearance as she pleases)

One character I’m sure we won't see for a while, but I’d still enjoy, would be either Sadie Sink or Erin Kellyman for Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I doubt either actress will end up being chosen, as it’ll probably be a while before we get to season 3, but they were my top choices for her.

Now, I don’t have many ideas for anyone else, but I’m sure the cast will be amazing no matter what.

Quotes:

I had a lot of quotes from the show that I absolutely loved, but I forgot to write down which episodes they came from as I wrote more in the second time around and they got a bit jumbled on paper. I remember who said most of them and I was originally going to write that in as well, but I think I could use some of them later on, so I’ll just leave them nameless for now. Some of them, you can tell who could be part of the conversation if you pay attention to the names mentioned, but others are up in the air. Besides, the quotes alone are great, in my book. The different formats symbolize different people talking, as I couldn’t figure out a better way in the larger conversation points, but the ones where there’s only one person are just plain text.

“She fought valiantly, and she met a hero's fate.”

“She met a pinecone's fate.”

“So you're not a monster, what are you then?”

“A survivor.”

“It's not here.”

“We know. Yeah, glory's fine. Revenge is more fun.”

“Why is there half a goat in your pants?”

“Oh, it's... Oh! Oh, boy, she didn't tell you about... You didn't tell him about me?”

“You're early.”

“So the important thing is not to panic.”

“Look, this is a bad idea. They will see this as impertinent.”

“I am impertinent.”

“Not everyone who looks like a hero is a hero, and not everyone who looks like a monster is a monster.”

“He was a god.”

“You fell in love with God? Like Jesus?”

“I want him to know who he is before your family tries to tell him who they want him to be. He is better than that. He has better things in him than that.”

“This is Percy Jackson.”

“Yeah, Grover, I heard him the first time.”

“But did you?”

“It was your father who warned me to stay away. Said it was awful watching you struggle and feel powerless to stop it. But that sometimes… that’s what parenting is.”

“Are you stalking me, Annabeth?”

*shrugs* “Yes.”

“Look, I get that Nancy has issues, I’m just getting tired of her taking them out on me. I feel like… maybe it’s time to do something about it.”

“You could make an appointment to see Mr. Kane. He’s really good at talking-”

“I was thinking more like shoving Nancy in the nearest dumpster.”

“Oh.”

“I have a job!”

“Losing at imaginary poker?”

“Give me a second, I’m just starting a fight on Twitter.”

“I warned you, if you're not careful, you'll find out who I am.”

“Poseidon has ignored me my entire life.”

“You are his son!”

“I am Sally Jackson’s son!”

“Two things you never wanna be are small and scary at the same time. Things that are small and scary...get squished.”

“So, do we have a deal, or am I killing all three of you so I can eat in peace?”

“Ok.”

“Great!”

“Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love, knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I knew I was gonna like you.”

“Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask him if he’s missing a kid.”

“This thing, Zeus's master bolt, we need to get it back, right?”

“Yes.”

“And it's gonna be hard to get, yes?”

“Extraordinarily.”

“And if the mission required someone to push me down a flight of stairs for it to succeed... you'd want someone who won't hesitate when they do it.”

“He isn’t here. My father, he just… didn’t show. I mean, ignoring me is one thing, but he doesn’t get to ignore you. I’m gonna make him come down here. I’m gonna make him see me. I’m gonna make him see us both.”

“No one comes ba~ack.”

“Dude! Don't make me come back out there!”

“You really don’t want the bolt?”

“Why would I want that?”

“To start a war between your brothers.”

“Why would I want that?!”

“Jealousy!”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s all candy canes and rainbows down here. I don’t really do jealous.”

“Take your victory. Just spare my son.”

“Obedience doesn’t come naturally to you, does it?”

“No… sir.”

“I must take some of the blame, I suppose. The sea does not like to be restrained.”

“Ares is a moron. Perhaps you noticed?”

AU Idea:

I know I've said before that I didn't have much of an idea of what I'd write if I did this AU, but I think watching the books come to life a bit has altered that. I've gone through some of the books again and sort of figured out what I would want to see happen, so I figured I would put it all out here while I'm at it. Some things in my original post have changed, such as their parents, but I also have a basic timeline down as well. I feel like the vibes would be very similar to that of Camp Wanamaker as I plan on keeping things mostly around the camp at first, but there will be some big exploration further down the road as I develop an actual storyline. I do plan on going more in-depth on topics that haven't been brought up in the show/movies as I figure that would make it easier not just for me, but also for you. I have a lot of ideas, but I'll try to work it down to the first couple of chapter ideas as I haven't gone through the whole story's plot yet.

For starters, I think I would have Royce be the new kid at camp - an almost sixteen-year-old who was brought to camp by an adult demigod who rescued him from a monster on a field trip (Butchy, son of Zeus). He's pushed head-first into camp activities, and soon finds himself getting stalked by a pair of younger demigods who have been at camp for some time and have already been claimed (Bentley, son of Apollo, and Kona, daughter of Iris). The kids eventually corner him outside the Unclaimed Child portion of the Hermes cabin (where he'll reside until his godly parent claims him) and encourage him to try different cabins until he finds a good fit. Despite claiming the whole thing is nothing but a dream he'll eventually wake up from, Royce allows the pair to drag him around, starting from the top and working his way down.

Zeus, Hera, and Poseidon's cabins are all quickly dismissed, but before he can get much further, things at camp slow to a stop as the Hunters of Artemis arrive, having been told to stay at camp until the return of their leader and goddess, Artemis. Kona is quick to tail the Hunters, trying her hardest to find acceptance within the female-only group while some others stray to their original cabins to visit their former siblings. Upon asking why the Hunters seem to be a group of relatively young girls, Bentley brings Royce to his older half-brother Miles (head counselor of Apollo's cabin) who explains that the Hunters are maidens (which can be human, god, demigod, or nymph) who have sworn loyalty to the maiden goddess Artemis. They reject love for as long as they live and, in return, gain eternal youth and semi-immortality as long as they don't break their vows, or are slain in battle. There are some who leave if they fall in love, but very few do.

Not long after, the campers and Hunters are pushed into a game of rather brutal game of Capture the Flag, where Royce encounters a small group of Hunters who take pity on him as the new kid, a tall brunette girl with a silver circlet on her head giving him a hand up when the others in her group leave the area (Vivien, Hunter of Artemis and daughter of Hecate, goddess of magic, crossroads, necromancy, and the night). During dinner that night, Royce meets her at the fire as he puts in an offering to his still unknown parent and asks the girl some questions, trading names and finding out her previous cabin before she suggests he not push his luck befriending any of the hunters as they won't be around for long, and heads back to her table, leaving him more than a little intrigued.

I do have a bit more written out, but for now, I'm going to keep it there. However, I'm still going to show some of the parental changes I've made since my last post about this idea. There are only three, but they're there. I also have some plans to add in some of my other characters that I don't write as much, if at all, but they'll come in later on as I haven't quite decided where to put them.

Kona has gone from the daughter of Poseidon to the daughter of Iris (goddess of the Rainbow and messenger of the gods). I changed this because, although I love the idea of Kona just railing people with water when they do stupid stuff, the thought of her being this artsy, hippie-esque little girl who habitually makes friendship bracelets for new campers, who enjoys going around scaring people by turning the world black-and-white or momentarily blinding them with sunbeams. It's also known that children of Iris are great with art/creativity and have a strong connection with pegasi, so I can just picture her trying to use paint or something to give each of the pegasi cutie marks like in My Little Pony or giving them dyed manes/tails.

Vivien has a change of pace as well, going from the daughter of Athena to the daughter of Hecate and a Hunter of Artemis. The Hunter part is a relatively big plot point in the story as, like I said, they give up love in favor of aiding with the Hunt. However, I'll dive into that when I write the story. For now, I'll focus on the Hecate part. Hecate is the goddess of magic, as I've said before, and where Vivien is a collector of crystals in every universe and is great with magic in my Hocus Pocus AU, I feel it's a great fit. Another thing nudging me toward this is the idea that Hecate can be a tough parent, and her children must prove their worth and study hard to master their skills in magic. I feel like Vivien's already established, rocky relationship with her mom in my other stories would come into play in this as well, perhaps playing a role in her decision to become a Hunter.

Another change that I didn't mention in the snippet above was Mick. Mick was originally the daughter of Hephaestus, but I've since changed that as I feel it makes more sense in the way I've fixed it. Now, she is the Roman descendant (otherwise known as a legacy) of Minerva (Athena's counterpart) and Vulcan (Hephaestus' counterpart). Her mother, Mack, was the daughter of Minerva, and her father, Brady, was the grandson of Vulcan. This means that Mick is not at Camp Half-Blood in New York (the camp for the children of Greek gods), but at Camp Jupiter in California (the camp for the descendants of Roman gods), something I feel suits her fairly well and gives her a deeper storyline with not only Butchy, but also her usual friends.

Final notes:

Now, in case you haven’t noticed, I adored this show as a whole! One of my nephews who hasn’t read the books, finally had the chance to watch it, and loved it nearly as much as I did, which is pretty telling. I love that even people who haven’t had an interest/read the books, are loving this show. It’s just great! I have to say, the show is pretty good at explaining everything as they go and making everything feel as though it’s flowing properly. As if it weren’t obvious by now, I highly recommend watching the first season! It’s a great show overall, everything felt realistic, and it gave me a lot of ideas for the future (which, as you can probably tell, might include a Percy Jackson AU of some kind). Anyway, I loved it and plan on going back to rewatch it more as time goes by, but for now, I’m going to end my ramblings and go back to my little one-off story that I haven’t touched in what feels like forever!

#the show was great and I have no complaints!#definitely give it a shot #I highly recommend watching it even if you haven't read the books

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thenatashamaximoff · 1 year

Text

The Last Day Of Christmas; Day 9

Summary: On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

List of warnings could be found on the masterlist

Words: 1,784

✎ | ☃

December 22nd, 2022 (Present Day) You couldn’t stop the smile from lighting up your features despite having just woken up, walking into the kitchen to see Wanda using the cutting board you had gifted her the other day was just enough to replace that sleep in your eyes with a sparkle of happiness. You didn’t hesitate to walk into the kitchen, looping an arm around her waist as you planted a kiss on her cheek. After the light giggle that bubbled out of her throat, the two of you settled in a comfortable silence as you helped her finish cooking. You were a bit surprised she hasn’t mentioned the gift of the day, though you had to have figured that she was up to something by the way she had been avoiding eye contact with you ever since you had walked into the room. Yet you still continued forward, eating breakfast in silence, even cleaning up in silence.

You had cleared your throat, leaning against the sink as she loaded up the dishwasher, watching her blankly. She still hasn’t met your stare, and you were feeling nauseated at the fact that you were incapable of looking into her fanfiction green eyes. “What’s wrong?” you finally questioned as she loaded the last dish into the machine. Her movements faltered at your inquiry for a moment before she closed it and began fiddling with the buttons. “Baby-” Your voice caught in your throat when she met your eyes for the first time, seeing the guilt hidden behind the emeralds. “What’d you do?”

She straightened her form, wrapping her arms around herself as she breathed out heavily. “I found the present,” she confessed, rubbing her arms nervously as you stepped away from the counter, “and I opened it.”

“Wanda-”

“I know!” she expressed, huffing nervously. “I felt so bad after I tore it open.”

You sighed, scratching the back of your neck. “I mean, it’s not the end of the world,” you assured her. “It’s only a simple quote.” You tilted your head when the shame lifted off her face with a beaming grin, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she quickly grabbed your wrist and guided you into the living room, tugging you past the Christmas tree with the ever-growing presents building underneath it, pausing in front of the wall. You sighed once again upon seeing the present you had gotten her already hanging up, the framed quote hanging below the photo of the two of you on your first date. “You wasted no time, huh?” You looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “You didn’t actually feel bad, did you?”

“No, not at all,” she admitted, grinning as she shrugged casually. “Isn’t it nice, though?”

“Please tell me you remember the quote,” you stated, turning back towards the picture, but you could feel your face drop in disbelief when you heard her hum thoughtfully. “You don’t?”

“I’m kidding,” she said, laughing lightly. “Here, I’ll even tell the story.”

━━ᗢ━━

May 20th, 2019 You had always been nervous when you had felt it was the right time to ask Wanda to move out of the compound and find a house with you. The two of you have been sharing the same room there anyway, so the only difference would be having an entire place to yourselves; your own kitchen, your own living room. Just a place out of the prying eye of your fellow teammates. Though you had always tried to convince Wanda to move her stuff out of her room and into yours - Tony was looking to recruit that spider boy for a while now, the kid might need a room.

But it wasn’t you who asked Wanda, it was Wanda who asked you. And the relief that you had felt when you had found out that she was at the same level as you were is beyond describable. Now, the two of you just have to go through the painful process of finding that house that you connect with. The perfect house. Which was easier said than done.

“How many houses have we looked at today?” Wanda questioned, your eyes traveling up the house as she pulled to a stop in front of it. “This’ll be number four.” You had left her to answer her own question, though you did look at her with a raised eyebrow. “And, by the look on your face right now, I’m assuming there’ll be a number five soon.”

“I’m not feeling it,” you told her. “What if we go back to house two? At least I felt something with that house.” You huffed back into the seat, pressing your fingers against your forehead as your eyes fluttered close. “We got this. This could be the house. We’ll never know until we go inside.”

Wanda watched you with a small smile as you climbed out of the car, greeting the realtor with a wide grin. He has dealt with this kind of undecided doubt before, he clearly had the patience for it, yet she couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. She killed the engine and got out of the car to trail after you as you walked into the house.

“This place is nice,” were the first words that came out of Wanda’s mouth upon entering the home. She sent you a toothy grin when you looked at her, the realtor sending her a grateful smile. She stepped into the large, empty room adjacent to the kitchen, spreading her arms out wide. “This is obviously the living room, with a sliding glass door to the backyard!”

“Hex-” You cut yourself off when she held up a finger, walking past you to stand in the middle of the kitchen. You released a sigh when she, once again, spread her arms out, looking at you expectantly. “That’s clearly the kitchen.”

“See? The vision is already coming in.” She gestured for you to follow her as she made her way down the hall, and you released a sigh as you did. She disappeared into a room, and you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face no matter how hard you tried. “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” you agreed, fully giving in to the smile.

“The bathroom’s across the hall,” the realtor stated from the doorway, “and there’s a spare bedroom if you two plan on having any ki-” He cleared his throat when you both turned your head to look at him, Wanda’s eyebrow raised silently told him to continue speaking. “Company.” He smiled, but the fake moment of happiness didn’t last long. “I’ll just wait outside.”

You looked at Wanda, though the grin that was on your face never returned. Instead, your eyes shined brightly with unshed tears, your bottom lip trembled, and you whispered an incoherent apology as you hurried out of the room. She didn’t hesitate to chase after you, following you as you made your way out the glass door and into the backyard. She lingered back as you looked up at the sky, your shoulders slouching as a tear managed to escape its prison. “I’m sorry,” you said, a bit more coherently this time.

Wanda sighed, stepping forward to stand next to you. She didn’t look anywhere but at you, her hands itching to wipe away that stray tear. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it the house? We have one more we can look at, Y/N.”

“It’s-” You cleared your throat, shaking your head as you looked down. “It’s not the house.” You sunk to the ground, holding your knees to your chest nervously. Wanda joined you in the grass, crossing her legs as she looked at you.

“Do you not want to move in together?”

“Of course I do,” you expressed, meeting her wary gaze. You huffed, furrowing your eyebrows in what she couldn’t tell was anger or sadness. “Wanda, I’ve been wanting to move in with you for months.”

“Talk to me, detka,” she whispered, searching your eyes for any sign. “I need to know what’s bothering you.”

You breathed out shakily, pursing your lips together tightly for a brief moment before you said, “I just need the house to be perfect for you. I… I just want it to give you something to look forward to coming back to everyday.”

“Oh, baby,” she laughed, tilting her head as she brought your face in between her hands. “It’s not the house I’m looking forward to coming back to. It’s you.” She chuckled lowly, smiling as her thumbs wiped away the loose tears covering your cheeks. “Y/N, I’m not picky about the house we move into, as long as you come with it.”

You stared at her, sniffling. “That was really cheesy,” you confessed, causing her to laugh. The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a brief smile. “Like, that was off the charts of cheesiness.”

“Alright,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Wherever you are, Y/N, that’s where I’m meant to be.”

“Do you like this house?” you whispered.

She laughed softly, nodding her head. “This is the perfect house.”

“Then we’ll take this one.” You smiled at her, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against her lips.

“Not to ruin this intimate moment or anything,” you pulled away, your jaw locking in annoyance as Wanda looked up at the realtor with a wide smile, “but did I hear that you two are taking this house?”

“Yes,” Wanda answered, chuckling. She smiled softly, turning back to you to meet your gaze. “We’re buying the house.”

━━ᗢ━━

Present Day Wanda sighed as she brought you into her side, looking at the framed quote in front of her. “‘Wherever you are, that’s where I’m meant to be.’” She smirked. “I’m pretty sure I read that in a fortune cookie or something.”

“I don’t even care,” you stated. “I know it from you.” You looked at her, feeling her lean close to you. And when her lips were inches away from yours, you laughed lightly as you slightly pulled back.

“It still stands true,” she promised, leaning forward to brush her nose across yours, pulling a smile out of you.

“Oh, yeah?” She nodded as you smirked. “What happens if I go somewhere you can’t?”

“I’ll find a way,” she claimed, moving to step in front of you. Her body still flushed against you by your arms, the tips of her fingers teased your jaw as she met your gaze. “I know wherever you go without me, Y/N, I’ll find my way to you. Through hell and highwater.”

“Let’s hope I don’t wander too far away from you then.” She started to smile, but it was interrupted when you closed the distance between your lips.

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #wanda #maximoff #wanda x reader #maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #reader insert #christmas #day 9 #day nine

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catholicdaredevil · 2 years

Text

not if it's you || part six

eddie munson x gender neutral reader

summary: eddie sneaks in your window and finally the two of you admit to things

words: 1.1k (this is the shortest one)

warnings: readers parents lecturing them, mentions of their dad yelling and doors slamming, first kiss, no gendered pronouns or description, and obviously the poem? quote? thing is not mine

ao3 link

series masterlist

gif credit: @winterswake

so this is the last part of this series and it has been a crazy ride and i'm so thankful for every one reading and caring and letting me know their thoughts i hope this ending is sweet and soft enough for you all and i love you so much 'til next time!!!! [also his smile is so pretty in this gif i'll die]

“You know, we thought you were going to do more than this once you graduated,” Your dad speaks around the food in his mouth, looking towards your mom who nods along with him. The message is the same every time he speaks, that you’re doing nothing with your life, that you’re wasting all of what they gave you, their disappointment in you goes on and on. You’ll take this to yelling, to screaming, but it sours your appetite nonetheless. Your bitterness chokes up your throat, overflowing before you can stop it.

“I think if I didn’t know before, you guys reminding me every single day would make sure that I know now.” Your eyes are glued to the table, too scared to see the reaction to your words. You can hear the rough clink of silverware hitting a dish, your chair screeching in its movement as you stand suddenly. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

Long strides carry you across the house towards the stairs, gaze on your feet, unwilling to meet your mom’s horrified look or see the red creep its way into your dad’s face until he explodes. You’re halfway up the stairs before either one of your parents can respond, stomping on the carpeted path to your room. Your throat is tight and you can feel the impending tears threatening to spill, the familiar weight that carves into your chest. The door swings open under your rough shove but the tears that have welled in your eyes stop the moment you see what’s in your room. Or rather who.

Eddie is laid out on his side, one knee in the air, and hand holding up his head with a grin plastered to his face. A watery laugh works its way out of you and the relief at even just the sight of him is visceral. Eddie sits up and whips a backpack off your floor, pulling out his lunch box full of weed and a walkman with two sets of headphones. You can hear the clatter of tape cassettes filling the bag, shifting as he tugs things out.

“What are you doing here?” You sigh, crossing the room until you can collapse onto the bed next to him, pushing your shoulder into his chest. The weight on your chest dissolves away in his company, nothing but the soft haze of his incorrigible happiness left behind.

“I broke in through your window. Thought you might need a break from all that down there, turns out my timing was pretty good.” Eddie winks, arm wrapping around your torso to pull you further into him. He waves towards your door, rolling his eyes as your dad starts yelling downstairs. For a moment you’re concerned he’ll make his way upstairs but you hear the slam of the basement door instead, and you know he won’t be seen again until tomorrow.

Eddie pulls you back from your worries, with a tight squeeze of his arm around you. He croons, leaning down over your face to make eye contact with you. “Plus, it’s my job to take care of you, I’m a workin’ man haven’t you heard?”

His hair hangs over you tickling the skin of your jaw and for a moment you think about moving up, connecting your lips with his smiling mouth and kissing every ounce of love you have into him. But he moves, digging through his bag for the right tape and the moment passes.

“That sounds like rotten work.” You complain, letting your head fall into his lap and laying your legs out across the bed in front of you. Eddie pauses to look back at you, tape clutched in his hand and his eyes are so intense you’re worried you must have said something to upset him.

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

His words are barely more than a whisper and yet the conviction in them could move mountains as easily as they move you to tears. There’s a quiet sniffle in the silence as you tuck your head into his shirt, no longer able to handle the emotion in his stare. Eddie’s hand moves to cup the back of your head while you cry, not shushing you or rushing you through it. Just comfort.

When you finally pull back there’s a soft smile on his face and he’s holding up the walkman, having already popped the tape in while you weren’t paying attention. Eddie gently shifts your head out of his lap, crawling around on your bed until he can lay next to you before placing one set of headphones over your ears. He dons the other set and presses play, settling down with his hand just barely touching yours.

You bridge the gap without hesitation, grabbing his hand into yours and lifting it until the silver rings glint in the last remaining light of sunset that pools into your room through the still open window. You twist and turn his rings as the music plays, so thankful for his apparent and unending knowledge of when you need him most. Eddie flexes his fingers as you go, hand otherwise limp as you move it back and forth relishing in the warmth of his touch.

Turning to look at him you find that Eddie’s already looking at you, studying your face. It’s all too much, the wave is back and this time it finally drags him under, water filling his lungs and he can’t breathe without you, can’t think without you. The decision is made for him when your mouth ticks up into a smile in reaction to his eyes widening as you catch him staring. Blush dusts across his cheeks but before you can open your mouth to speak he pulls his hand from yours and grips the back of your neck firmly, surging forward to kiss you.

It’s perfect.

The cool breeze floating through your room, the quiet music of a new tape Eddie’s made for you, and his soft lips on yours. It’s passionate and dizzying and everything you could have ever dreamed of, all those nights in his bed at a newly shared home. All those mornings that you’d tortured yourself over ‘what if’s’, bending your memories to fit your hopes in a way you weren’t too sure aligned with reality. His love for you pours out of him with every passing second until you’re both gasping for air, foreheads still pressed together. Eddie laughs softly, too much joy inside him to keep it all under wraps.

“I love you,” you breathe, hand resting on his chest, feeling his heart thump erratically. A drumline to your favorite song, a sound that’s tattooed across your chest just over where your own heart is.

Eddie beams, hand cradling yours to him. He leans in closer, lips brushing against yours as he responds. “Hey, that’s my line.”

fics get reblogged to @h-llfirelibrary!!!!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #not if it's you #ezra writes

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everythingacotarbxm1012 · 5 months

Text

They're Mates Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Vee's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Part One

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Vee’s story? What were those burns from? If Vee was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prior and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amen was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Vee. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Another pause ad Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left the scars from the burns.”

The image of Vee gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Vee. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Vee, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males. Illyrian females are seen as nothing more than breeding stock. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Vee before either of them even considered it. Vee interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Vee’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Vee. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Vee was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Vee, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just cut off her wings and be done with it.”

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.

“I suspect that if Vee was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Vee’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Vee himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Vee after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Vee, derived from Velaris. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Vee is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Vee’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Vee were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #actor fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre #rhysand x feyre #cassian #3rd person pov

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nephytale · 1 month

Note

ϟϟ

Send me ϟ for my muse to tell yours the story behind one of their scars.

The stars in the sky were clearly visible thanks to the fact that there was not a single cloud in the city. The sea was calm, serene, on that spring night while a soft cool breeze hit their faces. There, on the coast, on the small patch of sand that was surrounded by rock formations that led to the sea, there was a bonfire. Their ship was hidden on a nearby island, but that didn't stop the pirates from deciding to have a good time. Since had already crossed paths a couple of times with Senritsu and noticing that she was pleasant company, she invited her to spend a night by the bonfire, with snacks and drinks, while they laughed and shared stories. Since the doctor had joined the crew, the others understood that they should not be too loud and scandalous, and she had emphasized it again when she alerted them of the woman's invitation with a keen ear.

They were calm, happy, enjoying a great time all together. Even if they weren't all sitting around the campfire, and everyone was enjoying it in their own way, you could feel the togetherness of the people.

Ryoko laughed softly. She turned her back to Senritsu, and lifted her blouse - she lifted it so high that it reached above her shoulders, there was no shame in showing off her body - On her lower back, a tattoo could be seen that consisted of two sais crossed in the shape of X. And above them, a red dragon ascended along her entire spine until it reached the base of her neck.

"My most significant scars are under these tattoos, I decided to transform a couple of bad experiences into art, how does it look?" Holding her blouse up with one hand, she used the other to point to the pair of sais tattooed on her lower back. "This was the first…" Ryoko paused, then readjusted her blouse and sit again in front of the campfire

"My best childhood friend, turns out to be the son of the most powerful pirate that sails the seas. He never really did anything wrong, but just because he carried his father's blood, the navy has treated him like an evil-born demon forever, we were thick as thieves, or rather, I was the tick that stuck to him to survive" She paused and just a few seconds later, let out a good-natured laugh. "We became friends over time… we were almost like siblings…" There was a small sound of someone clearing her throat and Ryoko turned to look at her doctor, who was simply smiling in an exaggeratedly innocent way to be real.

"Well, siblings was not the word that defined us… but we only discovered it when we met again some time later. Anyway, getting to the important thing. Shortly after our paths divided, the navy had captured me. They wanted information about him. And I preferred to die rather than give them information. They took me to the most disgusting cells you could imagine. They didn't feed me, they kept me chained, there was a damn leak that echoed in the place, the only sound I heard for days. That was driving me crazy. Until one day they changed my room. There, two executioners and a lie detector began to ask me questions, and I lied to protect him. For every lie I told, the executioners gave me a whip on the lower back. The punishment was so much, so much the pain, that my bones had been exposed. Their target, and I quote their words that I will never forget 'We are going to hit you every time you lie, until you tell the truth, we will make you unable to walk anymore only with our whips, or until you faint from the pain. You choose.' And so I spent a couple of days. At least there they fed me and gave me water, they needed me lucid to answer their questions. Although my legs had already stopped working, I waited patiently for them to lower their guard and managed to escape from there, crawling until I finally found a very kind person who brought a doctor to help me" She smiled, honestly and softly. She was actually fine, leaving aside the permanent lower back pain it caused her.

Sipping some of her tea, she let out a soft sigh "But we've already talked too much about me, please tell me about yourself, do you have any scars to tell the story?"

{ @hunting-songs }

#you can call me captain ryoko; ic #hunting songs #tw kidnapping #tw torture

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redhairedwolfwitch · 2 years

Text

The Story of My Life - Legacies x Noralise!Daughter!Reader

I Can't Be the One to Stop You

B/m/n = biological mother’s name

A/n: it has begun...

"What the shit is going on, why did you shove Lizzie in that-" You were cut off as Hope put her hand over your mouth.

"Vardemus, where is he?"

"Whitmore College. I can take us." You replied, shoving Hope's hand away, earning a smirk from her before Hope walked out, taking the coffin that she'd shoved Lizzie in with her.

"What in the-" "Lizzie and Y/n could siphon Hope. She's afraid, even with with her humanity off." Mary-Louise and Nora whispered to themselves, pausing as they spotted B/m/n trying to get a closer look at the coffin.

///

"To think, supernatural forces, or alien life do not exist in some form or fashion is both short-sighted and deeply narcissistic. Does anyone believe us things are possible? Or are all taking this class simply to mock me?" Professor Vardemus asked, turning his back to face the projected screen of the Pyramids of Giza.

"We believe."

Vardemus froze as he heard Hope's voice, turning on his heel to spot you and Hope sat at desks in his class.

"Yes. I am quite certain you do." Vardemus replied, as Hope stood up, not even sparing you a glance as you sighed, swearing under your breath before standing up too.

Mary-Lou and Nora smiled at each other as they watched your reluctance to stand up in front of a class of people.

///

"This is astounding!" Vardemous exclaimed as he began to study the creepy coffin with some piece of tech.

"Does that mean you know what it is?" Hope tilted her head to the side, bored and waiting.

"Not exactly, but certain elements. This writing for example, not visible to the naked eye, but scrawled in blood in multiple languages, speaking of the gods! Y/n, you may be familiar, but this is the gods of a dozen different cultures, maybe more! Oren included!" Vardemus exclaimed as Hope huffed.

"Look, I know that you're supposed to be the expert, but gods don't exist. Also, who the hell is Oren?" Hope asked, glancing at you as you shivered.

"Malivore is supposed to have erased history of the gods, but Vardemus had some scrolls, including a godly angel, Oren... turns out, he's my father. Every time I die, or most of the time, he talks to me, gives me advice before I revive. He talks about you a lot actually." You replied, folding your arms as Hope quirked a brow.

"Oren?" "He talks about Hope a lot, there's something about the Tribrid, isn't there?" Our daughter being in love with her is a prime example." Your mothers bickered between each other.

"Nor do vampires, Hope, at least as far as most people are concerned. Y/n, judging from the quartz halo, I'd say you achieved your title?" Vardemus asked, a knowing look in his eye as you shuffled slightly.

"Angel of humanity, emotions technically. Anyway, anything else on the creepy coffin?" You asked, letting out a groan as Vardemus started a lecture.

"Angel of humanity? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" "It means Hope and Y/n are even more tangled together than before." B/m/n replied, answering Nora's question.

"Myths, are but one discovery away from becoming our reality."

"Did that guy you quoted say that too?" Hope snarked, stepping closer as Vardemus removed his glasses.

"No, I did. At first glance, I assumed this was a forgery, but primary analysis shows it is ancient. Now I have to run more tests to define it's purpose and origin, but out of curiosity, why did the two of you bring this to me, instead of your headmaster?" Vardemus asked, keeping his face stoic as you gave him a panicked look.

"Oh, Doctor Saltzman and I had a fight, so I'm taking the semester off."

"More like beat him into a coma, but he could be dead for all we know." "He better not come here, or we'll pull out his vocal cords and play pin the tail on the headmaster." Nora threatened, her hands clenched as Mary-Lou nodded in agreement.

"Not like we're both supposed to be graduating or graduated soon, but I suppose we can blame the monster problem for that." You interjected, biting your lip as Hope looked at you.

"Did she ever pick a college?" B/m/n asked, but Mary-Lou shook her head, "Not that I know of, she was too distracted by everything with Hope."

///

"Trust me, it would be way more miraculous if Lizzie Saltzman were dead." Hope snarked, snatching the thermal camera from Vardemus as you moved to the other side of the coffin.

"Hope, what's happened to you?" Vardemus frowned, turning to you as your hand lingered over the latch to remove the lid.

"You're supposed to be so brilliant, you tell me." Hope replied, her eyes glowing yellow as the black veins protruded from under her eyes, gaze shifting to you as you froze, face heating up.

"Is she-" "Yes." "She finds that attractive?" "Can we stop talking about this please?" Your mothers grimaced, unsure of how they felt about all of this.

///

You zoned out as Hope began to talk about what she had done.

"Able to siphon an endless amount of magic, which sounds like a lot, so, I did a sleep spell on her, and am waiting for her to starve, if my sweet Angel would stop trying to release her when she thinks I'm not looking." Hope turned her head to you, glaring as you stared at her defiantly.

"Endless amount of magic... there's a limit to what we can siphon, like the Phoenix stone."

"Which exploded in your mothers' faces, I remember." Hope snarked, pausing as your wings decloaked, stretching out to make you seem more threatening as you loomed over her.

"You don't get to talk about my mothers that way."

Nora smirked deviously whilst Mary-Lou felt pride bubble within her at your reaction to Hope trash-talking them.

///

You paused as Hope was pulled into a Chambre de Chasse after opening the jar Vardemus gave her.

"She threaten to kill you in there?" You asked as Vardemus returned, walking over to the coffin.

"Of course, as expected from someone without their humanity, you however, Y/n, are an engima, as the angel of humanity, I do not understand why you stand with her." Vardemus replied, removing something from his pocket as you sighed.

"She calls me the thorn in her side, but, then she kissed me and said she wanted to, and I've been in love with her for a while now and apparently I can't die permanently, unless Hope does- ouch!" You winced, feeling the needle in your neck before your eyes fluttered shut.

"I apologise Y/n, but your attempts to be the Angel on the Tribrid's shoulders are simply not enough right now." Vardemus whispered as he rested your body on the ground.

"What did he dose her with?" "I have no idea, but she's out cold." B/m/n replied, kneeling down to listen to your breathing.

///

"Last night you said monsters are the least of our problems." Jed replied, moving to sit down as Ben sighed.

"Because they are nothing compared to Gods."

///

You were unconscious as Lizzie completed her transition, running into a door in the process and discovered her fangs, deciding then, it was time to kill Hope.

Lizzie paused as she spotted your sleeping form, hesitation washing over her as she remembered what you said.

Killing Hope would kill you.

So she decided to confront Hope in the Chambre de Chasse first.

"Do you think she cares she could kill Y/n too?" "It depends on how far she thinks she needs to go." Your mothers concluded as they watched Lizzie glance down at you.

///

"It's a big tree, Hope. I made more than one stake, and Y/n's not awake to save you."

Klaus' key didn't work. Nor Landon's. Or your key, surprisingly. Only after Lizzie had told Hope to get to the root of her problem, did she find the correct key.

///

"I need your help, because as much as I want to kill Hope Mikaelson. I can't."

"See, what I mean, I literally can't kill her, it's not even guilt over potentially killing Y/n!" Lizzie exclaimed, leaving Vardemus to test his theory.

"It's bad enough I can't kill her, now I'm protecting her!" Lizzie yelled after catching what Vardemus threw at Hope's body.

"I think it's finally time you tell me how exactly is it you became a vampire." Vardemus stated, raising an eyebrow as Hope woke up, hearing a gagging noise coming from behind Hope.

"What the-"

"Intriguing!" Vardemus exclaimed, noticing the liquid on the floor you'd thrown up, "your body rejected the serum, and instead of metabolising it, you woke up and emesis occurred."

"You mean I threw it up. That was disgusting." You replied, wiping your mouth on your sleeve, "now what the hell is going on?"

"Is that an angel quality or?" Mary-Lou turned to B/m/n, frowning as B/m/n shrugged, muttering that Oren rejected serums and poisons differently.

///

"Technically, i'm a heretic, the bibrid, to your tribrid-"

"Lizzie, the vampire-witch hybrids were part of a coven called the Heretic Coven, including my mothers, and you're not the only hybrid here, seems like we're starting to make girlband." You interrupted, removing the red oak pencil from Hope's hand without difficulty, as Hope glared at you.

"A history lesson as she disarms the Tribrid without even flinching." Nora hummed in amusement.

"Incendia."

"Fucking hell, L!" You shouted as the pencil turned to dust in your hand.

"Do you have a pencil I can borrow?" Hope turned to Vardemus, who sighed.

"Hope, Elizabeth can do you no harm. In fact, I'd be willing to wager, she'll do anything you say."

"Oh, please tell me you're kidding, it's one of those?" You asked, giving Vardemus a desperate look as he nodded.

"L, who's blood did you drink before you died?" You turned your head to face Lizzie.

"Beats me! Whatever vampire donated their blood to the school's first aid kits. What is happening?" Lizzie asked, her voice getting louder with her frustration.

"It was my blood, which I'm guessing means you're sired to me." Hope concluded.

"The sirebond. Of course." Mary-Lou grumbled to herself, confusing B/m/n as Nora folded her arms and continued to watch.

///

You frowned as Lizzie hopped by you on one leg, exclaiming that the stoner chick was gone, even though she was compelled.

"You don't think-" You began, looking at Vardemus.

"Y/n, it seems you have a relative on your father's side." Vardemus replied, Lizzie and Hope turning to look at you in confusion.

"Long story." You deadpanned, teleporting away as Hope knelt down to pick up Jen's beanie.

"Did you know?" "Angelo never talked about any, he just said the ring was to be Y/n's, after me." "How much talking did you and Oren do exactly?" Nora and Mary-Lou asked, gaining glares from B/m/n.

///

"Hey, we need to talk!" You exclaimed, spotting the stoner chick trying to shove the coffin into the back of her truck.

"Look, it's a long story, man-"

"My father is Oren!"

"You're Oren's kid?" Jen rubbed the back of her neck, not believing you until you uncloaked your wings.

"Okay, cuz, we'll talk another time." Jen replied, her eyes drifting to Hope approaching behind you.

"Jen. Oren. Who comes up with these names? Do you really believe those are the names of Gods?" "Their true names were most likely lost to history, or cannot be pronounced by mortals." Nora elaborated, smiling as Mary-Lou nodded, leaning close so their foreheads touched.

"Care to explain why my locator spell didn't work on you? Had to follow your scent." Hope asked, holding up Jen's beanie.

"She's a God, like my father." You deadpanned, rolling your eyes as Hope and Jen sassed each other.

"I'm a pacifist, so I don't really want to hurt either of you."

"Don't worry, you won't." Hope replied, before her face dropped as Jen picked up the 5000 ton coffin and threw it like a baseball at Hope.

"Sorry, tiny angry dude, and uncle Oren's kid, but you don't want to know the things that you think you do." Jen replied as Hope got up, ouching and saying she really did.

"If that hurt Hope, what are the odds that Gods can kill the Tribrid?" The question went unanswered.

Jen sighed, picking up a piece of the coffin and raising it to stab Hope, but two hands grabbed her, the familar red glow of siphoning leaving Jen to fall to her knees as you and Lizzie took action.

"Now she fights?" "She was going to hurt Hope." "Of course she fights now." Your mothers agreed amongst each other.

"Hey, bitch." Lizzie smiled, whilst Jen got up from the floor.

"Whatever you two are, since you're definitely an angel, cuz, I want no part of it." Jen declared, as Hope replied that it wasn't an option.

"What the bloody hell does 'cuz' mean?" Mary-Lou asked, frowning as B/m/n sighed, "slang for cousin."

"Well, then it's time to get high." Jen replied, jumping into the air to fly away, without wings.

"Without wings... Oren wasn't the only God." B/m/n whispered to herself.

"Well, you don't see that every day! What the hell is she?" Lizzie asked, looking at Hope, who stared at you.

"My paternal cousin, apparently." You deadpanned before Hope sighed.

"If I had to guess, a God."

///

Sitting on the ground of the carpark, you sighed as Hope declared she needed Lizzie's help against the gods.

"More like a canary in the coal mine! Going after Gods and bitchy vampires? Hard pass, take Y/n! She's literally an Angel demigod witch thing!" Lizzie replied, but Hope glared at her, and the idea.

"Or are you sure your emotions are completely gone, because you're protecting Y/n-"

Nora, Mary-Lou and B/m/n exchanged wondering glances as Lizzie pointed out the obvious.

"You're sirebonded to me, and Y/n loves me, you're both coming with." Hope declared, forcing Lizzie to astral project to MG and lie about where she was going.

"Get over it, this could be the beginning of a beautiful, mutually beneficial girlband." Hope smirked, using codependency as her bargainning chip to get Lizzie to agree.

"Great, you drive whilst Y/n and I nap." Hope replied, throwing the keys at Lizzie before Hope's hand hovered over the small of your back, walking you towards Jen's truck. Your body betrayed you as you leaned into Hope's warmth, falling asleep rather quickly, Hope's arm around your shoulder as her head rested near your neck, almost like a warning.

Sleep or get bitten.

///

Follow the Sound of My Voice

#legacies x reader #legacies imagine #legacies #hope mikaelson x reader #noralise!daughter #noralise imagine #noralise x reader #noralise #nora hildegard #mary louise #oc #hope mikaelson #lizzie saltzman #jen #rupert vardemus

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shadows-writing-lounge · 2 years

Text

Don't Become Uncoupled From Me | Flufftober #1

Flufftober Masterlist

Fandom:Pokemon:Black & White

Character: Ingo & Emmet

Content: Intended to be platonic. No use of Y/N. Established relationship (friendship) with the submas twins. Basing Ingo's and Emmet's speech quirks and personalities off game quotes and Pokemon Masters Ex dialogue. Emmet is also featured but less essential to the plot.

Reader info: Gender Neutral. No bodily, hair, or gender mention for the reader. They/Them pronouns. Reader is intended to be 18+ in the fiction and works as an attendant at the Gear Station. Mild characterization of an overworked, forgetful, altruistic reader. Intended Childhood Friends.

Variants: You/Your

-_-_-

The darkness that comes from the resting hours of the Gear Station was almost haunting. Various species of Pokemon scamper through the station halls. The Pokemon's scuffled footsteps and echoing calls the only ambiance to the rustling of papers. In a little cubby of an office they sort schedules back into the proper order. After a coworker dropped the stack she haphazardly piled them together without checking the dates.

To prevent any mishaps caused by wrong information or an absent minded individual. They found themselves working pass their intended time correcting the mistake. Fluttering of pages to eye the dates served as a distraction from a slight nagging sensation that they had forgotten something. An important thing. The attendant shifted the papers around; tapping them against the desk to align them properly.

As they settled the stack into the designated tray, they heard the clunk of the office door handle hitting the wall behind it. It wasn't an unusual sound nor an unusual occurrence of the hour. The door was always hitting the wall because of where it sat and how small the doorway was in the first place. They could count how many times Emmet alone had bonked his head on the top of the door frame. There was late night staff and security as well.

"You said you wouldn't do this anymore," the voice familiar albeit a little hoarse from projecting his voice all day.

"Ingo, I didn't want anything to be messed up for you two tomorrow. Especially since I have tomorrow off. I-" they paused before admitting "I also kinda forgot about that."

Ingo sighed before taking long strides over to the desk. He skimmed over the stack, pinching the pages between his middle finger and thumb. Using his index finger to fold the paper into the hold. After appraising the stack he gave a hum of approval. He turns in place, not changing his foot stance just twisting at the waist, to look at his friend.

"You've had a late arrival to your destination," Ingo starts before shifting. Turning with an audible step he holds out his hand to the attendant.

"Allow me to guide you safely off the station," Ingo paused, blinking at them. No perceivable emotion in his eyes. His prominent frown would make someone unwise of Ingo particularities think he was upset with the depot agent.

But he wasn't and the softened look whenever he makes eye contact shows it. Emmet teases him for being a softy but he does the same. They take his glove covered hand to which he gives them a reassuring squeeze.

" All passengers are secured and the train's now leaving the station," Ingo says with a firm nod. The subway master guides the way out of the office. Hastily releasing his grip on his friend's hand to lock the office door before slipping right back.

Ingo was always unaffected by the chilly night air of the gear station halls. Emmet on the other hand disliked it immensely. One time he had his Archeops draped over his back sleeping while he did. Up until it ended with a broken chair. Emmet sat hunched on the floor scribbling angrily at his work.

Most of the staff must be either gone or hidden in their security posts. Ingo had adjusted his gait to match his second car's pace not minding the speed difference.

"You skipped dinner again for this didn't you?" Ingo says startlingly sudden. He hummed seeing them nod in affirmation.

"That's fine. Emmet wanted you to join us for dinner," Ingo looks out of the corner of his eye accidentally making eye contact with them. He returned his gaze forward squinting when he saw an impatient white figure rolling on their feet, heel to toe.

Speak of a Subway Master and he'll appear. Ingo raises his unattended hand to flag Emmet down. The more energetic twin makes his way over.

A short exchange of words ensued between the twins.

"I've already inquired about them joining us for dinner," Ingo starts illicting a gasp from the white clad twin.

"Emmet wanted to ask. This is verrry mean of you," Emmet huffs. His smile remains but he puffs his cheeks in annoyance. Somewhat like a Jigglypuff whenever its performance is interrupted or ignored.

"I didn't think you'd stay behind to ask. Anyhow they haven't answered the question so you still have a chance." At this Emmet lights up turning towards his friend for their answer

"As long as you're not cooking," they tease.

"I am Emmet, and I resent that statement," Emmet feigned offense, slapping his hand to his chest. He chuckled sidling over to their side, opposite of where Ingo occupied. Emmet wordless slipped his hand into their empty one. A habit of his since he was young.

Ingo leads; a small tug signaling the train is now on the move. Emmet filled the silence, talking about notable characters he saw on the train. He brought up having lost a battle early in the morning breaking his winning streak.

"It was my highest yet," he mourns the loss. He put himself in a bad mood, slouching as he walked.

"But you now have a new record to best," Emmet straightened up at the thought. Ingo let out a hum of agreement.

Emmet sped up now leading the three of them. Ingo missteps, letting go to avoid dragging the other two down with him. Vaguing registering that his hat has removed himself from his head. He stops himself from hitting the floor. Grasping the visor of this cap he moves it back to where it's supposed to be.

Ingo grounds himself and finds himself left behind as Emmet dragged their friend onwards.

"Halt, I've been uncoupled!" Ingo's voice carried far, similar to when he's signaling the departure of the trains or any instructions needed.

"Emmet will miss you. I will eat your share," Emmet called back looking over his shoulder.

Ingo sighed, not the first nor last time this'll happen.

"At least slow down, You're dragging them," he yells, starting to jog.

"Don't you become uncoupled from now!" Emmet teases them before looking over his shoulder to see if Ingo is gaining.

_-_-_-_

Emmet is a food menace, leftovers are a foreign concept for him. Put a baby lock on the fridge to ward off the man.

Note: struggling with Tumblr so this has been deleted and posted again sorry about that.

#pokemon black and white #pokemon emmet #pokemon ingo #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #x reader #platonic #flufftober 2022

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rachrar · 1 year

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Tillie - Chapter 4

A failed experiment, Tillie is mimic made and staggers along the razor thin edge of beast and man, attempting to find stability and hoping to find a place he is accepted as he is rather than who others want him to be.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Artist: Nautes

Previous Chapter Summary: After leaving Thunmir, Tillie feels a call on the pendant from one of his siblings. It turns out to be Glaukos, who now goes by Pun. After helping Pun heal, Pun tells him about the Black Blades, an assassin/thief guild, that Pun works for. Tillie joins.

Tillie licked the last of the blood from the vial. It was animal blood, apparently, but the taste made Tillie recoil. This was blood from something he’d never tasted before and it made his stomach turn unpleasantly in a way he’d never felt. If he had to put a name to it, it was similar to how Pun’s blood had made him throw up but less intense. He pushed the vial back across the table. Ayla picked it up, flicking it slightly to remove the few drops of Tillie’s saliva that lingered. “Is that enough?”

“Yes. Stop asking every time you give me a new one,” Tillie scowled. Ayla shrugged.

“I don’t know how much you need or if it’s different between races or species. I’d rather make sure you knew where you were going.” She shifted a paper around then passed one over to him. The paper was magicked specifically for him to have raised lettering. Since he had been earning more than enough to justify his position, he was given a little bit of special treatment.

He ran his fingers over the writing, snorting. “Why are you sending me to this guy? There isn’t even anything useful on this.”

“The customer wants something special. He wants to meet you first to, and I quote, ‘make sure you are worth paying.’” Tillie tapped on the table, nails clicking against the fine wood.

“Does he do this often?”

“When he wants someone new, yes. He’s very particular, but he also pays extremely well. If he likes you, you’ll end up being his personal contractor.”

Tillie paused his fingers. “How many people does he want killed to have a regular assassin on hand?”

“So far it’s been” —more paper shuffling— “ten. The first two were testers apparently and the rest were filled in with increasingly high guildies. He wants someone with a high level of skill but he explicitly didn’t want Pun again. He heard about you somehow so he put you as his first choice. Apparently Pun pissed him off, and since I know you like hearing that Pun failed, I figured it would be a fun one to turn over to you.”

Tillie didn’t like that it was stated so openly, but when he sat across from the third in command, he merely sunk his claw into the parchment and dragged it closer to express his displeasure. She inhaled when it left a deep scratch in the wood, irritated at the damage. He was useful enough that his spite fueled damages were tolerated well enough and he knew it. Nobody else could do what he did.

“Fine. What’s the pay? All it says is where to meet him.”

He heard Ayla shrug. The motion was just as annoyed as he was. “Listen, this guy is weird as fuck. The only reason we keep taking his money is because it’s worth his idiosyncrasies.” Tillie didn’t know that word, but from her tone he had a feeling it was a longer way of saying that the guy was a pain in the ass.

“What’s the name?”

“Ourbill. The blood is from his pets. Er, his ‘tools’. He gets pissed when you call them pets.” She snorted. “They’re just little companion mimics, they don’t actually do anything, but he’s very insistent that they’re tools and not pets.”

“Huh.” Tillie stood up, rolling the parchment and tucking it into a bag at his waist. “Alright. How far is he?”

“Same city, not sure where. He gave us the blood and said that it should be enough.”

Tillie’s tail flicked curiously and he paused at the door. “Has he heard about me then?”

She shrugged. “I guess so. We’re mostly hush hush about how we do things but rumors are always around no matter how we squash them.”

Tillie chuckled. “I’ll be back with your cut later.”

She leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up on the table. “Don’t die.”

“As if someone could kill me.” She shook her head in response but didn’t reply.

———

The tracking was easy. Tillie found little challenge in tracking down his prey, especially when he was given blood; it was practically a walk in the park. It seemed like the guy tried to complicate it on purpose though, bunking above an extremely busy and very boozy bar near the shore where seawind tried to steal away scents.

He didn’t go through the inn, tempted to buy a drink and knowing it would end up with him deep in the cups rather than working. Instead, he waited for the dark of night to steal away the sun and give him the opportunity to slink up the wall. The building was old and handholds many so it was quick and easy to climb. The guy was on the third floor and Tillie had to take more time to make sure nobody was nearby as he ascended, but after a few moments he was slipping into the open window.

“Leaving your window open when you’re expecting a killer is a bad idea,” Tillie chuffed as he closed the glass behind him.

“I pay your blood money. I expect you to do as you are told, not give opinions.” Ourbill’s voice was droning and monotonous with flicks of an unknown accent warping the syllables. Tillie leaned against the wall, toe tapping on the ground curiously. Three little creatures bounced and played in a corner on top of some blanket. From the way the vibrations were echoing, it was waxed or oiled. Ourbill himself was heavier than he expected, but he was neither tall nor wide. He was writing and as he lifted his arm to place the pen into a sandwell, Tillie heard the clank of metal against wood. Not a golem, he was too light for that, but not human either. Or elf, or dwarf, or anything else he’d spoken to as far as he was aware.

“What are you?” Tillie asked rudely, stepping forward to lap at the air around the man. Tillie felt no change in heartbeat that couldn’t be attributed to a natural adjustment as Ourbill turned around with a thoughtless magical movement spinning him so his back and chair were facing the desk and he was facing Tillie head on.

Ourbill made a sound in his throat of disgust. “Keep your bodily fluids away from me.” Tillie slurped his tongue back into his mouth wetly, making the noise loud on purpose. He heard Ourbill hiss softly under his breath, the sound catching Tillie’s attention. Gata hissed but not quite like that. Ourbill’s tongue made the sound round rather than the throat like gatas, so he was still lost as to what Ourbill was.

Tillie leaned over Ourbill, a hand on the desk and inches away from pinning the man to the wood. Ourbill didn’t move; he didn’t lean back or try to slip out from under him. Shockingly, he leaned forward instead and grabbed Tillie’s wrist, invading his space as much as Tillie was trying to invade his. Just as Tillie thought, Ourbill’s hands were metal prosthetics. The fingers and palm floated separately from each other and from the forearm. The buzz of magic made his muscles twitch but he too did not back down. A gentle, but firm, hand was placed in the middle of Tillie’s chest but below his gem. Ourbill’s fingers were spread to allow the point of the gem to slip between the middle two fingers and his palm pressed tightly against Tillie’s bare skin.

“Release me or you shall learn what my magic can do.”

Tillie debated it, tilting his head back and forth doubtfully. “You can’t be that much of a threat if you have to pay someone else to do your dirty work.”

Heat began to pool in Ourbill’s palm against his skin, his other hand gripping Tillie’s wrist more tightly. He increased the strength and it took only a couple of seconds for Tillie to acknowledge silently that Ourbill could quite easily snap his wrist if he actually tried. “This is your last warning before I burn this gem out of your chest and take it for myself.”

Tillie hummed as if thinking, the idea making a lance of fear slide through his veins. If Ourbill moved even an inch higher and pulled at the gem in the least Tillie would be on the floor like a bug, ready to be stepped on and thrown away. He kept his cool though, forcing himself to stay for a couple of seconds more before moving back. He didn’t want to show Ourbill weakness, but he was personally impressed by Ourbill, as no other person he had ever met, minus Thunmir, had ever been so calm in front of him. A begrudging respect that he had not felt in years warmed his chest from the inside.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tillie said dismissively, brushing Ourbill’s hand away as he straightened. “Fire and sulfur and explosions, I get it.” Ourbill leaned back into his chair more comfortably.

“Are you done?” Ourbill asked. When Tillie shrugged, he took it as a confirmation. “Good. Try again and I will not stay my hand.” He turned back to the desk and plucked out a paper. “I assume you cannot see, so I will read out the order. ‘For the price of—’”

“Is it written with charcoal?” Tillie interrupted. Ourbill seemed thrown off. Tillie heard something whip through the air and meaty slap against the desk with heavy thwap following immediately after.

“Excuse me?”

Tillie tapped the ground a couple of times with a toe claw, his tongue hanging out in a smirk as he confirmed what he thought he had heard. “Nice tail.”

Ourbill seemed nonplussed, the paper crinkling against itself as he lowered it slightly in his hands. “Perhaps I requested the wrong individual.” He rolled the scroll up tightly, a silken ribbon sliding in quick movements as he tied the parchment closed.

“Awh, come on, don’t be like that.” Tillie raised his hands and waved them slightly in an attempt to seem apologetic (he was not). “I didn’t mean to piss you off, I just meant that I don’t need you to read to me unless it’s written in charcoal. If it’s in ink then I’m fine, pens make an indent in the paper and I can feel it.”

Ourbill tapped the scroll against his hand. “Hm. Yes. It is written in charcoal. It is meant to be easily destroyed.” He stood, brushing past Tillie, almost shoulder-checking him. What a ballsy little man. One of Ourbill’s footsteps sounded much different than the other, another metal twang against the floor akin to his arms. Tillie resisted the urge to reach down and pull on Ourbill’s tail as he felt it slap him, the desire strong and hard to refuse. Thankfully Ourbill was out of reach before he lost his self control.

The fire ate the parchment in an eager whoosh as Ourbill tossed the scroll into the flames. “Do you actually want me to leave?” Tillie didn’t want to leave. He felt like he had been doing good at his job, actually, so to do something to wreck his positive streak was a little upsetting.

“I am re-writing the paper for you.”

Tillie fidgeted, picking at his claws awkwardly. It was unexpected and he didn’t know how to respond to that. Someone actually acknowledging something he couldn’t do, but not being angry about it and furthermore, offering to adjust in order for Tillie to be treated as an equal was something Tillie had not experienced. Not since Thunmir. He got concessions from the guild but that was only begrudging compared to Ourbill simply doing it to make sure they stood on the same level.

Ourbill returned to the desk and began writing. The sound of the nib scratching against the paper made Tillie’s skin crawl, just the right kind of noise that made him twitchy. He needed to drown it out. “What are your pe— tools?” He asked awkwardly, uncomfortable with starting conversations.

The pen paused. “Mimics.”

“Yeah, I know that, I mean, you gave me their blood to hunt you down. But if they’re tools, what do they do?” Tillie approached the corner slowly, not wanting to spook the little creatures.

“They are my bags.” Ourbill tapped the pen on the desk, probably to dislodge a clump of ink so it didn’t make a mess. Tillie stopped at the edge of the blanket and knelt down.

A mimic inched forward. It was bat like, little membranes catching the air and tiny claws helping it wobble its way over. “It’s a baby!” Tillie said, shocked, holding out a claw for the mimic to approach.

“Of course they are,” Ourbill said, waving a hand dismissively. “If they were adults they would be too heavy to carry.” Tillie couldn’t argue with that logic, but flicked it away gently when he felt the beast begin gnawing on the nail.

Ourbill finished his writing with a couple of sharp lines before setting the pen aside. “Here is the new copy.”

Tillie pushed the mimicling back onto the cloth, making sure it was toddling away and not returning before he took the paper from Ourbill. Ourbill waited silently as Tillie dragged a claw along the indentations.

Standard stuff, pay after proof of the kill, don’t do anything that incriminated him. Oddly enough, Ourbill called himself Merchant on the paper. Normally Tillie’s contracts were verbal and without any pronouns or names apart from the mark itself, but written like this, having a name of some kind was required. Tillie found it amusing that he was called “Contractor.” This order, compared to the rest he had ever taken, was written as a contract and explicitly included consequences for breaking it as well as a small section at the bottom that mentioned a reward. This guy was just full of surprises.

“So if I bring back the skin, I get an extra 20%?”

“Yes,” Ourbill said, “which I will not report to your guild. Consider it a tip for a job well done.”

“Weird,” Tillie mumbled. He brought his claw up to his mouth to lick away the ink, confused when he didn’t taste anything.

“There was no ink used,” Ourbill clarified as he returned to his desk. “There is no need to waste a resource when all you needed was the deformation of the paper.”

Tillie stood still, holding the paper for a moment, then rolled it up slowly. “Should I burn this? Or…?”

“Keep it on you. Do not be caught with it, of course, but it is your copy of our deal.” Ourbill waved a paper so it would make a sound. “I have my own copy. You can check it if you wish. I used a charcoal sheet so it would be legible to me when I traced out the letters for yours.”

“...No, I’m good.” Ourbill seemed like a person who would happily burn someone on a pyre for lying to him and Tillie had a feeling that Ourbill wouldn’t lie in return.

“Excellent. Then leave. I will see you next when you have the pound of flesh I purchased.”

Tillie tucked the rolled scroll into a bag at his waist, glad that it was one of the dimension bags that Pun had grabbed for him. He didn’t want to bend the paper.

———

Tillie took his time staking out the victim to ensure that there would be no suspects. Normally he just grabbed them and scuttled off into a dark corner to gorge himself, but he didn’t think that would be appropriate for this one. He needed to make sure the skin was whole so he had to be careful.

It was the longest hunt he’d had the entire time he’d been working for the Black Blades. The longest before this was a week, but he felt a need to be perfect, so when he was easing up on week two he didn’t mind it. He traced the parchment periodically to make sure he didn’t miss something, but there really was nothing more to it. Find the mark, kill him, make sure nobody suspects anything, and keep the skin. There was no time limitation listed, though he also didn’t dawdle. He couldn’t take another contract until his current one was done according to the guild rules.

It took 8 days, a full five day week and a half more after he first met Ourbill to find the right moment. The takedown was quick, engulfing the man’s head in his hand and yanking him into the darkness of an alley to slit his throat. Ourbill didn’t say that he couldn’t eat the insides, so he found a back alley butchery and borrowed the use of a few knives to make the work easier before eating his meal leisurely. He gave himself a day to finish the preparation before returning to Ourbill with the skin in the bag. He even removed all the hair and genitals just to make it a little cleaner. He probably didn’t need to, but he felt a need to impress that he steadfastly refused to acknowledge.

He needed to know what Ourbill looked like, the odd man making him curious and willing to deal with the initial dizziness of sight. He took a final lick of the human’s flesh before letting his bones shift and body contort. He flipped his hood up and made sure his mouth was covered, then walked into the inn casually with the bag at his hip. He winked at a beefy dwarf as he passed by, buying a pair of mugs before walking up the stairs. He sniffed a few times to make sure he went to the right door and pulled the cloth over his face to hide his mouth again before knocking.

“Merchant~!” Tillie chirped. “I have an ale for you!”

“I did not order anything.”

“I have your delivery too!” The door opened to reveal Ourbill. Tillie blinked a few times. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t a blue skinned, one eyed man with horns haloing his head.

Ourbill’s eye narrowed, the red iris glowing in the black sclera of an eye the size of an average man’s fist. The size of the eye meant there was no nose but he did still have a mouth that looked rather average for most humanoids. The horns started at each side of his forehead and curled up and around until they touched and made a solid, handle-like shape. Tillie had an intrusive urge to pick him up by the horns and launch him through the window like a bag just to watch him fly. Ourbill was perhaps 5’4” and Tillie still loomed over him as a human, a contrast that felt wrong in some way he couldn’t put his finger on. Ourbill pulled the door open further, revealing that his forearms down were both magical prosthetics with a teal glow pulsing through runes inscribed in the metal. Tillie’s gaze flicked up and he noted that the same teal glow escaping Ourbill’s shirt collar.

Ourbill looked Tillie up and down but didn’t move aside. “I ordered no delivery.”

Tillie rolled his eyes. He might look like a human ready to wrestle with some bulls and break horses, but he couldn’t hide every aspect of himself. He tugged down the scarf covering the lower half of his face, the sawtooth teeth and bony jaws impossible to miss. Understanding lit up Ourbill’s expression and he turned on his heel, waving for Tillie to come inside. Tillie all but skipped in, closing the door. He changed his speed when he saw Ourbill begin to glare, catching the door at the last moment to close it quietly. He noticed there was no second chair, so when Ourbill took the only chair by the desk, he instead pivoted to sit on Ourbill’s bed, his weight making a significant dent in the blankets and mattress. Ourbill’s eye twitched when Tillie offered him alcohol and turned away, uninterested.

“I do not drink swill.”

“More for me then!” Tillie said and raised a mug in a cheer, taking a few gulps of it before setting the cups on the ground and self consciously pulled the scarf back over his mouth. He untied the bag at his waist and tossed it over to Ourbill. The dimension bag was small even though the contents could be much larger, so it was useful in transporting large or messy items. “Here’s the skin you ordered.”

Ourbill caught it at the last second, very nearly missing it entirely. Tillie raised an eyebrow. Alright, not a quick guy. Magic might be his entire schtick. A pretty big and powerful schtick, he had to admit, but still, everyone had weaknesses. What a nice way to find out this confident man’s weak point. Knowing how to kill people was instinctive at this point and he saved that information in the back of his mind. He’d probably forget later, but it was noted nonetheless.

“Did you remove the hair?” Ourbill asked, pulling the drawstring and looking inside.

“Yup. Got rid of the dick too, figured you didn’t want that.”

“Assumption is a poor choice,” Ourbill murmured, “but you are correct.” He walked over to the mimic corner and turned the bag inside out. The wet flaps of flayed skin plopped on top of the three creatures. Tillie immediately heard little munching sounds and pleased squeaks from them as they descended, or rather, ascended into their meal.

Tillie watched in fascination as the mimiclings ate, their little bodies stretching more than he thought they could. Their forms were messy and ambiguous at best, shambling mounds of goo at worst, and it was mesmerizing.

“Have you never seen a mimic?” Ourbill asked. “They are rare but not unknown creatures.”

“I mean, no, not really. I don’t see often at all, so.” Ourbill frowned at the sarcastic tone.

“I suppose I cannot fault you for that.” He stared at Tillie, his large eye’s gaze piercing. Tillie felt like a specimen again, wiggling uncomfortably and looking away. He immediately knew he had failed the staring contest and made himself look weak, a lick of frustration burning at his still overfull stomach. “I am, however, surprised that you shift your form so often.”

Tillie shrugged as Ourbill returned to his seat. “It’s part of my special deal, makes people want to buy me over some rando in the guild, especially when they don’t want to deal with Pun. I get asked for by name sometimes cause of that.” He paused and his eyes tightened in a smirk. “Like you did.”

Ourbill scowled as it was turned back on him. “Do not get a big head,” he said sharply. “It makes for poor customer service.” Tillie went silent awkwardly, fiddling with the mug in his lap. There was less in there than he expected. He must have downed it faster than he thought he did. He tipped the last of the dregs into the other mug.

“So, uh. What do you drink if not this shit?” Tillie raised the second mug and tugged his scarf down to reveal his mouth, tilting it in a waterfall before hiding his sawtooth mouth once more.

Ourbill snorted dismissively. “You could not afford it.”

Tillie rolled his eyes. “With what you’re paying me I’m pretty sure I could afford damn near anything. What is it?”

Ourbill finally looked away to check on his mimiclings, ignoring the question. They were slowing down in their efforts to stuff themselves until they burst, rolling around like fat little balls. Tillie suppressed the desire to smoosh one gently just to feel how plump it was. He really did want to be gentle too, something that surprised him. He normally would have thought about squeezing small things like stress toys but the worst he could muster was irritation when one waddled its way over to him and bumped against his foot.

He felt Ourbill tense but the man didn’t move, watching him keenly for any hint of a threat. Tillie pushed the empty mug away from the mimic, figuring it probably shouldn’t have any booze even if it was just a few drops. It burbled and made a noise he was pretty sure was meant to be a chirp but just came out like a gurgly grumble. Tillie pulled down his scarf and gave a soft hiss, a deep one that warned the baby that it was intruding on his domain. The mimicling whined in distress, legs working overtime to skitter away and comforting itself with its siblings. Ourbill relaxed minutely but Tillie could tell that he was overstaying his welcome.

“That was a brave one,” Tillie commented as he downed the last of his ale. He picked up the other cup and stood, stretching for a moment and listening to joints pop, then cocked a hip and looked Ourbill up and down. “Contract complete or did I miss something somewhere?”

Ourbill turned in his chair and pulled out a bag of coins, the metal jingling merrily but somehow more dully than it should. “10,000 gold as we discussed.” He held the bag out for Tillie to take.

Tillie jiggled the pouch to test the weight. It was all there but there was some softness that he didn’t expect. Confused, he opened the bag and jammed a finger in. The moment he touched it, he understood. It was all wrapped up like it came right from a bank, the little rolls of coins neatly packaged with fabric to keep them together. “Gotta say, you’re the first to give me bank gold.”

“Hm. Perhaps not the last time I shall do so.” Tillie looked up at that, wondering if it meant what he thought it did. “Here is your tip of 2,000 gold for providing the additional service.”

Tillie perked up, taking the second, smaller pouch eagerly. That too was rolled and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of that before. He knew of it, but keeping the annoying little discs in neat tubes kept the gold from ringing out and tempting thieves to try and steal was something he hadn’t considered before.

Tillie leaned forward, eyes hooded and looked Ourbill up and down like a dish he wanted to eat. “So, that drink you said was your favorite. What was it?”

Ourbill looked confused, answering before he really thought about the non-sequitur question. “Phoseon Ikuni wine, specifically the vintage from the early 500s but no later than 523.”

“So just under a hundred years ago, gotcha,” Tillie’s eyes crinkled in a smile as he thought about that . It was currently 581 so that vintage would be pretty damn old. “Next time you call, I’ll grab a bottle in thanks.”

Ourbill looked around the room as he processed what Tillie had said. “We shall see. Now leave.”

Tillie inclined his head. Now just to find out what the hell Phoseon Ikuni wine was.

#Everia: Tillie #Everia: Ourbill #Everia: Other #Everia: Novel #Blood or Gore #writing #writeblr

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