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wen-kexing-apologist · 8 months

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Who is Mew Anyway?

I realized we are over halfway through Only Friends now, and that I have only talked about Mew once in my write ups. Which…makes sense for me, all things considered, until now he’s kind of been a blah character in my eyes. And I am leaning in to and really appreciating how intentional that is beginning to feel on behalf of Jojo and co.

When you think about it, until literally halfway through the show we have known almost nothing about Mew besides the fact that he is the table keeper for his friends, he is a hotel management student, and he’s a virgin. If you asked me to list any other facts about Mew’s life or his role in life, I would not have been able to answer much of anything.

And that’s because Mew isn’t really anything. Personally, I feel like Mew thinks he has a strong sense of self and the second that something comes along to question that, all those illusions he has of himself start crumbling. When I look at Mew’s character, and I mean start getting in to the nitty gritty of Mew’s character, I don’t think Mew has any idea who he is. Which, for a show about college students is fucking brilliant. I thought I knew who I was in college, and then I graduated and promptly became queer and trans. I thought I knew what career I wanted, and then I ended up going to grad school for something outside of my initial plans. I know @waitmyturtles mentioned something similar about trying on different personalities in college in her Episode 7 Review.

Think about Mew’s apartment, it was his mother’s old place. He took it over after she moved out. He didn’t choose this place, we can’t be certain this is the type of apartment or the location that Mew would actively decide to be in. When he brings Top home the first night they meet, Top comments on the place:

“Your room is nice, it suits you”

To which Mew replies ‘It’s my Mom’s old room. I decorated it using ideas from the internet”

Which says to me that Mew’s own personality, his own interests weren’t even involved in the creation of his own personal space. He decorated it based on inspiration from what other people had done to their own places. And Mew’s apartment fascinates me further, as a color-coder in BL kinda person. Because Mew’s apartment is all over the place in its decoration.

On one wall we have striped wallpaper, in orange hues.

On another we have light blue walls with white and golden patterning. A yellow couch, a blue bookshelf.

In his room he has a wall that is painted a solid green

And I can’t quite get a good image of it, but the opposite wall in his room is painted a dark turquoise with white patterning, which is different from Ray’s house, but still evokes a similar visual point of comparison.

Even Mew himself, when we first meet him is alllllll over the place with his colors. He has lines all over his shirt, with squares of different colors. His second look of the show is a solid light blue shirt over top of a striped shirt with orange, green, yellow.

His bed sheets are similarly stripes with dark gray, green, yellow, and orange.

Which is to say, at the beginning of our time with Mew, it is hard to pin down who he is as a person. He doesn’t have a color, he doesn’t have a pattern, to associate with his character. He fluctuates between rich, saturated colors and light, washed out pastels.

When I think of Mew, I think of all the outfits he’s worn that have a strong green tint to them, but honestly, looking back through his wardrobe, Mew has a broad range of colors he chooses from.

(Now, I recognize that all of this could be because the costuming department does not actually care about color coding, and that the eclectic styling of Mew’s apartment was just how it already was. And that’s fine, but I’m here so I’m gonna overanalyze it.)

All this to say that, Mew’s colors, Mews home, Mew’s pattern choices are all very disparate. All this to say that as a result I am now assuming that Mew does not know who he is, and neither do we. He could go any number of ways. Mew could go orange, yellow, green, blue. He could be complicated (with complex patterns) or straight forward (with solid colors). But none of us know at the beginning of this show quite where he will go.

Truthfully, the only aspect of Mew that I have seen be steadfast throughout the show, is Mew’s moral superiority complex. Everything else is mutable. Mew has throughout most of the show, regarded himself as a good person. He doesn’t drink much, he doesn’t dance much, he doesn’t sleep around at all, and that somehow in his mind, grants Mew the opportunity to talk down to his friends.

He’s not an alcoholic like Ray who he has no problem lecturing in the bathroom about how he is going to be dead by 30, despite knowing that Ray is/was suicidal. He’s not a slut like Boston, who is far too obsessed with Mew’s virginity, etc. etc. etc. Mew fucks with Top, deciding that he is going to wait to have sex with him for awhile. And that is his right, but Mew doesn’t say he’s waiting because he isn’t comfortable with sex. He tells Boston and Cheum that he is waiting to have sex with Top to make sure that Top is serious about their relationship. Because if Top is serious about dating Mew without sex being involved, that means that Mew is worthy of the top tier because he is top tier, and not because he is an easy lay that Top can use for bragging rights (bagging a virgin).

And I would have previously entertained a conversation around whether or not that is true, but unfortunately for any dissenters to my read of Mew, now that Mew has decided to #embracethenasty, there is no convincing me out of my observation that Mew does not know who he is.

Why? Because the second that Mew starts retaliating against Top, the second he decides to ruin Top’s life, to stoop low, to be the lesser person…Mew starts dressing like Ray. I am certainly not the first person to notice this, it has been circulating in multiple different forms across my tumblr page, but.

Gif from @firstmix

Mew doesn’t know who he is, Mew doesn’t know how he fits in to the world now that he has decided to make Top’s life a living hell. I am not convinced Mew is capable of seeing himself as a bad person, because he isn’t a slut or an addict or a cheater. [As an aside here, this is Mew’s thinking, not my own personal beliefs on what makes someone a good or bad person]. So, of course, if he wanted to become a bad person. If he wanted to play at being as toxic and terrible as the people around him, it makes sense Mew would don the wardrobe of his “best friend”, Ray. Ray, who Mew looks down on for being an alcoholic, for not valuing his life. Who Mew has told time and time again to love himself, and to quit drinking and doing drugs, as if that is going to cure Ray’s addiction. And who in under five minutes just took a blowtorch to everyone’s relationships.

Why? Because Mew is so self-righteous that he looks down on others around him. Mew isn’t ready or willing to look at and acknowledge the nasty, flawed parts of himself, so he adorns the nasty, flawed parts of others, to abstract himself from his own behavior. He uses Ray’s clothing, Nick’s methodology, and Boston’s personality to retaliate at the people he feels wronged by.

Mew uses Boston against himself, wielding Boston’s sexual prowess, his willingness to fuck, his Hunter charm to get himself in to Gap’s apartment. He uses Nick’s methodology to steal the video of Boston and lords the knowledge over Boston’s head (like Nick did to Top), and again, he is wearing Ray’s clothing. But while Mew is trying to be a chameleon in his behavior, his appearance, his strategy to get back at Top, Mew’s own flavor of flaw starts becoming ever more clear.

Mew has a superiority complex.

It is absolutely, unbelievable shitty and vile to threaten to out Boston to his father. To treat Boston’s privacy and safety with such disdain. Boston records others and he keeps those images as evidence, so Mew steals Boston’s MO. Mew takes the recording of Boston, looks Boston in the eye, and makes Boston think that he is going to hold on to that for evidence.

Now, right before this, Mew does actually draw a comparison point between himself and Boston.

“You and I have something in common.” he says

“We’re both gullible”

Mew makes Boston beg. And after he has made Boston sweat sufficiently, he throws the flashdrive on the ground. He says: “I’m kidding. No matter how much I hate you, I won’t do it. Because I don’t betray my friend like you did.

“Then I’d be just as filthy as you are.”

While Mew is able to identify a potential flaw of his own, being gullible isn’t a fundamental aspect of Mew’s personality or character, being gullible isn’t who Mew is. It’s a flaw that he is pointing out only because he is still reeling from allowing himself to be fooled by Top and Boston. It’s a flaw that he is point out so that he can weaponize his superiority complex.

In other words: “You and I have something in common, but I am better than you because I don’t betray my friends” As if he didn’t just threaten to publicize Boston’s sex life to his father, the implications of which could have a national impact.

And while it is ultimately unsurprising that Mew channels Ray in doing all of this, it is interesting. Interesting because Mew is using Ray. Mew not only knows that Ray is capable of fucking up his own life, and the lives of the people around him, he also knows that Ray is the least liked by both Boston and Top. Boston’s distaste for Ray is subtle, as his obsession with Top and Mew has been more at the forefront of his interactions with his friends. But we have seen from the very beginning of this show that Boston does nothing to care for Ray. Boston is assigned to take care of Ray and make sure he is safe when he’s been drinking too much. Boston literally never once helps Ray when he’s drunk. Boston sees Ray and Sand crossed, cuddling, and generally having a good time, and Boston goes and airs Ray’s dirty laundry. Ray is the first person to confront Boston about cuckolding Mew.

So wearing clothing that is reminiscent of Ray when Mew goes to Boston’s house to threaten him is a flavorful undertone for how Mew is hoping Boston will see him.

At the points in which Top and Mew interact during the episode, Mew is not dressed like Ray, but he sure as shit does lord Ray over Top just to fuck with him. When Top comes to apologize to Mew, Mew asks Ray to find a new designer, literally asking Ray to replace Top. When Ray helps treat Mew’s injury after the group fight, Mew decides to use Ray as a rebound. To use Ray’s feelings for him as a way to experiment, once again, with the type of person he wants to be and the type of person he wants to be with. We end the episode with Ray and Mew dancing together at the bar, Mew dressed in a very Ray style

Because Mew is trying Ray on for size, trying his fashion, his company, his lifestyle (as we see from the promo for next week) and that is prone to make RayMew crash and burn, because Ray is self-destructive enough as is, and I don’t think Mew is going to do well with treating himself with Ray’s level of self-care.

Mew doesn’t know who he is, Mew doesn’t know what he wants, the only thing Mew knows is that he’s better than everyone around him, and he can only stoop as low as them is by pretending he is them, rather than facing the fact that he's just as terribly human as the rest of the group.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #raymew #topmew #forcebook #book kasidet #khaotung thanawat #neo trai #force jiratchapong #ofts meta #ofts analysis #only friends analysis #only friends meta

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bomberqueen17 · 4 months

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kitchen colors

so ok it's the weekend and we were snowed in for a week and i've done a ton of unpacking but it's all invisible yay

but dude was making low-key plans for the weekend and i was like NO WE MUST GO TO THE HARDWARE STORE AND GET PAINT SAMPLES

i had to like. drag him to look at the paint chips idk why it was so difficult.

So we haggled and hemmed and hawed and held chips up in various spots and eliminated almost everything I'd brought home. Nothing would do as the accent color. But the wall color... we narrowed it down to Behr's Thai Teal, Celtic Queen, or Bella Vista. Celtic Queen was their pthalo-est green; Thai Teal and Bella Vista are almost the same except Thai Teal is dustier and Bella Vista clearer. Dude felt the cabinets having a dusty cast meant the wall should do, and I strongly felt the opposite. He yielded to my intensity of feeling on this.

But none of the colors I'd picked out were suitable as a trim color to pair with either of the teals or the green, so we'd have to go look. A lime green, perhaps, or a bright orange?

I also felt that painting the bay windowsill a strong color was the wrong choice, so we decided it should be a high-gloss white, but of course a shade of white that didn't clash with the white countertop. Not having a sample of countertop, I instead brought a spare backsplash tile with me to the hardware store, so I could tell what color of white I needed (ugh).

Thus ensued Hell: Trying to pick which of the hundred colors of white would match the tile without being too obviously not-white (which would clash with the white-white plastic of the electrical outlets and the plastic window frames, which I am not painting. The outlet and switch plates are getting painted or replaced with something decorative, sure, but the actual bit you put the plugs into is staying as it is, I'm not painting that shit). But, fortunately, Dude comes of graphic designer types, and came through for me.

[image: a man's hands, holding a white subway tile and several basically-white paint chips, in front of a hardware store display of paint chips in every shade imaginable of white, beige, black, or gray. This is my idea of hell.]

We tried lime green with the teal. It looked banger as fuck, but the only problem was, it also looked exactly like a really classic IKEA duvet cover pattern from about 2000. I could not paint my kitchen to look like the duvet cover Dude had when we met. That is not going to work out, psychically.

I picked a brilliant orange, and also hated it. It looked like... the 1970s. it looked. Too much. It popped but like, in a slightly upsetting way. it was giving Miami vibes, in an early-90s kind of way.

I dithered, and finally Dude went and picked a less red orange, in fact called Joyful Orange. That looked much better, and I got sample pots of Joyful Orange and Bella Vista to take home. (They are SEVEN DOLLARS each can you believe. Ah well.)

[image description: In the center of the photo, a section of wall trim is painted bright yellow-orange, next to a section of wall painted deep teal. To the right, a blue-washed cabinet corner, the white tile backsplash, and a section of counter with the tea kettle on it; to the left is the paler yellow in the distance of the living room, with a bunch of blurry stuff piled in the middle of the room.]

It's. Sort of parrot colors? But it's bright and it's bold. I like it in every lighting situation. So I think this is what I'm going with.

And then for the outlet covers, I got one lighter shade of turquoise, and then dug out my craft paints. I bought a couple of spare outlet covers at the hardware store-- forty-eight cents apiece? I'd be crazy not to-- lightly buffed them with some fine sandpaper, and went to town. This is just the first layer, once it dries I'm going to go back over and try to add realistic veining and like metallic glitter and such to make them look like turquoise gemstone material.

[image: lying on a crinkled paper towel, a US-style outlet cover is mottled in shades of turquoise paint, in an irregularly-textured pattern.]

Ah maybe I should do a layer of clear coat and then do the veining? We'll see. I'm not sure.

#about the author #kitchen remodel

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years

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This funky little revitalized former train depot + caboose, in Accord, New York, was redone and designed by architect Marica McKeel. It’s now a colorful modern space, but retains some of the original charm.

A bench in the entrance foyer was made from the station agent’s desk.

In the foyer there’s the original ticket window and sliding door made from salvaged wood.

Looking closely at the door, you’ll see that they left the original turn-of-the-century graffiti.

In the living room, which used to be the waiting room, you’ll see the original wood and ticket window among the colorful modern furnishings.

In the living room Marica installed an orange tri-fold door that opens to the patio.

The contemporary kitchen has an architect-designed farmhouse table and Smeg appliances.

Double height turquoise staircase.

Restored original signage.

On the landing outside the main bdm is a sitting area.

In the main bdm is a contemporary king size bed w/4 built-in cubbies and 6 built-in storage bins.

Built-in desk and storage.

The bunk room has 6 sleeper-car inspired pods (4 queen size and 2 twins), plus color-coordinated drawers.

The bright orange upstairs bath.

She used this space alongside the stairs as a reading nook.

The 1920 baggage room was made into a yoga studio.

Downstairs bath. Both baths have washlet toilets with heated seats, front and rear cleanse features and air dryers.

The caboose is in the yard on train tracks..

Small table and train benches.

Cupola with 2 cushioned perches.

Built-in engineer's desk, mini fridge, and built-in day bed

Railway artifacts and ephemera decorate the caboose.

Exterior, circa 1906.

https://www.onlyinyourstate.com/new-york/train-depot-ny/

#converted historic train depot #converted caboose #modern architecture #long post

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testingthewatersss · 6 months

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Where you left me Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 3 5570 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

Bucky comes home

Once she’s alone, she really focuses in on her task.

It’s a little after 7pm when Bucky is finally on his way back to his suite. It had taken an extra 2 hours after the meeting had officially ended for him to shake Steve, and Sam, and their overly excited chattering, he’d nodded along for the most part, but had drawn the line at grabbing Y/N and heading to a bar for the night.

He’s tired. He’s more than tired. The nap he’d taken earlier has only worsened how badly his body needs to rest, and although he’d barely managed to force down the sandwhich and protein shake Steve had presented him with for lunch, he had, in fact, forced it down, not that it had done anything to ease the aching in his head.

The pressure behind his eyes is distracting, it’s throbbing, he’s squinting, even though the hall way lights are dimmed in the evenings.

He nearly trips over a cardboard box. That startles him. He mutters a curse and looks around.

Oh, god.

There are at least 7 half collapsed containers.

Despite himself, he panics. The route to his room is normally pristine, he doesn’t like the change, he can’t help but worry that something’s wrong, that maybe Y/N has left- that maybe someone came in and took her-

His door opens without any resistance when he touches it and then his heart stops.

He blinks jaw slack, frozen in position.

There has to be a mistake.

This, isn’t his room. This, is beautiful.

There’s a woven, intricate, piece of art is hanging over the bed, which is now made with plush, cream sheets- There’s a deep navy throw over the edge of it, it’s glowing in the light from the row of candles which are placed across his dresser, which now holds a few trinkets he recognises from Y/N’s apartment.

It smells like baking, like cinnamon and vanilla and home.

He takes a tentative step inside, terrified that he might do something wrong, that he might breathe too heavily and cause everything to melt away.

“Hey, handsome” a familiar voice coos, making his head snap to the right, away from his newly decorate bed- to her, “Long day?”

She’s wearing a soft cotton top, and shorts, her hair is damp and curly, face fresh and smiling.

Bucky Barnes has never felt luckier.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then he sees the rest of the room illuminated behind her silhouette.

His couch is in the same place, but now, instead of glaring white, the carpet beneath it is covered in a huge, pile rug- it’s coloured with areas of soft orange, deep turquoise and pastel pinks that have been woven in to look they paint strokes.

The glass coffee table is gone, replaced by a low, pine surface that looks old.

There’s art on the walls, there’s a framed picture of them both nestled amongst the budding collection of charcoal sketches.

Suddenly, he sees something that makes him tilt his head, a disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips, despite how exhausted and pained he’s been feeling all day.

Next to the edge of the couch, there’s a huge wicker basket; and it’s full, of thick, soft-looking quilts.

They’re different colours and fabrics, he can see the textures shifting in the folds that are escaping the edges of the containers.

“W-what’s that?” he asks, voice totally awed

Y/N follows his train of site, concerned that her plan has back-fired, that he hates the changes she’s made, that she’s offended him and over-stepped.

“This?” she asks, pointing towards the blankets

He nods, silent.

“It’s a basket full of blankets” she tells him, a little uncertainly

He gasps again, before looking at her with an expression so sweet that she can’t help but smile at him.

“Why?” he whispers, not understanding what he could have possibly done to deserve any of this.

“Because” Y/N replies softly, “Nobody is ever going to be cold in here”

Bucky feels his heart swell impossibly in his chest. He’s so overwhelmed that he barely hears the mechanical grind of his arm as it falls lamely by his side.

“Jesus christ, Y/N/N”

“Do you like it?” she asks at last, feeling a little nervous again, “I know it’s a lot, I can always-”

“Do I like it?” he echos, staring at her, now, instead of his new home, “Doll, I’ve- I’ve never seen anythin’ like it- I- I don’t know what I did to deserve this- to, to deserve you- I-”

Her lips are against his before he can finish speaking.

His hands find her waist- he tugs her in to his front, frantically trying to prolong the affection, to show her how much he adores her, how infinitely important she is to him

“Bucky” she purrs, finally breaking away for long enough to nuzzle into his cheek, “You really like it?”

“I love it” he tells her, turning to look around again;

Every time he blinks he notices something new, a new detail, a new object that has appeared during his absence.

“How did you do all this?” he asks when he spins to take in the kitchenette, and it’s new array of appliances, “Y/N/N, it’s been less than 6 hours”

She laughs lightly, padding over to the counters, opening the drawers to show him his new plates, they’re cream, and un-polished, rimmed with gold paint.

Their are matching bowls, and mugs, as well.

And, as Y/N tells him happily, he is now the proud owner of a proper espresso machine.

“I kept the jar of… uh, instant stuff you had, it’s up there” she nods to one of the higher cupboards, “and, I’m afraid the food isn’t arrivin’ until tomorrow, so the fridge is still a pickle only zone”

“The food?” he echos, wide-eyed

Y/N scoffs gently, arm reaching out to stroke his vibranium fingers, where they’re poised against the dark marble unit-

“Yeah, sweetheart, I ordered some groceries for us, but I didn’t think you’d mind a take out tonight?” she pauses, watching him blinking at her with an expression she still can’t quite classify, “I’ll cook for us tomorrow-”

“You don’t have to do that” he tells her, suddenly bursting with the need to let her know that he’s grateful, “This is so much, doll- it’s-you’ve- you’ve already done so much for me- I-”

“Hey” she coos, seeing how he’s quickly becoming flustered, “I know I don’t have to, I know you’re not asking, Buck- don’t worry”

He nods and starts playing with her fingers as she tickles them over his smooth metal palm.

“I… I’m just grateful, Y/N/N” he whispers, feeling the need to divert his gaze, again, “so grateful”

His eyes float over to the corner furthest from the window, to the spot on the floor to wear he’d confessed to sleeping earlier. There’s a huge pillow there now, it’s velvet and plush, and the softest shade of violet.

“Oh, sweetheart” she sighs, really seeing the sudden onset of emotion on his face, “It’s alright, come here”

As soon as her arms open in invitation, he moves into her embrace, he buries his face in her neck and takes what feels awfully like his first proper breath since that morning.

“How was the briefing?” she asks, not even attempting to move away from the hug now that his hands have slipped into her back pockets,

“Long” he mumbles, “Stevie’s over the moon, doll- so is Nat- they- they can’t wait to see ya properly, they wanted to take us out tonight, to, to celebrate-”

“They’ll just have to be patient” she chuckles quietly, kissing his hair, “We’ve got plans tonight”

“We do?” he asks, unsure, still hiding against her front, “What’re we doin?”

He doesn’t want to go out, or do anything other than this. He would, if she were to ask, but he really doesn’t want to have to be around loud noises, or crowds or-

“We’re staying in, orderin’ a pizza, and gettin’ an early night.”

Bucky is so relieved that he can’t help but laugh as he finally draws back a fraction, staring earnestly into her eyes.

“That sounds perfect” he says shakily, “I… I can’t think of anythin’ I’d rather do”

Y/N beams at his response, making him flush pink.

“Why don’t you get changed, sweetheart” she suggests kindly, seeing the tension in his brow, “is your head still botherin’ you?

He’s half way towards his dresser when he hears her,

“I…” he murmurs with a short nod, “I had lunch”

“Maybe you just need to get some proper rest” she says softly, sitting down on a stool by his newly renovated ‘breakfast bar’

“Maybe” he agrees absentmindedly, listening to her ask FRIDAY to place a ridiculously large order from their favourite pizza place.

He opens his draw and finds himself once again awestruck.

The old clothes he’s had since he’d first arrived at the tower are still there, but there are newer additions as well. He’d never gotten round to buying himself anything, he’d taken what he’d been given and been grateful. Steve had gifted him the leather jacket he wears for his birthday, and his combat gear had been updated by SHEILD, but the civilian items he had, were sparse and generic.

Metal fingers furl in the soft wool jumper that’s at the top of the newest pile of tops. It’s a deep teal, it’s so smooth that the sensors in his hand barely prickle at the contact.

He flips through the collection and sees at least 10 sweaters, all different colours, all ridiculously thick and comfortable looking.

“I guessed the sizes” Y/N admits from behind his shoulder, “but I figured you could do with some more layers”

“You shouldn’t have, doll” he murmurs, turning too face her, “you’re spoilin’ me-”

“That’s my job” she whispers, pecking at his cheek, “Plus, you’re always buyin’ me things, ‘bout time I evened it up a little”

He scoffs shyly, averting his eyes back towards the dresser.

“Thank you” he murmurs, too overwhelmed to counter her again.

Y/N takes that as a victory, she gives his arm a gentle stroke from behind, before heading back to the couch, where she curls up under one of their new selection of blankets, with the TV on a low volume, and a cup of real coffee on a coaster within reach.

Bucky dresses slowly, every movement making his eyes narrow with added discomfort.

He wears boxer shorts and one his new, thick, sweaters.

It’s endearing, the way he’s fussing with the hem, like he can’t believe it’s real, that it’s his, and nobody is going to take it from him.

Comfort, is a luxury. It’s something he never takes for granted.

For a long time, it hadn’t been something worth even dreaming about- not that he got to dream often- but now, it’s something he’s surrounded by, even if he chooses to avoid to most of the time.

It’s not always a deliberate act of self-punishment, although, sometimes, that’s exactly what it is. Mostly, it’s because it feels wrong, it feels dangerous, like a trap he’s been caught in before.

But with Y/N, beckoning him over, draped in soft fabric, and offering a warm, non-violent embrace, he can’t bring himself to care.

There isn’t any price, no matter how terrible, that he wouldn’t pay to be allowed to stay exactly where he is.

“I don’t deserve you, doll”

Y/N blinks up as he pads up to where she’s waiting,

“Of course you do, Buck- You deserve the world”

There’s a smile on her face that nearly makes him cry. He’s so grateful that he can hardly bare it.

He slips in on her flank, flesh arm wrapping around her shoulder, so she can rest her head on his chest;

She kicks the blanket she’s using over his body, covering his legs with the warm, knitted material and rubbing her shins against his.

Bucky feels his head loll back at the contact, and it’s only then that he realises all the pillows he’s surrounded by.

There are several, small cushions decorating the previously barren couch. They are varying shades of pastel pinks, and blues, and the two behind his neck feel so soft he finds himself wondering where she managed to find all these so quickly.

“I ordered it all this mornin’” Y/N tells him calmly, eyes rolling up to look at his face, “Whilst you were napping”

He squints, nuzzling the top of her head again, tucking her even closer to his side,

“How’d it get here so quickly?” is the only question he can think to ask,

“Money” she replies easily, looking back towards the TV, “and I pulled the Stark card, people make things’ happen if they think Tony’s involved.”

Bucky hums at that, still totally uncomfortable mentioning the man by name. It feels like more familiarity than he deserves, even though the billionaire has long adjusted to his presence, and is rarely anything other than civil.

“Has he been by to see ya’ yet?” he asks, knowing how important his friendship is to the woman he loves, “I bet he’s happy you’ll be close by for a while”

“He came by just as you left” she tells him, “We got lunch before he had to run back to the lab”

He smiles, happy that she’s had company, that she hasn’t been alone all day. Despite everything, he likes Stark, he respects him, and is genuinely grateful for the way he’s become so tolerant to his presence, and for the way he’s always keeping an eye out for Y/N, it makes him feel better knowing that he’s her friend, even though he suspects he’s more like a brother, with how long they’ve known each other, and everything they’ve been through.

“He helped me get all this sorted” she tells him softly, already anticipating the guilt her admission is going to breed, “He insisted, before you say anythin’- I told him not to, but he wasn’t havin’ any of it.”

To her surprise, Bucky just scoffs, before humming gently against her hair.

He’s too exhausted to do anything about the feeling of unworthiness that’s heavy in his gut. It’s been a fixture of his being for so long that it barely seems to matter anymore, even when it stirs to life, sending sparks of shame up to his chest, making him blush red and embarrassed at the idea of a man who’s parents he murdered, not only taking him in, but now helping shift furniture for his benefit.

It’s pathetic, really, laughable, that after everything, an act as small as this still provokes a reaction.

‘Sergeant Barnes, sorry to interrupt, but your food is outside- Ms Romanoff has offered to bring it to you-’

“I’ll go, FRIDAY, tell Nat not to bother” Y/N replies cheerily, ignoring Bucky’s offer to go instead.

He looks drained, he looks like the journey downstairs and back up might be a little too far, especially if the others are buzzing around.

Her suspicions are confirmed when he doesn’t fight her, when he lets her go without objecting or insisting on joining her.

It doesn’t take long, she does make a quick detour to the common room, where she presses a box of fries into Tony’s lap, pecking his hair and waving cheerily at the others before saying goodnight and bringing the rest of the food she’s carrying back to her new room.

Bucky’s waiting for her, almost exactly where she’d left him. His eyes are wide, hair a mess, and he’s drowning in gentle layers of fabric.

She grins at the sight, putting the pizza boxes and soda cans down on the coffee table, before curling up beside him, again.

They laugh at the dumb sit-com that’s running on the TV. They joke about the characters, and how they don’t act like anyone in the real world ever would.

They eat, Y/N teases Bucky about the smear of sauce that’s clinging to the corner of his mouth. She uses her thumb to wipe it away, and he kisses her knuckles, more affectionate than usual, which is saying a lot, considering he boarders on touch-starved at the best of times.

He’s delicate, it’s glaringly obvious, despite his attempts at hiding it behind surly, sarcastic commentary, and playful pecks at her cheek.

When she chuckles he’s fighting the urge to flinch, and he’s clinging to her fingers whenever she’s not using them to eat, and when he finishes his own pizza, she catches him looking at her, with wide, hopeful eyes.

She offers him what’s left of the one she’s been picking at, but he refuses with an expression that’s almost distressed, and she realises that he’s yearning for approval as opposed to any more food.

He’s trying.

“How’s your head?” Y/N coos, as he wonders back over to the couch, after having disposed of the empty cartons,

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, pressing against his skull to try and relieve some of the pressure that seems to only be increasing inside.

“Not great?” she guesses, voice deliberately tempered, as he crawls back into place beside her, “Let me see”

He looks at her curiously as she cups his cheeks in her hands.

His own palms fall away, back to the hem of his new jumper, he tugs at the material, watching at her openly as she starts to stroke his temples, nails barely grazing his hair line.

“Watcha’ doin, doll?” he asks, voice small and shy, “It feels good, it, it’s lovely-”

“Shhhh” Y/N hushes him gently, shifting one of her hands over, so she can run her thumb across his brow, “You’re really tense, sweetheart, try and relax a little”

“I’m… I’m sorry” he murmurs, letting out a frustrated breath as he tries to make his shoulders sag, “I’m not doin’ it on purpose”

“I know” Y/N soothes with a patient smile, “Don’t be sorry, Buck, it’s been a long few days”

It’s been a long few decades, he thinks sadly, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

She lightens her touch, caressing his cheeks, stroking the hollows under his eyes before tickling a line up across his jaw, to card back his hair. He keens into her fingers, almost purring in delight as she uses her knuckles to scratch at his head.

“Oh, god” he shivers, “Oh, god, Y/N/N”

It’s blissful, he can’t remember the last time someone just… touched him like this, just, gently, with no ulterior motive, without him having to earn it some how, or having to fear the consequences.

He supposes it will have been with Y/N, she indulges him often, she holds his hands, like they haven’t killed men double her size, she strokes his back when he can’t sleep, she kisses him, and lets him kiss her.

Still, almost a hundred years of solitary confinement, bar the occasional torture break, has left him desperately hungry for physical contact.

Skin on skin something he’ll never take for granted again.

There was a time, not so long ago, that he would have died (happily) or (not so happily) killed just for a moment of it.

Just for the most innocent, fleeting, brush of someone else’s skin against his own.

Hell, he’d have done just as much to have been allowed to feel his own hands against his body, and this, this is so much more than that.

His lower lip is trembelling, his eyes still wide and trained in on Y/N’s face. She can’t help but let one of her palms float down, to cup his jaw with her thumb sweeping across the pouting skin of his mouth.

“Hey” she purrs, “You doin’ okay?”

Finally, Bucky nods, tentative- afraid of discouraging the way she’s being so overt in her affection.

“Tired” he admits, voice cracking, “I- I’m tired”

Y/N hums in agreement, continuing to stroke his hair back,

“Where do you wanna settle?” she asks softly, “We can stay here… We can go to the bed… we can do whatever you want, handsome”

The bed looks inviting, but, he really, really doesn’t want to move.

“Can, can we stay here?” he asks, shyer than he’s been in a long time, “Please”

She beams at him, shifting a little so his head is settled in the dip of her lap, so one of her hands can loop across his chest, whilst the other stays against his brow.

He clutches the hand he can reach in his own, bringing it under the covers, so that he can play with her fingers.

“I- I- I- might” he gulps, “I- uh”

Her brows raise when he falls silent, letting out a frustrated breath and tensing his upper body involuntarily.

“I have nightmares”

That’s not new information. Y/N has spent enough nights with him to know about the terrors that plague him. She’s spent enough mornings trying to coax him out of his own head, to know, how violent his dreams can be.

She doesn’t remind him of that, though. She just nods considerately, before squeezing his palm.

“I’m stayin’ right here” he hears her promise, “nothin” she continues, “nobody, is goin’ to hurt you.”

The plates in his metal arm groan as he flexes his hand, bringing that one up to cup the one of hers that he’s already clutching to his chest.

“I.. I just, I should warn ya’-” he mumbles, “I- I’m worse, here- I-I-”

“You, are fine, sweetheart” she cuts in, “No matter what happens, okay? You’re goin’ to be just fine.”

“As long as I’ve got you” he murmurs, feeling her nails on his scalp again, “I- I don’t want to scare you off, Y/N/N- that's all”

Y/N lets out a laugh that’s almost silent, shaking her head as he looks up at her face.

“You’ve got me” she tells him, “I’m right here, I’m staying, right here, Bucky, I love you.”

He believes her. Despite the way he hates himself, despite the way that he can’t bring himself to consider that he might be worthy of Y/N’s affection, he believes that it’s genuine, and that if she really sees something in him that’s good, then maybe, just maybe, he’s on the right track after all.

“God, doll,” he whispers slowly, “I trust you- I, I really, I really trust you and, I- I know I tell ya’ often, but it- it still doesn’t seem like enough, I- I adore ya’…”

His words are so honest, so laced with heartfelt sincerity that Y/N feels herself blushing a little at his love-sick expression.

“Y’know-” she soothes, brushing a stray curl back away from his eyes, “-I think you might be the most beautiful man in the world”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes with a tightlipped smile that looks awfully boyish, even with the layer of thin stubble clinging to his jaw.

“and, for what it’s worth” he hears her drawl, “I adore ya’, too”

There’s a lilt of humour in her tone, but it’s gentle, it’s fond as opposed to mocking, and even though his cheeks once again fill with colour, he can’t help but think that it’s due to the way she’s still showering him in gentle touches instead of anything more humiliating.

A few seconds of quiet pass, Y/N could’ve been tricked into thinking that he’d fallen asleep, if he hadn’t flinched in place at a sudden burst of noise from the television that has been running all this time; the laugh track is glaring, she quiets it instantly, regretting the way the remote control is just far enough away for Bucky’s head to shift as she reaches for it.

“Sorry, handsome” she murmurs, sinking back into position with a sympathetic sigh, “Come on, get comfy, you’re alright.”

The nape of Bucky’s neck is aching now, too-

He shuts his eyes, rolling onto his side, so his cheek is nestled against into her thighs.

Y/N reaches down, stroking his arm as she pulls the blanket up higher towards his chest.

“Please, doll, don’t- don’t leave me here if I pass out”

Her heart cracks, she shakes her head, feeling his fingers tightening around her own, again.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere without you.”

He seems to like that, his shoulders unfurl a fraction, even though the tension he’s holding in his back pull them back together after a single, forced inhale.

Y/N lets her free hand trail down across his jaw, she rubs her thumb in a careful circle over his temple, seeing the way the muscle that’s visible seems to relax a little under the attention;

“Good?” she whispers, her own head finding a pillow, so she can settle too-

“So good” he murmurs, hoping that she’s not thinking about stopping.

“Good” she says decisively.

Now that she’s certain that she’s not adding to his discomfort, she readies herself to continue the rhythmic tracing of his face until he’s deep enough asleep to stay that way without it.

He grumbles a little, whispering complaints about the show that’s still running in the background, but refusing her offer of shutting it off. All in all, she’s pleasantly surprised with how easily he drifts off on her lap.

She stays awake for a few hours, watching television half-heartedly, and stroking his cheeks. Occasionally, she catches herself soothing the unconscious man with murmured terms of endearment; He seems to like it, even though she doubts he can actually hear her, with the way he’s snoring.

That makes her smile, him being deep enough asleep to snore.

Before long, Y/N is past out too, with one hand still clutching his under the covers, the other laced through his thick mess of hair.

He stirs a few times during the night, shifting a little to mewl in place against her front, body tensing and shaking until she reacts, until her fingers grazing his temples as she hushes out a calming breath to quiet him.

“Baby” she whispers, when she hears him whining into her chest, “Baby it’s alright”

Despite the fact that it’s late, that he’s been passed out for hours, by now, Bucky seems to hear her.

His shoulders unfurl, and as she blinks at him, ignoring the sleep clouding her vision, she’s almost certain that she catches him smiling.

“That’s it” she praises, unable to hold back, “sweetheart”

Her thumb grazes his cheek, drawing a shaky breath from his lungs.

“Y/N” the sleeping figure sighs, nuzzling into her collar-bone, “is…is everything alright?”

Bucky’s eyelids flicker as he teeters on the verge of waking fully, his voice is so quiet that Y/N has to strain to hear him;

“Yeah, baby” she’s quick to reply, “everythings’ alright, you’re restin’, you’re doin’ real good”

She shuffles, feeling the weight of him adjust too, his head staying firmly against her chest.

“l-love you” he murmurs, one of his hands releasing the one of hers that he’s been clinging too all night, so that it can float up to the hem of her shirt, where it tangles in the fabric, “can, can I keep this sweater?”

That exhaustion ridden question pulls a quiet, genuine laugh from her chest. She nods, kissing his hair and guiding his cheek up so that she can plant a kiss against the stubble.

He swoons at the tenderness of the gesture, he’s desperately grateful to be awake enough to feel the warm tickle of her lips against his face.

“Of course you can” she soothes, “You can keep everything, it’s yours, it’s for you”

It’s his.

The smile he dons is drowsy, his eyes are still shut, he’s still, mostly asleep, but he’s aware enough to keen out towards her voice, towards the gentle embrace she’s shrouding him in.

And just like that, he’s silent again.

Y/N follows suit, slipping back down into unconsciousness almost instantly.

Another few hours pass, the world outside spins from dusky grey to deep, starless black, and everything is peaceful, until Bucky next whimpers.

This time, the noise is strangled, it’s loud enough to rouse Y/N almost instantly, her eyes training in on him, and his parted lips as the source of the disturbance.

His body is shaking, the heavy, pliancy that had been filling him before, replaced with cramp-inducing stiffness.

She strokes his hair, again, repeating her earlier words of assurance.

When he wakes enough to feel her fingers, he shudders, before begging her not to stop, control waining at the soft tug against his brow.

“I won’t” she promises him gently, hating the way his words are cracking and so blatantly laced with desperation, “I’ll keep goin’, I’m right here”

He nods a little, metal fingers tugging anxiously at the hem of his new jumper.

It’s soft and he loves it.

He loves the idea of having things again, things that nobody can take from him.

He loves her.

He loves her more than any of it- suddenly, he’s reaching over to hold onto to her waist, smooth fabric totally forgotten.

“Sweet, sweet boy” Y/N murmurs indulgently, brushing his cheeks again, “what woke you up, huh?”

His brow furrows, teeth tugging at his lower lip until he lets out a nervous breath,

“I-I- was havin’ a bad dream” he admits, blinking up at her in the dark, “I was, I was on my own”

Y/N shakes her head, pecking at his brow.

“You’re with me” she reminds him softly, “You’re with me, and you are never, going to wake up on the floor alone, ever again.”

There’s something about time she’s spent sleeping with him tucked, safely in her arms that makes her words come easily, without hesitation.

Her mind is clouded, she’s being pulled back towards sleep with every deep inhale she’s managing to take, but still, she knows what she’s saying is true.

and so does Bucky.

He keens out in response to her promise, his hands tightening around her, his nose rubbing against the skin of her throat as a soft, muffled sob leaves his lips.

The idea of him being woken by some terrible nightmare, the idea of him coming round in a fit of panic, and throwing himself to the ground as he tries his best to remember where, or when he is, is suddenly even more sickening than it had been earlier, in day light, when the exact patch of floor he’d resigned himself to resting on had been plainly visible.

“Never” she repeats, voice melting into his hair, “never, I promise”

Blue eyes are on hers, they’re tired, they’re bloodshot and shining wet, in the dim light of the room.

“I…I’m sorry I upset you” he whispers, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean too”

Y/N feels her head tilt, she’s confused, and it shows.

“What are you talkin’ about?” she asks, stifling a yawn as she reaches over to tuck a stray curl back behind his ear, “you haven’t done anythin”

“Earlier” Bucky murmurs, “When… when I told you, when I told you where I- where I used to sleep, it- it upset you, I- I shouldn’t-”

His remorse is palpable. Y/N guides him in for a kiss, a proper kiss, against his lips, that makes his breathing slow.

“I wasn’t upset with you” she tells him firmly, breaking away enough to let him rest his brow on hers, “I was upset for you, Bucky, there’s a difference.”

Even in the dark, she can see the cogs turning in his mind. She smiles, and rubs her nose against his, treating him to another gentle kiss before cupping his jaw in her free hand.

He’s still clinging to the other one, he squeezes her palm and blinks slowly, looking over at the digital clock that’s being projected against the far wall.

It’s 4am. He’s usually wide awake by now. He’s usually coming round from some terrible dream, or trying to run around the compound’s track in a bid to burn off the remnants of adrenaline, and kill time until he can call Y/N, or join Sam or Steve to spar.

But now, he doesn’t have to worry about any of that, he’s draped in warm, soft, fabric that is so dense he can feel it despite the layer of brushed wool he’s wearing. He’s pressed, tightly against his lovers chest, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he could just…go back to sleep.

Y/N seems to be have been considering the time, too, and she seems to have come to a similar conclusion, regarding what she wants to do.

“Whadd’ya say, sweetheart” she coos, carding his thighs with her legs, boxing him in and drawing him back into position, “we’ve got nowhere we need to be until later, why don’t we get some more sleep?”

He smiles, tentative and hidden into her chest, before nodding, stubble grazing her skin-

“That sounds’ perfect” he whispers, half slurring

1 | 2 | x | 4 | 5 | 6

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #series #BBwhereyouleftme

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creampie-capital · 1 year

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║𝘝𝘪𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ CONTENT

Promiscuous Masterlist ━━━�� PROMISCUOUS

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately. Now onto the story :)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲

Jewels were arrayed on your head, the cold gold fitting the crown of your skull perfectly. Nephthys hummed in delight while placing a finger on her chin like she were in deep thought.

Those burning marigold orange eyes of hers flickered across every inch of your body, from the curve of your legs to the dips in your waist and then to your face. It was like cameras, picking apart your appearance in the most violating way possible.

Yet you still stand with your head held high.

"I don't like that headpiece. I need another to bring out your eyes." The goddess expresses outwards, yet it feels as though she were more so conversing with herself. Nodding her head at her words, she stood up to her towering height of 7ft (213 cm) and ventured over the cabinets in her chambers.

All those jewels and embellishments were weighing down on your limbs, slouching your back and neck. Your spine ache.

"Smile, little Nymph. You're the richest of them all dressed like that." Otto spoke within your mind, yawning lazily before resting its head on a plush pillow beneath its jackal body.

The other five had been kicked out of the deity's room for causing a ruckus and fighting over who could have your attention. Otto obviously had marched its way in, taking its place quietly to where it was not a bother.

You sneered, scrunching your nose and instinctively kicking the creature off the cushion with your foot. Your anger clouded your judgment, and before thinking about the consequences, you acted out first.

The scene was humorous; its flabbergasted expression that froze like ice, and its body rolling stiffly like a scared goat.

Nothing could compare to the joy brought about by the sight of that wicked ultimate creature rolling onto the carpet. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep in a peal of laughter.

Otto swiftly rocked back onto its stomach to launch up to its feet and bark at you. Nephthys seemed too preoccupied with her own matters, shaking her head and throwing expensive jewelry on a table by the cabinet to notice.

"Come on!" You threatened under your breath, bending down while raising your fist. "What are you gonna do!? Bite me!?"

It growled, the vibrations reverberating through your bones and provoking the hair on the back of your neck to stand upwards. "When the time comes of us unattended, you will learn your place."

A shiver crawled up your spine, though not quick and fluid, but tantalizingly slow and eerie. You can already imagine it reverting back to its hooded form, utilizing its tendrils in the most painful way possible.

Too bad it's not in the way that makes your mind dazed in delight.

"Ah! This one!" The giant woman rose to her full height while outstretching a beautifully decorated headpiece of gold and turquoise. Golden needles sprouted from the band like a halo, and a red gem fitted at the top.

Nephthys Smiled down at your face, her marigold irises scanning across the details before stepping back to create distance. "Yes, this will do when he visits you tonight in your chambers to consummate." She states while nodding.

You are sure she had witnessed your eyes enlarge. Visit you in your chambers? There's a clear implication here, and you are a bit confused about their culture.

"A-Ah, Nephthys-"

The goddess interjected by placing two delicate fingers along the bottom of your chin. Her touch is warm like the lick of a flame, ghostly and almost scary how warm it emanated on your skin. "Ibib, please. Call me, Mother."

For some reason, that word had not been translated into your head. You all are speaking Egyptian, or at least an older form of Coptic before the Arabians took over Egypt in the seventh century, but that one word remained in their native tongue.

Something you couldn't understand, and it had to mean something. You wonder what it meant.

Respiring deeply, you nodded before continuing your former question. "You say he will visit me in my chambers tonight, but we are not even married yet. Wouldn't it be sinful...?" How ironic that you were asking something so prude.

However, you cannot be the same little snake you usually are; you're here just to play a part. The creature brought you here to entertain, and entertain is what you must do.

But who said you couldn't have a little fun on the side?

That beautiful goddess in front of you stared blankly for a moment before releasing a bout of laughter. "Perhaps you were from a different provenance. But here, marriage starts the moment the wife walks through the door. There is no ceremony, no rite. It is a little different in this instance, but your marriage has already been decided the moment he weighed your heart."

How...simple.

"How boring," Otto uttered within your mind as its jackal figure released a yawn and resumed its spot on the cushion from earlier. "I would have enjoyed some form of dramatic recreation or scandal at a wedding ceremony. Does that resurrect a memory?"

If this giant goddess were not staring you in the eye, you would have kicked that damn creature off again until he rolled out of the room.

Nodding your head, Nephthys fingers on your chin migrated down your throat. She grazed over the thick veins in your neck before stalling at your collarbone. "You are to be the wife of Anubis. I had already decided the moment I-" Her speech ceases into a breathy exhale with her fingers now descending to your chest until she reaches where your beating organ rested beneath. "This...Your heart was something that I..."

The goddess of death, darkness, and many other relations appeared lost in her thought. Her eyes did not meet yours, staring at your chest as she murmured words that you could not make sense to herself.

From the moment you gained awareness after Anubis weighed your heart, Nephthys has acted in a questionable manner. You feel like like a doll that she's attempting to narrate.

"Do you think she could see your rotten core?" Otto questioned, and if you could see him, you're sure his canine snout was grinning. "Someone who sleeps with her sister's husband out of spite and jealousy surely would have a similar heart, yes?"

A well-known story, one that many are aware of. You even know a little about it yourself, feeling somewhat...sympathetic to her.

If your husband had embodied the necessary and creative element of violence and disorder within the ordered world, you'd want something far more deserving. She's a powerful goddess, an important one at that...you do not blame her for her actions.

Cautiously grabbing her hand and enclasping yours over her large fingers, you smile almost sheepishly as you tilt your head to the side. The weight of the headpiece had not proved any discomfort until now.

"I must thank you then, Mother. You have given me the chance to serve your son to the best of my abilities and blessed me with a loving mother who will take care of me."

Otto's jackal body abruptly snorted "To service his c*ck is what you imply."

You can feel the blood inside of your body begin to boil as you force your right eye not to twitch. 'Why don't you go back to your watch and not comment as if you're watching a Tv drama, you little sh*t?"

"No, I don't think I will."

He is so annoying!

Tightening her grip on your hand, The caramel-skinned goddess returned your smile and nodded. "He is very similar to my husband, but I believe that you are a force to be reckoned with. Now-" She released her grasp and kneeled down to fix the new clothes she had entrusted you with wearing. "You are all dressed and prepared. I shall walk you back to your chambers, and you will not have to wait for too long, Ibib."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Every since I was young, I liked that taste. That taste of superiority. It's addicting, sweet, and bitter at the same time." Your gaze danced across the therapist's ceiling as you lay on your back. "I cannot think of a moment when it first started; I just know that it was a constant need." The woman hummed, stare focused on her notebook as she scribbled along. "It didn't matter what it was; I just had to be better. I had to outdo everyone. I had to have control and authority over everything. I am my parent's daughter, after all." Chin-Sun peered up with her small monolid eyes, her gaze like a ray of the sun heating against your skin. "Childhood superiority complex is often a ruse and totally false. A superiority complex is actually rooted in profound insecurities. Someone with that complex is only hiding his or her insecurities with a brash and self-secure facade." Heavily respiring and turning onto your right side, you face the young woman while holding your head up against your palm. "Insecurity? That's interesting~." You wave down across your body. "Do I look insecure to you? As a child who had everything at her fingertips, do you think I was insecure before?" Locked in a stalemate, you and the therapist's eyes remained latched to one another. Your question is easy to answer; it should be. "What did you do? How did you do it?" "Do what?" "Act like you're better than everyone when really, you were most likely crying in your room silently." Groaning aloud, you sat up swiftly while crossing your dominant leg over the other. Your right eye is twitching, and the inside of your throat is tightening. "How much longer will you attempt to make me seem like some victim? I'm a narcissistic person; I'm entitled and egocentric. Nobody did anything to me, in fact-!" You stand upwards onto your heels to strut towards the therapist. Your height grows as you near, yet the young woman doesn't crack as you grasp the top of her chair and lean down. "Why don't you start interrogating all the people I've f*cked over, hmm?" The scent of your perfume envelopes the both of you as your nose just about touches. "I'm not a weak little girl, Chin-Sun. It just feels better to be the villain."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Ah, finally!" You collapsed on your bed, the small of your back aching from stretching it on a flat surface. "Those passageways are way too long." The soles of your feet sting slightly due to being on them for so long before you could eventually rest.

However, the night is still not over. Your facade may not crack, and you must please this god of death. Not much is known of him, and you are not aware of the type of man he is.

It's dangerous to come in acting the same way you did with Apollo. He might associate you as a harlot, though, from what little you remember, one's degree of sexual experience - or lack of any - was not thought a matter of consequence with the ancient Egyptians.

Everything depends on the type of man Anubis is and what weakness he holds for his d*ck.

"Thinking of him when you don't remember my forewarning?" Otto's voice prompts your eyes to flicker toward the side of the bed. It no longer strides in its jackal form, reverberating back into that massive hooded figure. "Little Nymph, do you take me as merciful?"

All hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and a sudden wave of dread rolled through your belly like crashing waves. The tips of your fingers are tingling with trepidation as though the blood flow is intercepted.

But then you think to yourself, what can he do when Anubis is minutes away from arriving?

Grinning presumptuously, you roll onto your right side to face the creature while holding up your weight with one arm. "Awe, are you still mad about earlier~? Surely an ultimate being like yourself wouldn't be so trivial over such meager matters?" Your voice is so arrogant, laced deeply with pretentiousness.

Otto's head tilts slightly to the right, and the bony left hand holding up its spiked staff vanished the rod in an instant.

You raised a brow in curiosity; however, your expression fell into an alarmed countenance when your body was dragged across the bed and pinned down beneath its towering figure. Nippy tendrils had wrapped around your wrist and ankles, holding such a firm grasp that you couldn't even fight it.

Struggling only provoked it to tighten, feeling as though it were close to pulverizing your bones.

"When pets act up and start to defy-" The tendrils abruptly yanked your body into the air to maneuver you into a new position. With the left side of your face smashed into the bed, arms pinned behind your back, and a** in the air. "-they need to be put in their place."

Like a little wh*re, your cl*t tingles for a second as you clench over nothing. You're scared and fearful, but f*ck...you want to get railed so bad.

"Oh, please~!" You have to suppress a giggle, yet you cannot subdue the shaking of your hips from side to side. "I'm nothing more than a desperate little human."

"I know." It's either because you've become so horny in an instant or the reverberations of his voice rattled through your bones, but he sounded so s*xy.

Another thick tendril grazed over your back, following your spine before enwrapping around your throat and tugging your head backward. You can feel the pressure against your larynx and compressing along your trachea.

A wave of delight floods your head like a cup of paint being spilled over to coat every inch of your brain. You think of nothing else; you cannot focus on anything other than the throbbing between your legs.

It drowns you in a hunger so vile and degrading.

"Just a little mortal, yet you see yourself as one that can challenge god..." His thin bony hands caress just beneath a** where it creases over. You're salivating, saliva pooling in your mouth as the anticipation begins driving you feral.

"Do you think I challenge you, my dear Otto~?" You cannot see him, and even though you haven't been permitted to see beneath his hood, you still desire to witness the glow of his palliative eyes.

The hands caressing your skin retract from their position for a second before one of his cold open palms descends harshly on your right bottom cheek. "You most undoubtedly love to defy."

A gasp is stuck in your throat due to its suddenness but also the painful pang that sent tingles down to your cl*t.

Heat envelopes you like a bubble, sweat already trickling down your back as most of the warmth emanates from your a**cheek.

Its open palm came down on the other side, slapping the (fatty/muscular) bottom to bestow an equally burning hit. "Ack~!" This time, a moan of pain and surprise expelled out from your lungs, choked by the thick grey tentacle wrapped around your throat like a necklace.

"Bad girls get disciplined and punished, do they not?"

You're shaking, your belly warm with eros and c*nt slick with desire. Unsatiable eros replaces blood to the point that if you were to bleed, an aphrodisiac gas would most likely leak from the wound.

"...Punish me..." Barely able to utter the words, you tug at the restraints holding your arms together behind your back. You burrow your chest into the soft silks beneath as the arch in your spine grows. "Another. I need it...I deserve it."

It hummed, and the vibrations that always rattle your bones had now stimulated the bundle of nerves barely covered by the cloth over your bottom. "Spoiled girl. Not everyone will give you want." The creature's hand comes down once more, the force and strength of its slap twice as strong as before. "Most certainly not I."

Stinging resonated across your skin, a burning sensation as though boiling lava were poured on your body. It hurt; it hurt like a pain you've never felt before.

But why did it feel just as good?

Thick opaque tears clouded your conjunctiva, threatening to spill over your bottom lids. A wetness pooled in the loincloth used as underwear, and you're damn sure Otto could smell it.

You hope its lungs are devouring it greedily; you hope it's intoxicating the creature like a drug.

"My favorite little Nymph..." It rumbles within your mind, provoking you to bite your bottom lip and grin. "Learn your place, mortal." Instead of slapping your a**, his hands drag under your skirt to grip the clothes and tear them off you with ease.

The ripping noise echoed within your chambers, leaving your entire bottom half bare save for a few torn fabrics stuck in the golden belly chain around your tummy.

Cool air spurs your body to jolt and c*nt clench of nothing inside. You want him...you want him so bad it hurts. That desperate ache due to being so empty for months is having that toll on you, and you absolutely will do anything for this monster to take advantage of your body.

"Does it not embarrass you to be so desperate?" The giant creature allowed a large hand to reach down to your bare bottom, caressing the thickness before digging the pads of its calloused fingertips into your warm flesh. "That you would let any man - thing - defile you in such a filthy indecent manner?"

Speaking to you that way, you're becoming more aroused than ever. That undivided attention, the cool touch of its coarse fingertips, was stimulating all the nerves beneath your skin.

"What is there to be embarrassed about?" You wheeze as the tendril around your throat tightens, and so do the ones around your wrist and ankles. "I want you..."

Otto was silent, almost scarily stagnant, with no movement. What did you do?

Though, it doesn't take long for you to feel its burning gaze raking over your backside. No one compares to its gaze, not the way it feels as literal hands stroking across your skin.

Your lips parted to speak, yet only a muffled groan escaped when his hands grasped both of your bottoms, spreading apart your cheeks so your c*nt lips could flare open.

Otto can see everything. The creature is viewing you at your most vulnerable, yet it only drives your need for the monster.

Liquids of arousal drip from your c*nt, cascading down your warm thighs and sticking to your skin.

Otto observed it, continuously smashing your a** together before pulling it apart to see the desperation of your wet hole clenching.

"A wretched, pitiful thing like you doesn't deserve me." His hands slowly retreat from your body. "You deserve nothing but torture and satisfaction."

A shiver ran up your bare spine, and dispositions of potential outcomes danced through your head. He says one thing but does another.

You didn't want to think about it, only rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to create friction and subdue that returning heartbeat in your cl*t.

Abruptly one of Otto's hands came down upon one of your bottom cheeks once again, his open hand producing full contact on your already sensitive skin.

"Ah~!" You wailed out audibly, the burning of the corner of your eyes growing with the tears breaking past the barrier and cascading down your face.

Your a** jiggled, your thighs rippling from the force as you push your bottom up unconsciously. Throbbing, stinging pain flushed through your nerves and spread down your bound legs.

"So let us see how long you can take it." Otto expresses, almost tenderly rubbing your burning a** before removing it so it was raised in the air.

You cry and fight against the restraints when his hand makes contact with your p*ssy, slapping the sensitive area with overwhelming force.

Again and again, It strikes downwards to batter pain and pleasure that surge through your bloodstream.

It doesn't stop, not even when you start uncontrollably sobbing. Nor when you're tugging and attempting to tear yourself free from its hold.

Your a** and c*nt is on fire, seething with heat that could boil water; you're sure of it. Sweat is collecting on the back of your knees, trickling down the side of your face.

Arousal continues to seep from your p*ssy, pathetically showcasing to this ultimate being that you are nothing but a degenerate.

He could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would just let him. It's how you have always been.

Otto's hand sprung backward to strike down on your body one more time, but a knock at the door stalled his movements.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Ok, we're going to take a deep breath and clear our mind-" "You just sent the cops to pick me up and throw me into your office, and now you want me to 'clear my mind'?" You interject while crossing your arms beneath your chest. Chin-Sun respires a heavy breath before opening her small eyes to look at you. Her shoulder-length dark hair sways in the wind as you both sit outside on her balcony. The sun is already beginning to set, painting the skies a beautiful mandarin orange with a deep ocean blue soaking downwards. "Well, you've skipped out on the last four sessions and refused to answer any of my calls, so I've had to result to drastic matters." The therapist states, sitting while embowing her back and twisting to release a few audible 'pops!' "I'm lenient and patient to a degree, but you always seem to push me past my tolerance level." You don't know whether to scowl or laugh, so you just sigh and lean back in the cushioned seat. No matter how hard you attempt to hide from this woman or insult her to the point where she refuses to see you anymore, it just isn't enough. She just won't let you go. "What more can we do, Chin-Sun? You ask me about my childhood; I tell you it's just fine, like any other kid. You drill me about my personality; it's already clear I care for no one but myself. We get it; I'm a horrible person. So what more?" Her dark optics hid behind her lids for a moment before she stood upwards. Her heels click against the marble as she lowers onto the seat by your side. You roll your eyes but move over slightly so her thighs do not touch yours. "I will not deny that many of your actions are cruel and malicious; no one but you decides to do them. However-" You raise a brow and turn to face the young woman. "-there is a lot more that you're not telling me. You cannot put me in the middle of a show and expect me to understand everything. We need to start from the beginning." You're feeling overwhelmed and exhausted by her constant attempts to pry your brain open; it's not making sense in your head. Why does she care so much? "I'm not some f*cking entertainment to fill your boring lonely days, you hag. I don't need to tell you sh*t." You scoff and stand to your feet. Enough was enough, and the constant probing questions were enough. Though, before you could exit her balcony, Chin-Sun's hand flings to grasp your wrist. Her grip is stronger than you expected, strong enough to keep you in place. "My, my, you really love to burst forth with insults when you're cornered, don't you?" She smiles, yet it feels wicked. "Running won't save you; it never has. Haven't you learned that enough as a child?" Your eyes enlarge, and you feel them practically bug out of their socket. "What are you-" "Let's not play anymore, (Y/n). I'm getting bored."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Oop

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Next Chapter ━━━➤║𝘈𝘤𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 signing out

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celestiall0tus · 5 months

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Court of Miracles - Chapter 4 - Whole New World

Beginning || Previous || Next

Dark haze fogged around the edges of Juleka’s vision. She heard the words of Anarka encouraging her to step back out into the cold. Bitter anger, cutting betrayal, and hopelessness tore through her when Anarka attempted to push her out. The haze thickened into a blood red fog that obstructed her vision. She heard words but couldn’t understand them. She just lashed out whatever felt right, and it felt so right.

Juleka enjoyed the venom that coursed through it. It was vile and bitter, but deliciously sweet. She fully indulged in it when the biting freeze consumed her. She fought to keep herself under control, but the strain had been too much. She felt her body change accompanied along with the tearing of clothes. She had collapsed and her vision faded to black.

Juleka’s eyes fluttered open. She blinked against the warm orange lights that surrounded her. She shifted on an uncomfortably soft mattress and set of pillows. She sat up and looked around. The room she was in was massive, about the size of the university lecture halls. The walls were dark oak and turquoise velvet halfway down to the floor, which was black marble. The room was decorated with lavish golden and deep mahogany furniture, beautiful art pieces of snakes, and lots of heat lamps. The bed itself was a king-sized monster with dozens of pillows, heavy fuzzy comforters, and squishy memory foam.

Juleka grunted as she struggled to maneuver off the bed to the floor. She froze seeing the turquoise pajamas she wore. She snarled and fought with them but was unable to remove them. She grumbled as she grabbed onto them and tore them to shreds. A sudden chill ran up her, but it was chased away by the heat lamps. She moved away from the lamps as she explored the rest of the room.

Juleka poked around and found a closet. She opened the door and stopped at the entrance at the insane size of her runway isle closet. The walls and cubbies were filled with black and turquoise garments, black shoes, and countless accessories. At the end was a small pedestal with mirrors on all sides surrounding it. She turned her lip up at the formal, rigid outfits, tasteless shoes, and sophisticated jewelry. She moved to leave when movement caught her eye. She turned as a dress moved from its hanger towards her.

Juleka took a step back as the garment hovered before her. It was a long-sleeved black dress with a split up the middle. The skirt trailed off in the back like tail. The dress sported a corset with bones lined along it like a ribcage. She looked at the back of the dress to see the bone pattern continue with the spine, pelvis, and snake tail. She reached out to touch it when it moved and magically adorned her body. She looked herself over in confusion and awe at the dress.

Juleka ran up to the pedestal and looked at herself. The dress fit her flawlessly, showing off the right curves and everything. She moved around a bit and didn’t feel the clothes, almost like it was part of her skin. She messed with the skirt a bit. She liked the split, but preferred if it was wider and more like a tail skirt with pants. More movement from the corner of her eyes as a pair of tight pants covered her legs and her skirt was altered to her desires. Her eyes widened, then she smirked.

“Could I get a nice pair of stiletto boots? Something dark and could hurt?”

Juleka watched as a pair of knee-high boots with tall stiletto heels adorned her feet. More ideas of small improvements to her outfit crossed her mind as she fussed with her hair. She watched as the minor adjustments were made. Rips on her pants, chains dangled on her boots and pants, her dress neckline adjusted to a halter with the long sleeves turned into short fingerless gloves with chains and buckles on them.

Juleka grinned as spiked, grungy jewelry adored her arms, hands, and neck. She looked closer in the mirror as black make-up was applied to her lips and eyes. She paused and looked closer at her irises to see they weren’t a red amber anymore, but a bright turquoise. She frowned and remembered Luka’s appearance. She moved her hair closer to the mirror to see her purple dye was fading to reveal a turquoise like Luka’s underneath.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Uh, um, contacts? Hair dye?”

“You won’t find either of those here,” a man said.

Juleka turned around to see a tall, wiry man dressed in funeral clothes with long black and turquoise hair tied back and bright turquoise eyes.

“Who are you?”

“I am Sass. A kwami.”

“What the hell is a kwami?”

“Well, what kind of answer would you like?”

Juleka considered. “A full explanation.”

“Very well. We are godlike creatures that embody abstract concepts. Myself and the rest of my kind are the result of a singular kwami that split himself apart to create us.”

“Ok. Then what am I doing in this place of what I assume is for gods?”

“It may have had something to do with your body shutting down and entering a hibernation state due to extreme cold. But these things happen to shifters like yourself.”

Juleka’s eyes widened. She leapt from the pedestal and strode towards Sass. “Do you know what’s going on with me? Do you know why I can suddenly transform into a snake woman monster thing?”

“Indeed. Your family, like many others, have been blessed by kwamis. See, long ago, the lone kwami wanted to mingle and co-exist with mortals, but couldn’t devise a way to do so without utter chaos. So, we improved on his attempts and instead blessed you mortals with powers. Of course, this was long ago with your ancient ancestors and the descendants today aren’t what they were back then.”

“What does that mean?”

“See, the power in the blood has been weakening. Over time through natural selection, poor mating partners, and a lack of connection with the base concepts. It has resulted in what the Court refers to as Lowborn and Midborn.”

Juleka furrowed her brow. “Court? Lowborn? Midborn? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Perhaps it’d be easier if I show you. Care to take a walk?”

“What are you going to show me?”

“The most pompous and ridiculous shit that I’m forced to endure. And, by unfortunate extension, so are you.”

Juleka raised a brow, then smiled. “Well, misery loves company.”

Sass laughed. “That it does. And perhaps we can have a little fun. It has been some time since I’ve been in the presence of a Snake such as yourself.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It means we have a fun, rare opportunity to scare the little shits and remind them not to fuck around with life.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Step back onto the pedestal there. We’re going to make some final alterations to your macabre outfit.”

Juleka grinned and hopped back onto the pedestal. She watched in the mirror as Sass uttered instructions. The choker was replaced with three bone chokers laid into the neckline. Her fingers covered up as a pair of bone panja bracelets appeared and ended in needle thin claws. Buckles lined her boots with platinum inlay at the base of them to the heels, and bones set in her boots. The bones in her dress and boots were bleached white before he changed his mind and had them changed to look unclean and decaying along with holes and torn pieces in her tail skirt. Touches of platinum were added to her eyeshadow and lipstick with a set of snake fang earrings and snake bite lip piercings added for a final touch.

“There we go. You’re ready.”

Juleka held her head high as she bounced over to the entrance to the closet. Sass followed and led her to the door. He shot her a reassuring glance before he opened the doors and they stepped out.

Juleka paused and marveled at the high arched ceilings with the bannisters a dull brass with matching pillars in the walls. She glanced around at the long hallway that had large double doors sparsely lined in them.

“What is this place?” Juleka asked.

“This is the personal quarters. It’s where heirs are given their own personal accommodations. This is for those within the ranks of, oh what was it? I think three to five. The top pair get a special wing all to themselves.”

“So, not everyone gets the same accommodations? Is that what I’m hearing.”

“Essentially. You fall into the higher end of them, but still under those of Reality, Imagination, Creation, and Destruction.”

Juleka grunted. Sass ushered her down the long corridor. She looked around at the different doors they passed by. One was a lavish gold with jewels inlaid on the green and blue door. Another was a simple door with gold moths around the door frame.

“Peacock and Moth?”

“Peacock and Butterfly. They are of Beauty and Transformation. And watch out for the Peacock. Flamboyant creature that’s been looking to procure a high tier harem. I’m also sure he’s fucked every heir in Court at least once.”

Juleka curled her lip. “And whatever your Court is allows this?”

“Sadly. However, it’s also in his nature. He is Highborn, so he shares a close connection with his concept and the animal. And peacocks are known for having multiple peahens as mates. To the Court, he is acting within his nature and dismiss him.”

“That’s awful. What if he, you know? What if that happens?”

Sass snickered. “There are certain precautions I have taken whenever I see a Highborn Peacock. I may not be able to prevent his nature, but I can stop the consequences.”

“Huh. Well, that’s something, I suppose.”

“Just no saying anything. No one knows I do these things.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Sass smiled as he continued down the hall. Juleka observed the opulence from the golden etchings in the metal walls to the wispy golden faerie fire lights that hovered overhead. This continued into the next area, that was a massive corridor that made her feel like she was in an airport. The brass of the previous corridor were traded out for fine marble in the walls and floors.

“Where the fuck are we to allow for this level of grandeur?” Juleka asked.

“No where and everywhere,” Sass commented.

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s a pocket space created long ago but modified through the ages to suit the comforts of the new heirs and heiresses.”

Juleka hummed as they continued their walk. Sass pointed out the other halls that lead to the other heirs’ chambers and sitting rooms until they came to a massive archway. Curiosity got the better of her as she trotted ahead of him into the new area.

Juleka gasped as she looked down from the balcony. The room below was enormous and reminded her of pictures of Grand Central Station with its design aside from two variations. There were several fleets of stairs that lead to massive oaken doors large enough to allow a dragon through. One of these flights of stairs lead up to an exquisite golden gilded door with pillars of faerie fire leading to it. The second was a large fountain sitting area in the middle of the room. She couldn’t make out the design of it but could see the water from it shifted between every shade of the rainbow.

“Marvelous, isn’t it?”

“It’s huge. Is this the Court you mentioned?”

“Just about. The stairs there leads to the courtroom.”

“Well, ok, but this entire place, realm, dimension, whatever, is this the Court?”

“Yes. Essentially, this is the main hub. You’ll see the most people in this area. The other large doors lead out into the rest of the realm. However, that access is only for Court members. Anyone who is not part or immediately related don’t gain access to the deeper sanctums. Even this area we’re in isn’t for the common rabble.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Well, being able to transform into a naga is one reason. Another is because your family are direct members of the Court.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since your twin was named the Snake heir. However, that may change today.”

“What? Fuck that! I don’t care what your ‘Court’ wants. I-.”

“It’s not for the Court to decide,” Sass interrupted.

“Oh. Then whose is it?”

“Someone you will meet very soon. Come. They’re waiting for us. And, like yourself, I want to get this over with.”

“Ok. Lead the way.”

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patheticbatman · 23 days

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I don’t do this super often, but when I was 13ish I spent hours thinking about Percy and Annabeth’s future house. Idk why. And I wrote out their magical house in an iPhone note. I updated it every so often for a couple years, but as an adult I leave it alone as a monument to my childhood and my OTP.

But I just saw a really cool themed house from that home tours blog (it was pirate themed!) and wanted to share my ‘home tour’.

Please keep in mind the following was written mostly in 2014 by a young teen who made some shit up. So some of it may not be canonly possible now/never was a thing

Percy and Annabeth's underwater cave house

Front entrance: dead tree on edge of Chase cliff. Whisper Jackson, and a slide that can take you up and down using antigravity and gravity leads to the house. You can notice tiny little jewels all over the house, enchanted for anti monster.

First level hallway: kitchen, dining room with conveyer belt leading between, gym, living room, bathroom. This is the second lowest level. The rest of the floors also have the slides to get there.

Kitchen has a large island, with lots of counters and cabinets. The walls are turquoise and everything else is chrome grey, like the fridge and such.

Dining room as a chandelier of rainbows, with a mini fountain that spurts any drink you ask for is in the middle of a ring table that could fit 16. If you give a coin, it can create an iris message. The table is silver grey wood while the wall is also turquoise.

The gym is just a mini work out area. Not decorated.

The living room is decorated with pictures of their friends. It has silvery gray walls, blue furniture, and a ten ft by ten ft tv. The dead tree actually has many minisatelites disguised as moss. They are enchanted to actually literally grow.

Third lowest level

Party room twelve guest rooms with their own bathrooms

,library.

Party room is just a blue room with food slide from the kitchen, some rables, and a disco ball with a wooden track around the large room for skating. Percy, with help from a friendly kid of Boreas, sometimes turn it into a winter wonderland in the summer.

Spare room 1

Frank n Hazels room usually, or will be when they start doing stuff. Green painted with gold furniture pretty much describes their rooms

Spare room 2

Will and nicos room usually. Black and silver furniture with gold walls

Spare room 3

Rachel's room Murals and a rainbow everywhere. Every surface is painted. Wicker/newspaper/hodgepodge furniture everywhere

Spare room 4

Piper and Jason's walls are red, and furniture is purple and pink. Actually looks nice and not too girly

Spare room 5

Calypso and Leo's room, done in red and oranges. Ps all the rooms had a small window like the ones in the hobbit

Spare room 6.

Hedge and Mellies room, with cradle. Everything is in light blues and dark greens

Spare room 7

Reyna's and future partner's room

Purple walls with gold and silver looking furniture, and 2 dog beds for aurum and argentum

The rest are kids rooms/ unplanned for when the guests have kids. They are plain. The last is a sort of playroom, with same size tv (everyone has a 2 by 3 tv in room)

Top level

Percabeth's room, future kids room(4), mrs. O'Leary's room, the offices, window room, carport, and percy and Annabeth's iwn offices

Future kids rooms are in pastel blue, yellow, green and orange

Mrs. O'Leary's room is giant, with lots of rubber yaks and other toys, and bowls filled with food and water always (they refill themselves). Done in red and silver. with special portal just for her and her owners to go out to Central Park.

Carport is just a garage that has a magical door that allows car to go through tree portel.

Lowest level

Garden and port and demigod Runaway shelter

Port is this giant cave, hidden by the mist to look like a cliff face that makes mortals just suddenly think about other things to do. It opens up to the sea, and they have this great boat called the sea owl, with eyes on the front. It also has a submarine, a small seaplane, and an elevator that goes to two portals to Olympus, and Atlantis. Has automatic spell where you have the small air bubble around you and your stuff. is painted on by enormous mural by Rachel.

Garden

Fruit trees that make all fruits (a rare tree called a cornucopia tree) lots of flowers and a gazebo. Painted and lighted to look like the outside that day. In middle there is a five-tiered fountain that sprays a rainbow. First level is made of Stygian iron, then celestial bronze, then Atlantean silver, imperial gold, and then heavenly steel that has a little dirt in it with a blue stemmed silver First Orchid. Has imported bees

Demigod safe base

A special Door that opens only to demigods and their helpers. and only let's demigods in leads you to the shelter. It has an ambrosia and nectar fountain, a water fountain that could turn to rainbows, free drachmas sent from the gods (only those in need can grab them), and ten beds with heated blankets. Small altar. Fridge full of ever re supplying food. Cabinet full of whatever medical stuff you need. Door that leads to Percabeth house, but only opens when you have permission.

#percabeth

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ritterintahlia · 15 days

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South Park Imagines/AUs 2:

1) Tweek and Craig are eating; Tweek takes two or three small bites out of every nugget and then lets it be. He is hungry after he goes through the whole plate but he’d rather starve than eat it all slowly. So Craig sits next to him, takes every half-eaten piece into his fingers and brings it to his boyfriend’s mouth. This makes Tweek concentrate on his lover, rather than the stress connected with eating. And he can lick Craig’s fingers! Craig may caress Tweek’s cheek every other nugget. Or just gently clean the crumbs off his face... (with @ani-tu)

2) There are two cool snowboarders at Zermatt: one in orange parka and black trousers, his black snowboard decorated with a skull; and one in a turquoise jacket and dark blue trousers, his board is plain black. They are stuff of legends in Zermatt... and they sometimes bring friends with them: one in a green jacket, one in a blue-and-red hat. It is not a secret, however, that the orange and the green ones are dating (and their friends are, too!) And DO I NEED TO SAY Kenny’s board is actually Butters’/Butters paid for it/gifted it to Kenny?

3) Snowboarders at Zermatt variation:

The Swiss police: “Mr Stotch, are you not any way nervous over the death of your... (look at each other) friend Kenneth McCormick?”

Butters: (laughs nervously for all the different reasons they would expect)

Kenny: (appears in bed next Butters as usual later that night)

4) When Butters grows up and is done studying, he plays for South Park ice hockey team. As goalkeeper, of course! (😘)

5) The older/more broken fem!Mysterion’s gets (the more death she has survived), the more painful gets her period. That leads both her and (fem!)Butters try and come with new pain treatments.

6) When Kenny dies as Mysterion, he doesn’t really die; he just goes to… hang out… with Professor Chaos. He also can choose where he reincarnates: his bed, a classroom, someone else’s room (with @ani-tu)

7) When he was a baby, Butters cried a lot. Linda holding him (him hearing her heartbeat) calmed him down somehow… but completely.

PS: as usual, thanks to @ani-tu 💕

#writing #therapeutic writing #south park #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #craig tucker #tweek tweak #tw: periods

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inthebamboogrove · 10 months

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Stray rain. Part 2.

Chapter 1 One day before…

By nightfall, the sky had cleared. The moonlight filled everything around with a phantom cold, mingling with the warm lights of electric lamps. Unlike the Lower District, it was quiet here. The royal palace and the mansions of the nobility most of all reminded of the greatness of the past. Members of the Warrior caste lived here. Green gardens and graceful arches, decorated with stone lace, seemed to be from another world, neither where low concrete houses and winding colorful streets crowded. This was the house of the hereditary vizier of Shindra, Mahendra Bagheera. The yellow electric light still burned in the narrow windows. Jaswant brought his horse to a halt and scanned the row of glowing windows with an attentive gaze. There is no light in the office, so Mr. Mahendra is already asleep. Handing over the reins to the servant who opened the wrought iron gate and asking him not to report his return, Jaswant moved silently towards the doors. The motley soft carpet in the hall, illuminated by moonlight, muffled his steps. At such a late hour, most of the inhabitants of the house were already asleep. What's what, but Jaswant will succeed in slipping unnoticed.

Returned, finally. - I heard a warm, slightly hoarse voice. At the foot of the stairs, Lord Mahendra stood with a lantern in his hand. He was waiting for him. “Mr. Mahendra.” Jaswant spoke softly in his low, unusually for his age, voice. -Late you today.- Answered the gentleman. Jaswant didn't say anything, but a small but genuinely happy smile appeared on his serious brown face.

This no longer young man was strong. Not tall, tightly built, it seemed that even in his best years he was not a warrior, but no one dared to doubt his power. His strength lay in the ability to predict, calculate and fight with the help of the mind. This is how the second person in the country should be. His orders were obeyed unquestioningly, while not feeling the slightest bit of fear or anxiety, a common tool of power. This made him a truly formidable adversary and a powerful ally. Nothing was hidden from the attentive gaze of his blue eyes, also noticeable among the swarthy Shindrians, but not half as unusual as Jaswant's bright turquoise eyes. The swarthy face with a pointed black beard was imperturbable, no one could know what the vizier would do, but no one dared to doubt him, feeling something that was rarely seen among those who ruled. Most of all it was like trust. And now Mahendra Bagheer, having waited for the young warrior, settled down on a soft sofa * near the crackling fireplace. Warm air drove away the winter night chill that made its way into the room through a stone balcony, on the other side of which impenetrable night thickened. -You shouldn't have stayed up late.- Jaswant said softly, taking a sip from his mug of hot coffee. After an endless day, a warm drink seemed like a breath of life to him. This habit was also inherited from the person next to whom he sat on the sofa, straightening his tired back. Only few people could be so close to him, but Jaswant was an exception, as in almost everything in life.

Again, you are on your own. - A barely noticeable smile appeared on Mahendra's face.

You have an important meeting tomorrow! - He turned to Mr. Jaswant. Mahendra continued to smile. It is impossible to neglect health at this age! -I don’t have one.- Mahendra replied, placing his mug on the carved wooden arm of the sofa. -Prince Gadavi… -Yes, I will have to send you on a mission again.-A warm orange light reflected on his calm face. Jaswant didn't answer, continuing to stare at his tired master. Golden reflections glided in his strange light eyes. A gust of wind stirred the flames of the fireplace, filling the room with the chill of the night. -I don't… -Wait.- interrupted his master. – The meeting with Prince Gadevi will be tomorrow, so tomorrow you will think about it. Jaswant didn't answer, looking down at the rest of the coffee in his cup as if trying to see the solution in them. He strangely felt that the struggle for the throne was taking a new turn. And his master will be in the center of the battle. Again… -I told you, tomorrow you will think about it.- Mahendra repeated. -Is it true that Prince Rajendra made an alliance with Pars?-Jaswant finally asked his question. He had heard it mentioned and was almost certain that it was. Lord Mahendra closed his eyes and nodded. Oddly enough, Jaswant felt nothing when his suspicions were confirmed. Maybe because he knew it? Of course, the First and Second Prince started their fight again. So the brief silence is over. For some time they sat in silence, peering into the crackling flame, but it was not able to drive away the cold that squeezed the heart. The cold had nothing to do with the winter wind howling through the carved balcony railings. Despite this, Jaswant became calmer. Just sit like this at home… -Very soon, all this will begin.- The owner broke the silence. -I'll do my best.- Jaswant replied in a slightly hoarse voice.

-Don't worry, Jas. Calm down. - Only one person called him like that and looked into his strange light turquoise eyes. Jas nodded almost imperceptibly, a barely perceptible smile appeared on his calm, swarthy face. Words were not needed here. Everyone thought about their own. Jaswant sat motionless, staring into the crackling flames. This is where the silence ended. Now, he must serve his master worthily. Jaswant was more than just a warrior. He was a spy. At twenty-two, he was not a serious opponent because of strength. Fast and light, he could get anywhere, learn anything, and disappear without a trace. He was the weightless shadow of a black panther. Flexibility and dexterity were his main weapons. He dodged and attacked, barely touching the ground with his feet. His name was the Black Leopard, not a strong beast, but fighting to the last. Soon he would again have to bare his claws and bare his fangs. To protect one person… and that person was not Prince Gadevi, before whom he kneels, but the one who always waits for him at home.

***

The sky was clear today. The warm rays of the sun cast bizarre patterns on the motley carpet, passing through the carved lattices of the arched windows. Time seemed to stand still here. The Uraiur Palace has hardly changed since antiquity. The variegated patterns that curled along the stone walls did not fade, as did the heavy folds of the curtains tied with gold threads. Graceful columns, tapering upwards, with richly decorated capitals * in the form of flowers, rested against a high ceiling. The floor was paved with granite slabs, and somewhere in the depths of the garden, marble fountains were noisy, which worked here even in winter. Winding paths made of gray granite led to openwork white stone arbors, casting lacy shadows. Ornaments inlaid with azure and jasper curled along the walls of the corridors leading to spacious halls, each corner of which could be seen bronze vases, without colorful exquisite bouquets. This winter, even Shindra could not boast of the abundance of flowers. There were carved benches all around, brightly patterned sofas, stone floors covered with carpets as multi-coloured as everything here. In the cool air, one could catch a barely noticeable aroma of incense, which was saturated with everything around. The only thing that pointed to the present time was the radio message system located in the guard barracks. The lighting was also not electric. This palace seemed to be closed off from the outside world, remaining the same as it had been thousands of years ago. The heavy smooth fabric did not protect from the cold, but Lord Mahendra's back remained straight. The vizier's traditional light green attire gave him an ancient grandeur. A light beige cape falling over one shoulder, adorned with tassels and silver buttons, has hardly changed since ancient times. The ears were adorned with thin gold rings, and the cold fingers were wide rings. The Shindris paid great attention to traditions, especially to know that they had hardly changed since ancient times. Jas walked a little behind. A tight, long, dark blue caftan with a silver clasp almost did not hinder his smooth movements, but he was still more comfortable in simple clothes. The long end of a simple bandage-turban descended on the straightened back, the ears were decorated with golden rings, the same as those of Mr. Mahendra. Outwardly, he could be mistaken for a young servant of the vizier, but this was hardly the case.

***

They walked along a narrow corridor from which one could admire the inner garden. Two servants working in the flower beds, seeing the vizier, quit their job and froze in a respectful bow. Mahendra answered them with a nod of his head, he never ignored a greeting, be it an official or a resident of the Lower District. It was for this that he was respected more than for his great status. Their eyes flickered somewhere through Jaswant for a moment. Everyone has long been accustomed to seeing an unknown orphan next to the second person in the country; over time, such an exception began to be treated simply as a whim of this powerful person. Jas is used to it. He didn't care. -Prince Gadevi received bad news. - Mr. Mahendra was the first to break the silence. -I understand.” Jaswant replied calmly, narrowing his light turquoise eyes slightly. -He'll be furious.- Mahendra continued, looking ahead.- Let's hope he doesn't break loose. Both knew well that the First Prince, who was their lord, often fell into such a state when something did not go according to his plan. Jaswant didn't answer, only took a deep breath. Most of all, he wanted this meeting to end as soon as possible. As Lord Mahendra had predicted, the First Prince was furious when he received the latest news.

Incredible! That traitor Rajendra has allied himself with the Parsi!” Prince Gadevi's voice rose to a hoarse in anger. -I understand, prince, this is not good news, but it is too early to give in to despair.- Lord Mahendra, standing opposite his master, replied. First Prince of Shindra, Gadevi. He stood for a while, clenching his fists tightly, then slowly lowered himself onto the carved sofa, exhaling deeply as if trying to calm himself. The golden brown face with fine features was tense. His brows drew together at the bony bridge of his nose, his too-sharp nose made his face even more haughty, as did his narrow, almond-shaped eyes of dark amethyst, framed by arrows of eyelashes. Thin lips often curved into a scornful smile. He was dressed in a long white caftan with a patterned sash, the calm colors of the First Prince's robes emphasizing his refinement, which was confused with arrogance. The lean prince had little resemblance to a warrior, but possessed an army more imposing than that of his rival and younger brother, the Second Prince of Shindra, Rajendra. -You're right…- Prince Gadevi almost whispered, covering his face with his palm and looking ahead through his fingers. An unkind gleam appeared in the amethyst eyes. “Now Pars is more vulnerable than ever. His king is in captivity, it is not known whether he is alive or not, and the army is ruled by a green brat! Jaswant, standing a little way off, listened to every word. He was almost a shadow, usually Lord Mahendra spoke to the prince. The Prince rose to his feet again, the light shining on the wide gold necklace that lay across his chest. -Then what… what should be done…?- He seemed to have forgotten about the presence of Mahendra and Jaswant. The news brought him into real anxiety, which, if the outcome was bad, turned into fits of rage. When this happened, almost everyone fell under his arm, and often Jaswant, if he was nearby. -They will try to conquer Gujarat.- Mahendra said calmly, slightly narrowing his blue eyes. The more nervous the prince became, the calmer the vizier seemed to look. -Of course they will! The city of Gujarat was very important. Rajendra tried more than once to lure his ruler to his side. It looks like it needs to be done now, since the alliance is targeting him. If he takes this city, Rajendra's chances of winning will increase dramatically. Gadevi stopped walking back and forth and sank down on the sofa again. -Don't worry, Your Highness, I will send the most reliable person to Rajendra's army.- Mr. Mahendra looked up. A faint smile appeared on his calm face.

Jaswant, who had been a frozen shadow all this time, turned his gaze to his master.

-Reliable, huh? - For a moment, Gadevi's amethyst eyes met with light turquoise ones, which immediately lowered. They were not allowed to look the master in the eyes. A bad premonition burned the back of his head, but not a single muscle trembled on his calm, swarthy face. -I assure you…- Mr. Mahendra began, also feeling this anxiety.

-I really hope that he will fulfill his task. - Gadevi's voice was icy and clear, each word squeezed the back of his head with this foreboding even more strongly. Jaswant froze, looking down, studying the dull gold side of the elephant statue that stood beside the sofa. More than anything, he wanted to get out of here. It was anything but fear. Just. Together with Mr. Mahendra. Leave. From here. This feeling was unbearable.

-Don't let me down. - Still the same icy voice. Now Gadevy looked relaxed, leaning on the carved back, crossing his legs. -Of course.- Both of them bowed their heads in respect. Now they finally had the right to leave this hall and be as far away from this person as possible.

***

-You knew everything. -I was almost certain that I would be sent to the Rajendra army.-Jas replied. They walked along a narrow corridor, on one side, framed by a row of white stone clones, beyond which the royal garden began. This time of year is dim and dark. -If you think about it, you are the only one who can fulfill it.-The lord said. His face was impassive, and his gaze was attentive. Even his slightly hoarse voice did not betray what he felt. But this was not necessary. -I know.- Jas sighed in his clear low voice, making him look older than he was. Now they walked in silence. Side by side. They didn't need words. An unprecedented silence reigned around. Like a great stone palace died out. On the way they met only a few servants. Mentally, Jaswant was already trying to build options for the plan, based on what he knew. If he has to sneak into the army of Rajendra, then he will also be sent to the Parsi … And it is completely unknown how this will end … All his life Jaswant tried to become stronger. When he was a child, he often heard the joke that the grand vizier brought home a wild black leopard cub. For as long as he could remember, he had always lived in the vizier's house, in the Upper District, without needing anything. Neither he nor anyone else knew who his parents were, or at least no one thought it necessary to tell him about it. Over time, people got used to such an exception to the established order. Jaswant had known the First and Second Princes since childhood, when they had to study and train together. He was younger than them by two years, even then it was clear that in battle his main weapon would not be strength, but dexterity. Quick reaction and flexibility often helped him to defeat the enemy. Time passed and the wild cub of the black leopard turned into a strong and faithful beast , releasing its claws and baring its fangs for the sake of a single person.

***

The evening is about to fade into cold twilight. It wasn't like that, but no one cared before. The narrow streets of the Lower District were noisy, their movement did not stop for a minute, they twisted and ended in dead ends, framed by houses no more than five stories high, either standing close to each other, or leaning on top of each other, like concrete blocks on an abandoned construction site, sharply decorated with architectural frills. In some places there were bright spots of carpets and fabrics, the contrast of which hurt the eyes. The Shindriytsy did not like gray and tried their best to color everything around before it faded and became as unattractive as everything around. The people who lived here were a reflection of what surrounded them. The Lower Region was inhabited mainly by those who belonged to the Merchant caste, on its outskirts, the Untouchables and Draws lived in the slums. The latter included the lowest representatives of society, as well as inter-caste children, who could not be attributed to any segment of the population. The orphan Jaswant Bagheer could also belong to the Draws. In the eyes of those around him, he was. But it wasn't. This was changed by Mahendra Bagheer. These people continued to live as if nothing had happened, trying not to notice what was happening around, so colorful and so gray.

You heard, they say Prince Rajendra allied with the Parsi. - There were almost no people in a small cafe. It was mostly tired workers, shopkeepers who came to chat with friends. There were almost always drawn out, iridescent songs playing through the static on the radio, but now it was silent. People were much more interested in what the Second Prince, whom they valued so much, would do.

Of course. - I heard another hoarse voice. - And what remains for him? Prince Gadevi has a great army… try to deal with him.

The silence was broken by the deafening clatter of a glass tumbler, swung across a scraped wooden table. Jaswant lowered his head, peering into the thick darkness outside the window. Through the ghostly reflection of his face, one could make out the orange lights of street lamps illuminating the street. The smell of the warm food that was being prepared here was maddening and made the insides twitch disgustingly, but Jaswant tried to ignore it, sitting at a table by the window and listening to the conversations about politics. This is where the task began. Before leaving to join Rajendra's army, Jaswant decided to wander around the city, listening to what the people were saying. Here one could hear the information of the warriors of Parsa, recognize their voices. No one paid attention to the simply dressed guy sitting by the window, peering out into the street on the other side of the glass. “Will Parsa help Rajendra?” the owner of the cafe croaked, wrapping himself in a warm jacket. Here, national clothes, like a turban bandage, calmly coexisted with jeans and jackets, unlike the isolated Upper District, this part of the city lived in the present. Today was unusually cold for their country. The ground hardened, and steam escaped from breathing. The only source of heat was a heater, around which, for the most part, people settled. Glass rattled from a sharp gust of wind.

-Wow, it's cold! -We haven't had this in a long time… Jaswant clasped his frozen hands together as he waited for someone to say something sensible. Something told him to stay.

The Parsians feel good, they are used to the cold. - They returned to the old topic again. Amazing.

By the way, turn on the radio, what's on the news? The owner of the cafe went up to the old radio, standing on the windowsill, and began to twist the knobs. There was a wheezing and a piercing howl of interference.

-… Prince Glad … that … - All drowned out the noise.

Work, let's go! - In impatience, the owner of the cafe hit the plastic case with his fist. The radio responded with a sharp whine that made his teeth clench.

-Quiet, grandfather Ramu! - The visitors crowded at the windowsill tried to calm him down. Jaswant remained where he was, looking at them with indifferent gaze of bright eyes. No, he came here in vain, he just spent his time admiring this "circus". He was about to rise to his feet when the noise and squeak of interference, interspersed with cursing, subsided and complete silence reigned. Everyone listened.

“And now I give the floor to my partner and comrade, Prince Arslan.” Rajendra's sonorous cheerful voice was heard. He was always so playful and funny. A murmur of approval went through the circle of people. They loved Rajendra, he did a lot for the people, and all these people hoped that he would be the next king after all. “Your Highness, what made you come to the aid of Prince Rajendra?” The reporter asked his question. “I think that Prince Rajendra will be able to become a strong king in the future. I would like to have him as an ally, not an adversary.” The voice of the Prince of Parsa was heard. Hearing him, Jaswant raised his head to look at the crowd gathered around the radio. First display of emotion since he's been here. This voice in the rustle of interference was quite childish, sonorous, but calm. Child… Parsa is ruled by a child… “But Your Highness, Prince Rajendra attacked you in Peshawar. Unusual beginning of cooperation, don't you think?

You can’t argue with that … - Carefree notes were heard in this childish voice. Jaswant narrowed his eyes. What it is? He had heard, of course, that Prince Arslan was young, but the voice that now sounded on the news aroused a strange feeling in him. Most of all, it was like irony, bordering on disgust. The boy is now with Rajendra… of course, the Second Prince knows how to win over people. Children, even more so.

-On the battlefield, we faced him as opponents. - Continued the Prince of Parsa - This short battle showed him as a desperate and courageous commander. Another murmur of approval passed through the crowd. -Haha, you flatter me, Prince Arslan…- The laughter of the Second Prince was heard in the background. Jaswant clenched his fists in annoyance. Certainly. How else… -Not quite, Prince Rajendra.-The Parsi continued. -In fact, I am glad to cooperate with you and I really hope that in the future it will benefit both my people and yours. -So, the Alliance of the Second Prince Rajendra and the Prince of Parsa, Arslan, seems to promise new turns in the political game. What will it bring? We'll find out in the next issue. That's all the news so far… Jaswant got up from his seat and was already moving towards the exit, but stopped, listening.

-How cold … it has not been like this for a long time … -Yes. It's so cold that nothing grows… it might even snow. -Snow? -They say that when the Devastation began, it was also snowing…it was very cold. Then more starfalls could be seen. Jaswant left, closing the door. Destruction … nonsense. And yet, he did not come here in vain. Learned about the army of Pars. And Prince Arslan is just a stupid boy. His country is in a desperate situation, so you have to be its commander and ruler. Such a child must be stupid. Jaswant walked silently through the narrow streets. Usually it was busy here, but now the concrete walls of the houses seemed dead and only the light in the narrow windows said that someone lived here. And cold. It seemed that he forced all living things to hide in the warmest corners of their lives and forget about trying to go outside. And not a breeze. Cold. Just quiet and cold. Hands started to get cold. With each exhalation, a cloud of steam escaped. Every sound in that frozen silence seemed deafening and alien. The sky above, lined with an endless interweaving of pipes, bridges and passages, was incredibly clear. Only the stars twinkled with ice dust somewhere in the sky.

Turning into a narrow gap between the houses, Jaswant carefully made his way to the stairs. He knew how to take a shortcut to the outskirts of the city, where his horse was waiting for him. The one who got hurt in training. For a moment it was completely dark. I had to move sideways, carefully stepping over the debris. There must be a ladder here somewhere… A foot thudded against the stone. Here she is! Carefully, checking each step, Jaswant climbed to the top. The world was once again illuminated by the cold light of the stars and the faint yellow lights of the streets now flickering below. All. Now you can add speed. Thoughts of the enemy army haunted him. It was ruled by such a young prince… Jaswant was certain that this one had simply succumbed to the Second Prince's charms, which happened often. And the voice … as if a simple child was picked up from the street … neither harshness nor firmness. Although … how can it be at that age? This gave Jaswant strange feelings, most of all they were a mixture of disgust and some strange pity. Shindrian intrigues will simply tear the boy apart like hungry jackals. He really came here… One light leap was enough for Jaswant to cross another narrow gap between the houses. With a quick, smooth step, he crossed the flat concrete roof, which ended with a high curb, beyond which the impenetrable darkness began again. The old tiling creaked dully as a light shadow jumped down on it, like a cat, landing on all four limbs, and in a moment it slithered away, into the narrow space between the walls. Stones, broken concrete, and dry leaves crunched underfoot. Heart was pounding like crazy. Jaswant's intuition told him that this assignment would be the turning point in an endless power struggle in which he had a role to play. You can't go wrong… the city of Gujarat will be taken - Rajendra will have a chance to win. If Gadevi loses, misfortune will happen to Mr. Mahendra. The consciousness of this drove him forward, squeezing his heart, every nerve. He must fight. One. Jaswant didn't even feel fear…he couldn't afford it. Everything changed so suddenly, it seemed, the whole world. Alien army… boy ruler… even this prickly cold… what's going on? Pushing off a narrow concrete lintel, the Panther flew up onto a bridge that lay between two rooftops. Nothing was heard. Even the wind. Somewhere below, a dog barked… the cold air seemed to become brittle, breaking at every sound. Jaswant tossed his head, exhaling a cloud of steam. All around was an inaccessible sky and nothing else. Everything has changed unbearably, no… the unimaginable changes did not end there. Jas couldn't take his eyes off the sky glittering with a scattering of stars… Weightless white flakes swirled in the frozen air, gently touching his face and descending on the frozen concrete world. My heart sank in anticipation of something unknown. It really snowed…

***

-Look, Daryun , snow!-The young prince pushed back the canopy of the tent, looking at how the stone wasteland was covered with a cold white blanket. -I didn't think I'd ever see him here in Shindra. -This is a very rare sight, Your Highness.-A tall warrior wrapped in a black cloak responded. The camp of the Parsian army halted in the Stone Waste. There was nothing here, only the distance graying from the falling snow. Prince Arslan was incredibly happy that this performance was over. He carefully weighed and chose every word. One mistake, one wrong look, even a sigh, and it would backfire on him. But everything seems to have gone well. He carried himself with a calm, polite manner, as Narsas, their strategist and longtime friend of Daryun, had taught him. It was especially difficult to keep calm when Prince Rajendra was nearby, as if on purpose, as if listening to every word. Next to this loudly laughing man, he felt uneasy. But he managed, most likely … At fourteen, Prince Arslan of Pars had already experienced what it was like to be at the center of a fight, not just a political one. Most recently, he was thrown into this bloody whirlwind in the fields of Anthropotena, to fight against the army of Lusitania. Then he understood what death and betrayal meant. His comrades, with whom he trained in anticipation of this day, died. Boys the same age as him. Quite recently, they were nearby, but now they are gone… just as there is no house… and the throne… all that where Prince Arslan used to live is gone. They were betrayed… and betrayed by someone Arslan would never doubt. The brave and devoted Marzban Kharlan, who served his father… King Andragoras III. The young prince still remembered how weak, bloodied and helpless, he sat on the grass by the body of his friend, no longer able to call for help. Before that, he screamed desperately, screamed hoarsely, called … anyone he could remember … The faithful knight Daryun , his father … even the hunting falcon Azrael, who was his favorite. But around there was only a cold purple fog in which screams, knocking, crackling flames were heard … There was no end to this … Only Daryun saved him. Helpless, surrendered, ceasing to realize anything … And now he is here. In the lands of Shindra. Fighting for an alliance that could possibly bring peace again. Prince Arslan went through a lot and he was not as simple as it seemed at first glance. Thin and not tall, he did not look like a mighty ruler, or promising to become one in the future. The delicate features of the face were good-natured, and the look of the big eyes, sapphire color, was warm, but instead of the former openness, one could see in them a shadow of anxiety and wariness. It was not a childish look at all. Now, having gathered not such a large army, he alone took responsibility for his country, became its hope … He could not back down, had no right to make a mistake … The prince lowered his pale face and silver-white strands fell over his shoulders. Yes, the hair of this very young, but already adult prince was white as snow, which now inaudibly covered the wastelands on the other side of the canopy of the tent. -You should rest, Your Highness.-There was warmth in Daryun's deep voice.

-I know. - Arslan answered, pressing his back against the rolled canopy. - But can I still look at the snow? He calms me down. A faint smile appeared on the golden-brown face of the warrior of Pars. Tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, he was a formidable opponent in battle, but now there was warmth in his bright golden eyes. Unusually arched eyebrows gave his face a wary expression, smooth blue-black hair, gathered at the back of his head in a ponytail, lay on a powerful shoulder. A slight gust of wind stirred the thin, unruly strands that always fell on his forehead. It's cold… Why is it so cold in this country in winter now?! What a strange winter… But what could be called normal in their world now? He turned upside down and the snow in the country of "eternal summer" no longer seemed so unusual … -Daryun.- Arslan suddenly broke the silence, wrapping himself more tightly in the warm blanket with which he was covered. His voice was hoarse with fatigue. “For some reason, I have a good feeling.

-Premonition? - The warrior turned to his master, looking at him with a look of bright, yellow eyes. Arslan nodded. -It seems to me that everything is fine.-The prince almost whispered. -I can’t think about the bad now. -Is that so…-The golden eyes narrowed slightly. -I'm glad, but you need to rest. The prince continued to peer into the dark inaccessible sky, at the veil that was quietly covering everything around. Somewhere on the outskirts of the largest city in this country, a Shindrien with bright eyes was looking at the same slowly falling snow. The struggle for the throne is already taking a new turn, in which these two have been drawn. Nothing will ever be the same again.

End of chapter

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #daryun #arslan #Arslan senki fanfiction #Stray rain

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simmillercc · 1 year

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SIMS 4 - BACK IN BLACK RUGS - 16 PATTERNS - 12 COLOURS EACH - BASE GAME - FREE

I started out making these rugs solely in black, but that is never the way with me. 🤣

What I've ended up with is 12 colours, including the black, and 16 rugs. They are separated by colour, and each colour has its own post, linked below.

They cost 250 Simoleons in game, and provide a happiness value of +2, so your sims are going to love them!

TAGS:

BY COLOUR

DECORATIVE: RUG

ROOM: ALL EXCEPT OUTDOORS

FUNCTION: TALK TO OBJECTS (INSANE)

VENUE: ARTS CENTER, BAR, CAFE, CHALET, CLUB, KARAOKE, LIBRARY, LOUNGE, MUSEUM, PENTHOUSE, RESTAURANT, RETAIL, LABORATORY, VET, UNIVERSITY HOUSING, AND THRIFT STORE

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

I hope you love them! 😊💕

Clicking the links below will open a new tab and arrives at the Images for each post.

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

Back in Black Rugs

Blue is the New Black Rugs

Brown is the New Black Rugs

Gold is the New Black Rugs

Green is the New Black Rugs

Mint is the New Black Rugs

Orange is the New Black Rugs

Pink is the New Black Rugs

Purple is the New Black Rugs

Red is the New Black Rugs

Sky Blue is the New Black Rugs

Turquoise is the New Black Rugs

#ts4 rugs #sims 4 rugs #ts4 decor #sims 4 decor #ts4 buy #sims 4 buy #ts4 cc #sims 4 cc #curseforge #simblr

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munchcorner · 1 year

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It was a hot summer night, and Oikawa had just finished all his duties as king. He sluggishly dragged his feet towards the secret door that led to his and Iwaizumi's haven. Oikawa was tired from doing politics all day, and his buttocks were sore from sitting in the throne room reading letters sent by his people and the other kingdoms. His hands were tired from the endless writing of responses, requests, and greetings sent to his subject, merchants, and the neighboring kingdoms. But what bothers Oikawa the most is the painful throbbing of his head. Using his brain all day used up all his energy, and the only thing he wants to do is go to sleep. But here he is, walking down the dark narrow stairway that led to his and Iwaizumi's hidden garden. Oikawa placed his hand on the knob, twisted it, and opened the door to their garden. The warm summer breeze hit Oikawa, and he found himself relaxing when the warm breeze brushed against his skin.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi agreed to meet in their garden after the sun had finally vanished and the stars started to decorate the sky. Today, however, Oikawa finished his duties a little earlier and decided to descend into their garden before their agreed meeting. The sky is still beautifully painted a mixture of yellow and orange and in the far corner of the garden where the assortment of blue, pink, red, light and dark purple hydrangeas, Iwaizumi was crouched down with gardening tools sitting beside him. Iwaizumi wasn't wearing his armor. Instead, he was wearing a plain loose black tunic with a dark brown belt embellished with Seijoh's symbolic turquoise castle hugging his waist. Oikawa admired Iwaizumi's broad shoulders, he could see Iwaizumi's back muscle-flexing through the thin fabric of Iwaizumi's tunic, and he loves it. The light coming from the setting sun was enough to make the sweat on Iwaizumi's tanned neck glisten, and it just made Oikawa wonder what Iwaizumi was doing to make him sweat.

Oikawa quietly moved his feet towards Iwaizumi. It seems that the latter was too pre-occupied with what he was doing that he didn't hear Oikawa walking towards him. Oikawa's lips curved into a smile as he suddenly draped his upper body on Iwaizumi, arms lazily hanging on the Earl's shoulder, making the latter stumble forward from the sudden weight on his back. Iwaizumi turned to his side when he felt Oikawa's chin rest on his left shoulder.

"What are you doing here, Trashykawa?" Iwaizumi asked, his hot breath brushing against Oikawa's face. Their faces were close but not close enough to have the tip of their nose touch.

"I was just wondering about what's keeping you busy," Oikawa answered and looked towards what Iwaizumi was working on. He could see a small mountain of dirt on the ground, but he couldn't see anything that would indicate what he planted. Oikawa pouted and squinted his eyes at the gathered dirt, trying to guess what Iwaizumi planted.

"Stop that and get off me, I'm covered in sweat," Iwaizumi said and moved his shoulders back to make Oikawa leave. Oikawa lifted his body off Iwaizumi and watched the latter stand up straight to stretch his sore limbs. Iwaizumi stretched his arms upwards before stretching his neck on each side and rotating his head, making a cracking sound.

"Argh, that feels nice," Iwaizumi said with relief as he stretches his shoulder by moving them back with his half folded arms pushing back. Oikawa loved the scene in front of him, Iwaizumi stretching with the sunset illuminating him. Iwaizumi just looked hot.

"What are you staring at?" Iwaizumi asked with furrowed eyebrows. Oikawa folded his arms and cocked his head to the side, eyes looking at Iwaizumi from head to toe.

"I must say, Iwa-chan, I love how hot you look right now," Oikawa shamelessly admitted with a cocky smirk on his face. Iwaizmu felt his cheeks heat up at the sudden honesty and praise that left Oikawa's lips. Iwaizumi gulped and turned to take the gardening tools that lay on the dirt.

"Shut your mouth if you don't have anything decent to say," Iwaizumi sternly said as he focuses on the tools, praying that the heat on his cheeks would subside.

Oikawa pouted and crossed his arms together, "Iwa-chan, I just finished my duties, and you're ignoring me," He whined. Iwaizumi sighed and continued to ignore him. Oikawa groaned and ran his hands through his face before deciding to jump on Iwaizumi's back. Iwaizumi stumbled forward for the second time that evening, but this time, he had to place his hands on the ground to stop himself from being shoved to the soil. He could feel Oikawa's arms tightly wrapped around his neck, making him sigh.

"Get off, I can't stand," Iwaizumi said through gritted teeth, but Oikawa just laughed and whispered, "no,"

Oikawa's breath was hot against Iwaizumi's ear, he was supposed to get mad and irritated, but he just sighed and wrapped his fingers around Oikawa's thigh, hand tightly gripping Oikawa to support him. He pushed his upper body using the hand planted on the ground to support him from being shoved. Iwaizumi's back was already straight, and Oikawa was happily humming, arms still wrapped around Iwaizumi's neck. Iwaizumi gripped Oikawa's other thigh using his now free hand before standing up and walking to their spot.

"You're such a huge baby," Iwaizumi complained while walking to the tree they'd always stay under. The tree that witnesses the countless nights they would spend together just looking up at the sky while telling each other stories of what they did that day.

"Well, you spoil me," Oikawa answered. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Iwaizumi's sweaty neck, the Earl smelled of sun and dirt, but Oikawa didn't mind. As long as it's Iwaizumi, it's fine.

"Don't nuzzle into my neck, I'm sweaty, I probably stink," Iwaizumi scolded and raised his shoulder to make Oikawa move his face away, but it didn't work. Oikawa just nuzzled closer, making Iwaizumi groan at his stubbornness.

"What were you doing anyway? I remember you telling me you're busy with your knightly duties?" Oikawa asked, still nuzzled in the juncture of Iwaizumi's neck and shoulder. Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa's soft lips lightly brushing against the skin of his neck as he speaks, making Iwaizumi's irritation towards Oikawa's neediness slowly subside.

"You always complain that you're craving for strawberries around July, so I decided to plan some to make you shut up," Iwaizumi said, voice laced with faux irritation, but Oikawa knows that it's just Iwaizumi's way of hiding his embarrassment for doing something sweet.

"You could've just asked one of the merchants to bring me some," Oikawa said, this time, his face wasn't nuzzled into Iwaizumi's neck. Instead, his chin is rested on Iwaizumi's shoulder so he could see his boyfriend's face.

"You're never satisfied and always ask for more; might as well have them in the garden for you to eat whenever your needy ass is craving for some," Iwaizumi said and gave him a side glance. Oikawa chuckled and moved his head back. His forehead was now resting on Iwaizumi's shoulder to hide the blush on his heated face.

"Thank you, Iwa-chan," Oikawa whispered. He felt Iwaizumi's fingers dig deeper into his thighs for a split second before returning to the gentle and secure grip it had on him earlier.

"I'm just doing this to lessen the burden for everyone," Iwaizumi reasoned. Still, Oikawa knew it was for him, everything Iwaizumi does is always for him, and no matter how much Iwaizumi hides it and refuse to admit it, they both knew.

"So mean, Iwa-chan," Oikawa responded with the usual faux pain lacing his words. Iwaizumi chuckled at how silly they were being. Oikawa felt the light shake of Iwaizumi's shoulder as the chuckle escape his lips. Oikawa let his lips curve into an ample smile as he presses his ear against Iwaizumi's back.

"Hey, let go, we're here," Iwaizumi whispered and turned his head to Oikawa. The latter raised his head and unwrapped his arm around Iwaizumi's neck while Iwaizumi kneels to let Oikawa's feet touch the ground.

"Cuddles?" Oikawa whispered and spread his arms wide open for Iwaizumi to walk into. Oikawa waited for Iwaizumi to turn towards him and give him a hug he was asking for, but Iwaizumi scoffed and sat under the tree. Oikawa pouted when Iwaizumi pressed his back against the tree but grinned when the Earl opened his arms for Oikawa.

Oikawa quickly moved to sit between Iwaizumi's legs, back pressed against his boyfriend's broad chest. Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around Oikawa's slim waist, chin resting on the latter's shoulder.

"You know I love you, right?" Iwaizumi asked in a whisper. Oikawa was taken aback and quickly moved his head towards Iwaizumi. The spiky-haired man had his eyes closed while his chin rested on his shoulder, and Oikawa softened. It was one of the rare times Iwaizumi would openly admit his love for Oikawa, and every time the moment comes, Oikawa couldn't help but feel his heart melt.

"I know, I love you, too," Oikawa whispered. Iwaizumi slowly opened his eyes and was met with dark brown ones staring lovingly at him. Iwaizumi smirked and moved his hand up from Oikawa's waist to touch his face. Iwaizumi's hand cupped Oikawa's slightly chubby cheeks, and the latter leaned into it. Iwaizumi moved his thumb to gently caress Oikawa's cheek making the latter smile and hum in response.

"I can kiss you, right?" Iwaizumi asked as his thumb move to slowly caress Oikawa's bottom lip. Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa's shoulder shake lightly as he chuckles.

"You're honestly asking me that when we've gone beyond that," Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi shrugged his shoulder.

"Your consent matters every time," Iwaizumi responded, making Oikawa stop laughing. Oikawa moved his hands to cover his face making Iwaizumi laugh. Oikawa could feel his chest wanting to burst from the love he's feeling for Iwaizumi.

"So, am I allowed to or not?" Iwaizumi asked after giving Oikawa a minute to collect himself. Oikawa slowly nodded without removing the hands that covered his face. Iwaizumi slowly moved his hands to Oikawa's wrists and gently pried them off of Oikawa's face.

Oikawa had always looked beautiful to Iwaizumi no matter what the circumstances are. It doesn't matter if he was crying, tears staining his cheeks and snot ungracefully falling from his nose, it doesn't matter if he just woke up with unruly hair with a trail of dried up saliva on his cheek, it doesn't matter if he was covered in blood and dirt from a victorious battle, Oikawa always looks gorgeous to him. To Iwaizumi, Oikawa is the greatest jewel of Seijoh, and he'd risk anything to keep Oikawa by his side.

"You're so breathtaking," Iwaizumi whispered against Oikawa's lips before moving forward to capture those rosy lips into a gentle kiss. Oikawa smiled and cupped Iwaizumi's cheek as he responds. The kiss was soft and gentle; there wasn't any rush because in that garden of theirs, under the witness of the stars and dazzling luminescence of the moon, all that mattered were their presence and love for each other.

#this is something I wrote back in 2020 #I had this published before but then deleted it because I lost the motivation to finish it 💀#I'm posting it here bc I remembered how much I loved writing this scene #anyway i hope you enjoyed it as well #iwaoi #iwaizumi x oikawa #haikyuu #haikyuu oikawa #hq drabbles #iwaizumi hajime x oikawa tooru #haikyuu iwaoi #hq iwaoi #haikyuu!!

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