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lordoftherazzles · 1 year

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Random Writer Anon!!

When you get this answer one of the questions (or all if you really want!) then pass it on to 5 writer friends! 🥰If you have more than one WIP, pick at random! We want you to talk about your works, and celebrate with you! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Don’t worry if you don’t know how to answer these questions, I’ll be back with more next Sunday. 😉

What are you most excited to write with this WIP?

How has this WIP changed since the “daydream/brainstorm” stage?

Who is your favorite character in this WIP and why?

Oh!! This is so wonderful!! I love the idea, Anon!! <3 And I thank you (and a handful of others) for dropping into my inbox! :) I'm going to answer all of these with different fics, so let's get going!!

Let's talk about....Bookbinder//Songwriter!

What are you most excited to write with this WIP?

OKAY!! So I have a great answer for this one. The next chapter I think I am going to touch base on a little flashback, to truly flesh out and highlight just how Bilbo and Thorin met. If you recall in chapter one, and even in one of the later chapters (...7 I think??) it's known that Thorin struggled HARD to ask Bilbo out, or do anything, because he's a big goob, and we love him. I want to show off exactly what happened - was it love at first sight? Did someone say something silly in embarrassment? We're going to find out, and I am so excited to do it! Also, there are some conflicts on the horizon, and I'm sure many of you who are familiar with the fic can guess as to what. If not, I'll leave you with this little hint: it doesn't hurt to be wary when those who abandoned you suddenly come out of nowhere with "good intentions". Success of others makes people do anything to get a hold of it.

How has this WIP changed since the “daydream / brainstorm” stage?

So this started out as a request, probably for a one-shot at the time, and it terrified me. Brainstorming it was....agonizing lol just as it was scary. This is my first modern au style fic, and it was so intimidating. Initially I was just going to do this as a few one-shot highlights, and then after the....second chapter??? I think??? I decided to just make it a full fic - it's one of those that could go on forever, I think, and it's evolved so much since the start - just as I've evolved with it. I've learned to love modern aus, and what started out as a scary experience and what I felt was an "underrated" fic, has become one of my favorites, and a fan favorite to many.

Who is your favorite character in this WIP and why?

This is a terribly hard question. I think the obvious answer(s) is Bilbo and Thorin, respectively, as they ARE the main characters of the story, my blorbos, the ones I put into any universe and dote on whenever I can. I could sit here and ramble for ages about why I love this version of them, but I think I can convey that the best in the fic itself. So for a non-bagginshield answer.... Radagast - While he's not been in the fic a lot, he's like the uncle/grandpa figure in Dis and Thorin's life, especially since they've lost their brother, father, and their grandfather Thror disowned them. He's a supportive adult who is typically on their side, and while sticking true to his portrayal in the movie, he's quirky and odd, and I love him to bits. He also has a pet raccoon that lives in the trash cans behind the bar??? AWESOME. He's been rooting for the Durin family, and I feel like can provide a safe space for them, as well as advice when needed. Is it good advice? That remains to be seen. Nori - The mischievous little gremlin, and Dwalin's significant other, as well as bass player for Durin's Desolation. He's SUCH a fun and cheeky character to play with, but he has a wonderful heart in his chest too. He's a fantastic partner for Dwalin, and while yes, he gets on the nerves of everyone ever, he genuinely cares about those around him. He gives me a great excuse to put some silliness into the chapters whenever he is around. Sometimes you just gotta be silly, dirty, and annoying, I guess lol

Thank you so much for this ask!! I'm so glad I got to babble about this fic a little bit!!

#raz answers #anon asks #bagginshield #fic: bookbinder//songwriter #thank you for the ask!!

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annabethy · 3 years

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14 or 54 pleaseeee <333

in which Percy and Annabeth are married, and Percy finds a pregnancy test in the trash,, percabeth

Percy’s not really sure what he’s doing when he walks into the bathroom. It’s a slow day, so he’s mainly sat around since he woke up, watching movies on the one day of the week that he doesn’t have to work. He only got up when he realized he should probably at least move around for five minutes before he does something dumb, like forget how to walk, and it turns out it’s a good thing he did.

He stands in the middle of the bathroom, blinking slowly and staring at himself in the mirror before he goes to wash his hands, and it’s only then that he looks down and spots the white sliver of plastic. It’s half covered, but enough is shown for him to draw the lines and forget how to breathe.

He grabs it and stares at it for approximately two seconds before he steps out of the bathroom and back into the living room where he’d left his wife.

“Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash?”

Annabeth glances up at him, only slightly startled by his dramatic entrance, before her eyes catch on the test. “Would you believe me if I said it was Piper’s?”

“Piper is in California,” Percy says.

“She flew back because she was panicking and it was an emergency.”

“Piper is also poor,” Percy says.

Annabeth cracks a smile at that, and that’s all it takes for Percy to be able to breathe again.

“It’s negative, silly.”

Percy tilts his head at her as he approaches her. She’s sitting on the couch, leaning against one of the throw pillows with her leg bent so that her foot rests against the cushions of the couch. He tosses the test at her stomach, and she rolls her eyes as she grabs it.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Percy says as he moves her foot off the couch to make space for himself. “I think I almost died, actually.”

“That would’ve been terrible if I were actually pregnant.”

Percy tugs on a strand of hair in warning.

“Why did you almost die?” Annabeth asks, her fingers threading through his hair when he lays his head on her lap. “Don’t you think that’s a bit dramatic?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he agrees. “You caught me off guard.”

“You went digging through the trash like a raccoon,” she corrects.

“I definitely didn’t.”

Annabeth laughs, and Percy finds he loves the sound.

“I wouldn’t mind, you know,” he says. “A baby.”

“Having a baby with your wife?” Annabeth pokes his cheek. “I would hope not, because I think we would have a problem otherwise.”

“I just mean we haven’t really talked about it,” Percy says. “We’ve been married for two years now, and we’re twenty-six.”

“Do you…want to have a baby now?”

“Do you?”

Annabeth pauses to think, and Percy suddenly feels very warm at the thought of having a baby with her. It’s not that they haven’t spoken about it at all—they both knew they wanted at least one or two at some point in the future��but since they got married, it just seemed so much more real.

Not that real is a bad thing, of course. Real is staring Percy in the face right now, and he kind of wants a baby.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I wasn’t worried about it being positive or anything because I love you.”

She looks like she wants to say something else, but instead, she just bites the inside of her cheek in a smile that has Percy melting from the inside out.

“I don’t know,” she repeats. “I wasn’t even thinking when I took it. I was a few days late, and we haven’t been the most careful recently, so I figured…”

“I want you to tell me next time,” Percy says. “I want to be there.”

Annabeth nudges his foot with hers. “You want to see me pee on a stick?”

“I want to be there if we’re going to have a baby,” Percy says.

“It sounds like you expect this to be happening a lot.”

Percy pulls himself up from her lap now, and he turns to face her. He rests his elbow against the back of the couch so he can gaze at her in awe while resting his cheek against him palm, and Annabeth mirrors him.

“I think…I want a baby.”

Annabeth smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Is that okay?”

Annabeth smiles softly again, and Percy reaches out to smooth a strand of hair down.

“I know we haven’t really talked about kids,” she says, “but I was excited today, and.”

Percy laughs. “And?”

“Shut up,” Annabeth mutters, hiding her face in the crook of her arm against the couch. “You know what I’m saying.”

He does know what she’s saying, and he can’t help but imagine that a year from now, they could have a baby. God, it’s an amazing thought, the two of them being parents. All the late nights and early mornings would be worth it because they have a baby—their baby—and there’s nothing Percy wants more.

“Then let’s have a baby,” Percy says brightly.

“It does suck that this one was negative.”

Percy blows air through his lips and sits up on the couch so he can tuck his legs underneath himself. “We can fix that.”

Annabeth chokes when he pulls his shirt over his head and wastes no time in pulling her ankles so that she slides down the couch, landing on her back.

“Oh my god,” Annabeth says, laughing when he pulls her closer to him and forces her knees apart as he crawls over her to kiss her. “You’re so embarrassing,” she murmurs against his lips.

Percy lifts his head so he can gaze at her beneath him. She’s beautiful with the way her hair lays out under her head and the way her eyes sparkle as she looks at him knowingly. “You love it.”

“It’s actually the worst,” Annabeth says when Percy trails featherlight kisses down her neck. “We’re really going to do this now? I was in the middle of watching Netflix.”

“Perfect,” Percy says. “Netflix and chill, with a side of baby.”

“Don’t ever put those words in the same sentence again.”

“I think you forgot who wears the pants in the relationship,” Percy says, amused. “Can we cut back on the attitude?”

Annabeth’s nails connect with the skin on his side where she knows he’s ticklish. “It’s not going to be you in a second, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“It won’t be you either,” he challenges. “I’m in charge.”

Annabeth smiles into the next kiss, and their teeth clash, but she’s too preoccupied to be worried about it.

“I guess you better make me believe it, then.”

And he definitely does.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #my writing #I forgot how to write this was much harder than necessary

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anatomical-puppet · 3 years

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A short lil fic because Oh My God, Arthyr My Beloved,,, I also just wanted to write some Eira angst with at least a kinda-happy ending lol :')

Warnings: Cursing, as well as mentions of injury and being attacked/jumped. Ask to tag if I forgot anything!

Reblogs appreciated!!! ^^

Arthyr had always found the day-to-day routine of princehood rather dull. You’d think it would be a walk in the park, and he was the first to admit that he did have it significantly better than most. But even then, there were still downsides.

The constant circle of guards that stalked his every move was certainly chief among his complaints. Really, what sort of self-respecting seventeen-year-old couldn’t even take a walk by himself? It was humiliating.

He was on one such walk- just a simple stroll to unwind after a particularly tense dinner with his parents- when he heard the falls of familiar boots a few meters to his left. They turned into an alleyway, the one a few blocks southwest of the castle with the graffiti at the far end and the family of raccoons living in the garbage cans. Thank god he’d taken the time to memorize the kingdom’s layout as a child; his little getaways would have been much more difficult otherwise.

“I think I heard some disturbance over that way,” Arthyr blurted immediately, pointing forwards and to the right, down a side street lined with book shops and apothecaries. “If you all would take a moment to investigate, I’d be very much appreciative.”

Three of the four guards flanking him nodded, hands apprehensively gravitating to their sabers as they walked the few meters to investigate the prince’s ruse. Thankfully, the remaining guard was new to his position and had yet to learn that the prince needed a careful eye on him at all times, lest he mysteriously vanish. He was remarkably stealthy for his height.

Arthyr waited a mere moment, listening to the other three guards grow steadily further away, before slipping silently behind the back of the fourth and jogging into the alleyway he’d heard the boots duck into.

“Eira?” he called in a stage whisper, smiling to himself and dragging his right hand along the coarse brick wall to keep himself on track. “I know you’re down here, silly bastard, I heard you.”

A hefty sigh greeted him from further along, lower than Arthyr had expected. He must’ve been sitting on the ground.

“I thought you said you were gonna be at home tonight.” The voice was congested and hollow.

“I was. But now I’m not.” Arthyr’s brow furrowed as he turned to face Eira’s voice, then sat beside him, careful not to dirty his cloak. “You sound cross.”

“I’m fine,” Eira bit back.

“Clearly not. What’s the matter?” Arthyr reached a hand out to carefully grasp Eira’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” Eira snapped, jerking his shoulder away.

“Eira, what-

“Go back home, Arty, it’s cold.”

“You say that as if it’s anything new,” Arthyr said with a roll of his eyes. “Really, what’s come over you? You sound like you’ve been crying. Tell me.”

Eira cursed, then stood and continued walking down the alley.

Arthyr could hear the limp to his steps.

“You’re hurt? Eira-”

“I told you it’s fine.” His voice cracked at the end. “Go. Home.”

“No.” Arthyr stood and began to walk beside Eira, his longer strides making it impossible for Eira to pass him without running, which would’ve been damn near impossible with that limp. “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what happened and how I can help.”

In his frustration, Eira slammed his hand against a nearby trash can, crying out on impact as pain seared back through his wrist.

“Something with your hand, too,” Arthyr sighed, holding a hand out towards Eira. “May I?”

Eira hesitated before shakily holding his left hand out for Arthyr to gingerly take.

His wrist and hand were shoddily wrapped in bandages, and he heard Eira wince when he put pressure on the joint. The bandages were slightly damp...

But they were cold. So it was just melted snow. Good.

“Who was it this time?” Arthyr asked gently, carefully pulling Eira’s sleeve down to cover the bandages before letting go and crossing his hands back over his cane.

“Some jackass fuckin’ kids,” Eira spat, leaning against the opposite wall before sliding down to sit. Arthyr took up his spot on Eira’s right yet again.

“They jumped at me, just tryin’ to scare me, and I… got startled. Accidentally hit one of them with some ice. And then they kicked my ass. Six of them, I think? Maybe more. I couldn’t see.”

“They attacked you because of the ice..? Or because you hit them?”

“Obviously because of the fucking ice,” Eira spat, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of on edge still.”

“That’s alright. I know how you get sometimes, I don’t mind.”

They sat in relative silence for a few moments before Arthyr heard a scratching on his left.

“You’re picking at the scar again.”

“What?”

“The scar. You’re picking at it.” Arthyr lifted his hand, giving Eira ample time to move his own away before gently guiding his touch away from the mark on his face. “It’s going to bleed again if you keep prodding at it like that.”

“I’ve had it for years and it’s only bled twice. I think I’ll be fine.” Arthyr could hear the roll of his eyes but chose to ignore it.

“Well, here. I can’t be away much longer or my father’ll have my head for running off again.” Arthyr rifled through his pockets, then pulled out a few coins and handed them to Eira. “I’m assuming you’ve got some scrapes and cuts, too, so buy yourself some antiseptic. And get supper while you’re at it, I know you haven’t eaten.”

“You sure you’re not magick? You seem pretty fuckin’ psychic to me” Eira breathed out a weak laugh but didn’t take the coins in Arthyr’s palm. “I’m fine.”

“You know I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

“Arty, really, I-”

“Eira, darling,” Arthyr mused, “denying the direct orders of the prince could be reasonably considered as treason, no? And I have ordered you to take this money and go buy yourself some damn food.”

Eira chuckled again, more like himself this time, and reluctantly slipped the coins into a hidden pocket of his jacket. “Thanks, your highness.”

“Ugh, you know I hate it when you call me that,” Arthyr laughed, standing and wiping snow from his cloak before holding a hand out to help Eira up.

“Of course I do. That’s why I do it.”

“Scoundrel.”

“Rich kid.”

“Street rat.”

“Pretty boy.”

“Little- wait, what?”

“What?”

“Prince Arthyr!”

Both heads turned sharply at the intrusion of the guard’s shout, just outside the entrance to the alleyway.

“Shit,” Eira whispered, looking about frantically. “I gotta hide, they’re gonna think I was trying to shiv you or something.”

“Find someplace quick, dumbass,” Arthyr hissed, hurriedly shoving Eira to the left. “I remember there being some boxes over there when I was here the other week.”

Eira dove, skidding into the snow behind the conveniently-placed stack of crates just as one of the crown’s guards rounded the corner, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of the prince standing, unscathed, at the tail end of the alleyway.

“Goodness, your majesty, why the hell are you in this dingy place? Not fit for a man of your rank, you know. And I really don’t think you’re supposed to be on your own, regardless.”

“Thought I heard something else awry and must’ve taken a wrong turn in my investigation,” Arthyr lied, walking briskly past the guard and allowing his cloak to whip against his face. “I’ll try not to get turned around next time I take a detour.”

#heartless #abd illustrates #prince arthyr #eira hale #my writing #tw cursing #tw injury mention

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october31st1981 · 4 years

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Scenes from the Past Six Years

There are a number of fics in the drafts of this blog that I started a few years ago, and no longer feel the inclination to finish. But there are still some pretty fun bits and bobs, so I’m going to throw them all up in one post if anyone is interested in some disjointed excerpts.

Dueling - Jan 27, 2014

James has his hands on her shoulders, and she is calculating how best to catapult him off of her body when his lips descend to kiss her thoroughly.

“James,” she protests, as they pause for a breath, “we’re supposed to be fighting.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, but the grin on his face contradicts his apology.

Later, when they are about to leave, Lily says, “I think we should compartmentalize our situations.” She does not meet his eyes, choosing instead to rub nonexistent grease off of her wand by running it against her jeans.

“How so?”

“Well… as much as I like snogging you, I think that we should have… snogging times, and dueling times. So we can be efficient with, er, both,” It sounds oddly formal and for reasons Lily is unsure about, a flush has risen in her cheeks. She still refuses to look him in the face.

James tilts her chin up, a gleeful look on his face. “Lily Evans, are you asking me out?”

She splutters out an indignant protest but James just grins all the wider. “You are asking me out,” he says, leaning closer to get her to look at him directly. Her cheeks are hot as his hands move to either side of her face. “Yes.”

And There Was Only One Bed - Feb 2, 2014

“One of you can come up and sleep with me.” As all four boys seem to prepare themselves for a smarmy comment, she adds, “Don’t start, gits. You know what I mean.”

“If someone’s joining you, Wormtail’s out,” Sirius says, his eyes flicking to the boy in question, “he’s a kicker.” From his tone, it seems that Sirius has experienced this very quality one too many times.

Peter huffs indignantly. “Padfoot’s a prat, I kicked him out of a hammock one time—” He cuts himself off as he sees the black-haired boy fingering his wand. “Fine, I’m out.”

“I’m out, too,” Remus says with a sigh. “I roll about too much, I’m afraid. I’d be falling out of the bed anyway."

James does not say anything, but instead he and Sirius seem to communicate something with a glance between them. James gives Sirius a warning look, but Sirius simply grins and pats the wooden arms of the chair, saying, "I’m comfortable where I am,”

“C'mere, then,” Lily says to James, gesturing to the spot next to her. Shooting a loaded glance at his best mate, he sits down.

Pecker Parody - April 22, 2014

James Potter had a problem. This particular dilemma was approximately five feet tall, freckled, and had a habit of popping up at inopportune times.

This problem was his diddly-doo. His magical wanking stick, if you will. You see, while having a dingler the size of a broomstick was all well and good when he was a boy, due to the fact he could ride it around like a pogo stick, at the age of eighteen, it was a bit more troublesome.

The truth of the matter was that he wanted to put his party popper inside Lily’s cash register, but he didn’t know how to tell her.

Birth - March 15, 2015

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he says in awe. “Did you know you could do that?”

Brushing some of her hair out of her sweaty face, Lily laughs. “I’d had some time to get used to the idea, yeah.”

James looks back at the bundle in his arms, and then again at his wife. “You just pushed an entire person out of you. Our person. He’s not tiny, either. I mean, he is tiny, but only because he’s a baby. Otherwise, he’s quite a large thing to be exiting any orifice.”

“If we ever do this again, you can do that part,” she says leaning back against the pillows.

Grease AU - June 25, 2015

(Also posted here.)

“This is… ridiculous,” she murmurs against his lips.

James laughs. “It’s a little late to denounce snogging on the beach, Evans, since we’ve been doing it for the past few weeks.” As he speaks, he drops his mouth to her neck, smiling as her eyes flutter.

Lily pulls his face up by the chin to meet his gaze. “I meant this whole thing.” She gestures around them. “After what happened after the Defence O.W.L. at the end of last term, how can you find any of this normal? Everything was such a mess after. Hell, if we hadn’t both come to the same place this holiday, I’d still be stewing in it by September.”

“But we did,” says James, brushing his nose against hers. “We talked and we yelled and we talked more and then you threw yourself at me.”

He dodges her swat at him much too easily to satisfy her, but at her raised brow he makes an amendment. “Alright, so I may have done some of the throwing. I’m a Chaser. I need to hone my reflexes.”

“My point is, it doesn’t feel like you’re Potter on this beach,” Lily says, ruffling his hair pointedly. She smiles. “You’re just James.”

“Just James,” he repeats, adjusting so he lies beside her instead of half atop her. “You make it sound like I’m two different people.”

It is Lily’s turn to laugh. “Aren’t you? I can’t imagine this version of you hoisting someone up by their ankles.”

“Of course not,” says James immediately. “I’m wearing trunks. Where would I keep my wand?”

Lily is already giggling by the time James begins suggesting locations on his body that he might be hiding his wand, and by the end of his lewd list, she is nearly having a fit on the sand. When she catches her breath, she looks at him. “I know I don’t get to keep Just James forever,” she says, leaning on his arm. “But at least try to preserve the illusion for me when we get back to school by avoiding me.”

James is quiet for a moment, but when he speaks his voice is soft. “You’re being silly, Lily,” he tells her, pulling her closer. “This is who I am. Caring about your feelings, about anyone’s feelings, isn’t exclusive to this beach.”

She kisses him, slowly and deeply. “Try to remember saying that.”

James grins. “If I’m going to be reliving a memory from this holiday, I reckon I have to choose the night under the pier—”

Lily laughs, cutting him off with her lips. “Be quiet, James.”

Masquerade - Dec 16, 2015

“So you’re Muggle-born, then?” he says thoughtfully. She stiffens, and he hasten to add, “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m just trying to figure how that narrows down the options for who you are.”

She smiles, but then looks a little put-out. “That’s hardly fair, I don’t know anything about you.”

“Pureblood,” he tells her, kissing her neck.

“A pureblood that doesn’t care that I’m Muggle-born? That does narrow down the options.” Her fingers tug at his robe. “N.E.W.T. classes?”

He shakes his head, kissing her lips quickly. “Too easy. Do you play Quidditch?”

“No. Do you?”

After a moment of hesitation, he says, “Yes,” so she is quick to follow with a suspicious, “On a team or for leisure?”

He laughs. “Both.”

Problematic.jpg - March 29, 2016

“James Potter,” Lily says to Mary suddenly, “is my problematic fave.”

“Receipts, please,” says Mary, not looking up from her copy of Witch Weekly.

“Plus, he’s like, a pureblood. So he’s got the whole legacy of all that fucked-up culture.”

“But like, a lowkey pureblood. He’s 12% Muggle-born.”

Junks the Trash King: The Sequel - April 18, 2016

“I’ve met the Rubbish Man,” announces Lily upon entering her flat.

“Good, tell him we need a new recycling bin,” says Mary absently. “There’s a family of raccoon living in ours.”

“Not him, Junks.”

The name catches Mary’s attention. “The soulmate?” she asks, straightening up. “How was he?”

Lily drags herself over to their kitchen table and collapses into a seat. “Not named Junks, for one.” Lily holds up her palm for Mary to inspect. “Apparently this is supposed to say ‘James.’”

“Shame. I’d rather hoped to one day receive a wedding invitation inviting me to the marriage of Lily and Junks. Though I’d have to bin it for the wordplay, you understand.” Lily turns her hand so she can flip Mary the bird, but from the look in her eyes, her friend has already spotted something new. “Got his number already, did you?”

Baby Brain - June 15, 2016

“I think I'm pregnant,” says Lily, so quietly that James almost doesn't hear it.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” she repeats, turning over in bed to face him. “I tell you I might be up the spout and all I get is, ‘Oh?’”

James grins at her in the dark. “Would you have preferred ‘Blimey?’” He expects the pillow that's aimed at his face.

“James.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Would you be okay with it? If I am?” It's hard to see her eyes clearly with such little light, but James can hear in her tone that she's nervous.

“I... Yeah, I would,” says James, seeking out her hand. “You know I want kids with you. I mean, I might not have seen this starting so soon, but I think we're pretty great at improvising. Remember our wedding reception?”

Lily laughs. “Somehow I don't think using Dumbledore's hat to catch projectile vomit is the same thing as raising a child.”

“I think you'll find they're remarkably similar.”

She laughs again. “I'm trying to work myself into a worry, James, and you're making it very difficult.”

He leans over to kiss her on the cheek. “Sorry, dear. Feel free to treat our child as a sign of impending doom.”

Lily leans her head onto his shoulder. “We're nineteen, James.”

“Old enough to be married,” he replies, poking her with his ring finger.

“We don't know anything about children.”

James smiles. “Children don’t know anything either, so we’ll be on a level playing field.”

(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ Hold My Flower - August 17, 2016

“Lily, no.”

She scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘Lily, no?’ I didn’t say anything.”

“Lily,” he says cheerfully, throwing an arm around her shoulder, “We have been married for forty-five years now—”

“Dating for eight months,” she corrects, holding back a smile.

James waves a hand dismissively. “So, in that time, I am confident that I’ve grown to recognize what your faces mean. And that face said, ‘I’m going to put frogspawn in his tea.’”

“I don’t carry around frogspawn, James.”

He looks at her dubiously. “But you’d find some, wouldn’t you?”

Countdown - October 31, 2016

“Padfoot gets back from his assignment tomorrow,” Lily tells him, eyes on their calendar.

James pauses in trying to convince his son of the merits of pureed beets. His eyes drift towards the day on the calendar circled in red. Lately, they’ve taken to marking their calendar with the events of their day, if only to make the days seem more distinct. August 27th: ‘At 3 o’clock, Harry said his first full sentence.’ September 12th: ‘At 6 in the morning, the cat brought James a present and left it in his mouth.’ Tomorrow, October 31st, is a rare date that marks the future.

“Good,” he says. “I was hoping he’d be back before his birthday.”

A small, hopeful smile blooms on her lips. “Perhaps we can finally give him a nice celebration. I know Moony is still underground, but Wormy said he’d stay close by. I could bake him a cake.”

“Cake!” says Harry, and James laughs. He takes advantage of his boy’s opened-mouth enthusiasm to give him a spoonful of beets. The look he receives is nothing short of betrayed.

Victorious and still chuckling, James turns back to his wife. “We can ask him to come by as soon as he’s home.”

Baby I’m Trying: The Sequel Pt. 1 - Jan 4, 2017

He wishes his mum were still around, but since she’s not, in his desperation, James consults his neighbour, Batty Bagshot. Though she’s had no children of her own, she’s looked after many of her nieces and nephews over the years, and James has never been more thankful to hear her drone on.

After his conversation with Bathilda, he comes home, arms laden with all the supplies she recommended he find. Sirius’s eyes are wide as James brings the load inside the flat. “Reckon you got enough?”

James slumps over to the floor and leans his head on the pram. “This stuff is only for the first six months,” he says, staring into space. “Do you know how many times a day a baby needs formula? D’you think McGonagall will let me take the baby to class?”

Sirius considers it. “McGonagall does let her cat into the lectures. Although,” he says, wrinkling his nose and holding the baby out to James, “she knows how to use a litter box.”

James wonders if it’s pathetic to google ‘How to change a nappy.’

Baby I’m Trying: The Sequel Pt. 2 - Jan 4, 2017

In three days, James has a paper documenting that the baby is one hundred percent, undeniably his. He hadn’t doubted that he was, but it’s something different to see it on paper. It makes the whole thing more real for him. He sets about telling the rest of his friends, and while they are as surprised as he is, they take it in stride and help him sort it out, as they’ve always done.

“What are you going to name him?” asks Remus.

“Wilberforce,” suggests Sirius, grinning.

James cracks a smile at that. “Maybe something unisex. Elvendork?”

“You’ll have no trouble calling out for him if you ever lose him,” says Peter fairly.

James laughs. The baby fusses a bit in his arms and he runs a hand over the dark mass of hair that is already on this boy’s head. “Could go with a family name,” James says thoughtfully.

“I’m going to take a moment to remind you that your father’s name was Fleamont,” says Remus.

He shakes his head. “My grandfather,” James says.

None of the boys know much about his grandfather, since he died while James was still in primary school, but Sirius lived with his parents for a time, and he knows James better than anyone else. So it is Sirius who asks, “Henry?”

“Harry,” corrects James. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but the baby stops squirming. “His name was Henry, but they called him Harry.”

“Harry Potter,” says Peter. “I like it.”

His son has a name. “Harry Potter,” James repeats quietly.

Ring Out - June 15, 2017

“Frank and Alice are engaged,” Sirius tells him as he slides a drink to James across the table.

James lifts the pint into the air. “Congratulations to them,” he says, and he means it. He knows many couples rushing to the altar these days, but Alice and Frank seem the best-suited for marriage of all of them. He takes a large swig of his firewhiskey.

Sirius raises an eyebrow. It takes no more than this movement for James to know what he will say next. Still, Sirius asks, “When are you going to ask her?”

“What, you reckon because everyone else we know is getting married, I ought to as well?” James asks, mirroring his friend's expression.

Sirius snorts. “No, I reckon that you're horrendously in love with Evans and want to ask her to be your wife.”

James takes another drink. “We're in the middle of a war, Padfoot.”

“Seems to be reason enough for everyone else,” Sirius counters, shrugging.

“Exactly," says James firmly. “I don't want Lily to marry me because she's afraid we're doing to die.”

Sirius pauses, reaching for his own firewhiskey. After a moment, he lowers his glass and shrugs once more. “We might.”

“We might not.” James retorts. He runs a hand through his hair. “I'd rather wait for her to be certain.”

“You're living together," Sirius says, and when James opens his mouth he shakes his head. “You say you live with me but you spend more time at Lily's than you do at ours.”

James chuckles. “So your concern is that we’re living in sin? Talk about glass houses, mate.”

#jily #james potter #lily evans #marauders #sirius black #fanfiction #these are just my favourite bits of thousands of words #to the rest of my drafts #a lovely viking funeral trip to valhalla #ayesha writes things #writing #exceprts #some of these may have been put up already idk #i am a packrat in all respects #long post #mine

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 4 years

Text

Artificial

My submission for @hetabang ! Hope you like it!

Word count: 3,590

Summary: Novovol, Russia, the 36th century. The people of this new age have formed two distinct societies: those of the upper world, high in the sky in pearly cities, and those of the lower world, living on junkyard scraps and breathing polluted air. These societies, both run on fear and power, were meant to forever stay separate. But one night, an android fell from the sky and broke through the barrier that divided them. An android who has no memory, not even his own name, programmed to be a companion, but also a guard. His weapons system had been upgraded illegally, and without proper maintenance, could prove to be dangerous and unstable. Ivan, one of the best mechanics of the lower world, fixes him up and gives him a name; Alfred. Together, they go on an adventure, discovering things about their world, themselves, and their feelings.

Chapter summary: Ivan ventures into the junkyard to dig through the heaps for useful treasures, his almost nightly activity. One wild decision changes the course of his life.

Warnings: brief mentions of death and bodies, hints at abuse(through scars)

Rating: T (to be changed)

Chapter 1: Hell’s Wasteland

The cold night air did wonders in smothering the noxious scents that blanketed the junkyard like a fog. While the sun’s heat cooked them and made them more powerful, nighttime forced them into hiding. The stench of death and rusted metal was enough to make a normal person retch, but Ivan frequented the location often enough that it was nothing but a minor nuisance.

With his scarf pulled up to cover his nose and goggles to protect his eyes from the chemicals and dust, he weaved through the heaps of filth, looking for treasures hidden amongst the trash. His mechanical pack mule followed behind him dutifully with its heavy, steel feet making square indents in the hard dirt. The droid was bulky and large, similar to the size of its namesake, but its well oiled parts allowed it to move silently. The only noise that came from it was when the luggage it carried clashed into each other inside the bins on its back.

This machine, that Ivan had built from scraps and named Buster, carried his maker's oddments so that Ivan could dig through the heaps freely. Every couple feet, the man stopped to poke through the collection of garbage and junk to pick out pieces that he could use for his work. There was a time when he'd jump at every eerie thing he found, but after years of coming here, those things only made his heart skip just a little.

Spotting a human-like leg sticking out from a pile, Ivan scanned it with his device and waited. "Artificial, 20% damage," it said, allowing Ivan to release his breath and drag the limb out so he could toss it into his bins. He had learned the hard way that it was better to be safe than to drag out a corpse.

It was one of the reasons the place was nicknamed "Hell's Wasteland." Broken androids tossed out here made it look like the place was littered with human bodies. The gangs saw that as an opportunity and began to dispose of their enemies here, hence the smell of decay. No one but vultures like Ivan went through here. No one would ever see. And even if someone did, the law would never listen to someone who only had 2 sets of clothes and ate crumbs for meals.

What was once a scrap yard had now turned into a dumping ground. After the owners had disappeared, no one was left to take over. Local rumors said that the owners were still on the land, buried under rotten food and broken refrigerators. “If you listen closely, you can hear them crying,” they would say, “they’re waiting for someone to rescue them. But once you get close enough, they’ll snatch your body and use it as their own.”

But Ivan knew better than to listen to wild stories of ghosts and possession. He knew after many visits that it was the cries of cats. When they yowled in the night, it sounded like a child who had lost their guardian, or perhaps someone who was in pain. And since they ran away at the slightest sound, it was no surprise many people have never seen the source of the sound.

Just then, that exact sound that people dreaded hearing pierced through the air and struck Ivan’s heart with chilling fear. He knew it was only a cat, but even the bravest of men would flinch at a shrill noise breaking silence. Head tilted towards the night sky, he listened, waiting for the sound to meet him again.

When it came, he followed it with the stealth of an assassin. Even the slightest disturbance could send them running, and Ivan didn’t want to miss his chance of seeing a cute cat.

With every step, he drew closer, which meant the cat had not discovered him yet. Maybe this time he would be able to catch it and bring it home. Then again, his budget could barely support his sisters and himself. To add another mouth to feed, that would leave them eating out of the dumpster. But one could dream. A small part of him hoped that the soft clanging of metal in Buster’s bins scared the cat away so he wouldn’t have false hope.

But things never seemed to turn out his way. As he peeked out from behind an overturned car, he spotted the cat that had been yowling for attention and finally understood why it had not run.

What he saw was an unfortunate black cat stuck in a discarded raccoon trap, its paw reaching out past the bars in an attempt to open the spring doors. Ivan approached it slowly, his large body hunched over in an attempt to make himself smaller for the cat. The mental image of himself looking like a crooked, old witch approaching their animal apprentice crossed his mind and made him smile.

“Don’t scratch me, please,” he whispered after tugging down his scarf, “I’m just trying to help you.”

Back arched and hairs standing straight, the cat was not happy at all that such a big creature was so close while it was defenseless. It hissed and swatted at Ivan’s hands when he got too close, but eventually, the human proved to be trustworthy.

He didn’t make any sudden movements, and for that, the small creature was thankful. Slowly, it relaxed, pressing itself against the corner of the cage instead of trying to shred Ivan’s helping hand.

“You’re very beautiful. I will call you Novi. Do you like that?” He smiled down at the black cat that stared at him with wide, wary eyes. The cage jolted and clicked when it was finally opened and the cat took off with such speed, he could see bits of the ground scatter as her claws tore it up.

Ivan let out a soft grunt of disappointment watching her disappear behind a pile of garbage bags. “What? No ‘thank you’? That’s a little bit rude.” He chuckled at his own silliness before walking back over to his droid. “Did you get that, Buster?”

Those keywords made the droid open his sealed mouth with a click. Ivan reached between the spiked teeth to grab a cord to connect to his phone while Buster’s eyes flashed red to verify his identity. They turned blue when the iris scan passed the test, his tail wagging as his defense mode was disengaged. Only Ivan, his sisters, and people he approved had access to Buster’s security files. If anyone else had tried it, the jaws would clamp shut with enough force to take their hand clean off their body.

With a few taps, he was able to see what his droid’s eyes had recorded. Crystal clear footage of Ivan interacting with the cat popped up on his screen. The quality was good enough that Ivan could pause and zoom in on it just to get a closer look. He took a screenshot and smiled.

“Send this image to Kat. Caption it, ‘rescued a cat from a raccoon cage. Named it Novi. Can I keep it?’ Message complete.” He continued to scrub through the video as he waited for the droid to do as he said.

The droid went completely still for a few seconds then moved his head in a nodding motion once it was done. He spoke in a human-like voice with a slight mechanical buzz. “Message sent to Kat: Rescued a cat from a raccoon cage. Named it Novi. Can I keep it? Image attached.”

“Good boy.” Ivan pat him on the head twice before disconnecting the cord and tapping his chin, making his steel jaws slam shut. Turning to the left, he began to return to his previous task but Buster stood firm.

“Novi spotted.”

Ivan stopped, turning back to the droid. “What?”

“Novi spotted,” he repeated, looking straight ahead.

He followed the eyes of his droid until he saw what his target was. There, standing on top of an old monitor, was Novi. Her tail swayed in the air playfully, as if waiting for Ivan to notice. “Are you back to thank me?” He asked the question as if he expected an answer.

Novi stared at him, completely still except her tail, then she blinked and hopped off the pile of scraps. Ivan had expected her to run a second time, but she turned back to look at him and waited.

“Buster,” he said, his eyes not leaving the cat.

The droid chimed once.

“Choice: Follow, or don’t follow.”

The droid chimed twice. “Choice: Follow, or don’t follow. I choose follow.”

Ivan hesitated. “Buster, what’s my luck today?”

Two chimes again. “Your luck today is amazing! Who knows what will happen when you take a chance!”

“Take a chance,” he repeated under his breath. Every fiber of his being was screaming to him that this was just like the start of a horror movie, but he took a deep breath and began walking towards the cat. “Maybe she will show me her kittens. Yes. This will be good. I have good luck today.”

Even as he told himself this, his hands were cold and clammy from nervousness. A black cat on a full moon wanted to lead him somewhere. It didn’t seem like a good sign. Any rational person would ignore this stray animal. It could be a trap. Maybe demons. Or maybe Ivan was just being too superstitious.

Several times, he had attempted to turn the other direction, thinking that following a cat was just too silly, but every time Ivan tried, Novi would walk back over to Ivan and stare. Waiting. Whatever it was Novi was trying to show him, it must be important.

“Alright alright, I’m following,” he muttered after a fourth attempt to escape.

They were nearing the center of the junkyard now. The piles here were stacked so high, even Ivan had to crane his neck to catch only a small glimpse of what was at the top.

He tended to avoid this area. Located directly below the highway, it was a popular spot to toss things over the side. If one wasn’t careful, they could be crushed flat by someone tossing out their garbage. It was also very unstable. One misstep could cause the garbage to topple like an avalanche, and if one was alone, once they were buried, that would be the end.

“I don’t think I can follow you further, Novi.” Ivan watched as the cat hopped gracefully on the pile, her light body barely making the objects move. But for Ivan, every step he took made garbage tumble down the sides.

The foolish human had already come this far on his quest, and he didn't want to waste it by turning back. But one wrong step made his foot slip into the pile, a broken beer bottle cutting into his leg. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to make him hiss and stain his torn pants with blood.

Maybe it was a sign that he should stop trying to climb this mountain of garbage. The wound on his leg was small, but if it wasn't treated, it could cause an infection. “I’m sorry but this is the end of our little adventure. My sister will be very angry if I die trying to follow a cat.”

Of course, Novi gave no response. She only stared at him a while longer, looked at the highway above, then took off. At first, Ivan thought that perhaps she had run off because she knew Ivan would no longer follow, but the sound of a car door slamming shut told him otherwise.

“Oh no.” He looked up at the highway, spotting two men approaching the side, working together to carry something heavy. Ivan shouted for them to stop as he scrambled to get to the bottom, but they couldn’t hear him. From the highway to the ground was a drop almost a hundred feet. His pleads would never reach them. And even if they did, they wouldn’t care.

Ivan had only caught a glimpse of what looked like an old sofa being chucked over the edge before the impact of it crashing down into the pile caused everything to topple over. Like a mudslide, everything on the top layer tumbled to the ground, Ivan included.

He did what he could to protect himself as he fell; his limbs cut and bruised as he tried to shield his head. There was nothing he could hold on to. Nothing was stable. It only stopped when everything pooled on the ground, adding to the mountain’s size.

Buster, who had stayed on the ground while Ivan chose to climb, ran over to the spot his maker was buried. He dug him out as fast as he could, then dragged Ivan to the side where he’d be able to avoid the damage of falling garbage.

“Are you okay?” What Buster got wasn’t an answer to his question, but a smack on his metal head. “Ow.”

“You liar. You said I have good luck!” He hissed as he stood up. His clothing was torn in several places and his body was covered in filth.

Buster tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Luck readings are chosen randomly from choices you programmed into my system. If you are not satisfied with your reading, please ask ag-... Ow.” The droid was cut short when his maker smacked him again.

“Maybe if I rebooted you, you won’t be so sassy.”

“My personality is also programmed by you.”

“Stop talking.”

“Silent mode: On.”

Ivan sighed when the droid went silent. He knew it was his own fault for following a cat into such dangerous territory. Now he had to go home and tell his sister that he needed to borrow money to buy a new set of clothes. At least his scarf was okay.

He wrapped the piece of cloth back to how it was when he started his hunt and tended to all the cuts with the first aid kit kept inside his droid. Then, pretending like nothing had happened, he went back to digging through the rubble. If he was going to ask Kat for money, the least he could do was sell a couple more of his projects to earn it back. And to do that, he needed the parts.

The more he looked and the more he collected, he was beginning to believe that perhaps Buster’s reading was correct. While this area was dangerous and risky, it also held the freshest picks. He had collected so much scrap metal and spare parts that the bins grew full.

Dozens of different projects zipped through his mind. He could make a small pet droid. Maybe a drone. Or maybe he could invent something brand new! He could be rich!

A noise from the highway above only added to his excitement. He took a couple steps back from the pile, just to be safe, then watched to see what the people would toss over. “Come on. Give me something good.”

All he could see were dark figures, but the mystery of it made his heart race. It all stopped when he saw the discarded object reveal itself in the moonlight as it fell. “No way…”

Like before, the impact of the tossed object caused the pile to crumble. Anything on the surface was buried once again, but Ivan’s eyes were locked on the new addition.

He waited until the trash had settled and the men above had left before dashing over to where the object was resting. It was buried under bags of garbage and electronic trash, but Ivan had found it. It was broken and damaged, but it was unmistakably an android.

“What a beauty,” he said to himself as he admired the human-like machine. If it wasn’t for the broken skin revealing metal underneath, Ivan would have thought it was a human.

The body was built to be male, a strong one too, and it had a head of long, blond hair with a firm but pretty face. The model wasn’t one Ivan has seen in the catalogs either, so it must be custom built. Which also meant it was an expensive model. The more expensive the model, the more he could sell it for.

“Let’s see… Are you still active?” He waved a hand in front of the android’s lifeless face but gained no reaction. Snapping his fingers to try and wake it by sound did not work either. But when his hand made contact with its silicon skin, its eyes snapped open and locked on Ivan.

Ivan jumped back quickly when blue eyes flashed red. “W-wait!” He snatched up whatever he could to protect himself. Unfortunately, his weapon of choice turned out to be a bent pole. “I’m friendly. I promise.”

The android stared at him for a long time. Ivan could hear the whir of his engine as his system tried to determine whether or not Ivan was a threat. Several times, his eyes had gone dark only to flash back on again seconds later.

“Battery failure,” he whispered as a mental note, “but reaction is good.” That brought a smile to his face. With a couple quick fixes, he could have this android good as new and sell him for thousands. So no matter how long it would take, he waited.

He waited, with an eager smile, until the android relaxed his body, his eyes dimming down to a natural blue. “Identify yourself,” he spoke. His voice box was damaged, making his speech sound like he was speaking through a static tube.

"My name is Ivan. I won't hurt you," he keeps his voice calm and quiet like he had with Novi. Now that the android had calmed, he lowered his weapon and came closer until he was within his arm’s reach.

Ivan had opened his mouth to speak again, but the android’s arm shot forward and grabbed his scarf. He pulled the human down until Ivan was staring into flickering blue eyes. “Who… am I?”

"I don't know. We've only just met. But I can find out." Dig through his memory files, erase them, reboot him, sell.

"Are you ICON?" The android spoke the word as if he didn’t know the meaning.

“ICON?” Ivan paused, his train of thought halting. "I'm Ivan, not ICON. What is ICON?"

He was silent and still for a while, making Ivan believe that it was another system malfunction. But since he had continued to blink, Ivan knew it was just his mind trying desperately to process an answer. "I... don't know. My limbs are damaged. I don't believe I can walk."

"I can take you to my home.” He took a step to the side, gesturing to Buster. “I can fix you. Would you like that?"

"I lack the currency required. At least... I believe I do..." His eyes moved sluggishly from Ivan to the droid, then back again.

"I don’t require currency. Only your permission. Will you allow me to fix you?"

The android grew silent again, then slowly, he nodded. “Okay.”

"I'm going to pick you up now. Is that alright?"

"... I give you permission," he nodded again, "but become a threat and you're dead."

Ivan gave the android a nod in return before he slowly moved the junk off of him. It wasn’t until all of it was cleared that he realized the reason the android couldn’t move.

His left arm and both of the android’s legs were marked with plasma burns. The damage of it melted through the synthetic skin, past the metal plating, and scorched the circuits underneath. The pattern of the injury looked like it was done with a rope, or perhaps a whip, wrapped several times around each damaged limb. Thoughts of fixing and reselling the android quickly began to fade. Not even a machine deserved to be treated like this. The rich were truly inhumane.

“Does it hurt?”

"Of course it hurts," he gave him a puzzled look, "but that doesn't matter."

"It does matter. You shouldn't suffer. Do you want me to power you down? I promise I'll turn you on again when you're safe. It’s so you won't suffer any pain when I move you."

The android frowned, his face scrunched up in distrust. "How can I trust you?"

"I guess you'll just have to. But I won't force you to agree."

The android had no reason to trust Ivan. They had only just met. If Ivan was a dishonest person, he could shut Alfred down, take him apart, and resell every piece for a good price. Both parties knew that. But Buster had predicted that today was Ivan's lucky day, and that prediction showed to be true. The android, who couldn’t even process his own memories, had decided to trust him.

“Fine,” he said, his voice soft. “Turn… turn me off. But I’m trusting you.”

"You're making the right decision. I'll speak to you again soon. I’m turning you off now." He reached forward slowly, praying that the android wouldn’t activate his defenses once again. His fingers felt around the back of his neck until he grazed across a circular dent.

For a second, his fingers rested there as he stared into the android’s eyes. He recognized the fear, the panic and uncertainty, but if Ivan was going to move him without hurting him, he would need to be shut down.

“You can trust me,” Ivan reassured him.

Then slowly, the android’s eyes slipped shut.

#hetabang #rusame #rusame fanfiction #hws russia #hws america #hetabang fanfiction #bringbackhetalia2020 #hws rusame #artificial #scifi au #machine learning about humans trope #two fics in one month after 2 years of silence? yes #youre going to get two more years of silence because im goinf back to work in 2 days #wish me luck please #i dont want to go back to dealing with idiots

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

Text

The Wonders of Sleep - You are a Nightmare (4/5)

Summary: Remus is in another chaotic frenzy and refuses to calm down, so Virgil has to step in and convince the Dark Creativity that sleep can be fun too. At least Thomas well get to rest with this.

Tags: Remus things! Talks about murder, death, violence, inflicting pain etc on others/self (your basic favourites in intrusive thoughts), weapons, brutality, Remus, virgil, dukexiety, the duke of nonsense and bullshit, caps, angery remus, moth man/ rat man mentions, sexual innuendo, food, (eating) worms, plants, weird living conditions, disgusting room description, absolute chaos, caring about thomas, mutual care, fluff, domestic fluff, swearwords, lotsa cursing, dismissive nicknames, self harm (mention)

Tumblr : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 . Ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / all.

My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Story under the cut: (<2k)

A gargantuan mace hit the ground, sending splitting stones and other pieces of damaged ground flying through the heart of the imagination.

“KILL HIM, I SAY!”

Dark Creativity screeched into the air. He ripped the mace out of the ground with great effort and immediately struck the ground with a loud war scream.

His deafening screams and yells filled the vast emptiness of the mindscape. Other than that, the slightly more silent noise of Remus consistently breaking and devastating the rocks and mountains of the desert he was in.

“Thomas just needs to get a simple baseball bat and SMASH HIS SKULL IN!”

Remus repeated his motion of shattering the bleeding ground as he hurled his mace out and behind his back for the maximum amount of swinging power science would give him.

“No more PAY! No more BILLS!”

He worked the mace down into the ground, his whole body following the movement. His upper body went down with the large weapon and stopped just shy of the unsteady ground, splitting it.

A growl could be heard. It erupted from the depths of the ground could as the dark floor slowly drove itself away from one another in two halves.

The Duke’s rage had halved the currently imagined world.

He freed his mace and brought it back to his chest. One of his hands brushed over the end of it, the one without stabby spikes! Still a pretty side, to Remus.

A little light bubble, dark pink, grew at said end with a bit of distance to the stick-part itself.

Remus shook the mace, letting the spikes give way to nothing but a long, black stick. Once the hurty spikes were gone, he YEETED the consistently expanding bubble in front of him and repeated.

“KILL HIM!”

The bubble manifested itself in the air, sticking to the invisible laws of the Duke’s whimsy. Slowly, a picture started to fade onto the dark background. Thomas could be seen, holding a bat. It was just as Remus had predicted.

The scene became crystal clear and with a simple snip of his fingers, Thomas moved as if trapped in the gifset of a violent mind. He bashed into his head, again, again, again and again as Remus chanted in moral support.

“GO! YES! GO! AGAIN! MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE-”

“Remus.”

The Imagination shifted at once, the bubbling magma morphing into a small river while the dark ground, the stones and rocks and destruction turned into a field of grass.

While the air remained heavy, the bubble popped and Remus’ stick became nothing but an elegant twig.

“Why are you up so late?”

Creativity growled in response and shook his body like a wet dog. His flouncy outfit floated as if in timelapse.

“Why are you up so late? Stop asking me silly questions. I am creating.”

Virgil hopped over the small river and turned to look directly at the raging side.

“You look as if you are pouting”, he stated calmly, much like Logan would, “what got ya stinki mood up, poopy boy?”

Remus glared back at the smaller side and cleared his throat. He bowed to pick up his twig.

“My mace.”

That was definitely a pout. Remus’ lips were pursed into a pout, even his words seemed to pout despite his sentence being so short of them.

The mustache seemed to stretch his face into a long, sad face. Maybe he was actually manipulating his appearance, maybe the facial hair really put an extra emphasis after all.

“You are the Duke of Creativity. If you want it back, you do that. Now, how about we give this financial discussion a break and fucking chill for a minute.”

Remus threw the twig away and shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Yeah, you would like that. How about Thomathy here gets it on with a hot dude and I will shut up?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“We could eat that cockroach Thomathy squished this morning! I will get it from the trash!”

The Duke started running for time before the other could even react. Anxiety kicked in, shifting the imagination in a way, they found themselves in Remus’ messy bedroom.

A huge vine came out of the closet and ended mid-room before the bed.. or whatever one wanted to call the mess of clothing. There was a glowing blue trail of splatter on the floor. Weapons and.. hair??? were cluttered all over the floor.

Virgil could hear a distant slapping of meat.

The floorboards seemed rather loose and rattled.

“My room! ROOM ROOM ROOM!”

Remus drew Virgil close.

“Emo! Look at my plant! It is really cute! It will love you!”

Virgil clung to the ever-changing mess of ideas and shook his head.

“I want to sleep, Remus. Shut up and go to sleep with me. You can wreck havoc and reek tomorrow but Thomas needs to sleep or else he will be shit in the morning.”

The man in question bounced.

“If I make Thomathy beat up himself, he will look like shit for sure!!!”

The emo rolled his eyes and nudged Remus towards the bed. He had not even expected the room to look as bad. Maybe he should have taken this to the living-room or literally any space that had a comfortable ground to lay on. He was a metaphysical being who could not really perceive pain after all - the choice to sleep was really just allowing Thomas to deal with things more calmly, at least in the case of Anxiety. Also, only given that Virgil did not deliberately clock out in order to spare Thomas any effect from his side.

“Nah, that is work. Work sucks. We wanna sleep forever and eat weird shit, right?”

Remus grumbled.

At heart, he sort of agreed. Right now, he was driven to do things, to be active and creative or destroy and simply do as much as he could because he had that energy.

“Nap time, Dukey.”

Virgil tugged him towards the bed.

“Oh, Virgil ~ I did not know you were into this kind of thing ~”

The addressed side blushed but shook his head.

“In your dreams, fucker.”

He stepped closer to the unmoving wall of Creativity. Confidently, he let their chests collide, sending Remus backwards.

The wavering Duke gasped in surprise and squeaked insolently.

“EmO!”, he screeches with a voice that got scratchier and scratchier by the minute. His arms flailed into any direction until he drew them in front of his chest to cross them.

“How can you be cunning and cunt-y?”

Virgil could hear his brain yell a conditioned “language!” response at him. He literally heard Patton scold Remus in his brain. Judging from the sour look on the other’s face, the anxious trait assumed he could hear it too.

“Now you know how tiring it can be to hear something in you, that you can’t stop? Pretty fucking shitty, huh? Move, babysitting you is tiring.”

The reveal of a long, pink tongue was the response but Remus kicked off his boots and patted his clothings until they dissolved into some sort of magical glitter dust. It silently trickled down onto the floor and was blown into all directions of the room.

This place really had a mind of its own. Not that Virgil really minded this.

“Good Remus”, Virgil praised softly as he joined the other on the bed. They laid down together and Virgil kicked a bundle of weapons and books off the bed, “oops. My bad. I thought it was your pet raccoon.”

Remus giggled.

“No! That is you!”

Virgil shook his head, grinning into his oversized mess of a self-ruined jacket. The Duke looked at him in his own naked glory and patted the space next to him. To join him on the fun, he eyed the stack of his dirty single socks collection and gave it a strong kick.

“PARTY!”

“Nooo, nap time. We wanted to be nice to Thomas and fuck shit up tomorrow.”

Creativity blinked at Virgil. A rare occasion. The blinking and directly looking at someone. He usually just stared into something nobody but him could see. It was chilling and so deeply terrifying, Thomas would feel it in his bones when anyone but Logan or the (former) Others interacted with him.

“You will join me?”

Virgil threw his head back as he slowly snuggled up to Remus, filling the spot he had previously patted. A groan escaped his lips and he let his head roll against Remus’ shoulder.

Instead of answering, he clapped his hands together, summoning a little bowl he thrusted into Remus’ hands.

The bowl was full of little gummy worms which looked surprisingly disgusting with how slimy and wet they appeared to be. They had a certain shine to them and the colour was so unnaturally neon orange, they were glowing in the dim lighting of the Duke’s room.

“Have a cursed snack and get your creative energy into a fucked up sex dream instead of making Thomas uncomfortable. He’s got some shit to do tomorrow.”

Silence took over the room.

Virgil caused some rustling sounds as he curled up next to Remus. The room was surprisingly un-stinky compared to what he had expected.

Loud chewing sounds interrupted the momentary silence.

It was good while it lasted but Virgil was willing to trade his own discomfort for the sake of Thomas’ well-being. He needed his sleep with another tough schedule coming up.

“Virgil?”

He hummed in response.

“Are you anxious because of the new projects they planned?”

The former dark side curled further into himself, shaking his head stubbornly.

Chewing sounds continued for a bit until Remus took a small break and suddenly snapped his head back and emptied the whole bowl into his mouth. Without even moving his jaw to chew, he swallowed his big ball of cursed sweets and made a lewd lip-smacking sound.

Virgil opened his mouth to comment on how disgusting the other was but he interrupted him.

“Come cuddle. It is okay to be scared. I will eat your mean anxiety.”

He shook his head. The Duke turned to pull Virgil into a hug. The anxious side chuckled.

“This is not how I work.”

“Yeah, but it is how I work.”

“Whatever, Remus. Shut up if you wanna cuddle, you rat man.”

It was Remus’ turn to chuckle.

“You just wish I was moth man!”

Virgil shook his head, smirking into Remus’ neck. He finally allowed himself to close his eyes and hold onto the other.

It was silent.

For real.

Within minutes, Remus was asleep and Virgil was ever so silently snoring, nobody could hear it.

#ts remus #remus sanders #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #fanfic fluff #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #joey writes #domestic fluff #Fluffy Fic #fluff

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cumonbucky · 7 years

Text

Don’t Say Anything (part 2)

Summary: You finally decide to tell Bucky that you’ve been in love with him since the day you met but what happens when you walk in on him with a girl? And not just any girl; Natasha.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst my friends, sadness

A/N: Here’s part twooooooo! Enjoy! Also, who has my notifications on? I’m curious.

You run back to your room, hoping that Wanda had left so that she wouldn’t see you about to break down. You thank the heavens above when she’s nowhere inside your room and lock the door, throwing yourself on your bed. You bury your face into your pillow and let out a sob. Then another. And another. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cried so hard.

Of course he’s With Natasha. Beautiful, skilled, badass Natasha. You were just his friend. Why did you think you could ever be more than a friend to Bucky?

You couldn’t believe what you just saw only moments ago. It was all so surreal. How did you not know about the two of them? How did you not catch on? Were you really that oblivious?

The image of Natasha and Bucky making out on his bed appears in your mind and you squeeze your eyes shut, crying some more. You should have made a move a long time ago. Maybe then everything would be different.

What are you thinking? Of course it wouldn’t. He’d still choose Natasha no matter what. Why would he chose a 1 over a 10? You’ve always felt like you weren’t good enough. Growing up, you were always someone’s second choice and if not - Third.

You thought Bucky liked you back. At least a little bit. He’d always take you out for milkshakes or lunch - sometimes dinner. The two of you would be cooped up in his room with blankets and pillows watching Disney movies and singing along to every song. He’d always remind you how beautiful you looked (even if you just woke up and you looked like a zombie raccoon). Was that him just being a good friend?

Of course it was. He could never like you more than just a friend.

You had to get over him and fast. He’s happy with Natasha and you don’t want to ruin that. All you’ve ever wanted was for him to be happy. He deserves to be happy. So, you decide to distance yourself from him in hopes that the crush goes away.

You hope it goes away.

The next day you walk into the kitchen, eyes burning from crying the night before. Everyone was in the kitchen, getting ready for the day while you decided on being a log and staying in your room.

“You look like trash.” Sam comments and you glare at him.

“Shut up, she looks beautiful.” Bucky comes over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing your temple.

You take a sneak look at Nat before shrugging his arm off of you, continuing to walk over to the fridge. You pull out the milk, grab a bowl and open the pantry, scanning for the cereal that you wanted. It took a minute but you saw it and it was pushed back on the shelf. What kind of sick monster does that?

With a huff you get on your tip toes, trying to reach for the box but fail miserably. Suddenly, a hand wraps itself around your waist and you gasp, seeing Bucky smiling at you. He reaches up and grabs the box before handing it to you.

“Saw you having some trouble, doll, thought I’d be your knight in shining armor.” he says with a wink. You fight the urge to smile. Why was he so damn cute? What kind of sorcery was this?

“Thanks.” you murmur, turning away and making your cereal. You don’t see the confusion on Bucky’s face. You’d usually say something silly back but you couldn’t. Not while knowing that him and Natasha were a thing.

“Baby doll,” Bucky says softly, coming up next to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” you shrug, pouring your cereal in then the milk.

“Well did I do something to upset you?” yes. “You’re acting different.”

You sigh. “I just don’t feel good today, Buck.”

“Is there anything I can-”

“Hey guys.” Nat smiled.

“Hey Nat.” Bucky responds. You grab a spoon and put it in your bowl after putting everything away.

“Y/N, how’d it go with the guy that you like? Wanda told me you went to tell him that you like him yesterday.” she smiled, bringing her cup of coffee to her lips.

Bucky looks over at you. “You like someone?”

“More like she’s in love with this guy. I’ve never seen her so smitten before.” Natasha chuckled.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. Was he.. Jealous? No, he couldn’t be. He had no reason to be. He was with Natasha for Pete's sake! You brush it off as the little hope you were hanging onto.

“ Uh.. Yeah I went to tell him that I like him but it turns out he only sees me as a friend and he has a girlfriend. I guess I’ve been misinterpreting his kind gestures this whole time.” you respond, picking your bowl up.

“What an asshole.” she huffed. “Tell me who he is so I can kick his ass. Maybe that’ll knock some sense into him.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear. Little does she know that the ‘asshole’ is standing right in front of her. “No it’s fine. I was stupid to think he’d like someone like me.”

“You’re crazy.” Bucky spoke. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. That guy doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

That guy is you.

You give him a small smile before sighing. “It’s whatever.”

“What are you doing today?” the red head asks.

“Nothing. Just gonna stay in my room and watch movies.” you shrug.

“What? No! Please tell me you’re not gonna sulk over this guy.” Bucky says. “He’s an idiot!”

You take a bite of your cereal.

“Go take a shower, get dressed and I’ll take you to Coney Island or something. Maybe the zoo? I know how much you love animals.” he adds.

You shake your head. “Bucky no.”

“Bucky yes.” he smiled. “Go on, get ready.” you stare at him, giving him your best puppy dog face and he chuckles. “That’s not gonna work this time. Go.”

You groan, dragging yourself to your room while shoveling cereal in your mouth. So much for distancing yourself.

A/N: Here you goooooo. Tell me what ya think!

Tags:

@your-puddin @heismyhunter @buchananbarnestrash @live-in-the-now10 @jcb2k16 @plumqueenbucky @thefandomplace @chocolatereignz @blueberry-pens @professionally-crazed @idk-something-amazing-i-guess @almondbuttercup @janetgenea @buckysmetallicstump @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @rvb-and-marvel-shit @ouatalways @winterboobaer @thyotakukimkim @hattnco @millaraysuyai @themercurialmadhatter @miss-jessi29 @snakesgoethe @helloitsgrc @welcometothecasmofsar @aboxinthestars @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @fandommaniacx @hatterripper31 @coffeeismylife28 @bunchofandoms @bobabucky @under-dah-sea @amrita31199 @sebstanthemanxo @mrs-brxghtside @erinvanlyssel @amistillmyself @buckyandsebsinbin @ballerinafairyprincess @spnhybrid @marvel-fanfiction @queen--valeskaxx @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @sophia-wyszkowski @sebstantrashx @kenobi-and-barnes @softwintersoldier @stevette60 @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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