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nouvxllev · 10 months ago

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how would you spend your valentines?

Pairing: J.O Characters x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which jo characters spend valentines with you

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: just fluff honestly

a/n: holy shit febs ending and im only posting this now. mb yall!!

masterlist

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horrid day

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.0k

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"Thing."

A loud thud was made from across the appendages cabinet, accompanied by a more louder door-slam and the menacing steps of combat boots that's probably worn from someone who looks too big for them came after.

Light appeared from his sight and it'd be much better if he died suffocated inside this damn cabinet rather than being forced to look at something, someone rather, being the next satan in line.

Wednesday stared at the hand, her grip on the knob tight as she watched Thing lie flat on the wooden surface, looking like he just got stabbed with something invisible.

"Accompany me to this ludicrous trip I have no idea why I planned for myself." Her tone was calm but it seemed like she was about to subtract one of his digits if he didn't comply.

'Why should I--'

The phrase 'seeing life flash before my eyes' would be an understatement for Thing when he was met with possibly the sharpest blade on earth crossing one of his thumbs.

"Thing you will accompany me or I swear to deities, I will force you to crawl to the depths of hell and its rings back and forth until you've reach exhaustion and blisters on your skin."

Her voice cut through his confidence, her blade almost puncturing a hole.

So slowly, he nodded. If he even can. He just nodded with his palm up straight and his fingers curled.

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And that's how Wednesday ended up on the busiest day on the street of Jericho, a hand not attached to her arm but walking on the damn sidewalk with a damn leash and a damned thought in her head.

If only it didn't seem like it was the day of giving every flower and chocolate someone could ever possibly find in a 10-mile vicinity of this horrid town then give it to you as some gift or whatever you called it, maybe she wouldn't be roughhoused more times than she could count by too many people on too many stores.

Wednesday scowled at everyone, even more at the couples who strolled in hand in hand, her fingers firmly gripping the leash that was attached to Thing.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered under her breath, shooting an irritated glance at Thing, who looked like he was trampled and being trampled to death. "Why did I even decide to follow through with this."

'Because you saw y/n holding a bunch of bouquets and you wanted to out-do everyone who ever gave her a flower because of some reason you don't know but it gives you a weird tingling sensation in your head to the point you want to be ranked first on the lists of serial killers,' Thing signed.

Wednesday kept walking, tugging at the leash. "Nonsense." She whispered to herself. Her voice softened a little bit, more vulnerable even as she looked forward. It didn't matter, nor did she care whether you got flowers, even the most extravagant ones didn't bother her. It didn't. It definitely did not.

But why did she even go here if it didn't?

"I am not trying to out-do anyone. I simply… want to make a statement." She stopped, her steps coming to a close while Thing raised what passed for eyebrows in his form.

Every shop inventory was sold out, even the shops that sold the flowers at an extremely high rate it'd be better if you bought a house at that point and crowds seem to lessen by the time Wednesday reached the last flower shop.

She could get chocolates, but why give you more chances of dying of diabetes?

'Wednesday, you know what you have to do.'

"Thing, please, do not." The grip on the leash explicitly tightened, almost as if she was going to rip the entire thing apart. She was standing strong with her shoulders still, but her mind was only one sign away to break down.

'You have to crochet a bouquet for y/n.'

She bent down and grabbed Thing by his wrists, clutching his body like it was the last thing on earth that was going to make her problems of a slight romantic gesture go away, her perfectly manicured nails digging onto his skin.

"I will find the nearest laboratory and pray to God there's an abundance of Promethium to douse you into," Wednesday hissed between clenched teeth. The tips of her fingers turned white as she paced back and forth, keeping Thing within sight, his body slumping from the lack of oxygen.

Thing repeatedly tapped on her thumb, his own nails scratching Wednesday's skin as a plead for mercy, his complexion turning white under Wednesday's firm grip. 'I'll help you! I'll help you,' he tapped, desperately.

Thing bounced to the floor after a suffocating release, extending his fingers out, noticing the young Addams' nails leaving faint imprints on his skin, even little cuts starting to form around them.

"Fine. I'll..." she stammered, her words drawing out as if she was disgusted by the mere thought and weighed down by hesitation, "I'll crochet a bouquet for y/n."

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You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you opened your locker to see probably a hundred polaroids of you drop to the floor and a hand-written letter laying flat on the surface with dried flowers.

It was safe to conclude that you were either, a, being stalked or, b, someone was planning your death and this was just a cute little 'one day notice' from the murderer.

But you knew it was from Wednesday. No sane person that wasn't an Addams wont write their letters so terrifyingly romantic and then send it in blood with their favorite flower species being black dahlia and probably a hex written to curse all your past and future generations if you don't comply.

You can handle a fuck ton of flowers to save a closing flower shop and a shit ton of chocolates to outdo Willy Wonka's own chocolate factory, but you definitely can not handle a possible fight between Wednesday Addams.

And that's why you're here now, at Wednesday's doorstep, your hand trembling against the doorknob, and your feet ready to bolt out of Nevermore and probably book a flight to whatever country you needed to escape her wrath.

"Wednesday, look, I don't know what I did to you or your family but I'm really so so so sorry!" You rambled, eyes closed as your voice trembled, turning the door just slightly until it fully opened.

The creak of the door echoed throughout the room and your mind, like it was playing tricks with you or something to amp up your fear.

You opened your eyes to find not a thousand knives surrounding you and a bomb threat immediately attached to a chair but rather Wednesday standing there with something wrapped around her fingers. Her expression was unreadable unlike the many times it wasn't to you.

"What are you apologizing for?" she finally spoke, her voice monotone as she walked up to you. She looked... almost nervous? You didn't know if it was a ruse or she was actually nervous.

"I... I don't know exactly," you stammered, "I just thought, you know, I might've done something to upset you, and I really didn't mean to."

Wednesday's eyebrows arched slightly, a crease forming in her forehead.

"Okay, look, if someone writes 'meet me where satan sits or I will cover your flesh in slits' in, what seems to be, their blood I can't really help it but apologize and be so damn terrified you know?!'"

Wednesday's expression softened slightly at your explanation, "Ah, yes, I can see how that might be… alarming to most people like you."

She held out what she had been clutching in her fingers, a crocheted small bouquet of flowers all tied together by a ribbon "I do sincerely apologize for the… slightly murderous approach." Wednesday Addams, apologizing? "I intended it a like to a gesture of affection people seem to be giving out these days, though I may have overdone it."

What is happening to the world?

You blinked. Blinked more than a hundred of times now ever since you entered the room. You were unsure if you were dreaming or Wednesday Addams was actually showing the tiniest bit of softness towards you. On valentines.

Mouth hung open, you took the bouquet from her hands, your skin grazing hers as she lowered her arms back to her sides. You knew Wednesday wouldn't be the one to crochet, let alone to any of this, but there was so much detail and effort put into the bouquet, it's hard to believe she did it all alone.

"Thank… thank you, Wends!" You smiled, beaming even, "kinda unexpected of you." You turned the bouquet over in your hands, examining every thread, "didn't know you were joining in this Valentines."

This would be fine. Just fine. Just two friends greeting eachother on Valentines, and giving flowers to them.

If you didn't have the biggest crush on Wednesday Addams yet.

You couldn't contain the grin that spread across your face till you actually looked at the bouquet in your hands, gripping it with such excitement. It was real. This moment was real, and you weren't stuck in a daydream you're having in class. This was actually happening.

"Why'd you do all of this?"

You looked at Wednesday who seemed to have her own confused expression, as if you caught her off guard.

"I don't... I don't know."

Maybe you'd take a risk after all this valentines.

You took a step forward, letting the bouquet drop to the ground where Thing was standing the whole time, assuming a companion of some sorts for Wednesday.

"Do you allow me to touch you?"

She nodded, you inched a little closer.

"Allow me to hold you?"

She nodded, her eyes furrowing and her body almost hesitating, you hold her as if she was something fragile given to you.

"Allow me to talk to you as such?"

She nodded, you whispered to her. Your tone was soft, yet it was filled with hesitation and fear of being pushed away.

"Allow me to hold your hand?"

She nodded, you reached out for her hand, intertwining your fingers with her own as if it was your own soul you were protecting from ivy.

"Allow me to say something I never think I'd say?"

She nodded, you tightened your grip on her, letting your thumb graze over her cold skin in contrast of your warmth.

"Allow me to love you so, so, dearly?"

She nodded, slowly. It wasn't a question, it was something more than that. An oath.

"And for you to love me back?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible if the both of you weren't so close enough already.

With your trembling hands holding Wednesday's palm, you cupped her face gently.

You allowed your eyes to cross every feature she had, your fingertips memorizing every contour of her face, allow them to be recognized to only you who seemed invested and let the world overlook her beauty, her soul through her dark eyes. As if you were seeing true beauty for the first time.

"May I?"

She was hesitating, she is hesitating. And, fuck, do you want to curse yourself for that.

"It doesn't have to be a kiss on the lips, Wednesday," you murmured softly, letting your words carry out with your actions, "We can take it slow at your pace. Whatever you're comfortable with, I'll do it."

You expected her to pull away, to maintain her usual stoic expression and distance. Yet, she didn't.

She leaned into your touch, her head finding a comfortable spot on your neck. Letting her eyes close, her breath going to your ears like a soft melody on a guitar, your worries slowly going away.

You stood there, holding Wednesday in an embrace you sure you wouldn't let go even if there was a force stretching you apart. Her heartbeat against yours, her arms slowly reciprocating the tightening grip you had on her, the faint smile that slowly graced her ever cold lips, it was nothing yet it was everything.

"I tolerate you." She muttered, her voice mumbled by your shirt yet somehow you heard everything.

A gentle chuckle escaped your lips, your other hand going above her head as you ran your fingers through her hair, "I tolerate you too, Wednesday."

It truly was a horrid day.

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cupid sucks so why not do the job for them?

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.0k

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You hear a door swing open, then a earsplitting slam echoed throughout the whole apartment, hell it even drowned the scream of some horror movie you were watching. Sounds of grumbling and loud stomping made it's way to you, an eerie aura you felt behind your back.

It's concerning how you almost immediately know it's Tara Carpenter.

"Welcome back I guess?" you greeted, a crease in your eyebrows as you turned to look at her, her back being the only thing you see. The potato chips you were about to eat stuck in the air for a moment of time.

The hell is that?

"Looks like cupid shot the wrong person," you chuckled, leaping over the couch to tug at a small arrow lodged behind her, a pop being heard as it came loose. "Why do you have this in your back?"

You hear Tara groan for the millionth time ever since she darkened her own doorstep, "Stupid fucks trying to get me into valentines when I'm clearly stressed about exams!" She turned around, snatching the arrow from your hands and snapping it in half without hesitation.

You flinched, "Aren't your exams not until March?" You jumped back into the couch, the soft cushion dipping as you laid down, your head turning back to the horror movie.

"Ugh, Tara, just tell her the truth," Mindy approached both of you from the kitchen, making her way to the you. "Have a little mercy and don't subject y/n to your lame excuses." She crossed her arms.

"What truth?" You sat up almost immediately, your head snapping to look at Tara with horrified eyes. "Is there something you've been keeping from me, Tara!? I thought we were best friends!" you shrieked.

Tara rolled her eyes, reaching out for your forehead and tipping it back down to the couch, "Dramatic."

Mindy excused herself, your legs retracting as you gave her space to sit beside you, "She's a little miserable because of a certain someone not giving her any valentines gift."

"Oh my God."

"You have a crush!?" You screamed. Almost happy, but then again, you were not. Definitely not happy. When the hell did this happen!?

"Please," Tara groaned, her eyes wrinkling as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "don't call it a crush."

"What the hell am I supposed to call it then?"

"Call it someone I admire," she made her way across the couch, her arms gesturing the both of you to move, "A little."

You hear Mindy give out a little scoff and chuckle, "You've been screaming into your pillow for the past four months of crushing on them."

"Why am I only hearing about this now!?" You exclaimed, a little hurt, yes, or it was more than a little hurt–finding out that the not-really-love-of-your-life-but-she-is-kinda is in love with another person was the type of blow on valentines day that made you want to reach up in the sky and strangle cupid.

Tara sighed, "Because I don't want you teasing me, especially you."

"Then how come Mindy gets to know?" you questioned her, your head leaning back against the armchair while your legs were sprawled on Tara's lap. "It's Min-dy, Tara!"

"I bribed her into telling me," Mindy chimed in with a casual shrug.

You have nothing to do with it nor do you have any right to, but you couldn't help it but feel a tinge of jealousy. People have to feel that emotion some times, right? You were only human, and this was just one of those moments where you'd get jealous for a somehow valid thing.

I mean, you were there when Tara healed from all her scars, you were there when she finally really talked with Sam, you were there when she got accepted into her dream college and even threw a celebration, you were there for Tara through thick and thin, and you never missed a birthday or a special event she had ever since you met her.

To sum it up: you were there for everything! How could some guy, who probably didn't even try as hard as you did, get Tara to fall in love with them!?

Your eyes gazed down to the lower corner of the TV, no longer paying attention to Mia Goth's stunning performance. You've watched this movie a hundred of times if not more, it was one of your favorites that Tara introduced to you next to the Babadook, so it was always an opening for conversations with her.

Now you could only imagine Tara and that, whoever it was, sitting on the same damn couch and talking about some stupid damn conversation and you just have to deal with it.

But it was fine. Tara had someone, someone she truly cared about, and that was a good thing. You were fortunate enough to witness her happiness with that person and have them as a constant presence in her life without any danger, that was a plus.

"Who are they anyway?" you grumbled, the words slipping out almost involuntarily before you could catch yourself.

The couch shifted slightly, Tara and Mindy exchanging knowing glances as you eyed both of them.

"Oh my God," you whispered in horror, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach, trying to face the truth even if it was meant to kill you. "Is it Chad!?"

Tara's face contorted into pure disgust, more disgust than ever while Mindy burst into a hearty laughter, "that is one of the most vile and revolting thing you have ever said to me, what the actual fuck y/n!?"

"Oh, you are disgusting!" Mindy laughed, throwing her head back as Tara's constant "ew" and her laugh filled the room.

"So if it isn't Chad, then who is it!?" You exclaimed, a slight smile coming from your lips as you watched them both.

"No way you're serious." Mindy raised an eyebrow, jumping off the couch and walking to her own room in the apartment, "I'll let the two of you figure this out!" She called out before you hear the door slam shut.

The silence was deafening. More deafening than having noise cancelling headphones jammed into your ears 24/7; it can be relaxing but it also can be so damn nerveracking.

You and Tara were always joined at the hip, no matter the situation was, the both of you almost always seemed to know what was a good conversation for the two of you.

Yet nothing good crossed your mind at this moment. By nothing good you mean having Tara namedrop her crush and have your life crashing down before your eyes.

"It.. it doesn't matter who you love or who is that special someone for you." You stammered, your voice cracking just slightly, hoping Tara wouldn't notice. "I'm just happy you have someone you admire and someone thats so lovely you want to be with them forever." Your fists were clenched as you continued, a soft smile graced your lips, sure, but hurt overcame everything.

"So I really want to get to know the sad and poor victim who had cupid hit Tara Carpenter square in the back," you laugh, turning to her.

You were expecting Tara to just go all in and scream in the top of her lungs her own love of her life and that she doesn't like you (optional).

Instead, she shot you with the most confused and offended look ever as if you just cursed her whole family bloodline through the most foulest of witchcraft thats dated wayback the 15th century.

"Who..." she started, her eyebrows creasing and her face twisting as if she was so done with you, "who else could it be but you!?"

what.

what hte fuck?? is she seirlous??? whathwhawthwhatwhatwhatwhatwhattheactualfuckishappening.

It was safe to say that your world froze. The tilt of the earth became an even number, a fraction maybe, the globes gravitational force flipping and rotating, the world spinning yet it stops every few seconds while your brain tries to process what the fuck just came out of Tara's mouth.

"Me?" you echoed, pointing a hand at yourself, your voice barely a whisper at this point, "you're insane... You're actually crazy."

Tara's expression softened slightly as she turned her whole body to you, her legs crossing and her eyes staring dead center right at you. "I don't want to sit here and just pretend I'm fawning over some guy so that you'd be better off not knowing I love you." She explained, "and I don't want to watch you treat me like any other friend you have when all I ever wanted is to be more than that."

Your mind raced, what was she saying? It was valentines, right? It's February the 14th and not April 1st. Sure, you considered the possibility of Tara liking you, but it was just because one of those manifestation videos you kept seeing on your page and you were too delusional for your own good!

"You can't be serious..." You laughed, chuckled even, taking all of this as a joke, "me? You like like me? Of all people, you chose me?"

Tara crossed her arms, letting out an eye roll and a scoff, "Yes, you! Who else could it possibly be but you? Am I talking to you through them, is that what you think?"

You stayed silent, mouth hung open but words just decided that it wasn't a great time to spill out.

"I... I understand if you don't like me the same way," she started after a while, "I just thought it'd be a great idea to confess now rather than any other day so--"

Tara's words trailed off, voice shaky, and you couldn't bear the thought of letting her finish the sentence with her saying something so foolish. Without another word that came out of her mouth, you closed the distance between the both of you and leaned in, capturing her soft with yours.

You never knew how her lips could be so addicting until today.

She responded eagerly after processing for a bit, her hands finding their way to your waist as she pulled your closer while you raised your hands and cupped her cheeks.

You can feel yourself melting within her body. Her breath was warm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, a feeling that made you think you were everything to her as you felt a smile coming loose from her lips.

She tasted like her perfume, her scent, her chapstick, her clothes, her everything. Her lips were soft, welcoming, and lovely. Tara was everything beauty was under if not more.

The kiss was soft but it lasted longer than it should've. Her palm flat on your waist, only bringing you closer and closer, the heartbeat and rush you felt when your bodies were pressed together like glue, the way Tara's hands grabbed you so possessively as if she'd die if she ever looses another second on your lips, it was perfect. She was perfect.

People fall in love with everything, their first love was nature. You were the same with the majority, you fell in love with everything you see. Your first sunset and sunrise, the first butterfly you saw, your friends, even your first crush. Everything you caught with your very own eyes; you fell in love.

Yet, they weren't your first love. Tara was.

And even if you get to see her everyday, her presence gracing your eyes every time you breath, every time you come alive for another day, you always seem to fall in love with her again and again with no fail.

It only made you so obsessed with her soul.

Now, you finally get to kiss your first love on the day of hearts.

When you finally pulled away, you wished you hadn't.

You looked into Tara's eyes and she looked in yours as she brought her hands to her lips, touching it slightly.

"I never knew," she whispered, smiling.

"I never realized," you admitted, your voice equally as soft as hers while a smile reflected hers.

You would admit, Cupid sucks at their own game. So why not do it yourself?

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cheers to a broken heart

Pairing: Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.4k

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"Hhaaaapppyyy V day, bitches!"

Vada shouted across the heart-littered and Valentines-illed cafeteria, tray in her hands as she approached your table.

The 14th of February

The day where couples unfortunately couldn't get scolded by any passing teacher whenever they show any excessive public affection in the school.

Everyone was either singing a song to someone, couples weirdly somehow getting it on without a teacher scolding them, confessing their love to their crush and getting rejected (which was honestly Vada's favorite past time for Valentines), and everyone being in a lovesick haze that'll only last two days, give or take.

Nick dropped his food on his own tray, sprinkling off bread crumbs from his fingers as he looked up at Vada. "It's your birthday?"

"Vagina day?" You chewed on your food with your left cheek, leaving room for coherent sentences, "Seriously, Vada?"

"Okay, first of all," Vada sat down, her tray making a loud metallic slam as she sat in front if you, "you have to catch me on some next level shit to scream happy vagina day out loud." She held up her hand as she turned to it, "And second of all, come on Nick! We've been bestfriends for ages and you don't even know my birthday isn't until maybe a few months"

"If only I could forget, maybe my wallet wouldn't be in total wreck, and I wouldn't have the urge to start printing money."

Vada shot back, adjusting her chair, "Then who else is going to pay for my stuff on my birthday?"

"You?" Nick suggested, eyebrows knitting themselves together.

"Aren't you the joker?" Vada retorted, an innocent smile tugging on her lips while Nick playfully scowled

You only stared a them, giving a few huffs of a laugh here and there, your hand mindlessly toying with your food while your other arm rests on the table, holding up your slanted face.

You couldn't eat, you could only stare at it and maybe push some vegetables around to make it look like you're eating. You couldn't really be in the right mindset to eat, let alone have the energy to strike up a conversation not after what happened just a few hours ago.

"You good?" Vada looked up at you, concern tainting her face and voice as she stopped eating all together, "You don't really look good."

Nick raised his fork, pointing at you, "She broke up with her boyfriend."

"What!?"

It was wrong. Very, very wrong, but Vada couldn't help the smile that was fighting for dear life not to show.

Holy fuck, this was the best valentines gift ever!

Not that she was happy that you just ended an almost a year relationship with your partner that probably loved you dearly, she just... She just thinks she can love you 10 times as harder.

You put down your fork in defeat, covering you face in your hands, "I don't know what to do... It just—" you stammered, words faltering, "It just came out so suddenly when we were talking."

Vada raised an eyebrow, "you just don't break up with someone out of the blue on valentines. Come on, dude." She tried to sound emphatic, but she was covering her smile like the damn good friend she is.

"I know!" you exclaimed, "I know... I don't know." You picked up your fork once again, "I think I'm in love with someone new, maybe that's why I broke up with him."

Maybe she spoke too soon.

"Nick?" She turned to him, slowly, "Can you join me to get some food?"

Nick chewed, side-eying her, "Your tray isn't even half done—"

"Nick." She inhaled a little too hard, gripping his wrist, "For the love of fucking God, please."

Nick winced while nodding vigorously, "Alright, alright! I'm coming, damn." The both of you stood up, pushing back your chairs while Nick gestured for you to wait.

"Okay," Vada stood in line, glancing back at the table, "who do you think y/n is in love with!? I mean, yeah, we shouldn't probably pry, but Nick, you know better than anyone else that I would literally die for me to be her girlfriend and you know damn well how many sleepless nights I've stayed up to pray for her boyfriends downfall!"

Nick crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Are you actually getting food, or are we just—"

"Of course we're not getting food! I'll just get some water, now, answer my question."

"Vada," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I do not know. If I did, I probably would've told you my thoughts at this point. Y/n hasn't shown any interest in anybody."

Vada nodded, her hand resting on her chin as the line moved, "Yeah, I guess theres that. But y/n is so secretive at times!"

Nick sighed, grabbing Vada by the shoulders and excused people out of the way, "V, just ask her or maybe give her time. She's in a state of a break-up right now."

Vada and Nick returned to the table, Vada looking done as ever and Nick returning to eat his food.

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It was either Vada has gone insanely mad or she's just trying to do a friendly gesture by selling out every single flower and chocolate shop that Jericho has established and plans to give them all to you to cheer you up just a slight bit. And maybe let you see she was the one of you after all.

Friendly, maybe not so, but inane is on the mark. She just wants to make you happy!

It was already after class, an hour after to be precise, and she was waiting outside for you, phone in hand as she leaned against her car while a luggage—no—a semi-truck of bouquets and chocolates awaited for you in the back seat.

You exited the building, your own phone in your hand as you looked for Vada's bug-eyed car that she bought with her birthday money that Nick contributed atleast 70% of it, wind caught up in your hair as you finally see Vada in the distance, waving to you like she was just some idiot.

The very sight was a sight for sore eyes, endearing even. Her antics always brought a smile to your face at the end of the day, and her very person bringing unwanted butterflies in your stomach. But you wouldn't admit that. You wouldn't admit that Vada was the reason why you broke up with your boyfriend in the first place.

Vada's smile only widened more as you approached her, the small figure waving to you in the distance. You can practically feel her happiness. "I'm surprise you agreed so fast."

"Thought I needed some time to myself after a horrible breakup," you replied, walking over to the passenger seat right in the front while Vada got into the driver's seat.

"By time to myself do you mean time with the amazing and pretty cool Vada Cavell and her car?" She closed the door behind her, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she hooked her legs onto your lap once you were both seated.

You rolled your eyes playfully, letting out a slight scoff, "you're too insufferable for your own good."

Silence overtook her parked car, the outside wind being the only sounds that weren't drowned by the ringing in your ears, but it was the nice type of silence. It was the type of silence that made you feel like you were nothing, a spec of dust even, yet you were having the time of your life with the person you love the most beside you.

Your seat was adjusted to lay back while Vada leaned against the tinted windows with her legs sprawled on top of your lap, probably smoking a joint by the faint smell of weed and ashes filling her car.

You could feel her legs moving, her body sitting up and digging for something in her pockets.

"Vada, you know that I—"

"You don't smoke, yes," Vada's voice, surprisingly low and soft, cut you off. "I get that, I really, really do, and I am all for not breaking your lungs ahead of time." She pulled out a plastic ziplock bag that contained something… a bit more colorful than the regular blunts you'd see.

"…Buuuut," she continued, unlocking the zipper and pulling out the makeshift blunt by her two fingers, "I got you this blunt made up of fruit roll-ups! The inside of it is popping candy. Courtesy of yours truly." She grinned, passing you the candy, "Can't really puff, puff, pass that but it's something you gotta try."

"You're fucking insane, V," you laughed as you shook your head, taking the candy from her hands and putting it against your lips, "it's delicious anyway."

She shrugged, leaning back yet again, "told you so."

It didn't take long for the candy to disappear from your fingers almost immediately, the sweet taste lingering on your tongue, the candy still somehow popping in your ears.

"How do you cut a sandwhich, horizontally or diagonally?" Vada broke the profounding silence, exhaling a puff of smoke as she took the blunt off her lips.

You sat up immediately, a lift in your eyebrows as you looked at her with a concerned grin, "Oh, you are high high."

"Don't overthink it," She sat up, tapping off the ash into the nearby tray beside her floor console, remnants of smoke trailing upwards as she discarded the cig entirely, "Just say whatever comes to your mind."

She intertwined her legs with yours as you both sat up, her arms coming to her knees as she repeated, "Horizontally or diagonally?"

"Horizontally, of course, why would I—"

"Coke or pepsi?"

"Coke."

"Do you pour cereal or milk first?"

"Cereal."

"Why did you break up with your boyfriend?"

"Because I'm in love with you."

"Oh." Shit.

Your eyes widened, if only you were quick to shut your brain and mouth out, or maybe better yet, be both deaf and blind.

It was an understatement to say that panic replaced all your blood cells with the word itself, wishing so damn desperately to take back your words as if it would erase this moment in time and create a new one.

"Oh fuck," you whispered, your other hand ready to completely buck out of her car and sprint to no mans land, or maybe kill yourself. That seemed like the better option out of the others.

"Vada I—" You stammered. The car definitely felt smaller, heavier even. Like it was going to implode within a second. Your lips slightly parted as if you were about to say something, wanted to say something, but nothing came.

"Okay, look—" she gulped, raising her hands, the usual animated gesture while she explained herself.

"I'm… sad? Okay, not sad, that's the truth, you deserve to know it. But!" She exclaimed,, words coming out in a rush, "That's… okay? Not okay for you or for him but it's—" She paused to take a deep breath before continuing, taking your hand with hers, "I finally get to do something I've wanted to do for a very long time without some kind of big consequence."

Vada's fingers traced patterns on the back of your hand, a silent way of asking for permission, a way that made you felt important to the point you almost missed the glint in her soft eyes and a tug on her mouth.

She reached out and gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head a bit, the simple warmth from her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your breath catching in your throat as you looked at her with pure eyes, listening.

"Would it be okay?" She whispered, hesitance evident in her voice, "would it be alright if I…"

Before she could even finish her sentence, you brought your hand up to hers flat on your cheek. With a gentle tug, you pulled her closer with your free arm, the softness of her lips melting against yours as you met them in a gentle kiss.

Both of your hands move over to her shoulders, messaging them slightly as you welcomed Vada's tongue into your mouth, your body tensing almost immediately yet softening when she removed her hands from your face and dragged them down to your waist, pulling you impossibly close to her.

Her lips were gentle, soft, and tender, smiling under yours. She tasted like chapstick mixed with cigarettes, a faint smell of the joint she smoked yet she still smelled so enchanting. You don't know how she does it.

You almost whined when Vada pulled away, familiar eyes staring right back at you. But they looked new. It was filled with love, endearment even, or maybe fondness.

She never looked more beautiful.

It only took a minute of silence before Vada realized what happened. "Are we—are we girlfriends? Well, we just kissed, I mean, I know that, but are we girlfriends girlfriends? I never had a girlfriend before, have you? I mean I guess you did but never a girlfriend. Ohmygod, am I your first girlfriend, holy fuck this really means—"

You laughed before planting a simple kiss on her lips, "Vada, as much as I love your rambling, please don't ruin this moment." You cupped her cheeks, your eyes tracing every single feature she carried.

"Yeah," she nodded, another smile on her mouth, "yeah." She laughed as she shook her head.

"Wait," She stopped you, her hands doing a stop gesture, "but this just technically means that I'm just a rebound? Oh, God, I don't wanna be known as that girl who got with you just hours after you broke up with your boyfriend! What if everyone flames me for it!? Y/n, I love you but wouldn't this ruin your reputation too!? What if they say you cheated on your boyfriend, what if—"

You rolled her eyes and kissed her yet again, "I don't think having a fuck ton of chocolates and flowers stuck inside the backseat of your car and having me in the passenger seat would help your thinking."

"That doesn't really help my situation." She tilted her head, eyebrows creasing.

"I'm saying that we'll keep it hidden, even if you'd be one itch away from telling everyone we're together."

"I wont tell, I promise!" Vada saluted, she always does that. Even before a pinky promise, a salute is always needed.

Not that you didn't feel bad about breaking up with your boyfriend out of the blue, it's just a simple problem that'll lead to a celebration for a broken heart.

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

a/n: this was long overdue, sorry i posted it so late!! just seemed like writers block missed me a little bit too much.

#wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x female reader #vada cavell x you #jenna ortega

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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

Text

Porcelain Steve

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Eddie is, perhaps, the only person who seems to be handling the fact Steve has been turned into a porcelain doll in a level-headed sort of way. Probably because he's the newest person to be privy to Upside Down shenaniganary and quiet honestly just thought 'ah. Of course. Why wouldn't something like this be possible?' instead of freaking out and screaming like everyone else.

"It's a physical impossibility, Robin!" Dustin shouts.

"Well, we thought monsters didn't exist before, but guess what-" Robin is shouting back.

"The monster situation was scientifically plausible, now proven scientifically true! Transforming a living person into a doll is magic, and magic isn't real!"

"It fucking is now! Look at Steve!! Look at him!" Robin, who is holding Porcelain Steve, shakes him in Dustin's face, complete with the clack of porcelain on porcelain.

Eddie isn't even fully aware he moved from his spot on the couch in the Byers-Hopper living room until he's snatching Steve out of Robin's hands with the thought of 'he gets migraines too easily for you to shake him like that' and then is left wondering if little Porcelain Steve can get migraines. "Stop waving him around like a flag, Buckley. Porcelain is fragile, you could break him."

It's a testament to how worried Robin really is about breaking Steve that she doesn't instantly rip him back out of Eddie's hands like she had when Nancy had first picked him up.

"We don't even know that's Steve," Dustin has never been gracefully about potentially not being right and now is no different.

"I know that, Henderson!" Eddie snaps, pulling Steve to his chest in a protective two armed hug, "But wouldn't you feel like shit if this is Steve, somehow magically changed, and we've accidentally murdered him by busting his little porcelain face?"

That brings Dustin to a pause and Robin starts up again, backed by Will now.

Eddie retreats, not back to the couch, but out the front door and away from the arguments. Aside from hating the sound of people yelling at each other himself, he doesn't want Steve to hear it either. Steve only enjoys an argument he can be bitchy in, and he can't really participate.

That is, if Steve can even hear anything. If this is actually Steve changed, and not just the creepiest ransom threat left in the form of a perfectly porcelain replica. Down to the moles on his face and the scars on his torso, which Robin had claimed felt like paint when she'd ran a shaking finger over them.

He sits down gently in the front lawn, crisscrossing his legs and lays Steve in the cradle they create. Blank hazel eyes stares up unblinking into the sun and Eddie finds himself hovering a hand above Steve's face to... protect his eyes, he supposes. He'll admit to feeling a little embarrassed about doing it -anyone walking down the street could see him shielding the eyes of a doll in his lap- but if Steve is trapped in there, can see out those eyes, well, he'd rather do the kind thing and be little embarrassed about it.

"Don't know if you can hear or not, Harrington," Eddie says, "but worry not. If anyone can figure out how to return you to your flesh prison, it's this crew. Not that you need my assurance on that. You know what they're capable of better than I."

It's quiet on the front lawn except for the occasional car rolling down the street or dog barking somewhere down the road. Eddie's never been a fan of quiet, so he talks to fill the silence. Not about anything really important. He recaps the current Dungeons and Dragons campaign he's running for Hellfire, which has been relocated to Jeff's dining room for the summer.

"And Will, very smart strategist that one, delayed his turn in initiative -that's the order they take turns in in combat- to cast Fireball in the room once everyone had run out of it. Worked great, especially since several of the creatures were invisible at the time and-" Eddie goes on, interrupting his own story to explain mechanics, or spells, or give backstory on why something was important, so that Steve wouldn't be too confused about everything. It probably all still sounds like a foreign language to him, or he's just tuned Eddie out, but Eddie would like to think that Steve would appreciate it.

Eddie sits outside long enough for his butt to go numb and for the sun to shift lower in the sky before he hears the front door open and close and Robin sits herself down next to Eddie.

"Come to some sort of agreement yet?" Eddie asks, turning his face towards Robin.

"No," Robin sighs, reaching a hand out. At first, Eddie thinks she's going to take Steve but she just pets at his hair for a moment before pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "El's got an idea, though. Don't know why we didn't think of it sooner. She's going to try and find Steve, y'know, with her mind. Someone will come let us know what she discovers, so no rush to head back in."

"Oh," Eddie replies dumbly, looking from Robin down to Steve. They sit quietly for a few minutes before Eddie says, "Is it wrong of me to hope that this is Steve?"

"Depends on why you hope that's Steve, I guess."

"'Cause then we know he's safe," Eddie says softly, almost a whisper. "'Cause if this is Steve then he's not... not kidnapped somewhere, alone, maybe being beaten up or tortured or- those things happen far too often."

"Then no. It's not wrong to hope. I think right there in your lap is probably the safest place Steve's been, well, ever."

"I don't know Buckley, he was pretty safe in your hands."

"I shook him around like a ragdoll, Munson," Robin levels him with a look, "I'm woman enough to admit I get caught up in my nerves and don't think of consequences. I'm not, like, the number one klutz or anything but it didn't even occur to me that we could really hurt Steve until you said it. Like, what if what happens to the doll actually happens to Steve? What happens if his arm shatters or-" she cuts herself off to pull in a shaky breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to Steve," Eddie says, voice more confident than he truly feels but comforting Robin is important. Steve usually grounds her with some bitchy look and sarcastic phrase but he's not close enough to Robin for him to be sure he wouldn't just be insulting her instead of joking. "I won't let anything happen. You won't. No one in that house would."

A deep breath from Robin, then, "yeah. You're right. You hear that Steve? We've got you, and nothing's going to happen to you except becoming a real boy again."

Eddie huffs out a laugh and sits in the quiet with Robin, waiting to be called back inside once El has made contact with Steve.

#steddie #my fic #inspired by that poll #porcelain steve #one shot (?)#why do i do this to myself? dont i have enough WIPs out in the world?#platonic soulmates

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 months ago

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You mentioned a few times that you didn’t like Book 7, both from an analysis standpoint and from a structure/pacing standpoint. If you haven’t done so already, do you think you can do a whole post on all your grievances on Book 7?

I never really made a comprehensive post I think.

Like, I mentioned some stuff under the Deathly Hallows tag here, but generally, it seems to me like book 7 made up a lot of new rules about magic that weren't built up earlier. Like people being able to supposedly learn Parseltongue.

In addition to forgetting magic that was already established. Like, I get JKR wanted the trio hungry and miserable, but even if they can't conjour food, they could summon it, steal it under the invisibility cloak, hunt it/fish it? Like, go to a river band and say "accio fish". Something Ted and Dean actually do when they're on the run in book 7:

“There ought to be a few salmon in here, or d’you reckon it’s too early in the season? Accio Salmon.” There were several distinct splashes and then the slapping sounds of fish against flesh. Somebody grunted appreciatively.

(DH)

Like, I don't get why the main trio couldn't do that. That's all just one example.

I'm not even going to touch what I think about the wandlore in this book since it changes the rules about wands so much.

In terms of characterization, I think Ron's character suffers the most. Like, Ron is written dumber in this book than in any other. He leaves Harry and Hermione and erases his character arc 7 books in. It just, shouldn't have gone like this.

Book 7 is the only one of the books where the trio feels similar to how they are in the movies. With Ron and Harry being a bit useless (especially Ron) and staring in awe at how smart Hermione is. And Hermione seems to be the only one knowing what's up and wanting to push this quest forward while they're camping in the woods. This isn't their dynamic at all up to this point, and the entire camping in the woods section portrays them in this way.

It's not in the entire book too, just like in sections (which makes me feel JKR wrote them very separately, but I digress) — but I hate it.

Like, in general, the character arcs are not really there. At least, not the way I would've liked them to be. I already mentioned Ron who regressed in his arc to something he never was in the books, but it still felt like a regression. Hermione was basically stripped of a lot of her more ruthless streak. Like, Hermione of GoF or OotP would've been willing to steal food to keep them alive. Sure, these people didn't deserve to be stolen from, but she would've understood the necessity. Hermione of book 7 feels off to me, like, she's supposed to be the morally right one more often than not and it feels jarring when the trio had a more equal dynamic up to this point. At least outside of the camping bits she isn't always right in general. Like, Harry still has his incredible instincts Hermione belittles but he ends up being right. That is character-accurate

Harry as well, like, he has some great moments. His doubts about Dumbledore and how it clashes with Hermione's blind faith in him is a great character arc for them and I love it. I just feel that Harry's conclusion of not doubting Dumbledore because he was sick of doubting and how he got to it fell a little flat for me. Also, Harry casts two unforgivable curses easily in this book, and just, no one reacts to it? Not even him? Like, this could've been a fascinating arc and a way better point of contention between the trio than the fucking lack of food. Like, to open the question Lupin brought up at the start of the book, "How far is too far in war?" like, that theme is there, but, like, bubbling beneath the surface.

And I'm not the first to mention how bizarre it is that Hermione cooks when Harry spent years cooking at the Dursleys while Hermione's got no clue what she's doing.

I also feel like more should've been done with the Horcruxes. Like, with how great of a villain the diary was in book 2, it just feels like wasted potential. I wanted more from the locket and the cup and we didn't get time with the diadem at all. I would've liked maybe more of a showcase of cool magical protections on the cup, maybe, and, like, delving deeper into magical theory the way Dumbledore had to to understand the locket's cave. Idk, I just wish there was more.

The Deathly Hallows themselves are another thing. Like, I feel they or the elder wand should've at least been mentioned prior to this book if they were the plan all along. Like, have someone comment Dumbledore won the allegiance of his wand when he defeated Grindlewald or something. Like, a little hint. Because I love the concept of the Deathly Hallows themselves (and Dumbledore's backstory is great and makes complete sense to me with what we know of his character), I just feel the Deathly Hallows the book is literally named after aren't that big of a deal in the book. Like, most of the book should be called "Harry Potter and the Hunt for Horcruxes", the Deathly Hallows, which, again, I love, feel more like an afterthought.

I did like the theme of grief and death that existed throughout the book and it felt in line with talk of things like the Resurrection Stone. I love that that's the hallow Harry chose (actually I like that scene and which hallow each of the trio chose). Like, Harry and Hermione going to Godric's Hallow was great. Harry's grief and pain were amazingly written there. It's one of my favorite parts of the book and I loved seeing the messages of support left for Harry to show what is going on with the rest of the world. I could've done without the super convoluted plan of having Nagini wait there, that made literally no sense, I don't know why Voldy thought that was a good idea.

The romance is another weak point in this book. Since I don't like how Ron and Hermione are written (I think their dynamic was at its most compelling in GoF) and I don't like Harry and Ginny's romance in any book, but book 7 is bad for them. Like, hinny fans talk about how sweet it is for Harry to look at the map to look for Ginny, but he doesn't open the map for Ginny, he does it for Ron:

Meanwhile Harry had started bringing out the Marauder’s Map and examining it by wandlight. He was waiting for the moment when Ron’s labeled dot would reappear in the corridors of Hogwarts, proving that he had returned to the comfortable castle, protected by his status of pureblood.

(DH)

And that's what leads him to see Ginny and look at her name, but he didn't open the map for her, she just happened to be there.

Similarly, when they arrive at Hogwarts, Harry is reacting to Luna more than to Ginny. And Ginny doesn't trust him enough to send him with Cho to Ravenclaw which is so stupid (I just read that scene last night and I have grievances). Like, Harry didn't even want to kiss Cho when he thought he had a crush on her, Ginny has literally nothing to worry about.

I also would've loved to see more of Voldemort. Whenever Harry goes into Voldemrot's mind it's great to see what he and occasionally the Death Eaters are up to. I would've liked more Voldemort for the final book. (If the Horcruxes weren't so underused we could've had more Voldemort, or, at least, pieces of him)

Then there's the pacing. Now, I think I'm in the unpopular minority who likes the wedding scene. I just love Aunt Muriel. She's such a vibe, and I love her gossip. And there are a lot of other scenes I like. I like breaking into the ministry, I love all of Dumbledore's backstory. Everything once they get to Hogwarts gets better. I actually don't like the Gringotts Heist much (as I reread it recently), and the scenes in Shell Cottage leading up to it, but that's my opinion.

And like, that's the thing about book 7 and its pacing that makes it kind of a mess.

There are sections I love that are well-written and fun. Like, the high notes from book 7 are pretty high (this is why I like it more than book 1. Philosopher's Stone is much more cohesive and has better pacing and character work, but the high notes of Deathly Hallows are much better than the high notes of Philosopher's Stone). The problem is that they feel much more disjointed than they usually do. And, like, the whole flow isn't there. The book doesn't flow.

Reading book 7 is like driving at high speed down a road, and then you get stuck in traffic for an hour and then the road magically clears up, like all the other cars disappear in a snap and you're hurtling in speed again and then BAM another traffic jam that appeared out of nowhere. Instead of having the ebb and flow the books usually have, where you go from one plot point to another relatively with ease, book 7 feels like you start, then have to stop, then start again. The different levels of quality and slightly off shifts in characterization between sections also add to this start-stop-start feel I mentioned. Like, the book just doesn't feel cohesive enough.

Then, of course, there is the epilogue, but I already talked about my problems with it (here and here).

That's like, the things that bothered me most in this reread, I think.

#harry potter #hp #hollowedrambling #deathly hallows #harry potter and the deathly hallows #anti hinny #i guess

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reallyromealone · 1 year ago

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Ok ok can you PLS do a part 2 of that ‘resilient’ Eddie fic I NEED to know what happens😭 (If your requests are open) -🥮

Title: resilient

Chapter: 2

Fandom: stranger things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x male reader

Warnings: mentions of rape, angst, omegaverse, mpreg, reader goes through it, breakdowns

Notes: this took way longer than expected

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

"uncle Steve!" (Sons name) giggled as he was lifted by the older alpha "you ready to hang out today!" Steve said to his god son who nodded "yeah!" The boy said as (name) handed Steve a cute backpack "you be good alright ducky?" (Name) squished his sons face playfully and kissed his forehead "I will!"

(name) was thankful for his dad, Hopp doing anything he could to help his grandkid and used the daycare that came with being the police chief for their kid till he gets to kindergarten.

Though Hopp would have liked if his kid and grandkid moved back with him, (name) would be able to save better.

"(Name) I know you want to be independent but think about saving money, that money can be used for anything (sons name) needs or wants" hopp reasoned with his son and (name) fidgeted with the mug "you really want me back don't you?" He asked quietly, the older man nodding at his pup and (name)s eyes watered "I just want my pup to be safe!" He said and Hopp felt his heart ache at his son and set the mugs down and held him close as (name) sobbed "don't worry (cute childhood nickname) I got you"

"We moving?" (Sons name) asked curiously as he sat in his grandpa's lap, hop letting the little guy take some of his fries, (name) letting his dad buy them dinner "I need some help so you guys will be moving with me, you think you can help me squirt?"

"Yeah!"

Eddie was a mess.

His... His sweet (name)...

"Holy shit dude, are you alright?!" Dustin wanted to gag at the smell of alcohol as Eddie sat on the floor, eyes tear stained "he was raped, he was raped and I just fucking treated him like shit" Eddie said emotionless as he stared off "he was pregnant with my kid, did you know that? No fucking doubt he's mine... He's literally me"

Dustin halted as Eddie let his head fall onto his knees, holding back a sob.

"I need to go to Hawkins..."

(Name) was banned from helping move their belongings, assigned to keeping his pup company and ordering lunch "papa get chicken chunk" (sons name) whispered and (name) smiled "sure baby" he added it to the order along with pizza, wings and drinks (and garlic bread for Robin). (Sons name) was excited to have a bigger room just for him, (name)s childhood room turned into the pups bedroom with a cool (cartoon/game) bedspread from his grandpa and (name) got the guest room, all his trinkets I'm there. "Chicken chunks? Aren't you already my little chicken chunk, half pint?" Hopp teased as the pup stuck his tongue out playfully at his grandpa, the adults smiling at this interaction.

Dinner, bath and bedtime were all it took as (name) sat alone in his bed staring up at his ceiling as the sound of the clock in the kitchen ticked.

Here he was.

Back Home, in his childhood home with his dad and pup.

Sitting up be walked to a small shoe box he brought in himself, opening it to reveal trinkets, photos and letters, picking up a photo of everyone together and happy as teens.

He glared at nancys annoying face, he saw her a few times around Hawkins when she visited family but never interacted with her and she didn't interact with him, she ruined his life and he kind of hoped she would drop dead.

(Name) didn't grocery shop with his son, he didn't need the boy hearing how people talk about him being a single parent, the snide comments and rude remarks as he tried to make himself invisible under the florescents as his sneakers tapped against the older linoleum.

"Did you hear? Eddie "the freak" Munson is back"

"Yeah, he's like super rich, maybe I can get a sugar daddy"

"But spending time with the freak? Is it worth it?"

(Name) froze as he looked at the nutritional values of two cereals, throat closing up at this information he heard.

Eddie was back?

Why?

He tried not to think about the letters, the emails and messages or the letter he had gotten in the mail a few days after the last email he sent from Eddie's lawyer's, threatening legal action if he doesn't stop trying to contact Eddie with the threat of a restraining order, he took that as Eddie's answer to the concept of meeting his son.

Snapped from his thoughts and continued his shopping, trying not to let anxiety flood him.

He was probably visiting his uncle, the uncle who despised (name) with every fiber of his being-- even publically shaming him for his "whorish behavior" when he saw (name) not long after the breakup, solemnly believing that the fetus inside of (name) was the product of his "cheating" thus till the rape investigation came to light and Eddie had long been gone from town everyone thought he was a cheating slut.

Yeah (name) totally toootally moved on from that, the Alpha who treated him like one of his own turning and Screaming at him to the point of (name) nearly drooping.

Totally...

He wonders if the band came with, thinking of how many people he has to avoid... He wonders if Dustin was with him.

His little sisters friend-- well once friend, Jane burning all communication with Dustin after the young beta made his bed.

He should call her sometime... The girl currently at university with his step brother Will, will was crushed that his best friends did that to (name) and just cut ties with the whole group-- save for Steve and Robin.

"(--me)" "(--ame)!"

"(NAME!)" (name) snapped to look around, when did he get home? The Omega was putting away groceries as his dad looked concerned "I take it you heard?"

"I- yeah... I did..." (Name) said meekly as he fiddled with a container of coffee "do you... Do you think you could pick up (sons name)? I need to start dinner" their code for "I really need time to process and don't have the capacity for anything else right now" and the older alpha pat his sons back "I got you bite size" he said as he went to go get his grandkid "you know no matter what, I got your back right? You can depend on your dad"

"Thanks dad..." (Name) said with a soft, sad smile before he was alone in the house to think.

"Maybe I should go on that blind date Robin was talking about"

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #omega male reader #omegaverse #angst #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x male reader #stranger things angst #eddie munsin angst

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ananiel · 7 months ago

Note

Hi I was wondering if you could could do something with Yandere MTP if that’s alright, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.

I was wondering if you could do something with Yandere Mycroft, William, and Albert (separately) with a darling who is kinda like a wallflower in society, like they are super shy and don’t stand out much at all but like because of that they pick up on the things people say, secrets that she shouldn’t know that could even potentially put her in danger making her even more scared.

Of course you don’t have to do this, any way I live your work and I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Yes. If course, i Will do this in between my other works! Hope that it ends up to your liking!

Yander!Mtp x reader

Yandere William james moriarty x reader

Yandere! Albert james moriarty x reader

Yandere Mycroft holmes x reader

Tw : yandere themes, stalking, manipulating, kiddnapping. Read at your own risk!

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

Oh You, such a pretty and unseen being by the eyes of many.

Yes, not many know anything about You, but You, You know almost everything about everyone.

You are the always quiet, always shy individual that people don't seem to notice, don't seem to think You matter enough to hide from you, You are practically invisible, but this invisibility brought You to this Point.

You didn't want to, You never planned to, but somehow, You heard a very big guvernamental secret that You were not supposed to.

And when You were about to go, the eyes were turned to You. You imediatly started running and hid as they continued to Chase You.

From then on, Your shyness could be only described as paranoia, one that makes You not want to be seen, by anyone. Of course, staring to dress very covered would draw more attention. So You made just little changes, some that could just make You regonisble for The people You are close with but not to those people

But

He saw You, he saw everything, he's been seeing this invisible You for a while, and oh, how infatiuated he was with You

His little wallflower, trying your hardest to stay away from all of the world

But not away from him.

You noticed a man seemingly always being there, and thinking he was an assasin, You tried to avoid those places.

For a while he stopped

Or so You thought.

Mycroft Holmes

He knew about You, always did, to be fair he is the guvernement, he knows everything about everyone, so it would be only fair that he knows everything.

But to be fair... You are the only one that he takes the files of at home, the only one that he studies every step off...

You were so shy and cute... He couldn't imagine anyone else as a better lover for You than him. He just can't, it is almost like it hurts him.

Of course, he doesn't directly stalk You,he sends someone else to.

Your panicked face is just so cute...

Can You blame him for manipulating the situation so that You come to him, crying?

Can You blame him for telling You to come to his home to "protect" You from the stalker?

Can You blame him for putting something in your Tea so that You don't leave?

Albert james moriarty

He was the one to stalk You at the order of Mycroft, who was afraid that You would spill important secrets of Englad.

He was, at first, skeptical, because not only did You look like You wouldn't hurt a fly, You looked like You would be hurt by one.

IT started slow, entering only a little, learning where You shop, looking over your file... Yes, he won't lie, that little scared expresion of being followed..

Ha... You were so cute... He followed You everywhere...

He inserted himself in your group, of the people that You talk.

One of them got killed...

The other is sick...

Another one doesn't talk and was later sent to jail.

You were left alone, with no one in the world... So he can Just... Wisk You away...

William james moriarty

He saw You at the noahtic, shining in the corner, like a hidden gem, hiding from the eyes of many.

You met his eyes, and turned away, unsure of what to think of him, unsure if he was going to hurt You because of what You just heard

He was about to go to You, but You dissapeared in the crowd.

He couldn't see You, and that angered him for some reason...

Later, when Albert came home, he learned your name, and as much as he can

But it wasn't enough, no, not for him, he wanted more, he wanted You... For information purposes, of course.

That's why he follows You, because You are good for his plans

No other reason, no, of course not

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #william james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x reader #mtp x you #mycroft holmes x reader #yandere moriarty the patriot #yandere mtp #yandere moriarty the patriot x reader #yandere william james moriarty #yandere albert james moriarty #Yandere Mycroft holmes #Yandere William james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x reader #mtp mycroft #mtp william #mtp x reader

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rita-repulsa-ke · 2 months ago

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jealousy

post-finale, set in the past. Death is a jealous lover, they are both exceedingly petty. They are doing their normal fighting and flirting thing, maybe a bit more fighting. This is probably PG-13.

Going with two headcanons, that Death can’t kill people directly and that Agatha and Death have a deal where Agatha kills for her to keep herself alive, thus the murders.

Also Agatha speaks incredibly anachronistically on purpose, because she should be able to.

In 1780, Agatha takes a woman to bed.

No one who matters, a younger woman she passes on the street, doubles back to compliment the sewing on her dress, and then to compliment the blush on her cheeks. She forces herself listening to the girl's concerns about her upcoming nuptials, plies her with beer and sympathy until finally she gets her bodice off and things proceed from there as they have for the centuries before and will for the centuries after.

Her plaything has run off home when the air currents in the room change and the scent of grave dirt fills the room. Agatha, lying naked on the bed, opens her eyes, her expression twisting to one of malevolent, contemptuous hatred, and looks up at Death.

"Oh," she says. "It's you."

"I want her," Rio says with no precursor, motioning in the vague direction of the door and presumably the girl who had recently exited through it.

"Sure," Agatha says, easing up to sitting, reaching for her clothes, aware of the way she is being stared at, hungry, possessive. "I don't mind if you have my sloppy seconds."

"Agatha," Rio complains, because they both know Agatha is being purposefully uncooperative. "I want her dead." She slices her knife lazily through the air, a slow cut across an invisible throat.

"Do it yourself then," Agatha says, then gasps in mock-shock. "Oh, but that's right, you can't! It isn't her time. That's too bad for you, I'm so sorry."

Rio rolls her eyes. "I'll let you skip the next tithe."

Agatha stops and considers that. It's a good offer. That's time she could use for things other than finding and killing a coven of witches, time for her own personal projects, of which she was many. And it would be easy, she wouldn't even have to watch. There's hair all over her pillow, one of those and the right spell and the woman will sicken and die by morning.

She should say yes. It's just that she's very, very petty.

"Nope. Don't feel like it. She wasn't that bad in bed, honestly. Better than you ever were," she says, hopping into her pants, still shirtless and aware of where Rio's eyes are.

Look all you want, she thinks, you'll never get to touch. It's a stupid, small, petty victory, how much Death wants and can't have her, but such little victories are some of the few joys left to her.

"You're so immature," Rio murmurs and Agatha snorts.

"I'm getting better. Remember when I went through my bad boy phase?"

Rio studies her, head tilted to one side, hip cocked, aggressive and deadly, but Agatha isn't worried. Death can't touch her. There are rules.

And then Rio has her down on the bed, straddling her, the knife against her abdomen and Agatha remembers the fine print of those rules.

Rio can't take her life, but there's nothing stopping her from causing Agatha pain. And that knife is positioned in a way that could cause quite a bit of pain.

"Reconsider," Rio says, looking down at her with unnerving adoration.

"Hey, when we're talking about immature, can we talk about your sudden desire to have me kill the first woman I've had in my bed since—" she stops what she might have said, self-corrects. "In thirty years?"

In answer, Rio trails her fingers over Agatha's neck, down to her collarbone, but no further. Agatha finds herself wishing she had gotten her shirt on before they'd ended up like this. Those warm fingers on her skin evoke memories she could do without.

"Mine," Rio says. "All mine. No one else touches you."

Agatha bursts into snorting laughter, quickly restrained by the blade indenting her skin. "Wow, this is incentive to turn into the biggest slut possible. Feel free to do your creepy lurking, though. Watch all you want." Her hand cups Rio's cheek and with great care, she levers herself up on her elbow. "Miss me, baby?"

"Yes," Rio says, turning lighting-quick, pressing a kiss to Agatha's palm. Agatha jerks her hand back, wipes it on the bed with the expression of someone who squashed a bug barehanded.

"Ew," she complains, and okay, maybe Rio is right and she is petty, but the flicker of real fury in Rio's eyes, behind the more obvious exasperation, is very rewarding.

Then the knife bites in, sends a trickle of blood down her stomach and she hisses in pain. "Do what I want," Rio singsongs. "Or take your medicine."

"How about option C?" Agatha snarls, magic slamming into Rio's chest, throwing her across the room. She scrambles up, snatches her shirt, but has to shield against the next attack before she can put it on. Black tendrils of magic try to find a way around her shields, crawling bits of craft probing for any weakness.

"Still so sloppy," she taunts.

"How so?" Rio asks, not bothering to hide her amusement at Agatha trying to pull a shirt on with one hand while she continues to cast with the other. "And when did you get so modest, anyway?"

"Honey, no one likes to be ogled by their ex," Agatha says. "As for how, you are using so much power for that little exploratory spell, if you didn't have literally endless limits, you'd burn out before—"

She stops abruptly, because this is starting to get fun. She's starting to smile, a wild, exhilarated smile. She's starting to feel the urge to giggle, to experiment with spells, to find out if she can remove the floor from under Rio before she notices and send her plummeting into the room below.

For one breath, one heartbeat, she's forgotten to grieve.

She drops her shields at the same time Rio launches a real attack. It won't kill her, but it will hurt.

That's all right. It should.

Then there is a shape in front of her, only very slightly a woman, the impression of arms spread wide and an all-encompassing, welcoming darkness, the space behind the world.

The spell hits, and then there is only Rio, staggering, holding her side and Agatha's instinct is to reach for her, catch her, offer comfort or more likely, a scolding about not being able to better redirect her own energy—

Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and watches, impassive, unmoved.

Rio whirls on her, nostrils flared, eyes wide. "What was that—" she stops, looks at Agatha. Snorts without mirth. "Oooh. Ags, if you want it to hurt that badly, you only have to ask." The knife is back in her hand, as much a part of her as any of her limbs. Perhaps more so, who can say what real shape lies under her favored guise? "I've got better ways than magic." She pauses, then adds, softer, more careful, "And that could have really hurt you."

"Can't have your favorite killing machine injured, hmm?" Agatha purrs. "Who'd get you all those bodies you love so much?"

"You know that isn't why," Rio says, colder, unimpressed.

Agatha shrugs, indifferent, resummoning her magic. "So are we going to do this or—"

Rio doesn't answer. She looks away from Agatha, always a bad idea. "…ss me," she murmurs, syllables too soft to be properly made out.

"What was that?"

"Kiss me. And I'll let it go." She still can't make herself look at Agatha.

"Wow," Agatha says, then repeats. "Wooooow. This is a new low, even for you. I know you're obsessed with me," she tosses her hair, preens a little. "And who could blame you. Still, that is really pitiful."

Rio taps her knife against the air, her expression one of grim patience, as though Agatha is a trial she’s trying to will herself through. "You can't beat me."

Agatha snorts. "We'll see about that. But all right, Romeo. Let me skip the next tithe and I'll do it."

Rio nods at once, as easy as that.

Agatha swaggers toward her, places her hand on her former lover's cheek, shockingly warm against her palm. "Close your eyes," she whispers, her voice gone husky. "I'll make it good."

Rio trembles ever-so-slightly and obeys.

Agatha spins her free hand in the air, mouths a silent incantation and the floor drops out from Rio, sends her plummeting into the room below as Agatha cackles with delight and for just a moment, forgets to grieve.

if you haven’t read it, I recommend the mistake.

#agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario #This one is pretty good

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strawhbrrries · 1 year ago

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All That Matters, ii.

pairing: cocky!tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: working with a world renowned tattoo artist who knows his own beauty has more cons than pros. the main one being that he's infuriating and it turns you on.

warnings: general banter between frank and reader, jealous reader??, jealous frank?, mutual pining but they're both idiots, cocky frank duh!, tattooed frank with long hair!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 883 words

authors note: it wouldn't be a series if there wasn't some sort of trouble, theo my beloved don't get hurt!! if you want to be added to the tag list just drop a comment! as always, enjoy!

find the masterlist here!

read the first part here!

You waited at the reception desk until the girl from Frank’s booth left before marching yourself right in and leaning against the wall, waiting for him to acknowledge you. He was busy putting away all the machinery he used, throwing away all the single use products and checking his notifications to notice you standing there. It made you feel a bit invisible, you’d unpack this feeling later in the shower.

“I wasn’t staring.” You stated, watching his hair fall around his face when he looked up at you from his chair.

“So what were you doing then? Did you think he was cute? Good thing you already have his number.” He responded, going back to whatever he was doing on his phone before he realized you were there. It almost sounded like he was jealous, but you pushed that thought aside. He had no interest in you.

“Jesus, Frank. Go fuck someone and get rid of the attitude.” You scrunched your nose at his attitude and turned around, instantly regretting whatever voice convinced you to come back here and speak to him.

“Are you offering?” You heard him call after you, your eyes were practically in the back of your head at his words.

Frank allowed himself to eye your ass the entire time you walked away from him, watching how it moved when you walked and imagining it grinding up against him in a club. If he was drunk would he know it was you? Would you know it was him? He put the image in the back of his mind for later when he showered and needed some help reaching that high only you could give, and you didn’t know you did.

You spent the entire rest of your shift ignoring him, only speaking to the other artists and telling them to pass on a message for you if you ever needed to talk to him. He spent that entire time trying to figure out what crime he committed, besides being so devilishly handsome, to earn the cold shoulder from you. One of the other artists had finished all his scheduled appointments for the day and decided to sit at the desk with you, generally you got along with everyone you worked with. Except for Frank, the literal guy who owns the place.

In a heated argument towards the beginning of your career as the receptionist, he’d told you he only kept you because he couldn’t find anyone better to do your job. You were proud that you were the best at it, also upset that he disliked you that much he was actively searching to replace you. The resentment for the statement sat at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill out every single time he irritated you. Frank paid you well, it wasn’t even a question in your mind if it was worth working there. The jo was easy, the pay was amazing, but your fucking boss.

“Do you wanna go out for some drinks later? Some of the other people wanna go out and I wanted to extend the offer to you.” Theo, the other artist sat next to you, offered.

“I mean, as long as I’m not a bother.” You smiled, handing him your phone to input his number and then switching to put your number in his phone.

“Never, I’ll shoot you a text with the place and all that shit later.” He shot a smile your way, it almost rivaled Frank’s smile. You rarely saw it though.

Theo had only been there a few months when you got hired, he’d been friends with Frank during their internships and only felt right working next to him. He’d welcomed you with open arms and never made you feel any lesser for your position, in fact he always made his appreciation for you obvious. On most days he picked up some coffee for you when he picked up his breakfast, always making sure to give you a few napkins just in case you spilled. It was a surprise to everyone, but yourself, that you didn’t have his number yet. You knew that the second you let him into your life like that, you wouldn’t keep your hands to yourself.

He almost looked like a blonde version of Frank, way less arrogant about his looks. If they told you they were secretly twins who were separated at birth you would’ve believed in an instant, your mind was blown when you found out they didn’t know each other until they were twenty. His voice wasn’t as deep or rough, just as loud though. You never could see an ink of skin that wasn’t covered in tattoos, on either of them, except Theo’s face. He had this weird thing about never tattooing his face, he’d do other people’s but never his own.

Frank rounded the corner to your desk and frowned the second he saw you two together, laughing. He’d been the one to bring up going out for drinks, he however had no intention of inviting you, he’d look like an even bigger asshole if he told you not to come after his best friend invited you. Theo being so close to you was irritating, Frank. He knew he was attracted to you but jesus, this was a problem.

tag list: @elsvrse

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radioactivedragonbones · 9 months ago

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Back In The Ol' Days [2014] we had the punk/nerd AU... but I have my gripes with the PNAU; it feels outdated to me. In 2014 I ate that shit up, but it's 2024 and the rampant micro-trends have me re-thinkin modern Hijack portrayals...

So here I am to propose a new PNAU: Grunge X Emo.

Hiccup as a cozy grunge kind of guy- basically just classic comfy casual clothes but with earthy tones, ripped up jeans covered in motor oil stains, and loose flannel shirts over worn-out tees.

Jack as a casual emo kind of guy- Skinny jeans with rips (often on the end of the legs cause they annoy them when they're too long), tight band tees, and his classic hoodie he can disappear into the shadowy hood of to sulk.

Elaboration ⬇️

I think it could be fun to explore the way Hiccup has a ton of hand-me-downs and spends a lot of time patching up old clothes, or adding custom painted patches to his bags. Maybe he knows how to sew just from patching/mending. I like that in the movies we see him doing bith heavy work in the forge, and having gentle hands as an artist. I think he'd be good at a ton of different diy skills and put them to practical use with his wardrobe.

In canon, Hiccup does have a lot of leftist and punk ideology; The Edge is literally equal-ownership equal-imput everyone else just decides he runs the show. And he literally changes the dominant mindset of the society he lives in to better the life of both his people and the ones they've been at war with for decades. Hes pretty punk... but I don't see him going so far aesthetically as to be a full Spiky Punk TM. He's always on the move, working on something, or chilling outside with Toothless, so I think a more casual comfortable style suits him. Though I do think he would like jackets with extra straps and buckles on the pockets and stuff, and maybe a good belt bag + leatherman combo. Totally the type to always have a pocket knife. He'd paint himself patches and slap a few of em on his bags, coats, maybe over that burn hole in his jeans that's been annoying him. He'd favor practicality over aesthetic, but he still has a sense of style. As he gets older he probably leans into the edgier style, wearing more black and red combos, more strappy belts/coats/bags, and even gets a few tattoos. But I do see him as a grungey earthy engineering guy with comfy, often oversized silhouettes.

Jack I could see being super impulsive and latching onto pop culture; something emos were notorious for. I, personally, was clamoring for a branded tee shirt the moment I deemed a band good enough to youtube->mp3 to my ipod. I could see Jack doing that kind of thing, and latching onto this misunderstood invisible-yet-visibly-different identity. He probably favors dark blue, brown, and black. Deffinitely the type to get on the colored jeans trend when it hit. Maybe he even doodles little swirling patterns on his clothes when he's bored- an adhd habit I know all too well.

Without being, yanno, dead, Jack's Different Look would probably come just from him wanting to express himself. He feels isolated and finds it hard to make lasting friends because when people *do* notice him, they tend to see him more as a silly little jester than a person worth getting to know. He copes with humor and trying to get attention every now and again but ends up with a closer knit group of oddballs. He's good with kids, of course, and tends to take on a cool-big-brother to anyone in need of one. All of this playing into this casual and easy-going but edgy, kinda emo look. He probably listens to sad emo music while sitting on a roof, staring at the moon, contemplating his purpose in life. He pretty much does that in his movie so it isn't much of a stretch lol.

Anyways, feel free ro give your 2 cents and build onto or off of this as you please, I'm just brainstorming I guess. Thinkin aloud... visually. I tend to like psychoanalyzing characters and it's interesting to me to think of Hic & Jack's canon portrayals and what they would mean in a modern-human AU.

#mad ramblings #grunge/emo AU #hijack #AU ideas i guess #i psychoanalyze pixels #because i love them #frostcup

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yellowcry · 5 months ago

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Forgettable

Mirabel is used to be alone. Even if sometimes (always) the only thing she wants is to be seen

Mirabel tumbled into her seat, the paperwork carefully put on the edge of a wooden cracked desk. Not too damaged, but the furniture was aged, staying the same since the school has been found back when her mamá was yonger than Mirabel herself. Maybe she could check the work again, just in case. She couldn't mess her assigment up too.

The seat next to her was empty. Of course. It was always empty, all the way back from the beginning of the school. Mirabel was a bad luck. Somebody to avoid. Her classmates didn't like her that much. Not to say they hated her. In general, people just didn't care.

Mirabel is the first one to get up. The first to show her work. At least it made her good in something.

Señora Ruiz examines the assigment, brown eyes squinting to read the text. She stares down at Mirabel, makind her skin crawl. Was it bad? Of course, Mirabel knew she should've given a wider answer for the sixth question. Her little palms were sweating. Gosh, it's gross.

"You never dissapoint me, Mirabel." Señora Ruiz smiled. Okay, okay, she wasn't in trouble (yet.). "Look at Mirabel, class, she's one of the best students I ever educated."

Teacher's prising was sweet, clinging to her like honey, drippind under her skin. It almost made Mirabel feel good. If not for the insest attached to the sweetnes she would be so near to believing in it.

"Of course, who else would it be, little good girl."

"Who is she even? I practically forgot she exists"

Mirabel swallowed. It made her feel sick, grossed out with herself. Worlds were stuffing her throat, sliding inside and taking away her breathe. A price of being told she's good enough in something. (Or not, Mirabel was ONE of the best, not the best. And Señora Ruiz is old, she confuses things too, there's no reason to trust in it)

Who cares if her classmates politely say to go away each time Mirabel tries to ralk with them? Show their complete lack of interest in whatever Mirabel can say. It's painful, but Mirabel gets it. At least most of her classmates don't hate her. Even if Mirabel isn't sure what is worse, to be hated, or to be non-existing. She's not seen. Never seen.

Even if Mirabel pushes through herself, spending whole days outside to socialise, it doesn't make anything better. It just makes her "annoying". And in the end, she is still invisible. A snow ghost wandering around the village without a place to stay.

"Who is she? I've never seen this girl."

Mirabel bites her tongue. The disgusting insest licking the honey, small jaws with the sharp razors push into her skin, drawing the white colorless blood out with the countless invisible injuries. Of course. She is forgotten. Always left behind.

"I'm Mirabel," she introduces herself. As if she wouldn't have to do the same thing all over just a few days ago. But they won't listen. Isabela drawns everyone's eyes when she's nearby. The spotlight on her.

Everyone knows Isabela.

Mirabel shouldn't be bitter, shouldn't feel how jealously is twisting her own stomach, wanting her to throw out the larvas. She knows that so far, Isabela is way better than she is. (Isabela isn't labeled as useless)

Useless. The word clings to Mirabel, striping her to the bones. Rising in the air and pushing the oxygen out of her lungs. It's always here, carved in the bottom of her existence. Painful, tearing the leaf veins out of the slab. At least some visible definition. What makes people remember about her. Sometimes. (It really doesn't.)

Nobody looks at her. Mirabel can say she is used to it. To be invisible for the whole town. Trying not to listen to the starving parasits flying around, all ready to hit her from every side.

"Oh, it this that madrigal girl with failed ceremony?"

Mirabel"s breathing hitches. Don't cry. It's okay. Even if tears stinged like bees.

"She's so forgettable"

Her body trembles. Forgettable. Of couse. Mirabel knows it, knows how truthful it is. She doesn't shine with her family. She has nothing to make herself seen. No matter how hard she tries. Like a little unsprout seed inside a lush garden. And it has been lying in that garden for centuries until nobody can remember that she has been here in the first place. Just... Forgotten. She shifts the backets. She got them in the local shop, having run out of sooke threads colours. And then she also got a bunch of handicraft supplies too. Looking back, it's a bit too much. But she can't leave it for the jaguars to eat. So Mirabel swallows her discomfort.

"Go to home," Isabela scoffs, brows furrowed as Mirabel almost bumps into her. By accident, her glasses are misted and her arms are busy with crates for the emboidery she got. "What are you donig here anyway."

Mirabel rolls her eyes, which, luckily is left unnoticed because of the foggy glass. Not like anyone would notice either way. "Forgot to report to you."

Her face wrinkles under Isabela's dramatic sing. Tired from her nonsense. Really what was her problem, Señorita Perfecta should just go grow her stupid roses somewhere instead of picking on Mirabel.

But... it still was attention. But Mirabel didn't like it. Isabela's bickering didn't make Mirabel feel seen. Just annoyingly insulted. And it was confusing. Was it selfish if Mirabel wanted attention aside from people commanding her to go away?

Mirabel notices Luisa too later. The older sister carries a load with bricks. Again at work. Luisa always works. From the breakfast and all time until she sets for the dinner.

"Hello, Lu!" Mirabel annoynces her presence, their relationship's better than constant arguing with Isabela. Even if something inside Mirabel scratches onto her joints, biting her ribs and wigging across the jaws. She and Luisa have been so close back when they were young (before Mirabel had failed everyone)

Luisa smiles, shifting the tray onto one hand and waves back. "Do you need help here?" She asks, her eyes shifting onto supplies

"No, no!" Mirabel breaths out so rapid, it almost makes her choke. She shouldn't bother Luisa and distract her from actually important job. "I got it! See you at home!"

Nobody talks to her anymore. Mirabel can't tell if it's makes her relieved or sad. And, she really wishes she could say she was surprised. But it's not. Nobody looks at her. They never look at her. No natter how hard she tries. Forgettable, right... Just a nameless child inside of the nost wonderful family. Like a moth flying on the light. But she will never reach it. It's so close, but just out of her reach. Tears burn the elegant patterns on her eaves, but Mirabel doesn't scream. What's the point of screaming if nobody hears her? And even if they do, they will forget about it a moment later. Allowing Mirabel to dissappear into nothingless again. And, she doesn't think she will ever find the way out. It hurts way more that Mirabel is willing to admit.

#encanto #mirabel madrigal #fanfic #ao3 author

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legendofmorons · 2 years ago

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Two cacti and an awkward conversation (Legend)

Pairing: Legend x Snarky! Reader

Rating : T for cursing

Summary: You and Legend are both sparky people, according to everyone else you are like an old married couple. When Wind asks how long you've been together You both have to reevaluate your feelings.

Warnings: Cursing,

Other: I will probably make a part two.

-------

"If you don't stop moving your things all the time, you'll never find what you need. " You say with a pointed look to where Legend is digging through his bag.

"Shut up or help me look." He says back without even looking up.

"I don't think I could find anything in that if I looked for a week."

Legend rolls his eyes at you, pulling out a handful of things that aren't what he's looking for.

"You aren't much better."

"I have less shit in my bag." You say as you move to sit beside him.

"You also have less protection."

You take the next handful of items he pulls out when he hands them to you.

You sigh as you take another handful from him. "What are you even looking for in the pigsty of a bag?"

Sorting through them is easy enough.

"Why do I need protection if you take all the hits for me?" You ask, more than displeased that he does.

"In case I decide not to."

"That charm I found a few dungeons back- the one that makes me invisible to enemies for an hour at a time."

"You put that in your rupee pouch for safe keepping."

"You're a liar."

You set the things from his travel bag down and move to grab his Rupee pouch.

Usually Legend would pay closer attention to someone with his wallet- but he knows you aren't gonna steal his things.

You open it and pull out the small silver ghost charm, grinning smugly.

"Found it!"

"Maybe you should pack my things then."

"Ew, no. You have too much for me to take care of."

"Like?"

"Have you even watched your hat this month?"

"Shut up."

"Exactly. I'm not packing your things if they're all gross."

Legend just snorts before he starts putting his things back into his bag.

You laugh warmly as you close his rupee pouch and observe the charm in your hand.

"We aren’t. " You and Legend say in near unison, both sounding kind of confused.

"How long have you two been together?" Wind asks, not sure if you two are married or just act like an old married couple.

That's a bucket of cold water on you.

You share a look with Legend, incredulous and judging all at once.

"Why?" You ask.

"You're like an old married couple - I just thought you might be?"

"Uh- no. Have you seen how he is?" You ask, not elaborating on how Legend is because that's a can of worms you've been ignoring.

"You aren't better, you're always- doing that thing!" Legend defends quickly.

"You really aren't dating?"

"No!" You both say sharply.

"Huh. I owe Wild and Sky both ten rupees."

"You made a bet - you know what never mind I don't wanna know." You shake your head.

Legend just groans, plucking the charm from your hand before leaving.

You can't believe Wind though you two were together. Are you that obvious?

Ugh.

.......

Legend comes back from whatever he'd gone to do looking upset.

"Something shit in your bed?" Ypu ask, not ready to be emotionally vulnerable after the earlier question.

"No."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just- tired."

"Then take a anp."

"No."

"Then stop complaining. "

"Also no."

"Then what do you want?"

Legend looks at you, something unreadable flashing across his face.

After a moment, he sighs, slow and resigns.

"Nothing you could give me."

"You're being really cryptic."

"Okay."

You hold his gaze, wondering why you have such intense romantic feelings for him. At least right now he's being a real son of a bitch.

He raises a brow, "What you staring at?"

"A cactus."

"Funny."

"I am, if you ask me I'll tell you."

"I know."

"Look, I'm going to bed. Do me a favor and keep Wind off me." You say, having no appetite for dinner and needing space to reevaluate things.

"Why are you asking me for that?"

"Because."

You're asking because you trust him. Becuase at the end of the day he's a good man with a good heart. He is just- a prickly cactus sometimes.

You turn in, leaving Legend to his own feelings.

Legend watches you, ypur back to the group.

This is such a mess. You obviously don't return his feelings, and Wind thought you were together.

He's definitely fucked up his own chances with you by now.

Maybe he should just cut you off and get over you.

That seems really hard and borderline impossible though.

He's probably better off suffering silently.

Yeah...

"Dinner." Wild calls.

Legend glances back to your form before he let's out a sigh and goes to eat.

This is such a mess.

Fuck.

"Is (Y/n) okay?" Wild asks Legend, nodding to you.

"Why are you asking me?"

"They talked to you last thought you might know."

"They went to bed early. That's all."

Wild snorts as if disbelieving.

"Is it cause I asked about you two dating?" Wind asks, oddly perceptive since neither you or Legend are being open about feelings you both swear you'll never admit to.

"No. They're just tired. And if you wake them up I'm giving you cursed items in your sleep."

"Do not." Time says evenly.

"Are you mad about it? You sound mad." Wind continues, smiling sweetly.

"I wish you'd drop it but no. I'm not bothered."

"Enough. Both of you." Time interjects, leaving no room for argument.

Legend just glares into the plate he's handed.

This is not a good day.

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noah-moth-cursed-chaos · 29 days ago

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Young Azaril content! With Mercer being a manipulative prick as he does best.

When Azaril had been told he was shadowing Mercer instead on this mission, he'd been mildly disgruntled but not too upset.

Sure Mercer was a pain and didn't seem to like him very much, but he was still the third, not a position Azaril expected Gallus to give someone who couldn't work with others.

Only this fairly simple bedlam job was taking. Forever. Because Mercer was a nit picky asshole who wouldn't let Azaril two inches out of his sight and was annoyingly insistent on Azaril doing everything exactly the way he wanted.

They would've been out of solitude ages ago if they'd just gone with Azaril's plan. Hit the Blue Palace, there weren't nearly enough guards at the moment and it was technically open to the public, in a jarl's palace there were bound to be plenty of fine clothes and crockery. More than enough to add up to what they needed. Hell, if they could get into the jarl's room who knew what she might have. He'd even bought and packed a couple invisibility potions to help.

But no.

Mercer thought it was better to sneak around the stores and pick up a couple things here and there whole Azzy distracted the clerk. They'd be here all day at this rate.

Not to mention how rude he was being throughout it all. As if Azaril wasn't what stood between him and a quick visit to a jail cell at the moment.

"You wouldn't know a good plan if it hit you in the face." This and "If I let you do the actual stealing we'd end up caught within seconds." That. Divines was his patience running thin.

Currently they were in Angeline's Aromatics, and Azaril was trying very hard to pretend he was way more interested in alchemy than he was. He must be doing decent because the shopkeep had her attention on him the entire time, hadn't even noticed Mercer sneak away to go look for valuables.

Currently she was explaining to him the steps to make a cure disease potion, "It should look like this when you're done." She pulled out a potion from under the counter to show him. He did a very good imitation of studying the red liquid inside, but was distracted by a figure out of the corner of his eye.

What the fuck was Mercer doing?

Sure Azaril was a good distraction but he wasn't near good enough for Mercer to be pocketing shit right in front of this lady.

Trying to become good enough of a distraction, Azaril silently prayed that Mercer would stay on the side of the room he was currently on, and went to lift the bottle to see it catch the light, and very convincingly pretended dropping it was a complete accident.

"Oh crud-I'm so sorry! I'll just-let me-"

"No no it happens, I have a broom, it's okay really-you don't have to pick up the glass-"

"I'll pay for it, gosh I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be so clumsy-"

The lady managed to run to grab said broom right as Mercer walked across the room and put something off a shelf in his pocket.

"What are you-"

Mercer ran over and grabbed Azaril before booking it out the door.

"What in Oblivion are you doing?!"

"Just trust me!"

"Stop them! They're thieves!"

"Halt!"

There was so much going on at once, Mercer dragging Azaril through side streets, guards and people screaming, finally they were cornered. Azaril's heart was pounding, how had everything gone so wrong so quickly? What had Mercer been thinking?

His head was spinning while the leader of the group of guards who had them cornered did the entire 'you have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people' bit, how were they going to get out of this? He reached into his pocket to pull out his coin purse, he probably had enough to pay their bounties, whatever Mercer had stolen couldn't be worth too much.

"We submit, take us away." Mercer said, Azaril froze and stared at him.

"What?" He asked. The guards quickly restrained them, walking them towards the jail. All Azzy could do was stare at Mercer, these past ten minutes had made absolutely zero sense to him. What was going on? What was Mercer's plan? There were so many better ways to handle this... Hell so many ways to not get caught in the first place.

Mercer had to be planning something.

Azaril didn't know why that scared him so badly.

They were only actually in the cell for maybe a couple of hours, Azaril had his suspicions Mercer had been in there before with how easily he found a way out once no guards were paying attention.

"You know even if we get out we still failed the mission, everyone's going to be on alert for us now, there's no way to make back what we lost." Azaril whispered as Mercer grabbed their things out of the belongings chest.

"What do you want me to do about that?" Mercer snapped back. Azaril fought back a comment about sloppy mistakes and how skill didn't negate carelessness. "Just try not to fall behind on the way back. Don't need you getting eaten by wolves or something." The fact that he still had the audacity to act like Azaril was the unskilled one in this scenario was absolutely grating.

The way back to Riften was tense and silent, both of them were livid with the other, although Azaril thought Mercer's anger at him was entirely unwarranted.

When the two at last entered the cistern, Gallus looked up from the guild leader desk, "How did it go-are you two alright?" He seemed to notice the sour mood the two brought in with them.

"We need to talk, Gallus." Mercer said, walking towards him. Azaril followed, he was on the mission, he should be present for the discussion. Yet Mercer glared at him, "Alone."

Azaril stared at him for a moment, "It's about the job, right? Why shouldn't I be in the room?" His gaze turned to Gallus as he asked that last question.

There was a pause from Gallus, before a small sigh, "I'll make sure I get your story of events, Azzy. I promise." He saw the slightest smirk on Mercer's face, just for a second, and had a sinking feeling that he did not intend to tell Gallus the truth of what happened in Solitude.

"We should both be in the room, we were both on the job-"

"Azaril." Gallus' voice was more firm. "I'll speak to you later."

"... Fine." He watched them walk into the training room, and then turned towards the main flagon.

"Az! How was the job?" Delvin asked as he walked in, smiling until he saw the expression on his friend's face, "... Did somethin' happen?"

"Mercer's an asshole is what happened." Azaril grumbled, sitting at the table with him, "Was so sure of his plan he wouldn't listen to me or use common sense, then wants to get a stick up his ass when it all goes wrong."

"... You failed?" Delvin asked.

"Worse. We got arrested-I had the coin to just pay off the guard! We could have just walked out and waited to strike at night! But no, Mercer wanted to surrender."

"That... Makes no sense."

"Thank you! There was no reason for it, and now he wants to talk to Gallus alone and-am I being childish for being so annoyed over this?" He sighed, "This should have been so straightforward."

"... Dramatic, I do get where you're comin' from though. Even a man like Mercer miscalculates sometimes, just 'cause you're new doesn't mean he should brush you off." Delvin said. "I'm sure Gallus is gonna feel the same way."

"... Right." He nodded, "How about you? Did that numbers job go well?"

"Oh splendid, nobody suspected a thing."

"At least things are going right for one of us today."

It'd be a while before Mercer came out, sitting at a stool at the bar and demanding a mead.

Azaril rose from his seat and made his way to the Cistern. He wanted to make sure Gallus had the whole story.

Gallus appeared to have been walking towards the Flagon door when Azaril entered.

"Can we talk now?" He asked.

"I was coming to get you." Gallus said, turning to lead Azaril to the training room. "Azaril, I have to say I expect better of you than this. You're new yes, but I know you have a good head on your shoulders, and in the field I expect you to use it. You can't just pocket things in front of the shopkeep."

"... What?" That's how Mercer made it sound? That this was his mess? "I didn't-Gallus, Mercer is the one who grabbed something from the main room, I was trying to distract the shopkeep, honest." He said, "I didn't even want to target the shops, I wanted to wait for nightfall and go to the Blue Palace."

"Mercer already told me about you attempting to take the potion and dropping it. I'm not mad about the job not being completed, but you cannot shift blame when a job goes wrong." Gallus looked so disappointed in him. Why would he lie? What reason would he have to lie about Mercer?

"I'm not shifting blame! He-he wanted to talk to you first to cover his mess, I dropped a potion on purpose to try to cover him strolling into the main room and trying to shove things in his pockets!" He exclaimed, "He messed up! Not me!"

"*Azaril Avalaron that is enough!*" Gallus snapped at him, "Mercer would have no reason to lie to me, and I don't appreciate you trying to."

"I'm not-Gallus I swear I'm not, you taught me, why don't you believe me?" It felt like a childish question, but that was all he could think about. Mercer's supposed story, Azaril felt, was completely out of character, and his mentor of all people should know that. He held back the tears that liked to mix themself with his anger, he was not going to cry over Mercer's lies.

Gallus' gaze softened a bit, he took a deep breath, "... Maybe Mercer missaw what happened with the potion. But I can't imagine him doing something as foolish as what you claim unless he was trying to take the attention off of you, Azzy. I think both of you owe each other an apology." He didn't owe a thing. He wasn't apologizing when he'd done nothing wrong.

"I'm. I'm not going on any more jobs with him."

"Azaril, come on now-"

"I don't think he missaw anything, and I'm not apologizing." Tears were welling in his eyes, why didn't Gallus believe him??

"I know he seems harsh, but he does care-" Azaril wasn't going to stay here and listen to this, or risk crying in front of Gallus. He turned on his heel and stormed out, ignoring Gallus calling after him.

A few other guild members tried to ask him what was happening, he didn't answer, making a bee line for the ladder. He passed Karliah coming down, ignoring her "Azaril? What's wrong?"

There weren't many places in Riften one could truly be alone, even the docks were almost always busy.

But the dock out back of Honeyside laid as empty and silent as the house it belonged to.

And Azaril sneaking out there was nothing new. He sat near the edge of the dock, burying his face in his knees and finally letting himself cry.

He was out there for a good couple of hours, once he was calm just staring out at the water, before he heard someone drop onto the docks behind him. "Go away, Delvin."

"If you can mistake my landing for Delvin's I need to work on it, clearly." He looked back to see Karliah walking towards him, taking something out of her pocket. She sat next to him and handed over a wrapped sweet roll, "Gallus told me about the job."

"Told you *Mercer*'s version of the job." Azaril said, but took the sweet roll and thanked her nonetheless.

"... He can be. Hard to work with." She said, "He tends to get in his head that things should be done a certain way and won't hear anything else, but he does mean well." She paused, "Personally I don't believe Gallus should have sent you with Mercer, this was only what? Your fourth job?" Azaril nodded. "Of course the two of you didn't work well together." She said.

"... Do you believe Mercer? About the-the potion?"

"I do believe that's what he *thought* he saw. But I don't truly believe you'd be that careless." She said, "I don't believe he had malicious intent. But he shouldn't have jumped to conclusions." Maybe Mercer didn't lie on purpose... Maybe Gallus and Karliah were right, he was just trying to keep Azaril safe. It still hurt how ready Gallus was to disregard Azaril's story because of Mercer's. But maybe he really was just overreacting?

"... I hope you're right." He whispered.

"I know I am, I know Mercer, and he's a good man Azzy. Just... Cold. You'll get used to working with him in time, I'm sure of it."

If only Azaril knew then how far that was from the truth.

#skyrim #Azaril Avalaron #writing #my writing

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