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mydearlybeloathed · 1 year ago

Note

THAT HEROES OF OLYMPUS IMAGINE WAS SO GOOD FR like nil it reminded me of the eternals BUT PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE MAKE A PT2

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the eight get together for first time since Y/N's funeral, and it's a cause for some serious looks into their future.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: allusions to leo x fem!reader, heroes of olympus x fem!reader

𝐚/𝐧: omg you're so right it is like the eternals AND THANKS SM 🥰

Christmas Eve hadn’t ever been so crowded, and honestly, Sally was a bit overwhelmed. Nevertheless, she'd never wish it any other way; her son was happy, and his wife was happy, so she was happy.

Besides, she wasn't stuck to the kitchen all alone. Estella and Paul were right at her side, and so were her grandchildren, Margot and Zoe.

Well, Margot and Zoe were fighting more than helping, spreading puffs of flour into the air with every punch and chokehold they threw out.

Sally let out a breath to calm herself as she very nearly dropped the tray of casserole due to their chase around the kitchen. Paul, who had gained a sense for Sally's temper, looked up form across the room and noticed the furrow of her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Girls," he snapped, snatching the rolling pin from Zoe and grabbing Margot by the back of her hoodie. "Please, take it outside."

Zoe, ever the oldest, nodded and dragged her sister out into the front yard. Hopefully, thought Paul, there wouldn't be a Christmas trip to the ER.

Further into the house, away from the stress of the kitchen, laughter rang throughout the house.

In the living room, sat around the hearth, were the eight Heroes of Olympus.

Hazel sat on the edge of the couch, every once in a while looking toward the kitchen she'd been thrown out of. Sally insisted she didn't need any more help, but Hazel couldn't help but feel the need to.

Annabeth and Percy sat on the rug, criss crossed and side by side as they thanked Hestia no arguments had yet to break out. It seemed things were finally getting back to how they used to be; that is, good.

On the couch, right next to Hazel, was Frank. There was a polite enough distance between them, but every once in while they'd lock eyes and smile. The conversation between them wasn't what they'd like it to be, but slowly, they felt the ice slowly begin to melt. Both were hoping for a second chance, but neither knew how to ask for it.

"You're still doing quests, right?" Hazel asked him.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Not really quests. A search party, more like. Searching for more demigods."

Her head tilted as she turned to face him. "How are you finding them?"

"Luck, mostly," he said. "It's just me and Lavinia right now. We're following monster patterns for the most part, as well as just going to Olympus and asking... well, asking for a roster."

Hazel laughed behind her hand. "A roster? For all the people they've, erm, been with?"

Nodding, Frank chuckled too. "It's effective."

On the other end sat Y/N and Leo, the latter completely captured by whatever the son of Hephestus said. His hands were quick as he worked with several gears and pieces of metal, not realizing as his friend got closer to his shoulder to watch what he was doing.

When he was done, he held up a tiny model dragon, which he handed to her before going on about all that had happened since last they talked, which had been some months ago, upon her crashing her own funeral.

Y/N grinned down at the dragon, setting it on her knee as she propped her arm on the back of the couch and rested her head there, eyes finding Leo's profile again as she hung on every word he said.

"What happened to Calypso," she asked in a moment of pause. She'd been wondering that for some time, even before her "death." She'd been on good terms with everyone during their decade of disagreement and had spoken to Leo every few years or so, and eventually, Calypso stopped showing up to their lunch get-togethers.

Y/N never had the nerve to bring her up, mostly because she didn't want to come off... the wrong type of way about it.

Leo blinked, not expecting that, and shifted to face her. "Oh. Uhm, we didn't work out." His lopsided grin turned melancholy. "Took me three years to figure that out."

"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. He'd been so happy with Calypso, and as much as that was hard to swallow, she wasn't about to put an end to that.

"Eh," Leo shrugged, noticing how her face had fallen. "It's fine. We're good now. Better as friends, I think."

The pair fell silent at that particular choice of words, an echo of a past they'd rather not bring up in their heads.

It hadn't been so long ago, to them at least, when they were sixteen, and better as friends had put some kind of impassable bridge between the close friends.

For some reason, they both reflected, sharing a brief glance, that bridge wasn't so impassable anymore.

On the soft armchair across from them were Piper and Shel. Piper had her legs thrown over Shel's, her upper body leaned against the side of the chair as she talked with Jason, who lay on his back on the floor. To her surprise, Shel and Jason got along really well.

"So you can fly?" Shel asked, a brow raised as she looked between her girlfriend and the son of Jupiter.

Jason sat up and nodded. "Yep."

Shel scoffed. "I don't believe you."

Piper and Jason shared a look, mischief in their eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she answered, shaking her head. "Just cause you're a demigod or whatever doesn't mean the laws of gravity don't apply to you."

"Well, they do still." Jason shifted so he was sitting right in front of Shel. "It doesn't work like that, really. I just bend the wind to lift me up."

"There's no way you're a fuckin' airbender, dude."

"There is a way, and I'll prove it--"

"Mom!"

Annabeth's eyes shut as she sighed to keep her patience. Meanwhile, Percy nudged her and wondered aloud. "How come they never call for me when they're angry?"

Ignoring her husband, Annabeth looked up as her daughters ran one after the other into the living room. Margot shoved Zoe aside to get there first, sending her older sister spiraling into the wall.

Zoe jumped back up with a grunt, just in time to catch her mother's stern glare and shape up real quick.

Margot pointed at her sister and shouted, "Zoe punched me! For real punched me. In the eye!"

"Was it aggravated?"

"Percy."

He raised his hands in defense. "It's a valid question."

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose, though a little grin was fighting its way onto her lips. "Zoe, do not deck your sister in the face."

"Ha!"

"Margot," Annabeth warned. "Do not do anything garnering a deck in the face."

The sisters glared at each other before they said in unison, "Yes, Ma'am" and ran back outside, this time with their Aunt Stella marching after them, slouching and frustrated at being sent to be their babysitter by her mother.

Annabeth sighed and leaned into her husband's side, feeling his laughter in his chest before she heard it. He rubbed at her shoulders. "We haven't decided whose genetics trumped the others yet."

"It's obvious," Y/N said, looking up from the little toy dragon in her lap.

The parents shared a look before Annabeth asked, "Really?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah. Margot may look just like Sally, but she's all Annie's sass and smarts. And Zoe's a tiny little Percy, except maybe a bit more self-aware."

Percy scoffed, nearly offended, as Annabeth chuckled. Y/N leaned back, reclining into the soft couch, and let her exhaustion get the better of her as she confessed, "I can't wait till I have kids someday."

An instant later, her cheeks were rosy as she sat straight up, glaring at Hazel's little snicker. "I mean, not mine, obviously."

Leo's brows quirked as he turned to face her entirely on the couch. "Why obviously?"

She realized then she'd actually never told anyone. "Oh, uhm," she stammered. "I... uh, I learned a while back I can't. Something in my DNA. I dunno..."

Suddenly, her little slip up wasn't so funny. Piper shifted so she was sitting up, beside Shel on the armchair. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Y/N was quick to shake my hands in dismissal, a tiny grin on her face. "No, don't be. I have other options, if I ever get a life and move out of the Big House."

Annabeth tilted her head at that, her hand still in Percy's. "But you love being a counselor?"

"I do! Don't get me wrong," she said, starting to laugh a little awkwardly now that everyone was looking at her. "I just... I wish I hadn't clung to Camp like I had, you know? I shoulda gone to New Rome and gone to college with you guys instead of settling for never getting passed tenth grade."

Now it was Frank that turned to face her. "Y/N, you know it's not too late, right? NRU has GED programs."

Percy nodded. "And then you can apply. I'm sure Reyna and Jason would give you a recommendation or something."

"Definitely," said Jason.

Though the prospect of it was exciting, she ducked her chin and sank deeper into the cushions. "But... guys. I'm bordering on twenty-five..."

Before anyone could say anything else, reassure her it wasn't too late, the man beside her blurted, "I'll do it with you."

Everyone's heads darted in Leo's direction. Leo was smart. Insanely smart. But he'd made it clear school just wasn't for him. He was well enough off, and had a good job working at a garage not too far from the Waystation. He had no need to go back to school.

"What?" Y/N voiced the thought whirling around the room.

He just shrugged. "I've been thinking about it for a while, to be honest."

"You're not just saying that?" Y/N asked. "Cause I-I don't need you to do that for me, Leo. I know how difficult it was for you."

"I'm serious," he insisted. "Fixing motorcycles and cars is fun and all, but there's only so many oil changes a man can do before he has an existential crisis."

He wanted to be an engineer. He'd always wanted to be engineer, really, but it always felt so far away. He'd felt alone, but Y/N was there, and she also wanted more out of life. She too had regrets, probably some regrets they shared, and he wasn't just letting that go.

So he shrugged again, offering her his signature smirk, and raised his fist up to her. "What'dya say? Back to school?"

Y/N probably stared at his fist long enough to make it weird, before her eyes snapped up to meet his, and a smile spread from cheek to cheek. "Okay."

She fist bumped him, letting out a loud laugh as Piper whooped and started a round of applause that soon had the living room nearly too loud to handle.

It was still going on when Sally and Paul entered the room, the mother ripping an oven mitt off her hand and crossing her arms whilst her husband snickered under his breath. He cast her a look and wondered, "Did we miss something?"

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rascalcurious · 10 months ago

Text

today i have 4 4t2 hair conversions for you guys :) these all come in 5 EA colours, and the lauren hair also comes in 1 custom colour.

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freesia-writes · 4 months ago

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Ch 19: Montage

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.8k

Vibe Songs: “One Last Dance” by Us The Duo or, an instrumental option: “Billow Gently” by Sophie Hutchings and Lavinia Meijer

“Look at this,” Lyra said, having turned over a small log and squatted down to inspect the contents hiding beneath. “Look at the legs on that thing!” A brightly-colored insect of sorts crawled along the edge, seeking a return to the dark privacy it had been enjoying. It had more legs than she could count, and they rippled mesmerizingly as it scurried out of sight. Hunter knelt next to her, leaning over to squint at the small worms wriggling in the soil, and he used a small stick to brush away some of the crushed leaves, revealing another one of the bugs, less vibrant than the first but just as graceful as it crawled onto the twig in Hunter’s hands. He held it up toward Lyra, who shifted backward with a little giggle, shaking her head as he dropped it with a grin. They rose slowly, brushing themselves off and stretching stiff joints, and she slipped her hand into his, both of them tight-lipped as though the beaming smiles bursting forth needed to be hidden. Continuing along the path, he brushed his thumb along the back of her knuckles, wondering if he would ever tire of the way her cold hands brought such warmth to his chest.

* * *

“Ha! Gotcha!” Lyra announced, slapping her hand of cards onto the table triumphantly.

“No!!” Wrecker yelled, throwing his own across the room. “I needed one more card! You’re cheatin!”

“I would never!” she gasped in dramatic affront.

“Mmm, we need to find a different game,” Hunter rumbled, folding his own cards back into the deck and giving her a stern look out of the corner of his eye, pressing his lips together to avoid laughing at her wide-eyed response. He was delighted with the way she was gradually unfolding, increasingly comfortable to be animated or relatively bold.

“How about arm wrestling…” Wrecker grumbled, and now it was Lyra who guffawed boisterously before clapping her hand over her mouth at the ungodly sound that had escaped.

“Bring it on,” she said, trying to recover and setting her arm up on the table, holding her hand out for Wrecker’s, but he just stared from his seat opposite her with delighted confusion.

“I wasn’t serious.”

“Ah, I thought it might make you feel better,” she continued, realizing then how condescending she might be sounding. “Shoot, I’m making it worse, aren’t I…”

“Yup. Get out,” Wrecker said, eyes sparkling with mischief as he stood up and solemnly pointed toward the front door. Lyra shifted uncomfortably in her seat, truly concerned that she’d crossed a line despite the playfulness in his demeanor.

“This is my house, Wrecker,” Hunter interjected, stretching in his seat with a lazy grin.

“Fine,” his brother huffed, winking at Lyra with an accusatory finger in her direction. “But I’m watchin you.”

She laughed, taking the deck from the middle of the table and beginning to shuffle it. “Well watch this…”

Hunter caught her eye and they shared a smirk against the backdrop of Wrecker’s indignant grumbling.

* * *

The fire crackled noisily in the hearth as Lyra approached from the kitchen, a warm mug of tea in each hand, and Hunter’s hand brushed hers as he took it from her. She curled up next to him on the couch, tucking her feet to the side and nestling against him, relishing the weight of his arm across her shoulders. He didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on his lips as he blew across the surface of the tea, making the tendrils of steam dance in front of his face before taking a sip. The smell of cinnamon rolls in the oven filled the small cottage with a coziness beyond comparison, and he leaned his cheek against her hair, taking a deep breath of all the scents of this new sort of life he was still struggling to comprehend. She held her own tea in one hand, the other moving to rest tentatively on his knee.

An hour of conversation later, Hunter was laying across the couch, his head resting in her lap as she gazed down at him, enraptured. Her hands ran through his hair, stroking it away from his face, and explored his face with feather-light curiosity, a slight tremble to her touch as she followed the curve of his eyebrows, the slope of his cheek… He closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath as she caressed back up from his chin and buried her fingers in his hair, leaving them there to brush her thumb back and forth across his temple as the distant crash of the waves was the only sound added to the steady beating of their hearts.

* * *

“Here they come,” Lyra said, pointing to the fathiers trotting across the meadow toward them. She reached into her bag, pulling out a single, soft rope, and greeted the animals as they came to a halt before her, snuffling against her hand for the cubes of sugar she never failed to offer. Both received a treat and a fond stroke along the neck before she fastened the rope along the chest and neck of one, patting the other one and sending it on its way.

“But–” Hunter said, brow furring for a moment.

“Darn,” she said, finishing the makeshift bridle. “I’ll have to sit behind you.”

A slow grin spread across Hunter’s face at her being “forward”, and he pulled his hair up into a bun on top of his head. “Maybe I sit behind you this time,” he poked, and she waggled her eyebrows in response.

“I’m feelin adventurous. Better watch out.”

Next thing he knew, he was indeed tucked behind her on the animal, reaching around either side of her waist to hold the rope as well, providing extra security as he wrapped his body around hers. She shivered once, leaning back for a split second with a blissful sigh, then re-centered herself on the animal and nudged it into action. It broke into an easy lope across the hills, snorting with delight as it navigated through some sparse outcroppings of trees, forcing them to duck beneath some low-hanging boughs.

When they emerged into a large open space, with nothing but flat grass stretching out before them for what seemed like miles, Lyra leaned forward against its neck, whispering encouragement that matched the animal’s excitement as it opened up into a full gallop. The ground flew by in a blur, Hunter wrapping himself around Lyra’s back and catching the tail end of the gleeful laugh she couldn’t hold in anymore.

* * *

The island curved below them in majestic beauty, its dark curves dotted with the warm glow of lights peeking out of windows from cozy homes tucked here and there. The stately tower of the observatory stood tall behind Hunter as he came to a halt, releasing his affectionate grip on Lyra’s hand to instead invite her in front of him, gesturing at the vista before them. Her sharp inhale of awe made him stand up a little straighter, and he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Something about having her close in that particular way soothed him deep in his soul. He could stay that way forever, feeling her heartbeat, listening to her steady breath, picking up on her light scent as her hair brushed against his cheek… She placed her hands over his, tugging them more snugly around her, and closed her eyes, soaking up every sensation she could to remember the moment forever.

* * *

“Ah, sorry!” Lyra exclaimed, clapping a hand to her forehead as she looked down at their feet.

“It’s fine,” Hunter chuckled, scooping her up in his strong-armed frame again. “We’ll get this!”

“This was a silly idea,” she confessed, blushing as they tried the steps again, watching the screen in her office where she’d queued up some instructional dance holos after everyone had left for the day. They’d moved chairs out of the way and tilted her monitor, facing each other with sheepish grins as he held out a hand to her, which she took, holding up her other arm for him to take, but he’d bowed deeply, kissing her hand before standing up with a mockingly serious expression. She leaned in, wrapping her arm against his with a giggle, and they began to move with the music.

“One-two-three, one-two-three,” the voice on the screen announced. “Keep your elbows up, remember. Don’t let them sink against your sides.” Both of them immediately complied, straightening themselves back into their proper form as they stepped. “Back-side-together, forward-side-together. And hey, lovebirds, don’t forget to look at each other!”

“Oh gosh,” Lyra breathed, meeting his gaze with a guilty grin. “I didn’t know it was like this.”

“Naturally,” Hunter conceded, keeping them in perfect rhythm and guiding her with a strong frame. “I have no idea why something like that would be in a holofilm called The Intimacy of Waltz.”

“That’s not what it’s called!” she protested, immediately pausing her movement to stare at him in disbelief.

“Did you not watch the intro?”

“No, I was distracted…”

“By what?”

“You,” she admitted, trying to fall back into step but unable to tear her eyes from his face as he studied her with a wry grin.

“Me,” he echoed skeptically.

“You,” she nodded, glancing at the ground. “It’s not fair,” she murmured as she clumsily mirrored his graceful steps. “One person shouldn’t be so attractive.”

“Mmm, you should write a letter of complaint.” He twirled her, or tried to, as she missed the cue and ducked beneath his arm in a sudden twist of overcompensation.

“And what, send it to your mom?”

“Eh… Yeah.” He rotated her back, spinning her around more firmly now and catching her with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. She gasped in surprise at his smoothness, turning her feet quickly to catch up. He’d pulled her in more closely, and they both stilled, faces mere inches apart. Her eyes followed the curve of his tattoo along his cheek down to his lips, her own parting slightly with unspoken thoughts. Hunter’s heart leapt into his throat, his entire body flushing with warmth and anticipation, yet he was frozen in place. Her grasp on his hand tightened, and she swallowed hard before dropping her chin and stepping back, releasing him and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear self-consciously.

* * *

Rain poured outside, drenching the island with a refreshing shower after months of increasing warmth, and the steady drip from the eaves was a rhythmic melody behind the music that wafted from the small speaker on the kitchen counter. It had gotten dark hours ago, the few candles having burnt out during the course of the evening, and the moons peeked in through the windows to cast an ethereal glow across Hunter’s living room, illuminating the curves of arms and shoulders, hips and legs, all entwined on his couch. His chest rose and fell steadily, the only movement for minutes now, and it gently moved Lyra’s head back and forth where it rested against him.

Their eyes were closed, faces blissfully relaxed as they snoozed. Both had fallen asleep after hours of talking after dinner, and their couch cuddle had morphed into a contented slumber, both inching downward until they were completely horizontal, wrapped around each other in unfathomable warmth and comfort. The tingling sensation in Hunter’s arm grew more demanding, waking him from his nap, and he blinked blearily, face softening at the sight of Lyra’s sleeping form tucked between him and the back of the sofa. He carefully extricated his arm, pausing as she roused for a moment before going still again with a few comfort licks that brought an irresistible smile to his face. He sat up on one elbow, brushing some hair from her forehead and leisurely studying the lines beside her lips, the creases at the edges of her eyes, the curves of her brows. The last few months felt like a dream, and he pushed away the ever-present question of the wisdom of his choices, instead soaking up every detail of her.

He’d dozed off again when she woke up later, pushing herself up with a hand on his chest and trying not to get completely distracted by its broadness and his steady pulse beneath her palm. She glanced around the room, trying to find a chrono, but there were none to be seen. Hunter stirred, eyes slowly opening to see her hovering above, and his movement caught her attention. Tipping her head down to face him, she pushed away the cascade of messy hair that tumbled into her face from the movement and sleepily admired him in his soft vulnerability. Seemingly of its own accord, her hand found his cheek, tracing the tattoo along the face that had come to be so familiar. He took a deep breath, nestling into her touch as the corners of his lips curved into a smile.

“Hi,” she whispered, a cascade of tingles washing over him at the adoration in her tone.

“Hi,” he echoed, reaching up to cup her hand with his own before gently turning it and bringing it to his mouth to press a warm kiss to the backs of her fingers. He’d been sleeping more deeply than he had in a long time… as long as he could remember, if he were honest, and he felt entirely unconcerned about his rummy state. Stretching a bit, he tucked one arm behind his head, regarding her fondly.

“I’ve got to go,” she murmured regretfully. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Hmm,” he sighed, turning his head to gaze at the closest moon, tucked into the corner of the window behind the forest outside. “Alright.” She gazed at him steadily, absently rubbing her lips together as she took in his sharp profile. He noticed her stare and faced her, struck by the seriousness on her face. “You okay?” he asked, voice still husky from sleep.

“I really want to kiss you, Hunter,” she confessed, sending a jolt of electricity straight through his core at her raw vulnerability and surprising confession. His heart pounded in his chest, words swirling like a tornado in his head but none surfacing for actual use. She continued, “But… I can’t. I just can’t, yet…”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, nodding slowly as he tried to regain a mental footing.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from… Other than just… Gods… You’re beautiful,” she whispered, caressing his cheek again as her eyes roved across the peaks of his upper lip and the sharp curve of his nose. “And I care about you so, so much. Just… Agh. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quietly. Silence sat heavy between them, so many thoughts and desires fighting for release. “Besides,” he continued, “how do you even know if I want to kiss you or not?” The smirk was apparent in his tone, and she smacked him lightly on the chest, exhaling a chuckle of relief. They shifted together, climbing over one another to come to seated positions on the couch, where they stretched and sighed, regretful to be awake.

Lyra rose to her feet, arching her back one last time before starting her sad walk toward the door, but Hunter grabbed her hand, turning her back to him a little abruptly. She stumbled into his arms, bracing herself with two hands flat against his chest, and he tilted his head, considering her intently from an inch away as his arm wrapped around her waist.

“What–” she breathed, but he lifted a hand to her chin, brushing a thumb against her bottom lip to quiet her question as he held her face steady in his gaze.

“For the record,” he purred, stomach quivering beneath his seemingly confident facade, “I do want to kiss you.” She exhaled quietly, entranced by his intensity. “So whenever it does happen…” he leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead and remaining there for a lingering second before pulling back again. She held her breath, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but he faltered, eyes flickering side to side as he realized he really had no clue what he should say. He laughed, dropping his hand from her face and running it through his hair.

“You can’t leave me hanging like that,” she gasped, playfully tugging at the front of his shirt.

“I don’t even know where I was going with it,” he admitted, rubbing his face. “I was trying to sound… bold.”

“Well,” Lyra huffed, stepping back and straightening her clothes absently. “I can tell you one thing, ‘whenever it does happen’…” She drifted off, straightening up to face him again with a clearly flustered grin.

“Yes?” he asked slowly, a teasing tone to his voice.

“I think I’m gonna need to be sitting down.”

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

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desceros · 11 months ago

Note

i saw on your queue list that you’re wanting to do a papatello au!!! wondering if you would spare some headcanons????

ps your writing is great!!

[with heavy sarcasm] oh no, not someone asking me to discuss one of my favorite fic ideas, the absolute horror

after a terribly unfortunate incident (donnie learns he has a breeding kink and doesn't check to see if the two of you are biologically compatible before enjoying it, thoroughly, over a long period of time) it is discovered that you are pregnant. oops

after a days-long conversation where he freaks out because he's terrified about your safety when he runs some tests and the fetus is very much going to be a turtle with a shell inside of you, the two of you decide to... try. to try and keep it. it feels a bit like a miracle, after all, though he's very very careful to monitor the entire time. and well he should, as it's a difficult pregnancy; they actually end up taking her out a little early and putting her in an egg-like incubator for the last month or so when he starts getting concerned about some pain you're having.

the two of you name her lavinia, after splinter's naming conventions. but very quickly, mikey shortens that to lavi. she's very much a softshell turtle mutant, but she has your smile and (as she grows older) black hair just like papa splinter from having more human DNA.

lavi is the actual poster child of being a daddy's girl. from birth, she favors him for almost everything: being held, being fed, being bathed; if donnie's not doing it or close, she's fussy.

donnie is the actual poster child of being the world's most obnoxious father in the entire world. he's that guy who will insert his kid into every conversation, bending or even snapping its relevance to shoehorn her in. he has pictures upon pictures. videos of lavi doing absolutely nothing except being cute.

and she is so fucking cute. but she's also a bit of a demon, just like her father. wicked smart and always getting into trouble. worse still, if she gets caught, she just looks at donnie with big eyes like 🥺 and it's over. she's not getting in trouble.

lavi also really loves her uncle raph, and she has taken to stealing his catch phrases because she thinks they're funny. you have a video on your phone of her running agilely away from donnie with something very fragile and important, giggling and yelling 'stealing LIKE A BOSS' as donnie chases her, teeth clenched and hands outstretched, going 'lavi, dearest, sweetest little bug whomst i love endlessly and forever, please give that back to papa Right. Now.'

her favorite uncle tho is probably uncle leo. he has cool comic books and watches fun tv shows. she likes to climb onto his shell and curl up to take a nap. a picture of leo crying the first time she did that remains your contact photo for him for a long, long time.

this whole au is just an excuse for me to dump cute headcanons about donnie being the best dad in the world and no one has stopped me yet, so. yeehaw

#thank you so much!!! im glad you're enjoying my descent into hell :)#ask tag #papatello #im. im just fine about this au ok. it's. it's fine. it's not. permanently inscribed on the inside of my skull or anything.#fragment tag #donatello/reader

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eggtrolls · 24 days ago

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The Downton blogging (circa S3E5) will continue until morale improves

Ice in the veins, Kobe of the social scene — Mary Crawley would not, could physically not miss a chance to be ruthless to Edith. She sees Edith from 100 feet away and it’s On Sight. Edith standing in the churchyard about to be married and Mary is like listen we WILL NOT like each other a jot more in the future but good luck I guess. Sybil is lying DEAD on a bed in front of them and Edith is like 🥺 oh Mary 🥺 do you think we might get along a little better in the future? 🥺😭 and Mary just says “I doubt it”. She is a supervillain and I support women’s wrongs.

My favourite half-drowned bear cub of a man, Robert is like ‘no I can’t kick out my tenants who can’t farm and haven’t paid rent since the Norman invasion because they’re OLD wtf do you think I’m MEAN or something????’ and then he turns around and is like ‘but fuck Catholics for real tho lmao am I right or am I right, archbishop of banterbury’

The scene right after Edith gets left at the altar and Robert and Matthew go outside to talk about Reggie Swire’s fortune and the shot is them as tiny ants in the shadow of Downton’s walls…….that’s the shit I like

Cora saying goodbye to Sybil’s corpse with an insanely placid smile and her right (my left) eye twitching the entire time. Again the reminders of Iphigenia vis-a-vis a young woman dying in the house as a sacrifice, thus casting Cora being Clytemnestra which is just deeeeeeeelicious

The only part of Sybil’s death/mourning that actually made me feel some kind of way was Maggie Smith struggling alone with her cane in the hall……how many women has she seen die in childbirth over the last 70 years. Is it even surprising anymore? Does it hurt more or less?

Tom is still busy being fucking useless because he has no real purpose other than being a vague socialist life-size cardboard cut out to eventually be whittled down as a foil to Matthew who is himself being whittled down as a foil to Robert.

Also re: Tom and the Drumgoole house burning, WHY was he surprised by this being upsetting LET ALONE that it happened? He’s like omg I can’t believe I was upset by seeing rich people crying when their house burnt down, but the same fucking guy years ago canonically said nothing bad would happen to the Tsar and his family? Bro? Tf? Did you even do the readings of this shit you’re actively living through, while as a journalist to boot?????

Also also tremendously weak ass shit for him to answer Sybil’s “you didn’t tell me you’d gone to those meetings” with “I didn’t say I hadn’t”. “You didn’t tell me you were part of the Oklahoma City bombings”/“well I didn’t say I wasn’t” ass logic. unsurprising Tom L

Anna’s character is wearing so thin. She really has fuckall personality besides being pert, blonde, and vaguely saintlike while saying mihstehhhh Beyyyyyyyhtś every five minutes like a cuckoo clock

O’Brien playing the long game of slowly nudging Thomas and Jimmy towards each other, knowing it will get Thomas fired if not jailed, is a master class in scheming. Spy novels where the payoff is averting nuclear war are written with less attention to detail than this.

I need Thomas to get a mean lesbian best friend as a counterpoint to season 1 Miss O’Brien but since female sexuality wasn’t discovered in England until the 1970s it’s unlikely to happen :(

Mr Molesley as the permanent straight man of the show is maybe a little stale but it does crack me up every time. Sorry bro

The conversation around Downton as sentient being who kills those who don’t belong (Lavinia, and ultimately, Matthew) or who stray from the fold (Sybil) or those who endangered the Family (Kemal Pamuk) is still super interesting as the later seasons really let Edith hit her stride. It’s pretty clear that the flow of the Downton True Heir is set up as Violet to Robert to Mary but what if not. Mary is the bloodline (via Matthew) and has the money (also via Matthew) and the beauty* but Edith is the care and the maintenance that is completely ESSENTIAL to maintaining a house like Downton: in the little things of arranging seatings for dinners to keep the peace, to bigger things like helping with the Drake’s farm because the estate does boost the house, to her entire arc during S2 with the war. Mary as the roof and Edith as the walls…..let me cook

Lastly:

Okay hear me out but Vera Bates……..….would

*Edith isn’t even actually UNattactive, she just has the combo curse of Too Much Nose and Teeth. Mary’s features are roughly as pretty individually but much better proportioned for her face.

#Downton Abbey

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stedefxckingbonnet · 1 year ago

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part two of the one where reader kills for izzy?! idk im thinking something where the reader starts to get in their head about it since they did swear never to kill anyone and they start panicking after a while and Izzy’s there. i love ur writing ofmhfhf

Hi!! I'm really happy you suggested this—I hope that this second part is just as enjoyable as the first!! and, thank you so much for reading and loving my writing, anon! And, all of you! It really does mean the universe to me and makes my heart soar to bring you all joy! I can't thank you all enough for your everlasting kindnesses. Enjoy!! xx <3

Love,

Lavinia

P.S I hope to crank out at least 1-2 more requests this week before I go out of town and kind of offline for a few days!! Please by all means, keep the requests coming though! I am not overwhelmed and I do not feel obligated by any means—I love getting to write and receiving such wonderful ideas from you all.

Eternity (part 2) | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death (not of a major character or reader!), light angst, kissing, brief mentions of lack of eating due to anxiety, the briefest mention of nausea and nothing past that, the briefest mention of blood, some strong language

Word Count: 2084

The salty sea air that you once adored, that you once could smell for hours and never get sick of, that you wished you could bottle and later open to submerge your senses in at any time entered your nostrils as it usually had and it was almost enough to make you nauseous. You ran off of the deck immediately, abruptly ending your conversation with Lucius, whom you heard tease you for suddenly having sea legs as you exited his sight.

You found yourself back in your quarters and you immediately slammed the door, making sure no one had any ideas of following you. All you wanted to do was hole yourself up in between those four walls and maybe never even show your face to anyone again. You barely left your room nowadays unless it was absolutely called for. Even the confections that Roach prepared just for you were never enough to get you to eat. He had noticed you avoiding the crew during meals more and more, and never finishing the food he prepared specially for you to consume at different times where you could enjoy your solace like you needed sometimes. He didn't even care that you were wasting supplies and rations—he just wanted you to get something on your stomach and to keep in good health. It brought him down that he wasn't able to help you, and soon after, even more of the crew's worry for you only grew, including the captains themselves.

But no one was more concerned than Izzy. Even if they tried to exhibit that they were, he would only throw furious remarks their way until they got it into their pea brains that no one could be as truly uneasy as him, not knowing if you were okay or not. As soon as he came out onto the deck, he noticed you flee, which only made his heart sink into the pit of his stomach even further. Without question, he followed behind you, but when you slammed the door shut, he figured he would give you just a few moments to cool off. He sighed as he leaned against your door, slowly sinking down to the ground to sit before he finally felt in his gut that it was a decent enough time to enter. It would never be a good time, not even an okay time. He had to settle for decent enough, and he was okay with that. He just wanted to make sure you would be alright—he needed to make sure of it. And if he could help in any way at all, he would do so without hesitation.

He could have sworn he heard a few sobs from the other end, and this is when he stood up and inhaled sharply before knocking gently on your door, executing a rhythm that allowed you to know that it was him on the other side. At first, he didn't hear a response, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet, so he rose his hand to knock again, but just as he was about to, you opened the door. His hand quickly shot back down to his side.

"Izzy," you breathed, gently grabbing his forearm and pulling him inside yourself. This time, you quietly shut the door behind you. You let go of your grip of him and immediately plopped onto your bed, face-first. A sigh escaped Izzy's lips as he sat beside you, tracing patterns into the small of your back and eventually beginning to lightly massage your shoulder. He remembered when you shared with him that all of your worries manifested themselves in your shoulders, further creating gordian knots that seemed impossible to undo. You allowed a few sighs of relief to be heard, filling the silence between you and Izzy. He was eternally grateful, for once in his life, for such a silence to be interrupted.

"Are you avoiding me?"

At this, you immediately shot up out of your position. You turned to face him. "What? No, no, Iz—I'm not avoiding you. I promise."

"It feels like it," he slightly turned away so as to conceal the dismay written all over his face. "I don't know what it is that I've done, but whatever it is, I...I'm sorry."

"Izzy," you exhaled, then taking your own turn to rub his back. "I promise you I'm not avoiding you."

"You've been...distant, almost," he pointed out, looking over his shoulder to see your face the best he could. He marveled at the sight of you—even when not fully facing you, even when your cheeks were tear-stained and your appearance more unkept than usual, you were absolutely enchanting. You were more beautiful than any of the wonders of the world that Izzy Hands had encountered, more bewitching than any of the treasures he had acquired and any of the artwork he had laid eyes upon, more enticing than any song he had ever heard. To Izzy, you practically were the definition of beautiful and anything else reminiscent of it.

You gently took hold of his chin and turned him to face you, and he ended up turning his body back around, but your fingers still rested upon his face.

"I'm not trying to be," you spoke sincerely, meeting his eyes. "I just...haven't been feeling very well as of late, I suppose."

"Are you ill?" he inquired, bringing his palm up to your forehead with his ungloved hand. "You feel fine to me...Say, is someone in the crew bothering you? I swear, I'll give them a piece of my mind—"

"Izzy!" you almost laughed. "No, no. Nothing of that sort."

"Then what is it?" he almost demanded. To anyone else, this would have appeared aggressive but you knew this was his way of care towards you shining through. His care for you was like a bright ray of sunshine that still shone through even the darkest of clouds.

"Just exhausted," you shrugged. "I'll be fine soon. Just need to rest more."

You both were no stranger to silence, who decided to visit in this moment. But when it came to you, Izzy didn't quite like the added company of silence, nor its existence between you two at all. Of course, he would be overjoyed to co-exist in one of your quarters whilst silence filled the space—at times like those, its presence was tranquil. But it was the furthest from emitting any feeling of peace right now. Izzy wanted to slash right through it and make sure it never came back.

"I'm not a fool, you know," Izzy spoke against said quiet, almost frowning. "I can tell when something is wrong, especially with you. You're avoiding everyone, including me. You haven't eaten in days, and don't try and deny it—Roach told me. Approached me himself."

You bit your lip until you drew a few droplets of blood, which cascaded down your chin. Izzy sighed, wiping the trail that had formed off of your face with his ungloved hand. Once you were clear of any redness that wasn't already natural and apparent on your face, his hand lingered upon it for a moment as he got lost in your eyes.

"You can tell me anything," he promised you as a soft smile overtook him. "I just want you to be okay. I want to help you, believe it or not."

At this, you couldn't hold any of it back anymore. Tears immediately flew out of your eyes and landed on yours and Izzy's clothes, sobs escaped your mouth—you could hardly stand to look at Izzy, and you could hardly even sit. Before you knew it, you collapsed into Izzy, your head on his lap and your legs dangling off your cot. "Every day I'm so fucking guilty, Izzy. I can't sleep because I just—I just see blood, everywhere. I feel that shop owner's final breath on my neck every time there's any sort of breeze, so, always. And because I'm not getting enough sleep, I'm fucking seeing things, like his ghost or something, and I just—I'm a murderer, Izzy. Oh my god—I'm a murderer, I'm absolutely horrible..."

As you panicked, Izzy held you close to him, softly stroking your hair and listening intently. He tried his best to soothe you, often repeating things such as "it's okay" while you continued to sob into his leathers.

"It's okay, love," he added onto the last one, which took him way too much courage to do than he would ever admit. You looked up at him with a hopeful gleam in your eye, and that's when it hit Izzy, that's when he realized exactly what you needed from him. He breathed in as much of the air as he could and released a good amount of it back into the atmosphere before he opened his mouth to speak. "I know that killing another person is so fucking haunting. My first kill honestly messed me up, and Blackbeard's messed him up even worse. But you aren't a murderer or a killer, my love. You're my savior, if anything. You saved my life. And it sucks that the only way to do that was by ending someone else's, I know, but that was the only way. Maybe there was, but there wasn't any time to think of that. You're a problem-solver, and you saved me. I know it feels like what you did was wrong, I know it can feel like that. But you are the furthest thing from a bad person. Look, I know I may not be the best with words. but I am telling the truth. And I don't resent you for having to do what you did, nor does the crew or your captains. It was a difficult fucking position to be put in, and one you shouldn't have even been in at all. And I'm so sorry that trying to do a good thing came with all of these awful, awful feelings. I would never have wanted you to save me that day if I knew you'd be feeling even half of this."

By the time Izzy was done speaking, he felt winded. He sort of laughed at how deep of a breath he had to take. He quickly looked over at you to see any sign that anything that he had just said helped you or reached you in any capacity. He quickly grew self conscious, wondering if he said anything remotely of help or if he just sounded like a complete dick. He opened his mouth to speak once again, in hopes that maybe he could correct all his supposed mistakes, but before a sound could escape him, you wrapped your arms around him, practically tackling him as you did so. Izzy let out a gasp, but he, as if it were almost instinct, held your arms with his hands. He melted into your embrace, and felt more content than he had ever felt. He would be okay with staying in this moment for all eternity, if he could.

"I love you, Israel."

The words left your lips before you could even realize that was what you were about to say, to express. Your breath hitched, and you almost couldn't meet eyes with Izzy anymore, but you couldn't help but glimpse over at him, desperate for his response, even if he couldn't return your sentiment just yet—or ever, really. You knew that what the two of you shared was special and beyond words and normalcy and maybe it even transcended the confines and limitations of life and love itself, but you understood if love was not in the picture for him at all. Maybe what the two of you shared wasn't that special or that transcendental. But before you knew it and before you could doubt yourself anymore, Izzy's lips were on yours. This was only the second time you had shared a kiss since you saved him and this time it was filled with even further intensity and warmth, and even almost this sort of hunger, this craving for you. You honestly didn't even need verbal confirmation from the man anymore—you knew your connection didn't need to be spelled out so directly, and perhaps what you felt for one another couldn't be reduced to love. But when the two of you pulled apart at the same time, foreheads still touching and lips still pressed closely upon one another, Izzy, with such earnest conviction, spoke the clearest he ever had.

"I love you, darling. For all of eternity, and whatever awaits us beyond it. I promise."

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fuokir · 2 years ago

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Aena Florence Cowell - Profile

◊ Basic Information ◊

▹ Gender: Female ▹ Date of birth: 19th of February ▹ MBTI: Defender ISFJ-A ▹ Nationality: British | Welsh ▹ Blood status: Pure-blood ▹ Wand: English Oak Wood | Unicorn Core | 14 ½" Length | Slightly Springy flexibility ▹ Nickname: - ▹ House: Slytherin ▹ Patronus: Red Squirrel ▹ Boggart: Dragon/Fire ▹ Amortentia: Juniper, menthol, lime ▹ Animagus: -

◊ Appearance ◊

Aena is slightly above average height. She has long blond hair, to be honest it's hard to say what color, her hair was once very burned out in the sun, I would call it a pearl blond, with a warm undertone. Violet eyes, in her favorite sly squint. A long, straight nose, it is very easy for them to get into other people's business. Freckled skin and two facial scars.

▹ Clothing style: Ready to dress up in anything, the main thing is that it be washed and ironed. She loves trendy blouses and comfortable shoes, otherwise she just wants to look neat. ▹ Accessories: Silver earrings. A brooch with which she secures a bow on her collar. ▹ Other distinguishing features: Two scars. First received before Hogwarts, her younger sister hit her with a candlestick in a fit of rage. This scar cuts through her upper lip. The second one was obtained approximately between 4-6 class step (I still haven't decided) in a fight with Aisha. This scar is located across the bridge of the nose.

◊ Personality ◊

Aena is a person who values connections very much, and, first of all, values her own comfort. She can come across as rude due to her bluntness, although she usually tries to choose her words. For close people, Aena is the figure of an older sister, patronizing and ready to help with deed or advice. She is still clueless in conversation, but it has its own charm. If you come to her in a bad mood or in tears, she will definitely coo around you and if words do not help, then be sure that you will be taken to have fun in Hogsmeade, even if Professor Weasley did not give permission to visit the village. Due to her rather reserved nature, it is very difficult to catch her own resentment or bad mood. As a rule, she suppresses bad emotions if the pressure on her is very strong. Cowell is inclined to break loose on someone, but more often than something (Ferdinand Octavius Pratt will never forgive her for his torn portrait that once hung in the Trophy Hall). Otherwise, she learned to live such moments in herself, not wanting to impose her problems.

▹ Traits: Self-confident, imposing, diligent, cunning, communicable. ▹ Likes: Feeling of winning, gift gifts to friends and family (she is one of those people who will see a wild flower, remember you and pick it to give), To speak caustically. ▹ Dislikes: Gobstones, hates all kinds of sweets and candies (childhood trauma). ▹ Good at: Chess, persuasion, remember things quickly. ▹ Bad at: Flying on a broom (she gets motion sick), to be tact. ▹ Hobbies: Board games, Herbarium, calligraphy. ▹ Fears: Fire, fatal disease. ▹ Ambition: Become an influential person in the magical world.

◊ Family ◊

▹Father: Ambrose Thomas Cowell ▹Mother: Lavinia Marjorie Cowell (nee Brown) ▹Sibling: Aeva Francis Cowell (little sister) | Darcia Arthur Cowell (little brother) ▹ Paternal grandparents: Bertram Caspar Cowell and Marjorie Rose Cowell ▹Maternal grandparents: They do not communicate for one reason or another / Aena does not know them, as much.. ▹ Other noteworthy relatives: Angus Beresford Cowell (uncle), Anna Rayne Brown (aunt), Victor Brown (cousin), Cain Beresford Brown (cousin, illegitimate son of Anna and Angus).

▹ Pet: Couple Mooncalfs and Jobberknoll ▹ Family home: Cardiff ▹ Blood Status: Pure-Blood ▹ Social standing: Middle class family, i guess... Aristocracy? ▹ Family background: The relationship between the Browns and the Cowells became very tense after the announcement of the engagement between Lavinia and Ambrose. Both Aena's parents were strong-willed and strong-willed, and although the families did not want this union, in fear that the newlyweds would quickly fall out of love with each other when they were drawn into the routine, this did not happen. The birth of Aena, the first-born, was not accepted by applause, the parents were still very young, just about to graduate from Hogwarts. it was also that Anna, Lavinia's cousin, and Angus, Ambrose's brother, were not careful and their families found out about their union. And although the Cowells, as a fairly young purebred family, were not well known, everyone whispered about the Browns. This angered the Browns and almost all ties between the families were cut off. This did not prevent the girl from growing up in love and care, even in some kind of permissiveness. Aena was a mischievous child. In particular, she adopted the confidence of her father, and inherited from her mother an unshakable determination. Of course her uncle Angus, who frequents them (living for a while with his brother and his family), also contributed. He was cunning, playful, witty and an excellent gambler. During the early years of Ambrose and Lavinia's marriage, he often stayed to babysit his niece while his brother and his wife worked at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It would be nonsense if, in the end, Aena did not learn to play almost as well as her uncle. Over time, her sister was born, and now not only Angus was the nanny, but Aena herself, because her sister turned out to be a completely restless child.

The Cowell family can be safely called an example of a healthy family, where everyone listens and hears each other. Where conflicts are not hushed up, but resolved. In their house there is always an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Family members value each other, they will never refuse to help friends and relatives. Her parents still work in a bank. Grandfather was an Auror, and her grandmother worked as a curse breaker. Her uncle Angus does not work anywhere, but thanks to his skill as a card sharper, he squanders money in all directions.

◊ Relationships ◊

It is difficult to write down with whom Alena is friends to one degree or another, since she tends to call a friend a person with whom she communicated a couple of times both of them at school. Anyway, she was the most frequent communication with Amit Thakkar, Aisha Werdy(oc), Grace Pinch-Smedley and Imelda Reyes. With the advent of the New Fifth Year, Aena's friend list has become noticeably larger! Since the fifth year, a new student has appeared in Cowell's inner circle (I would like to use a specific character, but I love many MCs so much … this is a difficult choice for me, in general, your character could be here !!!). Through the new fifth year, Aena became closer to Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. This was an interesting experience for Aena, who was very prejudiced against Gaunt due to rumors and stories from her parents. Although her parents did not want to appear biased, because they had also been the subject of all sorts of dirty rumors before, they were very afraid of ties with the Gaunts. Interestingly, thanks to MC, Cowell stopped communicating with Cressida Blume. One day, Aena managed to overhear a conversation between a newcomer and Ominis in the Hogwarts library, where the MC told in detail what he had read in a Gryffindor girl's diary. She also had a quarrel with Imelda for a while, Reyes was tirelessly talking dirty about the new one and Aena was so tired of it that she asked Imelda not to talk to her until it was all over.

Any more serious and romantic feelings were alien to Aena for a long time. Probably the culprit was gambling, through which she received joy and adrenaline. When she was strictly banned from playing within the walls of the school for as much as 2 years, for Cowell it was a global catastrophe. She was still holding small sessions of games in Hogsmeade, Aena could not find a place for herself and did not know what to do. She struggled with background anxiety for a long time, at some point losing any interest in games. Ominis became her distraction. They bumped into each other on the way to Hogsmeade, talking. Gaunt had another problem with his parents (and more problems with Sebastian), Aena had complete emptiness and disappointment in herself as a person (she was really ashamed of her actions). The Slytherins entered into a playful agreement, Aena helped the boy create the appearance of the life that the Gaunts wanted for him (minimal, but this, as it turned out, was enough), and in return Ominis was supposed to simply brighten up Aena's especially lonely days. And so, with slow steps, they became closer and closer to each other.

◊ little things ◊

Heather Mason - Silent Hill 3

Dana Scully - X-Files

Morrigan - Dragon age:Origins

Suki - ATLA

Princess Leia Organa - Star Wars

Rhaenys Targaryen - House of the Dragon

#hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #aena cowell #hphl #hphl mc #hp oc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc

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