#I thought that was a fucking myth and a joke when it started circling around

[catcatb0y]

Me: I am having a really bad brain day. Like all it takes is one little push and I'm gonna fall apart.

Tumblr: Do yoy want BPD memes??? Constantly tagged 'Actual BPD' and 'Borderline Personality Disorder' and 'BPD Mood'???

Me: Ah shit, why are those relatable wtf??

Tumblr: How about self harm posts that type like tw cvts and s3lf ha//rm and censor d3press10n

Me: Wow I magically don't feel like I'm spralling into insanity.

PSA don't censor your goddamned fucking tags. If you're gonna post about cutting and self harm and smoking and replasing and you fucking type it out like #cvts s3lf #ha//rm #d3press10n go back to fucking Twitter and TikTok or learn to properly tag your goddamned shit.

Stop censoring your fucking trigger tags, you assholes. No one is going to learn fifty different fucking ways that you want to spell legitamate fucking triggers because you are typing in The TikTokified Fucking L33T sp34k.

If you're fucking tagging a goddamned trigger, type out the whole fucking word. People blocking out #pro ed and #self harm (like me!! who has both of those tags blocked!!) STILL sees your fucking vent posts because y0y typ3 l!k3 th1s so no 0ne s//ees y0ur posts while you romanticize being a direct danger to yourself.

[mythicalmyles]

MYTH! Its been awhile! How are you doing? Btw im doing great!

Can i req something about like reader getting fucked stupid by a perverted and horny killer while he's walking through the woods? Like reader and his friends were just having a stroll in the woods and they end up splitting ways and reader got lost, his friends were trying to call him but he seems to left his phone in his house so they decide to look for him but they end up saw him butt naked and someone fucking him from behind!

You can choose any kinks if you want! I wont mind (Tbh your kinks and writings are the best!! And you never fail to make my day the best!!)

I hope toby is oke 🥺

Blackmail, dubcon, public, sub/bottom reader, violent, dark themes, quicky

(Name) let out an exasperated sigh as he stun in a circle, trees filling his vision. He began hating them, the dark beginning to freak him out now he was completely alone.

He paused as he spotted a hooded figure, heart beating faster. He quickly made his way to the figure assuming it was one of his friends, however dread filled him when a masked face turned to him. They stared at each other for a moment before (Names) shaky voice broke the silence. “I-if this is a joke, its not fu-funny.” He stuttered out, trying not to bolt.

Almost tauntingly the figure tilted its head, the size and build of him being unfamiliar and sending raw fear into (Names) stomach. Before (Name) could even draw another breath he was slammed against a tree, vision dancing as the bark scraped his skin. All he could do was choke out a rasp before an arm pressed against his throat, holding him into the tree. His vision started blurring as he stared into goggle covered eyes.

White fear flooded (Names) head as he gazed at the other man, stomach twisting with fear. All (Name) could do was whimper. “You wanna live?” (Name) nodded rapidly, the mans arm limiting his movements. “You make me cum, you get to live.” (Name) bit his lip, nodding again as he stared into the others eyes. “Toby, you’re gonna remember it.” (Name) shivered as he was turned around, Toby’s hands leaving indents in his hips.

“Pretty little thing, shouldn’t be out here all alone. There’s bad men out here, your lucky i found you.” Toby’s voice was laced with psychopathy, his tone almost gleeful as he made quick work of your jeans. He used (Names) own belt to bind his arms together behind his back, laughing when he voiced his discomfort. “Don’t worry princess, you’ll be just fine.” Was all the warning he got before Toby’s cock began pushing against his hole. A loud groan left (Name) as Toby slid into him, only his spit as lube.

Toby wasted no time before sliding out only to slam back in, a fiendish grin coating his cheeks as he listened to (Name) scream. Toby knew he wouldn’t have much time, not doubting for a moment that others heard it and would come looking. The thought didn’t stop Toby, rather seeming to spur him on as he set an almost brutal pace. All (Name) could do was moan, he could barely think as Toby’s cock split him open.

Toby stumbled back from the tree, pulling (Name) with him, continuing his thrusts ever moan he drew from the smaller spurring him on. His hand wrapped around (Names) neck and it wasn’t long before Toby’s hand was soaked in drool. The sudden appearance of three guys threw him for a moment, a dangerous smirk quick to slap over his face. He purposely sped up his thrusts as (Name) babbled, trying to explain himself. Toby’s murderous glare was quick to make them leave, the feeling of (Names) tight ass wrapped around his cock drove him insane, arms wrapping around him and gripping him tightly as he dove his cock into the (h/c). “Thats it pretty boy, all your friends just watched you get fucked. Bet you liked it, whore.” Despite the venom and hate in Toby’s words it didn’t stop (Name) screaming his name one last tome before falling into his arms, allowing the brunet to do as he pleased.

(Names) body ached as Toby rode out his orgasm, his large hands felt like they were going to crush him. Lucky for (Name) Toby came quick, pulling out and watching him drop. Toby’s empty eyes stared down at him. “You’ve probably got five minutes before the others are here and they cut that pretty throat open.” (Names) eyes doubled as he stared back at Toby, stomach going woozy at the sight of his smirk.

(Name) took a deep breath before rushing into a sprint, ignoring the burn at the bottom of his spine and the ghost of Toby’s hands crushing his hips.

[okaywhatsoever]

Step to the new chapter.

Yesterday I noticed that my so-called ex got a new partner. It broke me again, as much as the day he left me without saying anything. Yes, that's what this asshole did to me. And now he's happy with a new girl.

How should I feel? At first, I felt in the depth of despair and I even wished hell for them. I thought as if they went through all the fucking phases in their life. Then I recalled all he did to me last year. He used to be so kind to me, so lovely and I felt like he's the only one for me, I even thought as if falling in love had been a person, so he would definitely worked it. But then one day, without any explanation, he dumped me. He left without saying any fucking word. When I asked, he simply said: "That's the way things should go". I was like wtf are you kidding me? Last night we were more than fine and now this is your attitude??? I was totally broken inside. I have like thousands of questions at that time. What did I do? At which point that I do the wrong things that vexed him? Why did he hate me so much that he decided to ghost me that way? My mind was spinning around the days after.

And now he is so sweet to the new girl on her, just exactly the way he used to treat me. Part of me considers it as ridiculous. He's just same old style to the girls. Soon, he will come back to the way he used to be, it's inevitable. But sometimes when I think about him, it makes me kind of sad that what did I do to deserve that side of him.

He was once the one. But what if the "one" is just a myth? What if it'd better be about the one to accompany me for stages in life, rather than my whole entire life? This new kind of idea put a totally different perspective about relationships. We have relationships to learn how to interact with other people, but also, to learn about ourselves. You can’t hide personality flaws within a relationship and sometimes, specific people come into our life to bring that flaw into focus, so that we have an opportunity to address it.

I'm trying to consider this in the new girl's point of view.

She meets some random guy at some point in time, HE is probably pursuing her like crazy. Lovely jokes, sweet cares and so many deep conversations through days and nights. All she thinks is that she has met this amazing flawless man who she could not believe how “bad” YOU treated him. He is putting in full effort because he wants her to commit to him.

And at some point , his flaws will start to expose themselves, no one can upkeep the perfect partner for ever.

Once they are comfy eventually he will go to being the same way he was with you, its inevitable. The only difference is his new girlfriend, she may be weak and take it for years, or be strong and kick him out at the first sign.

Don't worry about what hes doing with her. Why? Because you have equal power to do more with someone else aswell, the betrayed always have an upper hand over the betrayers. Betrayers never learn their lesson on their own, which keeps them going in and endless circle. Karma is the only way for them to learn, and often they cannot even swallow that pill.

[gingersnaaps]

at your window

hanahaki: the fictional disease where a person, afflicted by unrequited love, grows flowers in their lungs and stomach. unless the love is reciprocated, the disease will grow fatal. there's one workaround, though - one that issei matsukawa is very interested in: the plant can be physically removed.

wc: ~3.8k

tags/tw's(PLEASE PLEASE READ): n*fw, masturbation only(no sex), stalking, snuff, gore, blood, yandere!matsukawa, sorta necro(attraction but not sex), noncon filming, fem!reader but no mention of genitals

a/n: for @suedebunn's april showers collab // this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written and i spent way too long on it. it's supposed to lean towards horror?

i don't want minors interacting with my content

March 8th, 2013

[12:47 am]

The longer Issei sits outside your window, the harder it becomes to stop himself.

His face is pressed up against the dusty glass pane, peering inside at the outline of your sleeping body, and he finds that he can’t help but fixate on it. You look so peaceful, so tranquil, completely at rest as your mind flits between the shadowy realms that dreams inhabit.

He wonders what kind of wonderland you’re in right now - if it’s cotton-candy pink and delightful, just like you, or dark and hazy and spun with danger.

You’d look beautiful in any setting, he thinks, and finds his hand inadvertently drifting downwards.

His gaze rakes over the rise and fall of your chest, taking in the flashes of bare skin where your sheer nightgown rides up, his breath catching as his palm glides over his clothed cock. The friction feels so good - there’s no question that he wants this, needs this - and he wastes no time unzipping his pants and reaching in to free his dick. He doesn’t need to fantasize much, not when you’re mere feet away, instead making sure he sears every detail of your sleeping form into his mind: your fluttering eyelashes, your shallow breaths, the soft glow of your skin in the moonlight.

Issei quickens his pace, stroking up and down the shaft of his cock with purpose, thumb flicking over the slit. His breath huffs against the glass, clouding the surface until it’s dripping with condensation, but he still sees you as clear as day in his mind even as the real image of you blurs. You’re blissed out and relaxed, shoulders free of tension, your lips curving slightly into a smile.

He closes his eyes, rolling his head back as he works his cock, every single brush of his fingers leaving him twitching with sensitivity. You look like an angel, picture-perfect and frozen in time and consciousness, as if you were a framed picture or a museum exhibit preserved just for Issei to admire. Just for Issei. He lets out a quiet groan at the thought as he cums, his hips stuttering and cock jerking up.

You turn over fitfully in your sleep.

Looking down at the cum dripping off his fingers, he wants nothing more than to crawl in through your window and wipe it on your face. It’s an unmistakable mark of ownership, a sign that you belong to him alone, but he hesitates. He’s a bit of a shy guy, you see.

He can wait.

-

March 14th, 2013

[10:01 pm]

He has to conceal himself a bit better tonight than he would on his normal visits. This time, he’s a bit early, and you’re still awake.

His back is up against the siding of your house, right beside your window, but he can still see you in the periphery of his vision. You’re sitting at your desk, bathed in the warm light of your desk lamp, hunched over some math worksheet and scribbling furiously with the pencil in your hand.

Forget the moon; you glow even prettier as the world around you fades to dark.

Just like every other night, he takes in every detail meticulously. Your hair is messier than it was the previous day - maybe you hadn’t washed it in a while? He doesn’t mind, because it’s endearing when you’re messy and imperfect, barefaced in your pajamas, a little rough around the edges.

He thinks it’s similar to the way you’d look after being fucked stupid, if he closed his eyes and tried to picture you being ruined.

Issei tries very hard to ignore the way his cock strains in his pants at the thought.

-

March 23, 2013

[11:30 pm]

The mild spring breeze carries the sweet scent of fresh blossoms and green grass, leaving behind the wintry chill that he had to shiver through each night to be at your side - well, as close by your side as he could get.

These little visits have become a part of his life now, as ingrained as waking up in the morning or eating three times a day. It’s comforting for him to watch you from his spot outside your window each night, admiring you as you go about your nighttime routine, puttering from your desk to your bathroom to your bedroom.

He’s started to take some pictures, maybe even a shaky, pixelated video or two, just to tide him over when he’s alone by himself. They’re no replacement for the real thing, obviously, but it’s enough for him to be able to carry around a reminder of the way you look and sound all the time, even if it’s just a shadow of what you’re like in person. He’ll scroll through his camera roll, fingers trembling with excitement, hissing as he brings his hand down to stroke at his cock.

It’s always better in person, though. He sees you more clearly, hears the sound of your voice muffled through the walls, and most of all, he’s closer to you.

Issei likes to make it last, likes to prolong the pleasure as much as possible, so he always starts off with slow, gentle, pumps, gliding up and down his cock with his index finger and thumb curled into a circle. It’s honestly a miracle how you haven’t noticed yet, because he always tends to lose himself after he starts.

Face pressed close against the window in order to get the best view possible, his warm huffs of breath cloud up the cold glass as he strokes himself faster. His eyes rolling back into his head, his two digits of measured stimulation give way quickly to full, hard, pumps of his cock until soft moans start to spill from his mouth.

It’s hard to resist when you’re right there.

Tonight, you’re sprawled out on your bed, phone held above your face as you chat with your friend on video call. You’re shaking with laughter at some silly joke your friend’s telling, head thrown back and chin tilted upwards, face shining with joy, and he suddenly feels a warm, warm feeling of arousal course through him.

Seeing you happy turns him on, makes his cock so hard even though he just came minutes prior.

The sound of your voice carries through the walls, carefree and bright, chattering on and on about some assignment - or maybe it’s a complaint about the teacher, he’s not too sure - and he smiles contentedly at your silly little worries. Too cute, really.

You suddenly cough.

It’s an ugly sound, dry and strangled, and he cringes at the way your body tenses up and shakes. The coughing fit feels far longer than it actually is; every second of your hacking and wheezing is compounded by the panic gripping him. He watches, helpless, as your face turns ashen and grey, his heart seizing with dread and pounding in his chest.

It’s over as quickly as it begins.

You smile weakly, brushing it off as you apologize to your friend, but he can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles at the pit of his stomach. He tugs up his pants, bare thighs and dick feeling awfully exposed in the night wind, and scurries back home. Maybe another night, then.

-

April 1st, 2013

[12:09 am]

You’re not in your room today.

Issei leans his head against the cold glass of your windowpane, hands shoved into his jacket, his mind clouding at the edges and overrun with possibilities. He doesn’t recall seeing you making plans with friends the previous night, and there’s not much you could be really doing right now - you have no boyfriend, no plans that he knows of, no real reason to just be gone.

He’s always thought of himself as a calm person. He doesn’t fall victim to temporary urges and flights of emotion the same way that Oikawa or Iwaizumi might, doesn’t do anything reckless on whims he knows will disappear just hours later.

But there’s just something about you that always makes him lose himself, isn’t there?

The window is fogged up with condensation, obscuring his view inside your room. He reaches out the sleeve of his jacket, wiping away the dew clinging to the surface, and squints as he tries to make out the scene in the dim lighting.

On the floor, awash in a pool of moonlight, lies a yellow flower petal spattered with blood.

-

April 4th, 2013

[4:46 am]

Issei’s not stupid.

He knows what the flower petal means, knows what your sickness means. He’s read about it in books, heard the tales from his parents friends, the whispered legends and hushed myths that make one thing clear:

You belong to someone else.

It’s a thought that fills him with revulsion. You already have Issei; is he not enough for you? Are you such a whore that his devotion falls short of what you’re so clearly greedy for?

He’s stopped restricting himself to just his nightly visits. They’re not enough, not when he can’t seem to go five minutes without his thoughts inevitably drifting to you - you in your fluttery, sheer nightgown, lying in your bed, your frame growing sicker and frailer as the blood drains from your cheeks and your coughing fits grow more frequent.

You can hide it from the prying eyes of your friends at school, from your teachers, even from your parents(as long as you make sure to roll your eyes a few times and lean into that murky, illusory persona of teenage angst), but here in your bedroom, your sanctuary, all your vulnerabilities crawl out and bubble to the surface, bared to your four off-white walls and his eyes only.

You can’t hide this from Issei; not the symptoms, and certainly not the disease.

He sets his alarm every day early enough to hear the nighttime croaking of frogs, the shrill, insistent chirping of cicadas, hours before the sky bleeds daylight, making his way over to your house. He stands outside, silent, his fingers pressed up against the window.

He doesn’t know why he goes anymore. You look ugly when you’re sick. Your healthy complexion has given way to grey, and his dick goes limp every time he tries to jerk himself off. It’s a reminder of the fact that he can’t ever have you the way he used to dream about: lively, healthy, and wholly devoted to him and him alone.

At this point, the pictures and videos of you are the only thing he has left, a pitiful reminder of everything you used to be. He has no use for those other girls from porn sites online, or even the scantily clad social media posts of his classmates. Issei only wants you, but you aren’t quite who you used to be, and every time he trudges home after staring through that stupid window, there’s always a bitter aftertaste in his mouth that makes his blood curdle.

It’s not that he’s jealous, exactly. He doesn’t really give a fuck who you’re pining after, because it’s you he cares about. He wants to own you, to possess your body, mind, and soul, wants you to end up at his side one day, acknowledging him with tears brimming in your lovely eyes, voice raw and hoarse as you chant thank you Issei, thank you, thank you for watching over me, Issei, i’m yours, Issei, i love you, Issei

Maybe it’s no wonder he can’t stop thinking about you.

-

April 19th, 2013

[11:52 pm]

He finds you passed out on the floor, surrounded by crumpled piles of faded carnation petals. They’re a sickly yellow, browning at the edges, tinged with blood and vomit and spit. It’s a scene straight out of a movie, illuminated by the waning moon, the cold, pale, uneven light casting shadows that dance across your body.

-

April 24th, 2013

[2:03 am]

Issei is nothing if not a practical man. If there’s a problem, he’s going to fix it.

He’s had enough of waiting, anyway.

-

April 25th, 2013

[12:00 am]

He’s never actually been inside your room before. It’s eerily quiet, save for your shallow, rapid breaths, all outside noises absorbed by the walls and curtains. It almost feels like he’s dreaming as he makes his way over to your bedside, his shadow stretching and bending in the distorted light like those funhouse mirror reflections.

Your lips are parted slightly, mouth agape as if in waiting, and he can’t help but run a finger along your cracked, ashen lips.

Issei shivers.

He’s never been quite so close to you before. It’s almost anticlimactic, the way he ends up at your side. He won’t lie; he had been hoping for a different ending, one with more sunshine and roses, one where you’d be smiling happily by his side as he tenderly holds your hand.

But he can’t change the way things are, and he’s more than willing to make the best of what he’s got.

He doesn’t have any surgical tools that might’ve been more fitting, but he supposes a kitchen knife - one he’d sharpened just yesterday - should work well enough. He runs a finger along the back of the gleaming metal, admiring the way it glints, brilliant and blinding, even in the midst of the dim room.

The old, worn, bed creaks beneath him as he climbs carefully on top of you, straddling your torso, taking care not to place too much pressure on your body. He reaches out to caress your face, brushing a loose strand of hair aside as he appraises you. In sickness, you were nowhere near as beautiful as you were before, but your proximity almost makes up for it; Issei can feel your heart thrumming beneath your skin, can feel the huff of your breath on his hand as your chest rises and falls.

He almost regrets having to do this.

Bringing the blade up to your chest, he begins to cut through your paper-thin nightgown. As the fabric rips, it falls to either side to reveal your chest, and his breath catches. The soft curve of your tits are stained with red, little green buds of growth peeking out from your chest and between your ribs. Blood blooms across your skin, thorns and stems pricking out from the smooth surface of your skin, standing out in stark relief as the sick, twisted, unnatural growth threatens to burst out of your body.

He flutters his fingers along your delicate skin, trailing gentle touches down your stomach, completely absorbed in the way you look and feel.

So absorbed, in fact, that he almost doesn’t notice the way you tense, eyes blinking awake, as pain lances through your body.

Issei’s quick, though - far quicker than you, at least, and by the time you open your mouth to scream, fear catching in your throat, he shoves a large hand over your mouth to muffle any of the unpleasant noises that threaten to spill out.

“Shh,” he whispers, voice hoarse and foreign in his own chest. He’s not used to speaking to you. “If you don’t hold still, it’s going to hurt even more.”

You freeze in terror at the implications of his words, eyes catching on the blade pointed at your chest. There’s a sudden urge to lash out, to fight back - but it quickly passes. You’re not stupid.

You know that he’s far stronger than you, far faster, and as his calm, remorseless gaze latches onto your body, you realize very quickly that any resistance would be futile.

He begins his work as soon as he feels you go limp beneath him. You’re still trembling slightly, shivering from both the fear and the cold, completely exposed, completely at his mercy. You’re still not sure who he is; maybe you’ve caught a glimpse or two of him in your classes in the past, but for the most part, he’s still a complete stranger.

Issei, on the other hand, knows you very well.

As the knife slips beneath your soft flesh, your bed quickly turns into a sea of scarlet, of vermilion and ruby, of wine-red blood that grows from a trickle to a stream to a rushing, spurting mess that stains your sheets and spills onto the floor. He can feel the spatters of your blood on his face, his clothes, can see the periphery of his vision growing red as the blank, white walls turn crimson.

He finds it’s a bit difficult to hold himself back.

Cutting you up feels like catharsis to him. He’s never seen you quite like this before, but he thinks this version of you looks very pretty, your eyes rolling back into your head, your chest shaking uncontrollably as he rips his knife through your flesh over and over again. A small, barely audible whimper slips from your lips, and he feels a shuddering mix of pleasure and revulsion wash over him.

The stark white of your bone peeks through the ripped, bloody mess. Perhaps he’s finally gone far enough.

There’s no slit or hole for him to find - he wasn’t quite so careful - but he reaches a hand in to dig around at what used to be your stomach, and begins to pull out the flowers from the roots. They’ve spread to your lungs, climbed almost all the way up your throat, the green stems and yellow flowers twisting and threading between your organs and ribs. He removes them one by one, meticulous and careful, tossing them aside as he searches and prods and kills every last trace of your disease.

The lungs are by far the hardest for him, the branches of tissue packed densely with blood vessels and capillaries, and he has to pry the clusters apart to remove the growth that’s embedded itself within the organ.

If you think about it, he’s really doing you a favor.

A wave of relief courses through him when he’s finally finished. It’s unfortunate that it had to end this way, with your face screwed permanently into that pained, tortured expression, but it’s nothing he can’t fix - he brings a bloody finger up and adjusts your features until they resemble something slightly more pleasant.

There’s no heartbeat anymore, he realizes, no rhythm thrumming and pulsing beneath your skin.

He climbs off of you awkwardly, swinging his legs back over the bed. The quilt, pooled around your ankles, is still remarkably clean considering what the rest of the room had been through, and he pulls the soft, white cover over your mangled body until it comes up to your chin.

If he moves backwards a little and squints, it’s almost like you’re still asleep.

And if he tries really hard, uses his imagination to fill in the gaps and blot out the unnecessary bits, the blood smeared on your cheeks and lips almost seems like makeup, covering up that ugly, ashen complexion from your sickness, like a rosy imitation of what he used to find so beautiful.

Maybe it’s all in his mind, but he thinks you really do look better dead than sick.

He knows it’s not right.

He knows he shouldn’t.

He also can’t quite bring himself to care.

Cursing softly under his breath, he hand wanders until it finds the growing outline of the bulge in his pants. It feels so good to do it right in front of you, especially when you look better than he’d seen you in weeks(as long as he sort of squints), and he shudders with pleasure as he palms his cock slowly.

He usually likes to hold back a little, but there’s really no point this time - it’s the last time he’ll ever be this close to you, so he might as well make the best of it, right?

His cock is rock hard and dripping with precum by now, straining with arousal against the pressure of his fist, gliding and stroking along his curved, thick length until he begins to feel that warm heat coiling in his stomach. He kind of wishes that you were still alive to see him jerking off to your perfect face, pumping his cock desperately as he fixates on the fake blush of your skin. It’s almost exactly how you look before you fell sick - minus the gore splattered on your sheets, of course - as long as he pretends that you’re still breathing, that your pulse is still thrumming steadily beneath those soft, white quilts.

He fists his cock a bit faster, rhythm increasing as he feels his balls growing heavier, his dick flushed and desperate for release. Although he’s sad that you’d never be able to fully participate, he supposes it’s for the best.

Better dead than hung up on someone else, right?

As he turns his gaze back onto the flowers he’d ripped out from your chest cavity, he feels a perverse burst of pleasure coursing through him. He can’t help but feel proud of the way he’s made everything right, how he’d gotten rid of that annoying little crush you’d been harboring for weeks. If he closes his eyes, he can almost see the way you’re thanking him from the afterlife, tears of gratitude and joy in your eyes at the freedom he’s finally given you.

Issei finishes with a low, pleasured, groan, his cum spilling into his waiting hand as he strokes himself through his orgasm. It’s one of the strongest orgasms he’s had in quite some time, and he can’t help but think it’s the commemoration you deserve.

As the blood rushing in his eardrums slows, the hazy, uncertain world around him seems to stop spinning, and he feels himself being pulled back down from his high. If he strains his senses, he can hear the nighttime din through your walls, quiet and ever-present. He looks outside, the streetlamps flickering dimly, staring off into the inky stillness of the star-lit night.

Funny that he’s finally on the other side of your window.

Maybe he should leave you one last present.

-

April 26th, 2013

[9:00 am]

When they find you in your bed the next morning, your mother screams and your father cries.

They never saw it coming, did they? You were a good girl, someone who always did what they were supposed to do, said what others told them to say, acted exactly how they expected you to. Never got yourself into the slightest hint of trouble.

It’s a horrific scene: their precious daughter, limbs mangled and organs torn up, stomach and chest cut wide open as if straight from a horror movie. The room seems to swirl with hostility, and the four walls, once your sanctuary, had turned into an image of brutal, bloody, violence - with your body as the centerpiece.

It’s not until they step closer that they realize the dried, white, glaze on your face is cum.

[dickwheelie]

Some soft Jmart cuddles but in some kind of au of your choosing? Maybe from one of those generic "fanfic au prompt" lists?

ohhh Oran u spoil me....I don’t have any of those lists on hand BUT I would like an excuse to do something for my spooky mer jon au!

EDIT: oh my god Oran I. forgot that you asked for cuddles. I wrote this whole thing and there are no cuddles in it fjkfksdf I am so sorry. I’ll make it up to you but it’s late so have this for now! I’ll do a sequel for it probably tomorrow with actual cuddles. fuck I can’t believe I missed that lmaoooo sorry againnnnn

____________

Martin had heard the rumors, of course. Myths. Legends. Whatever you wanted to call them. Stories of dubious legitimacy about the creature that lurked in the waters of the bay that bordered their tiny village, who was either a menace or a blessing, depending on who you asked. The woman who sold flowers at the market said it had once frightened her daughter while she was playing in a tide pool. One of the grizzled old fishermen claimed it had saved his cat from drowning. There were as many stories as there were people in the village, all who had claimed to have seen it, or at least known someone who had. No one could say exactly what it looked like, only that it had a humanoid upper half, a long, slithery fish-tail, and was horrific to look upon. The more exaggerated tales claimed that its face, if one could call it that, was enough to send even the most seasoned of sailors swimming for land.

Yes, Martin had heard the stories, but he was, as far as he could tell, the only one in the village who didn’t believe this odd creature of ambiguous morals actually existed. He was a practical man, and although he enjoyed the idea of impossible things like ghosts and fairies and mer-creatures, he knew, deep down, that none of it was real, especially not so close to the utterly ordinary, unexciting place he called home. He’d lived in the village all his life, and had never, not once, caught so much as a splash of the thing’s tail.

Until now.

He had been out on the bay on his sailboat all afternoon, trying to muster up the inspiration for a poem or two. The sun had begun to set, and, with no more ideas in his head than when he’d left, Martin had started to head back to shore.

That was when he had spotted it: barely visible in the dappled light of the sunset on the water, a dark shape was moving just under the surface. It wasn’t the shape of an ordinary fish, or even a dolphin, and Martin had leaned over the side of the boat to try to get a better look.

He was almost smacked in the face by another figure rising up out of the water, splashing water all over Martin and sending him falling backwards into the boat, flailing in surprise. The figure had grabbed the side of the boat and pulled itself up, leaning over Martin as he stared up at it, dumbfounded, and rethinking everything he knew about stories of dubious legitimacy.

In the warm light of the sunset, the creature was clearly visible. Its skin was dark grey, not quite black, paler around the gills which frilled out around its neck and sides. Its torso was, indeed, humanoid, with two appendages that certainly looked like arms, ending with webbed, clawed hands. Martin couldn’t see its tail from where he was lying, but he imagined it must have been eel-like, for the creature’s face reminded him of an eel. Two huge eyes were set in its face, clearly meant for seeing in the dark of the sea floor, and a wide mouth with innumerable, close-set, needle-point teeth gaped down at him. Apparently, this was what had sent sailors fleeing in terror. Martin was honestly a little disappointed. He was well-versed in marine wildlife (or at least, he’d thought he was), and he thought it looked more cute than scary.

The creature stared down at him, as though waiting for him to do something. It certainly seemed intelligent enough; maybe he could try talking to it. Martin cleared his throat. “Um. Hello.” He managed a little wave.

The creature’s eyes darted to his hand as it moved, then back to his face. It cocked its head, then did something utterly amazing, and answered him. “Why are you not running away,” it said. Its voice was . . . properly British, actually. It spoke with a solid southern accent, the sound a bit muffled and strangely deep, but apparently this creature didn’t need to use lips or teeth to enunciate.

Martin could think of nothing else to do but answer its question. “I . . . can’t really run anywhere,” he said, gesturing at his tiny, stationary sailboat. Once again, the creature’s eyes tracked the movements of his hands meticulously. “You, uh, sort of caught me by surprise.”

“Oh,” said the creature, its voice almost sounding sheepish. It drummed its webbed hands on the edge of the boat, in a surprisingly human-like manner. “Right. Yes. That . . . makes sense.” Its throat moved as it talked, and Martin supposed that must be where its clipped, precise voice was coming from.

“Why would I want to run?” Martin asked.

“Because you’re scared of me,” the creature said, rather unconvincingly.

“Am I?”

“You . . . you should be,” it said, drawing itself up slightly, which made the sailboat rock precariously, so it caught itself and stopped. “Um. I could hurt you. Kill you, even.”

Martin supposed that, yes, this creature was capable of killing him. Though it certainly didn’t seem like it wanted to, and none of the stories he’d heard about it had involved murder. It had even saved a cat once, apparently. Besides, he thought, there were plenty of humans capable of killing Martin just as easily, if they really wanted to. “Are you? Going to kill me?”

“Uh.” The creature lowered itself slightly, so its head was barely visible above the edge of the boat. Martin shifted upwards into a sitting position to see it better, and spotted a dark, rapidly undulating shape in the water, which must have been the creature’s tail. “Well. Er. Not now.”

“Should I leave and come back later?” Martin said, mostly for his own amusement. He didn’t expect the creature to understand the joke.

But it surprised him once again by laughing. Or at least, it sounded like a laugh, and the creature immediately put its hand over its throat, as though to stifle the sound.

Martin couldn’t help but smile at it. “Is that how you talk?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “With your--?” He gestured at his own throat.

The creature stared at him, even more wide-eyed than it usually was. “Um. Yes. I believe humans also have a voicebox, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Martin said, “but ours doesn’t articulate sound the way yours does.” He grinned. “That’s so cool.”

“Oh,” said the creature, and it lowered itself even further into the water. “I, um. Thank you?”

Martin leaned forward to rest his elbows on the edge of the boat, so the two of them were now face-to-face. This close, he could see intricate little patterns in the creature’s skin, dotted across its cheek and around its neck. Not quite freckles, but something like them. Then the creature shifted, and the dimming light of the sunset caught them, turning them iridescent. The light caught its huge eyes as well, revealing that they weren’t just black pupils surrounded by a thin circle of white, but that there was an iris, colored such a dark brown it was almost black. “Wow,” Martin said, unthinkingly. “You’re beautiful.”

The creature’s claws scraped the edge of the boat as it clenched its webbed hands around it. Martin saw its tail thrash just under the water. “I--um--I have to go,” it said, and launched itself off of the boat and back into the water with a splash.

Martin barely had the chance to feel disappointed before its head popped up again, bobbing just above the waves a few meters from the boat. “Um,” it said, “I wanted to ask, before I go--just in case I want to find you again to kill you later--what’s your name?”

“Martin,” said Martin, smiling.

“Martin,” the creature repeated, and coming out of that voicebox it sounded lovely. It paused a moment, just staring at him with those huge, pretty eyes, and then said, “Jon,” before slipping back underneath the waves.

Martin had heard plenty of stories about the strange, terrifying creature that lived in the bay that bordered his village, and he was fully willing to believe them, now. However there were none, in his opinion, that measured up to the real thing.

[bean-na-farraige-agus-foraoise]

Druids ain’t shit and here’s why.

Straight from the Pond- here’s a lesson from your friendly neighborhood historian.

It’s a long post so the history lesson is under the cut. 

Druidic “history” (or pseudohistory rather) actually begins with early renaissance politics. 

Basically Italy is dominating politics and religion by being able to call back to an ancient history that led directly into the formation of the centralized Catholic church. Surprising nobody who's familiar with European history- the German states want in on that action but they don't really have that direct line linking them to antiquity beyond their conquering by Rome- so, like any good 15th century academics, they create that link by just making shit up. 

So they look back at ancient roman writings, and see mention of druids, and also realize that they actually don't know fuck all about them, there's no records of them beyond a few classical authors- and for the record, classical authors are NOTORIOUSLY unreliable, there are entire graduate level seminars dedicated to teaching people how to read through ancient Roman propaganda, almost every druid I have ever met has taken classical authors at face value, anyway I digress, they just start making up a history of the druids, German lands used to be populated by Celts, and they create these mystical druids who serve as the direct precursor to The Church in these areas, like they forge documents and everything so when Italy goes "oh yeah since when?" they have something to hold up as a "gotcha" - they fashion statues and hide them in crypts as further evidence. It’s wild. 

So, France sees that the German states are becoming more politically popular within the HRE (Holy Roman Empire) because of these druid stories, and so they go "Hey Celts used to live in France too... we should have druids"- and they create druid stories. Scotland at the time is very close with France politically and they go "Hey us too, we're still Celts,” and then it spreads to Wales, and then England. Ireland is mostly staying out of druid nonsense- like in this period of the OG pseudohistories Ireland is like "this is disgusting we don't want druids" so like all the writings in Ireland in this period on druids are like "yeah the Church HATES druids"

Things quiet down for a little bit, because the stories are established, the cards have been played, whatever, but then Neo-Classicism and the Enlightenment- and now suddenly it's cool to have ancient history again - but like... Britain has "we got conquered by Rome" or "hey a few centuries ago people were saying we had druids?”; so naturally the more nationalistic go with druids....which is how we get, Iolo Morganweg.  Iolo's real name is Edward Williams but he insisted on going by his "bardic name"- bc druids.  Williams was a Welsh antiquarian- who is in some scholastic circles considered the father of “modern” druidry.  Williams literally named his son Taliesin after the bardic poet behind the Poems of Taliesin which is frequently in association with the Mabinogi in Brythonic texts. To pull from the wiki on this asshole: 

[he made] claims that ancient Druidic tradition had survived the Roman conquest, the conversion of the populace to Christianity, the persecution of bards under King Edward I, and other adversities. His forgeries develop an elaborate mystical philosophy, which he claimed as a direct continuation of ancient Druidic practice. Williams's reportedly heavy use of laudanum may have been a contributing factor

Yeah.... just... yeah. So not only did he forge like hella documents, which today in the 21st century, over 100 years after he was revealed as a fraud, are still more popular than the originals- but he also is the reason that ogham is like that. Williams created a ‘bardic alphabet’ based on combining Scandinavian runes and extant ogham - we are still wading through his bullshit trying to fix ogham. 

And this brings us to the Celtic Twilight...... 

To quote @liminalblessings​, “And a bunch of noodle fuckers decide "hey, we didn't bastardize the Irish enough for the last however long.... We should do more of that."” But for those of you not familiar with the term, it's a nationalistic pan-Celtic movement that wanted to like, make the Celts in vogue again? but like their idea of the Celts as "noble savage” - because the modern era was scary. At this point, Pan-Celtic Nationalism is starting to rise as pushback against British colonialism in Celtic nations. Unfortunately it's heavily reliant on the Druid myth as like.... A foundational shared cultural history between the surviving Celtic nations. The point largely is, though, "look at us. We should all be sticking together because we're the same / cousins / brothers". Which leads to a L O T of Celtic culture from various countries kind of getting.... molded into one singular idea- which is USUALLY what we think of today when we think of Celts. Basically everything gets branded as Irish because the Irish were “pure” and a “separate racial identity” as opposed to the Scots and Welsh. It took that idea of a pan-Celtic singularity, and then went ham with it mostly on Irish pre-Christian stuff, and as it occurred not too long after Williams’ fuckery, it really cemented those forgeries and psuedohistories in the cultural memory. And Williams wasn’t exposed as a fraud until after the Celtic Twilight had died down.

Now... Yeats, we all know Yeats- some people recommend his writings for learning about the fairies. DO NOT LISTEN TO THOSE PEOPLE. Yeats makes up an entire tree calendar, and also files all Scottish fairy lore under the “Irish” tab because he’s part of the Celtic Twilight and didn’t you know that everything Celtic is actually Irish? Fuck this guy. #yeetyeats

Enter... Robert Graves- destroyer of histories and all around fuckwit. Graves maked up an ENTIRE religious notion around a mother goddess and shit. And like, the irony of that is the people he supposedly went to originally were like lol dude you're a fucking idiot none of this is real. But he published it anyways and of course it got taken seriously. And then there's a lot of reverse etymology at this point which is just.... really bad linguistics. And because of Graves’ white goddess + said bad linguistics by others, you get Danu.(Danu is a whole thing, please shoot me an ask if you want a post about all of that nonsense). 

So.... Gerald Gardener.... to quote @liminalblessings​ again- “didn’t have a direct role in druidism, except he kind of did.”  See, Gardner had a good friend who was hella interested in the Celtic twilight. Said friend was hella inspiried by Gardner's "recreation" of old British trad witch traditions... But he didn't jive with the old British trad witch traditions. HE jived with Irish Druidry. So while Gardner's doing HIS thing, his friend's doing the modern Druid thing- heavily drawing from Gardner's own work but "making it more historically Druid" Except, as you may have picked up- there is no such thing as “historically druid” that can be reconstructed. Basically he can only pull from Williams, but because he had issues with with the old 15th century on stuff, up to the Twilight era (despite those being his sources) so he tries to distance himself from the earlier movements and leans hella heavy into Gardner's work as a result. Which is, if you've ever wondered, why Wicca and Druidry have such incredibly similar ritual structures and beliefs.

SO, this guy starts the Druid Order, decides that he’s gonna like pull his teachings from Williams- but he's also gonna say that Williams has nothing to do with his druidry because y'know, Williams has relatively recently been revealed as a fraud. This guy goes through the grueling process of ripping off his best bud gardner founding Druidry, right. So The Druid Order has this rebranding in 1951, that lauds the “history of the druids” as written by Williams but simultaneously rejects Williams saying “yeah we have nothing whatsoever to do with that guy.” Mix into this narrative, Gardener’s “burning times” bullshit, and now not only do we have mythical pseudohistorical druids, but a rewrite of Williams’ “the druids survived conversion” which then turned into - “The druids were heavily persecuted by the church and survived a horrible burning times but despite this there’s a tradition of continuous druidic belief.” Here begins the bullshit known as “vestiges of pagan thought”- which took actual historians not even a decade to disprove, and yet still circulates in pagan circles, because nobody picks up a fucking book.  Theoretical Folkloric archaeology became very popular at this time, which postulates (incorrectly) that all folk traditions and folklore absolutely stems from Pagan times and is 100% the Christianization of pagan practices and thoughts- which is not at all true. (Not-so-friendly reminder that Eostre? DOESN’T FUCKING EXIST. STOP FALLING FOR A JOKE MADE BY A MONK)

Td;lr so far- the druids went from 

the Catholic clergy before the Catholics existed 

to 

a religious group that survived conversion

to

druids survived an intense and violent persecution 

And now? In this our 21st century? 

Well.... druidic organizations today tend to still push these ahistorical narratives, that buy into the pagan persecution complex.... and several of these organizations also have known racists and terfs on their recommended reading lists. And while some organizations have made attempts to become more historically accurate- but the end result is usually.... bad. It tends to result in them using a source from like 1960 that’s been disproven 1000 times since by other historians to go “look a historian agrees with us!” rather than like... keep up with current research trends and academic standards. Druids also tend to be hostile to the syncretism of the Irish church which is just..... so fucking dumb. Don’t worship gaelic deities if you can’t accept that our lore are Christian texts about pagan beliefs. 

So yeah..... druids ain’t shit and I can prove it historically. I am also more than willing to send anyone links to full length books on the history of druids if you want to learn more. 

[smashbrandiscooch]

Smoking Weed With Abby Headcannons 🍁🍂

SFW

With so many people in the WLF, you’re bound to get in contact with people that have connections

Abby heard from Manny that they’d exchange other things for pills, drugs, and alcohol

It was like a secret black market system

She tried to make it a point to stay away from them bc she wasn’t gonna start fucking around with addictive substances

And plus, the kind of people running those sorts of things are shady asf

Abby’s been to parties where zig-zags have been passed around, it’s not like she’s never been around it

That’s where she first met you

You were sitting in a smoke circle, it must have been less than 10 people or so

She saw you blowing o’s then exhaling a cloud of smoke through it

Catching her glancing at you before she turned around and started walking off

“Hey!” Abby whipped her head around, she damn near gave herself whiplash, “You’re Abigail, right?”

“Yeah,” Abby scratched the back of her neck as she looked down at her feet, “It’s Abby..”

“Well then come’re, Abby,” You blew out another puff of smoke, then you patted the empty space next to you

Abby hesitantly sitting down next to you

After you were finished, you offered the zig-zag to her

“Oh, no. I’m good..”

She didn’t know how she’d act whenever she smoked, and she didn’t want to find out with so many people there lol

“It’s fine. I respect that,” You flashed her a grin, then you passed it to the other WLF soldier sitting next to you

Abby’s eyebrows raising

She’s been peer pressured to smoke before, but to no avail

It just surprised her that you didn’t make a huge fuss about it, like other people usually do

Abby expected stoners to be lazy and dirty, but you were very classy about smoking

Making it a point to blow the smoke away from Abby

And watching as you ashed the cigarette before passing it, even if it didn’t necessarily needed to be ashed

Wanting to smoke for the first time with you, and your professional pothead experience lol

Abby not knowing whether to hold it in or to just exhale the smoke in her lungs

But before she can even think she starts coughing like there’s spores around or something

“Damn, Abs, you’re gonna fuck around and inhale it.”

She legit thought that you were joking, until she saw another WLF soldier suck the fucking roach down his throat lol

She really didn’t enjoy her first experience of smoking, she kept inhaling small bits of the doobie

But holy shit, she swore to herself that she never felt better

She only liked smoking maybe twice a day

Once before bed, and after her workouts

Surprising Abby with indica to try and help her sleep

Learning about 4:20 from the retro stoners before the apocalypse

It was like a myth lmao

Teaching Abby weed etiquette lol

Bc this chick doesn’t have any manners when it comes to this sort of thing

Abby’s kinda a bogart, but she doesn’t mean to do it on purpose

She gets so high that she forgets that she’s holding it

“Do I have to remind you that we’re smoking, or do I let the cig eventually burn your fingertips?” You turned your head to the side and smirked

Blowing Abby’s mind with your stoner slang

It’s like a whole fucking other language or something lol

“A roach..? Isn’t that a.. bug?” Or, “A cherry? It isn’t even red though..”

And omg your stoner ingenuity made her question everything

“Dammit..” Abby pinching what little was left of the roach, and trying to get another hit

You grabbed the match you used to light it, then you snapped it down the middle

But you made sure that it was still intact

“It’s called a Jefferson Airplane..” Handing her the broken match, then leaning back on the couch with the biggest shit-eating grin on your face

Abby bursting out into a fit of laughter, “Holy shit. I swear you make some of that up.”

Abby trying to learn tricks, but she can never get it right

Teaching Abby how to roll bc cigarettes were her favorite way of smoking

But this chick can roll like Willie Nelson or Snoop, swear to god lol

And watching her lick the glue on the papers before sealing the zig-zag up 👀👀

Watching her light up her creation by igniting the match on the sole of her boot was something else

Smoking together while her arm is wrapped around you

And watching you while it’s your turn like you is a snacc

Although she never admits it, she always tries to carry pre-rolls and a lighter in her backpack during assignments

[awesomerextyphoon]

Charred Briar Roses - 4

Meet the Family 

Paring: Orc!Bucky x Black!Reader, Orc!Steve x Black!OFC, Orc!Sam x Black!OFC

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 3,500

Summary: The girls get to meet the family.

Warnings: Smut and Mentions of Death

A/N: I’m sorry that this took so long to publish. I had a major writer’s block. Also, the smut is not as good as I wanted so bear with me. Enjoy!

Back to Masterlist

It took five days to reach the group to reach the Orc Settlement. Most of the journey consisted of Fumnanya giggling at Sam’s (not so great, but whatever) jokes while sneaking in a kiss or two, Ghada acting like she’s above the romance then getting caught making out with Steve (she seriously likes it), and you giving Bucky the cold shoulder. You saw the regret in his eyes, but you were too stubborn to give him a chance.

The Orc Settlement was located in the lowlands of the Anchoria Steppes not far from the Tsurchack Forest with its center nestled between a segmented river and a good sized lake to its right. It consisted of a few hundred dwellings that seemed to be a nice cross between a yurt and a longhouse (**think Viking Longhouse**) built with reusable timber, metal, and stone. A couple of the dwellings near the edges were sectioned off into what looked to be farms of six to ten families. There were training areas and market places interspersed throughout the settlement. In the middle, there was a large arena like structure near the center next to what had to be the Elder’s Residence with more town like structures around them. Surrounding the whole settlement was a wall of stone, packed earth, and iron about 12ft high with sensors (probably a force field) sticking on top of it every five feet or so.

It looked beautiful, so different from your former home of extreme decadence.

“Welcome to our home. I know it’s not as-” Steve started.

“It’s beautiful!” Ghada exclaimed while turning her head to smile at him, “We don’t care where you live. We’re just glad you agreed to take us with you.” Steve responded with a low hum and gave her a kiss.

It would’ve been more, but Bucky cleared his throat, “We need to report to the elders as soon as possible.” It was followed by, “And not have you suck your match’s face.” Thankfully neither of the two lovebirds heard him.

Some of the children in front of the gates ran up to the group with bright eyes and smiles wondering if they brought back sweets and toys.

Steve smiled and responded with a ‘You’ll see’ and motioned to the elder’s residence.

Once you passed the front gates, you and your sisters were greeted with reactions ranging from awe to outright contempt. You wondered if they knew of your identities, but Bucky assured you that it was because his people are a bit weary of outsiders. He decided not to tell you about how some of Sophronius’ forces had the almost the exact same hair color and types of clothes, but that was for another time. Right now, he needed to get the elders to let you three stay.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

When they reached the Elder’s Residence – a large longhouse consisting of wood, stone, metal and sturdy fabrics at the top – you stopped yourself from taking another step passed the threshold. What if they didn’t accept you? What if the elders or other members ratted you out to Sophronius? Or will they just have you exiled once they get the riches you and your sisters brought?

Bucky sensed your trepidation and put an enormous hand on your right shoulder, “It’s okay. You’ve got this.” With that your group entered the building.

The elders sat on a raised rectangular dais in the middle of the room with two guards on either end. There was a chandelier and torches all around the main room. Various statues and artifacts of elders passed are placed/hung around the room.

It was intimidating to say the least.

“Welcome back, warriors! Were you successful in your mission?” One of the elders,  Argusa, inquired in Orcish.

“We ran into an old woman who directed us to the lost capital of the Nephrashim.” Steve explained.

“That is nothing but myth, Rogers! If you found nothing than just say so. Honestly, one would think that the halflings would be better at excuses than this.” One of the guards, Figrel, scoffed. He later raised his hands in surrender when Bucky moved in to pummel him.

“Enough, Figrel! Please continue Steve.” Cladista, another elder, gently urged.

“We found the capital to be deserted...except for the princesses. They were at the palace. They agreed to come back with us and we were able to procure valuable medical supplies, building materials, and treasure that we might use for trade.” Steve reported as the elders fixed their gazes onto you and your sisters.

The staring went on for three minutes. No one made a sound as the elders were casting their initial judgement upon you.

With a loud sigh, Argusa spoke in Common Tongue, “We will hear their case. Tell us, why should we let you stay with us?”

Ghada took a cautious step forward, “My sisters and I can offer our services. Fumnanya is a skilled medic and scholar, Y/N is an amazing inventor and metalworker, and I am trained in trade deals and negotiations. Furthermore, all three of us are pretty well versed in combat and culinary arts.” She appealed while searching for any sign of approval from the elders.

“We can attest to their skills if it’s of any consequence.” Sam piped up when it got eerily quit again.

“Interesting. What do you think, Zadia? You’ve been awfully quiet.” Argusa inquired as she turned to the last elder.

“Hmm. They can stay with Bucky’s sisters and stepmother for now. We shall see about their services another time. Enjoy your stay, girls.” Zadia decided while motioning the group to leave.

The short excursion to Bucky’s family’s place was nice. More people warmed up to you (and by that I mean no one gave the three of you blatant glares of contempt), some even walked up and asked questions about you.

It was nice, but all that didn’t matter if Bucky’s family didn’t like you.

You kept telling yourself that you didn’t care what they thought of you, but you knew that was a lie. It angered you that you cared so much. He was the one that said no! Then why did it hurt so much?

Bucky’s sisters and stepmother lived on a farm near the outskirts of the settlement. It comprised of one large dwelling with four smaller ones surrounding it in a circular fashion. Outside of the dwelling circle were smaller cabins and huts for storing food, livestock, hunting tools and combat weapons, and stables for their dire wolves and eagle horses.

It was nice getting to know Bucky’s family. He had three younger sisters – Rebecca (Becca/Becky), Isolde, and Melisende (Meli) – along with Aspasia, his stepmother, a brother-in-law and three nieces and one nephew. They joked and laughed with you three about embarrassing hijinks the guys performed during their youth. You shared some of the your stories about Nephrashim and your former lives. They quickly accepted the three of you as family.

Furthermore, it was nice not having to worry about princess duties and royal decorum. All of you helped around the farm doing several chores for the first time; you didn’t have any hiccups besides Fumnanya freaking out over one of the eagle horses, but Sam handled it.

The only thing that could be better is the treatment you got from the rest of the settlement. Most of the inhabitants either scowled or just pretended that you three didn’t exist. Becca explained that it was because almost none of them had seen clothes and features (hair/eyes) like yours before, but you knew better. It was because they knew you were from Nephrashim. Bucky’s family never breathed a word about it outside the farm’s borders and you doubted the elders would say anything.

Well, you hoped that it would get better. And it did.

An outbreak of Sxtatzia (a cross between Smallpox and Influenza but for orcs) swept through the settlement. Most of the inhabitants who were infected got better except for Zadia.

Just about everyone had lost hope when Sam and Bucky marched in with Fumnanya and Meli in tow (Fumnanya had been teaching Meli some basic medical procedures and best practices). Fumnanya was able to work her magic after Sam threat-, ahem, insisted the guards let her look at the elder. It took the team four hours to create a viable and effective cure.

The day after Zadia was shown to be steadily getting better, the elders put the former princesses to work. Ghada assisted the traders in negotiations, trade deals and some body language/social cues that surprisingly holds up. Fumnanya taught the medics the different practices, poultices, and minor surgical procedures she knew. You taught the metal artisans what you knew about engineering and metalworking techniques.

The warriors couldn’t be happier with this new development. Well, maybe they missed having the three of you near them most of the time, especially Bucky.

––––––––––––––––––––

It had been three weeks and you still hadn’t talked to him besides an occasional sentence and he was getting pissed. Everyone else tip-toed around the subject of you two and it didn’t help that Steve and Sam were getting closer with their matches. Bucky had to go on hunting trips on his own if only to have a respite from the non-stop lovey-dovey chatter about their matches.

He finally got his chance when he was walking (lurking) around the blacksmiths/artisan section where you had your workshop set up. You were giving a welding demonstration when a little shit, Figrel’s younger brother, attempted to grab your ass.

Bucky strode right into the workshop, punched the little shit, threw you over his shoulder, and went on his merry way back to his dwelling on his family’s farm.

“What the fuck was that?!” you shouted as he plopped you onto a nest of cushions.

“I can’t let you go back there. All those eyes leering at you.”

“What do you care? You were the one who said no at the baths!” You countered as you stood up to take your leave.

You didn’t even make it past him because he growled in frustration and spun you around to face him.

He inwardly smirked at your whimpering, loving the way your lower lip quivered.  

“Because you’re MINE!” Bucky bellowed.

You gazed up at him with coy smile, “Prove it,” and he smashed his lips against yours and pushed you onto his bed.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Bucky may have had plenty of sexual partners, but he never kissed anyone...until you. Now he could see what all the fuss was about.

He pried open your mouth with his tongue and groaned when you accepted him while wrapping your arms around his thick neck. He loved the way your tongue danced with his and ended with your graceful but fierce submission.

Once he finally broke for air, Bucky moved to your jaw and neck gently nipping your skin with his tusks. He peppered you with kisses causing small moans to escape your desperate lips.

“Bucky please!” You pleaded as he sent waves of heat to your core.

Bucky stopped his touches, looked you right in the eye, and responded with, “Not yet,” and continued undoing you.

He ripped off your vest and worker blouse and hummed at the sight of your chest. Seeing you now, panting with a ‘giddy fucked’ face, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, made almost all the blood in his face go straight to his cock.

He dove into your chest, licking and gently sucking your breasts while you grabbed his soft dark brown (almost black) hair moaning his name. He worked your breasts so well that you came for the first time in your life within minutes.

“Bet you’ve never had one of your human boys do this to you, woman?” Bucky remarked with a smirk as he ripped off the rest of your clothing like it was tissue paper.

You could only gasp out a ‘No’ before Bucky sprinkled your midsection and hips with sloppy, desperate kisses (he used a lot of tongue) which again caused you moan. You wondered how much more you could take.

The Fae’s training never prepared you for this!

When he finally got to your thighs, Bucky hummed as he took in the sweet smell of your arousal. He faintly kissed and nipped at your inner thighs causing you to cry out in euphoria and impatience. He ignored your cries and gave your slit one long, slow lick.

You hissed at the sensation both from how amazing it felt and frustration from both Bucky and yourself for denying it from happening sooner.

Bucky’s enormous tongue attacked you pussy alternating between your clit and your folds. He soon added a thick finger to the mix causing to edge again and again until you beseeched him to let you come.

“You’re MINE princess! SAY IT!!”

You whimpered at his demand and Bucky stopped moving altogether.

“SAY IT!!”

You mewled, “I’m yours! I’m your bitch!”, you answered remembering what Becca said male Orcs loved to hear their women say.

Bucky chuckled and got up to remove his clothes and decided to make a show of it.

You were sober enough to gaze lustfully at his sleek, muscular, ruggedly handsome frame. You heard the women in the settlement gossip about how they thought the likes of Bucky is wasted on a ‘stupid trollop’ like you.

Checkmate bitches!

He removed his loincloth, his last bit of clothing, to reveal a behemoth of a cock.

You almost gulped at the size. You and your sisters have heard about cocks from gossiping maids and servants before the curse. Those ones sounded like they were a good size, but Bucky’s was on a much higher level.

Bucky, the lovable but cocky bastard, smirked, “Never seen one this big, huh?”

You bit your lip and looked down in shame, “I haven’t seen one at all.”

“And it’ll be the last one you’ll see, sweetheart.”

You let out an uncharacteristic giggle as Bucky parted your legs and lined his cock at your entrance.

He went in slowly as to not hurt you, but you still hissed at the size of him. You’ve never felt so full in your life.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Bucky grunted, “So tight!”

He filled you to the hilt and stayed there for a few minutes while he helped you get your breathing under control.

He started with slow strokes, savoring the way your pussy squeezed him, like you were made for him. He tried to keep it slow out of respect since it was for first time, but you felt so good so he picked up his pace.

The earlier feeling of discomfort at his size soon faded into euphoria. You never dreamt of pleasure like this. Now you understood what your and Bucky’s sisters were going on about. You mewled when Bucky hit your G-Post just right.

It wasn’t long before your first orgasm hit you like a tsunami and you convulsed around him a wave after wave of carnality washed over you. Soon Bucky came with a roar, shooting long thick ropes of his cum into you to the point of creating a bulge in your midsection and you passed out.

When you awoke, you felt a strong arm wrapped around you and a hand gently stroking your hair and back.

“I know you’re awake, sweetheart.”

You open your eyes and looked up to see love (actual love, not lust) and understanding etched in Bucky’’s features. You never knew you needed it, for someone to actually see you for yourself, not what you could give them.

He exhaled, “I’m sorry for the baths. It’s just that I didn’t want to have sex and then you’d leave me. I know it selfish, but-”

You stopped him with a soft kiss on the lips, “Why would I leave you? You actually see me for myself and not for my former station or as an annoyance. Okay, minus your sisters, stepmother, nieces and nephew because they are awesome.”

Bucky chuckled as his some of his long hair fell in front of his face, “I’ll be sure to tell them that, but not Becca. She has a big ego as it is.”

You giggled in response,”That’s fair,” you bit your lip and shot Bucky a coy look, “Do you want to go again?”

You didn’t need to ask him twice.

You two were at it for the rest of the day. The sounds of your lovemaking evident to the rest of the farm’s inhabitants.

“Finally!” Becca exclaimed as she and Ghada were sewing new clothes for the orclings.

Isolde chose that moment to walk into the common room, “Yes! I get my room back!”

The princesses and their matches were in bliss. Everything was right with the world...until it wasn’t.

––––––––––––––––––

It was two months after you and Bucky officially got together. The whole settlement had gotten into an easy rhythm of things when one of scout’s warning horns went off.

“It’s the Horde!”

Everyone who was not fighting was running to the shelters. Bucky had asked you to stay with Becca’s children and mother. You wanted to get angry, but you knew it was because he  wanted someone he trusted and loved to have his stepmother’s back. So you grabbed Waning Swan and ran to the shelters.

The battle lasted until morning and the settlement won, but at a price. Casualties came in at  80 dead and 200 wounded. The scariest thing wasn’t the gore or the corpses, it was the words, “He Knows”, scorched into the ground in front of the arena, or the Assembly Place.

Later that day, everyone who was able crowded into Assembly. Everyone’s eyes were boring into you. Fumnanya kept her head to Sam’s chest, but it wasn’t working.

“I knew those harlots were trouble the moment they strode into our settlement!” A woman who lost her mate to the battle shouted. A chorus of shouts of agreement followed.

Ghada was getting nervous as evident by her squeezing both yours and Steve’s hand. Luckily someone stood up for the group.

“I understand that you’ve suffered, Brida. I lost a son to the Horde, but we can’t blame it all on them. Sophronius has been after us for years. Be reasonable.” Agi stated while the guys gave him a nod of appreciation.

“Fuck that! You’re only saying that because you were they’re mates instructor and your nephew married one those mongrel bitches!” Baldo, another older warrior, exclaimed.

Big mistake.

It would take ten years to ascertain what really happened in the five minutes that followed. Baldo was thrown out of the Assembly, Brida was nursing a broken jaw, Becca had a wound on her left forearm from a sword, and Bucky had to be kept from attacking an idiot by Sam, Steve, Agi, and five other orcs. Everyone else was in an uproar and honestly, a full on fight was going to break out.

“SILENCE!” Argusa roared.

“We need to rebuild. Callisa, can we get a status report by the end of the day?”

Callisa was about to answer when someone demanded that they should do something about the Horde.

Steve gave everyone in your group a knowing and somewhat crestfallen look, “We’ll go to the Resistance and see if they can help.”

It took some minutes before Argusa gave the group an answer. The settlement tried to stay away from Sophronius and the war, but one could say their chickens have come home to roost.

“Alright then, you three take the girls and go first thing tomorrow.” Argusa decided.

“It’s not fair! You just got ‘ere, Auntie! Ingunn cried as she hugged Ghada. All of the orclings were crying and it was breaking your and your sister’s hearts. They’ve made such an impact in your lives that it hurt to leave them now.

“I’m sorry, love, but we have to leave. We’ll be back before you know it.” Ghada reassured her, but you had a feeling it would be a while before your group would return.

With one final hug and a pat, you said your goodbyes to the orclings. Meli, Isolde, Aspasia, Becca, and her mate, Gernot were waiting for you all at the gate.

“I know you’re sad about leaving us, but we will meet again my dears.” Aspasia uttered as she gave each of you a hug.

“Take care and keep these knuckleheads in line.” Becca joked while she gave Bucky a playful punch to the shoulder.

So with a heavy heart, you left the place that felt more like home in many ways than the place you were born.

The group headed southwest to the coordinates a trader said that he saw some Resistance Members. You were crossing a valley when an unscented flash landmine went off and everything went blinding white then black.

Next thing you knew, your group was in chains surrounded by a group protected by shadow...except for five individuals wearing necklaces and a medallion that belonged to…

“Mother!”

Taglist:

@lookiamtrying​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @retroxvailles​ @imdarkinme​ @dahkness​ @pseudonymphet​ @giorno-plays-piano​ @mcudarklibrary​ @anyatheladyclown​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @macheregrace​ @hurricanerin​ @navegandoaciegas​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @sapphirescrolls​

[brewbellwizardry]

Wiztober Day 1 - Schools

  “Welcome to Ravenwood!”

  Emory swept a dramatic arm around the spacious room, particles of magic fluttering out of the way as they stepped through the spiral door. They glanced back to make sure their entourage was still in one piece.

  Sure enough they were, Taane letting his jaw hang on its hinges as he lifted his eyes up, and up, and up, trying to drink in everything at once. His eyelids shuttered noisily a few times at the bright light filtering in through the highest parts of the canopies and he held Cecil’s slim hand a little closer. They were in a wide circular space filled with trees- and made of trees, for that matter. He could hear the distinctive buzz of magic in the air around them. 

  He’d never seen anything quite like it in Celestia, not even in the floating lands. 

  “I understand why it’s called Ravenwood now. There are so many trees!” He twisted around to look at them all, his hollow voice ringing unusually in the wide room.

  “Oh, err, I guess!” Emory chuckled, shifting from foot to foot. “This is the spiral chamber, the school is outside that door there.” They pointed across the room, Taane and Cecil following their arm to a red door that stood out against the natural browns and greens. “Do you guys want to check out the schools right away?”

  “Yes!” They answered together. Both their smooth faces, metal and wooden, were unchanging, but their voices had noticeably brightened.

  “Okay, we’ll start with Professor Balestrom, cause uh, he’s least likely to yell at us for interrupting.” They grinned nervously, thinking about the scolding they were sure to get from Cyrus.

  Well, they’d cross that bridge when they got to it. 

  -

They had led the two constructs to the storm school, Cecil staring openly at all the brightly robed wizards they passed on their way over. Cecil had tugged at the collar of their soft grey cloak self consciously, wondering how they could enjoy wearing robes in such deadly shades of yellow and red. They had to jog to catch up with Emory and Taane who were waiting for them in front of the classroom. 

  Once they were all there Emory swung the doors open wide, walked in and-

  “Merlin’s fucking beard!” 

  Emory swore loudly and grabbed the fronts of Taane and Cecil’s robes to pull them down to the floor, Cecil making a loud garbled buzzing in surprise. A fizzing noise went over their heads and Emory flinched at the unmistakable crackle of lightning hitting wood behind them. 

  Looking up to make sure the coast was clear, Emory found a group of wide eyed Diviners staring back at them, Balestrom stood green and froggy on his desk with his cane still pointed where the trio’s heads had just been.

  “Professor, I didn’t realise you were doing p-practicals today.” They managed to breathe shakily.

  He finally lowered his cane with a flourish, beaming down at the three of them awkwardly sat on the classroom floor. “Every day is a practical day! You know the rule, young wizard, always knock on a diviner’s door before entering!”

  “No I- I didn’t know that, actually.”

  “Hmm? Oh, that is a bit of a problem, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe you should make a sign, professor?”

  “A marvelous idea young Erin!” Balestrom leapt off the desk and padded his way down the runner rug until he was face to face with Cecil, who pulled their knees up to their chest in discomfort. “Fascinating, simply fascinating! And why might these constructs be here, young Emory? Are they in need of repairs?”

  “Oh, no! Not at all. That’s Cecil, and this is Taane. They’re from Celestia, we’re doing the rounds.”

  “Hi Taane! Hi Cecil!” A bouncy voice Emory recognised as Keelan’s called out from behind the crowd. “You didn’t get shocked, did ya?”

  “No!” Taane chuffed, tapping his fingers against the floor happily. “Not this time!”

  With a terse chuckle Emory climbed to their feet and extended a hand to their friends on the floor. They didn’t particularly want there to be a next time. 

  -

  When they arrived at the ice school Emory knocked once, twice, thrice before entering. “Professor Greyrose? Any spells we should be minding?”

  “No no, come in, dear!”

  They gave a relieved look to their companions, and though neither could mirror the expression Taane placed a hand on their shoulder while Cecil nodded sagely. They understood.

  Already acquainted with the unholy chill of the ice classroom Emory pulled their cloak tighter around themselves as they pulled open the door. The air from inside spilled out as a dense fog, and already the atmosphere of the class was in stark contrast to the one they’d visited prior. All the students were sitting in neat rows, Greyrose at the blackboard, and the sound of pencils scratching at paper seemed endless. It didn’t halt or change as they walked into the classroom, most students too focused on copying an amount of writing that would bring Emory to tears if they saw it in their own classes.

  They saw one student turn blatantly in their chair only to be elbowed by the one sitting next to them, and with a grumble they’d returned to their work.

  “Professor, these two are visiting the schools to learn about them, do you think you could tell them about thaumaturgy?”

  Greyrose hovered in place, tipping her hat to her visitors with a warm smile. “Oh, but of course! Now, where to begin? You see when the spiral was first sung into existence-”

  Oh dear, Emory thought, they were going to be here a while, weren’t they?

  -

  “Next up is the fire school with Professor Falmea, you’re gonna want to mind your feet, the floor can get kinda uh, temperamental.” Emory pulled one of the doors open and got hit by a wave of hot air immediately, blinking fast as their eyes started to water. 

  Taane took one look at the red hot floors and the fire based decorations and opened and closed his mouth with an audible ‘clack’. 

  No. He wasn’t walking into that death trap. It just wasn’t happening.

  Without a word he turned and walked away, sitting down on the curb opposite the building and neatly tucking his coat over his folded up legs. 

  Emory watched him with curiosity. “Err, Taane? Is something wrong?” 

  Cecil tugged on their shirt sleeve and they turned to them, very aware of the fact they were loitering in the doorway and that the pyromancers in the room had started to turn and stare. “Being made of wood means he’s not exactly fireproof. Less than you or I, anyway.” They murmured.

  Emory’s mouth formed an ‘o’, slightly misshapen by their fangs, and they nodded. “Right, no, yeah, I don’t want anyone catching on fire. Are you interested, Cecil?” 

  They eyed the bright robes, the mustard yellows and fire reds they’d seen before outside. 

  “No, not particularly.”

  “Alright. Sorry, professor!”

  “Just close the door already!”

  -

  Emory tried not to seem too eager, or embarrassed, about the crater of the sunken death school. On the one hand it was their own school and they took a great deal of pride in it, unconventional though it may be, but on the other they knew not everyone viewed it with the same endearment. 

  But despite their efforts they couldn’t help their long ears pricking up as they spotted the small circle of black and red surrounding a standing figure. “Hey, Malorn!”

  Malorn turned his head left and right before spotting them. “Oh! Emory! You bringing more students for me to ruin?” 

  Laughing nervously Emory looked back at Cecil and Taane. “Ahaha, he’s joking, I swear he’s joking.” 

  Taane clicked his fingers together with a stilted laugh, pressing past Emory straight towards the circle of students where he took a seat on the edges. This young teacher had good humour and this was the first class he had seen outdoors- how dreadful it would be to stay cooped inside all day, he wasn’t sure he could bear it.

  Cecil wandered over more hesitantly, a bit put off by the wicked grin of the student teacher, and sat down next to Taane. 

  “Welcome to our flock of black sheep, haha! Get it?”

  “Gods, Malorn.” Emory groaned.

  -

  The myth classroom was one they had been particularly dreading, and Cecil seemed to have picked up on that if the way they were standing a good foot from the door was anything to go by. 

  And given body language was just about all Emory had to go off when they weren’t speaking, they figured it must be so.

  “So uhh, the teacher for the myth school is Professor Cyrus Drake, and he can be… difficult.” They paused, took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. “Professor?”

  “Class is in session. Go. Away.”

  “Professor, there’s some new students here, we’re having a look at the different schools and-”

  “I am busy with my present students, I don’t need any more. Go. Away.”

  “Hmm.” Emory pulled a face. “So uh, this is not ideal, but I can probably tell you a bit about conjuring? Unless you guys really want to see the classroom, then we can! But I uh,” They cast a dubious look at the door, “I don’t think it’ll go over well.”

  Taane shrugged and looked to Cecil, who shrugged and looked to Emory. “You’re the tour guide.”

  “Alrighty, so conjuring-”

  -

  Taane had been taken by the life school the minute they’d approached it, head on swivel looking at all the flora and fauna that always flocked wherever theurgists gathered. He held a hand up to the sky and Emory had watched in awe as a sparrow landed on one of his outstretched fingers, delicate toes curled around the smooth wood like it was just another branch. 

  “I like this one.” He spoke, enamoured with the way the small bird hopped around the digits of his hand. Cecil leaned forward to look, having to stand right on the tips of their toes to see properly. 

  “You have always liked small creatures and plants, Taane.”

  While they lingered in the yard outside the life school students started spilling out the doors, books and wands in hand. A lady in green, Professor Wu, was the last out of the classroom and the trio watched with interest as the group of students arranged themselves around the trees outside. One student with a deer’s lower body stayed standing, but the rest sat on the ground.

  “Oh, I really like this one.” Taane made a beeline for the other students, settling himself in like he already belonged there. A few students gave him odd looks, but he paid them no mind. Cecil hung back with Emory, making a small laugh-like sound at their friend’s enthusiasm. This definitely suited him.

  -

  “And lucky last, this is where the balance students stay. The actual school is in another world, but we still have a teacher here too for the beginner students. I always found balance magic really difficult, honestly. The sand is too hard to keep together.” Cecil had latched on to Emory’s hand the minute they’d split off from Taane, who had been eager to sit in on the rest of the lesson Professor Wu was teaching, so they noticed right away when Cecil stopped walking in the middle of the balance campgrounds. Emory looked down at them, concerned. “What’s up?”

  “This magic… it’s not the kind I was looking for either.” Their tone was morose, and Emory frowned.

  “No? Not this one either?” 

  They shook their head, pulling their cloak up around their mouth so their voice was muffled. “It's not the right one. The one I was looking for… it’s not any of these. I was hoping to see those shadows again, the ones that moved like mist. They were so pretty.”

  Oh! Emory hit their hand against their palm with a smile “Cecil, I think I know what you’re looking for! That’s Shadow magic!”

  “It is? Where is it taught?” 

  Oh. Emory shifted uncomfortably, knowing they were going to let them down again. “Err, well, it’s not exactly taught here in Ravenwood. Ambrose thinks it’s too dangerous.”

  “But… all schools of magic are dangerous.” Cecil tilted their head questioningly.

  “Well, yeah, that’s true, but... I’m sorry, Cecil. Were there any other schools that you liked?”

  They made a low buzzing hum, considering for a few moments. “I liked some of them, but none of them felt right. If there’s no shadow magic here, I think…” 

  “...I think I’m going to find my own school.”

[lovecanbesostrange]

LMAO Henry's diary! Perfect. Okay, that's my pitch. Years later, someone finds Henry's diary, and since he's a talented kid with a gift for writing, it reads like an epic. That's the framing for the show: later generations reading Henry's diary. But what we didn't expect is that it's filled with wild, near-death experiences and adventures. 1

All the times the Charming-Mills left Henry with Ruby to protect him from danger... well, it worked, but not how they think. When the main gang returns from their adventures, they find Henry safe and sound, and they assume nothing happened, he played videogames with Ruby and that's it. But... um, no.

They read Henry's diary and discover what really happened, what Henry and Ruby lied about at the time: crazy shit. Monster assassins, runaway ogres, demons, rebel fairies, supernatural sinkholes, life altering prophecies... Henry lived through it all, with Ruby by his side, wearing that Babysitter cape with pride. His friend werewolf proves herself to have been the right choice of protection.

(At this point, I can’t be bothered to remember the actual timeline lol of the show, so let’s have fun.)

Henry is off to college and if you search for Regina, she’s probably in his room. Empty nest syndrome hitting her hard. But Emma understands and doesn’t even mock her for it. That often. Then they sit on his bed together and talk about what they’ve been through and no, Regina called him yesterday, she shouldn’t pick up the phone again. Ah yes, remember this baseball that will now dramatically fall down and roll to a box under the bed. A box filled with old diaries.

They wouldn’t snoop around, but it’s clear these are pretty old, look at that handwriting, so cute. Just a quick peek, what year was this? Oh, wow, when he already knew stuff was up and the curse still active. Didn’t want to stay with Regina, couldn’t help Emma, ended up being babysat by Ruby. Henry writes about how Ruby didn’t trust him, because he’s Regina’s son, but quickly changed her mind. And he makes a note about how her loyalty and inherit goodness just shines so bright.

He figured out who she was and it was weird, because Ruby seemed so unsure and inexperienced, but he staying with her wasn’t that bad. And not just because of the free pie. (Of course she spoiled him and Regina and Emma think that would be the worst problem here, all that extra sugar, no wonder he stayed up all hours. HA!)

They flip through the pages, wanting to put it back, it’s private and all, but Emma’s eyes catch the word “goblin”. Goblins? They never had a goblin problem. Oh this is from a night he stayed at the b’n’b and he heard strange noises. Ruby was there and she thought this was the typical kid-is-afraid-of-the-dark-and-sees-monsters-everywhere, but went with that nonetheless. So she helped Henry set traps and unknowingly got rid of the creature and helped him glue a vase that was broken, without yelling at him (because it truly was the goblin’s fault). Could’ve been worse. Monsters shouldn’t even exist, because there was supposed to be no magic. It’s why nobody saw. Wow, weird.

And from there things got worse after the curse broke. Henry was pushed into Ruby’s care kinda immediately. With Emma gone and the trust issues and it’s good they already had a bond over harmless puzzle filled evenings. Except now Ruby took the whole thing far more serious, but she didn’t treat him like a kid and explained things to him. Sprinkling in some info from the good old days (it’s why he has extra knowledge that wasn’t from his storybook).

Emma remembers that one dinner where she joked about vampires and Henry chocked, milk running out his nose. She thought that was funny, but well, so here is the story now, because there actually were fucking vampires in Storybrooke!! And nobody noticed!! Because they were busy. But Henry saw these three strange women and got a weird vibe.

The awkward thing is, this is where Henry found out that Ruby is so fucking gay. Because she was somewhat seduced by one of the ladies. One night babysitting Henry Ruby’s mind seemed elsewhere and then she told him about that lady and her weird sisters and over the next week they investigated together. Ruby told Henry not to do stuff alone. So he went and searched their home alone. And Ruby came and grabbed him.

He describes the absence of reflections, that they only came into the diner after sundown and not actually eating (but still making sure to mention a garlic allergy). Ruby resists the one lady, but Leroy is so smitten with another and in the end Ruby and Henry save him and there’s holy water in a super soaker being used, Ruby flashing golden eyes on a not full moon night, because she fights so fiercly...

They decide to not tell anybody. Because a) they were all busy with something huge and b) maybe they should have said something earlier, to get help and now they would look bad, right? Ruby was there to protect Henry. Which she did. He was fine. No need to worry someone. Was a one time thing. Henry makes a note that he starts a book of monsters now, where he can have checklists, to see what myth are real or not.

Regina searches through the box and finds it. The first entry are vampires, with a quick sketch and impressive notes. (”Ruby says she invited her in, so can’t say for sure if that is accurate. Mentioned heavy flow didn’t stop her, which was a clue. But I don’t know what Ruby means.” Regina is speechless.)

Second entry is about werewolves. Apparently Henry asked Ruby lots of questions and when she was babysitting him during wolfstime they made a playdate out of that?! Which is also when Henry found a fairy circle in the woods. And they encountered the fae. Which turned into a two week portal adventure that ended, where it started, so nobody missed them, but it happened!!

The fae tried to trick them, but there was an evil wizard hunting them and Henry and Ruby said they’d help, if they would be able to go home afterwards. The wizard made plants and trees attack, but they defeated him by luring him to a swamp.

“My son-” “Our son.” “OUR son almost drowned in a swamp and the person we left him with never told us?!” “Well, she got him out in time. And if you read carefully, she didn’t want him to play the bait.” “Oh, she is responsible. Right.”

Also where even were the Charming-Swan-Mills parental units when Ruby took Henry for a walk and ended up in the labyrinth of a Minotaur?! Where they found a fresh bunch of human sacrifices they helped escape. And put the Minotaur on a pork diet........

That time Henry tracked clay all through the house and he said Ruby had taken him to a pottery class? Which sounded so weird, they should have known. A golem encounter! Which was pretty harmless compared to when a Kelpie tried to lure Henry to his death (don’t lure kids to streams on a full moon if his babysitter is a werewolf).

[voidselfshipp]

Troubled troubles

Ok to rb

Summary:Basically s/I and adler fluff, a bit of angst and a buttload of oc stuff

Gif by travellar on Tumblr

@romancologist @mycinnamonapples uwu

Another Slam of hands on the table announces jerico that adler is yet having problems with something, she sighs Rolling her shoulders back, and her two cats sit ontop of them.

--Oh boy I do love hearing my boyfriend mad--she said playfully leaning on the doorsill of adler's Office.

Russel turns to look at her, he smiles a bit --Hey princess, sorry for makin too much noise,I know you dont like that

Jeri shrugged and Walked over, sitting on her boyfriends lap--Okay let me see whats up

--Ive been trying to fix this radio for Woods, nothings workin

She takes the radio and looks at it--Did you notice some of the cables are broken? Like when your headphones cable is broken and you twist the cord around for it to work?

--...wait what?

--Yeah its broken see?

Adler internally facepalms as his cheeks turn red--How could I not notice that?

Jer kisses his scarred cheek and leaves the radio on the desk standing up--Anyway ill go chance, todays prayer Day at cycle coasts main temple,you sure you dont want to go?

--No babe,im alright you go enjoy your terran stuff

She chuckled and shook her head walking over to her room to change.

The Roaring of the motorcycle engine drowned out any other sound in the garage, jerico put her helmet on,both of her cats tucked in her backpack,peeking through the semi Open compartment.

Her black cat mewls and presses their snout against the back of her head--Im alright vica,I just wish Russ came with me whenever we have celebrations, its something I dont want him to miss...but alas...--Her cat hissed and she snorted a chuckle-- dont be mad at him,our culture can be hard to digest

The cat rolled their eyes and sunk back into her backpack.

The wind hit her visor as she drove to cycle coast, she looked at the cloudy Sky, and sped up.

The drums could already be heard, jer chained her motorcycle to a post and Walked to the beach,there people in traditional terran wear danced with fans,banners and sticks, she sat amongst the crowd listening to the old woman talk.

Her hair was long,braids sprinkled about her hair, white as the moon,the traditional pristess robe, blue and black touched the sand and her long sleeves draped as she talked.

--Jerico...nice to see you could join Us.

Jerico smiled--Id never miss it

--did you bring your handsome boyfriend with you?

Jeri looked away--no,hes not really into our culture

The old womans brow furrow--such a shame...I wanted to meet him--she then perked up at the audience --You see, jerico has come here since she was a little trouble making bean about this tall--she puts her hand against her shoulder--so she heard this tale Many many times

When humans and gods lived along eachother--the elder pristess said-- and demons Ran amok at night,our goddess of death fell in love with one of those creatures.

She had Fallen for the King of the black demon hell, and had a child.

This is the child we'll talk about,in our books hes named xazo kazlaz or bell, it says that then elementus got wind of their relationshipp and they had to split.

About deaths son however.. she raised him to be the one that would guide the people to the afterlife...or hell navigating through the vast ocean of the dead with bells to guide him and Open the Doors to each realm...

Does anybody know why hes represented as an axolotl?--

Jerico raised her hand, and the pristess let her talk--because hes both a god and a demon, hes half and half like the axolotl that is an amphibian creature

The woman nodded-- very good,now lets commune back at the temple shall we?

As the people left, both the priestess and jeri were left alone,both Walked a bit distanced from the crowd.

--Thats one of my favourite stories you know zaivelaz

The woman smiled--I know thats why when I got your letter of you coming I changed it, its more interesting that the story of our patron goddess fighting over a piece of cheese

Jer started to laugh--Yeah that day was one hell of a day

Zaivelaz shook her head--Being a goddess amongst humans is hard?

--Like you have no idea,specially with my boyfriend,two of the people gods in my family had human partners and they...they died,im scared something similar Will happend to him

Her companion put a hand on jericos shoulder--It wont...I promise

--Thanks...zai

The steps along the floating bridge were Many,jeri couldnt help but wonder how it would be if adler was here.

She struggled so much with showing him her culture that it made her feel sad,then again one of the moral rules in Terras was not to force anyone,and she wouldnt break it.

She sat on the floor with the priestesses and closed her eyes interlocking her fingers as she softly whispered.

--Hey ozi...Been a while...--she sighed-- I left you some offerings by your statues feet, I know you dont like this sorta stuff...but ive missed you, a lot, just...just..tell eryz and abbadon that I love em..and that same goes to you..i love you aunt ozi

After the prayers it was time for the festival, jeri Spotted a young Man wearing all black, white eyes,and black hair in a bun.

The Man seemed to notice her as he ran to her,hugging her tightly.

--Abbadon!--She said kissing her cousins cheek--Ive missed you

Abbadon put his hand in his pockets--Ive missed you too...what I could not miss is this festival! All because of our family?, wow!

Jer giggled and offered her hand--Wanna dance?

--You bet!

Their feet moved in synch,the flags spun in circles as they danced.

Abbadon threw his banners and jeri catched him, and he hers.

They were enjoying themselves when the music stopped abruptly.

They Turned to see the people around them that were equally confused.

The musicians pointed at the huge tide approaching them.

Both demigod cousins stepped infront of the tide and stopped it as its about to break, they both looked at eachother and nodded.

Jeri pushed it to one side, and abbadon followed, the water splashed them and them only and nobody got hurt.

--Your mom needs to stop sending tides that could literally drown someone when she wants to send a sign...

Abbadon crouched putting his hands on his knees,batting his hand at his cousin--i tried... no way talking her out of It

The celebration ended with no further altercations, jerico went back home and took a quick warm shower to then collapse on the bed.

--Hes still with that fucking radio isnt he?...--She sighed giving up--why do I even try anymore?

The sun filtered through the blinds jerico groaned and opened her eyes,only to find her boyfriends spot on the bed empty.

She grunts and sits up, her cats sitting on her lap-- I know I know..--she picks them up and walks to the kitchen where she gives both of them their food.

Jeri felt a pair of arms hug her from behind, she sighs nuzzling into adlers chest.

--Good morning sweetheart

--Hey...

--Watcha cooking there?

--Bacon and eggs for you and a healthy terran breakfast for me

--Oh...good

Both ended up eating their breakfast in silence, Russell could tell there was something wrong with his girlfriend, he took her hand and she looked at him,those beautiful eyes he loved looking at were filled to the brim with sadness.

--babe...whats up?--He asked concerned.

--I just...wish you could come with me whenever we have festivals here--she said taking a bite from her waffle that had cream and pieces of caramelized fruit--its something I really really want you to participate in...but I know you dont like this sorta stuff and I wont force you

Adler sits back realizing what he had done, hes been neglecting a part of her that is important to her,those were her roots and he was stepping all over them.

He finished his breakfast and Walked over to her, lifting her up and hugging her--Im so sorry babe--he kissed her cheek-- I know this is important to you and i--

Jeri smiled kissing him again and cupping his cheeks--How about you come to todays festival in time temple with me huh?you dont have to wear our traditional attire,but I tell you it gets cold there

--Id love to, do I have to bring something?

--Not really, im going to make an offering though,it depends on the person

--perfect then...cant wait

Both smiled and kissed again.

The end of the day arrived quickly between work and chores to do.

Adler was waiting by the door fixing his leather jacket.

--How do I look?

Russ looks up at jerico and gasps--Very pretty

She smiled playing with the hem of her green turtle neck that had her shoulders peeking, her roman sandals clicked and clacked with every step she made.

The drive to time temple wasnt long, and luckily they arrived just in time for the story.

The elder priestess smiled when she saw jerico and nodded, proceeding to talk-- a long time ago, the second generation of dieties were born, they were meant to regulate life, amongst the three of them we find our patron goddess...chronos the incessant pass of time...

Elementus tasked a human to build a machine that could measure time, that is when the first sun clock was born,the human handed it to the Creator and with a sprinkle of magic the clock changed into a small girl, with short black hair, she had pale skin and two pale blue eyes, and from there,she was born.

Trained by elementus sister, Ray,the god of war...she then moved to her Realm where she measures time and the life of every being in existence..., from humans to animals and even objects, some say that she collects clocks of all kind and if.you want to meet her youll need to bring the rarest of clocks,of course, its all myths...or...are they?--the priestess finished her tale,and the offerings began.

Adler uncomfortably stayed behind as jeri prayed,she then Turned to him and ushered him to come closer.

--And this is my boyfriend, Russell

--Babe what are you doing?

--Introducing my aunt to you

--Your...aunt?

--Yeah ive told you like a month ago im half goddess..and this is my aunt...chronos

--I...I thought you were joking when you said that --Jeri Turned at her boyfriend with a face of pure disbelief,he hunched his back--Sorry...

--Anyway..chronos...hes my boyfriend Russell, I wish you were here to meet him...hes very sweet sometimes

--Sometimes?

She chuckled and kissed his cheek-- sometimes--she then Turned at the statue--i wish you were here to meet him, I really miss you--Adler gave her some space and sat back on the chair--i miss you and dad so much...--she stood up--Ill..ill see you later auntie chronos--she smiled and Walked over to adler hugging him.

The festival inside the temple was full of music and food of all kinds, and both came back home exhausted.

Adler maybe got a solid six ours of sleep before hes awaken by her girlfriends voice--Babe...babe wake up...

He smiled kissing her--Morning princess

--There you are,change quickly my family came to visit

His eyes Open wide --What?

--Yeah they are here, come on change

She patted his chest and Walked into the kitchen, where abbadon was setting the table.

Adler Walked in a few minutes later only to find two men and three women talking with her girlfriend,who noticed him and hugged him--Okay everyone, say hi to russel,Russell this is abbadon, this is chronos--she said pointing at the woman with short black hair and glasses-- those are my aunts eryz and ozi, aka the goddeses of life and death--

Adler was baffled at the normalcy jeri used when talking about her family,he looked at ozi,her black Long hair fell down to the floor, a scar along her left eye and she was wearing a long blue. sundress,eryz had short brown hair, using the same glasses as chronos was, she had vitiligo and was wearing a white shirtdress with a green fitted blazer--and this is my Dad,Raymond.

To say adler was scared shitless was an understatement,his father in law was wearing a black leather jacket,black jeans and boots,a white t-shirt and aviator sunglasses, he was also way taller than him,with his black hair pushed back and two scars on each side of his face,one under his right eye and one right on the left side of his jaw in the middle between his mouth and the spot where both jaw and neck meet.

Chronos laughed and softly elbowed Ray-- Raymond youre scaring the poor human

--He better treat my daughter alright..

Jeri smiled and kissed russel--Dont worry dad he does

They all sat to eat breakfast, adler seemed intimidated by the dietys around him,but slowly let his guard down, they were a pleaseant bunch in their own way, more human than hed like to think.

Sadly after breakfast they all had to leave.

After saying their goodbyes russel and jerico end up cuddling on the bed.

--Your family is nice--russel said as he ran his fingers through her hair.

--nexts to meet yours

He chuckled--Maybe

They kiss, and he hugs her waist enveloping her in a tight bear hug.

--I love you jer

--I love you too russ

[lamortexiii]

Cryptic Mystic: Ouija & You

We’ve all heard of ouija boards. Maybe you played with one as a kid. Maybe you come from a place where they are forbidden. Why do certain cultures view this divine board as deserving of high praise, while others are terrified of it? Maybe you should be terrified, or maybe… if you know what you’re doing and you’re careful... you may have found exactly what you’re looking for. Get ready to explore the catacombs of ouija stemming from its origins to what we know it as today. Strange encounters, myths, mediums, and tales of yore; we will dive into some of the mysterious happenings that surround the Ouija board.

Before the Ouija board there was the “talking board.” The talking board is a descendent of automatic writing, also known as psychography, in which a person thought to have psychic abilities is able to write words without consciously thinking about it. Automatic writing can be traced back to China as early as 1100 AD. The Chinese termed this activity “fuji” or “planchette writing.” A planchette is the heart-shaped tool used as your guide when engaging with a Ouija board. Similar practices have been found in various countries around the world.

During the spiritualist movement of the late 1800s mediums began using this technique as a part of their ritualistic practices. This became especially popular with those who had lost loved ones during war and those who had served in the war and lost combat buddies. Due to the skepticism of legit mediumship, talking boards slowly became associated with part of this skepticism.

A businessman from Baltimore, Maryland named Elijah Bond discovered talking boards one day and decided to make a patent on the boards and planchettes, turning them into the “family fun game” we know today as sold by toy companies. His patent was granted in 1891, and the mass manufacturing of talking boards began. The name “Ouija board” and its origins are up for speculation. One story from one of the manufacturers of the original boards said that he learned the name “Ouija” by using a talking board, and that he was told this means “good luck” in an ancient Egyptian language. After his experience he began terming the boards as Ouija boards, and that is supposedly how we know them today. Another story suggests that an employee of Bond named William Fuld coined the name Ouija from a combination of French and German words for “yes.” The actual origin of the name is a mystery, but these are the most popular stories that have been passed down from generation to generation. To be completely honest, I always thought there was a cool story behind the term. Nope,  just boring old businessmen trying to make a quick buck. *hard eye roll*

Scientists have an explanation for the phenomenon that takes place whenever someone engages with a Ouija board. Their theory is that the movement of the planchette across the board is caused by an ideomotor response. This is a psychological response in which someone makes movements unconsciously. The unconscious mind is thought to produce answers in a way that psychologists call a dissociative state. A dissociative state is one in which consciousness is somehow divided or cut off from some aspects of the individual's normal cognitive, motor, or sensory functions. Many studies have shown that participants move the planchette around the board themselves involuntarily. Don’t ask me how they measure an involuntary movement versus a voluntary one - I don’t know. I have to challenge this theory, as there is much we do not know about the world around us, and the many worlds around this one. In the early 1900s as research continued to be conducted on this phenomenon, many more skeptics surfaced as Ouija boards were used by con-artists for financial gain. This progressed to Ouija boards being associated with cults in the 1970s. If you were seen using a Ouija board in that time you may be thought to be a “devil worshiper,” because Christians began to spread the word that whenever people were using these boards they were talking to demons rather than entities from another realm. In more recent times, Ouija boards have been burned alongside Harry Potter books as being considered witchcraft.

I have a few noteworthy encounters with Ouija boards that I feel are important to share with you. The first was when I was about 12 years old. I was at a friend’s house. We used the board in their home between 5 of us. Most of the kids were goofing off and not taking it seriously, so I lost interest. That is, until my friend’s younger brother started freaking out. A terrified look spread across his face as he told us that he had seen a dark figure pass behind us in the room. We all thought he was joking, but then he got up and started screaming. Because of all of the commotion, my friend’s mother noticed what we were doing and ordered that we take the board out of the house immediately. We weren’t supposed to have the Ouija board in her house, but one of the kids had managed to sneak one in. Two of the kids that had brought the board to the house left with the board and took off down the street. My friend’s little brother followed them. My friend and I hung back for a few minutes, but then decided to take a walk around town. As we got to the end of the alley that was beside her house we noticed her brother and the other two kids by the soda machine at the corner store. There was a small fire burning in front of them. Within the fire was the Ouija board. My friend screamed at them, “what the fuck are you doing?!” We were both a little upset that they were going to the extreme of burning it. Her brother told us it was his idea after what he had seen in their house, and that he was not joking with us. We let them be, and continued to walk around town for about an hour. When we got back to her house I couldn’t believe my eyes. On the front porch sitting on the edge of a bench was the Ouija board in perfect condition. There were no burn marks, scratches, or dirt. It looked as though it hadn’t been touched. We immediately went to my friend’s brother and our other two friends who were playing video games in his bedroom. My friend begged to know what kind of trickery they were pulling on us. They swore they didn’t trick us and that they had burnt the board and threw the small remnants in a dumpster. No one ever figured out how the Ouija board ended up in perfect condition back at their house, but my friend did end up keeping it under her bed to hide it from her mom. We would bring it out every now and again, just not in front of her brother.

Another time, when I was 13 I was at another friend’s house. She lived with her mother and her boyfriend in the projects. There was a spare bedroom in their unit that her older sister had used to stay there for a while before she got another place to live. One day when I was hanging out at my friend’s place she asked me if I wanted to break out her Ouija board. I knew that she was big into witchcraft and dark arts, and she was a good friend, so I trusted her judgement. This was much different than the time with my other friends because this time it would be just me and this friend, and she was familiar with her Ouija board. While I was there I remember she made a circle of salt around us, and dropped some sort of oils around while she recited an incantation. She called this “blessing the board,” and said it would protect us from anything evil that may be present. Shortly after we started we got a hit. We talked to a man who said he was murdered in the 1800s and thrown in a nearby creek. The reason he was murdered is because he was accused of sleeping with a married man’s wife. He claimed he was innocent. When he died he was in his 20s. He was a local to the area. After we were done talking with him, my friend closed the board and did a different incantation before we were finished. It was an interesting experience that gave me goosebumps. This experience was much better than my initial one. I did question whether or not my friend was moving the planchette, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt and trusted that she wasn’t and that the experience we had was a legit encounter with something not of this world.

Personally, I believe there is something more to Ouija boards that is powerful. I believe Ouija boards to be yet another mysterious unknown that we only know a fragment about. Think about it - where do ideas come from? What or who planted the seed for this thought; this idea that spiraled into what we know today as the Ouija board. If you notice, it came in stages and progressed into the modern board that we know today. Some documentaries have made mention of the ancient Egyptians holding key knowledge to how this world and other worlds work, and that this gift was bestowed on them from the Gods or “sky people.” One of the theories of how the Ouija board got its name has potential origins in ancient Egypt. Could it be that other life forms set this idea into motion all of those years ago, knowing what automatic writing would eventually turn into? Could it be that the power that we experience when engaging with a Ouija board is somehow related to extraterrestrials? Is this why there is a strong emphasis on the sun, moon, and stars within the drawings and carvings surrounding Ouija board decor? One thing is for certain, there is much more to the Ouija board than meets the eye. This practice has been around for thousands of years. We would be foolish to not at least question the “what if’s” that surround some of the mysteries of its origin and capabilities. As I always say, at the end of the day you choose what you want to believe.

Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

[bang-and-a-blintz]

Through the Darkness

CHAPTER THREE - RUDA DE SÂNGE

Fandom: Dracula (2020)  

Relationship: Dracula/Roxana(OFC)  

Rating: Mature  

Warnings: None  

Word Count: 3,114

There was an awkward pause that suspended the room in time. Roxana’s brain was running in overdrive and her nerves were completely shot, but she managed to convince her lungs to return to function and smiled. “My name is Roxana von Hels and welcome to Sanguine.”

Dracula couldn’t believe his eyes. Another Van Helsing? The resemblance was unmistakable and suddenly the image of Zoe’s corpse lying in the morning sun flashed in his mind. However, this woman before him was very much alive. Her cherubic features and rosy cheeks were a vast difference from the pale, waifish complexions of the nun and scientist. The lack of sunshine in both Eastern Europe and England probably attributed to that, but even so, this Roxana had a certain glow that was unlike the others. 

He barely caught her words as she continued on about the dishes placed in front of him and his dinner companions. Not that he cared, because it wasn’t like he was actually going to eat any of it. Dracula didn’t even spare a glance at the food, for the sight before him was too delicious and he wasn’t going to miss a single moment.

As she spoke, he could still hear her heart hammering away inside her chest and his lips quirked, it seemed that she knew exactly who he was. Very curious. A million questions flooded his mind and he was ravenous for answers. 

After everything that happened with Agatha and Zoe, he shouldn’t be surprised to find another descendent of that incessant lineage. Was he doomed to run in circles with these women again and again for all of eternity? 

“Now, I hope you all enjoy, my colleague and I will be preparing the other courses in the kitchen. Should you need anything, Angeline will be happy to assist. Bon appétit!” Roxana clapped her hands and made to turn when Dracula’s deep voice stopped her short.

“Um, pardon me, Miss von Hels, might I have a word-?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Balaur, but this is New Orleans,” She cut him off smoothly with a smile, not knowing what gave her a sudden bout of courage but she was going to roll with it, “And dinner precedes conversation. Please enjoy.”

A breath of a laugh escaped Dracula as his head tilted slightly, the words all too familiar to him and before he could speak again, she turned and fled. The mayor, his wife, and the attorney all chuckled boisterously, digging into their meals and sloppily clinking their glasses of wine, the dark red splashing all over. 

Smiling to himself, Dracula knew she couldn’t hide from him forever and he didn’t mind practicing a little patience. After all, the pawn had finally crossed the board and turned into another queen; the game was afoot.

“So, who is Agatha?” Ah yes, he might have forgotten about the woman next to him.

——

“Who the fuck was that?” Al exploded as soon as the two were out of hearing range, but Roxana could not be bothered with her friend at the moment. Her fingers dug into her hair and nearly ripped handfuls out as she tugged on the strands helplessly. 

This couldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t. But she had known that someday it might. Her grandmother always warned her that he would find her, but Roxana had been skeptical after hearing those folk tales all her life. It’s not like she actually believed any of the bayou voodoo hoopla! Who in their right mind would?

But she could still hear her grandmother’s voice telling her, “Someday when you’re grown, my sweet baby girl, that dirty rotten heathen will find you just like he found your ancestors. He will come in the night. He will try to steal your blood and your soul, but you must never ever give in, you hear me? That nasty vampire ain’t never going to get my grandbaby, no sir, Dracula better steer clear.”

The tales were one thing, as a child growing up around cajun folklore stories, something as laughable as a vampire was just that. A joke. Albeit a pretty fucked up joke, if Roxana was being perfectly honest with herself. But of course, to her misfortune, those myths became reality when two men in suits from the Harker Foundation came knocking on her door. 

As a precaution, they wanted to inform the youngest Van Helsing after certain recent events that involved her not-so-distant relative. They showed her footage of the night he emerged from the ocean outside of London, they showed her the footage of him at the foundation, they showed her photos of his victims strung across London, and they showed her just one image of what looked like herself sprawled out on a table in a pool of blood and a gaping hole in her neck. The last photo was Zoe Van Helsing, as Roxana came to learn, and she was left for the Foundation to find after Dracula vanished. She was very much dead.

All of a sudden it was very, very real. Vampires existed. Supernatural creatures wandered the world and feasted on humans to survive. The world was abruptly tilted and Roxana did not know what to do with this information. Neurons fired far more rapidly than her brain could keep up and she battled the urge to vomit all over their fancy suits.

They assured her that Dracula had no idea who she was or where she lived, that the whole debriefing was purely preliminary, but if she did come in contact with him then she should contact them immediately. They gave her a business card and walked back out of her life. 

As if they hadn’t ripped the metaphorical rug from right under her feet and then just fucked off leaving her with nothing but a small, disappointing rectangle to fight these newfound demons. 

Hands grabbing her shoulders and giving her an almost violent shake brought her back to Earth and she realized where she was. His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head, “Yo what is your problem right now? You look like someone told you they was bout to set a scorpion loose in your snatch, girl, you freaking me the fuck out!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, shit.” Roxana sighed and went over to the bar to pull the bottle of Jameson off the shelf. “It’s nothing, I’m fine, just let’s forget about it and finish this dinner.”

He gaped in disbelief as she threw back a shot and walked back to the grill like nothing happened, “Nothing?! Yeah, okay, and I’m Pope John Paul. First off, Mr. Dark and Stormy straight eye-fucking you back there should have been illegal. Secondly, I haven’t seen you take a shot of jamo in three years - you know why? Because we almost died that night you took me out to the levee and we chugged a bottle and you broke your foot and you vowed never to drink that devil’s juice ever again. That’s how I know you a lying ass hoe!”

She took a deep breath to calm herself and looked back over to her friend with a sincere expression, “Please, Al, let this one go. I cannot and will not explain to you why I acted that way in there and I really need you to just trust me on this.”

Al looked at her for a moment, gaging the severity in her gaze, he’d never seen her so shaken. He did trust her though and when he finally acquiesced, her shoulders sagged in relief. “Well, alright, fine. If you say so.”

“Thank you.” Roxana meant it. The less Al knew about the vampire sitting out in their dining room, the better.

——

Dracula’s gaze slid over to the beauty seated to his left, it lingered on the curve of her neck and he felt slightly disappointed to hear the lack of a pulse. He had easily changed the subject from his misstep of calling their host by the wrong name, to a discussion of the future, specifically their future. 

He had met Keres at a gala months before, she had lured him with her beauty and they both were pleasantly surprised when they each tried to take bites out of each other’s neck. This was a first for Dracula as he had never met anyone else like him; sure he had plenty of failed creations under his belt and he knew of all the unresting souls trapped in their tombs, but never had he seen someone who wasn’t…feral. But apparently, it was a thing. Who would’ve thought?

She was around two centuries old from a small village in Italy, Keres had told him, after years passed by and she had not aged, the townsfolk took to action and chased her away with the classic torches and pitchforks method. Eventually her travels took her to the new world, starting in Massachusetts and making her way down South after the witch hunts started getting a bit too tense for her tastes. Like Dracula, she found a certain comfort, so to speak, in the city of New Orleans…it was a circus and she loved being the star of the freak show. 

As it turned out, the supernatural scene in The Big Easy was actually quite lively and she spent years thoroughly integrating herself into the culture. Time passed on and she started an organization to maintain a sort of order amongst the undead, lest they drink their fill and wipe out the entire population. Rules were set in place and those who failed to comply faced the consequences. 

This was the topic of discussion for the evening. The mayor had a tedious relationship with the supernatural order and so he orchestrated this dinner party as a truce between kinds. He was trying desperately to maintain control of his city, but unfortunately he was unaware that it was no longer his. Keres just allowed him to maintain the illusion.

Dracula took a sip from the glass of blood before him. it was an appreciated effort from Keres to provide them both with a tangy forty-five businessman; quite the fitting vintage for this particular meeting. The attorney was discussing the necessities of making sure the bodies stay down, which was the vampires’ responsibility, and as a rebuttal, Dracula pointed out the nearness of the Mississippi River. 

“Now, Mr. Balaur,” The man in the periwinkle suit smiled like a sleaze, “We can’t have these…animated bodies start floating up in the gulf or elsewhere. This is the twenty-first century and everyone’s been tagged up and geo-located in some way. They can be tracked back here very easily.”

The Count gave a resigned sigh and waved a hand absently, “Fine, fine, the river will be for emergencies only.”

The lawyer sputtered on his drink and Mayor Kendell laughed nervously, not completely sure if Dracula was joking or not. “Good fun, yes, good fun. Now we can agree that the locals are strictly off-limits -”

Dracula couldn’t help his incredulous laugh and Keres shot him a dark look in warning, but he waved her off as well, “What would you have us do, hm? Kindly check their identification before we sink our teeth in, I mean honestly, who has the time for that? It’s ridiculous.”

The mayor’s wife surprisingly nodded along with him and when her husband side-eyed her, she shrugged, “He’s got a point, you know.”

Keres swiftly cut in, her tone left no room for arguments and her eyes leveled the nervous humans. “What we will agree on, Mayor Kendell, is the policy of consent-only or the pre-deposited blood from donors. I have already procured documents of concurrence from the hospitals after a few generous donations from my organization.  Any creature of the supernatural shall have to accept these terms to live in our city, if not they will face exile or the stake. Do we have an accord?” 

The mayor’s face turned almost purple as he struggled to formulate any sort of counterargument. Clearly, he had never been spoken to like that, much less by a woman. His wife sat back with a small smirk on her face and took another generous swig of her gin and tonic. Clearly, she was loving this, and strangely not at all perturbed by the conversation’s subject.

“If I may,” Dracula interjected, dragging his nail around the rim of his glass, “It has been brought to my attention that various members of your esteemed society, Mr. Mayor, have proclivities towards the, oh shall we say, younger generation.”

The tension in the room thickened. Keres’ perfectly-plucked brow rose slightly as this was news to her.

He put his hands up defensively, “Now, I could care less what dirty deeds you aristocrats get yourselves into, and trust me, I have quite the record on just how depraved you people really are. However,” The sound of his clap made the men jump in their seats, “I think that we can come to an agreement here. It would be such a shame if this information fell into the wrong hands, don’t you think?”

At that moment, the kitchen doors swung open again to reveal Roxana and Al carting in the rest of the meal. Dessert could not have come sooner, Dracula mused and downed the rest of his glass, his eyes once more trained only on her.

———

When they walked back in, Roxana was unsurprised to see the dish in front of Dracula hadn’t been touched, but what made her weary was the fact that the same could be said for the woman to his left. Well, that and their matching red-tinged glasses clearly did not have the same consistency as wine. 

“How is everything so far?” 

It was quiet for a beat until the mayor’s wife elbowed him in the side sharply and he coughed, “Very tasty, Miss von Hels, as always. Yes, yes, your filet was superb!”

She didn’t serve them a filet but she figured he was a little preoccupied with dining with vampires to pay attention anyways. Surely he knew what they were.

Still, Roxana smiled brightly, “I’m so pleased to hear, sir. For dessert we have our buttered, brown-sugar bananas flambeaux with a dark rum and a cinnamon vanilla ice cream to top it all off.”

Angeline swiftly gathered the dirty dishes, blushing when Dracula sent a wink her way and disappeared just as quickly back to the kitchens. A timid little thing, he thought detachedly, like a fawn running scared in the woods.

With a whoosh, flames erupted from the pan in Roxana’s hand and took his attention once again. Her brow furrowed, pinching her face in stern concentration as she skillfully flicked her wrist and the contents suspended in the air before snapping back into the pan. The fire rose higher for a moment longer and reflected back at her from the darkness of his eyes, before dissipating into smoke. 

The mayor’s wife ooh’d and aah’d and clapped happily at the performance; four empty glasses were spread out in front of her on the table as a testimony for her belligerence. “Encore!”

Al dished everything out and returned the cart to the back, leaving Roxana so he could begin breaking down the kitchen. No one, except the drunk woman, touched their dessert. Instead, the mayor cleared his throat and looked over to Dracula, “I will agree to your terms, on the condition that we must have a summit dinner with the rest of the order. To break bread, so to speak.”

Roxana’s brow scrunched up again, but this time in confusion. What on Earth were they talking about? The elder vampire smiled almost whimsically at her disorientation. 

Keres noticed how Dracula could not take his eyes off the chef, he seemed to not be able to focus on anything else in the room when she was present, and it was quite intriguing. “That sounds wonderful, Mr. Kendell, might I suggest using the same venue. This is, after all, such a quaint establishment.”

“Wait. What, now?”

“And I would like Mr. Balaur to oversee this event.” Keres nodded decisively and drank the last sip left in her glass, giving Roxana look that said I dare you to oppose.

Dracula grinned devilishly, “I would be delighted!”

“It is settled then. Mr. Kendell, if you’d like to coordinate your guest list with him, please do so when you are ready, and we shall reconvene at a later date. If that is all, I will take my leave.” Her no-nonsense voice left absolutely zero room for discussion and Keres elegantly strutted out of the building. The mayor looked green. He was next to shuffle out the door with his stumbling and giggling wife in tow. The attorney downed the rest of his whiskey and avoided his eyes, making for the exit as well.

“And then there were two.” Dracula’s tone was playful and his eyes were alight with mischief as he poured another glass for himself and licked his lips. He relished the way her heartbeat picked right back up again.

“Look,” Roxana began, giving him a stern look that just tickled him, “I know there are things we need to talk about…but first I need to send my employees home and clean up. I refuse to let them be caught up in whatever this is and I will not have a dirty kitchen.”

In the blink of an eye, he was right up in her personal space and had his hand around her neck. The man towered over her and tilted her head up to look directly into his dark eyes, “And why should I wait?”

He felt her gulp underneath his palm and his teeth habitually elongated, her heart thundered viciously within her chest as she tried desperately to control her breathing.

“Because you’re just as curious as I am, Count Dracula,” she placed her hand on his wrist, “And if you wanted to kill me, you would have done so already.”

 “Perhaps I enjoy playing with my food first.” There was a beat and then he sighed, releasing her. She took a step back immediately and he bent his head towards her, not letting her put too much distance between them. “Don’t take too long, Roxana, we have much to discuss.”

taglist:

@moony691​ @vissidarte213​ @festering-queen​

[mustangshelby04]

Boston Boy - Chapter 14

Kate wandered around the clean, white living room and admired the view from the backyard while Lisa followed her.  Chris came in behind them, setting their luggage down.  They were in Los Angeles for the Civil War press and premiere.  There were a lot of firsts happening on this trip for her.  First private jet ride, first time on the West Coast, first time going to a movie premiere, first time going public with her celebrity boyfriend…. She was working on not being overwhelmed.

“Welcome to my home away from home.” Chris said, walking up being Kate and wrapping his arms around her.  His hands went to her belly and he rubbed them in small circles.

“The view is pretty.” Kate said, leaning on him and laying her head back on his shoulder.  She was exhausted from jet lag and had developed a headache.

“You should go lay down, honey.” Lisa said, checking Kate’s forehead.

“Do I have time?”

“We’ve got plenty of time.” Chris said. “Ma’s right. You should go lay down.”  

“You need to take care of yourself, Kat.” Lisa said. “Chris, go lay down with her.  It’ll make her feel more comfortable in an unfamiliar bed.  I can entertain myself.”

He kissed Kate’s temple after she nodded her agreement. “Come on, baby.  Let’s go lay down.”

“I’ve got such a headache.” Kate said, rubbing her temples.

“I’ll get your Tylenol.” Lisa said.

“I have to pee again.” She grumbled as Chris led her to his master bedroom.

He pointed at the door to the master bathroom. “It’s right in there.  I’ll go grab our bags.”

“Ok.” When she came back out, Chris was sitting on the bed holding a glass of water and two Tylenol pills.  A pair of fluffy shorts and a large T-shirt sat next to him. He had changed from his jeans and sweater to a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt.  Their suitcases were sitting in and around the chair in the corner of the room. “Feel better?”

“Only my bladder does.  My head still hurts and my feet are swollen and I want to take a nap.”

“Here, take these.” He handed her the pills and water. Once she took them, he helped her to get into the shorts and shirt before easing her onto the bed.  He sat down and took her feet in his lap.  

She sighed with pleasure as he began to rub her feet. “Tell me about what’s on the agenda this week.”

“Tomorrow is the MTV Movie Awards.  Sunday I’ve got press to do all day.  Monday I film Ellen with Lizzie and later is Jimmy Kimmel Live. Then Tuesday is the premiere.”

“Then on to China?”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?  You could always fly back with Ma.” “I’ll be fine.  I’m excited for London.  It’s only a couple of days, but I’ve always wanted to go.”

“I’m just worried about all that traveling and how it’ll affect you.”

“I’ll be tired, but it’s nothing I’m not used to right now.  I can’t sleep on my stomach, so I can’t get comfortable, so I don’t get much sleep. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep on one of the planes.”

“You didn’t get any sleep on the plane here.”

“I’ll figure it out.” Kate sighed and rubbed her stomach. “Being pregnant is hard.”

Chris chuckled. “I can only imagine.”

She reached out for him. “Come lay down.  Be my big spoon.”

“Happily.” Chris crawled up her body, kissing his way up her leg and then her arm.  He dropped behind her and spooned against her, wrapping his arm around her and rubbing small circles on her belly.  A strong kick to his hand made him jerk back. “Holy shit!” He laughed and put his hand back.

“Oh good, you can feel that now, too.” Kate heard him sniff behind her and she turned her head to see Chris wiping at tears running down his cheeks. “Awe, Chris….”

“Sorry.  I just…. That’s my kid.  That’s our kid.  We made that.”

“We sure did.” She turned over onto her back and covered his hand with hers as he rested it on her belly.

He laughed again as the baby kicked his hand. “Kat, I am so fucking happy.  I can’t remember ever being happier.”

Kate reached up and wiped away his tears with her free hand. “Is it just now hitting you that you’re going to be a daddy?”

“A little bit.” He ducked his head to kiss her shoulder and then rested his head there, staring at their hands on her stomach. “I’ve known it was coming.  I’ve watched you grow with our little Jelly Bean in there, but feeling our baby kick…. It means it’s real.”

“Oh, what?  I was just getting fatter till now?” Her tone implied that she was joking, but Chris still looked panicked.

“I didn’t say that!”

She giggled. “Baby, calm down.  I was kidding.” “I know, but I don’t want you to ever think that you’re fat or ugly.  You are so gorgeous and you just get more beautiful with every day that passes and I just love you so fucking much.”

“You don’t have to try so hard to get laid.” Kate poked Chris’ nose with a grin. “I’m all yours, baby.”

Chris laughed and kissed her. “We’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“This leads to sleep eventually….” A jaw-splitting yawn cut her off.

“You sleep.  If you feel up to it later, then we’ll work something out.”

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

When Kate woke up a couple of hours later, she felt the familiar roiling of her stomach.  She quickly got out of bed and rushed into the bathroom.  Lisa happened to be walking by Chris’ bedroom door when she heard the retching.  She rushed into the bathroom and knelt down by Kate, holding her hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other.  Chris was in the kitchen on the phone with Megan.

“I thought the second trimester was supposed to be a cakewalk.” Kate said with a shaky voice.

“That’s a myth.” Lisa said, sitting with Kate. “There is nothing about being pregnant that is a cakewalk.”

“Maybe I need to start reading those books I bought.”

“You haven’t started?”

“I’ve been tracking my pregnancy on an app on my phone.  It gives me all the details of what I can expect that week and the size of the baby.”

“That’s really neat.”

“This week, Jelly Bean is the size of a head of cauliflower.” Lisa laughed. “Chris has the app, too.”

“There’s a party in my bathroom.” Chris said, drawing the women’s attention to him standing in the doorway. “Everything ok?”

“Morning sickness that can’t tell time.” Kate said. “Now that it’s over, I feel better.”

“It was probably all the excitement of travelling.” Lisa said, getting to her feet with her son’s help.

“Thanks for being here with her, ma.” Chris said, taking his mother’s vacated seat on the bathroom floor.

“It’s my pleasure.  I’ll go see what I can cook up for dinner later.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.  I thought we could take Kate out for a little site-seeing and dinner somewhere if she feels up to it.” He looked over at Kate. “Since you’ve never been here, I thought it could be fun.”

“Only if you feel up to it, sweetie.  You don’t want to tire yourself out any more than you already have.”

“I actually feel pretty rested right now.” Kate said. “I wouldn’t mind some site-seeing with you guys.  Will it be ok for you, Chris?  I know LA is kind of paparazzi central.”

“Yeah.  I’ll just pop on some sunglasses and a hat.  It should be a good enough disguise.”

“Kate, you’ll need to put some on, too.” Lisa said. “The internet has your picture everywhere and people are going to notice you. Especially in Los Angeles.  The last thing you two need is to get mobbed.”

“I’ve got a few hats you can choose from, babe.”

“Ok.  Get your ass up and help me up.” Chris chuckled and hopped to his feet.  He held his hands out and helped Kate to stand up. When he leaned in to kiss her, she ducked her head away. “You really don’t want to do that.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll go unpack your toothbrush.”

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris sat on the edge of the bed and watched Kate sleep.  She had been fast asleep when he’d woken up that morning and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her.  They had gotten home kind of late the night before.  He had planned on taking her to Grauman’s Theatre, a few places on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Rodeo Drive, and maybe the Griffith Observatory.  Instead, she had convinced him to take her to Disneyland.  They had spent all afternoon and well into the night there, closing the place down. She couldn’t do any of the thrill rides, but she had had plenty of fun with everything else she could do.  They had enjoyed a late romantic dinner at Carthay Circle Restaurant.  They had been lucky to get a table, but there had been a last-minute cancellation. Lisa had spent the afternoon with them, but had left early in the evening to give the couple time together.

“Hey sleepy head.” Chris leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It’s almost noon.”

“Mmmm.” Kate tried to roll onto her stomach, but her bump stopped her and she groaned.

He chuckled. “I’m really happy that you got some sleep, but now we’ve gotta start getting ready to go.  Jenn is here to pamper you.”

She lifted her head and curled around to lay it on Chris’ lap. “I’m cozy.”

Chris smoothed out her unruly hair. “I know. If you don’t want to go to the show with me, you don’t have to.  Ma isn’t going.  I’m sure you guys can hang out here or go out and sightsee around LA.”

“I want to go, but I want to be asleep, too.”

“I promise we won’t be there long.  I just have to introduce a clip from the movie and then mingle a little bit.”

Kate nodded and moved to sit up.  She ended up facing Chris and gave him a smile before leaning forward and nuzzling her head on his shoulder.  He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “Am I really going to the MTV Movie Awards tonight?”

“Seems like.”

“I used to watch them all the time when I was younger.”

“They were a lot more exciting back then, right?”

“They really were.  I think the last decent one I remember seeing was the one that Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jack Black hosted.  Or maybe it was when Justin Timberlake hosted with that guy from American Pie.”

“You know Justin lives down the road from me?”

“Really?  I might go for a walk tomorrow.  Which way should I head?”

Chris laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Good thing he’s married.  You would win him over and I might lose you to him.”

“Oh, you definitely would.  I’m a hardcore NSYNC fan.”

“Don’t tell Shanna that.  She’s hardcore Backstreet Boys.”

Kate giggled. “Ok, I guess I’ll get up now. I’m going to brush my teeth before I go out there, though.”

“Ok.  I’ll wait here.” Chris laid down and stretched out in her vacated spot.

“Well, that’s not fair.  Why do you get to lay down?”

“Because I’m not getting my hair and makeup done.”

“You should probably rethink that.  The camera is definitely going to pick up how hideous your face actually is, then.”

Chris laughed loudly, covering his chest with his hand as the rest of his limbs levitated off the mattress.  He turned on his side and propped his head up on his hand. “Maybe I should let you go out and introduce the clip?  You’re already gorgeous.  That hair and makeup is only going to make it stand out more.”

“Pretty sure I would disappoint all your fans.”

“Just the female ones.  The male fans might try to steal you away.”

“Well, I’m also pretty sure Jelly Bean is a big deterrent to other guys.” She turned and walked into the bathroom while Chris just grinned at her.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The place was loud and full of beautifully dressed celebrities.  Jenn had dressed Kate in a fashionable blue dress that was off the shoulders and hugged her body from her shoulders to her knees.  It made her bump stand out.  She was wearing a pair of black, peep-toe pumps that had four-inch heels.  Jenn had teased her hair and then put it into a low side ponytail.  Her makeup was done very naturally and dewy as a request from Chris to just show off Kate’s natural beauty.

Kate gripped Chris’ hand as they walked through the backstage area behind Megan, his publicist.  The place was actually outdoors this year.  Everywhere they went, people stared inquisitively at her.  Chris waved at and talked to some of the celebrities, always introducing Kate.  Some of them were friendly to her, others just nodded and ignored her.  She was starting to feel like an outsider and it was making her cling to Chris as her insecurities started to creep through her.

“Captain Little Ass!” An unmistakable, loud voice called from a few feet away.  They turned to see Anthony Mackie making his way over. “Bring it in here, bro!” The two men hugged tightly. “Congratulations, man!  Welcome to the daddy club!”

“Thank you.” Chris laughed. “Mackie, this is my girlfriend, Kate.  Kate, this is Anthony Mackie.”

“I’m a hugger.” Mackie warned, bringing Kate into a tight hug. “Congratulations to you, too!”

“Thank you.  It’s lovely to meet you.” Kate smiled as Chris wrapped his arm around her waist.

“This dude talks non-stop about you. Seriously, the Avengers group chat has been non-stop Kate talk.”

“Oh, god.  That’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.  We’re all really excited for you guys.  And he has nothing but great things to say about you.”

Kate looked up at Chris lovingly. “That’s so sweet.”

“So, when are you due?”

“July 22nd.” Chris and Kate said in unison.

Mackie laughed. “Not too much longer.  You’re almost in your third trimester, then.”

“Yes.”

“Are you excited?”

“Is that the same thing as nervous?  If so, then yes.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about.  If you need any advice, my wife, Sheletta, would be more than happy to help you out.  She pretty much adopted Chris the moment she met him, so you’re family now, too.”

“Oh, thank you!”

“What am I saying?  You’re getting hit with advice left and right, I bet.”

“A little bit, but I’m just trying to listen to my body and my doctor.”

“That’s the best thing.  Every pregnancy is different.  You do you, girl.”

“Chris, Josh Horowitz wants to do an interview with you and Mackie.” Megan said.

“Oh, uh….” Chris looked at Kate, not wanting to leave her.

“I’ll guard her.” A deep, Australian voice said from their left.

“Hemmy!” Chris and Mackie yelled.  The three men embraced and Chris turned back to Kate. “Kat, this is Chris Hemsworth.  Hemmy, this is my girlfriend, Kate.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Kate said, shaking Hemsworth’s hand. “I’m not gonna call you Hemmy.”

Hemsworth laughed. “It’s ok.  I’ve tried to get them to stop, but they’re assholes.  Look at you!  You’re bloody gorgeous.  Has Evans figured out that you’re out of his league, yet?”

“Oh gosh!” Kate blushed profusely. “I am way out of my element right now.”

“For the record, I figured it out a long time ago.” Chris said. “But she keeps choosing me, so I’m not complaining.” He kissed her quickly. “You’re in good hands with Hemmy.  I’ll be quick.” She watched him walk off with Megan and Mackie.

“How are you feeling?” Hemsworth asked.

“I’m ok.  I actually got to sleep last night.” Kate said, turning to look up at the tall Australian.

“Evans gushes about you and the baby non-stop.”

She laughed. “So I’ve heard.”

“We’re all really excited about it.  He’s going to be such a great dad.  We’re all really excited to get to know you, too.”

“That’s so sweet.  You and your wife just had twins, right?”

“We did!  They’re almost two years old now.”

“Congratulations.  That must be terrifying.”

Hemsworth laughed. “It was a bit of a shock at first, but we absolutely love it.”

“I’m sure it’s fun being outnumbered.”

“You’ll find out eventually, I’m sure.”

“Oh, we, uh…. We haven’t talked about that.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry.  Please, ignore me.  I talk too much.”

“No.  It’s ok. Really!  I mean, I’ve known that Chris wants kids plural.  I am a fan of his and I’ve seen his interviews.  I think you guys did one for Age of Ultron talking about him wanting kids after babysitting yours.”

“Good memory.”

“It’s just that…. Well, this one was kind of a shock, so I haven’t even thought about anything past this one.”

“I’m sorry.  Evans said that it wasn’t planned.  I just stuck my foot in my mouth.  I hope you’re not offended.”

“I’m not.  Really, I’m not.”

“Just the way he talks about you and the future….” Hemsworth shrugged sheepishly. “Topic change?”

“Sure!”

“Are you excited about going to the premiere later this week?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be.  You’ll have a blast.  I won’t lie and say the first time isn’t intimidating, but once you get over the initial insanity of it all, it’s actually quite fun.”

“Will you be there?”

“No.  Thor didn’t get invited to the war.  Besides, I’ve got press to do for this movie.”

“Hey, how do you handle people wanting to know every detail about you?”

“Deflection.  You give them just enough to think they’re actually getting something juicy, but in reality it’s just something they already know just rephrased.”

“I have no idea how to do that.”

Hemsworth laughed. “Honestly, I have no idea either. My wife gets annoyed with me sometimes because I think I always manage to give too much away.”

“I’m really glad I’m not a celebrity.  I don’t know how you guys can do interview after interview with the same questions.”

“Oh, that’s easy.  The more bored I get as the interviews go along, the more insane my answers get.  I kind of feel sorry for the reporters at the end of the day because they’re just getting complete bullshit out of me.”

Kate laughed. “Chris told me he gets kind of crazy at the end of junkets, too.”

“Marvel stopped letting us interview together because we were just the worst.”

“It’s true.” Megan said, joining the conversation. “I got so many calls about the shit that came out of them, I could’ve wrung their necks for it.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but it was too much fun.”

“Thanks, Hemsworth.” Megan laughed. “Chris is just finishing up and he’s got to go do his intro.  If you want to watch, there’s a green room we can go to.” “I was heading there, too.” Hemsworth said. “I’ve got to meet up with Charlize and Jessica.”

“Can I go to the bathroom first?” Kate asked.

“Again?  You just went when we got here.” Megan said.

“She’s pregnant, Megan.” Hemsworth chastised. “She can’t help it.”

“Right.  Sorry. Come on.  There’s a bathroom in the green room.”

“Thanks.” Kate said. Hemsworth fell into step next to Kate and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Told you I would protect you.”

“Thor to the rescue.”

“Always, fair maiden.”

Megan led them into the building that housed a large, plush area that was also filled with celebrities.  She pointed out the restrooms and promised to be waiting right outside the doors.  Hemsworth told Kate he wouldn’t leave the room until he’d gotten to see her again before heading off to join his castmates.

“Have you seen her yet?” A voice asked as two women walked into the bathroom.  Kate had just gotten settled on the toilet.

“Yes.” The other woman said. “Clearly she got pregnant on purpose to keep him around.”

“You think?”

“I mean, why else would he choose to stay with someone so fat and pathetic?  She looks like she’s going to burst out of that dress at any moment like a can of biscuits.  It’s gross.”

“I don’t know.  She’s kind of cute.”

“Please!  She’s a complete stalker.  There’s no way they met by chance.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you actually believe she was just there on vacation by herself?  Who even does that?  That’s just sad.  She totally went to Boston to stalk her celebrity crush and managed to fool him into sleeping with her.  Now she’s got him trapped playing house.” Kate felt like she’d been hit with a ton of bricks.  They were talking about her.  She peeked through the slit in the stall door to see if she could tell who the women were.

“You sure you’re not just mad that you didn’t think of it first?”

“I would never allow myself to get pregnant to keep a man.  I’m not desperate like that.  That’s just over-the-top, trailer-park trash skanky.”

“Well, he’s with her now.  What can you do about it?”

“I was actually hoping to run into him tonight. See if I can’t get him to scratch an itch one more time, if you know what I mean.”

“You two were definitely hot together.”

“You have no idea.  I bet he’s so bored with the porker that he needs some excitement in his life.  You know, I almost regret breaking it off with him.”

“Why did you?”

“I got bored.  Besides, he was starting to talk about marriage and I just wasn’t feeling that.  I will say that the thing I regret most about the breakup is giving up the sex.  He is great in bed.” The woman laughed harshly. “How the hell he can find where to stick it in all that fat is beyond me.  Seriously, how did that cow get him to sleep with her?  And who does she think she is coming here with him?”

“You’re just mad he never brought you anywhere.” Megan’s voice said suddenly.

“Megan!”

“Finally dumping your fame hungry ass was the greatest thing Chris ever did, Minka.”

“Fuck you too, twerp.” Minka and her friend stormed out of the bathroom.

Kate felt her face getting hotter as tears fell down her cheeks.  The woman talking shit about her was Chris’ ex-girlfriend, Minka Kelly.

“Kat?” Megan called softly.

Kate didn’t answer as she felt her throat constrict with overwhelming emotions.  The things Minka had said were vile and hurtful.  Kate tried her hardest to not let others’ opinions of her bother her too much, but to hear someone discuss her private life and be so vicious towards someone they didn’t even know was awful.  And there was a little voice in the back of her head that wondered if it was all true.  Had she trapped Chris because she wouldn’t have an abortion?

“Kat, I know you’re in here.” Megan said.  Kate sighed and got up off the toilet.  She adjusted her dress and walked out. “Oh, Kat, I’m so sorry.  Minka is such a bitch.” “Clearly.” Kate spat.

Megan handed her a tissue. “Please don’t listen to her.  Chris adores you.”

“I don’t stack up to her, Megan.  I don’t stack up to any of the people in his life here. We’ve been living in this little bubble and I forgot for a while, but being here…. Seeing these people…. Seeing her…. What the hell am I doing here?”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Kat.  They don’t stack up to you. Trust me.  I’ve been with Chris a long damn time and I’ve seen them all. Minka may be pretty on the outside, but she’s an ugly person on the inside.  She’s just jealous.” Megan hugged Kate tightly. “Seriously, she was the absolute worst thing on the planet for Chris.  She’s a fame whore.  She jumps to an ‘it’ guy and rides his coattails until the next ‘it’ guy comes along. Chris actually thought they had something, but she was just leading him on.  He finally realized it the second time they dated and he dumped her.”

“What about all the others?”

“There’s really not that many, Kat.  And trust me, none of them have what you have.”

“And what is that?”

“Chris’ heart.  Seriously, that man is head over heels for you in a way he’s never been before.”

“You didn’t hear what she said, Megan.”

“Not all of it, but I heard enough.  I’m so sorry, Kate.  This is all my fault.  I got distracted and completely missed her coming in here.  I should’ve headed her off.” Kate glanced at herself in the mirror and groaned. “Don’t worry about it.  Chris should be done and we can leave now.  He doesn’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to.  I just want to go home.”

“Ok.  We can definitely do that.”

Megan helped Kate clean her face up as best she could.  It was clear that Kate had been crying, but at least her mascara wasn’t running down her cheeks anymore.  When she finally felt presentable, she followed Megan out of the bathroom. Glancing around, she spotted Chris talking to Minka across the room.  Her hand was on his bicep and she was laughing at something he said.  Kate’s stomach dropped and fresh tears welled in her eyes.

“Fuck me.” Megan snapped emphatically.  Lucky for her, Hemsworth was nearby. “Hey, Chris, can you take Kate to where they’re keeping the cars?  She’s not feeling great.  I need to go get Chris.”

“Of course!” Hemsworth walked over and wrapped an arm around Kate’s shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart.  Let’s get you out of here.”

“Thank you.” Kate said, her voice wobbling as she tried to fight back the tears.

“Pregnancy sickness is no joke.  I’m sorry it’s ruined your night.” He rubbed her arm affectionately. “Evans will get you home and you’ll feel better in no time.”

“Thanks.”

Hemsworth got them to the loading area and let the valet there know that Kate was with Chris Evans.  The valet rushed off to get the driver out there quickly.  Kate was having a hard time keeping the tears at bay and now her morning sickness was actually trying to rear its ugly head. Thankfully the car got there quickly and Hemsworth helped her in, telling her he hoped she felt better soon.

Inside the green room, Megan marched over to Chris and Minka. “Seriously?” She snapped at the tall brunette. “You seriously have the nerve to walk over here and talk to him after all that?”

“Whoa, Megan!  What’s going on?” Chris asked.

“Kate was in the bathroom while your ex-bitch here talked shit about her.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know she was in there.” Minka said, her tone implying that she didn’t care Kate had heard everything.

“Who the fuck cares if you didn’t know?” Megan snapped. “You don’t know her and you have no claim on Chris, so you shouldn’t even be opening your mouth.  The things you said about her were fucked up.”

“Seriously?” Chris growled.

“It’s not my fault if she can’t handle people talking about her.” Minka defended. “I was just repeating what I’ve heard. Maybe she shouldn’t have set her sights on someone so out of her league if she can’t take people talking about her.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“After all I meant to you, you’re going to speak to me like that over her?”  

“You mean absolutely nothing to me.  Kate means everything to me!  Try spreading that shit around instead of the bullshit you’re spewing.”

“Chris….”

“We’re done here.  Stay away from me and my family.  Megan, let’s go.” Chris turned and marched off with Megan rushing to keep up. They passed Hemsworth on the way and he let them know Kate was already in the car.  Chris picked up his pace and practically ran to the car.  Kate was sitting in the back trying not to hyperventilate. “Oh, babe, I am so fucking sorry.” Chris wrapped Kate in his arms and she began to sob. “Please don’t let her get to you.  Please, baby.  She’s a piece of shit.” Kate couldn’t say anything.  She was too overcome with hurt and anger and it wasn’t helping her keep her morning sickness at bay.  Megan ordered the driver to pull over and Kate barely made it out of the car before she was sick on the side of the interstate.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris laid beside Kate and watched her sleep in the darkness.  He didn’t know exactly what Minka had said.  Kate hadn’t been coherent as they drove home and she had decided to just go to bed when they got to their house.  Lisa had tried to get her to talk while she’d helped her clean up and get into her shirt and shorts, but Kate just hadn’t felt like talking.

He reached over and placed his hand on her stomach, hoping to feel the baby move. “Did I trap you, Chris?” Her voice startled him.  He thought she’d been deep asleep.  

Then the meaning of her words hit him. “What?”

She pushed his hand away from her. “I did, didn’t I?  Because I wouldn’t have an abortion, you felt obligated to stay with me.”

“I think you forgot about the two months before we found out….”

“I’m sorry, Chris.  I’m sorry for invading your life.  It’s not what I meant to happen.”

“Stop it.”

“But it’s true!  You were living your life and then I just showed up and….”

“Made everything brighter.  You made my world better, Kat.”

“How did I do that?  I said from the beginning that I’m nothing special.”

“And I said from the beginning that you are extraordinary.  You haven’t done anything to prove me wrong.”

“The things she said…. Are people really saying that about me?”

“Who gives a shit?  Nothing anyone says is going to change how I feel about you.”

“I’m just a nobody fangirl who met the celebrity she adored and fooled him into loving her.”

“Is that how you really feel?  Or is that a conditioned response?”

“Conditioned response?”

Chris sat up and turned the bedside lamp on. “Kat, your father spent years making sure that you felt like you were never going to be good enough.  You spent years in therapy trying to recondition yourself to think otherwise, but you’re going back to that old way of thinking right now.  Do you remember what you said to me in Boston when I was worried about people being mean to you?  You were so confident in yourself then.  You said that you had heard it all about yourself and it wasn’t going to bother you.  Where did that Kat go?” “She was wrong.  It does bother me.”

“Why?” “Because my father was right.  I’m not good enough, Chris!  I’m not good enough to be your partner.  I’m not good enough to….”

“Stop it!”

“Look at how I reacted tonight!  That’s not how someone in a relationship with Chris fucking Evans should react to anyone talking shit about her.”

“How should she react?”

“She should have walked out of that stall and told Minka to go fuck herself.”

“And why didn’t she?”

“Because I’m not her!  I just sat there and listened to it and I didn’t stand up for myself because I feel like maybe she was right.  Maybe I did trap you because I wouldn’t have an abortion.”

“Take your pass.”

“What?”

“Take your pass.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m giving you a hormone pass.  Take it.”

“You think this is just hormones?”

“I know this is just hormones.  Baby, you had a rough night and you’re allowed to feel shitty, but I need you to take the hormone pass and come back to me, ok?”

“Chris….”

“Take the hormone pass, damn it!”

She blinked at him for a moment. “Ok!  I take the hormone pass!”

“Thank you.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I love you, too.” Chris stopped for a moment and stared at her.  He seemed to come to some conclusion and smiled to himself. “Kathleen Amelia Allen, I love you.  It is insane how much I love you.”

“Sometimes I really believe that insane part.”

He reached over and pulled out a little wooden box from the nightstand on his side of the bed.  He opened it to reveal a beautiful and unique engagement ring sitting in dark blue velvet.  The white gold ring was an art deco style with a European cut diamond set in a square-shaped halo of French cut sapphire accents.  A pear-shaped natural sapphire sat on either side of the square. “Kat, I bought this in Savannah after I left Richmond.  I bought this only three weeks after we met.  I was wandering through town waiting for you to get off work so I could call you and I saw this in the window of an old antique shop.  It just screamed your name.  I walked in and bought it because I knew one day, I wanted to give it to you.  I bought it well before I knew you were pregnant.  I’ve carried it with me everywhere I go since that day just waiting for the perfect moment.”

“You think me having a mental breakdown because your ex said some nasty things about me and made me realize how big and different your world actually is, is a perfect moment?”

“Uh…. Actually….” His resolve wavered for a moment, but he pushed it aside and continued on. “Yes.” He wove the fingers of his free hand with one of hers. “Kat, I have never in my life felt about anyone the way I feel about you.  Now is the perfect moment for you to understand that.  You didn’t trap me.  I’m exactly where I was meant to be and I’m asking you to be there with me, too. I’m asking you to marry me.” Kate opened and closed her mouth a few times, not finding the right words to come out. “I’m going to set this right here,” Chris kissed her hand and leaned over her to set the open ring box on her nightstand. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.  Or tomorrow. Or the next day, or the day after that…. But the question is there to be answered when you’re ready to answer it, ok?” She nodded. “Let’s go to sleep now?” Kate nodded again, laying on her side and letting Chris spoon against her back.

Tag List

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog

@jamielea81

@southerngracela

@kelbabyblue

@tfandtws

@southerngracela

@lovinevans

@ajosieface

@introvertedmouse

@sullyosully

@deidrashouseofpain

[moody-blues-requiem]

Hey, I hope I requested at the right time! If it’s alright, may I request a nsfw scenario with a yuki-onna Ghiaccio and a fem reader? Like the reader gets lost on his mountain and he finds her and begrudgingly takes her back to his warm home and sexy stuff happens?

This got kinda long but I’m putting it on my list of favorite things I’ve written. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it 💙

n/s/f/w under the cut

Your eyelids fluttered, your mind suspended somewhere in between sleep and waking. The mountain trek had been exhausting on your body, chilling you to the bone and testing your limits physically and mentally. But now you were snug in bed, finally warm--

Wait a second. You didn’t fall asleep in a bed.

Your eyes shot open, darting and panicked. Wooden walls surrounded you, logs packed tightly together, looking old and worn but they kept out the mountain cold. Assuming you were still on the mountain at all. You were covered in a thick fur blanket, soft and toasty. The room around you was mostly barren, only decorated with a few small furs hanging on the wall. Thinking back, the last thing you remembered was huddling down in an icy cave, freezing, sticking tight to the frozen rock walls, hoping for a break from the chilly winds. Feeling drowsy, you decided to rest your eyes… and now you were here. 

As tempting as it was to stay in bed, you decided to explore the cabin. Your body protested, bones cracking and muscles aching, but you made yourself stand and stretch. Only your underclothes-- the layer you wore above your underwear, but below a number of other thick clothes that were supposed to keep you warm-- remained on your body. Before you could get very far, though, there was a noise from somewhere else in the cabin. 

“FUCK!”

You weren’t alone. It made sense, you reasoned, someone had to bring you here, but… maybe it would be smarter to go back to sleep for a while, or at least pretend? No, your curiosity was too great. You had to know more. 

Opening the door slowly, you peered around the corner to see the rest of the cabin interior; a cozy-looking living room, an old couch parked in front of a roaring fireplace. Oh, how nice it would be in front of the fire… beyond the living room you could see the entry to the kitchen, the source of the noise. You couldn’t see who was there, only a shadow moving, and someone muttering to themselves. 

Steeling yourself, you called out. “Hello?”

“Shit!” the voice called back. You could see the shadow jump, startled, before the man ran to the kitchen entrance. “Do you know how rude it is to scare me like that?! Though I guess sneaking up behind me would have been worse…”

The man appeared before you in the kitchen doorway. Well, maybe “man” wasn’t correct. Almost all of him looked human-- two legs, two arms, one torso, one head, icy blue eyes to match his curly blue hair-- but protruding from his forehead and curved back slightly were two black, sharp horns. He wore long sleeves and pants, but only one layer was far too light for this weather. Ignoring his wardrobe, though, you couldn’t help but stare just above his head. 

“They’re horns! No need to look so damn confused about it.” 

“Sorry,” you stammered, “I-I… um. Haven’t seen a person with horns before. It’s… not common, where I’m from…?” You tried to be polite, but it didn’t sound too convincing, even to yourself. 

“It’s not common anywhere, genius. And I’m not a person either. I’m a Yuki-Otoko.”

The confusion must have been clear on your face, because the man followed himself with a yell. “A YUKI-OTOKO! A MALE YUKI-ONNA! YOU COME ONTO MY MOUNTAIN, NEARLY FREEZE TO DEATH IN A CAVE, I SAVE YOUR ASS AND YOU ACT LIKE YOU’VE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF ME?!”

“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t need winter clothes,” you thought to yourself. “All that anger keeps him warm.”

You *had* heard legends of a Yuki on the mountain, but you’d quickly dismissed them as silly myth. But here you were, standing in front of one. Had it not been for the horns, you could’ve mistaken him for a regular human with an abnormal tolerance for the cold. “So…” you were trying to take in all of the new information, but it was a lot to handle. “You’re not gonna eat me?”

The man’s palm slapped against his face. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, “what rumors are getting spread about me? I don’t eat people! Kill sometimes, but I don’t eat them!”

Hearing that he *sometimes* killed was the tipping point in your brain. Overwhelmed with stimuli and overcome by exhaustion, your vision faded, and you fell forward. 

When you had come to again, you were on the living room couch, wrapped up in the same thick blanket in front of the roaring fire. The Yuki was seated near your feet, a bowl of warm soup in his hands. One was on the small table in front of you, too. 

He noticed before you even thought you moved, as if he could read your mind. “You’re not strong enough yet, and I’m not letting you get soup all over my couch.”

A short pause. 

“I’ll feed you.”

For as angry as he had seemed earlier, the man was surprisingly gentle as he spooned the soup past your lips. Warm and hearty, you knew the ingredients had to be fresh. Maybe he had a winter garden. As he fed you, you got a good chance to really look at the man. The ebony-black horns were interesting, yeah, but… the way his blue curls beautifully framed his face, the sharp cheekbones and jawline, how you were certain you could see a sparkle of frost form on his lips when he blew on your soup to cool it down. Those pretty, plump lips....

A good meal in your belly made you grow sleepy, and before long you were drifting off once again. The man lifted you, still wrapped in your blanket, and carried you to the bedroom. Your sleepy eyes fluttered, looking up at him. 

“Got a name, Yuki?” you asked quietly. 

“Yeah, and it’s not Yuki. It’s Ghiaccio.” 

He set you down gently on the bed, adjusting the blanket so that you were covered completely. And then, Ghiaccio started undressing. 

“Wh… what are you doing?” you asked him, sleep heavy in your voice. 

“Going to bed?” he replied. “It’s my house, this is my bed.” You’d foolishly believed you were staying in a guest room-- though now that you thought about it, Yukis probably didn’t get too many visitors. You mentally debated going back to sleep on the couch, but before you could reach a decision, Ghiaccio had slid in next to you, under the covers. He was cold, more so than just a naturally low body temperature-- but with the thick blanket around you, his skin didn’t feel so bad. 

Oh, his skin. He was naked. 

“Are you always so cold?” you asked. As soon as it left your mouth, you knew it was a dumb question. 

“Yes.” Hmm. Maybe he was less angry when he was tired. 

“Would… would you like me to help warm you up?” 

He was silent for a moment. You could hear your heart beating, so loud you were worried that he could hear it too. 

“You can try.”

Turning, your lips found his in a flash. They were cold, like the rest of his body, but surprisingly soft. In no time your tongues had entwined together in a warm, sloppy makeout. You raked your fingers through his curls, while his chilly fingertips traced down your spine. The temperature difference made you jump, only moving yourself closer to Ghiaccio, your hips brushing against his. You felt him smirk into the kiss; all a part of his plan. Not wanting to be out-teased you tugged his hair back, exposing his neck for a flurry of love-bites. Already you could feel his dick starting to stir, twitching and pressing into your thigh. “Already, Ghiaccio?”

“It’s not like I have too many visitors out here. Especially not ones I wanna fuck.” 

“Oh?” you teased, feigning innocence. “You want to fuck me, Ghiaccio?”

The yuki laughed, a tad bit rougher than his normal tone, before rolling on top of you to pin you down with his body weight. “Do you want me to fuck you, human?” 

Grabbing one of his horns, you tugged him down into a kiss. Parting for just a moment to speak, you whispered to him. “Yes.”

The only light in the room was the moonlight reflected off the mountain’s perfect white snow. It was enough light for you to see by, and right now you were focused on Ghiaccio’s cock. Around 7 or 8 inches, uncut and standing proud. Contrasting his hair, his pubes were snowy white-- you wondered which ones he dyed. Leaning in, Ghiaccio circled your entrance with the tip of his cock, hissing in pleasure at how warm you were. He pulled up, making a few tight circles around your clit before thrusting down and into you, going slow, but working himself in all the way. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning his weight on you. “I feel like I could melt.” You chuckled, giving him a little kiss. “Start slow. You’ll warm up. Or I’ll cool down maybe?” He rolled his eyes at the dumb joke, but not even the dim light could hide the little smile on his lips. Taking your suggestion he moved at what felt like a snail’s pace, inching his dick out of you and then pushing back in, gradually building speed and finding a steady rhythm. 

Ghiaccio felt like heaven. You’d heard of a frozen dildo from some off-the-wall sex magazine, and at the time had written it off as pure nonsense. But here, now, Ghiaccio’s cool cock rubbing against your walls just right, maybe that article had been onto something. You were sure though that Ghiaccio’s cock was a thousand times better than any dildo, and it came with a strong man to hold you and kiss you and, as he was doing now, tease your nipples with his frozen tongue. You couldn’t stop your back from arching into his touch, torn between the knee-jerk reaction of getting away from the cold and wanting more, so much more. 

Slowing down his pace for a moment, he held up a fingertip to you. Wordlessly, you watched as frost gathered on his skin, never quite become a full sheet of ice. Without breaking eye contact, he moved the hand down, between your legs. When the frost met your clit, you screamed in pleasure. Ghiaccio smirked, doubling his pace and bearing down harder on your sensitive nub. It was mind-blowing, you could feel your orgasm building at lightning speed until finally, the pleasure shot through you like a cold rocket. Every nerve was simultaneously fire and ice. Distantly, you could hear Ghiaccio swear, he must be nearing his end. You wrapped your legs around his hips, keeping him locked inside of you. 

His cock twitched as he came, hard. Compared to the rest of his body temperature, his cum burned hot like fire, and you couldn’t get enough. Filled to the brim you could feel a thin line of his cum drip out of you as Ghiaccio rode out the wave of pleasure and slowly pulled out, flopping down next to you, exhausted. Cleanup could wait for the morning, you supposed, you were ready to sleep as well. Closing your eyes and snuggling into Ghiaccio’s comfortable embrace, you thought you might’ve heard a whispered “thank you” just before drifting to sleep.

[sometimeswritingsometimesdying]

The Superheroes Against The Storm- Chap. 1

well, I say chapter one but we’ll see about that

A/N: i’m back after vacation, and I’ll be gone for maybe the next month or so bc I won’t have any internet, so i thought i’d post this now, and make an actual plan for the story later.

Pairings: Eventual Logicality, I write nothing else apparently, and eventual Prinxiety but it’s not in this chapter. Platonic everything else, but we’ll see about that.

Word Count: Who even knows at this point, ‘cause I certainly don’t

Warnings: maybe a lil’ angst, I’m not really sure what classifies as angst anyway, and some sort of sexual jokes, and you can thank Remy for that

Summary: Logan has been noticing weird things popping up on his computers, so he decides to go ask Patton what they may mean. It eventually spirals out of control into a big mess, with some superpowers thrown in.

The day was bright and shining when Logan Wright made his way down the ruined gravel path that lead to the small house with the big backyard- or, well, the entire forest.

Logan hadn’t really meant to wait so long to go back to visit, but work had been consuming all his time, with meetings and the launching of new projects, and he hadn’t had a lot of time to even think of visiting family, let alone friends.

Ironically, here he was, about to knock on the door (with vine growing on it, he noticed) when it was work that brought him here. He observed the dark wooden door, (that had four symbols carved into the center, one for each element; fire, air, water and earth. In fact, it wasn’t unusual for the people of the towns close and far to refer to it as the “House of the Elements”) and took a deep breath, before knocking on it three sharp and clean times.

As he waited patiently for the owner of the house to open the door, he could hear someone stumble, something crash, and multiple exclaims of ‘oh sorry!’ from the other side of it. How comedical, he thought. A rare smile tugged at his lips, as he recounted how careless about his space and clumsy the other had been throughout the years of their friendship.

Eventually (after more crashes and sorrys) the door opened to reveal a frizzled and short man, who admittedly looked like he’d been in a fight with a cat, and from what Logan remembered (and oh, he remembered) this wouldn’t have been his first time.

The man uttered out another apology about taking so long to open the door while he brushed the dust off from his shirt, until he looked up and saw who had been knocking.

“Logan!” The man threw his hands around his unexpected visitor to hug him, nearly knocking his breath out.

“Ah, Patton,” Logan said as soon as he was released. Patton smiled brightly at him. “I see your hugs are still as bone-crushing as usual.”

“It’s the only way to go!” Patton answered, still beaming. “And I see you’ve got your hold on a couple ways of saying?” Logan adjusted his glasses slightly.

“I’ve been practicing.” Patton chuckled slightly before inviting him inside.

---

“So,” Patton said, voice chirpy as always as he put two cups of tea down on the table. “Any reason for the sudden visit?” 

There was a reason indeed, but Logan didn’t want to start that conversation yet. But, then again, there was a heavier question lingering in the air, why did you wait a year? 

He didn’t know, or better he knew, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so he went with his first option.

“Well, you see, I have observed some interesting patterns that the computers have been picking up lately,” Patton’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“And why would you come to me for help?”

“Well,” Logan said while passing a piece of bread to the deer that had entered the house while they had been talking. From where, you ask? Probably the hole in the wall that lead directly to the, ahem, backyard. Saying Patton was in tune with nature was an understatement. Which was the main reason Logan had decided to ask Patton for help instead of the other, much more dramatic option. “This is much more your area of knowledge than mine really.”

“The elements?”

“Your elements, Patton.” The man in question chuckled.

“Alright then, let’s see what you’re talking about.” Logan pushed a little black box onto the table. He pressed a little button on the side of the box and a hologram popped up. Numerous images and videos of plants and animals were displayed on the holographic screen. They didn’t have many things in common, but one thing was persistent in all of them- they were all deformed. Patton bit his lip as he scrolled through the pictures. Sure he didn’t know the animals, but they were technically connected to him, so he still felt pitiful. “They look like something straight out of a radiation plant.” He said, still looking at picture after picture (and silently praising himself for the pun.)

“Indeed, but,” Logan said, clicking the box again. The screen changed to display a bird’s eye view of the city. “They’re not. They’re all from the city, which is highly unusual since it is a low radiation site.” He clicked again, and the screen displayed large circles around certain buildings in the city. “I’ve tracked down the places these pictures were taken in or close to, and they seem to center around these buildings.” He pointed at the state bank and an old warehouse. “And some lower concentration at these points.” He pointed at the museum, an old apartment complex, and the biggest park in the city.

“I see,” Patton said, as Logan clicked the box again to turn it off. “So, what do you want me to do with it?”

Logan looked Patton in the eye. Now or never, he thought. “I- well, I need your help to figure out what is causing these, um, peculiar instances.” Patton offers him a kind smile. “Perhaps we should look into this further back at the laboratories?” Patton gasped and clapped excitedly.

“It’s gonna be just like back in highschool!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say so, those were sleepovers,” Logan said following behind Patton as the latter started running around the house picking up everything he needed. “This is strictly a business trip.”

Patton hummed happily as he threw his clothes into a duffle bag. “Seems the same to me!”

Logan smiled slightly and went to pick up his coat as the other finished packing (If he left anything, he could probably ask a bird or a deer to bring it to him, although he didn’t quite like asking the animals to do things like that for him. They could get hurt!, he’d always say.)

“How are the animals going to respond to you leaving?” Logan asked once both him and Patton were in his car.

“Oh, well, I haven’t left for a while, for, well, a while,” Patton giggled slightly. “But I’m sure they’re gonna be okay, they’re strong enough to make on their own.”

Logan nodded slightly and pulled out of the gravel driveway, with one question on his mind, but what about you? 

However, he remained quiet as Patton hummed along to the radio.

It was late into the night when they finally arrived at the Wright laboratories, and Patton had dozed off long before. Logan was debating whether to wake him up or leave him be when Patton’s eyes fluttered open as he yawned.

“We’re here?” He asked while rubbing his eyes. His big round glasses were askew and his blond curls were a mess. He looked, admittedly, adorable, and maybe Patton held a little truth, because it did sort of feel like high school again.

“Yes, and it looks like Remy is awake.” Logan said, pointing at the only lit window in the building.

Patton blinked tiredly up at the building. “Remy? As in,” a yawn. “Remy Wake?”

Logan opened the door and rounded the car to get Patton’s bag. “As much as it is ironic, it is him.”

“I haven’t heard from him, since, what? College?” Patton said, following Logan inside the building. “I sort of miss our little friend group, you know? We had so many adventures.”

“If you count having to drag Remy away from a party because he’s about to blackout from drinking too much is an adventure, then I guess we did.” Logan answered as he walked into the elevator, a giggling Patton in toe.

“I mean, you have to admit that it was fun to hear him ramble on about every guy we walked by.”

“If by fun you mean terribly embarrassing, then I agree.” Patton laughed again.

“Has his personality changed?” Logan sighed and stepped out of the elevator into his giant office.

“You’ll see for yourself-”

“Finally, babes! You took so long I thought you were already snogging in the car!” The man, the myth, the legend, Remy Wake himself said from his spot on the couch, clad with full sunglasses and starbucks coffee. Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose as he and Patton blushed.

“This is what I meant.” Patton laughed and went over to hug the living daylights out of Remy.

“Ah, Pat, babe, it’s great to see you again!” Patton sat down next to Remy on the couch.

“You too Rem! It’s been so long. But, uh, not to be rude, what are you doing here?” Patton asked. Remy raised an eyebrow as Logan sat down on the chair across from them. He pushed down his glasses and looked at Logan over them.

“You haven’t told him yet?” Logan shook his head. “Ah, well. After you, uh, left,” Patton rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Logan, me and the others finished uni and other companies were already trying to snatch this guy for themselves,” He pointed at the man himself, Logan. “But, since he’s stubborn as fuck,”

“Language!” 

“He decided to make his own company, and me, being the great friend that I am,” Remy gave Logan a pointed look.

“Remy you are possibly the worst worker in this laboratory,” Logan said, matter-of-factly.

“The worst worker with a PhD in physics?” Remy challenged.

“The worst worker that sleeps on the job?” Logan shot back. Patton chuckled and told them to calm down.

“Anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted so rudely,” Logan scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I decided to start working in the company and here we are now!”

Patton looked utterly impressed. “I move away for a couple years and this happens.”

“You know it, hun,” Remy stood up and adjusted his leather jacket. “But I think I’m gonna head out now.” He picked up his bag and coffee, and headed for the elevator. “Have a fun night you two!” He called out. Goddamnit, Remy, Logan thought.

Eventually, they were so tired that they fell asleep on the couch not much later.