#I'm just not the right person to ask if you're looking to branch out

[flowersforbucky]

sucker for you

peter maximoff x reader

word count: 1.2k

i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that

a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first

warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️

Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.

He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.

From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.

And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.

As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.

"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.

Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.

He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.

"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”

Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.

“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.

Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.

“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.

Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.

“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.

“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.

Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.

“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.

He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –

“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.

“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”

“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”

“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”

“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”

Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.

You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.

“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.

His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.

“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”

You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.

“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.

He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.

•••••

thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕

[pineconepie]

This was an ask I got a while back, but either I can't find it or accidentally deleted it. But to the anon who asked for a scenario like this, here you go! :D

TW: Amnesia, parental/platonic yandere, forced infantilization, drugging, implied kidnapping, manipulation

"Help! Please help!" you cry, running as fast as you can throughout the dense forest. Branches and sharp brambles scrape your cheeks and catch onto your clothes.

You stop for a brief moment to pick the twigs out of your disheveled hair. The small cuts sting horribly but it doesn't deter you from pushing onwards.

Sweat beads down your forehead and you wipe at it furiously. Your chest is heaving, desperately trying to take in more oxygen.

"(Y/n)! Stop!" His booming voice echoes throughout the forest.

He's getting closer to you. You have to keep running, keep moving, keep—

Something hits you, something cold and metal. You barely have enough consciousness to realize it was a car, on the dirt road path. Your vision swims, and your head feels ready to burst.

Your ears ring incessantly. All you can hear is that horrible noise, but it doesn't completely drown out him calling for you.

And suddenly there are strong arms around you. "Oh! My baby! What have you done?!" Someone picks you up. They yell to someone else, but their voice is fading out.

Your vision fades to nothing.

...

When you wake up, there's the sound of something beeping. It's a comforting constant rhythm, steady and predictable. You think you know what it is, but your head feels all muddled and foggy.

Something cool and soft presses against your forehead, and you lean into the soothing touch.

"That's right, honey. Nice and easy," a voice speaks above you. Its light, with a subtle hint of an accent you can't recognize. A thumb gently rubs at your temple, massaging it with care and ease. "That must've been a pretty bad fall you took. Don't worry, I've got you."

You open your eyes. Hovering above you, is a man with long messy brown hair, light brown eyes, and a slight stubble of facial hair. He looks to be in his early to mid forties or so.

There's something familiar about him. You should know who this person is... but your brain cannot come up with a name.

"There they are!" the man coos. The corner of his eyes crinkle. He has crow's feet around them. You think those mean someone smiles often. You stare blankly back at him, mind still groggy from what happened earlier. He hums a melody, and gently brushes his fingertips along your arm.

"What..."

"Hush now, don't talk just yet," he murmurs. His other hand is behind your head, propping you up in its palm. "Had quite a nasty fall there. Scared me half to death!"

"Where am I?" You blink, still slightly disoriented.

"Shhh..." He kisses your bandaged forehead. "You're here in the hospital, sweetie. Just got done doing x-rays on your head." The room around you is stark white. There are various machines around you and one is beeping at a constant rhythm. It smells of chemicals and medicine. "I know you hate being scolded, but (Y/n), you know better than to play in the forest so late at night..." He scrubs a hand over his face tiredly.

You squint at him, trying to jog your memory as to who this guy even is. Is he perhaps someone important? Someone you're supposed to know?

As hard as you try, no answers come to mind. And now that you're thinking about it, you really can't remember much at all besides your name and general sense of self.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" you awkwardly ask.

The man freezes. His eyebrows raise up in surprise before furrowing with concern. "Wh—(Y/n), sweetie," he looks at you. "Can you tell me who I am?" You shake your head. He stares at you for a moment, like frozen. Only when you awkwardly look down, does he do too. "The doctors mentioned possible memory loss, but..." He looks so torn; eyebrows twisted up sadly. You almost want to reach out and hug him.

The only thing that stops you is the IV, and the fact you don't know him, despite what he says.

"What's the last thing you remember, baby?" he asks again.

You wrack your brain. "I don't know. I know my name... and that's about it."

A flash of pain shoots through his gaze, though he seems to keep himself collected. "Okay. So, sweetie... I'm your dad." He reaches out to clasp your hands. "My name is Hugo Harrison. You're (Y/n) Harrison."

"You... don't look very much like me..." You realize that might be a rude thing to say. "Sorry, I didn't mean that in a mean way."

Hugo chuckles. "It's okay, there's not a mean bone in your body, kiddo." He pauses, like contemplating his next words extra carefully. "I'm your adoptive dad. Now, we could go into a lot more detail, but let's not strain that noggin of yours for today, hm?" He tenderly touches your wrapped forehead. You must have injured it severely, which explains the splitting headache and memory loss.

"Oh, that makes sense," you murmur. You take in his appearance more. He has a tattoo peaking from below his collar shirt, and looks a bit rugged, with muscular arms that have a few scars. He even has an eyebrow piercing on his left.

Despite that, he seems so... sweet.

"Do you have any photos of us?" you ask. Part of it is genuine curiosity, but mostly just because you don't know what else to say.

His eyes soften, and he pulls out his phone to immediately show you his lock screen.

Sure enough, there the two of you are, smiling at the camera. It doesn't look like it was too long ago. You're both indoors, wearing some kind of brown and periwinkle uniforms.

Noticing your confused expression, he explains, "I own a cafe, sometimes you help out. That's where this photo is from. One of my favorites."

He scrolls through his camera roll and shows another picture of the both of you. In this one, you're sleeping on his lap, his hand covering the side of your face in an apparent attempt to block you from seeing the flash.

You nod mutely, trying to soak it all in. All you know of this man is from these two images.

So far, there's nothing overtly suspicious. Nothing that triggers alarm bells or raises red flags. At this point, you have no reason not to believe him.

So why do you feel so unsettled?

"How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Not good," you mumble, bringing a hand up to your head, cringing from the pain.

He presses a kiss to your hair, holding it for several seconds before pulling away. "Oh, sweetheart..." His voice wavers with emotion. "I'll talk to the doctors again. For now, you rest up, okay?"

With such a splitting headache and sore body, you have no trouble obeying his commands. Your eyes flutter shut, and the last thing you hear is a sigh coming from him, as well as something about wanting to take you home.

...

"Easy," Hugo soothes, letting you lean on him heavily as he walks you to his house. Everything hurts from your body to your head. The medication from earlier wore off halfway to his home.

Speaking of his house, it looks pretty much like a standard home, if not kind of cute, almost reminiscent of a cottage. It's beige with dark brown trimmings. Ivy climbs around the windows.

Flower beds line along the pathway to the front door and a vegetable garden sits near the shed in the back. There's wind chimes hanging near the entrance.

"I wish I could remember any of this," you mutter as he situates you on the couch. "Sorry."

"No, no," he reassures, rubbing your upper arm. "Don't apologize, okay? It's not your fault that this happened."

"What was I doing out in the forest, anyway? You mentioned something about that... is that something I typically do?" you ask.

Hugo looks confused for a moment, then nods. "Ah. Well, it was something you'd usually do, but hopefully that will be the last time. Sometimes you get... impulsive. You do things that are reckless. That's why I'm so protective of you. This isn't the first time you got injured like that." He shakes his head and laughs. "Stubborn kid you are..."

"I see." What else can you say, really? You wish your brain would hurry up and recall something. Right now it just feels blank. All you have to go off of is Hugo. "I know I can't remember, but I'm still sorry. For what I did. Or, uh, do."

His gaze softens even more, looking like the definition of fond. "Like I said, sweetie, you don't need to worry about a thing. It's all in the past now. What matters is that you're here now, safe with me. How about I take you up to your room? You can get a nap in while I make dinner. Sound nice?" He brushes his thumb over your temple.

You wordlessly lean against him. He chuckles and helps you back up, mindful of your injuries, and leads you upstairs.

Again, it looks like a completely normal household. Nothing stands out to you besides perhaps the large number of photographs littering the walls.

Your bedroom has pastel blue wallpaper with stars decorating the top half of the wall.

There's a bunch of stuffed animals lining the bed, as well as pillows with galaxy themed pillows. The carpet is plush and your feet sink slightly in them.

"This was... mine?"

"Yes!" He seems less happy about it when he sees your expression. "Do you not like it? You decorated it yourself..."

"Isn't it kind of, uh, childish? Nothing wrong with that, of course, just doesn't seem like something someone older would want," you lamely explain.

Hugo takes another moment to mull over his words. "Well... you've always been a bit childish for your age, sweetie. I think it's adorable, and you seemed content with this room before... but if you really want to change it up, I don't mind at all." His strained smile tells you that he does, in fact, mind it.

"That's okay. I think I do like it, now that I've seen it longer," you reassure him. Part of it might be because you feel bad. You hobble over to the bed with his assistance, and watch him choose a cutesy beige pajama set. The sleeves are longer than your arms and the pants are covered in sheep patterns. "Do I normally wear that to bed?"

"More like just your typical lounge wear," he answers. "Do you need help, or can I leave you to it?"

"Um, you can leave me to it." You watch him open the door to leave. "Oh, by the way... what do I call you? By your name? Dad? Papa?"

A large smile stretches across his lips. "You call me 'Papa', but really anything works with me. Just want you to feel comfortable, bud. Oh, and dinner'll be ready soon. Tomato, chicken noodle, or cream of mushroom?"

You look down at your lap, where your pajamas lay. "What ever I liked most, I guess."

He hums in affirmation. "Sounds good."

Before long, you've changed and situate yourself on your bed, the stuffed toys huddled around you like a cocoon. Though everything seems fine and cozy, it all feels too new, too strange, for it to feel exactly right. It's supposed to be yours, you know this. And yet, it feels so... foreign.

This should make sense. Logically, it does. But your intuition keeps whispering doubts, despite Hugo giving you nothing but warmth.

...

Two weeks pass, and go by pretty uneventfully. He cares for you like you are a toddler, but he assures you this is how he used to act around you.

Still, your memory seems stubborn in recovering, and each night you pray for the morning to finally reveal a clue as to your past.

So far, nothing has shown up.

And being confined within the house doesn't help, either. Hugo refuses to let you go outside unsupervised, claiming how he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if you wound up in danger again.

And really, who are you to refuse him? You don't have any memories, any other friends (he's told you they've moved away years ago), and you have no money to sustain yourself. He's all you have.

"Where are you going?" you ask one morning, to see him slinging on a jacket. His hair is also tied up, which you've gathered he only does when he's going out somewhere.

"The cafe," he replies, though you can tell something is off by the way he smiles. "There's leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, okay? Stay inside, and I mean it."

"Can't I go with?" you suggest. Maybe seeing the place could bring back some recollections. Plus, sitting alone all day isn't fun at all, especially when there's nothing to distract you with besides watching TV or reading. Neither of those interests you that much, not to mention a majority of the books and shows catered to people less than half your age.

"Not with those injuries," he chuckles, but there's some firmness in his tone.

"I feel fine! My ankle isn't sprained anymore, and my ribs hardly bother me," you counter. Your face isn't bandaged anymore, either. Instead, only faint scars remain.

"Honey, the answer is no."

"I just want to leave the house!" you blurt. His eyebrows raise up at your outburst. "It's boring staying cooped up all day! I don't want to watch cartoons again or read a comic book or play with action figures."

He purses his lips. "But you love doing those things..."

"Yeah, sure. I don't doubt that I like those activities. But maybe sometimes I'd like to do something more, I dunno, mature." It's not that you hate the stuff Hugo's given you, but you aren't mentally ten years old or whatever age he's assuming you are. So reading picture books and playing with kiddie games get dull real fast. "Please? I don't have to do any physical labor, just wanna get outside the house..."

"(Y/n)..."

Maybe it's a tad bit manipulative, but you've found it works pretty well on him. "I just wanna spend time with my papa... if I can't remember old memories, I was hoping we'd have more time to bond..."

Hugo looks torn for a split second, before giving you a gentle grin, reaching out to pinch your cheeks. "Allllriiight," he drawls. "Wear something warm. It's chilly out."

"Why not my uniform?"

"Because I don't want you working, silly."

The drive there is an hour long, and has you wondering how on earth he makes these long treks there and back five times a week.

By the end, you're yawning and leaning against the window. He laughs, shaking you awake, helping you walk inside the cafe.

In the break room, he situates you on the couch. "I'll get you something to snack on soon. Banana bread, blueberry muffin, brownie, or chocolate chip cookie?"

You weakly smile. "What ever was my favorite?"

He snorts. "Gotcha. I'll be back soon. Don't leave this room, 'kay?" He doesn't wait for a response, quickly busying off towards the counter, throwing his apron back on.

When he's out of view, you try to relax, but as time passes on, you get bored with the things he's given you.

A coloring book, a children's storybook, and crayons litter around you. Sure, they're fun for a little while, but then you're back to square one.

You briefly contemplate if this is the reason why you kept running off to the forest often.

If he's been anything like this normally, you can imagine why you've been searching for more fun things to do.

You peak your head from the break room, to see him tending to another customer, making conversation.

"Oh, (Y/n), that you?"

You look to see one of the customers. He's a person about your age, smiling at you like you guys are friends. When you return the look awkwardly, it morphs into confusion.

"Hey, you alright?" he asks, walking closer to you. "Don't tell me you're working. Hugo told me you had a nasty fall, dude."

"Oh, I'm just here while he works," you shrug. "My memory is a bit weird, still. Who are you...?"

He blinks. "Oh. I'm Weston. We're friends. You must have it pretty bad if you can't remember me."

This is all so confusing. Hugo told you that you didn't have any friends... "Oh. Well, I'm just in the break room while Papa works." You cringe at your own wording. Still feels a bit weird, despite having grown more accustomed to calling him that now. "After he's done, we're probably just gonna go home."

Weston frowns. "Your dad? Are you talking about Hugo?" When you nod, he gives a dry laugh. "(Y/n), he's not—"

"What are you doing?" The deep voice startles you both. You turn around to see Hugo staring between the two of you, jaw tensing with some suppressed emotion. He forces a smile at Weston. "Hey, Weston, sorry, they're going through a lot as you can tell. Still in a state of constant confusion. Sorry. Did you want your usual? Croissant and cappuccino?"

He takes a small step back, but is still clearly defensive, like he's waiting for something to happen. "Yeah, no worries, Mr. Harrison. I know they hit their head hard."

Hugo nods. "I'll get started on that in a sec." He drags you back to the break room, almost slamming the door shut behind him. "Kiddo. What did I tell you?"

"I didn't technically leave... I just poked my head to see if you were busy, and that guy... Weston, I think, recognized me..." You realize his breathing sounds labored. "He said he's my friend."

"That kid?" he says incredulously, laughing. It doesn't sound humorous. It's dry and cold. "No, no, no. Sweetheart, I know everyone in this town and he most definitely isn't friends with you. (Y/n), look, you really can't trust your judgment right now." He grips your shoulders. "You gotta understand that you're hurt. Your head's not working correctly. Okay?"

You wish you could let it go, but something else he said makes you anxious. "He sounded like he was about to say you aren't my dad..."

"He's misinformed. Don't let him fill your head with lies. Now, I gotta get back to work."

"But—"

"For the love of God, just shut up, will you?" he snaps. "I barely let you come along! I should've followed my instincts, why do you have to make everything so damn difficult?"

The glint in his eyes scares you. It reminds you of something terrible, even if you can't remember. You flinch so hard you fall off the couch.

As soon as Hugo's anger came, it dissipated when he saw you trembling, backing up. You shield yourself away with your arms, expecting him to explode.

Even though you have no memory in your head, it's like your body remembers, judging by the way you recoil away from him. It's all instinctual. Even when his expression turns from angry to worried, to guilty.

"Oh no..." He kneels beside you. "Oh, I am so sorry, baby. I don't know what came over me. Here, take my hand," he offers. You reluctantly take his calloused, scarred hand. "Shh... I know, Papa can be scary, huh? I shouldn't have yelled like that. It's just that you made me so mad, scaring me like that... he's a bad person. This town is filled with them. That's why I'm so protective of you."

He's always making up excuses.

"I just wanna be left alone," you rasp. "Please."

"Okay. That's fair. If that's what you want." You expect him to fight it, but instead he gets up slowly and leaves after mumbling one final apology. After the door closes, you exhale, burying your face into your hands.

Something about what happened triggers a flashback.

"You just never know when to stop, do you? How many times have I asked you not to hang out with them?"

"Hugo, come on, you can't dictate who I hang out with. I can handle myself just fine. Now please, let me just do my job. People are staring."

"Keep up with this attitude, (Y/n), and we'll have problems."

"If you're going to fire me, might as well do so. I'm close to quitting myself."

You don't remember anything after that.

But whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

The ride home is relatively silent. Not that it's much different from his normal quietness, but it's a different kind of quiet. Deafening. Tense.

All because he lost his cool earlier. Your shoulders hunch as you try to avoid eye contact.

Finally, Hugo speaks. "Still upset?"

"Why do you care?" you mumble.

His fingers tense against the steering wheel, before relaxing. "Of course I care. I care about you more than anyone else." His eyebrows furrow with concern. "Just because I got a bit snappy back there doesn't mean I love you any less. If you weren't so reckless... but even then, I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that." He sighs deeply. "I'm sorry."

Something tells you if you don't forgive him now, he'll give you hell about it later. "It's okay."

That seems to quell his stress immensely, and he breathes out shakily, like a huge weight was taken off him. "Thank you," he murmurs. "We'll do something special tonight, okay? Movie night, maybe a pillow fort?"

"Sure." You're too tired to argue.

...

The next day, he leaves to get groceries, taking another day off work. You take that as an opportunity to snoop around, for the two hours or so he'll be gone.

Maybe something is fishy about Hugo; the way he keeps trying to keep you restrained from leaving the house is suspicious enough. And the lack of communication to the outside world, even before the fall.

No computer, internet access, cell phone... maybe your memories won't have to return for you to discover some clues.

Searching his bedroom provides nothing useful, so you continue towards his desk area.

Opening drawers, there's lots of random papers inside, which you flip through and scan through as carefully as you can.

That's when you realize one of the letters is a letter of resignation... from you, addressed to Hugo. The date isn't too long ago; in fact, it's the day before you remember having the accident.

You read through it, each sentence causing you more and more distress, until the paper is trembling in your grip.

Hugo,

I appreciate everything you've done for me since I first started working with you, but unfortunately our differences are causing more trouble than it's worth.

The incident last week truly opened my eyes. I didn't realize how toxic and controlling you were. You have isolated me from society, refused to allow me freedom, and tried to control who I hang out with and what I do.

You're my boss, but you insist on acting like my father, despite how many times I've told you that is crossing a boundary of mine.

Therefore, I regretfully inform you I will no longer work with you. This will be my two weeks notice. I'm sorry.

(Y/n)

The paper flutters to the ground. You're sweating. Isolating, controlling, manipulative behavior... it fits to a T of what Hugo's been displaying to you since the accident. Except it started long before that.

You glance around the hallway, suddenly feeling like you're in enemy territory rather than your home. But can you even call it that anymore?

All's you know, is you need to get out of here.

Running back downstairs, you begin planning what supplies to bring with you, but movement from outside catches your attention.

Rushing to the window, you see a familiar figure walking up the driveway. Your blood runs cold.

It's Hugo, carrying bags from the grocery store.

You must've lost track of time. You stumble to your room and pretend to be asleep.

Listening carefully to the noises coming from downstairs, he brings in the bags and rustling follows.

Now that you know the truth, every tiny noise causes anxiety. Why is he doing all this? Was this really all an elaborate lie, this entire situation?

And the most chilling part... was he responsible for your accident? Has it ever been an accident in the first place? As these thoughts race in your mind, your ears strain to listen to what he's doing below you.

Footsteps approach the staircase. Your heartbeat quickens and you burrow further underneath the covers. They ascend slowly.

Eventually they're right in front of your bedroom. Then, it sounds like they turn and head towards his room instead. You have to stifle a relieved sigh when he doesn't enter your room.

The relief doesn't last long.

Did you put everything away where you found it? Did you shut the drawers properly, did you cover up your tracks?

A few minutes go by, until there's a knock on the door. "Sweetheart, I'm getting started on dinner. How does mac 'n cheese sound?"

"Sure," you say, so quiet he almost doesn't hear you.

You wait until you hear his footsteps descend, then sneak into his room to make sure you put everything up.

To your relief, it looks like it, so you shuffle back downstairs, trying to put on the best neutral expression you can manage.

The last thing you'd want him to suspect is that you're onto his twisted game.

"There they are! Come sit at the table. Almost ready." He ruffles your hair gently when you take a seat. It takes everything in you not to squirm away from his touch. To keep pretending that you're blissfully oblivious. "How long were you napping for?"

"Not too long." The less you talk, the better.

"That's good." Hugo serves you a bowl full of macaroni and adds a glass of juice next to it, sitting across from you. Something about his demeanor seems different. You're sure that's just the anxiety talking. "Is something wrong, buddy? You're quieter than normal," he notes.

"Just... still kinda tired." You pick at the macaroni, hoping he doesn't press on about this.

"Awww... well, eat up, okay?"

Despite the lack of appetite, you force down the food. Every bite tastes like mush.

But if you don't finish it, you have the sinking feeling he'll know something's up. So, you force everything down, as well as the juice, which washes it down easier.

Within moments, a sudden wave of dizziness washes over you. "H...Hugo..."

Hugo gives a lopsided smile, somewhat apologetic. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't want to do that, but found you messed with some of my stuff. My fault, I've been putting off getting locks for it. I swear, I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on!" He laughs. It borders on hysterical. "All I want is to be your dad... for you to let me care for you." He reaches out, brushing hair from your sweaty forehead. "But no need to worry. I doubt you'll remember any of today, anyway."

"No..." You try to stand, but end up collapsing forward. In the haze, you register being pulled upwards.

"You just can't help but be stubborn," he chastises. "Guess you got it from your old man."

"You aren't..." Your tongue begins to feel heavy, just like the rest of your body. "Not my..."

"Sleep, baby. Sleep. When you wake up, this will all just be a silly nightmare. Papa's got you. He'll always have you."

And despite your desperate attempts to stay awake, sleep eventually claims you, as black engulfs your vision.

The last thing you sense is your head being tucked underneath his chin, and hearing him hum the same melody he hummed in the hospital.

[poisonlove]

You² | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

Wednesday hated Thornhill.

After that encounter in the library, she had done everything to avoid Y/N. Yet, fate seemed to take pleasure in her misfortune: a group activity paired her with the one person who made her feel the most out of place at Nevermore, making her realize just how unlucky she truly was.

After all, she was an Addams; she knew very well that luck was not on their side.

The activity involved collecting the Nightshade Bloom, better known as the Dreamshade Flower. It was an extremely rare plant found only in the Crackstone Forest. She had no idea where in the forest it grew, but she knew it preferred humid spots: probably near the waterfalls or in the Misty Glade.

"Are you sure it's this way?" Y/N asked, looking around with awe.

Wednesday stopped and turned to her partner, an eyebrow raised in disapproval. The question irritated her but when she saw the terror on the girl’s face, she decided to let it go.

"Of course, I'm sure," Wednesday replied in her characteristic monotone voice. She blinked and observed Y/N using her hand like a flashlight to navigate the darkness.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," Y/N justified, her Y/C eyes scanning the surroundings before turning back to Wednesday.

A strange flutter gripped Wednesday's stomach, forcing her to break eye contact. She didn’t like this feeling at all. Experimenting with new emotions, especially ones she didn’t understand, was not her style.

Without saying a word, Wednesday resumed walking, her right hand holding the makeshift torch while her left brushed aside branches that slowed their progress. An unsettling silence enveloped the woods, and Wednesday was oddly grateful for it.

But, of course, Y/N had to break it.

"So... I haven't seen you in the library lately," Y/N began, trying to spark a conversation, a way to distract herself and learn more about the gothic Addams. She had done some research about Wednesday, but her name didn’t appear on any social media, which honestly disappointed her.

Wednesday made a strange sound in her throat.

"I was busy," she replied coldly. It wasn't a lie. She had indeed been occupied writing her story and avoiding the person standing in front of her. She had nothing against Y/N; rather, it was the absence of disdain that bothered her.

"I understand... Enid told me you write a lot... and that you're not exactly a social person" Y/N confessed with a hint of sadness.

Wednesday stopped, noticing how Y/N hesitated to push aside a branch, suddenly halting. Enid? Why were they talking about me? Y/N looked at Wednesday, confusion evident on her face.

"Why were you talking about me?" Wednesday asked, her voice sharp.

Y/N's cheeks flushed.

"Um... I'm participating in the Poe Cup  and she mentioned you... the only member I don't know," she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her tone. The flames in her hand illuminated her Y/C eyes, and Wednesday couldn’t help but think how strikingly attractive she looked in that light.

Quickly, Wednesday averted her gaze and turned away.

Y/N let out a sigh she didn't realize she'd been holding, falling back into step behind Wednesday. Addams pondered Y/N's words, especially the fact that she would be competing in the Poe Cup with them. Honestly, she didn’t want to participate in the tournament again, but the prospect of competing alongside Y/N intrigued her.

"Have you finished reading the book?" Wednesday asked coldly.

She enjoyed the interaction they were having, and a part of her desperately wanted to keep talking to Y/N. Yes, Wednesday Addams, the most antisocial girl at Nevermore, found herself wanting to engage with Y/N.

A huge smile spread across Y/N's face.

"Yes, it was really interesting and helpful for my research," she confessed excitedly, glancing at Wednesday, who observed her from the corner of her eye. The moonlight highlighted Addams' pale skin, and her perfectly arranged braids gave her an air of authority and glamour.

Y/N had developed a small crush on Addams.

"Good," Wednesday murmured in a sharp tone, diverting her gaze from Y/N.

A strange flush crept onto her cheeks, and her heartbeat quickened at the sight of Y/N’s radiant smile. Something was definitely off within her.

She unconsciously rubbed her cheeks.

"Have we arrived?" Y/N asked nervously, her fear growing. She had heard a couple of howls during their trek that made her skin crawl, but seeing Wednesday's calm demeanor made her decide—no, force herself—that everything was under control.

"Yes." Wednesday pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a smile.

It was the third time that night that her lips had inexplicably wanted to stretch into a smile, and each time she held back. She had to maintain her reputation as the gothic weirdo of Nevermore.

The fog enveloped their path, and Wednesday felt relieved to finally reach the Misty Glade. If they were lucky, they might find the damn flower in this area; otherwise, she would have to cross to the other side of Crackstone Forest toward the waterfalls.

Wednesday took off her backpack and pulled a small basket from inside.

"Can you recognize the Nightshade Bloom?" she asked, looking at Y/N. The latter nodded decisively.

Y/N walked opposite Wednesday, scanning the ground for any signs of light, hoping to spot the flower.

Meanwhile, Wednesday delved deeper into the mist, focusing on finding the blooms.

(...)

Wednesday crouched down and carefully picked the flower, trying not to damage its luminescent petals. She placed it in the basket alongside the others and walked toward another damp area. Half an hour had passed since the search began, and Wednesday felt increasingly uncomfortable in the oppressive silence.

Where on earth were you?

"Y/N?" she called loudly.

All she received in response was a howl. What if you were in danger? Wednesday gripped the basket tightly and scanned the surroundings, determined to spot you, abandoning her task of collecting more flowers.

Her feet moved westward as she squinted, trying to extend her field of vision, but the damned fog was too thick. A strange sensation settled in her chest, something that edged on fear. But she wasn't scared; she was... uncomfortable due to your silence?

"Y/N, if this is a joke, it’s not funny!" Wednesday exclaimed loudly, looking around with heightened vigilance. Her heartbeat quickened.

The worst scenarios flashed in her mind, prompting her to quicken her pace.

"Ahhhhh!" you screamed.

Wednesday's eyes widened, and she raced toward the sound of your cry. Something had gone wrong. The brunette increased her running speed, breathing heavily, a strange light contrasting with the darkness of the forest.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly upon arrival.

Y/N was sitting on the ground, an enormous smile plastered across her face as she held the Nightshade Bloom in her hands. Her Y/C eyes met Wednesday's, shining with pure happiness.

"I found my first flower!" she exclaimed, beaming.

Wednesday let out an exasperated sigh, and at that moment, she wanted to strangle Y/N with her bare hands. Had she run for nothing? Was it merely a scream of joy? Her expression softened as she watched you approach, curiosity written all over your face, your eyes sparkling as they scanned her basket.

"What? You’ve already found six?!" Y/N exclaimed in surprise.

Wednesday couldn't help but smile, a spontaneous and genuine smile that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The dimples were evident as her lips curved, making Y/N wonder how something so beautiful could be so rarely seen.

Just like the Nightshade Bloom.

Wednesday felt relieved to see Y/N safe, and despite a part of her wanting to kill her for making her think the worst, another part couldn’t shake the memory of the enthusiasm radiating from her for finding the flower.

She would let this incident slide, simply because it was you.

[queers-gambit]

Shadows of the Past

prompt: the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 5.1k+

note: wonky brain can think of nothing but this show right now i'm so sorry

warnings: cursing, spoilers, another reader insert for the haters, depiction of character injury, emotions are hard, small canon complicit angst, literal hurt and comfort, established relationship.

"Tell me again," your brother-in-law asked, "why you're not leading this company?"

You smirked, stepping over a fallen branch, "Because the High King has bestowed the honor to Herald Elrond, Daenor."

"Then why enlist you, too?"

"I am a mere emissary of the King. Besides, skills are required for this quest, Daenor, why would I not be employed?"

"Right, of course. I guess my question should be, what skills do you possess?" He teased, laughing when you shoved his shoulder playfully. "But truly," he asked, "why would the King send you both, so close to your wedding day? Why send you, too, if not to lead this company?" However, before you could answer, the air turned serious when the procession you followed came to a rather disturbing discovery upon the laid path.

You leaned on the intact stone while listening to Camnir discuss with Elrond possible paths forward after intending to cross a bridge over the gorge, only to find it in ruins and rubble. Elrond originally questioned the force that could've brought the ancient stone down in such a harsh and violent manner, thinking perhaps lightning, but another voice refuted this idea by claiming it was the Dark Lord, Sauron.

This familiar voice was that of Lady Galadriel - and while you've known her to be a fellow Commander, you were unsure of her title now. Yes, she was technically lieutenant of this company, and that was what she was addressed as, but you knew how stubborn the Elleth was and that she would not be so easily demoted.

You said nothing. You just listened as Camnir told Elrond they could take one of two paths: one so out of the way, it would add two weeks to their journey, and the other, down the same darkened path the Dark Lord laid.

Upon mentioning the path before them through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad, Lady Galadriel twitched. She had been daintily ghosting her fingertips over the charred and mangled metal of the lanterns set on the imploded bridge, seemingly stuck in thought, then freezing. You couldn't see her face, only taking note of the brisk tension mounting in the Elleth's shoulders.

She spoke, "There is evil in those hills." The group shared silent looks, each with varying degrees of mistrust or caution. "Ancient, and full with malice," Galadriel glared at the landscape before her. "Sauron means for us to go that way. We must go another," She informed the group as if she were in a position to give orders.

From the crouch he took to observe the damage done to the stone, Elrond rose while speaking in a firm tone that overpowered the Lady's, "The Enemy is doubtless watching both roads." His eyes flickered over yours last as jetting over each of his soldiers, clocking the way you nodded in agreement. To you, it seemed common sense: of course, the bad guy was watching the paths that would lead the good guys to him! He was evil, not stupid! Elrond reminded his people, "This collapse makes it more critical than ever to reach Celebrimbor at speed."

"We won't reach anywhere with speed if we walk into a trap," Galadriel argued; the two friends (and distant cousins) held each other's even stare for several moments.

"What say you, Commander?" You asked, hoping to break the tension and little trance they were locked in. No, no, not out of jealousy, but out of protectiveness; wanting to break the ice for the sake of Elrond's authority.

"We go South," Elrond decided, turning from the fragmented bridge stump, ready to lead his company on, when Galadriel spoke again - from the same spot she had yet to move from.

"Commander, I must protest."

You did not move when the others did, you waited when Elrond paused and replied, "Your opinion on the matter has been heard."

He went to walk away again when Galadriel growled with a rolling tongue, "Elrond!"

You flinched to a halt in blinding irritation, upset by your peer's very audacity. Everyone halted around you, Camnir even shifting in his stance out of nervousness from the heat of your glare not on him. Your fiancé turned back to glare at his friend, ending with finality, "Opinion heard, lieutenant. We go South." He gave an encouraging command in Sindarin, leading only a few strides before pausing. When you automatically halted yourself at his side, he nodded and spoke softly while seemingly mindlessly grabbing your hand to give an affectionate and reassuring squeeze, "Lead them on, love, stay on the trail."

You glanced back at Galadriel, who was finally moving to keep up, and whispered for only his ears, "You sure?"

"I'm sure, go on," he confirmed, nodding again and offering a soft sort of half-smirk. His eyes, though, were squinted; indicating he was genuine in his displayed gentleness. With a squeeze to his hand, you offered one last stale look at Galadriel, who expertly avoided your eyes, then let go and walked forward to lead the way.

Behind you, Elrond snarled his scolding of Galadriel, insisting she shape up, forgo trust in the Ring of Power she wore, and if that wasn't possible, she needed to excuse herself. The Commander of the Northern Armies rebutdtaled that she did not desire to see any member of the company slain - a veiled response to her stubbornness to not abandon their quest and refusal to ignore her ring.

Forward, you marched.

Though you seldom showed it, you felt fearfully nervous when the night fell and your company crept further into what felt like infected wood. The ground turned spongey, a particular stench permeated the air, the darkness shadowed most all you saw. The trees loomed tall, the moon casted a bright silver light, and dead leaves crunched under booted, lithe steps. Elrond shared a nervous look with you, his hand only briefly brushing yours; a way to say he was there with you without being overly affectionate in front of his soldiers.

From the corner of his eye, Elrond saw your head tilt back in wonder before a fell voice hissed on the wind, "I am waiting for you." But in truth, nobody was sure about what they heard or did not hear. Perhaps they did not want to know, but still, the voice made the area further darken in suspicion, and once in a small clearing, all came to a halt to survey the surrounding area. There was a threat somewhere, but where exactly was yet to be determined.

Daenor questioned sharply, "What is this place?"

"Tyrn Gorthad," Camnir answered. "Known to men as the Barrow-downs."

You chimed in softly, "In ancient days, this was where they laid their lords and kings to rest."

"I feel no rest here," Daenor grumbled. "Even the trees seem ill at ease."

"Fear not," Vorohil chimed in, sounding amused while stepping up to (and through) your group's observation deck. "Dead men are no threat."

"Well, we've lived very different lives," you scoffed under your breath.

However, after Vorohil, Elrond followed; casting a look at the lot of you and reminding, "Keep moving."

You let the others pass ahead of you, trying to shake off your nerves and mentally prepare yourself for the hell you were walking into. Something anchored your feet, refusing to let go; every nerve in your body on fire and begging you not to wade into the dark. Your name was spoken gently, Galadriel's hand on your shoulder startling you.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"We shouldn't be here," you whispered, Elrond doubling back when he noted your delay. Not wanting a confrontation, Galadriel sighed and patted your shoulder before slipping away as your lover approached you.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly but urgently.

"There's something sinister here," you told him stiffly, stepping half a step closer, "watching us."

He took a breath, "If Galadriel's ring - "

"It's not that!" You insisted. "I feel it, Elrond, not the ring, not anything Galadriel said. I feel it."

Elrond's brows furrowed at the tips, like something hooked them to yank towards his nose. "Then stay close to me," he decided.

"We should move on, quickly," you snatched his hand to prevent him from parting; his gaze turning worried. "Please, listen to me."

"My love," he spoke softly, squeezing your hand, "it is a gravesite, nothing more. The dead cannot harm us."

"It is the living's influence I fear."

He sighed and nodded, "We will not linger." His forehead found yours to rest, "But do not stray from my side, it is of great comfort."

"To us both," you agreed, letting him pull back. Yet he did not relinquish hold of your hand, keeping it tight in his and leading you into the clearing the others were surveying.

"Commanders," Rían called, standing over the corpses of two horses... Attacked seemingly a time ago, and upon inspection, discovered the pairing bodily remains of an Elvish party.

Elrond questioned your name when you squatted, brushing aside debris. "Their barding is from Lindon," you told him, gently ghosting the leather with your touch. You looked up to meet his eyes, glancing over to see Galadriel, predicting, "The King sent a dispatch to warn Celebrimbor."

Galadriel nodded in confirmation as Rían discovered the encased message from the King in a decorative tube, asking, "This dispatch?"

Slowly, you stood from your position and held a silent hand out, being given the tube for inspection; all eyes on you, waiting for whatever your overly keen (even for an Elf) eyes would see. After confirming the contents, your eyes locked with Galadriel's, and she spoke what you both were thinking: "We must go from this place."

Elrond appeared ready to agree, tension mounting as your company seemingly felt the blanket of panic being thrown over them all. From the dark, a set of rotting chains shot out to coil around Daemor, yanking him into the toxic, spongey earth and across the clearing.

"Y/N!" He shouted in shock, and without thinking, your hands slapped into his as if in an effort to anchor him... But you were both yanked off your feet. "Commander!"

"Daenor! NO!"

"Help me! Y/N, Y/N, please!"

"Hold onto me!" You begged, being drug on your belly.

"Sister! Sister, please, help me! Help me!" He sobbed in fear, a vice grip on your wrists and hands surely to leave blemishes. "Don't let go! Pl-eeeeeaaaaaase!"

"Daenor!" You whimpered, struggling as the force that held you both hostage was too strong to maintain a safe, secure hold permanently - meaning, saving him was futile.

Your name was bellowed, being drug towards one of the opened tombs; but at the last moment, the tether that kept you and Daenor together was broken and he was pulled into the abyss of the grave. You whimpered in fear, slowly lifting from your belly and to your knees as Daenor's screams were silenced... In fact, the entire area turned eerily quiet.

Behind you, the others rushed to the scene and Elrond immediately dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around you. "Are you hurt? Hey, hey, look at me, are you hurt?" He demanded, fearful that the chains might shoot out again to finish the job to swallow you in the dark. He checked for any physical injury, but the tension was too great to ignore; the mouth of the tomb glaring at you, forcing Elrond to silence himself.

You flinched back into his hold when the gruesome sounds of crunching bone and squelching flesh was heard; indicating whatever was inside, whatever claimed Daenor, had disposed of his living body.

Elrond took advantage of your flinch to rock you back onto your feet, standing as a group as a voice hissed, "Cold old be hand and heart and bone, And cold be sleep under stone, Never more to wake on stony bed, Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead." Galadriel brandished her sword as the wights first emerged, revealing their zombified forms. You encouraged the group to form together in a circle as the demons emerged. The Voice continued, "In the black wind, the stars shall die."

"Prepare yourselves," Galadriel warned, the group arming themselves.

"What are they?" Rían trembled.

From perfectly between Galadriel and Elrond, you answered, "They are those who laid in the tombs, the Lords and Kings of old... Lore calls them Barrow-wights."

The creatures surrounded your company, leering, growling, sizing you up. In Sindarin, Elrond commanded, "Attack!"

In tandem, the group lunged; weapons striking the ghoulish foes but they merely disintegrated in air... Then reformed. It seemed that fighting only served to irritate the enemies, their collective hissing and screeching making stomachs curl and skin to prickle in fear. Galadriel clocked this first, warning Rían, "Still your arrow!"

But the Elleth was already locked and loaded, the string slipping from her grip to fire at a distant wight. But it only soared through the zombie's face, not stopping, directing towards Camnir - but Elrond intercepted, swiping his sword to cut its path and save his soldier. The creature rejuvenated.

"They're impervious to our weapons," Camnir voiced, fear inking his tone.

Elrond's eyes found yours, seemingly connected by a string of similar thought; remembering the old wives tales you once read a lifetime ago, ancient lore about Barrow-wights dating back to the time of Melkor. So, he sheathed his sword and told his soldiers, "Hold fast." To Camnir, the closest to him, he demanded, "Come with me!"

"Where are you going?"

"Help me open it," Elrond told him, trying to pry open the sealed tomb as you swiped at another wight's skeletal hand reaching for you.

"What?"

"Hurry!" Elrond barked in Sandarin.

Back in your group, Rían muttered nervously, "Commander?"

"Ease yourself, remain calm..."

"What do we do?"

"Make no sudden movements. Stay together, fend them off but don't engage a fight," you advised, "hold strong - "

A gasp cut off your words when chains coiled around your ankle; securing in a tight zip that knocked you off balance and back into the toxic dirt. You scrambled for purchase on anything, finding only wet leaves; and suddenly, the chain turned taunt with tension before you were being sucked back into another tomb.

"Commander!" Vorohil shouted, trying to reach for you, but just missing as you were reeled back over the dirt.

"Y/N!" Rían cried, alerting Elrond and Camnir of your situation. You whimpered in fear, sobbing as you couldn't fight the force; couldn't save yourself; only able to helplessly submit to your approaching doom after clawing unsuccessfully for salvation.

"No! No!" You yelped, trying to remove the chains, but another tightened around the first chain in a horribly tight, vice grip that strangled breath from your lungs from the pure burning sting. With the last of your air, you screamed, "Elrond! Please!"

You heard Vorohil sprinting after you, freezing in your escape attempt when a grisly, decayed hand extended from the ebony shadow of the tomb towards you. There was a panicked finality to your blood, fear clogging rational thought; never seeing Elrond, only focused on the threat pulling you in. But the half-Elf you meant to marry in only a few weeks time came surging onto the scene, sliding on his knees at the mouth of the tomb and swinging a sword to sever both hand and chains.

"Y/N - "

"Fuck's sake!" You snarled, unintentionally cutting Elrond off; shoving the chains from your leg, scrambling to your feet.

You were just about to thank Elrond when he instead encouraged, "Here, take this." He held out one of the ancient weapons excavated from the tomb, nodding with increased vigor before turning away when it was in your grip. You hacked and stabbed the wight that came after you, Elrond and Camnir tossing the rest of the company weapons to cast down the surrounding enemies.

"How?" Rían asked in shock, seeing the wisps of the last wights waft into the wind.

"According to lore, only the blades with which they were buried with will return such creatures to rest," Elrond explained.

"But the men buried here have been entombed for over a thousand years," Camnir trembled, turning to his companion.

Vorohil seethed, "I think it is safe to say that something has awoken them."

"No," Galadriel argued, glaring down at the wight's decaying body. "Someone... Awakening evil. Across all Middle-earth."

You ignored the conversation and slowly took a seat; leaving your weapon in the dirt while focusing on hiking up your trouser leg after discarding your boot. With a clenched jaw, you revealed the wight's chains left sizzling lacerations; the metal seemingly enchanted to burn damn near to the bone, creating craters, indentations, dimples to your otherwise pure and unblemished flesh.

You winced when fabric stuck to the wound, bearing your teeth while hissing through them; breathing turning staggered as the pain became biting. "Commander?" You heard Camnir question softly with concern, others turning to set their attention on you.

"It's nothing," you insisted, observing the wound and deciding a tourniquet was required.

"You're hurt," Elrond growled, surging forward and unintentionally knocking Galadriel's shoulder - but the Elleth didn't take offense. The others wanted to close in around you, but Galadriel held them back after witnessing you before. As Commander of the Southern Armies, you had seen many battles with Galadriel, and sometimes, you sustained injury; she's witnessed how you turned akin to a panicked animal when accosted with attention - no matter how genuine the concern.

"It's nothing," you repeated, reaching for one of your belts, "I'm fine."

"You're not - "

"It's a burn, Elrond, nothing more," you sniffled, feeling how far up the chain had gone; deciding to tie the tourniquet above your knee.

"Let me," Elrond whispered, laying his hands over yours that shook and trembled without abandon.

"Elrond - "

"Just," he snipped, needing to pause and take a breath, "please, let me help you."

Behind him, Galadriel ushered the others away to a short distance; deciding to gather whatever belongings of Daenor they could to honor his lost life. You met Elrond's worried gaze and nodded, sniffling, "Okay. J-Just above the knee, here," you showed him.

"I know, love, I've got yah," he breathed, shuffling closer and kneeling beside you while taking the belt. You pulled the material of your trousers straight, grimacing when Elrond first wrapped the leather around your thigh. "All right?" He checked, seeing you nod rapidly; no words used because you were holding your breath to prevent yourself from crying out. When Elrond first tied the leather, you whimpered and his eyes turned teary. "It's gonna get worse, love, just hang on f'me - " He warned you before suddenly tightening the tourniquet, making you yelp painfully. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it hurts, I know, I know, I'm so sorry," he repeated, your hands latching onto his forearms out of subconscious need to feel him for comfort while he secured the leather belt. When done, he reached for your cheeks and pet hair that escaped your braids behind your ears, encouraging, "Breathe for me, just breathe, love. You're all right, there you go. Breathe. Good, good, I've got you, I'm so sorry, just breathe, just breathe... Oh, I, uh..."

"What's wrong?" You worried when he trailed off; eyes full of tears and his mouth half opening while retracting his hands that you held by his wrists still.

"I've blood on my hands..." He splayed them in display between you two.

"It's okay - "

"Got it on your face," he frowned.

"It's fine," you insisted, sniffling sadly, "it's my blood, anyway. We should be moving - "

"You're hurt."

"I know, but it's not life threatening, I don't need coddled."

"I'm not coddling you - "

"You are," you half smirked, "because you're worried."

"Of course, I am," he scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe your cheeks and temples free of blood. "How can I not be? You..." His voice quaked with emotion, "You are my starlight, my fairest friend, my sweetest love. Seeing you hurt..."

"I know," you whispered, bringing him close so your foreheads met, "but I'm okay."

"For now."

You sighed, pulling back to respond, "Don't say that, don't even think it. Optimism is our only friend in this situation, else, what is the point of going after Sauron?"

He needed to take a breath, sniffling his own emotion. "Fine. We should rest until morning... Regroup, give you time off this leg for now."

You nodded, "You sure?"

"I think we could all use the reprieve," he admitted.

"Does that include you?" You asked while caressing the coils of chestnut off his forehead.

"I'm fine - "

"As I am?"

Elrond paused, then scoffed a small laugh and nodded. "I'm managing..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Hey," you whispered, bringing him back to your forehead, "you're doing an excellent job of leading this company. But we all have limits and tonight was a lot, you deserve the time to breathe."

"Time is something we don't have."

"We have enough for now," you insisted, more or less forcing Elrond to relent.

As Daenor's belongings were pulled from the tomb and buried in the scorched earth his killers had rose from, the company each offered you hollowed words of condolences for your loss. Beside Elrond, it was known, you and your brother-in-law were great friends - being the reason he met and eventually married your sister. His sword was embedded in the ground as a marker, the company gathered to silently pay their respects while their commander stood at the riverbed's edge in deep, solemn contemplation.

You held one of his daggers, intending to keep it in reminder; pocketing a few pieces of jewelry, intending to give it to his wife. However, all was interrupted when from a distance, you heard the booming rumble of drums. Not just any drums, but the beating sounds of a marching procession; something ominous and daunting. You perked up, standing to your feet as something dark and familiar started in your chest before sinking to your gut. By looks of your company, they, too, heard the drums and shared your worried thoughts; sheathing Daenor's dagger to your belt and surging for where Elrond stood speaking to Galadriel.

"Forgive my intrusion," you bid the pair, Elrond turning instantly.

"Are you all right?" His hand reached for your hip instantly, trying to help stabilize you - if you had been off balance.

Your hand laid to his cheek, answering swiftly, "I'm fine," before dropping your hand to rest on his bicep, "but we've heard drums - in the deep. Sounds like there's a host on the march."

This sent the company into action, tracking the sound of the enemy over leagues of wooded area. By the end of the day, at dusk, you all gathered slowly on a darkened clifftop; watching in horror as legions of orcs marched down the beaten path to the sounds of their war drums. "Orc treachery," Rían cursed upon sight.

"That trail...?" Elrond questioned, letting go of his secure hold on you to lower in a squat, "I gather it leads to - "

"Eregion, my liege," Camnir confirmed.

"We came in search of Sauron," Vorohil narrated everyone's thought and question, "And instead, we find Adar?"

"Could they be in league with each other or... Perhaps at war," Elrond thought aloud, you shifting on your bad leg for a moment to readjust your stance among the trees.

"A legion of Orcs have marched into Elvish lands," Galadriel spat in anger, glaring at Elrond. "We are all of us at war."

Elrond agreed, "Word of this must reach the High King before our host sails for Mordor."

The silence was calm in a resolute sort of way, everyone just pausing to bask in their shock and awe. This was shattered when a distant Orc shouted, "There!" An arrow thunked into the trunk of the tree behind you, a horse neighing shrilly as it galloped through the forrest towards freedom and away from its pursuers. Just as the company turned to face the enemy, another arrow flew through the air almost inconspicuously, finding its mark in the soft part of your chest just beneath your sternum.

You grunted when the arrow landed, taking half a step back and wanting to cry out. Instead, you just held where the arrow embedded itself in your flesh. You felt dizzy suddenly, clothes and hand saturating with blood as the arrow had pierced through the aorta artery to cause major damage. Irreparable damage. Fatal damage...

In a whisper, Elrond told his soldiers in Sindarin, "Hold!"

In the distance, the Orcs were heard complaining about the horse escaping while a few random arrows were fired off again in a last ditch effort to wound the animal. If you did not move, the mangey creatures did not notice, smell, or sense you. But you couldn't form a full coherent thought, just understanding your injury, the looming grace of Death soon to kiss you, that breath was becoming increasingly harder to come by, and the pain - the pain was aching, soon spiking.

You did not mean to, but your fear was too great to ignore, and you stuttered in a whimpered gasp, "El-Elrond?"

His head snapped over, seeing the arrow protruding from your chest and feeling himself crumble inside. You were choking on blood, trying to remain silent - and they all saw that effort. How blood came splattering from your nose as you tried to subdue your noise, but that only made it harder to breathe; inadvertently choking, a groan strangled from your lungs just as Elrond reached you. He held you to him with his chest and single arm anchoring your waist, the other lifting to lay his hand over your mouth as Galadriel glued to your other side for added support.

The company moved back several yards, covering ground swiftly before laying you down behind a natural outcropping of protective rock. You were struggling, unable to fight it any longer; hacking a cough, blood spewing, splattering, streaking down your neck, the pain insurmountable. Elrond's one hand cushioned under your head, tears in his eyes as he could only hold you as the Orcs were heard closing in, other hand once more clasping over your mouth.

Still, Galadriel was sandwiching you, wincing when Elrond's hand stifled your groans of pain as he strained himself to peak over the top of the rocks. When he lowered himself, your lover leaned his forehead on your temple and hushed in your ear, "I'm so sorry." Upon lifting, he met Galadriel's eyes, who had been examining your wound, only to find her's full of sadness. Her head shook with muted words - telling him whatever she saw wasn't good.

You whimpered lightly. The Orcs could smell an Elf.

You wrangled Elrond's hand from your mouth, "Lis-Listen to me - "

"Hush, do not - "

"Shut up and listen!" You hissed, keeping hold of his hand, "'M not makin' it outta this, love, you've gotta go. L-Leave me - "

"No!"

"Elrond. Leave me," you insisted, "and they'll k-know 's m-me they smell. Y-You have t'warn the H-High King."

"I'm not leaving you," Elrond grit.

You smiled sadly, "And I love y-you for that. B-But you h-have t-t-to."

"Not in this lifetime," he begged, a few tears falling. "Just give me time to think, I'll figure something out."

"Time... Is something we don't have," you repeated his words from earlier. Suddenly, Galadriel just knew something without words; a feeling; a sort of understanding that she could help in this moment. She heard you whisper, "I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. W-We should've had so much more time - "

"Please, don't say that," Elrond begged quietly.

Galadriel took a sobering breath and moved her hands to the base of the arrow; pressing enough to make you wince and breath in sharply. Elrond went to tell her to back off, but paused when The Ring of Power she wore twinkled in the dark night - seemingly pulling you out of that fatal twilight. Your breathing turned slow... Eyes clearing of hazy pain... Life breathing back into your flesh...

The arrow fell out, making all three of you gasp. Galadriel's hands fell away as your own shot to where your wound had been - finding it healed between the fabric the arrow tore. You looked at the Elleth in shock, breathing, "You healed me...?"

She just nodded, Vorohil speaking in astonished Sindarin, "Amazing."

"You're - You're, you are - ?" Elrond stuttered in shock.

"I'm okay," you confirmed, caressing his cheek as he beamed down at you in pure glee. "I'm okay, love, I'm okay; Galadriel, she healed me," you sniffled, looking to your friend. "Thank you, my friend."

"Of course," she breathed, the Orcs heard shouting in the distance to overturn every rock. With a look of shared understanding, Galadriel told Elrond over your body while you tried to mop up some blood, "Get to Lindon. I will occupy them as long as I am able. Get her up."

Elrond huffed through his nose, but did as bid - not like he needed to even be told in the first place. He gathered you into himself and stood, making sure you were stable before looking back at Galadriel; slowly squatting again as she wriggled the ring from her finger. "Take it," she breathed, presenting Elrond with the band of jewelry. When he made no move, she snatched his hand and folded the ring into his grasp, "Take it, Elrond!"

"What will you do?" He asked begrudgingly, storing the ring in a leather pouch for safety.

"Something foolish, probably," she smirked, nodding in meaning. "Now, go. Go!"

"Elrond, love," you whispered, holding your hand out for his and heaving him to his feet. "With me, c'mon, quickly," you advised the others, beginning the trek down a new path in the woods. As you moved, you realized that Galadriel's ring hadn't just healed the arrow wound, but the Barrow-wight's chain, as well, which helps remedy your limp.

A semi-safe distance away, there came a decently loud and abrupt boom behind you, and upon looking, saw the trees up in flames. It was where Galadriel must've been battling the Orcs alone.

In earnest impression, Camnir narrated, "She scarified herself to save us all."

Elrond came to a halt when he realized his company members were captivated by the sight of heroics in action. So he interrupted their dreamy thoughts by calling, "No, you are mistaken, Camnir." He stalked forward through his delegates, telling them in their native tongue, "She did not do it to save us."

Tension simmered over each member.

"What?" Camnir questioned.

Elrond turned away from the spectacle with Galadriel's fire, consulting the dark again, speaking with ramped distain in Sandarin, "She did it to save the ring." His hand reached for yours again, the two of you leading the company forward with him calling over his shoulder in the Common Tongue, "Hurry!"

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[mischievousmoony]

hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day

- 🪷

is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.

You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.

McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.

"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"

"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.

"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.

With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.

"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.

James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.

You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.

"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"

"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.

You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.

This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.

So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.

You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.

"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.

James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."

You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.

"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.

"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.

James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.

His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.

Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.

His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.

Your head tilts curiously.

"We have plans later," James verbalizes.

"We do?"

“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”

Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.

“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.

You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand new album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.

The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.

You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.

"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.

James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.

His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."

Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.

The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.

James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.

"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."

Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.

"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.

James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"

You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.

In the middle of your explanation—

"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.

If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.

"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.

"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.

James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.

"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.

Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"

"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."

James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.

"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.

At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."

"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"

"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.

"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.

Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.

"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"

You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.

"James," you call gently.

"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"

"James," you try again, more firmly.

"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"

You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.

James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.

"Yeah?"

"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.

James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.

"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.

"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."

This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."

James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.

"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."

You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.

"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."

In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.

"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."

You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.

He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.5k / 20 / post-apocalypse au, part 1

...

You're injured but moving as fast as you can with your bow slung over your back. Soap is close behind you, giving chase, shouting your name as he does. Doesn't he learn? Doesn't he know you'll pull your bow on him again if he corners you?

He must know, but he's too stubborn to give up the chase. You don’t understand it.

He pushes on, just as graceful and twice as effective as you. You slip through the thick trees and their branches trailing whips of brambles. He shoves past them. You’re injured. He’s not. He's gaining, boots heavy in the soil.

"Watch yourself--!"

Your boot lands on leaf litter that falls out from under you--a pit trap. You’re moving barely fast enough for your momentum to save you from falling in. Your waist hits the edge of the pit. You brace yourself by your elbows, fingers digging into the dirt. The soft underside of your arms drag against something sharp underneath.

Soap grabs you by your coat and pulls you up out of the trap and to your feet before you can scramble out yourself. You're neither surprised nor mollified by his careful handling of you.

"Let me go!"

"Na. You're hurt. Stay still."

"Soap, I swear to God--"

"Shut up. I'm taking a look."

He holds your arm firmly with one large hand and, with the other, pulls your sleeve away from the bleeding gash. You grab his wrist with a pained curse. Whatever caught your arms—the rough wood and metal at the trap's edge—tore you bloody. Soap glares at the gash and then at you. He's close.

You could reach for your bow or for the dagger on your hip. But you know for a fact he's armed. With guns. A sniper rifle on his back and two sidearms at his belt. He knows how to use them, too. If you fight, he wins. But you know better than to back down quickly. The world is crueler than it used to be ever since things went to shit. People who show weakness don’t survive.

"Why are you following me?" you growl, your grip on his wrist tightening.

His grip on you loosens in turn when you speak. "You know why. I'm lookin' out for ya."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Aye, but you still needed it."

"You're not a soldier anymore, Soap," you retort, trying to pull your wrist away. "It's every person for themselves. Stop following me."

"That's no way to live. The world may be a shithole, but there are still folk around who'll lend you a hand even though they don't need to. Soldier or no'."

You can't get out of his grip when he's determined to keep you there, and he is. As much as you'd like to give him a matching wound for being so goddamn stubborn, the rational part of your brain--the part that makes sure you survive--knows better than to expend energy struggling when it's not strictly necessary.

"Nobody lends a hand unless they want something in return," you mutter, glaring down at your wound as he bandages it. "Even if they're pretending otherwise."

He knows you speak from experience. You're a woman, and that means you're nothing but a resource to the worst of whoever’s left. He can't blame you for being guarded. Then again, you wouldn't be making such heated statements to his face if you really thought he intended to hurt you. You're just... defensive. Hiding under all that anger. That's what he tells himself. So he ignores your grumbled protests.

"That's how you'd look at it," he finally replies as he finishes dressing the wound. "Seein' as you've not met the right people. But some of us don't expect anything back."

"You don't expect it because you think you're better than asking. But you still want it."

"Might be so." His voice is soft, gravelly, but you can hear the steel in it. "But am not asking, now am I? So stop your fussin'. You're safe. Nae need to worry." He releases your bandaged arm.

"You run your hand along the wrapping, checking it. "Fine. But I'm... I'm not coming back with you."

"Can't promise you'll be safe out there. Where do ye plan to go?"

"I don't know. Wouldn't tell you if I did."

"Aye." He rubs his jaw, examining you with flint in his blue eyes. Pressing you for an answer would be pointless. Not that you seem to be lying—but you're not telling the whole truth. The short history you share with him is just enough that he can tell. But he also knows trying to change your mind would be pointless. If you won't listen, he'd have better luck bashing his head against one of these huge, mutated oaks.

"Am nae stoppin' ya. But these woods are full of treacherous paths. If ye run into trouble—when ye run into trouble--my boys and I, we know these woods well enough to dust you off and send you in the right direction. Cannae promise to find you before somethin’ else does, though."

You're fairly sure he's not lying. His boys, as he calls them—his old squad, you think—they've made their home in these woods. It's perilous living—bears, wolves, muties, and terrain just as hazardous as the wildlife. And still those men are the most dangerous things in here.

The offer is tempting. You consider it for longer than you should, looking down at your bandaged arm again. But then you step back, shaking your head slowly. "No, thanks. I have to get going."

It tears him up inside. You're making the wrong choice. If he lets you walk away, he's letting you walk to your death.

He looks at you for a moment. You can tell he's got something more to say. But he changes his mind, stepping back as well. He pulls something from his belt and holds it out. A handgun, scuffed and black, grip held toward you. You stare at it for a second before looking back up at him. He's serious?

"I'm not gonna take that--"

"You're damn well gonna take it." His voice is low and insistent. "You think I don't know you'll run into trouble out here? Don't be a fool. I have spare. Take it."

Your one rule is don't owe anybody anything. How the fuck are you about to owe this man twice?

Fine. Whatever. It's not like you have to use it. Could just barter it. Not like you’re going to see him again. You take the gun, biting back a retort.

He nods his approval. The steely look in his eyes softens, though he still looks dismayed. "Mind where you point that. And when you pull it. Biters'll hear it for a mile and come running. Survivors, too. The curious ones." He glances at your bandaged arm one more time. Then he adjusts the bag over his shoulder and turns his back, walking away from you. Back to camp. "Am expectin' you to keep yourself alive with that," he growls. "Or else it's a lot of good time and material I wasted on ya."

"I didn't ask you to waste your breath," you retort, practically snarling at his retreating back in your irritation. You watch him go until he's disappeared into the trees. You need to make sure he doesn't plan on doubling back and following you.

Then you set off on your own. You take a winding path to throw off any trackers. Never can be too cautious. The gun in your pocket is heavy against your thigh, and you try not to think of it as a comforting security.

You came here to get Roach back, and you don’t care how long you have to wander this Godforsaken forest. You’re not leaving without him.

…

Soap feels your eyes on him until you disappear.

He wants to divorce himself from this, but he’s on edge. People who strike out on their own here come to a nasty end. But he’s not going to take away your agency by deciding what's best for you. You were right about him not being a soldier, after all. He doesn’t have the authority to herd you back to his squad’s campsite. Your life is in your own hands.

He just hopes you live to do better than he believes you will.

That night, he sleeps restlessly. Which is why, when he hears a cluster of gunshots in the distance, he wakes up instantly. It's you. In trouble.

The night watch—Gaz tonight—is already there, tossing Soap's gun to him. "You were right," Gaz says.

"Course I was," Soap says with a lopsided grin. "Owe me a ten-piece in the next poker game, aye?"

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[wheresarizona]

Spring Breaks Loose

summary: It's a beautiful Spring day, and you're spending it with Javier and your two pet calves, Daphne and Velma. To keep your husband on his toes, you ask him some very random questions.

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

rating: T (No y/n, Husband Javier Peña, Soft Javier Peña, mild language, oral sex mention (f + m receiving), domestic fluff, slice of life, pregnancy, waxing poetic about cheese, romantic comedy, Javier referring to you, Daphne, and Velma as ‘his girls’)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: Hello there! To celebrate Learning to Live's third birthday (insane), I wrote something that has art! Thank you to all of those still reading this labor of my love. It means a lot to me that you've stuck with me this long. This story will always have a special place in my heart, and I'm so happy to share it with others. ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you!

Art by the incredible @kenobiwanx! (Thank you, it's perfect!)

(Note: Cielito is a reader-insert character and written without physical attributes, so you can picture her however you want. Cielito is you! I just needed a reference for the artwork, so I chose a model that kind of looked like me. 😊)

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The warmth of spring is a welcome change from the chill of winter. The shining sun will begin its descent soon, and you’ll watch it from the base of this towering oak tree, beneath its curving branches and green leaves. You sit with your husband while the two calves you call your bovine daughters graze nearby.

His large palm is a comfort, resting on your belly, your hand over his.

“Okay,” you start. With how you’re lying back across Javier’s lap to prop yourself up on his bent knee, it’s easy to gaze at his beautiful, smiling face. “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or one hundred duck-sized horses?”

For the last twenty minutes, you’ve been asking him random questions. If you could be any Skittle, what color would you be? Red. Do you put on your socks left or right foot first? Right. Do you like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain? Yes, as long as it’s with you.

“A horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses…” he replies. “Hmmm.” His expression shows he’s really thinking it out, which delights you. “A horse-sized duck could do some real damage. I think I’d choose the duck-sized horses. It’d be a bitch fighting a hundred, but definitely better than a giant fucking duck.”

“Solid answer.”

“What would you choose?”

“Oh, absolutely, the duck-sized horses. You’re right about the horse-sized duck doing damage. That’s a no, thank you from me.”

He chuckles. “You got another question?”

“Ummm.” You take a second to think of one. “Oh! If you had to choose, would you give up cheese or blow jobs for the rest of your life?”

He frowns. “Can I still eat you out?”

You giggle. “Yes. You can give oral, but you can’t receive it.”

“Fuck, this is a hard one.”

You smile. “I know.”

“You give really fucking good head.” That makes you preen. “But, a lot of the shit you cook has cheese in it, and you know how much I love your food.”

The only person whose cooking he loved more than yours was his late mother’s. But, from what you’ve heard, eating her food was a religious experience, so you understand.

“You love it a lot.”

He smiles. “I do. I can’t believe I’m saying this. I’d give up blow jobs.”

“Wow, that’s a little surprising. Also, very sweet that you’d choose my cooking over getting your dick sucked.”

His free hand caresses your face, his thumb stroking over the apple of your cheek. “I can live without blow jobs, but I can’t live without your food—”

“Awe.”

“—or eating your pussy.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”

He chuckles and quickly pecks your lips. “What about you?” He asks when he pulls back. “Cheese or my mouth?”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“It’s hard to choose, right?”

“Yeah, it is. ‘Cause you are fucking amazing at eating pussy. Like, you deserve the highest honor for being the ‘World’s Greatest Cunnilinguist.’” That makes him laugh, his smile so big his dimple appears. “It’s true. I’m not even joking. Then we have cheese—glorious, delicious cheese. A gift to humankind. The eighth wonder of the culinary world.”

He’s amused. “I think I know, but which would you give up?”

“My god. I’m sorry, babe, but I think it has to be oral. I can’t imagine living without cheese. It’s cheese, for goodness’ sake!”

“I’m not surprised by your choice. You fucking love cheese.”

“Um, who doesn’t love cheese? Like, cheese is so good that many lactose-intolerant people are willing to suffer for the tasty goodness, and I don’t blame them. Also, you love cheese. Don’t deny it!”

He’s looking at you with soft eyes and a soft smile, the fondness clear on his handsome face. “I do love cheese.”

“Thank you. Now, it’s your turn to ask a question—look, the girls are curious about what their dad is gonna ask.”

The calves approach you both and lie down—the red one, Daphne, choosing a spot in the grass beside you to rest her head in your lap while her sister, Velma, gets comfortable on the ground by Javi’s feet.

It makes you smile, your hand moving to stroke your fingers over the red calf’s head.

“Can’t let my girls down,” he replies. “Let me think.” His eyes move away from yours for only a moment as he thinks about it. He meets your gaze again. “If you had three wishes, what would you wish for?”

“A classic. I’m assuming no wishing for more wishes?” you ask.

“Correct.”

“Okay. Universal healthcare, perfect tits, and for our family to be happy and healthy.”

He huffs in amusement. “You already have perfect tits.”

“Right now, they’re pretty great, but I’m thinking post-however many babies we’re gonna have, and, you know, aging.”

“They’ll still be perfect.”

You smile, playfully swatting at his chest. “Stop it, or I’ll beg you to get me pregnant.”

His lips turn up, his expression matching yours. “You’re already pregnant.” For emphasis, he rubs his palm over your dress-covered tummy where you aren’t even showing yet.

“Fine, double pregnant, which—“ You frown. “—when I actually think about that, it sounds awful for a first pregnancy. I have bad enough heartburn with one baby growing inside me, and don’t get me started on the morning sickness. Why do they even call it that? It’s misleading. This shit is all day. How worse would all of this be with two buns in my Easy-Bake oven?”

He leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Thankfully, this time around, you don’t have to find out.” He sits back to look into your eyes, his eyebrows creasing in concern. “Are you nauseous right now? Do we need to head back to Pop’s?”

Instead of coming out here on horseback, Javi brought you in his truck with the girls in a trailer behind it. He drove slowly, so the bumps weren’t too bad.

Your free hand went over his on your stomach again, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “No, I’m okay. It’s not too bad right now.”

“If it gets worse, tell me, and we can go.”

“I will. Thank you, babe. So, what are your three wishes?”

“A chance to talk to my mom again.” That didn’t surprise you. She passed away eight years ago, and he missed her dearly. “I’d love to tell her how happy I am, and all about you and her first nieto (grandchild) on the way.” He rubs small circles on your belly.

“She’d be so excited about her nieto (grandchild).” It is still too early to know the baby’s gender. “Not only that, I think she’d be more excited than Pop, and that’s saying something since he literally shows the sonogram to every single person he talks to.”

It’s true. He keeps it in his wallet, and any time he goes into town, he shows it to whoever he sees.

An amused huff leaves him. “You’re right. She’d be way worse than Pop.”

“We’d love it, though.”

“Yes, we would.”

“What‘s your second wish?”

“To have a baby with you,” he answers immediately.

You smile. “How does it feel to know that wish is going to come true?”

His face visibly lights up with a toothy grin that makes you giggle. “Fucking amazing. I am the happiest man on the entire planet, and it’s all thanks to you.” He pecks the tip of your nose.

“I wouldn’t say it’s all me. I mean, you had a part in making the baby. It was a small one that only lasted like, ten seconds, but it was still pretty important.”

“Sure, but I believe you once said that I only contribute a pleasurable 1% to our group project that you are doing 99% of the work on. By those numbers, I think you deserve all of the credit. So, it is all thanks to you, mi amor (my love).”

“If you insist.”

“I do. I honestly can’t believe how fucking lucky I am. I’m married, we have a kid on the way, we’re gonna have a house, and a dog. Christ, two years ago? I never would’ve imagined this was what my future looked like. Someone could’ve told me, and I wouldn’t have believed them.”

“You’ve come a long way, and I’m just glad you’re finally getting to live a happy life.”

“I am, too.” It’s hardly any effort for him to lean forward, closing the distance to press his plush lips to yours in a tender kiss—warmth spreads through your veins, and your eyes close, relishing this sweet moment. When he breaks away, he gently nudges your nose with his, and your eyelids flutter open, the expression on his face showing his love and happiness.

“You’re adorable,” you tell him. “What’s your third wish?”

He’s smiling. “For our family to be happy and healthy.”

You share his look. “You, sir, are a sap.”

“You said it first.”

“I did.”

“What’s the next question?”

“Why do I have to come up with all of them?”

“Because you’re better at it than I am.”

“That is so true. Give me a second.”

“Okay.”

You sit there against his leg, one hand over his, the other petting Daphne as you think.

“This next one might be a bit controversial,” you say.

“Okay?”

“Is a hot dog in a bun a sandwich?”

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[written-and-readen]

you know what. time for me to be a whore (3.1 spoilers)

thinking of non-relationship reader coming over to anaxa's new temporary place in okhema to drop off some stuff only to hear strange noises. they move to check it out before cerces shows up and is like "i wouldn't do that if i were you. anaxagoras is simply... preoccupied."

but reader is still a dumbass and wants to check on him (cerces tried, alright) only to walk in on him "relieving some stress" from everything that's happened.

...ofc maybe a talk about respecting privacy and boundaries is in order later but ooh boy

Knock Before You Enter

Anaxa x reader

Summary: You go to visit Anaxa after the incident at the Grove of Epiphany and accidentally interrupt him while he’s busy.

Warnings: nsfw (18+), male masturbation

a/n: The way my jaw DROPPED while reading this

You readjust the box of scrolls in your hand as you climb the stairs to where Anaxa's supposed to be staying. Aglaea had directed you to a house at the edge of Okhema, one further from the city's noise, after giving a brief rundown of what had happened. You're sure the professor would be irked that you'd had to speak even a word to Aglaea, but that's something that could be omitted easily enough without raising suspicion. Honestly, you're just relieved he's alive. Hopefully, seeing how you'd salvaged some of the Grove's resources would lift his mood a little.

As you approach the door, you hear something coming from the other side. It sounds like heavy breathing. You set your box down next to the door to check it out, but before you can lean your ear closer, a voice speaks from behind you.

"I suggest not going in there." You jump and turn to face a woman with branches entwined in her long hair and a faint golden glow surrounding her.

"You're Cerces, aren't you?" You ask in awe, and she nods in reply. As amazing as it is to finally see the Titan of Reason in person, you have to curb your excitement for now. "I didn't know you could separate from Anaxa. Is he in there?"

"He's a little preoccupied right now. I do not wish to be around him, and I'm certain he feels the same." That tracks. Anaxa wasn't really known for his agreeable personality, especially concerning the Titans.

"You too should probably not interrupt him," Cerces advises.

"We're friends though. I want to make sure he's alright." Anaxa may dislike the Titans, but you're no Titan. Before the incident at the Grove, you’d drop by his office when possible. Although he often scolded you for interrupting his work, especially when you didn't knock, he’d let you keep him company. You're sure he wouldn't mind a visitor, and you made a promise to yourself to keep it short so he could get some rest.

You push open the door, and your hand hasn't even left the doorknob before you see Anaxa. His eye meets yours, slightly hazy compared to their usual sharpness, and his turquoise hair has strands falling in front of his face. His jacket is draped over the back of the chair he's sitting in, exposing his shoulders and making their rise and fall clearer as he breathes heavily, mouth slightly agape.

His right hand, unadorned by his rings, is wrapped around his leaking cock. You hadn’t noticed how long his fingers were until you now saw them curled so prettily around its length. That's the best word you can come up with in the moment: pretty. He looks so pretty like this—

In an instant, you pull the door shut again. You’ve never seen the Sage so….uncomposed, and it has you losing your composure as well. Your heart has gone from normal to max speed, your cheeks are aflame, and for the life of you, you cannot forget the image you just witnessed. Anaxa's recurring reminders of how you should knock before entering ring in your head before Cerces' voice breaks through them.

"I did warn you, didn't I?"

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles: (COD) 141 It's Just A prank

I keep seeing this prank on my tiktok, and I'm finally up to write something, so here we go. Hope you enjoy my edition of "Telling mom no" Prank

WC- 3.5k

Ghost ( Simon Riley)

The telly in front of Simon plays the most recents rugby game. Dinner was almost ready. He could smell the sweet fragrant smell of the food that his sweetheart had been cooking. Their son and daughter watching you from the table.

Simon could hear you rambling on to your young daughter. Her babbles and groans can be heard through the house. You're also talking to your five year son. Last he knew his son was sitting on a chair watching you chop veggies. When Simon had been told by you "Go sit down Si watch the game, and zone out." With a peck to his cheek and a shove to push him out of the kitchen.

He could just barely you over the volume of the TV. Though he would pick your voice over the sound of the tv any day. Simon grabs the remote and turns the volume down just in time to hear you ask your five year old son "Could you please set the table for dinner bubba?"

There's silence for a minute, and then a harsh and strong "NO" It doesn't really register at first. Since the birth of his son, Simon had taught his son to not only respect every single person he met but especially his momma. "Bubba, please don't make me ask again." Your voice is level. Simon knows that your son didn't take his afternoon nap, so he's okay with letting it slide that he's got an attitude with his momma.

Except his feet are carrying him towards the kitchen when he hears his son shout yet again "No momma you can't make me." He really does try to curb his anger when he set foot in the kitchen.

"Why do I hear you not doin' what your momma asked of you?" Simons starts off almost immediately. He sees his sons wide with fear. He's never heard the fury of his fathers voice.

When he looks over at you though your hand is covering your mouth, brows arched. He knows that face. His sons voice cuts through the silence. "Momma said that it was gonna be funny, she said so." Your hand drops from your face and you give your son a look. "Bubba, you said you could keep a secret." You says to your son. "But Daddy" he points at Simon. "He says always be respectful to you."

You look back to your husband. A simple prank that you had seen on social media. His brow arched as he looks between you and your son. "What kinda prank is that?" Simon asks you. "It was supposed to be a funny one. Not one that makes our son turn on me right away." Your grovel. Returning to your cooking. "You can't prank me, with our own kids bird. I've taught him far to well for that to work." Simons says standing behind you. A quick peck to your cheek before looking over at your son. "You are gonna set the table though buddy." Your son is nodding his head and grabbing his daddys hand to get help with the plates and silverware.

Gaz (Kyle Garrick)

Your daughter was the apple of Kyles eye. She could do no wrong. No matter what she did, your husband was always there to help her through it, but now she's at that age where she's throwing more and more attitude. Saying things that are catching you off guard.

With Kyle being away he has yet to notice the shift. You knock on your daughters bedroom. She's in her early teens and she sensitive about everything. "What mum?" She shrieks from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?" She huffs but opens the door.

Theres an akward silence between the two of you for the first few seconds. I was thinking with your dad coming home soon, that maybe we could prank him." An olive branch, a way to mend the teenage bridge between you and your daughter.

She looks at you sideways. Cora looks me up and down, before nodding. You smile. Sitting down on the edge of her bed. Telling her your idea. One that you had gotten from tiktok. Whether it is the ability to be able to yell, and shout you or the just that she can trick her dad Cora agrees nonetheless.

Kyle comes back in just a few days. So you and cora end up setting the whole thing up. "When ever we are all together when I ask you to do something I want to just either ignore me, or… you can say one bad word. Any word you want to." Her light up. "Any bad word, and I wont get in trouble?" Cora doesn't really trust that she won't get in trouble, but with a simple nod of your head she agrees to the terms.

Two long days pass. Waking up to the cold bed is okay, but you know that Kyle will be back tonight. You grab your clothes getting ready for the day while your daughter gets ready for school. You remind her before she slips from the car that her father will be home tonight, and wave her goodbye as walks to her friends.

Kyle comes home later that night to the smell of a fresh cooked meal and you and your daughter both setting the table. The bag gets dropped by the door, toeing off his combat boots. It all happens so fast how he's got the both of you in his arms, pressing kisses to your cheeks. Breathing in a must need breathe of fresh air.

"How have my lovies been?" He asks when he finally lets go of the both of you. "Good daddy." Cora says sweetly as she sits down in front of her plate. "We've been good, just been missing you is all." You say reaching out to grab his hand. He squeezing your hand and goes to eating.

Dinner is smooth. A calmness that covers the house is warm and inviting. It's nice to have Kyle back, bring that bright smile back him even if the dark circles under his eyes show just how little sleep he managed to get will out on his mission with the 141.

You get up grabbing everyones plate, and bring them to the sink. Loading the sink to the brim with dirty dishes. You'll help her after the two of you play this prank on Kyle.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen Kyle has already left the room. His heavy footsteps can be heard in the laundry room. He always does his wash when he first gets home then switches into his sweats and an old army t-shirt that Kyle has had since Coras birth.

You nod at your daughter as you hear him walk towards your shared bedroom. "Honey can you do the dishes for me while I put away leftovers." You're shouting, louder then needed but you wanna make sure that Kyle hears this entire conversation. "I'm not doing the fucking dishes you bitch."

You aren't shocked one bit, by her choice of curse words. You know that aren't really mean, hell she's smiling right at you. But the man that is currently stomping towards the kitchen doesn't know just how hard the two of you are trying to keep your laughs from escaping your chests.

Loud, and thundering footsteps finally stop when you spot Kyle. You've never seen his face flushed with so much anger. The calm demeanor he had before was gone. Jaw set and fist flexing in his hand. "I know I didn't just hear you call your mum a bitch and say the word fuck." He's fuming, "I thought we taught you better Cora, but I guess not. Have you been treating your mother like this the entire time I've been gone? I hope to god that you haven't because if I hear that you have been…" Theres a chill in the air. You may have let this go on for a bit longer then needed, because yes her attitude has been shit but a part of you knows she just misses her father just as much as you miss your husband.

You step in finally after a look over at Coras glosses eyes. "Honey it was just a prank. She didn't mean it. Did you Cora?" You ask looking over at your daughter. She shakes her head quickly. Kyle has never once raised his voice, so maybe she's a bit scared.

"Huh?" Kyles brows arch as he looks between the two of you. His chest is heaving as he tries to gain some sort of control back over his anger. "I…Why would you… that was just plain mean." He says stumbling over his words. "We just wanted to prank you." Coras words are quiet, trembling out of her mouth.

Your husband takes a deep breath before walking over towards your daughter. "I'm sorry baby." He says sweetly and much more calmly. Her nose twitches and you know she wants to cry, Kyle must see it to cause he's wrapping her in a huge hug and squeezing her tightly in his grip.

That night your daughter crawls between you and your husband as the movies starts. "I'm sorry mum." She whispers. "Never mind that baby, just watch the movie." You mutter quietly back to her as you press a kiss to her forehead.

Price (John Price)

The middle child always is either forgotten or holds the most responsibility there is simple no in between (yes that's a pun) Regardless of that though. With John you have three children. Your oldest Jack is just about to start his university years. Your middle son Oliver who's in the half way point of secondary school, and your youngest Ivy who's just done with primary school.

John retired when you brought your only baby-girl into the world. John has been there for every single basketball game, every soccer game, and every single ballet practice, and performance. Never missing a single day of his children lifes. One night as you lay in bed Oliver comes to you with a confession. "Mum I need to tell you something." He says. His father is probably asleep watching the some sports game again. "Yeah honey what's going on?" You asks setting down your kindle. Patting the side of the bed for him to come over and sit with you.

He swallows and comes over, and for a minute its silent. "I feel like I have more chores then the Jack and Ivy." You go to start talking, but he shakes his head. "I looked at the chore chart mum, it's not fair. I have to do the dishes, clean up after them after dinner, do the laundry, my homework, and make sure that I'm getting good enough grades to continue playing sports." He's stressed you can see the signs that his father passed down to him. You think for a moment. Right now your two other kids are probably talking to friends or playing some sort of games, and you had asked poor Oli to do all the cleaning after you had put away the leftovers from dinner.

It's a few days later and many hours on TikTok later when you see a video. A mother and her kid pranking their father by saying 'no'. You thought for a moment, and went searching for more. You had yet to tell John about the stress that you both had been placing on your middle child. Later when you picked up Oli, you set out a plan. A plan that could be a prank for John, but also maybe a teaching moment for Jack, and Ivy. A plan that Oli doesn't really understand, but he understand that this will hopefully help everyone see where things might have fallen off the track.

So a week later after dinner with John, Jack, and Ivy sitting in the living room watching some tv you nod at Oli. "Oliver, clear off the table and do the dishes." Not a questions a demand. Unlike usual where Oli jumps out of his chair grabbing plates, cups, and silverware he doesn't. He looks over to the living room, and then back at you wanting reassurance. "No." A moment of silence and then "What?" Playing into this as much as possible. "I didn't make this whole mess. So I shouldn't have to do all this cleaning by myself either." His points are valid, but to get John to come into the room you have to get louder. "Why can't Jack, and Ivy do it?" He asks louder, "because Oliver Price, I asked you to do it!" You practically shout back. "And I said NO." He stomps off towards his room.

It takes John a minute but he's in the room before Oliver can make his way towards his bedroom out even out of the dining room. "what is going on right now?" He asks, brows furrowed down on his face. "I asked Oliver to do something and he keeps giving me backtalk, saying that Jack and Ivy should be helping." You say faux anger.

"Oliver." John says sternly. He may not be in the service anymore but that stern commanding voice hasn't left his body, and probably never will. "I won't do them dad. Jack and Ivy don't do anything around here. I clean all the dishes, I do all the laundry, I do everything and i still have to make sure that I have good grades so i can play sports. It's unfair especially when they get to do whatever they want to do all the time. I barely get to hang out with my friends because I don't have the time." You son says, releasing a bit of anger, and sadness more then he had when he talked to weeks ago.

John has always been an understanding man, always listened to his men in 141. Never did things that were not rational. Always wanted the truth, so the silence that surrounds the room is not something you weren't excepting. He watching his son, and listening to his two other kids chatter away in the other room.

"JACK! IVY" John yells, in a short moment the both of them are standing there staring at their father and brother and you. "What's up dad?" Jack asks. "What chores do you have?" He asks straightforward. "I um… I've got my… Some times I vacuum" "So I'm hearing a lot of nothing." John says, looking over at Ivy, he repeats his questions. "I help mum sometimes with making dinner." She says proudly. She might be in primary school, but she has no chores either. Leaving everything that doesn't get done by John or you on Oli's tiny shoulders.

"That's not a chore, since I know for a fact that you don't help your mother every day make dinner for the lot of us." John says. Looking back over at you, and then at Oli. He speaks again this time to the entire family.

"The chore chart is getting a massive overhaul. No more of this shit where Oliver is the only one doing all the chores. I don't wanna lip from any of you about this change. I'll have a new chore chart written by the weekend. From now on though Jack and Ivy you're on dish duty tonight." Theres a pause, but then with a stern and finally look Jack and Ivy are walking towards the dining room grabbing everything up to be washed in the kitchen.

"Oliver I really would have rather you told me or your mother what was going on instead of disrespecting your mother like that.""Now hold on John. He did come to me." His head turns so quickly. "I thought… well I say something on that social media app TikTok and thought that the two of us could get a laugh out of pranking you, but I always wanted to show you something that I fear might have been going on for a little to long John." You say. "So then you didn't mean to be nasty to your mum Oliver?" John asks, Oliver shakes his head "No I just was just tired of being the only one doing chores when Jack and Ivy get to have all the fun." Oliver says sweetly.

A deep sigh leaves Johns lips. He reaches out and grabs Olivers hand, "How about you come with me, and we can watch TV for the rest of the night." he offers, "but it's a school night?" Oliver counters, "How about we don't worry about that right now, how about tomorrow we take you somewhere were you can have some fun?" He asks Oliver. There's a light that beams from behind Olivers blues eyes and nods his head following his father into the living room.

Soap (Johnny McTavish)

Lucy your three year old daughter has the sass of you and the stubbornness of her father Johnny. Is supposed to be getting ready for bed, or be in bed by now. The clock reads 8pm at least good thirty minutes past her normal bed. But her pj's are on she's been read her nightly bedtime story by Johnny. Her night light lighting up the room with an ambient glow.

The tv is at a low volume, just enough that you can hear the words but not enough that if something loud happens it will wake Lucy. Except Lucy is currently standing at the edge of the couch her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms. "I can't go to sleep dada." She prays at her fathers heartstrings.

Giving him large glossy eyes. "Okay baby, lets go back to your bed." That was attempt one, Johnny had tucked her in so tightly that she must be able to fall asleep now. That was attempt one, the second time she came out of her room her hair was a bit more messed up. As if she had been tossing and turning. The netflix show that played on tv got paused for the second time. Some murder tv show that you had been waiting all day to watch with Johnny. "Mummy, back spider?" She asks.

She loves your long nails that Johnny pays to get re-done every single two weeks. Likes when you whisper to her and drag your longs nails up her back. You follow her to her room her hand interlock in yours. You sit on the edge of the bed, while Lucy falls straight on her face, her back exposed to you.

"X marks the spot. Dot, dash, dot, dash, question mark. spiders crawling up your back, spiders crawling down your back. Cool breeze, tight squeeze now you've got the chills." You says as your fingers move along her back. Her breathing as gone steady. You wait a few more minutes drawing a few extra circles and hearts into her back before returning to your husband in the living room.

But apparently third times is the charm. When she comes waddling back out only a few minutes later. "Lucy you need to go to bed now sweetie." Johnny says staring at his sleepy daughter. "I don't wanna!" She shrieks. The clock reads almost 830pm. And this yelling and shouting will only last so long before she ends up tiring herself out. "Hey don't go shoutin' now." Johnny mutters as he gets up to take her back to her room.

The grippy bottoms of her onesies allows her to grip the floor and run out of her reach of your husband long arms. "Lucy, you need to go to bed we have special things we are doing tomorrow baby girl." Your husband tries. But Lucy shakes her head not agreeing with anything. "Baby you gotta go to bed." "I DON'T WANNA." She says turning her head with every word. Johnny can't help but look over at you. "She's got all your sass lovie." You shake your head, "But all of your stubbornness." You throw back. He groans as he picks up Lucy. "How about we just stay here on the couch." He offers. Lucy hums in Johnnys arms and snuggles into her chest. Her snores fill the room and the tv show turns back on at least until you look over at Johnny and say. "I hope you know she was out when I gave her those back scratches, but she wanted to play a prank on you, so this was it." Sleep invades your words, but Johnny doesn't really seem to care about his daughters silly little outburst, or how it relates to her and you wanting to prank him.

"That's okay lovie, just watch your tv show." He says combing his fingers through Lucys hair. The next time he looks over at the end of another episode, not only is Lucy asleep, but so are you. Cuddled into his other arm. Blanket thrown over your legs. He'll stay right there until he either get's kicked in the face by his daughter moving in her sleep so much, or when he wakes up to pain in the bottom on his neck.

[reverieblondie]

Spicy idea: Halsin talking to someone over a tall wall or fence and tav Touching/sucking him off to get a reaction out of him until the person leaves and then halsin lets her HAVE IT, punishment or just super riled up

Okay I love love this idea! Halsin is one of my favorite characters, but he is so hard to write for. I hope you enjoy!

18+! Fem receiving oral, Male receiving oral.

Halsin practically growls as his eyes roll. His head tilts back, "That's perfect, my heart. You're taking me. So well."

Halsin's voice purrs out the praise making your stomach flip as you swallow down another inch of his cock, the girth, and length making you gage, forcing drool to slide from your lips, dripping from your chin to your bare thighs. You're rewarded with another moan from the towering druid, his fist full of your hair tightening, making you whine.

The painful stretch in your throat and on your scalp, however, with every shove and pull, you circle your clit faster, making you practically purr against his cock. 

Pulling away from him you let out a gasp for air, you hold tight onto his thick thighs. Halsin looks down at you, affection filling his hazel eyes. You take his hot, spit-soaked length and roll your tongue over his tip peddling with pre cum. Halsin growls as soon as your tongue teases his tip with slow licks, then quick kitten licks, "You damn minx, you trying to get me to make a mess on your face?"

You just hum at him as you take his tip back between your lips. Halsin's about to taunt you more as he returns his hand to your hair. Then suddenly, the sound of a snapping branch makes Halsin instantly push you closer…You gage with the sudden deep intrusion; moving to push away for a break, you only feel Halsin let out a shaky breath as you're forced to be pinned against the low cobblestone wall. "H-Hello Gale, What brings you out here to these ruins."

"Ah! Hello Halsin, just looking for a quiet place to read from a tome or two."

The sudden guest makes you freeze; you didn't expect when you dragged Halsin out here, others would show up! And, of course, it's Gale; damn blabbermouth would probably let it slip what he caught you two doing. Flicking your eyes up, you see a nervous-looking Halsin. It's not that he's embarrassed, but he likes privacy for intimate moments like this. Halsin briefly meets your gaze in what you're hoping he can read: 'Get rid of him.' 

Gale is completely unaware of the compromising position that you're in. You lean against the short wall, right... just go ahead and get comfortable... It's not like you have a massive man down your throat!

"Halsin… um… actually, I'm glad I ran into you… I've been meaning to talk to you..."

A love confession!? You're about to pull away from Halsin, but his large hand keeps on the back of your head, keeping you steady.

"Sure, what do you need?"

From how it sounds, Gale is nervously trying to formulate his thoughts. You're feeling more and more anxious, starting to lose your patience, but Halsin just carefully rubs your head as he discreetly rocks his hips in and out of your mouth. 300-year-old perv... 

"Well... I wanted to ask your opinion or rather your advice about something, actually more, someone."

He's not actually trying to get advice right now, is he? You groan, and Halsin hides his moan with a slight chuckle. Oh, if he thinks this is funny, you can make it hard for him… Moving your tongue over his length, feeling as he slightly shifts, trying to keep his calm demeanor.

"I wanted your advice on... being able to know if someone is... interested. I know how to flirt, but I don't know if she is interested."

He's talking about Shadowheart.....

"You're talking about Shadowheart." Halsin echoes your inner thoughts. Halsin looks down quickly, giving you a sympathetic smile. But you're not going to make this easy on him... Gale is long-winded, and you plan on torturing Halsin for every second.

"So, just talk to her? Ask her flat out?"

Halsin groans; his need to release is killing him, but Gate keeps going on and on. Halsin thought he was long-winded before, but now... and you... Oh, you're asking for it with the way you hollow your cheeks around his girth, playing with his balls as you bob up and down. As soon as Gale is gone, he will give you exactly what you deserve for your patience. Halsin has to hold back his grin; he hasn't had this much fun with another in a long time. You know exactly how to rile him up.

"Yes, please just go speak with her... quickly."

Gale looks a bit surprised, "Now? Like right now?" 

"Yes! Do not waste a moment. Go."

With Halsin's advice, Gale runs off to find Shadowheart. You only have a second to silently wish him luck before you're pulled by Halsin; he lifts you up from your sore knees. Large hands holding your thighs tightly as he makes you wrap your legs around his waist. You think you see his hazel eyes glow gold before he eagerly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a fever. His grip gets tighter as he tastes himself on your tongue, but that's not the taste he's looking for... 

"I thought he would never leave..." Halsin husk as he parts from your lips... his hips rutting against your hot core as he buries his nose in your hair, trying to ground himself, but from the thick strain rubbing against your cunt he's about to lose all control. His hands slide down to the front of your trousers, and he wastes no time untying them. Instead, opt for ripping the front open, exposing your wet cunt.

Halsins growled in your ear again. "Then there's you and your damn teasing of my cock…" 

One hand holds your ass in a tight squeeze as his other other hand's fingers start to fill

your pussy, prepping you. "I hope you had your fill... because it's my turn, my heart."

Before you can gather back your senses, he's swiftly pulling his thick fingers out of your cunt and lifting you so your legs are resting on his shoulders and his face is buried in your cunt. His nose immediately dives into your pussy, rubbing against your clit as his tongue gives slow licks.

"Hal-Halsin! Ahh~" is what you gasp as you hold a fist full of his brown hair. Halsin smiles at your reaction before bouncing you further up his shoulders as his lapping tongue moves to pump in and out of you.

Before long, you're grinding your cunt over his face as he holds tight handfuls of your ass. You knew he was strong, but to have you like this is taking your breath away... well, and that tongue of his fucking you. 

Halsin parts from you smiling up at your sweat-shined face. His gorgeous face is covered in your glising arousal. 

"Please..." is all you can rasp before Halsin shakes his head. "Sorry, little one. I think you can endure more."

It's the darkest you have ever heard him sound... then his mouth goes back to your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and giving a hard suck with a chuckle... He plans on torturing you. 

[lovelyjj]

congratulations honey!!! you so so so deserve it<3<3<3

sooo I'm in a dilema it's either pillow fight "Shh... just a little bit more." maybe it could be the second or third time they sleep together? or painting nails with never be by 5sos i think is so jj x pogue!reader coded whatever you like more<3

Thank you so much! How about both😏

also how’d you know i am a 5sos girlie for life🤞🏻

here is the link for the other story

Never Be

jj maybank x reader

lyrics are in bold

I need your love to light up this house

I wanna know what you're all about

I wanna feel you feel you tonight

I wanna tell you that it's alright

Being friends with Kiara was fun. She was pretty much your only friend. You were really quite shy. So when Kiara mentioned this party she wanted you to go to you were hesitant. But of course Kiara found a way to drag you to it. The party was at the boneyard.

Being the shy girl that you were you stayed close to Kiara's side. "Come here Y/N, I want to introduce you to some people," Kiara told you. "Okay," you responded. Kiara led you through the sea of people and to a nearby branch. At the tree log there was John B who you knew. There was a few other people that you didn't know but you had a feeling you were going to find out.

"Y/N, this is Pope," Kiara introduced you to a curly haired boy who stuck out his hand for you to shake.

"Hi nice to meet you," you said.

"Hi I've herd a lot about you it's nice to finally meet you," Pope replied.

"And this is JJ," Kiara pointed to a blonde haired boy in a muscle tee.

"Hey I'm JJ," JJ reached his hand out and turned to look at you. When JJ saw you for the first time it was like the whole world stopped spinning. You looked like an angel. JJ had to blink himself back to reality.

You shook his hand. "I'm Y/N, how are you?"

"Uh Im doing good i think yeah i'm good how are you," JJ stuttered.

When you saw JJ you were immediately greeted with a funny feeling in your stomach. He was beautiful. He looked so hot it was almost too much for you. Then you got sad because you assumed he had a girlfriend.

"I'm good thanks," you replied.

"Why don't I get you a drink?" JJ asked.

"Okay," you smiled.

JJ led you to the keg and poured you a drink. "Here this should take the edge off," JJ handed you the beer. You took a sip letting the liquid slide down your throat, easing your nerves.

"So how come I haven't seen you around here," JJ asked.

"Oh I don't know I'm mostly hanging out with Kiara and I'm pretty shy," you don't know why you were opening up to him but the conversation felt easy.

"Iv been friends with Kiara for a while," JJ responded.

"Yeah she told me about you."

"Oh really what did she say?" JJ asked.

"That your a crazy and impulsive surfer guy," you giggled.

"Sounds about right," JJ winked at you.

You weren't gonna deny that JJ was attractive. He was the most attractive and beautiful man you've ever seen. He made you feel all tingly or maybe that was the alcohol.

"So what's your story?" JJ asked.

"My story?"

"Yeah like how'd you get here and who are you really?"

"Oh well I've lived here since I was 5. My parents and I live near the cut. I have a job at the country club as a waitress. I love the beach a little too much. Im a good friend and listener but sometimes Im a little shy and i'm a light weight," you explained.

"You sound wonderful. I think we're gonna get along just fine," JJ smiled.

"Okay," you laughed.

You and JJ fell into comfortable conversation, chatting about anything and everything. The two of you talked til it became sunset. You watched as the sky turned into beautiful pink and orange colors. JJ was glad he met you because he liked you and your personality. He learned quite a bit about you.

I need your love to guide me back home

When I'm with you I'm never alone

I need to feel you feel you tonight

I need to tell you that it's alright

JJ never really had a home. With his father being an abusive drunk his house was not a good home. His place of residence or his actual home was the château. John B was happy to have JJ stay with him. They were best friends.

JJ considered you a friend. After the boneyard party the two of you hung out a lot, with and without Kiara. JJ took a liking to you. The two of you we're becoming fast friends. You liked JJ a lot. He was exciting and confident. He challenged you.

It was a rare occasion when JJ went to his house. This time he needed a few things from his room. Some clothes, some toiletries and some necessities. He thought his dad was out of the house but boy was he wrong. His dad was home and drunk and angry.

Luke took his anger out on JJ, like he always did. JJ got beat up pretty bad but he managed to get away. JJ didn't know what to do next. He got on his bike and made his way towards your house aching in pain. JJ hasn't opened up to you about his dad yet. But he needed to see you. He had to.

You were on your bed listening to music. It was a quiet evening. Then all of a sudden you herd a tapping at your window. You turned your music off and rushed to your window to see a bruised and broken JJ. You opened the window and helped him inside as he winced.

"JJ what the hell happened?"

"Look I know you're probably really worried but it's okay i'm a tough guy. I just wanted to see you," JJ explained.

"JJ, if your not gonna tell me what happened at least let me help," you countered. JJ nodded. You took him to your bathroom and got out the first aid kit. You also got some rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet.

"Wait here I'll be right back," you spoke.

You went downstairs to the kitchen to get some pain killers and some water. Then you came back up and into your bathroom where JJ was waiting. "Here take this, it will help with the pain," you gave him an Advil and the water to wash it down with.

"Thank you," JJ smiled softly. It was hard to be unhappy when he was around you. You made him feel better just by being there.

You wiped his cuts with alcohol and put a bandage on them. "I need you to lift up your shirt. I need to see if there's more."

"Y/N."

"JJ please," you begged.

Hesitantly JJ lifted up his shirt and what you saw broke your heart in half. Deep purple and blue bruises littered his stomach and sides. You took a deep breath and tried not to cry. You swallowed and then said, "Are you gonna tell me who did this?"

"It's alright, I'm alright," JJ responded.

You did your best to clean JJ up. You continued without a word. Silently you got up and put the kit away. "Can I- can I stay here tonight?" JJ asked.

"Yeah of course."

"I could sleep on the floor," JJ suggested.

"Don't be silly. I'll get the air mattress from the hall closet," you replied.

After blowing up the air mattress you got a bunch of blankets. You placed the mattress on the floor right next to your bed. "You can have my bed, I can sleep on the air mattress," you offered. "No no you take your bed i'll be fine." JJ seemed comfortable.

The next morning the two of you ate breakfast together. JJ didn't want to go home. He also realized he was falling in love with you. He didn't know what to do. What if you didn't feel the same way. What would he do?

"Do you have a safe place to stay?" You asked JJ.

"Yeah I'll be okay, thanks for being there for me I appreciate everything you've done," JJ told you.

Your love and kindness guided him back to the château. JJ walked in with a lovesick smile on his face. "What's with you?" John B questioned.

"Oh nothing," JJ continued to smile.

"Well you must of gotten laid or something," John B snickered.

"Nope nothing like that," JJ responded.

John B rolled his eyes. JJ went to his room to go plot some ways he could steal your heart.

We'll never be as young as we are now

It's time to leave this old black and white town

Let's seize the day, let's run away

Don't let the colors fade to gray

We'll never be as young as we are now

As young as we are now

I've seen myself here in your eyes

I stay awake 'til the sunrise

I wanna hold you hold you all night

I wanna tell you that you're all mine

You and JJ have been texting for weeks. You also spent a lot of time together alone. JJ was trying to get the courage to ask you out on a date. He figured since you were hanging so much you might say yes. He hoped and prayed.

You and Kiara were at the château hanging out. JJ made an appearance and asked if you could talk with him. Kiara raised her eyebrows at you but you waved her off.

You entered JJ's room and JJ motioned for you to sit on his bed. "Okay I just wanted to ask you something," JJ started.

"Of course, you can ask me anything," you responded.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me?" JJ nervously bit his lip.

"Oh I mean I would love to."

"Wait really?"

"Yes really."

JJ tackled you in a big hug. You fell back on the bed and JJ hugged your middle while he was practically on top of you. You laughed.

"How about tomorrow?" JJ asked.

"Tomorrow is great," you replied.

——

The next day came fast. JJ had it all planned out. He was gonna take you to dinner and then you were gonna watch the sunset on the beach. He showed up to your house with a bouquet of roses and knock on the front door. You opened the door with a big smile. JJ almost died. His heart stopped. You looked gorgeous.

You were wearing a pretty blue and white sundress and you were wearing minimal makeup. You still looked like the most beautiful girl in the world, according to JJ. JJ handed you the roses as he greeted you.

"JJ these are beautiful thank you!"

"You're welcome," he smiled.

You put the flowers in a vase full of water and then put them on the kitchen counter. "Ready to go?" JJ asked. "Yes."

JJ drove you to the dinner place. It was nice, really nice. "You look beautiful," JJ complimented. JJ couldn't believe he was on a date with you. He admired you so much and deeply.

"Thank you," you blushed.

"So tell me do you have a bucket list?" JJ asked.

"Yeah I do actually. One of the main things on there is to travel the world. Another thing is to go bungee jumping. Maybe go on a road trip. Ya know the usual. What's on yours?"

"I want to take a surf trip to Yucatán," JJ smiled.

"Sounds like a dream," you sighed.

"I truly hope all your dreams and wishes come true," JJ spoke softly.

"Thank you, I hope yours do too!"

Eventually your food came and you enjoyed your wine and dinner talking to each other. JJ saved up enough money where he could pay for the both of you, so he did. Then the two of you walked hand in hand to the beach.

Once you got to the beach JJ grabbed some blankets from the car and spread them out over the sand. You sat down on the blanket and rested your head on JJ's shoulder. The sun was starting to set.

The sky started to become an array of colors like pink, purple and orange. It was breathtaking. You and JJ watched the sunset with the same glimmer in your eyes. With the sun gone it got dark. The two of you laid down and cuddled up together.

You snuggled up to JJ's warm body and he held you close. Somewhere in the night you fell asleep. JJ didn't. JJ stayed up all night holding you and thinking. He wanted to keep you safe. He wondered what it would be like if you were his.

The sun started to rise and JJ thought you should see it. "Hey Y/N. Y/N! Y/N!"

"What?" you grumbled eyes still closed.

"Look the sun is rising," JJ exclaimed.

You took a peak at the sky and low and behold the sun was rising. The sky was painted in a orange hue and decorating the sky. It was stunning. You and JJ gazed at the sky in awe of the beautiful art.

JJ did a lot of thinking while he stayed awake while you were sleeping. He thought about your future together and what he wanted with you. He wanted to make you his.

"Y/N," JJ called out.

"What?”

"Look at me please," JJ ordered.

You did what he asked and looked at him in his hold. JJ cupped your face with one hand. He looked into your eyes and then his gaze flickered down to your lips.

In one quick moment JJ closed the gap between you. JJ kissed you like you were the only two people on the planet. Everything disappeared and all you could feel is his lips on yours. JJ kissed you with passion. It was like your skin was on fire.

JJ's tongue entered your mouth in a fiery dance. You welcomed it. As the two of you were making out you could hear the crashes of the waves. When the need for air got to much you pulled away and JJ let out a whine.

"I want you to be mine," JJ announced nervously.

"I wouldn't want it any other way," you smiled.

I felt our hands intertwine

I hear our hearts beating in time

I need to hold you hold you all night

I need to tell you that you're all mine

A couple days later JJ decided to take you on a walk. JJ took your hand and guided you through the streets of the outer banks. You saw a bunch of shops and a pharmacy. It was nice. After your walk you went to your house.

The two of you went into your room and laid down on your bed. JJ held you close just wanting to be close to you and to feel you. He rubbed your back and squeezed your hip. You closed your eyes and basked in his presence.

JJ felt your heart beat and his heart matched yours. It was like you were both in sync. You both eventually fell asleep holding each other. It was your own little place, safe and sound together.

The sunshine filled the room from the window waking up JJ. You were still peaceful sleeping. JJ watched as you slept overwhelmed with your beauty. He thought you were the most precious thing ever. He brushed some hair away from your face and kissed your forehead.

7We'll never be as young as we are now

It's time to leave this old black and white town

Let's seize the day, let's run away

Don't let the colors fade to gray

8We'll never be as young as we are now

As young as we are now

We won't wait for tomorrow

It's too late we don't follow

We won't wait for tomorrow

It's too late we don't follow

We'll never be as young as we are now

It's time to leave this old black and white town

Let's seize the day, let's run away

Don't let the colors fade to gray

"Do you ever think about leaving?" JJ was rubbing circles on your hip as you laid together in the hammock.

"What do you mean?"

"Like getting out of the OBX? Leaving and running away from it all," JJ explained.

"Hmm sometimes, but only if i'm with you," you smiled.

"You're sweet," JJ chuckled.

"I'd run away with you," JJ added.

"Really?"

"Yeah of course."

"Where should we go?" You asked.

"Somewhere exotic."

"Okay."

After you and JJ talked about running away JJ wanted to show you something. He said it was a really good surprise that you couldn't miss. So there you were being guided by JJ and having no clue where you were going.

After what felt like forever you finally stopped. "Okay you ready for this?" JJ asked.

"More than ready."

"Okay, so I thought we could use an escape."

Behind a couple trees was a fort. There was an air mattress and tons of blankets. There was a little hut with fairy lights and candles everywhere. It was stunning. It was your own slice of heaven.

"What do you think?"

"You- you did all this?"

"Yep."

"JJ, it's amazing I love it I can't believe you did this. I'm so lucky to have you," you gushed.

"Well I wanted something that was ours," JJ mentioned.

"This this is perfect," you ran in and sat down.

JJ followed you and sat down. You were taking it all in. You couldn't believe your boyfriend did all this for you. It must of been a lot of work. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you," you recalled.

"Yes but you can tell me again."

"I love you," you stated.

"I love you more," JJ responded.

The two of you stayed huddled and bundled up together in your fort. The two of you laughed and talked and enjoyed each other's company. It was the little things in life that meant the most to you. And now that you had JJ you had everything you've ever wanted.

We'll never be as young as we are now

As young as we are now

As young as we are now

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated 

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.” 

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!” 

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

[harunayuuka2060]

Twst Unveil Event Part 7

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! How are you feeling?

Yuurin: I'm feeling better now after Leona-senpai forced me to take a nap.

Rook: *chuckles* As expected from Roi des Lions! He knows how to look after his underclassmen!

Yuurin: Anyway, Rook-senpai, our match is about to start. What are you doing here?

Rook: I'm here to wish you luck, Monsieur Tranquille.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: What place have you chosen, senpai?

Rook: The forest of nymphs.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Are you alright, senpai?

Rook: Why, yes! Monsieur Tranquille! Why do you ask?

Yuurin: Nymphs wouldn't normally allow strangers in their personal space.

Rook: Well, yes. However, after knowing that I am an acquaintance of yours, they have asked me of one thing.

Yuurin: And that is?

Rook: Your photo, Monsieur Tranquille!

Yuurin: ...

Rook: *smiling*

Philomela: It's time for our last match! Fighters! Are you ready?!

Rook: Oui!

Yuurin: Yes.

Malleus: I wonder what kind of place Hunt has chosen.

Silver: It's a forest.

Floyd: Eh~? A forest~?

Sebek: Hmph! It's nothing unique like any of us had chosen!

Philomela: *laughs* Nothing special, eh?

Philomela: Rook Hunt had to ask permission from the nymphs before he was granted an access!

Malleus: Oh. Is that so?

Philomela: Yes. And ah! It's Yuurin's favorite place!

Silver: Favorite place?

Philomela: *laughs* You will find out why!

*The forest of the nymphs*

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: Yuurin~

The nymphs: Yuuuriiiinnn~

Leona: *frowns*

Jack: There are voices calling her but I see no one there.

Ruggie: And on top of that, Rook is not on sight too.

Leona: That bastard is hiding. Grr.

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: Yuurin~ Forget about the match and let's play~

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: No, thank you. But I'll accept your invitation some other time.

The nymphs: You used to play with us when you were little...

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: If you lose against the French, will you play with us?

Leona: What?! They're going to support Rook?!

Ruggie: Hey, Philomela! I thought that forest was Yuurin's favorite place?!

Philomela: Of course! That's the place where he always goes missing!

Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: HUH?!

Jade: Oh dear.

Philomela: Though that was before. Yuurin can navigate the forest now even if it changes its path.

Leona: *sarcastically* Wow, thanks, that's reassuring.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes. And I'll have an easy time losing if you disclose his location.

The nymphs: *giggles* Oh, but we promised not to tell.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I see.

Yuurin: He won't show himself until it's the right time.

Philomela and the others: *watches Yuurin as she started to search for Rook*

Epel: Wow...! Yuurin is jumping on branches!

Floyd: Go, damselfish~!

Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: ...

Sebek and Silver: ...

Malleus: Hunt is chasing him.

Jade: Indeed.

Epel: Huh? Where?

Rook: *quietly follows Yuurin*

Rook: *chuckles to himself*

Yuurin: *sensing that she's being followed; decided to change route* *comes down from the trees and starts running*

The nymphs: Yuurin~

Yuurin: I need to find a clearing.

Rook: *starts to quicken his pace*

Yuurin: !!!

Rook: *begins shooting arrows while in pursuit of her*

Yuurin: *dodges them*

Leona: ROOK!

Jack: Isn't that against the rules?!

Philomela: Nope.

Jack: ...

Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: *are getting frustrated*

Malleus: Ten minutes have already wasted.

Silver: Yes. Time is flying.

Sebek: ...

Sebek: It would be unfortunate if Yuurin loses in this match.

Floyd: Eh~ You're just underestimating damselfish, crocodile~.

Sebek: DON'T CALL ME CROCODILE!

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! Your stamina is really impressive!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: This can't do.

Rook: Hm?

Yuurin: *suddenly stops and faces Rook*

Rook: !!!

Yuurin: Please forgive me, but I'll have to make a clearing! *uses her wind magic to clear part of the forest*

Rook: Whoa...

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: You'll pay for this, Yuurin...

Yuurin: I'm really sorry.

Jade: My, that was a strong wind.

Epel: But it didn't affect Rook-senpai!

Philomela: That's because he wasn't the target.

Leona: ...

Leona: Tch. *mutters* She should've sent him flying.

Ruggie and Jack: *hearing him* But she would get disqualified...

Yuurin: Rook-senpai, I have set the stage for us.

Rook: ...

Rook: *smiles* I appreciate the gesture, Monsieur Tranquille.

Yuurin: *in her fighting stance*

Rook: *approaches her quickly, aiming to grab her*

Yuurin: *dodges, then realizes that it was a feint*

Yuurin: Huh?

Rook: *sneaks behind her; doing a Full Nelson Hold* *lifting her off the ground*

Yuurin: !!!

Floyd: Eh~?! He's copying my move!

Jade: *chuckles* However, it looks more effective when he's doing it.

Floyd: *pouts*

Floyd: Damselfish! Do something and escape the hold!

Rook: *chuckles* You're doing well, Monsieur Tranquille. *tightens the hold*

Yuurin: ...

Rook: You won't even show that you're struggling?

Rook: There is no shame in that.

Yuurin: Rook-senpai, you are forgetting...

Yuurin: That I'm not your prey.

Rook: Eh?

Yuurin: *the muscles in her arms become more visible and prominent as she grabs his hands, breaking them apart*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille, you know very well that our strength is—

Rook: *is losing the hold*

Rook: —different...

Yuurin: *successfully broke free from him*

Rook: ...

Leona: HAHA! YOU'RE DOOMED, ROOK!

Jack and Ruggie: ...

Malleus: I've never seen Kingscholar this enthusiastic before.

Epel: Haha... Me too.

Yuurin: *about to take revenge on Rook*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! We can talk this out!

Yuurin: No.

Rook: But—

Yuurin: !!!

Yuurin: *falls to her knees*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille?

Yuurin: ...

Philomela: THE MATCH IS OVER! IT'S A TIE!

Ruggie: Huh? What happened?

Philomela: The nymphs have intervened.

Philomela: Look.

The nymphs: *have surrounded Rook and Yuurin; with a few holding Yuurin in place*

Leona: Are they going to hurt him?!

Philomela: Hm. Fortunately, his godmothers are there. I'm sure they will just lecture him for destroying part of the forest.

Everyone: Oh...

Leona: How about Rook?

Philomela: They will let him leave.

Philomela: Anyway! That's all for our wrestling competition!

Philomela: Too bad Yuurin wasn't able to finish it off! *laughs*

Them: ...

Yuurin: *has returned with kiss marks all over her face*

Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: ...

Leona: Looks like they gave you lots of smooches, huh?

Yuurin: *nods*

Leona: ...

Leona: *laughs*

Ruggie and Jack: *sigh*

Philomela: I thank everyone for participating in this wrestling match! I had fun watching you all!

The audience: *cheers*

Philomela: And now that it's over! It's time for celebration!

Philomela: Eat! Dance! And drink all you want!

The students: YEAH!!!

Yuurin: ...

Silver: Everyone is lively.

Yuurin: Oh, hello, Silver-senpai.

Sebek: Hmph! Why did we have to change our clothes?!

Floyd: Ooh~ It's breezy~.

Rook: You look gorgeous, Monsieur Tranquille!

Leona: Hey! Fuck off, Rook!

Malleus: Congratulations, Yuurin.

Yuurin: Thank you, Malleus-senpai. But I didn't win.

Jade: It's a tie; however you could count that as a win since Rook Hunt asked you to talk. *chuckles*

Rook: Oui! If not for the nymphs, I would've lost!

Epel: Yeah... Yuurin looked like he was about to beat Rook in a pulp.

Ruggie: Yeah! Shishishi!

Jack: Yuurin, we should do our own wrestling match next time.

Yuurin: Sure.

Philomela: YUURIN! COME HERE AND SING A SONG FOR US!

Yuurin: ...

Everyone: You sing?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes. But the songs I know are not suited for this occasion.

Philomela: YUURIN!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *sighs* What do you want me to sing?

Philomela: "DONE FOR" AND "THERE ARE OTHER WAYS" FROM THE EPIC MUSICAL!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Are you kidding me?

Epel, Ruggie, and Floyd: *searches the songs and lyrics* Oh...

Silver: What kind of song is it?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: You'll know.

Them: *after hearing the lyrics*

Them: ...

Leona: What in the world—

Epel: His voice is so good!

Floyd: Yeah~! I feel like I'm being seduced~.

Sebek: Huh! If you were in Odysseus's position, you have already failed!

Silver: ...

Malleus: Hmm... Isn't the one singing with Yuurin the nymph from the enchanted garden?

Them: ...

Ruggie: Damn— No wonder she's feeling it!

[erinwantstowrite]

Hey! :) I’ve really been wanting to get into reading comics but I have no idea where to start 🥲

Do you have any recommendations or references for how to start reading about different dc characters? I mainly want to start reading about batman and the rest of his clan but I want to branch out to other characters as well

hi!! i've gotten this question a lot and i'm so sorry it's taken me so long to answer all of y'all! but i wanted to make sure if i made a list, it would be with the best references i could find, and that it made sense for even a beginner

what i've found is that... there's apparently no right answer? mostly, you'll find people recommending you to start with their favorite collections, like Batman: Hush, etc etc. from what i've been able to tell, getting into comics is about choosing one that sounds the most interesting to you, and going from there. if you like the collection you've picked up, then someone will recommend another collection, so on. a lot of people recommend that you start with a certain character, someone that you really like. so if Tim Drake is calling to you like many... many people, then you can find a reading guide for him and pick and choose from a collection. like this one from this blogger that helped me. one of my favorite characters is Cassandra Cain (though I don't write her as often, which kind of happens when I really like a character?). she has a Batgirl run!! Batgirl #1. (((please note that this link takes you to readallcomics.com, which you should use an adblocker for if you want to use this website. however!! it is very different from readcomics.com))) look how cool she is!!

however I personally like to try and read in chronological order because I don't like missing out on anything. in my search, i found an amazingly ordered, extensive website called comicbookherald.com

i started using this because they have a list in chronological order for many, many, many characters in the DC universe:

https://www.comicbookherald.com/reading-dc-comics/

one of the very first options on this list is Batman (listed in alphabetical), and when you click on him, you'll find exactly what you're looking for:

https://www.comicbookherald.com/reading-dc-comics/batman-reading-order/

the links on the actual titles in the list will take you to Amazon to buy the comic, but there are other ways to find these comics either online (like seen above with Batgirl #1) or through your local library (recommended). if your library doesn't have them, you might be able to find them at a nearby one or you can ask the librarian how a request works. they'd probably be happy to get it for you (support your local libraries!!!) you might find that you prefer going to a comic shop, and that's great too

i also looked up the publication history of the Batman comics using Wikipedia, just to make sure that I knew what i was doing, and i started with the very first on the list: Detective Comics #27. this is Bruce Wayne/Batman's very first appearance.

i also found some helpful videos that i personally have tried to follow:

"BATMAN 101: A GUIDE TO HELP YOU START READING BATMAN COMICS!" by History of the Batman

"Where to Start Reading Batman Comics | Best Batman Comics for Beginners in Collected Editions!" by Near Mint Condition

the issue is that it's pretty hard to read all of the characters at once and stay in order, which means you'll probably want to stick to reading one character at a time and piecing it together like that. but if you're feeling brave, i'd cross reference the years and publication history and go by the order of when each character shows up: start by reading Batman, and when Dick Grayson appears, look up his list and see how the publication history looks, and i guess start trying to read them side by side? the same would go for when Jason appears, then Tim, etc etc. but this might be VERY difficult, so i am very much recommending beginners to start by reading Batman's and branch out from there

my personal favorite right now is Batman & Robin: Year One because Dick Grayson is in it and he's so cute here in his Robin days

edit: adding on this ask i got about hoopla

[sparklykat-hideoutenthusiast]

I've seen people doing an intro post so I suppose I should do the same right? I have no idea how to do this, I'm just winging it :3

INTRO POST TIME WOOO!!

[last updated: sat dec 7th at 7:18 PM 2024]

(I update this often, a reread of it every now and then would be greatly appreciated!)

Maybe every week/month depending on your time scale? ↑

Follow my other blog where I reblog a bunch of stuff and things for the full experience of my personality and interests! @eckos-reblogs :3

@everytime-i-reach-the-postlimit ←Exactly as the name entails

@nature-is-mystical ←is my other random blog that you can follow as well if you want.

that blog is just for reblogging nature stuff and posting nature stuff. (Occasionally rhymes come with it ig)

side blog for fanart!: @sonar-fanart-hall

I'm always working on making reference sheets for OCs ^^

Chill dude side blog: @cool-dudes-official

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

I will continue to edit this, probably for the rest of time to get it right since I'm a slight perfectionist lol

Hello! I've been an artist for around 5 to 6 years, and I still kinda suck at it! I do traditional art normally but I've been branching out to digital art as well. I mostly draw animals, anthropomorphic creatures, creatures in general, whatever beautifully ugly faces I can come up with, and sometimes human faces!

I classify as a furry but do not reblog a ton of furry stuff nor do I have a fursuit. I just like drawing and seeing anthropomorphic animals :3

Furries, Therians, anyone of lgbtq+ community (including ace people cuz apparently there's a debate about that), weirdos (but NOT in the gross way), and more are welcome on my blog! :3 ❤️ (you're kinda automatically welcome if you're kind anyway lol but whatevs :3)

Tags and stuff! To help you find stuff in my blog better through search :)

#Ecko draws -exactly as is obvious, it will be for when I make art, digital or traditional.

#Echo Rambles -For posts of mine that include mainly me talking about random stuff

#Echo rants - for when I rant. Similar to #Echo rambles but different..

#Echo answers - For when I answer asks!! :D

#The Clowder seeks - For when you guys ask me stuff!

#Mama Change - For when I mention my mom. (Her name is change..or it's more of a nickname but no one calls her by her actual name except for professional/job people like a dentist or something)

#Echo asks - For when I ask questions :3 lol

#Eckos moots <3 - for interactions with moots, obviously 🙄 (I love y'all sm)

#Ecko irl - me irl

My main Media for traditional art is, pens, pencil, gel pens, paint markers (posca) and normal markers! I hope to soon branch out to ink! (Maybe one day you'll get to see some watercolor stuff from me. It's not that good of watercolor art and I don't enjoy painting too much tbh)

Anatomy You say? Don't know her 😔

If you are interested, I do art requests! It's not guaranteed to be good or to be done quickly but I will try my very best every time. You can even request multiple times if you'd like! Like a ton of times! I really don't mind!

You can also request art of fandoms I'm not in but make sure to give me a good reference or the drawing will look off :3

Art requests open until further notice.

If there's something I don't mention here that you're wondering if I can draw or not, give me an ask in my inbox and I'll let you know! (Pls, I'm friendly I swear)

You can also dm me if you'd like but I'd prefer the askbox instead (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

I can't draw/don't want to draw: items, anatomy, bodies (unless you want the equivalent of a boxy stick figure), rendering, lighting, dragons (without a reference), romance/NSFW (no, just no.), hands, human legs (for the life of me 😭), +more

I can draw/like to draw: faces, animals (mostly cat related ones but you can request any animal and I'll at least try to draw it.), different hair styles (only with a reference), eye bags (I think they're pretty lol), dragons (only with a good reference), gore (not the best at it but I'll will try my best to make something nice and bloody for ya!), +more!

My name is Ecko and it's my preferred name but you can refer to me as Melleona (my OC) or by a nickname as well if you'd like! (just please ask me first if you want to use a nickname as I'm bad with setting boundaries.)

My pronouns are She/Her but feel free to refer to me as it/it's! :3

Speaking of which! This is my OC, Melleona:

She is 14 years old, she is introverted and blunt but also shy and insecure. She has anxiety, dealt with a bit of depression, and she's very casual as well as lazy (like me lol)

She's half Cat, she has greyish blue eyes (not visible in the drawing), slightly blueish black hair that's long enough to reach her ankles, she has a mushroom themed party hat, and some wicked whiskers!

If there's anything you'd like to ask me about her or ask her, go ahead and ask away! I love anons and normal asks! ❤️❤️❤️ (There is a slight filter on the drawing. I'll edit this later and put her color palette below ❤️)

I'm a minor! Mind your words, don't send me gross/weird asks or messages. (I've already had a few people message me asking for my age, a picture of me, and my sexuality. No, I will not be sharing my real appearance on here. my age? Minor, that's all you need to know. My sexuality? I don't know and you don't need to know either, respectfully ^^❤️)

IDC if I post something slightly suggestive or that says I know about 18+ themes. I posted it, not someone saying something to me of those themes. Sure, I understand the stuff but It really doesn't matter now does it? It just means I understand enough to know you shouldn't be saying that stuff to me. (Boundaries ✨)

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

I do half-curse in posts from time to time. I do censor it a bit tho, like "f7ck" for example. Hope ya don't mind (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

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

I'd appreciate it if people reblogged my art!

I don't appreciate reposting it however.

Just in case you don't know what the difference between reposting rather than reblogging: it's when you (typically) take a screenshot of the art, and then repost it on either Tumblr or a different app rather than hitting the reblog button!

While this has never happened to me personally, I do feel like it's worth mentioning.

Oh, and, don't under a circumstance feed my art to AI. I can forgive reposting my art. I put out there for people to see not to get fame from it but under no circumstances EVER will I allow feeding my art to AI. It is not human. It does not make art.

AI artists don't exist unless it's used ONLY to assist with a process that is still mostly YOUR OWN SKILLS THAT YOU'VE CULTIVATED OVER TIME. AI is NOT art but it can HELP with art.

ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ

don't dm asking me to commission from you. like said before, I don't have money bc I'm a minor + I don't like being pestered for me commission you. talk to me like a person, not an ATM.

If I want to commission someone, I will dm them and even then, I'm most likely to commission art from a friend to support them.

I support the lgbtq+ community! And I don't discriminate against race. I really shouldn't have to say this. (˘⁠･⁠_⁠･⁠˘)

I will respond to money asks with "!!" And that's it. I don't have money and even if I did I don't got any money to spare. I'm broke and struggling too. Not to mention, I'm a minor and can't just go out and get the stuff. I hope you understand and I wish you all the best!❤️❤️❤️

Some games and shows and stuff I like:

Shows and stuff: Rick and Morty, adventure time, lost in space, bsd (never watched it but I've seen enough of it on the Internet to know a bit about it. Very interesting :3), Some of the Life Minecraft series, httyd, doctor who, and more!

Games/fandoms: Yonder(Yonder Cloud Catcher Chronicles.), Minecraft, the Stanley parable, tiny bit of South Park, cotl, MLP(childish I know but I don't care. I love them), creepypasta, SCPs, Trevor Henderson's creatures (mostly cartoon cat), plants vs zombies, fran bow, little misfortune, and more!

Stuff and things (hobbies?): Art, apparently I make rhymes now too??, rollerblading, climbing, Hiking (iffy), sleeping, being annoying+lazy, doom scrolling, interacting with people, and more!

(I'm not really in any fandoms really..kinda like on the edge of being in each and every fandom I come across..)

General facts about me! Yippee!

I think eye bags and wrinkles are pretty (odd, I know lol), I live in a bus (not decked out like you see on social media though. We just live in a bus lol), I live with my ma (my dad is my step dad and he and my mom just broke up psooo ye), I blank out a lot and just stare at people for no reason (which freaks them out), I have greyish blue eyes (a long with some, I'm pretty sure permanent eye bags lol), I get energy right before nighttime mostly (and then it disappears as soon as it reaches around 11 pm to 12 am), My favorite color is maroon (and any type of blue along with orange and yellow and forest green..mostly just comfy vibe colors tbh but maroon is a fixed piece), my favorite animal is a cat (although I have a dog. Muffin doesn't count as a dog, she's practically human. Apart of the family.), and more!

(I'll update this as I go)

[I will block as I see fit]

Do not interact with my blog if: You're racist, you only or mostly have sexual themes on your own blog (I apologize but it makes me uncomfortable. Have some other interests and it might make me less uncomfortable ^^), if you in general just enjoy hating on people for no reason (I like to make my area a safe space for people) if you're a Zoophile (No explanation really needed but animals can't consent.) (more will be added later when I think of what to add)

Don't dm me unless you're a moot or you say your intentions within the first 1-3 messages. (moots that I've interacted with can send me a dm unprompted with stated intentions anytime they'd like. Special privileges ✨)

(Added a specific part of that bc a moot felt they were making me uncomfortable by having such themes on their blog. I didn't really realize at first but yes that does make slightly uncomfortable but I don't really care as long as you have other interests. If s3x is your only interest, it weirds me out to have those types of people interact with me. Just know you're all good moot, you're not the type of person I was aiming it at. There are other people that just don't think about anything else but $ex and relationships that creep me out and you are not one of them. ^^❤️)

Things about me, (random stuff): I am cringe from time to time, my fav colors are maroon and any kind of blue, orange is nice too though,

I appreciate any and all constructive criticism. IDC if it sounds rude and might hurt my feelings, TELL ME so I can help better myself and my blog! I'm dum and will most likely not notice I'm doing something weird or anything :P <3

•Send me asks! Wanna to hug one of my OCs, Want to slap the sh1t out of one of em, Want to introduce me to a new (or old) fandom I don't know of but you think I might be interested in, Want to say hi, Want to give a music suggestion, send an ask!

I LOVE interaction and if possible, I want to be busy with asks at all times so send a ton!

•Moots:

@theachskid @voidsweirdthoughts @burningbutter @rafrfr @rateater2000

@footlongdingledong @ender-the-insomniac @thistlebriar @rspoetry @virtualcroissantflapcolor

@jawdoesstuff @storythesilly @yourfavoritecuntist @chamber-of-voices @i-draw-things

@2oo7xddd @catsreblogging @silli-billy15 @totally-not-a-commie @khloethecatsworld

@1nd13gh0st @cur1os1tyk1lledme @nonbinaryriverclan @ilove-fanart-and-lore405 @hermitchild

@my-mom-named-me-duck @hermitchild

@williamsart12345 @lilytheaxoltollover @twobraincellsremaining @nn-the-doodle @emmajasonartz

@bugba-bugbee @railway323 @xho-the-scribble @asqadia-banthen @nasthesilly @ceaselessbackflips

@the-anxious-acrobat @justuravghazbin @callmekiyo24 @maybeyoullfindthissomeday

@sensehumor ♥️

+any future moots/one's I might have forgotten (I hope I wouldn't forget anyone 🥲)

If you don't like being tagged in tag games, let me know and I'll move your name over here cuz I copy paste the ones above for tagging in stuff: (nothing here yet!)

Moot side blogs: @thistlebriar-tags @my-dad-named-me-goose @mysterious-other-being @

Btw, moot/friend privileges: tagging me in whatever the heck you want, sending nonstop and possibly annoying asks, dming me and having a convo at random, +more! I love all y'all and am more than happy to interact ❤️

My art ↑

Yippee!! That's all for now folks! ❤️

I'll update this whole thing as I go, any questions, just send an ask and I'll update this with the answer as well as you know- replying in general lol :3

I seem incredibly childish in this intro post and my general posts but do know, I am over 12 years of age lmao 🤣

I'mma keep some notes here as well... mostly for tone stuffs cuz I can't remember these 😭

/lh = lighthearted

/j = joking

/hj = half joking

[pineconepie]

bratty reader and the dads? I can already imagine Vincent feeding into it as a joke and then being annoyed when it bites him in the ass lol

I got a few similar asks to this one haha. Oh, and you're 100% correct about Vincent LOL

.

Octavian would find it amusing and cute, but not enough to indulge your behaviors, at least not most of the time. You should expect the "calm dad voice" laced with poison, like "I'm sorry?" "Are you sure you wanted to say that?" etc. etc.

He'd give you many chances before he either tells you to go to your room or sit in the corner to think about what you've done.

Worst case scenario, he'll make you write a formal letter of apology.

.

Vincent thinks its cute and will humor it at first, even egging you on by teasing you, but it does wear thin after a certain point and he'll give you a warning.

If you still continue acting out, he'll drag you to your room and make you stay there for an hour or so to think about what you did.

Worst case scenario he'll wash your mouth out with soap and ask for an apology after. Then he'd be cooing and babying you once again, especially if you're crying.

.

Indigo is confused. Merfolk don't typically have such attitudes, but even more strange to him, he doesn't know how to fix it.

"Do you hate Papa now?? What did I do wrong??" "Don't look at me like that, please... you're breaking my heart, little one, just tell me what I did wrong..."

He'd start crying if it continues, but he'd try to appease you by bringing you extra gifts and cuddles, even if you push him away. He hates the idea of punishing you, so at most he'll just drag you to the nest for snuggles, thinking its the only way to make you calm down. Personal space is not his strong suit.

.

Magnus won't tolerate any sort of disobedience from his hatchling. You will behave, that is simply the law. He will scold you in a very stern voice, and if that doesn't work, worse case scenario is he'll pick you up by the hem of your shirt and place you somewhere scary, like a high branch or close to a wolves den.

He'd be watching to make sure you don't actually get hurt, but he hopes the fear will make you realize you need him because he is your father.

What do you mean this is a bad parenting tactic?? All dragonkind used it on their little ones!

.

Seradiel adores a bratty reader <3 he wants you to act up, because he wants you to act like the baby he remembers and throw tantrums. That means you've fully embraced him as your parent, right??

And obviously throwing a tantrum means you need his guidance.

He would do a good job hiding the adoration he feels from you acting bratty, and he'll scold you accordingly, putting you in time out or taking away your electronics so you have to spend more time with Papa.