#Oh the angst is cause they're enemies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kyri45 · 3 months ago

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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 08/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like in cannon baby MK was the kind of kid to eat glue, mainly because he hatched from a rock and doesn't know what anything is.

isn’t it like how all babies are? I think I also used to eat glue

@purpleprinceblood ha chiesto: In the spicynoodles bit where you explain how Red Son was charmed by Mk's beautiful personality and kind nature (/silly), you said Mk is Demi sexual Do you have other sexuality headcanons for the cast, or is it just "they're gay for each other"?

Pan for Mei, Bi for Redson, both Wukong and Macaque are in a way pan, in the sense that they don’t really care about gender, but are only gay for each other.

@kehideni ha chiesto: Whatever happened with never drawing a background ever again? :D On a more serious note: may we know the exact relation of DBK and Chiyou(did i spell that right?)? I'm just the nosy type :3

Chiyou has 72 brothers, one of them is an ancestor of DBK

@marcusalexander ha chiesto: I have a question is spider queen in your comic, and if so, is she like a part of the team or enemy or anuite? I'm just curious since she isn't that evil. By the way, I love your comic shadowpeach parents

The AU is set after S5, so I guess she’s enemy

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque HAS to be doing a little happy dance in the bio parents AU that murder isn’t considered distinct from self-defense Imagine being like… a legitimate threat to the world around you, and getting put down to defend it, and then being hailed as “the less bad one” because you were killed But this also means that MK probably views himself as a murdered for killing the LBD/Azure Lion too cause again “killing in self defense/defense of others= murder

most likely MK feels super duper guilty for what he did, and will continue to be until he get some extra comfort.

@goldenthecat ha chiesto: I'm wondering, since you watch lmk do you watch other Lego shows too? Like Ninjago or friends

does having saw the ninjago movie and a 4 hours video essay recap about the first 14 season count?

@haruwashere29 ha chiesto: Did wukong put his head over macaque’s chest to hear his heartbeat? 😭😭😭

OH OK NOW WE ARE ON WITH THE ANGST. YES 100%

Anonimo ha chiesto: You said Wukong is warm , change my mind that macaque has absolutely put his cold feet straight on wukongs back while he was sleeping not just cause he was cold but because he thought it was funny

hehe he has cold feet poor boy.

@og-glitch-punk ha chiesto: I'm haunting you at thisnpoint im so sorry but your lmk comic gives ideas and thoughts bro lmao /gen SO HERES ANITHER THOUGHT... If you technically think about it, MK is basically an clone (not but words are EHHH) of Sun wukong because they came from the sane rock. But what about our spooky Macaque? We have no knowledge of how he came to be but we all may assume it's the same way with MK and Wukong. but.. BUT. If Macaque had his own stone somewhere in the shadows then what if there's an basically MK but Macaque verison? Even if not, that would be wild to think about lol

like a slightly more emo version of MK? Something like the OK KO situation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello I just wanted to say I'M IN LOVE WITH YOUR COMIC it's sooooo good I'm obsessed and the recent part... I have no word only emotion Even though I use Tumblr for a while I still getting use to it so.. do you know any other Shadowpeach comics? I couldn't find any 😅

mmmm @kristea9ay is doing a shadowpeach parent story that’s really cute!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I NEED to see wukong and macaque having a cute moment and accidentally touch each others tails yk? 🥺🥺🥺 (and mk quitting is a stab to the chest, i dont think there is anything worse in store... Right?... RIGHT?!)

at this point they ain’t touching the tails “accidentally” anymore these bitches are too gay I can’t anymore-

@amyrosewithoutshadow ha chiesto: I think the next one that will need Sandy is Wukong, lol I always thought about one thing, how Wukong deal with traumas and crises? We only saw him dealing with it during his sleep, but what about a daylight crises? Love your art 💞

he has a “I can do it with a broken heart”-by-taylor-Swift-masking situation.

@alizardonfire ha chiesto: I understand why MK doesn't want to be their successor mostly because I think he needs time to think about all of it. There's a lot to unpack! I love how wukongs more shocked about it. And I think macaque kinda saw it coming?

i think Mac forseen that MK would have changed his view on Wukong for sure. But he didn’t know in which way.

@siennabanana ha chiesto: HDBDJDBDHSHDV NEW HEADCANON UNLOCKED: sometimes he misses his human form but he doesn’t tell wukong and macaque bc he feels like that would be an insult to them and plus he still thinks his monkey form is cool but eughhh dysphoriaa

awwww he might be sometimes! Good thing they are starting to hang out outside FFM as well!

@blazerratbluefire-blog ha chiesto: If Wukong ever manages to be able to control his kaiju form, I could easily see Macaque's kaiju form using him as a bed, and along comes MK wanting in on the action. Then, he proceeds to lay on top of Macaque, squishing him with his kaiju and making a wholesome monkey family bonding session. With Wukonh laughing that Macaque is being squished. Just a funny thought I had.

oh my I think he would be waaayyy to big for the other two ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: For your LMK shadowpeach AU will Ironfan be making up for all of MK's birthdays she missed? (Dropping off a mountain of presents at FFM?) (My partner joked she would give Redson in a box, not in a bow or anything just in an open box like a cat.)

she would probably make a courtnapping room for her son to gift him, and Red Son would die from embarrassment right there.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Dose macaque sometimes cook for MK and wukong since wukong tends to eat his fur/hair and macaque fonts approve of it

I think yes, he would cook probably really basics but nutrient-full meals, the few times they don’t eat noodle from pigsy shop

Anonimo ha chiesto: TCan we get Red Son and MK Angst because Red Son technology tried to kill MK a lot of times?

just bc of the AU main plot I don’t think so, also bc at this point traffic light trio are all friends with each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Speaking of birthdays, I assume Pigsy and Tang celebrate when MK showed up in their life or a random day when MK first asked about his birthday. Would Wukong and Macaque ask Nuwa the day he was put in the rock/broken out of it (I assume he came out and was immediately brought to Pigsy the same day but idk) or is that sort of a sore subject still, with the whole harbinger thing?

I think the best thing would be to celebrate it the day they found it!

@yuk1yun ha chiesto: Giuro che è un mese che provo a rendere il mio cosplay di mk simile alla tua au (perché anche se è semplice è stupendo), ma non so come fare le orecchie... Sono di nuovo qui per dirti quanto adoro la rua au btw :)

ADUYDJYTDY SE HAI BISOGNO DI RIFERIMENTI FAMMI SAPERE! E MANDAMI IL RISULTATO QUANDO HAI FINITO!!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I'm just waiting until Mk realizes the other things Wukong and Macaque did, yk like what Sun did to Redson, what Mac did to some of the monkeys all that

I think with time MK will slowly learn everything, but for example I guess now Red Son and Wukong are at truce

Anonimo ha chiesto: I'm just obsessed with your shadowpeach comics!!✨✨ But heey~ how about bai he!? l think it will be super amazing if add her in the future to this little cute monkeys family

awww baby!! I hope she went back to her family honestly! But I also hope sometimes she visits MK!

@yainmy ha chiesto: Oh gods I when I found this bio parents au I got HOOKED. I love it so much and the shenanigans and the angst are just *chef's kiss*. I have some curious questions if you don't mind me asking, but if a similar situation happens in the future like when mk got baby-fied, but instead his forms get split up (human and monkey demon) would he have that child crisis of fear "if im not this certain way they wont want me as theirs anymore", considering he is still learning about the whole monkey business? Also in a shenanigans sort of question, I don't remember how stone monkeys are made in their world but it would be hilarious if mk asked wukong and macaque that since they both are male and they technically "had" him then does that mean they can give him a sibling if they wanted? Sorry if it's to long of an ask 😅

i think MK would mostly feel a sense of loss for the fact that in a way, things should have been like this, like when he “hatched” Wukong probably would have found him if it wasn’t for the fact someone or something brought it to Pigsy shop. He would have grown up with someone who could tell him how to be a stone Monkey and teach him his power. Surely, I think Wukong wouldn’t have been as good as a parent as Pigsy, and MK doesn’t regret a bit how things actually ended up happening, but it’s a bit of a case of “sometimes I imagine how my life would have been if it went this way”

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know it's a bit out of the scope of your comic, but I'm wondering if Mei's design is just stylistic additions as if they were always there due to her dragon heritage, or if you have any ideas of scenes that took place as she grew more dragon features?

she started to grow more and more into them after she was accepted by her family sword and started to use her dragon form more and more.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you ever think Macaque and Wukong argue over who the little monkeys on the mountain like more? Like Im 100% sure Macaque wouldn't really care but the idea of not being the favorite bothers Wukong

the monkeys go crazy for soft fur Mamacaque. Wukong will always be pissed at this.

@snsp6 ha chiesto: do u like the hc that Mac has naturally snow-white fur? cs when u showed him wo glamours I realized that u don’t rlly color anything so I wanted to ask if it was still black or some type of mix between the two

akjdkajsbkaj I love for that shit YES. Yeah I don’t really colour my comics but yeah he cover it with glamour

Anonimo ha chiesto: I don't think MK ever really acknowledged that Wukong is a person, still a glorified deity. As mentioned MK hasn't really read the actual book and really didn't know his flawed side. MK has seen the worst parts of Macaque and still accepted him.

and now he knows about Wukong worst oarts and still accept him :D

@alistairliddell ha chiesto: What is FFM?

Flower Fruit Mountain

#ask box #shadowpeach bio parents au

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hismourningflower · 9 months ago

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YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HER | genshin impact fanfiction. zhongli x gn!reader — angst, hurt/no comfort, hanahaki disease, mentions of blood, gagging, death, decomposition, dealing with grief and guilt. not proofread or edited.

idle chatter. this is also a reupload from my old blog... i'm such a thief gasp <3 library waiting list. @lovingluxury @dumbificat @starryshinyskies @ryuryuryuyurboat @ainescribe @bfjax @soleillunne @sangoqueenkoko

aventurine's addition. "alexi will forget if i don't remind her - here is the link to 'you're not her,' the first part of this angst."

the scene haunts him vividly. it creeps into every crevice of his mind, every nerve that has harboured all the knowledge he could ever acquire over these past centuries; it affects his psyche. in the darkness behind his eyelids - should he be brave enough to dare let his eyelashes sink shut - he sees every detail left of his beloved - you.

the guilt eats at him, nagging at his bones and tearing at his flesh, leaving only remnants of searing pains when he can't help but blame himself that he let it get this far - that he even let it happen. it was something so simple that he could avoided, at least that's what he tells himself. zhongli isn't stupid, not when he's walked teyvat this long and seeked enough knowledge for his own curiosity - albeit never comparable to that of the dendro archon. he knows it couldn't have been avoided, for that is why the guilt rips him apart so brutally.

but yet there is one simple way it could have been avoided. he should have never fell in love with you. the thought aches his heart and he finds his grip tightening around the tea cup in his hands, paled knuckles concealed by his oh-so-familiar gloves. amber eyes resembling the cor lapis native to his own country close shut and the horrific scenes creep back in.

the man admits to oversleeping that morning, the comfort of familiar bedsheets drowning him in a warmth incomparable to anything else. his routine with you was a simple one; he was always the last to bed but always the first to rise. zhongli used it as an excuse for you to never see his bare skin, the dark tones that cover his large hands and fade up his arms, decorated in veins of golds and oranges. he would get up and dressed, pulling black gloves over his hands before your eyelashes could even flutter open.

that was the way your relationship had ticked for the months it had been ongoing. that was the way zhongli kept his deepest secrets locked away, thinking it was for the best; it wouldn't cause problems if you knew, you was a mortal. zhongli knew he was facing the sandglass of time when it came to your life in the first place. is that what shattered the sandglass so soon? ending your life with a severed tie that happened too early, taking you from him when he was least prepared?

the bed was empty by the time zhongli awoke. the first fleeting thought that crossed the geo archon's mind was his secrets, his hidden gems - had you seen it all? had you left him? the second thought to cross his mind was in regards to your safety. he was certainly no fool, he knew he had enemies even with the lack of people who knew his true identity. you never rose before him and at least he would have expected you to wake him.

zhongli has traced the corridors and winding paths of your shared house many times. he's taken the stairs so much they're worn from the use of you both - and your guests, when the likes of xiao, hu tao or your friends come to visit. in every footstep, the man has memorised every inch of the house; every painting, every vase, every floorboard and in these steps he takes routinely, he knows the house is never this silent however there's no proof of a break-in. there's no distress, no signs of damage or disruption.

the earth has taken your body for its own in the span of a few hours, vines creeping across your body as if to tie you to the ground. celestia forbid someone tried to give you a proper burial, your clothes and skin stained in a dark red as the blood that flooded out of your mouth hours ago begins to oxidise. it paints the grass surrounding you and in the summer heat of the liyue sun, it creates a foul stench that suffocates the garden you'd spent so much of your time in.

there are flowers beginning to bloom on the vines tethering you to the earth, in shades of white so pure, it pales in comparison to the glaze lilies that had damaged your internal organs so ferociously. the sweet floral scents create a bitter tang in the air mixed with the metallic waft of blood and the unforgettable smell of the unavoidable rot your body was going through in the heat. this is what undeniably lead him to find you.

it makes him gag, turning his head away the second he steps outside into what is usually the clean air of liyue's countryside. his eyes fall to the pile of wilted glaze lilies you'd compiled in the far corner, hidden behind an apple tree you'd been growing. it's beginning to finally bear its fruits. zhongli notes that you will never see your apple tree's first harvest.

it feels as if he's stabbed in the chest when he finally musters the courage to look at you - or rather, what he thinks is you. your cheeks are sunken and your skin is beginning to tighten against muscles and bone, this isn't the you he remembers kissing goodnight last night. this isn't the you that would pepper kisses on his face when he expresses how tired he is after his shifts at the wangsheng funeral parlour.

this isn't who he fell in love with. this wasn't the human he should have never fell in love with because by gods, if there was anyone zhongli should have known to trust the least, it should have been celestia. he was a fool for thinking he could ever get away with loving a mortal, even after faking his death and attempting to step away from the title of the geo archon. he was still immortal up until his eventual erosion. he had still seen centuries past and people die around him.

was this celestia's curse upon you for his own regretful actions? the things he shouldn't have done and most certainly shouldn't have said? the sultry whispers and lingering touches that he knew was wrong from the start? but he loved you. he knew he loved you.

the scene of sharp branches coated in blood twisting and turning out of your mouth is unpleasant and the grass surrounding you is a distasteful red as he falls limp to his knees beside your growth - your corpse. his hands, free from their gloves, fumble with leaves and vines, attempting to pull them clear from your face in his shaking grasp as his thumbs gently wipe under your closed eyes, caked with dry blood.

your name falls from his parted lips when bitter tears sting his eyes for the first time in centuries. there's a raw emotion ripping him to the shreds and that was long buried in the depths of his very being - grief. it swallows him, forcing a choked sob from him as he hunches over what was his lover. he closes his eyes, holding his breath to keep from breathing in that sickening, overwhelming stench as he tries to remember your face from last night.

those distinct features he'd fell in love with, the glitter of your eyes and that smile he loved oh so much - he recalls the times hu tao managed to draw that smile onto your face with her mere presence. zhongli gags at the thought of having to tell her and the others about your death. does he lie again? you passed away in your sleep - but where has lying got him in the past? here.

why hadn't you told him? had baizhu been behind this too? after all this time he assumed the doctor could be classed as a loyal friend, zhongli realises that he was wrong. if he hadn't of kept it a secret, could zhongli have saved your life? the archon grimaces. this is not the time to be doubting the security of the relationships he has with the people around him. even as he contemplates the reasons you kept your disease secret from him, he runs over every thought of loving you.

to him, he would never love anyone or anything as much as he loved you. nothing could ever be comparable to his love for you; not even after all these centuries of aimlessly wandering teyvat and not even for all the future centuries that he would continue to walk, heartbroken and grief-stricken without you by his side for even a few more years.

you should have been her.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

#alexi writes 𓂃 ࣪�� ִֶָ𐀔 #zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #genshin angst #genshin zhongli #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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wreedenthusiast · 1 month ago

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My Top 5 Arcane: League of Legends Ships (with Explanations for their ranks and as to why I ship them)

5. TimeBomb (Jinx/Ekko)

Explanation: I love them, Jinx is my fav and Ekko follows shortly behind. I only wish we got to see that scene where Ekko convinced her to keep living and join the fight was fully developed, I needed so much more of them fr. 😭

4. JayVi (Jayce/Vi)

Explanation: Mmm...the smut possibilities are oh-so deliciously endless with this one. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(Also, I am a Bi Vi truther. Same for Jayce, gotta look out for my fellow Bisexuals out here in these fictional medias.)

3. ZaunDads (Silco/Vander)

Explanation: Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Toxic Old Man Yaoi, Involves Silco, Height Difference, Bear/Twink, Long History Together?!! Need I say MORE?!?!

2. JayVik (Jayce/Viktor)

Explanation: I'm not gonna lie, it took me a whole season to actually ship this. Season 1 Jayvik was just alright in my opinion, since I thought Viktor was a mid character compared to everyone else; who at the time, were significantly more well-written than he was. But then I watched Season 2 and HOLY SHIT, the things that it did for Viktor as a character astounded me. He quickly went from "Mid-But-Forgettable Twink" in my brain to "Arcane's Mechanic Christ", which is my funny way of saying how much I adore him now. Oh yeah, it also made me greatly understand the Jayvik hype, y'all fr won the day this episode came out. Jayvik shippers didn't just eat, they fucking feasted cause my god, they're so beyond platonic, romantic, and even marriage, they are LITERALLY time-destined soulmates.

CaitVi/VICait (Caitlyn/Vi)

Explanation: So much tension, so much banter, so much chemistry, I could rant about these two for hours. Yep, it's no surprised why they're labeled "Piltover's Finest", cause they certainly are. They have it all; from the Angst, to the Fluff, and the Smut (JayVi's superior for that though, in my opinion), these two have got it and I'm sure mostly all of it is well-written.

#wreedcultpists(posts)#arcane #ships #my ships #shipping list #top 5 list #timebomb #jayvik #caitvi #vicait #jayvi #zaundads #juicy juicy

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

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Mistake -141

Based on a request:

I've got a request for you! I got lost in my thoughts and thought of a prompt so sorry if it's a bit jumbled lol So it's like a wrong place wrong time kind of thing where the reader is mistaken for an enemy, and taken to the base. Maybe interrogated a bit before the 141 are told they have the actaul enemy on they way to them and they're like 'then who tf is this....oh shit....'

GN!Reader, angst, civilian!reader, mentions of torture.

141, one of the best military groups the British military has. As always, they have a target to chase after, this time it's in a small town. Their informant let them know it would be a person dressed in a completely different attire than they were used to. You happened to be walking back from your boring job when you passed their location.

"Bravo 0-6, we have eyes on the target," Gaz said over the radio. "Roger that," Price responded, Within seconds you felt as if someone was chasing you. And having that you watched a crime documentary the night before, you quickly thought of a way out. You walked normally but stayed in well-lit areas. The men thought you were just trying to play along with your facade. "Don't let 'em get away," Soap said from his location, his snipe pointed at you. You grabbed your pocket knife and held it in your hand. You walked faster towards a more public road. "Quick, Ghost!" Price ordered. You heard footsteps getting closer and closer.

You ran away, not daring to look back once. You took many detours until you were close to a nearby church, Church service had started but before you could even reach it, Ghost tackled you. "Don't hurt me!" you told him, your hands held high. He took your knife away and pointed his gun at your head, "Why the hell were you running?" You tried to stay calm but two other men approached you, Gaz and Price with their own guns pointed at you. "Soap, you got visual?" Price asked over the radio. "Yes, Sir" was the response, a red dot on your chest. You panicked.

"No please, you are mistaken." your desperate voice pleaded. "That's what they all say." Price growls and Gaz and Ghost drag you back to their temporary base. The entire way there, you cried and begged to be let go. "You have the wrong person, please I'm innocent!" you cried. Soap aggressively cupped your face, "Yer shut the fuck up, ye hear me?"

At base, they threw you to a mattress in an empty room. Wrists tied to the other, ankles tied as well. Your teary face looking at them. Your body is littered with lacerations. Limbs are weak but they wouldn't stop hitting you. You cry, "Please...I beg of you...please stop this" You receive another punch to the abdomen. "Don't you understand we will keep this up, you fucking killer." Gaz held a knife to you. Over the radio, the Delta team came on. "Bravo six, this is Delta 0-5, how copy?"

"This is Bravo six," Price said, his eyes piercing yours. "We found 'em, and are on our way back to base." Ghost gave Price a questioning look. Both men stepped outside of the room, leaving the two sergeants with you. "What do you mean you have the person with you, Delta Five?"

"All features you told us to look for, this person has it and they have admitted to being the subject."

"Fuckin' 'ell." Ghost murmured and rushed inside. "Sergeants, step away." He commanded. "Ghost they are talking now."

"Step away from the civilian, Soap," he advises and approaches you with caution. He kneels in front of you and unties you, "Are you alright?" He asks you with a soft tone. You were too weak to move, all you could do was stare. Whimpers of pain filled the room once Price walked back in and took a look at the injuries they had caused. "C'mon, we have to rush them to the medics." Your vision blurred. In all his years of being a soldier, Price had a day he regretted the most. And that was today, hurting an innocent, treating them as if they were the scum of the Earth. What fucked him up the most? The fact you died on the bed of the medical tent. Your body is weak, blood on the floor and how you died innocent and young, a poor civilian taken hostage, begging to be let out and no one heard.

That day, Task Force 141 lost another piece of their sanity, another stitch with emotions and another shattered glass to the oath they took to protect civilians. Ghost added you to his book of names, the list of all those he lost to war, by his hands, or by the cruelty his job brought. Another soul that Gaz ripped away because of orders, ones he always followed without question. Soap, the one who had the most blood on his hands, now regretted not listening to his instincts.

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https-furina · 1 year ago

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✎ you should have been her. ft. zhongli x fem!reader content. angst, hurt/no comfort, hanahaki disease, mentions of blood, gagging, death, decomposition, dealing with grief and guilt. not proofread or edited. w.c. tba

archon's decree. a second part to my first zhongli hanahaki disease angst. i've started to write gn!reader a lot more in my works however the first part was fem!reader so for this particular angst it'll be labelled as fem!reader - it passes as gn!reader though! i don't explicitly label any gender. taglist - open, send an ask to be added! @ryuryuryuyurboat @soleillunne @rainswept @heiayen @tigerpriestess (i'm tagging you dear because you're the person who mentioned zhongli's reaction on the original!)

you should have been her.

#꒰꒰・♡ cold cases #https-furina #zhongli genshin impact #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin angst #zhongli angst

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xxoxobree · 2 years ago

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You Liked Me, Too

Neteyam X Fem!Omaticaya!Reader

Warnings- Cursing, Angst, Blood, Enemies to Lovers? , slightly suggestive behavior

A/n- I’ve Been Neglecting My Avatar Girlies 🥲

I felt my nose twitch at the anger I felt inside. I was a hunter, just like my father, but I had yet to earn the same recognition he had in our clan. The reason? I was a girl.

The clan was currently applauding Neteyam for being the youngest boy, I emphasize boy ,for a clean strumbeast kill. It was impressive, yes, but I had taken down the same beasts with more ferocity and skill than him, and yet, nobody gave me the same attention.

My mother brushed my shoulder, I looked up at her as she motioned me to clap for the boy. I rolled my eyes before clapping slowly.

I wanted so badly to leave this clown fest that is praising him, rocking back and forth on my feet, waiting to hear the words that we can go home now from our Olo'eyktan. His face glowing with pride, he keeps gesturing for more song, more praise, more incessant noise for his unbearable son. I wanted to scream, to make it all stop.

I looked back up, just to catch the eyes of Neteyam, a shit eating grin on his face. He loved the attention, not just personally, but to get under my skin. Mocking my own inability to hide my disdain for this ceremonial bullshit they're having for him.

I felt the tip of my ears heat up from my annoyance. I sighed, looking away from him, trying not to let him get the better of me. That's exactly what he wants - to rile me up and get me to react. But I won't give him that satisfaction.

The Olo'eyktan finally gave us the okay to leave and I high-tailed it out of there to avail Neteyam. I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins as I raced towards my home. The weight of pretending had finally lifted, and freedom was within my reach.

But just as I started to let my guard down, I heard the sound of someone else running towards me. I turned to see Neteyam,running towards me with a grin on his face.

I tried to keep moving, but his dirty little hands reached out to grab my wrist, bringing me to a stop. I yanked my wrist out of his grip, annoyed at his interruption. He was clearly on his way to brag , but I wasn't interested in hearing it.

I turned to face him, and that was when I saw the smile I had yearned to punch right off his face. "Didn't like the ceremony, Y/n?" he sneered.

I just rolled my eyes at him, staring blankly. He laughed, clearly enjoying himself. I could feel the anger building inside me, but I knew I had to keep calm.

"I enjoyed it very much. I could practically see your head getting bigger," I said rolling my eyes at him before turning my back to walk away again.

"Oh is little Y/n mad she's not as good of a warrior," he said, continuing to walk behind me.

I quickened my pace, hoping I would lose him, praying to Eywa that I wouldn't lose my shit.

"Woah, trying to get rid of me already?" he said, jogging to get in front of me.

"Why the fuck are you following me, Neteyam?"

"Because you're interesting when you're mad. I love it ," he said with a shrug a heinous glint behind his eyes.

I stopped in my tracks hissing at him.

"You're only celebrated cause you're the Olo'eyktan's son and a male, your hunt was mediocre." I spit at him knowing it would make him angry.

I think I was the only person in the whole clan who didn't care about Neteyam's feelings, his accomplishments, him becoming the next Olo'eyktan. I was just as good as him, in some cases, better.

I guess my words were hurtful because he was now inches away from my face, his chest rising and falling, huffing and puffing with anger. I couldn't help but smirk in his face.

"Mad are we?" I said, our lips inches apart.

"You're lucky you're a girl," he said before angrily walking away, his steps shaking the ground.

I chuckled at him, feeling successful in my mission to get back under his skin before I made my way back to my home.

The rivalry between us had started since we were kids, always trying to outdo each other, always trying to be the best. Our parents were high-ranking members in the clan, but I was always overshadowed by the next Olo'eyktan.

I had finally made it back home after this long ass day. As I walked in the door, I found my mother sitting on the floor, carefully weaving new clothing items.

"Do you like it, ma'ite?" She said, holding up the piece for me to see.

"Yes, mother, it's really beautiful." I said, giving her a smile.

"So...I see you've been with Neteyam. That is very good. He's good company." She said.

"We're not friends, mother. He's the biggest skxawng of this clan." I replied, feeling frustrated.

My mother looked up at me with shock on her face. "You must not talk about the future Olo'eyktan like that, Y/n."

I rolled my eyes at her statement. "That's the only thing everyone cares about; his family. Maybe I should be the next Olo'eyktan. I'm just as good as him, better in some cases."

I was met with no response from my mother, just as I expected. "I'm going to bed." I said, getting up and walking over to my mat.

I hoped that sleep could give me some relief from this exhausting day but of course it didn't as I slept my brain was running 100 miles per hour giving me dreams of me and Neteyam's ongoing rivalry.

I was still exhausted when I woke up, my eyes heavy, and my mind foggy. The rivalry between me and Neteyam was taking its toll on me. It seemed that every waking moment was consumed with thoughts of how to beat him, how to get ahead of him. It was a constant battle that had been going on for years, and I was starting to feel like I would never be able to get the upper hand. I knew I never would.

I looked over to my parents that were still asleep and decided that a walk would clear my mind. I got up and walked out into the early morning light. It was still quiet outside, the sun just starting to rise, and the only sound was the chirping of birds.

As I made my way to the serene lake nearby, my mind was consumed with thoughts of yesterday's events. Stress had been building up, and I needed a break from it all. I sat down at the edge of the lake and put my legs in, mindlessly swinging them back and forth as the fish swam by.

I heard a rustling from the nearby bushes and immediately grabbed my knife to defend myself. My heart was racing as I prepared for the worst, but then Neteyam emerged from the bushes. I put my knife back into the sheath and sat back down hoping that he would ignore me and let me have a wonderful day, but of course that would be an impossible task for him.

"Came out early to try and beat me huh?, sorry hun not gonna work," he said with a smirk.

I sighed heavily, knowing that there was no escaping his taunts, he took pleasure in tormenting me. But this time, I was determined not to let him get under my skin.

I turned to face him, my expression stoic. "I didn't come here for you, Neteyam. I just wanted a little peace and quiet."

"I doubt that very much," he said, settling down next to me. "You're always trying to one-up me. But that's okay. I like a little competition."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything. It was pointless to argue with him. Instead, I focused on the tranquil scene in front of me. The lake shimmered in the sunlight, and the gentle rustling of the leaves calmed me.

He kept fidgeting and shifting, and I couldn't help but wonder what was on his mind.

I stood up folding my arms looking down at him.

"Can you leave , don't you have someone waiting to kiss the ground you walk on."

"Oh shut the fuck up Y/n and sit." He said harshly. I stood there for a moment, the anger simmering inside me, before turning to walk away. But before I could take a step, Neteyam grabbed my wrist, and my body froze.

In a split second, I turned around and swung the back of my hand right into his cheek. The stinging pain brought a sense of satisfaction, but it was short-lived as Neteyam's grip tightened around my neck, pinning my body to the tree. I struggled against him, fear filling my veins.

"What the fuck is your problem," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

I could snap your neck right here." He said something sinister behind his eyes, his grip tightening, making me see stars before he let me go and stormed off to who knows where.

I gasped, coughing and catching my breath. My body shook in anger, my skin hot. "How fucking dare he," I screamed, disturbing the peace that surrounded me. I rubbed my neck that was now stinging with pain.

I walked back to my home, tears in my eyes, planning my revenge on that asshole. He'll be lucky if I leave him alive. I spent the next few days plotting and scheming, until I had the perfect plan.

But what I didn't suspect was that his dad would come asking me to go on a hunting trip with his despicable son.

I gracefully accepted, knowing that my revenge would be that much sweeter.

I got up the next day, all my supplies ready for this trip, as I made my way over to the Sully's home. The sun was barely up, and a light mist hung over the trees, making the air cool and fresh. As I approached the house, Tseyek and Neteyam were outside. Jake greeted me warmly with a smile, but Neteyam's expression was different. He frowned not happy to see me at all.

I walked up, greeting the Olo'eyktan and the Olo'eyktan only. "What is she doing here, dad?" Neteyam said, looking at me suspiciously.

"She's going on the hunt with you. You two are the best hunters," Jake replied, his tone firm and unyielding.

Neteyam was beginning to protest, but he was cut off by his dad holding his hand up. He let out a frustrated growl.

"We should get going." I said firmly, calling my ikran.

"Don't ruin this for me," he said, mounting his ikran.

I rolled my eyes, followed by a smirk remembering my plan.

As we took off into the sky, the wind rushed past us, and I felt free for a moment.

The ride to the campgrounds was silent, but wonderful for me, seeing that I didn't have to hear Neteyam's annoying voice. As we drew closer to the camp he finally spoke up.

"Here."

"I know dipshit." I said landing my ikran.

It was almost time for the eclipse, and I hurried to set up my supplies. Behind me, I heard footsteps and sensed someone's intense gaze on my back.

"Stop staring," I snapped, not breaking my concentration.

"You're lucky to be here... with me," he said, but I cut him off.

"I really don't give a fuck, Neteyam. Shut up."

He pulled me up by my arm and stood inches from me, staring into my eyes. I was itching to punch him, but I knew I'd have the upper hand later.

I yanked my arm away, pulled out my knife, and pointed it at him.

"I thought I told you to never fucking touch me."

He smirked and pushed the knife away from his face. "That might be scary to someone else, princess, but not me."

He started walking toward me, and I backed away, not sure what he was planning. I tightened my grip on the knife, ready for anything.

I was now wedged between a tree and Neteyam's body, his hot breath hitting my lips, my heart speeding up.

"You know you'd make the perfect mate if you weren't such a raging bitch," he hissed at me.

I wedged my hand between our bodies, unable to stop my body from quivering at his touch.

He lowered his head to my neck, his breath tickling my sensitive skin. I swallowed, feeling heat rush to my core. Why was my body reacting to him this way?

"Nervous baby?" he asked, placing a small kiss on my neck.

"No, Neteyam," I said, trying to sound confident.

He laughed, turning his back to me.

"I knew you liked me," he said, disappearing into his tent.

I threw my knife down, watching it stick into the ground before I slid down the tree.

"What the fuck was that, y/n?" I said to myself.

A million thoughts raced through my mind. Did I really like him? Why did my body react like that to him of all people?

But I couldn't deny that Neteyam was a catch. His body was toned to perfection, and every eligible woman sought after him for good reason.

As I wandered through the forest, I couldn't shake the feeling of temptation that Neteyam had stirred in me. But I knew that giving in to him would mean sacrificing my pride.

I walked back to my tent and lay looking up at the roof of my tent, listening for the right moment to strike. Hours must've passed by before I heard rustling coming from the tent next to mine.

Time to strike.

I took a peek to see him walking, I made my way out of my tent silently following him.

I finally found my opening, kicking his leg, grabbing his queue tightly.

His screams of agony ripped through the Lush forest.

I tightened my grip on his queue, yanking it so that he would face me.

He growled at me, but it put a smile on my face seeing him completely at my mercy.

I pulled out my knife, slowly bringing it to his queue.

"No no, Y/n please, I'd rather you kill me."

I laughed, that'd be too easy.

I whispered in his ear, "You deserve much worse."

I brought my knife to his face giving it a small slash, I couldn't help but feel satisfaction wash over me.

The memory of what he did to me.

Blood dripped down his face as I leaned forward, licking it sensually. Yanking his queue, I forced him to face me.

"You'd make a good mate too if you weren't so weak," I whispered into his ear, running my hand down his queue. Neteyam shivered at my touch .The tendrils danced at my fingertips, and I couldn't resist the temptation to play with them.

"What are you doing?" he muttered weakly.

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped, pressing my foot harder on his leg. He winced, but he knew better than to cry out. I brought the tendrils to my mouth, sticking out my tongue, and let them dance around it. Neteyam let out a low groan.

"Like that, don't you, Tey?" I purred, enjoying the feeling of power that came with his submission.

I ran my hand up his queue, pulling his head back as I slowly straddled him, feeling his cock slowly harden.

"I can feel how turned on you are, seems like you like me too."

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thewiz9062 · 8 months ago

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OK so

@smilingcrittersthingig 's Reborn AU has completely mentally beat my ass for the past 5 hours (compliment) so I'm just gonna. Rant.

THIS DESTROYED ME.

if I was an easy crier I actually wouldn't be typing this cause I'd be inconsolably bawling in my room

I can't even say that they're wrong for hating him, I mean he killed them and I'm not excusing him but GODDAMN I FEEL SO BAD FOR HIM AS WELL.

Like ppl joke abt how catnap is so devoted to the prototype but compared to simple "belief" He was PHYSICAL and actually tried to help him escape the hellhole that was playtime co.

(If you're not aware it's either theory or fact (i can't remember) that Theodore [Catnaps soul] had attempted an escape attempt via the help of the prototype and they got DAMN close but Theodore was fatally injured and instead of leaving him there to die the prototype had to go back and let them turn him into catnap.)

The prototype was so adamant on keeping him alive that they went back to their CAPTORS just so he wouldn't die. SHIT, I WOULDVE STARTED WORSHIPPING TOO!!! Even if he didn't make it out they didn't abandon him, so he had full belief that one day, under THEIR order, him and the rest of the critters would leave that place.

So imagine the heartbreaking moment when he realized that his fellow captors, his friends, both in form and mind, don't share the same sentiment, maybe even calling him crazy and violent.

And he just? doesn't know why??? Maybe he can admit the prototypes methods were a bit too confronting but it's not like they didn't TRY the non confrontal method. He thought they'd agree, they'd follow him but it wasn't the case.

So, well, he listened to the prototype. And that included killing his friends, yes, and it's stated (in the au) that he does regret it and I'm crying again great (positive)

And now they're all there, everyone that has either indirectly or directly been killed by him are there and they want him dead now too. AND HES PROBABLY STILL CONFUSED ON WHY THEY EVEN WENT AGAINST HIM AND WANTS TO KNOW. BUT ITS NOT LIKE HE CAN JUST GO ASK THEN THEYD ATTACK HIM PHYSICALLY OR VERBALLY ON SIGHT SO NOW HES S C A R E D OF THEM.

AND YOU CANT BLAME ANYONE BUT PLAYTIME.CO BECAUSE THEYRE ALL VICTIMS HERE. I CANT.

Oh and this.

I THOUGHT IT COULDNT GET ANY SADDER THEN YOU SHOT ME WITH THE DOOMED YAOI. HELL ITS NOT EVEN DOOMED ITS POST-DOOM. E V I L . THE FACT THAT DOGDAY PURELY HATES HIS GUTS AND WANTS HIM GONE AND DEAD THE MOST OUT OF ALL OF THEM IS GONNA KILL ME.

And then to add the final stab through my heart (compliment) I went to scourge for the enemies chart and-

HE HATES HIM SO MUCH! AND CATNAPS THE ONLY ONE OUT OF THE TWO WHO WANTS TO RECONCILE EVEN IF ITS JUST A LITTLE BIT AND WOULD MISS HIM QUITE A BIT WHILE DOGDAY JUST WANTS HIM G O N E . I CANT ANYMORE (I so can I love this)

You so did this to make people depressed for a week, it's working. And I love you for it.

Anyways we love angst in this household please keep it up I'm eating this au up for another 2 weeks buh bye

Edit: I'm so sorry for editing this so much the thoughts won't go away

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #dogday #catnap #smiling critters au #angst #AAAAANGST #IM CRYING BOTH HAPPY AND SAD TEARS AS WE SPEAK #smiling critters reborn au

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coralinnii · 2 years ago

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Can I just say that I absolutely adore your reincarnation aus so much I kept re-reading it because aaaa it's so good 😭💕. I had this random thought, what if in Leona's story they have a son and then said son is the second ML/ new villain of the story. MC avoided the villainous husband route only to get a villainous son 🤣

Oh that’s an interesting thought…lemme just angst the f*ck out of that~

So in this scenario, villain/ess!reader(MC) would be capable of conceiving children, set deep into the reincarnation au series Leona ver. past the current story,

I may have switched from third-person to second-person POV because some parts just seem awkward if I didn’t.

MC would be in a state of stress and dread. If MC were to receive memories of their child’s fate on the day he was born, the world honestly feels like it would collapse on them. They would cry every night while cradling their newborn, which worries everyone.

If MC doesn’t know what would trigger their villain route, MC may not let anyone touch their child, not trusting anyone in fear of malicious intent towards the new Royal member. The only one MC would trust were Leona, Cheka, and his parents.

“What are you cryin’ for?” Leona's tone was gruff but his actions didn’t match as he was holding you in his arms on your bed while you were cradling your new son. “He’s gonna be fine”

“No, he won’t” You hiccuped through your tears as your tired eyes gaze down at the child. You haven’t slept very well since you received those memories from your past life. “Everyone is after our son and won’t stop until he’s their puppet”

Why was this world so cruel to those you love? You worked so hard to save your husband but now this cursed story is after your son? Your beautiful son with Leona’s eyes and cute little lion ears. His tail was curled around his leg as he was safely cocooned in his blanket.

Leona is gonna have to step up as your husband and talk you through your stress. You defended him from nefarious nobles and actually made him hopeful of his future even as a second born. Growing up royal, he knows exactly how the elite trash sees him and any children he may have. Those power-hungry will be watching for any chance to gain influence, using or deposing him or his son if necessary.

Like hell is he gonna let that happen, though. That's his and your son they're talking about.

“No one will ever mess with our son,” Leona spoke so matter-of-factly as he pulled you closer to him, but his eyebrows furrowed as the beastman could feel the stressful shaking of your body. “Stop your worryin'”

You questioned your ever confident husband “What do you know that makes you so sure of that, Leo?”

For a moment, Leona’s green eyes softened, glancing down at his son sleeping in your arms. But he then began to smirk in your direction. “‘Cause anyone that tries to will be crushed into dust. If they weren’t already dead by the time you get your hands on them”

Leona’s haughty words made you chuckle for the first time in a while. Leave it to your husband to successfully cheer you up with threats of violence upon your enemies. Strangely, you felt your fears lifting from your heart at Leona’s confident promises.

You suddenly felt Leona’s warm hands gently covering your tired eyes. You could tell that your head was subtly pushed into the crook of husband's neck, feeling Leona's locks on your cheek.

"Leo?"

“Get some sleep, idiot. I’ll watch over our kid”

Hmm…our kid, huh. Yea, he’ll be fine.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #villainess au #leona kingscholar #leona x reader

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lewkwoodnco · 10 months ago

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and I hope it gets to you on some Pacific wind - Lockwood x Reader

will you love me like you loved me in the January rain? will you love me like you loved me and I'll never ask for more.

and I never minded being on my own, then something broke in me and I wanted to go home to be where you are but even closer to you, you seem so very far and now I'm reaching out with every note I sing and I hope it gets to you on some Pacific wind wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

I didn't choose this town. I dream of getting out. There's just one who could make me stay...all my days.

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST part 1: I Can See You

a/n: WOOOO almost a month since my last fic (tl;dr got terribly sick, got my a level results, scholarship apps, trying to decide what I wanted to do with my life until I remembered, oh, right, I hate doing that, so now its back to fic writing) anywaysss watched miss peregrines home for peculiar children while i was sick and omg. the end credits song??? deCEASED. anyways heres a fic inspired by that song which you should definitely listen to and i definitely wont cry if you dont cbnjvfkjva bye going to get chocolate cakee

warnings/tropes: reader (unexpectedly) missing lockwood desperately after moving away, pining for someone w every fiber of your being, handling grief (NO major character death tho), angst, no happy ending :/// but some snippets of humour!

word count: 6.3k! (my longest fic yet!)

"You won't believe what they're doing at Fittes."

She slid into a seat at Portland Row's kitchen table, oblivious to the fact that she had just stolen George's seat. George glared at Lockwood for a minute, who looked appropriately sympathetic yet slightly distracted, before picking another seat.

"Hi Y/N, how nice to see you. Again. For the third time this week. Please, make yourself at home."

"Oh, Georgie, you're so sweet." She was too distraught to pick up on George's sarcastic tone or his eye roll, though Lockwood spared him an apologetic glance. She slammed a letter onto the table, upsetting the salt and pepper shakers, which Lockwood started curiously scanning. "Unlike my daft supervisors."

There was always a flurry of activity whenever she visited Portland Row. She somehow always had so much to say, and she had to say it within the first five minutes of her being there. That usually meant Portland Row's own activities would come to a brief halt, but her news was more often than not too entertaining to incite many grievances from the inhabitants.

After their joint case involving Winkman, Lucy and George had felt the air shift between them, in a way they couldn't quite put their finger on. Something had obviously happened, especially since she had started stopping by Portland Row. They'd exchange a few obligatory insults, share the highlights of their week, and somehow not bite each other's faces off. Over time, the insults faded into the background, but they still threw in the occasional jab when things started seeming too friendly. Why they were still pretending to get into tiffs when Lockwood had slipped her a spare key was completely lost on George and Lucy.

One unfortunate consequence was they became stuck in this weird limbo. Neither friends nor enemies, but something more rather than in between. And yet, some part of them always hesitated, and so they remained as the two singular, lonely entities they had always been. That wasn't to say they didn't have it in their hearts to feel appropriately outraged for the other when the circumstances called for it.

"Layoffs?”

"Layoffs!"

"What the hell are they laying you off for?"

"Exactly! Never mind that my team has the lowest mortality rate, or that we've never caused destruction worth any more than 500 pounds - no offence, Lockwood."

"Er, yes. At least they're giving you a decent severance package."

Apparently, that wasn't the right thing to say, and this time the egg cups went down as well.

"Overrated ass agency with fuck ass headquarters in the middle of London that I never wanted to spend the rest of my career at anyway, fuck Fittes bitch fucking Rotwell's wannabe-“

"What about Kipps?"

Her face twisted and the others braced for impact a third time. "If they don't put his head on the chopping block, I will-"

After a few cups of tea and a few more rounds of nonsensically excessive swearing, she had finally gotten her disappointment under control.

"Maybe a little rapier practice will take your mind off things?"

She pulled a face. "But my shoulder's so tired."

"Your shoulder's been tired for three weeks now. If your break goes on any longer you'll forget everything I've taught you about grips."

"Aw. Oh no."

"Yes, yes, you're very funny."

"What a tragedy."

"You could at least try to pretend like you care."

"I care! I so care. Of course I care. I've got the hottest instructor this side of the Thames."

"Only on this side of the Thames?"

"Yeah, 'cause he's also a dork ass loser who wears confetti-coloured socks."

Still, she joined him in the basement for a little bit of practice, just to refresh her memory. After that, they tried to venture into some basic lunges, which was where things started going downhill again.

"It's no use." She drove her rapier into the stand and started pulling her wrist brace off, despite Lockwood's deflating encouragement. She sat propped up against the wall, frustratedly combing through her sticky hair. "I'm hopeless at this. Maybe Fittes did know what they were doing when they laid me off."

Lockwood sighed. He put away his own rapier and joined her on the floor. "You're not the only employee they've dismissed. You just got...unlucky."

"Now I feel worse."

"My point is, things will start looking up once you move on." He fiddled with her wrist brace. hesitating. "You do know what to do next, don't you?"

She sighed. "I'll start sending out applications tomorrow. There's this agency in Canterbury I've worked with before. Maybe they'll consider having me full-time."

If she notices Lockwood being mildly taken aback, she doesn't remark on it. He manages some strangled response of approval, and their rapier practice session ends there. It's too late for her to return home by then, so they wash up and get ready for bed. It's clear the day has taken a sizeable chunk out of her when she almost immediately falls half-asleep. Lockwood worries over their conversation in the basement. He glances at her relaxed face. Yeah, she was probably still awake.

"Y/N. Y/N."

"Mm."

"You awake?"

"Mhm."

"I just wanted to tell you that...I was perfectly serious that time. When I said you could come work for me. In case you were wondering. Y/N?"

She doesn't respond, and after a few minutes, her breathing evens out again. He isn't sure if she's heard her, and is even less sure why she's doing everything in her power to stay away from Lockwood & Co.

One cold, January morning, she had been at the Archives with Lockwood & Co. where they were doing some research on their latest joint case. By the time that January morning had turned into a chilly January afternoon, George was telling Lockwood off for leaving one of the maps behind at Portland Row. Naturally, Lockwood was sent to fetch the missing materials, who, not-so-naturally, enlisted her help.

As reluctant as she may have appeared to join Lockwood on this errand, she rested her buzzing head against the soothing, cold glass of the cab gratefully. She had been a little distracted all morning; working at a slower pace, fiddling with the large volumes disinterestedly, staring off into space. She was simultaneously irritated and relieved that Lockwood had noticed. She stared out at the foggy streets of London with her own foggy eyes, trying to make sense of the day.

She had decided to wait on their front porch while Lockwood nipped in to get the papers. While waiting, a sharp rap on their tin awning startled her. Peering up at the sky, she watched the first raindrops of that January shower land in Portland Row's garden. Soon enough, it started to pour generously. The delicate, almost curious winter daffodils drooped their heads under the violent force that was the rain coming down in sheets. In the grey of the clouds and the streets, their yellow petals made her dream of something half-happy.

Tentatively, she walked down the path and stepped into the garden. And then another step. And then another. She was frolicking in the rain for the first time in her life, and there was no one around to stop her.

She felt the rain pause, and turned to see Lockwood holding an umbrella over the two of them. She wrapped her fingers around his on the handle and, with a bit of difficulty, closed the umbrella over their heads. It was only a matter of seconds before the heavy raindrops started weighing his coat down and flattening his otherwise perfectly coiffed hair. She watched the hues of curiosity and amusement shift in his eyes, all of them tinged with the mauve of love. She watched him love her wholly, unabashedly, asking for nothing.

She felt sorry for ruining Lockwood's nice clothes only for a moment, before throwing her arms around his neck, clutching him a little stronger than what was strictly necessary. Papers forgotten, rain soaken, daffodils smitten…she never wanted it to end.

And that was when her life started to fall apart. Being laid off by Fittes had drastically changed their dynamic, and hardly for the better. It was no longer banter from one agent to another - it was one agent and the bad habit he had picked up over the months, one he didn't seem too keen on kicking anytime soon. She didn't ask to stay, and he didn't ask her to leave. And so she spent the rest of her days of unemployment at Portland Row, helping out however she could, filling out and mailing her applications.

Which brought her to her next problem - letters of recommendation.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, reading through the advertisements in the newspaper while nervously shredding its bottom corner. She didn't even look up when Lockwood placed her mug of tea in front of her. He shifted it right on top of the ad she was picking apart.

"Oh. Thanks."

"How's the job search going?"

"Not good." She sighed. "A lot of them require a letter of recommendation."

He slid into the seat next to hers, resting his chin on the back of the chair. "I'll write you a letter of recommendation."

"From my previous employer."

"So? Go over to Fittes and ask for one."

"I don't know," she said, disintegrating the final scraps of newspaper. "Seems a little awkward to go back there after they laid me off."

Lockwood took a look at his watch. "I've got a client meeting at 2, so we should leave after breakfast."

He was already climbing out of his chair and talking to George about the stove misbehaving again by the time her brain caught up. "Hang on, we?"

Lockwood seemed to very conveniently not hear her. "Y/N, if you're not going to drink your tea, we should leave now."

She crammed the last of her toast into her mouth while shrugging her coat on, and joined him outside where he was counting out some coins in his hand.

"Should be just enough for the two of us."

"Just enough for what?"

"The bus. Lovely day, isn't it?"

The trip to Fittes was one of the worst she'd had in her life. She almost felt ashamed for getting laid off and was driving herself crazy obsessing over it. Halfway through she felt a warmth settle over her hand, and glanced down to see Lockwood's palm covering her own. He was looking out the window as if nothing had even happened, and she was looking at him. She couldn't quite tear her eyes away from the sight.

When they reached, she went up to the customer service counter while Lockwood hung back. He looked around the first-floor lobby languidly, watching everyone hurry about their da- hang on, was that Barnes coming out of a conference room?

Lockwood smiled at him while Barnes averted his gaze and started walking out a little faster. Yes, that was most definitely Barnes. He started walking towards him and was just about to call out when he was interrupted by a slightly heated voice coming from the customer service counter.

"What do you mean you don't offer letters of recommendation?!"

A few days after they were almost-but-not-really kicked out of the Fittes headquarters, she and Lockwood were in the library reshelving some books a little before lunchtime. George and Lucy were in the kitchen, so for a while all that could be heard was the smooth sounds of books being pulled off and being put onto the shelves. Lockwood glanced at her and cleared his throat, forcefully injecting a certain nonchalance into his voice.

"I was talking to Barnes the other day."

"Hmm?"

"I think I managed to convince him that we're a big enough agency now to need health insurance."

"Health insurance? Well, don't tell George, or he'll fling himself off the roof at the first chance."

Lockwood stifled a laugh, turning it into a cough though his voice was still comically strained. "Don't go giving him any ideas, now."

They continued rearranging the books in silence until he steeled himself enough to pick up the conversation again.

"So, what I wanted to say was...if you wanted to join Lockwood & Co... you wouldn't have to worry about your mother. Not anymore."

She paused her shelving and frowned at him. "Why do you want me to join Lockwood & Co. so badly?"

"I think you'd be...a valuable member of our team."

So close, yet so far from the few words she wanted to hear. Please join us, Y/N. Forget about all these other agencies. I'd miss you more than I could bear if you left. Go on. Say it.

"Is that all?"

"I...I suppose."

She turned back to their task, disappointed. "I've been wanting to leave London for a while now. To get out, explore...see what's out there."

He stilled for a moment, before bowing his head regretfully. "I see."

Ask me to stay. Please.

They were sitting cross-legged in the garden on Lockwood's coat, the winter daffodils now resting their tired heads on their knees. She squinted up at the sky, now that the rain had come down to a light drizzle.

"My mum never let me go out in the rain." She smiled bitterly at him. "The rest of my friends would go out into the street in their...raincoats...wellingtons...and I'd watch them from the kitchen window. She always said I'd fall sick. And I'd always think...how terrible would it really be if I did?"

She stared at the ground and tried very hard not to cry. "I was a kid. I just...I just wanted a bit of fun." She pressed a shaky hand to her eyes, then dragged it up to her forehead. "And now, all I want..."

The silence filled in for the words she didn't say.

"I never thought I'd miss that."

She glanced at his face anxiously, trying to gauge his reaction. In a way, she mused, Lockwood, and whatever this was, was not all that dissimilar from the rain. It was some wish for a sickness for a fleeting moment of peace. A fleeting moment of being wanted.

He blinked away the raindrops weighing on his eyelashes. "You won't have to. She'll be alright."

"How do you know?"

He stared at a limp daffodil, whose head was being cradled by the bend of his knee, and sighed. "I don't. But some things you just have to...believe."

"I'm sick of believing."

"Then I'll believe for you."

She never knew what it was like to have someone hold onto faith when she couldn't. To have someone hold her up when her knees were buckling under her, to do what she wasn't strong enough to do herself. She cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed.

"You don't have to do that."

"Someone's got to do it. I'll do it for you."

It was around this point that Lockwood suddenly started getting a lot busier. He somehow never had the time to stay in the same room as her for longer than a minute, and any short passing conversations they shared felt stunted. Other than a cursory smile when they passed each other in the hallways, Lockwood seemed further to her than ever, with his cool demeanour that was somehow forever occupied with matters greater and more important than her.

After a few days of struggling with her applications on her own, Lucy suggested that she pay a visit to DEPRAC for a letter of recommendation. Thankfully, her request for the letter was successful, but her joy was short-lived, barely lasting the bus ride home.

She watched the hopelessly in love couples on the bus whisper to each other, hold hands or even just enjoy each other's company in silence. There was a guy with his hair styled in an unnervingly familiar way. It triggered a sick image of Lockwood sitting on this very bus, next to a girl with lazily attractive eyes and hair prettier than hers could ever be. It made her feel nauseous.

When she returned to Portland Row, she walked around the seemingly empty house, perplexed, until she finally found the three of them pouring over a large book in the library. Lockwood was fiddling with the shirt sleeves folded at his elbows and was the first to glance up as she gently pushed the door open.

"Hey," she smiled at them faintly, avoiding Lockwood's gaze, trying to keep the worry gnawing at her synapses at bay. She stepped inside,

leaning over the huge book, tracing the letters with her eyes interestedly.

"Is that the -"

Lockwood slammed the book shut, cutting her off and sending Lucy into a coughing fit over the dust it released.

"Y/N! Find your way to DEPRAC alright?"

It was a heavy book, she kept repeating to herself, of course it was going to take quite an effort to close it. However, from the way his forearms flexed aggressively as he stuffed the book back into its cloth cover, she wasn't entirely convinced.

"...yes. I took the bus."

"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" The three of them exchanged a look while Lockwood firmly tucked the book in. The grey skies peeking through the curtains looked hardly lovely. George finally caved, glaring at Lockwood.

"We were just finalising our plan for next week's case."

"I used to draw up mission plans for my team at Fittes. Maybe I could -"

"I think we're fine." Lockwood crossed his arms, his expression unnaturally surly and his jaw set in a way that gave her a sinking feeling. George threw the book at him, who only barely managed to catch it at the last second.

"Told you we should have waited for her."

Unfortunately, matters refused to ease up over the next week. And so she somehow learned to live without him. One morning, she decided to get an early start to the day since she was going to be accompanying Lucy to the DEPRAC headquarters to submit some company paperwork. She paused at the foot of the stairs when she heard a bit of a ruckus in the kitchen, followed by some soft swearing. She crept towards the kitchen to see Lockwood scrambling to gather up an upturned first aid kit while a dark red patch swelled on his socks, still in the same attire as when he left for a solo case the previous evening.

He looked at her furiously, trying to hide his injured ankle behind the kitchen table. He seemed to become further incensed by her helping to set the first aid kit right. "Leave it. I can do it on my own."

"I'm only trying to help! Don't look at me like that, you got yourself hurt in the first place."

He spoke emphatically through gritted teeth. "I don't need your help."

"Lockwood, your sock is nearly soaked through with blood. So shut up."

Maybe the blood loss was starting to catch up to him, but for once, Lockwood did as he was told. He certainly wasn't happy about it, but he allowed her to peel back his sock and wince at the sight of the wound. As she cleaned and dressed the injury, she couldn't help but be reminded of old times when they would snap at each other, her more than him, whenever they were within ten feet of the other. It was almost nostalgic but slightly worrying to be back to square one.

When he could hold himself back no longer, he pried the bandage roll out of her hands with an unexpected gentleness, shakily winding it messily around his ankle. When he was done, she put it away with the first aid kit, and when she returned, his nose was buried in the day's paper, once again as distant as an island.

Soon after that, George and Lucy joined them for breakfast, and George almost immediately picked up on

"Lucy, George won't leave me alone!"

"Lockwood's a pent-up git that never says what he feels!"

Lucy gave them a sidelong glance. "...right. Y/N, ready to -?"

Eyes watering, she chugged the last of her tea and clambered out of her chair, but Lockwood beat her to it. He folded the newspaper sharply, and straightened from his seat, albeit a tad unsteadily.

"No need. I'll come with you, Luce." She and Lucy exchanged a glance, and she slowly sunk back down into her seat. Lucy took in the ectoplasm on his trainers, his slightly charred shirt and the purple under his eyes.

"Are you sure? You look a little...tired."

"I've been out all night. One more trip isn't going to kill me." He patted Lucy firmly on the shoulder, his grip looking a little painful as he swayed imperceptibly, voice trailing off as he started shuffling towards the door.

His limp was unmistakable now, but the three of them knew better than to question him when he was in a mood like this, with his uneven voice and rough words dangerously close to becoming slurred. "Come now," he was saying, "let's not bother Y/N with Lockwood & Co. matters." His shifty eyes finally settled on her for the first time that morning, but she didn't like the brooding spite behind them. "Not when she has all these important applications to fill out."

The silence that followed prickled uncomfortably. Lucy scoffed and stepped out, Lockwood following her determinedly. There was some muffled argument in the hallway, then the sound of the front door opening and closing, and then silence once more. She stared at the dregs of her tea stonily, hating the way her face burned with shame. When she finally looked up, George had left, but there was a sympathy jammy dodger within reach.

It was getting dangerously close to half an hour in the rain, yet still the heavens beat down on them ruthlessly. They had retired to the front steps just outside the awning, now almost completely drenched. She shuffled her feet nervously, trying to scrounge up some warmth, while the rain flowed down Lockwood's nose freely. He was staring at the rich dark earth at his feet, like he had forgotten where he was, his coat long forgotten. She stood up and jabbed him between the shoulder blades sharply, making him snap his head up.

"It's getting cold. I'm going inside." Lockwood blinked, raindrops decorating an eyelash or two, and nodded after a moment. She sighed impatiently.

"Don't you want to come inside too?"

"...I'm not cold."

"No, but you'll fall sick if you stay out any longer."

He rubbed his face wearily, his back muscles shifting mechanically under his translucent shirt. "I'll be alright."

She bristled instinctively. The raindrops somehow got even louder as they pelted the tin awning. "I'm serious, Lockwood."

"So am I."

"Then come inside before you catch something awful."

"I'll come inside when I want to."

The torrential downpour continued unabated, viciously attacking their home's exterior. The rapping of the raindrops against the tin rung in her ears like anger.

"Why must you be so stubborn?"

He finally looked up to meet her eyes, his own filled with a despair she had rarely seen. "I want to be alone."

It was the night of the big case that Lockwood & Co. had been preparing for for a week now, but two of its three members had come down with the most awful stomach bug she had seen. Apparently, there was something off with Arif's doughnuts that day, and now Lucy and George were down with food poisoning. She was in her room, listening to Lockwood wear down the floorboards outside her room with all his pacing. Finally, he stopped in front of her door, and after a moment, gave a short knock.

"Come in."

He opened the door to reveal a fully decked-out Lockwood extensively decorated with flares and lavender. She raised her eyebrows.

"Wow. That is...wow."

"George and Lucy are down with food poisoning," he began impatiently, "and I could really use an extra pair of eyes." He softened his stance at the critical look in her eye, taking on a more apologetic demeanour. "...please."

"But I don't even know how to use a rapier."

"Not much room for one, anyway. It's a two-room cottage."

She toyed with the idea of saying no. The idea of watching the hope in his eyes flicker out, of watching him go do the job...alone...without anyone's help...without anyone to help him if he got injured, or worse-

"Fine. I'll meet you downstairs in two minutes."

The cab was waiting for them by the time she was hurrying down the stairs, and she flipped through the summarised research report on the way there. She winced at the circled deduction that the Visitor was likely a Fetch, which Lockwood picked up on.

"Is something wrong?"

"...no." With some difficulty, she tore her eyes away from the report and closed the file. In all her years of experience, Fetches were the one Visitor that she still struggled with. It didn't help that her encounters with them had been few and far between. She glanced at Lockwood, who was staring out the window coolly as if barely nonplussed by the anticipation of coming face-to-face with one of the most dangerous Visitor types.

The taxi driver was quite a bit intimidated by Lockwood's superfluous attire, and so refused to go any further than the foot of the hill at the top of which the cottage was located. As they lugged their equipment up the hill, she felt her frustration towards Lockwood swell and swell until it finally reached a breaking point. She dropped the duffel bag she was carrying with a clatter, making Lockwood stop and turn around to face her.

"What's wrong?"

"Why have you been so off lately?"

His features hardened and his jaw set like it had so many times before. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. Obviously."

He stared at her hard, before dropping his own duffel bag. The tension over the past two weeks had clearly come to a head and it was happening right there on the hill in near-darkness. "I thought we were a team."

"We are."

"Well, it sure as hell doesn't feel like it."

"I just want to be independent."

"No, you don’t. You want to be alone."

“That's not true!” She hesitated. "That's not fair." At that moment, she felt so terribly small and insignificant, in a way she hadn't felt since having a particularly cruel supervisor in her first year of being an agent. Her eyes prickled unpleasantly, and she was suddenly engulfed with memories about that January shower. Oh, no, she thought. He was never going to hold her like that again.

She shook her head as if trying to shake some sense into herself. "I don't...I don't want to be a burden. I can do this on my own."

"You want to do this on your own."

"How could you possibly think that?"

“All I see is someone too scared to stick their neck out for something real for once in their life."

“What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't think you know what you're running from!"

She looked around in despair as if searching for some way to make him understand. "I'm not running from anything."

He stepped closer to her, and it was all she could manage to not burst into tears with his face twisted something ugly with hurt.

"You're running from me."

I'm not, she wants to say, but the words get caught in her throat. The silence rings out harshly between the two of them until Lockwood picks up his bag and resumes the trek uphill. After a moment or two, she follows him.

When they reach inside, they go through the motions of setting up their chains and investigating the areas of the Visitor's appearance, the way they've done hundreds of times before. Eventually, they split up and pace their corresponding rooms, the malaise growing stronger in the air by the minute.

After an hour or so, she felt it. A prickling in the hairs at the back of her neck. Waves of nausea washed over her and she felt paralysed by fear. She knew that when she turned, she'd be faced with something too terrible to comprehend. But she's too weak to brave seeing something so terrible, and so she doesn't turn. At that moment, she unravelled, and covered her eyes with her hands like a child, gasping with sobs that she struggled to suppress.

Suddenly, the cold breathing down her neck was replaced by intense heat as the hiss of a flare eating through a Visitor filled her ears. She felt rough hands desperately clutching her wrists and peeked through her fingers to meet Lockwood's panic-stricken gaze. Panic-stricken over her. His eyes shifted to the Visitor behind her and lobbed another flare at it in the nick of time.

She started creeping along the walls, running her hands over every nook and cranny until she came across a picture frame radiating strong feelings of anxiety. She scrambled for the iron still folded in her pocket and threw it over the frame. The Visitor instantly evaporated, leaving Lockwood staring at the corner it had just been occupying with a haunted look in his eyes. When he had regained proper control of his senses, he turned to her.

"I didn't know-"

"I thought I'd be able to manage it, okay?" She avoided his gaze. "I'm sorry. Can we just go h- go back now?"

The ride back was somehow even quieter than the ride there, both of them burdened by thoughts that would clearly never see the light of day. He paused at the hat stand near the front door while she shrugged her coat off.

"Y/N-"

"I think I'll go to bed now. Goodnight, Lockwood."

She cut past him brusquely, heading straight for her room, though it would be many hours before the buzzing in her head quieted enough for her to fall asleep. As she got undressed, her mind drifted back to when Lockwood was standing right in front of her, holding her wrists with a long-forgotten gentleness, and the close shave with the Fetch. Too close of a shave. Tonight could never happen again. She had to make sure of it.

Over the next few days, their relationship returned to being suspiciously amicable. Perhaps it wasn't as glaringly obvious to the others with the distraction of their stomach bug, but George's squint at her when she handed him a glass of water was enough to see that he was onto them.

She had been in the basement polishing their iron chains when Lockwood knocked on the door. She put the chains down for a moment as he pulled out a minimalistic envelope.

"This just came for you in the mail."

It had the address of one of the agencies she had applied to written on it. She nervously ripped it open and started scanning the contents before she remembered where she was. She looked at Lockwood, who had a cool expression of polite curiosity.

"So? Did you get it?"

"They want me to start next week." Lockwood's lips curved into a half-smile, and it was the first smile he'd given her in weeks that reached his eyes.

"That's...that's amazing. You deserve it. That is, if you're going to accept it."

"It's a rather decent offer. Think it would be quite a shame to pass it up. Don't you?"

He gave a slight pause. "Of course. Yes."

"...but?"

He shook his head and gave a short laugh. "It's...it's silly." He was staring at a patch of grease on the floor which he was very focused on rubbing out with his shoe. "I've known you for...for as long as Lockwood & Co.'s been around." He looked up from the floor to meet her gaze, his eyes open and honest.

"I don't know if I can do this without you."

She looks into his flighty brown eyes and drinks in as much as she can of him. Next week, she'll be in a different town, at a new job, meeting new people until he becomes just a distant memory, some dream she had once upon a time, and she'd be freed from her shackles of longing. But now, in his eyes she sees the two of them spinning round and round, forever together in a January shower in some universe.

"I should start packing."

Her goodbyes were fairly uneventful. They exchanged promises to write, to keep in touch. Lucy and George waved her off from their front door. Lockwood didn't come down from his room. Now she was in her new home, miles away from any feelings that may have tethered her from Portland Row, and all that was left to do was sit and wait and try to forget.

Except. Except.

Here she was, lying on her bed with an all too familiar weight on her chest. Those feelings she had promised to bury with the winter daffodils were here - travelled miles to plague her mind with restless thoughts of which nothing could ever come. How was it that all this distance only made her crave Lockwood even more? He stained her mind and hung from her lips like a broken promise, like an unheard prayer. It was there when she woke up, it was there when she went to sleep, it laid next to her and embraced her like a lover till she couldn't breathe.

Three months later, she still hasn't moved on and has almost entirely given up on any hope for sleep. She replays her memories of him like a tired VCR, and every night the image grows fainter and fainter. What, exactly, did his voice sound like? Did he have dimples? He had a scar on his collarbone, she was fairly sure. But how did he get it? She waits for the sky to light up for those few short hours after her work for the day, but be it day or night, the sadness remains.

For years she had been so strong, so tough, so ready to do anything and to do it alone. Too independent to even work properly with his agency. But after meeting Lockwood, it all felt like a farce, like she had just been pretending and hoping and closing her eyes through as many horrors as she could handle until she finally reached her breaking point. Something had snapped in her soul - some ill-gotten desire to fasten herself to him from the moment she had kissed him after Winkman's. To have him be her home.

Even so, she still had a job to do, so she carried these feelings around with her. There was this one particular case where her team was tasked by the city council to clear out an old, abandoned mansion of any Visitors. She had been creeping through the third floor when she saw him standing there, in the shard of moonlight peeking through the rafters. Lockwood was standing mere feet in front of her, sleeves rolled up to his elbows without his coat, whole and uninjured.

"Lockwood!" She closed the distance between them. "What are you doing here?"

He turned to face her, smiling mildly as if she had done nothing more than greet her. Y/N, he was saying. His voice reverberated differently than what she was used to, but she put it down to the weird acoustics of the mansion.

Why did you leave me?

"...what?"

Why did you go away? You've made me sick with worry.

"I...I have?"

Day in, day out, you're all I think about.

"No...no, that can't be right. That's me, not you."

Are you sure? Think harder. What do you remember about me?

"I don't know, I don't know. Why are you doing this, Lockwood?" Something was very, very wrong. What was he of all people doing here, and why weren't his lips moving when he talked?

How can you be so in love with me if you can't even remember me?

I do! I do remember you! Please don't say I don't.

Why'd you leave me, Y/N?

"Wha...what? I didn't - no - I didn't mean to leave you-"

I wanted you to stay.

"Then you should have TOLD ME!"

But I did tell you.

It still hadn't fully clicked in her brain, but she gleaned enough to tell that this wasn't Lockwood. Some obscene bastardisation of him, perhaps, but nothing of any real substance. She walked back a few steps, keeping her eyes trained on him, and against her better judgement threw a flare at him. It hit the centre of his chest, which began to fizzle up and corrode away at the figment until there was nothing left but the dying embers reflected in her misty eyes. He had looked...so solid. So real. Real enough for her to believe. Oh god, how badly she wanted to believe.

That night, she had barely pulled off much of her excess gear before slumping into bed, which she did not leave for the next three days. Obviously, that hadn't been Lockwood, it was a Fetch. But it only had her memories to work off of. What was it that had happened that made her feel like he had told her to stay? She drove herself mad picking apart every interaction she had had with him since she was 13. What did she miss? Where was the mistake?

Maybe she was just hoping for a mistake.

I miss you. I wish you were here - not miles away in London, here, beside me. I wish it was you lodged in my chest instead of this acrid longing. I'm the one who can't do this without you. Please come back to me. I'm so tired of being strong. Please come save me. I need you here. I wish you were here. I wish you were here. I wish you were here.

TAGLIST: @mitskiswift99 @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

P.S. until I changed my mind at the very last minute this WAS going to have a happy ending I wrote it out and everything but then deleted and Grammarly won't let me ctrl z my way out of this :(((

#lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood netflix #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood x reader #florence and the machine #wish that you were here

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soliarus · 1 year ago

Text

Fangs and Claws pt 2

-long awaited (my bad), fluff, angst, fantasy world, vampires, werewolves, elves, ect ect... some enemies to lovers 🤭🤭🤭

: being sworn enemies really does cause some tension, could this said tension turn romantic??

Part One

words 3k

werewolf!momo x vampire!sana x gn!elf!reader

Living with both Momo and Sana has proven to be very challenging. Their species is at war, but it also appears that they are fighting a little one among themselves. Your furniture was too small for them; your sofas and chairs had them virtually squatting, and you were giggling inside every time one of them forgot to duck their heads under a doorway and hit their forehead.

But then again, they're enemies, so... Here you are sitting in between them with your arms crossed as the two girls wedge themselves closer to the couch’s arms, glaring at one another over your head.

“You guys can’t act like this forever,” you huff, eyeing the two, “make some conversation, get to know one another or something”. You look between them and see them look away from one another, Sana with a soft “hmph” and Momo with an annoyed scoff. You groan and leave the room, probably to go dust your room off, again.

Sana looks over at Momo, still looking away. She fiddles with her fingers slightly before hesitantly opening her mouth, “h–”

“don’t talk to me.”

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Not to mention they make anything—literally everything a competition.

Here, Y/N, let me get that for you.” Momo offers to move your chair back for you, before pushing it forward after you get comfortable, picking up the napkin before carefully tying it around your neck, and ruffling your hair as you whine, batting her hand away. Momo grinned triumphantly and moved to take a seat on her side of the table. Sana huffs at the interaction, jealousy coursing through her.

“Hey Y/N, let me fill up your plate.” Sana takes your plate and begins to fill it up with mashed potatoes, with a side of coleslaw, placing a nicely sliced piece of bread next to it. You thank them both with a blush, saying that they didn’t have to and that you’re more than capable of doing it yourself. Momo, of course, glares straight at the smug vampire.

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Momo and Sana found out very early on that you loved to clean. May it be washing your sheets, dusting the house, trimming the bushes, or sweeping the path leading to your front door, you loved to keep things neat and tidy. Today was one of those ‘cleaning’ days that you’d have often, and of course the two beasts were quick to offer help. You were in your room while you asked Sana to be in charge of the living room and Momo of the kitchen.

Sana saw Momo wiping down the cups, but she purposefully skips your favorite one, with reason of course, it was made of silver. All vampire weapons were made of silver because it was the most effective against werewolves. Sana whistles over to the kitchen as an idea arises in her mind.

“What are you doing here?” Momo aggressively asks, glaring at Sana.

Sana shrugs, a smirk on her face. “Am I not allowed to be in the kitchen? Just wanna see what you’re doing.” Her eyes trail to your favorite silver cup. Momo catches her eye.

“Don’t you dare!” Momo tries to stop her, but it’s too late.

“Oops!” And Sana bumps onto the counter, knocking the cup over the edge, and Momo leaps, her arms reaching to catch the cup. And she’s successful; the cup falls into her hands, and she bites her lips to hold back a whimper. She carefully sets the cup down on the floor and races towards the sink, placing her hands under the cold water. You come out of the room with a little maid’s apron tied around your waist and a cleaning cloth in your hand, asking about the sound, when you notice Momo holding back tears.

“Oh Momo,” You softly call for her, walking up to her to graze your hand over the burn before pulling back after seeing her wince, an obvious pout on her lips. “What happened?”

“Your cup fell,” Momo uttered, pointing at your cup lying on the ground with not a single scratch on it. You sigh, understanding what happened.

“Awww, Momo, I don’t care about the cup; you didn’t have to hurt yourself for that. Come come. Let's put some ointment on it and wrap it up. Sana, would you be a dear and finish up for Momo?” You softly usher her towards your room. Momo looks at Sana, sticking her tongue out with a smug look on her face, as Sana stares in shock. But as her eyes flicker down to Momo’s hand, she feels a twinge of guilt before brushing it away and picking up a cloth to finish wiping down the cups.

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And this one time, the three of you were outside, tending to your crops, which were safely secured inside a sturdy new fence both Momo and Sana had built for you. Sana and Momo, as per your request, were shortening some of the long grass that grew alongside your walls. You found them to be too tall and wanted them to be short enough to make it seem your cottage was neat and proper on the outside just as much as it was inside. Momo still had a bandage on her hand from the events of the day before, and she was filled with resentment.

This could be her chance to get back at Sana, and she wouldn’t dare miss it. Sana was behind your cottage; the shade casted on her to protect her from the sun. She is a vampire, after all; she wouldn’t want to burn. But Momo wanted Sana to feel the same pain she felt, so she came up with a quick game plan.

She remembers when Sana saw a spider crawling on your bathroom wall; the screech she let out still makes her laugh internally at her enemy's misery. She looks around and notices a beetle crawling on a leaf. She smirks before picking the small creature up. “perfect”, she mumbles to herself.

“Ohh, Sana, you won’t believe what I found.” Momo walks up to Sana with a smug look, her hands hiding behind her back.

“What is it, mutt?” Sana scoffed, setting down her pliers and walking over. Momo took the chance to throw the beetle at Sana; her face paled as the tiny beetle landed on her shoulder. She screeched, jumping away and slapping her shoulder before tripping over the same set of pliers she’d tossed onto the ground. She fell to the ground with a thud, and a bit of her face escaped the shade and became exposed to the sun. She yelped at the burning sensation, and you quickly came running, asking what happened.

“Oh no, Sana!” You sit her up against the shade, and Momo holds back her snickers as Sana throws her a hard glare, holding onto her head.

────────────────────

“Okay, you two need to be careful; humans visit all the time, so act like one, and don’t do anything suspicious.” You talk about the market in town; every season, vendors from all over come over to sell their goods in the middle of town square, humans and elves alike, ranging from homemade fresh fruits and baked sweets to trinkets and fancy clothes from vast adventurers.

You gave both of them cloaks. Sana was definitely allergic to the sun; the bandage on her cheek was a clear sign, and wearing her armor would definitely reveal that she is, in fact, not a human. Momo’s amber eyes were a dead give away that she was a werewolf, and her stature... no human would be able to compete.

“By the way, town is like 5 miles from here. Any questions?” You look at the cloaked figures standing stiffly behind you. Both of them holding onto the handle of a large wooden wheelbarrow, “okay then, let’s get going!” You begin a brisk walk ahead of them as the two stumble behind you.

The town was bustling with life, creatures other than elves and humans roamed the streets. Creatures that Momo and Sana had never seen before like fairies, gnomes, wizards, and even a cyclops. They were astonished. Following you like lost puppies, you went from one stand to another, conversing with the sellers and buying food and little trinkets you found fascinating. Many suspicious looks were thrown at the two, but you worked it out by coming up with quick distractions.

As you make your way to one particular stand, the owner jumps for joy at the sight of you, saying, “Oh little Y/N! How have you been?” You’re brought into a hug by an elderly elf, “Never better, how have you been, Aunt Becky?”

The lady chuckles, “Oh, the same old life with the same old husband! Frank still likes to nag at every living thing that breathes in his direction!”, the woman scoffs, but her eyes catch the two mysterious figures behind you. “who are these two?” You stiffen at the question, “Uhhh, they're some human friends, yeah! They’re a little shy” You whisper the little bit at the end, Aunt Becky nods, suspiciously eyeing the two, before moving behind her stand.

“So I’ve got something just for you, little elf!” Your eyes light up, as you watch the older elf take out a box, “is it what I think it is?!” You practically squeal, clapping your hands in excitement. Sana and Momo tilt their heads to get a better view, wondering what it is that’s making you so excited? The box is opened, and you gasp, “oh my gosh, it’s a fully griffin feathered duster!” You pick it up and look at the duster in awe, “how much? I’ll get it now!” You run your hands through the tough feathers sighing at the feeling. Momo and Sana stand there shocked, they were expecting something else, not sure what but definitely something else.

“It’ll be three hundred silver coins.” Your jaw drops.

“What? No way! The-three hundred? C-c’mon Aunt Becky could you throw in a discount? I don't have that much!” The gray-haired elf shook her head,

“Sorry Y/N, I need to make a living! Giving out discounts won’t help me pay for food. Plus these are real griffin feathers we’re talkin’ ‘bout here! Three hundred is pretty cheap if you ask me!” You frown nodding, “maybe next time then” You sound defeated as you turn away, “let’s go to the tailor’s stand guys”

You needed the money to buy the two clothes but before you could step away Sana drops a tiny leather pouch onto the stand and Momo picks up the box. Sana takes your hand as Momo carefully sets the box into the wheelbarrow. Aunt Becky raises an eyebrow and opens the pouch and out spews coins not silver coins, but coins made of pure gold. And your jaw drops once again, “Where did you two…?” You were at a loss for words, as Sana holds your hand and walks towards the tailor’s stand that had been passed earlier, Momo scoffs as she watches you walk away with Sana, she tugs at the wheelbarrow, mumbling a quick “keep the change” before trudging forward to catch up with you two.

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You guys were loading everything onto the wheelbarrow and you were still surprised at how rich they are, “Where did you guys get the money? I mean gold coins! Gold! Coins! Those things are an elf’s dream! Like are you two actually secretly super rich? Man, gold coins are so coo-”

“And up we go” You gasp when Momo suddenly lifts you up and sets you into the wheelbarrow right on top of one of the bigger quilts you got for them.

“You sit there and be cute and ramble about cute stuff till we get back home” Sana ruffled your hair and gently tugs at your ear before going to the front with Momo.

“Uh- okay then!” And you continue to blabber about how cool Sana and Momo looked, and then proceeded to talk about your new one of a kind duster and how you love it so much and that you’re going to use it every single day. But the blabbering comes to a stop not even half way back to your little cottage.

The sudden silence causes Sana to turn around to check on you, she finds you fast asleep, napping on the same quilt you were set on, hugging your griffin-feather duster. She chuckles a bit before turning her head back to the front, “asleep…” she murmurs, Momo hums.

“Should we take a break?” Momo looks over at Sana confused, she then scowls, “do you think I’m tired? Because I’m not”

“No, no, not at all” Sana shakes her head, “Just wanted to take a break, you up for it?”

Momo looks into Sana’s eyes, they didn’t hold any bad intention, her scowl twitches before she looks away with a huff, “...fine”

The gentle breeze swept across her hair as Sana closed her eyes and leaned against the large boulder, a sigh leaving her lips.

“It’s peaceful here” Momo who’s sitting on top of the boulder tilts her head confused, “what I mean is…” Sana looks up at Momo with a soft smile,

“There’s no violence here. No blood shed, no war. I’m not paranoid about turning death’s corner here every second of every day. Don’t you agree?”

Momo clenches her fists, “I don’t want to go back… I don’t want to leave them” Her confession, although not a direct answer was enough and had Sana smiling.

“Me too”

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“Let’s set everything up tomorrow, the sun is beginning to set'' You yawn after the three of you unload everything onto your couch—not after you wipe everything down before bringing them inside. The two find you cute as you stretch and rub at the tiredness in your eyes.

“That’s a good idea, sweets. You look like you’re about to fall asleep any minute” Sana rests her hand on her shoulder. Momo rests her hand on your lower back, looking down at you, “we’ll set up the bed, why don’t you go shower?”

You’re confused as to why neither of them tried to rip the other’s arm off you, but you’re too tired to question it.

The sound of running water is the only thing breaking the silence as Momo and Sana set up the normal sleeping arrangements, you sleep on the bed, only because the two feel nervous about breaking it. Both of them sleep on the floor, they layer some extra comforters and duvets you had laying around. You feel guilty always saying that their backs will ache in the morning because it’s not good for them, but they disagree. Momo finds your duvets much softer than the ones back in the barracks, and Sana can get lost in your scent after she switches pillows with you every other night before you could wash them. These nights with you have given them the best sleep of their lives, but that was after they learned not to be paranoid each night thinking the other was going to slice their throat in their sleep.

Sana yawns once she does her signature switch of the pillows, smelling your pillow and sighing. Momo notices the tiredness in Sana’s eyes, “I’ll shower after you” Sana perks up at the offer, “wait really! That’s a first, am I growing on you puppy?” Sana teases, a soft blush forms on Momo’s cheeks as she looks away, “just hop in the shower creep, you stink” Sana chuckles walking past you, into the bathroom you just came out of.

“Oh my Momo! Your face is red! Are you feeling okay? Are you sick? Gosh, you look misera-”

“I- I’m fine!”

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Momo lets out a yawn before she tucks herself in. You were peacefully asleep on your bed, still hugging that expensive duster like your life depended on it. Her hair slightly damp as she adjusts her position, she turns but her breath hitches once she comes face to face with a sleeping Sana. The way the moonlight shines on her face, her pale skin almost sparkling. Her hair laid out so gracefully, her eyes trailing from Sana’s lips to her nose, her cheeks, stopping at the bandage hiding the burnt skin that existed underneath. For some reason, her heart churns, not with satisfaction but with guilt.

She raises her hands up, her fingers gently grazing the spot. The longer she stares, the more the guilt begins to drown her. Her fingers trail with her eyes, from Sana’s bandage to her cheeks, her nose, and then to her lips. Then her hand is held by another, and Momo looks up and notices Sana’s red eyes staring right into hers, a smirk curling. It’s a blur for Momo, and she’s confused. She doesn’t know why she likes it, but she does. She likes the way Sana pushes her onto her back, how Sana straddles her, how Sana leans in, and how her breath fans against her ear.

"Momo,” Sana teases, “have you perhaps… taken a liking to me?” She smirks down at the werewolf, trailing her hands against her neck. Momo can feel her heartbeat, swallowing nothing before mumbling, “and... if I have?”

Sana smirks and bites her ear, Momo’s breath hitching, “then I’d know you feel the same.” Another blur, and Momo feels nibbles and kisses trail her face and down to her neck, but just as fast as they came, they disappeared. A sudden sound of something falling is heard from one side of the room—your side. Your prized duster lay on the floor as you looked at the two, gawking at what you just witnessed.

“No way. Am I- Am I dreaming?” You mumbled, a deep red blush covered your face and ran up to your ears and down your neck. Momo and Sana look at one another, slightly surprised, before smirking.

“Oh darling, we’ll make you feel like your dreaming, c’mere”

#twice x reader #twice imagines #twice drabbles #momo x reader #momo imagines #sana x reader #sana imagines #twice #twice imagine #sana x momo

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