#She spends ages trying to find clues as to who it could be

[afrogwhocantdraw]

Spiderman Au p2

Ashlyn!!

She has "the killies" as part of her suit and they help her grasp walls better when she's still getting used to her spider sticking-to-wall thing (she also has the equivalent of the killies on her gloves to help with combat).

Part of her suit is also her noise cancelling headphones because it can get overwhelming in fights (like in the fight with Barron) but she can adjust the affect if she's trying to track someone.

Also she like to travel with her hair outside of her suit because it's more comfortable but when she needs to remain as undercover as possible she tries to get her hair like she wears it to ballet (whenever she finds it difficult Tyler gets annoyed on her behalf and does it for her)

Taylor (as spider-woman, so they don't know it's her) while giving the group tips has often said Ashlyn will find movements easier cause of her flexibility (she's right).

Also she's saved Aiden from hitting the floor more times than she can count (often because he was trying to show off and it ended up backfiring)

im not sure who to do next, it'll probably be Ben or Tyler

[puckinghischier]

Tentastrophe

Nico Hischier x Fem!reader

summary: reader and nico are in a secret relationship while on a camping trip together

notes: hi lovies! i got this request from my dear 🏔️ anon so i had to get right on it!! this was so fun to write and even more fun to play out in my head while i was writing it 🤭. also i had no clue what to name it so i quite literally just made up a word 🫣. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: We’re camping and my tent ripped, can I please share yours?

[5.1k]

You hated the outdoors. Truly, you despised being outside.

You hated bugs, you were scared of wild animals, you hated the heat, you hated dirt, grass made you itchy, and you really hate the lack of indoor plumbing.

Literally, how do people enjoy spending a week out in the middle of nowhere, no signal for miles, no air conditioning, and eating the same four types of canned food? Not to mention your dislike of sleeping bags.

Who wants to sleep on a flimsy piece of material on the hard ground for days at a time? It’s just simply not appealing.

You continue to list off the things in your head you hate about camping and the outdoors in general while watching yourself be driven farther and farther away from the city through the windshield of Jack’s SUV.

“Oh c’mon, Y/N, don’t look like someone just kicked a puppy in front of you,” you hear from the front seat, Jack looking at you through his rear-view mirror.

You roll your eyes at him.

“Jack, I’m being taken to a remote location against my will with no access to a bathroom or civilization for seven whole days. At least if someone kicked a puppy in front of me, it’d be over sooner.”

“Woah, so you’re advocating for puppy kickers now, are you?” A new voice rings out, this one belonging to Dawson, who occupies the seat against the window beside of you.

“She’s not advocating for it, Dawson, she’s just saying she’d prefer it to being stuck in the woods with you for a week straight,” Holtzy responds from your other side, having been sandwiched between the two in the backseat of Jack’s car for the hour and a half ride to your unfortunate destination.

Dawson reaches behind your head to smack Alex’s. Alex tries to retaliate, and suddenly you have two hockey players trying to fight each other on either side of your body.

“Hey! Cut it out before you hurt Y/N! Coach needs her to get good footage this weekend,” Luke yells at the two forwards.

“Wow, thanks for showing me where my worth lies, Luke,” you deadpan.

Luke flashes you a grin before turning back around in his seat. “You’re welcome.”

You stick your tongue out at him, knowing he’s just teasing you.

When you applied for a marketing internship at the Prudential Center a year ago, you had no idea that you would become so invested in this world. After the initial six month period of your internship was over, you were making plans to find work elsewhere when you were approached by the team’s GM and asked if you were interested in staying on full time as the new social media manager.

You immediately agreed, knowing you had found your passion with working in sports and wanted to stick with it for as long as you could. It didn’t hurt that you had become such good friends with a handful of the players close to your age, four of which were in the same car as you right now.

You and Jack were the closest, though. The two of you bonded over your shared love of country music, a rare find outside of your southern hometown. You had found other interests in common, too, but becoming each other’s country music concert buddy is to credit for much of your friendship.

You grew close to Luke simply because of your proximity to Jack, but found that he’s become a little brother to you. People always assumed there was more than friendship going on between you and Jack, but both of the Hughes boys had become the brothers you never had, no feelings beyond that ever surfacing.

As your job continued to cause you to spend time with the team, you found yourself growing closer to other players as well.

Nico was another player you found yourself talking to long after your work duties were done for the day. Whether it was chatting before practice, pulling him a little too frequently to do interviews or make videos, or grabbing a bite to eat after practice and games because neither one of you wanted to end your conversations, you found the Swiss captain occupying a large chunk of your time both at work and outside of work.

Which doesn’t make it all that surprising that he asked you to be his girlfriend three months ago.

After a huge win over the Islanders at home, the entire team had decided to go out to celebrate. You had caught a ride with Jack that morning, but when you were searching for him so you could leave, he was nowhere to be found, already gone to whatever bar everyone had agreed on.

Nico had stayed behind to do a few extra post-game interviews, so when you bumped into him outside of the locker rooms on your search for Jack, he offered you a ride. You had mentioned how hungry you were, telling him you should probably go home and grab something to eat and change before getting an uber to the bar, but Nico had pulled into the first late-night diner he saw after you mentioned your lack of eating dinner.

The two of you sat in the 50’s themed diner for hours, ignoring all the calls and texts asking where you were and why you didn’t come out to celebrate. You didn’t even realize how late it was until you received a text from Jack, asking that you call him when you got up so he knew you made it home safe, apologizing for forgetting you at the arena.

Nico walked you up to your apartment after driving you home that night, despite the fact it was after three in the morning and they had a mid-day practice the next day. You still don’t know if it was the high of winning or the late hour, but he decided to kiss you at your doorstep that night. Three days later, he asked you to be his girlfriend because he told you he couldn’t stand not being exclusive with you for a second longer.

No one knew, though. You kept on acting as if nothing had changed at work, and no one caught on otherwise. You decided it was fun to keep it to yourselves, enjoying being each other’s secret. You didn’t know the policy on dating your coworkers, either, so you didn’t want to risk anything by outing the relationship this early.

You felt bad lying and sneaking around Jack and Luke, especially, but you’ll tell them eventually. You enjoyed having no eyes on you, your relationship being simply between you and Nico right now. When you tell your friends and the rest of the team, it’ll be out there for good. Fans will find out, your boss will find out, and then your small bubble of Nico will burst.

That’s another reason you dread this weekend. Not only do you just hate camping and being outside for long periods of time, you’re going to be stuck being around Nico for a week straight with no chance to be his girlfriend instead of his coworker.

The trip is the team’s pre-season bonding activity, so you’re tagging along to capture material for future videos and pictures for the various social media pages and website. You had tried to send one of the other members of your media team, not thrilled at the idea of a camping retreat, but the head coach had requested you, specifically, because of your ability to convince the players to participate in various trends and videos.

You owe some of that to Nico, of course. After the two of you formed a friendship, he started telling his teammates they had to participate in whatever silly tasks you asked of them or he’d start reporting them to coach for making your job harder. Since his forceful request, you rarely had to fight to get any of the players to do the latest trending dance, or answer silly questions as they get on the ice before practice.

Unfortunately for you, this means the higher ups see your success and suddenly you’re volunteered to do things like this. And really, what kind of social media content can you create when you won’t even have cell service?

Tuning back into your surroundings, you notice you’re almost to the campground you’ll call home this week. You were so lost in your own head that you barely even noticed the four (grown) men in this car with you singing loudly to the F.U.N. song from none other than Spongebob Squarepants.

Jack and Luke were duetting the song, Jack taking the sponge’s part and Luke singing Plankton’s lines. Dawson and Alex were simply adding harmonies.

You were in for a long week.

———————————————————————————

“Who in their right mind would put a twenty-four year old teenage girl in charge of putting together her own tent?” you whine out as Curtis walks over to see you trying to read the directions for putting together the tent laid out in front of you.

“Honey, I think you’re a little too old to be calling yourself a teenage girl,” he chuckles as he kneels beside you, taking the instructions out of your hands.

“I’m just a girl, Lazar. I will always be a teenage girl at my core, no matter what age I am. Therefore, I’m a twenty-four year old teenage girl. And I’m extremely incapable of building a fucking tent,” you cry out, crossing your arms and huffing.

Curtis just shakes his head and laughs, grabbing the rods that go inside of the tent to give it structure, putting it together for you.

You sit back and watch, trying to help where you can, but ultimately being reverted back to the role of ‘holding the flashlight for dad’, but instead you’re ‘holding the mallet for Curtis’.

Halfway through putting your tent up, you see Nico start walking in your direction. You admire your boyfriend, his tan skin showing due to his green t-shirt being stuck in the pocket of his athletic shorts instead of on his torso. His black hat sits backwards on his head, hiding what you’re sure is sweaty hair. His favorite pair of sunglasses rest on his nose.

“Already making the guys do your dirty work, how dare you, Y/N,” Nico teases as he stops to stand in front of where you’re sitting on the ground.

“Listen, one perk of being a woman in sports is the fact that I’m always surrounded by men just waiting to save the damsel in distress,” you put your hand across your forehead to hide the sun from your eyes, squinting your eyes as you look up at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, flashing you a smile.

“Need any help, Curtis?” Nico calls out, but keeps his eyes on you.

“I think I’m nearly done, but if you want to start hammering the stakes in the ground that’d be great,” Curtis replies, not even looking up from the tent that had now taken shape.

“Sure thing. The mallet, please,” he reaches his hand out to you.

You hand Nico the mallet, looking up at him with an amused grin. “Get to it, time to do manly stuff and go pound on something .”

You start to stand and Nico shoots his other hand out for you to grab onto, helping you heave yourself off the ground.

Once you’re stood in front of Nico, he pulls your hand toward him so you’re standing dangerously close to him, your chests nearly touching. You look around, making sure no one sees the position the two of you are in right now.

Nico leans down, lips grazing your ear as he whispers “Unless you want me to drag you behind a tree and do extremely un-coworker type things to you with the entire team right here, I suggest you don’t talk about pounding anymore this weekend.”

A shiver makes it way down your spine as Nico steps back, walking over to where Curtis is now standing, turning to face the two of you.

You hope he assumes the redness on your face is because of the warm sun, and not because his captain just threatened to do R rated things to you behind a tree.

Ten minutes later, your tent is fully assembled and you’re blowing up your air mattress with a battery powered pump that’s seen better days.

Jack had laughed at your for bringing an air mattress, claiming it’s not really camping if you don’t sleep in a sleeping bag. You told him you refused to sleep on the ground with just a thin bag underneath you for the whole week. If you had to be here, you were going to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

You even brought a battery powered fan to sit in front of your bed incase you got hot at night, but you learned very quickly that even though it’s hot and humid during the day, the night is chilly and dark.

After everyone had settled in and the sun had set, Timo had managed to start a fire, placing hot dogs on a small grate he placed next to the fire while Jesper worked on opening cans of various types of vegetables to heat along side the sausages.

You laughed to yourself, knowing the team nutritionist would develop an eye twitch seeing what foods will be consumed by the players this week. The amount of sodium and carbs in the containers of food for the week were definitely not in line with the meal plan.

Finding a spot next to Jack, you go sit on one of the various logs around the fire, needing the heat to warm your chilled skin. Music played out of a speaker sitting on the picnic table behind the logs, one of your favorite country songs filling the space.

“Nice choice, it’s one of my favorites,” you nudge Jack’s shoulder as you sat down, assuming he had control of the music.

“Yeah it’s a good one, but don’t look at me. Cap’s the one with the aux right now,” he says, pointing to where Nico is standing by a tree, red solo cup in his hand.

You turn your head and make eye contact with him, his eyes having already found you. The raise of his cup and tilt of his head telling you he played this song specifically for you. Your face heats and you smile at the ground, trying to keep the grin from stretching too wide, not wanting to raise suspicion from the brunette to your right.

“Y’know, I wonder why Cap has any country music in his playlist at all, because last I checked, his phone was full of rap and Swiss music and he told me country was his least favorite genre,” Jack starts, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music and chatter. “But then I remembered, I see you and him talking an awful lot after practice, before practice, and everywhere in-between.” You feel like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, worried Jack’s figured the two of you out. “You’re not cheating on your music buddy, are you?” he asks, looking at you suspiciously.

Relief washes over you. He just thinks you’re sharing music with Nico. Not that you’re seeing Nico behind everyone’s back.

“I might have mentioned a few good artists to him. But don’t worry, concerts are still reserved for you,” you bump his shoulder again.

“Mhmmm. Must have taken a lot of convincing to make a rap loving Swiss man convert to Zach Bryan,” Jack hums, still looking at you suspiciously.

“Just a few links sent is all,” you tell him, noticing he’s just staring at you. “What?” you ask, leaning back a bit.

“Nothing,” Jack shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with an idea. “Just thinking…have you ever thought about going out with Cap?”

You choke on air. You try to recover with a cough, claiming you swallowed the wrong way. “What, what do you mean?”

“You know, like you and Cap. Going on a date. Dating. I think you two would be good together. You guys already seem friendly enough, and he’s a great guy. Plus, I can see the way you look at him, Y/N. You definitely have a crush on the guy,” Jack teases.

You start laughing. Jack is confused by your reaction, not thinking his suggestion was funny at all, but you can’t stop the laughs from escaping.

“Oh, Jack. You’re funny,” you tell him once you calm yourself down. “That’s nice, but nah. I don’t think Nico and I should go there. Too many things could go wrong, y’know? Plus, who even knows if I’m allowed to date any of you guys. Workplace romances are frowned upon in most jobs, you know.”

“Okay, it wasn’t that comical of a suggestion. I was being serious, I think you guys would be great together. To hell with the rules. I can tell when two people are into each other,” Jack says with a hint of annoyance, not appreciating your little laughing outburst.

A look of surprise makes its way onto your face at his comment that he thinks Nico is into you, too. Maybe the two of you weren’t doing such a good job at acting normal around the team. You succeed at suppressing the laughter this time, figuring a second outburst would really make Jack upset. “Oh, you think he’s into me, do you?”

Jack looks at you like you just asked him if the sky was blue.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, he literally jumps at the chance to be in any of your tik tok videos and he threatened the whole team so they would quit, and I quote, ‘making your job harder and just fucking do what you ask’ or he’d report us to coach.”

You can’t help but giggle this time, of course knowing all of this, Nico having told you himself after he did it, but you can’t let Jack know that.

“I don’t know, Jack, that doesn’t exactly sound like something he’d do. What does he get out of it? More interruptions during practice? More attention on social media? Doesn’t sound like Nico if you ask me,” you tell him, trying to play dumb.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe he gets to spend more time with you. He gets on your good side, helps make your job easier while making ours harder. Earns brownie points to butter you up so you say yes to a date one of these days,” Jack leans his head towards yours, looking up at you like he’s just proven his point.

You steal a glance over at Nico, his head cocked, silently asking what you and Jack are talking about. You shake your head with a smile, telling him its unimportant with the roll of your eyes.

“I don’t know, Jack. We’ll see, I guess,” you sing song, earning a sigh from the boy to your right.

“You’re hopeless, both of you. I need another beer,” he gets up, leaving you on the bench by yourself, chuckling at just how right your best friend is.

After all of the burnt hot dogs and lukewarm veggies were eaten, it was time to for everyone to retire to their tents.

All of the players had to double up on tents, you and the coach being the only two people with their own. The players that were sharing tents on this trip would be sharing hotel rooms all season, so the bonding began with them being able to exist in the same space for an extended period of time.

Your tent sat about 50 feet from Jack and Luke’s. Nico’s tent was in the row of tents in front of yours, three tents separating the two of you.

You quickly made your way to your own tent and started getting ready for bed. Not being able to wash your face or do you proper skincare routine, you settled for brushing your teeth with a warm bottle of water and applying lotion to your face before crawling into your make-shift bed for the week. You hadn’t packed nearly enough blankets, seeing as you assumed it would be warm inside your tent, but you were chilled to the bone. You kept your sweatshirt on, opting for a pair of sweatpants instead of the skimpy sleeping shorts you brought.

You settled into your bed, switching off the small lantern you had been provided.

You laid there for what felt like ages trying to fall asleep. Every little snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made you scared a bear was about to claw its way through your tent.

You thought you had imagined it at first, assuming the wind was blowing and causing your tent to slightly ruffle in the wind. But when it happened a second time, this time the sound of something fiddling with the zipper of your tent following the ruffling, you were starting to panic.

You sat up, pulling the blanket to your chin as you saw a hand push on the door of your tent, a quiet yelp making its way out of you.

“Shhh, it’s just me, let me in,” you hear the familiar, accented voice of your boyfriend ring out, huffing while walking over and unzipping your tent just enough for him to slip through.

You walk back over to your air mattress, turning on the small lantern, looking at Nico standing in the middle of your tent. He was wearing a tan sherpa fleece with plaid pajama bottoms. He had to hunch over slightly, his height being too tall for your small tent.

“What the hell are you doing in here? You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” you whisper yelled at him, careful to not raise your voice too high as to not wake any of his teammates.

“My tent ripped, can I please share yours?” Nico asks with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, yeah? If your tent ripped then where’s Jesper sleeping, huh?” you raise your eyebrow and cross your arms.

“I just left him to fend for himself. Didn’t exactly want to invite him to sleep in here with us. Never know what he might see,” he walks towards you, placing his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

He looks down at you, your position mirroring earlier when this exact tent was being assembled, but you had no fear of anyone seeing you now.

“Hi, Schatz.”

You giggle up at him, unraveling your arms and placing them on his shoulders. “Hi Neeks.”

“I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he mumbles before bringing his face down to yours.

You lean up on your tip toes to meet his lips, sighing contently into the kiss.

Nico pulls you closer, no space left between your bodies as his sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing against him into the kiss.

His tongue swipes across your lips, asking for entrance, and who are you to deny his wish? His tongue slips into your mouth, effectively deepening the kiss.

Nico walks you backwards until you plop down onto your air mattress, bringing his knee to rest in-between your legs, his forearms on either side of your head to support his weight.

You tug on his hair slightly, earning a groan in response. He starts grinding his pelvis against your thigh, which was your sign to stop this before it got too out of hand.

You pull back, pushing him up off of you slightly. He looks down at you with blown pupils and swollen lips. “Alright, tiger, slow down. We’re not having sex with several tents full of your entire team a few feet away.”

Nico deflates and brings his forehead to rest against your shoulder. “You couldn’t have told me that before I got a stiffie?”

“Sorry, shouldn’t have let yourself get so worked up. Should’ve known I wasn’t going to go there with this many people around,” you laugh at his whiney tone.

He rolls off of you onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes.

“What are you doing? Quit being so dramatic,” you roll your eyes, trying to grab his arm and remove it from his face.

“Stop, trying to think of sad puppies to make my boner go away,” he swats your hand off of his arm.

You bust out laughing for the second time tonight, but this time you throw a hand over your mouth to stop the noise. The conversation about puppies in the car on the way here earlier making its way to your mind, making you laugh even harder.

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” Nico finally says, sitting up.

“Good. Don’t even think about getting handsy, either. This,” you gesture between you and Nico, “is not happening tonight. Or any night this week, for that matter.”

“Got it. You don’t want any of my teammates to hear you scream my name while my tongue is ins-“ you slap a hand over Nico’s mouth, not letting him finish that sentence.

His eyes shine with amusement at you, seeing your own wide in surprise. “Can I trust you to take my hand off of your mouth?” you ask him.

Nico shakes his head, but not before he darts his tongue out and licks a stripe up the palm of your hand, causing it to fly off of his mouth.

“Okay, you’re disgusting,” you scold him, wiping you hand on the blanket you’re both sitting on top of.

Nico just laughs at you in response, finding your annoyed expression amusing.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed. I’m already sick of you and the week hasn’t even started yet,” you tell him, pulling the blanket back so you can settle under it.

Nico follows your lead and places himself under the blanket at well, pulling your body close to his.

You lay your head on one end of your pillow while Nico places his on the other end, not having brought his own from his tent. The two of you just lay there facing each other for awhile before you remember to reach over and turn off the lantern once again.

You’re appreciative of the new warmth Nico brings to your bed, finally feeling yourself get sleepy.

“Wait, how are you going to know when to wake up before everyone else and go back to your tent?” you ask him, knowing his phone was in his vehicle, none of the players allowed their devices with them. You and coach were the only ones with phone privileges this week, even though they didn’t even work out here.

“Don’t worry, I will. First time I wake up I’ll sneak out, don’t worry,” he assures you, kissing you on the forehead before pulling your body flush to his, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Neither one of you must have woken up at all during the night, though, because when you wake up the next morning to the screams of “I knew it! I knew they were into each other! I told you so!” from your best friend as he stood inside your tent at the end of your bed with not only Luke, but with half of the team standing outside the wide open door of your tent, you were confused until you felt the weight of a body against yours. You open your eyes to see Nico’s scrunched face, the noise waking him up as well.

You both roll over and open your eyes, noticing your audience.

“I called it! I knew there was something going on here! How long have you two been together?” Jack bombards the two of you with questions despite you having literally just woke up.

“Get the hell out of this tent before I get coach to make everyone run three miles today,” Nico grumbles, his voice gravely from the early hour.

“No way, we need an explanation,” Dawson speaks this time, his expression matching Jack’s pleased one.

“You’ll get your explanation, but for right now, get out. Let us actually wake up without fifty people in our fucking tent. Now go, get out,” Nico pulls you closer to him, hiding your face in his chest and slinging a leg over your own.

“But-“ Jack starts again, but Nico removes an arm from around you and points at the door, “OUT!” he says sternly, his captain voice making an appearance.

The group of men start grumbling, but ultimately leaving your tent, zipping your door back up so you and Nico could have a bit of privacy again.

“Nico, you didn’t wake up,” you say, your voice muffled because of how close he’s holding you to his body.

“Sorry, Schatz. Was sleeping too good, I guess. Always happens when I’m sleeping with you. You’re like my own personal melatonin.”

You chuckle at him, not really mad that everyone found out, just wishing they hadn’t found you asleep together on a tiny air mattress.

“At least the boys know now. Now I don’t have to keep sneaking around at practice. I can stare at your ass loud and proud now,” Nico says, detaching himself from you and rolling over onto his back, rubbing his eyes.

You reach over and hit him in the chest. “This doesn’t give you permission to say innapropriate things to me while we’re at work.”

He rolls his head to look over at you, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiles innocently, causing your to roll your own eyes and sigh at him.

“Hey! You guys better not be having sex in there! I’m implementing a no bone zone when I’m within a hundred feet of you two! Get your asses out here and get to explaining!” you heard Jack shout once again, beating his fist on the side of the tent.

You bring your hands up to cover your face, embarrassment flooding your veins.

“Jack! Suit up, you’re coming with me on a little run,” you hear coach shout, earning a “Shit, Nico this is your fault!” from Jack.

You burst into a fit of giggles.

You can’t help but feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest, not having to lie to some of your closest friends anymore. You also foresee your week of no time with Nico changing slightly, figuring Jesper will be down a roommate for the remainder of the week.

Nothing, though, not even sharing a tent with Nico, or sneaking off to find open areas to gaze at the stars at night, could make you like camping.

You almost change your mind the night Nico takes you to a clearing, laying a blanket on the soft grass to stare up at the sky before he gifts you a necklace with his initial on it, the engraving on the back echoing the small “I love you” he whispers in your ear as he clasps the jewelry onto your neck.

You almost thought you liked camping then, until you walked back to you tent to find Nico had left it unzipped and a possum had made a home in the corner, hissing at him as you screamed loud enough to wake the whole team.

Yeah, you hate camping.

[moosesarecute]

Part 2: The shadows sing

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Azriel was going crazy. He was sure of it.

How can someone be obsessed with someone’s eyes?

He had only gotten a small glimpse, but he couldn’t think about anything else.

He even almost lost the annual snowball fight, because he was daydreaming about the mystery female’s eyes.

It had been in the middle of the last battle against Hybern, so over two years ago.

For the longest time, he didn’t even think about the female. He lived his normal life.

However, he started to dream. And in the dreams the eyes would look directly into his. They were so sparkly and bright. Azriel couldn’t forget them.

He had been seeking for the female. Not obsessively, of course, but if he had time. Or if he finished his tasks early. Or if he asked Rhys for a couple more days or hours so that he could spend longer time away.

He had been all over Prythian, all the courts, on the ground and in the sky. The female had disappeared from the earth.

The only thing he knew was the female’s eyes and that she looked like she controlled the naga out on the battlefield.

It was so graceful to watch. The naga was steered away from all the people that fought against Hybern and towards all Hybern soldiers. It was almost like it was tamed.

After seeking for almost a year, he realized he needed help. He had to find this female, but he has no clue where to look.

He decided that during the next boys night with Rhys and Cassian, he would ask about the naga on the battlefield.

“You remember the naga that was let loose during the last battle?” He asked. Rhys and Cassian nodded hesitantly, they didn’t often talk about the war. “Who do you think let it out?”

Rhys sat back in his chair and Cassian took a sip of his drink.

“I have no clue, I was busy dying,” Rhys said trying to make a joke.

Both Azriel and Cassian glared at him, none one in the Inner Circle had fully forgiven him for that.

“But I seriously don’t know,” Rhys continued. “I know of a group of hunters who resides in The Middle, but we have no way of knowing if it’s truly them.”

“The Middle?” Cassian asked. “People actually live there?”

“It would give sense if it was them,” Rhys said and ignored Cassian’s question. “They basically live in their territory, so if anyone can tame a naga it would be them.”

Azriel felt his brain go faster and faster. He had been through The Middle countless times, how hasn’t he heard about or seen such a group? They can’t be many people, if they were he would have seen them, right? Was this female a part of the group?

“Azriel?” Azriel flicked his head towards the sound of Rhys’ voice. “Any specific reason why you’re asking?”

Azriel thought about telling the truth, but he suddenly felt embarrassed. He was obsessed with a female he had only seen once and only for a couple of seconds.

“The naga has just been on my mind lately,” Azriel mumbled an answer.

Rhys and Cassian shrugged and continued their conversation.

Azriel only thought one thing: he needed to get to The Middle.

He had a busy week and had not been able to leave his missions to look for the mystery female.

Until today.

He flew and shadow walked until he was in the middle of Prythian.

After spending some time getting to know his surroundings, he started spying.

The first shelter he saw looked like it would fall down at any time. The construction was mainly out of wood and even through the snow it both looked and smelled rotten.

It didn’t take his shadows long to figure out that it lived two high fae in the shelter. A pair of twins, a male and a female. Probably originated from the Day court.

Azriel hid in a tree and waited for the twins to emerge.

His heart was beating so fast and he felt more restless than he had in ages.

What if he finally was going to see the female again?

“You idiot!” He heard a masculine voice yell from inside the shelter. “We are not going for a fucking bird, when we can take a naga!”

The door to the shelter was thrown open and out stumbled two fae. Both looked like they had seen better days. They had cuts and bruises various places on their bodies and both had black eyes.

Azriel immediately knew that this was not the female that haunted his dreams.

“I’m just saying that since Y/N got I few hits in, maybe we should do something easy today and take the naga’s tomorrow,” the female argued. “When we have healed a little.”

Y/N

Y/N

It was the most beautiful name Azriel had ever heard. It seemed so gentle and sweet. He decided there and then that he needed to find this Y/N.

“You’re a coward,” the male said.

Not even a second later the female landed a punch to his jaw. The male swore and fought back, kicking his twin in the stomach.

“Very stupid,” Azriel’s shadows muttered.

Azriel just nodded and took to the shy without a sound.

It took him five minutes to get to a different shelter. However, this one almost looked luxurious compared with the other shelter. It had both windows and a sturdy roof and the walls was painted in a dark brown color.

“Old male, lesser fae,” his shadows informed him. “Leader.”

That made sense, the leaders always had more money and resources than the rest. Even though it was unfair.

“Hurt,” his shadows then told him. They swirled chaotic around him. “We found, pretty eyes, hurt.”

The shadows started to pull him and Azriel realized he had no other choice than to follow.

He started to get excited, but also stressed. Was the female hurt? He could maybe help her! But what if it wasn’t her? And what if it was her? What would he say? Hi, I’ve been dreaming about your eyes every night for a year? He couldn’t do that.

Azriel landed in a tall tree. He looked down on a small shelter. It was not as bad as the first one, but not as good as the leader’s.

It had four walls and a roof. The roof had a few holes, one much bigger than the others. It had one small window and a door, but other than that, it wasn’t much.

“Pretty,” his shadows continued to tell him. “She’s like you, but pretty. Friends!”

Azriel didn’t understand what they meant. Like him? In what way.

“She’s hurt?” He asked his shadows.

“Hurt, ribs, leg, head,” his shadows replied. “Stubborn, arguing.”

“Arguing with who?”

“Friends!” The shadows said, almost sounding like they were smiling.

“Her friends?”

“Our friends!”

Azriel wanted to ask what they were talking about, but he didn’t need to.

Out of the cabin walked a female. She looked short, but strong. She wore leathers and a old clock. It looked like it would be freezing.

The female closed the door and when she turned around, Azriel finally saw the big beautiful eyes he had been longing for. He felt enchanted. Completely lost in the shiny and sparkling eyes.

However, Azriel’s eyes soon became just as big as the female’s. Because surrounding her was a bunch of shadows.

They soon disappeared, all to different directions, but Azriel was sure he saw them.

The female walked slowly with a soft limp to her left leg.

After a few meters she was again covered in shadows. Azriel now had no doubt in his mind: she was a shadowsinger like him.

Before he thought about it, he had already left the tree and landed on the ground. Starting to move towards the female.

Before he could reach her, she disappeared into the shadows.

“Friends left!” The shadows whined. “Pretty eyes left!”

Azriel couldn’t do anything else then just staring at the spot where the female had disappeared.

“Find her,” he said and soon all his shadows started to work.

It didn’t take long for his shadows to find the female. What worried Azriel was the fact that they came back acting in chaos.

“Danger, hurt, pretty, naga, danger, help,”

They were screaming at him as they covered him and dragged him along where they wanted him to go.

When the shadows left him, he was in a clearing, still in the middle of the forest.

He hid in the shadows behind a tree and saw the female, armed with knifes, move carefully towards a naga. The naga was drinking from a nearby river and was too busy to notice the female.

She moved gracefully and quiet. Not making a sound as she put one foot in front of the other, even though the ground was covered in snow.

Unlike previously, the female was alone, no shadows in sight.

Azriel started to doubt what he had seen earlier. Maybe the female wasn’t a shadowsinger at all. Maybe he only hoped she was. If she was a shadowsinger, she definitely would have used her shadows when trying to take down a naga, she would be stupid otherwise.

Azriel didn’t think she looked stupid, she looked like she knew what she was doing as she stopped about 15 meters away from the animal.

She started to take her aim when Azriel noticed movement to the left of the female.

To his horror there was another naga, creeping up to her, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

Azriel remembered the twins he saw earlier talking about nagas. This female and the twins must be in the same business, he realized.

Azriel stood completely still as he saw the second naga getting closer and closer to the female. But she didn’t react to it, he didn’t even think she knew it was there.

But she had to know, right? If she was a shadowsinger she definitely would have known. Maybe he should help her, or maybe this was all a part of her plan? When did he suddenly become so indecisive?

The naga started to attack and Azriel moved on instinct.

He shadow walked directly behind the female and used truth teller to slice the naga over the neck. It fell to the ground, dead instantly.

“Mad.”

His shadows told him, sounding almost scared.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He heard the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. “I had it, I had everything under control. It was mine.”

Azriel turned around and met the sparkling eyes he had dreamed about for such a long time. He was speechless.

“You just lost me money, money I need. You fucking prick.”

Azriel was too enchanted by her beautiful voice to answer.

“Are you deaf or something?”

Azriel shock his head.

“Mute?”

He shock his head once more.

The female only rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”

She turned around and walked towards a nearby tree and pulled her knife out of it. She must have tried to get the naga and then missed.

However, she had two knifes and the other one seems to be missing. Maybe she got one hit, but not good enough for the naga not to run to safety.

“She’s leaving.”

Azriel got out of his enchantment and stormed towards the female.

He took hold around her wrist.

“Wait,” he said.

The female turned around, ripped her wrist out of his hand and before he could even react, she slapped him across the face.

Azriel felt more confused than ever. He was usually always a few steps in front of his opponent. For some reason, this female kept on making him distracted.

“What’s your name?” He couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to know.

The female just shock her head.

Buzz

Buzzzz

Buzzzzzzzzz

“Ouch!”

Azriel hit the insect that bit his neck.

He moved his hand and saw a small yellow bug.

He brushed it off on his leg and raised his gaze back to the female.

She looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Shit! Do you have the anecdote?” She asked him.

He almost laughed. He was a strong Illyrian warrior and she thought he needed an anecdote for a bug bite.

“I don’t need an anecdote for a small bug bite,” he told her.

But then he felt his hands get sweaty and his sight turned prickly. And not even seconds later, he hit the ground and lost consciousness.

[pricegouge]

I saw you were asking for horror prompts 😈 so here’s my scary perverted one:

Vampire!Nik who’s turned when his milaya is still a baby. Comes back 20+ years later to haunt and turn her so they can spend eternity together despite the fact that she doesn’t even remember him❤️🥀

-🗡️

okay, yeah. i had fun with this one, thank you!

cw: incest. age gap, but only kinda cause vampires. horror elements. vague vampire lore, including thralls. dubcon kissing/heavy petting. blood. unedited as usual, sorry. abrupt ending cause i ran out of steam. ~5k

he can't be bothered to watch over you for many years. life (death, rather) is just all so very exciting. he spread his wings. proverbial, maybe, though he's heard tell of something more ancient. more literal.

he doesn't forget you. how could he? you haunt his waking hours for what seems an eon, days and nights blurring until he has to rest for long years, wakes to a different time entirely and worries about how much he's missed.

much, as it turns out.

you're a proper woman when next he sees you, headstrong and borderline unrecognizable. he follows you for days, weeks. learns all your patterns, the quiet parts of yourself you seem to keep hidden behind locked doors he can only pass because he installed them, the bones of the house shaped by his own hands - an estate that's fallen to ruin, once-lavish halls picked apart by collectors, barren and drab with the dwindled staff. he tells himself it's a morbid type of curiosity but he knows better the second he lingers too long, sees you for the woman you've become when you undress before him, gazing upon yourself in a mirror that won't betray his presence, even if he wants it to. wants to see confusion cloud your face as recognition wars with your fear. you must have seen photos of him, your governess keeping you educated on the man who'd given you a name and a fortune and left in the night. he doesn't look quite look like himself anymore, but he more closely resembles you than he does his re-creator. and surely that in itself should sway you?

for you must be as lonely as him.

night fall is the worst for you, those lingering hours after the staff have retired where sleep eludes you, entices you to pick up hobbies which have not given you joy for many years. you'd been moved to the master suite some time back, the overlarge bed as tempting as a siren. you'd grown slovenly, your governess always said so. lax in your studies and far too melancholy to find a suitor.

but what could it matter, really? the estate had been searching tirelessly for a match since your first season, the only bachelors who'd made offers old and penniless. you still had a pretty enough dowry, but no one wanted to be saddled with the get of some wayward lord. not when there'd been no proper abdication. not when the specter of your father loomed over every inch of the estate, his fist still clutching at every gem. sometimes you imagined the sheets even still smelled like him, a faint trace that would linger some mornings and burn up with the sun when you finally let the maid in to draw the curtains.

but it was just a silly fantasy, some trace of comfort born from loneliness. in truth, the only possible clue you could have of your father's scent rests in the humidor tucked in the corner by the secretary - fine cigars turned stale, full-bodied notes now arid. hollow as the house itself.

you're sat with one, dry, peeling paper tickling your philtrum as you try to discern what flavors still linger. licorice, certainly; heavy and cloying. something earthier under it, a fine balance. leather, maybe. it's a distraction, a mindless way to pass the hours before you could feasibly fall into bed without your prying governess saying anything, shut your thoughts off for a time. you'd already written in your diary, another dull entry. brief with the monotony of your life. honestly, cataloging the notes you can pick out of these ancient, abandoned cigars would make for a more interesting read. this one still smells the strongest, though the paper has turned brittle with handling. sometimes you watch the gentlemen of the ton, carefully memorizing the precise way they snip the ends off, roll the cigar over the open flame of their lighters. you often imagine doing the same, like to picture yourself smoking the aged rolls expertly.

really, you know you'll end up in a coughing spell loud enough to wake the whole house, but the truth is you've never tried. it's a curiosity that's grown on you, the slow creep of moss over rotting trunks. you swap the cigar for something less flavorful, something that won't be missed, and rifle through the secretary until you find the little cigar kit you'd kept safely tucked away. maybe, like the rest of society, part of you expects it's owner to return someday, reclaim what's his.

the cigar falls apart a little, once clipped. flaky shreds of tobacco and other strong herb shake out at first, but you moisten the edges of it delicately, lick your fingers as daintily as possible and fuss about the paper until becomes slightly more malleable. lighting it is less of a chore than expected, the oils long dried. shake catching like tinder. you yelp and wave it out, stamp the little ashes that rain onto the carpet with a slippered toe. feel silly after. sillier still when you take your first drag and think for a moment you've managed to imbalance all your humors - immediate expectorant clogging your nose, inflaming the column of your neck. rough wool, still matted and nettled from the field fills your lungs and you cough, ragged and silent.

small blessing, no prying governess to heed your call.

light-headed, you wobble to the window, breathe deep of the frigid breeze you let in. winter steals in around you, rattles the pane on it's way past and sends the curtains fluttering. it makes your chest ache in a new way, but is a balm to your overheated skin, soothes your throat as you gasp for each breath. clutched in your fingers, the cigar glows brightly in the strong wind, crackling away happily. as your sinuses clear, you note the lingering heaviness of licorice, a black tar that seems to seep down your throat, gags you. you give it up for a bad job and smother it on the pane before tossing it onto the roof below. with any luck, a curious crow will snatch it away before spring melt off can dump it into the pasture, catch the attention of the gardeners. you've no clue how well-acquainted your governess is with the brands your father used to smoke and you've no plan to find out, resolving to leave the window open all night if you have to in order to clear the stench of your foolish endeavor.

the candles have guttered but it's no matter, the moon bright enough that you can disrobe and navigate to bed even without them. it's not a difficult endeavor anyway, the bed such a ridiculously oversized piece it dominated most of the room and called into question the size of the man who'd commissioned it. you drown in it most nights, restless, twisting yourself up in sheets that stretched on forever, wound around you until you'd wake gasping, clawing at your own belly as if to loosen the stays of a corset that wasn't there. the physician who'd come to see to you was unsympathetic to your claims that the bed was simply too large - had suggested sleeping in your corset instead, claiming it would soothe your nerves and prevent you trying to bind yourself in your sleep.

it did not work, but your maid, alice, was loyal to the governess. tied your stays in the back, much too tight for you to undo once she'd left you alone. even now the boning digs at you, chest still heaving from your foolish endeavor. you settle on your back, try to keep your shoulders set back to encourage deep breathing and watch the shadows play about the room, curtains billowing with each icy gust. there's still too much smoke in the room, lingering up near your ceiling where it swirls about, never quite low enough to escape when the curtains ebb in a back draft. you hope you won't be stuck with the window open all night. already, fine dustings of snow slip past, tip toe up your bed to catch your covers and set your legs shivering.

the blankets twist about you again when you turn to your side, but for once you don't mind, your own body weight keeping them tucked firmly in place so the wind can't steal your heat away again. your breath evens as you finally begin to relax, body forming to the mattress just as much as it forms to you. sleep finds you slowly, lulls you into it with deep sighs, your breath matching that of the house itself. you time idly, watching the curtains in the cloudy mirror of your vanity - the only concession to your residence in the whole room. a gift from some minor lady who'd once hoped to sway your favor toward her son - only to have him elope a month later with a merchant's daughter -, the piece stands out singularly in the dark, masculine room. gilded framework and ivory inlay, it catches the moonlight beautifully, pearlescent in the chill. you let yourself be entranced by the vision it makes, orpheus overtaking you, settling over you like a calming, physical weight which shifts, presses a knee between your own -

it feels like the chill has taken your blood when your eyes tear open, body frozen in place as you watch your reflection stir, pushed slightly further onto your belly while the blankets move seemingly of their own accord. you tell yourself it's the wind tugging at them again, but the way the flatten against the mattress makes no sense - and it's the not the wind that whispers your name in your ear.

still trapped in the bedding, you thrash uselessly before you're able to escape its clutches, only realizing you're screaming when the breath is knocked out of you as you thud to the floor. help comes to lift you to your feet before you are able to do it yourself, alice's hands surprisingly firm when they dig under your arms and lift. you can't even manage to thank her, breaths stuttering out high and thin as you stare at your bed in wide-eyed shock: two distinct impressions of bodies, one curled around the other, yet completely empty. smoke curls above it, oddly thinner than that what still lingers around your ceiling. it breaks up on the next gust of wind, shatters around you with a cloyingly sweet scent.

---

your governess is cross to say the least.

the next day is spent in the kitchens, working away your transgressions into a particularly hard dough batch. she is unsympathetic to the terror that had overtaken you just before they'd rushed in to help. says she's certain they'd only heard your fresh coughing, although you try to point out that the cigar was already gone by then.

"don't be clever," she warns, an adage you've heard many times over the years. What man wants a clever wife?

she has the humidor emptied, says it should have been done long ago. you say nothing because probably, she's right.

alice isn't your friend, but sometimes she can be friendly. unlike your governess, she at least seems to have noticed your distress from the night before, simply nods in agreement when you ask her to warm your bed after she's done helping you dress that evening. perhaps she still sees it, the fear. she hums at you like she thinks you need at, at least, and maybe you do because it works quickly, your body exhausted after so much hard work and such little sleep.

---

despite your exhaustion, you do not sleep soundly. the midnight hour finds you fretful, though you're careful to remain still so as not to wake alice. you breathe in sync with her in an attempt to soothe yourself until you realize it's not her that moves but the house itself, curtains billowing in a breeze that shouldn't exist, windows locked tight for the night. strangely, the realization does not frighten you - not even when you turn to find alice staring blankly at the ceiling, eyes glossed over and vacant. skin leeched pale in the moonlight. you roll over to her, curious, and her eyes track over you uncomprehendingly, focus on a point at the far side of the room.

there's no decision to sit up, you simply do - chest rising first as if an anchor knot is rooted in your sternum, woven between the hollows of your ribs. the world tilts for a moment, and then rights itself, as if alighting with you on this new level. you observe the room much as it had been the night before, cold light filtering through whorls of smoke, though there's more of it now - thin trails of oily residue curling all around the room. it seems to ebb about the edges. even with the window locked tight, the room still seems to contract and compress, pressure increasing rhythmically before expanding again, fresh smoke rushing to fill it. you track the trail back to its source, a pin point ember which builds and gutters with swell, bobbing along on a tide. it takes a minute for your eyes to adjust but you make out the hand that holds it first, long fingers painted warm in the low light. it's the only bit of skin you can make out, the body attached to it settled so far back into the shadow it appears only as one itself - darker, deeper. barely distinguishable.

by its immense stature, you reason it is a man sat at your secretary. like alice's composure, there is a part of you that knows this realization should frighten you, but you're much too tired and curious to care, crawling to the foot of the bed so you can get a better look, continuing on over the edge and onto the floor when you still can't make out his features. your palms scratch against the worn wood, bearing too much weight in your awkward crawl, and room stills when you feel blood on the heel of your hand, the heat of it almost shocking in the cold air.

you only make it another stretch closer before the man recovers, the ember of his cigar flaring and popping as he takes a long drag, leans forward in his seat until you can make out a broad, stubbled jaw, two perfect white streaks glowing in the moonlight revealed when he finally drops his hand. his lips are wine-dark when they part, reveal a neat row of pearly teeth. he's impolite, blows his smoke directly at you. cloyingly sweet licorice and heady tobacco. you do not cough this time, though it's a near-miss. it seems to please him, lips tugging into a cruel smile as the smoke grows denser, begins to pour from his mouth in a thick, black cloud. it stains his chin, his teeth a black tar-like oil that smells too pungent. rotted.

you startle when alice screams, overcorrecting when you turn to her because she's there beside you, not behind, both of you still lying in bed.

"alice?" you start, trying to wake her, but your hand slips across her chest, slick with something dark and hot, and you freeze, unable to do anything as she continues to sieze and shriek beside you.

the governess comes, and then a doctor. in the confusion, you're shuttled off to the chair across the room. you're already settled into it by the time you realize it's where the man had sat, and you briefly take inventory of it, as if perhaps you could feel the traces of his body heat lingering. but the only thing of note is the trace whisps of dark sweets, easily explained away by your own mishap the night before.

they clean alice's wound and find a neat ring of teeth marks, your own good name saved by virtue of the doctor recognizing that they'd had time to heal - must have happened some other night, that alice must have been picking at them in her sleep. your governess's obvious distaste stills your tongue, unwilling to face her wrath if she believes you sympathetic to some street hussy. so you say nothing, even as alice shrieks about a man, about being accosted. even as they call her hysteric and pack her off. instead you sit silently, picking off the blood the that had dried to your hand when you'd gone to wake her. never mentioning the scrape you find beneath it and the congealed line of your own blood; the cut from when you'd flopped out of bed to crawl to his feet. because you can still smell it, the stomach-turning sweetness, and the heavy scent it had given way to, and you know what it was now, staining his handsome chin just as much as alice's breast.

and it's not fear, or even pity that settles low in your belly, simmers hotter than that ember which had sparked to life, woken you to his call.

you follow them when they walk her out, a small team of men needed to keep her restrained. she fights to be heard, but a part of you worries she fights to stay as well, the claws she sinks into the door frame intended to keep herself put for him. you feel ugly and selfish when you traipse back to your room, but you do anyway, stopping only long enough to smell the beautiful bouquet of dark winter roses you pass on the sideboard. they're lovely and sweet, though you can't help noticing no one has bothered to cut the thorns off. careless. you wonder who got them.

---

it's not the only life taking root in the house.

despite the grueling winter, you notice sunshine in the halls, dust motes dancing in the pale light. sconces you've not seen lit in years keep the shadows of night at bay. spices find their way into your meals, a small luxury you've been missing greatly. you can see your governess watching the staff suspiciously, but don't dare ask if she has her theories.

---

there are cigars in the humidor. or maybe they aren't cigars, much thinner than the ones you're used to seeing. you've no idea how they got there, but neither do you know who to ask. who you can trust to believe you, even just long enough to look, see the proof for themselves.

but then, you're not sure you want anyone else to know.

they smell like his. dark and heavy, sickeningly sweet. it makes your stomach turn but you fish out the lighter anyway, throwing the windows open decisively. fresh air pours in around you, chases cobwebs from the corners. the sconses gutter before flaring back to life, leaving the room brighter than it's been in months, cleaner than it' felt in ages.

you hardly notice, too busy fighting the cough that builds in your throat as you take your first drag. you don't manage it, smoke sputtering sputtering from your mouth in fits and starts as you heave your way through a coughing fit, stomach turning with an unexpected wave of nausea. face turned to the cool relief of the window, you've got your cheek leaned up against the side of the pane when the smoke begins to waft away. it takes you a moment to make sense of the image revealed, inverted and near as it is. fear grips you before you even manage it, some fine-tuned instinct recognizing the viper at your feet and turning to run before you're even sure what you've seen.

but this is no viper, and the reaction warranted when faced with the immense silhouette of a man hanging inverted in your window, mere inches from your face, is to go still as a deer in the hunters' sights, evidently, and play the docile little pray.

he turns properly toward you, the shaggy hair dangling around his face catching in the wind. your cigar flares with it, wan light revealing pale skin and dark eyes which seem to glint in amusement when you stumble away, the whole of the picture revealed to you just as long fingers wrap over the top of the casement and pry it open, hinges groaning as they overextend to let his broad shoulders pass. he pours through the sill like butter from the pan, pools on your ceiling with a strong grip on your curtain rod. except, when he drops from it, he sinks from the rafters like a feather, none of the might his huge frame suggested anywhere to be found.

still reeling, your hip catches the edge of your wardrobe and you slip past it, put your back to the wall as quiet cries spill from your lips, pleas incomprehensible.

he greets you by name in a thick russian accent, and somehow, impossibly, you know, but you ask anyway, voice trembling. "who are you?"

a step closer, movements so fluid you can barely discern them. when did the candles go out? "your cleverer than that."

strange compulsion, you can't stop yourself before reciting, "men don't want clever wives."

"is that what you think i want? a wife?" amusement curls around the words, turns his accent lilting.

"i don't know what you want," you whisper, and he grunts - edging closer to irritation.

"and is that what you think i am, then? a man?"

"no…" the truth shocks you, has you casting about for an anchor. you only find confirmation when you catch sight of your vanity, the man in your room leaving no reflection. your cleverer than that. "you were here that night, weren't you? on the bed with me?"

"well, what's a man to do when he returns home to find a pretty young lady in his bed?"

"you're my father." it's not a question. you're not even certain you mean it as a chastisement. it is simple fact, roiling in your stomach like the nausea that lingers.

a fact he ignores, slipping closer and trailing cold digits over the inside of your wrist before taking the slim cigar from between your fingers. you weren't even aware you'd still had it. it glows back to life when he takes a deep drag, smoke spilling from his mouth when he speaks again, "do you like this one better than that other? they're very popular in paris."

you latch onto the wrong part of the question. "is that where you've been?"

"there," he shrugs. "everywhere."

more nausea, sinuses prickling with the added smoke. "anywhere but here?"

he doesn't seem to like this question, either, a stillness overtaking him. "i was… called away."

but if he can be angry, so can you. "for twenty four years?" you snap, voice ragged and sharp as it had been after your first inhale.

his stillness snaps, exasperation turning him away from you. he paces to the window and finally you can see more of his features - the high peaks of his hairline, the heavy brow and the broad nose. he's an older man, you know, and yet - he doesn't really look it, fine lines of his forehead no worse than a man ten, twenty years his younger. his voice is gruff when he speaks again. quiet. "a man can't help being needed -."

"you were needed hear!" you shriek, a reservoir of emotion you didn't know you'd kept dammed breaking free.

when he turns on his heel the candles flare again, and you gasp, shocked to find him suddenly before you, the wool of his overcoat scratchy even through your shift. he waits for you to settle, for your chest to stop heaving against his and your pulse to stop hammering so loud in your ears that you can't hear what he says when his lips move, tongue darting out to wet them. "am i no longer needed, then?" he finally asks, and you wilt against him.

"of course you are," you sob, trying not to notice his own breaths never come.

---

there's no precedent telling you what to call him. his name is improper, but 'father' leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. you plead of him 'my lord!' when his kisses linger too long and he groans, pleased.

you're not sure if you like him when he's pleased.

he frightens you, takes too much. he's a man of appetite as you should have known by the marks he'd left on alice, but you'd foolishly thought yourself untouchable, too gently borne to suffer such indignities. of course, the station of your birth matters little to your own father - if it indeed ever would have mattered to anyone at all.

but it's hard to refuse him when he's your father, and so huge, besides. his broad frame corrals you easily back toward the bed. he doesn't let you sink onto it until his kisses have trailed to the hinge of your jaw, cold nose nuzzling behind your ear. when he does breathe, his chest eclipses your own, tries to turn you concave, carve a space within you. his exhale stinks like his cigar, pressed into the corner of your lip.

it's improper. leaves you teetering between disgust and a guilty sort of pleasure, which only serves to repulse you further. your stomach turns, guilt eating its way up your throat. acrid with smoke.

the hand splayed over the column of your throat tightens minutely, long fingers threatening to pluck the tendons which flex when you gag. he misunderstands. "not supposed to inhale, you know?"

your head spins, the only relief from your mounting sickness found in the the cold relief of his hands against your cheek. "i didn't… i don't..?"

"shh. that's alright. papa will teach you. take this, it will help you feel better."

and your mouth when he does. wide, mimicking. eager for some tincture to help soothe your nerves. a strong dose to put you under, perhaps. he grins when you show him your teeth and a finger finds his own, long claw catching minutely on his lip when he drags the pad of his first two fingers over his canine. you're shocked when it comes away bloody - more so when he coos, eases them into your own mouth to stroke against your tongue. for a moment you're too shocked to respond, but then the heavy taste of blood coats your mouth and you thrash about under him, swatting and biting.

it only seems to encourage him, voice too thick with hunger and approval to be as soothing as he intends it when he tries to gentle you beneath him.

he gives up trying when his blood overflows your mouth, spilling over your cheeks as you continue trying to shake him off. he mutters something about a waste and then his other hand is pinching your nose, cutting off your air supply fully. you gurgle, trying to clear your mouth and he snarls, shoves his fingers deeper.

you're forced to swallow your mouthful when your vision begins to tunnel. he sighs in relief when you do, breath nearly as heavy as yours when you gasp and wheeze. he has the decency to drag his fingers down your chin as you struggle, staining all down your throat as he traces the path of the load you've swallowed.

"not so hard, was it?" he mutters, still painting your skin. you glare at him when you can finally manage it and he just chuckles, forces his fingers behind your bottom teeth again. even still the taste revolts you, tongue crowding to the back of you mouth to try and escape the cold copper, the thick licorice. if he notices, he is undeterred. makes you take even more when he pries your jaw open and spits in your mouth.

the vulgarity makes you heave, but his weight fights even that. keeps you in place when he shoves his fingers back until the webbing nestles against the corner of your mouth and his fingernails scrape against your throat. he feels when it constricts around him reflexively and his free hand smooths the hair back from your sweaty forehead, cold breath against your temple as he tells you to relax, voice fragmenting - somehow both soft, ethereal, and a very real rumble in your ear.

it's that quiet one that gets you, webs its way through your nerves until you're limp with it, energy sapped along with your will to disobey. his fingers pull back minutely, give you enough space to swallow the blood that's gathered at the back of your throat. when they push back in, he bids you suckle them in that same distorted voice and you do. easily, gratefully, and this time, the blood pools in your belly like an antidote. it soothes your nausea, leaves you hungry for more. he doesn't hesitate to provide it, fingers pumping in and out of your mouth as you begin to suckle at them, entreating him to stay nestled in the heat of your mouth each time he starts to pull away.

you're unsure how long he feeds you. long enough you that you feel sated and sleepy when he withdraws entirely. a strand of saliva follows him, snaps back to fall down your chest when he licks his own fingers after, thick tongue wiping clean what mess remains. his skin comes back whole and healed, a prospect that should surely frighten you, but there is no fear when you grow bold, pull him closer by a strong grip on the long strands of hair at his nape. his tongue is slick when it slides against yours, chasing the taste of himself. he follows it down your chin, panting against the column of your neck as his hands work up your chest, the pressure of them on your waist having been having gone unnoticed through your corset. his nails scrape your skin when he catches the hem of your dressing gown and finally, some base instinct flares back to life, tries to stay his hands with your own, fingers scrabbling against his. he just hushes you again, voice echoing softly between your ears. this time, when your fingers wrap around his wrists, it is simply an anchor for you, body feeling as though you may simply drift away under his care.

when his mouth finds your breast, you arch into him, bucking hard enough that he groans, lays his body flat over you to keep you in place as he feasts. even his weight is decadent, a relief from the way you feel untethered. he pinches your nipple between too-sharp teeth, soaks the fabric of your shift in saliva just to soothe you after. his mouth offers no heat, no balm for the frigid breaths he ghosts over the wet material. you beg for it anyway, fingers threading through his hair to keep him close. an instinct that will do you no good here, the man at your breast inhuman and cold.

it's a fact you can't escape from, not with his cold blood in your belly and his will in your head. not with his lupine teeth spreading wide over your heart, or the ecstatic relief when he finally bites down. your breath steams in the air as you pant beneath him, chest heaving into his mouth even as you try pulling him impossibly closer, and here, finally, is the heat - the bloom of blood that soaks your shift and warms your skin, even as you grow colder with the loss of it. he's insatiable, a man of appetite as you knew, and yet you give yourself freely, even as your breath grows stilted and shallow and your fingers twitch in his hair. he only surfaces when your vision grows cloudy, looms above you in a grisly mask of death turned two-tone with the moonlight and your fading vision. jaw stained dark, it appears an endless maw from which he speaks, demands to know if you'll join him in eternity.

and what girl could ever live without her papa?

dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/adornedwithlight

[silverwasafukintrainwreck]

any hcs about jeckole in 20 years ??

hey! sorry for the late reply, i’m out of my house lol (and i started writing this and it did not save. só i’m writing it all twice!!)

honestly, i don’t really think nicole makes it past college age in most timelines. but i like to think of the entire class of 09 universe as a game with multiple routes and endings, even during nicole’s childhood or adult years. so imagining a “route” of life where she and jecka start dating after high school or something.

-they would move in together straight after college. and while neither of them are fond of marriage, i think jecka would pull up a powerpoint presentation to explain all the government benefits of getting married. so they do, without an actual wedding, and without really considering each other to be wives.

-i have genuinely NO clue what either of them would have for jobs. jecka’s plan of marrying a rich man is out the window now, but nicole gave her a pass to trick any old guy with money into spending it on her. as for nicole herself, o think she’s eventually getting herself into customer service, specifically being a cashier (even if it’s temporary), purely because i think it’s hilarious.

-now, they both grew up in pretty aggressive households, like it or not. so while i don’t think they’d have tons of arguments involving serious stuff, tiny disagreements woukd escalate way more than they should. it takes a while for nicole to unlearn being defensive and jecka to realize nicole won’t hurt her. it’s a process.

-jecka would LOVE the idea of having pets. nicole, not so much. mostly because she’s scared. taking care of herself is already hard enough. jecka’s independent and nicole’s in love incredibly into her. so caring for jecka is easy. taking care of a whole tiny animal? one that depends on you completely, for food, health and affection? she doesn’t think she can handle it. nicole’s scared she’ll accidentally let the pet die. but honestly, should she care? she could just let jecka take care of it, or if the pet dies, just get another one. that’s the thought process her teenage self woukd have. but nicole is trying to be better. she doesn’t do therapy, but she’s trying. and maybe the pet will help her in a way…

-so. they eventually get a kitty. jecka’s absurdly in love with it; the cat gets spoiled and coddled constantly. she even pleads with her girlfriend (wife?) to let it sleep on their bed! nicole groans and protests, but ultimately lets the cat stay “as long as it doesn’t get on my side, i dont wanna wake up covered in fur.”

-kitty eventually tries to nuzzle nicole why she sleeps, who wakes up with the intent to shove it off. kitty looks up at her with babey eyes. nicole… doesn’t shove it. wakes up covered in fur.

-(jecka takes hundred of pictures of this.)

-both of them cut off their families entirely. no questions asked, no proper explanations (jecka would rather kill herself rather than explain to her father why his constant abuse would make her not want to talk to him). nicole’s exchange with her mim goes surprisingly “smoother”, if you can even call it that. purely because her mom wasn’t all that eager to keep talking to nicole. doesn’t mean there wasn’t a tantrum.

-maybe in their adulthood it’s already been long since their “who says ‘i love you’ first” drama. nicole still struggles with it though. dont get it wrong; it’s clear on her mind she adores jecka. she loves her. she’s in love with her. being vulnerable, however, isn’t a strong suit. for either of them. jecka just knows that nicole needs the reassurance. that’s why she says it first. and it’s why she says it over and over during their days together.

-jecka works on her patience. she knows nicole needs patience. all the self-sabotage and major drama has been left behind (most of it) in college. but nicole still needs patience. if anyone else did anything nicole does, jecka would find herself yelling. but other people aren’t nicole. and she’s not her father. she shouldn’t yell. nicole doesn’t deserve to have her yell.

-jecka would also be the type to unironically talk to the cat. nicole calls her insane, but finds it endearing (even picking up on that habit. when she realizes this, she lets out a huge, heavy sigh. and asks the cat if it’s her turn to go insane). that also means she scolds the kitty when it does something wrong. however, that ALSO means she eventually finds herself yelling one time. over something not particularly important, like a few scratches on the couch. but it’s been a long day and she’s tired and she yells at the cat for doing that. kitty doesn’t know what jecka’s saying, it only processes the loud human voice. why is the human being loud? jecka asks herself the same question and completely breaks. nicole walks in on her wife sobbing next to the cat and the scratches couch, absurdly confused along with the pet.

i’ll have to type more headcanons later, but i have to conserve my battery now :p thanks for the ask!!

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! Curious as to your headcanons on how Harry would realize he’s gay/come out? I like to imagine him not realizing it until he’s blundered his way into a relationship with a man, but surely he would be to clever for that 😆

Lol, I mean, yeah, Harry is clever, but not when it comes to relationships as he so adequately demonstrates throughout the books. That being said, I think it has more to do with his hectic situation rather than his intelligence. He just has other priorities — like, not dying. I saw someone suggest that by book 7, Harry is somewhat aware of his orientation with his: "not my type, but he'll do" comment to a transfigured Ron asking how he looks.

Like, I think Harry was aware he finds men attractive since 4th year, but he didn't really know what it means because he had other priorities. Like, he'd think he just finds guys attractive but it's normal, he has eyes, after all. But in general, I think the moment Harry is not in immediate life-threatening danger, he would figure it out. Just give him a moment to relax. It might take another failed relationship like Cho, but I really believe that he would get there on his own.

It probably wasn't anything big or grand either, just, kinda like a gradual understanding of: "huh, I guess I don't like girls" that eventually leads to "huh, I always thought guys are hot". (If we ignore the epilogue we can say he had this moment of epiphany while camping in the woods, I mean, there was a lot of silent time for introspection there, or maybe through a talk with Hermione/Ron)

If we go with canon-divergence for fic purposes when he's younger and is still wrapped up in, like, 3 plots to kill him a year, he might just blunder into a relationship with a guy and only realize it's a relationship later. But, Harry is smart enough to know that if he's holding hands and cuddling with someone that isn't a usual friendship for him. Especially if this is after his disaster date with Cho where he dreaded her wanting to hold his hand or kiss him again. Harry would notice if he was interested in that compared to with Cho, that he actually wants to spend time with this guy and likes looking at him and being close to him, but it might take him a while still. It's also very possible [male Harry ship of your choice] would be the one to basically tell Harry what they have is a relationship, but it really depends on the specific canon divergence. In general, it's less likely Harry would start this relationship as he is in a quest to be normal (which is part of why he decided he has a crush on Cho), she's a safe option — pretty, good at Quidditch, and appearing unattainable when he chose her. Point is, I don't see the Hogwarts-aged Harry pursuing a relationship with a guy without certain changes to get him there (the guy of your choice might though).

Alternative to this situation, it could be Ron or Hermione who bring it up to Harry, with Ron being the more likely of the two to bring it up. I think Ron has known since 5th year that Harry is gay, Hermione doesn't seem to really know, but by 7th year she probably figured it out (I mean, even in the muggle world this is the UK in 90s, it's not like being gay was overly accepted). So, they could also bring it up to him.

As for coming out, I feel like he would accidentally joke about it a bunch, like in that book 7 comment and most people would think it's just a joke, but I think Ron and Hermione would clue in early he actually means it. Ron at least would have already known and both I believe would be supportive of Harry. I think a bunch of others would be told as well, I think most Weasley kids won't have a problem with it at all (Ginny is likely to be disappointed, but I don't think she'd be mean about it to Harry). I think Molly and Arthur might struggle a little, due to ignorance rather than malice, but they would definitely be kind and try to be supportive. Arthur would probably mention some Weasley cousin who's gay as a way to connect to Harry because I'm sure there is one. Sirius would support everything Harry does and chooses (and he himself is likely, not straight) so, yeah.

Beyond that, coming out more publicly would heavily depend on the Wizarding World's approach to homosexuality. I personally believe they don't treat it great and it's kind of an unspoken thing — considering we don't see any gay relationships in the books, their focus on legacy and producing children, and the characters that are mentioned to be unmarried seem to live like confirmed bachelors (Dumbledore, Aunt Muriel, Alphard and Cassiopeia Black, etc.). Also, considering Harry's dislike of the Prophet and the attention he receives, I don't see him choosing to ever make it public knowledge since it's none of their business.

I imagine Witch Weekly keeps placing Harry in number 1 their Most Eligible Bachelors list years after he has already moved to live with a "close male friend" of his (choose who to your preference). And like, everyone knows, but no one would really acknowledge it. Whenever Harry is asked about "when he's gonna settle down" by some interviewer or random ministry personnel or some foreign ambassador he needs to be held back from throwing hands when younger. Later in life he probably gets used to it, besides, the older he gets, eventually the questions would stop, I imagine. It's also possible eventually attitudes in the Wizarding World would change, but that's something that takes time and depends on a lot of other factors.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 11: Naptime

Y'all had your fun, now it's back to business. This goes from 0 to 100 real fast so please pay attention to the content warning, also adding a read more just in case.

Word count: 956

Content warning: mentions of blood, injury, child death, reader descresion is advised

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

It's naptime, and you're not asleep.

Oh, how you would be if you could. How you so desperately wish that you could. You stand no chance at reaching the light switch. No chance at saving the day. The only thing you can do is sit crowded in a hidden corner of the play structure with the few kids you could grab. Like a coward. Arms tightly around them to try and shield them as best you can from the danger lurking outside. 

You think, hope, pray, that some of them are actually asleep out there. That they didn't get woken up by the screams of the children who happened to wake up. The others though, god the others, you can't, you won't-these kids need you. Need you to be brave, need you to protect them. You don't think you can.

One of them makes a small whimper, you near silently shush her, pulling her more into your chest so if she sobs, it'll be muffled. She clings to you tightly, and you suppress a wince. The wound across your chest thankfully isn't deep, but it hurt, and you had no way to stop the bleeding currently. 

You had felt your entire world shut down at that moment. Witness everything come plummeting down so suddenly. Instead of not being able to look away from a car crash, you were experiencing the crash. And it hurt.

You blame yourself, even if someone else would argue it's not your fault. You didn't know. Hell, you don't think even Sun knew. Is he even okay? Is he gone too? Not until it happened. Not until you turned off the lights. 

"Alright," You turn, watching as Moon appears, "Everybody's down for the count, they're pretty exhausted from freeze tag so we should have an easy go of it. In the meantime, I found my copy of The Princess Bride, I say we find a good vantage point and get a couple chapters in. What do you say to that?"

No response. He just stares at you. 

This has been happening sometimes lately, you think it may just be a delay in the switch. You know he's been self-conscious about it, so you try to make light of it. 

You make a radio noise with your mouth, "Cht. Earth to Moon-man. This is mission control, requesting cuddles and story-time while on the job. Do you copy?"

Something clicks. 

"Ye-yes, yes, let's... do that," He shakes his head, seeming, groggy. 

You giggle quietly, "Are you sure you don't need a nap, sleepy head?"

It takes another second, you swear you see his optics flash another color before he shakes his head again, chuckling. 

"Not at all," He offers his hand to you, "Shall we?"

You grin to yourself, doing your best to contain your excitement. You've been waiting for ages to get into this book with him. Not to mention spending unrestricted one-on-one time.

You take it, feeling a rush once the two of you start flying through the air. 

From there, things are good. Great even. You and Moon are able to get through the prologue and first chapter or so. The problem arises when suddenly, the power goes out to the rest of the Plex. 

You look up, instinctively putting a hand on the arm Moon has around you, "What's going on?"

"I'm, not sure."

The sudden lack of noise rouses one of the kids, he sits up, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. 

"Ah, shoot, Morgan's up. Here, help me down and I'll-" You're suddenly cold as Moon abruptly stands up, jumping down from the play structure without a word.

Confused, you follow after him, taking a nearby slide.

You walk over to where he towers over the boy-not his usual routine for these things that should have been your first clue-and get there in time to overhear;

"It's past your bedtime."

That's, not his usual voice. Well, it is. But there's something off about it.

Morgan notices too, he looks a bit frightened by the gravely sound. 

Moon's faceplate tilts to the side, "Naughty children must be punished."

It's then that you think to look down to his hand where, when did he get claws. Why would Moon ever need claws, that kind of upgrade is only for Monty or Freddy-

He's raising his hand, Morgan is cowering. You need to move.

Without thinking, you dash in between the two, arms out wide to shield the child behind you. 

Moon hesitates, stuttering, glitching, but his hands slices across your chest all the same. 

Morgan screams, you hiss at the pain. Moon suddenly disappears into the dark above the Daycare. And kids start to wake up.

Everything from there is a blur. You remembering panicking, trying to calm down crying kids. your chest being on fire, and then everything suddenly getting ten times worse.

You still don't know what's going on out there. Out in the rest of the Plex. You don't know why no one has come to check on you all, come to save you, nobody's going to save you, just done something. But you have no way of reaching out. No way of getting out of here either. For now, you have to survive. You have to. You have to try.

You become aware of someone looking at you before you actually see the light crawl across the floor before landing on you and the backs of the kids.

Your grip becomes firmer, face more determined, as the sound of bells gets closer and closer. You take a deep breath, and steel your gaze to look at him. 

Red eyes face yours on the other side of the plastic cage.

It's naptime. And you're not asleep.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Wow man, I was uh, yeah I don't know where this came from. Oof. Angst AND horror. My b guys. ANYWHO Three promptobers in a day, my writing brain is BACK baby (it has been gone for several weeks bc of sinusitis, but I'll talk about that more in the CS ch. 35 update) The other promptobers I've done are here if you haven't seen them already. The previous ones haven’t been as intense horror-wise as this so if you're looking for something a little chiller I would suggest giving them a try. Thanks for reading!

[pandorxxx]

Search & Rescue (Chapter 1)

Lo’ak x omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: Cursing, hints at depression, heavy drinking, mentions of sex, a lot of sexual tension, fluff.

Synopsis: Lo’ak has a bit of a reputation that he’s been trying so hard to break out of. He just needs the right girl to come and rescue him. Looks like he found her tonight.

For the best experience, listen to Ozone by Chase Atlantic

“Damn, this party is live tonight.” Lo’ak chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. He stood next to Neteyam and his mate, as they cuddled up next to each other by the drink table.

“Mhm.” Neteyam hummed, completely focused on his mate before bending down to give her a kiss, and she obliged ofcourse. Lo’ak snapped his head at them in complete disgust.

“Booo! Get a fucking room!” Lo’ak leaned over, shouting into Neteyams ear. Neteyam detached his lips from his mate, giving lo’ak a death stare.

“Go find some business. Better yet, go find a NICE girl. Moms sick of the whores you bring home.” Neteyam spat, turning his mate in his arms, bringing her back into his embrace.

“I’m not thinking about a mate right now, bro. I’m just…scoping the land.” He smirked, watching a group of girls walk past him.

“Hi, ladies.” He spoke in his melodic tone, eyeing them up and down with his predatory gaze. “Hey, lo’ak.” They all giggled, speaking in unison. He watched them walk away, burning wholes in their backsides, making sure he didn’t miss anything.

“And that’s exactly what you DONT want to bring home. Haven’t you fucked ALL of those girls?” Neteyam asked, swaying his mate back and forth.

“So? What’s your point?” Lo’ak asked, taking another sip of his drink, looking out into the crowd. “My point is, that’s toxic. Find ONE girl!” Neteyam chuckled, picking his drink up from behind him to take a sip.

“I think I’ve given myself too much of a reputation. She wouldn’t give me a chance even if I tried.” Lo’ak spoke but immediately regretted it. No one knew that he actually did have his eyes set on someone in particular.

“SHE? Oh my eywa! Who? Give me all the details!” Neteyam’s mate spoke excitedly, so happy that lo’ak had a clue of who he wanted to spend his life with.

“gIVe mE AlL tHe deTAilS!…absolutely not. You talk too much!” Lo’ak joked, chuckling as he unintentionally blew his cover, staring directly at you, dancing with your friends in the crowd. All of those girls, and he only saw you. It’s like everyone else disappeared. Everything about you made his heart pound. Especially tonight. You must’ve just taken your braids out right before arriving. Your hair was curly, flowing down your back just how he liked. You wore cloths woven with beautiful crystals, a little more revealing than usual.

You had a thigh band on that matched your outfit. And all lo’ak could think about was pulling it down your leg with his teeth. Ripping your cloths off to reveal your beautiful body. Nuzzling his head into your gorgeous hair, to rid the scent of any other girl left on him. He wanted to be saved, rescued from his continuous cycle. He just couldn’t seem to find the right girl who would take him seriously as a mate. But he knew that was his own fault, he built this reputation for himself, and it was hard to break it down.

“You’re so obvious IDIOT!” Neteyam’s mate laughed, snapping him out of his trance.

“Huh? W-What are you going on about now?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, not being able to look away from you, not even for a second.

“Ohhh y/n, huh? Now that’s the definition of a nice girl. And she’s one of the best warriors in training. She’d be good for you.” Neteyam spoke, smiling before planting a kiss on his mates head.

“Yeah, but will I be good for her is the question. I-I don’t wanna fuck it up with her. I CAN’T fuck it up with her. Shes different bro. The “bring home to mom” type you were talking about earlier. She’s so fucking sweet too. Strong, intelligent, and drop dead gorgeous. Why the fuck would she choose me? I’m a trouble maker, an outcast. And shes…..perfect.” Lo’ak confessed before downing the rest of his drink, grabbing the bottle from behind him to fill his cup to the top.

“Lo’ak having…FEELINGS??? Oh my eywa!” Neteyam spoke sarcastically. “How about you just go talk to h-“ Neteyam started before stopping abruptly.

“I’m not going over there! Not until I’m full of alcohol to calm me the fuck d-“ lo’ak started, turning around to be met with you, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

“Hey, lo’ak.” You spoke with your sweet voice, smiling up at him. He was completely stunned, First time he was speechless when it came to girls. He looked down at you, completely tranced by your beauty.

“Hi…” he said emotionless, too focused on getting lost in your eyes. He wanted to drown in them, wanted you to trap him so he wouldn’t have to keep living his life recklessly.

Neteyam and his mate looked at eachother with a lighthearted smile before turning back to the beautiful scene infront of them. Lo’ak….falling in love.

“Well, since you’re in the way. Think you can pour me a drink?” You asked jokingly, nudging your head to the table behind him.

“Umm..i-I uhh-“ he stuttered, tail wagging aggressively behind him, giving away his true feelings without a single word. You giggled, hiding your face with your hand. He shook his head, snapping out of your hypnotic gaze.

“I-im sorry. Umm, sure! Sure, I can pour you a drink.” He spoke in a low tone, grabbing your hand bringing you closer to the table before he turned around to look at the drinks.

“Which one did you want, pretty girl?” He spoke with a small smile, glancing at you before looking back down at the options. Your stomach filled with butterflies at the nickname. Sure, he might’ve called other girls pretty, and you knew that. But it didn’t take away from the fact that he was talking to YOU in this moment.

“Uhhh, whatever is in your cup.” You said, taking the cup out of his hand. “Can I actually just…have yours?” You asked innocently, looking into his eyes. He watched you intently, eyebrow cocked with a light grin.

“You don’t even know what it is, y/n. Taste it first, see if you like it.” He chuckled, untwisting the bottle of the same drink, pouring himself another cup.

“I trust you…” you spoke with a smile, making lo’ak whip his head back to you. He watched you down the drink, small drips flowing out the corner of your mouth, trickling all the way down your chest. You slammed the cup down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“See? I trust you.” You giggled. And just like that, you had him in a trance for the 3rd time tonight. He eyed you up and down, bringing his cup to his mouth, taking a sip before setting it back on the table. He faced you, stepping dangerously close, but you didn’t move. Just stared up into his eyes.

“You’ve got alittle something right here. May I?” He asked, holding his thumb out to wipe your neck. You nodded, not even a word needed to be said. The tension between you two was undeniable. He wrapped his hand around your neck very gently, using his thumb to wipe the access alcohol off of you. You two stared into each others eyes the entire time. Hearts beating in sync as he stepped an inch closer. He detached his hand from your neck, licking his thumb clean.

“Much better.” He spoke in a melodic tone, rattling your eardrums just right. And there you were, falling for his charm just like every other girl. You snapped out of it, crossing your arms, looking up at him with an all-knowing glare.

“No.” Was all you said, shaking your head. “No?” He asked, tilting his head, eyes narrowed in confusion. “I won’t be another one of your one night stands. I refuse!” You raised your voice, pushing him in the chest with a single finger.

“It’s not like that, I swear.” He spoke softly, blinking back tears. His heart sank that you believed he just wanted one thing from you. He couldn’t blame you, but he wished you would just hear him out.

“Yes it is! What? Trying to seduce me or something? Like you do with all the others?” You asked angrily. “I’m not that kind of girl.” You spat, mean mugging him.

“I-I know you’re not that kind of girl, y/n. I wasn’t trying to seduce you or anything like that, I swear. I- I just…like you a lot. I can’t help myself around you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rambled, trying his best to convince you that he didn’t mean anything by his actions.

“Suuuure! And I’m supposed to believe you, right? I know you, lo’ak. I know all of your little tricks. And IM NOT FALLING FOR THEM! Got it?” You snapped, gesturing angrily with your hands. He sighed, staring down at you in defeat.

“I get it, y/n.” He spoke in a defeated tone. Ears flat, as he shifted his head down to the ground, blinking back tears again before standing to face you. Your expression softened slightly, watching a single tear fall to the ground before he quickly wiped his eyes.

“Lo’ak?” You asked in shock, reaching up to grab the side of his cheek. He grabbed your wrist gently, placing your hand back to your side.

“No, you’re right. It’s my fault for giving you that impression. I don’t blame you.” He smiled weakly, his puffy eyes telling a different story.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” You said in a apologetic tone, caressing his strong arm. He shook his head, sniffling as if he was sick.

“It’s fine. I’ve gotta go.” He fake smiled, grabbing the entire bottle of alcohol before walking off. “Wait! LO’AK I-“ you shouted, watching him walk off through the crowd of people. You sighed, shutting your eyes tightly before opening them to see Neteyam and his mate in shock.

“What’s wrong with him? Didn’t know he had feelings to hurt.” You spoke in a defeated tone, watching lo’ak drown himself in alcohol from across the forest.

“He has feelings. He just doesn’t know how to express them verbally. Everything is very…physical with him. I don’t think he meant to make you uncomfortable.” Neteyam explained, watching his brother down an entire bottle of alcohol.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen him like this before, with any other girl. I think he really likes you, y/n. He just needs alittle guidance, that’s all.” Neteyam’s mate spoke, leaning her head back on his chest, shooting you a lighthearted smile.

Did he really like you? Even his brother and his mate said so. They wouldn’t steer you wrong. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like lo’ak too. It’s just the other girls that you had a problem with. There were so many too. You couldn’t compete with that, and you didn’t want to.

The party started to die down, and people started to leave. As the crowd left piece by piece, you saw lo’ak sitting in the corner, still gripping the empty alcohol bottle. His head was hung to the ground as he massaged his forehead, as if he had a headache, or deep in thought. You hesitated, but walked over to him.

“Hey.” You broke the silence, standing infront of him. His head shot up at you immediately, giving you his undivided attention.

“Hey.” He shot you a drunk smile, before throwing his head back down to the ground. You bit your lip in contemplation, trying to think of something else to say. Nothing came to mind. Instead, you held your hand out for him, waiting for him to grab it. He looked at your hand before his eye contact trailed up to your kind expression. “w-what’s this for?” He slurred, pointing to your hand in confusion. You sighed, rolling your eyes with a smile.

“You’re drunk, let me walk you home.” You spoke sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to grab your hand. He sighed, feeling so helpless in this moment. He was supposed to be walking YOU home, not the other way around. He didn’t deserve you. He grabbed your hand, standing up lazily.

“Thank you, y/n. Really.” He spoke in an exhausted tone. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder to maintain some kind of balance. Even though his vision was blurry.

“No problem, lo’ak. Let’s get out of here.” You chuckled, wrapping your arm around his waist, making your way to his hut.

The walk to his hut was mostly silent, minus the times you two stopped so he could throw up. And you were right there with him, holding his hair up, and patting his back. He’d apologize that you had to see him like that, and you’d just wipe his mouth with the napkins you brung specifically for this reason.

When you finally got to his hut, you weren’t surprised at the mess. You walked over the bottle cans, and empty alcohol bottles to lay him down on his cot.

“You ok?” You asked, pushing a strand of hair off of his sweaty forehead. Smiling down at him as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “Mhm.” He hummed, smiling at you drunkenly as his eyes opened and closed lazily.

“Get some sleep, ok?” You spoke softly, caressing his cheek. You turned around, taking in the filthy room around you.

“You know, you should really clean up, lo’ak.” You said sternly, picking up all of the empty cans on his floor, throwing them in the trash bag by the door. Then you proceeded to fold his loincloths, placing them in the drawer nice and neatly. He rolled over just to watch you clean his hut. No girl had ever done that for him, not that they should. But it was nice of you to do. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it by himself, it overwhelmed him. And he rarely spent time in his hut because the mess made him feel worse about himself. So to watch you clean it for him, helped him in ways he couldn’t even explain if he had the time to.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He shook his head in disappointment at himself, feeling more defeated than he ever has.

“Don’t worry about it, I wanted to.” You smiled, closing his drawer before dusting your hands off. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll be back in the morning to check on you.” You said, nodding your head as you made your way to his hut door. Every step felt like a knife to the heart, because he wanted nothing more than for you to stay with him.

“Y/n?” He muttered, but loud enough for you to hear. You stopped in your tracks, hoping that this would be the moment he asked you to stay, just so you could monitor him for the night. You turned back to him. “Yes?” You asked, voice full of hope. He hesitated, but it was now or never, and he chose now.

“Stay with me? I promise I won’t try anything. I’ll even sleep on the floor, and let you have the cot just….please. I don’t want to be alone tonight.” He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. You closed the hut door, walking over to his cot, bending down to become eye level with him.

“You’ve got something comfortable for me to wear?” You asked sarcastically with a lighthearted smile. He chuckled, sitting up on the edge of the bed before standing to his full height. He walked over to the drawer and picked out an oversized T-shirt, bringing it over to you.

“Let me guess. From the lab, huh?” You asked with a small chuckle, grabbing the shirt out of his hands. He smiled down at you.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. “How many girls have worn THIS one?” You asked, stepping dangerously close to him. So close that your breasts laid against his stomach. Eyebrow cocked as you untied your loincloth, letting it drop to the ground. Yet and still, he kept his eyes glued on yours, not even attempting to look at your naked body.

“None. I’ve been saving it.” He said In his same melodic tone. You tilted your head as if he was bullshitting you. You untied your top, but it stayed in place between you and lo’aks embrace.

“Oh yeah? Saving it for what?” You asked in a sarcastic tone, backing up slightly to let your top fall. He licked his lips, still keeping his eyes locked on yours, like the gentlemen he was learning to be. “For my future mate. So go ahead and put it on already.” He whispered, holding your chin with his finger.

His future mate? You didn’t even know lo’ak wished to be mated the way he tossed girls around. Who knew it would be you that could possibly change him?

“I’m not fucking you, lo’ak.” You tilted your head, with a small smirk. His eyes narrowed, letting your chin go.

“I wasn’t planning on fucking you either.” He titled his head, a smirk creeping across his face. You were almost offended. What did he mean by that?

“Sooo, you don’t want to fuck me?” You asked confused. He chuckled, stepping alittle closer, If that was even possible.

“Never said that.” He responded. “Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, with a devilish smirk. You almost gave in right there, but you had a feeling this was one of his games. And if you were being honest, you understood why so many girls fell for it.

“Yes- I MEAN…NO!….NO! NO! NO!” You shouted, pushing him away slightly. Pulling his shirt onto your body. He laughed, watching you scramble in-front of him.

“Suuure.” He said sarcastically, brushing past you to get back on his cot, getting comfortable. He patted the cot, signaling for you to come lay next to him. You walked over, climbing into the cot, facing him.

“To be completely clear, you didn’t want to fuck, right?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you. “LO’AK!” You shouted, your voice muffled by his broad chest. He laughed, caressing your back.

“I joke, I joke!” He chuckled, shutting his eyes. “Lo’ak?” You asked, wiggling in his embrace to get more comfortable. “Yes, y/n?” He smiled, holding you a little closer to him.

“What are we doing?” You asked hesitantly. He kissed the top of your head, drawing circles in your lower back.

“We’re sleeping. Get some rest. Let’s talk in the morning.” He responded, sighing before shutting his eyes once more. You smiled into his chest, planting a small kiss.

“Goodnight, lo’ak.” You whispered before drifting off to sleep. “Goodnight, y/n.” He spoke in a deep voice, before drifting off to sleep as well, faster than he’s ever had, finally finding that comfort he’d been searching for all along.

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia

[leggerefiore]

That pokévillan marriage hc was soooo sweet! 😩😩❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Then I laughed imagining them scrambling to find their s/o's ring size, especially if they don't wear jewelry at all. Can I request hcs of how the submas, larry and whoever you want finds out their s/o's ring size? I can only imagine the chaos and hilarity that insues as they try to be discreet 🤣

djajfjd that's me tbh. I can barely stand necklace and bracelets so they'd die trying to find my ring size

characters: Ingo, Emmet, Larry, Nanu

▲Ingo▼

● Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that he needed to find your ring size out for the piece of jewellery he planned to spend well into four digits on, until after Elesa questioned him. Her deadpan expression made he realised his grievous error. The new situation left him in shambles. How did he get your ring size without you realising it? He wanted his plans to be a surprise. Many thoughts crossed his mind on just how to get there.

● Could he try to guess? He was not too overly familiar with it. Directly asking you was not something that he would dare do. He thinks maybe of getting you a ring as a random gift to see how close it would be to your size, but ends up backing out as he worries about the confusion it might bring. Then, he remembers something from his younger days. His more rural childhood provided an ease strategy for this information.

● Suddenly, he takes you out to a route with wild flowers and ties a flower ring around your finger. He slides it on and off to confirm that it was a proper comparison, and then takes it away under the illusion of wanting to preserve it. (He does, actually, but only after ascertaining the information he needs.) Now, he can only hope you do not get suspicious of anything.

▽Emmet△

○ It crossed his mind much too late. He was already nearly in the process of buying the ring when he was asked about the ring size. Emmet felt verrry dumb forgetting such an important detail and had to awkwardly explain that he did not know before backing out of the store. He stood in a daze for a few moments. This was going to be a surprise, but he did not have a clue what your ring size was. He texted Elesa about his situation. Her reply made him feel even dumber. An obvious solution to his problem.

○ Well, that was if you had any rings for him to compare. If you did not, he would simply perish. Possible other solutions ran through his head. Would it be so out of character for him to measure your finger? Probably, but he was considered odd by many people, so it could work. Though, you were more aware of the extent of his personality than other people. He feels deeply lost about how to about it.

○ If you have rings, he goes for Elesa's suggestion to get your ring size and leaves you none the wiser. But, if you do not have any, he must unfortunately bear the circumstance of measuring the circumference of your finger. You will probably catch on to why he is doing it, but please don't make it obvious you have. He will get sad. Verrry sad. Let him have this.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 It crosses his mind pretty early. He has been around his boss enough to know a bit about accessory sizing. Though, he will admit he is not sure how to get it. He ponders it quietly while stopped outside the office. His expression scares passers-by as he stands eerily still. Eventually, he does is around Rika, who lends an ear to his issue and sighs. She did not expect him to have a romantic side. Of course, if she does suggest just asking for your measurement, she feels certain he will.

🍙 Her advice to check for other rings remains in his head as he returns home. Obviously, just asking you had crossed his mind. There was no reason to make a show out of proposing, especially at his age, but he felt you would appreciate the surprise. Hassel had become involved at some point and proposed something with the use of flowers that he had heard about from a friend. Larry felt even more uncertain about how to approach it now.

🍙 At some point, he grabs your hand, catching you off-guard. His silent observation of your hand would be distressing if not for his odder ways of showing affection popping up. He considered a rough estimate in his head after he let your hand go. Hopefully, this would be accurate.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 It felt a bit dumb for him to finally just be settling down, but you obviously had been subtly mentioning it to him. Deciding that he had nothing left to lose, he chose to visit Olivia. Of course, with her better knowledge about accessories, she stared at him for a moment when he did not know your ring size. It slipped his mind, despite it being completely obvious. Olivia began giving him some suggestions on how to get your ring size subtly. He nodded and stepped out of the store with a sigh.

🌑 He thought on it for a moment. Finding a ring that you had around his home might be hard, trying something cutesy like tying a flower around your finger was out of character for him. He certainly could not get away with just taking a measurement of your ring finger. Nanu shook his head as he watched a stray Meowth run through the streets of Konikoni. If he just asked you, he knew you would likely catch on, of course… But his mind went back to Olivia. Well, nothing wrong with twisting the truth a little to keep some mystique going on.

🌑 So, he called you. You answered. “Olivia wants your ring size,” Nanu half-lied, “She's making a piece of jewellery for you. I don't know it.” You gasped excitedly and quickly provided the required information. He thanked you and hung up. Walking back in the store, he told Olivia your ring size. You probably might be a little suspicious, but as long as you were not completely aware, the Kahuna supposed.

[louwhose]

I love Frieren and Himmel's relationship so much and I mean of course I do there's so much to love. An elf that thinks a human's life passes away in the blink of an eye and human that loves her? I'm already hooked. But add into that he doesn't say anything because he knows nothing will come of it with how she views things when he knows her and is content to just admire her for all she is as she is? The fact that she cares for him in spite of thinking his life is so short and getting to know him in the time they were together but regretting not coming to know him better after he died? I mean she's literally following their journey and remembering him along the way and the end destination is the chance to see him again, but I feel like she'll realize she truly know and loved him even if they never reach heaven.

And there's just. So many tiny details. I will try to recount a lot, but I'm sure I won't get all of them.

Frieren remembers so much about him. Regardless of where they go, it's usually a memory about him more than anyone else. She remembers his favorite flower, and takes the time to find it (though she doesn't consider time a least bit rare commodity). And she remembers it, which means that even though at one point she didn't try to learn about her companions, she afterwards made the point to remember their favorite things. And when she talked with Old Man Voll, who was regretting losing his memories of his late wife and asked if she could still remember her companions clearly, she refused to consider that she ever won't. She considers their memories that precious.

And then there's Himmel. Oh my goodness. Beyond just his initial attraction, the way he's always fascinated by her magic and her making enough of an impression on him at a young age that he sought her out years later for such an important quest is delightful. And did I mention that he just loves her magic? BECAUSE HE DOES!! And it helps her to love collecting her weird spells that much more, so good and supportive, Himmel.

And fear not I shan't neglect to mention the mirrored lotus ring because I am incapable of being normal about that scene. He had Frieren choose a ring (my respectful man there where can I get me a Himmel) and when he saw which one she chose he knew what it meant and chose to present it to her in a way that was sure to be memorable to her. Even though she didn't yet know the meaning of it, once she does, she can look back on the memory of him pledging his love eternally to her, an immortal, in spite of his mortality. He may be content to never say it, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't like her to know.

And now I am going to talk about a manga arc that ends on like. Chapter 118/119? So spoilers if you choose to proceed any further.

Frieren has spent so long now working towards seeing Himmel again and then she. GETS TO SEE HIM AGAIN!!! I am certain that if I scoured this arc I could find soooo many details for them (and I am tempted but instead I will focus on a few details that come to mind and analyzing one very specific thing about it.

Just. Himmel saying he likes who she's become, not having any clue that he was a major influence for her becoming that way. I just love that he appreciates her at every stage she's at it's just so uwu. and then when FRIEREN said he's a ray of light??? omg omg omg omg oomg I die they both just see the best in each other and I live for it.

And Then There's The Wedding. If you read this far on this and didn't expect me to gush over this part here is where I disillusion you. Himmel's feelings for Frieren have been pretty obvious up to this point, but seeing that he would in his ideal world want to marry her and spend his life with her is GRAHHHHHHHHHH there's no words to describe it. and like. Frieren is there too? how am I supposed to interpret that but as her own paradise? even if it's as a looser interpretation of she wanted to spend all of Himmel's life with him??? INSANEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee

and then the fact that Himmel had his dreams presented before him, but he felt something was off, and didn't take advantage of it. Not even for a kiss. THIS RESPECTFUL MAN what is there not to like if anyone is good enough for Frieren it is without a doubt him. and the way they work together to get out of it???? oh man I love it

idk I just love their dynamic I think it's great and full of unfulfilled potential and I hope they get something some kind of closure if Frieren really does make it to see him again I just really love thinking about them thank you for coming to my presentation

[leynaeithnea]

I didnt get an ask for this BUT WE'RE BACK

my Wisdom saga reaction/analysis!!!!!

26. Legendary

TELEMACHUS MY BOYYYY

THE MELODY AT THE BEGINNING OF LEGENDARY IS SO COOL

the instruments aaah, lowkey obssessed

"its jus tme myself and i" perimedes would like u

"living in this world you left behind".........this song makes oyu think so much about what life has been in Ithica in those years since Odysseus had to leave, he was loved, he is *King*, AH

"dreaming of all these monster, that ill never to get to fight" better this way, u dont wanna end up like your daddy

"but boy i wish i could so i could bring the world some light" BABY BOY

"Cause I'm stuck with your stories, but no clue who you are And no idea if you're dead or just too far" his mother wouldve told him so many stories :aniTears:

"Somebody tell me, come and give me a sign if I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" PLS HE jusT WANTS TO FIND HIS DAD GIVE THIS MAN HIS FATHER

"If so, then give me sirens and a cyclops Give me giants and a hydra" hes just naming every monster he can think of of the myths he grew up with

"I know life and fate are scary but I wanna be legendary" U GO BOY; I LOVE YOU, also such a mood

"I'll fight the harpies and chimeras, the Minotaur, even Cerberus I know life and fate are scary but I wanna be l-l-l-l-legendary"....yea same like the two parts before, any monster he can think of, he gotta be one of us kids who read a lot

THEN The droppp in his voice, HE SOUNDS SO SCARED

"There are strangers in our halls" That must be TERRIFYING, just imagine that, dozens of men in your home just prying on your mother and youre too young to do anything rly

"Trying to win the heart of my mom, but she is standing tall" THAT VOCAL PERFORMANCE, W FOR PENELOPE; GIRLBOSS

"108 old faces of men who call me small" EW; 108 IS SO MANY BRO; SO MANY????? Also "old faces" ISJGSEIGJ "who call me small" boy, i feel so bad for you

"They keep taking space and it's not much longer we can stall" !!!! HES WORKING WITH HIS MOTHER TRYING TO HOLD THEM OFF; AH AAAAH, also fuck them, leave their home alone, god he must feel so unsafe in his own home :screams:

"'Cause they're getting impatient, dangerous too" oh no :( so scared lil boy

"And I would fight them if I was half as strong as you" HE LOOKS UP TO HIM SO MUCH AH

"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength Can I do whatever it takes to keep my mom safe?" HES ALSO A MOMMY BOY; AND HONESTLY GOOD FOR HIM; STAND BY HER SIDE; U GO BOY, 🥹

Chrous SLAPs

"Where is he? Where is the man who'll have you to wife? " bitch stay away (also cut song reference!)

"Where is he? Where is the man with whom you'll spend your life?" HE IS ON His WAY HOme SO STAY THE FUCK AWAYYYYYYYY ARGG ILL FIGHT U

"Cause it's been 20 years, 20 years" 20 FUCKING YEARS??? THATS AS OLD AS I AM (and telemachus for that measure, same age, yay!) BUT BRO IMAGINE WAITING FOR YOUR HUSBAND TO COME HOME FOR 20 YEARS; PENELOPE X ODY OTP; PENELOPE FIGHTING OFF 108 SUITORS FOR 20 YEARS AND ODY FIGHTING OF *GODS* Trying TO TRAP AND USE AND KEEP HIM, THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER

"And we still have no king" >:) >:) imagine an island without leader for 20 years oh boy h boy, the power vacuum, 108 people who want to take his place

"Give me a chance, a single opportunity and I'll overcome these obstacles and scrutiny and-" HE WANTS TO SO BADLY he juST DOESNT KNOW HOW AND WHEre TO START BC AH, also the music sounds like he just tries to sneak around his palace, to not get caught by the suitors, dodging and on guard, i can just imagine him ducking his head and looking at every corner for smth danger-

"Boy".......that slapped hard, FUCK YOU ANTINOUS (hi perimedes :) )

"When's your tramp of a mother gonna choose a new husband?" FUCK YOU STAY AWAY (the dELIVERY)

"OoooOOoh" we have a new choir! the crew is ded but we have the suitors now hah, ill take it, love me some choir responses

"Why don't you open her room so we can have fun with her?" THE AUDACITY? WHORE FUCKING BASTARD STAY THE FUCK AWAY

"Dont you dare, call my mother a tramp" U GO BOY; TELL HIM (be careful, dont get hurt) THE VOCAL DELIVERY OF THAT LINE IS SO gOOD

"OoooOOoh" chiorr

" I just did, Whatchu gonna do about it, champ?" FUCK OFF ANTINOUS, DONT BE SO SMUG FUCK U

"Somebody tell me, Come and give me a sign, If I fight this monster, Is it you I'll find?" u desrve your dad so much, he'll come home, promise...promise....hold on, be stronk, u got this boy, also "this monster" its none from your stories, no this is real, its worse its right infront of you AH

Sorry for the swearing :") AH I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH, ONE OF MY FAVS FOR SURE (...we'll come back after recency bias but i dont think itll change)

EDIT: DANGER MOTIF WHEN ANTINOUNS JOINS IN!!!!! (are there more? im new to this PLS TELL ME)

@lorethebookworm

[littledollll]

Can I please request a Larissa X new teacher reader.

R has a much younger brother (r is in their early 20s while the brother is 4ish) who they take care of because their parents aren't great so r took full custody over him. R always leaves him with the librarian looks after him (everyone assumes she's his aunt since he calls her aunty) while r is working but one day he isn't having any of it as he misses r so goes to find her and ends up interrupting an important staff meeting and calling r mum (cause of the age gap and parental role r takes he views them as his mum rather than a sibling) r ends up getting really embarrassed and apologies profusely for him while the other teachers and Larissa are incredibly confused as they had no clue he was even related to r.

That evening Larissa requests r to come see her telling them that their "son" is welcome to come along so he isn't left alone in their room. R thinks they are going to be reprimanded by Larissa for messing up the meeting but instead Larissa is very soft and simply wants to know why r didn't inform Larissa of their "son" because Larissa would have gladly made arrangements for him to which r explains the whole story to her while Larissa and r both are playing with the little bro and at the end r makes a joke that they need to find a partner as good with kids as to Larissa to help out their their little trouble maker to which said troublemaker blurts put how r has a mash crush on Larissa. R dies for embarrassment but before they can apologise Larissa smiles and asks them out for coffee saying she's always wanted kids but thought her nevermore students would be as close as she'd ever get.

Thank you!!!

Lovely interruption

Larissa Weems x Reader

A/n: THIS IS SO CUTE??? Thank you so much for your request

Warnings: none, just fluff fluff and more fluff.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

It was routine by now, every day you dropped off your brother in the library with a lunchbox and a bag with a few essentials and some games, you’d thank your best friend (who was honestly family by now) profusely for keeping watch of him.

It was a staff only day. Which means meetings, markings, file organizing and all the other boring stuff, and he simply wasn’t having it. Usually, though his auntie had stuff to get done she still had time to spend time with and entertain him, not today.

He stumbled his way out of the library trying to remember your words. “I’ll be in the staff room if anything happens, don’t be afraid to interrupt I’ll handle it after.” Staff room. And that’s how he found himself wandering the halls looking at the signs above each door until he found it.

“Regarding the problem with the Jericho boys-“ Larissa was cut off by the door opening and your brother peaking in.

“Ma?” looking around for you and shyly walked your way once he found you, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Sweet boy what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with your aunty in the library.” you spoke in a hushed tone, not needing to cause any more disruption in the meeting and he pouted shaking his head. “it’s dark in there n aunties busy.”

You looked up at Larissa apologetically and thoroughly embarrassed while she and the other staff just looked confused. “I am so sorry- I hate to ask but, could he stay here for the rest of the meeting? He won’t say a word, right bub?” He happily nodded already settling himself on your lap.

“That won’t be a problem, welcome to the staff little one.” Larissa said, with a smile that immediately made you sigh in relief and made your brother giggle and sit straight like he was really ready to pay attention.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The meeting went without a hitch, he kept to himself for the most part and stayed quiet unless Larissa or another member of the staff included him in the conversation. After the meeting ended you were held back for a second while your brother got smothered with cooes and attention by most of the staff which he was more than happy to receive.

Larissa approached you while you were watching over him and making conversation with another teacher. “Dear, I was hoping you could see me after dinner time in my office, there’s just some things I’d like to go over with you if that’s alright, your son is more than welcome as well, I wouldn’t want him locked up in your room the whole time.”

“He’s-“ you wanted to explain he wasn’t really your son but you cut yourself off. You’d clear that up later on the meeting, no point in holding her back now, plus you had to get both you and him something to eat. “Of course principal weems, I’ll see you then.”

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

After dinner you anxiously made your way to the principals office, with your brothers bag in hand like always, you knocked on the door and made your way in once you heard her welcome you in, his hand was holding yours as he looked around the office completely fascinated with all the decore and fancy aesthetics.

He immediately ran off to look at ravens decorating her desk. “Wow hey! slow down, I told you to behave.” He only gave you a once over and continued on looking around. “I’m sorry this is probably the coolest place know to man right now for him.” You apologized as you stopped his hand from touching anything.

Larissa gave you a reassuring smile and shook her head. “The little trouble maker can touch all he wants, anything is replaceable.” She nodded his way and he excitedly jumped around to look at more stuff.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and sat down. “Now why would you encourage him?” “Listen- I’m very aware he shouldn’t have interrupted and I’m really sorry, he despises feeling alone though the little attention hog, so I couldn’t with a sound mind, force him to go back-“

Larissa only chucked and moved from her desk to sit next to you on the arm chair. “I’m not here to scold you, dear, I wasn’t aware you had a son? Had I known there are changes I could’ve made to make being here more comfortable for you both, I was under the impression he was family of our librarian?”

“Oh! I get by so I don’t know if that’s necessary, always appreciate the thought of course. Honestly she kind of is at this point, we’ve been friends for a long time and she offered to look after him once I started here.” You gathered yourself for a second and realized you left out arguably the most important part.

As you were about to speak he ran between the two of you, holding Larissa’s decorative owl in hand. “Look!! How cool is this, did u buy it? Where? How!” He couldn’t decide if he wanted to show you the damn thing or ask Larissa every question possible.

“Okay first of all don’t drop that. Second of all yes it’s very cool, bub. Maybe put it back and Ms. Weems can answer your questions without the stress of it possibly breaking?” He hesitantly listened, putting the owl back and running back to Larissa. “So!?”

Your conversation got cut off for a moment as Larissa found herself stuck in an interview with your brother, he was finally satisfied after she answered his every question and he ran back, probably to find something else he can interview her about. “Your kid seems to take after your curiosity.” Right, that.

“Well- he’s not really my son, we come from a tough family so I’ve been his legal caretakers since I turned 18. But he’s just my little brother, he started calling me mama when he was younger and it kinda stuck, it’s never been an issue before so I haven’t thought to correct him though maybe I should.“

“Nonsense! you are his maternal figure, if it causes confusion to him then maybe then it’s an issue, but don’t worry about anyone else, he seems comfortable and happy with it and if you don’t mind, I see no reason why you should correct it.” You hummed in agreement, followed by a quiet “thank you.”

It got quiet after that, a comfortable silence between the two of you that was interrupted by him coming back with more questions, making Larissa chuckle and of course give in to his antics. “I really need to get myself a partner that can handle this kid.” You said giggling and Larissa seemed to agree. Your brother however had matchmaking plans tonight apparently.

“I thought you liked Principal Weems! Is okay I like her too.” He nodded and gave you a pat, clearly very proud of himself while you were too busy dying of embarrassment to notice the smile on Larissa’s face. “I am- so sorry- you’d think he could keep that quiet.” You said, which made him gasp. “That was a secret!?”

Larissa chuckled driving your attention back to her. “Oh so it’s true? Because I can clearly handle this cutie as you can see. How about nice outing to the weathervane, I could get us all hot chocolate.” You turned to her suddenly feeling very chocked up. “I’m- are you serious?”

“Very. You’ve caught my eye since the day you joined us here, darling. Besides, I’ve always wanted a troublemaker to busy up my life, thought the students were going to be the best I get.”

Looks like his matchmaking had worked, and you now had a date with the woman of your dreams. One who would accept and take care of him as well”, what more could you ask for?

“Very. You’ve caught my eye since the day you joined us here, darling. Besides, I’ve always wanted a troublemaker to busy up my life, thought the students were going to be the best I get.”

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 13. Tara Carpenter

A/N: The way y’all voted on that poll was a true landslide lol I guess I didn’t realize how huge the tara stans are. So here goes something for my final fall prompt, hope this doesn’t flop like scream 7 will 🤭🤫🫠 but this is a short and simple ending so I do hope you enjoy this.

PROMPTS are from HERE & HERE + I’m using: going to a pumpkin patch + “you look cold, do you want a hug?” + “you think someone died here?”

WARNINGS: slight language I think? Dark humor. Age-difference: with Tara being twenty-one and oc/reader being twenty-five/six + Chad and Tara never became a thing in this timeline!

<- read my previous october anthology prompt here.

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Being at a pumpkin patch in mid-November when the skies were painted like pale ice in a frozen lake and the trees lost their copper leaves for good was questionable for Tara. The air no longer had its crispness to it but it started to feel more along the lines of a wild animal taking bites out of your face here in New York. However Tara couldn’t find herself complaining—well despite the fact that Sam turned this into a group outing—Tara couldn’t wait to see Johnnie.

Johnnie was Sam’s age, older than Tara, and easily became likable in Tara’s eyes although Sam often gave Johnnie a hard time even in the beginning. Of course they still had to be cautious but Tara always stood on the fact that she just wanted to live life after it’s been at risk of being taken away for good. She wouldn’t be as naive as last year but something about Johnnie had Tara’s insides turning into mush—in a good way though—not in a decaying guts kind of way.

The train ride was recommended by Johnnie to her family’s farm from the city and that became a whole debacle between the friends, until Tara waved her phone in the air saying that she already purchased a ticket while the rest could spend forever trying to figure out what they wanted to do. Mindy found this humorous how whenever Johnnie was mentioned, Tara made it her mission to be tuned into the conversation if she checked out.

Mindy was the first to pick up on the signs before Tara did and took great pride in Tara coming to her first out of the core four. Chad would argue against that saying he was actually the first since Tara did start to vent when they pulled a all nighter together. However he actually had no clue who Tara could be talking about and ended up eavesdropping when she chatted to Mindy one afternoon when he was supposed to be studying…basically pick a twin to believe at this point.

Tara couldn’t wipe the smile off her face on the train ride, fingers rapidly flying over her screen to the dimpled grin on her face when she spotted Johnnie helping out at the entrance of her family’s pumpkin patch.

“They’re with me, cousin.” Johnnie informs the family member with hair as white as snow, before grabbing up the walkie to contact someone else to head to the front and help out, now being off the clock with her friends here.

“Can we get more free perks for Christmas?” Chad asks as they briefly embrace and Johnnie rolls her eyes.

Johnnie folded her arms, “Why? So you can continue bringing your flings around and eat their tongues instead of enjoying the scenery?”

Chad frowned, “who are these flings that you speak of? I’m here enjoying the pumpkins with my favorite sister.”

As he goes to toss an arm over the curly haired girl’s shoulder, she shoves him away, “save it for the jury, Chad. I saw you eyeing that pretty girl with the shell earrings and racer jacket not too long ago.”

“I mean…she could be the one.” Chad couldn’t even bother to deny his wandering eyes.

Sam, Mindy, and Tara all share a groan while Danny snickers at Chad’s usual antics before being elbowed by Sam.

“Hey Tara,” Johnnie says, falling into step with the smaller girl; after informing everyone of the many activities the farm included.

Tara smiles up at her, “Hey Johnnie…remind me why we’re going pumpkin hunting so late into the season?”

“Well…I’m having a Friendsgiving next weekend at my spot and…that maybe partly true but I also wanted to hang out with you again before that.” Johnnie was honest with this, which made Tara slowly nod her head in appreciation.

Johnnie used to attend the same university as the three, received her degrees, started her business of creating designs on amputee’s prosthetics and moved to New Jersey two months ago to purchase her own home. So her having her shit together was definitely inspiring (and not to mention attractive) in Tara’s eyes and although she didn’t have everything figured out herself, one thing she was sure of: spending time with Johnnie felt right, scary yet comfortable and safe.

“Ohhh that’s right, I almost forgot about that.” Tara widens her eyes in realization, cursing to herself that she actually did forget about this but knew she could blame it on being swamped in school work, while Johnnie stumbles.

With a hand on her chest, she sighs playfully, “you wound me carpenter.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tara replies with a longing stare as they approach the line in front of a few booths.

Johnnie leans towards Tara who doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath, “what’re you in the mood for?”

“…hmm?” Tara asks, quickly pulling her eyes back to the line when Johnnie tries to catch her eye.

Johnnie laughs, “the menu. Anything catch your interest?”

“Well,” Tara starts as the autumn chill washes over the attendees on the farm, making her hunch her mesh covered shoulders a bit and clasp her hands together, “what would you recommend?”

“Everything.”

Tara scoffs as Johnnie winks at her.

“Can you even see the menu up ahead?”

“I’m not blind.”

“Nah, just short.” Johnnie teases while Tara quickly tosses a middle finger at the older girl.

Johnnie laughs to herself, picking up on tara’s attire which failed to keep her warm on this breezy farm. So Johnnie takes the opportunity to stand behind Tara instead, who is now bouncing on her tippy toes to what may seem like she was attempting to see the menu but it was probably to keep her blood flowing better.

Tara’s almost ready to swing until her belly realizes the familiar rasp by her ear, “you look cold, do you want a hug?”

Before her mouth can fumble out an answer, tatted hands come into Tara’s view as Johnnie locks her arms across Tara’s shoulders. She doesn’t find herself going stiff but easily welcomes Johnnie’s touch. A small smile graces Tara’s lips as her eyes fall in love with the dainty details of ink that decorate Johnnie’s skin. The artwork tells a story of Johnnie’s big heart which some may view as a contrast to her androgynous exterior much like the striking scar through Tara’s palm. That same scar Johnnie lightly draws a fingertip over from time to time and does so right now as Tara buries her nose against the side of Johnnie’s tatted other thumb.

Tara can even smell the balance of scents on Johnnie’s warm skin, a light creamy but earthy scent that makes Tara envision curling underneath blankets and staring out at Misty mountains instead of crowded streets full of loud voices, and suspicious faces. A sense of serenity that Tara wasn’t sure she’d ever find until she met Johnnie.

“What ya smiling at?”

Tara pries her eyes open, knowing she had been caught but keeps her eyes on the line that she didn’t realize moved forward some. “Nothing. You just think you’re so smooth when you could have been said you wanted to hold my hand earlier.”

Johnnie quickly places a peck to Tara’s temple so fast that she thinks she imagines it, “I want to do more than just hold your hand,” Johnnie ends up whispering before unraveling herself from Tara, who has to fight to hold herself up right.

“S’orry.” She mutters to those behind her as Johnnie takes the lead, heading right up to the stand, falling into small chatter with the worker before introducing an awkward Tara.

Tara is wide eyed as Johnnie banters back and forth for a little before they both set eyes on Tara.

“What?” Tara raises a brow, finding that she’s zoned out again just gazing at Johnnie socialize.

“You strike me as a apple nacho’s kinda girl.” The male worker says while Johnnie pretends to think about it.

“I’d say a apple cider donut but you’re of course welcome to try whichever or anything else on the board.” Johnnie responds, “on me.”

Tara tilts her head to the side, “what’re you getting?”

“The apple nachos,” Johnnie states.

Tara nods, “then I’ll get the donut…as long as you share.”

“Sure, sure. Anything you want,” Johnnie beams before turning back to the man, “you heard the lady!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He fans Johnnie with a knowing look before shouting out to the cooks off to the side.

With a carton tray full of crisp apple pastries—nachos, a side of caramel, two forks, and a yellow bag full of mini apple cider donuts, the two continued traveling through the large field together.

“Where have these been my entire life?” Tara groans after savoring the dessert.

Johnnie laughs, “right up here on this farm, I take it you’re enjoying those nachos?”

“Enjoying? More like I’d love to marry them! Can’t you tell by the way I’m murdering these bitches?! Perfect crunch on the outside and crisp from the apple on the inside, all with a side of caramel sauce?! It’s so delicious to the point i can’t even apologize for the noises you’re hearing because it’s your fault and I hope we finish them before the rest try to get any.” Tara admits through her rant while Johnnie abruptly stops.

Tara lifts her head, ready to question what was going on but Johnnie steered them in a different direction, “then we better head the other way since they’re all up by the goats and llamas.”

“Good call,” Tara says peeking over her shoulder to see Sam all cuddled up with Danny.

Disgustingly so.

Johnnie’s family farm was nice to be at although the temperature was constantly dropping but there weren’t many people out this evening, which was fine by Tara. The further they circled around the farm the closer they got to one of the rides here. It was the Ali baba—the large swing on the boot of a bulldozer? The pair stood beside each other outside the gate, watching as a few faces disappeared higher into the now gravel colored sky from side to side.

“you think someone died here?” Tara asks around the donut she previously stuffed her freckled face with.

Johnnie glances at tara and rotates to her better ear, “huh?”

The air from the ride and the earth along with the carnival music made it a bit difficult but after tara finishes the donut she speaks a bit louder, repeating the question, “you think someone died here?”

A couple shoot Tara a nasty look as they exit from behind the fence and Johnnie smirks at them with a mocking wave, leaning against the metal gate. Tara let’s out a snort as she leans towards Johnnie.

“Where’s that coming from?” Johnnie sweeps Tara’s bangs to the side.

Tara shrugs, “apparently horror films are not just a one month thing with Mindy. We’re now on your favorite series: final destination.”

Johnnie dips her head in understanding, “Ah,” and almost feels flattered that Tara remembered, “well this farms been open for about fifteen years and that ride’s only been around for the past five maybe? As far I know…no deaths. Why? You wanna get on?”

“Hell yeah I do,” Tara nods with a grin, “and I don’t care that I may puke everything up. As long as you promise to hold my hand.”

Johnnie taps her chin before matching Tara’s smile after lightly pressing their foreheads together, “I think I can do that, babe.”

‘Babe?!’ Tara thinks to herself as Johnnie takes their trash to the nearest barrel before meeting Tara half way with her hand held out.

And Tara doesn’t hesitate as she slips her smaller hand into Johnnie’s tatted one. She gives Tara’s hand a squeeze, fingers interlocked which Tara gazes down at while Johnnie watches Tara. When tara flicks her brown doe eyes back to meet Johnnie’s, they smile sweetly once more, feeling like this could be the start of—nope not something new! but a romance worth taking a stab-wait that’s not right either! chance on.

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[artzzyb00-27]

{💙Secret Admirer💙}

Taken from your family and brought up in a place you loathed was something screwed up. Even more so when you're experimented on to explore your "potential" in their eyes. That's how it was for reader, taken from Earth with a portal and raised by the Krang in attempt to create a weapon for mass conquer and destruction was torture.

Even more so when she got to age limit of training and was sent to Earth after the attempted invasion to try again. Secretly lightly sabotaging her "families" efforts at opportunity. It became greater with the turtles appearing in her life. She found them interesting, being in the near vicinity made her feel like she wasn't abnormal due to having powers that her captors gave her.

Every time they showed up to decipher the Krang's plans, she'd leave clues blatantly out, but not so obvious for them to get suspicious. After some watching from afar, she could tell that the one baring katanas and wearing blue as his color palette was the one giving orders. Drawing interest towards him from reader.

A few instances and being at the same place at the same time without interacting turned into her rescuing his shell any chance she could. It became scary how easily he got distracted and got his ass kicked. So using the very thing that made her a villain in anyone else eyes, she started turning the tide in favor of the turtles.

At some point after continuing to aide the guys, they realized their success wasn't just luck anymore. Specifically Leo's luck. One time when fighting some Foot Soldiers, they managed to get the slip on Leo, literally, and had him falling of a building. Instead of landing hard and cracking his shell, he slowed down in the air and landed on his feet without injury. Another incident was an attempted ambush on the Foot Soldiers trying to steal supplies at the docks and they knocked Leo out getting him kidnapped.

When his brothers couldn't reach him in time, the truck with an unconscious Leo began to drive away before it was shot at the tire, causing it to flip and have Leo fly out. After returning to the lair the brothers had tried to look through nearby security cameras to find the source of the blast. No chance. Cameras were already altered as if the altercation never happened.

Which only confirmed their believes that someone was helping. How it occurred, they didn't know. Till this point they've never seen magic before, or other mutants with powers so at first they believed it to be technologically advanced assistance. Like anti-gravitational beam guns, or biotech from afar.

When Leo was almost killed by a Foot Soldier catching him off guard, stopping mid-air floating with a katana aimed for Leo's throat and sent flying the opposite direction, Raph reached his limit.

"We can't pretend like that didn't happen!"

"I know Raph, but what do you want to do? Call 'em up and say, 'Hey, thanks for saving me! Also who are you?'" Rolling his eyes and trying to walk away from the conversation. Of all people to not be complaining about the help, Leo was not expected to be the one to act like this. Typically he'd be confrontational right away if it was happening to any other of his brothers.

"Hypocrite." That made the leader freeze. With the other two siblings hold their breathes. "If it was Mikey, you'd be begging Don' to help you investigate whoever was causing this to happen. Why is it so easy for you to ignore your own safety." With a hard sigh, Leo turned around with his head up and eyes closed.

"Fine. Let's find out who this person is." After some discussing, they came up with a plan. Donnie had been developing holo-bots. Helpful for training, and in-combat fighting against enemies. Using an AI design page that he pirated(as if he was spending 30$) he was able to make the holo-bots look like foot soldiers.

After some further detail fining, they set up the "ambush" of Foot Soldiers on turtle leader. And like planned, mystery hero showed up. Or more accurately, mystery heroine. When one of the holo-bots "cut" Leo's leg and he made a convincing groan of pain, reader leapt down and activated her powers. Before blowing them up though, they dissipated back to their mini-portable computers and Leo's injury was revealed fake.

When she finally realized he was examining her with intensity, she thought he was judging her or planning on how to attack. So being reasonable, she turned to flea but ended up being surrounded by the others. At an attempt to try and keep running, Raph pinned her cloak to a metal pole with his Sai.

"Why do you always keep saving my brother? Why you so keen on keeping him safe? Who the hell even are you?" As Raph continued getting closer, reader began zoning out and have and anxiety attack. Until Mikey makes his brother back up and helps reader calm down.

"You okay there?" With a swift nod, Mikey smiled and she gave small one back.

'At least Mikey can get through to her. Better him than any of us three.' Leo thought internally.

"I'm really sorry for our brothers behavior. We don't have a lot of friends so he's really used to being abrasive like he is with us." Reader smiled and took the Sai of her cloak.

"It's alright, I understand. I'm the same way sometimes believe it or not." She said giving Raph his weapon back, receiving a quiet apology in return.

Still silent Leo continued observing her, trying to find any malice that could be hidden. But there wasn't. This girl was genuine with her actions.

"My name is Reader. I save Leo because one I know how much you need him, and two, I recognize a kind spirit when I see one. He's worthy of saving. As are all of you, but you're brother is quiet clumsy."

With embarrassment, Leo tries to ignore the smirks on his brother's faces and talk to the girl who had been saving his life.

"Thank you, I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't wanted to save me. I hope you continue to assist us in the future." With a slight nod she gave Donnie her contact information while continuing to explain.

"I came from Earth, but the Krang took me a long time ago. Experimented on me till I turned eighteen and was sent during the attempted invasion. I'm not helping them or the Foot though, I only pretend so they don't bother me. In turn I sabotage what I can and make sure I don't get caught." Admirable, cool, smart, powerful, kind-hearted. Smitten. Leo's smitten. Does he advance it? No, he'd make Raph leader first. But god, was she attractive on all his boxes.

"Hello? Are you there?" Reader asked concerned, oblivious to what was happening. Leo tried stumbling out an apology till Mikey's laughter interrupted him. Which gained him ten laps for later. "Alright, well I need to get going. Before the Foot Clan gets suspicious and all. Byyyyyyye!!"

Using her powers to fly-jump far away and continue racing through rooftops quickly, Leo just smiled at her using her purple essence to navigate her own way. Hearing a cough he turned to look at his brothers who were smirking in amusement.

"Gimme that contact Donnie. Donnie, Donnie! Give it to me!" He continued to yell chasing after his brother who was laughing(chortling) his ass off. Raph and Mikey followed after them laughing to.

After that, for a while she did keep in touch. Would hang out at night and brought pizza sometimes for them to eat but at one point she just disappeared. Obviously, it didn't make sense. Especially when trying to message her, the phone auto sent with a notice that the phone number was out of service. A couple months passed and the brother's assumed she was sent back to Dimension-X1416.(Get the reference?)

Leo was hit the hardest, especially with little to no fights during the time she was gone. The lair been more quiet and Leo couldn't handle it anymore, so he left the lair for a bit to clear his mind. Receiving looks from his family.

When on top of the Guggenheim Museum watching city lights from afar he sighed out.

"Something on your mind, turtle boy?" That voice. Turning his head in surprise, Reader stood their with an upgraded version of her old battle outfit. It was mixed with casual clothing like purple Jordans and fingerless gloves. Smiling hard Leo got up and raced over to her.

"Holy shit!" he yelled and swooped her into a hug and spun around a bit. With her laughing as well. Setting her down, he got a good look on her. She gained a few new scars but minor ones. One the went over her nose and another up her neck.

"What's with the look?"

"You were gone for months without telling us. What happened?" Shrugging she walked near the edge took a deep breathe. Leo went over to her just enough so people below wouldn't see him.

"Foot Clan moved to Japan to gain equipment for something. Since the fight was moving over, I had to leave. And I wanted to make sure they didn't grow suspicious of me being on the phone constantly, due to a certain cute mutant turtle with a blue bandana was texting me 'Good morning' messages." Getting embarrassed at her rant/scolding/flirty statement, Leo rubbed the back of his neck laughing softly.

"I mean why do you think I saved you? Yeah I wanted to help but, there's are multiple reasons why I mainly saved you compared to your brothers." Again getting more hot under his skin Leo smirked and looked up.

"Glad to know the magical sparks mutual huh?"

"Don't push it."

[seaseren]

Fuck it, little spur of the moment thing. Stopping here because I wanna check the dialogue in game b4 I write more- there's a couple other things I should check out too, while I'm there, but I'm lazy rn. I haven't written much in a while cut me some slack

It was sort of a spur of the moment thing.

Alisaie had been unfortunately idle these past few months. Since she and Alphinaud had been kicked out of Garlemald (or, if one was feeling generous, been begged to take a vacation) the both of them had been aimless. Alphinaud has checked out as many tomes as he could find on the topics of cultural change and recovery, but the fact of the matter was that he had read many of them already for some class or another. Theory was, in this case, not really giving them anything new to work with. They had been spending time with their parents, of course- Father had, in his own way, been overjoyed- but Alisaie felt awkward in the home she had grown up in. She was used to roughing it by now, used to being on the move, used to being treated like a colleague and not constantly surrounded by parents and staff who all still saw her as a child.

Alphinaud must have felt the same way, because about two months after they arrived back in Old Sharlayan he disappeared.

Alisaie hadn’t worried, at first- not that she worried afterwards!- when she went a day without seeing him. It was easy enough to assume he’d lost himself in the library and would either surface around suppertime or would have to be fetched. But supper came and went, and night fell around across the island, and it was only when Alisaie had been to the Noumenon and back and resorted to clambering through the secret passage that led to his office- which she found, to both her satisfaction and her annoyance, she was much too large to easily clamber through anymore- that she found the letter.

It read-

Dearest Sister, Parents, and Assorted Loved Ones

I have found myself invited to a most curious opportunity, and have resolved to fulfill this request to the best of my abilities. Worry not, I am in good hands, and much love to you all.

-well, it said quite a bit more than that, but she was good at summarizing. She, along with their parents, spent some time pouring over it, searching for any actual details. It was certainly Alphinaud’s handwriting- at age nine he had spent a laborious summer perfecting his script, determined to make sure his hand could never be mistaken for another's- and she was able to convince them both that Alphinaud could almost certainly take care of himself. Still, it rackled that he would just run off like that, with barely a clue as to what he was doing! And it rackled even more that he would simply leave her behind.

The next morning she ate a long breakfast with her parents, who were trying their best to disguise their anxiety, then headed over to the Annex. As much as she teased him, Alphinaud and Krile were close, and with Storm gone, if Alphinaud was to tell anyone what he was up to, it would most likely be her. It was midmorning by the time she arrived, but the air was already warm, the usual morning fog burning off to reveal a clear early summer's day. Sharlayan was not exactly hot, but after nearly a year in Garlemald even these mild temperatures felt like a warm blanket- Alisaie hoped for his own sake that Alphinaud’s mysterious business was not taking him to Thanalan or anywhere else with a real summer. 

The Lalafell at the front desk- Emmica? Olrika? Tsun…something?- waved to her as she entered. “Joining the meeting, Miss Leveilleur?” he asked politely, and Alisaie nodded, though she had known about no such thing. She convinced herself it had something to do with Alphinaud- though why he wouldn't tell her was beyond her still- and pushed open the doors to the main hall.

“-kind of mighty warrior just up and retires?!” 

Alisaie started, just a bit, at the voice that seemed to fill the space as soon as the heavy doors were open. She couldn’t recognize it, or even the accent, but they sounded incredulous.

“People are allowed to retire, you know,” came the clipped reply. That voice Alisaie definitely recognized, and she cast her mind about trying to conjure a face that went with it, before she gave up and just looked for the speaker. It was that Viera gleaner, the one who had helped them get info out of the Forum members in Labyrinthos, the one who was named…who probably had a name. Erenville, that was it, she remembered Storm mentioning it.

“Well sure, people are allowed, but Father would never!” said the first speaker again. Alisaie narrowed her eyes a bit. Even in diverse, cosmopolitan Sharlayan she had never really seen a girl Hrothgar, and this one was in a style of dress that certainly didn’t look Bozjan. She wasn’t that tall- at least, for a Hrothgar, she certainly towered over Alisaie- but she had a presence to her that has Alisaie wondering how she had managed to overlook her, even for a second. She paced the hall in front of Erenville, who was draped across a chair, one foot tapping pointedly, and Krile and Raha. It seemed Raha had been the one to break the bad news- his hands were still up in a conciliatory gesture. Krile seemed distracted, her gaze fixed at some desk along the wall, eyes narrowed in thought. There was no sign of Alphinaud. Things could never be easy.

Raha’s ear twitched, and he turned to face Alisaie as she fully stepped into the room. He smiled over to her, slightly rueful, as the Viera and Hrothgar continued their argument behind him (“Your father retiring is the whole reason we’re here.” “Well that’s different! He’s old!”)

“Alisaie! I didn’t know you would be joining us.”

“I didn’t know there would be anything to join,” she said. “I came to ask Krile if she had spoken with Alphinaud recently. He’s disappeared, and left naught but an ominous note behind.”

[genius-billionare-playboy]

Avengers Headcannons

-main 6-

no warnings

set between civil war and infinity war

Tony Stark

-his sunglasses barely protect his eyes. in fact, has trouble seeing out of the different colored sunglasses he wears, but it makes him feel cool, so he wears them. end of story.

-owns countless different suits and ties, just for all of them to look exactly the same. he's in denial about it.

-a guy who probably prefers records and CD over platforms like spotify, when he feels like listening to music.

-has (and still does) own nerdy science shirts like peter, but only wears them on his floor.

-he uses so much hair gel/hair spray to keep his hair looking neat, despite hating the feeling of it. appearance always comes first, according to him.

-has several times stolen steve's suit to "improve it," when he was actually just trying it on and posing in the mirror. (not a ship!)

-he LOVES watching gilmore girls and dance moms. its a guilty pleasure that only pepper needs to know about.

-gives people nicknames because he cannot care less about someones name, or he just really likes them. no in between.

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Steve Rogers

-has those cute fluffy socks with dogs on them, but no one ever sees them with his costume on.

-uses all of tony's hair products, (usually asks), and tries different methods to make his hair stay in place.

-during civil war, he truly knew that giving in to the government would be the best, but was afraid he would be taken control of.

-has bleached his hair many times as a teenager, and does not regret it at all.

-shops at the most random stores. this man probably has clothes gap, even though he can afford anything he wants.

-younger, he could not cook to save his life. with the help of nat, wanda and vision, he cooks femominally and is the unofficial baker in the avengers tower.

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Thor Odison

-for a while, he had no clue as to why others couldn't pick up mjolnir. he truly thought that they were worthy.

-enjoys trying new drinks (alcoholic or not) and foods whenever he can.

-has electrocuted himself several times while trying to unplug something.

-ironically, he spends the least time on his hair, and it looks the best.

-once called clint mjolnir on accident, and now does it on purpose just to annoy him.

-has horrible taste in clothes, but always pulls off a look bc well... its thor.

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Clint Barton

-has no idea what he's doing in his life anymore, but its whatever. he finds a way.

-has terrible memory. not because of age, just in general.

-even before losing his hearing fully, he always had poor hearing. at some point natasha started throwing little things like pens at him to get his attention.

-has on several occasions forgotten which arrows do what, but it usually works out in his favor.

-cherishes his bows more than himself. arrows? don't matter. he'll just go buy some more. bows, however? will throw himself to protect them without hesitating.

-uses kate's skincare thinking she doesn't realize (she totally knows and is over the moon about it)

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Natasha Romanoff

-loves trying new haircuts on a daily basis.

-had a phase in high school where she had bangs and dyed her hair crazy colors. is still recovering from it.

-at first, she was almost annoyed finding out she was the only female on the avengers. now, she couldn't care less.

-her and wanda go on shopping sprees at least once a month. its mandatory.

-finds little pleasure in sitting and watching tv, but enjoys it when its with people she likes.

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Bruce Banner

-unironically, his favorite color is green.

-loves wearing button-down shirts, but hates wearing suits. thinks that they are uncomfortable and too classy.

-afraid that he will hurt someone he loves as the hulk.

-his favorite weather is snow, but he dislikes rain.

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that's all for now!

my apologies since they kind of basic and there's not much for a few characters.

as this is my first post, any and all suggestions are sincerely appreciated. please feel free to ask for any hcs or send a fic prompts, I try my best to be frequently active.

have a great day!