#and he just have a room full of little trinkets and random stuff people had given him throughout the centuries
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When you realized if Tamlin can shapeshift other people that means he can perform gender-affirming surgery for anybody who asked!!!
#ok but imagine humans crossing the Wall to bargain with him and him being an awkwardly sweet boi and just ask them for something random#like a cool rock or the first fruit of their first harvest#and he just have a room full of little trinkets and random stuff people had given him throughout the centuries#this is inspired by that one time the Magnus Archives fandom all agreed that Jared Hopsworth said trans right#(but then he turned out the be a lil' homophobic)#Tamlin would be an excellent avatar of the flesh btw#pro tamlin#tamlin as the patron god of trans and nb people for the win#pro tamlin headcanon
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Isagi Yoichi ââš Headcanons
ଳ Character; Isagi Yoichi (Bllk)
ଳ Tags; (random) regular/platonic hcs
â Heâs the type of person who avoids stepping on the cracks on the sidewalk whenever he goes out on his usual walks. Whenever he does accidentally step on a crack, he lets out an audible âtskâ and is a bit annoyed by the fact.
â On the top shelf of his cabinet, thereâs a reused cookie tin where he chucks all the cool rocks he found on his walks. He has had the thing since childhood and now he doesnât know what to do with it. So it has been collecting dust there and heâs pretending that it doesnât exist.
â Heâs a plain texter, but not a dry one. The only shortcuts he uses are otw, brb, ty, and btw. Heâs guilty of overusing this emoji đ and he unironically uses this one đ. He uses both in a non-sarcastic manner. His top 5 emojis are: đđđťđđâ˝ď¸
â His room is neat and tidy which his parents constantly praise him for. However, the colors are a bit dull. The only eye-catching area would be his manga shelf. Heâs proud of his collection and enjoys rearranging it whenever he buys new manga. He arranges them by genre, so he can easily find something to read to fit his mood.
â He is a MAJOR sweet tooth. Heâd eat sweets exclusively all day if he could. The only thing thatâs stopping him was that one time he got extremely sick after eating too much kintsuba as a little kid. âModeration is key,â heâd say while eating sweets.
â Despite being a sweet tooth, heâs not a picky eater. He eats anything his mother cooks which he is praised for as well. He doesnât particularly hate any kind of food, but heâd prefer not to have bitter stuff. Even though heâs an active and growing dude, he isnât much of a big eater. He actually gets full pretty fast.
â He likes to tell dad jokes which he stole learned from his dad. His personal favorite (which makes him chuckle a bit before saying it) is, âWhat has 4 wheels and flies? A garbage truck!â The only person who has laughed at that joke was his younger cousin that came to visit them at their house some time ago.
â His parents keep an odd doodle of a cyborg-looking creature picture framed in their kitchen. It was one of Isagiâs drawings from when he was just 6 years old. He gifted it to his mom on her birthday because he thought she loved his art.
â His biggest pet peeve is people who chew loudly. Somehow he can hear it more compared to other people. It irks him so much to the point that it makes him lose appetite altogether. He usually eats faster, so that he can relieve himself of those horrid sounds.
â Whenever he goes to the mall, there are 3 places he absolutely needs to visit. The first one is the sporting goods store so he can check out some new football equipment he might like. The second one is the 100ÂĽ store (dollar store). He likes to look for cool trinkets and kitchen tools for his mom or tools for repair for his dad. Lastly, he has to go to the sweets shop that sells his favorite kintsuba.
â Much like on the field, itâs like Isagi transforms into a different person whenever heâs playing multiplayer games. It doesnât matter if itâs the enemy or his teammateâtheyâre all catching some fire.
â Sometimes he canât fall asleep quickly because heâs thinking up of scenarios (he does this to fall asleep quicker, but it has the opposite effect). He likes to repeat events if they didnât turn out well or if it wasnât as vivid as he wanted it to be.
Îľ( Îľ ËÂłË)É ď˝ĄÂ° ⏠・ Likes and reblogs are appreciated
o-sachi Š 2024
#isagi yoichi#isagi x reader#isagi blue lock#isagi#blue lock#isagi bllk#bllk#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock fluff#isagi fluff#sachimi writes
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Lawlu Headcanons
Law has a bad relationship with food. It always made him sicker as a kid, and there was only specific food he could eat. Now he can't stand them. He tends not to eat off his own plate but will nibble from Luffy's.
Luffy at first didn't like that. Law ate his food, and he grew up in a big household where if you dont watch or guard your food, it gets taken, and you don't eat. Yet he also noticed that if Law doesn't do that, he just doesn't eat for days. So Luffy sets aside some food on his plate just for his boyfriend. It's a compromise he can live with.
Law likes big romantic gestures. His favorite displays of love are direct statements as he often doubts that he deserves to be loved. It's a nice reminder and makes him happy, and blushes a ton. Now he won't tell anybody this and in public will act all grumpy at such announcements but inside he is very much melting. And Luffy knows it, so he always doubles down xd
Luffy likes physical touch and gifts. He always initiates any exchange but also secretly wants someone to do a thing first for him. It's selfish, and usualy, he dont mind being selfish but not with his friends and crew. He often looks out for them first if its something he considers important to them.
Law likes to give random trinkets, a cool rock or shell that made him think of Luffy. Law is an artist, a sculptor at heart so he always seas things in nature or gift shops. He also does it because he loves to see Luffy smile and try to figure out new cool thing he got.
There is a whole room on the sunny where they keep everything people gave them over the journey. Nami, Sanji, and Usopp used it the most, but now there is a whole shelf that's full of stuff that Law gave Luffy.
Luffy has nightmares. He never let anyone know except maybe Jimbei, who was there, and he understands.
Law when he travels with the strawhats, he tends to crash either in the crows nest, that is his comfort place as it is open to the sky or next to Luffy who just makes him feel safe.
Law has woken once or twice to Luffy's nightmare and seen an uncharacteristic side to the pirate. It's rare that Luffy shows fear, but in these moments, he is vulnerable and afraid of losing more people. Law holds Luffy and just lets him talk about the little things, the small doubts that he may have or had during tough battles. He always pushes through them no matter what and moves on, but after a nightmare from the war, they tend to surface.
Law has nightmares as well, more often than Luffy, from the night on swallow island to when his town burned, to the days and days he had to spend hiding in a pile of corpses. There is no end to things that plague his mind. Things he doesn't like to talk about. He goes nonverbal right after. Luffy talks enough for the both of them, which is what Law needs, a distraction from the past. Luffy tells either Usopps wild stories, or about random islands, or even what cool bug he saw that day. Whatever crosses his mind in the moment until Law falls asleep again.
Law doesn't want biological children. Even if he could cure them, its not perfect. They could still end up with chronic pain and a billion other issues just like him.
Luffy is most likely to just pick up kids, accidental baby acquisition runs in the family, lol. He never thought about having kids of his own, but if he did, he would name at least one after Ace.
The idea of adoption had not crossed Law's mind and when it does a whole slew of other doubts surface, over how good a father he could be when he can barely take care of himself, physiclly atleast and with Luffy? Who is just as reckless? It's not a better prospect than biokids.
When the day comes and Luffy ends up taking in a kid, they both turn out to be better fathers then either expected. Luffy doesn't want his kid to feel abandoned like he did as a kid, and Law doesn't want the kid to doubt that it is loved. They and their crews spoil the child and always remind that it is wanted and deserves to live however it wants. They are very much doting parents xd. Reckless, but they teach the kid how to fight. Luffy teaches them Haki, and Law teaches them medicine and sword fighting. Their child will grow up to be stronger than both of them.
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Hello! I'm a novice writer/this is my first time writing, it's still a bit of a work in progress I don't quite have a name for it either but I would like to ask people's options on what I have so far!
Here I am, getting kidnapped by this random stranger, who is running from the guards. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation. Well, to understand that we have to go back to the very beginning.
My earliest memories. I was just finished being created as a gift for my creator's son. And soon after completion, I was handed off to his son â the person I was intended for. His room was filled with trinkets and gizmos; I was set in a small box with other artifacts. Soon after, I was taken out again. But this time it was a little different. He said something about needing to fix a toy, and he needed some parts. I blacked out after thatânot great for storytelling. But when I came to, I was in a wooden box filled with rubbish, on the side of the road. What an ungrateful child taking apart and throwing away a gift he just got from his father, how rude.
I was sitting there for quite a while; it was quite boring. All that happened was wagons going right past me. But later, a wagon stopped. A man came out and started looking through the box of rubbish. Who does this? You don't know where that stuff has been. I guess I should be grateful because he ended up picking me up and taking me to his shop. The man cleaned me up and put me on display. I was missing a few parts, some small sapphires and a moonstone. Which of course made no one want me.
A few months went by. People came in and out of the store taking one glance at me and never looking at me again. But one day, this strange person came into the store. They looked unusual. Strange white hair, bright pink eyes, and metallic piercings. Honestly, they looked poor. But that was the strangest thing. Why would this person living in poverty come into an expensive-looking store like this?
They had quite the silver tongue. They were able to convince the store owner that they were a noble dressed up as a commoner. Which they were not. The strange person walked around the store grabbing a few things from the shelves and putting them back. Then they walked over to me and looked straight at me. I was sure they were going to walk away, but, no, they grabbed me. They had fast hands. They grabbed me without the store owner noticing. They proceeded to tell the store owner they didn't see anything they wanted and left. But of course, the store owner went to check on the area where I was and noticed I was gone. He then proceeded to call the guards on them.
Here we are: back to the present where I'm weighing my options. I can either help this person or let them get caught and returned to the store. Getting returned to the store is probably the safer option, but I donât think it would be very fun to be returned to a store full of antiques.
Weighing my options, I decided to escape. Slowing down time was the best choice.
Flash!
Confused, the stranger whispers, âWhat the hell?!â
They seem confused. Can this person not read?
The stranger took the chance and bolted down the alleyway. Itâs about time we got away from those guards. I mean,you live here. I thought you would have known this place better than that.
In a daze, the stranger mumbles, âDid I pick up a magic artifact or something?â
âNo, itâs a totally normal pocket watch.â
âAhh! It talks!?â They yelped in surprise, flinching away from me.
Did they just not read the label?
âOh, does it?â
A few moments of silence occurred before the stranger started pacing back and forth while mumbling to themself. It was quite amusing to watch.
âNo wonder there were so many guards. I can't believe I mistakenly took a magic artifactâa talking one at that.â The stranger ran a hand through their hair, laughing nervously to themself.
âHow do you even mistakenly steal a magic artifact?â
âStealing you wasnât the mistake! The mistake was I didnât know what you were!â
âYeah, thatâs what I said.â
âThatâs not what you- Oh my god..â
They let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing their forehead in contempt. They began walking in silence. After a few minutes I started giggling, he didn't look amused. It was impossible not to laugh, I mean come on who wouldn't laugh in this situation? After a while, we arrived at a small green tent. It looked like he had been living there for a while but not in a bad way but not a good one either. He put me down on a table in the tent and just left me there. Honestly, the tent reminded me of a military tent. There were boxes and bags in every corner not just outside but inside too. I could hear him rummaging through boxes in the distance. There were some papers out of my reach but it's not like I could do much if I could reach them, I mean I don't have hands.
Where is it? How did It even end up like this? This is a mess. I kept looking through the boxes until I found it.
âThere it is!â
It was a small purple cylinder and three diamond-yellow-shaped buttons.
I could see it from where I was sitting. It stood out like a sore thumb, I don't know how they lost it. They pressed down on one of the buttons and a blue screen popped out.
I couldn't read any of the text on it, I was too far away. They were pressing buttons on the screen, and I think they were contacting someone. It looked pretty expensive. They stole it, didn't they?
After a few minutes, they snatched me off the table. Ow!
âJeez calm down.â
âWonderful conversation.â
They just walked in silence, kinda rude if you ask me. Through the back alleys avoiding the guards, until we came upon a small shop. It looked a bit run down but it had a strangely calming atmosphere. We walked in when the bell on the door rang.
Ding!
Footsteps came racing from the other room.
âJust a minute!â
A long haired man came stumbling out of the back. Long wavy blond hair flowed down his shoulders, paired with Nordic blue eyes.
âSorry for the wait!â
âI see you got some new additions since last time.â
The shelves were filled to the brim with magic trinkets. Some were strung from the ceiling, others were neatly stuffed on shelves. The long haired man moved toward the counter.
âSo I heard about the trinket you acquired.â
âHow did that news get to you already?â
âI have my ways. But what exactly is it?â
The stranger dangled me in front of the man.
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Hi hope youâre having a wonderful day! Could I please get a bnha coraline au story. So like y/n has had a pretty bad life like a whole bunch of stuff and now they have to basically parents their own parents at the age of 15 cause theyâre lazy alcoholics who just go to work come back and drink. One day after they move in y/n gets curious and finds explores around the house while theyâre alone and discovers the door to the other world and meets their dream parents. The parents are aizawa and present mic who just genuinely love the reader, they donât want to take readers soul that just want to help them. They have a sister eri and a brother shinso and when reader tries to leave they all beg and threaten reader not to leave cause âyour parents never cared for you anywaysâ and âweâll love you more then they ever wouldâ and force reader to be the new baby of the family gender neutral reader if possible, please and thank you ( 03^)~đ
YANDERE CORALINE AU ERASERMIC FAMILY X READER
GN READER
-I do apologize if you wanted a shorter work, because this ended up being kinda long, sorry!
-there are a few grammar and spelling mistakes here and there, this is unedited, I will fix them :)
(I donât know if you actually wanted the reader to be treated like a baby, literally like an infant, or just like the youngest in the family, I needed up doing the second option, tell me if wrong.)
ââââââââââââââââââââââ-
You hummed a tune as you wandered the hallways, your footsteps dragging, you had tried to tell your mother to drink some water and put the strong bottle of vodka down before she ended up killing herself. She yelled at you, told you to âshut the hell up ya damn bratâ, god knows where your father even is. It had only been a day or two in this house, and they had already made it feel like a prison for you, oh my, A SINGLE DAY.
In all honesty the house was nice, old, yes, but still nice. It seemed as if the last owners hadnât been here for hundreds of years, let alone clean the place, as all embellishments on the walls were antique styled, and everything, I repeat, everything, was covered in dust. There were a few different pieces of furniture that looked as ancient as the neighbors, including a dresser filled with a different articles of clothing, a few dusty chairs here and there, curtains clawed away by... something, and little tables with droors filled with little trinkets.
One room in particular was exceptionally creepy in your eyes, it seemed like a child once slept there, probably long dead by now, the walls were covered in a striped floral wallpaper, chipping at the edges, various stuffed animals that hadnât been touched in ages, what looked to be a changing table, and a smaller sized bed placed in the middle, fitted with dusty purple bedsheets, probably that color because of the gathering dust, you sat down on the mattress, inhaling the scent of the room. It smelled oddly of lavender, not a musty mildew smell you were expecting. You spent a moment just finding comfort in the warm smell, before noticing a small dent in the wall behind what you thought could be a changing table. Almost looked like... a tiny door?
âWhat the heck is that?â You questioned or yourself, narrowing your eyes at the wooden frame that looked like a small threshold, cautiously standing up form the bed, and making your way over to the door, you struggled to move the large piece of furniture, pushing back gains the groun and shoving it out of the way. It was indeed a door, and it was indeed tiny. There was a small cobweb strung across the mass of it, which you batted away with your little hands, pulling at the doorknob a few times to reveal the fact that it was locked, you let out an exasperated sigh. Well... itâs not like you have much to do, might as well find the key.
Surprisingly, it hadnât taken long for you to find the small, heart shaped key that fit the locked door, it was tucked into one of the white droors of the small table in the corner. It was the first place you looked, almost as if itâd been calling out for you. It only took a few moments for you to push the key into the lock and turn, you let out a sigh of relief when you heard the satisfying click of the lock opening. Wondering what was going to be on the other side, you pushed open the mini door, to reveal a tunnel of sorts... todayâs just full of surprises isnât it.
âMan this tunnel is lo... whoah.â You stood, still balled up in a crawli mg position, shocked at your own surroundings. Everything looked so... new, and polished, you stared Jan absolute awe at everything, literally everything. Where are you?
âOh, honey youâre finally here!â A male voice rang out from behind you, immediately large hands were lifting you off the floor from under your arms, holding you like a baby, this guy cradled your head in his chest, no matter how much you squirmed, the iron grip he had on you did not loosen. You snapped your head up to meet his eyes, only to be met with buttons of such a piercing yellow it almost hurt your own eyes. A shrill scream left your lips, as you flung your feet back and forth in attempts to free yourself.
âOh, oh right. Iâm sorry , I shouldâve been a little slower, itâs scary I know, youâll get used to it I promise. Iâm hizashi, your other father, re you alright?â He questioned, backing up a little to give you space, bringing his hands up to tell you he wasnât going to hurt you, ever. You were usually a calm person, but given the situation, like some random person living in your house with buttons for eyes, the reaction was warranted. You breathed for a small moment, inhaling the even stronger scent of lavender that was oh so comforting, before standing back up, giving whatever this was at a chance of explanation.
âWho- who are you?â The question left your lips faster than tryouts could hold it in, he gave you a smile and walked closer again, booping your nose and once again pulling you off the ground. He was tall, slightly lanky, and his hair was a bright yellow to match his eyes, little dangle earring wee attached to his ears, you just stared in awe at the inhuman man who was holding you.
âSilly little thing! I just said it! Iâm your other father, like your real father, just perfect for you! Dinners almost ready, so letâs go meet the rest of the fmIly okay bubs?â He questioned m, speaking down to you like one would a child, even though you are a fully capable human. He grabbed your hand, and gently rigged you off into some hallway, you slightly dig your feet in, staring back at the little door that got you here in the first place.
âââ
âHoney, this is your reality, if it was perfectly fit for you! We love you, unlinke those scum who call your your parents, donât your bat to be loved for once y/n?â He spoke, the two of you arrived at what was probably the kitchen, him explaining what was happening pretty thoroughly considering he had to do it in a few minutes, barging through the doors, a few other pairs of button eyes were scattered thievhiur the kitchen.
âDaddy! I helped bubba make dinner tonight!â A little girl, probably not even over the age of five, came running towards the two of you, smiling fully. She was sporting a pair of red buttons, which matched her little jumper, you had your face buried in this ma- hizashis chest, his arms wrapped around the entirety of you. He sent an exited stare towards the little girl, who jsut gasped and smiled even harder. She made little grabby hands towards you, so hizashi set you down on the ground, whispering a âtime to get downâ in your ear. Instantly, the little girl attached herself to your torso.
âBubba/sissy!â She squealed, patting your stomach, as much as you would love to knock her off of you, sheâs a kid, you donât do that to kids. This young girl claimed to be your other sister, which at this point you were led to believe because apparently anything is possible at this point, she was pretty adorable.
âI-uh, yeah?â You spluttered, visibly flustered, you tried to get a grip of yourself, it was kindof odd, although the girl seemed much younger than you, the way she carried herself presented that she was much older than she came off, from the maternal glint in her eyes, to the planned movements, it just seemed... mature.
âââââsmall time skipâââââ
It had been maybe an hour, you had been seated at a dinner table, quite the large one actually, in between a black haired man that you could tell was staring at you, and a purple haired teenager who looked to be a similar age to you. You sat there just kindof awkwardly trying to not touch any of them. At one pint. The purple haired guy tried to feed you, which was an unfortunate suprise because you were off in dreamland, and were ckmoemteky confused as to why he was even trying something like that.
âYouâll probably hurt yourself trying, just let me do itâ he spoke, it is safe to say that this button eyed family is an odd bunch. First the woerd door, then a creepy guy tryna pick you up, then some little girl who probably wasnât so little claiming you to be her âyounger siblingâ; then the offpdutirng glances front his beanbag guy, than this? What is happening.
Sooner or later, after the really odd display that was dinner had finished, and you had help washing your hands, because for some reason they thought you needed it, it was announced bettime, and with a snap of the man him you learned name was Aizawa, food was gone, along with all the dishes. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you almost lied this, of course not the babying thing, but the fact that you werenât cooking or cleaning or trying to snatch a bottle from your parents, it almost made you wnat to cry how perfect this family was. God how much you wished this was your own.
Itâs sounds selfish, and unreasonable, but you never had a childhood, the day you were born your life was already sighted off as âservant of my own parentsâ, you lived them, you did, these people were so nice thiugh, they were odd, maybe a little quirky, but still jsut a perfect little family. Apparently one that includes you.
âALRIGHT! time for bed!â The yellow haired man exclaimed, seeeping you and eri right off of your feet, holding you in his arms as eri giggled at the sudden swish sound. The two men on the other side of the large room cracked small smiles at the sheer adorable ness of the position, the two little ones of the family and their father! What a sight to see!
âShhhhh, I think y/n is gonna sleep with us to Tonight okay eri?â Hizashi whispered to the young girl, loud enough for you to hear, she nodded and smiled one of her sickeningly sweet smiles, hr eyebrows raising before her button eyes. She motioned to be put down â, waving goodbye and latching her own hand onto shinsos, who also waved his hand.
âGoodnight daddy! And y/n!â From there, you walked alongside them to their room, or what you supposed it was. This was the first time youâd really talked to Aizawa, and it was pretty embarrassing because he asked if he was aloud to change you out of your day clothes. You were a little too scared to say no, so you let him, it was probably one of the hardest things youâve ever had to sit through, and thatâs saying quite A lot.
When all was done, you had brushed your teeth, and wrrrnchanged into a set of lilac pajamas, silken and slippery, you were pulled on top of the yellow haired man, who then wrapped his arms around your waist and started âshh-ingâ you, patting your head while rocking back and forth slightly, the other man slipped in next splaying his arms over you, rubbing circles into your beck
Mans with that, the lights went out, and you fell asleep.
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
From there, everything in your life changes, you wake up the next day in the dusty lilac bed, wondering if it all was a dream, so the next night, you go back, and the next, and the next, until you started to spend your days there. Playing with eri, or cuddling with either of the three men, or just having fun without any worries or cares int the world. By thatâs when it all starts, they kindof... changed.
They became overprotective, it showed in some more than others, but it was present either way. Al you wanted to do was check up on your dad to see if he was still alive or not, and eri had a whole crying fit, begging you to stay, and telling you sheâd die if you left.
âNo no! You canât leave me! I-I Iâm gonna die if you leave! Iâll die, please donât keVe I promise il be good!â
It took a little shushing from you, but eventually you convinced her you werenât going to leave, and so she went back to her normal self. You were with shinso once, and walked near the little door, he had immediately blocked it as if you were going to do something, then scolded you for going near such a âdangerous objectâ.
âYou shouldnât. Go close to that evil little thing, it might hurt you m, I donât want you to get hurt, so stay away from itâ
And then your other parents, they didnât let you do anything by yourself, scared you would run off and get lost in the maze of nothing outside. You canât even mention your real parents, youâve been down here for at least a week now and havenât been able to check on them, so when you did ask to go back for a day, hizashi slicks dying up and told you to cut out the nonsense, while Aizawa bubbles in anger, telling you that they lived you ten times better than your parents Eve could.
âThey donât deserve you, they donât love you, we do, theyâll never live you half as much as we do, we can protect you here, why would you wnat to leave?â
Ans so one day, when your âother papaâ or Aizawa, tried to take the key from you and lick you in here, you had enough. These people were supposed to be perfect, instead they turned obsessive, little button eyes showing up everywhere, watching your every move, you had thought your old life was a prison, now look at this.
You turned back, checking to see if anyone was watching, waiting to stop you, before pulling the key out of your pocket, ripping the boarding off of the door, pulling the panels of wood off one by one, shoving the key into the black door knob, you were just about to turn it, when a voice rang out behind you, no longer was the sweet girl who you played trains with, in the stead was something else just In ther body, you could hear it in her voice.
âWhere are you going? You arenât trying to leave are you?â She spoke, you froze on the spot, hands moving faster, ymtrying to get the stupid door to unlock, before you could even blink, the key snapped in half, not in your hold, in another sudden figure, your other brother. You didnât even get the chance to speak before be t down and ripped the whole door knob off of it, giving you a knowing glance.
âI told you to stay away from it, I told you didnât I? Now look, itâs brokenâ he hissed, throwing the iron knob somewhere else, you knew that Iâd both of the siblings were here, the two parents were sure to be here along with them, you were proven right, as a pair of black and yellow buttons popped up behind the Eric girl, carrryijg... what is that?
âOh my god... OH MY GODâ you screamed, the heads of your parents were in these menâs holds buttons sewn over the eyes, blood seeping out of their decapiated necks, you reMiedn screaming as the heads were discarded, jsut thrown off somewhere else. You were lifted up off the ground in your crying state, hizashi a hands stroked your hair, while his other hand went and wrapped around your butt to support you up.
âWe told you baby, we tried to tel you at least. Now thereâs nothing up there for you, there was never anything anyways, your safe now... theyâll never hurt you again. Youâre ours...
Foreverâ
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Tell me if you liked it, I can change things if you want:)
#coraline au#yandere erasermic#yandere erasermic family#buttons#tiny door#lock and key#shinsou hitoshi#shinso#erasermic#daddy erasermic#eri#yandere present mic#yandere Aizawa#yandere shinso#yandere eri
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hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailerđŚ
oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.
summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.
word count: 4.2k
relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew
content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.
masterlist
my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, Iâve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.
usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe itâs something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesnât feel like cooperating. it doesnât help that I have about an hour before Iâm scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.
I havenât seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasnât been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, itâs like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?
to be completely honest, I donât really want to do any of that. Iâm sure theyâre all very nice people and weâd have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that Iâm really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.
thereâs no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.
when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. itâd be overwhelming for anyone who isnât used to it.
âY/N!â Matthewâs voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. heâs leaning out of the side of a golf cart that heâs driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.
he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.
âyou look great! how are you?â as usual, heâs talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. heâs always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, heâs got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and thereâs some stubble growing on his face thatâs new. he looks older, more mature.
kind of sexy.
âIâm really well. cool ride youâve got.â I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.
âyou wanna know a secret?â he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. âIâm not supposed to drive that.â
âhowâd you get it?â I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but Iâm sure thereâs a funny story behind it as well. heâs full of weird anecdotes.
âone of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.â he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process whatâs happening, heâs swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.
âIâve been meaning to call you,â he practically yells over the sound of the motor. âbut I know youâve been busy.â
âyeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.â
âyouâre downtown, then?â he glances over with a smile and then weâre slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.
âfor right now, yeah.â I canât help the smile. itâs been a while since Iâve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthewâs independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.
âso, what Iâm hearing is that youâre now legally bound to hang out with me.â he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. âI have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.â
âoh, I could have come later. Iâm sorry.â I turn to apologize, but heâs quick to wave it off.
âitâs fine. as long as you donât mind spending an hour in here, it shouldnât be too torturous.â
I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that heâs collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.
âwow.â I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that itâs a bit cluttered.
âsorry about the mess. I havenât really had time to clean up.â
âno, no, I meant âwowâ in a good way.â I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.
âtell me about this job, then.â he immediately starts. I shrug.
âitâs nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.â
âthatâs amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?â
I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I donât think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.
âI wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.â I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.
âthatâs too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.â
âI donât think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.â
âsour sports.â he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.
âhow about you? any new masterpieces?â
we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they arenât from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and Iâm still me.
he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and itâs admirable.
once heâs gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.
my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I donât know if Iâm still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.
there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where weâd be about to say goodnight or moments where heâd fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where Iâd look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and heâs arguably one of my best friends. distance hasnât changed that. there are things I would tell him that I havenât told my other friends.
and when heâd brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.
and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, thatâs all I want.
thereâs a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it wonât take me long; I can feel how wet Iâm getting and I havenât even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.
as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine theyâre his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, itâll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.
I imagine Matthew coming in here after heâs done and kissing me like heâs wasted enough time waiting; like he canât wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.
âMatthew...â I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what Iâm doing is wrong. I shouldnât be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when heâs coming back soon.
but itâs hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.
âo-oh my god,â I hum. âMatthew--â
the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he canât seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that Iâve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.
âoh my god.â I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this canât be real. ây-you werenât supposed to be back for an hour.â I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.
âwe, uh, wrapped early.â he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. âI promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--â
âno, itâs fine.â I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesnât seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. âsorry, I know I shouldnât have done that.â
âI wonder what youâd have done with an actual hour.â he says it like heâs attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldnât have said that. âsorry, bad joke. Iâm just-- surprised.â
âMatthew, Iâm so sorry--â I start. thereâs literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like Iâve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.
âwere you saying my name?â he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.
âwell, the thing is--â I take a deep breath. âI donât normally, um... do that in peopleâs trailers?â my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that Iâm fully clothed, he doesnât seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.
he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.
âI donât wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that thereâs a reason why I was doing it in here and Iâm not some freak who, like, contaminates peopleâs space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now Iâm justifying it, which is even worse--â
âhey, Y/N, relax.â Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, heâs got a small smile on his face. âIâm not mad or anything.â
âokay.â I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.
âyou were moaning my name, though, right?â he smirks. my eyes widen.
âdonât get too cocky,â I try to play it off. âI havenât been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.â
âlooks like it did.â he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?
âwhatever.â I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.
âare you still... frustrated?â he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.
âwhy?â
âI can help you out. only if you want to, of course.â he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure Iâm not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.
âlike...â I think about his hands, about what heâs offering. itâs heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesnât have to be; weâre adults. our friendship wouldnât be shattered by one encounter.
âlike Iâll eat you out right now and fuck you until you canât take it anymore.â weâve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldnât hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that weâve already passed the point of no return. thereâs no use in holding back anymore.
âmhmm.â I nod. if I say anything more, Iâll reveal more than he wants to know. that Iâve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.
âcome here, then.â he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. heâs greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like heâs trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that heâs seen so many times but has never touched.
weâre hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when itâs in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.
âsit on my face.â he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.
âtake off your clothes first.â I tell him.
âyou wanna see me naked?â he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.
âyeah, I wanna see you naked.â I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then weâre both there, looking at each other.
âcâmere, beautiful.â he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. âperfect.â
Iâm about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.
I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness thatâs gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks heâs leaving in my thighs tell me heâs loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.
he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I canât believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.
âMatthew, please--â I gasp. âdonât stop.â
he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. Iâm needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he canât get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.
âoh my godââ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. âitâs so fucking good.â
he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until Iâm swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthewâs grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.
âsuch a wet little pussy.â he tells me, licking his lips. Iâm pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so Iâm laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.
I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection heâs pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.
âyouâre good.â I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.
âI just think about it a lot.â the response is simple, but itâs the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.
âshit.â he moans, jaw dropping once heâs reaching the hilt. âgive it to me, baby.â I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.
I donât speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isnât until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.
âharder.â I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.
âis this what you were thinking about?â he breathes out. âme fucking you like a slut?â
I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.
âtell me who you belong to, little slut.â his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.
âyou.â I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.
âlouder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.â he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like heâs absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.
ây-you-- fuck!â
âcâmon, baby.â he pants. weâre definitely rocking this trailer with the way heâs ramming my body right now. I can feel him like heâs in my ribs. Â
âMatthew, oh god--â
âshow me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.â the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. Iâm trying to breathe but itâs so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesnât go easy on me.
âIâm cumming.â my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like itâs trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.
âcan I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?â he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. weâre filthy together and itâs otherworldly. âgood girl.â
he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. Iâm writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, heâs lovely when heâs orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.
when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.
âthat help?â he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. âIâm joking. are you okay?â
âmore than okay.â I smile. he doesnât say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.
âyouâre really beautiful, you know that?â
âthanks.â as if this man hasnât already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.
âdo you want some water?â heâs worried about giving me space. thereâs a question lingering between us that Iâm afraid to ask, especially now that he hasnât. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.
âuh, sure.â if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. Iâll need to clean up soon.
âso...â his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.
âso.â
âdinner? and then breakfast?â he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasnât mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.
âyou think youâre getting this again?â I try to act nonchalant, as if Iâm not already imagining it.
âoh, wait--â he frowns, hesitates. âthatâs not what I meant.â
âwhat did you mean?â thereâs a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess weâre about to answer that question after all.
âI wanna finally take you on a date.â he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I donât even hesitate to answer.
âIâm in.â
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Birthdays In Camelot
Sooooooooo three of my very good and very dear friends had their birthday and I wanted to do something for them. I know this isnât much, but 1. I am dead inside and school continues to kill me, and 2. âŚyeah. Iâm dead inside. I just wanted to dedicate a little something to you three amazing beautiful perfect angels because you guys are some of the best people ever and youâre always so kind and nice to me. I wanted to return the favor somehow someway. I probablyyyy shouldâve made three separate ones for each of you, but I have multiple papers to finish up for next week. Iâll try and do better next time, but for now this is all I have.
So!!! in the spirit of @gayfirebender @thatone-nerdygirl and @junemo10 , this is for you.
Birthdays:
Birthdays are a big thing for Merlin. When he was in Ealdor, he and his mother didnât really have enough money to celebrate in a big way.
It was usually a slightly better porridge or a new tunic if they were REALLY lucky.
So when Merlin started earning his wages, he immediately looked for the best present he could ever get his mother and then he one upped it the next year
It started out with a delicious meal stolen from the royal cook herself and worked itâs way up to a dress that looked simple enough for a peasant but felt like it was made for a queen
Having ties to Arthur sure helped that out
SO! because of Merlinâs love for birthdays, you know he goes all out for all his friends
It makes Percival so. soft. whenever Merlin skips to him on his birthday and gives him a present
His favorite, by far, is when Merlin gave him an amazing little tree that he takes care off very well. (Itâs a magical bonzai.)
Elyan is excited for his birthday cause Merlin gave him the best gifts. His favorite is definitely the new armor design that Merlin drew up based on different knights from different kingdoms. Elyan made it and uses it for himself and himself only.
Leon was very surprised to get a gift from Merlin. It was long long ago when Arthur was still prince and they barely spoke at all.
He was surprised to catch him in his room- setting down a basket full of large bottles.
Merlin was a blushing embarrassed mess at being caught. He and Leon had never had a proper conversation since before that.
He stuttered his way to explain that he knew Leon was constantly aching from past battle wounds, so he made large batches of Gaiusâ special salves and potions for Leon to use. That is objectively the best gift Merlin ever got for him because of the memory that came with it.
However, Merlin setting him up on a date with George will soon be the best one yet.
Gwen is a pouty baby because âMerlin! You didnât have to get me anything! Iâm already happy with our friendship.â
She accepts the gifts anyway. Her favorite is definitely the specially made and designed family seal that is dedicated to her father. She cried so much and keeps it with her all the time
Gwaine. Ohhhhh Gwaine. His gifts started out fun, you know? A pint of mead, Finally being able to take Merlin out for a pint, A fully paid night of drinking. Those sort of stuff
But then Merlin goes and starts writing him all these long ass letters. All these letters that talk about how much Merlin appreciates him and how great of a person he is
And Gwaine never fails to ugly cry on those letters. He keeps them all in a special box- it remains his most prized possession.
Lancelot counted himself lucky. With Magic now an available option, Merlin gave Lancelot the best of the best presents from day one of their friendship.
His absolute favorite present, however, is the magichand made knightâs armor, outfit, and sword that Merlin made for him after becoming a knight. It was enchanted too because obviously
Gaius, like Lancelot, got some of the best gifts ever with the help of magic.
Merlin gave him tons of very exotic and new herbs and plants to work with. Heâd summon them from a land far away just for Gaius and then plant them somewhere, so heâd have more.
But the best one by far is the new equipment Merlin got for him. Each and everyone had words painted or etched onto it: âBest Father Figureâ âBest Physcianâ âBest Mentorâ. It was nice little reminders that touched Gaiusâ heart constantly
Before Morgana left, Merlinâs gift to her were not at all the exquisite gifts that she normally got. No, it was much much better.
Merlin always gave her a peasantâs dress and snuck her out to explore the lower town with him. Theyâd buy little random trinkets and food and then go out to play and eat in a forest clearing far away from the tyranny and the hate and the duties of royalty.
She didnât realize until later on that those were the best presents because Merlin always took her to a place where magic was most alive and beautiful and calming and thriving.
Arthurâs birthday was always a tricky one for Merlin. This was his other half and the man he was kinda a little bit very in love with- it had to be perfect.
But in the end, it didnât really take much thinking at all. This was his other half and the man he was very much in love after all.
Arthur would never be able to decide what his favorite gift from Merlin was. Anything that man gave him, he absolutely loved with all his heart
He didnât know if it was the refurbished painting of his mother or the tiny farm that was set up for the both of them when they needed a break or maybe all the necklaces and letters and bracelets and tunics Merlin crafted especially for him.
He does know which one he takes especially good care of- even more so than his farm and painting. The most precious gift Merlin has ever given him: His magical heart.
And so obviously, Merlin had to have the best birthday of them all. While everyone got him nice gifts too, they had to give him the best one after a very stressful and bumpy magic and love revealing year.
Normally, it wouldâve been a feast. Arthur knew that was definitely not the case. This was Merlin- he wanted it small and intimate.
They set up the nice round table dinner with just their group of friends.
Merlin was already crying when they brought them there.
After eating, theyâd all give their gifts to him one by one. Just seeing his friends line up made Merlin cry with appreciation again. Arthur made him sit on the throne for this one.
Percival grinned wide as he gave Merlin pots of the most beautiful flowers and herbs that would typically be needed in potion making.
Elyan was practically bouncing off the walls as he presented a staff he made alongside the druids.
Gwen had to shove Elyan out of the way to present the very special hand made outfits she made for him- fit for royalty.
Leon smiled and chuckled as he gave him the exact same potions and salves Merlin gave to him that first time because now he knew that Merlin needed it too.
Gwaine smirked and stuck his tongue out as he went out and brought back Hunith with him. While they were greeting each other, he slipped his very long and more tear-inducing letter with the rest of Merlinâs gift.
Gaius smiled as he gave Merlin a key. A key to his new magical workshop that Gaius and his very bad back worked on. Later on, Merlin would cry in there as he read all the labels Gaius put everywhere: âBest Sonâ âBest Warlockâ âBest Studentâ âMy Best Merlin.â
Arthur was nervous ash he walked up to Merlin. He tried to speak three times before sighing in defeat. He handed him a scroll that officially declared the magic ban lifted.
Merlin was sobbing at that point. He didnât know how it could get any better really.
Except that Morgana burst in with a gust of wind in a true dramatic fashion.
Everyone was on defense immediately as they turned to face her.
They all let out different gasps and choked sobs when they were not faced with a wild haired all black outfit Morgana, but with a Morgana in a peasant dress, a basket in hand full of knickknacks and food, and tears in her eyes.
Later on in the night when Merlin slipped into Arthurâs arms, he got his final greatest present.
Ygraineâs ring and four words.
âWill you marry me?â
#merlin#bbc merlin#merlin bbc#the knights of the round table#merlin headcanons#happy birthday abba dabba#i hope i did well#and as good as you#i'm love youuuu#happy birthday preciousss~#I know it's not much and i'm sorryyy#i'll try and do better#i still love youuuuuuuuu very very much#pin a pan on a pen of puns#happy birthdayyyyyyyyy#actually...#remember that compilation i sent you that very first time?#but...#i was just so impatienttttt#i needed to tell and show you immediately#so-#now i have this#BUT I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU#you're the greatest love#very funny#you're very funny and always make me laugh#thank youuu pinapanonapenofpuns#also it's Bradley's birthday#happy birthday to him too i guess đđ
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26, 29, 33, 34 for felix and ava c:
26. Guilty Pleasure:
Bold of you to assume they would feel guilty about pleasure uwu
29. What was childhood like?
Felix had a normal-ish family until age 7, military dad, very strict, took care of everything, spoon-fed military propaganda. After 7 and his father's death it was basically unstable mother he had to take care of, running small deliveries for 6th street and basically being brainwashed taken care by them.
Ava had the usual corpo childhood, good home, good school, unattached parents who only took an interest to her when she fucked up, which she did a lot, school "fights" (as in her attacking another kid, unprovoked), throwing heavy stuff out of windows, tormenting her younger brother and anyone that worked for the family... Reprimanded only enough that she learned how to not get caught.
33. How have they changed over time?
Felix spent 20 something years of his life just taking what people told him without question, when he leaves that environment it's uhm... a lot... finally doing/saying things he actually believes in and not getting kicked for it? sometimes even getting praised??? brought out a lot of rage. Now he's old and tired or so he says, will still fuck you up any day of the week, but mostly just wants to chill.
Ava changed nothing, unless you count doing things hidden or not a change, could say she's happier I guess? More likely to be covered in blood?
34. Whatâs their room look like right now?
Felix: Dimly lit, smells like cigarettes and alcohol, half of the bed is taken by random stuff, magazines I wouldn't recommend you touched, vinyls, a metal bat with spikes, headboard is a shelf filled with small trinkets and trash (snack wrappers, take-out boxes...) a lot of plants most of it dead, spiders and webs wherever you look, blood stain on the mattress that he doesnât remember how it got there, ground has clothes thrown around and a few empty bottles in the corner, us cracks is faintly playing from somewhere you can't pin point it.
Ava: wouldn't really call it a room, just an old dirty mattress thrown on a corner in an abandoned factory wraiths took over, they probably will move soon so no real reasons to make it anything more than that, there's some candles close to it, some incoherent things scratched on the wall, a jar full of ears, small bones, everything has at least a little blood on it.
#bshsusjwbuajwhsuheevuwwvaybw i had to end Felixâs room with us cracks hehehehehehehhe#god its a shame they'll never meet id like to see these two together#felix vega#ava f. bird#ask game
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Donât hate me but⌠I kinda want you to answer all of the deep dive WIP asks 𼺠if thatâs unreasonable tho, just 2, 9, and 10 please!
I am SORRY for the delay!!! i answered every question for BOTH projects so you're in for like.... several thousand words of shit that makes absolutely no sense, but i hope you you enjoy it! :)
1. Who are two characters that don't like each other? What do they reveal about each other to the readers? Will they ever learn to put aside their differences?
White Crane: okay this is hard because like. so many people do not like each other. (I know I made a post once about how terrible it would be to be one of twenty-eight people that have the power of dead gods but are trapped in stupid human bodies and you're all a thousand years old and hate each other so so so so so much because you all SUCK.) But for the sake of simplicity, I will talk about Ciaran and Sihla who never got along but only played nice to keep Anwei happy. They absolutely do NOT put aside their differences lmao once everything kind of, um, blows up between the three of them, all they want to do is KILL each other. She makes it her life's goal to make him suffer, and he basically loses his sanity in the process of trying to find a way to kill her for good. The beef is unbelievable. ANYWAY, what they reveal about each other is that Ciaran is not nearly as innocent in anything as he likes to pretend and Sihla is not as guilty as everyone says she is. I mean, she is still a terrible person in many ways, but that does not excuse the things he did to her all those years ago. She hates him for many, many good reasons.
Old Blood: Andhira HATES the entire Ekion family, but specifically the oldest son (who does not have an official name yet.... oops). He doesn't much care for her either but is usually too busy trying to better his social standing to worry too much about her. Except when they're in the same room together (which happens semi-regularly because her brother is kind of in love with him lmao). They hate each other for the exact same reason and it's that they're both SO arrogant. They look down on everyone around them (which in Andhira's case is like. fair. She's the firstborn of the two most powerful people on the planet, and the only person that comes close to that level of power is her twin brother who was born a mere fourteen minutes after her) but think the other is completely unjustified in their actions. Really all it reveals to a reader is that they both kind of suck and need to get over themselves because all that behavior does is make people resent you. They only put aside their differences because she does kind of need his help once or twice, but they would gladly spit in each other's face and/or push each other down a flight of stairs in the name of pettiness.
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2. What do you hope your readers will take away from your wip? Is there an intentional theme to the story?
These can be answered together! I started writing these stories because I wanted to have fun but they've both kind of morphed into a long-winded way of saying that like. it's okay to be messed up and hate yourself and have major internal struggles because there are people who still love you. I KNOW it doesn't sound like that from uhhhhhh literally everything I've ever said about this stuff but bear with me. The BIG theme is that love is EVERYTHING. All kinds of love. It's the reason to keep on going. You are never alone, even strangers can love you in their own way, etc etc etc etc. Also gay love fucking prevails always and forever.
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3. What do you love most about your protagonist?
Yixing is funny and weird and definitely a horse girl and he kind of sucks sometimes because he's stubborn as hell and has terrible people skills and maybe also a drinking problem, but he is kind and empathetic and despite the absolute hell he's lived through, he still sees the good in people and knows that it's easy to make mistakes and that most people deserve second chances in life. Also I like him because he is without a doubt the ideal man and I made him that way on purpose. And god I wish we could drink together. I'm talking stumbling drunk, crying on the bathroom floor, please-hold-my-hair-i'm-about-to-throw-up kind of drinking. We would have a great time being stupid together I think.
Vera is resilient and mean and stubborn and cold and off-putting and hard to get to know, and she sucks for those reasons but it's also why I love her so much. She has also lived through hell and it didn't make her try to see the good in people like Yixing does. It just made her bitter and resentful. She warms up over time, but she fights tooth and nail against it. I also love her so much because she is the archetype of like. the washed up former prodigy that has to return sort of against her will to her old life, and she realizes that she misses it in some ways but also remembers exactly why she left. I would Not want to drink with her (because she doesn't drink anymore), but I would love to take one of her art classes.
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4. Is there anything in the story that is implied but not directly stated? Will this become more relevant later on? How perceptive would a reader have to be to pick up on this?
White Crane: This is hard because I'm so invested in my own shit that it feels obvious to me, but I try to lay out a little candy trail that tells the reader that Ciaran and Anwei are Not What They Seem right from the start. Itâs hard to explain without specific examples but itâs in the way they talk, they way they interact with other people, the way certain things they say donât line up, etc etc etc. And there is a Big Hint of what will happen to Ciaran in the second and third installment, but idk if that counts. Also there are definitely implications that Yixing is trans but that's neither here nor there (honestly Iâve gone back and forth on whether or not he should be explicitly trans or if it should be left to reader interpretation because well... I donât know if I'm capable of writing the nuance of transness because I'm not trans despite my complex and confusing relationship with gender but I'm also not a thirty-something year old Asian man NOR am I a god NOR am I a former vampire hunter NOR am I like. any of the things I write about other than a mean lesbian so. who knows?)
Old Blood: TRUE FANS already know this one, but regular degular readers that haven't participated in funny question friday or read my random late night posting would not immediately know that Josef and the Sovereign were once involved. Basically the only characters in the story that know are Josef, Luka, the Sovereign himself, and Tahire. But there are definitely some hints peppered throughout conversations and perhaps some photos and trinkets that Josef has kept after all this time... It has like no weight on the events of the story but I just think it's fun. Once again I am way too invested to know if it's easy to pick up on or not but I think it takes some theorizing about maybe? Other than that there arenât any significant secrets.
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5. Which character has the most intricate backstory? Is this backstory common knowledge from the start, or is it revealed later on? How does the backstory affect the narrative?
White Crane: this is unfair because some of the characters are almost a thousand years old and some of them are like. 35. I DO have a full timeline written out of the thousand years of history that Ciaran and Anwei have lived through, if that counts as an answer. Like it doesn't have every single day and year, but it has all the big events for sure. Barring that, Yixing definitely has a pretty complex backstory. The man gets around lol and I try (and maybe fail?) to make him seem not too complex initially but then things get revealed and you learn more about him and are like âoh my god no wonder this man has Problems.â Also if he was like. ânormalâ and perhaps âwell-adjustedâ the story would not exist at all because he is the way he is and makes some of the stupid decisions he does because of his weird little life.
Old Blood: ONCE AGAIN, this is unfair because the Sovereign is like older than god. And Vera is 37. But like. I haven't fleshed him or any of the old ass vampires out nearly as much as Vera so there's your answer I guess? And I guess the important things are known from the start (that she was a prodigy, that she retired because terrible shit happened and she couldn't handle it, that she suffers from significant ptsd because of it, etc), but there is a lot of detail that doesn't come out until much later when she has to confront her Feelings (ewww feelings). Uh... the backstory affects the narrative because it wouldn't exist at all if Vera wasn't plagued by her fucked up blood nightmares lol
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6. Which two characters have the most complicated relationship? How does their relationship develop over time?
White Crane: Ciaran and Anwei totally. They love each other because they're brother and sister and were all the other had for a VERY long time (and even when they were still uh mortal, they relied on each other constantly), but also they hate each other because they're brother and sister. You know how it is with siblings. I love my brother and sister to pieces but I can't imagine being immortal and having to put up with the both of them for all eternity (sorry guys if you are reading this somehow.... I love you but we are all so annoying god bless). They handled their newfound godhood very, very, very differently and it kind of colors their relationship for the rest of time. There were times where they were extremely codependent and other times where they didn't speak to each other for DECADES. At the start of our story, they're on much better terms and have buried all their hatchets, but it doesn't take much for that to change....
Old Blood: Probably Vera and Andhira? They're only brought together because of their shared fucked up blood nightmares, and neither of them like that thought. They both resent the other for everything they are, and Vera is pretty much completely hostile to Andhira about it for a long time (and Andhira is only just barely cordial lol), but obviously a significant part of the plot revolves around them like. falling in love so they DO get over it after a while :)
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7. What is the most heart-wrenching scene in your wip? Why?
White Crane: When Yixing fucking DIES. I feel like this one should be self-explanatory. But I mean if you would like further explanation, it's unpleasant and slow and agonizing and nobody can do anything to stop it (haha....... unless?) so Ciaran gets to hold him for a long time and feel really bad about it lol
Old Blood: idk if there are any really heart-wrenching scenes but there are definitely some miserable and uncomfortable scenes like where Vera relives in vivid detail the days that she witnessed the gruesome deaths of her young apprentice and her last lover. They're upsetting because those are the two days that basically ruined her life (and one was the final straw that sent her spiraling completely out of control) and it's painful to watch her have to live with the guilt of what happened even if it wasn't her fault.
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8. What is a song that you associate with your wip? Explain.
White Crane: not to be basic but absolutely without a doubt in my stupid mind âEverybody Wants to Rule the Worldâ by Tears for Fears lol it's because uh. well. Everybody wants to rule the world right? Basically way back in 2019 when I was crafting the ideas for the dnd campaign that became this thing instead, I was definitely having a metal gear moment (honestly Iâm about to have a metal gear moment NOW lol) and was listening to a lot of like. mgs adjacent music and latched onto this song (and also promises, promises by naked eyes lmao) as some like thematic element. Like my brain making amvs. You know how it is. ANYWAY the point is. The concept was originally way different and was supposed to be more about the immediate aftermath of the so-called end of the world (yes Yixing was still there and yes he was still just some guy), and it focused a lot more on power struggles between all of these insane people that were granted godhood in the wake of the dying world. Which........ is something I'd like to write about at some point because it's intriguing in its own way but at the time I was unequipped to write about that when I really just wanted to write about people who are, for all intents and purposes, quite average getting caught up in the batshit drama of higher powers. (fun fact: Ciaran was supposed to be a tyrant king that ran a death cult and Anwei and Yixing were working together to figure out a way to kill him. Which is. Kind of what my dnd campaign is like now lol BASICALLY he's like if Big Boss was unkillable and could also rip souls out of people's bodies and eat them. I absolutely do not remember what this question originally was. Something about a song?)
Old Blood: THIS is the reason it took me so long to answer this whole thing. I thought long and hard and looked through all my playlists and listened to random songs that came to mind but it turns out the song I was looking for was right in front of me the whole time. DUH. It's âGolden Lightâ by Twin Shadow :) In my humble homo interpretation, I think it's a song about being afraid to fall in love and. Well. That's the whole point. Also #spoilers but the first time Vera sees Andhira and is like âoops I think I have feelingsâ is when they've just arrived at Andhira's home and the sun is rising and she looks over at her as they stand at the top of a hill and she has her eyes closed to the sun and she's bathed in golden light and OOUGGGGHGHHH poetic cinema. (honorable mention goes to âGroove is in the Heartâ by Deee-lite because itâs quintessential early 90s music that Vera would be super into)
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9. What does your protagonist want most? What would they do to achieve this? What is something they wouldn't do to achieve this?
White Crane: Yixing wants to be happy for once. Like actually really happy instead of just. getting by. There's a scene where they're making wishes for the next seasons during the summer solstice and someone asks what he wants and he's like âuh I guess I want to still be alive at the end of the year?â and the other person is like âisn't that what everyone wants? Raise the fucking bar please. What do you REALLY want?â and he's stands there for a really long time and thinks about it before finally saying âI think I just want to be happy for onceâ and everyone else is like. wow. Way to kill the fucking mood dude. Anyway. He has had fleeting moments of happiness in his life but wants nothing more than to feel that way forever. It's kind of hard to say what he wouldn't do for that because like. there's not really much you CAN do in the first place, so I feel like there's even less you couldn't do. I guess he wouldn't like sell his soul to the devil or something lmao (though by being involved with Ciaran he's pretty much halfway there)
Old Blood: to be left alone. Vera just wants a normal life. She really truly does want to pretend that none of the horrible shit happened to her and that she was never a world-famous hunter. And she wants to teach art classes and live a quiet life!!! I mean, she is already mostly doing that exact thing when we first meet her, but obviously she has some hindrances (aka fucked up blood nightmares). She is begrudgingly helping Andhira because she assumes that will fix her problem and that she'll be able to get to that quiet living as soon as all is said and done. The only thing she really wouldn't do to get what she wants is like... live somewhere far away from Josef and Luka lol She likes having them close by more than she wants to be left alone.
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10. Within your story's world, were there any events that impacted every character (or most characters)? How would they be different if this event never happened? (Alternatively, erase an important even from on character's backstory and imagine where they'd be now.)
White Crane: well. If the stupid old gods didn't all kill themselves and almost end the world then I guess none of this story would exist lol But the actual answer is like. If Yixing had never run out on his girlfriend of ten years then he wouldn't have moved across the continent to Jengmi and wouldn't have made a name for himself way out there and wouldn't have been scouted and recruited and wouldn't have met Ciaran or Anwei and wouldn't have gotten in the middle of the batshit grudge between a bunch of ancient petty gay people and wouldn't have DIED and wouldn't have made one of the ancient petty gay people in particular lose his grip on his humanity via a lust for power in a desperate attempt to guarantee his safety and wouldn't have been the reason that tens of thousands of people die in his name and wouldn't have accidentally set off a chain of events that resulted in him having to hunt down and kill the Actual God that started it all in a fit of jealous rage. So like. maybe he should have just gone through with the wedding. All things considered, his life would have been way less stressful.
Old Blood: uhhh, that's tough because the stuff that happens only really has any effect on the mortal characters (I mean yeah people still try to kill the Sovereign but they're too dumb to know the ACTUAL way to kill him.... haha unless??), so it would be more like a what if Vera didn't witness the violent deaths of both her apprentice and her lover and have a full blown nervous breakdown and abandon her career? Well...... I think most things in the plot would transpire more or less the same, except she would be WAY less pissed off about it. In fact, she would probably be hyped as hell to get the chance to make the acquaintance of the Sovereign's family like Josef had before her. The thought of Vera being upbeat and not a sleep-deprived asshole that hates being dragged back to her old life..... ew. Not that I enjoy her suffering but you know what I mean. It just wouldn't be the same.
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11. What is something from your wip that you just really want to ramble about?
Are you sure you're ready for this. This is going to be so so so so long I'm sorry in advance. It's Saturday night and I'm alone and kind of sad so I'm just going to let loose.
As I hone down plot elements for next two installments in my little trilogy, I have kind of become obsessed with the passage of time and how different it must feel to someone that, well, lives forever. One of the ways I'd written (that has since been kind of changed) for Yixing to start to figure out what Ciaran really is was that he would casually be looking through his bookshelf and find an old photograph of Ciaran, Anwei, and their mom standing backstage together after one of his performances. And when he eventually asks Ciaran about it, he gets upset because how dare you touch the one thing I have left to remember my mother? To remember what my life used to be like? There are so many names and faces and places and foods and sensations that I've forgotten in the 940 years I've lived like this and I would give anything I have to see any of it just one more time because I didn't know that the last time I would ever speak to my mom we would have an argument on the phone about how I need to go to the temple and pray for good fortune on my birthday, or that the last time I would ever see my best friend would be at 6am when we both came into the studio to practice and he asked me to go out to breakfast and I said no because I thought a nap would be more important. And there are so many people that I've watched die whose names I never learned and whose faces I forgot the moment I turned away, and there are so many others that I loved so dearly that I had to leave behind because they grew old and I didn't. And I have lived lifetimes in solitude to keep myself a secret from other people and I have died more than any person should ever have to die and I have witnessed atrocities no one should ever witness and I hate everything about this life so much but I love everything about this life so much and I wouldnât trade it for anything but I think I would give it all away in an instant if only to remember the scent of my mother's favorite perfume and I think I would give it all away in an instant if it meant I didn't have to watch you turn to dust in my arms.
ANYWAY. I think a lot about the agony of loving things that aren't permanent and how it really DOES drive you mad because lately I have been unbelievably nostalgic for certain things that weren't even that long ago but..... I didn't appreciate them at the time and I feel so guilty about it. (And like. I too would give up my entire life to be able to remember the scent of my grandmother's favorite perfume.) And all my pent-up sadness is for things that only happened in my childhood. I have pictures and videos and other people to share those memories with, but what does it feel like to be one of very few people that watched the entire world fall apart and rebuild itself and have nothing to hold onto from that time? What does it feel like to foster dozens of generations of children and outlive every single one of them? What does it feel like to have only fragments of memories of entire lifetimes? How lonely is it? I mean, Ciaran and Anwei have each other and that makes a difference but it still has to be the most isolating feeling. And then there's the pain that comes with memories that have faded or otherwise become hazy. I doubt either of them remember their father's face. They hadn't seen him in years even before it all happened. If it wasn't for that single photo he has, they wouldn't remember their mother's face either. Do they still remember her name? Or her birthday? Do they remember anyone else? Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, coworkers? If they do, do they even want to talk about it? One thing I worry about in my own life (and this is how I know I have Problems) is that I'm so afraid that talking about memories will alter them somehow. There are so many things that I don't even like to share because once the words are spoken the little vhs tape that has all my memories has been recorded over, even if it's just by a single frame. Something about it has been changed forever each time I talk about it. Do they feel the same way and keep things to themselves instead of sharing the sadness? I think maybe they used to talk about the âold daysâ or whatever much more often back in the past, but as the years went by.... they just learned to keep it to themselves.
I think maybe I have a lot of anxiety about the passage of time and of being forgotten!
Anyway again. The passage of time drives me insane. And I think it would make me even more insane if I had been chosen to carry the mantle of a dead god and would live forever. My dog died a year ago and I still cry like every single day thinking about her. If I was doomed to live forever I don't know how the sadness wouldn't swallow me whole! No wonder all the people in this book are fucking CRAZY!!
And don't even get me started on the Sovereign lol he's like âoh boo-hoo you've lived for not even a thousand years? Bitch they hadn't invented fucking GLASS yet when I was born. The horse wasn't domesticated yet. Cry harder!!â
#oc talk#4000 words later!!!!!#uh i hope this makes ANY sense at all lol#i wrote the responses to all of these at like 1am last night and the night before so. you'll have to forgive me if they're stupid
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Sin City | KSJ (2/?)
Pairing: Demon!Receptionist!Seokjin x Angel!Reader
Summary: After her encounter with Kim Seokjin, the reader gets ready for her date with him.
âCome on, chubs! Itâs not even that revealing!â, my annoying ass brother said for the umpteenth time causing me to peek out from my bathroom. âNot revealing?! Itâs barely at my mid-thigh! And Itâs pink!!â, I roared in annoyance. Yoongi sighed and facepalmed.
The last three hours had been spent trying on different outfits. It was my first date in years, and I was nervous as fuck. When Jin had invited me out for lunch, Iâd happily agreed and prepared for a casual lunch date somewhere in the city. Then, three days ago, he told me there was a change of plans. He wanted to take me clubbing with him and Yoongiâs friends.
Now, here I was trying to get out of wearing a bright pink mini dress with matching pumps. âLook, chubs, I know what hyung likes and that outfit is it!â, Yoongi spoke as he crossed his arms. I huffed and peeked out again. âCan I change it, at least? Make it more my style?â, I asked in a pouty tone I knew would work on him. Yoongi sighed before nodding in approval. I grinned before shoeing him out so I could finish getting dressed.
Once he was gone, I quickly exited the bathroom and opened my closet. In the very back of the closet was a single duffel that I had purposefully left unpacked. I pulled it free from the depths of the closet and opened it with an excited smirk. In the bag were multiple chains, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, chokers, and other miscellaneous accessories. I looked in the mirror and back into the bag wondering how to accessorize it. I glanced at the clock to see I had an hour and a half until it was time to leave. I stood and walked to my drawer before opening the bottom compartment. Inside were various tools and trinkets. I put on a determined face before gathering a few things and setting to work.
*TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY JKâS TINY ASS WAIST*
I smiled with heavy satisfaction as I looked over myself in my full-length mirror. There was a quiet knock on my door before the knob turned and my brother entered. âHey, itâs time to-WOAH!! You werenât kidding when you said you wanted to make it your own.â, Yoongi said while looking over my new and improved outfit.
I had turned the dress into a two-piece set by separating the top part from the skirt. Iâd quickly hemmed the raw edges by hand and added some spare elastic to both parts so that they fitted snugly. Once that I was done with that, I just picked out matching accessories: A layered chain, an ear cuff and attached earring, and a set of thigh garters. I also had decided to switch the pink pumps for pink wedge sneakers. In short, I looked amazing and felt amazing, too.
(A/N): IMAGINE IT WITH THE AFORMENTIONED ACCESSORIES!!!
Yoongi smirked and nodded approvingly whilst looking me over. âBefore, I only thought Jin hyung was gonna love it, but now⌠I know heâs gonna fall head over heels for you!â, he complimented before taking my hand a leading me out of the room and out of our apartment. Once we were in the elevator, he spoke again. âListen, this is your first time going out, so pay attention. Donât wander off alone, donât drink anything from strangers, tell me where youâre going at all times, and if someone tries to attack you, give âem hell.â, he ordered as we reached the bottom floor and stepped into the lobby.
As expected, Seokjin wasnât at his usual place behind the front desk. In his place was a blue-eyed girl with blonde hair. As we passed by, she sent us a bright smile and a cheery wave. I returned it and continued to follow behind my brother. Once we were outside, Yoongi whistled and waved a pale hand in the wind. A few seconds passed before a cab pulled over for us. Yoongi opened the door and let me in before following shortly after. After giving the driver directions and paying our fare, we set off into the dark, busy streets of Seoul.
I watched the flashing lights of the bustling city go by in a blur while attempting to ignore the growing bundle of anxiety in my tummy. A sigh from Yoongiâs direction turned me away from the window and towards him. âDonât be nervous, little one. Jin hyungâs a good guy and heâll take good care of you or else!â, he assured before reaching over nudging my cheek affectionately. I smiled and nodded before continuing to gaze out my window.
Soon enough we were standing outside of a tall, sleek building illuminated with purple neon lights that read âClub Bangtanâ. Outside the entrance was a line so long that it wrapped around the corner of the building. Yoongi chuckled at my awe-filled expression before taking my hand again and leading me straight to the door. The two bouncers, who had been lazily admitting people inside, quickly stumbled to attention at the sight of him. âEasy, boys. Listen up cause Iâm only telling you once. This girl right here can come in whenever she wants with whoever she wants with no waiting. You treat her right, too. Spread the word.â, Yoongi ordered with sternness.
The two looked me over quickly before nodding and opening the doors to the club. Once we stepped in, I was immediately blasted with music. Multicolored pulsing lights flashed wildly as throngs of people danced. There were angels, demon, and humans all in harmony as the music filled the atmosphere. A small tug from Yoongi brought me out of my stupor. I turned to see that we now were entering another elevator.
Once the doors closed, Yoongi placed his hand on a screen before typing in a few numbers. âYour turn! Gotta get you in the system.â, he informed before placing my hand on the screen. The cool glass beneath my palm vibrated before a small ding sounded. I pulled away to see the words âChoose your four-digit PIN.â on the flashing screen. âGo ahead and choose. I wonât peek!â, Yoongi said before putting his hand over his eyes. I chuckled and thought for a minute. Then, four numbers came to my mind. Although they were random, they felt right to use. I quickly typed â1992â on the keypad before hitting the enter button. The elevator made a small sound of approval before the doors slid open to reveal a large penthouse.
Yoongi took my hand and led me through the spacious living area. âHey, Yoonie. How do you have access to all this stuff?â, I asked curiously. He chuckled and answered, âThis entire block is mine, chubs! And now that youâre here, itâs yours, too!â. I stared at him in awe. He had become successful after he left. We stopped at a door painted bright red before Yoongi raised his hand and did a special knock. There was a pause before the door swung open to reveal Seokjin in all his handsome glory.
His hair was no longer blonde but a vibrant purple color. His flawless skin was cast in its usual heavenly glow. Today he had dawned an all-white suit. At the sight of us, he smirked sending chills running rampant down my spine. âYour late, Yoongles. Fashionably, I presume?â, he asked with the flick of a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. âAs always, hyung.â, he retorted.
Seokjin glanced at me and paused before looking me over. âWell hello, love. Itâs good to see that you made it.â, he said almost hungrily as he took my hand from Yoongi and pulled me into the room. Just like the door, the room was decorated in shades of red and crimson. Scattered about the area were five other men and three girls. âLISTEN UP, BOYS AND GALS! THIS ADORABLE LIL THING RIGHT HERE IS ALL MINE, SO KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELVES!!!â, Jin announced whilst pulling me into his side by my waist.
Yoongi rolled his eyes before making his away around the bar in the corner to pour himself a whiskey neat. Jin lead me to a couch and sat down before pulling me into his lap. Warmth spread throughout my cheeks at the sudden lack of space between us. âNow, honey. Letâs get to know each other.â, Jin drawled out seductively. His chocolate orbs flashed pink as they bored into mine.
âI can tell weâre going to enjoy each otherâs companyâŚâ
(A/N):
Hiii! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Iâll be updating soon cause this one was just a filler. Please like, share, reblog, and comment your thoughts and ideas!!!
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TJâs Playlist (Final Ep Anniversary Bonus)
So it's been a year since I cried to the finale because tyrus was canon, and I wanted to travel back in time to some of the happiest memories I had because of this show. I had a thing in Macaroni's POV, but it was a little lame and didn't want to finish it so I went this route instead. It's also always bothered me that this story ended on 19 chapters, and I thought this was the perfect chance to even it out with a perfect 20. If you're reading this, I love you very much and thank you for coming back (or getting here for the first time). Goodbye to TJ's Playlist for real now <3Â
Ao3 Link | Wattpad Link
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TJ ran down the hall, pushing by students who couldnât get out of his way fast enough. It was the last day of middle school, and everyone was lingering behind to say goodbye to their friends who might go to a different high school. TJ had been doing the same before remembering he had promised Cyrus he would meet him up front.
Cyrus was standing with Buffy and Marty, laughing at something one of them said when TJ caught up. âHi,â TJ told him, bending over to catch his breath. âSorry Iâm late. I forgot how fast time can go.â
âItâs fine.â Cyrus smiled. âI wasnât going to leave without you.â Cyrus reached over to hold TJâs hand, making him smile.
Buffy said to Cyrus with a grin, âSo yard sale?â Cyrusâs neighborhood had a large yard sale once a year, and they chose the last day of school to do it. Cyrusâ parents invited all of them to take their things to sell.
âYes! Come by with anything you want to get rid of,â Cyrus replied. âIâm so excited. It feels like a cleanse and the first step into high school.â
âCanât wait,â Buffy said. âIâm going to stop by home first for my stuff, pick up Andi, and meet you guys there.â
âSounds like a plan,â Cyrus said and gave her a thumbs up. They said bye to Marty and Buffy who walked off holding hands, leaving TJ with his boyfriend. Cyrus turned to look at him and asked, âSo. Did you think about it?â
TJ bit at the inside of his cheek for a moment. âI did.â
âAnd?â
âI think Iâm going to sell them.â
Cyrus jumped up. âYes? Really?â
âJust the repeats!â TJ smiled, taking a step back to avoid getting stepped on.
âYes, thatâs amazing. Thatâs perfect. The people in the neighborhood are going to love you,â Cyrus said. âWeâll look up the value of every single one before we set them out.â
âAlready did that. Thatâs actually the reason why I decided to sell them.â
âAre they worth a lot?â
âNot as much as the cameras would be, but itâs a decent amount of money to pay for basketball camp.â TJ and Cyrus started walking away from their now former middle school, not looking back.
âHow long would you be gone for?â Cyrus asked him.
âThree weeks. We can handle that, right?â TJ asked him, squeezing his hand. The coach at Grant High School recommended he go to basketball camp to secure a spot on the varsity team the next year, but it was a little pricey even with both of his parents working at the time.
âOf course.â Cyrus squeezed his hands back, smiling at him. âLetâs go get your things.â After going through his GGâs stuff for the first time, TJ realized there was a lot of valuable items that included comic books and vinyls. He was letting go of all the comic books because he wasnât interested in that, but he didnât have the desire to let go of any music. There was more vinylâs in the attic than he realized and even though he didnât have a player, he wanted them for the day he did have one.
Cyrus was talking to TJ about his last day of dance and how he wasnât looking forward to regular PE at all as they headed to the Kippenâs house. âI need to have PE with Buffy at all costs next year. If not, Iâll definitely get picked last for every team.â
âYouâre already stressed out for PE next year?â TJ snickered. He knew Cyrus well enough at this point to know his fear of public humiliation in PE was insurmountable âYou need to relax a little. Itâs summer break.â
âI know, but I tend to plan every minute of my future and PE is an inevitable part of it.â
âLetâs make a deal. You put off thinking about PE until a month before school, and Iâll let you be there when I get my report card in the mail.â TJ liked to open his report card alone considering he has done really bad in math in the past, but Cyrus really wanted to see how much TJ had improved now that he had a proper tutor.
Cyrus hummed to himself before saying, âDeal. But only because I canât wait to see the look on your face when you see how well you did.â
âMy C average does bring out my best smile.â
âAll of your smiles are your best smiles.â
âYou literally told me my dancing to old music is my best smile.â
âItâs a little biased because you dance with me.â
âIt does make me smile when you slow dance with me,â TJ admitted to him. Cyrus smiled, blushing at the comment and making TJâs heart skip a beat. There hadnât been a single day where TJ doubted his feelings for him.
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They got to the Kippenâs empty house, Macaroni the cat waiting in the yard. He was jumping after a grasshopper before he saw Cyrus and TJ come up. He ran to Cyrus and meowed, making him grin. âHello, friend,â Cyrus said as he bent over to pick him up.
âNeedy,â TJ muttered to Macaroni as he roughly petted his ears. Macaroni swatted at TJ who pulled his hand away on time.
Cyrus held Macaroni closer and said, âYou have to be gentle with him. Heâs old.â
âHeâs okay,â TJ said, sticking his tongue out at the cat. He went to go unlock the door while Cyrus asked Macaroni about his day. The cat simply purred in his arms.
Inside, Cyrus put him down and followed TJ without asking upstairs to his room, little footprints tapping against the wood floors. Cyrus felt like the Kippenâs gothic house was his second home. It was Halloween themed according to his parents, but he liked the charm it gave off. TJâs parents were younger than his after all and when the air was clear, it was fun to be there.
TJ had two boxes on the floor ready to go. âCan you take the vinyl one? Itâs lighter,â TJ asked Cyrus as he picked up a box.
âFor sure,â Cyrus said. He got the box and looked around the room that seemed to be more crowded as TJ dug out things from the attic. It made Cyrus smile every time TJ called him with a new discovery. A new photo album from the 70s. More polaroid photos he took of TJ and Amber when they were little. A random trinket TJ thought was cool. One time he didnât find anything of his GGâs. He found a bunch of new t-shirts from his dadâs old band and a few CDâs TJ couldnât stop laughing at for an hour. His dad was in makeup that really did make him look like a vampire.
Cyrus said goodbye to Macaroni who rubbed against his leg before walking out with TJ and walking down to his house. Around the block, people already had their yard sales open and people from all over Shadyside were visiting there. Even though TJ lived so close to him, his neighborhood seemed to be a completely different world from his. TJ didnât know his next door neighbors, and he had just found out a month ago that Marty had lived across the street from him practically his entire life.
They got to Cyrusâ house where his parents had set out tables. Cyrusâ old toys and clothes were out and ready to go to new homes. He gave up most of his childrenâs books, but he kept a few favorites just in case he ever had kids to read them to one day. âYouâre selling all your Pokemon cards?â TJ asked him as he set his box on an empty table.
âThere will be someone who appreciates them more.â Cyrus then added, âTheyâre also fake.â
âDollar store packets?â TJ smiled knowingly.
âYes!â Cyrus laughed. âI always wondered why the ones at Kmart were more expensive and now I know why.â
âThey were still fun to play with, though.â
âI honestly never learned how to play with them,â Cyrus admitted. âI just liked looking at them.â
âThatâs me with my vinyl records right now,â TJ said. âI opened every single one of them because some had notes and receipts from GG. Some silly stuff like saying to pick up my grandma from school or just lists of other singers.â Cyrus stared at TJ as he set out the records, wondering if now was the time to give him what he just bought him. He wanted to hold out for his birthday but watching TJ talk about the vinylâs made him realize how much listening to that music meant to him.
âThereâs actually something I want to give you,â Cyrus said.
âNow?â TJ raised an eyebrow.
âThink of it as the first part of your birthday present.â
âFirst part? Of my birthday present? My birthday thatâs in July?â
âYes. Yes. Yes,â Cyrus nodded. âSo, do you want it or not?â
âCan it be the only gift you give me?â TJ asked him.
âOf course not. The other thing is on its way already.â
âOh god, Cyrus. You really didnât have to get me anything.â
âSays the guy that gave me a present everyday of the week leading up to my birthday.â TJ smiled, Cyrus knowing that he finally got him to give in.
âFine. Surprise me.â
Cyrus took TJâs hand. âCome on! I canât wait for you to see it.â Cyrus led TJ inside his house where they walked past his parents, TJ barely able to say a full hello to them. They went into his room where Cyrus let go of his hand and dug through his t-shirt drawer where he pulled out a wrapped present.
âYou already wrapped it?â TJ asked, smiling as Cyrus handed him the box.
âHad to be ready just in case you ever found it.â
âYouâre the one that snoops through my things, not me,â TJ reminded him.
âJust open in,â Cyrus said impatiently. TJ put the present on the bed and started ripping the wrapper. With a single tear down the middle, TJ knew what it was and gasped.
âCyrus,â he whispered. âYou really shouldnât have.â
âI wanted to. Really badly.â TJ finished unwrapping the green record player and held out the box in his hands, staring at it in awe. âNow you can listen to everything your GG left you.â
âYeah,â TJ said with a smile. âI really can.â He put the box down and went over to face Cyrus. âThank you so much.â TJ bent down and kissed him, both smiling into the kiss.
âYou are very welcome.â
TJ held onto Cyrusâ hand and told him, âLetâs go play some music.â
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 Part One / Part Two / Womâs Chapter / Part Three
@thatbeluga my next contribution to your masterpiece :)
"This is going to be an interesting interaction." Jack lowered his binoculars. "Interesting, sure, but also very messy." "Okay, there's no need to-" "You could have at least TRIED to clean-" "This is a personal attack! That's all this is. You know I procrastinate about stuff. I've still got time before dinner!" Jack rolled his eyes. "You seriously think that you can clean the entire estate before dinner which, judging by the fact that Elmo is now on the driveway, is in about twenty minutes." Wombat replied with a broad smile. "Oh no, no way, I am not helping you with your-" "Awesome! Let's get started," Wombat exclaimed, tossing his magnifying glass over his shoulder. He hadn't been able to see much with it anyways. The overeager marsupial somersaulted away from the attic window he had been creepily attempting to stare out of moments before. With a flourish, a box of garbage bags appeared in his outstretched paws. "I'm a little busy at the moment," Jack rebutted. "You didn't even take the lens caps off of those things," said Wombat. "Now get over here and help me clean up all the weird garbage we leave lying around the house for some reason. Like, do we not expect guests? Why are we never prepared for random people coming up to our front doorstep? Have we not heard of Jehovah's Witnesses? A topic for a later time!" He grabbed Jack and hauled him to the ground floor before he could continue the debate. He then shoved a handful of garbage bags at him and motioned in a westerly direction. "You take that side, I've got this one. Try not to throw too many things out, you might piss off Fuck. They tend to leave a lot of ahhhhh special projects around the house." "Like that elephant mannequin over there?" "Oh no, that's not one of the projects," Wombat chuckled. "They decided that elephants looked cold and therefore needed parkas, which is ridiculous because they only live in warm climates. Except for the elephants that Fuck kidnapped to give parkas to. Speaking of, if you see any around tell them Cassidy said hello." "Cassidy is not an elephant why would she care." "She's a mammoth. That's like an elephant in a parka." Wombat stared straight ahead for several seconds. "Yeah actually maybe don't do that, you might bring up some unfortunate memories." Jack promptly took his garbage bags and disappeared to the western half of the estate. Sixteen minutes later, the pair reunited in the front foyer. Since embarking on their quests, Elmo had entered their place of residence and been introduced to a large portion of the family, though for heinous reasons Wombat had not been included in that group. Perhaps that was because he had been picking up their trash. Both Jack and himself had completely filled their collection of garbage bags with odd trinkets or pieces of trash. "How did it go?" Wombat asked. "It went well," Jack replied, seemingly more engaged in the task now than he was before. "I would consider that to be a successful venture." Wombat nodded. "Did you get everything?" "Oh, hell no," Jack chuckled "I got through like half a room; this is a family of slobs." "Me too. I found my ironing board, by the way." "Oh," Jack gasped. "You wear clothes?" "Don't be ridiculous; I'm covered in fur. Think of all the chafing I would experience if I decided to conform to that societal norm." "How about I don't do that and instead suggest that we change the topic," Â Jack said, a blank stare dominating his amphibious features. "Sure. What do you want to talk about instead?" Wombat asked. " How about we discuss how much easier it would have been to get everything cleaned up if we just hosted this meal in the jar?" "Did you clean up the ketchup?" "Not exac-" "Did you take that golf club out of the dishwasher?" "Well, no-" "Is there, or is there not, a bag full of dried pasta on your nightstand." Wombat sighed. "I guess you're right. While I may act all high and mighty because I clean the house sometimes, I'm still part of the problem." Jack smiled warmly, placing one of his front feet on Wombat's shoulder. "I'm glad you're finally warming up to the idea that-" "So anyways, I found this grappling hook. I was thinking I would attach myself to the ceiling and lower myself into my seat once everyone else had taken their places. Because, you know, cool entrances are pretty neat." Jack groaned, and because he was such an exceptional friend he decided to encourage Wombat's scheming. "And how do you plan on getting into the dining room? That happens to be both the target room and the area with the target audience." Wombat simply winked, hefted the grappling hook over his shoulder, and marched dutifully towards the dining room.Â
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What if when Hopper first adopted Billy he was mentally preparing himself for a mess of clothes tossed about, dishes left everywhere, general teenage chaos? Instead, it's the complete opposite. Billy's had responsibility literally beaten into him, so he takes over all the chores thinking if he doesn't Hopper will toss him out. He cleans, cooks, drives El (and Max still) everywhere, etc while going to school and working part-time. How would Hopper react when he realizes why Billy does it all?
Oh I so agree with this, 100% feel like he was!! Like⌠I donât think anyone expects Billy to be as super considerate and clean as he is. Bc he really is! He lived his whole life w/ a man who very obviously carried his military service through his life into his adulthood in a very dangerous away and so I believe Billy was scared as all hell to ever let himself slip. He keeps everything he can immaculate bc if anything isnât Just Right, heâs the one getting punished every time.
When he was younger, Neil would put him through random, weekly checks of his room to make sure everything was clean and orderly. (when he got âold enough to be called a manâ, Neil stopped with those, but still yelled at Billy for anything disorderly in his room.) When Max was really young and would accidentally break things, Billy would absolutely always take the fall. Even if Max admitted to it being her fault, Billy would be hit for not watching her close enough/for letting her reach for that glass herself/for giving her those permanent markers/etc.
So I think Billy feels responsible not only for his things but for everything. This is his house now too, after all; his space, and heâs gotta make sure itâs perfect.
And Billy moves in with very few things. Billy just doesnât have a lot of stuff in general. I dunno if weâve all seen the pictures, but some people on here have analyzed the little makeshift nightstand + mirror thing that Billy has. Like, he piled a bunch of things on top of each other to make his little vanity. Iâve talked before about how I donât believe Billy was ever the type of kid to share things bc he just doesnât HAVE a lot. He doesnât own a lot of things and he KNOWS the cabin is small so he doesnât bring a lot of the things he does have with him either. He gives his stereo to Max. He leaves all the furniture and his mirror. He only brings his clothes in a duffel, a couple of trinkets he holds dear to his heart, and his hair stuff.
And itâs definitely not what Hop was expecting at ALL. he was expecting absolute chaos. Like you said, clothes strewn around the place, etc, so before Billy moves in, Hop goes out and picks up a dresser he finds at a yard sale. Itâs not much, but itâs something for Billy to keep his things in and on. And heâs fully prepared to have to give him a real hard lecture about keeping his shit where it belongs, which is inside the dresser or hamper and nowhere else, but he doesnât even need to. Hop gestures to the dresser and Billy thanks him quietly before immediately folding up all of his things neatly and placing them where they belong. He doesnât have enough clothes to even fill the dresser. Hop has to tear himself away from watching bc Billy can feel Hopâs presence and looks over his shoulder every now and then as Hop stares.
Itâs just that⌠this isnât what he was expecting. This isnât the same kid he agreed to take in.
He also 100% takes over literally every single chore! Some he does out of feeling of necessity, like cooking. He didnât cook all the time at home bc Neil felt that was a âwomanâs jobâ but the thing is, Neil and Susan would leave Billy and Max at home all night or even all weekend sometimes and theyâd leave so few leftovers that Billy had to learn how to cook to feed the both of them. (I also like to think about little Billy cooking dinner with his mom or grandma ⼠anyway)
So the boy has been cooking for years and when he sees that Hop feeds himself and El frozen dinners or freezer waffles or take out, he realizes he needs to be the one to cook. His biggest fear about it is Hop having the same mentality as his father, AKA âthis is a womanâs job and you shouldnât even know how to do itâ.
But he doesnât! Hop is honestly amazed at Billyâs knowledge of a kitchen, esp because he 100% does not share that same knowledge. And yeah, Billy tends to make very simple, very easy dinners, but they still taste a whole lot better and do a whole lot more than the frozen dinners that theyâre eating every night. So Hop lets him cook and supports it very much. Thereâs no underhanded comment there. He tries to tell Billy how much he appreciates it, but heâs not sure if the boy hears him.
And Billy does more than just cook. Bc some chores he takes on bc they just seem necessary, and others he takes on bc heâs always had them. Bc he feels obligated. Bc he feels fear bubbling in his chest over it. Bc the more he did around his old house, the less anger would be directed at him. Doing chores kept him busy, kept Neil from getting angry, and kept everything calm. For the most part. It was like a saving grace.
He carries that feeling with him.
So he does the laundry. Everyoneâs laundry. Heâs always taking out the trash as soon as it gets full, and heâll check it religiously, even if he doesnât need to throw anything away. He picks up everyoneâs dishes and washes and dries them. It takes him a few days to remember where they all go, but he gets it down quickly and Hop finds himself never washing dishes again. And it takes a few weeks to realize but suddenly, on his designated Chore Day (which is the second of every month, bc Iâm sorry but Hop really canât be fucked to do any kind of chore unless heâs designated a day, not even with El here now. He tried for about a month and it didnât work.) Hop finds himself with nothing to do. Like absolutely nothing. The shelves are dusted, the floor is swept, the trash is empty, the cabinets are full bc the dishes were washed this morning and when Hop goes to question Billy with a:
âSeriously kid? Is there anything you didnât do?â
Billyâs eyes flash with fear. Itâs a bit longer than a flash, actually. Heâs scared. Hop doesnât like how often he sees that look when he addresses the boy.
Billy starts to pull at a curl on the nape of his head, elbow against his chest, closing himself off even if itâs a little bit. Hop has been working hard to pick up on all of the little nervous habits Billy has. This is one of them.
âI dunno⌠is there?â Billy asks like heâs serious. Like either of them are serious about Billy needing to do more.
But Billy is serious.
Bc Billy is fucking terrified. Every day he feels it in his chest: Today is the day Hop realizes what a mess heâs gotten himself into. Today is the day Hop recognizes the tornado that is Billy Hargrove and heâs gonna realize how fucking far from worth it he is to keep here.
So he worries. And he does absolutely everything he can think of to prove to Hop that he isnât going to be a nuisance in the âliving under the same roof nowâ department. That he isnât going to be the âtypical messy teenagerâ. Itâs before he lashes out at the niceness because right now, nice isnât what scares him most. Everything just feels⌠tenuous. Uncertain and downright frightening. Even a speck of dirt or food or whatever on the floor strikes something in Billy and Hop sees how tense the boy is about it but doesnât comment.
Until now, bc now Hop is catching on. Now Hopâs getting a peek at whatâs happening. And itâs kind of completely breaking his heart.
âNo. I was just joking around.â
Billy blinks hard, looking away and moving his tongue around in his mouth in deep thought.
âYeah⌠course.â
Hop eyes him carefully as Billy heads out of the house with the lame excuse of âseeing a friend.â
And Hop realizes pretty quickly that Billy isnât in the house too often in those first few months. If heâs not at school, heâs at practice, if heâs not at practice, heâs with âfriendsâ, if heâs not with âfriendsâ, heâs driving the kids to the ends of the Earth or something bc heâs literally just never home.
Itâs not until heâs on call somewhere that he sees Billy, across the street, lugging boxes around the local warehouse and sweating like a pig.
And he watches him work and struggle and sweat and groan. He watches this boy, very visibly tired, and it really starts clicking. Bc Billy is always stressed out, tired, dragging himself around. Heâs always falling asleep on the couch or just sitting at the dinner table. (he also always freaks out when he gets woken up)
Itâs just that⌠yeah of fucking course this kid has a part time job. Of fucking course this kid is working himself to the bone. Now that Hop thinks about it, he reminds him of Jonathan, who always looks like he got hit by a freight train right out of bed. Itâs as heâs really thinking about that when a red flag pops up, because Jonathan has about 3 jobs and is stressed far too often for a young teen to be stressed and Hop never really understood the amount of concern Joyce had for him until now bc fuck watching this boy work like a dog is not fun.
So he brings it up when theyâre both home. When theyâre eating dinner and El is at Maxâs and thereâs a lull in the conversation bc Hop just canât stop thinking about how tired Billy always is. How stressed he always seems. It worries him so much it gives him headaches.
âSo⌠youâre working down at the warehouse?â
Billy nods absentmindedly. âYup.â
âAnd going to school?â
Billy takes a big bite. âYup. Pretty sure thatâs why I still go every day.â
âRight. And you do everything around the house?â
âDo you have a point?â Billy asks over a mouthful of chicken.
âI- Look kid, you afraid of getting kicked out or something?â Hop asks, putting his fork down and staring at Billy with the question hanging between them.
Billy tenses. Sets his own fork down. Sets his eyebrows low too, showing off that hard disdain heâs always sporting.
âWhy? What are you thinking about?â Billy asks, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed tight. Hop has seen the boy do this countless times before: heâs trying to look tough. But the thing is, it never works. It didnât even work the first time he did this. Heâs trying to look big but in reality he looks like a little kid who got told he canât have dessert tonight. He glares but itâs always paired with a pout like a toddler.
Hop shakes his head. He feels like he can never win with the boy. He also feels like he says all of the wrong things in the wrong ways at the wrong times. He relies on Joyce for a lot of stuff. Probably too much stuff, but heâs been trying, alright?
âCool it, I just⌠you do too much.â
âI what?â Billy asks like itâs some kind of insult. Hop canât help the sigh he releases.
âYou do too much. You donât need to bleed yourself dry every day, alright? Youâre doing too much.â
Billyâs mouth moves but no words come out. He looks semi-desperate to say anything, but he doesnât. Canât? Just furrows his brows and squints his eyes and shakes his head minutely and pouts. And Hop doesnât know how to continue this, he just feels bad. Feels it heavy in his heart bc this boy has the deepest circles under his eyes and he feels kind of responsible for it. Really, seriously feels responsible bc he watches this boy work himself down every day and doesnât say anything about it. Itâs just that he didnât know what to say. He didnât know what to do about any of it. He let it happen bc there wasnât a lot of alternative when he was always at a loss for words as to why a boy would even want to work so fucking hard all the time.
But he canât let it slide anymore.
âYou can keep your job, Iâm not saying you have to quit or anything, I just⌠stop cleaning everything. And doing all the laundry. ItâsâŚ. Nice, sure, but itâs too much.â
âI just⌠what are you talking about?â Billy asks, irritation laced with confusion in the blue of his eyes.
âIâm saying I need you to stop doing all the chores around here.â
âWhy?â
âBecause youâre tired! I can see youâre tired.â Hop pauses for a second. âAnd it weirds me out! I mean, youâre a kid, donât you ever just act like a kid?â
âIâm not a kid.â
âYouâre still 17, youâre a kid.â
âWhy are you mad at me for doing what Iâm supposed to do?â
âIâm not mad!â Hop nearly yells, hands going to his hair to pull at it. Itâs a lie. He is mad. Heâs mad at himself for not being able to find the words this boy needs to convince him to just calm down with the âresponsibilityâ shit. âI just donât want you running around-â
âIâm being responsible-â
âItâs not your responsibility!â Hopâs eyes are hooded by thick eyebrows bc heâs far too confused by these words to have any other kind of expression. At first glance, this kid looks like a brat. A boy who complains about having to do more than he needs to. About having to move off the couch to take the trash out.
But thatâs what knocks Hop into it. Into the realization that heâs completely wrong. Bc Billyâs hands have always been calloused, he works on his car himself, he knows how to do all of this stuff in a timely manner. He doesnât walk around like heâs confused, he walks around like a machine as he dusts the shelves and wipes down the tables.
Itâs never a sarcastic, smarmy little show of âIâm being a good house guest, canât you see?â
No. itâs an act of: âiâm doing what Iâm supposed to, donât look at me.â
He always moves fast; always quick about it. His shoulders are always hunched over. Like heâs trying to stay hidden and now Hop knows. It starts clicking more and more and heâs livid at so many things right now he canât even pinpoint them all and-
âNo. Itâs not your responsibility to take up every chore in the house. We can do it together and I know I kind of drop the ball on a lot of it but Iâm gonna get better about cleaning but I canât do that when you do everything and-â
Hopâs not even looking at Billy anymore. Heâs looking at his mostly empty plate, rubbing at his forehead and his hair and trying to see through his squinted eyes bc this isnât the conversation he ever thought heâd have to have but here he is and he looks up at Billy who-
Who is so confused. Whose eyebrows are closed in and whose lips are parted trying to form a question that isnât coming out and Hopper sighs.
âYour place in this house is safe. I mean it.â Hop says seriously. Looks Billy in the eyes and doesnât leave even a sliver of doubt. Doesnât let Billy think for a second this is a joke or that itâs an empty promise. That he isnât anything but absolutely serious.
Billyâs face falls from his confusion. His eyes are shifting everywhere, on the table, the floor, the wall next to them.
âBilly.â Hop starts, leaning forward a bit on his elbows on the table. âIâm serious. If youâre afraid of getting⌠I dunno, kicked out or something, you wonât.â
Billy blinks.
âJustâŚâ Hop continues on a sigh. âPlease stop doing everything. It makes me nervous.â
Billy nods slowly, eyes still confused. But he smiles a bit at the small smile Hop offers and itâs fine. Everything feels fine. Far better than fine.
And so Billy lets them help. El sweeps the floors and dusts the shelves. Hop wipes off the counters and learns to cook some more, as well as load the dishwasher correctly. Billy teaches him the âsecretsâ of doing laundry. (âTheyâre not secrets, old man, youâre just a caveman who doesnât know how to keep towels soft.â)
And itâs a little alien for both of them (and everything is a new and exciting experience for El) but itâs far better than fine.
#billy hargrove#chief jim hopper#el hopper#stranger things#ask#anonymous#bily hopper#billy gets adopted#hopper is a dad#and he's slowly realizing why joyce freaks out when onathan works too hard#bc holy shit wow#this is not good#this is worrying#sorry this took so long!!#and that it's kinda rambly!!!#i've had the majority of this written for a good while now#i just didn't feel good about it#but now i'm forcing myself to feel good about it!!#yayyyy!!!!!#anyway!#thanks for the ask honey#âĽ#bratty billy#!!!#sort of
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Guardian of creatures; AU! Queen x oc female x reader Chap. 8
*Authorâs note*
Hey gang, I hope my fellow American readers had a good Thanksgiving (even if you arenât American and celebrate thanksgiving, I hope you enjoyed it as well.) Anyways onto the important thing, I finally got around to a plot for the next chapter of GOC. I hope you all like this cause thereâs a surprise plot twist in this chapter and I went all evil and left it on a cliffhanger (hehehe) Anyways I hope you like this chapter and until the next time :)
Taglist:
@plethora-of-thingsâ
@waddles03â
@psychosupernaturalâ
@ixchel-9275â
@simonedkâ
@queensdivasâ
@queen-paladinâ
@queendeakyyâ
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdanielsâ
@kinole009xâ
@geek-and-proudâ
@wormzteefâ
@dancingcoolcatâ
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Chapter 8,
Time runs short
Five days later; as it was promised, Roger, Brian and Freddie took over your training. Â You learned hand to hand combat from Roger, healing magic and weaponry handling from Brian, and Freddie helped you to use magic without the use of a wand (just like he taught John and Serafina).
The lessons were hard and grueling and even left your muscles sore by the next morning but you pushed through it. Â Especially since you now had to balance the last stretch of your internship with the New York Times.
You were currently walking through the hallways after delivering a new set of pictures you took with a reporter on a double homicide of an elderly couple.
âOi intern!â you turn around and there stood Mr. Wormwood. He never did bother to learn your name which irked you every single time. Â But due to staying professional, you had no say in correcting him. Â Rule one, always remember your place in the newspaper business.
âYes sir?â you ask.
âTake this down to Singer downstairs in the printing room. Make sure itâs only him that gets it and no one else is that clear?â
âPerfectly sir.â You take the manilla folder and race towards the elevator and you hit the G1 button. Â You sit there waiting and waiting while a soft jazz music played over the speakers. Â You tap the rhythm on your thigh as you wait and wait, watching the floor levels drop each time. Â
When it finally dinged and the doors opened up, you left the elevator to find out that something wasnât right. Â There was nothing but storage files everywhere. Old newspapers scattered everywhere, files tossed like trash, carts filled to the brim with letters and packages. It took you a moment to realize that you were actually in the storage unit, not the printing room.
Damnit! You think to yourself. Â As you go to turn around a sound suddenly reaches your ear. Â A kind of clanking sound from a tin can or something. Slowly you turn around but you see no one there.
âSomebody there?â you call out. Â The room is dead silent. Â Not even the sound of the AC could be heard from down here. Â It made you have an eerie feeling, like when you were at the graveyard with Freddie one time and he was teaching you about seances. But this was creepier because you knew you didnât use the spell to contact a ghost, and you doubt anyone knew how to either.
As you walk through and push the carts aside you come to a large shelf of boxes, packages and broken trinkets (probably from old machine parts). Â You then heard the clinking sound again. Â This time it was really clanking, almost as if it were calling out to you.
You searched and searched but you couldnât find anything metal that was rattling the way it was. Â That was until you came across a brown package tied up withâchains? Why would an ordinary package need to be chained up? You pick up the package and saw that these werenât ordinary chains.
Engraved along every other chain was Nordic engravings. Remembering your multi-lingual lessons from Brian it read:
PURGATORY FOR BEASTS OF THE STORM AND ICE
You lean in close to the chains and softly whisper the first unlocking spell you could remember and hoped that it would work.
âAlohamora.â Low and behold the chains glowed a fiery color, almost like lava before falling down to the ground. Â You open the package and inside was some kind of vase?
You take it out and observe it closely to realize that it wasnât a vase at all, but an urn. Â It was emerald green with a gold top, as well as a single gold strand with Celtic ruins that circled around the middle of the urn. Â The urn begins to rattle in your hands so you quickly set it down along the shelf in front of you.
Soon you began to hear what almost appeared to be screaming coming from inside that urn. Â It was an awful, heartbreaking screaming. Â The kind that just tears at your heart, a scream of fear and panic. Wanting to help you place your hand on top of the urn when a loud voice suddenly screams at you.
âWHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?â you freeze and you turn around to see Mr. Grayson. Â His eyes wide with panic as he quickly walks up towards you and takes the urn back. With a flash of his hands he tightens the top and holds the urn almost possessively.
Slowly and creepily, his head turns towards you. Â An ugly sneer spread across his face as he looks at you almost deranged.
âHow did you open that?â
âIâI donât know.â
âWhy did you even come down here!?â his voice raises louder.
âMr. Grayson I didnât mean any harm I swear!â you plead. Just what was so important about that urn to him. And why was he acting like this? You knew he could have a temper but thisâhe was like an escaped asylum patient. Â Crazed eyes, baring his teeth, and acting possessive towards something.
âNo one touches MY STUFF!!â you then watch him lift up one of the carts and fling it onto itâs side, letters and packages flying across the air.
âM-Mr. Grayson pleaseâŚstop!â
âGET OUT!!â he screams at you. Â As he continued to trash the storage room, you race out as fast as you can towards the elevator. âGET. OOOOOUUUUUTTTT!!!â his furious screams echo through the dark hallway as you reach the elevator. Â Panicking you press the UP button and once the elevator doors open, you race inside and press a random button.
At this point you didnât care what floor you ended up on, all you knew was that you had to get out of this building. Â Once the doors opened, you raced out and ran past dozens of other workers. Â All of them exclaiming at you to watch it or telling you to slow down.
Somehow you manage to get out of the building and all you do is just run. Â Racing past people, dodging cars and horse drawn carriages. Finally you reach an alleyway and you collapse there on the dirty floor panting and trying to calm down from your panic attack.
Your heart racing with fear and tears rushing down your face. What the fuck just happened back there? Never have you seen someone act that deranged and psychotic before in your life (and you were in a Nagaâs coils). You really believed that you were about to be killed in that office and no one wouldâve noticed you were missing.
â(Y/n)?â a soft yet raspy voice called out to you. Â You lift your head and wipe away your tears.
âRoger?â you sniffled. âWhere are you?â
âHere.â You look around but there was no sign of the Nokk anywhere.
âWhere?â
âHere. Look down.â You look down to see a medium size puddle right in front of you. A puddle most likely still there from the storm that came the other day. Â You look closer and soon your reflection was replaced with Rogerâs.
âOh Roger. Finally a friendly face for once.â
âWhat happened (Y/n)? You look as if Fred tried to swallow you whole.â You glare at him for that little reminder of your first encounter with the Naga but you brush it away quickly as you answered.
âMy boss suddenly flipped out on me. But it wasnât a normal human meltdown. He went crazy, almost like he was possessed by something.â
âHow much are we talking about here? Demon leveled possessed.â
âNo. It wasâit was like how Serafina snaps easily during this time. But mixed with yours and Freddieâs temperament times 11.â
âThat bad huh?â
âI was scared Rog. He looked like he was really going to kill me! I thought I was gonna die in there!â
âAlright, alright, alright calm down. Here, take my hand and Iâll bring you home.â He extended his hand and soon his webbed hand stood in front of you.
âNormally I would be really freaked out about that.â
âYeah but youâre not normal. Not anymore at least. Now câmon take it.â You place your hand in his and he pulls you down into the puddle and soon enough you find yourself breaching at the lake before the house.
Roger now appears at your side and his shifts into his water horse form. Â He lowers himself to you and you pull yourself on top of him. Â Once your on, he raced out of the water and his water form dissolves till heâs a pure white horse as he keeps racing onward.
As you now stand before the mansion, you get off his back and he shifts back to his human disguise.
âHere, have a seat.â You both sit down along the backyard swing. Â Roger sits close beside you, his arm going behind your shoulders over the swing, âNow, tell me what happened this morning.â You take a deep breath and proceed to tell him everything, right down to the smallest detail.
You told him that it was all for an urn, and how out of character it was for Mr. Grayson to act the way he did. Â Sure you mentioned that he had a temper but never to the point of destroying things. Â You also mentioned the crazy ticks you remembered he did when you didnât notice before.
When he first turned to you after taking back the urn, you noticed how he began to flick out his tongue at the right corner of his mouth. A quick in and out like how Freddie does. Â Roger gives you his full attention as you continue to explain your story, thatâs when a voice speaks out.
âWhatâs going on here?â you both turn to see Brian coming out from the gardens. â(Y/n). We werenât expecting you till after your shift tonight, why are you home so early?â
âThey had a bit of a freak out at work and needed to cool off at home. Brian why donât you make yourself useful and maybe go whip up a batch of those chocolate chip cookies of yours.â The Elf lord glared at the Nokk and said.
âNormally Iâd have a retort for you but judging by (Y/n)âs frightened and exhausted face I wonât argue in front of them. Come with me dear one.â You follow Brian into the kitchen and as he promises, he makes up a batch of his famous chocolate chip cookies.
When they were done, Brian set down a plate for you and you thanked him graciously. Â But once you took one more bite, your chest began to hurt once more. Â This time the shock was so painful that it caused you to drop your cookie. Â Brian knelt down before you and said.
âYouâve been having a lot of these chest pains lately, are you sure you donât need me to heal you?â he asks.
âHow didâŚâŚâ
âIâm a high Elf dear one. You may think youâre able to hide this from the others, but not from me.â
âIâI donât know Brian. I donât even know what this could be. I know itâs not a heart attack cause I donât feel my arm going numb, and it doesnât hurt to breathe so itâs not my lungs that are doing this.â
âWell youâve suffered through this long enough. Come letâs get you up to my room and Iâll have a look at you.â He helps you up and guides you out of the kitchen. Â But before you both left, thatâs when the telephone began to ring. Â Brianâs expression turned to a grim shock as he stared at the phone.
âItâs just the telephone Brian.â
âThatâs just it. No one but us five know the number for this house.â Okay now you see why he looked so shock. Â Sure you had been given the number but you were sworn to secrecy to never, ever, ever under any circumstances give this number to anyone. Â âIâll get it.â
âNo!â Brian commanded. Â He takes a deep breath in and said in a calmer tone, âJust sit here, Iâll find out who this is.â He sits you down on one of the stools near the island and walks over to the phone.
Itâs constant ringing still going off till finally Brian picked up the receiver and spoke into it.
âHello?â Brian remained silent while the person spoke on the other end of it. Â âMay I ask who this is and why you need to speak to them?â Brian leans against the counter listening to the person before he says, âAlright, Iâll put them on,â he then turns to you and holds it out to you.
You sit up and walk towards him and take the phone from his hand. Â You put the receiver up to your ear and speak hesitantly.
âH-hello?â
âIntern, itâs Mr. Grayson. Listen, I want toâapologize for my behavior this afternoon. I understand that you left the office after what transpired in the storage unit and I wanted to give my sincerest apology. Come by the office for some coffee and weâll discuss it further on.â
âTo-tonight sir?â
âYes. I expect you in my office at 8pm sharp.â
âWell I uhhâŚâŚâ
âGreat see you there. Remember 8pm on the dot. Donât keep me waiting.â With that the conversation ended and he hung up on you without allowing you to speak your mind. Â You hang up the phone and say to Brian.
âMy boss wants me to come by the office for coffee as an apology for scaring me earlier today. Wait what time is it?!â you turn to the clock and see that itâs 6:15pm. âShit I need to get back to the city now!â
âBut what about your healing session?â Brian asked urgently.
âSorry Brian but Iâve got to go now. If Iâm late who knows if heâll have another freak out like he did today. I canât disappoint him see yah Brian bye!â you said hurriedly as you gather up your light coat and keys and raced right out the door towards your car.
As it got darker, you finally arrive at the office to see itâs completely empty. Â The lights all turned off and the typewriterâs finally silenced. Â You walk through the hallways till you finally reach Mr. Graysonâs office. Â You knock on the door and you hear his voice say.
âCome in!â you entered inside and as usual he sat there lounging against his leather chair and cigar in his mouth. Â âRight on time rookie, sit down.â He spoke. Â You enter inside his office, âClose the door.â
âButâweâre the only twoâŚâŚâ
âI SAID CLOSE THE DOOR!â he snaps at you. Â Fearfully you close the door as you push your back against it. Â He takes a sharp breath in before saying calmly, âSorry. Just beenâhaving one of my rare furious moments.â He stands up and walks over to his coffee machine and tweaked at the knobs preparing two cups of coffee. âThis jobâtakes a lot out on you. Youâre expected to give our commands like youâre on the war front again. Sometimes I still get memories of my time back in the Great War. Pain in the ass I tell yah.â
âIâmâsorry sir.â You said solemnly.
âAinât no need for you to be sorry. Thatâs life for yah. Knocks you into the ground and you end up rolling in shit half your life.â
âYeah. But my grandfather used to tell me, when life does that to you. You need to get back up on that horse as soon as possible.â
âOtherwise youâre nothing but shit on the ground as well. My old man used to tell me the same thing.â He takes the cigar out of his mouth in order to take a sip of his coffee. Â And it was then you noticed that similar flick of his tongue that he did earlier.
âUhh sir Iâhate to pry but uhhâŚâŚthat urn in the storage unit.â
âOh yes. That. Iâve been meaning to ask you about that myself.â He said as he slowly walked over towards the door. âYou see that there was a special urn gifted to me by my auntie back in the day. But only a few certain people could read it.â You then saw him take out a set of keys and lock the door on you.
At this point your heart was racing, your palms were getting clammy, and your adrenaline was pumping.
âHow was it that you could open it? Thereâs only a certain type of people that can unlock chains like that.â He spoke in an impatient, snippety tone. Â He took the cigar out of his mouth and tossed it over to the trash. âDo you know why I chose you to go to the BEWITCHED club? Why you, an insignificant little nobody like you?â
âSir I donâtââ
âBecause I knew exactly who you were! Those traitors along with their little pets werenât the only ones spying on you. Weâve been watching you too.â He spoke as he walked right up to you, getting right up into your face.
âWhat? Youâbut how could youâŚ.I mean youâŚ..â
âYou, you, you, you, you, you.â He mocked you pettily. âQuit your sniveling! You went to that club because He made it be so. And now thanks to youâŚâŚweâve got them. Our centuries of tracking is finally over. And nowâyour usefulness has reached its end.â
Suddenly the door bursted out with red magic and soon Mr. Grayson was shot with another red blast right towards him as well as his chair. Â Mr. Grayson was now pinned to his chair and when you turned around there stood Serafina, John, Brian, Roger and even Freddie.
They all piled in the office, John went straight up to Mr. Grayson and pulled back his head.
âFreddie!â Freddie slithered towards Mr. Grayson and bit his neck. He cried out in pain as he even made gurgling sounds. Â When Freddie removed his fangs from your bossâ neck, John interrogated him.
âYou know who we are?!â
âLittle Johnny boy!â he hissed through his gurgling and choked up voice.
âAre you Richard Grayson? Are you!?â
âNoâŚâŚâ
âIs he in this room? Is he in this room!?!?â John snarled again. Â This time taking the collarâs of his shirt. Â Mr. Grayson didnât respond verbally but his eyes shifted over to his desk.
â(Y/n) away from there!â Serafina ordered. Â You moved away from the desk as Brian and Roger held you between them. Â John then twisted his wrist and the desk magically transformed itself into a black and grey chest. Â He contorted his fingers a certain way and purple magic came around the chest as it began to unlock itself, one by one the lids opened till the 7th one opened.
As soon as that chest was open, a foul smell filled the air. It was unlike any smell youâve ever had smelt before. Â Slowly you all walked towards the chest and when Serafina sent down a red light of magic, you gasped at the awful sight.
It was Mr. Grayson. Â He lay there limp and beaten to almost a bloody pulp. Â The decomposition from his body looked like he had been in there for months, maybe even a whole year.
âThatâsâthatâs Mr. Grayson. ButâŚâŚ.â Freddie flicked his tongue into a vile of sorts and said.
âPolyjuice potion.â
âNow we know why he was hidden from your sights Fred.â Said Brian.
âWeâll have to burn the body, itâs our best chance of the humans not investigating us.â Roger said.
Soon you all began to hear the Richard Grayson imposter groan and grumble. Â When you turn you saw that his face was actually starting to slowly melt, like a lit candlestick. Â The right side was showing a more rapid progression of melting away than the left. His hands which gripped the arms of his chair till his knuckles were pure white, soon opened up and parts of his fingers actually broke off his hand.
He then let out a scream as some teeth shot out. Â He began to twist himself about like he was having a seizure as his face morphed into someone else. Â The short grey hair slowly grew longer and wilder and into an auburn like color, the wrinkles completely faded and his sharp profile became slightly more rounded.
With a final groan, his head lowered down and you saw a younger man now sitting in the chair. Â A crazed look in his eyes as his tongue flicked in and out from his lips. Sweat glistened across his face as his chest heaved up and down with each breath. Â You got a closer look at him by lowering yourself down to where his head hung, but the man roared as he tried to reach out for you.
Serafinaâs and Johnâs magic held him back against the chair while Brian took you back. Â The young man glared spitefully at you as John said.
âLong time no see, cousin Crowley.â John sneered. Â Crowley only smirked as he said to you.
âIâll show you mind if you show me yours muggle.â He growled with a Scottish accent. He then revealed a dark tattoo on his arm which actually moved. Â It was a skull with a snake wrapped the skull, even going through the left eye socket and the head of the snake resting over the head of the skull.
âYour chest (Y/n).â Brian said as he ripped open your shirt to reveal that you had the very same symbol over your heart. Â However it glowed a dark blue color, like a brand.
It soon began to make sense. You hadnât gotten this mark until you joined the NY Times, when you first got your badge. Â How could you be so stupid, that badge was enchanted to mark you!
âYou know what this means donât you? They know where you are now. Your precious Knight has been our tracker on you this whole time.â John and Serafinaâs face mellowed to hidden fear.
âIâm sorry guys I didnât know.â Brian held you close as Serafina said.
âHeâs all yours Freddie. Do with him as you wish.â As you all walk out Crowley calls out.
âIâll be welcomed home like a hero!â
âNot likely. For you see, Nagaâs donât leave anything behind.â You all rush out of the office, leaving Freddie toâdevour Crowley.
You all arrive back at the house and were currently sitting in the study room where your magic first began, Brian was working on healing you of the brand while John and Serafina worked on a potion to destroy the enchanted nametag. Â John pulled out the nametag and saw that it hadnât been affected by the potion they just made.
âIt should be melting by now.â
âToo much conqueror root?â she questioned.
âNo. Not enough forest fae ash.â Serafina went over to the shelf and picked up a small urn and dumped it into the potion before stirring it up once more. Â John placed the badge in the cauldron again hoping the badge would melt.
Meanwhile you could hear Brian muttering in Elvish a chant as he pressed a wet cloth to the brand.
Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth
He kept repeating that chant over and over and over again under his breath. Â Meanwhile your thoughts were buzzing of how all of this was your fault. Â If you hadnât taken a job at the New York times, John and Serafina would still be safe from his family.
But now because of you, they would be here any minute now. John and Serafina be tortured by Johnâs psychotic family for leaving. Â Brian, Roger and Freddie killed for being magical creatures, and it was all your fault.
âDonât blame yourself for this.â Brianâs soft voice spoke. You turn to him but this time you couldnât bare to look into the eyes of the Elf Lord. Â You didnât deserve his comfort.
âBut I did this. I couldâve gotten an internship at some other news press. Moved to another state to do it. Hell I shouldâve spoken up about that pain I was feeling in my chest. I put you all in danger. I donât deserve to be your Knight. I donât deserve any of this.â You wipe away a tear from the corner of your eye as you refused to look at any of them.
âYou can believe that and feel sorry for yourself, or you can help us fix a broken world.â Serafina said to you. âThis isnât our first time coming in contact with Johnâs family. It was bound to happen sooner or later. But right now our main focus is getting that tracking spell off of you. Then when they do come, weâll be ready for them.â
âSheâs right.â John said. âYou couldnât have known that it was my cousin. Crowleyâs always been crafty with his disguises, heâs even gone so far as to be avoided by the Seer of all creatures. So whomever of my family comes for us, weâll fight till the end. Because thatâs what we do. We donât give up.â
âAnd pray to Poseidon that nothing else is coming for us.â Roger said as he lounged himself across the couch. Â Brian, John and Serafina glared at Roger but you could tell that even through their glares, they too hoped that he was right.
*3rd Person POV*
Back at the NY Times office in the storage room, earlier that day when Crowley had his meltdown as Richard Grayson, he had neglected to reseal his urn. Â It now lay in the corner of the room on its side.
Suddenly the cap came off and a dark blue mixed with purple liquid spilled out of it.  However instead of just forming one straight line, the blue liquid began to trail down and form a circle, while the purple began to make a star, and together the liquid formed a pentagram. Â
At the center of the pentagram, two liquid figures began to rise from the liquid. Â One of them being out of the blue liquid while the other was purple. Â Their crouched bodies slowly raised up till they stood proud and tall.
Once the liquid faded away, the two figures soon dropped their liquid forms and there stood two men. Â Around the short-haired man, a cold mist formed over his feet, and the other had lightning flickering from his fingertips which caused the lights to flicker and cause a loud humming sound.
The man with short hair cracked his knuckles before shooting his left hand out to the side towards the urn which froze it into nothing but a block of ice and within seconds the urn shattered into millions of pieces.
The two men looked at each other and strutted out of the room with pride in each step. Â As they passed through each of the lights, they blew out and exploded which filled the long-haired manâs arm with even more electricity.
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Emile-Hides told me about their self indulgent(and also super cool) Chzo Mythos au, so I have decided I shall reveal some stuff about mine as well, mostly just random details. Im p sure it diverges from canon quite a bit, especially the parts involving Chris Bc I canât fully understand Chrisâ canon for the life of me(It isnât actually very complicated Iâm just dense for some reason) Most of the first half of this has turned out to be rambling abt the TCS factors of my au specifically.
-Obviously, post TCS events, as Iâve mentioned before Trilby adopts a scuttler which he trains and raises, the scuttler becomes a soldier buzzer when it grows up. Trilby adores it.
-Trilby has a brother! The brother is my interpretation of one of the playable characters in TCS, but I wonât say which one.. yet.
-I wasnât a huge fan of the paradox full circle 7DAS Malcolm being Trilby thing so I sorta made my own version? 7DAS Malcolm and his family are clones of Trilby and his family made by Chzo so Trilby could fully serve his purpose as a guide. Obviously they arenât exactly identical because of the huge environmental and time differences.
-My version of the Wizard grew up in The Order Of Blessed Agonies. Her father was a devote member and her role model. Her blessed agony of the soul was supposed to be to kill him. She couldnât do it. They locked her up and planned to sacrifice her, a member of the Ministry of Occultism however investegated the location, shut it down, and freed her. She then promised herself sheâd stop The Orderâs plans.
-The scholar kept a wallet with pictures of his family in it to remind him of why he was trying to stop the ancient. Eventually he got word of the murder of his wife and child and... gave up, sadly.
-The warrior found his car, and decided to use his notes to figure out what was happening and how to stop it, on the way he ran into the wizard, and they decided to work together to stop the ancient.
-The invading ancient was Chzo.
-Trilby was trying to find the ancient at the same time, he arrived at Stonehenge very shortly after the Warrior and Wizard had managed to banish Chzo. Trilby helped patched them up and they all talked and all that good stuff. Neither Trilby or the Wizard could really go back to their past at that point. Because of this the Warrior offered to let them stay with him. On the way out of Stonehenge was when Trilby found and grabbed Steve the scuttler.
Ok now on from TCS
-Chris has amnesia. He canât remember much of what happened before the day his parents died. He also doesnât remembered what happened to reverse his zombie-ness. He just knows he isnât a zombie anymore.
-Chris lived with his parents in the house we see in the game, but didnât have the best relationship with them. Because of this he also had a room at an appartment his friend stayed in(he insisted on helping her pay the rent despite her saying he didnât have to). He and this friend had known each other since high school and were super close. He doesnât remember hardly anything about her, but he read some of his old books and saw her name mentioned in the lists of people he thanked, so he does know whoever she was she was important to him.
-The mental hospital Chris stayed in was really a product of its time. The doctors didnât understand much about the mental illnesses they were treating. Their practices werenât great, and the psychology they relied on was flaky at best. Chris honestly ended up worse off because of it.
-Trilby did in fact meet Chris while trying to steal a ruby! And yes, they went on a date. Trilby was just trying to get out of trouble. Chris was quite flattered and thought there was more to it. They went their separate ways after that. A few years later when they run into each other when Trilby joins the Ministry, both are a bit shell shocked.
-After the hotel incident Trilby just entirely shut everyone out. He was terrified of everything. He was a mess. Most of the Ministry just brushed him off, another nobody who couldnât handle the stress of the job. Chris reached out to him and tried to help him through everything. This is how they started getting close.
-When their handler at the time noticed that they were beginning to become friends, she(idk who their handler actually wouldâve been so I just made someone up) started sending them on missions together, wanting to see how theyâd work together in the field. They worked great, and therefore ended up a pretty well known duo in the ministry.
-Claire is good friends with both Chris and Trilby and is sorta a mother hen type. Sheâs always pestering them to take care of themselves and be responsible and all that. Sheâs a very sweet woman.
-Trilby took Simoneâs death personally. He took all the deaths related to Chzo and Cabadath personally. Yes he wasnât particularly close to most of the people, but he still shouldâve stopped it. In his mind at least. He feels like since heâs directly connected to Chzo by fate, he shares partial responsibility for the suffering and death Chzo causes that he fails to stop.
-On a lighter note Trilby ended up sorta a father figure to Jim. They keep in contact through mail mostly. Itâs part of what compelled Trilby to join the STP: ending up in jail, until Jim found out, would just look like he abandoned the poor kid. He didnât want to do that to him.
-Trilby has dad instincts. Donât fight me on this.
-Chris is that person who learns to make all the drinks his friends like so he can surprise them with them when they have a bad day.
-Chris keeps his bedsheets and himself extremely clean despite the rest of his appartment usually being a mess. He figures if he canât keep up with all of it right now he should keep up with what helps him feel comfortable and work his way up.
-Trilby is the literal definition of organized chaos, his house, his office, all of it looks like a train wreck, but he knows exactly where everything is. Itâs magical.
-Chris one time tried to adopt a hellhound. Nobody was exactly happy about that. Chris eventually had to send it back to hell.
-Chris acts shocked when Trilby curses despite Trilby doing it quite often.
-Trilby is more sentimental than youâd think. He keeps a lot of little trinkets and such to hold on to those he loves in a way. If you give him a gift, chances are heâs not getting rid of it unless he absolutely has to. Even then itâs not too likely heâs letting it go. His most treasured keepsake is his motherâs wedding ring.
-Chris canât take good photos for the life of him. They all come out blurry or overexposed or grainy. He finds it infuriating but his friends find it hilarious.
-Trilby and Chris are those idiots who pine for each other constantly but neither can say crap. Claire just wished theyâd get over themselves and kiss already.
#chzo mythos#chzo Mythos au#xdays#xdays series#xdas#I know itâs not too out there but I have big anxiety with straying from canon
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[47/365] -Â [55/365] Love Language
[47/365] While Kirishima is a master of all forms of love language, his favorite by far is complimenting Todoroki and verbalizing his love for him (closely followed by physical affection). Kirishimaâs compliments always hit Todoroki by surprise because heâs so unaware of how positively other people perceive him, so heâs often left speechless and baffled like âI am all of this?â. Even though he has never held a grudge against his mother, her âyour left side is unsightlyâ left an impact on him.
[48/365] Todoroki uses words of affirmation mostly subconsciously and they often happen without much thought put into it due to Todorokiâs blunt nature. He just speaks whatever is on his mind right now, but doing so with intent is more difficult to him. Todoroki always struggles to put his emotions into words, so in the beginning of their relationship he often just copies Kirishimaâs compliments. When Kiri says he loves his eyes, Todoroki says that Kirishimaâs eyes are pretty too. Kirishima finds it quite endearing. Itâs not his job as his boyfriend to change Todoroki (not that he wants to), but to love him the way he is and Kirishima believes that together they will be able to grow and become the persons they want to be.Â
[49/365] Shoto is rather prone to use physical touch to show his affection. Reaching out to hold Eijiroâs hand no matter when and where they are just comes naturally to him. He also loves kisses to say thank you or just to randomly appreciate Eijiroâs presence. They can be sitting on the couch, watching a show and Eijiro laughs at a joke and his bright, wide smile just makes Shoto wanna kiss him, starting at the corner of his mouth. The spontaneous affection always makes Eijiro smile for an entire different reason. But they both love to give and receive and their personalities reflect in how they go about it. Eijiro is all about big gestures like giving full body hugs and lifting Shoto off the ground. His warm bear hugs never fail to make Shoto melt into him as if their bodies were made to fit together. Shotoâs touch is more subtle, but always meaningful. If Eijiro is upset (may be anger or sadness), a warm, firm hand on his shoulder is enough to calm him down and ground him. Shoto always struggles to find the right words to comfort Eijiro because he thinks certain phrases just sound shallow and insincere, so he lets him know that heâs there for him through physical touches.Â
[50/365] Shotoâs personality makes him a good listener. So his act of service is often to lend Eijiro an ear and let him vent while he listens patiently. He keeps seeing things rationally when Eijiro is being emotional.Â
[51/365] Eijiro is a classic gentleman, holding doors open or carrying heavy things even though he knows that Shoto is perfectly capable of carrying three big grocery bags by himself, but Eijiro says he has already carried enough burdens in his life. Shoto points out that Eijiro is shouldering a lot as a human shield in his hero work as well, but still indulges him by letting him act chivalrous because he knows it makes Eijiro happy since itâs a trait he values highly and Eijiroâs happiness makes Shoto happy too. [52/365] Shoto is the one who brings trinkets back home because random small things remind him of Eijiro like âI saw kids on the vending machines today and one had these cute little red dragon keychains that look like you, so I got you oneâ. Eijiro proudly puts all these little gifts on display, telling his friends âlook what my boyfriend got me the other day!â, so after a while his room, and later their apartment, looks a little cluttered with all the items that donât really fit together.
[53/365] Eijiro is pretty much the type to make visual connections too, but heâs more likely to buy short-term stuff like food (strawberry cheesecake) or a bouquet of two-colored (red and white) tulips.
[54/365] Itâs also really important to Eijiro to make sure that Shoto gets his quality time when itâs just the two of them. Especially after big events like birthday parties or hero galas he makes sure that they get to sleep in and spend lots of time cuddling and kissing (and more if they feel like it) before actually getting up. Unless they have work the morning after, then the cuddling has to wait until evening.
[55/365] Shoto knows that quality time for Eijiro doesnât only mean alone time with his partner, but also seeing his friends. So he doesnât mind when Eijiro spends time with the squad while he stays at home alone or meets up with Midoriya and Iida.
đ¤â¤ď¸ 365 days of TodoKiri headcanons đ°âď¸
may be contradictory when Iâm indecisive on a thing
may be similar to other people's hcs because one shared braincell
may be NSFW(-ish) on occasion
feel free to ask about my hcs on anything so I donât run out of ideas
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