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mangoshorthand · 2 years ago

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Before A Fall [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch 4 (Hard Feelings Part 2)

SUMMARY: As your life begins to grow around Five's, his attitude becomes a little sinister. When does protection become suffocation and when does taking matters into your own hands become betrayal? (weekly updates) Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

Five is buzzing at the hint of a mystery, but your feelings are becoming more complex.

Smut below. Proceed at your own risk

Chapter 4: Socialist Sesame Street

The other adults have mixed responses to Five upon seeing him again, leaning against one of the many LEDs screens, eyes scouring the ingredients on the back of a can of JUICED. Some tsk in disapproval, most ignore him but the odd person tries to talk, worriedly. These he shuts down; politely but firmly. One man approaches him with aggressive swagger, presumably the same man who had objected to his interruption back in the auditorium.

“Hey, son.”

He’d hoped the diminutive terms of address would be gone by now. Apparently not. He looks up at the man. He’s solidly built with a cap pulled down tightly on his bald head.

“You made a real ass of yourself in there.”

Five returns his eyes to the ingredients list, one hand falling naturally into his pocket, “I wasn’t craving your opinion on my behavior but thanks for the feedback I guess.”

The man bristles, “You got a kid in second grade? Got a girl pregnant when you were a freshman or something?”

“I’m in loco-parentis."

"What?"

Five sighs, "I'm Santiago Pitts-Hargreeves' uncle. I'm in charge while his parents are away. Now, can I help you?”

“I’m just telling you." he gestures to the can in Five's hand, "My Sean drinks it every day and he ain’t got cancer. You one of them conspiracy nuts?”

“Depends on the conspiracy.”

This answer clearly doesn’t put this Dad's mind at rest.

“Listen, you’re crazy bastards, you’re scared of everything. First the soda gives kids cancer, then they faked the moon landing-"

Five speaks as if to finish his list, “-then there’s widespread pedophilia cover-ups in the catholic church. Not everything that sounds crazy is false.”

The guy reverts tactic:

“Like I say, JUICED is all my kid drinks. Nags and nags until he gets it. If it caused cancer, he’d for sure have it.”

“Well,” says Five, inclining his head and raising his eyebrows with a hint of sardonicism, “then I'd suggest you get him tested. Just in case.”

You and Santi watched and enjoyed the latest Pixar offering and he laughed at you when you’d left the theater with tears in your eyes. You’d decided to spoil him tonight; this kid was having the toughest of tough times. After the email Five mentioned to you, at least half of you is convinced that you’ll arrive home tonight to learn that Alyssa has died.

Partly due to this preoccupation, you’d allowed Santi to spend an inordinate amount of money on movie-theater candy and he's still riding the sugar high.

He sits, swinging his legs at your McDonald’s table and chatters happily about how fries taste a jillion times better if you dip them in ketchup and then barbeque sauce but not the other way around. You, of course, try it both ways and pretend to taste a difference in the result.

“Wow you got a real sense of flavor. You think you’re going to be a chef?”

“Nah. I got to use my power. I can save the bees and maybe one day pandas and tigers and everything.”

“Cool” you say. While you have your doubts about the long-term genetic stability of duplicated creatures, you run with it anyway, “I bet you will."

You pause a second, your mind flashing back to his conversation with Five. Is there an opportunity to be a different voice?

“That’s a really kind thing to do for the animals. How else might you save them?”

He looks a little confused.

“I’m asking because when there aren’t enough animals it’s usually because of something people have done accidentally or on purpose. You can duplicate animals, but if people have built on their homes, then where will they live?”

“I get Uncle Luther to knock down all the buildings!”

“I don’t think Uncle Luther would do that,” you laugh, “he’s too nice. What about the poor people in the buildings? Where will they live? It’s not their fault.”

“But the animals?”

“I know Santi. I think we need to stop the builders building there in the first place…but maybe the builders only built there because people needed to live somewhere.”

“Maybe the people go someplace else?”

“Mm-hm. But what if they don’t have enough money to go live somewhere else?”

“We give them money…or we give them houses. We got lotsa rooms at home.” He chomps his hamburger.

“That’s a nice idea,” you look at him, thoughtfully, “but isn’t it crazy how animals not having enough places to live can be sorta linked to some people not having enough money?”

“Yeah,” he chews thoughtfully. He looks troubled by this, so you lighten up this cursory glimpse down socialist Sesame Street.

“Don’t worry about it now. There are lots of kind people who work together to make sure everyone has a home. People and animals. Maybe one day you could join in?”

“Yeah!”

He's smiling in that way that reminds you of Lila- chubby cheeks pouting outwards.

“I think you’d fit right in. You’re kind too. And if a lot of people are kind together and care an awful lot, they can fix stuff.”

“Like the Lorax?”

“Yeah, kinda. Do you want an ice-cream?”

In the semi darkness on the Academy steps, you sit down and gesture for him to sit next to you. He does and you take both of his small hands in yours.

“Santi- before we go in, how are you feeling?”

“Happy,” he smiles.

“Yeah? I’m glad to hear that. How are you doing with the mean people at school?”

“They mostly been off school so it’s better.”

Well…it works on a temporary basis, you suppose.

“Who have you played with at recess?”

“The bugs,” he grins, “I made four HUGE spiders today.”

You shudder, “Oh no- that sounds like my worst nightmare!”

He laughs, an infant-like squeak creeping into his voice. When all is said and done, he’s still just a baby.

"It's ok, I make them disappear too, you know."

You smile, “Tomorrow, can you do something for me?”

“What?”

“At recess, if you see someone who looks lonely, can you see if they want to play?”

He pulls a face but doesn’t really respond.

“That would be a kind thing to do,” you prompt.

He hesitates, “I’ll try.”

“Perfect!” you raise your arms in exaggerated joy.

“But what if they say go away?”

“Then you’ll have been kind anyway and I’ll be proud of you. Maybe they're feeling sad. And...some people are mean, but that's their problem; it's nothing to do with you really.”

You hold out your arms to him and give him a tight hug. You feel a sudden rush of affection. You've been in this little boy's life for a significant portion of it. It's a responsibility you don't take lightly.

He yawns.

“Come on, sweetie,” you say, “it’s late. Let’s get you to bed.”

Almost as soon as you step into the entrance hall, Five blinks into existence in front of you with the familiar ffssht and flash of light. He drops to his haunches and grips both of Santi’s upper arms in his:

“Santi! DON’T drink the soda.”

“Wh-what?"

"Five?"

“JUICED. Santi: never drink it again. You gotta promise me!”

“O-ok.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“You’re scaring him.”

You put your hand on Santi’s shoulder and steer him out of Five’s grip.

“What’s happened?”

“I think it’s poison.”

With Santi calmed and sound asleep, you’re sitting on the bed while Five stands, his arms folded and toe tapping.

"You can’t tell Diego and Lila until you’re sure.”

“Yes. I’d come to that conclusion.”

“But what made you think-?”

“Can you be quiet a moment? I have to think."

You stare, hurt.

He blinks across the room, pulls an ancient typewriter out of the bottom of your wardrobe and slams it on the table. He looks around madly, opening draws and ducking his head under the desk. You cross to the bookcase and extract a sheet of paper from the ream stored there.

He takes it wordlessly, threads it onto the roller and types smartly. You move as if to read it over his shoulder but he waves you away gruffly. You step back, perplexed.

He stands quickly, tears the paper from the machine and rolls it into a tight cylinder.

With that, he blinks away.

In his Dad’s old office, he crosses to the fireplace, glancing disdainfully up at the painting on the wall, (What sort of pathological narcissist has an oil-painting of himself behind his own desk?). The green-tiled surround is flanked by two carved volute pillars, ostentatiously holding up the equally ostentatious mantelpiece.

Beside the right-hand pillar on the swell of the chimney breast is a hidden compartment that opens only for his hand. Inside is a tube-shaped capsule and a pipeline disappearing upwards- it's a founder's privilege. He stuffs his note into the tube, the tube into the pneumatic pipeline and slams the lid shut.

He backs up, the back of his legs coming into contact with Reginald’s desk. He sits there silently, listening to a fly buzz somewhere in the room. His leg shakes restlessly for a moment until he can’t stand it anymore. He’s up and over at the glass-doored cabinet to his right. He pulls out the decanter, two glasses and pours a generous amount into each. Then, he takes up the slightly larger of the two and sips.

The fly stops buzzing. The air’s thicker. It’s a state Five remembers well. Time has been paused.

“Hello Number Five,” comes Herb’s friendly voice, “long time no speak.”

“I was kinda hoping to finally knock my time with the Commission on the head... yet here I am.”

Five turns and sits behind the desk. With a gesture, he offers Herb the seat on the other side.

“Bourbon?”

Herb accepts, taking his seat and placing his briefcase under the table. Five passes the other glass over the desk.

“How’s Dot?”

“Well, thank you,” Herb smiles, “and your lady?”

A slight shadow passes Five’s face, which Herb doesn’t miss.

“She's well.”

Wisely, Herb decides not to pursue this line of enquiry. Instead, he gets down to business.

“Now, how can I help you today?”

“It's small fry from your perspective but I got some suspicions, Herb."

He leans back in his father's chair and crosses one leg over the other before continuing.

"Holbrook Elementary school in the city. Four kids in one class have developed cancer and it’s too unlikely to be a coincidence. There’s no atmospheric reason that I could place and yet they’ve got this corporate sponsorship with the soda company JUICED....and the stuff is all over the school.

Herb nods, smilingly, “You trying on the old superhero cape again?”

“It’s my nephew’s school Herb.”

“Ah.” Herb takes another sip of whiskey.

“Now, I’m hoping you’ll be able to run some numbers and help me out here. Give me something to go on.”

Herb looks pained, “Er- you know that I can’t-”

“Yes, I know you can’t just tell me the answer but can you at least indicate the path to finding the answer, or maybe tell me if I’m way off base.”

Herb considers.

“Give me,” he checks his watch, “until tomorrow on my end but I can make it five minutes for you.”

“Thank you.”

With a nod, Herb picks up the briefcase and vanishes.

The fly resumes its buzzing, the air clears. Five massages the pressure points at the bridge of his nose in an effort to clear the slight build up in his sinuses that always results from the pausing and unpausing of time. He finishes his drink and pours another, containing one restless leg’s desire to shake with difficulty. He checks his watch.

The fly appears before his face, he lifts a hand to waft it away just as it freezes in mid air. Herb, wearing a different shirt and tie, is again before the desk, holding a thick file.

“Hello.”

“Thanks again Herb.”

Five plucks the static fly from mid-air and positions it out of his eyeline before continuing.

“What have you got for me?”

“It’s as I thought. I can’t give you much because you’re integral to working it out.”

“Ah shit.” Five leans back into Reginald’s old desk chair, “you mean, the old fashioned way? Like, chemistry?”

“Afraid so.”

He sighs, “So I’m reading up on chromatography?”

Herb gives him a little shrug and jerk of the head as he takes a sip of his whiskey, his face seems to say: Maybe, but I can’t tell you.

“Is there anything, anything at all you can say?”

“I can put your mind at ease: Santiago does not have cancer.”

Five lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Five seems too wired to sleep. He has the bit between his teeth and can’t let go. He told you that Santi’s fine but nothing else. It’s like trying to sleep next to a coiled spring. You turn over to face him.

“You don’t seem tired.”

“I need a good night’s sleep. I just can’t switch off.”

“Want me to help?”

"It's not really your area."

It’s not really a dismissal, just a statement.

"Maybe I didn't mean like that."

His eyes dart towards you. He thinks he knows what you’re getting at, but after skating on thin ice over the last week, he doesn’t want to assume.

“I’d be…grateful.”

For your part, you’ve been noticing him this evening. His eyes look bright, hard, intense. All his mannerisms became more pronounced as his inhibitions were swept away in the greater current of his roiling mind. His hands were shoved so deeply in his pockets that you were sure they’d rip. His characteristic forward lean had been so pronounced it was almost a bow.

He attracts you more than you’d wish considering his attitude right now, but now you’re willing to forget everything, even his caginess, just to be able to pleasure him. You don't want to think too hard about the implications of this.

Pushing down your conflicting feelings, you kiss his neck softly, burying your nose in his lower hairline and breathing in his smell. It makes your stomach flip; familiar, but intoxicating. You creep your mouth up to his ear and blow softly into the shell. When he still seems distracted, you glide the back of an idle hand down his naked chest and over his stomach as you run your tongue along his helix. This always makes him shiver and today is no different.

Having captured his full attention, you return your mouth to his neck and raise your hand to his nipples. He sighs, vocalizing a small moan as you stimulate the sensitive buds- rubbing first one and then the other to hardness. You switch your mouth’s focus, tongue coming instead to rhythmically flick each nipple with its tip while your hand caresses his neck.

His breathing becomes more expressive as your hand comes down beneath the sheets and beneath the sweatpants he sometimes likes to sleep in. He lifts his hips and pulls them down for you as you give his rapidly hardening length a gentle stroke, redoubling your efforts on his chest to get him there faster.

When he’s fully hard, you pump him softly, occasionally stopping to just stroke the head between your thumb and other fingers in the way that he likes, spreading the leaked precome over his swollen glans. When his little sounds of enjoyment become needy, you speed up. With a little hiss, he thrusts upwards, the muscles in his lower body flexing invitingly into greater prominence.

Before you can get him there, you know you want to taste him. You burrow under the sheets and take the head into your mouth, teasing the rim of his glans with the warm-wet pressure of your lips. He lets out a moaning sigh. You don’t intend to draw this out, but you can’t resist inching your mouth slowly down his length, making sure he can feel every moment before you take him to completion.

He throws the sheets back to look down at you with his whole dick in your mouth. You look up at him with the eyes that had first attracted him; their doe-like innocence in stark contrast with the situation

"Haaah…” he whispers, “make me come, you little cocksucker."

His hands come to the sides of your head, fingers as usual tangling in your hair.

Now you bob your head, focusing the flat of your tongue on stimulating the head while he’s inside you. You look up at him again; his eyes are half-lidded and mouth agape. Your mouth is making sloppy, wet sucking noises as you go down on him, your saliva leaking down his shaft. You can tell the sound and sight is turning him on just as much as the feeling.

"Fuuucck. You look so good down there. So good. You gonna swallow what I have for you?"

You want to swallow it. You don't care about anything else- not his disregard, not his dismissal, nothing. His moans become grunts and his hips rise off the bed. You add a hand into the mix, stroking the shaft in time with your mouth, now concentrated on the head. As your eyes meet his again, his hips jerk spasmodically and his grunts become a sustained roar. You keep it up as you feel him douse your waiting tongue with his milky-sweet seed.

The taste of him makes your nipples harden. You slow down slightly, knowing that his most intense orgasms become too much if you attempt to go hard with direct stimulation. With his voice subsiding into gasps, you milk and swallow all the come you can from him, greedy for it.

“Ah…stop”

You remove your mouth and give him one final, long stroke, just to make sure you got it all. You lick the last little bead from his opening- not willing to waste the tiniest drop. He sighs contentedly.

Is there a hint of smugness in his look, or is it your imagination?

"Mm. Thank you, dear one." he mumbles, rolling onto his side and enfolding you in his arms. As he strokes and kisses you, you come down from the high and stare into space. He rubs your hip.

"Can I...do you?"

"It's fine." you murmur.

"If you're sure?"

He sounds surprised, but only slightly.

In response to your confirmatory nod, he kisses you with lithe-lipped tenderness, stroking your cheek with light, loving fingers. He breaks the kiss slowly, looking at you with adoring eyes. Then he holds you to him again and relaxes into his post-orgasm euphoria, eyes closing.

"I love you so much." he whispers, sleep beginning to overtake him.

"I love you too."

He doesn't notice the slightly bewildered tone to your voice. What happened to your self-respect?

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh,@nevbrooke-555

Masterpost Alternatively, join me on AO3. Here is a link to the whole series

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queeniecook · 2 years ago

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April 20

Today I walked to the vet clinic to finish up preparing it for my maternity leave. It’s been a beautiful spring day today! I wanted to enjoy it.

I’ll admit, I’m beginning to waddle more and more but I think the walk today was good for myself and the baby.

Caleb appeared out of nowhere, like vampires like to do sometimes, to check in on me before I went inside. I am kind of emotional about officially handing over the reigns of the clinic to Zoe. I haven’t even been at the clinic much due to our recent babymoon vacation but this will make it more official.

I took time to check in on my other vet, Asaf. Being a Veterinarian can be stressful at times, I wanted to make sure he’s doing okay.

Zoe did her best to assure me everything will be fine while I’m away. We’ve had this conversation several times, the poor woman.

“I have to pee again and I’m burning up, I feel like a darn furnace even though everyone else is saying it’s still nippy outside, I can barely see my feet anymore and I really want a omelet covered in barbeque sauce right now.”

Zoe made the mistake of asking how I’m feeling.

Naturally, I got around to working. To my surprise, August brought in his and Aubree’s dog, Thor, for a checkup.

I personally sought to my best friend’s fur-son’s care. It was a nice treat to get to see someone familiar today. I kind of wonder if Aubree sent August and Thor to the clinic on purpose. That seems like something she’d do.

By the time the day was done, Caleb came to get me. He found me in the office, tired and crying. It’s hard for me to stay on my feet all day like I used to and today was my “last day” so to speak. I still plan to be on call up to delivery time.

“There’s some of your favorite ice cream at home and a bubble bath waiting for you.” Caleb assured me, holding me close to him. “I also did the dishes and laundry.”

“I love you so much!” I exclaimed through tears. He gathered me up into his arms and sped me home. Thank goodness for vampire strength and speed.

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neversoftied · 2 years ago

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excerpt from the fic i’m writing:

“Son of baconator mayo only…?” Emmeline repeated, the words sounding like a disgusted question. “Jesus, Pete.” She turned to Regulus and didn’t even get to speak before he was beginning his order.

“Four for four meal, no onion or mustard on the burger. Medium fries, large Sprite. And barbeque for dipping sauce.” His face stayed neutral, but he was staring intensely at Emmeline. As if daring her to judge his sauce preferences.

#emmeline vance #regulus black #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders era #marauders fic #jegulus #regulus and emmeline are friends

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abookishdreamer · 1 year ago

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Character Intro: Arktos (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nickname- Mama by her son

Age- 49 (immortal)

Location- New Olympus, Olympius (The Royal Palace)

Personality- She's a confident woman with a deep sense of independence & a thirst for challenging adventures. She's currently single.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess except shapeshifting. As goddess of the night sky & constellations her other powers/abilities include limited lunakinesis, umbrakinesis, limited aerokinesis, and summoning & controlling stars and constellations. She's innately stronger at night, even more on a clear night, when all the stars are out.

Arktos is the oldest member of The Horae. Per her responsibilities, she often takes the evening shifts at the palace's gift shop, also closing too.

One notable feature is her height. She's one of the shortest goddesses in the pantheon, standing a bit over 5 feet tall!

Arktos resides in an apartment suite at the royal palace on Mt. Olympus. Inside, most of the walls are built out of amethyst geode (the ceiling is moonstone) while the doors are made out of scolecite. Instead of traditional lighting there's projection lighting (her favorite being "starry sky mode") in addition to having string lights. Outside on her terrace stands her most prized possession- a highly sophisticated telescope made from materials from a meteorite, inlayed with tektite & Imperial Gold.

She has recently become an empty nester when her only child and son Urso (god of bears) moved out. They've always had a close bond, so she's been finding it difficult to give him his space while he focuses on being on his own for a while. They keep in contact through text & video chat. She has yet to be invited to his new place.

Arktos has an animal companion- a pegasus (a boy) named Sirius. He's her usual mode of transportation and a common pasttime od hers has been late night flights on Sirius when she can't find sleep.

Even though she values her friendships with all the other members of The Horae - she's a lot closer to Mesembria (Bria) (goddess of the afternoon), Auge (goddess of first daylight), and Gymnasia (goddess of exercise & gymnastics).

Because she normally sleeps in during mornings, Arktos will have a late breakfast. Go-tos for her include a steaming bowl of maple brown sugar oatmeal (topped with honey & dark chocolate chips) as well as the hash browns (made extra crispy) from The Hearthside Diner.

Another notable physical feature are the tattoos of all the constellations on both her arms & back. In her godly form, the tattoos glow white hot!

A go-to drink for her is a blueberry martini. She also likes cola, gin & tonics, lavender tea, water, ginger ale, rum & cokes, and the cocoa overload milkshakes from The Frozen Spoon (a dark chocolate milkshake topped two full sized chocolate brownies, chocolate fudge sauce, chocolate sprinkles, & chocolate whipped cream). Her usual from The Roasted Bean is a large dark chocolate mocha.

Arktos loves getting the dark barbeque rib sandwich (topped with extra coleslaw and feta cheese) from The Bread Box.

She loves the Olmorfia nail polish in "Graphite Sparkle," (a sparkly black) & "Midnight Mantra," (a dark navy blue).

For other means of income Arktos writes the horoscopes for The Oracle newspaper. She also models for/endorses Heavenly Spark, Stella Ferrea (The Hyades' jewelry brand), and ýfasma óneiro- the fashion brand of Rhapso (goddess of sewing)

In the pantheon she's also friends with Nárkosi (goddess of sedation), Asteria (Titaness of falling stars, astrology, magic, necromancy, & nocturnal oracles and prophecies), Hysminai (goddess of fighting & combat), Lycana (Titaness of lycanthropy), Selene (Titaness of the moon), and Eváeros (goddess of air & the zodiacs). Arktos admires Nyx (goddess of the night), despite never meeting her. Arktos was the official mentor towards Urania (muse of astronomy).

She's also grown fond of her son's girlfriend Lykos (goddess of wolves).

Her all time favorite dessert are the cinnamon brownies from Hollyhock's Bakery.

She hasn't been in a real relationship in nearly a century- her primary focus being her son & responsibilities. Arktos would partake in the occassional one night stand. She briefly dated Helios (Titan god of the sun). Lately she's been hanging out with Oreios (one of The Ourea). So far, she's been enjoying their friendship.

Her all time favorite meal is stifado along with roasted potatoes.

In her free time Arktos enjoys reading, binge watching TV (true crime, historical documentaries, & trashy reality shows being her faves), archery, basketball, astrology, football (soccer), listening to music, jogging, baking, and writing in her journal.

"The constellations are like a celestial canvas, painting a picture of the universe."

#my oc #oc character #my character #my oc character #oc intro #character intro #oc introduction #character introduction #modern greek gods #modern greek mythology #greek myth retellings #greek goddess #greek goddesses #greek mythology #greek pantheon #greek myths

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dennisdemori · 1 year ago

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Pepper-Honey Cedar Plank Salmon I live in Alaska and have 3 sons that love to fish. I have had to come up with some pretty creative ways to prepare salmon, this is by far my family and friends favorite way to eat fresh salmon. I soak an untreated cedar plank in water and bourbon while they are out fishing for the day and fix the barbeque sauce so that's it is ready to get grilling.....

#cedar #way #salmon #family #ways

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incorrect-scp-cb-quotes · 3 years ago

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Hi quick question do you have any headcanons about the main cast before they were contained/became SCPs? Like was 035 a living dude who got trapped in a mask or whether 096 was a normal human once?

HI YES. HERE:

- 096 was originally a child but Experimence(tm) or Anomalous Puberty(tm) happened and now its like he got stretched out in photoshop and given severe anxiety

- thats why im kinda adamently against shipping 096 with anyone

- 049 was also Some Dude at some point, but that was a REALLY long time ago. shit happened and he was like “hmm what if i experimented on myself to develop immunity against the black plague” and now hes just Like That

- The Young Man tale is 106’s backstory in THIS house. he was already kinda weird before but then got barbeque sauced

- 035 was the Black Lord of Alagadda, always a mask but has a corporeal not-quite-human “body” in Alagadda. some dude saw a mask and went “hmm what if we put a jester in that”

- i know 173 is canonically an AWCY? statue but i like to get metaphysical and therefore i declare that he’s always been there. not necessarily since the beginning of time, but like.. nobody can remember when he WASN’T there

- 079 is just some ai a guy made to crack an “impossible code” challenge in the 70s or so but then someone else cracked the code and 079 was sorta just.. thrown out

- 682 was also just Always There except physically. there since the beginning of time. just a funny immortal lizard that started hating humanity and made a deal with the scarlet king and now hes unkillable

- 999.. seventh son of the scarlet king. they were just born like that

- also 053 bc i want to: pretty normal! until she turned 3. then it was like a switch was flipped and BAM everyone hates her now. why? who knows! it is a mystery......

- 914 was always a machine. they just thought it’d be funny if they gained consciousness. so they did

- The 939s used to be little men. Just regular dudes born to Momther 939. but instead of puberty they all shed their skin and went feral

#the mod speaks #scp #scp foundation #headcanons #scp 096 #scp 173 #scp 106 #scp 049 #scp 035 #scp 079 #scp 053 #scp 914 #scp 939 #scp 682 #scp 999 #i know im probably missing some ppl but whatever #also not putting ones for 166 076 or 073 bc. not much to elaborate upon

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lirynxthebluegoblin · 3 years ago

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i'm here to talk about politics my dudes

specifically, the vaccine controversy

I'm very surprised that people think that a single injection is gonna give their kids a neurological disorder. You can't "catch" autism, because autism is something that you're born with, and is completely based on genetics

Am i telling you that if your child has autism you definetly have it, and that your doctor wasn't actually being petty and just putting it on your documents to call you "retarded"?

No. Of course not. I can't tell you if you have autism or not, i'm not a psychology major. But what i am trying to say here, is that "chemicals" can't alter your child's brain like that

"B-but, they put m-mercury in vaccines"

Jared, you consume a lot more mercury in your daily diet of microwaved fish-sticks and sushi dipped in barbeque sauce than you would if you took your goddamn tetanus shot. Besides, they don't even put mercury in vaccines anymore, because your wife's facebook group was whining so much about it, that they removed all traces of it from vaccines

And saying that you refuse to vaccinate your child because "vaccines cause autism" implies that you would rather have a sick, or dead kid over a completely healthy autistic one. And that makes me fucking sick. Especially considering that i'm autistic myself

To think that people still believe that being the parent of an autistic child is so bad as to be considered a curse, makes my blood boil. What is wrong with you? What is so terrible about having a neurodivergent kid? Is it the money you have to spend on therapy and special tutors? Is it just because they aren't as socially capable as a "normal" kid? Or is it because you'd be embarassed to admit that your child has autism? Embarassed to be seen with your own son or daughter in public because they're "defective"?

"I don't have the money to pay for little Timmy's therapy"

Oh yeah? Then how can you afford his school? How can you afford a car, or public transport to get him there? How can you afford a pediatrician? How the fuck can you afford all of that, but not have enough money for a therapist?

Either you really are in a miserable position right now, or you're just too prideful to admit your own greedyness and biggotry

I know i led my followers to believe that this was just another meme and slapped them in the face with all of this pent up rage, and i'm sorry for that

But i don't know what other way there is to get my posts any attention

My opinion isn't for everyone, and i know that. But if it is for you, it would make my day if you reblogged this

Thank you so much for your patience, and i hope all goes well for you today

Peace out

#tw opinions #tw potentially controversial topics #i wanna start a disscusion here #pro vaxx #pro having brain cells actually

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ghostpajamas · 4 years ago

Text

Danny Fenton loves his parents. he does, really! sure, he cringes when they tell him about their newest project, he chuckles under his breath when someone at school pokes fun at their latest failed attempt at catching Phantom, whatever. Danny Fenton loves his parents.

Danny Fenton hates the scientists, Madeline and Jack Fenton. well. hate is a strong word. fears? despises, for making his home life a live-wire of tension and a slip up from dissection? that about summed it up.

he was scared to step an inch out of line and his parents didn’t even know they’d drawn that line there. it was like he was doing a tightrope walk for a blindfolded audience. but, in this case, they'd kill him if he fell (if the fall didn’t first). Danny knew that, in all but the absolute best circumstances, this would not end well. he had no outside perspective on his situation though so all circumstances seemed risky at best. so he still kept up the walk.

he wasn’t one for psychological profiling. Jazz did it to him enough without his knowledge that he hardly needed to see a psychologist for that. he could just knock on her door and say "what’s wrong with me?" and she'd give him a bulleted list. maybe she'd even recommend coping methods. he was pretty sure he'd developed some kind of stress disorder over the years. any murmur, any loud noise, any hint of anger in a remark not even directed at himself, his brain would always so readily translate 'you made them mad. you're in for it now. they're after you now.' it was nauseating to sit through while his mind spiraled into a concealed panic. he would just sit there and wait to be attacked. the blows never came. he was still just regular, human boy, Danny Fenton. (for now.)

even before the distinct sizzle of an ectoblast, the smell of ectoplasm in contact with something it should not contact, became engrained into his instincts. even before then he was always a little...scared of his parents. maybe it was the goggles. or how they chose to hunt something they were so certain was a wholly malicious and incredibly dangerous race of being. maybe it made him nervous how easily his father's hugs could crush someone his size. How readily his mother pulled a gun when she suspected spectral activity. ’they’re perfectly harmless! These cant hurt humans at all, only ghosts, don’t worry, Danny!’

Danny dealt in a lot of maybe's these days. some nights when he would lie in bed, feeling like his heartbeat was maybe gone, he would hear what sounded like his name from his parents' mouths downstairs. then he would feel his heartbeat start again. maybe.

when did it happen, how every time you hear them speak about you, to you, you fear for the worse? (there were empty bottles of ibuprofen in his desk drawers, for migraines and the ache of fresh injuries.)

Danny understood deep down, this pressure had been building for years. (his parents' research was still far from the truth but going down a dangerous path in its misunderstanding.) it wasn’t a matter of if, he always felt it coming, a blurry shape on the horizon. it was when. - Maddie Fenton knows there is something wrong with her son. no, not in a mean way. he looks fine (usually), he acts friendly and normal (for him) and well. he's Danny! she's sure he's Danny. but sometimes he- he didn’t look like how she remembered.

day-to-day, he was her son, he looked exactly how he always did. but sometimes it was like he was someone entirely new. like over the last 3 years there had been an imperceptibly small change made every day and in those single, staticy moments, she could see the difference. maybe it was a trick of the light. maybe she had missed her son growing up, spending all her time on researching to the point that she paid no mind to her own family.

she was proud of her work. she loved her work so, so dearly. but- she still felt guilty when she'd notice ‘oh Danny’s so tall now’ (he's been this tall for years) ‘oh Jazzy's hair looks so nice tied up like that’ (she’s been wearing it that way for months). she had the constant aching pull in her gut, that she had missed her children growing up. that they went from babies to practically adults and now she hardly knew them because they didn't fill the role they used to.

it made her sick to think she needed her children to fill a role for them to feel like her children but, here she was.

there was a disconnect between them from so early in their childhood and it only grew when Danny entered highschool. she'd assumed at first that it was just a teenager thing, distancing oneself from your 'nutjob ghost hunter' parents and feeling rebellious. she knew she’d been wrong then but Maddie Fenton, though a seeker of knowledge, was stubborn in her feelings. rather, she didn't want to acknowledge what she noticed. she didn't want to examine what was wrong.

Maddie Fenton knows there is something wrong with her son. and shes scared, not of him, but what she'll have to do if she ever says it out loud. it would be real then. Maddie Fenton was scared of herself, and that made her sick. - Danny came home at 8 pm. his skin was blistered and his shirt was stained. brown-red blotches, a spray on his chest and sleeves, large drops dried around the neckline. the blistered skin; puffy, pink, and peeling on the back of his left hand, arm, fingertips- good god, what happened to him?

the question was on Maddie's lips when Danny spoke up instead. he'd closed the door behind himself in the time she'd taken evaluating his appearance. she'd forgot to even remind him what time it was.

"there was a grease fire at Nasty Burger. someone poured water on it." his tone was so much flatter than Maddie was used to from her son. no humourous lilt, just... empty. she felt like he wasn't even seeing her when he looked up. It was like he’d been reminded of something he’d have rather forgotten a long time ago.

"oh- oh no Danny, we've gotta get that arm patched up and- what's... the stuff on your shirt?" her words betrayed her discomfort but Danny showed no sign of minding her tone. (please don’t be blood. please d-)

"some sauce packets got squashed and sprayed all over me and Tucker. I think this is barbeque?" he scraped at the stain below his collar as he walked to the cabinet in the kitchen that a first-aid box was kept in (there were plenty in the house, most of which Maddie didn't remember buying but was grateful for nonetheless when she needed one).

she made a start to help with the box, knowing Danny’s hand was hurt, but he was already deftly applying antibacterial gel and wrapping the skin gently. he hardly even winced. Maddie felt a hollowness wash not over her, around. like fog rolling in, separating her from what she was seeing. she distantly wondered how often her son must get hurt to be so good at this. how often she didn't even notice he was in danger.

Maddie Fenton loves her son, her family means the world to her and she would protect them through hell and high water. but now she was realizing, through her instinct and her doubt- do I know my son? - Madeline Fenton loves her son. and she fears what she doesn’t know. - Danny Fenton loves his parents so, so much. and he's terrified of what he knows so very well.

#ghostpost #fic #danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #phic #im sorry for tense changes i have a vibe. i must do this to you

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

Note

I gotta know how Bucky's mom and sister reacted to learning that he only knew the reader for a couple days like that must've been so weird to explain when they showed up all lovey dovey as if they'd been together for months

I’m With You - Masterlist

“James seems really happy, doesn’t he?”

At the sound of Mrs. Barnes voice, Peggy glanced up from behind Steve’s shoulder as he meticulously counted through their won stack of Pictionary cards. He was muttering to himself, grumbling about how they should have gotten the card for ‘Fish in a Barrel’ if Bucky hadn’t said it as the buzzer was going off.

Mrs. Barnes was smiling as she watched you and Bucky in the kitchen, pulling more leftovers from the fridge and restocking the popcorn bowl. His arms were wrapped around your waist from behind, his chin tucked into your shoulder as you tried to shrug him off, laughing, tapping at his forehead, but he only held on tighter. He had on the kind of smile that wrinkled up by his eyes.

“I don’t think he just seems it. It’s been a while since any of us have seen him smile like that,” Peggy replied, his fingers scratching along Steve’s back to ease some of that overly competitive tension out of his shoulders. He started to relax a bit, as he always did.

“Been quite the weekend for him, huh?” Steve muttered under his breath off handedly as he kept his eyes trained on those cards like he just might count them again.

“Weekend?” Rebecca asked as she tossed another cracker into her mouth.

“Yeah, they met like two days ago on the flight down here,” Steve shrugged and Rebecca choked out Ritz dust until her mother provided her with a glass of water. That finally pulled away Steve’s attention from the game, and the look on Rebecca’s face – the wide eyes, the parted lips, the ‘I’m sorry, what?’ expression – had Steve sending an apologetic look in her direction. “Did you not know that?”

“How is that possible?” Rebecca gaped, taking another sip of water to wash down the cracker she’s nearly choked on. “Bucky is notoriously closed off and emotionally stunted.”

She glanced at her mother who was still watching you and Bucky in the kitchen heating up leftovers for the group. He kept trying to kiss your cheeks as you plated the meatballs and you finally resorted to brushing a glob of barbeque sauce on his nose.

“Does this not surprise you?” she asked her mother.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Barnes replied simply. She sighed, turning away from the kitchen to pat her daughter’s leg. “My son has always been a romantic. Perhaps not the version James who returned home from war, but the boy I raised believed in fairytales. He believed in love at first sight and soulmates. He knew love when he saw it and he wasn’t afraid of the fall.”

She rubbed at Rebecca’s knee, glancing back into the kitchen to find you scooping the sauce off his face with a suppressed giggle and giving in to finally kiss him sweetly on the mouth; the two of you laughing and teasing more than doing your job, but no one seemed to mind.

“He was different when he came home. Both times. Though, the second was worse because he lost you,” she continued to say, looking to her daughter.

Rebecca’s clenched her jaw, a wave of guilt washing over her face and Peggy quickly reached out for her hand and squeezed it lightly, a gesture she appreciated.

“This is the James I know,” Mrs. Barnes said fondly, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s waist until Rebecca’s head fell against her shoulder. Peggy found herself leaning into Steve. “So, no, I’m not surprised at all.”

Just then, you and Bucky made your way back into the living room, carrying trays of food and giggling under their breath, sharing glancing and blushes covering their cheeks. Bucky seemed to have noticed the sudden silence and the myriad of eyes staring in their direction as he slowly set down the food.

“What? You guys talking ‘bout me?”

“Only good things, my dear,” Mrs. Barnes replied with a wink, and though Bucky remained apprehensive, the smile quickly returned to his face as you curled up against his arm. He pressed a kiss to your hairline, a hand stroking gently along the outside of your thigh while the other reached for a fry and held it to your lips, which you accepted with a grin.

Even Rebecca began to see what her mother did.

Bucky Barnes was a man in love.

And he was loved in return.

Perhaps neither of you could admit that to yourselves quite yet, it all happening so quickly. But you had survived an emotionally draining weekend together, supported one another through heartbreak and guilt, saw parts of one another most couples didn’t venture to explore until months down the line. You skipped steps, sure, but it didn’t make your affection less valid.

Bucky reached for the timer, tossing a teasing challenge at Steve who looked about ready to throw hands if Peggy didn’t start tracing her nails down his spine. You were laughing, rubbing your hands together in anticipation. Mrs. Barnes was sitting back, drinking her tea and observing quietly.

And Rebecca? She was smiling. Hoping to make up for lost time.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine

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creampuffqueen · 5 years ago

Text

Deep in the Heart of Texas - One

a/n: So, because I have zero self control, I went and wrote the first chapter of the ToG southern AU I was talking about. I did this instead of doing online school, so I’d appreciate some feedback! I’ll probably continue this, but you know, support is nice. I think it’s also important to note that Aelin would absolutely rock a southern accent. So would Aedion. It would be so hot. Just... imagine it.

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is ready for the best summer of her life. She’s home from college for the summer, and so are all of her friends. Even her cousin is on a break from the military. Everything is set up to be perfect. Until... her mother decides to let the son of an old family friend stay with them while he grieves the loss of a loved one. And Aelin is not going to let a party pooper ruin her summer.

Rowan Whitethorn has just suffered the biggest loss of his life: the death of his long-time girlfriend, Lyria. His family is sick of him moping around his tiny New York apartment, so they ship him down south for the summer. The last thing Rowan wants is to spend his vacation in Nowhereville, Texas, but he has little choice. Not to mention, the only people his age seem to hate him. How on earth is he going to survive 3 months of this?

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is living the high life. She’s sitting in a chair outside in her backyard, beer in one hand, barbeque in the other. Her dog, Fleetfoot, is perched at her feet, just waiting for some scraps.

“So, little cuz,” Aedion says, sitting beside her. He reaches over to grab one of the ribs from her plate, but Aelin quickly slaps him away. “How was your junior year at A&M?”

“Pretty good.” Aelin concedes. She finishes off the rib she was eating and passes the bone to Fleetfoot, who immediately jumps to gnaw on it.

“How about you two?” Aedion addresses Aelin’s best friends and roommates, Lysandra and Elide.

“At least you two only have one more year.” Lysandra groans. “Next year I have to focus on getting into vet school.”

“You’ll make it, Lys.” Aelin assures her. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“I still have to get into medical school.” Yrene sighs from her own seat. “And Nehemia, you’ve got to get into law school.” Their other friend nods and rolls her eyes.

“And this is why I’m just getting a business degree.” Aelin chuckles. “Four years and I’m out.”

It’s so good to see her friends again. They’ve known each other since high school, but only Lys and Elide stayed back home in Texas for school. Nehemia got accepted into Harvard, which they all saw coming. Yrene managed to get herself all the way up to Washington State. As for Ansel and Nesryn, they moved out too, scholarships taking them far, far away.

Aelin missed her friends. It’s so good to have them back. And Aedion, too. By some miracle or another, he’s managed to have a break over the summer. His next deployment isn’t until September.

When Aelin pulls herself from her thoughts, her plate of ribs is noticeably smaller. And her cousin has the tell-tale stain of barbeque sauce on his chin.

“You prick.” Aelin sighs.

“You weren’t eating them!” Aedion laughs. “I’m not letting good barbeque go to waste.”

Aelin, being the mature adult she is, just sticks her tongue out at her cousin until he laughs so hard he chokes. She stands up and takes her plate, smacking him on the back as she does. Aedion just glares.

“I need more food. Any of y’all coming with?” Nehemia and Yrene take their plates and follow Aelin up to the long table where the food is being served.

Aelin’s parents are sitting in camp chairs nearby, laughing. Evalin has a margarita in hand, while Rhoe’s got a beer. When they approach, suddenly all three girls find themselves pulled into a conversation.

“Are y’all having fun?” Evalin asks, smiling.

“Definitely.” Nehemia laughs, ever the polite one. “Thank you so much for inviting us, Mrs. Galathynius.”

“Oh, of course.” Evalin gushes. “I couldn’t just throw a welcome home party for my daughter without inviting all her friends, now could I?”

Aelin attempts to shrug off her mother, but it’s no use. Evalin Galathynius has perfected her Southern charm, and of course Nehemia and Yrene are defenseless against it.

So her friends and mother chat, about life, college, relationships. Evalin even gets Yrene to confess she’s been keeping a long-distance boyfriend, and Aelin is pissed that her friend didn’t tell her first.

But she gets more food; barbeque, mostly, but she heaps some beans and a roll on as well.

“Save some room for banana pudding!” Her mother warns.

“Mom, I will always have room for banana pudding.” Aelin grins. Finally realizing that they don’t have any food on their plate, Nehemia and Yrene pull themselves away and pile their plates high.

By the time they get back to their group of chairs, Aedion has managed to down two whole beers. Ansel and Lysandra are arguing, (or flirting, Aelin can never tell), and Elide is scratching Fleetfoot’s ears as the dog chews on another rib bone.

“Mom’s bringing out the desserts soon.” Aelin alerts her friends. Lys perks up at her words, glancing back towards the house, where all the food is.

“Please tell me she made banana pudding.” Elide groans. “I haven’t eaten it in like, years. Your mom always made the best.”

“Okay, but your mom makes really good butter cake.” Aelin laughs. “I mean, it’s got enough fat to give you diabetes with one slice, but that’s a problem for another day.”

“Mom didn’t make any for the party, though.” Elide pouts.

Before Aelin can respond, three kids crash into their circle, laughing wildly. It’s Evangeline, Lysandra’s little sister, along with Hollin and Terrin, the younger brothers of Dorian and Chaol. Who, for the record, Aelin didn’t know were invited.

“Sorry!” Evie chirps. She stands up again and runs off, the younger boys chasing after her. Fleetfoot, done with her bone, jumps up and dashes after them with a bark.

Lys just rolls her eyes. “Kids.”

Beside her, Nesryn nods in agreement. “Kids.” Aelin spots Nesryn’s older sister, Delara, with the rest of her very large family. Delara has a baby on her hip, while the other three helions run circles around their mother’s feet. Nesryn’s younger cousins soon join in, creating a whirlwind of small children. Aelin has to look away; they’re making her dizzy.

This time Nehemia joins in, a huff of laughter on her lips. “Kids.” She points to her two little brothers, antagonizing Rhoe Galathynius by the house, likely begging for dessert to come out sooner.

“Well, as nice as this is, I don’t have any siblings, so I cannot relate. Sorry to burst your bubble.” Aelin’s comment gets a laugh from all around their circle, and soon everyone is back to eating food.

“Look! The pudding’s out!” Aedion shouts, and all the college-aged kids drop everything and sprint to the house, shoving each other out of the way. Nobody is getting between Aelin and her banana pudding.

“Hey! Slow your roll!” Evalin scolds. “There’s enough pudding for everyone. As long as you only take a small scoop. Aedion, I’m talking to you.” She fixes her nephew with a stare, and Aedion winces.

“Yes ma’am.” They all chorus. Satisfied with their manners, Evalin serves them all dessert.

She’s in the middle of scooping out Aelin’s portion when Rhoe appears, holding her phone. “Honey, someone’s calling.”

“I know how to use a phone, Rhoe.” Evalin sighs. She scoops Aelin a little bit more pudding and then takes her phone, letting her husband go on dessert-serving duty.

Aelin links arms with Elide, the two of them grinning madly before plopping down right there, next to the dessert, digging in with their spoons.

The rest of their friends are soon to follow, and Aelin doesn’t miss how Lysandra chooses to sit a little bit closer to Aedion than is probably socially acceptable.

She chooses to ignore it, however, and instead focuses on interrogating Yrene.

“How long have you had a secret boyfriend for?” She demands.

“When I came home for Christmas.” Yrene laughs. “We went to the Havilliards’ party and I met him there.

The Havilliards, some of the most prominent people in their little cluster of small towns, have a reputation to battle even the Galathyniuses. And the Ytgers, for that matter. Their parties attract attention from all over, which was how Aelin’s friend group met each other.

Aelin and Elide had grown up practically as sisters, though Elide lived one school district over, in the neighboring town of Perranth. Orynth was the largest city in their area of South Texas, holding a whopping 10,000 people.

That was whopping to Aelin, at least. Elide’s town, Perranth, had around 8,000, with Rifthold nearby being 9,000. All the other towns that their friends lived in had even less than that, the smallest being Caraverre, Lysandra’s town, with barely 1,000 people.

The Havilliards, being the socialites of tiny Rifthold, have parties all the damn time. They even let their eldest son, Dorian, host wild gatherings of drunken teenagers.

Aelin and Elide, barely seventeen, had managed to sneak into one of these elusive parties. They’d met Lys, Nesryn, Ansel, Nehemia, and Yrene, although the last girl was only there because her friends dragged her there and then abandoned her. Some friends, they were.

“Okay, that doesn’t give us any clue as to who he is.” Lys points out, pointing her spoon at Yrene. “Everyone and their cousin goes to the Havilliards’ parties.”

“Chaol Westfall.” Yrene giggles. Aelin nearly spits out her banana pudding.

“Him?!” She yelps. Yrene’s laughter turns hysterical.

“Yes! Chaol Westfall is my boyfriend.”

“He’s here, though.” Ansel adds. “Why aren’t you over there with him?”

“Because I missed y’all.” Yrene says. “I haven’t seen y’all since summer last year. None of you came home for Christmas.”

“Too busy.” Aelin, Elide, and Lysandra say in unison. Yrene rolls her eyes.

Other people come for dessert, and Aelin scoots away as one of Nesryn’s nieces tries to peek over her shoulder. Delara scolds her and drags her away, and the whole group bursts into laughter.

Aelin looks up, seeing her father still serving. That’s strange, where is Evalin?

She sees her mother, standing on the porch of the house, hand over her mouth. Something’s wrong. Evalin’s porcelain face is ashen, the color drained from her cheeks. Aelin thinks she can see tears.

Before anyone can ask what she’s looking at, Aelin’s jumping up and rushing to her mother, bounding up the steps two at a time. She nearly crashes into her uncle’s rocking chair, but stops at the last second. Evalin hardly looks up.

“Of course. Of course he can stay here. For as long as he needs. Yes, please, send him my love. I’m so sorry.” Aelin catches Evalin’s eye, who holds up a finger, gesturing for her to wait.

When she finally hangs up, she just lets out a long sigh, putting the phone on the porch railing.

“Do you remember the Whitethorns, Aelin?”

The question catches her off guard, but Aelin nods, anyway. “I do. Sellene and Enda, mostly. And… there was another one, right?”

Evalin just hangs her head. “Yes. Rowan, that’s the other one. Poor boy, his girlfriend just died in a car accident.”

Now it’s Aelin’s turn to put her hands to her mouth. “Oh Lord.” She hardly remembers the Whitethorns, just that she met them a few times when she was young. She remembers that Enda and Sellene were nice and would play with her, while Rowan hung back, always saying mean things to her. She remembers Aedion beating him up one time, too.

Still, just because he was rude to five-year-old Aelin doesn’t mean he deserved this tragedy.

“If you call Mrs. Whitethorn again, please tell her I’m so sorry for their loss.” Poor Rowan.

“Well, here’s the thing, Aelin.” At Evalin’s tone of voice, Aelin knows she’s about to say something she won’t like. “Mrs. Whitethorn is very worried for him. They’re so busy up there, you know, they don’t always have time to check in on him. So… she asked if we would let Rowan stay down here for a bit.”

“Mama!” Aelin sighs. “I feel bad for the guy, but that doesn’t mean he has to come and live with us! All of my friends are down here! I don’t want him ruining my summer vacation.”

“Don’t you start sassin’ me, young lady.” Evalin snaps, her accent coming out in full force. “How can you be so heartless? Rowan is grieving.”

Aelin feels like a kid again, getting sent to her room for giving her mother attitude. So she relents before she gets embarrassed in front of the entire town of Orynth. And then some.

But she’s in a pissy mood, now. Of course she feels bad for him, but not that bad. Not bad enough to let him stay in her house over the summer. For all she knows, Aedion could be deployed all next summer. Lysandra might not be able to come home, being to busy getting ready for vet school. This could very well be their last summer together.

And Aelin Galathynius will not let Rowan Whitethorn ruin her summer.

~~~~

Rowan Whitethorn steps out of the Uber, taking in the sight of the small town. He’s flown into Houston, Texas from Doranelle, New York, and it’s cost him a stupid amount of money to get a car to take him all the way down here. They don’t even have taxis in this god-forsaken state.

Though, to be fair, it’s partially his own fault. His flight had gotten moved up, and he’d forgotten to text Evalin Galathynius the new time after she insisted she’d pick him up from the airport.

As the Uber pulls away, Rowan takes a long minute to glance around. He’d seen the sign as they’d driven in, had nearly felt his eyes bulge out of his head when he saw ‘Population: 10,000’.

He fingers the strap of his backpack, taking in the scenery. He’s in what must be a public park, but why anyone is outside is beyond him. It is so fucking hot outside.

However, the park is full. A pair of mothers with strollers, chatting as they walk along the park trail. Kids play on a playground in the distance. And a couple, seated at one of the picnic tables, have their hands clasped.

Rowan looks away at that.

There wasn’t any place he could go, or that his parents could ship him off to, where he could just forget about Lyria. She’d been the love of his life. When he had a bit more money saved up he was going to ask her to marry him. He wanted to start a family with her.

And it seems like she haunts him, because no matter where he looks there is something that reminds him of her.

Rowan sighs deeply, starting to walk. He needs to be away from this place, with so many… people. And he needs to get inside somewhere, away from the oppressive heat. How anybody manages to live in this weather is beyond him, being born and raised in New York.

He observes the town as he walks, taking in the architecture, the style. It looks fairly modern, save for the houses. The houses all look like miniature versions of that house from Gone with the Wind. The movie, of course. He didn’t bother to pick up the book.

This tiny town seems as if it’s been permanently frozen in time… in the Civil War era.

Rowan goes back to walking, searching for a store or something where he can step inside for a minute, pull out his phone, and turn on Google Maps. However, as he approaches the little chain of shops, he’s stopped by a slightly older woman.

“Are you visiting someone, dear?” She asks, smiling broadly.

“Uh, yeah.” He replies awkwardly. Why is she talking to him? Back in New York, it’s pretty much every man for himself. You find your own way or you don’t. Nobody ever offers help.

“Where are you headed?” She’s still smiling, and that puts Rowan on edge.

“Um, I’m looking for… Evalin Galathynius? Do you know her?”

The woman’s face lights up. “Oh, yes, I know her. You’re gonna want to walk down that street right there, then take a left at the blue house, keep going until you reach the small park, then-”

Rowan doesn’t know what to say. Her instructions drone on, and he just can’t pay attention that long. He’ll just take out his phone when the lady leaves.

“You got all that, sweetie?” Rowan jolts back to the present.

“Yeah, thanks.” She smiles, and keeps walking. Rowan lets out a sigh, and pulls out his phone, plugging in the address to Google Maps.

Fifteen minutes of walking. Rowan looks up, at the sun beating down on him. This is going to suck, isn’t it?

~~~~

Rowan holds a scowl as he finally makes it to the Galathynius house. Carrying both a backpack and dragging along a suitcase in the sweltering Texas heat is not doing good things for him.

He’d also gotten lost multiple times, even with the help of Google Maps, meaning he’d nearly doubled his walking time. All he wants to do now is to go inside somewhere they have some goddamn air conditioning.

Rowan drags his suitcase up the porch steps, nearly panting. He’d sweated through his shirt, which had only added to the awful heat.

There isn’t a doorbell; or not one he can see, anyway, so he knocks on the front door, hard.

He hears a muffled “I’ll get it!” before the door swings open to reveal a young woman, golden hair tied up in a messy bun.

Her expression turns suddenly sour as she takes him in, her turquoise eyes glaring. “Are you Rowan?”

“Yeah.” He says. “Sorry I didn’t let you know, but my flight got pushed up.”

“That’s what I thought. You weren't supposed to get here until this evening.” She sighs and opens the door. “Come inside.”

Rowan does so gladly, smiling as the cool air kissed his sticky skin. “Is your mom home? You look too young to be Mrs. Galathynius.”

“My name is Aelin.” She says. She doesn’t offer her hand to shake, just keeps walking further inside. “Do you want me to show you your room?”

“Sure.” Rowan follows Aelin through the house, marvelling at how… large it is. And, he’d noticed as he’d approached, it was on a massive piece of land, as well.

Aelin walks quickly through the house, pointing out a few things like the kitchen, dining room, living room. They come upon a large staircase, and she bounds up them. Rowan sighs and goes to dragging his suitcase upstairs.

Aelin even has the audacity to look annoyed at him for being so slow. Rowan resists the urge to snap at her. He’s exhausted, and just wants to lay down somewhere and sleep.

Aelin leads him down a long hallway, and points to one of the doors. “That’s your room. And the bathroom’s right there.” She gestures to another door across the hall. “All the other rooms are occupied right now, so no snooping.”

Rowan doesn’t answer, just nods. Stepping inside the room, he can’t help but notice how big it is. Just like this entire house, it’s giant. He’s got a four-poster bed, plush carpet on the floor, a dresser, and a closet. It’s more luxurious than anything he’s ever had.

He doesn’t bother to unload his stuff. Sleep is pulling at him, making his eyes heavy. So he quickly pulls off his sweaty shirt and collapses on the bed, sinking into the mattress.

He’s gone quickly, but right before he falls asleep, one last thought materializes in his head.

Lyria would have loved it here.

#throne of glass #tog #sarah j maas #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aedion ashryver #lysandra ennar #elide lochan #yrene towers #nehemia ytger #ansel of briarcliff #nesryn faliq #galathynius family #chaol westfall #dorian havilliard #tog southern au

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leviathan-dee · 4 years ago

Text

DMC Week 2020: Day 6: You Belong Here

(Here’s another small wholesome piece. I really wish we had more interactions with the entire crew in DMC, but the community provides enough to sate that need for wholesomeness). (All prompts were used for day 6). (Alcohol mention, and one use of a curse word lmao).

Family was never a word that Dante had to use too often in his vocabulary. Decades of separation and neglect seemed to stretch, until he finally found where he belonged; in this drunken celebration with his slightly dysfunctional family.

Word Count: 1,755

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, Kyrie, Trish, Lady, Nico

Read On AO3

The scorching July sun seemed to boil every living being which dared step foot outside, merciless rays beating down upon the Earth. Whoever escaped the confines of their four walls were bound to become crispy at the sheer thought of the sun. There were, however, some fools who tempted fate, and proceeded to have an entire barbeque outside.

The Spardas, alongside the Devil May Cry crew, were said fools.

Of course, no one could deny Kyrie, the kindest, most gentle creature to ever grace the planet, a day outside. Especially during a celebration. Especially on a pregnant Kyrie’s birthday.

It was July tenth, the weather being arid and overly vacant of any breezes. This only made the heat far more excruciating. Kyrie didn’t seem to feel the blazes, her skin absorbing the rays to form a honeyed tan which complimented the amber glimmer in her eyes. Whereas Nero, unfortunately, panted like a rabid dog. His skin seemed to turn scarlet at the mere thought of summer. Evidently, the situation turned even worse for the boy since he had to man the barbeque, grilling burgers, as well as sausages, meanwhile being inevitably covered in helix coils of smoke. His beloved watched him apologetically, whilst he continued to sweat up a storm, beckoning the children to pick up their mouthwatering meals.

Dante sat beside an orchard, the apple trees being a godsend for shade in his time of need. Although the Sparda twin could withstand blazing temperatures, it was only for a short period of time; Not an entire day. Brushing his white, sweat-soaked locks away from his brow, Dante grabbed the neck of the beer bottle, letting the bubbles gently glide down his throat. He basked in the sensation for what seemed a whole eternity, whilst the sound of bickering and giggling children filled his ears. It was blissful, to say the least. To feel like he belonged. To have family.

He had hoped Verge felt the same about this reunion.

Thinking about his twin brother, Dante turned to the blue devil, noting that Vergil’s usual scowl was wiped clean off of his visage. Instead, his face was soft, bereft of any tension. He seemed… happy. Relaxed. It was refreshing to see. Albeit his quiet nature, the elder twin continued to lift the corners of his lips, reacting to the children, as well as Nico’s vulgar comments and Kyrie’s deathly glares at the gunsmith. Trish and Lady were the other pair to cause a ruckus, making Vergil smirk anytime they were told off by Nero for using non-family friendly language at the dinner table.

“Aww shit, we’re out of ketchup.” As a slightly intoxicated Lady let the curse word slip, she squeezed the condiment bottle harder, making it spurt out a less-than elegant bowel movement noise, and a pathetic dollop of tomato sauce. The children fell into hysterics, Nero and Kyrie unsure of whether to reprimand the woman, or giggle alongside the kids.

Dante continued to watch the spectacle, a warmth blooming in his chest.

Vergil was happy. In turn, so was his younger brother.

“So, Verge, enjoying yourself?” Sipping on liquid courage, Dante turned his head to his twin.

“Hmm. It appears as though I am.” The blue devil assumed a somewhat distant stare, turning his gaze towards his busy son at the grill. His eyes softened at the sight of Nero. If there was a trace of bittersweetness in Vergil’s expression, it came and went almost instantly. However, Dante knew him better than anyone, and could recognise his elder brother’s ghosts of guilt and regret quickly.

As a sudden breeze eased the tension of blanketing heat, Dante sighed, and recalled a nostalgia fueled memory.

“Remember when mum and dad brought all of their friends to the manor for a barbeque? We ended up playing with the other kids, whilst the grown-ups got drunk?” The scarlet devil sucked air in through his teeth, the memory almost too painful to relive. Vergil recoiled at the sudden recollection.

“I reminisce about those days often.”

“You were a damn sprightly kid, Verge. Always running off and hiding to read. Me and the others had to search for you, only to find you up on that gnarly tree, chomping on some apple.”

Dante continued with the mental memoir, his lips curling upwards. He could almost hear the voices of the children and Vergil’s adamant refusal to climb down. He could smell the delectable cuisine of his father's famous burnt burgers and his mother’s soft laughter. Even the gentle grass lapping at his ankles was as vivid of a memory as the display of giggling children before him.

“And now…” Dante inhaled deeply, a ghost of a bittersweet smile gracing his lips, “now we’re the ones sitting, getting wasted, whilst the kiddos play.”

“What are you getting at, Dante?” Vergil uncrossed his arms, running his fingers through his hair, a tell-tale sign of either annoyance or discomfort. Dante simply waited to collect his thoughts, the image of past times being too much. In retaliation to the thoughts, he inhaled the scent of sweetened smoke, inching himself to the empty seat beside Vergil. He let out an almost elderly sigh as he landed in the chair before continuing earnestly.

“We made it, Verge. We've come full circle.”

Vergil's reforming thoughtful brow wrinkle made its famous comeback, his mind processing Dante's statement.

So they did come full circle.

Dante was so adamant on having something dear to hold onto, he was finally rewarded with a family. Finally rewarded with what he longed for since he was eight years old. Though it was a screwed up little group with issues that would take a few more decades to sort out, it was his family. Vergil was very much a part of that family. It warmed every cold crevice of the blue devil’s beating heart, the melodic rhythm becoming even prouder.

"Christ, Vergil. You have a son, can you believe it? In fact, you're going to have a grandkid. You're going to be the youngest looking gramps to have ever lived." Dante attempted to pinch his brother’s cheek, earning him an irked scoff, alongside a hearty slap to the back of the head. It seemed as though they returned to their youthful selves, ignoring the wrinkle lines that arose with age, and the exhaustion inflicted violet splodges beneath their eyes.

They were kids again, trying their best to catch up on the lost years of brotherly bickering.

...

The air began to cool off as the evening drifted. Nero was unchained from his duties, sipping a chilled beer, pleased hums and sighs resounding from his chest. Kyrie cuddled into Nero’s side, the both of them entangled behind the table. Viewing the spectacle, Dante turned to Vergil once more.

"I think mum and pops would be proud." The statement came out of the blue, yet did not startle the blue devil. Instead, his visage was graced with a saccharine smile, the type that Dante had rarely seen in the man. In fact, it was only witnessed during their eventful, albeit brief, childhood.

"Hmm… I hope so." Sighing, contentment written all over Vergil’s features, he craned his neck up to the trees, breathing in the tender breeze of the summer evening.

Dante continued to reminisce about his nephew, and the love of Nero’s life. Seeing the shy ‘couple’ back in Fortuna, he never anticipated to witness this decade-long result; A great-nephew. Kyrie seemed to glow as she nuzzled into her beloved’s side, with a five month bump becoming a prominent addition to her frame. It was a wondrous thing to Dante, knowing that their little dysfunctional family was ever-expanding. The fuzzy feelings appeared to bloom at an exponential rate, which the scarlet devil attempted to gulp down with bubbling alcohol.

He was proud of them. Proud of the tiny group. His family.

A boisterous Nico interrupted any thoughts, eclipsing the view of the couple with her presence.

"So, 'nother beer for ya, gents?" She offered to provide more drinks, with Dante gladly accepting and Vergil politely declining. Whilst the Spardas’ intoxication was low, Lady and Trish were completely sloshed. Their joyous dancing was evidence of the fact.

Nico turned to the middle of the garden where the pair were swaying their arms about as if they were attempting to fend off mosquitos.

“Lady is gonna regret all that booze in the morning. Not sure ‘bout Trish though.” As the young gunsmith twirled on her heels to approach Nero and Kyrie, the dancing pair of intoxicated women began to beckon Dante.

“Hey! Give us your iconic MJ dance!” Trish slurred not a single word, Dante noting that she was playing the drunk to accompany Lady.

“C’moooon Mr. Sparda. Please?” Lady, however, slurred every word. It wasn’t often she had the time or the energy to let loose, so the evening was some well deserved alleviation of pent up stress and frustration. In the distance, Kyrie giggled at Lady’s tipsiness, earning the birthday girl an amorous peck on her button nose from Nero.

The scarlet devil stood from his seat whilst giving Nico an impish smirk, before summoning Dr. Faust into his palm. It appeared as though the cowboy hat materialised from countless twinkling coils of demonic energy. Nico returned his mischievous smile with her own, silently fist bumping the air. Nero simply sighed and clicked his tongue, mirroring his father’s own mannerisms of annoyance and exasperation.

“Not again…”

“YES AGAIN! HIT IT, DANTE!” Nico joined in on the two buzzed women on the garden dancefloor. As a natural performer, Dante swished the headpiece upon his crown, assuming a pose that could wow the crowd.

For hours, the party continued, each member of the crew joining in on the song and dance. Even Vergil pranced into the centre, grabbing a wasted Lady to waltz with him. Toasts were made, followed by treasured tears trailing alongside the speeches, each word weighing the world. Their love for each other, and this little makeshift family, could not be altered or demolished in any way possible. For each of these members lost someone close to them. Whether it was a father, a mother, a brother, or their entire livelihood. They ultimately found a group of like-minded individuals to fill the void. Nothing could separate them.

‘You belong here’ a tiny cherished voice uttered in the back of Dante’s mind. For the first time in decades, he was happy. He felt like he belonged.

Hell, he did belong.

And nothing could change the fact.

#dmcweek #dmcweek2020 #devil may cry #dante #vergil #lady #nero #kyrie #trish #nico

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