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idiotwithanipad · 5 months ago

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The Return Of The Rat (Pt2)

Amy (My OC) finds out about a new guest at the hotel who has no right to come back, especially after what his past self had tried to do, and what he lied about. Along the way, discovering new, frightening things about herself.

(TW: Implied Child Abuse, Scars, Paranoia)

The singing birds outside the windows stirred the Tudor’s head from his sleep. His eyes cracked open and blinked a few times to adjust to the abrasive sunlight. Remarkably, as his eyes flicked over towards the four post bed, he realised that his detached body remained there, all through the night.

Its cloak still rested atop the young girl, still sleeping. It seemed that the body came to life shortly after its head did, the slumped shoulders straightened as it sat up straight and stood up.

“Psst! Oi! Over ‘ere!” Humphrey whisper shouted to his bumbling body.

It seemed as though today was the day for surprises, as the body turned to face him still lying in the small chair by the window. It approached and bent down to retrieve its head, wedging it back into its shoulders with a click.

Humphrey flexed his jaw and held his hands out for balance at first, but the vertigo soon passed. He approached Amy, still sleeping soundly on her side, about to wake her. But he couldn’t bring himself to stir her when he noticed the peaceful state she was in.

He gave a soft smile and turned slowly on his heel to leave the room, still acting as though one misstep would cause a floorboard to creak and risk waking her. He passed through the East Wing bedroom door and stepped down the corridor idly.

In the reception area, some staff were already at work, typing at the computer at the front desk, fluffing the cushions on the lobby sofas, dusting slightly with cloths.

“Ah! Mooorning” Humphrey greeted with a happy wave. He knew they couldn’t see him, or hear him, but he still liked to show manners for the livings taking such good care of the building; to think, just a few years ago, the place was on the brink of collapsing.

If there was one thing Humphrey could look back on his life and take pride of, it was the fact that he never mistreated or abused any servants employed the estate as an adult. Even as a boy he would sneak bread and cuts of meat from the dinner table and bring them to the servant’s quarters for them to eat.

A young stable boy, probably a year or two older than Humphrey at the time, would try to hide whenever the young nobleman would pass. But in time, the two boys struck up a secret bond, often running about the stables and climbing the orchard trees. The pair took childish delight in their names being similar; Humphrey and Godfrey.

After Humphrey would finish off his daily teachings, he would sneak away to the kitchen to snag a couple of tarts from Cook while her back was turned and flee to the stables. Godfrey almost looked shellshocked every time Humphrey snuck him something from the kitchen.

But one day, they were caught out. Both boys sitting steadily in an apple tree in the orchard, laughing at a crow as it bathed itself clumsily in the lake. One of the butlers had approached furiously and stomped his shoe into the soil.

“Godfrey! What on God’s green earth are you playing at, boy?!”

The two boys spun their heads and looked down at the furious butler, Godfrey stuttering and trembling as he descended the tree.

“T’was only a jape, sir…” Young Godfrey tried to reason, his freckled face arching low in shame.

“It was my idea, Terrance” The young nobleman piped up, readily descending the tree himself. The butler switched his vision to Humphrey, almost flabbergasted.

“Young Master Bone. Return to your father at once!”

Before young Humphrey could muster an apology to Godfrey, the butler, who’s aging face now grimaced in furry and took on the appearance of a twisted root, gripped Godfrey about the wrist and dragged him back to the stables.

Humphrey was punished that day too, his nose wouldn’t stop bleeding for an hour, but that mattered little to him. Unfortunately, Humphrey would never see poor Godfrey again, and neither did he find out what became of him. Though he feared the worst. Since then, Humphrey vowed to himself that no butler, nor servant, nor stable hand would be mistreated during his nobility; each would be well fed, each would have access to lengthy breaks and each would be payed weekly.

Even in death he remained the same. Congratulating and praising even the most trivial things; it could be someone placing down a set of cutlery, and he'd give it a round of applause.

A young staff member approached a table and set down a vase of fresh flowers, Humphrey watched as she mopped her slightly sweaty brow from the morning warmth.

"Ooh, these are lovely. Brightens up the place, 'dun it?" Humphrey smiled to the woman who never looked at him and who walked back from whence she came.

He watched as a banner was erected above the fireplace.

'Bake sale for charity'

Humphrey rose his eyebrows curiously; this would cause a lot of chatter amongst the group for sure. He just hoped he could stay whole for the day.

Speaking of which, where were they all? The Tudor turned briskly and headed through the house. Unsurprisingly, his ghostly friends remained jammed in the Ball Room discussing which summer activity was best. Humphrey cleared his throat, hoping they'd notice his arrival.

Their chattering stopped as they each turned to look at Humphrey, their faces beaming in surprise.

"Humphrey, you're whole again!" Kitty smiled joyfully.

"Ah, Humphrey. Good to see you back on your shoulders" Cap grinned; the two had often joked that instead of saying 'back on your feet', it would probably be more appropriate in Humphrey's case to say 'back on your shoulders' for obvious reasons.

Humphrey gave a mocking flutter of his wrist.

"Did it all by me'self an' all" He boasted with a cheeky grin.

"Good on ya', mate. Eh- Amy didn't help at all?" Pat chirped.

"No, no. She's 'aving a lay-in. She's still in her room asleep. First time she's slept all week" Humphrey replied. Fanny gasped and practically staggered back.

"What?! Still sleeping at this hour? It's almost eight o'clock! A lady should rise early!" She barked. You could practically hear everyone's eyes roll at her comment.

Robin perked up and huffed, mischief blooming on his face. He rose from his spot on the floor and scampered over to the wall, about to pass through.

"Ah! Don't you dare" Humphrey pointed.

Robin froze in his spot and growled in irritation before plodding back over to where he had sat. Humphrey lowered his arm and nodded.

"Thank you... Anyway, d'you know there was a bake sale goin' on down there?" Humphrey asked, tossing his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the door.

The group looked amongst each other happily, and Kitty rushed out immediately to get to the Reception. Everyone sped after Kitty to see the display of cakes, but Robin approached Humphrey casually.

"You know... Might want wake up Stompy before she wake up herself" The caveman said, wincing slightly.

"Why? She's been knackered lately" Humphrey explained. Robin leaned closer.

"I remember time when daughter of mine, Pin, she get scared because I got scratch on arm from fight. She wake up and cry because she think I not there, she think I die and go away" Robin explained, pulling down the furry covering at his elbow just enough to show a faded yet very deep scar running down the length of his forearm.

"After 'doption day thing, she might think you really go-..." Robin finished with a flourish of his hands up to the sky. Humphrey's eyes followed Robin's hands upwards before realizing what he meant.

"Yeah-yeah you're probably right actually..." Humphrey agreed.

Robin gave a slight nod and patted Humphrey on the shoulder as he passed, slipping through the wooden door and out into the hallway. Humphrey decided to save some time and pass through the walls to get back to the East Wing. Amy still lie on her side, asleep with the hood over her head. Peaceful as ever. Humphrey hated having to wake her up, but what Robin had said made him begin to second guess himself and avoid anymore stress for Amy.

He petted her hooded head softly and whispered.

"Amy? Poppet? Time to wake up now". Amy stretched her curled legs out and cracked her eyes open. She grimaced at the sunlight which bounced off the wall behind Humphrey.

"Ugh...fuck sunlight..." She groaned as she rubbed at her eyes.

"Come on, rise and shine" Humphrey mused, patting her shoulder. Amy sat up and pulled the hood down from her head sloppily. She glanced over at Humphrey, quickly registering the fact that the Tudor was now attached again.

"Oh shit. You're whole again?" Amy smiled, dropping her legs off the side of the bed, her four inch platforms swinging above the floor. Humphrey smiled and stood back.

"I know. He came back last night and ACTUALLY stayed. Makes a change. Anyway, he picked me up and put us back together, so...ta-da" Humphrey mused.

Amy got down from the bed and headed over to him.

"Makes a change for you to wake me up" Amy smiled.

The two made their way downstairs to watch the livings place trays of muffins and cakes onto the tables. Everyone else had already flocked around a chocolate lava cake.

"Fuck yeah, they got Red Velvet!" Amy gasped, heading over to a lone table in the corner. Her mouth practically watered at the smell of it. It was her second favourite type of cake, the first being an old fashioned Cherry Bakewell tart. It HAD to be Mr Kipling, or I just didn't hit the same.

Humphrey headed over to the table behind Amy and stared at the delicious looking frosting.

"I bet if I were a cake, I'd look like that one" Humphrey smiled. Amy let out a breathy laughs and glanced over at him.

"You would. I'd probably be an out of date bagel" She commented on herself.

Some loud chatter came from beyond the windows, two men. Humphrey turned to see what the fuss was about and noticed a pedestrian assisting another to parallel park. The man's voice was loud, authoritive, yet meek. Humphrey could've sworn he'd heard a voice like that before.

The rest of the room's chatter and glee faded away as he ventured towards the window, his eyes fixed on the man beckoning the driver to reverse a little more. That voice, he knew it.

"Wish you could've tried- Humphrey?" Amy began, quickly noticing the Tudor's absence and spotting him by the window, looking outside. Amy walked over and stood beside him, also catching eye of the two men.

"What's up? They making a pig's ear or that parking?" Amy asked, mostly to see if they in fact WERE making a pig's ear of it, but also to avert Humphrey's focused and sullen gaze from the bearded man now motioning for the motorist to stop.

"No- it's just-...I could've sworn I'd heard that voice before..." He replied, never averting his eyes from the man.

"I remember that tone, that shout...".

Amy narrowed her eyes in confusion and concern, fixing her gaze onto the man now moving away from the car and towards the door.

Humphrey stepped around Amy and approached the man, his eyes scanning every detail of his face, searching.

Amy watched as Robin also rose his face from a tray of jam tarts and began sniffing at the air. He turned to face the man also, his nostrils flaring as he stepped beside Humphrey.

"You recognize 'im?...He seems familiar..." Humphrey asked. Robin squinted and jutted his jaw.

"Dunno. But, smells familiar. Caught that scent long time ago, but- can't put finger on it"

It was only after the other man, the one driving the car, had entered the Reception, did Humphrey put two and two together. The two men began talking again, and the familiar voice rang clearer than a church bell right above his head.

His face whitened as he took a few steps back, Robin watched as the Tudor backed up and passed by Amy.

"Humphrey, what is it? You look like-" Amy began, before Humphrey's hand clutched at her's and began to tug her away from the stranger.

"Woah, woah, hey! What's going on?" Amy barked. Humphrey swallowed and tightened his fingers around Amy's slight wrist.

"C'mon- back to your room, Poppet. Now" Humphrey muttered, his eyes still fixed on the idle man.

Amy looked back to Robin, but the caveman looked just as confused as her.

"Humphrey, WHAT is going on-?"

"Your room, now" Humphrey spoke, authorative and stern, a huge change from what was the norm for him.

Amy knew when to shut up and listen, and reluctantly turned her back to Robin and the cake trays and headed back up the stairs towards the East Wing, Humphrey following close behind, peering over his shoulder every second.

#bbc ghosts #humphrey bone #original character #amy #amy bone #robin the caveman #larry rickard

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geesbpdjournal · 5 months ago

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I FORGOT TO DO MY ABOUT ME SO HERE WE GO!!!

Name: Gee

Pronouns: He/They

Age: 19

Interests: music, painting (new hobby!!!), crystals!, choir

Sexuality: queer and monogamous! (also happily in a relationship:).)

When did I get my diagnosis: about a year ago now !

Musicians I like: twenty one pilots, hozier, amy winehouse, childish japes, my chemical romance, muse, etc!

Shows I like: good omens, under the bridge, attack on titan, etc.!

Games I like: Minecraft, Stardew Valley, A Little to the Left, Undertale, Deltarune

if you have any other questions for me, please feel free to ask i’ll be happy to answer!!! hopefully this helps u get to know me :^)

#bpd #borderline personality disorder #actually bpd #get to know me #meet the blogger #my chemical romance #twenty one pilots #hozier #amy winehouse #mental illness #mental health #Spotify

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thesongofthegreens · 5 months ago

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THE LOVE OF A SPINSTER | MAYFAIR, ENGLAND

Now that spinsterhood had fallen upon her, Penelope was out of the citrus dresses and into lovely shades of green, blue, and purple. But such colors had not brought attention to her, and she counted herself as lucky, for she was not talked about consistently, in a polite or impolite manner.

In her exile from the ton’s festivities, she remained close to the walls, occasionally chatting with Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton. But out of her few true friends, she enjoyed the company of Gordon Bowbury the most, aside from Eloise, who was practically her sister in all but name.

Gordon was like Colin Bridgerton in many ways: tall, charming, and generally well liked by the ton.

They were also the same in that she had loved them both.

She had been able to let go of Colin, though it had taken some time. He was one of few gentlemen in the ton that would entertain dancing with her, though nearly all of its members hailed from the Bridgerton family. She had always known that his mother has guilted him into it, or that other circumstances had pressured him into it rather than wanting to truly dance with her. She remembered all too well the moment she had seen Lady Bridgerton's elbow run right into his ribs, then how he had floated across the ballroom towards her without so much as a word in regard to it.

She had known her love, though devoted and true, was wasted on such a man. It was not his lack of worth, but his steadiness in his friendship towards her, after all the letters and witnessed near proposals to other women; all of it had come together to bring the end. In truth, if she had continued to love him, she would have sworn that it would have killed her, despite never truly having been alive in such a time.

But her love for Gordon… It was different in many aspects. It was not the childish infatuation, nor the end-all-be-all love she had always sworn would remain Colin's. It had taken years of friendship, even after her choice to let love go, and many nights of lemonade before she began to see him differently. It had never been that he was not handsome, or funny, only that she had sworn she was invisible and that his mama had sent him too. But the years and her spinsterhood had finally taken that pity out of anyone, and Gordon had remained.

Her fear of his rejection had remained as well, a deep and terrible abyss to which she knew may overtake her. But the abyss did not exist when he was near her, when he smiled and laughed at her japes towards the same ton that had once done the same to her. If she could have stayed near him, forever or even a moment, she did not have to fear a thing.

Tonight, as she donned an emerald dress and her curls flowed freely, she looked for him, for Gordon, and she found him, on the outskirts, talking with a few gentlemen. He had not spotted her yet, but he would, and she would hold her breath until then, waiting for her love to return to her, with no claim but the one in her heart. She did not let herself imagine what would happen if he decided to join the aim of most gentlemen and find a wife.

He was still in those years where marriage was to be expected of him, at nine and twenty; she felt grateful that he never acknowledged her own passing of such a line. She had been out in society since she was five and ten, with not so much as a singular suitor. A few years ago, when she had been five and twenty, with ten years out, she had finally been able to slink back to her walls without a glance, and each year felt closer and closer to death, despite only being eight and twenty.

Taking herself close to the punch table, where she had been allowed to serve herself due to her age, she listened to the idle gossip there, a small smile threatening to break when she heard of the recent scandal of Lady Evergreen being caught with the footman. Of course, it had been her handmaid, and the woman had been sworn to secrecy, yet the same maid was the one rattling on at the table.

After having her drink filled, she turned back to the ballroom to find a place to sit and found Gordon himself, her cheeks blossoming with a pink that would be difficult to miss and a soft gasp. “I thought you were still with the gentlemen, I did not wish to interrupt. But I am glad to see you all the same." The smile, that was bright and fearless and reserved for him, moved onto her lips.

| closed roleplay with @halyconocs , sorry for the long starter, I love setting the scene and background! |

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fashionablyfyrdraaca · 1 year ago

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Owlcatober 2023 + Memory

Hi everyone! Here's my submission for prompt #9 Memory. This is my first time taking part in a monthly event like this. :D

Game: Pathfinder Kingmaker

Characters: Maegar Varn, Varn's General (Isanne Kanmir)

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1,257

Summary: Maegar Varn's life is close to its end and his General Wife has some reminiscing to do on all the adventures they've had together. Warnings for death and mentions of pregnancy.

You can read it here on AO3 as well!

In the years since the Queen’s encounter with the Lantern King, Varnhold has grown robust and peaceful. The Varnling Host patrol the plains of Dunsward, assisting the common folk and the Nomen centaurs. Many hours had its leader, Maegar Varn, present in the throneroom of Tuskdale, advising and perhaps fighting with the Queen. For this service, his retirement was well protected and ensured. Now his final adventure was about to begin.

The large four-postered bed lay shrouded in furs and fabrics. Censers heavy with incense fill the room, hiding the scent of illness. The heady smoke hides the walls and windows from her view. With a shaking hand outstretched, Isanne Kanmir-Varn finds her way to the chair set beside the bed. Here she sits herself down with a crackling back.

Once robust, Maegar Varn is now withered and pallid. It is the shadow of his 84th year. Their children have been born and grown in what felt like a blink to her, but was really the breadth of his natural life. His grandchildren had even blessed them with their births, sprouting up like little flowers in the garden of their hearts. Both had contributed to the deep smile lines on his face. Much of the white hair that lays haloed around his head had come from many hours of chasing the children around the village and the ensuing shock of childish actions.

His breathing comes low and belabored. Clerics had come and gone, shaking their heads and offering empty platitudes. Isanne sighs as she watches him. The time to call the Priest of Pharasma comes soon. She leans over and grips his hand. Maegar’s skin is clammy.

“My love, can you hear me,” Isanne calls out to him.

With a groan, Maegar opens his eyes and looks at her. His brown eyes are now bloodshot. A weak smile comes to his lips.

“Do you want me to call the priest,” she asks.

“Nay. Isanne… tell me something cheerful. This room is driving me mad.”

She shifts in her seat, thinking back to all the adventures they’ve had. She has been at his side since he was a young man. When they first met, his face was clean of the scars that now riddle it. Starting there would be good.

“Do you remember when we met in Pitax?”

That weak smile broadens.

“You were drunk on Liacenzan wine. It made me happy I left Vikke at the inn. She was four then. Too small for the japes of men.”

Isanne pauses, envisioning in her mind’s eye her daughter; the only child she had had that was not by Maegar. Now the younger woman was somewhere in Absalom, seeking her own fortunes. It had been difficult saying goodbye to the child that had followed her across the world and into war. It should not have come as a surprise that a soul so alike her own would also seek adventure.

“I remember you comparing me to some bodice ripper heroine you had read about.”

“Kigelia the Lusty Elven Washerwoman,” Maegar adds, voice weak, but full of humour. Isanne rolls her eyes at the name. In his drunken stupor, he had made the grave error of assuming one elf had to be alike all of them. Especially if they looked similar to the crude drawing on the front of the book. It was not something he would have said had he been sober, but she hadn’t known that then.

Isanne continues to describe the resulting duel; how she had taken her anger to the streets. Her kinetic blade of stone against his dual daggers. The way her eyes had trailed to his form, a strongman’s body - a mixture of protective fat and sharp muscle rippling underneath. Even at that first awkward meeting the attraction had been strong. It had come so naturally for her to ask who he was and what he did. The fact that he led the Varnling Host was a pleasant surprise; she had already decided she needed to know him without that.

“I am glad you didn’t hate me for that one,” Maegar whispers, his eyes growing heavy.

“Should I let you rest, my love?”

He weakly shakes his head and then tilts it like a puppy, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Nay, tell me more. Give me more stories for the road.”

With tears forming, she regales him with more stories of their time as mercenaries. Tales of lizardfolk trophies distributed, boggards slain and even the tale of Noose, hiding between Rostland and Issia. Her heart pounds in her chest and her leg bounces with the fear of what is coming. Still she continues on. The story of Lostlarn Keep brings a frown to his face and she switches the story to the Queen’s rescue of her. She remembers waiting in the Beer Mug Inn with Linzi, convinced that Maegar was dead and the Queen a liar. Both halflings, Queen and Bard, had beamed when Isanne had run straight into Maegar’s arms at his arrival to the small tavern. She remembers the desperation of the kiss marking their reunion.

“I thought you had died, you know,” Isanne says, shaking her head with the bitterness of the memory.

“I could say the same of you! I thought I had finally found my Lady Varn and off you went without me.”

Isanne laughs, the only cheerful sound the room had heard in weeks.

“Hmmm. You must remember our wedding then, no?”

A hint of mischief enters his voice, “I remember the night then especially well.”

That memory is a pleasant one. The wine had been like a river; the cakes and pastries like mountains. The Queen and her companions had attended as well. Linzi had harassed Ekundayo before scribbling details in her book. She remembers the citizens discomfort at the little goblin Nok-Nok who had stuffed his face eagerly. Fortunately the amenities of the party had been enough to keep the tension from growing. There had also been the Queen, shifting back and forth from enjoying the company of Octavia and Regongar to sitting with the quiet, mysterious tiefling Kaessi.

Their twins had come along nine months later; the first of what came to six. Every birth had stressed out Maegar to the point where he followed her like a little, lost kitten. Then when the child’s cries filled the air, he would immediately come to her side, fawning over her and the little one. Yes, they had many happy years with their children. Reminding him of little moments spent with them brings a smile to his tired face. Eventually he stops responding, eyes closed and chest rising and falling shallowly. She tells him about how much their children will miss him. She asks him to say hello to Cephal for her when he makes his way into Pharasma’s Boneyard. Isanne lays her head against his chest, listening to his fading heartbeat.

It happens in the quiet hours of the night. She awakes with a start, upset at having fallen asleep. Looking over to his face, Isanne realizes he is gone. That the end had come while she slept feels like a rock in her gut. Tenderly, she moves the hair from his face. Then she leans and brings his hands to a rest on his chest. Before leaving to get the cleric for Maegar’s last rites, she whispers close to his ear.

“Thank you for loving me, Maegar. If I could do this all again, I would pick you every time.”

#owlcatober 2023 #pathfinder kingmaker #maegar varn #isanne kanmir #fanfiction #miss shania talks too much #oc stuff

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karasong · 8 months ago

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song poem challenge!

thanks for tagging me @doublesunsets yours was so cool, it completely added up (& i sat there guessing the songs because the lines sounded so familiar)

here is mine!

i am not the fast one why should i deny this old dog of mine?

shake it up is all that we know stay away, away, away

i’m feeling you yeah, i’ve been thinking a lot

silent as we drive i got a problem

let it never be said the romance is dead we’re smashing mics in karaoke bars

rules: put your entire song collection on shuffle, then write down the first line from each of the first ten songs that pop up to create a poem. you must then dedicate the poem to the blorbo or OTP that it most reminds you of! then tag or send asks to others that you think might enjoy the challenge!

it’s very OTP vibes to me. someone who is less forward about romance, you know? their romance lies in other gestures & they know they’re hesitant but it’s something they can work on. i’m not sure... maybe batcat.

song list:

lonely life - miike snow

old yeller - childish japes & dave vives

out of touch - hall & oats

black out days - phantogram

feeling - coin

missin you crazy - russ

back to your love - night riots

prblm - friday pilots club

ruby - kaiser chiefs

greek tragedy - the wombats

no pressure tags: @moonlight-prose @tarrenterror25 @stargazingcarol @dameronology @hellolitty @veneskaa @saturnisfallingdown @the-mandalorian-clone-lover

#tag game

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hollis-exe · 1 year ago

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url song spelling game time >:] thank you @shimdta AND @baysee (im stealing your formatting. sorry)

Hollywood Junkyard - The Bobby Lees Ok Panic Now - Irritating Rainbow "Listen to Your Heart." "No." - Cheekface Looking For The Rain - UNKLE I've Had It - Old Man Saxon Something Else - Childish Japes - Egoismus - C418 Xtal - Aphex Twin Entropyyy - Lorn

YAHOO YIPPEE i'm tagging anyone who wants to do this but also @x-unnamedgraves-x @reliquarian @spiderbuttons and @rdhndrd!

#tag game #THIS WAS HARD TO NARROW DOWN IM NGL #the fucking spread of genres and tones will give you pause. im sorry #trax #daily h

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crowjodojocasahouse · 1 year ago

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if you wanna listen smth kinda trippy yet still VERY VERY groovy, i highly recommend float by childish japes (featuring the man of the evening consuming my every waking thought: dave vives)

#its so soothing and mesmerizing at the beginning #then they drop into the heavy 2 and 4 backbeat and its so solid and groovy #this song goes absolutely insane #this is definitely my album of the year #if i had spotify it would most definitely be my entire wrapped #its so fucking good guys #childish japes #dave vives #salamander #Spotify

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justali-anne · 2 years ago

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Skelebros Interests

Tell me if I missed anything!

Both:

Cars (Papyrus with his race car bed and real car in the good ending, Sans with the magazines and car imagery "blue stop signs")

Sewing and making clothes (they made the battle body together)

Puns

Cooking (more obvious in Papyrus)

Humans (Papyrus with capturing one, Sans with learning about them [going by the headcanon that he never saw a human before Frisk so I guess he just learned more about humans or something])

Existential dread!

Sans:

Outer spacey sci-fi stuff

Real science

Pranks and childish humour

Food

Video games (he talks to you about video game recommendations in one version of the game iirc)

Trolling

Papyrus

Japes

Building

Painting

Sparring

Cooking (again, more obvious in him)

Sports

That's all I can think of for now!

#undertale #sans #papyrus #my thoughts #skelebros

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defrostedvertebrae · 2 months ago

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i don't even care to think about why this song hits so nicely with us but god is it nice to yell along to it. I feel like just filling 20 pages of a journal just repeating passages from this song

#from the bone freezer #music #unna.zip #tired canid alter is tired #too long fronting but i dont feel like switching out nor can i control it #Spotify

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armylily · 2 years ago

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Chapter 11: New Job

~(Y/N) POV~

I feel like I should regret speaking to King Odin's firstborn son with my chosen tone of voice...

But I don't.

He should've taken the hint that I'm not interested. I walk towards the stairs and I hear heavy footsteps behind me. Maybe, he can take me home..no. If he's here, that means he is either on a mission or in battle. He looks to be finished with a mission, as he bares few wounds. Plus, he is most likely looking for a woman to lay with.

I shake my head and continue onwards. I felt a large, calloused hand grab my left wrist not tightly but enough to hold me in place. Now I do not like being touched at all, much less being grabbed by someone that is trying to sleep with me. So I do something that I am still very proud of to this day.

I grab his wrist with my right hand, pull my hand out of his grasp and elbow him in the stomach. After he ducks forward from the impact, I jerk my elbow into his chin and he falls back. As he fell down, I massage my elbow, now feeling numb.

He's propped on his right elbow while rubbing his chin. His bottom lip was bleeding but not profusely. He looks at his marked hand, looks at me, and smirks. My stomach feels weird, being under his gaze. But my scowl grows at the sight of his cocky face.

I set my right foot on his chest and lower down to look closer at his face. I then set all of my weight onto my foot and he groans.

I finally spoke in the same dark tone as before, "If you dare touch me again, you will regret the day you ever laid your eyes on me. I am not a whore you can pay and lay with. Do not think at all that you can use your status and looks to slip into my clothes."

His eyes dilate at the end of my threat and he nods slowly. I move my leg off Thor's chest and walk off. As I unlocked the door to my room, I hear my stomach growl with hunger. I wrap my stomach with my right arm in pain and breathe heavily a few times. I have not eaten ever since the battle with Hela, I'm surprised I have not fainted.

I debate about eating, as I was used to the small amounts of food that were given at the training camp. I sigh in annoyance at myself and close the door. I'm sure that Thor had already left the inn so I continue walking down.

I walk to the bar and ask the man, "Do you have any food with you?"

The bartender looks at me and smiles softly. "Yeah, do you need some?"

His tone was very....soft like he was speaking to a lost child. I will admit I'm lost but his tone just made my cheeks red. Brunnhilde always spoke to me in that tone so it made my heart swell and I sheepishly nodded.

"Cuyler."

I hear him say as I look up at him with confusion on my face.

His smile grows as he says, "That's my name: Cuyler. But you may call me C if you prefer."

I nod in acknowledgment with a slight blush from embarrassment.

"So is that how you got it?" I ask with a lot of curiosity.

He raises his cut eyebrow in question.

"I meant your eye. Cuyler means archer so is that how you got it?"

He makes a face of realization and scratches the back of his neck. I smile slightly as it was adorable, like a puppy adorable.

"Yes and no. I was interested in archery when I was a young boy, but me being a young and idiotic boy, I didn't know how to use a bow and arrow. I held the arrow wrong and it flew back into my eye, causing me to lose sight. And my eyebrow is because of.." Cuyler pauses as he does a facepalm.

"Of what?" I was genuinely curious about this man, as I may as well get to know him as I'm staying.

He lets out a sigh and replies, "..my cat."

I look away from Cuyler, holding in a laugh behind my right hand.

He yells at me in a childish yet japing tone, "HEY, IT HAPPENS, ALRIGHT?!!"

I let out a few more giggles and apologize for my immaturity, not really apologizing for myself but for him. It's amusing to hear mistakes for such intriguing scars.

He hands me a brown bag of food, produce most likely. My dominant hand was about to grab my lunch when Cuyler snatches it up. I look up at him with an annoyed face, my stomach rumbling again.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. That was rather unfair of you, Madame. I answered your questions, you answer mine and I give you the food! Deal?"

I make my frown go deeper but sigh. I retract my hand and await his question. Cuyler smiles widely and giggles. Weirdo... He props his head on his right hand, looking at me in a daze.

"Where are you from? That is my first question!"

I raise an eyebrow but answer, "Asgard."

Cuyler's eyes widen and he freezes.

I pat his right cheek a few times and he yells, "YOU'RE FROM ASGARD??!"

I jump out of my seat and clamp my hand over his mouth.

"Will you shut it!?!", I whisper-shout. "Yes, I'm from Asgard. Adopted and raised."

I freeze and my eyes widen when I finish my sentence. I groan in annoyance and wait for Cuyler's reaction.

Huh?

I look up to see Cuyler with a sympathetic look on his face.

Here comes the pity shit.

"I'm sorry that happened, ma'am. I'm sure your guardian is an amazing parent." I sigh sadly in memory and nod.

"He is. I miss him dearly. I haven't seen him in 6 centuries. I'm not even sure he still lives.."

I feel a small tear fall down my (S/C) cheek, then I hear sobbing coming from the weird bartender. I look at him in slight worry and a lot of confusion

"Y-your sto-ory is s-so s-s-sAAAD!!"

I grab a handkerchief from my pocket and gently wipe his cheeks.

"You're making it seem like you've got a tragic childhood, Cuyler," I say with a slight giggle.

"Do f-forgive m-m-me.." Okay, he needs to chill his shit.

"I do, now please stop crying."

He blows his nose obnoxiously and tries to hand it back to me. I grab it with my thumb and pointer finger and throw it behind me. I pat his back until his breathing turns normal.

"I've only got three more questions now!"

"Name doesn't count."

"...what"

"You gave me your name by choice."

".......aight TWO MORE QUESTIONS THEN!!"

I giggle at his sentence and prop my chin up. "What's under the cape, pretty lady?"

I raise an eyebrow teasingly and also seriously. I look around to see no one but us so I don't mind showing Cuyler. I hop off the seat and walk backward. I smirk at his confusion and spread my beautiful wings out.

They knocked a few tables and chairs out of the way and almost hit the ceiling too. I look up to see Cuyler in awe at the new, bright sight. I smile softly and retracted them back under. I walk up to the stool and sit, waiting for his loud outburst.

Aaaaaaaand he fainted.

Cuyler falls to his right side, stiff as a board, and knocked two cups over.

I sigh and grab the bag of apples, now known by the feel. As I turn around, I bump into another broad and steel-like chest. As the apples fell out of the bag, I catch all of them before they hit the ground.

I sigh in relief but my face contorts into frustration as I look up at the stupid man that almost made me lose my lunch.

You've got to be kidding me.

Thor looks down at me with a wide grin and wide eyes. I look at him with so much confusion until he grabs my shoulders and shakes me while saying, "YOU'RE THE GUARDIAN ANGEL OF THE VALKYRIE, (Y/N)!!!"

I feel myself getting dizzy with the shaking and push his hands off.

"What gave it away?" I ask sarcastically.

I pull off my hood to show my (H/L) (H/C) hair (matted/greasy/in knots). My eyes were slightly dull (E/C) with a small sparkle. My lips chapped but in their natural color. My face had a few bruises as well.

Thor loudly chuckles and said, "Well, I was watching you from the entrance and you showed the peasant your wings, and *snap* I immediately knew it!" I furrow my eyebrows in slight annoyance.

"What do you want, Thor Odinson?" I ask in a taunting way.

"I wish for you to join my team of warriors! You're actually one of my heroes, also my brother, Loki."

I look at him, process his words, and pause in my steps. It could help me get back home, but I'd be in his debt. But I'd be well fed and more known. But Thor is annoying.

I walk in front of the prince of Asgard and ask in a very serious tone, "What makes you think I would join you and your team? What's in it for me?"

Thor chuckles again and pats my left shoulder. I look at him more angrily and he laughs nervously.

He then says, "You'll be more known as Guardian, warrior angel of Asgard!! You'll be fed, loved by many, and you'll be in my team, of course, I'd say that's the most important."

I look at him with a 'really, dude' face and he sighs.

"I can make sure you see your father again."

"Deal."

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