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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 1 year ago

Note

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

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The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“What’d you do this weekend?”

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.

God, you were down bad.

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.

That was all you needed to hear.

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

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muffinsin · 5 months ago

Note

So it’s obvious that the girls had lives and families before the Cadou, so it got me wondering. What if the girls had a biological older or younger sibling that comes to work in the castle? It would probably feel weird to the girls to see what is basically a clone of you, that remembers a different version of you but you can’t remember them.

Tbh I love to occasionally think of setting Elena up as this (due to her obvious resemblance to Cassandra due to their models)👀 that’s a very interesting thought, hon!👀 this one’s got a bit angsty🙃

This one’s a little off my usual HCs for them since I HC that all 3 take a good 80 years tops to get to the point where they are in the game. Maturity and growth wise XD

Masterlists

Bela

Contrary to popular belief, not all are forced into the castle, forced to work there, to cook and clean and serve

Many come for the safety it can provide, the three meals a day, the roof above one’s head, the protection against Lycans

You, have come for a different reason

Bela Dimitrescu

The eldest of Alcina Dimitrescu, countess of Castle Dimitrescu, the head of the house

Her eldest. Her successor. Her heiress. One of three daughters, sisters

But also, your sister

She carries a different name now, looks a little different, acts different. But it’s her, undeniably so

You begin by working at the castle, and you work hard

Hard, quickly, every day. More and more. No task is too hard for you, no goal unreachable, for you have a single goal in mind;

To get to Bela

You know, you need to see her

You need to see your sister

You didn’t think you would again, that she would be lost forever after being taken by Mother Miranda

To see her in the distance, dragging something back to the castle…alive

Different, but alive

You need to know if your sister is still there

And so, as you continue to work hard and pick up more and more tasks, you eventually work your way up in the castle

Past ordinary tasks, ranking above the average maid

Until, at last, you’re assigned to clean and organize Bela’s spaces when she wants for it

You’re incredibly nervous on the first day, well aware that you will see her up close for the first time

While you’ve seen Cassandra around plenty times and managed to dodge her and had Daniela throw herself at you a few times, Bela has been distant, far too busy to spare the staff a glance or even interact with it

And when you are summoned to her office and finally see her, you feel like your heart is stopping

Her eyes are different, she sports a tattoo on her forehead. Her clothing is much richer and darker and while she barely wore make up in the village, she wears some now

But, beyond all this, she’s your sister still

Of course, she notices your racing heart

But, unlike her sisters, her reaction is different

She doesn’t grin, doesn’t approach you with a predatory smile and shine to her eyes as Cassandra would

She doesn’t move towards you with a sultry smile and seductive eyes as Daniela likes to do

Instead, she rolls her eyes subtly, as though a little annoyed

You immediately straighten up. You’re not sure how much she’s changed, but you know well enough to not anger her. Especially on your first day. You’ve heard rumors she is particularly unforgiving as it comes to a lack of competence

This, though, has you smile a little

This, at least, is a little like your sister, even if she was far, far more soft spoken in the village, unable to speak out as she can now due to the harsh, outdated hierarchy

Still, you remember her subtly rolling her eyes and glancing to you whenever something or someone annoyed her

Sensing your shift in behavior, she at last turns again, her hand raising, her gloved fingers gesturing to the room

As she talks, you can’t help but feel your heart ache. Her voice, though far more confident, is still the same

Your sister…

So close, yet so far

You so desperately want to reach out, to wrap your arms around her

You’re certain it wouldn’t be a very good idea judged by the dried blood around her lips

And still, you force yourself to stay quiet, to stay professional, to avoid staring at your long-lost sister overly long

As she works, you notice she checks in on you occasionally, critical as always, checking if you’re doing your work correctly

You can’t help a small smile

Even after all those years, you know how she likes to organize things. You know what ticks her off, what makes her smile, satisfied

You perform every task she gives you far better than all others, and she quickly decides she’s pleased with you. Pleased enough to have you work for her more and more

Every day, you see her

No. Every day, you see a shadow of who she was

She’s not quite your sister, and you’re not quite part of her family

She’s none the wiser, and you don’t dare tell her

You notice, though, she’s growing suspicious

Sometimes, you catch her staring, unashamed when she continues looking at you even when you turn to her

Like she’s trying to figure something out

Like she’a trying to figure out why you look so similar and familiar to her, but she has no recollection of you at all

At first, she thinks; could you be related to a former lover?

But…no, it doesn’t seem right

She can’t even begin to think she might be your sister

And you..you aren’t sure telling her is the best course of action

You can’t help but worry, fearing she might take you for a fool if you told her the truth

You know, in her eyes, she has a family

A new family

A stronger family

Not you…

She’s happy, you can’t help but notice. Or seems it, at least. She’s safe. And while she is occasionally heard complaining about “her sisters”, it isn’t hard to tell she loves them dearly nonetheless

Unsurprisingly, this stings

But…you can’t help but wonder whether it’s for the best

You’re about to tell her, once. About to spill your heart out and tell her everything. About to plead with her to come home

Home…

To the village, where it isn’t safe

A village, whose inhabitants have come to hate who your sister has turned into

How can you possibly ask her to do that? How could she possibly accept that?

You tell yourself, you won’t bother her. That after she’s looked after you all her life, you will look after her and grant her this life, now

But…you can’t bring yourself to stay away

You work eagerly, show up on time, every single day

You never fail to complete a task to her upmost satisfaction, and work for as long as you can, desperate to be with her and see her

You too notice yourself grow clingier, while she grows more and more curious

You seem so familiar, at ease. She can’t understand you, can’t figure you out at all

She wants to

She suspects, you must be keeping something from her

And when one day she confronts you, you almost forget who she is, now. That she no longer is the meek villager, the woman trying hard to protect you even if it meant being punished for it

The woman who would never resort to violence

You refuse to tell her what’s going on, originally, mistaking your relationship with Bela for one far more familiar than it is, now

You find yourself pressed against the window with a sickle to your throat, the not-so subtle threat of falling or being sliced imminent

You panic, suddenly struck with the realization again that despite her looks and certain similarities, this is not quite your sister

And you certainly are not family to her in her eyes

Terrified, you’re forced to realize; she will kill you, should you not speak up

And when you do, sobbing that she’s your sister, it’s like time stands still

She doesn’t believe it, at first

And for a moment, you’re certain she will kill you

But, the killing blow doesn’t come, and you’re left alone in her study instead

In the next couple of days, you don’t see her at all

You can’t even catch as much as a glimpse of her, really

Unbeknownst to you, your words have caused a small panic within her

She spends the majority of her days with Alcina, asking questions here and there, curious whether you could be telling the truth

She’s never quite cared for her former life

Of course, Alcina has once told her that she did exist as someone else before she was reborn

But, with her wonderful family surrounding her, she never found it within her to care

Now, she feels almost like she’s forced to

She panics easily at the thought of you, pacing as thoughts swirl about in her head

Often, it takes Alcina to calm her

It takes days for Bela to sort out her thoughts, to come to a point where she’s at least capable of making a choice

A choice, that comes a little easier to her than she likes to admit

The next day, you find your belongings packed and a carriage awaiting you, along with a handsome amount of gold

Some of the maidens congratulate you, others glance at you filthily, their jealousy clear as day

You feel only dread, only hurt

It’s clear to you in an instant; this is her doing

As much as she feels this odd feeling of familiarity with you, Bela can’t- no, does not want to- turn her back on her new family

She’s a Dimitrescu, and, to her, her family is Alcina, Cassandra and Daniela

She feels no sense of love towards you, no sense of affection she so dearly holds for her younger sisters

But, she does not want to see you hurt

She sends you off, away from the castle

You can’t be a part of her life. She makes this much clear

But, she sees to it that you’re cared for, financially, at least enough to afford a safe home

She can’t bring herself to do more than that

She’s a Dimitrescu, now, proudly so

And you are not

Cassandra

Cassandra Dimitrescu

A terror from the castle

A monster to many villagers. A devil, some even call her. A sadist, certainly. A predator, yes

Your sister

Can I be?

Could it really be her?

You remember her well, remember her strong face and stubbornness, her fierce protectiveness over you, which often led to her getting hurt

She never complained, never stopped protecting you

She’d always shield you from the dangers in the village

Gone, now

Given to Mother Miranda long ago

You remember she fought

You remember being unable to help her, staring into her brown eyes, wide and angry, as she was dragged away

The next time you look into her eyes, they’re golden, but unmistakably hers, still

It’s during a raid of the village, when you find yourself panting on the floor, watching a mysterious brunette rip apart the villager in front of you

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Then, when she turned, your sister…

Her face, her voice…but…not quite her

The woman in front of you is bloodied, and bloodthirsty. She holds your sister’s anger still, shows it openly, but it’s directed at everyone, and it feels like any wrong move could have it direct towards you, too

You aren’t sure why your instincts-unlike your wish- tell you not to run into her arms. But looking back, you’re certain it saved your life

Rooted in place, you can only stare and shiver, shake helplessly as the woman you’re so sure could be your sister tears apart the villager in front of you

By some miracle you aren’t next, left on the ground as she laughs and turns into what looks like a swarm of flies

Maybe, you should have dropped things

Maybe, you should have accepted your sister’s death

Maybe, you shouldn’t have gone chasing Cassandra

But, you do

You set out to work at the castle despite the rumors surrounding it

You know, after all, that is when you will find her

And, sure enough, you find out plenty

You find out, she’s the middle child, sister to Bela and Daniela Dimitrescu

A different family

A different woman?

But…you can’t help but see her, even as you’re confronted with the scary stories the staff likes telling about her in the dark

Maybe, you should have dropped it indeed

Finding Cassandra proves to be an easy task. Avoiding her sickle, a more difficult one

She’s loud, as your sister used to be, unfiltered

You remember, back then, this used to be a problem

You can’t help but notice, she seems happier, now

More confident

Free

Unburdened

Excited

Selfishly, perhaps, you can’t help but hope she isn’t loved. That maybe, she will come back to you

You’d hide her, make sure no resentful villager can find and hurt her. Or, by now, be hurt by her

Perhaps, this should be alarming

Still, you so desperately want to get your sister back

You try working your way up in the castle, try to work in areas you heard she regularly visits

The armory, she cellars, the wing containing her chambers

But, soon you realise; working hard has Bela Dimitrescu turn to you, not Cassandra

Bela, who seems to value order and your hard work

Daniela, who makes it a point to fluster you and all other staff members she comes across. So far, you have been lucky. You find; sticking to a group is important with the redhead, lest her seemingly random mood changes are directed at you

You begin to pull back a little, to take more risks, hoping it might catch Cassandra’s eye

Then, one day, it happens naturally

You’re caught up in a fight, screaming and scratching at the woman attacking you

You aren’t sure how it happened, how the maiden’s hurtful remarks could turn into a full blown fight

Nails scrape against skin, dig against it, hair is pulled

An unnecessary fight, foolish, in an already dangerous workplace

But, it’s enough to capture the sadist’s attention

You both flinch back when she’s suddenly there, and you gasp when her sickle easily slices forth through the air

It catches both of you, still, forming a bleeding cut at your cheek and a deep slash at the maiden’s one

She immediately begs for mercy, falls to her knees and sobs. You stand frozen in place

This close to her, you can’t help but look up again, your eyes finding her golden ones

Gold…not brown.. but the same lazy eye, the same frustration held in them

She’d always get so annoyed and frustrated at useless sobbing, would always scold you when you cried and apologized when she was hurt because of you

You know, this is your sister, deep down

You can’t bring yourself to look away. You want nothing more than to lunge forward, to wrap your arms around her and never let go

You’ve missed your sister so much. Now, she’s so close, yet so far

You flinch when the bloodied sickle is raised to your throat next, flinch and shiver uncomfortably when her tongue drags against the bleeding cut at your cheek

You don’t dare pull away, try to think about how embarrassed she will be once you tell her everything and she remembers you

The thought keeps you going despite your racing heart

And for a moment, she draws back, as if almost familiar with the scent and taste of the blood, as if it was far too similar to her own, far down beneath the scent and taste of her rotten one

For a second, you think she might understand, that she might suspect who you are

That she might remember

But, she doesn’t, and only pulls away again, eying you suspiciously

Of course, the huntress notices your odd taste and scent, so utterly familiar and out of place at the same time

She’s…curious, she decides

And while she snatches the other maid and leaves you that day, you’re summoned to the armory the very next one

From then on, you are to work for her

A deadly position

You still feel her eyes on you, always. You’re certain she’s around even when you can’t see her. Your sister always looked out for you. You hope, it can be like that again

As you work, you feel her around you, hear her flies buzzing while she stays in the shadows

She doesn’t speak, doesn’t come near you

Instead, she watches you, studies your mannerisms. Sometimes, she snarls, and you notice it’s usually triggered by you doing something your sister used to do

In the back of your mind, you wonder whether she still does those things, even as her life seems to be so different

In time, this stays the exact same

It’s always tense with her. Often, you’re around when she drags a new victim with her

At other times, she slices at you, always taking a taste for herself as if tying to study your taste and blood. Her injuries- to you at least- are never lethal. You can’t help but wonder, perhaps naively, that this is done on purpose. You’re sure someone like Cassandra is capable of differentiating

Working for her, you learn more and more about her

With a heavy heart, you notice her anger is much more prominent, now

And while it was often her cut and beat at the village by stronger, bigger villagers, it is now her who cuts and beats, slices and bites, taunts and tortures for hours to no be

Prey, turned to a predator

How could you possibly bring her back home?

How could you possibly get her to stop consuming blood?

At times, you like to daydream, perhaps she can change. Perhaps, you can feed her. Perhaps, she can come live with you. Maybe it will work out

But, she is loved, here

It’s not often you see a glimpse of this, but it’s there

She’s an older sister, here. A younger sister. A daughter. They are each others’ everything

You grow more and more depressed with each day at the castle, less and less convinced that you can ever be with your sister again

Each passing day you notice how much she has changed, how she could never live at the village with you again

Each passing day you notice how bloodthirsty she is, how unique, now

And each passing day you grow less convinced to tell her the truth

Then, one day, it’s as though she has it figured out

You gasp when you’re awoken in the middle of the night. She’s in the staff’s quarters, the beds around you bloodied, all others now forced into an endless sleep, their heads turned, limbs broken, throats sliced

Clearly, she wants to be alone with you

The Realisation that murder comes so naturally to your sister now is horrifying. You know, there is no scenario in which she can return to how she used to be, no amount of love and talking from you. Cassandra is different, now

She claims, she knows who you are

You can’t talk. Can’t hug her as you want, knowing if you do the stench of blood and guts that clings to her will bleed into your scent, too

You can’t speak, can only cry as she sits at your bed

You missed your sister so much

You never thought about how even now that she’s here, she isn’t quite your sister

Not anymore

She asks you what she was like

You can’t answer

She asks you what your parents were like

You can’t answer

You can only stare ahead blankly, knowing that despite her apparent calmness and curiosity, she cares little for you

Her eyes hold no love, only curiosity. She knows, you’re too different. She knows, you don’t accept her, can’t accept her, like this, your head far too full of fake hopes and dreams of a sweet family reunion

She has a family already

She asks you what her name was

You can’t answer

She’s growing annoyed, and you can only sit in silence, the stench of the bodies in the room filling your nose

She raises from the bed, her sickle raised. She demands answers from you, answers her mother could not give her

Who was she?!

You can’t answer

Who she was, is not who she is

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Bitter, you grit your teeth

Not your sister, not anymore. A different name, a different family, a different set of ideals, no longer yours alone. It was meant to be the two of you against the world

Bitter, you turn your head from her

Her patience runs out, and you draw your last breath

Daniela

Your sister…

Not a day passes you don’t think of her

At times, your heart aches when you think of her and feel anger and bitterness at her for leaving you. For being foolish. For being delusional. For being taken away from your family

You still see her eyes when you close yours, so wide and fearful, full of tears

You remember running and hiding away when she was taken, her screams loud, her cheeks wet with salty tears

You never thought you’d see her again, thought your precious sister was gone forever

Or, maybe even worse, a mindless lycan roaming the forest

You didn’t think she still existed, haven’t heard a thing from her

Until the day you too were sent away

Not to Mother Miranda, no, but to work at the castle

A cruel fate, certainly. You’re sure, your “parents” do not fully intend for you to return, money prioritized over you being home

You’re terrified on your first day, your mind full of stories the scared staff has whispered to you already

Whispers of three sisters- Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, and their mother

Bela, the cruel one

Cassandra, the sadistic one

Daniela, the unpredictable one

Alcina, the noble one, nearly impossible to please

You’re walking with a small group of women- soon to be staff members too- when you turn your head at a noise in the distance

A giggle, light, a little manic, but so painfully familiar

Your eyes are wide as you search for the source of it, your breathing ragged already

Could it be?

Could your sister be here?

A staff member, too?

A prisoner?!

You can’t see her clearly, but your eyes are fixated on two women in the distance

One, short, in a maiden’s uniform. You can’t see her face, but recognise the auburn-ginger hair, still

You think, she’s a little shorter than your sister was, but refuse to let go of the string of hope you’re clutching to you, now

In front of her stands a tall woman, dressed in black. You can’t see her face, can’t make out anything but her height, the black dress and coat and the few flies surrounding her and connecting to her skin

You shiver, not trusting the sight. Surely, it didn’t really connect with the woman

But, you’re sure: she must be one of the three sisters, one of the supposed monsters roaming the castle

Briefly, you want to fight, thinking your sister could be in danger

Has the tall woman taken a shine to her? Has she gotten herself in trouble because of her heart, again?

The thought it almost too much to bear

You didn’t help her, couldn’t help her, back then

You want to, now

But as you take a single step towards the pair a hand grabs your arm already, holding you back firmly

“Don’t stray”, the unknown woman, a maid, warns

You’re led back to the group, your eyes lingering on the two women for as long as they stay in your sight

You can only pray, your sister is safe

You only pray, you will see her again, will get to hug her again, talk to her again

Ah, and your wish does come true, in the end

When, just the day after, you’re assigned to the library

An easy task, really. Stacking books, reorganizing them, sweeping dust here and there

You clean idly, your head turning often in hopes of seeing your sister

But, the library is empty

You turn often, keep imagining the sound of her voice until you’re worried you didn’t hear her the day before at all

Then, out of nowhere, you feel a body press up against your back, a sickle held against your cheek

Immediately, you go completely tense, already picking up the scent of blood and flowery perfume behind you

“Oooo, you must be new!”

Instantly, you turn, even as the sharp blade grazes your skin

Your eyes are wide when you do so

First, hopeful

Then, almost horrified

You stare up at the woman in black clothing, her golden eyes set on you, her gaze curious and almost dreamy

You study her features, so familiar to you that you could paint them from memory easily

Your sister

Uncaring of the circumstances, you can’t help but throw your arms around her, your head pressing against her neck, tears already forming at your eyes

You hear her gasp above you, then hear her coo, as though you were nothing but a puppy clinging to her

When you look up at her hopefully, you see no recognition in her eyes at all, though find the faintest flicker of curiosity in the seemingly endless pools of gold

Gold, that you remember being green. Your heart aches as you find a glimpse of it in her eyes still, like a faint reminder of who she once was

You call her name, and she frowns. You try to search your mind, hoping to find her name in the countless scary stories that have been told to you

Daniela

Daniela Dimitrescu

A new name. A new life. A new reality, for her

Briefly, you think bitterly; she’s left you behind again

But you won’t be letting go of her this time. Won’t let her heart carry her away, won’t let her naivety take her from you again. Maybe, if you bring her home, your family could be once more

You’ve missed her so much

You frown when she coos again, her black painted lips spreading into a smile. She smiles, like a predator finding its prey

You shiver, but don’t let go

You won’t let go of your sister, this time

You call her name again, and just briefly there’s a flicker of anger in her eyes, as though growing annoyed with the idea you might mistake her for someone else

Tears begin to form in your eyes

“Don’t you remember me?”

Daniela is, overall, relatively easy to convince of who she uses to be

She hears you out, even as you get the feeling she’s barely taking anything in, as though your- her- story was nothing but that; a story to her, a fairytale

Still, she takes care of you, brings you along a lot

Daniela does not allow you to call her by the name she once went by, but she’s- kind, even as her sisters and mother send more than just one deadly glance your way

You understand fast: she is loved here. She has made a new family, has found one

She’s changed

But maybe, you can change too

You try hard to understand, try not to let it bother you when she kills and taunts and drinks from the staff

You try especially hard to avoid letting her see your terror whenever she randomly turns into a swarm of insects

After all, she could still be your sister, too

And while her sisters seem out for blood, Daniela seems almost excited to have you with her

She spends every day with you, chatting, playing games she has invented or heard of, telling you about her day

Only can you not get rid of that…feeling

Like she doesn’t view you as family, no

She has her family, after all…

No, you are- a friend, perhaps

A friend, she spends every single day with

Until, eventually, she becomes busier

When she hunts all day long and only has time for you in the evenings

When she prefers her new family over you, eventually

When, at last, she grows tired of playing with the little human that just can’t seem to keep up with her

You’re allowed to live at the castle, growing older while she stays forever young, energetic and happy, quickly bored when she visits and, in time, you can neither keep up with her speed nor understand her when she speaks far too fast and a little too low

In the years you spend together, she finds; she does find comfort in you

She likes you, too

But- she is a Dimitrescu

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village

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modelbus · 1 year ago

Note

Wrote this last night, ITS A COOL IDEA BUT ITS BARELY COMPREHENSIBLE!

Y/n is an ender dragon hybrid that was unsafe in the end, so Mumza (goddess of death) put them on Phil’s doorstep when they were like a month old. Phil is an adoptive parent to Techno, Tommy and Y/N. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are close friends, growing up Y/N was also close with them. Phil lives in a snowy biome, Techno and tommy have renovated bedrooms from when they were little for when they stay over. The main town is a big clearing in a forest with a river running through. (There’s no government-) Niki runs a flower themed bakery that also sells flowers, Puffy runs a training center, & literally all dsmp people you feel comfortable writing live there, so they can be in a crowd. (not wilbur ofc)

Y/N went missing 5 years ago, when they were 11. (Tommy was 8, Techno was 16) they were looking at the stars from a bench on a forested cliff they liked hanging out at cuz it had a view of their house and the mountains behind it, and XD found them while doin his thing and was like “wait- you’re supposed to be in the end, small child.. I don’t care the void is spreading and its going from looking like a purple and yellow overworld to a bunch of floating islands.” So he /tp’d them back to the end- KEKW anyway- Y/N’s time in the end decays them, turning the ends of their limbs (including their tail and wings) all void like and glitchy but also scales and they’re tall- (do I make any sense rn?) oh, and the endermen try to kill them but shulkers are nice. SO TRAUMA AND TRAPPED IN THE END FIVE YEARS tryna get tf out and go home but surprise being in the end makes em really powerful as the void melds with their soul and basically says “HEY! DRAGON KID, HIIII! YOU’RE COOL, WE’RE GONNA SLOWLY ATTACH TO YOU!.. oh daym your not dying like everything else we try to be friends with..” BOOM VOID POWERS, ITS ALL GLITCHY LOOKING AND BLACK HOLE STUFF, BUT THE VOID IS NICE AND DON’T MEAN TO EAT THINGS SO NOW THEY CAN CONTROL IT KINDA AND FLY AND STUFF.. eventually their void powers get all strong and shit so they can go home, but htey kinda fly around and see all their friends and family acting completely normal and having a GRAVE despite knowing Y/N was still alive somewhere. the void is mad that their family stopped looking for them despite there being no death messages on their communicators so like a protective bestie its all like “bro you gonna take that? You gonna let them forget you like this?. Hellll no.” And they are also like ‘wtf man YOU KNEW I WASN’T DEAD BUT GAVE UP LOOKING-?!’ After spending five years just trying to find a way back home.. SO VILLAIN ARK, THEY START BUILDING A HUGE CASTLE AND ITS LIKE BLACK & PURPLE EVIL CASTLE LAIR TYPA THING. the void oopsie kills the area around so its all like black and decayed around the castle and its like REAL evil lair shit. Y/N sends ominous notes with the coordinates acting like someone who kidnapped her being all like “come here and bring everything you have if want them back.” So they bring (insert all members mothy picks) along with them and go the the castle, BOOM ITS LIKE AN ESCAPE ROOM KINDA THING WITH PUZZLES AND TRAPS N SHIT. so they slowly make their way up to the throne room thats like at the top fighting things and doin puzzles but when they make it to the top they rise up on a little circle platform into the room all ready to see Y/N in a cage next to some big bad guy. but they see Y/N (5 years older than they last saw them) LOOKING LIKE A FUCKING EVIL QUEEN(or king or ruler) WITH END PARTICLES AROUND THEM AND THEY’RE PARTLY MADE OF VOID AND ALL EVIL DRAGON HYBRID QUEEN BADASS SPOOKY. So they’re pissed and stuff tommy is the first to talk before everyone else joins asking questions and being all confused and sad so they talk a little then they get pissed not believing how sad they are acting so they sends mobs made of materialised void to attack them from their throne it goes on a while and they keep fighting and trying to reason with Y/N before tommy is trying to convince them their not lying and explains that they finally decided to give the town a name after they had been missing year and named it after Y/N & built a statue of them as a memorial in the town enter after two years when they finally stopped looking, and what Y/N saw was just a small grave at their childhood home. They don’t believe it at first but eveyones like why would we lie about that?? So Y/N is all like Wait what- so I’ve been hurting you all for no reason- and they end up being horrified with themself after seeing their reflection in the gems on their crown, drop it and break the wall to fly away while repeating ‘I’m so sorry’ and crying. We cut out at tommy picking up the crown all angsty.

I DO have ideas for another 3-5 parts so like if you manage make it into smth and wanna continue it just say the word. *eyes*

-✨🌌🌙 Annon

you wrote this like it’s a movie and god I wish I could edit shit because I’d make you the movie it deserves. I somehow included too many Greek mythology references and for that I’m so sorry…

Pairing: Gn!Hybrid!Reader x Philza, Technoblade, Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Ranboo (+ cameos)

Doomed Dragon

You love the sun. It’s bright, and warm, and feels like how warm cookies taste when it beams down on your wings. It’s nearly blinding when it reflects off all the snow, but you don’t mind. Sometimes blinding isn’t a bad type of blinding, or at least that’s what Tommy said.

Speaking of Tommy, he told you ages ago he’d be back with Tubbo and Ranboo, but he isn’t. They all ran off to Niki’s flower-bakery-awesome-place so Tubbo could buy some dandelions, and you (being the wise 11 year old you are) decided that suntanning your wings was a far better option. You never did get the hang of trudging through all the snow, and you didn’t want to slather your wings in sunscreen for a fly.

Dad says you’re an ender dragon hybrid. It was a lot of fancy words that led to Techno poking and prodding at you, but you figure it’s practically the same as Dad’s wings. After all, his are black like yours, even if his are feathered and yours aren’t.

“Move it.” Techno orders from behind you, stepping over your wings. You do not, in fact, move. “Phil told me I could check on the dogs.”

You never got why Techno called dad by his first name. You and Tommy both said dad, but Techno just had to be special. Dad said it was his ‘teenage’ phase, and Techno was 16, so he’s got 4 whole years before he’ll call him dad again. Then the second half of his sentence clicks, and you gasp.

“Can I come with?” You plead, but he’s already shaking his head. “Please! I won’t even touch any, I swear!”

“You know they’re scared of your wings.” Techno huffs.

“I’ll tuck them under a blanket really well!”

“They have noses. Besides, aren’t you waitin’ for the rest of your group? What if they come back?”

You puzzle this over, then sigh. “Fine. But be super nice to the dogs for me.”

“Will do.”

Techno vanishes into the snowbanks, his red cloak and pink hair being swallowed up in the white of snow. He better give those dogs your love, or you’ll steal his special shiny books.

You settle into your sunbathing, eyes closing. After a few moments, there’s a thud.

“Techno, I know there’s no way you have those dogs my love—“ you start, eyes still closed.

“Not Technoblade, child.” The voice is echoey, and you jolt up. From above you, a man with two white wings and two glowing rings around his head stares. Looking at him too long makes your eyes hurt, and when you glance away you’ve already forgotten what he looks like.

“Who are you?” You ask sassily, because this is definitely a newcomer. They have wings like dad, but their pretentious ass clothing reminds you of Techno.

“You can call me XD. And you’re out of where you belong. Don’t worry, I’ll get you back to The End in no time.” A hand settles on your shoulder, and panic flares in your mind, because dad taught you all about stranger danger.

Before you can even scream, your stomach twist and drops, and the world around you vanishes entirely.

The End sucks. That was one undeniable truth; The End is horrible and you hate it. Between shulkers—purple things that open to shoot other things that make you float—and the endermen, you were over it.

Although, you had one friend in all the darkness and desolate floating islands. It never gave you a name, and whatever it spoke it certainly wasn’t English, but you understood it all the same. Even gave it a name; hard not to make friends with the one thing that seemed to speak back to you.

In a way, the void replaced the family that never found you.

“Morning, void.” You sigh, tossing a yellow rock into the darkness. It gets chucked back at you, entirely purple. “You’re in a mood today. Sad I didn’t die in the night like always?”

Silence. Then you feel the tingling in your wings, your long tail, the fingers that have turned purple. The void.

Ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ

“Yeah yeah.” You huff. “That’s me.”

You run your fingers alone the yellow stone below you. Mentally, you call it endstone. Seems fitting enough. Following your touch, purple spreads, eroding the stone. That’s been happening lately, and it always leaves the same tingling you get when the void speaks.

“This is so fucked.”

Ї ċḧöṡë ÿöü

“I didn’t ask to be chosen! I just want to go home.” Home to dad, and Techno, and Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and all the others.

Ẅḧö ṡäïḋ ÿöü ċäṅ’ẗ?

“Um, logic and the fact there’s no way off this stupid fucking island?” You roll your eyes. You can’t fly long distances, and you’re too scared to try flying off into the void.

The void doesn’t respond, but your breath still catches. Is it implying that you could? That if you did, there was a way out?

Strange things have been happening to you and your body since you got here. And not in the teenage puberty way that dad talked to you about. Your wings had grown, your tail had gained fucking spikes, purple stressed spreading over your skin. Even your hair started blackening at the ends.

And then there was the fact that when you touched things, they sometimes turned purple. Sometimes, when you were really upset, the object would vanish completely, leaving behind a black hole of nothing. A hole that looked oddly like the void.

You weren’t science-smart, mostly because Sam never taught you before XD dumped you here. But you sure as hell knew that wasn’t normal.

Staring into the void, you make up your mind. “If you’re fucking with me, void, I’ll kill you. Somehow.”

You stand up, spread your wings, and hesitate. Were you really trusting some disembodied voice that gave you fucked up powers? But then the image of a grown-up Tommy, of your dad bent over the kitchen table, of Techno’s back as he walked away from you, all flash in your mind.

And you step forward.

It happens in a blink. It feels a lot like teleporting, the way your stomach twists and drops, the way your breath is stolen from your lungs. But instead of falling into the unfamiliar like you had 5 years ago, you emerge flying, a new person.

There’s snow below you, wind lifting your wings. Wind. Real wind. The air isn’t oppressive, isnt weighing down on you, isn’t leaving a sour taste in your mouth. It feels like home.

You bank down, landing on your feet in the snow. Under you, it warps, purple and black spreading outwards, twisting at the edges. One blink and it’s white snow, another and it’s all wrong again. That never happened in the end.

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re back. The world seems to call to you, a sense in your heart tugging you in a certain direction. You follow it on large wings.

Will Dad cry when he sees you? Will you finally see Techno emotional? Maybe they’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate being back: you’ve missed Bad’s cooking. Surely they’ve been searching for you, and you can’t wait to see their surprise when they realize you found your own way back.

The sun beaming down on you makes no hindrance in your flight. You aren’t Icarus, and the sun won’t stop you from being free. Techno used to tell you and Tommy that one, always joking that Tommy had the looks and you had the wings. Two halves of one whole.

You were about to reunite that whole.

Slowly, your home comes into view. The streets and buildings of the town, and just past that, the house you love. The house you can’t wait to sleep in for the next century. Dad is never getting rid of you.

It’s silent when you land, the second time your feet are touching the ground here. This time, the ground doesn’t glitch. Thank God for that.

“Dad?” You call out, pushing open the door. It was never locked when you were a kid. “Tommy? Techno?”

No response. Maybe they’re outside, or maybe they’re out looking for you? You’ll check the dog area for Techno first.

Trudging through the snow, you delight in making an impact and leaving footprints behind. You never got to see your footprints in the end. Funny how you miss the little things about life.

“Techno? It’s me, I’m ba…” you trail off, spotting a small weathered stone. That certainly hadn’t been there before. You take a few steps closer, staring down to read engraved words.

Your name stared back at you, paired with a date that was five years ago. The day you went missing.

They… they thought you were dead? Is this a grave?

Ṫḧëÿ’ṿë ḟöṛġöẗẗëṅ äḷḷ äḅöüẗ ÿöü

The void’s voice startles you, but you don’t dwell on the fact it followed you.

“No they didn’t!” You shout, but your heart is beating too fast, sick rising in your throat. “No, someone else has to be here!”

Before you realize it, you’re running. Following the familiar path to the town, coming to stop when you see a person. Antfrost, you can recognize him even now, whistling as he carries a box inside.

Acting normal. Normal, as if you didn’t disappear. Normal, as if you hadn’t been gone for five years. Normal, as if your disappearance never made an impact.

Ṗööṛ ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ

“No…” You whisper, staggering back. “I— I don’t—“

Ḟöṛġöẗẗëṅ. Ḧöẅ ċöüḷḋ ẗḧëÿ? Ṫö ÿöü? Ṡö ṗëṛḟëċẗ, ṡö ṁïṅë?

How could they indeed. The void is right. You’ve been forgotten.

Ṫëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ ḅëẗẗëṛ. Ṫëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ ä ḷëṡṡöṅ. Ÿöü äṛë ẅöṛẗḧÿ öḟ ṛëṁëṁḅṛä��ċë.

“How?” You whisper, arms curling around yourself.

Ṛëṿëṅġë, ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ. Ṫäḳë ṛëṿëṅġë.

“I don’t want revenge, void. I want—“

Ÿöü äṛë äṅġṛÿ. Ї äṁ äṅġṛÿ. Ẅë äṛë äṅġṛÿ. Ṫäḳë ṛëṿëṅġë, ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ.

Even as you want to deny it, you know it’s true. You are angry. Pissed, in fact. How dare they forget you? How dare they act as if you were nothing, as if your personal hell didn’t matter?

Slowly, an idea forms, pieces falling into place.

There’s a story you used to like, gasping and laughing at the drama of it as Techno told it. Indulged you.

A king and his friend, Theseus. The part you loved hearing was the end of it: Theseus sought refuge with the king, and the king pushed him off a cliff.

You sought refuge with this town, and they stabbed you in the back. And if they want your forgiveness? Well. They’ll have to prove themselves worthy.

Ä ċäṡẗḷë. Ḅüïḷḋ ä ċäṡẗḷë.

“With puzzles.” You murmur, planning with the void. Embracing it. “And traps, and mobs. Twelve floors.”

Ẅë ẅïḷḷ ẗëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ.

You don’t remember building the castle. Hell, you aren’t even sure if you could build something like this. It’s tucked behind mountains, black stone and purple stained windows hiding it in the shadows. Spires reach toward the sky as if they’re claws, threatening to rip a hole in the world.

The void, at some point, must’ve taken over for you and built it. That’s the only logical explanation you could come up with, bolstered with the evidence of the void’s impact on the landscape around the castle.

It’s obvious at first glance that something is wrong with the greenery. The flowers and trees have all withered and died, shriveling up into dull-looking husks. The snow has melted to reveal blackened grass underneath, and the mountain is infected with veins of purple. It looks evil. You look evil.

The void loves it. You aren’t so sure, but at least you look cool. And you felt cool setting up all the traps and challenges.

There’s mazes and mobs and hunts and puzzles, all of which you set up. Your favorite is the one where they’ll have to search the room to find three golden apples and deliver them into a chest. It was some tricky redstone, but once they do that the door will open. That’s the eleventh floor, the final one before you’ll finally see them.

All that’s left is to send out the notes, each of which you hand write in (quite honestly) horrible handwriting. The void helped with the threats and the purple paper, leaving you with a simple message.

“𝓑𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝟧 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝑔𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀. 𝓛𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝓜𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒾𝓉; 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇.”

It’s stupid, and possibly cringey, but you’ve never written a ransom note before, so you think you’ll get a pass. You just need to send them and wait for the plan to start working.

It takes them less time than you thought it would to get through all of your rooms. It’s as if you blinked and they were all there, staring at you as you sit on your unnecessarily fancy chair.

“Are you real?” Tommy blurts out. He’s the same golden-hair kid you remember running around with, just grown.

Are you real? He had asked. Surely you don’t look that bad. The scales on your arms grew, certainly, and purple particles floated all around you, but it was still you.

“Kid?” Dad asks, stood next to Tommy. “Are you— what are you doing?”

“Where have you been?” Puffy adds on, wide-eyed. “Have you been safe?”

Your gaze sweeps over them all, anger clawing its way up your throat. Puffy, Niki, Antfrost, Bad, Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, Dad, Techno, Sam. All of them are here, staring at you with mixed expressions of horror and sorrow and surprise.

It’s fake. It must be fake. They gave up on you! They left you for dead, left you to rot alone!

“You’re all liars!” You shout. “Acting sad, as if you didn’t stop looking for me!”

“We didn’t—“ Tubbo starts, but you cut him off.

“Stop!” You hold your hand up to signal him to stop talking, but purple particles swirl in front of your palm and materialize into something solid. Then again, and again.

It’s not until there’s ten purple figures that you realize what you’ve done. You created mobs, living creatures made of the void. One of them groans like a zombie, then rushes at Sam. He reacts immediately, swiping his sword at its head. The purple head rolls, disintegrating. Then, it reforms on the void-zombie’s shoulders.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Everybody’s shouting and swinging their weapons around, trying to figure out how to get rid of the void-zombies. All you can do is watch, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. Those things came from you, from your anger.

“You’ve got to get rid of these things!” Techno shouts, looking over at you while swinging his axe.

And you? You don’t do a damn thing.

“We looked for you, all of us! We’d never give up!”

“Shit, a little help!”

“Oh, God…”

Everyone’s voices mix into one big mess of noise, only made worse by the noises of the weapons and the void-zombies.

“We named the town after you!”

Your head whips toward Tommy’s voice, eyes focusing on him. He ducks under a void-zombie’s hand, staring back at you.

“And Ranboo has this brilliant idea— we made a statue of you! Well, Sam made it, but it’s pretty sick looking.” He adds.

“…You’re lying.” You accuse, but you already know he’s not.

“Why would we lie about something like that?” Niki asks, gentle despite the violence filling the room.

As if on command, all the void-zombies vanish.

Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God. What have you done? What have you become?

Ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ…

We’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up. The horror is cold, spearing through your body, no part of you untouched.

Your glassy eyes catch on the chandelier, a thousand crystal images of you reflecting like a mirror. And all you can see is the void. The glitchy darkness surrounding you, the horrible thing you’ve become.

Maybe you’re a coward for it, but you run, crown falling from your head. The second your hand brushes against the wall, it vanishes, glitching out of existence as you hurtle through it and into the dark night.

“Kid!”

You don’t look back.

The silence you leave behind is eerie.

Five years. Five years since they last saw you. And now here they were.

Tommy is the first to step forward, to grab the crown you had dropped. He always liked shiny things, but more importantly, he liked keeping your things after you went missing.

He looks down, meeting his own eyes in the gems.

This crown doesn’t feel like you at all.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #philza x reader #philza #technoblade #technoblade x reader #ranboo #ranboolive #ranboo x reader #tubbo #tubbo x reader

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tobiasdrake · 8 months ago

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Ranma 1/2 reboot episode 4 opens with a deep cut.

Yeah, we're opening on the Ranma 1/2 SNES fighting games they used to have. Because fandom's like that sometimes.

(Now release a modern one.)

I was wondering if it'd be Ryoga or Shampoo introduced next.

(Because I don't actually remember the order they introduce characters in. XD)

Was hoping for Shampoo but I'll gladly take Ryoga. I hope we get to Ukyo before the end of the season. I don't expect we will. But I hope so.

IT BEGINS

Ryoga's legendary inability to find his way. This is a character who can be justified for crossovers by just wandering by. How did he get to Middle Earth? He's just that fucking lost, that's how.

My very first Ranma 1/2 experience, before I knew what the anime was, came from my cousin cosplaying Ryoga at an anime con. He rode an elevator up and down for like an hour just screaming, "Where's the door!?"

I need y'all to properly appreciate the route Ryoga took to Furinkan High School in Nerima.

Do you see that black circle? That is Tokyo. That is where he is trying to go.

The red circle is Shikoku. When he stops the boar and asks for directions to Furinkan High, this is where he is. He's got a long way to go.

The blue circle is Hokkaido, the second place where he stops to ask directions. He has made a complete journey from one end of Japan to the other without ever running into Tokyo.

He's just. So much fun.

"RANMA OUR TIME FOR DESTINED BATTLE HAS COME"

"...who are you again?"

Is pretty much the story of his life from here on out.

Ryoga is kind of a big deal. Of all of Ranma's rivals, he's the rival. He's the guy. Kuno's really more of a recurring nuisance and Mousse is more quirky than anything. Ryoga is the guy who really keeps Ranma on his toes.

Together, these two boys have a very long journey ahead.

...

Which only makes it more amazing that their rivalry is founded in something so petty and ridiculous, but that is the way of Ranma 1/2. Ryoga is homicidally furious because he was supposed to fight Ranma, but Ranma only waited three days for him to arrive at the vacant lot behind Ryoga's house rather than giving him the four days it took him. Ranma stood him up. The coward.

And all over a curry bun.

This is the magic of Ryoga Hibiki. He is an utterly absurd buffoon of a man who takes himself deathly serious. Blissfully oblivious to how entirely ridiculous he is.

He is the Tom to Ranma's Jerry but he thinks he's Vegeta.

Technically, it's his curse that he's so furious about. But. Like. He was already mad enough to follow Ranma to China. With his sense of direction. So pinning it on the curse is deflecting. Ryoga has a longstanding enmity towards Ranma born of a million micro-aggressions compounding into a spongey hatred that can't be easily untangled.

You can't just give him a bunch of week-old bread and then it's all good.

He doesn't even remember he's mad about that. Longstanding hatred eventually loses sight of why it ever started to begin with.

(And besides, Ryoga has more recent things to be upset about.)

I like the subtle build-up they lay out to the revelation that Ryoga too has a Jusenkyo curse. Starting when he says this.

It's interesting that he knows that. He should only know that Ranma stood him up and then left town. But he knows Genma took Ranma to China.

There's also his primary weapon that he fights with for most of the episode.

The story lingers on the fact that Ryoga's umbrella is ridiculously heavy. Even Akane can't lift it. The intense weight of the umbrella serves as a yardstick to show how incredibly strong Ryoga is.

And, later, how strong and determined to protect Akane Ranma is.

But there is one more interesting fact about Ryoga's umbrella that the narrative lets slip past without remarking on it: The fact that it's an umbrella. It's almost as if he's afraid of something in particular.

Something you might use an umbrella, specifically, to protect yourself from.

(Again, the way Ranma 1/2 integrates the malevolent effects of something so universal and ever-present as water into its storytelling, comedy, and action is so much fun.)

And it's in the way he takes personal offense at Ranma's comparatively benign curse.

Like. Yeah, Ranma has to suffer gender dysphoria sometimes but he did get off easy. At least he stays human. Other curse-bearers face a variety of drawbacks that Ranma doesn't have to deal with.

Nobody is going to try to cook and eat Ranma.

Of course, human misery is not judged on a curve. Ranma can be miserable with his gender dysphoria and be better off than other curse-bearers. Both of those things can be true.

But the way Ryoga loses his shit over Ranma's curse is another piece of well-placed foreshadowing about the true nature of his grudge.

Lastly, something I find... interesting... is this moment.

I need to unpack this. Ryoga's razor-sharp belt comes spinning down and slices off Akane's hair, with the implication that if she hadn't turned around to yell at Ranma just now, it would have been her head.

Ranma fucked up yet again in the middle of their argument and hurt Akane's feelings with the stupid-ass shit he says. Leading to Akane storming around, then whipping around to argue with Ranma right at a critical moment that saved her life.

But what really makes this fascinating is that it wasn't Ryoga that almost killed her by accident just now.

It wasn't not Ryoga. But it wasn't just Ryoga.

Ryoga brought the razor belt. But it was Ranma who kicked the belt out of Ryoga's hand. Ranma who sent it up into the air, and nearly brought it down on Akane's neck by accident.

It wasn't Ryoga that nearly killed her. And it wasn't Ranma either. It was the fight. And it was, specifically, a kick that was meant to end the fight, an attack Ranma threw in self-defense because the realization that he hurt Akane's feelings made everything Ryoga's about right now stop mattering.

When Ranma threw that kick, he no longer cared about whatever this shit is. He was trying to fix what he'd just screwed up with Akane, only for the unforeseeable consequences of choices he didn't realize in the heat of the moment that he was even making to suddenly come down on her like a razor blade.

It was his cruel words that put her in that spot and his shortsighted reflex that sent the blade into the air. But it was also his attempt to apologize that made her turn around and saved her from a much more grievous injury.

I don't.

Really.

Know what to do with that.

It's just. Interesting.

#ranma 1/2 #drake watches ranma reboot

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lorifragolina · 18 hours ago

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The right time

I know it's not an event but I was inspired by @dragonflylady77 for "Billy Didn't Die" day, so I wrote it really quickly even if I tried to give it some sense. Maybe I'll try to make it an event the next year if someone kind will remember me it next May perhaps? XD

Thanks to @ilovecupcakesandtea for reading and appreciating it beforehand!

WC: 2642 No warnings Steve/Billy, Billy & El.

Ao3

Read it below:

Billy Hargrove didn’t die. He faced the monster, saved the girl, and somehow—against all odds—survived.

Even if there had been a proper funeral, a sealed casket buried at Hawkins Cemetery... even if his half-sister still mourned him, and his death had shattered the lives of half the town—Billy Hargrove didn’t die.

He knew he hadn’t died because he opened his eyes to a white, sterile ceiling while lying in a freshly made bed. The cold air that stabbed his lungs told him plainly: he was alive.

He couldn’t move, but he heard the soft whir of a ventilator, the rhythmic beep of monitors. He felt the weight of his immobilized body, the tug of an IV in his arm, and the overwhelming sensation of not being in control.

He moaned, barely audible, when a nurse entered the room. That moan set off a flurry of activity that left him dazed, until finally, a kind-faced doctor leaned over him and spoke gently.

Billy could barely understand what the doctor was saying, but one thing was clear: he was alive. He didn’t know how, or why.

His limbs were stiff, but within days he could breathe on his own. They stopped feeding him through a tube. They even celebrated when he could go to the bathroom by himself.

His chest was badly wounded, but it didn’t hurt. He felt disgusting after so long without a shower, but eventually, the nurses helped him clean up. It made a difference.

For now, he was confined to the hospital room. The only people he saw were medical staff. When he was finally able to sit up and stay awake for long enough to observe his surroundings, he noticed something odd. He couldn't quite place it.

He’d only been in the hospital once before—after Neil had broken one of his ribs. But this place felt completely different. The equipment looked far more advanced. He suspected he was in some kind of military facility. That would explain the flat, thin screen on the wall that kept bothering him.

One of the first days he could sit up on his own, he glimpsed his medical chart. The name in the top field read "John Doe."

He tried to point it out, but couldn’t make himself understood. When he was more coherent, the questions began.

He told them: his name was William Hargrove. But nobody could find any record of him. They called the police. A couple of days later, two men in black suits and ties came to see him. Their questions were clinical, strange.

"What’s your name? Your date of birth? What’s the last date you remember?"

"I… Billy… William Hargrove. I was born in 1967. I’m eighteen. The last day I remember is July 4th, 1985."

One of the men raised an eyebrow. The young doctor behind them gasped. The other man shot him a warning glance.

Billy didn’t understand why the doctor turned pale, or why the room suddenly felt colder after they left. No one answered his questions. No one looked him in the eye anymore.

The men in suits returned a few more times, asking the same questions. Billy stayed consistent. Eventually, they stopped coming.

After their first visit, the staff around him changed. The kind doctor never returned. The new team was brisker, colder.

They used strange little devices with colorful screens they operated by touch. They took notes, snapped photos, even talked into the thing. It was unsettling. He chalked it up to military tech. Still, he was curious.

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His face looked the same. He was thinner, paler, but still Billy. He was sure of it. He remembered the Starcourt Mall. July 1985. They told him it was now October, and he’d been in a coma for months. Nothing more.

What he didn’t know was this: when the men in suits searched for William Hargrove, they found he had been born in 1967—and had died in 1985 in a bloody accident in Hawkins, Indiana. His federal death record triggered a red alert in a classified facility near Long Island: there, the news was met with urgent swearing, even by classified standards.

Days passed without event, until one morning, unfamiliar guards escorted a tall blonde woman in her forties into the room. She wore a grey pantsuit, high heels, and an unreadable expression. Her voice trembled.

"Hello, Billy," she said.

She looked composed—glasses, tied-back hair, careful lipstick. But her eyes were watery and uncertain.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, sitting across from him.

Billy shook his head.

"We… met in 1985. In Hawkins. I’m Jane Hopper. Maybe you remember that they called me El."

Billy gasped, suddenly breathless. He only remembered El — vividly — as he had met her only a few days before: Max’s friend, who had been in the Starcourt with him when...

He grabbed the glass but spilled almost all the water with his shaking hands.

“Thirty years ago,” added Jane, staring him in the eyes. The pin on her jacket, reading Montauk Inc. – Chief Engineer , sparkled threateningly. “What?”

“Today is 14th October 2015.”

It took Billy a while to clear his head. Jane asked for juice and tea to calm his nerves, and she waited patiently until he recovered enough to speak. She waited, because she knew it would be a complicated conversation.

“After Starcourt, we were all convinced you were dead,” she said, settling into her seat and taking off her glasses. “I believed it until they called me three days ago. To be frank, I think it was my fault. What I’m about to say is confidential, Billy — but I think I can trust you.”

She paused, then continued.

“The government has been experimenting with time travel and mental control since after the war. I’m afraid to say that all the events in Hawkins and the Upside Down are direct consequences of it. We’re all involved. And my team thinks that during the battle at Starcourt, I opened the portal with my powers...”

Billy gasped again. Jane sighed, telling him briefly what he still didn’t know about Hawkins events and her role in all the situation.

“The Montauk Project is a series of government initiatives to study time travel, among other things,” she continued. “We’ve concluded that time travel is possible, and we work to make it safe and controlled.

“There are known anomalies, and some people — like me — can open them. But we still don’t fully understand how they work. My best guess is that I opened a tunnel at Starcourt… and you fell into it.”

Billy had a million questions, but he kept staring at Jane’s pin for a while.

“I just… I just jumped thirty years in a second? That’s it? How… how did I… how can I…”

Jane sighed. “I don’t have answers to most of your questions. We know how to open the tunnel, but it’s not stable. It tends to close after one or two jumps. It’s not like you can go back and forth — you can likely only travel in one direction.”

Billy was still shaking. Jane’s phone rang, and she glanced at the screen, looking worried.

“I have to go now, Billy. I’m sorry, but there’s an emergency. I’ll be back soon, I promise, and you can ask me anything.”

She left him a couple of flyers about the project and exited, leaving Billy alone with his thoughts. *******

Most of the time, he thought about the people he’d known back in 1985. What had happened to his father? He hoped he was already dead, at least. And Max? And her mother? He had left so many unresolved things behind, and they had moved on with their lives — while for him, only a few weeks had passed. What had happened in Hawkins since his... disappearance? If they thought he was dead...

When Jane returned, Billy had many questions, and she patiently answered all she could.

After the Battle of Starcourt, they had faced another powerful enemy who threatened to destroy everything. They eventually defeated it, and then the government covered it all up — helping the survivors relocate, get an education, and even hiring many of them to work on the project.

“Max is working in Europe at a classified location,” Jane explained. “But I wanted to talk to you before rushing to contact her. We need to figure some things out first.”

Billy nodded. “Things like whether I can stay… or I have to be…”

Jane laughed nervously. “We’re not talking about terminating you, Billy. It would be useful to study what effects the jump had on you, but you’re not a guinea pig. Theoretically, I can reverse the portal — I’ve done it a couple of times — but I can’t guarantee success.”

“Do you think I can go back?”

“Do you want to go back?”

“I… I don’t know. Do you think I could cause… problems?”

Jane chuckled at the question — the one everyone always asked her about going back in time.

“Even if I can only answer theoretically, it’s not like the movies. We believe you can’t actually alter your timeline if you return to it.”

Billy stared at his hands for a moment. “And what will happen to you? Or the project?”

Jane shook her head. “Probably nothing. The anomaly already existed in 1985, and it exists here. I can’t guarantee you’ll come back safe and sound — but most of our agents experience only minor issues.”

She opened the door, and a man in his fifties stepped in, smiling and shaking El and Billy’s hands.

“This is Mr. Robertson. He’s one of the few agents we’ve sent back in time to help our teams. We sent him to 1992 last year to share intel — he left when he was 29 and lived and worked from then until now.”

“No paradoxes,” joked the man. “I just get more nosebleeds than before — real pain in the ass.”

“The agents experience minor physical side effects,” Jane added. “But with each trip, the symptoms worsen. That’s why we forbid going back and forth. You can probably endure one more jump. I hope.”

“So you can send me back, and that’s it? And what if I... talk about it?”

Jane pursed her lips. “As with our agents, the jump back kind of… wipes the memory,” she said, glancing at Robertson for help. “You’ll return more or less as you left.”

“And… if I stay?”

“Then we’ll take care of you. In a good way — no hidden agendas, I promise.”

Billy nodded. He asked for time to process everything, and Jane agreed. She gave him a small device and showed him how to use it to call or message her.

A few evenings later, he sent Jane a request he’d been thinking about for days. She allowed it. *******

Jane rang the bell of a detached house in a peaceful neighborhood. She had agreed to Billy’s single request before he decided whether to go back.

Steve opened the door — unkempt and confused, with a scruffy beard.

“Hello, Steve,” Jane nodded.

“What are you—?” Steve started, shocked by the unexpected visit.

“I called, but you never answered. But I have something for you — and I think you need to see it.”

Billy stepped forward, nodded, and looked Steve in the face.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve breathed. Billy sighed.

*******

Explaining everything to Steve wasn’t easy. He stared at Jane blankly, glancing between her — a woman he had known and grown up with — and Billy, a boy who hadn’t aged a day since 1985.

After a while, Jane tactfully left them alone. The two sat in silence for several minutes, surrounded by the mess of Steve’s living room — beer bottles, takeout boxes, books, and CDs scattered on the floor.

“I… I’m sorry I didn’t answer Jane,” Steve said, vaguely waving at the chaos. “I’m not in a good place right now. My husband left me last month.”

“Your… husband?” Billy asked, stunned. “What do you mean?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

“Right. Of course. You don’t know anything about the last thirty years.”

He picked up a silver-framed photo and handed it to Billy.

“This is us. Our wedding day.”

Billy stared at the photo, confused. It was Steve — younger — and another man, hand in hand, heads resting together and smiling. The man had curly blonde locks, a bit of beard, blue eyes, and soft, full lips.

Billy wasn’t sure if he felt scared or flattered.

“Are you… gay?” Billy asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Steve pursed his lips, then nodded, taking back the photo.

“Figured it out in college. Took a few years. Then I realized why I’d been so unhappy in high school… why I have such awkward feelings for some people.” He blushed, and so did Billy.

Billy brushed his fingers over the photo.

“So… they… can marry now?”

Steve smiled. “We’re not there yet everywhere, but things have come a long way.” *******

The conversation faded. Billy had a lump in his throat. Steve wanted to ask why Billy had come, but didn’t dare.

“So… what are you thinking of doing now?” Steve finally asked. Jane had mentioned that the return jump could happen any day.

“I… I don’t know,” Billy replied honestly. “I thought I’d go back. I didn’t think there was anything for me here. But now…”

“Now?”

Billy looked into Steve’s eyes, remembering what he’d felt in 1985 — feelings he’d tried to bury back then, feelings that were now accepted.

“I… maybe I’ll just stay. Be free. Be open.” He held Steve’s gaze.

Steve was confused at first — then he understood.

“Oh,” he said.

Billy shivered and gently touched Steve’s hand. Steve hesitated, then raised Billy’s hand and kissed it.

Billy caressed Steve’s face and leaned in, eyes closed. The kiss was delicate and sweet. Steve’s instinct was to pull Billy down onto the sofa, but suddenly, he stopped.

“I… I can’t, Billy. I’m sorry,” he said, cupping Billy’s face. “I’m 48. You’re only eighteen.”

Billy understood. Steve, Jane, Max — they had lived. He hadn’t. He belonged with them — but in his own time.

“I’ll go back,” Billy said. Steve nodded.

“I just have one question,” Billy added, blushing. “If I go back and… talk to Steve — the past you — do you think that…”

Steve giggled softly and nodded. “Yes. I think so.” ********

“I think the tunnel is stable enough. You should land at the right moment — more or less,” Jane said, tired from the effort of opening it. “Don’t make that face. I’m pretty sure.”

She handed Billy a large brown envelope. “Give this to our agent on the other side.” She hugged him. “Now go toward the light.”

Billy walked through the dark corridor. His scars burned, and something yanked him painfully from inside. *******

Billy shut the door with the package he had just received. A brown paper envelope, thick and heavy. No sender, just the Montauk Inc. stamp.

It seemed important. He sat on the sofa and opened it.

“Important: DO NOT OPEN before July 5, 2015. Classified.”

Billy broke the seal with shaking hands. July 5th. The day after he’d nearly died in 1985 — the day everything had changed. All he had now was a strange scar that ached with the weather and a tendency to nosebleeds.

“Who was at the door?” Steve called, coming downstairs.

“No idea. It’s from Jane, so the letter says. Something that waited for me for thirty years? Does that make sense?” Billy handed the document to Steve.

“Wow. Serious stuff. Let’s read it.” Steve said, then looked at him and pointed. “Oh, you’re bleeding.”

Billy touched his nose. “Oh, shit.”

He reached for a tissue. The box was beside a silver photo frame — a picture of him and Steve in formal suits, exchanging wedding rings.

#stranger things #writing #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #fanfic #billy x steve #jane hopper #billy didn't die

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goldenlionprince · 5 months ago

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How to make your romantic intentions known

Part two to How to stop a know-it-all from showing off (which is now part of the How-to Guides for Inter-house Relationships series) thanks to @eastwindmlk and her comment that brought Ravenclaw Sirius back on my radar xD It's February so the perfect time to bring teenage love and disaster back into the world ;) Enjoy!

[AO3]

He's infuriating.

That's nothing new, really. Sirius Black has been infuriating ever since James had become aware of his existence. But he's even more infuriating now. Not that James had thought that would be possible, but Black just loves to prove him wrong, even now when he's not even saying a contradicting word to James. He's sitting over there at the Ravenclaw table, writing on his overlong piece of parchment – because of course it has to be much longer than required – concentrating fully on his work instead of his breakfast and ignoring everyone around.

Everyone, including James. Which means his brain is not entirely preoccupied with the little kiss they shared after Charms a few days ago, unlike James'. Which only shows again how infuriating he is.

James huffs and takes another piece of toast out of the basket on the table in front of him. He bites into it, his eyes still on Black bent over his essay as he chews. Does Black ever even eat at all? Or is something like eating too mundane for someone so brainy?

“Are you okay, James?” Remus asks, bringing James back to the Gryffindor table.

“Fine,” James grumbles around his mouthful of toast. It's not fine, really, because Sirius Black seems not as affected by their kiss as James is.

He doesn't seem affected at all.

Which is exactly why James can't stop watching him, waiting for even a tiny give away, a small slip up, that reveals what Black is thinking other than total indifference. Because it can't be indifference. It simply can't.

If the boy you drive up the wall with your know-it-all comments kisses you in an empty corridor it just can't leave you feeling absolutely nothing about it.

Not that James has kissed him willingly. It had just happened. Somehow.

Maybe Black had cursed him and that's why James did it. Or he had coated his lips in a love potion so that's why James can't stop thinking about it. That would make so much sense.

Only that it doesn't. Because – as much as it pains James to admit it – Black wouldn't do things like that.

Which just means James is affected by that stupid kiss more than he should be and he has no idea why.

Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe that's why Black can sit over there, focused on his essay, because he already figured out it was a fluke with that big brain of his.

But to make sure it was just a fluke, nothing else, James would have to do it again. To gather more data. Proper research. Just making sure the theory he's come up with is sound.

Which is why he's making his way to the library that very same afternoon without Remus or Peter. He would be surprised if Black would be anywhere else in the castle at this time of day, with no other classes to be in.

James has checked.

Locating the git in the library turns out to be a little more complicated. The library is big, which James already knew, but Black has to be in the most obscure corner of it. Of course. He's flipping through an absolute brick of a book, his hip leaning against the bookcase, looking all cool and casual.

How does he do that?

“This is starting to become a problem, Potter,” Black says and looks up from the book. His grey eyes meet James' with no glimmer of surprise in them, as if he already knew James would show up eventually. “First you're watching me, now we're at stalking. Will I have to be concerned about you suddenly standing in front of my bed in the middle of the night?”

“No,” James says dumbly.

Black sighs and closes the heavy tome with a thud. “What do you want?”

“I was hoping you could help me with some research,” James says, finding his tongue again along with the courage to step closer.

Black frowns and sets the book down on a nearby study table. “What kind of resea-”

James doesn't let him finish. He pushes Black up against the shelf and kisses him, shutting him up before that infuriating mouth can say another word.

It's a second or two of bliss, of James realizing his fluke theory might be utter nonsense, that he actually is interested in Sirius Black, before Black is pushing him back, two fingers staying on James’ chest as if he wants to make sure James stays where he is.

“When I said this is motivation,” he says, his grey eyes pinning James better in place than his fingers do. “I didn't mean it in the way that you can just grab me whenever you feel like it and glare at me from across the hall for the rest of the time in between.”

“I don't glare!” James protests. Black just gives him another look. James gives him a sheepish smile in return and cards a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe I do. But it's just because I thought you might have cursed me into kissing you the first time.”

Black’s eyes somehow turn cold as he crosses his arms over his chest. James feels the absence of his fingers on his chest like a stab of cold air. “Charming.”

“No, no it's fine,” James reassures him. “I know you didn't.”

“I'm so glad, Potter.”

James sighs and drops his hand. “That came out all wrong.”

Black raises one eyebrow in a perfect judgemental arch. “You don't say.”

“Look,” James says, frustration creeping into his voice. Why does Black feel the need to make everything a lot more complicated? “I kind of like you, I think.”

“Wow,” Black says, shaking his head. “You really know how to make someone feel special.”

Somehow that comment is what makes James pause. Because yes, he can see how that’s making him sound kind of shitty.

Black seems to take pity on the crestfallen look on his face. He sighs and drops his arms. “I’ll tell you what, Potter. Sort out whatever this is that’s going on in that head of yours and when you’ve figured out what it is you want you can come find me again. You just want to make out? Fine, I’m interested, but not in a way where only you get to decide when and where it’s happening and I have to wait around until you remember my existence again. You want to be more than just a casual snog?” Black casually shrugs his shoulders. “We’ll see about that. But one thing I want to make very clear.” He taps two of his fingers on James’ chest. “Next time you'll ask first before you just grab and kiss me or I will jinx you in a way that will make it very hard for you to find your ball again, are we clear?”

James swallows hard and nods. He’s not sure if he should feel as turned on as he is.

“Good.” Black says and then turns away to grab his bag and the brick of a book he was looking at earlier. He slings the strap of his bag over his shoulder and gives James one final nod. “See you around, Potter. And tell Lupin he can have my Runes notes when he’s sick again next week.”

And with that he’s gone.

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. When Remus is sick again, not if.

Next week will be another full moon.

Which means Sirius Black – Ravenclaw know-it-all extraordinaire – knows about Remus' furry little secret. Or at least suspects it.

Somehow that doesn’t surprise James at all. A stupidly sappy grin spreads on his lips. If anyone else would have implied Remus' condition, James would have felt threatened on Remus' behalf. But somehow coming from Black, all James feels is pride in Black's stupidly big brain. They have shared N.E.W.T.s classes for less than six months and he's already onto them.

It also means he keeps an eye on James and his friends.

Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, James leaves the library with a skip in his steps.

#hp #prongsfoot #james potter #sirius black #ravenclaw sirius #ravenclaw sirius black #my writing

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bokettochild · 11 months ago

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honestly if Legend is the Link of the next game, io can just imagine him being super embarassed to tell the chain that he has been captured by Ganon XD

Maybe not embarrassed, per say, but ashamed? Most certainly!

If it is him though, it makes sense that he would get captured eventually. He's been doing this for a long time, but I imagine that would take a toll on him both mentally and physically, and after going non-stop for so long, I think it would be inevitable that he'd eventually dig himself into the ground (or, you know, into a portal) if he doesn't take some time off to recover between adventures.

Admitting that to the chain though? Heck no! Unlike Time, i don't see him lore bombing the others with this one, so they never have to know, right?

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend

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twainxavier · 10 months ago

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JOHN CONSTANTINE MEETS DBD TELL ME ABOUT IT BESTIE

Hey bestie!

Okay, so basically it's just this funny little thing of John spotting the boys whilst they're on a case and tailing them confused why two ghosts from different decades are hanging out together doing magic stuff like he does. I haven't worked out how it's going to end yet but it's basically just like a funny "Well I guess these are my ghost kids now" vibe basically XD

Okay, as for a snippet, here's one of my favourite moments so far:

After a few more random loops, it would seem that the two ghosts found what they were looking for, as they sped up their pace and started practically running. It was getting far more difficult to tail them, certainly without getting noticed. Thankfully, John wasn't an amature. He went a different route to the two ghosts that would still end up in the same area they were headed to, and once again thanked his knowledge of London when the two ghosts appeared again. Clearly they'd found what they were looking for as they began frantically searching around the little alleyway. John watched from a safe distance down a connected alleyway, thankfully hidden by the shit lighting. The 80s ghost was pulling a bunch of random stuff out of a backpack that probably shouldn't have been able to fit that much crap in it. So the ghosts had a pocket universe, interesting. The smartly dressed ghost started skimming through a book the other ghost had handed to him, which John recognised as arcane of some variety. They were still searching around, tapping bricks and listening to walls, when suddenly the 80s ghost yells out to the other. “I've got it, mate!” He then pulled a brick out of the wall and reached into the cavity. John frowned and leaned a little closer, curious to get a better look at whatever it was the two of them had been looking for. He watched as the ghost pulled a small baby doll out of the wall, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. It reeked of evil. Even at this distance John could sense it, so strong it almost made him back off. The well dressed ghost flinched a little but then held out his gloved palm to take the cursed thing. “Right, let us put a stop to this, Charles.” The moment the object was in his hand, the ghost began reciting a spell that John was pretty sure he recognised. In fact, on closer inspection, he was pretty sure he had a copy of that book the ghost was reading from. The creepy little doll burned up in the ghost's hand, and he dropped it to the floor, watching it burn. “Well there we go, mate. Another case closed.” The 80s ghost grinned as he spoke, and then went over to pat his friend on the shoulder. “Indeed,” the other ghost responded. “And one less creepy baby doll in the world.” The 80s ghost laughed at that, and they turned and left the way they arrived. John followed again, even more curious about what exactly these two ghosts were up to. They were doing good, no doubt about that, but it didn't make John any less curious. Usually he was very in the know about these sorts of things, he wasn't sure how these two managed to slip past his radar. He continued to follow, until eventually the pair turned down an alleyway and walked straight through a wall. “Bugger.”

Okay so maybe it's more than just a moment but I love this whole scene sooooo yeah XD Thank you for letting me talk about this fic! I really need to get back in the saddle and keep writing <3

#wip ask game #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #dbda #dead boy detective agency #john constantine

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jmbringitonworld · 5 months ago

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Frans Week 2025 - Day 7 - Valentine's

Here is my second contribution to @fransweek . I really wish I hadn't gotten sick and was able to write more days for this event, but alas. At least I'm finally (mostly) over my cold now! XD

This is actually a continuation of Day 1 - Stars, so it won't make as much sense if you haven't first read that one. Both of these fics are set in my bigger, ongoing fic, A Good Father, my AU where Asgore adopts and raises baby Frisk. Just as a fair warning, this particular fic is set towards the end of AGF, when Sans and Frisk are both adults and monsters have been freed, and it contains very minor spoilers for things that will eventually happen later on in the story, as well as one for something that did happen in one of the previous chapters. It shouldn't ruin anything, since, as mentioned, the spoilers are very minor.

Happy Valentine's Day/Singles' Awareness Day!

_______________________________________

When Frisk had asked him to go somewhere with her, late at night, Sans had agreed.

When she’d said that where they were going was a secret, Sans hadn’t questioned her.

When she’d told him to close his eye sockets and let her lead him there, Sans complied.

And when the noise of the bustling city was replaced by the gentle sounds of nature, and the soft crunch of grass underfoot, Sans continued on.

The warm hand in his was all he needed, to know that everything would be alright. Frisk could lead him into hell, and he would trust her to lead him right back out of it.

After everything they’d been through together, the life they’d lived together, the experiences they’d shared, his faith in her was unshakeable.

And so, Sans kept his eye sockets closed as he walked blindly onwards, with only Frisk’s hand to guide him and her voice to direct him.

His patience was eventually rewarded, when the two of them came to a stop.

“Okay, we’re here,” came Frisk’s voice, tinged with excited anticipation. “You can open your eyes now, Sans.”

He did. The sight that met his eyelights was one he would never forget.

The monster and human couple were alone in a wide, open field, with low grass and flower patches almost as far as the eye could see, with only the occasional tree to break up the landscape. A large blanket had been laid out on the ground, atop which sat a spread of several food dishes Sans recognised as coming from Grillby’s bar. A little further away, he spied his old telescope, set up and ready for viewing.

But what most caught his eyelights was the sky.

The vast expanse of space above them was unobstructed by any tall structures, artificial lights, or drifting clouds.

Innumerable twinkling stars dotted an unending, dark canvas. The moon hung high in the sky, luminous and enchanting.

Sans had seen the night sky many times since coming to the Surface, but this… This view surpassed all others. If he had any breath, this would have stolen it. His Soul longed to fly off into space and explore the cosmos.

Only the hand in his kept him anchored to the ground.

That hand gave his a squeeze, reminding his Soul why he would always choose to remain on Earth in spite of the sky’s splendour.

“I asked around at the office, and lots of folks told me about this neat spot outside of the city, where you can get a great view of the night sky,” Frisk shared with him, voice hushed, as if unwilling to disturb the peace and serenity of the empty countryside. “And the human weather channels predicted that tonight would have a clear sky, so I knew that this would be the perfect time to take you here.”

Sans couldn’t think of what to say to that. For one of the very rare times in his life, he was utterly speechless.

Nevertheless, he owed it to Frisk to at least say something.

“it… it sure is… perfect, frisk.” His voice was barely above a whisper, choked as it was by emotion. “i love it…” I love you.

Thankfully, his Frisk had always been able to understand him, even when no one else could.

Her face softened, smile so tender and affectionate it dazzled him more than any starry night sky.

She leaned in to give his nasal bone a quick nose nuzzle, before tugging him by his hand towards the picnic blanket. “C’mon, Sansy. Take a seat and have a burg’. I asked Grillby to prepare a takeaway dinner for us. I think he even added extra when I said it was for a special date! Golly, what a cool guy, haha!”

For once, Sans let Frisk take the reins in their conversation, content to just listen to the happy timber of her voice, and let her excited chatter seep into his Soul, warming him up from the inside out, despite the chilly February night air.

“Hey, Sans?”

The monster in question made a noise of acknowledgment as he munched on a couple of fries. He paused when he noticed the blush on his girlfriend’s cheeks out of the corner of his eye sockets.

“There’s actually another reason why I wanted us to go on this date, tonight of all nights.”

Sans raised a browbone. That admission, coupled with the signs of Frisk’s embarrassment, piqued the skeleton’s curiosity.

The human woman averted her eyes to gaze up at the stars. Sans couldn’t help marvelling at how the stars reflected so beautifully in Frisk’s clear eyes, as if she’d managed to capture the night sky in her gaze.

Sans could feel his Soul thump. The sudden surge of affection and admiration for the woman before him caused his eyelights to turn heart-shaped.

His girlfriend truly was the greatest wonder he’d ever known.

“So I found out,” Frisk continued, “that apparently humans have a holiday called Valentine’s Day, which is meant to celebrate love. Romantic love mostly, though all forms of love are celebrated too in some places.”

Well that was certainly interesting. Humans sure did like having a bunch of different holidays, for all kinds of things, as monsters had discovered. Admittedly, one centered around love did sound like something genuinely fun and worthwhile. It was also reassuring to learn that even humans found love to be important enough to celebrate.

“lemme guess,” Sans grinned at Frisk, feeling his own blush begin to rise on his cheekbones, “this ‘valentine’s day’ is today, amiright?”

Frisk nodded her head. She reached up to adjust her horned tiara, even though the action was unnecessary. Sans knew his girlfriend well enough to recognise this for the self-soothing act that it was, though why she felt the urge to calm herself, he couldn’t guess.

As if to answer his unspoken question, Frisk cleared her throat. “There’s also one tradition in particular which humans follow on Valentine’s Day.” She fiddled with her tiara again. “Apparently, it’s tradition for people to give the one they love chocolates on this day. So…” Frisk retrieved her cell phone to access her personal Dimensional Box, and took out a rectangular box wrapped in bone-patterned paper. She held the box out to Sans, finally making eye contact with him. “Here you go, bone man. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Sans was very rarely caught off-guard, yet somehow Frisk always managed to accomplish it, and so effortlessly as well. Despite knowing her so well - better than anyone, he’d wager - Sans could never fully predict his human. She kept surprising him, time and again.

The monster accepted the gift with a bashful smile.

“aw heck, if i’da known about the whole gift-givin’ thing, i’d’ve gotten you a box of chocolates too, babe.”

Frisk was quick to wave off his words. “Nah, don’t worry about it! It’s a human holiday, so I wasn’t expecting you to know about it. Heck, I wouldn’t have known about it either, if all the humans I work with at the Embassy hadn’t been gossiping for the past few weeks about who was going to give chocolates or flowers to whom.”

Sans nodded his understanding. Still… He didn’t feel good about being the only one to receive a present on a day dedicated to celebrating love. He made a mental note to get a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers for his kind and thoughtful girlfriend, the next chance he got.

With that resolve in mind, the skeleton monster set about tearing off the wrapping paper, and opened the box. Inside, he found a tray full of chocolates shaped like his face. They were clearly handmade and crafted with a lot of care and attention.

His eye sockets widened. “you made these yourself?”

Frisk ducked her head, her previous blush returning with a vengeance.

“Uh huh.” This time, her hands went to fiddle with the heart locket around her neck. “Apparently, in many places, people are supposed to make the chocolates themselves. I think it’s meant to show how much you care about the person you’re giving them to. And, well, since I care about you a whole lot, I made them all on my own.” A beat passed. “Well, actually, Pap created the molds. But I did everything else, promise!”

“huh.” Sans’s eyelights went round and fuzzy. “wow…”

That explained why Frisk was so nervous. She’d always worked so hard on improving her cooking. As easily the best chef in their little group, Frisk had taken it upon herself to make sure everyone was eating well, and healthily. Granted, her only real competition was Sans (who couldn’t make anything more complicated than a hot dog), since none of the others could prepare anything even approaching edible. However, Frisk took her position very seriously.

With no small amount of reverence, Sans plucked one of the smiley chocolates from the box and popped it into his mouth. Gentle sweetness met his magical tongue, tinged with Frisk’s loving Intent. His Soul felt like melting at the flavour.

“Well?” Frisk asked, half nervous, half impatient. “What do you think?”

Sans responded with a wink, before tossing another chocolate into his mouth. “they’re delicious. thanks, frisk.” His adoring smile echoed the hearts in his eye sockets. “i love ‘em.” I love you more.

Frisk practically sagged in relief. “I’m so glad! I worked really hard on them, you know. I just wanted so badly to make tonight extra special.”

Sans set aside the chocolates and reached for his girlfriend’s hands, entwining their fingers together.

“hey c’mon, babe. there’s no need to sweat about this valentine’s stuff so much.” He gave Frisk’s hands a squeeze, sending his magic through the touch in a reassuring gesture. “we don’t need no human holiday to celebrate what we have.”

Frisk smiled at him, her bright eyes making up for her lack of magic, as they conveyed in just a gaze all the love in her Soul.

“I know that, Sans.” She leaned forward to nuzzle her nose against his nasal bone, causing sparks to shoot through his Soul and tingle along his bones. “But tonight isn’t just about Valentine’s Day.” At Sans’s raised browbone, she giggled, and clarified, “Tonight is the night I finally get my wish granted.”

Sans blinked. “huh? what wish?”

His brows furrowed in confusion, as he searched his mind for an answer.

Frisk’s mouth stretched into a self-satisfied grin. “The wish I made when we were just children. When you took me to the Wishing Room. Do you remember that time?” Her smirk widened. “I told you our wishes would come true one day, and I was right!”

A hazy memory floated to the surface of Sans’s mind, before solidifying. He gasped.

“oh, that wish! i remember now!” The look of realisation was then replaced by one of confusion. “hey wait, didn’t that wish come true already? ya know, that time back then, when we first reached the surface?”

Frisk shook her head resolutely. “Nope, that time didn’t count. We saw the stars with our families.” She crossed her arms. ��I wished to see the stars with you. Just you, like before.” The pleased grin returned to her face. “And now I am!”

Sans chuckled, shaking his skull at her fondly.

“welp. congrats, frisk.” He let his hand cradle his skull, as he propped his elbow atop his knee. “so then, are ya happy? is it everything you wished for?”

Frisk tapped a finger to her chin, an exaggerated look of contemplation settling on her face.

“Hmmm.” She soon dropped the act, to instead bestow on her boyfriend one of her most dazzling smiles ever. Sans was captivated. “Oh gee, of course I am! This is everything I wished for and more!”

She giggled, the sound light and airy, wrapping around Sans’s Soul more effectively than any magic, before her smile turned sly.

“Though I was right about another thing.”

She leaned in even closer. Sans was mesmerised by her star-filled eyes.

Her warm breath fanned across his bones. Sans shivered.

“Your eyelights really are even brighter and prettier than the stars.”

Sans froze as Frisk’s word registered.

Heat shot across his skull. He swiftly dragged his hood down over his face as low as it would go.

He groaned. It seemed like no matter how old he got, Frisk never had any trouble sending him right back to hood town.

He really was no match for her.

“quit yankin’ my leg, frisk!” He ignored her cry of, “I’m not!”, and willed his blush to die down. He desperately searched his cranium for a change of topic. “ahem. so anyway… now that your wish has come true, how’s about you make a new one? seein’ as we’ve got real stars to wish to now, instead of just sparkly rocks.”

Frisk allowed this shift in conversation, as the question seemed to genuinely intrigue her. A crease formed in her brows, as she gave the matter some real thought.

Finally, an answer came to her, as signaled by her returning smirk.

It was a look which boded more embarrassment for Sans, whose bones stiffened in response.

“I’ve got it!” she crowed. “I wish that I could see the stars again on our wedding day.”

Sans really should have suspected something of this nature, considering his and Frisk’s shared history. His human had had her Soul set on marrying him ever since she was just a little kid, apparently - much to her father’s dismay. And each time she brought it up, it never failed to set his bones aflame (almost literally, if Asgore weren’t so nice).

After all these years, and all they’d been through together… there really was only one possible response Sans could give.

“then i wish that i could see the stars again with you on our wedding day.”

The smile that bloomed across Frisk’s face was more radiant than all the stars in the sky.

With a squeal of joy, Frisk threw her arms around Sans and clung tightly to him.

“I love you, Sans,” she told him in both words and Intent, her human Soul clumsily trying its best to reach for his, showering him in aimless, but no less powerful, feelings of love and adoration.

Sans reciprocated her attempts with considerably more success, given his magical nature. His own monster Soul pulsed its fierce devotion in waves of pure magic, which wrapped around Frisk’s Soul, bathing it in a song of endless affection. “i love you too, frisk.”

The couple shared a kiss underneath a starry sky. The moon bathed them in its ethereal glow, as if offering its blessing.

Later on, the two lovers cuddled together on the blanket, heart-shaped eyelights gazing tenderly into star-filled eyes. They held each other close, their Souls thrumming in sync, only a hair’s breadth apart.

It was Sans who finally broke the pleasant silence that had fallen between them.

“hey babe?” he whispered softly against his lover’s lips. “i know we said we wished to see the stars on our wedding day, but… i sure hope that’s not all we’re gonna do that night.” Sans wiggled his browbones at Frisk. “‘cause i got some ideas on how to spend our wedding night.” His eye sockets lidded, eyelights burning within their depths. “heh heh heh. we’re gonna have a bone time.”

Immediately, colour spread across Frisk’s cheeks in her brightest blush ever. She squeaked and covered her face with her hands.

“Sans!” she yelled at him, her voice several octaves higher than usual. “C-Cut it out! I can’t believe you, y-you- ! You horndog! Gutterbones!”

As Sans stared in amazement at the flustered mess of a girlfriend in his arms, he couldn’t fight back his laughter.

Maybe he really was the perfect match for Frisk after all.

#JMB writes #fransweek #fransweek 2025 #fransweek day 7 valentine's #frans #sans x frisk #frisk x sans #sans #frisk #frisk dreemurr #asgore adopts frisk #frisk and sans are childhood friends #stupid cold ruining my attempts to be productive and participate in cool events T_T #maybe i'll still try to write at least one more day #even if it won't come out during fransweek

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after-nine-at-the-oasis · 5 months ago

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Watched The Rookie 7x06!! Loved it it was a fun episode :D

I did remember Scott and went :O! Did not remember Gretchen though lol. Like vaguely not no clue where she came from xD

And I kept wondering who the girl from the community center was - ASHA LOL!! The same actress as Asha from 9-1-1 Lone Star xD nice little reminder given this is the first week without it too :')

Glad Celina had fun lol! Poor Lucy and her not getting to have Galentine's though xdd. And I'm so glad they found Claudia :')). And AAHHH they fell in love :'D. Also best dad ever?? Stops at nothing to get her back, attacks the men who kidnapped her with a crowbar, and then goes :D yay great news!! when she introduces the woman she's going to marry :')). Iconic <33. Glad they got their happy ending 🥰.

Hope Seth's doing okay! Sick day for real 😬

Poor Miles and his girlfriend :'(( I'm glad they both get to follow their dreams and be happy but it just sucks D: and I totally get why he would feel like he owes her, it makes sense. But she loves/loved you bro, it's not something that was hard for her/something that needs repaying :'))

Nyla and James looking great 🥳🥳. I hope Anita ends up okay :(, her boyfriend seems kinda 😬😬. And by that I mean very yikes xD. I'm glad they noticed though and were helping her out (as in leave) <3.

Chenford 😳😳!! Woww :OO I figured from the season promo it would be a hook up but thought it might be a mislead, but nope lol!! Happy for them :D. But also YOU IDIOTSS and YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THISS 😭. Gosh, the fools xdd. The neck was such a wild excuse too lol. Very contrived but eh I don't mind it xD. Their scene was cute :)). I was like Lucy you will regret this girl 😭 both of you will 😭 but wh you know xD. And then both being awake was hilarious lol. Also Tim's face when he was sitting up facing away from her :(( gosh, you could feel that one. Anyway, you guys (them) are idiots xdd <3. I'm sure they'll get it together eventually lol.

Also that poor couple where the girlfriend turned him in 😭🥺. He loved her :((. I do see what she was saying but that's rough :'((. Also definitely paralleling/reminding Lucy and Tim lol.

Gray and Luna being icons as always 🥰🥰. This was a great event that she helped plan, and a really cool setting to see them in, proud of her :'D. And these two are sweet as always 🥰 like the food basket to Miles and his girlfriend's room? Aww :)). And loved Luna giving him advice 🥺 <3. His own mother isn't around to do so but she is :'). Anyway, Luna and Gray remain the sweetest (not more than another couples but yk).

Okay I get what Bailey's saying but can I be honest? I'm on Nolan's side. I do understand what she's saying, he tormented her and she just wanted him out of her life, but she committed a crime and was basically implicated/involved in a murder. And while taking steps to get rid of him she refused to take steps to keep herself safe. I'm glad he's gone but I feel like he would've gotten caught anyway, Bailey texting Malvado or not. And I understand why she didn't tell John, but bro. He's literally a cop and you committed a crime. When Wesley committed almost crimes for Elijah because of their deal Angela was basically ready to kill him lol. I don't think it's unreasonable for John to be mad at her at all. I understand the tension of their different stances and will live to see it play out more, but I think Bailey feeling like she's completely in the right and not seeing his side of things (and being angry) is not only a) hypocritical but b) just eugh. I love her I do but I was 😬 with her this episode xd. Her dress was beautiful though lol. I just hope they work things out :(( <333.

And to end on a lighter note, Wopez 🥰!! Nyla DEFINITELY knew Graham liked Angela, like in the first scene, and Wesley being so eager was hilarious xDD. Him and Gretchen are cute though, I'm happy for them :D. Poor Wesley and Angela not getting their room though xd 😭 xD. Why Wesley lol! I think Gretchen and Graham would have been fine lol. Also Wesley saying that these people don't end up their friends anymore (either way this time it works out slfjdjks) is hilarious xD how many times have they done this lol?? Imagine if Wopez were the ones who got Chenford back together lol 💀. Anyway xD. I'm SO glad to know that Angela knew lol. I was thinking she might (or was in denial in the first scene) and when she said "you figured it out" I was pretty sure lol. It is nice that Wesley gets cover for how he found out too lol. And Angela seems understanding of how he felt which is good 🥹🥰🥰. Can't blame her for using the crush lol. Anyway, it almost felt anticlimactic, but I'm glad this storyline ended softly/quietly 🥰. I want them to have drama and storylines but still be happy 😭 xD. And I'm glad they are 🥰🥰. I love them <33.

Loved the episode!! Was super fun :D. Excited for the next one :))!

#the rookie #oasis's the rookie chatter #started this last night and fell asleep and kept putting it off this morning lol (because I knew I hqd a lot to say - only nolan and bailey #and wopez were left lol xD) but here I am :)! the lovelies #wopez #chenford #jailey #is that their ship name #I was boutta just tag nolan x bailey and say I didn't know lol #or john of course #coming back with an edit lol #bailan

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ducktoonsfanart · 4 months ago

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Duck Avenger (Donald Duck as a superhero) and three A.I. plus his three nephews as A.I. - Duck Avenger (Paperinik-Pk-Pikappa) - Duck comics - Duckverse - Duck Avenger AU - My style

Since I haven't drawn Duck Avenger in a long time, I decided to draw it again, but this time related to Paperinik New Adventures and Duck Avenger's connection with A.I., more precisely his mentors (and one villain). Donald Duck as Duck Avenger in the new adventures when he set out to fight the Evronians (alien enemy ducks), he was helped by his mentor named One, more precisely Uno Ducklair who was installed by Everett Ducklair, where Donald works there as a guard for his industry. Apart from Gyro, only Uno knows who the real Duck Avenger is. Otherwise Uno is an A.I. duck for those who don't know. Next is Due, also an A.I., who was installed by Everett Ducklair to replace Uno, if that green A.I. goes wrong, however due to some troubles or maybe a virus Due decided to completely replace him with Uno and became one of Duck Avenger's main opponents. He is eventually stopped by Duck Avenger. Next is Omega, or rather, The Keeper of the Omega Chamber, and he is mainly in PKNE comics, the new issues of Duck Avenger from 2014. He was also created by Everett Ducklair and is tasked with guarding the Omega Chamber, the most guarded part of Ducklair Tower. He mainly helped Duck Avenger when he went to the future, in the 23rd century in Duckburg, to fight against The Organization and the Evronians. Omega is mostly neutrally oriented, but very intelligently inclined, although all three A.I. are intelligently inclined, but the difference is in development where Omega carries that advantage, while the two of them also have a lot of emotion in them.

After seeing how @story-blossom did a drawing with three A.I.s featuring Huey, Dewey and Louie from Ducktales 2017 as Uno, Due and Omega, I was inspired to draw it in my own way, but using Donald's nephews in the classic version, because it makes more sense to me. I am certainly grateful to her for this idea. Why? Well, because Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck are often with Donald Duck, and since they don't know who Duck Avenger is, nor were they with him that much in the PKNA comics, they probably miss him, and Donald doesn't really like it when he gets in so much trouble with his nephews. And the three A.I.s are exactly reminiscent of Donald's nephews. And then I drew them as A.I.s, along with Uno, Due and Omega, as they usually look in the comics and I can say that they are very similar to them. Especially if you connect their personalities from the comics, Ducktales 1987 and Quack Pack, where Huey is the team leader, but somehow has evil intentions (like Due), where Dewey is the intelligent one in the trio team and mostly connects things (like Omega) and Louie who is shy, but very brave in his challenges and likes to help (like Uno). Interesting, right? And how do their names go, Hueno, Dewno, and Louno?! XD So I drew in my own way, how his nephews as A.I. (artificial intelligence or super computers), tormenting poor Duck Avenger in his missions. Poor him.

I hope you like this idea and this drawing and that you love Duck Avenger. Feel free to like and reblog this, just don't copy these same ideas without mentioning me and without my permission, as well as the idea from Story-Blossom who originally did HDL as three A.I. Sure thanks to her for this inspiration! Thank you!

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silverdragon889 · 15 days ago

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Nix and Oriae | Burned Ties AU

Tag List: @pandagobrr @wyvchard @warden-draws-sometimes @sleepywillowo0o @ghostlystarwanderer

Disclaimer: Panda this is your fault xD

Enjoy!

Nix feels his heart lurch in his chest. Is the woman before him really the woman he used to know? His own *sister*, working for Zoraxis and nearly *succeeding* in causing worldwide damage?! He takes a shaky breath. This is his last shot at making her see reason. He grips the bars of the cage she shoved him and begins to plead with her in a way he never would were it anyone else.

Oriae, this isn’t the answer! You keep going down this road you won’t be able to come back, hermana, please. Don’t do this- it may feel right but you’ll be staining your hands and soul with sins you can’t undo. You can’t excuse that away, even when you eventually realize you have no more left to lose.

She snarls at him in a feral way he’s NEVER seen cross her features before it settles into a sneering disdain he hates is becoming familiar territory.

You don’t have the right to lecture me, Damien! Yes, this path I’m on is dark, but the end goal is worth it; it’s worth it if I can finally gain the power and prestige I deserve.

The mask cracks again as she rounds on him like they’re kids again and she’s throwing the world’s biggest tantrum.

YOU are the one who disappeared! YOU are the one who wasn’t there when I lost it all. If you were, then you’d know I already HAVE nothing left to lose! Despise me if you must, but this is what I choose.

Listen, please-

Oh shut UP already!

NO!

He yells from the bottom of his heart. He isn’t giving up yet. He can’t. HE CAN’T. He glares at her with a heat he hasn’t felt since she accidentally tore his blanket all those years ago, even as she starts to walk away.

You’ve gone and lost your damn mind, hermana. You still have so much here in front of you that you refuse to even glance at in favor of a shiny illusion! Drop the sense of entitlement and come to your senses.

She stops, deathly still. When she turns around, the only thing Nix can think of is seeing blood red *ice* in her eyes. His heart stops for all of two seconds.

I refuse. The thing you call a ‘shiny illusion’ is my answer to the universe stripping away my happiness. You can take that claim of entitlement and shove it. I’m not the one losing here.

How would you even sleep with what you’ve done, Ori?! He tries.

Her response is a hollow smirk over her shoulder as she grips a nearby lever.

Well and soundly in plush velvet. Now do shut up, brother dear. Head to your room.

When she pulls it, Nix feels the cage shoot up towards the ceiling and sway a bit from the force, knocking him onto his backside. It’s a bridge burned if he’s ever seen one. He only lets his broken heart grieve for a single second.

After all, it seems there really *was* nothing left to lose.

#ieytd #ieytd fandom #agent bluenix #operative mechanique #oriae stronghart #zoraxis #bluenix lore #Burned Ties AU

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captain039 · 2 years ago

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Lord and lady

Vampire lord Astarion x spawn!reader

Warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, gore, vampire things, eventual smut, swearing, hurt/comfort, sexual

Still haven’t played Baldurs gate three, I’m thriving on YouTube and tiktok videos without trying to spoil the whole thing xD also Gale? A precious baby but also out of body love making xD 😭

Hopefully I can really make red flags and evil Astarion (HAH)

(CHANGED TITLE)

You weren’t even sure why or when it happened, all you remember is cold throbbing and your world disappearing before you awoke. You were wrong though, changed, the sounds of the forest were horrible and loud, the sun felt like a fire burning you and you were so hungry. You’d gone home on instinct mind a craze for something you never thought you’d need, blood. You’d slaughtered your parents and drunk them dry, their blood flowed through your system and you finally came to reality. You’d been in shock horror, you had wailed out into the wooden house, trashed the place before going into a numbness and burying them. You ran from the village, took few things, you wanted to die out in the wilderness, only your hunger forced you to survive. You lived off rabbits, deer, whatever was unfortunate enough to cross your crazed being. Your clothes were ruined and you felt like a hermit, your hair was matted horribly and you looked like a skeleton. It’d been a hot day and you hid in a cave panting at thirst and the warmth, you felt like a rabid dog almost. You had no idea where you were, your backpack you once had was lost to the woods and your shoes and clothes were ruined. You jolted awake, senses on edge and alerted as you felt something close. Your hunger raged and you attacked whatever it was, praying for just a deer, problem was, it spoke. You bit down on its neck, power flooded your veins and your eyes went wide and you stumbled off whoever it was. You shuffled back before getting off the ground and ready to run.

“Stop!” You froze at the word and every single hair on your body stood up.

“Who are you?” He asked and you wondered why on earth he was talking to you.

“Nothing, monster! no one” your voice wasn’t yours almost, it felt wrong, hoarse. Your eyes twitched over the woods wanting to run, you heard critters in the night making you jolt and flinch.

“What’s your name, darling?” He said voice smooth as honey.

“Nothing” you shook your head flinching when he stepped closer, why hadn’t you run?

“Who on earth did this to you?” He said more asking himself as he circled you. Your mind flashed between brown hair, red eyes, strong body and sharp cold fangs.

“A master shouldn’t leave its spawn, the spawn should leave its master” he said huffing and you frowned.

You finally found the will to move your body and sprinted through the woods, you were too quick for yourself practically smacked into every tree before you fell to the ground in agony. You hadn’t been able to cry in a long time, you just laid in the bottom of the forest floor, listening to footsteps getting closed.

“I’ll help you” you heard as someone lifted you and your world went black.

You awoke with a jolt rolling off the overly comfortable surface, you hit the cold floor with a groan. Your mind eyes opened and you stared at the grey floor, where were you? The smells and sounds weren’t familiar.

“Darling?” You heard confused and turned snarling at them. The man from the forest stood there a silk black cape behind him, his chest on display from the extremely low v-neck he work, tight leather top with pants lined with red, black lace up boots, a black jewelled head piece around his forehead, disappearing into his white curls. He approached slowly and you quickly scrambled away and hit the back of the wall, your chest heaved and you couldn’t focus properly.

“Love, you need to calm down” he said and you groaned loudly. A burst of magic left you, knocking the vampire to the ground, a groan leaving his lips.

“Sire?” You heard come from the door.

“Don’t!” The vampire growled, but you had already got up and to run out the door. You knocked over who was at the door, you got lost in the big black castle, the occasional person looking at you confused. You were knocked to the ground though a body covering yours and fangs latching on your neck. You whimpered body going limp at the growl that filled your ears. You knew it was the vampire from the forest, he didn’t drink your blood though, he simply held you there like a wolfs jaw around a rabbits neck.

“Are you done?” He let go and whispered and you nodded hesitantly. You noticed others around you and closed your eyes hoping they’d disappear.

“Leave!” He snarled and hurried footsteps left. He hesitated but slowly lifted his body off yours. You lay limply though opening your eyes again.

“Up” he ordered and your body listened. You stood on shaky legs not looking to him, holding a hand over your neck feeling your blood before the wound healed quickly. You wiped your hands on your pants and tensed as the vampire moved behind you. You avoided looking at him as he stood in front of you.

“Tell me your name” he ordered and you hesitated.

“Y/n” you muttered the name foreign almost. He muttered your name and your body shuddered.

“Why’re you out in the forest living like an animal?” He asked.

“I’m a monster” you said fangs aching at the thought.

“You’re not a monster, you just haven’t been taught” you looked up as he said those words eyes wide.

“I know all vampires around here, who turned you?” He asked and you began to shake.

“I don’t know!” You cried as boots came into your view and a hand held your neck gently. You gasped looking to the vampire, his Ruby eyes stern.

“Open your mind to me” he whispered and you frowned, you didn’t know magic.

“I don’t know how to, I don’t know magic” you said shakily.

“You have it in you” he said as his thumb moved to your bottom lip. Your whole body lit up seeing his eyes intently looking at your lips. He frowned shaking his head slightly and letting your neck go, confusion in his eyes.

“Sire” you heard the voice from before and turned to the person. Another vampire stood there, a young woman, well she looked young.

“What is it?” He asked to the woman.

“There’s an issue requiring your attention” she pressed glancing to you briefly.

“I have issues already, deal with yourself” he snapped and she huffed.

“Syla” he warned and she gave a cold face before turning to leave.

“For a spawn she is defiant” the vampire behind you tsked, how many of them were here?

“How about a bath?” He said suddenly and you frowned at him.

“Kano!” He yelled and you flinched. A dwarf appeared, a human, a pissed look on his face.

“What you want?” He huffed.

“Please take our guest to the bathroom, get some of the ladies to help her” the vampire said.

“Apparently I’m needed” he sighed walking past you and the dwarf, disappearing down the hall.

“Who are you?” The drawf asked and you gulped.

“Y/n” you said.

“Kano” he introduced beginning to walk away.

“Come on then!” He called and you followed. You were confused from the halls and door before you reached a bathroom.

“Molly” Kano called and a black haired woman looked your way, a white dress on her body.

“Oh” she said surprised at you.

“What happened?” She asked looking to the dwarf.

“Our lord found her” he shrugged and she sighed shaking her head.

“Come let’s get you cleaned up” she smiled softly and you frowned, glancing at the dwarf as he left. She beckoned you over before running the bath.

Next part ->

#Astarion #Astarion x reader #x reader #vampires #vampire reader #vampire lord Astarion

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