#if i hate my life so much i should just run into the woods

[sihtsisdrowkcab]

This is... uh, too relatable currently. Man, I'm looking for a job but can't really find one, so I'm just home all the time. I literally don't leave my house and barely eat, and I know I'm being super unhealthy, but I can hardly muster up the energy to make myself a sandwhich, let alone leave the house. And I know farther that i feel better when I'm surrounded by people, but getting the energy to actually plan something is a completely different mountain that I really don't want to bother with, so I just... lay in bed every day. Listing this out though, I think I might invite a friend to hang out today, I really do need to get out of my house

[moonstruckme]

hellooow i love your writing and characterization is so good 🤌🤌🤌 could you write something about james and r talking about their future together and james is like "yess and we'll live in a nice house with two or three little us running around!!" and reader is like "haha thats so cute love but i don't want kids... ._."

Thanks for requesting!

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You tsk, adding a picture to your pinterest board. “It’s decided. Someday, when we move out of this apartment, I simply can’t live without a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.” 

“Mm.” James’ hum vibrates on your chest. He’s been lying there for some time, in and out of dozing while you’re on your phone. “I think that can be arranged. I want a fireplace.” 

“You just want to chop up wood.” 

You feel his smile spread against your skin. “And so what if I do?” 

“It wasn’t a criticism. So long as I can come watch.” 

His laugh is a warm puff of air, followed by a soft kiss just below your collarbone. This commences a fascination that involves his lips making a slow, idle perusal of your skin. “Do you think you want a big house?” 

“Not really.” Your attention has been pulled from your screen, the sight below you too adorable to ignore. You thread your fingers into James’ hair. “Too much cleaning. Honestly, if you have any questions you should just look at my pinterest. I’ve got it all laid out. We can make room for whatever TV you want, though, I suppose. Plus a secret tunnel to Sirius’ and Remus’.” 

“Obviously,” he agrees. “Yeah, I’m the same. All I need is my fireplace, you, and maybe a nice backyard for the kids.” 

Your hand stills on James’ head as a heavy weight drops into your chest. 

You’ve managed to evade this conversation, you’re not sure how. You’re not sure why either. Maybe just to make a good thing last, for as long as you could. But you know how much James loves kids. And if you’re honest with yourself, this, the proof that he does expect them one day, has always felt inevitable. You feel like a liar for not bringing it up with him sooner. 

Maybe it worsens your deception, but you keep your tone light as you ask, “Would you settle for a backyard for a couple of dogs instead?”

James gives a little laugh, tinged with bemusement. It makes you feel worse. 

“Or cats,” you say, voice growing smaller. “Or no pets, up to you.” 

It’s probably your obvious unease that tips him off. James looks up at you. You straighten his glasses for him automatically. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, and there’s no accusation in his tone, only curiosity. 

A low buzzing burrows into your ears, not unlike how you imagine it’d sound if you were drowning. 

“I don’t really want kids.” 

James’ face falls, and your heart splinters. 

“You don’t?” It’s like he thinks he might’ve misheard you. 

You shake your head. “I’m sorry,” you say, immediately angry with yourself for apologizing but not angry enough to overshadow your guilt. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I just don’t. It’s not that I hate kids or anything, I just, I don’t want to have any of my own.” 

“Oh.” The word seems to leave James on a breath, faint and hollow. “Okay.” 

Your eyes burn, and you cannot cry right now but you can’t seem to shut up either. “If I ever did want to, it would be with you. But I just—” your voice fractures “—I don’t want to bring kids into a home that doesn’t want them, even if—if it’s only me that doesn’t. It’s not fair.” 

“No, you’re right.” James’ voice sounds a bit more like him now. He’s nodding, slowly, like he’s still wrapping his head around things. “You shouldn’t have kids if you don’t want them. For you and for them.” 

You nod. Hot tears trudge down your cheeks. 

Wordlessly, he sits up and wraps his arms around your shoulders. James is a really good hugger. Tight and warm, like he’s given and received plenty in his life. You know he’d be a great dad. Any kid would be lucky to have him, someone who comes from a love passed down and strengthened through generations. You’re just not meant to be a mom. 

You hold onto each other tightly, and you wonder if it’s the last time you will. You know in your heart that you’re doing the right thing for yourself, that you should never make such a life-altering choice based on someone else, but right now you’re desperate enough to consider it. You think you might do anything to keep him. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

James pushes his face into your neck. You think, to your horror, that he might be crying too. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “I don’t want you to be sorry, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.” 

“I wish that I wanted to.” 

“You don’t. It’s okay.” 

You sit there like that for long minutes. When James pulls back, he sets his hands to your face, smiling ruefully as he thumbs away your tears. You choke out a little laugh and do the same for him. You have the urge to kiss his cheek, warm and beloved, but you don’t know if you should. 

“We can have pets,” he says in a quiet, rough voice. “And if Sirius and Rem or Lily or anyone has kids, I can just be their favorite uncle.” 

“You would be,” you say. “Being their aunt would be fun, too.” You study him anxiously. “Are you sure?” 

James’ lies down beside you, seemingly exhausted. “Sure about what?” 

You chew the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know, I guess that you’re okay with this.” 

He doesn’t answer right away, which you appreciate. You want him to think about it. A sigh leaves him, long and heavy. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to the idea,” he says finally. 

“But…for right now, you don’t want to break up?” 

“What?” James turns to look at you. Whatever he sees makes his face soften. “Oh—no, honey, I don’t want that. That wasn’t even…I wasn’t thinking like that.”

“Are you sure?” you ask again, though it threatens to bring another wave of tears. “I know you pictured things differently. I’d get it.” 

“I always wanted all of that with you,” he says, soft and yet somehow firm. “It’s going to take me some time to change how I picture the rest, but you’re not going anywhere. Not if I can help it.” His mouth curves slightly as he holds out his hand in invitation. You place yours in it. He brings your palm to his lips, kissing your heart line. “It’s you and me, yeah?” 

A pleasant feeling skitters up your arm to sit in your chest. “Yeah.”

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[softspiderling]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

rafe: i really fucked up.

rafe: i miss you

Your laughter died in your throat when the your phone lit up with the new text notifications. Clearing your throat, you turned your phone around, screen faced down, pasting on a smile, but JJ immediately noticed your mood change.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” you answered, giving him a tight smile, wincing a bit. Even to your own ears, your voice sounded off.

JJ smiled at you sadly, reaching around to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You really liked him. He was nothing like Rafe. JJ was fun, easygoing, chill. No one has ever made you laugh so hard like he did. But then again, he was nothing like Rafe.

“It’s okay if you want to go back to him, you know,” he started. Your eyes widened and you quickly shook your head.

“What? No way. Where did that come from?”

JJ let out a sigh, leaning back on the couch, running his hand through his already messy hair. He was beautiful. And you really really wished that you could love him the way you did Rafe. It would make everything so much easier.

“He’s a dick. Don’t get me wrong,” JJ chuckled dryly. “But I can tell that you still…”

Care for him?

Love him?

Hate him?

All of the above.

JJ didn’t finish his sentence, letting out an angry breath with a headshake. “Look, I’m really into you. But I know this isn’t going anywhere if you’re still thinking about him… So maybe…. Maybe you should just get back to him. See that he’s not really the guy for you. And when you’ve finally realized that-”

When.

Not if.

When.

“You should give him a call.”

You only sat there, stunned, unsure of what to say and JJ lifted his head to look at you, giving you a wry smile.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re only making this harder.”

He leaned in, slowly, pressing his soft lips against your, kissing you so gently, like he was scared you’d pull away. But you kissed him back, your hand coming up to cup the back of his neck. But JJ laid his hand on yours, slowly pulling away. You opened your eyes, not even aware that you had closed them and JJ winked at you, slowly dropping your hand.

“You know where to find me, yeah?”

With those words, JJ got up, disappearing into his bedroom, the door shutting behind him, leaving you by yourself. You sat there for a while, contemplating whether you should follow JJ into his room or leave, knowing that the choice had much bigger consequences. You looked at the closed door, before you got up, your feet automatically walking you out of the shabby trailer. You walked in the darkness, hoping you would get to the main street without walking headfirst into a tree, when the headlights of a car pulled into the unpaved road. Blinking, you raised your hand, covering your eyes from the blinding light, when the engine was turned off, a car door opening. Foot steps came closer, and for a second, you were scared, until you felt familiar hands curl around your wrist.

“Baby…”

You let out a sigh, looking up to see your ex boyfriend.

“Rafe, what are you doing here?”

Rafe’s mouth was downturned, and in a familiar move, he lifted a hand to push your hair back gently.

“Didn’t you get my messages?” he murmured quietly, in the privacy of your presence. “I’m sorry. I fucked up…”

You scoffed, turning your head away, staring into the dark woods.

“I…” you broke off. “I was with JJ,” you then said, hoping you’d anger him, to give yourself a reason to leave him. For real this time.

Rafe clenched his jaw and he nodded quickly. “Yeah. I know. Why do you think I’m here?”

“He’s… Different. He’s not like you.”

“I know.”

Rafe didn’t make any sign of defending himself, or starting an argument with you. Which was fair. You knew who he was when you first started dating him and what was the use of comparing himself to JJ?

You let out a shaky breath, before turning to look at him.

“If you ever do anything like that again, I swear on my life you’ll never see me again,” you said, and Rafe started smiling at your words, nodding his head.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course baby, it’ll never happen again,” he promised, cupping your cheek, leaning down to kiss you, his lips pressing against yours urgently, like he was drowning and you were the oxygen.

In the quiet stillness of the night, you found yourself falling back into the familiar rhythm of his touch, the familiar taste of his lips, knowing you made the right decision. JJ was never going to be like Rafe and that was exactly the point.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: i wanted to write something fun. oh well. maybe next time

[star-girl69]

protective clarisse save me ANWAYSSSS enjoy

*mentions of clarisse picking reader up and carrying her around

PLEASE ignore the fact i forgot ambrosia existed thanks 🙏🙏 yk i just be saying stuff

it starts out like any capture the flag game

except for the fact you’re on different teams

like in so it goes when clar tells y/n “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do”

everyone once in a while the teams switch up

and clarisse has a really hard time when you’re not on the same team, but she can usually function

she’s worried out of her mind obvi

we all know you’re her achilles heel

but for some reason this time clarisse just has a really bad feeling

she’ll probably threaten everyone on her team- if they so much as LOOK at you in the wrong way she’s going to make their lives a literal hell

and everyone is like ok scary lady 🫡

they all know clarisse don’t play about you

so the game is going pretty normal

you’re just doing your thing and clarisse is hunting around you

it’s really funny because you and a few of your siblings are just fighting whoever makes their way to you

and you win every time

bc clarisse is still letting you win 😭😭😭😭

the good members of her team get told to turn around

and then she lets the weaker ones, the stragglers she doesn’t care about, pass through and then smiles when you cheer after winning even tho she can’t see you

you feel her eyes on you tho sometimes it’s kinda creepy

but basically annabeth and the blue team had set up these trenches in random parts of the wood

they were lined with like a bunch of leaves and spare linens so they were soft at the bottom

but someone 🙄🙄🙄 ugh

forgot to soften up one of them and that’s the one you fall into

she hears you scream and she’s like WOAH HOLY FUCK

running through the woods you’re crying at the bottom of this 6 ft deep hole your siblings are screaming

like she literally throws herself to the ground and drags you out of the pit pure adrenaline

and like she could tell just by your screams and the look on your face that you were HURT HURT

but she knows you need her rn so she pulls you into her lap and asks what hurts

and you can’t even speak you’re in so much pain but you gesture to your leg and maybe clarisse just didn’t want to notice it before but like that bitch is BROKEN

she’s literally shaking

“it’s okay it’s okay baby it’s okay someone is gonna go get a healer right? SOMEONE IS GOING TO GO GET A HEALER, RIGHT?”

*cue like 10 random campers all running off*

and you’re screaming and crying and your siblings are freaking out so the game kinda stops bc everyone is like what happened 😭

then they just walk into this clearing and see you pale and crying and leg obviously broken, sitting in a shaking clarisse’s lap

one of her siblings definitely has to come over and subtly say that she’s like doing a good job LMAO

bc she is STRUGGLING

like she’s never been so scared in her life

her heart is pounding her hands are shaking

but for the first time in her life she’s not really angry right now

she’s just fucking terrified

and she HATES it

she’s stroking your hair and has her arm wrapped around your waist so tight

she tells you “just dig your nails into my arm”

and you can’t even comprehend what’s going on so she grabs your hands and let’s you squeeze so hard she swears her fingers come out a little crooked

FINALLY some apollo kids come over with a stretcher

so then she starts yelling at them “BE GENTLER SHES HURT DUMBFUCKS”

then finally after clarisse’s incessant screaming she holds your hand as they take you back to the healers

then 20 minutes later they reset your leg and put it in a little cast and give you some AMAZING painkillers

so you’re like omg

clarisse is like pale and sweaty and her heartbeat is so erratic one of the healers actually has to come over and be like “maybe you should sit down and get checked out..?”

she starts screaming at them

then you’re like “omg no my saviors are fighting ☹️☹️☹️☹️”

“no no i’m sorry i didn’t mean to make you sad it’s fine it’s fine we’re not fighting”

“yay!!!!!!!”

she has to lay down in your bed and take some really deep breaths in order to calm down

and you’re just happy bc you are floating and you have your gf with you

you’re babbling on about something and clarisse is like wtf is happening to me

but also she’s acting like you just died

holding your head to her chest and staring off into the distance like that one painting of ivan the terrible holding his dead son y’all know

and you’re just happy

she’s kissing all over your face and head and telling you about how she’s gonna help you

“i’ll carry you whenever you don’t feel like using your crutches, i’ll make sure you take all your medicine, i’ll find and kill whoever did this to you, i’ll sleep with you every night just in case, and i won’t let you out of my sight ever again, and i’ll make chiron switch the teams back”

she ends up doing all of those things obvi

she annoys chiron so much he makes a permanent rule that the ares and your cabin always have to be on the same team

clarisse becomes 10x worse in terms of protectiveness

like she’s watching you like a HAWK

she just felt so totally helpless in that moment so unprepared and she never wants to feel like that again

she doesn’t think her heart can take it actually 😭

she does find the person and loses dessert privileges for 5 months for what she did!!!!!

she sleeps with you ever night bc the meds make you sleep restlessly and she’s always there to whisper in your ear and lull you back to sleep

even if you’re like oh i can just use my crutches she’s always staring at the ground like it’s a monster that’s gonna hurt you so she’s like

“hm well i don’t think so actually haha just let me carry you”

“I WANT TO WALK CLARISSE”

*picking you up* “no it’s fine this is safest”

“LET ME DOWN”

basically you’re just the love of her life and she can’t imagine something else happening to you

[zara-renata]

Alike and Cornered Beast: Sylus's POV

Summary:

I was desperate for Sylus's point of view during the first time that MC meets him in the Alike and Cornered Beast chapters of Long-Awaited Revelry. So I uh wrote it myself. I wanted to know why he touches MC so reverently but also quite brutally, so I spent a lot of time thinking about possibilities.

A/N:

Sylus x gender neutral reader/MC, second person POV (but we don't use Y/N in this house). Brief, derisive mentions of Xavier and Zayne (this is Sylus's POV after all, don't come for me). I love all the LIs, but Sylus has his hand wrapped around my throat and I see him as arrogantly having something to say about the other people who are also interested in his shiny treasure. He has mean thoughts about the other LIs, but he can be mean and we love that for him. Slightly canon divergent if you believe Sylus can't tell that MC is scared and repulsed by him until the shopkeeper informs him. I however believe this man is a little more perceptive than that. CW: violence, cursing, rude language, death, grief, murder, ok this is Sylus hello, non-consensual (non-sexual) touching of MC, metaphors involving hunger and blood, overuse of the word "lovely," but Sylus is a simp and it's mostly his POV so we must endure it. SFW, although clearly there is a thread of desire running beneath the interactions depicted ao3 link here

He doesn’t need the aether core in his eye to know how you're feeling. He can see it in the way your lovely jaw is locked tight, teeth clenched behind soft lips twisted into a tight line. The shudder you’re trying and failing spectacularly to repress, desperate to conceal your weakness: the fact that almost as much as you fear him, you hate him.

Almost from the very beginning, things have been going sideways for Sylus. First, that imbecile having the hubris to believe he could just pilfer what had clearly been claimed as belonging to Onychinus.

Second, the palpable fear that had juddered through you as he had graciously relieved the larcenist of the burden of his pathetic life, only for that fear to flare into bright, barely controlled hate once you figured out that using yourself as bait had succeeded in reeling in the largest predator in the N109 zone.

Third, even when he sauntered close to you, allowing you to drink your fill of his face, no other spark of recognition fired besides that of the leader of the most powerful criminal organization in the region. You didn’t recognize him personally at all, even as he hungrily mapped your face with his eyes and felt the bottomless well of want deepen even further in his heartless chest.

You didn’t remember a fucking thing. And for some reason, you hated him more than his worst enemies. And he had quite a large body count in the worst enemy column of the ledger of his existence.

The fear, he can understand. Onychinus is on the Hunter Association’s Naughty List, and you’re one of the Association’s true believers, a jewel in the hilt of their blade composed of naïve warriors. And like the noble, naïve creature he knows you to be, you firmly believe that any intel they fed you about him and his organization was the pure, unfiltered truth.

But the hate? He muses as he looks down into your upturned face, a face that has been carved into his dreams for weeks now, ever since Mephisto had reported back after scouting the Flux Nexus in the no-hunt zone. Ever since the night he finally found you, stumbling around and battling at the side of your sleepy, cunning rabbit of a partner in the dark wood, oblivious to the real danger perched amongst the leaves, watching through mechanical eyes. His lips twitch in an ironic smile, as he knows he should be grateful to the rabbit for the fact that you’re in front of him now, so agonizingly close. He can see the rise and fall of your chest. The breath you exhale, for him to inhale. All he has to do is let his hand do what it wants—reach out, fingertips drifting softly along the curve of your cheek, your throat, the pulse point that betrays your racing heart. You’re close enough that he could swallow you whole. A good man might be grateful, but he isn’t a good man, and he doesn’t have it in him to be grateful; he only catalogues the threat, and tucks away the thought of the light evolver to be a problem to contemplate, and solve, another day. Right now, he needs to solve the problem of why you hate him on a level that professional distaste can’t explain. The hate he sees in your bright, sharp eyes is personal.

Consequently, he might not need the aether core in his eye to know that you hate him, but he sure as hell needs it to figure out why.

He knows he should wait to use his power on you. He knows that strategically, the best play here is to move slowly, to rebuild your trust, to tease out what he wants from you, to prove to you that despite every instinct that the Association has indoctrinated in you, he is not a threat to you and never will be. He knows all too well that one can’t force trust and forge an equal relationship from coercion, but he doesn’t have the time. Not with the entire Nest on the hunt for his Prey tonight, not with his own house in chaos with Sherman running amok and running up the bill on collateral damage. He needs to know why you hate him so that he can deal with it now, all of it. To borrow the vocabulary of another one of your hapless suitors: now is the time for triage, and after he has assessed the carnage, then he will begin suturing the aftermath. Sylus may be a businessman, but he can appreciate a surgeon’s precision in approaching a crisis. Even if Sylus can’t appreciate the iceman himself, if only for the lingering looks the doctor indulges in when his patient is looking the other way. Sylus files this problem away, like the other, to be solved in quiet solitude another day.

So he indulges in a lingering look of his own, fingers twitching with the need to touch where they’re deceptively, casually resting on his hips. And then: Sylus lets himself look. He can feel the familiar warmth increase within his eye socket, the ember beginning to glow hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable, and then truly unbearable, as it is every time, the price he must pay so that he may see.

A little silver apple on a chain.

A pair of smiling eyes.

An old woman’s hand placing a dumpling on a plate.

The relief of realizing that the danger has dissipated, and dinner is still waiting.

A strong, broad back, shoulders shaking with laughter as a door swings shut.

Almost from the very beginning, things have gone sideways for Sylus. He shuts his eyes, feels the heat and the pressure fade like grief with time, as the power in his aether core goes dormant once again. But you haven’t had time, have you? It’s still fresh, the wound still hemorrhaging. You think that he caused this. You’ve been bleeding for months, thinking it was his hand that wielded the knife lodged in your heart. Or rather, detonated the bomb that incinerated the only family you’ve ever known, leaving a smoking crater where your heart used to be.

Sylus’s mind races, compiling this new information, archiving the whys and hows, constructing and reconstructing his carefully assembled plans and all of the contingencies in between, laughing derisively at himself for not seeing this possibility coming. Sideways is an understatement. Things are well and truly fucked, Sylus thinks, looking into your lovely, livid face.

For a moment, an unfamiliar sensation drifts through his chest. He tests it gingerly, letting it cascade through him before he can identify it: despair. After all this time. Every year, month, week, day, second, breath, he has been carving a path towards you, littered with the broken dreams and broken bodies of others, and now he has finally found you, and what should have been his greatest victory (the spoils? His fingertips drifting up your silken skin, his fingers entwined with yours, home), may have been his greatest loss—a loss that is for once, despite all of his crimes and all of the corpses at his feet, every terrible thing he has ever done, not his fault at all.

He savors this strange feeling for a few heartbeats, indulging in it, pressing into it like a bruise, if bruises would actually remain under his skin. And then he discards it: the unexpected rarely obstructs his carefully laid plans, but nothing about you has ever been expected, has it? If he were the kind of man to resign himself to unexpected loss, like the other men clumsily flitting around you, he’d have been a dead trophy tossed at the feet of an enemy long ago. So the rules of the game have changed. So what? Sylus will adapt, because no matter his fucking luck, he is playing to win.

Because while gazing into the depths of your beloved eyes, Sylus not only saw the why of your hate, but the only thing that could soothe it. Something that you refuse to admit, even to your fundamentally honest self. Something you can’t admit, as you spend insomniac nights training until collapse, as you slice, maim, and end wanderer after wanderer, as you bare your teeth a little too savagely as blood spills beneath your fist and blade. You need vengeance. You need someone to hurt as much as you’re hurting. And not just anyone—the wanderers and criminals that you’ve trained your fists and pistols and blade on do not satisfy the blood-thirst burning through your veins. You need to punish the person responsible for the inferno in your chest. Maybe then you’ll be able to sleep again. Maybe then you’ll be able to not smile again, but at least retract the fangs that have been frightening the people around you for months now. The fangs you feared were always there, underneath the careful façade of the well-adjusted, law-abiding, healthy paragon of a hunter you’ve built to keep the nightmares at bay for years, to show your colleagues, your partner, your doctor and your superiors: Look, I’m harmless and righteous, the perfect tool, love me, love me, love me, please do not leave like everyone else I've ever loved.

And Sylus? Sylus has always, and will always, endeavor to give you everything your damaged heart could possibly desire. He knows that you will not believe that he was not the one who ripped your ‘family’ apart. And he knows that it will take time, time that he does not currently have, to rebuild what has been lost between the two of you. He recalibrates, sweeps aside the despair, and reinforces his resolve. If you want to exact vengeance on the person you think is responsible for all of your indescribable pain, Sylus will give his heart to you on a bloody platter, regardless of the pain it will cost him.

You need someone to hate right now to stay strong? So be it. He will be that for you, until he can locate the actual culprit. As he reaches out, ever so gently trailing the backs of his fingers along your hauntingly lovely face, he tells himself for a moment that he can't bring himself to use something so impersonal as the energy of his evol on you. But who is he kidding--Sylus is many things, but a liar is not one of them. He admits to himself that this is just him finally giving into his deepest desire, as he lets his hand drift from your face to the side of your neck, closing around your throat and lifting. He does not want to handle your precious form with such brute, concise strength, but he needs to hurry, he needs answers and he needs to fix this, now now now and you need him to be the enemy. This is what is best for you at this moment, in this place, and he only ever wants what is best for you, so he plays the part you need him to play:

"From your past to your future...to even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit. After all, you and I...we're the same. True kindred spirits."

As your body goes limp from his chokehold on you, he catches you, cradling your head in his hand, grateful for the strength of his body, the shelter he can provide you as he lifts you in his arms, holds you tightly, your chests finally close again, yours too full of a maimed heart and his missing one entirely, complementing each other, completing each other, even though you’re out cold and it will take so much—too much, too much, it’s already been too much time, you’re finally here, you’re finally in his arms, where you should have been all along—time to be able to have you in his arms like this but with your eyes wide open and fixed on his.

Later, when you wake up, in a dark room with this familiar stranger disdainfully staring you down through crimson eyes, as his evol winds itself around you, as it jerks you onto his big lap, you clench your teeth, you fight the tears of frustration and fury—why do you always cry when you’re angry? Is it not humiliating enough to lose control of the leash on your emotions, without tears spilling down your face to betray you to the object of your rage?­—and you fight desperately against the immovable force pinning you in place.

"I want to kill you myself," you grit out, through the tears and the snot running down your face.

And then this man places your gun in your hand, eyes bright as blood never leaving yours, in answer to the quietest, deepest buried desire of your limping heart that he has driven you to saying out loud. Your hate flares, because how dare he expose you to yourself in this manner? Who does this motherfucker think he is, casually extracting from your own mouth and offering you that which you couldn’t before name in hushed whispers, as if it means nothing to him, as if it costs him nothing, his sharp jaw relaxed, a ghost of a smirk curling the edges of his wide mouth? You fight it, the surge of hunger that chokes your panting breath—you fight it so hard, you’ve been fighting it for so long, ever since the piercing ringing in your ears began to sound that replaced your grandmother’s and Caleb’s laughter, the ringing silence that followed as debris rained down on your useless, injured body. You are not a mindless animal. You will not give in to this voracious want. You and this man holding your gun to his own heart are not the same, and never will be.

“Do you need some help? Yes? No? Maybe so?” His voice is the purr of a jungle cat, his hand, large and just as calloused as yours, envelops your own, with that same bizarre gentleness that you can’t even begin to interpret the why of, his finger drifting along your own, until it slowly tightens over yours. Your mouth says “No,” and you see how his eyes dart from yours to your lips and back again, but the hunger inside you howls as this man presses your finger against the trigger and the sound of the bullet leaving your gun drowns out all of the other noise in the cacophony of your thundering heart.

His big body jerks back, head hitting with a painful sounding thump against his melodramatic throne (ok, so it's just an antique chair, but honestly, where do villains buy ridiculous props like this?), and for an endless moment in time, the hunger is satiated, and a sense of triumphant relief courses through you instead. And then your vision sharpens, as blood the color of this man’s eyes begins to pour through the hole he—and you, we, together—just shot into his fucking heart.

He jerks the gun from your grasp and tosses it with a loud clatter to the concrete floor.

“You—Are you fucking crazy?” You’re moving before you realize it, palms pressed over his heart (a spiteful part of you hopes that it hurts him, even as you are suddenly overwhelmed with the terror that he is actually going to die, before you get any answers, before you get any help, before you’ve accomplished anything at all).

“You wanted to take my life,” he pants. It never hurts any less, no matter how many times it happens. He can feel his flesh knitting back together already, each stitch as painful as the one before. “And so you’ve taken it.”

Despite the pain, Sylus watches you leisurely, drinking in the blood splatters across your lovely neck and chin. My blood, he thinks with satisfaction. He wants to soak you in it. He wants to watch you bathe in it. He shakes his head, tucking that urge away for later contemplation. He is finally in the position to do what he has been craving for so, so long. He has given you what you want. Of course he will always give you what you want. However, that doesn’t mean that he can’t simultaneously get what he wants—Sylus strongly prefers deals when they’re win-win. He has given you what you wanted, and the slate is now clean. Now, it is time to begin negotiation of the highest stakes deal of his life: the acquisition of your body, heart and soul. Back at his side, where you belong.

“Now what? Have you already figured out how you’ll pay me back?”

[steviebunny]

2. Glorified Cult Leader

Dubai

"So Daniel, do you have any questions?"

The reporter stares at Louis in near astonishment, removing his glasses to rub his aching head.

"About the woman with the face full of teeth? Yes, I have fucking questions! You had that one in disguise this whole time" Daniel motions to Armand with his glasses "Should I assume there's a demon lady pretending to dust shelves in a sexy maid uniform somewhere around here?"

Louis crosses an ankle over his knee with a slight laugh, Armand's arm loops over the back of the back of the sofa and rubs his hand. "No. Nothing like that. Patience Daniel and good things will come, let the story take you where it needs you to be."

___

Paris

The Rusalka moves gracefully through the vast library shelves, fingers gently grazing cover after cover. Heeled shoes moving after the other creating an echo off the marble floors. Her head raises, no longer lost in thought- she sniffs the air.

"You can come out, you're not nearly as sneaky as you seem to think you are."

A tapping of leather soles against the floor much like her own sounds from behind her.

The well-dressed leader she met the other evening walks out from behind a shelf, he leans against the wood shifting his weight onto one hip, placing his hand in his coat pocket with well-rehearsed grace. 

Her eyes trace over him and then roll “If you’re trying to kill me I wish you luck, it’s not easy.”

“Who says I wish to end your life?” 

“Your kind is territorial, I haven’t had the best experiences in the past, can you blame me for running? Not to mention your man chased me, not a very good first impression.” 

“Santiago is not my man.” His stoicism falls face curling in disgust at the accusation. 

“Right, you’re paired with the bookworm.” Her eyes shine and something swipes sideways, blinking slowly like an alligator. 

“You’re no longer deemed a threat. Siren. But you’re perspective, we could have a place for one of your kind in the coven. So long as you behave of course.”

“Wrong.” 

“Hmm?” His eyebrows perk up and his head tilts. 

“Not a siren. Similar, but I don’t sing. And I don’t lure unfaithful men to the depths. I just eat the evil ones, it’s a lot less dramatic that way.”

“You get to define what evil is?”

“Yes. You, vampires, are so strange…you love each other so purely, even when you hate. It’s so obvious, but you keep screwing each other over? I can’t tell if it’s a self-preservation instinct or not. I think you’d be a lot happier if your covens were big love fests instead of the whole master-servant dynamic.”

Armand scowls, fangs dipping slightly with a cat-like hiss. “You think yourself omniscient? We need structure, solitary vampires either wither by their lonesome until they meet the flame or sow chaos in their wake. Humans always search for more, money, power, love, knowledge, more. Why hold on to this part of your humanity when you can live content? A part of something better, the coven offers such.”

The rusalka laughs and her melodious voice has a sharp screech-like tinge to it- “Content! Oh, so great coven leader!” She cries clasping her hands together, pressing them against her face. “Who surrounds himself with sycophants, Truly the best representation of a content being, yeah? You vampires want just as much as I do. You’re not built to be lonely, companionship is in your blood. So don’t preach to me about contentment you glorified cult leader.”

Armand steps closer, face inches from the rusalka towering over her, he removes his sunglasses- tucking them into his chest pocket he looks deep into her eyes and calmly with a sneer says “You’re vulnerable. It makes you weak. We are not the only coven in France and you will not be able to run forever. Unless of course, you aim to end your studies so quickly after arriving.”

“How’d you…?”

“I may not be able to read your mind but this place is flooding with your peers. It’s quite the story you’ve concocted for yourself, the best lies are rooted in some truth are the not?” 

“My vulnerability is my power, just as yours could be. Screw your rules and your laws, going behind each others backs to make things end up your way. Just to end in failure. May it be a century or a millennia from now, but still failure.”

“Then let me offer you this. Join the coven. Prove to them why the laws should change.”

—

Dubai

“Is this my cue?” Daniel had been imagining this voice since it was first described to him but the reality was something else altogether. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to pick up a maid’s uniform. I know how much you like the Univision style.” The woman rounds the furniture flashing a smile at the two vampires and perching herself on the arm of the journalist's seat.

“You still smell of him.” Armand’s lip curls and Louis looks to the tempered windows for a distraction.

“I didn’t have time to swim yet either. You’re the two avoiding him. I made no such promise, I’m not involved.”

“Wait! Please tell me she isn’t taking about-”

“Lestat.” Louis interrupts as Daniel looks to the Rusalka with a look that borders on horror. “There’s an agreement in place. When she’s here she doesn’t discuss him, when she’s there she won’t discuss us.”

“It's a horrendous deal, really.”

“HOW DOES SHE EVEN KNOW LESTAT?!”

Louis stands and stretches his arms to his companions, each of them placing a hand in one of his. “This seems like a natural breaking point, you should rest Daniel. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Louis immediately begins to escort his partners out of the room leaving the reporter in shock.

“WHAT KIND OF HORSE-SHIT DO YOU MEAN BY NATURAL BREAKING POINT?!”

---

Thank you for reading. Sorry this isn't very long :(

[aphroditeinthesea]

Percy Jackson x Fem! Athena! Reader who lives opposite him in new york, and the two end up in the same school. Originally, because they were younger, reader hated Percy because he was a boy (duh) and he annoyed her and called her names, with these things follow her to camp and such. Years later, after maturing, the pair slowly share a close connection with reader realizing through five seperate occasions that she does, possibly, like the boy next door.

The five occasions are honestly up to you! (but for example it could be when reader found Percy taking care of a younger camper who had had a nightmare, or when the pair were on the train to school and, reader running a bit behind, Percy reveals that he actually has both readers fav breakfast and the days books already packed for her.

“ i should hate you ”

percy jackson x daughter of athena!reader 🌊

y/n finds herself feeling a little too much for the most annoying son of poseidon

this is a little off from the books in an attempt to avoid too much percabeth, also this is really long but it was really fun to write. omg and hunger games reference

⚠️ language

⋆｡˚ 𓇼 𓆝⋆｡˚

nulla

When y/n first arrived at camp the first person she spotted filled her with rage. Perseus Jackson.

“No way Jose!” he called, walking over to her.

She crossed her arms. His dirty clothes and static hair told her that he had just gotten back from training, “how are you here? Of all places, why are you here?”

“Well, Tinky Winky, glad to see you, too.”

Tinky Winky. You dress up as a teletubbie one time in 2nd grade and suddenly you're Tinky Winky for the rest of your life, “I’m gonna head to my cabin. If I see you again, I might throw up on you.”

As she walked away, she heard him yell, “I’m the son of Poseidon, big three, you’ll be seeing a lot of me, babe!” She hated the way her stomach flipped at the name, what right did he have to call her babe?

I

She walked out of her cabin after a month of somehow successfully avoiding speaking to the boy, despite how close her sister was to him. She had free time, so she decided she would walk by the dock to get some fresh air.

She was sitting on the edge, looking at the water when she felt a particularly strong gust of wind. She tried to stand up, but slipped off the edge, falling into the lake. She flailed her arms, trying to maintain some buoyancy. She was never a good swimmer, which was apparent as she felt her lungs begin to fill with liquid as she tried to scream.

Suddenly, she was pulled back to the dock. She tried to catch her brush, coughing up buckets.

“Y/N, y/n, are you okay?” She blinked the water out of her eyes trying to make out the face. All she could see was dark hair and sickeningly green eyes.

“Percy?” She breathed out quietly.

He desperately nodded, “yeah, how long were you under there?”

“Maybe like,” she thought for a second, “20 seconds?”

He helped her up, holding onto her hand, although she urgently pulled it away, “can you breathe fine and everything?”

She nodded, “I’m fine, I’m just gonna go dry off.” She began walking off before stopping and turning back around towards him, “thanks, Percy.”

II

She ran through the woods during a game of capture the flag while clutching a dagger in one hand. She came to a sudden stop as she heard quiet voices. She hid behind a tree bur peeked over to try and see who it was.

There she saw Percy kneeling on the ground next to a younger camper.

“Don’t worry about them,” he mentioned, “the Ares kids are all bark no bite. I would know,” he joked, offering a kind smile.

She noticed the tears coming out of the child’s eyes, “are you sure, because they were saying how-”

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, “they talk to you like that again, you can tell me and I’ll flood their cabin.”

The kid chuckled, causing a grin to find its way to y/n’s face as she watched the scene unfold.

“Now,” Percy stood up and patted the child’s shoulder, “go get that flag.”

The younger boy nodded before running off once again.

Percy brushed off his clothes, suddenly locking eyes with the daughter of Athena, “hey, Alfalfa.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “what?”

He laughed, “your hair.”

She sighed, brushing her fingers through the top of her hair to make sure there were no floating strands, “better, wiseass?”

He smirked, reaching forward and moving a piece of hair behind her ear, “there.”

She felt blood rush to her face, “I’ve gotta go,” she muttered as she ran off. She heard a laugh from behind her, but she carried on, trying not to think of him anymore.

III

She figured the fates must hate her, after all, she was stuck on a quest with the person she hated most. Or that’s what she wanted to say at least. She hated Percy Jackson. She had known him her whole life, and all he had been ws obnoxious.

“I’m as happy with this as you are, y/n,” he interrupted her thoughts as he spoke, “but we should at least talk.”

“About what?” She coldly answered, not even looking at him.

He thought briefly, “what’s your favorite color?”

“Oh, now you’ve gone too far,” she joked.

He smiled in return, “seriously, I’ve known you forever, what is it?”

“F/c,” she answered, glancing over at him.

“See, I never would’ve known that.”

“What’s yours?”

“Blue,” he replied, “reminds me of the ocean.”

“Conceited much?”

“What? That’s not-”

“Whatever you say, fish boy.”

He shook his head, “that’s really creative, wow.” He stopped in his steps in front of a convenience store, “I’m gonna go grab a snack.”

“Percy, there’s more important things right now than your stomach.”

“Right, yeah, whatever,” he brushed her off as he walked into the store.

She groaned, “that idiot.” She nervously looked around, sure she was a demigod, but she was still a teenage girl alone in a city. She felt that those five minutes went on for ages before Percy came back out.

“Here,” he spoke as he handed her a bag.

“What’s this?” She asked, opening the bag to find a package of chips.

“You used to bring a bag of those everyday in middle school,” he added while opening his own chips.

She smiled at how he remembered, “I’m surprised you even noticed.”

“You're hard to miss.”

IV

She wanted to scream looking in the mirror. Purple. Her hair was purple. She couldn't figure out what happened, she used the same shampoo and conditioner as always. She rushed to find her shampoo bottle and open it up. As she took off the cap, she was met with the burning smell of hair dye. She cursed herself for not realizing it before.

She stepped out of the bathroom to find only Annabeth and Percy discussing something while sitting on the former’s bed. They looked at her, surprised.

“Really living up to that Tinky Winky name, huh?”

“Shut up, Jackson!”

Her sister ran to her side, “what happened?”

“I don't know, I washed my hair and- and-”

“The Stolls,” Percy commented, walking over to her.

“Oh my gods,” she mumbled, “why- why-”

“They’re morons, that’s why,” Annabeth said.

Y/N breathed heavily as she tried to stop herself from crying. After all, it was her hair, what did her hair matter? It’s not like she was Aphrodite’s daughter. But, she hated to admit how much it meant to her.

Percy bit his lip, “I’ll be right back,” he mentioned as he made his way out og the cabin.

Soon after, she heard yelling from outside. Her and her sister looked out the window to see what the ordeal was.

“-It’s temporary, it’s not like it's a big deal,” Travis Stoll was defending.

“There is a girl in there crying because of you two!” She was confused why Percy was so angered by this.

“It’s funny-”

“It’s not funny, you ass, she did nothing, why would you do some shit like that to her?”

Chiron suddenly rushed to the scene, standing between the two boys, “what is going on here?”

“Percy’s mad because we dyed his girlfriend’s hair purple.”

Oh, Oh. She was made more confused by the way her heartbeat quickened at being called his girlfriend. She didn't care, he was Percy. She didn't care. She didn't care.

V

To say she was panicked would be an understatement. Percy and Annabeth had been sent on a quest, where only Annabeth returned in tears. As far as she said, Percy wasn't dead, he was missing. They had been fighting a group of monsters, when she turned around and Percy was gone.

Y/N sat at breakfast, unable to eat. She poked at her food, but her stomach was so nauseous, she could barely look at the food. That was until she heard gasps and cheers. She turned around to find Perseus Jackson walking, looking disheveled.

She quickly stood up and ran over to the boy, wrapping him a hug. He was taken aback but enclosed his arms around her waist.

She deeply breathed, pulling away from him. Her hands held onto his face like she was trying to make sure he was real, “I thought you were fucking dead,” she cried.

“I’m pretty glad I’m not.”

She giggled, though tears still streamed down her face. She stayed looking at him, just taking in every feature of his face, every scar, every color in his eyes, and the pink of his lips. She soon enough clashed her lips with his. She didn't care that she knew all of his friends were watching, all she could care about was that he was alive. She did kinda care about the fact that he smelled like raw tuna, but she could look past that for right now.

They separated for air, but their foreheads rested against one another, letting them stare into each other’s eyes.

“You're a pretty good kisser, Tinky Winky.”

“Thanks. You could do better, Spongebob.”

He chuckled, “wanna try again?”

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter fifty four. waiting for us wc. 2k a/n. name drop!!!! ok but that being said this is a VERY heavy chapter dealing with very sensitive topics. please read through the tw and be safe. tl;dr at the end. TW!!! negligent parents, brief mention of abortion, brief mention of religion, verbal abuse, domestic abuse, violent acts, mentions of self-harm and attempted suicide also i'm not entirely sure how I should tag this, but there is a part where yn has her clothes ripped off of her without consent, but it is not in a sexual way (?) or for the purpose of doing something sexual.

You stand just outside the door of 3RACHA’s (and hyunjin’s) apartment, and your quite certain that your heart is going to pound itself straight through your chest. Perhaps there is a brief moment where you consider just running for it but you think better of it. A half empty duffel bag sits on your shoulder and there’s a ratty backpack that hangs loosely off of you. Maybe you’d find it sad that your whole life could fit into two measly bags, but you couldn’t deny that it was just easier this way. You had left nothing behind, wiping your entire existence out of that place and you would not look back.

When you finally gather the courage to knock on the door, your knuckles barely make a sound while they rap against the wood. Yet the moment your hand makes contact with the door, it’s swinging open and Felix throws himself into your embrace. You almost lose your balance but Felix makes sure you don’t fall backwards, clinging almost painfully to you.

He pulls back to ask if you’re okay since you were later than you said you’d be, but the words die on his tongue at the sight of you. There’s nothing different from you besides the bright red mark decorating your cheek.

“YN? What happened? Who hurt you?” He questions, voice going almost impossibly deeper. The thought of someone putting their hands on you fills him with anger. You actually almost don’t know what he’s talking about before remembering the parting gift your mother had given you before you left.

“Oh. This. Don’t worry about it,” You mumble, acting rather nonchalant as you attempt to get past Felix and into the apartment but he doesn’t let you get too far, grasping gently at your wrist to pull you back.

“No seriously. Who hurt you yn? What’s up with the bags?” He fires out questions, now just realizing the two bags you had with you.

“I was hoping I could stay the night. Or a few. Or forever,”

The silence between you is deafening.

“Yn” You hate (love) the way you shudder at the way he says your name in that deep tone of his.

“I might have, um, run away from home?”

“WHAT?” He yells at that effectively alerting the rest of the boys of your presence.

“Lix? Is that YN? What’s going on?” Chan’s voice filters through the apartment, getting louder the closer he gets. You finally move past Felix, leaving your bags by the door for now.

“Lixie, I’ll explain everything ok? I don’t want to have to keep repeating myself over and over again,” You beg the boy with an almost desperate lilt to your voice, giving him big puppy eyes for added ammo just in case. He sighs and let’s it go for now, letting you drag him towards the couches.

But of course, even if Felix had dropped it, the other’s wouldn’t; immediately demanding to know who hit you as soon as they see your red cheeks. As much as you appreciate their concern, the swirl of emotions you’ve been feeling for hours already has you on edge and you’re so close to snapping.

“GUYS” You raise your voice and the effect is immediate, all of them quieting down and staring back at you. “It’s ok, I promise. I barely feel it. It was the first time my mom hit me anyway,” At that they all start asking questions again, talking over each other but one glare from you shuts them up again. “Please. I’m here to explain okay? So please, let me tell you everything before you guys start asking a million questions,” You plead, tired and scared of the can of worms you were potentially about to open. But you also know how much you need this. You just couldn’t keep it in anymore.

The boys all gather onto the couch and the seats next to it, with you sat in the middle next to Felix and Jisung, one on either side of you. Both of them are close enough that you can feel their thighs pressed to yours. It helps to keep you grounded while you try to take a deep breath but it just comes out shaky. Jisung slides his hand into yours, giving it a squeeze before giving you a reassuring nod.

“I was an accident. My mom somehow managed to get pregnant even though my dad had a vasectomy after they had my brother. Despite not wanting another child, they decided to have me anyway for whatever reason. We’re not religious or anything so she could have just gotten an abortion. I’ll never know why they decided to have me.

Growing up the abuse was mostly verbal. An insult here or there, mostly reminding me I wasn’t wanted or needed. My brother of course was the worst with his words but overall it really wasn’t that bad. For the most part they ignored my existence, which was honestly fine with me. It….only got worse after I turned 16. When I got my soulmark,” Your hands are shaking in Jisung’s firm grip while Felix scoots closer for comfort, nuzzling his cheek against your shoulder. You are so thankful for them.

“Both of my parents are blanks and so is my brother. So it was only natural that I assumed that I would be a blank as well. So imagine my surprise when it turns out I have 8 soulmates,” You let out a small snort, head shaking softly.

“I’m know you’re all probably thinking that I freaked out or panicked about having so many soulmates with how I reacted when we met, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” You make brief eye contact with Jeongin who has a confused expression on his fox-like face.

“For the first time, hope bloomed in my chest. My original plan was to leave when I turned 18, as soon as I could, but I didn’t really know what I would do. I would be all alone, no soulmate and experiencing the real world for the first time. But now, I finally felt like I had a purpose. To find my soulmates. I couldn’t believe that I would have 8 soulmates. 8 people who would love me. Who would want me” your voice cracks at those last words, tears burning in your eyes. Hyunjin looks like he’s not too far behind with his own tears threatening to fall.

“Of course I had lied to my parents about my soulmark, just saying I was a blank. It was easy since they didn’t really care but I had the suspicion that my brother didn’t believe me. I used to stand in front of my mirror staring at my soulmark, tracing over your names, dreaming about what life would be like with you guys,” Felix clings a little harder to you. “It was my only solace in that prison, that one day I would be where I belonged,”

“One day my brother…he caught me looking at my mark. He-“ Your eyes close in pain as the tears run down your cheeks. You squeeze at Jisung’s hands who haven’t lefts yours yet as you take in a deep breath. “He dragged me to the living room by my hair, yelling at my parents that I was a lying whore. That I was some kind of greedy slut for having so many soulmates. He pushed me to the ground and…he- he,” You choke on your tears before you feel someone patting your cheeks dry with tissues. You look up to see Minho, his eyes soft and sad as he continues to dry the tears leaking from your eyes. The other boys that were not on the couch have abandoned their seats in favor of being closer to you. Seungmin is on the floor, stroking at your calves soothingly, while Hyunjin does the same on your other side.

“He ripped my skirt off and…he….he took a lighter and….and-“ You can’t even finish the sentence before you throw yourself in Seungmin’s embrace, sobbing into his shoulder as he holds you. The rest of the boys try to comfort you as you feel hands along your back and hair, soft soothing words being said into your ears. It takes you a few minutes to pull yourself together.

“’M sorry-“ You say with a sniffle, letting Minho clean your face as he insists on doing it himself.

“Don’t say sorry. You’ve had horrific things done to you. You are so strong,” Changbin says in a soft voice, contrasting his normally loud demeanor. His hands smooth your hair down.

You can hear the sniffles from Felix and Jisung who have starting sobbing silently, their hearts breaking for you. You let out a sigh because you’re not even done.

“After that…the abuse…got worse. It turned physical as my brother would take his anger out on me. My parents didn’t care about what he did to me. I slowly…became a shell of myself. I started turning to self harm because everything hurt so much that I needed something else to hurt so I didn’t have to think about anything else. Even though he didn’t sever our soulmark, I felt like I had let you down- that I let someone else disfigure our beautiful connection. I though about my soulmates who would probably never want someone as broken as I was. I felt so lost. So….on graduation night I-“ You tuck your head down in shame. “I swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills,”

Everyone is deadly silent but you can hear Hyunjin and Jeongin joining in on the crying. Seungmin just holds you a little tighter.

“I had texted Minghao before I went through with it. Telling him that I was so grateful for his friendship and that him and Jun were the best friends I could ever ask for. Of course that man has some freaky 8th sense or something because I don’t think it took him more than five minutes to get to my house even though he lives twenty minutes away. He was yelling at me when he barged into my bathroom but I don’t remember much after that. I passed out and woke up in the hospital. Now that I was conscious Minghao throughly chewed my ass out though. The nurses had wanted to hospitalize me actually for mental health reasons but my parents refused and said something about how it was just an accident,”

“We thought you died,” Jeongin pipes up, his eyes red rimmed with tears as he sniffles.

“Your mark went gray and we all felt this sharp pain in our chests. That night we had mourned the loss of a soulmate that we thought we’d never get to meet. The relief we felt when your mark went back to black was unmatched. We had assumed you must have had an accident or something to have triggered the mark to react,”

The rest are eerily quiet, still waiting for you to continue your story.

“After I was discharged, my father had someone managed to score himself a promotion. Something about using a sob story about how his daughter was feeling lost being in a small town and needing to explore or some other bullshit. Either way we were suddenly packing and moving to seoul, not that my opinion mattered if I wanted to go or not.

My grades in school were actually pretty good. I really didn’t have anything better to do then study so It was surprisingly easy to get into seoul uni. And well….then I met Jeongin in Biology. Slowly the rest of you followed and wormed your way into my heart,” you smile fondly at the boys around you who smile back, even with tears stained cheeks.

“I really don’t care about the thread Yunjin posted, but my brother saw it and was not happy. He informed our parents and they let me have it. I just sat there taking it when I realized that I didn’t have to put up with this shit anymore. So I kinda just got up, grabbed my stuff and left…Figured you guys wouldn’t mind if I stayed,”

“Never ever. You do realize that now that you’re here we are never letting you go. Ever again,” Changbin whispers, squeezing you a little tighter. The boys are practically cutting off your oxygen but you can hardly care, feeling the love pouring out of them. You love them. You never want to be without them ever again.

“You have been so brave, so strong. We are so proud of you. Thank you. Thank you for waiting for us,”

tl;dr ! yn's parents find out about her soulmates via her brother who found out from the thread. while they chew her out, she realizes that she doesn't has to put up with this anymore and "runs" away (but not without her mother slapping her). she goes over to their apartment to tell them her story. yn was an "accident" and even though her parents didn't want another child, they went ahead with the birth anyway. they, along with her brother never let her forget that she was unwanted. both her parents and her brother are blanks and so she had assumed she would be too - but surprise, surpise. she has 8 soulmates. yn adored her mark and was excited for the day she would get to be with them. she'd spend time staring at her mark, memorizing their names. one day her brother catches her and gets so angry that he takes a lighter and burns her mark. after that yn falls into a deep depression and turns to self-harm in order to cope. still unable to take it and feeling like she let her soulmates down, she decides to take a bunch of sleeping pills. minghao is the one who finds her and saves her. the boys mention that they thought that she had died due to the mark reacting and turning grey. they were very happy when the mark went back to black. after her attempt, her father was able to get a promotion at work and moved their family to seoul, resulting in yn finally finding her soulmates.

previous | masterlist | next

[nyoomfruits]

i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you (carlos/oscar, 1k, t rated)

wrote this in a 20 min sprint with my tsgc gc besties <3 prompt was 'royalty au + "why are you covered in blood?" "long story"' so i wrote a carcar fantasy au heavily inspired by the book 'so this is ever after' by f.t. lukens and the dungeons and dragons movie :)

Oscar really only just manages to stagger himself outside before he collapses on the stone steps of the castle, feeling all the fight drain out of him. Behind him, the castle burns, and he should probably put that out, should probably try to find the other, but right now he’s just exhausted.

Three years of chasing prophecy all led to this. He needs a moment to breathe.

Which is of course, annoyingly, when Carlos shows up.

“Cabron,” he says, coming to halt in front of Oscar, smoothly dismounting his horse. There’s not a single spatter of blood on his clothes, not a hair out of place. His armor gleams in the soft warm light of the setting sun. Oscar hates him so much. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Long story,” Oscar sighs, letting his head fall back against the stone railing of the stairs. Papaya, the little baby dragon they’d befriended on their journey, chooses that exact moment to trip through the large castle doors, skittering over the worn grey stones towards Oscar, chirping loudly.

“Hm,” Oscar says, scritches Papaya under his chin. “Well, tell him I’m okay, yeah. And to enjoy his moment. He did it and all,” he tries not to sound too wistful when he says it, as he watches Papaya skitter back into the castle. He’s just has a hard time accepting it’s all over now. Done. They can all go their separate ways.

Lando will probably have to do whatever The Chosen One has to do after they’ve defeated The Evil Wizard, George will go back to doing his whole Lord thing in the Kingdom of Mercedes, Alex and Logan will probably find a nice little inn to run somewhere. Charles will inevitably make some rich Lord fall for him and then never have to worry about money ever again, and Oscar.

Oscar will be alone. Like he was before.

“So he did it, then,” Carlos says, startling the shit out of Oscar, who had fully forgotten he was there. “Killed The Evil Wizard?”

“Yup,” Oscar says, pulling himself back up into standing with a loud groan. “You’ve got perfect timing, as always. Showing up when all the hard work is already done.”

Carlos ignores him. “And everyone is okay? Lando?”

“Everyone is fine, according to Papaya. Lando’s panicking a little bit but honestly I wouldn’t have suspected otherwise. Logan broke his leg, but Alex is already trying to heal him, so. All good,” Oscar sways on his legs a little, tries to hold on to the railing. Fuck. Maybe sitting down was a bad idea.

Carlos eyes him. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” Oscar grits out. He tries to take a step, and wavers. God, he’s so exhausted. His bones feel like mush. He’s not magic, like the others. He’s just Oscar, and he’s just spend hours fighting an unnecessarily large amount of The Evil Wizard’s minions.

He sways again, and suddenly Carlos is there, hand on his elbow, holding him upright. “You are hurt,” Carlos says, frowns.

“I’m fucking fine, Carlos, let me go,” he grits. God, he wishes they’d never bumped into Carlos back in the first year of their journey, in the Enchanted Woods. Fucking self-righteous magic ass knight always showing up when Oscar’s at his worst.

Carlos, as always, completely ignores Oscar’s request. “Let me get you back inside.”

“No, I’m, no,” Oscar protests, as Carlos starts leading him back up the stairs, struggling a little. “Carlos, let me go.”

Carlos doesn’t let him go, but he stops walking, looks at him for a really long time. “You were never planning on going back inside,” he says, eventually.

Oscar looks back down the stairs, at a moss stain a few steps down, stubbornly refuses to look at Carlos. “Fuck off,” he says, eloquently.

“Your friends,” Carlos says. “They would miss you.”

“Right, sure,” Oscar says, finally turns back to look at him. “Would they, though? Lando’s probably like, King now. George is already a Lord, Charles will probably marry one, and Alex and Logan have each other. What do I have?”

“Me,” Carlos says, and Oscar snorts.

“Oh, yeah, great. Fucking consolation price, that. No thank you,” he goes to yank his arm away again, walk back down the stairs, but Carlos holds on.

“And Lando,” Carlos continues. “And all your other friends. They care about you. I care about you. If you are not going back inside, at least come with me. I could use someone like you, on my journeys.”

“Yeah, really not making me feel better here,” Oscar spits. “Just. It’s fine, okay. I know Lando only took me along because I was the only one in our village to read maps. I know they see me as a burden. So it’s like, fine. It’s whatever. I can just slip out now and they’ll never have to see me again and it doesn’t have to be this whole big deal.”

Carlos makes a frustrated noise, and suddenly he lunges forward and kisses Oscar full on the mouth.

Oscar is still very much exhausted and very much covered in blood and very much confused, and so he doesn’t even consider kissing back until Carlos is already pulling away. He’s glaring at Oscar, something that’s somehow both slightly undermined and slightly made creepier by the fact that there’s now a smear of blood on his perfectly moisturized cheek.

“Do not ever say again people see you as a burden,” Carlos tells him, so firmly and adamantly, that Oscar can only look at him a little wide eyed and say, “Okay.”

“Good,” Carlos says, and then his frown drops, and he gingerly reaches out with the hand not still holding Oscar steady and carefully wiping a strand of hair away from Oscar’s blood stained forehead. “Now, let’s get you inside and clean you up, yeah? And then we can see how bad those injuries are.”

And Oscar. God, Oscar is so tired. And he hates Carlos so much. But Carlos is also looking at him so softly, so tenderly. And maybe he has never really hated Carlos at all. Maybe it’s always been something else. Something else that’s making his gut swirl and his throat feel tight. His lips are still tingling, and he only just manages to refrain himself from reaching up to touch them.

But then Carlos leans down and picks him up bridal style and Oscar thinks okay, yeah, no, never mind. He really does fucking hate Carlos fucking Sainz.

Or maybe, he thinks, as Carlos carries him back into the castle – that is thankfully no longer on fire -  back to their friends, back to their unsure future, as the sun finally fully sets behind them. Maybe it’s a mixture of both.

Either way, he can’t wait to find out. After a bath. And dinner. And possibly a million hours of sleep.

[handsomeamoeba]

WRONG.

Try again.

Actually let's get into this. As someone who loves a great many fantasy RPGs including BG3, Skyrim, and Dragon Age, let me explain what BG3 gets that Skyrim misses, in my opinion.

And this is the big one: the characters in BG3 feel like real fucking people. They have backstories, demonstrable feelings about the events and the other characters, they react to the things you do and they develop as people as you further your relationships. Even minor NPCs often feel fleshed out with distinct personalities and opinions. Hell, going out of my way to cast Speak to Animals is usually rewarded with at least one charming remark. I have never given even a little bit of a shit about 99% of Bethesda NPCs. I usually choose to travel without a companion rather than with unless I need a pack mule to carry my stuff, because their primary function seems to be to get in my way, set off traps, or attract aggro. I can't remember most characters' names unless I'm actively playing. I'm more likely to casually murder people in Skyrim than I am in BG3 or DA because Bethesda hasn't really made any of their NPCs feel like real people, and consequentially I feel no guilt. By comparison I tried to do an evil run of DA:O and gave up the instant I had to kill Wynne (the grandmotherly spirit healer) when she refused to let me go through with my plans, because I hated doing it. Lydia will watch me gut an innocent man and do NOTHING because she has no life, existence, or personality outside of me, the player. This extends to romances, obviously. While optional in all the games, most people will pursue a romance path in BG3 or DA for the additional character arcs it brings to the characters, the emotional nuances they unlock. In Skyrim romance is a box you tick of tasks to complete. In fact, once you marry them, most marriage candidates personalities change *completely* because all spouses have the same few stock dialog lines. That is, if they had a personality to begin with (again, see Lydia). You know how everyone wants to romance unromanceable characters in Bethesda games? Like Brynjolf in Skyrim, or Nick Valentine in FO4? It's because Bethesda actually bothered to give them stories and opinions.

Honestly, this extends to the player character themselves. To a certain extent every player character is a blank slate, but in BG3 and DA it at least feels possible to develop a feeling about who that character is and what they would or would not say or do. I've tried to do that with the Dragonborn and rarely feel strong feelings about them or have strong opinions about what kind of person they are. The only one I've made who I have much of an idea about is my wood elf Parafina, who is Chaotic Evil. Which again is an option I only pick because no one in Skyrim feels real.

The stakes also feel more real in BG3, more personal. Obviously there's the central quest involving the tadpoles, but more than that, it is about a credible threat to your world and the people and communities in it and the people you love. There are tons of reasons to invest yourself emotionally in the narrative. I have never, ever completed the main storyline in Skyrim nor picked a side in Skyrim's civil war. Why would it? Basically nothing happens if I choose not to. Furthermore, if you're not playing as a Nord (which I usually don't), why would you care about Skyrim as a place? You are a faceless, voiceless (pun intended) outsider who gets microaggressed at every turn being asked to choose between two different flavors of fascist. Also dragons are back but like... listen, I don't care? They get pretty easy to pick off at a certain point, it's like swatting flies, they're just a nuisance on the way to my daily errands. And isn't that such a common story? Don't you know so many people who don't really bother with the main storylines of Skyrim? Yeah it's one of the bestselling games of all time but I feel like the fact that most people don't really care about its narrative should be a sign of failure. We all know it's mostly maintained its popularity due to the modding community.

Ultimately both games have rich worlds which reward exploration with little secrets and environmental storytelling. But BG3 feels more "meaningful" because they give me reasons to care about what happens. The writers worked hard to give the game emotional resonance. So I come to the two games for different experiences. I go to BG3 to engage with an interesting story. I go to Skyrim for the quick serotonin hit of completing tasks and hoarding items.

[holylulusworld]

Gun for hire (3)

Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, sunshine reader,

Gun for hire (2)

Gun for hire masterlist

You look out of the window, watching the city you know so well fade in the background. Lloyd guides the car out of town, and you fear, you missed your chance to run.

“Where are you taking me? Will you let me disappear somewhere out in the woods?”

He snorts. “Sunshine, if I wanted you dead, you’d lie six feet under in your garden, next to the loser your fine boyfriend sent to kill you.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you pout. “After all he’s done, he’s my ex-boyfriend. Tommie is responsible for the poor man’s death. And now, you are going to kill me too.”

“Yeah, because you’re my assignment, not that douche’s, nor your boyfriend’s,” Lloyd slams his hands onto the steering wheel, almost losing control over the car as he looked at you for a split-second.

“So…you keep me around because you want to kill me?” You press on. It’s your life, and you want to know for how much longer you will breathe. “Why? This doesn’t make sense.”

“Rule number one, never question me, or my decisions,” Lloyd dips his head to glare at you. “Got it, sunshine?”

“Fine,” you wrinkle your nose and kick the headboard.

“No pouting or damaging my car,” he slaps his hand onto your thigh, squeezing hard. A warning to not mess with him. “You should be thankful I didn’t bury you next to that bastard.”

“What will you do now? Will you kill Tommie for not paying you?” You just can’t stop your mouth from running. You’re in a car with a man who makes money by killing people and you try to fall into an easy conversation with him. 

“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll kill you first,” he grins like the devil while glancing at you. “Aw, you lost your pretty smile, sunshine. I wonder why…”

Before you can stop yourself, you stick your tongue out. “You’re not nice.”

“I never said that I’m a nice guy, sweet cheeks,” Lloyd snaps at you. “Only because you love to hug people all the time, wear dresses looking like a three-year-old chose them and braid flowers in your hair doesn’t mean the rest of the world must be sugar-sweet too.”

“I-“ you purse your lips and inhale sharply. “You’re making it hard to like you, Lloyd. Why do you always make fun of other people? I’m nice because it is nice to be nice.”

“Christ, I got my middle school teacher in my car trying to teach me how to smile and be nice to girls,” he curls his upper lip, making his mustache look ever more ridiculous. “It’s nice to be nice.” He mimics your voice.

“You’re not nice.”

“You are annoying.”

“I hate your mustache, it looks awful. If not, you’d be an attractive man,” you snap at Lloyd, hating yourself for being mean. You cross your arms over your chest and look out of the window.

Lloyd presses his lips into a thin line. He huffs and tries to not let your words get to him. Lloyd wishes he could run his fingers over his mustache, but he must focus on driving the car to not end up dead.

He takes his time, recalling your words in his mind. Lloyd smirks and dips his head to glance at you. “So, you think I’m attractive?” 

Lloyd guides the car toward a secluded path. You press your nose against the window to get a better look at the house coming into sight.

No. This is not a house. You are living in a house. This is a mansion, surrounded by a huge fence. He slows the car down and presses a button on his phone to open the automatic driveway gate.

“Wow! Are you an Earl or something?” You gape when the house gets in sight. “I’ve never seen this kind of house outside of a magazine.”

“It’s a house,” he grunts. “You’re not here for sightseeing and to get comfortable. As soon as I talk to your ex-boyfriend, I’ll decide on…” He shrugs. “You know what happens then…”

You look away and press your lips into a thin line. If he wants to act like a meanie, you’ll not talk to him. The bullies in school gave up too when you ignored them.

All they wanted was attention, just like the man next to you.

“I said no pouting in my car,” he flashes you a smirk. Lloyd is more than happy that he was able to ruin your mood. “We are almost there, sunshine.”

He drives through the gate, a smug grin on his face while you angrily pursed your lips. That man made you angry, and you hate being angry. 

“You know, with that pout, you look kinda cute when mad,” he laughs when you make a face. “Ah, I will extinguish that sunshine in your eyes. I’ll be all too happy to make you even madder.”

Lloyd looks at the monitors while barking orders at the team he sent to get your ex-boyfriend. “Do we have sightings of the target yet?” 

“Target sighted,” one of his men answers. “He’s waiting at the agreed meeting point. What are our orders?”

“Get him. I want him alive,” Lloyd orders his men around. “That piece of shit believed he can fuck with Lloyd Hansen. He will get what he deserves. Let’s play a game.”

He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes glued to the monitors he smiles to himself. “Who gets me this man first will get a raise and one week off.”

His men storm toward your ex-boyfriend, barking orders at him. Tommie wets himself and falls to his knees. He knew it was a mistake to hire Lloyd Hansen, but he desperately wanted to give his new girlfriend all she ever dreamed of.

“Perfect ending,” Lloyd smirks in your direction when his men handcuff your ex-boyfriend. “What do you say, sunshine? Do we want to celebrate the successful hunt?”

You still refuse to talk to him. His comments and behavior made you mad, and you are angry at yourself for letting Lloyd Hansen get to you.

“Aw, come on. Give me a little smile,” he dips his head to look at you. “If you play your cards right, I let you watch me rough him up.”

You curl your lip. This man is the worst, and you can’t find it in you to be nice to him. Not after he shot someone in your kitchen and kidnapped you.

“No,” you huff and look away. “I don’t want to watch you hurt someone. I had to watch you kill that man in my kitchen. That’s enough violence for one day.”

Lloyd gets up from his chair to stalk toward you. He cups your face and smirks. 

“Sunshine, there is never enough violence when it comes to a piece of shit like your boyfriend…”

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[kyumisyumi]

Something something something eldritch Nikto something something something

I've sifted through so many ideas for this because I didn't wanna just pick a random eldritch creature from my box of horrors and slap Nikto's name on it. But also I don't feel like I have enough info about him(ironic, considering I write about him so much) to craft him into a creature. I watched some documentaries on eldritch horrors, dived into Russian cryptids and still drew blanks but here's what I managed

Rating: E for everyone who loves Nikto

Eldritch!Nikto x F!Reader

Word count: 1

Part 2

~Taking requests~

You weren't running from the consequences of your actions, more like briskly walking in the opposite directions. Looking forward all the way because backwards held the sounds of large dogs and angry men. Their boots cracking every twig and foliage along the way, voices interrupting the once peaceful ambiance of the woods. You could hardly tell whether the growling was from the hounds or the men. And really, who wouldn't want to run away from such a thing? Not run; walk. Quickly, very quickly. You were being smart, not cowardly.

No, never that.

You weren't cowardly when you snuck into that guardsman's post. You weren't cowardly when you tried to steal the gold he confiscated from the Miller's wife, the only woman that kept you fed while the streets were your home. You weren't cowardly when you defended yourself once he caught you. And you weren't cowardly when you accidentally bashed his head in with a clay pot. He should've worn a helmet, really. A guard should always have their helmet on! What was he thinking? Now look at you, running for your life and deluding yourself as if it would change the actions of the past.

Running.

You ran your mouth, ran your mind, but no matter how fast you moved, you couldn't outrun hunting dogs. Your fault, really, for trying to do so while wearing the long, ugly skirt you stole from someone's unattended clothesline. You should've maybe stolen the guard's old pants, you knew he had some because he mentioned wanting to give them to his nephew who was in combat training. Instead you dashed out the home the moment you realized he wasn't breathing, panicked by your first time taking a life. What were you thinking?

"I wasn't-" you spat a thick glob of blood out your mouth, it's red color staining the putrid black floor. Tears staining your vision and pain plaguing your mind. "I didn't mean to." You said it over and over again but it was little defense against men who'd lost a comrade because of you. A good man. A good man who stole from widows and bullied the elderly? It's weird how two people can look at the same person but see someone different. But that train of thought was halted by a kick to your stomach. And when one of the men took the final hit, the force of it sending you against the edge of the pit, you finally felt that feeling in your stomach. The one you hid away behind conversations with yourself. Locked away behind a naive expectation that things will either go your way or go away. Your first taste of true regret. Because you got a glimpse of where that attitude has lead you. That attitude that kept you going when your parents had left you. That attitude that kept you alive when your survival was in your own hands at an age where other children were being coddled and sung to. That attitude that protected you in the harsh village slum, now had you staring down into hell. 'The pit'; a giant hole defacing mother earth's perfect form. It's surface covered in black ichor, you couldn't tell whether the walls were moving or you'd been hit so hard your vision was thoroughly fucked. This was considered a punishment worse than death. Jokesters and troublemakers got a stern talking to. Thieves and crooks got jail time. Murders and adulterers got death. But the truly damned got the pit. The punishment didn't match the crime but judging by the hate filled glares of the men surrounding you, they didn't much care.

Or maybe they did care, they cared about you as much as you did yourself, these days.

That was a more comforting thought, maybe? Maybe not. Either way, thinking about it felt a whole lot better than thinking of the weightlessness you felt as you fell. Your vision quickly losing the greens and yellows of a gentle forest to being plunged into darkness. A darkness beyond description. One that surpassed what's seen when you close your eyes for the night. That surpassed the unconsciousness of sleep when dreams escaped you. A darkness that felt like death yet was somehow alive.

The walls were moving, they shifted uncomfortably as they felt the presence of another. Voices that whispered of uncertainty and conflict. Voices that yelled intruder and ones that yelled fodder. But one voice just hummed in curiosity at seeing the source of blood and spit and tears it tasted. He had consumed many of your kind but what little it had of you ignited interest rather than hunger. So it did not eat. Didn't wrap you in its tendrils and rip you apart into easily digestible pieces to be absorbed by its mass. The tendrils held you, confused by their many intentions and wants, before simply bringing you lower into the pit. To the very bottom that no other creature has ever seen. No other creature would ever be allowed near. Far too close to it's more vulnerable organs. But you wouldn't hurt it, would you? Wouldn't hurt them. Not with those blunt nails and teeth, not with those little limbs and severed ties to the natural order. You were weaker than it's weakest points yet you fought against his tendrils like you believed you could win. Struggled and resisted as if you had a fighting chance. 'Hush, little human.' It thought as it strangled you, only enough to render you unconscious. Give it enough time to build a prison home inside itself for you. Then build a form for himself more perceptible to your primitive eyes, he'd tried once before but the human face was so hard to mimic. There was so much anger inside you, more for yourself than for him. And Nikto couldn't understand it. There is only one 'you' inside that tiny, fleshy form. How can one be angry at their own/only self? That would be one of the first things he asked. He felt there was nothing a creature like you could teach him yet he had so much he wanted to ask regardless. Maybe once he had his answers he could finally consume you in peace. Maybe then the voices that called for him to spare you will quiet down. And the ones that screamed for him to bond with you will stop. Your body couldn't handle the things he desires... Could it?

Regardless, he has time. All the time in the world and beyond.

Silly human, getting yourself thrown down here, what were you thinking?

All in all, I didn't want to forget the eldritch and just make a monster.

[lunajay33]

Change Part.2

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It had been a week since Daryl and I’s first time hanging out and things have been nice, if that’s the word that could describe complete peace and acceptance around him, he’s the first person to ever see me for me and treat me normally, like o wasn’t a burden or a weirdo quiet loner

At school we’d help each other throughout class, well mostly me helping him when he didn’t know the answer to a question on our daily biology work book, and he started to sit with me on the bench behind the school bordering the towns woods, same as today

“So what do you have for lunch?” I asked as I sat cross cross facing him

“Just a sandwich, sucks” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Here you can have my chips” I said handing him my little bag of sour cream and onions chips

“Nah it’s yers” he said waving his hand

“You’re having them” I said placing them down next to him so he couldn’t refuse

“I’m not that hungry anyways so it’s fine” I said as I took another bite out of my green apple, I don’t know why but I’ve just lost my appetite lately, maybe it was the stress at work plus home life plus school stacked on top of each other but I tried not to think about it too much

“Ya sure? Ya should eat more” he said squinting at me

“I’ll be fine I’ll just eat when I get home maybe…..maybe if you’re not doing anything would you like to come over?” I asked hesitantly, we haven’t hung out, outside of school since Sunday and now it was Friday and I was just crawling to be alone with him again

“Sure, I ain’t got nothing going on” he said as he ripped open the chips but I swear I saw a faint smile

The bell rang signalling the end of the day, I went to my locker, pulled on my coat and stuff my textbooks into my bag for the homework I had to do over the weekend, I closed my locker jumping when I saw Daryl already there with a smirk

“Jerk you scared me” I said laughing as we started heading for the exit, the gust of fall air felt amazing, fall was always my favorite the leave turning to burnt orange and falling to the ground, the wind with the aroma of wet leaves it was comforting

We got some weird stares from people like the snotty preppy girls but when I looked at the football team all huddled by the car lot by heart dropped, Jackson looked at me with so much hatred and I knew it was because he hated the dixons, I wasn’t embarrassed of Daryl, he’s my friend I was just scared of what Jackson would do

We continued walking towards my house, it was silent most of the way

“So….how much more money do ya gotta save for ballet lessons” he asked his hands stuffed in his baggy cargo pants

“Well the lessons are a hundred dollars a month so for a year it would be twelve hundred a year so I’m really far off, I only get paid 9 dollars an hour at the dinner and i don’t get that many shifts so it’s starting to become just a dream plus I’m probably too old now” I said upset knowing now that doing the math I’d probably never get to be that ballerina I always craved to be, to dance in those pink slippers and tights, to feel the music move me

“I can help ya, I got some extra money” he said with these hopefully eyes I’ve never really seen on him before and it made my heart thump

“Are Daryl I can’t have you do that, it’s your money you worked hard for, it’s okay I’ll just watch Swan lake over and over again” I said laughing pathetically trying to make this situation not as awkward and sad, but wasn’t that just me? Awkward and sad

“But it’s yer dream”

“Ya it’s just a dream but it’s fine Daryl, I’m sure I can find something else to make me happy” I said smiling at him as we finally made it to my house, we went straight to my room dropping our bags and stripping our jackets to flop down on the bed and just look at the ceiling

“Show me this swan lake yer always talkin ‘bout” he said as he laid his arm behind his head looking at me with a smile that warmed my heart, if this is what having friends was like I’m glad I finally had one

“Okay!” I said as I jumped up and put in the vhs into my dingy old tv hearing the tape wind up and appear on screen all grainy but beautiful, I sat back down next to Daryl as we watch the whole dance I knew every move, every turn of music notes it was amazing

The black swan was devastatingly beautiful, and the song change when she appears hits me deep inside and my skin shivers with amazement every after the numerous amount of times I’ve watched this, then it was over and the tape cut off

“So how did you like it?” I asked excited for his impression

“I ain’t one fer this kinda thang but it was…….cool”

“It’s kinda like us, I’m the white swan that everyone runs over and you’re the strong black swan, sad and beautiful” his face turned red as he cleared his throat and looked away

“Nah stop that” it was cute making him embarrased in a sweet way

“Well it’s true maybe you could learn it and dance with me” I said 100% joking knowing that would never happen but would be funny to see

“I ain’t gonna do that, but…..I’ll watch ya dance” he said looking back at me the pink tint still lingering on his cheeks

“I just need slippers first” I said laying back down next to him

We must have fell asleep because we were abruptly woken up to my door slamming open and Jackson and his one jerk friend coming in, we shot up in bed and I instantly felt scared

“Jackson what are you doing?”

“Really a Dixon, I knew you were a slut” he said as his friend laughed

“What no he’s my friend, just leave”

“If you’re gonna sleep with whoever what about my friend here” his friend came up to me grabbing my arm and trying to drag me off the bed but I held on tight to the sheets

“Leave me alone, let go” I said panicking, I felt his grip let go and when I looked Daryl had him on the ground punching his face in, Jackson grabbed him and threw him back

“Get the hell outta here, ya ever touch her again and yer dead, I swear I’ll kill ya” Daryl groaned as they both left shutting the door

Daryl led me back to sitting on the bed, his touch was comforting and warm compared to the harsh cold grip I was just in

“Are ya okay?” He asked making me look at him as he wiped my tears away

“I think I’m gonna be sick” I whined the anxiety so high I didn’t know what to do

“Shhhh yer safe now just breath”

He helped me relax but that thought of not being safe alone scared me, what if Daryl wasn’t here? What would’ve happened?

“Daryl….will you stay with me tonight?”

“I don’t know ya sure ya want me here”

“Please I’m scared to be alone with them here”

“If that’s what ya want” he said getting up and taking some blankets from my closet setting up a makeshift bed on the floor right next to my bed, the adrenaline crush was hitting me hard and I was exhausted, I laid down facing him, seeing him sprawled out just as tired as me

The moonlight from the window was bathing Daryl in a silver hue, he looked almost ethereal and I felt my heart thump again, I’m glad I met Daryl and that we were paired in class, he feels safe, he feels like……like my hope

“Goodnight Daryl”

“Goodnight ballerina” he said huffing a little laugh but my heart filled with joy hearing that, this was my first sleepover ever and it wasn’t how I thought I would start but I’m glad he’s here non the less

Part.3!

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

I make four Milf Models on the list (and a Fifth on in Shiranui) and then I go and find Six more 'Mature' Gems! Dammit...

Anyways let me introduce the Six new candidates.

1.) Cattleya (Queen's Blade)

Not gonna like, I know noithing besides that she has huge tits, glasses and is a blacksmith with hella muscle... That is more then enough! I would make her son and Jaune friends, and Cattleya is the only woman the Arc trust to forge their weapons and upkeep them. Her son Rana is one of the only people Jaune trust around his sisters.

2.) Kie Kamado (Demon Slayer)

So truth be told, I have not watched Demon Slayer... And this woman and her four dead kids are why! Like THE FUQ!? Jesus man this crap broke my heart, I... I just moved right along to happy anime cuz that shit makes me sad as fuck... So yeah they would live in Ansel, and she would be Juniper's best friend and one of the very few women he can understand the sheer difficulties of raising a small team of children. But worst, because she has to do it alone... Then Grimm attack, and while everyone else is trying to protect their own. Little Jaune rushes to help his best friend Tanjiro and his siblings! Auraless and with only his families sword in hand that he can barely wield the two boys actually manage to kill a Beowulf and proceed to get them to the safety of the Arc House.

3.) Shizu Shinazugawa (Demon Slayer)

DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!!! Seriously this woman somehow had a worst death then Kie! SHE ATE HER KIDS!!! WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL!!! OH! AND LETS NOT FORGET THAT SHE WAS GETTEN BEATEN BY HER HUSBAND!!! God Dammit, at this point I'm starting to think it's a good thing pig boy was raised by boars. If his mom had been with him instead of abandoning him in thew woods (I assume) she'd probably be dead too! Much less lightening whiney bitch I swear don't give him a tragic backstory too! I do not want to like him... As for shizu, Imma play the Cardin card, and say the two older brothers are bullies in Ansel. Lashing out at others because of their abusive father and of course Jaune is a very ripe target, the envy of the pair because of his kind strong father. Jaune is mad, but after talking to his sisters he decides to invite the boys over to dinner, and try to be friends, after all like his mom says, friends are just strangers you haven't met yet. And besides... Their like him and Tanjiro, he heard they have a lot of siblings too. They should make a club together! It is as little Jaune is having these thoughts that he stumbles upon it... then father beating them, them and their poor mom! And much like with the Ursa Jaune rushes in. And gets beaten within a inch of his life, but doesn't stop, grabbing forks, spoons anything he can get his hands on... Telling them to run, to get his dad. Papa Arc does come forward and what he finds is his son, bloody, beaten barely able to stand, but standing he is, and protecting the poor lady with a broken leg from her evil husband... And then the man is gone, his head taken, the Arc Patriarch not hesitating for even a second.

4.) Ruka Rengoku (Demon Slayer)

'It is the obligation of those born strong to defend the weak. Don't ever forget that..'

That Fucking Line! That Fucking Line Right There Makes Her Hotter Then The Other Two! Oh and what do you know, another piece of shit husband!

Okay, so I get he only turned piece of shit cuz she died bu-NO! You Know what, Fuck that Your Son Died Cuz You Couldn't Step Up And Live Up To Your Wives Words! Fuck You!!! That Drunk Bastard Insulted her memory and made her have to suffer meeting her son FAR TOO EARLY!!!

There is no way this woman doesn't hate her husband from beyond the grave! So here what would happen, Shinjuro would snap earlier then like when his wife is first diagnosed with the disease. At first he tries to stay strong but then begins to drink, then gets pissed when told nothing can be done!

And then in his denial he tries to force them to leave to Atlas, to hopefully find a cure or way to treat her... But Ruka refuses, Ansel needs them, negativity has been on the rise and Grimm have shown up more often. So he begins to drink and rant, and rave and Ruka watches her husband betray both himself and her faith in him.

And then he leaves, taking her with him one night, in desperation kidnapping his own wife against her will, her body far too weak to resist to take her to Atlas forcibly if needed. He uses a favor Papa and Mama Arc owe him to watch his kids while he's gone (Lying and saying he convinced Ruka)

And it is as he was gone that Ansel was attacked, his sons forced to fight, children like them, Jaune, little Tanjiro and the Shinazugawa brothers barely managing to take his place, but not without injury.

When he returns, he isn't met with scorn, nor blame... Not from anyone, except his wife! Ruka will not forgive him, and would rather die alone then married to him... He leaves, bitter angry but knowing she was right. And it was as this was happening that her son brings Jaune to her, the boy noticing several cuts and bruises she'd received from her forceful travels... He reaches out, and uses the power he discovered while the held off the Grimm.

The power that let mere kids like them fight and barely make up the difference her Ex-Husbands absence... His Semblance, Aura Amplification, every doctor had told her her disease wasn't treatable because her body simply lacked the strength to fight it, her immune system was too too compromised and her body too fragile by that point to maintain.

But Jaune's power, it's strength was one of a nature to empower others, to share with them his strength, his vigor, his will and soul, and Jaune wouldn't stop sharing his strength until it was enough to save her!

It was the logic of a simply youth, if he could kill monsters as big as Grimm, he refused to let small ones so tiny and weak take one of his friends moms! The same woman who told him he could be a huntsman! No! That said it was his duty to be one! Well What Kinda Huntsman Couldn't Save a mother!

5.) Rinko Iori (Gundam... Apparently -///-)

I...I did not know she was from a anime... I firmly thought she was a hentai mom... But no, apparently she is from Gundam. Well, I think I've said enough and these pictures hopefully speak for themselves...

I'd say she is a Argus mom, and helped Saphron and Terra navigate raising their first kid.

6.) Mirelia Q Melromarc

She Is A Queen! (Literally!) but no... Like seriously she is best girl, she showed up and everything, oh everything just turned pure euphoria for me. And God Damn She hated her husband! I wish they went more in on how thoroughly pissed she was in the anime like they did in the light novel.

Seriously a fucked up daughter and husband... just... Fuck man, and seriously FUCK BITCH For What She did! (If you read the Web Novel you know what I'm talking about) And fuck Trash too! Y'know it was so he could have a redemption Arc.

Fuck that, as far as I'm concerned those two need death like I need air. Naofumi is her (Only) daughter's fiancée. Which means she's in need of a new consort, a noble, strong, kind one who has a sharp wit.

[porphyriosao3]

Day 15 - Craft

Bilbo was aware - had been aware - that there were all sorts of conversations going on in the mountain to which he in particular was not privy. Periodically someone would go to speak to (i.e., shout at) Thorin where he wandered amongst the piles of gold, for example. Often the hobbit came around corners to find a small huddle of dwarves muttering together, and they always stopped and stared as he went by. It had only gotten worse since Thorin had given him this ridiculous armor.

One night, things seemed to come to a head. He approached the main dining area to overhear "... well, with all due respect Lord Balin, this has gotten ridiculous." Coming from, of all dwarves, Dori! Bilbo hated to eavesdrop but found himself melting into the shadows nearby all the same. "Even in the Blue Mountains, for things to have gone this far without..."

"Yes, Dori, I know, I know," Balin groaned. "I don't think anyone foresaw the shirt." There was a pause, as though Balin were thinking. "You know a dwarf his whole lifetime, and still he can surprise you."

"The point remains," Dori continued in a just-so tone of voice, "we know none of the information necessary for the next steps. Also," he paused, 'there's the matter of the Mastery." None of this left Bilbo any the wiser, but Balin's response was lost to the ages as Nori's hand landed on the hobbit's shoulder from a patch of darker shadow that Bilbo would have sworn couldn't contain a dwarf.

"Well, hello, Bilbo," he said loudly, practically dragging him into the room and leaving the other two staring in surprise. "We wondered where you'd got to. Dangerous place, shouldn't wander too far in here." His cocked eyebrow brought a flush to Bilbo's face. Bad enough to eavesdrop but even worse to be caught!

"Yes indeed," Balin said with a smile as false as a cat's promise. Dori sat nearby as focused on Bilbo as though he were the only thing in the room. Odd. "Bilbo... I just realized we know hardly anything about your life in the Shire! We saw your lovely home, of course," making all of Bilbo's social sensors turn to point due trouble, "but tell me, what did you do for a living?"

"I beg your pardon," Bilbo said by habit before remembering where he was. Perhaps that wasn't quite as rude a question among dwarves. He reminded himself forcefully that he wasn't in the Shire at the moment. As though the bare cold stone walls and floors didn't give that away! "As a rule, gentlehobbits don't talk about such things, I must say," he continued, provoking a wince from Dori and Balin both.

"Understood, my apologies if I was inappropriate," Balin faux-chuckled. Really, Bilbo thought, he might try a little harder. Even a faunt wouldn't be fooled! "What I mean is... do you make things? What was your craft? Metal, wood, stone? Gems? Were you a merchant?" This was entirely too much.

"Wha... you... what?" Bilbo spluttered. "You think I'm some sort of tradesman? I fear there is some sort of confusion going on. Perhaps I should leave you to your discussion." He drew himself up. The nerve!

Dori sighed and leaned in. "You are not a dwarf, and we are not hobbits," the old dwarf said primly, reminding Bilbo yet again that the rules might be different here. "Our intention is not to offend, but to learn, Bilbo. All dwarves have a craft. I am a tailor, as is Nori. Bifur and Bofur are miners, Bombur a tinker, the princes are a gemcutter and weaponsmith respectively, and so forth. It is how we..." here his eyes cut to Balin, whose expression spoke of worry. "... how we understand the nature of those around us."

"Oh," Bilbo said blankly, glancing from face to face. "Er... well..." He racked his brain. "I spent much of the day gardening and cooking, if that helps. Quite social, don't you know, always running about," he chuckled and realized he was laughing alone. Honestly, everyone looked so focused! This was a very strange conversation. "Perhaps you could say I was a cook." Balin was already shaking his head.

"That's a task, not a true craft," he said, provoking a snort of disgust from Bilbo. The hobbit would have argued but Balin was pressing on. "What do you make? Anything durable, anything that lasts."

"Had a lot of books in his house," Nori said while staring at the wall, acting completely disinterested in the whole goings on. "Papers on the desk showed a nice hand, though far too Elvish."

"You went through my papers!" Bilbo shouted. "Nori!"

"A scribe!" Balin announced with a beaming smile. Dori nodded, face a picture of satisfaction. "Did you write for others?"

"Well, I suppose I occasionally wrote a letter for someone or read mail to others without their letters, but..." Bilbo said to universal smiles. "I did compose a book for the children of silly tales from the Shire, but I hardly think..."

Ori, who had wandered in midway through the discussion, looked over. "You wrote a new book?" He said with eyebrows raised. "By yourself?"

"Preserving the lore of his people," Balin said. "Very clear. That's settled." Dori nodded, his face a picture of satisfaction. The whole group broke up at once, leaving Bilbo more confused than ever. As Nori stood to leave, though, he seemed startled to find a hobbit at his elbow.

"Let's talk about the propriety of going through someone else's desk and things, shall we?" Bilbo said, a steely smile not making the dwarf feel comfortable. It was a smile that would have fit perfectly on Thorin.

"Oh yes, you'll do just fine," Nori laughed, leaving Bilbo flummoxed. Curse the dwarves for their confusing ways!