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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 5 months ago

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Alright, here's a quick look at the upcoming Norm Maclean one-shot for those interested! Like many of my pieces, it's rapidly become longer than I was planning, so I apologize if anyone out there is dying of impatience waiting. I'm hoping to have it up in the next week (I would say "few days", but I work insanely long shifts on the weekends, so Friday-Sunday is often a bit of a wash around these parts). I hope you like it!

Shoot The Moon

Pairing: Norm Maclean x Female Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), angst, pining, discussion of arranged marriage, love confessions, wet dreams, mild voyeurism, panty sniffing, masturbation (male), nipple play, cunnilingus, anilingus, hair pulling, blow job, praise kink, unprotected sex, unintentionally rough sex, mild cum play, creampie.

The small utility closet is inconspicuous, tucked at the far end of one hall, away from the living quarters and around a corner almost no one ever takes, save for the occasional person assigned to some of the maintenance tasks around the Vault. However, their hours are predictable, and the dinky little room had become somewhat of a place of refuge for him over the years. Since he was a boy, when he really wanted to be alone, he'd steal away to this hidden, quiet place, spending as much time sat on an upturned bucket, studying various manuals, savoring the silence, as he thought he could get away with.

This day, however, it had only been a few minutes of peace before he could hear the telltale sound of someone fiddling with the lock. He'd taught himself how to re-seal the lock from inside, but it could still be picked from the outside by someone who knew how. Panicking for a moment, he sat frozen, gripping the systems terminal manual in his lap so tight he was afraid he'd rip the pages. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. The only person who knew about his penchant for hiding away here was Lucy, and she wouldn't just barge in. She would linger down the hall, near the more common areas, waiting to see him emerge so she wouldn't draw attention.

Maybe he could lie and say he accidentally got locked inside.

However, his overthinking proves unnecessary when the door flings open and the very person whose visage he'd come here to escape steps inside, her head peeking around the corner before she lets the door close behind her.

When she lets out a deep sigh, leaning her forehead against the door, he realizes she hasn't seen him tucked away in the corner, and he knows he needs to say something quickly.

"Uh, hey." he says lamely, slowly rising from his spot, setting the book aside.

She does jump, but when she turns and sees him, her reaction is more positive than he expects.

"Hi there." she replies, her eyes darting around somewhat awkwardly in what he guesses is embarrassment. "Sorry, I assumed this particular random broom closet would be unoccupied."

There's a bit of a pause as he takes in what she said, leaving the two sort of shuffling back and forth as they stare at one another.

"Well, I guess you know what they say about assumptions." he jokes, desperate to ease the weird vibe quickly filling the room. To his pleasant surprise, this earns a seemingly genuine chuckle from her, and the warm, sweet sound makes him smile wider than he has in a long time.

"Well, my apologies. I can find another closet to hang out in." she smiles.

"Oh, please. Feel free to stay and take advantage of the luxurious accommodations as long as you'd like." he says, sweeping his hand in a grand gesture around the space, highlighting the stacks of boxes and shelves of janitorial supplies.

She outright laughs at that.

"You're the Overseer's son, right? Lucy's brother? I'm surprised I don't see you more."

There's a bitter taste in the back of his throat at her words, but he knows she's just making an observation to keep the conversation going,

"Yeah, Norm. I'm fairly practiced at blending into the background." he introduces, sticking his hand out in front of him rather awkwardly for her to shake. His palm feels a little clammy as she presses her own against it, and he cringes internally at how damp it must feel to her. She doesn't react, however, keeping eye contact with him as they shake firmly.

"Norm." she repeats, and hearing her lips wrap around his name like that makes him shiver in a way he really hopes isn't noticeable. She introduces herself, and he politely listens, rather expertly pretending that he hasn't had all the information she gives him for weeks. It would be difficult to not know of her purely due to her popularity as a topic of discussion, but he knows he would have been fascinated by her, regardless. Something about her, something beyond the physical beauty, is constantly drawing him to her, making her take over his thoughts since she'd arrived.

"So..." he asks. "Hiding from someone?"

She looks rather sheepish for a moment.

"Maybe a few someones. I've been pretty hard-pressed for peace and quiet since we all got here. I knew people would be excited to meet us, but I really wasn't expecting how much people would wanna talk to me, personally. I'm used to a little more alone time than this."

I don't blame them. he thinks. I want to be around you all the time, too, and I hardly know you.

"I mean, really, you're welcome to hang out in here. No one comes in here most of the time, save for once a week or so. I can leave if you wanna be alone." he offers, somewhat awkwardly making a move towards the door.

"Oh, no, please!" she insists, her warm hand resting on his chest for a moment as she tries to stop him. His heart breaks into a sprint. "I don't wanna kick you out of your spot. Maybe I could just sit in here with you for a few minutes?"

He's rather taken aback by her offer, but he certainly isn't going to turn her down, gesturing to a stack of boxes to his right

"Terminal manuals?" she asks, thumbing through the tome he'd been reading when she arrived. "Trying to join the IT team?"

"Oh, no." he says. "It's more of a...hobby, I guess."

"Ahh. So you're teaching yourself to hack into things." she replies, her tone teasing as she cuts her eyes at him. "I could teach you a thing or two."

"Careful, I'll take you up on that." he teases, and she giggles again.

For a long while, maybe an hour or so, the two sit in mostly silent company, browsing through the stack of manuals that lived on the shelf they crowded around. Occasionally, she asks him an innocuous, simple question, or makes a small joke. He aches to do the same, but holds his tongue unless spoken to for fear that he'll say something weird. The tight space of the utility closet is warm, full of the lingering tang of solder and old, crispy book pages.

Eventually, she stands and stretches, smiling at him before placing the book in her hand back on the shelf. She bends over the stack of boxes she'd been sitting on as she does, and he can't pull his eyes away from the shape of her ass jutting out at him. He digs his teeth into his cheek until it hurts to distract himself.

"Alright, I need to get back to that rewiring project I was working on." she says, stretching as she turns to face him. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you, Norm. Let's do it again soon."

"Yeah." he chuckles, trying to remain casual as his gut tightens at the sound of his name on her lips again. "Like I said, whenever."

He doesn't really believe she means what she says, but she does grin rather eagerly before she disappears out the door, leaving him alone in the silence once more. He waits a while longer before following.

That night, he dreams of her. He doesn't try to, but nevertheless, she's there, hidden away in that closet with him again, her intoxicating smell filling the space completely, making his head swim even more than the surreal-feeling setting. Almost everything is eerily similar, only this time he doesn't have to worry about being defeated by his own cowardice...

...and this time she's literally welcoming him with open arms, calling him to her eagerly with that bright smile plastered to her angelic face.

He knows she was only being friendly when she'd laughed at his jokes, that the smile she'd flashed him was probably one she used with everyone. But in that moment, it had felt like it was just for him, and the memory of it makes him shudder strongly as he feels the pressure of her hands against his chest, tugging him closer by the breast pockets of his suit.

"Norm." she beckons, and her seductive voice rings through his head. The dream is bordering on lucid; he knows this can't possibly be real, but wants it to be so badly that he pushes forward, pressing his face into the flesh of her throat. It's warm and ghostly and tingles against him like television static, his brain apparently unable to even guess at how heavenly soft her real skin would be.

Endless praise pours from his mouth, breathless words of worship that don't quite make it to his ears. When he makes full contact with her, she's suddenly completely naked, stood there in all her full, soft glory, her loose hair framing her face beautifully as she wraps her leg around his hip, pushing herself at him eagerly. She doesn't say anything, but he can feel her pleading, begging, and he can feel himself overheating as he fumbles with his fly. She kisses him as his cock slides against her skin, and an almost inhuman growl leaves her as he finds her opening and slips inside, his hips moving quickly and harshly against hers...

Norm wakes rather violently, the sudden, pooling warmth of his spend tainting his sheets ripping him from sleep. It takes a moment for his head to clear, the fog of sleep making it difficult to determine if what he's experiencing now is any more real than what he was experiencing a moment ago. This, however, is much less pleasant. Stumbling a bit as he scrambles to his feet, he takes in the mess all over him, all over the bed, a cold wave of shame washing over him as he makes his way into the bathroom to retrieve a rag. Stripping naked, he shivers unpleasantly as the cool, wet cloth moves across his hot, sticky skin. His cock is still incredibly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm, and he glares at it as it continues to throb softly, not yet deflated.

The humiliation he feels at kneeling beside his bed, naked and tired and scrubbing a mess off of his sheets, is intense. Accompanying it, an overwhelming sense of guilt at reducing her to fodder for his sexual fantasies after talking to her exactly one time. He's no better than any of the other men in the Vault, he thinks. Something of this nature hasn't happened to him since he was a teenager, and apparently all it takes to reduce him to a hormonal mess once more is the presence of a nice, attractive woman who doesn't completely ignore him.

In the aftermath of the frantic cleaning, he sits on the edge of the mattress, hiding his burning face in his hands as he tries his best to will away the second erection plaguing him. Several long, grating minutes pass, the young man too busy staring at the wet spot on his sheets and internally berating himself to even think of trying to get back to sleep.

Eventually, his increasing fatigue and frustration come to a head, and he begrudgingly makes his way to the shower, letting the hot water blast him with a deep sigh. He wastes time for a few minutes, washing his hair unnecessarily before moving to soap his body, pointedly avoiding his aching cock, flushed red and angry at his neglect. If he's going to be a creep, he can at least practice a bit of self control. However, eventually the water begins to cool, and he begrudgingly pops open the bottle of conditioner from the shelf beside him, dropping a generous glob in his hand.

He strokes himself quickly, harshly, trying to finish himself off as efficiently as possible, embarrassed at the way he can't keep the image of her out of his mind, no matter how hard he tries to think about anything else. The brief view he'd gotten of her ass bent over at the waist is drilled into his head, hips bucking hard into his own grip at the thought of sliding his cock into her from behind, burying his face in her soft hair as he pumps away at her, making her squirm and come apart around him. The thought makes him explode, spattering cum across the shower floor and wall.

Resting his forehead against the warm tile, his hand splashes away the mess before fumbling for the nozzle, the spray gurgling to a halt and leaving him standing there, nude and dripping wet, alone with his thoughts. His plan had worked, at least somewhat; he feels nothing now but guilt, mild worry, and the chill of the increasingly cold shower stall. Wrapping himself in a towel and taking in his seemingly half-drowned form in the mirror, he resolves to continue essentially avoiding her. The way he sees it, he's doing her a favor, his ability to act normally around her feeling more and more nonexistent by the day.

Little does he know, his new acquaintance is formulating other plans.

#norm maclean #norm maclean x you #norm maclean x reader #norm maclean smut #fallout prime #fallout tv show #admin post

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descendantsramblings · 3 months ago

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Emerald Comfort

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used: he/him/his

Literally flipped a coin to decide on the pronouns for this one 😔 (it was between male reader or GN reader)

Summary: Morgie is possibly dating the sleepiest guy on earth, and he adores it

Warnings: no plot just tooth rotting fluff, They technically change clothes in the same room but they're literally just changing clothes, Hook being annoying because he can be, pet names (it’s meee)

Word Count: 2.4K

If you were to walk for about twenty minutes while heading west from Merlin Academy, you’d come across a clearing in the woods. A gorgeous little place, littered with wildflowers and the stars are so bright that you’re pretty sure you can see every single one that the universe has to offer to you. If there was a full moon, you didn’t even need a flashlight or lantern to see, the place would take up the silver hue of the sun’s reflection and seemingly glow. Morgie could stay here until the world ended, or at least until the sunrise. One arm bent behind his head while the other lays limp at his side, his pinky interlocked with the one of his lover as the boy beside him points out constellations to him. The picnic blanket they’re laying on is so soft and he can feel the warmth of the other boy’s body ever so slightly warming him from the little bit of distance between their sides. This was perfect to him, possibly the best thing that had ever happened to him, and if it wasn’t for that sweet little yawn that comes from the boy beside him, he never would leave.

“Tired?” His head turns to the side to look at his lover, a gentle smile present on soft, pink lips. “I’m okay, Love,” despite what (Y/n) says his words are ever so slightly slurred by exhaustion. Eyelids obviously heavy as he turns to look into adoring hazel eyes. Morgie shakes his releasing (Y/n)’s pinky so he can hold the boy’s hand instead, “We can go back to the dorms if you want. You can’t fall asleep on me out here in the woods.” A whine escapes (Y/n)'s lips, the boy turning on his side as he reaches out to grasp Morgie’s jaw, “I don’t wanna leave you.” “Now who said anything about you doing that?” An exhausted little giggle escapes his lips next, leaning over to kiss Morgie’s forehead before he sits up. “Gonna cuddle with me?” “It’s what I live for,” Morgie nods, pushing himself up from the ground and rolling his head on his neck. The motion leaves him with a satisfying pop, rolling his shoulders next to replicate the sensation as he watches his lover rise to his feet.

And that’s how they ended up walking twenty minutes through the woods, Morgie wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s body to keep him upright as he sways slightly with exhaustion. He spares a glance to the watch on his boyfriend’s wrist when they get back to his dorm, attempting to quiet the sound of his jingling keys as he does. Two fifty-two a.m., nowhere close to sunrise, there was always next time. Either way, he’s getting to spend the whole night next to his boyfriend so it didn’t matter much. Of course, he loved hearing the boy talk about the stars, but that sweet way his breath evened out as sleep found its way to him was just as good. The click of his door’s lock almost feels too loud as it turns, Morgie hyper aware of the sleeping pirate on the other side of it. He lets it slowly creak open, holding a finger up to his lips as if to shush the boy on his side. Like this wasn’t a game of charades they’d played a hundred times before. Tiptoeing into the room, he slowly shuts and relocks his door, letting his eyes flicker up and down his boyfriend.

(Y/n) is perched on one knee, untying a hightop in a pair of jeans and a sweater far too thick to comfortably sleep in. That’s not going to cut it, so Morgie quietly makes his way to his dresser. Holding his breath as he pulls a drawer full of sweatpants open and grabbing the first two pairs he sees in it out. As (Y/n) rises to his feet, a pair of sweatpants hits his chest and as if on impulse he turns to his side to double check that Hook is asleep. Now fully shoeless he strips from his jeans and replaces them with the pants that were thrown to him, watching through his lashes as Morgie rummages through tee-shirts. He’s barely stripped from his sweater before a band tee slams into his chest. It’s not a band he’s ever heard of -probably from some indie show Morgie went to back home- but the softness of it against his chest makes him consider keeping it. Where does that sorcerer find the softest clothes imaginable? Does he spell them to make them that way? He wouldn’t put something like that past his boyfriend.

Morgie is falling into his bed the second he’s changed, the bedsprings making the softest creak as it adjusts to his weight. (Y/n) is hot on his heels, standing above him with a smile as Morgie makes grabby hands towards the other villain. The smile on his face changes to be near teasing as he shakes his head, motioning with one finger for the sorcerer to turn around. It was his turn to be the big spoon, not something that Morgie would argue with. He slides in behind him, nuzzling his nose against Morgie’s neck as he lets an arm rest on the pillows and the other on his waiting hip. A needy hand is finding (Y/n)’s the second it rests on him, playing with the boy’s fingers. It only takes a few minutes for the sound of the boy’s breathing to even out. Coming out in even puffs over the back of his neck and earning a smile from the sorcerer who’s managed to realize he’s absolutely exhausted. Perhaps that was just the effect of his boyfriend though, who’s to say?

Sleeping through the night doesn’t come easily to Morgie, it never has. His home wasn’t exactly the calmest place to rest; (Y/n) helps though, the warmth, the closeness, it leaves him feeling safe in his presence. It makes waking up once an hour fade into waking up once or twice in the night. That one time comes to Morgie at five in the morning, his room still bordering on the edge of pitch black but there’s birds chirping as if threatening the introduction of the sun somewhere on the horizon. He’s managed to roll onto his back at some point in his sleep, (Y/n)’s arm now resting right above his head in a way he’s sure isn’t comfortable while his other arm is resting gently across Morgie’s waist. He’s got the boy’s head pinned to his chest with one hand, the other somehow is wrapped around (Y/n) tugging him closer as if that was something possible. It’s how he prefers to sleep anyhow, close and sturdy. As if you couldn’t pull them away from each other if you tried.

With an exhausted smile Morgie lets his lips fall to the crown of his boyfriend’s head, leaving a gentle kiss in the touch’s wake. The scent of the boy’s conditioner still lingering in his hair, taking over Morgie’s exhausted senses as he lets his eyes flutter closed again. He could do this forever, he’s pretty sure of that. Morgie risks letting out a quiet whisper as sleep attempts to pull him back in, sparing (Y/n) an “I love you” as sleep takes him back over.

He’s very aware that he’s facing the opposite way of when he fell asleep. (Y/n) can feel that an arm has snaked its way under his neck, supporting it in the way a pillow can’t as the hand attached rests on his chest. Morgie’s chest is pressed up to his back, his other arm resting around his hips and pinning him to the sorcerer. Not like the villain had interest in being anywhere else, how could he when his entire world was right there in that bed? Holding him as if he’d never been held, pressing gentle kisses to the back of his head and neck. There was nowhere that could rival being the guest in Morgie le Fay’s bed, being the boy lucky enough to be wrapped up in his adoring arms. And (Y/n) was the luckiest boy at Merlin Academy, he had to be. To have Morgie le Fay wrapped around him as if he’d float away? There was no competition.

The boy shifts ever so slightly, letting a sound somewhere between a whine and a groan escape his lips. It earns him a low hum from the sorcerer behind him, feeling the arm under his neck shift ever so slightly as Morgie props himself up on his elbow. “Good morning, Gorgeous,” his voice is gruff and barely above a mumble as he leans over (Y/n). Sliding the hand that rests on his boyfriend’s hips up his torso to grip his chin Morgie tilts (Y/n)’s head to the side, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips from over his shoulder. It’s a quick little thing, the boy barely gets to kiss back before Morgie is pulling away. Fleeting lips being followed for a moment before (Y/n) lets his head fall back to the pillow in defeat. He nuzzles his nose softly against his lover’s and if (Y/n) would dare to open his eyes he would see the gentle smile that rests on his pale pink lips.

“Oh and would you look at that, a morning breath kiss and a nose nuzzle despite the fact that Morgie’s morning breath could wake the dead,” Hook’s announcer voice is getting better, “That might just be what love looks like lads.” (Y/n)’s eyes flutter open, fighting the need to close them again as bright light shines into them. “Isn’t it too early for you to be annoying, Hook?” His voice is scratchy, nowhere near as petty as his boyfriend’s morning voice but he manages to get the words out as he glares at Hook who’s perched on his bed with a walkman. “No, actually it’s noon and your little boyfriend hasn’t allowed me to speak so I wouldn’t wake you. Anything to say on that?” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head in a nearly bratty manner as he speaks. “Oh, poor Hook,” there’s a smirk on his lips as he turns around in Morgie’s arms. Ever so slightly tugging the emerald green blanket further up his shoulders as he nuzzles against his boyfriend’s collar bone.

“How did I end up the little spoon?” Morgie’s hand finds the back of his neck, rubbing his thumb over it in little circles as he lets the other fall to his lover’s lower back. “You turned away from me,” it’s nearly a whine, the boy pouting before he presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. (Y/n) lets out a hum, sliding a hand up to rest between Morgie’s cheek and his pillow as Morgie tugs him ever so slightly closer, smiling at the way he’s letting his eyes flutter back closed. “Trying to abandon me in your sleep. I thought you said you didn’t want to leave me?” The response comes in the form of a needy hand fisting the fabric of his shirt over his chest and lips brushing over his collar bone. “Never, mine, all mine.”

The serpent is lucky that (Y/n) can’t see the way his face flushes as he buries his face in the other boy’s hair. His, all his, huh? Morgie couldn’t argue with that. He shifts the boy in his arms, moving the hand on his neck so that he can fully cross his arms around his lover. It earns him a content sigh, (Y/n) already falling back into the realm between awake and dreaming. He could sleep for days if given the chance. Yet, his thumb is rubbing a gentle path back and forth across Morgie’s cheek, one of the only signs that the boy is in any form awake. He could go back to sleep too if he wanted, what was stopping him?

“As much as I love watching you two cling to each other, we’re supposed to be going uptown,” Hook grumbles from his bed, pointing a nearly accusatory finger at Morgie. There’s what was stopping him. It draws a nearly pathetic whine out of (Y/n)’s lips, the boy trying to tug his boyfriend closer by his tee-shirt. “Do we have to?” He’s silently begging for Hook to say he’ll go alone, anything to avoid having to leave the warmth he’s found in this bed. “We promised Uli, wouldn’t want to break a promise, would we?” With a sigh, Morgie finds himself withdrawing his arms from his sleeping lover, “How long are we going to be gone?” “An hour, hour and a half tops,” Hook nods, slipping his headphones off his head as he shakes out his hair. He has to all but peel (Y/n)’s grip from his shirt, pressing a soft kiss into the palm of his hand after he does. And as he climbs off his bed, he slips his pillow into the whining villain’s open arms, “You cuddle this, I’ll be back to you as soon as I can. I promise.”

The boy in the bed only gives him a sleepy nod, sliding his head onto the pillow as if he was laying on Morgie’s chest. And as he speeds to get ready, his hazel eyes stay trained to the lump under his emerald green comforter, a smile pressed to his lips. “God, you’ve been with him since classes ended at three o’clock yesterday. You can handle less than two hours away, lad,” Hook playfully scoffs, rolling his eyes as he looks between the two, “Are you ready?” Morgie nods, patting down his pockets to make sure he has his wallet and keys, “Yeah, just one minute.”

(Y/n) feels the bed beside him dip, barely opening his eyes to see the thin wrist of his lover on the pillow before him. Another hand comes out to tip his head to the side, this time giving him a deep kiss that has him sighing into Morgie’s mouth. A hand coming up to cup the one resting on his chin as he kisses back, lips feather light and adoring against each other’s. When he comes up for air, settling back into the pillow Morgie’s lips find his temple. Kissing down his face in a line until he gets to the spot right before his ear. “You sleep well, Baby. I’ll bring you back a croissant from that cafe you like.” And a sleepy smile crosses the boy’s lips as he cuddles further into his lover’s pillow, “I love you.”

#descendants #descendants rise of red #descendants imagines #descendants fanfiction #descendants x reader #morgie le fay #morgie x reader #morgie le fay x reader

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jtb1963 · 1 year ago

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Nowhere Boys

Season 1

Season 2

The Book of Shadows

Season 3: Two Moons Rising

Season 4: Battle for Negative Space

10 years. Happy birthday Nowhere Boys.

#nowhere boys #nowhereboys #10 years #I can't believe it's been 10 years #This post took a lot of time

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blueberryarchive · 11 months ago

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─୨MISS PEACHES '57୧─

(18+)//tw: drinking, pranking, cursing, light stuff//part 1

The horse trotted to the rhythm of the drums, the festival rumbled in the middle of the dusty nothingness, and the lights illuminated the stadium that seemed to be swallowed by the darkness of the warm night. The moon was hidden by the black clouds that threatened to break, lightning illuminated the mountains in violet, and the smell of a storm was approaching.

Jungkook encouraged the animal to go faster, clicking loudly. Jimin was behind him, with one arm he held onto the younger man's chest, and with the other, he took a long drink of the stolen whiskey.

The night called for things to fall into their hands, the purpose being to create a scandal and wake up that city girl who comes to Rivermouth thinking that she can devour them.

The apple of the Bell Ranch's eye, the star child, the one who left Rivermouth at nine to bring home a crown every couple of months.

The apple of Rivermouth's eye is back, wearing the brightest crown she's ever had. And the Hillside brothers plan to enjoy the show tonight.

With a spontaneous brake, both boys jumped off the horse, pushing people in the audience. Alcohol immunizing insults and judging looks.

"C'mon, Jimin. Hurry up!"

"Fuck off. I told you to bring something gross, ain't you working on Millie's butcher shop?" Jimin opened the lid.

"Ain't your dad a fucking shepherd?" Jungkook spat, tongue heavy with only a few sips.

"What should I bring? Wool? You fucking idiot." The blonde laughed, grabbing the last drink ready on his strap.

The crowd started getting busier, the lights fading.

The music started out of nowhere like the first trumpet of the apocalypse, announcing your arrival on stage.

And indeed, there was no prettier girl in all of Rivermouth.

With your pearly smile, high voluminous hair, perfect hands, and the sweetest smile Jimin had ever seen. Not even his mother looked so beautiful, nor did the statue of the Virgin Mary in the church. You were divine, a torment, taken from the same city hell.

"Take more." He heard himself say. Jungkook put his hand into the jelly jar that Jimin was carrying in his trembling hands.

Park's rebellious heart fell into his stomach as he saw you emerge completely from the curtains, materializing from the yellow dust that rose from the arid floor like a Las Vegas show. With smoke and lights and the Bell Ranch's girl dressed as a coquettish sailor. The lights are brighter than before, the sparkling shine of your glitter bow, your freshly painted nails, the sash around your body: MISS PEACHES 1957. Everyone applauded when they saw your hands rise and jump elegantly across the creaky floor.

Jungkook held the slimy mass in his fingers, gaping and wondering.

"Are you sure that's the right girl, Park?"

"Sure as hell." Jimin licked his lips, feeling a sudden thirst.

Thunder exploded in his ears just as your smile caught a glimpse of him. Like a sign from the Lord of your arrival, he was sure as hell that you were the right girl. "Why, are you scared, little church boy?" Teased, Jungkook clicked his tongue.

Was that what girls were like outside of Rivermouth? With long legs and an apotheotic smile?

"Aim..." Jungkook murmured coming out of his stupor, raising his arm, the reddish juice dripping down his wrist and onto his shirt.

It's not that Park felt hungry or wanted to go to the bathroom, nor that he has a fever. He wasn't nervous either, of course not, the alcohol helped him with that. But the southern heat was so strong from your presence that he felt like he could faint if he blinked and missed one of your steps, steps, steps, turn, one, two, one, two, three, four, CLACK! LIGHT! THUNDER!

Jelly spilled from Jimin's fingers, and his heart drummed to the sound of your patent leather shoes.

If he had known that the Bell Ranch girl was going to be you, maybe he wouldn't have stolen his mother's jam, maybe he wouldn't have called Jungkook that night. But it was already late, and his fingers were tickling, his nose was beginning to despise the smell of strawberries that filled his space.

"FIRE!" Jimin yelled as the clack of your feet made his throat burst.

The sweet rained down until it reached your beautiful face, your delicate costume.

A collective gasp landed Jimin on his feet, at what he had caused. Your smile was gone, your long eyelashes raised above the red. Both boys remained static, confused; as if they had desecrated a religious image.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck! We have to go." Jungkook mumbled hands into fists, eyes on the prize.

Jimin's eyes were bright, the corners of his lips tremblingly raised as he watched you cry in the center of the stage, the unbearable white lights made your translucent tears shine, and the sweaty makeup made you look like a ruined wax figure. The women who surrounded you to protect you from so much shame. Oh, it was a sight.

If your father wasn't screaming, if Jungkook hadn't grabbed his arm, and if his mother hadn't screamed his name from afar. Jimin would have stayed until his feet swelled just to see you, to admire you until he grew weary.

It wasn't the first time he had made a girl cry, but making Miss Peaches '57 cry had been the greatest achievement for 18-year-old Jimin. Best of all, he didn't even have to move, yell at you, or even pull one of your perfect curls.

The mere fact that he came close to you caused tornado damage to such a wildflower.

They had to run through the blue night, ride through the cold drizzle, and disappear for hours until the festival and you were an intelligible echo behind their cruel, childish laughter.

Jungkook licked his sticky fingers while he looked back. Looking for your silhouette coming down the stairs, defeated in the worst way for a girl: when she thinks she looks her best.

That night, both boys slept in the hayfield of an old cabin, drunk and sticky. They both dreamed of the same girl, and both woke up with goosebumps from the dew of a wet morning and a mischievous smile.

One of them dreamed of stealing a kiss from you, the other of making you cry again.

#—📃: an ewe and the captive bolt #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jimin bts #jimin fanfic #bts #bts jungkook

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sheeple · 2 years ago

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Miracles don't exist | 10: The greatest nightmare

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Moldy Voldy is back bitches, now the real shite show begins. A/n: So I'm gonna take a couple weeks off before posting year 5, just to give myself some time to further develop the story and so I don't get burned out lol. Next chapter will be posted 2nd of July [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You're hesitant to knock on the headmaster's door. But the door swings open before your knuckles can make contact with the door.

Professor Dumbledore sits behind his desk, half-moon glasses down his nose. "Ah, Miss Black. For what do I owe the pleasure?" The Headmaster rises as you enter the office. He motions for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, and you obey.

"Liquorish snap?" Dumbledore holds a bowl with black droplets for you to take, but you politely decline.

"No thank you, Sir. I've uhm... I've come to suspect something is happening, Sir." With a motion from Dumbledore, you continue; "I've this weird feeling. It's dark and festering inside me, down to my bones. And when I saw Professor Karkaroff's Dark Mark and heard him speak about it burning, it confirmed my suspicions. The Dark Lord is returning, Professor."

Dumbledore drops his back against the back of his chair, his hands clasping the armrests. "Are you one hundred per cent sure? Do you know when he will return?"

You frown and look down at your hands. "I do not, Sir. But I am terrified. Terrified of what will happen once he does return. What will happen to me?"

Dumbledore hums, stroking his beard. "I am afraid I do not have an answer, Miss Black. The only thing I can tell you is that Hogwarts is always your home."

You sigh. Great, so nothing can be done at all. And it's not like you can stay at Hogwarts during the summer.

Having told what you needed to tell and getting nowhere, you stand up from the chair. "Thank you for your time, Professor. I'll have to go, otherwise, I'll be late for History of Magic."

"Of course, have a nice day, Miss Black." Dumbledore waves you out of his office, a hand massaging his forehead.

You slip just in time into the History classroom and take your usual spot, which is next to Blaise. He gives you a glance and a nod before turning his attention back towards Professor Binns. It's the only class you have with just Blaise.

Today you're learning about the Goblin Rebellion of 1890, which was led by Ranrok. It was said a Fifth-year student with the help of a professor defeated the rebellion.

As Professor Binns' ghost drones on about the ways Ranrok and Rookwood helped each other, Blaise leans over. "How are you and Theodore doing?"

It makes you turn your head towards the taller boy. "Okay? I guess? Why are you asking?"

"Well... the two of you seem awfully close since Christmas break, I only assumed you and him made it official."

You frown. Did you and Theodore grow closer? You guess... but it's not that much different than before the break. Sure, he hangs around more and you actually enjoy his company now, rather than before. But that's because you're friends.

"We're just friends, Theo and I."

"Theo?", Blaise licks his lips and looks at you incredulously, "yeah- just friends. Sure. Theodore jinxes anyone else to hell and back if they dare to call him by anything other than his name."

You glance at the Professor — who keeps droning out his lecture, unbothered by the many sleeping students. "That can't be true. You are all just too wimpy to do it. And besides, Theodore isn't that intimidating."

A laugh escapes Blaise, which makes Professor Binns stop briefly in his story before continuing. "You've never been on the receiving end of his hard stare. He has always been soft for you."

You roll your eyes. "We haven't spoken to each other before this year."

"He's always been too intimidated to approach you. Your family's reputation proceeds you."

You glare at him. Of course, your family is the problem. They are always the problem.

Blaise flicks your wrist with his fingers. "Hey now, don't give me that look. You should be happy anyone told you."

"Why are you even telling me? Aren't you also in the race to win my hand or whatever?" You fold your arms over each other and slump down in your seat.

Now it is Blaise that rolls his eyes. "Originally. That was until she found out your lot still supports You Know Who."

He refers to his mother, obviously. Miss Zabini is truly a beautiful witch, but something about her is off. At least, that was the one time she was introduced to you. Maybe it was the party filled with Death Eaters.

"I don't blame her", you mutter. You wouldn't want your son to marry into a family of crazy blood supremacists.

The remainder of the class is spent in silence. Blaise has nothing to say and your thoughts are running wild. If what Blaise says is true and Theodore has been quote-unquote 'interested' in you for quite some time... Why? What made him? If you never interacted, what pulled him to you?

You only notice that class is over by Blaise getting up and packing his bag. You snap out of your thoughts and collect your ink and quill, stuffing it in your book bag.

"You're coming to the stands with us?", asks Blaise as he points over his shoulder towards the general direction of the final task.

You shake your head. "I'm going to the library and finish an essay I have yet to finish. I'll come later."

Blaise nods wordlessly and turns around, loosening his tie and stuffing it in his bag.

You don't actually need to finish an essay, you just need to have some alone time. And you're glad you took it, because once you reach the tribunes of the final task, people are talking loudly, cheering, and there is a band playing. You spot Draco and his friends and go to stand with them.

Looking around, you see Gjol and his friends standing with Durmstrang and the both of you wave to each other. You also spot Hermione and give her a small smile.

"You've just missed the send-off", says Theodore as he makes room for you to stand next to him.

You hum. "So we're supposed to just stand and wait here?"

Theodore nods. You let out a huff and go sit on the edge of the tribune behind you. That earns a laugh from the dark-haired boy and he goes to sit next to you. "You've just got here, why are you already sitting down?"

"I am not going to stand for who knows how long waiting for someone to show up with the cup to end the stupid thing."

Theodore chooses to stay silent and the two of you sit next to each other, listening and participating in the conversations around you.

The first thing that happens is a red spark rising up from somewhere in the maze and Fleur gets pulled from the competition. Next to getting dragged out of the maze is Victor, who looks weird.

Finally, it is between Harry and Cedric. There are no red sparks or anything coming out of the maze, so they're probably lost somewhere.

Suddenly, a cold-like grip travels up your spine and grabs your throat, making you gasp. You reach for Draco's arm. At first, he looks at you annoyed but when he sees the panicked look on your face, his own quickly morphs into that of concern.

"Are you okay?" Draco crouches down so he's at eye level

You shake your head, blood drained from your face and eyes wide. Without knowing exactly what the feeling is, you know what it means. "I felt it..."

"Felt what?", inquires Draco, grabbing your shoulders to stop your shaking.

"He's back."

At that moment, appears Harry with Cedric out of nothing. The elder boy lies limp on the ground. Harry's bent over Cedric, his shoulders shocking. And he says the words you've been dreading your whole life.

"He's back! He's back! Voldemort is back!"

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127

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barbika1508 · 1 year ago

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Sand, sand everywhere (Moon boys x Reader)

Word Count: 6,7 k Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance Pairing; Moon boys x Reader! Demigod

Summary: A magnet for trouble, is what all of them think of themselves as. Which isn’t far from the truth. It’s what brough them together in the first place. This time around though it leaves them tumbling through the dessert, survival the priority along with definitely a suspicious side-track quest option to explore.

/ Masterlist 2023 /

‘’Sand…fuck off.’’

Nothing changes. The sun remains glaring, scorching on my skin, not a whiff of a breeze the air still and stuffy, our surroundings the same. Sand everywhere. Above us a clear blue cruel sky, no clouds in sight. This is literally one of my nightmares from when I was a kid; how does one survive in the desert?

With half a water bottle at that, and two adult people intent on surviving for more than a day. Okay not to be too dramatic we've been walking for what feels like days, when in reality, we have been stuck in the sun in the middle of nowhere for a few hours. It's quite the change from dreary grey but right now dreamy London. Oh, how I miss the rain. I swear I will never ever again in my life complain about the rain.

‘’Isn’t there a saying, fight fire with fire?’’ I speak up breaking the silence again, ignoring the drips of sweat going down the sides of my face, the scarf I wrapped around my head a blessing and curse. I’ve had a white bombard jacket on me that got destroyed by a random dude who managed to grab me, Marc not far behind punching the fucker off me, the victim being my jacket.

I look at Marc’s back, the man wearing a white hoodie of all things, with camo pants and military boots. Always ready for everything. Meanwhile I’m left in my own to tightly tied boots, regular brown pants and a black t-shirt drenched of course, like I mentioned before in sweat, jacket destroyed and forgotten.

I wasn’t even supposed to tag along. The plan was to scoop out Helwan, a city part of Great Cairo. Mainly to avoid the tourist traps which weren’t our intent either way. Avoid the pyramids is the moto of the trip!

And by moto, I mean my moto. Not being a fan of enclosed spaces - which I can deal with don’t get me wrong - it's just not my personal favourite to crawl around in someone’s tomb. Plus, mummified, mummification all that…

I shake my head and shimmy my shoulders giving a small glare towards the man ahead of me. Thank you so much Steven for your endless depth in knowledge and explanation of mummification rituals and booby trap in tombs leaving me with nightmares on occasions. Bloody brilliant as he would say.

‘’Huh?’’ he finally responds, taking a sudden stop, enabling me to reach him my legs feeling heavier the more we make progress.

‘’Fire with fire.’’ I repeat looking at him nonchalantly, hands on my hips as I glance to the map he’s holding, and compass. Marc doesn’t even look at me, frown which is permanent to his ever-resting face deepening as he looks around. I don’t bother following his look, having noticed he has brought us exactly where one who is getting tired doesn't want to be. A giant hole with mountains of sand surrounding us on all sides.

‘’Do you think I can combine my fire with the heat? As in two elements clashing?’’ I ramble the heat getting to my head somewhat, my concentration, alertness and survival instincts having left a while back thanks to the unbearable climate. To prove my point, I raise my left hand rubbing my thumb with the rest of my fingers together, fire lighting up over my fingertips. It feels cooler sitting atop of my skin even as I spread my palm and let it dance in the middle of my hand.

‘’Ah watch the map, sweetheart.’’ Marc moves the said map away as if I was intentionally going to burn it ‘’And no I don’t think that will work. At least with your train of thoughts.’’

He pauses looking at my hand and up at me, gauging my expression half rising an eyebrow in question ‘’Not working.’’ I confirm bringing both hands together brushing them along, the flame disappearing leaving no trace behind.

‘’Save your energy, baby. Night won’t come in a few hours we still have a trek ahead of us.’’ only his voice softens as he speaks, his hard stoic look deepening as he turns to the map, looking around us as if something new is going to miraculously pop up any moment.

‘’Think positive, thoughts, positive thoughts.’’ I sigh trying not to get irritated ‘’Okay. Why don’t we just stop for a moment…’’ he continues to shuffle the map turning it sideways for some reason ‘’...and regroup because this isn’t going anywhere.’’

‘’We’re fine. I got this.’’ Short and direct Marc takes a step away but halts again.

‘’Aha.’’ I cross my arms watching him, turning towards me glancing uphill of the sand dune, then towards the sky squinting ‘’Why don’t you ask Stev…’’

‘’No, I’ve got it.’’ He's quick to stop me with a look too ‘’I may look lost, but I have a plan and I’m getting us out of here. I don’t break my promises.’’

He’s taking this seriously I mean as he should, but the bravado won’t help us if he gets us lost further even if it’s by accident ‘’I never even thought about you breaking any promises, love.’’ I'm still keeping my cool ‘’Just to share your burdens with me, remember? I might have never been in a desert like you Mr. Mercenary but I’m resourceful too need I remind you?’’

I quirk an eyebrow keeping serious, ignoring the skip of my heart thanks to the smirk he offers keeping his eyes on me, only after a few moments hinting at the map ‘’Oh I’m well aware of your resourcefulness baby.’’’ he muses ‘’I remember well. But like you’ve said I’ve been through this; I’m getting you out.’’

‘’Macho man to the rescue.’’ I grumble letting my arms drop taking half a step back to eye the dune ‘’I say we climb this to find an easier path to take than just, descending and climbing so much.’’

‘’Just wait.’’ he stops me, turning away again ‘’Why would we climb up a dune if our direction is the complete opposite one.’’

‘’To be honest babe, our direction doesn’t look like it’s too clear to you right now. Is the compass broken?’’

‘’The compass is not broken, why would…’’ he takes a deep breath trying to contain his own frustrations, eyes settling on me but softening as he turns sideways ‘’We’re headed west.’’

‘’Huh??’’ I immediately make a noise in question.

‘’They will be expecting us in the first town we get into.’’ he explains ‘’How many were after us, they have connections. So, we head west towards the sea. The Nile is way behind us. Towns in west are closer than the ones in North.’’

‘’Southwest.’’ I blur out Marc blinking at me in question as I try to remember the map of New Cairo, I took from our hotel lobby out of curiosity ‘’We don’t risk the chance of reaching Suez. I’m sure they will wait for us there too. So Southwest.’’

He stares at me unmoving for a solid moment ‘’Is your geography broken? Are you getting over heated?’’

Placing a hand on my hip I give him full attitude his double take making him hesitate in approaching me ‘’I don’t think you want to fall into argument with me about geography Mr. Spector.’’ I have jabs ready to send his way but refrain from doing so ‘’I’ll give you space to find the way in either case so I’m going this way.’’

Faster than him I reach the dune in two steps stubborn to climb it, even if I can hear him hot on my heel the map rustling ‘’Baby, don’t…’’ he calls after more rustling heard ‘’I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry. The heat isn’t helping, please don’t rush.’’

It’s easy to spiral into the flurry of emotions that are intensified by the heat which brings irritation into the mix, anger and frustration not too far behind. Its why I desperately want to keep calm and collected, trusting the man with my life after all with no complaints so far. And what do I get in return ‘’...a moody boyfriend, who wants to be the hero. Marine my ass, we’re in the dessert not the middle of the ocean, gods…’’ I continue grumbling under my breath the dance of trying to keep my balance beginning as the sand under me gives in, making me trip and almost fall the higher I go.

‘’I can hear your kind words, sweetheart.’’ Marc calls out a tinge of amusement in his voice.

‘’Uh huh, anytime hot shot.’’ I snip back, getting irritated by each stumble, landing on my hands every time, knees digging into the sand preventing me from rolling backwards or sideways ‘’Seriously thought, why pyramids, why the desert? Why didn’t we stop in Kefalonia and then side-tracked here? No, that old pigeon had to make it a priority of life and death, didn’t he?’’

‘’Careful, Y/N.’’ he warns as I stumble again.

‘’We just dove right into trouble didn’t we, head first! We are magnets for danger and bad things to happen…ahhh fuckl!! I end up flinching at something black in the corner of my eye, making an appearance. It stands out from the beige hues of the sand the creature turning out to be a scorpion.

‘’You okay babe?’’ Marc calls pausing as have I in our climb.

‘’Yeah, yeah just a scorpion it’s all.’’ I breathe out bringing fire to my left hand the flame bigger this time, slowly reaching towards the creature. My idea works out as the poisonous bugger turns away from danger. Making a grimace I keep my hand on fire even as I take a step higher the small creature not really running away just putting distance from us.

‘’Whatever you do, don’t let it sting you alright?’’

I roll my eyes patience disappearing like water dripping through fingertips, the heat and, dryness of my mouth starting to get to me ‘’Thank you for the warning, Captain Obvious.’’ I snap before I can stop myself, cursing under my breath harshly as another scorpion makes an appearance closer to where I rest my other hand, the fucker wiggling from underneath the sand. Bringing my flame closer in hopes of scaring the creature away it barely moves.

‘’Sorry for trying to look out for you…’’ Marc doesn’t sound too pleased gearing up for a tangent, which is another clear sign the heat is getting to him as well. His voice drifts to the back of my mind as I attempt to step higher placing both hands on the sand to steady myself, ending up bamboozled as a third scorpions makes an appearance the bugger jumping onto my right hand, the touch of its tiny feet or whatever immediately making me straighten up, and wildly swing my arm away thankfully the scorpion flying away as panic raises up my throat, and chest ‘’...not that you listen to me, being stubborn as you are…’’

Unaware of what’s happening Marc's voice continues to rant onwards getting his emotions out at least. My attention shifts onto the shifting of the sand which is not my doing as I’ve buried my knees into it, watching in horror as at first black dots make appearances, not stopping even as the scorpions peek out their tails following.

‘’AH FUCK, NOPE NOPE MARC RUN!’’ I end up totally and completely freaking out not waiting for them to get the chance to crawl closer, as I let my fear even if it’s irrational crawl from my chest and up my arms the mere thought of another tiny beastie touching me sending me into a different type of spiral where I want to cover myself in gasoline and burn myself alive.

Given my predicament, as I shout, I turn around jumping eagerly but carelessly away from the sand landing harshly on my ass, the momentum sending me sliding down towards Marc that watches in confusion, eyes squinting mouth opening to question me.

‘’What are…’’

‘’Run, run, nope, nope.’’ I rush reaching him in no time focused on watching where I’m going to land as I pick myself onto unsteady feet making progress downwards much faster than upwards, barely seeing Marc’s surprise as he sees and realizes what’s happening as I grab his arm fire retreating so I don’t burn him in the process of holding and dragging him with me.

The next few moments pass like a blur as panic fuels me, not even giving me the chance to breathe as we reach the bottom and end up running burning feet and muscles up the other dune. Not even arguing I push my boyfriend in front of me releasing the fire as if I’m a flame thrower towards the oncoming scorpions that cover the entirety of the sand behind us, death staring at our faces.

The little death bringers hiss as they get burned alive, but the others proceed to climb over their dead kin to get us. The feat of the climb would leave us breathless and whipped in normal circumstances – which these are obviously not. Reaching the top Marc unceremoniously grabs me by the back of my shirt, pulling me into himself as I retreat my flames drenched in sweat, and ongoing terror.

We are not given the time to recollect our thoughts or bearings as the world is spinning before my eyes, body hitting the ground again. I’m not sure if he pulls me with him or I pull him, but my eyes close shut as well as my mouth the tumbling and rolling down another dune unstoppable. Picking up speeding I get battered and heavily caked in sand disorientation akin to jumping into the ocean in the middle of the night.

Panic raises as I let out a muffled shout through my closed mouth, something grabbing my arm shadow passing above me resulting in something – someone - landing on me halfway squeezing air from my lungs. Giving into fate as I’ve got nothing better to do, or any other choice the fall ends after what feels like an intense few solid moments.

I expect fully to be tossed and pulled by gravity onto my face. My left knee first hits the sandy ground, body following, I end up hitting my head and crushing with upper body onto something solid, that’s definitely not sand, my hands catching me rather poorly digging into the hot sand.

Opening my eyes, I’m faced with a coughing Marc as he groans, face twisting in pain thanks to the impact he sustained with catching me his attempt at shielding me squeezing my heart when the realization hits me.

‘’Ah damn babe.’’ I rush breathless myself making quick work of getting off him straddling him over the stomach and with shaky hands brushing away sand from his handsome face as he lies with his eyes closed catching his breath ‘’Sorry my love and thank you for that.’’ I rush to say giving him a once over, his clothing lacking any and all colour of blood.

Before I can pepper the man in kisses as thanks, I turn around out of instinct ready for any kind of threat, the scorpions still freaking me out. I’m met with the dune and no sign of danger, the little beasties gone. So, while Marc regains his bearings I check where we landed, noticing a few raised mounds of sand still surrounding us. We’ve landed deeper than we were before, the dune behind us providing some form of shade.

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ Marc groans out squinting as the sun is shining directly into his eyes, prompting me to move and block it as I run my fingers through his slicked hair, and over his head making sure he isn’t injured ‘’Are you an angel?’’

The question has me looking at him pointedly his smile a dead giveaway that he is fucking with me. So, I mildly-lightly punch him on the chest proceeding to climb onto my feet ‘’Ouch. A rough angel.’’ he grumbles as I begin to brush sand that has once more made its way everywhere in my hair and clothes and other places.

‘’You love it.’’ I snicker offering him my hand. He glances from it to my face contemplating ‘’Awww babe you don’t trust me?’’ I joke watching as the man gets serious and grabs onto my forearm. With a literal skip as he pulls me forward for what I was ready he stands up in front of me, both hands settling over my hips, pulling me into him.

‘’Undoubtedly.’’

It always gives me almost a whiplash how quick he can change emotions. How he turns teasing into another level of seriousness and deepness. Guilt tugs at my heart as it’s his turn to touch and make sure I’m alright, ending up cupping my cheek meeting my gaze.

‘’I know love.’’ I offer a smile ‘’I trust you. With my life.’’ I reassure him, as he rests his forehead against my own, holding onto me, as I have my arms wrapped around his neck, even though I am standing on my toes Marc being taller than me. It never posed a problem, he’s always eager to bend down to get kisses. Mr Grumpy is in fact Mr Soft and needy for kisses - but don’t tell anyone that.

That’s until I run my tongue over my teeth, prompting me to run it up and down frown making an appearance as saliva gathers in my mouth.

‘’So, the West is not an option anymore.’’ Marc begins shifting, one hand finding mine as he takes half a step back looking around then upwards to the sky checking the sun and the tops of the dunes. Maybe Khonsu is making an appearance, the god of the moon making his disappearing act rather lengthy.

‘’Maybe we really should wait for the night. Then we can…you, okay?’’

I nod immediately, giving him a thumbs up by letting go of his hand as I turn my back to him taking a few steps away, spitting rather clumsily in my opinion bending down as a result as I try to spit out more of the sand that has gotten in my mouth.

‘’Gross.’’ He mumbles to which I hum in agreement turning around once I deem myself presentable feeling legit happy that Marc is turned away his attention focused on something directly ahead of him. Narrowing my eyes, I wipe my mouth as I step back to him, not even catching up as he out of the blue bolts forward in a rush, breaking into a run towards a smaller stack of sand.

‘’I wasn’t that disgusting, we all spit.’’ I complain, pouting, ready to sit down and wait for the night. Sitting or lying down whatever, just not moving is my goal. I am dehydrated, I am tired, and I’ve had enough life-death experiences to last me a while.

‘’Y/N!’’ Marc shouts rather excitedly and louder than I’ve heard him in a while. With teases and more complaints and whines dying on the tip of my tongue I speed my step approaching my boyfriend as he begins digging. Put of all the things that we could and most importantly should do.

I’ve learned a while back not to question the things my boyfriends tend to do anymore. There’s always a perfectly logical explanation to their actions, even if they look insane doing them. I watched silently as Marc switches his digging position pushing the sand away like a madman, making me rethink of a head injury - he might have a concussion, he did catch me and fell over hard.

Just as I’m about to question and stop him, the sand gives in Marc still digging to reveal stone. Flabbergasted as I look at our surroundings then back to the stone I drop down next to him following blindly uncovering a structure out of all things. The very peak of it.

‘’This is crazy.’’ I find myself stating in awe, quickly realizing we’ve stumbled onto a pyramid.

‘’Insanity.’’ My boyfriend laughs, stopping soon getting tired, dots of sweat littering his forehead, chest rising and falling visibly as he settles his hands on his hips, as I continue pushing the sand away having done it with not as much as rush as he did.

‘’Do you think…’’ he begins but quiets prompting me to stop and turn to look at him in question urging him on ‘’Do you think you could, do some of your magic maybe? To help us out?’’

In normal circumstances, I would go off him - all with good humour of course - Marc calling my powers magic, which no I don’t do magic. I control the four elements: it's completely different! And second the teases and comebacks from before for me not mucking around and needing to save my energy goes all out the window.

But then again these are not normal circumstances after all. And like I’ve said, the desert makes you do and act weirdly. Staying calm and cool is the way to go, even if right now I want to punch a hole in the earth. Oh, excuse me, sand.

‘’You do realize, which I’m realizing as it’s just hitting me the last two, three times I’ve used my powers we’ve been attacked??’’ he glances away then back at me the puzzles clicking in his mind too ‘’The bandits, the weird birds, the scorpions? I feel like the odds are against us.’’ I cross my arms looking at the sky like he did.

Being a descendant of a god, your fate is not to be so ordinary. Hence me meeting the avatar of Khonsu and falling in love with him sticking to the not ordinary path even in the love department. Wacky is the word to use here.

‘’Aren’t they always?’’ he signs deeply glaring at the stone, rethinking his plan immediately ‘’But you’re right. I won’t risk you getting hurt, we’ll just…’’

Knowing where he is going with this, and the change in air only now becoming noticeable as I focus on it, it's rather easy to reach outwards and feel the air move around us. Grasping a weak air current, I twist my wrist wrapping it around my hand, pulling on it with all my might.

‘’...we’ll just have to come back, and…what the…oh no Y/N…’’ Marc notices the shift as sand gets picked up, drawing it away from the stone. I give Marc a quick glance, confidence blooming in my chest as it’s going better than I’d imagined it to.

And then of course things go wrong.

The sand literally swallows me whole. Just like in cartoons.

‘’Y/N!!!!’’ I hear Marc’s desperate cry before everything goes black, thanks to my eyes closing automatically and well the sand eating me. You know, it is an irrational fear they’ve said. Sinking, it doesn't just happen. Frankly I am amazed as I’m not freaking out as much as one might in a situation as this one. It probably has to do with the fact that I don’t want any more sand in my mouth, or up my nose so far avoiding that happening. Oh yeah and I’m still sinking the sand pressing onto me from everywhere.

The stop is abrupt, not soon after leaving me completely turned around – again! This time around through lying on my back thank the gods, the lack of pressure on my front urging me to take a breath, joy legitimately sparkling in my heart at the lack of suffocation.

Taking it as a positive sign I crack my right eye open noticing the shade I’ve slid under. The shade is not the impressive sight, or thing to be amazed by. My gaze settles onto the clear sight of a pyramid that became partially uncovered in whatever I’ve triggered leaving what looks like an entrance exposed to light. The stones of the pyramid are white preserved thanks to the sand. There’s very little damage by first look everything looking picturesque. Tilting my head, I focus on the entrance lacking any barriers.

Peculiar. The sand doesn't seem to be sipping into the pyramid, so it means the lower part of it is in fact sunken. Or so it appears to be. Huh. There had been one too many coincidences today. Too good to be true rings in my head.

Goosebumps rising over my skin only confirm the unsettling feeling that passes through me. I offer a look towards the sky more so in question not expecting much to be revealed. And it’s not. Only that I’ve fallen into a sinkhole. Or something like it, the sand having crumbled in the weirdest way possible - definitely not natural. The shape of the dips makes no sense, and the disappearance of that much sand that enveloped me to go into nothing?

Strange things are on the horizon.

A particular grunt has me moving finally, the joints in my knee cracking as I push myself to look above my head. I observe Marc uncharacteristically, awkwardly and clumsily descend, kicking up sand catching himself on his hands in odd ways, not looking composed at all.

He looks angry. Why is he angry??

Still whipped out from my own fall and a moment of what I thought was my doom, I process things a bit slower, the lack of water a hard thing to ignore. So, I stare as my boyfriend lands on the ground catching himself on his hands, wasting no time with getting up and sliding to me like a baseball player would.

‘’Are you okay hermosa? Are you hurt?’’

I raise both eyebrows in surprise to see Jake fronting, the angry look making sense. And so do his hands that immediately touch, fingers pressing onto my neck checking for injuries not even waiting for an answer.

‘’No, I don’t think so.’’ I manage to find my voice letting him pull me into a sitting position, hands working firmly over my body. He even rolls his sleeves up, worry deeply etched into his face.

‘’Ah you should have been more careful…’’ he picks up a conversation out of the blue angrily his touch gentle as he takes a hold of my left hand examining it ‘’...shouldn’t have let her, in the first place pendejo…’’

It's not hard to figure out he’s arguing with his alters. So, I cup his cheek with my right hand bringing his attention to me, eyes blazing with fire ‘’It’s on me, mi amor.’’ I begin running my thumb over his cheek ‘’I went ahead and ignored Marc, okay?’’ offering a smile it doesn’t ease Jake’s frustration as he goes back to touching me, switching onto my right hand pressing a kiss on top of my knuckles making me know he’s not as angry as he looks ‘’I’m sorry.’’

‘’Nena, you have nothing to be sorry about…’’

Shutting him up in the most effective way I know, I lean forward practically punching him in the face, but luckily avoiding that, as I clash our lips together. And noses.

That doesn’t faze Jake what-so-ever as he sighs into the messy kiss, being the first one to tilt his head and easing it into a more sensual one, that I go along with eagerly. We’ve gone from watching movies together on the plane to a night that we couldn’t stop touching one another, to being almost killed more than I can count in one day, which feels like a lifetime to be honest. It's been too long since we kissed or took a moment to ourselves. Or maybe that’s just my love for them talking. I absolutely adore the men I am with, love them to bits and pieces as Steven would say.

The kiss doesn’t last long thanks to the dryness of our lips partially. I’d happily keep locking lips as long as we would need air to breathe but we are not out of trouble yet.

‘’Mi corazon you don’t always have to jump on my side to defend my silly hiccups.’’ I genuinely smile at his still serious expression that has loosened, without shaking off his worry ‘’Can you let Marc know, he’s not the one to blame? Like at all.’’ I give him a pointed look, Jake staring at me wordlessly, lips twitching as if he wants to speak but is mumbling to himself.

Looking towards the pyramid, thanks to his hand holding my own I can feel the change in his demeanour how his body tenses, shoulders subconsciously squaring up, the look he gives me emotionless for a moment.

‘’Babe.’’ I smile wider ‘’For an ex-mercenary you’re a lousy babysitter.’’

His eyebrows shot up in question as he looks at me fully confused ‘’Babysitter?’’ Marc's American accent comes through, hands not exploratory anymore instead wrapping around me, as he sits finally having been standing on his knees awkwardly this entire time.

‘’I’m a menace.’’ I muse referencing an inside joke. One of his neighbours, an older lady that looks like the queen of England to me, literally compared me to Dennis the Menace after the 4 random meet ups with her in the elevator, usually when we were coming back to Steve’s apartment.

He rolls his eyes at that, my boyfriend not entirely agreeing with that categorization ‘’I can handle you. We’ve established that, troublemaker.’’ The smirk he offers has me clicking my tongue and wiggling my eyebrows at the suggestiveness.

‘’Oh, we have yes. But a refresher never hurt.’’ To be extra I give him a wink, getting distracted after by a breeze ruffling my loose hair, ponytail giving in thanks to the tumble I’ve experienced. We both look towards the entrance of the pyramid reality crashing down. We are still stuck in the middle of nowhere.

‘’Raincheck?’’

I snort at that rolling my eyes at his eagerness to always get down and dirty so to speak. I have a retort already on the tip of my tongue, as I start to push myself to stand but get stopped by Marc’s calloused, slightly rough hands cupping my cheeks bringing my attention back to my once more worried boyfriend ‘’You are okay right?’’ he asks so seriously, eyebrows turning upright.

He’s blaming himself ‘’I will be after I get a kiss from you.’’ he softens, giving me a pointed look. So, I throw my arms around his shoulders to be close ‘’I’m serious.’’ I pout giving him puppy dog eyes for good measure. His pretty brown eyes take me in as he contemplates something, gaze darting to my lips two times. He closes the distance simply pressing his lips against my own. I don’t rush him knowing that something is going on in his head.

‘’Ah you see. I’m all better.’’ I speak as we part. But the man is still worried, even under all that serious gruffness, I can read him like the crystal blue sky. Because we are alike.

‘’Promise?’’ he pushes not fully convinced, but willing to let go.

‘’Cross my heart and hope to…’’ Due to another more heated glare I show my tongue before finishing my sentence, delivering a peck to the tip of his nose and on the corner of his lips ‘’Come on. Your adventure is right ahead of you.’’

Feeling energized and more like myself even if it's temporary, I jump to my feet letting Marc do the same and take the lead, following closely behind observing our surroundings. The day is not over yet.

‘’At least I can scratch ‘Tomb Raiding in Egypt’ off my never-want-to-do bucket list.’’ I mumble more to myself, as the sun hits us the feeling of unsettledness hitting me once more. It's as if we are being watched. And I’m sure Khonsu is somewhere around, or close enough but he doesn’t give me the creeps I have at the moment.

‘’Says the one who completed 3 of the Tomb Raider’s games.’’ Marc jests in return, hand brushing over my back as he pulls his sleeves back down his arms pulling me into the shade of the doorway, a frown drawing itself over my face.

‘’It's different.’’

Unsettled and rattled I zone in on the hieroglyphs beautifully preserved in the doorway we take shelter in, shade salvation in the heat and emptiness of the desert. I am not the best decoder nor a reader of them, Steven taking it easy with teaching me as Greek and Latin are hard enough to learn anew after years of not studying actively. What I can see is that someone important has been placed to rest in here at first glance.

‘’Wait for me here.’’

At Marc's statement I turn around immediately staring at him in disbelief ‘’Haaa? What for?’’

‘’I’ll be in and out. Khonsu said this should be trap-free and straightforward. This tomb belongs to an important scribe, but not so important to hide gold and traps. I just need documents. So, stay under the shade…’’ he proceeds to hand me the half empty water bottle that survived everything having been stored in his cargo pants ‘’...and wait for me. No arguing.’’

The last part he adds knowing how I’d react. The only thing keeping me back is him. I don’t want him to get stuck in his head and worrying about my safety all the time. His fear of assuming the worst bringing him endless stress and anxiety, something that I’m trying to get him to stop or at least lessen. I want to help him, make him happy because he deserves the world. And that’s something I’m willing to get for him. By any means necessary to.

Keeping my mouth shut I offer a nod leaning against the wall for effect to prove to him I’ll behave ‘’Good girl.’’ his voice dips lower as he presses a kiss to my forehead offering me a smile before he’s turning away hand running over his slicked hair. He disappears inside as if he’s been here a million times, not really checking his footing or anything.

What a hero huh? I can’t even smile at the thought as he takes things upon himself that he does not need to do so at all. He knows I’m a good fighter, knows my control over the elements provide a huge advantage making the impossible possible, but his stubbornness knows no bounds. So protective, they all are.

Despite my thoughts going astray trying to distract myself from imagining all the scenarios mainly from the video game I’ve played happening - yeah, I mean the death scenes - I reach into the cargo pants I’m wearing, getting my mini notebook out and a broken pencil that has not crumbled into dust.

Sitting down in the shade, I start to scribble and draw the symbols from one wall, ending mumbling out loud at the ridiculousness of my situation. Currently I’m left alone in the middle of the desert, my boyfriend exploring a few thousand years old previously untouched and undiscovered tomb he says isn’t dangerous, which isn’t reassuring even if he said it himself. I could have stayed in London. I could have ignored the world really and stayed in bed where everything is nice and wholesome.

Nahhhh who says no to life and death type adventures huh, where scorpions are out literally to get you, and men paid by other men trying to get your head for money. What a fun world we live in. To be fair, me being a descendant of the gods also…normality is not a word in my practice I can act upon.

Remembering the water bottle I placed on the ground, I take half a sip of it wanting to legit cry at the brief relief it brings. My throat closes quickly around dryness, it not being enough for anything. How spoiled I am having to remind myself to drink water every hour back home to right now being almost willing to kill for it. And yes, that sounds serious and unethical but it's so damn hot and I’m so thirsty…

My eyes flicker towards the entrance, fingers of my left hand grasping a handful of sand. I am weapon-less after all. The shifting of sand is loud from the darkness, my body tense as I’m ready for what by now I imagine a monster to jump out. Not to sound like a broken record but in normal circumstances this bounty of creative imagination would be welcomed.

I groan in relief as my boyfriend makes an appearance, shuffling outside body moving awkwardly as he stands with his hands raised in an ‘I come in peace’ position. He offers a nervous smile trying his best not to freak out by the dark grey spiderwebs that he has entangled himself into. It has even gotten in his hair, that has gone into an unruly mess of curls.

‘’Heya dove.’’ he greets sweetly ‘’Seems I’ve gotten myself a wee bit entangled at the moment, haven’t I?’’

‘’Just a wee bit.’’ I get on my feet taking him in, reaching for the spider web on his left hand, the substance sticking to me ‘’Oh it’s bljehkkk.’’ I make a face at the feeling. Raising my left hand, I point my pointing finger letting it act as a lighter. Bringing it over to the spiderweb I watch it spark and burn away spreading like lightning disappearing from Steven’s arm.

‘’Bloody hell.’’ my boyfriend flinches as I continue freeing him, pulling strands of him the effect more dramatic than the action ‘’Handy trick you’ve got there.'’ He compliments, making me genuinely smile as he is always fascinated by what I can do. A memory resurfaces of just a few months ago when a cold wave hit the UK, and I’ve resorted to using my fire to keep my boyfriend warm. Very cuddly couple of days I gotta say.

‘’Slight of hand.’’ I muse taking a step back to take him in, watching as he brushes his hands over his torso, back, hands, legs I’m sure feeling as if he has something crawling over his skin ‘’So what brings your charming ass back out? A dead end? A spider?’’

The tease slips my mouth as I try to keep my chuckles at bay, the soft glare that he gives me making me give him puppy eyes. He remains fidgeting.

‘’It’s not like ‘m cryin’ dove.’’ he points out, shaking his head, my smile not lessening. He does glance back at the entrance making me do so as well, the brief silence telling as he is hesitant with whatever he has to say. Or ask.

I’m usually the softest to Steven. What a lie I’m always soft for Steven. But Marc’s hero complex is the reason of my wavering. And a bit of ego. I want him to admit that I’m right for the job. I’m in his league, and capable of protecting him as well. Even if I really, really don’t want to go into a pyramid because I don’t define that as fun or intriguing, but given Steven is fronting…

‘’We need your fire.’’

Those are not the words I was expecting. In my dumbfounded-ness Steven comes closer raising his pocket flashlight ‘’Our flashlight broke. We are literally blind in there.’’ he pauses ‘’Marc wanted to spare you this experience and I do to my love, but it appears we are in need of your assistance I’m afraid.’’

Sweetly and slowly, he moves my arms from their crossed position taking my hands in his acting charming as ever the man not even aware of the hold he has on me and how much I cannot resist him especially when he asks this sweet and gives me puppy eyes.

‘’You need me to be your personal torch huh?’’

Despite his olive skin and the heat pressing down on the sand I see a faint blush hit his cheeks, the immediate shake of his head ‘’I wouldn’t put it like that.’’ he grimaces ‘’You’re more than that.’’

I begin giggling, closing in pressing an obnoxiously loud kiss to his right cheek.

‘’You’re my world.’’ I slip my hand into his ‘’Let’s go then, lover boy.’’

Shy Steven is back as he stutters something under his breath but follows eagerly. Bringing fire forth to my right hand still holding onto his, I light up the darkness not entirely safe from anxiousness but reassured given I have my boys with me. I don’t need more reasons to blindly follow them - after all I would go with them, or for them to the Duat if needed.

#moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector #moon knight system #polyamourous #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic

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xiakha · 4 months ago

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FFXIVWrite 2024 Prompt #1 - Steer

It was late afternoon when Urianger found his mentor settled in on the rocks overlooking the Thaliak River. The vista, though breathtaking, was otherwise quite dismal as it sat far too close to the falls that collected the Tipped Ewer into the Thaliak. The rising mist coated the overlook in constant dew, leaving nowhere dry to sit, and left robes and spirits unpleasantly sodden within half a bell, so it was hardly pleasant to enjoy a meal at. Paper warped and ink ran in the damp without constant wards, making any sort of scholarly work or even pleasure reading tedious at best. And then the bracing wind would pick up and rob the body of warmth and possibly a page or two. Urianger would have understood if Louisoix enjoyed fishing of any sort, there were quite a few Archons of his age who favored that sort of casting as well, but he never saw the sage wield a rod. So it was inexplicable as to why, when not attending to matters scholarly, familial, political, or a mixture of the three, Louisoix inevitably wandered back to this vista, often with a tome and the wooden folding stool one of his more crafty students had gifted him.

At the least, Urianger could understand why Louisoix visited more frequently of late.

“Master Louisoix, the bells grow short ere I take my leave of these shores.”

Louisoix didn’t quite look away from the roaring waters below, but he did acknowledge Urianger’s presence with a nod, “So soon? I suppose Bloewyda and Wilfsunn would have little reason to stay until the final dawn considering how much of their work has relocated to Sharlayan proper.”

“Verily, ‘twould have been but a half moon’s venture for them, had the evacuation not drawn so close.”

“Aye, might as well make the most of it then, I cannot fault their efficiency or pragmatism, the rest of us will join you soon by the end of the moon at any rate.” He chuckled, a little wearily, and turned to the young Elezen with a warm smile, “However, I’m quite surprised you came all the way out here, when I last saw you at lecture. Surely you haven’t been building up your nerve since this morning?”

Urianger looked down at his shuffling feet, “Thou hath seen through mine machinations, I hath indeed mine own agenda here.”

Louisoix adopted that knowing and slightly mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Come to finally ask about this vista, have you not?”

“‘Tis a miserable place.”

“It is! But think of the Ruling Quarter’s canals, how the rowdy waters below and that orderly flow to our west are not merely kin, but one and the same.”

“Archon Totolymo once said ‘twas the work of our forebears that tamed the river.”

“That they did. They had started the work when the Ruling Quarter was first planned, but it wasn’t until my grandsire was but a man grown that we finally received word that the flooding here was completely under control. A full hundred years after the establishment of the colony!”

“And thy reverence for such engineering bringeth thou henceforth?”

Louisoix chuckled again, “Mayhap in part. Nay, I look downriver and imagine what feats of engineering, daring, and aetherology would be required to tame the whole of the mighty Thaliak.”

For a moment, both scholars looked north, out at the swift current glowing orange with the setting sun.

“Would such a mastery ever be possible?”

“Unlikely in my lifetime, and possibly not even in yours or your children’s. But the diligent planners of the Ruling Quarter’s canals hadn’t expected to see the completion of their life’s work. Nor did those that they handed their tools and blueprints to as they passed. If we started the work today, we could expect much the same, and yet, with every generation, our mastery over the river would grow.”

Louisoix turned back to Urianger and carefully affixed his eyes to the boy’s, “This is the manner with which I view our interpretation of prophecy.”

Already, Urianger was a standout in prognostication and, given a few more years of tutelage, would become Louisoix’s equal, if not his better.

“...’Tis much to think about.”

“Come now, Master Augurelt, if we do not act upon the knowledge that we have, what use is it? We cannot stand idly by and let the future as seen by history come to pass while we still have initiative in the present.”

He gestured out to the river, “The factors that influence the waters are myriad, but they are finite. The current is unruly, swift, and strong, but it can be managed with time and diligence. Though the tools and techniques be different, to influence the future as we do these waters would not be insurmountable.”

Urianger looked long and hard at the river, “...And thus thy course of action.”

“My dear student, we have interpreted the same Divine Chronicles. You know about as well as I do the challenges that lie before us, before Eorzea. To condemn a continent of souls to their deaths… I made my respectful dissent clear five years ago, and my stance has not changed yet.”

“And thou wouldst confer these beliefs and goals unto the next generation, unto me and mine.”

“And with any luck, you shall do the same with the generation after yours, if it were to come to it, if the Calamity be delayed but not denied.”

A stiff breeze passed them both, and they shuddered in unison.

“Come, let us quit this dreary overlook before we both catch our deaths.”

***

It was a full eighteen years later that Urianger found himself overlooking the Thaliak once again. This time from the other end of the falls from which the Tipped Ewer flowed into the river proper, outside the guarded walls and vaulted halls of the Great Gubal Library. Elidibus had a little more to confer with this Arbert character that Urianger was not to be privy to. However, with his soothsaying and basic reasoning skills, he could intuit what Elidibus had to say.

The Ascian was already looking to twist and pervert the heroic desires of Arbert and his party to his own ends. For Urianger to then twist these machinations to his own favor was too risky by half. Surely Elidibus would recognize duplicity from the duplicity with which he acted himself.

And yet, Urianger had a strange reassurance: somehow he was sure the Emissary wasn’t all there. It was as if he were a mammet, motivated by the magicks that powered and instructed him, without forethought or real cunning. In some ways, it would seem he sought out balance seemingly for the sake of balance. Oh, of course there was this talk of Ardor and the Rejoining, but so little that was seemingly relevant to Elidibus’s current machinations, at least from Urianger’s perspective.

But for this scheme, none could know of his true agenda. Arbert was willingly fooled by Elidibus, yes, but he had no such desperate credulity over Urianger’s words and deeds. Thus, Urianger’s betrayal of the Scions had to be absolute if Arbert were to believe it.

Besides, Urianger’s plans aligned shockingly close to Elidibus’s own. He would ride the current until it was too late for the Ascian to change the course, then, instead of blackmail, he would simply beseech Hydaelyn himself.

He took a stone, damp from the mist, and cast it into the thundering waters below. It was not simply the Scions that he was betraying, was it? He wondered what Louisoix would have to say of his current course of action. The sage had had but kindly smiles for Urianger, whether it was genuine affection or out of pity for the neglected boy he grown out of being. Perhaps this was what would cause Louisoix to finally knit his brows and thin his lips in concern. Of all the students he could have passed this obligation to, to shift the tides of fate, it had to be Urianger…

***

Hundreds of years later, G’raha Tia chuckled to himself hollowly. For a man of so many esoteric words, Urianger wrote but briefly and plainly of his internal conflict. There was much regret, but also much hope. The Seventh Umbral Calamity could not be denied, but its effects so blunted as to force the hand of the Ascians so soon after. It was a pity the soothsayer had not the advantage of two hundred years of hindsight. So sure that Urianger had failed Louisoix in his writing, that there would be no one to pick up the great work after he was gone, that the Eighth Umbral Calamity would come and go and naught could be done to prevent or avoid it.

Aye, Cid Garlond and Nero Scaeva were the technical knowhow, they were the ones that engineered and planted the seeds, but it was Urianger’s writings and musings that first alerted them to the possibility that such seeds could be sowed and could actually bear fruit. The mighty Thaliak River may have dried up in the stagnation that overtook all of Eorzea, but were it still flowing, G’raha was sure the Garlond Ironworks now had the tools and techniques to temper its currents.

Or at least reverse the flow of the waters completely.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #wordvomit #story #urianger #louisoix

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wolfstarlibrarian · 1 year ago

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Hullo!

Do you happen to have any wolfstar fics about horses, riding or keeping horses?

Love and admiration for your work!

Hello friend and thank you for the love!

Now to answer your question: kind of? Below are fics that all have either Remus or Sirius riding a horse at some point. Are they all focused on riding horses? Unfortunately not, but with the rising popularity of the cowboy au in the wolfstar fandom, there are certainly more horse fics out there or being written. These are just the ones the Librarian has read and hopes you enjoy.

🐴 Wolfstar + Horses 🐎

AMOR VINCIT OMNIA (love conquers all) by @prettyremus Remus, a servant boy to the cruel Emperor Voldemort, meets Sirius, a charming nobleman. Together they fight for freedom and love in Ancient Rome.

A Good League Hence by @eyra Remus has always believed that December is the Hall's very best month. It's like the place was built to have boughs of holly and fir strung from every wall sconce and picture rail; like its architect, all those hundreds of years ago, designed it specifically to bear the big, fat garlands he and Lily wind around its balustrades and bannisters, and the jolly wreaths that they hoist into place on every door, and the towering, beribboned tree that stands proudly in the hotel reception and takes four of them a whole afternoon to decorate. A country hotel in the wintertime. Plenty of snow, plenty of mulled wine, and a feeling that this Christmas might be different.

Beneath a Big Blue Sky by @eyra The four-by-four heaves its way down long, twisting lanes, little more than dirt tracks scuffed into the surrounding fields and hemmed in by serpentine walls of flat, grey stone. They truly are in the middle of nowhere: the countryside rushes past, all rolling green hills and vast, endless skies, and it's odious. Sirius wants to murder James with his bare hands. Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.

Neon Moon by @allhalloweve

“Come down here and I’ll tell you.”

“My parents are asleep.”

“You’re twenty-three,” Sirius said in the same tone of false sympathy, though his grin didn’t falter as he stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “C’mon, I’ll be by the fence.”

Desperado by @yeats-infection West Texas, 1861. “I’m unsure when we elected to hand the reigns of this operation over to a hophead felon and a bottom-tier bounty hunter.”

A Change In The Stars by @neondomino Desperate for a change in his stars, Squire Sirius pretends to be a Noble to compete in the jousting tournament. Along the way he meets two men. Lord Lucius Malfoy, who offers to be his… as long as he wins, and clothing merchant, Remus Lupin, who doesn't care whether Sirius wins or loses, claiming nothing would change how he feels. Inspired by a Knight's Tale

Untold Blessings by @aryastark-valarmorghulis Magic once existed in England and has finally returned. Mr Sirius Black, a gifted magician, ventures, rash and ill-prepared, into Faerie.

#am probably missing some obvious ones so please reblog with links to your faves!#wolfstar #wolfstar fic recs #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #maraduers #hp fanfic

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bluegalaxygirl · 1 year ago

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Zosan X reader Halloween Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist Link

----------Halloween series -

^ Trick or Treat - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - Plot: You, Zoro and Sanji celebrate Halloween with your two kids while staying in a holiday house.

^ Ruthless - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - NSFW - P11 - Plot: Beast off the walking dead series. After the governor attacks your people you head back to help plan an attack back. Luffy's not happy with being left out so ends up following only to end up at the governor's town.

^ Am i crazy? (Trigger warning) - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - Plot: Reader hasn't been sleeping or eating, they wont let anyone touch then and keeps having accidents. Everyone if worried or thinks they've gone crazy but the reality is so much worse.

^ Extinction - Plot: While exploring a snow island the crew uncover an extinct Gnoph-Keh that awakens and tries to distory everything.

^ Im ready to fight god or become him - P1 - P2 - Plot: Zoro, Sanji and Luffy all fight Cthulhu while Reader and the crew try and stop the cult who summoned him

^ There not fish men - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - Bonus -Plot: During a freak storm the sunny gets battered sending Nami, Robin, Reader and Chopper over the edge and into the water. Deep sea creatures save them but the rest of the straw hats think their crew mates are going taken.

^ Its not just a dream - Plot: Nightmares plague the readers head and when confiding in Robin is told that the things they see are real creatures who feed off your dreams.

^ Full moon - P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - Plot: While out taking photo's Sanji and reader get attacked by a strange creature. While the crew decide to hunt it down to save the village Sanji starts acting strange.

^ Ghost ship - Plot: One day while out at sea a strange fog rolls in form out of nowhere almost making them crash into a torn up ship.

^ Horror movie Night - Plot: You decide to set up a horror movie night for the crew to celebrate Halloween but first you need to know what everyone likes. NSFW part (Minors DO NOT read) - Plot: After decreasing Horror movies with the boys things get hot and heavy in the kitchen.

^ Blizzard Castle P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - Plot: A vampire has their sights set on reader capturing them and taking them to his castle. It up to Sanji and Zoro to save them.

^ Dead Rising - plot: Trying to find food in an abandoned town takes a turn for the worst when a dead man walks to you. - Alternative Ending

^ Halloween party - headcannon: what a Halloween party is like with the straw hat crew.

^ Haunted house - Plot: Reader drags Zoro and Sanji into their first haunted house.

#polly relationship #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji x zoro #zosan #zosan x reader #one piece #halloween

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unicornprincessinthetardis · 1 year ago

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So I've just discovered that the BBC iPlayer has higher-quality versions of Nowhere Boys than it did before (it probably still has the same things censored which I know some people object to, but that's the version I've got access to, and obviously I wouldn't be opposed to somebody else making the original versions available too if they wanted, that just can't be me), so I'm going to replace the ones on the drive with the new, better ones, starting with season 4 because most of that was only available in standard definition the first time around, not the full HD (iplayer full HD, so idk how it compares to objective full hd, but it's definitely better even than the previous hd that seasons 1-3 were in)!

Just wanted to let people know what's going on, because the replacement will take time and it might be confusing if anybody goes on there and finds that there are multiple copies of certain episodes because I've uploaded the new ones and not deleted the old ones yet, or whatever.

Update: I’ve been able to upload Nowhere Boys: the Book of Shadows at last! The same link still works, so search my blog for nowhere boys and you’ll find it, and now you’ll find all 4 series/seasons plus the movie there. There still aren’t unfortunately highest quality versions of S4, but as I said that’s alright, the versions available are good. And it’s still okay to share these posts and the link.

I had to get the movie from a different source than the episodes, and although it’s still high-quality and mostly HD, there are a couple of places where the quality drops or it behaves slightly strangely (fewer since I edited it!). The subtitles are heavily edited by me, colour coded by speaker (or the main/more important characters anyway) and I used non-standard colours to do a colour per speaker, and it might be that this makes them less useful, so if this is the case please let me know and I’ll make a version without colours, or at least with only standard colours. I also don’t know if the colours will even show up, depending on what player you’re using (they only worked for me in vlc player and the embedded player in the subtitle editing programme I used).

(Redo 2 of the Nowhere Boys drive link addition to my last Nowhere Boys post as a separate post in hopes at least one version will find people because the reblog doesn’t show up, this one without the link)

If anybody in the Nowhere Boys fandom (or otherwise, it’s a good show) hasn’t seen some or all of Nowhere Boys and would like to, or has seen it but wants to have the episodes to keep, I now have Series(seasons) 1-4 uploaded to a Google Drive (and I’m working on Book of Shadows/the movie, there’s a folder for it but it’s not in it yet, it will be when I can get everything sorted with it).

No link on this version, so hopefully Tumblr won’t eat this post, but you can message me for it, or search 'nowhere boys' (or tag variants '#nowhere boys' & '#nowhereboys' or even, if none of that works, the names of most of the main characters and actors) on my blog (or click/press on those tags from this post maybe?) and hopefully one of the two versions with the link, either the reblog to my original happy vaguepost or the very similar counterpart to this one but with the link instead of this paragraph, will show up for you! Or if there’s enough demand/it would be easier to find, I could pin the post with the link, or post the link in my bio or something?

Also, as this post hopefully won’t get eaten and people will actually see it:

it’s okay to reblog this post (and the other versions) if you want/think it will find other fans (or I guess share the link without my post, I’d appreciate if you’d please let me know if you’re doing that but obviously I can’t make you).

for reasons unknown to me, the video quality of series 4 (apart from episode 1, weirdly, which is as high-quality as series 1-3) is a bit worse than the previous series even at maximum, although still very watchable. If they (by which I mean the BBC because I’ve got the main series from the iPlayer) do ever post higher-quality versions, I’ll get them and replace the current ones, but as it is, those are okay and certainly better than nothing/some other sources.

I’ve included the (English) subtitles with everything, in case anybody else wants them (just .srt files at the moment, although I think I could maybe also get different file versions, like .ttml, if that’s wanted/needed for translation/whatever other reason).

I did this for a Twitter groupchat of fans (not very active anymore but if anybody wants to join we'd be happy to welcome you), but I thought it might get to a slightly wider audience here and it wouldn't hurt me to offer it to more people.

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xxcatzladyxx · 1 year ago

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Demon Slayer Advent Calendar | Day 18 | Douma x Reader | The Christmas story

Written by me!

~~~

It was the middle of the night and you were roaming through the dark forest. You were on a mission. You were a demon slayer. You didn't have a particularly high rank, so your mission wasn't particularly difficult. You were supposed to defeat a demon that was causing trouble in a small village. As soon as he saw you, he retreated into the forest. You had been searching for him for some time. The snow and the storm he had brought with him were really getting to you. It blocked your view from time to time. Either way, it was a little more limited than usual due to the darkness. You let out an annoyed snort. Couldn't that damn demon just face you? Your nerves were already hanging by a thread. You had to stay calm so that you didn't make a fatal mistake.

You struggled through the knee-high snow with heavy steps and rested on a fallen tree trunk. You didn't care about the cold on your backside. You wanted to rest your legs, which were aching with exhaustion. You laid your katana next to you on the trunk. You looked out into the vast white. This night would take all your nerves. You were already tired of it. This demon was nowhere to be seen and you were already frozen through. Your hands felt like they had turned to ice. You could only feel them very faintly.

Suddenly you heard laughter behind you. You were on your feet again in a flash and turned around to the sound. Standing meters away from you was a man with blond hair that shone silver. The lower half of his face was covered by a fan. You couldn't really make out his eyes from this distance. Your breath caught in your throat. You were almost certainly not facing the demon you were supposed to defeat. He must have run for the hills. In front of you was one of the twelve demon moons. The rising moon number 2, Douma. That wasn't good at all. Not even the pillars were capable of defeating such a strong demon. You knew that from Kyojuro when he came back from his mission on the Mugen Train. If Tengen hadn't arrived in time, the pillar of flame would no longer have been alive. He was involved in a battle against the third rising moon, Akaza. The two pillars were also unable to defeat Akaza and could only stall him until sunrise. Akaza was finally able to escape.

The situation was much worse for you. You were neither a pillar nor did you have any support. You were on your own. "This is a dream, isn't it? Can someone pinch me?" you said to yourself in a sarcastic tone. "Oh, my Christmas treat!" said Douma. Confused, you blinked a few times. How would a demon know what Christmas is? You had blocked out the fact that he had chosen you as his meal. You were so perplexed about how a demon would know about Christmas. You couldn't imagine all the demons sitting happily around a beautifully decorated Christmas tree and celebrating Christmas together.

"You're so sweet! I bet you taste like it too," the demon continued.

"Uh, wait! I have something better than me!" you say to him frantically. You knew you didn't stand a chance against him. So you tried to distract him with something.

"And what would that be?" the blonde looks at you curiously.

"A Christmas story!" you say proudly.

"Then tell it to me, sweetie!" Your cheeks turned warm and slightly pink at his words. You admonished yourself for it. Now was not the time to blush, but to do everything you could to survive.

"All right, there was once a little boy. He went to a school for the exceptional. The pupils had extraordinary abilities, which they showed off to each other. One could levitate himself and all objects. One could breathe fire like a dragon and also control fire in every conceivable way. Then it was the little boy's turn. He was a little coy. His ability was awkward and he didn't want to show it to anyone. The boy with the fire didn't like him very much. He wanted to tease him like he did every day. The little boy wore a deep red sweater with a hood. He wore the hood on his head and pulled it very tight so that the lower half of his face was covered. The other boy pulled off his hood and everyone laughed at him. The little boy bashfully tried to cover his face with his hands. He had a white beard.In the evenings, he sat on his bed in the boys' dormitories. He nibbled on a cookie and hugged his stuffed animal. He looked sad and alone. Then the other boys came into his room and continued to laugh at him. He made a decision. He would flee from there. When the others had disappeared again, he packed his things and ran away. He walked through a forest in the depths of winter and later found a cave. In the cave, he met a young reindeer with a red nose. The two became best friends. One day, the boy discovered that the reindeer could fly. Now he also recognized his ability. He was Santa Claus and would bring special joy to mankind on a certain day. He attached the reindeer to a sleigh. He closed his eyes and thought of all the people in the world. Suddenly, he held a long piece of paper in his hands, on which was written what everyone wanted for Christmas. There was now a huge sack full of presents on the sleigh. Without wasting any more time, the boy set off with the reindeer and presented the people with their wishes. The boy fulfilled a wish of his own. The wish that he had finally found his destiny. He was no longer uncomfortable with his ability. He was proud of it. The others saw that too and no one made fun of him anymore. That was the power of Christmas. The end."

"Nice story!" Douma clapped his hands. He was standing just a few meters away from you. "Thank you!" you mumbled to yourself. "I'd love to hear more of your stories and...your voice!" the man grinned. You blushed again. "Too bad we don't have more time, my sweet! The sun will be up soon and I should be on my way. See you next time, sweetie!" He waved goodbye and was out of your sight in seconds.

You looked up to the sky. Indeed you did. The sun could be seen below on the horizon. You looked in the direction where the demon was standing. You hadn't accomplished your mission, but you had survived the night. You silently thanked your mother. You got the story from her. She always told it to you on Christmas Eve. You would never have thought that this story would be a lifesaver. Despite everything, you dejectedly made your way back to the demon slayer headquarters.

Oyakata-sama, your master, greeted you warmly. You got down on your knees and greeted him back. He saw that you were dejected and calmly asked you what had happened.

"I'm...I'm sorry, master."

"What's wrong, my child?"

"I didn't fulfill my mission. I..I encountered one of the upper moons. I knew I had no chance against him and I distracted him. I'm so finally sorry!"

"The most important thing is that nothing happened to you. You can see from Kyojuro and Tengen that even pillars don't have an easy game against the upper moons. Well done, my child. I'm proud of you. And now get some good rest."

"Thank you, Master."

~*~

You lay in your futon after a long bath and review your mission. Your thoughts must have been playing tricks on you. They showed you the figure of Douma in your mind's eye. You were fascinated by his eyes. You would never admit it publicly. But they were the most beautiful you had ever seen. Eyes like a rainbow. Even if he was a demon, he was a handsome man. You had to admit that to yourself. And you could stop him from eating you with a simple story. You laughed a little and then went to sleep.

#reader #demon slayer #x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny #advent calendar #douma #kny douma #demon slayer douma #douma x reader #upper moon 2 #2 upper moon

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 1 year ago

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Things in the background of Rise of the pink ladies that I found funny

The boy kicking his knee in the fence during the opening number in episode 1

That student who keeps skipping everywhere in the corridor

The mom during the ”girl gang” number who sits on the washing machine

The other mom in the same number who is smoking while pregnant

The theatre group having a fight with straws at Frosty’s while Hazel and Wally talk

Actually the theatre group doing stuff in the bg in general

During ”crushing me” how it seems like all of this is happening in their heads, but then it turns out they have seemingly paused time irl because suddenly people get pies in their faces, crash into each other and while Nancy asks Potato out, there’s a boy in the backround choking on a coin he accidentally swallowed after Nancy during the number switched out the coin and cherry. We later see he managed to get it out so luckily no one dies in the background lmao

The T-birds about to moon everyone again before getting chased away in the final number

Dot scolding the boys in the hallway for being in her dad’s basement at her party the night before (even if they got locked in, but she prob did not know that)

The girl opening the bathroom door and immediately closing it again

Same scene, a girl who had been hiding in the stalls and waited to come out

Two students who found a peeing doll from the home ed classroom and now squirt it in each other’s faces

During the TV airing, half the students just makes faces in the background while being filmed

Also when the pink ladies are being interviewed and Cynthia just stands in the bg like 😳

During ”A world without boys”, everyone’s faces and reactions when Cynthia jumps out and scares them

Before Cynthia comes into the mirror house, Lydia just stands there and poses at herself like a model

Just everything going on in Please Please Please, her drink turning to a vacuum cleaner, babies popping up from nowhere, etc

Every student sneaking around in Face to Face

#there’s 100 more #i love seeing just how odd everything is in the background #grease rise of the pink ladies #rise of the pink ladies

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sureabel · 2 months ago

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i. the violent bear it away - flannery o'connor // ii. "ptolemaea" - ethel cain // iii. jude 1:14-15

( charles michael davis / dog soldier wolf, 140, cis man, he/him ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that ABEL BARNES is a PASTOR ( + PODCASTER ) that works in SECTOR 10. According to the file, they’re a mutant with the power of ROUGAROU PHYSIOLOGY. That must be why they’re CHARISMATIC and VOLATILE. If you ask me, they remind me of moonlight shining on a room of crosses, a slap on the hand for stealing the cookie out of the cookie jar, the creature every child fears. They are affiliated with NOBODY.

QUICK FACTS:

full name: abel lucas barnes

date of birth: may 29th, 2035

zodiac big three: gemini sun, capricorn moon, virgo rising

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

sexual + romantic orientation: bisexual + biromantic, but celibate now!

ethnicity: 1/2 black, 1/2 filipino

nationality: usamerican

religion: christian ( raised southern baptist, current ideals (when he's preaching! not when he's entirely insane!) are baptist-adjacent )

languages spoken: english (5), french (5), filipino (4), latin (4)

enneagram: 1w2

mbti: isfj

temperament: phlegmatic-melancholic // choleric

alignment: lawful neutral // neutral evill

ability: rougarou physiology

affiliation: n/a

task: mutation breakdown

BACKSTORY

triggers: brief implication of dementia, murder, religious insanity, more murder, more religious insanity

Recounting all 140 years of Abel Barnes's existence ( at least, all 140 fictional years... because we actually do love history in this house, but... ) would be rather difficult. A man who went from a restless child in New Orleans, LA to a man leading evangelicals in Sol City... and to think, it was only one event that caused the change. But that event, the split that that event caused, did not come from nowhere.

See, Abel Barnes's grandmother, Ruthie, played a very integral role in his upbringing. His parents both picked up two jobs upon the birth of his younger brother, thus leaving Ruthie in charge of the boys. It was nothing unremarkable. But Ruthie? Oh, that old broad -- she was unremarkable!

She did not raise Abel gently -- not that she raised him poorly, but she would not let him believe that God would ignore his existence just because he only went to Church on the important holidays ( oh, she certainly tried to force him and his brother to go every Sunday with her, but she ultimately had to accept what their parents demanded... something she had learned the hard way ). The most effective way she found, however, was telling him about the Rougarou.

-> Ruthie was a superstitious woman by nature, so it only made sense that she would weaponize the iconic figure in Cajun folklore.

The Rougarou had been all but cursed after breaking his Lenten vows. Every night, he was turned into a creature -- the body of a man, the head of a wolf. He was nearly invulnerable, and he was very, very hungry. He feasted most often on misbehaving children. And he made sure that their deaths were not quick! He made sure that they suffered! Not that he discriminated, plenty of sinners were targets, but children were his favorite.

Well, this concept terrified Little Abel™... but gradually lost its allure as he aged. By the time he was a teenager, he was doing everything the Rougarou would hate to see and joking with his buddies about how 'ooh, he's gonna get me!' And his absolute favorite? The Rougarou Fest in Houma.

Nothing Ruthie weaponized was working... so she just had to pray he would learn the error of his ways.

He did mellow out as he grew, became a more respectable man. By the time he was 30, he'd married a lovely woman. By the time he was 35, he had a child of his own. By the time he was 38, Ruthie had come to live the rest of her golden years out with him.

He was careful to keep his child away from Ruthie's superstitious and religious ramblings, worse now that she was aging and her brain was slowly deteriorating.

40, however? That was when his life changed forever.

-> The meteor struck the Earth, killing his wife and infecting him.

The head of a wolf, the body of a man. All but invulnerable. Blood-thirsty. Righteous. Complete 180º.

Seeing his child wearing mismatched clothing, he killed him first. Ruthie? She begged. She told him she had spent her entire life in the pursuit of God's love. And that was the exact problem -- how very selfish! Her slaughter... well, he relished in it.

He continued the spree, though it was now focused on friends and strangers who had managed to scrape by, up until the cure was found. He did not like the cure. He did not want the cure. But it was forced upon him...

It just wasn't as strong as it could've been. While he did return to a... slightly saner version of himself, mourning the loss of his son and grandmother and his friends, feeling great guilt over the murders of strangers... something had been permanently rewired.

It was comparable to sundowning. Every morning, Abel awoke as a... fairly sane man who had simply become much more religious than he had been before the meteor ( he would say it was the miracle of surviving it that turned him to God, but that wasn't the truth ). Every night, Abel was that Rougarou, pursuing all sinners he had seen throughout the day. And, as the day went from morning to night, he became progressively worse. Afternoon? The itch was there. Evening? He had begun a podcast inspired by televangelists, one where he went upon raging tangents regarding the Lord.

The physicality matched this. Every morning, Abel awoke with glowing golden eyes and sharp canine teeth. Afternoon? His nails had sharpened, fur was beginning to grow on his hands. Evening? Every tooth was sharp, his ears were standing upon the top of his head, his face and back had become hairier. Night? He had a wolf's head with fur littering his back and torso.

Morning? He awoke with faint memories...

He traveled from settlement to settlement, not leaving until the Rougarou had rampaged throughout and killed all of the worst sinners. Sometimes, that meant destroying entire villages... other times, that meant just a few bodies in his wake.

He reached Sol City some months back. As with all other settlements, he took up his usual mantel as a baptist-adjacent Pastor. But the Rougarou? His eyes have been scanning... and god save The Bearded Lady!

TIMELINE

BORN: New Orleans, largely raised by his religious and superstitious grandmother, Ruthie.

CHILDHOOD: A good kid... mainly caused by the fear his grandmother had instilled in him -- fear of God, fear in superstitions, fear in the Rougarou.

TEENAGE YEARS: Gradually stopped believing in those superstitions and the Rougarou, became a bit more reckless, much to Ruthie's dismay.

YOUNG ADULTHOOD: Started cleaning himself up. Became more respectable.

ADULTHOOD: Had a family (a wife and a child). Ruthie moved in as she gradually became incapable of caring for herself. He kept her far from his child, not wanting the fear she had spilled out onto him to be spilled out onto his child.

DIRECTLY FOLLOWING THE METEOR: His wife was killed by the meteor, meanwhile Abel? Infected by the virus. Rougarou form, baby! Mind did a complete 180. He murdered his child for wearing mismatched clothing. He murdered Ruthie for begging and telling him she had dedicated her life to God. He murdered some of the friends who had made it out. He murdered some strangers.

EARLY POST-CURE: His mind did not entirely recover. He went from roughly agnostic to very Christian, and that was the best of it. By night, he returned to who he had been before the cure -- save, perhaps, for not seeing any nuance in any situation.

POST-CURE: Traveled from settlement to settlement. Delivered sermons in the morning, ranted on his evangelist podcast in the evening, rampaged against all the sinners at night. He would move on only when all of the worst sinners had been wiped out.

HEADCANONS

Every time I imagine this guy talking, I just hear Rodney Barnes's voice. (Totally used the same last name.) (I did not learn about the Rougarou from him, but he does have an episode on it!)

The faint memories he has in the morning typically include nothing but flashes of where he had been. It's the blood on his mouth that tells him he'd done the unthinkable.

-> Of course, he does not always kill in Rougarou form. Sometimes he just attacks! And, y'know, there are even sometimes where all he does is scout out future targets.

more tbd!

CONNECTION IDEAS

Parishioners. When he's not going completely insane, he preaches Baptist-adjacent ideals. A lot lighter on the judgment and hatred, though! We don't need that in a safe space and who really wants to write that?

Friends by day. Besides being a bit fanatic, Abel's... fine in the morning. Tolerable in the afternoon, too.

Enemies by night. I mean... without even thinking about it, he hates everyone who works at The Bearded Lady, as already shared with Doc (though I still need to get back to more messages!). But there are so many sinners in this RP! If Heaven and Hell are real, as Abel believes, I'm pretty sure more characters in this RP would go right to Hell than the ones who'd go to Heaven <3

ElTangoDeRoxanne.mp3. But moooommmm, lust and envy are sins!

idk more to come probs

#*me chanting* ROUGAROU! ROUGAROU! ROUGAROU!

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 1 year ago

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Nothing and Everything - Part 3

Summary: Certain times of the year are harder than others. This is the first year where they have all been present to face the memories of all the trauma. How can they come together when they each have their own traumas to face?

Pairings: Gen fic (they love Layla and she loves them)

Warnings: Heavy dissociation, Mentions of child abuse, some mentions of violence, Depression, mentions of self harm, PTSD.

Word Count: 3394

Part Three: Marc is haunted by the things he never had. Naturally his first inclination is to start a fight or two or three. Layla confronts Jake about his lies.

Previous Chapter HERE

“It’s going to be hot and muggy through the first half of the week. Get out there and enjoy that sunshine while we have it folks because on Thursday it’s going to shift as we say our first goodbye to summer and the first storm rolls in.” The weatherman smiled and turned to bring up the weather map with numbers and happy images positioned all across it.

Marc turned off the television and went to the window. He stared up at the perfect blue sky for a moment.

It was easy to get lost in that blue. Expansive and welcoming.

How many times had he gotten lost in the sky?

Lounging like white fluffy clouds with nowhere to be. Gazing at a sunset filled with more colors than he thought possible. Feeling the crackle of energy in the air as dark clouds rolled overhead to match pace with the wind. Looking at the stars through his telescope and dreaming of being out there with them.

The deep cloudless sky of the middle east. Hot and sucking every ounce of moisture out of his very being to leave him empty.

The black night sky that left him exposed and vulnerable.

And the moon.

Calling and always wanting more from him. How it followed him as he traveled across the world. The same moon. The same sky.

A storm is coming.

He could feel it in his bones. He always felt it. That first storm of the hot summer months. Charged from the heat of the day and crashing into the cold air that tried so hard to change the season before it was ready.

Each time he felt the energy build, his anxiety would rise with it. Responsibility and punishment covering his heart. He was supposed to take care of them.

These end of summer days that brought out the family BBQs and picnics. Happy families making the most of the rare sun filled months and long days that stretched on forever and ever. He could feel the ticking clock. Time running out as they scrambled to laugh and play and do nothing.

How many days had he wasted? Sprawled out on the couch moaning about how bored he was as he enjoyed and hated doing nothing.

“Come play with me!” A younger boy that didn’t yet know that his summer was limited. That didn’t yet know that time was ticking towards nothing.

“I don’t want to play with you! I hate that game and you cheat!”

It wasn’t cheating if he didn’t understand the rules, but Marc never bothered to explain them. Everyone knew the rules. It wasn’t his fault that some people just weren’t born knowing them.

Rules about snack time. Rules about how loud he could be. Rules about playing with his brother or taking care of him. Parents were busy. His father had to study and his mother had work to do.

Tears fell down the rounded cheeks and Marc was glad. Glad for the storm. His parents would be angry with him. He could be mean too. Just for a moment. He could leave out his brother like he was left out. Left out of everything.

Regret filled him as the lower lip trembled. He didn’t want to hurt his brother. It wasn’t his fault.

Rolling off the couch he pointed to the sky. “Look! Rain! Want to go cool off?”

“Mom says we shouldn’t play in the rain. We could get sick.” The tears were gone, forgotten as quickly as they had come.

“It’s so hot!” A reasonable counter argument and the prospect of jumping in puddles was too much to resist.

In his memory, Marc could hear the splashing and laughter. He could see the gray clouds as they danced and competed to see who could get the biggest splash.

The rain was cold but the air was still so hot. He could hear the thunder approaching and he dared the storm to ruin his fun.

Facing the storm, he missed the danger from behind as his mother’s tight grip caught his arm.

“What are you doing? Get inside before you get sick! Get cleaned up! You’ll drip all over the rug!”

Guilt. He was in trouble, but he knew nothing would come of it other than a stern lecture about health and responsibility from his father.

He didn’t care about that. He was lectured all the time.

He cared about the fact that Randall was carried inside in warm arms. That Randall was wrapped up in a fluffy towel and given a warm bubble bath while Marc was left alone and shivering in the hall.

He had to wait for his warm bath. A bath taken alone without toys. Timed with a sharp knock to get out and clean up his room.

He watched as Randall was given lunch first. His favorite and Marc’s least favorite.

Marc didn’t know the words for how he felt then. Left out and forgotten and always second thought of. It wasn’t Randall’s fault. Randall was perfect. It was Marc who was the disappointment.

Marc with his head in the sky.

The sky that would betray him. The sky that took his brother. The sky that took him. That brought the moon.

Now he watched over Steven and reminded himself over and over again: Protect him.

Something was moving just outside of his field of vision and when a hand touched his shoulder it was everything he could do not to spin around and fight off the sudden attack.

Fists clenched, he looked sharply at the form until familiar curls brought him back. Back to the present where he was inside in London in Steven’s flat with Layla.

Her hand lingered and he didn’t miss the way she noticed his balled up fists. He took a breath and slowly relaxed them till they were just hands again with nothing to do.

She raised a single eyebrow and he shook his head ever so slightly.

It wasn’t a flashback. He was fine. She was safe. He was safe.

Her lips turned into a thin line and he could feel that there was something she wanted to say. Something that she didn’t think she should. Perhaps she felt him too fragile? Too emotional? Perhaps it would hurt him and be the punishment he needed for failing her in some way.

“What?” He frowned at her and felt the way his tension was balling up in his forehead.

“Nothing.” She turned away. “Lunch is ready. I got us something from the new Thai place down the street. Hope you don’t mind.”

He watched her for a moment, debating on chasing the argument. He could feel the fight lingering between them like the upcoming storm. He didn’t know what she was angry about, but he needed it. He needed her attention.

They had called him attention seeking in early school. Acting out. Getting into trouble to make his teacher and parents look at him. And perhaps they were right. When else would they look at him?

“I’m not hungry.” He gruffed, knowing that this was a key trigger for her. Knowing that she knew he hadn’t eaten yet today.

She looked up at him from across the table where she had laid out the food. The smell reached him and his stomach pulled painfully in protest.

He stared back at her, challenging.

She clenched her jaw and set a bowl of Tom Kha down sharply. A flash of anger worked across her face and he suddenly had visions of her throwing it across the room.

Instead, she sat down and pulled out her own box of sweet thai basil chicken.

His stomach rumbled and he crossed his arms, hoping she didn’t hear it.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at me while I eat?” She picked up her fork and loaded it with a bite that was far too large but still somehow managed to fit it into her mouth as she purposefully stared him down while chewing.

She wasn’t taking the bait.

Marc shifted and moved to grab his favorite coat. He could go outside. Away from the delicious smell and temptation. What better way to stab the knife in deeper than to just leave? Make her hate him. Make her cry. Make her-

He stumbled as his legs refused to move. Panic clenched his fists as he felt the push back.

Jake.

Jake was not going to let him leave. Not without a fight.

Good thing Marc wanted a fight.

And then the yelling started.

Steven fronted so hard and fast that he had to take a step back as he looked around, quickly taking in where he was and what was going on.

“Oh bugger.” His eyes landed on Layla, who was beet red in the face and looked pissed.

Steven winced, then winced again as suddenly the silence was broken inside. “Oh hell.” Steven tried to hide how uncomfortable he was as he listened to Marc and Jake start to yell at one another.

Layla slid the bowl of soup across to him. “It’s coconut milk and tofu. I normally get chicken but I had a feeling Marc wasn’t going to be eating.” She sounded angry.

“Thanks, Love.” Steven gingerly found his spoon and started to eat. “Uh… Everything alright?”

Everything was absolutely not alright. The yelling was getting louder and things were being said that were going to sting later.

“Just a little disagreement.” She muttered as she ate another bite, this one much smaller than the first one had been.

“Uh huh.” Steven agreed. “Yeah… Uh… I gathered.”

Please stop.

He pleaded with them.

The mood shifted and suddenly Marc was yelling at him. It made no sense. Something about attention and wasting his time.

Then Marc jabbed about work and Jake came to his defense.

Steven put his face in his hands for a moment as he tried to breath through the argument. Through the headache.

STOP. STOP STOP STOP STOP.

It was all Steven could do to keep from yelling out loud as he tried to drown them out.

“Marc’s in a mood, isn’t he?” Layla probed. “Trying to start fights. You can tell him that I’m not doing it. I’m not going to be used like that. I’m not here to validate his self-destructive habits.”

Steven held up a hand to try to get her to stop for a moment as he tried to break it up.

He needed Jake to stop yelling. He needed Marc to stop yelling. He needed Layla to stop being angry. He just needed it all to stop.

SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU! I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS!

Silence fell and he couldn’t tell if it was because they had decided to fall back or if he had somehow put up some sort of barrier to block them out.

He did know that he was trembling slightly and the room suddenly felt very loud. Layla was looking at him with a shocked look on her face, pale and wide eyed.

“Oh hell…” Steven glanced around as if he might be able to fix it. “Did…Did I say that outloud?”

She nodded, still surprised.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean you, love. I… I was talking to them. They were being loud and..And mean!” He fumbled with his napkin and looked down in shame.

She made a sound that made him look up in alarm, terrified he might see her crying.

Instead she was laughing, a hand over her mouth as she struggled not to choke on her food.

She grabbed a drink of water then laughed harder. “Oh Steven…” She wiped a tear from an eye and looked at him with a smile. “Sometimes I forget that it isn’t fair. Not to me or you or even them.”

She reached across the table and took his hand, letting him drop the napkin before he could shred it.��

He looked at their hands then up at her. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

Layla shook her head. “I liked it. I bet it shut them up, too, didn’t it?”

Steven paused then nodded. “Yeah.”

She smirked. “Good. They need a reminder now and then about not just tossing you into things to patch up their problems.” She sighed and patted his hand. “Me too, honestly. I’m sorry I tried to make you the messenger. It’s a shit position to be in.”

Steven smiled a little and relaxed. “I honestly don’t know what they were fighting about. It was pretty nasty, though.”

“He does that. Marc will fight over the color of the sky if given the chance.” Layla let his hands go and pointed to his soup. “Eat. I can hear your stomach from over here.”

Steven looked at the soup gratefully and nodded. “It smells amazing.”

They ate in comfortable silence, though Steven kept one eye on the inside, wondering what the damage was going to be.

–

She waited. You better believe she waited. She knew it was only a matter of time before he’d show his face.

She spent the day with Steven, letting him cuddle into her while he read and occasionally listening to him info dump about what he had just read.

Marc didn’t show up at all. She knew he wouldn't. Even if he had risen to the surface to take a peak, he wouldn’t have lingered long enough for her to catch him. He may have wanted a fight, but this was no longer a fight he wanted to be a part of.

Instead, she waited for another prey. This one could be tricky if he didn’t want to get caught. Elusive and often very very good at slipping away unnoticed.

But she knew him now. She knew him quite well, though not as well as she would have liked. She knew his mannerisms and his ticks that gave him away.

So when ‘Steven’ suddenly put his book down and adjusted his posture, she turned to him with narrowed eyes.

“Jake Lockley, how long are you going to sit there pretending to read before you speak to me?” She crossed her arms and gave him a look.

Jake held her gaze for a moment. He was more stubborn than Marc and lacked any form of self awareness that often hindered Steven when it came to confrontations. When Jake found himself with a challenge, he tended to meet it directly with incredible focus.

He had two exceptions to this rule that defied his ability to reason and found no intimidation in his bluntness: Steven and Layla.

Jake sighed so heavily that Layla thought he was trying to stall for time. “I would have gone longer but our back can only take so much.”

She smiled a bit at that, softening a little. “How are you, Jake?”

He thought the question over then looked Layla up and down.

“I get the feeling that you are irritated with me.” He easily avoided the question.

“Steven had a meltdown the other day. You didn’t tell me how upset he was when we had dinner. I would have waited up for him. I could have done something to comfort him or been there for him. You said he was fine.” She was more than a little irritated.

Jake winced and looked away. “I knew he was upset. I thought he was just reacting to the interview. I didn’t think he was going to react like that.”

She watched him get up and start to make adjustments, rolling up his sleeves and pushing his hair back. Indicators that perhaps he intended to stick around for a bit.

“And what happened with Marc?”

Jake went to the kitchen and started to make coffee. “I stopped him from walking out.”

“Where was he going?” Layla watched him.

“I don’t know. Away.” Jake sounded irritated. “He intended to start a fight with you and I stopped it.”

“Steven said you started a fight with him. It doesn’t sound like any of you are doing well. Should I be worried?” She didn’t want to pry. She didn’t want to push him at all, but she didn’t like how much Jake seemed to be trying to either keep from her or be in denial.

“We had a disagreement. Marc wanted a fight and we had one.” Jake started the coffee maker and leaned against the counter. “It’s been a stressful week. I already told you that Marc was going to be having a rough season. We’re taking care of it.”

“Jake, it’s Tuesday. The week isn’t even halfway through. I’m worried.”

“Hermosa.” His pet name for her that he tended to use when he was feeling frustrated. “It’s just a difficult time.”

“Why is it so difficult? What’s triggering all this?” The coffee maker sputtered and at last started to fill the pot. It was approaching night and he was making a full pot.

She got up and moved to the kitchen.

Jake stared at the pot, watching the coffee drizzle slowly. He seemed to be contemplating on if he should answer her or how much to say.

She waited, trying not to seem angry, suspicious, or impatient. A part of her was worried that he would lie. What was he keeping from her? Did he think she couldn’t help? That she didn’t need to know?

It hurt her feelings a little that he would hesitate at all. He was supposed to be her gossip buddy. He was supposed to trust her.

“Roro’s birthday is coming. This Saturday.” Jake rubbed his temples. “He died at the end of summer just before school started again. It didn’t used to be an issue. It’s been long enough that sometimes the memories are hard and the nightmares come, but it didn’t used to be this bad. Not since we were little.”

Layla looked down. Marc had told her about his brother. She hadn’t gotten the full story until after everything in Egypt and Steven had been the one to mostly tell her.

Jake took a slow breath then pulled his thermos down from the cabinet. “Mom died two years ago next Monday. This is the first year that Steven knows about it. About both of them. I think we’re having some sort of emotional bleed over now that Steven knows. It’s making it seem worse.”

“Jake… What about you? Are you okay?” Did Jake think that he was above all this pain? Did he think he could stop the other two from feeling it?

Jake snapped his thermos closed. “I couldn’t care less about that woman. As for Roro… I never knew him. I am sorry that we had a brother and that he isn’t here, but… It’s not my pain.”

And yet Jake still called him Roro, not Randall like Steven did. Was this another lie?

Layla looked at his thermos. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I have work.” He frowned and set his jaw in the familiar strong and sharp lines.

“Right now? You need to change. You haven’t even had dinner yet.” She protested.

“I have a change of clothes in the car. I’ll pick up something at the diner.” He grabbed his cap from a hook by the wall and fished in a drawer for his keys. “I really need to go. I’m sorry about the break downs. I wish you hadn’t of had to see that. I’ll do better, okay? I’m very sorry.”

He tipped his hat forward then quickly rushed out the door before she could protest further.

Layla stared after him for a moment then put her face in her hands and let out a very strained aggravated sigh that tapered into a strangled yell.

“All three of them. How did all three of them get to be so dense?” She tossed her hands into the air.

They were not alright. Anyone could see that none of them had this and this was quickly getting to be more than she could take care of.

Moving to dig through Marc’s junk drawer, she shuffled through spare change, a utility knife, a whole lot of random tools, batteries, and various keys before she pulled out his old burner phone.

Flipping it open, she scrolled through his short list of contacts then dialed. An old familiar voice picked up after just two rings.

“Allô?”

Part 4 HERE

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight fic #Marc Spector #Jake Lockley #Steven Grant #Layla El Faouly #Two in a day #sometimes I get shit done #Seriously that sky is so easy to get lost in #Layla calling for backup

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