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justanothermemestrider · 26 days ago

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Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 2

Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Part two baby let's goooooooooo

Okay first up, I wanna thank every single person who has liked, reblogged, commented on and read part one (if you didn't catch it, you can read it here :)) . I love and appreciate every single one of you. Your support, comments and tags are literally food for my soul. So thank you ^^

Second, this fic makes reference to @beckyninja 's Titus x reader fic series. Specifically, it references Titus' relationship with the reader character "little healer." I really wanted to reference them bc they were such a big inspiration for me and @beckyninja is such an awesome writer and creator. If you wanna know more, go check out their fics. They're superbly written, and as mentioned above, they are among the inspo for this series. So go read them! :D

Third, standard warnings and notes: this part is sfw, but has violence, angst and general 40kness. Also unedited so apologies for any spelling and grammar errors (I'm sure there are some lol)

As always, thank you for reading and please enjoy :)

Between the towering grid of criss-crossing spires, the night sky twinkled at Ellicent. It was only a sliver- if she held out her hand, she could cover it entirely with her palm. But for a girl whose life until how had been spent at the very bottom of the Underhive's deepest fissures, it was like looking through a planetary telescope.

Stars of every colour shone against the deep blue back drop. It might just be her imagination, but Ellicent could've sworn it they were winking at her. Like they knew how pretty they were, and were only too happy to show off of her.

A smile touched Ellicent's lips. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly content.

"I thought I might find you up here."

She turned in her seat. On her left, not far from where the chimney sat, a warm, round face framed with silver hair appeared over the edge of the roof. Ellicent's smile broadened a little more. "You know me well," she said.

Climbing off the ladder and onto the roof, Gadriel carefully made his way over to her Although they were about the same age, were she was lithe like a cat, he built like an ox. Meant with every step he took, the iron sheet that made up the roof shook and rattled. He lowered himself down beside her, then followed her gaze upward.

"Pretty, right?" Ellicent said.

"Uh huh. If only there weren't so many hive spires in the way."

Smirking, Ellicent leaned into his shoulder. Gadriel lifted his arm to make room for her, then draped it around her. Ellicent had to resist the urge to sigh- after sitting outside in the cold for so long, the warmth of his body against hers was heavenly.

"If you join the Angels, you'll get to see all of it," she said.

"You mean when."

"Sorry. When."

Both of their tones are humourous, but underneath is an edge. An unspoken tension wedged between them, despite how close they are now.

"I thought you'd be too old now, anyway," Ellicent said. "Don't they only take young boys?"

"18 cycles is the official cut off," Gadriel said. "I've still got one more left to make it."

Eliicent nodded, but said nothing. Her silence, however, spoke for her.

Gadriel's arm around her tightened. Gently, he guided her head into the crook of his neck. "Ellie. I-"

"I know. It's the best way to get out of here. To get us out of here." She shook her head slightly. "But it's not the only way. And it's definitely the most dangerous."

"It's only dangerous for me," Gadriel said. "For you and Mum, it's the safest."

Ellicent swallowed the lump that was forming in the back of her throat. An old familiar grief rose up within her heart. With it, it brought pictures of her father.

"Ellie?" Gadriel asked. She felt the warm kiss of his forehead touching her crown. "Will you say something?"

Gazing up at him, Ellicent gave him a brief peck on the lips. "We've still got one cycle," she said. "We'll figure something else out by then."

"And if we don't?"

"We will," Ellicent said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It wasn't him.

Over and over, her head tells her the same thing. With every turn of her screwdriver. With every jolt of pain that shoots through her shoulder from her damaged cybernetic arm.

It wasn't him.

"But it was," Ellicent says aloud. "It was. He said my name. I heard his voice. It was him."

Why did he never come back, then?

Why did he leave you?

The screwdriver slips from her hand and clatters to the floor. Cursing, she stoops down to pick it up. "I... I don't know," she hisses at herself. "Maybe he- maybe he was too busy. Or thought I was already dead."

Or maybe he forgot about you.

Tears sting Ellicent's eyes. It's all she can do to keep herself from crying out loud.

"It wasn't him," she mutters. "It can't have been."

The snap of an opening door makes her look up.

"Ellicent! What the hell was that?"

Ellicent winces away from the voice. It grates her like a razor across her ear, spawns a knot of anxiety deep within her gut. "I'm sorry, sir," she says. "I-"

He punches her in the face. Hard enough to break the skin of her brow. Ellicent tumbles out of her chair, breaking her fall with her still-damaged cybernetic. The arm's metal hisses like a snake who's been stood on.

"How many Space Marines have you killed for me already, huh?"

Ellicent touches her finger to her brow. She stifles another wince.

"How many?!" Severus bellows.

Ellicent swallows bile and blood. "Ten," she murmurs.

"That's right. Ten." Grasping her by the pony tail, Severus hails her to her feet. His own bionic arm whines with the effort. "So tell me, " he spits. "Why the fuck was some trio of damned blue boy-scouts able to best you?"

Ellicent avoids his eye. He hates it when she looks at him. Doing so now would only earn her another punch. "I'm sorry," she says again, even meeker than before.

She can feel Severus' glare boring through her skull. Her scalp is screaming, but she bites her lip against the pain. Show no resistance. Only subservience. Even if you hate it, it is the only way to survive.

With a wordless snarl, Severus throws her to the ground. "Worthless wretch. I invest everything in building you, and you give me nothing in return."

Ellicent sneaks a glance up at him. Running his hand through his long, greasy hair, he wears an exhausted, frustrated scowl. "The Drukhari won't forgive us for this," he says, more to himself than to her. "They'll want to cut ties. Won't wanna risk having the Sons of Guilliman looking their way."

He carries on like this for several minutes. Completely ignoring Ellicent, as if she'd never been in the room in the first place. Ellicent pushes herself up to her knees, but doesn't risk trying to rise. Even without the threat of Severus' wrath, however, she doubts she could stand anyway. Her face aches from the punch, and her head is spinning.

It wasn't him, her mind tells her. Over and over again.

Her heart, however, is not so easily silenced.

But what if it was?

* * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"A Valkyrie is on it's way for Chairon," Titus reports. "Despite appearances, the Apothecary believes he will likely survive."

Gadriel looks up from his hands. For the last hour, he's done nothing but stare at them in silence. He looks past Titus to where their brother lies prone. When the gas charge had detonated, Chairon had caught a piece of debris to the side of the head. It had struck with enough force to sever his helm, break his skin and crack his skull. A sickening mixture of emotions broil within Gadriel at the sight of his brother like this. At the knowledge of who had done it to him.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise."

"Sergeant?"

Gadriel starts. "Forgive me," he says. "That is- that is a relief. Thank the Emperor, indeed."

Titus' expressionless helm stares at Gadriel for several long moments. Gadriel has to stifle the urge to squirm. The lieutenant briefly looks around; after the attack, the fireteam had retreated into a nearby complex, smashing down the windows and taking cover within its walls. Since then, the area has been silent. The only evidence of there ever being a fireifght are the odd tangle of black smoke still spiralling in the air. Satisfied that they are still secure, Titus looks back at Gadriel.

Then, he removes his helm.

The seals around his throat hiss as Titus breaks them, lifting off the helmet before tucking it under his arm. His face is squarer than Gadriel's, with a firmer jaw and a blunt nose. His hair is cropped close to his skull and the pair of silver studs above his right brow indicating his century-long career as an Ultramarine- gleam in the low, polluted light. His is a fierce visage to look upon, there's not doubt about that. But despite that, when he looks at Gadriel now, the only thing fierce about him is the intensity of his worry.

"Forgive me for saying this, brother. But you appear to be distracted. Unsettled, even."

Gadriel's instinct is to lower his gaze. To try and brush the lieutenant off with a snide remark or flat out refusal. Indeed, if they had been having this conversation back on Kadaku, that might have been exactly what he would have done. But much has happened since then. Many things, both good and bad, have passed between him and Titus. As such, the lieutenant has become one of his closest friends.

If anyone might understand, it will be him.

Taking a breath, Gadriel sighs it out through his nose. Removing his own helmet, he sits upon a nearby ledge and sets it on his lap. "That woman," he starts. "I... I know her."

"You've encountered her before?"

Gadriel covers his blush with one hand, feigning the need to rub his nose. "That's one way of putting it."

Titus eyes him carefully. Despite his best efforts, Gadriel can feel himself wilting under the scrutinisation. Titus clasps his helmet to his hip, then walks up to Gadriel to sit beside him. He's leaning forwards elbows braced on his knees. Something about the posture gives Gadriel a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Is she a former ally?" Titus asks quietly.

Gadriel chews his cheek. Shakes his head.

"An enemy, then?"

"No," Gadriel says sharply. "No, she- she was the first one."

"An ally?"

The word makes him wince. "Yes. But she was..." Throne, how do I even describe it? "She was more than that. A lot of more."

"How much more?"

Gadriel bites his cheek. His tongue feels like ash in his mouth. "We were... together. Before I joined the Ultramarines."

Titus nods thoughtfully. "I see."

A beat of silence passed between them. Titus is the one to break it. "Tell me, how long have you served for?"

"As of this cycle? Fifty three years."

Tirus nods again. "That's a long time. Particularly in the eyes of a baseline. Much could have changed."

The comment is innocent enough, and in no way untrue. Even so, Gadriel feels his hackles rise. "What are you saying? "

"She tried to kill us, Gadriel. She raised a weapon against the Emperor's Angels. And even if she hadn't, I know you saw the same as I: the particle beams, the necronian cybernetics. That alone is-"

"It's not as simple as that," Gadriel says. He looks down at his hands. "It can't be."

His hands become fists. For the first time this entire interaction, Gadriel looks Titus right in the eye. "I need to talk to her."

"Sergeant-"

"No, listen to me. Ellie would never do this. Never. Severus must be coercing her or have her enslaved."

"Gadriel-"

"She could've killed me back there, at the warehouse. She had her blade at my throat. But she didn't. When she heard me speak, she stopped. She recognised me, Titus. She said my damn name!"

"Gadriel, enough!"

Titus' voice snaps like a whip, cutting Gadriel off mid-breath. The corners of his eyes have hardened slightly, and though he still appear sympathetic, Gadriel can feel exasperation bubbling beneath it. "I understand your frustration, brother. If she were truly falsely accused, you know I would take your side. But we both saw her wielding alien technology. We both saw her bomb wound Chairon and her blade almost kill you." His voice softens. "Whoever she was to you does not change that. It can't."

Gadriel bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to make it bleed. The taste of his own blood is sharp on his tongue. Sharper still is the invisible blade scything away at his heart.

But what if it's all my fault? He wants to say. What if I was reason for whatever terrible thing that brought her here, and if I didn't remedy it, I could not bear to live with myself.

Gadriel says no such thing, however. If he did, all he would get from Titus is more stern sympathy.

That isn't to say that Gadriel remains silent, however. In fact, he's already got his next argument prepared, has for a while. He doesn't know if it will work, and the only thing he does knkw is that, initially at least, it will do nothing but outrage Titus. But Gadriel has no other ideas. He's desperate. And he running out of the time.

"What if it had been your little healer?"

Titus' entire body goes rigid. "What?"

Gadriel clenches his jaw. Both of his hearts pound as if he'd just stepped into a firefight. But he keeps talking. "She was accused of heresy, wasn't she? Her own people tried to kill her. But you saved her."

Titus' nostrils flare as he exhales sharply through his nose. "What relevance does that have here?"

"What relevance?" Gadriel demands. "It is the same thing!"

"My healer was falsely accused."

"You didn't know that when you saved her, though, did you?"

With a crash of ceramite on concrete, Titus is on his feet. "Speak your mind, Sergeant," he growls. "But I warn you; you are on thin ice."

Gadriel steadies his pulses with a slow, deep breath. Then, joining Titus on his feet, he meets the lieutenant's gaze. "If this was your healer," he says. "You would not hesitate in seeking her out. Even if she had attacked us- even if she'd succeeded in killing Chairon and I- you would go to her. You'd want to help her. Or, at the very least, try and talk to her. I know you would, and I know that you know it too, even if you won't admit it. So why won't you allow me to do the same?"

Titus' jaw feathers with tension. Gadriel can practically hear the storm raging behind his eyes. He imagines Titus can see something similar happening behind his own eyes, too. "You know the Codex would absolutely abhor such an action," the lieutenant says quietly.

"I do," Gadriel says. "But the codex is not always right. You taught me that."

For a long time, Titus says nothing. He just stares at Gadriel. Either searching for something within the sergeant's expression or mulling over his own thoughts. Gadriel's hearts roar in his ears. The cut he'd chewed into the side of his cheek has now become an open wound. But he doesn't dare interrupt the Titus' thoughts. Right now, the lieutenant is Gadriel's only hope. By extension, that makes him Ellie's only hope.

Finally, after what feels like a century, Titus opens his mouth. "You're right," he says. "Absolutely, you are right. And as your friend, I wish I could stand by you. But I am not merely your friend, Gadriel. I am also a servant of the Emperor, and I am also your commanding officer." He trails off, but Gadriel can hear what goes unspoken. It makes his throat close over, fills his stomach with rocks. "Titus," he whispers. "Please-"

"I'm sorry, Sergeant. But there is nothing I can do."

Gadriel opens his mouth to argue, but as the first curse word leaves his mouth, the bang of a firearm makes both Astartes turn. Gadriel scoops up his helmet and makes his way over to the window. Above the city skyline, piercing the dying daylight like a sword through armoured plating, a single, scarlet light rises into the sky.

"Is that a flare?" Titus says from Gadriel's side.

Gadriel swallows thickly. There's no way... No way she still has it.

"Yes," he replies.

"But there are no other Imperial forces here."

"It's not Imperial," Gadriel mutters.

Titus looks at the sergeant, confused. It doesn't take long, though, for the pieces to fall into place. "Gadriel-"

But Gadriel is already gone. Slamming his helmet back over his head, locking its objective marker onto the location of the flare, no other thought, feeling or concern in his mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Feel like I'm finally cooking now XD part 3 is about to be the scene that I dreamed up that made me wanna write this story in the first place so I am SO HYPED to write it :D

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed <3

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi

#warhammer 40k #space marines #adeptus astartes #ultramarines #demetrian titus #gadriel #sergeant gadriel

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sepia-vance · 1 month ago

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Look alive bitches!

My name is Emmeline Vance, you can call me Emmy, Em, or my surname, Vance. I really don't care I am in Ravenclaw

Chosen by Eleos, a small goddess, but goddess of mercy, pity and compassion 17.

Im a she/her I have a business! I do homework and assignments for a price, also I can be a therapist but whatever

Chaser on the Ravenclaw Quiddich team! ༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ Likes : books ~ winning ~ museums ~ cats ~ gardening ~ potions ~ stars!

Dislikes : worms ~ sailing/the ocean ~ milk ~ the color red (idk why, I just hate it)

a fellow ravenclaw : @dreaming-and-drugs My bestie for lifee: @hexes-and-hestia

A nice guy and really competitive: @welltobefrank A Misty friend! : @shrineoftheprophetess A close friend of mine : @pete-the-thief

A Gryffindor with style: @blackrosedeity

Hyper bitch (just kidding): @j-potteringaround

Frank's gf: @al1-f0rtescue Sirius' boyfriend: @swearwolf-lupin

Nice when he wants to be: @a-mist-covered-star

Rosie: @evanofthedead Panda! : @pandoras-box-of-roses Mum's friend's son : @barty-not-barry-official

I like her style: @littlelambismybestie She's pretty! : @elegance-and-romance

Honestly terrifying : @psychoblack I will not, in fact, trust her with anything : @followthegossip I saw her and was like, she's actually rlly pretty! (platonic): @flower-of-athens A new friend Cassie!: @0-all-is-fair-in-love-and-war-0

Another hyper bitch (not sure if I'm kidding): @motherfuckin-marls

I'll add more people later!

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆

Ooc : hihi. Main is @butyoureastarr

To join contact @moonandstarshangoutinbars or @moonyswarmsweaters

#emmeline vance #intro post #introduction #blog intro #roleplay #rp blog #marauders #the marauders map #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #marauders rp #the marauders #marauders fandom #the marauders fandom #marauders era rp #marauders roleplay #dead gay myths rp

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year ago

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Sealed, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of fighting, underage drinking, dubcon/noncon relationship.

Part 2 of 3.

Part 1, Signed

Part 3, Delivered

“My god, you’ve grown so much, (Y/N),” your future mother-in-law cooed as she pulled you into a hug. You gave Mrs. Rogers a small, albeit forced smile as you pulled away and she got another look at you. She reached out and stroked your cheek, “my god, I remember when you were just a little girl. Barely knee high and going at it with Stevie like cats and dogs. Now look at you! You look like a refined young woman…”

“Yeah…it has been a while…”

“Been a while,” she giggled, pulling away from you, “been a while might have been a holiday or two…I haven’t seen you since your mother squirreled you and your sisters away from sight when you hit the end of fourth grade.”

You gave another forced smile, “yeah…I’m sorry. I-I would have called…or written, but I-I didn’t have anyone’s numbers memorized. A-and, well…mum thought it was best that I focus on school. She always said a good education helps all.”

“It’s okay sweetie,” she smiled softly, “we understand…Steve’s sister just got married to that Parker boy…sweetest little couple you’ve ever seen…you’ll see them at the reception at the end of the week. They’re still finishing their honeymoon.”

Your eyes widened, “oh no…I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interr-“

“Oh, you’re not interrupting anything,” she laughed, “we insisted on Peter taking her on a nice little honeymoon to one of our villas in Milan. They get back from there in about a day or so, so they’ll have plenty of time to unwind before your nuptials…”

“Yeah…”

“Sarah…maybe we let (Y/N) get reacquainted with everyone…I don’t believe she’s gotten to say hello to her father yet…have you dear?”

“Oh…uhm no,” you admitted sadly, the smallest of frowns crossing your lips, “I-I haven’t seen daddy yet.”

“He’s in his office,” she smiled as she looped her arm through Mrs. Rogers, “go say hello to him and pull him from whatever he’s doing in there. He should be out here…enjoying the party. It is your homecoming after all…and soon you’ll be a Rogers and not a Barnes. All of you should be mingling…it’s your graduation and engagement party after all…”

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t do two separate parties,” Mrs. Rogers sighed as she gave you a soft look, “the girl should be celebrating all of her accomplishments…a party for graduating high school, and a party for becoming officially engaged to my Stevie. I keep telling you Winnifred this all feels too cluttered…you should have let me plan at least one of the parties…allow me to showcase our home...”

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Rogers,” you offered, giving your mom an out as you put a hand on her arm, “I’m perfectly fine with just the one party. Two parties so close to the wedding would have made it seem forced, wouldn’t it?”

She gave you a firm smile, “perhaps you’re right, sweetheart…you know, you always were a wise one, well before your time. And how many times do I have to remind you, it’s mom…you’re practically our daughter as it is, (Y/N). Lord knows Stevie’s been in love with you since the two of you were little…call me mom, sweetie…”

“Okay…mom…”

She chirped excitedly to your mother, cooing at how you calling her mom as well felt ‘all too right.’

Meanwhile, you rolled your eyes as you started back to the house, promising both mob wives that you would go to find your father, while ignoring the rest of the party goers and well-wishers.

You barely had an idea on who many of them were, only knowing that they were associated with one of the five families, and here to ‘strengthen ties.’

It sickened you to your stomach.

Everything was done to ‘strengthen ties,’ while they bickered behind closed doors and made stomach-turning deals. All of them wearing faux masks of happiness to see one another, when they would all too quickly stab one another in the back for a chance on a higher rung. But that was the nature of the beast. One that you’d become all too accustomed to.

You were glad when your parents sent you off to finishing school back in London. You didn’t have to deal with anyone and could just blend in without having to be a Barnes, or the future Mrs. Rogers.

“Champagne, miss?”

You smiled politely, holding a glass in each hand. When he gave you a look, you shrugged, “going to take one to my fiancé…or father. Whomever I can find first I suppose.”

He gave a nod, one that said that he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question it as he turned on his heel and went back to the main part of the party. When he was out of sight, you downed the first. Feeling the crisp, dry bite of the champagne, you rounded the corner and took the other, as though it was a shot yet again.

A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth from the alcohol filled your belly. You placed the two empty glasses along a desk sitting in the entryway.

Sighing, you noticed that your father’s study door was closed.

It was always business with him.

But stepping forward you could hear voices behind the heavy wooden door. You frowned when you couldn’t recognize the one that was speaking, nor make out any words that he’d been saying. But a roar of laughter made you pause from knocking.

You recognized the melodic laugh of your brother, despite not seeing him since you were ten.

“You gotta stop getting into fights, punk,” the thirteen-year-old chuckled as he ruffled the sandy blonde hair of his best friend, “you’re twelve and nearly losing to a eight year old.”

“He was nine,” Steve grumbled, shooing his friend’s hand away, “and anyways…I didn’t need your help, Buck. I’m Steve Rogers. The heir to the Itali-“

“You’re the heir of every ass-kicking from here to the Bronx with how you go picking fights…” Bucky replied sternly, his laughter fading away, “come on man…I shouldn’t have to rescue you from a little kid…all I wanted to do was enjoy my book and-”

“He was annoying (Y/N).”

Bucky gave you a small frown and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your eight-year-old chest, “he wasn’t annoying me nearly as much as you were, Rogers…”

Steve’s nostrils flared, “you know…I did it to help you, (Y/N)! I did it because I was standing up for my wif-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Steven Grant Rogers!” You growled, cutting the older boy off as you wagged your finger in his face, “don’t you dare! I am not your wife!”

“But (Y/N), you are going to be it one day!” he said quickly, “you’re going to be my wife! And I’m going to burn down the world for you…or at least anyone that gets in your way.”

“You’re in my way,” you growled, “you’re always in my way. News flash, Steve…I don’t need you lurking around every corner waiting to be chivalrous. I don’t want it!”

“But (Y/N) I’m doing it because I love you,” he simpered, attempting to take your hand in his own, “I-

You sneered, your face scrunching up at the words as you ripped your hand from his, “stop it, Steve! I will never be your wife…because you won’t make it to adulthood. You won’t ever be anything other than a scrawny little twerp who can’t fight his own battles let alone the ones you pick over me…and you’re gonna get Bucky hurt…just like the last time.”

Steve frowned as he turned to look at his best friend. Bucky nervously pulled the sleeve down so that his cybernetic arm was covered by the sweater, “(Y/N)…”

You looked at your older brother, still angry over the accident that Steve caused years ago when he and Bucky first became friends.

“I-It was an accident, my lo-“

“I’m not your anything, Steve!” you spat, glaring at the young man, “now go away!”

Bucky took a step forward, “(Y/N), that’s enough. Steve was being a good fiancé and looking out for you. And right now, you’re being a spoiled brat and pushing people’s buttons.”

“You had to come save his butt!”

“Yeah…and he saved yours…it’s what family does for one another…” Bucky growled, defending his friend, “family makes sure that they’re safe and sound. That they-“

“Then why did he let you lose your arm, huh Bucky?”

“(Y/N)!”

You were snapped from your thoughts, and you noticed that the door to your father’s study was open, and man just inside the door, holding it open was none other than your big brother. You felt a bit of pride in your stomach as you launched yourself at him, “BUCKY!”

“Pipsqueak!” Bucky exclaimed happily as he easily lifted you from the ground, “What are you doing in here? You’re supposed to be out there enjoying your party!”

“Ughh, gag me with a spoon!” you groaned, “last thing I want is another snotty person from one of the families telling me congrats. I wanted to see you, robo-boy!”

“(Y/N)” your father scolded as he stood from his desk. Your heart melted as you peeled yourself away from your older brother and started towards your father.

In the years since you’d last seen him, he’d definitely aged.

He was only about fifty years old, but time had not been kind to him.

He kept his hair short and tight on the sides, as was normal from his military days, but the salt and pepper look that had graced the longer hair on top was all but silver on the sides.

He looked like an aged version of your older brother. A little bit smaller, and definitely less muscle-mass, as well as the obvious differences in the fact that your father had both of his arms, while one of your brothers was a robotic one, but they were very much the same otherwise.

“Daddy!”

He smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, becoming wrapped in the scent of the posh cologne that he wore that reminded you of smokey bourbon and fresh leather. His scolding of you had quickly faded and he allowed himself to melt under your touch.

“Oh, sweetheart…I’ve missed you…it’s nice to have all of my children so close to home again…”

“How’ve you been. Wha-“

“Good…good!” he smiled, pulling away from you, “but I don’t want to talk about me. Tonight is about you, honey. You and Steve!”

You groaned, hearing your fiancé’s name, “Daddy….can we just not talk about Steve Rogers for a second…you know that I don’t want to marry him.”

“Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.”

You paled as you turned around and noticed a man that you didn’t recognize, standing off to the side of the room. He was watching you interacting with his father while he kept his hands in his pockets.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks as you stared back at the attractive man. He was tall and muscular…well built. His sandy blonde hair was styled elegantly, and he was dressed to the nines. You felt your heart fluttering as he looked at you with his cerulean stare and pouty lips.

Was he someone new to your father’s crew?

But then the words snapped in your mind.

‘Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.’

And you paled once more.

NO!

It couldn’t be.

Your stomach turned.

Had you just been guilty of finding yourself attracted to him? To Steve Rogers.

You took a few steps away from your father and started to back out of the study. “Sweetheart, where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” you muttered softly as you backed through the door. You were nearly there until you stumbled when you took another step back. You thought you’d hit the edge of the door frame, but when you heard the crashing of a silver platter behind you and the crunching of glass, you spun, “oh fuck…”

You had knocked over a waiter carrying a tray of champagne from the catering space in the kitchen to the party outside.

“And here I was thinking it was bad luck to see the bride just on the night before the wedding,” the charming blonde smiled as he leaned against the bookcase. You shot him a glare, trying to focus your rage into him, instead of staring at his chiseled jawline and the way that his clothes clung to his muscular frame and slim waist. He pushed himself away from it and pulled his hands from his pockets. In three quick steps he was nearly on top of you, his arm already looping around your waist and pulling you close. Your lips parted as you stared into his cerulean eyes, unsure of what to do or say. A smirk tugged at his lips, “why did no one tell me that it’s also two days before?”

“S-steve…”

He chuckled, and the action sent a pulse straight to your core as he watched you, “have you been drinking, (Y/N?)”

You felt a whimper escaping the back of your throat as you lost all resolve. You weakly nodded, unable to form the words.

“I can smell it on your breath,” he chuckled softly, still holding you close, “You naughty girl…”

“Sweetheart…I’m sure you remember Steve…” your father reminded you, “perhaps…your brother should take you to the powder room though…or the kitchen and get you sobered up before we address the guests for coming to celebrate you and him…”

“Y-yeah…”

#signed sealed delivered #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america

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gaveyouigaveyoui · 5 months ago

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tagged by @tayloralisonswift & @actual-sleeping-beauty i love you both!!!!!!

tagging: @blushingallthewayhome @notesonartistry @thegreatimpersonator @isitcasualnow @ofthemessyoumade if you'd like to make a poll!

#thank you for the tags!#tag games #about jen #polls #steal something from my room

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alyxdefoisnthere · 1 year ago

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IF YOU ROLEPLAY WITH ME, DM ME, I HAVE A LINK FOR YOU 😋😋😋

Mod D: This blog has so many trigger warnings I can't be arsed to name them, so for this reason PROCEED WITH CAUTION, now you can't say I didn't warn you because it's in all caps in my intro post so haha fuck you.

I am female unless I'm not, then I'm male unless I'm not, then I'm neither unless I'm not, then I'm both unless I'm no-....... In other words, I use she/he/they pronouns.

(Yoinked from @xdynomite )

MY FRIENDS!!!! <3

-@millie-of-imp (A SECOND MOD D BLOG?! WHAAAAT?!?!)

-@alastor-the-demon (my bestest friend in all of the 9 circles of hell, like a father to me :3)

-@alastorthisisthetea (married dad)

-@siempreminta (one and only mum, is married to married dad)

-@mcalastor (minimum wage dad)

-@leo-velaz (Father Leo <3)

-@sketchbuddies (sketch and crystal are my children)

-@stampy-offical (My future husband, come at him and you'll find your heart in his hands... Literally)

-@xdynomite (my Americunt™ boy, come at me hoe)

-@bachirathebumblebee145 (my IRL school pookie, follow her or I'll hunt you down)

-@possibly-astraeus (cool guy James :D)

-@kip-davis (fellow Brit)

-@ilovemydogrykersomuch

-@ducky-loyal-servant-of-lucifer (my child who's older than me, hurt them and I'll kill you)

-@autistic-katara

-@astro-raven-power (My lil sis)

-@king--of--ducks (Step dad Luci, married to minimum wage dad)

-@nerdyquestier

-@cursed-cat-alastor (my pet cat because i like cats more than dogs :3)

-@flowersbringsadness (my very precious pup)

-@cherri-is-bomb (big sis cherri)

-@weapon-collector-odette (sister)

-@hoshi-neko-hikari (my child, hurt her and I hurt your knee caps)

-@velvettefashions-official (same mod as miss Rosie)

-@vox-tv-demon (my father)

-@headlessdeaddancer (my younger brother)

EVERYONE ON THIS POST IS THE GOAT AND THEY NEED TO KNOW THAT, SPAM THEM WITH ALL OF YOUR LOVE....or else

go check everyone on this post out or i will personally come to your house an make a Ramsay level meal out of you

What is my goofy ass doing right now?

I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time heeheee

in other words, cus im me, i naturally had a strike of bad luck and can now only use tumblr at my friend's house or when she's with me

Mod Status: On my period and about to puke 🥰

My dad is a prick, fuck you

NOTIFICATION GOAL: More than 3, im not online enough to care, as long as my friends who talk to me in DM's regularly respond to me, im not fussed

OMFG I HAVE A SCHEDULE?!?!

Online whenever I can when my friend is with me or I'm with her (Thank you C)

MONSTER CAN COLLECTION LIST

-Bad Apple

-Pipeline Punch

-Pacific Punch

-Lewis Hamilton (special edition)

-Ultra Black

-Orange Dreamsicle

-Mango Loco

-Khaotic

-MXXD

-Ultra Strawberry dreams

-Original

-Nitro

-White pineapple

-Ultra rosa

-Ultra golden pineapple

-Aussie Lemonade

-Ultra peachy keen

ALL ABOUT ME, MOD D

My name is Alyx Danielle GH (not giving yall my full name lmfao), I go by Danielle both here and IRL. I dont like the name Alyx because I associate it with the trauma I went through as a young child and I hate the fact my PRICK OF A DAD chose that name. My dad is not a very nice parent, he told me I would be a druggie, alchie (alchoholic) and a slag by the time im 16, yeeeaahhh....real nice parenting. Im genderfluid, presenting as female, bisexual, my birthday is January 28th 2010 making me 14. I was born in a small city here in England and I am 3/4 Irish. I like to draw, read (I reccommend strangeways) and bake, I suffer with physical and mental health problems including Anxiety, ASD and ADHD. I dont like fakes, homphobes pedos, bigots, racists etc, so if youre any of these...BACK OFF OF MY SILLY AHH RP BLOG

ALL ABOUT ALYX

Alyx is alot of things, the first thing that will stick out is that she's a dark angel and resembles Alastor, they're best friends, not family, she has loads of brothers and sisters, her favourite is MJ, she has a husband (Stampy) and two daughters (Sketch and Crystal), they're adopted and she'd love a biological child one day, she herself is adopted and her mother is Dove with 2 baby sisters (Abigail and Catorina), she has quite a few fathers.....the first one she would go to is Leo, Vox, or Doves husband Alastor, she loves T to bits and if any harm comes ro anyone she knows, blood will be shed. She's mute so when she's communicating it's through a notebook and looks like "this"

VERY IMPORTANT

@leo-velaz is THE GOAT, Mod E very kindly runs my account if I'm offline for an extended period of time and I owe my entire account to them.

(The above was yoinked from @kip-davis)

#pinned post #yes I do need a mosnter can collection #mod d rambles....for fuck sake

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mrfancyfoot · 12 days ago

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Raphael x Evie (f!OC)

Fic Rating: E/Varied | Chapter 1: AO3 + Tumblr | Master List

Chapter 19: Rose Tattoo "Due to Haarlep's despicable actions, Raphael makes a one-time special offer."

< Previous Chapter: May Not Be Prada | Next Chapter: To Be Added >

From fucking around and finding out, to not asking all the right questions, everyone is learning something today! :D Raphael opts to use Haarlep's disobedience to entice Evie into a different kind of contract. Evie fucks with Haarlep a bit for being a sex pest.

The song bit at the end is from "Rose Tattoo" by the Dropkick Murphys. With him still trying to play nice, I figured Raphael probably wouldn't make the contract mark anything purposefully ugly/obnoxious, but is toootally the kind to go for something cheesy. Making it a rose was a very last-minute decision on my part, though, so I'm still of two minds about it.

❤️ Thanks for reading! :3 ❤️

Rating: M / NSFW-ish

Word Count: ~5.3k

Tags: POV Evie; Raphael; Haarlep; Contracts; Avoidance as a Coping Mechanism

Warnings: Rated for Haarlep’s Potty Mouth and Problematic Views on Consent; Haarlep isn't Nice; Marking/Tattooing via Magic (Dub-Con, could be seen as Non-Con - for contract fulfillment purposes); Blood; Minor Gore; Gratuitous Liberties Taken with Infernal Law

Read under the cut or on AO3

“Have you spoken a word of Haarlep or my having an incubus to anyone else? Or perhaps allowed them to peruse your diary?”

“No. I don't think anyone has since I added the pages about them,” came her easy answer. Saying anything about them would have only concerned everyone else even more than they already were. Until now, there hadn’t been any problems…

“You’ve written pages about me?”

Raphael's lips curled into a smile at the rim of his steaming cup of coffee—kaeth, whatever it was—as he took a sip. “Perfect. What I propose then, for your continued mum, is thus—” He produced a contract upon the table and she fought back a groan, urging her brain cells to wake up faster as she slid her fingers beneath the parchment to pick it up.

It was quite short and she very quickly figured out why: it was mostly blank. Or a ‘fill in the blank,’ rather.

As much as she hated the taste of coffee, she was considering knocking back a cup or two over her tea purely for the additional caffeine. Though when the servant—one of the first that she had truly seen, aside from the Archivist—poured Raphael’s, her nose hairs felt ready to burn right out of her face. He liked it strong, for sure.

“You are free to state what you desire in return. Consider this an open negotiation,” he explained as he sat back with all the content of an arrogant cat.

Raphael wanted her to name her terms in exchange for her silence regarding Haarlep’s existence, alongside what read as a non-disclosure agreement. As named within, Raphael would act as witness and enforcer. At its core, it was a contract between her and Haarlep, officiated by Raphael as Haarlep’s master.

This required exceedingly careful thought. Accepting meant that whatever terms agreed upon would be binding by Infernal law. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about having anything tying her to the incubus. But they were presently part and parcel to Raphael’s world, and, if she chose to stay in it in any manner, she could need the unsaid protection he was offering.

The NDA was, for all appearances, boiler-plate. If she spoke of Haarlep to any but the listed entities—mostly made up of Raphael’s circle it seemed, but she didn’t recognise all of the names or entities—or the existence of the contract itself, their contract and any terms within would be null and void. She could essentially continue as-is without any further burden but have assured protection through her own terms. Presuming they agreed to them.

“Question: is ‘Haarlep’ their actual name and-or is this fully enforceable if not?” She had never seen the name spelled out before, and, now that she had, her brain was seeing a curious pattern of letters. An anagram? The incubus had a version of his skin and evidently even his name. A dim light lit up in a tiny corner of her brain as it tinkered away with the little bits and pieces she’d gleaned over the time she’d known them both.

“How astute.” Was she right? “I assure you that, with the proper terms, it is fully binding as an Infernal contract.”

Evie couldn’t help but feel as though this was some kind of test. ‘Proper terms,’ yeah…

“I don’t get it,” she huffed. “If you actually cared about me saying anything about them, this would have come up months ago after I first met them. Why now?”

“I’m surprised that you have never made mention of Haarlep to anyone. Not even your vampling?” Not an answer.

She shrugged, taking a breath to keep her patience. “It never felt relevant.”

“Therefore, it makes for a simple exchange, no? Haarlep’s reprehensible actions were an unfortunate oversight on my part, and I admit that I feel responsible,” Raphael said with a shake of his head and exaggerated frown, placing a hand to his chest. He must have slept well since he was back to pulling out the theatrics. “What better consolation than to empower you to dictate your own terms for restitution? Consider it a gesture of… good will.”

“It’s cute how you both pretend as though I am not sitting right here. Do I get no say in this?”

He didn’t deem the incubus worthy of a response.

Was Raphael that afraid she’d want nothing more to do with him? That she’d blame him to that degree? If she tried to think of it from his perspective and from what she knew and could presume of the cultures she’d come into contact with, a master was often held responsible for the actions of those that served them or fell under their rule, and making reparations to an injured party was the expectation—was there an Infernal law that stipulated as such? He did say he felt responsible, which maybe wasn’t so out of character as it seemed for one who said they valued rules and order so highly. While it wasn’t an apology, it might have been the closest she’d get out of a devil. Though he wasn’t the one who should have been apologizing…

Since Haarlep had been transported to the dining room some minutes ago, beaten and bloodied and looking all-around worse for wear - though hardly acting it - she had staunchly ignored their presence after they had been commanded to sit between her and Raphael at the table. Raphael had seen it appropriate to inflict whatever corporal punishment he believed necessary in the span of time since she last saw the incubus.

It evidently wasn’t enough with how Haarlep sprawled in the chair and leered at her with a maddening smirk the whole time.

What did Raphael stand to gain? How did this work in his favor? Haarlep made her way less likely to sign away her soul if she was to be condemned here in any capacity, so it was important enough to him that he was willing to take Haarlep out of the picture to ‘sweeten the deal.’ And…if she forbade Haarlep from touching her again by contract, it wasn’t just an order they were disobeying, it was breaking the terms of a contract. If she was right, and there was something between them that prevented Raphael from acting within the full extent of his power with regards to Haarlep, then a third party contract could provide extra leeway if he needed to enforce its terms.

Raphael was Haarlep’s master…but she vaguely recalled the incubus mentioning something about his father being involved somehow. Did Raphael fall under his father’s rule or command? She couldn’t recall ever hearing him mentioned before.

It was so frustrating knowing she knew practically nothing—all this was, was thinking in circles and bringing back the headache from earlier.

But one thing was becoming clear: she had to properly educate herself.

Maybe Gale had some books about the Hells? Or Wyll? Karlach obviously knew a lot but was it to the degree that she needed?

Chin braced on her palm, Evie smiled disarmingly. “Am I able to think on this and come back?”

Raphael gestured towards the parchment with a matching smile. “This is a one-time offer, fox. Should you leave here without signing this contract, it will be off the table, so to speak.” Darn it. “Take all the time that you need, but you would be wise not to forget your other imminent obligations.” He popped another cherry into his mouth.

So that was part of the game. He wanted her to rush. Write up something overly simple and clumsy. If too clumsy, and there were holes in it that Haarlep—or he—could exploit, then the blame was later on her.

She couldn’t rush. Though her companions would, no doubt, have noticed her missing still by now, they were unlikely to do anything drastic yet or move on without her, so she did have a little time to think this through and do it properly.

Grabbing her journal, Evie flipped to the section she’d written about Haarlep and slid her claw down the inside edge of the pages, carefully scoring and severing them from the rest—best to destroy any mention of them if she was going through with this. She closed and set aside the journal once more and flipped the pages to a blank area to use to write a draft. Before she could ask, an ink pot appeared with a ‘clack’ upon the table near her hand. She mumbled her thanks.

Time to pull out all the law and contract knowledge she had stuffed in random nooks of her brain. Thankfully with a few law classes under her belt from her university days and being one to frequently read through such things as corporate EULAs and local bylaws and other legalese, while a bit daunting, this didn’t feel impossible even if they weren’t identical legal systems. But like being smacked with a surprise test she didn’t know to even study for, her heart began to race in her chest.

But this kind of high pressure was what she excelled at. With the added boost of caffeine and a bit of a fire under her ass for the adrenaline, her brain whirled away with its brainstorming and analysis.

What, exactly, did she want out of this?

Was it better to be broad or concise? How could her words or theirs be interpreted in other ways?

Haarlep reached past her to pluck a bunch of grapes from one of the fruit bowls, very blatantly towering over her to see what she was jotting.

Evie tapped her quill. “Do infernal contracts…have any innate properties that I should know of?”

“An Infernal contract is stridently upheld under the rule of law of the Hell’s, enforced up to the maximum extent as permitted by law…and within any constraints, allowances, or exceptions as explicitly agreed upon within any one contract,” he recited. “Unless you are after specific details, my dear, I am afraid I could fill many a lecture with the wealth of information that makes up our rule of law.”

The very fact that he seemed willing to even humor her was…interesting.

He had shelves upon shelves of law books in his office. Maybe he had versions in Common she could skim through?

“Must I listen to all this boring legal talk?” the incubus groaned as they slouched further in their chair. “There are a plethora—the whole Hell’s worth—of imaginings far more stimulating that we could be taking pleasure in at this very moment.” They drew their hand up their thigh and lewdly traced the hem of their bottoms.

“Are you required to provide this information?” she wondered aloud.

“It is prudent that all involved parties have an understanding of the contract in question. I would never be one to leap to assumptions about another party’s extent of relevant knowledge but may impart guidance where inquired.” That sounded like a dodgy way to say ‘yes.’

So as long as her questions were related to the contract legalese, he had some extent of obligation to answer. Very good to know.

Haarlep hummed in a manner that could normally be considered ‘thoughtful,’ but she didn’t want to attribute such a word to them. “I truly cannot remember the last time I heard a mortal ask. Most never think or bother to do so.” They cocked their head and sat up to lean on the table to watch her write. She scowled seeing blood smeared across the surface far too close to her. “Such fine penmanship! An educated little foxy. Were you a scholar? A spoiled noble with private tutelage? Or perhaps…a naive girl of some religious sect?”

She rolled her eyes but they read something into it. “Ah~ Is that right? Are you involved with a church? A cult? Are you a pious foxy, so flighty yet eager to be corrupted in the world of devils? Or a deviant vi—”

“There’s a word for people like you,” she interrupted, finally addressing Haarlep but not looking up from her work.

“Oh!” They excitedly slid closer, their tail wavering high behind them. “Seductive? Entic—”

“Obnoxious,” she replied dryly, then pointedly looked up at Raphael. “May I ask you something without them present?”

Faster than Haarlep could object, there was a snap and they were gone. “You have my attention, fox.”

“Haarlep mentioned something…before. Is your father among the names listed here?” She tapped the sequence of names to which she was allowed to speak freely of Haarlep. Upon the very mention, his face scrunched in displeasure as he looked from the parchment to her. She was right.

He stared at her calculatedly for a long moment. “Do tell—how does my father pertain to this?” Raphael demanded with a wave of his hand towards the contract.

Evie confidently met his gaze. “I want…a similar reciprocal clause where they are also barred from speaking of me or the contract to others minus appropriate exceptions, as well. I’m led to believe that Haarlep has made mention of me to him.”

The simmering anger abated. “A nuisance hardly able to control their blathering,” he seemed to confirm.

In a flurry of sparks, his own grandly-feathered quill appeared and began scrivening across the contract parchment, the ink glowing a fiery red then blackening.

“And Haarlep’s name needs to be added to the list of those that I am able to speak of them—and the contract—to.” She wasn’t about to chance fucking up and breaking the contract within two seconds of signing it if it could at all work that way.

Raphael chuckled with a grin of mischief. “Haarlep had bet you would not catch the omission. I wagered the fox too perceptive to let it simply slip her by. I shall be pleased to collect my winnings from them.”

“That—!” Evie balked at their deliberate attempt at trickery, biting her tongue to keep from cursing. “Is there anything you want me to add to require of them?” she whispered conspiratorially.

Skeptical, his brow raised. “Unnecessary. But how sweet of you to ask.” He beckoned her to pass over the draft she’d been working on. “However…why don’t we review what you have written thus far.”

An indignant scoff. “Did you help her? I feel so betrayed—by my own master, no less!” Haarlep read over the current iteration of the contract with the terms and clauses she had requested to be added. They slapped it down and half sprawled across the table, brazenly eyeing Raphael with a claw teasing their lips. “Oh, your dear father was beside himself with glee upon hearing you had found another fun little novelty to spend your time chasing. Lord Mephistopheles will be so melancholic at the lack of stories all about the cute, fluffy foxy!” How daring. The incubus was willing to air laundry out of some sort of retaliation.

“I’m sure he’d be downright inconsolable if he knew that it was all your fault, too,” Evie needled, deliberately responding before Raphael did as she noted the anger rising on his face. She felt bolder in knowing that she had an upper hand in this matter, but what she didn’t want this turning into was a temperamental argument spinning out of control just because the incubus knew which of Raphael’s buttons to press.

Oddly, Mephistopheles wasn’t among the specific names that had been listed on the contract. Which could only mean that he fell into one of the collectives. She was vaguely familiar with the name in a biblical folklore sense, but didn’t know where he would fall here. Somewhere in high-ranking governance, she would presume with the title ‘Lord.’ She didn’t want to ask yet and derail the conversation further, though.

Haarlep’s gaze narrowed on her and the confident smirk faltered as they silently appraised her.

“Sign, Haarlep.” Raphael had sat back in his chair and crossed his legs with his hands steepled upon his knee, staring down his incubus. “It is far past time for us to be done with this nonsense of your doing,” he bit.

Haarlep rolled their eyes and pouted. “This is hardly fair!”

“Au contraire—” Evie rebutted, “—all things considered, I am being incredibly reasonable.” Her contract terms largely boiled down to Haarlep not being able to touch her without her consent and the statement about non-disclosure to certain entities. She was too soft to demand additional punitive measures for what had already been done, though she was hoping she wouldn’t regret not instating something more along the lines of a restraining order against their presence near her entirely. Despite what had happened, it felt like too much to ask for in Raphael’s home.

Haarlep made like they were going to stand but thought better of it. “Ganging up on poor me. It is us who are to take advantage of mortal ignorance and naivety, and yet, here you are allowing her privilege. Such special treatment for the little foxy.” They turned back to her and leered, biting their lip. “Did you beg the Master to give you a lesson in our laws while I was away? I would have bent you over the table and buried my cock in you in return for my aid.”

“Sign the damn paper,” she sneered in exasperation, sick of their disrespect.

“It’s all a game, you know,” Haarlep started. They pointed to her head, body, and then made a grasping gesture as they spoke, “Coat it all in sugar to sweeten up the fox. Disarm her mind, disarm her body, take her soul.”

Evie sighed with a roll of her eyes. When would this be over? “I’m not dumb. Just because we might be on friendly terms doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten I’m dealing with a devil.”

They barked out a laugh. “How adorable for you to believe there is anything friendly about this!” They pulled the contract back over. “Very well.” Raising their hand to their mouth, they bit at their thumb. Evie watched as blood welled up and they pressed their thumb to the parchment. “There. Everything in this contract is void should the Master come to own you, after all. Your consent doesn't matter when you are owned by another,” they warned, though the threat in their words was hardly veiled.

“You’re like my inbox personified,” she bemoaned and pulled the contract towards herself to write her signature near their disgusting, bloody smudge. Though as she brought her pen to the parchment, she had the sudden realisation that she didn’t know what to sign for her signature. She no longer used her actual full legal name and had no intention of doing so since arriving in this world. But if Haarlep could get away with not using their actual name, then the same should apply to her, too, right? With a few strokes of her quill, she signed the same way she signed Raphael’s guestbook—E.V.

As she then passed it along for its final signature, she requested, “Raphael, please incorporate this contract in any future Soul-Sworn contract offerings.”

A final glance over it to ensure all was in order, and with a wave of his hand, his initial appeared upon the contract. “Consider it granted.”

Aghast at how easily he had agreed, the incubus slapped their hands down on the table and gasped with incredulity, “Master!”

Raphael spread his arms with a devilish smirk. “She asks so politely.”

She stifled her giggle, resisting the urge to childishly stick her tongue out the incubus again. Maybe this contract was really just meant as a ‘fuck you’ to Haarlep. Though being the middle of a proxy war couldn’t be the best of situations to find herself in.

“Your hand, my dear,” Raphael then requested of her, extending his own and interrupting her thoughts.

When Haarlep suddenly sat back and crossed their arms with a haughty smile, she should have known something was up. There had been a brief relief that everything was now settled between them, which—in retrospect—was immature.

But, though hesitant, she did as she was told, leaning over the table some to reach with her right.

Raphael took hold of her hand, his thumb passing over her knuckles, then turning it palm up as though inspecting it. She could help but notice that his own were very warm, his touch and skin softer than she would have expected them to be.

She felt the sudden swell of power off of him and reflexively ducked her head to squeeze her eyes shut. After a few moments, she peeked through her lashes to make sure the burst of light had dissipated from his transformation.

His wings stretched broadly and he readjusted himself in his chair. The much larger hands on hers became even warmer, his skin no longer having the same softness but his palms were smooth. Though they did not prick or cut her, the sharp edges of his claws set her on edge. Her mind chose then to remind her of the induced dream she’d had that night.

Evie glanced over at Haarlep to shake the thoughts and found them to be watching raptly with a suspiciously silent grin.

With an alarm blaring in her skull at their change of behavior, she asked, “What’s happening?”

Raphael explained as though it were plain as day, “In order to ensure that my troublesome incubus does not breach the terms of your contract, I require a means by which to enforce them. A mark.” His eyes flicked up to hers from beneath his brow, peering at her with amusement at her panic. “Clearly you are no stranger to flesh ink —consider it no different.”

“Uhm…” She swallowed thickly. The gremlins and dust pixies that made her brain function were calling it a day and packing it in with this new information. Her thoughts were nothing but TV static and the screech of a dial-up tone.

He was going to tattoo her?

Teasingly, Haarlep asked, “She appears quite taken aback. Are you having regrets now, little foxy?”

“No!” she snapped, feeling her tail lash behind her. If that was what needed to be done, she could suck it up. Hopefully.

There was no further warning before Raphael began. He swiped his finger through the still-wet stamp of Haarlep’s blood on the contract and pressed it to her wrist, just above her tattoo of black lace.

She watched his hand shift, clenching her teeth together when his claw pricked her skin from the middle of the smudge and slowly slid down in a straight line through her tattoo. A burning sensation immediately spread from the cut through her hand and radiated up her arm, causing her to slap her other hand over her mouth to contain a shriek of pain. Her right hand closed tightly around the thumb of his that had been holding hers steady.

“There’s no need to hide, foxy,” Haarlep said as though enjoying a show. “We would love to hear your delicious cries of pain!”

Evie wanted to bare and gnash her teeth at them but wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of anything escaping. Instead, she took a deep breath through her nose and attempted to focus purely on her breathing.

It felt like it was working to take her mind off it until she felt his claw pierce into her skin again…and again, the heat and pain flaring once more with each cut made. Though she half watched it through her heartbeat-blurred vision, she couldn’t even feel her own blood running off her wrist and beginning to drip to the table below.

The bastard might have said to consider it like a tattoo, but no tattoo burned like this.

After he said something in what she presumed was Infernal, the carved mark glowed in fiery shades for a moment. As the mark seemed to settle, most of the pain dulled to an aching throb.

Raphael rubbed her skin clear of blood with his thumb, lifting his hand to his mouth to lick it clean with a satisfied hum. “The vampire may have taste, after all.” Releasing her hand, he said, “All finished. A fine work by my hand. Haarlep cannot touch you without my knowing.” He smacked away the incubus’ hand as they reached for the drops of her blood on the table.

“I want a taste, too!” Haarlep whined. “It’s only fair—the little beast got to taste mine.”

Shooting Haarlep an incredulous glare, Evie slunk down in her seat and cradled her wrist, tilting her head to inspect the new mark. It was…a rose. Somehow, the blood pressed to her skin had left behind a bright red smudge. The cuts the devil made had scarred over an inky black, giving shape to a macabre bloom of petals and a jagged, thorny stem that bisected her tattoo.

“Do you not remember? Oh, you didn’t tell her!” the giddily exclaimed to the devil that could not have looked less interested as he propped his head in his palm. “You, darling beast, sank those little fangs into me a number of times! I’ve you to thank for a portion of this.” They gestured to the wounds scattered on their body.

“Good for me,” she mumbled, wanting to go back to completely ignoring them, but they seemed determined to get a rise out of her.

“I was surprised at the amount of flesh you managed to tear from my hand.” They held it up and a large flap of skin fell away grotesquely.

Evie quirked a brow at them and refused to be cowed. “Noted. I’ll do a better job of skinning you properly next time.”

Haarlep threw their head back and laughed. “Aw, tough words from a little pup. But all of that—” they waved their hand over where the contract had been before rolling upon itself and vanishing—“is now behind us. Why don’t we start anew, hmm? We could be friends.”

Evie stared blankly at the incubus.

“Do you hate me so?” they asked at her silence.

A calmness had overcome her since signing the contract—and getting actual feeling that wasn’t pain back into her hand. Their presence no longer meant…anything. Glancing over the foods piled on the table that she had not yet touched, she answered flatly, “You aren’t worthy of that kind of effort.”

They braced their chin on their palm with a smile she was sure they thought was some kind of alluring but it didn’t meet their eyes, leaving them instead just seeming…predatory. “I could take a different form, if that would be more to your liking?”

Impulsive words died on her tongue as a new idea came to mind to try to shake them off. “Ooh, yes!” She clasped her hands together to pretend to be excited, her hungry stomach urging her on.

If her sudden change in attitude bothered them, they didn’t show it. “And what is your preferred—”

Evie grinned wider. “Something edible.”

They stared at her for a long moment without moving until their eyes shifted to Raphael and back.

As they started to open their mouth to say more, Evie decided to be more explicit, picking up a fillet knife from the table and testing the bend with her finger, “Like a fish, please! I haven’t had good sushi in forever. Or I could definitely go for some barbecued eel.“

They huffed in offense, but the haughtiness in their words told her they weren’t taking her seriously. “Happily, I shall report that I have lain with no such lesser creature.”

“Do you have, like, a menu I could reference?” she asked.

They stood and spun around their chair, crossing their arms over the top of it. “How about a dragon?” they offered.

She gave consideration to the offer, exaggeratedly screwing up her face in thought. In other circumstances, she’d have so many questions—pity they were such a vile asshole. “Is that like alligator?” she questioned, actually wanting to know now. “So, important question… When you die, do you retain the form that you’re in or—”

Haarlep scowled—in a manner so similar yet so different from their master’s. “I thought your sort was against such depravities.” She sensed a crack forming.

“First time for everything, I suppose.” She shrugged and swayed to the side to assess if there would even be any viable meat cuts on them. Could devils be eaten?

In a stroke of timing that couldn’t have been better, her stomach chose to growl loudly at that moment.

They fled to stand behind Raphael and dipped forward over his shoulder to hiss, “Master, do you not consider it strange that this wretched creature is sitting right there sizing up your form to mince for a platter?”

Raphael was wearing a mask of stoicism but there was humor in his eyes and desire to play along. “I would hardly consider it odd for one of her proclivities.”

Confusion swept over Haarlep.

Sitting back and playing with the knife in her hands, Evie smiled and flirtily snapped her teeth at the incubus. “Oh, did he not tell you?” she repeated their words back at them with a flutter of her lashes. “I’m the camp cook and butcher. I have several mouths to feed, after all, so I have to get a bit creative with our food resources. Minotaur, hook horrors. The next illithid to try anything fishy is getting turned into calamari. I’d try devil.”

Their scowl deepened in disgust and uncertainty.

Evie dug in. “I think your tail taste like alligator.”

“If you thought that mark was painful, ingesting a devil’s blood might burn a hole straight through you, foxy,” they quipped defensively.

“That’s what exsanguination’s for, silly!” she replied. “Lots of things require special prep for eating.”

They blanched, curling tighter around their master. “I’m certain there’s something around here that can be served up if you’re so Hells bent on eating a devil.”

“My appetite’s a bit more vindictive than that. I played nice out of respect for Raphael,” she declared with more confidence than she felt. “Don’t touch me again, and I’ll have no reason to rip your wings off and turn you into little fried devil nuggets.”

“Ugh, shoo, beastie!” Haarlep swept their arm out at her. “Send her back!” they angrily demanded.

She had successfully gotten under their skin.

Raphael lifted his hand and she expected to feel herself enveloped by his magic to return her to camp, but it was the incubus that disappeared instead.

An immense tension she didn’t know she had in her body left once they were gone. Evie let out a breath and tossed the knife on the table. Sliding down further, she stared at the ceiling. She was gonna need another nap after this.

“I’m a little upset that you didn’t say I should add a clause about gagging them,” she grumbled.

“Much becomes obvious in hindsight,” he said with a smirk.

“Is there anything else that I should know about this mark?” she asked, sticking her arm up in the air. She had thought she’d considered every angle she could of the contract and had still missed something. It was best to figure out what else she may have missed before leaving.

“Those who are particularly sensitive to the properties of Infernal magic may be able to sense it, though the amount is minuscule.” Not something that had occurred to her to worry about. She’d have to figure out who to be cautious around… “It will only activate at Haarlep’s touch to remove them from you and inform me of their breach of conduct.”

“Remove them, how?” she followed up.

“Forcefully,” was his simple response before he continued, “You got your desired terms through the contract but that does not mean that I am yet satisfied with Haarlep’s punishment. They disobeyed me in their attempt to usurp my claim of your soul. As you and I are now bound by contract, that mark will ensure that lesser devils will think twice about approaching you or accepting any pleas or bargains for help.” It partially sounded like a threat to her ears, a reminder of what he was after and a potential narrowing of avenues for removing the tadpole but she really didn’t have any intention of making more deals with devils.

She hummed noncommittally, a catchy song taking residence in her head. “I like the rose.”

‘In a rose tattoo, in a rose tattoo. I’ve got your name written here in a rose tattoo…’

❤️ Thank-you for reading!! Please consider liking & reblogging.❤️

Coming up next: "So About that Soul Sworn Contract" + a lesson in etiquette

< Previous Chapter: May Not Be Prada | Next Chapter: To Be Added >

#Plots & Prosody #baldur's gate 3 raphael #bg3 Raphael #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 raphael fanfic #raphael x oc #mrfancyfoot

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 9 months ago

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status of babbit's life yeehaw

tl,dr: busy moving and a couple of other big life things that just complicate things, but well on the way to being back to normal! new fic chapters and better quality art coming soon.

tl,wr (too long, will read):

Helloooo what's up its me, Babbit. or Rabbit. or Bones. or Idiot Moron Menace Child, idk im not picky lol

i know a lot of you guys have been wondering wtf is up with my upload schedule lately and the extreme lack of even basic content and also i am extremely aware that i have not updated my fics in a few millennia and for that i am very, very sorry. this post is to answer a few questions you might have, if anyone was curious about the 'reason' instead of just the 'when.'

my family and i have had a hell of a year, y'all. like, jesus christ, i really hope things level out and calm down for a while once we're moved in to our new apartment bc god damn we are so tired. the list goes: 1. we got kicked out of the house we were renting-to-own bc we wouldn't be able to afford the new rate, so they gave us two months to find a new place to live (not long enough, it turns out) and then foreclosed to get us out. 75% of our belongings were still in the house when we had to leave. that includes all of our christmas ornaments- including the ones kept for decades, and the ones made by me and my siblings, and the fancy ones made from blown glass. 2. the first night out of the house, one of our dogs, freaked out by the strangeness of the situation, panicked and slipped her harness and ran off. that was over a year ago. we haven't seen her since. 3. my cat got very ill and became unable to eat. she passed away almost exactly a year ago. she had been 14-15, and had been my baby since i was maybe 8. 4. one of the tires on my dads car blew out. during the night, while it was parked on the curb so he could put the spare on in the morning, one of the in-tact tires was fucking stolen LMAO 5. we applied to rent at so many places and got rejected so, so many times. it costs money to apply, btw. we're talking like $200+. no, u don't get that money back. 6. i lost my job bc knowing i would have to work 8 hours at a job that stresses me out to the point of exhaustion (at a place where no one takes me seriously and would actively laugh at me when i try to express my need to step away for a minute) sometimes paralyzed me and made me sick to my stomach and made me feel unable to leave the house, and i called out one too many times. a day after my birthday, too! 7. just recently, like within the last week, my dad's car got fuckin totalled!!!!!

THE GOOD NEWS IS WE OFFICIALLY, FINALLY, AFTER A SOLID YEAR, HAVE AN APARTMENT!!!!! I'LL HAVE MY OWN ROOM AGAIN!!! THERE'S AN ENTIRE KITCHEN!!!!!!!

the 'oh god' news is we still have to move in, and replace a lot of the stuff that we just couldn't take with us when we moved out (mostly stuff like bookshelves, dining table, dressers, etc) AND get the few things we could cram into a storage center out and moved into the new place, which isn't a lot but at the same time is more than we can realistically handle on our own. and then, we have to get my mums cats (a pair of kitty sisters that we had to temporarily house with my aunt, who got tired of looking after them and let them outside to be outdoor cats a few months ago. yes, this was an extremely shitty thing to do, and we've been working hard to get them back safely) AND my gecko (who my cousin has been looking after, even tho feeding him worms freaks him out LMAO yes i plan on compensating him) moved in, as well... basically oh my god there is so much to worry about but at the same time it's nice to have to worry about it bc it means we're making progress sdkfhsjdkfhdsjfh

basically i am just so tired but so busy and also thinkin abt so much im so sorry for lack of stuff but i am so looking forward to being able to bounce back, pls stick with me, it'll be sorted out soon i think and then i'll hit y'all with some good stuff i promise!!!!!!!

anyway thank u guys i love u and appreciate u all for sticking around

#bones of a rabbit #rambles #life update #lore of a babbit #babbit lore #personal stuff #vent #rant #in case anyone was curious #long post #tldr #tw death #tw grief #tw pet death

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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Off You Go

Summary - You and Oliver send Poppy off to Hogwarts, ready to let her go on her own

A/N - This is part of my Oliver Wood x reader with their daughter Poppy Wood storyline that I might be starting up officially pretty soon!

Warnings - mostly fluff!

“Alright, darlin’. Here we are,”

“Woah….Is this it, Da?”

“You bet, Pops,”

You were watching with a grin as your husband and daughter, who was sporting her school robes, peered at the Hogwarts Express together whilst holding hands between them. This day was a day neither you nor Oliver were ready for, and yet it finally came at last. The weather was perfect, you left your home earlier than you thought you would in case you were going to hit traffic, and now you had mere minutes before sending off your child to Hogwarts.

This day was huge in the Wood household.

Ever since Poppy Angelina Wood got her Acceptance Letter from Hogwarts, she was over the moon excited. There was no slowing down her mind when it came to what she imagined it would be like at Hogwarts, who she was going to meet, and what she’d learn. The possibilities were endless with your daughter, and she asked you and Oliver plenty of questions about what it was like for you two when you were students.

“Was Gryffindor the best house?”

“When can I play quidditch like you did, da?”

“Was Herbology hard to learn, mum?”

Both yourself and Oliver indulged her and answered every question she brought you two, never holding back as she was letting her mind expand with imaginations and dreams. Her older cousins told her plenty of tips and tricks too, promising you that they’d look out for her as she navigated her first year. Although that made you both feel a bit better, you were still a bit nervous about sending your only child off to school.

This time it was different for Poppy, she had no real threats against her compared to how it was for you and Oliver. Ever since the end of the Second Wizarding War, new protections and protocols were placed on the newly renovated Hogwarts, and there hasn’t been any accident or occurrences since then.

Hogwarts was safe again, insanely safe thanks to the new Aurors at the Ministry of Magic which included both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Another old Schoolmate and fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, wrote to you and Oliver with reassurance and comfort in telling you both he’ll look out for Poppy while he wasn’t teaching Herbology.

Still, no matter how many people were telling you Poppy was going to be fine and in good hands, you and Oliver still had some fears and some worries. Worries that she would hate it, worry that she wouldn’t get the proper footing on her own.

In the end, she had to go out on her own.

“The Hogwarts Express!” Poppy said in glee as she tugged on her father’s hand, looking at the massive red train that was ready to take off in a few minute's time. You were remembering back when you were a first year, the same height and size as your daughter, and looking at the massive train in wonder and excitement. You grinned, shifting in front of the trolley you were pushing with her trunk and a few parcels that she was taking with her from home to make the homesickness more tolerable.

Lastly, there was a small cage on the top of the trunk with an orange tabby cat inside, sleeping away and not caring what was going on around her. The cat, affectionally named Clover, was the house cat that was going to be Poppy’s cat at school, which was perfect since Poppy and Clover had been attached at the hip since Poppy was a toddler.

Other students and parents were bustling around the three of you, loading their possessions and saying their last goodbyes as the Hogwarts Express workers were busy packing the train with ease.

“Now, remember, when you get to the Hogsmeade Station, you’re goin’ to meet—“ Oliver started with Poppy, but she looked at him and spoke.

“Hagrid, I know Da,” she replied, you eyeing her and then Oliver, seeing the nervousness in his eyes as he knelt down in front of her. You walked over too, listening in on the conversation with your husband and daughter.

“And then you’ll be Sorted,” Oliver reminded her, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder to give him some ease, “Do ya remember what me and your mum told ya about the Houses?”

“It doesn’t matter what house I’m in, as long as I do my best wherever I go,” Poppy recited clearly, the train then whistling as the first warning that it was time to hop on the train. She looked a bit nervous then, her confidence was still a bit evident but the small sense of fear was now on her freckled face and in her bright eyes, “Da….Mum…I’m scared,”

That made your heart tender for a moment as you knelt down to be next to Oliver, giving your daughter a warm smile as you spoke, “And remember what we talked about? Being scared is normal. Poppy, this is the first step of a big adventure you’re going on, and you’re not alone, right? There are others who are scared too, because you don’t know what will happen, right?”

She nodded rapidly, her fingers were fidgeting in front of the school robes she was wearing. You and Oliver spoke to her the night before, hearing her worries and fears as if she wasn’t going to make friends if she was going to be lonely. You had those fears too as a child, and now that you were the parent, it was your turn to be the comforter and the one bringing peace.

“But that’s the best part, my little Pops,” Oliver explained to her, Poppy watching him with the same eyes she inherited from you and the freckles she got from him dancing on her nose and cheeks, “All ya can do is take it day by day, moment by moment, and know that you’re going to have the best time, at the best school.”

“Really?” She asked with hope in her tone.

“Absolutely! Your mum and I had the time of our lives all those seven years, both in the good times and bad. You’re strong, Poppy. Strong and as tough as they come, You’re a Wood after all,” he explained, Poppy giggling as Oliver held out his arms to her. Poppy hopped into his embrace, Oliver holding her close and almost breathing her in one last time as you petted her brown braid with your fingers. As hard as it was for you to be parted from your daughter, it was going to be harder for Oliver.

Oliver and Poppy were a tag team from the moment Poppy was born. Oliver loved being a father, it was one of the best roles he ever had in his life and he would take being a father over being a quidditch player anytime in his life. You knew it was a sacrifice for him when you told him you were pregnant, not to mention being pregnant during one of the harshest and scariest times in Magical history with Voldemort taking over the Magical World.

Poppy was a gift, the purest gift that Oliver never took for granted. He called off practices and matches to tend to Poppy when she was sick or when you needed help with her. He took her to professional matches when she was a toddler, rode with her while she was a baby in a harness, and even showed her off to his teammates and old schoolmates. He treasured her more than anything, and now he was letting his own treasure go on her own for the first time.

“I love ya to the moon and back, Poppy,” he said into her hair, his hold on her tightened slightly, "I’ll miss ya terribly without my partner in crime,”

“I love you too, Da!” She mumbled into his shirt, then pulled away and grinned at him, “I’ll miss you a lot.”

Oliver grinned, you nothing some tears in his eyes as Poppy moved over to hug you tightly. You hummed in happiness, keeping your daughter close as workers on the Hogwarts Express took her trolley away with her possessions, another single that it was almost time to board.

“I’m so proud of you my little Pops,” You said to her as you peppered her face with kisses to make her laugh. She giggled, Oliver was then chuckling wetly as you pulled away and framed her face in your fingers and palms, “We’ll see you again when you come back for the Christmas Holidays, okay? Remember to study hard, and to play just as hard. Also, make sure you write home at least once a month and tell us everything you’re up to,”

“Twice a month!” Oliver interjected, both you and Poppy looked at him in shock as he grinned with some tears on his cheek and a shrug on his shoulders.

“Da!” Poppy whined as you rolled your eyes and had Poppy face you again.

“At least once a month…for your Da’s sake,” You joked with him as Poppy giggled, “But most of all, you stay true to yourself and not lose sight of who you are. You’re smart, kind, and brave, Poppy Angelina Wood, and I am already proud of you, okay?”

“Okay,” Poppy replied with a softer smile, hugging you one more time as you kissed her forehead,” I love you, Mum.”

“Love you too, my darling girl,” You replied. The Hogwarts Express’s whistle sounded off a second time, which was the last warning before the train was off. You immediately moved up, letting Poppy go as one of the Head Boys from Hufflepuff saw Poppy, gesturing her to hop on the train. With one final wave to you and Oliver, Poppy walked a bit faster now with her hesitance gone, going to one of the doors that was open and looking back at you both. Other parents were waving goodbye, some were already stepping back through the brick wall with ease, and the rest were saying their final farewells as students were waving from the window of the train.

Though you and Oliver were focusing on Poppy, seeing her wave one more time and then going in through the door. Oliver hummed, taking your hand in his own and watching with his wide eyes as Poppy’s head poked out from an open window.

“BYE MUM! BYE DA! LOVE YOU!” She bellowed, you laughing as you waved. With Oliver waving too, the Train was blowing steam and bellowed one last time, the last of the doors were closing and the rest of the students were already inside. With one long lurch, the train was moving, and the massive wheels turned with ease as the train was now on its way out of the station. Your eyes were still on Poppy, seeing her keep her head out for a longer moment before she reluctantly went back inside the train.

She was off, and the train soon departed the station and was out of sight within moments.

Poppy was gone.

As the rest of the parents and patrons started to shuffle away and back through the wall, you looked over at Oliver and sighed, seeing him wipe away his tears and take in a long breath of almost exhaustion and sadness.

“The Great Oliver Wood,” you teased, Oliver wetly chuckled as you cupped his jaw in your fingers,” Your daughter will be fine at Hogwarts, remember?”

“I know,” He hummed in a hiccup,” I didn’t think this day would come but….she’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course she will,” You reassured him, “She’s a Wood, she’ll know how to handle herself. She’s learned from her Da,”

Oliver grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two were almost the last two parents still on the platform. The small comfortable silence between the pair was calming, therapeutic in a way since you two were now alone again in your household, at least for a few months when she came back for the Christmas Holiday. Oliver then perked up a bit, a small smile on his face as he spoke.

“We can always owl McGonagall and—“ he stared, but you smacked his chest and gave him a scowling look.

“Oliver Wood, you will do no such thing! Poppy is going to be fine, and I highly doubt our old Head of House and Professor will give us kudos point for our daughter,” You scolded him as you both walked over to the Brick wall, Oliver huffing and rolling his eyes.

“But now she’s the new Headmistress!” Oliver tried to argue with you.

“And as such our child will get no special treatment from McGonagall! Neville’s already looking out for her, and if Poppy finds out about the Headmistress, she’ll never forgive you, are we clear?” You warned him, seeing him sigh in defeat as he gave you a soft smile, laving your fingers together.

“Fine.” He replied, you kissing his cheek as you both walked through the brick wall.

The End.

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#oliver wood x reader #oliverwoodand poppywood #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #oliver wood #oliver wood fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #hp #hp fandom #harry potter #fanficiton #oliver wood imagine

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saltedscrawlings · 4 days ago

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hiii 💖🫶🌝

for the courtesan au:

what would jindosh make of elize in their potential encounter ? similarly and most importantly, what would elize make of this young man? 👀

"Welcome stranger, I'm Kirin Jindosh, and this is my wife Elize, and her wife Lucila."

jdwjwgjfjfjejewk just kidding

naomi!! 🥰 now is the time to tell me if you're clairvoyant. the way I was just considering making posts about courtesan!au jindosh because he is gnawing on my brain today. a familiar beast but different, as per his circumstances!

first, math! let's say he's 40 in dh2, this puts him between 23-26 in this nebulous time period surrounding the rat plague (from first whispers in 1835 to a cure in 1838) where this narrative takes place. god, what an age. idk about you, but i was not emotionally stable in my mid-twenties as a college dropout. the only thing this jindosh has been chewing on since he was 18 is the humiliation of his expulsion and every consequent humiliation since; such as having to practically beg for boiler-room work miles below his skill level because, with much closer proximity to the academy and his publicized scandal, he can't just lie about official accreditation he does not have (they'll check); such as having to live in a shitty little apartment in a tenement building with one nasty shared bathroom, maybe even with joplin as a roommate after his old professor also gets tossed from the academy; such as having to dodge the overseers and the bottle street gang who are all looking (as separate entities, they haven't teamed up) for the culprit responsible for dissecting people and jacking their organs around dunwall, when all jindosh wants to do is continue the research his expulsion interrupted 🙄

(see, my personal headcanon for og jindosh - set up in karnaca with his mansion and not-sugardaddy abele funding him, etc. - is that upon getting ✨️Expelled and Deported✨️ he did a spite-jaunt around the isles instead of immediately going home to serkonos in disgrace - accounting for the fact that there's something like 7/8 years between his expulsion and the invention of the silvergraph iirc. at the time he hated it, thought his life was over etc., but ultimately it was good for him because he was forced to basically say "well fuck the academy accreditation, fuck the seat of the empire, I'll make my mark on history without their endorsement" and mostly move on to productive pursuits even if he still harbours the hatred and resentment for years afterwards)

but to be expelled, yet not deported?? he's close to the academy, close to the empire's seat of power, and close enough to repeatedly appeal to overturn the decision that ruined his life (a lonely, quiet, genius teenager removed from the one place he probably thought would understand and accept him no matter what, unlike mum or bastard brother?? he's rattling the gates of the academy like "let me back iiiiin"). you think he's obsessive over sokolov in canon?? hooooo buddy. the veneer of sane on this young man is very, very thin. palpable feral energy right behind his dead-eyed stare. he makes people downright uncomfortable to be around him for too long

all this to say courtesan!au jindosh is a bitter, rude little boilerman bitch with a side order of serial killer who shows up at the golden cat once or twice a month to make sure everything's running smoothly with the steam room 😌 (he might also be doing maintenance on that chair he and joplin built, if his blood pressure doesn't make it impossible)

oh, elize? the whore who comes to pester him every visit by looking over his shoulder at what he's doing and asking questions? well, unlike the first few that came sniffing around, this one hasn't tried to grab his cock apropos of nothing, so she's probably not the madam's latest attempt to get him to take his payment for his work in sex rather than the coin he demands (needs), but maybe she's more clever and just biding her time. well, if she gropes him she's getting a slap and told to fuck off (like the rest), but until then it is rather nice to have a sympathetic ear listen while he rants about the old goat's metaphorical boot on his neck...and it is rather nice to glance up at her mid-explanation of some dry subject to see her absolutely fixated on what he's saying instead of tuning him out...and huh, aren't those eyes really quite something... and come to think of it, would it truly be terrible if she did try to grope him? (cue his endless cycle of "hang on, does she like me?" "fool, she's a whore, obviously not")

as for what elize thinks of him? *prolonged evil cackling* oh that's her and lu's golden ticket out of here baybeeeee. 😎 she was hoping for a chemist and a whole natural philosopher has just tumbled into her lap, talking about mechanical and electrical marvels that sound like acts of a non-existent god. who cares if he's disgraced and mildly unstable and has so much pent-up stress and rage and misery it's a shocker he hasn't just popped?? that's perfect! if she can't sway him with gratuitous oral sex then she's gonna give him sokolov on a silver platter, just so long as jindosh builds her a lethal taser and secures her passage for two on a ship to serkonos. 😈

#lu and elize and their third - the stink man 🙄#i really tackled jindosh to the ground and rubbed dirt all over him for this one #courtesan!au #oc: elize pescaro #kirin jindosh

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bromfieldhall · 4 months ago

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PYEWACKET - Chapter 1 -

(A Polin Fanfic)

Can also be read on AO3

Ch. 2, Ch. 3 & Ch. 4

Penelope is in love with Colin. Colin is in love with Penelope. Both think that their love is unrequited and don't want to act upon their feelings in case it ruins their friendship Enter, Pyewacket...

Bridgerton Modern AU

Pairing: Colin/Penelope

My submission for Polinween Week 2 - 'What's a Little Fur Between Friends'

Chapter 1 - Birthday Girl

It was on a warm, slightly humid, evening in late July that Penelope Featherington fell completely and utterly, head over heels, in love for the second time in her fairly young life.

He was a handsome boy, brimming with confidence and gorgeous green eyes that bordered on hypnotising. As soon as he’d sauntered in through the open back door of her modest, two-bedroom house, she’d known she was a goner.

She’d always loved cats.

Purring loudly, his black, glossy fur had tickled as he’d rubbed around her bare ankles before he’d jumped up and settled himself down on her old, comfy settee, like he’d lived there for years.

That had been a month ago. She’d put up notices, had him checked at the vets but with no microchip and nobody calling to claim him, he was now officially hers…or maybe she was officially his really.

Whatever way round it was, ‘Pyewacket’, as she’d named him, was here to stay.

“A pie-wotsit?” her friend, Eloise, had quipped with an incredulous laugh when Penelope had told her.

“It’s an old name for a witch’s familiar,” the redhead had explained. At Eloise’s blank look, she’d shrugged and added a little defensively, “Well, I like it.”

“It’s great, Pen, honestly,” Eloise had assured her with a grin. “I would’ve probably called him something boring like John, but Pye…”

“…wacket,” her friend had supplied helpfully when Eloise had trailed off with a frown.

“Yes, Pye, really suits him.”

Penelope had simply shook her head and smiled. She’d take that.

And now, to celebrate, she’d bought Pye a dark green collar with a little bell, a new catnip toy and a small tin of tuna. He ran over as soon as she opened the can and paced around her legs with the odd little mew as he waited impatiently for his treat. She placed his bowl on the stone tiled kitchen floor, then put the kettle on and herself a m ug of tea.

She’d just sat down with her steaming brew when her phone went off and she smiled when she saw the name that flashed up. No matter what continent he was on for work, he never forgot her birthday.

Ever.

“Hi Colin.” A loud rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ came back at her and she laughed when he held the last ‘you’ for far longer than she thought was possible. “Thank you for reminding me I’m another year older, but sadly not any wiser,” she quipped when the singing had ended.

“Oh, that sounds rather ominous,” he replied, suddenly serious. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Of course,” she said in what she hoped was a dismissive tone.

Apparently, it wasn’t…

“Penelope, I know you. What’s happened? Is it your mum? What’s she said now?” he fired off, already getting angry on her behalf.

“No, it’s not mum - or Prudence or Philippa,” she added before her friend mentioned her sisters.

“Well, it’s something,” he prodded. Colin paused, but when Penelope didn’t speak, he asked flatly, “Is it Alan?”

Penelope sighed heavily and shook her head at his continuous propensity to get her boyfriend’s name wrong.

Well, ex-boyfriend now.

“It’s Alfie, Colin and yes, if you must know we broke up last week,” she told him unhappily.

“Switch to facetime,” he demanded suddenly.

“Colin…”

“Pen, switch to facetime. I want to see you so we can talk properly,” he told her firmly.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me having a moan,” she argued without any real heat, “and I thought you said were meant to be filming some secret lagoon today or something?”

“That’s later. So, I’m exactly where I want to be. Talking to you on facetime, Pen,” he retorted.

She tutted but pulled her phone away from her ear and saw that he had already made the call. She hit accept and his face came into view.

‘Well. Happy, fricking, birthday, to me,’ she thought, drinking in the sight of him.

From his chestnut brown hair – that was slightly too long and curling up at the ends in a way that made her fingers itch to reach through the screen and just tug – to his ridiculously deep blue eyes, lightly stubbled chin and golden tan.

He looked gorgeous…and of course he was shirtless.

Her gaze dropped briefly to his chest, skittering over the liberal covering of hair there. Dear God, if he only knew what that did to her, he’d probably wear a polo neck for the rest of his life.

They were only friends, after all. Something that she constantly had to remind herself of when her mind – or gaze – wandered off to their own little fantasies. It didn’t matter that she’d been in love with him for forever.

Well, years, anyway.

And honestly, she’d long since made peace with her unrequited feelings in regards to Colin Bridgerton.

Mostly.

He’d been out of the country for a couple of months now. Said he’d had an idea for a new book and had left with barely a few days notice.

She understood. Like him, she was a writer. Romance novels that sold surprisingly well, considering the lack of any real lasting relationships in her personal life to draw upon. Still, her books had ensured her bank balance was very healthy and when the writing bug bit, she knew you had to go with it, wherever it took you.

For Colin, that just happened to be the other side of the world more often than not. New places to see, new experiences to catalogue. He thrived on the adventure and it clearly showed…if his sun-kissed beach body was anything to go by. Not an ounce of fat anywhere from what she could see…

“So,” he said, drawing her attention back to their conversation. He had a small, sympathetic smile on his face and tilted his head slightly as he continued, “do you want to tell me what happened?”

Not really.

She certainly wasn’t going to tell him that Alfie had become very suspicious of her feelings for Colin and was oddly convinced that the love of her life also felt something back.

She’d quickly brushed that notion off as ridiculous but then, with impeccable timing, several messages had suddenly pinged through on her phone from Colin. It was merely a rundown of his day with some photos of things he thought she might like to see. For her, that was normal. For Alfie, not so much it seemed…not for a long while.

In the end, listening to his reasoning, even she had to begrudgingly admit that, from the outside, it had kind of undermined her argument.

And, to top it all off, Pye hadn’t liked him. Not one little bit.

“There’s nothing to tell. It just didn’t work out and he…we decided it would be better to end it,” she finally replied with a shrug.

Colin’s eyes narrowed as he assessed the truth of her words. He didn’t quite believe her but, at the same time, she didn’t seem particularly upset, so he reluctantly decided not to push the reasons why. He was just unaccountably pleased that the idiot was gone.

“Well, having never spoken to the guy, Pen, I can safely say that he’s a fool,” he told her wryly. He was rewarded with her laugh and grinned. “So, what are your plans for your birthday? Going out somewhere nice tonight?” he asked, changing the subject.

“No, not now. Alfie was taking me out for dinner, but I’m going to get a pizza in and open a bottle of wine instead,” she replied with a smile.

“Sounds like that that’ll be a far more interesting night,” he commented with a chuckle. “Is Eloise joining you? How is she? I haven’t spoken to her recently.”

“She’s good, but I haven’t told her about Alfie and me yet because she’d already made plans with Phillip for this evening,” she explained with a sigh. “I know she’d cancel on him just because it’s my birthday and I don’t want her to. He’s a nice guy and I think she really likes him.”

“Poor chap,” he commiserated with a huff of laughter. He loved his sister but she could be…difficult at times.

“She’s not that bad,” Penelope rebuked lightly.

Colin merely raised his eyebrows at that and they both shared a laugh.

“So, since El is busy, what about one of your other friends?” he asked, bringing the conversation back around to her. “You can’t be alone on your birthday, Pen.”

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s just another day at my age and, anyway, who says I’m going to be alone? I’ll have you know I’ll be spending the evening with a very handsome fellow,” she told him rather smugly.

On the other end of the call, Colin’s hand tightened around his phone as felt his stomach drop – and then churn unpleasantly. She’d met someone else already?

“Well, that was rather quick,” he muttered to himself.

“What was that?”

Colin’s eyes widened as he realised he’d spoken louder than he’d imagined and felt heat start to warm his cheeks.

She was staring at him with an expression that told him she wasn’t quite sure that she’d heard, what she thought she’d heard.

“Oh, uh, nothing, I just said that...um…I’m sure you could have your pick,” he covered relatively smoothly and even managed to summon a charming smile.

At least, he hoped it was charming because it felt like the skin on his face was so taut it might actually tear apart if he tried to force his mouth any wider.

Penelope regarded him for a couple of seconds longer then suddenly giggled.

“I’m pretty certain he picked me.” She glanced away for a moment then looked back at him happily and added, “Hang on, he’s just finished eating. I’ll go get him and introduce you.”

What?

He was there?

All this time?

Colin’s heart stuttered along with his words. In the end all he managed to get out was an odd, strangulated sound that really had more to do with the fact that Penelope had leaned forward to prop up her phone against something on the table. It had afforded him with such an appealing view of her ample chest that he’d been rendered momentarily speechless.

Good Lord, if she knew just how much she affected him, she’d be horrified. Rightly so. Friends didn’t ogle friends – even if one the friends desperately wished they could be more.

The sound of footsteps made him focus back on the screen. She was returning with her new…whatever. Shaking himself mentally, he tried to adopt a neutral expression so that he could at least appear to seem unbothered by this unexpected turn of events.

“Here he is,” Penelope gushed as she came back into view. She sat down on the settee with a big bundle of fur in her arms and turned him so that Colin could see his face. “Meet Pyewacket, the new addition to the Featherington household.”

Oh.

A cat.

If he hadn’t already realised awhile ago that he was in love with his friend, the ridiculous amount of relief that flooded through his system in that single moment would’ve been a huge wake-up call. Even for him.

He watched as Penelope stroked him, the cats back arching under her ministrations. Pyewacket was clearly enjoying all the attention and purred loudly as she scratched lightly behind first one ear, then the other.

Colin smiled a little at the obvious tenderness on her face as she fussed her new pet. He’d be a very happy man indeed if she ever looked at him like that.

Suddenly, Pye stopped purring and stared unwaveringly into the camera, directly at Colin. He wasn’t sure if he’d made a noise or had moved slightly, but whatever the reason, he’d definitely grabbed the cat’s attention and as he stared back, he was taken with how very green his eyes were…and how they seemed to pierce straight into his soul.

It was a distinctly unnerving feeling that had him clear his throat a little in discomfort. He tried to look away but couldn’t. Something held him captive, like an invisible hold and then, one blink, and it was gone.

Pye turned away and after circling in Penelope’s lap a couple of times, he settled down, seemingly falling into an instant sleep.

“Well,” Colin began, still trying to get his head around what had just happened, “he’s a handsome devil.” He forced a grin. “Great name. Witch’s familiar. Suits him.”

Penelope beamed and he relaxed a little.

“I guess that’s my outfit sorted for the Halloween party this year then,” she commented with a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re going as a sexy witch, huh?” he teased, his grin easier now. “Good thing I’ll be back in time. I very much look forward to seeing that costume on the night.”

Her eyes widened as a delicate blush stained her cheeks and he belatedly wondered if he’d overstepped - but needn’t have worried. She was apparently more surprised about him returning.

“You’re coming? Really? But…I thought you said we wouldn’t see you until Christmas?” she exclaimed in confusion.

“I did, but I’ve actually made much better progress than I thought I would, so I should only be gone a few more weeks,” he explained, keeping it vague.

In truth, he’d only just decided to return and it was primarily because her prat of a boyfriend was no longer around.

On screen her expression softened as she smiled.

“That news is probably the best present I could’ve had for my birthday,” she said sincerely. “It’ll be good to have you home again, Colin.”

Home.

Where the heart is...and his heart, he now knew, had always been hers.

“Pen…”

Before he could say anything more, there was a loud knock on his hotel room door.

“I’ll go and let you get that,” she said, picking up her phone.

He sighed and nodded. He wasn’t really sure what he’d been about to say anyway. Although the urge to blurt out his feelings had been strong, there was no way he was going to make that kind of declaration over a bloody facetime call. Penelope deserved so much better than that.

“I’ll be in touch,” he assured her instead, “and let me know when your real present turns up. I think you might like it.”

“Present? What present?” she asked perplexed. “Colin?”

“Happy birthday, Pen.”

Grinning, he gave her a wink and a little wave, then ended the call.

“Infuriating man,” she muttered as she tossed the phone down beside her on the settee.

Pye lifted his head and mewed softly as if in agreement.

“Exactly!” she replied with a curt nod.

Absently, she started to stroke his fur, her mind running over and over the unexpected phone call. After a few moments she let out a groan of frustration and moved Pye gently off her lap so that she could stand. She refused to waste any more time torturing herself by reading anything into Colin’s meaningless flirtations. He probably didn’t even realise he was doing it at this point. They’d known each other for so long it was second nature for him.

Picking up her now lukewarm mug of tea, she took it over to the sink and tipped it away. Flicking the switch on the kettle, she leaned back against the counter and waited for it to boil to make a fresh cup.

She’d just added a dash of milk when her doorbell rang. Answering the door, the postman handed over a small parcel that needed her signature. She duly complied and walked back into the kitchen where she placed the box on the counter.

She could see it was from Colin and a dart of anticipation rose within her as she carefully opened the parcel. After putting most of the packaging to one side, she found a note and a small ornament wrapped in tissue.

She opened the note and read it quickly.

‘For your birthday, Pen. I saw this and knew it belonged with you. Love Colin x’

Intrigued, she pulled off the tissue and stared at the beautifully carved wooden figurine in amazement.

It was of a cat. Seated with its tail curled around its paws. Black, of course, with deep green, painted eyes.

She let out a delighted laugh. What were the odds? He couldn’t have known about Pye because she knew that he hadn’t been in touch with any of his siblings recently. In fact, she was the one that tended to update them as Colin often spoke to her because she was always so interested in what he was doing.

“Look, it’s you!” she declared, turning to show Pye the ornament.

He was sat on one of the breakfast stools and eyed the figure a moment before leaning forward and giving it a cursory sniff. He pulled back and looked at her then let out a little chirrup.

“I agree, it is beautiful.”

Still giggling to herself over the uncanny coincidence, she went and got her phone from where it lay on the couch and quickly typed out a thank you message to Colin. He replied almost immediately saying she was welcome and that he was looking forward to seeing her in a few weeks.

Penelope sighed and sat down. Seeing her. Not simply looking forward to coming home, but to seeing her. And so was she. Looking forward to seeing him. More than she knew she should allow herself too really. She didn’t want get her hopes up anymore.

As if sensing her sudden sombre mood, Pyewacket jumped up beside her and reached out a paw, gently touching her arm. She gave him a scratch on the head and smiled a little sadly.

“Oh, Pye, all these years and I’m still such a fool for him,” she muttered with a shake of her head. “As if this time will be any different from all the other times he’s come home, right?”

He mewed a response and she turned her head to look at him in amazement. It was the damndest thing but she could have sworn that it sounded like, ‘yes’.

She suddenly laughed at the absurdity of the notion and gave him a little pat.

“Come on, let’s find your toy and have a play,” she said, dropping a kiss on the top of his silky head.

Pye regarded her a moment as she went off, then trailed after her, tail upright, the tip twitching slightly.

Humans were a funny lot, he decided. But he liked this one and he knew the other one did too. A lot.

And come All Hallow’s Eve, Pye was determined that she would know just how much the other one did as well.

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